Politics in Ghana, 1982-1992: Rawlings, revolution and populist democracy (review)

When Jerry John Rawlings seized power for a second time on 31 December 1981, he spelt out his terms of reference for a revolution that would transform the social and economic order. But he had his job cut out from the start. Hence the Provisional National Defence Council (PNDC) was constituted to simply get on with things. Exactly how was never made clear, and it remained strategically provisional throughout the period of the PNDC. Such was the pragmatic and provisional nature of the government that the end always justified the means, so long as it remained in power.

It is against this background that Oquaye has embarked on an exercise to judge the PNDC on the basis of what it did not quite set out to practise – democracy – even if the revolutionary maiden speech states that ‘nothing will be done … without the consent and authority of the people’. Oquaye embroils himself in what is elusive – genuine or ‘true’ democracy – and the far-fetched attempt to cast economic development as an aspect of democracy (p. 451). Oquaye later admits that the PNDC did not set out to instil democracy, and that the likes of Rawlings were pathologically averse to sharing power with the masses, or incapable of nurturing whatever constitutes democracy. Oquaye himself has difficulty in identifying the essence of democracy and thus what was applicable in Ghana. Also, his hypothesis that democracy can only be ensured by a non-military government remains unproven.

It appears that Rawlings and colleagues were interested in pragmatically pursuing whatever suited them, including the initial rejection and subsequent acceptance of IMF conditionalities; the insertion of indemnity provisions into the fourth republican constitution to grant immunity to the Rawlings regime for their foibles and atrocities prior to the 1992 elections; the rigging of the 1992 elections; and the manipulation of the investigative process relating to the murder of the three high court judges and a retired army officer. As aptly summarized by the PNDC Foreign Secretary Obed Asamoah, theirs was a ‘pragmatism with a populist content’.

Oquaye’s opinion that the class distinctions required for a socialist revolution were absent, is debatable. A classical bourgeoisie-versus-proletariat tradition might not have been apparent, but quite clearly a political elite existed alongside a growing business and managerial elite, and both these elites contributed to widening the social gap between themselves and the masses. What Oquaye’s book most certainly achieves is assiduously documenting the defence committees. It is fair to say that Chapter 4 is a definitive treatise on the subject. Oquaye objectively sets out the aims and purposes of the involvement secured from the masses, the failings and successes of their modus operandi, and the subsequent metamorphosis of defence committees into district assemblies (DAs). This became the foundation for campaigning across the country in the run-up to the 1992 elections. It also contributed to the existence of two separate streams of political authority, the DAs on the one hand and the existing district administrations on the other, culminating in the destabilization of the latter as a political and administrative jungle evolved in the run-up to the reintroduction of a multiparty system of democracy. This ensured that the PNDC power base remained sufficiently intact to provide a mechanism for the effective rigging of the 1992 elections.

In conclusion, the PNDC did not offer a coherent democratic alternative. Oquaye therefore lacks a clear locus on which to base his judgement of the PNDC, not least because the latter’s agenda was so elusive. Perhaps Oquaye, who is now a Minister in the Kufuor government, was looking for something that never existed and was never promised.