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Multiple citizenship in Lesotho

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Continued from last week

How would a Change in Section 41 benefit Political Stability in Lesotho?

The effectiveness of Section 41 of Lesotho’s Constitution depends on other countries’ laws: an individual who can acquire Lesotho’s citizenship first can later easily acquire and enjoy citizenship of any country, or countries, that grant citizenship rights without requiring renunciation of current citizenship.

That being the case, of the many questions that may be asked, then, the first one would be: If, as we have argued, Lesotho anti-dual citizenship laws are not completely efficacious in their attempt to prohibit dual citizenship, is it necessary to change Section 41 and subordinate laws?
The answer to the question is in the affirmative. Section 41 needs to be changed because it was intended to prohibit dual citizenship, and sometimes intention of the lawmaker is enough grounds to be basis of judgement in cases of dispute.

In this instance, the courts may find against a Lesotho citizen who acquired citizenship of another simply because he is citizenship of a country whose legal regime was intended to prohibit dual citizenship. We need constitutional changes whose intention is to allow dual citizenship, and laws which will be efficacious in supporting the idea and practice of dual citizenship.

As a small country that lies entirely within the boundaries of South Africa, Lesotho has had relationships with South Africa which have been, largely, shaped by the differing economic positions of the two countries.  When, during lifaqane, in the early 1820s, Basotho were faced with hunger and starvation that resulted from the instability of lifaqane, they scattered throughout modern South Africa, and as far as the Cape Colony, where some were employed in various occupations, and accumulated some wealth which they brought to Lesotho when they returned, in the 1830s.

When, in the thirty years that followed, Basotho found themselves being increasingly squeezed on small territory, as a result of loss territory and arrival of more groups fleeing wars and environmental disasters,15 the stability of the polity was possible because Basotho had legal and illegal access to economic activity in territory across colonial boundaries.
To the extent that some of the activities to gain access to means of livelihood were illegal, they were a direct cause of military conflicts between Free State Boers and Basotho—the most decisive of which was the 1865-1867 war.

For purposes of this paper, it is important to state that, Britain’s decision to colonise Basotho and what was left of their territory, in 1868, was driven by concerns over the political instability that the wars caused in the Mohokare Valley, and British officials’ recognition that, political instability inhered in circumstances that had been created in the Mohokare Valley since the 1830s. As Michael Ward pointed out, British colonial rule in Lesotho put more “…emphasis…on establishing and maintaining stable…” political conditions in the territory.

It was not that colonisation per se would restore political stability in Basotho polity and Basotho’s relations with the adjacent settler community. Rather, as a regional colonial power, Britain had resources and power in the region to establish necessary economic and political conditions that would undermine instability-causing conditions. Such powers included the power to allow Basotho movement and access to the larger political economy of the region.

Thus, under colonial rule, Basotho’s social order was stable because the colonial government encouraged various forms of dependence on economic activity across the border. For over a century, individuals and whole families went to work in the mines, farms and industry, and sent money to relatives left in Lesotho.

Some returned, and others settled permanently. In these ways, relationships that people of Lesotho established with South Africa over the years were not only economic but, just as important, they were also social.

Changes in Lesotho’s citizenship laws would make it easier for people to pursue citizenship of South Africa without any fear of breaking the law, and without fear of implications of renouncing their citizenship of Lesotho.

This done, access to livelihood opportunities, such as existed under colonial rule, would be open to Basotho holders of citizenship of both Lesotho and South Africa. In this way, the political instability that is caused by the weaknesses of Lesotho’s economy and restricted opportunities could be greatly reduced.

Throughout, economists and others who have studied Lesotho’s economy have been unanimous in their prognosis that Lesotho’s current and future economic prospects are bleak. After describing Lesotho’s economic situation and analysing prospects the country’s economy, as independence approached, in 1966, Michael Ward observed:

The economic prospects for Lesotho… are dim and in the short run [the country] has virtually no hope of becoming economically viable or independent of South Africa…

Some twenty years later, in 1986, Paul Wellings observed:

…there can be few countries with poorer prospects than Lesotho for the development of a viable domestic economy. Whilst international aid has become increasingly important to Lesotho’s development effort, the country survives only through its participation in the South African regional economy, and remains heavily dependent on South Africa.

