Corruption

A cursory glance at recent headlines from Zimbabwe could give one the impression that things are looking up. A recent World Bank report predicted growth of nearly 4 percent this year. The government took a small first step toward compensating farmers whose land was violently seized by the state decades ago. But closer inspection reveals a country with tremendous structural challenges and a government focused only on regime survival. It is true that good rains have been a boost to the agricultural sector and have eased the burden of hunger in Zimbabwe. But that sector, like all others, is stymied by the ruinous governance that, coupled with the COVID-19 pandemic, has left half of the population living on less than a dollar a day. Moreover, citizens cannot count on the favorable rains persisting. Zimbabwe is one of the countries most affected [PDF] by climate change in the world. If it had a government with credibility, Zimbabwe could be an important voice on the international stage advocating for more meaningful action to support adaptation and mitigation measures. But no one is looking to Harare for leadership because its government is synonymous with corruption and repression. The murky nature of the vehicle the state used for its first payment to former landholders, Kuvimba Mining House Ltd., points to continued patterns of elite enrichment and the absence of accountability at the top. At the same time, the government is engaged in new land seizures, aimed at perceived enemies like civil society leaders, part of its continued campaign to silence dissent and close political space. The state subjects independent journalists to regular harassment and arrest, bullies the judiciary when it shows pockets of independence, and instigates and exploits divisions in the political opposition to silence critical voices in parliament. Like many other countries in the region, Zimbabwe has an overwhelmingly young population. Any government would find it challenging to steward truly inclusive growth, ensure opportunities for its young people, address the realities of climate change, and strengthen governing institutions and public trust. But the record of the current leadership provides little reassurance that it aims for any of these goals. Two-thirds of Zimbabweans believe their country is going in the wrong direction. Without a fundamental change in the nature of governance, they are almost certain to be proved right.

When the region’s governments are such problematic partners, going around and after them is the only solution.

President Cyril Ramaphosa of South Africa has an extraordinarily tough job. He leads a country reeling from a series of corruption scandals and a party at war with itself.

In a June 6 presidential runoff, Peruvians will choose between divisive candidates whose campaigns have raised concerns about the country lurching into extremist policies and democratic backsliding. The result could spell further instability for the country and even the region.

Corruption investigations that started in Brazil ultimately triggered political upheaval across the continent. But the Brazilian taskforce’s methods have been questioned, including over alleged bias.

The Biden administration made a bold commitment to support the region’s prosecutors in their fight against impunity. But corrupt courts, business associations, and legislatures could derail the progress if they are not reformed in time.    

Last month, South Africa’s Daily Maverick newspaper published a damning exposé on corruption in Zimbabwe. The report, titled Cartel Power Dynamics in Zimbabwe [PDF], details off-the-books networks worth billions that deal in gold, diamonds, cigarettes, fuel and more. In so doing, it provides some concrete answers to perennial questions: how is it that elite networks persist and even thrive when conditions for most Zimbabweans have been on a downward trajectory for decades, and how has a country so rich in natural resources and human capital become so poor? It’s not a surprise to learn that a powerful few are getting rich in Zimbabwe (though offshoring much of their wealth). From dodgy ownership structures that gave the top tier of the security services exclusive access to mining wealth to sole-source, inflated contracts for COVID-19 relief supplies, examples of high-level corruption have surfaced repeatedly over the years. But the latest revelations provide new details on the machinery of corruption, the enabling networks and middlemen that make it possible to continue squeezing wealth out of the country. The real question is what comes next. Can policymakers around the world find the will and the means to increase the cost of complicity in this looting, including for international actors facilitating this activity, be it in South Africa or the United Arab Emirates? Can the Southern African Development Community concern itself with this fleecing of an entire country, and the complicity of Russian and Chinese firms in certain cartel activities, in the way it has zealously communicated concerns about the targeted sanctions that the United States applies to specific individuals and entities in Zimbabwe? Equally important, can Zimbabwean civil society find effective ways to convey the realities of these complex schemes so that a majority of their fellow citizens have the facts at their disposal, and can be better armed with information in efforts to hold their leaders accountable? The success of journalist Hopewell Chin’ono’s song, “Dem Loot,” is an encouraging example of how this can happen. The extraordinarily resilient people of Zimbabwe have never stopped working to defend the rule of law or working to build a more accountable system of governance. They deserve access to the facts about how and why their country works for a few and fails so many.

