Les Cahiers d’Afrique de l’Est / The East African Review
41 | 2009 Democracy in Uganda
Bernard Calas (dir.)
Electronic version URL: http://journals.openedition.org/eastafrica/564
Printed version Date of publication: 1 September 2009 ISSN: 2071-7245
Electronic reference Bernard Calas (dir.), Les Cahiers d’Afrique de l’Est / The East African Review, 41 | 2009, « Democracy in Uganda » [Online], Online since 07 May 2019, connection on 07 May 2019. URL : http:// journals.openedition.org/eastafrica/564
This text was automatically generated on 7 May 2019.
Les Cahiers d’Afrique de l’Est / The East African Review 1
EDITOR'S NOTE
This issue, published in 2009, was revised and corrected in 2019. Ce numéro, publié en 2009, a été révisé et corrigé en 2019.
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
Part I. Democracy in Uganda
Democratization and Conflict Resolution in Uganda Paul Omach
From Fundamental Change to No Change: The NRM and democratization in Uganda William Muhumuza
The Challenge of Building Strong Political Parties for Democratic Governance in Uganda: Does multiparty politics have a future? Sabiti Makara
Voting Patterns in Uganda’s Elections: Could it be the end of the National Resistance Movement’s (NRM) domination in Uganda’s politics? Charles N. Bwana
Switiching Roles in Pursuit of Democracy in Uganda: the performance of civil society and media in the absence of political opposition Sam S. Mutabazi
Part II. Varia
The struggle for space: minority religious identities in post-independence Kenya Mildred A.J. Ndeda
J. K. Nyerere entre mythe et histoire : analyse de la production d’une mémoire publique officielle en Tanzanie post-socialiste Les commémorations de la disparition du père de la nation Marie-Aude Fouéré
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Part I. Democracy in Uganda
Les Cahiers d’Afrique de l’Est / The East African Review, 41 | 2009 4
Democratization and Conflict Resolution in Uganda
Paul Omach
Introduction
1 Since the 1990s, the promotion of democracy and good governance have been championed as vital for the resolution of conflicts, consolidating peace and promoting development in societies emerging from conflict. Multilateral and bilateral development agencies added democratization to their programmes, and transition to democracy became a major aim of foreign policy and development assistance of many western donor states.1 This partly reflected the triumph of liberal internationalism in the aftermath of the end of the Cold War; and the optimism that intra-state conflicts could be peacefully resolved through multilateral initiatives, and commitment to rebuilding failed states.2 The reciprocal link between democracy, peace and development is rooted in liberal internationalist paradigm. The liberal approach emphasizes political reconstruction and transition from authoritarian rule to institutionalized democratic governance; socio- economic reconstruction and transition from state controlled to market economies; and a security transition involving demobilization and reintegration of former combatants into civilian life, formation of new national army and security sector reform.3
2 Influenced by the assumptions of liberal internationalism, western donor states and organizations have tried to resolve conflicts in countries such as El Salvador, Cambodia, Nicaragua, Namibia, Angola, the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) among others; and to consolidate peace in countries such as Ethiopia and Uganda that were emerging from conflicts.4 Although western donor states and multilateral agencies have at times hastily made pronouncements about “successful transitions from war to peace”, the degree of success of these interventions has varied.5 In Mozambique, there has been remarkable peace and development, while in Angola democratization was a disastrous failure. The DRC is still embroiled in conflicts, and Uganda, which has been hailed by western donors as the model of successful postconflict recovery in Africa,6 is still riddled with violent internal conflicts.
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3 This paper reflects on the link between democratization and peacebuilding in Uganda. It seeks to answer the question why democratization in Uganda has not led to the resolution of conflicts. The central argument of the paper is that democratization process in Uganda has focused on building and reforming institutions as opposed to consensus building and conflict resolution. The NRA/M used democratic reforms to reconfigure the Ugandan state and politics to consolidate itself in power and to hoodwink western donors and ensure continued international support. Accordingly, the NRM government has carried out a sham democratization process that has not contributed to resolution of conflicts. It rejected the idea of building national consensus in favour of the strategy of exclusion and inclusion. It “criminalized” opponents and adopted a mixture of militarist approaches, political cooptation and patronage in response to conflicts. The NRA/M government was able to do this because western donors were happy with the record of Uganda’s economic reforms, the perception of Uganda as an island of stability, and of the Ugandan leader Yoweri Museveni as a reliable partner of the West. Uganda is thus, a thinly disguised authoritarian state with endemic conflicts.
The Dynamics of Conflicts in Uganda
4 Uganda is mired, not in one, but many conflicts. The conflicts are at various levels and are composed of interlocking struggles. These conflicts are linked to the challenges of state and nation-building; accumulating, centralizing, and concentrating the power resources necessary for effective territorial domination.7 The Ugandan state was an “artificial creation”8 of British colonialism. It is defined by complex and crosscutting regional divide between the Nilotic north and the Bantu south; ethnic, linguistic and religious cleavages. Integrating these diverse groups into a coherent national entity has presented daunting challenge since the colonial era. Since pre-independence politics, conflict over an appropriate “form of government” for Uganda, as well as the role of the different actors or groups in national politics has been endemic.9 There has been conflict between proponents of unitary and federal systems; republicanism and monarchism; single and competitive party systems; sub-national and national loyalty, among others.
5 The 1962 constitution reflected attempts to manage the various conflicting interests. This compromise document provided for a federal status for Buganda and semi-federal status for the other four Kingdoms, and unitary relations between the districts and the central government. However, the constitutional arrangement did not satisfy all groups. In 1962, the “Rwenzururu” rebellion broke when the Bakonzo and Bamba took up arms against domination by Toro Kingdom and fought for recognition of the rights of minority ethnic groups in independent Uganda.10 It did not therefore take long before the spirit of compromise and institutional restraints on the use of power, which had reluctantly been adhered to, dissipated. In 1966, Prime Minister Milton Obote ordered a military invasion of the Kabaka’s palace. The Kabaka fled to exile where he died a few years later. The following year, a new constitution declared Uganda a republic and centralized power in an executive president. This resulted in a crisis of legitimacy and heightened conflict in the ethnically fragile state. In 1971, the army overthrew the civilian government of Milton Obote. This was the beginning of eight years of brutal and autocratic rule under military dictator Idi Amin. Amin’s rule was characterized by violence and it poisoned ethnic relations as the regime alienated one ethnic group after the other.11 It resulted in social dislocation and institutional decay. Hence, when he was overthrown in 1979 by a
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combined force of the Tanzanian Peoples Defence Force and Ugandan guerrillas, violence and disorder continued, and the successive regimes were confronted with the problems of re-establishing societal and political order.12 The major political actors of the time, most of whom were political returnees whose claim to a role in national politics rested on their “roles” in the overthrow of Idi Amin were deeply divided along political, ethnic, religious, military and ideological lines.13 Intrigues and manoeuvres were ripe, as different groups positioned themselves for political control. The euphoria and hopes of progress and national reconciliation that followed the end of Idi Amin’s brutal rule had dissipated.14 Consequently, the December 1980 elections were held under a tense atmosphere of considerable controversy, mistrust, political violence and threats of civil war. The UPC government which came to power after the elections was therefore faced with a crisis of legitimacy. In February 1981, Yoweri Museveni who had threatened to “go to the bush” and wage war if the elections were rigged, launched a guerrilla war against the UPC government.
6 By the time the NRA/M came to power in January 1986, Uganda was in a shambles. There was rampant violence and insecurity. The government had lost control and the army had disintegrated into armed gangs that were engaged in looting and harassment of civilians. The conflict had also polarized Uganda along the regional north-south divide and along ethnic lines. The NRA/M guerrilla war had pitted a predominantly southern guerrilla army against a northern dominated government army, the Uganda National Liberation Army (UNLA). There were also many rival armed groups such at Uganda Freedom Movement (UFM), Federal Democratic Army (Fedemo), Uganda National Rescue Front (UNRF) and Former Uganda National Army (FUNA), among others, vying for political control. The situation in Karamoja sub-region in north eastern Uganda was also volatile. Underdevelopment, years of neglect and proliferation small arms and light weapons had transformed and led to the escalation of cattle rustling.15 From the onset therefore, the newly established NRA/M government was faced with the twin tasks of consolidating its hold on power and resolving issues related to the struggle for political control and the roles of various actors in national political life.
7 It was against this background that the capture of power by NRA/M in January 1986 was greeted with optimism about the restoration of peace, political stability and democracy. The NRM had come to power on the platform of establishing democracy, restoring security and consolidating national unity.16 Within a few months, it had succeeded in extending its control over the entire country and establishing a measure of stability. In May 1987, the NRM government signed agreement with the IMF and World Bank and began to implement Structural Adjustment Programmes (SAPS). This endeared the NRM government to Western donors and resulted in the flow of aid and improvement in Uganda’s economic performance during the 1990s. The western world began to view Uganda as an island of stability in a troubled region; a country that enjoys political stability and sustained economic growth.
8 However, the optimism was premature. The peace that existed at the time was a victor’s peace, which depended on the ability of the NRA/M to impose and maintain its control, and quiescence of defeated groups. Issues related to political control and the roles of the various actors in national politics remained unresolved. Thus, within a few months, there was resurgence of violent conflict in northern Uganda between the NRA and former soldiers of the Uganda National Liberation Army (UNLA), which the NRA had defeated. The conflict broke out after NRA soldiers began to roundup and take to “politicization
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camps”, (a euphemism for concentration or detention camps), all former UNLA soldiers who had defied an order to report to army authorities within ten days, which was made over Radio Uganda in mid-April 1986. Tension escalated into full-scale war when former soldiers of the UNLA who had re-organized under the banner of the Uganda Peoples Democratic Army (UPDA) attacked NRA positions in Gulu and Kitgum districts in August 1986. The attack opened a Pandora’s Box. Within a few months, the conflict spread like bush fire to the entire north and eastern Uganda. A number of armed groups, with diverse political and military importance emerged to challenge the NRA/M regime.17 These included the UPDA, UPA/F, Ninth October Movement (NOM), Force Obote Back Again (FOBA), and NALU, which was active in western Uganda around the foothills of the Ruwenzori Mountains, and others of limited significance. Most of these groups were either defeated, and some of the members co-opted by the NRA/M government, resumed civilian life or remained in exile. The most resilient group has been the Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA), which has tormented northern Uganda since 1987.
9 The NALU rebellion was led by Amon Bazira, a former minister in the deposed UPC government. Through the rebellion, local political rivalry and vendetta among Bakonzo politicians were entangled conflicts at the national level over struggles for political control. The rebellion also “reignited” the “Rwenzururu” rebellion which had been ended in 1982 through negotiations with the government.18 The agreement which ended the conflict collapsed after Bakonzo politicians who were members of the Uganda Peoples Congress (UPC) like Amon Bazira were either detained or forced to flee to exile in 1986. The government also stopped funding the Rwenzururu leader (“King”), Charles Mumbere who was studying in the United States because he was considered a protege of the UPC.
10 The outbreak of armed conflicts in northern and south-western Uganda presented the NRA/M with a dilemma of whether to adopt a military or democratic approach to resolution of the conflict. The NRA/M criminalized its opponents to prevent them from gaining domestic and international support. It used military repression co-optation and patronage to respond to conflicts. When the conflict in northern Uganda had just started, President Yoweri Museveni described it as a result of “rear-guard actions of the defeated, moribund, sectarian and neo-colonial elements”, and labelled his opponents as “the elements that have caused untold suffering to the people of Uganda, violated human rights, murdered people, destroyed the economy and violated the sovereignty of the people of Uganda.”19 He declared that: “Fighting and annihilating these types of elements is a justified cause.”20
The National Resistance Movement (NRM) and Democratic Reforms in Uganda
11 The NRM carried out reforms in two phases, which overlapped. It concentrated on establishing new political institutions and consolidating its hold on power. During the first phase, the ideological orientations of the NRM, the “self-conceived superiority of thoughts”21 and the conviction that the organization had the “correct political line”, and the imperatives of regime consolidation influenced the process of reforms. The NRM emphasized central control and command; and adopted a top-down approach.
12 To legitimise its authority and consolidate its hold on power, the NRA/M established new political institutions and governance structures, at the local and national level, albeit in an extra-legal manner.22 Through Legal Notice no. 1 of 198623, an “interim” government
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was established. The National Resistance Council (NRC), the ruling organ of the NRA/M was made the government of Uganda. Both executive and legislative powers were fused in the NRC, whose membership was expanded to include newly appointed ministers and deputy ministers. The new government also appointed an ombudsman, the Inspector General of Government (IGG) and established the Uganda Human Rights Commission to investigate human rights violations. The National Resistance Movement (NRM) secretariat headed by the National Political Commissar was established and Special District Administrators (SDAs) were introduced to replace District Commissioners. These were charged with the supervision of
13 Resistance Councils and Committes (RCs), a five-tier system of local government structure. The RCs were promoted as structures for popular participation. In reality, RCs were used to consolidate NRA/M rule and they served as grass root structures of support for the NRA/M. The National School of Political education was also set up to train political cadres who were then deployed in the districts to carry out mobilization duties.24 The course syllabus was designed by the NRA/M and it was based on its ideological beliefs. The political education programmes became very divisive as it was used to spread NRA/M propaganda.
14 In a measure, ostensibly to create national unity, the NRM pledged to establish a “broad- based” government. However, within the NRA/M decision making powers remained with an identifiable “core” committed to the organisation’s basic ideology. The NRA/M government also determined those to include and exclude, as well as the parameters of participation. Such an approach is not conducive for building national consensus and resolution of conflicts. On the 27 January 1986, one day after the NRA/M captured Kampala, Yoweri Museveni told journalists, diplomats and representatives of international organisations that the NRA/M would talk to virtually all political and military factions. He however made it clear that “criminal elements” would not be accommodated.25 Those the NRM considered opponents were labelled “criminals” and were intimidated, coerced or co-opted.
15 However, the scope of participation in politics was also constrained. Participation in politics was limited by the principle of “individual merit”. People were expected to participate in politics in their individual capacities, but not as members of political organizations. In line with its views that political parties were “sectarian” and “divisive”, on 11 March 1986, three months after it came to power, the NRA/M regime directed political parties to suspend activities; holding meetings and rallies. Only activities “intended to enhance national unity along the lines set by Government” were allowed.26 The NRA/M also expanded its political education programme in which political parties were portrayed as divisive and sectarian, and blamed for past political evils.
16 Faced with severe economic crisis and the desire to secure badly needed external aid, in 1987 the NRA/M government signed an agreement with the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and the World Bank and adopted a Structural Adjustment Programme (SAP). Since then, especially from the 1990s, the liberal paradigm, which entails transition to a liberal democratic polity and market-oriented economy, has influenced and moderated the process of reforms in Uganda. In 1988, the NRM government appointed a constitutional commission and mandated it “to consult the people and make proposals for a popular and lasting constitution based on national consensus.”27 International donors supported the constitution making process under the framework of support for democratization.
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17 However, despite the stated noble intentions, and the importance of constitution making for conflict resolution, Uganda squandered an important opportunity.28 The desire for regime consolidation and the consolidation of personal power by the incumbent resulted deprived the country of the opportunity to build national consensus and establish a framework to accommodate divergent groups and interests. The president appointed the Chairman and members of the Commission, without any democratic consultation, and the Commission operated in a manner that gave the impression of a controlled process aimed at restricting unpalatable outcomes. The Commission held 33 district seminars, which identified 29 major issues, which became the central agenda for the commission’s work. Seminar participants comprised members of parliament from the district, officials from the District Administrator’s office, RCs, chiefs, representatives of religious organizations, educational institutions, women and youth groups. The Commission provided guidelines for the seminar. District constitutional committees educated people at the sub-county level on the constitutional issues before calling upon them to submit memorandum. The police disallowed attempts to organize debates outside the sanctioned framework.29 This created the perception in some quarters that “the whole exercise was a gimmick”, as the government “had already made a Constitution and was only seeking legitimacy for it.” The draft constitution the Commission submitted to the government confirmed the above view. The Commission recommended the suspension of political party activities for a five- year period, by entrenching the “Movement” or no party system of governance in the constitution. To its credit, the Commission recommended that a democratically elected Constituent Assembly (CA) should the debate the constitution.
18 However, the NRM preempted discussion on the role of traditional rulers when it introduced constitutional amendments and restored traditional rulers and institutions.30 This deprived the country of the opportunity to openly debate, negotiate and come to an agreed position on traditional and cultural institutions. In restoring traditional institutions, the government acted opportunistically to win political support among the Baganda, after failing to intimidate Baganda monarchies and activist from dropping their demands for a federal system of government. It subordinated traditional rulers to NRA/M rule by not spelling out powers of traditional institutions. Although traditional rulers are supposed to play cultural roles only and should not participate in politics, determining what is political depends on the president’s interpretation. It is also the president who has the powers to sanction the creation or recognition of a cultural institution. The president by his own admission is the king of kings of Ssabagabbe. The President he has supported the creation of new kingdoms and chiefdoms where non-existed. Such was the case of Buruuli “kingdom” whose creation was sanctioned, if not instigated by the government, to the chagrin of Buganda Kingdom. The government has also withheld recognition for the restoration of Ankole Kingdom, and the establishment of others like the Rwenzururu kingdom. After the 1993 constitutional amendments, Charles Mumbere declared a restoration of the Rwenzururu Kingdom31 and sought President Museveni’s support and recognition of the Kingdom. But there has not been any equivocal support from the president who uses the grant of recognition for patronage. This has contributed to lack of support for the NRM and also increased animosity between NRM politicians and their political opponents. It has also made the area a fertile ground for regional rebellions such as those of the Allied Democratic Forces (ADF) rebels who invaded in 1996. At one time, the government accused the Bakonzo, including “King” Charles Mumbere who was in exile, of supporting the ADF. However, Mumbere denied any link with the rebel group.
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Nonetheless, many Bakonzo were reportedly arrested, detained and tortured. Critics have accused the NRM government of exploiting the conflict to suppress its opponents by deliberating linking them with the ADF.
19 The CA had its shortcomings. The CA statute and rules of procedure were designed in such as way as to benefit the NRM.32 Besides, the NRM government manipulated CA deliberations through patronage and intimidation.33 It carried out a cabinet reshuffle and appointed a number of CA delegates to cabinet position, and some directors in boards of state-run parastatals, and reportedly moderate voices in government and CA.34 The conduct of the CA regarding contentious issues did not also encourage consensus building, and led to criticisms that outcomes were fixed in advance.35 For instance, the question of whether Uganda should become a federal state was rejected firmly without a vote. And on the nature of political systems, the CA which was dominated by members of the NRM voted to retain the “Movement” or no party system for five years, and made provision for a national referendum to determine whether to revert to multiparty political system after five years. This denied the country the opportunity to resolve one of the major sources of conflicts in Uganda. Entrenchment of the “Movement” system of governance in the constitution led to increased and continued suppression of the activities of political parties on the ground that the constitution prohibited their activities.36 This has generated intense conflict over the political space.
20 Since the promulgation of a new constitution in 1995, presidential and parliamentary elections were held under the “no party” movement system of governance in 1996 and 2001. Intimidation, harassment and violence against opposition multi-party coalition political groups marred the 1996 elections. During the campaigns, NRM supporters branded supporters of the leader of the Democratic Party (DP) and candidate of the opposition coalition, Paul Ssemogerere traitors; and subjected them to systematic harassment and intimidation. This was particularly the case in southwestern Uganda where NRM supporters considered it a crime for anybody to oppose Yoweri Museveni or advocate for return to multi-party political system.37
21 The NRA/M used scaremonger tactics to sow seeds of discord and undermine support for Paul Ssemogerere in the southern part of Uganda. Paul Ssemogerere’s alliance with the Uganda Peoples Congress (UPC) and his statement that he would not oppose return to Uganda of former President Milton Obote, were used by the NRM to scare people from voting for him. Thus instead of using democratic elections to resolve conflicts, the NRM leadership used the elections to entrench the north-south divide and to maintain the southern consensus on which it relies to remain in power. The results of the presidential elections reflected the regional north-south divide. Thus, although Yoweri Museveni won the presidential elections with about 75 percent, he lost by a wide margin in war ravaged northern Uganda. The same voting pattern was repeated during the 2001 and 2006 elections, which indicated a deepening of the north-south rift.38
22 Intimidation, harassment and violence intensified during and after the 2001 elections. A parliamentary committee report on election violence attributed this among others, to activities of the army, intelligence organizations and militias.39 After the elections, Yoweri Museveni’s main opponent and former bush war associate, Kizza Besigye, fled to exile after losing an appeal to the Supreme Court, which ruled by a margin of 3-2 vote that there were widespread irregularities during the elections. A number of Besigye’s political associates also fled the country, while others were arrested and charged with treason. The government alleged that Besigye had formed an armed group, and was
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preparing to attack Uganda from the Democratic Republic of Congo. It was also reported that Besigye’s former campaign agent, James Opoka had linked-up with the LRA, but was later killed by LRA leader Joseph Kony. Besigye denied any involvement in insurgency, although he did not rule out resorting to armed struggle to bring political change to Uganda.
23 As I have already argued, by attempting to link its political opponents with armed rebel groups, the NRA/M government has found it convenient to use conflicts to suppress political opposition and to militarize society. It has therefore not been keen to link democratization with conflict resolution. Since the 2001 presidential elections the NRM leadership has also become more intolerant and repressive. In 2001 a military general was appointed to head the Uganda Police Force. Since then, political cadres and military men have been recruited into the police force, allegedly to “improve it”.
24 In March 2003 the National Executive Committee (NEC) of the ruling National Resistance Movement (NRM) decided to amend the 1995 constitution and allow a return to multi- party political system and removal of the “two term limit”. Critics argued that the decision to allow multi-party system was not based on the desire to promote democracy but on expediency. The NRM used it to get rid of internal opposition and for perpetuating Yoweri Museveni’s personal rule.40 Besides, patronage, bribery and manipulation riddled the process of amending the constitution. Furthermore, despite adopting multiparty politics the NRA/M continues to operate like it did under the no party “Movement” political system. Opposition political parties are not allowed to operate freely. Harassments and intimidation of opposition politicians by security agents has continued. Multi-party politics has been controlled and distorted.
25 The above shortcomings notwithstanding, a new constitution was promulgated in 1995 amidst optimism. There have also been some remarkable developments since the promulgation of a new constitution in 1996. The parliament has also ventured in areas like conflict resolution. In 1996, with the euphoria of the “transition” to democracy after the promulgation of a new constitution and elections, the 6th Parliament extracted concession from the government of Uganda to look into the conflict in northern Uganda. However, the inclination towards military solution to internal conflicts was too strong. Besides, like all parliaments in authoritarian states, the Ugandan parliament was (and is still) weak. The presidency controls it, and it suffers from the perils of parliaments in personal states. Thus, the Parliamentary Sessional Committee on Defence and Internal Affairs, which investigated the conflicts in northern Uganda ruled out peace talks with rebels, and instead recommended a military solution. This decision undermined the role of democratization in the resolution of conflicts. Nonetheless, a minority report by two members recommended peace talks.41 The minority reported argued that parliament should be the last institution to shut the doors to peaceful resolution of conflicts.
26 From then on, civil society groups sustained the search for a peaceful resolution to the conflict. The government of Uganda, which prefers military solution, gave half-hearted approval to civil society initiatives. Thus, although President Yoweri Museveni endorsed the peace efforts by Acholi Religious Leaders and “Rwodi” (chiefs), cooperation by military and intelligence agencies could not be taken for granted, as representatives of Acholi Religious Leaders Peace Initiative (ARLPI) who were attacked by the army during one peace mission painfully learnt.42
27 Insistence by the government of Uganda on military response to conflict and its efforts at subverting democratic reforms has raised serious concern about the behaviour of western
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donors have continued to provide aid to Uganda. The government of Uganda has been able to refuse to pursue its militant approach because of the support of major western donor states such as the United States. As Ellen Hauser has argued, western donor states, especially the United States, has used President Yoweri Museveni as an “interlocutor” in the region.43 The United States for instance, has been more preoccupied with promoting its national interest. It has used the conflict in northern Uganda as a proxy in its conflict with Sudan, first in the struggle against the spread of Islamic fundamentalism and later the “war on terror”. The government of Uganda has been shrewd enough to align its policies closely with those of the United States to preempt pressures to resolve conflicts through democratic means. When in December 2001, the United States added the LRA and ADF on its “Terrorist Exclusion List” under the newly enacted US Patriot Act, designed to protect the US and its citizens after September 11,44 Uganda followed suit. In March of 2002, Uganda followed suit and passed the Anti-Terrorism Act, thereby criminalizing the LRA and other insurgent groups and excluding peaceful negotiations with them.
28 After years of mounting pressure, in June 1996 the Ugandan government, dropped its insistence on military solution to the conflict in northern Uganda and accepted to take part in peace talks with the LRA under the mediation of the Government of Southern Sudan.45 The talks got off to a difficult start with both parties taking hard-line stances. From the onset, the Government of Uganda viewed the purpose of the talks as that for negotiating the terms of surrender for the LRA. It rejected LRA calls for cessation of hostilities. The LRA adopted the tactic of walking out and causing stalemate.46 By accepting to negotiate, the president was playing the card of “expediency”. In his unguarded moments, the President betrays himself. He uses words like “soft landing” to refer to the Juba Peace talks. He has also been reported to have said: “I am always branded a warmonger. So I had to be here and show that I am a very peaceful person.”47 Despite initial challenges, the LRA and Government of Uganda signed a landmark Cessation of Hostilities Agreement in August 2006,48 and subsequently signed four other agreements. The talks raised hopes for restoration of peace in northern Uganda. There was remarkable improvement in security in northern Uganda. However, the failure of LRA leader Joseph Kony to show up in Rikwangba for the signing of the final agreement and Uganda government’s resumption of military attacks against the LRA rebels in December 2008 have thrown the prospects for peaceful resolution of the conflict in balance.
Conclusion
29 After more than two decades in power during which the NRM government has carried out a number of democratic reforms, Uganda is still afflicted by a number of conflicts. The NRM has not linked democratic reforms with conflict resolution. Democratization in Uganda has focussed on the building of institutions as opposed to consensus building and accommodation. The process has been controlled and has reflected the aspirations and interests of the NRM leadership. The NRM carried out democratic reforms to consolidate its hold on power and broaden its support base. It initiated reforms to get foreign aid from western donors. Massive inflow of aid from the west has enabled the NRM to distribute resources to clients and maintain a coalition that has given the impression that a national consensus exists in Uganda. There are also indications that the NRM has had every intention to continue monopolising power and subverting the processes of democratization. It has sought to maintain itself in power through force.
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30 The consequence is that, Uganda is possibly more divided today than it was in 1986 when the NRM came to power. Regionalism and ethnicity have become important consideration in the allocation of scarce resources. The conflict in northern Uganda has resulted in widespread economic and institutional collapse. Poverty, malnutrition and mortality rate are well above emergency thresholds. This has widened the regional north-south. The development of two countries and two economies, a prosperous south and an impoverished north has been entrenched. Local level conflicts have also intensified. In addition there is increasing lack of tolerance and growing dissent in the country, as numerous political groups are alienated.
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Kakande, John (1995). “NRM is Influencing CA, says Mulenga.” New Vision (Kampala), 29 July 1995.
Kumar, Khrisna (1997). “The Nature and Focus of International Assistance for Rebuilding War- Torn Societies.” In Khrisna Kumar (ed.), Rebuilding Societies after Civil War: Critical Roles for International Assistance: 1-39. Boulder: Lynne Rienner.
Legum, Colin, ed. (1986–87), Africa Contemporary Record, 19. London, New York: Africana Publishing Co.
Legum, Colin, ed. (1985–86). Africa Contemporary Record, 18. London, New York: Africana Publishing Co.
Legum, Colin, ed. (1972-1973), African Contemporary Record, 5. London, New York: Africana Publishing Co.
Low, A. (1998). “The Dislocated Polity.” In H.B. Hansen & M.Twaddle (eds.), Uganda Now: Between Decay and Development. London: James Currey.
Makara, Sabiti (2007). “Uganda’s 2006 Elections: Consolidating Democracy and Building Peace?” East African Journal of Peace and Human Rights 13 (1): 54–80.
Mukasa, Henry (2006). “Government, LRA Sign Peace Deal.” Sunday Vision (Kampala), 27 August 2006: 1–2.
Museveni, Yoweri K. (2006). “State of the Nation Address (6 June 2007).” Reprinted in the Daily Monitor (Kampala), 8 June 2006.
Museveni, Yoweri K. (1987). “Speech on the Opening of the National Resistance Council Session at the National Assembly.” Kampala, 7 April 1987.
Nabudere, Dani Wadada (2000). Uganda Referendum 2000: Winners and Losers. Kampala: Monitor Publications.
Nyakairu, Frank (2006). “Government Gives Terms for Peace.” Daily Monitor (Kampala), 17 July 2006: 1–2.
Obbo, Sam (1991). “City Square Calm.” New Vision (Kampala), 10 May 1991: 1–2.
Oloka-Onyango, Joe (2004). “‘New Breed:’ Leadership, Conflict, and Reconstruction in the Great Lakes Region of Africa: A Socio-Political Biography of Uganda’s Yoweri Kaguta Museveni.” Africa Today 50 (3).
Oloka-Onyango, Joe (1995). “Constitutional Transitions in Museveni’s Uganda: New Horizons or Another False Start?” Journal of African Law 39 (2).
Ori Amaza, Ondoga (1998), Museveni’s Long March: From Guerrilla to Statesman. Kampala: Fountain Publishers.
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Ottaway, Marina (2003). “Promoting Democracy after Conflict: The Difficult Choices.” International Studies Perspectives 4: 314–322.
Regan, Anthony J. (1995). “Constitutional Reform and the Politics of the Constitution in Uganda: A New Path to Constitutionalism?” In Peter Langseth, J. Katorobo, E. Brett & J. Munene (eds.) Uganda: Landmarks in Rebuilding a Nation. Kampala: Fountain Publishers.
Republic of Uganda (2002). Report of the Select Committee on Election Violence, September 2002.
Republic of Uganda (1997). Towards a Peaceful Resolution of the Armed Conflict in Northern Uganda: A Minority Report from the Committee on Defence and Internal affairs on the War in Northern Uganda (January 1997).
Republic of Uganda (1993). Report of the Uganda Constitution Commission: Analysis and Recommendations. Entebbe: UPPC.
Republic of Uganda (1988). Parliamentary Debates (Hansard). National Assembly, Offical Report, November 1988.
Syahuka-Muhindo (1983). “The Origin and Development of the Rwenzururu Movement: 1900-1962.” Mawazo, 5 (2): 60–75.
Ssenkumba, John (1998). “The Dilemmas of Directed Democracy: Neutralising Ugandan Opposition Politics under the NRM.” In Adebayo Olukoshi (ed.), The Politics of Opposition in Contemporary Africa. Uppsala: Nordiska Afrikainstitutet.
Stacey, Tom (2003). Tribe: The Hidden History of the Mountain of the Moon. London: Binder and Stacey International.
Ten-Point Programme of the NRM (1986). Kampala: NRM Publications.
Tukahebwa, Geoffrey B. (2003). “‘Block Voting’ in South Western Uganda: the Case of 1996 Elections in Rukungiri District.” In Sabiti Makara et al. (eds), Voting for Democracy in Uganda: Issues in Recent Elections. Kampala: LDC Publishers.
Wakabi, Michael (2006). “Kony, Kampala set for Ceasefire as Talks Open in Juba.” East African (Nairobi), 10-16 July 2006: 8.
Walker, Robert (2002). Anti-pastoralism and the growth of poverty and Insecurity in Karamoja: Disarmament and Development Dilemmas. A Report for DFID East Africa (Uganda), March 2002.
Williams, David & Young, Tom (1994). “Governance, the World Bank and Liberal Theory.” Political Studies (42): 84–100.
World Bank (1998). Postconflict Reconstruction: the Role of the World Bank. Washington D.C.: World Bank.
NOTES
1. Williams & Young (1994); Doyle (1986); Diamond (1992). 2. See Boutros-Ghali (1992); Helman & Ratner (1992–93). 3. Forman & Patrick (2000); Kumar (1997); World Bank (1998). 4. See Colletta et al. (1996). 5. Ottaway (2003). 6. Collier & Reinikka (2001): 15.
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7. Cohen et al. (1981): 901-2. 8. Low (1988): 39. 9. Apter (1961): 264–68. 10. Syahuka-Muhindo (1983); Stacey (2003). 11. Legum (1972–73); Hansen (1977). 12. Decalo (1990): 133–98. 13. Gertzel (1980): 461–89. 14. Africa Research Bulletin (1985). 15. Walker (2002). 16. Ten-Point Programme of the NRM (1986). 17. Legum (1986–87): B459. 18. The nucleus of NALU was remnants of the Rwenzururu militants. To mobilise support, NALU invoked the name of exiled King Charles Mumbere. After the assassination of Amon Bazira in 1993, Charles Mumbere became the titular leader of NALU. 19. Museveni, Yoweri K. “Speech on the Opening of the National Resistance Council Session at the National Assembly.” Kampala, April 7, 1987. 20. Museveni, Yoweri K. “Address to the Nation on the Anniversary of Uganda’s Independence.” October 9, 1987. 21. Ssenkumba (1998): 179. 22. Republic of Uganda (1993): 54; Regan (1995): 162-64. 23. Legal Notice No. 1/1986; Africa Research Bulletin, 13, 2 (15 March 1986): 7969-70. 24. Ori Amaza (1998): 154-55. 25. Africa Research Bulletin (1986). 23 (1): 7948–51. 26. Legum (1985–6): B476. 27. Uganda Constitutional Commission Statute (Statute 5 of 1988). 28. Hauser (1999). 29. Republic of Uganda (1988); Obbo (1991). 30. See Oloka-Onyango (1995): 158. 31. Stacey (2003): 377. 32. Constituent Assembly Statute (Statute No. 6 of 1993). 33. Atubo (1995); Kakande (1995). 34. Besigye (2001). 35. Nabudere (2000). 36. Oloka-Onyango (2004). 37. Tukahebwa (2003): 203. 38. Makara (2007): 60–65. 39. Republic of Uganda (2002). 40. Makara (2007): 65–80. 41. Republic of Uganda (1997): 1–4. 42. See Justice and Peace Commission of Archdiocese of Gulu (2002).
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43. Hauser (1999): 621-24. 44. Integrated Regional Information Networks (IRIN), Uganda: “IRIN Focus on Humanitarian Issue in 2001.” http://www.irinnews.org. 45. Museveni (2006); New Vision (Kampala), 10 June 2006. 46. Wakabi (2006); Nyakairu (2006). 47. “Kony Not Serious, says Museveni.” New Vision (Kampala), 15 April 2008: 1. 48. Mukasa (2006).
INDEX
Geographical index: Uganda | Ouganda
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From Fundamental Change to No Change: The NRM and democratization in Uganda
William Muhumuza
Introduction
1 Uganda’s post-independence period, like in other African states, was afflicted by authoritarian rule,1 which led to a development crisis.2 In desperate search for remedies, most African states sought donor support. Accordingly, donors have since the 1980s exerted pressure on African states to pursue neo-liberal economic and political reforms.3 Whereas donors initially put emphasis on economic reforms, they have since the 1990s added on political reforms arguing that the success of economic reforms is dependent upon political factors. As a result, many African states embraced democratic reforms albeit with serious flaws,4 as the case of Uganda demonstrates.
2 It is imperative to note that authoritarian African leaders accepted to undertake democratic reforms in order to access donor assistance.5 They harboured a hidden agenda to manipulate them. In the process, many of them have flouted democratic rules by amending constitutions, creating proxy parties, harassing the opposition and organizing flawed elections among others. While formal-legal democratic structures have been showcased, they have had less influence on the politics of these states.6 Instead, informal systems manifested in patron-client networks have played an influential political role. Put differently, a neo-patrimonial system characterized by patronage and prebendalism has been used to the peril of democratic rule7. Uganda’s transition to democracy under Museveni’s National Resistance Movement (NRM) regime is a typical case of a flawed democratic transition that has fallen prey to vested political interests and manipulations. 8 Despite the initial democratic promises by the NRM government, there has occurred a slow but steady reversal of democratization since the mid-1990s. There have been clear signs of growing authoritarianism and the hopes of a transitioning to democratic rule have become remote.
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3 Uganda’s reform experience brings into question the neo-liberal assumption that the acceptance to implement liberal political reforms leads to democracy and good governance9. This article begins by looking at the initial populist policies adopted by president Museveni and why he later abandoned them. It then examines political manipulations used to further and entrench his personal rule at the cost of democratic consolidation. The article also analyses why donors, who have been crucial to Uganda’s recovery, are indifferent to a flawed democratic transition. Lastly, it discusses the implications of a flawed democratic process for Uganda’s political future.
The promise of “fundamental change”
4 During the swearing in ceremony on 29 January 1986, Museveni promised Ugandans a fundamental change: “No one should think that what is happening today is a mere change of guard; it is a fundamental change in the politics of our country.”10 The promise created a lot of expectations within the population after many years of despair. The country had gone through tough times due to bad governance from 1966 to 1986. This period witnessed unprecedented authoritarian rule characterized by institutional decay and political insecurity,11 which adversely affected the economy. 12 In response to the crisis, people retreated from the formal institutions of the state and organized parallel informal structures as coping mechanisms.13 The consequence was a dysfunctional state. Otherwise, it would not have been possible for Museveni’s ragtag guerrilla army that started fighting with 27 guns to overthrow a legitimately elected government within a period of only five years.
5 Museveni’s promise of fundamental change took cognizance of the fact that Ugandans had lost trust in the state and subsequently denied it legitimacy. He knew that without restoring hope, it would be difficult to get popular support for his young and fledgling government. Prior to capturing power, Museveni lacked a serious support base within the country, the very reason why he opted for a protracted civil war. He had through his Uganda Patriotic Movement (UPM) party, competed for and lost the 1980 elections. His party won a single seat in parliament. Although there were claims of election rigging by Obote’s Uganda People’s Congress (UPC),14 Museveni’s UPM party was new and little known in the country and therefore could not marshal serious support. Uganda’s politics had been dominated by the two traditional parties of UPC and Democratic Party (DP) since independence. Therefore, Museveni desperately needed legitimacy for his young NRM government to survive. It is for this reason, that he promised a fundamental change from the onset.
6 As promised, the NRM government embarked on a number of populist reforms as outlined in the Ten-Point programme—a policy document written in August 1981 by the NRM guerrillas to guide them once in power.15 Key among the policies, was the introduction of participant grassroots structures, initially known as Resistance Councils (RCs) later (1993) renamed Local Councils (LCs). The RC structure had five hierarchically linked tiers namely, the village council (RC1), parish council (RC2), sub-county council (RC3), county council (RC4) and district council (RC5). While council members for RC1 were democratically elected through adult suffrage, the councils of the remaining tiers were indirectly elected.16 In essence, the adoption of the RCs helped to rebuild the administrative structure of the collapsed state. The RCs also provided a democratic climate for citizens to effectively participate in public decision-making.17 Other populist
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reforms included the decentralization of power to local governments, election of people’s representatives to the national legislature, affirmative action for women and other marginalized groups, establishment of the offices of ombudsman and Human Rights Commission, pacification of the army, allowing civil society to organize freely, and writing a new constitution among others. The political and economic reforms introduced in the first ten years of the NRM government popularized the regime. The new grassroots institutions also helped to legitimize the NRM government.
7 The semblance of formal-legal democratic institutions created an impression that the NRM government was on the right path to democratic rule. It is therefore not surprising that the NRM government got international acclaim. President Museveni was at one time ranked among the “new breed” of African leaders, and the country considered a “beacon of hope” in Africa by the former US Secretary of state, Madeline Albright. Therefore, the implementation of popular governance reforms improved the country’s image at home and abroad. This helped to stabilize the country internally and attract generous foreign aid.
8 During the first ten years, the NRM leadership embraced participatory politics and tolerated divergent political views. Evidence of political tolerance can be exemplified by President Museveni’s first cabinet, which was all-embracing and broad based.18 It drew members from the NRM, traditional political parties and other shades of political life. It tried to accommodate Uganda’s religious, regional and ethnic social diversities. These populist policies were intended to unify and stabilize the country especially after many years of political dislocation. Accordingly, popular avenues were used to review some of the existing institutions such as the constitution. This process culminated into the writing of a new Ugandan constitution of 1995, which was a product of wide consultations that represented a broad spectrum of Ugandan political views.19 In addition, new institutions such as the Uganda Human Rights Commission and the Inspectorate of Government (IGG) were created. Nonetheless, the democratic transition process has since 1996 got derailed. The question posed by this paper is what motivated President Museveni to pursue democratic reforms in the initial period but later abandon them?
Motivating factors for pursuing populist reforms
9 Museveni’s initial attempts to pursue populist reforms can be attributed to a number of factors. First, he was able to capture power partly because of his popular appeal especially to the rural people. In stark contrast with the predecessor government, the National Resistance Army (NRA), a guerrilla force, had excellent relations with the local people in the occupied parts of the country. People in liberated zones were organized into RCs, which gave material and political support to the NRA. The RC structure was gradually rolled over to all parts of the country after the NRM captured power. Through affirmative action policy initiatives, the NRM also won the support of women, youth and the disabled. Therefore, Museveni’s re-introduction of political participation generated a massive rural support base and legitimacy for the NRM government, which it desperately needed for stability and nation-building. It should be noted that while Ugandans experienced relative democracy briefly (1962—1965), the period from 1966 to 1986 witnessed unprecedented levels of authoritarian rule.
