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 by Stefan Bakumenko

The Crisis in Cabo Delgado: A Policy for a New Generation

This is the final piece in a series examining the ongoing extremist threat in Mozambique.

After understanding Cabo Delgado’s history of economic marginalization, socio-political agitation, and geographic remoteness, one might not be surprised by the government’s military-oriented approach to dealing with ASWJ. With politics dominated by FRELIMO since independence, Mozambique ranks 149th in the world on Transparency International’s Corruption Perceptions Index. Consequently, only 27% of Mozambicans see a difference between the ruling party and the state.

The central government has long lacked credibility in the region due to its ties to criminal networks, acquiescence to foreign companies, and a highly publicized scandal in which government officials hid and pocketed $2.2 billion in off-budget loans. Cabo Delgado is also home to the single largest private investment in Africa, Total SA’s $15 billion liquefied natural gas (LNG) project along the coast. But this project has provided little profit or opportunity to the locals, fueling further discontent and rent-seeking. 

Missteps and Militarization

For the past few years, the central government has outsourced its handling of the ASWJ crisis to foreign mercenaries. The notorious Russian Wagner Group was initially deployed but replaced by the South African Dyck Advisory Group (DAG) after sustaining losses. In 2021, Amnesty International accused government forces, ASWJ, and DAG of war crimes targeting civilians, and DAG let its contract lapse in April.

The governments of South Africa, Zimbabwe, the United States, and the European Union have all expressed their commitment to resolving this crisis, and their assistance initially came as advising, training, and financing government forces. But these government forces are the same ones frequently accused of extrajudicial killings, arbitrary arrests, torture, and harassment of civilians. 

And now international military involvement is escalating. South Africa, a regional leader, initially ruled out putting boots on the ground but ended up sending soldiers to extract its foreign nationals from the siege of Palma. Last month, the Southern African Development Community (SADC) approved the deployment of its standby force, but much of its makeup and mission remain unclear. In early July, President Paul Kagame of Rwanda preempted them, sending 1,000 troops in a bid likely meant to increase Rwanda’s sway in the region. The EU also announced its own military mission, staffed primarily by Portuguese, to provide further training to Mozambique’s armed forces.

The government and its partners seem to be making the same mistakes that the Portuguese made when battling guerrillas in the very same region. Over the course of their ten-year fight to keep their colony, the beleaguered Portuguese made various attempts at dislodging FRELIMO from Cabo Delgado. Yet, they never seemed to try the classic counterinsurgency strategy of developing communities and protecting the populace. This, local support was pulled away from the guerrillas. Instead, they swept the jungles of Cabo in the massive Operation Gordian Knot, which ultimately failed due to its onerous death toll and resource drain. This lack of community outreach, paired with blind military violence, only perpetuated the grievances fueling the insurgency. The same cycle of government rigidity and insurgent vitality appears to be the case in modern Cabo Delgado.

Attention and Investment

The chorus of international funds and troops meant to pacify Cabo Delgado has mainly reinforced this militarized approach. International partners must instead only finance those government initiatives which support rather than antagonize communities. They must also be more discerning in which squads they are funding and training, pulling support from those government forces with bad track records on human rights and battlefield conduct.

It seems that the West has yet to learn in its dealings with Islamist insurgencies that military force and weapons proliferation are not conducive to de-escalation. Throughout the war with FRELIMO, Portugal’s semi-fascist dictatorship also formed alliances with the West, yet for all the intelligence, finances, and training provided from abroad, Portugal could not pacify Cabo by the strength of arms alone. 

In the 1960s, Cabo consisted primarily of smallholder peasants growing cash crops. Today, though this region remains largely rural, there are increased opportunities in coastal trade and energy extraction. Yet, the youth see few of the benefits. The locals should be enabled to participate in their own economy, and this starts with conscious governmental policy. Instead of abusing already-marginalized communities, the government could push the conflict in a constructive direction if it took a whole-of-society approach to peace in Cabo. This involves responsive community policing, accountability for rights violations by security forces, development partnerships that include local businesses, investment in infrastructure and education, increased space for journalists and civil society, and consultative mechanisms to communicate with locals. These are the practices and institutions that international partners should be funding instead, even if they must be built entirely anew.

Conclusion: 

One can reasonably conclude that the conflict in Cabo Delgado is only going to intensify, and will remain a major security issue in southern Africa. Though international actors from the West to SADC have expressed their willingness to provide training and even troops, the history of Cabo gives little reason to be optimistic about external intervention. The people of this resource-rich coastal province have experienced purely extractive, disinterested economics for centuries, from Britain to Portugal to Total SA. And yet, when hundreds of youth take up arms under a salvationist banner of Salafism, the government and its international partners immediately opt for clumsy militarization and pacification.

Though their violence has been brutal, meeting the insurgents on the battlefield does little to solve the problems that energized them in the first place. Instead, anyone concerned with actually de-escalating the conflict must look to NGOs, local activists, and social institutions that should be invested in and listened to.

 

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 by Stefan Bakumenko

The Crisis in Cabo Delgado: A Familiar Road to Extremism

This is the second piece in a series examining the ongoing extremist threat in Mozambique.

Cabo Delgado, the northernmost region of Mozambique, has been plagued by a radical Islamist insurgency since 2017. But it is only in the last couple of months that the conflict has become a staple of the international news cycle. This relatively low-level insurgency has been carried out by Ahlu-Sunnah Wa-Jama (ASWJ), locally known as al-Shabaab (the youth).

The dramatic siege of Palma, where they terrorized a large district capital for four days in March, and the growing identification of ASWJ with the Islamic State, has prompted a recent whirlwind of pledges and policy responses from international actors.

Though next week’s piece will discuss the methods and missteps of the government and its foreign partners in handling the crisis, we must first understand this seemingly rag-tag group that has evoked such a mass mobilization of troops and resources from around the world.

