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homepage | Chief and state in Zambia overview page | Part I | Part III
van Binsbergen W. M. J., 1987, ‘Chiefs and the State in Independent Zambia : exploring the Zambian National Press’, in J. Griffiths et E. A. B. van Rouveroy van Nieuwaal (eds), Journal of Legal Pluralism, special issue on chieftainship in Africa, n° 25-26, pp. 139-201.
Part 2
Meanwhile, the view
of chieftainship as expressed by Mr. Simwinga: an obsolete
presentday survival from precolonial times when that institution
was surrounded with mystical power and heroic glory, finds other
isolated expressions in the newspapers. At a time of controversy
over the Zambian recognition of the Angolan mpla, Dr. Mutumba
Mainga, a University of Zambia historian of Lozi origin (cf.
Mutumba Mainga 1973), stated the historical claims for eastern
Angola to be Zambian, as part of Lewanika’s empire in the late
nineteenth century [4.1]; and while treating the much-debated
issue of the boundaries of that empire[1] with
sophistication and a minimum of Lozi chauvinism, her account
implicitly confirms popular images of chiefly splendor, of formal
hierarchical organization of the precolonial Lozi state, and of
the existence of Lozi subject tribes, such as the Luvale. Similar
popular images are invoked by newspaper items on a mystery giant
mushroom appearing on the grave of the Lozi king Mulambwa (early
19th century) [7.16]; on a sacred tree associated with the Bemba
kings and now threatened with demolition by the Forestry
Department [7.17, 7.18]; or on a sacred lake on the Copperbelt,
concerning which Senior Chief Chiwala has made proposals for
recreational development with the Mpongwe Rural Council...[2]
Near the southern town of Livingstone, the recently installed
Chief Mukuni of the Leya gives further food to the mysterious
connotations surrounding chieftainship, by depicting his capital
as threatened by witches [7.19], and by staging a neo-traditional
rain ritual that received detailed newspaper coverage.[3]
Much of what seeps through in the newspapers with regard to
chiefly succession and the attending disputes, including
allegations of usurpation, in part corroborates the image of
chieftainship as an impotent neo-traditional survival, disrupted
by internal bickering. [2.6; 2.12; 4.14; 7.19] When the focus is
on specific interaction between a rural chief and his or her
followers, the account tends to be negative: a junior chief on
the Copperbelt is beaten up when urging peasants to have their
villages registered by a registration team working in the
framework of the 1971 Village Registration Act [2.15]; Senior
Chief Chiwala goes to great length to assert that he, for one,
has not been beaten by his Lamba subjects [5.24]; and the Solwezi
District Governor, when faced with allegations that the
government has usurped the chiefs’ power, points to the new
responsibilities of chiefs and headmen (in terms of
state-initiated village registration and village regroupment),
which, far from usurping, lend new life to the chiefs’ role, now
that villagers no longer offer them tribute in the form of
locally-brewn beer and manorial corvee services in agriculture,
as they used to do in the past. [4.25] Nor do the
relationships between chiefs appear to be any better: the Nkoya
Chief Kabulwe-bulwe, ousted from his capital at the Kafue river
(cf. van Binsbergen 1985b, in press, and in preparation) at the
creation of the Kafue National Park in the 1930s, is reported as
formally requesting land from his neighbors, Chief Shakumbila and
Chief Moono, in Mumbwa district (Central Province), but his plea
is turned down. [1.1] In Solwezi district, Chief Mukumbi is
accused of meddling in the succession of the late Senior Chief
Musele, to such an extent that the Cabinet Minister for
Northwestern Province, Mr. J. Mutti, is obliged to intervene.
[4.14]
In conjuring up this conflict-ridden picture of Zambian chiefs
the journalists’ access to and selection of news seems to play
an important role. The nearness of the complex and conflictive
peri-urban situation on the Copperbelt (with chiefs like Mushili
and Chiwala, surpassing most other Zambian chiefs in news
coverage) eclipses the numerous cases of peaceful and respectful
interaction between chiefs and their subjects elsewhere.
Succession disputes may have a news value, but they seem to
affect only a selection of the dozen or so cases of chiefly
succession which occur on every year, considering the demographic
fact that Zambia has about 280 recognized chiefs, normally of
middle age or older. That chiefs’ installation ceremonies are
reported to attract crowds of thousands already goes to show that
in general chiefs are respected and supported by their people.
Two Kunda chiefs visiting the Line of Rail (see below) are said
to be treated with great respect not only by their own subjects
among the urban migrants, but also from other ethnic groups:
‘Senior
Chieftainess Nsefu and Chief Munkhanya of the Kunda yesterday
appealed to the people on the Copperbelt and the Midlands,
especially loafers [i.e. unemployed urban migrants — WvB], to
heed President Kaunda's call to return to the land. The leaders
made the appeal in Lusaka where they were visiting their people,
particularly Mr. Patterson Ngoma, Minister of State in the Office
of the President who [Mr. Ngoma, sc. — WvB] had been sick for
the past three months.
(...) While on the Copperbelt and the Midlands, they have been
paid courtsey [sic] visits by members of various tribes who has
presented them with gifts, particularly the Bemba tribe from the
Northern Province.’ [3.25; also see below]
And to balance the negative reports on interaction between
chiefs, Chieftainess Nkomeshya of Lusaka Rural district is
reported to have sent, on behalf of her people and her fellow
chiefs of that region, a moving condolence letter on the occasion
of the death of her colleague, Princess Nakatindi. [4.11]
In other words, the
journalists’ negative picture is far from consistent. The image
of chiefs as backward, clad in primitive mystery, full of
colonial connotations, despised by their subjects, incapable of
co-operation with other chiefs, and irrelevant in a context of
modern government, is on all counts set off against statements to
the contrary — in such a way as to vindicate, rather, Mr.
Kakoma’s views as quoted above.
Some appreciation at least is detectable, in the newspaper
reports, of the essential basis of Zambian chieftainship: the
chief as the guardian of the rural land and its resources [3.24;
3.23; 4.7], and secondly (since morality and ecology go hand in
hand in the ancient world-view of South Central Africa), the
chief as the guardian of tradition[4],
morality, law and order. It is in the context of this chiefly
responsibility that chiefs make pronouncements concerning decency
and morals:
‘Chiefs [meeting
— WvB] in Mwinilunga have passed a resolution appealing to the
government to ban minis[5].’ [2.10]
In a similar vein individual chiefs engage in a battle against
witchcraft [Chief Mukuni, 7.19], or against the illegal and
incompetent practice of medicine by local healers [7.2]. The
latter point already shades over into chiefs assuming — on
their own initiative — responsibilities which strictly speaking
are those of the modern central state: the battle against the
country’s alarming crime rate[6], the identification
and expulsion of illegal immigrants who may threaten the
country’s international security[7], and
the implement-ation of health regulations which normally fall
under the responsibility of Local Authorities.[8]
Against this background of chiefly self-perception it is
understandable that the government is urged to restore the formal
judicial powers chiefs used to have under the colonial
government, and which were taken away from them with the reform
of the local court system in 1965:[9]
‘Speaking during a
two-day seminar on humanism, chiefs (...) called on the
government to give them the power they had during the colonial
days and said they should be empowered to arrest troublemakers in
their areas. — ZANA.’ [2.10]
In this general concern for law and order in the country, chiefs
— even as depicted in the newspaper reports — do not merely
look to the past and the local level, and their role in
implementing national development as a first condition for law
and order is recognized not only by themselves but also by senior
politicians. The ideal chief is depicted as an agent of progress,
in the first place by President Kaunda himself:
‘So 1973 is
truly a year of real challenges, but it is also a year full of
hope for Zambians. [italics original — WvB] Let us be
united in our determination to work out our own future. All of us
have an important role to play in building this nation. Mayors,
Chairmen of Local Councils and Councillors, together with Section
leaders, have a tremendous task ahead to improve the outlook of
our cities and towns, to improve services for the people. Chiefs,
Headmen and other Village leaders [italics added — WvB]
have the task of accomplishing the objectives of the Rural
Reconstruction Programme. The Party and Government will continue
to provide the leadership and services but it is up to the people
of the rural areas to undertake the task of improving the quality
of life.
(...) We are now in the Second Republic, more united than ever
before. So we must now fight all the problems and enemies as one
team. Whether we are members of the Central Committee, Ministers,
Members of Parliament, Judges and Magistrates, members of the
Civil Service, Army, Air Force, Police or Prison Services,
whether we are Managers of Para-statal Organisations or private
enterprises, Teachers, Churchmen, Party and Labour leaders,
Students, Chiefs, Headmen [italics added — WvB] and all
other categories of workers in towns and villages, we must act
together in fighting our enemies’. [3.2; similar examples are:
3.18, 4.9].
