Journal of Refugee StvaTes Vol. 12, No. 4 1999
Revisiting the Debate on People, Place,
Identity and Displacement
GAIM KIBREAB
Faculty of Humanities and Social Science, Development Studies, South Bank University,
London
The human need to belong is more than one for protection or for the means of
individual development. ..it is normally a strong human need, the satisfaction of
which is conducive to individual and social well-being and the denial of which is
conducive to suffering... A 'people' is formed by physical propinquity, a native soil
and a shared history that has formed common beliefs and values (i.e. its culture or
civilization) and conferred on it an identity. The link between a people and a land is
a profound one
Coles (1985), 185-186.
To be rooted is perhaps the most important and least recognized need of the human
soul.
Weil (1987), 41.
. . . spatial structure « . . . seen not merely as an arena in which social life unfolds,
but rather as a medium through which social relations are produced and
reproduced.
Gregory and Urry (1985), 3.
Territoriality provides a means of reifying power.
Sack (1986), 32.
Do you mean is this like my village? No 1 am a stranger here.
Greek-Cypriot refugee in Zetter (1994), 311.
We are just sojourners here, whereas our place of abode is at home; attachment to
home is always there.
Lagos-based woman, June 18, 1992 in Trager (1995), 269.
/ am returning home, even though I won't be able to see what is there.
A blind Eritrean refugee joining a convoy to return home from Shegerab (Eastern
Sudan), November 14, 1994 in Kibreab (1996a).
The relation between individual and group does not have to be physically grounded,
contrary to Coles' observation about man as an ethereal spirit. It is the relations
O Oxford Univeriity Press 1999
People, Place, Identity and Displacement 385
with other people that ground man in his existence, and not the physical grounding of
the individual and group with a given space.
Warner (1994), 165.
There is a tendency in the post-modernist literature to assume that the
globalization process characterized by mobility of people, goods, capital, and
ideas, and the subsequent erosion of spatially bounded social worlds (Stepputat
1994: 176) has led to deterritorialization of identity and, as a result, people,
regardless of their territorial origin, have become or are in the process of
becoming citizens of a deterritorialized global world. This paper argues that the
globalization process has not been accompanied by opening of borders to those
who are forced to flee in search of safety. Though globalization has effectively
reduced the capability of smaller states to shape their national macro-economic
policies, their ability or determination to deny access to asylum seekers has not
diminished. In fact global interconnectedness notwithstanding, the propensity of
many societies, including formerly 'cohesive' ones, to define themselves on the
basis of their ethnic, national or spatial origin, or religion, as well as culturally
and ethnically distinct territorial locations, by excluding those whom they
consider as 'others', has never been greater. Thus, place still remains a major
repository of rights and membership. The assumption that identities are
deterritorialized and state territories are readily there for the taking, regardless
of place or national origin, has no objective existence outside the minds of its
proponents. In a world where rights such as equal treatment, access to sources of
livelihoods, social services, rights of freedom of movement andresidence,etc. are
apportioned on the basis of territorially anchored identities, the identity people
gain from their association with a particular place is an indispensable instrument
to a socially and economically fulfilling life. The corollary is that despite the
process of globalization, repatriation still represents one of the most important
solutions to the problem of involuntary displacement.
In the last two decades, there has been increasing interest in the debate
concerning the relationship between people, place and identity. The thrust of
the debate is, inter alia, that though people have always been mobile, in the era
of globalization, a process marked by integration of international markets for
goods, services, technology, finance and to some extent labour, mobility has
become the mode of human existence and consequently national borders have
lost their significance. As a result, identity has more or less become
deterritorialized. It is argued that this period is characterized by a 'generalized
condition of homelessness' (Said 1979: 18) where 'we are all refugees' (Warner
1992) or even 'tourists' (Ezrahi in Warner 1994: 168). The corollary of these
assertions is not only that the relationship between place and identity is denied,
but people, regardless of their territorial origin, have become or are in the
process of becoming citizens of a deterritorialized global world where concepts
such as homeland, locality, territorially anchored national or collective
identities have either become a thing of the past or lost much of their
significance.
386 Gaim Kibreab
The critical question that arises is where this conceptualization leaves the
millions of refugees who flee their homelands or their places of habitual
residence, not in pursuit of adventure or tourism, but against their will in
search of safety and security in other countries. There are two discernible
implications of this debate for the refugee problem—one with regard to the
concept of displacement itself and the other with regard to solutions to such a
displacement. With regard to displacement, the proponents of the new
approach argue that because of the globalization process, mobility and
displacement have become the dominant forms of human existence resulting in
generalized 'homelessness' or 'refugeeness'; consequently, refugeehood is in
some conditions a physical manifestation of the general condition which
characterizes the state we are in (Ezrahi 1992; Connolly 1991; Xenos in Warner
1994; Said 1979; Warner 1992, 1994). Warner succinctly summarizes these
views stating, 'The situation of the refugees away from "home" is the
incarnation of the homelessness that is part of all our experience.' (1994: 168).
He further asserts, 'The situation of the refugee is the physical incarnation of
the rift in being; it is the physical incarnation of the denial of the symmetries,
alignments and equations' (1994: 168). The refugee problem is reduced to that
of mobility.
The implication of such a conception of displacement for solutions to
population displacements or refugees is also obvious. Since we are all mobile
and, therefore, homeless, there is no 'home' in a physical, material or national
sense, that refugees can return to. There was never a 'home' in the first place.
The conceptualization that roots people in a place, space or country is a
product of a sedentarist thinking, which is said to be not anchored in the
objective reality of our time (Malkki 1992, 1995; Allen and Turton 1996;
Turton 1996; Warner 1992, 1994). The corollary of this conceptualization is
that since there is no need for people to belong to a specific place, the idea of
return 'home' or repatriation as constituting a solution to the problem of
displacement is a misconception. In order to emphasize the fact that
deterritorialization of identity, homelessness, as well as statelessness have
become the major features of our time, Agamben states, 'Exactly because he
destroys the old trinity of state-nation-territory, the refugee, an apparently
marginal figure, deserves to be considered as the central figure of our political
history' (in Warner 1994: 168). Warner amplifies this point stating,
It is in this sense that the refugee shows us the rifts in ourselves that we wish to
deny. The refugee's return to home, and our desire to prioritize that return, are all
our desires to return to a world of alignments and symmetries. Refugees and nonrefugees wish to be in a world of equations and alignments, a world that... never
was.
In view of the deplorable state which refugees experience in the regions where
they are produced (Africa, Asia and Central America), such a conceptualization of displacement and return to a homeland from which they were forcibly
uprooted (to use the unpopular term), may sound illusory, bordering the realm
People, Place, Identity and Displacement
387
of the unreal or sophistry. The exponents of deterritorialization of identity may
argue that one of the reasons whyrefugeesand immigrants are in a deplorable
state is because of the assumption that there are 'natural' places from which
people derive their identity. Outside that physical context, they are treated as
strangers or as non-members of the host society with conditions that attend
'otherness.' On the other hand, the assumption that 'people belong to certain
geographic places and their rights to stay in those places is a fundamental
human right' can be abused. Significantly, for example, as the end of the cold
war reduced the strategic significance of refugees, so Western governments
have been using the concept of 'right to remain' to prevent people from leaving
their countries or their places of habitual residence as refugees in search of
international protection elsewhere. However, the 'right to remain' or belonging
to a territory with strong associations through long-term occupation, does not
make sense unless it means the right to stay in that territory in safety and that
right is exercised by the right holders themselves free of external pressure.
Involuntary displacement is a denial of that fundamental right, but in the
wrong hands, the argument of the 'right to remain' or to 'belong to a natural
place' can be used to curtail the right of freedom of movement and residence,
as well as the possibility of escaping persecution, indignity and insecurity.
This paper argues that the desirability of treating all people, regardless of
their place of origin, as 'global citizens' notwithstanding, territory still remains
the major repository of rights and membership (Cooke in Watts 1992). This is
the more so in societies where land still constitutes the major source of
livelihood and social mooring. For example, in most third world countries, e.g.
in Africa, rights of access to, and use of, sources of livelihood are still
apportioned on the basis of territorially anchored identity. In such a situation,
not only is deterritorialization of identity impossible, but to be outside that
physical context often entails loss of rights to belong to an ethnic or national
group which is physically grounded. In such societies, the original occupiers
have the right to exclude or deny entry to outsiders, or if they allow them to
enter, they can impose conditions of entry and residence, as well as resource
use. This is clearly areflectionof the territorialization of space. At a time when
spaces are more territorialized than ever before, to speak of deterritorialization
of identity does not make sense. There can be no deterritorialized identity in a
territorialized space. Territoriality is here defined as 'the attempt by an
individual or group [and states] to affect, influence, or control people, and
relationships, by delimiting and asserting control over a geographic area' (Sack
1986: 19). 'Fortress Europe' is the culmination of the territorialization process
which has been a major pre-occupation of most sovereign states in recent years,
in which harmonization of refugee policies and co-ordination between member
states have dramatically reduced the possibility of rejected asylum seekers in
one member country trying elsewhere within the Union.
