Terrorism and displacement in central Africa

Seriously. What do you have to do to be called a terrorist these days?

The Lord's Resistance Army (LRA) has been making headlines again this month. In Southern Sudan, Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), and Central African Republic (CAR), attacks by the LRA have displaced an estimated 125,000 people during August alone. In this instance, that clinical term "displaced" means abandoning homes and livelihoods to flee "rape, torching houses, abductions and looting".

Hundred of thousands more were already homeless after the LRA began its latest round of violence at the end of last year.

In short, the LRA is terrorising communities in three nations. Its predatory violence targets vulnerable communities in DRC and CAR and threatens to disrupt upcoming elections in Southern Sudan. Its leader, the recalcitrant Joseph Kony, is wanted by the International Criminal Court for war crimes and crimes against humanity.

Proposed solutions are thin on the ground. Military efforts to bring the LRA to book have been unsuccessful. Given that much of the violence since December 2008 has been a "reprisal" against a US-backed Ugandan operation, you might even say the military option is counterproductive in terms of human security.

The International Crisis Group (ICG) calls for more talks. A new peacemaking effort, the thinking goes, will at least bring the violence to an end for the near term and allow Kony to state his position.

As much as I respect the ICG, in this case I question the value of talks. Kony has used peacemaking efforts to his own advantage in the past, taking part only to gain time and then pulling out of talks without explanation. The man is a thug, a criminal, and a terrorist. While I don't buy the "we don't talk to terrorists" line, this man has done his dash. Still, local people consistently say they want peace before justice, so perhaps talking with Kony - and affording him some political legitimacy - is the lesser of two evils.

So what to do? And who will do it?

If these terrorists were threatening Western cities or Western businesses, perhaps we'd see a Coalition of the Willing using its Air Power and HumInt and COIN against the LRA and its "safe havens". I don't think that's the answer, either. But somewhere between doing nothing and bombing villagers from the air lies a strategy that might bring this terrible violence to an end.

Surely a few members of the international community can knock their heads together and come up with something.

Thankfully, it seems that I'm not the only one who's frustrated with the situation. As things have deteriorated and humanitarian access in Southern Sudan has been impacted, the United Nations has begun talking about new mandates for its peacekeeping forces in Sudan and Congo so that those forces are able to take more robust action against the LRA. It's a start.

Understanding Islamism

I read a lot. Too much. One of the reasons I blog less frequently than I should is that my brain noise levels are too high and I can't distill my thoughts down to a few hundred word units. In the past I have taken measures to mitigate this issue. The information diet is an example. But it hasn't helped.

And so I recently decided to cull my "areas of interest". I am interested in conflict, and there happens to be a lot of conflict in the world at any given time. It's like an element of nature. When you try to keep abreast of every conflict you end up with more information than you can process, a dash of depression, a paroxysm of helplessness, and way too much brain noise.

Anyway, having reduced my list of conflict situations, I identified a few common elements between these conflicts. One was ethno-nationalism, another was underdevelopment and exclusion. These I am conversant with. I got stuck on a third: Islamism. And I decided that it was time I got to the heart of the issue.

If you ever have the desire to understand political Islam, there's no better place to start than the International Crisis Group's 2005 paper, 'Understanding Islamism'. As you'd expect from the ICG, it deconstructs the issue thoroughly, considers historical context, and critically unpacks the dominant discourses (on either side of the political spectrum). I wish I'd read it years ago.

Boycott

A woman I work with is of Sri Lankan heritage. I committed a bit of a faux pas this morning when I offered her some of the tea I was drinking. It's from Sri Lanka. I was curtly advised that Sri Lankan products are being boycotted. "Even fair trade tea?", I asked. Yes, even that. Chastised, I returned to my workstation.

Boycotts are the civil society version of an economic sanction. Like embargoes, used by governments against other governments, boycotts are used by groups of people who seek to use economic power to achieve a political aim, usually in protest against a government. It could be argued that the boycott is a non-violent form of protest and is therefore a pretty good option. I'm not so sure.

Embargoes and other economic sanctions put in place by governments are without doubt more powerful than any boycott, but does that mean that boycotts do not cause any harm? There may be no direct physical violence, but what about other forms of violence?

Take Sri Lankan fair trade tea sold in Australian supermarkets as an example. Sri Lankan farmers and farm workers are taking part in a scheme that ensures them fair prices for their products. Do-gooders in Australia - like me - can buy these products and make a small contribution to sustainable and equitable livelihoods in the developing world.

So what happens if a boycott or embargo is put in place in protest against the government of Sri Lanka? Assuming there is a sufficiently high level of support for the protest, supermarkets won't be able to sell fair trade Sri Lankan tea anymore. Until a new market is found, the company that buys the tea from Sri Lankan farmers will buy less, and farmers will scale back their production.

Following this logic, the outcome will be a negative impact on farmers, workers, and their families. In poor rural areas of a developing nation, it's likely that the community will also feel the effects. Maybe the company will be impacted, too, possibly causing it to reduce its level of investment in Sri Lanka.

And the up side? Will this (relatively minor) change in the market for tea have the desired impact on the policies of the government of Sri Lanka? I'd say not. Unless there are suddenly millions of angry unemployed farm workers descending on the government, it's unlikely that there will be any real impact at all.

