Clemens Greiner; clemens.greiner@uni-koeln.de; preprint version, forthcoming in
African Affairs
GUNS, LAND AND VOTES: CATTLE RUSTLING AND THE POLITICS OF
BOUNDARY-(RE)MAKING IN NORTHERN KENYA*
ABSTRACT
Livestock raiding among Northern Kenya’s pastoralists has changed profoundly in the last
decades. Fought out extremely violent and with modern weaponry, it becomes
increasingly enmeshed in politicized claims over administrative boundaries, struggles for
exclusive access to land, and attempts to establish or safeguard an ethnically
homogenous electoral basis. These conflicts are part of Kenya’s troubled politics of
decentralization and as such they must be viewed in context with the wider political
development in this East African Nation. Based on ethnographic fieldwork in East Pokot
and surrounding areas in Kenya’s Central Rift Valley Province, this article demonstrates
how livestock raiding emerges as a specific form of violent regulation, as a well-adapted,
dangerous and powerful political weapon.
The deadly attack on 42 Kenyan police officers in Suguta Valley, Samburu District in midNovember 2012 sadly reminds us of the ongoing violence in East Africa’s pastoralist areas.
What is likely to be the most deadly attack on police forces in Kenya’s history1 is but ‘a drop
in the ocean’ compared to the daily suffering of the population in these areas, as a
*Clemens Greiner (clemens.greiner@uni-koeln.de) is a postdoctoral researcher at the Department of
Cultural and Social Anthropology, University of Cologne, Germany. This article has benefited
tremendously from the detailed and informed comments of Michael Bollig. I am also indebted to Terry
McCabe, Rita Abrahamsen and Nic Cheeseman and two anonymous reviewers, whose comments
greatly helped improve the article.
1
BBC News Africa, 14 November 2012, <http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-africa-20323962> (21
November 2012).
1
commentator in the Nairobi-based Daily Nations complains in an opinion letter.2 Indisputably,
the persistent violence in the pastoral areas in North-Eastern Africa has detrimental social
and economic effects.3
Although this violence increasingly involves brutal and reckless murder, acts of “ethnic
cleansing”, criminal marketing chains and highway banditry, as well as ordinary petty theft, it
commonly lumped together and labelled as “cattle rustling” or “cattle raiding.” This tends to
encourage the association of more recent violence with timeless, traditional and ritualized
acts of raiding, portraying it as something cultural and thus intrinsic to these societies.4
Increasingly also, cattle raiding is framed in green security debates and portrayed as almost
inevitable reaction to climate change.5 Both approaches de-politicize raiding and tend to
ignore important changes within pastoralist communities and how they relate to the political
developments in Kenya at large.
Pastoralism in East African drylands is undergoing rapid transformations.6 In these
processes, issues of territoriality emerge as main arenas of contestation. Sedentarization,
rapid population growth, fragmentation and privatization of formerly communally used
pastures, the spread of wildlife conservation areas and the increasing importance of
agriculture: all are factors that lead to a growing pressure on land, both within and across
2
Rooben Turgo,‘Police deaths a drop in the ocean compared to villagers killed daily’, Daily Nation
[Nairobi], 13 November 2012, <http://www.nation.co.ke/oped/Letters/Police-deaths-a-drop-in-theocean/-/440806/1619440/-/bk57ix/-/index.html> (21 November 2012).
3
BBC News Africa, 14 November 2012, <http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-africa-20323962> (21
November 2012).
3
Dylan Hendrickson, Jeremy Armon, and Robin Mearns, ‘The changing nature of conflict and famine
vulnerability: The case of livestock raiding in Turkana District, Kenya’, Disasters 22, 3 (1998), pp. 185–
199; Sandra Gray et al., ‘Cattle raiding, cultural survival, and adaptability of East African pastoralists’,
Current Anthropology, 44, S5 (2003), pp. S3–S30; J. Terrence McCabe, Cattle Bring Us to Our
Enemies: Turkana ecology, politics, and raiding in a disequilibrium system (University of Michigan
Press, Ann Arbor, 2004).
4
Bilinda Straight, ‘Making sense of violence in the “badlands” of Kenya’, Anthropology & Humanism
34, 1 (2009), pp. 21–30.
5
Janpeter Schilling, et al. ‘On arms and adaptation: Climate change and pastoral conflict in Northern
Kenya’ (Working Paper CLIMSEC 15, Research Group Climate Change and Security, University of
Hamburg, 2011).
6
Elliot Fratkin, ‘East African Pastoralism in Transition: Maasai, Boran, and Rendille Cases’, African
Studies Review, 44, 3 (2001), 1-25.
2
communities.7 The erosion of traditional governance structures has led to a power vacuum
that is increasingly filled by political leaders and other power-brokers, who grasp the
opportunity to re-negotiate boundaries and access to land. They have realized that on the
national level ethnic mobilization has played a major role in political struggles, and they carry
these dynamics even into the remotest pastoralist areas, where the struggle for land is
progressively ethnicized.8 In this context, livestock raiding emerges as a specific form of
violent regulation: a well-adapted, dangerous and powerful political weapon.
This article demonstrates, that the patterns of “cattle raiding” in Northern Kenya have been
enmeshed in politicized claims over administrative boundaries, struggles for exclusive
access to land, and even attempts to establish or safeguard an ethnically homogenous
electoral basis. Although the links between raiders and politicians often remain obscure, I
argue that violence in pastoralist areas is intimately linked to recent political developments in
Kenya at large. Processes of democratization – particularly the re-establishment of multipartyism in 1992 and the end of Moi-regime in 2002, but also the post-election violence of
2007/8 and the current political and administrative re-structuring of the country, as well as
ongoing land-reforms – have created windows of opportunity for violent (re-)negotiatings of
territorial claims in the pastoralist areas in Kenya’s arid north.9
The remainder of this article starts by highlighting traditional and more recent scholarly
interpretations of cattle raiding. This is followed by an account of how pastoralists became
increasingly enmeshed in politicized violence and show how this relates to Kenya’s troubled
national politics. In the main part of this article, I start with focussing on the conflict dynamics
along the borders of East Pokot, which then leads me to and exploration of the central role of
administrative boundaries and the politics of devolution within these conflicts. I then offer a
7
Kathleen A. Galvin, ‘Transitions: pastoralists living with change’, Annual Review of Anthropology 38
(2009), pp. 185–198; Carolyn K. Lesorogol, Contesting the commons: privatizing pastoral lands in
Kenya (University of Michigan Press, Ann Arbor, 2008).
8
Günther Schlee, ‘Territorialising ethnicity: The political ecology of pastoralism in Northern Kenya and
Southern Ethiopia’ (Max Planck Institute for Social Anthropology Working Papers, Working paper 121,
Halle / Saale, 2010).
9
Saafo Roba Boye and Randi Kaarhus, ‘Competing claims and contested boundaries: Legitimating
land rights in Isiolo District, Northern Kenya’, Africa Spectrum 46, 2 (2011), pp. 99–124.
3
first slice of analysis how the practice of cattle raiding is connected to political aspirations and
end with drawing some conclusions toward a political interpretation of cattle raiding.
This contribution is based on ethnographic data from East Pokot, Kenya. In addition to
formal interviews with community elders, chiefs, district officers, politicians, peace committee
members, administration police officers and government officials, the article relies on
information provided in informal talks, due in large part to the sensitivity of the issue. Despite
a one-year presence in the area, I was often treated with suspicion once the issue of politics
and raiding turned up. Most conversations – not only with warriors involved in cattle raiding,
but also with community members, government officials or politicians willing to talk about the
nexus of politics and violence – were conducted under a guarantee of anonymity.
