Leaders and Leadership
Leaders and Leadership
Abstract and Keywords
This chapter turns to the role of leaders and leadership in driving change. Though these roles are often downplayed or outright neglected in academia, the chapter argues that leadership is central to any understanding of how change happens. ‘Leaders’ in this case are not limited to politicians only—the chapter also examines leadership from below—that which emerges from citizens’ movements, voluntary associations, trade unions, faith organizations, and indeed in every walk of life. Leaders operate at the interface between structure and agency, striving to leave their mark on the institutions, cultures, and traditions in which they live and work. Activists need to understand where leadership comes from and how to best identify, support, and work with progressive leaders.
Men make their own history, but they do not make it as they please; they do not make it under self-selected circumstances, but under circumstances existing already, given and transmitted from the past. The tradition of all dead generations weighs like a nightmare on the brains of the living Karl Marx1
Joseph Sungi MP is known throughout Papua New Guinea’s remote Nuku district simply as ‘the Member’. He is a Big Man in every sense, oozing authority and confidence, his bull neck and large frame squeezed into a dapper pin-striped suit. Joe is a man on a mission, and that mission is roads. Using the discretionary funds at every MP’s disposal, he plans to build all-weather roads to every one of Nuku’s eighty-four wards by the next election in 2017.
‘When we went home for Christmas we had to walk the last seven kilometres to get to our villages. Our kids don’t want to go back home any more. In my village I said, this is the last time I walk here—next time I’ll be in a car. So I made sure the road was built, to show I am a man of my word. Then the people are convinced.’2
Travelling with Joe’s team in Nuku, I saw plenty of evidence that his obsession is bearing fruit. The district has bought thirteen shiny yellow pieces of earth moving equipment and hired a civil engineer; work is under way.
Joe has tapped a nerve. Everyone I spoke with, from government officials to church and women’s groups at ward level, is enthusiastic: roads allow farmers to get their cocoa to market, reduce the costs of (p.197) resupplying schools and clinics, help retain teachers and nurses reluctant to work in isolated locations. Of course, roads are no panacea. Women and church leaders worry about negative influences, such as drugs and disobedience, which they blame on the improved links. Women farmers say they can now get their crops to Nuku’s main town, but find no buyers and end up bringing them home again.
Joe’s other priority is even more ground breaking. He has handed a large wad of local funding directly over to the wards, US$10,000 each, to spend as they please. In Papua New Guinea this is revolutionary—the Big Man is handing over money even to villages that didn’t vote for him. More traditional spending patterns are on display in the yard of the district administrator’s office, where four land cruisers are parked, the first instalment of some twenty vehicles the previous MP allegedly handed out to his cronies, which are now being confiscated.
Like a giant magnet surrounding by iron filings, Joe’s leadership seems to have built a sense of optimism and common purpose. At every level of society, from the village committee or women’s savings group to great nation builders, leaders reinforce group identity and cohesion, and mobilize collective effort toward shared goals. Successful leaders know how to inspire and motivate, and they intuitively understand that to turn a vision and a mobilized following into a transformational force they, as leaders, must retain that difficult-to-define quality known as legitimacy.3
Of course leadership comes in many styles. Some leaders oppress, others empower. Some are driven by greed, others by a passion for social justice. When I talk to leaders, especially the more charismatic variety, I am always torn between fascination and suspicion that their fine words are just camouflage for corruption, arrogance, or deceit. This chapter looks at the progressive leaders, who are to be found at all levels of society and in all countries.
(p.198) The shelves of airport bookshops groan under the weight of homages to corporate titans, promising to distil the secrets of leadership and success for the rest of us. And the subject fascinated great thinkers of the more distant past, who analysed the use of violence, the role of luck, and whether it is better to be loved or feared.4 Plato and Machiavelli lined up behind political expertise and the concentration of power; Aristotle, Cicero, and Montesquieu argued for constitutional limits on leaders’ power. Beyond the Western bubble, few thinkers placed such unreserved confidence in leadership as Confucius, who saw it as the originating and sustaining force behind good politics: ‘Let there be the proper men and their good political order will flourish; but without such men, their political order decays and ceases.’5
Activists and academics, however, tend to downplay the role of leaders and leadership in driving change. Development studies as a discipline has little to say about the Big Man in the presidential palace, and even less about leadership from below—that which emerges in citizens’ movements, voluntary associations, trade unions, faith organizations, and indeed in every walk of life.
