Heads of State and Government

This is a guest post by Tyler Lycan. Tyler is an intern for the Council on Foreign Relations Africa Studies program, he recently obtained his Masters in International Security Studies from the University of St. Andrews, and is a former U.S. Marine. In This Present Darkness Stephen Ellis inspects the roots of the current culture of corruption in Nigeria. At an abstract level, he presents two, connected theories. First, he argues that the post-colonial political history of Nigeria combined with the economic power of the state’s oil riches created an environment in which fraud and corruption is accepted. Second, he suggests that the spirituality characteristic of many Nigerians allowed for a unique understanding of the interplay between two different worlds: the physical in which they exist, and the intangible world of economics and government institutions. The current political economy is a ‘new’ representation of the spirit world to which they have a long cultural and religious connection. His argument invoking traditional religion is subtle and well-developed; and a short review such as this one cannot do it justice. Hence, the focus here is on his discussion of the historical roots of corruption rather than its metaphysical dimension. While there is no activity during British Colonial rule that parallels exactly the current patterns of corruption, Ellis argues that much of the groundwork was laid then. The divide between North and South was exploited by the British in their effort to extract as much wealth as possible and their use of indirect rule distorted the existing political frameworks in each region. In the North, that included extra-governmental Sharia (Islamic) courts, while in the South it included secret societies and gift giving. In the South, there was a “distinction between public and private” realities that did not exist in Britain. ’Indirect rule,’ colonial governance through indigenous institutions, encouraged a “high degree of deceit and manipulation as to amount to training in subterfuge for anyone who had close experience of it.” According to Ellis, the origin of state corruption in its current form is illustrated by the career of Festus Okotie-Eboh. He needed to borrow large sums of money to achieve political and electoral success. Once in office, he used his position to acquire illegally the funds he needed to pay those debts and amass his own fortune. He pressured those dependant on him, and they in turn preyed on those subordinate to them. Corruption thereby came to infest the whole of Nigerian society. Colonialism in Nigeria created an environment in which fraud allowed individuals to flourish, and the subsequent oil boom of the 1970’s further enhanced a culture of fraud. From 1967-1977, oil revenues increased by 2,200 percent, but was managed with little transparency of sense of the public good by a military government that came to power through successive coups d’état. Yet, strong economic growth inspired many Nigerians to envision their country as on the cusp of superpowerhood, creating an ideology of “Nigerianism” that encouraged acquiescence to a culture of fraud. In summary, Ellis argues that indirect rule by the British created new, and exacerbated old, frameworks of power that were susceptible to fraud. Following independence, Nigerian politics took on a life of trickle-down bribery and fraud that infected all levels of society. Finally, Nigerian oil reserves, national pride, and a culture of consumption led many Nigerians to seek out any means to reach their goals. The implication is that the Buhari administration’s current crusade against corruption should keep this historical roots in mind as it seeks to root out the culture of corruption.

Last week, ExxonMobile announced the discovery of between 500 million to one billion barrels of oil in Nigeria. The discovery is located in the Owowo-2 and Owowo-3 oil fields. ExxonMobile owns a 27 percent interest in the field, it shares ownership with Chevron Nigeria Deepwater (27 percent), Total (18 percent), Nexen Petroleum Deepwater Nigeria Limited (18 percent), and the Nigeria Petroleum Development Company Limited (10 percent). The president of ExxonMobile Exploration Company, Stephen M. Greenlee, said that Exxon “…will work with our partners and the government on future development plans.” The countries oil production had dropped to 1.2 million barrels a day in May due to militant attacks in the Niger Delta, however, the Nigerian petroleum minister claimed on Tuesday that production had recovered to 2.1 million barrels a day. Though, groups like the Niger Delta Avengers (NDA) continue to attack oil infrastructure in the Delta and there is skepticism about the official production figures. The new oil discovery is off-shore. While such facilities are less threatened by insurgent attacks, they are by no means immune. The NDA has carried out attacks on offshore platforms in the past. Nevertheless, the recent ExxonMobile announcement highlights the immense size and potential of Nigeria’s oil reserves

