The State of Public-Sector Ethics in Malawi: A Pass-Fail Question?
Richard K. Ghere

University of Dayton

Abstract. This paper explores the relationship between political regimes and the institution of the civil service in Malawi, a particularly impoverished, landlocked nation in Sub-Saharan Africa. It relies upon this Malawian context to compare the public integrity discourse (as characterized in the current public ethics literature) with the discourse of an emerging political economy literature articulating the views that (a) political regimes (whether self-serving or public-regarding) shape political institutions and (b) those institutions determine the (in)ability to control politicians. In particular, Acemoglu and Robinson elaborate on these political economy ideas in their provocative book Why Nations Fail (2012). The study herein can neither support nor reject assertions that the nation of Malawi has “passed” or “failed” within the parameters of Acemoglu and Robinson’s arguments. Nonetheless, it does suggest that public economy discourse can add value to the study of public ethics by directing attention to the political realities confronting reform-minded national leaders.

Why do nations “fail?” Economists DaronAcemoglu and James Robinson pose this question in terms of a nation’s capacity to sustain development. Specifically, their book Why Nations Fail articulates a response asserting that “failing nations” depend upon extractive political and economic institutions that siphon off resources to perpetuate the wealth and interests of (neo1)patrimonial rulers (2012). Further, they argue that institutions that risk the destruction and subsequent (re)creation of wealth are, in a Schumpeterian2 sense, inclusive in their ability to extend access to resources and thus sustain development. Critical junctures in the sequence of societal events, according to their argument, emerge whereby extractive institutions may become inclusive or inclusive ones extractive; such junctures trigger either positive- (toward inclusiveness) or negative-feedback loops (extraction).

Acemoglu and Robinson’s arguments should pique the interest of publicethics researchers, students, and practitioners for at least three reasons. First, the notion of patrimonial regimes engaged in self-aggrandizement and calculation strikes at the heart of integrity norms in the public ethics discourse. Second, the impact of those public sector norms and motivations reverberates globally, particularly in the conditions that international development institutions place on aid and the criteria they use to evaluate development progress. But (most provocatively) third, their thesis—like those of some other economists3—rests on the presumption that rulersprimarilyshape institutions. That contention in large part challenges much implicit causality4 within public ethics discourse, particularly as it relates to good governance and development—e.g., global norms affect domestic national objectives by offering “new opportunity structures” (O’Toole and Hanf 2002, 160); shared global norms in support of government ethics override cultural peculiarities (Gilman and Lewis 1996, 517); norms for public integrity can be contextualized into governmental practice (Yoder and Cooper 2013, 295); and anti-corruption environments enable civil society and the media to demand higher levels of accountability (African Union 2003, 14).

This paper focuses on the third issue, one that embodies (what is called here as) political economy discourse that (at least to some extent) calls the public integrity (or ethics) conversation intoquestion as it applies to international development settings. For context, this inquiry relies upon the nature of relationships between political regimes and the institution of the civil service in Malawi, a particularly impoverished5, landlocked nation in Sub-Saharan Africa. As for the current state of publicsector ethics in Malawi, assessments vary significantly. On one hand, credible surveys commissioned by Malawi’s Anti-Corruption Bureau indicate that public ethics is improving at an impressive rate. Specifically, the differences in the findings of the Governance and Corruptionsurveys in 2006 and 2010 show that householder, business, and public official respondents all perceived corruption in the public sphere6 (measured by several questions) as less serious in 2010 that in 2006 (Chinsinga, Kayuni, and Konyani 2006; 2010). But on the other, Malawi’s current president Joyce Banda wages a continuing campaign against governmental corruption and makes public statements that declare her intentions—such as:

Let me make this very clear, here and now, that this President, standing before you, is determined to get to the bottom of corruption in this country. There will be no sacred cows; no protected species and no special ones. As for the [Anti-Corruption] bureau and the Auditor General, I want you to join me on this crusade to rid mother Malawi of this evil. (Muheya 2013)

Her concern is corroborated by routine accounts of alleged governmental improprieties and ethical lapses appearing in the popular press7.

