2005 Speeches
 |
Ambassador Brazeal |
Farewell Speech by Ambassador Aurelia E. Brazeal
Amharic version (pdf)
Ethiopian Chamber of Commerce
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
Good afternoon. It is a great pleasure to be here once again as a guest of the Ethiopian Chamber of Commerce, and I want to thank Ato Andualem and all the members of the Chamber who have been such gracious hosts and enthusiastic program partners during my time in Ethiopia.
This is my final speech in Ethiopia, as I have come to the end of my three-year tour.
In thinking about what to say today, my heart and mind said, “Go back to your roots growing up in Atlanta, Georgia.” As a diplomat and ultimately as an Ambassador, I have frequently reflected on my childhood days and how valuable they were to me. At home I received knowledge about and an appreciation for African–American culture, which has been a bedrock of inspiration, motivation, and strength as my work unfolded. Then, as now, I particularly liked what was called, when I was a child, Negro Spirituals. One song in particular, “Done Made My Vow” by African-American composer Adolphus Hailstork, is particularly meaningful. Learning about this song from my cousin Brazeal Dennard – himself, I am proud to say, a distinguished conductor and composer – I was drawn to the text and to the emotional content of the music.
My cousin told me how our parents’ generation relied on the lesson in this spiritual and many others to get them through difficult times. However hard times were, their total and complete message to us as we grew up was that we must persevere to achieve our goals in life, no matter how difficult it seemed. In my life experiences I have drawn upon the spiritual and emotional ties to my culture as an African American. I am still guided by the inspiration of my formative years in the home, church, school, and the community at large, and I am still drawn to the text of “Done Made My Vow:”
“Done made my vow to the Lord;
I will go, I shall go to see what the end will be.
My name is toil, my mother strength,
my future achievement, my goal is pride.”
I am also a child of the 1960s and of what we in the U.S. call the “Baby Boomer” generation, that groundswell of children born in the optimistic wake of World War II. One thing we brought the world is a passionate belief in the power of positive change. Those of you here today, and even your children, are members of generations that will surpass the baby boomers both in size and in contribution; you have the chance to bring tremendous changes to your country and to the world.
You not only will have to decide whether to be a force for positive changes, but also what those changes will be. You have the history of Ethiopia behind you, together with your parents’ hopes and the accomplishments of generations past. As Ethiopian men and Ethiopian women, you have the responsibility – and the privilege – to go see what the end will be.
In thinking about what that end will be, let me focus on women for a moment. In most countries of the world in which I have been, women are major agents of societal change. Why? Because women think beyond self, beyond the individual. A woman thinks of her children, the next generation, and of family and is willing to make changes that promise to benefit the group. She is inclusive, working to spread the benefits of change broadly, with an awareness that even if she herself does not benefit, the larger body will. Because she is usually not in a privileged position in her own society, she does not narrowly think to hoard privilege just for herself. Because she is inclusive, she works with other like-minded persons, leveraging the impact of change. If she is an African or an African-American woman, she also brings awareness of the history of black people in the world and supports the impulse of generosity. When she does reach the position of rulemaker, she listens with an ear to avoid the arrogance of power, having been on the receiving end of arrogance. She values her uniqueness, relishes her role, and is the welcoming face to others seeking the same enlightenment.
As the first American woman Ambassador to Ethiopia, I applaud Ethiopian women and the progress they have made in very difficult societal circumstances and their enduring efforts to go see what the end will be.
What else marks the presence of agents of positive change? These women –– and men –– understand the great challenge of the 21st Century –– or of any century for that matter: how to get those in power to share power with those who have none. In Ethiopia, I believe a clear consensus exists on the need for political pluralism and multipartyism and on the need for economic liberalization and removal of restrictive government controls in order to promote economic growth. I also believe that most Ethiopians believe in the rights protected by your Constitution. I also believe most Ethiopians want balanced access to the media. I also believe that most Ethiopians realize that a democratic form of government, with its respect for the civil rights of the individual, creates the most favorable conditions for assuring that their hard earned gains will be honored in the future.
Let me tell you what ordinary Ethiopians tell me. They tell me that as parents, they do not want their children to live through the violence and upheavals that they experienced. They tell me politicians should respect one another, talk civilly to one another, and focus on issues important to the people, not focus on tearing each other down. They tell me Ethiopian society historically has not valued compromise and accommodation but yet they yearn for these traits for their children and for their country’s leaders. They tell me they want the political parties to accept election results, join Parliament, and work from within the system. They value their democratic institutions and the constitution, and they want political parties to do the same. They want peace. They want wise leaders.
Let me tell a short story to illustrate. The version I read – in a speech by Nobel Laureate and Pulitzer Prize winner Toni Morrison, a famous African American writer – was of an old, blind, but wise woman, who, given her wisdom, was held in awe by her community. Even so, there were those who derided her and sought to exploit her blindness and to make fun of her. Three young people visited her one day to ask a question. One of them says: “Old woman, I hold in my hand a bird. Tell me if it is living or dead.” The old woman waits a long time before speaking but finally says, “ I do not know whether the bird you are holding is dead or alive, but what I do know is that it is in your hands. It is in your hands.”
