Civil Society

On June 9, following a closed-door meeting, the Northern Elders Forum (NEF) issued a public statement that the Igbo-dominated southeast should be allowed to secede from the Federal Republic of Nigeria if it was necessary to avoid a civil war. NEF spokesman Hakeem Baba-Ahmed said “the Forum has arrived at the difficult conclusion that if support for secession among the Igbo is as widespread as it is being made to look, and Igbo leadership appears to be in support of it, then the country should be advised not to stand in the way.” His statement continued that secession was not in the best interest of the Igbos or of Nigerians. Rather, all should work to rebuild Nigeria. But, blocking secession “will not help a country already burdened with failures on its knees to fight another war to keep the Igbo in Nigeria.” The statement also suggested that northerners subject to harassment in the southeast should return to the north. There was no reference to secessionist sentiment in Yorubaland, in southwest Nigeria, to which former President Olusegun Obasanjo has referred. The former president said that Yoruba secession, too, would be unwise, but that maintaining unity should not come “at any cost.” Though there is no specific reference to it, clearly animating the NEF statement is the memory of Nigeria’s 1967-70 civil war, successfully fought by Nigerian nationalists to keep Igbo-dominated Biafra in the federation; it left up to two million dead. It, too, involved massive population movements, with Igbos fleeing to the south a northern pogrom and fewer northerners leaving the southeast. In the civil war, northern elites strongly supported the nationalists. Current Igbo disgruntlement has its roots in defeat in the civil war and the belief that they are marginalized from the upper reaches of the Nigerian state. (There has never been an Igbo president of Nigeria.) Such feelings of marginalization are exacerbated by Nigeria’s nationwide epidemic of violence and economic malaise. The NEF, for its part, has responded to rising insecurity in Nigeria by calling for President Buhari to resign or to be impeached. Resignation or impeachment is a reversal of the NEF’s support of Muhammadu Buhari’s presidential candidacy in 2015. It should be noted that the NEF statement in support of allowing secession had two caveats: that there be widespread support for it among the Igbo but also among their “leadership” (not further defined). While secessionist advocates will argue to the contrary, prima facie evidence for both either way is thin. Do the views of the NEF matter? How representative is it of northern elite opinion? Buhari’s Special Adviser on Media Femi Adesina responded to its June 9 statement by dismissing the NEF as “a mere irritant” that hardly exists beyond its convener, Ango Abdullahi—a distinguished, former vice chancellor (president) of Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria. According to Adesina, the former vice chancellor is a general with no troops. Indeed, the influence of the NEF is hard to judge. But, its public statements attract widespread media attention. As with former President Obasanjo’s comments on Yoruba separatism, at the very least the NEF statements is an indication that rising insecurity is leading at least some of Nigeria’s elites to rethink the basis of the Nigerian state—and of the consequences of its civil war.

Benjamin Zawacki is a senior program specialist with the Asia Foundation’s office in Thailand, focused on regional security and cooperation, and the author of Thailand: Shifting Ground between the US and a Rising China. The Council on Foreign Relations acknowledges the Ford Foundation for its generous support of this project. China’s Belt and Road Initiative (BRI) means many things to many people—including to the Chinese. Introduced by President Xi Jinping in 2013, just a year into his term, it was most precisely translated into English as “One Belt, One Road.” With the intended meaning lost in translation, however, it was reprised as the BRI and explained as an overland “belt” and a maritime “road.” Both would run from eastern China and converge, eventually and circuitously, in Venice, Italy. While the belt generally runs west by northwest, with its route on a map appearing as a long lower-case “z,” the maritime road is literally all over that map: It runs southwest down China’s coast and through the South China Sea, west by series of zigs and zags across the Indian Ocean, then north by northwest via the Red and Mediterranean Seas. And those are just the main streams of the project; the tributaries spread out, double back, and link up like circuitry. At any given time, the number of countries said to be participating in the BRI varies—but almost always grows—and with them does the number of projects that constitute, connect, and expand the initiative. The breadth of BRI is further complicated by Beijing’s having empowered Chinese provinces (such as southern Guangxi and Yunnan provinces bordering Vietnam, Laos, and/or Myanmar), as well as state-owned enterprises, to negotiate and designate BRI projects with other countries on their own. In rare cases, such as in Australia’s Victoria province, this empowerment is reciprocal. Yet, what constitutes the projects themselves has also been an ever-evolving matter, and with it—crucially—the very nature and purpose of the BRI. In other words, what is it? By most accounts, the Belt and Road Initiative was introduced to advance “connectivity” between China and its neighbors, and via its neighbors with places further afield, primarily through traditional infrastructure like roads and railways, seaports and airports, bridges and tunnels, and pipelines and canals. Underlying the concept was the promotion of economic growth, whereby investment in transportation would lead to increases in trade, tourism, and other income-generating activity for all involved. China’s own meteoric economic growth over previous decades, partly the result of having done domestically what it aimed to do abroad, added credibility to its idea that BRI would spark growth in other countries. Analysts were quick to point out, however, that a lot of infrastructure is “dual use;” that it might have military as well as commercial uses. China’s denial of such intentions, particularly vis-à-vis Sri Lanka’s Hambantota port and more recently Cambodia’s Ream Naval Base, have not quieted foreign states’ concerns about the potential dual use of BRI projects. To the contrary, they have led to increased challenges on geopolitical grounds, whereby China is seen as extending not only its patronage abroad but its presence in strategically sensitive areas as well. The case of Hambantota, of which China took possession in 2017 after Sri Lanka failed in its loan obligations, gave rise to accusations of the BRI’s “debt trap diplomacy.” While this idea that China’s BRI projects trap recipient countries in debt has been challenged by researchers at a wide range of institutions, it is still a dominant narrative in Washington and elsewhere. Moreover, at least as early as 2015, when it established the Lancang-Mekong Cooperation (LMC) forum, China has broadened BRI projects beyond physical infrastructure. The LMC’s earliest public statements expressly placed its very founding, meetings, agreements, and initiatives under the rubric of the BRI. This in turn has brought to the fore questions concerning Chinese influence, in addition to its more concrete economic, security, or geopolitical interests. Beijing doubled down on broadening BRI beyond physical infrastructure, introducing in 2016 a “Digital Silk Road” (DSR) in addition to the original BRI. This Digital Silk Road would promote fifth generation (5G) mobile internet capacity, particularly in countries behind or lacking in such critical twenty-first century technology, as well