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Over the past several weeks, the world has watched with absolute amazement as a mass popular protest in Tunisia has toppled the country’s decades long dictatorship. Inspired by the suffering of a young man and motivated by their anger over high levels of poverty, unemployment and food prices, Tunisians, young and old, male and female, rallied in several cities, many in peaceful protest of the Ben Ali regime and its corrupt ways. It took only days of increasing protest and violent opposition, to force the reprehensible Ben Ail from power and fleeing for his life. Revolutions in the traditional sense are a rarity these days; due mostly to a combination of a general lack of popular support, political defeatism and tight control over populations by autocratic regimes. However, the rise of web-based communications technology has led to increased political awareness, particularly amongst the world’s youth. Political savvy organizers have used mass media and communications to undermine traditional government controls. Events in Tunisia sparked waves of consciousness throughout the country and throughout the larger North Africa, Middle East region. Through mass protest, Tunisians exposed the tremendous weakness of their hollow government and made great gains for political reform. However, their continued protest is needed more so than ever to ensure that lingering autocratic elements do not threaten the Tunisian people’s sacrifices. 

Tunisia first obtained its independence from its former French colonizer in 1957; however, like so many other African nations, independence only meant a new form of dictatorship for the Tunisian people; this time at the hands of one of their own. After 1957, power was concentrated in the hands of Habib Bourguiba, who although is credited with orchestrating Tunisian independence from France and with modernizing the country, was all too happy to assume the position of ‘president for life’, only to be ousted by his own prime minister, Zine El Abidine Ben Ali. Ben Ali soon proved an even worse alternative, as the advancement of human rights and the protection of basic freedoms in Tunisia, gradually diminished. In addition, Ben Ali and his family, orchestrated a widespread and despicable campaign of corruption, which involved not only robbing the country’s coffers, but the extortion of small business owners throughout the country, all to fund the family’s lavish lifestyle. Ben Ali’s wife, Leila Trabelsi, is widely and rightfully despised as the ultimate symbol of corruption and excess; she and her family is accused of an extensive racketeering network from which all family members benefited. Leila herself owned over 50 luxury cars and was known for designer clothing shopping sprees and for flying in luxury foods by way of the family’s private jet. Ultimately, with the country suffering massive unemployment, the populace grew intolerant of the President and his family’s corrupt ways. This anger and resentment served as a strong contributing factor to the President’s ouster, as well as to retributive acts perpetrated against family members after Ben Ali’s removal.

The Jasmine Revolution, though fueled by fury over government corruption and malfeasance, began with a simple, yet devastating act of self-sacrifice. A young man, college educated and yet unemployed, set himself on fire, unable to cope with overwhelming frustration over his plight. On December 17, 26-year-old, Mohammad Bouazizi, was selling vegetables on the street in the impoverished Tunisian town of Sidi Bouzid, as he had done for seven years. The income he derived from the vegetable sales served as the main source of livelihood for his family of eight, which included his mother and several brothers and sisters. In this town of so many downtrodden, Mohammad was considered lucky to have any income at all. Mohammad’s troubles on this particular day began when a local policewoman confiscated his vegetable cart. When he tried to pay the fine for selling without a license, the policewoman refused the money, physically slapped the young man, spat in his face and then insulted his dead father. Feeling quite humiliated, Mohammad approached the provincial government headquarters, seeking recourse; however, local officials refused to hear his complaint. It was then when the dejected Mohammad returned home, doused fuel all over him and set himself on fire.

It did not take long for news of Mohammad’s plight to spread, not only throughout Tunisia, but the world. Mohammad initially survived his self-immolation, and his continued suffering garnered immense sympathy from Tunisians. Mohammad’s story was not unique; millions of young men and women across Tunisia shared in his plight. Educated and unemployed, with no support from their own government, Tunisians, young and old, took to the streets in protest, which eventually culminated in the ouster of villainous Ben Ali, as well as his reprehensible family and associates. Revolutions are often triggered by single events that invoke the underlying anger and frustration of a people. Mohammad’s actions, which unfortunately resulted in his death on Jan. 4^th, sparked an outrage amongst Tunisians that could not be contained by such hollow gestures as Ben Ali’s visit to the dying man, which in many ways was largely insulting (for the perpetrator is the last person any victim would seek comfort from). Tunisians’ persistence in protesting the Ben Ali regime soon reaped astounding and yet surprising rewards. The Tunisian government collapsed and Ben Ali did what most cowardly criminals do when facing justice: fled.

The swiftness of such events within Tunisia warrant deep examination. As similar acts of self-immolation and protest occur throughout North Africa and the Mid-East, many wonder whether other governments won’t also topple under equal popular pressure. However, the collapse of the Tunisian government, specifically the Ben Ali regime, was only partly attributed to popular protest. Political conditions within the country, in particular growing factionalism within the regime and the security establishment, contributed significantly to the government’s long-awaited downfall. In many ways, popular revolt aggravated growing frustrations within these institutions. By the second week of protest, policemen and military officers had joined the march; and many public officials had stepped down, some out of confusion, some out of solidarity with their people. When Tunisia’s ambassador to the Paris-based UNESCO, Mezri Haddad, announced that he was stepping down, he stated, “I can no longer vouch for what is going on in my country.” Many officials of course were quick to sever ties with the ruling party, the Constitution Democratic Rally (RCD), solely for self-serving purposes and in a desperate attempt to remain politically relevant.

Splits in the security establishment first became evident in the first week of mass protests. As the situation deteriorated and violence against protesters escalated, large factions of security forces, which includes the military and police, increasingly laid blame on forces loyal to Ben Ali and his regime, causing an irreversible rift that played out on the streets of Tunis and elsewhere. Security forces shortly began battling each other; gun fights between forces loyal to Ben Ali and those in opposition were reported throughout the capital and the military called for reinforcements in the South as it battled other security forces. In addition, General Rachid Ammar, the country’s top military official, has reported to have played a significant part in the events of the past few weeks. Ammar reportedly refused to carry out government orders to fire at protesters and permitted protests throughout Tunis to proceed uninterrupted at several key points. The compartmentalization of security forces was central to the Jasmine revolution’s success. Dictatorships rely heavily upon the loyalty and absolute submission of security forces in controlling the populace; without this control, Ben Ali and his regime stood no chance against popular protest. In determining whether similar revolutions are possible in other North African and Mid-Eastern countries, dictatorship control over security forces must be considered. Without a significant breakdown in unity and chain of command amongst security forces, countries like Algeria and Egypt, where protests are currently ongoing, will not easily see revolution.

Currently, the Tunisian military establishment seems to have thrown its weight behind the transitional government, which is a bit worrying, given the fact that several of its members were major players in the former regime. However, the Tunisian military is a highly professional force that is largely apolitical; hence its decision to momentarily back the transitional government could just reflect its desire to re-establish law and order. Nevertheless, Tunisians should remain wary, as a lessening in popular pressure could be exploited by former elements, allowing them to re-establish themselves politically and a newly empowered Ammar may also exploit his new position to further personal political ambitions. Currently, Prime Minister Mohamed Ghannouchi, Defense Minister Ridha Grira, Interior Minister Ahmed Friaa and Finance Minister Mohamed Ridha Chelghoum have managed to maintain their posts in the transitional regime, which are all key positions within any government. All four men present a real threat to any democratic reform and are just as culpable as Ben Ali in the human rights abuses, repression and corruption that ran rampant under the former regime. Their continued presence within Tunisian government should be viewed with intense skepticism, particularly since their attempts at inclusion within the transitional regime have been somewhat unsubstantial. The current interim President Fouad Mebazza for instance is a long-time RCD member, and there are only three opposition representatives in the interim government, who have been given only minor cabinet posts: higher education minister, health minister and development minister—although the health minister recently resigned in protest of Ghannouchi and his cronies’ continued presence in the government. Ultimately, Ghannouchi’s removal is crucial to the full eradication of the dictatorship and to ensuring real democratic change.

Although the transitional regime’s composition is suspect, there have been positive developments garnered by continued mass protest, which includes the arrests of several officials from the previous regime, as well as the arrest of Ben Ali family members who tried to flee, and the issue of arrest warrants for Ben Ali and several other of his family members who did manage to flee. In addition, the ban on most other political parties has been lifted (although the chief Islamist and Communist parties remained banned), and leaders of opposition parties who had been previously exiled have now returned or are planning to return; this includes Moncef Marzouki, leader of the secular Congress for the Republic party, who has been a vocal opponent of Ben Ali’s rule for nearly two decades. Political prisoners have also been freed, including prominent journalists who were outspoken critics of the regime.

Presidential and parliamentary elections are now scheduled in six months time. All the while, protests continue, and unions have begun strikes, all in objection to the continued participation of former Ben Ali agents within the transitional regime. The actions of the Tunisian people, the current regime and security forces in the next few weeks will be critical to defining Tunisia’s political future. The Tunisian people must maintain momentum by remaining relentless in their demands for real political change and they must continue to demand support from the security establishment. The Tunisian people’s success at achieving democracy through revolution is certain to have great implications for the wider region. Success in Tunisia will motivate and inspire other peoples throughout the region, and perhaps the world, to challenge their repressive governments. It is clear that the Ben Ali regime was far weaker than believed; it took less than a week to completely devastate his dictatorship. It is only logical to assume that other similar regimes may also be lacking in ‘real’ power and may topple just as easily when seriously tested.

Dear Mr. President:

I would like to draw your attention to the current trend of events in Cote d’Ivoire.  As you read this letter, this West African country finds itself under threat of war. A war that although ‘strategically planned’ is certain to result in the death of thousands of innocent civilians, and the disturbance of peace and security in the region.  Encouraged by the International Community, some African nations are planning a military intervention in the country in response to an ongoing, but legitimate political dispute over the presidency. The International Institute for Justice and Development (IIJD) believe strongly that peace and justice must always be preserved, especially in the case of Cote d’Ivoire, where circumstances surrounding the current political crisis have raised legitimate questions regarding the rule of law and thus the validity of an Alassane Ouattara presidency. We call upon your leadership now so that together we can resolve the current political crisis in Cote d’Ivoire without resorting to the use of force. 

Description of Current Situation in Cote D’Ivoire

On October 31, 2010, Ivorian citizens went to the polls to elect their president and to regain their right to inclusive democratic elections after many years of civil war. Although the hope was that Cote d’Ivoire would undergo a fair and peaceful transition in governance, a fiercely contested election results have led to the swearing in of two presidents, whose victories have been determined by conflicting decisions made by two of Cote d’Ivoire’s national institutions:  The Independent Electoral Commission (IEC) and the Constitutional Council (CC). The President of the IEC, without reaching a consensus as is required by law, declared Alassane Ouattara winner, while the CC, which has ultimate authority in election matters, declared Laurent Gbagbo victor, after reviewing voting reports and irregularities.

From the very beginning of the electoral process, the Electoral Commission’s lack of impartiality was obvious.  Controlled by political parties, it was intentionally designed that way to satisfy all parties to the 2002 peace agreement in order to end a major civil conflict that had divided the country. The IEC, which is comprised of 461 members, is over 90% pro-Ouattara. Gbagbo’s support is limited to a mere 42 members.  In order to have everybody involved in the peace and political process, President Laurent Gbagbo initially agreed to this composition of the IEC because by law, any decision made by the Commission would have to be unanimous and all votes would have to be made both manually and electronically, ensuring a check upon the system. In addition, Laurent Gbagbo knew that the Constitutional Council (CC), whose head is appointed by the president, had final determination on Presidential and legislative elections in Cote d’Ivoire.  The Ivoirian Constitutional Council is victim of the apparent lack of independence common to most African countries’ justice systems in certifying elections rigged by the ruling party.

Both the IEC and the United Nations (UN) were tasked with overseeing and monitoring the October presidential election; however, there were significant obstacles to the successful implementation of this task, which included serious abuses by pro-Ouattara rebel forces in the North, as well as the IEC’s reported tampering with election results. Northern rebel forces loyal to Ouattara refused to disarm before the elections, as was required by the peace agreement. Rebel forces then prevented substantial UN involvement in election preparation and monitoring in the North. Without any protection, Gbagbo’s northern supporters faced serious pressure and violence from opposition and rebel forces. The few international and African election observers that had access in the North documented cases of murder, beatings and intimidation of pro-Gbagbo voters, and ballots were being supervised, stuffed, and carried by rebel forces, contrary to election rules.

As a result of rebel interference, voting irregularities in the North were significant. In addition, in several districts, the IEC mysteriously reported different voting results from independent, international election monitors. For instance, in the district of Bandama, election monitors reported a total of approximately 150,000 votes for Ouattara; however, the local IEC put Ouattara at 245,000 votes, a 95,000 vote surplus that could not be explained. Also, of the 20,073 manual tally-ups of votes submitted for electronic verification, 2,000 were rejected for over-stating the number of registered voters, which altogether accounted for an additional 600,000 votes. Furthermore, the IEC overstepped its authority in unilaterally invalidating absentee voting ballots from over 28 districts in France.

For the election, the IEC was tasked with reviewing and reporting election results and determining the victor through consensus by a designated deadline date, as is required by law. The IEC was also required to report voting irregularities and human rights abuses to the CC, which exercises sole authority over such matters. However, the IEC failed in both regards, first by violating its mandate in announcing Alassane Ouattara’s victory without reaching consensus and well beyond the deadline, and second, by not properly addressing major election and human rights abuses. Shortly after the IEC announced its decision, the  Constitutional Council claimed, after a review of election results and reported irregularities, that incumbent President Laurent Gbagbo had actually won the election, thus invalidating the IEC’s determination—a power it alone possesses under the Ivorian constitution.

When the president of the IEC, Mr. Yousouf Bakayoko appeared at the Golf hotel, which Ouattara had been using as his headquarters, to proclaim well beyond the designated constitutional deadline, that Ouattara had won the election, the IEC had reached a consensus and consolidated the results in only 15 of the 19 electoral areas of Cote d’Ivoire.  No consensus had been reached at that time for four areas under the rebellion’s control, where voting irregularities and violence were observed. However, the results given by the Head of IEC included the contested numbers from the North. By that point, Cote d’Ivoire’s constitution clearly gives the Council final say in determining election results. After examining the claims of irregularities, and analyzing the reports and tallies, the CC partially invalidated some of the fraudulent votes from the northern regions and, after the adjustments were completed, proclaimed Laurent Gbagbo as winner with 51.45% of the vote to Ouattara’s 48.55%. 

The Post-Electoral Dispute

On the basis of the IEC’s results and with increasing support from the International Community (IC), Mr. Alassane Ouattara maintains that he is the elected president. He claims that the CC had abused its authority.  However, in reviewing election results and announcing Gbagbo victor, the CC, which is structured and organized in the same way as the French Constitutional Council, exercised its rights and responsibility as outlined by the Ivorian constitution.  The Council is the supreme authority in these matters. It is vested with the constitutional power to declare an election invalid if improperly conducted, and its decisions are binding on all authorities. Given these facts, Gbagbo has remained steadfast in his assertion that he is the elected president.

The International Response:

From the very beginning of this political crisis, the IC has failed to legitimately address the core issue surrounding this electoral dispute, choosing instead to ignore obvious rule of law violations and to offer unmitigated support to Ouattara. The decision by the IC, as well as the UN (whose responsibility is to remain impartial in contending with such matters), to deny the CC its rights and responsibilities outlined under the Ivorian constitution is completely contrary to the principles of the rule of law and to what the IC has demanded of African nations.  The UN acted particularly incredulously in ratifying the IEC’s provisional results without addressing legitimate claims of human rights abuses and election fraud in the North. The UN’s primary responsibility is ensuring free and fair elections and the protection of human rights. It is expected to respond when violations have occurred, and yet in Cote D’Ivoire, it has completely failed to do so.

The IC’s failure to acknowledge or investigate legitimate concerns raised regarding election fraud as well as the Council’s role in the electoral process is deeply regrettable and counterproductive to establishing an environment for sustainable economic and political development in Africa. Furthermore, the IC, which includes the UN, EU, AU and some ECOWAS members, have also failed to sufficiently justify their decision to support Mr. Alassane Ouattara. They have provided neither legal justification, nor convincing evidence in support of their decision to deny the CC its rightful authority to determine the winner under the Ivorian constitution. Given this fact, the IC cannot justify the use of force against any party to the dispute, particularly since the IC rarely ever took such a strong stance on African issues, even in cases of atrocious human rights abuses.                              

The IIJD’s Contribution:

The International Institute for Justice and Development (IIJD) believes the concerns outlined above to be of critical importance to the people of Cote d’Ivoire, as well as to neighboring countries, the sub-region, Africa and the world.  The electoral process must be fair, transparent and impartial for everyone.  All institutions and individuals involved in administrating and observing elections must be held to those principles.  No institution, be it the Independent Electoral Commission (IEC), or the Constitutional Council should be manipulated and/or permitted to bypass those principles.   This is a matter in which justice, a necessary condition for peace and security, must take precedence over political expediency and the narrow interests of a few. International organizations, especially the UN, AU and ECOWAS, should act responsibly to find a peaceful and just solution to the crisis, as dictated by the facts and the best interests of the people of Cote d’Ivoire. 

As an organization that promotes the principles of democratic governance and rule of law, the IIJD has a firm position on democracy in Africa. However, given the facts in this case, nobody could say with certitude today that either Mr. Ouattara or Mr. Gbagbo has won the presidential election in Cote d’Ivoire.  That is why we call upon all parties, including the international community, to exercise restraint in order to ensure the safety and security of all Ivoirians and to seek a just resolution of the situation that first and foremost respects the rule of law and ensures that basic democratic principles are protected.  In order to preserve peace and avoid another war in Cote d’Ivoire, the IIJD proposes the implementation of one or more of the following options: 

1. A complete review of the election results including investigating the irregularities and recounting of all the votes to determine the real winner of the presidential election. 
2. The reorganization of vote in areas where results have been credibly disputed, including all areas where acts of violence and intimidation by security or rebel forces were observed by objective third parties.
3. The implementation of a second election or ‘run-off’ throughout the entire country.

The above three options should be organized, supervised and observed by an independent group composed of reputable NGOs, respected and well-known world leaders and other reputable democratic governance professionals. The IIJD strongly believes that implementing one of the above-mentioned options will ensure respect for the rule of law and due consideration for the circumstances surrounding the dispute.  Furthermore, none of these three options should be viewed as too costly, given the price Ivorians will pay if they must again experience war.

Africa has suffered through generations of war, genocide, economic devastation and political chaos. It is time for a new era of American leadership that promotes real democratic reform, justice and the protection of human rights in Africa. We call upon your leadership in resolving this situation peacefully and with due respect for the rule of law.

The whole continent is observing you.  We firmly believe that with your support, the Ivorian people, and all parties to the dispute, will finally be provided what they have been so wrongly denied thus far: a fair opportunity to justice.     

On behalf of the present and future generations of Africans, we thank you for your consideration of our appeal.

With my highest esteem and sincerest consideration,

One fundamental lesson growing democracies in Africa must learn in order to serve their countries successfully is to endeavor to educate the electorate on the realities of the socio-economic situations while desisting from making unnecessary promises they cannot fulfill in their quest for political power. In recent turn of events after the 2008 general elections in Ghana in which the then opposition party, National Democratic Congress (NDC) was elected into office with myriad promises to reduce poverty within the shortest span of time has culminated into a precarious security situation in the country. Emerging groups of especially the youth calling themselves the “foot soldiers” of the ruling party sprang up in most part of the country taking both civil and public servants who were appointed by the former government hostage purporting it is their turn to share the spoils. The assumption of the NDC to power has come with it a new breed of violent sympathizers who have ignored diplomatic alternatives and adopted the most radical means of achieving their own ends.

Ghana returned to democratic rule in 1992 and has since conducted series of free and fair elections and has had peaceful transitions with power falling into oppositions’ hands. These democratic trends have been lauded by many countries especially the West touting the country’s democracy a “Noble Democracy”. In spite of these worldwide acknowledgements, Ghana’s democracy is yet to be firmly grounded since both past and present leaders did not do enough to elevate the living standards of the people and have not eschewed the politics of mischief by making promises they cannot fulfill overnight.

What has become a cumbersome but dangerous situation for the current government and the security apparatus to curtail in the country is the growing animosity being perpetrated by these ‘foot soldiers”. These groups emerging in most parts of the country purports they are grassroots stalwarts who groomed, and fought under the tunnels and trenches to bring the NDC party in power after it went into opposition for eight years.  In the wake of the campaign period, the party’s leadership thirsty for a come back made numerous promises that when they come into office, they will eliminate poverty and add value to the living standards of the supporters. After close to two years in power, these promises upon which the electorate gave them the mandate to rule is yet to materialize.

Against this backdrop, the youth especially feels they were deceived and decided to go on rampage to demand their share of the economic booty. Some of the nefarious activities perpetrated by these groups are that they seized public toilet facilities and local government offices. At certain points they demanded the heads of District Chief Executives they claim were underperforming.

In January 2010, some of these “foot soldiers who were arrested and brought to court showed no remorse to their actions in the court but insisted that it was within their “”right” as NDC foot-soldiers to dismiss anyone perceived to be “a stranger” to the ruling party holding any public office”. These ‘foot soldiers’ contended that “since government was formed out of the party, its actions and inactions should be of great concern to the party, and that the party is encumbered to jealously guard the interest of the party. We want the government to know that it is the party that owns the government and not the government that owns the party”.

The Vice president, John Dramani Mahama on an occasion took strong reservations against these “foot soldiers” of his party expressing worry about the recent violent demands of party foot soldiers. According to him, the approach by the foot-soldiers should be a matter of concern to every Ghanaian. The Vice President underscored that “the recent seizure and closure of government buildings and offices is a canker that must be of concern to all political parties”. “This is a canker that plaques all political parties and as one we must think of a solution to this problem. In my mind a foot soldier or a cadre of an idea or a party or an organization is one that is prepared to sacrifice for the organization in order to keep the fortunes of the organization…,” he said. “Now the kinds of foot soldiers we have in Ghana are different. They will work during the campaign and help you to get into power but once the party gets into power they must be served first; no sense of sacrifice. So the question is: Who is a foot soldier and what is the definition of a foot soldier?” Mr. Mahama quipped in one of his speeches. He said the attitude of foot soldiers asking for heads of government institutions to be replaced by members of the ruling party can be dangerous as a change in government will mean a change of such new appointees.

“Invariably, every four years government could change and what will we be doing to our institutional growth if every four years we sack our managers and everybody and recruit new ones belonging to a certain political party and then the next four years government changes and we sack everybody and we bring in new ones belonging to a party. There is no way any country can grow in an environment like this,” he indicated.

The Vice president’s criticisms of his party’s “foot soldiers” were laudable. However, the prevailing consequences of their actions were precipitated by the party’s leadership who did not reason much of the current state of the country’s economy. The situation is created because of the failure on their parts to tell the truth.

Even though these ongoing upheavals perpetrated by the so-called NDC party “foot soldiers” have received castigations and condemnations across the political divide and some religious leaders, the government has done little to clamp down their activities.  It goes without saying therefore that these attitudes by the “foot soldiers” have been rampant and consistent; attracting less punitive actions since the party do not want to incur the wrath of its supporters. These lawless trends of events are very detrimental to the security and stability of the country. It is creating an atmosphere of insecurity and panic in both public and civil servants wondering when these tags will surface in their offices and demand their removal.

These turn of events in the political terrain of Ghana is worth discussing. In as much as one might want to condemn the illegitimate means these groups adopt to register their grievances against government not meeting their needs, one should pause and ponder why some politicians continue to take things for granted. What is happening now in Ghana is a clarion call to politicians across the African continent that it is about time they faced the reality of situations and told the truth as it is to the electorate so as to avoid higher expectations after they are elected into office. Politicians can no longer take the electorate for granted. Whereas these means to attaining power is not carefully looked at, precedence is set to gradually weaken the democratic processes to electing leaders to represent constituents.

Imperatively, politicians should endeavor to take the necessary steps to educate and explain the real socio-economic situations to their supporters during campaign periods. In this regards they will not be under pressure to deliver within the shortest possible time when elected into government.  Similarly, politicians should not only focus on solving remote problems in order to seek re-election but the right measures should be put in place to create a society that will enjoy sustainable developmental projects.

Almost simultaneously, the people of Guinea and Cote D’Ivoire carried out their democratic duty of electing a new president. While for the very first time Guineans were exercising their democratic right to vote in free and fair elections, Ivorian citizens were trying to regain their right to inclusive democratic elections after many years of civil strife. Although the hope was that both countries would undergo a fair and peaceful transition in governance, only the Guinean people have been afforded that opportunity, with presidential contender Cellou Dalein Diallo’s recent decision to concede defeat. Cote D’Ivoire’s incumbent president Laurent Gbagbo, has instead refused to concede the election, citing election fraud: a claim that certainly holds legitimacy. These two events in many ways define the state of democracy in Africa today. Whether democracy will prevail is entirely dependent upon the integrity of the election and perhaps more importantly, the perception by the population of the election’s fairness and of an individual’s willingness to accept defeat when lawfully required. While for now Guineans have been fortunate to escape the tribulations of further election challenges and violent confrontations between parties, Ivorians are under serious threat of civil conflict, as an internally disputed election threatens peaceful democratic transition.  

