no. P4 2005

GLOBAL KNOWLEDGE

No. 22007

RESEARCH ACROSS BOUNDARIES

Concepts and Confl icts

Indigenous peoples and the fi ght for resources

AC C OR DI NG T O T H E U N I T E D N A T ION S , between 300

and 370 million people defi ne themselves as indigenous. At

least 5 000 distinct indigenous societies in more than 70

countries worldwide account for about six per cent of the to-

tal world population.

There is no fi xed defi nition of the term indigenous. Indi-

genous people are usually defi ned as an ethnic group who

lived in a certain location before anybody else. They distin-

guish themselves through specifi c linguistic, cultural and

other social characteristics, and are often politically under-

privileged. It is a politically constructed defi nition, used to-

day to emphasise certain groups’ rights.

But the term indigenous is contested. Some academics

claim it is an essentialist concept and even racist, when used

in the presence of other marginalised groups in a society.

Some communities defi ned as indigenous see the term as a

Eurocentric creation which does not describe who they are.

And many governments are against it, claiming it contributes

to an unwanted division of the nation.

One fact remains, whether one approves of the term

or not: these six per cent of the world are less educated,

have poorer health and lower material living standards

compared to the non-indigenous populations. They do

comparatively worse regardless of whether they live in

a wealthy country, like the Sami in Norway, or in a poor

country, like the Shangana in Mozambique; whether they

are in the majority, like the Amerindians of Bolivia, or

whether they account for a small minority, like the U’wa

in Colombia.

The U’wa consist today of about 6000 people living in

the cloudforest. They live in an area rich in one of the world’s

most important resources: oil. In 1995 the community per-

formed a media stunt: they threatened to commit suicide if

the American company Occidental Petroleum was allowed

to drill for oil in their traditional territories.

This is but one of many examples of the confl ict in the

debate on who the indigenous are and which rights should

result from this defi nition.

For those indigenous peoples who live traditionally, the

land, and the natural resources, are an intrinsic part of life.

But these natural surroundings are often very valuable to oth-

er individuals, companies or authorities, as they often are rich

in resources such as oil and gas, timber, minerals or water.

The recently ratifi ed UN Declaration on the Rights of

Indigenous Peoples – which was approved after 22 years of

debate – put forward the right for indigenous people to land

and resources in a way unprecedented in international human

rights law. The UN has declared 2005–2014 to be the Second

International Decade of the World’s Indigenous Peoples. One

of the main goals is to strengthen international cooperation

over environmental problems.

The control of natural resources is indeed an important

key to understand one of the main reasons for the fi ght over

terminology.

I L L US T R AT ION / I NG A S Æ T R E

Oily WordsT E R E S A G R Ø TA N

E D I T O R, G L O B A L K N O W L E D G E

BRIEF REPORTS / 4

RESEARCH TOO CLOSELY LINKED TO OFFICIAL NORWEGIAN POLICY / 7

FROM PROFESSOR TO PRISONER / 8An academic imprisoned and tortured in the Congo

now teaches at university in the USA.

THE ISLAMIC SHADOW / 12An Iranian academic seeks freedom from an oppressive regime.

“HOW SINCERE ARE WE IN ALLOWING PLURALITY?” / 14The organisation Scholars at Risk promotes academic freedom

and helps persecuted scholars.

Ω WORLDS APART / 16Even though the Sami and the San have a lot in common, their worlds are

totally different.

Ω WHERE THE FIRST ARE THE LAST / 21Researchers in Botswana and Norway try to combine academically-sound

research with advocacy for the San people.

Ω BACK TO THE BOOKS / 26Ole Henrik Magga has spent the last 40 years advocating the rights of

indigenous people. Now the professor of linguistics returns to his books.

Ω FROM POLLUTION TO PROTECTION / 30Ecuador suggests protecting parts of Yasuní in the Amazon Basin from oil

extraction, and wants the rest of the world to shoulder some of the cost.

Ω THE TENDER TUNDRA / 36The Russian tundra is being destroyed by oil companies. Norwegian research-

ers cooperate with the indigenous Nenets people to document the destruction.

Ω WELCOMES THE OIL / 39A new research report state that as long as indigenous people

in Alaska, Russia, Norway and Canada are included in decision making,

they are not against oil extraction in the Artic.

Ω STRONG BACKING TO INDIGENOUS RIGHTS / 40The recently ratifi ed UN Declaration of the Rights of Indigenous Peoples

provides for collective rights unprecedented in human rights law,

according to researcher.

Ω THE POLITICS OF DEFINITION / 41A professor argues the term “indigenous” is racist, while an IWGIA

chairperson says it serves its political purpose.

Ω MINORITY REPORT / 44The Ainu are not recognised as indigenous and experience

discrimination in Japanese society.

Ω THE SECRETS OF THE CENOTES / 46Researches unravel the mysteries of the Mexican sinkholes called cenotes.

SAVING THE TREASURES OF TIMBUKTU / 48The rich manuscripts of Mali alter the image of an illiterate African continent.

FIRST BOOK ON POLITICS IN MALAWI / 53Research cooperation resulted in fi rst book on the nation’s

government and politics.

DANCING ZIMBABWE ONTO THE MAP / 54Learning to dance in a country falling apart.

Ω RESOURCE CONTROL IN NIGERIA’S NIGER DELTA / 58Academic essay on the reasons why oil has not

brought wealth to Nigeria’s people.

contents Global Knowledge 2/2007

CL OCK W ISE F ROM L E F T : The Sami and the San, p. 16 | The Timbuktu Manuscripts, p. 48| Kanako Uzawa and the Ainu of Japan, p. 44

Oil and the Tundra in Russia , p. 36| Modern Dance in Zimbabwe, p. 54

4 |

Research Across Boundaries

Global Knowledge is an interdisciplinary magazine

that off ers stories on political questions with global

impli cations in research and higher education. The

maga zine provides an international arena for debate,

and focuses on cooperation where partners have a

wide range of political, economic, cultural and/or

religi ous backgrounds.

Global Knowledge is aimed at academics, admini-

strators, policy-makers and others interested. The

inter views, feature articles and news items are pro-

duced by journalists and photographers from all

over the world. One academic essay will appear in

each issue.

Global Knowledge is published by the Norwegian

Centre for International Cooperation in Higher

Education (SIU), but the content is not limited to the

pro gram mes administered by SIU. The magazine

does not necessarily represent SIU’s offi cial view.

Global Knowledge is fi nanced by Norad, the

Ministry of Foreign Aff airs and the Ministry of Edu-

cation and Research.

Global Knowledge 2/2007

PU BL ISH E D November 2007

E DI T OR- I N - CH I E F Head of Information,

Hanne Alver Krum

E DI T OR Teresa Grøtan teresa.grotan@siu.no

A DV ISORY BOA R D Associate Professor Harald

Hornmoen, Norway, Researcher René Smith, South

Africa, Associate Professor Tom Skauge, Norway,

Researcher Džemal Sokolović, Norway/Bosnia-

Hercegovina, Professor James Tumwine, Uganda,

Vice-Rector Galina Komarova, Russia

COV E R PHO T O Fred Ivar Klemetsen

(Sami women in northern Norway)

L AY- OU T Øystein Vidnes

PROOF - R E A DE R Steve Hands

PR I N T E D BY Bryne Off set

CI RCU L AT ION 2100

I S S N 1504-7563

SI U, P.O. Box 7800,

NO–50 20 BERGE N, NORWAY

Material from Global Knowledge may be freely cited

provided that due acknowledgement of the source is

made and the editor informed.

Would you like to receive a free subscription

to Global Knowledge? Please log on to

www.siu.no/globalknowledge

Medical Peace

A N I N T E R NAT IONA L COOPE R AT I V E PROJ E C T called

Medical Peace Work (MPW) is meant to give health workers

the tools to promote peace, human rights and security.

MPW deals with the role and professional responsibility of

health workers in the prevention of violence and in sustainable

peace-building. The aim of MPW is to increase health workers’

awareness of their peace potential and to strengthen their con-

fl ict competence. The project involves both collecting avail-

able material and producing new teaching material online,

since there is very little relevant material and training available

today. The result of the project will include a multi-media dis-

tance learning course and a textbook on medical peace work.

The cooperating partners are drawn from medical peace prac-

titioners, peace and health researchers, teaching institutions,

and the end-users from various countries of the teaching and

training material.

MPW is part of the EU-funded Leonardo da Vinci pro-

gramme, and is administered by the Centre for International

Health at the University of Tromsø, Norway, and the

University Hospital North Norway. K T E / T G

www.medicalpeacework.org

Perceivable, Durable, Predictable

T H E NORW E GI A N Ministry of Foreign Aff airs’ appointed

work group has fi nished its work on developing a platform for

bilateral grants to higher education and research in countries

in the South. The group, drawing representatives from min-

istries, the SIU and the Norwegian Research Council (NCR)

among others, studied Norwegian bilateral support for higher

education and research, and also analysed future challenges

for this type of funding.

Concluding that more eff ort must be put into higher educa-

tion and research in development assistance, the work group

presented a number of suggestions for improvement. The

group stressed the importance that Norwegian support should

be perceived as long-term and dependable, in the sense that

eventual changes in priorities would come through growth,

and not through the reorganisation of limited funds.

Higher education and research should to a larger extent

than today be used as a tool to support the thematic priorities

in Norway’s development assistance. There should be an in-

creased focus on joint programmes between Norwegian insti-

tutions and institutions in the South, increased direct support to

institutions in the South, as well as more funds for researchers

from the South in general calls for applications to the NCR. J H

br i ef r ep ort s | 5

A N E W PRO GR A M M E for cooperation between Sudan

and Norway, named the Norwegian University Cooperation

Programme for Capacity Development in Sudan (NUCCOP),

was launched in the autumn of 2007. The fi rst fi nancial allo-

cation is due on 10 December this year, with NOK 65 million

allocated over a period of fi ve years.

The Norwegian Ministry of Foreign Aff airs wishes to

make use of Norwegian institutions’ knowledge and experi-

ence in order to support the peace agreement in Sudan and to

contri bute towards poverty reduction. Geographical priority

A S R E P ORT E D I N T H E L A S T IS SU E of Global Knowledge,

many patients with tuberculosis (TB) fi nd it diffi cult to com-

plete their assigned course of drug treatment. Researchers in

South Africa, Britain and Norway have conducted a study to

fi nd out why. The hope is that the results could help design

better medication regimes and patient support systems.

Up to half of all people with TB do not fi nish treatment,

for a wide range of reasons – fi nancial, personal and environ-

mental. Failure to complete the drug course may not only lead

to patients being infected longer, but also makes them more

likely to die or to become infected with drug-resistant TB, as

reported in the last issue of Global Knowledge.

The researchers found that some patients have diffi culty in

getting to health centres to take the drugs, some could not af-

ford them, others were afraid of being scolded by medical staff

for missing a dose, and many could not endure the perceived

prejudice of having TB or bear the drugs’ side eff ects, reports

Sci.Dev.net. There is a need to pay more attention to obstacles

to eff ective treatment such as poverty and discrimination. The

report recommends that future interventions should boost pa-

tient participation in the decisions made about their treatment.

The study, “Patient Adherence to Tuberculosis Treatment:

A Systematic Review of Qualitative Research” was published

in PLoS Medicine, 24 July 2007. T G

is given to southern Sudan, and cooperating institutions have

to commit themselves to long-term partnership.

NUCCOP aims to contribute to institutional and organi-

sational capacity development. Funding will be given to

Bachelor and Master’s degree studies, and to the development

of competence for research and research-based education in

Sudanese institutions.

The Norwegian Centre for International Cooperation in

Higher education (SIU) administers the programme on behalf

of Norad. BG / T G

NOK 65 Million to University Cooperation Between Sudan and Norway

Why They Don’t Take the Drugs

T H E DRUG S |

Many patients do not

follow their course

of treatment for

tuberculosis. Here

from the Tuberculosis

Dispensary in

Arkhangelsk, Russia.

Photo/Paul Sigve

Amundsen

6 | B R I E F R E P OR T S

Results from the Readers’ Survey

T H E F I R S T IS SU E of Global Knowledge was published in

November 2004. Since then, two yearly issues with special

topics such as democracy, the environment, human rights and

HIV and tuberculosis have been published. Subscribers in 85

countries have read articles from around 45 countries on all

continents.

In June and July this year, we asked our readers what they

thought about the magazine. We received 125 responses. Out

of these, 60 per cent were male, and close to 50 per cent were

academics. Over 60 per cent lived in Norway.

On average, the respondents gave a score of 5 on a scale

from 1 to 6 on how interesting they found the articles in the

magazine. Articles on policy issues related to higher educa-

tion and research, and feature articles got the highest score.

Close to 60 per cent read some or almost all articles. The same

percentage would like the geographical scope of the magazine

to include the whole world. More than 60 per cent shared their

copy with one or more persons.

Comments included: “A wonderful magazine that pro-

vides a fresh platform on a variety of timely and relevant is-

sues facing the world today.” “Nice design, high quality arti-

cles, many important and diff erent issues, Global Knowledge

helps me keep updated.” “Good articles in fi elds nobody else

covers.” However, readers also wrote “I dislike the ‘West is

best’ attitude of the publication” and “It is a secular mission-

ising magazine”.

We hope Global Knowledge will continue to engage our

readers! T G

USD Five Million to Iraqi Scientists Rescue Project

A N E S T I M AT E D 3 0 0 I R AQI AC A DE M IC S and clinicians

have been killed since the US invasion in 2003 , according to

SciDev.Net, with many more under constant threat.

USD fi ve million has been donated by the Bill and Melinda

Gates Foundation to fund a project to support and protect

Iraqi scientists at risk. This amount matches a contribu-

tion which has already been approved by the United States

Congress.

The Iraqi Scholar Rescue Project will help evacuate threat-

ened scientists and set up and fund teaching and research posi-

tions at institutions in the Middle East and North Africa. The

project is set to begin in the autumn of 2007, with Jordan to

receive the fi rst scientists. J H

Editor’s NoteIn the last issue of Global Knowledge, the African Languages

Lexical Project (ALLEX), a cooperative project between the

University of Oslo and the University of Zimbabwe, was re-

ported on. However, in the article from Zimbabwe, research-

ers other than those involved in this specifi c project were inter-

viewed. Even though their views were relevant to the article, it

should have been explicitly stated that they were not part of

the A L L E X project. We apologise for the inaccuracy. T G

P OSI T I V E R E SP ONSE | On average, the readers of

Global Knowledge give a score of 5 on a scale from 1 to 6 on

how interesting they fi nd the articles.

DE V E L O P M E N T R E S E A RC H | 7

T H E E VA LUAT ION , published in August 2007, was per-

formed by an international committee and initiated by the

Research Council of Norway (RCN).

The total volume of Norwegian development research

is large. The publications reviewed in the evaluation score

quite high on originality, solidity and scholarly relevance.

Norwegian development researchers excel in research on

human rights, armed confl ict, the displacement of people

and natural resource issues. The committee also notes that

individual researchers in anthropology, economics and po-

litical science have brought the country international recog-

nition. Development research in Norway has relevance for

Norwegian policy, as well as for civil society and developing

countries.

However, the evaluation found that researchers are too

dependent on their funding sources: “Direct funding (com-

missions) entails a high degree of dependence, formally and

informally.” So for research that is touted as “independent”,

the report states that “conclusions that are at cross with the

offi cial policy preferences, or that are too bold and revealing

as to political processes, might be subdued or delivered with

an uneasy eye to future funding.”

The committee recommends that the role of government

offi cials on the programme boards of RCN should be recon-

sidered: “RCN procedures and structures also seem to lack

transparency and legitimacy.” The commission expressed

reservations regarding “the ability to ensure that quality is the

prime criterion in RCN grant selection procedures”.

Norwegian development research is well-funded and ad-

equately staff ed. However, the evaluation committee recom-

mends that more independent research, and more long-term

funding, be initiated. A larger share of resources should be

allocated solely on the basis of academic quality. “Norwegian

development research needs to loosen its close association

with Norwegian development policy and to be free to redefi ne

development research to be more in tune with the larger is-

sues of globalisation and sustainable development,” the com-

mittee states.

The data for the evaluation included a review of selected

publications, citation analysis, interviews with selected users

and researchers, and self-assessment reports from 28 research

units.

The full report is available at www.forskningsradet.no

Research Too Closely Linked to Offi cial Norwegian PolicyIn a recent evaluation Norwegian development research was found to be too closely linked with its sources of funding as well as to Norwegian offi cial policy.

teresa grøtan/text and photo

T O O P OL I T IC A L | Norwegian development research is too

closely linked with its sources of funding. Here from the labora-

tory at the University of Malawi.

8 |

I M PR I SON E D I N K I NSH A SA ,

the capitol of the Democratic

Republic of the Congo, his skin

had taken on a green hue from

starvation and his blood pres-

sure was dangerously low. Blisters that had formed in the back

of his throat from dehydration made it diffi cult to swallow.

Distraught, hungry and panic-stricken, but most importantly

innocent, this accomplished and admired professor was ac-

cused of endangering national security and consequently im-

prisoned under abysmal conditions.

Today, Professor Kaputu is a visiting assistant professor

of literature at Purchase, State University of New York, af-

ter spending last year as a resident research scholar at the Du

Bois Institute for African and African American Studies at

Harvard.

His lips are curled up in a careful, almost shy smile, but his

eyes speak of suff ering and loss. While he is safe in the US

thanks to academic and fi nancial assistance from the New

York Institute of International Education and the guidance

of the Scholars at Risk (SAR), he is still working on coming

to terms with what happened in Lubumbashi on a beautiful

spring day in April 2005.

A TREACHEROUS MEETING

Born in the south of the Congo, Kaputu was raised in a coun-

try that, not unlike many countries in Africa, still suff ers from

the backlash from colonialism.

More than ten million people are

estimated to have died during the

brutally exploitative reign of King

Leopold II of Belgium, part of a cen-

tury of Belgian rule. The Congo was never able to establish

a stable government after the Belgians abruptly withdrew in

1960. The elected Prime Minister Patrice Lumumba was over-

thrown that same year with US and European support for a

cold war ally, Mobutu Sese Seko. Since then there have been

many bloody internal confl icts in the Congo, which eventually

culminated in a civil war that lasted four years and took more

than four million lives.

Child soldiers make up ten percent of the army. Violence

against women, including rape and forced sexual slavery, con-

tinues to soar and more than one thousand people die every

day from starvation and lawlessness. As Kaputu learned fi rst

hand, members of the security forces are often poorly trained

and paid, and commit serious human rights abuses.

While at Lubumbashi University, Kaputu was working

as an associate professor of literature when the Director of

Provincial Security requested a meeting one April morning in

2005.

“This was not unusual and I suspected no danger,” Kaputu

said. He was often called in to cooperate and assist in mat-

ters of state in conjunction with his research. “I was actually

excited that the director was interested in my work,” Kaputu

added.

