Reflections on 2009 Coup (written September 2009)

In the middle of dinner, we got word that the presidential palace was being bombed, signaling that the coup d’etat was here. We had all watched the Malagasy people’s anger at President Marc Ravalomanana grow through a series of tragically violent demonstrations that helped propelled a 34-year-old former disk jockey turned mayor into power. This would be my last night in Madagascar. It was spent with fellow American volunteers in an Indian restaurant in Antananarivo, the charming, if off-beat, capital city of the impoverished island nation I had called home for 21 months. For many of us, this was the end of an incredible journey; we had been living among Malagasy people in small villages all over the island, experiencing the fomba fiainana Malagasy (Malagasy way of life) we had all grown to love. We were leaving a place out of step with the rest of the world. And we would miss all the ways it was different: the singularity of the landscape (the enormous and other worldly Baobab trees are a prime example); the people who in the face of extreme poverty show so much joy for the simple things in life; the persistent attitude that life is not to be rushed but lived. Many times, life here seems utterly atavistic, an island not only out of step, but out of time. I remember passing a single traveler on a back country road, a man in tattered clothes, with a face emotionless yet clearly showing the utter exhaustion of a day of hard manual labor, a homemade shovel resting on his shoulder. It was as if I had walked into a lost world.

Photograph: Jerome Delay/AP

It turned out that the bombs were a rumor. Like much of the information we were getting it wasn’t the truth, but it was near enough. The military had broken through the gates of the presidential palace and fired symbolic shots into the empty building. The then president, a dairy baron and wealthy businessman, Marc Ravalomanana was not there (the “presidential palace” is an office, not a residence). He was hiding in the sprawling presidential mansion outside of the capital. The military’s act of storming the presidential palace told the world that the then mayor of Antananarivo Andry Rajoelina had the military and the country. He had put the finishing touches on the coup d’etat he had been the face of for a few short months.

The people of Madagascar, friendly and respectful of tradition, were dealt a blow that night. Their fragile democracy again failed to ensure the peacefully transfer presidential power. Ravalomanana’s presidential win in 2001 was itself the result of a fierce battle between himself (himself the then mayor of the capital Antananarivo) and the former president Didier Ratsiraka. After a long struggle that involved the formation of rival governments in different cities, Ravalomanana took power and Ratsiraka left the country and was later exiled.

Teaching English in the countryside for nearly two years as a volunteer, my day-to-day life was not typically troubled by politics. However, when demonstrations against the president began to ramp up in January of 2009, it was all my friends and co-workers could discuss. I heard firsthand their political hopes and fears. They were hopeful when Ravalomanana became president in 2001. He was seen as a reformer by not just themselves but much of the international community. He was someone who would help them finally break free from the shackles of colonialism and allow Madagascar to fully integrate into the global marketplace. My friends and co-workers, along with their fellow Malagasy, waited. Not much improved in their daily lives. Years passed. And then they grew suspicious and angry at the rumors that Ravalomanana was embezzling federal money; that he had leased their homeland to a Korean corporation; and that he had bought a lavish presidential airplane--complete with a gym--for an absurd sum of money at a time when most Malagasy were starving. They were also suspicious that he would rewrite the constitution to lengthen the term limits on the presidency, a justified fear given the fragile nature of the constitution (former president Ratsiraka rewrote the constitution to just this end). All it took to set off their growing anger was another authority figure to rally behind. Enter Andry Rajoelina, a man who went from high school dropout to successful disk jockey and media magnate, to mayor of the capital and quickly to de facto leader of Madagascar. Here was a man who lived up to his nickname. Rajoelina is commonly referred to as “TGV” or “Andry TGV,” a reference to the high-speed French train.

The faith that TGV’s followers have entrusted to him has not paid dividends. A series of unsuccessful power sharing talks between Ravalomanana and TGV have gone nowhere. TGV’s rule has not be recognized by the international community; one result of which is a freeze on the foreign aid on which Madagascar is so dependent. Now, other former leaders are entering the fray. Looming most ominously is Didier Ratsiraka, the once exiled former president. He has been granted not only a hand in determining the future of Madagascar, but a free pass to return home to a country from which he allegedly stole millions of dollars. The people of Madagascar have a proverb (involving a delightful reference to a cricket) that means Even the tiniest things are shared. Obviously, the key players in the power sharing talks are no longer interested in such proverbial wisdom. None of them seem interested in sharing the fate of this country with its own people. Madagascar needs a government democratically mature and robust enough to check the power of its leaders. This way democracy can grow. When ideas like transparency and governmental checks and balances become reality, then leaders will see that they are bound to the will of the people. However, it seems that a fundamental step to making these ideals a reality is a leader who can put the interests of the people above his or her own. Today there doesn’t seem to be anyone to fill that role. Madagascar represents a familiar African struggle: how to quickly create large-scale democratic institutions in countries where such institutions have not existed. The struggle is not an easy one to watch, as in the case of Madagascar. An already parched people are being driven even further from the springs of true democracy.