President
Kaunda’s words reflect a tangible reality. A prominent
traditional ruler like Senior Chief Mushili is quoted as
rejoicing in the large number of development projects he has
managed to attract in his area. [5.21 as quoted below] In this,
he is merely bringing into practice the right to propose and
initiate development projects, which the Secretary General to the
Government, Mr. A.A. Milner, stressed an an essential benefit of
the 1971 Village Registration Act. [3.20; 3.23, as quoted above]
We see some chiefs (mainly on the Copperbelt, again) clamoring
for more schools, dams, tractor services, postal services and
rural industries in their areas, and even suggesting local
administra-tive reforms such as the creation of additional
sub-bomas. [2.11; 5.13; 5.21; 5.28] On the Copperbelt, Chief
Nkana even goes to the extent of posing as a self-styled labour
recruitment officer for a newly reopened local copper mine.
[5.12]
Other chiefs, outside the Copperbelt, are depicted as highly
successful farmers. One of them is Chief Chibuluma, whose
professional roles include e.g. chairmanship of the Mumbwa
Agricultural Show[10]. Chief Chanje of
Chipata district is vice-chairman of the National Resources
Advisory Board, and recipient of a Standard Bank grant for an
agricultural study tour to the United Kingdom. [6.4, 6.8].
Significantly, both Chief Chibuluma and Chief Chanje are members
of the House of Chiefs. Various chiefs are reported to make
pronouncements against urban unemployment and in favor of the
return to the land of the young urban unemployed [ 3.25; 6.5
(House of Chiefs debate quoted); 6.9 ]. in ggneral, the chiefs’
essential role in agricultural development is emphasized, e.g. in
the field of village regroupement [ 4.24; 4.25 ]. The
introduction of altenatives to the destructive slash-and-burn chitemene
agricultural technique is accompanied by extensive news
coverage of a demonstration flight during which President Kaunda
and selected Northern Province chiefs viewed the
chitemene-devastated countryside of Northern Province.[11]
Senior Zambian
politicians can hardly be said to share the negative views of
chieftainship as implied in part of the newspaper reports, and as
made explicit by Mr. Simwinga as quoted above.
The cost involved in chiefs’ subsidies are not complained
about; on the contrary, official government statements proudly
point to repeated increases of chiefs’ subsidies since
Independence, as a sign of the high esteem in which the
government holds the chiefs. [3.20; 3.23 as quoted above]
As far as national unity is concerned: not the chiefs but
dissident politicians are considered to be foci of ethnic
machinations, to such an extent that chiefs themselves feel safe
enough to level the accusation of tribalism against others who
are not chiefs. One example comes from the Lozi Princess
Nakatindi ([2.19]; see below). Another concerns Senior Chief
Mushili, Princess Nakatindi’s colleague in the House of Chiefs:
‘(...) Senior
Chief Mushili (...) has suggested that Ndola Rural should have
two sub-bomas if it has to be administered properly[:] (...) one
(...) at old Mpongwe and another at Chief Shimukunami. (...) Last
week Chief Mushili put this suggestion to the Copperbelt
Permanent Secretary, Mr. Hosea Ngwane when he visited the area.
He told Mr. Ngwane that if the government agreed with his
suggestion, ‘all tribal and personal squabbles in the area
would come to an end.’
Chief Mushili attacked some senior government officials who he
said were practising tribalism. Chief Mushili said as a result of
tribalism development projects were being delayed. He also
accused some members of the Ndola Rural Council, District
Development Committee [sic] of not being happy with the number of
development projects which were taking place in his area. — ZANA.’
[5.21]
With each chief ruling over what necessarily is only a small
section of the population of Zambia (a point emphasized by Kakoma
and Simwinga alike), the chiefs’ calling is defined as: to
bring their respective sections within the fold of the nation as
a whole, and not to foster sub-national divisiveness, even
secessionalism. Although the Barotseland case is there to prove
the contrary, this ideal image of chiefs as enhancing national
unity behind the leading party, unip, does seem to be widespread
in Zambian politics at the time. When politicians lash out at
tribalists, chiefs are not implicated. [e.g. 3.5, 3.7; 3.18;
4.10; 4.11; 4.23] With the exception of a few controversial
testimonies before the Chona Commission, concerning a negative
view of unip’s women and youth wings, [4.29; 5.8] the newspaper
reports contain no cases of explicit confrontation between unip
and chiefs in the period covered.
Against the background of colonial and post-colonial political
developments in Barotseland, and between the Lozi aristocracy and
the Zambian state, it is under-standable that the Lozi Litunga
Mbikusita is particularly keen to avoid such trouble, even in the
face of strong political discontent among the Lozi aristocracy:
‘Lozis told to
ignore circulars
The Litunga of
Western Province, Mbikusita Lewanika Two, including some of his
indunas, visited Yuka village, the capital of Chief Kandala in
Mongu district at the weekend. The visit follows an invitation
made to the Litunga two months ago.
On behalf of the Litunga and Kuta, Induna Kalonga advised a crowd
of people who welcomed the Litunga to ignore anonymous letters
which were circulating in Mongu district. The letters would cause
confusion and misunderstanding between individuals and the
government. Induna Kalonga said that such activities would help
nobody and that it was the work of cowards and troublemakers, he
added. If they speak of law, let them sign their names, and
addresses, the induna warned. The people who tried to implicate
the name and office of the Litunga for their personal grievances
or political ambitions by writing or sending him copies of their
letters were acting contrary to customs and traditions and were
dangerous to the society. The Litunga’s name cannot and should
not be used in anything that was controversial. Political matters
should be channelled through to the Ngambela’s office.
Induna Kalonga thanked the people for the warm welcome accorded
to the Litunga to make his visit enjoyable. — ZANA.’ [4.23]
On the other hand there are signs that senior modern politicians
avoid open confrontations with the Litungaship itself. And so the
Litunga’s Ngambela, Mr. Suu, is to take the blame. He is
accused of advising the Litunga not to welcome President Kaunda
at Mongu airport when the latter flew out to Western Province;
even though the Litunga was in fact there, the President had Mr.
Suu deposed and his subsidy discontinued. [4.15, 4.16, 4.16a,
4.16b, 4.16c] We are still a far cry from the installation, in
1983, of Mbikusita’s successor Iluta Yeta as a member of unip’s
Central Committee.
In accommodating chiefs and modern politics, unip seminars at the
district and provincial level turn out to have a somewhat similar
rallying function to chiefs’ funerary and installation
ceremonies in bringing together a selection of local
office-bearers from modern and neo-traditional politics and
furthering their interaction. [2.2; 2.10]
Just one reason why the relation between chiefs and
‘tribalism’ is less intimate than critics of chieftainship
such as Mr. Simwinga suggest, is shown by the case of Senior
Chief Chiwala: representing a Muslim Swahili minority among Lamba
people, and still being resented by the latter for being an alien
[5.24, 5.25, 5.26]. Even in the rural areas, chief’s
territories are seldom ethnically homogeneous, and chiefs may
occasion-ally find themselves belonging to an ethnic minority
among their own subjects. On the other hand, numerous cases
could be cited[12] where chieftainship
is at the core of a cultural ethnic identity, advocating
neo-traditional culture, the use of the vernacular in education
and broadcasting, etc.[13] Such cases are
also reflected in the newspapers of the period; that they all
involve Copperbelt chiefs seems accidental in this case. [5.9,
5.11, 5.12] The transition form cultural to political ethnicity
however only takes place when the allocation of scarce resources
by bureaucracies and representative bodies of the modern state is
involved (e.g. Bates 1973); and here chiefs, by contrast to
modern politicians, normally do not wield sufficient power and
influence to champion regional interests as clad in an ethnic
idiom.
As to the colonial and hence anti-nationalist connotations of
chiefs, this issue could hardly be overlooked at a time when unip,
a nationalist party which derives popular support mainly from its
success in the struggle for independence, is about to establish a
one-party state.
Significant
in this respect is a newspaper report on an ancient chief (Chief
Chikuwe of the Chewa) deposed by the colonial government for what
he claims to be refusal to betray the nationalist cause, and now
a businessman on the Copperbelt; in the news item he announces
his intention to regain his throne on his successor, who is
depicted as a colonial stooge.[14]
On a national scale, when the Vice-President presents before
Parliament the bill creating the one-party state, in December
1972, he makes explicit reference to the fact that Mr. Godwin
Mbikusita (who occupied the Litungaship from 1968 to 1977) early
in his career created a major break-through for nationalism, but
he soon was to side with the colonial powers, and lost the
nationalist initiative to Mr. Harry Nkumbula, the founder of
Zambia’s first nationalist political party, anc. [4.7] In the
same speech the Vice-President extensively quoted the
constitutions of both unip and anc. His purpose was to show how
close they really were; the one-party state meant that after more
than ten years of political opposition anc had to be incorporated
into unip. But in the context of our present argument it is
interesting to see the Vice-President review the nationalists’
stance vis-a-vis Zambian chiefs, and treating this position as
still essentially valid in 1972. Thus from the anc Constitution
Mr. Chona cites the following goals and principles:
‘ ‘‘(...) (d)
To work in a spirit of mutual understanding with Native
Authorities [i.e. chiefs and their staff — WvB] and such
other organisations as have the welfare of Africans at heart save
in matters which are detrimental to African interests; (...)
