Dar es Salaam, Tanzania – THE STRATEGY: CHANGING HEADS
JPM’s key policy concerns are tackling official waste and corruption, enhancing tax compliance, and creating large numbers of jobs through industrialisation. In the past 12 months, he has dismissed numerous senior officials in central and local government and state corporations for suspected corruption or poor performance, removed thousands of ghost workers from the government payroll, slashed unnecessary spending on out-of-office meetings, foreign travel, and official functions, increased tax compliance, and declared war on corruption and waste in the ruling party and, for good measure, the East African Community!
JPM’s strategy sees corruption as a matter of personal shortcomings rather than a systemic institutional problem. The solution is replacing corrupt with honest officials. As opposition legislator Zitto Kabwe puts it: ‘Changing heads alone means that the president is more interested in perfecting the existing system than overhauling it.’
In our view, continuity rather than change characterises the engagement of the new government with rent-seeking behaviour of all kinds. The current government has moved to reduce the space for party political debate and action, passed legislation on access to information, cybercrime, and, most recently, the media, which may be enforced to limit access to information, and private freedoms. Bloggers and Facebook users have been arrested for expressing ‘treasonable’ views or insulting the president. Here it is argued that moves to limit transparency and accountability predate the arrival of JPM.
CAPACITY TO DELIVER: SELECTIVE CONTROL
Opposition parties describe JPM’s governance style as ‘authoritarian.’ Impatient with due process, the president and Prime Minister Kassim Majaliwa have issued countless decrees, not all of which are congruent with official policy, spending priorities, or due process. Though suspicious of the integrity of the courts, JPM still relies on the Prevention and Combating of Corruption Bureau (PCCB) to investigate and prosecute grand corruption cases. In January, JPM dismissed Dr Edward Hosea, the Director General of the Bureau, ostensibly for ignoring major corruption in the port and the Tanzania Revenue Authority. His removal was supposed to clear the way for PCCB to bring some major corruption cases to court. PCCB’s problem is that political pressures prevent certain cases from being investigated or prosecuted, and the most corrupt politicians and businessmen are simply untouchable. The Director of Public Prosecutions (DPP) routinely returns files to PCCB citing ‘inadequate evidence’ to bring a case to court.
Tanzania’s longest-lasting and most ruinous corruption case, the infamous Independent Power Tanzania Ltd (IPTL) power plant and the plunder of the Tegeta Escrow Account in the Bank of Tanzania in 2013, was thoroughly investigated by PCCB but no charges were ever brought. President Magufuli has complained bitterly about the cost of procuring power from private producers such as IPTL, vowing to put an end to corrupt public-private partnerships (PPP). When asked why the IPTL case was not being prosecuted, Hosea’s replacement, Valentino Mlowola, said the case was ‘still active.’
If Magufuli wanted to make an example of IPTL he would simply order Mlowola to bring charges immediately. But against whom? The Kikwete government was heavily implicated in the escrow scam, as were other ‘untouchables’ including Andrew Chenge, one of IPTL’s key supporters for two decades, and James Rugemalira, who owned the minority 30 per cent of the power plant.
One of the heads that rolled as a result of the investigation of IPTL/Escrow by the Public Accounts Committee in 2014 was that of Prof Sospeter Muhongo, Kikwete’s minister of energy and minerals. Magufuli’s reappointment of Muhongo to the same ministry in December sent out the message that is was business as usual in the power sector, and IPTL, under its new owner Harbinder Singh Sethi, continues to supply overpriced electricity to power utility Tanesco, despite Magufuli’s strictures on the subject. Other examples could be cited that suggest a selective approach to corruption control.
On becoming Tanzania’s fifth post-Independence president just over a year ago, John Pombe Magufuli (JPM, aka ‘The Bulldozer’) wasted no time in attacking tax-evasion by big business and waste, corruption and laxity in government, earning him plaudits both at home and abroad. Given the entrenched cronyism in business-government relations and pervasive rent-seeking within the state apparatus, can he succeed where so many African leaders before him have failed? To succeed, Magufuli needs a clear strategy, the capacity to deliver, and sustained support from both inside and outside parliament. All are problematic
To deal with the rapidly growing number of corruption cases, the government has set up the Economic, Corruption and Organised Crime Court, which has just begun operations. Time will tell whether the ECOCC has more teeth than Tanzania’s existing courts, which are routinely manipulated by the wealthy and the corrupt to make sure that justice is rarely if ever done in prosecuting major scams such as IPTL/Escrow.
POLITICAL SUPPORT: RESORT TO ‘DIRECT’ RULE
One of JPM’s self-declared strengths is that he is not beholden to any network (mtandao) of wealthy businessmen and political brokers within the current ruling elite. This is at once a strength and a weakness. It is reasonable to suspect that the majority of Tanzanian politicians are uneasy with the Magufuli strategy as it threatens their own rent-seeking activities. This is also the case for many lower level central and local government officials for whom ‘rent-scraping’ assures a significant proportion of their livelihoods. JPM has also declared his intention to clean up CCM. Anecdotal evidence suggests that the wheels of the bureaucracy are turning even slower than usual as senior officials try to remain under the State House radar.
JPM aspires to marginalise opposition parties and to eliminate party politics in local government. There are stories of virtual ‘direct rule’ by Regional and District Commissioners in opposition-run councils. Many new District Development Directors are said to have been recruited from among CCM cadres and ‘operatives.’ Both CCM and opposition MPs have complained about their ‘incompetence’ and the powers usurped by the new DCs and RCs, many of whom are retired army officers.
Magufuli has confounded those critics who expected a much messier transition from Phase 4 to Phase 5. Still, it remains unclear how he can maintain his anti-corruption momentum in the absence of a solid base of support both inside and outside parliament and the ruling party.
BUSINESS SUPPORT: FOLLOW THE SUGAR
JPM has expressed his dislike of companies that practise state capture and tax evasion. One of his first moves was to trace more than 300 containers to inland depots that had been cleared at Dar es Salaam port without paying duty. One of the depots and some of the containers belonged to Said Bakhresa, founder of the Azam group of companies, who also had a consignment of sugar impounded.
For year, sugar imports have been a contentious issue. The local sugar industry was almost bankrupted by massive sugar imports and smuggling during 2012-13. In February this year, the government announced the suspension of sugar imports so that local producers could market unsold stocks. It was announced that further import licences would only be granted by State House. Sugar prices shot up to over Tsh2,000 (about one US dollar) a kilo, compared with the government’s ‘indicative price’ of Tsh1,800. Local importers were blamed for creating artificial shortages to sabotage the president’s initiative. The stand-off lasted until May.