The Guinean people’s struggle to attain democracy culminated recently with a presidential election between Alpha Conde, long time opposition leader, and Cellou Dalien Diallo, former prime minister and member of the traditional political establishment. Guineans had suffered through 25 years of dictatorship, but after the death of long time despot Lansana Conté, it seemed Guineans finally had sufficient political space to potentially establish long-awaited democracy. However, the political ambitions of a low ranked military officer, Moussa Dadis Camara, threatened to once again plunge the country into the deep abyss of autocracy. Fortunately, military infighting resulted in a bullet to the head for Mr. Camara and a transfer of power to a civilian transitional regime led by General Sekouba Konaté. General Konaté, a former ally of Camara’s, has proven his commitment to establishing a functional democracy through the implementation of free and fair presidential elections. Although the initial presidential election provided no clear winner and thus prompted a run-off, whose run-up was marred with sporadic violence, the elections process has been widely lauded. The transitional leadership assured proper voter registration, fair access for all candidates and extensive security during campaigning and voting. The run-off pitted the two front runners against one another: Condé (who received a mere 18% of the original vote), and Diallo (who received 44%); interestingly, the reason for Condé’s low voter percentage was the high number of opposition candidates on the ballot. During the November run-off, Condé represented the whole of the opposition and as a result won the election with 53% of the vote.

After the run-off, Diallo and his supporters attempted to challenge the results through the courts, claiming election fraud in several of the northern districts, but his claim was ultimately rejected by Guinea’s Supreme Court and Condé was confirmed as president. Many were naturally concerned that Diallo would use his influence over his supporters to challenge the court’s decision, essentially holding democracy hostage to serve his own personal political ambitions—just like others before him. However, going against what is increasingly viewed as the norm in Africa, Diallo actually ceded defeat and urged his supporters to accept the court’s decision in favor of national reconciliation. The frequency of coups d’etat in Africa, either in the form of changes to term limits, military takeovers or unconstitutional compromises, is alarming. Many now come to expect these outcomes during times of major political change, which is why Diallo’s concession was ultimately so surprising and certainly merited praise. Diallo distinguished himself from others because he chose to navigate the country’s democratic institutions in contesting election results and upon failing to garner the desired result, accepted a democratically made decision.

When comparing the stark contrast in the post-election situation between Guinea and Cote D’Ivoire, one must consider the political and social conditions in each country. Clearly, circumstances in Guinea were far more favorable for peaceful democratic transition. After decades of dictatorship, the population, although divided somewhat amongst ethnic lines, had unified in their desire for democratic reform. Never was a population so ripe for democracy, particularly after having suffered major human rights violations under the Camara regime. Another advantage for Guineans was the presence of a strong multilateral transitional regime and the support of a mostly unified military (unlike Cote D’Ivoire which has a separate rebel force operating in the North). Guinea’s transitional President Sekouba Konaté provided much needed leadership, as well as sufficient muscle to ensure the cooperation of all parties, which was key to ensuring widespread fair elections.

Such was not the case in Cote D’Ivoire, which narrowly avoided civil war only years earlier and is clearly divided by regional and religious lines. Alassane Ouattara viewed by the international community as President-elect represents the opposition, which is essentially comprised of the Muslim-dominated North, an area that has faced increasing neglect by a Southern-dominated Ivorian government. Although Ouattara represents the ‘opposition’, which in the African context has in many ways come to be perceived as always representing the ‘oppressed’, Ouattara’s past history would suggest that his intentions may not be so noble. Ouattara is the former Prime Minister, who served under the now late dictator, Ivorian President Félix Houphouët-Boigny. Ouattara’s quest for the presidency began nearly two decades ago, and his initial failure at obtaining the post is what many say prompted his aggravation of civil conflict in Cote D’Ivoire. Many accuse Ouattara of inciting ethnic tension between the North and South for his own political ends. Gbagbo’s record on the other hand is quite impressive. Gbagbo predominantly represents the Christian South and the country’s first real democratic regime. Gbagbo was a long-time opposition leader during the Houphouët-Boigny dictatorship, who campaigned for increased independence from its former colonial power, France—rather interestingly, France’s recent decision to support Ouattara is viewed as suspect by many, given Ouattara’s previous connection to Francophile Houphouët-Boigny regime. Ultimately, Gbagbo’s past history and action lends him more credibility as a reliable, democratic leader than his rival.

In addition to a clear division of the Ivorian population along geographical and religious lines, the presence of UN and the influence of the French government also change the political dynamic. The French government will naturally work to ensure its interests are protected—it operates a military base in the country and has intervened before. Many blame France’s military intervention in the conflict in 2003-2004 as the reason Ivory Coast remains divided today. The UN and its peacekeeping force, on the other hand, have the rather difficult task of acting impartially but also enforcing the principals of democracy, hence its backing of Ouattara, who was deemed winner by the country’s Independent Electoral Commission (IEC)—although the decision was not unanimous and was immediately disputed by the country’s Constitutional Council. Another serious impediment to ensuring an independent political process is the obvious partiality of several key governmental bodies, which includes the IEC and the Constitutional Council. The Independent Electoral Commission in Cote D’Ivoire, which is comprised of 461 members, is over 90% pro-Ouattara. Gbagbo’s support is limited to a mere 42 members. Gbagbo initially agreed to this composition in 2002, because by law, any decision made by the commission would have to be unanimous and all votes would have to be made both manually and electronically, ensuring a check upon the system. In addition, Gbagbo maintained the support of the Constitutional Council, whose leader is an ally of Gbagbo. The country’s military also continues to provide Gbagbo valuable support, and Gbagbo’s control extends to state television, which does pose a significant problem for any opposition and democracy in general.

The bias of these above mentioned institutions has certainly come into play throughout the election process in Cote D’Ivoire. Although UN presence within Cote D’Ivoire was extensive, rebels in the North prevented substantial UN involvement in election preparation and monitoring in the North. Without any protection, Gbagbo’s northern supporters faced serious pressure and violence from opposition and rebel forces. The IEC and the few international observers that had access in the North documented beatings, killings and other forms of intimidation committed against Gbagbo supporters. In addition, voting irregularities were reported in several districts. There were reports of rebel forces supervising, stuffing and carrying ballots, contrary to election rules. In an obvious case of fraud, Chadian NGO Chadian Action reported that in the rebel-controlled district of Bandama, Ouattara won 149,598 votes, but the local IEC reported 244,471 votes for Bandama. Where did the additional 95,000 votes come from?

Irregularities like these clearly bring merit to Gbagbo’s accusations of significant fraud; in addition, Gbagbo is correct in his assertion that under the law, responsibility of determining the election winner shifts to the Constitutional Council if the IEC fails to announce the provisional results of the election by the designated deadline date. Furthermore, as stated above, the law requires that the IEC come to its decision by consensus, which did not occur. The president of the IEC Yousouf Bakayoko  took the press by surprise on December 2, 2010 when he appeared at an hotel, which Ouattara had been using as his headquarters, to announce that Ouattara  had won the election in the second round with 54.1% of the vote, against 45.9% for Laurent Gbagbo. Results had been expected and then postponed for days, beyond the deadline.

The Constitutional Council immediately, by the voice of its President Paul Yao N’Dre, took to the airwaves to say that the IEC had no authority left to announce any results, because it had already missed its deadline to announce the results, and consequently the results were invalid.  After examining the reports and claims of irregularities, the Constitutional Council cancelled the results from the disputed northern regions, thereby swinging the outcome narrowly in favor of Gbagbo, who was credited with 51.45% of the vote, while Ouattara had 48.55%.

On the basis of the IEC’s results, Ouattara maintained that he was the elected president and said that the Constitutional Council had abused its authority.  The country’s constitution gives the Council final determination of election results.   In reviewing election results and announcing Gbagbo victor, the Council exercised its rights and responsibility as outlined by the Ivorian constitution. No other structure according to the Ivory Coast constitution has the power to do so but the Constitutional Council.   In addition, France also has a Constitutional Council (CC) which decides the presidency, using the same procedure as in Ivory Coast.  In both France and Cote d’Ivoire, the Council’s two main areas of power are:

1). The first is the supervision of elections both presidential and parliamentary and ensuring the legitimacy of referendums. The Council issues the official election results; it ensures proper conduct and fairness of the electoral process. The Council is the supreme authority in these matters. It can declare an election to be invalid if improperly conducted, or if the elected candidate used illegal methods, or if he spent for his campaign over the legal limits.

2). The second area of Council power is the interpretation of the fundamental meanings of the constitution, procedure, legislation and treaties. The Council can declare dispositions of laws to be contrary to the constitution or to the principles of constitutional value. It also may declare laws to be in contravention of treaties signed. Its declaration that a law is contrary to constitutional or treaty dispositions renders that law invalid. The decisions of the Council are binding on all authorities.

In Coté d’Ivoire, just like in France, the President of the Constitutional Council is appointed by the President of the Republic; therefore, any attempt to criticize the Council in Coté D’Ivoire for being pro-Gbagbo is simply absurd. The law designs it so that the Council is supportive of the president, whoever that may be. The decision to deny the Council its rights under the Ivorian constitution is completely contrary to the principles of the rule of law required by democratic governance. The international community’s failure to acknowledge and accept, not only the legitimate concerns raised regarding election fraud, but the Council’s role as well is deeply suspicious and is clearly a decision marked by political exceptionalism, favoritism and expediency. It would be absurd if the international community opposed the 2000 US Supreme Court decision—which made George W. Bush the winner of the US presidential election—and instead supported Al Gore, threatening military action if Gore was not given the post. In addition, could the international community or any other entity invalidate or ignore France’s CC’s decision just because they decided they didn’t like that individual’s politics? The United Nations, in which France has strong influence, has lost significant credibility as a result of its unfettered support of Ouattara and its failure to recognize legitimate democratic procedures and to address serious concerns over disputed election results.

Although Gbagbo has legitimate concerns regarding election irregularities, his actions in handling the electoral dispute warrant criticism, particularly his use of security forces against the opposition and the ongoing manipulation of state media to launch a propaganda campaign in his favor. In addition, it is widely noted that the IEC’s failure to announce the winner by the deadline date was caused in part by the ruling party’s direct interference. It was reported that days before the deadline, the ruling party physically prevented the IEC’s spokesman from announcing the results on television—although results were determined without reaching the consensus needed for such action to occur.  And although the Constitutional Council exercised its constitutional responsibility and democratic duty in reviewing and ultimately nullifying disputed election results, its determination of Gbagbo being the rightful winner is still viewed by the international community and many Ivorians as questionable.  In the Ivorian case, the UN defended its decision to support the IEC’s decision by contending that even if irregular votes were nullified from several disputed districts, Ouattara still leads in votes over Gbagbo. However, since that statement was made by the UN representative in Cote d’Ivoire, President Laurent Gbagbo has requested and proposed a full recount of the votes to determine who really won: a request that has yet to be taken into consideration by Mr. Alassane Ouattara and his supporters, who seem to only be interested in the physical removal of Gbagbo.  The International Community has also remained quiet on this subject. A recount, similar to what just occurred in Alaska, is the position being supported by the former French foreign minister and President of France’s Constitutional Council, Mr. Roland Dumas, who has just completed a fact finding trip to Cote d’Ivoire along with the internationally reknown French lawyer Jacques Verges.

With unanimous international support of Ouattara and mounting pressure for Gbagbo to relinquish his position, Gbagbo’s obstinacy in maintaining the presidency and his continued desire to negotiate with Ouattara has led many to believe that he might be opened to a similar power-sharing deal as was implemented in Zimbabwe and Kenya in 2008, which is also a major concern and has great implications.

In February 2008, African leaders and other members of the international community set a dangerous precedent, when they negotiated a power-sharing deal between Kenyan President Mwai Kibaki, who like Gbagbo refused to relinquish power, and opposition leader Raila Odinga, who had essentially won the presidential election but was denied the position. The precedent proved dangerous because it basically sent the message to all African leaders that if you make enough of a commotion after losing an election, you can remain in power. This apprehension over the deal was certainly warranted given the fact that the political formula which resulted in a power-sharing deal in Kenya was not unique to Kenya. In fact, obstinate leaders, ethnically divided populations and military interventionism were fairly characteristic of most African nations.

Fears were substantiated in September 2008 when Zimbabwe Dictator Robert Mugabe orchestrated a campaign of horror against the opposition and then refused to cede power after a fraudulent election. Instead of being forced from his position, Mugabe was offered a similarly conceived power-sharing deal, which once again permitted the obstinate president to remain in power, while simultaneously creating a prime minister position, void of any real independent power. Although many lauded this as a first step towards democracy in Zimbabwe, the deal ultimately made a mockery of it. Even worse, it offered a semblance of legitimacy to the dictator’s rule. The deal in Kenya, a politically progressive state, was particularly devastating because it destroyed democracy in Kenya. Kenya will not be a democracy again until its president is decided by election, not by negotiation. Even with an environment different from what we had in Kenya and Zimbabwe, the situation in Cote D’Ivoire is highly reflective of Kenya two years prior; thus it is imperative that the international community prevent any party from capitalizing from this precedent.  

The International Institute of Justice and Development (IIJD) has a firm position on democracy in Africa, but in this specific case of Cote D’Ivoire, we call upon all parties to exercise restraint in order to ensure the safety and security of all Ivorians. In regards to the political situation, the IIJD calls upon all parties, including the international community, to continue to seek peaceful resolution of the situation that first and foremost respects the rule of law and ensures that basic democratic principles are protected. The UN and the larger international community have the responsibility of creating an environment in Cote D’Ivoire that guarantees a free and fair presidential election and that protects democratic procedures and institutions. We therefore call upon the UN, AU, EU, ECOWAS, France and the US to help resolve the crisis in Ivory Coast through peaceful negotiation, not by inciting and supporting mercenaries, rebel forces and/or Ouattara, unilaterally.  We think it’s necessary to remind the international community of Mr. Allasane D. Ouattara’s reported role as the main architect and financier of the Ivorian civil war, as well as his failure to demonstrate his capability and willingness to respect the principles of democracy when he had the opportunity to. We urge France to respect the institutions of the sovereign Cote d’Ivoire, especially the executive and judicial branches.  France’s involvement in Cote D’Ivoire’s internal affairs must end.  We also call Gbagbo supporters, Ivorian security forces and any opposition forces to halt attacks and/or violence against civilians and UN peacekeepers and other personnel. We ask that both camps refrain from using children and innocent civilians for political purposes.  

For the sake of democracy, peace and security, and since elections have become a source of conflicts in Africa,  the IIJD recommends the establishment of an organ at the UN with the specific mission of helping create within member countries the institutions and the environment that can guarantee peaceful transition to democracy and organize/supervise free and fair elections wherever they are planned.   By taking such proactive approach, the Ineternational comunity through the UN will begin playing an active role in promoting peaceful transition to democracy, in organizing and observing free and fair elections, and preserving peace and security throughout the world.   The international community will therefore have the means to effectively promote democracy, while sending a clear message to world leaders and dictators around the world that self-serving, autocratic behavior will no longer be tolerated.

The IIJD strongly recommends the implementation of one of the following options in resolving the current dispute over Cote D’Ivoire’s presidential election:

1). A formal review of the election results including recounting of all the votes to determine the winner presidential election, performed by a completely independent mission of experienced international NGOs and respected leaders and professionals.

2). The implementation of a second election in areas of disputed results, significant irregularities and reported acts of violence and intimidation. The election would be supervised and administered by the UN, the AU and observed by reputable internationals NGOs.

3). The implementation of a second election or ‘run-off’ throughout the entire country. The election would be supervised and administered by the UN, the AU and observed by reputable international NGOs.

The IIJD believes that only the implementation of one of the above-mentioned three options will ensure respect for the rule of law and due consideration for the circumstances surrounding the dispute. The IIJD calls upon the international community to act fairly in its resolution of this crisis and to fulfill its UN mandate of fostering democracy justly and impartially.

The IIJD to honor the Interim President of the Republic of Guinea, President of the Transition, General Sékouba Konaté, and the US Ambassador in Guinea H.E. Patricia N. Moller.

The International Institute for Justice and Development (IIJD) will host a ceremony in Washington DC to honor both the Interim President of the Republic of Guinea, General Sékouba Konaté and the United States Ambassador in Conakry H.E. Patricia N. Moller

President Sékouba Konaté, interim President of the Republic of Guinea, President of the transition will receive the “Africa Leadership Award” for reviving and exemplary leading the democratization process in the Republic of Guinea, West Africa.

US Ambassador in Guinea has been nominated to receive the “Outstanding Performance and Effective Diplomacy Award” in successfully promoting democracy in the Republic of Guinea.

President Sékouba Konaté and Ambassador Patricia Moller have together demonstrated throughout the Guinean democratization process how a combination of good leadership and effective diplomacy can be successful in promoting democracy and positive results in Africa.

The event will take place in Washington, DC on a date to be announced soon.

Please, Contact the IIJD to discuss sponsorship opportunities and reserve you seat or a table at the Award Ceremony.  Thanks

For the fourth year now, the Mohamed Ibrahim Foundation has released its Ibrahim Index, which uses a series of basic indicators to measure political and economic progress across Africa. Not surprisingly, the Index revealed a steady increase over the past year in economic development throughout Africa, a result of improved governmental policies, increased foreign direct investment (FDI), more focused development assistance and general ingenuity on the part of regular African citizens. However, although the Index demonstrates a significant level of economic progress on the continent, it also reveals some rather disturbing trends in the area of political development and human rights. The results indicate that there was a significant decline in many countries in physical security, political participation and human rights protections, with the worst offenders being Somalia, Sudan, Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), Eritrea, Zimbabwe and Chad. These decreasing trends are cause for concern, as they reflect a growing threat to basic rights and security; in addition, any decline in governance quality is certain to impede further economic reform.

The Ibrahim Index, which was first developed in 2004, specifically measures the delivery of public goods and services to citizens by government and non-state actors; its main goal is to assess quality of governance in Africa. There are a total of 88 indicators divided amongst four main categories: Safety and the Rule of Law (SRL); Participation and Human Rights (PHR); Sustainable Economic Opportunity (SEO); and Human Development (HD). Under safety and the rule of law, countries are rated on level of citizens’ personal safety (violent crime, social unrest, human trafficking, etc.) and the rule of law, which includes strength of judicial process, judicial independence, property rights, etc. It also rates them on accountability and corruption and finally, national security, which includes domestic armed conflict, government involvement in armed conflict, number of civilian deaths, refugee exodus, number of internally displaced persons, etc. Those countries that scored highest (out of 100) under the category of Safety and Rule of Law were Mauritius (90), Botswana (88), Cape Verde (84), the Seychelles (81) and Namibia (80). Those that scored the worst, or the ‘offenders’, were Somalia (8), Sudan (22), DRC (33), Zimbabwe (35), the Central African Republic (35), Chad (38) and Coté d’Ivoire (38). In addition, there were several countries that did not have the lowest scoring, but did have significant decreases in their scores over the past year. These include Madagascar, which went from 64 to 51 points (a 20% decrease); Rwanda (from 56 to 47 pts); and Gambia (56-50 pts). Overall, Africa experienced a slight decline in this category from a total average of 56 to 55 pts.

In terms of the political participation and human rights category, which encompasses free and fair elections; women’s rights and gender equality; and political rights such as freedom of speech and press, the continent’s average is the poorest of the four categories at 45 pts, a decrease of 3 pts since last year. Rather disappointingly, not a single African nation scored above 80 pts in the category, and once again the top leaders were Cape Verde (79.7), Mauritius (77), South Africa (73), Botswana (69) and the Seychelles (68.7). The worst offenders were Somalia (12), Equatorial Guinea (19), Libya (19), Sudan (23), Chad (23) and Swaziland (27). Notable declines were also seen in Madagascar, whose score fell from 63 to 51 pts (19% decrease); Niger (49 to 38 pts); Mauritania (53 to 44 pts); and Sierra Leone (59 to 52 pts). It is worth noting that in several sub-categories, individual country scores fell into the mere single digits. For instance, Eritrea shockingly scored below Somalia in the Participation and Rights sub-categories (Eritrea scored just 3 pts in Participation, while Somalia scored 4; it scored a mere 6 pts compared to Somalia’s 9 pts in Rights).

Some of these results were to be expected, particularly those concerning Africa’s worst offenders such as Somalia, Sudan, DRC, Zimbabwe and Libya. Somalia is a perpetual failed state, while Sudan and Zimbabwe continue to be ruled by dictatorships, functioning under a façade of minimal democracy. In addition, the Libyan government remains a dictatorship, whose peculiar structure and function deny Libyans basic human/civil rights. While the poor performance of these particular governments comes as no surprise, there were some interesting declines that warrant further examination, the most obvious of course being Madagascar, which saw a 20% decrease in both the Safety and Rule of Law and Participation and Human Rights categories.

Madagascar’s decline began with a civilian coup in January of 2009. After days of widespread heated, anti-government protests over the country’s desperate economic situation, Andry Rajoelina, the mayor of Madagascar’s capital city Antananarivo, seized power, declaring President Marc Ravalomanana’s reign over. Rajoelina then declared himself the new president and promised to set up a transitional regime and eventually restore democracy to the country. The coup, even if ‘well-intentioned’, was entirely illegal. Even worse, it destroyed any democratic progress achieved in Madagascar since its independence in 1960 and since major democratic reforms during the 1990’s. The period that followed the coup was characterized by political uncertainty and the virtual loss of democratic rights for Madagascar’s people. Human rights groups have reported multiple violations by the ‘transitional’ regime, still led by Rajoelina. According to victims, both the civilian regime and the military have orchestrated killings, arbitrary imprisonment or other forms of deprivation of freedom, torture, rape and persecution against the civilian population. The severity of the situation in Madagascar has been compounded by the lack of political progress and the refusal of the current regime to execute previously agreed to power-sharing deals. As of now, Madagascar remains in a state of flux while it awaits the restoration of its Parliament, which was dissolved last year. Madagascar is scheduled for a referendum on a new constitution next month, local elections in December, parliamentary elections in March and a presidential vote in May. In the mean time, Madagascar’s citizens will continue to suffer under a veritable state of dictatorial anarchy, which will likely result in the country’s continued low scoring on the Ibrahim Index in the categories of personal safety, rule of law and human rights.

Another country that warrants further scrutiny, as a result of it scoring below Somalia in the political participation and human rights categories, is Eritrea. Eritrea, a single party presidential republic, has often been reproached by the international community and human rights groups for its human rights record. Eritrean authorities often make arbitrary arrests of political/civil leaders, journalists and regular citizens. In 2001, a crackdown on dissent led to the imprisonment of eleven former government leaders, journalists and hundreds of other alleged dissidents. In addition, the Eritrean government bans minority religious groups, and thousands have been arrested for simply practicing their religion; many of which were subsequently tortured in an attempt to force them to recant their faith. Anyone who protests government action or otherwise challenges the government in any way is also typically arrested, as political dissent is not tolerated. Several thousand prisoners of conscience have remained detention for years, many of them in secret locations or military prisons, where they have likely been subject to ill-treatment, torture, and other cruel and degrading treatment. Furthermore, increased crackdown of student organizations and other civil society groups has led to the fleeing of Eritrea’s youth and young professionals. In addition, the Eritrean government continues to its military conscription campaign, forcing young people (and underage youth) to serve even if they’ve declared conscientious objection.

There is something to be learned from the cases of Eritrea and Madagascar. The Ibrahim Index clearly places Eritrea’s political situation into perspective, by indicating that persons living in Eritrea actually have less human rights protection and less right to political participation than a nation that has no functioning government, namely Somalia. Also relevant is the relationship between a country’s political and economic situation. Eritrea scored only 25pts under the Sustainable Economic Opportunity (SEO) category, which suggests a positive correlation between political health and economic progress. Essentially, economic progress cannot occur in a politically restrictive environment, particularly one in which the law is arbitrary and/or is tailored to fit the current regime’s agenda. This is highly evident in the Index; those countries with the lowest scores in the categories of SRL and PHR, not surprisingly also had some of the lowest scores in SEO. Madagascar, which already suffers from a poor economic situation, saw a 3pt drop from 53 to 50pts in SEO, an apparent result of the decline in political stability and general security. Madagascar certainly serves as a lesson for other states in the severe consequences of such extreme and illegitimate political action. In addition, its low score on the index for SRL and PHR is likely predictive of future scores for Niger and Guinea, which both suffered coups over the past few years. In fact, this past year, Niger experienced an 11pt decrease in its PHR score.

Although the Ibrahim Index does not provide a perfect measurement for African successes and failures, it does offer a fairly accurate assessment of major political and economic indicators, which successfully highlight and reflect each country’s overall progress (or lack thereof) in several sectors. It is essentially the first measurement of its kind, providing a base with which to compare situations within countries, between countries and at the regional level. An analysis of the recent Index has provided an alarming picture of the current situation throughout Africa. The general decline witnessed in political participation, human rights and physical security cannot be underestimated. States must work quickly and effectively to remedy any ongoing political, civil and economic problems, to avoid further deterioration. The international community, including regional African organizations, should work cooperatively to place greater pressure upon individual governments to adopt more democratic practices, including greater political participation, as well as legal reform. The release of the Ibrahim Index will hopefully impose upon all actors a greater sense of urgency and overall assist them in determining the countries and areas that require the most pressure, assistance and/or reform.

Recent reports of the mass rape of women in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) once again highlight the vulnerability of women throughout the developing world, particularly in conflict-affected areas. Sexual violence against women continues to be used as a tool in conflict, particularly in Africa, where women are still widely viewed as subordinate to men. However, although it is important to acknowledge the victimization of women, it is equally important to recognize their increasing role in conflict resolution, peace and security. For instance, the UN Special Representative on Sexual Violence in Conflict is a woman; Ms. Margot Wallstrom was appointed to the position just this past year and now leads the investigation into sexual violence in the DRC. In addition, there are women peacekeepers, State Ministers and ambassadors (US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton), as well as Presidents and Prime Ministers (Liberian President Ellen Johnson Sirleaf). The recognition by the international community of the constructive role of women in peace affairs is crucial to ensuring their further inclusion in matters that directly affect women throughout the world and to changing traditional attitudes towards women and their capabilities to ultimately achieve universal gender equality.

