The Reach and Boundaries of Moral Concerns: Which Way for British Aid in Africa?

Introduction

The British Prime Minister, David Cameron, during the last Commonwealth meeting in Perth, Australia in 2011 re-echoed what his International Development Minister, Andrew Mitchell, had previously stated that Britain intends to withhold aid from governments that do not reform legislation banning homosexuality. Malawi has since had some of its budget support suspended over concerns about its attitude toward gay rights. Concerns have also been raised with the governments of Uganda and Ghana. Cameron’s position is that those receiving British aid should ‘adhere to proper human rights’ (Andrew Marr Show, BBC 30 October 2011). He further stated that on the said programme that ‘British aid should have more strings attached’.

Although the issue of homosexuality came to the fore during the Commonwealth Conference in October 2011, delegates failed to adopt a recommendation calling for an end to homophobic laws. Some 41 nations within the 54-member Commonwealth currently have laws banning homosexuality. Interestingly, many of these have been a legacy of British colonial laws (BBC Online, 31 October, 2011). The majority of states which have been involved in resisting what they see as the Westernising imperative of universal human rights in general, and homosexual rights in particular, can be loosely classified as falling within the group of postcolonial and usually socio-economically developing nation-states (Obendorf, 1999).

Soon after Cameron’s remarks, a flurry of African governments released defiant statements accusing him of undermining their sovereignty and culture. Ghana’s President, John Mills, stated that ‘Ghana will not legalise homosexuality on the say-so of the British leader, especially when such a move has the potential to destroy the social and moral fabric of the Ghanaian society’ (Joy News, 2 November 2011). Uganda also rejected the threat, with a Presidential Adviser, John Nagenda, accusing the UK of showing a ‘bullying mentality’ (BBC Online, 31 October, 2011). Zimbabwean President Robert Mugabe, known for his anti-gay rhetoric, called Cameron ‘satanic’ for demanding gay rights. In Nigeria, the country’s Senate passed a bill on 29 November, 2011 banning same-sex marriages, in defiance of the British threat. It is still waiting for a presidential assent. On the very day the bill passed through its final reading in the Nigerian Senate, Canada’s Foreign Minister, John Baird, issued a statement saying that his country will continue to oppose Nigeria at every international forum, especially at the Commonwealth, unless the legislation was abrogated (This Day, 19 December 2011).

Though homosexuality remains illegal in many African countries, there is a sense that it is tolerated if done within the confines of one’s bedroom and between two consenting adults. Incidentally, the nexus of religion, culture, social attitudes and legislation have for years created an extremely disempowering environment for same sex rights advocacy in Africa.

This paper examines the issue of homosexuality in Africa and analyses the dilemmas occasioned by this. In doing so, it explores the sociology of human sexuality and also looks at the raging debate over human rights and cultural standards on the continent. The paper is organised as follows. Firstly, it provides an insight into developments and debates surrounding same-sex issues. It then focuses on the theories underpinning the study. There is then a brief look at the general situation regarding standards and principles governing behaviour. It then analyses major arguments in relation to human rights and cultural relativity. Finally, the paper considers human rights within a cultural specificity and proposes an amalgamation of the two in dealing with issues regarding sexual behaviour.

The paper uses the term ‘African society’ as a collective noun to represent the different cultural groups that make up the African continent. In saying this, however, it is aware that certain differences may exist in the cultural emphasis of the diverse groups that make up the African society. Despite that, it is often possible to speak of an African society based on the commonality that exists among the various nations.

The Journey So Far

In recent years, there has been a gradual increase in the participation and representation of homosexuality in the media and popular culture in the West, perhaps most notably on television and in popular programmes (Richardson, 2000). Understandably, this depiction has made it possible for homosexuality to become part of mainstream culture (Gerbner et al., 2002). In addition to that, the emergence of a diversification of sexual identities and new social movements which have fundamentally challenged traditional frameworks for understanding sexuality have led to shifts in the understanding or toleration of same-sex issues (Richardson, 2000). Except for a few countries like South Africa, in many parts of Africa, such acceptance has not been forthcoming, although many Africans are ready to indulge homosexuals provided they remain in the private sphere.