After close to forty years of independence, and after experimentation with all manner of policies of economic development, one of the prominent economists who have studied Lesotho’s economy for many years, concluded, in 2004, that there is very little that can be done to make the country’s economy viable. In his own words,

It is difficult to envisage a set of policies that could change Lesotho’s status from what it now is: a relatively impoverished peripheral appendage to South Africa from which the more talented, skilled, industrious, or desperate will increasingly migrate to more prosperous places in South Africa.
This means that, to the extent that connections can be made between the weakness of Lesotho’s economy, on the one hand, and persistent political instability, on the other, attempts to tackle the problem of instability through changing the country’s economic fortunes alone seem hopeless.
Enabling Basotho to acquire citizenship of South Africa — and that of other countries they may wish to acquire — will help improve conditions of many who work in South Africa under current conditions. Currently, many Basotho who enter the South African labour market as casual labourers experience horrendous exploitation by employers, and at border posts between Lesotho and South Africa.

South African employers of Basotho casual labourers pay them bad wages, and even refuse to pay, knowing full-well that, as illegal workers, they have no rights and they cannot complain about their treatment officially.

Arriving back at border posts on their way home with the little they make as illegal casual labourers, they find Lesotho and South African immigration officials accusing them of having overstayed in South Africa, and demanding bribes in return for not pressing charges against them.
Politically, people in diaspora — such as Basotho holders of dual citizenship would become if they chose to reside in South Africa — are much more nationalistic, patriotic, and have more romantic perceptions of their countries of birth than those who remain at home.

This makes them important ambassadors of their countries. In this way, wherever opportunities present themselves, they promote the courses of their countries of birth. Thus, for example, in US national elections, people from, say, Turkey, who gain American citizenship, vote for a party which promises to maintain, or improve, Turkey’s benefits on the international economic and political stages.

This may happen with Basotho who acquire citizenship of, say, South Africa, and take part in the country’s national and local elections.
Perhaps a most compelling argument for allowing Basotho acquire citizenship of other countries whose citizenship they may wish to acquire, applies to acquisition of South Africa’s citizenship. There is very little doubt that, existing geopolitical conditions restricting Basotho’s citizenship to a small country with an unlikely economy were fashioned under colonial and settler injustice. As if this was not enough, confined to this small economically unviable territory, Basotho and their country bore political, economic and social costs creating South Africa’s prosperity.

As matters stand, it is not the families of majority of migrant workers whose labour built South Africa’s prosperity who benefit from that prosperity; instead, it is a section of Lesotho’s middle classes who are able to acquire South Africa’s citizenship, the law notwithstanding.
Allowing Basotho to acquire South Africa citizenship will go some way to redress these injustices of exploitation, conquest, exclusion, and others.
Fortunately, Lesotho’s Judiciary has already provided leadership on the issue of dual citizenship by criticising, and ruling against, the state’s attempts to enforce Lesotho’s current anti-dual citizenship laws.

A recent example of this was a case between Adam Pholoana Lekhoaba et al., on the one hand, and Director of Immigration and Others, on the other. Reverend Lekhooaba was a Mosotho who had lived in South Africa and acquired citizenship rights of that country.
After years of living in South Africa, he had returned to Lesotho and established a radio station which was critical of politicians in power at the time. In March, 2007, government of Lesotho decided to deport him on grounds that he was a South African citizen. In his judgement, Judge S. N. Peete said:

The concept or phenomenon of “dual citizenship” prohibition is in my view predicated upon traditional notions of nationhood and sovereignty and upon attendant rights and obligations of the citizen; that is: You are a citizen of country X and cannot contemporaneously enjoy citizenship rights of country Y.

This prohibition, the Judge pointed out, is “[a]rchaic… in a global and cosmopolitan world of today”.

Reservations

There may, also, be fears that, by allowing Lesotho’s citizens to gain citizenship rights of other countries, the country may lose its sovereignty, and lose sovereignty over its people. Perhaps Lesotho’s fears of this nature should be even greater, given that, its only neighbour is many times more powerful, and has many times more opportunities.

Smaller countries, like Denmark, have similar fears about their membership of European Union with more powerful and economically stronger neighbours, such as Germany. However, loss, or waning, of sovereignty is a reality that many countries face, including nation-states more politically powerful, and more economically well-resourced, than Lesotho.

The response of many countries to waning sovereignty over citizens has not been prohibition, or continued prohibition, against dual citizenship; instead, the response has taken the form of attempts at managing the contradiction of maintaining nation-statehood in a world in which many forces are working against some core, or ‘traditional’, characteristics of nation-statehood.