Several weeks ago, Trinidad and Tobago’s first female Prime Minister, Kamla Persad-Bissessar, addressed the UN General Assembly (GA) and proclaimed that her country would introduce a resolution on women, disarmament, arms control and non-proliferation in the First Committee of the GA (the committee which is devoted to disarmament, international peace and security). This is the very first time that a resolution focused exclusively on the role of women has been tabled in the First Committee and thus its implications are substantial. The resolution, which is currently being debated, calls upon the UN and all member states to recognize, in accordance with Security Council Resolution (SCR) 1325, the role of women in peace and disarmament affairs. Security Council Resolution 1325, which was passed in October of 2000, was the first to officially recognize women’s roles in the field of conflict resolution, particularly peacekeeping operations. SCR 1325 urged member states and the UN to increase the participation of women in security affairs. The new GA resolution hopes to further the goals outlined in 1325; it is essentially an attempt to operationalize 1325. The new resolution requires states to basically acknowledge the work of women in the wider field of peace and security and further urges them to ensure more equitable representation in state peace and disarmament affairs (although this has since been watered down to ‘increasing their participation’).

To many states, the resolution seems reasonable enough, as many already recognize women’s roles in peace and security issues and even value their contributions above those of their male counterparts. For instance, on a recent trip to the Caribbean to inspect state weapons caches, a political officer for the Department of Disarmament Affairs noticed that it was always a female military officer who controlled the keys to the ammunitions depot. When asked why that was, the military liaison explained that women were simply more trustworthy than men. Women were less likely to steal or sell the weapons, to drink or use drugs or to otherwise act irresponsibly. Women’s contributions to the Department of Peacekeeping Operations (DPKO) have also had a significant impact upon operations. On one particular mission in Africa, while the male peacekeeping units were always late to rise, the woman’s unit was always the first to wake—up at 5am each morning to put up the mission flag, as was required. Their work ethic and integrity eventually had an impact upon their male counterparts, who, upon recognizing the shame in their behavior, also began waking at 5am. In addition, studies conducted in DRC, India and Sierra Leone have shown conclusively that women who are victims of sexual or domestic violence are more likely to report the incident to female police officers or a family unit than to police officers in a traditional police structure, and that women were generally better communicators than their male counterparts. There are numerous other instances in which women have proven their value in peace and disarmament and have even surpassed their male colleagues in terms of performance, productivity and integrity. It is important to recognize this so that women are not always categorized as victims, which only reinforces their subordinate role and undermines their professional and overall societal advancement.

Thus far, more than 11 central African countries have demonstrated their support for the new GA resolution, while Egypt has refused many, if not all, of the resolution’s provisions (its reasons are as of yet unknown). Other states seem to be confounded by the measure, failing to see the connection between gender issues and First Committee matters. Unfortunately, over the years, gender has come to be viewed by many states and actors as an issue entirely separate of other major matters; many are reluctant to even discuss women’s issues without a gender expert present. And then there are of course others that still seek to categorize anything relating to women as being ‘feminist’, a term which unfortunately has taken on a negative connotation. Trinidad and Tobago’s delegation was dumbfounded by the skepticism of its fellow member states. The legal officer who actually tabled the resolution stated that he hadn’t realized how ‘enlightened’ he was. Was it really so difficult for states to recognize women’s contributions to peace and security?

In Africa, where women have typically had little opportunity for substantial participation in the security sector, some progress has been made, particularly in more progressive countries such as South Africa and Liberia. Many countries have also drawn up national action plans for incorporating more women into all public sectors, as well as in the private sphere. However, the pace at which this reform is being implemented is far too slow and in some instances, the inclusion of women amounts to nothing more than providing them with marginal roles. For example, in some police stations throughout Africa, female police officers are permitted to do nothing other than cook lunch for their male colleagues. With such trivial roles, it is impossible for women to advance professionally and achieve higher ranks, both in the military/police and political realms. Although the lack of progress is frustrating, it is important to highlight cases within Africa where there has been success in achieving gender equality and greater opportunities for women. For instance, in Rwanda, major electoral reforms implemented after the genocide ensured more equitable representation in the country’s parliament. Legislative quotas guaranteed women seats in Parliament, and now Rwanda has the most gender equalized parliament in the world; almost half of its representatives are female. In addition, female parliamentarians formed the first multi-party caucus, comprised of both Hutus and Tutsis. In Liberia, a Women and Children Protection section of the National Police was established in 2007, which is specially trained to manage and investigate cases of sexual and gender-based violence. Liberia also instituted a 20 percent quota for female police officers and now boasts a police force that is 30 percent female, higher than many countries around the world.

It seems that several states have demonstrated reservations over the new GA resolution because they are concerned with the ramifications of such formal recognition. Many states do not want to commit additional financial resources to creating a more gender balanced work force within their security sector. Because of these reservations, the resolution has been seriously weakened, an unfortunate blow to an effort that had nothing other than the best intentions. The next few weeks will be critical; the resolution’s survival will depend on the persistence of its supporters and other advocates. For any woman who currently works in the field of political and humanitarian affairs, peace and security and/or development, or who plans to in the future, this resolution has great implications. Thus it is important to recognize the benefits of its passage, which could alter the landscape of peace and disarmament affairs, facilitate a change in perspectives on the issue of gender and ultimately translate into greater opportunities for future generations of women.

Since the end of a horrific civil war that resulted in the total destruction of Somalia’s government, Somalis have struggled to form a national political identity: one that is acceptable to the entire population but also satisfies the international community’s demands for some semblance of moderate democratic governance. The international community has labored determinably in Somalia under the universally-held notion that all countries must have a strong central government. However all attempts at establishing centralized democratic institutions in Somalia have thus far failed, largely because proposed schemes have neglected to properly take into account current political and cultural realities in Somalia. A heavily ethnic-based civil war, compounded by more than fifteen years without formal governance, led to the establishment of xenophobic clan fiefdoms, which came to operate as individual localized governments. In addition, in what have been somewhat successful ventures, particularly in the north, both the northern and central parts of Somalia each formed their own central governments. Although Somalis share a common culture, religion and language, their society is highly factionalized and thus ruled by traditional alliances and rivalries, which unfortunately carry over when forming centralized institutions. Because of the fractured nature of Somali society and the success of localized clan-based government, as well as the gradual establishment of formal separatist states, a highly representative, federalist system of governance with a significantly weak center seems the most feasible in Somalia. The international community must recognize the utility of supporting traditional clan-based fiefdoms and the states of Somaliland and Puntland in achieving relative stability in Somalia. It must focus its efforts on a much more localized level, empowering traditional moderate forces, if it is to counter the extremist threat and prevent further civil conflict.

After Somalia achieved independence in 1960 from its former colonial masters Italy (which controlled Italian Somaliland) and Great Britain (which controlled British Somaliland), it adopted a parliamentary democracy with both a President and Prime Minister at the helm. Somalis’ real first taste of democracy occurred when they voted to adopt a new constitution in a nationwide referendum in 1961. Somalis were quick to accept democratic principles of political and legal equality, as they corresponded to traditional principles of clan equality and representative politics. In addition, during the first several years of independence, Somalis embraced opportunities to engage in political discourse, and political participation was immensely popular, often surpassing levels observed in Western societies. In fact, at the time, a radio was the most desired possession by Somalia’s large nomadic population, as it was the only way to keep up to date on political news. Although it initially seemed as though a democratic system of governance would flourish in Somalia due to the philosophical similarities to traditional cultural practices and the growing popularity of civic participation, a much stronger cultural force proved too challenging a problem to overcome: clan politics.

Unfortunately, the primacy of clan identity in Somali culture meant that in order for any government to be successful in Somalia, it would have to be viewed by the population as being equally representative of each individual clan. Somalis eventually came to reject the parliamentary government formed immediately after independence. Clan disputes over political issues and positions, aggravated by differences in political systems between British and Italian Somaliland, dominated the political landscape and obstructed any attempts at forming an effective integrated government. The demand for a clan-based political system would continue to be an obstacle to the promotion of civic citizenship based on human and civil rights and democratic principles of governance. In essence, the very task of having to form a central government would further exacerbate existing clan divisions, leading to the establishment of ineffective authoritarian rule and eventually culminating into a full-scale civil war (1991-97) that completely destroyed formal governance in Somalia.

The dominance of a centuries-old clan system in Somalia has led to strong kinship amongst clan members that continues to define the Somali way of life to this day. The six major tribes in Somalia are the Darod, Isaaq, Hawiye, Dir, Rahanweyne and Digil; in addition, there are a series of smaller clan families that stem from the six main clans. Clans are interrelated through complex networks of social relationships that actually extend over clan territories, making it difficult sometimes to assess the extent of alliances and rivalries. Within each clan exists a hierarchal social system that governs clan activities and resources. At the top of this hierarchy are the clan elders, who throughout Somalia’s history have served successfully as clan leaders, chosen to enforce traditional Somali customary laws known collectively xeer, which tends to be more compensatory than punitive. Xeer is typically the first recourse in local conflict resolution; it is often enacted to elicit settlement or reconciliation among individuals, businesses and clans; it is applied in almost 80-90% of all dispute and/or criminal cases (2006 figures), and covers everything from marriage issues to property disputes to murder. Interestingly, although Somalis are a highly religious society and will apply Sharia or Islamic law to issues of family and inheritance, when Sharia law conflicts with xeer, the latter seems to almost always take precedence. In addition, religious leaders have never played a direct role in political affairs, which are typically left to clan leaders to deal. Somalis even have a saying that highlights their proclivity for secularism, “One can change his religion; one cannot change the law.”

Post independence, the Italian and British, along with the newly formed central government, tried desperately to eradicate xenophobic tendencies within the population by trying to diminish the importance of clan identity in everyday affairs. Somalis were even asked to refer to each other as ‘comrades’, as opposed to their clan affiliation. Attempts were also made to integrate clan leadership, namely clan elders, into the larger government, but these too failed. Particularly within the South, the Somali government continuously manipulated clan elders, trying to buy their loyalties and consequently, their clan’s support. In addition, in order to increase their influence, politicians and warlords aggravated internal clan conflicts in the South, which led to the splitting of clans into numerous sub-clans; this forced the selection of new clan leaders, who would then pledge their loyalties to the given faction leader. This led many Somalis in the South to view their own elders as corrupt and ultimately threatened to destroy the social fabric there. Manipulating clan politics proved easier in the South than in the North, as the South is much more ethnically diverse. In addition, Northern Somalis were far more politically united than their Southern counterparts, a fact that would later prove most beneficial to establishing political stability and progress in the North with the founding of Somaliland.

The Somaliland System

Northern Somalis had always viewed the post-independence political integration process with deep skepticism. Their political system adopted under British rule was vastly different from Italian Somaliland; in addition, integration meant the loss of significant political leverage. Northern Somalis took advantage of the fall of Siad Barre’s regime and the ensuing ‘91-92 Somali Civil War to retreat from the larger political system and form their own independent state. Somaliland, whose formation was the result of grass root based peace conferences, officially declared independent statehood in 1991. Although not formally recognized by the international community, Somaliland functions completely independent of Central (Puntland) and Southern Somalia, with substantial assistance from the United Nations, and its story has thus far been one of success in terms of incorporating traditional clan politics with modern democratic governance. Somaliland operates as a republic with three branches of government: a presidency, a bi-cameral legislature and a judiciary. Its first president was elected in 2003 to a five-year term, and a second presidential election occurred in June 2010 after some delay, the result of which was a new president, elected from the opposition. Somaliland’s legislature is a hybrid of traditional and modern forces, consisting of a Senate and a House of Representatives; the legislature is only part-elected. Its judiciary is only loosely centralized, with the presence of a Supreme Court; most criminal and civil offenses are still dealt with through traditional means that have been somewhat formalized by way of district and regional courts.

What sets Somaliland’s political efforts apart from those made in the South is its locally-based approach. It was the political will of Northern Somalia’s traditional authorities, combined with the Somali National Movement’s (SNM) democratic ambitions that ultimately led to the formation of a functional, centralized government. No more is this reflected than in its bi-cameral legislature. The Senate, or House of Elders, is comprised of clan representatives, as well as numerous intellectuals and other well-respected individuals in Somali society. Its members are more of a consultative authority to the House of Representatives; they provide advisement on a host of political issues and on legislation proposed by the House. The House, which is comprised of elected officials, exercises sole authority to pass legislation and can override any objections made by the Senate. It also has control over all state financial matters, as well as any constitutional changes, and must approve international treaties. The relationship between the two legislative Houses is cooperative, always maintaining a balance between traditional social forces and modern democratic practices and principles. The structure of the two houses allows for such a relationship to continue through the clear delineation of their respective roles and the continued preservation and proliferation of the legislature’s representativeness. The system is ultimately designed to provide clan elders and traditional forces a national governmental role, without politicizing their positions and subsequently opening them up to the type of corruption that ultimately destroyed the South. The elders maintain their chief role as peacekeepers, serving as mediators at the local level to prevent conflict within clans and between clans over resources and minor criminal and civil issues. The link between official government and traditional societal structures maintains even at the regional and district levels, where traditional authorities are officially recognized and work successfully with locally elected officials to perform a vital role in maintaining security, law and order.

Southern Somalia and the ‘Bottom-Up’ Approach

Although the Somaliland government must improve it human and civil rights record, particularly with regards to freedom of speech, assembly and the press, its overall structure has thus far proved successful in overcoming clan-related political challenges, demonstrating the practicality of using a grass-roots approach to establish a government in Southern Somalia. The success of Puntland’s endeavors is also worth noting, as the independent region has also managed to establish its own form of democratic governance, although much more heavily influenced by clan elders and far less developed than its Northern counterpart. Currently in Southern Somalia, there are several forces battling for political control of the country; the most infectious and dangerous of these forces is of course Al Shabaab, comprised mainly of impoverished and uneducated young males, easily manipulated by external forces seeking to exploit political voids to establish a safe base from which to operate a global terrorist campaign. The inconsistent meddling of foreign countries in Somali affairs, coupled with little economic opportunity in Somalia, has facilitated a growing extremist movement in Southern Somalia, which unfortunately has eroded traditional social structures and marginalized clan elders’ overall authority. The restoration of this authority is key to re-building traditional social structures within Southern Somalia that could ultimately serve as the basis for a highly decentralized but functional system of national governance. In order to be successful, the process to achieve such a government would have to emulate processes implemented in the North, in what could be called the ‘bottom-up’ approach.

All attempts at forming a central government for Southern Somalia have thus far centered on a ‘top-down’ approach, but the problem with a ‘top-down’ or ‘schema-driven’ approach in state-building is that it already assumes the end goal and often without the consent of the people. In the case of Southern Somalia, a government (Transitional Federal Government or TFG) was created without the direct participation and approval of the population, and as a result, it has been rejected by a significant portion of the population and is now entirely reliant upon the international community for its continued survival. Although attempts were made initially to make the TFG representative through multiple peace conferences that included the major clans and parties of the South, efforts to maintain the civilian, grass-roots nature of the TFG seemed to subside shortly after its formation, even as political in-fighting threatened its legitimacy. In addition, support of the TFG by the Somali population eroded as support of the TFG by external forces, including the United States (US) and Ethiopia, increased. Somalis began to view the TFG with increasing suspicion, particularly after Ethiopian forces, with support of the US (CIA), deposed the Union of Islamic Courts (UIC). Of course, a major hindrance to the formation of a legitimate, civilian government in Southern Somalia remains the existence and power of the warlords and clan militias, whose interests have also obstructed attempts at reconciliation. However, the main problem is that the TFG now functions almost completely within a tiny isolated bubble, and not just because its control is limited to a small area of the country, but because it lacks a significant political and social connection to the larger population.

Constant fighting between TFG members and their respective clans demonstrates the lack of unity within the current regime and the need for a considerable change in strategy. What is needed is a major overhaul of government that includes a massive effort to re-establish clan elder authority over extremist leadership, peacefully disarm and disband extremist groups and promote inter-clan (and sub-clan) dialogue and cooperation. Realistically, the TFG is not now, nor has ever been, a functioning government, and its ongoing attempts to govern in this impossible environment have proved futile. Instead of pathetically trying to hold onto an already irrelevant government, TFG members should shift their role from ‘politician’ to ‘mediator’, and implement widespread and inclusive negotiations throughout the South, with the ultimate goal of developing more localized governmental infrastructure. Somalis should implement a ‘bottom-up’ approach through the organization of extensive peace conferences at the sub-clan, clan, district and regional level and work towards returning primary authority to traditional clan elders, while simultaneously negotiating the disarmament of violent extremist groups. To retain legitimacy, these efforts must be perceived by the population as being entirely indigenous, so the international community must take only an auxiliary role. In addition, political progress cannot be made without a corresponding increase in economic opportunity, especially for Somalia’s youth, whose idleness has been easily exploited by fundamentalist groups.

There must be unity amongst the various clans, sub-clans and other factions over how Southern Somalis will be governed. Achieving consensus is no easy task, but a grass-roots approach, modeled after Somaliland’s system, may be the only way to stymie growing extremist elements, rebuild trust between clans and sub-clans and counter the politicization that has plagued the TFG. Although a grass-root, clan-based political system is not ideal, especially for those seeking real democratic reform, it is a practical and ultimately necessary first step towards achieving stable governance in Southern Somalia and preventing the further spread of extremism there. Somalis have a unique traditional system of social governance that is rooted in religion but not dominated by it; the international community must recognize the utility of empowering this system. In addition, it must also lend greater political and logistical support to Somaliland and Puntland authorities, as their continued success is instrumental to achieving stability in all of Somalia.

On August 27, 2010, as Kenya celebrated the passing of its new constitution with a grand ceremony in Nairobi, the world watched in shock and revulsion as standing there on stage alongside the Kenyan President and his entourage was international fugitive and newly ‘re-elected’ President of Sudan, Omar al-Bashir. Bashir, who is wanted by the International Criminal Court (ICC) for war crimes, was apparently there under personal invitation of President Mwai Kibaki. The international community responded with outrage at the invitation, which rather ironically seemed only to undermine the adoption of a new constitution meant to advance human and civil rights in Kenya. Kenya’s refusal to arrest Bashir, a man accused of facilitating the murder of hundreds of thousands, has immense implications for the ICC and its ability to seek justice in Africa for African victims. With Kenyan leaders facing possible charges themselves for their involvement in the 2007-08 post-election violence, the move implies a deeper collusion amongst Africa’s accused: recognition that unity could perhaps provide protection, a sort of political reciprocity, in the future if needed. And Kenya is not alone in its challenge to the ICC, for it was a recent decision by the African Union (AU)—which instructed AU members not to arrest Bashir—that provided the mandate for AU members to defy ICC authority and ultimately set a dangerous precedent for future ICC cases and the pursuit of justice in Africa.

The ICC came into existence in 2002 after the international community recognized the need for a legitimate and independent outlet for trying individuals accused of the most horrific of crimes and whose victims have no other means of seeking justice. Thus far, it has launched investigations in Northern Uganda, the Democratic Republic of Congo, the Central African Republic, Darfur (Sudan) and most recently Kenya—the cases of Rwanda (ICTR) and the former Yugoslavia (ICTY) are being tried in special tribunals, as the ICC cannot prosecute crimes committed prior to its formation in 2002. The ICC’s issuance of a warrant for Sudanese President Omar al-Bashir in March 2009 was the first time the Court had issued a warrant for a sitting head of state, and it came at a time of marked political strife. Because the Sudanese government’s cooperation was needed to achieve political stability in the region, particularly with the upcoming referendum on Southern Sudanese independence, many argued that the warrant’s issuance would threaten an already fragile peace process in Sudan. Thus spawned the larger debate between the importance of achieving peace and obtaining justice. Arguably, the two concepts should be inseparable; the resolution of conflict requires that both parties feel as though major injustices have been addressed. However, the case of Sudan unfortunately pitted the two normally concurrent forces against one another, and subsequently placed all parties involved in a rather precarious position.

Although the issuance of the warrant for Bashir was an independent decision made by the ICC as a result of its Darfur investigation, its political implications are considerable, and thus, it was met with swift resistance from the Sudanese government. The warrant resulted in a serious loss of political credibility for Bashir, who was now an international fugitive. Although the regional peace process was ongoing and Bashir’s support was needed, Bashir’s travel was now restricted; he now risked arrest if he traveled outside of Sudan. ICC member states are obligated under the Rome Statute to arrest individuals charged by the court. If any member were to refuse, it would face immeasurable political embarrassment, international condemnation and possible referral to the UN Security Council. Realizing the implications of the warrant, Sudanese officials immediately responded with thinly veiled and irresponsible threats against UN peacekeepers and humanitarian workers operating inside the country, claiming Sudan could not be held responsible if anything were to happen to the workers. In addition, Sudanese officials outright denied the legitimacy of the ICC’s claims, and denounced the ICC’s decision to issue the warrant as purely political. In fact, prior to the warrant’s issuance, Sudan had been offered a deal by France that in exchange for handing over fugitive Ahmad Harun, who is Sudan’s State Minister of Humanitarian Affairs and who the ICC issued for in 2007, the ICC would defer its investigation of Bashir.

Although Sudan’s failure to prosecute Harun nationally or hand him over to the ICC is reproachful, the existence of such a deal by the French only worked to undermine the ICC’s legitimacy. Unfortunately, by demonstrating that it had the power to intervene in court matters, France opened the ICC up to future accusations of political bias and misuse of authority. Of course, the court itself, particularly Chief Prosecutor Luis Moreno-Ocampo, was not free from criticism with regards to the Bashir case. Ocampo’s public declaration that he was seeking an indictment for the Sudanese leader created space for political wrangling on both ends. Because it would take months before ICC judges could make a decision on the indictment, this left a significant window for some states to levy threats against Bashir’s government and ultimately try to use the possible indictment as political leverage. It also allowed Bashir time to rally the support of his people by proclaiming his indictment an insult to all Sudanese, and to garner the backing of the AU by convincing other African leaders that they too could be subject to an ICC indictment as well. In essence, many were left to wonder whether the move wasn’t entirely contrived, particularly since it was the first time an indictment was made public. However, the decision to seek indictment of Bashir and the court’s issuance of the warrant are undeniably the product of evidence collected as a result of the ICC’s investigation in Darfur. In addition, perhaps the very fact that the ICC moved forward with the case proves its impartiality. For even with the foreknowledge that such a decision would have major consequences and perhaps present the greatest challenge to the international pursuit of justice as of yet, the ICC did exactly what should be expected of it: its job.

Calls for the ICC to suspend its investigation and warrant of Bashir by both the African Union (AU) and the Arab League, due to concerns that the warrant would disrupt the peace process, seemed unwarranted after only a few months, as the uproar surrounding the warrant actually did the opposite: it reinvigorated the stagnated peace process. If anything, the existence of the warrant placed significantly more pressure on all parties, including Bashir, to execute the peace agreement, and although violence continues in parts of the South and Darfur, significant progress has been made with regards to achieving peace. Rather ironically, this progress, coupled with a victory in the recent presidential election, has emboldened Bashir and unfortunately enhanced his position, decreasing the likelihood of his arrest. For instance, just this past July, Bashir traveled to Chad, an ICC member, for an international summit. Chad refused to arrest the leader and instead presented him with a key to city upon his arrival in N’Djamena: a move that once again shocked much of the globe. Bashir was apparently reaping the benefits of increased cooperation with Chad in ending regional hostilities (Chad and Sudan had signed a new accord in which both sides agreed to stop supporting rebel groups). So although pressure surrounding the Bashir warrant forced African leaders and the larger international community to intensify peace efforts, it also allowed Bashir to use his political leverage to garner protection from former rivals. Bashir told reporters, “Chad and Sudan had a problem in the past. Now this problem is solved. We are brothers.” Bashir’s trip to Chad marked a dangerous turn in policy for ICC member states and was soon followed by an even more audacious decision by the AU, which instructed its members to not arrest Bashir.

The AU’s criticism of the ICC warrant against Bashir only increased after charges of genocide were added earlier this year, and at an AU summit in Kampala in July, African leaders decided to make AU non-cooperation with the ICC official by passing a resolution, stating that the AU would not arrest Bashir and even more troubling, urging AU members to balance their obligations to the ICC with their obligations to the AU. The resolution was reached only after major debate amongst African leaders; some of which have still vowed to arrest Bashir if he were to attempt entry into their countries. Other AU leaders advocated for a stronger response to the ICC; some even claimed that the ICC was biased and that it purposefully targeted only African leaders. However, such statements denied the fact that the majority of the ICC’s cases in Africa were referred to the ICC by African nations and that some of the most heinous crimes against humanity have been committed by Africans against other Africans. Not to mention that the main goal of prosecuting such cases is to attain justice for African victims, whose tragedies seem to have been forgotten by the AU.

The AU’s resolution constitutes a serious challenge to the ICC. By instructing its members not to arrest Bashir, the AU has set a dangerous precedent that is likely to affect future attempts to prosecute not only African leaders, but any individual around the world who commits war crimes. In the case of Kenya, it is anticipated that sitting politicians will be indicted for their role in orchestrating the 2007-08 post-election violence, leading some to wonder whether Kibaki’s invitation to Bashir wasn’t somehow symbolic of his support for his accused cronies. It is not quite clear whether other AU member states will seek to intervene in the ICC’s case in Kenya, as the circumstances are markedly different from that of Sudan. Regardless, this challenge to the ICC and to the greater pursuit of justice will inevitably have consequences that are far-reaching. Ideally, justice should never be side-swept or delayed for political purposes. The argument that the warrant would threaten the peace process, result in more violence and thus create new victims was not without some legitimacy; however, the decision to pursue justice, a key ingredient to peace, can never be negotiable. It boils down to a very basic ethical obligation for the court: it cannot ignore evidence uncovered as a result of an investigation. In this case, it would be entirely immoral, not just for the ICC, but for all parties involved, to merely overlook such serious charges. Ironically, peace will never truly be achieved in Sudan unless these charges are answered. The hope is that the AU’s disregard of the court’s warrant will not jeopardize the ICC’s ability to speak on behalf of the voiceless; however, if the AU does not take immediate steps to rectify the situation, it will only destroy the progress that has taken decades to achieve in bringing the guiltiest to justice.

