Political parties play an integral role in modern democracies and are legitimate platforms of contestation for state power. Despite the vital role that political parties play in democratisation, they are often prone to internal disputes. Their internal processes, such as conferences, elections, decision-making and deployments, are often subject to contestation. Conflicts are inherent in political contestation in general and in political parties, in particular. Hence, political parties have several mechanisms for dispute resolution, one of which is the referral of disputes to the courts of law. The role of the courts in internal political party disputes is a double-edged sword. While a court provides an independent platform for resolving disputes, it lacks reconciliatory attributes. After court intervention, many political parties often break up into smaller parties or experience major defections. This phenomenon is more pronounced in Lesotho than elsewhere. Ever since the return to electoral democracy in 1993, the role of the courts in internal party disputes has increased phenomenally. However, instead of achieving cohesion and internal stability, political parties have experienced splits, exacerbated conflicts or significant defections after the referral of their internal disputes to the courts. This raises the question of whether the courts are the appropriate mechanism for resolving internal political conflicts. This article investigates this question. 

Keywords: political parties, Lesotho, inter-party conflicts, courts of law, conflict resolution mechanisms

Introduction

Political parties are essential anchors of viable democracies as they, among other things, mobilise the electorate and recruit candidates to participate in elections. As grand places for the endogenous and exogenous contestation for political power, they are often prone to conflict (Ibrahim and Abubakar, 2015). Political party conflict can take two forms: intra-party and inter-party conflict. On the one hand, intra-party conflict is internal to a single political party. It involves members or structures of the same party. Inter-party conflict, on the other hand, involves two or more political parties. Both forms of political party conflict are common and often have the same potential to result in the most catastrophic consequences. The worst effects of political parties’ conflicts can be the devastation of countries and political violence. Intra-party conflict often emanates from members’ disagreements over many aspects of party management, such as, but not necessarily limited to, intra-party democracy, management and candidates’ nomination and imposition (Aleyomi, 2013 in Ibrahim and Abubakar, 2015:117). If not properly managed, intra-party conflict often leads to the disintegration of parties, weakening of political parties and, ultimately, breakaway (Kukec, 2019; Momodu and Matudi, 2013). Hence, political parties employ several mechanisms to manage and resolve internal conflicts. Some mechanisms are internal and contained in party constitutions, while others are external and include litigation in a court of law. 

Lesotho has experienced recurrent intra-party conflict since independence from Britain in 1966. Since 1993 when the country returned to electoral politics, it has seen an increased role of the courts in internal party strife with far-reaching consequences not only for political parties but also for the stability of the country (Shale, 2016). Most conflicts have occurred over leadership positions, thus leading to factionalism and splits (Shale and Matlosa, 2008). The entire post-1993 era is laden with political party splits and defections instigated by disputes that were referred to the courts. In most cases, the disputes that were referred to courts of law invariably resulted in defections, breakaways and, in some instances, tumult for
the country. 

This raises the question of whether the courts are the best means of resolving internal political party conflicts. This article examines the efficacy of the courts as a mechanism for resolving internal party conflicts. It is based on secondary data collected from decided cases, books, journal articles, reports and newspapers. These sources provide the best data for analysis suited to the purpose of this article. The article comprises four main sections. The first section is the conceptual framework, which deals with the key conceptual levers. The second section examines the conflict resolution mechanisms available to political parties in Lesotho. The third section examines the judiciary as a conflict resolution mechanism in Lesotho and analyses the approaches used by the courts in Lesotho in a number of cases where breakaways followed the courts’ decisions. Lastly, a conclusion with recommendations is provided.

Conceptual framework

Party systems

Like political parties everywhere, political parties in Lesotho operate within a particular typology of party system. A political party system involves frameworks and structures within which political parties compete and cooperate in a specific jurisdiction. The four main factors in determining the typology of political parties systems are “(a) the number of political parties, (b) the absolute and (c) relative size of the two largest and (d) the relative size of the second and third largest parties” (Croissant and Volkel, 2012:239). The typology of political party systems in Africa is a subject of great controversy (Bogaards, 2004). This is because African political party systems often have intricate nuances that defy generalised typologies largely informed by Eurocentric party systems. Bogaards captures the situation of party typologies in Africa rather astutely: “[m]ulti-party elections do not lead automatically to multiparty systems. In sub-Saharan Africa, the spread of multiparty politics in the 1990s has given rise to dominant parties. A majority of African states have enjoyed multiparty elections, but no change in government” (Bogaards, 2004:173).Within the African context, three broad categories of party systems exist: predominant or dominant, multiparty or pulverised and single-party systems (Alan, 2003). A political party system is predominant when one party “gains an absolute majority of seats in parliament” (Erdmann and Basedau, 2008:243). In Africa, countries such as South Africa, Zimbabwe and Botswana are prime examples of this predominant party system. Although a predominant system may be open to and practice multi-partyism, a single political party emphatically dominates the landscape. The second category is a non-dominant or pulverised system. This system has a constellation of political parties with no dominant political party. According to Ranny and Kendall (1954), this is a system in which three or more political parties have shared the majority of the votes and public office such that coalition governments have ruled the country. The third is a single-party system. This typology has effectively been wiped off by the wave of democratisation in Africa since the 1990s (Bogaards, 2004). There are outliers in Africa where political parties are prohibited, such as in Eswatini. Eswatini is the region’s pariah as it is the only country in southern Africa without multi-party elections.

The political party system in Lesotho has been in constant change. From 1993, when the country returned to electoral politics, until 2012, when the country started a turbulent era of coalition politics, the party system in Lesotho was characterised by two dominant parties: Basotuland Congress Party (BCP) (1993–1997) and Lesotho Congress for Democracy (LCD) (1997–2012). Since 2012, no single party has commanded an absolute majority, thereby rendering the system largely pulverised. An intriguing dynamic of this period is that two main political parties – All Basotho Convention (ABC) and Democratic Congress (DC) – took turns as the main political party in the country, albeit without an absolute majority. This pattern was disrupted by the formation of the Revolution for Prosperity (RFP) in the run-up to the 2022 elections. The RFP won the most votes in the 2022 elections and, consequently, the most seats in parliament. However, the party could not get absolute votes which led to the formation of a coalition government. 

Intra-party conflicts

As platforms of contestation for power, political parties are always prone to internal and external conflict. Conflict within political parties is referred to as intra-party conflict (Awofeso and Ogunmilade, 2017). Intra-party conflict is a multidimensional and dynamic phenomenon (Gherghina, Close and Kopecky, 2019). It connotes a situation of disagreement due to incompatibility and strife within the party system and implies a situation characterised by disagreements, disputes and physical hostility within the party (Obi, 2018). Intra-party conflict is persistent and occurs in different ways and at different points in the process of democratisation (Ibrahim and Abubaka, 2015). It characterises political party life and occurs regularly within and between the different units of the party organisation. Invariably, it is caused by, among other things, the diversity in the composition of the party members, disagreements that occur at party conferences regarding the nature of the party platform or leadership selection, divergence in voting behaviour by party representatives in the legislature, and disputes between the party’s parliamentary caucus and representatives in the cabinet (Gherghina, Close and Kopecky, 1999). It may also result from the lack of intra-party democracy and methods and procedures for including members in decision-making (Aleyomi, 2013). For instance, intra-party conflict often occurs during the nomination and selection of candidates, elections for leadership positions, ordinary membership conventions and during the application of internal rules to discipline party members and hold the leaders of political parties accountable (Awofeso and Ogunmilade, 2017). In the same vein, Ibrahim and Abubakar (2015) point out that intra-party conflict happens when members pursue contradictory goals, particularly in the fielding of candidates for both elected and appointed positions. Likewise, Anjorin and Danladi (2021) state that intra-party conflict is inevitable because, although members pursue the common goal of ruling a country and influencing public policy, they also hold conflicting views, interests, thoughts and principles. Although the causes of intra-party conflict are numerous, the most common trigger is the nomination and selection of candidates for elections and leadership positions.

Conflict resolution mechanisms 

Conflict resolution is the process of ending disputes and removing the factors identified as causes or triggers of the conflict to achieve peace and harmony among the conflicting parties (Nnaemeka, 2019). Conflict resolution is intended to reduce, eliminate or terminate conflict (Rahim, 2002). To minimise the negative effects of conflict, political parties employ a wide range of mechanisms. These mechanisms can be divided into proactive and reactive methods. Proactive methods focus on the prevention of conflict while reactive methods refer to the responses to the occurrence of conflict (Nnaemeka, 2019). Proactive methods include good governance, trust and confidence building, intra-party democracy and communication. In contrast, reactive methods include mediation, negotiation, conciliation, arbitration, mini-trials and litigation (Nnaemeka, 2019).

Negotiation systems encourage and facilitate cooperation between parties to a dispute. Negotiation involves communication between the disputants to reach an understanding that would benefit both parties. It does not involve a third party (Obi, 2018). In cases where the negotiation fails, those in dispute engage a third party to act as a mediator. Mediation is a special form of negotiation. The mediator is not directly involved in the conflict but becomes a negotiating partner (Kotzé, 2002). Conciliation involves a third party, namely a conciliator, who facilitates the settlement of conflicts following consensus from those in dispute. The conciliator assists the conflicting parties to identify and address the causes of the conflict. The conciliator also encourages voluntary participation and discussion in an effort to ensure conflict resolution (Nnaemeka, 2019). 

Often when internal measures fail to resolve intra-party conflicts, parties resort to external mechanisms such as litigation. Litigation refers to a process in which complainants escalate their dissatisfaction to a court of law (Obi, 2018). The courts have several approaches to resolving intra-party conflicts: the amicable settlement approach, the contractarian approach and the zero-sum approach. The amicable settlement approach may take two forms. First, the court may allow parties to reach a settlement on their own and return to the court for such a settlement to be made a court order. Second, after assessing the totality of the circumstances of the dispute, the court may send the parties back to attempt to settle the dispute amicably (Ntsu Mokhehle v Molapo Qhobela and Others, 1997). The advantage of the amicable approach is that, like the Alternative Dispute Resolution (ADR) mechanisms, which involve negotiation, conciliation and arbitration, parties are given a second opportunity to reflect on their dispute after realising that if they do not settle their disputes, a third party – the court – will settle it for them with an unpredictable outcome. The disadvantage is that disputants in general, and those within political parties in particular, rarely change their hard-line positions. Therefore, referring the resolution of the dispute back to them is either a waste of time or worsens the dispute (Ntsu Mokhehle v Molapo Qhobela and Others, 1997).

The contractarian approach treats the constitutive instruments – constitutions, rules and guidelines – of political parties as contracts that members enter into voluntarily (Ramakatsa and Others v Magashule and Others, 2012). In terms of this approach, courts are often reluctant to tamper with the decisions of political parties even when they appear ostensibly unfair, as long as they were made in accordance with the provisions of the constitution of the party. Courts normally interpret the constitutions of political parties with a view to giving them effect.

Sometimes, the courts do not apply the amicable approach to internal political party disputes. Instead, they use the adversarial zero-sum approach. In this approach, the courts stick strictly to legal procedures and the evidence placed before them. The court decides where one party is the winner and the other is the loser. In most cases, litigants expect this when they refer their disputes to the courts. However, this is the most divisive approach as far as the internal disputes of political parties are concerned. As always observed in the scholarship, this approach is an example of the fact that the courts are ill-suited to resolving political disputes, in general, and internal political disputes, in particular. After the courts make their decisions, political parties often split or experience major defections. Litigation invariably leaves political parties “without internal cohesion, damaged interpersonal relationships, financially drained litigants, suspicion and distrust” (Obi, 2018:29).

Intra-party conflict resolution mechanisms 

Constitutions of political parties

Political parties are constituted in terms of their constitutive instruments: constitutions, rules or statutes. Hence, political party constitutions are vital as they are “the terrain upon which confrontations, negotiations, and power games with other organisational actors will take place” (Panebianco, 1988: 33– 36). Hence, any analysis of the conflict resolution infrastructure within political parties must always start with an investigation of the provisions of the constitution on the subject. Besides, most challenges for political parties – from a lack of clarity on the party’s ideology to poor organisational structure in areas such as gender parity and conflict resolution – emanate from the constitutional design. Lesotho’s political parties are no exception; their constitutions have conflict resolution mechanisms. Intriguingly, political parties have strikingly similar constitutional designs. This, in a way, is attributable to the historical fact that they are virtually the offshoots of one political party – the BCP (Likoti, 2005; Matlosa and Sello, 2005). As Likoti observes, “all these parties have a similar ideology and are fragments of one main political party, the BCP. [They have] a shared origin, history and similar ideological outlook” (2021:162). In respect of conflict management and resolution, the party constitutions in Lesotho have three prominent features.

The first feature is that conflict resolution is embedded in their structural hierarchies. Unlike disciplinary structures appointed as structures from the mainstream hierarchical structures, conflicts within parties are handled by the same structures that run the parties – the structures that ordinarily manage the party are also expected to act as mechanisms of conflict management and conflict resolution. The constitution of the All Basotho Convention (ABC), one breakaway party of the BCP lineage, is a case in point. It provides for a four-layered dispute resolution mechanism: branch committee level, constituency committee level, national executive committee level and national conference level. In terms of clause O of the party’s constitution, a dispute in the political party must first be referred to the branch committee. If the complainant is dissatisfied with the decision of the branch committee, the decision may be referred to the constituency committee. If the dispute is not resolved at the constituency level, it is referred to the national executive committee, and the national conference is the final appellate forum. The constitution provides that the decision of the national conference is binding and final. This mode of embedding conflict management and resolution within the party’s structures is problematic. Disputes often concern party positions, which means that internal hierarchical party structures are invariably conflicted and is the reason their decisions are never accepted as fair and impartial. This is what transpired in 2019 when the courts in Lesotho – both the High Court and the Court of Appeal – were seized with a dispute over the nomination of candidates in the run-up to the national executive committee election scheduled for February 2019 (Korokoro Constituency Committee v Executive Working Committee – All Basotho Convention, 2019).

In the build-up to the conference, the leader of the ABC, Tom Thabane, had already stated that he would not accept the nomination of Nqosa Mahao. Nevertheless, his home constituency nominated him as a candidate for the position. Not entirely unexpectedly, the National Executive Committee (NEC) rejected that nomination and the Executive Working Committee (EWC) went on to suspend the Korokoro Constituency Committee’s membership in the ABC. The constituency committee challenged the decision of the EWC in the courts. While the High Court dismissed the application, the Court of Appeal ruled in favour of the Korokoro constituency, and Mahao was allowed to participate as a candidate for the position of deputy leader at the conference. The conference indeed elected him as deputy leader. The leader never endorsed the committee elected at the conference, which included Mahao. The conflict between the leader and his newly elected deputy, Mahao, continued until Mahao defected in April 2021 to form a breakaway party, the Basotho Action Party (BAP). This ABC spectacle demonstrates how the model of entrusting the party hierarchy with conflict resolution has fundamental limitations. The ABC’s approach of entrusting the party hierarchy with conflict resolution is not unique. The constitutions of the Democratic Congress (DC) and the Alliance of Democrats (AD), albeit in varying forms, also entrust the party structures with the responsibility of managing and resolving internal party conflicts.

The second feature of constitutions in Lesotho is that, despite the inherent limitations of the internal conflict management and resolution architecture, they do not expect members to appeal or to refer their grievances to the courts. Therefore, they include ouster clauses in their constitutions. Ouster clauses preclude the involvement of the courts after a certain decision has been made. Such a decision is regarded as final and binding (Edlin, 2009). Political parties enforce these clauses by automatically terminating the membership of any member who refers an internal party dispute to the courts. While the ABC’s constitution is not unique in using an ouster clause, its constitution is a prime example. Clause 5(e) of the ABC’s constitution provides for an ouster clause thus:

Members must try to resolve their disputes by using internal party structures. Any member or group of members that refers their disputes to the courts of law before exhausting processes provided by Article O of the Constitution will be deemed to have violated discipline and will automatically be taken to deprive himself of membership rights in the party (translated from the vernacular).

Ouster clauses are prevalent in the constitutions of political parties in Lesotho and internationally. For instance, Rule 2.7.1 of the constitution of the African National Congress (ANC) in South Africa provides that “a decision of the NDRC [National Dispute Resolution Committee] Appeal Committee shall be final and binding on the parties, and neither party shall have any further recourse to a court of law or other structure or office of the ANC” (ANC, 2017). Ouster clauses have always been highly controversial as they deprive members of political parties of the right to access the courts, which is a right provided by the country’s constitution. After a long period of uncertainty about whether ouster clauses conflicted with the constitution, the Court of Appeal of Lesotho had the opportunity to decide on their constitutionality in Korokoro Constituency Committee v Executive Working Committee – All Basotho Convention (2019). Among the many issues that had to be decided by the courts was the constitutionality of the ouster clause embodied in clause 5(e) of the party’s constitution. The Court of Appeal was unequivocal in its finding of the clause as unconstitutional. The court held that, “clause 5(e) of the ABC constitution is constitutionally unconscionable when measured against the constitutional standards of access to justice and right to a fair trial contemplated by section 12(8) of the Constitution of Lesotho” (para 84). The court identified four grounds on which it found the ouster clause unconstitutional. The first ground was that it took away a constitutionally entrenched right to have one’s disputes resolved by an impartial court. The party structures were clearly conflicted. Second, the court found that even if the clause was to be regarded as a limitation on the right, “it is not clear what this kind of clause serves [a] legitimate purpose in a democratic society” (para 86). Third, the court found that the clause was one-sided, favouring the party hierarchy against the members. Therefore, it was unfair as “the prejudice that the clause visits on aggrieved litigating members is disproportionate to the conceivable benefits that it confers on the party” (para 86). Fourth, the court said the clause seemed to be enforceable against the members regardless of the fact that it was unfair. The court criticised the clause as follows: “in other words, the clause may be enforced however unfair or unjust its consequences may be. In my view, there are no common law defences which could render the clause flexible. In my view, the clause means what it says” (para 86).

The electoral law

Political parties in Lesotho are registered under two legal regimes: the Societies Act of 1966 and the National Assembly Electoral Act of 2011. They are registered under the Societies Act as legal entities that may acquire rights and duties, with the capacity to sue or be sued. Such registration is not enough to allow them to contest elections under the auspices of the Independent Electoral Commission (IEC). Therefore, they are required to further register with the IEC to contest elections and to gain all the benefits that come with such registration, such as election campaign funding and political party funding. Both pieces of legislation do not permit intervention by either the Registrar of Societies or the IEC in the internal affairs of political parties in general and conflict resolution in particular. Section 23 of the National Assembly Electoral Act requires all political parties intending to contest an election to register with the IEC. Section 24 of the same Act provides for the myriad of requirements for registration of a political party, including the contents of political parties’ constitutions. While the section imposes certain minimum standards of good internal governance, such as management of finance, non-discrimination, gender equality and inclusivity, it does not impose any minimum standards on managing or resolving internal party conflict. Neither does the section provide for the IEC having any role in internal party conflict. Hence, it may be said that the electoral law is based on the principle of non-interference in the internal affairs of political parties. This principle is based on the reality that the IEC should approach its interaction with political parties with extreme caution because its principal mandate is to manage elections, not political parties. Therefore, it must appear independent and impartial to all players at all material times.

The judiciary as a conflict resolution mechanism

The involvement of the courts in internal political affairs is a very controversial, if not complex, subject. However, the courts of law in Lesotho have been seized with internal political party disputes for a long time. The involvement of the courts in internal political party disputes is a contentious subject because it is a double-edged sword. Courts everywhere enjoy the reputation of bringing expertise, independence and impartiality to bear on resolving any disputes. The final resort to the courts is also based on the fact that every individual has certain inalienable rights regardless of affiliation. These rights, among other rights, include access to the courts and equality before the law enshrined in national constitutions. On the one hand, the courts are often viewed as the best forum for the referral of political conflicts. On the other hand, the courts are often touted as not being the best arbiters of political disputes because their approach to dispute resolution is often adversarial, zero-sum and therefore destructive to internal party cohesion (Obi, 2018). This last part is vindicated by the continual post-litigation splintering of political parties in Lesotho. 

