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.

 

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.

 

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.

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.

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.