The Cultural Weapon 27 April 2011

The Cultural Weapon

Art and democracy

Mike van Graan

The programme for the PEN World Voices Festival taking place in New York at this time states that a key mission of the Festival “is to encourage people to speak out against censorship and condemn the suppression of freedom of expression everywhere”.  The three signatories to this introduction – Laszlo Jakab Orsos, the Director of the Festival; Salman Rushdie, the chairperson of the festival steering committee and K. Anthony Appiah, the President of the PEN American Centre that hosts the Festival – further state “we firmly believe in literature as a key weapon in fighting this battle.”

South Africa celebrates 17 years of democracy this week, 17 years of the abolition of censorship boards, 17 years of freedom of expression guaranteed in the country’s Constitution which states: “everyone has the right to freedom of expression which includes a. freedom of the press and other media b. freedom to receive and impact information or ideas c. freedom of artistic creativity and d. academic freedom and freedom of scientific research.”

As part of the PEN Festival, an excerpt of my play Green Man Flashing was staged as a reading at the Martin E. Segal Theatre and was followed by a discussion.

The play is set six weeks before South Africa’s second elections in 1999. Gabby Anderson, a one-time political activist now working in government, alleges she has been raped by her boss, a high-profile government minister with an impeccable anti-apartheid struggle record and who plays a key role in quelling violence between the African National Congress (ANC) and the Inkatha Freedom Party in his native KwaZulu Natal.  If the allegations go public, it could hurt the ruling party in the elections, lead to a high number of deaths in election-related violence and compromise international investment.  The ANC sends a two-person delegation to Anderson to convince her not to go through with the charges.

Rather than the stark us-them, black-white, goodies and baddies binary oppositions of much of the theatre staged in the apartheid era, Green Man Flashing seeks to explore some of the moral contradictions, the racial ironies and the political complexities of a society in transition.   It juxtaposes individual human rights against the greater good (albeit as defined by those in power) and the pandemic of gender violence against political violence, challenging the audience to think about their moral positions in a society struggling with political and moral ambivalences.

When the play was first produced in 2004 with subsequent seasons in 2005 (some time before Jacob Zuma was charged with rape), I placed books in the foyers of the theatres so that audience members could articulate their responses to the play.  The most recurring – and for me, disturbing – comment was that this was a “brave play”, “a courageous work”, the implication being that dealing with such themes in post-apartheid South Africa was somehow considered to be daring, edgy and even dangerous.

Why would this be the case, I wondered, when we were ten years into our democracy; when, in the apartheid era, some of us were arrested for staging a piece of street theatre that constituted “an illegal gathering”, others had their works banned and still others had been detained without trial for challenging the apartheid state through their artistic creativity.  Why should writers be considered “brave” in exercising freedom of creative expression under a democratically elected government that had sworn to uphold a Constitution guaranteeing human rights?

At that time of course, Thabo Mbeki was president of the country and it was a period when the ruling party was very sensitive to any kind of criticism, where those who dared to criticise – no matter how legitimate the criticism – were dismissed as racists (or ultra-leftists if they were not white), as people who simply could not accept a black government.  It was a time when self-censorship was rife.

Often, international focus is on those countries where conditions are so repressive that we marvel at and celebrate those artists and writers who challenge the status quo at great financial, personal and even physical costs to themselves.  This is as it should be.  But sometimes, even within democratic countries, there is a need for writers, artists and musicians to speak truth to power, to challenge new political dogmas, to provide a voice for those on the underside of history.    

Democracies are generally works-in-progress and there will always be attempts to restrict freedom of expression whether through overt political censorship, withdrawal of economic resources, intimidation or other means by political authorities or those who occupy positions of leadership in some institution, community or cause.

While the general view is that the arts require conditions for freedom of expression, literature, theatre, music, film, visual arts, etc are also means for creating and expanding such conditions where they do not exist or are under threat.  The best way to ensure artistic freedom may simply be to practice it. 

 NOTES

1. The views expressed in this column are entirely those of the writer and are not necessarily representative of any of the organisations in which he is involved. 

2. This column may be forwarded by the recipient to any other interested party, and may be reproduced by any publication or website at no charge, provided that writer is acknowledged.

3. To engage with the content of this column or to provide feedback, go to www.mikevangraan.wordpress.com

Mike van Graan is the Secretary General of Arterial Network, a continent-wide network of artists, activists and creative enterprises active in the African creative sector and its contribution to development, human rights and democracy on the continent.  He is also the Executive Director of the African Arts Institute (AFAI), a South African NGO based in Cape Town that harnesses local expertise, resources and markets in the service of Africa’s creative sector.  He is considered to be one of his country’s leading contemporary playwrights.

For further information, see www.arterialnetwork.org, www.africanartsinstitute.org.za and www.mikevangraan.co.za

The Cultural Weapon 20 April 2011

The Cultural Weapon

Is democracy all it’s cracked up to be?

