In the African context, legacy is more than what a leader accomplishes while in office. Legacy is what remains after the leader has left the stage—the institutions created, the values established, the political culture cultivated, and the example left for generations to follow.
By Emmanuel Yartoe, contributing writer
In Africa, where leadership is often measured not only by policies but by the impact a leader has on society, a true legacy should answer a simple question: Did the leader leave the country better positioned for the next generation, or did he or she create problems that future generations will have to spend decades fixing?
There are many opinions about the legacy of Liberia’s former president, Madam Ellen Johnson Sirleaf. One recent opinion, attributed to Miatta Fahnbulleh, characterized Sirleaf’s legacy as having “forced” George Weah on the Liberian people.
With respect, I believe that argument misses the larger point.
The First Legacy: A Woman Who Broke the Ceiling
Let us begin with what history cannot take away from Madam Sirleaf.
She was the first woman elected president of an African country. That achievement was historic.
For millions of African women and girls, her election sent a powerful message: the highest political office on the continent was no longer exclusively the domain of men.
Her journey demonstrated that education, perseverance, political courage and hard work could open doors that had historically been closed to women.
That is a legacy worth recognizing.
She gave African women something that cannot be measured in dollars: a belief in possibility.
A young African girl could look at the presidency of Liberia and say, “If she can do it, perhaps I can do it too.”
That part of Madam Sirleaf’s legacy should never be diminished.
But there is another legacy—the political legacy—that deserves a much more difficult examination.
Did Madam Sirleaf Force George Weah on Liberia?
I don’t believe so.
George Weah’s political popularity did not begin in 2017.
In 2005, Weah demonstrated that he was already the most popular political figure among the presidential contestants. He came remarkably close to winning the presidency despite being a political newcomer.
It took an election runoff and a highly contested political environment for Madam Sirleaf to emerge victorious.
By 2017, however, Liberia had changed.
The Liberian people had largely settled on the idea that George Weah’s time had come.
No amount of political maneuvering could have easily dissuaded the electorate from electing him.
Madam Sirleaf, meanwhile, appeared to play the familiar role of an African political godmother. She did not publicly endorse a candidate, but her political influence was unmistakable. Money and political favors appeared to flow in multiple directions as various political interests sought to position themselves for the post-Sirleaf era.
That political ambiguity was, in my view, one of the great disappointments of her presidency.
Her refusal to clearly stand behind a political successor did not protect Liberia from bad choices. It helped leave Liberia with them.
The Madam’s Other Legacy
There are two things, in particular, that I believe will be recorded in Liberia’s history long after Madam Sirleaf is gone.
Historians may debate the statistics surrounding economic growth, infrastructure, debt relief and Liberia’s recovery from the devastation of Charles Taylor’s war.
But political and social consequences can be more enduring than economic statistics.
1. The Creation of a Culture of Political Self-Interest
I believe Madam Sirleaf presided over the emergence of a legislature in which corruption, political opportunism and personal enrichment became increasingly normalized.
Patriotism and public service were pushed aside by a culture in which elected officials too often appeared to view public office as an opportunity for personal gain.
The public interest became secondary to self-interest.
Budgets and laws were passed at astonishing speed—sometimes seemingly faster than spacecraft.
And the problem is not simply the money that may have been stolen or misappropriated.
The greater damage is the destruction of public trust.
Once citizens begin to believe that lawmakers are primarily interested in themselves, the legitimacy of government begins to erode.
Once politicians discover that elections can be won through money, patronage and personal benefits rather than ideas, institutions become commodities.
And once that culture becomes entrenched, removing it is extraordinarily difficult.
Undoing the political damage may take generations—and perhaps a near-perfect succession of leaders committed to rebuilding public trust.
That, more than any single economic statistic, may be one of Madam Sirleaf’s most consequential legacies.
2. The Creation of a “Beggar Society”
The second legacy is social.
Liberia increasingly became a society in which everyone expects something from someone else.
The culture of dependency became pervasive.
Instead of asking, “What can I build?” too many began asking, “What can someone give me?”
This culture has particularly troubling consequences for young people.
Young women, in particular, face enormous economic pressures. Some become trapped in relationships or transactional arrangements because they cannot afford the lifestyle that society increasingly tells them they must have.
The latest phone.
The expensive hair.
The beauty salon.
The December parties.
The appearance of wealth.
The pressure to find someone who can finance a lifestyle becomes greater than the desire to build an independent economic future.
That is not simply a moral issue.
It is an economic issue. It is an education issue. It is a leadership issue.
When a society teaches its young people that consumption is more valuable than production, dependency becomes a way of life.
The Contradiction of Madam Sirleaf’s Legacy
And this is where Madam Sirleaf’s legacy becomes complicated.
On one hand, she told African women:
You can do it.
On the other hand, the political culture that developed under her watch too often told Liberians:
Wait for someone to give you something.
One legacy empowered.
The other created dependency.
One broke a glass ceiling.
The other contributed to a political culture that damaged public confidence in government.
That contradiction deserves honest discussion.
History Should Be Fair
This is not an argument that Madam Ellen Johnson Sirleaf accomplished nothing.
Quite the contrary.
She inherited a Liberia devastated by years of war. She helped restore Liberia’s international standing, attracted international support and brought a measure of stability after years of destruction.
She also left an indelible mark on African history by becoming the first elected female head of state in Africa.
Those achievements are real.
But legacy should not be confused with achievement.
A leader can achieve historic milestones and still leave behind institutions that require repair.
A leader can inspire women across a continent while simultaneously presiding over a political system that damages public trust.
A leader can make history and still leave history with difficult questions.
The Question History Will Ask
The real question is not whether Madam Ellen Johnson Sirleaf was a historic figure.
She was.
The question is:
What kind of Liberia did she leave behind?
Did she leave a Liberia where public officials understood that government was a sacred trust?
Did she leave institutions stronger than she found them?
Did she cultivate a generation of leaders who placed country before self?
Did she leave young Liberians believing that education, entrepreneurship and hard work were the surest paths to prosperity?
Or did she leave behind a political culture where public office became an investment, government became a source of personal wealth, and citizens increasingly looked to politicians as patrons rather than public servants?
Those questions cannot be answered with a single economic indicator or a list of accomplishments.
They must be answered by examining the culture of leadership she helped create.
The Madam’s True Legacy
Madam Ellen Johnson Sirleaf deserves her place in history.
She deserves recognition for becoming the first elected female president of an African nation.
She deserves recognition for showing African women that the highest office in the land was within their reach.
But history must also be honest enough to examine the consequences of her political leadership.
The first legacy is inspirational.
The second is troubling.
And perhaps the greatest tragedy is that the woman who showed Africa that a woman could break one of the continent’s greatest political barriers may also be remembered for helping create a political culture that Liberia will struggle to break for generations.
The ultimate test of any leader is not how loudly supporters praise them while they are in power.
It is what happens to the country after they leave.
That is where legacy begins.
That is where history makes its final judgment.
