For the estimated 20 million refugees and 25 million internally displaced people worldwide, well-planned settlements can help to maximise their protection and security, and support them to minimise the spread of disease, manage natural resources sustainably, and maintain good relations with their hosts until durable solutions are achieved. The result of extensive consultations with a wide range of specialist organisations, this book takes a holistic view of shelter for displaced populations, extending beyond refugee camps to consider support for all of the settlement and shelter options open to displaced people.

In a significant step forward for IDPs’ rights to restitution, the Principles on Housing and Property Restitution for Refugees and Displaced Persons were endorsed by the UN Subcommission on Human Rights at its annual session held in Geneva in August. The Principles reflect standards of international human rights, refugee and humanitarian law. They also take stock of best practices developed in previous post-conflict restitution policies and programmes. The Principles emphasise the right to restitution and envisage compensation in certain circumstances, in particular where restitution is factually impossible or when peace settlements provide for a combination of the two.

Standing underneath a huge shade tree in Yari, south Sudan, António Guterres told villagers that the UN High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) is doing its best to help with schools and health centres so that people who fled 21 years of civil war between southern rebels and the Khartoum Government can come home and stay home. But more international funds are needed to develop the desperately poor region, he said. He drew a clear link between development aid, economic growth and peace for a long-tortured region where even today landmines still deface the landscape and claim lives.

In answer to your editorial on John Garang, I beg to differ: This account is pretty one sided, and romanticised. Garang was also a warhorse, and a warlord, who would probably not have made the transition, over time, to a post-war Sudan. It wasnt really in his interests, or within his capabilities, to do so. What experience did he have of being a peacetime political leader? Did he know any other kind of reality, other than a wartime one? Why did he not allow any other southerner to take power within the SPLA/M? Everyone knows he ruthlessly dealt with those who challenged his leadership, hence the vacuum faced now within the movement. That is not the democratic way. How many deaths - including those of southern Sudanese - can be placed at his door?

Quite a good edition. Keep it up.

This issue of Interim Developments reports on the UNDP-UNESCO Joint Programme internships for young Africans in the Diaspora, profiles a London recruitment event for professionals for Africa, reports on the Diageo Africa Business Reporting Awards, highlights Professor Wangari Maathai's address to an Africa Diaspora conference and conducts an exclusive interview with South Africa's Institute of People Management on the country's unique human resources challenges.

Thanks for the attempt to shorten the newsletter for those of us who can't download so much information.

Do African presidents have a life after they leave office? asks Henning Melber. For many years in post-independence Africa, the image of African leaders was of ‘Big Men’ who could only be removed from office by their own death. But a recent shift shows an increasing number of leaders who hand over presidential powers voluntarily. In June this year the African Statesmen Initiative was launched in Mali’s capital Bamako with several elder statesmen committing to democratic ideals. The positive trend does not necessarily mean that anti-democratic tendencies have been banished, writes Melber.

Retired African Heads of State seem to emerge in ever-bigger numbers as a new species on the continent. Opting out of office more or less voluntarily, they are seeking an active role and requiring a defined task for their remaining years. “Is there life after presidency?” asked BBC Africa Live of its web site visitors in mid-2005. The numerous responses showed not only a strong interest in the issue but also offered the whole panorama of possible views, including the few selected ones below:

- “Presidents are people too. The life after presidency should be retirement.” (Ghana)
- “Former presidents should be respected because of what they did for a country. However at the same time, when Mugabe becomes a former president, my views will change.” (Zimbabwe)
- “There is always life and prosperity for presidents in Africa because most of them are thieves.” (UK)
- “Oh yes, there is life after the presidency. In fact a far better life … compared to the presidency. For example, you get to sleep peacefully at night (don’t have to worry about whether your army is plotting to oust you the next morning); you become a well respected statesman (provided you left office voluntarily … poor Charles Taylor), and the lot. Life after the presidency in Africa is like life after death – although no one has ever died (please, don’t count Jesus) and come back to give account of what it is like at the other end. However, the good news is that Africa is on the right path. At least we are beginning to count Africa’s former presidents who left office constitutionally. And it should send a very strong positive message to sitting-presidents that … yes, there is in fact very good life after the presidency, given you kept your promises to the best of your ability.” (Liberia)

By the end of the 20th century the notion of the ‘Big Men’ was still considered to be part of a neo-patrimonial system, in which ‘disorder’ was qualified as ‘political instrument’. Patrick Chabal and Jean-Pascal Daloz maintain in their provoking book ‘Africa Works’ that the “ultimate ambition of those who have power is most often to establish their standing as Big Men. Such standing is, by its very nature, subjective and can only be achieved within a context of personalized relations where clients, or dependants, will ensure its recognition. It is not, therefore, sufficient to be acknowledged as the supreme political ruler. It is also necessary to be recognized as the primus inter pares among all Big Men.”