But the meeting was anything but cordial. Kaputu was in-

terrogated by a general and accused of having bought and

smuggled weapons while attending a conference on religion

and gender diff erences in Japan. The general further insisted

The general insisted Kaputu was acting as the mastermind of a 20 000-man rebel army

that intended to declare independence for the province of Katanga.

From Professor to PrisonerTwo years ago, Professor Felix Ulombe Kaputu’s only company was the rats in his cell, fat from feasting on rotting corpses.

marianne onsrud jawanda / text

emmanuelle francoy / photos

new york, usa

L A S T I NG L OV E | Even though there is a looming death sen-

tence for Professor Felix Ulombe Kaputu’s life, he still longs for

the green hills of his homeland. “I can think of nothing else but

going back to the Congo,” he said.

AC A DE M IC I N T H E C ONG O | 9

10 | AC A DE M IC I N T H E C ONG O

Kaputu was acting as the mastermind of a 20 000-man rebel

army that intended to declare independence for the province

of Katanga.

Kaputu had bought nothing more than a karate suit and a

couple of books in Japan and was baff led by what he was hear-

ing. “The claim was so absurd, I did not know how to react,” he

recalled.

Kaputu then overheard the general telling some of the

guards, “You have to really make him suff er – and don’t worry

if he dies. He’s of no use to the president.”

ABYSMAL CONDITIONS

The morning of his capture, Kaputu had woken up at home

as a distinguished professor – by day’s end, he was a prisoner

in a small, dark, fl ea-infested holding

cell. It would be months before his

wife and three daughters would know

of his whereabouts and suddenly

pani c set in.

“I was convinced that this was it. But the next day I was at

peace and ready for whatever would happen.”

Kaputu suff ers from high blood pressure and was not only

deprived of food, water and communication with the outside

world, he was also denied medical care. “We were given a plas-

tic bottle to urinate in, but after days without water that need

vanished,” he said.

The day he was imprisoned more than 60 men, doctors,

leaders of opposition parties, military leaders and the son of a

previous prime minister joined him in jail. They were illegally

detained incommunicado for two weeks in Lubumbashi. Two

weeks later, on 17 May 2005, 15 of the most high profi le prison-

ers were transferred to the Makala central prison in Kinshasa.

“Here you are no longer a professor,” warned the prison

warden when Kaputu arrived. “I am putting you in a cell re-

served only for the most dangerous criminals,” he spat and

slammed the heavy metal door shut behind Kaputu.

The conditions in the prison were abysmal. The stench

from rotting corpses lingered in the small room with no light

and no ceiling. During a storm the roof had blown off , allow-

ing rainwater to collect in putrid puddles on the fl oor. When

family members came to visit the prisoners, the guards would

advise them not to waste their money.

“Once he is in here he is already dead,” they told them.

Prisoners had been detained, forgotten about and left to die in

these cells before.

ANYTHING BUT FORGOTTEN

On the outside, however, Kaputu was anything but forgotten.

On 26 May, Amnesty International issued a “Torture and ill-

treatment/medical concern” based on the illegal imprison-

ment. Human right groups and colleagues around the world

lobbied tirelessly for Kaputu’s release. But it was one jour-

nalist in particular, Ghislaine Dupont, reporting for Radio

France Internationale, who ensured that the pressure on the

government was constant. She was relentless in her quest for

answers. Where were the weapons? The soldiers? The train-

ing camps? Dupont’s reporting, coupled with pressure from

Amnesty and other human rights advocates pressured the

Congolese government into releasing Kaputu.

After more than four months in prison, Kaputu was freed

and he returned to work the following day. However, his excite-

ment at the prospect of teaching again waned quickly when he

noticed there were soldiers outside the lecture hall guarding

the door. It became clear that he would never again be free to

teach and continue his research

under this administration. The

northern province of the Congo

was intent on getting rid of in-

tellectuals from the south and

replacing academics with their own appointments. Kaputu

suspected that the reason he was incarcerated in the fi rst place

was because of his close affi liation with the former president

of Lubumbashi University who was an opposition member

of the rebel organization, Rally for Congolese Democracy.

Kaputu later assisted with his escape to Belgium; an act that

resulted in Kaputu’s death warrant in the Congo.

News of professors, activists and journalists who just “hap-

pened to disappear” were all too common. Now, more than

ever, his life was in danger. He made sure to always be accom-

panied by students when in public and took to never sleeping

in the same place two nights in row. “Once you are accused,

it’s forever,” Kaputu said.

He needed to leave. Through contacts at the American

Embassy in Kinshasa, Kaputu managed to get a visa before he

escaped to the US via South Africa. Later he was informed that

the offi cial who gave him the exit stamp from the Congo was

imprisoned for letting him leave the country. Once in the US, a

colleague at the university referred Kaputu to Scholars at Risk.

SILENCING SCHOLARS

“I am not a politician, I am a university professor, that is

enough in a human life,” Kaputu said. His hope is that intellec-

tuals and scholars can one day cooperate with the government

on improving the situation in the Congo. But currently, the

authorities seem intent on silencing scholars, intellectuals and

political opponents. Kaputu, rather than succumbing to self-

censorship like so many of his colleagues, insisted on teaching

his students how to think critically, strive for truth and achieve

gender equality.

“I grew up in a poor family and I have worked very hard to

The Congolese authorities seem intent on silencing scholars, intellectuals and political

opponents.

AC A DE M IC I N T H E C ONG O | 1 1

get this far,” Kaputu continued, stressing the word “very” and

pausing for a second. He turned around and glanced at the

bookshelf on the wall in his offi ce, bursting with books on my-

thology and the history and people of the Congo. “I could have

left but I decided not to,” Kaputu said, almost inaudibly and

added, “In fact, my interest in the Congo can not just be extin-

guished, it is a part of my life.”

Kaputu is not only grieving the loss of his motherland, he

is also fi lled with worry about the safety of his wife and three

daughters who are still in the Congo. Because of him, they are un-

der surveillance at all times. Kaputu has not seen them since the

morning of his arrest and he never got to say goodbye to his de-

ceased mother who suff ered a stroke on the day he was arrested.

It looks like Kaputu is in the US to stay, at least for a while.

Purchase College is prepared to assist in any way it can. For

now Kaputu has to live in the moment and take every day as it

comes. While he takes great joy in teaching, his wounds from

the time spent in prison have not yet healed. With a death

warrant looming in the Congo, it would not be safe for him to

return.

He still feels threatened, even in the US.

“I very much panicked,” Kaputu said after attending a confer-

ence in Manhattan recently.

The Congolese government delegation was in the same city.

“I did my best to avoid members from the delegation; I am not

ready to face them,” Kaputu explained.

He knows he has no choice but to stay in the US, even

though all he can think about is going back to the Congo.

“It was not easy to accept this,” Kaputu said, and added

softly, “But, you know I am lucky to have learned so much

from this suff ering.” GK

Marianne Onsrud Jawanda is the Norwegian editor-in-chief

for the Norway Times, based in Pelham, New York.

Emmanuelle Françoy is a French photographer and artist,

based in Pelham, New York.

F R E E AT L A S T | Professor Felix Kaputu was

wrongly imprisoned by the Congolese govern-

ment and spent months in a fl ea-infested prison

cell. Thanks to tireless efforts from Amnesty

International, a relentless reporter and other human

rights activists, Kaputu was freed and is today work-

ing as an assistant professor of literature at Purchase,

State University of New York.

• He received his Master’s of Arts degree in Ugaritic and Middle Eastern Mythology from the University of Lubumbashi where he was awarded his PhD. in 2000, specializing in gender issues, religion, and university pedagogy.

• His research has concentrated on gender issues and the impact of religion, particularly in Central Africa.

• Kaputu is the recipient of international grants and awards from the Belgian CIUF-CUD (2001, 2005), the International Association of Oral History (2002), Fulbright (2003), the Japanese Foundation (2005), and the International Association for the Study of Religion (2005).

PROFESSOR FELIX ULOMBE KAPUTU

1 2 | AC A DE M IC I N I R A N

The Islamic ShadowAs an academic in Iran, one has to choose: either teach and publish the way the clergy see fi t – or leave the country.

teresa grøtan/text and photo

malmö, sweden

SOCIOL O GIS T A N D A S Y LU M - SE E K E R Ali Tayefi chose

the latter. “I left my identity. I lost my life and my family.”

He has been in Sweden for the past four years. He hopes he

can stay on, or go somewhere else that’s safe. He does not want

to go back to Iran, because he is afraid he will be put in jail.

Swedish authorities are not of the same opinion, and Tayefi is

presently an illegal immigrant in Sweden. “The Swedish judge

asked me: ‘Why did you write something critical when you

knew it was forbidden?’” Ali laughs dryly.

“I must follow my conscience and my heart. I have an obli-

gation to my society.”

Recently he got in touch with Scholars at Risk, which is try-

ing to help him to the USA. So is the American president of

the organisation Sociologists Without Borders. But there are

some serious obstacles, not least of which is that his passport

has been confi scated.

Ali Tayefi seems disillusioned. He has not seen his two

children, now aged ten and 12, for four

years. He does not speak much Swedish.

Instead he is absorbed in Iranian aca-

demic life: Tayefi is the president of the

Iranian branch of Sociologists Without

Borders and runs two blogs about the situation in Iran.

LIVE TWO LIVES

The most recent protest against the Iranian regime oc-

curred in October this year, as the Iranian leader Mahmoud

Ahmadinejad presided over the ceremony opening the new ac-

ademic year at the University of Tehran. Students called him a

“dictator” and chanted “Death to the dictator!” They also pro-

tested against the imprisonment of student leaders. Only last

year two students died in Iranian prisons.

According to Ali Tayefi , the fundamentalists in Iran

want an Islamisation of the universities. They spread a dark

shadow over the academic institutions and try to restrict

academic freedom. “The academics have to assimilate to

survive. Many try to teach secularism and democracy to their

students in secret. In class they teach the way the clergy see

fi t, but in their free time they fi nd other ways to meet and talk

to the students.”

As a student, Tayefi was an active leader in demonstrations

against the regime. Tayefi is a sociologist, but was never able

to fi nish his PhD. His articles have been censored. Of the fi ve

books he has written, four are banned. Newspapers and maga-

zines he contributed to have been closed down. He has never

been able to get a permanent job. “I have encountered so many

restrictions,” he says. For Tayefi it is clear this is because of his

engagement in socio-cultural and political issues in Iran.

In 2003 the climate in Iran became increasingly hostile

and oppressive and he left, after having been in Sweden and

Germany to speak about the situation back

home. Three months after his departure,

the two people he travelled with, a profes-

sor at the University of Tehran and a jour-

nalist, were arrested. One of them now lives

in exile in the USA and the other has “adapted” to the system.

Ali Tayefi is tired of being suspected of coming to Sweden

for the money. “I do not have an economic problem. I have an

ideological problem with the Islamic regime.”

It is freedom that he seeks. Freedom to express what he be-

lieves is right. Freedom to publish results from his research on

the social situation in Iran. Tayefi has done studies on prosti-

tution, on street children, on violence against women and on

the brain drain; there are 5000 Iranian professors in the USA

and Canada, yet only 1800 in the whole of Iran.

He characterises the oppression of academics, journalists

“History proves that science will win in the confrontation between

science and religion.”

AC A DE M IC I N I R A N | 1 3

and writers as a form of torture. “When you cannot speak

publicly about your fi eld of study or publish you ideas, you are

being tortured,” Tayefi says.

POLITICAL FILTER

After the revolution in Iran in 1979, the universities were closed

for three years, during which time all academics that did not

agree with the revolution were dismissed. Many went to the

USA or to Europe. According to Tayefi , there is a political fi l-

ter for all people who seek a job in academia in Iran. “You are

questioned about everything: your political ideas, your family,

your opinion on Islam, your ethics, morals, your background

in education and work and so on.” If your answers are not in

accordance with Islamic ideology, you will not get the job.

Scholars continue to be pensioned off if they are found to

have un-Islamic views. The Islamic theocracy is trying to im-

pose its worldview on academia. According to Tayefi , the cler-

gy, who also are in charge at the universities, believe all new

science is Westernized. The intelligence apparatus, which is

large and powerful in society at large, is particularly active in

the universities: “The clergy do not trust the academics. They

are prejudiced,” Tayefi says.

Ali Tayefi is sure the political climate will change in Iran.

Eventually. “History proves that science will win in the con-

frontation between science and religion. The religious way of

thinking cannot survive in academia.” And he believes in the

new generation: “Many young people have a new vision and

are in confl ict with the old men who are in control of society.

The young people today live with so many restrictions. Many

do not understand the revolution; they do not want Islamic

thought,” Tayefi says. “They have new ideas about equality and

social justice. The system cannot control all ideas and record

all activities. This is my hope.” GK

U N - ISL A M IC S TAT IS T IC S | Sociologist Ali Tayefi could not live in the oppressive academic environment in Iran. “I could not publish a

book on the brain drain. I asked my publisher why. He asked the Ministry of Culture. They just said that it was un-Islamic. Everything must

be drawn from the Koran.”

1 4 | S C HOL A R S AT R I S K

“I N A SE NSE the threatened scholars

make up a micro-cosmos. They are pieces

in a larger game where organised forces

are trying to monopolise knowledge and where the forces of

pluralism will organise a reply. The latter is more diffi cult, be-

cause you have to cooperate even with people you disagree with.

The underlying questions are: How sincere are we in allowing

plurality? And to what lengths are the oppressors willing to go

in order to suppress ideas?”

MAGICAL OPPORTUNITY

SAR, established in 2000, brings together about 150 universi-

ties worldwide, most of them in the USA. More than 1500 schol-

ars from 110 countries have asked for help, and to date SAR has

been able to assist 200 of them, off ering them temporary aca-

demic positions at Western institutions.

“We do matchmaking. First and foremost it is about identi-

fying scholars suff ering physical threats or extreme harassment.

Next step is to bring them to a safe country. Then we try to off er

them relevant work. These are very brave scholars: they speak

up, unlike most of us. Most of the scholars we approach have

been nominated by NGOs, human rights organisations or fel-

low scholars,” Quinn says.

The idea is that the academics contribute

to their host campuses through teaching,

research, lectures and other activities. And

that they return to their home countries when it is safe to do so.

“I think ten years is the correct measure of return, although

we do see people going back after fi ve years. Iraq is a special

case, of course. By and large the scholars fresh from their home

countries are not ready to jump into full-time teaching. But

they can start off ering guest lectures, gradually off ering more

classes.”

In general, salary is off ered by the host institution. The legal

status of the scholars concerned may diff er. Some are refugees,

others are temporary visitors.

“As host institution you don’t have to do everything for the

scholar. Just tell us what you can do and then we will fi gure

out something. That is the way this network has survived and

expanded,” Quinn explains, emphasising that the benefi ts for

both parties are clear. Scholars are free to live and work without

fear, and SAR members get talented and inspiring educators in

return.

“It’s a benefi t just standing with other institutions saying:

‘Scholars and universities should not be attacked for merely do-

ing their job.’ Hosting a scholar is a magical opportunity to ex-

“How sincere are we in allowing plurality?”Ideas still have the power to change society, according to Robert Quinn, the executive director of Scholars at Risk (sar). sar pro-motes academic freedom and defends threatened scholars and academic communities worldwide.

runo isaksen/text and photo

trondheim, norway

“These are very brave scholars: They speak up, unlike most of us.”

S C HOL A R S AT R I S K | 15

pose one’s community to the essence of academic life, remind-

ing us what it is all about,” says Quinn, who recently visited

Norway to enlist more Norwegian scholars and institutions. So

far, the University of Oslo is the only Norwegian member of

SAR.

FREEDOM AND DIALOGUE

Hosting threatened scholars is but one of the activities carried

out by SAR.

“There are three tracks, of which hosting threatened schol-

ars is one. But hosting a scholar does not help much if we are

not able to strengthen the universities, too, and their place in

society. This, then, is the second track: engaging faculties in

setting up training workshops, notably in developing countries,

to make them defenders of academic freedom and dialogue. We

hope to see a snowball eff ect,” Quinn says.

A third track is research. SAR is currently conducting a sur-

vey asking questions such as: What are the core elements of a

university? What is academic freedom? What means are avail-

able for responding to threats to universities?

“The problem is that this territory is so poorly mapped. In a

sense we contribute to setting up a new subfi eld of study: aca-

demic freedom studies. For let us face it: there might very well

• The Scholars at Risk Network (sar) is an international network of universities and university colleges working to promote academic freedom and to defend threatened scholars and scholarly communities worldwide.

• Membership is open to accredited higher education institutions in any country committed to the principle that scholars should be free to work without fear or intimidation.

• sar organises lectures, conferences and public education events and undertakes research and advocacy.

• Financially, sar is sponsored by a variety of trusts and foundations, including the Sigrid Rausing Trust, the Arcadia Trust and the Open Society Institute.

• Currently the sar secretariat consists of three full-time employees in offi ces at New York University.

SCHOLARS AT RISK

M AGIC A L OPP ORT U N I T Y | Hosting a scholar is a magical

opportunity to expose one’s community to the essence of academic

life, according to Robert Quinn, executive director of SAR.

be gaps even between the two of us as to the exact meaning of,

say, academic freedom,” Quinn says, admitting that it is crucial

to feel the way carefully and to build a dialogue aimed at devel-

oping shared understanding.

“There are many landmines: for example religious universi-

ties versus secular, private versus public, and so on. I think the

network, by virtue of our experience with scholars in over 100

countries, can off er some framework for approaching these dif-

fi cult questions. Of course advocating academic freedom will

be a never-ending process.”

To Robert Quinn personally, interaction with the scholars

who are willing to speak up in the face of oppression and the

staff going out of their way to help these scholars have been the

most interesting aspects of this work.

“In essence it is a wonderful look at humanity. So if you ask

me, why bother? I will say: because not to bother will have

devastating consequences in the long run. The tension is there

not only in Iraq or Afghanistan, but also in Europe and the US.

Again: how sincere are we in allowing plurality?” GK

Runo Isaksen is an information adviser at SIU.

read more:

www.scholarsatrisk.nyu.edu

16 |

A SH Y SM I L E | Two San children in Namibia pull a blanket around them to keep out the early morning cold.

| 1 7

Worlds ApartSami and San: a common history of eviction, discrimination and forced assimilation. Similar-sized populations, spread over the same number of countries – one a people of the far north and one a people of the far south.

teresa grøtan/text

fred ivar klemetsen/sami photos

paul weinberg, panos pictures/

san photos

botswana/norway

1 8 | I N DIG E NOUS P E OP L E S Ω A DVO C AC Y V E R S U S AC A DE M I A

T ODAY T H E I R SI T UAT IONS are totally diff erent. Whilst

the Sami have their own parliament, own the area they have

traditionally inhabited and the Norwegian state is obliged to

follow international conventions concerning indigenous peo-

ples, the San are not recognised as an indigenous people and

have no special rights to the land they have traditionally lived

on. They have no laws protecting their language, traditions

or culture.

