By Arfang Madi Sillah, Washington DC
In his seminal work A Voice Crying in the Wilderness, the iconic American author and essayist Edward Abbey poignantly remarked that the duty of a true patriot is to protect his country from its government. Embracing the spirit of Marcus Aurelius, the Roman Emperor and philosopher who valiantly defended the Roman Republic against its internal and external foes, the Gambian youths have risen en masse in a momentous demonstration of civic valor and extraordinary bravery to challenge the cavalcade of bloated political fat cats, whose only discernible preoccupations are to pillage, plunder, and prevaricate. These political elites, with bellies as inflated as their egos, have long been feasting on the nation’s resources with the enthusiasm of pigs at a trough, much like the corrupt officials depicted in the satirical tales of Russian writer Nikolai Gogol, who masterfully captured the grotesque greed of those in power.
In an uproarious display of civic duty, the youths rose against two controversial proposed legislations—the Judicial Officers Bill and the National Assembly Salaries and Pensions Bill. These bills, both designed to disproportionately enrich the legislative and judiciary branches, exemplify swollen legislative monstrosities. They would especially line the pockets of already overpaid judges while the common folk grovel in economic destitution.
The judicial branch, under the guise of “maintaining judicial independence” and “upholding the sanctity of the judiciary,” is attempting to exploit the public treasury for personal gain. By proposing exorbitant salary increases, they aim to institutionalize financial elitism within the judiciary, effectively creating an insulated class of judicial oligarchs detached from the economic realities faced by ordinary citizens. As Karl Marx argued, “The ruling ideas of each age have ever been the ideas of its ruling class.”
Simultaneously, the legislative branch is leveraging its position to secure lucrative pensions and salary hikes through the National Assembly Salaries and Pensions Bill. This maneuver is a textbook example of self-serving governance, where legislators use their lawmaking powers to entrench their financial privileges. This practice undermines the principles of public administration, which emphasize accountability, equity, and stewardship of public resources.
Thus, the popular protest staged by the younger generation goes beyond mere civic duty; it is a resounding rebuke of institutionalized gluttony and a challenge to the entrenched privilege that permeates Gambian politics. By standing against these bills, the youths are advocating for a more equitable allocation of public resources and greater accountability within both the judiciary and the legislature. They are demanding a return to the core principles of public administration: transparency, accountability, and the fair distribution of resources. In this endeavor, these youths are not mere protesters; they are modern-day Spartans, defending their republic with tweets and TikToks instead of spears and shields, confronting the status quo with memes and megaphones that ring louder than the tolling bells of justice. Their ingenuity in using modern tools for ancient ideals is nothing short of revolutionary.
Given the level of dissent and the myriad flaws inherent in these bills, it is highly probable that they will collapse under the weight of their own reckless provisions and lack of accountability. But for argument’s sake, even if these bills managed to pass, the youth would remain the unyielding bastion of justice, like a lighthouse weathering the fiercest storm, guiding the Republic through treacherous waters. Their actions resonate deeply with the democratic fervor demonstrated by the illustrious polis of Athens. This protest transcends mere political dissent, embodying a profound commitment to the philosophical tenets foundational to democratic thought since antiquity.
The ancient Athenian democracy, extensively analyzed by thinkers like Plato and Aristotle, was not simply a political regime but a holistic existential praxis—an integral way of life. In Aristotle’s seminal work Politics, he extols the virtues of active citizenship and the relentless pursuit of the common good, virtues now vividly resurrected and championed by the Gambian youth in their opposition to the bill. Their collective action harkens back to the Athenian ethos, where civic engagement was seen as both a privilege and a sacred duty, crucial for ensuring that the polis thrived on the pillars of justice and equality. Celebrating these youths as the true custodians and vigilant sentinels of Gambian democracy is crucial in an era marred by political expediency and moral laxity, where truth is often obscured. Indeed, philosophers from Aristotle to Aretha Franklin would applaud their courage. It takes exceptional bravery to confront political elites who have been indulging while the rest of society struggles for basic necessities.