Mike van Graan

The Kigali Memorial Centre was opened in 2004, built on a site that also houses the graves of some 250 000 people slaughtered in the Rwandan genocide that took place a decade earlier.  As I took in the permanent exhibition that can only hint at the story of how 800 000 people were killed in a hundred day period, I was at a complete loss in trying to understand how neighbours could turn on each other so quickly, so violently.  I wondered about the much vaunted African principle of Ubuntu, our human interconnectedness: is this simply a mythical ideal that we sprout with hollow pride and nostalgia but in essence, we’re as selfish, atomised and disconnected as those in western societies?

The world ignored Rwanda from April to June 1994 when the genocide took place, focusing much more on the miracle nation down south which was hosting its first non-racial democratic elections in April too.  By June 1994, Nelson Mandela had been inaugurated as President and his euphoric speech was still ringing around the globe:

The time for healing of the wounds has come.  The moment to bridge the chasms that divide us has come.  The time to build is upon us….We must therefore act together as a united people for national reconciliation, for nation-building, for the birth of a new world.

While ethnic groups were literally hacking each other to death in Rwanda, at the very same time, the reconciliation project unifying people across racial and ethnic divides had just begun in post-apartheid South Africa.

South Africa is about to celebrate its 17^th Freedom Day marking the first elections on 27 April 1994, having been through a further three national elections in that time, and about to undergo its fourth local government elections in May.  A Constitution has been adopted that guarantees freedom of association, freedom of expression and freedom of the media.  Yet, at this very moment, there is a court case about whether the “struggle song”, Shoot the Boer, constitutes hate speech against Afrikaners.  It has been given prominence by the leader of the ANC Youth League who was 8-years-old at the time of Nelson Mandela’s release from prison and so hardly a veteran of the struggle against apartheid!  In this week too, six policemen have been charged with the murder of an unarmed man protesting against the lack of service delivery, his beating, shooting and subsequent death being broadcast around the world at a time when similar images are emanating from the non-democracies of Yemen and Syria.  And while protests against the lack of service delivery take place around the country, a South African cabinet minister is exposed to have spent large amounts of public funds on a trip to his drug mule girlfriend in a Swiss prison and on stays in top Cape Town hotels, and is now also building a mansion for himself in an impoverished town in the Eastern Cape. 

These three issues demonstrate just how little the national reconciliation project has progressed in South Africa, how far the country still has to go in transferring constitutional rights into reality and how high up greed and corruption go.  But at least we’re having an election soon…!

In a December 2010 article by Andrew Mwenda of The Independent in Uganda, he states “The ANC in South Africa inherited a strong bureaucratic state with a well-developed and modern industrial economy, properly developed infrastructure, the best human resource pool on the continent and great international goodwill.  The Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF) inherited a backward economy that had collapsed, and a nation without a functional state. The pre-existing institutions of state had been dismembered, as over 90% of its human resources were dead, in jail or in exile.  There was little international goodwill.”

Rwanda has hosted two Presidential elections since the genocide, with Paul Ngwane of the RPF winning his first seven-year term with 95% of the vote in 2003 and his second (and constitutionally final) term in 2010 with 98% of the vote.  Ngwane and the RPF have been heavily criticised by local and international human rights organisations for their clampdown on the opposition, on the media and their absence of traditional democratic credentials. 

According to Mwenda though, the lives of ordinary people in Rwanda have improved with 97% primary school enrolment, 75% having access to clean water and maternal mortality declining, all pointing to the effective pursuit of the Millennium Development Goals.  The incidence of HIV in Rwanda has declined from 11% in 2000 to under 3% in 2010, with average life expectancy growing from 25 in 2000 to 52, ten years later.  By contrast, South Africa’s average life expectancy declined from 62 before the ANC took power to around 50 last year, with a Harvard University study concluding that at least 330 000 people (nearly half of the number killed during the Rwandan genocide) died avoidable deaths during Thabo Mbeki’s reign.  The study estimated that there was an average of 900 AIDS-related deaths per day in 2005, one year after the ANC was re-elected into power with more than 69% of the vote!

The point is that there is no relationship necessarily between democracy and the delivery of services to the poor, or the improvement in the lives of the majority.  As Mwenda’s article also points out, India – the world’s largest democracy – has freedom indicators comparable to those of Norway and yet, in terms of public services such as access to education, health, clean water, health, etc, India is similar to failing states such as Bangladesh and Pakistan.  China on the other hand, not exactly the world’s leading democracy, is the one country which according to the World Bank has made substantial gains in reducing poverty, lifting 600 million people beyond the threshold of those living on less than $1,25 per day over a 30 year period.