Culture, nature and commerce: established interpretations of cattle rustling
Warfare and cattle rustling among pastoralists in the arid and semi-arid areas of NorthEastern Africa dates back well into pre-colonial times.10 Before the advent of colonialism, the
reason for such activities was mainly ascribed to the territorial expansion of specialized
pastoralist groups, such as the Maasai, the Nuer, the Pokot and the Turkana. By entrenching
ethnic boundaries, the colonial governments inhibited their further territorial expansion.11
Cattle raiding, however, continued.12 After independence, it regained importance, and
intensified with the spread of modern firearms from the mid-1970s onwards.13 A broad range
10
E.g. John Lamphear, ‘The People of the Grey Bull: the origin and expansion of the Turkana’, The
Journal of African History 29, Special Issue 1 (1988), pp. 27-39.
11
Richard Waller, ‘Ecology, migration, and expansion in East Africa’, African Affairs 84, 336 (1985),
pp. 347–370. John G., ‘Maasai expansion & the new East African pastoralism’, in Thomas Spear and
Richard Waller (eds.), Being Maasai. Ethnicity & Identity in East Africa, (James Currey, London,
1993), pp. 61–86; Douglas H. Johnson, ‘Tribal boundaries and border wars: Nuer–Dinka relations in
the Sobat and Zaraf Valleys, c. 1860–1976’, The Journal of African History 23, 2 (1982), pp. 183–203;
McCabe, Cattle Bring Us to Our Enemies. Michael Bollig, Risk Management in a Hazardous
Environment. A comparative study of two pastoral societies, (Springer, New York, 2006).
12
David Anderson, ‘Stock theft and moral economy in colonial Kenya’, Africa: Journal of the
International African Institute 56, 4 (1986), pp. 399–416. It should also be mentioned here that,
particularly along the boundary between Kenya and Ethiopia, raiding has been repeatedly embroiled in
international politics since the 1890s, see: McCabe, Cattle Bring Us to Our Enemies: 98f
13
Katsuyoshi Fukui and John Markakis, ‘Introduction’, in Katsuyoshi Fukui and John Markakis (eds.),
Ethnicity & Conflict in the Horn of Africa, (James Currey, London, 1994), pp. 1–11.
4
of explanations have since been offered for both the persistence and the changing nature of
raiding.
In the 1970s, analysis frequently focused on either cultural or ecological variables in
explaining the persistence of cattle raiding among East African herders. Authors who argued
for the importance of cultural factors associated raiding with the traditional social structures
of pastoralist societies, and identified belief systems, identities, warrior ideals, prestige and
competition between age sets as drivers of violence.14 In a more recent contribution, Sandra
Gray and colleagues portray raiding as a maladaptive cultural institution in which the value of
cattle is placed above that of human beings. They argue that in attempting to preserve their
cultural identity, pastoralists undermine their biological survival.15
Authors who emphasize ecological, rather than cultural factors as root causes of livestock
theft can be roughly split in two strands of arguments. One strand holds that the pastoralist
areas are characterized by scarcity of pasture and water and that the struggle for temporary
access to these resources leads to conflict.16 The other, rooted in non-equilibrium
ecosystems approaches, highlights the necessity of recuperation of livestock numbers after
drought- or disease-induced losses as a motivation for raiding.17 It is particularly the
proponents of the ecological approach that are responsible for the textbook-like doctrine that
‘territorial conquest does not appear to be the objective of fighting.’18
Since the 1990s, researchers have emphasized the changing nature of cattle rustling.19
Attempts to explain this have pointed particularly to the increased proliferation of
sophisticated automatic rifles such as the AK-47.20 Authors working with data from the 1990s
14
See many contributions in Katsuyoshi Fukui and David Turton (eds.), Warfare among East African
Herders, Senri Ethnological Studies (Osaka, National Museum of Ethnology, 1979).
15
Gray et al., ‘Cattle raiding, cultural survival, and adaptability of East African pastoralists’.
16
John Markakis, Resource conflict in the Horn of Africa (London, Sage, 1998).
17
Camilla Toulmin, ‘Tracking through drought: Options for Destocking and Restocking’, in Ian
Scoones (ed.) Living with Uncertainty: New directions in pastoral development in Africa (London,
Intermediate Technology Publications, 1994), pp. 95-115.
18
Rada Dyson-Hudson and Neville Dyson-Hudson, ‘Nomadic pastoralism’, Annual Review of
Anthropology 9 (1980), pp. 15–61: 46.
19
Hendrickson, Armon, and Mearns, ‘The changing nature of conflict and famine vulnerability’
20
Kennedy A. Mkutu, Guns & Governance in the Rift Valley: Pastoralist conflict & small arms, (Oxford,
James Currey, 2008); McCabe, Cattle Bring Us to Our Enemies: 100f.
5
add to this another dynamic: the professionalized marketing of stolen animals. While in
previous decades the stolen livestock was redistributed or used to pay bride prices, rustling
has more recently turned into a form of organized crime.21 This involves the
commercialization of stolen animals, and includes actors from outside the pastoralist system.
Dylan Hendrickson and colleagues describe this as a shift from ‘redistributive raiding’ to
‘predatory raiding.’22
More recently, issues of climate change and environmental security have entered the
debate on raiding and warfare in Africa’s arid and semi-arid areas. While some see
population pressure, climate change and resource scarcity as the fundamental triggers of
inter-ethnic violence,23 many empirically-based studies have rejected these Malthusian
notions, claiming that institutions and political calculations are decisive in directing people’s
responses to these factors toward either conflict or cooperation.24 Christopher Butler and
Scott Gates, for example, point to a positive correlation between resources and conflict. This,
however, is mediated by political variables, particularly by the degree of state enforcement of
property rights.25 So while much of the recent literature revolves around the question of
whether resource scarcity or political factors trigger inter-ethnic violence, this article sets out
to explore the ways in which political forces shape these conflicts.
The politicization of pastoralist violence
In the early 1990s, clashes started in many Rift Valley Districts with multi-ethnic
populations. Maasai and Kipsigis warriors raided neighbouring Kikuyu, Luhya, Kamba and
21
Michael L. Fleisher, ‘“War is good for thieving!” The symbiosis of crime and warfare among the Kuria
of Tanzania’, Africa: Journal of the International African Institute 72, 1 (2002), pp. 131–149.
22
Hendrickson, Armon, and Mearns, ‘The changing nature of conflict and famine vulnerability’.
23
Jürgen Scheffran et al., ‘Climate change and violent conflict’, Science, 336, (2012), pp. 869-871.
24
Wario R. Adano, et al., ‘Climate change, violent conflict and local institutions in Kenya’s drylands’,
Journal of Peace Research, 49, 1 (2012), pp. 65-80; Ole M. Theisen, ‘Climate clashes? Weather
variability, land pressure, and organized violence in Kenya, 1989-2004’, Journal of Peace Research,
49, 1 (2012), pp. 81-96.
25
Christopher K. Butler and Scott Gates, ‘African range wars: Climate, conflict, and property rights’,
Journal of Peace Research, 49, 1 (2012), pp. 23-34.
