The government's flattery of critics should be guided by governmental self-criticism

Paulo Vilanculo"

Governments that do not tolerate open criticism often end up seeking legitimacy precisely from the intellectuals who previously questioned them. It is a kind of internal power diplomacy, where the critic is invited to sit at the table not necessarily to transform the system, but, in certain circumstances, to soften the intensity of their own criticisms. In a country where academic voices, intellectuals, and social analysts frequently denounce inequalities, corruption, political patronage, and social exclusion, the rise of critical academics to prominent government positions inevitably sparks contradictory interpretations. For some, it is a recognition of Hélder Jauana's "technical and intellectual competence." For others, it is yet another episode of the "strategic absorption" of inconvenient voices by the state apparatus. Mozambican society is thus witnessing a silent test. Will the government be able to accept, within its institutions, the same intellectual frankness that it seems to admire outside of them? Does the Mozambican state truly seek to incorporate critical thinking to improve governance, or does it merely select figures whose criticism is politically manageable? Are we facing yet another cycle where the system accommodates critics to neutralize public discomfort with their ideas? Will Hélder Jauana be able to maintain the critical lucidity that characterized him in academia?

 

Mozambique possesses highly recognized academic and philosophical intellectuals, such as Severino Ngoenha, João Carlos Trindade, Carlos Serra, Elísio Macamo, José Castiano, among others, whose reflections for decades have addressed central themes such as public ethics, democracy, citizenship, state crisis, corruption, symbolic violence, social exclusion, and institutional fragility. However, many of these thinkers have often remained distant from the strategic centers of political decision-making, despite the intellectual depth of their contributions. The creation of ANDITUR (National Association of Tourism Information and Services) arises in a context where Mozambique seeks to diversify its economy and revitalize the tourism sector, severely affected by social instability, insecurity, precariousness, and weak international promotion of the country. In this sense, the choice of an academic could symbolize an attempt to confer technical credibility to the new institution. However, the risk of transforming specialists into mere instruments of political legitimation remains real.

The recent appointment of sociologist and university professor Hélder Jauana by the Council of Ministers to the position of Chairman of the Board of Directors of the newly created National Agency for Tourism Development and Investment (ANDITUR) is not merely an administrative act. It is also a political gesture laden with symbolism, ambiguities, and anxieties inherent to a political system that has historically oscillated between hostility and seduction of its critics. Intellectuals who were once combative have become public managers, ministers, presidential advisors, or heads of state institutions. In some cases, they have contributed positively to reforms. In others, they have been absorbed by bureaucratic logic and institutional silence. But the challenge should never lie solely in the appointment itself, but rather in the capacity to preserve moral and intellectual independence after entering the corridors of power. It is not enough to invite intellectuals to public office while chronic problems such as youth unemployment, economic exclusion, partisan dependence of institutions, subtle persecution of dissenting voices, and the fragility of public policies persist. The true political maturity of a government is not measured solely by its ability to integrate critics, but above all by its willingness to correct the errors pointed out by those same critics. One of the most delicate aspects that reinforces the thesis of "selective flattery" of power in relation to critics lies precisely in the unequal way in which the Mozambican state deals with public intellectuals.

However, deeper reflection may not only concern Hélder Jauana, but the government itself. The issue seems to be not merely academic competence or technical ability, but above all the type of political interpretation the system makes of the criticism produced by certain thinkers. In this context, the tacit marginalization of certain more independent intellectuals may reveal that the problem lies not in criticism itself, but in the level of discomfort it provokes within the system. Intellectuals such as Severino Ngoenha or Elísio Macamo, among others, for example, construct discourses that frequently go beyond superficial criticism of governance and delve into structural dimensions of the very functioning of the State, political culture, and the contradictions of the ruling elite. These are reflections that demand not only political tolerance, but also the courage for institutional transformation. The State appears to value intellectuals, but often does not demonstrate a true institutional culture of critical listening. The form of the criticism is heard, but the profound content of its implications is avoided. The problem then ceases to be epistemological and becomes political. Ultimately, there remains a feeling that certain governments prefer decorative intellectuals to transformative intellectuals. They prefer voices that legitimize institutional stability to consciences that demand profound reforms. And when this happens, critical thinking risks being converted into an instrument of political ornamentation, instead of an ethical engine of governance.

When a state begins to "flatter" its critics, it must also have the courage to self-criticize. This is precisely the great dilemma of fragile democracies: confusing the integration of critics with a true openness to critical thinking. Because integrating individuals does not necessarily mean integrating ideas. In a truly democratic state, the critic should not only be valued when they accept integration into the system. They should be equally respected when they remain outside of it, exercising the right to think, disagree, and question. Because governments that flatter critics merely to embellish their institutional image end up revealing political insecurity. And insecure governments rarely manage to reform themselves profoundly. A government committed to institutional self-correction approaches criticism to reform practices, correct errors, and strengthen public policies. A government driven by the logic of political legitimation, however, tends to choose specific critics not necessarily for the depth of their ideas, but for the symbolic utility of their institutional presence. Therefore, the core of "flattery" may lie precisely there: power does not necessarily value criticism as a philosophical instrument of national reconstruction, but rather as a controllable element of democratic legitimacy.

Criticism becomes useful when it helps convey an image of openness, pluralism, and governmental intelligence. However, when criticism threatens the moral and structural foundations of the system, it tends to be ignored, marginalized, or treated with silent discomfort. Perhaps this is the greatest challenge of contemporary Mozambican governance: understanding that criticism is not the enemy of the State. On the contrary, it can be its most important mechanism for self-correction. A government that learns to listen to critics without trying to domesticate them comes closer to democratic maturity. A government that only incorporates them to silence tensions risks transforming critical intelligence into political decoration. It must recognize that many of the problems denounced by academics are not rhetorical inventions, but real symptoms of a structural crisis of governance. In the end, the appointment of Hélder Jauana may represent both an opportunity for institutional renewal and a reflection of the contradictions of power itself. But one thing remains evident: before flattering critics, the Government must learn to self-criticize.

 

2025/12/3