Heads of State and Government

Minister of Tourism Derek Hanekom appears to have been the initiator of the African National Congress’s (ANC) November 27-29 in-house debate over whether to recall Jacob Zuma as party leader. (Zuma survived, but is further weakened politically within the ANC by the episode.) Hanekom, who is white, is a useful reminder that the ANC remains a multi-racial party, though its electoral base is overwhelmingly black. In the aftermath of the ANC’s Zuma debate, some black political officials that backed the president accused Hanekom of “racism,” but others defended him as a full member of the movement, even though he is white. Hanekom and his wife were imprisoned for three years under apartheid. In the post-apartheid Mandela government, he was minister of agriculture (he was a farmer). Subsequently, he has held numerous positions in the ANC government, including minister of science and technology. He has been minister of tourism since 2014. He is at the very center of the ANC party power structure, and he has served on the National Executive Committee, its highest governing body, since 1994. He was the chair of the party’s National Disciplinary Committee that in 2012 was instrumental in the expulsion of bad-boy Julius Malema, who went on to found the Economic Freedom Fighters, a party that now challenges the ANC from the left. He also reflects the liberal social and democratic views of the Mandela generation. For example, in April 2016, he was the keynote speaker at the global convention of the International Gay and Lesbian Travel Association in Cape Town. There he said, “There is a huge economic value in LGBT tourism and it can help our country to get more visitors to come and stay here and spend money in our restaurants and accommodation. We have to change attitudes and break down stereotypes.” Diversity within the ANC extends to policy as well as ethnicity. South Africa is the only African country that permits gay marriage, the result of a court case based on the country’s constitution. Though it and a gay lifestyle is deeply unpopular with the party’s base, the ANC has made no move to amend the constitution to prohibit it.

Over the weekend of November 27, Jacob Zuma faced his greatest political challenge to date, a vote of ‘no-confidence’ from within his own party, the African National Congress (ANC). He had previously survived three no-confidence votes in parliament, where the party rallied around him. This time, however, the challenge, orchestrated by four ministers, was within the National Executive Committee (NEC), the highest governance body within the ANC. The motion of no confidence was introduced by Minister of Tourism Derek Hanekom. According to the media, it was supported by Health Minister Aaron Motsoledi, Science and Technology Minister Naledi Pandor, and Public Works Minister Thulas Nxesi. All four are commonly known to have deep political roots and run their ministries well. The issues were, essentially, credible accusations that Zuma is corrupt with unusually close ties to an influential business family, the Gupta’s. The Gupta family itself is accused of “state capture” in search of lucrative government contracts. The backdrop was the ANC’s significant losses in the August local government elections. Despite media anticipation of a vote, none was taken. Instead there was a three-day discussion of whether the party should “recall” Zuma as the leader of the party. If it had done so, under South Africa’s system of proportional representation, he would likely have resigned as president; current Vice President Cyril Ramaphosa would then become chief of state. According to the media, the debate was fierce and emotional. Zuma has survived, and in public statements the ANC is calling for party unity. But, the episode has likely further weakened Zuma politically within the party. The opposition Economic Freedom Fighters has applied to the speaker of parliament for yet another urgent vote of no confidence. Its spokesmen suggest that there is enough support within the ANC for Zuma’s ouster that, in combination with all of the opposition parties, the vote might succeed. While this is unlikely, even a small number of ANC votes for a no-confidence motion would be yet another indication of Zuma’s declining political power. The danger that Zuma might successfully suborn South Africa’s constitution and tradition of the rule of law for the financial benefit of himself, his family, and close associates such as the Gupta’s seems to be receding.

Below is a visualization and description of some of the most significant incidents of political violence in Nigeria from November 19, 2016 to November 25, 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(’viz1480357510961’); 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); November 19: A suicide bomber was shot dead before they could detonate at an IDP camp in Maiduguri, Borno. Boko Haram is suspected. November 19: Nigerian troops killed seven Boko Haram militants in Kukawa, Borno. November 19: Nigerian troops killed eleven Boko Haram militants in Bama, Borno. November 19: Bandits killed two policemen and twenty-three others in Zurmi, Zamfara. November 20: Sectarian violence led to the deaths of ten in Abi, Cross River. November 21: Boko Haram killed six Cameroonian soldiers and one vigilante in Darak, Cameroon. November 21: Cameroonian troops killed a Boko Haram suicide bomber before they could detonate in Kolofata, Cameroon. November 22: Eleven were killed in a clash between police and hunters in Ona Ara, Oyo (the relative number of police and hunters killed is unknown). November 23: A suicide bomber killed himself and one other in Maiduguri, Borno. Boko Haram was suspected. November 23: Boko Haram killed five Nigerian soldiers in Askira/Uba, Borno. November 23: Fulani herdsmen killed eight in Sabuwa, Katsina. November 24: 1 Boko Haram suicide bomber killed herself and another was gunned down by Cameroonian soldiers in Mora, Cameroon.

