Fiona Nunan is a Lecturer in Environment and Development in IDD, specialising in environment and natural resource management and governance, including fisheries governance and management, poverty and the environment, and impact evaluation methods and approaches. She convenes the module on Transforming Development for Sustainability and co-convenes Critical Approaches to Development and Making Policy on campus and via distance learning.

Drafting outcome documents from international conferences must be no easy task! Just how can you summarise the complex negotiations that have taken place, the diversity of views and interpretations of terms, and the range of commitments, or lack of them? There are just five months to go until the United Nations Conference on Sustainable Development takes place in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, marking twenty years after the 1992 Earth Summit, also held in Rio. A couple of days ago, the ‘zero draft’ of the outcome document, “The Future We Want”, was released.

Jean-Bertrand Aristide, President of Haiti (at podium), addresses the United Nations Conference on Environment and Development (UNCED), or Earth Summit, 12 June 1992. Photo credit: UN Photo 281533.

The 1992 Earth Summit produced an array of impressive conventions and commitments, including the Rio Declaration, Agenda 21 and the Framework Convention on Climate Change. However, in reading the Zero Draft of the outcome document for the 2012 conference, you get a strong feeling of frustration that progress since 1992 has been slow and piecemeal and that what is really needed is action based on the 1992 agreements rather than yet more new concepts, ideas and targets. Swiftly following the preamble, the second section is entitled “Renewing Political Commitment”, recognising that this is what has been lacking, but are there really any indications that there will be a major change any time soon?

The flyer for the Conference suggests that Rio+20 provides a chance to “move away from business as usual”. Whilst the flyer sets out some innovative approaches that have been taken in moving towards more sustainable development, the draft outcome document doesn’t embrace the same spirit of opportunity. It gives little sense of the urgency or the scale of change required to respond effectively to the major environmental and social challenges faced.

Two key themes have been set for the Conference:

• a green economy in the context of sustainable development and poverty eradication
• the institutional framework for sustainable development

Sha Zuzkang, Under-Secretary-General for Economic and Social Affairs, speaks at the launch of “Rio+20: The Future We Want”, a campaign enabling people around the world to contribute to discussions on sustainability, the world we want in 20 years and how that vision is achieved. Photo credit: UN Photo 495393.

The ‘green economy’ agenda is solution-oriented, looking for green business and employment opportunities, but, is there a danger that the Conference could be taken over, or perhaps has been already, by concerns about global recession and the need for economic growth, without sufficient attention to the state of our planet’s resources and equity in access to those resources. What happened to increasing interest in ideas such as “Prosperity without Growth”, wellbeing and quality of life? Where is the intrinsic value of nature recognised in the Zero Draft Outcome document?

Of course, you wouldn’t expect the outcome document to present detailed solutions, but what would be good to see is greater recognition of the scale of environmental challenges we face, with the existence of nature recognised as being beyond a resource for our insatiable consumption, and stronger commitment to change. Instead of a list of things that must not be done in assisting developing countries build a green economy, positive language is needed, emphasising the opportunities that exist to adopt technologies and approaches that support greater equality and sufficiency, whilst reducing our terrifyingly large impact on the global environment.

Yes, now is the time for much greater political commitment to sustainable development, but let’s hope we’re not looking back in another 20 years, wondering how that time passed, with so little progress to show for it.

The 2006 UN Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities marked a watershed moment for the worldwide disability movement, but can it really make a difference to the lives of millions of disabled people around the world, many of whom are living in conditions of extreme poverty? This was one of the questions on my mind when I visited India, one of the first countries to sign and ratify the Convention, at the beginning of this year.

At the national level, there was no doubt that efforts were underway to address some important disability issues. A lack of reliable data on the scale of disability in India is widely acknowledged. The 2001 Census, for example, reported a prevalence rate of just 2.13%, while many organisations working in the field estimate the rate to be at least three times that. At the time of my visit, household data was being gathered for the 2011 census, and careful preparations had been made to ensure that the mistakes of the previous census, when the question on disability was inserted at the last minute, were not repeated. The disability question had been given greater prominence on the census form, and enumerators had been given special training on how to raise the topic with sensitivity. Local NGOs were supporting these efforts, by distributing leaflets urging families to answer questions honestly and not to hide their disabled children, out of shame.

Another important Government-led initiative, underway at this time, was a national consultation exercise in preparation for a brand new Disability Act. The new Act is designed to promote the full participation of disabled people, reflecting the ideals on which the Convention is based, and to address the inadequacies of India’s existing disability laws, which have been heavily criticised for their inconsistencies and poor implementation. This consultation exercise was being viewed with suspicion in some quarters, with several disabled representatives having resigned from the consultation committees, in protest at their views not being taken seriously enough. However, other disabled committee members, whom I met with, felt that the Government was making a real effort to engage with the disability community, in line with Article Four of the Convention.

Crippled from birth, this man takes his hand-pedalled wheelchair through streets near Chandni Chowk to offer phone services which he operates via a car battery and antenna system -- giving a different meaning to "mobile phone"! Photo credit: Meena Kadri

While the Indian Government appears to be demonstrating some commitment to meeting its obligations, under the terms of the Convention, real change is unlikely to come about unless Indian society itself becomes more accepting of people with disabilities. During the course of my visit, it became increasingly apparent to me that this may actually be starting to happen, at least in the areas that I visited. In the formal sector jobs market, for example, there were signs that private sector companies have, in recent years, become increasingly open to employing disabled people. In Bangalore and Chennai, I visited several disability organisations that were running job placement schemes, and all of them were reporting placement rates in excess of 70%, for disabled clients that had completed vocational training programmes. One scheme manager felt that there had been a “sea change in attitudes over the last five years, with parents now believing that if they educate their disabled children then there will be job opportunities for them.” Further evidence of a positive shift in employer attitudes was gleaned at an employability conference in New Delhi, on February 18th, at which several employer representatives revealed that their companies were now starting to recognise a strong business case for employing skilled disabled persons, with many proving to be particularly loyal employees, as well as frequently outperforming their able-bodied colleagues.