Identities Along the Coast

Islam has a long history in Mozambique, dating to the 8th century when Muslim traders and conquerors began traversing much of the Indian Ocean, including East Africa. For centuries, Sufism, or mystic Islam, was dominant among Cabo’s Muslims. But the global expansion of traditionalist Salafism and Saudi-oriented Wahhabism in the 1950s and ‘60s produced greater antagonism towards older forms of Islam in Cabo. The new imams and cadres criticized Sufism for allegedly deviating from Islamic doctrine and being too accepting of Western vices and values. 

Three such mosques became staples of the community in Mocímboa da Praia, a district in Cabo Delgado. There, preachers and coastal youth were put in touch with the larger transnational network and ideology of Salafism. Particularly, the teachings of the late Sheikh Rogo. Rogo, sanctioned by the US and UN for supporting Somalia’s al-Shabab, sought the creation of an Islamic State. Upon his death, several of his students immigrated to Cabo. Even though the three mosques have since been shuttered by authorities, many of their adherents became foot soldiers for the nascent ASWJ.

But the at-risk youth who populate Cabo Delgado, are just as vulnerable to socioeconomic pressures as they are to the ideological. ASWJ’s mixture of fundamentalism and banditry offers a sense of belonging, alongside material gains to Cabo’s youth. These young people have been largely disengaged and disillusioned with Mozambican politics, living under the same party their whole lives, with very little economic opportunity even when a trove of natural gas is discovered right in their community.

Relative deprivation theory, elucidated in Ted Gurr’s 1970 classic Why Men Rebel, holds that social upheaval occurs when communities see opportunities that they can’t access. One then understands the path connecting long-abandoned youth to an insurgency eager for recruits.

Identities Exploited for Violence

The March 2021 siege of Palma, capital of Cabo’s northernmost district, can be seen as the culmination of four years of skirmishes and terror across the Mozambican-Tanzanian frontier. ASWJ’s structure and membership originally came from the three mosques in Mocímboa da Praia. It was there that they first declared war. Since their two-day occupation of Mocímboa da Praia in 2017, ASWJ has rapidly increased the scale and number of attacks. This was from 110 attacks between October 2017 and June 2019, to 357 in the first nine months of 2020 alone.

Similar economic woes and shared communal identities have also caused many Tanzanians to come across the border and fortify ASWJ’s numbers and resources. Adding to their momentum, in 2019 the Islamic State (IS), claimed ASWJ as a branch of its Central Africa Province. Consequently, observers have noted that ASWJ uses similar tactics to IS and sometimes waves its notorious black flag during raids.

In what seems like death by a thousand cuts, the people and infrastructure of Cabo Delgado have been bled dry by hit-and-run tactics and cruel, destructive violence. Over 4,000 have died and 600,000 have been displaced thus far. Consequently, the UN recently warned that almost one million people face severe hunger in the region.

Barely able to regain Palma, Mozambican forces will likely be unable to determine the death toll from this bold assault. As a result, the government believes it will take at least $114 million to rebuild Palma. Now the government, much like the Portuguese half a century ago, is left to deal with an insurgency in a region where outside involvement has rarely been constructive or peaceful, and guerrillas are able to sustain themselves for years on end.

A great deal of troops, guns, and finances will be siphoned into the area, but blind violence will likely be unable to dislodge the insurgency. This insurgency is dually rooted in the spiritual conceptions the people have of themselves and the very real experiences they live through every day. Only by understanding this can effective policy be made.

 

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 by Stefan Bakumenko

The Crisis in Cabo Delgado: A Region that Perseveres

This is the first piece in a series examining the ongoing extremist threat in Mozambique.

On March 24th, Islamist insurgents besieged the district capital of Palma in northern Mozambique, leaving dozens dead and a town in ruins. Tens of thousands were uprooted, and Mozambican security forces barely managed to retake Palma, though some believe the insurgents abandoned it willingly. Particularly important for international observers were the hundreds of foreigners residing in Palma. These included those who were primarily there to work at the massive natural gas plant of French multinational Total SA.

Several foreign nationals were killed when they tried to escape a hotel they had been trapped in for days. Consequently, over a hundred others were rescued by private contractors with the South African Dyck Advisory Group (DAG). Locals were largely left to fend for themselves or scramble to nearby settlements.

This dramatic four-day assault renewed attention on a conflict that has been simmering for years. But the Cabo Delgado region, where Palma is located, is no stranger to protracted insurgency and the societal rifts that accompany (and facilitate) it.

The first piece in a series, this article plots the fractious history of Cabo Delgado, both a center of conflict and creative energy in southern Africa. Subsequent articles will dive deeper into the insurgency. This will include what can and is being done to combat it. Intervention by international actors in the region will also inform this discussion. At times, this will be understood as part of the problem, not the solution. Ultimately, the conflict in northern Mozambique goes deeper than War on Terror narratives of Islamist fundamentalism, and must instead be looked at as a series of societal grievances and geopolitical facilitators of violence.

What Colonialism Took

Mozambique’s modern history, as a colony and as a country, is rife with international interference, proxy conflicts, and porous borders through which various insurgencies have spawned. “Discovered” by Vasco de Gama in 1498 and subjected to various forms of Portuguese exploitation in the centuries since, Mozambique was one of the oldest remnants of European colonialism by the era of decolonization in the mid-1900s. The Portuguese were detached, brutal, and extractive in their relations with Mozambique, providing little by way of infrastructure or institutions. Virtually all literate, economically stable Mozambicans (of which there were few) lived in or near the capital of Lourenço Marques (now Maputo) in the south. 