While best practice democracies can indeed be effective mechanisms for delivery of services and for the improvement of the lives of the majority, having the forms of democracy – free and fair elections, constitutionally protected freedoms and human rights, etc – can also be means of co-option and of quelling resistance.  Where democracy essentially serves elites – as in South Africa – the masses are “voting fodder” to ensure the maintenance of the political vehicle that creates the conditions for the elite to prosper.  The constant battles (literally) to be nominated for electoral positions within the ruling party in South Africa points less to a desire to serve the South African people than to the economic and lifestyle opportunities afforded to politicians given front row seats at the trough of public funds.

The pursuit of a democracy and of a democratic culture – as in North African and Middle Eastern states at the moment – is admirable and is to be encouraged, but the lessons from further south are that democracy is not a guarantee of substantial and progressive social transformation.  It has to be accompanied by the nurturing of a culture that values the greater good rather than individual greed, that does not glorify crass materialism as signs of success, and that places people rather than profit or ideology or narrow political interests at the centre of the transformation programme.

New societies require new cultures.

NOTES

1. The views expressed in this column are entirely those of the writer and are not necessarily representative of any of the organisations in which he is involved. 

2. This column may be forwarded by the recipient to any other interested party, and may be reproduced by any publication or website at no charge, provided that writer is acknowledged.

3. To engage with the content of this column or to provide feedback, go to www.mikevangraan.wordpress.com

Mike van Graan is the Secretary General of Arterial Network, a continent-wide network of artists, activists and creative enterprises active in the African creative sector and its contribution to development, human rights and democracy on the continent.  He is also the Executive Director of the African Arts Institute (AFAI), a South African NGO based in Cape Town that harnesses local expertise, resources and markets in the service of Africa’s creative sector.  He is considered to be one of his country’s leading contemporary playwrights.

For further information, see www.arterialnetwork.org, www.africanartsinstitute.org.za and www.mikevangraan.co.za

The Cultural Weapon 13 April 2011

The Cultural Weapon

 Should artists accept “dirty money”?

 Mike van Graan

 A number of things strike one on entering Bamako, the capital of Mali.  The first is the majestic Niger River responsible for much of the green in an otherwise dusty, gravelly, semi-desert city.   Another is the industriousness of the people in an obviously poor country, as everyone is trying to generate even a meagre income selling mangoes, chickens and home-made furniture, or Chinese-manufactured T-shirts, electricity adapters and slip slops.  Then there are some incongruously tall buildings and hotels, a number of the latter bearing the name “Libya Hotels”.  One garish building is named after the Libyan dictator, Gaddafi, who has funded this – still empty – structure to house the Malian cabinet.  There are two bridges across the Niger with a third being built by the Chinese.

As one walks through the market, there are hand-made posters in defence of Gaddafi, and in conversation with some of the locals, it is clear that there is much sympathy for the one time, wannabe-head of the United States of Africa. 

Mali is ranked in the top half of the Mo Ibrahim Index on Governance in Africa and shares second spot for the best media freedom in Africa.  But Mali is one of the poorest countries in the world with an average income of $680 per year and a ranking of 160 (out of 179 countries) on the Human Development Index.  Should a country like Mali that is making great strides in human rights and freedoms – but which is relatively poor and in need of development assistance – accept aid from countries with extremely poor records in human rights and media freedom?

This is a similar question vexing some artists and arts organisations: should they accept “dirty money” that contradicts their own values of freedom of expression and fundamental human rights?  Funding is often used to buy credibility, to buy political or other influence, to boost an image in need of a makeover, or simply to co-opt and mute critical thought and practice.

So, should arts organisations, cultural institutions and individual artists – given that they often struggle to survive and are more often than not in need of funding – accept support from countries with poor human rights records and that might even suppress artistic freedom in their own countries?  How far back does one go to determine whether money is “dirty”?  Previous Cultural Weapons have highlighted how European countries like France, the United Kingdom and Germany are increasingly compromising fundamental human rights and principles of cultural diversity, particularly with regard to immigrant communities.  So, should funding be accepted from these countries?   Is their funding not rooted in the repressive colonial period, partly in contemporary neo-colonial relationships and their current trade with countries that do not have exemplary human rights records?

And how many western countries that profess support for human rights and democracy, such as the USA, are not guilty of direct or indirect abuse of human rights whether through the torture of prisoners, illegal wars (not sanctioned by the United Nations) or propping up repressive regimes that serve their interests? 

But if government funding may be dirty, what of funding from the private sector, from those that trade with and so sustain governments that abuse human rights, or who generate profits through weapons that are used for war against citizens, or through environmental destruction or simply through highly exploitative labour practices or who put profits before people such as drug companies who deny cheaper life-saving drugs to people who need them?  Should funding be accepted from such companies?  And what of more “harmless” funding from tobacco companies or wine companies that impact directly or indirectly on health and social problems?  Should artists accept funding from the lottery that some regard as another form of tax, especially on the poor?

