This is the second part of an extract from a 2014 report by the CROSS-CULTURAL FOUNDATION OF UGANDA (CCFU), explaining the conflict in the volatile Rwenzori region.
The first part, published on Friday, dwelt on the cultural roots of persistent tensions. Part 2 tackles economic issues and delves into the politics of cultural institutions.
Closely connected to the ‘cultural narrative’ is one related to land and its original occupancy. The Basongora, for instance, claim to be one of the oldest kingdoms in the region, with a chronology of 23 kings, which was forcefully absorbed by its neighbours.
They are proud of a genealogy which they claim makes them one of the oldest indigenous communities inhabiting the rift valley and the foothills of what is now known as the Rwenzori mountains, long before the colonial era.
They also claim that the Bakonzo later migrated and were accommodated by the Basongora, eventually relocating to the mountains while the lowland grazing areas were called ‘busongora’ from which the ethnic group derives its name.
With time, the Bakonzo, aided by their larger numbers, came to believe, according to the Basongora interviewed, that they were the original inhabitants of the region, a claim that has fuelled conflicts with their neighbours: “Many young Bakonzo believe that the Basongora never existed before and are an invasion force”.
A similar narrative prevails among the Banyabindi, according to whom there is evidence of long occupation of the land, including land agreements dating back to the 1930s and photographs of their forefathers who guided the first European explorers to the area over 100 years ago.
They point to the names of places in Runyakitara – as testifying to their original occupancy of the region – although, with the establishment of the OBR, there have been recent attempts to change these names into Lhukonzo.
The Banyabindi also claim to have welcomed the Bakonzo in their midst. With time, because of their larger population, the latter have come – according to the Banyabindi respondents – to believe that the land is theirs and that the Banyabindi are the immigrants.
In contrast, some of the Bakonzo retorted that “In the 1960s the Banyabindi sold their land willingly – we never chased them”.
In an attempt to reclaim their land, the Banyabindi took legal action, were successful, but their lives were threatened when they attempted to return to the land they claimed.
As a minority group with 15,000 people in the region, the Banyabindi have been protected from harassment by the state but generally continue to feel marginalised.
LAND OWNERSHIP
Connected to the history of settlement, current land use and distribution also provide important sources of conflict in the Rwenzori region.
The chairperson of the Kasese Land Board thus points out that the conflict is between economic and occupational activities within the same area where there are cultivators and cattle keepers: “Crops and animals have never been friendly. The problem is between the activities, and not the people; for example, wild animals and crops, cows and maize”.
With regard to cultural identity and land ownership, gazetting land for conservation purposes by the Uganda Wildlife Authority has, for a start, led to conflicts and to the loss of cultural references.
New conflicts have emerged as a result of the displacement of people from their ancestral land, resistance from ‘hosting’ communities and conflicts between the conservation authority and communities living on the boundaries of the protected areas.
It was also noted by several respondents that the demarcation of protected areas does not accommodate population growth and the consequences of relocation. In addition, conflicts have emerged in respect to restricted access to heritage sites, although there are now attempts to allow access, under specific circumstances.
The expectation of valuable oil resources in the lowlands is a further source of friction, as it is accompanied by claims of ownership and demands for compensation.
In addition, as the Basongora, who are predominantly nomadic pastoralist communities in the lowlands, traditionally did not mark land ownership by their permanent physical presence, some Bakonzo descended from the mountains and made claims on large tracts of their land in their absence.
Finally, what is often considered as the politics of division promoted by politicians has deepened conflict related to access to allocation of land. A traditional cultural head (‘ridge leader’) for instance stated that “Government is responsible for introducing an ethnic dimension to land, by allocating more land to the Basongora as “pastoralists”.
POLITICS AND KINGDOMS
While the colonially-supported recognition of the Tooro kingdom eventually led to violent resistance, the establishment of the OBR led to the expectation that conflict in the region would subside.
Yet, the underlying historical and latent conflicts are not easily erased, as evidenced, for instance, in the uneasiness with which the news of the King of Tooro’s recent visit to Kilembe, within the Rwenzururu kingdom, was received by the Bakonzo and the OBR.
It would indeed appear that the leadership of the different cultural institutions in the region – recognised or not by the state – have recreated systems and structures that suit their purpose but contribute to intra-ethnic tensions and divided loyalty.