Amadou Touré, coup maker, coup victim, military ruler, and eventually civilian chief of state in Mali, died last week in Istanbul at the age of seventy-two. Touré dominated Mali's governance for some twenty years and, in death, is being praised as a "soldier of democracy." Following his successful 1991 coup against Moussa Traoré, military ruler for thirteen years, Touré orchestrated a transition to elections and civilian government. In 2002 he was elected president and, in 2007, reelected. In 2012, he was overthrown by a military coup. Since then, the country has been in turmoil, with Tuareg and jihadi insurrections seeming to gain strength. It was during Touré's civilian presidency that Mali was the darling of many Western commentators. After all, the country had a civilian government and regular elections. Mali's outstanding achievements in music and the arts lent a glow. Overlooked was flourishing corruption, narcotics trafficking, and the continued alienation of the northern part of the country. Too many observers mistook the forms of democracy and good governance for its substance. Outside observers viewed Mali as a conventional nation-state, just as they often do with other postcolonial countries. Hence their exaggerated emphasis on elections and, later, their failure to see the role played by corruption (including narcotics trafficking) in the body politic—as well as the limits to what Touré could do about it, even if he wanted to. Accordingly, the current criticism of Touré reflects the assumption that he should have been like the leader of a nation-state rather than what he was, the head of a highly unstable coalition of forces and interests artificially amalgamated by the colonial power into a single entity.

President Martin Vizcarra’s ouster has caused turmoil and a leadership vacuum, amid economic turbulence and severe pandemic strains. Why has Peru endured so much political upheaval?

The worsening crisis in northern Mozambique is a case study in why governance matters. For years, the prevailing narrative about Mozambique was all about peace dividends, economic growth, and the promise of the country’s extraordinary natural resources. To be sure, there were warning signs about endemic corruption, and the growth was never inclusive. But now the headlines are dominated by the fighting in Cabo Delgado, where ISIS-linked insurgents have terrorized the population, killing over 1,500 people, displacing over 300,000, creating a food security crisis, and exposing the profound weakness of the state. That weakness has been exacerbated by international criminal networks that have been active for many years in the country, establishing deep roots and taking advantage of a political culture that allows the powerful to evade the law. Mozambican officials famously hid secret loans from citizens and international partners, leading to a sprawling scandal that still taints officials at the highest levels. Meanwhile, from the heroin trade to ruby smuggling, crime has become entwined with the state, leaving it both less capable and less trusted. That environment has proven fertile for violent extremists. Since 2017, attacks from insurgents, known as Ansar al-Sunna, have been growing in frequency and sophistication. The government’s response may well be making the problem worse. Human rights organizations have documented grotesque abuses committed by security services charged with protecting citizens, further alienating the population.  The failures of these forces has prompted Mozambique to turn to foreign mercenaries for help; the state simply doesn't have the capacity to provide basic security within its borders. Meanwhile, Mozambique’s neighbors and international partners are becoming increasingly uncomfortable. The Southern African Development Community, or SADC, has expressed concern but is presently more wary of involvement than of contagion. Multinational firms invested in Mozambique’s natural gas fields wish to secure their investments but find few desirable and capable partners in doing so. But the fragility of Mozambique has been evident for years. Perhaps if, a decade ago, the international community had expended more energy supporting the civil society actors who have been calling attention to these deep-rooted problems—and pressed harder to support solutions—Mozambique today might demonstrate more resilience, and the outlook would be less bleak.

