France

This is a guest post by Allen Grane, intern for the Council on Foreign Relations Africa Studies program. Allen is currently an officer in the Army National Guard. His interests are in Africa, conflict, and conflict resolution. Recently we have seen a great amount of social awareness and dissent among Nigerian’s regarding how the government has handled the conflict with Boko Haram. The impetus for this reaction has been the kidnapping of over 300 schoolgirls from four towns in Borno State: Izge, Lassa, Ashigashiya and Warabe. Within Nigeria there have now been protests in Kaduna, Abuja, and as far south as Lagos. Through the use of social media these protests have now spread across the world to include Washington and New York City. On May 3, activists in New York City organized an event in Manhattan’s Union Square Park around the viral social media tag #bringbackourgirls. The event had a turnout of an estimated 300 people. The goal of these people was to bring awareness of the issues facing the Nigerian people to the U.S. public. Interestingly, the protest in New York took on a Pan-African dimension. The New York City organizers identified themselves as South African and Zimbabwean. Many of the people in attendance were from other African nations. They all stressed that they empathized with the Nigerian people as fellow Africans and that they stood with them in support to chants of “we support all Africans.” The protesters questioned the actions of Boko Haram and the Nigerian government, but also why there has been a lack of western media coverage and concern. In the past social media campaigns have successfully raised awareness and caught the attention of governments. It appears that the current social media campaign and protests in and outside of Nigeria have succeeded in pressuring the Nigerian government and drawing the attention of foreign powers. The Nigerian government has asked for international help and the White House has announced that it will be sending advisors to help the Nigerian government. China along with France, Canada, and the United Kingdom have also pledged their support to help the Nigerian government in its efforts to find and rescue the kidnapped girls. Hopefully, this international involvement can help turn this situation around.

This is a guest post by Alex Dick-Godfrey, program coordinator, Studies administration for the Council on Foreign Relations Studies Program. International peacekeeping missions in Sudan and South Sudan received a lot of bad press last week from a number of different sources. Together these reports challenge a basic tenant of United States (U.S.) policy toward Africa–that peacekeeping missions, in their current form, work. On foreignpolicy.com, a three-part investigative report by Colum Lynch outlines the failure of the African Union/United Nations (UN) hybrid operation (UNAMID) in Darfur, Sudan. The series explores how the Sudanese government has continued to actively hamper peacekeepers, how the United States ignored the mission after moving it through the UN Security Council, and even how the UN sabotaged its own efforts to stem the violence. The central argument of the report is that, despite initial enthusiasm, the UN and its partners categorically failed to protect civilians in Darfur. Second, Medicines Sans Frontieres sharply criticized the UN Mission in the Republic of South Sudan (UNMISS), calling it “shameful” that the mission hasn’t improved the “squalid” conditions at the Juba base and camp. As the rainy season begins, conditions at the camp are likely only to deteriorate. UNMISS, instead of improving the camp, is trying to move the residents to another camp, which has yet to happen. Third, “South Sudan: A Civil War by Any Other Name,” released by the International Crisis Group (ICG), discusses how the UNMISS is outgunned and outmanned. Currently UNMISS is protecting seventy thousand internally displaced persons at its bases. This is a mission that is not explicitly in its mandate and for which it is ill-equipped. The ICG report recommends that the mandate, which currently aims to “consolidate peace and security” and “establish conditions for development,” be amended to emphasize the protection of civilians and that it support the Inter-Governmental Authority on Development’s mediation process and forthcoming stabilization force. However progress on the mediation, and the promised stabilization force, has been slow. The UN missions in Sudan and South Sudan share at least two characteristics: strong initial political support to “do something;” and waning or non-existent material and political support from international organizations and countries as attention turns elsewhere. This pattern is all too familiar. The UN recently approved another African peacekeeping mission in the Central African Republic (CAR). It should remember the lesson from Sudan and South Sudan. That lesson? More is required to bring about real change in these crises then simply passing a security resolution and sending peacekeepers. Inconsistent, poorly funded, knee-jerk reactions by the UN to these crises will likely only further complicate the political landscape. Ineffective missions also unfortunately smack of international partners trying to ease guilty consciences. To move effectively toward peaceful resolutions, each mission should first identify achievable goals and a clear strategy. Once those exist, send the peacekeepers. Try to establish a tenable security situation. But then sustain the mission with the equipment, training, and weaponry needed to fulfill the mandate. Without that follow-through, UN missions in countries and regions like Darfur, South Sudan, and CAR are likely to fail.