The courts in Lesotho have adopted several approaches to resolving internal political disputes in Lesotho. These approaches may be classified in three ways: the amicable settlement approach, the contractarian approach and the zero-sum approach. Despite variations in each approach, almost all of the approaches have resulted in major splits within political parties or the defection of individual members, as will become clear in the discussion that follows.

The amicable settlement approach 

Although the courts are renowned for their adversarial approach to dispute resolution, they sometimes resort to the amicable resolution of disputes. This approach has been invoked occasionally with regard to political parties’ internal disputes. The amicable approach was adopted by Justice Mofolo of the High Court of Lesotho in the Mokhotlong Constituency Committee of Basutoland Congress Party and Others v Mosisili and Others (1996). This dispute culminated in the splintering of the then-ruling BCP after long and gruelling internal rancour. The then prime minister and leader of the party, Ntsu Mokhehle, finally left the BCP and formed the LCD in 1997, which immediately became the government because it had the majority of members in the National Assembly. This move was unprecedented and sent shock waves through the national and international community. 

The facts of this case can be noted briefly as follows: Four constituencies affiliated to the BCP had approached the High Court seeking to nullify the outcome of an elective conference held from 8 to 11 March 1996. The basis of their complaint was that irregularities had marred the conference. The court found that irregularities had marred the conference but, rather bizarrely, ordered that “the entire proceedings of the BCP Conference of 8 – 11 March 1996 be referred to the leader of the BCP Dr Ntsu Mokhehle for amicable settlement” (para 133). The court’s rationale for referring the dispute back to the leader for amicable settlement was cast thus:

Evidence was confused as on whom, after the elections, power fell. As there was no evidence of the outgoing committee having handed over to the incoming committee moreover as it was established by evidence that there were two rival groups within the BCP with no group willing to yield to the other, and moreover as it was established by evidence which this court believed that members of the Elections Committee at the March 1996 conference belonged to the rival groups, and more importantly as it was not established by evidence that the leader of the BCP Dr Ntsu Mokhehle belongs to any of the rival factions … (para 33).

The court directed that such an amicable settlement had to be completed within 14 days from the date of judgement with the possibility of an extension, which could not extend beyond 30 days. The court stated that, should the amicable settlement not be proceeded on within the stipulated time or such extension of time as may have been granted by the court, or if any of the parties wished to approach the court for any reason, a party wishing to do so could set the matter down to have such questions determined by the court (para 134). Not entirely unexpectedly, the approach did not work, and the parties returned to the court, where the court ordered that a new conference be organised (Mosisili and Others v Mokhehle and Others, 1997). The last court-ordered conference was held in February 1997. The conference was held amid an already soured relationship between the executive committee and the party’s leader. As expected, the delegates of the conference organised by the leader’s rivals staged a vote of no confidence in the leader and purportedly removed him from his position. The leader approached the High Court again for an order nullifying his removal (Ntsu Mokhehle v Molapo Qhobela and Others, 1997). The court decided that the removal of the leader was invalid because it was not on the agenda. However, it was decided that Ntsu Mokhehle’s term as the leader of the BCP had expired in January 1997, and he would remain the interim leader while a new conference was organised to elect the leader. Since the relationship between the then leader and the executive committee had already broken down irretrievably, the leader defected from the BCP and announced the formation of a new party, the LCD. 

This case demonstrates the way in which the court had entirely misread the conflict situation within the BCP and started by improperly applying the amicable settlement approach. The internal conflict in the BCP had a long history and had always orbited the leader. Suggesting that the leader, who was at the centre of the conflict, should preside over an attempt to find an amicable solution to the problem was a recipe for disaster. 

The contractarian approach 

The contractarian approach is not unique to Lesotho; it is a common approach in disputes concerning the interpretation of political party constitutions. For instance, the Constitutional Court of South Africa reiterated this time-honoured principle in Ramakatsa and Others v Magashule and Others (2012). The case concerned the internal disputes within the ANC in the Free State province. The applicants sought to set aside as invalid the Free State provincial conference of the ANC and all its outcomes on the grounds that there were irregularities in many of the branch meetings that elected delegates to the provincial conference.
The applicants claimed that their rights under the constitution of the party had been breached. The court agreed and consequently declared the conference, its decisions and its resolutions unlawful and invalid. In espousing the contractarian approach, the court stated that the ANC was a voluntary association as it had been established by agreement – the ANC’s constitution. It was not a body established by statute. The ANC’s constitution constitutes “the terms of the agreement entered into by its members. Thus the relationship between the party and its members is contractual. It is taken to be a unique contract” (para 79).

The superior courts in Lesotho often apply the contractarian approach. For instance, the approach was adopted in the High Court’s recent decision in Cekwane and Others v Basotho National Party and Others (2020). The dispute arose during the run-up to the Basotho National Party (BNP) elective conference in July 2019. The applicants argued that, among other things, the nomination of candidates as constituency committee members of the BNP for Qacha’s Nek, Qoaling, Qhalasi and Mafeteng should be reviewed and set aside, and fresh constituency elections should be held. The court agreed. The court invoked the contractarian principle and rejected the argument that members did not have the standing to sue the party. The court held that as members of the party they were inherently qualified to sue the party “through its structures where they entertain a founded conviction that it has either by conduct or omission violated its constitution. Their right and authority to do so originates from a supportive legal reality that a constitution of political party is actually a sui generis contract” (para 18). 

It was common cause that, although the party did not experience a split as such, it experienced a major defection when its member in parliament, Mr Joang Molapo, defected (The Post, 2020). Molapo had contested the position of leader of the party, which he lost to the incumbent leader, Machesetsa Mofomobe. This outcome reveals that the simmering conflicts within the party were never resolved by referring the disputes to the court. Although party members often exalt their constitutions, overreliance on the contractarian approach always has its own risks. Party constitutions often have deficiencies, such as ambiguity, dictatorship and unfairness (Korokoro Constituency Committee v Executive Working Committee – All Basotho Convention, 2019). Hence, if the courts disregard these inherent causes of conflict in resolving internal party conflicts, this does not help conflict but only exacerbates it. 

The most recent incident is the case of Revolution for Prosperity (RFP), a new political party formed a few months ahead of the 2022 general elections. The RFP introduced a unique and controversial selection method for its candidates for the 2022 elections. The method had two stages in the selection process: popular election and a ‘merit-based selection’ by the party’s National Executive Committee. The four best performers in the primary elections were subjected to the so-called interviews, the outcome of which was to be approved by the party’s leadership (Letsie, 2023). The outcome of the interview process was that some hopefuls who had won the popular vote during the primary elections were not endorsed as party candidates; those who ‘performed well’ at the interview were endorsed as candidates even though some did not win the popular vote. The process and its outcomes generated much controversy, and some losers dragged the RFP to the courts of law (Ralentsoe v Toloane,2022). The applicants complained that the decision of the Executive Committee not to endorse them despite being elected by popular vote violated Article 9 of the RFP Constitution. The article provides that members have a right to participate in the party’s affairs. The court agreed with the applicants that the Executive Committee did not have the power to deprive the elected candidates of their right to contest elections as RFP’s candidates at the election. The court ruled that: “[i]t is declared that the applicant’s constitutional right to participate in the affairs of the party (RFP) and the right to participate in the national elections on behalf of the party in terms of Article 9 of the party Constitution has been violated by the party” (para 54).

As a result, the popular candidates were allowed through the court order to stand for the party against the will of the party leadership. This became the source of protracted internal party strife. Even though the party did not immediately experience visible cracks after the court case, some fractures started showing a few months after the elections. Even after the elections, the members who represented the party and were elected based on the order were viewed mainly as ‘rebels’. The fissures between these members of parliament and the party continued to widen until they, on one occasion, voted against the party line and openly criticised and opposed government policy (The Post, 2023a). The crescendo of this conflict was the disciplinary process against, and the resultant suspension of, three members (Mahali Phamotse, Thuso Makhalanyane and Rethabile Letlailana) from the party for six years (The Post, 2023b). The spectacle is unending as the suspended members returned to court to challenge the suspension (Lesotho Times, 2023). The conflict that is crippling the RFP has far-reaching implications for the stability of the RFP-led coalition government, the performance of the party in the succeeding elections and, as is the pattern with all leading political parties that came before the party, has the potential to harm the party’s political dominance. 

The zero-sum approach

While Lesotho’s contemporary political history is replete with court-instigated party defections and breakaways, four major incidents demonstrate how the zero-sum approach has invariably failed to manage internal party conflicts. The first incident occurred during the transitional period when the country was transitioning from a military junta to a democracy. The first democratic elections were scheduled for 1993. With a view to contesting the elections as a united body, the belligerent factions struck a short-lived truce. The BCP organised an elective conference in January 1992, the first conference to elect the executive committee since 1969 (Sekatle, 1997). Prominent party members Gerard Ramoreboli, Phoka Chaolana and Khauta Khasu, who had been engaged in continuing disagreements with the leader, Ntsu Mokhehle, challenged the outcome of the conference in the High Court (Pule, 1999). The challenge was unsuccessful, and they broke away from the BCP to form a new political party, the Hareeng Basotho Party (HBP).

The second significant incident was the formation of the LCD in 1997. Following a protracted conflict within the BCP, the High Court attempted a hybrid approach – combining the amicable settlement and zero-sum methods. In the first case of Mokhotlong Constituency Committee of Basutoland Congress Party and Others v Mosisili and Others (1996), the court adopted an amicable approach but failed to resolve the conflict. Several other applications and counter-applications ensued, but all were in vain. In the last case, Ntsu Mokhehle v Molapo Qhobela and Others (1997), the court adopted the zero-sum approach and declared as unlawful the removal of the then BCP leader, Ntsu Mokhehle. However, the court made a further adverse finding that Mokhehle’s term as a leader had long expired and he would therefore be an “interim leader” until a new leader was elected. This finding, coupled with the already deep fissures between him and the executive committee, led Mokhehle to announce that he was forming a new political party, the LCD. 

The third court-instigated defection was that of the deputy leader of the ABC, Tlali Khasu, in 2017, after losing a court battle over his 90-day suspension from taking part in the ABC executive committee’s activities. Khasu challenged his suspension in the High Court, where he lost; he appealed to the Court of Appeal, where he lost again (Khasu v Thabane and Others 2016). After losing the court case, he decided to defect from the ABC and announced the formation of his new breakaway party, the True Reconciliation Unity (TRU), in January 2017 (Lesotho Times, 2017).

The fourth major court-instigated breakaway was the formation of the Alliance of Democrats (AD), a splinter party of the Democratic Congress (DC). The leader of the DC, Pakalitha Mosisili, and his deputy, Monyane Moleleki, had been in conflict for some time. In November 2016, the executive committee made some drastic and dramatic decisions. It purportedly suspended Mosisili from the executive committee. Thereafter, it appointed Moleleki as the acting leader, withdrew the DC from a seven-party ruling coalition and announced a coalition agreement for a government of national unity with the then-opposition party, the ABC (Lesotho Times, 2016). Mosisili responded by calling the party’s special conference to discipline what he called “rebels” of the executive committee. Moleleki sought to block the conference by launching a High Court application, and Mosisili launched an application challenging his suspension (Lesotho Times, 2016). The High Court consolidated and heard the two cases together, and Moleleki lost the court bid. After that, the special conference suspended Moleleki and nine other members of the party’s National Executive Committee for six years. Moleleki viewed the measure as political banishment and decided to form a new party, the AD. The consequences of his defection were far-reaching and even affected the country. The prime minister lost a vote of no confidence in parliament and responded by calling for an early election in 2017.

Conclusions and recommendations

This paper investigated the role that the courts in Lesotho have played in resolving internal party disputes. It analysed the major splits in the post-1993 history of Lesotho. Invariably, it is evident that most major splits resulted from unresolved internal party disputes. These disputes were referred to the courts of law for resolution. The courts tried several methods to resolve party disputes: amicable, contractarian and zero-sum. In some instances, the courts even tried hybridised methods, as in the case of the internal BCP conflicts that culminated in the formation of the LCD in 1997 (Pule, 1999; Sekatle, 1997; Sekatle, 1999). Nevertheless, the conflicts have resulted in splits and defections. This shows that the courts, using their conventional methods, are not the correct forum for resolving internal party conflicts. 

Because of the adversarial and win-lose nature of the courts’ approach, the courts’ decisions leave the parties in conflict feeling mistrustful. Another key finding is that the legal framework for resolving internal political party disputes is inefficient. Political parties’ constitutions often do not provide for a fair dispute resolution framework within the party. Most of the constitutions entrust the party hierarchy with dispute resolution.
The problem with this approach is that it lacks fairness and expertise. As demonstrated in the case of the ABC, as the Court of Appeal observed, the ouster clause in the party’s constitution largely serves to protect party executives from scrutiny by the general membership. The party executives, as decision-makers, are inherently conflicted. Thus, it violates the rules of natural justice when the person interested in the outcome of the dispute resolution process becomes the sole and final arbiter. The statutory framework for the registration of political parties – the Societies Act of 1966 and the National Assembly Electoral Act of 2011 – does not help either. These two pieces of legislation do not allow the Registrar of Societies or the IEC to assist in internal party disputes. 

Since courts of law are an ill-suited mechanism for resolving internal party conflicts, it is recommended that the Alternative Dispute Resolution (ADR) framework be instituted for political parties. The ADR framework should be mandated by legislation and be operationalised by party constitutions and rules. The law should not preclude courts of law from resolving internal party disputes as that may be unconstitutional, but the ADR process should mandatorily precede a court’s intervention in the internal affairs of political parties. The institutionalisation of the ADR will go a long way towards stabilising democracy in general and the political party system in particular.

Reference list

African National Congress. (2017) ANC Constitution as Amended and Adopted at the 54^th National Conference, Nasrec, Johannesburg. [Internet]. Available from: <https://www.anc1912.org.za/wp-content/uploads/2021/01/ANC-Constitution-2017.pdf> [Accessed 28 October 2022].

Alan, S. (2003) Two-and-a-half-party systems and the comparative role of the ‘half’. Party politics, 9 (3), pp. 267–290.

Aleyomi, M.B. (2013) Intra-party conflicts in Nigeria: the case study of Peoples Democratic Party (PDP). Journal of Sustainable Development in Africa, 15 (4), pp. 281–296.

Anjorin,J. B. and Danladi, M.A. (2021) Party politics and conflict resolution in Nigeria:
A critical assessment of 2018 primary elections. International Journal of Management, Social Sciences, Peace and Conflict Studies, 4 (4), pp. 87–102. 

Awofeso, O.A and Ogunmilade, A. (2017) The effect of intra-party conflict management mechanism on democratic consolidation in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic. Developing Country Studies, 7 (7), pp. 96–102.

Bogaards, M. (2004) Counting parties and identifying dominant party systems in Africa. European Journal of Political Research, 43, pp. 173–197.

Cekwane and Others v Basotho National Party and Others (CIV/APN/245/18) [2019] LSHC 28 [Internet], 11 August 2020. Available from: <https://lesotholii.org/akn/ls/judgment/lshc/2020/28/eng@2020-08-11> [Accessed 15 October 2022].

Croissant, A. and Volkel, P. (2012) Party system types and party system institutionalisation: Comparing new democracies in East and Southeast Asia. Party Politics, 18 (2), pp. 235–265.

Edlin, D. (2009) A constitutional right to judicial review: access to courts and ouster clauses in England and the United States. The American Journal of Comparative Law, 57 (1), pp. 67–101.

Erdmann, G. and Basedau, M. (2008) Party systems in Africa: Problems of categorising and explaining party systems. Journal of Contemporary African Studies, 26(3), pp. 241–258.

Gherghina, S., Close, C. and Kopecky, P. (2019) The dynamics and dimensions of intra-party conflict: introduction to the special issue. Party Politics, 25 (5), pp. 649– 651.

Ibrahim, B. and Abubakar, Y. (2015) Political parties and intra party conflict in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic: The experience of the People’s Democratic Party (PDP).[Internet]. Available from: <https://www.researchgate.net/publication/292577549_Political_Parties_and_Intra_party_Conflict_in_Nigeria’s_Fourth_
Republc_The_Experience_of_the_Peoples_Democratic_Party_PDP> [Accessed 5 October 2022].

Khasu v Thabane and Others (C of A (CIV) 46/ 2016) [2016] LSCA 25 [Internet], 28 October 2016. Available from: <https://old.lesotholii.org/ls/judgment/court-appeal/2016/25> [Accessed 10 January 2023].

Korokoro Constituency Committee v Executive Working Committee – All Basotho Convention (C OF A (CIV) 04/2019) [2019] LSCA 22 [Internet], 28 January 2019. Available from: <https://old.lesotholii.org/ls/judgment/court-appeal/2019/22> [Accessed 20 October 2022]. 

Kotzé, D. (2002) Issues in conflict resolution. African Journal on Conflict Resolution, 2 (2), pp. 1–15.

Kukec, M. (2019) Intra-party conflict at grassroots: Party-councillor ideological congruence in Croatia. Party Politics, 25 (5),
pp. 679–689.

Lesotho Times. (2016) Moleleki raps Mosisili. Lesotho Times [Internet], 10 December. Available from: < https://lestimes.com/moleleki-raps-mosisili/> [Accessed 15 May 2023].

Lesotho Times. (2017) I’m Forming a New Party: Khasu. Lesotho Times [Internet], 6 January. Available from: < https://lestimes.com/im-forming-a-new-party-khasu/> [Accessed 17 October 2022].

Lesotho Times. (2023) Phamotse, Makhalanyane challenge suspension. Lesotho Times [Internet], 12 September. Available from: <https://lestimes.com/phamotse-makhalanyane-challenge-suspension/> [Accessed 18 September 2023]. 

Letsie, T. (2023) Screening political party candidates and the implications for electoral performance: The case of the Revolution for Prosperity (RFP) in Lesotho`s 2022 general elections. Journal for African elections, 22 (1), pp. 59–81.

Likoti, F. (2005) Investigating intra-party democracy in Lesotho: Focus on Basutoland Congress Party and Basotho National Party. Johannesburg, EISA.

Matlosa, K. and Sello, C. (2005) Political Parties and Democratisation in Lesotho. EISA research report no. 23. Johannesburg, EISA.

Mokhotlong Constituency Committee of Basutoland Congress Party and Others v Mosisili and Others (CIV/APN/ 84/ 96) [1996] LSHC 101 [Internet], 18 October 1996. Available from: <https://new2.lesotholii.org/akn/ls/judgment/lshc/1996/101/eng@1996-10-18> [Accessed 16 October 2022].

Momodu, A. J. and Matudi, G. I. (2013) The implications of intra party conflicts on Nigeria’s democratisation. Global Journal of Human Social Science, 13 (6), pp. 1–13. 

Mosisili and Others v Mokhehle and Others (CIV/APN/24/97) [1997] LSHC 20 [Internet], 14 February 1997. Available from: <https://media.lesotholii.org/files/judgments/lshc/1997/20/1997-lshc-20.pdf> [Accessed 15 October 2022]. 

Nnaemeka, F.O. (2019) Mediation and methods of conflict resolution. In: Obugu O.C. and Ndubuisi N.A. eds. Introduction to Peace and Conflict: A Comprehensive and Multi-perspective Exploration. Enugu, Gostak Printing and Publishing. pp. 18–34.

Ntsu Mokhehle v Molapo Qhobela and Others (CIV/APN/75/97) [1997]

Obi, N.O. (2018) Resolving political party disputes through alternative dispute resolution. Journal of Political Science and Leadership Research, 4 (4), pp. 28–41.

Panebianco, A. (1988) Political Parties: Organisation and Power. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press.

Pule, N.W. (1999) Power struggles in the Basutoland Congress Party, 1991-1997. Lesotho Social Sciences Review, 5 (1), pp. 1–30.

