Julian Hopwood reflects in this 2 part series blog on matters of evidence in both the Ugandan justice system and in popular understandings of witchcraft

Hopwood, Julian

English

LSE Research Online

Truth,	Evidence	and	Proof	in	the	realm	of	the	unseen.Part	IJulian	Hopwood	reflects	in	this	2	part	series	blog	on	matters	of	evidence	in	both	the	Ugandan	justice	system	and	inpopular	understandings	of	witchcraft.In	March	this	year	I	went	to	a	workshop	in	Kampala	on	witchcraft	and	security.	One	of	the	most	intriguing	thingsabout	the	meeting	was	that	it	included	some	participants	and	contributors	who,	at	a	personal	level,	experiencedwitchcraft	as	absolutely	unreal,	and	others	who	regarded	it	as	undoubtedly	factual.	What	I	found	strange	was	that	thisdid	not	emerge	in	the	course	of	our	discussions,	but	was	rather	something	I	was	only	aware	of	through	past	personalcommunications	with	some	of	those	present.	It	would	not	seem	strange	for	atheists	and	believers	to	debate	Christiantheology	but	somehow	one	would	expect	their	positions	to	emerge.	It	is	complicated	–	the	unbelievers	are	perhapsstruggling,	as	good	ethnographers,	to	suspend	their	disbelief,	while	believers	are	maybe	aware	of	this	and	resent	theimplied	patronage	(though	many	other	dynamics	may	also	be	at	play).	The	resulting	discomfort	was	comparable	tothose	social	occasions	where	an	atheist	(me)	is	accepting	hospitality	from	people	with	fundamentalist	religiousbeliefs	–	or	(I	guess)	vice	versa.	Good	manners	demand	suppression	of	ones	views	in	ways	they	do	not	in	mostacademic	situations.The	day	was	kicked	off	by	Peter	Geschiere,	author	of	works	including	The	Modernity	of	Witchcraft	and	Witchcraft,Intimacy	and	Trust.	His	talk	included	discussion	of	the	problems	of	the	subject	in	relation	to	what	one	might	call	theOthering	of	Africa.	He	described	how	in	his	doctoral	research	in	Cameroon	in	the	1970s,	he	had	originally	planned	towork	on	African	local	politics	but	found	instead	that	witchcraft	was	a	much	more	vibrant	and	consuming	interest	in	thecommunity	he	was	based	in.	His	concern	was	to	address	the	issue	without	contributing	to	what	one	might	call	theexoticisation	of	Africa.	His	subsequent	work	has	sought	to	show	how	witchcraft	is	both	a	thoroughly	contemporaryand	fast	evolving	matter,	as	well	as	far	from	unique	to	Africa.Since	then	I	have	been	pondering	Othering.	In	anthropological	and	psychoanalytic	theory	it	is	often	a	complex	idea,but	I	am	thinking	simply	about	the	tendency	for	Westerners	to	try	to	‘understand’	Africans	through	focussing	ondifference	and	using	that	difference	to	generate	emotional	distance,	to	make	alien.	In	Gulu	in	northern	Uganda	whereI	have	lived	for	some	years	now,	this	plays	out	in	various	ways.	Gulu	is	very	accessible	to	outsiders	in	the	sense	thatwe	have	many	home	comforts	–	pizza	delivery,	just-about-adequate	broadband,	friendly	and	hospitable	local	English-speakers	and	a	largely	secure	environment	for	anyone	with	even	as	much	money	as	a	poor	Western	student.Consequently	it	has	long	been	a	popular	place	for	people	to	come	to	study	issues	connected	to	that	most	exotic	ofAfrican	happenings,	the	Lord’s	Resistance	Army	(LRA)	war:	where	a	bizarre	cult	led	by	a	wizard	waged	a	hideouslybrutal	war	for	20	years	against	both	civilians	and	a	powerful	state	army	using	kidnapped	children	as	its	troops.Africa at LSE: Truth, Evidence and Proof in the realm of the unseen. Part I Page 1 of 3		Date originally posted: 2018-11-23Permalink: http://blogs.lse.ac.uk/africaatlse/2018/11/23/truth-evidence-and-proof-in-the-realm-of-the-unseen-part-i/Blog homepage: http://blogs.lse.ac.uk/africaatlse/Image	credit:	Students	4	Best	EvidenceIn	many	ways	the	war	remains	fascinating,	and	despite	the	massive	extent	to	which	it	has	been	researched	there	isstill	much	to	learn,	in	particular	about	and	from	the	world’s	humanitarian	response.	