On the opposite end of the spectrum stood the villains—the elite class, consisting of Justice Minister Dawda A. Jallow and the rubber-stamp national assembly members who passionately believe that political fats deserve special treatment. Like most of the know-nothing technocrats in Barrow’s cabinet, Justice Minister Dawda Jallow likely spends more time admiring his black suit and red tie in the mirror than scrutinizing the bill’s fine print. One wonders how Jallow passed the Bar exam.
And then there are the parliamentarians—the dutiful foot soldiers in this tragicomic opera. These individuals, who likely struggle to differentiate between a law book and a cookbook, nod sagely as Minister Jallow spins tales of judicial martyrdom and the perils of underpaid magistrates. Their prowess at rubber-stamping legislation is unparalleled, hinting at potential careers in modern art, albeit with ink stamps instead of brushes. Their compliance in the face of complex issues reveals a legislative process often reduced to ceremonial nods and scripted debates, where substantive discourse gives way to political expediency and bureaucratic juggling.
Beyond the inadequacies of our parliamentarians and the self-serving jurists, the Gambian president himself epitomizes the profound deficiencies of our leadership. A figure who, in the words of Shakespeare, might be described as “a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage,” he exhibits a disconcerting lack of education and intellectual curiosity. His propensity to sign any bill into law without scrutiny or challenge is emblematic of a leader more concerned with clinging to power than with the welfare of his people. In this tragic saga, the true villains are not merely individual actors but the entire governmental machinery that operates to the detriment of the working class. Rather than championing legislation that could bolster agriculture, education, and healthcare, our policymakers remain fixated on their self-aggrandizement. Their priorities are skewed towards maintaining their own comfort and status, an approach that is both myopic and morally bankrupt.
The Real Cheerleaders
Amidst this circus, enter Mai Ahmad Fatty and Melville Roberts—two figures whose moral compasses spin faster than a roulette wheel in Las Vegas. Mai Ahmad Fatty, the erstwhile Minister of Interior, whose career is a veritable handbook on the mechanics of corruption. His magnum opus? Accepting a bribe from the Belgian firm Semlex to secure a lucrative government contract for printing national documents. Allegedly, Fatty’s coffers swelled with millions of dalasis. The police, in a stellar display of inefficiency and perhaps a touch of complicity, didn’t manage to prosecute the case. Yet here he is, elbowing his way to the forefront of the Judicial Officers Bill debate, a true giant of integrity and justice for all Gambians. It brings to mindVoltaire’s words: “It is dangerous to be right in matters on which the established authorities are wrong.” This scenario exemplifies regulatory capture, where government officials are co-opted by the very entities they are supposed to regulate, undermining public trust and effective governance.
Next, we introduce Melvin Roberts, a former senior official of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, whose life’s work seems to be embroiled in controversy. Roberts faces an impressive catalog of charges—rape and sexual assault, no less. These accusations are not the product of idle gossip but are substantiated by multiple brave women who have come forward, leading to Roberts’ suspension and subsequent charges. The Ministry of Justice, after a thorough investigation, charged Roberts with these heinous crimes. Yet, despite these damning allegations, Roberts continues to pontificate on morality and ethics, as though he were some latter-day Socrates, dispensing wisdom from his ivory tower. Perhaps Shakespeare’s Macbeth said it best: “False face must hide what the false heart doth know.”
In an act that could only be described as a farce within a farce, the government of Adama Barrow, in its infinite wisdom, dropped the charges against Roberts. Like a spurned lover plotting revenge, Roberts decided to teach the Barrow administration a lesson in irony by dragging them to the ECOWAS court, demanding millions of dalasis in compensation for the government’s failure to prosecute him. Is this not the inevitable consequence of entrusting the helm to an accidental president? It’s as though the theatre of the absurd has found its perfect stage in Gambian politics, where reality mirrors the chaos of an Ionesco play.
Meanwhile, Mai Fatty, not one to be outdone, didn’t bother with legal theatrics. Instead, he was swiftly appointed as a presidential adviser, as though the government were awarding gold stars for nefarious behavior. Only in The Gambia, dear reader, could a minister charged with abuse of office and corruption be elevated to the rank of presidential adviser. AdamaBarrow, in an unintentional display of transparency, has made it clear where his sympathies lie—with the scoundrels and charlatans.