Rahim, M.A. (2002) Toward a theory of managing organisational conflict. The International Journal of Conflict Management, 13 (3), pp. 206–235. 

Ralentsoe v Toloane (CIV/APN/0257/2022) [2022] LSHC 153 [Internet], 1 September 2022. Available from: <https://lesotholii.org/akn/ls/judgment/lshc/2022/153/eng@2022-09-01> [Accessed 21 September 2023].

Ramakatsa and Others v Magashule and Others (CCT 109/12) [2012] ZACC 31; 2013 (2) BCLR 202 (CC) [Internet], 18 December 2012. Available from: <http://www.saflii.org/za/cases/ZACC/2012/31.html> [Accessed 11 October 2022]. 

Ranny, A. and Kendall, W. (1954) The American party systems. The American Political Science review, 48 (2), pp. 477–485.

Sekatle, P. (1997) The establishment of Lesotho Congress for Democracy: Implications for the 1998 General Election. Lesotho Social Science Review, 3 (2), pp. 69–92.

Sekatle, P. (1999) The Lesotho general election of 1998. Lesotho Social Sciences Review, 5 (1), pp. 31–45.

Shale, V. (2016) Political parties and political instability in Lesotho. In: Thabane, M. ed. Towards an anatomy of political instability in Lesotho 1966–2016. Maseru, National University of Lesotho. 

Shale, V. and Matlosa, K. (2008) Managing intra-party and inter-party conflict in Lesotho. Johannesburg, EISA. 

The Post. (2020) BNP blasts Joang. The Post [Internet], 4 August. Available from: <https://www.thepost.co.ls/news/bnp-blasts-joang/> [Accessed 15 January 2023].

The Post. (2023a) Vote exposes RFP split. The Post [Internet], 12 September. Available from: <https://www.thepost.co.ls/news/vote-exposes-rfp-split/> [Accessed 18 September 2023].

The Post. (2023b) Rebel MPs fight back. The Post [Internet], 12 September. Available from: <https://www.thepost.co.ls/news/rebel-mps-fight-back/> [Accessed 17 September 2023].

The post The Role of the Judiciary in the Resolution of Intra-Party Conflicts in Lesotho appeared first on ACCORD.

Wars by nature are devastating but women and men experience wars differently; men may bear the brunt of the war, but it is women who are adversely affected because these wars are also fought on women’s bodies. With that in mind, women in Sierra Leone saw the aftermath of the 11-year Civil War as an opportunity to advocate women’s empowerment. It is against this backdrop that the editors and contributors submit War, Women and Post-conflict Empowerment: Lessons from Sierra Leone after years of research as “a result of a labour of love”. It is a love letter to the people of Sierra Leone which boasts an innovative conglomerate of diverse contributors whose genesis was in the Special Panel sponsored by the African Studies Association Women’s Caucus at its 2014 annual meeting. The title of the panel was “The Politics of Women’s Empowerment in Post-war Sierra Leone.” Papers presented in this conference were later published in a special issue of African and Asian Studies in 2015. The book was published in 2022 by Zed Books (Bloomsbury Publishing, London). 

By methodically diving deep into the historiography of Sierra Leone part one of the book sets the tone for the trajectory it takes the readers through: the significance of storytelling in the post-war period and how it is intrinsic to reconciliation and paving a path towards reconstructing the social and moral fabric of a war-torn country. Part two takes us through the voyage into the early political career of Zainab Hawa Bangura (1994–2005), followed by the linguistic vitriol, bastardisation, intimidation, and violence against women who dare to “transgress” into politics-men’s “turf”. The centring of women chiefs as conduits to their societies bridges the gap between traditional and modern spaces, thus highlighting the vital role of these women. Even with their declining numbers, their impact in their communities did not go unnoticed. Part three draws on women’s legal, social, and political intersectionality which has shaped and continues to shape their activism. Lastly, part four takes us through various insightful approaches that Sierra Leonean women have used to make strides in their collective activism and the numerous issues that they must work through to consolidate this.

Women in Sierra Leone have relied on various women and motherly attributes to assert themselves in ending the war, managing post-war and curbing the Ebola epidemic and Covid-19 outbreak. This book illuminates women’s resourcefulness and collective mobilisation in ending the war, and their fight for their recognition and protection as peacebuilders and agents of change in their respective capacities in the aftermath of the war. The passage of the three gender laws in 2007 namely the Domestic Violence Act, the Devolution of Estates Act and the Registration of Customary Marriage and Divorce Act, have significantly elevated the status of women in their families and communities. The 2012 Sexual Offences Act (which criminalises marital rape) has also been a triumphant law which has safeguarded women’s rights within their homes and, thus, has accentuated the importance of women’s bodily autonomy.

Women and girls were forcefully engaged in the Civil War either as military combatants, or as, – “wives”, spies, cooks in rebel camps or, child soldiers. They were victims of sexual abuse, gang rapes, killings, amputations, abductions, and displacement. With the Revolutionary United Front (RUF) leading the cases of documented reports of rapes at 67.1%, the Armed Forces Revolutionary Council (AFRC) following suit, along with the Sierra Leone Army (SLA) and the civil defence forces (CDF), it is evident, that rape and various forms of sexual abuse were used as weapons of war. The Truth and Reconciliation Commission for Sierra Leone found that the RUF used the rape of women and girls to publicly humiliate and intimidate their male relatives or to compel women into forced marriages with the male combatants. It is worth noting that the government failed to prioritise key issues which were the root cause of the war. The Truth and Reconciliation Commission for Sierra Leone described as “years of bad governance, epidemic corruption and denial of basic human rights which created the deplorable conditions that made conflict inevitable” (p xvi). 

By demystifying the fears and anxieties parents have about educating their girl children, this book strategically models creative ways that can inspire parents to invest in the education of their daughters because it has far- reaching benefits for their families and communities. Instead of focusing solely on the education of girls through government sponsored scholarships, the book suggests a turn towards “gender justice” instead of the neoliberal idea of “gender equality”. The former serves as a redress method while the latter erodes differences between genders and thus leads to an inverse bifurcation of genders. Put simply, for the Sierra Leone people investing simultaneously in the education of the girl child and boy child optimises their society’s chances of survival and economic prosperity. This is contrary to the education system espousing British patriarchal ideas which were imposed and later adopted by Sierra Leoneans and which intended to enforce hegemonic heteronormative binaries of masculinity and femininity.

Mothernity occupied a central role in how mothers used their maternal intuition as a form of diffusing the war and bringing the warring factions to the negotiation table. This subsequently led to the end of the war and mobilised former rebel group leaders and child soldiers to a path of peacebuilding and demobilisation. Amid the debilitating effects of war Sierra Leone’s women’s reliance on mothernity reminded the warring factions of the significance of listening to their mothers (motherhood is more social than simply biological) and the ramifications of ignoring their mothers’ cautioning words. 

The inability of the women of Sierra Leone to rally around reproductive health issues, such as abortion rights due to religious differences, prohibits them from countering patriarchal expedient laws and continues to erode women’s abilities to make informed decisions about their bodies. It is in their diversity that we see them rallying behind women’s universal issues, such as protection from sexual violence (sweeping rape cases under the rug, especially those committed by family members or, – influential men within the community, instead of reporting them to the relevant authorities), and patriarchal inheritance laws (prohibiting women from inheriting their late husbands’ estates and being “inherited” by their brothers-in-law as wives). Rallying behind a woman presidential candidate and women’s reproductive rights, such as the right to terminate a pregnancy, are yet to be seen. Women in Sierra Leone are accustomed to placing their support for political candidates within the confines of their political parties. Men are usually the preferred political candidates as they are socially and economically palatable to the country’s political landscape. This limits women’s political engagement to merely being men’s auxiliaries. These fragmentations have also served as a reminder of how women can internalise patriarchal norms – as many of them can act as patriarchy’s foot soldiers, – thus maintaining patriarchal privilege.

According to the book, the country has been unable to pass into law through parliament the 30% gender quota in the public and private life (Gender Equality Bill). It has failed to create a conducive environment to increase women’s political participation and eliminate political violence against women during elections. The authors recommend that “post-war rebuilding programs should avoid one size fits all policies and, instead, deploy flexible and responsive strategies that account for women’s unique educational, socio-political, economic, and cultural circumstances and experiences” (p 41). Furthermore, the book clearly states that there must be a radical shift against dominant attitudes embraced by men about women; – put simply, men and women must work together to change and challenge widespread gendered societal norms which confine women to the margins of society. 

The book seamlessly traces, – and details complex and multi-layered roles portrayed by women in Sierra Leone in pre-war, war and post-war periods as they collectively mobilised themselves into a force to be reckoned with. It further exhibits how gender transformation and change do not occur on their own, transformation and change happen because of collective work done by different generations of women over time, along with their male allies who are committed to gender justice. Through this book one can see that the dominant portrayal of women as passive victims of war with men as the overarching protectors has been successfully contested and skilfully debunked. This book is a crucial and timely contribution to expanding literature on women, war, and post conflict reconstruction as it meticulously accentuates copious applications in which women’s agency in Sierra Leone has been deployed to secure their hard-won gains. 

The post War, Women and Post-conflict Empowerment: Lessons from Sierra Leone appeared first on ACCORD.

According to the Secretary General of the United Nations (UN), Antonio Guterres, 2021 was a year marked by ‘an epidemic’ of coups.¹ The Economist noted that 2021 saw more coups than the previous five years combined.² Scrutinising the data further reveals that the West African region experienced the largest number of military coups, both successful and failed, during 2021 and 2022. There were four successful coups d’état in Mali, Guinea and Burkina Faso, and failed coup attempts and mutiny in Niger and Guinea Bissau between March 2021 to January 2022. This democratic reversal portends political instability, and its attendant economic consequences for the ECOWAS are concerning considering the developmental agenda of the region.³

The focus of this article is examining measures for strengthening democratic transitions in Mali, Guinea and Burkina Faso by analysing responses at the national, regional and international levels to ensure rapid restoration of constitutional order. It begins by reviewing the experience of the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS) in supporting democratic transition in the region, while stressing and recognising the interlinkages between defence, development and peacebuilding in laying the foundation for democratisation, peace and sustainable development. The article will advance certain policy prescriptions that entail long-term investments by the international community, and regional and civil society actors in West Africa in the areas of defence, development and peacebuilding, as part of a comprehensive support towards successful democratic transition in the affected countries.

Background

Following the coups in Mali, Guinea and Burkina Faso, the juntas set up the Charter of the Transition and transitional governments, respectively, and communicated their desire to organise presidential or general elections as soon as possible for a return of civilians to power. But in some countries, respecting the initial schedule seems to be a problem. This was the case in Mali, where another coup struck in May 2021, which saw Colonel Assim Goita being sworn in to lead the transitional government. Analysts have advanced various reasons behind the duration and non-respect of the agenda of the transition after coups in Africa. They have linked this concern to the political ambition of the military in power and to the complex political and security context of the states concerned. Once in power after the coup, the putschists used various means to delay the transition as long as possible.⁴

Consequently, the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS) Authority of Heads of States and Government and the African Union Peace and Security Council (AU-PSC) suspended the membership of Mali, Guinea and Burkina Faso from their respective institutions and activities, and called, separately, for a restoration of constitutional order within the shortest possible transition period. Furthermore, ECOWAS imposed strict sanctions on Mali, including the closure of land and air borders. However, experience has shown that the use of sanctions stands little chance of leading to sustainable democracy and durable development in the absence of popular support and political and security strategies that address the underlying conditions and drivers of coups. Tensions between ECOWAS and transitional authorities in the aforementioned Member States have not subsided. 

While the outcomes of coups d’état in the aforementioned countries are still unfolding, ECOWAS has provided technical support for the transition, particularly in Mali. ECOWAS, working with other actors, supported the Malian authority to develop a workable transition chronogram which can be implemented within an acceptable timeframe. This support was undertaken against the backdrop of the extensive experience of ECOWAS in managing political transitions. ECOWAS’ support for political transitions in Mali after the Captain Amadou Sanogo-led coup in 2012 is instructive. Similarly, ECOWAS supported democratic transition in other Member States, such as Niger (2010), following the military’s seizure of power after President Mahmadou Tandjah attempted an extension of his term limit, and Burkina Faso (2014), after the forced departure of Blaise Compaore. Due to the breakdown of constitutional order in less than a decade, analysts have questioned how effective ECOWAS’ support is.

The circumstances prevailing under the current transitions in Mali, Guinea and Burkina Faso are debilitating and highly complex. While the three countries suffer entrenched, complex political governance challenges, the situation worsened in Mali and Burkina Faso as these two countries have been confronted with violent extremism and other associated criminal activities. The Armed Conflict Location & Event Data Project (ACLED) figures show that 610 violent incidents took place, mainly involving violent extremist groups, between 25 January and 8 April 2022, in which 567 people in Burkina Faso were killed.⁵ Similarly, looking at the 2021 Fragile State Index, affected ECOWAS Member States – notably Mali and Guinea – were categorised as alert countries, while Burkina Faso is characterised as a High Warning country.⁶ The 2020 Peace Index estimates that the economic cost of violence as a percentage of gross domestic product (GDP) in affected ECOWAS Member States are: Mali (16%), Burkina Faso (14%), and Guinea (4%).⁷ The economic and financial sanctions imposed by ECOWAS and the West African Economic and Monetary Union (WAEMU) on 9 January 2022 considerably clouded the economic outlook for Mali in 2022. Similarly, the rising humanitarian problems in the affected Member States are deplorable. In Mali, the number of internally displaced people (IDPs) increased significantly, bringing the total to over 380 000 people.⁸ Burkina Faso faced the largest forced displacement crisis in the Sahel, accounting for 64% of all displaced people in the region.⁹ In West and Central Africa, there were 58 million people in a state of food insecurity.¹⁰ 

With violence persisting, the initial euphoria of the coups has subsided, making way for criticism of the new transitional authorities’ inability to restore security.¹¹ The military as an institution is less capacitated to steer governance in a democratic setting due to its entrenched autocratic institutional tendencies. For instance, many doubted that transitional authorities in Mali would have enough time or legitimacy to undertake extensive reforms.¹² More importantly, supporting a military-led transition can be challenging as the armed forces can interfere with or exploit emergency situations to further extend their hold of power. For example, the future of political transition is bleak in Guinea. The Transition Charter adopted by Colonel Doumbouya makes the duration of the transition indefinite to the benefit of the ruling military authorities. Article 77 of the Charter indicates that the duration of the transition will be determined by mutual agreement with the national community. 

It is noteworthy that managing transitions towards a sustainable democracy is a fundamentally endogenous process, meaning that internal efforts and initiatives should drive the ultimate outcomes. However, the role of international actors such as ECOWAS, the AU and the UN in supporting affected countries is essential in ensuring a successful democratic transition. However, the present focus of these international partners on respecting the transitional timeframe at the expense of long-term efforts aimed at strengthening the state through the interlinkages of defence, development and peacebuilding is likely to achieve marginal results. The crises in Mali, Guinea and Burkina Faso are an opportunity for the international community to demonstrate their strong political will and commitment to the ideals of collective self-help, democratisation and sustainable development.

ECOWAS, the AU and the UN have a long history of useful and supportive collaboration in conflict prevention, management and resolution activities. This can be further enhanced to support the management of democratic transition. The UN Charter, the Memorandum of Understanding between the AU and RECs on Peace and Security, the ECOWAS Conflict Prevention Framework, and other relevant international instruments recognise the imperatives of coherence, subsidiarity, comparative advantage and complementarity among the UN-AU-ECOWAS peace and security efforts. This approach is necessary for a constructive engagement with the transitional governments in laying the foundation for long-term development by promoting respect for democratic tenets and justice, reinforcing democratic institutions, and helping stable democracy to take hold in Mali, Guinea and Burkina Faso. 

Political transition in West Africa: The context and dynamics

West Africa is home to some of Africa’s stable countries, such as Ghana and Senegal, and several countries have successfully transitioned from war to peace, including Côte d’Ivoire, Liberia and Sierra Leone. ECOWAS embraces a traditional liberal peace approach to the management of political transition, whereby elections are a necessary step to effective transition. In addition, the regional body prioritised civilian-led transitions guided by an ethos of inclusivity, consensus, justice, dialogue and promptness. However, there have been occasions where ECOWAS has followed a blended method, combining a traditional liberal peace approach with hard military intervention, especially when the affected country has a complex security situation alongside the breakdown of constitutional order. This was the case of the ECOWAS intervention in the political transition in Mali after the Captain Amadou Sanogo-led coup in 2012. 

ECOWAS’ intervention in Mali in 2012 is instructive in the regional body’s experience of managing political transition. ECOWAS was the driving force behind the restoration of constitutional order in Mali. It was involved from the Framework Agreement through to the establishment of the Dialogue and Reconciliation Commission and the Preliminary Agreement towards Elections and National Dialogue, which paved the way for the holding of Presidential and Legislative elections in Mali. Also, the ECOWAS-facilitated Transitional Roadmap and the ECOWAS Concept of Operations (CONOPS) served as the basis for the Strategic and Operational frameworks for the international military intervention in Mali in 2012. Notwithstanding these efforts, the request for authorisation of the African-led International Support Mission to Mali (AFISMA) and provision of voluntary and UN-funded logistics support packages to AFISMA, including equipment and services for an initial period of one year, was not heeded by the UN Security Council (UNSC). Nickels argues that the ‘UN and some Western governments declined to back and finance the AU and ECOWAS’ intervention proposals due to concerns about planning and a keenness for non-military options’.¹³ However, others have argued that the UN’s refusal to support ECOWAS and its subsequent takeover mission through MINUSMA demonstrated a lack of acknowledgement of ongoing regional counterterrorism efforts in Mali. In fact, the then US Assistant Secretary for African Affairs, Susan Rice, pointedly queried ECOWAS for referring the matter to the UN when the Region had initially confronted similar challenges in the Mano River Basin on its own.¹⁴ Nevertheless, ECOWAS’ support in other Member States like Niger (2010) and Burkina Faso (2014) enabled a swift return to constitutional order orchestrated under a civilian-led transition.

Reviewing external responses to political transitions in Mali, Guinea and Burkina Faso 

ECOWAS’ diplomatic engagements with transition authorities were critical in reaching some degree of compromise with national stakeholders to facilitate democratic transitions in Burkina Faso, Guinea and Mali. Up to the period of writing this article, ECOWAS has held six Extraordinary Summits and deployed four mediation and follow-up missions to Burkina Faso, Guinea and Mali. 

Mali 

ECOWAS’ support to engender democratic transition in Mali was underpinned at three levels: diplomatic, technical and political. At the diplomatic level, the ECOWAS Authority appointed H.E. Dr Goodluck Ebele Jonathan, former President of the Federal Republic of Nigeria, as Mediator to Mali. Jonathan engaged with the protesters under the aegis of M5-RFP, which insisted on the departure of President Ibrahim Boubacar Keita. However, the inability of the ECOWAS mediation to strike a comprise between the Keita government and the M5-RFP led to the coup d’état of 18 August 2020. However, through ECOWAS’ mediation efforts, an 18-month transitional government was set up with a civilian prime minister and the transitional authorities agreed to an electoral calendar to restore democracy in January 2022. A coup within a coup occurred in May 2021, which impacted the timeframe for elections. The transitional authority presented a timetable to hold elections within a period of between six months and five years, which ECOWAS found ‘unacceptable’, and the regional body immediately imposed economic and financial sanctions on Mali, including the closure of land and air borders.¹⁵ 

These developments attracted mixed reactions from other international partners. For instance, while the AU-PSC, France, the US, and the European Union (EU) supported and endorsed ECOWAS’ decision to impose additional strict sanctions on Mali, China and Russia blocked the adoption of ECOWAS’ decision at the UNSC. Neighbouring Guinea’s transitional authority recused itself from complying with ECOWAS’ sanction on Mali and declared that the air, land and sea borders of the Republic of Guinea always remain open to all allied countries, in accordance with its Pan-Africanist vision. Similarly, Mauritania, an erstwhile member of ECOWAS, signed a new trade agreement with Mali on 14 February 2022. 