References

• Ashine, Argaw. “Sudan: AU Warns Over Bashir Warrant,” The Daily Nation (Ethiopia), 19 July 2010.
• Childress, Sarah. “Sudan’s President Stirs Rift in Kenya,” Wall Street Journal, 28 August 2010.
• Croft, Adrian. “Bashir Using Tactics to Avoid Arrest (Interview),” Reuters, 29 August 2010.
• Engelbrecht, Gysbert. “The ICC’s Role in Africa,” Institute for Security Studies, African Security Review, Vol. 12, No. 3, 2003.
• Gettleman, Jeffrey. “Sudan Arrests Militia Chief Facing Trial,” The New York Times, 13 October 2008.
• Glassborrow, Katy. “Keeping a Lid on ICC Warrant Requests,” Institute for War and Peace Reporting, ACR Issue 203, 2 March 2009.
• Lough, Richard. “Sudan’s Bashir Attends Kenya Constitution Ceremony,” Reuters, 27 August 2010.
• Stewart, Megan and Yusuf, Hussein. “Strategic Dialogue: Bashir Indictment,” Foreign Policy in Focus, 02 July 2009.
• “African Union Moves Aggressively to Shield Bashir from Prosecution,” Sudan Tribune, 29 July 2010.
• “Bashir Defies Arrest Warrant for War Crimes with Visit to Chad,” France 24, 21 July 2010.
• “Court Worry at Omar al-Bashir’s Kenya Trip,” BBC News, 27 August 2010.
• “ICC: Bashir Warrant a Major Step Toward Justice for Victims in Darfur,” Human Rights Watch, 04 March 2009.
• “ICC: No Warrant Issued for Bashir,” Al Jazeera, 12 February 2009.
• “Darfur Warrant for Sudan’s Bashir: ICC Adds Genocide,” BBC News, 12 July 2010.
• “France Says Sudan’s Cooperation with ICC a Condition to Defer Bashir Indictment,” Sudan Tribune, 18 September 2008.

Democratic elections have a profound significance that goes beyond the mere act of choosing leaders.  They are used to mark progress, strength, and international standing: much is contingent upon the outcome or implementation of elections, especially in developing countries.  The recent elections in Burundi, for example, were looked to as a sign of progress for this previously war-torn country.  The elections were to serve as a shining symbol of the country’s recovery from civil war and advancement as a democracy.  Such has not been the case, however, as cries of foul play, violence, and boycotts have plagued the election process practically from the start.  Burundi had much to gain from its elections, but without remediation it may stand to lose from them.

The presidential election that took place on June 28 was imbued with a special significance as a result of its being the first presidential vote since the country’s last armed groups laid down its weapons in 2009.  The peace process that ended the country’s bloody twelve-year civil war had seen a transformation as rebel groups became legitimate political parties.  The elections thus served as a first test of a fragile peace: Burundians, and others across the globe, hoped that the former rebel groups that now comprise Burundi’s political sphere could find satisfactory power-sharing through the democratic system as opposed to resorting to violent means.  The incumbent candidate, Pierre Nkurunziza, himself is a representative of one such rebel group-turned political party, while the leading opposition is also composed of former rebels.

Despite the pressure to carry out fair, successful elections, Burundi has seen nothing but contention since votes were cast in May for local council elections.  While incumbent Nkurunziza and his ruling party won 64 percent of the vote, many opposition candidates decried what they saw as a voting process riddled with flaws and corruption.  Detractors lodged many complaints regarding the election process: they claimed that there was a failure to protect ballot secrecy; that poll hours were unfairly irregular; and that there was a lack of day-to-day documentation from the polls.  Election monitoring committees agreed that some of these claims were grounded in the truth; however, European Union observers and others found no proof of fraud.  The opposition nevertheless opted for a boycott of the presidential election in June.  Opposition candidates refused to register for the elections, leaving Nkurunziza as the sole candidate, and voters were urged not to participate in elections.

The May elections also touched off a wave of violence reminiscent of the civil war period.  There were several grenade attacks on Bujumbura, the country’s capital, which caused eight deaths and 50 injuries.  Both President Nkurunziza’s National Council for the Defense of Democracy-Forces for the Defense of Democracy (CNDD-FDD) and opposition parties have been accused of being behind these attacks: CNDD-FDD claims that opposition parties used violence to keep voters away from the polls, while opposition members themselves accuse the dominant party of deliberately setting off grenades in order to blame, and then crack down on, their competition.  Indeed, in the days and weeks following the attacks many opposition members were arrested, while CNDD-FDD-controlled police officers broke up gatherings and harassed media groups.

There have been complaints of violent tactics throughout the electoral process.  Many opposition parties criticize the use of intimidation tactics, especially by youth arms.  Many political parties, including the CNDD-FDD and its competition, include groups of youths that have been used for intimidation and violence.  Youths and former combatants are trained to break up meetings and to harass both civil society and media groups.  The police have also played a role in hindering opposition groups: many CNDD-FDD officers have been known to ignore the violent acts of their party while harshly punishing opposition members for any retaliation or similar behavior.  These moves have been denounced both in Burundi and internationally.

The result of such a troublesome campaign period was a truly troublesome presidential election.  President Nkurunziza was indeed the sole candidate: Burundians were met with the choice of either voting to re-elect their president or having their votes annulled.  Such a choice can hardly inspire confidence among citizens who wish for their votes to count.  77 percent of eligible voters participated in the June 28 election that saw the re-election of President Nkurunziza.  Yet, devoid of a true choice, how many can one expect to participate in future elections?  Already we have seen a drop in voter turnout for the July 23 parliamentary elections, in which only 66% of eligible voters cast their ballots (President Nkurunziza’s party once again dominated, although several small opposition groups that had not boycotted the elections won a handful of seats).  It is true that perhaps this reduced turnout echoes the parliamentary elections’ lack of prestige in comparison to the presidential vote.  One must hope that it is not indicative of future voter apathy.

Some analysts fear that, if these trends continue, Burundi could very well fall into a state of authoritarianism and increased corruption.  Burundi’s constitution states that the government may be comprised of up to 40 percent Tutsis, while Hutus can make up no more than 60 percent.  The Hutu-dominated CNDD-FDD may not be able to meet this ethnicity requirement if opposition parties, including those comprised of Tutsis, continue to boycott government participation.  A long-lasting opposition boycott therefore has the potential to lead to a constitutional crisis when Hutus surpass the 60 percent mark.  Such a crisis period could offer President Nkurunziza the opportunity to solidify the power of CNDD-FDD.  In the absence of opposition, his Hutu-dominated party was already able to capture some of the senate and other government seats reserved for Tutsis: this will give CNDD-FDD control not only over the senate but also over the other branches of Burundi’s government.  This absence of checks and balances of power is worrying, as is the fear that Nkurunziza could become yet another power-grabbing African ruler.

Particularly troubling is the threat of returning warfare.  Violence is often an effect of elections in flourishing democracies, especially when certain groups are dissatisfied with the results.  One can see examples of such violence throughout Africa: it is also worth noting that Burundi’s civil war got underway soon after the country’s 1993 presidential elections, the first multiparty elections to be held following independence in 1962.  Burundi is still awash with small arms, leftovers from this period.  The recent grenade attacks have shown that some Burundians will not hesitate to use violence: there is thus an understandable concern that weapons will be picked up again, and that former rebels will once again turn to violence in the absence of alternatives.  Particularly worrying are the youth groups that have been trained by political parties on both sides of the election conflict.  Impressionable youths have already served as powerful weapons in terms of intimidation; who knows to what extent they will be utilized were violence to break out?

On a broader level, the success or failure of Burundi’s democratic system affects the developing nation’s relations with other, wealthier countries.  This is especially true when considering foreign aid and investments.  More than one half of Burundi’s gross domestic product is derived from foreign aid, while 68% of the population lives under the poverty line.  Needless to say, foreign funds are vital to Burundi’s economy.  Yet the inflow of these funds may be threatened by the country’s uneasy transition to democracy.  The lack of fair elections and the presence of violence may detract future or current investors.  Meanwhile, the implementation of fair elections, and with it a reduction in government corruption, could serve not only to attract more aid but also increase the country’s capacity to efficiently and effectively use that which it already receives. 

Despite the obvious flaws and malpractices committed by both dominant and opposition party members, one must not overlook the positive aspects of Burundi’s political situation.  Many diplomats and civil society groups maintain that Burundi has “true democratic credentials.”  It is true that the country has over 40 political parties, and multiparty politics are said to be “flourishing.”  While it is admittedly difficult to see how these parties are “flourishing” amidst violence and intimidation, at the very least the fact that these parties are able to exist signifies that there is something to be said for Burundi’s multi-party system.  In addition, Burundi’s independent media houses have been praised for their synchronized coverage of election events.  Seeds of hope for Burundian democracy exist, however small they may appear.

While it is too late to remedy Burundi’s 2010 elections, the IIJD avers that positive change can nevertheless be made in the country’s political situation.  Steps can be taken at all levels to ensure fairness, a decrease in violence, and a strengthening of the country’s democratic systems. 

• President Nkurunziza and the dominant CNDD-FDD party must be persuaded to stop using their power to unfairly sway elections. 
• Police forces must be de-politicized: training should be offered to ensure that violence and intimidation is stopped and justly prosecuted, no matter the political leanings of their source. 
• Electoral observation bodies in Africa and elsewhere should monitor the activities of both dominant and opposition parties. 
• These bodies should examine the complaints made by opposition parties concerning election fraud and help remedy those that are grounded in unfair practices. 
• Political parties must reign in their youth wings in order to prevent any future campaign-based violence.

The political situation in Burundi does not exist in a vacuum: any violence or distress resulting from unfair governance is sure to spill into neighboring countries.  It is thus essential that Burundi ameliorates its political situation.  Burundi has the potential to help not only its citizens, but other Africans across the continent.  It has the possibility to serve as a symbol of successful African democracy: while Burundi has a long way to go to reach this goal, it is nevertheless possible through the enactment of just political and institutional reforms.

In 1963, in tandem with achieving independence, Kenya adopted its first national constitution. Formed with the assistance of Kenya’s former colonizers, Kenya’s first constitution was fashioned mostly upon the British system of governance and ultimately centralized government power to serve the needs of a small political elite. Several elements of Kenya’s original constitution were seriously flawed, in particular articles regulating land distribution and use. In addition, subsequent amendments concentrated executive power within the office of the president, which led to the establishment of an imperial presidency and a de jure one-party system. After the 2007 post-election violence, an agreement was made amongst the feuding political parties to revise Kenya’s constitution, specifically to reduce the authoritarian powers of the president, and on August 4, 2010, a strong majority of Kenyans rallied behind a newly proposed constitution, designed to do just that. Over 67 percent of the voting population approved the new constitution, whose implementation is expected to produce a fairer system of governance and finally establish and protect multi-party democracy in Kenya.

Although Kenya’s original constitution was initially designed to promote a part democratic, part socialist government system in which the authority of the three branches of government (executive, legislative and judicial) was clearly delineated, in the decades after its passing, presidential authority grew relentlessly, as each subsequent president sought to tighten his control and increase his influence. Unfortunately, this occurred at the expense of the other branches of government, which instead of serving as a check upon executive power, served only to facilitate its abuse. When Kenya’s constitution was first formed in 1963, executive power was shared amongst two posts: a prime minister and an executive governorship, or governor-general (a British subject acting on behalf of the Queen of England, who still exercised executive powers). In addition, the constitution called for a multi-layered legislative structure in the form of a bicameral parliament. However, in 1964, after Kenya was officially declared an independent state, then Prime Minister Jomo Kenyatta, dissatisfied with a restrictive executive, lobbied parliament to amend the constitution to abolish both the governorship and the post of Prime Minister and replace them with a single presidency. Kenyatta argued that traditional Kenyan society rejected the notion of dual executive authority. He claimed that Kenyans were more apt to support strong centralized leadership, which emulated tribal structure. In addition to requesting a transition to a presidency, Kenyatta also called for the elimination of the Senate. Both requests were accepted by Parliament, which passed an amendment establishing the presidency (and Kenyatta as President) and abolishing the Senate, which left Parliament the sole legislative body.

Another extremely significant event to occur in 1964 was the voluntary dissolution of the Kenya African Democratic Union (KADU) party, the only other major political party in Kenya at the time. The KADU party was the only opposing force to Kenyatta’s Kenya African National Union (KANU) party and to his pursuit of a unitary government; KADU fervently supported a federal system, with a weak central government. The KADU party ultimately feared the dominance of one ethnic group, in particular the Kikuyu, which was one of the largest Kenyan communities (KANU was predominantly comprised of Kikuyu). KADU’s dissolution was largely the result of an aggressive campaign by the President and his cohorts to secure KANU’s political hegemony. After KADU disbanded, former KADU party members, including future Kenyan President Daniel Arap Moi, colluded with the KANU-dominated government, which included future president, Mwai Kibaki, to increase executive power and destroy other vital governmental institutions—a move that everyone involved would make certain to benefit from in the following decades.

After 1964, with Kenyatta at the helm, key players within the Kenyan government, including Moi and Kibaki, conspired against the constitution, and consequently their own people to make major governmental changes that furthered their own political objectives. To further advance executive control, the constitution was amended again; this time to prevent regions from raising their own funds. This guaranteed each region’s dependency upon the central government for resources, and ultimately made each region slave to the central government’s bidding. The same amendment gave the president the power to appoint federal judges without approval from any other governing body. Then in 1966, another constitutional amendment was passed, barring candidates and sitting MPs (Members of Parliament) from legislative office, if they had been jailed for six months or more, regardless of the charge. This heightened fear amongst MPs of being arbitrarily arrested and subsequently losing their position for attempting to challenge the new order. These fears were certainly warranted given the President’s newly established power to detain anyone without charge or trial.

Kenyatta’s creation of a despotic presidency was not without opposition, however. Vice President Jaramogi Oginga Odinga, who was from the Luo ethnic group, resigned from his position in 1966, in protest of the central government’s tyrannical takeover, and formed a new political party, the Kenya’s People Union (KPU). Unfortunately, the KPU struggled tirelessly against the regime to no avail. Odinga was arrested in 1969 after a public physical altercation between himself and Kenyatta and their supporters, which resulted in the deaths of eleven people; KPU was consequently outlawed. After being jailed for two years, Odinga was released only to remain obsolete until Kenyatta’s passing in 1978, at which time he re-entered politics, but again struggled to gain relevancy amidst Kenyatta’s continued autocratic policies. Odinga tried once again to establish another opposition political party in 1982, the National Democratic Party (NPU), but President Moi, along with his Vice President, Mwai Kibaki, immediately acted to prevent this by passing perhaps the most damaging amendment to the constitution as of yet: an amendment that made KANU the only legal political party. Multi-party democracy was now officially dead, and with individuals also prohibited from running as independent candidates, autocratic rule was now too firmly instituted. Odinga’s party had no choice but to disband, and after a failed coup attempt, he was once again arrested. Several years later in 1991, Odinga, along with five other major opposition leaders, created FORD, the Forum for the Restoration of Democracy, a new political party. Moi immediately outlawed the party and had its leaders arrested, but after pressure from the international community (US, UK, and Scandinavian countries), he was forced to release them and to permit FORD to operate. In addition, at a special meeting of KANU soon afterwards, the government agreed to allow a multi-party political system.

Odinga’s struggle is highly significant as it exemplifies the larger story of over thirty years of political repression and the destruction of democratic governance in Kenya. In addition, Odinga’s struggle, which brought about immense achievement in the form of multi-party politics, did not end with his death, but continues through his son, current Kenyan Prime Minister Raila Odinga, perhaps the most popular politician in all of Kenya at the moment. It was his party, the ODM (Orange Democratic Movement) that finally defeated the monster that had become KANU, or now PNU (Party of National Unity), forcing Kibaki to accept a power-sharing agreement whose eventual outcome would be a new constitution and the long-anticipated end of the imperial presidency. After extensive vetting sessions that involved a host of civic groups and organizations, as well as expert advisors and the international community, a new constitution was finally presented to the public for its approval, which it obtained by an overwhelming majority on August 4th.

The primary goal of the new constitution was to drastically reduce the powers of the executive arm of the government. To do this, the new constitution abolishes the post of prime minister (created as part of the 2008 power-sharing agreement) and also significantly reduces the power of the president. The president can now be impeached by Parliament, which will now consist of both a National Assembly and a newly formed Senate, and all major presidential appointments, from the cabinet to the judiciary, must now be approved by Parliament. In addition, the president’s cabinet will be reduced by half to twenty-four members. Also significant, the president can now appoint non-parliament members to cabinet positions, a move meant to reduce corrupt political patronage. Furthermore, the president can no longer suspend or dissolve the National Assembly; its members will be elected to fixed five-year terms. The president will also no longer exercise any control over the country’s Election Commission, which will now be completely independent. To provide stronger checks upon the executive, the new Senate will also have the power to summon cabinet members and senior civil servants for hearings. Also, to lessen the executive’s fiscal control over the country, 47 regional governments, or counties, will now all be guaranteed revenue from the federal government, addressing long-standing inequities between Kenya’s 42 ethnic groups. Fifteen percent of the national budget will now go directly to the counties, to be allocated equitably. Proponents have argued that this is likely to reduce ethnic favoritism and corruption at the federal level. Ethnic groups will no longer have to rely solely upon the election of ‘one of their own’ to obtain desperately needed funds.

The new constitution not only breaks the grip of the executive, but actually places more power directly into the hands of Kenyan citizens. For instance, although the exact procedure for doing so has yet to be laid out, voters will now exercise the right to ‘recall’, or oust their MPs, if dissatisfied with their performance. Perhaps most significant, an impressive Bill of Rights will now formally be enacted along with the constitution. This new Bill of rights includes protection of political, economic and social rights; it also specifically requires the government to address the needs of more vulnerable societal groups, including the elderly, women, persons with disabilities, children and members of marginalized communities. Within the new bill, the following rights are outlined: the right to life (the bill determines the beginning of life to be conception, but does add a clause that permits abortion under certain circumstances); equality and freedom from discrimination; human dignity and security; freedom from slavery; the right to privacy; freedom of belief and religion; freedom of expression and media; and a host of other rights, including protection of property and consumer rights. Although the bill grants the government limited authority to curb certain rights under special circumstances, it is extremely explicit in outlining the requirements and/or justification for any legislation restricting such rights. In addition, it completely prohibits the government from limiting or removing the following rights at any time or under any circumstance: freedom from torture and cruel and degrading punishment; freedom from slavery or servitude; and the right to fair trial and habeas corpus.

One major marginalized group that has long been denied any form of civic participation is the Kenyan Diaspora. Kenyans living abroad, whether they have foreign citizenship or not, have been deprived the opportunity to participate in national elections. Under the original constitution, those who obtained foreign citizenship automatically lost their Kenyan citizenship; dual citizenship was strictly prohibited. In addition, the law restricted Kenyans from voting in national elections if they did not meet specific residency requirements. These restrictions were put in place to essentially emasculate educated and affluent Kenyans living abroad, preventing them from challenging the Kenyan political establishment. Under the new constitution, dual citizenship will now be permitted and residency restrictions have been lifted. With the Kenyan Diaspora already contributing approximately $611 million in remittances to the Kenyan economy annually, it will now also have the opportunity to engage directly in its country’s political process. In fact, Diaspora groups, the US-based Kenyan Community Abroad (KCA) in particular, took an active role in the vetting process of the new constitution, advocating strongly for recognition of their rights as Kenyans. It is hoped that increased political involvement on their part will strengthen the merit of future campaigns and elections.

Finally, the new constitution promises real land reform, which is the primary reason for the ‘No’ campaign’s existence. The ‘No’ campaign, which is the movement against the new constitution,  was initiated and fueled by powerful politicians and wealthy landowners, including former President Moi and current Education Minister William Ruto, who oppose any land reform that may jeopardize their own holdings, often obtained through corrupt or unfair means. Land distribution in Kenya has been an extremely contentious issue since independence, when Kenyan politicians colluded with their former colonizers to ensure that land remained in the hands of affluent settlers and the wealthiest of Kenyans. In the original constitution, the new Kenyan government was afforded the power to distribute land as it pleased, and subsequently proceeded to abuse this power by disproportionately awarding land to politicians and the wealthy—with the worst of this land grab by the country’s elite occurring in the 1980’s (coincidentally under Moi’s rule). The current constitution requires the government to investigate exactly how such large tracts of fertile, public ‘trust’ land ended up in the hands of top politicians. The constitution specifically calls for the creation of a National Land Commission, which will review past public land distribution and sale by the government and recommend the government repossess any tract of public land if deemed to have been obtained corruptly, or deemed to be in the best interest of the people; land will then be redistributed fairly and according to need. For instance, government councils in the areas of Tana River, Kwale and Magarini gave out thousands of acres of land to investors without any regard for the well-being of the local residents; it has already been implied that this land will likely be repossessed by the government. These new constitutional provisions provide for a much needed overhaul of land policy in Kenya, and it is hoped that the government will use these new mechanisms to responsibly correct past injustices.

The momentous passing of a new constitution in Kenya has brought about renewed faith in the political process, but the development and acceptance of a new constitution is just the beginning. The true test of its viability will be the government’s successful implementation of its provisions through the creation of fair and functional legislation. The government must prove that it is capable of upholding the constitution and acting on behalf of its people to protect their interests. For now, however, Kenyans can rejoice in this triumph, for they now have the opportunity to rebuild their government and establish a sustainable democracy. With the next presidential election less than two years away, there is both excitement and apprehension over what the future may hold, but one thing is certain: the blueprint for systemic political change has been successfully laid out, and it will ultimately have great implications for the Kenyan people, transforming their everyday life, hopefully for the better.

On August 10, 2010, shortly after his victory in the presidential election was announced, Rwandan President Paul Kagame ascended a stage in front of thousands of supporters in Kigali, smiling and dancing somewhat wryly in celebration. The unintentional awkwardness of this small gesture seemed to symbolize a larger uneasiness with Kagame’s victory, which is not without serious controversy. This was only the second presidential election to occur in Rwanda since the 1994 genocide during which over 800,000 Tutsis and moderate Hutus were slaughtered by government and Hutu rebel forces. In 2003, Paul Kagame won Rwanda’s presidential election with an overwhelming majority, and since then, he has been praised for his efforts in successfully rebuilding Rwanda after an appalling civil conflict. However, like so many other African leaders who ascend the ranks and achieve the highest level of office, Kagame seems infatuated with power. Although it was basically everyone’s contention that Kagame would be re-elected, it appears the Kagame camp nonetheless reverted to the use of violent and oppressive tactics to completely debilitate any opposition, depriving Rwandans the opportunity for multi-party politics and subsequently progressive democratic reform.

On July 14, 2010, Vice President of the opposition Democratic Green Party, Andre Kagwa Rwisereka, was found brutally murdered just outside the city of Butare, a day after he had been reported missing. Rwisereka had been nearly decapitated and there were bruise marks all over his chest, indicating he had been tortured. Kagame’s government was immediately suspected in Rwisereka’s disappearance and killing. Rwisereka was a longtime member of Kagame’s Rwanda Patriotic Front (RPF), but left the party last year, along with other disaffected RPF members, amidst internal political wrangling. Specifically, Rwisereka decried the party’s archaic ideas and its inability to change, referring to its leadership as a dictatorship. And although some have argued that the departure of RPF members and their subsequent formation of opposition parties are part of a larger scheme by Kagame to give the appearance of political pluralism, Rwisereka’s jailing, torture and eventual disappearance would point to otherwise. Rwisereka was arbitrarily arrested in June, along with a host of other opposition party members, while, rather ironically, protesting the disappearance of other officials. He was held for over a week on charges of ‘unlawful assembly’, during which time, he and others were beaten and verbally abused. The charges were eventually dropped and he was released; however, only weeks later, he too disappeared.

It has been the assertion of many that Rwisereka’s murder was most likely politically motivated. In the weeks leading to his murder, Rwisereka had expressed increasing concern for his safety; he had even been warned by former RPF colleagues that his continued opposition would not be tolerated. Plus, his was the second murder of a Kagame critic; a journalist with independent newspaper Umuvugizi, Jean-Leonard Rugambage, was shot and killed outside his home in Kigali just three weeks before. Rugambage had been a staunch critic of the Kagame regime’s oppressive tactics and had allegedly uncovered evidence of the government’s involvement in the attempted assassination of former Rwandan General Faustin Kayumba Nyamwasa in South Africa. In fact, on the morning of his death, the newspaper had published an article, implicating key government officials in Kayumba’s attempted murder. By 10 pm, Rugumbage was dead. Police had an immediate explanation, as well as two suspects, who, according to police, killed Rugambage because of lingering hatred over his alleged involvement in the killing of a family member during the ’94 genocide. How convenient for the government for the murder to have occurred on the same day of the article’s release and only weeks before the election.

Several months prior to Rugambage’s murder, Umuvugizi and Umuseso, the two top-selling independent newspapers, were ordered by the government to suspend operations for six months. The government’s reason for shutting down the newspapers was that they had violated Article 83 of Rwanda’s Media Law, which prohibits media outlets from fabricating information or publishing material that may be ‘provocative’. Since the end of the genocide, the Rwandan government, as well as sectors of Rwandan civil society, has struggled to maintain peace and stability, always wary of the potential for a reemergence of ethnic violence. However, the same mechanisms that have been implemented to prevent such an occurrence have also been used by the government to restrict basic civil rights, including freedoms of speech and expression, as is alleged in the suspension of the two newspapers. Both newspapers had been extremely critical of President Kagame and his administration, and Kagame had announced previously that he would close the critical papers ‘either in good faith or by force’. He had even threatened those critical of him to either leave Rwanda or face being ‘shut down’. Kagame’s government received widespread criticism for suspending the two newspapers, including condemnation from well-respected Reporters without Borders and The Committee to Protect Journalists; however, his government’s onslaught against critical, independent media continued unabated.