Critics worldwide of South African President Jacob Zuma characterize his administration as “Mafiosi” in style. South African society is characterized by gross inequality, generally with blacks on the bottom and whites on top. Ostensibly, the president’s goal is the “transformation” of this characterization of society, even if that means an assault on constitutional institutions and the rule of law. However, in cahoots with personal allies, notably the Gupta family, instead of “transformation” he is seeking to remain in power and preserve his wealth. Thus far, he has been successfully countered by the strength of South Africa’s institutions, a mobilized civil society, and the democratic faction within the African National Congress (ANC). Calls for his early recall are mounting within the ANC. A trenchant exposition of this “Mafioso” perspective is provided by Richard Poplak, in the Daily Maverick. Zuma and his political allies certainly have been trying to undermine the independence of the treasury, which has in general followed the policies of the “Washington Consensus” with the goal of economic growth rather than redistribution from the rich to the poor. The focus of this effort has been the removal of the well-regarded Finance Minister Pravin Gordhan. The head of the National Prosecuting Authority (NPA), a Zuma ally, indicted Gordhan on corruption charges which were so flimsy as to be clearly politically motivated. A consequence of this assault on the treasury was a rapid fall in the value of the Rand and a rallying of support for Gordhan. However, on October 31, the head of NPA announced that he was withdrawing the charges in the face of overwhelming support for Gordhan from within the ANC and civil society and the near certainty that the courts would throw out the case. The Rand promptly strengthened. The treasury has received good marks from the international financial community. However, with the country’s slow recovery from the 2008 recession and low commodity prices, international financial agencies have raised the possibility of reducing South African bonds to “junk” status. If that happens in December, Zuma may reshuffle his cabinet and thereby remove Gordhan. On the other hand, “junk” status may increase pressure within the ANC to remove Zuma. In the meantime, this episode has probably further weakened Zuma politically, not least within the ANC.

[This post was co-authored with John Polga-Hecimovich*] The increasingly dangerous crisis in Venezuela (described in the first post of this series), has been complicated by the political economy of the Chavista regime. Three aspects of the regime as it has evolved under the Nicolás Maduro government are particularly important to understanding where things stand: the policy centrality of the country’s impending debt default; the absence of an adequate exit strategy for many members of the regime; and the central role of the military as a likely guarantor of any solution to the crisis. Venezuela’s sovereign debt is reaching a critical juncture: the country has payments of US$15 billion due by the end of 2017, against foreign reserves of only US$12 billion. Maduro faces an unenviable dilemma: continue to make debt payments and possibly run out of money to finance imports, or default, which could also deepen the government’s cash squeeze by triggering legal action (i.e. bondholder lawsuits) from creditors, limiting even further the foreign exchange inflows the government desperately needs to finance imports of key staples. The regime has so far opted for the first scenario, managing to kick the can down the road by lengthening PDVSA bond maturities through the recent partial swap. If the government defaults, it would be left with three options for financing: reserves (less than US$12 billion), borrowing in bolívares (whose issuance is already creating hyperinflation), or running arrears. None of these options are good. A second major consideration is the degree to which senior government officials and members of the armed forces benefit from their access to power, and would face consequences with a change in the status quo. Many influential members of the regime are suspected of having made small fortunes through arbitrage (raspao) on top of government policies aimed at altering public prices: selling dollars obtained preferentially on the black market; smuggling foodstuffs and other price-controlled goods; and even profiting from high-yield government debt. Government figures themselves have also spoken of more than $20 billion laundered out of the government through outright corruption. Several leading regime figures, including leading military officials (known as the Cartel de los Soles, for the sun-like emblem that decorates general’s uniforms), are known to have profited handsomely from command of drug transit routes from Colombia in the west. Given that these actors face legal prosecution and even international penalties if Chavismo loses power, they are understandably reluctant to see any kind of pacted solution with the opposition—or even engage any meaningful political dialogue. Irregular armed groups, such as the paramilitary colectivos that have played a major role in repressing public protest, would be similarly disinclined to any kind of compromise that might place them in legal jeopardy. Third, and perhaps least recognized by international observers, the military has become an increasingly influential actor within the Maduro regime, and is in many ways a “de facto branch of Chavismo.” Indeed, after his appointment in July 2016 as head of national food distribution and a coordinating chief of staff, Minister