Cabo Delgado, the farthest north province, thus was historically one of the most underdeveloped and disconnected from the Portuguese economy, and between 1894 and 1929 was a concession of the royal British Niassa Company. After Niassa, poorly-run peasant cooperatives were undermined and exploited by the Portuguese, who crushed solidarity movements and rounded up locals for forced labor (chibalo). 

The tipping point for anti-colonial consciousness and radicalization came with the Mueda Massacre of 1960 in Cabo Delgado, when the Portuguese killed over 500 locals protesting against economic exploitation and mismanagement. Portuguese repression forced a great many Makonde refugees and migrant workers north into Makonde-majority Tanzania, and Mueda became a cause célèbre for the expatriate independence movement which they would join there. The people of Cabo Delgado thus developed a legacy. This was both as highly mobile people and the rank-and-file of Mozambique’s anti-colonial insurgency. They were largely fighting for independence and community control over resources.

Organized and supported by newly independent Tanzania and its charismatic leader Julius Nyerere, the Mozambican Liberation Front (FRELIMO) initiated an agrarian, anti-colonial insurgency against the Portuguese on September 25th, 1964. Led by southern Mozambican students and dissidents, but composed mostly of Makonde migrants-turned-soldiers, FRELIMO streamed across the jungles and plateaus of northern and northwestern Mozambique to raid Portuguese patrols and take over rural villages.

Cabo Delgado would become FRELIMO’s main stronghold in this decade-long war for independence, its dense jungles, underdeveloped infrastructure, and largely rural population acting as textbook facilitators of guerrilla warfare. As will be shown later, these factors persist into the present day. Thus, allowing an Islamist insurgency to evolve and barring the Mozambican government from mounting a proper response. 

What Independence Gave

The insurgents finally achieved independence in 1975 but were immediately pulled away from improving the lives of their rural Mozambican supporters by a pro-apartheid, Western-supported insurgency in the center of the country. With the Mozambican Civil War engulfing communities and subjecting the nascent state to a myriad of foreign influences, the hopes of Cabo Delgado and its youth, perhaps the most crucial support system for FRELIMO over the previous decade, would be extinguished. 

In the years following independence, poverty and inequality in Cabo worsened, alongside increases in government corruption and external control of key mining and oil industries. The 2010 discovery of oil in Cabo Delgado did not bring jobs or wealth to its struggling youth. Extractive foreign companies brought their own gas workers from abroad. The corruption, rent-seeking, and inequality that followed became one of the major sources of resentment and radicalization. This was leading up to the 2017 initiation of hostilities by local Islamist insurgents.

Understanding extremism in Cabo Delgado, like in many parts of the world, requires more historical, structural insight than much of today’s security discourse would have it. As we will explore later in the series, strategies of kill and capture, militarization, and repression will merely leave destruction in their wake.

To truly “combat” extremism in Cabo, policy-makers must recognize the traditions of struggle and adaptability among its people. This is essential amongst the youth. War and disappointment have painted their history for a half-century. Nonetheless, an informed development policy and a serious commitment to it would be vital in changing their fortunes.

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 by Rise to Peace

The Sahel Region: Current Crisis and Challenges

Context

Over the past fifteen years, the Sahel and West Africa have become the hub of clandestine trafficking and the heart of the fundamentalist terrorist network. The proceeds of illicit trafficking (migrants, drugs, weapons, etc…) and the generous ransoms given by European governments to obtain the release of their citizens, victims of kidnappings, (mostly concentrated in the central-western Sahel), are fundamental sources of financing for terrorism.

The movements linked to Al Qaeda in the Islamist Maghreb (AQIM) and to Daesh are concentrating their tactical projection capacity in the Sahara and the Sahel, territories among the most difficult to manage on the planet in terms of size and climatic conditions, in order to establish an Islamist caliphate from the Atlantic Ocean to the Red Sea.

AQIM forces are currently present in Niger, Chad, Mali, and Mauritania, but the terrorist network is also easily gaining ground in other states such as Algeria and Tunisia due to successful recruitment drives. Their expansion is based on a strategy articulated in two phases. First, they’ve tried to progressively root themselves in the central-western Sahel. Second, following the gradual extension of their power into neighboring countries, they aim to attract greater finances and greater international media attention, attention only set to increase as Western countries continue to pump resources into stabilizing the area.

A Sahel caught between today’s structural weaknesses and future challenges

The most dramatic effects of recent extremist campaigns are suffered by the local populations, of whom the majority are far from radical in their beliefs. Two coups in Mali, in August 2020 and May 2021, have only accentuated the lack of local administration, the different governments’ inability to unite the country and its ethnic groups, the structural corruption, and the failed attempt to secretly negotiate with extremist parties.

Several factors have also caused great concern not only in Chad but throughout the Sahel region, exponentially increasing the perception of further regional instability. One factor is the recent death of the President of Chad Idriss Déby at the hands of militant forces on April 20, 2021. The other is the unreliability of governments like those of Mali and the Central African Republic, both of which are now witnessing the recent, drastic French decision to suspend years-long military cooperation.

Over the years, major powers such as the United States and Russia, as well as international organizations such as the United Nations and the European Union, have created different task forces and coalitions to liberate and stabilize the Sahel region, but largely without success.

How is it possible that such a concentration of forces, funds, and efforts has failed to assist the region in building more transparent and effective administrative management? The above-mentioned weaknesses, combined with corruption and lack of state services in local communities, water the increasingly fertile ground for extremist growth and strategic success.

The “multidimensional” international stability operations led by the United Nations, in theory certainly positive, have had negative effects causing instability and scandal. Missteps grew to the point of generating popular protests, in Congo and Mali for example, by the same population to be protected. They have done little to address the problems of local administration, overall security, societal inclusion, and community development.

Conclusion

In the future, the crisis in the Sahel could become increasingly serious in light of the previously-listed structural weaknesses and the growing fatigue of international allies. How should interested parties move forward? There are several hypothetical action plans at both the national and regional levels that could guarantee greater stability for the countries of the Sahel plagued by extremist violence.

