Overzealous State officials out to kill artistic freedom with bad laws

Kenyan director Wanuri Kahiu, actresses Samantha Mugatsia and Sheila Munyiva pose on May 9, 2018 during a photocall for the film "Rafiki" at the 71st edition of the Cannes Film Festival in Cannes, southern France. PHOTO | LOIC VENANCE | AFP

What you need to know:

  • By banning the film Rafiki, the board reintroduced censorship in a nation with an expansive Bill of Rights and other guarantees.
  • The decision to limit the use of online platforms through licensing and censorship are an affront to the rights of content creators to access technologies for income generation and information sharing.

The creative industry in Kenya is seeking the space to enjoy artistic freedom by expressing it through different linguistic forms and to capture changes in politics, economics, religion, technology and social relationships.

But it is currently under siege from public officers who, in their zeal to advance their singular interpretation of the ‘good life’, are undermining not just our right to freely express ourselves artistically but also the right to imagine another world.

The Kenya Film Classification Board (KFCB) has drawn daggers and aimed them at those who seek to capture the human condition in its complexity and potential to emancipate individuals and communities. By banning the film Rafiki (‘Friend’), ostensibly because the producer did not change the script as guided by the regulator, the board reintroduced censorship in a nation with an expansive Bill of Rights and other guarantees. It has dared the creative sector to defend its terrain.

Moreover, the decision to limit the use of online platforms through licensing and censorship are an affront to the rights of content creators to access technologies for income generation and information sharing.

ARTISTIC FREEDOM

Although artistic freedom is specifically protected by the Constitution under Article 33(1b), the continued invocation of the Film and Stage Plays Act by the Kenya Film Classification Board is a threat to the creative industry. The urge to limit the imagination of artists is ill-conceived, draconian, archaic and detrimental to the reforms envisaged by the Constitution of Kenya. For artistic freedom to be realised, the Film and Stage Plays Act must be repealed and brought on its knees without further delay. It has become an ogre and is on the prowl.

The perspective taken by KFCB over the last two years can only be understood through the eyes of Frantz Fanon in The Wretched of the Earth. In this seminal work, Fanon is particularly critical of a national bourgeoisie that is not engaged in production, invention or labour; all of which are vital for the advancement of society. Instead, having claimed governmental positions, they spend most of their time catering for their immediate interests rather than provision of services. In their arrogance and misdirected sense of importance, they look down on the people they are supposed to serve.

Fanon asserts that these inheritors of the colonial State and its instruments of oppression use their positions to perpetuate the self-serving ideologies of a patriarchal tradition in order to maintain existing structures of exclusion. They are a shadow of the colonial State and its pernicious effects.

To undermine the arts and cultures, KFCB is propelled by a legislation assented to in 1962, before Kenya attained independence. This Act has been kept in the statutes for activation whenever the creative sector challenges political or economic power. It should be annulled and rendered nugatory.  It is a threat to the livelihoods of people who depend on the arts to feed their families and undermines our right to imagine another future. The act of censorship is political and works to serve the status quo and to suppress social change.

We know that there is inherently a human desire for freedom and autonomy. Overt agreement does not imply absence of negation and resistance. Once surveillance is withdrawn, resistance becomes quite manifest.

VISUAL ARTS

In the colonial era, practitioners in the creative sector challenged the excesses of colonialism through public performances of music, drama, oral narratives and visual arts. They created stories in their communities and used what the political scientist, James Scott, refers to as ‘arts of resistance’.

Through reversal and ironic twists, Christian melodies were appropriated and used inter-textually to speak to the liberation struggle. The disillusionment with post-independence and the nationalist agenda was captured in literature, music and visual arts. This is because art and politics are inextricably intertwined.

Indeed, some of the most compelling works of art are a consequence of intense socio-political contradictions in society. This interaction often causes much anxiety among the political elite and their agents. In cases where artists activate a well-deserved radical political aesthetic, their works are either banned or censored or the authors exiled. This is what is happening to Rafiki as we start seeing traces of authoritarianism.

Let us revisit, for a moment, the creative space of the 1970s. At the time, the University of Nairobi Free Travelling Theatre toured the country and challenged the political and economic choices that were being made by the post-independence regime. Betrayal in the City by Francis Imbuga and The Trial of Dedan Kimathi by Micere Mugo and Ngugi wa Thiong’o were performed at the Kenya National Theatre (KNT) and in many other performance spaces amid much controversy about the ability of KNT to advance Kenyan creativity. After all, the National Theatre was opened in 1952 under a colonial management. Between 1952 and 1958, the theatre served to entertain and boost the morale of the British soldiers who had come to suppress the liberation struggle. Instructively,  the Kenya Cultural Theatre Act of 1952, which set up this space, is still intact, over six decades later.

It is because of the clamour for artistic freedom that Ngaahika Ndeenda (‘I Will Marry When I Want’) by Ngugi wa Thiong’o and Ngugi wa Mirii was banned in 1978, the writer detained and the Kamirithu Cultural Centre destroyed. It is also why the poet Abdilatif Abdalla, author of Sauti ya Dhiki (Voice of Agony), was imprisoned after publishing and distributing the pamphlet Kenya Twendapi? (‘Kenya: where are we heading?’). Whenever the works of authors are censured by the State, citizens ought to be extremely concerned.

OPEN YOUR EYES

Progressive Kenyan film makers, such as Wanuri Kahiu, use the medium as a language to fulfil an emancipatory function in our society. They are urging us to open our eyes to the myriad realities around us. In her films, such as From a Whisper (on violent extremism), Pumzi (on climate change), Rafiki (on love and relationships) — Wanuri  promotes freedom, social justice and human dignity. She uses the oral, visual and performative language of film to articulate the complexities of our society and to urge for inclusion, equality and empathy in our understanding of the world.

Artistic freedom is core to inclusive development and the pursuit of social justice. It not only contributes to transforming our view of society but also the projection of a new world driven by the principles of democracy, justice, equity and fairness.

Architecture, sculpture, film, music, performing arts and literature can be marshalled to capture the image of our society and to suggest possible ways of elevating it to greater heights. Artistic works can also shape the identity of Kenya, currently viewed through incidental and sporadic profiling of athletes, ‘nyama choma’, the ‘matatu’ culture and wildlife.

But there is another function of art that is even more crucial; its ability to initiate changes in the thinking of people about political, economic, social and cultural life. In their works, artists draw attention to the need for change by raising the consciousness of a community to problems that are detrimental to its health and well-being. When artists use their imagination to question the behaviour of leaders, they are driven by the commitment to have a better world.

Understandably, not all artists use their works for social change. Some commit their imagination in the creation of autonomous works for the celebration of art itself. This ‘art for its own sake’ approach is occasionally criticised for its non-involvement in social transformation. It is, however, legitimate and enriches our interpretative capacity. In its aesthetic depth, it forces us to pay attention to our world and to enjoy it.

Oppressive conditions

Other artists can, consciously or unconsciously, reinforce existing oppressive conditions and inhibit social change. The portrayal of authorisation and oppression of people as permanent and stable and the celebration of inequality and discrimination in society by certain artists could undermine the pursuit of freedom.

All these representations of society are part of artistic freedom. The State, in its oppressive pose, often seeks to limit artistic freedom that is geared at social change. It is in this context that the activities of KCFB ought to be understood.

In contrast, the transformative agenda in the Constitution of Kenya points to the potential of artistic freedom and that is why it is specifically mentioned in the supreme law. It must not be lost through an overzealous State agency.

 

Prof Njogu is the chairman of the Creative Economy Working Group. [email protected]