Her answer could mean: if it is dead, you either found it that way, or you killed it. If it is alive, you can still kill it. Whether it is to stay alive is your decision. Whatever the case, it is your responsibility. As I depart Ethiopia, I give you my trust with the bird because it is still alive, the bird of democracy. I can say look, how lovely is this thing you have done –– together. I hope all political parties will take their seats in Parliament and participate in government under the Constitutional framework. Then we can all go see what the end will be.
Toni Morrison also has spoken about what she calls “the future of time.” She used this phrase to express her concern that people have become too mired in the past – too focused on what has been – and too little interested in the future. Looking forward , for example, is there a consciousness of a year 3000 , a year 4000 that hovers in or near our consciousness? The past is getting longer, and the future is seen by many to be withered and without promise. Morrison calls on us to discard that which holds us back and to harvest the best of our past – “emancipation, generosity, acute political awareness and a sense of shared and mutually responsible society” – and use it to build a better future.
Now, some sections of the media say the future is already a catastrophe. Why is this? In Ethiopia, I believe there are a couple of factors. One is what I would call “Identity politics” and the other, especially at this moment, is what I think of as “Internet politics”.
Identity politics is when, as was the case in last year’s elections in the U.S., a voter is too often urged to choose a candidate or party based upon their identification with a narrow issue or group, rather than on higher principles of national good. In the Ethiopian context, Internet politics is when a loud and vitriolic minority of voices, many of whom have not been in this country for years or even decades and have far less at stake than Ethiopians at home, urge those actually living here to act on the basis of old-think ethnic identification or frozen and aged images of how Ethiopia used to be.
The future, then, if we let it, may well be shoved to the periphery of social debate by those who would deify the past. There are Ethiopians fixated on the political conditions that existed in 1974, or 1991, or even 2000. There are those who want to say there has been no positive changes since then, or even no positive change, period. There are those who want to bury the undeniable positive central features of Ethiopia’s present and deny the country’s promising future.
These central features are: a multiparty system here to stay; a legal constitution and institutions to frame debates, even about how to change both; economic reforms to come – and I personally urge faster reforms – as Ethiopia races to join the global economy; a vigorous press and a social climate that increasingly promotes free expression – another area in which I hope there are great strides in the near future; and a development agenda that promises grassroots results. These are features that, if carried through forcefully and positively, prefigure a redemptive future and national renewal.
How will this be accomplished? By reinvigorating the age-old concepts of shared values and coalition building, values that have demonstrated their effectiveness in settings throughout history and around the world. By being inclusive. By rejecting the destructive potential of bigotry and prejudice, those kinds of hatreds based on ethnic differences.
In Ethiopia, a nation made up of over 80 ethnic groups, it is not surprising that some degree of ethnic rivalry should exist. But, as our knowledge of the world all too clearly demonstrates, when rivalry turns to hatred, all too suddenly, ethnic tension can erupt into more dangerous forms. So this afternoon, I want to make a plea for tolerance – the only antidote there is to ethnic intolerance.
There are too many groups and people in Ethiopia – just, I hasten to add, as there are in the United States and other parts of the world - going their separate ways, excluding others they see as different from themselves. Our young people must be reminded that we may not have to love each other, but we do have to respect each other, cooperate with each other, and live together in peace and harmony. That means we must practice tolerance. The vision then is not really a multicultural society – in America, in Ethiopia, or anywhere; rather, the vision is to bring into being a multicultural individual, one who values all the heritage his or her nation offers.
Ethiopia must now take the opportunity to examine itself, to strengthen its democratic foundations, and to make the participation of citizens in governance a meaningful and consequential experience. As Dr. Johnetta Cole, former President of my Alma Mater, Spelman College, said, “We are for difference, for allowing difference, for learning to understand difference, and for respecting difference until difference doesn’t make any more difference.” I think Ethiopia can reach this state, with your help.
I opened with a song, so let me close my remarks with the third verse of another African-American song, one that very much represents my hopes for Ethiopia and its people, moving forward. For me, this verse is like a prayer:
“God of our weary years,
God of our silent tears,
Thou who hast brought us thus far on the way;
Thou who hast by Thy might,
Led us into the light,
Keep us forever on the path, we pray.
Lest our feet stray from the places, our God, where we met thee,
Lest our hearts, drunk with the wine of the world, we forget Thee;
Shadowed beneath Thy hand,
May we forever stand,
True to our God,
True to our native land.”
I shall go, I will go, to see what the end will be. I hope you will go too. Above all, I know that I shall cherish the memory of my time in Ethiopia and with the peoples of Ethiopia for the rest of my life.
Thank you.