So what qualifies as ‘provocative’ language in Rwanda? Both newspapers had been accused of publishing highly opinionated articles that threatened the stability of Rwandan society. However, although material printed in the papers was highly critical of the Kagame government and had called upon political forces to challenge the current regime, neither paper had attempted to manipulate ethnic sensitivities to incite violence, which is what post-genocidal media laws were created to specifically protect against. The government’s actions have led subsequently to accusations that it is using ‘genocidal ideology’ or ‘ethnic divisionism’ to impede the opposition and secure its power, or in other words, the government is manipulating the memory of genocide for its own political gains. The case of the Union of Democratic Forces (FDU-Inkigi) Party Chair, Victoire Ingabire Umuhoza, directly illustrates this point. Ingabire is an outspoken ethnic Hutu who had plans to run for the presidency. However, although her party has made multiple attempts, it remains one of several opposition parties (which includes Rwisereka’s party, the Democratic Green Party) that has not been allowed to register. In addition, Ingabire currently remains under house arrest, after being charged by the government with ‘genocidal ideology’ and ‘spreading ethnic dissent.’ The government is referring to public statements Ingabire made highlighting a simultaneous genocide against Hutus and the RPF’s involvement in the killings of Hutus during and in the years following the genocide. The government has also charged Ingabire with allegedly cooperating with the Hutu rebel group, the Democratic Forces for the Liberation of Rwanda (FDLR).

Although Ingabire’s statements and accusations are certainly provocative and do bring the focus back onto aspects of the genocide, they are not unsubstantiated. Regardless, the level of intimidation and harassment she has suffered throughout her political campaign is troubling. It’s been more than 15 years since the genocide and yet balanced public discourse on the subject is repeatedly repudiated, most recently to the benefit of the Kagame government. The regime has continuously invoked national security and the 1994 genocide to silence dissidence. Numerous government critics and opposition leaders have either been threatened or otherwise intimidated and have had to flee as a result. Many opposition leaders have been imprisoned, including presidential candidate for the Parti Social Imberakuri, Bernard Ntaganda, who was arrested on arbitrary charges of ‘ethnic divisionism’ and currently remains in custody pending prosecution. Ntaganda was arrested the same day that opposition parties were to hold a protest against the National Election Commission. Over 30 protesters, including Rwisereka, were arrested either on their way to the protest or at the protest location. Police officials actually claimed, rather laughably, that their intent was not to break up the protest and that the arrests were ‘coincidental’.

By the time of the election, there were only three challengers to Kagame’s campaign. All three were dismissed as being Kagame puppets, placed into the election race by the government to provide a mere facade of multi-party politics. Two of the candidates were members of Kagame’s coalition government, who supported him during his 2003 campaign, and all three candidates vowed to continue their support of the Kagame government after the election. The three candidates were as follows: Vice-President of the Chamber of Deputies and former Minister of Health Jean Damascene Ntawukuriryayo, of the Social Democratic Party; Vice-President of the Senate and former Minister of Commerce Prosper Higiro of the Liberal Party and Senator Alvera Mukabaramba of the Party for Progress and Concord. The candidates’ campaigns were rather uninspiring, and not a one of them presented any real challenge to Kagame. In fact, Ntawukuriryayo even stated after his candidacy was ‘approved’ that his “campaign [would] not inconvenience any of the other candidates,” and shortly after Kagame’s victory was announced, he gracefully conceded defeat with a statement that could only be described as finely scripted. Ntawukuriryayo stated in a rather contrived manner, “Elections were peaceful and transparent, so I would accept whatever comes out of these elections.” Such a statement ignores the terrible events leading up to the actual election and the repressive political environment in which real opposition candidates and the media were forced to operate. Even during the elections, Amnesty International reported that some villagers admitted to being forced to vote as early as 3am, although polls were supposed to open at 6am. Others described how their voting cards were forcibly taken from them by local authorities and then returned later with a ‘Voted’ stamp on them. There were also reports of arrests of individuals who had voted for opposition candidates. These incidents would of course help to explain how Kagame won an outstanding 93 percent of the vote.

Rwanda’s history necessitates a certain level of sensitivity when dealing with political matters; however, the current government should not be permitted to exploit this sensitivity to its advantage. If Rwanda is to heal and move forward with achieving sustainable democracy, the Kagame regime must not hinder basic freedoms and rights under the guise of protecting national security. Although Kagame has claimed numerous times that recent attacks and arrests against opposition leaders and journalists are not politically motivated, it would be ridiculous to believe otherwise. Rwandans must be given a real opportunity to choose how and by whom they want to be represented. The current environment does not allow for this. The concept of ‘free and fair’ during times of political elections means unrestricted access to information, the right to freely campaign and inform and the right to participate in the process at all levels for those vying for political positions. The Kagame government must put its own political interests aside for the good of the entire nation. It is nothing less than immoral to allow narrow, short-term personal power gains to supersede the importance of instilling and preserving larger democratic ideals and freedoms.

Although the election is over and Kagame has won as expected, uncertainty regarding the future of the Rwandan political process is prevalent. The recent election confirmed Kagame’s popularity, but it also revealed the extent of his tyranny, as well as the RPF’s hold upon Rwanda. Rwandans will now have to wait seven years until the next presidential election, and although this is a long period to wait, it will also bring with it the opportunity for increased political dialogue and accountability and the development of a true multi-party political system. It is imperative that in the next few years, Rwandan civil society and the Kagame government work cooperatively to develop and protect basic democratic rights and freedoms. If progress is not made on this front, the Rwandan government may very well transform into a full-blown dictatorship, with RPF, or even Kagame, at the dynastic helm.

References

1. Butty, James, “Rwandan Editor Says Suspension of Paper Politically Motivated,” VOANews.com, 15 April 2010.
2. Clark, Matthew, “Rwanda Election: Calls Mount for Independent Autopsy of Slain Opposition Leader,” Christian Science Monitor, 21 July 2010.
3. Delany, Max and Associated Press. “Rwandan President Kagame Wins Re-election,” Time Magazine, 10 August 2010.
4. Garrison, Ann, “Kagame Arrests Rwandan Presidential Candidate Bernard Ntaganda,” Digital Journal Reporter, 24 June 2010.
5. Gettleman, Jeffrey, “Presidential Candidate is Arrested in Rwanda,” NY Times, 21 April 2010.
6. Kamara, Ahmed M. “Paul Kagame Orders Arrest of another Journalist in Rwanda,” Newtime Africa, 11 July 2010.
7. Kezio-Musoke, David. “Rwanda’s Deputy Speaker to Face Kagame in August Election,” Africa Review, 23 May 2010.
8. Kwizera, Charles, “Umuseso, Umuvugizi, Suspended,” The New Times at AllAfrica.com, 17 July 2010.
9. Kwizera, Charles, “Dr. Ntawukuriryayo Congratulates Kagame,” The New Times, 11 August 2010.
10. Lederer, Edith, “Rwanda Minister Denies Government Role in Attacks,” Associated Press, 20 July 2010.
11. McConnell, Tristan. “Rwanda: Kagame Gets Tough,” The Global Post, 06 August 2010.
12. Mgbako, Chi, “Gov’t Manipulates Genocide Memory,” AllAfrica.com, 21 July 2010.
13. Muheto, Felix, “Attempt Victoire Ingabire Umuhoza to Rally Genocide Convicts as Cadres of ‘Her Revolution’,” The New Times, 22 January 2010. 
14. Rice, Xan, “Rwandan Opposition Leader Found Dead,” The Guardian, 14 July 2010.
15. Rosen, Jon. “Rwanda: Two Sides to Paul Kagame,” The Global Post, 30 July 2010.
16. “Paul Kagame: Rwandans Free to Decide at Election,” BBC News, 20 July 2010.
17. “Rwanda: Call for Independent Autopsy of Murdered Critic,” BBC News, 21 July 2010.
18. “Rwanda’s Kagame Vows Free Polls,” Al Jazeera, 20 July 2010.
19. “Rwanda: First Day of Political Campaign Opens with Funeral,” Afronline, 21 July 2010.
20. “Rwanda Vice President Opposition Found Dead,” Radio Netherlands, 14 July 2010.
21. “Opposition Critic Arrested Over Ethnicity, Assassination Charges- Police,” Rwanda News Agency, 24 June 2010.
22. “Rwanda: Allow Independent Autopsy of Opposition Politicians,” Human Rights Watch, 21 July 2010.
23. “Rwanda: Stop Attacks on Journalists, Opponents,” Human Rights Watch, 26 June 2010.
24. “Rwanda Assassins Kill Reporter Jean Leonard Rugumbage,” BBC News, 25 June 2010.
25. “Rwanda: Rugambage Murder Suspects Denied Bail,” The News Times, 17 July 2010.
26. “Rwanda: Heated Exchanges as Canada Backs Umuseso, Umuvugizi,” RwandaInfo-Eng, Date Retrieved: 23 June 2010. Available Online at http://rwandinfo.com/eng/rwanda-heated-exchanges-as-canada-backs-umuseso-umuvugizi/
    “Rwanda Arrests US Lawyer Erlender for Genocidal Denial,” BBC News, 28 May 2010.
27. “Rwandan Opposition Leader Bernard Ntaganda Still Detained Without Charge,” RwandaInfo_Eng, Retrieved 23 July 2010.
28. “Rwanda’s Kagame Vows Free Polls,” Al Jazeera, 20 July 2010.
29. “Paul Kagame Favourite to Win Rwanda’s Presidential Election,” Telegraph.co.uk, 09 August 2010.
30. “Call for International Inquiry into the Assassination of Mr. Andre Kagwa Rwisereka, the First Vice-President of the Democratic Green Party of Rwanda,” Permanent Consultative Council of Opposition Parties in Rwanda, Press Release, 15 July 2010.
31. “FDU Reports Irregularities in Rwandan Election,” United Democratic Forces of Rwanda, Rwandinfo_Eng, 09 August 2010.

Though President Paul Kagame has been widely praised in the international community for bringing economic reforms and even received a global citizen award from U.S. President Bill Clinton for his commendable leadership in public service [1], the government and the ruling Tutsi-dominated Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF) have steadily tightened their control of the media and any form of opposition as the presidential elections on August 9th approaches. This will be only the second presidential election to occur since the 1994 genocide when more than 800,000 Tutsis and moderate Hutus were killed.  The  number of threats and attacks on opposing party members and journalists have been steadily increasing with the persecution of dissenting journalists and the arrest of two presidential candidates, both under the charges of promoting ethnic divisionism and genocide ideology, accusations that several international human rights groups have found concerning.  As Human Rights Watch’s Africa director Rona Peligal points out, ‘These incidents are occurring at the very moment that parties are putting forward candidates for the presidential elections…The government is ensuring that opposition parties are  unable to function and are excluded from the political process” [2]. 

President Kagame argues that censorship and tight control of the media is necessary to avoid a return to the circumstances that led to the 1994 genocide.  The message he is trying to relay is one of unity and that they are all Rwandans over individual ethnic identities, but as many Rwandans have observed, simply ignoring or suppressing any dialog about ethnic divisions has not worked to resolve Hutu-Tutsi relations [3]. 

The Republic of Rwanda consists almost entirely of the majority Hutu and minority Tutsi ethnic groups.  These two groups have been entwined in a vicious cycle of violence and power-grabbing since Rwanda was a German and then Belgian colony.  Though social hierarchies and conflict existed between the agrarian Hutus and cattle-herding Tutsis before colonization, German and Belgium colonists perpetuated and exacerbated ethnic divisions by giving Tutsi power over Hutus by instating oppressive laws against Hutus.  This created a violent backlash against the Tutsis once Belgians relinquished their power, and the beginning of the perpetual acts of violence that both Rwanda and Burundi have experienced leading up to the 1994 genocide, which culminated in the Tutsi-led RPF taking control of the government and eventually restoring order.  Tutsis have since dominated government positions even though 85% of Rwandans identify as Hutus and only 15% identify as Tutsi [4]. 

A study of post-genocide Rwanda has found that the political space for debate in Rwanda is closing down through the use of legislation, threats, and intimidation.  The RPF’s concept of civil society is “an extension of, rather than a counterbalance to, the state,” which leaves no room for any type of debate or dissent.  Legislation that particularly limited the powers of opposing political parties was Article 52 of the 2003 Constitution, which prevented political organizations from conducting grassroots campaigns for elections by limiting their offices to “national, provincial and Kigali City levels” [5].  Though this ban on grassroots campaigning was amended in 2007, the RPF still retains a considerable advantage as other parties lack its comparable personnel and funds [6]. 

Two current laws that enable the government considerable freedom to eliminate any opposition are Law 47/2001of 18/12/2001 relating to discrimination and sectarianism [7] and the Law Regulating the Punishment of Genocide Ideology [8]. These laws are defined quite broadly and with such ambiguity as to what qualifies as divisionism or genocide ideology that they make it easy for the government to use them to suppress legitimate free speech and expression.  Opposition parties are often persecuted under this law as the government often interprets criticisms of their regime as threats to national security and stability [6]. 

On top of the arrests of two presidential candidates under the charge of genocide ideology, party members from all three of the major opposition parties (United Democratic Forces (FDU) -Inkingi, Socialist Party (PS) -Imberakuri, and the Democratic Green Party) have experienced harassments, assaults, and threats from both unidentified assailants and people believed to be directly linked to government or RPF institutions. 

As reported by Human Rights Watch, on February 3rd, Victoire Ingabire, the leader of the FDU-Inkingi and her party colleague Joseph Ntawangundi were attacked by a group of people in front of a government office accusing them of being génocidaires, or people involved in the genocide.  Ingabire was able to get away, but Ntawangundi was severely beaten.  Although the government and police authorities claim the attack was wrought by people waiting in line for identity documents who were angered when Ingabire and Ntawangundi cut the line, Ingabire and Ntawangundi say the attack was carefully planned [9].  Ingabire has called for the postponement of the presidential elections, citing “the rising tension, nervousness, repression and the shrinking of the political space” in Rwanda until the ruling RPF party can been contested on a more level playing field.

 Ingabire is currently under house arrest, facing charges of promoting genocide ideology, based on to her public demand that crimes committed by the RPF and Rwandan army against Hutus during and after the 1994 genocide should be better investigated [10].  Even Ingabire’s American lawyer, Peter Erlinder was imprisoned this June after flying to Rwanda to represent her.   He has published articles that they considered genocide ideology that argue that the number of Hutus that were killed has not been properly recognized and the Hutu death toll might have even exceeded the number of Tutsis killed in the conflict.  He was freed for medical reasons but he reportedly feared for his life while in prison and believed the “government wanted to make him disappear”.  Erlinder worked as a defense lawyer with the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda based in Tanzania, which prosecutes those accused of participating in the genocide [10]. 

Bernard Ntaganda, the leader of the PS-Imberakuri party, was also arrested and taken in for questioning.  As quoted by Reuters, a police spokesman said the charges include “divisionism based on ethnicity, gathering people without permission, creating groups of people that are suspected of being criminals and attempted murder.”  Ntaganda has been suspected of being involved in an attempted assassination of former party vice-president Christine Mukabunani on top of stirring ethnic divisions [11].

Finally, Frank Habineza,leader of Democratic Green Party, reported to Human Rights Watch that he was approached by an unidentified man who warned him saying, “We’re monitoring you very closely. Be careful.”  The man’s comments alluded to his ties with the RPF and the government [9].  The Democratic Green Party could be a formidable opponent considering its major support base is the same as Mr. Kagame’s, consisting of previously exiled Tutsis, many of who hold many high-ranking positions in the government.  The PS-Imberakuri and FDU-Inkingi parites are supported by the majority Hutu ethnic group [3]. 

Opposition parties are not the only groups affected by the recent narrowing of political space and press freedom as presidential elections near.  Several prominent journalists have been killed or exiled and two independent papers have been shut down. 

Jean-Bosco Gasasira, the former editor of the independent newspaper Umuvugizi, fled Rwanda in April 2010, leaving John Leonard Rugambage as editor.  Gasasira was assaulted in February 2007 by armed assailants following the publication of articles critical of the RPF in addition to receiving threats that finally led him to self-exile.  The Rwandan High Media Council recently suspended Umuvugizi and another private newspaper called Umuseso, for six months before then ordering them to be completely shut down, calling them threats to national security [12]. 

On June 24th, Rugambage was shot and killed outside his home in Kigali by a man who approached and fired several shots at Rugambage as he was driving up to his gate.   Umuvugizi had posted an article online that day that linked the shooting of former Rwandan general Kayumba Nyamwasa to Rwandan intelligence officials.  Umuvugizi’s website is now blocked inside Rwanda [13, 14].  Nyamwasa was shot and killed while in exile in South Africa.  He was once allies with Kagame, but reportedly Nyamwasa was increasingly seen as a political rival.  He was suspected by the Rwandan government of being behind three grenade attacks in Kigali February 19th [15]. 

The closing of and the limitations imposed on these two prominent independent newspapers is yet another example of how disappearances and self-imposed exiles perpetuates the government’s tactic that allows only pro-government opinions to be disseminated, creating a climate of fear, deterring any individuals from speaking up against the government. 

Although the minister of Foreign Affairs and government spokeswomen Louise Mushikiwabo has denied that the government has had any hand in the killing of Rugambage and that the multiple arrests of opposing party members by the government were carried out to enforce Rwanda’s laws against genocide denial [10], the IIJD calls upon Rwanda’s government stop the rising acts of violence and arrests of opposing media and political voices.  Whether or not the government or RPF members were directly involved in these incidents, President Kagame’s government should feel obligated to investigate these harassments and murders and protect the rights and well-being of its citizens.

The IIJD supports Human Rights Watch’s call for a full investigation into the persecutions endured by opposing political parties as well as Amnesty International’s request to Rwanda’s government to “respect the rights to freedom of association and freedom of expression and ensure that journalists can work freely, independently and with protection from state authorities” [12].  Allowing political space for debate and freedom of press should not be confused with instigating ethnic divisions or genocide ideology.  The only way to continue the peace and economic prosperity that President Kagame and his government have maintained for the past ten years is to keep Rwanda’s institutional framework strong and assure that elections are truly democratic by allowing anyone to run without the fear of persecution.  This involves amending their laws about genocide ideology to be more specific to reduce its abuse so that any candidate can participate in the election and voice their opinions freely.  If the current government continues to suppress free speech and narrow the political space, they risk refueling the type of resentment that led to the genocides and civil wars of Rwanda’s past. 

Rwanda fell to 157th place out of 175 worldwide in Reporters Without Border’s 2009 Press Freedom Index (Rwanda was 147th in 2008, 145th in 2007, and 129th in 2006) [16].

“If you feel MPs are being paid heftily, join parliament. [And if you are in Parliament], if you feel you have enough, give a chance to your colleagues,” so says Assistant Minister Aden Duale, who staunchly defended the Kenyan Parliament’s recent passing of an 18 percent MP (Member of Parliament) salary increase, which would make Kenya’s MPs the highest paid lawmakers in the world. In fact, if the salary increase gains the approval of the Cabinet, as well as the President, and is subsequently implemented, the Kenyan Prime Minister will make more annually than the President of the United States. The MPs were quick to defend the pay raises, arguing that current salaries could not compensate for the heavy responsibility they shoulder in their struggle to politically and economically develop Kenya. MP Boni Khalwale rather audaciously characterized the salary raise as “a move towards restoring honor to the profession of politics,” leading many to suspect that he had perhaps confused the word ‘greed’ with the word ‘honor’. Fortunately, most Kenyans are not convinced, and upon hearing of the salary increase, scores took to the streets in early July to convey their outrage over the vote. Since most of the population earns less than $1 per day, it is easy to understand the widespread anger towards this decision, as Kenyan MPs will now make (but certainly not earn) upwards of $128,000 per year. What makes the decision even more appalling is the record of Kenya’s MPs, deemed by the World Bank as comprising one of the most corrupt parliaments in the world; not to mention the fact that sitting Ministers are likely to face charges of crimes against humanity for their role in the 2007 post-election violence.

The MPs’ plan to in essence rob the country’s coffers actually began several years ago. In 2003, when a new Parliament came to power in Kenya, its first order of business after the election was, not to produce legislation that would improve the lives of Kenya’s poor or help Kenya’s emerging middle class businesses, but to quadruple the salary of its MPs, well beyond the base inflation rate. Unlike most other countries, in which independent committees determine MP salaries, in Kenya, MPs have the power to set their own salary. There’s essentially no oversight, leaving MPs free to abuse that power as they please. The 2003 salary raise was interpreted by many as an attempt by the MPs to refill their spent election funds. Public outcry against the move was widespread, as many rightfully criticized the increase as contemptible. How could MPs raise their salaries to such amounts when half of Kenya’s population was struggling to make a basic living? Despite the utter depravity of the move, the salary increase went ahead, with the approval of then new President Mwai Kibaki (who by the way also approved the doubling of his own salary to about $312,000/yr). It was quickly followed by even more avarice, in the form of additional votes to ensure low interest home and car loans, as well as generous healthcare and retirement packages for the MPs.

Then in 2006, while millions of Kenyans lost their livelihoods to severe drought and were subsequently struggling to feed themselves, the MPs, to the utter disbelief of their constituents and the rest of the world, once again voted to raise their salaries. The pay increase involved a near doubling of MPs’ travel allowance. MPs would now get another $5,000 monthly to cover travel to their constituencies. And that was just for the first 350km of travel; they would obtain another $1.60 for every additional km traveled. To ensure they received the new allowances, MPs held the annual budget hostage. They refused to approve the budget unless their demands for more money were met. The move was nothing less than immoral, as their refusal to approve the budget meant that over $3.5 million in aid to people facing food shortages would be delayed. Even more disturbing is that the additional money spent to accommodate the pay raise, which amounts to almost $3 million in total annually, could have significantly helped those affected by the drought. In defense of the increase, MPs decried the difficulties of traveling to their constituencies, complaining specifically that the deteriorating roads were damaging their luxury vehicles. So once again the question was posed by many, how could MPs complain about having to replace the tires of their Mercedes and Land rovers, when thousands of people, even their own constituents, were starving? Were the MPs’ tires more important than Kenyan lives?

In response to the MPs’ self-serving reasoning, the public exclaimed rather simply, ‘Fix the roads!’ Seemed like the most logical solution. Instead of using the $3 million to pay for the possibility that some vehicles may need repair, the government should put the money towards repairing the roads, so that all Kenyans could benefit. After all, wasn’t it the MPs’ job to serve Kenyans, not the other way around? How much more did Kenyans have to pay before the MPs started doing their job? Although the public failed to prevent the MPs from increasing their salary, outrage over the President’s salary raise forced Kibaki, whose family wealth is already immense, to refuse his own increase. Under the proposed presidential pay increase, Kibaki would have received a 187 percent raise, bringing his salary annually to almost $500,000. The MPs’ reason for increasing Kibaki’s salary to ludicrous levels was as they exclaimed, “to give the respect and dignity the presidency deserves.” Since when is an individual’s level of ‘respect and dignity’ measured by the amount of money he or she makes? It is through an individual’s actions that respect is earned, and given the fact that an estimated $1 billion in donor aid has gone missing under Kibaki’s administration, any reward or praise of the President may be, to say the least, misplaced. Although respect cannot be bought, apparently support can, which is what MPs were really aiming for when they offered Kibaki the substantial increase. The MPs knew that they could not gain the President’s approval for another pay raise unless they provided something sizeable in return, hence the 187 percent raise. Kibaki ultimately rejected the increase, stating it would be superfluous given the economic and social situation of the country. However, it took several months of intense public pressure for Kibaki to place the country’s needs before his own.

As of 2010, MPs make an annual base salary of approximately $126,000, or about Kenyan Shilling (Ksh) 851,000 per month. In addition to this base salary, MPs get an extravagant set of allowances. When MPs are first elected, they receive a Ksh10 million (approx. $125,000) allowance to either purchase or build a home, which is subsequently complemented by a monthly housing allowance of another Ksh140,000 ($1,750). MPs will typically opt to build lavish new mansions in their constituencies. However, to do that, they will take out exorbitant loans, leaving them heavily indebted. In fact, much of their monthly salary will go towards repaying loans used to fund a luxurious lifestyle. In defense of this extravagance, MPs actually fault their own constituents, claiming that Kenyans expect their MP to convey an image of wealth and prosperity. Well, naturally a person who is struggling to eat would find comfort in the fact that others are inordinately wealthy. Interestingly, a recent oversight report—the same report that called for the pay raises—also recommended that MPs should be prevented from committing more than two-thirds of their salaries to loans. The MPs were quick to reject the proposal however, claiming rather ironically that it implied they could not manage their finances.

In addition to money for housing, MPs also get a car allowance of almost Ksh3 million (approx. $40,000) when they are first elected, as well as an additional Ksh75,000 ($1,000) per month for ‘car maintenance’ (plus the $5,000 for travel). They also receive monthly allowances for entertainment (Ksh60,000) and other extraneous expenses (Ksh50,000). Perhaps most offensive is the ‘sitting’ allowance; MPs are actually paid an additional allowance of Ksh10,000 ($125) just for showing up to work, and under the proposed salary increase, MPs could get up to Ksh30,000 per sitting at a maximum of three sittings per day ($1,125 total). How exactly could that happen? An MP could attend two parliamentary sittings and a committee meeting in one day and amazingly be credited with three sittings. Also worth mention is MPs’ severance packages, which are mighty hefty; all MPs receive Ksh1.5 million after each five-year term. This is regardless of whether they are re-elected or not. Under the proposed increase, that amount will be raised to Ksh3.6 million ($45,000). But that’s not all; any MP without a pension or receiving less than $1,000 pension per month would also receive another $1,000 per month, regardless of length of service.

