THE MASAI, VIGILANCE AND LOCAL POLITICS

The (de)construction of order is a central theme in the study of vigilantes and vigilance. When working well, vigilantes are praised for their general contribution to public order by enforcing rules and penalties, defined by and adapted to local needs (Heald Reference Heald2005: 266). With regard to Nigeria, Ekeh (Reference Ekeh2002) for example argues that vigilantes clearly meet a local need for security which cannot be fulfilled by the existing state police forces. However, this is not always the case. A prominent issue in recent research on vigilantes is why some vigilantes contribute to order and others do not: many vigilante groups start as popular initiatives for the construction of order, but degenerate into violent militias, contributing to social and political disorder through brutal human rights violations and increasing criminality and insecurity. An important question is therefore why the Masai play a constructive role in day-to-day processes of governance and security within Bwera town, while many similar groups play a destructive role in perpetuating social disorder. In brief, why do vigilantes adopt what Daniel Nina (Reference Nina2001, quoted in Baker Reference Baker2002a, Reference Baker2002b) calls ‘either a crime or social order approach’? Most of the literature on the subject emphasises the politically opportunistic nature of vigilante groups in explaining apparently ‘senseless violence’ (Ruteere & Pommerolle Reference Ruteere and Pommerolle2003: 603). Within the context of a neo-patrimonial state under strong economic and political pressure, vigilantes try to gain access to patronage networks of (re)distribution and ‘capture’ the state. In this scenario, vigilantes ‘all too easily become a political instrument in the hands of those with the money to pay’ (Anderson Reference Anderson2002: 542). In other words, vigilantes are hijacked by political elites for their own uses, serving patrimonial interests before degenerating into criminal and violent gangs (Baker Reference Baker2002a; Heald Reference Heald2005; Reno Reference Reno2002) – a view which Meagher (Reference Meagher2007: 92) summarises as ‘far from attempting to reform society, vigilantes are seen as collections of thugs and marginalised youth struggling for their share of patronage, and preying on the communities they claim to protect’. A more nuanced view is offered by Kagwanja (Reference Kagwanja2003, Reference Kagwanja2006) and Meagher (Reference Meagher2007), who emphasise the need to look beyond research that stresses the inherently brutal character of vigilante groups. This work notes the dynamic relationships between vigilante groups and the broader institutional environment in explaining the shift from ‘order’ to ‘disorder’, and in this way from the defence of public to more private interests. Many vigilante groups were initially independent social movements, which contributed to local order before veering off to become violent political and criminal organisations. Kagwanja (Reference Kagwanja2006) for example shows how Mungiki was originally a social movement that resisted Moi's patrimonial power, thus holding state power to account. However, as the movement was co-opted into the ruling party's patron–client relationships, it was transformed into a criminal gang, which led to its fragmentation and disintegration. These insights are useful for the Masai in Bwera town. Firstly, they highlight how vigilantes operate on a sliding scale, along which they can move from ‘order’ to ‘disorder’ and from public to more private interests. Secondly, they indicate how their relative position is determined by these groups' relationships in the wider institutional environment, especially with political elites and other informal urban groups. These actors are not independent of each other, but are what Norbert Elias (Reference Elias1987: 85) calls ‘figurations’ or a ‘pattern which interdependent human beings, as groups or as individuals, form with each other’.Footnote ³ Analysing the dynamics and power balances in this ‘sociological configuration’ throws up insights into public authority in Bwera town and the role of urban marginalised groups such as the Masai in the (de)construction of local law and order.

MIRAA, THE MASAI AND THE SYNAGOGI

Bwera is a small town in Kasese district in western Uganda, right on the border with the DRC. Because of its strategic location, it has a thriving informal economy. An important group within this informal economy are the Masai, who sell and consume miraa. ‘Miraa’ and ‘mairungi’ are the local names for the stimulant khat (qat). Miraa has been grown in Uganda since the early twentieth century, coming to Bwera fifty years later, when Arab traders settled in the area. These traders started consuming miraa and cultivating it on a small scale. Miraa was and continues to be imported from larger plantations in the neighbouring town of Fort Portal, where conditions are much more favourable for its cultivation (Anderson et al. Reference Anderson, Beckerleg, Hailu and Klein2007: 122). Many people – in the first place fellow Muslims – also took up the habit. At first mainly confined to businessmen, it quickly spread to the youth.

Within Bwera town, people associated with miraa are divided into two categories, sellers and consumers. There are only between eight and twelve sellers. Every day, they go to Kasese town (about one hour's drive away), where they buy the khat from Fort Portal, and transport it to Bwera. The consumers are a much bigger group. There are no estimates of their total number, but there is a rather stable group of about a hundred people hanging around the ‘Synagogi’, a run-down structure in a dark corner of the central market of Bwera and the main location where miraa is sold and consumed. Apart from this, there is a much larger group of about 1,000 consumers who occasionally sit in the Synagogi when buying their miraa. Members of the Synagogi – both sellers and consumers – are called the Masai. There are no formal mechanisms to become a Masai: anyone consuming miraa in the Synagogi is considered a Masai. On average, the Masai are a group of uneducated and largely unemployed men who have few job prospects beyond petty work in the transport sector such as loading and offloading vehicles. Apart from these men, about ten women are members of the ‘core group’ and work as prostitutes. The group reflects the ethnic composition of the town: 80% of the Masai are Bakonzo. The remaining 20% are a mixture of different ethnic groups: Batooro, Banyankole, Baganda, Nande and so on. The members of the core group are mostly between fifteen and twenty-five years old, except for a few leading members, who are between thirty and fifty. The ‘wider’ Masai group is a very broad age group, ranging from fifteen to sixty years old.