And so, we find ourselves in this most absurd of predicaments: two men with more skeletons in their closets than a Victorian mausoleum are now the self-appointed custodians of the Judicial Officers Bill. Their involvement is akin to hiring arsonists to oversee the fire brigade, a scenario that even the most jaded satirist would find beyond belief. But in this theatre of the absurd that we call Gambian politics, it seems only fitting that those who are least qualified to speak on ethics and morality are the ones who do so with the greatest fervor.
Philosophical and Ethical Flaws
The arguments presented by these defenders of the bill are fundamentally flawed on several levels. Firstly, the notion that judicial integrity and expertise are solely determined by salary is reductive and overlooks the broader motivations that drive individuals to serve in the judiciary. Across the globe, many judges are motivated by a profound sense of duty and ethical standards, rather than financial incentives. Countries like India exemplify this, where the judiciary maintains high levels of integrity despite relatively modest salaries. As Henry David Thoreau once said, “Goodness is the only investment that never fails.”
Secondly, while adequate remuneration is important for attracting and retaining talent, it is not the only factor. Professional development opportunities, a supportive work environment, and respect for the judicial role are equally crucial in maintaining high standards within the judiciary. The U.S. judiciary, for instance, emphasizes continuous legal education and ethical standards, ensuring that judges remain at the pinnacle of their profession. It is reminiscent of the wisdom of Confucius: “The superior man understands what is right; the inferior man understands what will sell.”
Thirdly, equating judges to mere salary earners rather than public servants underscores the need for the Personnel Management Office (PMO) to improve its vetting processes to ensure the appointment of qualified individuals. These processes typically involve extensive vetting of candidates’ legal knowledge, experience, and moral character, as seen in the appointment procedures of U.K. judges. This brings to mind the poignant words of Albert Einstein: “Try not to become a man of success, but rather try to become a man of value.”
Furthermore, focusing solely on salary overlooks systemic issues that need addressing to improve judicial quality, such as ensuring judicial independence, enhancing legal education, and implementing effective accountability measures. Countries like Germany and Canada emphasize these aspects, leading to high-performing judiciaries. As John Locke wisely put it, “The end of law is not to abolish or restrain, but to preserve and enlarge freedom.”
Lastly, the assumption that financial compensation directly correlates with judicial performance is misleading. Public service roles, particularly within the judiciary, attract individuals motivated by a commitment to justice and service to society, which transcends monetary considerations. The late Ruth Bader Ginsburg exemplifies this dedication, working tirelessly for justice despite personal challenges. As she herself once said, “Real change, enduring change, happens one step at a time.”
Concluding Thoughts
In conclusion, the saga of these two pieces of legislation—the Judicial Officers Remuneration Bill, the Judicial Officers Bill, and the National Assembly Salaries and Pensions Bill—highlights the broader challenges facing democratic governance in The Gambia. It underscores the perennial tension between justice and self-interest, between the ideals of democracy and the realities of governance. The younger generation of The Gambia, through their courageous actions, exemplify the principles of conscientious citizenship and civic engagement. They embody the enduring legacy of Socrates and Aristotle, who argued that the well-being of the state depends on the moral integrity and active participation of its citizens.
In contrast, the advocates for these bills—from the Justice Minister and MPs to the President and even certified criminals like Mai Ahmad Fatty and Melville Roberts—symbolize the moral decay and corruption that can arise when power is unchecked and accountability is absent. Their actions highlight the dangers of political expediency and the erosion of institutional integrity within democratic governance. Watching them scramble to defend their self-serving legislation is like witnessing a comedy of errors, with each step revealing the depths of their hypocrisy and incompetence. It’s as if they believe the populace will be placated by their rhetoric, all the while they continue to feast at the trough of public funds.
Ultimately, this saga serves as a poignant reminder of the importance of active citizenship and the necessity for robust democratic institutions to safeguard the principles of justice, equity, and responsible governance in The Gambia. The younger generation’s resistance is a clarion call for vigilance and integrity in governance, ensuring that the Republic does not succumb to the farcical theatrics of its so-called leaders.