Part of the title of James Cobbe’s work, quoted above, is the question: “Will the Enclave [i.e. Lesotho] Empty?” Applied to this paper, the question would be: “Will Basotho leave Lesotho to settle in the Republic of South Africa, if they were given, and used, the opportunity to acquire South African citizenship?”

The answer to this question is uncertain, and depends on many known and unknown factors, and on how things will develop. However, the fact that we do not know what will happen next is no justification to continue constitutional prohibition against dual citizenship.
There is need to act on the basis of a reality that we know of the relationship between current conditions of Basotho’s livelihood, on the one hand, and persistence of political instability in the country, on the other.

A political reservation that some may have regarding changing the law to allow multiple citizenship is that, there is no guarantee that a diaspora community will always act in the interests of their country of birth — they may also act in the interests of their acquired home-country with potential for undesirable consequences for their country of birth.

A powerful diaspora originally from a country with a weak economy and a weak government can exert different kinds of pressure in ways that benefit their adopted country, or their lifestyle in their adopted country. Again, response to this should not be prohibition but management of the challenges that may arise.

Partner to Tango

Were Lesotho’s citizenship law to change, Basotho who wish to gain citizenship of another country and retain their citizenship of Lesotho would gain opportunity to apply for citizenship of any other countries that allow such an arrangement. In practice, however, for historical, social and political economy reasons, the ‘other citizenship’ that most Basotho are more likely to wish to acquire is South Africa’s. The question, then, would be whether it would be possible for Basotho who wish to do so, to acquire South African citizenship.

In some ways, it can be argued that, in fact, the question does not arise because South African citizenship laws allow for dual citizenship, and all what Basotho who wish to can apply for South African citizenship once Lesotho’s citizenship laws are changed.
However, the sense in which the question is relevant is that, in the circumstances of the two countries, Lesotho and South Africa would need to agree terms which would oblige South African government to treat Basotho’s application of South African citizenship differently from applications of citizens of other countries.
On these grounds, the question — whether it would be possible for Basotho who wish to do so, to acquire South African citizenship — needs to be raised, and attempts made to address it.
The present generation of political leadership in South Africa are inheritors of a long-standing recognition, among Africanists and African nationalists in South Africa, that land left to Basotho after years of settler and colonial land dispossession in the nineteenth century is not enough to reproduce life.
Evidence of the existence of this recognition includes the fact that, in general, the South Africa liberation movement was well-disposed towards any decision Basotho might make in the nature of their country’s relations with South Africa; this could inclusion anything from dual citizenship to some kind of union with South Africa.

As was stated in the Freedom Charter, “The people of the protectorates, Basutoland, Bechuanaland and Swaziland shall be free to decide for themselves their own future…”. For their part, during the struggle against minority-rule, the labour formations aligned to the liberation movement committed themselves to work for a “…non-racial democratic state…”which “… would actively seek to promote regional economic cooperation along new lines — in ways that would not be exploitative and will correct imbalances in current relationships…”

Specifically, two leaders of the ANC appreciated consequences of historical problem of colonial and settler expropriation of Basotho’s land, and showed themselves to be well-disposed to consider proposals for change in the status quo. Thus, in 1982, Oliver Tambo was quoted as having told a press conference that

…he had agreed with Lesotho leaders on the issue that they should fight for restoration of their land once the struggle for freedom had come to an end. He said that did not mean Lesotho would have abandoned its fight for restoration of its land which is known to stretch as far as Lekoa river and to be bearing diamonds and gold.

Further, visiting Lesotho, as recently as 1995, Nelson Mandela undertook to consider overtures that Lesotho government might make to South Africa regarding access to the sea. Highly welcome as it was, success of the labour movement, in 1995, in securing South African government’s agreement to grant permanent residential and citizenship rights to certain categories of migrant workers, did not address issues of dual citizenship. Without constitutional change in Lesotho, it meant that, those Basotho who applied for South African citizenship had to renounce their citizenship of Lesotho and rights attached to it.

This difficulty notwithstanding, it is significant that, in this concession, which was available to migrant workers from all over southern Africa working in South Africa, Basotho migrant miners were in the majority among applicants for the permanent residence permits—a stage in the process to acquire South African citizenship.

Apart from responses of South African political movements, official, and state to overtures regarding Basotho’s access South African citizenship on special terms, there is also popular response to consider; that is to say, the response of the South African middle-class, working-class, street vendors, and others, who may object to having to compete for opportunities with Basotho.