Short of determining which of the two (political economy or public integrity) discourses appears more viable, the intention here is to examine whether and/or how these two perspectives inter-relate in reference to political regimes and the civil service throughout Malawi’s (previously Nyasaland’s) colonial and post-independence experiences. Considering the possibilities, there is first a plausible case (at least on the surface) of divergence—that the “pure and simple” assertion that regimes shape institutions dismisses the public integrity reasoning that the diffusion of ethical/democratic norms leads to the adoption of “good governance” practices as requisites of development. Indeed, the divergence case could also hold that political regimes manipulate “the paraphernalia of democracy” (e.g., government ethics reform) to perpetuate their extractive interests, particularly to keep development aid flowing (Englund 2001; 2002). Alternatively, the two discourses could converge, either as reverse sides of the same (pertinent) coin or in their shared inaccuracy or irrelevance regarding regime behaviors in development contexts. Regarding the first, possibly regimes learn that “ethics and good governance” can advance their pursuits; in the latter, perhaps both conversations reflect a “culturalist” fallacy that projects Western values on a context “with complete disregard for its historical conditions.” (Englund 2002, 20) A third possibility looms in the form of a dialectic—either that the two discourse serve to create a tension that forces unexpected outcomes or that they are both affected by some unrecognized or under-scrutinized tension operating beneath the surface of these conversations.

The section to follow offers brief glimpses of five political regimes in Malawi (or the Nyasaland Protectorate) from 1890 to the present and their respective actions that haveaffectedthe civil service. A subsequent section examines if and how the public integrity and political economy discourses inter-relate (within the range of possibilities outlined above) in view of the Malawi case.

Malawi’s Political Regimes and ItsCivil Service

The following characterizations of successive political regimes and their effects on Malawi’s civil service offer contexts for discerning (in)compatibilities between the public integrity and political economy discourses introduced above. Of particular concern is whether and how these summaries reflect (1) the authority of ethics and good-governance norms that affect either regime or institutional behaviors (2) regime roles that lead institutions toward extractive or inclusive tendencies.

The Nyasaland Protectorate (1890-1950s) and the Africanization of the Administrative Service (1953-1964)

In his account of “the genesis of the Nyasaland civil service,” administrative historian Colin Baker relates how in 1890 Harry Johnston, then Consul to Mozambique, crafted an agreement between the British Foreign Office and Cecil Rhodes’ chartered British South Africa (BSA) Company whereby (1) the Foreign Office would declare a protectorate over the Nyasa lands8, (2) Rhodes’ BSA Company would be granted an extended “sphere of influence” in the South African territories, and (3) the BAS Company would willingly subsidize support of a civil service to be overseen by Johnston as first commissioner and consul-general of the new protectorate (1988, 34-35). In relatively short order, Johnston assembled a staff of 168 officers, most of whom were (affordable) generalists, each waswhite—constituting ofan “expatriate monopoly of administrative posts.”9 (Baker 1972,541)

Generally, the scope and coherence of the Protectorate’s policy commitments, particularly as they shaped development and affected the civil service, appear impressive. It is especially revealing that during the Depression years the colonial government did not flinch from its long-term policy commitments to infrastructure improvement, particularly aimed toward extending the railway system to support an agricultural export economy and social development through sanitary and water initiatives (Baker 1974). Passage of the Colonial Development Act in 1929 provided for Colonial Development Funds—augmented by Carnegie Corporation assistance—for investments in infrastructure, agricultural improvement and social development programs.Baker reports that at least in part, this act was intended to relieve unemployment in Britain (17). In regard to socialdevelopment, he reports on a 1935 initiative to “train community workers to help Native Authorities in their social and community work. Instruction in hygiene, sanitation, agriculture, soil conservation, forestry and animal husbandry was given by the enlarged residential staff and by departmental officers.”(1974, 21).In addition, Baker goes to great lengths to illustrate the Protectorate’s commitment to maintaining, and in some cases expanding, its civil service rather than to retrench it during the Depression era. The funding curtailments that did occur during these years were limited to travel, and even here were made on a case-by-case basis (relating to development implications) rather than across-the-board (14-16).