This	is	the	theme	of	the	LSE’sTrajectories	of	Displacement	project.	The	LRA	conflict	generated	one	of	the	world’s	most	comprehensive	and	long-term	displacements	of	a	whole	population,	and	the	international	response	to	it,	and	to	the	process	of	return	when	thewar	ended,	has	implications	for	humanitarian	interventions	everywhere.	On-going	research	projects	under	the	grantinclude	asking	why	reintegration	of	former	combatants	and	children	born	in	captivity	often	failed,	why	stigmatisationof	former	LRA	persists,	and	how	recruitment	of	LRA	into	the	government	army	has	played	out.	Just	starting	areprojects	examining	the	legacy	of	post-conflict	international	interventions	on	justice	systems	(including	TransitionalJustice),	on	psychological	damage	and	injury,	on	poverty,	on	land	conflict,	on	community	reconciliation	and	more.The	research	is	perhaps	underpinned	by	a	perception	that	there	are	useful,	indeed	essential,	ways	of	understandingdifference	as	well	as	problematic	ones.	‘Off	the	peg’	international	humanitarianism	in	a	globalised	neo-liberal	worldworks	on	assumptions	of	sameness:	that,	to	use	an	actual	example,	a	UN	programme	assisting	female	headedhouseholds	through	agricultural	education	in	Sri	Lanka	can	work	in	pretty	much	exactly	the	same	way	in	northernUganda.	There	are	economists	who	regard	this	as	self-evident,	and	anthropologists	who	find	it	simply	wrong;	theTrajectories	of	Displacement	project	hopes	to	add	some	empirical	if	largely	ethnographic	grist	to	such	arguments.In	the	example	above,	in	the	particular	Ugandan	cultural	and	linguistic	context	where	the	project	was	to	beimplemented,	the	concept	of	a	female	head	of	household	indicates	not	the	intended	vulnerable	young	womenstruggling	to	raise	their	children	alone,	but	powerful	matriarchs	of	large	extended	families.	Very	few	people	under	50here	remain	single	for	long,	but	the	presence	of	a	man	in	the	family	may	be	an	asset	or	a	liability	depending	onfactors	such	as	whether	they	are	traditionally	married,	whether	he	has	other	wives,	whether	he	is	the	father	of	all	thechildren,	and	whether	he	has	and	provides	access	to	land	for	subsistence.Notwithstanding	such	examples	of	the	need	to	champion	the	significance	of	cultural	differences	in	designinghumanitarian	interventions,	the	notion	remains	problematic.	Northern	Uganda	is	a	good	place	to	observe	this.	In	thepart	of	Gulu	where	I	live,	bad	things	happen	that	don’t,	typically,	in	the	UK.	People	die	at	a	phenomenal	rate	frommurder,	road	accidents,	disease	and	even	hunger;	there	is	a	lot	of	witchcraft	and	fear	of	witchcraft;	there	aregrotesque	manifestations	of	corruption	in	public	services	–	especially	the	justice,	law	and	order	sector,	from	which,	inthe	local	idiom,	one	may	‘buy	law’;	there	have	been	at	least	two	lynchings	of	thieves	in	my	parish	of	a	few	thousandpeople	in	the	last	year.	But	these	may	or	may	not	be	manifestations	of	culture	–	rather	it	might	be	poverty	andcircumstances:	if	you	took	away	the	rule	of	law,	all	public	services	and	most	of	the	economy	from,	say,	Surrey,	youmight	well	observe	some	or	all	of	these	sorts	of	things	there	as	well.	I	have	neighbours	who	survive,	just,	through	thelabour	of	small	children	and	from	gathering	wild	plants.	