Ideological bias may lie behind the academy’s neglect of leadership. Marxists (and, more generally, positivists and structuralists) think in terms of masses and institutions, rather than individuals. Socialist historians like E.P. Thompson proposed a ‘history from below’,6 in which leaders who strut the stage, claiming to be making history, are in reality mere flotsam on a sea of political, technological, economic, and social change that makes or destroys them.
At the other extreme are rational choice thinkers such as Gary Becker, who see society and the economy as a set of ‘utility-maximizing (p.199) individuals’ with little need for leaders (or followers). Progressives uncomfortable with the elitism of a Big Man theory of human history that excludes all women and most male followers fall somewhere in between. Aid technocrats avoid discussions of leadership, because it rapidly gets political and clouds the seductive purity of ‘evidence-based policy making’ and ‘technical assistance’.
That seems like a serious oversight. Over the years, I’ve been lucky enough to spend time with hundreds of leaders in dozens of countries, from ministers and senior officials to grassroots activists who galvanize their communities to work for the common good and take great risks holding corrupt officials or companies to account.
I have come to believe that leadership is central to any understanding of how change happens. Leaders operate at the interface between structure and agency, striving to leave their mark on the institutions, cultures, and traditions in which they live and work. Activists need to understand where leadership comes from and how we can best identify, support, and work with progressive leaders.
This is not just about politicians. Anyone who has worked in organizations (i.e. most of us) will have seen the critical role of leadership (or lack of it). Leadership styles vary—I have worked under ‘bull-in-a-china shop’ bosses trying to force their will on reluctant organizations, charismatic visionaries who inspire and motivate but leave the detail to others, and subtle backseat drivers who drip ideas steadily into the corporate bloodstream without ever taking credit. They may not be great managers (lots of them need a ‘finisher’ as their number two), but good leaders align the iron filings, just like Joe Sungi did, replacing the natural tendency of organizations to fragment into competing groups with a shared purpose and passion and building up alliances and coalitions for change.
A power and systems approach poses some important challenges for leadership. The bull-in-a-china shop school are usually more comfortable with command and control, than with emergent change and empowering mavericks. But both charismatic visionaries and backseat drivers can create the space needed for their organizations (p.200) to ‘dance with systems’. If leadership is identifying the ‘what’, management is about establishing the ‘how’—we look at the challenges of a power and systems approach for the management of activist organizations in Chapter 12.
Understanding leadership at the top
Joe Sungi is no revolutionary. He is a ‘transactional leader’ trying to make the system work for his constituents, and in Papua New Guinea that is an uphill task. More than a decade of continuous high growth has raised per capita GDP by 150 per cent, yet Papua New Guinea has not achieved a single one of the Millennium Development Goals (MDGs). It shares that dubious distinction only with Zimbabwe and North Korea (the MDGs that is, not the growth); in terms of turning growth into development, Papua New Guinea is a strong candidate for the world’s worst underachiever. At the heart of that failure, I’d argue, stands politics: most of Papua New Guinea’s Big Men are more concerned with strengthening their own power and fortune than with building roads or other essential public goods.
Some leaders have managed to be more transformational than transactional. Nelson Mandela in South Africa, Gandhi in India, Martin Luther King in the US, or Julius Nyerere in Tanzania all emerged at critical junctures in history—moments of abrupt change, crisis, or external threat—and they seized the opportunity to alter the balance of power in their societies. When structural constraints to action are weakened, great leaders can help remake societies, rather than simply make them work a bit better.
Even in the absence of crisis, leaders in developing countries often have more potential to transform society. Where institutions are relatively weak, force of will and personality can help build national culture, laws, and political institutions, including the checks and balances on the power of future leaders. Perhaps that is why early leaders like Bismarck, Washington, Lee Kuan Yew, Ataturk, or Mandela often achieve mythic status as the founders of the nation. (p.201) Even the best of those that follow are hemmed in by compromises, institutions, and rules, and, through no fault of their own, may look like puny pen-pushers by comparison.
But that relative absence of constraints also increases the potential for damage. Some leaders enter power with the best of intentions, but cling on long after their sell-by date. In 2015 when Barack Obama told African Union that, ‘Nobody should be president for life’,7 the public gallery reportedly erupted in cheers, while the front rows maintained a stony silence. At the time nine African leaders (and one monarch) had ruled for more than twenty years. (And yes, NGOs can suffer from the same syndrome.)
