Latest News Archive

Please select Category, Year, and then Month to display items
Previous Archive
25 May 2020 | Story Prof Danie Brand | Photo iStock

What can we say about human rights in the context of celebrations on the idea(l) of African unity?

Some of the stock-in-trade questions that arise are, to me, not interesting. So, for example, to ask whether human rights are indigenous to Africa – in the sense that they come from here (whether they are African) – is senseless. If human rights are indeed rights inherent to every human being – of course they are and of course they do – just as they are indigenous to and come from everywhere where human beings live their lives together.

To ask instead what human rights bring to, can do, or mean for Africa, borders on the insulting. This question suggests that human rights are somehow extraneous to Africa, to be brought as a gift from elsewhere. It suggests, therefore, thinly veiled neo-imperialism.

Far more interesting is to ask what Africa brings to human rights – what human rights are in Africa. To this question there are several well-trodden, but still important answers.

First, as appears clearly from the title of Africa’s central human-rights document, the African Charter on Human and Peoples’ Rights, Africa brings to human rights the idea of collective, or peoples’ rights. Human rights in Africa are embedded in the fights of various African nations and the continent itself against – as Kwame Nkrumah called it – ‘imperialism and its handmaidens, colonialism and neo-colonialism’, fights of peoples for self-determination against external domination. From this arose recognition for the rights of peoples, such as the right to exist; the right to development; the right to self-determination; and the right to freedom from foreign economic domination and exploitation. This is significant, because it is frank about the political nature of rights and the importance of rights for political struggle against continuing oppression and exploitation. 

Second, as also appears from the ACHPR, Africa has brought to human rights the idea that rights have duties as their corollary. This is the idea that rights are not individual, but nested in relationships; that we each have our rights because we live together with others and as members of a broader collective, and so, we have duties towards those others and towards the broader collective. These are duties to regard others, but also to regard the collective, partly again, in its struggle for self-determination and in a sense, recognition. To take account of others, for example, individuals under African human rights law have the duty to exercise their rights “with due regard to the rights of others” and the duty “to respect and consider … fellow beings without discrimination, and to maintain relations aimed at promoting, safeguarding, and reinforcing mutual respect and tolerance”. To regard the collective, individuals have, among others, the duty “(t)o serve (the) national community by placing (all) physical and intellectual abilities at its service”; “to preserve and strengthen the national independence and the territorial integrity of (their) country and to contribute to its defense in accordance with the law”; and, not surprisingly, the duty “(t)o contribute to the best of (their) abilities, at all times and at all levels, to the promotion and achievement of African unity”. Perhaps more controversially, individuals also have a duty to exercise their rights with due regard to “collective security, morality and common interest” and the duty “(t)o preserve and strengthen social and national solidarity”. This, in turn, is significant, because it suggests a break with, or at least a departure from traditional liberal notions of rights, based on an atomistic vision of the individual and intended for the protection only of individual rights against others.

A third notion brought to human rights by Africa, is perhaps a little less known. In a manifesto adopted at the 1945 Pan-Africanist Congress in Manchester, we find the following arresting phrase as an expression of the Pan-Africanist ideal: “We want the right … to express our thoughts and emotions; to adopt and create forms of beauty.”

Here, I read a right that I have not yet come across elsewhere. This is certainly not only the already deeply entrenched right to freedom of expression and artistic or academic freedom that we are used to in Western notions of rights. Instead, this phrase suggests to me a right to both an epistemology and an ontology – to both understand the world and live in the world as we (choose to) do. How is this different from the notions of peoples’ rights to self-determination and people’s duty to assist in the quest for that self-determination referred to above? There seems to be an element of self-determination at play also in this right to understand and live in the world as we do – it is also the right of peoples to understand and to live as they choose.