Like other social behaviours, the abhorrence of homosexuality derives from varied and complex belief systems. Africans have been deeply uncomfortable with homosexuality (Divani, 2011). In deeply religious Ghana, for instance, homosexuality is seen as an imported foreign lifestyle choice and a moral aberration (Ryan, 2007). Such is the opprobrium that homosexuality attracts that it has led to extreme reactions in many African countries. In July 1995, the Zimbabwean president Robert Mugabe shut down a book exhibition organised by the Gays and Lesbians of Zimbabwe at the prestigious Harare International Book Fair, claiming that homosexuality degrades human dignity. In 2009, the Ugandan Parliament debated and then withdrew a proposed bill that would have imposed lengthy sentences for homosexuals after an international outcry. In Malawi, an openly gay couple were convicted in 2010 before international pressure prompted the government to set aside the 14-year prison term it imposed on them (Pichegru, 2010). Meanwhile, in January 2011, a Ugandan gay rights activist, David Kato, was bludgeoned to death, in an attack which many perceived was linked to his gay rights activism.

Many African countries still have colonial-era laws promulgated by the British. Sodomy laws are a common feature in 16 of the 18 African Commonwealth nations. Almost all anti-sodomy laws date back to the British colonial era penal codes. These have never been repealed and are still effective in almost all of the common law countries in Africa. The English Parliament passed the first civil injunction against sodomy in 1533. Sodomy was basically defined as any form of non- procreative sexual activity (buggery, bestiality, etc). Outside of African Commonwealth countries, the mainly Muslim countries of North Africa also have laws which tend to discourage homosexuality. Sodomy laws such as Tunisia’s penal code article 230 criminalise same-sex acts for both men and women with a punishment of up to three years imprisonment, whilst in Algeria, individuals could face imprisonment of between two months and three years and fines ranging from 500 to 10,000 Algerian dinars, if found to be in breach of the law (Russeau, 2012).

Lately, a more tolerant view of homosexuality has been adopted in many parts of the world. In Britain, homosexuality, which for years was a form of deviance, has now become a mainstream issue. It is easily portrayed in British soaps like Eastenders and Coronation Street with little protest by conservatives. The significance attached to such sociological shifts is that whereas previously the focus of gay representation was largely sub-cultural, as a result of cultural efforts by and for homosexuals themselves, it is now increasingly mainstream (Richardson, 2000). Instances of people being ‘outed’ no longer elicit any thrill, as was the case in the 1980s and 1990s when British politicians, especially, were derided for having gay tendencies. Consequently, the harsh social stigma attached to homosexuals in the past few decades has gradually given way to an atmosphere that sees homosexuality as something ‘cool’. In the realm of sexual socialisation, television is thought to have contributed to people’s knowledge about sexual relationships, their judgements about social norms regarding sexual activity, and their attitudes about sexual behaviour, among other influences (Farrar et al., 2003). This has occurred as a result of understandings that humans assume, and in appreciation of their responsibility to others. Homosexuality is now seen as ‘fashionable’ and many gays ‘come out’ with much more ease than before (Heffer, 1998). In years gone by, it was rather the media which trailed homosexuals to ‘out them’, though, as Heffer explains, one senses that militant elements in the homosexual fraternity may have been actually rather pleased, which is why some of its members have played such an active part in the ‘outings’. Writing on this phenomenon, Altman (1996) states that it has become fashionable to point to the emergence of the global gay, the apparent internationalisation of a certain form of social and cultural identity based on homosexuality.

On 5 December 2005, Britain passed a new law to allow same-sex couples to form a civil partnership. Many factors have accounted for the open-arms approach to homosexuality in the Western world, particularly in Britain, in recent years. These include the fact that Britain has become more open, more people are co-habiting and more same-sex issues are being dealt with. So, for now, the issue of same-sex relationships has become utterly irrelevant to be moralistic about, and is no longer seen as a deviance. What emerges is that there is a great deal of tolerance rather than ‘total acceptance’ of gay rights, despite the recognition accorded to homosexuals (Richardson, 2000). In terms of the social acceptability of homosexuality, this only began in the late 1990s and early 2000s in Britain.

What has become considerably more visible over the last few decades or so is the creation of new communities of discourse and dialogue championing stories and identities which harbour the rights and responsibilities of being sexual, pursuing pleasures, possessing bodies, claiming visibility and creating new kinds of relationships (Plummer, 1997). According to Geraghty (1991) the proliferation of sexual stories has been connected to a proliferation of sexual consumption, hence, stories are not just told, but consumed – read, heard, watched, and even bought.