Hundreds of thousands of Koreans gathered in central Seoul last weekend in the largest demonstrations South Korea has seen since its pro-democracy movement toppled authoritarian rule in the late 1980s. South Korean opposition leaders provided signs and encouraged public chants demanding the resignation of President Park Geun-hye. These demonstrations are the culmination of a ballooning national crisis that has ensnared the president and her top associates with allegations of hidden influence on government decision-making, extortion, and influence-peddling. Park’s public approval has dropped to an unprecedented low of 5 percent following media reports that she had enabled her family friend, Choi Sun-sil, to extort funds from large Korean conglomerates and to wield extensive behind-the-scenes influence on government decision-making. Park’s efforts to manage the crisis, including two public apologies within two weeks, have failed to tamp down widespread public anger; instead, they have seemingly fueled it. Allegations of Choi’s excessive influence surfaced in summer 2016 with media reports that the Blue House had used its influence and that Choi made payments made in connection with the admission of Choi’s daughter into the elite Ewha Woman’s University, eventually forcing its president to resign. On October 24, the cable broadcast station JTBC electrified the Korean public with reports that Choi had edited several speeches delivered by Park based on evidence found on Choi’s discarded personal computer. The resulting investigations have led to the arrests of Choi and top officials on Park’s staff, as well as allegations that Korean-registered foundations Choi controls extorted tens of millions of dollars from conglomerates. The expanded investigations and media leaks have raised questions about Choi’s influence on several ministries and have led Korean prosecutors to request interviews with Park herself. Park’s misuse of presidential power has enraged and embarrassed the Korean public as never before. Regardless of whether Park immediately resigns, the crisis threatens to paralyze the South Korean government for months. It comes amid heightened anxieties in South Korea caused by the United States’ transition to a Donald J. Trump presidency and North Korea’s push to develop a long-range nuclear strike capability. Because the opposition-controlled National Assembly is intent on paralyzing government functions as a message to Park that her decisions no longer carry legitimacy, South Korea’s finalization of an information-sharing agreement with Japan may be postponed, and the deployment of the Terminal High Altitude Air Defense (THAAD) system, announced by the United States and South Korea in July, will now encounter heightened opposition. Park will no longer join this month’s Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation (APEC) summit in Peru and is unlikely to join a summit with China and Japan scheduled for December. Park’s impeachment or resignation would generate intense debate in the National Assembly. South Korea’s constitution stipulates that resignation triggers an election within sixty days, but none of South Korea’s political parties are prepared to field candidates in such a short time. Corruption Quagmire South Korea has had a long line of corruption cases that involve obligations of friendship crossing the bounds of legality, but Park’s misuse of presidential power has enraged and embarrassed the Korean public as never before. The public’s emotional response stems from a combination of Park’s secrecy, her lack of accountability for Choi’s actions, her seeming admission of connection to the scandals, and national embarrassment that the president would take secret advice on appointments and policies from a friend who exploited her privilege for personal gains. The Choi family’s friendship with Park dates to the days following Park’s mother’s assassination in 1974. The grieving Park was befriended by Choi Sun-sil’s father, Choi Tae-min, a religious cult leader who allegedly claimed he could channel the spirit of Park’s mother. As many of the family’s loyalists cut their ties, Park became ever more dependent on the Chois. The scandal has exhausted Park’s capacity to rule, yet it is unclear how long it will take to replace her. Park made her political comeback in the 2000s more as an icon than a political networker or mobilizer. As a symbol of Korean leadership, she could inspire political loyalty among Korean conservatives by conjuring feelings of nostalgia and determination rooted in Korea’s ability to overcome hardship and modernize. Curiously, however, Park never expanded her personal networks beyond her closest family associates, as other Korean politicians do. As president she rarely holds one-on-one policy discussions with subordinates in her own government and has relied primarily on those in the military and bureaucracy who are institutionally obligated to support the head of government. Park’s aloofness from her own advisors and avoidance of public scrutiny (she conducts only one press conference a year, a scripted affair) have exacerbated public outrage. Where Does Korea Go From Here? The scandal has exhausted Park’s capacity to rule, yet it is unclear how long it will take to replace her. The scandal contains three interrelated aspects that must be addressed to restore political stability in the event of a leadership change: 1)      The legal timetable. The immediate problem for South Korea’s leadership is the pace of the unfolding crisis. Public outrage has outpaced the prosecution’s investigation. The scandal has unfolded so quickly and with such a large public impact that legal processes have yet to play themselves out, making the public verdict demanding Park’s resignation premature. One result of the mismatch between public sentiment and the investigation is that Park has a strong incentive to hold on to power for now despite public demands for her resignation. Moreover, no single individual or institutional representative is authorized to negotiate the terms of Park’s resignation or offer her a quid pro quo. A formal impeachment proceeding in the National Assembly would take time and could engender sympathy for Park, a risk faced by opposition parties. Yet if Korean prosecutors find that there are grounds for impeachment, Park would be immediately sidelined. The prime minister would handle government affairs and serve as the acting head of government. Impeachment would require support from two-thirds of the National Assembly and would have to be upheld within 180 days of passage by a majority of the Constitutional Court’s nine justices. 2)      Political power vacuum. A second dimension of the crisis involves the balance of power within the National Assembly and differences among and within the leadership of each party over how much time would be necessary to prepare for a presidential election for a new five-year term, despite public demands for early action. There is also the question of how Park’s resignation or impeachment might affect the prospects of presidential candidates put forward by each party. The opposition is demanding that Park transfer some or all of her responsibilities to a caretaker prime minister nominated by consensus of the National Assembly to exercise interim responsibility over affairs of state. But the National Assembly’s debate over an interim government may shift toward impeachment proceedings if the prosecutor reports that Park is culpable. (She would still remain immune from prosecution for the duration of her term in office.) While the crisis has illuminated the need for constitutional revision, political parties tend to use such efforts to achieve short-term political gains. Each of South Korea’s three main parties has a slightly different strategy. The largest opposition party, the Democratic Party, controls the National Assembly, so it would likely have the greatest influence on the selection of a caretaker prime minister. Still, such a decision would require support from the smaller opposition People’s Party as well as some members from the ruling Saenuri Party. The difficulty of forging a political consensus on these questions and securing Park’s acquiescence is another barrier to establishing a viable interim government. 3)      Constitutional revision. Having banned discussion of constitutional revision earlier in her term, Park herself reintroduced the question once the Choi scandal broke, presumably to distract political elites. There has been long-standing recognition that South Korea’s constitution, promulgated in 1988, at the end of the country’s authoritarian era, contains procedural flaws, including a one-term limit on the presidency, that should be revised to support a more effective democratic governing system. The scandal has also highlighted flaws surrounding presidential succession in the event of a political crisis and has encouraged more serious thinking on what elements of the national political system should be revised under an amended constitution. First, the provision for requiring an election within sixty days of a president’s resignation has proven rigid and impractical given each party’s need to vet presidential candidates. Second, as South Koreans have debated the possibility of shifting power over domestic affairs from the president to a more powerful interim prime minister, doubts have arisen over whether a two-headed system, similar to the French model, would work well in South Korea, where it is more likely that two leaders would compete with one another rather than share power. Instead, an elected vice president, rather than an appointed prime minister, would be perceived as carrying greater legitimacy in crisis management. Third, the limitation on presidents serving a single five-year term has been perceived as constraining their productivity and effectiveness, leading some scholars to advocate a two-term limit. While the crisis has illuminated the need for constitutional revision, political parties tend to use such efforts to achieve short-term political gains. It is essential that the debate over constitutional revision be managed in an apolitical fashion and on a time frame separate from the current political crisis. This piece originally appeared as an expert brief on CFR.org.