10 The other objective of initiating populist reforms was to undercut the power base of traditional political parties, which posed a threat to the NRM’s hold on power. Ugandans
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had since the struggle for independence subscribed to two major political parties of UPC and DP. Despite having a countrywide appeal, the two parties were sectarian in nature.20 Therefore, for Museveni’s NRM to penetrate the Ugandan political scene, it was imperative to weaken the influence of the two sectarian parties. This was effectively done through RCs, which were popular, participatory and non-sectarian. RCs attracted tremendous popular support because they were viewed as a uniting factor in a nation torn by many years of social divisions and strife. Therefore, without providing a viable option in form of popular grassroots structures such as RCs, Museveni and his NRM government would have found it difficult to wrestle influence from the two traditional political parties.
11 Another explanation for Museveni’s initial democratization efforts was the desire for international recognition and support. It should be remembered that African states had been afflicted by despotic and corrupt regimes.21 Hence, Museveni had to demonstrate to both the local people and international community that his regime had democratic credentials. Coupled with this, his ascendancy to power occurred at a time when donor support was tied to pursuing neo-liberal economic and democratic reforms.22 As earlier pointed out, Museveni had inherited a failed state and shattered economy. Therefore, successful reconstruction required enormous donor support that could only be accessed through adhering to donor policies. Although Museveni was initially an ardent student of Marxist ideas and a strong critique of World Bank and IMF policies, he had to abandon this position by May 1987 and embrace Western-sponsored market and democratic reforms.23 This ideological shift was inevitable if his government was to access the much needed donor support to reconstruct the economy, which had big implications for the survival of his regime. The sudden shift to pursue neo-liberal reforms attracted substantial support from the IFIs and bilateral aid.
12 However, it should be realized that President Museveni implemented populist reforms not because he subscribed to democratic ethos but for purposes of strengthening his hold on power. It ought to be noted that he was never subjected to any elections from 1986 to 1996. During this period, the NRM monopolized power. Although political parties were not banned, their activities were restricted to party head offices. Hence, it can be argued that President Museveni used populist appeals such as the reforms mentioned above to consolidate his power base.
The implementation of pseudo-democratic reforms, 1996-2006
13 The period from 1996 onwards marked a shift from the all-inclusive and broad-based politics of national unity to politics of exclusion and manipulation. In short, it was no longer necessary for President Museveni to have a broad-based government because the ten years in power had helped him consolidate his power base by building a strong grassroots network and military machine. Besides, the state and economy had been reconstructed and the country was relatively stable. Hence, Museveni’s position was stronger than ever before both domestically and externally.
14 Despite the various economic and political accomplishments of the NRM government, donor and domestic pressure continued to be exerted on government to open up political space for competitive politics. Previously, President Museveni was able to resist these
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pressures by arguing that he wanted to rebuild the country first and subsequently create a stable environment for competitive politics. This argument was however dismissed by local critics who contended that Museveni was afraid of competitive politics and intolerant to divergent views24. Whereas President Museveni had an advantage of incumbency, he still feared opening up for competitive multiparty elections and instead opted for gradual and pseudo democratic reforms. The reason for doing this was to avoid being ostracized by donors, which would have been costly in terms of losing external economic support. Besides, he also wanted to silence his domestic critics (especially the multiparty advocates), that the NRM needed more time to complete the democratic reform process, especially after the writing of the new constitution in 1995.
15 In order to quell internal and external pressures, President Museveni opted for a gradual but slow political transition to competitive politics based on individual merit25 as opposed to partisan politics in 1996. It should be pointed out that the constitutional making commission whose members were handpicked by President Museveni, had recommended that party activities be suspended for five more years after which the decision would be reviewed through a referendum. This position was upheld by the Constituent Assembly (CA), which was dominated by NRM delegates. The temporary suspension of party activities was eventually provided for under Article 269 of the 1995 Constitution. As a consequence, the 1996 elections were organized under the individual merit framework, a principle that was upheld by the 2000 referendum.
16 Hence, the political transition was securely placed under the control and influence of Museveni’s NRM government. The only concession was to open up for individuals from any political persuasion to compete for power at all levels of government on the basis of individual merit but not parties. This was justified on the grounds that multipartism would return sectarian politics and consequently polarize the country. This allowed the NRM to implement piecemeal democratic reforms, which were manipulated to ensure that Museveni maintains political control. It is not until 2005 that change to multiparty politics was approved. It should be pointed out that Museveni opted for this change because it suited his vested political interests. He made this concession in order to get a new lease of political life and bounce back as a president under a different political dispensation. He needed to assure donors that Uganda was steadily transiting to multiparty democracy so as to continue getting aid.
17 On the question of quest for a new lease of political life, the 1995 Constitution had mandated two presidential term limits, which in the case of President Museveni was to expire in 2006. Therefore, his personal effort to campaign for the opening up of multiparty politics in 2005 referendum26 was in preparation for prolonging his stay in office as president under the new multiparty political dispensation. He was sure that the national support enjoyed by the NRM would make it easy to win elections. After all, the traditional parties had been in limbo for two decades. Hence, Museveni successfully manipulated the NRM party structures and got re-elected as the flag bearer of the newly re-branded National Resistance Movement Organization (NRM-O) party for 2006 elections. Therefore, President Museveni has since 1996 been using political manipulations, patronage politics and neo-patrimonialism to entrench his personal power at the cost of democratization as elaborated in the proceeding section.
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Politics of manipulation, patronage and neo- patrimonialism
18 President Museveni’s determination to retain power in a pseudo democratic dispensation has culminated into many undemocratic practices. It has been driven by the motive to marshal enough political support in order to retain power. This objective has largely been achieved through different political maneuvers that have included manipulating the laws and processes of the political transition. A case in point is the attempt by President Museveni to undermine the independence of parliament so that it serves the vested interests of the NRM government. This process began with the creation of the NRM caucus in parliament in 1998. The main objective was to ensure that NRM parliamentarians (MPs) agree on a common position before engaging in parliamentary debates. Prior to this innovation, MPs engaged in parliamentary debates without their party’s encumbrances. The free and independent atmosphere gave an opportunity to parliament to check the executive and bring sanity to politics. A case in point was the parliamentary censuring of four corrupt NRM ministers. Nonetheless, President Museveni did not want a strong parliament because it would frustrate his political interests, the very reason he mooted the idea of forming the NRM caucus with a chief whip to navigate it along an agreed upon government position. The new approach has since given opportunity to the majority NRM members to influence the direction of parliamentary debates. However, the disadvantage with caucus politics has been the stifling of the independence and free thinking of NRM legislators. In circumstances where some NRM MPs have defied the NRM common position, President Museveni has threatened to withdraw support from them in the next elections.27 Therefore, the parliament has lost its significance as a pillar of democratic rule because of such manipulations.
19 The NRM government has also increasingly extended material and political support to its supporters at all levels of government. The nature of support has varied from job rewards to government contracts and political appointments.28 Similarly, the President has frequently promised to reward or rewarded areas that support his government with district statuses.29 Besides, the critical and outspoken NRM and non-NRM political aspirants have on various occasions been politically bought off in order to enhance the NRM’s support.30 A typical example is when NRM MPs were bribed to campaign against the freeing of parties in the 2000 referendum. A similar approach was successfully used to entice the NRM MPs to support the freeing of parties in the 2005 referendum. A more vivid example of NRM’s bribery tactics to manipulate the democratic process involved the amendment of the 1995 Constitution to lift presidential term limits. In this particular case, 223 out of 333 MPs were each given five million shillings to support the amendment of Article 269.31 Conversely, critics who want meaningful democratic change have been harassed and purged. Cases in point include the Young Parliamentarians Association (YPA) whose members resisted the executive’s influence on parliament and fought corruption in government by censuring four corrupt but powerful ministers.32 A closely related example is the dropping of four ministers in 2003 who were openly opposed to amending the constitution to lift presidential term limits in order to allow Museveni to have a third term.33 As a consequence of such manipulations, outcomes of parliamentary debates have increasingly been influenced to pursue interests of the NRM government.34
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20 Another clear manifestation of manipulative politics of the NRM is elections. The NRM government has at various times manipulated election laws in order to have an unfair advantage over the other political contestants. In other words, the level playing field has been lacking. Evidence of this started with the 1989 National Resistance Council (NRC) elections. In 1986, President Museveni promised Ugandans that he would rule for four years after which national elections would be held. However, only elections for members of NRC were held in 1989 though in a highly manipulative way. In order to ensure that President Museveni’s NRM had majority members in the NRC, elections were called at short notice. These elections were based on individual merit principle as opposed to party affiliation and did not allow open campaigning. Joint meetings were organized where candidates were only allowed to introduce themselves to voters. The law setting up the NRC was also manipulated to reserve nearly a quarter of the total seats (68 out of 280 seats) to be appointed by the president. These included 38 seats for NRM historical,35 20 NRC members and 10 more seats for NRA council (army). By successfully manipulating the composition of NRC, Museveni was able to retain his position of president without being subjected to elections.36 His term of office was extended for four more years on the pretext to complete the ongoing reforms such as the process of writing a new constitution that was supposed to pave way for transition to democratic rule, which was completed in 1995.
21 Related to the above example, the President always begins presidential campaigns before the designated period on the pretext that he is sensitizing people to fight poverty. Moreover, elections held under the NRM government in 1996, 2001 and 2006 have been afflicted by rampant acts of bribery. Money and material things were reported to have been extensively used to woe voters.37 Besides, the neutrality and independence of the Electoral Commission (EC) has become the subject of serious contention, more especially, where the EC commissioners are appointed by the president. This explains why it has been organizing disputed elections that are characterized by inflated voter numbers,38 faulty registers, insufficient civic education, and rigging39 to mention but a few. The major criticism is that the EC is a partisan body biased towards the NRM. These practices have not only marginalized the opposition but have made Uganda’s transition to democratic rule superficial.40
22 It should also be pointed out that Museveni’s determination to retain power has degenerated into militarization of politics.41 Not only has President Museveni kept a strong grip on security forces through appointing and promoting loyal cadres to top positions,42 but has also purged those insubordinate and disloyal to him. The ten army MPs are strictly supposed to toe the NRM line. This was exemplified when the two army MPs who stubbornly tried to toe an independent line were recalled and punished.43 The army is also frequently deployed during presidential elections purportedly to keep peace. However, critics argue that the purpose of deployment is to intimidate and harass voters to vote for the NRM since keeping law and order is a mandate of the Uganda police force. This may be true since some senior army officers occasionally threaten that they will not accept to be ruled by opposition leaders.44 Besides, some reports have documented acts of security forces being partisan and also engaging in political violence and intimidation during elections.45 The army’s involvement in Uganda’s politics has been exaggerated to the extent that it is represented in parliament, some army generals serve as ministers, civil servants and head the police force. All these cases among many others are a testimony of President Museveni’s personalization of the army46 and using it to entrench
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himself in power while growing intolerant to people with divergent political views. Hence, Uganda’s political transition can be rightly defined as illiberal democracy.47
23 Attempts have also been made to intimidate and manipulate the Judiciary to serve as a tool to further the interests of Museveni’s NRM but without much success. He has on various occasions criticized the judiciary for being corrupt and undermining his government especially where judges rule against the interests of government.48 Such controversies came out more vividly when Justice Kanyeihamba of the Supreme Court openly disagreed with the president about the role of peasants in determining the country’s destiny. Whereas Museveni argued that peasants should always be involved in deciding pertinent constitutional matters such as lifting the presidential term limits, Kanyeihamba differed in opinion citing the fact that peasants may not have the expertise and experience that is sometimes necessary and/or may be prone to government manipulations in reaching such vital decisions. The president became furious and threatened the judge.49 A related incident involved the High Court’s decision to give bail to suspected members of Dr. Kizza’s Forum for Democratic Change (FDC) who were accused of waging an armed rebellion against the government through the People’s Redemption Army (PRA). The High Court released them on bail since they had already spent more days in jail than those mandated by law. This infuriated government which re-arrested and placed new charges on them. Again, on suspecting that the High Court was going to release them on bail, government deployed military commandos who besieged the High Court.50 This action was intended to intimidate the judiciary and to refrain it from pursuing an independent line. It was a clear message to the judiciary that it should avoid antagonizing government positions.
24 Another case concerns the office of the Inspector General of Government (IGG), which was created to fight corruption and abuse of office. This is one of the institutions that were created but not given the necessary power to function effectively. The law creating this institution was drafted in such a way that made it a lame duck. Rather than make the institution independent and report to parliament, its head was appointed by and reported to the president. The IGG was also supposed to investigate cases of corruption and abuse of office after which the reports would be forwarded to the Director of Public Prosecution (DPP) to prosecute the culprits. This made the IGG’s office a paper tiger. Many of the cases of corruption and abuse of office involving high profile political leaders that were forwarded to the DPP have been either shelved or government has lost interest in them purportedly because of lack of sufficient supporting evidence.51
25 All these examples provide ample evidence of how president Museveni’s NRM government created institutions for advancing democratic governance for symbolic purposes. He was pretty aware that such institutions would legitimize his government domestically and before donors. Rather than promote democratization, these institutions have been systematically manipulated to promote vested political interests of Museveni and subsequently entrench him in power. The president prefers to work through informal networks of patronage and clientele networks to run government. These networks are generously rewarded52. One of the examples that can be cited is the president’s meeting with local leaders and notables from various parts of the country, which are held at his Rwakitura country home especially towards elections. Such meetings are alleged to be aimed at compromising them politically using material rewards and promises. A related example is the Entandikwa micro-credit scheme which was initiated by the NRM government in preparation for the 1996 elections. Over Shs
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9 billion was loaned to the poor all over the country. Each constituency was allocated Shs 30 million of which the beneficiaries were to be identified by local council officials. The LC structure was largely dominated by NRM-leaning councilors who passed on these funds to their supporters53. This money is strongly believed to have tilted the tide of support in favour of Museveni’s NRM during the 1996 elections. The above examples and other forms of neo-patrimonialism have been used by Museveni to build a support base that has been crucial for his personal entrenchment in power.
Explanations for donor indifference to Uganda’s flawed transition
26 It is also imperative to ask why donors who normally put a lot of pressure on other undemocratic African states have kept a blind eye on Museveni’s NRM regime. There are three main explanations for donor indifference. The first explanation is because the NRM government successfully implemented donor-sponsored economic reforms and has been showcased by donors as a star performer and model for other post-conflict African states. Besides, donors having injected substantial aid to Uganda, were hesitant to portray their experiment as a failure.54 Instead, they thought they would engage it and gradually change it. In other words, donors could not afford to disown their successful experiment. They believed, perhaps unwittingly, that with more reforms and some little pressure the regime would gradually democratize.
27 The second explanation is that President Museveni hoodwinked donors to believe that his government was indeed seriously implementing democratic reforms. He pursued a deceptive approach where his government slowly put in place formal democratic institutions and processes. Yet, these institutions and processes were for symbolic purposes since they were never given the necessary power to function effectively. Instead, President Museveni continued to rely on neo-patrimonialism that involves working through informal channels as opposed to mainstream formal institutions and processes.55 Therefore, this deception created an impression not only to the donors but also to the local political players that the country was on the right course to democratization. However, with time, it has become clear that President Museveni has been pursuing personal interests of entrenching himself in power at the expense of Uganda’s democratization.56 This scheme was exposed after 2001 elections when he pushed for the amendment of the constitution to drop the presidential term limits so that he gets a third term.
28 The third explanation is that donors were slow at pushing the NRM government to democratize because of strategic interests. Uganda was considered to be one of the very few “beacons of hope” in a region torn by civil and political strife. Many of the regional states such as Burundi, Rwanda, Congo and Sudan were engulfed in civil wars while Kenya was also experiencing intermittent civil strife especially in the rift valley area, which eventually exploded after the 2007 elections. The fact that the Uganda government was an oasis of relative stability in a region torn by conflict and its president being an ally of the West, convinced donors to opt for a softer approach.
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Implications of flawed democratic reforms
29 During the period 1986—1996, Museveni’s government created an impression that it was on a steady path to strengthen democratic institutions such as the army, judiciary, legislature, and local governments. Nonetheless, these institutions have ended up being used for propaganda purposes. They have not been enabled to perform their duties independently. Therefore, Museveni’s motive to retain power in a pseudo democratic dispensation has significant implications for Uganda’s political future.
30 The use of political manipulations such as bribery has dire consequences for Uganda’s democracy. It implies that people will no longer choose their leaders on merit. Besides, it is most likely to institutionalize corruption in government. Public officials who win elections through bribery will increasingly resort to corrupt behaviour in order to recoup what was invested in politics as well as accumulate more resources in preparation for future elections. The buying off of influential opposition members also negatively affects Uganda’s democratic prospects since the opposition will be weakened and hence unable to check excesses of the incumbent government as well as offer policy alternatives.
31 Museveni’s unwillingness to leave power, through political manipulations and personalization of power may negatively affect Uganda’s political stability. Personalization of power leads to authoritarianism and corruption that may reverse Uganda’s current gains. This is because as avenues for peaceful political engagements get closed, people who yearn for democratic change could resort to violent means to change government. In other words, as democratic avenues get closed, the possibility of coups, terrorism and guerrilla wars become the option. In the interest of stability, development and continuity, the political transition to democratic rule should not be sacrificed for personal interests. Instead emphasis should be put on institutionalization of Uganda’s politics, which helps to build consensus especially in the context of a multiethnic society underpinned by diverse and conflicting interests.
32 Moreover, Museveni’s politics of patronage and neo-patrimonialism may have negative consequences for the economy. Rather than use national resources for priority development programmes, they are instead wasted on rewarding loyalty, buying off opposition, bribing voters and investing in forces of coercion. It is evident that the NRM regime has opportunistically wasted scarce resources on forces of coercion and a blotted administrative apparatus to accommodate political supporters to the disadvantage of development.57 For instance, Museveni has 58 personal assistants and advisors, 58 in addition to his government’s bloated establishment of 69 ministers, 333 MPs and over 80 districts to mention a few. Despite calls by domestic and external forces to reduce the size of government, Museveni has ignored them because he is well aware that patronage politics necessitates such sacrifice.
33 Contrary to the neo-liberal assumptions that the implementation of political reforms would lead to democratization and good governance in Africa, the reverse has been the case. Instead, underlying the pseudo democratic reforms has been political manipulations, patronage and neo-patrimonial politics. The sponsors of these reforms are partly responsible for this negative development because they have portrayed double standards, especially where their actions have been overridden by their selfish national interests. In the case of Uganda, although the NRM frequently claims to have created the necessary conditions for democratization such as having the relevant laws, institutions
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and practices in place, it is still questionable whether this symbolism can be equated with democratization. It is not only a matter of having the formal-legal democratic institutions and processes in place, but these must be empowered and must be seen to function effectively. Besides, a conducive democratic climate must be guaranteed. Such an environment includes, but is not limited, to having fair and effective laws and institutions but also tolerance of divergent political views, political accountability, fairness of play and respect for each other. Given the absence of these important political principles, the democratization process in Uganda is at the crossroads.
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Gyezaho, Emmanuel (2004). “223 MPs got Shs 5M Cash.” The Monitor, November 16, 2004.
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Kaheru, Hamis (2004b). “Army to Remain in Politics.” The New Vision, July 8, 2004: 4.
Kalinaki, Daniel K. (2006). “How Votes were stolen in 2001.” Sunday Monitor, February 12, 2006: 1– 2.
Kasasira, Risdel, Nalugo, Mercy & Nalugo, Emmanuel (2008). “Land Bill: Museveni to Fail Dissenting MPs.” Daily Monitor, March 4, 2008: 1–2.
Kategaya, Eriya (2005). “Will the UPDF be Impartial During and After Kisanja.” Sunday Monitor, May 1, 2005: 7.
Kigambo, Gaaki (2005). “Is Museveni Deliberately Militarizing the Police?” Sunday Monitor, November 27, 2005: 14.
Mafabi, David & Mulumba, Badru D. (2004): “Museveni Vows to Fix Kanyeihamba.” The Monitor, March 22, 2004: 1–2.
Mao, Norbert (2005). “Cabinet Reshuffle is Victory of Loyalty over Competence.” Sunday Monitor, January 16, 2005: 7, 21.
Mao, Norbert (2004). “Rise and Decline of Young MPs.” The Weekly Observer, April 8, 2004.
Matsiko, Grace (2005a). “Political Calculations Guided the Latest Promotions in Military.” Sunday Monitor, February 6, 2005: 10.
Matsiko, Grace (2005b). “Museveni Offers Sh. 1b to Maj. Mutale’s KAP.” Sunday Monitor, February 20, 2005: 1–2.
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Monitor Team (2006). “Feb. 23 Rigging Makes my Heart Bleed—Cardinal.” Daily Monitor, April 17, 2006: 1–2.
Mugisa, Anne (2005). “Bogere to Face Army Council.” The New Vision, July 4, 2005: 1–2.
Mukose, Abubaker (2004). “Parliament Now Liberated, Says M7.” The New Vision, December 24, 2004: 1–2.
Mulondo, Emmanuel (2006). “NRM Kills Parliamentary Opposition in its Infancy.” Daily Monitor, May 31, 2006: 17, 36.
Mulondo, Emmanuel (2004). “NRM Losers get Appointments.” Daily Monitor, December 15, 2004: 5.
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Mulondo, Emmanuel & Nandutu, Agnes (2005). “House Approves 20 More Districts.” Daily Monitor, July 21, 2005: 3.
Mulumba, Badru D. (2005). “1 Million Ghosts on Voter Register.” The Monitor, March 29, 2005: 1–2.
Musoke, Cyprian & Namutebi, Joyce (2008). “Reduce Presidential Advisers, MPs.” The New Vision, September 3, 2008: 2.
Mutaizibwa, Emmy (2004). “High Command: Will Museveni ever Let go the Army?” Sunday Monitor, October 17, 2004: 16.
Mutumba, Richard & Natabaalo, Grace (2006). “Uganda’s Crisis Started with the Militarization of Politics.” Sunday Monitor, June 25, 2006: 16–17.
New Vision (2004). “Museveni Mad with Judges over Nullifying 2000 Referendum Act.” The New Vision, June 30, 2004: 20–21.
Nyakairu, Frank (2006). “2,400 New Poll Stations Trigger Fear of Rigging.” Daily Monitor, January 16, 2006: 1–2.
Olupot, Milton (2006). “Voters are 10.4 Million.” The New Vision, February 9, 2006: 1.
Olupot, Milton & Mukasa, Henry (2005). “MPs Approve Twenty New Districts.” The New Vision, July 21, 2005.
Ogoola, Justice James (2005). “Uganda Military Rapes the Temple of Justice.” Sunday Monitor, November 20, 2005: 28.
Osere, Emojong (2008). “Army will Not Allow ‘Bad People’ to Rule—Aronda.” Daily Monitor, September 1, 2008: 1 & 2.
Vision Reporter (2002). “Army Leads in Poll Violence.” The New Vision, May 27, 2002: 1.
NOTES
1. Karugire (1980). Also see Karugire (1988), Mutibwa (1992). 2. Sandbrook (1985). 3. Huntington (1991). 4. Joseph (1998); also see Zakaria, F. (1997). “The Rise of Illiberal Democracy.” Journal of Democracy 76 (6): 22–43. 5. Lancaster (1988). 6. Cammack (2007). 7. Mwenda & Tangri (2005). 8. Barkan et al. (2005). 9. World Bank (1996). 10. Museveni, Yoweri K. (1997). 11. Wiebe & Dodge (1987). 12. Schultheis (1975). 13. Kasfir (1983). 14. Bwengye (1985). 15. Watson (1994).
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16. Villadsen & Lubanga (1996). 17. Ddungu (1989). 18. Oloka-Onyango (2004). 19. Furley & Katalikawe (1997). 20. Apter (1995). 21. Bayart (1993). 22. Huntington (1993). 23. Mugyenyi (1991). 24. Oloka-Onyango (2004). 25. The principle of individual merit entails an individual standing for election to a political post on the basis of personal qualities as opposed to party backing. 26. Monitor Reporters (2005). 27. Kasasira et al. (2008). 28. Mulondo (2004). 29. Olupot & Mukasa (2005). Also see Mulondo & Nandutu (2005). 30. Mao (2005). 31. Gyezaho (2004). Also see Kaheru (2004a). 32. Mao (2004). 33. Tangri & Mwenda (2006). 34. Mukose (2004). 35. The NRM Historicals comprised of core cadres of the NRM during the guerrilla war. 36. Kasfir (1991). 37. Muhumuza (1997). 38. Mulumba (2005). Also see Nyakairu (2006), Olupot (2006). 39. Monitor Team (2006). Also see Kalinaki (2006). 40. Mulondo (2006). 41. Kigambo (2005); Kaheru (2004b); Kategaya (2005); Mutumba, & Natabaalo (2006). 42. Matsiko (2005a). 43. Mugisa (2005); Gyezaho (2005). 44. Osere (2008). 45. Republic of Uganda (2002). Also see Vision Reporter (2002). 46. Mutaizibwa (2004). 47. Zakaria (1997). 48. New Vision (2004). 49. Etengu (2004); Mafabi & Mulumba (2004). 50. Ogoola (2005). 51. Tangri & Mwenda (2006). 52. Matsiko (2005b). 53. Muhumuza (2007). 54. Hauser (1999).
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55. Callaghy (1987). 56. Amanyire & Basiime (2008). 57. Bifubyeka (2004). 58. Musoke, Cyprian & Namutebi, Joyce (2008). “Reduce Presidential Advisers, MPs.” The New Vision, September 3, 2008: 2.
INDEX
Geographical index: Uganda | Ouganda
AUTHOR
WILLIAM MUHUMUZA William Muhumuza (PhD) is an Associate Professor in the Department of Political Science and Public Administration, Makerere University, Uganda.
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The Challenge of Building Strong Political Parties for Democratic Governance in Uganda: Does multiparty politics have a future?
Sabiti Makara
Introduction
1 The purpose of this paper is to locate the function of political parties in democratic governance. It examines the problems encountered by political parties in the process of building and sustaining competitive political systems. It looks back at the conditions that have led to a resurgence of multiparty democracy in the last two decades and highlights the Ugandan case as a country that has emerged from a failed state to monopoly politics and to back to multipartyism. It points out that Uganda has not had a history of successful multiparty democracy. Political parties have had very limited opportunity to contribute positively to the process of democratic governance in the country. This explains why parties remain weak. They lack institutional support, an enabling political will and financial resources to facilitate their role in the transition to effective democratic politics. It is an attempt to answer the question: with the dominant party determined to retain power at all costs, can parties have a chance of influencing the course of democratisation in the country? To achieve this objective, the paper is divided in three parts. Part one reviews the literature and theoretical arguments regarding the functionality of political parties. Part two deals with the problems of democratisation Part three puts forward suggestions for making political parties more effective vehicles of democratic governance.
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Background to post-colonial politics in Uganda
2 Political parties are vital political institutions for the functioning of a modern democracy. They are essential for the organization of the modern democratic polity and are crucial for the expression and manifestation for political pluralism. Political parties are presumed to be central to the democratization of any state. Defined as an organization whose prime objective is to mobilize its supporters to assume a leadership role, a political party of any significance is viewed or views itself in terms of providing alternative policy platforms, ideological direction, as well as redefining the agenda of government.
3 In the Ugandan context, the Political Parties and Organizations Act (2005) defines a political party as “a political organization the objects of which include the influencing of the political process or sponsoring a political agenda, whether or not it also seeks to sponsor or offer a platform to a candidate for election to a political office or to participate in the governance of Uganda at any level.” In a liberal democracy, political parties perform the function of integrating individuals and groups in society into the political system.
4 Generally, political parties in Africa played a key role in the nationalist struggles against colonial rule. On attaining independence however, most of the ruling parties of the day either outlawed opposition parties, criminalized their activities or their contribution to national debate/policy were belittled and disparaged. After independence, most African rulers proclaimed one-party states Whether undermined by the civilian or the military, the consequences of diminishing the role of political parties in building democratic states and societies were disastrous. Dictatorship, authoritarianism, cronyism, corruption and economic collapse became rampant, leading to the ubiquity of collapsed or failed states in Africa. Despite the fact that competitive multiparty regimes governed well immediately after independence, this gain was short-lived as selfish post-colonial leaders abandoned the ethos of democratic pluralism. As some scholars have pointed out, most of the post colonial leaders in Africa chose to rule in a style similar to that of the colonial rulers by relegating the majority of the people and isolating the opposition groups. These tendencies sowed the seeds of authoritarian rule in Africa.1
5 Uganda was particularly affected by the postcolonial leadership that pursued zero sum politics. The country suffered the intolerance of one- partyism in the 1960s, the notorious and murderous military regime of Idi Amin in the 1970s as well as the unstable and strife- ridden government of the second Obote government in the 1980s. Since 1986 the National Resistance Movement (NRM) government has helped in rebuilding a semblance of democratic rule. Even then, there has been a deliberate campaign by some pro- government activists to castigate parties as devilish. Not only did the NRM blame parties for whatever went wrong in the country in the past, it also portrayed them as factionalist, divisive, and narrow based. This was in addition to the claim by the NRM that it was an alternative system to the party systems.2 In retrospect, the foundation for multiparty democracy that was laid at the time of independence has been dismantled. Whereas the liberal tradition perceives democracy as the right of the people to organise and choose their government through an institutionalized multiparty system,3 in Uganda, this is still viewed with suspicion by the political elite. Thus, for most of the post of the colonial period, parties were either banned or their activities disallowed by the governments of the day.
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6 In Uganda, the malaise of authoritarian rule and economic mismanagement was most felt during Idi Amin’s regime (1971—1979). Some scholars have lamented this period in the following words: “… perhaps of all sub Saharan countries-Uganda must take the dubious honour of being the country that experienced the widest range of misfortunes in the last two decades. During a regime of singular economic mismanagement and political repression, Amin reduced a once-prosperous country to one of the poorest in the world.”4
7 Indeed during the 1970s and the first half of the 1980s, life was short and brutal. Idi Amin’s nine year rule left a mark of terror on Uganda’s history. His was a state of blood.5
8 Idi Amin’s ascendance to power was a result of mistakes made by his predecessor, Milton Obote. The first post-colonial government of Milton Obote had weakened the opposition and scrapped the democratic constitution of 1962 replacing it with a hastily drafted constitution of 19666. This resulted in stifling opposition groups, abolition of kingdoms and gravitation towards one-partyism. The post- Amin period can be characterised as a period of instability. Not only was the Uganda People’s Congress (UPC) government accused of rigging the 1980 elections, there was insurgency in most parts of the country and the economy was faring poorly.7 In short, Uganda’s post-colonial history has essentially lacked democratic governance. The environment necessary for building a culture of multiparty politics has not been conducive.
9 The purpose of this paper is to underscore the importance of democracy, the role of political parties in the growth and sustainability of democracy and the need to facilitate political organisations and groups to cultivate democracy in society. In particular, we focus on the modalities of financing political parties to play their democratic role. We address the question of whether public financing of political parties enhances their capacity to play a more meaningful role in deepening democracy in the Ugandan society.
Conceptualization of political parties
10 The contribution of political parties to the growth and practice of democracy has been a contested phenomenon, right from the time of Athenian democracy to the time of American independence. In the ancient Greek democracy, political parties had no role. In the American constitutional democracy the debate was whether parties should be allowed or nor allowed. The dominant view was anti-parties as summed up by the words of President George Washington here below: Let me now… warn you in the most solemn manner against the baneful effects of the spirit of party generally… It serves always to distract public councils and enfeeble the public administration. It agitates the community with ill-founded jealousies and false alarms; [it] kindles the animosity of one part against another…8
11 Of the new democracies, America is unique in two aspects, first its early struggles for democratic governance and indeed its first constitutional governments were not based on party systems. This explains why parties are not part of the American constitution. On the other hand, it boasts of one of the oldest surviving multiparty systems of government. The question to pause is why were the founding fathers of the American democracy sceptical about the utility of political parties in a democracy? George Washington and others believed that parties were enemies of democracy as they divided people along unprincipled and selfish interests which could have injured the unity of their young
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nation. In spite of such perspectives, political parties emerged naturally in the United States.9 Some of the modern writers on political parties have argued that political parties promote an oligarchy instead of popular democracy. Robert Michels is noted for his so- called iron law of oligarchy: “[A party] is an organisation which gives birth to the domination of the elected over the electors, of the mandataries over the mandators, of the delegates over the delegators. Who says organisation says oligarchy.”10
12 Michels based his sociological argument on the idea that organised minorities tend to dominate unorganised majorities. That is why large crowds are usually unable to make effective decisions.11
13 More recent writers on political parties believe that parties are inevitable for a democracy to work.12 Apter conceives political parties as instruments of modernisation in developing polities. He argues that “the political party is such a critical force for modernisation in all contemporary societies that the particular pattern of modernisation adopted by each is quite often determined by its parties.”13 Apter stresses further that the genesis of political parties is difficult to disentangle from the evolution of societies and states. Parties therefore depend upon the degree of modernisation in society for their pluralism and diversity. In a similar argument along the modernisation continuum, Huntington sees political parties as modicums of political assimilation, consciousness and participation produced by the process of modernisation. To him, political parties produce a stable balance between participation and institutionalisation of modern politics.14 In this regard, parties are seen as important for organising the modern structures of power, encouraging participation, minimising a likelihood of political instability and enhancing proper governance of a modern state. Huntington’s thesis is that a society which “develops reasonably well organised political parties while the level of political participation is still relatively low….is likely to have a less destabilising expansion of politicalparticipation than a society where parties are organised later in the process of modernisation.”15 This raises the all important question of citizen participation. Almond and Verba make a very interesting distinction between citizen and subject. While a citizen is perceived in terms of his civic roles that is, in terms of his effective participation in governance as well as questioning certain policies, a subject does not participate in making rules nor does s/he seek to influence policy outcomes.16 In other words, the level of civic responsibility possessed by a citizen assumes that s/he is free to participate in any organisation that makes it possible for him or her to influence government processes. Therefore, political parties play a significant role in interest articulation as well as interest aggregation, hence influencing the policy agenda of government. In less developed countries parties play an important role of national integration through the function of representation of various groups at national and sub- national levels.17 In the particular case of Sub- Saharan Africa, Coleman 18 noted that parties were held together by the cement of fighting for self-government from the colonial rulers. The subsequent post-colonial years witnessed a rapid emergence of dominant parties. Thus while in other areas, parties played a strong integrative role, this was only successful in a handful of African countries. Possibly, the presumptive anti-party sentiments amongst the political elites in most African countries could be a result of this “false start”.
14 Whether the political elites like parties or not, by levying accusations against them such as promoting corruption, spurring conflict and causing instability; it appears that such vices do not override Duverger’s assertion that “a regime without parties is of necessity a
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conservative regime”.19 Generally, parties are notable for mobilising and socialising the public for political purposes. They operate as vehicles for articulation and aggregation of diverse social interests in society; recruit political elites by nominating and selecting candidates for public offices, influence government agenda, policies, and public actions; cause governments to act more transparently and accountable for their actions; and propose alternative policy agenda.
15 Political parties are important ingredients in building democracy. Parties are vehicles for strengthening the electoral systems and processes. They are the means for strengthening accountability institutions especially the parliament. They strengthen the partnership with civil society organizations. They mobilize disadvantaged groups such as women, the people with disabilities, and the youth to actively participate in public decision making. Parties have a continuous engagement with the government in all matters of public concern. Most importantly, they hold the government accountable for its policies and actions. Dominant regimes however will find means of suppressing political parties, claiming that the dominant party or no-party state has the means for mobilising the population for development purposes which opposition political parties would only be keen to subvert.20 Huntington however dismisses this argument by arguing that the progress of modernisation increases the fragility of the no-party state and that the stability of the modern political system depends on the strength of its political parties because it is the parties which have institutionalised means of mobilising support, hence political stability.21 To this extent, the opponents of political parties acknowledge that they are essential for democratic governance. However, they rarely accept their idea of pluralistic competition for power. In Africa particularly, the dominant political forces take politics to be a job for life and are unwilling to allow other organisational forms that may question the status quo.
The resurgence of democracy
16 While it is evident that democracy was under decline since the mid 1960s, there has been a realisation that democracy does not have a quick-fix alternative. Apter has vividly noted: “In so far as there is widespread consensus that democracy is the best available political system, most comparative political enquiry shows a concern with democracy: how to realise it, sustain it, adapt and improve it and how to deal with threats to its survival both from within and without.”22
17 For this purpose it is useful to capture a precise definition of democracy. “Modern political democracy is a system of governance in which rulers are held accountable for their actions in the public realm by citizens, acting indirectly through the competition and cooperation of their elected representatives.”23
18 Democracy can be distinguished from other forms of government by the method through which the rulers access power, their institutionalised mechanisms of checks and balances and accountability. Non-democratic regimes are characterised by the restrictions they impose on participation. Democratisation in the world today may be captured in Huntington’s “third wave”. He attributes the timing and growth of the transition to democracy to five factors: • “The legitimacy crisis of the authoritarian regimes • The strong economic growth of the 1960s
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• The rise of church based opposition to authoritarian regimes • The change of attitude among the super powers, and • The emergence of model democracies and their “snowball effects.”24
19 The world-over, the 1990s saw the resurgence of neo-liberal democracy, characterized by the collapse of former communist states, one-party states and quasi-military regimes ushering in multiparty politics. According to Bratton and van de Walle, by the mid-1990s a good number of single party or quasi military governments had embraced multipartyism. 25 These changes were accompanied by popular demand for good governance. Despite the resurgence of multipartyism, popular representation and political pluralism which came with activism and proliferation of civil society organizations; several African states including Uganda succeeded in dodging this “third wave” of democratization.26 The move towards democratization in some African countries did not prevent the state from abusing power to deny the people of their liberties, human rights and freedoms. In particular, opposition politics was either circumscribed or brutally suppressed. While liberal scholars were busy celebrating the “end of history”27 the undemocratic category of states in Africa entrenched repressive dominant state parties or ‘movements.’ Such movements initially tend to ride on populism but as this wanes, they narrow down to patronage, cliques and corruption.
20 While there can be no doubt that modern democracies need political parties to make them work and that political parties are indispensable to any regime that claims some credentials of democratic governance; in emerging democracies, political parties are perceived as a threat to the power of the ruling elite. The predicament however is that such rulers find out that the state without parties has no institutional means of generating change and absorbing the impact that such a change can cause.28 Parties are therefore perceived as vehicles for expression of citizens’ preferences. In that regard, they serve the critical functions of democratic delegation and accountability. Delegation is important because the sovereignty of the citizens is delegated to political parties to articulate their preferences. This is because in a representative democracy, while the citizens are the governors and determinants of their destiny, they are not active governors and their actions are not homogenized except through organized groups such as political parties. This therefore requires that in building a democratic society, there is need for good citizens and good politicians. However, this may not always be the case. For that matter, benchmarks need to be built to ensure democratic accountability.
21 Democratic accountability is essential because political parties are not always trusted by the citizens. Politicians tend to be corrupt and to exhibit inappropriate and unethical behaviour. Sometimes, parties have preferences that are not consistent with those of the citizens. Hence they abrogate their responsibility of being representative and accountable to the citizen. Some parties tend to be dominated by personalities who at times become law unto themselves. In Africa this has translated into what is termed as “strongman regimes”29 For these to survive in power, they tend to practice some forms of authoritarian rule. Part of their scheme is to undercut the viability of alternative power centres and to entrench systems of patronage.30
22 Understanding why State political parties monopolise power
23 In Uganda, Obote advanced the view that for the sake of national unity, the fight against poverty, disease and ignorance, it was necessary to establish a one-party system instead of the factional and tribal groupings that characterised political parties. It was further
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argued by Obote that organised opposition to government was a “typical capitalist” notion yet they had “… rejected capitalism once and for all.”31 Obote added that his government was firmly convinced that a one- party state does not in any way prevent expression of individual opinion and constructive criticism.32
24 Issa Shivji asserts that monopoly of politics in the manner it happened in several African countries, and specifically in Tanzania under Chama Cha Mapinduzi (CCM) revolves around four interrelated aspects.33 First it means that no organised political or political activity can be permitted outside the state-party. So, all “mass organisations”—trade unions, cooperatives, students, women and youth organisations, and even football clubs and cultural troupes—are brought under the control of the state-party. This is followed by destruction of autonomous and organised expression in civil society. The second method of monopolising politics is to discourage criticism; by branding it “a few disgruntled elements,” “unpatriotic elements”, “detractors,” etc. The third one is the cumulative effect of the first two. This is the development of a closed society. Openness, one of the most important ingredients of an open society suffers. Popular subconscious teaches the people to set their own limits of expression through self censorship. All this leads to the following evils: arbitrariness, intrigues, nepotism, favouritism, and political sycophancy. The fourth effect of the monopoly of politics is ideological. This generates a political culture of intolerance which expects and actively solicits unanimity of views. This is the most subtle yet profoundly prejudicial to democracy.