First, following coalition failures and the withdrawal of France from Malian soil, the security community should encourage an increase and a change in peacekeeping commitments by organizations such as the UN and the EU, as well as the G5-Sahel (Mauritania, Mali, Niger, Burkina Faso, Chad) and the African Union.

At the regional level, it is essential to underline the fact that up to now military responses have not been sufficient for defeating terrorism, a phenomenon that is primarily social rather than military. Indeed, one might first focus on problems such as unemployment, health care, education, infrastructure, water access, and agricultural support. This is the best way to weaken extremist influences in the Sahel before eradicating them militarily.

Further failure of the various sub-regional, regional, and international organizations involved would allow for greater destabilization and violence, with the potential to expand into even more countries in the region.

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 by Rise to Peace

Recent Attacks in the Ethiopian Tigray Region and its Implications for Peace

Context

Ethiopia is a federation, made up of a federal government and nine member states. However, this social fragmentation is considered a source of conflict due to the political and economic inequality consolidated in the institutional and cultural fabric of the country.

The regional political parties, representing local ethnic groups, are often in opposition to the central government, as in the case of Tigray. The state-region of northern Ethiopia, under the control of the “Front for the Liberation of the Tigrinya People” (TPLF) Party, recently refused to participate in the merger of the various ethnic governments. This was on the basis that they did not lose their autonomy. Such dissensions have ignited armed clashes between the Ethiopian armed forces, and the armed militias of the TPLF. They are the best trained and equipped in the nation.

A few days ago, the Ethiopian air force struck the market of Togoga, a village located in Tigray. The attack caused the death of many civilians and as a result, placed a spotlight on the crisis, underlining its gravity.

Challenges to the peace process

The recent attacks as well as the non-stop heated conflict, affect the already precarious security and peace of the Horn of Africa region. How? By analyzing the conflict, it can be understood that the four main aspects of security are not guaranteed to the Tigray population. These are listed by academic, P.H. Liotta. 

First, human needs such as access to food resources are denied, as militias have looted and destroyed crops, stolen, and killed livestock, thus causing severe famines.

Secondly, is the little respect for human rights. Since the start of the clashes, there have been millions of internally displaced people and thousands of rapes against women. This includes the elderly and young females.

The third aspect concerns the social sector and development. To the security-development nexus, the more secure a country is, the more it has the possibility to improve. This is from an economic, political, and social viewpoint. This is likely due to the fact that the development will lead the state not to fight again. At the moment, Ethiopian authorities’ energies are concentrated mostly on power struggle, rather than the development of infrastructures or the education of the population.

The last point focuses on environmental issues. The upheaval of the ecosystem has threatened the environmental security of Tigray. This is caused both by the actions previously liste, and by the countless fires that have burnt many Tigrinya fields. 

How to act? The ceasefire requests, the access to humanitarian assistance, and the national dialogue. In reality, if they are not accompanied by concrete measures to safeguard the Ethiopian civilian population, they risk being ineffective. 

More active diplomacy is necessary. This includes the opening of negotiation channels between the federal government and the TPLF authorities. This is necessary to gradually and proportionally encourage the use of all means available to interrupt the cycle of violence and reach first a negative peace. Or, in the absence of any act of violence, to reach a positive peace with global well-being.

Conclusion 

Peace and security go hand in hand. However, the situation in Tigray is far from seeing positive implications. Hopefully, the political actions that can restore peace in the Horn of Africa region, will prevail as soon as possible. 

The UN and the EU are studying the heated conflict, with the well-being of the population at heart. With this, the pillars of international law come into play. This includes the right of non-interference and the responsibility to protect. However, this is another story.

 

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 by Rise to Peace

What Can Afghanistan Learn from Rwanda?

When the war in Afghanistan finally ends, an estimated 50,000 to 60,000 Taliban fighters will have to be reintegrated into Afghan society. The current generation of Taliban fighters has known little besides war for the majority of their lives. For many, their opposition to the Afghan government and life as an insurgent has formed a key element of their identity. While this might at first cause anxiety about the possibility of reintegrating these fighters into civilian life, the example of reintegration in Rwanda provides a reason for optimism.

Context

The Rwandan genocide was one of the bloodiest events of the twentieth century. Beginning in April of 1994, Hutu militias, indoctrinated into a genocidal ideology by demagogic politicians and “hate radio,” murdered their fellow Tutsi citizens without mercy. Within a mere hundred days, 800,000 people were murdered.

Over 300,000 Rwandans have spent time in prison for their crimes during the genocide. While Rwanda Correctional Services’ main responsibility was overseeing these incarcerated Rwandans, they also provided services useful to the reintegration process. Prisoners were advised to be honest with their loved ones about the crimes they committed, to be understanding if their partner had entered a new relationship, and to work to embrace their identity as a citizen of Rwanda. Some prisoners were provided preparation for employment while incarcerated.

Other participants in the genocide who admitted their guilt and expressed remorse for their crimes chose to participate in TIG (a French acronym for “works of general service”). In exchange for staying out of prison, these citizens have agreed to complete unpaid work to repay their debt to society. TIG participants have been involved in building roads, constructing houses, agriculture, mining, and manufacturing.

Many former genocidaires have only recently been released from prison and allowed to return to their communities. Many have received a warm welcome. They are greeted by neighbors who are eager to reconnect and given small gifts like soda pop and beer. Some former genocidaires even manage to have meaningful relationships with the families of their victims.

Rwandan society has chosen to move forward. Recently released Rwandans often comment on the nation’s economic development since their incarceration. Government investment has provided livestock to farmers and helped boost Rwanda’s growth rate to an average of 8% over the last two decades. It is now the second-best place to do business in all of Africa. While powerful commemorations are held every April 7 to remember the genocide’s victims, daily life in Rwanda is now concerned with more simple economic issues: home construction, the agricultural season, and employment.

