By Andrew Klein 

The dominant global narrative on human rights has been predominantly shaped by a Western paradigm, one that powerfully champions individual liberty but often sidelines communal responsibility. This paradigm is epitomized by the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR), a monumental achievement born from the ashes of World War II which establishes a common standard of fundamental freedoms for all people. Its power lies in its uncompromising defence of the individual against the state, articulating a comprehensive list of rights—to life, liberty, fair trial, and property—and setting a global benchmark for individual dignity.

Meanwhile, a revolutionary and more holistic framework has been developing for decades, one that intrinsically links rights with duties and balances individual freedoms with collective well-being: the African Charter on Human and Peoples’ Rights (the Banjul Charter). Adopted in 1981 by the Organisation of African Unity (OAU), this Charter was consciously crafted to reflect African philosophical traditions, which often emphasize community solidarity and collective rights as fundamental to human dignity. Its very structure is a radical departure, built not on a single pillar of individual rights, but on three integrated pillars: human rights, peoples’ rights, and individual duties.

The philosophical chasm between these two documents is vast. The UDHR, rooted in Western liberalism and individualism, views the person primarily as a rights-bearing entity. In contrast, the Banjul Charter, grounded in African communalism and the Ubuntu philosophy of “I am because we are,” views a person as a member of a community with inherent rights and responsibilities. This is not a secondary thought but the Charter’s operational core. Its preamble explicitly states that the “enjoyment of rights and freedoms also implies the performance of duties on the part of everyone.”

This framework of duty is legally codified and specific. Article 27 of the Charter establishes that “Every individual shall have duties towards his family and society, the State and other legally recognised communities and the international community.” Article 29 powerfully elaborates on these duties, which include the duty to serve the national community, to preserve and strengthen African cultural values, to contribute to the well-being of society, and to work and pay taxes. This represents one of the Charter’s key innovations: establishing enforceable duties alongside rights.

Furthermore, the Charter introduces a groundbreaking concept largely absent from the UDHR: peoples’ rights. These are collective or “third-generation” rights, such as the right of a people to self-determination, to freely dispose of their wealth and natural resources, to their economic, social, and cultural development, and to a general satisfactory environment. This acknowledges that the dignity of the individual is inextricably linked to the health and sovereignty of the community to which they belong.

This is not a historical relic but a living, though often challenged, body of law. The African Union (AU), the OAU’s successor, continues to operationalize these principles. However, the system faces significant tests, with analysts noting a persistent “lack of genuine and sustained political will” that hinders its ability to effectively respond to crises and uphold its progressive ideals on the ground.

For our work at ‘The Patrician’s Watch’ , this contrast is not merely academic; it is civilizational. The Western model, for all its virtues, can be easily co-opted by the “extraction economic system” we have previously dissected. A system that prioritizes individual rights without corresponding duties fosters an entitlement culture without a foundation of contribution, weakens social bonds, and treats individuals as isolated consumers, making them more vulnerable to exploitation. It creates a vacuum of responsibility that allows power to be wielded without accountability.

The African Charter offers a profound corrective. It provides a legal and philosophical language for the “I-Thou” relationship at a societal level. It understands that a family, a community, or a nation cannot thrive if its members only assert what is theirs by right without also honouring what they owe by duty. By bringing this African understanding to the forefront, we do more than expand human rights discourse; we provide a tool for its repair and a vision for a world where liberty and obligation are once again understood as the inseparable halves of a single, sacred whole.