(h) To seek to break down tribal and language barriers,
and to promote a spirit of harmony and brotherhood among all
Africans.’’ ’ [4.7; emphasis added — WvB]
Similarly,
Mr. Chona’s summary of the objects of unip before Independence
includes the following:
‘ ‘‘(...) (d)
To maintain, protect and promote understanding and unity among
the people of Northern Rhodesia by removing individualism, tribalism
and provincialism.
(e) To promote and support worthy [sic] African customs
and cultures. (...)
(o) To secure acceptance by the Northern Rhodesia government of
the fundamental principle that all land in all parts of
Northern Rhodesia is ultimately vested in the chiefs and
people of Northern Rhodesia.’’ ’ [4.7; emphasis added —
WvB]
These statements of intention may since have undergone changes in
form, but not in content:
‘(...) Mr.
Speaker, there are amendments that have been made to the UNIP
Constitution from time to time since our independence but most of
these alterations have merely been designed to marry some of the
objects with a view of shortening the list.’ [4.7; emphasis
added — WvB]
Within a week, President Kaunda himself brought home another
message concerning the anti-nationalist stance of at least some
major chiefs, in a perfectly dramatic way: he allowed himself to
be reconciled with Mr. Chisashi who had once, as traditional
‘Prime Minister’ of the Bemba Paramount Chief, Chitimukulu
— banned Kaunda and other nationalist organizers from
Chitimukulu’s area:
‘THE SPIRIT
OF THE 2ND REPUBLIC
PRESIDENT Kaunda
yesterday forgave Mr. Abel Chisashi and warmly shook hands with
him. Mr. Chisashi, [ sic ] was the man the President had never
thought of forgiving for what he did during the struggle for
independence. His forgiveness coms in the wake of what the
President said at the closing session of the three days UNIP
National COuncil in Kabwe that ‘‘the time when we entre the
second republic is a time for forgiveness since love comes fgirst
and therefore extend a hand of friendship to all.’’
Mr Chisashi former president of the Kasama Urban Court ahd before
Independence declared President Kaunda a prohibited man in the
district. Mr. Chisashi, then prime minister of Ilamfya — a
traditional executive council — also banned Mr. Mukuka Nkoloso
and his militant Eleven Devils to enter the district.
He had travelled all the way from his home in Kasama to come and
deliver his apology to Dr. Kaunda. Mr. Chisashi was accompanied
to State House by Lusaka Urban district governor, Mr. Justin
Kabwe.’ [3.11]
Significantly,
the newspapers reports are somewhat aloof as to the precise
nature of Mr. Chisashi’s neo-traditional office at the time
(cf. Whiteley 1951; Roberts 1973; Richards 1935), and the name of
Chitimukulu is not mentioned. In the period covered, only one,
passing reference to the Chitimukuluship could be traced in the
newspapers — which is truly remarkable: this is one of
Zambia’s most exalted chiefly titles, and moreover unip used to
be strongly Bemba-orientated. The reference concerned the
installation of piped water in Chitimukulu’s capital, in the
context of general development in the wake of the TanZam railway
[6.7]. The modern state knows how to honour even a controversial
Paramount Chief; in 1973 with piped water — ten years later
with a seat in the Central Committee...
But as always, the usable past is a selective past. In the
struggle for Independence the chiefs’ record may not have been
too impressive, but that does not seem to deter the Minister of
Legal Affairs, Mr. Chuula. He freely draws on the colonial
situation when he wants to make the point that in a modern
African state, such as independent Zambia under the Second
Republic, too extreme a distinction between the executive and the
judiciary may not be necessary or even desirable: after all, were
not the colonial chiefs an apt example of the successful merging
of executive and judiciary powers in the Zambian tradition?...
[3.6]
The references to
the anti-nationalist connotations of many Zambian chiefs were not
allowed to stand in isolation. In the Zambian readers’
consciousness, they were inevitably contrasted with and balanced
by the nation-wide attention, on the occasion of the death of
Princess Nakatindi only two weeks earlier, for a career (cf.
table 1) which provided convincing evidence of the fact that
chieftainship and the nationalist cause can be very well combined
indeed.
(insert
table 1 approximately here)
Apart from her being a woman, wife and mother, the two remarkable
aspects of Princess Nakatindi’s career were that from 1968 to
her death in 1972 she formed a unique combination of modern
party-political (as District Governor) and neo-traditional
leadership at the district level; and that by and large her
neo-traditional office as Mulena Mukwae of Sesheke and
her membership of the House of Chiefs, formed the culmination,
the final phase (perhaps I should say the retirement phase) of a
modern political career, rather than the steppingstone towards a
modern career. As a Litunga’s daughter, she might be considered
a member of the Lozi aristocracy capturing the modern state, but
it is equally valid, if not more so, to regard her as a modern
politician through which the state and the party successfully
captured at least part of neo-traditional Lozi politics. In this
respect she was exceptional, but not unique. Her close relative
Mr. Godwin Mbikusita had a similar career, as we have seen; and
so had Chief Kanongesha. The data on certain other chiefs
reiterate this pattern on a smaller scale: Chief Mukuni was an
employee with Zambia Railways before acceding to the throne in
1971 [7.19]; in a similar vein of urban careers Senior Chief
Chiwala was an assistant health inspector before his accession.[15]
With the amazing
career of Princess Nakatindi before us, we can hardly be
surprised that the bridge constitutes the dominant
metaphor to describe the chief in Zambian politics — that is,
the chief who has adapted to modern politics. President
Kaunda’s emotional funerary speech of Princess Nakatindi hinged
on this image. [4.9; 4.11] On this occasion, President Kaunda did
not hesitate to call Princess Nakatindi a ‘freedom fighter’,
who ‘was among nation-builders and stood side by side with
gallant men of this country.’ [4.11.] The metaphor of the
bridge received an interesting geographical expression when
within days after Princess Nakatindi’s death the newly
completed Livingstone-Sesheke tar road was named after her. [4.8]
The symbolic significance of this gesture lies in the fact that
the building of this road marks the final phase in the
geographical opening-up of Barotseland — after more than a
century in which the relative inaccessibility of this region
along the southern rout had formed a factor in Barotseland’s
survival as a neo-traditional state structure.[16] In
other words, calling this road after Princess Nakatindi
symbolizes effective penetration of the central state.
The image of the chief as bridge has become a cliche of Zambian
political express-ions.[17] Speaking as a
chief, Princess Nakatindi herself repeatedly stressed the
essential continuity that she perceived between the democratic
principles underlying chiefly rule, and those underlying unip’s
One-Party Participatory Democracy. [2.19]
It is in this context that senior government officials can afford
to recognize chiefs as political protagonists at the local and
regional level. Here the chiefs are even capable of extending
praise to their modern counterparts. [2.17] One needs no longer
be surprised that the National Commission of Enquiry into the
Establishment of the One-Party Participatory Democracy counted
two chiefs (including the Chairman of the House of Chiefs) among
its eighteen members[18], that senior chiefs
and chiefs’ councillors were among both the hosts and the
witnesses to that Commission[19], and that a
considerable part of the commission’s proceedings concerned the
role of chieftainship in post-Independence Zambia. Thus Princess
Nakatindi suggested that two ministers of the cabinet should be
recruited from the House of Chiefs. [4.31] Chief Mushili advised
the appointment of eight Paramount Chiefs in Zambia, not on an
ethnic but on a territorial basis: one for every province of
Zambia. [5.7] These and other suggestions are reflected (although
not adopted) in the extensive passage on chiefs in the Chona
Commission’s report (Republic of Zambia 1972: 24-25).
This emphasis on essential continuity between chiefs and the
modern state does not mean that government officials regard
chiefs as colleagues. In repeated discussions of the Leadership
Code, chiefs are never explicitly mentioned as falling under the
strict regulations concerning gainful employment. [3.1, 3.4,
3.14] Even though some of the definitions of leadership as
advanced in this context might be clearly applicable to Zambian
chiefs — whose subsidies in fact are often called salaries
by the government [cf. 3.23 as quoted above]:
‘(o) no leader
receiving a salary from Party or public funds shall (i) hold
directorship in any privately-owned company; (ii) hold shares in
a privately owned company except in government-controlled
financial institutions; and (iii) engage in private trade or in
commercial agriculture;(...)’ [3.14]
Sometimes
the distinction is put bluntly and with pejorative implications
for the chiefs:
‘The Minister for
Western Province, Mr. Josephat Siyomunji has said that in our
democratic government leaders were not chiefs but public
servants who must be prepared to work hard for the nation.’