The reality is that it is very difficult, if nigh impossible, to find “clean money”, that in a world as structurally and historically inequitable as ours, with the global free market perpetuating these inequities, it is likely that all funding is tainted in some way or another.  So then, is funding from any source morally acceptable, simply because it is unlikely to find funding that is not morally compromised through its generation, its source, its role or the strings that are attached?

Prof Es’kia Mphahlele, a highly respected South African writer and community activist who passed away a few years ago once said to the effect of “the closer dirty money gets to me, the cleaner it becomes”.

His was a pragmatic approach, one that did not see the world in binary opposites, but as a morally complex labyrinth.  If the money is used to achieve a good end or a morally sound objective, then that would be acceptable in terms of this approach.

Sometimes, it is those with options, those with resources, those in relatively privileged positions who may make more “moral” choices so that a more wealthy country may not accept funding from Gaddafi, but a country like Mali – also trying to assert greater economic and political independence from its former colonial master – has fewer options.  Similarly, artists and arts organisations with greater funder or income diversity are more able to adopt morally superior positions than those with less access to international or other funding sources.  (Not only do the rich have more options, but they can also be more opportunistic, such as the artists from the West who were paid huge amounts to perform at a Gaddafi function, only to rush to return or donate the money to charity after he turned his guns on protesting Libyans).

The locals in Mali speak of how the construction of the building to house the country’s cabinet ministers is often halted by Gaddafi when he is unhappy with some internal Malian policy or international public position that Mali takes.  (One can but wonder about the dynamics and varying interests of the current AU delegation to Libya that includes the Malian President).

In a complex global economic and political order where there are few absolutes with respect to human rights and only degrees of respect for such universal values, it is unlikely that one can adopt a one-size-fits-all policy about whom to accept funding from, and who not.  It would appear to be a question of whether the individual artist or the organisation could live with the written and unspoken strings attached to such funding.  Would an association with the source of funding compromise one’s image or the pursuit of one’s core objectives?  Would it compromise one’s ability to “speak truth to power” and be a form of co-option or lead to self-censorship?  Will it compromise solidarity with artists in the country of the source of funding? 

Generally, there is a contract between a donor and the recipient spelling out the terms and conditions of the funding arrangements, and articulating the expectations of the donor.  Perhaps – at least for organisations concerned about harming their image and reputations with funding from potentially compromising sources – recipients should draft a document that would form part of the contract, outlining their own values and principles, and the terms upon which such funding is accepted i.e. that the organisation will not change its principles, values, objectives or forsake its right to speak truth to power, even if such “power” includes the donor.

NOTES

1. The views expressed in this column are entirely those of the writer and are not necessarily representative of any of the organisations in which he is involved. 

2. This column may be forwarded by the recipient to any other interested party, and may be reproduced by any publication or website at no charge, provided that writer is acknowledged.

3. To engage with the content of this column or to provide feedback, go to www.mikevangraan.wordpress.com

Mike van Graan is the Secretary General of Arterial Network, a continent-wide network of artists, activists and creative enterprises active in the African creative sector and its contribution to development, human rights and democracy on the continent.  He is also the Executive Director of the African Arts Institute (AFAI), a South African NGO based in Cape Town that harnesses local expertise, resources and markets in the service of Africa’s creative sector.  He is considered to be one of his country’s leading contemporary playwrights.

For further information, see www.arterialnetwork.org, www.africanartsinstitute.org.za and www.mikevangraan.co.za

The Cultural Weapon 6 April 2011

The Cultural Weapon

 Mike van Graan

 Are artists part of “the problem”?

During this week, Juliano Mer-Khamis, the founder and director of the Freedom Theatre in Jenin, Palestine, was assassinated.  Shot dead in his car by masked gunmen.  One tribute describes him as someone who was “totally committed to his belief that experience with art is a means to exercise freedom”.

Also this week, one of the most well-known (and outspoken) artists in China – Ai Weiwei – was detained by his government, and according to reports, like dozens of bloggers and dissidents arrested in the last few months, his name has just about been removed from the Chinese internet.

Meanwhile, in Cameroon, the musician Lapiro de Mbanga  is to be released this week after serving three years in jail for his song “Constipated Constitution”, which was critical of the political status quo.

Are these artists exceptions?   Or are they the ones we come to know about through international campaigns highlighting their bravery and consequent persecution?

Artists often have the image of being “other”, of not being “normal”, and are variously dismissed, marginalised or tolerated for being “creative”, for thinking differently, for not being conformist.  And yet, for all the sometimes aspirational, sometimes “cool” status of being “unconventional”, artists – generally – can be pretty conservative, and, unless there is a counterhegemonic movement that has reached some kind of tipping point in which artists can find protection, we artists tend to align our interests with those of the status quo.  Of course, we might think critically, we might even voice our criticisms around dinner tables, in pubs and in our dressing rooms, but when it comes to really speaking truth to power, and to acting it out in our creative work, we’re generally a cowardly lot!

