Africa

 by Rise to Peace

UN Peacekeeping Missions in Africa: Introduction and Analysis

Introduction

United Nations peacekeeping operations are meant to help countries down the complex path of peace and reconciliation. Such peacekeeping missions are mandated by the United Nations Security Council (UNSC). A smaller subset of peacekeeping missions, stabilization operations, are not regulated by the UN Charter, but make-up three of the four largest ongoing peace operations. Their legitimacy rests between Chapter VI (peaceful settlement of disputes) and Chapter VII (use of force to restore peace), constituting the so-called “Chapter VI and a half.” These operations are a joint instrument of the Security Council (the highest political authority) and the Secretary-General, the highest administrative and functional authority of the organization.

Peacekeeping interventions are based on some strategic points, including legitimacy, burden sharing, and the possibility of deploying and integrating police forces and civilian personnel. The work that the UN conducts during peace operations is based on three fundamental principles, namely consent to intervention by countries in conflict, impartiality, and non-use of force (unless in self-defense or in defense of the mandate).

Thousands of “Blue Helmets,” the military body belonging to member states and “loaned” to UN missions, have over time morphed from mere observers limited to logistical and technical support to being assigned sensitive functions. They now operate more complex programs including political mediation, de-mining, public affairs and communication, protection and promotion of civil rights, and reintegration of combatants into society. The missions have thus become multidimensional and integrated.

Instability is not just a military fact, with a truce to guard or a cease-fire line to patrol, but has many causes. Stabilization operations thus include ever greater responsibilities, including the democratization of local institutions, economic and social development, environmental and natural resource protection, and the retraining of military forces, police, and prison services, according to modern, democratic criteria.

Africa 

An example of these new and expanded functions are assistance and support missions, which are deployed in countries that have seen the total collapse (or almost total degradation) of state structures, countries such as Libya, Sierra Leone, Mali, Central Africa, and South Sudan. UN functions are also diversified and no longer restrained to patrolling truce lines. They have been involved in such diverse efforts as decolonization in Namibia, independence in Eritrea, protection of populations in the Democratic Republic of Congo, and the transition to democratic regimes after years of civil war in Angola, Mozambique, Central America, or West Africa. All these missions see not only the change in the profiles and structures of the missions but also their composition. 

In West Africa, there are two very different missions, MINURSO and MINUSMA. The first aims to ensure, sooner or later, the holding of a regular referendum in the territories of Western Sahara, still disputed between Algeria, Morocco, and the local population. The mission has been active since 1991 and has 485 units, of which 245 are military.

MINUSMA, in Mali, started in 2013 shortly after the French military operation Serval, which halted the advance of Tuareg and other armed groups towards Bamako. Despite the collaboration with Operation Barkhane (formerly Serval) and the G5 of the Sahel, the area is still deeply unstable. MINUSMA’s annual budget exceeds one billion dollars and over 15,000 military personnel are deployed. The states that support the mission militarily are interested in containing the Malian crisis (Burkina Faso, Chad, Niger, Nigeria, Senegal).

As for Central Africa, MINUSCA is the stabilization mission of the Central African Republic. It was born in 2014, following the outbreak of civil war. Despite numerous peace agreements signed between parties, skirmishes and structural violence remain. The mission has an almost exclusively “regional” character since the troops present are Rwandan, Egyptian, Zambian, Cameroonian, and Senegalese. MONUSCO, on the other hand, is an operation that started in 2010 and aims to stabilize the Democratic Republic of Congo, devastated first by spillover from the Rwandan genocide of 1994 and then by its own wars from 1998 to 2003, which left over 5 million dead.

Additionally, three peacekeeping missions are active in the Horn of Africa, two in Sudan and one in South Sudan. The last one, UNMISS, was born in 2011 in South Sudan. After gaining independence, the country fell into a bloody civil war, dictated by patriotism and exploitation of ethnic tension, which have been intensifying since December 2013.

Analysis

Over the years, this United Nations instrument has been criticized extensively but has also received some positive feedback. Too often, in the initiatives of the powers that act in the name of the so-called international community, in which Africa, politically speaking, seems to be considered more an object than a real subject, the goal of “security” prevails. Very often, the issues of jihadism and human mobility towards Europe are considered separately from other issues plaguing African governments. There is a need for a repositioning of international diplomacy that considers the constant and progressive modification of the African geopolitical chessboard in the age of globalization.

The colonial and postcolonial models, to the test of facts, no longer represent a paradigm of reference in Africa for the control of aid institutions or even investments. The traditional partners of African countries (the former colonial powers) must now compete with the low index of “conditionality” strategies of emerging powers such as Brazil, China, India, Turkey, and Russia itself, which is reappearing in Africa after the withdrawal imposed, about thirty years ago, by the collapse of the Soviet Union.

It is precisely within these parameters that the United Nations, as an organism of peoples, is called to play an indispensable role. It is worth recalling what happened in the early 1960s with the wave of African independence movements. At that time, the UN, established as an organization after World War II with the aim of preventing future conflicts by replacing the ineffective League of Nations, played a politically relevant role.

In particular, the recognition of the principle of self-determination of peoples, sanctioned by the United Nations Charter, received a warm response. International law also outlawed war, in particular, due to Articles 2 & 4 of the Charter, declaring that member states must renounce war and resolve their conflicts.