as other new technologies including smart cities, fintech systems, and others. At the same time, the inception of the DSR raised fears that it could enable the mining and utilization of data belonging or relating to foreign citizens, and that China would export its cybersecurity laws and other internet controls to foreign countries. Influence of perhaps a more welcome nature appeared in 2019, when in response to foreign criticism regarding environmental impacts, President Xi introduced the “Green BRI.” According to Beijing, BRI projects would henceforth account for environmental and ecological concerns, and in some cases be expressly designed to respond to them. Optimists welcomed this as imperative amidst growing alarm at climate change; pessimists judged it a rhetorical device that would not be followed by action. This past year, in the midst of a pandemic that originated in China, Beijing’s leadership further began promoting a new “Health Silk Road” to promote its “mask diplomacy” and make available its COVID-19 vaccine beyond its borders. The BRI in Thailand The BRI’s evolution, and the ambiguity of the overall project, are critical to understanding how BRI operates in Thailand. To a greater degree than in most other Southeast Asian countries, the BRI’s evolution and ambiguity are reflective of the project’s relationship with Thailand and with Thai civil society. This paper presents five main points concerning the ways in which Thai civil society has both challenged and been challenged by the BRI, resulting in a kind of split verdict as to the initiative’s present and future standing in the kingdom. First is that civil society in Thailand cannot interact with what it cannot identify. There is no single understanding of the BRI in Thailand and certainly no prevailing narrative concerning the BRI’s nature, purpose, and effects. This is symbolized by confusion as to when Thailand officially became a participating country and as to which projects count as part of BRI. Thais agree that the high-speed rail project, running from the Thai-Lao border to Bangkok and continuing south to its border with Malaysia, is a BRI project—in no small part because the rail actually starts in China and ends in Singapore. Yet on the one hand, the Thai section was agreed in concept and principle as far back as 2010, three years before the BRI was announced; on the other hand, Thailand did not appear on most BRI maps for several years after that 2013 announcement. And for a brief temporary period in 2016, Thai Prime Minister General Prayuth Chan-ocha actually canceled the project. Furthermore, the rail line is one of the few projects in the kingdom that Beijing and Bangkok agree is actually part of the BRI. A list from inside China in early 2019 contained seven BRI projects in Thailand, although most had not been notably publicized as part of the initiative, and several hardly publicized at all. Conversely, the high-profile Eastern Economic Corridor (EEC) and the rail network linking Bangkok’s two airports with U-Tapao Airport, were not listed. Nor was a potential canal across Thailand’s southern isthmus, despite press reports in Thailand going back to 2017 that it was being discussed as a possible BRI project. Of course, a project need not be considered part of the BRI for Thai civil society to promote or oppose it, or to seek more information or provide its points of view. But given the various conceptions of the BRI discussed above, as well as its close association with a larger but equally complex and contested “Brand China,” it stands to reason that the BRI label makes a difference in how Thai civil society views a project. Whether this ambiguity concerning projects’ BRI status is intentional or incidental is related to a second main point: Thai policymakers and business partners cannot help but be influenced by the approach of their Chinese counterparts, and China’s approach simply does not include an express role for civil society. While protests and petitions in China concerning infrastructure projects, particularly at a local level, are far more numerous than is generally reported, neither China’s various levels of government nor its state-backed banks and business are encouraged—much less required—to consult or consider views on the ground.[1] This is not to suggest that, while U.S. companies might expressly condition certain projects on social, human rights, or environmental impact assessments, Chinese liaisons would expressly prohibit them. Rather, the fact that China’s civil society does not generally see itself as a monitor or watchdog of the government, means that it is simply not factored into the equation on the Chinese side of the table. Civil society participation would need to be proactively introduced by the Thai side on any BRI project. This would invariably infuse the prospect of delays into a project’s timing and even doubts as to its viability, which generally disadvantages a negotiation. Add to this that Thailand has had either a military or military-backed government since 2014, just a year after the BRI’s introduction. The Thai governments’ own efforts to silence critical voices, centralize policy and power, and privilege big businesses and mega-projects in growing Thailand’s economy, have only signaled a stronger receptiveness to China’s state-driven approach. Indeed, in a recent book, Rivers of Iron: Railroads and Chinese Power in Southeast Asia, the authors note that the Thai government’s prioritization of the Eastern Economic Corridor over the high-speed rail, may be partly on account of the rail’s location in the stronghold of the military’s electoral, civil society, and grassroots opponents.[2] China’s high growth rates at home also are attractive to Thailand. After long periods of high growth in the 1970s, 1980s, and early 1990s, Thailand’s own yearly growth has ranged from just 1 percent to 4.2 percent since 2014.[3] Yet at times Thai policymakers, even under military governments, have pushed back against aspects of BRI projects. Regarding the high-speed rail at least, the Thai government has arguably achieved much of what might otherwise be expected of civil society. The State Railway of Thailand took the lead in summarily denying China’s request for development rights along the rail’s right-of-way and on the land on either side of its route. Controversy over whether Chinese engineers would be permitted to work in Thailand was also largely driven by officialdom, seriously delaying progress on the rail and resulting in Prime Minister Prayuth being excluded from China’s first Belt and Road Forum for International Cooperation in 2017. While a compromise on the engineers was reached, Thailand managed to secure considerable technology transfer from Beijing in the process. In January 2021, only the third of fourteen contracts concerning the rail’s initial section was signed, the result of extended and intensive negotiation by Thailand. Critically, the Thais have also assumed the lion’s share of financing for the project; in effect refusing to engage in “debt trap diplomacy” in favor of a more empowered—if initially expensive—approach. A third main point is similar: Alongside the influence of China’s negotiators vis-à-vis Thai officials, a more constant and persistent presence of other Chinese actors in Thailand has undeniably influenced Thai civil society. Spread throughout the kingdom, Thailand hosts the most Confucius Institutes of any country in Asia and more than in the rest of the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) combined. They are designed to promote official versions of Chinese history, society, and politics. In 2019 in Bangkok’s prestigious Thammasat University, a new Pridi Phanamyong Learning Centre was opened, devoted exclusively to China and featuring an initial collection of over two thousand books. Alongside the thousands of Thais who study in these institutions were, in 2018, some 8,400 students from China—double the number from the previous year. Enabling the Chinese’ studies has been an explosion in recent years of Mandarin language courses throughout Thailand at all levels, as well as a rise in non-language courses taught in Mandarin itself. The rising number of Chinese students and classes in Thailand has been further enabled by three additional factors: For one, significantly more Thais have studied in Chinese universities than nationals from any other ASEAN country.