Despite global interconnectedness, the aspiration of people who consider
themselves different from 'others' to inhabit culturally and ethnically distinct
territorialized places has never been greater. Most of the violent and complex
388
Gaim Kibreab
conflicts since the 1980s are intra-state, fought amongst previously 'cohesive'
groups who now define themselves on the basis of ethnicity, tribe, clan,
religion, language or other forms of cultural legacy. As a result, the late 1980s
and early 1990s have witnessed an amoebic multiplication of states. Not only is
this a new phenomenon, but it is occurring at a time when collective identity is
supposed to be deterritorialized, and consequently the desire to return home or
to establish a state occupying a distinct geographic space, rendered obsolete.
The debate on place, identity and displacement also overlooks the restrictive
immigration and refugee policies currently pursued by states to make their
territories inaccessible to asylum seekers. It is not only by closing their borders
that states shield their territories and their nationals against refugees or
'others', but also by adopting reception and settlement strategies which prevent
those who have already entered from being incorporated into host societies.
These reception strategies include herding of refugees in spatially segregated
sites (territorialized spaces) with minimum or no opportunities for social and
economic interaction with nationals, and pursuance of policies and practices
which discriminate against self-settled refugees and prevent incorporation of
refugees or 'others' into host societies. This approach is rampant in most Third
World countries of asylum. For the few who succeed in acquiring refugee status
in the North, incorporation into host societies resulting ultimately in
naturalization is a possible option. But they too have become inaccessible to
the large majority of refugees either because of their restrictive admission
policies or because of their remote location. As Castillo and Hathaway
perceptively argue, 'Now that the political advantages of refugee recognition
have gone the way of the Cold War, and as developed states become
increasingly sceptical of the value of other than carefully circumscribed
immigration, the logic of the anomalous attachment to routine permanent
integration has greatly diminished' (1997: 3).
Conventional Solutions to the Refugee Problem
Hitherto no attempts have been made to question the relevance of this debate
to the reality of refugees, especially those who seek asylum in the refugee
producing regions. As the discussion which follows will show, with regard to
involuntary population displacements and solutions, the post-modernist
debate concerning the relationship between place and people is greatly
influenced by sedentarist thinking which assumes the existence of a natural
connection between place and people (Malkki 1990, 1992, 1995; Warner 1994;
Allen and Turton 1996; Turton 1996). It is further propounded that it is
because of this sedentarist thinking that solutions to the refugee problem are
conceptualized in terms of voluntary repatriation in an attempt to re-root the
displaced in the places of their origin (Malkki 1992, 1995; Warner 1994, 164).
The corollary of this argument is that, if it were not for the sedentarist thinking
which taints our conceptualization of the issue of place and people, voluntary
repatriation would not have been prioritized (Warner 1994) or would not even
People. Place, Identity and Displacement
389
be considered a solution to the refugee problem because people have no need
to belong to territorially anchored communities or societies (Warner 1994:
165).
Existing international instruments relating to the status of refugees do not
prioritize voluntary repatriation. The solutions to the refugee problem
stipulated by such instruments are twofold, namely, voluntary repatriation
and 'assimilation within new national communities' (Article 8[c], Statute of
UNHCR 1950). Neither of these two solutions has primacy over the other.
Solutions to the refugee problem were thus conceptualized in terms of
acquisition or re-acquisition of nationality. With the acquisition of
nationality, refugee status was considered to come to an end. Everything
else is considered palliative and transient. The possibility of solving a refugee
problem in the context of exile was largely dependent on whether (i) host
governments' policies include the opportunity for naturalization and an
effective procedure for the latter; (ii) host populations accept or 'imagine'
(Anderson 1983) refugees as their own members; (hi) refugees are willing to
be naturalized or to 'imagine' themselves as being part of host societies; and
(iv) the structural factors are favourable enough to enable refugees to work
towards self-sufficiency. This is important because in spite of a favourable
host government policy, receptive host and responsive refugee populations,
incorporation may still be blocked due to lack of 'linkages of incorporation'
(Chavez 1991).
The refugee problem cannot, therefore, be solved in a context of exile: (a) if
host governments do not subscribe to the norm of naturalization or even
integration of refugees; (b) if the larger society is unwilling to accept refugee
'others' as equal members; (c) if refugees are unwilling to be incorporated into
host societies; or (d) if there are no opportunities that enable refugees to
support themselves independently. In countries where such institutional,
structural and attitudinal barriers constrain incorporation of refugees into host
societies, the only solution to therefugeeproblem lies in voluntary repatriation
where refugees would reacquire the nationality of the country of their origin
and where they would be treated as nationals or citizens. In the context of most
third world countries, voluntary repatriation is prioritized not because it is
considered the best solution under all circumstances, but because host
governments do not accept refugees on a permanent basis. Because of
diminishing resources, income-generating opportunities, and problems of
unemployment, host populations are becoming increasingly hostile to refugees.
As a result, most refugee communities see no future for themselves or their
offspring in their countries of asylum. They do not 'imagine' themselves as part
of the host population. They make every effort not only to maintain and
develop their national collective identities and transmit them to their offspring,
but also to eliminate the factors that prompted their displacement so that they
can return to their country in safety and dignity. Instead of working to develop
roots in the new place, their aim becomes return to the country of origin from
where they were forcibly uprooted.
390
Gaim Kibreab
It was in response to these inauspicious conditions characterized by lessening
commitment to humanitarianism reflected in donor fatigue, as well as in
restrictive refugee policies pursued by first and second countries of asylum, that
the Executive Committee of the High Commissioner in its 31st session declared
that voluntary repatriation whenever feasible is the most desirable solution
(UNHCR 1980). Contrary to the assertions of the 'anti-sedentarist scholars'
(e.g. Warner 1994; Malkki 1992, 1995; Allen and Turton 1996; Turton 1996),
this was not due to built-in sedentarist bias in the outlook of policy makers or
researchers. In an ideal world, where there is freedom of choice where refugees
could choose between being incorporated into host societies or being 're'integrated into their countries of origin after repatriation, it would make no
sense to talk of prioritization. Unfortunately, we are very far away from such
an ideal world. It is the existing barriers in refugee hosting countries, which
make voluntary repatriation the only available feasible solution: not, as
Warner suggests, because of 'our desire to return to a world of alignments and
symmetries' (1994: 168). The alternative is to languish in camps and to live
indefinitely off handouts, or to suffer from harassment, round-ups, arbitrary
detention, extortion or even deportation.
In spite of the fact that global interconnectedness has in some instances
provided opportunities for forging transnational forms of identities (Gupta
1992), little or nothing has changed to make refugees feel at home outside the
places or countries of their origin. In fact the globalization process has been
accompanied by restrictive immigration and refugee policies. This may not
only be true in the case of refugees. As Watts perceptively remarks, 'Hyperconnectedness, driven by increasingly footloose capital operating on a global
scale, does not... signal the erasure of local difference or of local identity, but
rather revalidates and reconstitutes place' (1992: 122), Thus, from the point of
view of those who are 'uprooted' from their places of origin and communities
by violence or violation of basic rights, it is farfetched to talk about
deterritorialized global identity and citizenship.
Exile, Identity and Settlement Form
One of the most prominent exponents of the 'anti-sedentarist thinking' in
refugee studies is Liisa Malkki. Her works on Barundi refugees in Mishamo
settlement and Kigoma town in Tanzania represent the boldest attempt to
contest the links between people and place represented in what she calls ' taken
for granted ways of thinking about identity and territory that are reflected in
ordinary language, in nationalist discourses, and in scholarly studies of
nations, nationalism, and refugees' (1992: 25). Only those aspects of her work
that impinge on refugee studies will be discussed. Malkki vehemently rejects
'the widely held commonsense assumptions linking people to place, nation to
territory' which she argues 'are not simply territorializing, but deeply
metaphysical' (Malkki 1992: 27). She contests what she calls the presumed
natural relationship between 'countries and roots, nations and national
People, Place, Identity and Displacement
391
identities' (1992: 26). She further argues that in the sedentarist thinking 'the
link between people and place is routinely conceived in specifically botanical
metaphors. That is, people are often thought of, and think of themselves, as
being rooted in place and as deriving their identity from that rootedness. The
roots in question here are not just any kind of roots; very often they are
specifically arborescent in form' (1992: 27).
In a comparative study of camp and self-settled Barundi refugees in western
Tanzania, she found 'radical differences in the meanings that people ascribed to
national identity and history, to notions of home and homeland, and to exile as
a collectively experienced condition' (Malkki 1995: 2, 1992: 35). She argued
that while the camp refugees engaged in ceaseless construction and reconstruction of their history as a 'people' (she refers to this as 'mythico-historical'
discourse) in an attempt to develop and maintain a distinct collective Hutu
identity, the self-settled refugees in Kigoma town did not engage in
'
spontaneous, oratorical, didactic monologues about the history of the
Hutu' (1995: 195) as a means of construction and reconstruction of a distinct
collective identity. They sought instead ways by which to assimilate themselves
into the larger society and consequently 'produced more cosmopolitan forms of
identity (1995: 4; emphasis added). We are told that it was the confinement in a
spatially segregated site that produced a distinct collective Hutu identity in
Mishamo. "The refugee camp had become both the spatial and the politicosymbolic site for imagining a moral and political community' (1995: 16). In
contrast to this, among the self-settled town refugees in Kigoma
relationships between roots and identity were very differently constituted. There
the very ability to 'lose' one's identity and to move through categories was for many
a form of social freedom and even security (1995: 16; emphasis added).