of Defense General Vladimir Padrino López has become a co-president of sorts to Maduro. But the military’s role has been building for a long time. Article 328 of Chávez’s 1999 Constitution established that the national armed forces would play a role of “active participation in national development,” and Chávez relied on the force beginning with the national emergency relief and development project, Plan Bolívar 2000, from 1999 to 2001. Chávez politicized the organization beginning with a series of purges and new patterns of regular reassignment after the failed 2002 coup, and he named close senior military officials—both active and retired—to government positions. A large number of cabinet positions, state governorships, and appointments within the state bureaucracy now go to senior officers. Maduro recognizes the enormous power the armed forces wield, as well as their vested interest in maintaining the status quo: he has named officials to cabinet positions, defended and even promoted those hit by foreign indictments, and surrounded himself by senior officers, tying his own destiny to theirs. Given their power and presence in the government, it follows that the armed forces will be the ultimate arbiters of change in the country. Taken together, these three factors mean that a pacted transition in which Chavismo leaves office voluntarily is possible, but increasingly unlikely. Maduro could plausibly reverse policies, and seek to unwind the current mess through significant reforms agreed to with international actors like the International Monetary Fund (IMF), or perhaps China, which holds a third of Venezuela’s outstanding debt. But he seems ideologically unwilling to do so. More importantly, he cannot disavow Chávez’s policies without risking a backlash from Chavistas eager to preserve the ex-president’s legacy, as well as from hardliners like Diosdado Cabello who would stand to lose a great deal from the end of Chavismo. Similarly, a solution in which Maduro steps down in favor of a moderate, like Vice President Aristóbulo Istúriz, seems likely to face internal opposition from the hardliners who have the most to lose. At this point, the options for a constitutional exit are limited. Article 233 of the Constitution stipulates that the president can prematurely leave office or be constitutionally removed via death, resignation, impeachment by the Supreme Court (TSJ), physical or medical incapacity certified by a medical board designated by the TSJ and approved by the National Assembly, abandonment of office as declared by the National Assembly, as well as by recall referendum—but it does not provide for the figure of impeachment by the legislative branch. The opposition’s goal of putting Maduro on trial in the legislative branch is unlikely to be upheld by the courts or respected by the regime. With a defanged National Assembly, packed courts, and a frustrated referendum, Maduro’s resignation may be the opposition’s best, and perhaps only, option. Members of the opposition seem to be calculating that massive street protests will force the government to open up and hold the recall referendum, or prod the military to either take part in negotiations or replace Maduro. A crucial element of this calculus is the hope that the armed forces would balk at violently repressing massive protests, given its role in the 1989 Caracazo (during which as many as 2,000 Venezuelans were killed). This is a brave gamble, not least because the armed forces are not the only armed actors who could be brought in by Maduro or hardliners in his coalition to repress protesters: the National Guard and the colectivos have been very effective in cowing opposition in the past, and as the 2014 protests made clear, the government is not shy about using these actors to violently repress dissent. To summarize, a recall referendum has all but disappeared as an option. Maduro shows no signs of resigning freely. Yet the critical economic situation also suggests that it will be increasingly difficult for Maduro to hold onto power against a restive opposition without resorting to increasingly arbitrary legal maneuvers such as those employed by regime-controlled courts last week, or violent repression of the opposition. The consequence is that the military is now the central player, whether it is as the muscle for an increasingly authoritarian Maduro presidency or as the ultimate arbiter of his removal. With these factors in mind, the next post in this series evaluates the role of the U.S. and the international community in seeking solutions to the crisis. *John Polga-Hecimovich is an Assistant Professor of Political Science at the U.S. Naval Academy. His research interests include comparative institutions of Latin America, especially the executive and the bureaucracy, as well as presidential instability. He has published peer-reviewed articles in The Journal of Politics, Political Research Quarterly, Electoral Studies, Party Politics, Latin American Politics and Society, and others, and conducted fieldwork in Venezuela, Ecuador, and Brazil. His Twitter handle is @jpolga. Disclaimer: The views expressed in this blog post are solely those of the authors and do not represent the views of or endorsement by the United States Naval Academy, the Department of the Navy, the Department of Defense, or the United States government.

