Leaders’ tendency to disown mistakes baffling

By Kap Kirwok

I am not a sociologist or a psychologist and I think the same is true of most you.

But let us have fun pretending we are, as we reflect on the following questions: Does the recent death of Roh Moo-hyun, the former President of South Korea have anything to do with Kenya’s latest saga – the Sh10 billion ‘computer error’ in the Supplementary

Budget? Is there a common sociological thread?

Roh Moo-hyun committed suicide by jumping off a cliff near his retirement home. In a country where two former presidents (Chun Doo-hwan and Roh Tae-woo), and where all three sons of a former President (Kim Dae Jung) were imprisoned for corruption, Mr Roh Moo-hyun had worked hard to earn a reputation in office as an upright leader.

The media often referred to him as ‘Mr Clean’. As soon as he was out of office, however, his well constructed image begun to unravel amid bribery scandal involving his close aides and relatives.

In the last few weeks, as prosecutors begun homing in on bribery allegations that Roh, his wife, son, and daughter had received approximately $6 million in bribes during his presidency, the former President showed signs of extreme contrition.

"I can’t look at you in the face because of shame. I apologise for disappointing the people", he told reporters, before presenting himself for questioning by prosecutors.

On his Web site, he prostrated himself before his fans as these statements, attributed to him attest: "I no longer symbolise the values you pursue.

I am no longer qualified to speak for such things as democracy, progressiveness and justice. You should now discard me".

Less than a month after uttering those words, Roh ‘discarded’ his life.

In a note he left behind, he wrote: "I owe too much to many people. Many people suffered too much because of me."

As shocking as this may appear, this was neither surprising nor unexpected.

In Korea and most parts of the Orient, it is typical for leaders to take personal responsibility in sometimes dramatic and tragic ways.

In Kenya, we are not good at taking blame or handling shame. When Imenti Central MP Gitobu Imanyara pointed out some inconsistencies in the Supplementary Budget, Finance Minister Uhuru Kenyatta’s reaction was predictable: He dismissed the discrepancies as a figment of Imanyara’s imagination and questioned the professional integrity of the Mars Group – the corruption watchdog that

carried out the initial analysis.

Suicide incident

These two incidents – the death by suicide of a former Korean President and the knee-jerk you-are-a-fool-if you-blame-me reaction of our Finance

Minister – are a study in extreme contrasts. The common thread is shame.

One dealt with his personal shame with ultimate self-punishment – suicide; the other responded to charges of incompetence (real or contrived) by dishing out readymade insults.

It illustrates the very dissimilar ways different cultures deal with matters of blame, shame and honour.

But what is our conception of shame and honour? These two are, of course, polar opposites: One can only exist in the absence of the other.

Shame is dishonour suffered in public — although private disgrace can be just as intense. As long as they are not discovered, most people will suffer

private shame even as they pretend to enjoy public adulation and glory.

Unlike shame, honour is associated with pride and dignity. It is often earned and bestowed by wisdom, solidity of character and good works.

The actions and utterances of some public officials seem to suggest a very different conception of shame and honour. They seem to believe shame can co-exist with honour — enabled by power and wealth.

But more than this, they seem to believe that public contrition is a sign of weakness. According to them, defiance, swagger and bluster are signs of

strength. Power and wealth not only enable you to purchase honour, they actually immunise you against the stain of shame, so they believe.

But do not be fooled by all the bluster; when the chips are down,

such people are usually exposed for

who they really are: cowards in constant

fear of losing power.

In the ‘computer error’ scandal, the real heroes are Mwalimu Mati and his team at the Mars Group.

Their courageous and risky service to society

recalls a maxim by Emiliano Zapata, a Mexican revolutionary: "It is better to die on your feet than to live on your knees!"

While we don’t expect our leaders to commit suicide, we do expect them to take ultimate responsibility for

their own actions or those of the staff in their ministries.

—The writer ([email protected]) is based in the USA