If strong institutions are an indicator of development, then the success of a leader can be measured by the institutional legacy he or she leaves. Effective leaders breathe life into institutions; ineffective leaders destroy or stifle them. I began writing this chapter the week a truly transformative political leader died, Singapore’s Lee Kuan Yew, and the obit pages were filled with praise for his achievements (albeit laced with criticism for his record on human rights). The Economist glowed: ‘A tribute to Mr Lee’s nation-building was the absence of any flicker from the stock market on news of his death.…[T]hanks largely to Mr Lee, Singapore’s institutions are strong, its governance honest, effective—and dull.’8
An article in the same edition entitled ‘King Paul’9 presented a contrasting portrait of one of Africa’s most celebrated contemporary leaders, Paul Kagame, the Rwandan president: ‘In history’s judgment, leaders are only as good as the successors they groom. Mr Kagame has sacked or chased away just about everyone around him who could (p.202) take over. Some have fled the country and a few have died in mysterious circumstances; others went to prison.’
What makes a leader?
There are many pathways to leadership, and those pathways form some noticeable patterns. One explanation for the differences between Lee and Kagame may lie in how they came to power. Kagame, as a former rebel commander, introduced the top-down disciplines of military authority, along with its rejection of dissidence and pluralism. That path was shared by Ethiopia’s Meles Zenawi, Cuba’s Fidel Castro, and China’s Mao Tse Tung. Lee Kuan Yew, on the other hand, was a lawyer who led Singapore’s non-violent independence movement. A similar case was José Figueres, the coffee farmer who led Costa Rica’s 1948 revolution that abolished the army and set the country on a democratic path. The military men were willing to use brute force to stay in control and achieve the changes they sought, while the civilians preferred the law and institutions.
The Developmental Leadership Program (DLP)10 (through which the research for this book was funded) has examined the backgrounds of leaders from a variety of countries and found that education was instrumental in allowing them to stretch their loyalties beyond family, region, class, or ethnicity.11 In-depth interviews with leaders of Ghana’s transformation since the late 1980s revealed three common elements they learned in school: core values of moral purpose and commitment to serving the nation; ways of working such as critical (p.203) thinking and collaboration; and the expertise and knowledge that leaders need if they are to drive change.
Of the Ghanaian leaders who attended secondary school or higher, nearly all of them went to elite institutions that were both relatively meritocratic and residential, bringing together talented children from all backgrounds who then forged values and bonds that would shape their future roles as leaders.
A brilliant DLP paper by Sarah Phillips12 reaches a similar conclusion regarding Somaliland, which split off from the chaos of Somalia in the 1990s. Sheekh Secondary School, set up by Richard Darlington, who in the Second World War commanded the British Army’s Somaliland Protectorate contingent, takes only fifty students a year and trains them in leadership and critical thought (Darlington borrowed from the curriculum of his elite English private school, Harrow). The school stresses student intake from all clans, especially the more marginalized ones. Sheekh has provided three out of four presidents of the new nation, along with numerous vice presidents and cabinet members.
Joe Sungi’s life story echoes these findings. The son of subsistence farmers, well down the clan hierarchy, he was educated at an Australian Catholic mission school, and then a boarding school for the best and brightest kids from around the country. He traces his sense of public ethics to that school. Joe laments that one of the unintended consequences of the spread of secondary education is that kids now go to high school in their own communities, rather than being forced to board with the best and brightest from around his fragmented country. He is urging the government to consider introducing elite public boarding schools based on the French lycée system to recreate the lost leadership crucible of his youth.
(p.204) These are uncomfortable findings for activists. Advocating for elite boarding schools, even meritocratic ones, smacks of old English colonialism (Ghana, Somaliland, and Papua New Guinea are former British colonies) and feels distinctly regressive compared to getting every child into a primary school. So we had better pin down what aspects of elite education create more capable, publicly-minded leaders, and figure out how those can be incorporated into modern school systems.
The DLP’s findings on education are important, but are only one part of the much wider story of what makes for good leaders. DLP researchers suggest a range of other factors: travel, both internal and international, broadens horizons and builds links with the wider world; religious faith is a common motivating factor; shared experiences of resistance, armed struggle, or suffering bind future leaders together. Finally, some of the most effective leaders, like Nelson Mandela, are traditional authorities with a sense of noblesse oblige.
What do leaders do?