25 Most of the opponents of parties accuse them of being divisive, which complicates the task of national unity and modernisation. They therefore advocate for no-party or one party system.34 Most of these dominant parties emphasise “developmentalism” that is, a situation where it is claimed that development should come before democracy.35 This however manifests strong elements of domination by the ruling oligarchy whereby the contribution of other social forces in society is negatively perceived either as subversive or retrogressive. Criticism is perceived as diversionary. However, historically economic development has always succeeded where democracy has had a chance to grow. It has been argued that democracy requires development if it is to be relevant to the daily livelihoods of the people.36 Conversely, development without democracy is unsustainable.
26 The durability of democracy is assumed to originate from a constitutional order. However, dominant state parties tend to undermine constitutionalism. It may be noted that the failure of constitutionalism in Africa is not a result of lack of popular constitutions but of governments seeking to escape from constraints imposed by constitutions. Instead personal rule in Africa has become a norm. One scholar has observed. Where there is, in fact, the potential to resist arbitrary rule, either society is not sufficiently organised politically to challenge it, or the political and legal institutions are too weak in the quality of their personnel and in their political support from society, to resist or counter balance the executive power.37
27 Executive power in Africa is overwhelming partly because the leaders do not believe in constitutional rule or those provisions that limit their powers. At the same time institutions of representation simply become what is termed as “rubber stamps.” Okoth Ogendo38assessing African political elites observes a paradox in their commitment to constitutionalism and their emphatic rejection of classical principles of liberal democracy. Such a paradox produces the conditions where the political elite in Africa believe that instead of controlling a government, the constitution is there to serve
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government, leaving a room for manipulation. For example, Julius Nyerere, the late Tanzanian president is quoted to have said “We do not intend that the people of Tanzania should serve the Constitution.”39 This implies little faith in constitutionalism. This may be a result of the legacy of colonialism and perpetuation of coloniality. As Ake Claude40 has observed, the absence of democracy in Africa can be attributed to two fundamental factors: the first was the colonial legacy where the discourse excluded not only democracy but even the idea of good government. The second was attitudinal; where the African leaders, after independence decided to take over the colonial system instead of transforming it in accord with the aspirations of the people. As a result of this disjunction, most of the African political elite found themselves on a collision course with their people. Fearful of the people, the elites did a lot to discourage opposition. The elites argued, for example, that “the problems of development demanded complete unity of purpose.” 41 This was followed by criminalisation of political dissent and the inexorable march to monolithism. Most one-party systems in Africa were a result of the continuing monopoly of influence exercised by nationalist parties, that were built around and served as instruments of a single dominant personality for example, in Kenya, KANU under Kenyatta and in Tanzania, CCM under Nyerere.42
28 According to Coleman, nationalist parties were to face the challenge of the opposition parties after independence. Nationalist struggles for independence were the only cement keeping these desperate groups together. During the nationalist struggles disunity was condemned or considered treasonous. With self-government at hand, political rivalry and competition were to be expected and in principle accepted as part of the norms of a democratic system. However, as self-government approached, dominant parties also became assailable because they were unable to produce all the promises they made or the personalities of their founders were questioned. Dominant parties became increasingly bureaucratised and less sensitive to the claims of new groups entering the political arena, and tensions among factions and cliques in top leadership ranks became apparent and virulent.
29 As a response to emergent dissenting tendencies, the dominant parties absorbed threats by use of patronage, reorganisation of local governments and state structures in order to further central government and party control as well as use of coercion to deal with recalcitrant forces. With this in mind, dominant parties were able to stigmatise opposition parties as being not only unnecessary but also dangerous in the pursuit of unrealised goals of modernisation.43 If state parties did not outlaw opposition parties, they created conditions that made it difficult for them to operate in such a way as to compete favourably for power. Such conditions included denying them the right to address assemblies, to publish their views, to convene delegates’ conferences and to raise funds to support their activities. In some cases they were denied opportunity of nominating candidates for elections.
30 Further analysis of political parties reveals that it is not only funding that undermines the efficacy of their operations. Other factors are also influential. In particular, ethnic cleavages, religious affinities, and class-based dominance have crippled the work of political parties as drivers for democratic governance. These not only subvert the project of building strong social bases but also, promote clientelist politics, extensive patronage; hence lack of transparency in public policy and clean governance.44 These weaknesses however, do not diminish the relevance of political parties in sustaining the struggle for
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democracy. The enemies of democracy are not fair to cash on the weaknesses of parties to wreck the possibility of building democratic states based on multiparty politics.
Political parties and the democratization process in Uganda
31 Like in many African countries, the post-independence period in Uganda was characterised by the tendencies towards monopoly politics whereby the incumbent UPC government made all attempts to undermine political pluralism. Therefore, multiparty democracy was short-lived.
32 The failure of multiparty democracy in Uganda is responsible for the political malaise that the country has suffered in the post-colonial era. Other countries that sustained tolerance of democratic pluralism have tended to enjoy political stability and economic progress. It appears fallacious to argue, as some authors have done, that multiparty politics is responsible for sectarian divisions and lack of progress in society.45 Evidence is abundant which shows that in Uganda the most prosperous period was that of the immediate post-colonial government when multiparty politics thrived46. Not only was there economic well-being and accountability in government, social service delivery was efficient and effective. It was after Obote abrogated the constitution in 1967, suspended elections and made moves towards one-party state that bad times began in the country. These were the reasons advanced by Idi Amin to overthrow Milton Obote in a military coup in 1971.47
33 The chances of harnessing multiparty democracy were further thrown out of the window during Idi Amin’s military regime (1971–1979) where military officers and marshal law were the order of the day. Under that regime there were no traces of democracy or any forms of citizen participation in governance. Instead, the regime is accused of mass murders, systemic repression and deliberate elimination of any citizen suspected of holding views contrary to those of the regime.48 Nevertheless, the overthrow of Idi Amin in 1979 by a combined force of Ugandan exiles and Tanzanian defence forces and installation of the Uganda National Liberation Front (UNLF) produced more confusion rather than a stable government.49 The subsequent elections based mainly on competition between the two old parties—Uganda Peoples Congress (UPC) and Democratic Party (DP) and two other minor parties—Uganda Patriotic Movement (UPM) and Conservative Party (CP); were not able to produce conditions for political stability. First, the 1980 elections were considered as extremely rigged by the pro-UPC Military Commission and the Electoral Commission that organized them.50 Thus, although the elections were organised as multi-party elections, the contestation produced conditions that led to a prolonged five year civil war (1981—1986) that not only devastated normal livelihoods but also led to loss of several thousand innocent lives and crippled the economy. Thus the second Obote regime was very unstable and unable to govern effectively. This is sometimes used as an excuse to demonise multiparty rule.
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The National Resistance Movement and the banning of party activities
34 The successful capture of state power in 1986 by Yoweri Museveni’s National Resistance Army/Movement (NRA/M) began from a point of undermining the role of political parties. Legal Notice No. 1 of 1986 banned the activities of political parties. It claimed that political parties had not been banned. However, the law barred parties from holding delegates’ conferences, opening party branches, sponsoring candidates, recruiting of membership and displaying of party colours. If this did not mean banning of parties, then one would wonder what else it was. The contradiction is that at the same time the NRM was doing exactly what it prohibited the parties to do—mobilising the masses for political support. At the beginning, these measures appeared temporary, as if intended to give the new regime time to create conditions for stability and sobriety. However, the temporary measures turned into a permanent ban on party activities when they were reproduced in the draft constitution in 1993, and later entrenched in the new Constitution of 1995. These measures crippled the dynamic functionality of political parties.
35 The contradictions underlying the intentions of the NRM towards political parties became more apparent when the NRM was not only entrenched in the new Constitution of 1995 (Article 71). This article provides for the Movement as an alternative system to political parties. Under Article 269 the activities of political parties were to remain banned until such a time when a referendum would be held to decide either way.51 The new constitution therefore legitimised the Movement and kept political parties in the cold. Any attempts by some party activists to protest the ban were met with serious state repressive measures and the organizers were harshly dealt with.
36 The Movement tapped political resources by exploiting the advantages of incumbency and constitutional privilege to recruit political support. It was free to use state resources for its political purposes, to dispense patronage and to penetrate society. While the constitution explicitly disallows establishment of a one party state, the Movement which claimed to be non-partisan, all-inclusive, and broad-based, acted and operated in all manner like a quasi one-party state. Not only was the Movement Secretariat budgeted for and financed from the Consolidated Fund, its cadres and officials were also paid salaries and facilitated from state coffers. The movement appointed government—paid Resident District Administrators and their assistants in all districts of Uganda. It created local councils (LCs) throughout the country which in their routine activities doubled as local government structures as well as Movement structures.52 These structures run from the village to the district level. While serving as local government structures, they are also presumed, and do act as Movement structures. Recent studies have shown that despite the unbanning of political parties, these structures have remained beholden to the NRM making it relatively difficult for other parties to penetrate the grassroots.53 Under the movement system, the state also financially supported mchaka mchaka (cadre training) schools. To dispense patronage, the President keeps a large number of political advisers. The Movement also organised several elections at the local and national levels. Although the democratic credentials of these elections have been at the centre of the democratisation debate in Uganda, they were able to bring about a semblance of democratic competition at the local level but not at the national level where the strongman tendencies remained unchallenged. Any attempts by some politicians to
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challenge Museveni at elections were castigated as past leaders who had caused suffering of Ugandans.54
Conditional return to multipartyism in Uganda
37 By the end of the 2001 elections, two trends were very clear. First, Museveni had had a competitor for the presidency; Dr Kizza Besigye who challenged him from within the Movement. This followed controversy as to whether Museveni could be challenged from within the Movement. Secondly, the elections had been fought on very bitter grounds with the state unleashing violence as part of the strategy for Museveni to win elections; which he did amidst controversy. The Report of the Select Committee of Parliament on Election Violence55 documents cases of state inspired violence against Museveni’s opponents. In the judgement of the election petition filed by Besigye against Museveni, four of the seven judges of the Supreme Court ruled that although the election had been marred by violence and breach of rules, these were not sufficient enough to annul Museveni’s victory. These two developments tended to divide the Movement within its ranks.
38 Furthermore, it appeared that by the time Museveni stood for the 2001 elections there had already been disagreements within the top ranks of the Movement (The Monitor, 25 November 2000). This explains why Museveni pledged in his 2001 election manifesto that he was standing for the last term to put in place mechanisms for an orderly leadership succession (Museveni’s 2001 Manifesto). In his declaration Museveni asserted as follows: “When President Museveni completes his second and final term as directly elected president, the Movement under his leadership, will for the first time in the history of our country, have created legacy of an orderly leadership succession” (Museveni’s 2001 Manifesto: 9). Although Museveni went to the polls with this promise, his NRM historicals had anticipated that he would leave after serving his term. Simultaneously, foreign donors had been quietly pressing Museveni for political reforms. It is appears however that it was Museveni’s strategic calculation to retain power that he started the process of unbanning parties.
39 On December 18, 2001 the national executive committee of the Movement appointed an ad hoc committee to examine the performance of the movement system. The committee submitted its report in April 2002. Its major recommendation was opening for political pluralism. It noted that though the Movement had made several achievements since 1986, it also had internal weaknesses. Such weaknesses included declining ideological commitment, increase in corrupt behaviour and lack of discipline amongst its cadres. It was plainly pointed out that the all-inclusive nature of the Movement was providing opportunity to some opponents to undermine the Movement from within. It was therefore recommended that the Movement be reconstituted into a party, and space be opened for multiparty politics. This position was supported with two arguments. The first move was to let the opponents of the Movement form their own organisations and leave the Movement alone. This was termed as mubaleke bagende (let the opponents go). The second argument was that political pluralism was a world trend therefore, Uganda could not be exceptional.56
40 While the NRM historicals were content with reforming the NRM from within, they had little idea as to what was in Museveni’s mind. This was to be revealed at the national executive committee meeting which met on March 3, 2002. At that meeting two issues were brought up for debate namely; the question of opening up political space and the question of amending the constitution to remove the term limits.
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41 Whereas the first issue had been seen as part of the normal business, the second issue took most of the members by surprise. The sponsors of the amendment of Article 105 (2) of the Constitution led by Adjumani District Woman MP, Jessica Eriyo argued that it would not be prudent for the NRM to open the political space to pluralism and remove the sitting president at the same time. The argument was that the Constitution should be amended to allow Museveni to stand again. This was the beginning of what came to known as kisanja (third term). In other words, while multipartyism became Museveni’s political priority in the post 2001 period, it was more of a self-serving measure than a genuine conviction on the NRM administration to work towards greater democratisation of the state.
42 Events leading to the 2006 elections demonstrated Museveni’s determination to retain power. In 2003 he sacked five of his cabinet ministers who were opposed to his desire to amend the Constitution in respect of Article 105 (2). In 2005 he spearheaded the campaign in referendum to open up for multipartyism. In October 2005 again, the NRM leaning MPs were “bribed” with Shs 5 million each to vote in Parliament for the removal of presidential term limits from the Constitution. By the end of 2005 Museveni had secured his two political goals. The Constitution had been amended to allow the President unlimited legibility. Multipartyism had been restored. Thus while his critics castigated him for being power hungry, others viewed him positively as a person who had restored competitive politics. Nevertheless, the experiences of the 2006 elections showed that little had changed in the way the Movement and Museveni treated their opponents. A recent study57 has demonstrated that “once the decision was made to move away from the Movement system to a system of competing parties, the NRM sought to minimise the likelihood of losing power to its competitors.”
43 Such an objective was achieved by several methods. Museveni and NRM were able to exploit the advantages of incumbency such as using facilities attached to the presidency for the campaign. The Electoral Commission was unable to fully follow the electoral law and was accused of favouring candidate Yoweri Museveni. The government was also accused of bringing trumped up charges of terrorism and rape in courts of law and in the court martial against Museveni’s main opponent, Kizza Besigye. Although Besigye was finally exonerated in the rape case, he had already gained poor public image and lost a lot of campaign time. Moreover, in the treason case Besigye had been granted bail so that he could campaign but a paramilitary force known as Black Mamba, invaded the court, had him re-arrested and jailed in an incident that Justice Ogoola termed as the Rape of the Pearl. At the end of the polls, Besigye again petitioned the Supreme Court on election results. Surprisingly, a judgement similar to that of 2001 was pronounced, that although the Electoral Commission failed to follow the law on several counts, still that was not enough to annul the results. Therefore, while Uganda might be proud to have 33 registered political parties, the difference they can make on the quality of politics still remains questionable.
Readiness of state institutions to accommodate multiparty politics
44 Political parties returned to Uganda’s political scene after 20 years of being in the cold. Political parties are supposed to be champions of political freedom and advocates for
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people’s rights. The question to be posed is whether the Ugandan state and its institutions have the will to promote a new political dispensation brought about by multipartyism.
45 The NRM under the Movement system was used to enjoying all the political space alone. The reintroduction of multipartyism is somewhat perceived as an obstruction of that abundant political space. This may explain the post 2006 political conduct of several state institutions towards opposition political parties and their activities. While the NRM government had allowed civil society organisations to proliferate and to conduct their business freely, there has been increasing intolerance of the activities of political parties. In the past such activities were disallowed because they were banned under the law. The irony is that the state in Uganda wants to behave in the same way it did before multipartyism was allowed. For example, the army which pays personal loyalty to the president is quoted to have asserted that “the army will not allow bad characters to take power from the NRM” adding that “the people who are going to operate our guns [must be] politically right.”58 Such comments do not augur well for a country that has moved from militarism to multiparty democracy.
46 Equally, the Police in Uganda has earned itself the image of a repressive force. Using the colonial law of regulating assemblies, the police have been vigorously involved in violation of freedom of association and assembly. Opposition rallies have routinely been blocked and demonstrations violently dispersed. The increasingly common excuse for prohibiting lawful assemblies is that they disrupt business in the city centre of Kampala. This justification cannot withstand considering that pro-NRM assemblies are never dispersed. The police dispersed a Democratic Party rally at Mpigi on January 26, 2007, when there was no business to disrupt, since it was a public holiday. Disruptions always a result of police interference in otherwise, peaceful assemblies, indiscriminately using tear gas, water cannons, batons and even live bullets on unarmed civilians.
47 In a petition filed in court by Muwanga Kivumbi, a DP activist to the Constitutional Court, he argued that police had boundless powers that were in contravention of the freedoms of equality, expression, movement, and assembly. However, the Attorney General Khiddu Makubuya countered that Police have every right to allow or prohibit public rallies arguing that it was mandatory for Ugandans to seek written permission from the Police before holding an assembly and that government was not in agreement with some of the views contained in the court judgement and would therefore challenge it. Makubuya in his communication cites Article 212, which mandates Police to prevent and detect crime as, and when there is ample ground to suspect that criminal activity might take place. More so, Article 212 read together with Article 43 allows restrictions on the enjoyment of fundamental rights and freedoms in public interest. The court however rejected the argument by the Attorney General asserting that Article 20 of the Constitution stipulates that fundamental rights and freedoms of the individual are inherent and not granted by the State. The court noted that for the police to evoke Article 43 to limit individual freedoms the grounds for such limitations must be sufficiently important and they should not be arbitrary, unfair or based on irrational considerations.
48 Police powers have always been exercised whenever opposition parties stage rallies. For example, on November 18, 2006, police used tear gas to disperse Forum for Democratic Change (FDC) party leader Dr. Kiiza Besigye and his supporters, who had gathered at the Constitutional Square in Kampala where FDC was supposed to launch its party cards. Confronting Besigye, the Kampala Extra Regional Police Commander, Grace
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Turyagumanawe, said: “I asked him (Besigye) to respect the concerns of Kampala traders who wrote and said that political party activities disrupt their business.”59 Complaining later about the incident, Besigye retorted “if NRM wants to rule as a single party state, they should do so formally, but as long as we are a registered party we shall do everything in our power to assemble and demonstrate.”60
49 Police has however not been deterred by the recent Constitutional Court ruling suspending sections of the Police Act that require organisers of assemblies to ask permission of the Inspector General of Police. On Saturday 7 June, 2008 police battled DP youth, raided the party’s head office at City House, and arrested its members to prevent them from holding a rally. The party claimed that the assembly was to celebrate a recent constitutional court ruling nullifying a section of the Police Act. Why would Police stop the rally before it had actually convened? Dr. Ruhakana Rugunda, the Minister of Internal Affairs, defending the police actions argued that in dealing with public demonstrations, the objective of the NRM government was to democratise the country to ensure that there is a disciplined state where citizens’ rights are not violated. The contradiction, however, is that in the past twenty years under the NRM government, no assembly called by the NRM organisers has ever been interrupted, banned or stopped by Police. In other words, one may infer that the Police have been targeting opposition groups.
50 Much more recently, there was the controversial arrest of Hon. Nabilah Naggayi the woman MP for Kampala District and member of the opposition FDC on a routine tour of her constituency. On June 10, 2008 the legislator was educating vendors in Owino Market on how to use a suggestion box as a means to get their views reach her so that she could articulate them in Parliament. The Police violently arrested her for holding an “illegal assembly.” Narrating her ordeal to Parliament she said she was surprised to be told that she was under arrest for holding an illegal rally. In an emotional narrative she claimed “I was almost stripped naked by uniformed Police officers led by the officer in charge of the New Taxi Park Police post AIP Babigamba.”61 She further claimed that she was severely beaten, coerced by the Police to sit on the floor of the Police Post, and that during the arrest a metallic case tore through her blouse and cut her back, exposing her inner dresses. Similarly, Hon. Nampijja Lukyamuzi MP for Rubaga South (Conservative Party) had her rally dispersed by police using tear gas at Kitebi Primary School where she had organized a bicycle rally in her constituency on June 7, 2008. Defending the actions of the Police, the Minister of Internal Affairs again argued that the MP had organised a rally without informing the Police hence there were no traffic or crowd control measures to guide the rally.
51 The discussion above highlights the predicament of opposition politics in Uganda. The acts of the state seem to portray a picture of a regime that is not prepared to compete for power. The critical question is: if a Member of Parliament is prohibited from addressing a rally in his/her constituency, how else is he/she supposed to mobilise support? It is more disturbing given the fact that the Constitutional Court has pronounced itself on this matter and above all, the country is now governed under a multiparty political system.
NRM’s determination to hold on to power
52 In 1986 when the NRM took power, the argument advanced by its leader, Yoweri Museveni was that the main problem causing underdevelopment in Africa was the African leaders who sought to stay in power indefinitely.62 Surprisingly after 23 years of
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staying in power, the Constitution has been changed for him to contest and possibly stay in power as long as he wishes. The question that arises is: what has caused his change of heart?
53 Speaking on his tour of eastern Uganda, in August 2008, President Museveni said that he was in good health and capable of ruling for many more years. He asked the people rhetorically: “Why should NRM lose elections?” Museveni told a rally on August 16, 2008 at Apuuton Primary School grounds in Katakwi. “We are the ones who restored democracy in Uganda. Who else should win in this country? Do you see me as somebody who is about to collapse? ” he added.63 Having stayed in power for 23 years now he is already planning for a fourth term. He had confirmed earlier that he would run for a fourth term of office.64 Such revelations follow his earlier comments at Mungonya in Bushenyi District where he was reported to have said in Runyankore “Ninye nahiigire enyamaishwa yangye nkagiita, mbwenu ngende nzehi?”—he hunted his animal; now he is being told to go; go where?65 Basically Museveni was saying that he fought for power and had a legitimate reason to keep it. More recently, Museveni who is quoted to have declared that he will become 65 by September 2009 said I saw people knocking themselves over leadership when I am still around. I said these are going to kutomeza (crash) the revolution ushered in by the NRM. So I decided to hang around… if somebody brings ffujo (chaos) near me I won’t rusht o call for help. Tutandikirawo (we start immediately) and by the time my army comes to assist I would already be handling the enemy66.
54 This implies that he is determined to keep power, leaving little space for other political players. Again Museveni was recently quoted to have said: “I have no time for opposition… I am an extremist. There is no doubt about that. I don’t have two sides. You are not on our side politically—out.”67
55 While Museveni has shown determination to keep power, other sections of society may seem to feel that the NRM has overstayed. The problem however is that both within the NRM and in the opposition alternative strong leaders have not emerged. In the opposition ranks confusion is rife. In the NRM corruption is rampant. These two weaknesses leave Museveni without a strong contender for his seat. Some opinions have tended to suggest that Museveni is grooming his own son to take over power. For example the Secretary General of the NRM is reported to have said “When he retires (Museveni) all of us will go… The younger generation will have become of age.”68 But when Museveni was asked during his visit to the USA on the question of his son succeeding him he replied “I’m grooming all of them to continue the torch forward… There are elections. Those faces whether they are the same or different they are elected by the population.”69
56 In discussing the role of political parties in democratising society, it has been noted that in societies such as Uganda where strongman tendencies have been the norm rather than an exception, the rules of the game are defined by those in power. Therefore, emerging parties have an uphill task in trying to contest for power. All kinds of road blocks may be laid in their way that they sometimes appear as if they are legitimising the rule of the dominant party. Nevertheless, experience has shown that the contradictions within the ruling elite could give some advantages to the opposition parties if they were well organised. For the political ground to be level, the opposition parties will need to press for more transparency in public funding, electoral reforms, and change in the attitudes of some of the state institution.
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The cost of democracy
57 One of the key challenges to democratic pluralism is the issue of financing political parties. On the one hand, political parties especially on the opposition are so highly constrained financially that they cannot effectively implement their programmes. On the other hand, parties have been accused of corruption and lack of transparency in their financial transactions. Ruling parties particularly are accused of unfairly using state resources to advance their political agenda. The debate therefore has dwelt on whether public funding may facilitate the operations of political parties by increasing their democratic and accountability credentials. Some theorists of political parties posit that the funding of political parties generally takes two major perspectives.70 The proponents of the neo-Marxist paradigm have argued that political parties and their leaders are agents of global and local capitalist interests, with the “predatory” behaviour; therefore, parties reflect developments in other parts of the world. In this model, parties are corrupt because they are by definition, part of the struggle of oligarchic elites that hijack democratic institutions and perpetuate the capitalist system. Other interpretations adopt a more anthropological approach based on what is termed as the “assumption of self- interest utility.”71 This approach argues that politicians like other people, are largely interested in maximising their own benefit, with political parties only acting as vehicles for increasing their wealth, influence and social status.
58 Beyond the above arguments, it is plainly clear that money matters in politics because parties need resources for administration and election campaigns. But money should not be allowed to buy access to decision-making. The issue of money in politics is complicated due to a number of reasons. Firstly, under-funded political parties are not likely to compete effectively in the political game and are unlikely to nurture the growth of democracy. Secondly, ruling parties are likely to use their influence to solicit much more financial resources than the opposition parties. Thirdly, opposition parties are likely to illicitly solicit resources from sources restricted by the law. In addition, most parties, whether in government or opposition are tempted to conceal their sources of funding, which is dangerous to both democracy and the security of the state.
59 Therefore political parties need common sources of raising finances. This will create equal opportunities for all contending parties to access public power. Excessive inequality in financing of parties is likely to favour certain parties and candidates over others. In most countries, for both presidential and parliamentary election campaigns, candidates rely heavily on the media; mainly the television and radio for political marketing. For this reason, political parties are under heavy pressure to raise large amounts of money, irrespective of its origin. However, most parties especially on the opposition are seriously constrained financially. Because of weak laws, the people in government tend to misuse their stay in power to finance their party activities. This has been the case with the ruling NRM in Uganda.
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Financing of election campaigns under the Movement in Uganda
60 The NRM passing as a Movement System used state coffers to finance its political activities. Using the legal mandate under the 1995 Constitution the Movement was entitled to state funding, just one-party systems. Under the Movement System (1986— 2005), the elections were held under individual merit. The assumption was that an individual was solely responsible for raising his/her electoral campaign funds. However, this was part of the picture. There were other sources of finances other than the individual’s resources vis: • The Constitution allowed the President and Ministers to use facilities ordinarily attached to their offices for electoral purposes. • The Movement Secretariat mobilized state resources and “facilitated” some candidates. • The President participated in mobilizing support for Movement candidates. • The financing of the presidential campaign was the sole responsibility of the presidential candidate. • There was no limit on the finances a candidate could use for his election campaign. The richer candidates had higher chances of influencing voters using their financial power, than the poor ones. Although the election laws expressly prohibited bribery of the voters, some candidates would still violate the rules by passing “envelopes” to certain people at rallies while others would use material things such as soap, salt, sugar, matchboxes, roofing sheets, cement, cash, etc., to influence voters. The material substances dished out to the voters depended on the significant influence a particular candidate had over others. Local council officials were targeted beneficiaries of the candidates’ wild search for votes. • The main sources of campaign funds under the Movement were assumed to be largely personal savings, bank loans, donations from friends and well-wishers. Some candidates could have received funding from foreign sources such as non-governmental organizations, friendly governments and corporations. • There was no law in place to limit a candidate’s sources of election finance, the amount he/ she could spend on the campaign and there were no requirements for declaration of finances used.
61 Although there are still no requirements for declaration of election campaign finances for individual candidates, the law prohibits certain sources of finances and bribery of votes. It also assumes that candidates are sponsored by their political parties.
62 Under the Movement System, individual merit meant that a candidate was not allowed to officially solicit financial support from his/her party of affiliation. The constitution prohibited candidates from receiving financial support from their parties. The implication was that: • Individual candidates struggling to sponsor themselves were forced to sell their treasured assets or contracted heavy bank loans that caused them dire poverty. Some candidates had powerful patrons who financed their election campaigns. Such patrons had their own expectations, imposed obligations and demanded that candidates do certain things for them. In effect when highly patronized candidates were elected, they were not independent enough to make decisions free of the wishes of their sponsors. • Excessive personal expenditure on the election campaign not only increased the incidence of vote buying, it also perpetrated the perception amongst the elected officials that they
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bought the votes; hence they owed no responsibility to the electorate. Moreover, the electorate having been induced by the candidates’ incentives to vote this or the other way grew the appetite of wanting more favours from the elected officials once in office. These tendencies are in general orientation towards political corruption. The constituents of a particular elected official bordered on holding him/her hostage of their unending demands. • State funding of candidates was/is limited to presidential candidates. Each successfully nominated candidate for the post of president is facilitated by the Electoral Commission to the tune of Shs 20 million, plus a vehicle and state security. However, this is very little money considering the cost of running a presidential election campaign throughout the whole country. One can only say, it is symbolic funding because it can hardly be enough to cover campaigns in one district. The basis upon which this level of funding was decided is unclear. Moreover, it assumes that all presidential candidates will mobilize resources from private sources. To the contrary, a person already holding the presidency is more likely than others to take advantage of incumbency. The law allows the sitting president to use the facilities attached to his/her office during the campaigns. Unless there are mechanisms for critically checking and prohibiting the use of such facilities, there is a strong likelihood of the office-holders turning such facilities to their advantage during the election campaign.
Financing election campaigns under the multiparty politics
63 The multiparty politics is a recent phenomenon in Uganda. From 1986 to 2005, the Constitution had suspended most of the activities of political parties such as holding of delegates conferences, sponsoring candidates for election to public offices, holding public rallies and opening up branches (other than their headquarters). Although the law did not explicitly forbid political parties from raising finances for their own activities, the prohibition of all partisan politics meant there was no rationale for political parties to raise funds from their well-wishers and supporters. However, the passing of the Political Parties and Organization Act (PPOA) 2005 effectively legalized the existence of political parties. Since the end of 2005 when the Act took effect, the activities of political parties have been freed. This has resulted in registration of more than fifty political parties.
64 The Act specifies the sources of political finances, requirements for disclosure and penalties for failure to comply with the law. Since 2005 some observations can be made in respect to the operations of political parties: • Some political parties have a wide national coverage, with branches across the country. • Some political parties are regional parties drawing most of their support from particular regions. • Some parties contested the 2006 multiparty elections while others did not. • Some performed very well, others poorly. • Many new parties have been registered since 2006. It is estimated that there are 56 political parties in Uganda today.
65 The real test for multiparty democracy in the recent past was the 2006 elections. Not only was the election hotly contested but also a lot of finances were used. It was reported that President Museveni used Shs 50 billion for his campaign.72 This however was contradicted by the NRM Secretary General who put Museveni’s expenditure at Shs 10 billion.73 On the other hand, the main opposition Forum for Democratic Change (FDC) declared Shs 740 million as campaign expenditure for its presidential candidate, Kiiza Besigye. These
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figures are surrounded by mystery because the NRM on its part did not make an official declaration of its sources of funding. Though the opposition parties declared their campaign finances, they could easily have under-declared. For all parties, there was little transparency, wishing to conceal the identities of some of their benefactors. A recent study suggests that NRM could have used businessmen connected to it as conduits for state resources that could have financed the elections.74 It is possible that other parties could have also raised substantial amounts of money from businessmen, but the extent to which this was done cannot be ascertained. This is the reason why disclosure is an important aspect of political transparency. These concerns were also expressed by the Coalition for Election Finance Monitoring (CEFIM).75
Conclusion
66 The last two decades have witnessed a dynamic return to multiparty democracy in several countries. Some of the states that had hitherto controlled politics with the intention of promoting dominant parties to monopolise political space have given some room to other players. However, some states such as Uganda have allowed party politics superficially; that is, allowing legal existence but denying them the necessary climate to effectively contest for political power.
67 Strongman tendencies characteristic of authoritarian regimes have increasingly become apparent in the ruling NRM under Yoweri Museveni. State power is not only dominated by NRM, but its leader Yoweri Museveni seems to be pursuing a life-long tenure in the presidency. This followed the draconian amendment of the Constitution in 2005 to allow him indefinite eligibility for the office. Thus, compared to other democratising countries in Africa, Uganda seems to be sliding back to the authoritarian era—where the word of the strongman was the law, state institutions owed allegiance to the ruler, not the people and those with financial muscles controlled the political agenda. These alarm bells could be sounding the undesired possibilities of political instability, patronage-based politics, corruption and intolerance in the country that had registered a positive posture in its public politics. This far, the future of competitive multiparty politics in Uganda will depend on the struggles of democratic forces (including political parties) in reshaping the agenda for democratisation and their realisation of concrete gains thereof.
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NOTES
1. Hyden (1983): 44. 2. See Article 70 of The Constitution of Uganda 1995. 3. Adedeji (2007): 19. 4. Jamal & Weeks (1993). 5. See Kyemba (1997). 6. Karugire (1980): 57-58; Mutibwa (1982); Mudoola (1996). 7. See FBwengye (1985); Edmonds (1988); Collier & Pradhan (1998). 8. Quoted in Schick & Pfister (1975): 69. 9. Schick &Phister (1975): 68–79. Parties in the US grew out of the debate between federalists and anti-federalists. 10. Michels (1962): 15. 11. Ibid.: 64–65. 12. Huntington (1968); Apter (1967); Almond & Verba (1963). 13. Apter (1967): 179. 14. Huntington (1968): 397. 15. Ibid.: 398. 16. Almond & Verba (1963): 214. See also M. Mamdani (1996). 17. See Almond & Coleman (1960): 239–246. 18. See James Coleman, “The Politics of Sub Saharan Africa.” In Almond & Coleman (1960). 19. Duverger (1954): 426. 20. Huntington (1968): 407. 21. Ibid. 22. Apter (1996): 373. 23. See Schmitter & Karl (1993): 40. 24. See Huntington (1993): 4. 25. Bratton & van de Walle (1997). It is noted that by 1996, 29 of the sub-Saharan African countries had made a transition to multiparty politics. 26. Makara (2007). 27. Fukuyama (1992). 28. Huntington (1968). 29. Oloka-Onyango (2004); Tripp (2004). 30. Tangri & Mwenda (2006).
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31. On the move towards party rule see Gingyera-Pinycwa (1978): 56–66. Pinycwa notes that the idea of one party state was first introduced by Obote on a district trip to his homes district of Lango (at Lira on 7 January 1964). 32. See Gingyera Pincywa (1978): 59. 33. Shivji (1991). 34. See Cliffe (1967). 35. Mandaza & Sachikonye (1991). 36. Matlosa (2007): 57. 37. Nolutshungu (1993): 366. 38. Ogendo (1993): 66. 39. As quoted in Ogendo (1993): 68. 40. Ake (1993). 41. Ibid.: 70. 42. James S. Coleman, “The Politics of Sub-Saharan Africa.” In Almond & Coleman (1960): 296. 43. Ibid.: 297. 44. Harmel & Svåsand (1993). 45. Museveni (1992). 46. IBRD (1962). 47. Mugaju (2000) Proviser (1977); Gertzel (1974); Engholm (1962). 48. Kyemba (1997). 49. Avirgan & Honey (1982). 50. Bwengye (1985). 51. Referendum held in 2000 upheld the retention of the Movement and rejected the parties. Another one in 2005 endorsed multipartyism. But referenda results depended on the wishes of what the Movement and the leaders wanted to achieve at a particular time. 52. Republic of Uganda: Local Government Act 1997; The Movement Act 1998, Section 25. 53. Kiiza, Makara & Rakner (2008). 54. Makara, Tukahebwa & Byarugaba (2003). 55. Parliament of Uganda, 2002. 56. Sabiti Makara, Lise Rakner & Lars Svåsand, “Turnaround: The National Resistance Movement and the Reintroduction of a Multiparty System in Uganda.” In Kiiza, Makara & Rakner (2008). 57. Ibid.: 276. 58. See The Daily Monitor, September 1, 2008 where the Army Commander was quoted addressing the army at Mubende Military Rehabilitation Centre. 59. Sunday Vision, November 19, 2006. 60. Sunday Vision, November 19, 2006. 61. The New Vision, June 19, 2008. 62. Museveni (1992). 63. Daily Monitor, August 18, 2008.
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64. Daily Monitor, August 18, 2008. 65. The Monitor, February 14, 2008: 1. 66. See Saturday Vision, February 28, 2009: 3. 67. See New Vision, January 5, 2009, p.1. 68. Sunday Vision, September 28, 2008. 69. Sunday Vision, September 28, 2008. 70. Mietzner (2007). 71. Ibid.: 2. 72. The Daily Monitor, April 22, 2006. 73. The Daily Monitor, April 27, 2006. 74. See Julius Kiiza, “Party Financing and its implications for Democratic Governance in Uganda.” In Kiiza, Makara & Rakner (2008): 247–250. Kiiza suggests that the representative of the business community on the National Executive Committee of NRM, Hassan Basajjabalaba received US$ 11 million from Bank of Uganda with the guarantee of President Museveni. This money has to date not been paid back. 75. See CEFIM (2006).
INDEX
Geographical index: Uganda | Ouganda
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Voting Patterns in Uganda’s Elections: Could it be the end of the National Resistance Movement’s (NRM) domination in Uganda’s politics?
Charles N. Bwana
Introduction
1 It has been argued that holding regular, free and fair elections is the hallmark of building a democratic society. This is because the election process determines who should stay in office, who should be thrown out of office and who should replace those thrown out (Harrop and Miller, 1987). This process is not only a necessary means to a greater end/ good of ensuring that a given population owns its destiny, but is also an end in itself as a fundamental human right. This means therefore that it is important to understand how and why a particular population is likely vote in an election especially for those aspiring to lead.
2 However, voting patterns are complex phenomena, which result from an inter-play of varying factors in different circumstances. Generally, both objective factors that cut across a population and subjectively held sentiments determine the pattern of voting and the choices made in an electoral contest. The former may entail among other things the socio-economic status of the voters and ideological persuasion while the latter my take on more sectarian considerations like race, ethnicity, religion, etc.
3 This paper makes an attempt to put into context the history of voting and the emergent voting patterns that can be identified in Uganda since the NRM took over power twenty- two years ago. The paper mainly looks at five national elections that have been held under the National Resistance Movement (NRM) administration; that of 1989, 1994, 1996,
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2001 and in 2006. Two arguments run through this paper; One that there appears to be a growing political tilt in favour of the Opposition, particularly since the 2001 general elections, but that this situation does not necessarily mean that the NRM political party is about to relinquish power given the apparent fusion between that party and the state apparatus. And two, that in all the elections which have been held since 1989, there have been limited national issues determining the election results and instead local/regional problems in some areas and personal issues have largely influenced the voting patterns.
Voting patterns: towards a theoretical explanation
4 Many theories/models have been developed, particularly in the industrialized world, to try and explain voting trends and behavior within a given population. However, the applicability of such theories varies according to the political climate and the circumstances under which elections are held. Indeed, explaining the voting patterns in Uganda (and perhaps in the Third World in general [Ganguly, 1975]) is no simple task for a number of reasons. First, is the prevalence of a culture where everybody must be a winner and in such a situation the losers have always accused the victors of electoral fraud. In other words, it is rather difficult to clearly account for the voting patterns in Uganda since the elections results have always been disputed. Perhaps this partly explains the extraordinary role which has been played by the judiciary in the electoral processes in the country (Gloppen, 2008: 53). Secondly, the legal and institutional framework within which an election is conducted impacts on the outcome, and the most critical institution in the conduct of the electoral process is the Electoral Commission. In most of the elections held in Uganda, there have been complaints regarding the independence and impartiality of the electoral body. Thirdly, apart from the general elections of 2006, the rest of the post 1986 elections were held with a ban on political party activities. This means that for the last twenty years the NRM continued to attract support and the people identified with it as an organization (or party) riding on the back of “individual merit” principle while other parties remained locked up. Fourthly, there is a problem of lack and reliability of the data provided by the electoral body yet conducting exist polls is an almost impossible task given the sensitivity of elections in the country. Finally, like it is the case in much of the pseudo-democracies, where the electoral playing field is tilted in favor of the incumbent party/president, the recent elections under the NRM, have been largely determined by the power of incumbency. Indeed, the fusion between incumbency and state apparatus has been overwhelming under the NRM regime. In that regard, it is rather difficult to clearly account for the voting patterns. This means therefore that this paper does not pretend to give final conclusions on the voting patterns in Uganda but rather it constitutes the first steps toward a more sustained work on voting behavior in the country.
5 Having said that, there are three theories which try to explain voting trends and behavior, namely the Party Identification Model; the Rational Choice Model; and the Sociological Model. In the party identification model, the act of voting is seen as expressive, not instrumental, that is, it is a way of expressing a deep-seated loyalty to the party. The party identification model springs from social psychology and scholars at the University of Michigan and elsewhere have developed this idea into what is often referred to as the “Michigan Model” (Jeff and Gainous, 2002), because it was developed at the University of Michigan in the 1950s. The central argument here is that people will tend to vote for
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candidates and positions of parties they have come to identify with. The concept of party identification denotes the long term feelings of attachment which many electors develop to a particular political party. The party identification model stresses the role of the family in the transmission of party loyalties (Harrop and Miller, 1987).
6 As for the rational choice model (also called public choice theory), it makes a number of assumptions about individual behavior that is necessary to describe systems of aggregate voting in symbolic terms (Jeff and Gainous, 2002). Under this model, individuals are assumed to make orderly choices that reflect their personal preferences and desires. This debate about the rationality of self-interest in political behavior can be traced as far back as works by Machiavelli, Hobbes and Hume (Jeff and Gainous, 2002). In the rational choice model, voters choose the party, which comes closest to their own interests, values and priorities (Harrop and Miller 1987). Three points characterize this model: voting is considered to be an instrument or means of achieving some further end and there is no room for citizens who vote for a party because they value such a government for its own sake; secondly, rational choice model focuses on the voters’ political goals, thus voting is not for pleasing one’s spouse, impress one’s friends or for any other non-political reason as the case is in party identification model; lastly, rational choice assumes voters are instrumental in their approach to political transformation as to the vote itself and acquire as much information as is needed to make their decision.
