There were calls for Mweta but he gave no sign that he would speak. Bray, putting himself in his place, wondered why he left it to Shunungwa and his other lieutenants to argue the case. — You don’t want to be in at the kill? — He wouldn’t hear the question from me, now, even if I could be there right next to him, asking it for his ear alone; wouldn’t hear. And he was far away on the other side of this sounding — place vibrating as if they were all within a vast bell with the ringing of speakers’ voices and the numberless thought — waves spreading, overlapping, looping among echoes: a single intention towards him drowned out before it got there; he became, to Bray, as Bray tried to hold him in sight, in mind, something that stood for Mweta — the familiar face, the robe. Justin Chekwe, Secretary — General of PIP as well as Minister of Justice, had apparently been chosen as big gun against the motion. He was an eloquent speaker (ex-Oxford Union, as a cocky black scholarship student) and while he didn’t descend to emotional appeal, the very sight and sound of him, enhanced by the power of his portfolio since Independence in the way a woman is made more sexually attractive by her private knowledge that she is conducting a love affair, drew confidence. Every villager in his scraped — together best could see what — if it were too late for oneself — a son could become. There was no austerity in Chekwe’s manner; he wore the white man’s expensive clothes as he used the most expensive words, words that came only at the price of the most expensive education. And in this he remained African in a way that was recognized instantly without any need of explanation, such as was necessary to reassert a pride in things reinstated from Africa’s own neglected scale of values. What he was saying, of course, was aimed directly at Shinza; it was based, for tactical reasons, on a deliberate misinterpretation of motives. Was Congress being urged to approve the adoption by African movements of a purely professional trade unionism? Supporters of this attitude refused to allow trade union participation in any form of governmental activity. The late Tom Mboya once argued the case for this and, indeed, in theory, it was admirable … “for countries whose economies are sufficiently highly developed to afford it — though if we look at some of them, England, for example”—he allowed himself a sympathetic smile at the Labour government’s troubles— “we wonder if anyone can afford it.” … But even the most ardent supporters of this theory had come to realize through experience in Africa that the trade union movement could not concern itself solely with the defence of the workers’ immediate interests, and “let the country go hang.” Even the most ardent advocates of so — called “corporate” trade unionism today realized that the only way to further the interests of the workers was to assist the government in every way to achieve its economic goals. It was absolutely necessary for the trade union attitude to take into account long — term economic planning and ensure that this was carried out “with the closest possible trust and cooperation between the government and the unions. The President’s appointment of the Secretary — General of UTUC is the most important recognition of this cooperation. It is the government’s guarantee that this cooperation will take place on the highest level and will never be endangered by such petty internal dissensions as might arise from time to time within trade union movements themselves….”
The arguments were being taken down at the press table, recorded on tape, but rising and falling decibels would not capture what was really happening. Beneath this graph was another, the shift back and forth of a balance between Shinza and Mweta. And beneath that, yet another: and of the nature of that, even Bray wasn’t sure. All this afternoon’s clamour and talk would become part of a small curve in the rise and fall of forces over the whole continent, would be swept up in the historian’s half — sentence some day— “towards the end of the decade, there could be discerned a certain paradigm of alignment into which apparently dissimilar states….” It isn’t signifying nothing, this clamour, that’s too easy, too. Its significance is something to be listened for, reached by parting a way through words, presences, the cramp in one’s knees, and the compulsive distraction of lighting another and another cigarette.
Still Mweta made no sign. He could have spoken if he wanted, even if it had been agreed that he wouldn’t. He had done it before; it was part of his impulsive naturalness, the political sense he had had that went beyond the stale concept of politics as a “game” in which all moves must be plotted and adhered to. Politics had always been concrete to him, a matter of bread, work, and shelter. He sat there in his robe; a piece of popular political art, Bray thought — just as there is popular religious art, plaster figures painted blue and gold.
The other faction had their plan of action, as well. Shinza was to have their last word. When he stood up he waited for silence and got it; but then those who had given it as a due exacted found that he was looking round as if he wanted to remember them all, everything; he lingered on the thugs and the policemen, awkward presences that had no dealing with words, in a gathering whose meaning depended on the binding validity of the word or was nothing — he looked at them with the beginnings of a dry, playfully pitying smile, the smile men give jailers. And then he began to speak. “In our country, as in most other African states, before independence nationalism was given priority in trade union activities because the economic and social situation of the African worker was a direct consequence of colonialism. Now that independence is gained, economic and social problems come to the fore again — look at them all around us in the strikes and riots on the mines, the fisheries, the railways. The African trade union movement has to reformulate its policies to deal with these problems. Now let us be clear about one thing. This reformulation can only take place within a framework limited by the legacy of the colonial system, the trade unions’ role in the political growth of the State, and the size of the social and economic problems which face us. — That is what the Yema resolution is about; that is what the Honourable Minister Mr. Chekwe is talking about; that is what I’m talking about.” All the mannerisms that his eager pupil (robed, shoulders back like a bust on a coin) had learned from him; but, in Shinza himself, without that concession known as charm: done with that. “The label of professional trade unionism, corporatism, won’t stick on UTUC. Not even the ‘enlightened’ professional trade unionism that Mr. Chekwe is prepared to flatter it with … Because what he is saying in effect is that trade unions can support any government whose policy favours the workers, no matter what that government’s over — all policy is. Well, we know where this reasoning can lead. In Europe it led to Mussolini, it led to Hitler — it led to fascism. Africa is making enough mistakes of her own; one of the last hopes of the world and ourselves is that at least she will not have to repeat all Europe’s. In Africa, Mr. Chekwe quotes the example of Mboya. Yes, the late Tom Mboya did follow ‘enlightened’ corporatism as a union man and later as Minister of Economic Planning and Development, and we respect his memory as one of the great men of our continent; but there are people who say he used this argument to justify his blind attachment to the Western bloc, abandoning the principles of positive neutralism to which the People’s Independence Party and our country are committed; and at the time of his death foreign business interests were flourishing while the Kenyan people remained poor.… No, the label of professional trade unionism, of an evasion of the realistic and proper role of the unions in a developing state, won’t stick on UTUC because what UTUC has stood for since the days when our Party grew out of the trade unions is the fullest participation of the worker in the formulation of the policies of the state. In 1959 when I came out of jail I hardly had time to look for a clean shirt”—splendidly casual reminder that he had been in and out of prison for PIP— “before UTUC sent me off to Conakry to the UGTAN conference — one of the first important attempts to create pan — African trade unionism — with a mandate to support trade union involvement in political action as the only way to achieve social and economic progress. During the years, later, when PIP was banned and for a time UTUC acted as our front organization, the trade unions reaffirmed this conviction in actions”—perhaps he said “louder than words”—his own were beaten out by a swell of aggressive applause somewhere— “The trade unions saw then that the workers’ greatest need was the country’s need to struggle against colonialism and imperialism. The reason why now their Secretary — General should not be appointed over their heads is not because they think their role after independence is to be less involved at government level, but on the contrary, because it is to be more involved, because the workers’ greatest need now is to ensure that the government continues the struggle against neo — colonialism and all that it means to the workers. This thing neo — colonialism is not, as some people would like to tell us, a catch — phrase, an honest investor from Europe or America or wherever, dressed up by the Communists in sheets and an evil spirit’s face. It is with us now in the form of ‘disinterested’ help given by the great powers; in the domination of our national resources by international companies; and in the perpetuation of our economic inferiority as the eternal producers of raw materials at low prices and customers for the finished product at high prices.”