Members of Parliament are currently costing Kenyans an estimated $33 million annually, but that number could double or even triple if the new salary raise is passed, and the proposed increase in the number of MP seats from 222 to 349 is also approved. These proposals are the product of the Akiwumi tribunal, which was formed shortly after the 2007 post-election violence, to review the terms and conditions of service for MPs and National Assembly members. One of the main purposes of the tribunal, headed by former Kenyan appeals court judge Akilano Akiwumi, was to reassess MP salaries, following widespread public anger over MPs not paying taxes on excessive allowances. Currently, MPs only pay 25 percent taxes on their base salary; their allowances are not affected. Although the Akiwumi report was meant to bring a measure of fairness to the MP tax situation, it did just the opposite. While the tribunal recommended a larger tax burden for MPs that included tax on allowances, it also recommended an almost equal raise in pay, completely offsetting the proposed taxes and actually resulting in a slight increase in MP salaries. Under the proposed changes, MPs will see raises in their basic salary from Ksh851,000 to Ksh1,191,000 per month, plus raises in their allowances across the board. And although they will pay 228,000 in taxes on their basic salary, because of the salary increase, they will now take home over Ksh863,000; even more unsettling, they will not pay taxes on the largest allowances (housing, car).

The report’s recommendations were baffling, given the tribunal’s recognition of MPs’ extravagant spending and resulting indebtedness. The House debate was non-existent; MPs touted their positions and offered ridiculous arguments in favor of the salary increases. MP Walter Nyambati claimed that a tax of over Ksh200,000 without a comparable salary raise would be severely detrimental to MPs, particularly to those who ‘were elected based on a certain take-home remuneration and have consequently made arrangements based on that take-home remuneration,’ implying that MPs have either promised something in return for votes, or that they have already spent or promised beyond their means. He then advocated for large severance packages for MPs who serve only one term, claiming that they are most vulnerable. To what? The debts they incurred? If an MP lives well beyond his or her means, taking on numerous loans, and then is not re-elected, is it the public’s responsibility to continue to pay for his uncontrolled greed, well after he has left office? Is he not accountable for his own debt like all other Kenyans? In what was a rather juvenile argument, Duale actually ranted on about how other sectors of Kenyan society also avoid paying taxes, as if to imply that because of that fact, it was permissible for MPs to do the same. He then childishly demanded that the ‘opinion-makers’ (media, public) now redirect their attention to these other groups and insist that they too pay, which is an odd demand, since it’s the government’s job to enforce the tax code. And as if it somehow justifies their exorbitant salaries, Assistant Minister Ole Metito stated that although MPs are the highest paid lawmakers in the world, they aren’t the highest paid individuals in Kenya. Metito seemed to convey a slight resentment at that fact.

With Kenyans set to vote on a new Constitution in August, Kenya’s MPs have rushed to fill their pockets before new rules regulating future MP salary changes are put in place. Under the new constitution, MPs will no longer determine their own salaries—that power will transfer to a national remuneration commission—and they will have to pay taxes. To ensure the pay raise’s approval, MPs have threatened once again to impede the budget process, even after Finance Minister Uhuru Kenyatta announced decidedly that the Treasury did not have the money to accommodate such a raise. Kenyatta, along with Prime Minister Raila Odinga and Planning Assistant Minister Peter Kenneth, has strongly opposed the proposed increase. Kenyatta explained that in order to implement the raise, the government would have to either borrow more money, placing the nation under greater debt, or increase taxes, placing the burden directly upon Kenyans. Odinga has been particularly vocal in his criticism of the pay raise, stating simply that it is unfair for MPs to arbitrarily award themselves such large salaries, considering the country’s economic situation. Opposition from Kenya’s civil groups, NGOs as well as other public service groups has been massive, with civil service workers threatening a strike. Since 2003, as MPs have raised their own salaries with little debate, those working in the public and civil service sectors have repeatedly had their requests for raises denied.

After a short delay, the Kenyan government’s Cabinet recently debated the salary increase, and out of fear of fierce public protest, the proposal was rejected; however, the Cabinet did concede somewhat, agreeing to delay taxation of MPs’ salaries until 2012. Although the proposed salary increase was defeated, victory was certainly incomplete, as Kenyans will still be left to contend with an audaciously greedy and corrupt government. The fact that such an egregious proposal obtained near unanimous backing from Kenya’s MPs is unnerving, and sadly, Kenyans will continue to have to defend themselves against their own government in the future, or at least until the next election.

The G8 Muskoka Summit on June 25th, like previous summits, culminated in pledges that will alleviate specific symptoms of poverty but lack the size, direction, and credibility to generate systemic reform.  The leaders of the world’s eight largest economies discussed issues ranging from African development to the global economic recovery and Iran’s nuclear program.  The summit marked both the failure to meet foreign aid commitments from the 2005 Gleneagles Summit and the creation of the Muskoka Initiative for Mother, Newborn, and Child Health (MNCH).  These developments have reignited criticism of the G8’s commitment to, and policies for, African development. 

Gleneagles Commitments

At the Gleneagles Summit in 2005, the G8 made an ambitious pledge to increase annual Official Development Assistance (ODA) to Africa by $22.6 billion by 2010 through gradual increases in yearly aid.  As the G8 accounts for 70% of all ODA spending, this increase—which would have more than doubled G8 aid to Africa—could have constituted a major push towards achieving the Millennium Development Goals.  Specific goals of the 2005 commitments included investment in education, water, and sanitation systems; improved efforts to combat HIV/AIDS, malaria, and tuberculosis; increased support for African peacekeeping forces; and improved trade relations with African countries, with a vague proposal to eventually end protectionist trade policies.  The G8’s record in living up to these promises sheds light on the possibilities and pitfalls of G8 aid, as well as the credibility of the group as a collective body. [1] [2]

The G8 is on track to deliver only 61% of the Gleneagles commitments by 2010, an increase of approximately $13.7 billion per year. The actual amount of new funds going to Africa, however, is even less, because a large amount of these funds have been spent on debt cancellation.  Debt cancellation can be a critical step towards helping impoverished countries stabilize their budgets and free up resources for economic development, but the savings do not constitute immediate new funds for anti-poverty programs.  The $18 billion cancellation of Nigeria’s debt, for example, counted as an increase in foreign aid in 2005 and 2006.  However, those savings will be spread thinly over the course of the next 20 years.  Counting debt cancellation as foreign aid, therefore, significantly inflates the amount of money that is actually going towards new poverty-relief programs. Taking this factor into account, the G8’s performance over the last five years has fallen drastically short of the Gleneagles promises. [3]

The bulk of the shortfall falls on three countries: France, Germany, and Italy.  Based on ONE’s projections, by the end of 2010 Japan, the U.S., and Canada will have exceeded their commitments, with increases that amount to 148%, 159%, and 170% of their pledges, respectively.  The UK is expected to almost fulfill its promises, coming 7% short of reaching its pledge.  On the other hand, France and Germany are on track to deliver only 25% of their commitments, and Italy has actually decreased foreign aid to Africa by 6%.  The economic recession has been blamed for the G8’s failure to live up to its Gleneagles pledges, although a number of donors increased aid to African countries to help them manage the crisis. [4]

While G8 ODA fell far short of its promises, it is important to note where progress has been made.  Approximately 3 million people are now receiving antiretroviral drugs for HIV/AIDS, a massive increase from only 100,000 in 2003.  Comprehensive interventions have decreased the malaria infection rate by 50% in Ethiopia, Eritrea, Rwanda, Zanzibar, and Zambia.  Furthermore, the school enrollment rate has increased to almost 75%, up from 58% in 1999.   In other areas, however, G8 initiatives were less successful.  Efforts to improve sanitation and access to clean water have been disappointing, and pledges to “make trade work for Africa” have amounted to little concrete success.  While school enrollment has improved, many African schools remain severely underfunded and understaffed.  Hundreds of millions still live in extreme poverty, demonstrating the necessity of improved G8 ODA policy and leadership.  [5]

Muskoka Initiative for Mother Newborn and Child Health

The G8 revealed a new initiative at the Muskoka Summit on June 25th centering upon maternal, newborn, and child health (MNCH) to “i) prevent 1.3 million deaths of children under five years of age; ii) prevent 64,000 maternal deaths; and iii) enable access to modern methods of family planning by an additional 12 million couples,”[6] according to World Bank and World Health Organization estimates.  To fund the Muskoka Initiative, the G8 has promised additional funds of $5 billion over the next 5 years, noting that the G8 already contributes over $4.1 billion annually to MNCH efforts.  Other donors, including Switzerland, Spain, New Zealand, South Korea, Norway, and the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation pledged an additional $2.3 billion.  The G8 believes that “support from the G8 is catalytic” [7] and will result in a total of more than $10 billion for the Muskoka Initiative.

MNCH progress has been disappointing since the adoption of the MDGs in 2000.  MDG 4 calls for the reduction of the under-five mortality rate by two thirds between 1990 and 2015, and MDG 5 aims for universal access to reproductive health care and a 75% reduction of the maternal mortality rate.  The G8 official communiqué maintains that progress towards both of these goals has been too slow.  UN statistics corroborate their claim, stating that “nearly 1,500 pregnant women die each day and 24,000 children under five years die every 24 hours.”[8]  The failures in adequately addressing MNCH have garnered international attention.  The Africa Progress Report published by a group chaired by Kofi Annan highlighted the importance of Women’s Empowerment, and Uganda has decided to make MNCH the theme of the 15th Ordinary Session of the of the Assembly of African Heads of State and Government of the African Union.  The G8 has not focused specifically on MNCH in the past, only referencing the MDGs in general. 

Quantity of money is not the only factor in determining the success of ODA.  The Muskoka Initiative outlines various efforts necessary for achieving its goals, while emphasizing that each country has the right to fund the initiatives of its choice.  The long list from the communiqué describing the initiative includes childcare, voluntary family planning, and prevention of mother-to-child HIV transmission along with calls for innovation, coordination, and research, such as expanded use of cell phones and civic mobilization to improve statistics.  Many NGOs expressed concern about the lack of specifics, such as precise numbers of people to be trained for each initiative.  The general approach by the G8 appears to be broad and inclusive, naming a myriad of useful elements without discussing how to balance them in a system where each country donates individually.

Beverly Oda, Minister of International Cooperation in Canada, noted in a press release that “each of our leaders informed us that the most effective approach to improve the health of mothers and children under five years is to focus on strengthening health care systems in developing countries.”[9] The communiqué even emphasizes that many of the health problems “could be prevented with better access to strengthened health system,” and the G8 pledges to support health systems. However, the plans for strengthening numerous health systems appear only once in the communiqué: “improved health information systems, inter alia vital statistics registration, regular household surveys and applied research to monitor and evaluate implementation.” [10] While stronger information systems have the potential to improve health care in cities and developed areas, technological advancements will rarely impact rural communities without electricity and other infrastructure, areas which often need the most assistance.  Statistics, household surveys, and applied research can improve the capacity of policy makers to make informed decisions about systematic reform as well as providing an accountability measure by potentially tracking improvements. However, these measures alone will not achieve the amount of systematic restructuring necessary for African health systems to function properly.  Overall, none of the elements of the G8 plan to reform health systems intrinsically result in strengthening systems. G8 countries certainly can, and most likely will, expand upon the methods mentioned above for health infrastructure reform. Unfortunately, the lack of detail in the prescription for health system change might result in poor coordination regarding reform measures.

NGOs have largely regarded the Muskoka Initiative as a drop in the bucket for adequately addressing MNCH.  World Vision referred to the initiative as “a down payment” rather than “an adequate investment,” arguing that “annual global health funding of $42.5 billion by 2015, including a doubling to $16 billion a year for maternal and child health, is required to fill funding gaps.” [11] The organization also disapproved of the lack of delineations of the financial expectations for each county, although Canada and the US have made specific promises.  ONE also criticized the lack of funding, stating that $5 billion “falls far short of the $30 billion in additional funding that experts estimate is needed to meet the Millennium Development Goals on maternal and child health by 2015,”[12] a number which the Partnership for Maternal, Newborn and Child Health acknowledged would be necessary. World Vision, ONE, and Oxfam all expressed concerns about whether or not the money given under this initiative would be new money or simply resources already promised and redirected through creative accounting.  [13]  [14]  [15]

Maximizing the G8’s Impact

Improved accountability measures are necessary to hold the G8 to their commitments.  The G8 has already commissioned the 2009 Muskoka Accountability Report to evaluate its ODA programs, an encouraging first step.  Further support for the independence and legitimacy of internal accountability mechanisms will enhance the G8’s ability to implement substantive reforms.  Non-profit organizations can expand upon accountability efforts by raising awareness about G8 commitments, thereby encouraging the public to monitor their government’s fulfillment of aid promises.  An increased focus on multilateral commitments should result in greater adherence to aid pledges, as nations scrutinize each other’s fulfillment of commitments. [16]

To improve aid efficacy, the G8 must focus on defining their programs and commitments.   Specificity allows groups to monitor G8 commitments against objective standards, increasing accountability and transparency.  Enhanced clarity and credibility will also facilitate effective planning by providing more accurate information about donor activity.  As the G8 agrees on broad outlines but allows donors to allocate funds individually, improved precision is necessary to foster collaboration and optimal resource distribution. Similarly, more accurate information will allow recipient governments and NGOs to direct their efforts as productively as possible. [17]

Simply giving money to Africa has not been and will never be the solution to Africa’s problems.  A generation of aid initiatives has failed to raise significantly the quality of life in African nations, many of which contain vast natural resources.  IIJD firmly believes that positive change requires institutional reform.  The G8 must use their resources, both financial and political, to promote democratic systems and the rule of the law.  Aid needs to be contingent upon higher standards of governance, and it must, by promoting transparency, accountability, and effective delivery mechanisms, foster civic institutions which can thrive without foreign assistance.  Ultimately, strengthening institutions remains a prerequisite for sustainable economic development.  As Bronwen Maddox wrote in The Times, “in the present anguished state of development theory, the only principle that looks solid is that without good government, aid is wasted.” [18]

The December 2009 shooting of Captain Moussa Dadis Camara, the former self-proclaimed President of Guinea, was perhaps a grave warning to those individuals who would seek to grab power through illegitimate means. Captain Moussa Dadis Camara came to power briefly by way of military coup after the death of long-time President/Dictator Lansana Conté in December 2008. Initially promising a peaceful transfer to democratic rule through the implementation of elections (that did not include him as a candidate), the wayward Camara began to demonstrate a fever that only those presented with an opportunity for supreme power can demonstrate, and it soon became apparent that Captain Dadis Camara would indeed stand for election. However, his days proved numbered and another transitional military regime soon took over, once again promising democracy without the meddling of overambitious military leaders. Guinea has never seen democracy; the late Lansana Conté grabbed power through a military coup and then ruled for over 24 years, without substantial opposition, denying liberal reforms and changing the constitution as he pleased. Fortunately, Conté’s death, combined with Camara’s dramatic and short-lived power grab, have provided enough of a political vacuum for Guineans to potentially establish, for the very first time, a real democratic government. However, the success of this undertaking will depend entirely upon the country’s ability to hold free and fair elections, whose outcome produces competent, selfless and principled leadership.

In December 2008, Guinea’s long-time dictator, Lansana Conté died after suffering a long illness, which was kept mostly secret from the Guinean public. This long-anticipated event was certain to lead to some political strife, but it was largely expected that the late president’s party, the Party of Unity and Progress (PUP), would maintain its power and that the status quo would continue. However, there were also concerns that elements of the highly factionalized military would attempt a coup. These concerns proved warranted, as hours after Conté’s death, a little known army captain, Captain Moussa Dadis Camara, seized power through an essentially unchallenged military coup. Camara dissolved all government institutions and union activity, citing their failure to serve the interests of the people as justification. However, Camara’s promise for a quick and legitimate return to civilian rule was soon broken, as Camara’s behavior became increasingly erratic, and it became obvious to all that Camara had no intention of relinquishing his new position. Perhaps the final straw for many was the September 2009 brutal military attack against civilians protesting Camara’s continued rule. Camara’s forces as well as other rogue factions of the military shot and killed unarmed civilians, gang-raped and mutilated women and injured hundreds of others that tried to flee the horrific attack. In December 2009, Camara was shot in the head in what was an attempted assassination by a fellow officer and was forced to leave the country. It was then that General Sekouba Konaté, an associate of Camara’s, took over interim leadership of the government, quickly negotiating a return to civilian rule through presidential elections, set to occur on June 27th 2010 (results are pending).

Under Guinea’s constitution in effect at the time of Lansana Conté’s death, in the case of the president’s death, the president of the National Assembly will assume the presidency until new elections are held, which must be organized within 60 days. After Conté’s death, the President of the National Assembly, Aboubacar Somparé, along with Military Chief of Staff General Diarra Camara and Prime Minister Ahmed Tidiane Souaré, called upon the president of the Supreme Court to note the presidential vacancy and to apply the appropriate constitutional provisions. Although such a transition would have been legitimate, powerful political forces were already conspiring behind the scenes to ensure that Somparé did not assume power. Somparé, though initially chosen by Conté to serve as President of the National Assembly, had apparently fallen out of favor with the President and was reportedly unpopular with the army and with leaders within his own party, the PUP. More specifically, it had been reported that relations between Somparé and the Secretary-General of PUP, Sékou Konaté (not to be confused with General Sékouba Konaté, current transitional President), were strained. Somparé also faced opposition from Fodé Bangoura, Conté’s personal aide, who had practically run the country during the few years prior to Conté’s death, while Conté was gravely ill. Both Sékou Konaté and Fode Bangoura viewed Aboubacar Somparé as a political threat. All three men were likely vying to be the PUP’s next presidential candidate, and prior to the coup, it seemed as though this power struggle would dominate the future political landscape. However, with elections now out of the direct hands of Conté and the PUP, the party cannot afford disunion, particularly since the Guinean public has now been provided, through the upcoming June 27th elections, the opportunity to punish the PUP for 24 years of corrupt and oppressive rule. Recognizing such, many of the main players of the PUP, including Somparé and Konaté, reconciled, and the decision was made to allow Somparé to run as the PUP’s presidential candidate.

About Bacar Somparé is a career politician, who has worked for the Guinean government for over thirty years; he is very much a part of the PUP establishment and his reconciliation with some of the more corrupt members of the PUP should be worrying. This lack of independence will only ensure that the PUP establishment, if reinstalled, will continue to maintain the status quo, stymieing reform so that its members can continue to profit both politically and economically. Former Conté allies such as Mamadou Sylla are also lurking about, seeking to secure their position in the next government. Sylla, the controversial former Honorary President of the PUP, is a powerful and corrupt businessman and politician, who was convicted of fraud and sentenced to prison in 2006, only to be freed from jail personally by Conté shortly afterwards. Sylla began as a major rice retailer, but then ventured into arms importing, becoming the army’s main supplier and eventually one of Guinea’s wealthiest business leaders. During this time, he formed a close relationship with Conté, using his money and influence to support Conté’s illegitimate 2001 referendum to abolish term limits. In turn, Sylla was heavily rewarded, not only with major government contracts, but with increased political influence and access, as well as immunity from prosecution (although he was convicted for embezzlement in 2006, he was immediately released, and soon after proclaimed honorary president of PUP). Under both Moussa Dadis Camara and the new transitional regime, Sylla has lost a significant amount of his political influence; just last year he had some of his property confiscated and had to stand before the anti-corruption audit commission. However, he is still a threat to the formation of a democratic government, as he struggles to regain lost political power. Sylla has formed a new political party, the Democratic Union of Guinea (UDG), and although it is highly unlikely that he will win, Sylla is currently one of twenty-four candidates vying for the presidency.

Similar to many other African elections, Guineans will face a host of familiar names on the presidential ballot, as leaders who have worked to exploit the country scramble to recycle themselves in wake of the political shuffle. Many of Conté’s former ministers have also found a place on the ballot including former Youth Minister Fodé Soumah, former Prime Minister Sidya Touré (now President of opposition party Union of Democratic Forces of Guinea), former Prime Minister Lansana Kouyaté, who in his short stint dared to challenge Conté and was eventually sacked, and another former Prime Minister, reformist Cellou Dalein Diallo, who was also sacked following an attempt to reshuffle the government. Diallo failed to implement his reform strategy due mostly to significant opposition within the government and military power structure. In 2006, Conté signed a decree allowing Diallo to take control of key ministerial portfolios including the economy, finance, international cooperation and planning. Under this government reshuffle, which would have been key to implementing reform, Diallo would have appointed seven new ministers and ousted twelve current ministers. However, before the decree could be implemented, Bangoura and his government allies had it reversed and Diallo subsequently removed from office, with the approval of the ailing Conté. Bangoura had claimed that Diallo had overstepped his power, but it was apparent that Bangoura and his corrupt associates throughout the government and military felt threatened by the potential for reform and so conspired against Diallo, incapacitating him politically. Soon after being ousted, Diallo joined the opposition and became President of the Union of Democratic Forces of Guinea (UDFG); he was one of hundreds of people injured by military forces during the September 2009 protests in Conakry. He may have proven himself to be enough of an outsider of the former Conté regime to gain significant support amongst the populace; however, it remains unclear whether his previous attempt at government overhaul was a selfless act in the name of reform, or a selfish bid to secure more power.

Perhaps the purist of the major candidates is Alpha Condé, the opposition leader who is strongly believed to have won the 1993 election. He is considered ‘pure’ in that he has never taken part in the economic exploitation of the country, something which PUP members engaged in rather freely during their reign. Condé has stood as a presidential candidate in every subsequent election since 1993, except for the 2003 election, during which time, Condé was barred from running. Shortly after the 1998 presidential elections, Condé had been falsely tried and convicted of plotting a coup against Conté. After serving almost two years in prison, Conté agreed to release Condé from jail in 2001 under the condition that he never again engage in political activities, but Condé immediately left the country so that he could resume his position as President of the People’s Rally for Guinea Party (RPG). Condé spent the next four years running a sophisticated, international campaign in support of democratic reform in Guinea, and then returned to the country in 2005 to assist the RPG in municipal elections, but instead chose to boycott them. Condé is perhaps the most credible of the 24 presidential candidates, having never been part of Conté’s regime. Although Condé’s lack of association with the previous government is considered a huge advantage, it is also a cause of criticism. Condé has never held a senior political position; he does not have significant political experience. Hence, some critics question his ability to hold such a high-level position. But with Condé as president, an absolute overhaul of government is certainly guaranteed and most would argue that is exactly what the country needs at this stage: an entirely new government devoid of any autocratic remnants.

With so much at stake, it is imperative that the upcoming presidential election produce a reformist government that is legitimately democratic. This begins with the current regime holding free and fair elections that allow for unrestricted campaigning and electoral access for both the candidates and voters. Thus far, political campaigning has proceeded without disruption and although Camara is still trying to impose his influence in absentia, no military leaders have attempted to stand for the presidency. The transitional military regime continues to ensure its cooperation in establishing a democratic government and has provided security for candidates campaigning throughout the country. The National Independent Election Commission (NIEC) continues to work under a tight deadline to ensure widespread voter registration, and the appropriate election logistics. Fortunately, the US-based Carter Center, ECOWAS and a host of individual countries are also providing support to the NIEC in the form of technical assistance and election monitors, and most organizations have praised the efforts of all those involved, noting the progress that has been made thus far.

A lot of this progress toward achieving sustainable democracy can be attributed to Interim President General Sekouba Konaté, who since his inception has stayed continuously committed to his promise of democratic governance through credible elections. Upon taking over the presidency, General Sékouba Konaté immediately held a vote amongst opposition political parties, the unions and the military junta to find a suitable civilian interim prime minister, which led to the appointment by Konaté of long-time opposition leader, Jean-Marie Doré to the post. Konaté also launched a reconciliation campaign across the country, involving all political parties, the unions and the military. The president has called upon the nation to look past their differences and has asked for the public’s forgiveness; he has also promised an end to impunity and justice for victims of violence and poverty. General Sékouba Konaté continues to reiterate his commitment to, and faith in, the June 27th election and has so far managed successfully to maintain unity amongst fractious and restless military elements, which is no easy feat. The International Institute for Justice and Development (IIJD) commends Interim President Sekouba Konaté for his ongoing commitment to a peaceful transition to legitimate democratic rule. Prior to General Sékouba Konaté’s leadership, Guinea was on the precipice of losing a unique opportunity: a chance at real democracy. In his new found role as President, General Sékouba Konaté took action to ensure that the country would return to civilian governance. President Konaté has successfully promoted dialogue between all parties involved, thwarted ongoing threats and attempts at election subversion and ultimately fulfilled his promise to hold free and fair elections. The IIJD hopes that President Konaté will serve as a model to other African leaders and that the recognition of his actions will encourage others to follow in his footsteps.

Although the presidential election seems a bit rushed, there is a sense of urgency that they must proceed without further delay. Guinea currently does not have a legitimate, functioning government; it is at the moment ruled by a makeshift regime that cannot be allowed to root itself any deeper within the political power structure. In addition, with the country heavily factionalized, leaving a political vacuum of such size is dangerous; there are too many parties seeking to exploit the current political disorder, hence the pressing need for a legitimately elected government. The IIJD calls upon all parties involved to engage in the electoral process in a responsible manner and to respect the will of the people, whatever the outcome. What Guineans have here is a momentous opportunity to take ownership of their government, as well as their country’s resources, and for the first time since gaining independence in 1958, to experience real freedom. Only a strong institutional foundation can foster and sustain current gains, and it pertains to Guineans to seize this opportunity to ensure that profound and appropriate reforms are conducted. They deserve government institutions that empower them and nurture their right to shape their future. There is a renewed hope amongst Guineans that their lives are likely to change for the better as a result of these elections, and it is this enthusiasm that may very well be the key to ensuring such an outcome. The power is now in the hands of Guinea’s citizens to elect a leader that will empower them in return and provide them with a long anticipated and much deserved reprieve from decades of suffering they endured at the hands of a dictator.