In rural areas, where the majority of disabled people live, prospects of formal employment are much slimmer. However, the rapid proliferation of disability self-help groups appears to be empowering disabled people on a huge scale, enabling them to engage in economic activity, as well as raising their status in society. In Tamil Nadu, for example, the State Government have supported the formation of around 8,000 disability self-help groups, across the poorest districts of the State, providing them with seed money to support group income-generating activities, as well as enabling the groups to provide individual business loans to their members. The majority of these groups have been linked with local banks, enabling them to gain a credit rating and providing access to larger loans. The disabled beneficiaries of this scheme are identified by the communities themselves, by a process known as ‘participatory identification of the poor’, in which whole villages are mapped out and community members are asked to identify where the most vulnerable people, including those with disabilities, are living. My conversations with beneficiaries revealed that many value the social benefits of this scheme above the economic benefits. One self-help group member, for example, stated that “before, our status was not recognised in the community. Now we have gained recognition, and others want to join the group”.

These may be just fleeting impressions, but I returned from India with the feeling that there is now a sense of genuine hope and expectation, among people with disabilities and the organisations that represent them, that Indian society is starting to view disabled people as potentially active citizens, rather than passive recipients of charity. India’s ratification of the Convention may not be the sole reason for this, but it has certainly played a role in raising the profile of disability within the country, while encouraging both the Government and NGO sectors to take account of the views of disabled people themselves. These impressions suggest that Indian society may be starting to move towards becoming more inclusive as well, thus creating space for the Convention to have a far greater impact.

Fiona Nunan is a Lecturer in Environment and Development in IDD, specialising in environment and natural resource management and governance, including fisheries governance and management, poverty and the environment, and impact evaluation methods and approaches.  She convenes the module on Transforming Development for Sustainability and co-convenes Critical Approaches to Development and Making Policy on campus and via distance learning.

As anyone working or interested in environment and development will know, the most often cited definition of sustainable development is the one given in the 1987 report Our Common Future, produced by the World Commission on Environment and Development (more commonly known as the Brundtland Report, after the chair of the Commission, Gro Harlem Brundtland):

“development that meets the needs of the present without compromising the ability of future generations to meet their own needs” (WCED, 1987, p.43)

Gro Harlem Brundtland, Prime Minister of Norway, addressing the General Assembly on Environment and Development, October 1987. (UN photo 149071)

Love it or hate it, it is the most common definition used. It certainly has its limitations, however. Critics ask what ‘needs’ are and argue that the concept of sustainable development merely supports economic growth without challenging our Western environment-destroying way of life.

There are, of course, many other definitions of sustainable development.  Most recently, the UNDP’s Human Development Report 2011, released on 2 November, suggested that a new concept of “sustainable human development” is needed. This new concept is intended to address some of the criticisms of the concept of sustainable development, taking out reference to needs, and bringing in the concept of freedom. The report defines sustainable human development as:

“the expansion of the substantive freedoms of people today while making reasonable efforts to avoid seriously compromising those of future generations” (UNDP, 2011, p.18)

This does sound rather noble: who could argue against expanding substantive freedoms? But does the concept of sustainable development really need revisiting at all? Bringing in the word ‘human’ could add yet more confusion and discussion over the plethora of concepts and definitions within the broad area of environment and development.

It is the intergenerational dimension of the definition that really causes concern. The report claims to adopt a ‘strong’ sustainability approach, which does not advocate substitution between different forms of capital, and argues that some forms of natural capital must be preserved. Indeed, it goes on to review evidence for the depletion and degradation of natural resources, most of which would be considered as un-substitutable.

A ‘strong’ sustainability approach is not, however, reflected in its definition of sustainable human development. The definition instead lacks assertiveness in its language, which is unhelpful, given the criticisms made of sustainable development, that it is a vague concept meaning different things to different people. The suggestion that ‘reasonable efforts’ should be made does not reflect the implied urgency of the review of trends in sustainability in the report, and it seems that the ‘substantive freedoms’ of future generations may be compromised, as long as it is not to a serious level. A truly strong sustainability approach would surely want to set the bar higher than such a definition suggests.

Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon and other principals discuss the upcoming Rio+20 Conference on Sustainable Development. (UN photo 480724, Evan Schneider)

The concept of sustainable development may be far from ideal, and certainly there are concerns about how it is used at times to justify all sorts of measures and initiatives that are far from sustainable as many would understand the term. However, it may well be unhelpful to bring in new concepts and definitions, particularly so close to the 2012 United Nations Conference on Sustainable Development, just 7 months away. Much more effort is surely needed to ensure that the concept of sustainable development, which is globally well-known, is acted on in a much more assertive way in the face of sustained global inequalities, environmental devastation and human-induced climate change.

Transparency for publicly-financed aid for development should be non-negotiable, irrespective of whether or not they are ‘official development assistance’ (ODA). As the number of players in development finance grows, and non-DAC donors increase their aid financing, it is becoming apparent that exclusion of their aid data will prohibit getting a full picture of future global aid governance. Though the OECD Development Assistance Committee (DAC) has long played a key role in defining and capturing data on development finance and monitoring its global standards for DAC donors the question arises as to whether its existing standards or categorizations are inclusive enough to integrate the non-DAC donors. There are ongoing efforts, particularly the International Aid Transparency Initiative (IATI), to improve aid data transparency and reform the way aid data is disclosed by DAC donors. However the lack of aid data availability of the non-DAC donors in existing global aid governance is a difficulty, associated with their different data capture, methodology and data categorisations.