This is a guest post by Emily Mellgard, research associate for the Council on Foreign Relations Africa Studies program. Elections are often seen as progress toward democracy in Africa. Elections confer legitimacy on governments, especially abroad. However, in some conflicts, conducting elections credible enough to confer legitimacy is an unrealistic goal. Instead there are “election-like-events.” These may even exacerbate internal cleavages within a society. Rushing into elections in the Central African Republic will not resolve the breakdown of order there and could make it worse. When the CAR was a French colony, Paris left the regions outside Bangui largely undeveloped and did little to promote a common identity between the capital and its hinterland. That pattern persisted long after independence from France in 1960. In December 2012 and January 2013, when a loose coalition of rebels from the northern region, and guns for hire from Chad and Darfur came together and marched on Bangui, it was to demand more resources for marginalized communities –and for themselves. President Francoise Bozize’s government fell to these rebels in March 2013. Since then the country has been in a state of deepening chaos. The victorious rebels (called Seleka) were disbanded, but that merely released its operatives from any semblance of government control. They thereupon resorted to banditry, rape, murder, and pillaging the communities surrounding the capital. In response to months of ex-Seleka violence, some southern communities armed themselves, forming community level anti-balaka (anti-machete) militias who protected their communities, attacked the former Seleka rebels, and carried out attacks against communities seen to be allied with them. In January 2014, Michel Djotodia, a Seleka leader who had installed himself as interim president, was in turn forced from office by a domestic coalition abetted by some neighboring states and France. He had failed to halt the escalating violence. In the void left by his departure, anti-balaka fighters stepped up their own attacks, forcing many of the former Seleka fighters from Bangui. A massive refugee exodus has resulted. The CAR’s neighbors, former colonial power France, the AU, and the UN are seeking a credible CAR partner to end the chaos. Catherine Samba-Panza was, on January 20, elected the new interim president by the Transitional National Assembly, itself of only limited reach and credibility. It has given her one year to restore order and to organize and hold national elections. But elections in such a short timeframe are likely to exacerbate the CAR’s internal conflicts that still show little sign of diminishing. To focus solely on electing a new president at all costs only strengthens the impression that the presidency is the sole arbiter of power and legitimacy. Accusations by parts of the UN system and some international NGOs that “genocide” and “ethnic cleansing” are underway further poison the political climate among the population. The CAR military has all but disintegrated. The peacekeepers currently on the ground in the CAR (1,600 French troops and approximately 5,500 AU troops, mostly from Chad and Rwanda) lack the numbers, resources, and mandate to restore and maintain order. They remain encamped in Bangui, while the rural areas are overrun by competing militias and bandit groups. The previous voting registries have largely been lost or destroyed in the breakdown of order over the past year. Some regions lack any history of elections, in others elections have not been held in over a decade, and in still others, elected officials prefer to remain in Bangui rather than carry out their responsibilities in rural areas. Louisa Lombard recently published in African Arguments the proposition of working instead for local elections rather than rushing for national elections. It seems likely that only when local communities are engaged can the nation as a whole move toward reconciliation and elections that reflect a national consensus. But, even local elections will require relative security. That reality will require international provision of more resources, likely including boots on the ground. In an era of “rhetorical enthusiasm” but “action fatigue,” will they be forthcoming?

The Central African Republic’s National Transitional Council (NTC) elected Catherine Samba-Panza as interim president on January 20. She has been serving as interim mayor of the Central African Republic (CAR) capital, Bangui. (Those multiple “interims” are a sign that formal government has almost entirely broken down.) Though she is a Christian, Samba-Panza has no links with the warring Christian and Muslim militias. An insurance broker born in 1954, the media reports that she is widely respected and essentially politically neutral. The media also reports that she is popular because of her gender; many hold the succession of male politicians as responsible for the current mess. And a mess it remains. Killings by Christian and Muslim militias continue. UN officials are talking about the potential for “genocide.” The situation in the CAR does not appear to fit the legal definition of “genocide,” though the killings are extensive and horrific. There are even reports in  the media of ritual cannibalism in downtown Bangui. In addition to the conflict there are also major ongoing issues regarding access to basic necessities. A truckers’ strike is interrupting relief deliveries. The World Food Program announced that it is running short of food. The CAR now appears to be getting the attention of the international community. The European Union foreign ministers have voted to send five hundred European Union troops to the country. This would be in addition to the 4,000 African Union troops and 1,600 French troops already on the ground. Interim president Samba-Panza’s job description appears to be to put the lid back on the cauldron, to get the violence down and steer the country toward plausible elections next year. This is a tall order. There are only two other African female heads of state: Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf of Liberia and Joyce Banda of Malawi. Banda’s succession in Malawi was orderly, while Johnson-Sirleaf in effect had to pick up the pieces of a failed state. She benefitted from significant international assistance. Though her performance has not been flawless, overall, she has been remarkably successful under the circumstances. The same is to be hoped for Catherine Samba-Panza. But to have even a chance of success, the UN, AU, France, and the CAR’s other allies will need to rally around and support the Central African Republic.

