Red Pepper » Justin Pearce

Aspiring to Tahrir

admin — Fri, 23 Dec 2011 12:07:05 +0000

Ever since protests in Egypt brought down one of Africa’s longest-serving leaders, activists in places as far apart as Senegal, Angola and Ethiopia have been declaring their own ‘Tahrir Squares’. People have taken to open spaces in African capitals to protest against corruption, poverty and leaders past their expiry dates. So far, the ‘Tahrir’ label represents an aspiration rather than an accurate description. Protests south of the Sahara have mainly numbered in hundreds rather than many thousands, and there is no prospect just yet of any change of government, even if the grievances that drove the protests of the Arab Spring are familiar to many Africans elsewhere on the continent.
As someone who studies African politics, I keep being asked whether the protests in north Africa will have an impact south of the Sahara. It’s a tough question, not least because of the problems of generalising about a continent that is home to a billion people with diverse histories and political traditions. If there is a common African experience, it has to do with the continent’s incorporation into the world economy on terms that have remained unfavourable and the way in which social and economic relationships within Africa were forever changed by the experience of colonialism.
A new book by two African academics (Politics in Africa: a new introduction, Zed Books) suggests that the end of colonialism in Africa was not so much a grand march to freedom as a deal stitched up between the departing Europeans and local elites answerable to nobody. Nana Poku and Anna Mdee argue that political legitimacy in independent Africa, as much as in colonial times, depends on force rather than a social contract. The advent of multi-party democracy in the 1990s reshuffled the elites rather than introducing a representative mode of politics.
No one expects very much from their government, and this is reflected in the cynicism with which people speak not only of their rulers but of politicians in general. ‘Voting doesn’t fill the belly,’ a Mozambican journalist told me after the 2004 elections, when dissatisfaction with the government was manifested not in votes for the opposition but by record low voter turn-out. ‘Radical’ and ‘moderate’ in Africa were little more than labels that leaders adopted to signal their belonging to one or other global club of nations in the cold war. So it’s no surprise that many people are sceptical about ideological claims.
Another legacy of colonial rule is violence. Memories of violence may nurture fear over decades. In Angola the violent reprisals that followed a coup attempt in 1977 were cited until recently as a reason why people were reluctant to criticise the government. Just like anywhere else, though, African states are most likely to wield the boot when their ability to rule by consent is under threat.
Politics is the art of rulers convincing the ruled that they share the same interests. Tales of anti-colonial liberation remain a powerful ideological tool, particularly in countries where memories of white rule are recent. It is no coincidence that anti-imperial rhetoric has re-emerged at a time when economic globalisation and the pressure on African states to accept unfavourable terms of trade have undermined the capacity of African leaders to renegotiate the terms of their country’s position in the global economic system. Instead, anyone attempting to challenge the ruling party has to defend the charge of being counter-revolutionary.
‘Tribalism’ is an accusation that non-Africans use to write off African politics as irrational. It is more accurate to say that local ties are strong in parts of the continent, and that some leaders have done well out of stoking regional or ethnic rivalries. Former Kenyan president Daniel arap Moi was notorious for this. Kenyan politicians still think out strategies in terms of building ‘ethnic coalitions’. A political culture that puts regional solidarity above all else – implying common interests between, say, a peasant farmer and a local politician-cum-businessman – is an obstacle to organising on class lines around issues of national importance.
Trade unions were important in the Egyptian revolution, and unions have also long been a base for political organisation in many countries further south. But formal employment in Africa is becoming rarer, and informal sector workers have yet to find effective ways of organising. Michael Sata’s election as president of Zambia – even if Sata, 74, hardly represents political fresh air – demonstrated that labour issues can still be a rallying point, at least in countries where mining and manufacturing are important.
Sata also demonstrates how long the founding generation of African statesmen seems determined to stick around. But the causes for optimism in Africa are to be found in the young ages of the street protesters: a generation that may lack political direction but that at least maintains a healthy scepticism towards the myths and fears of the past. Technology is on their side. Internet access is uneven across the continent but is getting better. Social media fanned this year’s protests, and YouTube has helped show supportive diaspora communities what’s going on back home. The real change may come once smartphones are as ubiquitous as Nokia 1100s are today.
Justin Pearce is a research fellow at the School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS) in London

Contracts to corrupt

admin — Fri, 16 Apr 2010 12:33:51 +0000

The MPLA (Popular Movement for the Liberation of Angola), the party that has ruled Angola since independence in 1975, last year affirmed its status as a party of the left, concerned with the most disadvantaged members of society. The reality is rather different. In a country that produces two million barrels of crude oil a day, and which is a major energy supplier to the US and China, the political elite enriches itself while most people see little benefit from the oil boom.