[2.13; emphasis added — WvB]
Here the image of continuity clearly fades into one of chiefs and
modern state officials being complementary albeit qualitatively
different. This view also obtains, but for different reasons,
among the chiefs’ traditionalist subjects:
‘LITUNGA IS
NOT A ‘‘MR’’
Lozi elders in
Livingstone have protested at the use of ‘‘Mr’’ in Press
titling of the Litunga of Western Province. The Press, especially
the Government-owned Zambia Daily Mail, has referred to the
tribal leader as ‘the Litunga of Western Province, Mr.
Mbikusita Lewanika.’ But an angry president of Livingstone
local court, Mr. K. Makumba, said the correct title should be:
‘‘The Litunga, Mbikusita Lewanika.’’ The use of
‘‘Mr’’ showed disrespect, he said.’ [4.27]
It is because of the essential distinction between
neo-traditional and modern office-bearers that the modern
government can sanction the traditional practices of chiefly
selection and election, even if these differ in form from the
type of democratic logic underlying the modern state and the
party. [3.23 as quoted above] A similar note is struck in the
speech by the Cabinet Minister for Western Province at the
occasion of the installation of Mr. Mukonde as the Litunga’s
new Ngambela:
‘Senior induna
installed as new Ngambela
The former senior
induna Muleta of Libanda in Kalabo district, Mr. Griffith
Musialike Mukonde, has been installed as Ngambela (prime
minister) for Western Province. Mr. Mukonde has taken over the
post from Mr. Francis Lishomwa Suu, who resigned last September.
The colourful installation ceremony at which Mr. Mukonde was
installed as Ngambela was held at Lealui, the traditional capital
of the province. The ceremony was attended by senior indunas from
all over the province, Western Province Cabinet Minister, Mr.
Josephat Siyomunji and Mongu governor, Mr. Green Mwaala.
Speaking at the ceremony, Mr. Siyomunji told Mr. Mukonde, who is
60, to take the post as ‘‘a big challenge.’’(...) He
described the Ngambela as a traditional link between the people
and the Government. ‘‘Such a link should be like a bridge
leading people to peace and prosperity.’’ Mr. Siyomunji urged
the new Ngambela to keep tradition in step with changes in the
second Republic. This would promote good relationships between
the people and the Government. He assured Mr. Mukonde that the
Government would continue to preserve traditions.— ZANA.’
[4.2]
But it is by virtue of the same distinction that the state, even
if paying a subsidy to the chiefs, can afford to deny the chiefs
the sort of facilities and public services to which they could
have laid claim if they had been perceived as civil servants.
In this respect the newspaper material gives only a superficial
and selective impression of the underlying tensions and of the
chiefs’ increasing demands. In other contexts chiefs insist on
being formally recognized as part of the modern state, on their
being civil servants. They claim all sorts of material
benefits from the government: cars, car loans, other transport
facilities, secretarial services, etc. — which are to serve
both as neo- (or ‘neo-neo’) traditional status symbols, as
signs of modern state recognition, and as genuine logistic means
to enable the chiefs to play the development roles assigned to
them by government. The discussions in the House of Chiefs go
into great detail on these points, and I have analysed them
elsewhere (van Binsbergen, n.d.). In the newspaper reports these
claims, and the discontent they manifest, are reflected only in a
very indirect and presumably harmless form: not as a protest from
the chiefs, but as an admonition put before high-ranking modern
politicians by a medium in trance — as if he had to resort to
these extraordinary means to be able to deliver his message at
all:
‘Plea from the
spirits
A self-styled doctor
of spirits yesterday called upon UNIP's national Council to
provide chiefs and other traditional leaders with cars or
Zambians would be doomed in road accidents. In a dramatic
appearance, the ‘‘doctor’’, who gave his name as Morton
Wazingwa of Chief Lwaimba in Isoka district, had earlier lain
flat on the floor in Hindu Hall with a white piece of cloth
across his upper body. (...) He was still lying on the floor and
still covered until the national anthem was over. Later, the
self-styled doctor, in a black suit and with a leather case,
revealed he had left a petition for President Kaunda from the
spirits, which he said he represented. Hysterical and weeping,
Mr. Wazingwa said that unless Chiefs were given government
transport like Ministers, road accidents would not end, but
worsen.
The forty-one-year-old doctor, now resident in Kabwe, also said
the government should convene a meeting with chiefs at which
chiefs should offer white fowls and goats to appease spirits.
Asked what would happen if this was not done, the be-spectacled
‘ambassador’ said political upheavals would result if spirits
were not appeased.
Assisted to overcome his hysteria by President Kaunda’s
representative at the liberation centre in Lusaka and customary
conductor of National anthems at public meetings Mr. Mukuka
Nkoloso, Mr. Wazingwa also had a message for Rhodesian freedom
fighters. He said until the leaders went to the historic Matopos
hills to obtain the blessing of spirits, the freedom struggle
would be unsuccessful.— ZANA.’ [7.1]
On the chiefs’
side one can detect the notion of their being complementary to
the modern state, also in this respect that chiefs seldom or
never (not even in the sensitive domain of chiefly control
over rural land) are reported to claim anything like
auto-nomous and supreme powers. If they demand to be
respected and consulted, it is as part of a wider structure which
also comprises the modern state and its officials. In other
words, chiefs appear to have since long accepted the realities of
the modern state, upon which their colonial recognition and
performance were based in the first place. This very significant
element comes out clearest in the many cases of chiefs explicitly
appealing to central state authorities for protection and
redress: protection vis-a-vis their own subjects [2.15; 3.21],
vis-a-vis disrespectful civil servants at the local and regional
level[20], vis-a-vis mining
companies [5.13] and journalists [5.24; 5.25]. By stark contrast
with the chiefs’ traditional care for nature, law and order,
Chief Mukuni even seeks the permission from the District Governor
Mr. J. Hamatwi (who often manifests himself as a traditionalist)
before enlisting the services of a witch-finder, and only stages
a rain ritual after the same official has told him to do so.[21]
It is the repetitious and consistent nature of this pattern that
lifts it above the suspicion of being an artifact of
journalists’ self-censoring. The newspaper data available are
sufficiently rich and varied to warrant the assumption that, if
the chiefs’ claims had been more extreme and defiant, we would
have found traces of this.
One gets the impression of a hierarchical model, in which chiefs
perceive the senior government officials as patrons capable of
and prepared to intercede on their behalf. There are more
indications of this state of affairs. Copperbelt chiefs insist on
being ‘toured’ by senior government officials, rather than
resenting this form of exchange between state and chiefs that has
such strong colonial connotations. In Northwestern Province,
chiefs ask their District Governor to communicate to government
the solutions they are proposing for the problem of the rural
exodus. [6.9] A Cabinet Minister speaks out in protection of a
popular candidate in the case of a chiefly succession dispute;
the District Governor for Choma does the same thing.[22] Mr. Joseph Hamatwi, the District Governor for
Kalomo and one who is particularly keen to integrate the chiefs
in his political performance as we shall see below, backs
district chiefs’ plea for national registration to be conducted
at the chiefs’ headquarters instead of distant bomas. [3.9;
3.10]
It is as if the chiefs are jockeying for support and patronage
wherever they can get it, regardless of the very substantial
differences in power and formal institutional position such as
they exist between district governor, Cabinet Minister, etc.; as
if either the whole logic of formal bureaucratic organization,
and its hierarchical overtones, some-how eludes the chiefs, or
they can afford to take short-cuts across it. The very notion of
patronage suggests the crossing of boundaries between
socio-political spheres differing in power; and in this respect
the chiefs seeking to establish ties of patronage with modern
politicians and civil servants are emphatically not civil
servants themselves.