With populations booming throughout Africa and water sources already strained due to recurrent drought and increased desertification, disputes over major African water resources are likely to increase in intensity, as is currently the case between several Nile basin countries. Under an antiquated 1959 agreement, over 90% of the Nile’s waters are shared amongst Egypt and Sudan, with the vast majority going to the most barren of the Nile Basin countries, Egypt. However, as countries like Ethiopia expand in population and seek to develop their water and irrigation systems, disagreement over the current distribution paradigm has escalated. Although Egypt and Sudan have promised their cooperation in resolving the water dilemma, they have staunchly opposed any reduction in their Nile water allocation and have even blocked funding for water development projects in other Nile basin countries, so as not to disrupt their own supply. Recently, several Nile basin countries signed the Nile River Cooperative Framework Agreement (CFA), which stipulates more equitable sharing of Nile waters. The CFA, which has been vehemently opposed by Egypt, is the culmination of years of study, negotiation and ultimately, frustration. It represents the empowerment of previously disenfranchised African nations, but also signifies the onset of a larger conflict over Africa’s limited water supply.

Use of the Nile waters is essentially governed by two colonial era agreements. The first agreement signed in 1929 between Egypt, Sudan and Great Britain, which represented all East African countries under its rule at the time, guaranteed Egypt 48bn cubic meters (bcm) of water and Sudan a mere 4bcm out of a total 87bcm. The signing of the agreement was largely the result of a desire by both countries to begin large scale works projects on the Nile. Great Britain was particularly interested in developing water resources in Sudan, a British protectorate at the time. In exchange for Egypt’s approval of greater Nile water usage by Sudan, Great Britain and Sudan agreed to recognize Egypt’s natural and historic rights over the Nile waters, based upon prior use. The agreement also granted Egypt the power to renegotiate the terms if Sudan’s political status were to change in the future and veto power over any proposed water projects throughout the Nile basin that may affect its water supply. For over 30 years, the 1929 accord maintained the status quo, providing Egypt ultimate control over Nile waters. However, after Sudan gained its independence in 1956, it repudiated the agreement, arguing that a material change in circumstance had transformed the parties’ rights and obligations under the treaty. This eventually led to the signing of a new agreement in 1959, which increased both Egypt’s and Sudan’s Nile water allocations to 55.5bcm and 18.5bcm, respectively, and resulted in the building of the Aswan High Dam. The 1959 agreement changed little else, however. Egypt still exercised decisive authority over the Nile’s waters; any water works project had to be approved by Egypt, which would, after approval, monitor the project to ensure compliance with the agreed water allocation. In addition, none of the other Nile basin countries were consulted regarding the 1959 agreement, and Ethiopia refused to accept the agreement as legitimate.

Although many Nile basin countries achieved independence in the 1960’s, it was not until the 1990’s that these countries made substantial efforts for more equitable sharing of Nile waters; these efforts culminated in the formation of the Nile Basin Initiative (NBI). Established in 1999, the NBI is the main institutional mechanism for Nile Basin countries seeking to develop Nile river water resources in a cooperative manner. NBI membership includes all Nile Basin countries (Burundi, DRC, Ethiopia, Kenya, Rwanda, Tanzania and Uganda), including Egypt and Sudan. Although officially launched in 1999, countries of the NBI have been working cooperatively since 1992 to achieve a sustainable and fair solution to the region’s growing water needs. Since its inception, the NBI has established a formal organizational framework, facilitated significant study and agreement regarding specific programs and projects and also acquired significant funding to begin implementing the first stages of its proposed multilateral and bilateral projects. The ultimate goal of the NBI was to establish the Nile Basin Cooperative Framework Agreement (CFA). The CFA is the final step needed before countries can begin implementing NBI projects; it is the actual treaty that will authorize, with the approval of all NBI countries, more equitable allocation of Nile waters by establishing the Nile Basin Commission (NBC), through which member countries will act together to manage and develop resources of the Nile.

In June of 2008, after nearly a decade of negotiations, the deadline to ratify the CFA passed with only seven of the nine NBI member states’ approval; Egypt and Sudan refused to ratify the treaty. Although Egypt claimed that its refusal to sign was based on its concern over certain clauses and that it would continue to try and reach a consensus over any contentious provisions, other NBI countries blamed Egypt for once again acting only within its own interest and not recognizing the obvious inequalities that exist with regards to Nile water distribution. Specifically, Egypt and Sudan have stated their objection to a specific provision of Article 14 of the CFA, which states, “Having due regard for the provisions of Articles 4 and 5, Nile Basin States recognize the vital importance of water security to each of them. Nile Basin States therefore agree, in a spirit of cooperation, to work together to ensure that all states achieve and sustain water security and not to significantly affect the water security of any other Nile Basin State.” Both countries continue to advocate for the clause’s rephrasing to “not to adversely affect the water security and current uses and rights of any other Nile Basin States.” However, this phrase would completely nullify the purpose of the NBI and the CFA, which is to dispose of the 1959 agreement and allow for more reasonable allocation of Nile waters.

After two more years of failed negotiation, in May of 2010, several NBI countries met in Entebbe, Uganda to sign the CFA. Despite strong opposition from Egypt and Sudan, Rwanda, Kenya, Ethiopia, Uganda and Tanzania ratified the treaty, frustrated over the Egypt and Sudan’s continued resistance. The DRC and Burundi, although not present at the signing, have also agreed to ratify the treaty. The adoption of the treaty by the majority of the NBI states angered Egypt, which immediately reiterated its position that it would not sign any agreement that threatened its current water supply. The Egyptian government says it will staunchly defend its historic rights and powers over Nile waters, and has taken action in the past to do just that. In the early 1990’s, it was reported that Egypt worked to block an African Development Bank loan that would have provided Ethiopia the means to implement a large water works project. In addition, Egypt’s political influence over Middle Eastern affairs provides it with adequate leverage over many developed countries in terms of preventing funding for Nile Basin country water projects. Also, in 1994, it was reported that Egypt had planned but canceled an air strike on Sudan over the building of a new dam. Egypt has stated in the past that it would regard any attempt to alter the Nile’s current status as an act of war. Recently, in reaction to the NBI’s decision to ratify the CFA, Egypt referred the issue to its National Security Authority. The reason for the referral is the inauguration of the Tana Beles hydropower station and dam in Ethiopia, which occurred immediately after the CFA was signed. Egypt insists that its approval is needed before projects such as Tana Beles station can be implemented; however the CFA does not recognize Egypt’s former unilateral powers over Nile waters.

Egypt’s rigorous defense of its Nile water supply is understandable given its present dependency on the Nile River. Egypt’s population is entirely dependent upon the Nile for its water supply. Egypt’s total population lives on only 5% of the country’s land, as the remaining 95% is desert and uninhabitable. Furthermore, Egypt’s population has grown from just 19 million in 1947 to over 80 million currently, a 300 percent increase in just 60 years. The country is already struggling to accommodate its massive population, as areas surrounding the Nile continue to urbanize and suffer from over crowdedness. To alleviate the problem, the Egyptian government has begun to create new towns; however, this requires sizeable amounts of water, something Egypt currently does not have. In addition, over 40% of Egypt’s population relies upon agriculture to survive; hence, a reduction in its water supply will likely result in diminished food production and equally important, the loss of jobs. Naturally, both Egypt and Sudan have expressed deep concerns over the increased likelihood of a decrease in their countries’ water supply, but their fears are also shared by other NBI countries, which have faced similar problems for years.

Similar to Egypt, Ethiopia has a population of over 80 million people, more than double than it was in 1975. In addition, constantly failing rains and recurrent drought in Ethiopia have made it virtually impossible to grow any crops. Compounding the problem is the government’s inability to construct irrigation systems and large water works projects. Over 80% of the Nile’s water flows from Ethiopia, yet the country has never been able to make significant use of it. It has been estimated that the building of irrigation systems would help 30-40% of the population. As 40% of Egypt’s population relies upon Nile waters for agricultural purposes, approximately 80% of Ethiopia’s population is reliant upon agriculture as its main source of livelihood, and agricultural production comprises about 50% of the country’s GDP. Similar estimates apply to several other Nile basin countries. Kenya and Tanzania also suffer from recurrent drought, deforestation and soil erosion and continue to experience rising population numbers. Without access to additional water sources, their people are certain to endure greater hardship. Tanzania’s Water Minister, Edward Lowasa, recently stated, in defense of his country’s decision to pipe water from Lake Victoria, “These are people with no water…How can we do nothing when we have this lake just sitting there?” The fact remains that East African Nile basin countries have suffered greatly from a serious lack of water, which consistently disrupts food production and forces heavy reliance upon food aid. The World Food program (WFP) rates Ethiopia’s hunger situation as extremely alarming, with an estimated 46% of the population undernourished. With six major droughts in just two decades, many people have not had adequate time to recover their livelihoods between droughts, which have wiped out crops, animals and what few assets they have managed to accumulate. This is essentially an endless cycle, experienced by a growing population in Ethiopia, Eritrea, Kenya and other NBI states, and it is a cycle that cannot be broken without an increase in regional water supply.

The signing of the CFA, and the implementation of new water works projects throughout the Nile basin are significant steps towards alleviating some of the burden for growing populations in previously deprived basin countries, but the likely reduction of water supply to Egypt and Sudan will surely impact their populations negatively, resulting in increased impoverishment in these two countries. Therein lies the real dilemma. Regardless of how the waters are ultimately distributed, there simply is not enough water to completely accommodate all parties involved. More equitable distribution, based upon each country’s population needs, is seemingly the fairest solution at this point; however, even the fairest solution has been vehemently opposed by two of the major parties to the dispute. The fact that over a decade of substantial negotiation could not produce consensus is a rather worrying sign, particularly since the conflict will only increase in intensity in the years to come. Therefore, a concerted effort on the part of the international community will be needed in order to prevent a violent escalation, particularly a military confrontation. Former UN Secretary-General Boutros Boutros-Ghali warned that “the next war among countries will not be for oil or territorial borders, but only for…water.” All avenues of peaceful resolution to this conflict must be attempted to avert war on any scale. Twenty-five African countries are expected to experience water scarcity or water stress over the next 30 years, which means the Nile basin countries are not alone in their dispute. This also means that it is in the interest of all African countries to work cooperatively to avoid conflict and achieve water security. By using regional, as well as the AU’s mechanisms to pool resources and leverage assistance from the broader international community, African countries, particularly those in the Nile basin, can reach a sustainable solution that will ensure a level of water security that is beneficial to all.

A prominent belief amongst African leaders today is that the international community will accept your rule as democratic if you hold perceptibly legitimate elections of which you are declared victor. Although elections are arguably the first step to a more representative form of government, one that serves the will of its people, democracy of course is not achieved solely through the organization of elections. Democracy requires the development of a government that protects the human and civil rights of its people and that is guided by a strong system of laws to which no one is exempt. Perhaps even more important, democracy cannot flourish without a deep understanding and acceptance by the general population, as well as by those who seek to lead, of the values it represents. Sudan’s recent presidential and parliamentary elections in April, the country’s first multi-party elections in almost 25 years, demonstrated that the country is moving towards a more democratic political system. However, widespread election fraud, intimidation and harassment of voters by major political parties in the north and the south signify the refusal of the most powerful to accept the possibility of defeat and subsequently to adopt a truly democratic system of governance.

With the referendum on Southern independence fast approaching, the pressure on Bashir’s government and opposition political parties to hold elections—and subsequently fulfill one of their chief obligations under the Comprehensive Peace Agreement (CPA) of 2005—was immense. It was partly this pressure by the international community to hold elections without delay that undermined their very legitimacy. The push to hold elections resulted in extreme disorganization and confusion, unchecked repression of the opposition, prevalent fraud and a serious lack of inclusiveness. Calls for delay by independent monitoring groups were met with staunch opposition, and not surprisingly, a threat from President Bashir, who vowed to ‘cut off [the monitors’] fingers’ before throwing them out of the country. Rather ironically, because the elections were so wrought with fraud, the international community had no choice but to admit, that even with a two-day extension, the elections had failed to meet international standards.

As it is always the case in Africa prior to elections, reports of election fraud and repression by the Sudanese government began months prior to the elections, during the voter registration period in 2009. A lack of information regarding registration times and locations, ongoing violence in Southern Sudan, the failure to reach millions already displaced in Darfur, and delays in accrediting international election observers, all served as obstacles to ensuring proper voter registration. There were even reports that National Election Commission (NEC) officials had used the same boundary tape used to indicate the presence of landmines to identify registration centers, which caused, to say the least, significant confusion. Although voter registration had its setbacks, the NEC did manage to register over 15 million people, which comprises about 75 percent of the country’s voting age population. This was considered a huge milestone for the country and a significant first step in implementing the CPA, which outlines the requirements for establishing the referendum on Southern independence.

During late 2009, in an attempt to build greater understanding of democratic processes and civil rights, political parties and civic activists began educating and training local populations on the election process. However, security forces were quick to disrupt many of these public meetings. In November and December, it was reported that the government either cancelled, denied permission for or disbanded several election monitoring training sessions in Kassala (eastern Sudan), two public meetings in Kosti, a public speech in support of an independent presidential candidate in Khartoum and dozens of public rallies. With a population that has little to no understanding of democracy or even the simple act of voting, the need for civic education is great. Illiteracy in the South is rampant; much of the population has never even held a pencil, which demonstrates how much of a challenge it is to train the population in the electoral process. The ballot alone had over 12 different parties vying for state, national and sub-national legislative and executive positions as well as the presidency; navigating the form proved confounding for even the most educated of Sudanese. Although assistance was provided to illiterate voters during the actual elections, such minimal support cannot replace the necessity for civic education, which was so often denied by the government in the months leading up to the election. In some instances, the lack of understanding of democratic processes by the local population, coupled with strong feelings of ethnocentrism and tribalism, led to violence. For example, in November, Samson Kawje, Minister of Agriculture for Southern Sudan, while promoting voter registration in the small administrative area of Wondoruba payam, was shot by an armed community member, who was angry over Kawja’s attempt to place the town under the jurisdiction of a neighboring county. This example also demonstrates how the failure to accept compromise and the continued use of violence in response to political change remains a significant obstacle to achieving real democratic reform in Sudan.

In the run up to the elections, campaigning also proved difficult for opposition and independent party candidates. There were hundreds of reports of opposition candidates being harassed, intimidated, arrested or otherwise detained ahead of the presidential and parliamentary elections. In Western Bahr el-Ghazal, security forces arrested 14 members of the Sudan People’s Liberation Movement (SPLM), then interrogated and beat them. Another 22 were detained by government forces, beaten and then forced to sign an agreement, promising to discontinue all political activities. Southern security forces also targeted NCP members active in the South, as well as any Southern political parties that threatened SPLM’s dominance at the polls. In addition to the repressive tactics employed by both the NCP and the SPLM, Bashir and the NCP possessed an unfair advantage, as they improperly utilized government resources to support their electoral campaign. There were even accusations that the NCP had used UNAMID helicopters to move party members around to campaign. Furthermore, The NCP’s influence over national and local media was unmatched. Although state-owned media had allocated free air time to all parties’ candidates, television and radio campaign coverage in Khartoum primarily focused upon the NCP. In addition, the government continued to obstruct press freedom throughout the country. In March, security forces stormed the offices of Bakhita FM, a community-based radio station run by a Catholic Church and threatened to shut the station down unless it stopped broadcasting political programming. That same month, the privately-owned Liberty FM was raided after broadcasting an interview with an independent politician and also threatened with closure if it continued to broadcast political programming.

Every aspect of Sudan’s election process was wrought with fraud, from the 2008 census (after which the government gerrymandered to favor the NCP) to voter registration, (during which NCP members were arrested on accusations of paying people to register as NCP), and to the actual elections, (during which thousands of SPLA soldiers were reportedly flown around the South to vote, ensuring that SPLM remained the dominant party in each state). Opposition parties were clearly at a disadvantage throughout the election process, and as a result, several parties pulled out of the presidential, parliamentary and governorship races, demanding the government ensure more balanced campaign and media access. Confusion then reigned over partial and full election boycotts announced by the SPLM, the Umma Party and the Democratic Unionist Party (DUP). The Umma Party’s pull-out perhaps had the largest impact on the elections and their credibility; the Umma Party, which is widely popular, had won the 1986 elections before being ousted by a coup led by current President Bashir in 1989. Opposition parties’ concerns regarding government and NCP fraud were certainly valid. In an environment in which they could not freely campaign or rally supporters, the opposition argued it had little chance of properly contesting the ruling NCP and Bashir, who is vehemently seeking validation in view of being charged with war crimes by the International Criminal Court (ICC). However, the SPLM, and other opposition parties, were also divided in their strategy, questioning whether efforts should be more focused on consolidating the South in preparation of the referendum, or on taking on Bashir and gaining more power in the North. In the end, a coalition of the major opposition parties chose to pull out of both the presidential and legislative races (their names remained on the ballots however due to the short notice), certain that without their participation, the elections and any outcome would be considered illegitimate. The SPLM pulled out of only the presidential race, however. It could not risk jeopardizing its obvious advantage in the South.

The current situation in Sudan leads many to question whether elections can be held in an environment so lacking in basic democratic principles. With the country currently run by a dictator who refuses to cede even the slightest bit of power and who is wanted for the most horrific of war crimes, the expectation of free and fair elections is naïve at best. The results of the election have favored Bashir and the NCP, but it is unlikely Bashir will achieve the legitimacy he so ironically fought so illegitimately for. And what of the opposition? The SPLM, which was so preoccupied with retaining its power, certainly shares in the blame for the failure of the elections. It too employed repressive and fraudulent means to ensure victory, but against such a powerful and unscrupulous adversary, one could argue the SPLM had little to no choice to revert to such means. However, what is troubling is that the SPLM’s behavior during this election is likely indicative of how it will act in any future campaigns.

With widespread repression, fraud and logistical problems reported throughout the electoral process, and the outcome already decided, the results of the election are unlikely to have any impact upon Sudan’s political dynamic. It has been argued that the elections, at best, served as a practice run for the upcoming referendum, but this is a somewhat trivial view of an exercise whose implementation and legitimacy are so crucial to facilitating democracy. If the elections were indeed a test, particularly of the Sudanese’s ability to understand, accept and practice democracy, the Sudanese and the international community have largely failed in achieving this task. Therefore, the International Institute for Justice and Development (IIJD) cannot recognize Sudan’s elections as legitimate. The IIJD maintains strongly that elections must be free and fair in order for their results to be deemed valid. In the case of Sudan, it was apparent from the beginning that the volatility of the political environment would make achieving such a goal nearly impossible. Furthermore, although international election monitors were operating in a very restrictive environment, their assistance in facilitating the elections was largely superficial. International assistance was mostly limited to training local monitors in proper voting procedures and assisting in preparing ballots. The IIJD strongly believes this type of electoral assistance to be wholly inadequate and further maintains that the only way to ensure free and fair elections in a country such as Sudan is to involve the international community and independent international NGOs in from the very beginning of the electoral process.

In approximately one month, the mandate of the United Nations’ peacekeeping mission in the Democratic Republic of Congo (MONUC) will expire, a frightening reality considering the state of the country, which continues to suffer from ongoing conflict, substantial population displacement and widespread corruption. In December 2009, the United Nations Security Council, in compliance with a formal request from the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) government, voted in favour of extending MONUC’s mandate for only another five months. In September, the DRC government had announced its demand for the complete withdrawal of MONUC peacekeeping forces by 2011.

Many found the DRC’s request surprising given the country’s lack of sufficient progress in security sector reform. Despite recent successes in defeating rebel forces in the Kivus, most would argue that the DRC’s security forces—whose reputation is marred by serious allegations of murder and rape of civilians — are, to say the least, ill-equipped to provide security for populations living throughout an area the size of Western Europe. The DRC’s demand for MONUC’s withdrawal is decidedly premature, if not dangerous, as MONUC’s removal is certain to shrink humanitarian space. Furthermore, because the DRC’s current capacity to provide security for its population is so lacking, the demand for withdrawal places the Security Council in a precarious position, as it must decide whether state sovereignty in this particular instance supersedes its responsibility to protect.

The United Nations Mission in DRC, or MONUC, was first implemented in 1999, to enforce a ceasefire finally achieved after years of conflict involving several countries of the region, often referred to as Africa’s World War. MONUC’s mandate is quite comprehensive in nature and has oftentimes had to adapt to changing circumstances due to ongoing conflict in Eastern DRC. MONUC is also the largest of the UN’s peacekeeping operations with over 20,000 troops from 50 countries. Although some MONUC troops have been implicated in cases of sexual abuse and illegal arms trade, the majority of troops have served commendably, and the UN’s mission in DRC has been praised as largely successful. Perhaps its greatest achievement was to help organize and monitor the DRC’s first democratic presidential, national and provincial elections (2006) in over 40 years. Since its establishment, MONUC has also successfully monitored ceasefires between the DRC and foreign governments, disarmed and repatriated thousands of combatants, provided substantial assistance in building democratic governmental institutions and assisted the government more recently in defeating and disarming a significant number of remaining armed groups in the Kivus and Ituri regions.

Before MONUC can be withdrawn, there are several critical preconditions set out by the Security Council that must be met by the DRC government. These include that all Congolese and foreign combatant groups be disarmed and demobilized, or repatriated, and that the Congolese Armed Forces, the FARDC, and the Congolese National Police have the capacity to assume responsibility for the country’s security. Specifically with regard to the establishment of a stable security environment, progress must be measured by the achievement of stabilization of sensitive areas, particularly in the eastern DRC; the completion of the disarmament and demobilization of former combatants and repatriation of foreign armed groups (the Democratic Forces for the Liberation of Rwanda (FDLR), Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA) and Interhamwe); the proper training of national security forces and the extension of State authority throughout the territory. In addition to security sector reform, the Security Council is explicit in requiring that the DRC reform its democratic institutions to include the adoption of essential legislation, relating to FARDC reform and the establishment of essential State institutions at the national, provincial and local levels.

Thus far, the DRC government has made progress with regards to the development of national institutions as well as with conducting fair elections; however, security challenges throughout the eastern DRC have impeded proper implementation of institutional reform throughout the country and have led to a major humanitarian crisis, with hundreds of thousands of civilians displaced. Most troubling is the ongoing violence against civilians by all parties of the conflict, particularly in the Kivus. This past year, the DRC government, with the somewhat controversial support of MONUC troops and the unprecedented assistance of Rwandan and Ugandan forces, launched a military campaign against rebel militias operating in eastern DRC and along the border areas. The campaign was mostly successful, as General Laurent Nkunda was arrested, and the majority of his militia was either killed or forced to surrender after fierce fighting for which the combatants were ill-prepared. In addition, the FARDC managed to repulse FDLR and LRA forces from several towns, restoring security in those areas. According to the UN, since the beginning of 2009, over 1,400 FDLR militants have surrendered, three times more than in previous years, and the objective of disrupting and dispersing FDLR forces in order to weaken their control of population centers and their capacity to exploit the country’s wealth was largely achieved.

However, even with the campaign’s recent successes, the rebel threat remains, as there are approximately 5,000 FDLR/Hutu rebels, as well as a significant number of LRA militants, still operating deep within the Eastern DRC. The task at hand for the FARDC is to maintain control of areas retaken from the rebels and continue an aggressive campaign that incorporates military pressure with incentives for disarmament. Although DRC government and military officials are confident in the FARDC’s ability to accomplish such goals, none can deny that its capacity to implement this final campaign is boosted by MONUC’s presence. In fact, the shifting of a significant number of MONUC’s troops to the Kivus as well as MONUC’s logistical support remains key to the FARDC’s continued success in defeating the rebels. If MONUC was to withdraw at this time, FARDC would lose its strategic advantage. In addition, its capacity to simultaneously maintain security in the Western and Southern parts of the country as well as in the Eastern DRC would be greatly diminished, leaving security forces spread too thinly and populations more susceptible to violence.

In addition to the obvious strategic and logistical problems resulting from a possible MONUC withdrawal, are the potential humanitarian consequences. There are serious concerns over the FARDC’s capability to protect civilian populations, as a number of its troops have been implicated in atrocious human rights violations. Human rights groups reported that during the military’s 2009 campaign, Congolese army soldiers, as well as FDLR militants, attacked civilians, accusing them of being collaborators. Some were attacked with machetes and others were shot while trying to flee. Homes were looted and then burnt, with families forced to remain inside. Witnesses reported that four civilians had been shot by FARDC soldiers who fired indiscriminately, while looting the area. There are also reports of FARDC soldiers engaging in illegal mining activities in the Kivus and extorting money from civilians through the imposition of illegal ‘taxes’. In fact, some civilians, fleeing from the violence, were forced to pay fines before being allowed to pass army checkpoints. There were additional reports of soldiers hijacking trucks delivering humanitarian aid, diverting it for military purposes. Perhaps most disturbing is the increase in sexual violence since 2008. Human Rights Watch reported that within the first nine months of 2009, there were 7,500 cases of sexual violence against women and girls in the Kivus. Most of the women were gang-raped and later died as a result of their injuries. In addition, many women were held as sex slaves, both by the FDLR and Congolese soldiers; some of these women were mutilated and then killed by machete or shot in the vagina. Cases of rape and other forms of sexual violence have not been restricted to poorly trained and lowly ranked soldiers and officers; senior military officers have also been implicated in cases of rape and murder.