This is a much more difficult task. As of now, it can be said that, together with Batswana and Maswati, Basotho have not been victims of attacks against foreigners in South Africa; there aren’t many reports of difficulties experienced by Basotho mine migrant workers on grounds of their non-citizenship of South Africa; there aren’t many reported difficulties for Basotho who have joined the labour force at white collar and blue collar levels in the public and private sectors.

Nonetheless, it needs to be admitted that, none of this provides a reliable means of assessing South Africans’ popular response to their government agreeing special terms for Basotho’s acquisition of citizenship of South Africa and attendant rights.

Summary/Conclusions

It is arguable that structural and other circumstances of Lesotho’s statehood have played, at least, a part in persistent instability in the country. This being the case, changing Lesotho’s Constitution and relevant subordinate laws to allow multiple citizenship may go a long way to assist efforts to establish political stability in Lesotho by reducing socio-economic and political pressures that cause, or contribute to, the country’s political instability.

Psychologically, such a change would remove a sense Basotho may have, of being cooped up in small territory with limited opportunities, and remove other psychological and material senses of overcrowding; materially, the change will open up possibilities of gaining access to opportunities in other countries and, thereby, reduce socio-economic consequences of overcrowding in a small marginal territory, including political instability.
As indicated above, it is doubtful that Section 41 of Lesotho Constitution is effective in prohibiting dual citizenship, and it is likely that many Basotho already hold citizenship rights of at least one other country over and above Lesotho’s.

Majority of these are likely to be members of Lesotho ruling and middle classes who do not have the same fears of breaking the law as ordinary Basotho, and are able to ignore threats of being excluded from Lesotho.  More importantly, however, this change may make a contribution of very far-reaching consequences in the lives of Basotho who may wish to acquire citizenship of other countries.

By: Motlatsi Thabane

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An open letter to President Hichilema

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Your Excellency,

I am certain that you are wondering where and/or how I have the temerity to write to you directly, but a recent post you put on WhatsApp piqued my interest; your meeting with His Excellency the Prime Minister of Lesotho, and his delegation. The delegation came to introduce to you and your good office the candidate of the Government of Lesotho, for the post of Secretary General of the Commonwealth, Joshua Setipa.

Let me set off by stating that I have a friendship with Setipa, for over 50 years, so I may not be the best person to give an objective appraisal or opinion of him; this I will leave to the government.

Further to that, as a citizen of Lesotho, I may embellish the information that I would provide on Lesotho, thus I will as far as possible keep to information that is contained in books. This is not a research report, but more a simplified literature review of what I have read. I shall not quote them, or reference them, thus allowing others the space to research this matter further.

First, let me state my surprise at the alignment of time that I see; Commonwealth Day in 2024 is on the 11th March, the day we celebrate a life well lived, that of Morena Moshoeshoe.

Further to that, this year also starts the 200th anniversary of the move by Morena Moshoeshoe and his followers from Menkhoaneng to Thaba Bosiu. They arrived at Thaba Bosiu in winter, circa 1824.

Next year, 2025 will also be the 100th anniversary of the ‘plenary’ that saw the birth of this Commonwealth of Nations. A handover from the bi-centenary, to the centenary celebrations.

We are all aware that the Commonwealth was started at the Imperial Conference of 1926, but it had what I call a plenary in 1925; this happened in Maseru, Basutoland. It was held at the ‘secretariat’ building on Kingsway. The building was used as the Prime Ministers’ office after independence, more recently, and to date as the Ministry of Defence.

When King George came to visit Lesotho in 1948, to thank the country and her citizens for their participation in the Second World War, High street as it was then known, had its name changed to Kingsway.

At this plenary Britain called the ANZaC states, Australia, New Zeeland and Canada, together with South Africa. It had been only 13 years (1912) since the Basotho monarch had been asked to attend the formation of the South African National Native Conference (SANNC), whose aim was to preserve African land. The SANNC was the forerunner to the African National Congress (ANC).

With the formation of the Union of South Africa, the union wanted to engulf Bechuanaland (Botswana) Swaziland (eSwatini) and Basutoland (Lesotho). This had been unsuccessful.

Next they came up with the Native Land Act of 1913, to remove African land rights. So, the conference that brought about the birth of the SANNC was a pre-emptive response to this act; an attempt to keep African land rights and traditions intact.