One of the aspects of the utterly dispiriting, just-concluded U.S. campaign and election cycle was the all but complete absence of discussion about the United States and sub-Sahara Africa. It is true that the murder of the American ambassador in Benghazi was a political issue in the campaign. But, Libya is not part of sub-Sahara Africa and the Benghazi debate was about the war on terror and partisan point-scoring, not Africa, even North Africa. Alas, there is nothing new about American inattention to Africa, always leaving aside head-line grabbing episodes of pandemic disease and terrorism. Many Africans expected that Barack Obama’s election in 2008 would result in a transformation for the better of hitherto U.S. inattention to Africa. Given American political realities, African expectations were unrealistic, even if the president’s father was a Kenyan. There were, indeed, two Obama administration initiatives: Power Africa, an effort to harness private and public funding for electrification, and the Young African Leaders Initiative, an effort to develop leadership skills in a democratic context. But, both remained small, and failed to match the influence that George W. Bush’s President’s Emergency Plan for Aids Relief (PEPFAR) achieved. As for the incoming Trump administration, the American media reports much jockeying for influence and position. The president-elect has appointed Reince Priebus, chairman of the Republican National Committee, as his chief of staff, and Stephen K. Bannon, former head of Breitbart News, as his chief strategist. Neither has shown interest in or empathy for Africa. Indeed, Bannon is credibly associated with those who espouse racist and anti-Semitic views. However, neither is likely to be much involved in formulating U.S. policy specifically toward Africa. That will be the purview of the secretary of state, the administrator of USAID, and the assistant secretary of state for Africa. According to the New York Times, leading contenders for secretary of state are Rudolph Giuliani, mayor of New York during the 9/11 al-Qaeda attacks, and John Bolton. The latter is highly experienced in foreign affairs. As assistant secretary of state for international organizations, he spear-headed a successful campaign to secure the repeal of the UN General Assembly’s designation of Zionism as a form of racism. He subsequently was ambassador to the UN under President George W. Bush, where he promoted organizational and administrative reform. In both positions he regularly interacted with African political figures. However, Senator Rand Paul (R-Ky) has already publicly opposed Bolton as too close to the traditional Washington foreign policy establishment. The position of assistant secretary of state and USAID administrator must await the confirmation of a secretary of state. Those appointments may well be delayed for some months after the inauguration.