The system delivers for Joe Sungi because he knows how decisions get made in the capital: which tables to bang, which favours to call in. Joe says, ‘The key is you talk to people. I don’t write letters, I do the talking! Most of what I do is informal, I owe it all to informal relationships.’13
Like many leaders, Joe gets things moving, but leaves the finishing to others. One of his key men is Kenny Myeni, a jovial, bearded engineer whom Joe managed to lure from a comfortable job with British American Tobacco to run the road-building programme. Funds are often in short supply laughs Kenny, but ‘the Member knows where the money is. We provide the documentation and the Member does the talking’.14
(p.205) Sungi exemplifies the two-level game that leaders have to play—building bridges among constituencies and driving bargains with those in power—while constantly maintaining and boosting followers’ morale. They must lead but look constantly over their shoulder because, as a Malawian proverb has it, ‘A leader without followers is simply someone taking a walk’.
Indeed, ‘great leaders’ are often created by their followers and by accidents of history; their rise only appears inevitable with hindsight. Churchill was revered by the British during the Second World War, but ridiculed beforehand and unceremoniously dumped at the ballot box once the war was over.
As the quote from Karl Marx at the start of this chapter argues, leaders do not get to do ‘as they please’. The art of leadership lies in finding ways to move forward (or more frequently to inspire others to do so) within the circumstances of the moment, in other words within the system. They turn the legacy of history from ‘weighing like a nightmare on the brains of the living’ into a force for change.
Leaders understand the role of symbolism in building mass movements, a language parallel to and separate from the policy detail preferred by officials and academics. Rather than confront the British on their own terms, Mahatma Gandhi wrong-footed colonial authorities with small personal acts like collecting salt and spinning cotton on a simple spinning wheel to highlight the search for self-sufficiency and independence. The spinning wheel even appeared on an early version of the Indian flag.15 Mandela too had a talent for the heart-stopping gesture, reaching out to white South Africans by wearing the Springbok rugby shirt or travelling to a remote Afrikaner community to take tea with the ninety-four-year-old widow of Henrik Verwoerd, a key architect of apartheid.16 Both Mandela and Gandhi demonstrated (p.206) that humility and ethical probity can generate more political legitimacy than displays of force or expertise.
Discussions of leaders and leadership customarily fixate on the people at the top—the habits and psychologies of CEOs and presidents, be they saints or sinners. But leaders are everywhere, nowhere more than in the movements for change active in poor communities across the world.
Leadership from below
Penha was an imposing figure, a big confident woman who rose to become president of the Alagoa Grande Rural Workers’ Union in Brazil’s drought-prone and poverty-ridden north east. When I visited her in 1990, Pehna was trying to persuade an impoverished farming community to join the union. Pot-bellied children with skinny arms played at the feet of adults while banter and serious talk rolled easily along. Penha guided the conversation with a blend of authority, humour, and kindness, letting others speak and enjoying their jokes. The impromptu discussion developed into a full-blown community meeting about the causes of poverty in Brazil and the need to organize to demand rights to the land. As dusk fell, the meeting turned to music and dance, in honour of the visitors.17
Later on, she told me her life story, the words half lost in the drumming of a sudden downpour, which turned the street into a river bearing rubbish from the nearby market. A broken home, starting work at age seven, a mother who died from tuberculosis when Penha was twelve, early marriage, and the struggle to feed her six children. To that point it was the story of countless poor Latin American women.
Penha was able to turn her personal courage and determination into leadership thanks to a chance encounter with a charismatic leader (p.207) named Margarida Maria Alves, who first introduced her to the union. When Margarida was murdered, allegedly by local landowners and politicians, Penha took over.18
Like leaders at the top, grassroots leaders are shaped by experiences of travel, struggle, and conflict, and are thrust forward by the historical moment (‘cometh the hour’). In dozens of countries across several continents, I have met grassroots leaders inspired by their faith and equipped with skills by their experiences in choirs or as preachers, both Christian and Muslim. Scripture helped them form a personal narrative about the sources of their deprivation and repression, galvanizing them into action.
Unlike those at the top of society, social movement leaders have little money and few threats with which to control or reward their followers. They rely heavily on their ability to communicate understanding of the lives of others and belief in the value of collective action to address common problems. They foster their followers’ sense of ‘power within’, buttressed by a vision of a better future that justifies taking action, even when to do so at best takes up poor people’s scarce time and energy and at worst puts their lives at risk.