Some would argue that artists are no different to other human beings and also have needs to pay the rent, put food on the table, pay school fees and deal with rising fuel costs. Why then, should artists be obliged to do and say things that could alienate those in power or those with resources or their primary middle-to-upper class audiences and markets who help to sustain their tenuous lifestyles?

No-one seeks to be a martyr for art or for freedom of expression or to go to jail or to embrace – relative – poverty by challenging those responsible for perpetuating injustices and inequities.  But then, who will speak truth to power?  What is the role of artists within any society?  Is it any more than entertaining and giving pleasure to elites?  To seek affirmation from audiences, critics, buyers and awards judges?  To produce art of technical excellence, and to deliver it professionally?

The production and distribution of art does not happen in a social vacuum, nor on an island with no context.  Theatre, music, dance, visual art, literature and film are created and distributed in national and global contexts characterised by vast inequities between rich and poor; by rabid discrimination on the basis of nationality, gender, sexual orientation, education, age and a host of other factors; by ongoing and massive environmental destruction and by violence – institutional, military and criminal – being wreaked on human life and dignity.  Artists inhabit, and are influenced by this world.  Whether we recognise it or not, our creative work, the choices we make about what we will say and how we will say it, our decisions about where our work will be shown (and thus who will have access to it) – these all contribute in some way to maintaining, reinforcing or challenging an economic, political and social status quo.

Embedded in our creative work, and in the institutions through which we distribute our work, are values, ideas, worldviews, ideological and moral assumptions that contribute (whether through silence or overt expression) in multi-layered ways to perpetuating or challenging hegemonic discourses and behaviour.

As artists we are taught that the arts are a reflection of our society, that the role of art is to hold up a mirror to our society.  If we evaluate our work over the last number of years, what does our art say about our society, about the world we inhabit, about us?  Whose stories do we tell?  To whose music do we dance?  Whose images do we put to canvas?

There are many arts-related organisations that do exemplary work: monitoring and exposing the suppression of freedom of expression; providing refuge to artists in exile; fighting for artists’ mobility against narrow nationalist economic and security concerns….But these are often led by arts managers and cultural policy activists rather than artists.  My experience of artists is that they care little for matters beyond their own micro artistic practice, that they fail to read and try to understand the broader national and global context in which they work and the dialectic between their work (and the challenges they encounter) and the macro economic, political and social forces that impact directly or indirectly on the production and distribution of their work.  Artists care little for cultural policies and make no effort to interrogate the international conventions and regional treaties that their governments sign, so that they have very limited understanding of both the possibilities (and responsibilities) that these bring.  Artists are less likely to challenge government than to seek the blessing of political parties whom they believe will protect and advance their micro interests, even when decades of history prove otherwise.

It may seem unfair to lay a huge burden of “artivisim” on the shoulders of a sector that genuinely struggles with finding decent and regular work, but the truth is that the arts sector is a relatively privileged one. 

The question is: in whose interests will we use our skills, our knowledge, our talents, our public profiles, our access to the media, our networks, our resources and our opportunities?   How would the masses of people on the underside of contemporary history view artists?  As part of their problem?

NOTES

1. The views expressed in this column are entirely those of the writer and are necessarily representative of any of the organisations in which he is involved. 

2. This column may be forwarded by the recipient to any other interested party, and may be reproduced by any publication or website at no charge, provided that writer is acknowledged.

3. To engage with the content of this column or to provide feedback, go to www.mikevangraan.wordpress.com

Mike van Graan is the Secretary General of Arterial Network, a continent-wide network of artists, activists and creative enterprises active in the African creative sector and its contribution to development, human rights and democracy on the continent.  He is also the Executive Director of the African Arts Institute (AFAI), a South African NGO based in Cape Town that harnesses local expertise, resources and markets in the service of Africa’s creative sector.  He is considered to be one of his country’s leading contemporary playwrights.

For further information, see www.arterialnetwork.org, www.africanartsinstitute.org.za and www.mikevangraan.co.za

The Cultural Weapon 30 March 2011

The Cultural Weapon

 Mike van Graan

 Development as a destroyer of Culture

 The Government of Uganda has decided that the Uganda National Museum – the country’s only national museum – will be demolished to make way for a 60-storey East Africa Trade Centre.  The proposed “ultramodern” building – which politicians suggest will take 3-5 years to complete but which will take closer to 30 years according to civil society activists and commentators familiar with such Ugandan  projects – will house the Ministry of Tourism, Trade and Industry, commercial retail outlets and office space.  Oh, and two floors will be allocated to a new national museum.

Established in 1908, the Museum is more than one-hundred years old and is thus itself a heritage site. 

This is a classic case of “development” versus “culture”, in much the same way as “development” has often destroyed the natural environment in the name of economic growth and social progress.  For those who advocate “culture as a vector of development”, this particular case presents a major challenge, both philosophically and strategically.

