Reaching for Respectability (Part 2)
The Letter of the Law
“ማንኛውም አባል የምክር ቤቱን ክብር እና ሞገስ የጠበቀ አለባበስ ሊኖረው ይገባል።"
አንቀጽ 20(1)
So, let's start with ክብር.
Any Amharic speaker will tell you that we normally use ክብር to communicate the sense of honor and respect we feel for someone. Which is why you will usually find this word being associated with words like መክበር, መግነን or ማዐረግ.
No surprises there right?
But ክብር is also associated with phrases that are linked to social privilege, economic status and the perception of having these much-desired traits. Whether you are referring to ተሰማ ሀብተ ሚካኤል’s የአማርኛ መዝገበ ቃላት or ደስታ ተክለ ወልድ’s ዐዲስ ያማርኛ መዝገበ ቃላት, you will quickly realize that ክብር is also defined as:
“ከድህነት የራቀ፣ ከውርደት የራቀ፣ ከኹሉ በላይ የሆነ፣ ከኹሉ በላይ ሆኖ መታየት”
Similarly, ሞገስ is a word that is used to communicate a sense of majesty, elegance and grace. But this word also shares ክብር’s connotation of social prestige and economic privilege. Which is why those individuals or institutions that are associated with ሞገስ are, according to these dictionaries, to be admired, respected and, in some instances, feared.
So, what are we to make of these definitions? How are we to understand these parliamentary standards of ክብር and ሞገስ? Have these words always been tied to social class, economic privilege and the appearance of prestige?
Well, let's put down our dictionaries and look to the literature of the past.
Our Living Law
Now I will not bore you with a long list of Ethiopian books that have discussed ክብር and ሞገስ from the perspective of social hierarchy. You can find that list in our catalogue. But rest assured that this is not an overlooked topic in Ethiopian literature.
You will find plenty of authors providing a clear and strong critique of who is considered to be respectable and honorable in Ethiopian society and who is not. And for every example of our more discriminatory and elitist tendencies, you will find some of Ethiopia’s finest authors challenging the excessive social benefits that are afforded to those that have climbed our social hierarchy.
But in this equation of social mobility, economic status and the performance of respectability, appearances have always counted for something. There has always been a deep link between being respectable and presenting as someone that is deserving of respect.
We have already seen this link in the dictionary definitions of ክብር and ሞገስ (“ከኹሉ በላይ ሆኖ መታየት”). But you will also find this link being explored and critiqued in Ethiopian literature. Particularly in ከበደ ሚካኤል’s “የፈላስፎች ንግግር”, ፊታውራሪ ተክለ ሐዋርያት ተክለ ማርያም’s “የሕይወቴ ታሪክ (ኦቶ ባዮግራፊ)”, አቢይ አበበ’s “አውቀን እንታረም”, ዳኛቸው ወርቁ’s “አደፍርስ” and በዓሉ ግርማ’s “ደራሲው”.
However, if you are still not convinced of our culture’s tendency to associate ክብር and ሞገስ with social hierarchy, I urge you to pick up ደስታ ተክለ ወልድ’s dictionary one last time. I ask that you look up a phrase that is routinely used to compliment someone’s graceful appearance. Especially when they are wearing a suit.
“ግርማ ሞገስ: በደረታቸውና በክንዳቸው የሚያንጠለጥሉት በንጉሥ ዘንድ መወደድን ፤ በሕዝብ በኩል መፈራትን የሚሰጥ ያስማት ክታብ”
And it is when you read this definition that you begin to fully appreciate the relationship between the words used in parliament’s ሥነ ምግባር ደንብ and our social norms. Especially when it comes to the performance of one’s social status, the appearance of respectability and the suit.
You begin to appreciate that words like ክብር, ሞገስ and ግርማ ሞገስ have never been separated from prestige and the display of status.
And it is when you understand this social context that you also begin to understand our parliament’s contradictions. Especially when it comes to what our conservative parliamentarians say about Ethiopian culture and what they wear.
You will realize that, regardless of their culturally accommodative ሥነ ምግባር ደንብ, they will not live up to their conservative ideals. They will never wear their cultural attire on a regular basis.
Instead, you will see them treating it as a celebratory costume; a relic that has to be worn by some, only sometimes.
And in their haste to judge others for supposedly diluting Ethiopian culture, they have forgotten to look in the mirror. They have failed to appreciate just how quickly they have thrown out their cultural conservativism for the chance of being seen as someone of authority; someone of importance; someone worthy of respect.