[4] Two, a long and deep relationship exists between China’s leadership and Thailand’s popular Princess Sirindhorn, who studied in China, speaks and writes Mandarin fluently, and in 2019 was awarded China’s Friendship Medal, the highest honor given to foreigners. And three, there has been a proliferation of Chinese-language newspapers and media outlets across Thailand; previously such news outlets were limited primarily to Bangkok’s Chinatown. In addition, China’s state media outlets are producing copy in Thai for the kingdom’s audience. At least twelve of Thailand’s most popular news outlets are provided free articles from China’s Xinhua News, translated into Thai, while the Thai-language “China Xinhua News” Facebook page has millions of followers.[5] Chinese state media also provide the English-language China Daily to many sites in Thailand. Last year at a bookshop in Bangkok known as a gathering spot for civil society, a young, genial Chinese man introduced himself and kindly asked whether he might send something to this author’s address. The next day a copy of the China Daily arrived, whose stories and ads on the BRI absolutely dominated coverage. When this author politely asked for a reprieve several months later, he was assured that dozens of other coffee shops, college cafes, and NGO co-working spaces were receiving daily copies free of charge. Religion is another area of Chinese influence in the kingdom concerning the BRI. In late 2020, the Australian scholar Gregory Raymond published “Religion as a Tool of Influence: Buddhism and China’s Belt and Road Initiative in Mainland Southeast Asia.” In Raymond’s words, “It presents early evidence that the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI) is evolving to incorporate people-to-people links as one of its five official goals.”[6] Indeed, in 2015, the visiting Communist Party secretary of Hainan province told Thailand’s foreign and cultural ministers that his province had just established a college to promote “Buddhist cooperation between China and Southeast Asia consistent with the framework of the One Belt One Road initiative.” Thailand’s Sangha Supreme Council sent a delegation to the opening two years later. Since then, Buddhist abbots and associations in Yunnan, Guangdong, and Hainan provinces have both sent and received delegations of their counterparts and fellow believers in Thailand, explicitly to discuss the BRI. Thailand’s Mahachula Buddhist University also sent monks to participate in a 2017 conference in Hong Kong, focused on “Theravada and Mahayana Buddhism along the ‘One Belt, One Road’.” Again, however, the extent and effects of this Chinese influence on Thai civil society are debatable. In late December 2020, the Bangkok Post reported that the State Railway of Thailand and a provincial governor had just presided over a public hearing on the rail’s second phase, to “provide information to the local community so they could comment and help the developers improve the project.” The story made reference to past and future hearings as well, concluding that “[s]ome 800 million baht (roughly $25 million) will be spent on a study and environmental impact assessment.”[7] Whether these consultations have preempted or addressed any local concerns is not clear. But aside from the role played by the State Railway Workers Union in the government’s rejection of China’s land-use requests, neither this author’s observations nor queries to Thai civil society contacts has revealed strong negative views on the high-speed rail. At the same time, Thai civil society has clearly resisted any implicit or explicit attempts at influence with respect to another project placed under the BRI umbrella: the blasting of a final inlet of rapids on the Mekong River to allow for larger vessels traveling to and from southern China. Already linking southern China to the “Maritime Silk Road” via its delta on the Gulf of Thailand, the Mekong River is also being connected to the Andaman Sea via an east-west railway across Thailand’s narrow peninsula. All of this “connectivity” has been subsumed under China’s 2015 Lancang-Mekong Cooperation forum, which in turn is officially part of the BRI. Three years after Thailand agreed to China’s 2016 request to blast the final rapids in northern Thailand, it reversed course in 2019 after sustained protest by civil society organizations and local community groups, and as the Mekong itself was experiencing its lowest levels ever recorded. Both Thai and foreign officials informed this author that the main reason for the cancelation concerned the river’s “thalweg,” defined as the middle of the primary navigable channel defining the boundary between two countries—in this case Thailand-Laos. The blasting, in other words, could cause Thailand to lose a sliver of territory to Laos. That said, publicly both the Thai and Chinese governments cited civil society’s concerns—the environment, ecology, culture, livelihoods, food security—as the main reason for the cancellation. Whatever the case, and public relations and face-saving concerns aside, Thai civil society clearly identified the blasting project as being driven by China; and activity, openly, and successfully opposed it. A fourth point is related to the involvement of Thais at the local level. Besides the ambiguities of the BRI itself, how we define and conceive of civil society in Thailand also affects our assessment of its impact on the BRI in the kingdom. Consider a potential canal across Thailand’s Isthmus of Kra, which has often—but not always—been discussed under the BRI since 2017, including by China’s ambassador to Thailand. The idea of a canal across the narrow isthmus has been raised and tested intermittently for literally three and a half centuries. A modern canal’s main proponent has been one Thai Canal Association, whose name has all the trappings of a civil society organization and whose membership overlaps considerably with the Thai-Chinese Economic and Cultural Association. At the same time, the Thai Canal Association’s chair is a former army chief and the secretary-general of a foundation named after a late prime minister and chair of the Thai king’s Privy Council, his group of close advisors. Other retired senior military and political figures, including another former prime minister, are also members. Their advocacy for a canal is focused on projections of economic growth and claims that it will bolster national security. Further muddying the waters, the association claims to have several hundred thousand signatures in support of a canal, from villagers and other Thais living in the relevant peninsular provinces but not formally organized as a civil society organization.