Increasingly, “culture as a vector of development” has come to mean the catalysing and support of the creative industries as economic drivers, as job-creation mechanisms, as generators of the financial resources that will be used to address major social and human development needs in the areas of health, education and the eradication of poverty, all important in the pursuit of the Millennium Development Goals.

This is particularly relevant to Uganda whose per capita income is a mere $460 and which is ranked a lowly 143 on the Human Development Index.

What the Ugandan government is saying is that the Ugandan National Museum – a national heritage site and the primary repository of the nation’s historical artefacts – is not a vector of development in that it is poorly attended by locals and tourists; it does not generate income; it serves no real economic purpose, and, if anything, it consumes limited public resources.  From their point of view then, it is a no-brainer to demolish the museum in favour of a building that will generate substantial income through more commercially viable uses, and which could then very well contribute to economic, social and human development in Uganda.

By the same logic, the Ugandan government can next make a move on the National Theatre.  Why bother to have a National Theatre – even if it is better used than the National Museum – when the economy can benefit more from a shopping mall or prestigious office block or apartment building in its place?

Therein lies the philosophical challenge to the “culture as a vector of development” proponents i.e. by making the case for the arts primarily on the basis of their economic contribution, the corollary is that where cultural institutions or the arts do not make an economic contribution or make an economic contribution that is substantially less than another option, then politicians and bureaucrats feel justified in destroying culture in favour of a better “development” option.

And yet, the proposed 60-storey building does not simply represent the destruction of culture in the form of the possible demolition of the National Museum; in truth, it represents a culture that is different, even foreign to the one represented by the Museum.  The 60-storey building represents a culture of materialism, an elitist culture of ostentation, a globalised culture with a building and the values that it represents that could be in any major city of the world.  The National Museum on the other hand – the one destined for destruction – is about Ugandan identity; unique Ugandan history; values, traditions and worldviews that are peculiar to Uganda, a building and content that celebrates cultural diversity as envisaged by UNESCO’s Convention on the Protection and Promotion of the Diversity of Cultural Expressions.

Uganda is not a signatory to the Convention.  Not yet anyway.

And herein lies the strategic challenge to proponents of “culture as a vector of development”: to mobilise an international movement to prevent the destruction of the National Ugandan Museum, thus preserving cultural diversity in a globalised world, and contributing to a richer understanding of the relationship between culture and social, human and economic development. 

NOTES

1. The views expressed in this column are entirely those of the writer and are necessarily representative of any of the organisations in which he is involved. 

2. This column may be forwarded by the recipient to any other interested party, and may be reproduced by any publication or website at no charge, provided that writer is acknowledged.

3. To engage with the content of this column or to provide feedback, go to www.mikevangraan.wordpress.com

Mike van Graan is the Secretary General of Arterial Network, a continent-wide network of artists, activists and creative enterprises active in the African creative sector and its contribution to development, human rights and democracy on the continent.  He is also the Executive Director of the African Arts Institute (AFAI), a South African NGO based in Cape Town that harnesses expertise, resources and markets in the service of Africa’s creative sector.  He is considered to be one of his country’s leading contemporary playwrights.

For further information, see www.arterialnetwork.org, www.africanartsinstitute.org and www.mikevangraan.co.za

The Cultural Weapon 23 March 2011

The Cultural Weapon

Mike van Graan

BLANKS: the new threat to the United Kingdom.

While the United Kingdom is certainly not shooting blanks in its defence of the lives and human rights of opponents of the Gaddafi dictatorship, at home, it is taking aim at the latest threat to British prosperity and security: Black Artists with No Kids and who happen to be Single (BLANKS).

A senior and committed member of Arterial Network’s leadership was invited by a British arts organisation to attend the launch of a major international event featuring young artists from around the world, to be held in the United Kingdom in 2012.  With all the expenses of the participants to be covered by the host organisation, he was to be one of six African representatives (from outside South Africa) to the meeting this week.

But that has now been reduced to four.  Both he and the Kenyan representative were refused entry by the Border Agency of the UK’s Home Office for similar reasons.

The letter (edited below) from the Entry Clearance Officer stated:

“You have applied for an entry clearance to visit the United Kingdom for four days.

Any documents you have supplied in support of your application have been considered and recorded.  It has not been necessary to interview you in order to arrive at a decision on your application.

I accept that you have been invited to this event.  However I must take into consideration your personal circumstances…when coming to my decision.  You have failed to show that you have attended this type of event before whether in (your own) or another country.

I note that regular large cash deposits have been paid into this account throughout the statement period….This indicates that the account has been artificially inflated so I am not satisfied that it represents a true reflection of your financial circumstances.

You are not married or have any dependent children.  You have failed to submit evidence of any other strong family or social ties to your home country.

