The Francophone/Anglophone Split over Article 47 of the Constitution of the Federal Republic of Cameroon: An Abiding Malaise with an Explosive Charge

DOI10.3366/ajicl.2017.0211
Date01 November 2017
Published date01 November 2017
Pages538-560
INTRODUCTION

Following the historic vote by English-speaking Southern Cameroonians in the UN-sponsored plebiscite of 11 February 1961 to accede to independence by joining the already French-speaking independent Republic of Cameroon arose the need for a constitution governing the organisation and functioning of the union. It was for this purpose that the equally historic constitutional conference was convened in Foumban in July that same year. There, the leaders of the Southern Cameroons and the Republic of Cameroon came up with the Federal Constitution enacted on 1 September 1961. It is to be noted that this national charter was not a new one as such. It was simply an amendment of the 4 March 1960 constitution of the Republic of Cameroon. Its reference, ‘Law No. 61–24 of 1 September 1961 on a constitutional amendment and adapting the constitution of 4 March 1960 to the needs of a reunified Cameroon (or the Federal constitution)’ tells the whole story.

In Foumban, the Founding Fathers, in opting for the federal model, were simply acknowledging the diversity that had developed ever since the defunct German protectorate was partitioned between Britain and France by the Treaty of Versailles in 1919. In fact, the Republic of Cameroon joined the Federation with a population of 3.2 million inhabitants and the Southern Cameroons with 800,000.1 There was therefore the need to protect the minority which President Ahidjo admitted when he stated:

There is no gainsaying the fact that Cameroonians over the Mungo, for more than forty years, have been marked by influences different from ours. This mark, if it hasn't touched the very soul of the population, has left its impression on their political and administrative customs, their working methods, their way of life… It would not be for us, a question of totally imposing our way of thinking and of life, especially in the conduct of public affairs, on a population that is used to other customs.2

The president, however, was equally frank about his target, i.e. to eventually harmonise national life:

Even though the States have maintained jurisdictions large enough to enable them to accommodate their respective particularities… the long and precise list of matters in the federal domain is an indication of our willingness to move as far as possible towards real homogeneity in our public life.3

He was faithful to his word as the series of constitutional reforms that followed confirm.4

Of all these reforms, none stroke more alarm in some anglophone circles than the unveiling of a new constitution instituting a unitary state back in 1972 which they consider in breach of Article 47 of the constitution of 1961 creating a federal state: ‘Any proposal for the revision of the present constitution which impairs the unity and integrity of the Federation shall be inadmissible.’ Article 47 was the delivery of a pre-Reunification promise by the authorities of the Republic of Cameroon to the Southern Cameroonians5 in a bid to win them over at the plebiscite polls on 11 February 1961. Without this promise, many of them would probably have never voted to leave the Federation of Nigeria in which they equally had the status of a state. To these English-speaking Cameroonians, therefore, the Reunification stood with Article 47 or died with it. Respect for it came first, because it was foundational.

However, on 20 May 1972, President Ahmadou Ahidjo reneged on the promise and held a referendum on the question of switching to a unitary state in breach of this perennial guarantee, so to speak. The result of the referendum was barely short of a hundred percent and on 12 June 1972, a unitary state, the United Republic of Cameroon,6 ‘one and indivisible’, was proclaimed on the debris of the Federal Republic of Cameroon.

Are claims that the institution of a unitary system of government is a constitutional impropriety well founded?

We are from the onset inclined to say they are clearly false, if we look at all the legal arguments. In fact a law of a lone proviso of 10 November 1969 opens the possibility of getting around Article 47 by a referendum.7 It effectively gives the President of the Federal Republic the power to bring about a change to the constitution, to bring about a total revision so to speak. Perhaps that is why anglophone nationalists are loath to quote it8 though it features prominently in the preface of the decree prescribing practical arrangements for conducting the referendum campaign.9 They still maintain Article 47 was in force up to the day of the institution of the unitary state, probably for fear of undermining the cause they are fighting for. Fairness and researched opinions have no place in the hurly-burly of political warfare.

But would it have made a difference at all if it were?