There are two versions circulating among the Masai as to why they chose their particular name. The first version claims it was adopted from the ‘original’ Kenyan Masai who are known as traders in herbal products in the area. The Bwera Masai decided to take their name because they also deal in what they consider ‘healing herbal products’, miraa. The second version claims that they chose the name for socio-political reasons, as the Kenyan Masai resisted colonial power. As will be explained, the Masai in Bwera also consider themselves as standing up against oppressive powers.

The name Synagogi mirrors their socio-political identification in a similar way. As one of the leading members summarises: ‘The Synagogi is the church of the Judas, the church of the bad people. During the time of Jesus, Judas was opposed to Jesus’ (Leading Masai member 2008 int.). As with the name Masai, they chose the term Synagogi because they feel marginalised and are resisting what they consider oppressive powers.

The Masai have a centralised hierarchical structure, based around their leader Jamali, a primary school drop-out who has been dealing in miraa for over twenty years. Apart from his experience in the miraa business, a particular characteristic of Jamali which is important for his leadership position is his ‘fearlessness’. He has quite an aggressive personalityFootnote ⁴ and is known for confronting anyone whom he dislikes, regardless of whether they are street sellers or high-placed government representatives. On several occasions, he has jumped in front of ministerial cars in order to demand something. Everyone, both within and outside of the association, emphasises how he ‘fears nothing and no one’ (Local trader 1 2005 int.). This status allows him to control all decisions within the association, whether related to the Masai's vigilance or trading activities: everything passes through him. In other words, Jamali's leadership is based on a mixture of respect and fear. There is no formalised hierarchy, but members who are closer to Jamali have an (informally) higher hierarchical position. So do members who have been in the association for a longer time: the younger members have to show great respect for the elders. Disrespect for this strict hierarchical order leads to punishment.Footnote ⁵ The Masai leadership is respected not only by the Masai themselves, but also by other groups within the informal economy of Bwera town: boda boda (motorcycle and bicycle taxi) drivers, fuel smugglers, street sellers and so on. The Masai leaders, and particularly Jamali, have close links to all major government figures in the area (civil servants, local politicians, security agencies and so on), with whom they are in contact on a regular basis, and for whom they serve as an entry-point into the informal sphere of Bwera town. This also works the other way around: the Masai serve as an entry-point for the population to the government agents. As will be explained later, the Masai act as go-betweens between governmental agents/politicians and the other urban informal groups, which have neither contacts nor a strict organisational unity.

MIRAA: (IL)LEGAL SUBSTANCE IN UGANDA

Miraa has an ambiguous legal position: while legal in some countries (such as Kenya, South Africa and the UK), it is illegal in many others (such as Somalia, USA, Canada and several European countries). Miraa is legal in Uganda, where it is cultivated and consumed by a growing number of people, especially youths. Despite its legal status, there are plans on the national level to ban its sale and use: although not ratified by the Ugandan parliament, there is a new bill to restrict trade and production (Anderson et al. Reference Anderson, Beckerleg, Hailu and Klein2007: 124). According to Beckerleg (Reference Beckerleg2006: 227), ‘across the country, opinion is sharply divided amongst political leaders, health officials, as well as khat producers, sellers, and consumers as to whether a national ban on khat will come into effect.’ Media reports frequently stress the illegal character of the stimulant. The pro-government newspaper New Vision has often portrayed khat as a harmful narcotic (Anderson et al. Reference Anderson, Beckerleg, Hailu and Klein2007: 130–1; Beckerleg Reference Beckerleg2006: 228–9).

Most people in Uganda are unaware of the legal status of miraa, and regard it as an illegal substance similar to ‘opium’ or banja, the local names for cannabis.Footnote ⁶ This image is enhanced by the fact that many consumers smoke cannabis after chewing khat, as is also the case in Bwera, where cannabis is consumed and sold in the Synagogi. Miraa is not only considered illegal because of its links with other narcotic substances, but is also associated with idleness, crime, addiction, immoral sexual behaviour, family breakdown and school absenteeism.

These views are mirrored by local government authorities, which are increasingly trying to limit the use of miraa within their scope of jurisdiction. As a local government official in Bwera (2006 int.) said:

The officer in charge of Bwera police station (2006 int.) on the other hand argued that:

As a result, the local government authorities in Kasese (district council) and Bwera (sub-county council) have passed by-laws restricting the miraa trade.

Although local government authorities formally treat their activities as illegal, the Masai are nevertheless allowed to continue these activities: the by-laws on miraa are not strictly followed up. This has partly to do with the fact that the Masai ‘share their spoils’ with the security agencies: the officer in charge (OC) of the local police gains his share from the sale of khat (a fixed percentage which was impossible to discover); and other security officers (police agents, local defence units, special police constables and so on) accept petty bribes whenever raids take place – on average UGX 10,000 (US $6.1). If Masai are arrested, negotiation is still possible at the police station. Normally, the police officers charge a (rather high) bribe of UGX 50,000 (US $30.5) per person, which most Masai try to pay. Paying a bribe to the police is seen as more ‘reasonable’ than being sent to court, where bribing is not possible,Footnote ⁷ and where they are charged with idleness and abuse of alcohol and other drugs (but not miraa), which can result in a prison sentence.

The financial incentives for the security agencies however offer only a partial explanation as to why the Masai group is still allowed to continue its activities (chewing, selling, taking other drugs) in town. This paper argues that the main reasons why they are allowed to continue their activities are, firstly, their role in preventing criminal affairs within Bwera town and, secondly, their major role in the political sphere.