Healthcare	and	schooling	are	out	of	the	question.	The	risk	ofone’s	children	or	oneself	dying	from	easily	treatable	malaria	is	very	high.	This	is	not	a	dramatic	event	–	you	don’t	seemass	starvation	in	the	form	of	skeletal	bodies.	Rather	it	is	that	a	great	many	people	die	through	malnutrition	andpoverty-induced	vulnerability	in	childhood	and	young	adulthood.So	whatever	else	it	may	have	done,	the	international	post-conflict	intervention	in	northern	Uganda	has	not	eliminatedwidespread	extreme	poverty.	It	has	not,	as	considered	in	the	notion	of	biopolitics	put	forward	by	Michel	Foucault	andadvanced	by	Tania	Murray	Li,	made	live,	rather	than	let	die.	We	hope	our	research	will	throw	light	on	whetherinterventions	could	have	been	done	more	effectively	or	the	money	spent	better.	Find	out	more	about	the	Politics	of	Return		and	our	Trajectories	of	Displacement	research	projects,	whichare	based	at	the	Firoz	Lalji	Centre	for	Africa	and	funded	by	ESRC/AHRC.	Julian	Hopwood	has	been	based	in	Northern	Uganda	since	2006,	and	currently	works	on	or	provides	support	to	anumber	of	FLCA	projects	taking	place	there.	Africa at LSE: Truth, Evidence and Proof in the realm of the unseen. Part I Page 2 of 3		Date originally posted: 2018-11-23Permalink: http://blogs.lse.ac.uk/africaatlse/2018/11/23/truth-evidence-and-proof-in-the-realm-of-the-unseen-part-i/Blog homepage: http://blogs.lse.ac.uk/africaatlse/The	views	expressed	in	this	post	are	those	of	the	author	and	in	no	way	reflect	those	of	the	Africa	at	LSEblog,	the	Firoz	Lalji	Centre	for	Africa	or	the	London	School	of	Economics	and	Political	Science.	Africa at LSE: Truth, Evidence and Proof in the realm of the unseen. Part I Page 3 of 3		Date originally posted: 2018-11-23Permalink: http://blogs.lse.ac.uk/africaatlse/2018/11/23/truth-evidence-and-proof-in-the-realm-of-the-unseen-part-i/Blog homepage: http://blogs.lse.ac.uk/africaatlse/

Truth, evidence and proof in the realm of the unseen. Part I

Truth,	Evidence	and	Proof	in	the	realm	of	the	unseen.Part	2Julian	Hopwood	reflects	in	this	2	part	series	blog	on	matters	of	evidence	in	both	the	Ugandan	justice	system	and	inpopular	understandings	of	witchcraft.Thinking	about	witchcraft	tends	to	lead	to	consideration	of	notions	of	what	counts	as	evidence.	Othering	can	functionthrough	the	idea	that	the	West	deals	in	scientific	empirical	evidence,	whether	on	crime	or	medicine	or	whatever,whereas	in	Africa	we	are	mired	in	superstition	–	witchcraft	is	proof	of	this:	it	is	not	real,	therefore	it	is	impossible	thatempirical	evidence	for	it	exists.I	have	been	inspired	to	write	this	having	recently	heard	the	disturbing	news	that	Okello	Jason	(all	names	changed),the	brother	of	a	friend	of	mine,	has	just	been	sentenced	to	five	years	imprisonment	for	fraud,	on	top	of	two	years	hehas	already	spent	on	remand,	on	the	strength	of	nothing	that	would	count	as	reliable	evidence	in	a	UK	court.	This	isJason’s	story	in	his	own	words:On	28th	May	2016	I	went	to	collect	my	salary	from	my	employer	at	A***	restaurant	at	4:00pm.	The	proprietor	of	thebusiness,	an	Indian	man,	refused	to	pay	my	salary	claiming	that	during	that	month	I	did	not	work	for	one	week.	I	hadnot	been	paid	even	in	the	previous	month	of	April	making	it	two	months	in	arrears.	The	one	week	my	boss	claims	thatI	didn’t	work	was	when	I	fell	sick	and	even	reported	to	him	that	I’m	not	feeling	well	and	would	get	back	to	work	whenmy	condition	improves.	I	then	came	back	after	a	week	and	continued	with	work	normally	because	I	was	feelingbetter.	