I recognise that your sponsor proposes to bear the costs of your visit.  However, I must take into account your economic and personal circumstances…when coming to my decision.  Therefore, on the balance of probabilities, I am not satisfied that you are genuinely seeking entry for a limited period not exceeding six months or that you intend to leave the United Kingdom at the end of the visit as required….I have therefore refused your application.

Previous Cultural Weapons have pointed out the utter hypocrisy and double-standards of the “civilised West” in their assault on cultural diversity, notwithstanding their being signatories to the 2005 UNESCO Convention on the Protection and Promotion of the Diversity of Cultural Expressions that, among other things, strongly encourages access to the markets of the global north for, and the mobility of artists’ from, the global south.

Yet, this shameful letter again indicates the extent to which rich countries will go in stamping on the human dignity of “other”, particularly those from the poorer nations of the world.

First, it criminalises the applicant by declaring that he is not genuinely seeking entry to the UK for a limited period, or that he intends to leave the UK.  The real “crime” of the applicant then is that he lives (by choice, actually) in one of the poorer and more conflict-ridden countries of the continent, which makes him a prime candidate to “defect” to the United Kingdom, a land obviously flowing with milk and honey!

Second, it questions the bona fides, the integrity and the good faith of the applicant by accusing him of artificially inflating his financial statements because of the regular deposits of large cash into his account.  There is no attempt to understand the particular conditions of the artist in this country and the reasons for such payments; the arrogant assumption is that artists in Africa have to be paid in ways that conform to western banking or payroll standards. 

Thirdly, it prejudices a whole group of people – mainly young people – on the basis of such bizarre factors as not being married and not having children.  (African AIDS orphans should not bother to apply to visit United Kingdom, unless they have been selected as poster children for some self-serving British government campaign!)  

Fourthly, there is simply no attempt to determine whether the applicant is telling the truth or not.  An interview is not deemed necessary.  The host agency is not contacted to provide guarantees that the applicant will be covered for his stay.  The partner organisation is not invited to vouch for their representative who, incidentally, recently spent months as an artist-in-residence in another European country and who has travelled widely to a number of other countries.

Without irony, the letter ends with:

“Your application does not attract a full right of appeal…Your right of appeal is limited to any or all of the (following) grounds:

1. the decision is unlawful by virtue of the Race Relations Act 1976… (discrimination by public authorities)
2. the decision is unlawful under the Human Rights Act (public authority not to act contrary to Human Rights Convention)”

Ever quick to criticise and act against those in power who abuse human rights in Africa (unless it is a compliant and ruthless dictator serving their strategic political and/or economic interests), governments in the global north are unable to see the logs in their own eyes. Abusing the human rights of African artists is certainly not limited to African regimes.   

If an Arts Watch called for in last week’s Cultural Weapon is established to monitor the suppression of freedom of expression in Africa, it should be extended also to monitor the abuse of the human rights and dignity of African artists by European regimes.

Mike van Graan is the Secretary General of Arterial Network, a continent-wide network of artists, activists and creative enterprises active in the African creative sector and its contribution to development, human rights and democracy on the continent.  He is also the Executive Director of the African Arts Institute (AFAI), a South African NGO based in Cape Town that harnesses local expertise, resources and markets in the service of Africa’s creative sector.  He is considered to be one of his country’s leading contemporary playwrights.  This column is written in his individual capacity and is not necessarily representative of the views of any of the organisations with which he is associated.

For further information, see www.arterialnetwork.org, www.africanartsinstitute.org and www.mikevangraan.co.za

The Cultural Weapon 16 March 2011

The Cultural Weapon

 Is the African Charter on Human and People’s Rights worth the paper it’s written on?

Mike van Graan

The African Charter on Human and People’s Rights, an official normative charter of the African Union, recalls the Charter of the Organisation of African Unity which stipulates that “freedom, equality, justice and dignity are essential objectives for the achievement of the legitimate aspirations of the African peoples”.  The Human Rights Charter’s preamble states that signatories to this Charter – members of the African Union – are “firmly convinced of their duty to promote and protect human and people’s rights and freedoms, taking into account the importance traditionally attached to these rights and freedoms in Africa”. 

Article 4 of the African Charter on Human and People’s Rights states “Human beings are inviolable.  Every human being shall be entitled to respect for his (sic) life and the integrity of his (sic) person.  No one may be arbitrarily deprived of this right.”

Article 5 states that “all forms of exploitation and degradation, particularly slavery, slave trade, torture, cruel, inhuman or degrading punishment and treatment shall be prohibited”.

“Every individual shall have the right to express and disseminate his (sic) opinions within the law”, stipulates Article 9.