African rulers, according to the dominant perception up until the early 1990s, do not vacate their office alive. The 1990 presidential address to the African Studies Association of the U.K., delivered by A.H. Kirk-Greene and published in ‘African Affairs’ (no. 359, 1991) presented some striking arithmetic to illustrate the point. By then, the mean duration in power of leadership in 17 African states (a third of the continent) was 25 years. The ‘for life’ image associated with African rulers contrasted however with the brevity of the rule of others, with no fewer than twenty in office for less than a year. At the end of 1988 the continental average duration of office for the 158 African leaders recorded as head of government in 50 states since 1960 was calculated at 3.1 years. But the assumption pertained that the shorter periods in office were attributed almost exclusively to the incumbents’ departure from this world. A.H. Kirk-Greene therefore concluded: “If my question of ‘What Happened to the President Afterwards’? has been overlooked in the literature, this may largely be due to the indisputable fact that, unless one is talking of a meta-physical after-life, in nine cases out of ten it is a rhetorical question; there was no Afterwards.”

But soon thereafter, this notion was challenged on the basis of the empirical reality. Instead, it was suggested that the question requires rephrasing, since the (former) heads of state were not as passive as the ‘what happened to’ formulation implied. The more apposite question for many may be ‘What did the President do Afterwards?’ rather than what happened to him. Indeed quite a number of them – in contrast to the widely held perception – did have a life after their term(s) in office. As a presentation by J.H. Polhemus to the 15th annual conference of the African Studies Association of Australia and the Pacific in 1992 concluded: “…a substantial number of individuals, … notwithstanding a wide variation in style, personality and psychology, had the unusual qualities required to become a head of state or government and … on leaving office, faced the questions of what to do with what remained of a life which had to that point been characterized by power, purpose, and not to put too fine a point on it, position and privilege.”

The recent shift in trends in presidential transitions on the continent is highlighted by the increasing number of those who more or less voluntarily hand over presidential powers while still being in rather good physical shape and mental health. A recently compiled overview for the book volume on ‘Presidential Transitions and the Role of Ex-Presidents’ (to be published by the Human Sciences Research Council in South Africa before the end of 2005), registered a total of 204 African presidents in office between 1960 and 2004. More than half of them were overthrown, which confirms the earlier assumptions. Only 25 cases (or 12%) were classified as voluntary retirements. But significantly so, 17 (or three quarters) of these took place since 1990 alone, and since 2000 there were eight such cases, amounting in the last five years to one third of all voluntary departures from office in the 45-year period recorded.

In the light of such an emerging new trend, the question posed by Polhemus in his 1992 paper remains more valid than ever. He asked whether an increasing number of “African heads of state will follow the eminent person path upon their retirement from political office, rising above narrow national politics.” As he suggested: “For some it would seem to be an attractive way of putting their talents to good use and minimizing the pangs of withdrawal from a life of prominence and importance.”

The birth of an African Statesmen Initiative, launched in Mali’s capital Bamako in the presence of 15 former heads of state in June 2005, is an almost logical result of the needs to (re-)define the role of ex-presidents. With the support of several international institutions the elder statesmen (indeed still all men) agreed on a remarkable document with far reaching statements in terms of their political ideals. The ‘Bamako Declaration of the African Statesmen Initiative’ adopted on 8 June stated among others:

“We believe that democracy is the sole form of government that permits the development of the range of national institutions needed to ensure sustainable peace, security, economic growth and social well-being. We applaud the spread of democratic values and respect for the rights of citizens in a growing number of African countries. We commit ourselves to continuing to use our good offices to foster dialogue and the peaceful resolution of the continent's conflicts, and to promote human security and democratic models of government that offer citizens the opportunity to choose their leaders freely and participate fully in the political life of their countries.”

The document went further to say:

- “We welcome the future participation of outgoing heads of state and government in efforts to promote democratic principles, good governance, and human security and development through individual and collective action.”

- “We affirm that changes of power and political succession should always be based on constitutional rule and democratic principles.”

- “We affirm the special responsibility of former heads of state and government to support the development of strong, well functioning legislative and judicial bodies, as well as other public institutions to ensure public accountability.”

These are clearly new tones, though one is curious to see how big or small the discrepancy between rhetoric and reality this time turns out to be. The Organisation of African Unity (OAU) was often referred to as little more than a self-serving club for African presidents. Its existence was premised upon the mutual convenience of ‘non-interference in the affairs of sovereign states’, a doctrine that provided cover for authoritarian and despotic regimes throughout the continent.

