A man of the people, in search of identity

Through the lens of El Sadat and Chinua Achebe

The experiences of others provide the traction with which one can understand one’s own life. Similarly, the state and development of a nation can be best considered in comparison with the experiences of other nations. By analyzing Chinua Achebe’s A Man of the People and Anwar el Sadat’s In Search of Identity, I want to discuss how Pakistan has fared as a nation and a state since its inception. Moreover, and perhaps more importantly, these comparative analyses will be used to gauge how far we have to go before we can leave a mark in the annals of history.

Achebe focuses on the trials and triumphs of Nigeria as it emerged into the post-World War 2 era as a nation state; this is done using a fictional protagonist, Odili Samalu, who seeks to lead his nation out of its quagmire of corruption. Sadat, on the other hand, depicts Egypt’s journey through colonialism, tracing the time from up to and beyond King Farooq’s tenure as leader of the Egyptian nation through the lens of his own struggles. The tangible themes we find in the two books are the transition of power, public attitudes, foreign influence, and the testing of leaders’ mettle through personal trauma.

Unsurprisingly, the themes of self-discovery of the youth and search of identity run throughout. Despite the experiences of each of the two protagonists, Odili Samalu and the autobiographical Sadat, differing in several respects, the “search for identity” remains constant for both. By revisiting these books and exploring at length the protagonists’ states of mind, we come to discern how Pakistan is in dire need of the same search for existentialist meaning, a meaning that has somehow been muddied in our present times of senseless turmoil. If that search were conducted with honesty, sincerity, and an open mind, Pakistan could soon be pulled out of the present quagmire of chaos, despondency, and tragedy.

The most fundamental attribute we find is the contrasting attitudes of the two peoples, Nigerians and Egyptians. The attitude of each nation determines the path that each protagonist takes. Since the leader is of the people, he mirrors much of the same aspirations as those of the masses. If the public stands for little, it will fall for much. This is precisely what happened to Nigeria! Many false claims were made by its leaders: tall promise after tall promise, and empty rhetoric. And so, the leader continues to deceive the unthinking population, while the people allow themselves to be deceived, endlessly. While Odili Samalu struggles to find his place in a society of confused identities and hollow ideals, he finds that change is impossible:

“… as long as men are swayed by their hearts and stomachs and not by their minds, the Chief Nangas of this world will continue to get away with anything.” (A Man of the People)

Thus, because the people continue to aspire for material gains and a pecuniary lifestyle as their sole agenda, they want to keep the status quo intact. In addition, each individual’s fixation on his or her self keeps the people stuck in the mud. That is precisely one of the reasons that Odili, despite contesting elections to wipe out the self-seeking administration, fails to win the hearts and minds of the people. And so, the revolutionary tide gets nipped in the bud when it melts down into a military coup, a hallmark of Nigerian politics. A Man of the People talks about the indifferent and gullible populace lacking an interest in improving their collective condition, and its lethal potential to do anything for money, even when that meant putting one’s motherland on the altar.

Egyptians, compared to Nigerians, exhibit a profounder sense of pride and ownership of their land. This is due to several geographical, historical, and cultural factors. El Sadat’s book shows that while Egypt tumbled out of foreign domination under King Farooq, people gradually turned to have greater faith in their independent character under Gamal Abdel Nasser. The Free Officers’ Organization took up the mantle of channeling the entrenched faith of Egyptians in their land by preparing them for a greater responsibility toward the country:

“The Egyptian people may endure poverty, deprivation, even starvation, but they can never accept a hurt to their pride.” (In Search of Identity)

The Nigerians failed to realize their responsibilities and duties toward their own nation. The main explanation lies in the fact that Nigeria—like most of Africa—has unnatural demarcations inherited from the decolonization spree. The whimsical demarcations disregarded tribal borders and loyalties and imposed a more or less ad-hoc system of national borders. So far, the nationalism that national boundaries usually command is amiss in Nigeria, since the people have been unable to transcend tribalism and coalesce into a nation. Understandably, the creation of such disunited nations was deliberate on the part of the colonial powers. The evidence of this injustice committed on the breast of Africa can be witnessed today in crises in Sudan, South Sudan, and Rwanda. Egyptians, nonetheless, boast a 7000-year-old civilization and have been as such carried into the present nation state status with ease. Egypt, once stirred into rebellion and reminded of its historical might and main, could not be expected to stay put or take foreign domination lying down. El Sadat frequently dwells in the memory of his ancestral Mit Abul Kom village on the banks of the Nile, and this attitude of his has its genesis in the traditional Egyptian reverence of the motherland, the rootedness in the soil. On the other hand, in A Man of the People, Odili explores that very “identity” through a critique of his own people, the rootedness in ideas.