The San, also known as Bushmen, Basarwa and Khoesan,

are spread across South Africa, Botswana, Namibia and

Angola in southern Africa. The Sami inhabit four countries in

Northern Europe: Norway, Sweden, Finland and Russia. Out

of approximately 85 000 San, half live in Botswana. Out of the

same number of Sami, half live in Norway. There are several

diff erent San languages, as there are many variants of the Sami

language.

Whilst the Sami have lived in Northern Europe for 2500

years, the San have inhabited Southern Africa as far back as

archaeological records go, making the San today the most di-

rect descendants of the oldest known population of modern

humans. This is why they also are known as the First People.

There is a long history of contact between the Sami and the

San. The Sami Council fi rst expressed their concern for the

situation of the San people in the 1960s, and development as-

sistance to the San from Norway has been channelled though

the Sami Council. The two peoples have made many visits to

each other, the most recent in 2006 when a San delegation at-

tended the Sami Council’s 50th anniversary celebrations.

A BOV E : COU PL E 1 | A Sami couple by their kitchen table.

R IGH T: COU PL E 1 1 | A San couple near their home close to the Kalahari Gemsbok Park in South Africa.

2 0 | I N DIG E NOUS P E OP L E S Ω A DVO C AC Y V E R S U S AC A DE M I A

E V E RY DAY L I F E I | Inga takes an afternoon nap in her home.

Historically, Norway tried to assimilate Sami culture and lan-

guage into Norwegian traditions and way of life, and children

where not allowed to speak their mother tongue in schools. During

the Second World War, literally all of the county of Finnmark was

burnt down, and left hardly any traces of Sami culture. After the

war, the Norwegian authorities relaxed the assimilation process

of the Sami, but it was not until 1979, with the so-called Alta case,

that the Sami insisted on their rights as an indigenous people. In

1986 a national fl ag and anthem were created and in 1989 the

fi rst Sami parliament was elected. In 2005 the Finnmark Act was

passed, declaring that the area of Finnmark belongs to the people

who live there, both Sami and Norwegian, and not to the state.

E V E RY DAY L I F E I I | Toma holds a mirror to check his hair.

His wife pours out the water from the morning wash. San peoples

have lived in the Kalahari desert for thousands of years. In 1961

a large part of the desert located in Botswana became a na-

tional park named the Central Kalahari Game Reserve. After

Independence in 1966 the Botswana government decided that

the San had to be relocated, so that they could be assimilated into

modern Botswana life. The relocation process started in 1997.

Settlements were established just outside the game reserve and

in 2002 water and other basic services were withdrawn inside the

reserve. In December 2006, after a court case that lasted for years,

the San eventually won the right to stay in their traditional lands.

But only a few have returned, as the government does not provide

transport, and has closed all the previous wells.

I N DIG E NOUS P E OP L E S Ω A DVO C AC Y V E R S U S AC A DE M I A | 2 1

Where the First are the LastIs it possible to combine academically sound research with advocacy?

T H E A NS W E R IS Y E S , according to Norwegian and Bots-

wana researchers cooperating on a programme to promote re-

search on and by the indigenous San people in Bots wana. But

they face great challenges.

The very justifi cation of the programme is continually ques-

tioned – by the authorities, the general public and even within

the academic community in Botswana.

“The Botswana government is insistent that all Batswana

are indigenous. There is no need to specifi cally address the situ-

ation of the San,” says Dr. Maitseo Bolaane, Botswana coordi-

nator of the programme funded by the Norwegian Programme

for Development, Research and Education (NUFU). The pro-

gramme, colloquially called UBTromso, is the only unit in the

country that publicly recognises the San as an indigenous people.

2 2 | I N DIG E NOUS P E OP L E S Ω A DVO C AC Y V E R S U S AC A DE M I A

LEVELS OF POLITICS

“You have to be engaged,” says Norwegian coordinator and

professor at the University of Tromsø, Sidsel Saugestad. “But

you can talk politics on many levels. You have to keep your role

as an academic separate from that of the activist.

“We have all tried to fi nd the right level of advocacy in the

programme. Sometimes we speak on behalf of the programme

and at other times as private individuals. The challenge lies in

being convincing also according to academic criteria,” says

Professor Saugestad.

The situation for the Norwegian academic is somewhat dif-

ferent than that of her Botswana partner:

“It is a very diffi cult position for me to be

both a citizen and an academic speaking

within the Botswana environment,” Dr.

Bolaane says. “If you push your opinion,

you are likely to alienate yourself from

other academics who will question your credibility. At the

same time, to do research on the San you have to be conscious

of what is going on – and then you just see the advocacy coming

out.”

The San are among the most researched peoples of the

world. Saugestad believes it should be the responsibility of the

researchers to consider the utility of their research and how it

can benefi t indigenous people: “The more visible and involved

you are in advocacy, the greater responsibility you have to also

consider how your research can contribute to San develop-

ment. This is a position that is far more political in Botswana

than it is in Norway.”

ACCUSED OF RACISM

The research group has been accused of racism because it

off ers scholarships to San who wish to pursue Master’s and

PhD-degrees.

“Reconciliation and restitution are not concepts used in

Botswana. The authorities insist that the

system is non-discriminatory, and claim

that everybody in Botswana has equal op-

portunities,” says Saugestad. The govern-

ment’s reasoning is that in a country of

only 1.7 million people it is important to

avoid dividing the nation. The great fear is creating a situation

like Rwanda.

The Botswana government does acknowledge the San as

a marginalised group, along with other marginalised com-

munities in the country. The Remote Area Development

Programme is designed to address the social welfare of people

living in remote areas. Dr. Maitseo Bolaane says that the gov-

L E F T: VA N I SH I NG T R A DI T ION I| There are hardly any San left who live as traditional hunter-gatherers.

R IGH T: VA N I SH I NG T R A DI T ION I I| Only Sami are permitted to practice reindeer husbandry in Norway, and today there are only

2800 reindeer herders. The general consensus is that there are too many reindeer on the plains of Finnmark.

The research group has been ac-cused of racism because it offers scholarships to San who wish to

pursue Master’s and PhD-degrees.

I N DIG E NOUS P E OP L E S Ω A DVO C AC Y V E R S U S AC A DE M I A | 2 3

ernment has done its best to promote local

development strategies through this pro-

gramme. Still, the majority of the San are

left out. While the government insists on

treating everybody “equally”, Bolaane argues that this strat-

egy contributes instead to inequality.

“Why is it that when you go to remote areas that are pre-

dominantly San, many people still live in poverty and their

quality of life continues to deteriorate? Why are so many

young San school dropouts when Botswana has otherwise

done so well in the fi eld of education? Why is it that at the

university you still cannot identify many young San? We

should fi nd out why.”

In the beginning of the programme in 1996, the focus was

research on the San. This has slowly changed to research with

and by the San, as well as support for San students to access

higher education. The programme has addressed issues of

San language, ecotourism, archaeology and settlement his-

tory, ethnicity, gender, democracy, education and identity.

One of the most important ways of promoting advocacy

has been through actively documenting the situation of the

San both in scientifi c journals and in the general media. The

researchers are also in dialogue with government bodies to

advocate better development policies. During a recent court

case between the San and the state of

Botswana, known as the Central Kalahari

Game Reserve (CKGR) case, the research

group did not take a public stand in the

media, but chose to rather document the case and publish this

documentation.

LACK OF CRITICAL MASS

The NUFU-programme is in its last two years of fi nancial sup-

port. The plan is that the University of Botswana will take over

the running of the programme.

Both Saugestad and Bolaane characterise the project as

fairly successful – young San from Botswana, Namibia and

South Africa have gone on to further education. The research-

ers have participated in many conferences and published wide-

ly. Still, Saugestad is somewhat cautious about the immediate

future for the programme, wondering if a suffi cient ‘critical

mass’ has yet developed. While the recruitment of researchers

in fi elds like language and literature has been good, it has been

almost impossible in other crucial fi elds, like law. One reason

is the low prestige of this fi eld of study. “At any American uni-

versity it would automatically be considered prestigious for a

social anthropologist to study the San. It is seen as a classical

fi eld of study,” Saugestad says. But in Botswana San studies

L E F T: AT PL AY I | Young Sami play football outside their homes, the traditional Sami tents called lavvo. The lavvo are only used during

the seasonal migration of the reindeer herds, to their winter and summer feeding areas.

R IGH T: AT PL AY I I | Young San children in Botswana dance. The San of southern Africa have the lowest socio-economic indicators

of any southern African population. Children have the highest rate of school dropouts, and very few complete higher education compared

with the rest of the population.

“Inherent in the academic ideal is that nobody has a monopoly

on the truth.”

2 4 | I N DIG E NOUS P E OP L E S Ω A DVO C AC Y V E R S U S AC A DE M I A

– and advocacy – is a controversial, ‘no-go’ area. “I see politi-

cal scientists advocating in many areas, but I have noticed that

they are very reluctant to take on San issues. Why do they feel

free on almost any other aspect of social development, but not

this one?” Bolaane asks.

She illustrates how sensitive the San issue is by telling

about a conference she recently attended in Norway. She

spoke about the collaborative research project and was ver-

bally attacked by a Batswana medical

student in the audience. He felt that

Bolaane was damaging the image of

Botswana. “I want to feel free to exer-

cise my views as an academic,” Bolaane says. Saugestad adds:

“Inherent in the academic ideal is that nobody has a monopoly

on the truth. Any form of monopoly is detrimental to intellec-

tual freedom.”

A CENTRE FOR SAN STUDIES

The Norwegian authorities have taken quite the opposite

approach to that of Botswana. One of the reasons for estab-

lishing the University of Tromsø in 1968 was the need to pay

special attention to Sami issues. The Centre for Sami Studies

was established in 1990. Saugestad took part in promoting the

concept at the University of Tromsø, and has seen the develop-

ment from research on the Sami to research by the Sami. In

Botswana, Bolaane and her colleagues work

on establishing a research centre for the San,

partly inspired by the Centre for Sami Studies.

The road is long and winding, but Dr. Bolaane

hopes that during 2008 “the process will advance”.

The Norwegian Sami enjoy a status that is superior to

maybe any other indigenous people in the world. “Education

is one reason,” says Saugestad. “Many of the fi rst Sami leaders

went to teacher training colleges and managed to make their

CE R E MON Y I | San in Namibia perform a trance dance. The rhythmical beating of the drums, clapping and dancing enables them to

enter into a trance.

In Botswana San studies – and advocacy – is a controversial,

‘no-go’ area.

I N DIG E NOUS P E OP L E S Ω A DVO C AC Y V E R S U S AC A DE M I A | 25

way through the educational system without losing their cul-

tural identity. There were enough educated Sami to establish a

critical mass. Secondly, they have had good leaders. And third-

ly, their economy has been strong enough to participate in in-

ternational networking. The Sami are seen as a role model by

many indigenous peoples in Africa.”

The prospects in Botswana for the San are not necessar-

ily only bleak. In the last couple of years much attention has

been drawn to the San case, both in national and international

media, because of the CKGR court case, where the San won

against the Botswana state on some counts.

“People are beginning to understand that there are San in

the country who want to have their voices heard,” Bolaane

says. “The young San are starting to feel free to express them-

selves. This has never happened before.” GK

read more:

S. Willet, et al. (2002 and 2003): The Khoe and San Annotated Bibliography, volumes 1 and 2, Gaborone: Lightbooks

2001 and 2006: Two special issues of Pula: Botswana Journal of African Studies, published by the University of Botswana

Dictionaries in three Khoesan languages: Naro, Khoekhoegowab and !Xoo

Fred Ivar Utsi Klemetsen, himself Sami, has photographed tra-

ditional Sami life for the past 17 years. He has now expanded his

project to include documentaries about other indigenous peoples,

notably the Inuit of Alaska and the Ainu of Japan. He has also

photographed the Sami of Russia.

Paul Weinberg is a freelance documentary photographer based in

Durban, South Africa. He has for more than 20 years document-

ed San traditional and modern life in Botswana, South Africa

and Namibia and has published two books about the San.

CE R E MON Y I I | Anna and Per received 35 reindeer as wedding gifts on their marriage in 2003. One thousand two hundred people

attended their wedding reception.

26 |

I N DIG E NOUS P E OP L E S Ω OL E H E N R I K M AG G A | 2 7

A UN CONFERENCE on the en-

vironment was held in Tromsø in

northern Norway on 6 June. The

focus of the conference was cli-

mate change, and many critical reports were presented dealing

with the threat to seals and polar bears. But for participant Ole

Henrik Magga what the conference lacked was a discussion of

the conditions for humans in the far north. The Inuit in Alaska

and Greenland, reindeer herders in Sápmi (Samiland) and the

Nenets in Russia have already been hit by rising temperatures.

“I could not be silent,” said Magga, after the Tromsø en-

counter. Since childhood, when Professor Magga worked

together with his grandparents, fi shing in the lakes and tak-

ing care of a reindeer herd out on the duoddar (tundra), he has

been a keen student of nature and observed the changes in lo-

cal fl ora and fauna.

As a young man at the University of Oslo Magga studied

natural science. At the same time, he took great pride in the

Sami language. From his family he learnt much about their

descriptions of the landscape and how these can function as

a map, integrating topology, geography and information as to

which routes are best to take. Sami nomenclature for snow and

reindeer herding has long been recognised internationally.

POLITICAL AWAKENING

As a child Magga was sent to a board-

ing school where all the teachers

spoke Norwegian. Only the chair-

woman spoke Sami, so for the fi rst two or three years he un-

derstood nothing. Ingenting (nothing) was the fi rst Norwegian

word he learnt.

After elementary school he got the chance to continue his

studies at a secondary school near Oslo. His political engage-

ment started at that time. For two centuries the Sami had been

repressed by harsh Norwegian policies. For bishops and fer-

vent nationalists, “civilising” the Sami was an integral part

of their agenda. An interview with Per Fokstad, at that time a

well-known teacher and pioneer of Sami education, impressed

him, and gave impetus to his own study of the history of his

people. The fi ght for Sami rights to their language and culture

brought about Magga’s political awakening.

How important is education and science for indigenous peoples?

“Personally, I would never have gone to university without

receiving a helping hand. My maternal grandfather advised me

to continue down that road. The Sami would never have been

where we are today without the right to education and the

chance to build our own institutions, like the Sámi Instituhtta

in 1973 (Nordic Sami Institute) and the Sámi Allaskuvla in

1989 (Sami University College),” Magga said over a cup of cof-

fee at the University of Tromsø. Magga has been a professor,

grade II, in Sami language at the northernmost university in

the world for eight years.

Do you see a confl ict in being both an academic and a politician?

“Within my profession, language, there is not much poli-

tics – nobody fi ghts over verbs. But of course, as with science

in general, there are questions that have political implications.

Back to the BooksAfter 40 intense years of work both nationally and inter nationally for the rights of indigenous peoples, Ole Henrik Magga prefers to stay in Guovdageaidnu (Kautokeino) in northern Norway, where he is a professor of linguistics and language at the Sami University College. But his international engagement continues.

john gustavesen/text

arvid sveen/photos

tromsø, norway

F ROM P OL I T IC S T O L I NGU IS T IC S | After more

than 40 years as a politician in the international arena,

Ole Henrik Magga has returned to his hometown of

Guovdageaidnu in northern Norway, where he is a

professor at the Sami University College.

“The Sami would never have been where we are today without the right to education and

the chance to build our own institutions.”

2 8 | I N DIG E NOUS P E OP L E S Ω OL E H E N R I K M AG G A

But most researchers with a good training in the use of scien-

tifi c methods are able to see what is based on scientifi c fact and

what is not. I am not worried about that.”

REVOLUTION

Historically, Norway pursued a highly paternalistic policy to-

wards the Sami, who were considered to be a people that would

eventually succumb in the struggle to survive in the modern

world. Nevertheless, it was considered Norway’s duty to pro-

vide them with “enlightenment” for as long as they held on.

“What has happened in the last three decades I would call a

‘Revolution’,” Magga said.

The establishment of Sami institutions of learning was pro-

moted early on as something that would help the Sami secure

self-awareness and identity. “It was important that we were in-

volved, so our resources could be utilised in areas of academic

research.”

The need for Sami studies became extremely important as

a political consideration, both as a disciplinary concern and as

a matter of cultural policy. The building up of a Sami elite and

the emphasis on new themes in ethno-political discourse be-

came a part of Sami selfh ood.

As a minority the Sami has to live within a state created

by and governed by Norwegians. The asymmetrical relation

between the Sami and Norwegians gave young and educated

Sami the stimulus to challenge the inequitable status quo.

Since the 1970s Magga has been one of the activists working

for self-understanding and, just as importantly, he has entered

into dialogue with Norwegian politicians and authorities.

The Sami movement had already gained a foothold in the

1950s. The Nordic Sami Council, established in 1956, was im-

portant for the mobilization of ethno-politically active Sami,

and channelled Sami demands and views to authorities in the

Nordic countries.

When the Sami movement, under the auspices of the Nordic

Sami Council, participated in the establishment of the World

Council of Indigenous Peoples in

Port Alberni in 1975, Magga was

one of the delegates. The Shuswap

Indian George Manuel was

elected president, and the World

Council has since been instrumental in bringing about the

UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, which

was recently adopted by the UN General Assembly.

CHANGE

The watershed in the Sami struggle within the context of

Norwegian politics came with the construction of a dam on the

Alta-Guovdageadnu river. The dramatic confl ict that the dam

engendered resulted in a political awakening for the Sami, who

were able to see the confl ict in terms of the international strug-

gle for self-determination and rights for indigenous peoples.

Magga was chair of the Norwegian Sami Association when

the Alta aff air became a focus of media attention in the years

around 1980. He has often told of the diffi culties during nego-

tiations between the Sami organisations and the Norwegian

government. Some Sami activists considered him to be insuf-

fi ciently radical.

“As a politician I learnt to compromise,” said Magga. He

played a key role during the crisis. The Sami lost the campaign

against the dam construction, but the Alta aff air proved to be

a turning point, both in relations between Norwegian authori-

ties and Sami politicians, as well as in Sami ethno-political his-

tory. For the Sami, the Alta aff air established their reputation

in the global arena.

Later, the Sami got their own assembly (the Sami parliament)

and a paragraph in the Norwegian constitution. Are there persons

who should be honoured for these concessions?

“Yes!” Magga said without hesitation. “First, the person

who led the Sami Rights Committee, Professor Carsten

Smith, but also Norwegian academics and some Norwegian

parliamentarians. And of course, our own people in academia,

arts and culture, and local organisations, who saw hope for a

new and promising future.”

How did the Norwegian politicians react when you met them

during the Alta affair?

“Many of them had old-fashioned beliefs, and thought we

knew nothing. Later, as they got to know more about our situ-

ation, we developed a degree of mutual respect.”

You became the fi rst president of the Sami parliament. How

was the opening ceremony on 9 October 1989?

“The greatest moment in my life! Years of struggle were not

in vain. King Olav’s words will never be forgotten.”

And afterwards?

“In many ways conditions have changed for the better. Yet

one of the things that worries me is that so few men go on to

higher education, compared with

women. Most of my students are

women. Of course it is a good thing

that women get educated, but if the

men are left out, this creates an im-

balance in our communities. This is an alarming situation that

we have to change,” answered Professor Magga. “If not, Sami

communities may lose their women.”