While reintegration in Rwanda may at first appear to be a niche issue, it makes apparent the possibility of reintegration and forgiveness after even the most extreme instances of violence. Rwanda’s example can provide lessons that are applicable to the case of Afghanistan.

Lessons

Reintegration is a difficult and painful process but it is far less costly than continued fighting. The Afghan government and the foreign powers financing both sides of the war will have to make a serious investment in the reintegration process. This process must be pragmatic and not just symbolic. While truth and reconciliation processes can be psychologically beneficial for ex-combatants, they will not deter another outbreak of violence. Given the influence of money in driving the Afghan war and Afghanistan’s general culture of impunity, it must be in the self interest of Afghanistan’s ex-combatants to accept peace.

Like Rwanda, Afghanistan must successfully foster a spirit of citizenship among participants on all sides of the conflict. While Afghanistan’s long history of decentralized governance makes this difficult, it is a necessity if there is to be a long-lasting peace. A commitment to reconstruction, economic development, and small business projects would be a significant start.

However, these projects must steer clear of the corruption and connections to poppy cultivation and trafficking that plagued previous development initiatives. Pursuing simple programs consisting of only small transfers of cash —like the Rwandan government’s “one cow” program— could help avoid these problems. These programs must not discriminate against ex-combatants. The Taliban must have a stake in Afghanistan’s future if they are to be reintegrated into society.

When a peace agreement is signed between the government of Afghanistan and the Taliban, the Taliban will be free men. Compelling them to take part in the sort of reintegration programs and commemorations that Rwandans do will be near impossible. Instead, they must voluntarily rejoin their communities. Through the construction of economic, social, and religious interdependence, Taliban fighters could find peace to be in their self interest. While reintegration will prove a difficult task, it will certainly be far less difficult —and less costly— than another outbreak of war in Afghanistan.

— Connor Bulgrin

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 by Rejeanne Lacroix

Are There Any Lessons for Afghanistan from Post-Civil War Algeria?

Wars manifest differently in various locales: however, accrued insights can be considered in other scenarios. The Algerian government experienced a brutal decade-long intra-state conflict against Islamist extremist groups that ultimately ended in a statist victory. An official end to conflict left the proverbial door open to experiments in hard and soft government policies to combat terrorism and transition former fighters into contributing members of society. While the Algerian case is imperfect (as in any security matters reliant on fallible political will and resources), it offers some broad lessons for Afghanistan.

Two Very Different Conflicts

Afghanistan has been entrapped in 40 years of conflict, but the last 19 confronting the Taliban have transitioned from primarily a militaristic question into discussions of democracy and the role of traditional elements in any future manifestations of the state. As often noted, the Taliban do not recognize the current government in Kabul as legitimate and ultimately seek an Islamic emirate as their preferred choice of governance. Still, in the circumstance that intra-Afghan dialogue results in a viable and resilient peace deal, matters of disarmament, demobilization and reintegration (DDR) have to be hammered out, understood, and prioritized.

The civil war in Algeria emerged very differently. Islamist nationalism simmered for decades, but general dissatisfaction over socio-political factors caused by government inefficacy climaxed in the 1980s. As an aside, disenchanted young men travelled to training camps in Peshawar, Pakistan in order to fight against the Soviet Union in Afghanistan. It was there they gained experience in insurgent tactics and guerilla warfare.

After the 1988 Black October riots (where security forces used excessive force that resulted in injury and death), the fall of the one-party political system dominated by the Front de Libération Nationale (FLN), and the emergence of the Islamist political party Front Islamique du Salut (FIS) as victorious in local elections, the stage was set for a political fissure.

The FIS defeated the FLN in the first round of parliamentary elections in December 1991, however those in the deep state, les décideurs (the deciders) and le pouvoir (the power), considered this unacceptable. A second round of voting was cancelled by the military and they staged a coup d’état against President Chadli Bendjedid. From this point, civil war slowly but surely materialized. Extremists travelled to the north of the country to train while bombings and targeted killings occurred.

Numerous Islamist insurgent groups took up arms against the government. The armed wing of the FIS, the Armée Islamique du Salut (AIS), was composed of moderates that eventually entered into a ceasefire with Algiers in 1997. As part of the deal, the AIS was required to distance itself from hardline affiliates and used this opportunity to pursue a path as a political party. Further, the FIS continues to be barred from the Algerian political process though they maintain an existence by proxy. Even so, they acknowledge a political settlement is the definitive goal as they once sought a (failed) resolution with the Algerian government — the Sant’Egidio Platform.

On the other hand, hardline factions pushed the envelope. The Groupe Islamique Armé (GIA) had battle-hardened insurgents from the Afghan front in their ranks as well as former members of Bou Yali — a faction that previously engaged in armed rebellion against state institutions. It was a collective objective to topple the civil-military political arrangement and replace the government with an Islamic caliphate. Additionally, the Groupe Salafiste de Predication et du Combat (a breakaway from the GIA) acted as a key force and this is extremely important as the GSPC are often considered the foundation of al-Qaeda affiliated groups that continue to incite regional security concerns.

The Algerian Civil War first sprung in 1991, but ultimately ended in 2002. It is often called la sale guerre (the dirty war) due to the heavy handedness of the Algerian security forces to counter the insurgency whilst Islamist groups were rebuked for their attacks on civilians. Nonetheless, a fractured country immediately faced the situation of how to reach any semblance of unity as well as deescalate any further eruptions rooted in disparate views of governance. These next steps may provide the Afghan situation some insight.