So what do I say to my Sri Lankan co-worker? How do I explain that her boycott, if it has any impact at all, is only going to hurt the poor? What alternatives do I put forward? I don't know. To be honest, I understand the arguments in favour of the boycott and I don't believe firmly enough in my own position to challenge them.

There are strong feelings attached to the decision to boycott Sri Lankan products. The decision to pursue a form of protest that is, at one level at least, non-violent is admirable. However the need to make a political statement, to do something about a situation of perceived injustice, may mean that we overlook the need to think carefully and objectively about the likely consequences of that action.

In the scheme of things, my co-worker's decision - and my own - will probably make little difference at all. Perhaps we're even counteracting each other.

What this little encounter highlights, though, is the tension between the desire to act in accordance with our beliefs and the necessity of rigorously assessing the possible outcomes of our actions. In a globalised world this isn't just a question for governments to deal with, but one that is present in the decisions we as individuals make in our daily lives.

One for the "skeptics"

Those damn global warming fear-mongers are at it again.

The changing global climate will pose profound strategic challenges to the United States in coming decades, raising the prospect of military intervention to deal with the effects of violent storms, drought, mass migration and pandemics... Such climate-induced crises could topple governments, feed terrorist movements or destabilize entire regions, say the analysts...

So who are these so-called "analysts"? Lefties, I'll bet. Or greenies. Or lefty-greenie-lesbian-fascists who worship Al Gore (who, by the way, is fat).

Actually, it's the US military.

Hat-tip: Nathan at Post Conflicted.

My little mate

Whenever we hear from our friends in Nairobi I get some news of my little mate. For instance, this news came via a note from her Mama today:

We are doing fine... and Scharmy is looking forward to her 7th birthday on sat 22nd aug... the kind of cake I am being told to make!!! ...aaaiiii.

I can well imagine the noise that's being made! And I bet she's also demanding chips.

Jiggers

Last year, when I visited a little school in Kawangware, I learned about the health problems that kids in Nairobi's poorer suburbs deal with from day to day: malnutrition, head lice, HIV-related illness.

I also learned about jiggers. They're nasty little fleas that get into your feet, especially if you don't have any shoes to wear. I saw some kids with sores on their feet, but I didn't see any as bad as these.

Winning hearts and minds 1960s-style

An amusing post at Ghosts of Alexander mentions a US development project in Afghanistan in the 1960s:

And then there was the USAID guy in Kandahar who drove a giant pink Cadillac, which the locals set on fire one day. If you wanted to destroy something symbolic during a riot, you just could not do better than that. Good stuff.

Come on! How could a pink cadillac not win hearts and minds?

This is why it's so hard to solve

Nothing could illustrate the complexity and brutality of the conflict in Somalia better than the killing this week of five Pakistani Muslim clerics in the town of Galkayo. The motive for the attack, which took place while the men were in a mosque, is unknown. It has been condemned by both Al Shabaab (themselves known for brutal attacks) and Ahlu Sunna, a group opposed to Al Shabaab's violent Islamism.

I can't claim expert status when it comes to the conflict in Somalia. I don't think anyone can. But I have a reasonable grasp of the issues, the actors, and the dynamics. And I am at a loss to explain this event.

Who is responsible for the attack? What do they hope to achieve? Is this a foreign element, perhaps from Pakistan? What does it all mean? I haven't a clue. But that's just the way the conflict in Somalia goes. And it demonstrates precisely why the world is getting no closer to finding a solution.

It's over

Something significant changed in our household this morning. In place of a nagging anxiety that has been there for the last nine months, sometimes dragging us into despair, there's now an immense feeling of relief and joy.

News began filtering in overnight concerning our friends and colleagues who have been held hostage in Somalia since last November. They've been released. As I type this on Wednesday morning, the Kenyans are at home with their families and the Europeans are sitting around a swimming pool at a Nairobi hotel.

It's difficult to imagine how they must be feeling, or how the news of their release would have been received at home.

As with every news story that emerges from Somalia there are conflicting accounts of how the release came about. Some reports suggest that a ransom was paid, others say not. There are suggestions that the outcome was achieved in part because of the efforts of the governments of Oman and Egypt as well as France.

The negotiation process was kept out of the press. This was a deliberate strategy to prevent the kidnappers from leveraging media attention. It meant that those of us who wanted to know what - if anything - was happening to secure their release had to deal with long periods of distressing silence. Perhaps it was a successful strategy. Maybe there were other factors. We'll never know.

The news gave me pause to reflect upon other kidnapping victims in Somalia and elsewhere. One victim's family has recently made headlines in Australia by calling on the government to act. I'm torn over the issue.

The government has rightly pointed out that media attention may be counterproductive. Yet if the government is actually doing something, surely families and friends can be provided with some information, even if negotiations are secret. The fact that family and friends of the Australian victim have spoken to the media suggests that the government is not keeping them informed. They deserve better.

The emotional shift in our household will continue for some time. A range of emotions will rise to the surface as the reality of what's occurred sinks in. There'll be pain and sadness as we reflect on the experiences that our friends have endured, as we make contact with them and hear in their own words how they are coping.

But our overall sense right now is simply relief: It's over. And I sincerely hope that others who are waiting for similar news will one day experience this feeling.