In contrast, the launch of the African Union (AU) in 2002/2003 resulted in the subsequent institutionalisation of a visible (though not yet always consequently applied) political will to exercise more collective responsibility over the policy of member states, whose systems and their (lack of) delivery fail to respect the minimum standards as defined in the new AU Constitution. This includes sanctions against those who claim to represent their countries without a minimum of legitimacy. It is an indication that the present generation of African leaders – one which is more subject to pressures for democracy at home and for ‘good governance’ internationally – will be more prepared to police regimes which offend against international norms, rights and laws.

This also offers, as the African Statesmen Initiative signals, a more constructive role for retired presidents to make a continued positive contribution on the continent, including an active participation in conflict mediation and other forms of political negotiations and diplomatic brokerage. They might also pursue a variety of advocacy roles on other burning issues, such as further awareness creation concerning HIV/AIDS or lobby work to mobilize for meeting other challenges on the continent to achieve a more decent living and secure a better future for its people.

But notwithstanding the odd light at the end of the tunnel, progress is uneven. While recent interventions concerning political leadership issues in Togo and the Ivory Coast show the political will to collectively pursue the notion of ‘good governance’ in certain cases, the continued passivity with regard to Zimbabwe and the rampaging dictator Mugabe remains a scandal.

In Botswana, Ken Good, a Professor of Political Studies at the local university for 15 years, presented in March 2005 to a departmental seminar a critical analysis of the presidential succession in the country (drafted as a chapter to the book currently in print). He was served with an arbitrary notice from the authorities declaring him a prohibited immigrant on the grounds of being considered a risk to national security. Upon intervention and appeal, the Constitutional Court ruled that the President has the power vested in his office to do so without offering any further reasons. After this verdict, the 72-year old was handcuffed in court, prevented from talking to his lawyer and deported the very same day. He was denied the chance to say good-bye to his teenage daughter.

Only two weeks later, on 13 June 2005, five African Presidents met their fellow Head of State George W. Bush in Washington, DC. The US President welcomed the same Festus Mogae of Botswana, who had just abused his presidential authority to get rid of an unwanted academic, together with John Kufuor (Ghana), Armando Guebuza (Mozambique), Namibia’s President Hifikepunye Pohamba and Mamadou Tandja of Niger to the White House. According to the official announcement, this initiative was to “highlight the value that the United States places on supporting democracy across Africa. President Bush looks forward to recognize these countries’ successes at holding free and fair elections last year”.

The question still begs to be answered of whether this illustrates progress in democratic transition on the one side (of the invited guests), or a lack of democratic sensitivity on the side of the host. As so often, the answer might lie somewhere in between, if one considers the way elections were conducted not too long ago in the North American federal states of Florida and Ohio, which were to a large extent decisive in the ‘democratic’ process to a) bring the current president into office, and b) to keep him there. After all, political office bearers all over the world tend to be not as different or remote from each other as the geographical distance might suggest.

* Dr. Henning Melber is Research Director at The Nordic Africa Institute in Uppsala/Sweden. This essay is a revised part of an introduction to a book volume on Presidential Transitions and the Role of Ex-Presidents in Africa, co-edited with Roger Southall and to be published by the Human Sciences Research Council in South Africa.

* Please send comments to

The media is replete with images from Niger of dying children grappling with emaciated breasts that have long dried from starvation.The famine in Niger exposes the sham of G8 pledges to end poverty in Africa during and after their recent meeting in Gleneagles, Scotland and the complicity of those aid agencies who said not a word about this when they had accesses to millions of viewers watching geriatric jives during the Live8 concerts.

There is evidence that G8 leaders and international agencies (www.dec.org.uk) knew about the crisis brewing in Niger for nearly a year. They must have known that at the same time in Niamey shops and markets were (and are still) flooded with food for the rich.

Why were G8 leaders and international agencies silent? Why was the issue not raised by them at the G8 meetings? Conspiracy theorists may have a viable case for suggesting that the famine was “delayed” as a media event: that a famine in the middle of a G8 summit would have been an embarrassing example of how G8 policies are responsible for denying people food so that they slowly wither and die.

People don’t voluntarily starve themselves to death. Famine has clear early warning signals. Populations are made more vulnerable to famine by inequities in the global order like unfair terms of trade, onerous debt and skewed aid, to say nothing of the sheer looting of wealth by the West.

In our edition at the time of the G8 summit (see http://www.pambazuka.org/index.php?id=28865), we argued that “economic and social policies of African countries have been subverted to serve the interests of the west - the repayment of debt, and the opening up of countries to the needs of voracious international capital.” In short, Africa is not poor because of some freak of circumstance, but because the continent had been systematically looted. Yet the silence over this looting persists – as does the silence over its endgame such as the famine in Niger, and the growing crisis in Mali.