Disarmament, Demobilization and Reintegration

In the case intra-Afghan talks reach a sound negotiated settlement, questions over the future of former Taliban fighters remain open. Many elements must be considered such as the extent of the radicalization of individuals or whether they took up arms due to coercion or for gainful economic payouts.

Undoubtedly, Algeria had to contend with a large number of insurgents. Algiers pursued a hard approach to managing extremist groups, especially those intent on the establishment of a caliphate or challenge political security. This was a double-edged sword as the austere measures employed by government forces often crossed acceptable lines and ushered in disapproval in the populace.

Some extremist groups never renounced violence and that is to be expected no matter the quality of any peace accord. The GSPC rejected the 2005 Charter of Peace and Reconciliation that was passed with a 97% approval rating in a referendum simply because they preferred to continue as a terrorist faction. This was a significant blow as they were the largest group still active from the civil war and shared connections with known transnational terrorist organizations.

For example, al-Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb (AQIM) is a direct outcome of insurgent groups that did not lay down their arms in the post-civil war period. Fragmentation typical of terrorist organizations meant that Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant – Algeria Province (ISIL-AP) splintered from AQIM and thus it is yet another distant offspring of past fighting.

Extremist organizations are ready to absorb any fighters unwilling to embrace peace and lay down their arms. In Afghanistan, there are numerous groups dedicated to violent methods so this remains an underlying problem, therefore hard approaches must be considered in any future outlook,  though they are not particularly a sunny matter. Just as Afghan security forces require support to ensure national security, Algerian security forces continue to conduct operations in areas of the country known for being hotspots of operational development or locales where insurgents typically and unassumingly cross the border into conflict-riddled Mali.

At the same time, Algiers promoted a soft approach. Afghanistan does not have the same economic means as hydrocarbon-rich Algeria, but both struggle with weak government and contracted economies. Nonetheless, Algeria ushered in a series of economic reforms to secure financing from the private sector as well as international partners. Dividends from these investments as well as energy revenues were allocated towards social programming, such as housing incentives and prospects for employment in state-funded positions. It is often noted that social discontents and the lack of viable employment opportunities prop up the effectiveness of extremist recruitment tactics so it is wise to solicit resources to nip this phenomenon in the bud.

Clemency was sought for those insurgents that were members of radical factions that did not commit serious crimes such as large scale indiscriminate killings or bombings. In clemency, willing fighters found an avenue to reintegrate into their local communities. Those that were convicted of grave offences — but willing to renounce violence — received lighter prison sentences. Some were not convicted or imprisoned at all due to a lack of evidence as crimes committed during civil wars are often messy and ambiguous. This was obviously problematic as justice must come prior to reconciliation and it must be completed in a method that aligns with the zeitgeist of local communities.

While political Islam did not amass an especially large following, extremism exhibited by factions during the civil war turned the Algerian populace even further away from related political philosophies. It is often remarked that Afghans will not renounce the progress and development that has occurred over the last 19 years. Algerians reached similar conclusions. At ongoing political protests, protesters were wary of the involvement of political parties that played a role in the civil war, and one stated, “we are vaccinated against the FIS and its excesses.” A similar viewpoint could be easily expressed by Afghans who are tired of war, Taliban attacks, and chronic stagnation.

The role of women has been transformed from solely a human rights issue into an instrument of combatting extremism in Algeria. While it may seem facetious for a government to adopt this position to highlight the differences between acceptable forms of governance and extremism, women have generally benefitted from this arrangement. A similar approach can be extended to Afghanistan insofar as infringement upon the rights of women has become a red line that will not be crossed or negotiated away. In the words of a young Afghan woman, “We as women need to tell the Taliban that…this is a new Afghanistan.” Highlighting this element is a definitive difference between two philosophies and an applicable lesson from Algeria.

Conclusion

Intra-state conflicts are as unique as the nations that sadly end up engaged in them. Similarly, the means in which a state achieves relative peace will be reflective of its unique political culture. No perfect process exists nor will it ever.

At the same time, experiences of other states that have confronted extremist groups in intra-state conflicts offer valuable insight for others that must engage in disarmament, demobilization and reintegration. The aftermath of the Algerian civil war taught observers that attractive financial incentives, clemency for foot soldiers, and the tactical use of civil society issues in the context of a negotiated political settlement provided a means to quash further extremist rebellion in the long term.

This framework does not totally subjugate the overpowering allure of terrorism therefore the continued application of the repressive state apparatus is required. The situation is different in Afghanistan, but the case study of Algeria provides interesting food for thought.

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 by Rise to Peace

Women’s Roles in Al-Shabaab: Deeper Understanding and Research Is Needed

women 300x167 - Women's Roles in Al-Shabaab: Deeper Understanding and Research Is Needed

The ‘daughters’ of Al-Shabaab, armed with assault rifles. Credit for image and caption: Al Jazeera.

In April 2019, it was reported that recent studies over-emphasise the role of men in terrorism, therefore overlooking and underestimating the influence of women. Accounting for over 15-25% of membership in terrorist organisations, women possess a significant role in the recruitment, operations and delegation of terrorist groups, to name a few.

Data originating from the Western Jihadism Project revealed that the role of women in such organisations take the form of traditional gender roles, where women are less likely to be involved in the planning of attacks, and more likely to support the organisation “behind the scenes”. Given this context, this piece will explore the role of women, specifically within the Al-Shabaab.

A woman in the Al-Shabaab operating in Kenya participated in an interview held in 2015 with an Al-Jazeera reporter. She recounted to have given shelter to Al-Shabaab members, whilst they referred to her by the name “Mother”. This woman also stated that she remembers providing accommodation to a young man named Ikrima. Ikrima would later be identified as one of the planners of Westgate Mall attack in Nairobi that left over 67 people dead.