Any kind of opposition initiative quickly gets stifled or co-opted in Angola, but one of the few outspoken critical voices has been that of journalist and activist Rafael Marques. Having previously researched human rights abuses in Angola’s oil and diamond producing regions, more recently he began investigating corruption, and pinpointing who exactly is benefiting from the wholesale privatisation of state assets, as well as from lucrative contracts resulting from inward investment in oil and construction.

What does your research tell us about how Angola is governed?

For the past three years I have been investigating Angola’s political economy through the government’s decisions vis-à-vis the privatisation process, state contracts, national legislation, theft of state assets, and local and foreign beneficiaries. The official data I have been able to collect, and local knowledge, allow me to chart what is really happening and how, the web of players, and individual and corporate interests.

So far, I have been able to establish that government officials, particularly from the presidential inner circle, are the main businesspeople and private investors in the country. The most important business contracts involving the state benefit mostly government officials’ private business interests in association with foreign enterprises. Corruption is the mainstay of foreign investments in the country, and it is done in the open because of the impunity of the officials with whom outside investors establish business partnerships.

There is also an unprecedented transfer of state property and funds to the private ownership of government officials. This happens through the council of ministers, in which the president and ministers decide on the distribution of state wealth, contracts and significant foreign investments among themselves. Furthermore, western multinationals, Chinese and Brazilian enterprises, and their governments provide the international ‘legitimacy’ and complicity for laundering the looted state assets through joint ventures.

To give one example, Miguel da Costa, Angola’s ambassador to France, founded a company called Sadissa, whose joint venture with the French Thales Group obtained a $200 million arms contract. Da Costa abused his position as ambassador by negotiating with the French authorities on a deal that benefited him personally.

What is your reaction to the MPLA’s self-description as a party concerned with the most disadvantaged members of society?

The reality is different. Angola has become a privatised state, and the president, José Eduardo dos Santos, is the de facto chairman, CEO and main shareholder of this enterprise.

How can the information you are providing be used to support positive change?

An Angolan magistrate once wrote that the main problem in addressing corruption is that people are so used to it that they find it absolutely normal. When I started studying the legislation on corruption, I consulted several concerned lawyers, and most of them either told me that the laws against corruption had been revoked, or had no clear idea of what I was talking about.

Thus, my job is to lay the ground for more serious and informed debates on corruption and governance. Countries with major investments in Angola, and international institutions like the World Bank and the IMF, tend to narrow their focus only on legislation to favour and protect foreign investment, overriding or concealing the rest.

Do you see yourself as part of a wider movement for socio-economic justice in Angola?

As far as I know, there is no organised movement for social and economic justice in Angola yet. There is no popular response yet to issues of injustice and inequality. There is an illusion that corruption is a kind of lottery, in which a winning ticket sets you up for life. It has eroded the social fabric. Thus, civil society is used more as a source of financial benefits than as a concept to represent common interests.

In my view, institutional corruption, propaganda and misinformation can easily sow mistrust among any emerging social networks, as well as co-opting those who can mobilise for change. So I see myself as part of a new generation who believe in individual responsibility, take it to heart and use it to address this reality through research. The quest is to contribute to a change in the social mindset, and information is critical.

NGOs have to face a number of institutional dilemmas. The most critical question is leadership in the face of government and donors’ pressures. In Angola, NGOs are either totally dependent on major western donors whose priorities are to defend the status quo, or on the government.

In 1999 you were imprisoned over an article critical of President Dos Santos. Are you worried about further reprisals from the state against you and other activists?

I have spent so many years in run-ins with the authorities that it no longer worries me. I pray and renew my faith every day for good judgement in my actions. That’s all.

Journalists have to be constantly mindful of lawsuits: there are two directors of independent newspapers who regularly collect lawsuits. In Angola, the rulers control both public and private sectors, and hold sway over donors and foreign firms to cut off any activist who seriously threatens their interests. Very few will risk their welfare or savings to stay the course.

Angola’s first parliamentary elections since 1992 took place in 2008, and the MPLA gained 81 per cent of the vote. How should we interpret this result?

The same way we interpret the results in Equatorial Guinea, Belarus, Kazakhstan and the like. Democracy is used as the legal name for authoritarian rule. It is a cocktail of intimidation, fraud, bribery and fear.

Is there any meaningful way for people to express solidarity with the struggle for economic and social justice in Angola?

Indeed there is. Solidarity is a key component in the struggle anywhere in the world. But solidarity starts at home. International solidarity is most effective when it taps into internal solidarity, and is in response to a clear and articulated call for help or to build up individual responsibility in taking up these issues.

As a personal example, I started the anti-corruption initiative penniless, and in complete isolation. For a time I could not even top up my phone. A US friend received a small inheritance, and sent me a cheque for me to continue my work. Solidarity is not necessarily about big project templates or the workings of the international humanitarian industry. It is, first and foremost, about ideas and individual responsibility in serving the common good.

Rafael Marques’ research on Angola can be read at www.makaangola.com