If famine is avoidable, if existing policies maintained by rich countries contribute to famine, then surely there is a strong case to be made that those responsible for these policies be held accountable: that in a very real sense, famine is a crime against humanity.

And if what has happened to people in Niger should be viewed as a crime against humanity, then – at the very least - shouldn't the silence of G8 leaders and international agencies be viewed as acts of complicity?

Links to more reading on Niger:
- Humanitarian Policy Group Briefing Paper
http://www.odi.org.uk/hpg/papers/HPGBriefingNote4.pdf
- Don't let Niger overshadow hunger in Mali
http://www.alertnet.org/thenews/newsdesk/L02209618.htm
- IMF and EU are blamed for starvation
http://news.independent.co.uk/europe/article302913.ece
- Does US Care About Niger Now?
http://www.zmag.org/content/showarticle.cfm?SectionID=2&ItemID=8404

Human rights organisations have documented a global crackdown on civil liberties since the war on terror began, as governments implement legislation related to the monitoring of citizens, powers of arrest and detention without trial. The age-old battle between repression and freedom is nothing new, write Tristen Taylor and Simon Delaney, and nowhere is this tension more apparent than in the fundamental right to protest. In South Africa, a much-hailed constitution should guarantee that right, but in reality a complex web of laws govern who can gather where and when. What is usually overlooked, they argue, is that either individuals have the right to assembly because it is an intrinsic human right or because it has been granted to them. If it is the later then its time to be afraid…

Protest is at the heart of working for change; nothing disturbs the great and powerful like people on the streets. Marches bring forth visions of another storming of the Bastille or the Rose Revolution redux. Nerves are stretched as tens of thousands move with one voice against a government, corporation or even an individual. When people gather and demonstrate, they are tapping into the awesome potential of ordinary people working together; they are no longer divided and atomised.

Hardly surprising then that governments, throughout recorded history, have sought to limit the ability of people to gather; to restrict the right to assembly; to deny the freedom to congregate. In the unrelenting war between repression and freedom - a conflict that has been going on at least since “freedom” was inscribed - kings, queens, dictators, presidents and other assorted overlords have used all means possible, legal or otherwise, to prevent the people from mobilising, and especially in public. And for good reason.

One thousand potential revolutionaries sitting in their homes, isolated and separated from potential comrades, are (and cannot be more than) bitter individuals with nothing to do besides rage in utter impotence at the TV, radio or newspaper. One thousand activists chanting as they run towards the guarded gates of political and economic power are not only a problem, they could be the beginnings of major change and the end of privilege for the few. At minimum, some bureaucrat's day will be ruined.

Across the globe, demonstrations are being banned, limited, and herded into “free speech” cages. Demonstrators are being greeted with batons, rubber bullets, arbitrary detention, water cannons, tear gas, cavalry charges, tanks, live ammunition, and man's best friend mentally and physically tortured into hate with fangs and fur.

But not in South Africa. South Africa has a constitution that protects the rights of its citizens. We are enlightened and progressive. Right?

The South African Constitution states, in the Bill of Rights (Chapter 2, Section 17), that “Everyone has the right, peacefully and unarmed, to assemble, to demonstrate, to picket and to present petitions.” The supreme law of the land, what is supposed to be an expression of the most fundamental rights a human being can have, says that you (and all your friends) can get together and protest against (or for), well, just about anything, as long as you're not carrying an AK or stomping on other human beings.

Yet, affirming (or granting, depending on your point of view) a right to assembly is not the same as enabling or allowing individuals to exercise that right. In other words, there's more to the story than a constitution. For example, Article 125 of the Constitution of the USSR states:

“In conformity with the interests of the working people, and in order to strengthen the socialist system, the citizens of the U.S.S.R. are guaranteed by law: a) freedom of speech; b) freedom of the press; c) freedom of assembly, including the holding of mass meetings; d) freedom of street processions and demonstrations.”

And, further to that, it addresses (also in Article 125) the practical difficulties in the exercise of these rights:

“These civil rights are ensured by placing at the disposal of the working people and their organizations printing presses, stocks of paper, public buildings, the streets, communications facilities and other material requisites for the exercise of these rights.”

The irony is as bitter as regret. Under Uncle Joe's leadership, saying or writing what you wanted was apt to get you sent to Kolyma and a cold, hungry death. As for demonstrating against the Soviet Government, nine grams to the back of the head.

South Africa, to point out the obvious, is not the USSR under Stalin. However, the example of the USSR shows there can be a major and fundamental discord between a state's promises and its actions.