The establishment of cultural institutions was perceived by some respondents as a mechanism to reduce ethnic tensions and conflicts or as a defence mechanism. Thus a ridge leader interviewed stated: “It is a relief to have our own kingdom now” while a Musongora felt that “Declaring our own institution is a useful mechanism; we feel proud and fight the image of the Basongora as bad”.
The genesis of these institutions, their growing numbers and their contested legitimacy, however, nourishes scepticism. One observer thus queried: “How many anthems can we sing?”
In the case of OBR, the Bakonzo were earlier governed through a decentralised leadership system, where people on four or five mountain ridges constituted a ‘chiefdom’ whose affairs were overseen by a ridge leader. This system has now been converted into a centralised kingdom in which the ridge leaders have lost much of their power.
The OBR has in effect established a new parallel governance structure of traditional but ‘modern’ educated leaders in each sub-county: “there is only one ridge leader now – the king”.
The OBR and other such institutions are thus to an extent ‘re-invented’, as one head-teacher interviewed observed: “Cultural leaders are new here and OBR is not inclusive; it was rushed and misconceived, and has to some extent left behind the lower level cultural leaders, as did the rebellion. Now even youth in my school are being recruited – what message will they get from OBR?”
Secondly, by publicly declaring an unwillingness to parcel out his kingdom, the king not only marked territorial boundaries, but also provided a justification for future resistance to any attempts by the other non-Bakonzo ethnic groups to demand physical or cultural autonomy and by so doing has laid the ground for conflict.
Demarcating the ‘territory’ or area of jurisdiction for a given traditional kingdom does not provide a solution to the current conflict, especially where limited impartial information is available.
An NGO leader thus observed: “Yes, conflict is around the corner, especially because the youth can be easily misled (they authored the recent violence and they led the demonstrations) and the creation of new cultural institutions provides a fertile ground. OBR actually wants a separate state. Many of the leaders and youth are uneducated and have hate mindsets, and they are killed by poverty.”
Third, cultural institutions, such as OBR, can easily appear to be driven by a political and economic agenda, with the promotion and preservation of culture as a secondary objective.
In such cases, the cultural legitimacy of the institution wanes in the eyes of the majority of the people, as their concerns for heritage preservation are not addressed, besides state recognition of their cultural identity. Some of the newly-recognised cultural institutions are indeed victims of political agenda (real or imagined) beyond their control.
A group of Bakonzo youth interviewed for instance remarked: “Our problem is government manipulation to dismantle OBR”. This leads to insecurity about retaining a newly-found status and access to the associated benefits, and to a reduced concern about conflicts and their consequences. Thus, despite the influential position cultural leaders are thought to hold, their potential role in subduing or managing conflict is sometimes compromised by their actions either by omission or commission.
At local level, ‘state politics’ and the politics of the cultural institution are frequently enmeshed, as illustrated in the fact that many ‘cultural’ leaders are simultaneously ‘political’ leaders. In the Rwenzori region, politicians (and some religious leaders) were also frequently blamed for the existence of conflicts.
Instead of being impartial with regard to the common concerns of the people, political leaders were seen to exploit historical conflicts to instigate divisions in the community.
Some respondents noted that on the one hand the politicians promise benefits and profess to be supportive of unity in one place, and on the other hand emphasise ethnic differences, fuel division, and even discourage intermarriages when they are in a different community.
With their political agenda at the fore, politicians also play one ethnic groups against each other – including, as noted above, with regard to land. Some respondents also stated that “To a great extent this is happening because there is a ‘head in the sand’ attitude and the leaders are not directly affected by the conflicts. They will have to be blamed when all this erupts”.
As a group of Bakonzo elders shared, “Politicians nourish our conflicts for self-interest; so, they have not taken the initiative to promote peace. They are aloof: they do not give advice to the people”. The hidden hand of central government is also pointed out. A school headmaster explained:
“Now government is to blame – by ever splitting districts and wakening selfish interests and demands by people to have their own districts, placing ethnicity at the forefront of any consideration, so leaders dance to their tune and violence is a round the corner. If you do not know how to say a goat with long horns in Lhukonjo, you cannot be a political candidate.”
Similarly, the LC-V vice chairman in Kasese notes that the emerging demand for a separate district for the Basongora is an area of contention: “the quest for a separate kingdom for the Basongora has led to the quest for a separate district. [But] Rwenzururu fighters consider that the current Kasese district was granted status after bloodshed and, therefore, should not be divided just like that.”