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.

By Andrew Klein 

The Premise: A World Built on Obligations

“Had the Declaration of Human Rights been a Declaration of Human Obligations. Ruthlessly enforced against individual politician’s, we might actually have seen a much more peaceful world and wasted less time producing pointless research papers of belly gazing discourse.”

In the decades since the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR) was proclaimed in 1948, its 30 articles have become the moral compass of the international community. It is a monumental achievement, born from the ashes of global war, articulating for the first time a shared standard of fundamental freedoms for all people. Yet, amidst the undeniable progress, a persistent question lingers: has something been missing? A compelling argument emerges that had the foundation been a Declaration of Human Obligations, ruthlessly enforced against those in power, we might have built a more peaceful and accountable world. This is not a call to discard rights, but to complete them with a robust and enforceable framework of duties, a concept that has simmered at the margins of international law for decades.

The Existing Blueprint: The Valencia Declaration of 1998

The intuition that duties are the missing link is not merely theoretical. In 1998, to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the UDHR, a group of Nobel laureates, scientists, and philosophers under the auspices of UNESCO proclaimed the Declaration of Human Duties and Responsibilities (DHDR), also known as the Valencia Declaration. This document was conceived precisely out of a “shared concern regarding the lack of political will for enforcing globally human rights” and aimed to translate the semantics of rights into the practical language of duties.

The DHDR’s architects, including figures like South African Justice Richard Goldstone, argued that the recognition of human rights is insufficient if they are not enforceable. There must be, in their view, “a duty on all relevant authorities and individuals to enforce those rights” . The declaration meticulously outlines a system of duties, defining a “duty” as an ethical obligation and a “responsibility” as one that is legally binding. It identifies a wide range of duty-bearers, extending beyond states to include international organizations, corporations, and individuals taken collectively. This broader attribution of responsibility was a deliberate move to close the accountability gaps that powerful non-state actors often exploit.

The Enforcement Gap: Knowledge and Capacity Without Will

The existence of the DHDR proves the concept is sound. Yet, its lack of widespread adoption reveals the core obstacle: a deficit of political commitment. As one UN analysis acknowledges, while knowledge and technical capacity are essential, they “will not suffice where a government lacks the political commitment to hold perpetrators… accountable” . This is the crux of the matter. We have the tools—international courts, commissions of inquiry, and legal frameworks—but they are too often neutralized by a lack of political will.

The mechanisms for accountability are well-established and revolve around three interlinked rights: the right to truth, the right to justice, and the right to an effective remedy and reparation. When these are pursued seriously, as in South Africa’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission, they can lay a foundation for sustainable peace. However, as scholars from Harvard’s Carr Center for Human Rights note, the human rights movement “will always register many more shortfalls than achievements, but it would miss its purpose if it did not” . The system is designed to highlight failure, but without the relentless enforcement your premise calls for, these shortfalls become a permanent condition.

Concrete Duties: From Principle to Practice

What would a ruthless enforcement of obligations look like in practice? The DHDR provides specific, actionable examples that move beyond abstract ideals:

· The Duty to Protect Life and Ensure Survival: This extends to taking “reasonable steps to help others whose lives are threatened,” and includes a profound intergenerational responsibility to ensure the survival of future generations, a concept championed by then-UNESCO Director-General Federico Mayor.

· The Duty to Intervene to Prevent Gross Violations: Article 6 of the DHDR explicitly states the duty to prevent genocide, crimes against humanity, and war crimes, noting a “collective duty of the States to intervene” when one state fails in its primary responsibility. This directly addresses the kind of international inaction that has allowed atrocities to continue in various conflict zones.

· The Duty to Promote an Equitable International Order: This duty, found in Article 10, cautions that “Economic policies and development should not be pursued at the expense of human rights or social development” . This is a clear, obligation-focused standard against which the policies of governments and international financial institutions could be measured.

The Path Not Yet Taken

The vision is one where the powerful are held to account, where the discourse of community and mutual obligation supersedes a purely individualistic claim to rights. The evidence suggests that the premise is valid: a framework of enforced obligations would have provided a more direct and robust tool for building a just world. The DHDR exists as a testament to this very idea.

However, the question remains whether any document, no matter how well-conceived, can be “ruthlessly enforced” in a world of sovereign states and competing interests. The challenge is not a lack of ideas, but a deficit of collective courage. As one human rights defender from Russia poignantly warns, “Violence never stays inside… it will spread far beyond… when authoritarian states feel they will go unpunished” .

The transition from a culture of rights to a culture of responsibilities is the great unfinished work of the human rights project. I

 The path to a more peaceful world indeed lies in completing the architecture of rights with the foundation of enforced obligations.