The African Commission on Human and People’s Rights (ACHPR), based in Banjul, in The Gambia, recently issued a strong statement on the human rights situation in North Africa, condemning “the violence and use of force against civilians and suppression of peaceful demonstrators” and calling upon the “Government of the Great Socialist Peoples’ Libyan Arab Jamahiriya to immediately end the violence against its citizens and take necessary steps to ensure that the human rights of its citizens and all its inhabitants are respected”.  It further calls on the Libyan regime “to uphold the right to freedom of expression, assembly, the right to peaceful protest and ensure the security of its citizens, as provided by the African Charter.”

While the ACHPR is to be credited for this call, one cannot help but wonder about its efficacy given the ongoing – daily – abuse of human rights on the African continent (despite the self-righteous statement about “the importance traditionally attached to these rights and freedoms in Africa” embedded in the preamble of the Charter).  Article 62 of the Human Rights Charter requires each State Party to submit – every two years – a report on the legislative or other measures taken with a view to giving effect to the rights and freedoms recognised and guaranteed by the Charter.  Yet, some countries such as Comoros, Cote D’Ivoire, Djibouti, Equatorial Guinea, Gabon, Guinea Bissau, Liberia and Malawi have never submitted reports.

The African Charter on Human and People’s Rights entered into force on 21 October 1986 (and has been marked by 21 October being set aside as “African Human Rights Day”), with 53 African countries having ratified the Charter.  Technically, since 1986, and in terms of Article 62, State Parties to the Charter should have submitted 12 reports, yet the most reports submitted to date by any country have been four by Rwanda.  Seventeen countries have submitted only one report, 15 have submitted 2 reports, seven have submitted three and only one has submitted four reports, while 13 have not submitted any reports on the measures they have taken to promote and protect human rights.

In the last week, reports have been received of a Zimbabwean theatre company who are due to appear in the Mutare Magistrate’s Court on 17 March, after having been detained for two nights on 5 January.  They are being charged with “intentionally and unlawfully making noise or disturbance and beating drums in a public place, performing drama reminiscent of political disturbances of the June 2008 elections. The drama incited the affected members of the public to revive their differences”.

The play – Rituals – was ironically seen by Zimbabwe’s Organ on National Healing, Reconciliation and Integration, was approved by the censorship board and was nominated for the National Arts Merits Awards in 2010 as an outstanding theatrical production.  It was written by Stephen Chifunyise, recently appointed by the EU and UNESCO to its group of 30 cultural experts to assist governments with developing cultural policies, and was performed by the Rooftop Zimbabwe Theatre under the direction of Daves Guzha.

Last week, Human Rights Watch issued a media release accusing the Angolan government of carrying out “an intimidation campaign in connection with an announced anti-government demonstration that was inspired by events in Egypt and Tunisia.”
According to the release, the Angolan government “warned in the weeks leading up to the protest, which was announced for March 7 2011, that anyone who joined would be punished for inciting violence and attempting to return the country to civil war. Police arrested several demonstrators and journalists the night before the event. The announced demonstration did not take place.”

Journalists have been heavily harrassed and some have received death threats with Human Rights Watch further indicating that a group of 17 rap musicians were arrested while reading poems and distributing pamphlets and were released the following day without explanation.

The point is that human rights are under severe threat in Africa, and African institutions appear to be generally powerless – or unwilling, but at least hopelessly ineffectual – in promoting and protecting the human rights and freedoms of African people.  The right to freedom of expression is the premise for artistic creation and distribution, and is a fundamental principle enshrined in UNESCO’s Convention on the Protection and Promotion of the Diversity of Cultural Expressions as well as the African Union’s Plan of Action on Cultural Industries.

Clearly, on their recent and contemporary records, African governments – and multilateral African institutions such as the African Union and the bodies they establish such as the African Commission on Human and People’s Rights as well as the policy instruments that they create or subscribe to – simply cannot be trusted to advance and protect the human rights and freedoms of Africans.

If the revolutions in North Africa show anything, it is that democracy and human rights are best advanced by the people themselves, rather than their governments.  It is imperative therefore that civil society organisations be empowered with the organisational, infrastructural, leadership and financial resources in order to advance and defend the rights of citizens, and to hold accountable their governments for their failures to abide by the Human Rights Charter and the institutions that they have created.

For the African arts sector, it is time to institute an African Arts Watch programme, among other things, to monitor the suppression of freedom of creative expression in all African countries, and to alert fellow Africans, and the international community in order to bring appropriate pressure to bear on the relevant regimes, and to act in solidarity with artists working in repressive conditions.

Mike van Graan is the Secretary General of Arterial Network, a continent-wide network of artists, activists and creative enterprises active in the African creative sector and its contribution to development, human rights and democracy on the continent.  He is also the Executive Director of the African Arts Institute (AFAI), a South African NGO based in Cape Town that harnesses local expertise, resources and markets in the service of Africa’s creative sector.  He is considered to be one of his country’s leading contemporary playwrights.

For further information, see www.arterialnetwork.org, www.africanartsinstitute.org and www.mikevangraan.co.za