Our current research programme investigates the incentives and disincentives for non traditional donors to adhere to International Aid Transparency Initiative (IATI) standards, and the challenges and opportunities that non traditional donors bring to the IATI.

Data on aid flows from non-DAC donors are often unavailable or incomplete due to lack of incentives, weak capacity, having no formal place in the aid architecture, and a lack of standards and definitions.  Existing IATI standards may go some distance towards providing a framework for helping to fill this gap, but they do not satisfy all of the needs of South-South cooperation, and the question of incentives for participating in the aid reporting system remains to be addressed.

On 31 October and 1 November, we will present the preliminary results of our research at a workshop in Birmingham, including an approach to data categorisation in south-south cooperation that has the potential to complement ongoing IATI categorisations. Others researching and advocating greater transparency and consistency in aid data will also present on their current work. It is hoped that the workshop will stimulate lively discussion on policy options in the run-up to the Busan high level forum on aid effectiveness in December.

For more information about the workshop, please see: Workshop: A Future for Aid Data.  The following preliminary reports are available for discussion:

• Report synopsis
• First report: The Non DAC Donor’s Data Availability Index
• Second report: Compatibility of South-South Development Cooperation vis-a-vis IATI Standard
• Third report: How does the Existence of IATI shape the Dynamics of Emerging Donors under South-South Cooperation?
• A Non DAC Donor Case Study: India’s Lines of Credit (LOC) Programme
• Marrying New Global Players with the International Aid Transparency Initiative: The Future of Aid Data Governance

We welcome your feedback on these preliminary findings, either by leaving comments here on the blog using the links below, or by contacting us directly.  Our contact information can be found on our staff profile pages: Michael Hubbard and Pranay Sinha.

Paul Jackson and Danielle Beswick published a new textbook in June: Conflict, Security and Development: An Introduction. It is the first textbook to really address the core issues linking conflict and development.  We asked Paul to describe the process of writing it and to talk about the issues it discusses.

How do you approach writing a textbook, as compared with a book of research essays?

Well firstly it was a collaborative experience which was unusual for me but worked very well. I guess the main approach was really about ensuring that we had been complete in terms of including all of the major references. We had to make a very complex set of policies and theories accessible knowing that we were writing for people coming to the subject for the first time rather than for specialists. When I wrote my book on Sierra Leone I knew that lots of other people who know Sierra Leone very well were going to read it, whereas here I know that a lot of people who are curious about security and development will read it. In that sense it is a great responsibility!

What is the process for getting a textbook published?  What was the most difficult part of the process?

Overall I would say that it was a very easy process in that the editorial staff and the technical issues of publishing were very straightforward. Our editor was very helpful in providing a framework and suggested aprpoaches to the structure of the book and he had some excellent suggestions about what we coould include as sections within each chapter. Overall I would say that once you got the idea into your head that it was a textbook, the actual process was not that different to most writing.

What makes this textbook the first of its kind?

Most other texts on the subject do not do the linking side of it. They don’t really link security with development (and we are both development people) and they certainly don’t make links between the theoretical approaches available in, for example, the IR literature, and the practical policy approaches to development that most students are interested in. We do!

What personal experiences did you draw on in writing the book?

Lots. There is a lot on field experiences of Sierra Leone, Rwanda, Uganda, Nepal, etc. and I think in some ways that is our unique selling point. This is a textbook written by people who actually do this stuff as opposed to just studying it in the classroom – and I think that comes through in the book itself.

Are conflict and security primarily about military power or are there other dimensions?

Lots of complex dimensions. In fact the military is a very small element. Even if you think about security in a formal sense, this would include intelligence, the military and the police, but then you expand it into the justice system, formal and informal justice systems, the rule of law, international law and refugees, human rights and then on to human security, which encompasses the rights of people to live without fear. It also covers the responsibility to protect agenda of the international community. Consequently this is a book that includes everything from how local courts work in rural Sierra Leone to the implications of the invasion of Afghanistan.

Are conflict and poverty inevitably linked?

The causal relationship is very problematic, but there is a very clear set of relationships between conflict and poverty – most of the poorest people live in countries that have experienced conflict within the last five years and the vast majority of those (>70%) are in Africa. It is also extremely likely that once conflict has happened once then it will happen again producing more internal displacement, international migration and insecurity through violence and lack of economic opportunities.

The number and severity of conflicts in Africa has risen in the past few years from a low point in the middle of the 2000s; what do you think the future holds?

Yes, I think there was a spike at the end of the 1990s but many of the conflicts that have remained are of a particular type. They tend to be intra-state conflicts along borders or within states that have collapsed. Africa doesn’t have many wars between states, rather it has chronic areas of conflict that rumble on. These areas tend to be ‘ungoverned spaces’ in international parlance, but of course they are ‘governed’ – just not by very nice people. The collapse of the DRC has clearly not helped since one of the clearest indicators of conflict potential is living in a bad neighbourhood and the DRC is in the neighbourhood of a lot of countries. Other chronic areas of instability are the Ogaden and Somalia in the Horn; South Sudan, northern DRC and Northern Uganda; and, large parts of West Africa. The next question is what will happen in places like Chad in the wake of the historically stable North African revolutions. The decline of Libya and Gadaffi will also have a big influence and, frankly, no-one knows what that will bring.

Heather Marquette is Senior Lecturer in Governance in IDD. Her areas of research include comparative politics; political development; African politics; state-building and governance in difficult environments; corruption, good governance and ‘moral politics’; donor approaches to anti-corruption reform; discourses on citizenship; and applied political analysis. She directs IDD’s International Political Economy of Development programme and is the academic director of the Governance and Social Development Resource Centre.

There has been growing interest in looking at the underlying anthropological and cultural reasons for why corruption might occur, and a growing understanding that technical, management-led approaches to anti-corruption are not providing the level of success desired.  There is a clear need to look as well at why individuals choose to be corrupt and how their values and attitudes towards corruption are shaped.

