Jean

I honestly can’t keep up. So much stuff keeps happening.

I recently saw that Jean Kennedy Smith passed away at the age of 92. Jean was the last surviving sibling of John F. Kennedy. She was U.S. ambassador to Ireland in the 1990s and played a pivotal role in the Northern Irish peace process. As with the death of the former Burundian president, Jean’s death is one of those things that resonates with me a bit more than some others since I have a connection.

I’ve known about Jean for quite some time. In addition to the fact that she was a member of a famous family, and was famous in her own right, she was also a staunch supporter of the organization I work for. In fact she was on the Board of Directors for a long time. But the first I met her was in November 2012 in New York. She hosted a dinner for a couple of my colleagues and me at a restaurant near her home in Manhattan.

Why would I get a chance to have dinner with her? There’s no doubt that Jean had a fascinating, and sometimes tragic, life. Over the years she increasingly became focused on her support for humanitarian causes, particularly with the disabled. Though she maintained a lower profile that much of the rest of her family, she was keenly aware that her notoriety could be used to make a difference. Through some acquaintances she became involved with our organization, first as a donor and eventually serving on the board. In that capacity, she said that she felt that it was important to stay connected with the work being carried out in the 42 or so countries where we have a presence. One way to do that was through personal connections with those “on the ground”. Inviting us to dinner while we were in town for meetings was one way to do that.

I was working in Burundi at the time, one of the poorest countries on earth. Over the years I’ve made regular trips to the US to attend meetings at our headquarters in New York and periodically travel to Washington DC to some advocacy work on Capitol Hill and with US funding agencies. During the times when my job would involve spending a lot of time visiting projects in poor and/or remote areas and talking with beneficiaries, many of whom were suffering the effects of abject poverty, it was always a sort of whiplash to suddenly find myself at a fundraising gala at the Waldorf Astoria or meeting White House staff regarding US policy in East Africa. A chance to have dinner with the former US ambassador and sister of John F. Kennedy was one of those moments. I have to say, the breadth of experience that my job provides me is a richness that I try never to take for granted.

That morning I was given the name of the restaurant, the address and the time we were to meet. When in Manhattan I make it a point to walk wherever I go, even if my destination is dozens of blocks away. I was staying at The Benjamin, an old hotel on 50^th Street, one of my favorite places to stay when I’m in the city. I looked at the map and realized that I would have quite a walk ahead of me. I wasn’t so worried about the fact that I would be wearing a suit and tie so much as I was concerned about the beating my feet would take from walking a long distance in dress shoes. So I threw the nice shoes in a small backpack, laced up my running shoes and off I went.

The Benjamin

Given that it was November, the air was chilly and I was able to avoid working up a sweat by the time I arrived at the restaurant. I was early but I thought I’d go in anyway and wait inside. Like so many New York restaurants, the place was packed, noisy and a bit stuffy. The hostess greeted me as I walked in and I told her who I was meeting. She pointed me to an older guy who was sort of a caricature of the stereotype Italian waiter (I found out later that he was the manager). In a thick NY accent he told me to follow him. We weaved our way towards the back of the restaurant to a private room. As we walked he welcomed me to the restaurant, told me about how the Kennedy family was near and dear to him and told me that if I needed anything, just to let him know. I never get that sort of treatment in a NY restaurant so my assumption was that he probably thought I was someone important if I was meeting with one of the Kennedys. I didn’t want to do anything to spoil this false impression.

Even though her married surname was Smith, the manager kept referring to her as Mrs. Kennedy. Turns out that the room where we would be dining had seen its share of famous people over the years as the family regularly hosted small dinners there. But it wasn’t one of those restaurants that plasters its walls with photos of all the celebrities that have dined there. It was low-key, not crazy expensive and, in addition to serving wonderful Italian food, they were an attractive option for the Kennedys because they could slip in and out without drawing attention to themselves. The manager told me that Mrs. Kennedy was running a bit late, that I should order a drink and that she would be taking care of everything this evening.