This is a guest post by Emily Mellgard, research associate for the Council on Foreign Relations Africa Studies program. Michel Djotodia’s long held political aspirations came to an ignominious end last week when he resigned as the Central African Republic’s (CAR) chief of state and went into exile in Benin. Prime Minister Nicolas Tiengaye also stepped down. The 135 members of the Transitional National Council (TNC), many of whom were appointed by Djotodia, were flown to the Chadian capital N’Djamena to attend a summit of the leaders of the Economic Community of Central African States (ECCAS). The Central African Constitutional Court and ECCAS have charged the TNC with selecting the new leadership of the CAR. They have fifteen days. Whoever is selected as interim president will be ineligible to run in the next elections. Alexandre Ferdinand Nguendet, the head of the TNC, is expected to be among those who put their names forward. Full elections are to be held by February 2015. There were celebrations in the capital Bangui on the announcement of Djotodia’s resignation. Their rapid degeneration into violence and score settling, however, highlights that little has changed. While the TNC deliberates, the majority of Central Africans continue to struggle with the consequences of government failure. Violence, chaos, poverty, and disease are rife. Nearly one million people have been displaced by the current round of fighting, over two million (half the population) are in need of humanitarian assistance, and over one thousand have been killed. Ex-Seleka (“Alliance”) and rival anti-balaka (“anti-machete”) militias, as well as local vigilantes scour the country. A tent city has sprung up in the shadow of the camp for the France’s 1,600 peacekeeping troops outside Bangui as residents flee continued violence. The camp grew more than five-fold from mid-December and currently shelters over 100,000 people. Others are disbursed throughout the country, fearful of returning home. Doctors Without Borders says hygiene is a “disaster” and “epidemics of all sorts” are highly likely. Nguendet’s recent statement that “the anarchy [is] over” is false. Whatever the culmination of the current discussions within the TNC, any successor government will be hard pressed to reverse the state failure. While politicians, and even some militia leaders, appear to be fully engaged in wrangling for their own power, the CAR continues to implode. David Smith, a regional expert, suggested in South Africa’s Daily Maverick that a UN transitional administration, such as was set up in Kosovo, might be the best option to ensure long term national stability and reconciliation in contrast to another short term political stop-gap. With the growing concern of a potential repeat of the Rwandan genocide in 1994, the international community and the African Union should give serious consideration to Smith’s suggestion. In addition to Kosovo, Namibia is a successful African precedent for a UN transitional administration during its transition from South African rule to full independence in 1990.

Last week, a French Catholic priest, Georges Vandenbeusch, was kidnapped in northern Cameroon. According to the local Roman Catholic bishop, some fifteen gunmen invaded the priest’s compound looking for money. A nun working in the community said the kidnappers spoke English, not French, the predominant European language in that part of Cameroon. A Cameroonian official says that Fr. Vandenbeusch has been spirited away to Nigeria. An anonymous sources, quoted by France-24, claims that the operation was joint between Boko Haram and Ansaru. Ansaru has previously carried out the kidnapping of Europeans for ransom. The priest was kidnapped in the same area of Cameroon as a French family in February. That family was released after the rumored payment of a U.S. $3 million ransom, according to the BBC, citing a confidential Nigerian government report. However, it is not clear who paid the ransom; the French government denies that it pays ransoms. Ansaru and Boko Haram have not cooperated in operations since they split in January 2012. Ostensibly, Ansaru split because it objected to the large number of Muslims among Boko Haram’s victims. It is plausible, however, that with increased Nigerian government pressure on Boko Haram, it is willing to cooperate with Ansaru on highly lucrative kidnapping activities and perhaps on other operations. If so, then the Boko Haram insurgency in the north may be entering a new phase.

Two French journalists working for Radio France Internationale, Ghislaine Dupont and Claude Verlon, were kidnapped in Kidal in northern Mali on November 3. Shortly thereafter, and only seven miles from where they were abducted, they were murdered. In a blog I posted on November 4, I expressed surprise that the two were not held for ransom. Ransom is an important income stream for jihadist groups operating in the Sahel. According to the French media, the four French hostages held for three years in Niger were released in October upon the payment of U.S.$27 million, though the French government says that it did not pay a ransom. On November 6, al-Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb (AQIM) issued a statement claiming responsibility for the murder of the journalists. It was published by a Mauritanian news agency and picked up by Deutsche Welle. In it, AQIM claims that the murders were retaliation for a French “new crusade” in Mali. I would have thought that kidnapping for ransom would be a more profitable form of “retaliation” than murder. Associated Press, however, reports a plausible explanation. It quotes an unnamed Mali intelligence officer as saying that the kidnapping was done by low-level jihadists attempting to “please al-Qaeda operatives in the Islamic Maghreb after being accused of stealing money.” The French government says it is sticking to its timetable for withdrawing its troops from Mali despite the upsurge in violence in the north. The episode would appear to be an example of the intersection of the criminal and the political that persists in northern Mali and elsewhere in the Sahel region.