INTERNATIONAL DISAPPOINTMENT

After active years in Sami politics, including eight years as the

president of the Sami parliament, Magga could have been ex-

pected to devote his energy to his scientifi c work in linguistics.

Instead, he got involved at the international level as the UN

“It is a good thing that women get educated, but if the men are left out, this creates an

imbalance in our communities.”

I N DIG E NOUS P E OP L E S Ω OL E H E N R I K M AG G A | 29

started work on the draft of the declaration on indigenous rights,

under the leadership of Professor Erica-Irene Daes in Athens.

During this period ILO convention No. 169 on Indigenous and

Tribal Peoples was presented. Norway was the fi rst country to

ratify the convention, but only 19 countries have since followed.

Later, the UN Permanent Forum on Indigenous Issues was es-

tablished. Magga was elected the fi rst chairman of the forum in

2002, and re-elected in 2003 and 2004.

How were these years? Are you satisfi ed with global develop-

ments?

“I’m not satisfi ed because I hoped that civilised states like

the USA, Australia and New Zealand would have been more

progressive.

“We saw hope in Australia in the beginning of the 1990s, but

after John Howard’s ten years as prime minister the situation for

the Aborigines has worsened. In the United States, many of the

indigenous peoples live under unworthy conditions. At the Rio

conference in 1992, many nice words were put onto the paper in

the fi nal document, but most of them are not legally binding. The

most concrete result was the article on traditional indigenous

knowledge in the Convention on Biological Diversity (CBD).”

What about Norway’s neighbours?

Sweden is a great disappointment, and even Finland, which

has a promising president in Tarja Halonen, has hesitated, even

though they know our position. We don’t know what will hap-

pen in Russia where many of the arctic peoples’ living condi-

tions are dreadful and the state is drilling for oil and gas.

And Norway?

“As one of the richest countries in the world, Norway should

take the lead. Norway likes to play the role of the prettiest girl

in the class – but that’s not enough,” said Magga. “Norwegians

should push their friends – among these, the Americans.”

What about your own future? You have recently passed 60, do

you still have much strength?

“I will go back to my books and my teaching and study of

the Sami language at the Sami University College. I am also in

charge of a project which aims to fi nd out about the impact of cli-

mate change on reindeer herding. There will always be enough

to do,” concluded Professor Ole Henrik Magga with a smile. GK

John Gustavsen is a freelance journalist and author, based in

Tromsø, Norway.

Arvid Sveen is a photographer and visual artist

based in Tromsø, Norway.

1947: Born in Guovdageaidnu (Kautokeino), northern

Norway

1976: Delegate at the fi rst meeting at the World Council

of Indigenous Peoples

1980-1985: Chairman of the Norwegian Sami

Association

1986: D.Phil. in linguistics (The fi rst to write a doctoral

thesis in Sami)

1987–1988: Professor at the University of Oslo

1989–1997: First President of the Sami Assembly,

Norway

1992–1995: Member of the World Commission on

Culture and Development

1997: Professor at the Sami University College

2002–2005: First chairman of the UN Permanent

Forum on Indigenous Issues

2006: Awarded the Royal St. Olav’s Order for his

political and scientifi c work

OLE HENRIK MAGGA

DIS SA P OI N T E D | Ole Henrik Magga is very disappointed with

the situation for indigenous people around the world. “I hoped

that civilised states like the USA, Australia and New Zealand

would have been more progressive,” he said.

I N DIG E NOUS P E OP L E S Ω OI L I N T H E A M A Z ON | 3 1

From Pollution to Protection Ecuador wants the world to pay USD 350 million a year for it not to extract oil in the Amazon Basin. Is this a new way of protecting the world’s indigenous regions?

kintto lucas/text

dolores ochoa/photos

yasuní, ecuador

M IS T Y R I V E R | The Amazonian provinces of Ecuador, in the east of the country, are those that produce the oil, but are also the areas

with the greatest numbers of poor people, and with land which has been contaminated by waste from oil production.

T H E F I R S T T H I NG that hits the visitor to Yasuní National

Park, aside from the sheer lushness of the mass of vegetation,

is the incredible range of animal calls. In the distance, the

sound of macaws and a howling monkey can be heard; nearby

a large bird, perhaps a harpy eagle, is fl apping its wings; a few

metres away a toad or a frog is croaking, and there is a hum-

mingbird right in front.

The variety of tree and plant species is incredible. There are

cedar and mahogany trees with trunks over a metre in diam-

eter and hundreds of years old. The canopy trees, standing at

over 30 metres tall, have trunks that are extremely straight, but

the chuncho is even taller, rising to 50 metres. It is the chun-

cho’s trunk that is used to make most of the canoes used on the

rivers in the Yasuní.

Interspersed among the trees is an even wider range of spe-

cies of mosses and ferns, orchids and bromelia, fungus and li-

chen, and vines and other climbing plants. Below the canopy

are found the chambira palm, the pambil and the ungurahua

3 2 | I N DIG E NOUS P E OP L E S Ω OI L I N T H E A M A Z ON

BIOSPHERE| The Yasuní National Park is one of the world’s most biologically diverse regions. More than 500 species of birds, 173 mammals, 100

palm. The indigenous people use the latter as a food source,

and to provide medicine and construction material. Around

the Napo, Curaray and Yasuní rivers, the guarumo and guava

tree dominate. The whole area is pervaded by the characteris-

tic damp odour of the rainforest.

CONTAMINATED WATERS

However, a number of breaks can be seen in the forest canopy.

Suddenly there are no more cedar trees: they have disappeared,

altering the landscape in this area of the Amazon rainforest

where the Huaorani people have lived for thousands of years.

In the past decade, oil drilling on the edges of the park and

within its boundaries has polluted some of the rivers.

“We now know what oil is; it hasn’t helped us in the slight-

est, only bringing pollution. Now we say that no more oil

companies should come to our region and we ask the govern-

ment to act because it belongs to everybody,” says one of the

Huaorani leaders, sitting in Yasuní Park.

For the Huaorani, and for most of the Ecuadorian popu-

lation, oil drilling has not improved living conditions. “They

say that they make improvements in return for the oil. In ex-

change they off er a communal building, engines for the ca-

noes, a light generator and, from

to time, a few hundred kilos of

rice. This they give in order to de-

stroy the forest and contaminate

the rivers,” says Huamoni, leader

of the Ñoneno community, before adding: “No more destruc-

tion of our land, no more rice in exchange for contamination,

for death…”

Ñoneno is a Huaoroni community made up of 13 families

make a living from hunting, fi shing, gathering and family

farming. The animals they pursue include deer, monkeys, wild

peccaries and boar, and the paca. Their main agricultural crop

is yucca and banana, but they also grow sweet potatoes, guava,

papaya, pineapple and peanuts. Some members of the com-

munity work as employees of the oil companies which are lo-

cated nearby.

OIL BRINGS DEATH

Yasuní National Park, located in the northeast of Ecuador

and part of the Amazon Basin, was created in 1979 with the

aim of protecting one of world’s most biologically diverse

regions. It extends over 982 000 hectares, and in 1989 it was

given UNESCO Biosphere Reserve status. According to scien-

tifi c studies, there are as many species of plants and shrubs in

one hectare of this forest as there are in the United States and

Canada combined.

More than 500 species of bird, 173 mammals, 100 amphi-

bians, 43 tree frogs and around a hundred reptiles, including

62 snakes, have been identifi ed in the Yasuní. Two of the best-

known species are the pink dolphin and the river turtle, with a

carapace that can measure one metre in length, making it the

biggest freshwater turtle in the world.

As well as being home to the Huaorani people, the Yasuní

is also occupied by the Taromenane and Tagaeri peoples. On

10 May 2006 the Inter-American Commission on Human

Rights established precautionary measures in favour of the

Taromenane and Tagaeri, includ-

ing action to protect the rights of

these groups and guarantee their

way of life.

The Taromenane and Tagaeri

form part of the Huaorani people. In the 1960s, when white

people and people of mixed race began to arrive in the area,

the leader of the two tribes decided to retreat with his people

into the forest and to live in isolation, so as to maintain their

ancestral way of life away from “civilisation”. It is unclear ex-

actly how many of these people have survived; some recent es-

timates put numbers at fewer than 300.

In the medical centre in the city of Coca, the capital of the

Amazonian province of Orellana, medical practitioners tell

“Oil has brought death. We will have to say goodbye forever to the forest, to the rivers, to

the Yasuní.”

I N DIG E NOUS P E OP L E S Ω OI L I N T H E A M A Z ON | 3 3

that after oil drilling began in the

area, the Huaorani people began

to suff er from gastrointestinal,

respiratory and skin disorders. Many of the illnesses, espe-

cially among children, are related to the contamination of

the River Tiputini. “Oil has brought death. If this is happen-

ing with drilling as it is now, imagine if there is more drilling:

we will have to say goodbye forever to the forest, to the riv-

ers, to the Yasuní,” says Juan Enomenga, another indigenous

Huaorani.

AN OIL MORATORIUM

The Amazonian provinces of Ecuador, in the east of the coun-

try, are those that produce the oil, the country’s main export

product, but are also the areas with the greatest numbers of

poor people and with land which has been contaminated by

waste from oil production. This state of aff airs has led the

indigenous communities, NGOs, various social and political

groups, and the government itself to begin to question de-

pendence on oil production as a development tool.

In the Ishipingo-Tambococha-Tiputini (ITT) oil fi eld, a ma-

jor deposit located in the Yasuní Park near to the border with

Peru, the Ecuadorian government is pushing ahead with an

unprecedented proposal: not drilling for oil in return for in-

ternational compensation for the preservation of the natural

environment.

The proposal was put forward by a number of environmen-

tal organisations like Acción Ecológica (Environmental Action),

before being promoted by Alberto Acosta, the former Energy

Minister, and taken up by President Rafael Correa. In May

2007 the Ecuadorian government suspended drilling in the

I T T for one year, and suggested to a number of foreign govern-

ments, international bodies and NGOs that compensation be

paid in return for suspending plans to exploit the oil reserve.

“Instead of drilling for the crude oil with the inevitable de-

struction of the Yasuní National Park as a result, we propose

to save it through a collective eff ort.

We will buy the oil individually or

collectively, with the agreement not

to drill for it and the undertaking by the State, as guarantor, to

declare the area off -limits to the commercial extraction of re-

sources,” says the environmentalist Esperanza Martínez, one

of the forces behind the proposal.

The process would entail the State issuing bonds for the

oil, with a twin agreement never to extract it and to protect

the Yasuní National Park. The four main arguments for push-

ing ahead with this proposal are the need to combat climate

change, to reduce the destruction of biodiversity, to protect the

Huaorani, Tagaeri and Taromenane peoples and to transform

the country’s economy based on a new development model.

“It is important to remember that while the State would

receive USD 350 million for ten years, it would look into an

alternative which would give the State another 50 per cent of

this revenue, and which could provide an indefi nite source of

income. These sums would be spent on activities which free

the country from its dependence on imports and exports and

make it self-suffi cient agriculturally,” explains Martínez.

SUPPORT FROM THE STARS

According to Martínez, more than 100 governments, interna-

tional organisations and individuals have so far expressed an

interest. The support of former US Vice President Al Gore has

also been sought, as has that of the singer Sting, whose wife

supports those aff ected by oil contamination caused by Texaco

in other areas of the Ecuadorian Amazon. Indeed, the contami-

nation in the areas drilled by Texaco over the years has led many

indigenous peoples to oppose oil exploration on their land.

The Norwegian government was one of the fi rst to an-

nounce its intention to join the Great Green Crusade, as some

environmentalists are calling it. Deputy Minister of Foreign

Aff airs Raymond Johansen pledged his government’s support

during a visit to Ecuador in June.

amphibians and around a hundred reptiles have been identifi ed in the Yasuní. The area was given UNESCO Biosphere Reserve status in 1989.

“No more destruction of our land, no more rice in exchange for contamination, for death…”

3 4 | I N DIG E NOUS P E OP L E S Ω OI L I N T H E A M A Z ON

The Clinton Initiative for Environmental Defence, pro-

moted by former US President Bill Clinton, also pledged

to support the Ecuadorian proposal, following which on 26

September President Rafael Correa presented the proposal at

a discussion on climate change at the UN General Assembly.

Former Energy Minister Alberto Acosta suggests, in ad-

dition to the direct support of institutions, countries and in-

dividuals, an exchange of external debt with the “Paris Club”

and other creditors. Ecuador’s foreign creditors could thus re-

duce debt collections or cancel the Ecuadorian debt in return

for an agreement not to drill for oil. This would be good not

just for Ecuador, but for humanity as a whole. “Think before

irresponsibly exploiting oil reserves! To maintain the present

oil extraction policy in the Amazon would be highly irrespon-

sible,” concludes Acosta.

THE WALLS OF QUITO

The proposal includes banning the commercial extraction of

resources in the ITT block in perpetuity and explicitly recog-

nising the rights of the indigenous peoples, particularly those

living in voluntary isolation. According to studies carried out

by the state-owned oil company Petroecuador, the ITT block

contains reserves of around a billion barrels of heavy crude,

with a ratio of 80 barrels of toxic water to every 20 barrels of

oil.

Dozens of environmental organisations from various parts

of the world immediately pledged support for the Ecuadorian

environmental group’s initiative. “E-mail messages have been

arriving from institutions and individuals in dozens of coun-

tries, supporting the initiative and promising to lead a cam-

paign to defend the Yasuní Park,” says Esperanza Martínez.

The Spanish environmentalist Joan Martínez Alier sup-

ported the proposal, adding that we must sell less oil, and at

a higher price which would include taxes for the depletion of

natural resources and for compensation for damage caused to

Amazonian ecosystems.

“The revenue from these taxes must be used to implement

social policies and to develop alternative, renewable energy

sources. Every oil well that closes contributes to the fi ght

against the greenhouse eff ect and climate change,” he said in

one message.

Every day more volunteers sign up to the ITT campaign;

every day Ecuadorians gain a better understanding of what the

campaign means. The slogans “The Yasuní belongs to everyone”

and “Yes to life, no to the ITT” painted on the walls of Quito are

clear evidence that a new movement is afoot in Ecuador. GK

Translated from Spanish

Kintto Lucas is a Uruguayan journalist and author

based in Quito, Ecuador.

Dolores Ochoa is an Ecuadorian photographer

based in Quito, Ecuador.

A M A Z I NG DI V E R SI T Y| The variety of trees and plant species in Yasuní is incredible. Bromelia, fungus, lichen, moss, vine, and climb-

ing plants are interspersed among the trees.

I N DIG E NOUS P E OP L E S Ω OI L I N T H E A M A Z ON | 3 5

Power PlayEcuador’s proposition is interesting because it addresses a question of international concern, according to María Guzman-Gallegos.

teresa grøtan/text

oslo, norway

M A R I A GU Z M A N - GA L L E G OS is researching the interrela-

tions between indigenous communities, NGOs and oil com-

panies in the Ecuadorian Amazon as part of her PhD at the

University of Oslo. She is also the programme adviser for the

Amazon Programme at the Rainforest Foundation Norway.

Is Ecuador’s proposition, that the world pays (either by debt

relief or through other channels) USD 350 million a year for ten

years for the country not to extract oil in Yasuní a new way of sav-

ing indigenous territories?

“Ecuador’s economy is highly dependent on oil produc-

tion. Much of the money obtained through oil production

goes to pay the country’s foreign debt. This is the main con-

text of Ecuador’s proposition. In my view, the proposition

in itself is interesting because saving the Yasuní addresses a

more general unresolved question that is of international con-

cern. This question is how to create fi nancial mechanisms that

value, fi rst, the rainforest and the many ecosystem services

that it provides, and, second, the indigenous practices and

knowledge that contribute to the maintenance of the rainfor-

ests around the world. A central issue in the forthcoming UN

Climate Change Conference in Bali in December is precisely

to fi nd compensation mechanisms for developing countries

so they do not destroy their rainforests. A system of fi nancial

mechanisms would certainly be the best way of saving indig-

enous territories.”

How do you think one should fi nd the balance between the

needs and demands of indigenous people and the governments or

companies interested in the revenue?

“Oil production in indigenous territories always implies

a confrontation between powerful actors, such as trans-na-

tional oil companies, and communities that have usually been

ignored by their own governments. Thus establishing accept-

able relations between oil companies and communities does

not depend on better information or knowledge of each other.

The establishment and regulation of those relations is fi rst and

foremost a political question, a question of power. If oil exploi-

tation is considered inevitable by a state, the best way to pro-

tect the indigenous territories is to have strict indigenous and

environmental legislation, and compensation, monitoring and

control systems that function properly. Indigenous organiza-

tions and communities must be taken into account in the elab-

oration of such legislation and must participate in the control

and monitoring of oil activities. Researchers may contribute

to a better understanding of the political systems within the

diff erent indigenous populations so as to avoid systems that

create or exacerbate diff erences between communities.”

Indigenous peoples fi ghting oil interests is a universal problem.

Could different countries and companies learn through coopera-

tion?

“Part of the problem between indigenous peoples and oil

interests is that the states where there are indigenous popula-

tions historically have not recognised these populations’ right

to exist. Cooperation between countries or companies that

does just not produce inequalities must build upon recogni-

tion of the indigenous population’s right to decide over its

future. This implies also their right to decide that they do not

want oil exploitation in their territory.” GK

Minister of Development Discusses Yasuní plans with Ecuador

The Norwegian Ministry of Foreign Aff airs advises

Global Knowledge that Ecuador has on several occa-

sions informed Norway of its plan to not extract oil

in the Yasuní. During the recent visit in November to

Ecuador by Minister of Development Erik Solheim the

Yasuní plan was one of the topics of discussion. Norway

is very interested in further elaboration and discussion of

this complicated question in international fora. Norway

has not made any promises of fi nancial support for the

Yasuní project, and believes these types of questions

should be solved within an international framework.

The Tender TundraConcealed under the tundra of northwest Russia, enormous oil and gas reserves are a potential source of great wealth. But for the indigenous people of the Nenets autonomous region, the reserves are a threat to their existence.

eivind senneset/text

photo/nenets association yasavey

norway/russia

GR A Z I NG L A N DS DE S T ROY E D | Vast areas in Nenets Autonomous Okrug have been taken over by drilling rigs, oil pipelines, bull-

dozer tracks and massive production facilities. The tundra and grazing land are being degraded and polluted on a large scale.

I N DIG E NOUS P E OP L E S Ω OI L I N RU S S I A | 3 7

T H E N E N E T S AU T ONOMOUS OK RUG (NAO) is a Rus sian

region in the north-eastern corner of the Barents Sea area.

The region, roughly four times the size of the Netherlands,

consists mostly of tundra. Here, the Nenets and Izhma Komi,

the peoples indigenous to the region, have tended their rein-

deer and lived a subsistence lifestyle for as long as anyone can

remember. The world is now turning its eyes on this stark

landscape, not for the sake of the reindeer or the people, but

for the enormous reserves of oil and gas concealed several

kilometres below the tundra.