7 On the other hand, the sociological model rejects the individualistic emphasis of both the party identification and rational choice models (Harrop and Miller 1987). The sociological model emphasizes the impact of social structure on political parties. It tends to by-pass the individual elector altogether and, to the extent that it does focus on people, it emphasizes the social base of values and interests rather than the mechanisms by which they translate into voting behavior.
8 The question then is; to what extent can these three models be appropriated to suit in the circumstances and political conditions under which elections have been conducted in Uganda.
Elections under the NRM Government
9 In the last twenty-two years of the NRM government, Uganda has held a number of national elections. These include the 1989, 1994, 1996, 2001 and in 2006 elections. But as I have already indicated, the lack of organized political contest and open, free campaign platforms has been a leading characteristic of all post 1986 elections in Uganda. Indeed, successive legal and constitutional measures placed a ban on political party activities since 1986, starting with Legal Notice No. 1 of 1986. Before the promulgation of the 1995 constitution, all elections were held under laws that explicitly outlawed party activity. Even 1995 constitution stipulated under article 169 that there would be no political parties’ activities for the next five years until a national referendum would be held to decide whether to return to multiparty or continue under a “no-party” system. Accordingly, a referendum was held in June 2000 and the ban on political parties continued. This was to become a decisive factor in subsequent elections in Uganda, i.e., that the NRM continued to attract support and people identified with it as an organization or party riding on the back of “individual merit” principle while other parties remained locked up. It has been argued that the NRM did not feel capable of
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competing against well-organized political parties such as the Democratic Party (DP) and the Uganda Peoples Congress (UPC).
The 1989 elections
10 The first national elections under the NRM government were held in 1989 with the election of Resistance Councils (now called Local Councils) at all levels from the village up to the national parliament called the National Resistance Council (NRC). As already noted, the 1989 elections were held under strict anti-party rules since the NRM government had suspended all political party activities. Indeed, the Resistance Councils and Committees Elections Regulations, 1989, forbade all use of party symbols, sectarian appeals, and threats of force, the offer of food or drinks and the display of candidates’ posters. The absence of open campaigning made it impossible to discuss policies (Kasfir, 1991). Consequently, discussion focused on the personal qualities of the candidate, their moral character, honesty and willingness to mix with ordinary people rather than on the policies they were likely to support. Preventing party competition and banning open discussion of candidates’ policy positions were lumped together, thus voters who were not aware of the policy positions of candidates may have felt it safer to vote for those they thought were NRM members (Kasfir, 1991).
1994 Constituency Assembly (CA) elections
11 The 1994 elections to the Constituent Assembly (CA) that debated and promulgated the 1995 constitution were the second major elections under the NRM administration. In all, 286 delegates were elected to the CA but the CA elections were not any different from the earlier elections to the NRC in 1989 as they were organized under the “individual merit” principle. This trend continued in the 1996 presidential and parliamentary elections and to some extent the 2001 elections.
The March 1996 Presidential and the June Parliamentary elections
12 These were the first presidential and parliamentary elections and they were also held under the “individual merit” principle. In the presidential elections, Mr. Yoweri Museveni who was the NRM candidate worn 74.3% of the vote while his other two challengers, Mr. Kawanga Ssemogere and Mr. Kibirige Mayanja won 23.6% and 2.1% respectively. In the parliamentary elections which were also held on the basis of individual merit, the outcome revealed that the NRM obtained 156 seats and the others (UPC, DP, CP, etc.) 120 seats.
The March 2001 Presidential Elections
13 The 2001 presidential elections were also held on the basis of the “individual merit” principle. What is interesting to note here is that the main challenger to Mr. Musevevi this time was his former political aide and comrade in the NRM, Dr. Kizza Besigye. The results of that election indicated that Mr. Museveni obtained 69.33% of the vote (compared to 74.3% in the 1996 elections), while his main challenger Dr. Kizza Besigye got 27.82%. (compared to Kawanga Semwogere’s 23.6%) The rest of the candidates; Mr.
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Aggrey Awori, Mr. Kibirige Mayanja, Francis Bwengye and Mr. Karuhanga chapaa got 1.41%, 1.00%, 0.31% and 0.14% respectively.
14 One thing worth noting here is that these three elections were held under a political space monopolized by the NRM. Without a clear and evenly levelled political playing field, it is unlikely that the rational choice approach has been at play in the 1989, 1994, 1996 and 2001 elections. And the fact that there has been no political party activity, the party identification model has also been non-applicable in the elections.
The February 2006 General Elections
15 The issue of multiparty politics has been very contentions in the post 1986 elections. However, a combination of local and international pressure compelled President Museveni to change his hard-line stance against political parties and he in fact campaigned for return to a multiparty system in a national referendum held in July 2005. President Museveni who had pledged to retire after the end of his two constitutional two terms in 2006, instead pushed for a constitutional amendment that lifted presidential term limits in the constitution. This development overshadowed the return to multiparty politics and the electoral contest zeroed down to a personal contest between President Museveni and his main challenger Dr. Kizza Besigye.
16 Official results announced by the Electoral Commission showed that the incumbent and NRM presidential candidate Yoweri Museveni had won the contest by 59.28% (compared to 69.3% in the 2001 elections and to 74.3% in the 1996 elections). As for the others candidates, Forum for Democratic Change (FDC) candidate Kizza Besigye got 37.36% (compared to 27.8% in 2001); Ssebana Kizito of the Democratic Party (DP) had 1.58%; independent presidential candidate Abedi Bwanika got 0.95%; and Uganda Peoples Congress’ (UPC) Miria Kalule Obote got 0.82%. Whereas the opposition garnered considerable support in the presidential race and drastically cut down on the percentage of votes the incumbent had got in the previous elections, the NRM returned an overwhelming majority in parliament.
17 So, what have been the voting patterns in the post 1986 elections? And what have been the determining factors of these voting patterns?
The emerging voting patterns in Uganda
18 One very consistent voting pattern is that in most of the elections held in Uganda, the Northern part of the country has always voted against the NRM candidates and President Museveni. This is because in the early years of the NRM government, the National Resistance Army (NRA) went on a collision path with the population in Northern Uganda resulting in the proliferation of insurgency groups. Indeed, since the inception of the NRM rule, the greater part of Northern Uganda has hardly had peace, with an estimated close to two million people condemned to live in Internally Displaced Peoples (IDP) camps where living conditions have been rather deplorable. This instability and insecurity in Northern Uganda has been the overriding factor for the indifference for the NRM and therefore the tendency to vote for the opposition candidates. On the other hand, the Western and the Central parts of the country have regularly voted in favor of President
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Museveni largely because of wanting to maintain the status quo of considerable peace and prosperity.
19 From a sociological point of view, the NRM presidential candidate has been drawing the bulk of his support from the rural voters while the urban areas have regularly voted in favor of the Opposition. The socio-economic factors always have always had an influence on the choice of voting especially in the urban areas. The Opinion polls (The Daily Monitor; 2006) also showed that the young voters were in favor of the Opposition while the NRM received the support of the elderly population of the voters. It is believed that this demographic divide has a historical basis embedded in the post-colonial politics of Uganda. The old aged population appears to credit the NRM for maintaining some level of stability in Uganda as opposed to the period of political and constitutional instability during much of post-independence Uganda. On the other hand, the young voters judge the NRM not in comparison with Uganda’s past but on the basis of international standards of good governance and democratic practice. Rather than look at Uganda’s checkered past and applaud the NRM, the young generation of voters has tended to rationalize about current problems affecting them and the failure on the part of the NRM to perform to their expectation.
20 Another category of voters who have been hostage to Uganda’s past and therefore continue to vote for the NRM are the women. The history of women marginalization and oppression received concerted international attention at the same time that the NRM came into power in Uganda. Thus the NRM appropriated and brought on board the international agenda of women emancipation after the adoption of the United Nations Convention on Elimination of all forms of Discrimination Against Women that came into force in 1981. Consequently, various measures including affirmative action in favor of marginalized groups were taken to uplift the status of women in Uganda. This has been a big source of political capital for the NRM and the continued electoral support for President Museveni from the women voters in successive elections.
Conclusion
21 It is apparent that in all the presidential elections (1996, 2001 and 2006) held under the NRM, the northern region, and parts of north east and the West Nile region have consistently voted in favor of the candidates opposed to the NRM regime or not directly associated with it. The north-south divide became evident in the February 2006 general elections where virtually the whole of northern Uganda, West Nile and North East (Teso region with exclusion of Karamoja region) voted for the Opposition in the presidential race and the opposition or independent candidates in the parliamentary contests.
22 At face value, one would assume that the two sociological factors of ethnicity and regional bias have been at play in recent elections in Uganda given the north-south divide in the poll results. But the leading opposition candidate in the last two presidential elections garnered support from regions and among tribes where he does not hail from while performing poorly in the region and tribe of his ancestral origin, at least according to official results.
23 In the 2001 and 2006 elections, the youth and the urban elite voters were largely associated with the new opposition political party, the Forum for Democratic Change (FDC). It is important to note that the 2006 elections were preceded by a 20 year ban on
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the activities of political parties. What can be deduced here is that long spells of no-party activity alienates existing parties from the youth and the quest for something new when the political space is finally opened.
24 Another factor that needs mention is the seemingly diminishing role of religion in the politics and elections in Uganda. While the two multi-party elections of 1962 and 1980 were largely dominated by the two old political parties, the DP and the UPC whose foundation largely hinged on religion (with the DP started by Catholics with intent to counter the dominance of the Anglican Church), the new political parties like the NRM and the FDC have not been buttressed by any strong religious base. Suffice to note however that leaders of the two leading religions, that is, the Catholic Church and Anglican Church openly opposed the quest by President Museveni to amend the constitution and seek another term of office as president of Uganda. But their opposition did not substantially resonate among the flock and Museveni successfully had the constitution amended and subsequently secured an electoral victory in the 2006 elections.
25 Finally, another trend which has emerged has been the preponderance of two candidates/parties in the presidential campaign races. In the two multiparty parliamentary-system elections of 1962 and 1980, the race was largely between the UPC and the DP while in the two “no-party” elections of 1996 and 2001, the contest was between two individuals (Yoweri Museveni and Paul Ssemogerere in 1996 and Yoweri Museveni and Kizza Besigye in 2001). In 2006, the contest was between two political parties: the NRM and the FDC. This can be interpreted to mean a certain level of rationalization on the part of the electorate where party allegiance is compromised in the quest to influence the electoral result. Supporters of parties like the DP and the UPC rationalized that it was fruitless to vote for their party’s candidate who stood no chance of winning against the incumbent. They thus voted for the leading opposition party, the FDC.
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INDEX
Geographical index: Uganda | Ouganda
AUTHOR
CHARLES N. BWANA Department of Political Science and Public Administration, Makerere University.
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Switiching Roles in Pursuit of Democracy in Uganda: the performance of civil society and media in the absence of political opposition
Sam S. Mutabazi
Introduction
1 More than twenty years of inhibition of activities of political parties in Uganda has had a great impact on their performance. It is more than two years since they were allowed to organize but their impact as a vibrant political opposition is yet to be felt. Two important actors therefore took the position of highlighting the excesses and failures of government, a role that would ordinarily be played by political parties or opposition. The media and civil society organizations (NGOs) have been instrumental in shaping public opinion and rallying the masses about the shortcomings of President Yoweri Museveni’s government. Even after the introduction of multiparty democracy in 2005, civil society continues to wield a lot of influence in determining the political trend of the country.
2 The growth in political party strength after the re-introduction of multiparty democracy has generally tended to be positive. Though political space is not duly competitive especially due to deliberate restrictive government maneuvers, it is anticipated that more gains will be realized as the public embraces multiparty democracy and shuns individual merit systems. This paper analyzes how civil society and media have shaped the political trend in Uganda in the absence of an official opposition. We compare government and peoples attitudes towards multiparty democracy and explore how the transformations after the introduction of a multiparty system are influencing institutional development and democratic governance in Uganda. The paper constructs and defends a blended analytical approach to evaluation of attempts by political parties to fight for increased
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space. It takes a historical as well as current approach in analyzing the trend of events in Uganda’s movement in the democratic path and what it has achieved so far.
Genesis of multiparty democracy in Uganda
3 In 1967, Uganda got a Republican constitution, which maintained a multi-party system of Government. The Constitution stipulated that after a general election, the Party with greatest numerical strength of the elected members would form the government. Further, under the Constitution, members of the National Assembly were deemed to have been elected for a term of five years. Parliament under the Republican Constitution was the Second Parliament of Uganda. The elections provided for under this new Constitution were never held due to the military coup which took place in January 1971. From 1971 to 1979 the Uganda Parliament was in abeyance, having been suspended by Field Marshall Idi Amin Dada, the then military leader.
4 Following the overthrow of the military regime in 1979, Uganda got an Interim Parliament known as the National Consultative Council. It was initially composed of 30 members who were elected at Moshi, Tanzania, but was later in 1979 expanded to 120 members. The Interim Parliament continued to be the Supreme Legislative Body until the general elections that were held in 1980. This was the Third Parliament of the Republic of Uganda.
5 When the NRM usurped power in 1986, they introduced a quasi parliament mainly consisting of ministers and NRA apologists. In February 1989, new legislation recognized the appointments of the original 38 members of the NRC and provided for the enlargement of the NRC through the election and appointment of additional members. Each county and each district would elect one representative (only women could be candidates for district representative). In addition, one or more of the representatives would be elected by municipalities, depending on the size of their populations. The original parliamentary representatives were legitimized by their participation in the guerrilla struggle, not by elections. Although political figures that had not been part of the NRM or NRA during the war were later appointed to the NRC and in 1989 elected to it, the original NRC members continued to occupy a privileged position. They did not have to stand for election to the NRC. In addition, their special status was formalized in February 1989 with the creation of the National Executive Committee (NEC), a standing committee of the NRC, to contain these original members plus one elected member from each district and ten members appointed by the chair of the NRC from among its members. The NRC was later to transform into the Constituent Assembly (CA) that formulated the 1995 constitution. In 1996 a fresh parliament was constituted under the newly promulgated constitution that barred individuals from contesting for office on a political party platform. The restriction of political party activities was therefore achieved at this stage in a semi-legal fashion. Though unacceptably and unfathomably inconceivable especially in the eyes of international legal instruments, this obnoxious law was to be applied to all political opposition in Uganda for the next ten years or so in spite of strong resistance from both within and outside the country.
6 A referendum was held in March 2000 on whether Uganda should retain the Movement system, with limited operation of political parties, or adopt multi-party politics. Although 70% of voters endorsed retention of the Movement system, the referendum was widely criticized for low voter turnout and unfair restrictions on Movement opponents.
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Museveni was re-elected to a second five-year term in March 2001. Parliamentary elections were held in June 2001, and more than 50% of contested seats were won by newcomers. Movement supporters nevertheless remained in firm control of the legislative branch. Observers believed that the 2001 presidential and parliamentary elections generally reflected the will of the electorate; however, both were marred by serious irregularities, particularly in the period leading up to the elections, such as restrictions on political party activities, incidents of violence, voter intimidation, and fraud.
The Movement political system
7 By Legal Notice No. 1 of 1986, the NRM, which formally suspended party activity, amended the 1967 Constitution and among other things vested the NRC with supreme authority of the Government and in particular, the legislative powers of the legislature. In essence, an individual merit system was introduced in earnest at this particular time. Unlike multiparty democracy which brings together people of the same leaning wishing to achieve a common goal, the movement system allowed individuals to offer varied opinions and ideas about different aspirations which makes cohesion at group level totally disunited. In simple terms, the movement system can never promote or consolidate patriotism because there are no common goals under this so called system of governance.
8 The Movement political system was defined as broad-based, inclusive and nonpartisan with the following principles: • (a) Participatory democracy; • (b) Democracy, accountability and transparency; • (c) Accessibility to all positions of leadership by all citizens; • (d) Individual merit as a basis for election to political offices.
9 The person who benefited most from the movement system was President Yoweri Museveni who became larger than the system itself. The system made him more powerful than any other institution or groups of people and he wanted the status quo to remain since this would guarantee his stay in power. One of the greatest weaknesses of an individual merit system is that it effectively divides the population since individual politicians fight to outshine each other for recognition by the population and the president who rules like a king. Recent research in public opinion suggests that citizens have a range of views, not a single fixed one. As a consequence, persuasive communication can be highly relevant. Therefore, much depends on the role of the parties in persuading potential voters. Particularly, if a person has little prior information, then information reaching him will have a large effect (Akkermann, 2003)
Regulation of political organizations
10 Political party activities were restricted by Article 269 which stated that: On the commencement of this Constitution and until Parliament makes laws regulating the activities of political organizations in accordance with article 73 of this Constitution, political activities may continue except- (a) Opening and operating branch offices; (b) holding delegates’ conference;
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(c) holding public rallies; (d) sponsoring or offering a platform to or in any way campaigning for or against a candidate for any public elections; (e) carrying on any activities that may interfere with the movement political system for the time being in force.
11 Article 269 was clearly not in consonance with Article 29 (a, b, d, and e) which states that: 29. (1) Every person shall have the right to- (a) freedom of speech and expression, which shall include freedom of the press and other media; (b) freedom of thought, conscience and belief which shall include academic freedom in institutions of learning; (d) freedom to assemble and to demonstrate together with others peacefully and unarmed and to petition; and (e) freedom of association which shall include the freedom to form and join associations or unions, including trade unions and political and other civic organizations.
12 Whereas Article 75 says Parliament shall have no power to enact a law establishing a one- party state, many people have argued that the movement was nothing other than a political party that sought to legitimize itself using ambiguous laws. It managed keep political parties in abeyance for 20 years because it was acting in a semi-legal fashion. In real terms, political parties, as they are known worldwide are supposed to recruit members, open branches, address rallies and field candidates. Other people have argued that President Yoweri Museveni would have completely banned political parties in Uganda had it not been the fear that this would attract too much condemnation from the west. Although parties were recognized in the constitution, they did not serve any purpose being constantly referred to in name. In effect the NRM government managed to rule Uganda without any opposition, not because there was none but because the state used its might to make the purpose of opposition appear irrelevant and less useful. To date president Yoweri Museveni still thinks that the NRM has been the best thing that ever occurred to Uganda as a country and that it has not and will not make any mistake that can warrant the opposition to point them out.
13 If ordinary citizens cannot exert a relatively high degree of control over leaders, then the minimal threshold of democracy has not been reached in sub-Saharan Africa. As Robert Dahl has written, Africa is a place where demand for democracy exceeds supply. Presidents are shifting power away from the people and other arms of government. Larry Diamond contends that the political struggle in Africa remains largely a conflict between the rule of law and the rule of a person. Posner and Young point to incumbent’s losses at the polls in Africa in recent times and attempts to erase term limits, most notably in Nigeria. They however argue that while the holding of regular multiparty elections and the occasional defeat of incumbents are significant trends, the struggle to cross the frontier from personal rule to rule-based governance is still far from over in most of Africa.
14 Life is about choices. The more the choices, the more meaningful and fulfilling life becomes. Most governments in Africa are not comfortable allowing the people they rule to make choices about governance and democracy. Human nature is that most people, including leaders are not comfortable when they are criticized for their shortcomings. The role of the opposition is to critique government programmes and policies and provide an alternative view on how an issue ought to have been handled. Governments all over Africa have praise singers. Not criticizers. They are therefore either mindfully or
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otherwise narrowing the choices of the people by dictating that citizens must support the government in power irrespective of whether such a government is living up to the challenge or not.
15 Systems of personal rule have continued to clash with institutions intended to give expression to the popular will. The democratic upsurge of the early 1990s, along with the play of political and socio-economic forces are too complex to capture under the rubric of transition paradigm. The resumption of competitive party politics and the shift from static to market oriented economic systems heralded a reconfiguration of powers whose outcomes could not be predicted. Today, the evolution of this reconfiguration remains uncertain as illiberal regimes cling to power (Berendsen, 2008). It is widely believed that as President Yoweri Museveni seeks to hold on to power, elections in Uganda are likely to continue to being unfair, inefficient and barely credible.
Multiparty democracy
16 Political parties form a cornerstone of a democratic society. They represent the interest of a particular group with a view to popularizing certain beliefs and ideas which are believed to be better options to transform a given society or country. Parties which are well-managed provide the best avenue for democratic governance and growth of a nation through a system that is not easy to manipulate by those in authority.
17 For political parties to meaningfully deliver, they are supposed to be democratic from within and should allow free debate. Most importantly they must cultivate a culture of constitutional governance. It is a great challenge for parties to become democratic because they have many interests and targets. But this alone cannot be the withholding factor. Whereas most political parties in Uganda have well-drafted constitutions as their supreme guiding document, these constitutions have not been adequately implemented to the satisfaction of both party members and Ugandans at large. If political parties are not democratic, it follows without question that they will be worse when they assume power. A well-meaning political party would never postpone constitutionalism and democracy within its ranks and hope to rectify this anomaly when it takes over power. At that time it may be too late to right the wrongs that were committed along the way. Democracy is like any living creature. It needs to be natured and practiced by those who agitate for it before it can mature.
18 Democracy is an avenue by which people’s aspirations for a better future can be expressed and claims for redress made (Prempeh, 2008). The French and the British consider party democracy as a central tenet of good governance philosophies. It is a core value that orientates their political attitudes and defines their identity (Faucher, 2003). On the contrary, governments in Africa have a tendency of deliberately weakening institutions, particularly opposition political parties. They are aware that well- functioning, vibrant and strong institutions would seriously check all undemocratic tendencies of government.
19 For any society, the transition from authoritarian state to egalitarian government implies major social and economic upheaval—especially when the forces of opposition remain powerful (Ihonvbere, 1998).
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20 Democracy is about competition and choices. It places a sense of responsibility on those in power to exercise their authority responsibly with the people they govern at the centre of expected benefits of every action and programme undertaken by government.
21 Before 1787—89, most political thinkers would regard democracy as consisting only of the power of the people, an illusion that lasted throughout the 19th and 20th centuries. Yet, at the same time democracy has evolved into a composite regime that combines the rule of the people with the rule of the law. Constitutionalism—that is the development of counterweights to the unbalanced supremacy of the people—developed rapidly after the Second World War in European democracies under the influence of the American model. Enforceable human rights, constitutional courts, the territorial and functional division of powers, all became key features of European democracies. Although there is a broad consensus that democracy is founded on these pillars, there is disagreement over the correct balance between these components of democracy (Akkerman, 2003).
22 Current measures of levels of democratization are often mistaken to be an indication of the “quality” of democracy in a more comprehensive and normatively more demanding sense. The same is true for some of the current criteria and indicators of “good governance” (Berg-Schlosser, 2004). Although there is not yet any agreeable form of democracy for all countries in the world, multiparty democracy is widely seen as one of the best forms given its many advantages compared to other forms of democracy practiced in various countries all over the world.
23 Unlike the cases of Kenya and Tanzania, the democratic opening in the 1990s did not involve a shift from a single party to a multiparty system. Rather, it involved a shift from the pseudo-multiparty system under Milton Obote’s government to what the government called a Movement system. Until a constitutional referendum in July 2005, only one political organization, the Movement (also called the National Resistance Movement) was allowed to operate. The President, who also chairs the Movement, maintained that the Movement was not a political party, but a mass organization that claims the loyalty of all Ugandans. Until the 2005 referendum, the 1995 constitution required the suspension of political parties while the Movement organization is in governance. Other political parties could exist but are prohibited from sponsoring candidates and holding meetings. Mueseveni maintained that the Movement was not a political party, but a mass organization that claims the loyalty of all Ugandans.
24 With the NRM’s accession to power, the very existence of the old political parties, particularly the DP and the UPC, became an issue. The old parties were permitted to maintain their headquarters and to issue statements but could not hold rallies or campaign on behalf of candidates for RC elections. This decision stirred fears among adherents of the old parties that the NRM intended to consolidate its hold on power and eventually eliminate them.
25 Parties were finally freed by the Constitution (amendment) Act, 2005 which came into force on 30 September 2005 amended Article 72 of the Constitution thus: “Any person is free to stand for an election as a candidate, independent of a political organization or political party. Parliament, shall by law, regulate the manner of participation in and financing of elections by individuals seeking political office as independent candidates.” However, the overall sentiment from the skeptics after the reintroduction of multiparty democracy is that no real change took place and that the transition is largely cosmetic. They maintain that in reality the movement philosophy and ideology reigns and there has been no fundamental
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shift in value systems. As a result, party politics will remain peripheral, only tolerated as a necessary evil (Larok, 2007).
26 The media in Uganda
27 The vacuum created by the ban of political party activities led the media to take up the role of opposition and to a great extent it played that role effectively, given the prevailing constraints obtaining while the movement system of government was in force. The media performed an essential part in our democracy socially and politically. It was the main source of political information and allowed Ugandans to get to know the other side of government.
28 Access to information is essential to the health of democracy for at least two reasons— first, it ensures that citizens make responsible, informed choices rather than acting out of ignorance or misinformation. Secondly, information serves a checking function by ensuring that elected representatives uphold their oaths of office and carry out the wishes of those who elected them. The role of the press to disseminate information as a means of mediating between the state and all facets of civil society remains critical.
29 There is a growing view which one might call a new-age capitalistic determinism that has gained adherence among many influential journalists and thinkers. Yet, since democracy remains a popular notion with many liberal persons and since the media retains a self- image as the plucky defender of the Constitution, the term democracy has been less jettisoned than redefined. Within this new body of thought, “democracy” has come to mean the freedom of people to speak on everything else except being critical to government’s mistakes. From this perspective, democracy—the will of the people— becomes more sanctimonious than a noble ideal, more an impediment to progress than the fairest way to bestow power on leaders (Parry, 2000).
30 It is a sad truth of journalism that the media is often liked best when at its worst, and disliked most when it is at its best. Or, at least, that seems to be so in the often rocky relationship between the media and those in authority, whether in government or big business (News Manual Online, 2008). Very few governments like a free and unrestrained media. They dislike the media when it criticizes their policies or performance; they despise journalists when they voice opposing views and they absolutely loath them when they expose corruption in their own ranks. Ironically, politicians in opposition usually love the media when they are doing their best work. It is only when they enter into government that these same politicians suddenly see how awful the media really are.
31 We live in a society today where the media plays an alarmingly big part in how we consider our affairs and how our opinions are formed. The media has helped Uganda grow its democracy by emphasizing on issues that may once have been considered strictly political. Due to media intervention, Ugandans now consider politics differently. Under ordinary circumstances, opposition political parties are supposed to act as whistle blowers about things that go wrong within government. Their allies in this endeavour are supposed to be the media. Because political parties were too weak to pursue this role, it was the media that fed the weak opposition on the goings-on in government. The media thus became both the de facto opposition and the watchdog which is supposed to be its original role.
32 In a report by USAID titled “The role of media in democracy: a strategic approach,” it is argued that since the media depends on opposition parties for sources which are critical of the government, viable minority protected opposition parties are institutions that may
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support the development of an independent media. Opposition parties also help to institutionalize a culture where critical views are tolerated. While some governments view this activity as destabilizing, it may be just the opposite since where press freedom is denied, the opposition may turn to more violent forms of expression and protests.
33 Media development is supposed to be about the structural or institutional view of what it can achieve. The case to be made is that it should be emphasized that the set of institutions that are likely to promote responsiveness and accountablility must include a structural or institutional view of the media. It is the “fourth-estate-of-the-realm” view. Particularly, when one is interested in improving the quality of governance, there ought to be a free, plural and independent media system. It should be seen in the same way as an independent judiciary, legislative bodies, free and fair elections, vibrant civil society and so on (Odugbemi, 2008).
34 The media was Uganda’s basic resource for all the news concerning opposition politics during the era of the Movement political system. The opinion expressed by the press influences the opinion adopted by the public. Lastly, the issues the media deem important help set the national agenda. The most basic way the media influence public opinion is by offering knowledge about government decisions and access to government information. The press delivers the raw information to the nation daily, which in turn forms into opinions. Without the media it would take the public longer to become educated about governmental proceedings. The media send messages across the nation.
35 Although the NRM government has liberalized the media industry in Uganda, there is a level beyond which government is not ready to allow them to transcend. President Yoweri Museveni has quite often threatened to close some media houses and indeed some have been clamped down which has resulted into self-regulation and self-censorship in order for such media to remain in the good books of government. Print media remains the most vibrant agitator of democratic governance. Currently there are four major dailies in Uganda namely The New Vision, Daily Monitor, Red Pepper and Bukedde, a Luganda government-owned but largely independent newspaper. There are more than 50 FM radio stations and up to seven television stations in and around Kampala alone. The media has provided a platform to both opposition and government representatives to discuss issues. In some cases however, when government is caught in serious breach of people’s expectations, and when some of its actions are indefensible to Ugandans, it chooses to keep mum. In other instances, instead of government coming out to explain to the public, it has gone a step further by threatening to close down media houses that host opposition figures. The opposition leader Retired Colonel Dr. Kiiza Besigye has been barred from addressing people on various radio stations and televisions including the state owned UBC TV.
36 The media has without doubt played a significant role in shaping and contributing to the few gains so far achieved since the reintroduction of multiparty democracy in Uganda. Some of the print media have even been branded opposition mouthpieces because of their consistent reporting about government excesses. Although radio and TV play a major role in disseminating information, including that on democracy and governance, print media remains the strongest medium of exchange of political discourse especially among the elite population in most urban areas.
37 President Yoweri Museveni knows journalists can use the power of the pen to influence critical issues in the public domain which would systematically erode his popularity. He has therefore over the years developed a scheme to woo and offer better opportunities to
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critical journalists to work in different government departments, hence silencing them. Because journalism is not a well-paying profession, particularly in Uganda, the journalists often take up the “juicy” jobs offered which automatically means that they are politically silenced or if they are to express themselves, they normally toe the party line. It is worrying to see how many resources the government is willing to commit to buying-off journalists, which means the media will remain neutral or not very critical of government. Whether this is practically possible is highly debatable. What seems to be obvious is that the current administration led by Yoweri Museveni is buying time in order to stay in power with as little criticism as possible.
38 The strongest advocate of political reform from the media has perhaps come from the Daily Monitor that took on the role of the opposition during the period when political parties were not allowed to operate. Others are The Weekly Observer and the now defunct Crusader Newspaper. A few others including the government mouthpiece, The New Vision and the Red Pepper have to some extent also helped to raise important political debates but not to the standards of the former. Government has often intimidated the media to silence it. It has been alleged that, sometimes, state operatives go to newsrooms to stop newspapers from publishing certain stories. The Monitor was closed in 2002 for 10 days for allegedly publishing false news. Its sister FM radio station was closed as well in 2005. Government tried severally to block the notorious website, www.radiokatwe.com, which was publishing nerve-wracking stories about government and people associated with it. The authenticity of some of these stories is doubted but nonetheless, government felt uncomfortable with most of the publications which made some people to believe that some issues raised by Radio Katwe could have been true after all. Otherwise, why would government go to the extent of blocking the website?
39 It is true that there are some careless journalists who publish non-researched work which enrages the government. Some of the stories are completely out of context in terms of truth. The explanation for this, however, is that government is not in any way liberal with the way it releases information which leaves the media with only one option— speculation. Although readership of print media is still very low in Uganda as compared to Kenya, it nonetheless has almost the same impact if not more. This can be explained by the enthusiasm with which the elite public discusses topical issues especially those carried on front pages of major newspapers. The New Vision circulates an average of 35,000 copies daily compared to Daily Nation, the largest newspaper in East Africa which has a circulation of over 150,000 copies per day.
40 Media freedom, even in well established democracies, has been put to great challenges by the state and this means that it has to work hand-in-hand with other actors such as the political opposition and civil society to stave off negative government reaction. As the old saying goes, one good turn deserves another. The media stood with the opposition when they were not allowed to freely operate. Now that parties have been freed, the opposition needs to stand by the media to further expand democratic freedom in Uganda.
The NGOs and their role in democratic governance
41 The end of long-standing authoritarianism in the late twentieth century provoked a global resurgence of civil society in the Third World that has driven scholars increasingly to ask how revitalized social movements impact democratic progress. effects. (Suh, 2008).
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42 In a struggle for democratic reform and transformation, key players stand out. These are civil society organizations and the media that have sought to keep government on its toes in demanding fair laws and a level field for all political actors to be heard. These include organizations such as The Uganda Joint Christian Council (UJCC), Foundation for Human Rights Initiative (FHRI), Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch, International Republican Institute (IRI).
43 Hennie Kotze agues that the role of the civil society in the African democratization process has been severely compromised. He quotes Clapham who wrote more than a decade ago, “Sustained rather than sporadic activism is required, and the nascent civil societies are largely too weak to do the job, not only in Nigeria and Zaire (where transitions have become stalemated) and in Burkina Faso, Cameroon, Kenya, and Togo (where transition outcomes are still ambiguous), but also in Benin, Malawi, and South Africa (where transition outcomes have been more clearly successful). In nearly every case, the ability of civil society to help deepen democratic governance and put it beyond reversal remains in serious doubt.”
44 I do not agree with Hennie because of the fact that governments in Africa have been deliberately keeping civil society weak, including putting up stringent laws like those in Uganda such as the NGO Registration Act.
45 Civil society is a self-appointed ombudsman of good governance and democratic accountability in every country. An organized and strong civil society has the capacity to cause fundamental changes in the development process of a country and specifically on formation and sustenance of a foundation base for good governance and democracy. From good governance, the country would reap the benefits in form of harmonized development based on justice freedom and equity for its entire people. Countries with a strong civil society have demonstrated that their citizenry enjoy more democratic freedoms than those where civil society is weak. The civil society—both local and international—has played a key role in ensuring that political parties and the opposition in Uganda are strengthened to provide a viable alternative government in waiting. Civil society is a strong force in mobilizing masses. They have the advantage of time and potential of mobilizing resources both from within and outside the country to create an impact in terms of political accountability and expediency for the people by government.
46 As for “political” activities, Ugandan NGOs are not permitted to belong to any political group. They cannot directly or indirectly support a political candidate running for office. NGOs can actively participate in the election process through conducting educational seminars on current topics of political concern, including understanding the platform of various candidates. Moreover, organizations are allowed to engage in monitoring and observing the electoral process, documenting the flaws in elections, cooperating with the Electoral Commission, and proposing improvements to the electoral process. In the past, organizations have supported candidates in their bids to challenge election results.
47 The NGO Registration Act and its implementing regulations allow the Government of Uganda to exercise considerable control over the operation of NGOs. An NGO is prohibited from operating in Uganda unless it has registered with the National Board of Non- Governmental Organizations (Board). (NGO Registration Act 2 [1]). When issuing the certificate of registration to the NGO, the Board may grant the registration subject to conditions or directions “generally as it may think fit to insert in the certificate, and
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particularly relating to: (a) the operation of the organization; (b) where the organization may carry out its activities; and (c) staffing of the organization” (NGO Registration Act 2 [2]).
48 The limitation arises when government is not comfortable with the work of NGOs because it is aware of the power they yield. According to Human Rights Watch Backgrounder Report 2001, The NGO board’s powers are extensive. In granting registration, it can specify “conditions or directions” for the NGO concerning its “operations” (a term that is not defined in the law), where it may carry out its activities, and its staffing. Once registration has been granted, the NGO board has further powers enabling it to “guide and monitor organizations in carrying out their services,” and to summarily revoke an NGO’s registration if the NGO is considered to have contravened any of the "conditions or directions" that the NGO board set when approving its registration. All these are deliberate attempts by government to keep the civil society weak and incapable of challenging government on its shortcomings.
49 The current law provides for an excessive degree of state control and interference in the activities of NGOs. The mandatory registration requirement means that the government, through the NGO board, has full powers to determine which NGOs are permitted to operate. NGOs that wish to engage in legitimate activities within the community can be prevented from doing so legally, if the government disapproves of them, by being refused registration. NGOs may also be required to carry on their activities under conditions or in locations not of their choosing, or not to employ or to dismiss particular individuals, such as known government critics or opponents, from their staff. Having obtained registration, NGOs may be summarily closed down on ill-defined grounds of “public interest” by order of the NGO board. In such case, the NGO board is not even required to provide detailed reasons or disclose evidence in support of its decision to revoke registration, and the NGO is denied recourse to the courts or an independent judicial body. It is only permitted to appeal to the minister responsible for appointing the NGO board.
50 The perception that NGOs that have obtained registration may be subject to continuous and potentially intrusive monitoring by the state is heightened by the presence of state security representatives on the NGO board. This, understandably, may lead NGOs to exercise a degree of self-censorship, including on important issues of public concern. Under the twin threat of surveillance and de-registration, it would be surprising if some NGOs did not feel obliged to adopt more cautious policies and practices than they would wish, and to steer clear of activities that, while entirely legitimate, could be controversial or politically sensitive, and incur government displeasure.
51 Civil society works on the demand side of the political equation. They engage in honest and open political dialogue with government on the state of democracy. They also make sure the state can live up to the expectations and demands of the governed. Many citizens judge their governments by its ability to provide basic services such as security, health and education. Civil society is thus, aware that democracy plays an important role in provision of basic services to the people. In a country where political opposition is strong, the work of civil society is less because the objectives of the two, though dissimilar in nature, are the same in character in a sense that they both fight to put in place an accountable government that is democratic in nature and transparent in its transactions. The ideal situation would be to have a strong opposition while at the same time having a strong civil society which would mean that the two would work together to form an even a stronger coalition that can easily suggest alternative policies for government and put it to task whenever possible.
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52 Civil society and the media is credited for enhancing the access of desperate segments of the citizenry to the governance and development process. Civil society can contribute to improvement of internal democracy and social accountability of development programmes and enhance popular participation in such processes. It is important that both civil society and the media work hand in hand to promote the noble cause of promoting democracy and development. Where government tries to limit their spaces, each of the two should defend the other in order to create a strong force. In the long run, it will be difficult for government to attack any of the two because it will fear the wrath that may come with its undemocratic actions.
Conclusion
53 The movement system has had a great impact on political trends in the country and it is not likely to be erased in the short run. The individual merit system was an ideal situation that is not practical in real terms. Although its ideals are fancy and enticing to a group of people one may term as “political novices”, it is impossible to enforce the system without trampling on the rights of the people. It takes away the common values of humanity by promoting individualism at the expense of social cohesion. The existence of a healthy, respected and respectful opposition is a common feature of democratic politics. For a democracy to function properly, it needs an opposition to provide political contestation and electoral competition, thus limiting the power of the ruling party. In other words: no opposition—no democracy (Kotzé, 2008). The main obstacle to democratic progress in Africa therefore seems to be the resistance of autocratic leaders to give way to opposition leaders through free and fair elections. Most African countries have an excessively strong presidency, with opposition parties being “plagued by weak organizations, low levels of institutionalization and weak links to society.” It will take a lot convincing to tell governments that strong opposition political parties are good for their countries. Leaders of most states, especially in developing countries, believe that policies are good only when they favour such leaders. The media and civil society have been instrumental in pushing for increased political freedom. The little gains so far achieved can be attributed to their efforts which should not be underestimated given the circumstances they were operating in.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Akkerman, Tjitske (2003). Populism and Democracy: Challenge or Pathology? Palgrave: Macmillan.
Berg-Schlosser, Dirk (2004). “Indicators of Democracy and Good Governance as Measures of the Quality of Democracy in Africa: A Critical Appraisal.” Acta Politica 39 (3).
Berendsen, Bernard, ed. (2008). Democracy and development. Amsterdam: KIT Publishers.
Byrnes, Rita, ed. (1990). Uganda: A Country Study. Washington: GPO for the Library of Congress.
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Centre for Democracy and Governance (1999). The role of media in democracy: a strategic approach. Washington D.C.: USAID.
Core document forming part of the reports of the States Parties: Uganda (1996). Geneva: Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights.
Faucher, Florence-King & Treille, Éric (2003). Managing Intra-party Democracy: Comparing the French Socialist and British Labour Party Conferences. Palgrave: Macmillan.
Gianfranco Pasquino (2008). “Multiparty Democracy: Elections and Legislative Politics.” West European Politics 31 (3): 625–626.
Ihonvbere, Julius (1998). Economic crisis, civil society and democratization: The case of Zambia. Trenton (NJ): Africa World Press.
Katz, R. & Mair, P. (1995). “Changing models of party organization and party democracy: the emergence of the cartel party.” Party Politics 1 (1): 5–28.
Kotze, Hennie (2008). “Opposition party support in Africa: An Elite-mass analysis, Government and opposition.” Government and Opposition 43 (3): 454–485.
Kwasi Prempeh, H. (2008). “Progress and Retreat in Africa: Presidents Untamed.” Journal of Democracy 19 (2): 109–123.
Larok, Arthur (2007). “Civil society and politics: A niche for civil society organizations in the reviewed Multiparty System in Uganda.” National NGO Forum working paper, December.
Suh, Doowon (2006). “Civil Society in Political Democratization: Social Movement Impacts and Institutional Politics.” Paper presented at the annual meeting of the American Sociological Association, Montreal Convention Center, Montreal, Quebec, Canada, August.