The basis for the increasing attention given to the religion-corruption nexus stems from the argument that fairness and honesty form the basis of many religions.  It is sometimes assumed that religious leaders may be recruited to the fight against corruption and that religious people are less likely than non-religious people to engage in corruption.  (see, for example, Beets 2007)

However, contrary to these assumptions, many of the most corrupt countries in the world (according to TI’s Corruption Perceptions Index) also rank highly in terms of religiosity (using indicators such as those used in the Pew Global Attitudes Project). So why is it that apparently religious people seem to engage in corruption to the point where it becomes a ‘way of life’ in many countries?

Corruption as a collective action problem, regardless of religion

Recent research at the Quality of Government Institute at the University of Gothenburgargues that corruption needs to be seen as a ‘collective action problem’. This means that corruption is seen to be so widespread in society that ‘even if most individuals morally disapprove of corruption and are fully aware of the negative consequences for the society at large, very few actors show a sustained willingness to fight it.’

Malawi: Resist, Reject, Report Corruption. Photo by John Duffell.

Our own research draws a similar conclusion. All of our respondents offered very robust definitions of corruption, and very few of the respondents tolerated any form of corrupt behaviour. There was a very strong sense of moral outrage in both countries regarding corruption. In India, this tended to be voiced along secular lines, with respondents emphasizing the impact of corruption on poverty, on growth, on trust in government, and in society in general. Nigerian respondents, on the other hand, tended to see corruption as a lack of the fear of God and drew very clear links between religion and corruption.

However, almost all of the respondents in both countries saw corruption as being so deeply entrenched within the system – ‘systemic corruption’, as it is known – that there was little sense that individual action would make any difference. As such, individuals are left with a typical collective action problem, where choosing not to engage in corruption is seen as illogical or even ridiculous.

In addition, respondents often did what is called ‘othering’, seeing corruption as something that other, immoral people do, while what they might do is simply making the best of a bad situation. They clearly separated public and personal morality when it came to their own behaviour but not when it came to condemning the behaviour of others. For some respondents, there was a sense that in a corrupt system, choosing not to be corrupt put one’s own family at a serious disadvantage compared to others.

Summarising some of the responses, this means that, for example, when I have to pay a bribe, I do so because the system – which is external to me – is corrupt; there is thus no conflict with my own values, religious or otherwise, because I am only doing what is unfortunately necessary in this system to get by. On the other hand, the person sitting across the desk from me with his hand out for a bribe, or my neighbour who pays for unfair advantage, must not be ‘truly religious’, because they are demonstrating a clear lack of ethics.

In corruption terms, this is called ‘demand side’ and ‘supply side’ and is where position is important. Because the few are on the ‘demand side’ – those public officials who demand or accept bribes, embezzle public funds, or so on – it is easy for those who do not have similar positions to condemn them as being unethical and untrue to the tenets of their religious beliefs. However, because the many are on the ‘supply side’ – those who offer or give bribes, seek favour, and so on – more respondents were hesitant to condemn this behaviour as unethical and unreligious.

Corruption, religion and (lack of) trust

The sense that corruption is pervasive and widespread has led to a real lack of trust both in the state and in society more widely. Research on trust and religion shows that religion may be problematic in this sense, because religion helps build intra-group trust but not inter-group trust. Collective efforts from religious leaders cutting across religions and regions may be more helpful than looking to individual religious leaders or communities who may blame others within their community for corruption and create or escalate inter-group tensions.

In a country like Nigeria, where there is widespread religious competition and conflict along religious (and often also ethnic) lines, trying to enlist religious leaders in the fight against corruption could be extremely problematic. Leaders might use the same process of ‘othering’ to persuade their followers that being uncorrupt marks them out from corrupt ‘others’ in different religious traditions and communities, which could inflame existing tensions.

In a country like India, where there is a clear majority religion, this is less of a concern, but diffusion of religious messages on anti-corruption where there is no regular meeting place, no clear religious leadership, and no religious dogma would be very difficult, to say the least.

In either case, the ability of religious organisations to play a positive role in fighting corruption was seen as directly related to their own perceived or demonstrated ethical behaviour. There was a great deal of scepticism among respondents in both countries of religious organisations’ ability to play this role because there is so much evidence of corruption within religious organisations themselves.

Interestingly, in both countries respondents felt strongly that religion should make people less corrupt and certainly should impact upon their behaviour and attitudes but often see it as part of an overall ‘package’ of moral upbringing coming out of the family. There was a call for better values education – possibly but not always necessarily involving religious organisations, but that this needs to come early in life to have an impact.

India Against Corruption- Bangalore. Photo by Pushkar V.

Corruption and values in a globalised world

Values education would face stiff competition, however, from other messages in society that value material success: something strongly felt in both countries, particularly by our younger respondents. Blame for rampant corruption was put squarely on ‘consumerist’ and ‘materialistic’ aspects of modernisation and globalisation. In India, this was often called the ‘excessive “having more” syndrome’. Respondents evoked the times when flaunting wealth was considered bad behaviour and claimed that this was no longer the case. Indeed, in both countries there was a sense that people increasingly bragged about the scale of their own corruption in order to make themselves look successful.

People were said to indulge in corruption in the name of God or undertake to ‘make God a stakeholder in corruption’ by constructing temples or donating ill-gotten wealth to charity. Religious donations, rituals, and ceremonies were seen increasingly as ways to display wealth.

A director of an Anti-Corruption Bureau in India explained, ‘I definitely feel that this propensity to acquire more and more wealth, without bothering about the means of acquisition, is resulting in a tremendous amount of corruption in the society. This includes the competitive spirit, the demands made by young people from their parents or made by them on themselves to acquire wealth, and the general acceptance in the society of people with money, without looking into their professional accomplishments. That is contributing to a lot of corruption and permissiveness in society.’