JPM’s stand-off with segments of the Asian and Arab business community over smuggling and tax evasion was resolved in October, when he opened a fruit canning factory near
Dares Salaam built by Azam’s Bakhresa. His consignment of sugar was also released from the port, and JPM promised to allot him land to set up a large sugar estate. Asian and Arab conglomerates are key players in Tanzania’s ambitious industrialisation plans, an issue requiring separate coverage.
POPULAR SUPPORT: SCRATCH MY BACK…
The Tanzanian voter is generally characterised as a potential ally in the fight against corruption. Certainly, polls suggest that JPM’s anti-waste and graft project has really impressed many people, after years of poor governance. But we should be wary of assuming too much. There is a widespread popular view that a politician or official who fails to ‘eat’ when the opportunity arises (or is created) is a fool who will die poor after retirement for failing to abuse his or her public office.’ In a 2014 Afrobarometer survey, respondents were asked: ‘In your opinion, what are the most important problems facing this country that the government should address?’ The main problem areas mentioned were health, education, agriculture, water, infrastructure/roads. Corruption ranked 7th, equal with fighting poverty. In a more recent survey, Tanzanians aged 18-35 were asked whether they would be prepared to give or take a bribe: Some 44% said they would; 58% agreed that ‘It doesn’t matter how you make money as long as you don’t end up in jail’; and 39% said they would only vote for a candidate who bribed them. Finally, three-quarters said that they were ‘afraid to stand up for what is right for fear of retribution.’
Though numerous NGOs have a mandate to promote transparent and accountable government, Tanzanian civil society has generally not (with a few notable exceptions) played a major role in fighting corruption, even though many ‘governance’-oriented organisations exist. The Legal and Human Rights Centre has consistently challenged JPM’s governance practices, but there has not been a popular mobilisation of support for his anti-corruption policies or against his human-rights record.
It is quite unclear how Tanzanian voters assess corruption in politics. Systemic rent-seeking in the CCM government was the main opposition political platform prior to the 2015 elections. One prime target was Monduli MP Edward Lowassa, who was forced to resign as prime minister over the Richmond power scandal during Kikwete’s first term. Nevertheless, Lowassa was by far the most popular candidate vying for the CCM nomination, perceived as a man of the people who was generous in rewarding his supporters out of his considerable fortune, however acquired. After being rejected by CCM’s Ethics Committee during the vetting process for the CCM candidature, Lowassa defected to Chadema and promptly became the opposition alliance’s joint candidate for the presidency! This suggests that Lowassa’s image as a man of the people carried more weight than his reputation for corruption. He took his wealth and popularity to the opposition camp, and the opposition quickly forgot about his corruption.
While polls suggest that Tanzanians are highly supportive of Magufuli’s policies to date, it is unlikely that the war on corruption will assure continued mass popular support in the absence of more material benefits to ordinary people.
DEVELOPMENT PARTNERS… AND CHINA
The traditional multilateral and bilateral donors are hamstrung when it comes to engaging with what they see as the authoritarian JPM approach to fighting corruption and waste. Still heavily influenced by the proposition that democracy=development, many ‘development partners’ continue to finance programmes and projects designed to enhance transparent and accountable government. There is a strong case to be made that donor-inspired economic and political liberalisation since the mid-1980s have contributed to the competitive money politics that characterises the current political settlement. Arguably, JPM is right to discredit oppositionist politics: Prom a developmental point of view, party politics is a costly and often frivolous distraction of no obvious public utility. Whether it is JPM’s right to decide on the issue is another matter altogether.
While the influence of established donors on policy has declined significantly since the beginning of this century, the influence of China as a major trade and ‘development partner’ has increased. Unlike OECD donors, the Chinese government deals exclusively with the central government and its agencies, and does not tie aid to concerns with human rights or ‘good governance,’ JPM recently signed off on a $7.6 billion soft loan to build a new standard gauge railway (SGR) to replace the existing Central Line. This and other projects bypass public procurement laws and regulations and parliamentary perusal. Projects such as the SGR have been criticised for their cost and their economic rationale. Magufuli’s infrastructural ambitions are again a subject for another day.
Many aid agencies continue to employ a normative approach to corruption. The notion that corruption is the result of personal ethical shortcomings is implicit in the widely used definition of corruption as the abuse of official position for personal gain. Defining petty corruption in terms of ‘need’ and grand corruption in terms of ‘greed’ is equally normative and judgmental. Arguably, ‘corruption’ of all kinds is largely the consequence of competitive clientelism, or patronage, where inter-personal trust is lacking and formal institutions are weak. The widespread failure of traditional ‘supply-side’ approaches to corruption control through institution and capacity building, and on the ‘demand-side’ through ‘empowering’ citizens, civil society and the media is testimony to how difficult donors find it to go beyond the ‘good governance’ paradigm.
Unfortunately, JPM’s equally normative approach to governance is unlikely to work unless it can change the underlying incentive structure governing intra-state and state-business relations. Without massive popular support and a change in the way politics is done (the ‘political settlement’), the Magufuli approach to fighting corruption is likely to disappoint its supporters. As President Obama put it: ‘Africa doesn’t need strong men, it needs strong institutions.’
REGIONAL SUPPORT: BUILDING BRIDGES
Space prevents a full treatment of this dimension of ‘Magufulism,’ but East African regional relations have been changing rapidly since JPM came to power. In particular, JPM has built bridges with Rwanda’s Paul Kagame, whose relationship with the previous Tanzanian regime was particularly testy. Observers note the parallels between Kagame’s and Magufuli’s undemocratic governance styles. Those who see human rights as the basis for sound development strategies cannot accept that Kagame and Magufuli are potentially more ‘developmental’ than their fellow presidents in the region. The intricacies of inter-EAC relations are a subject for future reflection.
THE LIMITS OF THE POSSIBLE?
What some see as an apparent resort to authoritarianism continues a recent trend to unwind governance gains achieved during the Kikwete administration that had allowed parliament inter alia to address the Escrow scandal and for the Constitutional Reform Commission to produce a new draft constitution with stronger controls on executive power.After the Escrow debacle in 2014, conservative elements within CCM decided that the open government business had gone far enough, and took steps to reinforce executive power at the expense of parliament. In this respect, Magufuli can be seen as part of an underlying trend to shore up the ruling elite against its opponents, including the political opposition, and the traditional and social media. The 2016-17 budget saw a 50 per cent cut in the budget of the Controller and Auditor General (CAG), whose reports were frequently used by parliamentary committees to make life uncomfortable for certain senior officials.