INDEX
Geographical index: Uganda | Ouganda
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Part II. Varia
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The struggle for space: minority religious identities in post- independence Kenya
Mildred A.J. Ndeda
Introduction
1 Despite differences in religious integration, similar ideological tendencies are observed in many countries with some religions having an upper hand. In Britain, for example, the Anglican faith is universalised at the expense of the existing religious diversity (Beckford, 1999). The marginalisation of minority religious identity groups by the former colonial powers within their nation state narration was duplicated in the colonies that they occupied. By so doing, the process of national homogenisation necessarily eluded historical, social and cultural differences among the colonised people of Africa.
2 The nature of the contemporary African State is largely due to the colonial era, when administrators tried to employ religion tactically in their pursuit of religious political domination. Missionary activities were an important facet of attempted colonial cultural domination, with both repressive and liberal functions. They were agents of both European superiority and political domination and the purveyors of modernisation especially western education.
3 Most African countries became independent in the 1960s on a surge of optimism, even euphoria. The new governments set about modernising their societies without an effective model other than Western one. Before long, however, the euphoria of early 1960s turned sour. The African State from birth was essentially an agency for control and extraction. There was never any merging of state and society as common expressions of shared values. Thus there has been little in the way of legitimacy, or popular commitment to public institutions like the church/religion.
4 The trend of lack of integration of religious minority groups in the nation state narration continued in most former colonies in Africa beyond the independence watershed. In
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Kenya, the post-colonial state was essentially a reproduction of the colonial state at the level of ideological orientation, laws and the basic economic structures (Gutto, 1993: 265). It therefore ignored some of the illiterate fighters of the Mau Mau movement that had been instrumental in the liberation struggle. The reason for exclusion from central manipulation of policy issues and control of power in the new nation state narration was due to the perceived association of Mau Mau adherents with the indigenous religion of the Agikuyu that missionaries and colonialists disliked (Kenyatta, 1968). Such suspicion of the nation state narration about members of indigenous oriented religious minority groups still persists to date.
5 Apart from the mainline churches and indigenous groups, religious diversity exists in Kenya in other words the religious space and the public realm is shared. Despite this diversity of religious identities, it seems that the government of Kenya gives more attention to the mainline Christian churches and some brotherhoods of Islam in its nation state narration. Consequently, minority religious identities seem to be subordinated against, a fact that impinges on the human rights of some citizens of the Kenyan post-colony. This scenario could be a recipe for violent sectarian confrontations. The contest between the official nation and these minority religious identities generate serious implications on issues of democracy, human rights, and freedom as well as on citizenship. The emergence of minority religious identities in public life in recent times has brought to the fore the pleas for recognition of their values and identities given that they seem to lack space for fruitful participation in the nation state narration.
6 In spite of the fact that freedom of worship is embodied in the constitution, there are no existing policies in the relations between religion and the affairs of state.1 And yet religion and politics in the nation state narration concern each other. Hence it would be stated that the separation of religion and state in the individual national context is usually one of theoretical degree rather than practical certainty. Religion and the nation state narration are power centres, bound to affect each other a great deal given the nature of African politics with its personalisation of issues and then, often close relationship between socio-economic elites.
7 This paper interrogates the contest between the Kenyan state narration and the religious discourses, specifically, the minority religious discourses in order to investigate whether or not the post-colonial Kenyan state has accommodated the interests of the minority religious identities since independence. In particular, it focuses on the dynamics of accommodation and exclusion that inform the relationship between the official disposition of the Kenyan nation-state and the minority religious discourses that operate at the margins of the nation-narration. It also examines how the emergence and existence of minority religious identities have enhanced or threatened the stability of the nation-state narration in Kenya and the effects of minority religious discourses on the critical issues of democracy, human rights and citizenship. This paper also analyses the various methods used by minority religious identities in Kenya to assert themselves by looking for space in the nation state narration.
8 Examples of the marginalised religious group identities are Sufi Islam (and the brotherhoods that comprise it), African Independent Churches (African Independent Pentecostal Church, Legio Maria and Power of Jesus Around the World, etc.) and African indigenous religious groups (Dini ya Msambwa, Tent of the Living God and Mungiki, etc.). With or without the mainline religious groups the Kenyan religious space is shared and vehemently contested. Given the large number of minority religious groups in Kenya this
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paper only tackles the aforementioned marginalised religious group categorised as African indigenous religious groups within this space.
9 It is the assumption in this paper that the Kenyan state interest is political stability hence the position of various religious groups remain ambivalent and ambiguous. The ambivalence of the state and its negative responses to the minority religious groups has often led to negative externalities such as intolerance and aggression that may afflict the society. It is also assumed that the indigenous religious groups remain suspect within the nation state narration in spite of its efforts to accommodate them. Open or hidden conflicts have been characteristics of Kenya State when it has ignored or suppressed certain minority identities. It is obvious that despite the coexistence of the minority religious groups and the state, they have had numerous issues of grievances, thwarted hopes, state manipulation that caused them to voice their marginality. Finally that the minority religious groups, because of their awkward backgrounds, do not have discourses on critical issues such as democracy, human rights and citizenship hence they are easily manipulated. Basically some of the minority religious groups sometimes meet with favour only if they become useful tools to the government but sometimes their responses are met with negotiations or severe reprimands and occasionally violence.
10 Why would there be a fight for space? In sub-Saharan Africa, the brief duration of colonisation resulted in a form of state power which on the surface and theoretically resembled European institutions, but in practice was quite different. Alternative centres of independent power are rare, the acquisition and use of state power for political purposes result in the holder(s) becoming rich. Those associated with the state including some semi-religious figures, may use their positions to benefit themselves personally and their religious groups corporately. Certain members of church at high levels may be close to the government. Some religious leaders quite often enjoy cordial relations with the political authorities. If there are benefits in the public realm then definitely all must pursue them. Thus the minority religions are seeking the collective common space where all are equal, at home and exercise the basic freedoms. This public space seems to have been privatised and yet the privatisation of public space is an attempt to diminish the democratic dreams of ordinary citizens and to make them forget that they had the power and basic rights.
11 This means that the position of the state can be quite ambivalent and very exclusive.
Conceptualising State-Religious relations
12 Religious practices have a critical bearing on the political interests of the state. It is against this background that some religious identities in Africa have enjoyed more positive political and state attention than others giving rise to the dichotomous notion of minority and dominant religious discourses within the African state. It is argued that Kenya is not an exception to the general African experience. It is therefore a battlefield of numerous religious outfits, all of them struggling to gain recognition, attention and favour from the state. The state itself maintains an ambivalent stance.
13 Contemporary Kenyan nation-state was born out of the imperialist project of European colonialism in Africa. While maintaining the fundamental tenets of the Western nation, especially with regard to law, economics and political organisation the nation-state in Kenya became a tool of Western control, domination and exploitation of the Kenyan
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people.2 Control, domination and exploitation were, in turn, consummated by powerful Christian religious principles which were propagated by various denominations including those within the Catholic and Protestant movements. At the heart of the teachings of these Christian denominations were deliberate efforts to denigrate African cultural values including the belief system of polygamy and clitoridectomy. The denominations assisted the state in privileging and recommending Western variants of development. In a sense, colonialism in Kenya failed to distinguish the state from the church. Like the case was in the premodern world, colonial Kenya witnessed both the state and the church playing complimentary roles.
14 At independence, the western nation-state in Kenya remained intact both in structure and content except that, then, colonialism had officially been africanised (Kisiang’ani 2003).3 The same Christian religious denominations which had been recognised and privileged in the period of formal colonialism continued to play similar and dominant roles under the arrangement of informal colonialism. Christian religious denominations such as the Catholics and mainstream Protestants were joined by mainstream Islamic groups in influencing the direction of affairs within the newly independent Kenyan post- colony. The result has been that more and more religious sects especially the traditional African religions, the African instituted Christian churches and the non-conformist Islamic sects have become marginalised within the textual narration of the nation-state. The list of marginalised religious discourses in Kenya is almost endless but they include the traditional religious groups such as the Hema ya Ngai Wi Moyo (Tent of the Living God) Mungiki, Dini ya Msambwa, Legio Maria and POJAW; the minority Christian sects, especially the revivalist and evangelical denominations and the Sunni Shiite variants of the Islamic faith.
15 Two challenges emerged. First the local population expressed their disgust for the Western nation. The local anger found expression in the emergent religious diversities most of them opposed to the mainstream religious groups that had hitherto patronised the Western nation-state in Africa. Second, the ruling elites, having their legitimacy in the West rather than in Africa, have found themselves endangered by threats of war and civil strife emanating from opposition caused by minority identities. Consequently, frustrated by their failure to accommodate diversity, or at least strike a middle ground, these elites have tended to give overwhelming acceptance and support to dominant religious discourses, which are harmonious with classical Western modernity, as they suppress minority voices which are viewed as inimical to the survival of both the state and the ruling elite.
16 Within the paradigm of critiquing modernity, it goes without saying that European Christian religion is just one of the many religious practices spread all over the world. It is hence untenable to privilege either European Catholicism or Protestantism over the traditional religious practices of Africa, Asia and Indian-American. Yet it is evident that modern colonialism was a deliberate European modernist agenda to Westernise, exploit and control non-European inhabitants of this world. Through the same agenda, European values including, religious practices were imposed on the colonies of Africa, Asia and Latin America in the name of spreading superior civilisation. As a result newly created entities like Kenya came to espouse the “universal” practices of Catholicism and Protestantism. During the colonial period Islam was treated with contempt because it had not originated from Euro-America.
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17 However, in the post-modern spirit of questioning the tenability of Western modernity, a different group of scholars, emerging from formerly colonised spaces, have put more pressure on Western civilisation. The scholars have made their impression through the emergent post-colonialist thinking. Apart from focusing their general attention on the relevance of the Western-bred nation-state in formerly colonised areas such as Asia, Latin America and Africa, postcolonial thinkers have interrogated specific perspectives and challenges within the post-colonies. For example, some of these scholars have explored the ways in which minority discourses contest the exclusionary tendencies of national consolidation.4 In Kenya, like in a many post colonies, national consolidation has seemingly been accompanied by the privileging of certain religious identities, on the one hand, and the suppressing of some other religious groups that are viewed to be on the margins of the nation narration on the other hand.
18 It is evident, from research that, such religious groups as the Catholics, the mainstream Protestants (AIC and Anglicans) and some Muslim sects have been privileged to the extent that they operate at the centre of the nationalist narrative while the Sunni Muslims, the revivalist and evangelical churches as well as the traditional religions operate on the periphery of the nation narration. Significantly, the process of national consolidation based on the privileging and suppressing of certain religious groups reflects the cultural continuity of the nation-state within the colonial and the post-independence dispensation yet the existence of religious differences also implies a differential articulation of cultural differences. Minority religious discourses are thus sites of resistance to hybridity, diversity and difference. Consequently, resistance against national homogeneity remains one of the leading challenges to the stability of the nation- state in Africa.
19 Essentially, post-colonialists propose that Africa’s development problems have been caused by its cultural and intellectual dependency on the West. Therefore, taking the contest to the field of culture, the post-colonial theoretical scholars insist that formerly colonised others should radically rethink forms of knowledge and social identities authored and authorised by the West.5 In this paper it is argued that in its post- independence dispensation, the Kenyan nation state has been defined and informed by forms of knowledge and social identities authored and authorised by the West. Consequently, forms of knowledge and social identities that do not fit in the homogenising and normalising experience of the nation-narration in Kenya have been subverted, raising serious concerns about the rights and privileges of some citizens.
20 But the notion of “post-colony” is extremely controversial. Indeed the mention of the word quickly raises the question of when, indeed, the postcolonial experience began. According to Linda Hutcheon, the “post” in the post-colonial may imply “after” because of colonialism; it may also be unavoidably inclusive of colonialism. In this regard, the postcolonial designates moments within colonialism and beyond.6 However, Achille Mbembe argues that the notion of “post-colony” signifies a given historical trajectory— that of societies recently emerging from the experience colonisation and the violence which the colonial relationship, par-excellence, involves.7 In its complete arrangement, the African post-colony has two major battles to fight. First, it has to continue struggling against the Western hegemonic tendencies that have little relevance to local conditions and, second, the post-colony has to contend with local problems that threaten its own stability. The Kenyan post-colony is not an exception to this stark reality. The post-colony is, today, confronted with the problematic of hegemonic colonial proclivities, which have
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consummated the cultural “universals” of Western modernity on the one hand, and the increasing pressure of local diversities on the other hand. Minority religious discourses at the level of nation-narration have hence opened up critical sites of contestation. Thus the post-colony is chaotically pluralistic and sadly deficient in internal coherence.
21 Consequently, the post-colony tries to survive internal and external pressures by adopting a distinctive political improvisation characterised by regime violence, discrimination against minority identities and the general privileging of certain discourses. For instance, the political improvisation could be done in two ways. First, bureaucratic practices, a world of meanings all its own, a master code which in the process of becoming the society’s primary central code ends by governing perhaps paradoxically the various logic that underlie all other meanings within society (ibid: 4). Second, state power attempts to institutionalise its world of meanings as a socio- historical world and to make that world fully real, turning it into a part of a people’s “common sense” not only by instilling it in the minds of target population but also by integrating it into the consciousness of the period.8 Essentially, the operations of state power in Kenya have been exclusionist because identities deemed to be outside the “socio-historical world” and the world of “common sense” have been suppressed, marginalised or ignored. Such identities (in this case religious identities) have been given new meanings that only help to isolate them from the “real world” of “common sense.” It is important to remember that the African post-colony is also made up of corporate institutions and a political machinery which, once in place, constitute a regime of violence that tends not only to sustain the dominant discourses and identities which are friendly to the state, but also suppresses those identities that are considered dangerous or unsuitable to the stability of the nation-state.9
22 It has to be observed that the colonial state was fundamentally established and maintained by a well-defined regime of violence.10 Colonial violence served, among other things, to subvert indigenous cultural values at the expense of the incoming European social values. As a result, most African discourses that narrated the African reality touching on such issues as, eating habits, sex, marriage, government, economy, culture and religion were condemned to a minority status. In their place, Western social— political, economic and religious systems were implanted, highlighted and accorded the status of dominance. The entire transformation process was the work of violence in both its psychological and physical forms. The cultural teachings of the Western colonial advocates tended to downgrade the African values by preaching the imagined superiority of everything that came from the West. Thus, as the colonialism cemented its roots in Africa the African people lost the psychological war of defending their own socio-cultural systems. Indeed, those who espoused Western lifestyles and religious practices were rewarded with favours and appointment by the colonial system. Where the psychological war was not won, the European colonialists in such countries as Kenya, Nigeria and South Africa used force to claim obedience and compliance.
23 Clearly then, the onset of political independence marked not just the continuity of the process of marginalising the discourses of the African cultural reality but also the uninterrupted domination of European discourses imposed to the social reality in Africa. This was because the new African leadership that took power at independence was recruited from the lot that had not just been educated in Western-European values but one that had already permanently succumbed to the psychological violence of European colonialism on the continent. It is therefore no wonder that the same social discourses
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that were subverted under formal colonialism received similar treatment under African governments.
24 But these minority identities have hardly accepted their inferior status. Cases abound where these identities have hit back, sometimes violently in an effort to claim a dominant role in the project of nation-narration. This has occurred because being at the periphery of the national narrative does not just imply cultural isolation. Rather it also signifies loss of access to the social, economic and political commodities that the nation-state creates and distributes. Thus, the struggle against pheripheralisation has also been the struggle for empowerment. In Kenya, there exists massive documentary evidence, especially between 1995 and now about the struggle between the government and minority religious identities such as the Mungiki, the Akorino, and the Tent of the Living God.11 Other religious groups such as DyaM (the religion of our culture) have had its adherents permanently opposing the Western-nation-state and its cultural polices in Kenya.
25 Moreover religious identities are so significant and effective forms of ideological mobilisation but as ideologies they also become implicated in secular conflicts. Thus other criss-crossing forms of social affiliations and solidarities challenge religious affiliations and solidarities.12 Religious identity is one kind of social identity, which means that religious groups involved in confrontational debates have to embrace the structures and strategies of interest groups. In the modern state system, the effectiveness of an interest group seems to require bureaucratic organisation. Finally religiously oriented groups can enter into the political arena either to promote collective religious values (the Umma of Muslim religious groups for example) or to defend the temporal interests of some of the brethren (business regulations for example).
26 Thus as a form of social identification, religious identity is frequently mingled with other forms of identity and may exceed the limits of strictly religious claims and concerns particularly when operating within the political system.13 This means that all religious groups be they minority or otherwise are involved in secular affairs and are confronted with the problems of power. They have to cope with the realities of political life which have developed according to the rules, norms and cultural references of the post-colonial state, but they have to also take into account their own characteristics and particularly the resources and weaknesses of their own western communities.14
27 Since Western European modernity was introduced to Africa through the project of colonialism, it tended to come with its preferred religious practices. Thus, through the brutalising pressures of colonialism African colonies found themselves surrendering their own religious belief systems to either Western Protestantism or Catholicism. At specific levels, Protestantism also came with its own dominant and minority discourses with some areas espousing the Anglican Church while others embracing Quakerism and Presbyterianism and so on. But all this happened against the backdrop of marginalised discourses narrating native spiritual and social realities. The trend continued within the post-independence dispensation. However, we have argued that minority religious discourses have, despite suppression from the dominating Western nation-state in Kenya, continued to thrive. The struggle between these discourses and the dominant narratives of the nation has been protracted and sometimes violent. But this struggle, too, represents deliberate efforts by the marginalised identities to free themselves from the exclusionist tyranny of the Western nation-state in Africa. Most importantly, members of these marginalised groups have fought to be accommodated at the centre of the nation-
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narration in so as to gain access to the social, economic and political commodities hitherto denied.
Mainstream religious organisations and the state
28 In the post-independence period the Christian-capitalist separation of state and church was deemed to be of fundamental importance in the development of modern centralised states. African rulers concentrated primarily on remaining in power and officially, but certainly secondarily, on building socially cohesive, economically successful polities. Religious, communal and regional issues were obviously unwelcome, regarded as “divisive” and inappropriate during the phase of state building. National leaders hoped that as citizens became “modernised” they would drop their “primordial” allegiances, become “developed” and follow secular ideologies of nationalism, state or “African” socialism and thus, aid state consolidation and centralisation.
29 There were several additional factors, which helped to produce particular relationships between religion and State. First, it was especially difficult for any manifestations of independent power to assert themselves for the first twenty or thirty years of the independence era, during which time the one-party or military regime seemed, rather powerful. The state’s security forces could quickly quell isolated manifestations of dissidence. Second, religious groups were usually slow to pronounce publicly on political issues because of the existence of two realms, the temporal and the sacred, which often resulted in the church “keeping its nose out of the state’s affairs.”15 Others did not have the capacity to speak because of ignorance and lack of knowledge of how to handle temporal issues. Third, mainstream religious institutions were also involved with the state in as much as political leaders expected them to be quiescent partners in the national- unity project. The former, by their control of educational and other welfare roles, were also of singular importance to many regimes, for the ability to replace the church in the provision of such goods was limited. As a result, the main churches were tolerated, even encouraged, and as long as they offered welfare services.
30 Historically, in Kenya the politics of religious freedom more directly interacts with national politics in part due to the instability of Kenyan politics. The words of Cherry Gertzel suffice. He says: Every state that has moved from colonialism to independence has sought to shape its inherited institutions to the changing circumstances and ideas of that independence seeking to move away from the colonial past they are concerned with adapting their political system to the needs of the independent society. But new states often like to seem newer than in fact they can be, for they all have to work within an inherited framework that is more difficult to change than it might appear.16
31 Before examining the state and minority religions in contemporary Kenya an analysis of the colonial era is requisite. To this end it is argued that the routes of contemporary relationships between religious groups and the state can be traced back to the period of the European colonialism which lasted from 1895 to 1963. During this time, there was clear affinity between Christian missionaries and colonial administrators and this as Haynes says “did not rest solely on their shared ‘Christian-ness’, as it were but was also bolstered by their shared European-ness.”17 That is to say, even though Christian officials and missionaries may on occasion have been unhappy with certain aspects of colonial policy,
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there were generally many more points of agreements, their disagreements between religious and secular colonial personnel. Both parties pursued a similar aim, to civilise the African. A further factor, which could have consolidated the ties between the European Church leaders and the secular colonial personnel, was the challenge of Islam. By later 18 th century, it was already a highly significant religion. Colonial administration in Kenya was both centralised and authoritarian. The rulers manifested a sense of superiority over those they ruled and power was experienced as coming from above rather than flowing from below. Thus the ruled developed a sense of the state as an alien institution, to be feared but also to be deceived and exploited, since it existed on a plane above people whom it governed, beyond any chance of content. African responses took various religious forms, one was the persistence of traditional religious patterns. In the early years of the colonial system a growing number of Africans began to join the African Independent Churches because they were seen as more in tune with the African religious needs than the hierarchical European dominated Churches.
32 Christian missionary work in Kenya only began with colonial rule and not before. Missionaries interacted with colonial governments from the onset.19 Nevertheless by 1920s and 1930s, there was a three-way relationship; at times conflictual, between missionaries, settlers and colonial churches and colonial authority over three issues; treatment of indigenous, land and education. From very early years the missions exerted great influence because they were pioneers in medical services, education and social welfare and economic development. Although they could at times be criticised for undue narrowness of view, they set standards, which were vitally needed.19
33 The relations between government and members of the churches were often strained but frequently cordial. From 1920s prominent clergy, such as the Rev. Dr. Arthur of the Kikuyu Church of Scotland Mission (henceforth CSM), in 1920s and Archdeacon (Bishop and later the Archbishop) Beecher of the Church Missionary Society (henceforth CMS) in the 1940s, had been nominated to represent the African interests on the Legislative and Executive Councils.20
34 The missionaries tried to resist many things in colonial Kenya. They disagreed with the settlers particularly on issues, which appeared oppressive to the Africans. In the Legislative Council (henceforth LegCo) where they represented African interests they seemed to represent an opposition wing of the council.21 But despite this, they never ventured into such issues outside the LegCo. Most clergy and church workers in colonial Kenya had a very restricted theology of power. Most of these workers of the CMS and CSM belonged to a conservative tradition, with its belief in individual salvation and the strict authenticity of the Bible. This legacy dominated the church in the Kenyatta era and the first Moi era, when the church showed unlimited loyalty to the state.
35 When the church supports the government and assists in formulating governing policies it usually defends the state and those policies. If the government then appears to serve the interest of many minorities against those of the majority, then the church becomes one of the oppressors. In view of this many missionaries most of whom were Anglicans may be seen to have assisted the colonial government in furthering the British interests in the colony. During this period, in the Anglican Church in British colonies “the Bishops in the British territories needed letters patent from the crown to make their consecration lawful just as English bishops did. It was assumed that their legal status was exactly that of bishops in the Church of England.”22
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36 In their efforts to implement colonial policies considered to liberate Kenyans from the barbarism of pre-colonial African life the missionaries participated in some of the oppression. Their gospel was hostile to much of the African cultural practices and favoured the western culture. As Welbourn asserts, The missionaries did not bring to Africa a “pure milk” of the gospel but a complex culture, which can be termed “Christian Western.” Missionaries are Europeans offering a culture which is Western as well as Christian, unable to escape, whether they wish it or not from identification with men of other professions of the same race.23
37 Like their colonial counterparts it has been established that the missionaries retained class boundaries and they segregated themselves from their converts and some of the missionaries discriminated against the African clergy. The missionaries, like their colonial counterparts, found it difficult to dislodge the paternal mantle of authority.24 The notion of the inferiority of African race was one of the reasons they were denied the opportunity of sitting in the Legislative Assembly with the Europeans. This alienated them from the policy-making institutions that discussed their affairs.
38 The Anglican Church was especially highly placed. First the majority of the settlers were members of the Anglican Church and the residence of the Archbishop in Nairobi was located with the government’s immediately outside the gate of the government house perhaps for ease of communication and consultation. During the First World War the CMS offered the government unqualified use of its personnel and property as that principle that “it is our first duty to render to the government any assistance in our power even though it may interfere with our work.”25 It is no wonder that the freedom agitators, associated them with the colonial order that oppressed them. This however portrays the existence of a very close relationship between church and state. However, Lonsdale argues that the church was not barred from holding political opinions. In fact the majority of missionaries in positions of authority in the mission churches were hesitant raise issues that would have contradicted the government policy in the colony due to the co- operation that existed.26 But while the colonial church defended the state, a few individual missionaries made their stand obvious concerning the African liberation. The most notable were Archdeacon Walter Edwin Owen of Kavirondo in western Kenya and Archdeacon Leonard Beecher who represented Africans in the LegCo.27
39 Generally, the British missionaries did not take a confrontational stance against the colonial government because “there was in England at the time a very close relationship between church and state.”28 Lonsdale observes that, the societies that were accorded an “established” status by the state such as CMS and CSM were frequently called upon by the colonial government as consultants.
40 The Catholic missionaries were not necessarily British and refrained from any conflict with the colonial powers and indeed as by one Catholic historian who asserted, “But how was the church to better the lot of local population if not by entering into some form of understanding with the colonial power?”29
41 But Catholics were acutely sensitive concerning their “foreign” status and so were not anxious to press any particular political view. This hesitancy was reinforced by continental European Catholics relations with State in the 19th century.30
42 In colonial times, main protestant bodies were politically quiescent. They possessed a limited theology of political power given their conservative evangelical tradition of strict adherence to biblical authority and the privacy of individual salvation. Both Anglican and
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Presbyterian (Church of Scotland Mission) churches developed a close semi establishment relations with the state long before independence. Perhaps this was possible because the church as well as the colonisers originated from the same place.31
43 Their close identification with the colonial order and the consequent lack of nationalist legitimacy meant that the main-line churches including the Catholic Church became hesitant to be embroiled with the post-independence State. Their chief fear was that the nationalists who had struggled were in power.
44 Towards the end of the colonial rule, Christian Mission Churches were regarded by some nationalists with great suspicions despite the fact that the majority of them were Christians. The role of the Mainstream Religious organisations in the context of the drive for independence was both complex and multifaceted.
45 Mission churches were agents of European domination and superiority and this was equivocally recognised by the Africans as the key to advancement in colonial society. Mainstream Christianity was significant for the colonial government established in 1895 in Kenya. It was tactfully employed in the pursuit of political domination.
46 On December 12, 1963 Kenya attained political independence with Jomo Kenyatta as the first head of state. The local elite took over the instruments of rule from the colonial powers. Kenya came to independence with a surge of optimism even euphoria. They began a modernising process but with no model. Before long the euphoria turned sour.
47 Kenya was a multiparty state soon after independence,32 but Kenya became a republic and a de facto one party state in December 1964. The adoption of one party states in Africa were to face constant attacks from dissident and some church leaders who felt that absence of an opposition was the main cause of state authoritarianism.33
48 In his first address to the nation his remarks were very religious. His message was a reconciliation that was biblically based and which alone could foster forgiveness. By adopting a stance that was religious Kenyatta was to make it difficult for the church leaders to criticise him for any mistake his government was to commit.
49 At independence, many of the churches were themselves still controlled by foreign mission boards and missionaries. This means that they were themselves unprepared for the role, which was thrust upon them, as they became self-governing. In some instances, it took considerable time for them to break free from the negative image of being the instincts of colonialists and to become churches in their own right. But whether the churches were supportive of the independence struggle for independence or not, it did not make much difference once independence was achieved. At the same time, the churches became increasingly cautious about intervening in the political arena. But there is no doubt that on the whole the post independent governments either wanted the full allegiance of the churches, or else they wanted them sidelined to purely spiritual activities. As most churches were pietistic in orientation, eschewing prophetic social witness, they generally concurred, preferring church-state peace and patronage to conflict, they were often only too willing to be co-opted and as a result they were unable to oppose the rise of dictatorships, clientelism and corruption in the post independent years. Such critically and prophetic witness as there was usually ecumenical in character, rather than denominational.34
50 Moreover, the identification with the colonial order and consequent lack of nationalist legitimacy meant that the main denominational churches including the Catholic were hesitant to be embroiled with the post Independence State once the nationalists were in
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power. The only body that could indulge in politics and the state was the National Christian Council Churches of Kenya (NCCK).
51 Kenyatta had pleaded with the churches to continue to help and maintain their co- operation with government particularly their support in bringing lasting unity among the different ethnic Kenyan communities.35 Many missionary leaders of founded churches had not participated in the freedom struggle. But Kenyatta wanted everybody to forget all their differences in order to participate in national development. Kenyatta’s emphasis on reconciliation and forgiveness made him appear as a leader ready to cherish Christian virtues. Under this political climate, the church was free to lay out its own development strategy.
52 In spite of these seemingly imaginary fears in the Kenyatta era
53 (1963—1970) the relations between the government and the churches remained relatively cordial. Like the mainline protestant churches, the Catholics felt well recognised by the first Kenyan President. Church and State relations seemed to have been sealed during Kenyatta’s installation as a political leader [Kenyatta]. On a platform, Kenyatta stood with two Catholic bishops, an Anglican Bishop with his chaplain and two Muslim Sheiks besides distinguished dignitaries.36To Christians, the churches became the most active and persistent voice of the Kenyan political discourse. Moreover they found that active church membership was one of the most practical tools in the day-to-day struggle for survival.37
54 Personal and ethnic activities as David Throup points out had implications for church capacity and relations with the state. Much of churches prior were derived from close family ties between Kenyatta and the church leadership as well as the fact that after independence the CPK, PCEA and Roman Catholics had all become increasingly dominated by Kikuyu Churchmen. Moreover, he emphasises the fact that influential positions in government were held by church lay members. But the churches’ power was not based on these connections alone, but the intensive social involvement throughout the country was by far the central foundation of the church’s power.38
55 The president’s own relations held positions of power in two of the main line churches (Monsignor Muhoho [Catholic] and Obadiah Kariuki [CPK]). Moreover, by independence the NCCK had also developed co-operation with the nationalist movement. There were limits to this understanding between the churches and the state because some of the nationalist leader’s position remained ambivalent.39
56 Given the position of the church soon after independence there was fear that the church might be controlled by certain political leaders and Henry Okullu warned in his publication in Target in 1972, that such times could be compared to the time of Constantine who managed to manipulate the church by offering government protection. Okullu remained an outspoken clergy throughout his life particularly over church state matters. Yet, in spite, of the scattered incidences of criticism, mainstream Church-state relations remained generally amicable.
57 The Church-state co-operation gained momentum when in 1964 Kenyatta called upon Kenyans and other residents irrespective of race, or origin, or religion to unite and build the country. For the church, this was a mere transfer of co-operation from colonial to independent Kenya. The two institutions had co-operated in their history in colonial Kenya. As already intimated, this was due to the influence of the relation between Churches and state in the United Kingdom, hence the main Protestant churches,
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organisations operating in Kenya (the church Missionary Society [CMS] and the church of Scotland Mission [CMS] had a close allegiance with the state.40
58 Such co-operation between Church and State at Independence was evidenced by the Church’s participation on December 12, 1963 at the Uhuru [Independence] celebrations. On this occasion, Kenyatta shared the dais with senior church leaders among them two Catholic bishops and two Anglican bishops.41 Similarly politicians who formed Kenyatta’s first parliament had been educated in the missionary schools and were also indebted to the Church’s contribution towards their education. There was close interaction between the Church leaders and politicians. Lonsdale’s observation affirms the scenario: Cabinet Ministers and other dignitaries spent much of their public time in opening schools, local leaders’ conferences, or urban welfare projects, with speeches that extol civic and Christian virtues. Such occasions for public exhortation are particularly important in Kenya where the political party has been allowed to wither away; the church and other voluntary associations have inevitably become more instrumental to the government in its efforts to enlist popular participation in “nation building” campaigns against poverty, ignorance and disease.42
59 The colonial legacy of non-confrontation characterised Church and state at Independence. There was a close relationship between church leaders and Kenyatta’s government.
60 Since the young Church, in the young nation that had not developed a new model of relationship with the State, the colonial model of Church and State co-operation, drawn from the established churches in UK dominated Kenya like any other former British colony.
61 Obviously then the church manifested a positive dimension of co-operation with the state. At the time of Independence Bishop Ndingi observed and condemned the “principle of subsidiarity.” He maintained that the Church and State needed to maintain complementary roles in developing the whole person. This was in compliance with the teaching of the gospel concerning the liberation of the human kind.43
62 Whereas co-operation was significant at this time, the co-operation between the church and state has been historically known to be a hindrance to the prophetic mission of the church. The clergy who would address the social and political dimension of the gospel were gradually emerging and were beginning to vocalise their observations. Henry Okullu, the then editor of Lengo and Target, NCCK magazines was the first to publicly protest over some issues. Okullu was later joined by Dr. David Gitari [later to become Bishop and Archbishop] from the CPK who became quite vocal in condemning the engagement of the state in political and social evils.44
63 Despite the pervasive and influential presence of the mainline protestant churches like CPK (later Anglican) in the education, health, social and economic realm, until the 1980s most of the activities remained on the fringes of the public political debate.45
64 The argument here is that the leaders of the mainstream religious organisations after independence were strongly supportive of the government of the day. These supportive relations could have been due to three factors, first the shared class concerns on the part of both sets of leaders, religious and temporal. The second was the strong desire by religious leaders to maintain influence, as far as possible, with political elites. And finally there was the normative concern on the part of both sets of elites that political stability was a good thing in itself and so both had to maintain it. Thus pragmatism dominated state religious institution relations in Africa.
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65 Similarly, the churches had a dense network of structures, bodies and organisations in virtually every social and economic sphere, together with its on-going physical presence among the people in their everyday lives through its religious services which gave it an organisational distinctiveness. The organisational distinctiveness gave it to channels of access. First it had contacts with peoples of all ages, classes, professions, ethnic background and localities gave it unparalleled insight into the needs and moods of people. The organisational web also afforded the means for broad dissemination of its doctrines, social and political view. This two-way web could also serve as a means of communication through the church to the people on behalf of the political elite. The state desired to use this for its own purposes. The churches also enjoyed various facilities such as radio broadcasting time and weekly newsletters published. Due to such relations, these churches were also financially independent, had international connections, which gave them immunity from government control and strengthened their position in the local arena.46
66 Leaders of these movements quickly realised the necessity of cultivating close links with political leaders in the post-colonial era. Denigrated to lower levels so big men would not want public association but secretly visit them. The responses concerning their observation on the government’s efforts to relate with the minority religious groups over time varied.
67 In post-colonial Kenya the right to believe in a religion and the freedom to worship were guaranteed in the constitution. Hence from independence serious attempts were made to respect this fundamental right and freedom. And whereas the Kenyan State seemed to have no official religion, religion remained in the forefront of a number of state functions, for example state functions were normally conducted in accordance with the Christian rites. Religion potentially the Protestant version of Christianity was also given ample time even in state radios and televisions. Moreover though Kenya is a secular state the majority of its leaders even this early had a religious leaning. However, the most powerful religious institution in Kenya was the Christian church and that is why most political commentaries were normally directed to the Christian church. In most instances politicians in particular tried to inform the church about the expectations of the government of them and what kind of a church independent Kenya desired. As the late Bishop Henry Okullu put it, “In Africa today the state seems to be writing the agenda for both itself and for the church.” Towards the end of the 1980s, mainline church leaders emerged from the stupor and began to critique government activities quite adversely vocal on various issues to the chagrin of the state.
68 Kenya became independent in 1963 following the departure of the British who had hitherto ruled the nation. The post-colonial Kenyan State became a secular state with features of liberal democracy such as legislative bodies, the executive and the judiciary. The trend during the 20th century was to work towards the establishment of liberal democracy although this was always negated by the country’s move towards authoritarianism. Although a secular state, religion always influenced both the evolution of the Kenyan State and the character it assumed after Independence.
69 In spite, of the claim that the country was secular, the state continued to be involved in many aspects of religion and in fact competed with religious organisations on certain issues. Notable examples included the supply of social services in education and health.
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70 In matters pertaining to governance (constitution, public order and nationalism) the state initially failed to realise that religion had enough cleavage in the body politic to warrant specific legal provisions. The constitutions did not provide for religion except for the limited reference to fundamental human rights. Tensions persisted in the 1970s, 1980s and 1990s. The explosive nature of religious activities compelled the state to issue many public orders to curtail break down of law and order by religious groups. In this chapter, an attempt is made to reconstruct the basic history and tenets of some of the religious groups and their interaction with the Kenyan nation state in the period between 1963 and 1978.
71 Here we simply identify the religious groups, which emerged in the said and precisely discuss their tenets history and interaction with the state. Secondly, the activities of the religious groups that emerged in colonial times but persisted into the post independence period are also analysed. They were part of the religious terrain, generated own history, added to existing tensions because of the rivalries with other bodies and tend to portray either an extremist or different image on a number of religious and secular issues. Such religious groups exerted considerable control on the members and were quick and ready to fight the state when they felt threatened. These groups are briefly analysed on the basis of evidence already adduced.
72 In 1978, when Mzee Kenyatta died he was replaced by President Daniel Toroitich arap Moi. In the Moi Era from 1978—2002 the situation did not dramatically change in the first years. The last part of this period he had become extremely authoritarian that he could not stand any opposition to him. It is at this time that the religious communities stiffly opposed certain misdeeds of the state. In Kenya during the 1980s, when all opposition political activity was banned, stiff opposition emanated from churchmen: the Anglican Bishops Gitari,
73 Muge and Okullu, and the Presbyterian Timothy Njoya. At the end of the decade the Catholic bishops began to play a similar role.
74 Given the severe limitations imposed on the intermediary structures between state and society, with the context of unlimited exercise of state power, the church took the “substitution” role.47 This role was legitimised by the church through its theology. The church indeed enjoyed tremendous power that was widely acknowledged had a large constituency for which it was expected to speak, since it had the cohesive structure, a firm organisation and a solidly unified institution. It was on the ground of this that its luminaries spoke with vigour (e.g. Henry Okullu and others). By mid 1980s, and in the absence of the effective alternative forums, only church leaders had the freedom and the power to criticise without detention. Out of this controversy concerning church state relations would ensue. From early 1980s the right of the church to criticise the state was seriously challenged by the politicians. They acknowledged that the church and the state had emerged as two antagonistic powers and the government viewed the church as impinging on state prerogative.48 In the public debate, which emerged in the 1980s and early 1990s, the government sought to establish a clear separation between the prophetic and the political mandating the church to be involved in the prophecies.
75 Although Church—State controversy was not unknown during Kenyatta’s era, the confrontations between the religious and secular leadership became more frequent under Moi’s reign. Concerns were related to the fact that curtailment of civil rights and freedom of expression.
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76 During the early years of Moi’s rule the Roman Catholic Church kept a remarkably low profile on political issues.49 The silence of the Catholic Church gained it praises from politicians who maintained that the church had to confine itself to religious issues.50 Generally, the KANU government managed to keep the Catholic Church silent on political issues by pouring constantly praises on its leadership.51
77 The Catholic hierarchy unlike in other established mainline churches approached political issues in collegiality.
78 As the Church to strengthen its opposition outside parliament, so did the KANU politicians increase their attack on church leaders.52 The concerns of the Church leaders were order and good governance and that is why the complaints about rigging were wide spread. But those in the government to civil order by condoning what public considered inimical. The call for change by church leaders and other dissidents was a consequence of people’s lack of confidence in the government in power.53
79 From 1986 to 1992 Kenya turned into an authoritarian state. The church emerged as defenders of the voiceless in society, at a time when other agitating groups like the Law Society of Kenya had succumbed to harassment. During this period, the church distanced itself from the KANU government in order to fill an opposition vacuum created by a one- party authoritarian state. The state was engaged in the erosion of civil liberties, increasing human rights violations the stifling of all opposition and an unprecedented consolidation of power which the church leaders felt they could addressed without being thrown into prison.54
80 The criticisms of the government by Muge, Gitari and Okullu put the KANU politicians on the defensive. They had already christened the CPK as the church of the politics of Kenya, which had been serving the interests of “foreign masters.” The bishops had previously been threatened with the withdrawal of their freedom of worship for their failure to “respect” the government.55 In its struggle with the KANU government it was defending the citizens against oppression by the state when it was difficult to use any other machinery in Kenya.56
81 The Church leaders in the second Nyayo era attempted to establish the limits of the power of State, first through their study of the Bible. In defending the people against state extremism, the Church was playing the role the elder. Their concerns were government violation the constitution by its failure to uphold people’s rights especially through the provision of excessive power to the presidency. Church leaders constantly cautioned the government against the abuse of its power, which could be generated by authoritarianism.
82 Due to both local and international pressure in early December 1991 Moi initiated a special conference of KANU delegates, which resolved to permit the introduction of a multiparty political system. Soon afterwards the National Assembly approved appropriate amendments to the constitution.57 It was then announced that both the subsequent presidential and legislative elections would be in the context of multiparty by March 1993.58
83 The outspoken church leaders became the real driving forces towards change59 and the church acted as the society’s conscience by speaking on behalf of whole people. It enabled other dissidents in the government and bound by the oath of allegiance, to oppose the government and the President.