It’s part of Malagasy culture to accept your lot in life. One hopes that the Malagasy do not accept their recent history of poor leadership as their fate. True, the country seems trapped and unable to progress, out of step and out of time. Tragedies repeat themselves.  Protestors were--on Ravalomanana’s order--shot outside of the presidential palace during the demonstrations that lead to the recent coup d’etat in a fashion eerily reminiscent of the 1991 demonstrations against Ratsiraka, where protestors were also killed by gunfire authorized by the president. One wonders what Rajoelina will do when protestors show up at his door.

Ny hevitra tsy azo tsy amin’olombelona

The proverb says that knowledge is not attained without others. This is certainly true, and it is good to be reminded. A paper that I co-authored with two colleagues, Graziella Masindrazana and Zoly Rakotoneira, is now out in print in the South African Journal of Philosophy. You can find it here.

https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/02580136.2018.1514244

The paper discusses some early philosophical ideas of Siméon Rajaona, perhaps Madagascar’s most famous intellectual. The paper would have been impossible as a singular effort and each of us made it better than it would have been otherwise. So much of my research from my Fulbright depends on others, not just the past thinkers who addressed these questions and my colleagues at the University of Antananarivo who continue to address them, but also all my Malagasy friends who have teaching me about all things Malagasy since I set foot on the island in June of 2007. It would be impossible to list everyone, but so much of my time in Madagascar in Peace Corps and the Fulbright was spent learning. The lessons weren’t always in the classroom. Conversations with street vendors, taxi drivers (especially my old driver and friend, Davidson), and people I met out and about taught me more than those people realize. Without these people, my knowledge of Malagasy culture wouldn’t be the same.

If the paper says anything insightful, it is because of the lucid and bold ideas of Rajaona that we build on. It is said that much of our new knowledge and discovery results from standing on the shoulders of giants. True enough, but in my own case, I think it was not merely giants such as Rajaona that made my research possible. It has been so many others as well. It has been Malagasy people who saw a foreigner trying to understand their culture, their language, and decided to share one of the things they hold most dear. It reminds me of another proverb: Tsy ny varotra no taloha fa ny fihavanana (It was not commerce that was first but friendship). There is nothing more foundational than fihavanana (friendship based on love and mutual affection). To have been taught is a gift. To have been taught by someone whose heart is open and receptive to friendship is an even greater gift.

Your Help is Needed

One thing that I will always remember about my Malagasy students is their passion for education. So many times in the classroom, it was palpable. Experiencing this passion first hand was all the more inspiring to me given the great efforts that students often make to go to school. Sometimes, they must walk great distances to get to school in the countryside. Many children have chores that keep them busy for large portions of the day—fetching water, for example, in rural settings is difficult, grueling, and unending work. Electricity and resources are extremely limited or non-existent, making the students’ work in and outside of class much more challenging than their peers in richer countries could imagine. Despite these material hardships, Malagasy students show up at school ready and eager to learn. Their fire to learn is not diminished.

A university student of mine, Lalatiana Rahariniaina, knows about this passion as well as anyone. She is fundraising for a project to help send students to school in a rural village, Amberomena, near Moramanga. The students there, as in so many places in rural Madagascar, often lack the basic funds they need for school supplies and fees. She is raising money for students in this village so that their passion for education will not be wasted, so that their rights to a basic education will be respected. Please consider donating to this worthy cause. Your money will go a long way. As Lalatiana notes,

““Ny erikerika mahatondra-drano”, a Malagasy proverb which means ‘a little rain everyday will make the river flood’. Indeed, there is no small contribution, each of your effort counts and makes a big difference. With $1, you offer a child a copy book and 3 pens. With $5, you buy a school bag. With $10, you support his/her school fees of a year. With $35, you give the chance to a child to attend school for one year by paying for his/her school fees and supplies.”  

Please check out her fundraising page and consider a donation that will not only keep children in school but also keep hope for a better future alive, for them and for Madagascar: https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/help-send-kids-of-amberomena-to-school#/

The Philosophy of Malagasy Culture

A nice write-up about my Fulbright in one of CCU's publications. 