The UN Secretary-General and the Special Representative of the Secretary-General (SRSG) for Mali maintained regular consultations with the transitional authorities to encourage the resumption of dialogue and the submission of a consensual electoral calendar, including through the local transition follow-up committee composed of representatives of ECOWAS, the AU and MINUSMA.¹⁶ The EU’s response to the political development in Mali was more severe. The EU imposed targeted sanctions on five individuals believed to be obstructing and undermining Mali’s transition, including Prime Minister Choguel Kokalla Maïga. Amid deteriorating relations with the Malian authorities and the reported deployment in December 2021 of personnel from the Wagner Group, a Russian private security company, France, other European countries and Canada announced the exit of their forces from Operation Barkhane and Task Force Takuba in Mali within six months. 

As the security situation in Mali kept deteriorating, the withdrawal of Operation Barkhane and Task Force Takuba created a vacuum in the securitisation of Mali and the Sahel at large. The withdrawal of Mali from the G5 Sahel portended a possible explosion in the regional counter-terrorism collective security arrangement. The commitment of external actors to salvage the Malian situation has been affected by uncertainties as the global political, security, environmental and post-COVID-19 recovery situations have occupied the centre stage of international diplomacy. Specifically, the Russia-Ukraine crisis and its impacts are expected to continue for a considerable time. Although ECOWAS announced the activation of the ECOWAS Standby Force, the regional body would have to rise to its responsibility in providing leadership, as exemplified in the 1990s during the Liberian civil war in mitigating further threats to democratic transition. 

Burkina Faso

Since 2015, Burkina Faso has been caught up in a spiral of violence attributed to armed jihadist movements affiliated with Al-Qaeda and the Islamic State group, which has left more than 2 000 people dead and 1.8 million displaced. The Damiba-led military authority justified the 24 January 2022 coup d’état by citing the inability of former President Roch Marc Christian Kaboré’s government to provide security in Burkina Faso, although three months after the coup, the military had not been able to reverse the growing insecurity, and incidents of violence occurred almost daily.¹⁷ The fast-declining security and humanitarian situations attracted significant attention from Burkina Faso’s major international partners. In order to facilitate dialogue among all stakeholders, the ECOWAS Authority appointed H.E. Mahamadou Issoufou, former President of the Republic of Niger, as ECOWAS Mediator for Burkina Faso to engage various stakeholders, including the transitional authorities, towards a successful democratic transition in Burkina Faso. In this regard, ECOWAS, in conjunction with the AU and the UN Office for West Africa and the Sahel (UNOWAS), deployed several technical missions to facilitate dialogue between ECOWAS and the transition authorities and to assess the progress made in the process of restoring constitutional order. Consequently, former President Roch Marc Christian Kabore gained partial freedom from detention. Similarly, the ECOWAS Commission provided humanitarian and food aid to IDPs in Burkina Faso. On the other hand, UNOWAS provided support to ECOWAS efforts in assisting the transitional government in Burkina Faso, which is currently facing a difficult security and humanitarian situation. 

Guinea

Following a March 2020 constitutional referendum that allowed Alpha Condé to run for a third term and the October 2020 presidential election, which were marred by violence, a coup was staged and President Condé was arrested.¹⁸ Expectedly, the ECOWAS Authority and the AU suspended Guinea from its activities and decision-making bodies. Similarly, ECOWAS imposed targeted sanctions, including travel bans and asset freezes, on the coup leaders and their families.¹⁹ ECOWAS’ negotiations with the transitional authority resulted in the release of President Condé.

While ECOWAS rejected the proposed 36-month transitional timeframe, the AU announced that, through the established Joint Monitoring Mechanism, it would ensure the provision of requisite technical support to the National Transition Council, especially in areas regarding elections support, social cohesion and constitutionalism, which are critical for the establishment of a sustainable post-transition order.²⁰ Working with ECOWAS, the AU committed to support the finalisation of an acceptable transition timetable. 

Managing democratic transition: Combining defence, development and peacebuilding 

As political transitions remain one of the main flashpoints for democratic reversals and the relapse of conflict and violence across the region, the transitions in Mali, Guinea and Burkina Faso need to be effectively managed and supported while the circumstances prevailing in these countries are complex and debilitating. The context in these countries has necessitated a response to transition settings that combines the predominance and sometimes necessary means of hard security interventions and soft security measures associated with peacebuilding and development responses. Experience has shown that frameworks, tools and investments that focus on the individual pillars of defence, development and peacebuilding concerns in silos are not sufficient to address the growing human security problems in affected countries. A holistic approach that aims at combining each pillar in an integrative manner to take advantage of synergies of the clearly interlinked pillars and avoid challenges is needed.

The current political transitions in Mali, Guinea and Burkina Faso have further opened the doors of opportunity for the adoption of a comprehensive ECOWAS regional transition and post-conflict/authoritarian reconstruction framework. This framework will incorporate mechanisms and supports to promote a swift return of constitutional order, reconstruction measures and sustainable development plans. These services are best implemented comprehensively at strategic and operational levels, involving actors at all levels – national, regional, continental and global.

Defence 

The ECOWAS Member States undergoing political transition continue to suffer from terrorist attacks, with the exception of Guinea. As mentioned previously, the ACLED figures show that 610 violent incidents, mainly involving violent extremist groups, took place between 25 January and 8 April 2022, leading to 567 deaths in Burkina Faso.²¹ Despite the deployment of Operation Malico and Operation Kélétigui by the Malian transitional government, the security situation in the country continues to deteriorate. 

Drawing lessons from previous ECOWAS’ interventions, deployment of the ECOWAS Standby Force for counterterrorism operations will have to meet certain minimum requirements to ensure a successful outcome. First is the understanding that counterterrorism operations are complex, long term and capital intensive, necessitating huge and sustainable resources to be mobilised for its effectiveness. ECOWAS Member States have to translate their expressed commitment to eradicate terrorism from the region into concrete efforts towards mobilising adequate resources. 

The decision to establish a Counterterrorism Fund was a step in the right direction. The ECOWAS Authority of Heads of State and Government arrived at a decision at the Extraordinary Summit on Terrorism held in Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso on 14 September 2019 to commit US$2.3 billion to counterterrorism.²² While it was agreed by Heads of State and Government that US$1 billion would be mobilised internally from voluntary contributions of US$200 million by each member, the remaining 55% of the funding was requested from external financial mechanisms. However, Member States’ efforts toward mobilising these funds have been marginal. Nigeria and Ghana have reportedly disbursed, respectively, US$80 million and US$20 million directly to support national counterterrorism operations, while only US$20 million and US$5 million were remitted to the regional basket. WAEMU has distributed US$100 million to support counterterrorism in its Member States. Considering that terrorism has increasingly become a threat to all 15 ECOWAS Member States, the mobilisation of this funding is urgent. 

The second minimum requirement for the success of ECOWAS’ counterterrorism operations is Member States’ commitment, readiness and capacity to deploy troops. Analysts have criticised ECOWAS troop-contributing countries (TCCs) for not fulfilling their pledge as and when due. However, it should be noted that during the 2012 crisis in Mali, despite logistical, financial and operational challenges, ECOWAS was able to mobilise and deploy over 4 000 troops in a record time of three months.²³ 

Despite a multiplicity of strategies developed by national governments and partners for several years, violence and insecurity linked to terrorism in the Sahel and the Lake Chad Basin regions persist and, in some cases, have worsened.²⁴ Therefore, the third minimum requirement is that the deployment of the Emergency Support Function (ESF) for counterterrorism operations be hinged on a functional counterterrorism strategy, which combines both soft and hard approaches to counterterrorism. ECOWAS should leverage the recently adopted ECOWAS Counterterrorism Strategy and its Plan of Actions to complement current initiatives aimed at combatting terrorism in Mali, Burkina Faso and the ECOWAS region at large. 

Most importantly, there should be international consensus and support from external actors for the deployment of ECOWAS counterterrorism operations in Mali and Burkina Faso. To attain this, ECOWAS needs to demonstrate effective diplomatic capacity to rally international support around its collective security mission to the affected countries. In this regard, ECOWAS should facilitate a Standing Committee Regional Contact Group to acquire a better understanding of international support, ensure improved coordination among international stakeholders, monitor and follow up on the implementation of decisions, and ensure coherence and consistency. 

Development

Many states in the ECOWAS region face severe security problems linked to extreme poverty, economic fragility and inflation – issues compounded by climate security risks.²⁵ A cursory look at various coups d’état in the affected countries reveals a direct link between the degradation of governance, the rule of law and human rights, and military takeover. The current transition periods present opportunities at regional and national levels for the adoption of a developmental model that is relevant, appropriate and responsive to address the remote causes and triggers of coups d’état. Regionally, it offers the chance for ECOWAS and other actors involved in the region’s development to synchronise ECOWAS’ Vision 2050, the AU Vision 2063, and the Global Agenda for Development (2030 Agenda) in an integrative, coherent manner, while paying due attention of the realities in Mali, Guinea, Burkina Faso and other fragile West African countries. All these agendas should be broken down into simple metrics which resonate with national policymakers and local realities, particularly in Mali, Burkina Faso and Guinea. 

At the national level, national development priorities should be inspired by local perceptions, needs, aspirations and priorities to inform policymakers’ understanding and the policy direction of national development. Efforts by transitional authorities to renew the social contract between states and their populations, especially the youth, women and other marginalised groups, should be prioritised. These include the provision of basic social infrastructure and the implementation of development programmes.

Peacebuilding 

According to Boutros Boutros-Ghali in his Agenda for Peace, the concept of peacebuilding is to complement the other three important processes of conflict management: preventive diplomacy, peacemaking, and peacekeeping.²⁶ The core objectives of peacebuilding have since been elaborated to include support to political processes; the provision of basic social, health, and educational health services, including the return and reintegration of internally displaced persons and victims of war; restoring core government functions; and economic revitalisation and the rehabilitation of basic infrastructure.²⁷ 

There is a need for ECOWAS, in collaboration with the AU, UN and other development partners, to enhance peacebuilding initiatives in Mali, Guinea and Burkina Faso. Such initiatives should contribute to enhancing broad participation in transition, promoting institutional reforms, providing technical assistance in conducting credible elections, and promoting social justice, the rule of law, social cohesion, humanitarian support, mediation and dialogue. In implementing these initiatives, development actors need to map out their areas of comparative advantages, while promoting complementarity and subsidiarity in their engagement. 

Similarly, in line with the 2012 Secretary-General’s Report on Peacebuilding, the Secretary-General asserts that a successful peacebuilding process requires a wider set of actors — including, but not limited to: representatives of women, young people, victims and marginalized communities; community and religious leaders; civil society actors; and refugees and internally displaced persons — to participate in public decision-making on all aspects of post-conflict governance and recovery.²⁸ 

Women, youths and victims groups need to be engaged and carried along in the conceptualisation, implementation and review of peacebuilding initiatives in the affected countries. 

Conclusion

ECOWAS is confronted with challenges in managing democratic transition in Mali, Guinea and Burkina Faso. While the regional body does not have a comprehensive regional framework on post-conflict reconstruction to guide its actions towards post-conflict stability, the affected Member States are threatened by an array of issues ranging from poor political governance to underdevelopment and terrorism, particularly in Mali and Burkina Faso. Against this backdrop, it is argued that ECOWAS leadership should act decisively and collectively to address the impending challenge facing these political transitions, in line with established principles of subsidiarity, comparative advantage and complementarity in the coordination of efforts, and collaborate with foreign actors and civil society groups. To this end, policy directions have been discussed around the broad agenda of defence, development and peacebuilding to enhance democratic transition in Mali, Guinea and Burkina Faso.

Mubin Adewumi Bakare

The post ECOWAS and the management of political transitions in Mali, Guinea and Burkina Faso: Adopting a three-dimensional approach for stability and sustainable democracy and development  appeared first on ACCORD.

The country found itself in such a predicament once again as it failed to address the root causes of conflict across northern Ethiopia. Among others, there are still two main concerns: firstly, the federal government enticed Amhara forces to join forces in seizing Western and Southern Tigray, which many Amhara refer to as Welkayit and Raya, in asserting historical claims to the territories. The troops then forcibly displaced ethnic Tigrayans from their lands, an act labelled as “ethnic cleansing” by the US Secretary of State Antony Blinken. Secondly, the overall security situation in Amhara deteriorated during and after the northern conflict with ENDF failing to defend the region from TPLF’s advance in 2021 and 2022. Furthermore, the government failed to protect an influx of ethnic Amhara fleeing intermittent violence in Oromia and Benshangul-Gumuz, compelling the militia to take matters into their own hands.

The recent initiative to integrate security forces from Ethiopia’s 11 regions was seen as an attempt to diminish the Amhara’s capacity to protect itself against aggression from other regions

Tweet

In light of this prevailing distrust, the recent initiative to integrate security forces from Ethiopia’s 11 regions was seen as an attempt to diminish the Amhara’s capacity to protect itself against aggression from other regions. The GoE has been accused of continued engagement with the TPLF and the Oromo Liberation Army (OLA) in a way that will counteract accountability for the atrocities committed against the Amhara. While the government denies such claims, it acknowledges that many of the special forces were integrated with the Fano insurgency, bolstering their fighting capabilities. In an escalation of a simmering feud between the two former allies, the Fano have briefly captured two towns – Gondar and Bahir Dar – and the industrial city of Debrebirhan. Several reports of airstrikes in the region led to numerous civilian deaths and mass killings in Finote Selam, Bahir Dar and Shewa Robit. Consequently, Ethiopia’s federal cabinet declared a six-month state of emergency and established a military command post in the Amhara region that reports directly to the Prime Minister following clashes across the Amhara region which has developed into a security crisis.

The Pretoria peace talks brought representatives of the federal government and those of the Tigray leadership to the negotiation table but failed to include concessions to a silent main party – the Amhara region – and that the solution to the problem will require resolving the issues of the contested areas, including the major concern of the Disarmament, Demobilisation and Reintegration (DDR) process. The exclusion of such issues in the negotiation process was met with deep suspicion among  the Amhara who criticised the talks for not being all-encompassing, adding yet another layer of complexity to years of ethnic tension. Political deadlocks on the status of Welkayit and Raya, albeit being part of Tigray in constitutional terms, contain many ethnic Amhara communities which the regional administration consider theirs as a fait accompli. The Fano militia is willing to back such claim with force by rejectingany attempts from the federal government to challenge the status quo. 

Persistent insecurity in the north – whether in Amhara or Tigray or both – risks undermining the peace agreement by bolstering hardliners, and increasing mistrust, which makes a return to war more likely

Tweet

The Pretoria Agreement calls for the return to pre-conflict arrangements while denoting a referendum as a prospective approach to settle the territorial dispute. The government supports that process, while opponents argue that as the local population was not consulted when the Ethiopian People’s Revolutionary Democratic Front (EPRDF) government, led by the TPLF designated these areas as part of the Tigray state in the 1990s, the current government should reverse the decision.

Nonetheless, it is a perilous stalemate, as the Abiy administration will need to balance trading off current instability in Amhara with risking a return to civil war in Tigray if the Pretoria Agreement is not implemented as agreed. Persistent insecurity in the north – whether in Amhara or Tigray or both – risks undermining the peace agreement by bolstering hardliners, and increasing mistrust, which makes a return to war more likely. Resolving these tensions will require a national dialogue where political and ethnic groups can discuss how best to resolve their differences in ways that can ensure the overall peace and stability of the country, which is in everyone’s interest.

Sara Tadesse Gebremariam is a research fellow in the Research Unit at ACCORD and a Peace, Security and Development Associate Fellow with the African Leadership Centre at King’s College London.

The post Ethiopia’s Amhara region in turmoil appeared first on ACCORD.

This study, based on Lederach’s conflict transformation (CT) theory, analyses the participation of the local church in CT of political crises in Zimbabwe at the grassroots level – from 2005 to 2020. It compares the CT interventions of one Pentecostal church denomination and of one African Independent Church denomination in the Dzivarasekwa suburb of Harare. A convergent parallel mixed methods design was used. SPSS software was used to analyse quantitative data while the NVivo application was used for qualitative data analysis. One key finding is that both denominations believe CT entails community engagement. Major challenges to local churches’ CT participation include financial constraints, repressive laws and church executives’ fear of victimisation. The study concludes that the impact of the local churches is low because their interventions are limited to congregation members and their immediate neighbours. Another conclusion is that CT is politicised in Zimbabwe, which restricts effective church participation. The study makes some recommendations to address this.

Introduction

Politically motivated human rights violations by the Zimbabwean state against its citizens have been escalating since 2000 ¹. One response has been the establishment in Zimbabwe of national conflict transformation institutions such as, in 2013, the National Peace and Reconciliation Commission (NPRC). The macro-level conflict transformation approaches of the church in Zimbabwe have been led by ecumenical Christian organisations such as the Zimbabwe Catholic Bishops’ Conference (ZCBC) and the Evangelical Fellowship of Zimbabwe (EFZ), primarily in the form of pastoral letters urging the government to resolve political crises peacefully (EFZ 2020; ZCBC 2022).  

While there is substantial scholarly discourse on the conflict transformation (CT) initiatives by Zimbabwe’s Christian actors at the macro-level in response to politically motivated violence, little has been done to document the CT accomplishments of Zimbabwe’s churches at the grassroots micro-level. In light of this knowledge gap, the study sought to establish, compare and contrast the impact of CT interventions of two church denominations located in Harare’s Dzivarasekwa suburb — Life Connect Ministry (LCM) and African Apostolic Faith Mission in Zimbabwe (AAFM) — on political crises at community level. The main research question addressed by the study was: what has been the contribution of the local church in Zimbabwe to the transformation of political conflict at the micro-level between 2005 and 2020?

The research questions of the study were:

1. What do the executives of the two Dzivarasekwa church denomination believe their role in CT of political crises to be?
2. What strategies have been used by each of the Dzivarasekwa church denominations to prevent political conflict and to promote peace in the Dzivarasekwa community?
3. What factors have influenced the participation of the two Dzivarasekwa church denominations in CT of political crises in Zimbabwe?
4. What is the level of participation of each of the Dzivarasekwa church denominations in CT of political crises in Zimbabwe?
5. What has been the impact of each Dzivarasekwa church denomination’s CT interventions on the Dzivarasekwa community?

Background of the Life Connect Ministry (LCM) and African Apostolic Faith Mission in Zimbabwe (AAFM)

LCM is a fairly new Pentecostal church that was founded in 2016 and which has church assemblies in three Harare suburbs, the largest of which is in the low income suburb of Dzivarasekwa. The vision of this church is to be effective in every community that it serves by engaging with community members in order to spread the gospel of Jesus Christ and to offer them healing for all ailments. Vondey (2017:216) postulates that Pentecostal missiology concerns itself with divine healing, which is not only the restoration of physical or mental health, but also rectification of political and socio-economic ailments. Some Pentecostal churches thus bestow divine healing upon those they serve through social activism and political advocacy (Frahm-Arp 2019:324). This outlook informs the LCM founding pastor’s active role in the Dzivarasekwa Peace Committee which he co-founded in 2017 with a local non-government organisation (NGO) he was involved with, in response to violent political clashes in Dzivarasekwa. At the time of the study the Dzivarasekwa LCM assembly had 35 active church members.

The AAFM church is an African Independent Church (AIC) with assemblies across Zimbabwe, including one in Dzivarasekwa which was established in 2012. It was founded by Reverend Isaac Chiumbu in 1945, who began his ministry as a preacher under the Apostolic Faith Mission (AFM), a Pentecostal church that was led by white missionaries and which spread to Rhodesia in 1915. After a disagreement, Chiumbu left AFM and founded AAFM (Hwata 2005:34). Though AICs have different beliefs and practices, a common thread uniting them is the desire to express their Christianity from an African traditional world view, which includes wearing uniforms, praying in indigenous languages and employing exuberant worship services (Chitando 2004:120). A feature of some AICs, shared by AAFM, is black economic empowerment through self-employment in trades, such as basket weaving and carpentry (Chitando 2004:121). At the time of the study, the Dzivarasekwa assembly of AAFM had 50 active church members. 