6
other farming communities in rural areas like Molo and the Naivasha hinterland.26 The
clashes subsequently spread to Laikipia, where Samburu and Pokot started attacking
Kikuyu, who had settled there as small-scale farmers as a result of the post-independence
land reforms. The clashes in Ol Moran, a small town in Laikipia, escalated in January 1998
when Pokot and Samburu warriors raided Kikuyu farmers, killing two of them, stealing their
livestock and burning down their houses. A counterattack of the Kikuyu farmers on
pastoralist settlements was ambushed by well-armed Pokot and Turkana warriors who killed
39 Kikuyu youth. Shortly thereafter, Pokot and Samburu warriors attacked a Kikuyu
settlement, killed two people and burned down some 25 houses. The Kikuyu did not react
subsequently, and so this incident marks a provisional end to the violence. The report of the
Judicial Commission appointed to inquire into tribal clashes in Kenya (the Akiwumi Report),
concludes that the conflicts between these communities were instigated by ‘unsavoury and
inflammatory statements by politicians.’27 It is noted that the Kikuyu of Ol Moran have
complained of repeated livestock raids before and have received unsigned letters asking
them to leave the area. A Catholic priest interviewed for the Akiwumi Report states that the
violence was instigated by politicians of the Kalenjin faction to clear the area of oppositional
voters with respect to the upcoming elections in 2002.28
This escalation of violence relates to more general shifts in the political landscape that are
part of Kenya’s troubled nation-building process.29 David Anderson describes in detail how
the pressure for multi-partyism in the early 1990s led to the revival of majimboism as
defensive reaction, particularly by Kalenjin and Maasai politicians loyal to President Daniel
Arap Moi, who had been in power since 1978.30 Majimboism, originally intended as a form of
federal regionalism, was turned into a quest for ethnically exclusive territoriality and became
26
The following information is based on ‘Report of the Judicial Commission appointed to inquire into
tribal clashes in Kenya, Part I: Rift Valley’, Daily Nation Special Report, available at
<http://www.hrw.org/sites/default /files/related_material/Akiwumi.Rift Valley.pdf> (19 November 2012).
27
Ibid., p. 12.
28
Michael Njuguna and Watoro Kamau, ‘Catholic priest cites succession scheme in ethnic fighting’,
Daily Nation, 9 February 1999, p. 3.
29
Daniel Branch and Nic Cheeseman, ‘Introduction: Our turn to eat’, in Daniel Branch, et al (eds.), Our
turn to Eat. Politics in Kenya since 1950, (LIT, Berlin, 2010), pp. 23–52.
30
David Anderson, ‘Majimboism: The troubled history of an idea’, in Daniel Branch, et al. (eds.), Our
turn to Eat, pp. 23-52.
7
a vehicle for ethnic mobilization. Political campaigners from the Rift Valley’s pastoralist
groups, who became known under the pseudo-ethnic acronym of KAMATUSA (Kalenjin,
Maasai, Turkana and Samburu), played a central role in pushing the idea. Majimboism was
propagated as an alternative to multi-partyism, which was seen as a threat to KAMASUTA
interests. Within weeks after the first rallies were started, violence erupted against nonKAMASUTA minorities in the Rift Valley, particularly against Kikuyu, who were branded as
aliens and land-grabbers. The clashes, which were instigated by political leaders and carried
out mostly by young men in traditional pastoralist dress, claimed about 1,500 lives and
displaced an estimated 300,000 people between 1991 and 1993. The electoral violence of
1997 largely followed the same pattern.31
In contrast to their ‘formerly passive role in national affairs,’ pastoralists were prominently
involved in these politicized clashes of the 1990s.32 Militant majimboism, which stirred up the
violence of the 1990s as well as the post-election violence in 2008, also has repercussions
for more localized conflicts between pastoralists. It fuels conflicts over control and access to
territories that had formerly been used in a more flexible and less exclusive manner. This is
of course by no means the only explanation for the ongoing clashes in Kenya’s arid north,
but it is a factor of growing importance. This is aptly summarized by Günther Schlee:
[In the late 1990s and around 2000] local patterns of conflict among pastoralists in the north were
influenced by national politics or regional politics in other parts of Kenya. In order to mobilise the
government for their own causes, local leaders had to find out which degree of ethnicisation had
become usual and subsequently legitimate elsewhere. There the ethnicisation of politics and the
tolerance towards or even promotion of ethnic violence proceeded in giant steps, and the idea that
every group had a homeland and the right to expel minorities by force gained ground.
33
31
Ibid.
Paul Goldsmith, ‘The costs of pastoralist conflict in Kenya’ (Center for Minority Rights Development,
2005), p. 2.
33
Günther Schlee, ‘Territorialising ethnicity: The political ecology of pastoralism in Northern Kenya
and Southern Ethiopia’," p. 9.
32
8
In 2009, an initiative to review the existing constituency boundaries added fresh fuel to
these patterns of territorial conflict. An Interim Independent Boundary Review Commission
(IIBRC) was assigned the task of approving the physical boundaries of the 210 existing
constituencies and of suggesting an optimal number of constituencies. The IIBRC, known as
the Ligale Commission after its chairman Andrew Ligale, toured the country to meet with
representatives of the existing constituencies and listen to their views and suggestions.
These regional meetings immediately proved to be highly conflictual.34 The commission’s
report finally suggested the creation of an additional 80 new constituencies, a decision that
turned out to be ‘legal and political land mine.’35 The announcement of 20 new constituencies
in pastoralist areas, for example, immediately sparked heavy protests by residents of areas
that felt discriminated against or ignored by the commission’s suggestion.36
This section demonstrated, how pastoralist groups became increasingly enmeshed in
politicized violence and how this relates to Kenya’s troubled politics of decentralization. In the
following paragraphs I zoom into my research area to explore these dynamics in greater
detail.
Raiding, territory and boundaries in East Pokot
Before I turn to the patterns of conflict surrounding East Pokot, I shall first provide a brief
overview of the area.37 East Pokot is a newly created district in the Kenyan Rift Valley
34
Patrick Nzioka, ‘Boundaries team draws in crowds on regional tour’, Sunday Nation, [Nairobi], 8
November 2009, p. 22.
35
Alphonce Shiundu, ‘Boundaries commission report a legal and political land mine’, Daily Nation, 23
December 2010, p. 17.
36
Lucas Barasa, ‘Proposed constituencies could force political bigwigs to shift base’, Daily Nation,
19 November 2010, pp. 8-9. In 2011 the Independent Electoral and Boundaries Commission (IEBC)
was established to carry on the tasks of the Ligale Commission. The processes of readjusting the
administrative boundaries threaten to deadlock the implementation of the new constitution and the
upcoming general elections of 2012.
37
My research on East Pokot is inspired and informed by previous work on the area carried out by
members of the Department of Cultural and Social Anthropology, Cologne. The writings of Michael
Bollig, who worked in the area from 1987-89 and did some shorter studies in the 1990s, and Matthias
Österle, who did a re-study in 2003-5, provide an interesting and valuable long-term perspective on
the changing nature of cattle raiding in the area.