Strengthening community organization is often insufficient to win access to land, funding, or respect. Grassroots leaders must also play the same two-level game as Joe Sungi, building alliances with other organizations and cutting deals with people in positions of power. One of the functions of such leaders is to ‘create space’ for others. Chinese philosopher Lao Tzu put it this way in the sixth century BCE: ‘A leader is best when people barely know that he exists, not so good when people obey and acclaim him, worst when they despise him. But of a good leader, who talks little, when his work is done, his aims fulfilled, they will all say, “We did this ourselves”.’19
(p.208) In the recent protest movements of the Arab Spring, some observers viewed the lack of identifiable leaders as a strength, since none could be co-opted or attacked. If a movement has no head, how can it be beheaded? It seemed somehow more pure and genuinely of the masses to have no leaders instead of a grand personality who achieves celebrity status. But such ‘anti-leadership’ ideas have their limitations.20 When the cycle moves on from protest and conflict to cooperation and reform, someone has to engage with those in power to maximize whatever gains have been won through protest. Headless movements cannot cut deals.
A simple dichotomy between grassroots leaders and those at the top is, of course, misleading. Intermediary organizations and leaders bridge the gap between state and citizens. Effective grassroots leaders are often well connected with those in formal power, especially in countries where national leaders have themselves emerged from grassroots activism, such as South Africa, Brazil, or Bolivia. Mandela was a civil rights lawyer and African National Congress (ANC) activist; the transformational presidents of Brazil and Bolivia (Lula and Evo Morales) started out as trade union and peasant leader, respectively. But for every household name, there are thousands of Penhas, unsung heroes organizing their fellow citizens in the struggle for change.
Women and leadership
Joe Sungi typifies a leadership style—individualistic, confrontational, public (‘I do the talking!’)—which seems quintessentially male. Penha’s approach was altogether more inclusive; she listened as much or more than she spoke. People like her form a growing movement of women leaders around the world, at all levels of society.
(p.209) A study by the Overseas Development Institute identified some common factors in the backgrounds of women leaders, which echo some of Penha’s life story: many are married, have some professional training and work in ‘nurturing’ or community-related occupations like teaching or social work. Many enjoy the psychological and financial support of close family members, as well as the encouragement of role models (women in public office or active in women’s civic movements).21
Srilatha Batliwala draws a distinction between feminine and feminist understandings of leadership.22 A feminine approach to leadership recognizes that women often bring a greater attention to collaboration, collective decision making, and building relationships, characteristics that fall well within the traditional gendered roles of women. In contrast, a feminist approach seeks to transform relations of power, paying close attention to ‘power within’ and ‘power with’, as well as hidden and invisible power.
In many ways, the feminist understanding of leadership seems well suited to the power and systems approach advocated by this book. At the end of a lecture in Washington a few years ago, I was rather disconcerted by my thank-you present—a copy of The End of Men and the Rise of Women by Hanna Rosin.23 Hopefully I’ll be retired and gardening by the time that process is complete.
Leadership, power, and systems
It’s easy to forget that when Nelson Mandela was finally released from prison in the early 1990s, South Africa was teetering on a knife’s edge. (p.210) Fighting between Inkatha and ANC supporters threatened to tip over into civil war; fragile state status beckoned. At one early event, ANC supporters called for Mandela to ‘give us weapons. No peace’.24 Mandela reprimanded his fired-up supporters: ‘Listen to me. I am your leader. I am going to give you leadership. If you are going to kill innocent people, you don’t belong in the ANC.’ What would have happened if he had opted for the populist route and stoked the fires?
Mandela was no King Canute, standing futilely against the tides of history. He was an expert navigator in a complex system, forging personal or political alliances with erstwhile enemies, publicly denouncing attempts to pervert or prevent the transition to black majority rule. He built unity among the different factions of the ANC, and turned it from a protest movement into a dominant ruling party. Like all good leaders, he could ‘see’ how power is distributed and fought over in society, and spot opportunities to seize and shape the tide of events. One can only wonder what would have occurred had Mandela died on Robben Island.
For institutions promoting change, training and supporting local leaders should be an attractive proposition. It is pleasingly tangible and puts a human face on the often amorphous process of development. But few aid agencies invest in individuals. Why not emulate the few schemes, such as the MacArthur Foundation Fellowship, that identify and back outstanding leaders?25 Or offer work experience, internships, or teaching opportunities for students with potential to become tomorrow’s progressive leaders?
Among activists, many of whom have a deep commitment to egalitarianism, words like leadership and leader elicit mixed feelings. Most of us would prefer to build the capacity of organizations rather than invest directly in individuals with high potential. Indeed, even (p.211) talking in terms of high-potential individuals can feel somehow contrary to principles of fairness and equality.
But addressing leadership much more systematically need not imply being seduced by a simplistic Big Man approach to politics. On the contrary, acknowledging and supporting the crucial role leaders play in how change happens is a vital step in amplifying the voices of groups that currently go unheard.