Dzivarasekwa, where the two church denominations in the study are situated, is a working class suburb in the Harare metropolitan province with a population of 91 412 (48% male and 52% female) (ZimStat 2022:89). It is likely that this population reflects the national statistic of 63% under the age of 24, some 55% of whom are unemployed (UNFPA 2021:2; ZimStat 2022:5). It also suffers from perennial water and sanitation problems because of the scarcity of piped municipal water and other municipal services (Tanyanyiwa 2011:324; ZimNews 2020). All these factors seem to have contributed to Dzivarasekwa becoming a hot spot in Zimbabwe, with politically motivated, violent clashes over the years between the youth and various state agents (Zimbabwe Human Rights NGO Forum [ZHRNF] 2018:4).

Conflict transformation theory and the role of the church

CT theory formed the theoretical framework of this study. It describes a relationship-centred process that entails constructively changing relationships, attitudes and behaviours in violence-prone conflict environments, in order to promote sustainable peace and long-term socio-economic and political change (Lederach 2014:16). Inequitable social systems induce both structural and direct violence because political elites exploit other citizens. Political conflict creates a barrier at the macro-, meso- and micro-levels (Fuerst-Bjelis & Leimgruber 2020:4).

Paffenholz (2013:10) and Lederach (2019:23) have established that elitist approaches to CT such as round-table negotiations by political and religious leaders are ineffectual because they exclude grassroots actors such as leaders of the local church. The inclusion of conflict-affected communities in CT aids agency as it allows them to participate in making resolutions that will affect their lives (Lederach 2019:23).

Major proponents of CT include Johan Galtung (1969), John Burton (1969), Adam Curle (1971), Kumar Rupesinghe (1992) and John Paul Lederach (1995). Lederach’s theory of conflict transformation considers CT through three lenses: one for the presenting situation, a second to delve deeper into the relationships of parties to the conflict, and a third to provide a conceptual framework that addresses how the relationships must change in order to produce sustainable peace (2014:12). Key assumptions of Lederach’s theory of CT include: it is relationship-based with a focus on transforming relationships at the personal, relational, structural and cultural levels, and conflict is natural in human interaction and affords learning opportunities that foster stronger relationships and peaceful outcomes (Lederach 2014:32). Lederach’s discourse of CT is buttressed by Sithole (2020:126) who argues that when the quality of social familiarity among community members is high, this creates a natural conflict prevention mechanism and empowers communities in CT. This is in terms of reinforcing social networks and encouraging community initiatives to resolve conflicts.

The framework of CT as discussed above became a relevant theoretical guide to assess LCM and AAFM in Dzivarasekwa, in relation to their experiences in CT.

Unpacking the relationship between the Church and the state

A number of models of church–state relations exist, the three main ones being state–church systems, separation systems, and hybrid systems. In state–church systems, there is close cooperation between the state and the church, while in separation systems there is no official state religion and the state allows freedom of religion. Hybrid or cooperationist systems separate state and church but the two parties may form treaties to cooperate on specific activities (Sandberg & Doe 2007:4). Thomas (1985:115) and Ranger (2008:9) confess to challenges in categorising church–state relations in pre-independent Zimbabwe because of its religious pluralism. Thomas (1985) thus confines his study to Protestant churches and divides their relations with the state into three historical eras. The first one covering 1890–1964 was pioneered by early White missionaries who are better known for facilitating the entry and settlement of White settlers into colonial Zimbabwe (Welch 2008:94). The government policy was to ensure consolidation of White settler expansionist and racist interests with those of the missionaries, which resulted in harsh government controls over missionaries (Thomas 1985:116). White missionaries were given some latitude in building and running schools and hospitals for Black people, but were not allowed to criticise the status quo. This period of church–state relations may be characterised as close cooperation.

The next era, covering 1964–1971, was marked by a schism between church and state due to militancy by the church against the White establishment. For the first time in the country’s history, in 1964 church leaders from different denominations publicly demonstrated against the state to protest against the deportation from Rhodesia of Bishop Dodge, the President of the Christian Council of Rhodesia (CCR), an ecumenical body of mostly Protestant churches (Thomas 1985:122). His crime was criticising Prime Minister Ian Smith’s proposed independence from Britain and his racist policies in relation to Blacks. When the state proceeded to ban African nationalist parties such as the Zimbabwe African People’s Union (ZAPU) and their leaders, as well as secular African newspapers, the church rose up as “the voice of the voiceless” (1985:122). White Catholic church leaders joined those from Protestant churches to object to the growing body of legislation whose purpose was to entrench White supremacy in colonial Zimbabwe. It was these fiery missionaries who mentored some of the earliest politically active Black clergy, including Bishop Abel Muzorewa, Reverend Canaan Banana and Reverend Ndabaningi Sithole (Thomas 1985:127).

Thomas’s final epoch, covering 1971–1980, was when African nationalism intensified. It was led by Muzorewa and Banana who had been elected as leaders of the secular African National Council (ANC). Although the ANC espoused a non-violent response to the escalating liberation war, some of its church members opted for a more radical approach. For example, from 1972, Reverend Ramakgapola of the Lutheran Church, inspired by the nationalist fervour of ANC leaders, began vigorously recruiting Black students and unemployed youths to join the Zimbabwe People’s Revolutionary Army (ZIPRA) (Bhebe 1999:158). However, the CCR focused on humanitarian activities catering to those who had been orphaned, widowed or displaced by the war (Thomas 1985:130). The Catholic Church upheld the church’s prophetic voice through the predominantly White Catholic Justice and Peace Commission, which would investigate and chronicle the settler army’s atrocities against Black civilians (Thomas 1985:131).

Although church–state relations had become either uncertain or openly hostile during the war years, Prime Minister Robert Mugabe’s heartfelt message of reconciliation allayed fears in the Church of any repercussions against them (Mugabe 1980:3). Indeed, Zimbabwe’s first president was the same Reverend Banana who had co-led the colonial-era ANC. Church–state relations, soon after Zimbabwe’s independence in 1980, were of the hybrid model. The then Prime Minister, Robert Mugabe, called on the church to cooperate with the state in re-developing the country whose infrastructure had been ravaged by the liberation war. The CCR had become the Zimbabwe Council of Churches (ZCC) from 1980 and its member churches eagerly partnered with government on various development programmes across the country (Chirongoma 2020:134; Ruzivo 2020:16).

The introduction of the Economic Structural Adjustment Programme (ESAP) in 1991 and its devastating economic impact on Zimbabwe’s citizens woke the ZCC from its quiescence. In partnership with church-linked and well-funded international non-government organisations (INGOs), ZCC embarked earnestly on democratic reform advocacy (Murwira & Manyeruke 2020:99). By the late 1990s, after a succession of violent political elections, the ZCC was steeped in political advocacy, placing it greatly at odds with the state. The latter took issue with ZCC’s foreign donors and accused it of being their puppet and agitating for regime change (Murwira & Manyeruke 2020:102). Every national election since 2000 has been marred by violence, which galvanised the hitherto passive Evangelical Fellowship of Zimbabwe (EFZ) to join the ZCBC and the ZCC in roundly condemning state violence against its detractors (Research Advocacy Unit 2018:2). This opposition began to dissipate in the face of the state’s divisive tactics against the church. For example, certain individual leaders of mainline Pentecostal and AIC churches were courted and feted by the state, while the rest were relegated to the periphery of Zimbabwe’s socio-economic and/or political issues as enemies of the state (Manyonganise 2017:122). Religion was thus “weaponised” by the state to counter dissenting voices and to clothe government in legitimacy in relation to its less savoury activities.

Such a fragmented approach by the state indicates that church–state relations in Zimbabwe continue to be diverse and complicated. This has resulted in severely circumscribed political and social spaces in Zimbabwe and significantly hinders the impact of the church in the CT of political crises.

Localism and conflict transformation

CT emerged when scholars such as Lederach were attempting to describe and emphasise certain facets of peacebuilding. This explains why Lederach (1997:20) defines peacebuilding as “a comprehensive concept that encompasses, generates, and sustains the full array of processes, approaches, and stages needed to transform conflict toward more sustainable, peaceful relationships”. In this paper, peacebuilding is synonymous with CT. Ojendal et al. (2017:30) postulate that localism or the ‘local turn’ of peacebuilding is a manifestation of the fourth generation of peacebuilding (after UN peacekeeping missions, interventions after the Cold War and state-building processes). They advocate more participatory, bottom-up and agency-oriented methods, inclusion of varied voices, and the establishment of formal and informal local governance bodies (Ojendal et al. 2017:31). Ojendal et al. (2017:36) caution against regarding localism as a universal cure for CT. Some of the pitfalls they cite include romanticising traditional approaches that may, instead, entrench existing elites, the risk of the local peace initiative being disconnected from the larger conflict, and the tendency of localism to be targeted at the national level while side-lining grassroots and subnational actors.

Although considerable research has been undertaken globally and in Africa on national-level religious actors in CT, not much is documented about the involvement in CT of the local grassroots church that is embedded in conflict-affected communities. Tearfund NGO (Gourlay et al. 2019:1), which has been partnering with the local church of any denomination to bring succour to the needy in conflict-affected states, maintains that local churches’ involvement in CT “has mostly been a hidden story”. Consequently, Tearfund commissioned a study in different countries in which it operates to establish local churches’ CT interventions (Gourlay et al. 2019:10). Some of their findings include advocating for the vulnerable, community-level mediation between warring parties, preaching and counselling to promote community healing, sheltering those displaced by conflict, and providing emergency relief to the communities (Gourlay et al. 2019:31). It was also found that most of the church leaders in these local churches were greatly motivated to engage in CT by a sense of calling based on the Great Commission found in the Bible in the Book of Matthew, Chapter 28:18–20. Despite impediments such as persecution of local church leaders and lack of funding for CT interventions, the local grassroots churches in this study have established themselves in their communities as oases of hope and as legitimate actors in crisis environments (Gourlay et al. 2019:64).

A similar study was documented by Oyola (2015:62) in respect of the CT activities of a local grassroots Catholic church in Choco, Colombia. Motivated by a form of liberation theology called “accompaniment”, these church leaders identified with and advocated for the poor and the marginalised by promoting social justice (2015:66). Together with strategic partners, they assisted with activities to reduce the humanitarian crises precipitated by the displacement of people in war-ravaged communities (2015:70). Initially, impediments to the local church’s CT initiatives were in the form of armed actors murdering church personnel, but it transitioned to struggling to help the impoverished indigenous communities who own the land to desist from signing their heritage away to transnational companies seeking Colombia’s natural resources (Oyola 2019:81).

Tarusarira and Ganiel (2014:62; 2020:73) have attributed the perceived failure of the church in Zimbabwe to effectively hold the government accountable for human rights violations to the rise of non-conformist Christian ecumenical groups. Unlike the church, these ecumenical groups, such as Churches in Manicaland (CiM), emphasise a grassroots approach to Zimbabwe’s political and other crises. As a result, their membership is open to anybody, clergy or laity and of different Christian doctrinal backgrounds, who espouses their aims of serving people at the grassroots level who have been affected by various crises in Zimbabwe (2020:75). The CT activities of CiM include dialogue with traditional leaders in conflict-affected rural areas and training community members on civic issues (2014:70). The impact of CiM’s interventions is difficult to measure since these are very low key (Tarusarira & Ganiel 2014:71).

Analysing the impact of the church  

A mixed methods research design was adopted for the study so that the weaknesses of each method (quantitative and qualitative) could be minimised (Ragab & Arisha, 2017:5). This means that two research philosophies, interpretivism and positivism, were employed into a hybrid now known as pragmatism. The interpretivist approach was useful in developing a deeper contextual understanding of the lived experiences of survivors of political conflict in Dzivarasekwa and their interpretation of the part that the two local churches have played in transforming their situations from conflict situations in the period concerned (Saunders et al. 2009:140). The positivist philosophy featured equally and employed a discernible social reality to generate quantitative measurement in respect of the participation of the two local Dzivarasekwa churches in the transformation of political conflict (Saunders et al. 2009:135).

Creswell’s (2014:280) convergent parallel mixed methods design was selected since it requires collecting both qualitative and quantitative data concurrently using the same constructs. The triangulation of results from the key informant and other interview participants, focus group discussion (FGD) participants, as well as those from the congregants and their leaders through questionnaires, increased the validity of the findings. Elaboration and clarification, also known as corroboration of results from one method with the results from the other, improved interpretability and meaningfulness (Green et al. 1989, cited in Ragab & Arisha 2017:5). Given the character of the convergent parallel mixed methods approach where quantitative and qualitative findings are mixed (QUAN + QUAL), it is generally believed that validity of the research results is enhanced (Morse 1991, cited in Creswell 2014:280). In this study, the qualitative data obtained from interviews with Dzivarasekwa church executive participants was used to clarify quantitative results from the congregation participants obtained from the questionnaires.

The population of the study was drawn from one Dzivarasekwa church assembly of each of the LCM and AAFM churches, as well as from the community where the two churches are located. The target population (N) was 100, consisting of 85 congregants (including one of the two key informants), the remaining key informant, ten focus group discussion members, and five survivors of political violence. LCM has a membership of 35 while AAFM has 50 members. One senior pastor for LCM represented the church executive in responding to the questionnaire.

Probability sampling was used for the quantitative strand of this mixed methodology study to ensure that every member of the target population received an equal chance of being selected (Creswell & Creswell, 2018:212). Stratified random sampling was used in the selection of respondents to the questionnaire from the heterogeneous population of congregants and church leaders. The sampling frame for the questionnaire respondents comprised church pastors, other church leaders and adult congregants of either gender, in order to ensure a fair representation (Creswell & Creswell, 2018:212). The same rationale was applied to stratified random sampling of FGD participants. The sampling frame for the FGD comprised Dzivarasekwa residents who: reside within 3 km of the churches (walking distance), are adults of either gender, and may or may not be affiliated with any church or any political party. Purposive sampling of the survivors of political violence was based on the researcher approaching survivors from a list of families known in the community to have suffered some type of loss after incidences of political upheaval.

Researcher bias was minimised because none of the participants was known to the researcher and those who responded to the invitation to participate in the study did so of their own free will and without any inducements.

Table 1.1: Sampling frame for the study

The questionnaire was administered to 75 members of the congregation and the church executives and leaders of both LCM and AAFM church assemblies. The LCM church executive administered 32 copies of the questionnaire and 43 were administered for AAFM. This data collection tool was inexpensive and offered quick results from quantitative data. These data sets were analysed using the SPSS application.

One interview guide with 12 open-ended questions was used to collect qualitative data from the church executives of both the LCM and AAFM Dzivarasekwa church assemblies, as key informants. Each interview participant had an informed perspective on their denomination’s theology and other aspects relevant to the study, which promoted the validity of the research findings (Creswell & Creswell 2018:215). The executives of the AAFM and LCM were interviewed at their respective Dzivarasekwa homes and the interviews lasted 90 and 120 minutes, respectively.

A separate interview guide with 10 open-ended questions was used for the three survivors of political conflict participants to confirm or refute key findings from both the congregants and the church assembly leadership participants. Two of the survivors were interviewed separately at their homes in Dzivarasekwa and the third was interviewed at his Harare office. Each of these interviews lasted about 45 minutes. Two other survivors of politically motivated violence who had originally agreed to avail themselves for interviews declined to attend because of business commitments at the time. The qualitative data sets were analysed using the NVivo application.

Since both LCM and AAFM are situated on the same street in Dzivarasekwa, they serve the same community. Therefore, only one FGD was necessary to document the perceptions and experiences of community members regarding the CT activities of each church denomination. These qualitative data findings were triangulated with those from key informants, the survivors of politically motivated violence, as well as the churches’ congregants, leadership and executive. The FGD was held at the LCM church in Dzivarasekwa and lasted 76 minutes.

Of the 10 participants who had been recruited for the FGD, eight of these came: two men and six women. Eight is an acceptable group size which ensured that detailed lived experiences were shared (Creswell & Creswell, 2018:263). Five open-ended questions were asked, with opinions being elicited from each participant. To ensure accuracy and completeness of the conversations, there was a moderator to guide the discussion and a research assistant to record responses and general observations. The recorder also assigned a code to each participant to maintain anonymity, but made sure to document gender and a general description by which each one could be easily recalled.

Demographic information on research participants

Of the 73 research participants, 62% were female (45) and 38% were male (28). In terms of age groups, 29% were 26–35, 25% were 18–25, 20% were 36–45, 14% were 46–60 and 12% were aged 60 and above. No questionnaire respondent held an office in any political party or organisation and 92% of questionnaire respondents had no political affiliation. Of the 8% of respondents who were politically affiliated to parties (which they declined to disclose), three were members of AAFM and one a member of LCM. Two of the three survivors of political violence were actively involved in opposition politics, while the remainder held no political affiliation. The pastors for both LCM and AAFM professed no political affiliation.

What do the two Dzivarasekwa church denomination executives believe their role in conflict transformation of political crises to be?

Both executives, Pst1_LCM and Pst2_AAFM, believe that their churches must be involved in the transformation of political crises by engaging the community for peacebuilding. For example, each pastor sheltered persons in his own home for protracted periods. These individuals had been displaced by political violence in 2005 and 2008 after state operations ‘Murambatsvina’ and ‘Mavhotera Papi?’, respectively. This transformed the relationships the pastors had with these congregants, to whom they grew closer and much like members of their families (Lederach 2014:24). It seems Pst1_LCM was more seized with matters of community than Pst2_AAFM, since the former made 24 references to it, and the latter six. This is validated by Pst1_LCM’s active membership in both an ecumenical body in Dzivarasekwa and in a local peace committee. Such involvement is consistent with the fourth generation of CT in Ojendal et al. (2017:31). Although Pst2_AAFM was aware of both of these bodies, he was not a member of either one. When queried on it, he responded, “The Catholic Church is active in politics, so there’s no need for AAFM to duplicate.”

Both executives believe CT entails helping the community and questionnaire responses from congregant participants elaborate on the manner in which such help is rendered by each denomination. All participants associate community with loving one another, promoting peace, training for empowerment and encouragement during political stress. Such demonstrations of love constitute a relational process that builds mutual trust between the local churches and the surrounding community (Lederach 2014:16). Pst1_LCM lamented that, “The politics of hate that began with the liberation war is still at work in this nation,” and must therefore be countered with “the politics of love”. However, there was a divergence of findings because none of the survivors of political violence who participated in the study was ever engaged by either one of these pastors after their tribulations, despite living within walking distance of one another. Rather, each survivor approached the pastors of his/her own denomination for assistance, who then rebuffed them because of the “political” nature of their complaints. Apparently, it did not occur to these survivors to approach pastors outside of their own denominations, such as Pst1_LCM or Pst2_AAFM. Most of the FGD participants (70%) acknowledged that Pst1_LCM was involved in CT in the Dzivarasekwa community. There was convergence of results between the quantitative findings from the congregant participants and the qualitative findings from the church executive participants (Table 1.2). However, there was divergence between church executives’ results and those of the survivor participants, which may be attributed to the executives’ limited focus on their denominations rather than on community members, regardless of their denominational or religious orientation. Thus, the poor quality of the relationship between these parties exacerbated the survivors’ conflict environment (Sithole 2020:126).

Table 1.2: Corroboration of church executives’ conception of church role in CT

What strategies were used by each of the Dzivarasekwa church denominations to prevent political conflict and to promote peace in the Dzivarasekwa community?