I would like to point out that the founding document of the Imperial Conference that brought about the Commonwealth states that all member states are autonomous and not subordinate to another.

At the time of the plenary, Basutoland was subordinate to Britain. But in a masterstoke became what I believe to be one of the founders of the Commonwealth.

Despite her subordination, Basutoland had placed so strong an objection to the presence of a representative South Africa in Basutoland, that South Africa’s invitation had to be withdrawn, and South Africa did not attend. This was the first ‘anti-apartheid’ shot, made in the world; what is more important is that it was made by an African country.

No matter how one looks at it, she may not have been a ‘founding member state’, but Basutoland was part of the founding fabric of the Commonwealth.

One just has to imagine the anger of the South Africans and their government: Dr. D. F. Malan, the first Nationalist Prime Minister of South Africa, was a minister responsible for housing at that time.

Had Basutoland’s lead been followed, spatial apartheid might never have happened. The Commonwealth would take till the 1960’s, and the formal legalisation/legislation of apartheid to remove South Africa from within her fold. A matter that Basutoland saw as far back as the 1920’s.

As shown, at the conceptualisation of the Commonwealth Lesotho was not just there, but an active and formidable participant; though one has to look further to see her relationship with Great Britain/the United Kingdom.

Basutoland/Lesotho’s history is strange, to say the least. The first Europeans to arrive here in 1833, were French Missionaries. At this time Europe was embroiled in wars, which inevitably included the French and English.

But it is these same priests, most notably Casalis, who helped steer the country to Britain, and British protection. Casalis acted almost as a foreign secretary/minister of foreign affairs at that time.

The first treaty between Basutoland and England was the Napier Treaty of 1843, though it took till 1866 to solidify this treaty into a protected land.

The history of the cavalry in Lesotho, the only African cavalry south of the Sahara, is quite long. It starts in about 1825, when F. D. Ellenberger in his book ‘History of the Basutho’, states that Morena Moletsane had come across gun powder quite by mistake.

They had been raiding a missionary’s home and came across a strange powder, which they found useless, so they threw it into a fire, which ‘exploded’. Thus, to his people called European style housing, ‘Ntlo-ea-thunya’, a house that shoots. But after having his people ravaged/savaged by Mzilikazi, he sent his best warriors to work on Boer farms, and with their remuneration purchase arms and horses.

We are often told of a ‘battle of/at Berea’. My answer is that it was not a battle but a cattle raid. Its importance is not just in the battle, but in democracy. The British called Morena Moshoeshoe ‘paramount chief’, a first amongst the others. The time before Berea shows something slightly different.

As Casalis writes in ‘My life in Basutoland’, the British had demanded 10,000 head of cattle, for stock theft. A great ‘pitso’ was called and all eligible men, those who owned land, were called.

At the end of the pitso, after many votes, the citizens refused to give their cattle to pay the demand of the British. The significance herein is that there was a plebiscite, a vote. Morena Moshoeshoe lost the backing of the people and thus the vote; the British then attacked to ‘collect’ the cattle themselves.

Both Morena Moshoeshoe and Morena Moletsane were heavily involved in the ‘battle’ which was won by the strength of the Basutho cavalry. Looking forward to the gun wars, it was most fortuitous that Morena Moshoeshoe’s ally, Morena Moletsane would outlive him, till the end of the gun wars.

After annexation in 1866, in the mid 1870’s the British, citing distance and as such expense, ceded Basutoland to the Cape, which was what the Basotho had been fighting against for a long time; they wanted direct British rule. They wanted to be ruled by Mofumahali Queen Victoria.

The first, and most critical mistake that the Cape made was, not so much in attacking Morena Moorosi, accusing his son of cattle theft, but in beheading him.

So, when some years later they wanted to disarm the Basutho, and they found those of the south of Basutoland who knew of the beheading, reluctant to go with the plan. The Cape decided to go ahead with disarmament forcefully and met equal if not greater force.

The Basutho were better armed, more knowledgeable on the terrain and better supplied. Helped by his father’s long-standing ally, Morena Moletsane, Morena Lerotholi was able to field a well-armed strong cavalry, which inflict great pain to the Cape.

This led to the Cape defeat. Together with the number of other wars that the Cape was fighting, there was fight fatigue among her people.

So bad was it, that they did not come and collect their fallen troops; in Mafeteng there is a cemetery called ‘mabitla-a-makhooa’, or graves of the white men. The SA Military History Society has a ‘roll of honour’ for some of the dead, as not all were buried in Basutoland.