Now that we have looked at both the grassroots citizen activists, and the leaders that inspire them and others at all levels of society, we move on to a subject that involves both of them, and which I have been most involved with over the years: advocacy.
H. Lyne de Ver, ‘Conceptions of Leadership’ (Birmingham: Developmental Leadership Program Background Paper 4, 2009), http://www.dlprog.org.
N. Mandela, Long Walk to Freedom: The Autobiography of Nelson Mandela (London: Little Brown, 1995).
M.A. Melo, N. Ng’ethe, and J. Manor, Against the Odds: Politicians, Institutions, and the Struggle Against Poverty (London: C. Hurst & Co., 2012).
Robert Rotberg, Transformative Political Leadership: Making a Difference in the Developing World (London and Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2012).
The Developmental Leadership Program http://www.dlprog.org/.
(1) Karl Marx, ‘The Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte’, Essay, 1852.
(2) Author Interview, Port Moresby, November 2014.
(3) Robert Rotberg, Transformative Political Leadership: Making a Difference in the Developing World (London and Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2012), p. 19.
(4) Nannerl Keohane, ‘Western Political Thought’, in The Oxford Handbook of Political Leadership, edited by R.A.W. Rhodes and Paul Hart (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014).
(5) Confucius, The Doctrine of the Mean, circa 500 BCE, quoted in Joseph Chan and Elton Chan, ‘Confucianism and Political Leadership’, in The Oxford Handbook of Political Leadership, edited by R.A.W. Rhodes and Paul Hart (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014).
(6) Richard Taylor and Roger Fieldhouse, ‘Our History is Under Attack’, The Guardian, 31 December 2013, www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2013/dec/31/history-under-attack-ep-thompson.
(8) ‘After the Patriarch: Singapore After Lee Kuan Yew’, The Economist, 28 March 2015, www.economist.com/news/asia/21647333-island-state-mourns-its-founding-father-its-politics-changing-after-patriarch.
(9) ‘King Paul: A Successful Man with No Successor’, The Economist, 26 March 2015, www.economist.com/news/middle-east-and-africa/21647365-successful-man-no-successor-king-paul?zid=309&ah=80dcf288b8561b012f603b9fd9577f0e.
(11) Laura Brannelly, Laura Lewis and Susy Ndaruhutse, Higher Education and the Formation of Developmental Elites: A Literature Review and Preliminary Data Analysis, DLP Research Paper 10 (Birmingham: University of Birmingham, 2011), www.dlprog.org/publications/higher-education-and-the-formation-of-developmental-elites-a-literature-review-and-preliminary-data-analysis.php.
(12) Sarah Phillips, Political Settlements and State Formation: The Case of Somaliland, DLPResearch Paper 23 (Birmingham: University of Birmingham, 2013), www.dlprog.org/publications/political-settlements-and-state-formation-the-case-of-somaliland.php.
(13) Author Interview, Port Moresby, November 2014.
(14) Author Interview, Nuku, November 2014.
(15) Makarand, ‘Mahatma Gandhi—The True Revolutionary’, Makarand blog, 30 January 2015, https://makarandimpressions.wordpress.com/2015/01/30/mahatma-gandhi-the-true-revolutionary/.
(16) Robert Rotberg, Transformative Political Leadership: Making a Difference in the Developing World (London and Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2012), p. 63.
(17) Duncan Green, Faces of Latin America, 3rd edition (New York: Monthly Review Press, 2012).
(18) Inter-American Commission on Human Rights, Report No. 9/08, Case 12.332 Admissibility, Margarida Maria Alves, Brazil, 5 March 5 2008.
(19) Lao Tzu, Tao Te Ching, Chapter 17, sixth century BCE.
(20) Neil Sutherland, Christopher Land, and Steffen Böhm, ‘Anti-leaders(hip) in Social Movement Organizations: The Case of Autonomous Grassroots Groups’, Organization 5 June 2013, 1350508413480254.
(21) Tam O’Neil and Georgia Plank, with Pilar Domingo, Support to Women and Girls’ Leadership: A Rapid Review of the Evidence (London: Overseas Development Institute, 2015), www.odi.org/sites/odi.org.uk/files/odi-assets/publications-opinion-files/9623.pdf.
(23) Hanna Rosin, The End of Men: And the Rise of Women (New York: Penguin Books, 2012).
(24) Robert Rotberg, Transformative Political Leadership: Making a Difference in the Developing World (London and Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2012), p. 40.