Soon my colleagues would appear and not long afterwards Jean arrived. She apologized for being late, stating that she couldn’t blame it on traffic since her residence was just around the corner. The first thing I noticed about her was that when she was talking with you, her eyes would lock onto you as if whatever you were saying was of particular importance, even if it wasn’t. It may have been something she picked up as an ambassador but whatever the reason, it’s a pleasing thing to feel that the other person is engaged in what you’re saying.

After the pleasantries and introductions the conversation shifted to politics. The 2012 US presidential election was in its last days (Obama would be victorious in his re-election bid over his Republican challenger, Mitt Romney). She entertained a few questions about discussions she’d had with various politicians and other important people over the previous weeks. She talked about Mitt’s relationship with her brother Ted who had passed away three years earlier. Her interest was not only as a woman from a deeply political family but also because Romney was well known to them as governor of their home state of Massachusetts. It became quickly apparent, however, that Jean didn’t want to do the talking. She said clearly that she wanted hear from us: “The reason I invited you was to hear about what you are doing in your respective countries. You are the gladiators of this organization and it’s important for me to learn more about what you are doing.”

I do think it says a lot about her. Here is this woman – one of the most interesting people any of us had ever met (honored by President Obama with the Presidential Medal of Freedom the year before, the highest civilian honor in the US) and she was intent on pushing the conversation towards us. And she was sincere in what she was saying. For most of the evening she listened to us talk about the work that we were doing in our various countries. She asked good questions and wanted to know more about the drivers of the conflicts and the things that were creating the humanitarian needs that we were addressing. She would stop briefly and ask us how we liked the food, making sure that our glasses were topped up and say how the place had been a favorite in her family for years (she knew all the wait staff by their first names). But quickly she would get back on topic, exploring common threads between our contexts with a particular interest in connections to her experiences in supporting the disabled.

I was truly sad to see the evening come to an end. But after a yummy tiramisu and an espresso, we wrapped things up. As we started to make our way for the door I walked beside her and thanked her again for hosting the dinner. I (semi) jokingly told her that we needed to have dinner again and I could ask the questions the next time. She smiled and said she would love that. I then asked if I could have a quick photo with her. She elbowed me as she said something about never passing up a photo op with a handsome man 😊. I quickly took out my phone and handed it to a nearby waiter to take the photo. Jean immediately asked to see it. With a furrowed brow she said, “That won’t do.” She told the bartender to our left to move over so she could have a glance at herself in the mirror behind the bar. After making some small adjustments she said, “Let’s do that again.” The waiter obliged. She looked at the second photo, shrugged her shoulders and said, “That’ll have to work. We can’t take pictures all night.” I gave her a hug and headed on my way. Once around the corner from the restaurant, I slipped out of my dress shoes and back into my running shoes for the long walk back to the hotel. The air was crisp but it was good to be outside.

I saw Jean a few times after that, normally at large events. She was always very gracious but we weren’t ever able to speak for any length of time after that initial dinner. I’m sad to see her go but happy to have known her.

“I don't know what your destiny will be, but one thing I do know: the only ones among you who will be really happy are those who have sought and found how to serve.” -Albert Schweitzer, philosopher, physician, musician, Nobel laureate (1875-1965)

 

 

Unprecedented Times

Unprecedented times. And becoming even more so. The killing of George Floyd is caught on video. Outrage spreads across the country and eventually around the world. Protests are unleashed in the midst of the current pandemic which lingers on, in some contexts now, as a backstory. Statues of Confederate generals and former slave traders are taken down. It’s an amazing time.

The movement has morphed from a focus on policing to a general focus on racism. Often countries around the world look at events in the US with curiosity, sometimes smugness, bewilderment or disdain. What has been interesting is how quickly this event became internalized in so many places around the world. It quickly went from, “Can you believe what’s going on in the US?” to “Come to think of it, this is not just a US thing. This connects with a massive issue in our country as well.”

I track a lot of news. I focus on Somalia. Kenya. The US. Even before the recent death of the Burundian president, I was periodically tracking events in the country that was our home for six years. I periodically consult local online news sites in Idaho where I have obvious connections. I have news feeds from sources that I consider “balanced” as well as others that tend to be biased against my leanings. I like to challenge what I think and believe, trying to understand why others think the way they do. It feel that one needs to be intentional so as not to foster an information bubble, a phenomenon that many seem to be content with.