President Magufuli bears comparison with Tanzania’s first president of the competitive era, Benjamin Mkapa (1995-2005). Like Mkapa, Magufuli was a compromise candidate, not the frontrunner. Both he and Mkapa were ‘selected’ by the incumbent president to prevent other contenders from acceding to the presidency. Though both were seasoned politicians, neither was particularly well-known by the public or highly networked within the ruling party. Mkapa was under pressure to clean up the mess left by his predecessor Ali Hassan Mwinyi’s casual approach to governance, just as JPM is doing in relation to Kikwete.
But there the comparison ends. Mkapa’s anti-corruption policies were strongly influenced by donors, and the path-breaking Warioba Report (1996) on the state of corruption in the country was never implemented with any conviction. By contrast, JPM hit the ground running, and has kept running, with homegrown rather than donor-driven momentum. Many of his ‘governance’ initiatives are clear indictments of his predecessor’s performance, yet there is no evidence of serious friction between the two. JPM’s selective approach to anti-corruption may help explain why.
Zitto Kabwe 2016. ‘Will the real opposition emerge under Magufuli’s presidency?’ Citizen on Sunday, August 7.
 Stakeholders are urging the president not to sign the Media Bill.
 PPP has also been dubbed ‘Personal and Political Preferences’. The PPP model is uncritically embraced by most policymakers. IPTL was one of Tanzania’s first PPPs.
In late 2014, Mr Rugemalira received $70m (in local currency) for his company’s 30 per cent share in IPTL. See: http://www.policyforum-tz.org/sites/default/files/TGR2014OnlineVersion.pdffor details.
Polycarp Machira 2016. ‘JPM now to cleanse CCM’, Guardian on Sunday, Dar es Salaam, 24 July.
Athuman Mtulya 2016. ‘Lawmakers criticise ’incompetent’ DEDs’, Citizen, Dar es Salaam, 11 November.
Mohamed Enterprises, another Asian conglomerate, has also announced plans to open a large sugar estate.
Mwassa Jingi 2016. ‘Setting leadership integrity pace’, Citizen, 24 January.
REPOA interviewed a nationally representative, random, stratified probability sample of 2,386 respondents. The question cited was open-ended. Respondents were asked to list three problem areas. All three responses were weighted equally in calculating the ranking. See: afrobarometer.org/sites/default/files/publications/…/tan_r6_sor_en.pdf.
Aga Khan University 2016.‘The Tanzania Youth Survey Report’ October. Only a third of 18-35 year olds (34%) thought it was important to pay taxes.
 The UKAWA/Umoja alliance was made up of four opposition parties, the most important being Chadema and CUF.
 Rumours that Lowassa bought the opposition candidature are circumstantial, though figures for who got how much are bandied about in social media. Only two senior opposition leaders resigned on principle upon Lowassa’s move to the opposition, Chadema’s Dr Wilbrod Slaa and CUF’s Prof Ibrahim Lipumba, both former presidential candidates.
A recent Twaweza poll revealed that 58% of respondents did not consider Magufuli a dictator, while 60% supported the ban on political rallies. See: http://twaweza.org/uploads/files/DemonstrationsFinal-EN-web.pdf
 Including UN agencies, the IFIs, the EU, other multilateral and bilateral donors, international NGOs, presidential/state initiatives (Feed the Future, PEPFAR, Power Africa), private foundations (Gates, Soros, Aga Khan), and others.
Many criticised the termination of full-time coverage of parliamentary sessions as undemocratic.
This definition has been used by Transparency International, the World Bank, and many other international development agencies for the past two decades.
See Policy Forum 2016. ‘Tanzania Governance Review 2014: the Year of Escrow’, July, Chapter 1.
 Some committee members abused their oversight role and accepted or demanded bribes. Rosina John 2016. ‘3 MPs arraigned over Tsh30m bribe request’, Citizen, Dar es Salaam, 1 April.
Nyerere thought Mkapa was the least bad of a rather mediocre group of candidates. Kikwete was bent on preventing his former prime minister from replacing him, preferring his minister of foreign affairs, Bernard Membe, for the job. Kikwete had to sacrifice Membe in order to block Lowassa.
JPM’s accession to the CCM Chairmanship in July took place without incident.
Support The Elephant.
The Elephant is helping to build a truly public platform, while producing consistent, quality investigations, opinions and analysis. The Elephant cannot survive and grow without your participation. Now, more than ever, it is vital for The Elephant to reach as many people as possible.
Your support helps protect The Elephant's independence and it means we can continue keeping the democratic space free, open and robust. Every contribution, however big or small, is so valuable for our collective future.
From Shifta to Terrorist: A Shifting Narrative Of Northern Kenya
A section of Kenyan citizens has been labelled dangerous to the main body of the country and denied a national identity and equal status with their fellow citizens.
As Kenya was celebrating her independence in 1963, the people of the Northern Frontier District were mourning the death of their dream of self-governance under British rule. In the spring of 1962, at the Lancaster House Conference, the region’s delegation had demanded self-determination for the NFD. The colonial government appointed an independent commission to look into the question and a referendum to determine the region’s future was subsequently held. The results of the plebiscite were however cancelled under suspicious circumstances even though they indicated that the overwhelming majority supported self-determination. The people felt cheated, and the north exploded in rebellion.
Northerners, especially those from the northeast, accuse the British colonial government of craftily handing over the region to Kenyatta. The colonialists had promised the separatists’ leaders that they would delay independence for the region to facilitate the orderly transition from colonial rule to self-rule.
The British played both sides after the Northern Frontier District delegation rejected the terms of independence and demanded a different path for the district. The colonial government decided to disregard the wishes of most of the inhabitants and handed over the region to the post-independence Kenyan government. Somalia protested the move, which further complicated the north’s struggle for independence.
What had been a people’s quest for self-rule became a political tussle between Kenya and Somalia. This issue has yet to be settled six decades later, and the north has become a victim of unending sabre-rattling. Kenya became independent on the 12th of December 1963 with Jomo Kenyatta as its Prime Minister. A State of Emergency was declared for the north-eastern region on the 27th of December 1963.
The Shifta war
The rebellion that followed the declaration of independence was, to the separatists, a struggle for self-determination. To the Kenyan government, the separatists were Shifta, the name used to reduce the separatists and the NFD population to bandits, outlaws, thieves, criminals, and murderers.
The Shifta label has stuck, although the events surrounding the coining of the term have been carefully erased from the history books. The Shifta narrative was meant to unite the rest of Kenya against the menace of the separatists. The media effectively adopted the new term as a standard reference to the rebels. Newspaper headlines reported shifta attacks almost daily throughout the period of the conflict.
The “war” was mainly skirmishing between the ill-equipped ragtag army of northern rebels and the Kenya military backed by British planes and tanks. It is the population in the north that bore the brunt of the fighting. The nomads had to sustain the fighters in their midst with their meagre resources while dodging the military operations and bombings.