Consumerism and ‘worshipping’ of wealth and material success were seen as the problem, but most respondents said that this was not the same thing as being ‘modern’. In India, certainly, being ‘modern’ is seen as being ‘progressive’ and ‘open’. You can be ‘modern’ while wearing traditional clothes, being religious, and living simply; conversely, you can be ‘traditional’ and live opulently and display wealth. Consumerism, in most of our respondents’ minds, was not linked to ‘modernity’ but to globalisation and liberalisation. As the latter is often prescribed as part of anti-corruption strategies, particularly in terms of breaking down ‘traditional’ kinship and patronage networks, this suggests that part of the ‘solution’ for corruption could also be part of the ‘problem’!

Most respondents called for a return to ‘simple living, high thinking’ as an antidote to hyper-consumerism and to hyper-corruption. It was argued that this is true for all faiths and in fact is not just true for the religious but is part of the ‘human condition’. If this is true, then a possible way forward for anti-corruption policymakers and activists may be to link corruption to other issues to do with the excesses of consumption, such as the environmental movement, and to the debate about over-spending and how it might have contributed to the current economic crisis. In both of these there is already a vocal and mobilised faith-based constituency (among others) that may lend its voice to the fight against global corruption. This may also provide the collective action solution to a collective action problem. However, when religious organisations themselves also look to gain wealth and project material success, and when people pray to God to make them richer and more successful, even this may prove difficult to achieve.

The Arab Spring has been widely seen as a watershed event which has irrevocably changed the region and the global political landscape and led to a seismic shift in the social contract governing the relationship between Arab ruling elites and their populations. The Spring has demonstrated a strong regional dynamic: protests have spread within the Arab world because of the cultural affinity felt by Arabs, and have not been matched in other parts of the world facing similar problems. The impacts of the Arab Spring on countries across the Middle East and North Africa (the “MENA region”) have been varied. The revolutions that occurred in Tunisia and Egypt have not been easily replicated in Libya, Yemen, Syria, Bahrain and Saudi Arabia.

There is considerable uncertainty about the extent to which the Arab Spring is likely to spread or be sustained. While many commentators argue that the fall of incumbent regimes in Bahrain, Libya, Syria and Yemen is inevitable in the long term, most agree that oil-rich Gulf states such as Saudi Arabia will remain resistant to major political change, using a combination of repression with handouts to maintain their grip on power. In a recent report, the Economist Intelligence Unit argues that the fate of the uprisings is still in the balance and that there are three main possible scenarios, with the outcome of limited democratic reform being the most likely. It rates the chances of a return to the status quo at around 20%, while a genuine democratic breakthrough is seen as equally probable.

Photo by: naicomenó

Islamist movements are likely to become major players in the post-uprising political landscape of the Arab world, despite the fact that groups such as the Muslim Brotherhood (MB) in Egypt and al-Nahda in Tunisia played minimal roles in the initial uprisings. Islamist movements formed under authoritarian regimes will face internal challenges, and tensions may emerge from younger activists, some of whom may support greater pluralism and openness. There is some debate surrounding the extent to which Islamist parties will seek to compromise their agendas to meet rising demands for democratisation. While some argue that the MB can be reconciled with secular democracy, others question its commitment to democracy.

Although social media savvy youth played an important role in driving the protests in most countries, their role is likely to diminish as political transitions play out in the region. Youth movements generally lack the organisation, leadership and policy platforms to continue to press their agenda.

While the Arab Spring has had a profound impact on the political settlement in many countries of the MENA region, some commentators have argued that it has failed to bring about any major change in regional power structures. While many commentators have made comparisons with the third wave of democratisation in Eastern Europe in 1989, US influence in the region is not crumbling in the same way that the Soviet Union’s influence over Eastern Europe fell apart during that region’s democratic transition.

Several commentators argue that developments in Egypt will have a significant impact on the wider region, either providing a blueprint for reform in other regions if the transition is successful, or encouraging anti-democratic opposition if the transition stalls. While there are signs that the military are consolidating their position in Egypt, the decision of the government to detain the former President demonstrates the continued power of protest.

The protests have ratcheted up regional competition between Iran and Saudi Arabia, with the latter becoming increasingly fearful of the threat posed by Shia rebellions in Bahrain and Yemen. Saudi Arabia’s recent moves to invite Morocco and Jordan to join the Gulf Cooperation Council have been seen as an attempt to constrain Iran’s influence. Turkey’s role may also grow more important as a consequence of recent events, as it provides a critical model for democratic transition for other countries in the region. Turkish officials are becoming more strident in support of transition in Syria, where they fear a sectarian war. Western intervention in Libya may have a significant impact on the wider region. If the civil war is resolved relatively quickly, perhaps with the support of an African Union intervention, the damage to the West’s credibility in the region may diminish. If not, the damage is likely to grow.

Saudi Arabia has seen its position in the Arab world weaken as a result of the Arab Spring, losing its most important regional ally – Hosni Mubarak. Saudi Arabia’s primary goal remains maintaining the status quo and ensuring continued stability and as a result it has maintained a pragmatic stance towards its neighbours. It backed President Saleh in Yemen until his position became untenable and a threat to stability. It is now likely to try to limit the emergence of a united and more independent Yemen by provoking internal divisions within Yemeni elites.

The Arab Spring sparked dramatic protests on Israel’s northern borders, in Gaza and in the West Bank. Protests encouraged a reconciliation agreement between Fatah and Hamas, the two main political parties in the Palestinian Territories, by exposing both parties to growing popular pressure for change. The agreement makes an immediate resumption of the peace process unlikely since Israel has stated unequivocally that it will not negotiate with a government that includes Hamas. The agreement does, however, put the Palestinians in a stronger position to push for a United Nations vote on statehood in September, if they can agree on who should lead a new government.