Anumber of events and processes converged within an eleven-year period leading up to Malawian independence in 1964 that prompted initiatives to “Africanize” the civil service.Specifically, Britain’s decision to include the protectorate in the Central African Federation (with the current nations of Zambia and Zimbabwe) in 1953 led to political discontent in reaction to accompanying “law and order” measures that justified a declaration of emergency (and curtailed rights) in 1959 (Baker 1972, 543). One year earlier, Hastings Kamuzu Banda (discussed below as Malawi’s first president) returned from an extended period of study and work in Great Britain as a vocal advocate of national independence. His role as leader of the newly-created Malawi Congress Party led to his six-month imprisonment during the declared state of emergency. In 1953 the first Malawian was appointed to an administrative post as a District Assistant Administrator.

After the creation of a “locally-based civil service providing for the appointment of administrative officers regardless of race” (544), the effort to Africanize the protectorate’s administrative system progressed with the creation of the Nyasaland Localisation Committee—chaired by Ghana’s civil service head.10 In its 1960 (Localisation) report, this Committee put forward two principal recommendations: (1) that Africanization should “proceed at the greatest possible speed” within the parameters of the civil service’s commitments to merit and expertise (so as not to “push out” expatriates) and (2) that a school of administration should be established to train and certify Malawian talent to be hired into public service.

Elaborating upon the implementation of this process, Baker details a rather intricate pattern of attrition whereby some senior expatriates who had exhausted their maximum compensation benefits (including educational allowances for dependents) opted to leave their posts while other Europeans were subsequently promoted, leaving room at the lower ranks for Malawian hires. Thus, “the greatest possible speed” was incremental at best; in fact, after independence President Kamuzu Banda, consistent with his intention to “build bridges between the races,” pledged to uphold meritocracy in the administrative service in the following public statement11:

I do not want to dismiss any European just because he has a white skin... our African civil servants...must be patient, they must be trained, they must become efficient before they can expect me to promote them into the jobs now occupied by Europeans. I would rather be shot dead... than Africanise just to please anyone who wants Africanisation. (Report of the Localisation Committee quoted by Baker 1972, 557)

By 1972, the administrative service had been 85% Africanized; nonetheless, Baker’s references to the qualitative impacts of the process appear somewhat ambiguous. On one hand, he infers that the bureaucracy was bloated in having noted its “double-waist” (or “less-sharply narrowing pyramid”) referring to the attrition pattern discussed above.12 On the other, Baker concludes that as a whole the Africanization process has been highly successful—“One is left with the distinct impression that the continuing emphasis on experience, training, and proven ability has been largely successful in maintaining at least a satisfactory level of efficiency.” (555)

The Hastings Kamuzu Banda Presidency 1964-1994

Until his return to Malawi in 1958 to assume a political leadership role, Kamuzu Banda spent much of his adult life in London as a practicing physician. Prior to earning his medical degrees at the University of Edinburgh, he traveled to the United States to pursue secondary education at the Wilberforce Institute (Ohio) and undergraduate studies at Indiana University and the University of Chicago. Banda was appointed Prime Minister of Malawi in the latter weeks of the transition leading up to independence.