Since the horrible arrest/killing of George Floyd there has been an enormous outpouring of opinions and editorials. I find a lot of it fascinating and enlightening. You also have a lot of people saying much of the same things – which is understandable since there are a lot of people having similar experiences. As with the MeToo movement, I was concerned that this issue might flare up and then fade without significant change. What’s encouraging is seeing that there is a concerted effort not to let that happen, as it has in the past.

Sheep-ish

Viewed from the outside, the US has for some time seemed to have experienced failed leadership on a lot of levels. The pandemic, a good example of this, has been managed in much the same way as the issues around climate change or MeToo. Childish insults. Ignoring data. Self-destructive polarization. Inability to focus, or even identify, the essential things that need to be done. Decisions are made not on the basis of what is the right thing to do but on political calculation.

Leaders are in charge of systems that are failing. The people in power who can change those systems don't seem motivated to do so. It’s not that they are all racist, nature-hating, misogynists (though some might be). But their primary objective is generally not to improve the well-being of their constituents. Their focus is political survival and, in some cases, their own financial well-being. They manipulate the population into continuing to support them as they pretend to care about the peoples’ interests. Events like this are leveraged to stoke populist agendas. 

“The people can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders. That is easy. All you have to do is tell them they are being attacked and denounce the pacifists for lack of patriotism and exposing the country to danger. It works the same way in any country.” – Hermann Göring, Nazi military leader (1893-1946)

 

The American Dream

The institutionalized marginalization of minorities in the US is generally not discussed as racism. In fact many of these policies are cloaked in the myth of the “American dream”. If you work hard, the system will grant you prosperity. The reason I call it a myth is that the “system” only works for some and really shouldn’t be considered American if it doesn’t work for a large percentage of Americans. The sad part is that the social structure necessary to operationalize the American dream, making it truly work for everyone, doesn’t exist. Given the lack of incentive for politicians to do what is morally right, it’s left to political calculation. And so far it hasn’t been politically costly for leaders to ignore the marginalized and as a result nothing changes. Populism generally succeeds in getting people to back their leaders even if those same people are victimized by the system driven by these leaders.

One common tactic is to pretend that social services are the equivalent of socialism. You select some services (schools, police, firefighters, medicare, military, etc.) as acceptable, even laudable, and others as socialist (healthcare and social safety nets). Support which could veritably undergird the “American dream”, such as assisting the poor to escape their cycle of poverty, are considered expensive and superfluous. And if you propose policies to help the poor, people drop the S-word on you. You’re denounced as a socialist.

“Many people consider the things government does for them to be social progress but they regard the things government does for others as socialism.” – Earl Warren, jurist and former Chief Justice (1891-1974)

The next few months will be a watershed moment. If we assume that the average politician (not all of them), regardless of the idealistic motivations they may have had when they ran for office, once in power has zero moral fiber, how then can doing the right thing also become a savvy political decision? For me, this needs to be at the center of the focus. If we can change the system, and human nature, how can you make the flawed system still produce desired outcomes?

What might be exciting in what’s going on in the US is that there is a sense that much of the population is honestly and truly fed up. The question is whether, in the end, apathy win out over the anger welling up in much of the population. It’s been said that the opposite of love is not hatred. It’s indifference. I tend to agree. Prosperity and comfort can breed indifference. So can disillusionment. But as fewer and fewer people in the US are comfortable with what is going on, or have decided that they really can make a difference, it just might bring about change.

I just finished a book called Educated, about a woman from my home state of Idaho who escapes an abusive family situation (that I won’t go into here but it’s a good read). The primary theme in the book is the power of her education to help her to free herself from her toxic upbringing but in the process, sadly, alienate herself from her family. As I thought about this woman’s journey, it made me think about so many in the US who, like this woman’s parents, honestly believe they are doing the right thing – defending beliefs that they hold near and dear – but without being open to considering the potentially harmful impact some of those beliefs have. Not only that but these beliefs often come in a package and you defend the whole package because that’s what people on your “side” do. There’s limited critical thinking and very little opportunity, or openness, to question it. Social groups, including everything from the local pub, to church groups, to social media algorithms, foster a sort of “bubble” of influencers, propelling a person even deeper into this package of beliefs. To question anything seems absurd and/or will get you mocked by your peers.

