Ah, Tanzania! A land of vast horizons, endless savannas, and wildlife that draws tourists from all over the world.
I have just returned from a photographic safari in West Africa, where, like a good privileged Western tourist, I contributed to the safari business by adding another jeep to the convoy of roaring vehicles in what were once vast and unspoiled grasslands. Is it unethical and inconsistent to prepare to write a piece on environmental protection after taking five flights to go pollute a natural paradise? Yes. Do I have the right, in my one life, to enjoy and participate in such beauty? Also yes. But that’s not entirely what I want to talk about.
As soon as you arrive in Tanzania, you immediately notice everywhere the looming photograph of Tanzania’s president, Samia Suluhu.
You see her once at the immigration office, a second time at the gas station, a third time at the roadside rest area, then in the bathrooms of restaurants, inside bags of chips, and even inscribed in the moon in the starry sky. And you might think, "Oh, how wonderfully quaint, a woman, Muslim, feminist, president of a very backward third-world country. The world is indeed a wonderful place; from poor and underdeveloped Africa rises a wave of progress, which makes us in the West, busy making laws about gender quotas on corporate boards, bow down and cover our heads with ashes."
Then your journey takes you to Ngorongoro, a place like no other on earth, a stunning landscape, a breathtaking natural paradise, which, since the dawn of mankind, or slightly less, has been the homeland of the Maasai. Yes, those Maasai we all remember from tourist photographs, tall and proud, dressed in their characteristic bright red shúkà, jumping high during their traditional dances. But the Maasai are not just a postcard attraction. They are a people with a millennia-old history, the proud and incorruptible warriors narrated by Karen Blixen, or more simply, a people who want to mind their own business on their own land, as more or less stipulated by all international norms on the principle of self-determination of peoples.
Yet, as you travel through Ngorongoro, you get the faint suspicion that something is amiss. The winding and scenic red dirt road that descends from Ngorongoro to Serengeti is crowded with Maasai walking along it in large numbers; then there are hundreds of Maasai gathered on the hills, Maasai sitting by the roadside. They look majestic, dignified, and stern, or rather… more than stern, they seem quite pissed off. A lot.
Then you encounter a procession of large, gleaming SUVs with flashing lights, policemen and soldiers hanging like bunches of grapes on the sides of the SUVs, raising a dust cloud and ordering every car they meet to get out of the way to facilitate the convoy's passage; more than ordering, they are shoving you off the road. Ten, twenty, fifty shiny and roaring SUVs, in a country where the newest and most expensive vehicle is a rusty Trabant with doors chewed up by the local cattle. All in line and very, very menacing.
And the suspicion starts to grip you that something doesn't add up.
But let’s take a couple of steps back.
The Maasai: A People on the Move
Let’s begin by understanding who the Maasai are, without any pretensions of anthropological expertise.
Traditionally, the Maasai are a nomadic pastoralist people living between Kenya and Tanzania. Their existence has been shaped by the lands they have traversed for centuries, a harmony between man and nature that few cultures can boast.
It seems that the reputation of the Maasai as a warrior people was due to some slander spread by the Arabs, who had some neighborly issues with this people in the past; in reality, the Maasai have always been more devoted to pastoralism than war. If they were this proud warrior people, their history probably wouldn’t be marked by a long tradition of land usurpation. Even Karen Blixen narrates at length about the Maasai's warlike virtues but fails to mention that as early as 1904, the British practically snatched away all the territory of today's Kenya and Kilimanjaro from them. If they were these intractable and belligerent individuals as has been said for centuries, perhaps these expropriations would have left some trace in history, as those perpetrated against the Zulus, who raised some objections to the British, or the Native Americans.
Anyway. In 2024, if you type "Maasai" into Google, you’ll find dozens of statements like this: "We have lived in harmony with wildlife for generations, and now we are told we must leave our land because someone else sees it as a playground." This testimony from Ole Taek, an elder of the Maasai community, was reported by Survival International, an organization working for the rights of indigenous peoples.