And on an even more personal level the newspaper reports have
already allowed us glimpses of the links that exist between
traditional rulers and the modern state through those of the
chiefs’ subjects and relatives who have become members of the
modern elite: chief Nyalugwe and the Editor-in-Chief of the
Zambia News Agency [2.7]; Chief Mwangala and Minister of State
for Southern Province Mr. Zongani Banda; Chief Chona and the
Vice-President Mr. Mainza Chona; Kunda chiefs and Mr. Patterson
Ngoma, Minister of State in the Office of the President [3.25];
Mr. Chisashi, a Bemba former Chief Councillor, who seeks access
to President Kaunda through Mr. Justin Kabwe, District Governor
for Lusaka Urban. [3.11] Mr. Chisashi was lucky to gain such
access, at a time when a reconciliatory gesture vis-a-vis the
Bemba aristocracy would enable the President to clear further
ground for the introduction of the One-Party State. The fate of
the two Kunda chiefs was somewhat ironic: although ideal chiefs
in so far as they supported the party and advocated rural
development, the President was too busy to meet them. [3.25]
Patrons close to the
central state not always honor the chiefs’ appeals; and the
less so, the more conflictive these appeals are. Above we have
seen the predicament of Chief Kabulwebulwe, who had been removed
from his land at the establishment of Kafue National Park. A
similar case is that of Chief Mburuma of Feira district, whom the
colonial government moved away from his area because it was
invested with tsetse fly. Incidentally, in both cases the Zambian
readers at the time are presented with reports concerning chiefs
who in the past suffered, rather than benefitted, by the colonial
state. Both chiefs now look to the post-Independence state for
redress. And ironically, in both cases, the request to be
restored in their ancestral lands is denied by the Ministry of
Lands and Natural Resources: Kabulwebulwe’s land, now part of
the Kafue National Park, has been set aside for the tourist
industry, whereas Mburuma’s land has been leased, by the
government in conjunction with Chongwe Rural Council, to the Wild
Life Conservation International Group...[23]
These cases appear to be fairly typical of conflicts arising
between chiefs and state officials at the local and regional
level, and subsequently arbitrated by higher government figures
(or requested, by either party, to be thus arbitrated). The
news-paper reports show that conflict over chiefly land is a
frequent issue here [1.1; 2.5; 3.24; 3.23; 3.20], in which chiefs
are confronted by the Ministry of Local Government and Housing;
by a Rural Council; by urban development projects staged by City
Councils in a peri-urban area [2.5; 5.4; 5.5; 5.10 — mainly on
the Copperbelt]; by the Ministry of Lands, Natural Resources and
Tourism; and by the latter’s Forestry Department. [3.24; 3.23;
3.20] That these conflicts are taken very seriously is clear from
the fact that one of them culminated in direct presidential
action[24], whereas another
case — involving Chief Ishinde as discussed above — was
extensively covered by the Times of Zambia and led to
official statements at the highest level of the bureaucracy.
However,
it is most significant that in nearly all cases, such complaints
as brought by chiefs against government departments were
dismissed; the chiefs were denied the redress they were seeking
from their patrons in the state’s centre.
The chiefs’ dependence upon the central state is further
brought out by the chiefs’ receiving a government subsidy. [3.20;
3.23] Many chiefs and modern state officials seem to consider
this monthly payment a regular salary qualifying the chiefs for
the status of civil servants. Mr. Kakoma’s theoretical
observation that these subsidies are a powerful instrument in the
hands of the central state to enforce chiefly conformity, is
aptly illustrated by the deposition of Mr. Suu as Ngambela of the
Litunga.[25]
The subsidy is only one element of a set of formal bureaucratic
arrangements by which the modern state seeks to capture the
chiefs and bring them inside the fold of the modern state
apparatus. A condition for subsidy, as stipulated in the Chiefs
Act, is that a chief upon accession be recognized by the
President of the Republic, and gazetted as such in the Government
Gazette. The newspapers report such gazetting a number of
times for the period covered. [2.1; 2.3; 3.19; 5.25] In addition,
the state seeks to create representative bodies which partly or
wholly consist of chiefs. For unknown reasons (probably chance)
the significance of Rural Councils (in many ways the
post-colonial successors of the Native Authorities) is not
explicitly acknowledged in the newspaper reports, but we do find
mention of one Provincial Council of Chiefs, that of Luapula
Province [1.5], and a number of references to the House of
Chiefs, [2.8; 4.12; 4.31; 6.5] — however ‘obscure’ even a
sympathetic observer like Mr. Kakoma deemed that institution to
be. [2.16] The limited references in the newspaper material
however do not warrant inclusion of a detailed discussion of the
House of Chiefs here (however, cf. van Binsbergen n.d.).
That the chiefs
allow themselves, that they even strive, to be incorporated into
the general fabric of the modern state, its formal organizations
and its political and administrative culture, and that in this
process they do not claim to represent an inde-pendent and
autonomous source of power in the modern state, is also very
clear from the forms and outside appearances they adopt in their
dealings with the central powers.
From numerous other sources than newspaper reports[26] we know that symbols of chieftainship abound at
the chiefly headquarters: ceremonial robes and headdresses,
animal species or parts thereof (e.g. leopard skin, eland tail
fly-switch, hippopotamus tail) which are exclusively reserved to
chiefs, ceremonial ironwork, stools, barges, musical instruments
and musicians, particular architectural details such as royal
shrines, or the royal fence with pointed poles in Western Zambia.
These chiefly paraphernalia in the widest sense are particularly
in appearance during installation and funerary ceremonies. In
addition to these visual material manifestations of
chieftainship, there are the procedures and underlying notions of
courtly culture, which however diverse throughout Zambia tends to
have recurrent features, such as:
— considerable
separation between chief and subjects;
— therefore
communication between chief and subjects takes place through a
commoner senior councillor or ‘Prime Minister’;
— for the same
reason commensality (eating and drinking together) between chiefs
and subjects is restricted;
— there is
avoidance between chiefs who are considered to be of equal power;
— chiefly power
has ecological, sexual and sorcery connotations;
— the domain of
chieftainship and that of death are considered to be mutually
exclusive, hence a living chief’s avoidance of funerals, and
the building of an entire new chiefly capital after a chief’s
death;
— the mechanism of
chiefly succession, in which elders select a suitable candidate
from among a sometimes extensive pool of candidates qualifying by
kinship affiliation to previous incumbents — fixed kinship
rules of inheritance and succession do not play a decisive role;
— the extensive
use of perpetual kinship and positional succession may regionally
link a small number of chiefly titles in a permanent hierarchy
which is expressed in a kinship idiom.
These and many other elements in the contemporary chiefly culture
have undoubtedly undergone changes in recent decades (cf.
Papstein 1985; Prins 1978). For instance, there is a decided move
towards fixed succession rules, and within these, towards
patriliny. Certainly the features as listed above are
neo-traditional in the sense that they have adapted to colonial
incorporation, taking on new paraphernalia (including chief’s
robes and perhaps new types of headdress), assimilating new
organizational princi-ples,[27] and selectively
dropping elements (such as manorial services, slavery, ritual
murders, ritual incest etc.) which were less favoured by the
colonial state, Christianity etc. (cf van Binsbergen, in
preparation). None the less (or rather: precisely in view of
these recent processes of change) it can be said that the culture
of chieftainship is very much alive in rural Zambia.
Now the amazing thing is that very little of this ceremonial and
material culture is carried over to the situations where
contemporary chiefs interact with the modern state and its
officials. Elsewhere (van Binsbergen, n.d.) I make this point at
length with reference to the style of debate and general
procedure of the House of Chiefs. But also the newspaper material
is quite telling in this respect. A picture taken in the House of
Chiefs [3.16] shows gentlemen in European suits, with white
shirts and neckties. Only on very close scrutiny some suits may
turn out to be outmoded and of faded color, and some neckties
clumsily knotted. Only one of the chiefs on display has completed
his European attire with typical headdress such as worn by chiefs
of the Lunda people in Northwestern and Luapula Provinces. Also
in the other visual materials depicting official chief/state
interaction at the country’s centre, neo-traditional elements
do scarce-ly more than sneak in.[28] And
this continues to be the case even in settings which in all other
respects are dominated by European political and religious
(Christian) symbolism. The few examples of such isolated symbols
seeping through are: one or two leopard skins covering Princess
Nakatindi’s coffin during her state funeral, specifically her
funerary service at the Cathedral of the Holy Cross in Lusaka;[29] and a neo-traditional gesture made by Mr. Chisashi
when shaking hands with President Kaunda, both in European suits,
at their reconciliatory encounter.[30]
It is only in the absence of direct official state connotations
that the newspapers allow the chiefs to show more of their
paraphernalia.[31] The newspaper
material further contains pictures of chiefs where modern state
connotations are not so much tucked away under a blanket of
informality, but truly absent. Here neo-traditional
parapher-nalia may outweigh elements of European dress;
incidentally, these pictures suggests considerable, deliberate
posing — they are state portraits emulating the combined
cliches of nobility and of the social uses of photography.[32]
The study of visible symbols of power and their manipulation is
an underdeveloped aspect of Africanist political science. Yet it
should be clear that particularly in these images the
newspapers offer collective representations that make up the
contemporary Zambian political culture. The photographic language
puts across, more effectively and with less offense than the
written word, the subtle accommodation, the avoidance, the
desired hierarchy between the neo-traditional and the modern
political sphere.
In a context where
chiefs seek to emulate a modern, westernized political elite in
style of dress and official speech, and allow their own chiefly
symbolism to go virtually suppressed especially in situations of
direct interaction with state officials, one would not be
surprised to see preciously little of this neo-traditional
symbolism to be incorporated into the modern political culture. President
Kaunda and his senior political and administrative office-bearers
do not (at least not in 1972-73) consistently pose as modern
versions of Zambian chiefs. When the President performs in
major state ceremonies, such as the opening of a session of the
National Assembly [3.2], or when a state portrait is taken, he
wears a self-styled long gown with horizontal multicolored bands
(presumably meant to represent the colors of the Zambian flag).