While dissent in South Africa isn't rewarded with ten years in a gulag, the Constitution is not matched by what is in South Africa's law on gatherings. How, where, when and why individuals gather is limited and defined, both in theory and practice, by the Regulation of Gatherings Act (RGA) No. 205 of 1993 (commenced 1996). This act defines the shape, size and location of protests. For example, if sixteen (or more) individuals want to protest at the same location they have to receive permission from the police; if they don't, the demonstration is unlawful. Under fifteen, no permission is needed, unless, of course, the protesters want to demonstrate within 100 metres of a court building, or near the Union Buildings or parliament; permission is needed to approach your elected representatives. Wear a mask (for example, dress up as a clown or Father Christmas) and you are liable to be arrested for contravening the Gatherings Act or the Prohibition of Disguises Act No. 16 of 1969.

As for demonstrating on private property (in a shopping mall, for example), that requires the owner's permission (the Trespass Act of 1959 supersedes the RGA). So, for example, demonstrating against a company that's located in mall is a hard task. Most owners will order demonstrators to leave, refusal to do so is grounds for arrest (trespassing). South Africans have the right to protest, but not on private property, not within 100 metres of a court building, not where the President lives, not if it disrupts traffic, and definitely not in a clown suit.

The right to demonstrate is, at best, a qualified right.

A close look at the responses from the Johannesburg Metropolitan Police Department (JMPD) to notices that social justice movements have filed of gatherings that they intend to hold, shows a number of violations of the RGA with regard to processes followed by the JMPD after receiving notification of a gathering. This is evidence that there is a discord between the theory (the Constitution) and the State's actions.

Some of these relate to the JMPD's abuse of Section 3 (2) of the RGA, which states, "The convenor shall not later than seven days before the date on which the gathering is to be held, give notice of the gathering to the responsible officer concerned: Provided that if it is not reasonably possible for the convenor to give such notice earlier than seven days before such date, he shall give such notice at the earliest opportunity: Provided further that if such notice is given less than 48 hours before the commencement of the gathering, the responsible officer may by notice to the convenor prohibit the gathering." Records show that this section is used to refuse any gatherings that do not comply with the seven day notice period, without due consideration being given to possible reasons for late notification (Prishani Naidoo, Establishing A Historical Record Of Violations Of The Regulation Of Gatherings Act & The Right To Freedom Of Assembly Amongst Social Movements in Johannesburg, unpublished draft, 2005).

The power to issue blanket prohibitions on demonstrations that meet the 48 hours notice leaves officials with unbridled discretion. Such discretion is regularly abused in the service of the State’s alleged interest in maintaining order, or more perversely, in silencing the political views of marginal groups. Unbridled official discretion is generally viewed as an unjustifiable impairment of the right to assemble.

The RGA thwarts many a convener who, in fact, complies with the seven-day notice period. Despite the provision of notice by many conveners ten days in advance of a demonstration, a number of provisions in the RGA have had the unintended consequence of aiding and abetting the authorities desire to prohibit protests. In short, responsible officers can comply timeously - if not substantively - with response, meeting and prohibition requirements and still not give the conveners sufficient time to have a banning order reviewed in the Magistrates Court or in High Court prior to the appointed date for the demonstration. The courts have found that the applications for review do not meet the standards for urgency set out in the rules of court. Failure to satisfy this standard means that judicial review cannot take place before the scheduled demonstration (Stuart Woolman, Constitutional Law in South Africa, in Chaskalson, M. et al, unpublished draft, 2000).

In addition, JMPD officials often do not comply with the RGA's stipulation that it should respond to a notification within 24 hours of receiving it if JMPD intends to hold a meeting about the gathering or to seek to prohibit it. Section 4 (3) states "If a convenor has been notified in terms of subsection (2) (a) or has not, within 24 hours after giving notice in terms of section 3 (2), been called to a meeting …, the gathering may take place in accordance with the contents of the notice …"

Records from both the JMPD and social justice movements show the violation of the RGA through the response to notices well after 24 hours. Often this works in conjunction with the seven-day notice period required of movements against the right of movements to seek the intervention of a magistrate to overturn the prohibition of a gathering. If the JMPD responds after the 24-hour period with the request to meet with a movement and then proceeds to prohibit a gathering, it may be impossible for a movement to apply to a magistrate within the necessary time period to get permission for a march to proceed on the intended day. However, with responses beyond this 24-hour response period, the possibility for overturning a prohibition timeously by following all legal routes is reduced.