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84 The Church in the 1990s confronted the State by mobilising the citizenry against the authoritarianism. It created a situation that would lead to accountability of the state to the people the government would become accountable the people it represented. They did this through their sermons and pastoral letters. Inter-church and religious groups not only championed the cause of multiparty democracy, but were also intermediaries both between opposition political parties and governments.60 The NCCK on behalf of the member churches viewed democracy as a way of life and argued that democracy essentially involved placing value on humankind. Humankind possessed fundamental freedoms and human rights, making all people equal before the law.61
85 The church’s role in the multiparty era (through the NCCK) was a major breakthrough in the history of the Christian Church in Kenya. First it forced a dialogue with the government through the media and through the KRC. Secondly it pressurised the government to repeal Section 2A and return the country to a multiparty system and finally it launched a teaching programme to expose the citizenry to the demands of multiparty. And thirdly it educated the citizens about defending themselves against manipulation by those in power by fully participating in the democratisation process.
86 The clarion call for change by the church and other political dissidents was strongly resisted by the KANU government. It challenged the government on matters related to accountability and protection of its people. It raised the issues of democracy and good governance on behalf of the voiceless Kenyans. This was mainly because of the failure of government to render good governance. In the prevailing circumstances, the church was the strongest challenger of President Daniel arap Moi and his KANU government. The churches open demand for change in the political system where the regime made it the strongest force in the struggle for multiparty democracy in Kenya.62 But why would the state regard the role of the Mainline Churches. This was because it was a force to reckon with. In any case they had related with the church earlier times as a capable ally.
Alternative Visions and the State: Indigenous Religious Groups
87 Soon after the establishment of colonial rule African response seemed to assume different focus. Some collaborated, others turned to violence but then there was also the emergence of violent cults and religious independency. African churches arose between the World Wars as a reaction to situations characterised by severe instability and change following European conflict. They helped deal with the effects of cultural and political subjugation during colonial period. At the end of colonial rule they did not die off and they have survived to date for apparently different reasons.
88 Such movements were the manifestation of popular religious movements with a number of interrelated religious, social and political goals. The emergence of such religions was often explained in terms of the unique pressures and transformations associated with colonisation.63
89 Their emergence in colonial times was seen as contrasting with and in opposition to colonial religious institutions whether those of mission churches or of reified traditional religion. Hence nearly all religious movements whether witchcraft eradication movements or millenarian sects, have been treated as explicable in terms of special pressures and transformations of colonialism. One such movement was Dini ya Msambwa
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(henceforth DyaM). It could have risen because of number of reasons such as the context of colonial oppression or as a response to cultural and psychological tensions and not expressions of political antagonism.64
90 Buijtenhujis challenged and disputed Audrey Wipper’s (1977) interpretation of the DyaM movement in western Kenya. Predictably, he found that DyaM “is not a political protest movement but a social and cultural protest movement.” Meanwhile a markedly ferocious exchange between Jan De Wolf (1983) and Audrey Wipper (1983) herself further spelled out their conflicting interpretations of this Western Kenyan movement.65
91 These attempts to portray African religious movements as either purer than inferior to political activity are no more convincing, however, than previous notions that they were essentially part of the sequence of anti-colonial nationalism. Few can study these movements without feeling that even if they were not unequivocally anti colonial they constituted a form of politics; without sensing rationality in their irrationality; without being struck by the instrumentality of their symbols. DyaM was a good example of these African indigenous responses colonial situation.
92 Basically, DyaM was fighting for space or recognition within the colonial system, which would neither listen nor provide the space. The founder had grievances, which seemed fair. Elijah was a defiant and impatient person and ignored threats from the church and did not obey orders from the Native Tribunal Court, which he served from 1937 to 1942. He was clear that for his people to be accommodated within the colonial space they needed a religion firmly rooted in their traditions and way of life, a religion that would be comprehensible and meaningful as well as sympathetic to the peoples social code. Christianity was not a place to feel at home, they needed a religion, which could blend African traditions and the more wholesome parts of Christianity.
93 DyaM attracted a large following, which considered it “our own religion” as distinct from the established churches.66 Despite descriptions from a hostile colonial system, his members regarded him as messiah, and his religion as the rightful and true religion. For example, they declared, “Europeans have long troubled us; we have now got our own God. Let us go forward.”67 As the leader of the sect Elijah fought for space. He was able to exploit the grievances of the people, and champion their cause, win their support. Despite government measures to stamp it out by making itself intolerable to the members, they continued with their activities by night on Mt. Elgon. They threatened the administration with death and sent all sorts of letters to them. Throughout the attitude was defiant and arrogant. Again throughout this period for DyaM politics and religion were intermixed. The state used state violence to respond. But despite efforts to guzzle the movement it spread further afield.68 Moreover, it survived into independent Kenya.
94 Obviously then emergence of organised protest movements among Kenyan communities came mainly as a result of growing discontent against the policies of the missions and the colonial administration. The minority independent Christian Churches/culture movements were automatically rendered strange bedfellows with the state, the moment they delinked from the Mission bodies and made their own concoctions. Evidently Christianity was largely associated with European colonial domination of large numbers of Africans. Many left to join the burgeoning African Independent Churches and cults.
95 At the declaration of the state of emergency in 1952, the independent churches and other suspect religious practices suffered a blow. Some operated underground whereas others were totally banned and survived from operation and only in name. DyaM was banned but
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its operations went underground. Independence was the occasion for its re-emergence in public. The post-independent government, however, endorsed the re-emergence of all religious groups although DyaM ignored Kenyatta’s call for its immediate registration.
96 The re-emergence of DyaM in the post-colonial period, witnessed the release of Masinde and some of his followers from detention. When Masinde was released from prison in 1961, after 13 years in detention, he was given a hero’s welcome and indication of the special place Masinde held in the hearts of the people.69
97 On April 12, 1964, Jomo Kenyatta revoked the colonial order that had declared DyaM an illegal society. Those imprisoned nevertheless had to complete their sentences. The new government, which took power in 1963, told DyaM to register like any other religious organisation in order to resume its activities and obtain official recognition. The alternative was to disband and refrain from secret activities. Despite the fact that it was not registered, DyaM continued to hold meetings and the government arrests persisted because its meetings were regarded as illegal.
98 In May 1964, DyaM was registered and one of its objectives was to abide by the law of the land and to be non-political. But its constitution remained a mere piece of paper, for soon after, Masinde got embroiled in the crosscurrents of Kenyan politics. Rumours were rife indicating that Elijah would head a new party, since he was quite categorical that he would not join any of the existing parties, which were disunited. He said “I want to tell the political leaders to unite on every major national issue. I shall ask them why they are in so much disputes, delaying the country’s independence.”70
99 He later gave support to KANU in an area predominated by Kenya African Democratic Union (henceforth KADU) and referred to Kenyatta as “my greatest friend” at a KANU rally in Kitale, reassuring that both of them suffered for the cause of saving Kenya. He even stated that God had revealed secrets to him during his sleep. The Kitale politicians did not take this well.71 His own community was angered by him on this matter. Moreover his followers began to engage in a number of disruptive activities. They invaded missionary centres and ordered them to leave. Most of such incidents occurred during the 1964—65 Congo crisis. One of them occasioned the rush of police reinforcements to Kimilili because it was feared that DyaM members could easily resort to violence against the American missionaries in the vicinity.
100 The community was also adversely affected by the DyaM activities. The overnight ceremonies particularly night drumming was a major disturbance and he was warned by the local chief. He led his followers in sacrifices and condemned those who had purchased land in Maitri hill declaring that DyaM followers would snatch the lands for free. He even castigated several policemen for spying on their meetings and caned two members arrived at the venue of the meeting in a police car. Meanwhile the Africans who owned land, reported to the powers that be, their fears of DyaM’s activities with regard to land.72
101 In the first years of independence, DyaM’s major project was the construction of their own schools because their adherents could not raise fees to take their children to government and mission schools. Despite lack of facilities and teachers, they proceeded with the construction of schools and some parents withdrew their children from government schools and enrolled them in DyaM schools, which provided free education. The District Education Officer repeatedly warned Masinde to either register his schools or close them down to no avail. Perhaps years of opposition to colonial government had taken their toll on Msambwa’s amenability to any government authority. The
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government was not ready to take what it considered disobedience subsequently the government charged DyaM for starting illegal schools. Their case was heard in Bungoma in November 1965 and those responsible were fined and released.
102 Masinde was becoming a jailbird with numerous charges against him. On September 23, 1968 Masinde was again released for taking the law into his own hands when he beat up Grace Nasimiyu for philandering. On this date they visited her at work, a local bar in Kimilili and made a declaration that it was illegal for harlots to operate in town and beat her up, forcefully took her back to her former husband, and ordered her to defrock before them for cleansing ceremony. Soon after the function, she reported to police and both Masinde and her husband were arrested and given terms of two years and one year in prison respective.73
103 Masinde’s confrontations with the authorities took on a characteristic pattern, his confrontations were in public places, they were showy events and yet such confrontations were significant for each party concerned as a test of their power. For instance, in May 1972 in Kenyatta Avenue Kitale at around 1 o’clock, he began to stop all vehicles along that road because they seemed to interfere with the crowd he was addressing. Efforts by skeletal police who happened to arrive at the scene to stop him were futile, when they went to seek reinforcement, Masinde had departed with his followers.
104 Masinde’s predilection for confrontations with the authorities was also reciprocated by the powers that be. The police had had enough of Masinde’s disturbances and were on the alert for any excuse to keep him in jail. He was severally arrested on charges of “conduct likely to cause a breach of peace, incitement to defiance of lawful authority, obstructing police officer in carrying out his duty, resisting arrest, being a member of unlawful society and holding unlawful meetings.” In the 1960s and the 1970s he had so many cases that some ran concurrently. For Masinde and his followers, the police was their enemy number one.
105 Masinde complained against police harassment and often for his redetention to save him from police threats. But the persistence of Masinde’s revolutionary activities in postcolonial times caused concern. The community was experiencing him daily due to his confrontation with authority. He was an individual condemned and ridiculed, viewed as an agitator and not a nationalist. Some went to the extent of requesting his detention. Masinde’s erratic moods and eccentricities were no longer admitted, in fact, the opinion grew that he was demented. His followers also continually reduced in numbers.74 They were tired of paying the fines. Masinde further compounded his diminishing numbers of followers by denouncing Kenyatta’s government as one of usurpers and predicted that Kenyatta would be short. In December 1966, the Attorney General Charles Njonjo regretted that the government had released Masinde because it was premature. He claimed that Masinde’s release was based on assurance of some of its members concerning his transformation and that he would henceforth cooperate with the government. Njonjo declared DyaM a bogus religion and used as a tool to earn some income by Masinde. Consequently, the government continued to keep DyaM under surveillance.75 In 1968 the Vice President warned that DyaM would be banned if it persisted in holding political ideologies and destructive tendencies to disunite the people of North Nyanza.76 Finally in October 1968, the Attorney General Charles Njonjo proscribed DyaM as a “society dangerous to the good government of Kenya” because it preached sedition and revolt and not the word of God.77
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106 In the same year, tangible property owned by DyaM was lost, the Elijah Masinde Building fund account with Barclays Bank was closed on government orders and its balance of KSh 1,557.35 confiscated in accordance with the societies Acts of 1968 and the movement was proscribed in the same year.
107 Some sections of the local Bukusu community also dismissed the religiosity/spirituality of DyaM due to its syncretistic nature, preaching politics instead of religion, member’s failure to subscribe to local standards and the more general customs of the Christian behaviour (they drank excessively, smoked bhang, committed adultery) and engagement in idolatry. The locals described the followers as fanatics, uneducated, ignorant, lazy, no progressive, emotional, and immoral and malcontents. But these were subjective designations by local people. Negative stereotypes both in the colonial and postcolonial periods, but perhaps the cohort of followers were different in both periods.
108 The loyal members were persuaded that Masinde was an innocent victim of the police and government harassment and were appalled that an African government not only arrested him but also treated him like any ordinary lawbreaker. They expressed fury that President Kenyatta failed to intervene on behalf of (the messiah) an individual who had agitated for Kenya’s political independence and was even detained for more years than Kenyatta. Moreover, he had supported Kenyatta in his bid for power. According to his followers, Masinde was undergoing persecution and disappointment and bitterness gave rise to a myth, that Kenyatta’s government was doomed because of the maltreatment of Masinde. They prophesied that a new prophet would emerge overthrow Kenyatta and Masinde would rule and his former persecutors would seek his forgiveness and pardon.78
109 In 1975, while Masinde was serving a jail term, the movement, as far as could be ascertained, became inactive. This did not mark the demise of the movement because soon after his release he was again popping comments on all issues even political leadership. Several times the courts referred him to Mathari Mental Hospital to ascertain his sanity but the moment he was discharged he would consistently comment on the political order of the day. He led his group in agitation even at the time when detention without trial was legal and even president Moi was uncomfortable with him. But in 1987 he died as Kenyans were hounded by political intolerance. His movement survives and may not necessarily be politically active.
110 It is obvious that despite the coexistence of the minority religious groups and the state, they had numerous issues of grievances, thwarted hopes, state manipulation that caused them to voice their marginality.
111 The pressure of the minority religious groups during the Moi era seemed to be minimal, possibly because most of them lacked the capacity to handle trouble at this level. Most of them were also engaged in internal wrangling, that they frequently called for state intervention. Those that wrangled lost their credibility as forces to reckon with. The engagement of the minority churches in politics may not be significant, because for many of them politics was never an issue because their concerns related to their maintenance and retention of their religious traditions. They would rise against government if it interfered with their religious traditions. They would respond violently.
112 In the late eighties and early 1990s many religious groups which were difficult to categorise begun to emerge. They seemed to have an unclear agenda but which had political overtones. An example of these was Mungiki, a supposed religious movement clothed with diverse aspirations ranging from political to religio-cultural and socio-
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economic liberation. One of the dramatic aspects of the Mungiki was its prophetic and vocal fight for the political liberation of Kenyans through a return to indigenous shrines.
113 Mungiki was a religio-political movement composed mainly of large masses of Gikuyu origin, mostly youths in the 18-40 age groups with exceptional cases in the 40-60-age bracket. In the 1990s, the movement was estimated, by its national co-ordinator, to have about one and a half million members, including 400,000 women. This number remained questionable, but their members were distributed around Nairobi, particularly within the slums, and scattered in Central and Rift Valley Provinces.
114 Its membership comprised mostly the victims of land clashes on the eve of the 1992 multiparty general elections in Kenya, the majority of whom had minimal education and hence composed mainly of low-income earners in the jua kali (appropriate technology or “hot sun”) sector. The group strongly resented exploitation and the accumulation of massive wealth by a small proportion of Kenyans, especially in top political ranks and at the expense of the masses, which were left landless and jobless. Mungiki followers demonstrated their goodwill by sharing resources among themselves.79
115 Since the group comprised the less advantaged in society they equated the term Mungiki with oppression, exploitation, and alienation of the masses. Initially the aim of Mungiki was to sensitise people against the government, which they accused of starting and fuelling the 1992 clashes. It started administering oaths of unity to its members to effectively retaliate against the violence. The movement immediately alarmed the government to the extent that to date its individual members and its assemblies have been victimised by the police.80
116 Mungiki members were initially part of the Tent of the Living God—a sect founded by Ngonya wa Gakonya in 1987, with a large following in Central, Nairobi and Rift Valley Provinces. Ngonya nurtured the idea of Tent movement from as early as 1960. He started sensitising people about African religious beliefs to the elders chagrin and joined the Akorino sect briefly in 1980s, before breaking away. Thereafter, he engaged in rigorous public campaigns, which were banned in 1990 after a mass rally held at the Kamukunji grounds in Nairobi. Consequently, Ngonya was arrested and imprisoned for two years. His release, through a presidential amnesty, coincided with the clamour for political pluralism in Kenya. Leaders of the Tent decided to form a political party, which they argued, would play a role as the forerunner to a religious culmination. The Democratic Movement (DEMO), a political party, was born, with Ngonya as its interim leader but was denied registration because of its religious background81 or, as its leaders argue, it was blocked by the ruling party KANU from participation in the 1992 parliamentary elections, for fear it might win. Ngonya later collaborated with KANU, a move that caused some of his followers to denounce him as evidence that he lacked principles.82
117 Mungiki was a splinter group more vibrant than the Tent of the Living God. It maintained secrecy due to fear of being hounded and subsequently detained. However, the group benefited from freedom of worship, expression and association with the advent of multiparty politics in 1992.
118 The main objective of the Mungiki was to unite and mobilise the Kenyan masses and to fight against the yoke of mental slavery. Although initially exclusively a Gikuyu affair, the group expected to embrace all other Kenyans through similar but autonomous movements that would revive the heritage of other African peoples.83 Mungiki had four aims: to unite the Gikuyu people, and consequently, other Kenyans; to redeem the Gikuyu
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from Western culture brought about by Christianity and colonialism; to liberate the Kenyan masses from political oppression and economic exploitation; and to restore Africans to their indigenous values, culture and religion.
119 The notions of the denunciation and repudiation of foreign worship, specifically Christianity, and the reversion to indigenous shrines caused much controversy, and misunderstanding resulting in a chorus of condemnation of the Mungiki movement by many Kenyans. The church and the state, in particular, were quite vocal in condemning this belief. Given that the sect seemed to propagate a subversive doctrine and agenda the Church needed to reject and combat it decisively, in particular its demonstrations. Its action amounted to a clear onslaught against the established churches. Further, it seemed a fundamentalist movement with a religious, political and cultural agenda: its slogans were heretical and its philosophy of isolation was a dangerous move to alienate the Gikuyu community and set it on a collision course with the government and other communities.84 Its followers denounced ferociously the Christian faith with all its beliefs and practices due to their irrelevance. Christianity and its appendage, the Bible created mental slavery and mental colonisation from which the Gikuyu and all other Kenyans had to rid themselves off. Since God would not support corruption, corrupt Christians were not genuine worshippers of God.85
120 Mungiki emphasised the political polarity in Kenya during Moi’s reign was a consequence of abandoning African culture and religion. They criticised Moi’s political system for its persistent oppression, amassing of wealth through seasoned corruption, grabbing public land, bribery, and economic exploitation of the masses.
121 Mungiki associated every problem ailing Kenya with Moi. However they were also aware that Europeans had also strategically planned and created economic hardships that plagued Kenya throughout time. Neo-colonialism escalated the economic hardships. Given that Western religion was also used to oppress Africans, Mungiki would in turn use its religion to mobilise and fight for African rights and identity. They vehemently rejected the accusation that they were regressive. Mungiki proposed an indigenous religio-political revolution. Members operated like terror gangs. They raided police stations, engaged in bloody battles over control of local public transport and repulsed police raids.86 As a result, the authorities always described it as illegal organisation and disrupted all its meetings.
122 The local press reported Mungiki’s clashes with the authorities. Church leaders and government officials continuously and vehemently condemned the movement. The KANU government was so anxious about the sect and several times the Member of Parliament for Molo, Kihika Kimani, paraded groups of deadlocked youths at presidential rallies in Nakuru town, introducing them as repentant Mungiki followers. The Mungiki leadership swiftly denounced these as impostors used to gain political advantage. According to the sect’s followers, conversion to Mungiki was irreversible.
123 The sect has, however, clearly acquired impetus from several political events. A case in point occurred on December 12, 1998.
124 Waruinge organised his own congress at Mukurweini-wa-Gathanga the mythical home of origin for the Gikuyu people, 17 kilometres from Murang’a town since it is situated on government land, gazetted as a National Monument on November 19, 1998, it was controlled by the state. Chanting Mau Mau war songs and reciting traditional prayers, the
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sect hoisted their flag with the stern warning that they would not tolerate further disruption of their religious activities by the government.
125 The Murang’a County Council, under whose jurisdiction the shrine fell, immediately declared it out of bounds for the Mungiki. The Mungiki invoked their constitutional right to hold prayers at the Heritage site at any time, even during the public celebrations. They based this claim on the constitution which allowed freedom of worship, and which did not stipulate time and venue. The only non-Gikuyu epithet read Muungano wa Ukombozi, the Kiswahili words for “liberation movement.”
126 Members constantly expressed concern for the politics of contemporary Kenya and bitterly lamented KANU’s machinations that split the original Forum for the Restoration of Democracy (FORD) party which would have removed KANU from power. They criticised the widespread political oppression, poverty and violence experienced by Kenyans at the hands of government agents in the same breath as they condemned cultural and religious imperialism. (OI: Scattered members).
127 Their protests were sometimes very violent, for instance, on Sunday 3 March 2002, 200 to 300 Mungiki adherents terrorised the residents in a section of Nairobi’s Kariobangi North estate. They rampaged through the busy streets and alleyways, armed with an assortment of panga, swords, iron bars and knives, violently assaulting local residents and passers-by. The carriage was gruesome. By morning, 20 residents were confirmed dead, and a further 31 had been admitted to hospital with serious injuries.87
128 The attitude of the police and government to their activities at this time raised a number of questions. These questions became all sharper following the attack, when it was revealed that Kasarani MP, Adolf
129 Muchiri, had reported his fears about the tension in Kariobangi two weeks prior to the massacre. The police and office of the president was aware because the information had been appropriately given them. On the very day of the attack, Muchiri on three occasions contacted the police to inform them of the imminent violence by Mungiki was likely in Kariobangi.
130 Public concern over police failure to take adequate steps to prevent the violence was deepened by the reports of police heavy-headedness, insensitivity and general incompetence in rounding-up supposed “suspects” upon their arrival in Kariobangi some hours following the attack. It was almost evident that the State could not guarantee the full application of the law. Granted, the law promised a lot, but no one was arrested in connection with the killings and to date that is a silent chapter in Kenya’s history. It was also evident that the state kept altering its stance against Mungiki. Failure of the police to do their primary job of dealing with crime and preventing breakdown of law and order was evident in this incident.
131 The rising tension gave birth to injury and death due to the absence of civil order and lack of a symbol of authority they could trust to arbitrate their conflicts and punish wrongdoing as well as an authoritative deterrent to the expression of their violent emotions. Evidently there was a vacuum in the reassurance of law and order in their lives, for all weekend, the Government was comatose. But possibly the ambivalent behaviour could have been due to the states change of stance regarding Mungiki.
132 Mungiki members like others lacked employment and resorted to supplying the political thuggery and violence; they re-engineered themselves into security managers parallel to the police. They arrogated to themselves police powers and duties. They actually
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succeeded in creating an image of efficiency, which the police lacked. They manned matatu terminus, patrolled estates and arbitrated in disputes.
133 Underlying these fears was the suspicion that the slaughter had been politically motivated. There was widespread speculation, reported in all Kenyan newspapers, that Mungiki members were in fact protected by senior politicians, that the violence had been orchestrated for political ends, and that Mungiki even had recruits within the ranks of the police force. This conclusion was reached because before 2002 police had been violently breaking up Mungiki meetings, but in 2002 it had been allowed to hold rallies in Nairobi, Thika and Nyandarua. Some KANU officials even participated in these meetings and donated money.88 Many analysts saw the Kariobangi attack as symptomatic of Kenya’s growing culture of political violence, making connections with other incidents of vigilantism elsewhere in the country and with previous cases of politically mobilised inter-ethnic violence surrounding the elections campaigns of 1992 and 1997.
134 From its inception in the early 1990s, Mungiki was one of Kenya’s most controversial religious sects, demonised by all and sundry. Mainstream Church leaders, the authorities, and President Moi described it as “illegal, Satanic and violent,” viewing it as a sinister, anti- Government movement motivated by tribal atavism. On the other hand, it was supported to the hilt by a few Members of Parliament from Kikuyu-dominated areas in Central Province, parts of Rift Valley and Nairobi. Thus, to many Kenyans, the sect was a Kikuyu movement with a hidden political agenda.
135 Mungiki had many lives and in intense moments disappeared and re-emerged with new force for instance in August 2001 everyone, was taken aback by the new-look Mungiki Sect during one of its meeting. The speakers sounded transformed and the members were unusually law-abiding, peaceful and conciliatory in their political utterances. They exuded confidence and pride as they trooped, cycled and rode to the industrial town’s Starehe grounds, while local traders took no chances and closed shop in case there was a violent confrontation between the visitors and police.89 At the Thika meeting just before the 2002 general elections they also seemed well organised, the venue properly arranged and sufficiently decorated. At the climax of the meeting Mr Waruinge announced that the sect would be transformed into a political movement—not a party—targeting 150 of the 210 constituencies through the various parties. He was clear about its financial ability, and the qualities they expected an aspiring presidential candidate. This time the police allowed the sect to hold what the co-ordinator described as an “annual delegates’ meeting” to chart out its future stand in the socio-political landscape. To observers, the sudden Government turn around to allow Mungiki to hold a meeting, especially one with such a strong political agenda, was unusual.
136 The Moi era had paradoxes for Mungiki the beginning was hectic but later there was change as they related well with the state obtaining much encouragement. They engaged in public demonstrations with state approval. Moi at this time was described as a wise and understanding person, a visionary leader and with the conception of the value of morality. Due to the fine relations, Mungiki experienced phenomenal growth and got a lot of moral and financial support from KANU politicians. It is possible that Moi’s regime tolerated Mungiki for political gain.
137 As at 2002, Mungiki leaders engaged in critiquing politicians the Moi government was apprehensive about. They criticised Mwai Kibaki, then official leader of the opposition in the then Parliament, and the Kikuyu-based Gikuyu, Embu and Meru association (GEMA). Mungiki seemed to have been financed to erode the influence of Mr Kibaki’s Democratic
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Party in Central Province. Their appreciation of Moi for his decision ready to step down in 2002 elections in favour of a young contender seemed unbelievable given their past relationship. To many observers, Waruinge’s move was reminiscent of Mr Ngonya wa Gakonya’s Tent of the Living God sect, which was very vocal against the government before the first multi-party elections in 1992, but which faded away as soon as KANU romped home. So as the clock ticked closer to 2002 General Election, It was interesting to note where this born-again movement was headed.90
138 Inferences could be made concerning this rally, first, that the Mungiki rally was sanctioned by KANU and second, that Mungiki was emerging from the tribal garb to entertain the yearning for national unity. Ironically, they affirmed that they would be decisive in this action and not merely watch the country “go to the dogs.”
139 Due to its activities during the pre-election fever, Mungiki was initially not accepted soon after Moi left power however, it garnered support from strange quarters. In 2003 the US State Department in its 2003 Annual report on International Religious Freedom criticised the Kenya Government of “harassing” the Mungiki sect.91 Kenya was accused of “frequently harassing and periodically arresting and detaining” members of Mungiki. Perhaps the State Department’s critique may have been misplaced because obviously the report did not take cognisance of the many violent incidents the sect had been implicated in.
140 The State Department’s assessment of religious freedom, especially regarding the handling of Mungiki, seemed be weird but it had a precedent in Kenya itself. This opinion was also expressed four months after the Government banned the sect along with 17 other organisations in March 200292 by the National Council of Churches of Kenya (NCCK), when it released a report in praise of some of Mungiki practices and beliefs as “progressive.” The report hailed the sect for preaching self-reliance, hard work and independence. NCCK report was amazing because the oldest umbrella body for Kenyan Protestants considered female genital mutilation and tobacco sniffing, as the sect’s only “retrogressive practices.” This countered the individual churches opinion about Mungiki.
141 Mungiki’s presence as religious groups in Kenya would be considered a sign of the religions muddle for while religion might have played a role in its formation observers believed that it was no longer a key characteristic of the group. It claimed to espouse a return to Kikuyu traditional religion and cultural practices. But as at 2003, its members were freed to join any religion and indeed its own national co-ordinator Ndura Waruinge converted to Christianity in 2003. This was also evidenced earlier in 2002 when they tried to woo Muslims to become their allies. It failed. Mungiki’s initial religious mission espousing the Kikuyu culture seemed to wane.
142 At the inception of the Kibaki government at the start of 2003 Mungiki had become on its own preoccupied with arrogance and self assumed importance that it began issuing numerous threats. The security officers responded to this severely with the blessings of the government until Mungiki followers had to change identity. In the year 2004 there was a resurgence of its activities and the government remained mum raising numerous suspicions concerning its relations with the majority of the politicians of the Kikuyu ethnicity. Mungiki retreated into a level of secrecy that seeking information from and about them became an extensively risky affair. This remains the position to date and available evidence indicates that in any agitation, the government might find it a viable tool to cause fear and acrimony.
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143 In the Kibaki era, Mungiki adherents experienced total harassment, intimidation, persecutions, arrests and systematic extermination of the group and a “demonisation of the religious movement.” The government even encouraged Mungiki members to defect to other religions. The minister for internal security vowed in 2003 to completely destroy Mungiki and these immensely annoyed members who went underground. However in the same year the state’s ambivalence regarding Mungiki was noteworthy. It began to be used as a tool to terrorise and subjugate other Kenyans. Indeed its Mungiki forces that were used by President Kibaki and his cronies to fight in the towns of the Rift Valley and Nairobi on behalf of the Kikuyu ethnicity during the post election violence in Kenya in the recent past. In 2008 after the post election violence Mungiki made a number of stand- offs to which the state machinery failed to respond leaving the population wondering and speculating.
144 The evident ambivalence with regard to Mungiki in both the Moi and Kibaki governments occurred only before they knew how to utilise Mungiki. At this moment they meted violence on Mungiki but the moment they discovered that Mungiki could also be manipulated and controlled, they withdrew into their cocoons.
145 Conclusively this religio-political movement adopted Gikuyu religion as a weapon to challenge political and religious authority. In Mungiki, religion became a tool to mobilise the masses for active resistance and to claim liberation and justice, as demonstrated by its condemnation of ethnicity, tribalism, nepotism, oppression, bribery, corruption, idleness, immorality, drug abuse, crime, and so on. However, despite their efforts to condemn ethnicity and tribalism, by establishing a purely Gikuyu sect in terms of culture, beliefs, and practices, they were promoting the same vices they opposed and alienated many Kenyans.
146 Mungiki operated on the shoulders of the Radical Restoration—“Tent of the Living God,” which emerged in 1987. According to informants, the leader was the radical Ngonya wa Gakonya, then the 52 year-old leader of a “back-to-the-golden-Kikuyu-culture” movement known as the “Tent (dwelling) of the Living God” and advocate of “Africanity” (his word). Ngonya wa Gakonya was an outspoken advocate of traditional African ways of worship. He had interesting observations:
147 African religion is perhaps the oldest in the history of mankind. But the [conventional] Church has ignored its existence and its values. We have come to demand the return to our culture through our churches. Most people do not understand religion. The greatest religion is in the homestead that is why when there is a crisis, we go back to our homesteads.
148 Basic tenets of the movement were straightforward and, according to Ngonya, “similar to the beliefs of the Zulu and other African communities across the continent.” Myths of Kikuyu origin focused on Mt. Kenya, toward which all worshippers of Ngai (God) turned their faces when in formal prayer. Ngai, the creator God, gave birth to the human community and provided all the resources necessary for life. It was wrong to ask or beg of God for sustenance. Ngai’s abundance was already with men. Human beings had to use these resources and fulfill their obligations by procreating and nurturing their offspring’s in an orderly manner.
149 Adherents of the faith had been widely exposed to, or, according to them, variously “destroyed” by Christianity. Indeed, Ngonya himself was raised in a family with membership in the Presbyterian Church. Due to a series of disappointments, among
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which was his fathers refusal to organise for his timely circumcision, he became intensely interested in the Kikuyu tradition. This interest was further piqued when he missed a scholarship, which he felt was rightly his due. Beginning in 1974, he left his formal sector job and engaged in the profitable business of selling herbal medicines. In the 1980s, he was exposed to traditional ritual gatherings, eventually meeting with Kikuyu elders under the rubric: “The Tent of the Living God.” However, such people seemed closely tied to aspects of the biblical Old Testament and were poorly informed about to traditional Kikuyu beliefs. He chose to attain great understanding of traditional faith with his family as the focus and it was only later that it became possible, eventually, to address public audiences.
150 Despite the fact that he was hounded, during the early 1990s by church leaders and the international community as an “anti-Christ,” he was able, by 1997, to “ordain” 18 candidates into a form of elderhood. Meanwhile, his relationship with traditional practitioners extended beyond the Kikuyu to include the Meru and Embu, with whom they had spiritual and cultural affinity. He did not perceive himself as an ordinary elder, though he ordained and related with other elders and a Council of Elders. He understood that this council was neither recognised by the Kikuyu people generally, nor by the Kenya government, as an authoritative Kikuyu voice. Ngonya perceived himself as a visionary, a spiritual leader (he allowed the term “evangelist”), in the tradition of his grandfather, identifying the sickness of modern Kenyan society and pointing toward a restoration of the tradition as a source of well being.
151 Ngonya affirmed the following value and faith elements,93 three essential foods—nyama (meat), asali (honey), maziwa (milk); three essential values—amani (peace), upendo (love), umoja (unity); three essential colors—red (blood), black (people), green (land-vegetation).94 The Tent of the Living God sustained a strong sense of a return to the origins of Kikuyu culture and identity. In the context of this research, the Tent of the Living God community serves as a purist, but so far a marginalised, reconstruction of the traditional Kikuyu community. However truncated, it must be recognised as one of the current expressions of Kikuyu religio-cultural tradition, perhaps one end of a broad continuum giving voice and shape to an idealised version of the world of the elders and Ngai, the Mwathani (the greatest ruler).95
152 Concerning the Mungiki sect, he stated that the members were initially his followers, but strayed when they began to advocate for women’s forceful circumcision, and offering of sacrifices in ways not prescribed by Kikuyu tradition. Ngonya freely acknowledged that his movement appealed to low income people of Kenya. He recognised that his group would not exercise any influence on the government of Kenya and on the body politic. He was unable to register a political party known as DEMO and ended up establishing the Cultural Trust of Kenya, which he claimed was registered, despite the lack of the evidence of an official certificate. This trust enabled him to seek monetary contributions from Kenyans and other donor agencies.
153 Later Ngonya joined KANU and this caused his followers to feel betrayed that they sought to eliminate him and he fled for his life. Ngonya was later to warm his way back into association with Ford Asili one of the political parties. Ngonya swore by God that he never defected to KANU in spite of television footage where he was welcomed on various occasions to the presidential dais by the president Moi himself. He did not have his traditional regalia on but was clad in a Kaunda suit.
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154 These indigenous religious groups did not differ from other religious groups that emerged in violence but after a while necessarily manipulated by state functionaries. Their violence and the human rights violations could be committed by both sides but somehow after a while interests would begin to converge and the religious violence would no longer be violently responded to by the state. This would mean that they would be tethered and made useful tools by the state.
Independence in the Church and State
155 The African independent churches in Kenya were movements that developed and broke away from the mainstream colonial churches, funded and controlled by missionaries. They represented, among other things, protest against the monopoly of church authority by the missionaries; their resentment was exacerbated by strongly authoritative patterns of church organisation. The result was the emergence of African churches. These were breakaway bodies and in Kenya these breakaway ecclesiastical bodies are currently referred to as independent churches since most of them emphasised independence from missionary content. Independence as Mbiti points out is chiefly the terms of organisation, leadership, decisions, finance and direction.96 A.F. Wallis has clarified the term independent church to include churches where the leadership is African, their ministry overwhelmingly African, and their missionary direction minimal. According to this, some of the independent churches are nowadays virtually indistinguishable from the mainline churches from which they sprang. To examine this phenomenon of independent churches, it is significant to inquire into some of their causes97 but this is beyond our scope.
156 Obviously the emergence of organised protest movements among Kenyan communities came mainly as a result of growing discontent against the policies of the missions and the colonial administration. They began quite early in Kenya. Among the Kikuyu there was dissatisfaction with the missions and the colonial government over land, labour and cultural issues among many other questions before 1920. Prior to 1919, these protests were haphazardly made manner by individuals who felt directly affected by the policies.98 The individual protests ended in 1919 when organised protest began with the formation of Kikuyu Association and the Young Kikuyu Association.99 Whereas the Independent Churches had not emerged at this point religion was getting engaged by the Kikuyu Political Organisations like the East African Association and the Kikuyu Central Association (henceforth KCA). Initially the protest was about mission lands, but by 1929 the issues expanded to include clitoridectomy a contentious issue between the missions and the adherents since 1900. The missions’ fight was great and the Kikuyu response through the Kikuyu Central Association was also vehement. A division was imminent and indeed by end of 1929 there was a mass exodus of the Agikuyu from the mission churches. They sang muthirigu questioning the identity of those who remained in church.100 Out of this background emerged the African Orthodox Church and the African Independent Pentecostal Churches (henceforth AIPC). The AIPC was associated with the Kikuyu Independent Schools Association founded in 1929. They accepted polygamy and female circumcision among other practices the community could not discard but there was no great theological difference between it and the Anglican and Presbyterian Churches. The operations of this church began as school prayers in a prayer house, later transformed
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into the erection of a church.101 After 1937 the growth of AIPC was gradual but steady. The influence went beyond Central Province to the Rift Valley with more ordained ministers.
157 From the time of its emergence, the move towards Mau Mau had made inroads into the church. Insurgence and the sect had something in common—revolt against the White man. They were also trying to get followers opposed to these white “intruders.” It was indeed a perfect example of how politics and religion complimented each other. This was a marriage of convenience because both Mau Mau and AIPC were desperate for members within the indigenous population. Although the colonial government saw the AIPC as a threat to its stability nothing dramatic happened for some time. The church premises could occasionally be used secretly as venues for administration of MauMau oaths. Trouble started in 1952.102
158 In 1952, the Independent Churches in Central Kenya were accused of conducting subversive activities against the colonial government. They were accused holding similar practices like Gikuyu political movements of the 1930s and 1940s. It claimed that the Independent Churches were nothing but a disguise for political movements, for their worship services combined what the government interpreted to be Mau Mau oath ceremonies, fund-raising and ammunition collection campaigns. In addition the government claimed that the members of these independent churches were not true Christians. Real Christians, the government claimed, were to be found in the Mission Churches, who for all practical purposes supported the state. Corfield claimed that Kikuyu schools and AIPC were associated with the KCA and later Kenya African Union (henceforth KAU). Leakey too, in 1952, was convinced of a close link between Kikuyu schools and KCA during the time when the latter body seemed to have been growing increasingly anti European and openly subversive to colonial authority.103 These accusations evoked a strong outcry from many African Independent Churches. The independent churches strongly refuted these accusations. Such appeals were not listened to and from October 1952, the government enraged by the subversive climate began to act with extreme rigour. On October 20, 1952 the government announced a state of emergency. Between October 1952 and October 1953 hundreds of leading members of the African Independent Churches were arrested and detained. They were accused of taking the oath and leading a clandestine movement. On October 20, 1952, after massive arrests and detentions the government proscribed all African Independent churches under the colonial governments Emergency Regulation Act of 12A, Government announced on Radio broadcast that it would no longer allow such movements to exist in Kenya. It would only allow organisations which it considered reasonable and with sincere interests of the indigenous people.104
159 The proscription led to the loss of AIPC lands and schools. Some of the schools were given to other churches while others went to the District Education Board (DEB). The ban on AIPC was lifted in 1959 but none of the schools were returned to date despite appeals to successive governments.105
160 The minority independent Christian Churches/culture movements were automatically rendered strange bedfellows with the state, the moment they delinked from the Mission bodies and made their own concoctions. Evidently Christianity was largely associated with European colonial domination of large numbers of Africans. Many left to join the burgeoning African Independent Churches.
161 These movements played a very significant role. They were vehicles of ethnic solidarity. Such movements always have connections with specific ethnic communities. These
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movements may not necessarily have a clear cut political role attracted those for whom colonisation had been a cultural upheaval and social destruction. Leaders of these movements quickly realised the necessity of cultivating close links with political leaders in the post-colonial era. Denigrated to lower levels so big men would not want public association but secretly visit them.
162 African response to marginalisation was noted either in the formation of independency that seemed Christian, like AIPC, or those that included more African culture despite retaining some Christian symbols like Msambwa. It was a fight for space and one decided the modality of the fight. AIPC chose to use the very symbols of colonial rule (church and school) to struggle and show evidence that they could still go on. The DyaM decided on violence, and a return to, perhaps old cultural practices given the circumstance in which they were. The DyaM maintained the violence throughout the colonial times and into postcolonial Kenya. This violence met with colonial violence and scheming until it was proscribed for a while.
163 At the declaration of the state of emergency in 1952, the independent churches and other suspect religious practices suffered a blow. Some operated underground whereas others were totally banned and survived from operation and only in name. The AIPC among the Kikuyu was banned, similarly DyaM was banned but its operations went underground. Independence was the occasion for their re-emergence. The re-emergence of AIPC was a welcome factor in the Kenyatta government, but this did not mean the end of its internal problems and fresh relational issues with the new state.
164 The post independent government, however, endorsed the re-emergence of all religious groups. Some religious groups were harassed, for example, Legio Maria in its formative stages on the eve of independence, DyaM which ignored Kenyatta’s call for its immediate registration, and AIPC which re-emerged with vigour in the favourable climate.
165 As Masinde’s religious group fought for survival at independence, another movement emerged among the Luo of Nyanza Province. This was Legio Maria, an offshoot of the Catholic Church. The Roman Catholic missionaries in Africa saw relatively few independent churches breaking away from their missions. Catholic leaders viewed the breakaway movements with faint amusement and dismissed them as a typical Protestant hereditary affliction bred through generations of deficient discipline. These leaders had not fathomed the pull of popular revival, venerable local customs and national feelings. The Catholic Christians of Nyanza in the 1960s shared the prevailing religious view of the time that it was normal that charismatic persons start their own churches; there was undue domination by Europeans, also in the churches; Uhuru (freedom) would bring fantastic blessings, no more restrictive laws, no more masters to be bowed for, and possibly ready cash for all. In Nyanza however, there was a very significant exception: The Legio Maria Church of Africa.
