There is a story our elders tell about a talking drum that once belonged to the village. In times of drought or danger, the drum called the people together, spoke truth to the chief, and steadied the village. One day, the drum’s keeper accepted a private gift. After that, the rhythms softened whenever the chief’s household erred; the drum saved its fury for strangers. The village did not collapse that day, but it frayed.
Ghana’s civil society, media, our unions, churches, our advocacy groups, think tanks, student movements and pressure groups have long been that drum. They still can be, but the rhythms are changing. Paid advocacy, revolving doors into government, and partisan capture are altering the beat, with ripples we can hear across our democracy. Their faintness in demanding answers, defending institutions and properly scrutinising government policies is gradually withering like lilies in a drought season.
When it comes to the history of Ghana’s civil society and its immeasurable contributions to the progress of the country’s democracy and freedom, it is clear. In 1897, when traditional leaders and an emergent intelligentsia formed the Aborigines’ Rights Protection Society (ARPS) to resist the Crown Lands Bill and Lands Bill, we knew independent, respected and principled voices could convince and influence minds. When Jacob Wilson Sey, the wealthy Fante philanthropist, bankrolled the group, with John Mensah Sarbah, the lawyer, sharpening the legal arguments, while J. E. Casely Hayford gave the intellectual fire; the success of ARPS was sustained by the intellectual and ideological integrity of its members and their willingness to sacrifice their comfort.
Again, in 1920, when Casely Hayford and T. Hutton-Mills helped found the National Congress of British West Africa (NCBWA), an educated elite’s association that pressed for legislative representation, civil service access, and gradual self-government, they not only knitted local grievances but ignited a nationalist wave across West Africa.
This ran onward through churches and unions, the press and professional associations. Under military regimes and single-party experiments, civil society survived in chapels, newsrooms, lecture halls and courtrooms. With the 1992 Constitution, and especially after the criminal libel laws were repealed in 2001 by President Kufuor, the media and civic groups grew bolder, becoming key watchdogs that helped normalise holding power to account.
Since 1993, this has manifested through research institutes, advocacy groups, anti-corruption campaigners, and fierce digital movements. Ghana Integrity Initiative (GII) was key in pushing integrity systems and legal reforms, including their work around whistleblower protections and independent police oversight. CDD and IDEG came into the picture with their focus on demanding better governance practices, which sharpened government policies. IMANI carved a niche for data-heavy policy critique and proposals with their young, sharp minds. OccupyGhana erupted in 2014 with #OccupyFlagstaffHouse, a middle-class protest language of placards, petitions and court actions. Together, these groups helped broaden what citizen voice could sound like, through media discussions, policy papers, street marches, or writ of mandamus. They have helped to lift transparency, participation and trust when they stayed independent and unapologetic about their stands.
However, there is a danger. We are witnessing the voice and real advocacy of civil society and pressure groups being silenced through board appointments, consultancy contracts, and stakeholder engagement, which have blunted their criticism, advocacy and independence. Convenient and cautious partnerships, tokenistic collaboration and friendly foe arrangements are sapping adversarial oversight while projecting an appearance of inclusion.
I am not saying every critic turned consultant has sold out his conscience and integrity. This is because, sometimes, citizens genuinely rotate into public service for honourable reasons, and the fact that governments deserve the best brains to help develop the country, utilising their expertise, should not raise any red flags. However, the pattern matters. When notable advocates accept appointments or government-funded consultancies, the public monitors whether their positions shift. Even the perception of selective outrage bruises their legitimacy.
When yesterday’s bright lines become today’s grey areas, justified as complex trade-offs, when clear human rights abuses and breaches of due process become negotiable and justifiable, depending on who is in power or who is on the receiving end, then there is a danger.
When the public suspects selective advocacy, they tune out, and the burst of activism fades, because the citizens read elite bargains behind the scenes. When they realise that the watchdog has been restrained by contracts or appointments and is now barking with a faint voice, they will question their integrity.
When the people realise that civil society and policy advocates are now defending government actions, they will question their relevance. In the midst of this, the government enjoys protection, and policies go under-scrutinised.
Ghana’s civil society does not need to be perfect. It must simply be independent enough to criticise friends, brave enough to defend yesterday’s principles when today’s comforts tempt otherwise, and transparent enough that when it speaks, we know whose voice carries on the wind. Like the talking drum, when our civil society’s voice is retuned, the beat of its advocacy will grow honest again.
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DISCLAIMER: The Views, Comments, Opinions, Contributions and Statements made by Readers and Contributors on this platform do not necessarily represent the views or policy of Multimedia Group Limited.
Source: myjoyonline.com