The gown rests on one shoulder and passes under the other armpit
(so that, again, a short-sleeved white western shirt is visible).
If the overall impression generated by this gown is African (it
might also be Roman or South Asian), it has connotations of West
Africa, Nkrumah, Pan-Africanism. It does not seem to emulate any
style of dress such as existed in precolonial Zambia, yet somehow
may have been inspired by the chief’s gown issued by the
Northern Rhodesian government. On other occasions, only slightly
less formal, the President may wear a white European suit[33] or a gray safari suit. On less formal occasions,
including mass rallies which require a popular appearance, he may
don a multicolored shirt. [3.3; 7.1] The only constant insigne of
his presidential status is the white handkerchief in his left
hand — an idiosyncratic symbol which aptly evokes connotations
of peace, non-violence, cleanliness and sentimentality, but which
draws on symbolic repertoires (European, Christian, Ghandist)
entirely outside the neo-tradition of Zambian chieftainship.
Yet elements from that tradition seep through even in President
Kaunda’s very personal style of leadership.
Like elsewhere in Africa, royal drums are emulated in modern
state ceremonies. Thus the President arrives at a mass rally in
Lusaka ‘in a copper-plated open Landrover, heralded by the
beating of traditional drums.’ [34] As
part of a drive to further African authenticity[35],
not only is a famous traditional dancer decorated on the occasion
of at the Zambian Independence anniversary celebrations in 1972,[36] but at the opening of the fifth session of the
National Assembly, the first after the establishment of the
one-party state, neo-traditional drumming is displayed at an
exceptionally large scale [7.3] — as if continuity vis-a-vis a
more distant past is hoped to make up for the rupture vis-a-vis
the First Republic that is still so near.
Clearly, ceremonial drumming is only one, far from original,
aspect among the many elements of chiefly symbolism that could be
adopted into the modern political culture. This was realized by
the secretary of the Kafue Township Council, Mr. Sondashi, who,
in his evidence before the Chona commission,
‘(...) reiterated
the need to change some policies of colonial bearing to suit the
traditional Zambian conditions. Mr. Sondashi said that one
example of some policies of colonial bearing is the civic
ceremony for urban local authorities. He said that the civic
ceremony should be changed to bring it in line with the
ceremonies performed during the installation of a chief, and
village headman. Mr. Sondashi also suggested that councillors
should be dressed in colourful tribal regalia. Mr. Sondashi said
that the installation of a mayor should be accompanied by drum
beating and dancing in order to attract every resident in town,
to promote publicity and sense of interest and pride among the
residents of the town. (...)’ [1.4]
Earlier, a similar plea was made by the Town Clerk of the Ndola
City Council. [1.4] It is remarkable that both proposals should
come not from national-level politicians (who, as we have seen,
tend to dissemble rather than advocate the ceremonial culture of
chieftainship) but from local government officials: civil
servants who by training are closely familiar with the ceremonial
aspects of the British administrative and judicial culture, and
who throughout the 1970s appear to have been struggling to carve
out a distinct administrative domain for themselves, with as
little control as possible from the national level.
There is a danger to be avoided here. A possible failure to
distinguish between neo-traditional culture in general, and the
culture of chieftainship, may confuse our reading of the data on
this point. For instance, when a name-inheriting ritual was
staged in memory of Mrs. Helen Kaunda [7.14, 7.15], this did not
in the least mean that the President of the Republic intended to
emulate a chiefly rite. Such ceremonies constitute a cultural
practice which is observed throughout contemporary Zambia — for
commoners and royals alike. It is only in the latter sense (of a
largely sub-conscious, symbolic deep structuure) that the
name-inheriting rite could be said to have the basic outlines of
a chiefly installation ceremony. The changes of names that also
urban Zambians frequently undergo point to the fact that this
practice is not restricted to rural traditionalists. If anything,
we encounter in the Chinsali episode an instance of sym-bolic and
ritual bricolage[37]: the
presence of chiefs (among whom two members of the House of
Chiefs, including the Vice-Chairman Chief Mapanza) and commoners
from Southern Province, government officials and journalists
lifts this rather commonplace private kinship rite towards the
national plane (not quite reaching it: Zambia is much, much
larger than Southern Province), and particularly allows us a
glimpse at processes of ethnic mobilization, inter-ethnic
alliance, and the interaction of modern and neo-traditional
political office. But no well-informed Zambian observer would
interpret the episode as an attempt, on President Kaunda’s
part, to pose as a chief: not only does the absence of status
symbols in dress and other paraphernalia preclude this, but also
the selective presence of the Southern Province delegates makes
us all the more aware of the embarrassing absence of local, i.e.
Bemba, chiefs!
So far we have been dealing with the deliberate, and rather
limited, selection of chiefly symbolism for inclusion in the
modern political culture. The other side of the coin is that
modern politicians in Zambia, in ways that defy their conscious
choices and perhaps even their conscious perceptions, operate
within a socio-cultural field where key notions of power and
control are permeated with references to the chiefly model, in
such a way that it is inevitable that such notions are also
projected onto modern officials — even if one of them (Mr.
Siyomunji), as quoted above, insists that they are not chiefs.
Underneath the pragmatic issue of road transport for chiefs, this
seems to be one of the messages implied in the ‘plea from the
spirits’ as discussed above. [7.1] The mechanism also came out,
most clearly, in the Fall of 1972, when the entire country was
anxiously awaiting the rains. In a Letter to the Editor in the Zambia
Daily Mail the old triad:
nature (fertility,
rain)
/ \
political order ___________ morality
was invoked, and the
modern government, in the manner of the ancient chiefs, was held
responsible for drought in the land because it had passed the
immoral Abortion Act:
‘Sir,
Many people complain
about rain which is not coming down. Is it true that story about
the rainmaker of Kalomo whose bones have been exhumed? As an
African, I am supersitious [sic], but not as far as that.
I would rather believe there is no rain this year because of the
Abortion Act. God alone is master of life and also master of
rain. — J. Jere, Lusaka [ 7.7 ]
In Parliament as
well, a play of words could be heard linking modern politicians
and rain in ways that only make sense by reference to the same
triad:
(...) Rural
Development Minister Mr. Reuben Kamanga (...) was replying to a
question from Mr. Nalumino Mundia (ANC, Libanda) [
emphasis original ] who had urged Government to reconsider its
policy in view of the uncertain weather condiitons.(...)
If the rains delayed there would be a poor yield next year
‘‘even if the Chitandika spirits’’ brought rain. [Mundia
still speaking — WvB] Chitandika is another name of the Rural
Development Minister. (...)
Mr. Kamanga said Government was not responsible for controlling
rain — President Kaunda had not appointed a ‘minister of
rain’ in his Cabinet!’ [7.6]
On the district level, Mr. Hamatwi, the District Governor for
Choma, responded in an even more explicit fashion. When members
of the local community attributed the delay of the rains to the
fact that in the course of public works the bones of the old rain
spirit Choonga had been dug up,[38] the District
Governor not only ordered the bones to be buried again, but also
‘(...) instructed
chiefs, churches, rainmakers and all elders in his district to
pray to God for rain. Mr. Hamatwi said Chief Nyawa, who is a
member of the House of Chiefs, travelled more than 50 miles to
present a petition and to know what the government was doing
about lack of rain this season.
Mr. Hamatwi added, ‘‘I have appealed to them to start praying
to God. The prayer should also go to all dead chiefs and
ancestors of Kalomo district.’’ The governor added: ‘Mini
skirted girls and boys in tight trousers should be excluded from
the exercise. Let people brew beer and give their sacrifices to
God to give us rain now.’ — ZANA. [7.11]
The point on decent dress could be seen as a modern variant,
phrased by a modern politician, of the concern for morality that
belongs to the old triad. Thus, the neo-traditional and the
modern political sphere seem to merge entirely in the face of
perennial moral and ecological concerns.
The exploration in
this paper has brought together ample material to demonstrate
that the chiefly model, and the incumbents it defines, constitute
an intimate part of political relations and of the political
culture of post-colonial Zambia.
The notion of fairly rigid separation between chiefs and the
state — both with their appropriate spheres of influence,
symbols of power, and formal legitimation — in itself belongs
to that political culture, and has even found its way into the
products of scholarship and journalism. But in dialectical
interplay with this separateness and avoidance, peripherality and
opposition, we came across many and systematic instances of
state/chief accommodation, incorporation, dual careers in both
the neo-traditional and the modern political sphere, patronage,
economic support and modern constitutional legitimation of
neo-traditonal chiefs.