Vast areas, until recently only used by nomads and their

reindeer herds for an annual migration from the forest-tundra

zone in the winter up to the coasts of the Barents and Kara

seas in summer, have now been taken over by drilling rigs, oil

pipelines, bulldozer tracks and massive production facilities.

The tundra and grazing land are being degraded and polluted

on a large scale. For the indigenous people, the maintenance of

traditional practices has become a fi ght to save their cultural

heritage.

To make matters worse, the population of the district has

not had the ability to track the eff ects of this development. This

may soon change, however, as international scientists and the

indigenous people of Russia are joining forces to docu ment

the changes.

A NEED FOR KNOWLEDGE

“The indigenous people fi nd themselves unable to substantiate

their concerns towards the government authorities and the

oil companies. They lack tools that can be used to document

the situation,” says Winfried

Dallmann, a geologist of the

Norwegian Polar Institute (NPI).

He is the leader of a project aimed

at gathering information on the

situation in the Nenets Autonomous Okrug and publishing

a database that can be used as the basis for constructive dia-

logue between oil companies, the administration and the tra-

ditional land users.

“The most important problem is the lack of information –

people simply do not know what is going on in the country and

in the region where they live,” says Vladislav Peskov. Peskov

is the president of Yasavey – the Association of the Nenets

People. Yasayey is cooperating with the NPI on the project en-

titled “Monitoring of development of traditional indigenous

land use areas in the Nenets Autonomous Okrug, NW Russia”,

as part of the International Polar Year (see Global Knowledge

no.1 2007).

Yasavey helps people who live and work in the tundra to

adapt to modern life. It provides information on the situ-

ation in the region and about new laws; it even provides el-

ementary legal aid as many people do not know their rights.

“By utilising the knowledge of the indigenous people, we

hope to create a tool to document traditional land use and

associated issues. This can be useful, among other things,

for settling claims of land ownership and similar problems,”

Peskov says.

“The project is essentially a monitoring project,” Dallmann

adds. “While the local government may have broad knowledge

of the oil activities, they have paid less attention to understand-

ing the needs and practises of the indigenous peoples. Yasavey

on the other hand represents the interests of the indigenous

population, but they have a hard time gathering information

about the degradation of their pasture lands as a result of de-

velopment.”

PEOPLE’S DATA

In order to overcome this problem, the project aims to publish

a so-called Geographic Information System on the Internet.

The GIS database is intended to contain data on geography,

land use by the indigenous population and industrial activity,

as well as reported ecological problems and changes in the in-

digenous population’s traditional means of subsistence. The

data is compiled from both published sources and new satel-

lite images. A third and perhaps most important source of in-

formation will be the reindeer nomads themselves. Travelling

throughout the partially devastated tundra, they can contrib-

ute exact knowledge on how industrial development has infl u-

enced traditional livelihoods.

A central part of the project is to instruct a number of rep-

resentatives from villages in the NAO

in how to conduct a questionnaire

campaign in their villages. Such a

course was recently held in Naryan-

Mar, the administrative centre of

the NAO. This seminar, led by Olga Murashko, the project’s

expert in anthropology, saw the training of four indigenous

representatives who will each conduct 20-25 interviews.

“Having detailed data on the impact of the oil drilling will

give the Nenets a completely diff erent basis for action. This

database can potentially be used to provide the authorities

with documentation of the impact, and maybe even of illegal

activities, and for negotiation of compensation claims with oil

companies,” says Winfried Dallmann.

Concerning the data, there is also the aspect of legality.

“We have a duty to document the oil and gas industry in the

area as long as it is creating problems. However, maps and GIS

data of such infrastructure are often considered confi dential

in Russia,” says Dallmann. Although all data will be acquired

legally, their publication in an aggregated form may cause legal

problems, the project team fears. In order to avoid legal prob-

“People simply do not know what is going on in the country and in the region

where they live.”

3 8 | I N DIG E NOUS P E OP L E S Ω OI L I N RU S S I A

lems for the Russian project partners, experts will go through

all material before it is published.

Come the fi nal phase of the project, all relevant data will be

scrutinised by an international panel of scientists.

NUMEROUS VIOLATIONS

From the 1960s to the 1980s large parts of the Nenets’ reindeer

pastures, especially in the neighbouring Khanty-Mansi and

Yamal districts, were devastated

by a reckless oil industry. Large-

scale prospective drilling in the

NAO started in the 1990s. Once

again, it was the reindeer herders

that suff ered the most. So far a signifi cant amount of pasture

has been destroyed by the 25 oil companies operating in the re-

gion. “The loss is greater than simply that of the pastures that

have been occupied by the diff erent oil and gas installations,”

Dallmann says, “Because such infrastructure has cut off migra-

tion paths.”

The oil companies are also suspected of grave violations of

Russian environmental laws. “It has long been an uncontrolled

situation. Numerous oil spillages and other forms of degrada-

tion infl ict irreparable damage to the natural environment of

the Arctic,” Dallmann says.

ILO’s convention No. 169 recognises rights to land and

natural resources as central for the material and cultural sur-

vival of indigenous people. This is a convention that Russia

has signed, though not yet ratifi ed. In the Nenets Automous

Okrug, land can still be assigned for industrial usage, while

users receive miserly fi nancial compensation. “Speaking to

reindeer herders I have not heard one positive word on the

presence of the oil industry in the region. As far as the indig-

enous people are concerned, the impressions are exclusively

negative,” Dallmann says.

Vladislav Peskov believes that both the oil companies and the

local government are conscious of the implications of the oil and

gas industry for the indigenous people in the NAO. “However,

everyone has diff erent interests and goals. This project will

hopefully help to improve communication and understanding

between the indigenous people, the oil companies and the gov-

ernment,” Peskov says.

A MAJOR MINORITY

In 1929 NAO was granted the status of national okrug (in 1977

changed to autonomous okrug) because of the large number

of Nenets living in the area. Some eighty years later, ethnic

Russians constitute the majority, and the indigenous popula-

tion of 7750 Nenets and 4500 Izhma

Komi do not participate in public ad-

ministration. The local government

has also proven to be a diffi cult part-

ner to deal with. Last summer, a new

governor was installed on direct orders from Moscow.

“The last governor was positive about our project. The new

governor has now accepted its existence, but has also made it

clear that his government will not contribute with information

about oil and gas installations in any way,” Dallmann says. In

adding to the problems of gathering information, the new gov-

ernment has also made changes that more directly aff ect the

lives of indigenous people. “The oil industry generates money

that could potentially be used for the benefi t of the indigenous

people, and during the last administration there actually ex-

isted such a fund. The new administration, however, has put an

end to this,” Dallmann says.

Still, the project is hoping to have the best possible relations

with the local authorities. “We depend on good relations to en-

sure that our advice will lead to administrative measures that

can improve the situation.” GK

read more:

www.npolar.no/ansipra

Eivind Senneset is a Norwegian freelance journalist,

photographer and author.

L ACK I NG DOCU M E N TAT ION| The indig-

enous people of Nenets Autonomous Okrug lack

the tools to document the destruction.

“Speaking to reindeer herders I have not heard one positive word on the presence of the oil

industry in the region.”

I N DIG E NOUS P E OP L E S Ω OI L I N T H E A RC T IC | 39

A F I E L D S T U DY conducted in the US, Canada, Norway and

Russia on the social and environmental impact of expand-

ing oil and gas activities in the Arctic reveals that indigenous

people in general are positive to the presence of the oil and gas

industry in the Arctic, provided that their traditional territo-

ries are not adversely aff ected and that they are included in any

decision process.

“However, it is a widespread misconception that indig-

enous people speak with one voice. There is a wide variation

of attitudes, both among individuals of the same group and

between diff erent groups. For example, the Sami in general

are positive about off -shore activities, while the Inuit gen-

erally have the opposite attitude as their livelihood is more

connected to the sea,” says Ketil Fred Hansen, a post-doc-

toral fellow at the University of Stavanger and a researcher

on the study.

The study, entitled “Social issues and sustainable develop-

ment in expanding oil and gas activity in the Arctic”, started as

a small report for the oil company Shell. It was then expanded,

and extended for a further year, without further involvement

from oil companies. The study, recently completed, has been

a cooperative project between researchers from all the coun-

tries involved.

The study reveals great diff erences in indigenous peo-

ples’ rights between the countries. The indigenous groups of

Russia enjoy the fewest rights in practice. “The indigenous

peoples of Russia have strong constitutional rights. The regu-

lating laws, however, are seldom observed,” says Hansen. One

of the main reasons is that very few ethnic groups in Russia

are actually recognised as indigenous. “Even those that are

recognised have a hard time advancing their case in the legal

system because of a lack of funds and corruption,” Hansen

says. Indigenous peoples in Alaska enjoy the opposite situa-

tion, as more international laws and rights are observed than

actually legally regulate their issues.

Notions of corporate responsibility also vary between

the diff erent oil and gas companies. Western companies are

in general more concerned about public opinion than their

Russian counterparts, who rarely pay indigenous issues any

more attention than they are obliged to by national law, the

study shows. The study also emphasises the importance of

consulting the aff ected groups. “The study reveals diff erenc-

es between oil companies and the indigenous peoples in the

attitude towards consultation. While some companies seem

to have confused the concepts of consultation and informa-

tion dissemination, indigenous groups claim such “consulta-

tion” is mere grandstanding on the company’s part when they

lack the right to veto a project,” Hansen says. He adds that in-

digenous peoples and the energy fi rms make their judgments

from totally diff erent time perspectives: “While oil compa-

nies usually think 15 to 20 years ahead, indigenous peoples

have generations as their time span.” GK

read more:

Mikkelsen, A., Langhelle, O. (eds.) Arctic Oil and Gas: Sustainability at risk? Routledge (forthcoming 2008)

Welcomes the Oil Indigenous people in the Arctic are in general positive to oil and gas development, a new study shows.

eivind senneset/text

fred ivar klemetsen/photo

stavanger, norwayL AWS A N D R IGH T S | More international laws are observed

than actually legally binding concerning the indigenous

communities in Alaska.

4 0 | I N DIG E NOUS P E OP L E S Ω U N DE C L A R A T ION

I N M I D - SE P T E M BE R , the UN General Assembly adopted

the Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, after a

process that lasted more than 20 years. The declaration rec-

ognises the right of indigenous peoples to self-determination

and to “freely pursue their economic, social and cultural de-

velopment”. The declaration provides for collective rights to a

degree unprecedented in international human rights law.

The declaration specifi es indigenous peoples’ right to

maintain and strengthen their own political, legal, economic,

social and cultural institutions, to establish their own media

and educational systems, and to participate in decision-mak-

ing in matters concerning their interests. They also have the

right to the lands they have traditionally occupied, or, if this is

not possible, to be compensated accordingly.

“The declaration is not legally bind-

ing, and most of the rights stated in it have

already been articulated elsewhere, like in

the 1992 UN Declaration on the Rights of

Minorities, and the Indigenous and Tribal

Peoples Convention adopted by the ILO in 1989. But the new

UN declaration specifi es those rights and places them at a high

level of consciousness in the UN system. This will make it easier

to decide how those rights are to be carried out in practice,” says

Maria Lundberg at the Norwegian Centre for Human Rights.

However, four countries, each with substantial indigenous

populations, opposed the declaration: Australia, Canada,

New Zealand and USA. The international reaction has been

strongest against Canada, because the country has a historical

reputation for promoting the rights of minorities and natives.

This is said to be the fi rst time Canada has voted against an

international human rights instrument.

The Canadian government said it could not support the

document because the broad wording of the fi nal text ap-

peared to give native communities powers that could be in-

compatible with existing law. Phil Fontaine, head of Canada’s

Assembly of First Nations, called it “a stain on the country’s

international reputation”.

Associate Professor Lundberg points out that the declaration

in particular gives indigenous peoples the rights to the lands

and resources that they have traditionally occupied and used.

This is important because indigenous peoples’ traditional way

of life often demands access to nature and natural resources.

“Sometimes territorial claims made by the state, for in-

stance claims made in order to establish a mine or otherwise

exploit natural resources, can completely destroy the native

economy and culture. This declaration

demands that states establish procedures

to recognise these territorial rights. In

.theory, it will be possible to ban territorial

disturbances, even when society at large

could benefi t from those disturbances.”

She says that in situations where everybody wants econom-

ic development, it’s important to make sure that indigenous

culture isn’t the loser in the process. “Indigenous peoples rep-

resent a cultural richness that belongs to all of us. This isn’t

just about basic human rights, but about actively promoting

a cultural variety that will benefi t everyone. It’s about making

room for activities that are diff erent from Western urban cul-

ture. Indigenous peoples are the fi rst to notice the eff ects from

the modern way of life. That makes them special.” GK

Kjerstin Gjengedal is a Norwegian freelance journalist.

Strong Backing for Indigenous RightsThe recently adopted UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples could eventually pave the way for a legally-binding treaty, according to Associate Professor Maria Lundberg.

kjerstin gjengedal/text

oslo, norway

“Indigenous peoples represent a cultural richness that belongs

to all of us.”

I N DIG E NOUS P E OP L E S Ω A P OL I T IC A L T E R M | 4 1

The Politics of Defi nitions

How should we understand the concept “indig-enous peoples”? Is it a benevolent political term for oppressed groups or a dangerous Eurocentric notion fuelling ethnic confl icts?

anne hege simonsen/text

T H E U N SPE N T 22 years debating before it fi nally adopted its

non-binding Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples

this September. Still, the concept continues to be contested,

as it has been ever since the ILO convention on Indigenous and

Tribal populations (ILO No. 107) was adopted in 1957 (which

later developed into the better-known ILO No. 169 in 1989).

The debate has centred on formalising and legalising indig-

enous peoples’ demand for their rights, but it has also been

heavily related to defi nitions: What is an indigenous people?

Who can claim such a status? What does the claim imply?

RACIST AND ESSENTIALIST

Lisbet Holtedahl, professor in social anthropology at the

University of Tromsø, has been a sceptic for three decades.

The new UN declaration does not ease her mind. Her profes-

sional life has been divided between Northern Norway and

West Africa (in particular Cameroon). She has watched how

the Sami struggle for acceptance has caused friction between

the Sami and other minorities in the area, as well as between

the Sami themselves. It is, however, the African context that

worries her the most.

“In Cameroon I see how the question of belonging to a par-

ticular geographical area plays a stronger role every day. Africa

is a continent where people have always moved, and where the

states are weak. In such an environment, the discussion about

who is indigenous and who is not is basically a racist debate

that can trigger ethnic antagonism,” she says.

Holtedahl says she understands the political value of the

concept, but that she fi nds it hard to live with from a profes-

sional point of view.

“Anthropologists should not use or promote concepts that

are essentialist. Professionally, anthropologists need to look

for concepts that serve comparison on a non-ideological level.

Politically, there must be a way to fi ght for marginalised peo-

ples’ rights without essentialising them,” she says.

STATE FAILURE

Historians also experience problems when they try to apply

the concept “indigenous peoples”. Linking collective rights to

historical claims over a geographical territory, like the ILO 169

convention does, has some obvious limitations. Does history

begin with European dominance? Who is indigenous when

several groups established themselves on diff erent parts of a

territory more or less simultaneously?

“ ‘Indigenous peoples’ is fi rst and foremost a political con-

cept. For historians it becomes an uneasy situation when

SCE P T IC |

Professor Lisbet

Holtedahl at the

University of

Tromsø has been

sceptical of the

term indigenous

people for

the last three

decades.

4 2 | I N DIG E NOUS P E OP L E S Ω A P OL I T IC A L T E R M

groups want history to legitimise their present

political claims,” says Teemu Sakari Ryymin, a

historian at the University of Bergen. Ryymin

has studied ethnic minorities in Norway that

do not qualify as indigenous – in particular the

Kven, migrants of Finnish origin who arrived

in northern Norway from the 1600s onwards. Ryymin says he

has seen how the defi nition struggle creates tension between

groups. Norway was the fi rst country to ratify ILO 169, but

when the discussion about land rights legislation peaked in

the 1990s, the Kven were not included.

“You get a situation where the indigenous group is placed

on top, national minorities underneath

and at the bottom you fi nd immigrants

with no collective rights whatsoever.

This hierarchy risks becoming the

driving force behind strategic choices

people and groups make. I am not a

politician, and I don’t want to take away people’s possibility to

create a better future, but I believe that if the state had respect-

ed their obligations to national minorities such as the Kven in

the fi rst place, the struggle for indigenousness would not have

been necessary,” he says.

“However, we should not forget that the world is not static.

“The discussion about who is indigenous and who is not is basi-

cally a racist debate that can trigger ethnic antagonism.”

A BOR IGI NA L SI S T E R S | Australia has a reputation for discrimination against its aboriginal population. In October this year Prime

Minister John Howard surprisingly announced a referendum to recognise the Indigenous Australian in the constitution (contingent on his

re-election). This happened just two weeks after Australia refused to ratify the new UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples.

Photo / Penny Tweedie, Panos Pictures

I N DIG E NOUS P E OP L E S Ω A P OL I T IC A L T E R M | 4 3

In the 1990s there was a lot of tension between the Sami and

the Kven population in Norway. Today these groups are com-

ing together in new ways. People have also learned that legalis-

ing a political notion limits the political space of action in ways

they did not necessarily want,” he says.

SELF-AFFIRMATION AND DEMAGOGY

In the Latin American context, the concept of indigenous

peoples is basically used to describe “Indians”, a category

that lumps together all the diff erent ethnic

groups present on the continent before

European conquest. According to Camilo

Perez Bustillo, lawyer and research pro-

fessor at the Autonomous University of

Mexico City (UACM), “Indian” or “indig-

enous” identity should be seen as a racial, social and cultural

construct which arose during the 300 year long colonial pe-

riod. To him, the concept refl ects a contradictory combination

of a strict system of racial classifi cation with a complex reality

dominated by racial mixture. Issues of identity were rendered

even more complex by large infl uxes of African slaves.

The independence movements from Spanish rule were

heavily infl uenced by the European concept of the nation-state

and indigenous identities were excluded from their political

discourse and practices to promote a new common republican

nationhood. Today, Bustillo believes that “indigenous peoples”

has taken on a new meaning, which should be seen in a more

global context.

“Despite all of its Eurocentric origins and baggage, the

concept has become a symbol of self-affi rmation and of strug-

gle,” he says and compares it to the way African-Americans

use “blacks”, how “nègres” and “beurs” is used in the recent in-

surrections in the French slums and expressed in part in Hip

Hop music, and how the struggles of undocumented (or “il-

legal”) immigrants is expressed in terms such as “sans papiers”

or “sin papeles”.

“The essence of all this is the struggle of marginalised

peoples for equal rights and self-determination, from the re-

cently rekindled civil rights movement in the US to Western

Europe, and from Latin America to Africa and Asia. Mexico’s

Zapatista movement is one of the most compelling examples

of this broader global pattern,” says Bustillo.