Quartz Africa published a thought-provoking article by Lynsey Chutel titled “The Mystery of Africa’s Disappearing Presidents.” Her take-off point is Malawi’s President Peter Mutharika, who went to New York for the United Nations General Assembly (UNGA) in mid-September and returned home only on October 16. His entourage refused to provide any itinerary. She cites other African leaders who take long ‘vacations’ or otherwise disappear from their countries for long periods of time: Cameroon’s President Paul Biya once spent three weeks in La Baule, France, at a cost of $40,000 per day and later spent two months at the Hotel Intercontinental in Geneva. With respect to the La Baule stay, his spokesman said, “Like any other worker, President Paul Biya has a right to his vacations.” Other African heads of state disappear for “medical reasons.” Because of the general lack of transparency, absence for medical reasons leads to speculation that the president in question has died. Zimbabwe’s Robert Mugabe’s regular trips to Southeast Asia routinely set off such rumors. Sometimes, as in the case with Gabon’s former President Omar Bongo, they do die, even as their spokesmen assure the public that they are in good health. Chutel summarizes: “it’s an all too familiar story for many Africans: leaders’ whose aides swear they’re fit as a fiddle, dying in office under a cloud of mixed messages. A politician admitting to ill health the way Hillary Clinton did during her campaign…is almost unheard of on the continent…” Poor political leadership informs the bad governance that is Africa’s greatest barrier to social and economic development. Chutel makes an important point: the refusal of some African leaders “to be open and honest with the public further shows a disregard for the people who put them in power, and in turn erodes public trust in the leaders themselves.” She raises the hope that as Africa’s population becomes younger, better educated, and part of the information age, the leaders’ behavior that she chronicles will become politically unacceptable: “African presidents have to learn to talk to—and account—to their people.”

This week’s arrest of Eduardo Cunha—the former president of Brazil’s Chamber of Deputies, a leading member of President Michel Temer’s PMDB party, and a principal architect of Dilma Rousseff’s impeachment—is a major turning point for the massive Car Wash corruption investigation that has mesmerized Brazil for much of the past two years. Cunha’s arrest and imprisonment offers an important and overdue corrective to the narrative that the investigation is a political witch hunt aimed at President Lula and his Workers’ Party (PT). The arrest is also in many ways a rebuke to Brazil’s high court, the Supreme Federal Tribunal (STF), which failed to move against Cunha while he had special standing in the STF by virtue of being an elected federal official. Calls to reduce the practical impunity of elected officials in the timid and slow high court may well be strengthened by the increasing evidence of a two-track justice system that privileges the powerful. Finally, the arrest will have huge political aftershocks in Brasília, since Cunha will be under heavy pressure to reach a plea bargain that would allow him to reduce his jail time. While such deals typically take months to negotiate, even the prospect of a deal is likely to drive many of Cunha’s former party colleagues and allies to distraction.

The release of twenty-one Chibok school girls kidnapped by Boko Haram almost three years ago has produced national rejoicing, led by the Anglican primate and a Roman Catholic cardinal. It has also been a popular boost for the Buhari administration, in the midst of an economic recession, ongoing Boko Haram attacks, ethnic conflict in the middle belt, and insurgency in the Niger Delta. The media reports that the freed girls look “emaciated” and that perhaps nineteen were accompanied by babies. Of the still missing girls, it is not known how many are still alive, willing, and capable of being released. One of the released girls says that shortly after their capture, they were separated into two groups – those who would convert and become wives, and those who would not convert and become slaves. Of those otherwise able to return, some of them may choose to stay with Boko Haram. With respect to the twenty-one, many questions remain, with seemingly incomplete and unclear statements from official sources. How the negotiations took place remains unknown, at least to the public. Who in the Buhari administration negotiated with which faction of Boko Haram, and how? What did the Buhari administration give Boko Haram in exchange for the girls? Some media, including the BBC and Agence France Presse, continue to report that the girls were exchanged for imprisoned Boko Haram commanders plus a ransom. Government spokesmen continue to deny that a “swap” took place, and refer instead to “mutual release.” As for the ransom, some of the Nigerian press speculate that it was provided by the Swiss government from looted Nigerian funds found in Switzerland. The International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) states that it received the girls but did not participate in any negotiations. The Swiss government has confirmed that it “facilitated the negotiations,” but the details remain obscure. At an Abuja meeting with ICRC President Peter Maurer, President Buhari reiterated that his administration will talk with Boko Haram “as long as they agree to involve international agencies like ICRC.” “A source close to the negotiations” told a Nigerian newspaper that the release of the next tranche of Chibok girls, perhaps numbering eighty-three, will be based on the government paying ransom and freeing “no fewer than sixteen of the Boko Haram commanders by the government.” Meanwhile, President Buhari appears to be trying to focus international attention on the more than two million internally displaced persons in northeast Nigeria. They constitute an immense humanitarian challenge. Successive Nigerian governments had paid ransom, notably to Niger Delta militants, while always denying that it has done so. A swap of Chibok girls for captured Boko Haram commanders has long been advocated by Boko Haram “face” Abubakar Shekau. However, it is unknown how many of the remaining victims Shekau controls, or who among them is likely, and willing, to return home.