Section 5 of the RGA states, "(1)When credible information on oath is brought to the attention of a responsible officer that there is a threat that a proposed gathering will result in serious disruption of vehicular or pedestrian traffic, injury to participants in the gathering or other persons, or extensive damage to property, and that the Police and the traffic officers in question will not be able to contain this threat, he shall forthwith meet or, if time does not allow it, consult with the convenor and the authorized member … in order to consider the prohibition of the gathering."

There are a number of suggestions in the evidence outlined below that the JMPD has been in violation of this section. Firstly, there is a lack of any significant records of "credible information on oath" preceding the calling of such meetings. In the two cases where there are such records, it would appear that the information on oath has been forthcoming after the meeting in order to prohibit the gathering. Secondly, it would seem that the meetings have become common practice in attempting to prevent gatherings from taking place rather than being spaces in which the authorities should be trying to facilitate the peaceful occurrence of the gathering in question. The prohibition letters following several of these meetings verify this as they contain the same language and represent no attempt on the part of the JMPD to assist the convenors in facilitating the gathering. This would also suggest that the meetings do not take place in "good faith" as the RGA prescribes.

The actual prohibition letters from the JMPD also constitute several violations of the RGA, through their identification of the potential adverse effects a gathering may have on traffic and their allegations of past indiscretions by people associated with the convening group as reasons for prohibition. According to Stuart Woolman, "These pro forma banning orders violate the RGA in three discrete ways. First, The RGA's 4(4)(b), actually acknowledges that gatherings will, inevitably, disrupt traffic and contemplates an agreement between the responsible officer, the convenor and the police that will ensure that 'vehicular or pedestrian traffic, especially during traffic rush hours, is least impeded'. Second, reasonable suspicion 'of lawlessness and damage to property' - the language used in these pro forma prohibitions - is not the standard set out in the RGA for the prohibition of a gathering. RGA's 5(1), demands 'credible information on oath…brought to the attention of a responsible officer.' Third, the orders fail to recognize that the time, place and manner of an assembly are often its most essential features. The disdain shown for these critical elements of an assembly constitutes a violation of RGA's 2(d)'s requirement that the responsible officer ensure that all discussions demonstrate the state's willingness to negotiate in 'good faith'." (Stuart Woolman, ibid)

There is also some evidence of the JMPD's violations of the RGA during gatherings through the fixing of the times that marches are permitted to last, intimidation by police, arbitrary arrests, and so on.

Local authorities such as the JMPD appear to discriminate between social movements based upon the content or viewpoint of the protest. Protests that challenge the status quo on land redistribution are generally prohibited. Protests mounted by members of the tripartite alliance – say COSATU – with respect to fair labour practices are generally allowed to go ahead. Prohibitions or restrictions based upon the viewpoint of the protester are patent and unjustifiable violations of the right to assemble.

Furthermore, the police are often ignorant of the RGA. Some policemen and women (especially those from stations and not specialised public order details like JMPD) are not versed in the RGA - inspectors, in the middle of protests, have been known to stare at copies of the RGA with puzzlement and fear - and will often react to demonstrations as if it were the 1980s and Riotous Assemblies hadn't been substantially repealed.

In amongst the legal talk, filing of notices, and meetings with police, what is usually overlooked is the most fundamental issue of all. Either individuals have the right to assembly because it is an intrinsic human right (they have it in virtue of being human) or individuals have a right to assembly because it has been granted to them (by the state, for example). If it is the former, then human beings can get together, without restriction, just because they are human. This is inalienable, and not for debate. Private property, it could be argued, is not an intrinsic right (just because human beings are human, they do not have the right to own land, which could equally be seen to be the property of all or even none), and thus private property cannot be used to restrict the right to assembly, as only other intrinsic rights can have a moral bearing on an intrinsic right.

However, the law sees it being the latter case. The law grants the right (and the conditions thereof) and the agents of the law permit (or not) that right. If this interpretation is valid, then be afraid, for he who giveth can also taketh away.

* Tristen Taylor is the Apartheid Debt and Reparations Campaign Coordinator at Jubilee South Africa. Simon Delaney is a lawyer at the Freedom of Expression Institute. He is a specialist in the Regulation of Gatherings Act.

* Please send comments to

The African Union (AU) is to hold an extraordinary summit of heads of state tomorrow to discuss reform of the United Nations (UN) Security Council. The meeting, to be held in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, is a sign of division among leaders over a compromise resolution to be put before the UN General Assembly. Had there been unanimous support for the resolution, there would have been no pressing reason for the AU chairman, Nigerian President Olusegun Obasanjo, to call an extraordinary summit.

The head of Liberia's Maritime Bureau was charged on Wednesday with siphoning off US $3.5 million - the first time a government official has appeared in court to face corruption allegations since the civil war ended two years ago. Western governments have warned that funding for reconstruction will be withheld if politicians continue to squander the cash or pocket resources designed to help the country's estimated three million population.

