Political Freedom

Let me first of all say that telling this story or rather, giving this lecture is one of the most difficult tasks I have so far had to undertake. I am what you might call a practising politician and like the great majority of those who practise a vocation or an art or a profession in everyday life I do not have nearly as much time as I would like to study the theory of my job. Any doctor will tell you that he is hard put to it to keep abreast of the most modern discoveries and techniques even in his preferred field; and this applies at least equally to the politician who is called upon to play his part in the day-to-day business of government. A good deal of what I have to say will therefore be little more than thinking aloud -going back over the ground and seeing how my theories are standing up to the hard facts of political responsibility in modern Africa.

If I said that I believed fervently in political freedom I would be saying no more than the truth. It would be a meaningless statement, however, because it would leave untouched the essential question of what political freedom is, and because I should immediately have to qualify it by adding 'as I understand it', or 'in principle', or some such words. In fact I find it rather easier to define what this phrase does not mean than what it does. Clearly it can not be equated with independence, because this modern world has plenty of examples of independent countries where political freedom is non-existent, whatever their leaders may say. One can go no further in this direction than to say that it is more likely to be found in a society, which has a final control over its affairs than in one which has not. Equally clearly it is not strictly connected with a particular form of government - monarchy or republic, federation or unitary state (to use two words which are fashionable in Uganda at the moment).

The British, who have a monarchy, can rightly claim to enjoy a large measure of political freedom; the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics and the new Republic of South Africa can not. Nevertheless I must obviously attempt a definition if we are to begin to understand one another, and I will start with 'politics'. Without quoting from a dictionary this word to my mind covers that segment of human thought and activity which is concerned with the ordering of relationships between the various groups in a society. This definition may not be invulnerable, but it seems to me to embrace most of the generally accepted usages of the word, whether it is applied to the world as a whole or to the life of a small community on an island in the Pacific. Our second word 'freedom' has been defined as 'the deliverance of man from the power of man'. If we adopt that definition -and with certain reservations I think we can -it follows that political freedom means the enjoyment by an individual, or by a group of individuals with common interests, of the right to voice without restraint from others their views as to how the affairs of the society of which they are members should be regulated. Before I explain just how far I believe this to be desirable I must describe briefly my ideas with regard to the true nature and functions of government.

Every man is born into a community. He is a member or a family, of a clan, of a tribe, and of a nation. His behaviour and ways of thought are moulded from his earliest years to fit him to take his place in each of these organisations. So far as it is open to him, however, he will always tend to associate with other individuals within each group with whom he shares common desires or beliefs or common interests. And such associations will inevitably come into conflict sooner or later with other associations which have different ideas or other interests. The necessity then arises of devising some means of dealing with this conflict and of maintaining good order and a united community. Conversely two associations of individuals may find that their interests coincide, even if only temporarily, in a common need -in which case a further device is required to organise some degree of co-operation.

Such arbitration and such co-operation does not just simply happen of its own accord. In each instance some further person or persons has to be acknowledged by the groups concerned as an arbitrator in their dispute or as a leader and organiser in their combined effort, and his or their authority has to be recognised and obeyed by common consent. In Africa we are familiar enough with the concept of the head of a family or of a clan, of a council of elders or of a chief, as a body whose function it is to regulate the affairs and relationships of society at a given level, and to see that decisions however unpopular they may be to some are carried out for the good of all.

I give this illustration because I believe that it reflects in the simplest of human associations the true functions of the State in the life of the community as a whole. The State has a two-fold task; it has to maintain order and it has to promote the welfare of the whole community. And because the State must have the means of ensuring that these tasks are effectively carried out, the community entrusts an individual or a small group with the special task of making and enforcing rules for these purposes.

This central authority we call 'the government', and just as at village level the peaceful settlement of disputes and the organisation of self-help depends on consent to the authority of a leader, so the government can only carry out its real task satisfactorily when the community as a whole consents to its rule. Please note that I am not saying at this point that all good government is necessarily democratic. An absolute monarch, even a dictator, may well win the enthusiastic consent of his people, and not a few such arrangements are recorded in history. It should also be noted that the consent need not necessarily be explicit. Even acquiescence is a form of consent -in every country there are large numbers of people who have no interest in politics but who are prepared to obey the laws made by their governments, perhaps without enthusiasm but nevertheless without any true feeling of opposition.

Conversely - and this is very relevant to political developments in Africa in recent years - any form of government, however good its intentions, which is not supported by the consent of the people, is a form of tyranny. The tyranny need not take the most obvious form of totalitarian dictatorship or of ruthless autocracy: it may simply be the rule of civil servants who, while making rules which they sincerely believe to be necessary for the maintenance of good order and the promotion of welfare, at the same time overlook the necessity of carrying the people with them and thus find themselves increasingly in the position of having to rule by force.

In making this point I am not necessarily attacking in the narrowest sense the colonial regime under which most of us have been brought up. We must, I think, be honest in this and admit that it has brought to our peoples great material benefits, and that for many years it was in fact accepted without deeply felt opposition by the great majority of them. The picture has now altered, however, and the consent is passing rapidly, if it has not already passed, to the new class of political leaders which has now emerged. That is the true meaning of the wind of change of which we have heard so much recently. The dilemma of the colonial system - and in my view the point at which it is most open to criticism - lies in its inability to give Africans direct experience of the practical problems of government, while at the same time it encourages their urge towards independence. The resultant frustration carries with it very real dangers to which I shall return later.

I have tried to show that the principle of consent to recognised authority must operate at all levels of a free and organised society. This principle is fundamental to our consideration of political freedom because it implies the surrender in the interests of the community of part of the individual's or the group's essential freedom to act only in accordance with his own desires or immediate and narrow interests. It recognises that the community as a whole is greater than its component parts and has over-riding claims over them. What does this mean in practice so far as the relationships between individuals and governments are concerned? The implications are clear enough in the sphere of personal liberty.

We all recognise the right of the State to restrain law breakers, to impose taxes on a man's wealth, to call on his services in times of emergency. Should political freedom be subject to the same limitations and restraints? And if so, how are we to recognise when they can be rightly applied and when their use is tantamount to tyranny?

I suggest that exactly the same principles apply in the realm of political relationships as in that of social relationships. In my ideal society every individual or group has a right to declare under what system he or it would like to live, and what programme it thinks the government should follow. That right must, however, be voluntarily subordinated to the decision of the majority, and must recognise the authority of the government which that decision has placed in power. 

(E. Lucas: What is Freedom? OUP)