The corollary of this argument is that if the refugees had not been herded in a
spatially segregated site (Mishamo), the distinct collective Hutu identity would
have been lost as has been the case with the town refugees. In fact it is not clear
from Malkki's analysis whether the refugees, before their arrival in Tanzania,
had a distinct collective identity. If Malkki's findings are correct, more than
anything else it was the setting (settlement form) which constituted the most
critical element in the process of developing and maintaining a distinct
collective identity
In spite of Malkki's progressive approach and refreshingly innovative
analysis, some of the conclusions she draws on the lack of distinct collective
identity among the town refugees, the breakdown of their linkages with their
place (country) of origin and their 'past', and their aspiration to return home,
are not as empirically grounded as she maintains. After all, in some cases, even
her own data seem to contradict her conclusions. Firstly, Malkki does not pay
adequate attention to the policy environments in which the two groups found
themselves and how these influenced the expression of identities in the two
settings. Secondly, where the presence of self-settled refugees is prohibited by a
host government, those who defy such a prohibition often adopt a strategy of
392 Gaim Kibreab
invisibility, i.e. either by pretending to be what they are not or by not revealing
who they are. In such a situation, it is extremely difficult to distinguish between
a facade and a reality. Thirdly, where refugees live in a prohibited place and
consequently suffer discrimination and harassment because of their identity,
they may not tell the truth about how they identify themselves. Fourthly,
Malkki's fieldwork was conducted less than a decade and a half (1985/86) after
the occurrence of the 1972 genocide. Her conclusion, 'For most informants [in
Kigoma town], this past had simply passed...' (1995: 194), is an overstatement. Fourteen years may not be long enough to enable the refugees to
forget what happened to them and to their loved ones during the genocide and
dissociate themselves from their place of origin and history. Fifthly, Malkki
presents the two groups as mutually exclusive and hostile to each other because
the former considers the latter unpatriotic, having, as it were, 'sold out'. In
view of their common descent, mutual interest in fighting a common enemy,
and probable economic inter-dependence, the state of mutual exclusivity and
animosity sounds an overstatement. These points are discussed below.
Inauspicious Policy Environment and Manifestation of Identity
Tanzania, like any other refugee hosting country in Africa, has, from the
outset, placed all refugees in spatially segregated sites (Holborn 1975;
Armstrong 1988; Lugusha 1981). The major considerations underlying the
government's reception and settlement strategy, as elsewhere in Africa, may
include: (i) prevention of spontaneous integration of refugees; (ii) minimization
of costs and maximization of benefits to the government and its citizens from
the international refugee support systems; (iii) facilitation of control of refugees
as aliens, as well as avoidance of real or perceived external and/or internal
insecurity; and (iv) shifting of financial responsibility for meeting refugees'
needs to the international donor community indefinitely. As a result, between
80 and 90 per cent of all refugees in the country have been placed in organized
settlements as compared to 25 per cent in the rest of the continent (Armstrong
1988, 58).
Self-settlement was forbidden, and when it existed, this was in defiance of
Tanzanian government policy (Holborn 1975; Choi and Mbago 1990; Lugusha
1981). Living in a rural refugee camp is the least preferred option for all
refugees in Tanzania (see Lugusha 1981; Ogbru 1983). This is commonly true
among most African refugees with urban backgrounds (see Pirouet 1989;
Tandon 1984; Kibreab 1991, 1996b, 1994, 1995; Simmon-Thomas 1979; US
Embassy 1984; Weaver 1985). In view of the underdeveloped nature of the
administrative infrastructure, the prohibition on self-settlement was haphazardly enforced. Nevertheless, if discovered, self-settled refugees, especially
those who resided in towns such as Kigoma, were subjected to intermittent
round-ups, harassment, imprisonment, eviction, etc. (Choi and Mbago 1990;
Malkki 1995). They lived at the mercy of the immigration authorities, the
police and the security. Defying government policy to live in town also meant
People, Place, Identity and Displacement
393
that the refugees could not be formally employed, travel freely, obtain a trade
licence to engage in income-generating activities; own immovable property, or
establish open social networks (Malkki 1995). Nevertheless, the town refugees
(who could receive no outside assistance) were involved in income-generating
activities in a clandestine way, either hiding from the authorities or, if
approached, denying their Barundi or Hutu identity, claiming that they were
from one of the Tanzanian ethnic groups in the area. Under these
circumstances, any rational person in that position would avoid revealing or
parading their ethnic or national identity.The only way they could avoid the
danger of being detected was by hiding their identity, by adopting fictional
identity or by maintaining a very low economic and social profile in the hope
that their presence would go unnoticed. This involved going to the extent of
making themselves physically invisible.
Hie Strategy of Invisibility: A Facade or a Reflection of a Loss of Identity?
As we have seen, the refugees in Kigoma town lived as illegal residents under
conditions of generalized fear in which they lacked formally or informally
sanctioned rights and structures of redress. Under such circumstances, was it
reasonable for Malkki or any outsider to expect them to reveal their true
identity? The question that arises is whether this is a facade or a manifestation
of loss of Barundi or Hutu identity. My contention is that this was simply a
strategy, and their claim of belonging to one of the local populations was a
facade. Can a facade be transformed into a new identity over time by
effecting a change in those who use such a strategy as a temporary means of
coping? How is this to be measured?
Unlike those in Kigoma town, the refugees in Mishamo settlement had no
reason to hide their identity or to adopt a fictional one because they were living
in a site designated for them by the Tanzanian authorities. Malkki states that
when she completed her study among the camp refugees in Mishamo, she
moved to Kigoma town 'in pursuit of similar mythico-historical themes' (1995:
194) which to her dismay were not apparently there. When she approached
potential informants in the town, not only did they deny their 'refugee status'
but they also 'enquired why their history should be of interest to her' (1995:
194). In view of their experience of the 1972 genocide, for no other reason but
for belonging to a 'wrong' ethnic category, they had every reason to be
suspicious of outsiders who enquired about their past and present. In fact since
self-settlement of refugees in Kigoma town took place in defiance of the
Tanzanian government's policy, their status was never determined: they were
right to deny a status which they never had. Indeed it was because they did not
have refugee status, in spite of their well-founded fear of persecution at home,
that the town refugees were forced to become 'invisible' by hiding their Barundi
identity. Malkki states that in Kigoma, 'No spontaneous, oratorical, didactic
monologues about the history of the Hutu emerged' (1995: 195). In the hostile
policy environment in which the self-settled refugees found themselves,
394
Gaim Kibreab
engaging in 'oratorical didactic monologues' with strangers would have been
foolhardy. The town refugees were rational enough to understand the
consequences of such reckless behaviour.
Malkki raises the important question of fear as being the possible underlying
reason for the refugees' denial of their identity, but unfortunately she abandons
this conjecture without explaining why it was irrelevant. She says,
It seemed at first that the quest for invisibility was the effect of a generalized fear
of conspicuousness among the town refugees, and that this fear structured the
initiation and management of social relationships, as well as shaping other
domains of social action (1995: 157).
Nonetheless, without adducing any factual evidence to the contrary, she
asserts,
However, it would be misleading to characterize these strategies of invisibility
only as products of fear. The fact that worry and caution informed many aspects
of the refugees' social relationships with others should not conjure up an image of
them as 'cringing, huddled masses' (1995: 157).
Where people adopt a strategy of invisibility in an attempt to beat a policy that
forces them to relinquish their customary lifestyle by relocating them to a rural
setting with no economic opportunities, they will indeed not give the
impression of being submissive masses. A 'cringing huddled mass' does not
defy, but rather complies with a government policy with no questions asked.
The Barundi refugees would have been considered 'cringing huddled masses' if
they had succumbed to the Tanzanian authorities' policy of relocation because
of fear. The strategy of invisibility was an act of defiance and resistance rather
than being a manifestation of submissive behaviour or a lost identity.
According to Malkki, the reason why people changed their identity
situationally was not because of fear but rather due to the fact that:
... [PJeople believed that juggling identities could facilitate numerous routine
activities of daily life: avoiding harassment by immigration agents and other
officials; securing jobs; travelling; obtaining licences for petty trade, market spots,
and fishing; spending leisure time in bars and night spots; and conversing with
strangers (1995: 157).
