by PATRICK LEJTENYI

The small, impoverished, landlocked West African country of Burkina Faso has had a typically unhappy history since it won its independence from France in 1960. Then known as Upper Volta, it went through two decades of petty dictatorship and mismanagement before Thomas Sankara, an army captain, took power in a coup in 1983. Four years later, Sankara, who had renamed the country Burkina Faso, “The Land of Incorruptible Men,” was himself overthrown and executed by his most trusted companion and justice minister, Blaise Compaoré. Sankara’s death certificate, however, states that he died of natural causes. So what makes his death any more noteworthy than that of countless others’ on that continent?

The difference lies in what may come out of it. Last week, an international group of 18 lawyers, some based in Montreal, others in France and Africa, filed a complaint with the United Nations Human Rights Committee based in Geneva, urging them to bring pressure on Burkina Faso to open an inquiry into Sankara’s death. The recourse to the United Nations is a world first, and may have far-reaching consequences.

Filed on behalf of Sankara’s widow Mariam and their two sons, Phillippe and Auguste, who now live in France, the complaint focuses on the constant stonewalling they faced from the Burkina Faso judiciary. It was deposed on October 15, the 15th anniversary of Sankara’s murder.

“The complaint is novel in the sense that the UN Human Rights Committee is looking at a case that [constitutes] an ongoing, continuous human rights violation,” says Milton-James Fernandes, one of the Montreal lawyers working on the case. “It’s the first one that starts to reach back in time.”

The campaign to shed light on Sankara’s fate is coordinated by the Group for Research and Initiatives for the Liberation of Africa (GRILA), a Canadian non-profit organization with offices in Montreal and Toronto. Its interest in Sankara stems from his independent-minded vision of his country and his continent, which included economic autonomy, improving the status of women and pan-Africanism. Sankara’s politics, Fernandes says, were probably what got him killed.

“His Marxist, communitarian vision wasn’t very popular with some people in the West,” he says. “He had some progressive ideas that were opposed by a lot of folks.”

“Sankara is a symbol,” says Vincent Vallée, another Montreal lawyer working on the case. “His ideas were, for Africa, avant-gardiste. He was a president who stirred things up—perhaps he had too novel a vision.” Indeed, in some circles, Sankara’s name is breathed reverentially alongside such early African socialist luminaries as Patrice Lumumba of Zaire and Amilcar Cabral of Guinea-Bissau, both of whom also met premature deaths at the hands of pro-Western rivals.

What good a successful suit would do, however, remains to be seen. “The decision would have no legal binding. The power is seen as much more moral,” Fernandes says, adding that it would bring more attention to the country on the world stage. “But if we can show that there is no judicial impartiality in Burkina Faso, if people are denied justice, this can make compelling arguments about how development agencies like CIDA [Canadian International Development Agency] operate.” :