Nonetheless, some British people, especially those with religious persuasions, have begun to question the gradual easing of opprobrium levelled at, and the apparent embracing of, same-sex issues in their society. In January 2012, three Muslim men were convicted of inciting hatred on the grounds of sexuality after they distributed leaflets calling for gay people to be killed (Addley, 2012). Another notable case involved a British Christian couple who denied two gay men the use of their guesthouse in 2008. The management of the family-run hotel was reluctant to accept the gay couple because of their belief in heterosexuality as the bedrock of any union. The gay couple, meanwhile, used the 2007 Equality Act regulations to bring the case successfully to court (Gordon and Higgins, 2011) In his ruling, the Judge, Andrew Rutherford said ‘the standards and principles governing our behaviour which were unquestionably accepted in one generation may not be so accepted in the next’(Salkeld and Doughty, 2011). Outside the court, the defendants felt the verdict could have serious implications for the religious liberty of Christians in Britain as they would be forced to act against their ‘deeply and genuinely held beliefs’.

For years, issues concerning how people become homosexuals have raged on, with some wondering whether it is more a lifestyle choice than genetic fact. As Richardson (2000: 106) argues, ‘[a] common justification to the right to sexual self-definition is the claim that one’s sexuality is predetermined and that there is a natural or essential basis for sexual identities, usually explained in terms of genetics or prenatal hormonal influences on the structure of the brain’. Jeffrey Weeks (1990) has, however, maintained that sexual identities are socially and historically specific inventions. In his 1986 book, Sexuality, Weeks provided a basis for this, stressing that sexuality is not biologically given but is produced by society through webs of social interaction and definition (Weeks, 1986). In giving credence to this, Greenberg (1988) stated that science contributes to the development of the modern homosexual identity by inviting people to think in deterministic ways about their feelings. As such, those with homosexual feelings are more likely to see these feelings as determined by some biological consideration. Greenberg’s position strikes a note with many researchers who have also argued that some disciplines have helped in providing the categories, explanations and social attitudes that have contributed to the creation of modern enduring homosexual identities.

Whither Sexuality?

The premise of social constructionism and postmodernism underpin this paper. Social constructionism and postmodernism have been the most prominent approaches to the sociological study of human sexuality in the past few decades (Sanderson, 2003). Social constructionism is a general term sometimes applied to theories that emphasise the socially created nature of social life (Marshall, 1994). Put in another way, social constructionism examines how individuals and groups contribute to producing perceived social reality and knowledge (Berger and Luckmann, 1966). The contention being that what we perceive as reality has been shaped through a system of social, cultural and interpersonal processes. This theory places emphasis on the individual’s active role in constructing reality, whilst being guided by his or her culture (Tiefer, 1987, 1995). A major focus of social constructionism is to uncover the ways in which individuals and groups participate in the construction of their perceived social reality. This involves examining the ways social phenomena are created, institutionalised and made into tradition by people.

Sexuality, being a complex and individual phenomenon influenced by social norms, culture, and personal experience, is said to be socially constructed (Fine, 1993; Laws and Schwartz, 1977). Through social constructionism, researchers can look for diverse meanings of sexuality within and between social groups (Thompson, 1992). Cultures construct the rules, beliefs, values, and acceptable behaviours, all elements that underlie the discourse and regulation of sexuality (Goettsch, 1989). Cultural scripts, according to Simon and Gagnon (1984) also regulate sexuality by restricting sexual activities to reproductive anatomy and processes, specifically intercourse, inhibiting a more diverse sexual experience or a broader diversity of activities.

Understandably, sex is the site of our most strongly policed social divisions. It is the social division most likely to generate moral outrage and state intervention for a particular society’s culture in common with other cultures (Best, 2005). As Best (2005) states, those who choose to engage in sexual relationships will find that society prescribes a rigid, but arbitrary, set of rules on where and how to have sex, what one is not supposed to do and with whom to have it. For Segal (1997), the domain of the sexual is unique – unique in relation to the contradictions it embraces and the disputes it generates, quite as much as the varying experiences it attempts to encompass. Seen at the heart of our individuality, public pronouncements about the sexual serve to titillate and excite at the very same time as they create scapegoats and instil fear and anxiety (Segal, 1997).

The African Situation

In Africa, issues about sexuality tend to have a certain pattern. This sort of sequential order finds expression in what a gender activist, Josina Machel, noted in a presentation on Gender Rights:

It’s about the fact that the moment I get into a bedroom with a man, my culture jumps into bed with us: Everything I do and think about is influenced by my culture: Who shuts off the light? Should I undo his zipper? As a woman, am I being too forward or should I act more modest? There is no one in this [conference] room that will not tell me that these questions and fears don’t jump into bed with them too (Machel, 2010).