Church congregation participant responses derived from the questionnaires revealed that while AAFM concentrated their CT initiatives on peace prayer rallies and counselling victims of political violence, LCM was active in counselling victims of political violence, peace prayer rallies, mediation between parties in political conflict, peace training, infrastructure development and providing humanitarian aid to those affected by political violence. These interventions bring structural transformation to Dzivarasekwa by fostering non-violent mechanisms to deal with violence, as well as by developing structures to meet basic human needs (Lederach 2014:26). Transformation may also be found at the personal level, as these interventions maximise community members’ potential for growth after suffering conflict (Lederach 2014: 25). LCM’s CT strategies are congruent with the radical social justice activities that characterised certain pastors before Zimbabwe’s independence (Bhebe 1999:158). Pst2_AAFM’s strategies for CT typify the diffident approach of most of Zimbabwe’s post-independence churches (Ruzivo, 2020:27) on matters concerning the state’s human rights abuses.

However, two thirds of both the survivor and of the FGD participants have never witnessed, participated in or benefitted from any of the CT strategies listed above through either church denomination. A 31-year-old male survivor of political violence who is also an opposition party supporter bitterly exclaimed, “Church pastors are selfish and unwilling to help others . . . only my [political] party helped me.” Pst1_LCM indicated that it was difficult to conduct CT activities in Dzivarasekwa because some community members, including peer pastors, regularly report him for political activism to political elites, such that he and his family are occasionally threatened with violence by ruling party youth militias. In fact, the findings revealed that the militias burned some LCM church property in 2018 in retribution for perceived LCM support for the political opposition. He said, “When youth militias are deployed in the community to commit violent acts, they are wielding state power using weapons and authority delegated to them by the state.” Pst2_AAFM declined to recruit community members who do not belong to his church for this research study, fearing that others may misinterpret his actions as “political” and that he could be labelled an enemy of the state. Given public reports about the arrests of politically active clergy and the politically motivated tribulations of Pst1_LCM, his fears are understandable.

The qualitative data analysis showed strong convergence with the quantitative findings in respect of peace prayer rallies. Additional CT strategies that emerged were cleaning campaigns, stakeholder engagement and skills training. In keeping with AIC doctrine, Pst2_AAFM’s cleaning campaigns and training of others in entrepreneurial skills such as making vehicle lubricants for sale, are rooted in a desire to empower, which promotes peace.

What factors have influenced the participation of the two Dzivarasekwa church denominations in conflict transformation of political crises in Zimbabwe?

Factors that influence each denomination’s capability in and appetite for participating in CT of political crises were aggregated, resulting in ranking by congregation questionnaire participants as: financial constraints, harsh laws like the Public Order and Security Act (POSA), fear of victimisation, church doctrine, and pastors’ incapacity to engage in politics. Buchanan (2020:6) maintains that Western donors, the traditional funders for CT initiatives, are no longer forthcoming because of the politicisation and demonisation of foreign aid to recipient organisations by destination governments. Quantitative analysis shows that there is no statistically significant difference in either denomination’s participants’ aggregated ranking of financial constraints as the biggest factor that reduces their church’s participation in CT, which is consistent with the findings for grassroots churches in conflict-affected states by Gourlay et al. (2019:64).

Although repressive laws have an aggregated ranking as the second biggest hindrance to the CT participation of both denominations, there is a statistically significant difference in the way this factor is perceived by each denomination. Sixty-seven per cent (67%) of participants for the Pentecostal church LCM ranked harsh laws second, as opposed to 23% from the AIC AAFM. It is likely that LCM perceptions of oppressive legislation such as POSA are derived from the lived experiences of Pst1_LCM over the years. For example, in 2019, Pst1_LCM and his family were forced to abandon their home on many evenings and to seek refuge elsewhere because of fear of rampaging militias who would attempt to invade their house. Save for church doctrine, the four other factors which were found to influence church involvement in CT have political connotations in Zimbabwe. Lederach’s CT theory (2014:26) helps us to understand that the state is exhibiting cultural patterns that promote violent expressions of conflict which, in turn, increases fear and discouragement in the relationship between the state and the local church.

Divergence of qualitative and quantitative findings occurred because all of the survivor of political conflict participants cited pastors’ fear of victimisation, ranked overall third by congregation participants, as the major factor hampering local church participation in CT. Pst1_AAFM’s utterance that “Church service is sensitive – one must be careful what and how one preaches, lest one be labelled a political activist,” seems to buttress this observation. One 49-year-old female survivor of political violence who is also a member of LCM explained that, “Anybody can inform the police or soldiers that the church is meeting to conspire against the ruling party, which would lead to arrests, violence and threats of shutting down our church.” Indeed, as Tarusarira (2020:73) has stated, it is church leaders’ unresponsiveness to Zimbabwe’s political crises at the grassroots level that has spawned non-conformist Christian organisations that are advocating social justice at the micro-level.

What is the level of participation of each of the Dzivarasekwa church denominations in conflict transformation of political crises in Zimbabwe?

There is a significant difference in the levels of participation in CT between the two church denominations: LCM has participated considerably more than AAFM. This finding is based on participants’ having witnessed, participated in or benefitted from a selection of CT activities conducted by these denominations during the past 15 years. Pst1_LCM is always at the forefront of his denomination’s CT activities and even helped to establish a multi-stakeholder Dzivarasekwa peace committee in 2017. He fervently believes that, “The [local] church must always promote peace” in the community, which will help change attitudes of political intolerance and violent behaviours in this politically charged community. Although the results from survivor participants diverged from the above findings, 25% of FGD participants said that they had personally benefitted from peace training or humanitarian support from LCM. One 27-year-old female FGD participant said, “I am one of these LCM peace trainees and am now engaging in conflict transformation at a family level: learning the ropes and building capacity so that I begin to engage [in CT] at the community level.”

While the findings of this study indicate that funding has affected these two denominations’ CT participation levels, the prayer peace rallies, counselling and mediation that Pst1_LCM have been conducting seem to belie this point. Nganje (2021:125) points out that grassroots CT in Africa has been acknowledged since the 1990s as “self-help” peace-building mechanisms by members of communities in conflict. This implies that CT often proceeds on a small budget and garners some successes in managing diverse conflicts.

The lower CT participation of AAFM is consistent with Ruzivo’s (2020:27) observations about Zimbabwean churches post-independence, but that for LCM is irregular, especially for a Pentecostal church in Africa, which are often castigated for ostentation and commoditisation ². This anomaly may be attributed to Pst1_LCM’s personal ideology: “The Church in Zimbabwe must lead in the politics of loving one another,” in order to foster reconciliation and healing in the nation. The fact of Pst1_LCM’s persisting in his CT activities despite threats to himself and in relation to the destruction of church property, speaks to his intrepid nature.

Unlike Pst1_LCM, Pst2_AAFM is inhibited by AIC doctrine that exhorts him to, “submit to the governors placed over [us]” (quoting the Bible – the Book of Romans 13, King James Version) by never (re)acting to government in a manner that may be deemed defiant. He adds: “The Church [pastor] must love everyone and not be aligned to any political party.”

What has been the impact on the Dzivarasekwa community of each Dzivarasekwa church denomination’s conflict transformation interventions?

The overall impact of the aforementioned CT interventions in Dzivarasekwa has been the promotion of a more peaceful environment. This is because the two churches’ interventions have encouraged the community to respond to violence in ways that maximise positive change (Lederach 2014:16). However, there is a statistically significant difference in the impact made by each church denomination, with LCM impact being greater than that of AAFM. This is owing to the higher number and frequency of CT interventions conducted by LCM during the period studied.

The word ‘peace’ had the third highest frequency in this study, indicating the preoccupation participants had with this concept. The two denominations’ initiatives may not yet have yielded socio-economic or political change, but there is an appreciation among the study participants that this process has begun. The local church is therefore helping the community to identify mechanisms within its cultural setting that will help them to address constructively political conflict in order to attain sustainable peaceful outcomes (Lederach 2014:26).

Behaviour and attitude changes when faced with potential or actual political conflict have been encouraged by both church executives leading peace prayers in the community, Pst1_LCM’s mediation between conflicting political party actors, and through counselling by both pastors of the survivors of political conflict and of the perpetrators themselves. Educational and entrepreneurship empowerment programmes by both denominations have focused mainly on the youth, but also on women in the case of AAFM. One 33-year-old male FGD participant said, “In Dzivarasekwa many people are idle and living in poverty so they are susceptible to manipulation by political parties.” The church denominations’ CT activities, including the pastors’ demonstration of community being one family, have made Dzivarasekwa’s youth less predisposed to violence. The local churches are therefore transforming the youth at the relational level by urging them to acknowledge inter-group relationships (Lederach 2014:26).

Another impact of these CT activities on Dzivarasekwa is the community’s growing realisation of their own agency in CT of political crises in their midst (Lederach 2019:23; Nganje 2021:135). All the FGD participants agreed with one disabled 41-year-old female participant who said that, “We residents should take care of each other and resolve disputes amicably . . . because the politicians and the police never help us.”

It seems that although LCM has been carrying out more CT activities than AAFM, their impact has been limited to members of the LCM church and to community members with whom Pst1_LCM has personally interacted. This dilutes LCM’s overall impact on the Dzivarasekwa community. Pst1_LCM complained, “I don’t have enough of a platform” from which to conduct CT initiatives, given both a limited budget and the criminalisation of CT activities deemed critical of the government (ZHRNF 2018).

Quantitative findings from the Dzivarasekwa church congregants, church executives and their leadership teams, as well as qualitative findings from the two church executives, Dzivarasekwa community members and from survivors of political violence in the community, were checked for corroboration. There was corroboration between the quantitative and the qualitative findings in respect of the church executives’ conception of the role of their churches in CT, showing it as a relationship-based process to construct new behaviours and attitudes in conflict-ridden areas (Lederach 2014:16).

Although the results from the quantitative analysis revealed many CT strategies employed by the two church denominations, those from the qualitative analysis controverted this finding since 67% of the study participants have never benefitted from them. The churches’ intentional or unintentional CT practice within a limited radius, in itself compromises community members’ quality of social familiarity with one another, which is an important factor in CT in a community (Sithole 2020:126).

While the quantitative analysis revealed the local church’s constraints in CT over the past 15 years, the qualitative analysis revealed the prevalence of government interference in this matter. Evidently, church–state relations continue to demonstrate government’s intolerance of the local church as anything but a development partner (Chirongoma 2020:134).

The quantitative analysis also helped to distinguish the two church denominations’ level of participation in CT and to differentiate the CT interventions each one has undertaken. Qualitative data obtained from the key informant interviews clarified contributory factors behind these differences. For instance, Pst2_AAFM does not believe in church-based advocacy, meaning the local churches in Dzivarasekwa are divided and weakened in respect of CT (Tarusarira 2020:69).

Statistical analysis of the quantitative data corroborated that of the qualitative data in respect of the impact of LCM and AAFM’s CT strategies resulting in a more peaceful environment in Dzivarasekwa. This study demonstrated that the local church in Zimbabwe is a serious socio-political actor with the moral authority to stand as an interlocutor on behalf of the voiceless community (Gourlay et al. 2019:64). However, the local church needs to do more to promote sustainable peace and long-term socio-economic and political change (Lederach 2014:16).

Conclusion and recommendations

The contribution of Zimbabwe’s local churches to CT of political crises over the past 15 years has had a limited scope and impact, given government antagonism towards it. CT manifested through counselling survivors of politically motivated violence, peace training, praying for and preaching about peace, mediation between and counselling of conflict political actors, and economic empowerment programmes.

Many challenges have impeded the participation of the local church in CT at the micro-level, the foremost of which are financial constraints and repressive legislation. In addition, local churches are divided about advocacy, which weakens the CT thrust. Consequently, grassroots churches in Zimbabwe were unable to make much of an impact in political CT in their communities over the past 15 years.

CT in Zimbabwe is highly politicised, with the government seeking to monopolise its every facet. State power has been violently brought to bear to ensure that the grassroots church is not allowed to engage the community in CT. As a result, fear of reprisals for engaging in CT is pervasive among local church executives, congregants and the community. This hampers the realisation of sustainable peace.

The Zimbabwe government must make CT inclusive so that community churches and community members can participate in activities and decision-making that affect them. Government funding must be availed to train and otherwise equip local churches as partners in peacebuilding leading to sustainable peace in Zimbabwe. A strong theological foundation would support grassroots churches so that they can unite and speak up for the marginalised, in order to right social ills.

* Angela Shoko is a governance specialist and part-time teaching assistant at the Africa Leadership and Management Academy (ALMA), an affiliate college of the National University of Science and Technology in Zimbabwe. Her research interests include peacebuilding and development, conflict transformation, public sector governance and the church.

References

Adebayo, Rufus 2019. Commoditisation, materialism and Pentecostal Christian churches. Alternation Special Edition, 29, pp. 125–148. doi:https://doi.org/10.29086/2519-5476/2019/sp29a6

Amnesty International 2007. Zimbabwe: Human rights in crisis: Shadow report to the African Commission on human and people’s rights. Available from: https://www.amnesty.org/en/documents/afr46/016/2007/en/ [Accessed 10 August 2022].

Bhebe, Ngwabi 1999. The ZAPU and ZANLA guerrilla warfare and the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Zimbabwe. Gweru, Mambo Press.

Buchanan, Cate 2020. The dynamics and challenges of funding peace. ACCORD, 29 (19), pp. 1–14. Available from: https://www.c-r.org/accord/pioneering-peace-pathways/dynamics-and-challenges-funding-peace-perspectives-peacemaking [Accessed: 28 August 2022]

Chirongoma, Sophia 2020. Church-related hospitals in Zimbabwe. In: Chitando, Ezra. (ed.), The Zimbabwe Council of Churches and development in Zimbabwe. Switzerland, Palgrave Macmillan. pp. 145–148.

Chitando, Ezra 2004. African Instituted Churches in southern Africa: Paragons of regional integration? African Journal of International Affairs, 7 (1&2), pp. 117–132. Available from: https://www.ajol.info/index.php/ajia/article/view/57226/45613 [Accessed 22 August 2022].

Chitando, Ezra 2014. Prayers, politics and peace: The church’s role in Zimbabwe’s crisis. Available from: http://archive.kubatana.net/docs/relig/osisa_prayers_politics_peace_110630.pdf [Accessed 24 August 2022].

Creswell, John 2014. Research design: Qualitative, quantitative and mixed methods approaches, 4th ed. London, Sage Publications.

Creswell, John and J. David Creswell 2018. Research design: Qualitative, quantitative and mixed methods approaches, 5th ed. Thousand Oaks, Sage Publications.

Evangelical Fellowship of Zimbabwe 2020. Pastoral letter 1. Available from: https://m.facebook.com/efzim/photos/a.282896521857779/1690220404458710/?type=3&source=48&__tn__=EH-R [Accessed 22 August 2022].

Frahm-Arp, Maria 2019. Political activism in Pentecostal charismatic evangelical churches and the 2019 elections in South Africa. Journal of Religion in Africa, 49, pp. 312–336. Available from: https://brill.com/view/journals/jra/49/3-4/article-p312_4.xml [Accessed 22 August 2022].

Fuerst-Bjeliš, Borna and Walter Leimgruber 2020. Marginalisation: The dark side of globalisation. In: Fuerst-Bjeliš, Borna and Walter Leimgruber (eds), Globalisation, marginalisation and conflict: Political, economic and social processes. Cham, Springer Nature. pp. 3–14.

Gourlay, Marjorie, Muthuraj Swamy and Madleina Daehnhardt 2019. How the church contributes to well-being: Voices from the local church. Available from: https://learn.tearfund.org/-/media/learn/resources/policy/2019-tearfund-tearnetherlands-cccw-voices-from-the-local-church-en-summary.pdf [Accessed 19 August 2022].

Human Rights Watch 2012. World report 2012: Zimbabwe. Available from: https://www.hrw.org/world-report/2012/country-chapters/zimbabwe [Accessed 16 August 2022].

Hwata, Benny 2005. An investigation of different phases of Pentecostal experience in the Apostolic Faith Mission. Master of Theology thesis. Johannesburg, University of South Africa.

Lederach, John Paul 1997. Building peace: Sustainable reconciliation in divided societies. Washington, United States Institute of Peace.

Lederach, John Paul 2014. The little book of conflict transformation. New York, Skyhorse Publishing.

Lederach, John Paul 2019. Forging inclusive peace: We stink more than we think. In: Carl, Andy (ed.), Inclusion in peace processes. London, Conciliation Resources. pp. 23–26.

Manyonganise, Molly 2017. Invisibilising the victimised: Churches in Manicaland and women’s experiences of political violence. Journal for the Study of Religion, 30 (1), pp. 110–136.

Mugabe, Robert 1980. Address to the nation by Prime Minister Elect. Available from: https://news.pindula.co.zw/2020/04/18/mugabes-1980-independence-speech-that-captured-the-nations-hope-dreams/ [Accessed 23 August 2022].

Murwira, Ashton and Charity Manyeruke 2020. Church–politics nexus. In: Chitando, Ezra. (ed.), The Zimbabwe Council of Churches and development in Zimbabwe. Switzerland, Palgrave Macmillan. pp. 95–108.

Nganje, Fritz 2021. Local peace committees and grassroots peacebuilding in Africa. In: McNamee, Terence & Monde Muyangwa (eds.), The state of peacebuilding in Africa, pp. 123–139. Available from: https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-46636-7_8

Ojendal, Joakim, Hanna Leonardsson and Martin Lundqvist 2017. Local peacebuilding: Challenges and opportunities. Stockholm, Elanders Sverige.

Oyola, Sandra Milena Rios 2015. Religion, social memory and conflict: The massacre of Bojoya in Colombia. London, Palgrave Macmillan.

Paffenholz, Thania 2013. International peacebuilding goes local: Analysing Lederach’s conflict transformation theory and its ambivalent encounter with 20 years of practice. Peacebuilding, (2)1, pp. 11 – 27.doi:10.1080/21647259.2013.783257

Ragab, Mohamed and Amr Arisha 2017. Research methodology in business: A starter’s guide. Management and Organizational Studies, 5 (1), pp. 1–14. Available from: https://doi.org/10.5430/mos.v5n1p1

Ranger, Terrence 2008. Introduction: Evangelical Christianity and democracy in Africa. In: Ranger, Terrence (ed.), Evangelical Christianity and democracy in Africa. Oxford, Oxford University Press, pp. 3 – 36.

Research Advocacy Unit 2018. Zimbabwe – political violence and elections. Available from: http://kubatana.net/wp-content/uploads/2018/04/rau_zimbabwe_political_violence_elections_180404.pdf [Accessed 19 August 2022].

Ruzivo, Munetsi 2020. The Zimbabwe Council of Churches, politics and development from 1980– 2015. In: Chitando, Ezra (ed.), The Zimbabwe Council of Churches and development in Zimbabwe. Cham, Palgrave Macmillan. pp. 13–36.

Sandberg, Russell and Christopher Norman Doe 2007. Church–State relations in Europe. Religion Compass, 1 (5), pp. 561–578. Available from: https://orca.cardiff.ac.uk/id/eprint/25802/1/Sandberg%20and%20Doe%20Church-State%20Relations%20in%20Europe%20(Post-Print)%20(1).pdf [Accessed 14 August 2022].

Saunders, Mark, Philip Lewis and Adrian Thornhill 2009. Research methods for business students, 5th ed. London, Pearson Education.

Sithole, Pindai 2020. Nhimbe practice in Zimbabwe revisited. African Journals Online, 20 (2), pp. 115–134. Available from: https://www.ajol.info/index.php/ajcr/article/view/211170 [Accessed 18 August 2022].

Tanyanyiwa, Vincent 2011. Residents’ perception on water and sanitation problems in Dzivarasekwa 1 high density suburb, Harare. Available from: https://www.researchgate.net/publication/331876271_Residents’_Perception_on_Water_and_Sanitation_Problems_in_Dzivarasekwa_1_High_Density_Suburb_Harare/link/5c9133b5299bf11169395447/download [Accessed 21 August 2022].