THE MASAI AND SOLVING CRIMINAL AFFAIRS

Key to understanding the role of the Masai as a vigilante group is the fact that there was a large group of unemployed, uneducated and landless people in Bwera, which led to increased insecurity within the town. A crucial event in this was the insurgency of the ADF or Allied Democratic Forces. The ADF was formed by remnants of a series of movements: the TabliqFootnote ⁸ (who had fled to western Uganda after imprisonment), the National Army for the Liberation of Uganda (NALU), and the Rwenzururu movement. The last two were based in the Ruwenzori Mountains on the border between Congo and Uganda. This became the ADF's area of operation, from where it waged an insurgency against the Ugandan government between 1997 and 2000, in which large parts of the population were displaced through the use of random terror.Footnote ⁹ The movement had little local support, but was mainly based in the area because of its strategic location: a mountainous area on the border with the DRC. The ADF received support from the Sudanese government and Mobutu's Zaïre – and, according to some sources, from Al Qaeda and other radical Islamists (Hovil & Werker Reference Hovil and Werker2005). By 2000, the movement was largely defeated and had retreated to their camps in the DRC, where they remain to this day.

Although the Masai already existed some time before the ADF insurgency, it was around this period that they gained importance as a vigilante group: the insurgency had created an explosive situation with a heightened degree of conflict and a corresponding need for vigilante and informal justice mechanisms within Bwera town. Much of this had to do with the influx of refugees into Bwera. With over 30,500 displaced persons at the height of the conflict, almost doubling the sub-county population of 38,000 inhabitants, Bwera was the worst-hit among the different sub-counties of Kasese district.Footnote ¹⁰ Although ADF units were either wiped out or pushed back into the DRC by late 2002, people strongly suspected that remnants were still active in the Ruwenzori Mountains.Footnote ¹¹ As a result, many people have never returned to their homes in the mountains but instead chose to remain in town. There has also been an influx of Congolese refugees throughout the years. Meanwhile the high land pressure in Kasese districtFootnote ¹² and the decline of traditional cash crops (cotton and coffee) had already caused a large group of unemployed, landless and often uneducated people to move to Bwera town in search of employment. On top of this, many parents were no longer able to send their children to school during and after the insurgency, through which many children (especially adolescents) ended up on the streets, consuming drugs such as khat or cannabis. This led to a volatile situation which resulted in higher rates of conflict and criminality, in particular theft and rape. The existing police agencies were not equipped (in terms of materials and manpower) to deal with this new situation of higher population and crime levels. Moreover, many of the offences have a cross-border nature, as criminals often cross the border to Congo, which is only 2 kilometres from Bwera town. The next section argues how, unlike the existing security agencies, the Masai proved instrumental in controlling crime levels within town.

The Masai are very much a product of this social context of Bwera town, as they are a group of uneducated, landless ‘rough and dangerous’ young men who take illegal drugs and are considered very prone to criminality. As Beckerleg argues (2006: 238–9):

The latter phrase is nevertheless a good description of the Masai, wild youth for whom miraa is their ‘core business’, but who also consume and sell other drugs, such as cannabis, fuel fumes and (more hidden) cocaine. This further contributes to their dangerous and violent image: the Masai are seen locally as bayaya (stubborn and dangerous people) who can easily be drawn into criminal affairs.

Although the Masai are a dangerous and potentially criminal group, their engagement in criminal affairs within the town would disturb the fragile equilibrium in which they are allowed to continue their activities. In particular, the general image of the illegality of miraa has a profound impact on the ways in which they conduct their activities: the Masai regard their own activities as illegal and so conduct them with relative caution and discretion, in order to protect and continue them.Footnote ¹³ Most important, they have an elaborate code of conduct and play a major role in curbing crime in town: misbehaviour among the members within town is not tolerated, and they have been effective in tackling increased urban criminality. A senior security officer of the district summarises: ‘They take punitive measures towards their members to protect themselves!’ (District security officer 2006 int.). Moreover, as the majority of the Masai members originate from Bwera/Kasese, there is a strong feeling among the Masai that ‘we cannot make mistakes here in town. If we do, we have no other place to go’ (Masai member 2 2006 int.). This fundamental paradox, in which the Masai are considered a threat to local order, but on the other hand constitute a localised struggle against criminalisation and disorder, is at the core of understanding the conduct of the Masai and the local authorities in Bwera town. The Masai, for example, proved instrumental in bringing down the high levels of urban criminality during the major influx of IDPs in Bwera town during the ADF insurgency. In case of theft or criminal offences, they are preferred to the police, as they are seen as more efficient and less corrupt.

They are effective for several reasons. Firstly, they seek to control crime within the Masai association. As the Masai are a group at the margins of society, considered ‘rough and dangerous’ with little employment and education, it is obvious that they are highly vulnerable to involvement in criminal affairs. However, through their hierarchical and united structure, they have a code of conduct that enforces respect and discipline within their association. If a member has committed a crime, the Masai sit together to decide what action to take against that member. These consultations are led by their leader Jamali and the ‘upper layer’ of the elder Masai, but any other Masai are free to join. If found guilty, the member may receive corporal punishment or be expelled from the association. If the police want to arrest a member, the Masai organise a similar consultation with different possible outcomes: the group can either prevent arrest and punish the member themselves; or resist arrest because the Masai are convinced of the member's innocence. About one third of the Masai are former security operatives (ex-vigilantes, local defence units, special police constables, soldiers and so on) – they are therefore considered violent and dangerous men who know how to use weapons, and are also feared by the police – ‘Because they can strangle you to death!’ (Police security officer 2006 int.). Moreover, through their close contact with other urban informal groups (such as fuel smugglers, boda boda drivers and prostitutes), they can swiftly raise chaos in town in protest at decisions made by the government authorities or security agencies. Therefore, if the Masai decide somebody should not be arrested, it simply does not happen in the majority of the cases – even if security agencies come with force. The Masai can nevertheless decide to hand over the member to the police and expel him from the association. This happens when the member has failed to respect the internal rules of the Masai through misconduct in Bwera town (such as theft), or when he has neglected the rules in the internal Masai sphere, for example by showing disrespect to the leadership. A good illustration was an event during the field research in which traders in cosmetic products, staying in a hotel in Bwera town, had most of their products stolen from their van by some of the Masai boys. The owner of the hotel contacted the Masai, which quickly found out which boys had broken into the vehicle. The boys were arrested by the group, beaten severely, and the property was recovered. There was therefore no reason to take the case to the police. Other cases involved similar scenarios, in which boys ‘had overtaken drugs and broken into people's home; and they were caned seriously! They are not allowed to do this in town!’ (Local trader 1 2005 int.).