To weigh negatively on these missions are a series of factors found in many investigations. The first of these factors is the lack of discipline among Blue Helmets and the fact that the contingents are sometimes composed of soldiers from countries where training standards are not adequate for modern crises in Africa. There have also been pervasive issues of sexual violence against women and minors.

Regardless, the United Nations has taken a central and irreplaceable role in the building of congenial international relations in the modern era. In the case of the African continent, the UN provides international legitimacy and an irreplaceable and indispensable forum for negotiation at global level on the issues of development, peace, and security.

in Africa / Rise to Peace blog 0 comments
 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.

 

in Africa / Rise to Peace blog 0 comments
 by Rise to Peace

The Growth and Impact of ISIL in Mozambique: The Difficulties to Defeating their Insurgency

Mozambique’s conflict with the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant (ISIL) has experienced a notable increase in the level of violence within the last year. Although active in the region since 2017, it is only more recently that ISIL’s attacks have escalated in both frequency and severity. The bloodshed caused by ISIL throughout Mozambique has had an alarming impact, evident from the recurring raids on innocent villagers and the growing number of casualties, as seen by the increasing rate of people beheaded or raped.

Furthermore, the details of these raids have become even more brutal and cruel in recent times, in that dozens of the decapitated victims have been young children. This not only serves to highlight the extent of terrorism within the state but its rapid escalation. This merits further discussion and analysis, as it arguably provides an indication as to the future of the insurgency, whether ISIL extremism will continue to grow and intensify, or if they will be ultimately defeated. 

All throughout the country, thousands of citizens have been reported as missing or misplaced as ISIL target their communities at a shocking rate from previous years of the conflict. The statistics reveal that the increase has multiplied several times over, with 172,000 misplaced in the spring of 2020 to over 732,000 this spring one year later. This demonstrates the impact that ISIL has had on a multitude, which has grown exponentially within a relatively short timeframe. This, therefore, illustrates the extent of their power as a terrorist organization. 

To further expand upon this is ISIL’s attack on the town of Palma last March. Although the local security forces were reported to have secured control of the town and defeated the terrorists, ISIL’s actions certainly left their mark there, with multiple buildings destroyed, several dozen military personnel killed and beheaded bodies covering the streets. The main image that can be taken from this fight in Palma is the barbarity and destructive power of ISIL. The counterinsurgencies victory and claim to have retaken the town pales in significance and impact when the atrocities of ISIL are brought to attention.

Upon examining the level of violence by the terrorists, the success of the security forces appears to be a mere detail in comparison to the widespread brutality of the insurgency. The extent of this is that ISIL activity nowadays seems to capture the spotlight whenever their presence is noted, their reputation and crimes far more prominent than the efforts of those who try to stop them.

This interpretation shows an alarming undertone as it can be argued that, regardless of whether ISIL wins or loses its battles with Mozambique’s forces, it leaves behind a clear atmosphere of death and destruction and from this an obviously daunting degree of fear. This fear is evident in that that so many citizens have been misplaced due to the terrorists; hundreds alone fled during the fighting at Palma.

So many in Mozambique clearly feel greatly threatened by the presence of ISIL. Thus, the danger that this organization presents cannot be understated. Indeed, this is apparent given that the primary goal of a terrorist is not always to overthrow a regime, but rather to spread chaos and terror amongst their victims. From this, it can be argued that ISIL is becoming more and more successful when discussing its actions, reputation, and infamy.

A worrying thought that comes from the Palma attack is that, on a certain level, the efforts of Mozambique police and military make little difference. If they are defeated in battles with ISIL, this increases the terrorists’ strength and reputation and damages the state’s morale, as well as likely resulting in a large number of deaths in both security personnel and civilians. However, even if the counterinsurgency technically defeats ISIL, as seen by the fight in Palma, the terrorists will still have been successful in their goal of causing casualties and spreading fear amongst a multitude. It can be determined from this that ISIL stands to gain whatever the outcome of their skirmishes and perceivably always one step ahead of the authorities.

In order to combat them, it has been more recently announced that multiple allies of Mozambique from other regions of Africa have promised to contribute their forces to the effort to eliminate ISIL, whilst Portugal and the United States have been providing training for Mozambique’s troops. Although the results of this are yet to be seen, it makes sense that a strong international backing is likely to increase Mozambique’s chances of defeating ISIL in the long-term. Whilst ISIL is fearsome and enjoys clear advantages in their conflict, it must be remembered that they had a similar experience in the Middle East, yet were successfully driven out. The same can occur in this current conflict. The combined efforts of multiple nations focused on overwhelming ISIL appear to be the best option to ending terrorism in Mozambique.

Overall, it is clear that the extent of ISIL activity and its impact on Mozambique is significantly growing. Furthermore, the threat they pose may also increase and become more serious. Unlike with other conflicts, ISIL terrorism is likely to continue to remain strong as the results of their fighting with local security forces appear to have less consequence for them. So long as they are able to spread chaos and fear, they remain a successful threat.

From this, it is apparent that ISIL is likely to be successful from its current methods. Their position as terrorists makes their ambitions, whilst highly cruel, simpler and easier to accomplish than those of counterinsurgent forces, placing them at an advantage. Despite this, they are not unbeatable and there is hope that the foreign support Mozambique has received will be enough to ultimately defeat ISIL.

 

in Rise to Peace blog 0 comments
 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.

 

in Africa / Rise to Peace blog 0 comments
 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.

in Africa / Rise to Peace blog 0 comments