166 The Legio Maria began as an organised movement in 1960s, representing the continuation of a Luo response to colonial Christianity and the control exercised by European missionaries on Christian communities in Western Kenya. The search for “why did it happen?” is naturally conducted even more seriously in the case of Legio Maria, since it was considered so unusual. Legio Maria was officially launched after some dispute with Catholic Missionaries almost the same month that Kenya became independent. Just as self-governance was the political order of the day, so the followers of this new “African Catholicism” clearly articulated their desire for independence from the European church
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domination. They eventually developed a constitution for the movement that included a hierarchical structure, including a pope, cardinals, bishops, priests, and altar boys.
167 The “Legio Maria of Africa Church Mission” began when three Luo Catholics, Simeon Ondeto, Gaundencia Aoko and Maria, Ondeto’s “spiritual mother,” claimed to have undergone prophetic experiences. All three of them had powerful dreams, visions and calls and had already before the breakaway been practising exorcisms, gathering followers around them. The Legio Maria seemed to be an offshoot of an Irish lay organisation, “The Legion of Mary,” a charismatic movement within the Catholic Church.
168 The Legion of Mary members fostered the involvement of lay people in the life of the Church. But there was discontent because priests alone instructed members of those groups, and exercised an active ministry in the Church. As a result, Gaudencia Aoko and Simeon
169 Ondeto, the founders of the Legio Maria, invoked the authority given to them by God through personal visions, to heal, to preach, to pray for the sick, baptise at no cost and pray for those unable to pass examinations based on rote learning of the catechism, and women in irregular unions.
170 Consequently, Aoko and Ondeto were excommunicated in 1962, and they left with a large following and created a separate church organisation. Within a year, they had a following of over one hundred thousand members, many of whom wished to retain the Latinate Mass, as well as a Catholic sense of church hierarchy. Members of the Legio regarded themselves as African Catholics rather than Roman Catholics. Their focus on protection against disease, witchcraft and spirit possession, issues of great concern in Western Kenya, while retaining familiar Catholic Church structures, attracted a considerable following among the Luo. At its peak the Movement had over 90,000 members. This dropped to 50,000 by the early 1970s.106 However, by 1980 the church numbered 248,000. 107
171 Legio Maria was remarkable in many ways; for instance, it was the only major breakaway from the Catholic Church and the only representative in Western Kenya of the messianic type of independent churches. Legio Maria comprised a real community of often poor, insecure or frustrated small people, a community with a flashy cult of symbols, rites and taboos suggesting a new life, a community of agreement, equality and common activities, where full active participation led to firm commitment, a community full of African relevance: spirit world, healing, ecstasies, dreams, tolerance of polygamy and Christianised witchcraft.
172 Legio believed in the central message of Christianity, and specifically in the central role of Mary as “queen,” “mother” and the “mediatrix.” However, beliefs on the interaction between the spirit world and living human beings differed slightly from mainstream Catholic beliefs. Central importance was given to the need to control the world of the spirits through possession, exorcism, healing, and the actual use of mediums, mainly lay people and members of the movement. In the realm of ecclesial organisation, the Legio Maria adherents believed that priests were not needed to contact the spiritual world, but particular individuals with personal visions of Mary (or Jesus and Mary) had the power to heal and to deal with the world of the spirits. Thus Legio leaders prayed for healing and exorcism as the need arose. They added features of Pentecostalism to Catholic style of worship, symbolism and hierarchy. In the same vein, Legio rejected Western and
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traditional medicines, alcohol, tobacco, and dancing, but accepted polygamy and was strongly nationalistic.
173 After some years, Melkio Simeon Ondeto assured the role of Pope and sooner proclaimed himself the risen but African Jesus with the task of delivering the Africans and the entire world. Both he and Legio adherents believed that when God revealed Jesus to the white world, they rejected, persecuted and murdered him. Ondeto was God’s second revelation of Jesus. Ondeto was revealed to redeem the world from evil, the works of Satan, witchcraft, to protect the poor, bring justice to the world and harmony in the nations. The Legio argued despite the resurrection of Jesus, the missionaries and the whites used the church to subjugate the Third World, prepared the way for colonial/capitalist exploitation, generally mete out injustice and violence in the world. This is why God decided to create a black Jesus to rectify the situation and save the world from God’s wrath and imminent fire.108
174 Legio sprung up during the religious commotion that engulfed most of the Eastern and Southern Africa countries. Most of the reasons for the commotion lay on reviving some African cultural practices, otherwise held in disdain by missionary churches. There was rebellion against oppression in the early mission churches. They sought communal gods, not individual gods and where they could dance and clap and jump and drum for their God.
175 Clearly, the relations between the breakaway and the Mainline Churches were always problematic, and so was the case of Legio and the Catholic Church. However, the Catholic Church and the state were not in any kind of relations so the state had no issues with what affected them. However, Legio’s activities could have provoked government interference. Minority religious groups were not friendly with the government whether colonial or postcolonial. Legio Maria had its share of government interference in the Kenyatta era. It was described as “a collection of lapsed Catholics and pagans, practising heresy that is a mockery to Christianity and the Roman Catholic Church” by a senior resident magistrate in Kasumi, Mr. John Abraham. He was delivering judgement on 39 members of the sect accused of holding an illegal meeting in defiance of the ban on public meetings and processions which had been enforced by the Kenyan government. The 39 adherents pleaded guilty and three of their leaders were jailed for one month each. The other thirty-six were released on condition that they kept peace for one year. Squads of baton- armed riot police were on duty outside the law court and the nearby Jubilee Market during the judgement and sentence. There were no incidences reported. Legio Maria was not yet officially registered as a religious organisation and had received prior police warnings and twice they were barred from holding meetings.109 Since the police believed that it was a threat to public order when they sought permission to hold meetings, it was not granted and they in turn defied the police order and held their meetings. This is exemplified in the report as the police officer Dajamp Singh who found a large crowd crammed into a house singing, shouting and gesticulating. “When informed of the illegality of the meeting they persisted and had to be dispersed. Their defence lawyer stated that a new religious movement Legio Maria met stiff resistance from the mainline churches, who did exactly the same thing to the founder of Christianity as they have done with this sect.”110
176 The Christian character of Legio was doubted by the state. Legio was defended on this by Secretary-General of the East African United Churches (F. Ndirangu) who lamented its comparison with the Lumpa Church in Northern Rhodesia (Zimbabwe) which had
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engaged in some grisly murders. In his defence, he stated that Legio Maria was a Christian society and … it would therefore be a great folly to think that it can at any time come to terms with such barbaric and cold hearted murders, neither would it be fair to suggest that it can associate itself with such groups of murders. It is most appalling that there have been certain people who up to this moment have been saying that Legio Maria is not a Christian society.111
177 The colonial government and missionaries misunderstood the aims and objectives of the sect. Despite the fact that Legio leaders were not provided with the opportunity to expound their mission, vision and objectives to the government. Yet they persisted in asserting that Legio was not anti-government, they said, It must be known that Legio Maria has full confidence in the Kenyan government, its prime minister and all his ministers and all those who are employed by the government to work for the betterment and well being of the people of this country. The leaders of Legio also thank the Kenya government very much for what it has done for them in handling their case. They will not forget the kindness of the Kenya government.
178 The East Africa United Church that represented all the indigenous churches declared Legio Maria “one of the true African indigenous churches.”112
179 The relations between Legio and the state was not always strained, in fact, in 1991 the Archbishop of South Nyanza, Raphael Abala appreciated the fact that Kenyatta facilitated the registration while giving a brief history of the church. They recognised that Mr. Oginga Odinga arbitrated over a conflict between the Catholic Church and Legio Maria follwers over this registration. He said, Mzee Kenyatta convened a meeting between the two warring churches which was attended by the “messiah” and it was decided that the Catholic Church would have its headquarters in Rome while Legio Maria, being an African Church, would have its headquarters in Kenya, Africa.113
180 Cardinal Lawrence Chiaji told the crowd that the church was registered in 1964 but before his registration, the Messiah was arrested twice in 1963 and 1964 as he agitated for the registration of the church. He emphasised the significance of 1964 in the life of the church because during the year most of its clerics including Mama Maria were arrested and charged with spreading syphilis after their refusal to succumb to pressure to abandon the faith. He reiterated that such arrests and detentions culminated in the death of Mother Maria died in 1966 at Nzoia in Siaya where she had been deported.114 According to him, the Legio Maria adherents in Ugenya commemorated the arrest of Ondeto held at Ukwala Police Station, on December 26 and 27, 1960 participating in unlicensed meetings each Christmas season. The arrest was at the site of the river Nzoia church before the Legio Maria was registered. 115 Initially, the Kenyan government was not prepared to register the sect but soon after independence, undue pressure was placed on the new government by members of the parliament and sect leaders it was forced to.
181 Despite the official recognition, Legio Maria met heavy state resistance. Its adherents were variously described in the words of KANU South Nyanza branch Mr. Osur K. Otieno in 1969 in Kisumu where he alleged that he had observed a crowd of Legio Maria followers roaming about South Nyanza as “People who idly roam in Nyanza Province, wearing white clothes, claiming they were the followers of religious sects and were the greatest enemies of Kenya’s development.” The crowd comprised women who had abandoned their marital homes and some that had deserted their husbands. He called for state action against Legio, He further
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accused the Legio and Israel Nineveh of engaging in political agitation and showing outright opposition to the government.116
182 The responses from Luo nationalists to such intimations were different. They had established unofficial co-operation with Legio Maria leaders at the regional level. Jaramogi Oginga Odinga, the member of Parliament for the region and the most prominent among the Luo politicians, supported the new nationalist church as means of strengthening his stance in Nyanza and the entire Kenya. He seemed to find “in religious symbolism, a power of political resistance to central government.” And as soon as Odinga fell out of grace with the Kenyatta Government in 1966 Legio also went to the backyard and began to respond in opposition. Similarly, the Legio Maria began to defy government orders and clashed with police many times. This defiant attitude stood in a strange contrast with the otherworldly attitude displayed by their members and clergy many times, which incorporated the official condemnation of Christian involvement in politics.117 Despite its erratic appearances in the public space Legio Maria, made its presence felt in the Kenyatta era.
183 In the multiparty era, Legio Maria also made a debut in the public space although mystery and secrecy surround the Legio Maria sect. It was persistently accused of backward and anti-development tendencies yet sometimes late 1998, the Legio Maria sect held a long prayer for peace, the faithful braved the cold in the morning, the heat in the day, and walked long distances, some barefoot as far as 30 kilometres, to show solidarity with the poor and pray for peace in Kenya and other African countries. The procession had all and sundry including men, women and children but save for the children, all the adults fasted. Nairobi looked so colourful because the Legio had multi-coloured uniforms, commensurate with their powers and gifts. On this occasion the leader stated to the press: Gentlemen of the press, we have had enough, of you now and before. We don’t know what the future holds but you have heaped all the negative things about Legio Maria, all the sensational and weird reports about us. We know you as biased people. Please take any pictures you may want to take as we are here the whole day. You cannot talk to our bishop today. It’s a most important day of prayer. A day we devote for peace. We don’t wear shoes even if we talk on stones or rocks. We don’t use any locomotives. We don’t eat. So go ahead and write about anything you see, bad or good, positive or negative, distorted or true and write in capitals. But we will remain Legio Maria. We are one million plus across Africa and we are growing.
184 Just before the Moi—Kibaki transition, they again appeared in the public space, this time to sweep the space signifying the transition that they expected. They dealt with every possible hindrance in the spiritual realm hoping that this would manifest in the physical not necessarily to the transition but that would cause chaos in Kenya.
185 After Kibaki became the president, they again appeared in the space and their appearance has become the annual practice. In 2005, the Legio Maria again made its debut in the political arena when about 300 Legio Maria faithful caused a stir is Homa Bay town when they stormed the local station to pray for peace in the wake of a Cabinet reshuffle. The faithful claimed the reshuffle which had allegedly Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) short- changed through demotions of their members in the Cabinet called for immediate prayers in order for peace to prevail in the country. The faithful further claimed that they visited the station to perform a cleansing ceremony. Led by Archbishop Ongawo Aloo of Nakuru Archdiocese and Bishop Samwel Otieno Odongo of Kisii, the faithful reiterated that Kenyans needed a people- driven constitution, which was enshrined in the Bomas draft. Clad in flowing robes of various colours, the faithful arrived at the Homa Bay police
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station claiming they needed to pray for the police, so they would not be manipulated to cause may not be used to bring mayhem in the country. The church leaders, who included Father Vitalis Edward, Jackson Mika Otieno of Dede, were preceded into the police station by the dreadlocked youths claimed to be armed with wooden swords and guns ran helter- skelter within the station in what was termed as a cleansing exercise. Family members of the local police officers thought the invasion of the station by criminals so they locked themselves inside their houses. The spouses of the officers emerged only after it became obvious that the Legio adherents were there only to pray. Their prayers were intermittently interrupted by screams from some members on the assertion that the Holy Spirit was making revelations. In his prayers, Bishop Odongo called for God’s guidance to the government nurture peace in the country because the reshuffle in which most members of LDP were allegedly demoted called for divine intervention if peace was to prevail in Kenya.118
186 For AIPC’s survival in Kenyatta’s era, it had to reinvent itself. First they did away with their advocacy for polygamy, female circumcision, sniffing tobacco and drinking Kikuyu local beer (muratina). It was reregistered and got immense support from Kenyatta. However, it has had wrangles that frequently require the use of the government armed forces to bring peace.
187 At independence the state tried to be at peace with the religious groups that had suffered during the struggle for independence. The nationalist felt that since their struggle was within a colonial setting their aims were similar and so at independence they pursue similar goals. However, given the activities of DyaM, AIPC and the Legio Maria in the post independent era, they were at loggerheads with the state. In fact, Elijah Masinde intimated that given their common suffering constantly with Kenyatta, intimacy with the state would cause his movement to prosper but this was not be.
188 The Kenyatta state felt that what these religious groups advocated were outdated and were inimical to proper state functioning. Hence Kenyatta had to struggle with DyaM leader throughout his reign. Regarding the relations of the minority groups with the government of the day, they stated that in the Kenyatta era the conflict between Odinga and Mboya affected the relationship between the government and Legio Maria. Some form of hostility persisted. This hostility culminated in the killing of people and the arrest of others in October 1969 in Homa Bay, Ukwala and Kisumu all in the then Central Nyanza. Legio Maria seemed militant in the earlier years but became of no consequence in later years. These religious groups were also an impediment to the areas where they operated to the mainline churches. These religious groups marginality seemed to have been carried over from colonial times. For the AIPC the relationship was cordial and they were given freedom of worship, land for building churches. They did not have any problems, but if any preacher criticised the government he was dealt with very sternly. It was in his era that the church was revived after having been banned by colonialists. The president helped the church in putting up more churches and also supported them because he was a culturalist, which the church greatly advocated. The relationship was cordial; in fact he even would call us to statehouse or visit us in our churches. They consider Kenyatta as a friendly leader; and who supported the group because of their involvement in the struggle for independence. Thus during his tenure there was great improvement from the sufferings they experienced before independence.
189 It is obvious that despite the coexistence of the minority religious groups and the state, they had numerous issues of grievances, thwarted hopes, state manipulation that caused
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them to voice their marginality. Minority religious groups sometimes met with favour only if they become useful tools to the government but sometimes their responses were met with negotiations or severe reprimands and occasionally violence. Not all minorities experienced this, for some had favour with the government like the AIPC because they prayed with and for the president and had also participated together with him in the independence struggle.
190 The AIC’s relationship with the state is not clear regarding inclusion or exclusion. The religious groups considered excluded like Legio Maria had poor and uneducated adherents and whose association was feared because of their attire. In fact most African Independent Churches lack influential personalities to advocate for their recognition in the political arena. Some such religious groups have even been relegated to the level of cults and therefore denied registration, for example, Tent of the Living God, DyaM and Mungiki. Akorino, AIPC and some Independent Pentecostals also tended to be despised by the government because of their unpopularity. AIC and African religion are sometimes considered ascetic, inferior, spiritual and apolitical. Moreover, they lack learned leaders in comparison to the mainstream churches. However, most of these groups may not be interested in their inclusion in the state affairs because they did not want to combine religion and politics.
191 Whereas the general opinion of all the minority religious groups might be that mainline churches were favoured by the state and demonstrated by the fact that they had been allowed to operate freely, own land and engage in business and being present and participated at state functions, and Members of Parliament had also taken part in harambee functions119 to help them, the majority of the AICs might be of the opinion that these religious groups did not hinder religious minorities from having political influence. A few of the minority groups are clear that “they make us look inferior and hence make our contributions unnoticeable.” In fact it appears like just an apparition and a catch for media people.
192 Despite the efforts by the state to muzzle the political engagement of the minorities, these religious groups seem aware of the fact that separation of the state and religion was not possible. The various minorities interviewed felt there was no way that politics and the state could ignore religion. Mungiki respondents, for instance, said that religion needed to play role in political and development orientation of any nation. According to them, religion and politics are inseparable. Because religion encompasses truth and was about God it had a relationship with both politics and development. The AICs believe that religion and politics are inseparable because religion harmonised behaviour and provided the moral base of a society. It enabled a people to achieve peace, and it also ensured the overall well being of a people. To build a good country people must participate in religion. In other words, religion, political and economic issues are interlined. Religion was part and parcel of the country’s politics. Religion could prevent the state from making extreme decisions with adverse effects on it. Religion was significant as the conscience of a nation that had to point out the evils and offer correction where possible. Since so much in a nation impinged upon it was therefore not possible for the church to ignore politics an aspect of the all-encompassing culture.
193 It seems obvious that there is a thin line between politics and religion because individuals in leadership belong to both, as the AICs seemed to indicate. The AICs were involved in politics through their prayers for the nation (through the Holy Spirit) for peace to prevail, building of churches and schools (e.g. by members like Bishop Ondiek). Some of
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the AICs like AIPC involved in the fight for independence and paid dearly. They fought for freedom from the colonialists and to date continues to fight for freedom from any kind of bondage. The church developed many schools and health facilities, although they were later taken over by the government. Today they continue to participate in the construction of schools, health facilities, and agitation against the government’s evils. Recently the AIPC demanded for the return of their schools, which were handed over to mainline churches when the colonial government banned AIPC in the 1950s. Apart from prayer for the government many of their members are business people and this helps the economy. The members of the AIPC participated in the constitution review and their members contributed mainly on issues that affect the minorities. The wrangles in the church over power and finances over the years have affected the churches from participation in major issues. Similar to the AIPC, Legio Maria had also participated by building several churches in Alego, Ugenya, South Nyanza and even in Nairobi. There are those who said that although the church was in the minority it had participated socially and economically through starting projects aimed at improving member’s welfare e.g. schools.
194 Suggestions abound on how their marginalisation could be eliminated. This could be done by establishment of a ministry for religions or spiritual affairs so as to accommodate all religious identities including minority religious groups or the position of a permanent secretary in charge of religious affairs in the Ministry of Culture and Social Services. Still others recommended that the government should create a state office for the churches, to cater for their political interests. It was also necessary for the government to aid in the formation of religious regional groupings and national associations to ease the interaction between the minorities and the government. Arrangement for financial support through a consolidated fund by the government would serve as means of closing the gap between it and the minority religious groups. From the responses it was clear that the onus was on the government to establish a feature that would make it conscious of the existence and survival of these groups be they a permanent presidential religious commission or department within a ministry accommodate the minorities.
195 This would enable the members of the African-instituted churches religious groups to fully participate. It was requisite for the government to recognise them, discourage the discrimination against smaller churches, support them financially to enable them do their work effectively and start projects to help empower the members economically, provide equal funding for all the independent churches and offer good government posts for members, encourage dialogue and equity. It was important for them to be sensitised on the need for education, encourage them to open up and stop keeping to themselves and integrate them into government development projects.
Summary and conclusions
196 The state in Africa is often regarded as a powerful force in relations to the society. Yet as Hyden (1983) among others has argued society’s ability to organise itself beyond the states jurisdiction suggests that the states power have sometimes been overestimated. Sanneh for example claims the omnipotence of the state, with a wide channel of power, not just content to restrain and arbitrate but to prescribe the faith of a fundamental kind and conformity of an absolute form (1991: 212).120 This is an overstatement, concerning the states capacity to secure obedience from its people. Given that the post-colonial
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Kenyan state inherited the colonial political, economic and social entities and frameworks then it is not surprising that it would attempt to govern in the same authoritarian hegemonic fashion. But such an attempt was also an indication of the states inability to achieve its objectives.
197 To assess the relations between religions and the state in independent Africa, the framework of government religious policies on religion follow a number of different models. Some African states are confessional states with very conservative approaches to religion, such states include in their constitution faith in God but without committing themselves to a particular religious confession (e.g. Lybia). The secular states are characterised by lack of any reference to God in their constitutions. This position was clearly summarised by Nyerere when he said “Tanzania has no religion, the party has no religion. But most Tanzanians are religious people and the party and government guarantee to each citizen the right to choose his or her own religion.”121 Tanzanian model was a liberal version of a secular state. Mozambique initially followed a strict Marxist approach, but appears to have relaxed this and adopted more liberal policies towards religion.
198 On the eve of independence because of the bitter struggle between the colonial government and the Africans and particularly the MauMau movement, all movements whose activities and levels seemed a threat to the state were deregistered and prescribed. Discussion on the state- religion relations in contemporary society tends to limit themselves to mainstream religious establishments. This is a rather constrictive approach since there were so many other organisations that attract a large number of people and exercise their own distinct pressure and impact.
199 The arguments of Collin Leys, Goran Hyden and Robert T.Bates state that in East Africa states emerged from colonialism which means that governments have to cope with contrasting values, ideals and representations inherited from both the African heritage and from European colonial legacies.122 They have to cope with disrupted economic systems in which subtle links connect capitalist export oriented structures with local producers and markets within a global situation of dependence and underdevelopment. Problems of political stability, economic growth and social improvement are still severe and various social groupings actively compete for better material and/or spiritual (ideological) conditions while foreign private and public groups intervene according to their interests.
200 Kenya has held ambivalent position regarding religious identity. Kenya has generally been a stable state and political changes have occurred through a legal process, gradually reinforcing respect for the rule of law among the populations. Until 1990 this did not mean pluralistic democracy. In Weberian terms the bureaucratic state system is necessarily secular and hence with no state religion. Freedom of worship is protected by law and churches, sect; associations are proliferating all over the region. Such developments are usually accepted without opposition, except where they create serious unrest. More important the secular character of the state does not preclude open religious references in state rituals (oathings and festivals) and the openly religious style of some leaders for example Daniel arap Moi who publicly and actively participated in Christian rituals on Sundays. Such religiosity is prompted by Christian references inherited from European missionaries. Religion is one of the cultural references employed by political leaders to strengthen their legitimacy among the people. A secular state in Kenya should mean a balanced attitude towards the various denominations within a global ambience of piety. Religion is a political resource for politicians who are
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concerned with mobilisation and social control. Heads of state and members of parliament, party leaders are not reluctant to mix religion and politics and one important part of their policy is to create and control social organisations, which might simplify the structuralisation of the society.
201 Indigenous churches and AICs have prospered in Kenya, becoming more assertive each day. The leaders of these churches, which may have as many as ten people or several hundreds, have asked Kenyans not to take them for granted since they are serving a major role.
202 But some bishops from the mainstream churches in Kenya urged the government to look into the beliefs of some of the traditional religious orders, to see if their teachings were right. Careful not to hurt the existing freedom of worship in the country, the bishops recalled the Kanungu tragedy in Uganda, where 1,000 people were killed by sect leaders about five years ago. They warned that the emerging denominations should not be taken for granted. The Rt. Rev Peter Njoka, the Anglican bishop of Nairobi said “If the behaviour of these groups is suspect, then they should be investigated.” But Archbishop Ndingi Mwana a’Nzeki, the then head of the Catholic Church in Kenya maintained that all these groups were acceptable since everyone was free to worship the way they chose given the freedom of worship. He noted that the emerging religious sects might not have been a threat to the mainstream churches. He further stated that the Catholic Church encouraged enculturation of some good aspects of the African traditions and this would enable them to make African values part of the Catholic Church teachings. “It would be wrong to see these churches as serving no purpose at all. We may be small in number but some of us now command a large following,” says Reverend Michael Kamau of the Universal Prayer Group, one of the indigenous churches. Early in 2005 more than 50 indigenous churches in Kenya formed a council, the Indigenous Churches Council of Kenya (ICCK). Convinced that they had a mass following, the leaders said they would be talking for their faithful. They even promised to forward views to the on-going constitutional review process in the country. But while they continue to be branded the religion of a minority, the soul soup for the helpless, and abodes of “Satanism” by some Pentecostal charismatic leaders, experts have explained that these churches are likely to find a massive following among impoverished groups. The main reason for this is that they are able to offer “quick answers” to problems that the mainstream churches may guardedly solve.
203 Experts in religious affairs however say it is no surprise that these churches are growing that fast. Gilbert Ogutu, asserts that African people desire to reach God in the shortest way possible. He observes that because Africa is challenged with catastrophes, the society seeks solutions through worship. “Moreover, they are a big business,” Ogutu adds.(OI, March 4, 2004). The churches that are sampled in this paper can be categorised as the Holy Spirit/prophetic churches whose activities in the recent past have shown their struggle for political space.
204 In Kenya, ethnicity is a major feature of these churches. Legio Maria, for instance, accommodates mainly the Luo ethnic community while the African Independent Pentecostal Church has mostly the Kikuyu. But the most recent ones have chosen names that bring them closer to the mainstream churches. Some of the indigenous churches maintain controversial beliefs, which the originators choose to keep with their faithful only. Ardent followers of Africa indigenous churches believe that their priests teach them what is right.
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205 According to a Tent of The Living God faithful, John Kihiu, as long as there is social, economic and political dissatisfaction, there is going to be trends of increasing diversion from the mainstream churches. The fascinating thing about these groups, however, is that despite the uproar from the mainstream churches, they have survived the test of time. As evidenced by the survival of African Independent Pentecostal Church from early colonial times and more fascinating is that poorly educated priests lead them.
206 The relationship between the government and these religious movements has been ambivalent. Sometimes the state embarks on the policy of total harassment, systematic extermination of the group and “demonisation of the religious movement.” They even encouraged members to defect to other religions. This raises the questions related to democracy, human rights and citizenship. These are key factors that become very challenging because the members of these movements may not understand the meanings.
207 Democracy implies the acceptance of religious pluralism and tolerance at the very least, but it also requires that people of different faiths learn to cooperate in bringing about the just democratic transformation of society. The way forward is invariably not as much as the level of etiological debate, but in practical co-operation particularly in the area of human rights advocacy. Indeed the minority religions have participated in democratic agitation and politics.
208 Whether conscious or unconscious the state has marginalised the minority religious groups and from evidence it is clear that the minorities desire the government action on marginalisation. Participation and marginalization are matters relate to power and access and therefore it was significant to know about the accessibility of certain services to the minority religious members. Kenyan nation-state needs to rethink its position on these religions. Possibly the initiation of true dialogue would sort out many relational issues. Conscious opening of the space would be very important. This can only be done through the realisation of plural space and provide equal chance for players with clear rules and instruction. Freedom of association must be recognised and implemented as the minorities also realise the significance of the human rights of other Kenyans who are not their adherents. The creation of a free and conducive environment for participation and provision of civic education for all would ensure that they were aware of what was going on in the land and gain power to participate without fear.
209 The conclusions of this paper are as follows: • Kenya portrays a homogenous disposition of nation state narration. However, in reality, there is heterogeneity with some people being excluded from the nation state narration. Most members of the minority religious identities, for example, operate on the margins of that narration. • Some minority religious identities are occasionally accommodated in the nation-state narration to counter the views raised by majority religious identities on matters of concern like national security, politics and economic state of the nation. • The indigenous minority religious identities are perceived as a threat to national security in Kenya. Such religious identities are feared as possible springboards for political rebellion based on the role that was played by the Mau Mau movement in the liberation struggle. • There is increased demand for democracy, human rights and citizenship resulting from pleas from minority religious identities to be granted space in the nation state narration. Consequently, many civil communities and NGOs are demanding the respect of the dignity of all people in the nation-state including those of minority religious identities.
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NOTES
1. Haynes (1996). 2. Berman (1990). 3. Kisiang’ani (2003). 4. Amoko (2000: 1). 5. Prakash (1998: 8). 6. Linda Hutcheon (1995: 10). 7. Achille Mbembe (1992: 4). 8. Castoriadis (1975: 475) and Foucault (1989). 9. Mbembe (1982, 1991); Geoffrey (1990). 10. Fanon (1967: 30–71). 11. Peter Kagwanja (2002); Several issues of the Daily Nation, Sunday Nation papers in June 2004. 12. Constantin (1993: 36).
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13. Ibid.: 37. 14. Ibid.: 37. 15. Boyle (1992). 16. Gertzel (1970: 1). 17. Haynes (1996: 2). 18. Spencer (1989: 116). 19. Frost (1997: 173). 20. Githiga (2001: 29). 21. Ibid.: 28 22. Ibid.: 28. 23. Welbourn (1965: 171). 24. Throup (1995: 144). 25. Strayer (1972: 100). 26. Githiga (2001: 30). 27. Githiga (2001: 30); Lonsdale (1978b: 25); George Bennet (1963: 161). 28. Lonsdale (1978b: 17). 29. Ibid. 30. Ibid. 31. Ibid. 32. Kenyatta (1970: 331). 33. Okullu (1974: 74–75). 34. DeGruchy (1995). 35. Gitari (1996: 13–21). 36. Githiga (2001: 147). 37. Sabar-Friedman (1996: 377–378). 38. Throup (1995). 39. Ibid.: 145. 40. Githiga (2001: 49). 41. Baur (1990: 221). 42. Lonsdale (1978a: 171). 43. Githiga (2001: 51). 44. Okullu (1974: 51). 45. Sabar-Friedman (1996: 383). 46. Sabar-Friedman (1997). 47. Ibid.: 30. 48. Shariff Nassir, as quoted in Finance, February 1990: 38. 49. Baur (1990: 222). 50. The Standard, November 8, 1988. 51. Weekly Review, October 14, 1988. 52. Daily Nation, September, 30, 1988.
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53. The repeal of section 2(A) of the constitution that made Kenya a one party state by law. 54. Gitari (1991: 5). 55. See Daily Nation, October 3, 1988. 56. Bishop Alexander Muge died in mysterious circumstances on August 14, 1990. He had been forewarned by a cabinet minister that if he dared go to Busia he would not return alive but he defied the threat and went to Busia on his Episcopal duties. During the return journey his car crashed and he passed on. The coincidence of death and the actual threat of death created suspicion amongst Kenyans who felt that it was stage-managed. 57. Walker (1995: 456). 58. Ibid. 59. Githiga (2001: 106). 60. Ibid.: 111. 61. National Council of Churches in Kenya (1992: 17). 62. Githiga (2001: 121). 63. Ranger (1986). 64. Ibid.: 2. 65. Ibid.: 3 66. Were (1972: 88). 67. Ibid.: 89. 68. Ibid.: 99. 69. Wipper (1977: 269). 70. East African Standard, January 3, 1962. 71. East African Standard, May 13, 1962. 72. Wipper (1977: 271). 73. Ibid.: 273. 74. Ibid.: 279. 75. East African Standard, Dec. 1, 1966. 76. Ibid. 77. Ibid, October 25,1968. 78. Wipper: 286. 79. Wamue (2001: 453). 80. Ibid. 81. Kenya defines itself as a secular state and insists on the separation between religion and the state. The establishment of political parties based on religion. 82. Wamue (2001). 83. Ibid: 459–460. 84. Ibid.: 460. 85. Ibid.: 462. 86. Daily Nation, Wednesday, March 13, 2002. 87. Daily Nation, Friday, March 8, 2002.
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88. Daily Nation, March 13, 2002. 89. The Nation, August 10, 2001. 90. The Nation, August 6, 2001. 91. Francis Ayieko, The East African, Monday December 29, 2003. 92. NCCK report: “Mungiki Movement in Kenya: Religion Political Analysis 2002.” After Mungiki members were implicated in the massacre of 28 people in Nairobi’s Kariobangi Estate. 93. Gleaned from some of his followers during the introductory proceedings of the outdoor service and from the subsequent “sermon.” 94. These cultures were captured in the Kenyan National Flag. 95. OI, Ngonya, March 27, 2004. 96. Mbiti (1990). 97. A.F. Wallis. 98. Githieya (1977): 66. 99. Ibid.: 67. 100. Muthirigu were tainting songs meant to embarrass and shame those who were obedient to the Christianity. 101. McIntosh (1969): 141. 102. The Standard, Monday June 12, 2006: 8 and 9. 103. McIntosh (1969): 148. 104. Githeiya (1977: 109). 105. OI, Archbishop Gaitho, June 12, 2004. 106. Harris et al., 1994: 140. 107. Barrett and Padwick, 1998: 66. 108. O.I Okech Ambasa, July 4, 2004. 109. Daily Nation, 20th June 1960. 110. Ibid. 111. Daily Nation, August 8, 1964. 112. Kenya Times, September 16, 1991. 113. Kenya Times, September 16, 1991. 114. Daily Nation, March 19, 2003. 115. Kenya Times, September 16, 1991. 116. Gertzel, Goldschmidt & Rothchild (1969: 69). 117. Melkio had a mentor in the person of a lady known only as Maria, she exhibited the same powers as his holiness Messiah Melkio Ondeto, they soon joined forces in the Legio Maria. During the time His Holiness Ondeto was alive, Maria was the second command to Messiah Ondeto until she finally died. She is still revered as Mary the Mother. 118. KenyaTimes, July 1, 2004. 119. Public fund-raising. 120. Sanneh (1991); Hyden (1983). 121. Peterson (1987: 64).
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122. Leys (1975); Hyden (1983) and Bates (1989).
AUTHOR
MILDRED A.J. NDEDA The author is a lecturer at the Department of History, Archaeology and Political Studies, Kenyatta University. Contact: [email protected] / [email protected].
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J. K. Nyerere entre mythe et histoire : analyse de la production d’une mémoire publique officielle en Tanzanie post-socialiste Les commémorations de la disparition du père de la nation
Marie-Aude Fouéré
Introduction
1 Bientôt dix ans se sont écoulés depuis le décès du premier président de Tanzanie, Julius Kambarage Nyerere, le 14 octobre 1999. Depuis lors, la commémoration de sa disparition constitue un temps fort de la vie politique tanzanienne unanimement célèbre par la presse nationale. Les articles de journaux qui paraissent à chaque anniversaire de décès témoignent de l’existence d’un consensus large dans la classe politique et dans le monde des médias pour rendre un hommage déférent au « père de la nation ». Ces articles donnent ainsi accès aux modalités de production d’une mémoire publique officielle de J.K. Nyerere1. Plus précisément, dans la présente contribution, une étude de la presse sert de support au dévoilement des formes concrètes de la mise en représentation de cette figure politique majeure, et à certaines des logiques du champ politique institutionnel d’où provient cet hommage déférent. L’actuelle mise en discours hagiographique de l’ancien président tanzanien, servant d’un côté la production d’une identité nationale commune dans une configuration sociale et économique génératrice de protestations collectives, de l’autre le maintien du statu quo politique par le renforcement de la légitimité politique des gouvernants, rend compte de finalités pratiques propres à la sphère du pouvoir, efficacement relayées par les médias. La contribution s’achève par une réflexion sur l’absence ou l’endiguement, dans ce concert de louanges à la gloire du père de la nation tanzanienne, des voix critiques qui pourraient émerger au sein même de cet espace politico-médiatique. Au final, le culte institutionnalise de J.K. Nyerere nous renvoie à la
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construction de la résilience d’un parti d’État, le Chama Cha Mapinduzi, et de ses élites politiques.
Les anniversaires de la disparition de Nyerere
2 Chaque année, dès le début du mois d’octobre, des articles annonçant l’anniversaire du jour fatidique de la disparition de J.K. Nyerere et rappelant qu’un devoir de mémoire s’impose à la nation paraissent dans des journaux d’obédiences diverses2. En date du 14 octobre, jour de son décès, des suppléments sont joints aux parutions des grands quotidiens nationaux. Composés d’une dizaine d’articles, ces suppléments rappellent les événements majeurs qui ont jalonné le parcours politique de Nyerere et les qualités personnelles de cet homme. Quelques articles continuent à paraître jusqu’à la fin du mois pour parachever cet exercice de commémoration. Que les anniversaires du décès de Nyerere soient l’occasion d’une commémoration nationale n’a rien de surprenant, sachant que les dirigeants politiques ont institué un devoir de mémoire du père de la nation tanzanienne dès l’année suivant sa disparition. À la parution d’articles de presse en période de commémoration s’ajoutent ainsi des cérémonies publiques, des sermons religieux, des forums universitaires, des émissions télévisées ou radiodiffusées. Un centre de la mémoire, retraçant le parcours politique de Nyerere et exposant des documents officiels et des objets lies à ses anciennes fonctions, devrait bientôt voir le jour3. Enfin, il est à noter que le mois d’octobre n’est pas le seul moment de l’année où paraissent des articles jonglant entre allusions et références à l’ancien chef d’État tanzanien. C’est tout au long de l’année que la mémoire de Nyerere est entretenue, chaque événement historique, politique ou social pouvant être, d’une manière ou d’une autre, interprète à la lumière des idéaux prônés par le fondateur consacre de la nation. Certes, cette profusion des lieux de mémoire (Nora, 1997) ajoute de l’eau au culte de la personnalité plutôt qu’elle n’est l’occasion d’un travail historique. Mais la présente étude, s’inscrivant dans la voie ouverte par Maurice Halbwachs (1994[1925]), ne vise pas tant à vérifier l’exactitude historique des représentations qui sont proposées du passé qu’à explorer la dimension politique des formes d’invention et d’usages officiels de la mémoire de Nyerere.
Le portrait consensuel de J.K. Nyerere
Des qualités personnelles irréprochables
3 Les articles paraissant chaque année au courant du mois d’octobre s’entendent à démontrer que Nyerere fut un homme aux qualités personnelles exceptionnelles. C’est tout d’abord la simplicité de l’homme qui est mise en avant. Les termes « simple », « sans prétention », « modeste » sont récurrents. Par exemple, dans un article intitule « Mwalimu [le maître d’école] Nyerere : A simple président who believed in Tanzanians »4, les goûts culinaires et vestimentaires de Nyerere sont abondamment discutés pour montrer que ce dernier se contentait de peu : il se régalait du plat national, l’ugali5, considéré aujourd’hui comme le plat des pauvres ; il ne paradait pas vêtu de costumes élégants, préférant la sobriété des couleurs et des coupes. Pour l’auteur de l’article, la dénomination que Nyerere avait choisi de s’attribuer en public, celle de « Mwalimu », c’est-à-dire « l’enseignant » ou le « maître d’école »6 en swahili, rend compte de sa modestie et de sa vision des qualités nécessaires à un dirigeant, à savoir la capacité à
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expliquer clairement le pourquoi et le comment des choses. Pour mieux faire ressortir l’originalité de Nyerere dans le paysage politique africain, le journaliste rappelle la présence au pouvoir de trop nombreux leaders africains qui aimaient à s’appeler « emperors, crowning themselves and emulating emperors, wearing silk dresses and other gear that differentiated them from the people they ruled », laissant transparaître au grand jour leur immodestie voire leur mégalomanie. Enfin, l’article cite ajoute que cette simplicité a amené Nyerere à scolariser ses enfants dans le public et à refuser de vivre dans le luxe. Il préférait ainsi séjourner dans sa petite maison du quartier de Msasani à Dar es Salaam plutôt que dans le vaste palais présidentiel. En conclusion, la frugalité et la sobriété de Nyerere témoigneraient du fait qu’il était bien issu du peuple, vivant comme le peuple, bref citoyen comme les autres.
4 Un second aspect important de la personnalité de Nyerere qui est mis en lumière tient dans son honnêteté. Parlant vrai, agissant ouvertement, l’ancien président de Tanzanie est considéré comme le champion incontesté de la probité. Se conformant toujours aux valeurs officiellement prônées, l’homme est considéré droit, franc et intègre. Tout au long de ses mandats, il aurait refusé les avantages lies à sa position au nom de l’égalité, dédaignant l’argent facile au nom de la justice. C’est aussi cette honnêteté qui faisait de lui une personne de confiance aux yeux de la population. Un homme honnête ne ment pas, ne se cache pas, ne biaise pas ; c’est pourquoi il mérite la confiance et la direction du pouvoir Cette honnêteté aurait été soutenue par une opiniâtreté sans bornes, faisant de Nyerere un personnage déterminé et inébranlable.