9
Province, located in the semi-arid to arid savannah plains north of Lake Baringo.38 The
district is almost exclusively inhabited by the Southern Nilotic speaking Pokot and belongs to
the poorest areas of Kenya, characterized by rapid population growth, weak infrastructure
and high illiteracy rates. The Pokot of the Baringo area have led a fully mobile pastoralist
lifestyle since they expanded into the area during the 19th century.39 In the lowland plains
toward the arid north people are still predominantly pastoral nomads. The areas stretching
from the shores of Lake Baringo toward the highlands, however, have witnessed a profound
change from pastoralism to sedentary agro-pastoralism. Since the 1980s rain-fed cultivation
has emerged as a dominant livelihood in pockets of the well-watered highlands. During the
past decade, the transition to agriculture accelerated and spread into the lowland areas.40
Trends of land-use change have been intensified by the implementation of community-based
wildlife conservation projects in the area.41 The resulting land-use patterns have formed a
landscape marked by growing fragmentation and habitat loss.
Some two decades ago, Michael Bollig asserted that ‘Pokot raids do not aim at expanding
their territory’42 and that administrative borders did not constitute issues of conflict.43 Raids
were interpreted as driven by ideals of male prestige, high bride prices and the influx of
modern arms. By the mid-1990s, the former buffer zones at the fringes of Pokot land that
separated the Pokot from their neighbours had ceased to exist.44 They were gradually
encroached by a steadily growing population or shifted toward the neighbouring territories as
a result of constant clashes. At the same time, the character of cattle raiding changed
38
As result of the constitutional reform, the district was recently integrated into Baringo County.
Michael Bollig, Risk Management in a Hazardous Environment.
40
Clemens Greiner, Miguel Alvarez and Mathias Becker, ‘From cattle to corn: Attributes of emerging
farming systems of former pastoral nomads in East Pokot, Kenya’, manuscript, accepted for
publication in: Society and Natural Resources.
41
Clemens Greiner, ‘Unexpected Consequences: Wildlife Conservation and Territorial Conflict in
Northern Kenya’, Human Ecology, 40, 3 (2012), pp. 415-425.
42
Michael Bollig, ‘Intra- and interethnic conflict in Northwest Kenya. A multicausal analysis of conflict
behaviour‘, Anthropos 88, 1/3 (1993), pp. 176–184: 178; Die Krieger der gelben Gewehre. Intra- und
interethnische Konfliktaustragung bei den Pokot Nordwestkenias, Kölner Ethnologische Studien (LIT,
Münster, 1992).
43
Michael Bollig, pers. comm., 10 April 2012.
44
Michael Bollig and Matthias Österle, ‘Changing communal land tenure in an East African pastoral
system: Institutions and socio-economic transformations among the Pokot of NW Kenya’, Zeitschrift
für Ethnologie, 133 (2008), pp. 301–322.
39
10
fundamentally, with acts of “ethnic cleansing” and extreme violence becoming increasingly
evident in relation to more traditional cattle raids. While Michael Bollig and Matthias Österle
describe these shifts in performance in great detail, drawing on the emotional and ritual
significance of raiding, amongst other aspects, their analysis suggests that Pokot rustling had
no intrinsic politicized dimension until the late 1990s.45 From then on, raiding gradually
changed and, as outlined above, warriors from Pokot were involved, alongside with warriors
from other pastoral groups, in attacks on agricultural settlers on Laikipia. A Pokot community
elder, asked about these conflicts, explained:
Not only the Pokot. Even the Samburu have understood that there is a way to tell the government to
tell these people [current land owners] to evacuate and surrender the farms to the locals. That before
that one, there has to be a conflict. You see? There should be a conflict between the indigenous and
the owners of the land. (…) Before the government approaches the owners of the ranches to sell
their land, there should be a recorded conflict between the owners of the ranches and the locals for a
certain period.
46
This quote, which echoes Günther Schlee’s analysis cited above, clearly shows the
connection between raiding and politics, and hints at the profound recent changes in Pokot
warfare. Today, the Pokot have hostile relations with almost all of their neighbours. Much of
the time, administrative boundaries and the allocation of infrastructure are the bones of
contention, and sometimes violence is openly fuelled by political incitement. In what follows, I
briefly describe the range of conflicts along the district boundaries.
In the south-west of their district, conflict is concentrated in the village of Loruk, where Pokot
and Tugen live. Three districts meet at this ribbon-built village, and the boundary lines are
unclear, which causes tension because both groups suspect each other of encroaching on
their own land. Furthermore, the Pokot claim their right to a primary school that was allegedly
45
‘“We turned our enemies into baboons”: Warfare, ritual and pastoral identity among the Pokot of
Northern Kenya’, in Aparna Rao, et al. (eds.), The Practice of War: Production, reproduction and
communication of armed violence, (Berghan Books, New York, 2007), pp. 23–51.
46
Interview, Pokot community elder, Churo (East Pokot), 5 November 2010.
11
built for them in 1984 but later was assigned to Baringo Central where Tugen are the
majority. Relatively solid political relations between Tugen and Pokot leaders have prohibited
larger-scale violent conflicts until recently, probably due to the fact that former Kenyan
President Daniel arap Moi is a Tugen. In November 2012, tensions between Pokot and
Tugen erupted resulting in several casualties, closed down schools and an estimated 6,000
people being displaced from their homes in the Marigat area.47 Marigat District
Commissioner Saul Muywaya is quoted in a newspaper report saying that he is afraid of a
worsening of the conflict in the run up to the general elections 2013, because ‘the attacks
were not mere cattle rustling but well calculated plans to displace one community from land
in the area.’48
The western margins of Pokot territory have witnessed comparatively recent and still
ongoing conflict with the neighbouring Marakwet, which first erupted around the dawn of reestablishing multi-party democracy in 1992 and led to massive displacements of Marakwet.49
The conflict, which has strong political connotations, involved extremely violent attacks, such
as the Murkutwo massacre in which Pokot raiders killed 56 people in March 2001. Dave
Eaton mentions a report by the Kenya Human Rights Commission which notes that these
attacks were part of a large-scale political programme of the Kalenjin leaders ‘to keep
opposition at bay (…) ahead of the 2002 general elections.’50 A clear hint as to the political
dimensions of the conflict is the quick agreement to a peace accord after the elections, which
can easily be explained by shifting power relations in Nairobi following the end of Moi’s
presidency in 2002. The fact that Marakwet Member of Parliament (MP) Linah Kilimo was
47
Mathew Ndanyi, ‘Kenya: 6,000 Flee Home As Pokot-Tugen Tensions Rise’, The Star [Nairobi],
<http://allafrica.com/stories/printable/201211060168.htm>
48
Ibid.
Ruto Pkalya, Mohamud Adan and Isabella Masinde, ‘Conflict in Northern Kenya: A focus on the
internally displaced conflict victims in Northern Kenya’, (Intermediate Technical Development GroupEastern Afrcia, Nairobi, 2003), p. 11.
50
Dave Eaton, ‘The business of peace: Raiding and peace work along the Kenya-Uganda border (Part
I)’, African Affairs 107, 426 (2008), pp. 89–110: 96.