Machel’s feelings provide a veritable picture about the ‘dos and don’ts’ in the African setting, where a deviation from the rigid rules of sexuality, often leads to some concerns, ostracism or both. The socialisation process in the African family reinforces the idea that women should be obedient, submissive and responsible, whilst men should marry and have children, provide leadership and be strong and powerful. A notable yet often overlooked part of this cultural phenomenon is the consideration offered to heterosexuality as the original blueprint, in which, as Richardson (2000: 26) stresses, ‘penis and vagina are assumed as a natural fit’.

Significantly, cultural values and beliefs do not only colour how people perceive their surroundings; they also form the core of their personalities (Macionis and Plummer, 1998). Thus, in Africa, heterosexuality has infused the social realm. It represents the idea of normal behaviour that is central to the concept of the social and the process of socialisations into the social realm (Richardson, 2000). Men and women have children who ritualise their parents and ancestors. Hence, the overall African philosophy is that life and the reproduction of life sit at the core of human society (Asante and Mazama, 2009). Following from this, many Africans argue that there is a certain disruption and destabilisation of heterosexuality if and when homosexuality gains roots. To a large extent, the approved principles are instilled in African people by their families, schools and religious organisations. They are made to think and act according to approved principles, whilst rejecting alternatives as false.

Traditional African culture dwells on the belief that African people belong to the same society, having ethics which regulate human behaviour within the family and also regulate general behaviour towards other members of society (Abraham, 1992). Though there is the recognition that individuals have their own interests that they pursue or desire to pursue, the efforts of individuals in the pursuit of their interests frequently threaten to conflict or actually conflict with varying degrees of societal obligations. Therefore, it becomes imperative to find a way to harmonise those interests with societal wishes. Any principle for pursuing such a harmony of interests inevitably involves the occasional pruning down of the interests of an individual in deference to the interests of others. It seems right to suggest, therefore, that the mutual humanity of Africans is energised by moral obligations that activate their conscience towards the bond they share inescapably with others.

There is little doubt, though, that social definitions of appropriate and inappropriate sexual behaviour vary widely throughout societal time and space (Broude and Greene, 1976). Although African countries are finding sexual mores increasingly woven into an international arrangement that emphasises varying degrees of interactions and dependencies, they are also clearly on another crusade to preserve their cultures. Oftentimes, issues about cultural preservation, nationalist ideals, development objectives and general implications of imported programmes remain of considerable concern to them. Hence, a sense of belongingness and protection are of great psychological and sociological significance in Africa (Nurnberger, 1999). It must be stated that every society has its values and these tend to influence the thoughts and perceptions of the people. Therefore, what the people hold as the accepted norm is very important in determining how the said community lives and behaves. In Nurnberger’s (1999) view, one’s cultural identity defines one’s collective identity.

The Issue of Homosexuality in Africa

The issue of homosexuality is quite complicated in Africa. There is the tendency for Africans to argue that homosexuality violates their religious and cultural beliefs. A key part of some of their objection is the idea that homosexuality is not part of African culture and that it has been perniciously imported (Divani, 2011). The privileging of heterosexual relations as the assumed bedrock of social relations, without which, it is posited, society would no longer function nor exist, reinforces the idea that heterosexuality is the original blueprint for interpersonal relations (Richardson, 2000). For many Africans, this position is unquestionable, so there is a discomfort with homosexuality. Homosexual acts are illegal, in varying capacities, in 40 out of 53 African countries, according to the International Gay and Lesbian Association (IGLA survey, April 2007).

African and Asian countries, particularly, believe that homosexuality, materialised in the form of Western gay tourists, is the harbinger of sexual and national destruction (Wait and Markwell, 2006). The belief is reinforced with the convictions of European male tourists, mostly homosexuals, who have been jailed for preying on vulnerable minors. A Ghanaian Member of Parliament, Balado Manu, is even of the opinion that sex tourism has been the force behind homosexual activities in the country (Pokua, 2011). The argument that homosexuality has a foreign origin has, however, been found to be flawed. This is because a number of researchers have provided evidence which points to the fact that pockets of homosexuality in the form of native conceptions and practices of male homosexuality have been in existence in African societies for years (Roscoe and Murray, 1998). In her book, The Spirit of Intimacy: Ancient African Teachings in the Ways of Relationships, Sobonfu Somé (2000), for instance, indicates that homosexuals (probably referring to the Dagara of southern Burkina Faso) have had some specific role to play in African communities. Homosexuality in various degrees has, thus, been seemingly a long companion of civilisation.