By her own admission, if revealing one's identity resulted in: harassment by
immigration agents; loss of secure jobs; inability to travel, obtain a business
licence, gain access to market spots, or engage in other forms of incomegenerating activities; and inability to maintain open social contacts, the town
refugees must have lived in permanent fear of being detected. In fact, as we
have seen, detection also meant forcible relocation to a rural refugee settlement
(Mbago 1990; Barundi Refugees 1990). The town refugees also seriously feared
that if discovered they might be deported to Burundi against their will where in
their view there was no guarantee of their safety (Barundi Refugees 1990). As
we shall see later, the events that unfolded in April 1987 clearly show that the
state of fear under which the refugees in the Tanzanian towns lived was not
People. Place, Identity and Displacement 395
imagined, it was real. The town refugees were without civil and economic
rights. The only way they could circumvent, not always successfully, these
restrictions was by hiding their Barundian or Hutu identity or by pretending to
be what they were not.
One of the key determinants of refugee incorporation into host societies is
the attitude of the local population. Malkki's own data show that the local
population did not 'imagine' (Anderson 1983) the refugees as its own members.
The refugees in Kigoma town were stigmatized and bullied by the local people.
For example, an informant told her,
Apart from problems of food and lodging, the gravest problems were only that
the citizens considered us to be savage animals. I say this because sometimes, if
one hits a Burundian, it was said, 'Hit harder, it is a refugee'. For this we found
ourselves to be without value in their eyes (1995: 159).
Another informant told her 'No, I do not like the name "refugee", particularly
here in town. I prefer the name "citizen"; it is for my security" (1995: 161).Three
critical questions arise. Firstly, if the local population was so hostile toward the
refugees as Malkki's data suggest, was assimilation possible at all, no matter
how the refugees felt about it? Secondly, how could the refugees wish to be part
of such a society and to forget their past? Thirdly, if the reason for their
mistreatment and humiliation at the hands of the local population was solely
because they were from another country (place), possessed a different identity,
and consequently lacked membership entitlement in Kigoma town, is it
reasonable to expect them to state the truth about their identity or how they
identified themselves?
Any rational person would withhold information under the same circumstances. As an African proverb admonishes, 'A word is like a small bird. Once it
leaves the nest, it is impossible to catch it.' Therefugeesmight not suspect that
Malkki would pass on the information to the immigration or security
authorities, but nevertheless, aware of their vulnerability they might choose
the least risky option, i.e. not saying the truth about their identity, linkages with
their past and place of origin, as well as their plans for the future. This may, thus,
suggest that the reliability of the data Malkki elicited from the refugee
respondents in Kigoma town concerning the issue of identity cannot be taken for
granted. Malkki does not even raise this as a problem. It seems that she took the
information at face value without counter-checking it with other sources.
Appearances notwithstanding, Malkki's own data suggest that the town
refugees' denial of their identity was a facade devised to mislead in order to
avoid the risk of deportation, police harassment, public stigma and bullying, as
well as to gain access to employment and self-employment opportunities,
market spots, and rights of freedom of movement. According to Malkki, when
the town refugees 'referred to themselves collectively, they tended to use the term
"Burundians"... in preference to "Hutu'" (1995: 161-62; emphasis added). One
should also add that not only did the town refugees refer to themselves
collectively as Burundians in preference to Hutu but also in preference to
396
Gaim Kibreab
anything else, including to being Tanzanians or any Tanzanian ethnic group. If
it were true that the town refugees had lost their Barundi or Hutu identity in
favour of a 'cosmopolitan form of identity' (1995: 4), why did they define
themselves collectively as Burundians?
In contrast to the self-definition of the town refugees as Barundis, Malkki
states that those in Mishamo settlement defined themselves as 'Hutu' (1995:
162) and therefore she argues that the latter developed and maintained a
distinct collective identity but not the former. The question arises why 'Hutu'
should indicate a distinct collective identity, but 'Barundi' should not? There is
also nothing surprising in the self-definition of the town refugees as Barundi
rather than as Hutu. It is common practice among rural people to identify
themselves in terms of clan, tribe or ethnic affinity rather than in terms of
national identity. In urban areas where the level of education and politicization
may be higher, tribalism and ethnicity are considered retrogressive. As a result,
people may be less inclined to define themselves on the basis of ethnicity. Such
people are more inclined to define themselves on the basis of their national
identity .Thus, the self-definition of the town refugees in Kigoma as Barundis is
consistent with expectation. The fact that they still identified themselves as
Burundians rather than as Tanzanians or anything else, was a clear indication
not only of maintained national identity but also of their wish to remain so.
None of the Barundi exiles I know, including those who are born outside
Burundi, define themselves as Hutu. They all identify themselves as Barundi
and regardless of whether they will ever return home, I have not come across
one who does not wish, or intend, to return home in the future.
The fact that the townrefugeeswere reluctant to carry 'naturalization or party
documents' (Malkki 1995: 170) was another indication of the town refugees'
determination to keep their Barundian national identity. Malkki argues that the
scattered pattern of settlement in combination with the refugees' 'own strategy
of invisibility, meant that documentation was not an effective means of social
control' (1995: 170). Though this was true from the point of view of the
Tanzanian authorities, the reason why the townrefugeesdid not want to become
Tanzanian citizens or party members arguably had nothing to do with this. They
did not consider themselves Tanzanians. The fact that they persisted in
remaining Barundis in spite of the danger this entailed may show how much the
town refugees valued their national identity and had not given up the hope of
returning home. If this were not true, why would they prefer to lead a risky and
an invisible life? As we shall see later, none of these strategies was effective
enough to protect the refugees against being identified for deportation.
The town refugees also did not register to receive refugee identity cards, not
because they felt secure in scattered settlement form, but because on the one
hand, the government did not want toregularizetheir stay in the town and on the
other, they knew too well that possession of a refugee identity card did not
provide immunity against harassment or forcible relocation or even deportation
(Malkki 1995 [postscript]). The 'strategy of invisibility' was devised not as a
matter of choice but as a matter of necessity. Malkki gives the impression that
People. Place, Identity and Displacement
397
the government of Tanzania was willing to issue the town refugees identity
cards unconditionally (1995:170). What she does not mention is the fact that
the cost of receiving a refugee identity card was relocation to Mishamo or to
other settlement sites where the town refugees did not want to live. The
refugees were reluctant to come forward to register because of fear of eviction
from the town. It was not because they were adequately protected by their
strategy of invisibility. The town refugees must have been aware of the fact that
the strategy of invisibility carried with it an element of vulnerability. This
notwithstanding, Malkki asserts,
It is hardly surprising that many town refugees did not carry any of these three
kinds of documentation. The management of ethnic, religious, linguistic and
other signs and symptoms of naturalized identity obviated the need for refugee
identification cards as well as for a Turanian passport Successfully claiming to
be Muha, or a Muslim, or an immigrant, or simply a citizen from some region of
Tanzania was sufficient proof of legitimate residency for many of the town
refugees. Thus the use of these signs of identity can, indeed, be considered a form
of de facto naturalization (1995: pp 170-171).
In spite of these categorical assertions, in less than a year after Malkki
completed her fieldwork, the town refugees in Kigoma were mercilessly
rounded up and forcibly returned en masse to Burundi. An eyewitness, for
example, wrote to Malkki,
... it is Friday, the third of April [1987], a good number of Hutu refugees have
been loaded into lorries with the destination of their famous country of origin.
... The agents of immigration, of security, and of the police, gun in shoulderstrap,
enter in each of the homes of the refugees. The latter [refugee] present their
identities [identity cards] which sometimes are torn up by certain immigration
agents (Malkki 1995, Postscript: 263).
Refugees carrying identity cards issued by the Tanzanian government were not
spared from the act of mass expulsion. In fact, the Burundi daily, Le Renouveau
du Burundi on 14 April 1987 reported that 'more than half of those who arrived
declared themselves Tanzanians' (quoted in Malkki 1995: 265; emphasis in
original). This was in spite of her unequivocal assertion: 'Indeed, it often
seemed inappropriate to think of the town refugees as being in exile at all'
(1992: 36). She further states: 'Indeed, they dismantled the national
metaphysics by refusing a mapping and spurning origin queries altogether'
(1992: 36). It was most probably the fear of such a danger that induced the
town refugees to 'spurn origin queries' or to be reluctant to openly admit their
real identity or the means by which they maintained their linkages with their
homeland and their past. The cosmopolitanism the refugees exhibited was
nothing more than a facade devised to enable them operate in an environment
that did not allow them to be themselves.
The situation of Eritrean urban refugees in Sudan may further illustrate this.
Including Christians, some hid their identity, inter alia, by adopting Muslim
names, by speaking Arabic and by wearing jalabiya (Sudanese Muslim national
398 Gaim Kibreab
dress; see Karadawi 1999). Between the mid-1970s and the end of the 1980s, a
large number of Eritrean refugee women also migrated to Saudi Arabia from
Sudan by claiming that they were Muslims. They changed their names and
their dress to fit the description in their documentation. Whilst with their own
people, they used their real names and identity and even attended clandestine
political meetings, to Saudi officials, their employers, and the general public,
they were Muslims and they behaved accordingly. Many Eritrean Christian
malerefugeesalso migrated from Sudan to Saudi Arabia during the seasons of
Haj by adopting a fictional Muslim identity and travelling as 'pilgrims'
alongside their Muslim compatriots. Normally, for Christian Eritreans,
adopting a Muslim identity would be considered proscribed behaviour,
especially among the older generation. However, in the refugees' view, the
abnormal conditions of involuntary displacement—eking out a marginal living
defying host governments' policies, at risk of being detected and consequently
harassed, detained, fined, blackmailed and, in the case of those who emigrated
to Saudi Arabia, deported to Ethiopia—justified deviance from the norms of
cultural behaviour. Such a strategy of invisibility enabled them to carry out
their political, economic and social activities by evading (though not always
successfully) detection.