Zimbabwean President Robert Mugabe failed to win the $1-billion loan he desperately needed from the Chinese government this week to buy essential imports such as food, fuel, electricity and drugs. While visiting China, he won diplomatic points against the West with a pledge from Beijing to veto any tough United Nations security council resolutions on Zimbabwe. However, China failed to prevent the council debating Mugabe's controversial campaign to "clean up" shacks and hawkers. But in cash terms, Mugabe returned largely empty-handed.

That Zimbabwe's ruling party, ZANU-PF was able to win the March 2005 Parliamentary Election, despite the massive economic decline under its governance, seems to defy logic and invites an investigation as to whether the election was fair, whether people were able to cast their vote freely over the voting period, and whether the announced results accurately reflected the vote. This is the beginning of a July report from the Zimbabwe Human Rights NGO Forum that analyses the allegations of rigging in relation to the voting process and whether the process was free and fair. "Three issues are of concern: whether the process was fair, whether people were able to cast their vote freely over the voting period, and whether the announced results accurately reflected the vote," says the report.
Related Link:
* Development Denied: Autocratic Militarism in Post-election Zimbabwe
http://www.zimbabwesituation.com/jul28_2005.html#link27

This is a personal statement. It describes ongoing events affecting my colleagues and I here in Nigeria in relation to our work on accountability for fugitive former Liberian President, Charles Taylor.  
 
Some minutes after noon on on Monday, 1 August 2005, operatives of the Nigeria's State Security Service (SSS) arrested Steve Omali and Michael Damisa at the Nnamdi Azikiwe International Airport in Abuja. Steve and Michael are professional printers. They had printed a set of posters on the "Charles Taylor Wanted" campaign for the Coalition Against Impunity.
 
The coalition brings together over 345 NGOs in 17 African countries and beyond campaigning to ensure accountability for international crimes for which fugitive former Liberian President, Mr. Charles Taylor, stands indicted. Also involved in the Coalition Against Impunity (CAI) are the Open Society Justice Initiative, Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch, the Nigerian Coalition on the International Criminal Court, the Transitional Justice Working Group in Liberia, among others.
 
I work on the African programme of the Open Society Justice Initiative and have been involved in designing and implementing the advocacy work of the Coalition. I am also counsel in on going judicial review proceedings to detemrine the legality of Mr. Taylor's asylum in Nigeria. The Open Society Justice Initiative and Amnesty International are amici on record in those proceedings. The Court presided over my Judge Steve J. Adah, will announce a ruling on 13 September.
 
The SSS have confiscated 10,000 copies of the posters. The posters are merely reprints of the Interpol Red Notice for Mr. Taylor, which was issued in 2003. Nigeria is a member of Interpol.
 
About 15:00 hours on Monday afternoon, Matthew Damisa, Steve's brother, went to visit his brother at the SSS Headquarters in Abuja. The SSS also arrested him, like Steve and Michael, Matthew is detained as I write.
 
Yesterday, Tuesday, 2 August, two persons claiming to be staff of the SSS, led by one Mr. Igwe, visited our offices in Abuja to ask for me. They claimed that their Director had asked to see me in his office. They declined to give the name of their Director or to say where they were asked to take me. When my colleagues insisted, they indicated that it was in relation to the Charles Taylor Campaign and suggested that the SSS would be willing to trade the detained printers for me. This sounds like hostage taking by a State institution.
 
The SSS is established by the National Security Agencies Act, first promulgated by Nigeria's then military regime as a decree in 1986. The Decree was later transformed unchanged and specially entrenched in Section 315(5) of Nigeria's 1999 Constitution. It can only be changed by the same procedure for ammending the Constitution. The SSS is set up under this Act to prevent and ensure prosecution of crimes against Nigeria's internal security.
 
The operatives of the SSS that came for me produced no identification. They had neither letter nor warrant for my arrest. They did not allege that I or any of my colleagues in the Coalition or connected with the OSI, OSIWA or the Justice Initiative had committed any crime. They continued to harrass my colleagues in our offices for my cellular numbers. At the time this was happening, I was in Lagos at the presentation of the annual report on human rights in Nigeria by Nigeria Civil Liberties Organisation. My colleagues directed them to my friend, colleague and legal representative, Uche Onyeagocha who is also a Federal Legislator. They declined to speak to Uche. By the end of the day, I was advised that two SSS operatives were staking out our offices awaiting my arrival in Abuja.
 