As one very powerful parliamentarian put it:
“ዝም ብሎ ባለሥልጣን፤ ዝም ብሎ ሱፍ ለባሽ። ከናንተ መካከል ስንቱ ሰው ነው የኋላ በር እያስከፈተ መኪና ውስጥ የሚቀመጥ? መጥፎ culture ነው። በሱፍ ምክንያት (የመኪና በር) ካልተከፈተ የማይወጡ የማይወርዱ በቃ የተከበሩ ያስከበሩ (ይመስላቸዋል) ። Forget it! ሰው ሁን አንተ። ሰው ሁን እና ስራ። ምንድነው ጭንቀቱ? (ተወጥረህ) ልትሞት እኮ ነው። ምን ያሰቃየሃል በሱፍ ውስጥ?”
ጠቅላይ ሚኒስትር ዶ/ር አብይ አህመድ
A Moment of Reflection
So I ask you, my dear reader, what would you wear to look your best? What would you put on to be taken seriously? Would you wear your cultural attire or would you join most of your fellow Ethiopians, from past and present, and wear a suit to see a king?
I, of course, would not blame you. I understand the power of first impressions in Ethiopia just as much as I understand our collective obsession with judging a book by its cover. So no. I will not ask you to risk your professional image or your social standing for the sake of cultural expression.
You should wear whatever you want to wear.
But I will ask you to reflect on this hierarchical society we call home.
Look at how much is asked of you just to be seen as someone deserving of ክብር. Look at how much of our self-image and our social standing is tied to these external markers of success.
Look at how you, just as much as the rest of us, have taken to the habit of confusing respectability with self-worth and success with social validation and being revered by others.
We have all become so desensitized to this way of thinking that we no longer consider the chemise and cravate as being foreign to us. Even though we still do not have Ethiopian words for these articles of clothing.
Instead, we have appropriated them completely into our lives. From the dress codes in our schools, our workplaces, our social gatherings or even our parliament, we have accepted them with open arms and use them as yet another metric in which to measure each other’s worth.
So no, I will not blame you for merely trying to look the part of someone worthy of respect. The consequences of not doing so are not to be taken lightly in a society like ours.
But I will ask you to not rationalize it.
I hope that those of you who do not subscribe to our hierarchical values merely adhere to these dress codes and not internalize them.
Never forget that your dignity is not tied to your necktie. Never forget that you do not have to be seen as ከድህነት የራቀ፣ ከውርደት የራቀ and ከኹሉ በላይ የሆነ to be worthy of respect. And always keep in mind that:
“ልብስና ጌጥ የሰው ማንነት መለኪያ አይደለም። የስሜት ነጸብራቅ ነው።”
በዓሉ ግርማ
The Price of Always Reaching
But for those parents, influencers, employers and parliamentarians who preach cultural purity whilst idolizing a good-looking suit, I hope you understand what you have lost. I hope you realize that somewhere in your incessant need to gain recognition, you have lost your way. You have abandoned your own convictions for the sake of appearances.
And as much as you would like to think that you are proud of your culture, your actions prove otherwise. Your subservience to first impressions and the optics of respectability have reduced you.
You have forgotten your principles. You have relegated a long and proud tradition of cultural expression to a mere costume; a relic that you think should be worn by some, only sometimes.
But instead of facing up to what you have become, you get defensive and assign blame. You argue that the suit, chemise and cravate are not foreign. You claim that they are universal; that they should not be subjected to some cultural test.
You then argue, with your head held high, that the main culprits of cultural erosion are today’s youth. You assume that they look down on their culture. You judge them for not knowing enough about their traditions. You subject them to every culture test in the book and then you try to control them.
But have you ever stopped and asked yourself, which is worse? Trying different styles for the sake of expressing yourself or abandoning your own culture for the sake of appearing respectable?
So the next time you start one of your lectures about cultural purity, ask yourself these questions:
Do you think there is a price for always reaching for respectability? What is the cost of abandoning your deeply held convictions for the sake of keeping up appearances? Do you achieve what you have been reaching for? Or will you, like many others that have come before you, fall from grace?
I will let someone you respect answer these questions for you:
“ባለም ላይ ተሰርቶ በብዙ ጥበብ፤ ማዕርግ የሚባለው የደረጃ ግንብ። በዚህ በሚያዳግት ባቀበት መንገድ፤ ግማሹ ሲወጣ ግማሹ ሲወርድ። ከወደ ዳር ቆሞ ማስተዋሉን ሳይተው፤ ምንኛ ደስ ይላል ለተመለከተው።”
ከበደ ሚካኤል
For More on the Resources Used for This Work, Visit Gudu’s Catalogue by Clicking Here.