It is not so surprising that Radio France Internationale journalist and sound engineer Claude Verion and colleague Ghislaine Dupont were kidnapped on November 2 in the northern Mali town of Kidal. The kidnapping of foreigners in the Sahel is, if not frequent, then also not uncommon. The question is, however, why were they murdered and not held for ransom? According to Radio France Internationale (RFI), Deutsche Welle (DW), and the Voice of America (VOA), the two journalists were kidnapped shortly after they concluded an interview with a leader of the MNLA, a Tuareg separatist group. Quoting the French foreign ministry, RFI reports the two were taken by a group of armed men. An MNLA spokesman is quoted by VOA as saying the captors killed the journalists and French troops found their bodies a short distance from Kidal. Apparently, they were murdered shortly after they were seized. No group or organization has claimed responsibility. Criminal groups and jihadists operating in the Sahel (including northern Mali) have grown fat from the ransoms paid for the release of European kidnap victims. Hence the kidnapping of the two French journalists fits a pattern. What does not fit is their murder. Kidnap victims are sometimes held for a long time. Last week, four French men were released in Niger after having been held for more than three years. While never openly reported, the common supposition is that most kidnap victims are released upon the payment of ransom. Ransoms constitute an important revenue stream for jihadists in the Sahel as well as a variety of smuggling and other criminal syndicates active in the region. Official American and British government policy is to never pay ransom. Not so among some European states, and private corporations have long been suspected of paying ransom for their captive citizens and/or employees. American and British policy and practice may reduce the attractiveness of their citizens to kidnappers. On the other hand, kidnappers will kill their victims when it is clear that no ransom is forthcoming. That can constitute formidable pressure on governments to pay. So, if ransom was not the motive, why were Verion and Dupont killed? The French and Malian governments have launched an inquiry and a search for the perpetrators. The UN Security Council has called on Mali to “swiftly investigate the case” and to hold the perpetrators to account. But, in northern Mali where jihadist and other violence continues, infrastructure is poor, and the government weak or non-existent. The likelihood of learning the truth behind this tragic episode is remote.

The Tuareg rebels and the Malian government reached a peace agreement in June that allowed Mali’s August elections to go forward. They–generally regarded as free and fair–resulted in the election of President Ibrahim Boubacar Keita, who has now been inaugurated. At the end of September, however, three separatist Tuareg groups announced that they are suspending their participation in the peace process with the government. They accuse the Bamako government of failing to live up to promises made in June. They provide no specifics, and neither the Keita government nor the UN peacekeeping mission has commented on the suspension. Post-independence Mali has had difficulty integrating the northern Tuaregs and the southern, more ethnically diverse, ethnic groups. Numerous failed agreements between successive Bamako governments and northerners have led to widespread dissatisfaction and disillusionment, punctuated by revolt. In 2012, such a revolt in the north morphed into a jihadist attack that was driven back by French and other African forces. Now, with the suspended talks, Mali’s friends must ask if history is repeating itself. Keita’s rhetoric calls for justice and democracy, but the political-economic structures that provoked the latest round of northern rebellion are still in place. Joris Levernik in Think Africa Press places contemporary events in a wider Malian context. He suggests that Mali’s essentially false reputation as a democracy made it a donor darling. Foreign assistance flowed in, freeing the political class from accountability. Over time, an economy based on donor assistance and the export of gold, cotton, and other primary commodities acquired an enlarged criminal dimension, including smuggling, the kidnapping of Westerners, and the narcotics trade. The profits were so huge in a very poor country that more and more of the political class participated and was compromised. Meanwhile, he argues, marginalization of the north continued. The rest, as it were, is history: a 2012 rebellion in the north that initially seemed to follow the traditional pattern, a coup in Bamako when the government responded incompetently, and the emergence of a radical Islamic jihad that was reversed by French and other foreign troops. The donors, Levernik continues, wanted early elections to restore ostensibly democracy that would permit the renewal of assistance flows. Hence the donors led by the French and the Americans, pressed for early elections. But, Levernik concludes, “elections do not equal democracy, aid does not equal economy, an end to the fighting does not equal peace, and promises do not equal development.” The jury must still be out on Mali. It is very early days for the Keita administration, though thus far other than rhetoric there is little indication that the “system” that led to the current crisis has much changed.