49
12
assigned minister in Kibaki’s new cabinet led the Pokot leaders to give in and actively
engage in peace negotiations.51
The conflict with the Turkana, who live in the areas north of East Pokot, is among the oldest
conflicts in Northern Kenya.52 A new wave of conflict escalated in 1995 when Turkana tried to
occupy part of Pokot country and were defeated ‘devastatingly.’53 Since then, the conflict has
turned more and more openly into a boundary dispute that, in early 2012, involves mutual
killings and large-scale displacements on an almost daily basis.54 One of the hotspots of
violence is the village of Kapedo. A Memorandum to the Interim Independent Boundaries
Review Commission (IIBRC) describes in great detail the Pokot claims to the place, and
particularly to the Primary School which was supposedly built for them by Finnish
missionaries but ‘mischievously’ transferred to Turkana District in 1985.55 In the last decade
the Pokot have conquered territory that stretches far into former Turkana territory and turned
Kapedo into a virtual Turkana bridgehead, which, according to many Pokot, had to be
eliminated. Matthias Österle mentions that at times Pokot snipers shot at Turkana who dared
to leave the village in search of water or firewood.56 Only recently, new factors have emerged
onto the scene to fuel the on-going conflicts along the Pokot-Turkana border. Successful oil
prospecting missions and a proposed geothermal power plant increase the desirability of
areas of land that are claimed by both sides.57
51
Matthias Österle, Innovation und Transformation bei den pastoralnomadischen Pokot (East Pokot,
Kenia) (University of Cologne, PhD dissertation, 2007).
52
For the historical background see McCabe, Cattle Bring Us to Our Enemies; Bollig, Die Krieger der
gelben Gewehre.
53
Bollig and Österle, ‘“We turned our enemies into baboons”’, p. 26.
54
Gerald Andae and Barnabas Bii ‘Three herders killed in revenge mission’; Daily Nation on the Web,
9 January 2012, <http://www.allafrica.com/stories/201201101088.html> (19 November 2012).
55
‘Memorandum presented by East Pokot leaders, professional groups and community council of
elders to Hon. Andrew N. Ligale, chairman of the Interim Independent Boundary Review Commission
(IIBRC)’, (2010).
56
Österle, Innovation und Transformation.
57
Interview, Geothermal Development Company (GDC) representative, Nakuru, 12 September 2011;
Daily Nation, 29 June 2011, <http://allafrica.com/stories/201106291454.html> (30 June 2011). In the
current IEBC decision, Kapedo was moved from Turkana to Baringo. This sparked protests by
Turkana civic leaders, who filed a court case, Evelyn Kwamboka, ‘Courts to seal fate of boundaries as
acrimony persists’, Standard [Nairobi], 15 April 2012,
<http://www.standardmedia.co.ke/?id=2000056281&catid=289&articleID=2000056281> (21 November
2012).
13
For many years, the Samburu living in the north-east of Pokot territory were brothers in
arms with the Pokot in a common fight against the Turkana, particularly in the Baragoi area,
where warriors of both groups repeatedly attacked Turkana households in a conflict which
was politically instigated in order to ‘disenfranchise “enemy” community voters during
electioneering period.’58 In 2006, however, war also erupted between the Pokot and the
Samburu. The bone of contention in this case was the planned implementation of a wildlife
conservancy in an area that had formerly been used by both groups without dispute, but
which now attracted exclusive claims. The conflict eventually spread to Laikipia, and since
the mid-1990s, Pokot and Samburu herders had been moving into vacated areas of Laikipia,
located in the east of Pokot territory, to make use of available pasture. Fuelled by the
tensions around the proposed wildlife conservancy they fought each other over land claims.59
These fights found a sad climax in the massacre of Kanampiu village in September 2009,
where a Pokot attack led to 35 casualties.60 According to a Pokot elder, this massacre was
meant as an example. The Samburu were explicitly warned not to move their settlements
into a zone claimed by Pokot.61 Kanampiu, the settlement in question, was eradicated in the
attack.
This brings us to the last centre of conflict, Mukutani, an area in the south-western margins
of Pokot territory, which I will describe in some more detail. In March 2005, Pokot warriors
started a series of raids against the neighbouring IlChamus, killing nine people and stealing
more than 2000 heads of cattle.62 The massive attacks, which were carried out on a daily
basis for several weeks, forced the IlChamus to withdraw and leave large parts of the area
as no man’s land. Only massive army operations stopped the Pokot from further displacing
the IlChamus. According to my interviews, in the years before this incident relations between
Pokot and IlChamus had been amicable, so what had happened?
58
Ruto Pkalya, et al., ‘Conflict in Northern Kenya’, p. 24
Greiner, ‘Unexpected Consequences’.
60
James Kariuki, ‘Spate of violence feared in Laikipia as attacks resume’, Daily Nation, 5 November
2009, p. 34.
61
Interview, Pokot community elder, Churo (East Pokot), 26 July 2011.
62
Peter Ng'etich and Simon Siele, ‘17 killed after cattle rustlers strike village’, Saturday Nation, 30
April 2005, p. 5.
59
14
The IlChamus community had applied for an own constituency with the Electoral
Commission of Kenya.63 This would have improved their position significantly within the
district and it would have involved the cementing of an administrative boundary between the
IlChamus and the Pokot. The IlChamus were warned by Pokot leaders not to insist on the
creation of an own constituency, and Österle writes that the Pokot warriors were given
presents of ammunition and money by political leaders to attack their neighbours.64 A Pokot
chief of a neighbouring area aptly summarized this:
The raids that took place in the year 2005 were linked with the boundary problem. The Pokot wanted
to fight the Njemps and push them back to Kiserian, far from that place [Mukutani], because they saw
65
that the government is not helping them there.
The conflict between the Pokot and IlChamus at Mukutani has its historical precedents.
Mukutani nowadays is a village on the banks of river Mukutani, one of the region’s few
perennial sources of water. In 1907 the colonial government established an administrative
post there to arbitrate competing claims for land and water between both groups.66 The post
was deserted soon thereafter, but competition over the area remained. Although the Pokot
mostly used the pastures north of the river, they continued to cross the river to graze and
also settle.67 In 1988, President Moi, who was also the area’s MP, shifted the boundary of
63
Their claim was based on the fact that they are an ethnic minority and thus politically
underrepresented in the existing constituency (Baringo Central) where the majority of inhabitants are
Tugen. The case was taken to the Kenya High Court, which ruled in favour for the IlChamus
community in December 2006. In February 2010 they applied with the IIBRC to split Baringo Central
Constituency in order to create an Ilchamus Constituency. By November 2010 the issue was back at
court. Daily Nation, 24 November 2010, <http://www.allafrica.com/stories/201011250606.html> (21
November 2012). The recent curving out of a new constituency (Mochongoi) from Baringo Central has
fueled violent clashes between IlChamus, who want the constituency be named ‘IlChamus’ and the
Endorois, who also successfully claimed the status of being an ethnic minority, Wycliff Kipsang and
Noah Cheploen, ‘Tension as IlChamus, Endorios arm their morans’, Daily Nation, 14 February 2012,
<http://www.allafrica.com/stories/201202150132.html> (21 November 2012).
64
Österle, Innovation und Transformation, p. 211.
65
Interview, Pokot chief, Churo (East Pokot), 26 April 2011.
66
David Anderson, Eroding the Commons: The politics of ecology in Baringo, Kenya 1890-1963
(James Currey, Oxford, 2002).
67
Peter D. Little, The Elusive Granary: Herder, farmer, and the state in Northern Kenya (Cambridge
University Press, Cambridge, 1992).