Tena isaorana be dia be ianareo rehetra

Shortly after we returned to Myrtle Beach from Madagascar, I jumped right back into my teaching at Coastal Carolina University. Since returning, I have been thinking about my Fulbright experience a great deal. One thing that stands out is that there are so many people who made it possible and to whom I owe a debt of gratitude. I owe my wife, Emily, special thanks for the countless sacrifices she made to make it all possible. There is nothing I have done or nothing that I could do in my life to be worthy of such support. I have been incredibly blessed to have it and been incredible blessed to have her in my life for nearly 20 years. My children left the life they were familiar with in Myrtle Beach to live in Madagascar for 9 months. That takes courage. My co-workers at the University of Antananarivo, especially Zoly Rakotoniera, helped me in so many ways. Their kindness, patience, and wisdom was a true gift. Many US Embassy staff helped me, both Americans and Malagasy, and I am grateful to them, especially Denise Jobin Welch. My colleagues at Coastal Carolina helped me get everything set up so that I could be on academic leave for 9 months. All of my friends in Madagascar, including great friends who work for the Peace Corps, helped in so many ways. Many of the Malagasy friends who I met in Nashville after the Peace Corps have since moved back to Madagascar after finishing their studies at Lipscomb University. It was great to see my old friends, and they each helped me in my journey. My Malagasy friends continue to amaze me with their intelligence and kindness and with their devotion to Madagascar and its future. My students kept me energized and taught me a great deal. I am thankful for meeting them and for our relationship. 

Before doing the Fulbright it all seemed like an impossible dream. Now looking back it seems the same. I couldn't have done it without my family, my friends, my students, and my Malagasy and American colleagues. Tena isaorana be dia be ianareo rehetra. I express some of my thanks in Malagasy in a video below. There is also another video where I talk about my experience in English. 

Izy roa lahy

I was lucky to meet Arianala Ratiarivelo, a researcher on Malagasy philosophy, during my Fulbright. He is retired but still very active in his research. He taught philosophy at the University of Antananarivo, among other places. He has written books, in English and Malagasy, on Malagasy philosophy. It was thanks to the head of the Philosophy Department at the university, Josette Rapiera, that we came into contact. We have been talking about a project of comparing Malagasy Ethics to Western Ethics. He came to about four meetings of the Philosophy Club that I was running to talk to students about just this topic. We met outside of this as well. He is a wealth of information and all of our discussions have been very productive. We usually communicate in a mixture of English and Malagasy. People sometimes call this vary amin’ ananana which is the national breakfast. It’s basically a soupy rice dish with greens that is often served with smoked meat. Two languages get mixed just as the rice and greens do in vary amin' ananana. 

Professor Arianala Ratiarivelo and myself

Our first project will provide a philosophical analysis of the famous concept FIHAVANANA and explain the role that it plays in the Malagasy ethical tradition. (Professor Ratiarivelo has already done a good deal of work on this, but we want to say more about it and also contrast it more with the Western tradition.) 'Fihavanana' is a word that many people say defies translation. The root is 'havana' which means relatives or kin. Since 'fihavanana' is a substantive it often is translated as kinship, but this fails to really flesh out the full meaning. It’s a sense of belongingness or love that people feel for each other that is perhaps modeled on the immediate family but extends to others in society as well. It's a sense of belonging that motivates people to help others and treat others well. It’s a force for good in the world, and it is the most central ethical concept in the system of Malagasy Ethics. Our first project focuses on just on fihavanana and not the other aspects of the sytem. We also explain how Malagasy Ethics differs from some main themes and approaches in Western Ethics. We also discuss what makes Malagasy ethics distinctive. We talk about the status of fihavanana today (efa manomboka mivaha). And we offer some lessons to be learned from comparing the two approaches to ethics.

We plan to look to proverbs to explicate the concept. Here are just a handful. For reasons owing to the difficulty of translating the term 'fihavanana' we leave it in Malagasy in our literal translations and interpretations. 

Aleo very tsikalakalan-karena , toy izay very tsikalakalam-pihavanana.
Literal meaning: It’s better to lose the basis of wealth than the basis of fihavanana.
Interpretation: Fihavanana is harder to restore than wealth.

Tsy ny varotra no taloha, fa ny fihavanana.
Literal meaning: Selling was not first, it was fihavanana.
Interpretation: Fihavanana is more important than selling or commerce.

Ny fihavanana ohatra ny famoriana tain'omby: ka izay mahavezivazy no mahafeno harona aloha.
Literal meaning: Fihavanana is like collecting cow feces: those who move around the most fill their baskets first.
Interpretation: Fihavanana can grow with work and effort.