[8] Or consider as civil society businesses, which are sometimes but not always thought of as civil society. Thai businesses range from small- and medium-sized enterprises to multinationals and are organized in an array of associations. Thailand’s Charoen Pokphand (CP) Group was founded by a Chinese immigrant to the kingdom in 1921, and eventually became the first foreign investor in Communist China. Today CP is a rich and powerful conglomerate present in every Chinese province. It is a giant in Thailand as well, employing several hundred thousand Thais, and is a key domestic player in the BRI’s Eastern Economic Corridor. In 2019, a CP-led consortium was awarded the concession to build a railway linking three Thai airports, another BRI project. CP had never ventured into transportation before, but a revolving door between the company and Thailand’s Foreign and Commerce ministries has existed for decades. In Thailand and elsewhere, civil society is commonly thought of as the domain of a younger demographic with progressive agendas; and frankly not of people with powerful alternative sources of leverage and legitimacy. Yet this denies civil society membership to older generations based simply on age or agenda, and denies people their right to trade one community for another (or to be part of multiple communities simultaneously). It also speaks to the fact that in Thailand, many of the new, vibrant, and progressive civil society organizations formed during the 1990s, were coopted, marginalized, and/or discredited by Thailand’s color-coded and reactionary interest groups during the 2000s. Finally, it is important to ask whether the distinction between civil society and civil society organizations, or CSOs, is a meaningful one. For instance, must southern Thai villagers even confer with one another on an issue, much less organize themselves around it, to count as Thai civil society? Indeed, the Kra canal may seem like only a sub-issue of the BRI in Thailand, but it exposes a much larger challenge confronting the country and its citizens. A fifth and final point is that, regarding the BRI’s programs beyond physical infrastructure, Thai civil society is plainly conflicted. China’s Digital Silk Road, according to CFR’s Joshua Kurlantzick, “goes toward improving recipients’ telecommunications networks, artificial intelligence capabilities, cloud computing, e-commerce and mobile payment systems, surveillance technology, smart cities, and other high-tech areas.”[9] Fifth generation (5G) mobile internet technology, able to carry enormous caches of data at almost instant speed, is a major aspect of the DSR. Not only is China’s Huawei Technologies already a global leader in 5G’s development and application, but in 2019 Thailand indicated that Huawei was leading the race for building out 5G across the kingdom. Some of Huawei’s investment runs through CP, which operates the leading telecommunications firm in Thailand and which was invited to participate in Huawei’s 5G test networks in the Eastern Economic Corridor. Thai civil society has not notably opposed the government’s favorable view of Huawei—and it is not difficult to see why. In 2018, 74 percent of Thai citizens had regular access to the internet, and Thailand led the world in time spent online each day with a jaw-dropping 9.4 hours. Nearly half of that time—4.6 hours daily—was spent on mobile internet, also a world-leading figure. Bangkok had (and likely still has) the largest number of active Facebook accounts among cities globally, and Instagram was not far behind.[10] Thailand also ranked number one in the world in 2019 in mobile banking penetration.[11] As for mobile devices, sales of Huawei brand phones have taken off in recent years, cutting into the traditionally popular iPhone and Samsung markets. Yet in mid-2020, as Beijing threatened the use of force against Taiwan and substantially tightened control over Hong Kong, a collection of Thai netizens criticized China’s moves on social media. This sparked a backlash from Chinese social media users, which in turn led to netizens in Taiwan and Hong Kong reciprocating their support from Thailand and the formation of a so-called “Milk Tea Alliance,” after the trendy drink popular in all three locations. Illustrated by a new #MilkTeaAlliance hashtag, this social media activity created a kind of de facto online community. Moreover, when Chinese users pointed out free speech violations in Thailand itself, Thais undermined the critics by readily agreeing with them about the suppression of speech in the kingdom. Indeed, Thai civil society has long opposed Thailand’s Computer Crimes Act, which the government has used to censor or chill free speech. While the law predates the DSR by nearly a decade, its 2017 amendments were passed less than a year after the DSR’s announcement. Thai civil society has accused these amendments of having been inspired and informed—if not enabled—by China’s “Great Firewall” and other domestic digital policies and practices. They allow Thai authorities nearly unfettered authority to censor speech, engage in surveillance, conduct warrantless searches of personal data, and curtail the utilization of encryption and anonymity online. Analogous to this dynamic has been the mixed reaction in Thailand to China’s new Health Silk Road: like all Thais, leaders of Thai civil society want access to a COVID-19 vaccine as soon as possible, and China’s Sinopharm and Sinovac have impressed with the speed at which they have produced one. Yet as early as April 2020, Sophie Boisseau de Rocher of the French Institute of International Relations noted “angry voices emanating from civil society” toward a Thai government that “failed to take strong action to fight the virus (in a bid not to offend China),” while Thai netizens were questioning the efficacy of China’s vaccine even before recent tests have cast further doubt.[12] In conclusion, just as China’s Belt and Road Initiative is many things to many countries, and to the many and diverse people within those countries; so is its relationship with Thai civil society a varied, nuanced, and evolving picture. As Thailand itself presents a unique situation to the BRI as a U.S. treaty ally, the world’s twenty-second largest economy (2019), an authoritarian democracy, and a superlative social media consumer; its civil society alternately ignores, accepts, welcomes, and opposes its numerous elements. This has been the case in Thailand for the past eight years, and can be expected to hold for the foreseeable future.  Endnotes ^ See, among others, Megan L. McCulloch, “Environmental Protest and Civil Society in China,” Naval Postgraduate School, Monterey, September 2015, http://calhoun.nps.edu/handle/10945/47303. ^ See David M. Lampton, Selina Ho, and Cheng Chwee Kuik, Rivers of Iron: Railroads and Chinese Power in Southeast Asia, (Oakland: University of California Press, 2020). ^ See the World Bank, http://data.worldbank.org/indicator/NY.GDP.MKTP.KD.ZG?locations=TH, accessed on February 1, 2021. ^ See David Shambaugh, Where Great Powers Meet: America & China in Southeast Asia, (New York: Oxford University Press, 2020), 158. ^ See Kerry K. Gershaneck, Political Warfare: Strategies for Combating China’s Plan to “Win Without Fighting,” (Quantico: Marine Corps University Press, 2020), 91. ^ Gregory V. Raymond, “Religion as a Tool of Influence: Buddhism and China’s Belt and Road Initiative in Mainland Southeast Asia,” Contemporary Southeast Asia, 42, 3 (2020), 347. ^ “Hearing Held on High-Speed Rail Project,” Bangkok Post, December 23, 2020. ^ See Benjamin Zawacki, “America’s Biggest Southeast Asian Ally is Drifting Toward China,” Foreign Policy, September 29, 2017, http://foreignpolicy.com/2017/09/29/its-on-trump-to-stop-bangkoks-drift-to-beijing/. ^ Joshua Kurlantzick, “China’s Digital Silk Road Initiative: A Boon for Developing Countries or a Danger to Freedom?,” Diplomat, December 17, 2020, http://thediplomat.com/2020/12/chinas-digital-silk-road-initiative-a-boon-for-developing-countries-or-a-danger-to-freedom/. ^ See “Thailand Tops Internet Usage Charts,” Bangkok Post, February 6, 2018, http://www.bangkokpost.com/business/1408158/thailand-tops-internet-usage-charts. ^ See Murray Hiebert Under Beijing’s Shadow: Southeast Asia’s China Challenge, (Washington, DC: Center for Strategic and International Studies, 2020), 305. ^ See Gershaneck, Political Warfare: Strategies for Combating China’s Plan to “Win Without Fighting,” 88.