No one is immune to this phenomenon. And I don’t believe education is the only answer. And I certainly don’t believe that formal education is the only answer. The world has always had highly educated people that were evil to the core. I think the author of the book would agree that it’s more about the mindset. Having the freedom to question things. Question your beliefs. Question leaders. Listening to someone you might disagree with. And then, having the integrity to accept that something you’ve always thought, or something you were taught, or something your friends believe, might be wrong and/or harmful. The older you get, the more humility this requires. It also requires a great deal of courage. People in these circles are not accepting of those among their ranks who fall outside their norms. Not toeing the party line can open you to mockery and/or alienation. This is not specific to any political persuasion. For example Pro-Lifers and Christians are frowned upon on the Left. Pro-Choicers and LGBTQs on the Right are demonized. It’s always dumbed down to good guys and bad guys. White hats and black hats. Right vs. wrong. People are generally not as tolerant that they portray themselves to be. Nuance is nowhere to be found. As a result, people of all parties, races and religions end up feeling like they have a justified reason to hate.

The system is broken. The people that are driving the system are not being held accountable. Citizens, the people that should be holding them accountable, are not doing their job. Part of the answer is in our schools, our churches, mosques and synagogues. Most of these institutions are failing our children. Children are being told what to think and not how to think. They grow up thinking and acting like people in their respective communities, regardless of whether these beliefs are harmful. Leaders of these institutions should be held accountable by their communities. If not, the citizens that come out the other side will continue to perpetuate the flawed governance that plagues the country and result in the dramas unfolding today.

The problems are deep and cannot be solved overnight. That’s why I mention kids. I was a school teacher for eight years. I’m aware of the amazingly positive things that can happen during those years. I’m also aware of the immense damage that can be done as well. But kids are generally more open to new ideas than adults. We need to teach children not to hate, to be open, to think critically and to seek truth. It should not make us afraid that our children might grow up to think differently than we do. We should not fear the truth.

End of an Era in Burundi

Things happen pretty fast. I started to write a few days ago and other obligations took over. When I picked it up to write again, the George Floyd thing had blossomed to become an international phenomenon. So I changed tack and was headed a bit more in that direction (which I'll probably do later). Then yesterday we were informed about the passing of the Burundian president. Admittedly, that last one is not likely to get much of a rise out of most people but for us it was significant.

I should explain. For many reading this, you are aware that we spent six years in Burundi. It’s the country where our daughters lived the first years of their lives. We developed many friends that we have in our lives today. And a lot happened while we were there and we have many fond memories.

We moved to Burundi in September 2010 as I began my new job in a country about the size of the US state of Connecticut. It’s the second most densely populated country in Africa and is one of the poorest places on earth. The capital, Bujumbura, is a city of about 3 million people beautifully nestled on the shores of Lake Tanganyika, with a fantastic view of the Itombwe Mountains in the Congo (reaching nearly 3,500m./11,500ft.) across the water. The country consists mostly of rolling, deforested hills and almost every square meter is cultivated as farming is how most people attempt to eke out a living.

 There is no question that when President Pierre Nkurunziza assumed power in 2005, he inherited a country with a troubled past. But the sports teacher turned militant turned politician was ill-prepared, or rather dangerously prepared, for the task that lay before him. In 1972 his father was killed in genocidal violence perpetrated by the minority Tutsi leadership that had governed the country since colonial times. The perpetual abuse by the Tutsis against the majority Hutu population is important in that the hatred that it infused laid the foundation for the unending tit-for-tat that has ensued to date.

 Ethnic civil war broke out in 1993, separate but related to the genocide just to the north in Rwanda that would unfold the following year. Nkurunziza came to be in charge of military and political wings of a rebel group that would evolve to become today’s ruling party. After the war, his party was allowed to join the government, setting the stage for his first governmental appointment (and possibly the greatest irony of all) as Minister for Good Governance.