They hid or adopted a fictitious identity not because they had lost their
collective identity or attachment to their home country or they wanted to be
assimilated into Sudanese society. On the contrary, during the war of national
independence, it was those who hid or assumed fictive identities who were
amongst the most subversive and who moved freely, circumventing the laws
that limited their freedom of movement and residence, to mobilize and
organize the refugees into clandestine political cells; to distribute literature on
the revolution in the languages of the refugees and to raise funds for the war.
These activities were undertaken not just to keep the refugees informed about
political and social developments at home but also to enable them to maintain
and transmit to their offspring their national identity and history.
Self-settlement was also prohibited in the Sudan. In spite of the prohibition,
not only did tens of thousands of Eritrean refugees reside outside camps and
settlements, but they also engaged in diverse economic activities 'illegally'
mainly by concealing or by assumingfictiveidentities. They would never reveal
their Eritrean refugee identity to outsiders. If probed, they would claim
membership of one of the Sudanese border communities such as the Beni Amer
or the Habab. In fact some of them were full time freedom fighters, whose
major pre-occupation was to help Eritrean exiles to maintain their distinct
national identity. Like the Barundi refugees in Kigoma town, the majority of
the Eritrean refugees in the towns and cities of Sudan adopted a strategy of
invisibility in pursuit of economic activities which were not otherwise accessible
to them as refugees.
If we were to use Malkki's analogy, we would mistake this strategy of
invisibility as being one adopted to facilitate assimilation into Sudanese or
Saudi Arabian societies. Nothing could be further from the truth. The Eritrean
People, Place, Identity and Displacement
399
refugees' fictive identity was nothing more than a facade adopted to enable
them to operate effectively in exile and outside the framework of the host
country's institutional and attitudinal constraints. Hiding identity was not a
measure of loss of identity. In fact, my own longitudinal studies among
displaced people for a decade and a half in the Horn of Africa show, perhaps
not altogether surprisingly, that the propensity to maintain links with one's
homeland and to remain distinct from host populations is higher where host
governments' policies and local populations' negative attitudes force refugees
to 'deny' or hide their identities in pursuit of their daily life. The yearning to
return home, again perhaps not surprisingly, is also stronger in countries where
refugees cannot engage in economic activities (outside the designated areas)
without concealing their real identities or paying exorbitant informal charges
to obtain illegal documentation.
Thus, the fact that the Barundi town refugees hid or assumedfictiveidentity
may not per se mean that they had lost their links with Burundi or had assumed
deterritorialized cosmopolitan identity. Cosmopolitan identity cannot be
wished into existence in societies where identities are determined and rights
are apportioned on the basis of territorially anchored identities. In almost all
African countries, self-settled refugees are people without secure and enforceable rights.
Refugees as Guests
As in other third world countries, refugees in Africa, regardless of their
location and length of stay in countries of asylum, are treated as temporary
guests. For example, the Tanzanian Minister for Foreign Affairs pointed out:
In the past Tanzania has always approached the refugee crisis with the seriousness
it deserves by receiving all those who had fled their countries and providing them
with shelter. The government even gave them land and several were granted
citizenship, for which Tanzania was praised. Experience has proved that such
measures as granting of permanent refugee status, permanent settlement are not a
formula for a permanent solution to the refugee crisis. The solution indeed lies in the
countries of origin rather than in the countries of asylum which are burdened with
obligation... (quoted in Rutinwa 1996: 288; emphasis in original).
This is not only true in Tanzania. This statement clearly encapsulates the
general attitude of African governments towards refugees. For example, the
then Sudanese Commissioner for Refugees, H. Attiya, argued that the term
'integration' was misleading because it did not reflect Sudan's policy on
refugees and consequently did not give the right sense of treatment accorded to
refugees in the country.
If you talk of integration as a sort of naturalization, this is completely rejected in
Sudan... and I feel that refugees will not like it. Being a refugee in a country for
20, 30 or 100 years, I don't think will deprive you of your own nationality, your
400 Gaim Kibreab
own origin... That is why in Sudan you hear that refugees have adopted this
policy of local settlement, rather than local integration (Attiya 1988).
The Commissioner for Refugees also argued:
refugees should be given a certain place to live in, to continue their own sort of
relations with their own people [not with Sudanese], not to forget their country,
because we are not interested that they will forget their countries; they have to go
back. We don't want more population in this country: it is enough (Attiya 1988).
One of the reasons why African governments, including Tanzania, keep refugees
in spatially segregated sites is, inter alia, to prevent their incorporation into host
societies so that once the circumstances that prompted their displacement and
flight have changed, repatriation is easily enforceable. In Tanzania, repatriation
was carried out by force before the factors that forced the refugees to flee were
eliminated (Malkki 1995, postscript; Rutinwa 1996, 1998).
In the post-Cold War period, there has been a remarkable shift in refugee
policies, including in Tanzania. Not only did the latter expel Barundian refugees
in 1987, but it also closed its border with Burundi in 1993 and with Rwanda in
the aftermath of the 1994 genocide (Rutinwa 1998: 7). Border closures were
accompanied by mass expulsion of refugees who had sought asylum in the
country during the last three decades (Rutinwa 1998: 7). Most of the victims
were self-settled refugees in Kigoma (Vincent Parker, UNHCR Spokesman in
Tanzania, quoted in Rutinwa 1998: 7). These were the people who were referred
to by Malkki as people with 'cosmopolitan identity'. Again in March 1995, the
Tanzanian government closed its border with Burundi (Rutinwa 1996:295). In a
parliamentary debate, the Minister of Foreign Affairs declared, 'We are saying
enough is enough. Let us tell the refugees that the time has come for them to
return home and no more should come' (quoted in Rutinwa 1996: 295). The
available data clearly show that not even the refugees who came to Tanzania
decades ago and who were 'naturalized' were spared.
The shift towards xenophobic restrictionism is increasingly a universal
pattern. In most host countries, neither governments nor their citizens
'imagine' refugees as being members of their society. One of the consequences
has been that states, communities and individuals within geographically
bounded spaces have become more territorial than ever before. Because of this,
territorially-based identity has become a scarce resource which is jealously
guarded and protected by those who perceive themselves as standing to lose by
an influx of refugees or immigrants from other countries.
Democratization and Anti-Refugee Attitudes
In many African countries where there have been multi-party elections,
refugees are accused of being the cause of economic hardship and social ills
such as theft, prostitution and illegal cross-border trade. Opportunist
politicians and nationals blame most shortages on refugees. The latter are
People, Place. Identity and Displacement
401
used as scapegoats (see Kibreab 1995, 1996b; Karadawi 1983, 1985; Rutinwa
1996, 1998). Ironically, the anti-refugee campaign has assumed unprecedented
momentum as a result of the democratization process in many African
countries (see Kibreab 1995). As pointed out by UNHCR, '... because of the
democratization process, governments increasingly accountable to the public
opinion may be tempted to tighten their refugee policies in response to these
negative perceptions...' (quoted in Rutinwa 1998: 13). According to Rutinwa,
one of the many reasons why the 'non-refoidement norm is virtually a dead
letter in Africa' (1998: 8), including in Tanzania, is because of the
democratization process, which forces parliamentary candidates to adopt an
anti-refugee stance in order to win votes.
Indeed, another major reason which influenced the decision of Tanzania to
tighten its refugee policy in 1995, was the then impending general election.
Because of the impact which the refugee inflow had had on local communities, the
mood of the people in Tanzania was anti-refugee. Politicians of all parties were
aware of this and decided to play to the sentiments of the people by promising to
send all refugees [including those who were in the country for decades] back if
elected. The ruling party then took advantage of being in power to demonstrate
that they could do it immediately (Rutinwa 1998: 13).
The so-called negative impact of refugees on the host population is, more often
than not, perceptual rather than real. Such anti-refugee policies are not unique
to Tanzania. In post-apartheid South Africa, the major obstacle to refugee
legislative reform was, ironically, democratization.Thus Human Rights Watch,
for example, observed:
Unfortunately, with the 1999 general elections beginning to appear on the
political horizon in South Africa, the window of opportunity for migration and
refugee legislative reform is becoming increasingly smaller. In the current
xenophobic climate, politicians may feel that rights-based arguments in favour of
immigration reform means lost votes (quoted in Rutinwa 1998: 139).