It is a question of interpreting that proviso in the context in which it was written. In the euphoria following the festivities marking the golden jubilee of reunification in 2014, this article proposes to launch a probe into a proviso whose interpretation requires more than a mastery of the two languages in which it was written and shows how it is as simple in form as it is complex in essence. It explains why advocates of the institution of the unitary state in 1972 against all odds to this day remain convinced of the rectitude of their cause. The hypothesis is that the apparent eternity of the federal model of government afforded by the words of Article 47 was counterbalanced by the division hidden in its content and how words may hide walls between worlds. At the end of it all, we will discover that the spirit of a law is as important as its letter and that the sureness of self of some anglophones in the interpretation of the text of that provision may be excessive. It is an important element in re-finding the truth of what has come to be known today as the anglophone-francophone problem in Cameroon, unresolved even after a return to multi-party-ism and the enactment of a new constitution in the 1990s.10

Constitutional reform may be allowed only if it saves the ‘unity’ (which is simple enough to be understood) and the ‘integrity’11 of the Federation .

Alain Didier Olinga, in an attempt to interpret the provision, comes up with a paradox of possibilities.12

The first, which is that ‘Any proposal for the revision of the present constitution which impairs the unity and integrity of the Federation shall be inadmissible’, effectively introduces a material restriction that applies to all possible procedures of revision in contemplation, parliamentary or popular.13

The second construction is a semantic analysis that is more generous, and probably excessively so. The word ‘Federation’ featuring in the text simply refers to the state, the design of which is perfectly alterable. It has nothing to do with the organisation or formulation of the institutions. The ‘unity’ of the Federation simply refers to the unity of the new state that resulted from the merger. The ‘integrity of the federation’ never meant the wholeness of its nature at all times. The idea behind it never extended beyond the preservation of the new state from external threats.

It plunges readers into a whirl and the author of this semantic shift is the first to admit it. The reasoning would scarcely stand up to a moment's testing.

What eluded the vigilance of the writer and several others before and after him is the influence of the cultural environment on the appreciation and even the interpretation of legal texts. The same text may be interpreted differently by legal cultures and Cameroon, a bilingual country, is not blessed with the unity of cultural values necessary to bring about a unity of interpretation. This does not amount to an accusation of any of the forms of discrimination outlawed by national and international texts. The fact is that it is proven that the flexibility in the interpretation of texts, which characterises lawyers of Gallic extraction or influence, contrasts sharply with the rigidity in some of their counterparts of Anglo-Saxon background or influence.

THE FLEXIBILITY OF LAWYERS OF GALLIC INFLUENCE

English-speaking Cameroonians who witnessed the turn of events between 1961 and 1972 put it on the francophone bid for hegemony. There, they score only half a point. There is in fact more to the francophone conduct in Cameroon.

The making of a constitution differs in both form and procedure from the making of ordinary laws or statutes that are traceable to it. This is what makes it superior to any other law. It is drafted by a special organ and adopted by a special procedure, the most prominent being the referendum. This is why loyalty to the constitution is the watchword in all liberal democracies.

But for the case of countries with flexible constitutions like Great Britain, revision of the constitution equally follows a special procedure and not all the materia can be affected. Both the text itself as well as its stipulations are supposed to be the Grundnorm and, in fact, the text cannot be destroyed without its content. But we discover that in French-speaking countries, this conception of the constitution has memorable limits. This community of Latin traditions shows a formidable taste for ingénierie constitutionnelle (restlessness in the invention and renewal of constitutions14). It further exhibits remarkable flexibility in its respect for the constitution and, does not scruple at the limits on the power to amend that usually typify such texts. It is an inheritance that includes cousins in Africa.

On Constitutions as a Whole

If we were to list the merits of French constitutional practices, durability will definitely not be the first, if it has to feature at all. Already, Jean-Jacques Rousseau wrote in the Social Contract that ‘People are always the master to change their laws, even the best, for if it pleases them to do harm to themselves, who has the right to stop them?’ Alexis de Tocqueville shared the...

To continue reading

Request your trial

VLEX uses login cookies to provide you with a better browsing experience. If you click on 'Accept' or continue browsing this site we consider that you accept our cookie policy. ACCEPT