Upon learning of the arrest of Steve and Michael and Matthew on Monday, I immediately formally informed Nigeria's Federal Attorney General and Justice Minister, Chief Bayo Ojo SAN, by letter. The Chambers of the Attorney-General signed in receipt of the letter. After they came for me, I updated the information to the Attorney-General's chambers. I have also lodged a formal complaint with Bukhari Bello, the Executive Secretary of Nigeria's National Human Rights Commission, and Justice E.O. Ayoola, the Chairperson of the Commission, who is incidentally also the Chairperson of the Special Court for Sierra Leone, whose Prosecutor indicted Mr. Taylor. In consultation with me and at my request, my colleagues formally wrote to the Director-General of the SSS, Col. Kayode Are, offering to arrange a mutually agreeable time for me to meet with him and his operatives, or, alternatively, indicating whether they were looking for me in connection with any crimes known to Nigerian law.
 
Nigeria is ruled by an elected President, Olusegun Obasanjo. Chapter IV of Nigeria's 1999 Constitution contains elaborate guarantees of human rights. Nigeria is party to the African Charter on Human and Peoples' Rights, the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, and Convention against Torture. It is unlawful under any and all of these instruments to detain anyone for more than 48 hours. As I write, our printers and their brother have been detained for over 48 hours without access to lawyers or visits.
 
 The SSS had previously arrested and detained two members of my family - Iheoma Obibi and our son, Dilim Odinkalu born in February 1997 - in 2000 and 2003. On both occasions, they briefly detained them overnight and confiscated their passports. Iheoma and Dilim are British nationals. The passports were later released following the intervention of the UK government. On both occasions the SSS interrogated Iheoma about her work with the UK charity, Alliances for Africa. They also interrogated her about my work.
 
I should report that I am not presently in danger to life or limb. I wish I could say the same about my liberty.
 
I am in good spirits. I am not a fugitive. I am not a criminal suspect. None of my colleagues in the Coalition against Impunity is. Nor are any of my colleagues in OSIWA and the Justice Initiative. The Fugitive is Mr. Charles Taylor. The tragedy in all of this is that the government of a supposedly democratic country has chosen to unlawfully deploy its security apparatus to prevent entirely lawful activities designed to ensure accountability for some of the gravest international crimes.

I have forwarded Pambazuka News 216 (Economic Partnership Agreements: territorial conquest by economic means?) to Native Americans I have been connecting with because it confirms what I have been saying:

1. Economic bantustanization has worked for a long time, this economic partnership business is to freeze it so that it no longer changes. Native Americans have gotten their reservations and now their casinos. African Americans have been integrated through the entertainment industry (which includes Sport).

2. Africa and the former colonies are now being turned into global reservations.

That is what immediately came to mind as I read Pambazuka News 216.

This is very schematically put, but the success of dividing us to death (e.g. keeping the victims of the Inaugural Double Genocide divided) has worked very well. I remember at the University of Dar es Salaam, we fought hard to get African American history taught (Walter Rodney led that charge), but nothing was said about the history of Native Americans.

Is it possible to work harder on reversing this? Or am I barking for no reason?

Some 1,000 refugees in camps in Tanzania returned to eastern Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) late in July in order to register to vote in the 2006 general elections, according to UNHCR. Voter registration is set to begin in the province of South Kivu on 21 August and will end 21 days later. The National Independent Electoral Commission has said it cannot tour countries bordering the DRC to register refugees. In addition, the commission's deputy president, Norbert Kantitima Bashengezi, said it did not have the means to repatriate the refugees.

Afrodad have re-launched the Debt and Development in Africa newsletter in electronic format. AFRODAD requests interested individuals and institutions to supply their current e-mail addresses or notify their Communications Programme Officer of changes to contact details on [email protected].

Thank you for the newsletter. I have a suggestion that could help some of us read your newsletter more conveniently. Could you make it available in a format to read on Palm Pilots? This is done by converting the whole newsletter into a "pdb" format using these tools: (about $30) Since your newsletter does not use graphics or fancy formatting, the conversion should be quite easy for you and could help many people read the newsletter while commuting, etc. You could email the pdb directly to people who prefer that format.

Pambazuka News asks: Would you make use of a palm pilot version of Pambazuka News? Let us know by emailing [email protected]

With war-torn West Africa still facing “very serious” human rights issues and tensions, the United Nations top rights official voiced concern for deteriorating human rights in Côte d’Ivoire, fading protections for women in Sierra Leone, and the “profoundly inadequate” justice system in Liberia. At a press conference marking her one-year anniversary as UN High Commissioner for Human Rights, Louise Arbour also renewed her call to African leaders to ensure that former Liberian President Charles Taylor – now living in exile in Nigeria – surrendered to the jurisdiction of the UN-backed Special Court for Sierra Leone.