As reports of FARDC’s human rights violations surfaced in 2009, criticism of MONUC’s support of military operations in the Kivus intensified. MONUC acknowledged the difficulties of executing a mandate that requires it to both protect civilians and assist an undisciplined army, and it took steps to limit its support of suspected human rights violators. For instance, MONUC made it clear to DRC government officials that it would not provide support to units commanded by Colonel Zimulinda and Bosco Ntanganda, who are both accused of serious human rights abuses. In addition, MONUC continues to provide training to Congolese army units in human rights and international humanitarian law. And although MONUC’s support of the Congolese army was criticized as undermining the mission’s primary objective, the protection of civilians, MONUC peacekeepers have been praised overall for their efforts while operating under very complex circumstances. Furthermore, MONUC’s presence in the Kivus certainly acted as part deterrent against those seeking to commit further crimes against civilians, as its peacekeepers deployed throughout the Kivus served, not only as logistical support, but as observers. Amidst continued allegations of abuse, MONUC command also recently deployed military police to several battalions with the objective of preventing and punishing acts of human rights violations. In addition, sensitization programs are ongoing for military leaders and troops on the issues of discipline, moral duty and the military hierarchy’s responsibilities.

Despite these reform initiatives, it is questionable whether further training can alleviate the proclivity of some DRC soldiers to commit heinous acts of violence. Many troops had already undergone rigorous training prior to the army’s recent campaign, but still abused their position regardless, perpetrating the most inhumane of acts. Furthermore, although thousands of soldiers have been imprisoned thus far for various crimes, a significant number of the soldiers suspected of human rights violations are still active members of the military, including senior officers. Hence, with an increasing number of displaced returning to Eastern DRC and civilians still subject to violence from all sides, MONUC’s removal is certain to have dangerous consequences, which makes the timing of the DRC’s request for MONUC’s withdrawal quite reckless and subsequently, rather confounding. The DRC government has yet to provide adequate explanation for the timing of its decision, which leads many to question its intentions. Some have speculated that the government’s demand for MONUC’s withdrawal is an attempt to convey its competency to its people in anticipation of the upcoming 2011 presidential and legislative elections. MONUC’s withdrawal also ensures greater control by the DRC government over the elections, which is worrying, given allegations that the military had forced civilians fleeing the violence to surrender their electoral cards. Without MONUC oversight, it is likely that ethnic-based fear and intimidation tactics will be employed during election time, particularly against opposition supporters, and at a much greater level than seen during the 2006 elections.

In May 2010, the UN Security Council will once again extend MONUC’s mandate, but for how long, remains to be seen. Its decision will certainly be influenced by political and legal considerations, particularly those that relate to state sovereignty. MONUC, like every other UN peacekeeping mission, operates with the consent of the government. Therefore, the DRC’s demand for MONUC’s removal, which is an exercise of state sovereignty, should be respected. However, as stated above, a premature withdrawal could have very serious consequences for the population. With MONUC’s mandate not yet fulfilled and the DRC’s security sector still requiring major reform, it seems that by requesting MONUC’s withdrawal, the DRC government is sacrificing the security of its population to achieve political ends. Recognizing such, the Security Council could extend MONUC’s mandate against the wishes of the DRC government, under the principle of the responsibility to protect. The principle of the responsibility to protect, or R2P, is based on the notion that sovereignty is not a privilege, but a responsibility, so when a government fails to protect the human rights of its people, the international community then has the responsibility of intervening on the people’s behalf. The R2P was first proposed in a report commissioned by the Canadian government in 2001, but did not gain formal recognition by the international community until the 2005 World Summit. The R2P was outlined in paragraphs 138 and 139 of the World Summit’s outcome document and has since been accepted in principle by much of the international community, as well as regional organizations. For instance, the African Union’s (AU) founding charter is explicit in its adoption of the principle, vowing to intervene when any member state of the AU fails to act in the event of grave circumstances (war crimes, genocide, crimes against humanity). Over the years, the R2P has become a widely accepted norm and can be exercised by the Security Council in the event that a state commits, or refuses to prevent, mass atrocities against its people. The Security Council, therefore, does have legitimate justification for denying the DRC government’s request. It could extend MONUC’s mandate, citing R2P. However, extending MONUC’s mandate against the will of the government could cause major resentment and hence, result in the loss of the DRC’s cooperation, which will make it difficult for MONUC troops to function. It is therefore imperative that the responsibility to protect only be enacted as a last resort. In addition, it would be difficult to argue that MONUC’s withdrawal would definitely result in mass atrocities; R2P’s enactment would be highly predictive at this point. However, the Security Council would certainly have cause to implement the principle if after MONUC’s withdrawal, violence increased significantly and the DRC government either failed or was unable to sufficiently respond.

In conclusion, at the International Institute for Justice and Development we say that:

1. Four million (4,000 000) plus people killed in the DRC’s war alone is enough! Everyone of must take their responsibilities. The safety and security of the DRC people should be of the utmost priority. Although progress has been made in the security sector, full DDR of combatants has not been achieved and as a result, a significant portion of the DRC population remains vulnerable to violence, not only by rebel forces but by government forces as well.
2. In addition to a lack of basic security, MONUC and the DRC government have yet to fulfill their mandate to establish widespread and sustainable democratic reform. In particular, the DRC is yet to establish a system of governance that guarantees separation of power between the legislative, judicial and executive branches. Institution reforms to establish an independent justice system, which is central to ensuring proper separation of powers, government accountability and transparency, are yet to be completed. Only through the reform of these systems can we combat corruption, demand accountability, protect human and civil rights abuses, secure investments, and create an incentive for educated and capable citizens to stay or come back to contribute to their DRC’s futures.
3. The International Institute for Justice and Development (IIJD) calls upon the DRC government to rescind its request for MONUC’s withdrawal. It also calls upon the UN Security Council, the AU and the greater international community to place pressure upon the DRC government to accept a mandate that realistically reflects and addresses the circumstances on the ground, not the political needs of the current government. Based on the R2P, the UN Security Council should extend the mandate of the MONUC at least until the next elections of 2011.
4. With the upcoming 2011 elections in the DRC, the IIJD cannot emphasize enough the importance of providing a safe and secure environment so that free and fair elections may take place. The IIJD believes that the DRC government currently lacks the capacity to provide sufficient security to guarantee free and fair elections.
5. Most importantly, the IIJD insists that if the DRC government under the leadership of President Joseph Kabila, refuses an extension of MONUC’s mandate, then it must accept full responsibility for any atrocities that may result and understand that it, meaning any or all of its members as well as its security forces, will be held accountable by the international community through the International Criminal Court (ICC).

Last August 2009, The International Institute for Justice and Development (IIJD), Inc. contacted your office requesting that you take a stronger stance against the dictatorial and illegal actions committed by President Tandja to systematically dismantling Niger’s democratic institutions. We are once more calling upon the United States government and the International community to help restore and strengthen democracy in Niger. The current situation began on February 18, 2010, when a faction of Niger’s military calling themselves the Supreme Council for the Restoration of Democracy (CSRD), staged a military coup, deposing Niger’s controversial president, and fledgling dictator, Mamadou Tandja, with the promise to restore the country’s recently dismantled democratic institutions.  

Although many are quick to criticize the CSRD’s actions, no one can deny that it was recent actions taken by Tandja that had essentially destroyed the democratic character and the institutional foundation of Niger’s government. In fact, Tandja’s actions over the course of the last several months amounted to nothing less than a coup d’état, as every one of Niger’s democratic institutions was illegitimately dissolved and the country’s constitution rewritten to allow Tandja to stay in power, perhaps indefinitely. Tandja’s short-lived dictatorship began in mid-2009 with his call to hold a referendum to adopt a new constitution, one which contained no presidential term limits. After the Constitutional Court of Niger ruled three times that any such referendum would be unconstitutional, Tandja simply dissolved the Court by way of presidential decree. Under the constitution, the dissolution of the Court is strictly prohibited by anyone, including the president, and judges cannot be removed until the end of their six-year term, which would have been in 2012. Article 36 of the 1999 Niger constitution specifically mandates that a president, elected for five-year terms, is eligible for only one re-election. Article 136 further specifies that “articles 36 and 141…of the present constitution cannot be subject to an amendment.” 

The Court was not the sole government body to fall victim to Tandja’s power grab. After the Court’s first ruling, Tandja once again invoked his executive powers and without any legal justification, dissolved The National Assembly, Niger’s parliament. With increasing parliamentary opposition to his referendum plan, Tandja ran the risk of being charged and tried for treason by the Assembly, through a specially formed ‘High Court’.  By June of 2009, Tandja had effectively dismantled both the judicial and legislative branches of government. In August, however, Tandja proceeded with the referendum, amidst the protest of hundreds of thousands and without the participation of opposition parties, which had staged a boycott. A new constitution was passed, one that provided Tandja with sweeping new powers, including the power to appoint one-third of the parliament’s members and to establish a media oversight body with the authority to jail journalists deemed a threat to national security. Term limits were also completely abolished, veritably securing Tandja’s path to dictatorship.  

Shortly before the referendum, the private radio station, ‘Dounia’ was shut down by Tandja’s government, after reportedly calling upon military forces to stop obeying Tandja. Soon afterwards, the military issued a statement declaring the army’s continued neutrality during the country’s political impasse. Interestingly, calls for the military to intervene stemmed not only from private entities, but from civil society organizations and opposition leaders, some of which were arrested as a result. The military gained the public’s trust in 1999 when its intervention played a key role in establishing the country’s first democratic government. The military’s refusal to intervene on the grounds of neutrality was at first questionable. Tandja himself had been a senior military officer, whose rise to power was largely the result of the 1999 military coup, leading most to conclude that his connection to the military, as well as its loyalty to him, was still arguably strong. Hence, the military’s initial complacence in the matter could certainly have been interpreted as tacit support. However, its refusal to intervene was also interpreted by many as an exercise in idealistic restraint. Although it had ample opportunity over the past year, the military did not act opportunistically, but instead chose to test the tenacity of the country’s civil institutions.   

On February 18, 2010, the military finally intervened. Although immediately condemned by much of the international community, the actions of the CSRD were quickly praised by a significant majority of Niger’s public as well as the Coordination of Democratic Forces for the Republic (CFDR), a group comprised of opposition political parties, labor organizations and human rights groups, formed last year to protest and challenge Tandja’s plans for referendum. While it is difficult to ascertain CSRD’s true motives at this point, there is good reason for cautious optimism regarding its intentions. First, the junta’s actions are an obvious response to the destruction of the state’s democratic institutions and the resulting civil strife.  Also relevant is the make-up of the junta, some of which were participants in the 1999 coup, so, in deposing Tandja, the junta actually acted against a former ally. In addition, the fact that they were members of the 1999 coup, which first led to the establishment of democratic order in the country, bodes well for their stated intention to restore democracy.

In the past weeks, the junta has taken some steps to reassure the public, as well as the international community, of its intentions. It has appointed an interim prime minister, a civilian, former Information Minister Mahamadou Danda. In addition, state institutions are now functioning, and most government ministers have returned to work, and business in the capital, as well as the rest of the country is proceeding without disruption. Furthermore, on February 26, the CSRD announced that no member of the junta, or the interim government that is currently being set up, will be permitted to run in the upcoming elections. 

In order for Niger to return to legitimate, democratic rule, constitutional order must be re-established. Therefore, the IIJD calls upon the CSRD and the interim government to immediately restore the 1999 constitution. The constitution imposed upon the country by Tandja in 2009 cannot be recognized as legitimate in any form, since its creation was the result of an unrepresentative and inherently flawed referendum. In addition to reestablishing the country’s 1999 constitution, an independent assessment of executive powers under the constitution should be immediately conducted to ensure proper separation of powers. This includes applying stricter language regarding the president’s power to rule by executive decree.  The IIJD specifically believes that the constitution should explicitly prohibit the president from using executive decree to dissolve the country’s Supreme Court, constitutional court and the National Assembly. Under no circumstances, should the president be permitted to dissolve either body. Furthermore, IIJD also calls upon the CSRD to immediately reinstate the National Assembly and constitutional court in its full form, prior to their dissolution by Tandja in 2009.   We also call upon the International Community to use this opportunity to apply pressure for a stronger separation of power between the branches of government, and especially strengthening the justice system of Niger and guaranteeing its independence.

Although Tandja acted illegally in rewriting the constitution, making the extension of his rule illegitimate, the junta too lacks any real legality in its rule.  Therefore, it must schedule presidential elections within a reasonable timeframe. The elections must be free, fair and transparent and organized by an independent electoral body. Given Niger’s success with holding legitimate elections over the past ten years, this should not be an issue; however, the importance of transparency, particularly after a military coup, can never be overstated. Hence, the IIJD strongly urges the CSRD and the interim government to include the international community, specifically the UN, in both restoring constitutional order and organizing and monitoring any upcoming elections. The IIJD also calls upon the international community to do its part in continuing to place pressure upon the interim regime to immediately restore constitutional order and Niger’s democratic institutions. In order to build a solid foundation for Niger, it essential that institutions reform be launched immediately to reinforce the separation of power between branches of government and to establish a strong independent and well functioning justice system even before presidential elections.

By guaranteeing free and fair elections, and ensuring that results are justifiable and recognized by all, the junta will have fulfilled its promise to its people, and to itself, to restore Niger’s democracy, thereby providing its country with hope for a more successful future; one that benefits the ambitions of all.

The IIJD strongly believes that the United States, along with the rest of international community, must do everything in its power to ensure the restoration of democracy and reinstatement of the 1999 constitution, the dissolved National Assembly, and the constitutional court. Without action, Niger is heading back towards the instable military and autocratic regime that plagued its people in past decades.

With Niger’s hard-won, yet still vulnerable democracy poised for possible destruction, the IIJD urges you, in line with the spirit of your speech in Ghana, to take firmer action to ensure that the 1999 constitutional order is restored and improved.

With my highest esteem and sincere considerations,

Benjamin Ngachoko

President & C.E.O.

International Institute for Justice and Development   

Since achieving independence from colonial powers, African nations have struggled to develop effective governmental institutions that serve the needs of their people, rather than the whims of tyrannical, power-driven individuals. Over the past few decades, improvements in governance have occurred in many African nations, particularly in West Africa. However, several countries still suffer from an over dominant executive, one which seeks to control and marginalize other branches of government. Left with few outlets for justice and little access and control over government activities, populations have become increasingly reliant upon national and local media to keep their governments ‘honest’. The media’s importance in exposing government corruption and other misdeeds, keeping populations informed and serving as a voice for the oftentimes oppressed cannot be understated, particularly during times of civil and political strife .

Nowhere is the need for an independent and free media needed in Africa than in Zimbabwe, which after almost thirty years under the Mugabe dictatorship, may finally see tangible political reforms—if only under the thinly veiled guise of democracy. Since 2002, Mugabe has implemented a veritable shutdown of the media, ensuring total control over the flow of information, particularly during the 2008 elections when Mugabe and his Zanu-PF supporters carried out a violent campaign to oppress opposition party members and supporters. After a power-sharing deal was achieved in 2008 between Mugabe’s Zanu-PF and Tsvangirai’s MDC party—a dangerous precedent for African governance in and of itself—both parties were tasked with working together to implement real reforms in order to gain legitimacy and to eventually have sanctions by the EU and the US partially lifted. Greater media freedom and access was one of the new power-sharing government’s guarantees. However, impediments to such freedom still exist, one of which being the failure of the government to establish an independent and impartial Media Commission.

The problem that thus exists is that new privately-owned media organizations cannot obtain a license to operate without approval from the Zimbabwe Media Commission (ZMC), which has yet to be established, although board appointees have been made. In October 2009, Zimbabwe Minister of Information George Charamba had announced that the ZMC would only be officially established when all other proposed commissions (Human Rights, Anti-Corruption and Electoral Commissions) were ready to be formed. Furthermore, the government’s other media bodies (Zimbabwe Broadcasting Corporation and the Zimbabwe Mass Media Trust), which regulate the vast state-owned media enterprise, continue to be controlled by Mugabe and the Zanu-PF. It has been reported that Mugabe recently made appointments of former military officials and spies to the boards of these media bodies, an apparent step to once again stymie impartiality and maintain significant media control. Another problem is that although the new ZMC is mandated by law to ensure greater media freedom, it will still be subject to the same laws and institutions that have worked to repress these freedoms in the past, particularly the Access to Information and Protection of Privacy Act (AIPPA). In addition, it doesn’t remove the influence of government over state-owned media and the information broadcast by such entities.

Under Mugabe’s reign, Zimbabwe’s civil institutions have always remained under threat of government reprisal; this includes the media, which has been predominantly government controlled since the establishment of the Zimbabwe Broadcasting Corporation (ZBC) in 1980. The ZBC currently operates the country’s only television and radio stations, under the umbrella of the also state-owned Zimbabwe Broadcasting Holdings (ZBH). During the 1990’s, however, Zimbabwe saw the expansion of its private media industry, which for the first time, provided the public an alternative to the government’s official take. Mugabe’s tolerance of more open media was short-lived however, as public discontent with his government and support for opposition parties, particularly the MDC began to grow. In 2001, with elections due within the year, Mugabe and the Zanu-PF began an oppressive campaign to silence the opposition; this included ensuring it had no voice within the media.

Mugabe’s crackdown on the media, beginning in 2001, was nothing short of draconian. In 2001, the Zanu-PF majority government passed the Broadcasting Services Act, which essentially prohibited the licensing of any other TV broadcasting agency by the ZBC. In practical terms, this meant that Joy TV, the only other television station in Zimbabwe, would lose its broadcasting license (Joy TV, a private television station, had initially leased its broadcast license from ZBC). Joy TV had been targeted by Mugabe’s regime for some time, as its popularity had grown and began to threaten the monopoly of ZBC. Joy TV was the only channel through which viewers could watch independent international news, the half-hour BBC world news. In fact, shortly before Joy TV was ordered off air in 2002, it had been instructed by the government to stop broadcasting BBC news.

The most significant blow to media freedom also came in 2002 with the passing of the Access to Information and Protection of Privacy Act (AIPPA), a misnomer at best. The act established the Media and Information Commission (MIC), which was now given sole authority to grant or deny operating licenses to media outlets. All media organizations and journalists were now required to apply for a one-year renewable license in order to operate. In addition, under the AIPPA, all journalists had to be Zimbabwean citizens and foreign correspondents would only be permitted to cover special events. Perhaps most significant, the new law now gave the government authority to shut down any organization, or arrest and charge any journalist, if arbitrarily found to have written libelous reports. The establishment of the AIPPA, largely criticized both domestically and internationally, led to the shut down of several privately owned newspapers, all critical of Mugabe; these included the Daily News, The Weekly Times and the Tribune. In addition, the Financial Gazette, Daily Mirror and Sunday Mirror were essentially taken over by the government, when the papers were forcibly sold to the government intelligence agency, the Central Intelligence Organization (CIO). Furthermore, many journalists, who courageously continued to operate in such a volatile and dangerous environment, were arrested and charged with committing ‘libelous acts’, while others, such as Zimbabwe Independent and The Standard newspaper publisher, Trevor Ncube, saw their Zimbabwean citizenship challenged, in an attempt by the government to have more independent newspapers shut down.

To make matters worse, Mugabe’s government passed two more oppressive laws in 2002: the Public Order and Security Act (POSA) and the General Laws Amendment Act. POSA assigned unprecedented powers to the police in arresting anyone caught undermining the authority of the president, engendering hostility towards him or making abusive, obscene or false statements against him. The law gave authorities even greater latitude to arrest journalists and opposition leaders, who now risked jail or being beaten or tortured for speaking out against the president. Then, the General Laws Amendment Act amended the country’s Electoral Act, placing significant obstacles in the way of those registering to vote and significantly diminishing the role and reach of foreign and other independent monitors. This left the public and the press with even less protection during elections in 2002 and in 2008, during which Mugabe, security forces and pro-Zanu-Pf mobs unleashed a torrent of violence against the opposition.

 ?With the signing of the power-sharing deal in 2008, both parties were now tasked with ensuring a more open and freer media, but almost two years into the deal, there seems to be little palpable progress. Mugabe still controls appointments of the boards of the ZBC and all state-controlled newspapers; journalists continue to be arrested for reporting stories critical of government and police action, and new newspapers cannot launch because the ZMC has yet to be officially formed, another delay tactic on the part of Mugabe’s government. Interestingly, a new pro-Mugabe newspaper, H-Metro, which obtained its license from the now defunct MIC, well over six months ago, was able to launch recently. However, the law states that MIC licenses are no longer good if not used within six months, further evidence that circumstances continued to favor pro-Zanu-Pf media. With appointees already approved by all parties involved, there is no legitimate reason for the delay in establishing the ZMC. Hence, the ZMC should be immediately established. The Commission should be permitted to operate without influence by any one political party, but should act with impartiality, particularly when approving licenses for new media organizations as well as those shut down during past media crackdowns by the Mugabe government.

Now although obtaining an operating license is a necessary first step for the media to currently function, it alone cannot guarantee free and fair media access in the current political and legal environment. The influence of the government over various media boards, including the ZMMT, and the array of laws that provide government unqualified authority to arbitrarily arrest journalists, continue to undermine real media reform. The entire government-media system, which is quite intricate, is designed to ensure that Mugabe’s government retains control over a restricted media environment. Therefore, true reform will only come with a complete overhaul of the system, starting with the dismantling of the ZMMT, whose original purpose was to ensure an impartial media, but has effectively become the head of a propaganda machine for the government. No government should have majority stake in its country’s media; therefore, the government should sell the bulk of its media holdings, with each of the sales approved by an impartial and independent commission. This would free the boards of most media entities from government control and would allow for greater media expansion, particularly television and radio, which have suffered the most restriction.

Also critical to creating an environment that protects and values its media, is the repeal of the AIPPA, which has already been ruled by the African Commission on Human and People’s Rights (ACHPR) as being contrary to the values upheld by the African Charter on Human and People’s Rights, to which Zimbabwe is a signatory. Also significant, the ACHPR found compulsory licensing or accreditation of media organizations and journalists itself to be a restriction upon freedom of press and expression, so the legality of the ZMC and its authority to grant licenses has also been placed into question. In addition to a repeal of the AIPPA, the government should the Broadcasting Services Act, which places even greater restrictions upon the media and its ability to operate without government control. For instance, it states, rather ridiculously, that no individual shall own more than a 10 percent of a radio station. Another extremely oppressive law that must be repealed is POSA, which essentially serves as the base of this restrictive media regime. The act, which serves no legitimate purpose, has been used by police and government security forces to excessively curtail freedom of association, assembly, speech and expression. Although POSA is currently under review, the proposed amendment does little to erode the unconstitutional character of the act. Total repeal is the only guarantee that the government and police will not have justification to continue to act capriciously.

An assessment of the current government-media system in Zimbabwe reveals the difficulties with creating an environment that allows for greater media access and freedom. A free and fair media is essential however to ensuring the country’s democratic processes are also free and fair and that all parties are held accountable or their actions. To establish an open media, one free from government control, the separation of government powers, among the executive, legislature and judiciary, must be clearly delineated and upheld at all costs. In countries where the ruling government also has the legislative majority, it is through the judiciary that freedoms must be protected. Unfortunately, this is easier said than done, as strong and abusive executives rarely uphold the decisions of a weak judiciary. However, as is the case in Zimbabwe, continued international and regional pressure, as well as pressure from NGOs, human rights groups and domestic organizations, can influence governments, particularly when economic interests are being threatened. Therefore, it is imperative that the international community and regional powers persist with their demands for real reform in Zimbabwe, reform that promotes and protects a vigorous and open media. 

The IIJD has responded to the crisis in Somalia with the hope of galvanizing the international community to act toward sustainable peace in this region of East Africa. We call upon all those with the capacity for change in Somalia to take efforts toward a just and expedient solution to this bloody conflict.

UPDATED: The IIJD continues its call for action to release journalist Fatou Jaw Manneh, who was held by the Gambian government on charges of sedition after giving a critical interview accusing the president of inaction and betrayal. The day before her trial recommenced on June 27th, her charges were amended “to false publication with intent to cause alarm and fear in society and uttering seditious words.” This provides hope for those working to help Manneh, because according to The Gambia Echo, amending a charge translates to a lesser penalty in the case of conviction. However, this amendment also indicates foul play on the part of the prosecution that knows it cannot win on the original charges of sedition and so is moving to a misdemeanor charge that it feels it can win.

On June 27, the second prosecution witness, Mr. Basiru Gassama, completed his testimony against Manneh, reading excerpts of the interview for which Manneh was charged with sedition, citing her criticism and frustration with the Gambian president Yahya Jammeh and her insinuation that he should be replaced. However, it became apparent in his testimony that he did not posses the vocabulary necessary to understand the meaning of many of Manneh’s comments, and merely understood that she was criticizing his president in a way he didn’t agree with. In an important development, the judge in the Kanifing Magistrate’s Court has ruled that the charges brought against Manneh are offenses in the Gambia, and that it should be transferred from the Kanifing Magistrates’ Court to the Banjul Magistrate’s court according to the Daily Observer in Banjul. The Judge in Kanifing felt the jurisdiction of the Banjul Magistrate’s court is better equipped to hear the case because that is where the article was first read and where the sedition charge was first voiced. The trial continues in Banjul, and Fatou Jaw Manneh remains in the Gambia as her trial moves forward.

Click here to read the Letter to the Gambian Ambassador to the UN – April 2007

Click here for an update on the Freedom of Speech Tried in Gambia – May 2007

In light of recent developments after the elections in the DRC, the IIJD calls upon the international community to set high standards for future elections. Doing this will ensure that other countries will not have the same difficulties that the DRC is having right now.