Some Nigerian movers and shakers appear to be panicking over the continued deterioration of security nationwide. Longtime political heavyweight Bukola Saraki—former governor of Kwara State, former president of the senate, and former chairman of the National Assembly—and Nobel Laureate Wole Soyinka have urged President Muhammadu Buhari to seek outside assistance. Senior Advocate of Nigeria Robert Clarke at a Sunday, May 2 Channels Television news show questioned whether Nigeria would survive another six months and recommended that Nigeria’s political leadership hand over power to the military because the country is on the brink of collapse; he would have the military (in effect, the army) oversee the often mooted fundamental restructuring of the Nigerian state. (Clarke, Saraki, and Soyinka have long been critical of Nigeria’s governance; Channels Television is a major network and its Sunday morning news/talk shows follow a familiar American format.) At his meeting with U.S. Secretary of State Antony Blinken, President Muhammadu Buhari asked that the headquarters of the U.S. Africa Command (AFRICOM) be moved from Stuttgart, Germany to Africa, so that it would be closer to the fighting against jihadism in the Sahel and the Lake Chad Basin. Since AFRICOM’s establishment in 2007, Nigeria has generally opposed any permanent AFRICOM presence in Africa. Critics have alleged that AFRICOM is “neocolonialist.” Buhari’s request was a reversal of longstanding policy. Perhaps in direct response to Clarke’s televised remarks on May 4—as well as Sen. Saraki and other critics—Acting Director of Defense Information Brig. Gen. Onyema Nwachukwu publicly stated that the military has no intention of taking power: “We shall continue to remain apolitical, subordinate to civil authority, firmly loyal to the president…and the 1999 constitution.” In the face of the deterioration of security, doom and gloom about the future of Nigeria is widespread in public discourse. Still, Clarke went further than most—and on national television. Buhari’s AFRICOM request is an indication of a willingness to consider hitherto unacceptable options. Twenty-two years after the military left power and civilian, ostensibly democratic federalism was restored, it is striking that the army felt it necessary to issue a denial of any intention to seize power. The bottom line is that while Clarke is an outlier, something of a consensus among Nigerian elites seems to be forming that the country is in deep trouble and that radical options must be considered. But no consensus exists about what state collapse would look like, what the way forward should be, and what “radical restructuring of the Nigerian state” would actually mean or how it could be achieved. For now, however, the outlook would seem to be continuing, perhaps accelerating instability and uncertainty.

Isa Pantami is minister of communications and digital economy in President Muhammadu Buhari's government. Some years ago, in sermons and other statements, he used rhetoric about Christians and the West that mimics that of al-Qaeda and the Taliban. He also fulsomely praised Osama bin Laden. Some years later, he apologized. Recently, however, those statements surfaced on social media. One Nigerian newspaper claimed that Pantami was on a U.S. government watch list for terrorists—a claim with no U.S. confirmation. For the time being, Pantami has become a lightning rod for those deeply suspicious of Islam and also of the Buhari administration. The opposition even sought a debate in the National Assembly but was blocked by the ruling party. However, the debate appears to be centered on social media, with dueling hashtags: #PantamiMustGo versus #PantamiMustStay. President Buhari's spokesman, Garba Shehu, issued a balanced statement affirming continuing support for Pantami while at the same time denouncing the jihadi statements he once made. The spokesman pointed out that Pantami's rhetoric was years old and that he had apologized. Those opposed to Pantami, however, express concern that his ministerial position gives him access to personal information about, not least, foreign diplomats in Nigeria. Some have called on the United States to press Buhari to investigate Pantami. In principle, U.S. law enforcement organizations do not comment on the presence or absence of individuals on watchlists. It would also be highly unusual for the U.S. government to express a view on a minister in a friendly government. The significance of the episode would seem to be that it illustrates the polarization in Nigerian society and politics—and that past injudicious and harmful statements can catch up.