 When he became president in 2005, there was some hope that he might help in improving strained ethnic relations, usher in stability and lay the foundation for much needed economic growth. Though his father was Hutu and his mother was Tutsi, Nkurunziza self-identified as a Hutu. This tribal mixing, fairly common at the time, was rarely discussed when promoting the puzzling concept of ethnic/moral superiority of one side or the other. Being of mixed ethnicity could have served as a foundation for national reconciliation. Alas, that was not to be.

 The president carried with him into office a deep-seeded hatred that would drive his decision making until his death. There’s no question that the killing of his father, combined with years of hiding and fighting in the bush, fostered this hatred. There’s also no question that the mistreatment of Hutus, not only by the Tutsi but also Belgian rule before them, drove many of the decisions that his government would make over the years. Though he had become an evangelical Christian, the 28 bible verses that communicate that vengeance is God’s responsibility rather than man’s would strategically and emphatically be ignored.

 In Michela Wrong’s brilliant book, It’s Our Turn To Eat (about Kenya), she describes this phenomenon. When a people group gains power, and you haven’t had it and/or don’t know how long you will have it, you take full advantage of it. The others did when they were in power so now that it’s your turn, you enrich yourself and take care of your grudges. It happens in almost every country. In the case of Burundi, this unshakeable obsession, generally under the radar and not understood by the international community, prompted a long string of irrational policies and further impoverished the country.

 Over the time that we were in the country, we could see this unfold firsthand. I can’t claim to fully understand the ghosts that haunted the president and what led him to do what he did, but in the end it hurt not only his political opponents but also his own constituents. His government’s economic policy was reckless and ill-informed. He surrounded himself with the faithful rather than the talented. Meetings I had with ministers and other government officials reflected people that had a relatively shallow understanding of what was going on or what needed to be done. Many of them had no background or education in the sectors they were running. The government stumbled along with very little accountability.

 All this would worsen dramatically with the attempted coup in 2015. The damage his administration was inflicting on the country was apparent across ethnic boundaries but the fear of reprisal prevented any legitimate opposition. In the end, the coup plotters were primarily of his own ethnicity. When the coup attempt failed, paranoia at all levels began to run even deeper. We would hear the nightly battles between opposition and government forces. Almost every evening after dark you would hear gunfire, sometimes grenades and even mortars. This went on for months. Frequently they would leave the bodies of the slain, often bound with signs of torture, in a visible location for the population to discover the next morning. Early on the government had created an informal armed militia that was distributed throughout the country – generally young thugs that would threaten any opposition to the president and did so with impunity. They would complement the work of the police force which was also doing the bidding of the president.

 Over this period hundreds of thousands of Burundians would flee their country, most of whom are still in exile. Though many are Tutsi, many are not. Some fled in fear. Others fled in hunger. My wife and I worked with an earlier wave of Burundian (and Congolese) refugees in Tanzania from 2007 to 2010 before moving to Burundi where my team was supporting their return and reintegration. After the coup attempt, and the subsequent crackdown implemented across the country, a couple hundred thousand fled again, many of whom had already fled once or twice before. All in all I spent nine years working with Burundians.

 So here we are. The cause of the former president's death was announced to be heart attack. However his spin doctors announced his hospitalization on Friday for “an illness”. Then on the weekend they said he was doing well. On Monday he died. While it could have been a heart attack, it doesn’t really sound like it. It appears more likely that it was Covid-19. His wife, who many believe to be a dear woman, has been in hospital in Nairobi being treated for the coronavirus (and I think some other family members as well). But the president had consistently dismissed and ignored the pandemic saying it wasn’t a threat, that God would protect them, and that his country would not submit to the economy-inhibiting measures to stem its spread. A political career riddled with harmful policies ended with one that contributed to his own death.  

 I have mixed feelings about this whole thing. I’m sad for his family and friends that have lost a loved one. There is no question I would have preferred that he step down from power long ago for the good of the country, that someone would come to power that would reel in the systematic dishing out of vengeance and begin the process of healing. Unfortunately that remains unlikely. There are some signs that the president-elect might be slightly more moderate but the world is full of examples where things start that way and deteriorate thereafter. Time will tell. Our prayers are with the family of the former president and the new leadership. May they not repeat the sins of the past.