Post-apartheid South Africa is awash with anti-immigrant and anti-refugee
xenophobic stereotypes (see McDonald et al. 1998). The former victims of
apartheid have become victimizers of the vulnerable who come to South Africa
in search of protection or livelihood. This was also true of Sudan. Open antirefugee campaigns were intensified during the second half of the 1980s when the
advent of a democratically elected government liberalized control over the mass
media (Kibreab 1995, 1996b). Though democratization may in the long term
eliminate the causes of displacement, in the short term it provides an outlet for
anti-refugee sentiments that might have been suppressed during periods of
political dictatorship.
Exclusion of Refugees from Host Societies
The question that arises is: are environments characterized by unfavourable
host governments' policies and negative public opinion conducive for the
402 Gaim Kibreab
formation of deterritorialized cosmopolitan identity regardless of place of
origin? It is not only the desire of refugees to be cosmopolitanized or to be
detached from their past that matters (though it is also dangerous to take this
for granted). There should also be favourable government policies and
receptive host societies that accept refugees or immigrants as fellow humans
regardless of their religion, ethnic, national or geographic origin. Global
citizenship or cosmopolitan identity cannot be established in a spatial vacuum.
As we saw earlier, in Tanzania, the refoulement of refugees to Burundi, where
the factors that caused displacement were intact, began less than a year after
Malkki completed her fieldwork. These facts are clearly borne out by her own
data. The Barundi refugees in Tanzania, including those who were naturalized
and born in the country, as well as those who carried refugee identity cards
issued by Tanzanian authorities, were forcibly deported to Burundi against
their will in 1987. This mass expulsion did not take place in response to
political changes in the refugees' country of origin but rather due to change of
policy in Tanzania. If this can take place in Tanzania, until then, considered as
Africa's most generous refugee-hosting country, it can be concluded that
refugees may no longer be safe elsewhere in the continent. This is not because
the problem is intrinsically incapable of solution outside refugees' countries of
origin, but because host countries are not willing, and in most cases are unable,
to incorporate refugees into their societies, which are often hostile to refugees.
That is why Rutinwa asserts that in Africa, the norm of non-refoulement has
become a dead letter (1998).
Memory and Collective Identity
Concerning the town refugees' linkages with their history and country, Malkki
asserts, 'It could be argued that this relationship consisted of a simple denial of
history among the town refugees. After all, their strategies of invisibility
entailed a denial of the identities that would root them in Burundi' (1995: 193).
Malkki further states, 'For most informants [in Kigoma town], this past had
simply passed...' (1995: 194). The fact that the town refugees were unwilling to
engage with outsiders, including herself, in an open discussion concerning their
past does not necessarily mean that they were not interested in or had forgotten
their history. Victims of genocide may forgive over time but they may not
easily forget. One way by which survivors may cope with their distress could be
by selectively 'forgetting' the most painful events. Survivors of genocide may
also be reluctant to talk about their pain with outsiders, but this should not be
construed as an indication that the victims have forgotten their past.
One of the key pieces of evidence Malkki uses to show that the town refugees
had lost their identity and their attachment to their country of origin is their
failure to engage in 'mythico-historical' discourse and practice as a means of
developing and maintaining a distinctive collective Hutu identity as is
commonly practised by their compatriots in Mishamo settlement. Though
there are no data to confirm this, it is reasonable to assume that the town
People, Place, Identity and Displacement 403
refugees were people who previously lived in towns in Burundi, working in
urban professions or trades. If this is true, the so-called 'mythico-historical'
method of maintaining collective identity may be incompatible with their
'modern' world outlook. Since most of the town refugees were probably
literate, it is possible that they read and wrote about their country and history
instead. The fact that they did not engage in the so-called 'mythico-historical'
discourse did not mean that they lacked other means (suitable to their invisible
existence) of perpetuating their identity or of transmitting their culture to their
offspring. The 'mythico-historical' method is not the only avenue available to
the refugees for maintaining and passing on their distinct collective identity.
Refugees, especially those who live under permanent fear of detection, are
inventive and are thus able to develop their own means of achieving the same
ends. These may be difficult for outsiders to detect. The Barundi refugees were
aware that the local population and the government authorities treated them
with contempt. However, it is unreasonable to assume that they would easily
forget their past and give up the hope of return home in safety and dignity
some time in the future. For example, none of the Eritrean and Ethiopian
refugee groups in Sudan practised anything near what Malkki calls 'mythicohistorical' discourse, but they have been able to maintain and perpetuate their
collective identities by other means.
Hostility and Difference between 'Camp' and Town Refugees
Malkki postulates that the 'camp' refugees see the town refugees as 'traitors' or
unpatriotic because of their alleged abandonment of their history, country and
Hutu cultural identity in pursuit of self-interest by assimilating into Tanzanian
society (1995). As a result, the Hutu refugees in Mishamo are said to be hostile
to the refugees in Kigoma town. The extent of hostilities and differences that
Malkki claims exist between the 'camp' and town refugees is probably an
overstatement. Firstly, Malkki conducted her fieldwork in 1985-86, i.e. 13/14
years after the arrival of the Barundi refugees in Tanzania. Secondly, the
factors that prompted the displacement of both the camp and town refugees
were identical. Both groups were victims of violence perpetrated by the ruling
elite in Burundi. They were targeted mainly because of their ethnic identity.
Thirdly, it is reasonable to assume that the refugees in the camp had some of
their family members among the town refugees and vice versa. It is also not
unreasonable to assume that symbiotic and reciprocal economic and social
interactions exist between the two groups. In view of all these factors, the
questions that arise are firstly, is a period of 13/14 years long enough to erase
long-standing social networks based on common kinship or residence, as well
as for such massive differences in identity to develop? Secondly, in view of the
town and camp refugees' kinship and other forms of affinities, as well as being
victims of a common enemy, how is it possible that the camprefugeesview the
town refugees (their own kinsfolk) with a sense of disdain and hostility? In the
context of African rural reality, it seems quite unreasonable to perceive the two
404
Gaim Kibreab
groups as antagonistically opposed and mutually exclusive entities in spite of
their common origin and communality of interests. This sounds quite alien to
the African social reality. As Daley, reviewing Purity and Exile, observes:
Malkki also fails to tackle the level of interactions between camp and town
refugees. Her interpretation of hostility between the two groups may not be so
obvious when one realizes that many families straddle these locations, and people
often moved between these spaces during their asylum history (Daley 1996: 432).
livelihoods, Places and Identities
In the introduction to In Search of Cool Ground, Allen and Turton (1996) also
postulate that the 'primary concern' of displaced populations in northeast
Africa 'is to find a relatively secure [cool] place in which to begin working
towards a better life, often irrespective of the country in which that place is
located.' The corollary of this statement is the lack of a sense of attachment to
particular territories or homelands. Their home is where the grass is greener
and consequently identities are derived from traditions of continuous and
uninterrupted mobility rather than from attachment to a particular location.
The phrase 'in search of cool ground' is derived from the Mursi (a small agropastoral community in southwestern Ethiopia), whose way of life, according to
Turton, is characterized by a ceaseless search for a land 'flowing with milk and
honey', wherever its location (1996: 102). However, since according to Turton,
the Mursi's movement was limited to a distance of 35 kilometres—a distance
commonly covered in seasonal movements by African pastoral and agropastoral communities—it is not possible to discount the significance of the
geographical location of the 'cool ground' under all circumstances. There is
nothing, for example, which suggests that had the Mursi in their search moved
to the Gojam or Begemedir highlands in northern Ethiopia, where the physical
and social environment as well as the lifestyles are completely different from
that in their traditional homeland, they would sustain no sense of displacement
and nostalgia. How people feel about their place of habitual residence or
country is also inextricably linked with the cause of displacement. If the
decision to change location is taken voluntarily, and assuming there are
(un)territorialized places that are readily available for occupation or for
establishment of a new home without compromising one's freedom and
collective identity, there is no reason why this should be a problem. Such
movements have always been an integral part of the history of people
inhabiting arid and semi-arid regions. However, if people are forced to
abandon their country or place of origin against their will, and to move to
territorialized places where they cannot claim entitlement based on past
physical occupation or membership of a group occupying such a place, the
desire to return to one's place of origin is invariably powerful.
This is even true among the Mursi whose identity is said to be formed in a
state of mobility. According to an UNRISD report (most probably authored
People, Place, Identity and Displacement
405
by Turton), the Mursi had two experiences of displacement between 1979 and
1987, of which the former was drought-induced and hence to some extent
voluntary, and the latter was involuntary in which the Mursi were driven out of
their homeland by a violent attack perpetrated by a neighbouring group, the
Nyangatom, who 'massacred several hundred Mursi in one day, using
automatic weapons' (1993: 9). It is interesting to note that the droughtinduced movement 'was undertaken in the hope (and expectation) that it would
be permanent and the second [the involuntary one] in the hope that it would be
temporary. For the one, return would mean failure and for the other, success'
(UNRISD 1993: 9 emphasis added). In 1987, the Mursi fled in search of safety
and security to avoid death and destruction without even burying their loved
ones. It is not surprising, therefore, that they perceived their displacement as
being temporary and ability to return to their homelands as a success. This is
precisely how involuntarily displaced populations in the continent perceive
their displacement. Not only do most African refugees perceive their
involuntary displacement as temporary but also return is considered as a
great success. Return to the place from which one has been violently uprooted
is an overriding preoccupation, bordering obsession, of most refugee
populations in Africa.
