On the history of the Nubians, see Kokole, 1985.
6. On Awich, see the biography by Reuben S. Anywar, an Acholi ethnographer and historian (1948).
7. On the history of the Acholi in the colonial period, see Dwyer (1972).
8. There are fragments of evidence showing how, in Uganda’s history, the stereotype of the warlike Nilotics arose in contrast to that of the peaceful Bantu peasants. The establishment of the one stereotype produced the other like a mirror. Both entered into scholarly discourse and became part of mute practices (Habermas, 1985:284) that entered that discourse in turn. Thus, the Annual Report of 1905 maintained that it was almost impossible to recruit soldiers in Acholi because the chiefs did not want to lose the service of their men.
The Annual Report of the Northern Province of 1911–12 notes: ‘Experience, when circumstances recently necessitated our using Acholi as native levies, has proved that the Acholi is not a brave man; but when drilled and disciplined, and a rifle on his shoulder, he may subsequently prove of use . . . I would advocate his being drafted to any unit other than those that may be stationed in Acholi country, as from experience I know the Acholi are unreliable when it comes to police measures to be taken against their own kith and kin. The Acholi youth has a wonderful ear for martial music.’ (26; emphasis added). Here ‘the Acholi’ is not yet brave, but at least he already likes to listen to martial music.
In 1916, a Northern Recruiting Depot was established in Gulu to recruit soldiers for the King’s African Rifles. In July 1916, 113 soldiers were recruited from the whole district and hundreds of others who volunteered were turned down (Northern Province Monthly Report, July 1916). In May 1917, 400 KAR recruits left Gulu; thereafter, due to a meningitis epidemic, the depot was transferred from Gulu to Arua and men were recruited less from Gulu than from Kitgum, called Chua at the time, and from the West Nile District. In 1918, only a few isolated Acholi were recruited from Gulu on 18 April, 2 May, and 12 July; but these were mustered out again due to chickenpox.
In 1919 and 1920, the KAR soldiers who had fought in and survived the First World War returned to Acholi; trade boomed due to the money they brought back with them, for ‘large sums have been paid as war gratuities to the natives of the district who served during the Great War in the KAR’.
In the 1911–12 Report, ‘the future possible utility of the Acholi as material for police’ is noted.
At the beginning of the Second World War, the Annual Reports of the Provincial Commissioners on Native Administration 1939–46 noted: ‘Although in all Districts the native rulers, governments and chiefs and people all immediately expressed their loyalties to the Empire and their willingness to help in any way possible, it was the able-bodied men of the Nilotic area who put this into practical effect by coming forward in large numbers as recruits for essentially fighting units of the Army.’
And in 1946 it was determined that the Nilotics were ‘a more fighting race’, although in fact the number of men taken into the army was higher for the Bantu region than for the Nilotic area. While the Bantu, with a population of about 1,075,000, provided about 20,000 men, the Nilotes, with 777,000, provided only 13,000.
Three
The Crisis 1
At particular times, single individuals are able to gain a certain freedom, detachment, or separation from hitherto dominant ideas and practices. Ardener calls such times ‘periods of singularity’ (1989:148). They are characterized by paradigm shifts and epistemological fragmentation. At such times, prophets become noticeable, ‘because a category for the registration of the condition then becomes a necessity’ (ibid). Prophets appear at other times as well, but find no, or only limited, recognition; they remain silent.
This chapter elaborates on some characteristics of the ‘period of singularity’ that led to the emergence of the Holy Spirit Movement. First it describes the political history that provided the preconditions for the catastrophic situation in Acholi, and thus for the emergence of the HSM. Then – in contrast – it presents two discourses which attempt to explain the misfortunes and violence in northern Uganda from a local perspective. In a sense, they are local crisis theories. At the heart of the first are ideas of witchcraft that pin the blame for the misfortunes on relatives or neighbours. At the centre of the second, carried on primarily by the elders, are ideas of purity and impurity, the latter originating in violations of the moral order.
The third part of the chapter relates a story which became the official myth of the origin of the Holy Spirit Movement. In this ‘Story of the Journey to Paraa’, Alice – or rather the spirit Lakwena,2 who took possession of Alice – describes the crisis in Acholi. Reinhart Koselleck has elucidated in an essay the semantic field of the term ‘crisis’ (1982:617ff.), including its juridical, theological, and medical usage. In the story of the journey to Paraa, crisis is used primarily in its juridical meaning, as a decision in the sense of administering justice and judging, in a manner properly termed critique. In Paraa, Lakwena sat in judgement, like a rwot or chief, over man and nature, handing down the decision to combat sinners. But an aspect of the theological meaning of crisis also shines through in the metaphor of the courtroom. For this court is, in a certain sense, a preliminary Last Judgment which also contains a promise of salvation.
Thus, the story of the journey to Paraa provides some of the local topics and images to which Alice had recourse in interpreting the crisis in Acholi. These images – rather than scientific categories – should guide the interpretation of the Holy Spirit Movement (cf., for example, Fernandez, 1979:40).
Political History
Uganda’s postcolonial history is one of violence and counterviolence. With the militarization of politics that had already begun under Obote in the 1960s, the state, which according to Hobbes ought to limit violence, has increasingly itself become an instrument of violent retaliation. Whoever took over state power was not only able to gain wealth, but also to take revenge – against members of other ethnic groups or religions – as in times before the existence of the state. The war of the Holy Spirit Movement must also be seen in this context.
After the Uganda National Liberation Army (UNLA) toppled Idi Amin’s government with the help of Tanzanian troops and Obote returned to power – allegedly by means of rigged elections – a brutal civil war broke out in Uganda. The Acholi fought primarily on the side of the government army (UNLA) against the National Resistance Army (NRA), led by Yoweri Museveni. In this period of civil war, in which the Acholi suffered great losses, the spirit Lakwena appeared in Acholi on 2 January 1985, taking possession of Alice Auma, a young woman of Gulu.
Rivalries within the UNLA – Acholi soldiers suspected Obote of sacrificing them in battle to no purpose, while filling leadership positions with members of his own ethnic group, the Langi – led to a coup against Obote. Under the command of the Acholi Bazilio Okello, predominantly Acholi soldiers, together with some from the West Nile District and Sudan who had served under Idi Amin and whom Bazilio had won over, took Lira and then, in July 1985, Kampala. When they reached Kampala, Obote had already left the city and fled to Tanzania. Tito Okello, also an Acholi, became the new President. This was the first time in the history of Uganda that Acholi had achieved state power, which they used, like others before them, to amass wealth and wreak vengeance (on the Langi, for example). After this victory, the UNLA disintegrated into marauding bands who divided Kampala among themselves and plundered wherever they went.
Although the Okellos had concluded a peace agreement with the NRA in Nairobi in December 1985 – to this day the Acholi refer to these peace talks as ‘peace jokes’ – the NRA marched on Kampala as early as January, and, with the UNLA no longer able to put