The conflict began on the 22nd of November 1963 when NFD rebels burnt down a camp in Garissa. The rebellion took its toll on the inhabitants, forcing them to flee in droves to the neighbouring countries of Somalia and Ethiopia. Kenyan security forces considered everyone a rebel and the Shifta label was liberally applied without discrimination to men and boys from the region. Villagisation and shooting of camel herds were used extensively by the government to force the nomadic pastoralists to settle.
The secessionists expected to receive arms and ammunitions from Somalia, but Somalia’s loud noises were more bark than a bite. Nothing of material import came from Somalia in the four years of the war.
While fanning the conflict through declarations and radio broadcasts, Somalia was unwilling to train, arm and fight alongside the secessionists. The significant material support provided to the Kenya government by the British and the superior training of the military forces eventually turned the tide of the war in Kenya’s favour.
The end of the war began in 1966 with the exodus of the nomadic population. By 1967, the secessionists were out of arms and had no resources to rely on as the nomads crossed the border into Somalia in droves in what is known as John kacarar (escaping John). The secessionists surrendered in groups throughout 1967.
Realising that the rebels were at the end of their tether, Somalia accepted peace terms with Kenya mediated by Zambian President Kenneth Kaunda. An agreement to end their differences and restore diplomatic relations was signed on the 14th of September 1967. The secessionist war effectively ended without any agreement with the secessionists themselves, without demobilisation, without any concession to the suffering population of the north and on terms that were never declared public to the residents of the NFD. Four years of bombings, shootings and plunder had left the northeastern region — where the fighting was concentrated — destitute.
Once the war was over, reconstruction failed to begin. The schism remained in place. The military went on with operations aimed at clearing the region of “shifta elements”. The cost of the war was never enumerated. The hopelessness that descended on a defeated community required leadership, which never came.
A new narrative of bandits roaming in the unsafe wild north began to take shape. Collective punishment was the modus operandi during this period. Whenever armed criminals committed a crime, the nearest settlements were decimated by the soldiers.
In the late 1970s, an incident occurred along the Kenya-Ethiopia border where a military vehicle was burnt. The locals claimed the action was perpetrated by armed Ethiopian militia. In what came to be known as the Malka Mari Massacre, the Kenyan military detained over two hundred men and stoned them to death. None of the men was armed, and the military did not fire a shot.
In the period that followed, poaching became rampant as the stockpiles of small arms fell into the hands of poachers. Overnight, the “Somali Poacher” was born. The parks were now under threat from a new breed of armed men motivated by nothing more than money, and allegedly backed by influential people close to the government. Throughout the 1970s, the Somali poacher terrorised Kenyan elephants, rhinos, and cheetahs.
The secessionist war effectively ended without any agreement with the secessionists themselves, without demobilisation, without any concession to the suffering population of the north.
In 1980, the security forces burned down Garissa after detaining and killing many of its inhabitants. This was an incident directly resulting from a disagreement between poachers and their contacts in government. A disgruntled poacher took matters into his own hands and killed several soldiers and other government officials.
The 1980s also saw the infamous Wagalla Massacre of 1984, where thousands were tortured and killed at an airstrip in Wajir, ostensibly during a military operation to curb banditry.
While Shifta and poachers were the competing narratives used by the government to explain its inability to bring the northern region under proper government control, the region suffered wanton neglect and underdevelopment.
The Somali-Ethiopia war ended in 1978, sparking the return of thousands who had fled the region during the war of secession as Somalia descended into clannism and corruption under military dictatorship. That same year, Vice-President Daniel Arap Moi gave a speech that sparked the alien debate when he threatened that the government would register all Somalis and deport anyone found to have allegiance to Somalia. It took 11 years for this policy to be implemented.
But the alienation of Somalis had begun earlier as it is recorded that police had raided Eastleigh and arrested Somali foreigners as early as 1970. Traders from the north-east were deemed vagrants and deported from areas in the Rift Valley and Central Kenya back to their home region.
Citizenship documents were tightly controlled, and a system of verification was put in place to make it impossible for the region’s inhabitants to register as citizens. The police were given orders to stop and ask for IDs from anyone looking like a Cushite, a Somali or other related tribes who were distinctively identifiable.
The pink card
In 1989, the famous Kenya-Somali verification and registration took place. The system was designed to catch anyone who could not be linked to a sub-location and known clan.
People had to state their family tree up to their sub-clans, and a pink card with these details was issued to the successful ones. The system was designed to force out of Kenya those unaffiliated to any of the groups “indigenous” to the country.
It is estimated that at one point hundreds were crossing the border into neighbouring countries daily. People were detained, women with young children appeared in court accused of being in the country illegally. Suspected aliens were loaded on military lorries and dropped off in Liboi across the Kenya-Somali border. Many families, especially those elites with businesses, crossed into Uganda and left for Europe or America. The pink cards eventually became available for a fee, and it is believed registration officials took hefty bribes in the process. The verification and registration were suspended after two harrowing years during which homes were raided, their inhabitants detained, and property was lost when entire families were deported with nothing more than the clothes on their backs.
As the “aliens” narrative waxed and waned, a new event triggered the updating of the terminology.
In 1991, the Somalia government of Siad Barre collapsed, spilling hundreds of thousands of refugees into the neighbouring countries. Kenya was grappling with its fear of Somalis and now had to face the eventuality of hosting desperate refugees, including the deposed president.
But the alienation of Somalis had begun earlier as it is recorded that police had raided Eastleigh and arrested Somali foreigners as early as 1970.
The refugees were allowed in and settled in camps where they were fed and housed by the UNHCR and other humanitarian agencies. Throughout the 1990s, Somalia was controlled by warlords who divided the country into green zones, fought viciously among themselves and continued to spill out new refugees.
Apart from participating in efforts at reconciliation and in hosting refugees and facilitating their resettlement in Europe and America, Kenya stayed out of Somalia’s affairs. As the refugees were too many to be housed in the sprawling camps in Dadaab, Dagahaley and Kakuma, some ended up living in towns with the alien cards issued by the UNHCR as identification.
The idea of controlling the movement of refugees soon became fashionable. For the security forces it is difficult to differentiate between locals and refugees and soldiers engaged in random stop-and-searches and nighttime raids in the main towns to flush out illegal aliens.
The controls placed on refugees living in towns illegally sparked lucrative human trafficking where the police and traffickers facilitated the movement of people from the Somali border to the interior. IDs and passports became available for those who could pay but were impossible to acquire for genuine inhabitants of northern Kenya.
While Somalis and their Cushite cousins were getting used to the “alien” idea, a new term landed on Kenya’s shores: terrorism. International terrorists bombed the American embassy in Kenya in 1998. The perpetrators had names similar to those of the northerners and the refugees. The “terrorist” label did not stick for another decade and during this period Somali businesspeople invested heavily in the Eastleigh suburb of Nairobi, creating a vibrant market where initially had been an unremarkable residential estate with a few wholesale and retail shops.