He says we should not get too hung up about the diffi culties

of defi nition nor over-theorise the issue, as most groups who

have issues that fall within the scope of the recent UN decla-

ration or ILO 169 have their own sense of identity, and have

concerns that fall within this emerging framework of inter-

national human rights law. He is not convinced, however, that

the UN declaration will have an immediate impact on the lives

of marginalised groups.

“The rights of indigenous peoples in Mexico continue to be

systematically ignored and violated by its government as part

of its broader illegitimacy. Its support for the adoption of the

Indigenous Rights Declaration at the UN is simply hypocrisy

and demagoguery.”

STILL USEFUL

When the International Work Group for Indigenous Aff airs

(IWGIA) was created in 1968, many of its founders were en-

raged by a court case in Colombia where

some individuals were acquitted for mur-

der because they “did not know it was ille-

gal to kill Indians”. The IWGIA has a base

in social anthropology, and according to

Espen Wæhle, chairman of the group’s

board, the Columbia case marked the beginning of “indig-

enous peoples” changing from an essentialist concept and into

an overtly political one.

As its work spread to new regions, the IWGIA has had to

revise the defi nition of “indigenous peoples” several times.

Recognising the Eurocentric roots of the concept, the organi-

sation has worked to overcome the problems by increasingly

stressing the political side of the concept. Today, the IWGIA

uses a diff erent set of criteria, which Wæhle says could be

summed up as peoples in a “non-hegemonic position”.

“Decolonisation processes all over the world revealed sev-

eral pockets of people with unresolved claims to basic rights

and justice. These are the groups that have fought for the new

UN declaration. However we can still see problems: What

about the day when Greenland gets it independence from

Denmark, will Greenlanders still be indigenous? Will some

maintain the status and others not?”

To Wæhle the concept should not be seen as a strict defi ni-

tion, but a way to highlight and solve rights-related problems

and he believes the UN declaration will generate more interest

in the matter, as well as problems:

“The question of ratifi cation is the fi rst problem.

Implementation of the declaration will most certainly be con-

tested, as well as the legislation that will follow. The big ques-

tion at every step is whether or not the confl ict-generating po-

tential is bigger than the political and moral gains embedded

in the concept,” he says. GK

Anne Hege Simonsen is an associate professor at the Oslo

University College, Department of Journalism, as well as an au-

thor and a freelance journalist.

“Despite all of its Eurocentric origins and baggage, the concept

has become a symbol of self-affi rmation and of struggle.”

4 4 | I N DIG E NOUS P E OP L E S Ω A I N U I N J A PA N

”TO BE AINU is still to be discriminated against,” says Kanako

Uzawa.

Herself of Ainu descent, Kanako Uzawa is a graduate stu-

dent of the Master’s Programme in Indigenous Studies at

the University of Tromsø in Norway. Working with Senior

Lecturer Ande Somby at the Faculty of Law, she raises several

questions to clarify similarities and diff erences between the

Norwegian and Japanese governments in terms of acceptance,

implementation and application of Convention No. 169 of the

International Labour Organization (ILO). Convention No.

169 states that rights for the indigenous peoples to land and

natural resources are recognised as central to their material

and cultural survival. Norway was the fi rst country to ratify

this convention, in 1990, but Japan has yet do to so.

STILL OPPRESSED

Born in Tomakomai, Hokkaido, Kanako Uzawa was raised as

Japanese. Her Ainu background was something that she felt

Minority ReportThe Ainu population of Japan is not recognised as an indigenous people and faces oppression. Ainu descendant Kanako Uzawa in-vestigated the reasons and found them rooted deep in both history and modern politics.

eivind senneset/text

fred ivar klemetsen/photo

tromsø , norway

T R A DI T IONS | Much of the Ainu culture has survived into modern times, even though both the people and their lands were exploited for

centuries. Japan is yet to recognise the Ainu as indigenous.

I N DIG E NOUS P E OP L E S Ω A I N U A I N U I N J A PA N | 45

rather than knew. “I had a feeling that there was something

unspoken, something unrecognised,” she says. “When I recog-

nised myself as Ainu, it was a completely new experience, an

exciting new beginning to my life,” Uzawa says.

Attending schools in Tokyo and its environs, Kanako Uzawa

learned nothing of the Ainu people from her textbooks. When

she turned 15, she started taking interest in the cultural tradi-

tions of the Ainu, song and dance in particular. Then, ten years

ago, she participated in a cultural exchange programme that

brought her to the Sami communities in northern Norway.

She was impressed with the focus on cultural identity and the

pride the Sami people took in their heritage.

An indigenous people of Hokkaido and the north of

Honshu in northern Japan, the Kuril Islands, Sakhalin and

the southern parts of the Kamchatkan peninsula in today’s

Russia, the Ainu traditionally subsisted on hunting, gather-

ing and some minor agriculture. Much of the Ainu culture has

survived into modern times, even though both the people and

their lands have been exploited for centuries.

When the modern nation of Japan was established, so was

an aggressive policy of assimilation, imposing the Japanese

culture and educational system on the Ainu. They were forced

to farm poor land allotted to them by the Japanese govern-

ment and only allowed to attend boarding schools to learn the

technical skills necessary for physical labour. The use of their

own Ainu language was strictly prohibited.

On 1 July 1997, the Law for the Promotion of the Ainu Culture

and for the Dissemination and Advocacy for the Traditions of the

Ainu and the Ainu Culture was enacted. As this legislation was

limited to the promotion of Ainu culture and language, many

Ainu were dissatisfi ed with it. “It failed to make a binding reso-

lution to recognise the Ainu as an indigenous people of Japan,”

Kanako Uzawa says.

“ONE NATION” AND INTERNATIONAL EXPECTATIONS

The indigenous movement did not reach Japan until the 1980s.

“As Japan is a much older country than Norway, it holds to a stron-

ger form of the ‘one nation’ concept. Norway on the other hand

seems keener to pay attention to human rights, adhering to the

expectations of international society,” says Kanako Uzawa.

She lists three other reasons behind the Norwegian Sami’s

better position compared to that of the Ainu. For one thing,

the Norwegian government never completely succeeded in as-

similating the Sami population. Secondly, the legal system in

Norway made it easier to ratify the ILO convention as changes

in domestic legislation were unnecessary.

The third issue is the strength of the indigenous groups’

own movement. “While we do have a formal body for the

Ainu, namely the Association of Hokkaido, this only covers

the Hokkaido area. The Ainu who have moved to cities and

other areas are systematically ignored. This makes it chal-

lenging for the Ainu to unify as an indigenous group in Japan,”

Uzawa says.

In 2005 and 2006, Japan saw two visits of Doudou Diene, a

UN special rapporteur on contemporary forms of racism and

related intolerances. The report concluded that there is racial

discrimination and xenophobia in Japan, aff ecting, among

others, the Ainu people. The report pointed out disparate lev-

els of education, social welfare, health, employment, legal ser-

vices and discrimination aff ecting the Ainu compared to the

wider Japanese population. It also introduced two strategies

suggested by the Ainu community itself: to educate the gener-

al Japanese population about the Ainu, and to recognise them

as an indigenous people.

In reply, the Japanese government submitted its concern to

the UN that Doudou Diene’s report included many statements

beyond his mandate. Answering the accusations of former vio-

lations of human rights, the Japanese government upheld that

the past had no bearing on contemporary forms of discrimina-

tion. In this, believes Kanako Uzawa, the Ainu people disagree.

“I believe that discrimination and prejudice never exist in isola-

tion, but have much wider social implications.” GK

4 6 | I N DIG E NOUS P E OP L E S Ω C E NO T E S I N M E X IC O

T H E C E NO T E S A R E C AV E S or sinkholes that the Mayans

used for a variety of purposes. They provided sources of

drinking water, as well as altars for off erings and human sacri-

fi ce to appease the gods in times of drought. The cenotes were

also looked upon as gateways to the afterlife.

The cenotes are found wherever there is porous rock, such as

limestone. Rainwater percolating through the rock dissolved

the stone over the millennia to create voids: some cenotes are

open freshwater pools, while others form

huge caves and canals deep inside the rock.

Archaeologists Guillermo de Anda

Alanis at the Autonomous University of

Yucatan (UADY) in Mexico and Professors Marek E. Jasinski

and Kalle Sognnes of the Norwegian University of Science

and Technology (NTNU) in Norway are cooperating to demys-

tify a few of the endless secrets associated with these ancient

sinkholes.

The cenotes can be found throughout the former Mayan em-

pire, which covered a vast area of what is today Guatemala, El

Salvador, Belize, Honduras and parts of Mexico. Their civilisa-

tion existed for 1200 years, reached a peak between 250 and 900

A.C, and left a rich legacy of art, architecture and astronomy.

DEEP WATER MYSTERIES

The cenotes contain a rich trove of mysteries. The water itself

contains mysteries: such as the eff ect of consumption of the

calcium- and magnesium-rich cenotes water on the health of

the Mayans, or whether they knew of any methods for sof-

tening the hard water. Skulls have been found in the cenotes,

which Guillermo de Anda Alanis believes might date back to

the Pleistocene era (1.8 million -11 000 years B.C.) Pottery dat-

ed at between 500 and 2000 years old has already been recov-

ered and preserved. The oldest ceramic pot found in the north

of Yucatán was recently found in a cenote,

and is now on exhibit at the Anthropology

Museum in Mérida. The researchers hope

the project will throw light on the organi-

sation of the Maya City States, and their economic and agri-

cultural systems.

The cooperation agreement between the two universities

has provided the Mexican partners access to NTNU’s state-of-

the-art methodology and technology applicable to the study

of cenotes and Mayan maritime sites. Divers usually locate

new fi ndings in the cenotes, but some of the sites are today in-

accessible to humans. Professor Jasinski says he is working on

adapting remote-sensing technology to the cenote environ-

ment. Remotely operated vehicles (ROVs) have in recent years

revolutionized deep sea work, whether for archaeology or for

oil and gas development, and Jasinski is keen to use them to

explore the cenotes.

The Secrets of the CenotesThe mystic water-fi lled caves in Mexico called cenotes may reveal new secrets of ancient Mayan culture.

venkatesh govindara /text

mexico/norway

I N T O T H E M YS T IC | Cenotes are freshwater sinkholes or

caves that developed thousands of years ago. Norwegian research-

ers have teamed up with Mexican partners to expand archaeolog-

ical research into their depths. Photo/Guillermo Pruneda Block,

Fundación Haciendas Mundo Maya

The cenotes were looked upon as gateways to the afterlife.

I N DIG E NOUS P E OP L E S Ω C E NO T E S I N M E X IC O | 47

The success of the research project is also likely to boost

tourism in the local communities in Yucatán, and the research-

ers are cooperating with the Fundación Haciendas Mundo

Maya on possible ways to create new. “Local authorities in the

communities we work in are very interested in getting infor-

mation from us regarding the conditions in the cenotes, like

depth, visibility, bottom composition and fauna. They are es-

pecially interested in knowing which sites might be available

for tourism in the future,” Professor Jasinski says.

CENOTES DOWN UNDER

The Mayan cenotes appear to be of unique cultural impor-

tance despite the presence of similar sinkholes elsewhere in

the world. “There are reports of some cenotes with archaeo-

logical material in other parts of the world, but it cannot be

established that they were used as altars for off erings or for

other ceremonial purposes. Sinkholes exist in Australia for

instance. Cave art is found in some of them, as far as we know.

These sinkholes were dry unlike the water-bearing cenotes in

Central America, and the only common feature is the rock art,”

Professor Kalle Sognnes says.

The project has also proven the experience of a lifetime

for the students engaged in fi eld work. “Both Norwegian and

Mexican students take an active part in the fi eld work on the

project in Yucatán. They are involved in the survey and docu-

mentation of the sites, both on land and underwater. They

work on cenotes and maritime sites such as Mayan harbours,

historical shipwrecks along the coast, as well as archive stud-

ies,” Professor Jasinski says. He hopes for a formal exchange

of students between the NTNU and the UADY. “We hope to re-

ceive one or two students from UADY in August 2008 to join

the International Master’s Degree Programme in Maritime

Archaeology at the NTNU. We also hope that at some time

in the future Norwegian students will join courses at UADY,”

Professor Jasinski says.

Venkatesh Govindara is an Indian journalist and PhD researcher

at the NTNU in Trondheim, Norway.

read more:

Anda, A.de G. G. (In press): Sacrifi ce and Ritual Body Mutilation in Post-classic Maya Society. The Taxonomy of the Human Remains from Chichén Itza`s Cenote Sagrado. In New Perspectives on Human Sacrifi ce and Ritual Body Treatments in Ancient Maya Society, Springer, New York.

Anda, A. de G. G., V. Tiesler y P. Zabala. (2004): Cenotes espacios sagrados y la práctica del sacrifi cio humano en Yucatán. En Los Investigadores de la Cultura Maya 12, tomo II, 376-386.Universidad Autónoma de Campeche, Campeche, México.

Sognnes, K., Jasinski, M. E., Anda A. G.G. (2006):. Hulen med de små

hender. SPOR; 2(48):50-51.

SACR I F ICE | The Mayans

sacrifi ced humans in the

cenotes to appease the gods

in times of drought. Photo/

Guilermo de Anda Alanis

4 8 |

T I M BU K T U M A N U S C R I P T S | 4 9

“A R E YOU I N T E R E S T E D in the manuscripts?”

We have come to the Ahmed Baba Institute for Higher

Education and Islamic Research (IHERIAB) in Timbuktu to

look at their collection of ancient manuscripts, and we are go-

ing to spend the night. It is an early Sunday afternoon and the

centre is closed and quiet. But Ibrahim Abba, aged 13, is not

only the son of the guardian at IHERIAB,

he is also an enterprising young man

who knows his ancient city of sand and

clay inside out. He can point out any of

the tombs of the 333 saints buried in and

around Timbuktu, he knows that tourists

like to see the ancient mosques with their

characteristic pointed profi les, dating

back to 1325, and maybe the Buktus as well – supposedly the

dwellings of the Tuareg woman who founded the city in the 11th

century. But most importantly – Ibrahim knows where to look

for ancient manuscripts, Timbuktu’s unique cultural heritage,

even when everything is closed.

THE “INK ROAD”

Few present-day cities have such a mythic aura as Timbuktu.

Situated on the frontier of the inhospitable Sahara desert,

virtually inaccessible (or at least hard to reach) by modern

communications standards, it is hard to imagine how with its

bleak yellow-grey clay features it was once cast as Africa’s El

Dorado.

But Timbuktu’s reputation is linked to travel and trade, not

isolation. In Timbuktu West African gold met Saharan salt,

and this is the place where the Arabic language and Islamic

thought and philosophy blended with the local Songhay and

Tuareg cultures, and also infl uenced peoples like the Fulani,

the Mandé and the Bambara. Contrary to popular belief, these

African cultures were not oral. In the Sahel region most ethnic

groups were literate in Arabic or used the

Arabic alphabet to write their local languag-

es. Literacy was, however, usually restricted

to certain social strata or professions, like

clerics and marabouts (mystical leaders) or

merchants.

Wealthy Timbuktu thus became not only

an important crossroads between the North

and the South, the East and the West, it was also a literary

hotspot where creation of a great library was important for

prestige. People ordered their books from Mecca or North

Africa, and there was a whole industry centred on scribes cop-

ying important manuscripts. In addition people stored com-

mercial contracts, legal rulings, notes on disputes and griev-

ances as well as an abundance of poetry. This tradition gave

Timbuktu its central position on what is called the “African

Ink Road”.

30 000 MANUSCRIPTS

Ibrahim lives with this treasure on a daily basis. Behind its

sandy white stone walls, IHERIAB is one of the major Islamic

research and teaching institutions in the region, following

a line of scholarly tradition dating back to the heyday of this

dusty town in the Middle Ages. Today IHERIAB houses some

30 000 ancient manuscripts covering themes as diverse as

shopping lists, religion, traditional medicine, poetry and po-

litical history.

Saving the Treasures of TimbuktuAncient documents in Timbuktu alter the image of an illiterate Africa.

anne hege simonsen/text

timbuktu, mali

“Salt comes from the North, gold from the South, money from the

white man’s country. But the word of God and the treasures of wisdom

come only from Timbuktu.”

PRO T E C T ION | Many Timbuktu families have guarded their

ancient manuscripts in metal boxes, to protect them from fl oods.

Director of the Mohamed Taher Library Abdoul Wahid Haidara

shows a metal box full of books. Photo/Alida Boye

5 0 | T I M BU K T U M A N U S C R I P T S

In 2000 the Timbuktu Manuscripts Project was set up to

simultaneously conserve the old and often brittle documents,

digitalise them and make them accessible to researchers all over

the world. This is not the fi rst, nor the only project working on

preserving the manuscripts, but it was the fi rst long-term and

systematic attempt to safeguard them for future study.

The Timbuktu Manuscripts Project is a result of a long-

standing relation between the Centre for Environment and

Development (SUM) at the University of Oslo and the National

Centre for Scientifi c and Technological Research (CNRST) in

the Malian capital Bamako. Since 1989 these two institutions

have promoted research in diff erent fi elds, for example to fur-

ther knowledge of traditional medicine in the Timbuktu re-

gion. In 1996 they wanted to present some of the research re-

sults in Timbuktu and organised a conference at the IHERIAB.

Here they discovered a wide range of books on traditional

medicine that they didn’t know existed and which they felt

should have been included from the start.

The idea for the project was born, and today it has expand-

ed to encompass cooperation between CNRST, IHERIAB,

SUM, the Institute for the Study of Islamic Thought in Africa

at Northwestern University in the USA, and the University of

Bergen. SUM’s Alida Jay Boye is the overall coordinator.

AFRICAN RENAISSANCE

The unique blend of Arabic and African cultures makes the

manuscripts the new treasure of Timbuktu. Any richly decorat-

ed manuscript from the 13th, 14th or even 18th century has a com-

mercial value, but the Timbuktu manuscripts have a symbolic

value as well. They tell the story of another Africa, beyond the

image of a purely oral continent. This fi ts well into the image-

ry many modern African leaders want to convey – like when

the New Partnership for Africa’s Development (NEPAD) em-

braced the manuscripts as their fi rst offi cial cultural project, or

when South Africa Tabo Mbeki made the “Mali Manuscripts”

a presidential project in 2001. South Africa is presently con-

structing a new building for the IHERIAB.

To Mbeki, supporting the Timbuktu manuscripts is more

than a symbolic gesture. It is an antidote to a pivotal part of

the racist apartheid system, namely the suppression of any evi-

dence of African civilisation – in South Africa and elsewhere.

Our guide Ibrahim has never met Mbeki, but he knows

Alida Boye. “She is my friend. Everybody here knows her,” he

states matter-of-factly. He takes us on a guided tour that proves

him right. We pass by the beautifully decorated doors of the

Mamma Haidara Library, the fi rst private library to open its

doors to the public.

