The Bawku Chieftaincy Dispute and the Palestine–Israel Analogy: History, Political Imposition, and the Imperative of Mamprusi Resilience

Abstract
This article advances a comparative political analysis of the Bawku chieftaincy dispute by drawing an instructive analogy with the Palestine–Israel conflict. It argues that, in both cases, original settlers and historically established rulers have been confronted with political narratives designed to overwrite chronology, dilute sovereignty, and manufacture claims to self-determination on already settled lands. Using documented timelines, indigenous political history, and political theory, the article demonstrates that Mamprusi authority in Bawku predates Kusasi settlement by centuries. In my view, the contemporary contestation is therefore less about competing histories than about the strategic denial of history itself. The article concludes that, as with the Palestinian experience, Mamprusi resilience—anchored in historical clarity, unity, and disciplined advocacy—remains indispensable at this critical moment.

Introduction
History becomes most inconvenient when it refuses to bend to political desire. The Bawku chieftaincy dispute exemplifies this tension between chronology and ambition, between settled authority and manufactured entitlement. When examined through a comparative political lens, the dispute mirrors the logic underpinning the Palestine–Israel conflict—a situation in which original settlers and rulers are compelled to justify their existence, while later arrivals deploy political rhetoric, particularly the language of self-determination, to contest already established sovereignty.

In my view, the Mamprusi case in Bawku is not weakened by history; rather, it is strengthened by it. The central challenge, therefore, lies not in proving legitimacy, but in resisting sustained efforts to obscure it.

In political disputes over land and authority, time is not a footnote; it is the foundation. In Palestine, Palestinians trace continuous settlement and governance long before the establishment of Israel in 1948 through external political arrangements (Khalidi, 1997; Pappé, 2006). The systematic denial of this chronology has been central to legitimising political imposition.

The Bawku case presents an even clearer chronological contrast. By the Kusasi’s own documented accounts, their migration from present-day Burkina Faso into the Bawku area occurred around 1895. This is not an allegation from adversaries, but a self-recorded historical claim. By contrast, Mamprusi political authority over Bawku is historically established as far back as 1721, when the Bawku chieftaincy was firmly integrated into the Mamprugu traditional state.

More fundamentally, the roots of Mamprusi presence extend far deeper. Naa Gbewaa, the legendary founder of the Mole–Dagbamba political civilisation—and by extension the Mamprugu Kingdom—is historically situated in the 12th century, with Pusiga identified as a central locus of his rule and dispersal (Staniland, 1975; Wilks, 1989). This places Mamprusi political formation in the region over seven centuries before Kusasi migration into Bawku.

On the basis of chronology alone, the question of original settlement and ownership answers itself.

Yet history alone has not been allowed to settle the matter. Despite the glaring contrast between longstanding Mamprusi authority and relatively recent Kusasi political claims, the latter did not emerge organically through customary evolution. In my view, they crystallised through explicit political arrangements—first in 1958 under the CPP government, and later reinforced in 1984 by the PNDC military regime.

This trajectory exposes the extent to which chieftaincy in Bawku has been politicised in direct contradiction to Ghana’s constitutional order. Article 270 of the 1992 Constitution explicitly prohibits executive interference in matters of chieftaincy and traditional authority. Paradoxically, successive governments—regardless of political colour—have repeatedly encroached upon this sacred boundary.

This persistent contradiction between constitutional doctrine and political practice has not only undermined the rule of law but has also deepened mistrust among affected communities. As the wise saying goes, when the referee begins to play for one side, the game inevitably turns violent. In Bawku, state interference has failed to serve as neutral arbitration; instead, it has entrenched perceptions of injustice and perpetuated conflict.

When chronology undermines political ambition, history itself becomes the target. In the Palestine–Israel case, Palestinian historical presence has frequently been minimised or reframed to justify settler sovereignty (Said, 1993). A similar strategy is evident in Bawku.

Increasingly, the historical existence of Naa Gbewaa—central to Mamprusi and wider Mole–Dagbamba political history—has been questioned or dismissed. Cletus Avoka, a Kusasi representatives has publicly described him as a “myth.” Analytically, this denial is not accidental; it is strategic. The acknowledgement of Naa Gbewaa’s existence casts an unavoidable shadow over claims that Mamprusi authority is recent, artificial, or imposed.