Tarusarira, Joram 2020. The Zimbabwe Council of Churches and ‘crisis’ ecumenical groups. In: Chitando, Ezra (ed.), The Zimbabwe Council of Churches and development in Zimbabwe. Cham, Palgrave Macmillan. pp. 65–78.

Tarusarira, Joram and Gladys Ganiel 2014. Reconciliation and reconstruction among churches and faith-based organisations in Zimbabwe. In: Leiner, Martin, Maria Palme and Peggy Stöckner (eds.), Societies in Transition: Sub-Saharan Africa between conflict and reconciliation. pp. 55–78.

Thomas, Norman 1985. Church and state in Zimbabwe. A Journal of Church and State, 27 (1), pp. 113–133. Available from: https://booksc.org/s/thomas%20church%20and%20state%20in%20zimbabwe [Accessed 20 August 2022].

UNFPA 2021. Country programme document for Zimbabwe. Available from: https://www.unfpa.org/sites/default/files/portal-document/ENG_DP.FPA_.CPD_.ZWE_.8%20-%20Zimbabwe%20CPD%20-%20FINAL%20-%202Jul21.pdf [Accessed 21 August 2022].

Vondey, Wolfgang 2017. Pentecostal theology. London, Bloomsbury Publishing.

Welch, Pamela 2008. Church and settler in colonial Zimbabwe. Boston, Brill.

Zimbabwe Catholic Bishops’ Conference 2022. Pastoral letters. Available from: http://www.zcbc.co.zw/zcbc-publications.html [Accessed 22 August 2022].

Zimbabwe Human Rights NGO Forum 2018. Post-election violence monitoring report. Available from: http://kubatana.net/2018/08/10/2018-post-election-violence-monitoring-report/ [Accessed 20 August 2022].

ZimNews 27 April 2020. Dzivarasekwa residents in water crisis. Available from: https://www.facebook.com/111044177247556/photos/dzivarasekwa-residents-in-water-crisisfear-covid-19by-hupenyudzivarasekwa-reside/117222323296408/ [Accessed 20 August 2022].

ZimStat 2022. 2022 First quarter labour force survey results. Available from: https://www.zimstat.co.zw/wp-content/uploads/2022/07/2022_First_Quarter_QLFS_Report.pdf [Accessed 21 August 2022].

ZimStat 2022. 2022 Population and housing census. Available from: https://www.zimstat.co.zw/wp-content/uploads/2022/07/Census2022_Preliminary_Report.pdf [Accessed 22 August 2022].

The post Impact of the Church on Conflict Transformation of Political Crises at Community Level: A Case Study of two Church Denominations in Dzivarasekwa, Harare appeared first on ACCORD.

Secessionism, as the creation of a state using violence without the consent of the former sovereign state, has occurred for centuries. Secessionist movements arose in the aftermath of the First and Second World Wars and during and after the Cold War. The cases of Ethiopia and Eritrea, and Sudan and South Sudan are examples of such movements occurring when a territory splits from an existing state, even though the seceding entity has no legal basis upon which to do so. This is because the legal grounds for statehood stem from the United Nations (UN) Charter, which entitles a colonised people, or people subject to foreign domination, to form a separate state. Nevertheless, secessionist movements have become a norm in some post-independence African states, leading to violent conflict and civil war.

Many scholars have argued that the inherited colonial borders in Africa are one of the root causes for secessionist movements, as these borders have remained porous due to a lack of proper demarcation and delimitation. However, the case of conflict recurrence in South Sudan proves that this argument is unsubstantiated. This is because the crisis is political and thus requires that political measures be explored for its resolution. This Policy and Practice Brief (PPB) examines the factors influencing secessionist movements in Cameroon (Southern Cameroons Aka Ambazonia) and their implications for subregional and regional security in Africa. The paper concludes with recommendations based on this analysis.

Introduction

The ‘Anglophone problem’ in Southern Cameroons and what is referred to as its ‘attempted secession’ by the government of Cameroon has provoked renewed debate about the relevance of the idea of ‘self-determination’ in the 21st century. Moreover, the Anglophone problem poses a challenge not only to the efforts of the postcolonial state to forge national unity and integration ¹ but to national and regional human security as well.

The conflict in Cameroon’s Anglophone Northwest and Southwest regions – the former British colony and mandate territory of Southern Cameroons – began on 11 October 2016 with peaceful protests by Anglophone lawyers and teachers. This was triggered by the central government’s placement of French-speaking judges and teachers in English-language courts and schools, including a systematic erosion of Anglophone common law procedures.

The disproportionate use of force fanned the flames of violence and led to a humanitarian disaster. ²When, from 1 October 2017 onwards, militant secessionist groups symbolically proclaimed the restoration of the former Southern Cameroons as the state of Ambazonia, the government responded forcefully. Security forces arrested hundreds of demonstrators, including children, killed at least four people, and wounded many more. ³

The ongoing fighting between separatists and security forces has displaced more than 700 000 civilians and driven 63 800 more into neighbouring Nigeria. It has also claimed the lives of about 4 000 civilians,⁴ besides those of members of the state security forces as well as separatists. To date, Cameroon’s international partners and the international community, in general, have been silent on these events.⁵ This is partly because the Anglophone crisis has been underreported, leading to low levels of international awareness and recognition. ⁶

This PPB addresses the ‘war of independence’ in the former Southern Cameroons in this context. First, it considers its causes and whether they can be addressed. Next, it reviews the responses of the Cameroonian government and the international community. Lastly, it draws out the implications of the conflict for human and national security and, by extension, regional security.

Reasons for the Attempted Restoration of Southern Cameroons

The attempted secession of the Northwest and Southwest regions and restoration of Southern Cameroons in the form of the independent state of Ambazonia have multiple causes. They stem from a poorly organised UN process for granting independence and the subsequent reunification of the British-controlled Southern Cameroons with French Cameroon, political grievances, and ongoing economic and sociocultural inequalities.

To understand the current situation, one needs to examine events prior to independence. They can only be understood in terms of the strategies adopted by the British and French acting as the UN-mandated colonial masters of the two Cameroons.

Cameroon has a large and heterogeneous population of about 24 million people belonging to more than 250 ethnic groups with their own languages and customs ⁷spread over ten regions. The Northwest and Southwest regions – more or less comprising the former British colony of Southern Cameroons – are home to an estimated five million people occupying about 16 000 square kilometres out of almost 475 000 square kilometres making up the larger Cameroon state and is home to about 5 million people .⁸

From 1884 to 1916, Cameroon was a German colony called ‘Kamerun’. After Germany’s defeat in the First World War, it was unequally divided between the French and British, with the former occupying four-fifths of the territory, and the latter one-fifth. The British divided their portion into British Northern and Southern Cameroons, and the France renamed its colony French Cameroon. ⁹

In June 1919, the Treaty of Versailles established the mandate system for placing conquered colonies under international administration. Under this system, British and French Cameroon were administered by the two colonial powers from 1922 until 1945, when the mandates were replaced by trusteeship agreements under the auspices of the newly formed UN. For the sake of convenience, the British administered its territory (both Southern and Northern Cameroons) as part of the British colony of Nigeria. As elsewhere, the British and French adopted divergent approaches to administering the territories under their control – the former utilised their system of indirect rule, and the latter their policy of assimilation. In line with this, Southern Cameroons adopted an Anglo-Saxon governance culture, and French Cameroon, a centralised republican system. These divergent approaches had far-reaching consequences in respect of language, culture, systems of governance, judicial systems, and approaches to basic freedoms.¹⁰

Indeed, scholars agree that the systematic partition and subsequent administration of the two Cameroons by the French and British laid the foundation for the historical and spatial construction of Anglophone and Francophone identities in the territory.¹¹ By extension, these systems and identities prevailed even after independence.

French Cameroon became independent on 1 January 1960, being the second French colony in sub-Saharan Africa to do so. While Nigeria became independent on 1 October in the same year, Southern Cameroons remained in limbo, as it did not want to join either Nigeria or French Cameroon. The indecision of the Southern Cameroons elite prompted the UN to organise a referendum on 11 February 1961, offering voters the choice between joining the former French Cameroon or Nigeria. However, they were not presented with a third choice, namely, to become an independent state. Under these circumstances, Southern Cameroonians voted in favour of what they considered the lesser of the two evils: reunification with French Cameroon, despite the substantial differences in cultural heritage that had developed by this time. As Susungi has noted, ‘far from being the coming together of two prodigal sons who had been unjustly separated at birth, [reunification] was more like a loveless UN-arranged marriage between two people who hardly knew each other.’¹²

In the same referendum, Northern Cameroons (the northern portion of British Cameroons), which had a Muslim majority, opted for union with Nigeria. Today, the former Northern Cameroons forms parts of the Borno, Adamawa, and Taraba states of Nigeria. Southern Cameroonians hoped they would be able to preserve and protect their Anglophone identity in a loose federal union¹³

and that this would be assured in constitutional negotiations prior to reunification. Discussions began at a conference in London in 1960 which provided, inter alia, that specific arrangements for the governance framework between Southern Cameroons and the Republic of Cameroon would be worked out at a later conference consisting of representative delegations of equal status from both entities. This conference was attended by two delegations with equal status.¹⁴

In July 1961, a conference was held in the Cameroonian town of Foumban aimed at drafting a constitution. The Southern Cameroonian delegation favoured a loose union that would allow a degree of cultural autonomy. However, the French Cameroon delegation led by President Ahmadou Ahidjo sought to consolidate the latter’s centralised executive powers and extend them over Southern Cameroons as well.¹⁵

The Foumban conference was followed by a meeting of the governing delegation of the Southern Cameroons led by Premier John Ngu Foncha and President Ahidjo in Yaoundé in August 1961. This resulted in the adoption of the Constitution of the Federal Republic by the National Assembly of the Republic of Cameroon. Significantly, neither UN nor British representatives were present at these two meetings. Moreover, the Southern Cameroons House of Assembly did not adopt the Constitution, raising a fundamental question about its legitimacy.¹⁶

Pierre Messmer, one of the last French high commissioners in Cameroon and a confidante of President Ahidjo, has been quoted as saying that he and other key role players were aware at the time that the new Constitution provided for a ‘sham federation’, which really amounted to an ‘annexation of West Cameroon’ (the former Southern Cameroons).¹⁷Ahidjo’s bad faith was further demonstrated when, in the guise of a referendum held on 20 May 1972, he unilaterally decided to abolish the Federal Constitution in direct contravention of the Constitution’s provisions. These events allowed the Anglophone movements to claim, in 1993, that the union between Southern Cameroons and the Republic of Cameroon ‘had proceeded without any constitutional basis’. These manoeuvres and betrayals are the root cause of the ‘Anglophone problem’. Other contributing factors are further examined below.

Political and Socioeconomic Inequalities

As foreseen by the Anglophone elite in Southern Cameroons, reunification resulted in the territory being marginalised. This was reflected in worsening political, social and economic inequality. Political power was consolidated in the hands of the Francophone majority and a few members of the Anglophone elite.¹⁸ This asymmetry has manifested in various ways.

Prior to reunification, Southern Cameroons was endowed with various economic assets, such as the West Cameroon Marketing Board, the Cameroon Bank and Powercam, the port of Limbé, and the airports at Bamenda and Tiko.¹⁹ However, after independence and reunification, these structures and projects were neglected and allowed to fall into ruin.²⁰ Indeed, the Anglophone regions are among the most poverty-stricken and unequal in the country,²¹ trailing in terms of schools, hospitals, roads, and market centres, despite the region’s government-controlled oil wells being a key contributor to the Cameroonian economy. Moreover, managerial positions in public parastatals, such as the SONARA oil refinery and the Cameroon Development Cooperation (CDC) Banana Plantation in Tiko, are largely occupied by French-speaking Cameroonians.²²

According to the Institute for Peace and Security Studies (IPSS) at Addis Ababa University, the two Anglophone regions lag behind the French regions in terms of public investment. In a 2020 report, the IPSS stated that, in the 2017 budget, the French-speaking Southern region was allocated some 570 projects valued at more than $225 million, the English-speaking Northwest region has some 500 projects worth more than $76 million, and the English-speaking Southwest region some 500 projects worth about $77 million.²³ This is not an exhaustive list, however.

The political and social dynamics are similarly unbalanced. The Anglophone minority are under-represented in key government positions as well as the civil service. For instance, of the 67 members of government, only three Anglophones occupy high-level Cabinet positions. The Speaker of the National Assembly, Minister for Justice and Legal Affairs, Keeper of the Seal, Chief Justice, and Minister for Finance are all Francophone Cameroonians.²⁴ Nfi notes that from the time of the late President Ahidjo to the present regime of President Paul Biya, the Francophonisation of Anglophones has been the dominant modus operandi. For instance, French dominates English in administration, education, and the media. Many schools and other educational institutions in Anglophone Cameroon have been staffed with Francophones who teach lessons and set examinations in French or Pidgin English.²⁵

Anglophone frustrations extend to the judiciary as well. For instance, according to the IPSS, in 2016, some 1 265 magistrates were French-speaking and only 227 English-speaking; and of 514 judicial officers, 499 were Francophone and 15 Anglophone.²⁶. Anglophones claim that even when they are nominated, they are forced to play subordinate roles, irrespective of merit or competence.²⁷

Impact on Human, National and Regional Security

The conflict has claimed significant casualties on both sides of the divide, and both the military and separatist or secessionist groups have targeted innocent civilians.

In April 2021, Jess Craig wrote that the worsening violence in Cameroon’s Anglophone regions was taking an increasingly heavy toll on civilians, with renewed attacks on schools and a spate of incidents involving improvised explosive devices and extrajudicial killings documented in recent months. Citing a UN report, he wrote that the five-year-old conflict between government security forces and armed separatists had displaced more than 700 000 civilians and forced another 63 800 across the Nigerian border.²⁸

Overall, the UN estimated that three million of the four million people in Cameroon’s Northwest and Southwest have been affected. At least 4 000 civilians had been killed in the Anglophone regions, a toll surpassing that in the Far North region, where Boko Haram had been waging an armed campaign since 2014.²⁹

In May 2021, in a report for Foreign Policy magazine, Craig wrote that for the previous five years, factions of a secessionist movement in south eastern Nigeria and a pro-independence movement in western Cameroon had been gathering momentum, mobilising supporters through social media, and clashing with government security forces in both countries.³⁰

In April 2021, leaders of both movements announced a formal alliance with the potential to ignite violence and instability in the two countries and across the West and Central African regions, where violent extremist organisations affiliated with the Islamic State and al Qaeda were establishing a foothold. In early April, Cho Ayaba, leader of the Ambazonia Governing Council, and the Biafran leader Nnamdi Kanu appeared at a press conference live streamed on social media to announce a strategic and military alliance. Representatives of both movements said they would work to ‘secure their shared border and ensure an open exchange of weapons and personnel’.³¹

Craig added that the Biafran and Ambazonian movements were both fractured, and not all factions supported the alliance and rising violence.³² However, escalating violence in southeastern Nigeria and western Cameroon could only add to national and regional security challenges at a time when the region was already struggling with plummeting economies, democratic backsliding, and a resurgence of violent extremism and terrorism.

Therefore, the stakes are high, particularly considering that the announcement of a formal alliance between these movements could ignite violence and instability in the two countries and across the West and Central African regions.

The outbreak of war in the Anglophone regions has paralysed businesses, especially with the advent of separatist organised and respected ghost towns. Among other things, food supply lines from the rural areas to the cities and towns have been disrupted.³³ The education sector has also been badly affected. Wanton kidnapping has taken hold and become a new norm in the English-speaking regions, with children and teachers being used as bargaining chips.³⁴ Schools have been shut down and destroyed,³⁵ and water and electricity supplies have been cut off for weeks on end. Moreover, since 2016, rural health services have been disrupted due to shortages of health personnel, damaged or destroyed health facilities, and restrictions on freedom of movement, including ongoing roadblock.³⁶ According to Insecurity Insight, humanitarian access to the Anglophone regions has deteriorated. Aid workers are often misinformed by people linked to the separatist movement and have been kidnapped individually or in groups.³⁷

Government Response

When the crisis began in 2016, the Cameroon government was in denial. This included, among others, Paul Atanga Nji, the Minister in charge of Special Duties in the Presidency at the time, and the Minister of ommunication, Issa Tchiroma Bakary, who rejected the notion of an ‘Anglophone crisis’.³⁸ However, from 2017 onwards, the government adopted a more cohesive and militarised approach, banning protests and arresting and detaining leading protesters.³⁹ At the same time, it established a commission for promoting bilingualism and multiculturalism. This was followed by a commission on disarmament, demobilisation and reintegration, and the granting of ‘special status’ to English-speaking regions after the October 2019 national dialogue.⁴⁰ However, these measures have been rejected as poorly planned and superficial. For instance, the ‘National Dialogue’ held in October 2019 suffered from a lack of prior consultation and failed to address the core issue, namely, statehood. The granting of ‘special status’ and other measures emanating from the dialogue were regarded as inadequate because they only benefited administrative elites.

International and Regional Response

The international reaction to the Anglophone crisis has been marred by rhetorical innuendos, with little or no concrete action taken. For instance, the African Union’s (AU) apparent unwillingness to intervene is not surprising. When the crisis started escalating in 2017, Nkosazana Dlamini-Zuma, then Chair of the AU Commission, issued a statement calling for restraint, while encouraging the Cameroonian government to continue engaging in dialogue as a means of finding a lasting solution.⁴¹ Two years later, in 2018, during a two-day visit to Cameroon, the current AU Chair, Moussa Mahamat Faki, called for an inclusive dialogue involving all stakeholders ‘based on national leadership and ownership’.⁴²

However, the AU’s approach towards the resolution of the crisis has been sharply criticised by human rights groups and other observers. Netsanet Belay, Africa Director of Amnesty International, criticised the AU for its ‘persistent inability… to marshal the determination, political will and courage to hold member states to account for clear violations of AU principles, values and standards on especially human rights’⁴³ However, neighbouring Nigeria has expressed its support for the Cameroonian government in its fight against the separatists. President Muhammadu Buhari has bluntly stated that Nigeria would ‘take necessary measures within the ambit of the law to ensure that its territory is not used as a staging area to destabilise another friendly sovereign country’.

African countries have opposed UN intervention on the multilateral front. For instance, Norway and the Netherlands attempted to introduce an agenda item on the crisis at the UN Security Council in 2020. This was brushed away after failing to garner the minimum nine out of 15 votes. Equatorial Guinea, Ethiopia, Cote D’Ivoire and South Africa all voted against attempts to bring the crisis up for discussion in 2021.⁴⁴ The relatively muted reaction of some African states is not surprising, however, considering they are faced with similar security issues linked to secession.

By contrast, in April 2019, the European Parliament adopted a resolution calling on the Cameroonian government to ‘organise an inclusive political dialogue aimed at finding a peaceful and lasting solution to the crisis in the Anglophone regions’, urging the AU and the Economic Community of the Central African States (ECCAS) to push for talks, and calling for the European Union (EU) to support this process.⁴⁵ In March 2019, the United States (US) Undersecretary of State for African Affairs, Tibor Nagy, visited Cameroon and held talks with President Biya. Following the visit, he reportedly called for the release of Maurice Kamto, leader of the Movement for the Renaissance of Cameroon, and fellow activists. He further stated that the Cameroonian authorities needed to be ‘more serious in their management of the Anglophone crisis’.⁴⁶

In July 2019, the US House of Representatives passed Resolution 358, calling on the conflicting parties to ‘respect the human rights of all Cameroonian citizens, to end all violence, and to pursue a broad-based dialogue without preconditions to resolve the conflict in the Northwest and Southwest regions’.⁴⁷And, on 7 June 2019, the US Secretary of State, Anthony J. Blinken, announced visa restrictions on ‘individuals who are believed to be responsible for, or complicit in, undermining the peaceful resolution of the crisis in the Anglophone regions of Cameroon’⁴⁸. However, the recent visa restrictions will have very little impact because they do not target a specific group of people, whether they are in Cameroon or in the diaspora. If the US really wants to end this crisis, it should be more proactive by calling on all the belligerents (government and separatist leaders) at home and abroad to come to the negotiation table.

