Violence at a time of celebration
The horror of the past week intruded and overwhelmed everything else I wanted to say: the bombing of the UN building in Abuja, a market burned in Kaduna, other Boko Haram violence in Adamawa and Bauchi, the attack by Christian youth on Muslims during Sallah festivities in Jos, black Africans being targeted in Libya by […]
The horror of the past week intruded and overwhelmed everything else I wanted to say: the bombing of the UN building in Abuja, a market burned in Kaduna, other Boko Haram violence in Adamawa and Bauchi, the attack by Christian youth on Muslims during Sallah festivities in Jos, black Africans being targeted in Libya by the new rebel government. I am tired and angry and overwhelmed by the violence. I don’t understand it. I don’t understand the hate that oozes into the atmosphere and makes people, especially those who claim to be following God, kill each other.
In an attempt to understand, I turn to Mark Juergensmeyer’s 2003 book, Terror in the Mind of God: the Global Rise of Religious Violence. He tries to make sense of why religious people with a highly moral view of the world turn to violence, and points out that: “it takes a community of support and, in many cases, a large organizational network for an act of terrorism to succeed. It also requires an enormous amount of moral presumption for the perpetrators of these acts to justify the destruction of property on a massive scale or to condone a brutal attack on another life, especially the life of someone one scarcely knows and against whom one bears no personal enmity. And it requires a great deal of internal conviction, social acknowledgment, and the stamp of approval from a legitimizing ideology or authority one respects.”
Juergensmeyer cites examples such as the release of nerve gas on Tokyo subways in Japan, suicide bombings performed by Hamas, and violence committed against Palestinians by Zionist nationalists in Israel, abortion clinic bombings in the U.S. by Christian extremist groups, saying that “In all of these cases the activists thought that their acts were supported not only by other people but by a widely shared perception that the world was already violent: it was enmeshed in great struggles that gave their own violent actions moral meaning. […] This is a significant feature of these cultures: the perception that their communities are already under attack—are being violated—and that their acts are therefore simply responses to the violence they have experienced.”
While I remain confused about what exactly Boko Haram wants, the Yusufiyya movement justifies its violence by claims of government persecution and extrajudicial killings of their leader Mohammed Yusuf and other sect-members in 2009. Both Christians and Muslims in Jos and Kaduna justify their violence against each other out of a hardening hatred, pointing to an increasingly horrific history of atrocities committed by the “other side.” Each side has stories they use to claim that they are merely seeking revenge. Light-skinned Libyans apparently rely on rumours and pre-existing racism to target those they claim are “foreign mercenaries” fighting for Gadhafi, yet it seems that any dark-skinned person becomes suspect, migrant workers from other parts of Africa and even the large population of black Libyans who have nowhere else to go.
The attempt to claim a particular social group as the rightful owners of the place, labeling anyone else as intruders to be scapegoated when things go wrong, is also evident in the recent election violence against Christians in Kano, and the Sallah violence against Muslims in Jos.
I have Christian Hausa friends, indigenes of Kano, who have been denied scholarships, arrested on false accusations, and attacked by neighbors during the election riots in Kano, and Muslim Hausa friends in Jos whose families have been there for generations but who have been attacked by Christians and called settlers who don’t know their proper place. Like black Libyans, these places are their homes. They have nowhere else to go. They live as minorities in increasingly hostile environments.
What are the solutions? I honestly don’t know. In situations as complex and messy as the ones I’ve cited, there are no simple or easy answers. I do think the absence of justice gone through proper process is feeding the feeling that communities must carry out their own vigilante justice. Yet actions committed out of loyalties to one’s own ethnic, religious, and political identity only undermine larger networks of connections that knit together society. Those who organize violence need to be arrested through due process, not guilt-by-association, and tried in a court system dedicated to justice, not the perpetuation of power by a certain group. As controversial as this week’s release of Boko Haram prisoners in Kano by Governor Kwankwaso was, it seems to me that it was an attempt to address this problem of due process. The men, some of whom may have even been innocent bystanders caught up in the arrests, had been held for years without trial and were being used by the larger Yusufiyya movement as justification for violence. It remains to be seen if this gamble will pay off or just put more bitter warriors back into circulation, but Boko Haram will no longer be able to cite the imprisonment of their members in Kano as a motivation.
However, if Kwankwaso is going to release members of Boko Haram from Kano’s prisons, justice needs to be equally distributed. The case of other prisoners languishing in prison without trial should be looked into. His administration needs to assist the federal government in the investigation of recent election violence and the activities of those who may be plotting further violence in Kano state and make well-informed arrests where necessary. This should include following up on the previous Kano government’s abandoned promises to investigate the February 2008 destruction of the Giginyu ECWA church by its neighbors and appropriation of its titled land by the government. Likewise, in Plateau State, Governor Jang’s government needs to take attacks on Muslim communities and mosques as seriously as attacks on Christians and churches. The perception of bias and religious/ethnic favoritism in who receives justice and compensation only fuels the anger of those who would plot violence.
Even if the government fails in its duty to properly investigate injustice and terrorism, communities must strengthen themselves by reaching across ethnic and religious boundaries and committing not to tolerate those among them who would destroy the lives and property of their neighbors. Christian communities must stand firmly against Christians who plot attacks on Muslims, just as Muslims must stand firmly against Muslims who would use violence to achieve their goals. Both communities must also denounce the violent rhetoric which fuels and escalates crises. In fact, we must go beyond just denunciation and actively seek ways to build interfaith/inter-ethnic friendships through sports, music, and other mutual interests, joining hands to improve living conditions through attention to education, environment, and infrastructure. Ultimately, peace-building simply requires people who are willing to walk in each other’s shoes for a while and acknowledgement that they need themselves, holding one another accountable to being their brother’s keeper.