In his famous work Brothers Karamozov, Fyodor Dostoyevsky divulges the three forces capable of holding “weak rebels” captive for their own happiness.
Miracle, mystery and authority, he says, are very much capable of leading grown-up men and women, like sheep. The first two, miracle and mystery, befuddle the mind. In our inability to have an objective, rational appreciation of them, we easily surrender to them.
For thousands of years, religions and religious leaders have traded in their currency. It is difficult, however, to comprehend why the last of them – authority – fires up humans.
This is partly because it is possible to obtain an objective, rational appreciation of the very concept of authority as well as the practical expression, power.
Yet the most sophisticated, high society man easily thaws in presence of authority, particularly political authority. They mock, belittle and wish away political authority, but mellow, coil and fall into line, in its presence.
More often than not, after they have had a good run in their “respectable” vocations they polish their grayheads to retreat to politics.
From the prestige of their empanelled boardrooms and exquisite business suits, they start wearing colourful shirts, comical hats, flashy chains and using long words.
Their opposite in the food chain – the unsophisticated, weaklings of society – have no shame in their dealings with political authority. They bash it in media voxpops and common talk, but rush to embrace it whenever it comes close to them.
Thespian Lolani Kalu once got them in his hooks. In one of his many interesting TV shows, Kalu visited an Eastlands ‘base’ where area hoodlums as well as upright, good men were communing, passing time.
At the time, Mike Mbuvi Sonko was reeling in his political shenanigans. Kalu got them on tape bashing him over his clad, talk and looks. “What kind of leader be that?” “Who does that?” “Where did he come from?” they wondered.
And then Sonko swaggered into their den, sagging under the weight of his gold chains, jeans and diamond-laden watches.
They surged towards him, heaping all manner of praises, and saying there was no other like him! I have never understood to this date if Kalu set them up to expose their hypocrisy, or whether Sonko simply stumbled on to them.
Both sets of society – the sophisticated and unsophisticated – are therefore united in their reverence and unbridled desire for authority and its sidekick, power.
This is why it was utterly imprudent, and hopeless for that matter, for the clergy in Kirinyaga to deny politicians the chance to speak in a burial ceremony.
The people wouldn’t allow it. The clergymen forgot they trade in the same currency as politicians: miracle, mystery and authority. They also forgot that unlike their promise of heavenly bread, which is far removed from realities of daily life, politicians dish out the irresistible, immediate and more relatable earthly bread.
Finally, they forgot that they had far too much indulged in politicians’ largesse to afford the moral authority to stop them.
The turn of events in Kirinyaga demonstrate how beholden we are to political authority and power. Our eyes gleam when we see our local politician. Our ears prick up, eager to hear them. And we run our mouths against those who slight them.
The tendency to begrudge the effect political authority and power have on us is common but quite misplaced.
So is the cynicism of our political class in the face of the critical space they occupy in our lives as ultimate distributors of resources and values of a society.
Our parliament, right from independence, has comprised the beautiful mosaic of our republic, complete with its contradictions. The practice of politics is a great good in a society, and our politicians are indeed a special, privileged lot.
We should allow them to grace and speak in our birthdays, our worship places, and ultimately our burials.
The writer is a Senior Project Manager with the Friedrich Naumann Foundation. (The opinions expressed here are his own and do not necessarily represent the position of FNF)