Are chiefs penetrating the Zambian state, or alternatively is
that state seeking to capture the chiefs’ ideological and
political support in order to reach down to the rural (and the
ineffectively proletarianized urban) masses? These questions no
longer appear to be appropriately phrased, for they suggest more
of a rigid distinction that the actual intertwinement of
activities, roles and cultural aspects between chiefs and the
state seems to warrant.[39] Anyway, if the facts
of chief/state relations in Zambia are so charged with
stereotypes and biases that they have managed to elude academic
treatment so far, it is still somewhat early for theorizing on
this point. Let us cherish the fundamental ambivalence of the
situation as the main result of the present exploration.
This ambivalence permeates Zambian political life, shapes (and
blurs, and denies...) fundamental conceptions of power and
legitimacy in the Zambian political culture, and brings out the
severe limitations (in terms of conceptual model, legitimation
and mobilizing power) of the imported North Atlantic model of the
formally bureaucratic, secular, nationalist state. If the
political culture has continued to hinge, in part, on the chiefly
model, the actual political structures of Zambia, in their
effective exercise of legitimate, popularly supported power,
simply cannot do without chiefs. That, two decades after
Independence, Paramount Chiefs have finally found their way to
the ruling party’s Central Committee is therefore not a
regression to traditionalism, but the mere recognition of this
built-in and persisting ambivalence. Already in 1972, in her
testimony before the Chona Commission, Princess Nakatindi argued
that the House of Chiefs should be given greater powers, by
allowing it to contribute two ministers to the Cabinet [4.31];
and the House should be ‘to be more effective on matters of
tradition’ (a suggestion from the Ndola City Council, [2.8]). A
similar drive to increase the formal powers of the chiefs within
the established institutions of the modern central state could be
detected in Induna Lutangu’s suggestion to the same Commission:
‘that chiefs
should be nominated to become members of Parliament on merit by
the President.’ [4.30]
The newspapers reports picked up these statements not because
they were traditional-istic and out of place, but because they
were in line with deep-seated tendencies in the Zambian political
culture. The chiefs could and can afford such aspirations, and to
a considerable extent have managed to put them into practice, for
two reasons. As products of modern state penetration in the early
decades of colonial rule, the chiefs have in the most literal
sense been part of the modern state ever since the latter’s
implantation in Zambian soil. And secondly the chiefs still
represent, and through their numerous subjects control, an
indispensable part of the ideology that defines social order,
legitimacy and power in the contemporary Zambian context — not
just by reference to a distant past, but also to values, norms,
procedures and cultural forms that are still very much alive.
But against such assertive claims of the chiefs’ political
competence and popular support, there is always, as the other leg
of the fundamental ambivalence, the chiefs’ quest for patronage
and protection, their awkward use of the state’s organizational
logic and symbols of power, their occasional reverting to almost
colonial models of deference and submission vis-a-vis the state.
The academic, external view of chieftainship as representing a
separate field of traditional political careers, aspirations and
values totally different from modern life (as centring on the
state, bureaucratic rationality, capitalism and modern urban mass
cul-ture) has thus been rendered untenable. Even if Princess
Nakatindi’s is an extreme case, we cannot escape the conclusion
that state and chieftainship are closely inter-locking aspects of
modern Zambian life. In the face of the evidence one can no
longer maintain the fiction that modern political and
neo-traditional leadership constitute two totally separated
worlds, each with a logic, a field of relationships, a history of
its own.
While working further on the empirical picture for the colonial
and postcolonial period, the unraveling of the theoretical
puzzles involved will keep us occupied for some time to come.
[1]Cf. Prins 1980; Mutumba Mainga 1973; Coillard 1971.
[2]7.20. Senior Chief Chiwala’s pragmatic attitude has
two sides. On the one hand he is keenly interested in taking
development initiatives in his area. On the other hand, as an
incumbent of an immigrant Swa-hili chiefly title established less
than a century ago among the local Lamba — and still strongly
resented by some of them [5.24] —, he cannot be expected to
take to heart the interest of pre-existing local cults of the
land (in which the Chilengwalesa — meaning: ‘God’s
Creation’ — Lake in question, also called Sunken Lake, has
clearly been a central place). On the history of the Chiwala
title, cf. Namushi & Mwewa 1972; Brelsford 1965; and, in
Zambian newspapers of the period covered, 5.26, 5.27. On the cult
of the land in this part of Zambia, cf. Doke 1931; and in
general, van Binsbergen 1981: ch. 3.
[3]7.4; 7.5; 7.5a;
also cf. Shimwaayi Muntemba 1970.
[4]One example is the following:
‘Ndola
City Council has suggested that (...) [t]he House of Chiefs
should be remodelled and their powers increased so that they
become more effective on matters of tradition (...). This was
among recommendations made by the Council to the Commission of
Inquiry into a One-Party State, which is now preparing its
findings for presentation to the President.’ [2.8]
Likewise, Senior Chief
Mushili calls himself ‘a traditionalist’. [5.9]
[5]I.e. miniskirts, an attire much debated in Zambia at the
time.
[6]2.10; 2.18; 5.8; 5.17; 5.18; 5.27; the latter 4 cases
all involve Copperbelt chiefs. These chiefly aspirations of
course touched on the prerogatives of the Police department in
the Copperbelt, and newspaper reports reflect senior Copperbelt
chiefs views of the police. Senior Chief Chiwala requests an
extension of police services in his area [5.17]. By contrast, the
member of the House of Chiefs, Senior Chief Mushili, in his
statement to the Chona Commission, is very critical of the way
police officers cannot carry out their duties without
interference from politicians. [5.7]
[7]4.25; 4.26; 4.32; 5.5; 5.16; 5.17; 5.18; 5.19; 5.22;
5.23; except item 4.25 (which is on Solwezi), these cases all
involve Copperbelt chiefs.
[8]5.20; the chief in question, Senior Chief Chiwala, was
an assistant health inspector before his accession to the throne.
[9]Cf. Aihe 1972;
Colson 1976; Hoover et al. 1970; Spalding 1970.
[10]Chief Chibuluma [2.4]; in this modern capacity, the
chief took the opportunity to criticise the performance of
Zambia’s National Agricultural Marketing Board, on which both
modern farmers and peasant farmers are entirely dependent for
inputs and for the marketing of their cash crops.
[11]3.22; Northern Province chiefs’ statements in defense
of chitemene are however also reported: 6.2; 6.3.
[12]including the Lozi and the Nkoya of Western Province;
cf. Molteno 1974; van Binsbergen 1985a.
[13]On the complex
language situation in Zambia, cf. Kashoki 1978.
[14]2.6. The case is not without parallels elsewhere in
contemporary Zambia: shortly before World War II the Nkoya Chief
Mutondo Muchaiyila was deposed and for ten years even exiled from
Kaoma district to Kalabo district; when his successor Chief
Mutondo Kapulikila died in 1982, the aged ancient chief was
reinstated.
[15]5.20. Outside the 1972-73 newspaper material, many
similar cases could be cited. E.g. among twentieth-century Nkoya
chiefs of Kaoma district (cf. van Binsbergen, in preparation),
Chief Mutondo Kanyinca, who reigned between World War I and II,
started his career as a boma messenger; Chief Mutondo Kapulikila
was a teacher before accession; Chief Kahare Kabambi, a
longstanding member of the House of Chiefs, has not only been a UNIP
trustee but likewise started his career as a boma messenger
before succeeding his father, Chief Kahare Timuna, in 1955.
[16]Gann 1958; Niddrie 1954; Philpott 1945; Stokes 1966. The
southern town of Livingstone was the capital of Northern Rhodesia
until the mid-1930s.
[17]Thus it was used by the Cabinet Minister for Western
Province when speaking at the installation ceremony of the new
Ngambela [4.2 as quoted below].
[18]2.8; 2.19; cf. Republic of Zambia 1972.
[19]4.28 (the Litunga); 4.31 (Princess Nakatindi); 5.7
(Senior Chief Mushili Mushili); 4.29 (a Lozi induna); 5.8.
[20]3.21; in a similar vein, Senior Chief Mushili complained
to the Chona Commission that ‘some chiefs were unsure of their
futures because district governors and UNIP regional secretaries
appeared to have taken over their roles.’ [5.7]
[21]7.19; 7.5a; also see below. The chief’s witchcraft
accusations were primarily phrased in terms of intra-ethnic and
inter-gender conflict:
‘The
chief last year had turned down the post saying: ‘‘I don't
want to be a chief, I shall have bought the passport to
death.’’ The chief was afraid to accept the position for fear
to [sic] being bewitched and at that time all women Indunas were
against him.’ [7.19]
Yet they were not without an
ethnic background, which again point to the pivotal role
attributed to chiefs in preserving the integrity of the local
people’s land:
‘One
villager Mr. Gabriel Siachisiya said there were many witches in
the village who were carrying bodies of dead men from the
graveyards. These witches also came in the villages at night in
form of ‘‘ghosts’’ and started playing the Makishi
dance. ‘‘You can hear the rhythm but the people
performing are invisible. They even come at the door steps but
you cannot see them,’’ said Mr. Siachisiya.’ [7.19;
emphasis added — WvB]
In other words, in this area
populated by Toka and Leya people, anti-social elements are
associated not only with women but also with the Makishi dance:
part of a cultural complex centring on male circumcision and
initiation (cf. McCulloch 1951), which numerous Luvale, Luchazi
and Chokwe immigrants from Angola have brought with them to West
and South West Zambia since the 1910s and particularly the 1960s;
cf. Colson 1970.