Secondly, the Masai's organisational structure often acts as an informal tribunal for solving conflicts, as other urban informal groups use the association for solving their criminal and domestic cases.Footnote ¹⁴ If a member of any of these groups such as the ‘Khadafis’ (fuel smugglers) or the boda boda taxi drivers break their respective codes of conduct, they are most often brought to the Masai. The ‘Khadafis’ for example use the Masai when one of them has stolen fuel from one of his colleagues or in cases of domestic violence. As these groups have no strict organisational structure (they have no pressing need to control their members), and as the higher-level Masai are much respected within town, they rely on the Masai's judgements for resolving conflicts.Footnote ¹⁵ According to the Masai, certain minor cases such as domestic conflicts are sometimes even referred to them by the police.Footnote ¹⁶

Thirdly, through their central geographical location in town and their social position at the axis of many networks, they access many people and are always aware of what is happening in town. For example, their leader Jamali is closely related to the various branches of government such as local councils, security agents, judiciary and so on. These governmental agents use him to approach actors within the urban informal sphere, and vice versa. Moreover, the Masai have many contacts within the ‘underworld’ of Kasese and the wider (cross-border) region. This is due partly to their involvement in the drug trade, but also to the fact that many thieves belonged to the Masai at some stage. So when a criminal offence occurs, the Masai are able to quickly approach their informants. Through these contacts, they proved crucial in tracing ADF recruitment among the Salaf-Tabliq sect in Bwera and Kasese. They found recruitment pamphlets, passed information to local security agents and identified the leaders. In sum, contacts with these other groups are both class-inspired (‘underworld lumpen’) and instrumental, i.e. the Masai perform useful functions for all these other groups, so the other groups cooperate with them.Footnote ¹⁷

Fourthly, because of the miraa chewing, the Masai are always awake late into the night. As many crimes happen during these hours, they can be swiftly approached for help. On numerous occasions, thefts occurred at night, after which the victims went to the Synagogi, and the Masai were called upon as an intervening force.

Lastly, they are considered ‘dangerous and stubborn’, and according to a police officer (2006 int.) ‘as a group unbeatable’: while they are already difficult to handle as individuals, when acting as a group it is impossible to resist their power. Much of their strength lies in their unity. This is again related to their centralised hierarchical structure, in which Jamali has a high degree of control over the organisation. All the above functions happen strictly through him: consultations within the association, with other groups, their vigilance activities and so on. This makes them extremely effective in the use of physical strength. As a Masai member (Masai member 1 2006 int.) argues: ‘At times the thieves do beat the policeman; but he cannot beat a gang of us. The police is always one; we are always many.’ If a thief is caught, he is either punished by the Masai, or taken to the police. Punishment by the Masai is seen as ‘more effective’ than the police: whereas one can easily bribe the police to escape punishment, there is no escape from the corporal punishment of the Masai (strokes of the cane and other beatings).

THE MASAI AND BWERA AS A BORDER TOWN

The role of the Masai is closely related to the position of Bwera, on the border with the DRC, next to the important Congolese border market of Kasindi. Together with Aru, Kasindi is the main border market on the Ugandan–Congolese border (Johnson & Tegera Reference Johnson and Tegera2007; Raeymaekers Reference Raeymaekers2007; Titeca Reference Titecain prep.), and historically has been an important trading post for the distribution of goods into eastern Congo. These goods originate from places such as Dubai, Hong Kong or China and arrive in the port of Mombasa, from where they are transported to the Kenyan–Ugandan border town of Busia, pass through Uganda, and finally arrive in Kasindi. From Kasindi onwards, goods are not only distributed into eastern Congo, but also smuggled back into Uganda, and more specifically to Bwera. This allows traders to dodge Ugandan taxes, as goods on transit to the DRC (Kasindi) are exempt from Ugandan taxes. From Bwera, goods are distributed back into south-western and central Uganda. The most popular smuggled goods are batteries, lotions, cigarettes, kithenke (women's fabrics), motorcycles and fuel. Bwera town has therefore grown in parallel to the border market of Kasindi: it is the last Ugandan stop before Kasindi, and the main distribution point for goods smuggled from Kasindi. Bwera's economy is therefore closely connected to that of Kasindi. Most of the population of Bwera is involved in cross-border trade, and many farmers also sell their goods in Kasindi.

The Masai also developed in response to the location of Bwera in the regional cross-border economy. Much of the cross-border trade occurs with varying degrees of illegality; and as already noted, Bwera functions as a major dispatching point for the (re)distribution of goods to Uganda. The Masai are useful for smugglers in two ways. Firstly, as an ‘underworld police force’; and secondly, as ‘technical assistants for the smugglers’: transporters, informers and so on.

