By Michael Deibert
The "Kony 2012" campaign and accompanying film
advocate -- via technological assistance, training and the presence of United
States military personnel throughout Central Africa -- for military support of
the government of Ugandan President Yoweri Museveni, ostensibly to facilitate
the arrest of Joseph
Kony, the leader of the
Lord's Resistance Army (LRA) rebel group and an accused war criminal indicted
by the International Criminal Court.
To anyone who has spent time in Central
Africa in general and Uganda in particular, this appears to be a road fraught
with peril. In response to several requests that I elaborate further on the
problems of this approach and a possibly more constructive approach, I offer
the following.
There are several instances of blatant
dishonesty in the film that immediately catch one's eye and trouble one's
conscience.
The first is the inference that in the Uganda of today thousands of children are continuing their grim sojourns as night commuters to escape the violence of the LRA. With the LRA's presence in Northern Uganda having essentially evaporated by the end of 2006, the use of images of the bodies of thousands of sleeping children -- who may or may not have consented to be filmed -- attempts to convince the viewer that the crisis of overt violence in Northern Uganda is ongoing, and thus necessitating direct military action. As the organization spent $1,859,617 on travel and filmmaking last year (out of total expenses of $8,894,630) one would think Invisible Children could have shown a more current (and accurate) picture of Northern Uganda and the organizations there working to improve it.
Also troubling is the film's depiction of
Lieutenant Okot Santo Lapolo. A Museveni loyalist who serves as a Resident
District Commissioner (RDC) in the Acholi region, Santo Lapolo is perhaps
better known for harassing and threatening government critics in the press in the region than
opining on human rights. When Invisible Children interview him, however, Santo
Lapolo is described simply as a "politician," with no mention of his
role as an éminence gris for the regime.
This is alas part and parcel of the film's
and the organization's whitewashing of the highly tortured history and legacy
of the Museveni government in Central Africa, a government that has done some
good things for the country but which also, through reckless military
adventurism and a hunger to retain power, has routinely trampled on the values
of human rights that Invisible Children claims to champion.
The Museveni government has been
undergoing a serious crisis of legitimacy since at least 2001, when the Supreme
Court of Uganda, while upholding the vote in presidential elections that year,
also foundthat "the principle of free and fair election was
compromised." The situation deteriorated further in 2006 when elections
were marked by what observers called "serious irregularities and significant
shortcomings." In 2011 elections, the National Resistance Movement -- Museveni's
political party -- handed out money and gifts, intimidated political opponents
and in general behaved in a way that seriously called into question the
validity of the final results.
Over the last year, large scale protests
against alleged political corruption and economic mismanagement have occurred
in Uganda's capital, Kampala, many aligned with the Forum for Democratic Change
led by Kizza Besigye, a doctor and former soldier as well as a former Museveni
ally-turned-critic. Government security forces have treated the protests
brutally, with at least 10 people dying and several hundred disappearing into
jail during the demonstrations last year.
Beyond Congo's borders, in addition to its
military actions in Somalia (where Uganda's army is essentially fighting a
proxy war for Western powers against Islamist militias in that country,)
Uganda's army also still has yet to answer for its actions following its late
1990s invasion of the Democratic Republic of Congo (then Zaire) alongside Rwanda
and a hastily-cobbled together Congolese rebel movement.
In the wars that followed, the Museveni
government was the key military backer of the Mouvement de libération du Congo
(MLC), a Congolese rebel movement led by Jean-Pierre Bemba, who is currently ontrial at the International Criminal Court at the Hague --
the same body that indicted Kony -- for crimes against humanity and war crimes.
In addition to the MLC, the Museveni
government also actively supported a faction of the Rassemblement Congolais
pour la Démocratie (RCD) and the Union des Patriotes Congolais (UPC), both of
whom were implicated in the grossest human rights abuses. One former UPC
chieftain, Thomas Lubanga, is currently on trial at the Hague, charged with
using child soldiers, while another former leader of the group, Bosco
Ntaganda, nicknamed The
Terminator and also an indicted war criminal, is now a power broker in the
eastern Congolese province of North Kivu and a lynchpin of the regional détente
between Congolese President Joseph Kabila (himself re-elected in a
controversial ballot last year) and Museveni's erstwhile ally-turned-rival, Rwanda
President Paul Kagame.