15
IlChamus land thirteen kilometres across the river into Pokot land. This, my Pokot informants
assume, was meant to be a favour for their political support. At the time, overt conflicts over
this contentious issue were largely avoided due to fear of Moi’s reaction. When Moi lost
power in 2002, these tensions resurfaced.68
Again an infrastructural component is part of the quarrel. In 1978 the Full Gospel Church
built a Primary School and a dispensary in Mukutani. The Pokot narratives concerning these
are aptly summarized in their Memorandum to the Ligale Commission:
Through the Pokot generosity, they permitted establishment of a mission school, Church and
Dispensary in the Pokot Territory. The Pokot people accommodated their neighbours in sharing the
services offered by the church, School and the Dispensary. This was later abused and became one
of the most controversial sources of conflict between the neighbouring communities. The Njemps
Community claims is a classical case of a proverbial camel which was accommodated and later
wanted to evict its host.
69
According to most Pokot I talked to, the boundary between Pokot and IlChamus in the area
under dispute is the River Mukutani. The above cited Memorandum, however, which was
drafted by the political elite, makes a different claim. According to this document, the only
acceptable boundary lies within present day IlChamus territory, about fifteen kilometres south
of the river. Meanwhile, the raids against the IlChamus have continued and large areas east
of Lake Baringo continue to be no-man’s land. Some families, however, have started to resettle in the village of Mukutani to practice farming along the river. They came as farmers,
leaving their livestock some thirty kilometres behind at the village of Kiserian, where they had
fled to after the clashes in 2005. But arable land has emerged as a new source of tension in
an area, where pasture has been the prime resource for conflict for over a century.70 A
growing number of Pokot and IlChamus have started cultivating along the banks of River
Mukutani. The river provides some possibilities for irrigation, but land is getting scarce now.
68
Interview, Joseph D. Lotodo, former MP East Pokot (1992-2002), Nakuru, 13 April 2011.
‘Memorandum presented by East Pokot leaders’.
70
Anderson, Eroding the Commons.
69
16
The new conflict surfaced early last year, at the beginning of the growing season when all the
villagers rushed to prepare their own cultivation plots. This season, residents of Mukutani
village told me, the Pokot destroyed irrigation channels that lead to areas cultivated by the
IlChamus.
In September 2011, I visited a peace meeting between the IlChamus and the Pokot in
Mukutani. The meeting was facilitated by the local administration following the killing of an
IlChamus herder. At the meeting, a Pokot elder rose and expressed his content that the
IlChamus have finally returned to Mukutani. He, however, deplored the fact that they came
without their livestock and asked them to also bring their livestock back. This caused great
discomfort among the IlChamus, and one of their elders spoke out: ‘we will not do so’, he
said, ‘because if we bring back our livestock then you can raid and displace us again!’
This brief overview of the conflicts surrounding East Pokot clearly shows that most of the
current violent interactions between the Pokot and their neighbours are related to highly
politicized negotiations over land, boundaries or votes. These conflicts, however, are fought
out by young men who do not necessarily follow political aims, but are likely to be motivated
by cultural and economic factors. I want to emphasize that I do not see the Pokot as the main
aggressors, let alone as ‘the region’s most formidable and battle-hardened ethnic war
machine.’71 The patterns of violence described here refer to a particular case that
nevertheless represents the kinds of dynamics which dominate political struggles in the Rift
Valley, in Maasai-land and in the pastoralist areas in northern Kenya.72
Raiding for the boundary: de-centralisation, sub-division and territorial expansion
71
Paul Goldsmith, ‘The costs of pastoralist conflict in Kenya’, p. 20.
David Anderson and Emma Lochery, ‘Violence and exodus in Kenya's Rift Valley, 2008: Predictable
and preventable?’, Journal of Eastern African Studies 2, 2 (2008), pp. 328–343; John G. Galaty,
‘Double-voiced violence in Kenya’, in Vigdis Broch-Due (ed.), Violence and Belonging: The quest for
identity in post-colonial Africa, (Routledge, London, 2005); Günther Schlee, ‘Changing alliances
among the Boran, Garre and Gabra in Northern Kenya and Southern Ethiopia’, in Günther Schlee and
Elisabeth E. Watson (eds.), Changing Identifications and Alliances in North-East Africa, Volume 2:
Ethiopia and Kenya (Berghan Books, New York, 2009), pp. 203–224.
72
17
About three decades ago, Tornay noted that there is ‘no conscious, explicit territorial
strategy’ behind pastoral warfare.73 This view was shared by many of his colleagues of his
time and after. Viewed in the light of current trends, however, tremendous changes in the
drivers of such warfare become obvious. Today, territorial expansion and boundary
adjustments are at the core of many, if not most, conflicts. The expansionist tendencies now
pursued through the act of raiding recall accounts of pre-colonial warfare among
pastoralists.74 As outlined at the beginning of this article, many authors suggest that in the
past raiding was used as a means of territorial expansion, until this was contained by the
colonial administrations. In contrast to the current dynamics, raiding without territorial
aspirations might be considered to have been a product of the colonial order. It began to
revert to a semblance of its original form once the state lost the capacity to control
boundaries, which in Kenya was noticeable when Daniel arap Moi’s griop on power began to
fade.75
While there are many possible drivers of this shift toward territorial expansion, such as
demographic growth and depletion of resources, my discussion here is more modest and
seeks to highlight the dynamics that lead to the centrality of administrative boundaries in the
recent conflicts.
In pastoralist areas, increasing settlement, privatization and fragmentation of land have
sensitized the populations to the issue of administrative boundaries. The political situation
described at the outset of this article has greatly contributed to the scramble for land and
made people realize that boundaries become more and more important in limiting or enabling
access to resources. Those resources are no longer limited to pasture and water. As the
case of East Pokot shows, modern infrastructure projects often become centrepieces of
73
Serge Tornay, ‘Armed conflicts in the Lower Omo Valley, 1970-1976: An analysis from within
Nyangatom Society’, in Katsuyoshi Fukui and David Turton (eds.), Warfare Among East African
Herders, pp. 97–117: 115.
74
But see Schlee, ‘Territorialising ethnicity: The political ecology of pastoralism in Northern Kenya and
th
Southern Ethiopia’, p. 7, who notes that the pre-colonial Worr Libin (Boran) wars of the 19 century did
not aim at territorial expansion.
75
Clemens Greiner, Michael Bollig and J. Terrence McCabe, ‘Notes on Land-based Conflicts in
Kenya’s Arid Areas’, Africa Spectrum, 46, 3 (2011), pp. 77-81.
18
conflict, as, increasingly, do fertile land and irrigation areas.76 The structure of Kenya’s
administration, which is largely based on the colonial setup, further fuels these conflicts.
Administrative units are generally coterminous with ethnic names and the by parliamentary
constituencies are aligned with ethnic boundaries.77 Populations who are living outside of
what is perceived to be their homeland are easily denounced and perceived as strangers,
and easily excluded from the political-economic patronage networks within their “host”
areas.78
The colonial boundaries were never set up with the intent to organize and ensure adequate
service provision, let alone fair political representation. During Kenyatta and Moi’s
presidencies this was not redressed. Instead, the public administration was turned into ‘a tool
for political mobilization.’79 Politicians shifted territorial boundaries at will, such as was the
case in Mukutani, and the administration complied. Today, administrative boundaries in East
Pokot and neighbouring areas are ill-defined, and in some cases overlapping. During my
research it proved impossible to get hold of a list of the area’s current administrative units at
the provincial administration in Nakuru. After Mwai Kibaki was elected as Kenya’s third
president in 2002, the creation of new administrative units continued to be used as a
campaign tool. East Pokot itself was created in this manner, shortly before the general
elections of 2007. Since he came to power, Kibaki has almost tripled the number of
Districts.80 Subdivision, Schlee writes, is the current trend in Kenya. This is what the political
76
Similar developments can be observed along Kerio-River, where irrigation projects increasingly
become the focus of conflict, and where Pokot and Turkana fight over the Turkwell-Gorge hydroelectric power plant. Interview, Samwel Musumba, Programmes Coordinator, Provincial Peace Forum,
Nakuru, 13 September 2011.