Traders who smuggle goods across the border are acting strictly outside the legal framework, and cannot therefore resort to the protection of state agencies (police, army and so on) if anything goes wrong. On the contrary, since the trade is illegal, everyone involved is liable to prosecution. As Gambetta (Reference Gambetta1993: 226) argues, this has many consequences:

Vigilante groups characteristically emerge when the police fail to protect citizens (Anderson Reference Anderson2002; Baker Reference Baker2002a; Buur Reference Buur2006; Heald Reference Heald1986; Meagher Reference Meagher2007). In the case of smuggling, the state does not fail to protect, but is simply not allowed to protect the actors and their property. If something goes wrong, there is no court to which these smugglers can appeal. This is where the Masai step in: the protection of the private property of the smugglers is one of the most important services which the Masai ‘produce, promote and sell’ (Mutongi Reference Mutongi2006: 559), similar to the Mafia in different parts of the world (Gambetta Reference Gambetta1993; Varese Reference Varese2001). A smuggler whose goods are stolen cannot resort to the police, but he can resort to the Masai, who act as an ‘alternative police force’. For example, during the period of field research the goods of one smuggler (dry cell batteries) had been stolen by his transporters. The trader therefore contacted the Masai, who started their own investigations and eventually recovered the goods, for which they were given a financial reward of about UGX 20,000.

In this context, the Masai information network is not limited to Bwera town. On the one hand, they are well connected with the Congolese side of the border, which allows them to solve cross-border crimes. Much of this has to do with the fact that the same ethnic group lives on both sides of the border, but was divided by colonialism – the Bakanzo on the Ugandan side and the Nande on the Congolese side. Many people have family on both sides of the border, and so do the Masai. For example, their leader Jamali comes from a polygamous familial background, and his father had two wives on the Congolese side of the border. Through this family connection, Jamali has many contacts on the Congolese side. On top of this, the Masai frequently interact with the ‘underworld’ of the Congolese border zone, for example by selling miraa to them. In this situation, the Masai are very effective in solving cross-border crimes: they are not only able to trace stolen smuggled goods, but can solve general cross-border crimes in the area. Whenever theft occurs, the culprits most often quickly cross the nearby border to the DRC. Whereas the police are not very successful in solving these ‘cross-border crimes’, the elaborate Masai trans-border network proves far more effective than either the Ugandan or Congolese police. The Masai are often consulted by the police to solve such crimes.

The Masai are similarly well connected with Busia, the entry point for goods into Uganda from Kenya. In this way, their information network extends across the whole chain of the cross-border trade, which allows them to intervene in case of any problem. The connection with Busia started with individual Masai accompanying Congolese traders to Busia; soon afterwards a number of them began working in Busia. There are about fifty Masai working in Busia, doing petty jobs such as loading and offloading. The Masai in Busia do not form a single group as in Bwera, but there is a clear connection with the Masai in Bwera: in case of difficulties along the trading chain, they are asked for help. Similarly, Masai who have to leave Bwera because they have misbehaved and/or are hunted by the police are transferred to Busia by the leadership. In Busia, Congolese traders prefer working with Masai rather than with local people, simply because the Masai speak the same language as the Congolese traders, as they belong to the same ethnic group.

The second important function of the Masai is as ‘technical assistants’ of the smugglers. As explained above, the Masai are at the centre of much of the information in Bwera town: they are aware of everything that happens and particularly of anything to do with security. They know about all the operations of all the anti-smuggling agencies (the Special Revenue Protection Services, mobile police, army and so on). This makes them excellent associates for the smugglers: they are not only able to inform them about the movements of the anti-smuggling agencies, but are also used to transport smuggled goods across the border.

PROTECTION AS A ‘DOUBLE-EDGED SWORD’

The above sections have described how the Masai play positive roles in the governance of Bwera town and in the cross-border trading networks: they protect the inhabitants of Bwera and the actors in the cross-border trade. This does not mean that this form of community policing is necessarily better than state policing. The danger of protection in this situation is well described by Charles Tilly (Reference Tilly1990 in Raeymaekers Reference Raeymaekers2007: 119–20), who argues that protection can be a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it resembles shelter provided by a powerful friend, yet on the other hand it evokes a racket in which a local strongman forces people to pay tribute in order to avoid damage, mainly inflicted by himself. Once problems are encountered with this ‘powerful friend/local strongman’, there is nowhere else to turn. This is also the case for clients of the Masai community policing practices. Once people disagree with the Masai, they cannot challenge them or complain to the police or any other authorities, as the Masai and their informal judgements are part of the ‘negotiated reality’ between both sides. This process is firmly outside the legal sphere, and unavoidably breaches people's legal and constitutional rights. Although no examples of such cases were discovered, this diminished accountability (Baker Reference Baker2002a) is a serious downside to the Masai's community justice strategy.

Another major problem with the vigilante tactics of the Masai is that, although this code of conduct is enforced and effective in preventing crime within Bwera town, the Masai remain engaged in criminal activities outside town. It is a basic rule that a Masai member is punished if he commits a crime in Bwera town, but is allowed to commit thefts across the border or a reasonable distance outside Bwera town. As a Masai member (Masai member 3 2006 int.) summarises:

For crimes committed outside town, things are much more unpredictable, as there are no clear rules of conduct for them. Much depends on the specific negotiation on the issue: sometimes it is possible to recover (part of) the goods, sometimes not. For example, on one occasion during the field research a Masai boy was offloading dried fish for a trader across the border; but he managed to steal the trader's money – some UGX 3 million (US $1831.5). When the trader realised his money was stolen, he asked the Masai to assist him in retrieving it. The other Masai members however informed the Local Defence Units (LDUs) about the boy's theft; after which the LDUs came to arrest him. The LDUs and the Masai boy came to an agreement in which part of the money was shared between them, and part of the money returned to the owner. In other cases, the thieves and the Masai share the spoils among themselves. It can therefore be argued that, in a rather cynical way, much of the Masai's effectiveness in solving cross-border crimes is a result of their engagement in the criminal sphere outside town. In a similar way, it can be argued that crime is simply pushed outside the urban centre of Bwera, and that the reduction of crime within town may be proportional to increased criminality outside it. In brief, the Masai not only help to find criminals in Bwera town, but are engaged in criminality themselves outside town. What does this tell us about the nature of the association? This is discussed in the next section.