Eviction from the Land: Environmental Protection According to African Socialism
Back on the dusty roads of Ngorongoro. While watching the Maasai gather in droves on the hillsides, you ask your driver what is happening. "Is it a religious event? A historical reenactment? A tribal tradition? A clan gathering?" And he starts with a somewhat incoherent explanation that the Maasai have a penchant for pastoralism and proliferation, and the more the Maasai proliferate, the more they need livestock that takes grass away from wild species. The Maasai, he says, are now more than 7,000 (70.000 actually) and are too many for Ngorongoro. You hesitate for a moment, thinking that only the Serengeti National Park is almost as large as Northern Ireland, and these Maasai must have an insatiable appetite for milk and steaks to, with their livestock, pose a demographic problem for wildebeest, zebras, and gazelles (because elephants and giraffes don't graze). You try to ask who, and on what criteria, decides that 7,000 is "too many" instead of "too few," but just then comes the badass convoy of military, police, and dark-tinted windows, and the driver observes, "The entire Tanzanian government is here today."
And here we take a second step back to talk about the ever-present president, with a figure reminiscent of the Penguin from the Blues Brothers and Mrs. Trunchbull from Matilda.
Samia Suluhu Hassan is the first female president of Tanzania, succeeding John Magufuli in March 2021 after his death. Before becoming president, Samia Suluhu served as Vice President of Tanzania since 2015. Her political career began in the 1980s, with extensive experience at both regional and national levels, including roles as Minister for Tourism, Trade, and Investment in the semi-autonomous region of Zanzibar. Samia Suluhu is a member of the Chama Cha Mapinduzi (CCM) party, the dominant socialist party in Tanzania since its independence. Her presidency is often portrayed (in propagandistic terms?) as an attempt to bring more moderate change compared to her predecessor Magufuli, who was known for his authoritarian policies and tight control over press freedom and civil rights. However, the profession of these intentions does not seem to correspond to the reality of the facts, which seems to be much more in continuity with the brutal methods of her predecessor; despite the rhetorical proclamations that Hassan illustrates on public occasions, the early years of her presidency have been characterized by repression of opponents, police brutality, and restrictions on press freedom.
Shortly after her election, during a press conference, she was asked whether she intended to immediately initiate the much-pushed-for constitutional reform program, and the response was curt: no, the economy comes first. So, it’s no surprise that the current government of Tanzania, led by the strong-willed activist, seems to have embraced a strategy that views the Maasai more as an obstacle than an asset: "The Tanzanian government has decided to allocate these lands for conservation for tourism and hunting," stated Tanzania’s Minister of Natural Resources and Tourism, Damas Ndumbaro, in an official communiqué. "This decision has been made for the sake of our economic development." The Minister of Tourism's statement was echoed by the progressive, or self-styled, leader: "My government is committed to protecting our country's natural resources for future generations."
One might then say that the government of Tanzania, presided over by the determined activist, has charted a course that, albeit with somewhat coarse methods inevitable in such a backward country, pursues two commendable goals: economic growth, an indispensable prerequisite for the cultivation of civil rights, and the protection of the environmental heritage. A bit of realism suggests turning a blind eye if a few Maasai are evicted overnight from their huts without too many niceties.
Oh, sure.
Cue John McEnroe, the sublime Superbrat, and a black comedy that seems penned by the caustic pen of the Coen brothers.
In December 2023, the legendary tennis player (another self-styled democrat who, apparently, is willing to set aside civil and environmental rights if prompted by enough zeros) organized an exhibition in the Serengeti Park called Epic Tanzania Tour; the initiative is promoted by the Tanzanian government, represented by President Hassan and Carl Shephard, a former Obama aide and now a promoter of safaris for millionaires in Tanzania.
The initiative has raised some eyebrows; it has been said that the event is an instance of "sportswashing," setting up a glitzy sports showcase to mask mass abuses against an entire people.
Someone with a bit of cynicism might reply that, yes, promoting the safari industry with an event for ultra-millionaires while the Maasai are being evicted by burning down their huts is a bit crude and reprehensible, but nevertheless, safaris exist and bring in a lot of money, which is needed for environmental conservation. And who am I, having just returned from a safari in Tanzania, to criticize the economic exploitation of Africa's environmental heritage?
I appreciate the cynicism of the skeptical objector, but now comes the cherry, or rather, the watermelon on the cake. Get ready, because the epilogue of this story is almost admirable in its brazen audacity.
Remember the statements from the Minister of Tourism and President Hassan? "Our priority is to attract foreign investments for the country's development"? Once the lands were freed from the Maasai, foreign investments arrived, in the form of petrodollars from the United Arab Emirates, but the sheikhs did not open their wallets to make investments in Tanzania, indirectly financing its development; the sheikhs opened their wallets to convert the Maasai lands into hunting reserves.
You cannot be serious.
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