Consistent with this woman’s account, it is identified that women in the Al-Shabaab play the role as “wives” of fighters, and partake in domestic activities. Women in the Al-Shabaab are reported to also be used as sex slaves, in addition to helping to attract new recruits. These women are often tricked into the Al-Shabaab by being lured with the prospect of employment, counselling or financial support. Some of these women who escaped have shared their stories, though they lived with the lifelong emotional, psychological and even physical scars inflicted upon them by the group.

In 2017, one woman stated that she had fell victim to this luring, and shared her account of the horrors she experienced while she was forced into sexual slavery by the Al-Shabaab. This woman recounts being smuggled from Kenya into Somalia and was brutally beaten and raped by as many as six Al-Shabaab men. One day, when the camp was empty of men, she managed to escape and encountered authorities who helped her to a hospital and eventually back to Kenya. She later learned that she was infected with HIV. The Al-Shabaab are reported to use women in sexual slavery to control the breeding of the next generation.

With consideration to the foregoing, not all women within the Al-Shabaab are tricked or lured into operating with the group. Recent studies have shown that there exists women voluntarily travel to Somalia to support the group’s agenda. A ‘key aspect’ to the Al-Shabaab’s operations is that Somali officials (such as officers or border control agents) do not recognise nor do they perceive women as a threat, allowing women to seamlessly pass through security checks. Therefore, women are often tasked with the transport and smuggling of weapons and go undetected at checkpoints. They are also tasked with gathering intelligence and information for the Al-Shabaab, as their manoeuvres and actions as women often pass without arousing suspicion.

The concern raised here is that the role of women within the Al-Shabaab remains under-reported, overlooked and rather unexplored. Continued research and analysis should be therefore encouraged regarding the significance of the role of women in the Al-Shabaab. Moreover, it must be emphasized that not all women within the Al-Shabaab are working with the group voluntarily, and a greater issue that must be addressed are the women who voluntarily join the group.

It has been reported than many young women specifically from Kenya travel to Somalia to join the group. These women often feel helpless in their former communities, and severe poverty often push them to join the Al-Shabaab. Another motive for women joining the group are their feelings of resentment towards Kenyan authorities who may have mistreated their sons or husbands. Joining the Al-Shabaab is therefore a form of retaliation and revenge, and analysts have even reported that for these women, joining the group is a form of empowerment.

However, as previously mentioned, once these women have experienced the reality of their role within the group (the brutal treatment and being forced into sexual slavery), women are left with two core choices: either remain in the group or attempt to return to Kenya. Those who remain in the group have reported that they stay because of fear or hopelessness. Those who attempt to return to Kenya face difficulty in returning to their former communities, and even face extrajudicial killings by Kenyan authorities if it is discovered that they were in Somalia assisting the Al-Shabaab.

The vulnerability and precarity of women’s roles in the Al-Shabaab necessitates more profound research, and equal recognition when conducting studies related to the group’s operations. Although not all women are tricked into joining the extremist group, resources can be made available to all women to provide education of the realities of the horrors of the Al-Shabaab. It has even been suggested that Somali forces should encourage more female presence of officers within their commands, to empower women and to demonstrate that there are options to empowerment, and that they need not to join the group.

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 by Rise to Peace

AMISOM and an Approaching 2021 : Is Somalia Prepared?

burundi amisom 300x200 - AMISOM and an Approaching 2021 : Is Somalia Prepared?

Photo Credit: Photographer Ilyas Ahmed for AMISOM.

In March 2019, it was unanimously decided by the United Nations Security Council that the African Union Mission in Somalia (AMISOM) would maintain its deployment and reduce uniformed personnel by 1000, in conformity with the prevailing plan to steadily transfer these responsibilities to existing Somali security forces. Resolution 2492 (2019) therefore authorises this reduction, allowing a maximum of 19, 626 AMISOM personnel by 28 February 2020. As the end of AMISOM’s mission is approaching in 2021, prioritised tasks for the mission include, as previously mentioned, the gradual handover of security responsibilities to Somali forces and reducing the threat posed by the Al-Shabaab.

Moreover, the Security Council authorised other key tasks to be achieved before 2021: the securing of key supply routes to areas recovered by Al-Shabaab, the conducting of ‘targeted offensive operations’ in support of the transition plan and assisting the Government of Somalia in the implementation of a total ban on charcoal exports. However, the Council has also expressed grave concerns for the ongoing humanitarian situation, namely the conflict and sexual violence that civilians continue to be victims of. It is recognised that AMISOM cannot remain in Somalia forever, and with the mission set to end in 2021, a fundamental question is provoked: is Somalis ready for AMISOM’s departure?

To provide a concise context, it is necessary to reiterate that AMISOM was established in Somalia as a regional peacekeeping mission between the African Union and the United Nations. Created by the African Union’s Peace and Security Council in January 2007, AMISOM had an initial mandate of six months. Fast forward to August 2017, the United Nations Security Council had issued a new resolution where the security responsibilities would be shifted gradually from AMISOM to the Somali security forces ‘continent on [the] abilities of the Somalis security forces and political and security progress in Somalia’.

The Al-Shabaab, also known as “The Youth”, are commonly known as an Islamist ‘insurgent group’ with its base in Somalia. The group has claimed their allegiance to other known terrorist groups such as the Al-Qaeda, and are responsible for several massive attacks throughout Somalia as well as neighbouring countries.

Though the foundational objective of the Al-Shabaab has been debated by professionals of various backgrounds, Bronwyn Bruton of the Atlantic Council has stated that the ‘unifying idea of Al-Shabaab is opposition to the Western-backed government.’ It is also stated that the group’s main aim is to establish an Islamic State in Somalia. The group is known to possess harsh interpretations of Sharia law, headed by the current leader, Ahmed Umar (also known as Abu Ubaidah), the ‘emir’, or ‘prince’. To fund their operations, the Al-Shabaab has engaged in the illicit charcoal trade that has brought over $7.5 million USD per annum, notwithstanding the United Nations ban on charcoal in effect since 2012.