This is not only true in Africa. In spite of the fact that the Greek-Cypriot
refugees are hosted by their co-ethnics and are resettled in their own island
(albeit in the southern part), Zetter's longitudinal studies show similar results
(1994, 1999).
Consistent with most refugee populations, the Greek-Cypriot refugees display
enduring and powerful images, which evoke a familiar, idealized past and sustain
the memory of collective loss. This is captured in physical symbols and the
reconstruction of a cultural inventory. It isreinforcedby the poignant imagery of
the past and graphic Goffinanesque metaphors... which the refugees use to
describe their present conditions and the fragmentation of their social networks
and village communities (ZetteT 1999: 4-5).
Zetter further observes, ' . . . when the socio-cultural identity of dislocated
people is strongly place oriented, [as the subjects of his study], then integration
in a new environment is notably problematic' (1999: 5).
The perceptions and aspirations of the involuntarily displaced Mursi and the
Greek-Cypriots represent an encapsulation of the general feeling, perception
and aspiration of many refugees. This notwithstanding, Turton in his case
study of the Mursi argues:
The very word 'displacement' implies an assumption that all human populations
'belong' in a certain place and that, in an ideal world, they would all be where
they belong. This in turn implies that the identity people gain from their
association with a particular place is in some way fundamental or 'natural' and
that to be deprived of that identity is to lose some part of one's very humanity
(1996: 97).
406 Gaim Kibreab
I think the key variable which determines how people perceive displacement
and return to places or countries of origin is dependent, on the one hand, on
the conditions under which they leave their places of origin; and, on the other,
on the treatment they receive and opportunities existing at the destination. The
experience of the two Mursi groups is a classic case in point. However, such
statements have become commonplace in the debate on place, location,
displacement, community, identity, etc. (see, for example, Appadurai 1988,
1990; Clifford 1992; Gupta and Ferguson 1992; UNRISD 1993; Rosaldo 1988;
Kaplan 1987; Leonard 1992; Cohen, 1985; Breckenridge and Appadurai 1989;
Warner 1994; Stepputat 1994; Connolly 1991; Walker 1991; Malkki 1992,
1995; Allen and Turton 1996).
The questions which Turton raises, whether there are 'natural' places where
'all human populations belong' from which they derive their identity, and
whether displacement from such 'natural' places constitutes deprivation of
identity resulting in 'loss of some part of one's very humanity' are critically
important. While the first question is not a moot point, the second cannot be
answered a priori. It is an empirical question. In an ideal world, human
beings are capable of living together in harmony, not by overlooking but by
embracing and respecting their differences. In such a world, where rights are
apportioned to people on the basis of being humans regardless of their place
of origin, countries or places may not matter. But there may also be no
involuntary displacement in such an ideal world. This does not, however,
suggest that there will not be other forms of social exclusion. It only means
that territorially based identity would not be one of them. This ideal world
has no boundaries which classify peoples as 'insiders' and 'outsiders'. In this
ideal world, people no longer identify themselves as a particular nationality
but rather as citizens of a single deterritorialized global world. The
desirability of this ideal world of global citizenship notwithstanding, we are
very far away from being able to declare, to borrow Garrison's eloquent
formulation: 'Our country is the world—our countrymen are all mankind'
(1832; emphasis added).
Unfortunately, the globalization process manifested in integration of
international markets has not been accompanied by opening of borders to
those who are forced to move in search of safe haven and succour. Though
globalization has effectively reduced the capability of smaller states to shape
their national macro-economic policies, their ability or determination to close
their borders and to reject those who are already within their territories has not
diminished. In fact global interconnectedness notwithstanding, the propensity
of many societies, including formerly 'cohesive' ones, to define themselves on
the basis of their ethnic, national, spatial origin, religion, as well as to belong to
culturally and ethnically distinct territorial locations by excluding, sometimes
by violent means, those whom they consider as 'others', has never been higher.
Thus, with regard to solutions to the refugee problem, the debate on place,
displacement, identity and repatriation, although inspired by the phenomenon
of globalization, and undoubtedly quite progressive, is awry and misplaced.
People, Place, Identity and Displacement 407
The sombre realities facing the displaced and the dispossessed on the ground
do not remotely match the so-called deterritorialition of identity. Place still
remains a major repository of rights and membership (Cooke in Watts 1992).
The assumption that identities are deterritorialized and state territories are
readily there to be seized, regardless of place or national origin, has no
objective existence outside the minds of such scholars.
The identity which people gain from their association with a particular place
is not per se intrinsically fundamental. But in a world in which many rights
such as equal treatment, access to sources of livelihoods, access to land, rights
of freedom of movement and residence, are determined on the basis of
territorially anchored identities, the identity people gain from their association
with a particular country is an indispensable instrument to a socially and
economically fulfilling end. The end in this case is a dignified existence
manifested in the capability to function and to exercise freedom of choice and
independence, without being constrained by the manacles of 'otherness'. In
most African and Asian countries, states and their citizens exclude or
discriminate against outsiders, including refugees, on the sole grounds that
they are not members of that territorially anchored society.
Therefore, it does not make sense to deny the importance of territorially
based identity as being critical to human wellbeing. As Watts argues, '... a
growing concern with context and a belated recognition that local socialization
is central to the constitution of society has meant that societies must now be
seen as constituted in time and space' (Watts 1992; 118). Watts referring to
Gregory and Urry's work further asserts, 'Social structures cannot be
separated from spatial structures' (in Watts 1992, 118). Willy-nilly, in many
African and Asian refugee-hosting societies, territorially anchored identity is a
sine qua non for the enjoyment of rights to property, equal treatment before the
law, freedom of movement and residence, political participation, etc. As long
as territorially anchored identity remains the basis of membership and of
apportioning rights, involuntary displacement by uprooting people from their
places of origin undoubtedly constitutes gross deprivation and loss of 'some
part of one's very humanity.'
In such a situation, there may be no substitute for one's homeland. This is
not because the link between refugees and their territories is intrinsically
indispensable (this may also be true), but because firstly, refugees are uprooted
against their will from their countries of origin and secondly, in most Third
World countries, there are no places outside refugees' countries of origin where
the former are treated on equal footing with those whose identities are
territorially based. Thus, return is not per se an end in itself but rather a means
to an end, i.e. a means of ridding oneself of spatial confinement, enabling
opportunities by virtue of being spatially anchored. This does not suggest that
return is a magic wand, which transforms returnees' lives automatically.
However, if repatriation occurs as a result of fundamental and durable changes
in countries of origin, it may improve the quality of life of returnees
substantially.
408 Gaim Kibreab
To conclude: the relationship between a territory and identity, not in terms
of a link between a people and a soil, as such, but rather in terms of
membership of a state occupying a given territory with the right to exclude
others from that territory, is significant. People tend to identify strongly with
their territories because of the opportunity this offers regarding rights of access
to resources and protection by virtue of being a member or citizen of that
territory. People identify themselves with territories where their entitlements
emanate from belonging to a society, which occupies a geographically bounded
physical space. Unless the communities in question are divided along ethnic,
tribal, clan and religious affiliations and are hostile to each other, the
attachment may not be to a particular physical place within a state as such but
rather to a country. However, that physical space is not necessarily indefinitely
fixed. Countries or communities can expand their territorial possessions or may
open new territories or may. lose their old possessions. However, their
inhabitants may still feel at home as long as the change of location does not
involve exposure to dramatic climatic or other forms of change or loss of
rights. Though at a higher level of abstraction, the 'primary concern' of
displaced populations in northeast Africa may be to find a relatively cool or
secure place in which to establish themselves for a better life, in today's reality
of northeast Africa, such a place is, more often than not, no longer available
outside one's country of origin. The corollary of this is that repatriation still
represents one of the most important solutions to the refugee problem in the
region.
ALLEN, T. and TURTON, D. (1996) 'Introduction: In Search of Cool Ground' in Allen, T. (ed.),
In Search of Cool Ground: War, Flight and Homecoming in Northeast Africa. Oxford: James
Currey.
ANDERSON, B. (1983) Imagined Communities. London; Verso.
APPADURAL A. (1988) 'Why Public Culturer Public Culture 1(1): 5-9.
-.
(1990) 'Disjuncture and Difference in the Global Cultural Economy", Public Culture 2(2): 124.
ARMSTRONG, A. (1988) 'Aspects of Refugee Wellbeing in Settlement Schemes: An Examination
of the Tanzanian Case', Journal of Refugee Studies 1(1): 57-73.
ATTIYA, H. (1988). Interview in Refugees, No.52, April.
BARUNDI REFUGEES (1990) Personal Communication, Arusha, Tanzania.
BRECKENRIDGE, C. and APPADURAL A. (1989) 'On Moving Targets', Public Culture 2(1): iiv.