Aare Ona Kakanfo of Yorubaland Gani Adams, in a speech at a book launch in Lagos on April 14 said that the Yoruba people have "graduated from restructuring to self-determination." He continued by saying that Nigeria is dominated by a "main powerful bloc" that, he implied, makes restructuring impossible. Specifically, he is advocating autonomy for Nigeria’s regions, in which “70 to 80 percent” of political power would be exercised by the regions rather than the federal government. The Aare seems to advocating a form of governance similar to that of the Federal Republic of Germany—an example often cited in Nigeria of successful regional devolution. These sentiments were also expressed by other representatives present of the Yoruba elite. The Aare and other speakers also vented against President Muhammadu Buhari and the Muslim north—especially the pastoral Fulani. (Buhari is a northern Fulani.) The representative of the Ooni of Ife, regarded as one of the two paramount Yoruba traditional rulers, complained that most of the wealth of the south was enjoyed in the north. Reflecting Yoruba cultural concerns, he also called for the reintroduction of history in school curricula, presumably in support of Yoruba identity. Calls for restructuring Nigeria are widespread across the country. In Yorubaland, agitation for autonomy rather than restructuring could presage a drift toward Yoruba separatist sentiment. The leader of Igbo separatism, Nnamdi Kanu, appears to see that possibility. He welcomed the Aare's speech on social media. Yoruba calls for "autonomy," even if falling short of calls for separatism, do not bode well for the unity of Nigeria, already challenged in the oil patch, in Igboland, and by jihadis in the north. The Aare has long been involved in Yoruba cultural and political movements. He led the militant wing of the Oodua Peoples' Congress, which advocates for an "autonomous" Yoruba state and has been accused of terrorism. (Gani Adams was jailed for a time.) He was raised to the Aare rank by the Alaafin of Oyo, the other paramount Yoruba traditional ruler. The previous holder of the Aare title was Moshood Abiola, presidential victor in the 1993 elections—Nigeria's most credible—but excluded from office by the army; he later died in prison under suspicious circumstances. The Aare appears to be at the center of Yoruba political ferment. The media reports that Afenifere, another Yoruba cultural/political organization, effected the Aare’s reconciliation with former President Olusegun Obasanjo. The Yoruba are one of the "big three" ethnic groups in Nigeria. (The other two are the Hausa and the Igbo.) Estimates of their size are up to 40 million. They are concentrated in southwest Nigeria, but some Yoruba in Brazil recognize Yoruba traditional rulers in Nigeria. Yoruba identity and culture are strong. Nominally, the Yoruba are divided between Christianity and Islam, but religious tension among adherents of the two is absent. Yoruba families usually include both Christians and Muslims, and adherents of each religion celebrate the other's holidays as well as their own. Some ascribe this tranquility to the fact that, whether Christian or Muslim, Yoruba respect the traditional Yoruba gods. A hierarchy of traditional rulers commands popular respect. At the pinnacle are the Ooni of Ife and the Alaafin of Oyo, often rivals in the past. The Yoruba have a tradition of political fractiousness, which led to British occupation in the mid-nineteenth century. Olusegun Obasanjo, military ruler in the 1970s and civilian president from 1999 to 2007, is a Yoruba. The Yoruba dominate the Lagos-Ibadan corridor, the most developed part of Nigeria. This publication is part of the Diamonstein-Spielvogel Project on the Future of Democracy.

The voice of Nigeria’s youth was heard at the EndSars protests and through the emergence of Paystack and Flutterwave, which were a breath of fresh air in an otherwise foul news climate around the country.

Against an immediate backdrop of escalating mass kidnappings, jihadi resurgence, growing separatist sentiment in the old Biafra, and conflict over water and land that often assumes a religious and ethnic coloration, the Catholic Bishops’ Conference of Nigeria has issued a statement sounding the alarm over the very survival of the nation. The statement expresses concern, inter alia, over high-level government officials advising citizens to resort to self-defense as exacerbating ethnic conflict. The statement acknowledges the costs of nation-building but affirms that the costs of Nigeria's tearing itself apart would be far higher. The statement does not directly attack President Muhammadu Buhari but rather calls on Nigerians to rededicate themselves to the "Nigeria project"—building a multiethnic, democratic society. The specific points made by the Catholic bishops are widely heard in Nigeria among thoughtful, engaged citizens. Nevertheless, the bishops' statement is authoritative, blunt, and to-the-point. The Roman Catholic Church is one of Nigeria's few national institutions. (Others are the Nigerian army and the Anglican Church.) The Catholic bishops have an almost unique access to what is going on at the grassroots all over the country. The bishops tend to be judicious and advocate for Nigerian unity—hence the significance, in part, of the bluntness of their statement. Though its adherents are mostly in the south and east, the Catholic Church's network of dioceses covers the entire country, even in the predominately Muslim north. It and the Anglican Church were long the two largest denominations of European origin, but both have been usurped in size by Pentecostal churches. Moreover, the Roman Catholic Church is an "establishment" institution, and its bishops by and large have good relations with the traditional Muslim leadership. The Catholic bishops' statement should be a wake-up call for Nigeria's foreign friends as well as for those Nigerians that too readily ignore what is going on around them until it impacts on them directly, such as with kidnapping.

Although LGBTQ+ people in every region of the world face marginalization and repression, their human rights have steadily advanced. The Biden administration has an opportunity to further promote LGBTQ+ rights by asserting them as a foreign policy priority.

In Nigeria, causation of arrests and release are murky, and the rumor mill operates overtime. Some Nigerians are suggesting that Omoyele Sowore was released because the authorities are aware of the stronger human rights emphasis of the Biden administration and wanted to start off on the right foot with the new administration. Sowore is a well-known Nigerian human rights activist and strong critic of the Buhari administration and of Nigeria's political economy in general. He is the founder of Sahara Reporters, a well-regarded news agency based in New York. He is a U.S. permanent resident and his wife and children are U.S. citizens. In 2017, he ran for the Nigeria presidency as fierce critic of the status quo, though he received few votes. The Buhari administration and Nigeria's "movers and shakers" generally regard Sowore as a thorn in their side. He has been arrested for "treason" for calling for nonviolent "revolution." He was finally released on bail after human rights activists made his case a cause célèbre with the support of Sen. Bob Menendez (D-NJ), among others. On December 31, 2020, Sowore was re-arrested in Abuja along with four other activists following a small demonstration denouncing police and other violations of human rights. This time, he was charged with unlawful assembly, criminal conspiracy, and inciting a public disturbance. But, on January 12, the Chief Magistrates Court in Abuja ordered his release on bail, and the police complied. The court set Sowore's bail at N20 million ($52,459). The police and other Nigerian security services frequently ignore court orders, especially in high-profile political cases. Why, this time, did they allow Sowore to be released? Parts of the Buhari administration are well aware that the incoming Biden administration will be more concerned about human rights than its predecessor. Further, Sen. Menendez, a strong supporter of the Biden presidential candidacy, is the incoming chair of the powerful Senate Foreign Relations Committee. It is likely that at least a part of the Buhari administration advocated for Sowore’s release to cultivate good relations with the Biden administration.