When	the	month	ended,	I	then	asked	for	my	salary	since	it	had	accumulated	for	two	months	but	my	bossrefused	to	pay	me	saying	that	I	missed	work	during	that	month	and	his	policy	says	when	someone	misses	workduring	the	course	of	the	month,	he	or	she	is	not	entitled	to	salary	for	that	month.	I	was	so	annoyed	with	this	andthreatened	to	report	him	to	the	labour	office.	On	hearing	that,	he	became	annoyed	and	wanted	to	fight	me	but	Ibacked	off	and	then	left	the	restaurant	to	go	home	to	avoid	a	fight.	He	then	called	me	that	evening	and	asked	me	toreturn	to	the	restaurant	and	pick	my	money,	but	only	if	I	had	not	yet	reported	him	to	the	labour	office.	I	then	took	myaunt’s	motor	cycle	and	went	back	to	the	restaurant	and	on	reaching	there,	I	found	another	two	men	and	two	womensitting	together	with	the	boss	and	one	woman	asked	my	boss	if	that	is	this	the	boy?	The	boss	answered	yes	then	thewoman	introduced	herself	to	me	as	a	police	officer	in-charge	of	L*****	police	station	and	she	asked	if	I	am	‘Olanya’and	I	said	no,	my	name	is	Okello	Jason	and	I	even	showed	her	my	identity	card.	She	then	said	it	could	be	that	I	wasusing	the	name	Olanya	to	con	money	when	my	real	name	is	not	Olanya.	She	said	she	is	arresting	me	for	conningmoney.	She	came	with	one	Nancy	who	claims	I	conned	the	money	from	her	and	they	were	looking	for	me.	A	certainwitchdoctor	called	Jennifer	claims	Nancy	collected	the	money	from	her	to	the	tune	of	14.7	million	shillings	[about£7,000]	to	give	to	an	Indian	called	Sunil	to	purchase	for	her	a	second-hand	lorry	and	she	didn’t	get	the	truck.	Nancysaid	she	gave	the	money	to	me	to	confirm	and	I	handed	the	money	to	Sunil	after	confirming.	She	went	on	to	say	thatI	was	helping	to	coordinate	them	since	she	cannot	speak	English.	She	also	said	this	transaction	was	not	writtendown	in	form	of	any	agreement.Jason	claims	Nancy’s	statement	is	completely	untrue	and	that	he	had	never	before	met	Nancy,	Sunil	or	Jenifer.	Theonly	witness	against	him	is	Nancy.	She	was	the	prime	suspect,	accused	by	Jennifer	of	taking	the	money	for	thetruck,	arrested	at	the	same	time	as	Jason,	but	quickly	released.	However	she	is	now	back	in	prison	accused	of	adifferent	fraud.	Sunil	was	arrested	at	the	same	time	as	Jason	but	released	almost	immediately.	Jenifer’s	accusationis	exclusively	against	Nancy	–	she	has	said	she	knows	nothing	of	Jason	or	Sunil.	There	is	no	evidence	against	Jasonbeyond	Nancy’s	testimony.Africa at LSE: Truth, Evidence and Proof in the realm of the unseen. Part 2 Page 1 of 3		Date originally posted: 2018-11-30Permalink: http://blogs.lse.ac.uk/africaatlse/2018/11/30/truth-evidence-and-proof-in-the-realm-of-the-unseen-part-2/Blog homepage: http://blogs.lse.ac.uk/africaatlse/Image	credit:	PIXABAYOn	the	day	of	Jason’s	last	hearing	there	were	five	other	cases	in	Gulu	Magistrates	Court:	two	of	arson	and	three	ofdefilement.	All	the	other	defendants	apart	from	Jason	(25)	were	young	men	under	twenty.	Defilement	is	where	a	manor	boy	has	sex	with	a	girl	under	18.	The	defilement	law	was	supposed	to	function	as	a	way	to	halt	child	marriage	andexploitative	intergenerational	relationships,	in	particular	school	teachers	demanding	sexual	favours	from	theirstudents	in	exchange	for	good	marks.	In	practice	it	generally	works	differently.	Two	of	the	cases	involved	boys	whowere	themselves	under	18	who	had	been	in	consensual	relationships	with	their	same-age	girlfriends	–	no	one	wasdisputing	this.	