During the months leading up to his election as Malawi’s first president, Kamuzu Banda largely adhered to policies in-place during the pre-independence transition era described above. His immediate task entailed assembling a political party apparatus that could place Banda into power indefinitely—as “president for life.” That effort was accomplished (up until 1993) by the Malawi Congress Party’s (MCP’s) one-party control withits patronage system that originally sought donations (before independence) and demanded rents (or payments) afterward. Lwanda relates that the new MCP first solicited donations of agricultural products (called “food baskets” that could be converted to cash) from small farmers as well as from Asian, European, and even African businessmen who prospered in the formal economy. Over time, the MCP’s demands for larger payments forced weaker businessmen to retreat from the cash economy and enter the informal sector that included subsistence farmers (using maize as currency) and small cash businesses (e.g., taxi and minivan transportation services) wherein transactions were seldom recorded much less regulated (2006,527). These marginalized businessmen later emerged in covert opposition to Banda’s regime (as discussed below). Kamuzu Banda’s autocratic rule was bolstered as well by his preferential treatment of his home Central Region and discriminatory policies toward the Northern (most educated) and Southern (largest population of Muslims) regions; some researchers attribute these outcomes to the distribution of patronage benefits rather than to regional-ethnic identities (see Ferree and Horowitz 2010). In that the Central Region included matrilineal tribes, Banda likely had success exploiting what Chirambo calls “cultural populism” by demonstrating his roles and responsibilities as [guardian, protector, and provider] for women (2009, 81-82). Lwanda likens Kamuzu Banda’s autocratic rule to that of Kwame Nkrumah, the first president of Ghana, who reportedly said, “Seek ye first the political kingdom and all will be added unto you.” (2006, 532)

That Kamuzu Banda was both a repressive dictator but also a cult hero13 appears beyond dispute. In some cases, his repressive tendencies were institutionalized within the MCP; notably, the legal requirement that all citizens must possess (i.e. purchase) membership cards in part funded the one-party system made possible by a new constitution adopted in 1966 that also declared Banda as “life president.” Patrimonialism was institutionalized as well in the creation (and subsequent reconstruction) of what was known as the Press Trust, a conglomeration of corporate entities overseen by MCP leaders as trustees (structural adjustment efforts on the part of international development organizations took aim at this Trust in the late-1980s). In other cases, Banda personally spearheaded acts of political repression that included (1) removing four cabinet ministers who proposed limiting his powers (known as the “Cabinet Crisis” of 1964)—causing others to resign in protest and (2) having three ministers (who supported a multi-party system) found dead at a traffic “accident” scene, even though all three had tent pins piercing their skulls (see Chirambo 2002, 206).

Much of the civil repression endured under Kamuzu Banda’s rule tied in with his call for “unity and solidarity.” Citizens were subjected to conservative dress codes (prohibiting slacks and shorts for women14) and to bans against kissing in public (and censorship of movies showing it). On a broader scale, “unity and solidarity” justified Banda’s initiative to establish Chichewa, a language widely spoken in Banda’s home (Central) region as the nation’s official language. Kamwendo explains the situation:

Unity and singularity were key values in the authoritarian regime of Kamuzu Banda: one party (Malawi Congress Party); one leader (Life President Kamuzu Banda); one language (Chichewa); and one nation (Malawi)…Recognizing that language is one of the key markers of ethnolinguistic identity, the Banda regime…began the process of developing and promoting Chichewa at the expense of other indigenous languages. (2002, 140)

Kamwendo suggests that Banda’s principal intention was to marginalize the influence of the (traditionally well educated) Northern region where (Chi)tumbuka was(is) predominantly spoken (144). Perhaps Banda’s support of women and women’s rights challenges assertions of his repression; yet as indicated above, such advocacy may have aligned with strategies to exploit cultural populism—especially as it applied to matrilineal communities in Banda’s Central Region (see Chirambo 2009).

As typical of patrimonial rulers, Kamuzu Banda used the party apparatus (with the help of a competent civil service) to foster business patronage through economic growth. Cammack and Kelsall comment upon the moral implications of Banda’s “productive” patronage as distinct from “less productive forms—corruption, predation and theft—[that] were not much tolerated. Banda stated that his ‘main business’ was the maintenance of a stable government, efficient, honest and incorruptible administration…’” (2011, 90) Generally, these patrimonial policies were directed toward import substitution, the effort to reduce dependency on foreign goods. Economic growth was sustained until the late 1970’s when the regime confronted global oil shocks and international development (i.e. structural adjustment) programs designed to rearrange the nation’s economic policies (90).