Then there is the history of high-level
attempts to crush the LRA itself.
In December 2008, seventeen U.S. military
advisers provided logistics, communications, and intelligence support for the
Ugandan and Congolese army's Operation Lightning Thunder, an attempt to nab Kony which failed. In the weeks
that followed, the LRA descended on several Congolese villages, killing hundreds of people and kidnapping over 100 children from
communities left defenseless against the LRA's desire for vengeance.
What is the system of protection that
Invisible Children advocates for communities such as these put in the line of
fire by the military operations the group advocates? Invisible Children is
silent on this score.
This, then, is the context that Invisible
Children advocates further militarizing.
Complicating matters still further, the
push for an increased military presence in Central Africa comes after the
discovery of one billion barrels of potential oil reserves in the country, with
an estimated 1 to 1.5 billion barrels yet to be located.
Last month, London-based Tullow Oil signed two $2.9 billion production sharing agreements with the Museveni government, despite the fact that
Uganda's parliament had concluded that there should be a complete moratorium on
oil-related activity until new laws were put in place (Uganda's Petroleum
Exploration and Production Act dates from 1985). Security for the installations
is being provided by a military unit closely linked to the president.
Reactions to the Invisible Children
campaign from Uganda itself have been telling.
Writing in the newspaper The Independent,
Ugandan writer Musa Okwonga suggested that Invisible Children should have let their viewers
know that "when a bad guy like Kony is running riot for years on end,
raping and slashing and seizing and shooting, then there is most likely another
host of bad guys out there letting him get on with it. "
On the Project Diaspora site, one writer accused Invisible Children of being
"a self-aware machine that must continually find a reason to be
relevant....selling themselves as the issue, as the subject, as the panacea for
everything that ails me as the agency-devoid African. "
How Invisible Children can push for the
measures it has and remain eligible for tax-exempt status as an organization
under section 501(c)(3) of the Internal Revenue Code -- which states that such an organization may not participate in any
campaign activity for or against political candidates -- would seem to remain
something a mystery.
A refrain that is often repeated by
Invisible Children's supporters is that the organization's goal is not to
"get bogged down by history" but rather to "raise
awareness" thus leading to "action." But what kind of action can
come in Central Africa if one ignores the region's history?
So then, the line of reasoning goes, what
is to be done? If not by supporting Invisible Children's campaign --
intentional or not -- to reinforce the Museveni government's hold on power,
then how can those who have been inspired and moved by the plight of those
suffering in Central Africa ameliorate the situation of those in greatest need?
Despite living under a rapidly ossifying
authoritarianism, Uganda still has a vibrant civil society made up of and
working for the empowerment of Ugandans, with a number of organizations that
are worthy of any support we can give them.
In Northern Uganda itself, the group Human
Rights Focus has
labored for years and produced detailed reports on the the conflict there far
more nuanced and accurate than anything Invisible Children has ever put out.
Elsewhere, as government officials and
foreign investors lick their lips at the promise of an oil boom, groups such as
the Africa Institute for Energy Governance and the Water Governance Institute are doing important work to hold both Uganda's
politicians and their foreign partners accountable to the Ugandan people.
Further afield, in the Democratic Republic
of Congo, groups such as the Goma-based Pole Institute and the late, heroic Floribert Chebeya's Voix
des Sans-Voix work
to defend the rights of the Congolese under the most difficult of conditions.
These are organizations led by people who
risk their lives every day standing up to the Musevenis, the Kagames and the
Kabilas of the world.
Likewise, by working with local
organizations to strengthen the government of South Sudan, a region that the
LRA long used as a redoubt and whose rapid disintegration the group is no doubt
praying for to give it another refuge closer to home, would also be an
extremely productive use of the time of those outside of the region who wish to
help.
If the people who have been moved by the
Kony 2012 campaign truly want to help Africa, they must start by learning about
and supporting the struggles of the Africans themselves. This is their fight,
this is their history, these are their countries. Not ours. The citizens of
Africa must write their own future from within their own borders. We cannot
do it for them.
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