At the next private collection, the Fondo Kati, Alida Boye’s

name works magic as a door opener. The Kati family’s library

builds on the writings and collections left behind by Ali B. Ziyad

al-Quti, a converted muslim from Andalucia who established

himself in the Timbuktu region in the 15th century. Today the

Fondo Kati collection consists of 3 000 documents, in Arabic,

Spanish, Hebrew and French. They deal with Islamic law, medi-

cine, history, mysticism, grammar, astronomy and astrology,

poetry and mathematics. But the room housing the manuscripts

is being renovated and is closed to us. All we are allowed to see

are the enlarged pictures of decorative Arabic writings.

T I M BU K T U M A N U S C R I P T S | 5 1

“Alida took the pictures and I helped her,” Ibrahim exclaims

proudly as he guides us back to the IHERIAB.

HISTORY OF HUMANITY

The next morning Ibrahim brings us instant coff ee in plastic

mugs and watches us with a concerned and slightly paternal

manner. Will we be able to conduct an interview with the re-

search director of the IHERIAB in a proper fashion when we

obviously didn’t sleep well? A few moments later he puts on his

French football t-shirt to go to school and leaves us in the hands

of Sidi Mohammed Ould Youbba. Ould Youbba is also assist-

ant director of the IHERIAB and the man with the keys to the

manuscripts. Finally we are going to see some of them with our

own eyes.

Ould Youbba is dressed in a fl uttering damask boubou, the

colour is a warm brown like the wooden bookshelves cover-

ing the walls. The curtains are drawn, and in the middle of the

room is a glass case, displaying around a dozen ancient docu-

ments.

Ould Youbba caresses the display case lightly with his fi ngers.

“This is the history of Africa, and of humanity,” he says.

A colourful mixture of intricate Arabic handwriting and ab-

stract images decorates the documents, in yellow, brown, red,

ochre and a touch of indigo. The oldest dates back to 1204.

SHARING KNOWLEDGE

IHERIAB is a state institution, but most of the manuscripts

come from private homes. Ould Youbba explains that every

Timbuktu family is related to a scholar and every family has a

library. But not all are able to preserve the documents as well

as the Mamma Haidara or Fondo Kati. IHERIAB is thus try-

ing to convince as many as possible to leave their manuscripts

in the Institute’s care. This task is by no means as easy as it

should be.

“Some don’t want to give away their manuscripts. They are

afraid they will disappear, that someone will overwrite the

originals, destroy them or sell them. This has happened be-

fore. But this is Africa’s memory and we want to share it with

everybody,” he says.

Ould Youbba points out that the colonisers have been to

a large extent the ones writing Africa’s history. Some of the

documents in his collection challenge colonial notions of the

past. Right now scholars are working on some notes from the

legendary El Hadj Omar Tall, who fought a bitter battle against

Ahmadou Ahmadou in the mid-1800s, and who also tried to

invade Timbuktu. The reasons for his campaigns have been

highly debated among historians in and of the region, and the

newly-found documents are contributing new insights.

“We need to know more about what happened yesterday.

The fi nal version of history has not yet been written,” Ould

Youbba says. His personal favourite among the documents is

however a manuscript explaining traditional medical practices.

“This shows how advanced traditional medicine was. I am

sure there is something for modern doctors to learn from this.”

PROVIDING ACCESS

Ould Youbba has worked at the institute for 28 years, and

for most of that period the documents were stacked on the

shelves, one above the other. With the Timbuktu Manuscript

Project, giving Malian researchers access to their own treas-

ures is a key issue. Even in Bamako, people often do not know

that the manuscripts exist, and even if they do, they don’t

know what they contain. An important part of the project is

therefore to digitalise and catalogue the manuscripts for re-

search purposes.

The manuscripts are dusted and put in specially designed

boxes, tailor-made to suit each document. The boxes are hand-

made in the adjacent building, the workplace of 13 people, both

women and men.

Today they are not working at full speed. A load of book

cloth has been delayed, slowing down the restoration work.

But covers can still be made. They are tailored in hard leath-

er, a specialty of the Tuareg blacksmiths as they are a social

group already involved in leatherwork. All the ethnic groups in

Timbuktu are socially stratifi ed, which also regulates who can

do what in relation to the manuscripts, particularly as many

are of religious importance.

HEAT AND FLOOD

Conservation specialist Samaké Souley mane explains how

L E F T: DE SE RT |

Timbuktu is situ-

ated on the edge of the

Sahara. Photo/Alida

Boye

R IGH T: CE N T R E

OF T H E WOR L D |

Timbuktu was a reli-

gious and commercial

centre as far back as

the 12th century. The

Djingareyber was built

in 1327 and is a living

memory of the city’s

cultural heritage.

Photo / Helge

G. Simonsen

5 2 | T I M BU K T U M A N U S C R I P T S

each manuscript needs to be treated individually. Some of

the documents are books, others merely fragments of a page.

Each has to be protected as well as possible, and the idea is that

a researcher should be able to fi nd the document on the shelf,

but instead of contributing to its decay, by

letting his fi nger run along the written text

on the fragile paper, he or she will now

get a digital copy. 10 000 documents have

been treated so far, but there are 20 000 more to go and the

numbers are increasing.

“Luckily Timbuktu is a hot and dry place,” says Samaké.

He is convinced the climate is the reason why so many manu-

scripts are still available. But he is not impressed by traditional

preservation methods. “In the private families you can often

fi nd documents in wooden coff ers – a Mauritanian system that

protects against termites and other insects, but others also

use cardboard, leather or bury the manuscripts in the sand.

Sometimes we fi nd documents in metal boxes, damaged by

fungus, stains or water,” he says, referring to the great fl ood in

Timbuktu some years back.

People started using metal boxes after the city burned

down several times. But the 1990s were unexpectedly damp

and humid. Finding the best way to preserve the documents is

an ongoing debate among local and international experts.

RETURN OF THE CALLIGRAPHERS

The new-found interest in the old documents has also gener-

ated some new commercial activity. We discover this as the

sun discreetly turns the sand into a shade of pre-nocturnal

honey. Ibrahim is back from school and leads us to a kinder-

garten. When the children leave for home, Boubacar Sadek

takes over the premises. On the table he spreads his small bot-

tles with coloured ink, his gold, his virgin paper and his leather

frames, made for him by local women. He has been studying

the ancient art of copying and is trying to make a living from

it. He even has seven students. Sadek says

it is about time that the tradition of callig-

raphy returned to Timbuktu. Alongside the

religious scholars and the merchants, the

copyists played an important role in sustaining Timbuktu as

a cultural centre.

“But photocopying machines and modern technology made

them redundant. Today this is changing. Now everything is

getting digitalised and people start to long for something they

can see and touch,” Sadek says. It can take him as long as 45

days to copy a large document.

When he has no customers he copies old proverbs. This is

one of his favourites: “Salt comes from the North, gold from

the South, money from the white man’s country. But the

word of God and the treasures of wisdom come only from

Timbuktu.” GK

read more:

Harrak, F. and Boye, A. (eds.) (2006) “Chemins du Savoir: Les manu-scrits Arabes et A’jami dans la region Soudano-Sahelienne Colloque International 13–17 juin 2005–Rabat” Université Mohammed V - Souissi, Institut des Etudes Africaines, Rabat

Hunwick, J.O. (ed.) (2003) Arabic Literature of Africa The Writings of Western Sudanic Africa Brill Academic Publishers

Benjaminsen T.A. and Berge G. (2000) Timbuktu: Myter, Mennesker og Miljø Spartacus

sum.uio.no/timbuktu

BOOK SCI E NCE | Restoring the manuscripts is a science in

itself. Salla Ag Mohaya, Mohamed Alher Ag Almady and

Samaké Souleymane and their conservation team have con-

structed nearly 2000 handcrafted boxes to store the ancient

documents. Photo/Anne Hege Simonsen

U N K NOW N T R E A SU R E | Many people even in Mali do not

know about the thousands of old manuscripts in the country. One

part of the Timbuktu Manuscript Project is to digitalise them and

make them known and available both to researchers and to the

general public. Photo/Alida Boye

“This is the history of Africa, and of humanity.”

M A L AW I A N B O OK ON P OL I T IC S | 5 3

The research project was designed to study and analyse demo-

cratic accountability in the context of the 2004 general elec-

tions in Malawi. This election marked the fi rst transition be-

tween democratically elected presidents, after the Malawian

people in a 1993 referendum voted in favour of multi-party

democracy, putting an end to the previous single-party state

system.

“Our aim was to study the election and the way it was ad-

ministered. More generally we wanted to analyse how the

party system had developed since the multi-party system had

been installed, the role of the parliament in relation to the exe-

cutive system, and the role of the judiciary. We wanted to see

all of these elements in relation to each other, and look at how

they interacted,” says Lars Svåsand, professor in Comparative

Politics at the University of Bergen. The project, funded by

the Norwegian Programme for Development, Research and

Education (NUFU) and initiated in 2003, is a collaborative

project between the University of Malawi, the University of

Bergen and the Christian Michelsen Institute (CMI).

During the project, the need for a book on Malawian poli-

tics was mentioned several times, and with a little extra fi nan-

cial help from the NUFU system, the idea could be realised. The

book, Government and Politics in Malawi, provides a compre-

hensive coverage of Malawian politics, from the 1995 constitu-

tion to public sector reform and international relations. Many

people contributed to the book – notably from the Centre for

Social Research in Malawi – which covers a broad range of po-

litical institutions and their functions. Professor Svåsand has

co-edited the book together with Dr. Nandini Patel from the

University of Malawi.

“The book isn’t about the 2004 elections in particular. It

deals more generally with the relations between the diff erent

political institutions, trade unions, civil society and the me-

dia,” Svåsand explains. During the single-party era, politics as

an academic discipline was not formally allowed in Malawi.

The book will be used by political science students, as the

University of Malawi has off ered a bachelor’s degree in po-

litical science for several years. Through Norad’s Programme

for Master Studies (NOMA), the University of Malawi and the

University of Bergen have now developed a Master’s degree

programme in the same fi eld.

The NUFU project that spurred the book has received funds

for a second period, which will be spent studying the consoli-

dation of this young democracy. GK

read more:

Government and Politics in Malawi is published by the Centre for Social Research at the University of Malawi and the Christian Michelsen Institute and printed by Kachere Books, 2007.

First Book on Politics in MalawiA research project aimed at studying Malawi’s steady transition to a modern democracy has re-sulted in the country’s fi rst textbook on government and politics.

kjerstin gjengedal/text and photo

bergen, norway

P OL I T IC A L BOOK | For the fi rst time in Malawian history,

a book on political science is published. Professor Lars Svåsand

at the University of Bergen is the co-editor together with Dr.

Nandini Patel at the University of Malawi.

5 4 | MODE R N DA NC E I N Z I M B A B W E

F OR PE OPL E USE D to queuing for everyday essentials, the ab-

sence of a queue seems incongruous: an anxious group of school

leavers mills around a huge hall waiting for the action to start.

As if on cue, a throng of casually dressed and expectant

youths leaps onto the parquet stage for today’s dance session.

Even those with two left feet are welcome, as long as they have

patience, passion and panache.

A young woman with braided hair tied at the back wel-

comes everyone to the session and explains that relaxation and

concentration are essential tools in any dancer’s kit.

Dancing Zimbabwe Onto the Map“A country without art is dead. Let’s keep Zimbabwe alive.”

busani bafana/text

tsvangirayi mukhwazi/photos

harare, zimbabwe

NO T A N OBV IOUS CHOICE | Women do not normally dance professionally in Zimbabwe, and Caroline Tedi is the fi rst woman to

receive a scholarship to study dance in Norway, through the Norad Programme in Arts and Cultural Education.

MODE R N DA NC E I N Z I M B A B W E | 5 5

“Do not be tense, relax,” says Caroline

Rufaro Tedi, an upcoming Zimbabwean

dance student, who is the centre of attrac-

tion for many reasons; her looks, her con-

fi dent movements and dance rhythm. She eases the students

into warm-up exercises to the beat from a radio in the far cor-

ner of the stage. The setting is the auditorium of the Zimbabwe

College of Music in downtown Harare, Zimbabwe.

Despite a rich heritage in the arts, Zimbabwe’s dance

prospects are bleak, due to the harsh economic and political

environment. “Like all forms of art, dance is important for a

country no matter what the circumstances. A country without

art is dead. Let’s keep Zimbabwe alive,” Marie-Laure Edom,

or Soukaina as she calls herself, says.

Soukaina is the Zimbabwean coordinator in a cooperative

dance project between Zimbabwe and Norway. Caroline Tedi

and Simbarashe Norman Fulukia are studying for their bach-

elor’s degrees in dance at the National Academy of the Arts in

Oslo, Norway. The cooperation between

the Oslo Academy and the Dance Trust

of Zimbabwe (DTZ), part of the Norad

Programme in Arts and Cultural Education,

has brought the two young dancers back to Zimbabwe during

their Norwegian holidays to run free workshops in traditional

and modern dance for curious Zimbabweans.

A NEW GOSPEL

“We start with the drop bar. 1-2-3 drop, 4-5-6 and up. Now let

us do the chest movements, 1-2-3 centre, back centre, 4 right

centre, 5 left centre,” Caroline continues as the pace of the

warm-up exercise increases with the tempo of the music.

The faces of the students at this workshop – one of several

that Caroline and Simbarashe, have held in Harare – brim

with mixed expressions. Some are already on top of the game,

while others grimace when they put their left foot forward

only to realise it’s time to turn around or clap.

F R E E YOU R SE L F | “When you dance you must express yourself and not restrict your body; free your limbs,” Simbarashe Fulukia says

to the workshop participants. Simbarashe has formed the Fulukia Performing Arts Academy in Harare to teach traditional and contempo-

rary dance to Zimbabweans.

Even those with two left feet are welcome, as long as they have pa-

tience, passion and panache.

5 6 | MODE R N DA NC E I N Z I M B A B W E

Contemporary dance is a new gospel

to many. Most of them are here more

out of curiosity than anything else. Then

Caroline’s easy-shaking hips and undu-

lating waist draw attention and amusement.

The workshop soon explodes into more energetic dance

routines. Initial shyness at failing to imitate simple steps turns

into confi dent manoeuvres of people who have been dancing

all their lives.

“We learnt about contemporary dance,” says a workshop

participant, Tapiwa Makombore. “The Africa fusion was

pretty good. I liked the way Simba was using examples to il-

lustrate how we can internalise dance. You easily grasped the

techniques.”

A SACRIFICE

But outside the college fence, it is not simple dancing for oth-

er Zimbabweans. The dance workshops were held against a

backdrop of an escalation in prices of basic commodities like

milk, bread, cooking oil, meat, sugar and salt. Add to that the

cost of public transport to get to work, or better still to a work-

shop on dance. There are heavier matters to ponder than fro-

licking on the fl oor.

Zimbabwe’s economic fortunes are at their worst since in-

dependence. Hyperinfl ation of more than 7500 per cent, the

highest in the world, makes shopping for everyday essentials a

nightmare – if you can fi nd them.

Many of the students at the workshop dance as if they have

no worries in the world, but it has been a personal, if not a

family, sacrifi ce for the opportunity to study arts in a country

where unemployment has been pegged at 80 per cent.

For the two young Zimbabweans Simbarashe Fulukia and

Caroline Tedi, the opportunity to dance

is a dream come true. “People laugh when

I tell them I am a dancer, because they say

everyone is a dancer. A lot of people do not

know anything about ballet. Through contemporary dance, I

show and explain ballet as being what white people do. If you

tell them it is contemporary dance they will not understand,”

Caroline says.

GIRLS CAN DANCE

From the streets of Mbare to the dance classrooms in Oslo has

been a near-legendary journey for Caroline, who has made

artistic history by being the fi rst Zimbabwean girl to benefi t

from the highly competitive scholarship.

“I was happy to have been chosen and to learn that I was the

fi rst girl,” says Caroline with a grin. “I have challenged myself

to prove I can do it. My dream is to represent Africa and show

that girls can dance.”

The gender issue has poignant signifi cance to dance in

Zimbabwe. Soukaina, the coordinator of the eight-year-old

cooperation with Norway and artistic director of the Dance

Foundation Course, says the number of girls studying modern

dance in Zimbabwe is minimal. “In black communities you

have more boys than girls in dance. Caroline is the fi rst girl to

benefi t from this scholarship, and there is no way she can quit

now because she has a duty to black Zimbabwean girls who

want to dance.”

“My parents did not like my choice of career, they rather

wanted me to go to college and do a course,” says Caroline add-

ing that, “I told them to see what I can do before they judged me.

Once they came to watch my performance. It was modern and

traditional jazz. My father did not like it. He hated the costumes.”

MODE R N A N D T R A DI T IONA L | The work-

shops Caroline Tedi and Simbarashe Fulukia run

in the Harare area consist of both modern and

traditional dance. “I explain ballet as being what

white people do. If you tell them it is contemporary

dance, they will not understand,” Caroline says.

“My dream is to represent Africa and show that girls

can dance.”

MODE R N DA NC E I N Z I M B A B W E | 5 7

Family opposition aside, Caroline concedes that some of

her relatives are happy with her choice of career. Soukaina in-

terjects and says: “No, they are happy, not because of the fact

that she is dancing, but that she is overseas and can now send

back some dollars.”

MEMORY LANE

Holding workshops in Mbare, one of Harare’s oldest high

density areas, was a trip down memory lane for Simbarashe.

He grew up in the dusty, seemingly forgotten Mbare, where

participants, all beginners, marveled at the parallels between

the traditional dances they are used to and the movements in

contemporary dance.

“I started to dance when I was in my mother’s womb. I

love dancing because it is all about movement,” Simbarashe

quips, “To me dance is my life. I am ready to do anything it

takes to be a good dancer. After two years I see myself danc-

ing in a famous worldwide company like Alvin Ailey, a US

dance company.”

Simbarashe intones to the participants at one of the

workshops: “Dance is about creativity. What we are doing is

Afrofusion to preserve our African traditional dances which

tell a story when we dance. Is there anyone who has not caught

up on this rhythm?” Simbarashe asks. Silence. “Now you are

lying that there is no one!”

Unlike in other African or European countries where

dance plays a major role in the culture, dance is not yet an obvi-

ous choice of career path in Zimbabwe. For now, there are no

queues for dance classes. GK

Busani Bafana is a freelance journalist

based in Bulawayo, Zimbabwe.

Tsvangirayi Mukhwazi is a freelance photographer

based in Harare, Zimbabwe.

“ON T H E ON E H A N D, Zimbabwe is a country where the peo-

ple are deprived of their civil rights. On the other hand, it is a

country with enormous talent and in this perspective it is very

important to sustain this cooperation,” says the Norwegian co-

ordinator of the dance programme with Zimbabwe, Associate

Professor Inger Lise Eid.

The cooperation was initiated after a visit by a Zimbabwean

arts delegation in 1998. The fi rst two students came to Oslo

in 1999, and since then, four students from Zimbabwe have

followed the three-year bachelor’s programme in modern

and contemporary dance at the Oslo National College of Arts,

Faculty of Performing Arts, as well as one student who has

taken a one-year diploma in choreography.

“We believe it is important to get input from a variety of

cultural sources. We learn about other ways to live and think,”

Eid says about what the Zimbabweans bring to Norway.