This economic boom coincided with the emergence of piracy on the Somali shores of the Indian Ocean. Suddenly the Kenyan media were reporting that piracy money was flooding the markets and making life costly for the residents. The Somali pirates were real, but this was part of international piracy having its operations on the lawless Somali coast. How the piracy money was siphoned into Kenya was never explained. The piracy issue occasionally crops up when overzealous reporters make disparaging references to piracy and the real estate boom in Kenya.
In 2011 Kenya sent troops into Somalia in an operation dubbed “Linda Nchi” after a tourist was kidnapped at the coast and probably taken across the border. There were other cross-border raids. However, significant Al-Shabaab attacks in Kenya began in 2012 when Kenyan forces were integrated into the forces of the African Union Mission in Somalia (AMISOM). As Kenya became embroiled in state-building in Somalia, with the creation of Jubaland floated as the reason for the invasion, Al-Shabaab started bringing its terrorism into Kenya.
In 2013, the Westgate Mall shootings led to the death of 67 people. More than 67 others also died in attacks in Mpeketoni in Lamu in 2014. The attacks on Garissa University attack were the worst, leading to 150 dead, many of them students. These brazen attacks were attributed to Al-Shabaab. Although the terror group had already internationalised and was recruiting with no regard to ethnicity, Kenyan Somalis became the target for blame, name-calling, and arrests.
In 2013, Human Rights Watch released a report titled “You are all terrorists”. The terrorist narrative drives xenophobia, arbitrary arrests, detention, and torture. After the terror attacks in 2014 in Eastleigh and Mpeketoni, the security forces conducted an indiscriminate door-to-door operation targeting anyone who did not have an ID card to hand. This security operation was dubbed Usalama Watch. Those who did not have the document were taken to Kasarani Stadium and held there for two weeks. About 900 people were taken to the stadium, the majority being young people who could not acquire IDs due to discriminatory bureaucratic procedures , and a haphazard and corrupt system that barred genuine citizens from receiving the document.
The verification and registration were suspended after two harrowing years during which homes were raided, their inhabitants detained, and property was lost.
Over half a century of negative portrayals of people from the north means that the official government policy is skewed when it applies to them. The acquisition of a passport is generally a straightforward process. To ensure that aliens from the north do not acquire this critical document, the immigration department and security agencies have an illegal and discriminatory step in place for border communities — vetting. It is not enough that a northerner provides sufficient genuine documentation. The applicant must appear before a group of government officials, security officers and appointed individuals to prove their citizenship. To pass this step, one must know their location chief, the genealogy of ones’ clan and other trivialities that are ordinarily unnecessary in life.
The emergence of one label does not lead to the dropping of the existing labels. Shifta, Poacher, Refugee, Pirate and Terrorist shape the thinking behind public actions. These negative portrayals have an impact on how national matters are debated and resolved.
A section of Kenyan citizens is considered as dangerous to the main body of the country. The secession war that ostensibly ended in 1967 is still being fought; the terms of the agreement that ended the war have never been the subject of a national conversation. Did the agreement include such important matters as citizenship, identity, development, and non-discrimination? The security agencies have not discarded their belligerent attitude towards the population and the civil service retains the policies of the 1960s towards the people of the north.
One must know their location chief, the genealogy of one’s clan and other trivialities that are ordinarily unnecessary in life.
National identity is at stake as those who rejected becoming part of Kenya at independence cannot have equal status with everyone else. They are aliens, and “they all look like”. The most dangerous portrayal is the association with terrorism; poachers and pirates are small fish compared to terrorists. In the last few years, enforced disappearances and extra-judicial killings related to the war on terror have become commonplace. It is hard to fight for the rights of one who is labelled a terrorist and is disappeared or killed.
Public association with a terror suspect is a stigma that nobody is willing to be associated with. Crimes are committed under cover of fighting terrorism, and there is nothing the targeted community can do about it. That is the power of a label; it obscures the truth, gives authorities cover to commit genocidal crimes and permits the practice of xenophobia in public.
The End of Abiy-Mania
When he ascended to power in April 2018 Abiy Ahmed elicited goodwill inside and outside Ethiopia but the continuing humanitarian crisis in the Tigray region is losing him friends.
Ethiopia will go to the polls on June 22, buffeted by various crises domestically and abroad. But the upcoming election has many echoes of the May 15 2005 election, whose impact continues to shape Ethiopia’s domestic politics and politics in the Horn of Africa. Central to Ethiopia’s current domestic crisis and the border dispute with Sudan, is the Abiy-Amhara compact.
The 15 May 2005 elections were the third national elections to be held under the 1994 constitution following the ouster of the Marxist-Leninist Derg. In the 1995 and 2000 elections, the Ethiopian People’s Revolutionary Democratic Front (EPRDF) government harassed the opposition parties, forcing the influential ones to boycott the polls, with the result that the EPRDF won both elections with over 90 per cent of the seats.
Ahead of the 2005 election, the EPDRF signalled the significant participation of the opposition parties so that Western observers—whose support was critical for Meles—would declare the elections to have been free and fair. The incumbent party acceded to the pre-election demands of some opposition parties, allowing in international election observers and giving the opposition parties a chance to sell their manifestos on the national broadcaster. These conditions were absent in the previous elections. While these were not among the chief demands of the opposition parties prior to the polls, they indicated reasonable good faith on the part of the government compared to previous elections.
As a result, for the first time in Ethiopia’s history, a nationwide multiparty competition seemed possible; neither the ruling party nor the opposition had ever faced a competitive election before.
Internal turmoil within the EPRDF preceded the election. The Central Committee of the Tigray People’s Liberation Front (TPLF)—Prime Minister Meles Zenawi’s core support base—broke up into two rival factions in 2001. With his base in the Tigray heartland at risk, Meles took advantage of his central position within the broader EPRDF coalition and outmanoeuvred his rivals. He sacked several senior officials and successfully weathered the storm, but the fault line remained and emerged during the 2005 elections.
The pre-election period saw the unprecedented participation of the opposition parties and civil society organisations in the campaigns. Election Day went peacefully, and the early results in Addis Ababa and other major urban areas showed the opposition parties making significant electoral gains. According to unofficial preliminary results, the opposition had won 172 parliamentary seats—its most considerable showing yet in the 547-member assembly. On the night of the election, Prime Minister Meles Zenawi declared a one-month ban on public demonstrations in the capital and brought the Addis Ababa security forces (which would have come under the opposition’s command had they been sworn in) under the control of the Prime Minister’s office.