The publication on November 2 of the South Africa Public Protector’s report on “state capture” by the president and his cronies, the Gupta family, would seem to indicate Jacob Zuma’s direct involvement in corruption. The publication has created a media stir, with the quality Western media devoting more extensive coverage to it than is usual. Yet, the report does not contain a “smoking gun,” but rather calls for an extensive (and well-financed) formal investigation. There is speculation that the ruling African National Congress (ANC) is moving toward the removal of Zuma from office. Such speculation underestimates Zuma’s sources of strength within the security establishment, among certain provincial governors, and the persistence of his patronage network. Indeed, arguably the public protector’s report has generated more excitement abroad than at home, where its broad outlines were already known. Nevertheless, the report is yet another in a string of mostly legal reversals since December 2015 that have progressively weakened Zuma’s political strength. Zuma has lost the support of erstwhile allies ranging from at least some of the party apparatus, known as ‘Luthuli House,’ after the party’s headquarters in Johannesburg, the South African Communist Party, and some of the large trade unions. One ANC elder statesman after another has called on Zuma to resign or for his removal otherwise from the presidency. Even if subsequent investigations of Zuma do produce a “smoking gun,” which is entirely possible, his removal from office by impeachment in parliament is unlikely. The ANC, despite dramatic losses in the August 2016 local government elections, retains a huge parliamentary majority, and many of the MP’s are close to the president. He survived yet another close call today, November 10, 2016, when ANC parliamentarians refused to vote him out of office. The story appears to be different within the ANC. Many party chieftains view the August 2016 elections as a wake-up call, and see the party’s reverses as a lack of confidence in the Zuma administration. Others deeply resent the influence of the Gupta’s over the president, his appointments, and his policies. Others resent Zuma’s apparent corruption, still others are genuine democrats and resent his seeming assault on South Africa’s constitutional institutions. Under South Africa’s system of proportional representation, the president is not directly elected. Instead, he (or she) is chosen by the victorious party, and is usually the head of said party. The party could, therefore, remove Zuma as the president of the ANC. Were it to do so, following the precedent of Thabo Mbeki who Zuma defeated as party president in 2007, he would be expected to resign the presidency. In effect, the party would recall Zuma from the presidency. A party effort to topple Zuma would most likely occur at the party’s national convention. The next is scheduled for December 2017. However, it could be moved forward. If that happens, the likelihood that Zuma will not finish his term increases.

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.