[22]4.14; 3.12; 3.15; in another similar case interference
from an unnamed ‘top civil servant’ is merely hinted at:
2.12.
[23]1.1. Feira chiefs appear to be particularly troubled by
colonial connotations. On another occasion they propose to change
the allegedly meaningless Portuguese name of Feira (which
incidentally has the sound historical meaning of ‘market’,
‘fair’) into Luangwa district, apparently not realizing that
the latter, admittedly Bantu, hydronym is not only the name of a
river, but also an early colonial name for much of Eastern
Zambia. 6.7; cf. Gann 1958, 1964; Stone 1979.
[24]5.4: President Kaunda imposed a deadline within which
agreement had to be reached in the conflict over the proper
jurisdiction of Chipulukusu squatter township, between Senior
Chief Mushili and the Mpongwe Rural Council on the one hand,
Ndola City Council on the other.
[25]4.15; 4.16. Less than a year earlier however an other
Lozi Induna, apparently unheedful of this danger, had advocated
that also Silalo (the Litunga’s Council) indunas should be paid
from public funds [4.30]. And more in general, cf. Kakoma’s
argument as cited above. [2.16]
[26]E.g. Chiwale 1962; Brelsford 1965; Gluckman 1968;
Papstein 1978, 1985; Fagan 1961; Yeta 1956; van Binsbergen in
press; references cited there; and personal observations: I
visited Senior Chief Chiwala in April, 1972 (with M. Wright and
Q.N. Parsons); Chief Mukuni in December 1972; established close
relations with Chief Kahare, a member of the House of Chiefs,
during his official visits to Lusaka in 1972, lived at his
headquarters during a week in May 1973 and from August 1973-April
1974, September-November 1977 and September 1978; in 1977, I also
conducted extensive interviews at the headquarters of Chief
Mutondo, and less extensive ones at those of Chief Kabulwebulwe.
[27]Particularly: the extreme emphasis on fixed territories
of jurisdiction and fixed hierarchies between chiefs in a region
— in a way which emulates the colonial bureaucratic logic —
cf. Chanock 1985.
[28]Above I referred already to the visit of two Kunda
chiefs to Lusaka, where they were in the care of Mr. Patterson
Ngoma, Minister of State in the Office of the Presiden, and one
of their Kunda subjects. The picture to accompany this item
[3.25] shows a group of persons standing behind or sitting at the
feet of two persons on chairs: an elderly man and a woman in her
thirties. The woman, holding two children, and dressed in an
ordinary bright sleeveless blouse and chitenge skirt which
in no way distinguish her from any Zambian peasant woman visiting
town, turns out to be Senior Chief Nsefu; her elderly companion
is her junior chief, Munkhanya, in a shabby version of the
western suit, tie and white shirt. The only persons wearing
insignia of office are two kapasus (chief’s retainers),
in their khaki uniforms seamed with red. The Minister himself is
shown in the picture as informally dressed in a white shirt and
dark trousers.
[29]4.11. A posed portrait [4.13] of Princess Nakatindi, not
depicting any recognizable interaction setting, shows her in the
Victorian dress that women missionaries at the end of the last
century introduced in Barotseland and that was to become the
region’s ‘national dress’ for women. Here again specific
chiefly symbolism is largely absent, although the heavy ivory
beads of her necklace could be construed to amount to such
symbolism.
[30]3.1. Mr. Chisashi, when extending his right arm to shake
hands with President Kaunda, supports that arm near the wrist
with his left hand — a perfectly common neo-traditional gesture
of politeness but one without specific political implications.
The President, on his part, is holding his white handkerchief
in his left hand, and so can afford not to return the gesture
without giving offence.
[31]An interesting contrast can be noted in this respect
between two pictures taken near Chinsali, Northern Province,
President Kaunda’s home area. I already mentioned that in
mid-August, 1972, the President’s family staged here a
name-inheriting ceremony in which — after a cultural practice
generally observed throughout contemporary Zambia — the name of
the recently deceased Mrs. Helen Kaunda, the President’s
mother, was given to a junior relative. No doubt as a
manifestation of the Bemba/Tonga alliance which had come to
dominate Zambian national politics as from 1968, the ceremony was
attended by ‘74 mourners who had travelled all the way from
Gwembe in Southern Province’ [7.15a]; a Times of Zambia report
[7.15] puts their number at 80, and specifically mentions as
leading members of the delegation: Senior Chief Mweemba, Chief
Monze, Chief Mapanza, Mrs. Mapanza, Monze District Governor Mr.
Cox Sikumba, and a prominent Monze UNIP member, Mr. George
Cornhill. In one picture President Kaunda and Mrs. Kaunda are
shown sitting next to Chief Monze, Chief Mweemba, and Mr.
Sikumba. The men are all wearing informal European dress:
open-collared shirts, and trousers in a contrasting color, only
in Chief Monze’s case completed by an equally informal jacket.
There is no sign whatsoever of either presidential or chiefly
status — except perhaps that President Kaunda clutches his
inseparable white handkerchief in his left hand. It is only on a
second photograph, showing Chief Mweemba alone at Mrs. Helen
Kaunda’s grave with a European-type wreath in his hands, that
the chief wears, on top of his very same multicolored shirt, the
long bicolored ceremonial robe of the type issued to chiefs by
the colonial state. Significantly, the latter picture was
published a day later. [7.14]
[32]Chief Chiwala for instance is shown [5.18] wearing a
modern white shirt, but over it he has put a dark striped garment
and on his head a dark furry cap reminiscent of a fez — while
his short beard and moustache also add to his striking
appearance. Yet, in a country like Zambia where Muslims
constitute a very tiny minority (in 1972 an estimated 10,000 on a
national population of 5 million, or 0.2 %), this image may
invoke Islamic rather than chiefly associations. However, another
photograph, taken during a visit of Copperbelt Permanent
Secretary Mr. Ngwane to Senior Chief Chiwala’s headquarters,
shows the chief in informal multicolored shirt and contrasting
trousers similar to those worn by the senior civil servant
[2.11]: again, in the presence of the state neo-traditional
symbols are shed. Chief Nkolemfumu, one of the most senior Bemba
chiefs, is pictured [6.2] next to a newspaper report on his
private visit to the Copperbelt, where he issued a careful
statement on the controversial chitemene agricultural
system of his people: it can be read as being in support of both
the old methods and the official anti-chitemene policy as
propounded by President Kaunda. Like the House of Chiefs members,
the elderly chief’s attire consists of white shirt, dark
European-style jacket and necktie, but on his head he dons a
neo-traditional headdress in the form of a crochet bonnet of a
light color with two horizontal bands in a darker color. [6.2]
Also [7.14] is a case in point, cf. preceding footnote.
[33]E.g. during the Independence anniversary celebrations at
State House, 24 October, 1972: 7.12.
[34]3.3; copper, as Zambia’s main export product, is a
dominant national symbol, and used as such in the national flag,
the souvenir industry, etc.; also the roof of the National
Assembly building in Lusaka is copper-plated.
[35]Zaire’s President Mobutu, who had then only recently
launched that concept as a keystone in national mobilization, was
a guest of honour at the Zambian Independence anniversary
celebrations in 1972, along with his Tanzanian colleague
President Nyerere; 7.12.
[36]7.12; among the 43 people decorated on that occasion
were two chiefs: Senior Chief Muchinda, and the Lozi chieftainess
Mulena Mukwae Makwibi.
[37]Social actors’ idiosyncratic free variation and
experimentation on the basis of a selection of pre-existing
socio-cultural material. The term has originally, in the work of
Levi-Strauss, a somewhat more specific, structuralist meaning.
[38]7.10; on the rain cult in Southern Zambia, cf. Colson
1962; O’Brien 1983.
[39]It is therefore increasingly doubtful whether the
political, judicial and symbolic aspects of contempor-ary
chieftainship in the South Central African and Southern African
context could be adequately accounted for in terms of articulation
of modes of production, as recently advocated by Beinart
(1985). As a particularly sophisticated form of dualism, which
has proved its usefulness when applied to a great many aspects of
modern African society (e.g. van Binsbergen & Geschiere
1985a), I would limit its application in the field of
chieftainship to the economic domain: production, exploitation
and circulation (van Binsbergen & Geschiere 1985b). An
approach whose main purpose is to account for the discrete,
mutu-ally irreducible logics of the various articulated modes,
does not seem to fit the pattern of intertwinement and
accommodation found in the data as examined in my present
argument.
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