They	were	in	court	because	the	girls’	families	didn’t	approve	of	the	relationships,	or	because	the	boyhad	not	paid	‘brideprice’,	though	in	these	circumstances	it	works	more	like	blackmail.	In	the	third	case	it	seemedunlikely	that	the	girl	was	under	18	(no	evidence	of	any	of	the	girls’	ages	was	offered).	In	all	the	defilement	cases	asingle	witness	was	called.	In	one	arson	case	there	were	two,	while	in	Jason’s	and	the	other	arson	case,	there	wereno	witnesses	at	all.	No	other	evidence	was	presented.	No	police	were	called.	The	witnesses	gave	very	brief	and	farfrom	convincing	testimony,	inconsistent,	inarticulate	and	confused,	in	response	to	questions	from	the	prosecutor	orthe	defence	lawyer,	neither	of	whom	seemed	to	know	much	about	the	cases	–	they	had	perhaps	skimmed	the	filesthat	morning.	The	efforts	of	the	defence	lawyer	were	minimalist,	failing	to	draw	attention	to	the	obvious	weaknessesin	the	cases	against	the	accused	boys.	In	two	cases,	witnesses	contradicted	the	original	statements	they	had	madeto	police	on	key	issues.One	of	the	alleged	arsonists	seemed	likely	to	be	guilty	as	charged	–	he	had	apparently	deliberately	set	fire	to	hisgrandmother’s	hut	while	drunk,	infuriated	by	the	grandmother’s	refusal	to	help	his	sister.	In	the	other	case	there	wasno	evidence	beyond	a	written	statement	by	a	supposed	witness	and	a	confession	by	the	boy	that	he	said	had	beenbeaten	out	of	him,	and	I’d	have	bet	much	on	his	innocence.	It	is	common	to	accuse	the	children	or	grandchildren	ofpeople	you	don’t	like	of	crimes.	A	small	payment	–	£5-10	perhaps	–	to	the	police	can	ensure	someone	is	locked	upfor	a	long	time.	The	accused	said	he	was	16	but	looked	younger.	While	no	finding	of	innocence	or	guilt	wasannounced	by	the	magistrate,	all	the	cases	were	adjourned;	none	were	dismissed	for	lack	of	evidence.	Two	weekslater	Jason	was	sentenced	to	what	will	be	a	total	of	seven	years	imprisonment.It	can	be	tempting	to	see	the	cruel	injustices	of	the	northern	Ugandan	courts	as	demonstrating	African	difference	anddysfunction.	Yet	it	is	worth	thinking	about	them	in	the	context	of	the	contemporary	West.	Through	the	#me	toomovement,	Western	notions	of	justice	are	struggling	with	matters	where	often	the	only	evidence	of	crime	ormisconduct	is	the	word	of	the	victim.	The	function	of	notions	such	as	truth,	evidence	and	proof	in	public	life	are	all	inquestion.	On-line	mobs	make	death	threats	which	sometimes	turn	into	actual	violence	–	often	not	merely	withoutevidence	but	in	the	face	of	evidence.	These	things	happen	in	contexts	where	most	people	have	studied	somescience	at	secondary	school	level,	and	where	there	are	vast	resources	available	for	finding	evidence	of	crimes.Africa at LSE: Truth, Evidence and Proof in the realm of the unseen. Part 2 Page 2 of 3		Date originally posted: 2018-11-30Permalink: http://blogs.lse.ac.uk/africaatlse/2018/11/30/truth-evidence-and-proof-in-the-realm-of-the-unseen-part-2/Blog homepage: http://blogs.lse.ac.uk/africaatlse/It	is	an	interesting	if	disturbing	experience	watching	‘justice’	being	administered	in	the	absence	of	empirical	evidence.There	are	several	dynamics	at	play.	The	justice	system	has	been	commercialised	in	the	sense	that	police,	prisonstaff	and	court	personnel	make	the	bulk	of	their	incomes	from	charging	to	release	people	from	custody,	and	to	alesser	extent	charging	to	arrest	and	prosecute	people	–	my	guess	based	on	observation	of	a	number	of	such	casesis	that	Jason’s	employer	(see	part	2	of	this	series)	paid	the	police	to	arrest	him	and	they	randomly	added	him	into	acase	already	underway.	