The protests have raised a number of new security challenges for the region. Although sectarian motivations have been largely absent from most of the recent uprisings, the threat of sectarian conflict looms large over a number of countries, particularly those such as Bahrain and Syria which are ruled by an ethnic minority group. The Arab Spring exposed Al-Qaeda’s ineffectiveness as an agent for political change. Revolutions in Egypt and Tunisia have been driven by young people motivated by freedom and non-violent action, rather than defending Muslim lands from Western aggression. Nevertheless, if the protests stall, Al-Qaeda could yet take advantage of the ensuing frustration.

Photo by: Erik Nehring

In the short term, the economic consequences of the Arab Spring favour the oil-producing countries that have experienced the least instability. Egypt and Tunisia, by contrast, have seen sharp reductions in production, trade and services that have created fragile fiscal positions. Over the long term, some commentators predict that democratisation will generate significant economic benefits. Having said this, the task of economic reform in the region is likely to be extremely difficult. Most countries in the region are also blighted by kleptocratic monopolies, heavy regulation and massive state subsidies. Vested interests are also likely to resist change and may require further protest and violence to be changed. Tackling corruption will be one of the central challenges facing the region during the next phase of the transition.

Several commentators argue that a lack of economic reform may threaten the radical political changes that have swept the region, particularly in Egypt where there is already talk of the need for a ‘second revolution’ to address economic issues. New governments in Egypt and Tunisia will need to pursue a delicate balance between tackling vested interests and corruption on the one hand, and the need to avoid capital flight and the to ensure some degree of political stability on the other. The issue of bread and fuel subsidies is particularly sensitive. Although these subsidies can yield immediate political benefits to the governments that distribute them, they have negative long-term impacts on public finances and may be unfairly distributed because of corruption. One of the key challenges facing policymakers in the region will be the question of how to design new policies that reach targeted groups more efficiently.

For more on the Arab Spring, see the GSDRC Helpdesk research report “Effects of the ‘Arab Spring’ on the Middle East and North Africa (MENA) region“

Local government elections are notorious for low voter turnout, but the turnout for last month’s elections in South Africa was a record 58% of the 24 million registered voters.  This was attributed to an exciting election campaign and tight contests expected in key municipal areas. Campaigning went on for weeks and received extensive coverage in the media. The elections were efficiently run by the Independent Electoral Commission, with plenty of independent civil society monitoring, and few allegations of intimidation, violence or malpractice. Is it coincidental, one commentator mused, that the IEC is run at a senior level by women?

In South Africa, local government matters, and not just because it provides a pointer to what might happen in the provincial and national elections due in 2014.

Photo credit: Warren Rohner

Why do local government elections matter? South Africans have high expectations of government: they know the country has substantial resources, they have seen significant investment in major infrastructure (for example stadiums and roads for the World Cup, as well as roads, electricity and water in the urban areas in which 61% live), and politicians promise that the government will deliver economic development, jobs and improved living conditions. Tremendous progress has been made since 1994:  millions of new houses have been built (the number of households living in brick houses almost doubled from 5.6 million in 1996 to 10.4 million in 2009), the number of households with piped water increased from 7.4 million in 2003 to 11 million in 2009 and the proportion with access to electricity increased from 36% in 1994 to 84% today.

The ‘toilet elections’

So why the toilet elections? Campaigning was enlivened by two news stories, which reveal much about political discourse and practice in South Africa. The Democratic Alliance (DA), which controls the city of Cape Town and is the main rival of the African National Congress (ANC) at the national level, campaigned on a platform of efficient and effective service delivery, including providing waterborne sewerage in low income housing areas. In December 2009, however, the DA was taken to court by the ANC Youth League for failing to construct the superstructure (four walls and a roof) above 1,316 toilets that had been installed in Makhaza, part of Khayelitsha. The Western Cape High Court ruled that the city council was violating the residents’ constitutional right to dignity and its own duty to provide for the basic needs of the poor. The story was splashed all over the media by the ANC, only for an identical example to be unearthed in a poorly performing ANC-run municipality, Moqhaka in the Free State, where 1,620 toilets built as far back as 2003 had never been enclosed.  The pictures of unused toilets sitting in the middle of residential plots appealed to the media (and was a gift to cartoonists), but the issue also emblematic of the wider issues at stake in the local government elections.

Service delivery

The elections were fought on the platform of service delivery: although all three levels of government share responsibility for infrastructure, municipalities (both urban and rural) are responsible for water and sanitation, electricity, waste management and road maintenance, among other functions. In practical terms, South Africans interpret their constitutional rights to dignity and respect in terms of a right to decent housing and services, amongst other things.

However, despite the progress made since 1994, levels of dissatisfaction with services and with local government are high. A recent IDASA (Institute for Democracy in South Africa) citizen satisfaction survey revealed very high levels of dissatisfaction, with poor municipal performance blamed on corruption, nepotism, poor management, and failure to listen to residents or keep them informed. The State of the Cities report released in April noted that local government is one of the least trusted public institutions: it is considered to be remote, unresponsive, poorly managed, and riddled with internal political party factionalism.

The seven metros are better at providing services, but are struggling to manage rapid urban growth and the legacy of apartheid spatial planning. They have experienced the most service delivery protests (111 in 2010, 23 so far in 2011, some of which have turned violent). Corruption in local government (in the allocation of houses, award of tenders and so on) is widely condemned and disillusionment widespread, with some CSOs urging voters to boycott the elections and some ANC members and supporters abstaining. Nevertheless, many believe both that the government has the capacity to deliver and that they can hold it to account, which led them to turn out at the polls in record numbers.