Opposition parties boycotted their seats in parliament, alleging rigging by the incumbent. Their refusal to take up their seats in parliament handed Meles Zenawi and his party a third term in office. Meles interpreted his “mandate” as a licence to take the authoritarian path. Hundreds, if not thousands, of political opposition and human rights activists were arbitrarily detained, with some facing the spurious charge of treason. Ethiopian security forces killed almost 200 demonstrators in post-election protests in June and November 2005 and arrested tens of thousands of people.
With the domestic front “sorted”, Meles turned to regional matters. In December 2006, Ethiopia’s military intervened in Somalia to root out the Union of Islamic Courts (UIC), which had brought stability for the few months they were in charge. The Ethiopian forces captured Mogadishu in less than a week, and the UIC dissolved and surrendered political leadership to clan leaders.
Ethiopia’s ouster of the UIC tapped into a deep historical hostility between Somalia and Ethiopia, something Al Shabaab, the youth wing of the UIC, exploited with a mix of latent Somalia nationalism and anti-imperialism.
Ethiopia’s actions provided Al Shabaab with an opportunity to translate its rhetoric into action. Al Shabaab began targeting the nascent Somalia government, Ethiopian forces, the Transitional Federal Government security, political figures, and any Somalis collaborating with Ethiopia. Ethiopia’s and TFG’s heavy-handed counterinsurgency responses played into the hands of Al Shabaab.
Ethiopia’s incursion into Somalia took place three weeks after General John Abizaid, the commander of US forces from the Middle East to Afghanistan, had met with then Ethiopian Prime Minister Meles Zenawi.
Sixteen years later, Ethiopia goes into another election whose consequences could transcend Ethiopia.
The limits of Abiy-Mania
When he ascended to power in April 2018, Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed elicited a groundswell of collective goodwill inside and outside Ethiopia. He embarked at breakneck speed on reforms that just a few years earlier would have sounded far-fetched.
At home, Abiy released political prisoners, appointed the country’s first female as the ceremonial president and a cabinet half-filled by women. He nominated a once-jailed opposition leader as the new chairwoman of the electoral board. In the Horn of Africa region, Abiy had a rapprochement with Eritrea, a country with which Ethiopia had fought a bloody war between 1998 and 2000. Abiy also attempted to mediate the Sudan political crisis.
The Nobel Committee awarded Abiy the 2019 Nobel Peace Prize “For his efforts to achieve peace and international cooperation, particularly for his decisive initiative to resolve the border conflict with neighbouring Eritrea.”
Federalism vs centralisation
While the trigger for the Abiy-led military operation against the Regional Government of Tigray in the north of the country is the alleged attack of the federal army base by the Tigray Peoples Liberation Front (TPLF), the attack was only a symptom and not the actual cause.
The battle between Abiy and the TPLF and other groups is a battle between those who champion the multi-ethnic federalism constitution and those who prefer a centralised state. Abiy favours centralisation to federalism.
The Tigray region is not the first to bear the brunt of the military and federal security forces to achieve Abiy’s centralisation agenda. The Oromia and Sidama regions have also been at the receiving end of the violence of the federal security authorities.
Abiy embarked at breakneck speed on reforms that just a few years earlier would have sounded far-fetched.
Throughout its long history of state formation, Ethiopia was for thousands of years ruled by emperors under a monarchy with a unitary system of government. The last emperor, Haile Selassie, was deposed in 1974 and from then on until 1991, the country came under a dictatorship with a unitary system of government.
The creation of the EPRDF in 1989—an ethnic coalition of the Tigrayan Peoples’ Liberation Front, the Amhara National Democratic Movement (ANDM; later Amhara Democratic Party), the Oromo Peoples’ Democratic Organization (OPDO; later Oromo Democratic Party), and the Southern Ethiopian Peoples’ Democratic Movement (SEPDM)—had changed that.
Abiy’s shot across the bow was the dissolution of the EPDRF and the launching of the Prosperity Party (PP) on December 1 2019. The OPDO, ANDM, and SEPDM voted overwhelmingly to join the party, while the TPLF rejected the idea as “illegal and reactionary”. The timing of the move was convenient, coming just a few months before the election that was postponed because of the COVID-19 pandemic.
The EPDRF’s multi-ethnic federalism and the inclusion in the constitution of the right to secede for all “nations and nationalities and peoples” of the country were innovative breakthroughs in a country with 80 different ethnic groups. But the constitution was also a product of ideological foment and political necessity. The leaders who revolted against the Mengistu junta had emerged from the student movement that had adopted the “nationalities and the land question”, redefining Ethiopian statehood.
The Oromia and Sidama regions have also been at the receiving end of the violence of the federal security authorities.
While the multi-ethnic federalism has been imperfect, especially its implementation and the domination of the EPDRF by the TPLF, in a multi-ethnic country with historical and contemporary grievances against the state, federalism has acted as a safety valve against ethnic tension.
Abiy and Amhara expansionism
The Amharas are Abiy’s vociferous supporters at home. They, especially their elites, have an axe to grind with the TPLF for diluting their decades of uninterrupted state power and control. Amhara language and culture are the state’s language and culture, and the language and culture of the Orthodox Church which wields unfettered power. But with its political nous, its deep bureaucracy and know-how, the TPLF was always a challenging prospect for Abiy, a political novice with limited federal-level experience and hardly a political base. The connecting tissue of Abiy-Amhara unity is the lowest common denominator that is the fear and loathing of the TPLF. After dissolving the EPDR, a coalition in which the TPLF was a strong partner, the next step was to defeat the TPLF militarily. Even before the November military incursion into Tigray, Amhara militias were massed at the border with Tigray. If Abiy’s anti-TPLF move was intended to destroy them as a political force, for the Amharas this was an opportunity to regain some of the territories they had lost to Tigray in 1991.
Ethiopia also has a boundary dispute with Sudan. The dispute centres on the al-Fashaga region, Sudan’s fertile breadbasket located in Gedaref State, which borders Ethiopia’s Amhara region in the north-west. According to the Anglo-Ethiopian Treaty of 1902 the area belongs to Sudan and, unlike the regime of Omar al-Bashir, for the transitional government of Prime Minister Abdulla Hamdok, settling this dispute is a priority. However, the Abiy-Amhara alliance has made resolving the dispute complicated.
Sudan is also a critical factor in resolving the Tigray crisis; the country is the only remaining supply route for the TPLF as Eritrea is closed to them and bringing in supplies and fuel through other routes is risky. Sudan could also determine how the GERD dam conflict will be resolved. Unlike Egypt, Sudan could benefit from cheap electricity if the dam is filled, but the country will not countenance losing al-Fashaga. Abiy faces difficult choices: cede al-Fashaga to Sudan and gain a partner in the dam negotiations while also denying the TPLF a supply route or keep al-Fashaga and lose Sudan in the GERD dam discussions, leaving the TPLF to use the Sudan border for supplies.