As political theory reminds us, when facts are inconvenient, they are not debated—they are denied. Yet denial does not erase history; it merely exposes the fragility of the counterclaim.

This politicisation of history is reinforced by a persistent misconception that Ghana’s Supreme Court has conclusively settled the question of who holds the legitimate right to the Bawku skin. This claim, often repeated in public discourse, is both inaccurate and misleading.

As private legal practitioner Martin Luther Kpebu has clarified, the matter before the Supreme Court was never determined on its substantive merits. The case was withdrawn due to procedural challenges, denying the Court the opportunity to render a definitive judgment. What exists, therefore, is not a landmark ruling grounded in extensive legal reasoning, but a brief technical disposition.

In my view, it is legally and intellectually dishonest to present this non-decision as judicial finality. Much like in protracted international conflicts where partial legal outcomes are inflated into permanent settlements, the myth of Supreme Court closure in Bawku has been weaponised to silence legitimate historical claims.

When inconclusive judicial processes are paraded as settled law, they do not heal divisions; they harden them. As the saying goes, a wound wrongly declared healed soon festers beneath the bandage.

Closely related to this judicial misrepresentation is the portrayal of the 1984 enskinment of Abugrago as Bawku-Naba as a neutral administrative exercise by the PNDC. This narrative, including its adoption in Otumfuo’s mediation report, collapses under scrutiny.

Former Attorney-General Martin Amidu has acknowledged that, as PNDC Secretary for the Upper East Region, he drafted the terms of reference for administrative committees set up to inquire into the Bawku chieftaincy and land ownership issues. In my view, this admission does not absolve the process of political interference; it confirms it.

When a military government establishes committees, defines their mandates, and oversees implementation, the process ceases to be customary arbitration. Chieftaincy derives legitimacy from lineage and tradition—not from executive-designed inquiries. As the proverb reminds us, he who writes the questions often controls the answers.

Rather than resolving the dispute, the PNDC’s intervention institutionalised imbalance, converting political convenience into procedural legitimacy.

Self-Determination and Its Logical Limits

Against this background, the invocation of self-determination emerges as the most persistent rhetorical tool in the dispute. Yet self-determination does not operate in a historical vacuum. It is intended to liberate colonised peoples—not to dispossess established sovereign authority.

In my view, one cannot logically invoke self-determination in a land that was already politically settled long before one’s arrival, without first negating that settlement’s legitimacy. This mirrors the Palestinian experience, where political recognition is often substituted for original ownership.

What, then, is required of the Mamprusi? The Palestinian case offers a sobering lesson: resilience is sustained through memory, narrative discipline, and unity. Mamprusi resilience must likewise transcend emotion and be rooted in historical duty.

It requires calm assertion of fact, institutional engagement, and refusal to surrender clarity for convenience. Violence and fragmentation only serve confusion; resilience allows time to work in favour of truth.

Both conflicts demonstrate that modern authority is exercised through narrative. Palestinians have increasingly framed their struggle as one of historical justice and human rights rather than territorial rivalry. In the same way, the Mamprusi case must consistently be articulated as a defence of established customary order, not ethnic dominance.

When chronology is firm, restraint becomes strength. When history is clear, patience becomes power.

Conclusion
In conclusion, the Bawku chieftaincy dispute—like the Palestine–Israel conflict—is not fundamentally about coexistence, but about whether history can be overridden by political assertion. Mamprusi authority in Bawku predates Kusasi settlement by centuries. Naa Gbewaa is not a myth to be erased, but a historical anchor that exposes the fragility of contrary claims.

As the elders wisely say, you do not uproot an old tree by denying that it ever grew. By standing firmly on history and exercising resilience rather than reaction, the Mamprusi defend not only their past, but the integrity of customary authority itself.

The Bawku Chieftaincy Dispute and the Palestine–Israel Analogy: History, Political Imposition, and the Imperative of Mamprusi Resilience.

By: Hamza I. Salifu