Permission to err?

Published : 15 March 2011, 01:27 PM
Updated : 15 March 2011, 01:27 PM

In the wilderness of the icy Adirondacks, the creek is rising. Every two hours I bundle up and walk the half-kilometre driveway and check the water level. We are vacationing at the shared family getaway, a place without distractions like internet and cellphone reception. At the rate the river is rising, we have twenty hours before our car is stranded on this side of the stream, and we're unable to return to school, to work, to life.

This house is a convenient stop on our way to deliver our older daughter back to the frozen wastelands of Vermont. We cannot risk being isolated. And yet, I hesitate to turn the car around and head back across the bridge. Four hours of shovelling and spinning tires has allowed me to gain purchase in this porridge of ice, gravel and mud. Twice, with the car in drive, I've slipped backwards down the hill and nearly drowned the family van in the creek. What do I profit from climbing the hill? Nothing more than the accolades of my family. Hours ago, they'd already trudged the groceries and belongings to the house on foot.

I am not ashamed of my foolish persistence. No work is ever wasted in the universe. When I finally make it to the house, I am drenched, and my clothing is frozen stiff. My hair, where it's been drenched by freezing rain, hangs in icicles. But I've accomplished my goal. For that, I deserve praise.

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The striving for success, simply for the sake of succeeding is a very typically American enterprise. It is born of a culture where risk-taking is a safe proposition. The mindset that one misstep could mean disaster is centuries from our reality.

Americans celebrate the hero that tries and fails a hundred times and persistence rewards on effort one hundred and one. As a result, when success finally comes, we do not examine it too closely. We do not burst the success bubble. We rarely shoot ourselves in the foot.

This is why I can't stand to see people I care about shoot themselves in the foot.

This is why I've been wincing at the news coming out of a nation of which I am such a fan.

When you search for mentions in the world press of positive events in Bangladesh, you will find two prominent entries: Muhammad Yunus' winning of the Nobel Prize, and the World Cup.

Then came the shots to the foot.

So, I want to offer the American perspective on two events, the recent rock-throwing incident at the World Cup match against The West Indies, and the affair which has come to be known as "Yunusgate".

Before I begin, I want to distance myself from the clueless pedantry of American diplomats, especially when it comes to developing world. I feel like smacking that sanctimonious Robert O. Blake, the Undersecretary who officially reacted to Yunusgate, upside the head. In no aspect of its official life does America more reflect the dangers of what Nirvana called "Anemic Royalty", Frenchified inbreeding and the cluelessness of privilege than in US Diplomatic Corps. As usual, the official American reaction is a source of embarrassment for the average American who pays attention to such things. No nation has the right to interfere in the peaceable affairs of others and the remarks of Robert O Blake stating that the US was "Troubled" over the removal of Yunus was typically patronising.

We Americans are far too forgiving when it comes to our bankers. We allow the banking sector unlimited access to taxpayer money and offer no oversight even in the wake of criminal mismanagement. It seems that it would be best if we held our tongue when it comes to speaking to the issue of "troubling" government oversight of the banking industry.

People who live outside glass houses shouldn't throw stones either. In fact, NO ONE should throw stones anywhere, no matter where they live (especially at West Indians).

If I had been the foreign minister of Bangladesh I would have had some choice words about the troubling nature of American banking policies. As usual, the response from Bangladesh was polite and measured.

On the other hand, Bangladeshis seem to be especially brutal towards their own nationals who dare to exhibit an imperfection. In such an environment, the cost of risk-taking is never worth the payoff.

To this concerned outsider, the arguments about whether the treatment of Yunus is politically motivated, as the world press believes, is not as important as the message it sends to any Bangladeshi with a big idea and the guts, talent and resources to implement such an idea. Yunus' treatment teaches such people that such efforts aren't worth the risk.

Big ideas always spit in the face of regulation. They often bulldoze the petty bureaucrats and politicians in their path. When judging visionaries, we must examine the intentions, encourage experimentation and foster a healthy disdain for red tape. Statesmanship is the art of providing a fertile field for the triumph of any individual who would lift a nation to greatness. This sometimes includes overlooking the flaws of those whose efforts have lifted a nation. Among our own pantheon of heroes, we have slaveholders like Thomas Jefferson and George Washington, womanisers like Franklin and … well, pretty much everyone else (besides John Adams).

We've had Indian killers and neglectful parents, but as we rose as a nation, before partisan politics, we understood that inspiring greatness was in the best interest of a growing nation, and all sides did everything in their power to protect the reputation of those who risked failure to make the strides that would elevate the nation. Personally, I am not a big fan of microcredit, or any credit for that matter, but what do I know? What I understand is this: Perfection is the enemy of completion. Bangladesh requires a Polyanna in the government as it keeps moving forward.