There are two significant outcomes of the war. In his book ‘The Mabille’s of Basutoland’, Edwin W. Smith states that there was a fact-finding mission to Basutoland by members of the Cape parliament, including Rhodes. Their conclusion was that the Basutho should be handed back to Britain for direct rule; which was the original wish of the Basutho.

As Whitehall was reluctant to take this role back, Basutoland spent a period of close to two years of self-rule. Thus it became the first African country (only?) to unshackle itself of colonial rule. And became the first African country to get the colonial rule it wanted; and re-shackled itself to Britain.

The second is how Britain agreed to go back and rule Basutoland. In his book, Rhodes Goes North, J. E. S. Green shows how the Prime Minister of the Cape went to Britain to sue for peace, and eventually agreed to give Britain 20 000 pounds per annum, of her import tax revenues to govern Basutoland.

Whilst not a founding member of the Commonwealth, Basutoland has carried her fair weight in the battle to save both the Commonwealth, and together the rest of the Commonwealth, the world at large.

Whilst SA will hype the losses during the maritime accident of the SS Mendi in the English Channel, Lesotho is less inclined to speak of the losses on the SS Erinpura. The Erinpura was sunk by German war planes in the Mediterranean Sea. Though I should say that, the prayer of the men on the Mendi would resound so well with those who lost their lives on the Erinpura.

When British Prime Minister, Sir Winston Churchill said; never was so much owed by so many to so few, I am certain he was speaking not just of the people of the British Isles, but the broader community within the Commonwealth, that stood together at this time of international need.

But having heard Sir Winston, there is a special bond of Basutoland within, and with the Commonwealth, that I would like to highlight. Apart from the ANZaC countries and South Africa, there were no air squadrons from other Commonwealth countries that I am aware of; except for Basutoland that is.

They paid for 12 or so Spitfire aircraft that would form the 72nd Basutoland, which flew in the Battle of Britain. No moSotho actually flew (in?) them, but they had been financed by the Basotho.

For all the prowess of a moSotho man with arms, in his book ‘Basotho Soldiers in Hitler’s War’, Brian Gary not only writes about the gift of aircraft that fought in the Battle of Britain, he also shows that Basotho soldiers, who were hauling various ordinances through the Italian Alps, were allowed to carry arms.

Aircraft and carrying arms for an African in World War II; Lesotho is not just a pioneer member of the Commonwealth, but a beacon.

As Lesotho many of these pioneering attributes continued. Whist South Africa was banned from sports and entertainment, Lesotho filled the gap for her. Exiles like Hugh Masekela and Mirriam Makeba were hosted for sell out concerts in Lesotho. South African interracial sports, with matches between the likes of Orlando Pirate, Wits University, Kaiser Chiefs, to name those I remember, started in Maseru.

I have touched on politics and war, sport and entertainment; let me go to superstition. It would go against what is expected of me not to go without anything superstitious.

Britain has given the world three major sporting codes. Rugby, which is dominated by the big three of New Zeeland and South Africa. Cricket, which expands from the rugby three to include India, Pakistan, most of the Caribbean states and a few African counties.

These sports are obviously ‘Commonwealth Sports’, as they are dominated, or played predominantly by Commonwealth countries. They have also given us football. This is a truly global sport, the largest sport played across the world, on all types of surfaces, with all types of round looking objects. We can’t call all of these footballs.

The last time a Commonwealth country won the World Cup it was England in 1966; the year Lesotho gained her independence.

The next World Cup is in 2026, the millennium celebrations of the Commonwealth; who will head the Commonwealth then? Will a Commonwealth team have the necessary ‘juju’ to make it?

Your Excellency, this is but a brief note on Lesotho, and it is my way of using the words attributed to Morena Moshoeshoe, when asking for protection from Queen Victoria that say; take me, and all the lice (those that are symbiotic to me) in my blanket. I do hope that these words will be of use to you as seek consensus on Lesotho and her candidate for the post of Secretary General of the Commonwealth.

Yours truly

Khasane Ramolefe

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Culture quibbles

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A few weeks ago these pages carried a substantial piece by Mokhosi Mohapi titled “A reversal of our traditions and culture”, written in the form of an open letter to the government of Lesotho. The first sentence of Mohapi’s article took me by surprise, as he stated: MPs and Senators’ primary role is to protect and preserve the traditions and culture of the Basotho people. I would have thought the primary role of MPs and Senators would be to ensure that Basotho are secure (being protected, for example, from criminals), that they have adequate access to social services such as education and healthcare, that the economy is sufficiently stable to offer citizens some chance of employment, and so on. Fat chance, you might scoff.