Photo credit: Craig Strachan

Political trends

What the elections indicate about changes in the party political terrain in South Africa is also important. The voting system for municipalities (single tier metros and double tier local and district councils elsewhere) is a mixture of first-past-the-post and a party list PR system. The ANC, which controls the national and eight of the nine provincial governments, continues to control 7 of the 8 metropolitan and 198 municipal councils, and gained 64% of the votes, so on the surface little has changed. However, stories about infighting over the selection of candidates and management of the campaign circulated widely in the run-up to the election and the party’s share of the total votes cast fell from 66% in the previous local government elections. Some observers suggest that increasing numbers of South Africans (especially younger ones) believe not only that the party’s long term stranglehold on power has led to complacency, factionalism and abuse of office, but also that there might be an alternative.

Previous challengers, such as Buthelezei’s Inkatha Freedom Party and Congress of the People, the ANC break-away party, have almost disappeared, with none securing more than 4% of the votes, although several hold the balance of power in hung councils. Instead, the National Freedom Party, a breakaway from the IFP (which had 8% of the votes nationally in 2006 and outright control of 33 councils, mainly in KwaZulu Natal – it retains control of just 5) gained almost as many votes as the IFP itself, while some former ANC members stood as independents and some won seats as ward councillors.

The main challenger to the ANC is the DA, previously seen as the party of whites, coloureds and Indians (21% of the population) with significant support only in the Western Cape. Led by Helen Zille, mayor of Cape Town between 2006 and 2009 and Premier of the Western Cape Province since 2009, it estimated that it took only 2% of the African vote in 2009. Since Zille became its leader in 2007, it has campaigned on the strength of its service delivery record in the areas under its control (especially Western Cape and the Cape Town metro) and actively sought to increase its share of the black vote in areas where it perceived the ANC to be vulnerable. In the 18^th May elections, it increased its share of the votes from 15% in 2006 (with outright control of 7 councils) to 24% (outright control of 18 municipal councils), won an outright majority in Cape Town (up from 43% in 2006 to 61%, and estimated that it had increased its share of African voters – although only to a miniscule 5%.

The debate in the run-up to the 2014 national and provincial elections is thus likely to focus, amongst other things, on whether the May 2011 local government elections indicate a shift from ‘struggle politics’ (in which voters support the ANC out of loyalty for its past achievements) to a focus on delivery, whether the ANC is capable of responding to the warning signs by addressing its internal problems and improving governance, and whether politics in South Africa has become a two-horse race.

Tunisia, Egypt, Libya…Uganda? This has been the rallying cry of many Kampala residents since anti-government protests broke out in the Ugandan capital in mid-April. The likelihood of ‘Egypt-style’ uprisings imperiling the continued tenure of the Museveni government has also been talked-up by a number of journalists, in the West and in Africa, particularly now protests have spread beyond Kampala to Entebbe, Mbale and other Ugandan towns. On the face of it, there is much to be said for such comparisons.

Photo credit: Zoom Zoom

Museveni election posters, January 2011

Important contextual differences between the Arab Spring uprisings and the Uganda protests, however, will likely mean that Museveni, who has been in power since 1986, will survive this challenge to his authority. Firstly, Uganda remains, unlike Tunisia, Egypt or Libya, one of the poorest countries in the world and its rapidly-expanding urban youth population has had limited access to higher-level education in contrast to many of the graduates who occupied Tahrir Square in January. While the Uganda Law Society has attached itself to the protests since 3 May, most of those involved over the last few weeks have been taxi drivers, boda boda riders or unemployed youths who have little familiarity with Facebook, Twitter or any other medium for organising a national insurrection. Breaking the resolve of this angry but disparate and, in some cases, starving group, therefore, will perhaps not be as difficult for Museveni as it was for his Tunisian and Egyptian counterparts. This is particularly so because the personal loyalty to their president of Uganda’s security forces, one of the most organised and well-trained militaries south of the Sahara, is beyond doubt. An Egypt-style declaration of army neutrality is almost completely inconceivable in Uganda; where Mubarak was merely a product of his nation’s security forces, Museveni has been the creator of his. A Uganda without him is a far more concerning prospect for many security personnel than the repercussions of firing live bullets at civilians.

Secondly, the political agendas of opposition figures, most notably Kizza Besigye, may well play into the hands of Museveni who will now pursue (however disingenuously) ‘inter-party dialogue’ as a means to slow the protests’ momentum; certainly this has been his public stance since late April. Besigye, leader of Uganda’s Forum for Democratic Change (FDC), and other opposition leaders originally inspired the protests through leading a ‘Walk to Work’ campaign which encourages Ugandans to peacefully ‘walk to work’ in protest at rising petrol and food prices. Making common cause with the economic grievances of their fellow citizens, these politicians have played a much more central role in the protests than did opposition figures in Egypt or Tunisia, albeit primarily as sources of inspirational, rather than organisational, leadership.

Their motives for doing so, however, are based more on a desire to improve their own political prospects than the economic circumstances of Ugandans. Unlike the protests in Egypt or Tunisia, those in Uganda are, to some extent, the fallout from a controversial and contested election – that of February 2011 which Museveni and his NRM party won by a wide margin. Throughout the electoral process, opposition figures made clear that they would not accept the result of the polls owing to, what they (and many observers) perceived to be, an unlevel playing field, a pro-regime Electoral Commission and an abuse of state resources by the incumbent. When the Commission declared Museveni the winner, therefore, Besigye and others encouraged Ugandans to join them on a set of peaceful protest marches calling for ‘fresh elections’ under a new Electoral Commission. These calls were largely ignored and, thus, the precursor of ‘Walk to Work’ was stillborn.

Photo credit: Gabor Basch

Uganda election February 2011

The opposition’s involvement in the current, seemingly economic-based, protests must be seen, therefore, in this more political context.  As such, if Museveni is able to convince Besigye et al that inter-party ‘dialogue’ may lead to greater political influence for them, they are unlikely to continue to lead protest marches or to press for his resignation. This separates them from the ‘leaders’ of protests in Tunisia, Egypt and Libya where the departure of the national leader has been the sine qua non of protestor demands.