Needless to say, homosexuality continues to emerge as a hot-button issue. The tumult over homosexuality is the result of some converging trends (Baldauf, 2010). Firstly, African gays are becoming more politically active and vocal, lobbying hard for equality. Recent years have seen a noted increase in African gay groups addressing human rights issues (van Roozendaal, 2011). Like other civil society organisations these groups receive funding from abroad and are beginning to get stronger in their lobbying roles. Another thing that has brought gay issues into the limelight is the global debate over the ordination of gay priests. This has caused a conservative backlash in Africa, with African churches largely rejecting these reforms.

In explaining why many Africans remain hostile to same-sex issues, the International Gay and Lesbian Human Rights Commission (IGLHRC) is of the firm belief that this has arisen because of pressure from religious leaders (Fihlani, 2010). The UK-based Justice for Gay Africans has also blamed US Christian evangelical groups, whose activities in Africa, it claims, have led to hostility towards gay people. The evangelical lobby reportedly had a hand in Uganda’s attempt in 2009 to introduce anti-gay legislation. This private member’s bill was trounced following local and international outcry over its merits. Gay-rights group, Behind the Mask, on the other hand, has noted that there is a lack of understanding of gay issues in Africa because of misrepresentations in the press and fiery speeches by religious leaders. According to the organisation, when many hear the word ‘homosexual’ they immediately think of sodomy or paedophilia (Fihlani, 2010).

Whither Foreign Aid?

The British Prime Minister Cameron’s aid cut threat applies only to one type of bilateral aid known as general budget support. Taking the case of Ghana, for instance, it received about £90m ($144m) of bilateral aid from Britain during the 2010 financial year, of which about £36m was general budget support. Ghana, thus, risks losing a total of £375 million over the next five years if the country and other ‘anti-gay nations’ remain unmoved and allow Britain to go ahead with its decision to cut aid. But, overwhelmingly, Ghanaians believe it would be better to lose this than to be subservient to British interests. A Ghanaian Catholic Archbishop, the Most Rev. Thomas Kwaku Mensah, summed up this feeling when he said Ghanaians are prepared to lose this provision rather than ‘be subjected to an aggressive new hedonistic homosexual culture’ (The Mirror, 10 October 2011). Many Ghanaians have indicated that as a sovereign state, the Ghanaian government is guided by the provisions of its constitution, which has adequate provisions on freedoms and rights of the people, which in effect enshrines the rights of homosexuals as well.

The US President Barack Obama and the Secretary of State Hillary Clinton have also joined British Prime Minister Cameron in raising the possibility of foreign aid allocations being informed by recipients’ treatment of gay and lesbian citizens. They have called on African countries to foster a conducive climate for homosexuality. Although the US has not outlined sanctions for countries that fail to reform anti-same-sex laws, an official memorandum directs US government agencies to consider gay rights when making aid and asylum decisions.

Why Western leaders have suddenly turned the heat on Africa remains puzzling, but according to Williams (2011), Obama’s evolving views on gay marriage have implications for his 2012 re-election bid. Taken as a whole, the move, Williams says, fits well into Obama’s 2012 sales pitch. Gay advocates have significant political clout in the Obama administration, partly because Obama got roughly 75 percent of their votes in 2008, and also because many wealthy gays donate heavily to his campaign (Munro, 2011). With a stalled economy, a $1 trillion annual deficit, real unemployment above 10 percent and the 2012 election some months away, Obama is under pressure to pull in every vote and dollar he can find. The same can be said of Mrs Clinton’s emphasis on gay rights, which is also directed at a liberal domestic constituency ahead of elections in 2012. Like the members of many other groups, many gays and lesbians tend to support politicians, like Obama, who boost their social recognition and status. Cameron’s Conservatives have always had a topsy-turvy relationship with homosexuality. In order to shore up support and tackle its tag of being anti-gay, Cameron has made rapid moves to give a new image to the Conservatives. These considerations are seen at the heart of the current push to give recognition to same-sex issues, especially in respect to countries they consider to have ‘traditional cultures’.