5 L’auteur de l’article « What gave Mwalimu authority? » défend l’idée que simplicité, sobriété de train de vie et honnêteté ne sont pas contraires au charisme. Le charisme de Nyerere aurait avant tout repose sur ses qualités de bon orateur. La force didactique de ses discours politiques était indéniable, tenant au fait que l’homme était un professeur émérite avant de s’engager en politique. Le charisme de Nyerere est souvent associé à sa parfaite maîtrise du swahili. On sait que le succès du swahili comme langue nationale de Tanzanie tient à l’œuvre d’un président qui a été conscient de la dimension symbolique, sur le plan de l’unité d’un peuple, de l’adoption d’une langue commune, africaine de surcroît (Whiteley 1969 ; Maw et Parkin 1984 ; Blommaert 1999). Promoteur d’une langue qui faisait le pied de nez à celle du colonisateur britannique, Nyerere aurait su utiliser à merveille les possibilités du swahili pour faire passer ses messages politiques, éveillant l’admiration respectueuse de la population. Beaucoup d’articles rappellent que les écrits plus tardifs de Nyerere, poèmes et traductions7, ont révélé à la société tanzanienne un homme de lettres accompli.
6 Si le débat fait rage entre les partisans de la prédestination et les défenseurs du poids des aléas de la vie dans le devenir humain, il s’essouffle toutefois devant le consensus médiatique selon lequel Nyerere put trouver sa force de politicien dans ses qualités humaines, dans son charisme à fleur de peau et dans ses dons littéraires et pédagogiques. Innées ou acquises, les qualités humaines dont Nyerere fit preuve n’en seraient pas moins criantes.
Des valeurs et des positions politiques fortes
7 Les articles parus lors des commémorations du décès de Nyerere s’attachent longuement à présenter les valeurs dont Nyerere s’était fait le défenseur tout au long de sa vie de politicien. Les termes de liberté, de justice, d’unité et d’égalité abondent8. Ils sont les
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termes mêmes employés par l’ancien président dans ses écrits politiques9. Liberté et justice tout d’abord face à l’oppresseur colonial britannique, mais aussi face aux inégalités économiques, sociales, ou raciales d’une société en construction. On apprend que Nyerere le libérateur s’opposa à l’oppression que faisait subir le colonisateur aux pays colonises, dénonçant non seulement une domination coloniale inique sur le plan économique et politique mais refusant de manière véhémente l’aliénation culturelle de l’Africain prive de ses traditions et de ses valeurs10. La liberté renvoie aussi aux efforts entrepris par Nyerere pour que la Tanzanie soit une nation indépendante sur le plan économique et politique. Le développement agricole, la création d’entreprises nationales de biens et de services ou l’amélioration du système scolaire sont les exemples récurrents évoqués par les journalistes lorsqu’ils en arrivent à la question de la fameuse injonction nyérériste de kujitegemea, « compter sur ses propres forces » (Nyerere 1967 ; Duggan & Civille 1976 ; Coulson 1979 ; Martin 1988)11. La thématique de l’éducation est traitée en détail dans de nombreux articles pour illustrer la réussite des politiques nationales d’autonomisation. Dans le discours d’ouverture de l’Université du Tanganyika, retranscrit régulièrement dans la presse, l’ancien président défend la nécessité pour un État nouvellement indépendant de procurer une éducation de qualité aux enfants de la nation, obligés jusque-là de se rendre au Kenya, en Ouganda voire en Europe ou aux États-Unis, pour bénéficier d’un enseignement universitaire. L’éducation, certes nécessaire au développement économique du pays, aurait aussi consisté à redonner fierté à un peuple exploité, méprisé et dénigré.
8 Les articles généralistes rappellent en chœur l’engagement fort de Nyerere pour l’unification de la nation. Compose de plus d’une centaine de groupes ethniques, il est toujours admis que le pays aurait sombré dans le tribalisme ou le racisme si le chef de l’État n’avait travaillé sans relâche à forger un sentiment national fort. La réussite de la Tanzanie dans la voie de l’unité est habituellement mise en exergue par une comparaison avec les autres pays d’Afrique, notamment les pays de la zone des Grands Lacs. Cependant, si la valeur d’unité renvoie en premier lieu à l’unité de la nation tanzanienne, elle est aussi incontournable pour qualifier les solidarités à mettre en place entre pays africains. La volonté de Nyerere de s’unir avec les autres leaders des indépendances africaines, tels Kwame Nkrumah, Patrice Lumumba, Nelson Mandela, Kenneth Kaunda ou Jomo Kenyatta, est fréquemment soulignée. L’unité, toujours nationale, se voulait aussi panafricaine.
9 Enfin, Nyerere le fondateur de la nation aurait cherché à créer une société égalitaire, dans laquelle l’exploitation de l’homme par l’homme disparaîtrait. Certains des articles parus fondent leur argumentaire sur la répétition ad nauseam de louanges à cet « amour des opprimés », cette « soif de liberté et de défense des exploités » indéfectible afin de vanter l’implication personnelle et émotionnelle de Nyerere dans son travail d’homme politique. La notion d’égalité renvoie à l’uniformité des conditions de vie qui doit s’accomplir grâce à un développement juste et homogène. Cette nation unie à construire, indépendante et égalitaire, c’est bien sur le socialisme qui en a été le fer de lance. La célèbre Déclaration d’Arusha de 196712, qui pose les fondements du socialisme africain, est évoquée dans de nombreux articles en tant que charte fondamentale de l’orientation idéologique des politiques de construction de la nation tanzanienne. On remarque toutefois que les références à l’idéologie socialiste et aux politiques socialistes mises en œuvre à l’indépendance sont rares, les articles insistant sur le caractère universel des valeurs défendues par Nyerere plus que l’ancien système politique. À la construction d’une
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mémoire homogène des valeurs défendues par Nyerere fait écho un « oubli organise » de la visée socialiste qui les portait (Pitcher 2006).
L’invention de Nyerere : de l’émouvant au sacre
10 Le portrait ici dessiné de l’ancien président est fidèle aux nombreux panégyriques qui se sont échelonnés depuis sa présence au pouvoir jusqu’à sa disparition. « Intégrité personnelle », « rigueur morale », « conviction profonde », « charisme » (Alexandre 1989) : ces qualificatifs sont les termes qui reviennent dans nombre d’écrits anciens sur Nyerere et que l’on retrouve jusqu’aux articles commémoratifs d’aujourd’hui. La « tanzaphilie » maladive qu’Ali Mazrui (1967) avait autrefois attribuée aux intellectuels occidentaux (Constantin & Martin 1988) ne continue-t-elle pas à frapper de plein fouet la Tanzanie contemporaine, incapable de s’ausculter avec impartialité ? La couverture médiatique des commémorations du décès de Nyerere témoigne d’un travail d’invention mémorielle à sens unique qui, jouant avec le répertoire des émotions et ressassant des métaphores sacralisantes, opère un basculement du profane au sacre.
Une écriture de l’émouvant
11 Le processus de mythification auquel est soumise la figure de Nyerere prend naissance dans un usage immodéré du registre des émotions. Les scènes de vibrante ferveur populaire à l’occasion du rapatriement de sa dépouille13 ont été décrites dans de nombreux articles : « sa mort nous a pris de court, laisses dans la stupeur », « la surprise, la stupeur, les cris, les lamentations des Tanzaniens n’étaient pas sans raison »14. Dans les journaux parus au cours de la semaine qui suivit son décès en 1999, des pages entières avaient été consacrées à des photographies de femmes en pleurs, d’hommes se tenant la tête entre les mains et de rassemblements de foule autour du cercueil de Nyerere. Ces scènes de foule éplorée ne sont jamais dépeintes comme des cas d’exception : les journaux en parlent comme des moments de communion intense de la société tanzanienne dans son ensemble. C’est toutes générations confondues que la nation aurait pleuré et fait le deuil de l’ancien président. Ce pathétique facile, en ce qu’il renoue avec des émotions passées pour les raviver dans le présent, est étayé par le rappel des discours prononcés par des dirigeants africains lors des funérailles de Nyerere : « héros », « grand homme », « exemple à suivre », « défenseur des petites gens », ces superlatifs courent dans les journaux pour mieux rappeler que la nation tanzanienne a perdu un grand homme. Bref, la sélection des événements du passé directement liés à un vécu émotionnel fort, par l’usage d’un champ lexical de la tristesse et de la douleur, participe à l’exaltation des sentiments.
La mythification du « Baba wa Taifa » (le père de la nation)
12 De nombreux éléments tirés de la presse attestent des modalités de passage du « Baba wa Taifa » tanzanien d’un espace du profane, regorgeant d’émotions, à un espace du sacre. Comme évoqué plus haut, les faits biographiques réels ont tendance à être présentés comme les signes d’une prédestination. Une lecture à rebours de l’enfance et de l’adolescence du chef d’État permet de dégager les traits de caractère, les actes ou les pensées qui expliquent, dans la perspective téléologique suivie, que la voie du chef de
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l’État était tracée par avance. L’insistance des articles biographiques sur les étapes de l’éducation scolaire de Nyerere, sur les écoles qui l’ont accueilli et sur les diplômes acquis vient renforcer la légitimité de l’ancien chef d’État : prédestiné à être chef grâce à ses qualités personnelles innées, Nyerere ne se prépara pas moins à ses fonctions futures en accumulant des savoirs scolaires. Autrement dit, il surmonta brillamment son « initiation » à la gestion des affaires humaines. Il est rappelé dans de nombreux articles que Nyerere quitta ses fonctions de professeur pour pouvoir s’impliquer dans les affaires politiques de son pays, le colonisateur ayant interdit aux fonctionnaires d’État d’être des acteurs politiques. Cet événement est présenté comme un point de passage dans la vie de Nyerere, comme une sorte de (re)naissance symbolique à la vie politique. Dans la présentation de l’ascension de Nyerere comme homme d’État, on retrouve donc le schème ternaire courant de transformation de l’histoire en mythe, utilise par Harris Memel-Fote (1991) pour rendre compte de la manière dont est forgée la légitimité des pères de la nation en Afrique : un enfant aux dons exceptionnels, une soif de savoir étayée par une intelligence hors du commun, la révélation à une vocation politique.
13 Le savoir acquis est l’élément fondamental de la reconnaissance de Nyerere en tant qu’homme politique. En effet, accumulation des savoirs et sagesse doivent aller de pair chez un bon gouvernant. Il a déjà été largement souligné combien l’appellation de « mwalimu » n’est pas seulement due au hasard de la profession de Nyerere. C’est Nyerere lui-même qui a imposé ce terme, préféré à ceux de rais (président), de mtukufu rais (sa sainteté le président), ou d’empereur. Si de nombreux articles mettent ce choix sur le compte de l’humilité de Nyerere, il est évident, comme l’a montré avec pertinence D.-C. Martin (1988) dans son analyse des langages du politique en Tanzanie socialiste, que cette désignation renvoie à une représentation paternaliste du pouvoir : c’est l’instruction qui conférerait le droit à gouverner. Les éloges incessants touchant à son habilité à manier les mots participent d’une même logique de légitimation par le savoir.
Mi-homme mi-Dieu ?
14 Que Nyerere soit le guide de la nation, le recours à la métaphore de la lumière le montre avec évidence. Les titres d’articles sont éloquents : une « étoile qui brille », une « lumière » qui s’est éteinte, une « étoile » qui nous laisse dans « l’ombre », voire dans les « ténèbres ». L’emploi de cette figure de style ne fait aucun doute : parce que la lumière évoque la connaissance, voire la vérité, elle confère à Nyerere une autorité indiscutable dans son travail de guide national. Mais le glissement entre monde humain et monde religieux s’opère de manière insidieuse, la métaphore de la lumière véhiculant aussi l’idée d’une vérité révélée par le divin. Le chef d’État devient un guide suprême sauveur d’un peuple soumis à l’oppression coloniale, qui voit les indépendances africaines advenir mais ne sait comment prendre sa destinée en main. Autrement dit, sous la plume des journalistes, l’homme politique se transforme en une icône quasi religieuse. Il n’est dès lors guère surprenant de trouver, dans les articles dressant des parallèles entre vie privée et vie politique de l’ancien chef d’État, une présentation de l’implication de Nyerere dans sa position d’homme politique dépeinte sur le mode de l’abnégation de soi. Nyerere aurait fait don de sa personne à la nation tanzanienne afin de la sauver des maux qui la guettent : tribalisme, racisme, pauvreté, dépendance politique, économique et culturelle.
15 Les images métaphoriques du don de soi et du sacrifice pour les autres prennent racine dans la liturgie catholique : l’analogie implicite entre Nyerere et le Messie chrétien, guide
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des hommes qui, sans lui, se seraient égarés à tout jamais15, ne fait aucun doute. Les valeurs qu’il défendit au cours de son mandat politique ne sont-elles pas celles-là même que prône la Parole divine ? La rhétorique médiatique mise en œuvre à l’occasion de l’anniversaire de la disparition de Nyerere confirme qu’on a affaire à une forme de messianisme séculaire. Dans une telle configuration symbolique, la demande de béatification portée devant le Vatican par l’Église de Tanzanie, en cours d’étude depuis le mois de janvier 200616, ne peut laisser indifférent (Fouéré, 2008). Si ses chances d’aboutir sont minces, elle dévoile avec éclat les forces sociales qui, au moyen de la production du culte de Nyerere, œuvrent au maintien de cet homme dans un no man’s land symbolique entre profane et sacre.
Souder la nation, légitimer les élites
16 La production officielle d’une mémoire nationale univoque de Nyerere et son déploiement dans l’espace public par l’intermédiaire des médias s’inscrivent dans un mouvement historique de construction d’une culture politique nationale débuté à l’indépendance, réactivé aujourd’hui dans le cadre des évolutions économiques, politiques et sociales issues des processus de démocratisation et de libéralisation économique entames dans les années 1980-1990. Mais par-delà la recherche de l’unification nationale qui s’appuie sur l’affirmation rhétorique d’une continuité entre socialisme et libéralisme (Pitcher 2006), elle renvoie aussi aux tentatives de légitimation des élites politiques, et du parti politique au pouvoir depuis l’indépendance, dans un contexte de compétition multipartiste accrue.
Nyerere, ou comment symboliser une unité nationale fragilisée
17 Traçons les grands traits des changements récents qui ont affecté la Tanzanie depuis les années 1980. En 1985, le président J.K. Nyerere cède sa place de chef d’État. Le nouveau président élu, Ali Hassan Mwinyi, et son équipe, issus du parti au pouvoir depuis l’indépendance du pays (le CCM, ou Parti de la Révolution) amorcent un tournant en quittant la voie du socialisme pour s’engager dans une économie de type libéral. Un plan d’ajustement structurel est adopté en 1986 dans l’objectif d’organiser les réformes nécessaires au regain d’une activité économique mal en point et de limiter les déficits publics. La rupture est dès lors consommée avec l’ère ujamaa. En 1991, le gouvernement harmonise la législation avec les nouvelles pratiques économiques qui prennent forme. Aucune limite n’est posée à l’enrichissement personnel des dirigeants et le monde politique s’ouvre aux commerçants et aux hommes d’affaires jusqu’alors tenus à l’écart. Au sein des classes dirigeantes et/ou commerçantes, le consensus est bien réel quant à la nécessité du capitalisme et de ses corollaires, la libre entreprise et la concurrence. Le nouveau président élu en 1995, Benjamin Mkapa, persévère dans la voie du libéralisme. Les déclarations des candidats à l’élection présidentielle d’octobre-novembre 2005, et les décisions politiques prises par le nouveau président Jakaya M. Kikwete indiquent clairement que le socialisme, à la fois en tant qu’idéologie et en tant que pratiques politiques, appartient à une histoire déjà lointaine.
18 Ces transformations économiques modifient les rapports sociaux et les liens entre gouvernants et gouvernes. Les inégalités au sein de la société tanzanienne, déjà présentes pendant la période socialiste17, se creusent rapidement. Les dirigeants et les hommes
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d’affaires sont regardés avec suspicion et accusés de corruption. Aux yeux de la population, les deniers publics participent plus à l’enrichissement personnel des groupes dominants qu’à l’amélioration des conditions de vie des populations rurale laissées aux mains des organisations non gouvernementales et des milliers de citadins issus de l’exode rural, vivant au jour le jour dans des quartiers insalubres qui ne recueillent que l’indifférence du gouvernement. Le processus actuel de privatisation des anciennes entreprises para-étatiques est largement critique dans la mesure où il consiste, pour le gouvernement, à vendre celles-ci aux plus offrants, souvent étrangers. Le fossé s’agrandit entre des groupes privilégiés minoritaires, tanzaniens ou étrangers, et une majorité de la population que les critères macroéconomiques placent bien en dessous du seuil de pauvreté.
19 La scène politique, autrefois submergée par le « discours apologétique et emphatique » du parti unique qui refoulait « dans les chuchotements et les allusions, la critique, l’ironie et le mécontentement » (Martin 1988 : 112), s’est ouverte à des critiques en forme des politiques gouvernementales depuis l’adoption du multipartisme en 1992 et la liberté de la presse (Crozon 1998)18. La dénonciation des inégalités croissantes au sein de la société tanzanienne a pris la tournure d’une exacerbation des différenciations sur des bases raciales. Certains des partis d’opposition, tels le DP (Parti Démocratique), le NCCR-Mageuzi (Convention nationale pour la construction et les reformes) ou le Chadema (Parti de la démocratie et du progrès) ont commencé à dénoncer le monopole économique des groupes considérés comme allogènes (Arabes, Indiens, Européens, Sud-Africains), applaudissant par ailleurs l’enrichissement des quelques chefs d’entreprises « autochtones » (wazawa en swahili), c’est-à-dire Africains noirs 19. Leurs campagnes politiques, en 1995 puis en 2000, prenaient appui sur la thématique de la défense des « Africains Tanzaniens » et de leur exclusion de la vie économique et politique. Même au sein de l’ancien parti unique, pourtant prompt à se présenter comme un parti non racial, défenseur de la justice et de l’égalité sociale, des voix discordantes se sont fait entendre20. L’idée qui était promue consistait à fonder des politiques de réduction des inégalités économiques et sociales sur des critères raciaux. De la sorte, les nombreux citoyens tanzaniens d’origine arabe ou indienne, de diverses conditions économiques et sociales, se voyaient denier leur participation économique à la vie du pays (Aminzade 2003 ; Bancet 2004 ; Fouéré, 2009a, 2009b ; Crozon 1998 ; Heilman 1998).
20 On comprend mieux, dans ce nouveau contexte de remise en question du sentiment d’unité nationale (Hirschler 2004 ; Kaiser 1996) que les années du socialisme à l’africaine avaient grandement participé à forger, les modalités présentes d’actualisation d’une mémoire uniforme de Nyerere. Par le transfert des valeurs socialistes de justice, d’égalité et d’unité vers le domaine de l’universel, teinte de religieux, et par leur incarnation dans un héros national construit comme mythe de fondation de la nation, le pouvoir organise une mise en scène de ses origines (Balandier 1968) qui doit tenir lieu de charte nationale. Regroupement d’individus d’origines diverses, la société tanzanienne se devrait être une « communauté imaginée » morale (Anderson 1983 ; Renan 1997), unie par la conscience de partager des valeurs. La commémoration annuelle de l’anniversaire du décès du Mwalimu fonctionne comme un rituel de réitération au travers duquel est réaffirmé ce qui rapproche les citoyens – le partage de référents moraux – malgré l’accroissement des différences socio-économiques. De même que l’individu Nyerere avait, de son temps, travaille à faire advenir la paix sociale, de même sa figure mythifiée devrait aujourd’hui pouvoir unir les différentes composantes de la société, dans un climat de grogne sociale
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croissante. Ceci explique par exemple que la référence au père de la nation était de mise lorsque le parti s’insurgea contre les idées de promotion des populations autochtones. Les déclarations des membres du parti furent formelles : « la politique uzawa est de nature discriminatoire et susceptible de casser l’unité, la paix et la cohésion mises en place par le Père de la nation »21. Le bouclier du parti au pouvoir, qui porte l’effigie de l’ancien président tanzanien, se lève contre toute atteinte à la cohésion nationale.
Nyerere, ou comment fonder la légitimité des élites politiques
21 Si l’entretien d’une mémoire incontestée vise à perpétuer une culture nationale homogène, en entretenant l’illusion d’une continuité entre la période socialiste et les évolutions actuelles, il ne manque pas aussi d’être mis au service d’objectifs politiciens plus pragmatiques. Les renvois dithyrambiques à la gloire de Nyerere ont pour objectif d’asseoir la légitimité du pouvoir politique dans son ensemble, mais aussi du parti au pouvoir et de chaque homme politique en particulier. Mais ils ne sont pas exempts des rivalités qui accompagnent la compétition partisane.
22 Le nouveau président élu, Jakaya M. Kikwete, plébiscité par la population dans des sondages qui le donnaient grand favori au moment de la campagne électorale d’octobre- novembre 2005, a témoigné son fort attachement à Nyerere pendant la période de sélection interne des candidats du parti. Sa rencontre avec la veuve de l’ancien président, Maria Nyerere, a constitué un moment fort de sa campagne. Relate dans l’ensemble des quotidiens de Tanzanie, le rendez-vous dont le contenu est resté secret, et qui s’est conclu par la remise d’une Bible à Kikwete, a été applaudi comme un témoignage d’hommages à l’égard de l’ancien chef de la nation. Mais l’importance que revêtait pour Kikwete l’aval de Maria Nyerere prend tout son sens si on se rappelle les relations difficiles entre celui-ci et Nyerere. On sait en effet qu’aux élections présidentielles de 1995, l’ancien chef d’État s’était publiquement déclaré hostile à la candidature de Kikwete, juge trop jeune et inexpérimenté pour prétendre à la fonction de président de la République. Cette prise de position était encore présente à l’esprit de tous pendant la campagne de sélection interne des candidats du CCM au début de l’année 2005. La rencontre avec la veuve de Nyerere, en tant que cette dernière est la représentante de son défunt époux, a donc constitué une tactique politique particulièrement efficace pour lever l’obstacle pose par le Mwalimu à la candidature de Kikwete, symboliser leur réconciliation et donc asseoir la légitimité d’un homme politique appelé à être le prochain chef d’État. En outre, la remise d’une Bible au pratiquant musulman qu’est Kikwete a rassuré les Chrétiens de Tanzanie que ce candidat à la présidence continuerait à être fidèle au principe de tolérance religieuse défendu et applique par Nyerere (Westerlund, 1989)22.
23 Les manœuvres politiciennes de revendication d’une filiation morale avec Nyerere apparaissent avec évidence dans la controverse qui s’est cristallisée au cours de la campagne présidentielle d’octobre/novembre 2005 entre le parti en place, le CCM, et le parti d’opposition du Chadema (Fouéré 2006). En effet, le candidat Chadema à la présidentielle, Freeman Aikaeli Mbowe s’attira les foudres du CCM par ses références constantes à J.K. Nyerere. Non content de rappeler qu’il avait été un compagnon de route de l’ancien président pendant la période socialiste, il déclara ouvertement que le CCM n’avait pas survécu à Nyerere, le décès de ce dernier marquant la fin d’un âge d’or idéologique. Les membres influents du CCM, notamment le conseiller ont la campagne présidentielle, Kingunge Ngombale-Mwiru, répliquèrent vivement à ces déclarations.
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Arguant que seul le parti issu de l’indépendance était historiquement légitime à se réclamer de Nyerere, ils accusèrent publiquement Mbowe de tromper les électeurs en déformant la réalité historique – il n’aurait jamais été un ami proche du Mwalimu – et, par suite, en se revendiquant d’une filiation foncièrement illégitime. Dans ces attaques politiciennes qui s’étalèrent sur plusieurs mois, la figure de Nyerere, gage suppose de succès électoral, fut l’enjeu d’une épreuve de force symbolique : l’issue devait en être la détermination des héritiers légitimes de l’ancien président. Alors que pour le CCM, la figure de Nyerere est devenue la propriété incontestable du parti, il est évident que les autres partis d’opposition prétendent recueillir une part de la succession, Nyerere ayant selon eux accédé au statut de grand homme, dégagé de toute affiliation partisane.
24 Ces deux exemples illustrent les manœuvres politiciennes qui sont sous-jacentes à la réactivation de la mémoire d’un Nyerere idéalisé, et les tensions qui les accompagnent. Considérant que la revendication de l’héritage du Mwalimu constitue une stratégie efficace de légitimité politique, les élites dirigeantes se sont livrées un combat acharne pour déterminer qui pouvait se revendiquer comme son légataire légitime. Dans le contexte actuel du multipartisme, l’enjeu est de taille pour l’ancien parti unique, bien déterminé à se maintenir au pouvoir (Maupeu, 2001).
J.K. Nyerere : instrument ou objet de contestation ?
25 La production mémorielle qui s’opère au sein du champ politico-médiatique a ceci de particulier qu’elle ne rencontre guère, dans cet espace, d’opposition manifeste. Outil d’imagination nationaliste, la figure de Nyerere n’est aucunement l’objet de contre discours institutionnels publicisés qui viendraient la contester. Au mieux, elle devient un instrument critique en se retournant contre ses promoteurs ; au pire, elle est la cible d’une calomnie politique sans lendemain.
Nyerere au service de la critique du pouvoir
26 Le consensus politico-médiatique qui s’est créé autour de la figure mythifiée de Nyerere ne fait pas que servir les classes dirigeantes. En effet, certains journalistes n’hésitent pas à s’appuyer sur un Mwalimu idéalisé pour mieux critiquer le fonctionnement politique et économique actuel. La revendication de l’héritage de l’ancien chef d’État a donc ceci d’ambivalent qu’elle peut être utilisée aussi bien pour asseoir le système en place que pour mettre en lumière ses imperfections. Dans l’article intitule « A return to Mwalimu’s standards now needed »23, c’est une question rhétorique qui constitue le cœur de l’argumentaire : l’héritage de Nyerere dont se réclament abondamment les hommes politiques tanzaniens se traduit-il aussi en actes ? La réponse surgit au détour d’une mise au point sur la question de la corruption : les déclarations de fidélité à la mémoire de Nyerere sont bafouées par des pratiques cupides que le père de la nation aurait condamnées sans appel. L’auteur de l’article donne donc une leçon en forme de mise en garde aux hommes politiques d’aujourd’hui : « You cannot claim to honour the legacy of Mwalimu without respecting what he stood for » (Vous ne pouvez pas prétendre honorer son héritage sans respecter ce qu’il a défendu). Ce sont deux époques qui sont ainsi mises en opposition, celle révolue de Nyerere, et celle d’aujourd’hui, antithèse de la première, ou régneraient la corruption, le désir d’enrichissement personnel, le désintérêt envers la paysannerie, l’absence de prise en compte de la parole des citoyens. Une des critiques les
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plus acerbes de l’écart entre les discours et les pratiques des élites politiques est venue de l’hebdomadaire indépendant et intellectuel Rai suite à la proposition de certains partis d’opposition de mettre fin à la « course de la torche » de l’indépendance entre les différentes régions de Tanzanie. L’ancien président Benjamin Mkapa avait saisi cette occasion pour dénoncer la volonté des partis d’opposition de balayer l’héritage moral de Nyerere. Cette déclaration, cible de l’article cite, témoignerait selon son auteur de l’inconsistance de la référence au Mwalimu. Sous prétexte d’honorer l’héritage de l’indépendance, le monde politique se cramponnerait en effet à des symboles passes de mode au lieu de traduire la pensée nyérériste en actions concrètes.
27 Lors de la dernière campagne électorale, le déplacement de nombreux candidats présidentiels et parlementaires jusqu’au village natal de Nyerere, Butiama, situe sur les rives du Lac Victoria dans le nord-ouest du pays, avait aussi été l’objet de commentaires sarcastiques de la part de quelques journalistes. Se moquant de cette surenchère de déférence, par le recueillement sur la tombe du Mwalimu, l’auteur de l’article « What does it mean to meditate at Nyerere’s grave at that time »24 ironisait sur ces marques d’impudence des hommes politiques, peu sourcilleux face au décalage entre un engouement soudain pour le père de la nation, accompagne de promesses rebattues, et leurs comportements politiques quotidiens, illustration de leur totale indifférence aux valeurs autrefois prônées par Nyerere. Bref, le Mwalimu est aujourd’hui brandi comme un étalon de référence en politique. C’est dans l’écart entre les pratiques politiques réelles et le modèle mythifie en vigueur que se mesure la légitimité des hommes politiques. Mais comparées à la perfection de l’ancien président de Tanzanie, les élites dirigeantes, corrompues et avides de pouvoir, font nécessairement piètre figure. Elles se retrouvent ainsi prises à leur propre pige, la mémoire idéalisée de Nyerere qu’elles avaient produite étant chaque année plus insidieusement retournée contre elles, comme le montrent les articles parus pour la commémoration d’octobre 2008.
La calomnie politique, une stratégie qui ne passe pas
28 Si la dénonciation des « politiques du ventre » (Bayart 1989), prenant appui sur l’idéal politique que constitue Nyerere, est devenue une pratique courante, on constate que la sphère médiatique et le monde politique restent peu enclins à prendre la parole pour déboulonner la statue du Commandeur. Aucun article, aucun ouvrage, aucun discours public ne sont parvenus jusqu’à nous pour soutenir l’idée inverse. Les seuls éléments tangibles de remise en cause du mythe Nyerere sont à chercher auprès d’un petit parti politique populiste et extrémiste, le Democratic Party (Crozon 1998 ; Prunier 1998).
29 Le leader du DP, le révérend Christopher Mtikila, est le seul homme politique qui ose aujourd’hui, dans le contexte actuel de consensus dithyrambique, prendre parti contre Nyerere. Mais ses propos calomnieux dépassent difficilement le cercle de ses partisans. Le « scandale des cassettes » avait déjà contribué à cristalliser son image d’ennemi public de Nyerere. En effet, au cours des semaines qui avaient suivi le décès de Nyerere, on l’avait accusé d’être l’auteur de la mise en circulation clandestine de cassettes contenant des attaques injurieuses contre le défunt. Selon les seules informations disponibles, l’ancien chef d’État y était qualifié de « diable » (« devil ») et sa dépouille de simple « cadavre » (« the corpse of Nyerere »)25. Le révérend Mtikila se défend aujourd’hui d’avoir été l’instigateur de ce scandale, l’attribuant à ses « ennemis », les politiciens du CCM26. Mais il revendique au contraire un texte pamphlétaire, non publié27, qu’il envisage de faire rapidement
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circuler. Intitulé « Les informations du Democratic Party sur les péchés de Julius Kambarage Nyerere », ce libelle détaille en treize points non seulement les manœuvres frauduleuses et les supercheries de Nyerere, passant en revue les domaines de l’éducation et de l’économie, mais surtout les traits de la personnalité « maléfique », au sens littéral, de cette figure politique. Avec en arrière-plan le processus de béatification entame par l’Église de Tanzanie, le texte s’acharne à démontrer, par des propos diffamants et des approximations historiques, que celui qui ne mérite aucunement son nom de « père de la nation » ne doit pas, logiquement, pouvoir accéder au statut de « bienheureux », encore moins de « saint ».
30 La figure de Nyerere n’est pas aussi intouchable que le discours totalisant actuellement en vigueur dans le champ du pouvoir ne le laisse envisager. Mais, parce qu’ils sont énoncés sur le mode de la calomnie, ces propos critiques sont bannis de la sphère médiatique. C’est donc un discours sans aspérités que le champ politique propose à la population tanzanienne.
31 J.K. Nyerere reste une figure politique centrale dix ans après son décès. Les médias et les groupes dirigeants de Tanzanie ne cessent d’en proposer une image idéalisée, objet d’un culte d’État qui trouve sa raison d’être dans les dynamiques internes à la sphère politique. Dans un pays qui a fait table rase du socialisme en quelques années pour se lancer dans la démocratisation et la libéralisation économique, où s’accroissent les inégalités socio- économiques et les dissensions identitaires, les revendications d’une filiation morale avec un père de la nation mythifie, et à travers lui des valeurs universelles que la population tanzanienne devrait continuer à embrasser, répondent à des finalités pratiques : faisant croire à la continuité entre passé et présent, si ce n’est sur le plan idéologique en tout cas sur le plan éthique, elles constituent des stratégies de construction d’une légitimité politique, partisane ou individuelle. Les controverses observées sur les entités politiques légitimées à se réclamer de l’héritage de Nyerere témoignent des tensions qui traversent le champ du pouvoir, mais n’affectent pas l’image uniforme qui est officiellement proposée de l’homme politique. S’il est aujourd’hui possible d’utiliser la figure mythifiée de Nyerere pour fustiger les élites dirigeantes, il semblerait que toute critique énoncée directement à son égard, issue du champ politique institutionnel, soit étouffée avant même d’avoir pu se cristalliser dans l’espace public. Une compréhension globale du phénomène Nyerere en Tanzanie contemporaine nécessite donc se tourner vers les autres espaces d’expression politique pour faire écho aux voix discordantes, aux mémoires dissidentes et aux oppositions diffuses qui chercheraient à se faire entendre à travers les clameurs commémoratives remplissant l’espace public.
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NOTES
1. Ce texte constitue le premier volet d’une étude sur les différentes mémoires constituées autour de la figure du premier président de Tanzanie. Il se concentre sur les modes de production d’une mémoire publique officielle de Julius Nyerere (voir aussi Fouéré 2006). Le second volet à venir doit rendre justice aux multiples dynamiques qui sont partie prenante des processus mémoriels (De Jorio 2003, Pitcher 2006) notamment en rapport aux formes de réceptivité ou de résistance populaires face à la production de ces ritualités mémorielles officielles, et aux mémoires collectives, publicisées ou anonymes, de l’ancien président de Tanzanie. 2. Les journaux ici passes en revue comprennent les grands quotidiens nationaux directement affilies au gouvernement (Daily News) ou au parti au pouvoir (Mwananchi), et certains journaux indépendants mais proches du pouvoir (The Guardian et Nipashe, propriétés du groupe IPP Media détenu par l’homme d’affaire africain le plus médiatisé de Tanzanie, Reginald A. Mengi). Majira et Mtanzania sont des quotidiens indépendants dont les éditoriaux sont généralement critiques envers le pouvoir. L’hebdomadaire Rai, anime par des intellectuels, est spécialisé dans la critique politique, souvent polémique. Les articles cites remontent à 2004. La revue de presse opérée tous les ans depuis lors ne viendrait que confirmer les mêmes formes de production hagiographique. Certains articles sont réimprimés à l’identique d’une année à l’autre. 3. Appelé Centre des Pères de la Nation, ce lieu de mémoire institue par le projet de loi dit de « Procédure honorifique » (Honouring Procedure Bill) de l’année 2004 doit permettre une commémoration continue du premier chef de l’État tanzanien et de son vice-président au moment de l’indépendance, aussi premier président des îles de l’archipel de Zanzibar, le sheikh Abeid Karume. Ajoutons que le 7 avril, jour du décès de Abeid Karume, est devenu un jour férié en 2005. 4. The Guardian, 14/10/2004.
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5. L’ugali est une boule compacte cuisinée à partir de farine de maïs ou de manioc, qui sert de féculent en accompagnement de la viande, des légumes ou des haricots rouges en sauce. 6. Nyerere a suivi une formation d’enseignant puis a enseigné dans différentes écoles avant de s’impliquer dans la vie politique. Au cours des années précédant l’indépendance, le pouvoir colonial interdisait aux fonctionnaires toute affiliation politique, de sorte que Nyerere avait dû démissionner pour pouvoir s’engager en politique. Pour des informations biographiques, voir Hatch (1976), Legum et Mnari (1995), Mazrui (2002), Mwakikagile (2006a, 2006b) Othman (1999) ou Smith (1973). 7. La traduction de deux drames de William Shakespeare, Julius Cesar et Le marchand de Venise, a contribué à confirmer les talents d’homme de lettres de Nyerere et à valoriser la langue swahilie (Nyerere, 1963). 8. La devise de la Tanzanie est « Liberté et unité » (Uhuru na umoja). 9. Les titres de certains de ses écrits sont évocateurs : Freedom and Unity, Uhuru na Umoja (1967) ; Freedom and Development, Uhuru na maendeleo (1973). 10. Sur les représentations mythiques des sociétés africaines précoloniales, de leurs pratiques sociales et de leurs mécanismes de solidarité dans la pensée politique de Nyerere, voir Mushi (1971), Martin (1988) ou Stoger-Eising (2000). 11. Selon cette injonction, un pays libre et indépendant se doit d’être quasiment autosuffisant, n’important qu’un minimum de produits étrangers et utilisant au mieux ses ressources humaines et naturelles. 12. Le 5 février 1967, la Déclaration dite d’Arusha faite par le président Julius K. Nyerere proclame la doctrine du socialisme à l’africaine. Ce socialisme, « troisième voie » originale qui rejette le capitalisme mais s’éloigne de la doctrine socialiste orthodoxe des pays communistes, repose sur la défense des valeurs de solidarité et d’entraide coutumière « à l’africaine ». La propriété commune des moyens de production, le respect des décisions communautaires et l’obligation morale de travailler sont les fondements principaux de cette voie de développement (Duggan & Civille 1976 ; Coulson 1979 ; Batibo & Martin 1989 ; Martin 1988). 13. Atteint de leucémie depuis plusieurs années, Nyerere fut admis à l’hôpital londonien St. Thomas au début du mois d’octobre 1999 lorsque son état général s’aggrava. Il est décédé le 14 octobre 1999 après un coma de plusieurs jours. Son corps fut alors rapatrié en Tanzanie pour des funérailles nationales. Il fut enterré à Butiama, dans son village natal, le 23 octobre 1999. 14. « Kifo cha Mwalimu Nyerere kilitushitua na kutufadhaisha sana », « Mshituko, mfadhaiko, vilio, maombolezo ya Watanzania (…), yote hayo yalikuwa na sababu » (« Tumuenzi Mwalimu J.K. Nyerere », Mtanzania, 14/10/2004). 15. Un article paru dans le quotidien The Guardian à l’occasion du premier anniversaire de la disparition de Nyerere, se donne pour ligne directrice une comparaison entre l’ancien président et le prophète Moïse (« Mwalimu Nyerere was Tanzanians’ Moses », 24/10/2000). Rappelons, avec D. Westerlund (1989) que l’utilisation de références et de symboliques religieuses à des fins d’intégration nationale est aussi caractéristique de la période socialiste en Tanzanie. 16. L’inauguration officielle du processus de béatification, suite à l’accord du Vatican, eu lieu au cours d’une cérémonie présidée par le cardinal catholique de Dar es Salaam,
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Polycap Pengo, et célébrée à Butiama, dans le village d’origine de Nyerere, le 21 janvier 2006. La demande de béatification est originellement venue du cardinal Justine Samba du diocèse catholique de la région de Musoma – ou se trouve Butiama. Nyerere est déjà reconnu comme « Serviteur de Dieu », après la tenue d’un tribunal de l’Église catholique dans le diocèse de Musoma où des témoins ont attesté qu’au cours de sa vie, Nyerere avait incarné et mis en pratique les vertus chrétiennes de foi, d’espoir et de charité, ainsi que de prudence, de justice, de tempérance et de fortitude. 17. Pendant la période socialiste, le hiatus était grand entre les principes socialistes de justice et d’égalité, ouvertement prônés, et la réalité des mécanismes d’accumulation des richesses et de détention des privilèges. Certes, les conditions de la différentiation économique et sociale étaient limitées par les garde-fous mis en place (Code des dirigeants, communautarisation des terres, nationalisation des entreprises, encadrement étatique des entreprises privées), mais ceux-ci n’ont pas pu empêcher la mise en place d’une « politique du ventre » au sein même du gouvernement et de l’administration (Martin, 1988). 18. À côté des journaux contrôles par le gouvernement, de nombreux titres sont aujourd’hui les lieux d’expression des partis d’opposition ou se déclarent indépendants de toute affiliation partisane. 19. Voir le cas de Reginald A. Mengi, qui s’est impose comme une figure de la réussite de l’entreprenariat à l’africaine (Crozon 1998). Propriétaire du groupe IPP Media, qui détient de nombreux titres de journaux, des stations de radios et des chaines de télévision, il est aussi le président de la Confédération des Industries de Tanzanie et finance de nombreuses associations caritatives et des projets philanthropiques. 20. C’est un député du parti au pouvoir, Idd Simba, ancien ministre de l’industrie et du commerce, qui a relancé les débats en publiant un ouvrage pamphlétaire intitule Le concept d’autochtonie en 2003. Il y défendait les bienfaits d’une politique permettant aux « Africains Tanzaniens » de créer des entreprises et des commerces. 21. Majira, 29/07/2003. 22. Un comité de jeunes musulmans s’est d’ailleurs déclare hostile à la candidature de Kikwete qui, selon eux, rechercherait trop ses soutiens du cote des chrétiens de Tanzanie. Voir pour exemple l’opinion d’un lecteur dans l’hebdomadaire indépendant Rai (14-20/06/2005), « Kikwete kusifiwa na Wakristo ni tatizo ? » (« Les compliments des Chrétiens à Kikwete, un problème ? »), qui rappelle qu’un président représente l’ensemble des citoyens quelle que soit leur appartenance religieuse. 23. The Guardian, 18/10/2004. 24. « Dua kwenye kaburi la Nyerere wakati huu kuna maana gani ? », Nipashe, 05/10/2005. 25. The Guardian, 30/11/1999. 26. Entretien, juin 2006. 27. Le révérend Mtikila déclare ne pas pouvoir trouver d’imprimerie qui accepterait son manuscrit, arguant du contrôle du parti au pouvoir sur les parutions autorisées (entretien, juin 2006).
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INDEX
Index géographique : Tanzania | Tanzanie
Les Cahiers d’Afrique de l’Est / The East African Review, 41 | 2009