What attracts me to this right, apart from the beauty of its formulation, is its self-confidence – the way in which it is asserted without reference to, not relative to, anyone or anything else. A common theme in both the notion of peoples’ rights and of duties correlative to rights in African human rights law, is the importance attached to achievement of self-determination, in a sense of recognition for Africa, its peoples, and the individuals who make up those peoples – that is, self-determination and recognition as against imperialism, colonialism, and neo-colonialism. Although current conditions of neo-colonialism and the continuance of colonialism in most ways clearly require this oppositional stance and formulation, it does present a problem. It opens both these notions to the charge that they perpetually “reduce (us) to the status of complainants” (Ndebele 2000); that in their oppositional formulation, “the confronted other (imperialism, colonialism, neo-colonialism) is still recognised as the source of power, even at a time when political power has already been wrestled away from the other” (Van der Walt 2001).

A right to express ideas and emotions and adopt and create forms of beauty – to an epistemology and ontology – is instead asserted on its own terms. It seems a right to understand and live in the world as we (choose to) do, not against, but alongside others. As such, it offers a glimpse of “dispensations of true African cultural recovery and re-orientation” (Falola 2018).

This article was written by Prof Danie Brand - Director: Free State Centre for Human Rights

News Archive

Twenty years of the constitution of South Africa – cause for celebration and reflection
2016-05-11

Description: Judge Azar Cachalia Tags: Judge Azar Cachalia

Judge Azar Cachalia

The University of the Free State’s Centre for Human Rights and the Faculty of Law held the celebration of the twentieth anniversary of the adoption of the South African Constitution on 11 May 2016 on the Bloemfontein Campus.  Students and faculty members celebrated and reflected on not only the achievements of the constitution but also on perspectives regarding its relevance in modern society, and to what extent it has upheld the human rights of all citizens of South Africa.

The panel discussion started with a presentation on the pre-1996 perspective by Judge Azar Cachalia of the Supreme Court of Appeal.  Judge Cachalia reflected on his role in the realisation and upholding of the constitution, from his days as a student activist, then as an attorney representing detainees during political turmoil, and currently as a judge: “My role as an attorney was to defend people arrested for public violence. My role as a judge today is to uphold the constitution.”  He stressed the importance of the constitution today, and the responsibility institutions such as the police service have in upholding human rights.  Judge Cachalia played a significant role in drafting the new Police Act around 1990, an Act which was to ensure that the offences perpetrated by the police during apartheid did not continue in the current democratic era. Further, he pointed out that societal turmoil has the potential to make society forget about the hard work that was put into structures upholding human rights. “Constitutions are drafted in moments of calm.  It is a living document, and we hope it is not torn up when we go through social conflict, such as we are experiencing at present.”

Thobeka Dywili, a Law student at the UFS, presented her views from the new generation’s perspective.  She relayed her experience as a student teaching human rights at schools in disadvantaged communities. She realised that, although the youth are quite aware of their basic human rights, after so many years of democracy, “women and children are still seen as previously disadvantaged when they should be equal”. She pointed out that, with the changing times, the constitution needs to be looked at with a new set of eyes, suggesting more robust youth engagement on topics that affect them, using technology to facilitate discussions. She said with the help of social media, it is possible for a simple discussion to become a revolution; #feesmustfall was a case in point.

Critical perspectives on the constitution were presented by Tsepo Madlingozi of University of Pretoria and University of London. In his view, the constitution has not affected policy to the extent that it should, with great disparities in our society and glaring issues, such as lack of housing for the majority of the poor.  “Celebration of the constitution should be muted, as the constitution is based on a decolonisation approach, and does not directly address the needs of the poor. The Constitutional Court is not pro-poor.”  He posed the question of whether twenty years on, the present government has crafted a new society successfully.  “We have moved from apartheid to neo-apartheid, as black elites assimilate into the white world, and the two worlds that exist have not been able to stand together as a reflection of what the constitution stands for.”

Prof Caroline Nicholson, Dean of the Faculty of Law, encouraged more open discussions, saying such dialogues are exactly what was intended by the Centre for Human Rights. She emphasised the importance of exchanging ideas, of allowing people to speak freely, and of sharing perspectives on important issues such as the constitution and human rights.

We use cookies to make interactions with our websites and services easy and meaningful. To better understand how they are used, read more about the UFS cookie policy. By continuing to use this site you are giving us your consent to do this.

Accept