The United States’ has been long concerned with Somalia potentially becoming a country where terrorist groups find ‘refuge’ in to plot attacks to the United States or to ‘destabilise’ the Horn of Africa. Furthermore, another core concern is the Al-Shabaab’s recruitment of the Somali diaspora residing in the United States. It has been found that many Americans, predominantly from Minneapolis, Minnesota, have volunteered themselves to fighting for the Al-Shabaab in Somalia. This aforementioned fact coupled with the Al-Shabaab’s enduring presence and recruitment in Somalia are cause enough for concern of the Somalia’s security personnel’s ability to handle the situation on their own in a little over a year from now. Shrinking resources certainly are of no help to them in confronting this issue themselves, come the end of AMISOM’s mandated involvement December 2021.

In addition to the physical and military power, the sheer logistical concerns of Somalia’s availability of security forces in states other than the capital of Mogadishu are alarming. In select regions where AMISOM will no longer hold presence, no security forces exist and therefore will have to be ‘built from scratch’– a time and energy consuming task.

With reports stating that the Al-Shabaab remains in control of approximately 20% of Somalia, this transition of security measures from AMISOM uniformed personnel to the Somali security forces has been observed to be a point of vulnerability, where it is feared that the Al-Shabaab may use this transitory period to their advantage in carrying out more deadly attacks. Just in late March 2019, the Al-Shabaab carried out a deadly attack at a Ministry building in Mogadishu, claiming over 15 lives. It was noted that though the group has been pushed out of former major strongholds, attacks such as these demonstrate that they remain capable of carrying out massive violence and sending the capital into a state of fear and instability.

To establish any surety in the Somali security force’s capability to handle the Al-Shabaab and overall instability in the country as of December 2021, the current transition plan can consider shifting its major focus to building a stronger Somali security force presence, as well as a re-evaluation of the transition priorities to perhaps add more pressing concerns.

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 by Mathew Tyris

Digital Repression Keeps the Crisis in Sudan Hidden from the World

15042019 sudan 300x169 - Digital Repression Keeps the Crisis in Sudan Hidden from the World

Photo Credit: Photographer Ahmed Mustafa of Agence France-Presse

“How Come My Heartbreak Isn’t Loud Enough?” This message signifies the calls of the Sudanese people who yearn for democracy. The issue is, few in the international community are aware as Sudan’s authoritarian regime restricts citizens’ access to the internet to deter pro-democratic demonstrations, and hide government actions against its own people. Sudan has many challenges to overcome to secure its democratic freedom and in order to do so, Khartoum must restore its digital freedom to share its struggle with the world.

Authoritarian regimes such as Gabon, Zimbabwe, Chad, and the Democratic Republic of the Congo have all blocked internet access to its citizens in the first three months of 2019. Sudan takes this repression a step further.

On April 3, a council of generals assumed power in the country against the wishes of democratic demonstrators who sought civilian rule. As a result, Sudan’s government shut down internet access to its citizens as a means to stop pro-democratic movements from mobilizing. Democratic movement activists are reduced to using text messages and secret meetings in order to organize and share information. This alternative process seems primitive compared to the share power of Twitter and Facebook.

Demonstrators engaged in a sit-in protest in Khartoum on June 3. The world did not seem to notice that this public activism turned violent when government forces used deadly force against protestors. Reports state that 30 anti-government protesters have been killed. Twitter users began to use and share the tag #BlueforSudan to spread awareness of the violent repression and support the Sudanane pro-democratic movement. Currently, Twitter users report closer to 500 deaths and 623 injured.

The blackout in the country appears to be working. With no video, pictures, or other forms of media coming from Khartoum, these atrocities are only verified by witness accounts. Major international media outlets seem weary to pick up the story.

Greater media coverage on the situation in Sudan is needed. Reporters and journalists are barred from entering the country however, there are additional means of information gathering. Al-Jazeera and NPR have both spoken to people about the occurrences, but additional coverage is required to increase awareness globally.

The United Nations Security Council recently debated the situation in Sudan and attempted to forward a unified bid condemning Sudanese actions. The draft was vetoed by China, with the backing of Russia and Kuwait, claiming it needed amendments. China claims it is an “internal issue”, while Russia asserts that the situation needed to be handled with extreme caution. Eight European nations condemned the actions by Sudan’s security forces, but as it stands, no formal action has been taken.

China typically defends Sudan’s government and its atrocities. An interest in Sudanese oil is linked to this stance. Since the discovery of oil in 1997, China invests heavily into the northeastern African nation and subsequently, defending it at the UN, even when action is needed. A transfer to a democratic framework puts Chinese oil imports in danger.

Following the coup this past April, Sudan announced that they will have a three year transfer to democracy.  On June 4th, Sudan’s government said they will have a ballot box election in nine months. The fear is that this mode of election will be rigged to favor the current administration.

The UN conducts election monitoring, when assistance is specifically requested, and this presents an opportunity to ensure a fair election in Sudan. This mechanism is beneficial if citizens doubt the integrity their national electoral process and seek outside assistance. A UN representative from the particular state, a mandate from the Security Council or General Assembly (GA) can initiate this process also. A GA mandate would be ideal, seeing the Security Council’s recent blocking to condemn Sudan’s actions.

International media outlets must report on Sudan’s current democratic struggle so that the country can have free and fair elections. These actions are only possible if the Sudanese government lifts its restrictions on civilian media, primarily internet access, so that interest builds in the situation. Media organizations must seek additional means, such as establishment with reliable sources, despite information blocks. The global community would devote greater attention to the crisis in Khartoum, and create a unified front, if they knew the state violence conducted by the Sudanese government.

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