The Tigray conflict, which Abiy initially promised would be a straightforward law enforcement operation, has instead metastasised into a slow-grinding counterinsurgency operation. The continuing humanitarian crisis in the Tigray region is losing Abiy friends.
On May 23, the US State Department announced visa restrictions for any current or former Ethiopian or Eritrean government officials, members of the security forces, or other individuals—including Amhara regional and irregular forces and members of the Tigray People’s Liberation Front (TPLF)—responsible for, or complicit in, undermining the resolution of the crisis in Tigray.
In a multi-ethnic country with historical and contemporary grievances against the state, federalism has acted as a safety valve against ethnic tension.
America’s sanctions came on the heels of the European Union’s suspension of budgetary support worth €88 million (US$107 million) until humanitarian agencies are granted access to people in need of aid in the northern Tigray region.
On the 7th of June 2021, Representatives Gregory Meeks (D-NY) and Michael McCaul (R-TX), who is also Chairman and Ranking Member of the House Foreign Affairs Committee, together with Karen Bass (D-CA) and Christopher H. Smith (R-NJ), respectively Chairwoman and Ranking Member of the House Foreign Affairs Subcommittee on Africa, Global Health and Global Human Rights, issued a joint statement after tabling a resolution condemning violence and human rights abuses in Ethiopia.
The sanctions come as Ethiopia awards its first telecom licence for US$850 million to a consortium that includes the UK’s Vodafone in what could herald the opening up of Ethiopia’s closed economy.
Before the EPDRF came into power, Ethiopia was a posterchild of famine and incessant conflict, especially under the Derg regime. Abiy and Amhara nationalism is bringing back the echoes of the Derg era and the upcoming June election is unlikely to resolve current crises; if anything, it will exacerbate them.
We Still Can’t Breathe: Chauvin’s Conviction Maintains the Status Quo
Chauvin is simply a cop who committed an action so ugly that he had to be made an example of so that America could get back to normal.
Sometimes even the “biggest” victories can ring hollow. That especially seems to be the case several months into 2021, and 11 odd months after George Floyd had his life snuffed out in front of a red-brick grocery store in South Minneapolis, around the corner from the “Little East Africa” neighbourhood. That Derek Chauvin, the cop who laid his blatancy in the form of a knee across Floyd’s neck in a gutter finally faced some form of consequence in the form of a guilty verdict, may, in and of itself be of little consequence in the grandest of schemes.
Yes, right now it seems as though the verdict that has come down harshly on Chauvin is a rebuke of all things heinous, nothing less than a massive moral victory for racial progress, black America and global equality.
Indeed, rainbows shall now shine through and if you listen to many pundits within the American (and for that matter, Western) broadcast media, racism against Black America has been solved once and for all — à la the presidential election of Barack Obama way back in those heady days of 2008.
Chauvin will be sentenced on June 25th of this year. Much of Black America is already lowering their expectations away from the 40-year maximum prison sentence.
Life is full of disappointments.
In itself, the Chauvin verdict is not one of them; it is just another opportunity for a larger collective sadness, another opportunity for an eventual letdown, a reminder of the global system of injustice that is, frankly, far as hell from ever being permanently resolved.
I haven’t been in Minneapolis since the end of May 2020, the Saturday following the Floyd killing, when the very landscape and fabric of the “Twin Cities” of Minnesota and Saint Paul were irrevocably changed. Walking around that day, the sense of despair was palpable. All of Lake Street — all seven kilometers of it — seemed to have been hit by varying degrees of madness. Some buildings were completely burnt out, husks of their former selves; others had smashed windows or had “BLACK OWNED BUSINESS: DON’T BURN!” scrawled in graffiti across the boarded-up doors. Thousands of people trudged around with shovels, cleaning up debris ahead of the inevitable next night of chaos.
In the weeks that followed, the protests spread across the United States, and even took root on a global scale, spreading as far as Nairobi, London, Kampala, Rome and dozens of other cities. In Minneapolis, all the tension of a tense superpower seemingly dying of its own hubris during the chaotic early months of the COVID-19 pandemic descended on an idyllic neighbourhood. By the day I arrived, May 30th, the United States National Guard was being deployed to put down any form of violence with their own forms of violence. But the damage had been done and the rest of the country was experiencing its own varying levels of chaos. At least two people were killed in Minneapolis alone (and at least 19 across the rest of the US, though this number seems to be low). Dozens of people were injured in Minneapolis alone (although the exact numbers are hard to confirm; personally I talked to at least three people who had sustained non-lethal injuries during the protests, so the real number could be much higher).
Thousands were injured across the US, with hundreds more incidents of police brutality filmed and shared widely. In Minneapolis there was approximately KSh 53 billion worth of damage related to the unrest. Bob Kroll, the president of the Police Officers Federation of Minneapolis who allegedly had white supremacist ties retired at the beginning of 2021. The Minneapolis Police Department was defunded following the reckoning that fell upon the Twin Cities in those warm early summer weeks.
Among pundit across America, talk of alliance and “listening” rapidly became the norm. Many leading neo-liberals put out statements, Republicans and Democrats alike. Trump ordered the beating up of peaceful protesters in front the White House and goodhearted liberals were shocked and appalled. Everyone said it was a “sea change” in American race-relations.
Less than three months after the George Floyd protests kicked off there was a “monumental change” — Jacob Blake was shot in the back by police in the city of Kenosha, in my home state of Wisconsin. The NBA boycotted games, more conversations were had and the world kept right on turning, same as it ever has.
When it comes down to issues of inequality, racism and oppression the status quo is always maintained, especially in America. Two steps forward and three steps back seems to be the pattern, one that is only reinforced by the pattern of police getting away with the murder of Black Americans — whether on tape or merely under “suspicious” circumstances in which “the officer felt their life was threatened and required a response of lethal force”.
Perhaps it is this constant pattern of impunity that has caused the most damage, a pattern that in the US can be traced to well before the 1992 Rodney King riots in Los Angeles, California. The riots were sparked off by the acquittal of cops who had been caught on film beating and kicking King senseless on the shoulder of a freeway.
It’s the same as it ever was.
Over the years since, especially in this age of social media ubiquity, incidents police violence against Black men, women and children have been caught on camera with horrifying regularity.