But then I realised that Mohapi had a more specific contention in mind, as he stated: The Laws of Lerotholi were set to protect social order, traditions and culture of Basotho. Mohapi’s immediate concern is with the 2024 Estates and Inheritance Bill, which proposes radical changes to the existing order of things. (See the article in last week’s thepost, “MPs bulldoze through Inheritance Bill”, which gives a good idea of the background).

I’m aware that this Bill has provoked considerable controversy, and that is not my topic in this article. Nor do I wish to contest what Mohapi was saying in his piece — this is by no means a case of Dunton v Mohapi. But I did take note of the way the phrase “traditions and culture” kept resounding in Mohapi’s article, rather like a cracked bell, and what I want to do is open up those terms for examination.

Please bear with me as I slip aside for a moment with a little academic stuff. Back in 2006 I published an article titled “Problematizing Keywords: Culture, tradition and modernity.” For those of my readers with a scholarly bent and who might want to hunt it down, this was published in a journal called Boleswa Occasional Papers in Theology and Religion 2:3 (2006), pages 5-11. There I made a number of points I want to bring up in what follows.

The first fallacy I tackled in that article was the tradition/modernity binary — the notion that in Africa there was tradition and then, wham!, the white man arrived and there was modernity. Are we seriously to believe there were no great cities in Africa before the white man landed, that the peoples of a whole continent lived entirely in villages? Nigeria tells a different story.

Are we to believe there were no great libraries? Mali and Ethiopia tell a different tale. No writing systems? No medicine? I’m not saying that if I’m in pain I don’t prefer a dose of oramorph to an infusion made from some leaves picked off the slopes of Thaba Bosiu, but the point remains: the tradition/modernity binary is crude and crass and it’s demeaning about Africa.

We cannot get very far with simplistic ideas about where we are coming from and where we are at. And yet of course we do come from a past. I’ll quote — or, rather, paraphrase from memory, as I don’t have the work to hand — an observation made by T.S Eliot in his essay “Tradition and the Individual Talent”: We know so much more than those who came before us. But they are a large part of what we know.

But of those who came before who is it, exactly, that we know? When Mohapi repeatedly uses the phrase “the traditions and culture of the Basotho people” I take it he is thinking of the Basotho as constituted under Moshoeshoe I and the descendants of those generations.

For how much do we know about the “traditions and culture” of the various Sotho-speaking groups let’s say two hundred years before Moshoeshoe gathered them together to form the modern Lesotho state? Isn’t it likely there were significant differences between the “traditions and culture” of these groups, differences that were later rationalised or homogenised?

Two points here. First, we mustn’t forget what an extraordinary innovator Moshoeshoe was —and I guess that might be said also of Lerotholi, whose laws are the chief focus of Mohapi’s article. Second, culture is not static, it is not immutable. It evolves all the time.

For example, for how long has it been the case that adherence to the Christian faith could be said to be part of the culture of Basotho? (Or, for how long has football been part of the culture of the English? We are credited with the invention of football, but that doesn’t mean it’s been part of who we are since time immemorial).

That brings me to my next point, or a string of points, moving from England back to Lesotho. When I was a schoolboy I bought myself a copy of the book Components of the National Culture (1968) by the great British Marxist Perry Anderson. One of my schoolmasters — one of the few who didn’t like me — caught me with it and said “just the sort of book I’d expect a troublemaker like you to be reading. Just don’t show it to anyone else!”

The significant term in Anderson’s title is “components.” Culture is put together — it is an assemblage — and its components may have different sources.
That leads me on to the invention of tradition, and an example for Basotho.

I guess all my readers know Qiloane, the sandstone pillar at Thaba Bosiu the distinctive peak of which is said to be the inspiration for the shape of the traditional Basotho straw hat. Well, that notion is dubious to say the least; there were hats of the same shape from elsewhere in the region long before the Basotho got hold of the design.

Does this really matter? Well, no, because even if a tradition is invented, it still has the persuasiveness of a tradition. It’s just that knowing this might dissuade us from making big claims about the unchangeable nature and sanctity of tradition.