Some African commentators have, meanwhile, accused the British, especially, of double standards, in that, whilst Britain and other Western countries espouse rights for homosexuals, they have criminalised polygamy, a widely accepted practice on the continent of Africa. Recently, indeed, a Canadian judge defended monogamy as a key principle of Western civilisation (Addison, 2011). Chief Justice Bauman gave a spirited defence of the virtues of monogamy as being a fundamental principle of Western civilisation. In the eyes of many Africans, Western governments are guilty of infringing on the rights and liberties of people whose passion for polygamy has been denied, and are thus unable to realise the simple joys of humanity.

In forcing the legitimisation of homosexuality on Africans, some Western governments cannot deny that they still have problems ensuring any consensus in their own countries. Gay activists in Africa have even noted that Obama’s government has little moral authority to promote gay rights in Africa since in the United States, gay marriages are not recognised in some states (Chotia, 2011). Only six out of the 50 states of the Union issue same-sex marriage licences, a fact which Mrs Clinton acknowledged when she berated Africans for not doing enough for homosexual rights. In fact, until very recently, the United States used to have a policy of ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ for gay men and women in the military, and as the Nigerian newspaper This Day states, ‘yet all this time no one heard of any threat from Canada or Britain issuing warnings to the United States’ (This Day, 19 December 2011).

The hectoring tones of Cameron, Clinton and Obama have instead entrenched much of the existing hostility for same-sex issues in Africa. This stems from the fact that Africans believe there is a Western agenda geared towards imbuing their people with the culturally specific morality of the West. The existence of enforced power inequalities between the West and Africa, and the continued privileging of Western forms of thought, identity and morality has not gone down very well. Indeed, Altman (1996) writes that the global proliferation of sexual and social identities is both the result of, and draws explicitly upon, Western understandings of sexual identities and Western models of behaviour and social organisation. It is this argument, over the perceived Westernising role of international human rights law, especially with regard to the protection and recognition of homosexual rights, which has given rise to the controversy. Africa is not alone in this and, as Obendorf acknowledges, strident opposition to the existence and promotion of universal homosexual rights has emerged from a number of states, cultures and societies worldwide.

So great has been the furore as a result of the ‘push’ by Western leaders that some members of the gay community in Africa, whilst seeing the Western leaders’ stance as a positive gesture, have, however, noted that such remarks risk turning African homosexuals into targets. In a statement signed by over 50 organisations and other individuals identifying themselves with the African LGBTI community, it was noted that ‘the imposition of donor sanctions may be one way of seeking to improve the human rights situation in a country but does not, in and of itself, result in the improved protection of the rights of LGBTI people’ (AMSHeR Net News, 27 October, 2011). The activists went on to say:

while the intention may well be to protect the rights of LGBTI people on the continent, the decision to cut aid disregards the role of the LGBTI and broader social justice movement on the continent and creates the real risk of a serious backlash against LGBTI people.

Some even recall that in 2010, huge anti-gay rallies began in neighbouring Kenya following US President Barack Obama’s criticism of the then Ugandan anti-gay proposals (Fihlani, 2010).

There have been ambivalent responses by many non-Western homosexuals to the presuppositions and constructions which characterise the current means by which homosexual rights could be protected in international law (Obendorf, 1999). In Africa, many homosexuals often see the movement in Western societies as largely based on confrontational politics, such as mass protests and parades. As such, there have been disagreements over the best way of achieving their goals in family-centred, community-oriented African societies which stress social harmony and do not tolerate such behaviour.

Arguments have lurched around Africa’s ‘societal norms’ which many Africans believe are different from those in the Western world. The assault on Africa has been justified in terms of the West constantly feeling the need to play parent and enforcer. The West sees Africa’s position on same-sex issues, which contrasts with those of Europe, as often at odds with logic and humanity. Africa, thus, finds itself only valid through the constructions of Westerners, and this is where we also locate this issue of homosexuality. The existence of enforced power inequalities between the West and non-West, and the continued privileging of Western forms of thought, identity and morality is at the heart of this relationship.

In a globalised world where dependency is still very much a part of countries’ relationships, rich nations keen to raise their game have often used the human rights issues as a bait to guarantee human rights across the globe. While gay rights remain contentious, even in the most liberal forums, their popular dissemination and subsequent prevalence in today’s democratic discourse is not universal (Anderson, 2007).

So if Britain is today saying that homosexuality is a human rights issue and that African Commonwealth countries must legitimise that orientation, or lose out on aid, the expectation is that due diligence would have been given to the issue in view of its sensitive nature among the affected countries.