Horrifying, but not at all surprising. Everyone within the Black community in the US has long known the score. “Officers under threat” deaths, cases failing to be investigated, rumours of pistols being planted, delays in emergency responder times, ties to white supremacy, “warrior cops” getting more military equipment, stop-and-frisk policies, higher incarceration rates among Blacks, continual harassment, talking to children about keeping hands visible when dealing with police, media bias, fetishisation of police, the “Blue Lives Matter” movement — the list of systemic issues within US police forces could fill the remainder of this article.
In this age of social media ubiquity, incidents of police violence against Black men, women and children have been caught on camera with horrifying regularity.
The American judicial system itself is inherently flawed. The narrative among much of the “upstanding” upper middle-class elements of society is that somehow race relations were, if not solved outright, repaired with a sustained “upward” trajectory somewhere around the funeral of civil rights leader Martin Luther King Jr. after his assassination in 1968.
They paint a rosy picture of race-relations in the US in which all segregationist judges were replaced with forward thinking progressives, where all cops with KKK ties were unceremoniously fired, where the ghosts of “Jim Crow” laws (designed to suppress, segregate and subjugate post-slavery Black America) simply faded into the distant memories of a bygone era. The result was a sort of racial Cold War, where proxy wars were fought through the war on drugs, mass incarceration, neoliberalism and police impunity.
“At least segregation is illegal now”, says White America when pressed, as if cities, schools, hospitals and police actions were not still segregated sans overt painted signs.
Such sentiments bled into the politics of the US’s two major parties, Republicans spearheading the “War on Drugs” under the Reagan presidency of the 1980s and the Clinton administration cutting social programmes and accelerating mass incarceration during the 90s under the all-American ideal of “pulling oneself up by your bootstraps”. Such proponents of America’s neo-liberal ethos cared little whether there were any boots to begin with.
Slowly the technology caught up with the reality, and the anger felt across the marginalised communities in America had a focal point on which to pour out their frustrations. The images were there on film, little snippets sent into cyberspace by countless onlookers. The anger was in the bloody and lifeless body of Michael Brown lying for hours in a Missouri street. It was in Eric Garner pleading that he couldn’t breathe while being choked to death by cops in New York City. It was in Philando Castille being shot and killed in his car seconds after telling the officer who had pulled him over that he had a licensed gun in the car and reached for his wallet. (This shooting also happened in the Twin Cities area of Minnesota.) It was in Breonna Taylor being shot dead on a no-knock warrant in Louisville, Kentucky only for the officers to be charged with “wanton endangerment” for firing bullets into a neighbouring apartment.
None of the officers in the above incidents were convicted. Some were never even brought into a courtroom.
On April 11th 2021, Daunte Wright was shot and killed by a cop during a traffic stop in a suburb of Minneapolis, Minnesota. Details and footage of the incident are scant. The officer involved has been charged with second-degree manslaughter (a lesser charge than homicide in the US court system). Protests have sprung up around the US, youth wearing surgical masks — the hallmark of the smoldering COVID-19 pandemic — clashing with police and facing arrest, and “non-lethal weapons being deployed by officers to quell pockets of unrest”. This killing occurred at the epicentre of the “defund the police” movement — Minneapolis.
The cycle continues same as ever, two steps forward and three steps back in Black America’s quest for equitable treatment.
The police are just the visible agents of the systemic suppression of Black people that stretches far beyond the shores of the US.
If COVID-19 has shown up anything, it is the brutality of police worldwide. Most times their actions go on with impunity. Cops in Kenya beat up people without mercy and enforce curfew by leaving motorists stranded on highways. In Uganda cops extort commuters under threat of jail. In Rwanda the stranglehold on the nation continues to tighten under threat of harsh penalties.
There is no equality when it comes to the Global South, particularly for much of Africa whose suffering at the hands of the police echoes the oppression faced by the Black community in the US.
The cycle continues same as ever, two steps forward and three steps back in Black America’s quest for equitable treatment.
Through this lens of warranted cynicism, the “guilty” verdict handed down to Derek Chauvin by a jury in Minnesota is not a massive turning point. The very pundits stating that the verdict is such a monumental moment of change inherently prove that it is nothing remotely close to such a trend. There will be other failed indictments, other cops walking away, more cases of mysteriously “lost” body-cam footage. More will die, protests will spring up and be quelled with extreme prejudice.
Chauvin, the smirking killer that he is, did prove one thing and one thing only: where the “line” truly is, where the grey areas that the police hide behind blur over into black and white, from a “justified act of lethal self-defense from a frightened officer” into outright murder. His actions were so unquestionably heinous that they had to be dealt with. What Chauvin did derives directly from an ugly history; he lynched that man and at the time thought he would get away with it, hands in pockets, cocky half-smile on his face while his bodyweight cut off George Floyd’s air supply in that street gutter. Bystanders begged him to stop as the other officers watched in idle complicity. Paramedics were not allowed to give medical aid and Chauvin continued to apply pressure for minutes after Floyd had become non-responsive.
The systems, after all, stay much as they are in America. Profit margins must be maintained and “order” by way of the status quo must be upheld. The Twin Cities, of which Minneapolis is the more visible twin, would have simply exploded if the verdict had come back anything less than guilty. After a year of protests, COVID-19 lockdowns, electoral strangeness, Trumpian policies, political divisions, economic challenges and continued incidents of police violence, the tinderbox that was Minneapolis could not have handled Chauvin walking free out of the courthouse to appear on Fox News to “thank God”.
If that had happened the resulting violence would have dwarfed any incidents of unrest in America’s past. It is likely that weeks later clashes with police would be continuing on a nightly basis in dozens of cities across America. Minneapolis, where major corporates are headquartered, would have been engulfed in flames so huge the smoke would have been seen in the neighbouring state of Wisconsin.
The tinderbox that was Minneapolis could not have handled Chauvin walking free out of the courthouse to appear on Fox News to “thank God”.
Chauvin’s true legacy is that of an outlier, the ultimate talking-head example that “things are different now”, that something has truly been accomplished on a systemic level when it comes to police treatment of Black America.
In reality, Chauvin is simply a cop who committed an action so ugly that he had to be made an example of so that America could “get back to normal”.
For Black America in 2021 however, normal life is chockful of disappointments.
Politics1 week ago
From Shifta to Terrorist: A Shifting Narrative Of Northern Kenya
Long Reads2 weeks ago
Tanzania: The Dialectics of Maguphilia and Maguphobia
Politics2 weeks ago
The End of Abiy-Mania
Op-Eds2 weeks ago
BBI and Kenya’s Finest Jurists
Reflections2 weeks ago
Benjamin Ayimba: The Making of a Rugby Great
Long Reads6 days ago
The West and Its African Monsters Syndrome
Op-Eds2 weeks ago
India’s COVID-19 Surge Is a Warning for Africa
Culture2 weeks ago
Forgotten Histories: Eugenics, Racism and Colonial Mental Doctors in Kenya