VIGILANTE OR CRIMINAL ‘GANG’?

It should now be clear that the Masai's activities in community protection arise not out of altruism, but rather out of self-interest, in order to preserve their activities and organisation: the Masai feel they have to ‘behave’ in order to continue their illegal activities of khat and marijuana. Secondly, it is clear that their activities, especially their involvement in crime outside town, have a number of negative effects. This brings us to a major question: though the Masai's engagement in community protection within Bwera, can they really be called vigilantes? Are they not just a criminal ‘gang’? In other words, are they acting in the interest of the community or for their own private interest? Their activities in the protection of smuggled goods prove insightful on this. On the one hand, this protection of smuggled goods can also be seen as a vigilante activity in response to a popular need by the community: vigilantes come into being to counter activities which are destructive for the local community, but which are not covered by the penal code. Buur (Reference Buur2006) for example shows this with regard to witchcraft, which is considered criminal by the community, but is not covered by the penal code. This ‘popular demand’ can be met not only by a vigilante, but also by a criminal ‘gang’. The raison d'être of organised crime is strikingly similar to that of vigilantes: ‘providing protection when the state does not’. Skaperdas (Reference Skaperdas2001) identifies similar reasons why a criminal organisation comes into being, one of them being the prohibition of certain goods: the illegal nature of goods creates a power vacuum around them (for example with regard to the enforcement of property rights), which is filled by criminal organisations. The principal difference is that, for organised crime, protection is an economic commodity, i.e. the final goal is private financial gain rather than the protection of the community as such. Another difference is that the criminal organisation plays a major role in creating the demand: they respond to popular demand, but will make sure the demand is there, for example by threatening non-payers and consumers. In other words, organised criminals are often engaged in extortion: they offer protection, but they are the ones you have to be protected against (Gambetta Reference Gambetta1993; Varese Reference Varese2001).

It has been shown above how crimes committed in Bwera defy traditional legal classifications. Theft of smuggled goods by transporters is considered criminal by the community but is not covered by legal penal codes, and this is where the Masai offer their services. In other words, they counter activities which contribute to community disorder; a community in which the vast majority is engaged in the ‘illegal’ – yet perceived legitimate – activities of cross-border trade. Yet, similar to criminal organisations, the Masai try to push out of business traders who do not make use of their services: they use several tactics against people who do not want to buy their ‘product’ of protection, in order to increase their market share (Gambetta Reference Gambetta1993). As they are at the axis of most of the information in the cross-border area, they know who is crossing the border without them. The most common way to ‘punish’ these traders is by informing the Uganda Revenue Authorities (URA): traders who are not using their services for smuggling goods are disclosed to the URA. In other words, the Masai are engaged in extortion of some kind: they make sure the demand is there, by creating the demand themselves. This has two advantages for the Masai: firstly, it forces smugglers to work with them; and secondly, it gives them direct financial profit – informers are given 20% of the recovered taxes.Footnote ¹⁸ The Masai's activities in providing protection for smugglers can therefore be considered organised criminality rather than vigilante activities, as they are inspired by private financial gain rather than responding to community demands. In other words, they contribute to order in the cross-border trading networks, but at a cost: you are forced to buy their services, or you face much higher costs, which may result in the loss of your goods. Lastly, the Masai are engaged in criminal activities of a different kind: theft outside town, where they are known as particularly dangerous thieves and criminals.

All this suggests that they are a criminal organisation rather than a vigilante group. They use vigilance tactics within town, but are not vigilantes per se. They can be considered a criminal organisation which uses vigilante tactics as a self-preservation measure in order to allow their smuggling and general criminal activities, and the consumption and trade of de facto and de jure illegal drugs (respectively miraa and marijuana).

This analysis makes it even more puzzling why the Masai are tolerated in Bwera: they are engaged in a range of criminal activities, yet they are freely allowed to stay in town, and engage in a range of criminal activities. The authorities must be aware of this, yet they allow these activities to continue. The next section argues that their central role in the local political sphere is crucial in explaining this.

THE MASAI AND THE LOCAL POLITICAL SPHERE: ‘MY LIFE IS POLITICS AND MAIRUNGI!’Footnote ¹⁹

The Masai see their situation as one of complete marginalisation, as a direct result of the neglect and failure of the government: they are harassed by the security forces and the government is unable to provide them and the majority of the population with employment. Moreover, the government has been unable to provide security during past and more recent ADF insurgencies. The Masai have therefore historically always supported the opposition forces in the district, and strongly consider themselves ‘marginalized critics of corrupt rulers’ (Reno Reference Reno2002: 838). As argued in the introduction, these feelings are also reflected in their names: like the Kenyan Masai and the Biblical Synagogi, they are resisting dominant powers. The introductory quote of Jamali, the leader of the Masai, illustrates how they act as political agents for opposition politicians during electoral campaigns and have strong political influence, both upwards towards politicians, and downwards among the wider population. Although elements of other informal groups, such as the boda boda drivers, have been co-opted by government politicians, the Masai have consistently favoured the opposition. Government politicians who actively support them are not boycotted, but nor is this support reciprocated. Those (government) politicians who do not support or who actively disturb them are harassed by the Masai. They are for example notorious for throwing litter at certain government politicians from whom they have never received assistance or whom they suspect of having ordered their arrests.