Critics of the Buhari administration continue to protest the October 8-9 Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) arrest of judges, including some from the Supreme Court, for corruption. Initially, the focus was on the rough “Gestapo style” way the arrests were carried out. Now, critics see the arrests as compromising the independence of the judiciary, in theory one of three co-equal branches of government. The issue is that the EFCC is part of the executive branch of government. But, it is the National Judicial Council (NJC) that is charged with questions of removal: the NJC is empowered to “recommend to the president the removal from office of the judicial officers… and to exercise disciplinary control over such officers.” So, the argument is that the EFCC (or any other investigating agency) should turn over its findings to the NJC, which would then take appropriate action. Even supporters of the Buhari administration are suggesting that the EFCC must follow the law, even while they are not directly criticizing the arrests. The Buhari government faces a dilemma. Judges are widely perceived as corrupt, and indeed the EFCC October 8-9 arrests turned up large amounts of cash (in Naira, U.S. dollars, British Pounds, and Euros) in at least one judge’s residence. Yet, the NJC does not appear to have been especially vigilant with respect to judicial corruption.

In the past, there have been numerous false reports that negotiations between the Nigerian government and Boko Haram would result in the freeing of some or all of the more than two hundred girls kidnapped in 2014. This time, the reports are true, and have been welcomed by President Muhammadu Buhari and Oby Ezekwesili, the leader of the #BringBackOurGirls campaign. The Nigerian media reports that many or most of the freed girls have babies, which might have been a criteria for their release. The presidential spokesman said that the negotiations were brokered by the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) and the Swiss government. However, neither the Swiss government nor the ICRC have confirmed this. There are Nigerian media reports that the girls were swapped for four imprisoned Boko Haram operatives. Further, Agence France Presse identifies the venue of the swap as Banki, in northeast Nigeria, to which the four militants were flown by helicopter. However, Lai Mohammed, the minister for information,  denies that there was a swap: “Please note that this is not a swap. It is a release, the product of painstaking negotiations and trust on both sides.” He also said that negotiations would continue. Is a mutual ‘release’ a swap? The Minister’s statement notwithstanding, Boko Haram “face” Abubakar Shekau has long said that the release of the Chibok girls was contingent on the release of imprisoned Boko Haram operatives. It remains to be seen whether the partial release signals a fundamental change in Boko Haram. Many Boko Haram watchers have concluded that the movement has two wings, a larger one led by Abu Musab al-Barnawi, and a smaller one dominated by Shekau. A difference between the two is that the former has been critical of the latter’s bloodshed against Muslims. Observers have also speculated that the Chibok girls are held in different venues. It is certainly possible that the freed Chibok girls were under the control of Shekau, and were indeed released in exchange for imprisoned Boko Haram operatives. But, at this point, that is only speculation.

Below is a visualization and description of some of the most significant incidents of political violence in Nigeria from September 24, 2016 to September 30, 2016. This update also represents violence related to Boko Haram in Cameroon, Chad, and Niger. These incidents will be included in the Nigeria Security Tracker. var divElement = document.getElementById(’viz1475507994291’); var vizElement = divElement.getElementsByTagName(’object’)[0]; vizElement.style.width=’100%’;vizElement.style.height=(divElement.offsetWidth*0.75)+’px’; var scriptElement = document.createElement(’script’); scriptElement.src = ’https://public.tableau.com/javascripts/api/viz_v1.js’; vizElement.parentNode.insertBefore(scriptElement, vizElement); September 24: Niger Delta militants killed six soldiers and lost two of their own in Bakassi, Cross River. September 24: Seven Boko Haram militants and four Chadian soldiers were killed in a clash in Djoroye, Chad. September 25: Four Nigerian soldiers and twenty-two Boko Haram militants were killed when Boko Haram attacked troops in Marte, Borno. September 25: A Boko Haram landmine killed four Nigerian soldiers in Maiduguri, Borno. September 26: Boko Haram killed three in Chibok, Borno. September 26: Cultists killed six in Ogba/Egbema/Ndoni, Rivers. September 28: Nigerian troops killed nine Boko Haram militants in Gwoza, Borno. September 29: Kidnappers kidnapped the wife of Nigeria’s Central Bank Governor in Oredo, Edo. September 30: Nigerian troops killed seven Niger Delta militants in Bakassi, Cross River.