Establishing the Relationship Between Culture and Human Rights

Current international human rights covenants underscore the desire of the world community to ensure that basic rights are adhered to. The notion of rights finds expression in what people do and often canvass for. To a large extent, human rights are considered and officially accepted as universal – regardless of their genesis or cultural manifestation (Bösl and Diescho, 2009). Some researchers have, however, insisted that since the philosophical foundations of the concept of human rights are to be found in Western Europe, it is predicated on Western values and norms.

Their universality and appropriateness have been questioned in the light of the differences in local cultural outlooks. Interestingly, an understanding of the notion of human rights still varies from one community to the other, as moral and cultural values differ from one culture to another. Parekh (1999) provides an explanation for this by stressing that different societies throw up different systems of moral beliefs depending on such things as their history, traditions, and geographical circumstances. With this in mind, it is pertinent to realise that there would be differences in the way human rights issues are seen and interpreted. For example, just before the 1993 Vienna Conference on Human Rights, the leaders of several Asian nations claimed that Asian values were distinct from the Western system of human rights and that the Western system was alien to them (Merry, 2003). On this basis, the Bangkok declaration challenged the universal application of human rights.

Conceptions of culture as static tradition are fundamental to contemporary transnational human rights discourse (Merry, 2003). As Merry argues, blaming culture for the disadvantages faced by minorities, and other vulnerable groups, like homosexuals, is an appealing ideology for proponents of contemporary neo-liberal globalisation. But culture has always been recognised in its own right. It is overwhelmingly applauded as positive in the vast majority of human rights instruments (HREA, 2003). Even the Charter of Fundamental Rights of the European Union (2000) (Article 22) stipulates that member states of the European Union shall respect cultural, religious and linguistic diversity. The protection of culture in human rights law encompasses two concepts: firstly, the right of peoples to practice and continue shared traditions and activities; and secondly, the protection of culture in international law, covering the scientific, literary and artistic pursuits of society (HREA, 2003).

The critique of culture builds on imperial understandings of the concept as belonging to the domain of the primitive or backward, in contrast to the civilisation of the coloniser (Merry, 2003). While there is recognition of the importance of cultural diversity and of responding to differences among cultures (see HREA, 2003), the transnational modernity created in these human rights institutions is generally committed to promoting a universal system of norms and values (Merry, 2003), hence the nexus of contestation that has come into being (Obendorf, 1999).

But is the idea of the universality of human rights consistent with respect for cultural difference? Are there collective human rights? The issue lies more in the domain of the universalism/relativism debate which pits law against culture, with law representing the universalisation of liberal individual rights, and culture suggesting the protection of local essentialised group norms and traditions. Admittedly, human rights progress can be endangered by radical relativist argument which often preys on cultural difference as something that one has to contend with. From this perspective, this often calls into question whether there is the need for societies to have their own concepts of democracy and human rights.

At best, greater understanding of the ways in which traditional cultures protect the well-being of their people would illuminate the common foundation of human dignity on which human rights promotion and protection stand. This insight would enable human rights advocacy to assert the cultural relevance, as well as the legal obligation, of universal human rights in diverse cultural contexts. At the end of it all, recognition and appreciation of particular cultural contexts would serve to facilitate, rather than reduce, human rights respect and observance (Ayton-Shenker, 1995). As indicated by Asian countries in the Bangkok Declaration 1993, cultural rights ‘must be considered in the context of a dynamic and evolving process of international norm-setting, bearing in mind the significance of national and regional particularities and various historical, cultural and religious backgrounds’ (Report of the Regional Meeting for Asia of the World Conference On Human Rights, 1993). The declaration also noted that ‘the promotion of human rights should be encouraged by cooperation and consensus, and not through confrontation and the imposition of incompatible values’.

What this means is that those countries seeking to ensure the legitimisation of homosexuality on the basis that it is a human rights issue, should for once reflect on the values and aspirations of the communities they are entrenching this on. Again, using aid as a bait reinforces the view that aid has now become an instrument of punishment, a contention now held by many Africans. Those who choose not to do the biddings of the rich nations are now being told they are in for a rough ride. The Bangkok Declaration criticised this stance, stressing that ‘the use of human rights as conditionality for extending development assistance and as an instrument of political pressure’ is inappropriate (Report of the Regional Meeting for Asia of the World Conference on Human Rights, 1993). Seemingly, Britain and other Western countries are failing to grasp the long-standing dilemma that confronts universal human rights and culture.