Roman Catholic Bishop of Sokoto Matthew Kukah, in a Christmas message titled "A Nation In Search Of Vindication," delivered a blistering critique of Nigeria's governance and political economy. The message was not a sermon, nor was it, apparently, delivered in a church setting. Rather it appears to be a message addressed to a wider audience than his fellow Catholics. In it he accused President Muhammadu Buhari of nepotism and making too many high-level appointments among his fellow northern Muslims. He said, “Every honest Nigerian knows that there is no way any non-Northern Muslim President could have done a fraction of what President Buhari has done by his nepotism and gotten away with it. There would have been a military coup a long time ago or we would have been at war.” Some Islamic organizations have reacted strongly against the bishop, with calls for him to apologize or to leave northern Nigeria, where his diocese is located. That was the response of the Muslim Solidarity Forum, based in Sokoto, which also referred to northern Christians as “guests” in Sokoto. The Arewa Youth Consultative Forum (AYCF) called the bishop's message a “treasonable felony against the Nigerian state.” A variety of Christian groups, including the Pentecostal Fellowship of Nigeria (PFN) and the Catholic Bishops’ Conference of Nigeria defended him equally vociferously. PFN said the bishop “spoke truth to power.” President Buhari's initial response should have lowered the temperature. Through the president’s spokesman Garba Shehu, the presidency stated that the bishop should be allowed to practice his faith and his politics as provided for by the constitution. Subsequently, however, Minister of Information and Culture Alhaji Lai Mohammed said that “calling for a violent overthrow of a democratically-elected government, no matter how disguised such a call is, and casting a particular religion as violent is not what any religious leader should engage in, and certainly not in a season of peace.” However, a careful reading of the bishop’s statement shows he was not calling for the violent overthrow of the government. The knee-jerk reaction to the bishop is perhaps more significant than the message itself, concise analysis of Nigeria's ills though it was. Commentators and organizations cast the bishop's remarks as an attack on Islam, with Muslims against it and Christians for it. In fact, the statement was not cast in Christian/Muslim terms. In strong language, the bishop's message cited Nigeria's ills that have been identified by numerous Christian and Muslim leaders, including the Sultan of Sokoto, to whom the bishop made explicit reference. In effect, peppered with quotations about justice, especially from the Old Testament, he denounced the self-serving elites that dominate Nigeria. Moreover, he argues that only the Nigerian people themselves can bring about fundamental political reform. The uproar owes something to Nigeria's current security crisis, with the Islamist terrorist group Boko Haram far from defeated, increasing activism of Islamist radical groups in the northwest, ongoing quarrels over land and water in the Middle Belt, and a low-level insurrection in the oil patch. President Buhari's government is widely criticized for apparent inactivity, though it moved with dispatch to try to counter COVID-19. Bishop Kukah, born in 1952, was educated at the Kennedy School at Harvard and the School of Oriental and African Studies at the University of London, among other places. A highly charismatic figure, he identifies strongly with Nigeria in a country in which national identity is weak [PDF]. He has long been involved with peace and reconciliation movements, and has cooperated closely with the Sultan of Sokoto, by protocol the highest-ranking Muslim traditional ruler in Nigeria.

Nkasi Wodu is a lawyer, peacebuilding practitioner, and development expert based in Port Harcourt, Nigeria. On January 6, a large group of rioters stormed the U.S. Capitol building in an attempt to unconstitutionally obstruct the certification of Joe Biden’s Electoral College victory, following his triumph in the presidential election held on November 3. Fortunately for U.S. democracy, centuries-old institutions held firm in the face of this assault, as Vice President Mike Pence officially announced President-Elect Biden’s victory after Congress completed the counting of the votes. Unfortunately, the events on January 6 could prove detrimental for democracy in the developing world.  For many years, the United States has stood as the beacon of hope for democracy in the world, using its resources to promote democratic values and discourage autocracy from Africa to Latin America to the former Soviet Union. While there have, admittedly, been valid criticisms targeted at some of these efforts, what is apparent is that for decades the United States has helped create space for civil society actors to push for reforms, hold their governments accountable, and build the capacity of emerging activists. Specifically, the United States has stood as the prototype for which civil society actors in African countries push their governments to pursue. However, in a dark twist of fate, many African dictators and faux democrats are now bolstered by the recent happenings in the United States—dubbed an insurrection by President-Elect Biden, while others have called it a coup or domestic terrorism—as an excuse not to uphold democratic tenets which the United States has long defended. Sadly, for many African countries, the events at Capitol Hill may have done irreparable damage to their struggling democracies. Civil society actors have pointed to seamless, non-violent transitions of power in the United States as norms that African governments should aspire to meet. There are numerous examples in sub-Saharan Africa—including Nigeria, Liberia, Ivory Coast, Burundi, and Ethiopia—where mismanaged election processes have truncated transitions and led to violence, military coups, and even civil wars. Activists in African countries have pushed for electoral reform as an essential ingredient for democracy and an antidote to African leaders’ penchant for decades-long terms. The allegations of fraud from many of President Trump’s supporters have not only cast a shadow on the integrity of the process, but also made the work of civil society actors harder by emboldening African political leaders—whose first victim is usually the integrity of the electoral process—to continue organizing elections in which results bear no resemblance to the collective will of the majority. Human rights abuses committed by security forces are another area where African activists have challenged governments. Many African leaders are quick to use the various security agencies under their control to suppress dissent. The efforts of civil society organizations in mobilizing against this practice in the past two decades have been impressive. While the United States has many documented problems regarding police brutality, particularly against persons of color, many civil society actors in Africa have pushed for more accountability of security agencies in their countries using the United States as an imperfect example. Following the violent response to Black Live Matters protests by many U.S. police departments in the summer of 2020, some African countries—such as Nigeria, Cameroon, Mali, Kenya, Uganda, and Ivory Coast—have also seen increasing crackdowns on peaceful protesters. The same can be said of restrictions on civic space in many African countries. While it can be argued that some African governments have consistently pursued dissenting voices, the Trump administration’s inclination to label unflattering news as “fake” and offer “alternative facts” has allowed governments to clamp down on dissenting voices under the guise of limiting the spread of fake news. Nigeria’s minister of information, for example, has continued to push for legislation imposing harsh penalties for the sharing of fake news on social media. When U.S. Senator Chuck Schumer said that “January 6 will go down as one of the darkest days of recent American history,” he was not speaking only for Americans. African civil society actors’ painstaking efforts to build the foundations of representative democracy have inevitably been made more difficult as the guiding light from the “shining city on a hill” has become dimmer. So, while American institutions have seemingly survived the latest assault, its effects will certainly reverberate abroad in many African countries. As then-President Biden begins the difficult task of rebuilding the country after taking his oath of office on January 20, he should consider that restoring functional democracy in the United States is a prerequisite for his foreign policy agenda of revitalizing the American commitment to human rights and democracy around the world. As Biden himself said, the United States leads not by the example of its power, but the power of its example.

