Protocol

The word protocol means different things in different cultures: that is clear. In the DRC it’s not a system but a person.

It’s the person you have to please to get an audience with an important person: the one who has the power, the formal power, to even prevent you from meeting the BIG MAN. Or sometimes the big woman. He loves the power, and lets you know that not only does he have the power to say no, but his boss wants him to say no. So it’s no good going behind his back.

Such is the system. A good protocol will expect to be treated with the same dignity that you will give his boss – so don’t speak down to him and don’t try the “do you know who I am?” trick, as he certainly does.

There is therefore a ritual to be followed. First a phone call, enquiring whether the BIG MAN would be so good as to receive you. If you pass that hurdle you will be telephoned and tentative dates exchanged. Then comes the documentary phase: you need to prove your credentials by producing your travel orders. If these or other documentation passes the test, then you will be given an appointment. The appointment will be confirmed by an invitation (see above), which at first sight you might think is for a wedding or other social event. But no: this is your passport to enter the inner sanctum.

When you arrive for your appointment there will be much two-faced grovelling of respect by the protocol, or occasionally a dismissive “I’ll see whether he can see you, but (the President/Governor/Prime Minister etc) has called him to a meeting so he’s only got a minute.” One thing is for sure, there’s no relationship between the reception you’ll get from the BIG MAN and that which his protocol projects.

After the meeting the protocol will be hanging around to receive your fervent thanks, and will give you that knowing look of people who are within the inner circle.

There’s another group of people who go by the name of protocol. These are the people who facilitate the passage of documents through the bureaucracy, or more importantly protect you from menacing and greedy officials at airports etc. Theirs is a much harder task, and sometimes they have to appear very tough to avoid being cornered in an unpleasant bribery situation. Equally they have to know who to slip a few dollars to if they want to get things done. Watching our office's "protocol" at the airport, as he defends our right not to have our bags searched (knowing full well that searching is preliminary to stealing) one sees that he has to become truly threatening with righteous indignation if he is to succeed. It’s a power game, which a good protocol knows how to win.

Either way, you can’t avoid the protocol, and in many interesting ways they are much more of a solution than a problem. Getting all the documents one needs to legitimise oneself has been far easier here than in Holland, Kenya and South Africa. Because here there's a protocol to do it all for you, and that's simply the way it is done. Everyone wins from the system: for me, I'd much rather have him than me wait in the queues. And for him - well - it's a job.