But can the African culture be re-claimed and re-defined to make homosexuality acceptable, so that same sex couples can have their rights upheld, as is being advocated for?

There are issues, concerns and questions underlying the debate over universal human rights and cultural relativism. Taken to its extreme, relativism would pose a dangerous threat to the effectiveness of international law and the international system of human rights that has been painstakingly constructed over the decades. If cultural tradition alone governs state compliance with international standards, then widespread disregard, abuse and violation of human rights would be given legitimacy (Ayton-Shenker, 1995). Despite that, there are basic things that are not culture specific, namely, massive violation of human rights such as mass-murder, genocide or ‘ethnic cleansing’. Within this category can also be placed female genital mutilation, an age-old traditional practice which violates the human rights of girls and women. Such a practice cannot be condoned in view of its health implications, even if there is a cultural basis for this. At best, the wisdom contained in traditional cultures can and should be retained, but the orientation to the past and the dynastic-magical approach to reality which contributes nothing to future development, also found in such cultures, can and must be overcome (Nurnberger, 1999).

Cultural rights in Africa are predicated on the distinctiveness and exclusivity of the community’s beliefs and traditions. It is the source for a great deal of self-definition, expression, and sense of group belonging. This conception of culture finds expression in what Merry (2003) sees as not only consisting of beliefs and values but also practices, habits, and commonsensical ways of doing things. Commentators ranging from media pundits, priests and politicians in Africa point to the erosion of community norms and a context of rising moral crisis in recent years. The blame, meanwhile, is often placed on the adulteration of the African culture. But the contention here is that if claims for the right to be different are to be admitted, there is also a tendency that it could lead to different consequences.

Like the crucial questions confronting universalism and cultural relativity, the world has no unanimity about homosexuality. This situation is rarely accepted by Western countries. Indeed, homosexuality has split the Anglican Church worldwide. For many years, it caused a big split in Britain’s Conservative Party. In the US, there is still resistance to the concept. Today, the Commonwealth is what it is because of its cultural diversity. The ploy to use aid to arm twist African countries into legitimising a concept which the majority of the people do not subscribe to is akin to what African leaders and their people have divined as sheer imperialism. This strengthens Obadina’s (1998) position that given the historical relationship between Africa and the West, it is ironic that the latter is today preaching the virtues of freedom to Africans. What rather makes the whole arrangement difficult to take, incidentally, stems from what Obendorf (1999) sees as the existence of enforced power inequalities between the West and Africa, and the continued privileging of Western forms of thought, identity and morality. This fits into hegemonic discourses.

Given its economic weakness, Africa relies heavily on the family as a safety net. Anything which, in its view, seeks to undermine the family setting risks being heavily resisted. Invariably, neoliberals who see themselves and their project as rooted in modernity and law tend to envision culture as the obstacle. While there is recognition of the importance of cultural diversity and of responding to differences among cultures, the transnational modernity created in these human rights institutions is generally committed to promoting a universal system of norms and values, without any consideration for the differences in culture (Merry, 2003). This formulation, however, marks a dialectic discourse between global formations, largely derived from the West and the locally specific conditions which they encounter (Obendorf, 1999).

The misreading of culture hinders the global spread and local appropriation of human rights concepts (Merry, 2003). Recognising the extent to which the human rights project is itself a cultural one, and that it can also build upon culture rather than just resisting it, would foster its expansion and use by local activists (Merry, 2003). In effect, there is the need for the reconceptualisation of the human rights concept in such a way that would distance the human rights discourse from being seen from the perspective of its adherents as a fight or struggle between civilisation and culture.

Conclusion

This paper has assumed that sexuality is socially constructed, shaped by social, political and economic influences, and modified throughout life. Although heterosexuality is the preferred option in Africa in view of the continent’s beliefs, sexual-orientation minorities have been part of African societies for years. However, in recent years, the ‘trend-setting advocacy’ in raising the social status of gays has created deep divisions, misunderstanding and hostility to those of same-sex orientation. The culture of transnational modernity, one that specifies procedures for collaborative decision-making, conceptions of global social justice, and definitions of gender roles seems keen to assert itself and truncate the values and norms of those it deems to be traditional and static. But this stance runs the risk of failing if it fails to take into account the cultural specificity found in some regions. Taken to its extreme, this relativism would pose a dangerous threat to the effectiveness of international law and the international system of human rights that has been painstakingly constructed over the decades (Ayton-Shenker, 1995).