Nolan Quinn contributed to this post. Omoyele Sowore, human rights activist and former presidential candidate of the African Action Congress, was arrested New Year’s Eve following a peaceful protest in the capital, Abuja. According to Nigerian media, he has been denied bail and arraigned at the Magistrate Court in Abuja; he and other activists are now being held in Kuje prison. Initially he and a small group of fellow protestors were taken to Abattoir police station, formerly a facility of the Special Anti-Robbery Squad (SARS), the police unit whose brutality ignited the October anti-SARS protests in Lagos that led to the notorious police murder of protestors at the Lekki Toll Gate. (Abattoir is the formal name of the police station, which is situated in a defunct abattoir.) SARS has officially been disbanded, but critics fear that it has merely been reconstituted with a new name. Though he has been a thorn in the side of the Buhari administration, why did the police arrest Sowore in the aftermath of a small, peaceful protest? He is an internationally known human rights activist and founder of Sahara Reporters, a well-regarded news site based in New York. He is a permanent resident of the United States; his family lives in New Jersey. His 2019 detention of 144 days without charge attracted the protest of Sen. Bob Menendez (D-NJ). Sowore is a fierce critic of Nigeria's political economy in general and President Muhammadu Buhari in particular. He has called for a “revolution” and organized peaceful protests across the nation. Some critics see his use of “revolution” as evidence that he is trying to overthrow the government extralegally, though his protests have been peaceful. He is at present charged with “treason” and had been out on bail following his previous arrest; one of the conditions was that he could not leave Abuja. Just before New Year's he was calling for nationwide “crossover protests” against bad government, the Lekki massacre, and other human rights grievances. In Nigeria and elsewhere in Africa, opposition to a government may be construed as treason. Because the protests were to be nationwide, the authorities (or some of them) may have seen Sowore as violating the provision of his parole that restricts him to Abuja even though he had not left the city. For them, that could be a pretext for jailing him. From media accounts, the arrests were heavy-handed: multiple police vans appeared and Sowore is reported to have been beaten.  Many of those who benefit from Nigeria's political economy, not least the police, detest Sowore. Instigation for his arrest could have a variety of sources, not necessarily including the presidency. The episode, if not quickly resolved, could further damage Nigeria's international reputation—particularly among the diaspora living in the United States. The incoming Biden administration has signaled that it will be deeply concerned about human rights issues. The arrest of Sowore and the denial of bail is a poor representation of Nigeria to the incoming administration.

On December 8, Amnesty stated that at least ten thousand civilians have died in Nigerian military custody since 2011. The report cites Giwa Barracks, a particularly sordid prison in Maiduguri. Previous reports of civilian deaths by non-governmental organizations have received extensive coverage from Western media. Anecdotal evidence [PDF] suggests that abuses by Nigerian security services—including the army—against civilians have been an important Boko Haram recruitment tool. However, bad prison conditions probably contribute far more deaths than deliberate security service abuse. Prisons are underfunded, understaffed, and often grotesquely overcrowded—in part because of the sclerotic justice system. As elsewhere in the world, a high percentage of prisoners have not been charged—let alone convicted—of any crime because a judicial process can drag on for years. Many prisoners survive because family members provide food, water, and medicine. If family members are absent, however, that safety net disappears. Prisoners die from disease and a lack of water and food. Western nongovernment organizations that highlight security service abuses and bad prison conditions, such as Amnesty, are widely disliked by Nigeria's elites, who routinely accuse Western NGOs of "double standards." Then, too, the popular Nigerian perception of the purpose of imprisonment is often that it serves to punish, not rehabilitate. Capital punishment, anathema to many Western NGOs, is widely popular. So, too, is vigilante justice.

Two weeks ago, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, the Nigerian novelist celebrated for her Half a Yellow Sun, was awarded the Women's Prize for Fiction as the author of the best book to win the annual prize over the past twenty-five years. This is a one-off prize, designed to highlight the best of the best. Adichie won the annual prize in 2007. Her novel is set in Biafra at the end of the 1967–70 Nigerian civil war. The “half of a yellow sun” recalls the Biafran flag. The book has been extraordinarily popular throughout the English-speaking world and has been made into a film. Adichie joins Chinua Achebe (Things Fall Apart), Wole Soyinka (Death and the King’s Horseman), Ben Okri (The Famished Road), Teju Cole (Open City), and many other Nigerian novelists and poets in achieving worldwide acclaim. In music, architecture, and painting there has been similar international recognition of Nigerian talent. Yet Nigeria faces security and economic challenges that are seemingly accelerating.  Adichie, Achebe, Soyinka, and Okri are indisputably African artists. Yet, they live or lived much of the time outside of Nigeria: Achebe and Soyinka taught in the United States; Teju Cole was born in Kalamazoo, Michigan to Nigerian parents; Okri lives in the United Kingdom. The reasons for their expatriation are no doubt highly individual and complex. But artists from other countries have also chosen expatriation: examples include the Americans who flocked to Paris post-World War I or the luminaries of the Irish renaissance who often lived in the United Kingdom, France, or the United States.