The Masai's political importance has several reasons, many of which concern their increased vigilance during electoral periods. Firstly, Bwera has a very dense political circle, rife with accusations and counter-accusations of fraudulent behaviour. On the one hand, pro-government supporters are a minority in the area and complain about being socially ostracised. On the other hand, opposition supporters complain about continuous intimidation and violence by security agencies, and the use of these agencies for fraudulent electoral practices. Most importantly, opposition supporters fear openly disclosing their political side – something which clearly manifested itself during the author's research on the local political situation, as most of them refused to openly discuss politics, fearing retaliation by security agencies. The Masai are different from this: as ‘stubborn and fearless’ people, they do not fear political intimidation and hence are not afraid to reveal their political affiliation. They are therefore important campaigning agents for opposition politicians during election campaigns for the opposition. Moreover, through their many connections with governmental security agencies, the Masai can make a risk-assessment of events organised by the opposition. This detailed ‘insider’ knowledge of the state bureaucracies not only increases their legitimacy among the wider population, but also makes them valuable political agents for opposition forces, informed about possible actions against the latter, for example if meetings will be interrupted by the security agencies. In this sense, they act as a (non-governmental) protection force for opposition politicians.

Secondly, the Masai have strong political influence among marginalised urban groups such as boys working in the transport sector, street sellers, fuel smugglers, sex workers, miraa and cannabis consumers and so on. These marginalised groups constitute a large majority of the population in Bwera town, and therefore play an important role in the election process. As a local security officer (2006 int.) comments:

Their political influence and legitimacy is linked to a number of factors: their role as vigilantes in curbing crime and informal justice, in connecting youth with opportunities for informal employment, but in particular in protecting other marginalised urban groups, which in turn has to do with their position as a ‘fearless’ group with many connections with government agencies. For example, whenever tax collection is taking place, the Masai discover the details of this collection, and report these to other informal associations in town. If law enforcement officers still unexpectedly come to grab goods by force from street traders refusing to pay tax, the Masai act as a protective force for these traders.

The Masai influence not only marginalised urban groups with whom they closely cooperate, but also the wider population within Bwera town. Through their central location and their service provision (a variety of people come to buy miraa), they reach large numbers of people. As a major politician comments: ‘People respect these youth. Virtually everyone is emotionally attached to them. People understand them: these are youth struggling for employment; and there is so little employment in the area!’ (Local politician 2006 int.) This respect is also connected to their role as vigilantes. As Smith (Reference Smith2004: 438) argues, vigilantes have a symbolic ‘superhero status’ which legitimises their actions and ensures widespread popular support. As a result of this respected status in the local political imagination, politicians regard them as ‘opinion setters’ (Local politician 2006 int.) and ‘centre points’ (Local trader 2 2006 int.). The Masai regard themselves as political kingmakers ‘because we interact with so many people and we know so many secrets no one else knows in town’ (Masai leader Jamali 2006 int.). In this situation, and as mentioned earlier, the Masai act as politicians' campaigning agents – not only for reasons of security, but also because they are seen as important actors in ‘morale boosting’, as people with ‘convincing tongues’ (Motorcycle taxi driver 2006 int.) who can easily convince people who to vote for. In brief, in their role as opinion leaders and representatives of marginalised urban groups, they can be considered important representatives of civil society within Bwera town – although such associations are considered the ‘uncool’ (Comaroff & Comaroff Reference Comaroff, Comaroff, Comaroff and Comaroff2000: 22) side of African civil society.Footnote ²⁰

In return for the political support of the Masai, politicians negotiate with the local government about their status: they lobby security agencies and councils to ensure that the Masai are allowed to continue their activities of selling and chewing miraa. As a senior security officer of Kasese district (2006 int.) summarises the situation:

On the contrary, politicians work closely with them and assist them with their problems. One of the most important local politicians, who was using the Masai as a day-to-day campaign team and who used them in drafting his election manifesto, argued: ‘It is our work to help them and connect them, and help them outside of the judicial process. So I would go to the police and I would tell them: these people have no other option, we need to re-educate them, we should bring them awareness. And we would agree on this’ (Local politician 2006 int.). By supporting particular politicians, the Masai hope to influence policy, not only on miraa, but also on broader issues affecting them or other marginal urban groups. Moreover, the Masai hope that once a politician is elected, he will not only tolerate their business, but also support them and make use of their services and goods. To some extent this already happens, in that the Masai organise the security and management of several politicians' houses in the area; and the politicians strongly rely on the services of the fuel smugglers and boda boda taxis. They also receive financial and material support from these politicians: individual Masai can approach the politicians with their individual problems such as hospital costs or school fees. Politicians have also introduced them to micro-finance activities or training such as brick-making.

Confiscation in this situation becomes almost farcical, in that sellers and consumers are often informed about security agency raids (by government agencies or politicians); while government agencies carry out these raids because they are obliged to (by the local councils) but first inform the Masai. A good example of this was the reintroduction of the Special Police Constables (SPCs) before the 2006 elections. They were mobilised for the elections; and as a kind of refresher training, they had to smoke out the cannabis and miraa activities in town. Through their many governmental connections, the Masai were informed about this plan, and easily escaped arrest. Only a few non-affiliated consumers were arrested while the actual Masai were left untouched. It shows how these arrests were only a smokescreen: the SPCs carried out these raids because it was a national order, while the key actors (the Masai group) were left untouched. Through their contacts with local politicians and other governmental figures, the Masai rely on insider knowledge in the construction of local governance and the regulation of violence.

These patrimonial relations are highly beneficial to both politicians (and government actors in general) and the Masai: they relieve the state of the cost of providing security and garner support for politicians. In return, politicians make sure the Masai's illegal activities are tolerated. Yet such patrimonial relations also have their downside: as argued above, they reduce accountability, and permit crimes committed outside town. The relationship between the politicians and Masai can also be considered rather problematic: by cooperating with the Masai as a local vigilante force, and assisting in handing over thieves to the local authorities, the politicians try to gain respect from their constituencies (cf. Heald Reference Heald1986), but at the same time may share the ‘spoils’ in a sort of protection racket, in which many people are left out. Moreover, as going against the Masai is not useful from an electoral point of view, politicians do not constitute a ‘check’ against potential malpractices of the Masai, which further contributes to the reduced accountability of the group.