CASTILLO, M. A. and HATHAWAY, J. C (1997) Temporary Protection' in Hathaway, J. C.
(ed.), Reconceivtng International Refugee Law. The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff.
CHAVEZ, L. R. (1991) 'Outside the Imagined Community: Undocumented Settlers and
Experiences of Incorporation', American Ethnologist 18(2): 257-277.
CHOL, A. and MBAGO, M. (1990) Personal Communication, Arusha, Tanzania.
CLIFFORD, J. (1992) Travelling Cultures' in Grossberg, L., Nelson, C. and Treichler, P. (eds.),
Culture Studies. New York: Routledge.
COHEN, A. (1985) The Symbolic Construction of Community. New York: Tavistock.
COLES, G. J. L. (1985) A Background Study Prepared for the Round Table on Voluntary
Repatriation Convened by the Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees in
co-operation with the International Institute of Humanitarian Law, San Remo, 16-19 July.
CONNOLLY, W. E. (1991) 'Democracy and Territoriality', Millennium: Journal of International
Studies 20(3): 163-184.
DALEY, P. (1996) Review of Malkki, L. (1995) Purity and Exile, Memory and National Cosmology
among the Hutu Refugees in Tanzania in Journal of Refugee Studies 9(4):431-433.
People. Place, Identity and Displacement
409
EZRAHL S. (1992) "Our Homeland, the Text Our Text the Homeland: Exile and Homecoming In
the Modem Jewish Immigration', Michigan Quarterly Review 31(4): 463-497.
GARRISON, W. L. (1832) Thoughts on African Colonization, Boston, Mass.
GREGORY, D. and URRY, J. (1985) 'Introduction' in Gregory, D. and Urry, J. (eds.), Social
Relations and Spatial Structures. London: Macmillan.
GUPTA, A. (1992) The Song of the Nonaligned World: Transnational Identities and the
Reinscription of Space in Late Capitalism', Cultural Anthropology 7: 63-79.
GUPTA, A. and FERGUSON, J. (1992) 'Beyond Culture', Cultural Anthropology 7 (1): 6-23.
HOLBORN, L. (1975) Refugees: A Problem of Our Tone: The Work of the United Nations High
Commissioner for Refugees. 2 vols. Metuchen, NJ.: Scarecrow Press.
KAPLAN, C. (1987) 'Deterritorializations: The Rewriting of Home and Exile in Western Feminist
Discourse', Culture Critique 6: 187-198.
KARADAWL A. (1983) 'Constraints on Assistance to Refugees: Some Observations from the
Sudan', World Development 11(6): 537-547.
(1985) 'The Dynamics of Policy Towards the Refugee Problem in Sudan', Paper for the
Conference 'Sudan After Nimeiri', School of Oriental and African Studies, September
(unpublished).
(1999) Refugee Policy in Sudan 1967-1984. Oxford: Berghahn Books.
KIBREAB, G. (1991) 'Stranded Birds of Passage?: Eritrean and Ethiopian Refugees in Khartoum,
Sudan', Refuge: Canada's Periodical on Refugees 10(4).
(1994) 'The Problem of Refugees in the Sudan: Some Unresolved Issues', in Adelman, H. and
Sorenson, J. (ed.), African Refugees: Development Aid and Repatriation. Boulder, CO/Oxford:
Westview Press.
(1995) 'The African Refugee Regime with Emphasis on Northeast Africa: Emerging Issues' in
Adehnan, H. (ed.) Legitimate and Illegitimate Discrimination: New Directions in Immigration.
Toronto: York Lanes Press.
(1996a) Ready, Willing, but Still Waiting: Factors Influencing the Decision of Eritrean Refugees
in Sudan to Return Home. Uppsala: Life and Peace Institute.
(1996b) 'Eritrean and Ethiopian Refugees in Khartoum: What the Eye Refuses to See',
African Studies Review 39(3): 131-178.
LEONARD, K. (1992) 'Finding One's Own Place: The Imposition of Asian Landscapes on Rural
California' in Rouse, R., Ferguson, J. and Gupta, A. (eds.), Power, Place: Explorations in
Critical Anthropology. Boulder Westview Press.
LUGUSHA, E. A. (1981) 'A Final Report on a Socio-Economic Survey of Barundi Refugees in
Kigoma Region', Dar es Salaam, Economic Research Bureau (unpublished manuscript).
McDONALD, D., GAY, J., ZINYAMA, L., MATTERS, R. and DE VLEHER, F. (1998)
Challenging Xenophobia: Myths and Realities about Cross-Border Migration in Southern Africa.
Migration Policy Series, The Southern African Migration Project, Cape Town.
MALKKL. L. (1990) 'Context and Consciousness: Local Conditions for the Production of
Historical and National Thought among Hutu Refugees in Tanzania' in Fox, R. G. (ed).
Nationalist Ideologies and the Production of National Cultures. American Ethnological Society
Monograph Series, 2. Washington, D.C.: American Anthropological Association.
(1992) 'National Geographic: The Rooting of Peoples and the Territoriahzation of National
Identity among Scholars and Refugees', Cultural Anthropology 7(1): 24-44.
(1995) Purity and Exile: Violence, Memory and National Cosmology Among the Hutu Refugees
in Tanzania. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
MBAGO, M. (1990). Personal Communication, Arusha, Tanzania.
OGBRU, B. (1983). Tanzanian Refugee Caseload Survey, UNHCR, Dar es Salaam.
PIROUET, L. D. (1989) 'Urban Refugees in Nairobi: Small Numbers, Large Problems'. Paper for
the African Studies Association Symposium on Refugees, London.
ROSALDO, R. (1988) 'Ideology, Place and People without Culture', Cultural Anthropology 3(1):
77-87.
RUTINWA, B. (1996) The Tanzanian Government's Response to the Rwandan Emergency',
Journal of Refugee Studies 9(3): 291-302.
(1998) 'Responding to the Arrival of Asylum-Seekers: The End of Asylum: The Changing
Nature of Refugee Policies in Africa and other Developing Regions'. Paper for the Technical
Symposium on International Migration and Development, The Hague, 29 June-3 July 1998.
SACK, R. D. (1986) Human Territoriality: Its Theory and History. Oxford: Oxford University
Press.
410 Gaim Kibreab
SAID, E. (1979) 'Zionism from the Point of View of its Victims' Social Text 1: 7-58.
SIMMON-THOMAS, A. (1979) 'Urban Refugee Welfare in A City", REF/AR/CONF/BD9, Pan
African Conference on Refugees, Arusha, May.
STEPPUTAT, F. (1994) 'Repatriation and the Politics of Space: The Case of the Mayan Diaspora
and Return Movement', Journal of Refugee Studies 7(2/3): 175-185.
TANDON, Y. (1984) 'Ugandan Refugees in Kenya: A Community of Enforced Self-Reliance',
Disasters 8(4):267-271.
TRAGER, L. (1995) 'Women Migrants and Rural-Urban Linkages in southwestern Nigeria' in
Baker, J. and Aina, T. A. (eds.), The Migration Experience in Africa. Uppsala: Nordiska
Africainstitutet.
TURTON, D. (1996) 'Migrants and Refugees: A Mursi Case Study' in Allen, T. (ed.), In Search of
Cool Ground: War, Flight and Homecoming in Northeast Africa. Oxford: James Currey.
UNHCR (1950) Statute of UNHCR, Annex to Resolution 428(V) of the UN General Assembly.
(1980) Executive Committee 31st Session no. 18.
UNRISD (1993) Refugees Returning Home. Report on the Symposium for the Horn of Africa on
the Social and Economic Aspects of Mass Voluntary Movements of Refugees. Addis Ababa 1517 September 1992.
US EMBASSY (1984) 'Refugees in Sudan's Urban Centres'. Office of Refugee Affairs, Khartoum.
WALKER, R. B. J. (1991) 'State Sovereignty and the Articulation of Political Space/Time',
Millennium: Journal of International Studies 20(3): 445-461.
WARNER, D. (1992) 'We are All Refugees', International Journal of Refugee Law 4(3): 365-372.
(1994) 'Voluntary Repatriation and the Meaning of Return to Home: A Critique of Liberal
Mathematics', Journal of Refugee Studies 7(2/3): 160-174.
WATTS, M. J. (1992) 'Space for Everything (A Commentary)', Cultural Anthropology 7: 115-128.
WEAVER, J. L. (1985) 'Sojoumers Along the Nile: Ethiopian Refugees in Khartoum', Journal of
Modem African Studies 23(1): 147-156.
WEIL, S. (1987) [1952] The Need for Roots: Prelude to a Declaration of Duties Towards Mankind.
New York: Ark.
ZETTER, R. (1994) 'Greek-Cypriot Refugees: Perceptions of Return under Conditions of
Protracted Exile', International Migration Review 28(2): 307-322.
(1999) 'Reconceptualizing the Myth of Return: Continuity and Transition Amongst the
Greek-Cypriot Refugees of 1974', Journal of Refugee Studies 12(1): 1-22.
MS received February 1999: revised MS received April 1999