Ny vola tsy lany hamamiana fa ny fihavanana mahavonjy amin'ny sarotra.
Literal meaning: Money is sweet but it is fihavana that saves you from trouble.
Interpretation: Fihavana is stronger than money when it comes to getting oneself out of trouble.

In just these few proverbs, one can see the stress placed on fihavanana by Malagasy. Looking at the proverbs will paint a more complete picture of the traditional conception--though we talk about its existence today as well. As I said, one focus of the project is to explain the contrast between Malagasy Ethics and some Western ethical systems. In the end, we want to say that the principles of Malagasy ethics are rooted in everyday life and the impetus for action is rooted firmly in the heart, whereas in some system in the West the principles are incredibly abstract (take Kant’s system for example) and also motivated not by the heart but by reason and the mind. There’s a lot of the details to work out but we’ll keep working on it, as we have been over the past few months.  I am excited about explaining Malagasy Ethics to a Western audience and showing the lessons that might be learned from it.

Puzzling Proverbs

Graziella Masindrazana and I did a presentation this past Wednesday on our project about puzzling Malagasy proverbs. Proverbs are called ohabolana. I have known of them for a long time, but didn't start seriously studying them until this Fulbright. Professor Masindrazana first got me interested in the topic of puzzling proverbs in November when I met her after we first arrived. Here is a clear example of a puzzling proverb. 

Ny tody tsy misy fa ny atao no miverina.

'Tody' is a word that means to return in kind or recompense. It also has the meaning of to arrive. So, the idea is that what you have done will come back to you, will arrive, that is, in your life at some later point in the future. 'Tsy misy' means there isn't any. So, the first part means, there is no recompense for what you do. The second part says, what is done returns. So, the proverb expresses a straightforward contradiction. Many Malagasy will hear it and understand the deep meaning, which is that one should be careful about what one does because there is always a chance that it will come back to one, but to an outsider such proverbs are very puzzling. They are also likely puzzling to a native speaker who slows down and tries to analyze them at a deeper level.  There are other proverbs like this one. We set out in our research to try to understand these proverbs and explain their origin and philosophical significance. For help we draw on some work of a former Fulbright Scholar, Lee Haring. He has an excellent chapter on ohabolana in his book Verbal Arts in Madagascar. He demonstrates in this book that Malagasy proverbs are essentially dialogic, that is, they involve a kind of call and response. They are like mini-dialogues. In the proverb mentioned earlier, it's as if one person says, "You know that there is no such thing as recompense for what you do," and then other person responds, "But what you do can come back to you." In the various forms that Malagasy proverbs take, you see this call-and-response form. This dialogic structure is a big piece of the explanation for their origin. The recipe for any paradox is two ideas that do not cohere with each other. So, if Malagasy proverbs tend to generate two ideas then we are more likely to see paradoxical proverbs when compared with proverbs in other traditions. It's also a basic fact of human psychology that people are more likely to remember things that are unique or different. So, it is because of these two things, we conjecture, that you see more paradoxical proverbs in Malagasy. Last we try to discuss there philosophical significance. This is related to the question: Why do ohabolana have a dialogical structure? In our view, it is likely due to some of the material realities the shaped the lives of the original Malagasy. They were rice farmers, at least in many places of the island, and this created a communal culture as farmers had to depend on others for proper irrigation. The food production was more collective and thus collectivism took hold in the worldview and also by extension in the patterns of speech. So, this is one of the philosophical lessons that we glean: proverbs are a window into a basic fact about the Malagasy worldview. Westerners are more direct and individualistic in stating their opinions whereas Malagasy are more comfortable forming their opinions with the help of others, that is, forming them collectively, reaching consensus (mamaritra iraisana). Here there is greater sensitivity to the perceptions of the group and more focus on the connection between others. These various aspects of the worldview are revealed, though not exclusively, through puzzing proverbs. 

Graziella Masindrazana and me

There is still more work to be done on this particular project, but we have made some great progress and it wouldn't have been possible without the insight and wisdom of Professor Masindrazana. I was lucky to have met her and learn from her, and I tried to make the most of it. As it is said, "Valala tsy indroa mandry am-bavahady." The locust doesn't sleep twice at the gate, or, in other words, if opprotunity knocks, you should answer. A big thanks to Professor Masindrazana for all the help and sharing all her seemingly limitless wisdom about the Malagasy language and, especially, Malagasy proverbs and worldview. 

The presenters from the half-day of research event for Anglophone Studies