* * *

The recent literature on vigilantes highlights how these groupings operate on a sliding scale from ‘order’ to ‘disorder’, and from the defence of public to more private interests. In the introduction, it was asked why vigilantes contribute either to a social order, or to crime. The case of the Masai demonstrates that this is not necessarily an either/or question, but that social order and crime may coexist: they are a criminal gang of illegal drug traffickers, who extend their initial private security/protection function towards public community interests and so become ‘vigilance actors’. Firstly, the literature on vigilance proves useful in analysing how the Masai contribute to order and public authority in Bwera town, as it highlights the importance of the relationship with the wider institutional environment in contributing to (dis)order. Secondly, the Masai contribute to order in one place (Bwera), while doing exactly the opposite outside the town, because their vigilance activities are primarily informed by self-interest, in order to allow their criminal activities to continue. In sum, they can be considered a criminal gang which manages to strike a balance between private and public concerns: the Masai continue their private criminal concerns, while contributing to order within the community of Bwera town.

With regard to the first finding, the Masai contribute to the shaping of public authority within Bwera town. Central to this is an on-going negotiation between the Masai on the one hand and local government authorities and politicians on the other. Public authority is negotiated between these two actors: this process (or ‘figuration’) produces a range of rules and codes which must be respected for this negotiation to continue, and which are central to the production of governance in the town. A basic underlying premise in this ‘negotiated reality’ is that the Masai form an (ambiguous) illegal entity. They are treated and perceived this way by the authorities, and also by the Masai themselves. This situation informs the continuous negotiation with the local authorities: the Masai have to respect certain basic rules, otherwise their activities would simply no longer be tolerated. First and most obviously, these basic rules are materially/financially mediated. As explained above, security agencies benefit financially from khat activities, as they receive regular bribes from the Masai. In fact, security agents are very much part of the miraa ‘complex’, in that there are always security agents (police, Local Defence Units, Special Police Constables and so on) hanging around the Synagogi, chewing mairungi, accepting petty bribes and even actively participating in the author's discussions on miraa. A second rule which they must respect is that they cannot overcrowd the Synagogi, or they will be arrested by local authorities.Footnote ²¹ Thirdly, a golden rule is that the Masai cannot engage in criminal activities within the town. If they were to do so, the security agencies would have to break the fragile equilibrium and end their activities. The Masai therefore play an important role in controlling crime within the town.

Engagement in criminal activities outside the town and across the border does not disturb this equilibrium, as it allows the local authorities to turn a blind eye to this. This would be impossible if the Masai committed these crimes within the town. There are however certain areas in which the Masai cannot engage. Grave offences such as murder are for example not the domain of the group. If a murder is committed, they cannot (and do not want to) pass any judgement. Neither do they use their internal mechanisms of conflict resolution if one of their members has committed a grave offence such as murder, but leave the case to the police. Security as a public good within Bwera town is therefore negotiated and provided both by the state institutions and the Masai. Each actor has its responsibilities. These responsibilities are informal, but are nevertheless very clear for both sides: whereas the Masai are the most important actor for ‘minor’ criminal offences, grave cases are left to the governmental security agencies. The Masai are therefore similar to what Lund (Lund Reference Lund2006a, Reference Lund2006b) calls ‘twilight institutions’, defying clear-cut state/society public/private distinctions, institutions which are not part of government, which are not even considered legal – yet which exercise major public authority functions. This is particularly the case in the field of security and justice, where the Masai have ‘certain forms of institutionalization and formalization of the exercise of authority alluding to state, law and the bureaucracy, encoded in official language and often exercised with the paraphernalia of modern statehood’ (Lund Reference Lund2006a: 679). The regulation of violence within the public space of Bwera town can therefore be seen as a ‘functional oligopoly’, with a ‘fluctuating number of partly competing, partly co-operating actors of violence of different quality. In this context, ruling is based on a mixture of real repression and permanent readiness to negotiate’ (Mehler Reference Mehler2004: 2).

The second main point of the article concerns the criminal character of the organisation, which needs some further consideration. As argued in the introduction, the micro-politics of vigilance involves protecting members of the community within its boundaries and taking action against any threats to it. The Masai certainly do this. The protected ‘community’ is not only Bwera town, where they are considered a community police force by the inhabitants, but also the ‘community’ of cross-border traders, where they undertake similar actions to protect the property rights of smugglers. However, when analysing the Masai's overall activities, one can only conclude that they are primarily a criminal organisation: they threaten ‘their’ community, in particular the cross-border traders, whom they force to work with them. The main explanation as to why they do not commit similar acts against the Bwera population can be explained in terms of the ‘figuration’ in which they are embedded in town: as they are perceived to be ‘illegal’ (or rather illegitimate) drug users, they put a lot of effort in countering this image by tackling crime within and outside the organisation. This was particularly the case during the ADF insurgency, when there was a higher degree of urban criminality, and they filled a popular need for anti-crime measures. This community policing role, together with their important political function, in turn allows them to continue their illegal activities. Their vigilance activities can therefore be seen as an instrument of self-preservation, which gives them the necessary support of the local population and politicians: by remaining ‘embedded’ in this figuration, they protect themselves. Political protection, above all else, enables them to continue their activities. In sum, the specific ‘figurations’ within Bwera town empower certain groups in society and prevent the eruption of political chaos, but allow organised crime to continue, with regard both to smuggling activities and to general criminality outside the town.