The paths of each protagonist are charted differently, as determined by their differing national contexts; however, their journeys in search for meaning for their individual as well as national lives remain analogous.

Similarly, the factor of foreign domination, and the desire of breaking free from it, is quite strong in each of the characters’ (Odili Samalu and Sadat) individual struggles. While Nigeria plodded in the post-colonial era, it was marked by relentless indifference and callousness on the part of the leaders. Fake shortages and hoardings, huge palace buildings (like the one in Versailles during the French Revolution of 1789) while the population languished in poverty, and political victimization (KulMax’s murder in the novel, for instance) were the order of the day. Although it was only after an attack on his own self that Odili Samalu stepped into active politics, the fact remains that he fought to find that identity of his by opposing the tide of time. In El Sadat’s case, the struggle to free Egypt of the yoke of foreign domination sprang from a more officiated source: his time in military service. Being a lover of freedom, justice, openness, and progress, he devoted himself to these ideals, resisted the status quo, and aspired to live in a free society.

While acrimonious opposition from all quarters was meted out to Odili, El Sadat benefitted from his time in military service and won an easy approbation from the people. This inclination toward freedom explains El Sadat’s later introduction of intifah (open society) in Egypt. His lifelong struggle taught him that love alone can win hearts and minds. Similarly, the signing of the Camp David Accords earned him immense criticism, yet he did not fail to recognize that peace trumped all enmity.

Thus, we see that the opposition faced by each protagonist did not lead him to lose faith in his country; in fact, it redoubled it. Both the protagonists, by emphasizing a greater importance of indigenous culture and values, gained greater insights into their own sense of nationhood. For instance, Odili satirizes Chief Nanga’s fixation with European-made products. On his robe cloth, there was the following:

“…100% WOOL: MADE IN ENGLAND.”

For both Odili and Sadat, theirs was a journey of breaking with the colonial heritage of the past and entering a more individualistic era, at the same time feeling perfectly at home with the sweeping changes that surrounded them. Being at the helm (rather than the hold!) of change, the two carried the burden of being nonconformist trendsetters.

Lastly, and most interestingly, affliction, failure, and personal pain are the hallmarks of a great social leader. Odili Samalu underwent a personal tragedy when Chief Nanga exploited his own girlfriend and breached his trust. It was only then that his eyes were opened to the kind of deceitful lives that Nigerian leaders led: lives far detached from those of the village dwellers, countrymen, urban denizens, and the nation at large. Odili Samalu lost his friend in a political feud, enduring brutal charges and beatings at the Nanga election rally, only to come to a greater realization that change is difficult when people are mute. Still, he tries to become that catalyst for change:

“…In such a regime, I say, you died a good death if your life has inspired someone to come forward and shoot your murderer in the chest—without asking to be paid.”

El Sadat says:

“Two places in this world make it impossible for a man to escape from himself: a battlefield and a prison cell.”

“This is the image I have had of myself since childhood. Now, as the landscape of my life unfolds before my eyes, can I claim that this image, which is in effect that of Egypt, has been realized—even recognized?”

Achebe’s conclusions, we observe, are invariably despondent and marked by a forlorn hope of improvement in Nigeria, at least any time soon. On the other hand, Sadat, though not entirely complacent about Egypt’s future, leaves a trail of hope in the spirit of Egypt: that it will sustain itself no matter how glum and morose the circumstances, conviction being played out in the lack of disintegration under the extreme social pressures of the last few years.

Interestingly, Pakistan is an intricate amalgamation of the two conclusions. While our spirits are low, and we see our country plummet by the day in the dirge of news channel analysts, we continue to survive the tormenting whip of challenges, with our parents and teachers harping on the hope in the ideological basis of our country! We have endured the worst rock-bottom scenario, and have more than once emerged as a robust people.

Pakistan is a “hard country,” as Anatol Lieven puts it. Battered and bruised by foreign influences, as well as the naivety and dishonesty of both the public and the leadership, we continue to survive. We have a fair share of enemies both within and without. We have leadership issues more than our rightful share. A public discontent, feelings of insecurity and lack of purpose, Prufrockian paralysis, and a wasteland-esque state of affairs in each state institution continually inhibit our potentials. Nigeria is a country ravaged by similar political vendettas. Egypt has come full circle, and its challenges are ongoing in the shape of the recent Arab Spring turmoil, Morsi’s overthrow, the military coup… God knows what awaits Egypt in the coming months and years. Pakistan, with all its downsides has hope!