The removal of Yunus does not send a wave of confidence throughout the world to potential investors. It is bad PR in a nation that the worlds press seems to have neglected. Ultimately, I'm not suggesting Bangladesh should practice California-style justice. Wealth and celebrity should never trump guilt anywhere. However, if Justice is peeking out from under her blindfold to begin with, she might try to balance the benefits of zealous regulation versus driving away potential investors, or worse still, discouraging other Bangladeshis from following Yunus' imperfect, but successful example of attempting to uplift his people despite his shortcomings. If the message is we all have to be perfect before we can help our fellow man, then I might as well stop writing now because this sentence and the one before it are way too long, I tend to ramble, and how many times am I going to use the word Frenchified to describe a diplomat, like I did a couple of paragraphs back (and in at least two other articles)?

My fear, from an American perspective is that Mr. Bigpocket, CEO of Garment Retailers Unlimited, will glance at the news from Bangladesh and say, "Oh, so in Bangladesh, the government in power is the type that will say, 'Deal with my party, or we'll plant roadblocks." I'm not saying it's the truth. I'm just saying it will be the perception of the truth that ultimately damages Bangladesh's ability to attract business.

My deeper fear, from a perspective of a well-wisher and an admirer is this: How willing will anyone in Bangladesh be motivated to step onto that bus to greatness knowing that it will be pelted with stones if he falls short even once?

Somehow, I have become emotionally and spiritually invested in the fate of Bangladesh. Your triumphs and tragedies have found a direct route to my heart. I can read the news about the earthquake in Japan and pray for the people and lament the tragedy, and yet not shed a single tear. But I read your history, and events like the famine in 1974 have voices that speak to me, have eyes that look at me, they keep me up at night, they move me to tears.

If your government needs to point a finger, how about pointing it at foreigners who, in 1974, withheld food to force Bangladesh to stop prosecution of Pakistani war criminals, or exploited the tragedy to enforce the trade embargo against Cuba? I wonder if Undersecretary Robert O. Blake would have found such actions equally "troubling" had they not been perpetuated by the very nation he represents. One million dead, schoolchildren, holy men, mothers-in-law, poor farmers with big dreams, beloved sons and daughters, poets, wise men, dreamers, people that had we known, we might have called friends, one million starved to death and for what? So that Cuba would be forced to tie their sugar cane with sisal instead of jute, so that alleged rapists and murderers did not have to stand trial?

If I were Bangladeshi, would I beg, would I steal, would I swindle every nation on earth to assure that such suffering didn't happen again? In a heartbeat! But Muhammad Yunus did not steal, beg or swindle. In his zeal to help people feed themselves, he tripped over some red tape, and the nation he attempted to uplift provided no safety net.

Despite the horrifying flaws of our history, I am proud to call myself an American, and like so many of my countrymen, I would willingly lay down my life to defend our Constitution, written by flawed men who recognised that the most flawed institution of all is Government and so wrote a constitution designed to protect the people from the potential abuses of power. And I rejoice that as I strive to make my flawed contributions to my community, state and nation, I fear no retribution.

And speaking of retribution — I am confident that by the time this is published, there will be mad celebrations in the streets as Bangladesh defeats South Africa. Whatever the outcome, I beg you to consider that not only are the eyes of the world upon you, but also that somewhere out there is a shy, young Bengali cricket genius who might be dissuaded from ever representing his country because he has witnessed the consequences of falling short of victory.

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At the end of our vacation, I was forced to drive the car back to the main road, which meant we would have an even longer walk to reload the vehicle. As we pulled out, the tires got stuck once again, thirty meters from the pavement. Extracting the car this time took all six of us, and cost us forty-five minutes of our travel time. When we finally made it to the asphalt, I discovered that I had left the parking brake on! Had I simply released the brake, we would have been clear in fifteen seconds. We laughed at my foolishness, but ultimately, we acknowledged the experience as a triumph and celebrated our victory, imperfect as it was. Once again, we had set the tone to celebrate all the small, imperfect triumphs that give us the confidence to make our striving worth the possibility of failure.

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Frank Domenico Cipriani writes a weekly column in the Riverside Signal called "You Think What You Think And I'll Think What I Know." He is also the founder and CEO of The Gatherer Institute — a not-for-profit public charity dedicated to promoting respect for the environment and empowering individuals to become self-taught and self-sufficient. His most recent book, "Learning Little Hawk's Way of Storytelling", is scheduled to be released by Findhorn Press in May of 2011.