Finally, Uganda’s major Western donors (particularly the US and UK) are far more inclined to, at most, push for a negotiated end to the violence rather than for Museveni’s departure. This is significant because, unlike regimes in Libya and Syria, for example, the Ugandan regime still depends on aid from donor countries to fund over a third of its spending.

There are a number of reasons why donors might take this approach. Firstly, they have long cultivated (and been cultivated by) Museveni as a regional security ally (note, for example, Uganda’s presence in the US/UK-backed AU peacekeeping mission in ‘terrorist haven’ Somalia since 2007) and the recent discovery of oil in eastern Uganda has also made the preservation of good relations between London, Washington and Kampala a greater priority for Western policy-makers than in the past.

Secondly, Western diplomats in Kampala have long expressed deep misgivings about the ability of Besigye and Uganda’s opposition to govern the country. They see the FDC chief not only as a less impressive version of Museveni (Besigye is a former NRM cadre) but also as a potentially dangerous figure who, in past elections, has raised the spectre of violence in response to flawed electoral processes. In addition, donors see no-one from within the NRM who could plausibly take over from Museveni, mainly because the president has consistently thwarted attempts by colleagues to set themselves up as his heir. For the international community, therefore, there is no Ugandan equivalent of Mohamed ElBaradei or Libya’s Transitional National Council to turn to as an alternative to the ailing status quo. Chastened by memories of the chaotic dictatorships of Idi Amin and Milton Obtote, donors remain extremely reluctant to ‘take a chance’ on a post-Museveni Uganda until it is forced upon them by events.

Finally, donors have neither the resources nor the energy to focus their diplomatic efforts on Uganda while events in the Middle East continue to dominate the international agenda. This will likely persist either until the extent of state violence in Kampala reaches levels which Downing Street or the White House cannot ignore or until global media outlets give higher priority to covering the Ugandan protests. With NATO operations in Libya still underway and Western policy-makers and journalists focused on Syria and the fallout from Osama bin Laden’s death, it seems very likely that the Museveni regime’s behaviour will largely escape high-level international attention; certainly very few donor officials outside of Kampala have commented upon it thus far. The Ugandan leader will therefore feel much less pressure to step down from the outside world than Mubarak or Gadaffi.

The military victory of the Sri Lankan armed forces over the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE) in May 2009 marked the end of a civil war that had endured more than twenty five years.  While it is arguably too early to draw clear lessons from the Sri Lankan experience, nearly two years on it is possible to generate some tentative conclusions about the kind of political settlement that is emerging in the post-war period.

As was widely reported in the international media at the time, the government’s successful military capture of the dwindling LTTE strongholds in the North during the final months of the war had severe consequences for the civilian population of the region, with many thousands of civilians killed, injured and traumatised. A 2010 report from the International Crisis Group provided credible evidence that the government breached international humanitarian law during these final months by engaging in the intentional shelling of civilians, hospitals and humanitarian operations.  There is also strong evidence that the LTTE used civilians as human shields to protect their fighters and shot those that fled.

Although many Sri Lankans are relieved that the war is over, and amongst some there is a degree of optimism that has not existed for several decades, many others are still traumatised or grieving for relatives and friends that were killed in the final stages of war.  Minority communities still harbour grievances about post-war developments and frustration that the underlying issues of political marginalisation and discrimination that fuelled conflict have not been addressed.

A number of key trends can be identified in the post-war period.  First, the process of heavy militarization of Sri Lankan politics and society associated with the last phase of the war has carried through into peacetime.  The defence budget has increased and the army have become heavily involved in reconstruction activities in the North and East.  More broadly, the government has sought to elevate the position of the veteran society within Sri Lankan society – a move that is strikingly captured by the launch of reality TV programme ‘Ranaviru Real Star‘, a Sri Lankan take on X Factor where the only contestants are servicemen.

A second major trend has been a growing centralisation of power around President Mahinda Rajapaksa, his party and his immediate family. A constitutional amendment was passed in September 2010 which abolished the two-term limit on the Presidency, allowing Rajapaksa to stand for a third term and granting the President greater powers to make political appointments in the civil service and use state resources in elections. Another amendment, which may dilute the existing powers of the provincial councils and MPs, is under consideration, while Rajapaksa’s son, Namal, is being groomed for high office.

Third, the climate of fear that grew during the conflict has been consolidated in the post-war period. It is now difficult for any political opponents to challenge the dominant political discourse, which prioritises economic progress over a renegotiation of the political settlement between the state and minority communities.  Although levels of violence against journalists and NGO workers have declined since 2009, intimidation and censorship continues, and a number of prominent journalists have been arrested or forced to move overseas.

Photo credit: Daria Wadsworth

Sri Lankan soldiers in Polonnaruwa

The government’s efforts to promote reconciliation and political dialogue have been limited. A ‘Lessons Learnt and Reconciliation Commission’ was appointed to investigate the causes and consequences of the war in 2010, but this mechanism was widely criticised by international human rights groups, who argue that the Commission fails to meet international standards of impartiality.  Some have seen more promising signs from a nascent political dialogue between the President and the Tamil National Alliance (TNA), the main Tamil party in Sri Lanka, but these talks are in their early stages.

Sri Lanka’s post war experience highlights some of the potential pitfalls associated with using military victory as a solution to civil war. The Sri Lankan armed forces’ victory relied on providing greater operational freedom for the armed forces, a reliance on nationalist forms of political mobilisation, and strict regulation of the media.  While these characteristics helped Rajapaksa to win the war and have prevented an immediate return to violence, they have also limited his ability to win the peace. The political alliances, ideological orientation, and networks of patronage that emerged during the war have proven difficult to escape during peace time.