To	work,	the	justice	market	seems	to	depend	on	a	presumption	of	everyone	accused	beingguilty	–	people	have	to	expect	to	spend	a	long	time	in	prison	whether	or	not	they	did	anything	wrong	if	they	are	goingto	part	with	what	are	for	them	and	their	families	the	huge	sums	involved.	The	cost	for	a	charge	of	raping	a	child	to	bedropped,	evidence	based	or	not,	is	around	£200	in	a	context	where	a	security	guard,	for	example,	is	paid	around	£25per	month	and	a	teacher	at	a	government	school	around	£60.Corruption	in	public	services	in	Uganda	is	pretty	much	a	given,	but	arises	in	a	context	–	often	one	in	which	legitimatefunctioning	of	the	service	is	not	possible.	What	is	a	justice	system	meant	to	do	in	a	situation	where	good	evidence,anything	that	might	amount	to	proof,	is	unavailable?	The	police	genuinely	have	no	resources	to	investigate	crimes	–typically	you	have	to	pay	their	travel	costs	to	get	them	to	leave	the	station	because	there	is	no	budget	for	this.Records,	from	birth	certificates	to	land	titles,	tend	to	have	either	never	existed	or	been	lost	or	burnt	–	hut	fires	areextremely	common	whether	deliberately	set	or	not.	Most	financial	transactions	are	in	cash.	Many	people	are	so	poor,and	consequences	are	so	unlikely,	that	testimony	can	be	cheaply	bought.I	wonder	if	the	logic	consequent	on	this	inevitable	weakness	or	absence	of	evidence	is	not	something	a	bit	likeFoucault’s	description	of	18th	Century	justice	in	France:…	[I]t	was	not	enough	to	say	that	a	full,	whole,	and	complete	proof	must	be	reached	in	order	to	fix	a	punishment.Rather,	classical	law	said:	If	the	sum	does	not	add	up	to	that	minimum	degree	of	proof	on	the	basis	of	which	the	fulland	entire	penalty	can	be	applied,	if	the	addition	remains	in	some	way	uncertain,	if	there	is	simply	three-quartersproof	and	not	a	full	proof	in	the	total	sum,	nevertheless	this	does	not	mean	that	one	should	not	punish.	To	a	three-quarters	proof	corresponds	a	three-quarters	penalty,	to	a	semi	proof,	a	semi	penalty.	In	other	words,	one	is	notsuspected	with	impunity.	The	least	element	of	proof,	or,	in	any	case,	a	certain	element	of	proof,	will	be	enough	toentail	a	certain	element	of	penalty.If	a	probability	of	demonstrating	guilt	beyond	reasonable	doubt	was	required	for	a	prosecution,	and	full	or	evensubstantial	proof	of	guilt	required	for	conviction	by	the	Gulu	magistrates,	and,	then	they	would	rarely	hear	cases	andeven	more	rarely	hand	out	punishment.	Even	the	form	of	justice	would	disappear.	Find	out	more	about	the	Politics	of	Return		and	our	Trajectories	of	Displacement	research	projects,	whichare	based	at	the	Firoz	Lalji	Centre	for	Africa	and	funded	by	ESRC/AHRC.Julian	Hopwood	has	been	based	in	Northern	Uganda	since	2006,	and	currently	works	on	or	provides	support	to	anumber	of	FLCA	projects	taking	place	there.The	views	expressed	in	this	post	are	those	of	the	author	and	in	no	way	reflect	those	of	the	Africa	at	LSEblog,	the	Firoz	Lalji	Centre	for	Africa	or	the	London	School	of	Economics	and	Political	Science.Africa at LSE: Truth, Evidence and Proof in the realm of the unseen. Part 2 Page 3 of 3		Date originally posted: 2018-11-30Permalink: http://blogs.lse.ac.uk/africaatlse/2018/11/30/truth-evidence-and-proof-in-the-realm-of-the-unseen-part-2/Blog homepage: http://blogs.lse.ac.uk/africaatlse/

Truth, evidence and proof in the realm of the unseen. Part 2

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Truth, evidence and proof in the realm of the unseen. Part I

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