Pollsters’ best bets were radically overturned in Colombia Sunday, as widespread apathy and torrential rains dampened turnout in the referendum on the peace deal. Opponents of the deal appeared as surprised as anyone at their own victory, triumphing by fewer than 55,000 votes in a country of 33 million voters. Abstention topped 60 percent, and the “No” side won with the support of less than one-fifth of total voters, by a margin of 0.16 percent of those eligible to vote. As the Washington Post’s Nick Miroff noted in a fast reaction piece, the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC) are probably the biggest losers of this surprising upset: voters did not buy the guerillas’ makeover into legitimate political actors or feel the need to offer them concessions, such as limited jail time or guaranteed legislative representation. President Juan Manuel Santos and his exhausted negotiators come a close second in the losing column. Although holding the plebiscite may now look like a mistake, it should be noted that there were good reasons to go down this path: the possibility of the plebiscite gave negotiators leverage to extract concessions in Havana, promised greater legitimacy, and was procedurally far preferable to the constitutional convention that the FARC had initially demanded. But now four years of very intense negotiations have landed in the dustbin, the opposition led by former President Álvaro Uribe will be emboldened, and any new deal seems likely to face an even steeper uphill battle. Several unanswered questions will guide developments in the aftermath of this cataclysmic vote: Did the Santos administration and the FARC mean it in September when they repeatedly said that this was the only deal possible? Both FARC leader Timochenko and Santos seemed to walk back their previous statements on Sunday night. Promisingly, Santos pledged to keep the ceasefire in effect and Timochenko said negotiations would resume. But the bargaining space for the government side has shrunk dramatically, which suggests that the only real way forward is through concessions by the FARC. Given that such concessions would probably involve losses that were unacceptable to the FARC the first time around—surrendering political rights or accepting jail time, for example—it is hard to envision the path forward. This leads to a second question: how representative is Timochenko’s leadership of the FARC? There were already small pockets of opposition to the deal reported within the FARC, and failure to achieve success in the voting booth could presumably further undermine leaders’ internal standing. The FARC leadership has already made costly concessions premised on peace, including opening the group to outside observers, initial demobilization, and the destruction of munitions. How strong is the current leadership’s grip on the force, and how many new concessions can the FARC negotiators make without losing internal support? More generally, what does the FARC do next? News reports out of the guerillas’ 10th Conference suggested that many fighters were looking forward to life at peace, sleeping in the open and starting up normal lives. Does the FARC have the capacity to return to violent opposition if negotiations falter, or has the past six months’ movement toward peace sapped individual fighters’ resolve? Do renewed negotiations serve as cover for regrouping, or is there genuine commitment to finding a deal? What form does a new peace deal take? The Constitutional Court’s August ruling on the peace deal suggested that the government would be not be permitted to implement any of the deal if it were rejected at the ballot box. But could there be a workaround through passage of alternative legislative bills, as La Semana suggested in a post-vote analysis? Or would legislating an alternative deal without the cover of a popular plebiscite be politically suicidal, if voters feel that the October 2 results should only really be overturned by another national vote?Already, Santos seems to be suggesting by his actions—including the return of negotiators to Havana and a call for broad discussion among all the political parties—that a new deal is the only way forward. But there may be a broad gamut of potential alternative strategies, ranging from deepening the ceasefire and complementing it with legislative changes that provide partial gains, to calling a constituent assembly to address the issue. There is also, of course, the possibility of simply throwing in the towel, and waiting for the next president to deal with this in 2018. But Santos seems to have staked too much on a deal to spend the next two years sitting on his hands as a lame duck. What will the opposition do with this unexpected victory? It seems unlikely that the “No” victory would lead to Santos’ resignation, as some uribistas initially hinted, but how does the opposition translate this political manna into concrete policy? Does the victory enable Uribe or other opponents to push for a return to a get-tough policy against the FARC? Does it allow them to push for concessions for government actors, such as military personnel, involved in wrongdoing during the war? And is there any possible peace made by the Santos government that the uribistas could be convinced to support? Uribe seemed to be carefully calibrating his message on Sunday night: perhaps recognizing the narrow win and fearing a backlash, he noted that all Colombians want peace, but not any peace. How will the opposition position themselves next, and what levers will they use to ensure that they continue to be heard? Correction: October 5, 2016 An earlier version of this blog post included the following sentence. “Rural areas, which have been the primary victims of the violence, voted strongly against the agreement.” This was based on an early report from the Miami Herald. More recent data suggests that rural areas nationwide may not have lined up quite so solidly against the deal. Therefore, we have removed this assertion and thank our readers for their eye to detail.