Added-value is learning about traditional ways of danc-

ing, which the Zimbabweans have shared with Norwegian

students. “Traditional Zimbabwean dance is explosive and

expressive. Contemporary Zimbabwean dance has a strong

storytelling tradition, while Norwegian contemporary dance

is more conceptual in character,” Eid says. But more impor-

tantly, she stresses, is that the art of dance is an international

form of expression. It is the role of dance and performing arts

as a universal language that is emphasised at the university col-

lege.

Caroline Tedi and Simbarashe Fulukia are among several

nationalities represented in the 59 students in the three diff er-

ent bachelor’s programmes in dance. The two Zimbabweans

are due to graduate in June 2009. By participating in the pro-

gramme, they are obliged to share the knowledge they obtain

through their studies with the general public in Zimbabwe,

for example through workshops. The fi fth semester of study

will be spent as dancers in the Zimbabwean Tumbuka Dance

Company.

Caroline and Simbarashe were recruited from the only cur-

riculum in modern dance in Zimbabwe, the Dance Foundation

Course, off ered by the Dance Trust of Zimbabwe. The great-

est challenge at present for Norwegian-Zimbabwean coopera-

tion is to keep the Dance Trust running, with the fi nancial ca-

pability to sponsor a new batch of students. “We need to keep

it going, that is the perspective we have for now,” Eid says. GK

Keep On Movin’“Our Zimbabwean partners do everything they can to keep it going and we have decided to follow them on this journey.”

teresa grø tan/text

oslo, norway

5 8 |

I N DIG E NOUS P E OP L E S Ω AC A DE M IC E S S AY | 59

SI NCE T H E 19 9 0S , the indigenous peoples or ethnic mi-

norities of the oil-rich Niger Delta have protested against the

exploitation and pollution of their lands and waters by inter-

national oil companies operating in partnership with the

Nigerian state oil company – the Nigerian National Petroleum

Corporation (NNPC). Notable among the social movements

and ethnic minority organisations that embarked upon a

national and international campaign against the state-oil

partnership in the 1990s was the Movement for the Survival

of Ogoni People (MOSOP), led by the charismatic writer and

Ogoni rights activist, Ken Saro-Wiwa. He was hanged on 10

November 1995 along with eight other Ogoni activists on

the orders of a military-constituted tribunal that found them

guilty of inciting a mob to kill four of the “pro-government”

Ogoni elite, after a trial that was described internationally as

unfair (CLO 1996).

Nigeria’s return to democracy in 1999 both opened up po-

litical space in the campaign for resource control by the ethnic

minorities of the Niger Delta, and unfortunately contributed

to increased militarisation of the Niger Delta. This has also

led to the emergence of many armed groups and militias that

tapped into existing grievances and politics that has provoked

an escalation in the violence in the region from 2003 onwards.

Given the high stakes built into the state-oil linkage in

Nigeria, where oil exports account for 95 per cent of exports

earnings and over 85 per cent of national revenues, politics

continues to be infl uenced by oil. For those in power, access

to oil is the ultimate prize in the political contest – for which

they are ready to fi ght at any cost and by any means. For the

out-of-power elite, it gives them everything to fi ght for, but

AC A DE M IC E S SAY :

Resource Control in Nigeria’s Niger Delta

I N T H E DE LTA | Members of the militant group Movement for

the Emancipation of the Niger Delta (MEND). The militants cam-

paign to secure a greater share of the region’s oil wealth for local

Ijaw people. The white fl ag signifi es the Ijaw god of War, Egbesu.

Photo/Tim A. Hetherington, Panos Pictures

This essay explores the nature of the struggle by ethnic

minorities in Nigeria’s oil-rich Niger Delta for the right

to control their natural resources – particularly the pe-

troleum mined from under their lands and waters. Five

decades of oil exploitation has left the people severely

marginalised and impoverished, facing a life of aliena-

tion and dispossession as their lands are taken up

and their fragile ecosystem is polluted by the opera-

tions of the oil industry. In response, they have since

the 1990s waged a local and international struggle to

reclaim their right to the land and the resources under

it. Predictably, the oil companies have allied with the

state in its attempt to crush local resistance through

violence. In response, the resistance has evolved into

more complex, though still violent, forms.

SUMMARY

cyril obi,

researcher at the nordic africa institute, uppsala

6 0 | I N DIG E NOUS P E OP L E S Ω AC A DE M IC E S S AY

most importantly, it has contributed to the marginalisation

of most Nigerian citizens (particularly those from the Niger

Delta) from power and from the benefi ts of the oil economy,

in spite of the unprecedented earnings from oil exports since

2000. The result has been the continuation of the militarisa-

tion of the confl ict between the indigenous population and the

Nigerian federal state – which lays claim under the constitu-

tion to be the sole owner of all oil in Nigeria – for control of the

oil.

ETHNIC MINORITIES AND THE

STRUGGLE FOR LOCAL AUTONOMY

The history of the struggle for self-determination and local

autonomy by the ethnic minorities of the Niger Delta is well-

known. What is important to note is that it had its roots in

the creation of Nigeria as a colonial state in 1914, an act that

relegated the people of the region to minority status in rela-

tion to the numerically superior neighbouring ethnic groups,

which dominated political life in the old Western and Eastern

regions of Nigeria. The successive institutionalisation of

revenue-sharing and power distribution along regional lines

tended to reinforce the politicisation of ethnic identity, and its

mobilisation in the struggle for power. Smaller groups defi ned

as “ethnic minorities” tended to lose out, while the dominant

ethnic groups asserted power at both re-

gional and national levels.

The ethnic minorities did not suc-

ceed in their quest to establish separate

states before Nigeria’s independence in

1960, and opportunities to resolve fester-

ing disputes in the following years were

squandered. Even before the 1967-1970 civil war there was

an abortive attempt by a group of Ijaw ethnic minority youth

– the Niger Delta Volunteer Force (NDVF), led by Isaac Boro,

to secede from Nigeria, by declaring the Niger Delta Republic

in February 1966 in a bid to protect “Ijaw oil” (Obi 2004: 23).

Shortly before the eruption of war in 1967 between secession-

ist Biafra in the Eastern region, the four regions of Nigeria

(North, East, West and Midwest) had been abolished and

replaced with twelve states, three of which were in the ethnic

minority regions of the Niger Delta. From 12 states in 1967,

Nigeria currently has 36.

Apart from the state-creation exercise, and the centralisa-

tion of the control of oil, the method of oil revenue allocation

also changed over time. The share of oil revenues allocated to

the ethnic minority oil-producing states of the Niger Delta fell

from 50 per cent in 1966 to 1.5 per cent in the mid-1990s. It

then rose to 13 per cent in 1999, in response to international

campaigns and local protests by the minorities and the stra-

tegy of the new democratic regime to win legitimacy by at-

tending to the grievances of the oil-producing communities.

THE OGONI CAMPAIGN FOR SELF-DETERMINATION

The Ogoni are a small ethnic minority group with an esti-

mated population of 500 000 people occupying an area of 404

square miles. They have a long history of resistance to the cen-

tral government. The pressure on their land was further exac-

erbated by “the concentration of six oil fi elds, two oil refi ner-

ies, a huge fertilizer plant, petrochemical plants and an ocean

port” (Naanen 1995). This contributed to the dispossession of

many Ogoni of their land and livelihood (farming, fi shing and

hunting), without any form of redress in terms of social secu-

rity, compensation or alternative employment.

MOSOP’s campaign for Ogoni rights was encapsulated in

the 1990 Ogoni Bill of Rights (OBR) which demanded among

other things, “the control of Ogoni resources for Ogoni de-

velopment, political autonomy, compensation for decades of

exploitation of Ogoni oil and oil pollution, and the right to

protect the Ogoni environment and ecology from further deg-

radation”. MOSOP deliberately targeted Shell in its globalised

campaign against the depredations of the big oil concerns

(Obi 2001; Robinson 1996). Shell was chosen because it was

the largest onshore oil operator, the biggest oil partner of the

Nigerian state and the fi rst oil multination-

al to start operations in the Niger Delta,

with a history dating back to 1938. One of

MOSOP’s fi rst ports of call in its interna-

tional campaign was the Unrepresented

Nations and Peoples Organisation (UNPO)

in The Hague, Netherlands.

MOSOP adopted a strategy of welding its local grievances

onto local and global discourse on the rights of indigenous

peoples and minority rights, environmental and human

rights, and self-determination. MOSOP activists expected that

once Shell’s involvement in human rights and environmental

abuses in the Niger Delta was exposed in Europe, the United

States and the rest of the world, the movement would gain the

international leverage to force Shell and the Nigerian govern-

ment to respect Ogoni rights, and that other oil multination-

als would then follow suit. Subsequent events however did not

match such expectations, as the state-oil partnership, alarmed

at the eff ectiveness of MOSOP’s campaign abroad, hit back.

MOSOP was forced to retreat after the 1995 hangings and the

military siege of Ogoniland (Obi 2005).

THE IJAW CAMPAIGN FOR RESOURCE CONTROL

Following MOSOP’s retreat, the space for protest and resist-

ance was taken up by other ethnic minority groups in the

Niger Delta. In 1997, the Ijaw adopted a twin-pronged strategy

For those in power, access to oil is the ultimate prize in the political

contest – for which they are ready to fi ght at any cost and by any means.

I N DIG E NOUS P E OP L E S Ω AC A DE M IC E S S AY | 61

– both based on their right as an “oil-producing” ethnic minor-

ity, and as an indigenous people in an oil-rich, but impover-

ished region. The fi rst prong hinged on the generational factor,

with youths taking up the mantle of the struggle and demand-

ing for the right of Ijaws to control the oil resources under their

land and waters, just as the Ogoni had demanded. The second

was led by the Ijaw elite, which felt that they had been unfairly

excluded from the benefi ts from the oil produced by their re-

gion. While the former led to the emergence of an organisa-

tion called the Ijaw Youth Congress (IYC) in 1998, the latter

remained within the Ijaw National Congress (INC). In some

sense, the IYC was a generational critique levelled against the

perceived ineff ectiveness of the mainstream INC.

The IYC was formed following the meeting of the All-Ijaw

Youth Conference of representatives from

over 40 Ijaw clans located across the Niger

Delta in Kaiama, Bayelsa state. On the

basis of the Kaiama Declaration, the IYC

demanded that all international oil com-

panies should leave the Niger Delta by 30

December 1998. It mobilised the Ijaw peo-

ple under the slogan of “Operation Climate Change” using

rallies and cultural processions known locally as Ogele, while

also appealing to the local deity and Ijaw god of war and jus-

tice, Egbesu, to bless their cause.

Rather than respond to their demands or invite them for

dialogue, the military state governor declared a state of emer-

gency and federal soldiers, navy personnel and riot police were

brought in. Lives were lost, many were injured and property

destroyed. The IYC-led protest was crushed by the state, but

it could not extinguish the quest by the Ijaw and many other

indigenous minority groups for the control of their land and

the oil under it – through a campaign which, after Nigeria re-

turned to democratic rule in May 1999, became known as the

“struggle for resource control”.

DEEPENED TENSIONS IN THE NIGER DELTA

Growing youth unemployment, extreme poverty, perceived

discriminatory employment practices against indigenes by

oil companies and socio-economic grievances have deepened

the existing tensions in the Niger Delta. The agitation of eth-

nic minorities was partly because the economic crises and re-

forms had deepened the exploitation and impoverishment of

the Niger Delta, while the democratic institutions had failed

to address the roots of the widespread grievances in the re-

gion.

Even worse was the ambivalence and greed of the local

elite and political class, that sought to harness the anger at

the grassroots level to put pressure on the Federal State for

increased oil revenue allocations, but at the same time remov-

ing support from genuinely popular groups and social move-

ments. They also co-opted armed groups into their personal

political ambitions by using such militia to rig elections and

intimidate voters and the opposition. The region witnessed

unprecedented violence from both the military and the armed

youth militia – all of it linked to oil (International Crisis Group

2006; Kemedi 2006; Obi 2007).

Of note is the metamorphosis of the rights struggle of

the indigenous Ijaw into a markedly violent phase since late

2005. Extreme armed elements such as the Movement for the

Emancipation of the Niger Delta (MEND), which shocked the

world with its globally publicised kidnappings of expatriate

oil workers and its bombing of the off shore EA oil fi eld on 11

January 2006, have emerged both as a response to and an off -

shoot of the zero-sum approach to inequi-

table power and social relations. MEND fol-

lowed this action with further spectacular

bomb attacks on oil installations and has

kidnapped expatriate oil workers as a way

of attracting international attention to its

cause. Since 2006 over one hundred for-

eign oil workers have been kidnapped (and later released) in

the Niger Delta.

MEND’s militant insurgency draws upon ethnic minority

Ijaw identity, a deep sense of grievance, and is buoyed by sup-

port from various sources and the “righteousness of the cause”.

According to its spokesperson, Jomo Gbomo, “We are asking

for justice. We want our land, and the Nigerian government to

transfer all its involvement in the oil industry to host commu-

nities” (Saharareporters 2007). Some recent sources estimate

that there are thousands of well-armed militants in the Niger

Delta. These militants have been able to force a 27 per cent

cut in Nigeria’s oil exports, sending shockwaves through the

global oil market that is already under immense pressure from

the crisis in the Middle East and the Gulf, growing demand,

and concerns about “peak oil” and energy security.

NIGERIA’S RETURN TO DEMOCRACY

It is not possible to understand the dynamics of the struggles

of the popular movements of the indigenous ethnic minorities

of the Niger Delta outside of the struggle for the democrati-

sation of the Nigerian state. A quest for democracy under-

lines the desire for local autonomy and the control of oil in

the Niger Delta. It also refl ects in the social character of the

struggle, in which movements organised around ethnic iden-

tities and solidarities, using a history of struggle, traditional

indigenous metaphors and symbols, protest against and resist

transnational oil exploitation. The key issues are the demands

for local autonomy, and the control of oil for the benefi t of the

people of the Niger Delta.

Since 2006 over one hundred foreign oil workers have been kid-napped (and later released) in the

Niger Delta.

6 2 | I N DIG E NOUS P E OP L E S Ω AC A DE M IC E S S AY

The discussion above provides a frame-

work for understanding the centrality of

oil politics to the spiralling violence and

its far-reaching international ramifi ca-

tions. But more fundamentally, oil is the

whetstone of Nigerian politics – the object

and target of the zero-sum struggles be-

tween the various factions of the Nigerian

elite, that seek to capture and retain power at any cost, as a

guarantee for monopoly control of vast oil resources, person-

al wealth, patronage and access to the global political economy.

Any challenge to federal monopoly control of oil has been re-

buff ed, often with force, and since the return to civilian rule

in 1999, initially peaceful calls for a re-negotiation of federal

control of oil and resistance against the continued exercise of

that control has assumed more militant forms, particularly af-

ter the failure of the 2005 constitutional conference to address

the demands of representatives of the Niger Delta region for a

25 per cent share of the proceeds from the oil.

CONCLUSION: INDIGNITY, DEMOCRACY

AND CITIZENSHIP

The foregoing shows the complex linkages between oil and the

politics of the indigenous ethnic minorities of the people of

the Niger Delta. The root of the confl ict is the alienation of the

people from the proceeds and full benefi ts of the oil produced

from under their land and waters by the Nigerian federal state

– to which they belong. The bone of contention therefore is the

inequality of access to oil, the denial of full citizenship rights

(equality of access, social justice, opportunity and political

representation) and the alienation of the oil-producing region

from its oil, which is controlled by a distant federal govern-

ment (based in Abuja), dominated by elites from the (non-oil

producing) ethnic majority groups. Yet there are contradic-

tions within the Niger Delta elite and the ranks of the indige-

nous people of the region. However, the crux of the matter lies

in the dangerous conjuncture of the highly centralised control

of oil by a transnational and trans-local partnership and its

wanton subversion of democracy since 1999, that has eviscer-

ated all eff orts towards the expression and imposition of the

democratic will of the people, including the representation of

the interests of their communities and the democratisation of

the inequitable social relations of oil production.

The way ahead for Nigeria lies in a return to the principles

of true democracy and a more decentralised form of Nigerian

federalism. There is also a need to address the high levels of

youth unemployment and the poor state of social infrastruc-

ture, education and access to basic services, particularly in

relation to clean water, health, and transportation. There also

has to be a thorough process of building trust and a de-milita-

risation of Niger Delta society at all levels.

An important aspect of sustainable peace is

the need for international oil companies to

change their ethos of placing profi ts before

people, to abide by international standards

for environmental sustainability and fi nan-

cial transparency, and to refrain from the

use of the military in their oil operations

in the Niger Delta. Ultimately, it is only when the democratic

and citizenship rights of the indigenes of the Niger Delta are

underpinned by a socially just and participatory social con-

tract between them and a popular democratic Nigerian nation

state that sustainable peace will return to the region.

references

Civil Liberties Organisation (CLO) (1996) Ogoni: Trials and Travails, Lagos: CLO.

International Crisis Group (ICG) (2006) The Swamps of Insurgency: Nigeria’s Delta Unrest, Africa Report No. 115-3, August.

Kemedi, von Dimieari (2006) “Fuelling the Violence: Non-State Armed Actors (Militia, Cults, and Gangs) in the Niger Delta”, Institute of International Studies, University of California, Berkeley, The United States Institute for Peace, Washington DC, or Niger Delta, Port Harcourt: Niger Delta Economies of Violence Working Paper no. 10.

Naanen, B. (1995) “Oil producing Minorities and the Restructuring of Nigerian Federalism: The Case of Ogoni People”, Journal of Commonwealth and Comparative Politics, Issue 33.1.

Obi, C. (2001) The Changing Forms of Identity Politics in Nigeria Under Economic Adjustment: The Case of the Oil Minorities Movement of the Niger Delta, research report no. 119, Uppsala: Nordic Africa Institute.

Obi, C. (2004) The Oil Paradox: Refl ections on the Violent Dynamics of Petro-Politics and (Mis) Governance in Nigeria’s Niger Delta, Pretoria: African Institute Occasional Paper no. 73.

Obi, C. (2005) Environmental Movements in Sub-Saharan Africa: A Political Ecology of Power and Confl ict, Civil Society and Social Movements Paper no. 15, Geneva: United Nations Research Institute for Social Development (UNRISD).

Obi, C. (2007) “The Struggle for Resource Control in a Petro-state: A Perspective from Nigeria”, in P. Bowles, et al; National Perspectives on Globalisation, Hampshire and New York: Palgrave Macmillan.

Robinson, D. (1996) Ogoni: The Struggle Continues, Geneva and Nairobi: World Council of Churches and All-Africa Conference of Churches.

Saharareporters (2007) “Interview with Jomo Gbomo: We will Soon Stop Nigerian Oil Exports”, August 1, http://saharareporters.com/www/interview

Saro-Wiwa, K. (1995) A Month and a Day, London: Penguin Books.

It is not possible to understand the struggles of the indigenous

ethnic minorities of the Niger Delta outside of the struggle

for the democratisation of the Nigerian state.