And the same goes for culture. I leave you with a quotation from the Ghanaian philosopher Kwame Anthony Appiah (it’s from his terrific book Cosmopolitanism: Ethics in a World of Strangers): We do not need, have never needed, a homogenous system of values, in order to have a home. Cultural purity is an oxymoron.

Chris Dunton is a former Professor of English and Dean of Humanities at the National University of Lesotho.

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Insight

The Joker Returns: Conclusion

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Last week I was talking about how jokes, or humour generally, can help get one through the most desperate situations (although it’s like taking a paracetamol for a headache; a much, much stronger resort is faith). I used the example of how Polish Jews, trapped and dying in the Warsaw ghetto, used humour to get them through day by day.

A similar, though less nightmarish, situation obtains in today’s Nigeria. Conditions there are less hellish than those of the Warsaw ghetto, but still pretty awful. There are massive redundancies, so millions of people are jobless. Inflation is at about 30% and the cost of living is sky-rocketing, with the most basic foodstuffs often unavailable. There is the breakdown of basic social services.

And endemic violence, with widespread armed robbery (to travel by road from one city to another you take your life in your hands) and the frequent kidnapping for ransom of schoolchildren and teachers. In a recent issue of the Punch newspaper (Lagos) Taiwo Obindo, Professor of Psychiatry at the University of Jos, writes of the effects of economic hardship and insecurity on his people’s mental health.

He concludes: “We should see the funny side of things. We can use humour to handle some things. Don’t take things to heart; laugh it off.”

Professor Obindo doesn’t, regrettably, give examples of the humour he prescribes, but I remember two from a period when things were less grim. Power-cuts happened all the time — a big problem if you’re trying to work at night and can’t afford a generator.

And so the National Electric Power Authority (NEPA) was universally referred to as Never Expect Power Always. And second, for inter-city travel there was a company called Luxurious Buses. Believe me, the average Lesotho kombi is a great deal more luxurious (I can’t remember ever having to sit on the floor of one of those).

And because of the dreadful state of Nigerian roads and the frequent fatal crashes, Luxurious Buses were referred to as Luxurious Hearses.

Lesotho’s newspaper thepost, for which I slave away tirelessly, doesn’t use humour very much. But there is Muckraker. I’ve always wondered whether Muckraker is the pen-name of a single person or a group who alternate writing the column.

Whatever, I’d love to have a drink with him / her/ them and chew things over. I like the ironic pen-name of the author(s). Traditionally speaking, a muckraker is a gossip, someone who scrabbles around for titbits (usually sexual) on the personal life of a celebrity — not exactly a noble thing to do.

But thepost’s Muckraker exposes big problems, deep demerits, conducted by those who should know and do better — problems that the powerful would like to be swept under the carpet, and the intention of Muckraker’s exposure is corrective.

And I always join in the closing exasperated “Ichuuuu!” (as I do this rather loudly, my housemates probably think I’m going bonkers).

Finally I want to mention television satire. The Brits are renowned for this, an achievement dating back to the early 1960s and the weekly satirical programme “TW3” (That Was The Week That Was). More recently we have had “Mock the Week”, though, despite its popularity, the BBC has cancelled this.

The cancellation wasn’t for political reasons. For decades the UK has been encumbered with a foul Conservative government, though this year’s election may be won by Labour (not such very good news, as the Labour leadership is only pseudo-socialist). “Mock the Week” was pretty even-handed in deriding politicians; the BBC’s problem was, I imagine, with the programme’s frequent obscenity.

As an example of their political jokes, I quote a discussion on the less than inspiring leader of the Labour Party, Sir Keir Starmer. One member of the panel said: “Labour may well have a huge lead in the polls at present, but the day before election day Starmer will destroy it by doing something like accidentally infecting David Attenborough with chicken-pox.”

And a favourite, basically non-political interchange on “Mock the Week” had to do with our former monarch, Queen Elizabeth II. Whatever one thinks about the British monarchy as an institution, the Queen was much loved, but the following interchange between two panellists (A and B) was fun:

A: Is the Queen’s nickname really Lilibet?
B: Yes, it is.
A: I thought her nickname was Her Majesty.
B: That’s her gang name.

OK, dear readers, that’s enough humour from me for a while. Next week I’m turning dead serious — and more than a little controversial — responding to a recent Insight piece by Mokhosi Mohapi titled “A reversal of our traditions and culture.” To be forewarned is to be prepared.

Chris Dunton

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