Conclusion and Recommendations

The Cameroon crisis threatens to destabilise the entire Central African region. It has reaffirmed that 60 years after reunification and independence, inherited borders have failed to secure the long-held ideal of national unity. Given growing perceptions on both sides that victory is unattainable, the time is ripe for a neutral party to step in and bring the disputants to the negotiating table. Moreover, as long as the conflict continues, more lives will be lost, and many more people will be displaced. This will also further strain an already ailing economy and probably increase regional instability, especially in a context where Cameroon is already menaced by insurgents from the south as a result of the instability in the Central African Republic (CAR), Boko Haram, and a fragile Chad from the north.

Both parties should take reconciliatory and concessionary steps to de-escalate the conflict. The government should also fully acknowledge the existence of the Anglophone problem, considering that many Francophone elites and government officials are still in denial.

The Anglophone crisis has demonstrated the limits – at least in Africa – of presidential centralism and a governance system that depends on co-option. Other governance systems and forms of statehood should be considered under which inherited cultures at independence could be harnessed for the benefit of the entire state.

Self-determination is often interpreted to mean the right to secede and declare independence. But it can also take other forms, such as local autonomy, similar to the autonomous rule Canada has granted to Québec, a federal system with a strong central government that protects minority rights, and/or a confederation of states.

Finally, there have been widespread calls for a referendum in Southern Cameroons as a means of resolving the ongoing crisis. It may be beneficial for the international community to step in and organise a referendum in which Southern Cameroonians could decide once and for all among separatist, federalist and unionist options.

Dr Anslem W. Adunimay is a Junior Research Fellow at ACCORD.

The original version of this article was first published on the site of the Department of Politics and International Relations, University of Johannesburg.

The post Secessionists Movements and their Implications for Security in Africa: The Case of Southern Cameroons appeared first on ACCORD.

There is a growing perception that many African governments are failing to take meaningful, substantive and sustainable measures to improve the standard of living of their citizens

Tweet

It is against this backdrop that there is a growing perception that many African governments are failing to take meaningful, substantive and sustainable measures to improve the standard of living of their citizens. This has propelled citizens to resort to protest action with the intention of articulating their dissatisfaction and grievances related to government failures or inaction. This growing dissatisfaction is equally augmented by growing insecurity on the continent where state security agencies and multilateral institutions have failed to protect civilians from violence. Most African government responses to COVID-19 were relatively swift and to a large degree had acute- though unintended- repercussions which had dire effects on the economy thus straining and compromising people’s livelihoods. Equally so, these responses to either disperse protestors or maintain calm have resulted in the loss of life and destruction of property due to security forces’ interventions where protestors are confronted with brute force.    

The COVID-19 pandemic had substantially disrupted and altered African economies and subsequently plunged a significant number of its citizens further into expeditiously desperate levels of poverty. With a considerable number of the population living below the poverty line, the growing dissatisfaction with governments’ action or lack thereof is often expressed through protests over the skyrocketing cost of living which has swept across the continent.

In cases such as Zimbabwe and Nigeria, universities have not been spared the financial hardship where tuition fees have sky-rocketed along with the cost of living thus compromising and denying access to higher education for the greater part of the populations. In Zimbabwe, 16 university students were arrested and later released due to their peaceful demonstrations. In Nigeria, university lecturers have been on strike for at least eight months and have recently suspended the strike as negotiations continue between the state and affected stakeholders.

Recent protests in countries such as Sierra Leone, South Africa, Mozambique, Senegal and Ghana have been triggered by the cost of living crisis. 31 people died during protests in Sierra Leone, including 21 civilians and six police officers. Protests ensued in South Africa over the soaring cost of living, poor service delivery, power and water cuts and unemployment rates in Cape Town and Pretoria that were led by the Congress of South African Trade Unions (COSATU).

Protesting truck drivers in Mozambique blocked roads as they protested against the all-time high diesel and petrol prices as the government introduced a temporary reduction in a fuel levy. At least one person died after a violent altercation broke out between protestors and the police over tensions between the ruling party and opposition party in Senegal. Clashes between the police and hundreds of demonstrators in Ghana ensued as protestors displayed their frustration during an authorised two-day protest over fuel price hikes, a tax on electronic payments and other levies as the country battled rocketing inflation and an economic downturn. The protests were intended to denounce economic hardships. The Ghanaian government has ruled out the prospect of requesting assistance from the International Monetary Fund (IMF) despite warnings of a looming debt crisis. Due to financial hardships, protests have become a knock on effect of bad governance but protests caused by the exorbitant food and fuel prices have not been the only protests that have been the centre of attention in Africa.     

Post COVID-19 protests are not limited to financial hardships resulting from the hike in food and fuel prices. They have also been a response to spasms of violence such as that of the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) protestors demanding the eviction of the United Nations Organisation Stabilisation in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (MONUSCO), claiming that the mission failed to stem violence in the country. Several civilians, Congolese police and peacekeepers died in the protests that lasted for many days in recent months. MONUSCO has been in the DRC since 30 November 1999 (it costs approximately $1billion annually) and is one of the UN’s biggest missions in Africa and yet violence persists. Civilians claim that the peacekeeping mission has failed to protect them from militia violence that has wreaked havoc in the region over the years. The recent anti-UN protests have been active since July 2022.

Protestors in Burkina Faso on 30 September 2022 and South Sudan on 21 January 2022, have called for an end to military rule and a return to civilian rule where progressive constitutions can be put into place. Thousands of Sudanese protested against last year’s military coup and demanded a return to civilian rule and an improved standard of living. Approximately 102 people have died as a result of violent crackdown on the weekly protests that have occurred since the coup.

Hundreds of disgruntled protestors took to the streets of Tunis, Tunisia’s capital over food shortages caused by soaring inflation compounded by ongoing political unrest in September 2022. In 2021 Tunisian President, Kais Saied dissolved parliament, a move the opposition viewed as a “coup”.  Unrest followed after the government increased the price of cooking gas cylinders by 14% earlier in September 2022. It also hiked the price of fuel four times this year in order to reduce energy subsidies that are in line with IMF conditions to secure a loan to recuperate public finances that were used for subsidies. Police responded by firing tear gas on the protestors with the intention of dispersing the crowd.

On 15 October 2022, the National Salvation Front (a coalition of opposition parties in the Islamist-inspired Ennahdha) organised a protest where thousands of Tunisians took to the streets demanding an end to the power grab by Saied. Another protest was also organised by the Free Destourian Party (PDL) in Tunis. Additionally they called for accountability and solutions to the country’s longstanding economic crisis which was crippled by the corruption by the late dictator Zine El Abidine Ali. The National Salvation Front has declared that they will boycott a December vote which will elect a new parliament that was dissolved by Saied (who introduced a one man rule last year).   

The return of civil and political protests that are being initiated in some African countries, and which they continue to experience, deserve equal if not greater consideration by conflict resolution practitioners

Tweet

It is evident that there is an intersectionality of a myriad of issues that compel civilians to take to the streets to air out their grievances against their governments. The impact of the COVID-19 pandemic along with soaring food and fuel prices have exacerbated the ongoing issues that citizens have with their governments. Even if at the turn of the century Africa may have seen a decline in interstate wars, the return of civil and political protests that are being initiated in some African countries, and which they continue to experience, deserve equal if not greater consideration by conflict resolution practitioners.

Zikho Dana is an intern at ACCORD

The post Mapping post-COVID-19 Protest Trends in Africa appeared first on ACCORD.

While it is true that the coups in Mali and Guinea were greeted with popular celebration, it is not evident that the celebration by members of the public is actually the military’s seizure of power @SolomonADersso

Tweet

What evidence is there of a resurgence of coups? 

It is the first time that the African Union (AU) has suspended four countries for unconstitutional changes of government. Indeed, the research that we carried out at Amani Africa indicates that 2021 was the first year in which Africa experienced the largest number of military coups since 2003. According to Antonio Guterres, it has become a season marked by an ‘epidemic of coups’. Between April 2021 and February 2022, in a period of 10 months, Africa has experienced five military seizures of power.

Until 2021, the trends in the occurrence of coups in Africa was largely characterised by decline despite its sporadic occurrence. As our research shows, the maximum number of coups that Africa has experienced since 2000 was in 2003. Since then, there were a few years (2005, 2008 and 2012) when a maximum of two coups occurred, with several years without coups, except one instance of what is called a military assisted transition in Zimbabwe. 

It is clear from the statistics thus far that Africa is experiencing a resurgence of coups. It is also worth noting that out of the five coups that took place in less than one year, three took place in the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS) region. 

What accounts for this resurgence of coups in Africa? 

For example, from the coup in Guinea our research at Amani Africa identified at least five issues that explain why the coup in Guinea occurred:  

1. The first is the crisis in state-society relationship in which the government lost public legitimacy. In a clear indication of this damaged relationship, the coup did not elicit visible public opposition in Guinea. Indeed, the downfall of Conde’s government was greeted by widespread celebrations on the streets of Conakry. Opposition leader Cellou Dalein Diallo welcomed the coup for bringing ‘the failure of the dictatorial regime’. 
2. Second, the coup and the public reaction it elicited also signifies that the election that took place in October 2020 was anything but credible, free and fair. It attests to the fact that the election, held in a highly tense and charged political context and in a playing-field tilted decidedly in favour of the incumbent, became a stage-managed exercise organised to give a semblance of democratic credential for extending Conde’s stay in power. 
3. Another feature of countries that faced coups is the lack of effective separation of powers and checks and balances. In Guinea, the executive arm of government came to concentrate so much power to the point of rendering the constitutional roles of parliament and the judiciary ineffective in placing checks on the executive authority. It is worth noting that the Constitutional Court certified the highly contested constitutional referendum that paved the way for Conde’s third term.
4. Fourth, in all these cases, the various constitutional mechanisms for effecting change of government such as election, impeachment and recall are rendered ineffective. Where the possibility for using political and constitutional procedures for change of leadership and holding the government accountable is absent, it forces the public to resort to popular uprising or to seek the intervention of the military to orchestrate a coup d’état.  
5. The coup is also a manifestation of governance issues in the security sector. It highlights a crisis in civil-military relationship and in the professionalism of the army as well as the existence of weak command and control. It is a manifestation of the politicisation of the security sector. As in cases such as Sudan, it also highlights the deep entanglement of the army in politics. All cases of coups also highlight the poor state of professionalism of the security sector, particularly the army. That the army arrogates the role of being the arbiter of politics and hence deciding when to play the role of ‘correcting’ the wrong in the politics of the country (by ousting the incumbent government and seizing power) is the most prominent manifestation of the military’s abuse of its control of the means of violence. 

One can add to the foregoing two additional factors. The first such underlying factor is the disregard and indeed violation of the rights and freedoms of the people. All cases of unconstitutional changes of government are preceded by and involve violations of human rights. The other factor is the changes in the security situation of some countries leading to an enormous gap between the capacity of national security institutions and the violence resulting from terrorism.

It is clear from the statistics thus far that Africa is experiencing a resurgence of coups. It is also worth noting that out of the five coups that took place in less than one year, three took place in the ECOWAS region @SolomonADersso

Tweet

Popularity of recent coups? 

It is not uncommon to see many commentators pointing out that recent coups have popular support. While it is true that the coups in Mali and Guinea were greeted with popular celebration, it is not evident that the celebration by members of the public is actually the military’s seizure of power. But, as Sudan’s experience of the April 2019 seizure of power by the military illustrates, the celebration by the public was more for the end of the old regime than an expression of support for the seizure of power by the military. Indeed, not long after the military’s takeover of power, civilian protestors directed their opposition against the military that seized power. 

As in Sudan, the cases of Burkina Faso in 2014 and Mali in 2020 highlight that the public can celebrate the end of the old regime while at the same time rejecting the control of government power by the military. This is not surprising. After all, in almost all cases the security sector, including the military, often serve as the main instrument for enforcing the authoritarian and repressive rule of the old regime whose fall the public celebrates. 

These are some of the issues that any policy response needs to deal with for it to be effective. Thus, the use of sanctions, unless anchored on a political strategy that addresses the underlying conditions and the drivers of coups and without support from the public, stands little chance of leading to return to constitutional order. Indeed, as Mali’s experience since 2012 shows, any return to constitutional order that is confined to getting the men and women in uniform back to the barracks without the necessary institutional and governance reforms tackling the factors behind the coup will not be long lasting.

Solomon A. Dersso is the Founding Director of Amani Africa, an Addis Ababa-based think tank.

The post Key questions about recent coups in Africa appeared first on ACCORD.

Political transitions through peaceful democratic processes have been steadily ascendant in Africa. This is an achievement to be celebrated, particularly as the African Union reaches its 20th anniversary @jmartyns

Tweet

Political transitions through peaceful democratic processes have been steadily ascendant in Africa. This is an achievement to be celebrated, particularly as the African Union (AU) reaches its 20^th anniversary. In the past two years alone, 19 countries in Africa held elections. In these elections, 37 percent were won by the opposition while approximately 63 percent were characterised by the re-election of the incumbency. This trend is consistent with the outcome of elections over the last decade (2011 to 2021), in which one out of three have been won by opposition parties. 

African citizens have increasingly come to rely on elections as a foundation for demanding change, accountability, and responsiveness from their governments. Still, the recent rise in military coups, if not addressed, may undermine progress made over the last three decades in the promotion of constitutional order. 

The AU denounced the uptick in military coups at its January 2022 Summit, and in April issued a declaration calling for renewed efforts to tackle the resurgence in what it terms ‘unconstitutional changes of government’ (encompassing coups and other forms of disruption to constitutional order). UN Secretary General António Guterres has urged the Security Council to act in response to an ‘epidemic of coups d’états’ unfolding on the world stage.

The rate of recent coups is equivalent to the total number of coups in the last decade, from 2010 to 2019. It also presents a striking parallel to the number of coups that Africa witnessed during the dominance of authoritarian regimes from the mid-1970s to the mid-1980s (see Figure 1 below).

Figure 1: Pattern of Military coups in Africa (1960 to 2022)

The aftermath of coups d’états in Burkina Faso, Guinea-Conakry, Mali (twice) and Sudan, as well as a failed coup in Guinea-Bissau are still unfolding. The time is ripe to reflect: what explains this spike, and what can be done to prevent them and restore constitutional order when they occur?

Incompleteness of previous transitions, underlying development and governance shortfalls and related citizen frustration emerge as salient factors shaping the trajectory of the countries that experience coups @jmartyns

Tweet

The first issue to note, in looking into drivers, is the way in which earlier political transitions in some of the affected countries have been characterised by incompleteness. Since 2012, Mali has vacillated between transient civilian rule and military coups. In Guinea and Sudan, there is evidence of similar contestation between attempts to consolidate reform and civilian administration on the one hand, and incursion by the military into politics on the other. The fact that the AU has initiated suspensions 13 times against just six of its member states due to unconstitutional changes of government provides a clear indication of this pattern of incomplete transition in some countries. The countries in question are Burkina Faso, Central African Republic, Egypt, Guinea, Mali and Sudan. 

Second, there is some evidence to suggest a correlation between a country’s experience of a military coup and its socio-economic, governance and overall fragility contexts. Burkina Faso, Chad, Guinea, Sudan and Mali are ranked at the bottom of the UNDP Human Development Index. The HDI measures life expectancy, expected years of schooling, average years of schooling, and Gross National Income per capita. A low score indicates significant shortfalls in progress towards Agenda 2030 and Agenda 2063. These countries also rank low in the Mo Ibrahim Governance Index and are among the top countries in the Fragile States Index. Despite decades of development assistance, these countries are, in other words, still stuck in what some have called the ‘fragility trap’.

A related third set of drivers are citizens’ own desire for positive change, which relate to increased democratic aspiration on the continent and can inspire popular protest movements but also readily be instrumentalised by putschists. This is not to suggest that citizens’ perceptions justify military coups. Rather, it is evident from early findings of a new UNDP research project examining these issues, that prolonged frustrations and unmet expectations of citizens can serve to trigger popular support for any change of government, irrespective of whether it is through constitutional or unconstitutional means, at least in the short-term. 

Incompleteness of previous transitions, underlying development and governance shortfalls and related citizen frustration emerge as salient factors shaping the trajectory of the countries that experience coups. They are experienced more widely across the continent however and cannot therefore be taken alone to explain coup occurrence. 

A fourth set of factors to be considered is the sub-regional specificity of recent events. A concentration of the coups has played out in the greater Sahel. It is perhaps no coincidence that this is a region which has become increasingly militarised over the past decade. Since 2012 the United Nations (UN), European Union (EU), French, United States (US) as well as regional forces have deployed at scale, responding to multiple intersecting crises such as terrorism and irregular migration.

Some analysts have long argued that investing in the region’s governance should be prioritised over and above the dominance of security approaches. The latter has sometimes raised the issue of the use indiscriminate force, which could erode state-citizen trust. Failure to reduce violence despite deployments has furthermore shaped the region’s political culture, with a leader’s ability to provide security seen as a priority. 

At a time when competing global priorities are draining resources and shift attention away from Africa, focus and commitment is needed. At least four sets of priorities emerge:

Refocusing Sahel engagement

The upcoming AU – UN assessment of the Sahel offers a renewed opportunity for rethinking collective international support to national and local efforts for sustainable peace in the region. Some early results in the ongoing implementation of stabilisation in the Lake Chad Basin region, which contribute to the peace-development nexus provide inspiration. Reimagination of narratives about the Sahel, emphasising positive opportunities for  growth and prosperity for its peoples should provide a foundation for new pathways for peace and sustainable development in the region. Vigilance on the conduct of security actors and scaling up governance priorities must be at the fore.

Ensuring timely responsiveness by partners to support inclusive political transition processes

Regional and international partners, including development agencies and financial institutions, need to demonstrate their readiness to support and sustain the ongoing transition processes underway on the continent – in and beyond the Sahel.Transition plans can harness opportunity for positive transformation through inclusive national dialogue. Economic and other levers that can incentivise political and military actors to meaningfully engage with citizens and to honour timeframes and commitments are a priority. Proactive and pre-emptive engagement is also critical to prevent further instances.

Deepening the quality of democracy

The sudden uptick in military coups over the past 24 months has sounded a dramatic warning note as to the welfare of African democracy, with some evidence of initial support for the coups in each of Burkina Faso and Mali. The current era has also seen an increase in leaders revising their constitutions, introducing extended term mandates in order to prolong and maintain power (what some have termed ‘constitutional coups’). 

Taken together, these dynamics mark an overall shift towards an increasingly authoritarian context. More Africans now live under fully or partially authoritarian states today than has been the case over the past two decades.

Continued efforts to reconcile the gap between procedural and meaningful democracy are urgently needed.International development partners must reframe the wide basket of interventions designed to foster good governance, effective rule of law, security, justice and human rights and electoral democracy itself, taking limitations in achievement to date on board. 

Leveraging the evolution and implementation of continental norms 

The AU, as well as regional bodies such as ECOWAS, have played an important role in responding to the recent coups. The role of the AU is informed by the Lomé Declaration and normative frameworks including the African Peace and Security Architecture and African Governance Architecture. The predominance of the response by regional institutions has been through suspension of member states from the AU and/or ECOWAS. 

The AU is also taking new initiatives to be better equipped to respond should there be further such instances – including, in partnership with UNDP, establishing a new Transitions Facility that will provide predictive analysis, support countries and enable regional institutions on inclusive transitions, grounded in a major forthcoming research study. Critical questions as to the implementation of norms, and the incentives of AU member states to adhere to them, have come urgently to the fore and require continued attention. 

Jide Martyns Okeke, PhD, Coordinator, UNDP Regional Programme for Africa and Jessica Banfield, UNDP Senior Consultant

The post Hot-Air or a Resurgence? Making Sense of Unconstitutional Changes in Government in Africa appeared first on ACCORD.