The National Union of Mineworkers (NUM) endorsed Deputy President Cyril Ramaphosa for the presidency of the African National Congress (ANC) on September 26. The election of party president will take place in 2017; the next presidential elections will take place in 2019. Under South Africa’s system of proportional representation the ANC party president is likely to be the next president of South Africa. Cyril Ramaphosa was a founder of the NUM as a black trade union in the late apartheid era. A lawyer, he was a leading ANC negotiator of the peaceful transition from apartheid to South Africa’s “non-racial” democracy that culminated in Nelson Mandela’s election as president in 1994. It is widely said that Mandela favored Ramaphosa as his successor, but he bowed to the will of the party and endorsed Thabo Mbeki. Thereafter, Ramaphosa left politics and accumulated a substantial fortune. He re-entered politics in 2012. In the aftermath of scandals and court judgments against it and it’s very poor electoral performance in the August 2016 elections, the scandal-prone administration of President Jacob Zuma is in a shambles. Zuma retains significant support within the party machinery, state owned enterprises, and among the heads of the security agencies. He also commands the loyalty of a big patronage network. Those ANC party leaders who want Zuma to go before the end of his term in 2017 so that the party can rid itself of scandal and rebuild following its relative defeat in August, have rallied around the finance minister Pravin Gordhan. They include Ramaphosa. At present the pro-Zuma and anti-Zuma factions appear to be evenly balanced and governance largely at a standstill. At the same time the NUM endorsed Ramaphosa, its secretary general said that “Zuma must serve his term.” NUM may be seeking a compromise between the pro and anti-Zuma factions: Zuma gets to remain in office until the end of his term as president of the ANC. But, he is blocked from choosing his successor. That would, in effect, further reduce Zuma’s political power for his remaining time in office. ANC faction fighting is likely to continue. That Ramaphosa will prevail is far from certain. He is much more popular in London and New York and within parts of the South African business community than he is among the ANC rank and file.

The Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) has frozen U.S. dollar bank accounts that former Nigerian First Lady Patience Jonathan claims are hers. The total value of the accounts is worth $31.5 million. She has applied to the Federal High Court in Lagos to unfreeze the accounts. Many Nigerians, including the Nigeria Labour Congress, are asking how she accumulated $31.5 million in the first place. It is hard to see how Patience Jonathan could have piled-up such a large amount of money. Now fifty-eight years of age, she is Nigerian-university educated, and has taught off and on and held various civil service jobs in her oil-rich native state, Bayelsa. She went into banking in 1997. When her husband, Goodluck Jonathan, became deputy governor of Bayelsa, the governor made her the state’s permanent secretary, the pinnacle of the state civil service. The appointment was widely criticized as she had no obvious qualifications for the post, and had been out of the civil service for years. After her husband became chief of state, she was known for her arrogance and imperiousness, and she is widely disliked. As first lady, she insisted on the use of the title of “Dame.” (There is no provision for a first lady in the Nigerian constitution; the wife of the current president calls herself ‘Mrs. Buhari.’) She also made political blunders. Shortly after the Boko Haram kidnapping of the Chibok school girls, in a meeting with community leaders, she accused them of fabricating the abduction to give her husband’s administration a bad name. Stories circulate that she collected fees for access to her husband. At present, she is in London, ostensibly for medical treatment. As is often the case with grand corruption at the top in Nigeria, the details are murky. According to the media, some of the accounts were opened in the names of Patience Jonathan’s domestic servants, who had no access to them. Her lawyer claims that $15 million of the frozen money was paid by the Nigerian state for her medical treatment in the UK. Because she is so widely disliked, there is always the danger of leaping to conclusions. Nevertheless, judging by the media and social media, most Nigerians regard her as guilty. With his wife under investigation and facing likely arrest should she return to Nigeria, the corruption issue is getting close to former President Goodluck Jonathan. But moving against the former president, who remains popular in the predominantly Christian south and east, could pose special challenges for the Buhari government. The average Nigerian is very poor, poorer still with the current state of Nigeria’s economy. They have little access to quality health care while elites almost always go abroad for medical treatment. Patience Jonathan’s expensive ‘treatment’ is typical of the corruption Nigerian elites are often known for. Popular indignation over corruption under Patience’s husband played a major role in Muhammadu Buhari’s victory in the 2015 presidential elections.