77
John O. Oucho, Undercurrents of Ethnic Conflict in Kenya (Brill, Leiden, 2002), p. 44.
78
This has been aggravated with the introduction of “Constituency Development Funds” (CDF) in
2003. CDFs have replaced the administration-based District Development Funds. Now the allocation
of funds for development projects is directly linked to the MP of an area. This consolidates his position
and enables him to discriminate against opponents. Günther Schlee, ‘Territorializing ethnicity: the
imposition of a model of statehood on pastoralists in northern Kenya and southern Ethiopia’, Ethnic
and Racial Studies (2011), pp. 1–18.
79
Joshua M. Kivuva, ‘Restructuring the Kenyan State’ (Working Paper, Society for International
Development, n.d.), p. 13.
80
Sunday Nation, 15 December 2007, p. 2.
19
elites have asked for, and the government has been willing to comply in the effort to buy
support.81
In the current conflicts in Kenya’s pastoralist areas, territorial re-ordering is a dominant motif
and claims for boundary adjustments emerge as one of the central levers in these struggles.
These conflicts clearly reflect the country’s experiences of violence since the early 1990s,
particularly that of the post-election violence of 2008.82 As such they are part of Kenya’s
troubled nation-building building process. Unlike the post-election clashes in Central Kenya,
however, the frequent violent incidents in the pastoral areas in Northern Kenya are usually
portrayed as traditional conflicts fuelled by the backward cultural practice of cattle rustling. In
the remainder of this article I advance some initial answers to the question how raiding is
connected to politics.
‘Silent politics’: cattle raiding and political machinations
While the political dimensions of inter-tribal violence are largely explicable, the nexus
between political leaders and the actual raiders is much less clear. There is evidence that
Kalenjin politicians were actively involved in the distribution of modern firearms to the Pokot
in the mid-1990s.83 In some cases, such as in the attacks against the IlChamus, the actions
of the raiders were openly instigated by politicians. Sometimes this is also reported in the
media.84 Yet finding out exactly which politicians are involved has proven impossible. This
does not come as a surprise because since the post-election crisis of 2008 and the
subsequent prosecution of Kenyan politicians by the International Criminal Court (ICC), more
public attention is being devoted to politicians instigating ethnic hatred.
In private talks, people mostly blamed area MPs and local councillors as culprits. Both are
elected by the public and have to compete hard for their positions and balance different
claims. Bollig, for example, describes how MP hopefuls were judged according to their
81
Schlee, ‘Territorializing ethnicity: the imposition of a model of statehood on pastoralists in northern
Kenya and southern Ethiopia’, p. 9.
82
For a similar observation see Boye and Kaarhus, ‘Competing Claims and Contested Boundaries’.
83
McCabe, Cattle Bring Us to Our Enemies, p. 90.
84
Barasa, Lucas and Joseph Kipkoech, ‘Cattle rustling a thriving “business”’, Daily Nation, 8 May
2006, p. 11.
20
capacity to guarantee organized provision of relief food,85 and at the time of my fieldwork, the
appropriate usage of Constituency Development Funds was a recurring issue. In order to
safeguard their positions, MPs must shield raiders from prosecution, while at the same time
fearing that their raids may lead to a devastating government response and disarmament
campaigns by the security forces, which they must also prevent. I was repeatedly told that,
particularly during electoral campaigns, peace negotiations are usually avoided by politicians,
because any concessions they make are easily used against them by their competitors;86
during my fieldwork, no active politician, either councillor or MP, was publicly engaged in
peace negotiations. Pressured by the Geothermal Development Cooperation, the sitting MP
of East Pokot, for example, agreed at a meeting in Naivasha in 2011 to peacefully share the
geothermal resources of the disputed Silale area with the Turkana. This agreement,
however, was never communicated to the general population in the region, where tensions
between Pokot and Turkana over this matter are high.87 Whether the underlying rationale for
this behaviour is based on the fear of losing support in the community, or perhaps the
expectation of some benefits that might result from further clashes, is difficult to tell.
Regarding the reshaping of administrative boundaries, the political elite in East Pokot are in
two minds. A smaller faction argues that the Pokot might benefit if members of their ethnic
grouplive outside their own administrative boundaries, while the majority want to extend their
boundaries in order to include the Pokot now living outside areas currently defined as Pokot
land.88 This situation is not publicly debated, however, and a deeper examination of this
matter is beyond the scope of this article. In any case, the politics in the area are strictly
defined in ethnic terms, as Eaton notes, and politicians are ‘under enormous pressure to
support ‘their’ people.’89 In the game plans of local politicians, territorial gains mean more
voters and increased political esteem locally, even though nationally, those openly endorsing
or even tacitly approving such tactics attract vociferous criticism. Nevertheless, given the
85
Bollig, Risk Management in a Hazardous Environment.
Interview, Samburu politician, Maralal, 29 August 2011.
87
Interview, GDC representative, Nakuru, 12 September 2011.
88
Interview, Pokot community elder, Churo (East Pokot), 26 July 2011.
89
Dave Eaton, ‘The business of peace: Raiding and peace work along the Kenya-Uganda border (Part
II)’, African Affairs, 107, 427 (2008), pp. 243–259:255.
86
21
unpredictability of party affiliations and coalitions, a strong local foothold is the sine qua non
for a political career.
In this context, it is also important to mention that, at least in East Pokot, most politicians
are former herds-boys, and are familiar with the dynamics of violence. One active politician,
once a cattle rustler himself, confirmed that during the 1990s booty from raiding was used to
finance political campaigns, and that today continuous raiding is particularly used to push
people out of places that are perceived to have an economic benefit.90 Livestock raiding is an
excellent strategy to this end for several reasons. Firstly, it undermines their enemies’
livelihoods to such an extent that it very often results in large-scale displacement; secondly,
acquisition of livestock provides sufficient incentive in itself; and thirdly, in light of this fact, it
is very easy for politicians to blame cattle raiding on forces beyond their control. Yet there
seems to be no clear chain of command between politicians and raiders, and therefore the
raiders can hardly be described as militias in an emerging system of warlordism, which
appears to be the situation in West Pokot.91
Looking at the raiders’ motivations reveals a mixed picture. Some warriors, particularly in
Amaya, an area that has witnessed recent clashes, were fairly explicit about boundary
quarrels as an underlying motive, which indicates that these warriors perceive themselves as
members of competing territorialized social units. Territorial gains are nowadays more
enduring and valuable than a few stolen cattle, as new territories open up more options for
grazing and cultivation and lessen internal competition. Asked about their reasons for fighting
with the Samburu, one man told me the following:
The Samburu say that their boundary with us is the River Amaya. And we, as Pokot, we know our
boundary is in a place called Longewan, on the top of the hill. The Samburu, they have a problem
with the boundary. But before, we had no trouble with the boundaries because everybody was
grazing the way he felt like because there was no issue of boundaries.
92
90
Interview Pokot politician, Nakuru, 12 September 2011.
Joshia O. Osamba, ‘The sociology of insecurity: cattle rustling and banditry in North-Western
Kenya’, African Journal on Conflict Resolution, 1, 2 (2000), pp. 11–37.
