Abstract

In Tanzania, tough-guy politics is putting democratic gains at risk.
In October this year, Paul Makonda, the Dar es Salaam regional commissioner, instructed Idris Sultan to report to the central police station after the popular comedian posted a “face swap” with the president on social media.
Sultan was held for impersonation under the 2015 Cybercrimes Act, a law which also impinges upon freedom of expression.
Tanzania, a largely patriarchal society yearning for development, chose the macho Magufuli as president in its last election, and his ego is getting in the way of the country’s freedoms. Tired of rampant corruption, believed to have been the result of the laissez-faire style of his predecessor, Tanzanians wanted a decisive leader who would fight the ills plaguing the country. Nicknamed the Bulldozer, Magufuli set out to clean up the country.
While some of the changes he has brought have been welcomed, and long overdue, democracy has become a casualty in the process.
His supporters see him as an infallible leader who cannot err, and his word has sometimes been taken as law. Magufuli’s government has been keen to receive praise for doing its job, but on the flipside it is reluctant to receive any criticism and is waging a war on dissent.
As we went to press, journalist Erick Kabendera – who was arrested on trumped-up charges in August – was still awaiting trial. His court case has been postponed eight times already.
But Kabendera’s whereabouts are, at least, known. Others, such as Azory Gwan-da – who has been missing since November 2017 – have disappeared completely.
Recent reports by Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch show that civic society, political parties and the press face varying forms of suppression within the country. The government has created a climate of fear among its citizens, who now believe that the only way to be safe is to be silent.
“Before pursuing a story, you ask yourself if 600 words are worth the repercussions,” said Khalifa Said, a political writer at The Citizen newspaper, in an interview with Index. Said’s comment reflects the current reality for journalists in Tanzania.
“No one has to beat down your door to tell you not to publish certain things,” he said. “When you see repressive laws against media and journalism pass, when you see your colleagues arrested and newspapers suspended, you know you have to tread very lightly. You censor yourself.”
Said has first-hand experience of this. In February 2019, The Citizen was suspended for seven days simply for running a story about the declining value of the Tanzanian shilling against the US dollar.
CREDIT: Alex Williamson/iKon
Laws have also enshrined the assault on free speech.
Legislation such as the Media Services Act of 2016, which was deemed by the East African Court of Justice to be against freedom of the press, has made journalists reluctant to speak out.
Said was willing to talk to me. But when I approach other journalists to ask about their experiences in Tanzania, most of them are afraid to speak on the record.
One confided that this was “because there is no freedom of expression”.
And this self-censorship isn’t exclusive to journalists, either.
“You can’t talk about everything,” said Gadi Ramadhani, a visual artist, curator and founder of KokoTEN studios. By everything, he means not least Magufuli and his government – unless, of course, you are going to talk positively about them.
Visual artists, filmmakers and musicians face censorship from the National Arts Council, which has a mandate to ban content it deems inappropriate. What’s inappropriate could be anyone’s guess. It is not always clear what content could get someone in trouble. And because there isn’t a directive that says what can and cannot be said, no one really knows what can land them in trouble, so they err on the side of caution.
The government has banned political songs in the past, but visual artists enjoy relatively more freedom due to the more ambiguous nature of the art form. In October, Ramadhani exhibited Everlast – a body of work that depicts the dire situation of Tanzanian democracy – at the Alliance Française in Dar es Salaam.
“I chose the name carefully, to let the audience arrive at their own meaning. Visual art is subject to interpretation; therefore, I cannot be held responsible for someone else’s interpretation of my work,” he told Index.
The level of censorship may also depend on the level of influence the artists and their art have on the masses.
Dotto Rangimoto, a Tanzanian poet and the 2017 winner of the Mabati Cornell Prize for African Literature, believes poetry and literary arts – which aren’t very popular in the country – retain some freedom of expression.
The National Arts Council does not have a mandate to censor literature, but Rangimoto, who has written and shared online poems such as Mfalme Nakutukana (I Curse the King) and Dereva Kipofu (The Blind Driver), still gets a few private warnings from people.
“They would call you and say, ‘You are headed down the wrong path my friend’.”
These warnings from strangers and loved ones to journalists and artists are justified. But perhaps such an overt show of male authoritarian politics could be used for political advantage. Some gender activists have been calling out the president’s mostly male appointments to positions of authority with the hashtag #TeuziDume (male appointments). Despite having a female vice-president, the number of women in leadership is disproportionately lower than men.
Historically, Tanzanian women have been left out of political and non-political decision-making positions – a situation which led to the passage of affirmative action laws in 1985 to reduce the gender gap. #TeuziDume serves as a reminder that the country is still leaving women out.
Rangimoto has a suggestion to remedy this macho trend: “We need more women in politics.”
But as Tanzania heads towards its 2020 general elections, it won’t be surprising if this trend continues. Magufuli remains the most likely winner, and if the political space remains hostile, and free speech is totally muzzled, Tanzania’s peace and democracy will be in peril.