A year ago, presidents Barack Obama and Xi Jinping stood next to each other and declared that neither the U.S. nor Chinese governments "will conduct or knowingly support cyber-enabled theft of intellectual property, including trade secrets or other confidential business information for commercial advantage." Despite a great deal of warranted skepticism about the agreement initially, much of the heat surrounding cybersecurity in the bilateral relationship has dissipated. It is Russia, and the alleged hacks of the Democratic National Committee and World Anti Doping Agency, that now dominates the headlines and drives much of U.S. cybersecurity policy discussion. When he announced the agreement, President Obama warned “We will be watching carefully to make an assessment as to whether progress has been made in this area.” The available evidence suggests that the overall level of Chinese-backed hacking has gone down. FireEye released a report in June 2016 that claimed the the number of network compromises by the China-based hacking groups it tracks dropped from 60 in February 2013 to less than 10 by May 2016. Absence of evidence is not the same thing as evidence of absence, and the Chinese may be becoming more stealthy and sophisticated in their attacks. Indeed FireEye noted that decline in number of attacks may be accompanied by a rise in the sophistication of attacks. U.S. Assistant Attorney General John Carlin confirmed the company’s findings that attacks were less voluminous but more focused and calculated. Chinese hackers may have shifted their focus to other targets. Kaspersky Labs reported Chinese hacking of Russian defense, nuclear, and aviation industries rose nearly threefold in the first seven months of 2016 A month after signing the agreement with the United States, China inked a similar deal with the United Kingdom, and, in November 2015, China, Brazil, Russia, the United States, and other members of the Group of Twenty accepted the norm against conducting cyber-enabled theft of intellectual property. The United States and China have also held two round of cyber talks between the U.S. Department of Homeland Security (DHS) and Chinese Ministry of Public Security (MPS), the first in December 2015, the second in June 2016. At these meetings, Washington and Beijing agreed on the guidelines for requesting assistance on cybercrime, discussed establishing a hotline, and conducted tabletop exercises. In August, the Ministry of Public Security reported that the hotline between DHS and MPS was up and running. The shift in Chinese hacking seems to have been driven by external and internal forces. Over a two year span, the United States mounted an aggressive naming and shaming campaign, indicted five People’s Liberation Army (PLA) hackers, and, in the weeks before the September summit, hinted it would sanction Chinese individuals or entities that benefited from cyber-enabled theft. Xi Jinping’s anti-corruption campaign and the clamp down on criminal use of state resources as well as efforts to modernize the PLA and bring cyber operations under more centralized control may have also produced the decline in hacking. Former National Security Agency official Dave Aitel argues that the Chinese move to a higher grade of hacking, and increased capabilities across the board, make it more likely that the United States and China will be able to cooperate in cyberspace. As Aitel puts it, "You don’t have to hack EVERYTHING if you can hack ANYTHING," and this allows for collaboration on areas of shared interest. I am less optimistic. Beijing and Washington do have shared interests in cybersecurity—preventing the proliferation of capabilities to non-state actors; limiting attacks that threaten global financial networks and the integrity of the internet—but it is very difficult to convert these shared concerns into concrete cooperation. Moreover, strategic mistrust is high between the two sides, and they remain divided over many other digital issues, including the free flow of information, internet governance, data localization, and how to best secure information technology products and supply chains. But Aitel is right that cooperation would certainly be nearly impossible if the high rates of theft of intellectual property were continuing. Let’s hope that the attacks on the private sector remain low, and that the United States and China can build on the agreement in other areas of cyberspace.