South Africans have long feared that corruption would move from "retail," small-scale and individualistic, to "structural," as it is in some other African countries, where corruption infuses the political economy. Those fears accelerated during the 2009-2018 presidency of Jacob Zuma, which was characterized by nepotism, cronyism, and patronage networks, altogether labeled "state capture," and blatant corruption within some state-owned enterprises fully reported by the media. Corruption also fueled Zuma's efforts to remain in power and to undermine South African institutions that limited what he could do, which were established during the transition from apartheid to "non-racial" democracy. Those institutions, supported by freedom of the press, a strong parliamentary opposition, a growing democratic culture, and operating within Africa's most developed economy, were strong enough to survive Zuma. Since the first "non-racial" elections in 1994, South Africa has been governed by the African National Congress (ANC), by origin an anti-apartheid liberation movement that has always been "big tent" and multi-racial. It was the party of national icon Nelson Mandela. Especially under Zuma, it became less multi-racial, was widely accused of corruption, and its popular support has steadily eroded. The country's economy severely contracted in the aftermath of the 2008 world-wide financial crisis, and recovery was slow. With declining popular support, the stage was set for Cyril Ramaphosa's successful challenge of Zuma within the ANC for party leadership and the national presidency in 2018. However, bolstered by his extensive patronage network, Zuma and his allies retained significant power within the party. Since 2018, Ramaphosa has moved slowly and carefully to sideline Zuma's supporters, reform the economy, and tackle corruption. Ramaphosa's popularity owes much to his perceived competency and his opposition to corruption.  Reformers often accuse Ramaphosa of moving too slowly against corruption. However, over the last weekend in August, the ANC's National Executive Council, the supreme leadership organ between national conventions, determined that all ANC government and party officials accused of corruption must be suspended from office pending investigation and resolution of the charges. No doubt the NEC was moved by, among other factors, public outrage over the perceived corruption of some ANC personalities with respect to disbursement of COVID-19 relief. (South Africa has by far the largest COVID-19 caseload in Africa.) Though some of the party leaders affected by the new policy are allies of Ramaphosa, far more are associated with Zuma. Hence, the NEC, led by Ramaphosa, appears to have taken meaningful steps against corruption while at the same time strengthening the president's position within the party.   

Iraq’s new prime minister has formed a government in the hope of uniting the country’s factions, but challenges in combating corruption, powerful militias, and foreign influence loom.

Pointblank News is reporting that the U.S. Departments of State and Justice are investigating Sabiu 'Tunde' Yusuf, Sarki Abba, Mamman Daura, Ismaila Isa Funtua, and his son Abubakar Funtua for money laundering in the United Arab Emirates and the United Kingdom. Most are members of Buhari's inner circle. Pointblank cites a figure of $800 million used to purchase real estate in the UK and the Gulf states. The U.S. investigation, according to Pointblank News, is being conducted in cooperation with the United Kingdom through the Mutual Legal Assistance Treaty and the United Arab Emirates through the Foreign Account Tax Compliance Act, which levies reporting requirements on, among others, foreign entities in which U.S. tax payers hold substantial ownership shares. But there should be no rush to judgement. It is rare for the Department of State or the Department of Justice to say that there is an investigation underway, and neither has done so publicly. Reporting by Pointblank News has been questioned in the past. On the other hand, Sabiu 'Tunde' Yusuf is known to be very rich, and Nigerian money laundering in the Gulf and the United Kingdom is an old song. President Muhammadu Buhari appears to have little personal interest in money, lives simply, and is rarely accused of personal corruption. But that his inner circle is corrupt is a widely held trope in southern Nigeria. The upper reaches of his administration is almost entirely made up of Muslims from the north, often with personal connections to the president. In a country where it is commonly believed that half of the population is Christian and half is Muslim, the overwhelmingly Muslim character of the Buhari government encourages those opposed to the president, especially among Christians in the south, to believe that his inner circle is corrupt.