92
Interview, Pokot warrior, Plesian (East Pokot), 19 April 2011.
91
22
With obvious pride, and clearly with no qualms about being overheard by other villagers,
another young man in Amaya said: “My name is Tomele. This name was given to me
because I killed someone. What we are fighting over with the Samburu is the boundary.”93
This hints at prestige and symbolic capital for successful raiders, a motive that still is
powerful, particularly amongst those youth that have no chance of social advancement
through formal education. In another area, young men who revealed themselves to be
raiders were quick to reject political motivations as irrelevant and pointed instead to their
poverty and marginalization as reasons for raiding.94 Furthermore, weapons, and particularly
ammunition, indispensable for self-defence in these violence-prone areas, are expensive and
need to be compensated: ‘We normally sell the animals we have in the homestead to buy the
ammunition’, one warrior told me, ‘and if I go for a raid and get enough animals, I go and sell
some to buy some more. This is how it operates with our guns.’95 Bollig describes these
dynamics in much detail, and also points out the underlying cultural and emotive patterns.96
For the purposes of this article, it suffices to acknowledge that many raiders follow their own
agendas, driven by issues such as poverty, revenge, and the desire for prestige or quick
money, and that therefore there are enough young men in East Pokot willing to raid their
neighbours.
Publicly, the political elites, government officials and community elders in East Pokot
depoliticize cattle raiding almost by default.97 They accuse young, undisciplined and illiterate
herders as being the only culprits of raids. This has a positive side effect in that, as a
consequence, claims to more and better infrastructure are made as the only promising path
to stop raiding. In interviews, boundary issues and territorial claims were mentioned only
hesitatingly as underlying factors in raiding, and their mention at all required a relatively high
level of trust between me and my informants. Information on political instigation or even links
93
Interview, Pokot warrior, Amaya (East Pokot), 27 July 2011.
Interview, Pokot warrior, Chepungus (East Pokot), 29 April 2011.
95
Interview, Pokot warrior, Plesian (East Pokot), 19 April 2011.
96
Bollig, ‘Intra- and interethnic conflict in Northwest Kenya’.
97
See for example in: Kibiwott Koross, ‘Learning comes to a standstill as cattle raiders call the shots’,
Daily Nation, 15 July 2008, p. 30.
94
23
between raiders and political leaders were revealed at best vaguely. The exact nexus
between politics and raiding therefore remains uncertain.98
How, then, does cattle raiding fit within the scheme of political machinations? An
atmosphere of fine-grained tensions can prompt raiders to attack at certain times and certain
places. This can be intentionally amplified by political leaders through the spreading of vague
information and partial truths. An even more direct instigation is what a Pokot elder described
as ‘silent politics.’99 According to him, leaders, particularly MPs and MP candidates, go to the
interior of Pokot land, where army or police are not present. There they tell the people that
the so-and-so group is taking away Pokot land and needs to be stopped. They promise
political protection for the raiders, and there are persistent rumours that they also distribute
ammunition or money among the warriors.100 In this situation, the raiders come to feel that an
attack is approved by the community as well as by their political leaders and that they can
expect no punishment or other social sanctions for their actions. This pattern, which was
confirmed in many informal conversations, echoes what Fleisher describes for cattle raiders
in Kuria, Tanzania, where inter-clan tensions and warfare provide a window of opportunity for
cattle raiding.101
For the political leaders it is very convenient ‘to hide behind the veil of “traditional conflicts”’
and many are actively working on preserving this image.102 A recent parliamentary debate on
the problem of cattle rustling and insecurity in the pastoral areas of Northern Kenya in the
Kenya National Assembly serves as a useful illustration: Although many speakers came from
areas affected by cattle raiding, they described cattle rustling as a backward oriented cultural
practice fuelled by tendencies of criminal commercialization. Mr Lesrima, MP of Samburu
West and Assistant Minister of State for Provincial Administration and Internal Security, for
example, made the following point: ‘We know, that pastoralists have no boundaries in East
Africa.’ Instead of elaborating the connection between politics, questions over land rights,
98
For a critique see Eaton, ‘The business of peace’.
Interview, Pokot community elder, Loruk (East Pokot), 11 August 2011.
100
Interview, Pokot community elder, Churo (East Pokot), 26 July 2011.
101
Fleisher, ‘“War Is Good for Thieving!”’
102
Saverio Krätli and Jeremy Swift, ‘Understanding and managing pastoral conflict in Kenya. A
literature review’ (Institute of Development Studies, University of Sussex, 1999), p. 17.
99
24
and raiding, he blamed unspecified NGOs for fuelling cattle rustling in order to access funds
for peace building measures. Mr Langat, a Kalenjin MP from the Rift Valley, held that cattle
rustling is a purely cultural issue, and Mr Magwanga, MP of a constituency in Nyanza
Province, was quick to second that ‘cattle rustling should not be politicized.’103
Conclusion: toward a political perspective of cattle raiding
With respect to recent clashes in Isiolo, Tana River and Moyale, Mzalendo Kibunjia,
chairman of the Kenyan National Cohesion and Integration Commission (NCIC) informed the
Kenyan broadcasting station Capital FM that the conflicts in Northern Kenya are ‘politically
motivated’ and should not be ‘dismissed as conflict over water, pasture and cattle rustling.’104
This article confirms this perspective by demonstrating that much of the current violence in
pastoralist areas in Kenya is indeed primarily fuelled by politicized dynamics, whereby the
motives of the raiders and those of local politicians form an unholy alliance. There are clear
continuities between the politicized violence in Central Kenya, which found its temporary
peak in the post-election violence of 2008, and the ongoing tensions and clashes in Northern
Kenya’s pastoralist areas. Polemically, one could say that the scourges of the modern
Kenyan nation state – political tribalism and majimboism – have penetrated to even the most
marginal areas. In these conflicts, contested boundaries and issues of entitlement to
resources play a central role. Some authors have emphasized the crucial role of property
rights in this context.105 It remains to be seen whether the recent endeavours by the IEBC to
clarify and re-establish the administrative boundaries will eventually enhance more peaceful
relations in the area.
This article also demonstrates that established interpretations, be they cultural, ecological or
even climate related are no longer adequate on their own. Attempts to understand the
current conflicts require the use of approaches that are sensitive to the political implications
103
Hansard (National Assembly, Kenya), 15 December 2010, pp. 33-44.
‘Moyale clashes are political, says Kibunjia’, Capital FM Home Page, available at
<http://www.capitalfm.co.ke/news/2012/01/moyale-clashes-are-political-says-kibunjia/> (12 January
2012).
105
Butler and Gates, ‘African range wars’; Christian Lund, ‘Property and Citizenship: Conceptually
Connecting Land Rights and Belonging in Africa’, Africa Spectrum, 46, 3 (2011), pp. 71-75.
104
25
of cattle raiding and view the pastoralist areas more in the context of the struggles of
democratization, decentralization and nation building that are taking place in Kenya. In the
light of these dynamics, it appears at best problematic to associate cattle rustling with
allegedly timeless cultural practices or to blame it on climate change. Both might influence
the actor’s perceptions and can easily be used to legitimate ongoing and future atrocities.106
106
Nils Petter Gleditsch, ‘Whither the weather? Climate change and conflict’, Journal of Peace
Research, 49, 1 (2012), pp. 3-9.
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