Category Archives: Africa

Yonatan L. Morse – Presidential Power and Democratization by Elections in Africa

This is a post by contributor Yonatan L. Morse, based on his article ‘Presidential Power and Democratization by Elections in Africa’ that will be published in the journal Democratization

In traditional studies of democratization, elections are generally the end phase of a prolonged process of liberalization and political opening. However, in recent years political scientists have also entertained the idea that elections might actually be the starting point of a process of democratization. In foundational work on Africa by Staffan Lindberg, he contended that repeated consecutive elections could create self-reinforcing mechanisms that deepened democracy over time. This approach is intuitively appealing for an era in which elections are commonplace, yet many countries still fail to live up to democratic standards. And expectedly, this thesis has been subject to quite widespread replication, scrutiny, and criticism.

In new research, now published online by the journal Democratization, I engage with the democratization by elections thesis in Africa, and argue that repeated elections can induce some forms of democratic behavior but face real limitations when formal presidential powers are strong. This is because under certain conditions strong presidentialism reinforces incentives for elections to become opportunities for clientelistic exchange, rather than moments of self-expression. Powerful presidents that control legislative agendas, access to political appointments, and the purse strings, might lead certain actors to behave more democratically during elections, but not necessarily to develop more robust notions of citizenship. This holds true in Africa because levels of economic development and inequality reinforce the role of clientelism as a central way elites and citizens access their government.

A caveat is in order here first. If the democratization by elections thesis has been so heavily scrutinized (in Africa and elsewhere), what is there to add to the debate? Other studies have generated, at best, mixed results. For instance, in Latin America democracy was restored in the 1980s after periodic interludes of authoritarianism. Therefore, many of the indicators of democracy simply jumped back to their prior levels, and have in fact declined since in many countries. Most importantly, in many countries repeated elections seemed to reinforce rather than undermine authoritarianism. Referred to as electoral or competitive authoritarian regimes, in these cases repeated elections appear to offer incumbents the ability to reshuffle their coalitions, gather information about their levels of support, and generate international legitimacy. In one study of Africa, the authors found that democratization by elections could only truly be found in a handful of cases.

The problem with previous studies is that they often mischaracterize what the democratization by elections thesis is actually about. Lindberg makes a crucial distinction between the “process of democratization” and a “transition to democracy.” Regimes can show improvements in specific indicators of democracy, while not necessarily transitioning to a new regime. Indeed, autocratic regimes can exhibit more or less democratic behavior. For instance, when actors participate more, compete more effectively, or appear to accept the legitimacy of the election process, this is a sign of democratic progress. Specifically, for Lindberg this is evidence of how elections create self-fulfilling expectations. Elections might also lead to improvements in other realms of democratic life like the protection of civil liberties. This indicates some form of socialization by elections, whereby citizens learn from election experience to demand voice in other realms of life. Using this more limited definition of democratization yields quite different results from previous studies.

My contribution is therefore to stress which factors condition the impact of repeated elections on much more specific democratic outcomes. I gathered information on 679 African elections since 1990, and combined this information with data from the Varieties of Democracy (V-DEM) and Presidential Power (PRESPOW) datasets. These data offer new ways to explore both numerous democratic outcomes, and to compare and contrast the extent of formal presidential power across Africa. The V-DEM data includes measures of electoral participation, competition, and legitimacy. But, it also includes indexes of many non-electoral elements of democracy like the protection of civil and private liberties, civil society participation, and equal protection under the law. I controlled for numerous other factors like executive years in office, levels of economic growth and development, foreign aid, ethnic heterogeneity, religion, and historic experiences with democracy.

A key utility of this study is its use of formal measures of presidential power in Africa. In many studies of African politics the focus has often been on the various ways in which presidents violate constitutions and operate through parallel informal institutions. This approach is mistaken for a number of reasons. First, it is equally clear that African presidents routinely amend constitutions, which means that the formal powers of presidents are not trivial. Second, using formal measures of presidential powers limits the risk of endogeneity in a study. For example, if a president unconstitutionally repeals legislation, this is often coded as both a violation of the democratic process and stronger informal presidential power. It is difficult to know what factor is influencing what factor. By focusing on the formal attributes of presidents, this risk of conflation is mitigated.

The analysis shows that improvements in the election process do not depend on levels of presidential power. Using Lindberg’s criteria, with more experience African elections become more participatory, competitive, and legitimate. This validates the notion that elections reinforce actors’ expectations and conditions them to accede by the rules of the game if they want to get ahead. On the other hand, presidential power significantly conditions the impact of repeated election on civil and private liberties, civil society participation, and equal protection under the law. When presidents are formally strong, repeated and consecutive elections limit the ability of elections to socialize more participatory and democratic behavior. These results hold up to various statistical models, and even the inclusion of a measure of the unfairness of the election.

This corresponds with expectations regarding the intersection of presidential power and clientelism in Africa. When levels of access to a system of spoils define the political game, and when presidents control that access, elections become devoid of deeper civic meaning. Rather, actors decide to accept electoral processes because fighting the system keeps them excluded. These results do not reject the democratization by elections thesis, but rather shed light on its limitations. Moreover, it also corroborates that the problem of democratic progress is not only due to the fact that elections themselves are unfair. In many cases the playing field remains heavily tilted toward incumbents, but clientelism and powerful presidents exist in diverse settings and exert an independent impact on democratic outcomes. It is not enough to just get the elections right, the disproportionate formal powers of presidents need to be tempered too.

Zimbabwe – President Mnangagwa blows cold and then hot on elections

These are confusing times for Zimbabwean voters and political commentators.

On 12 January, the spokesperson for the country’s new president, Emmerson Mnangagwa, told journalists that the opposition leader, Morgan Tsvangirai, had asked to postpone the general election. In a meeting between the two, which appears to have been inspired in part by Tsvangirai’s poor health, the opposition leader is said to have demanded that the polls – which are currently scheduled to take place between July and September 2018 – be deferred by three years to allow much needed reforms to be implemented.

The fact that this information was leaked by the government immediately raised suspicions that in reality the story was being used by the ruling party to “fly a kite” for a plan to push the elections back. The idea that a ZANU PF faction was testing the waters to see whether the government could get away a power grab were leant credibility when Tsvangirai’s advisors subsequently rejected the president’s account, claiming that “the matter was never a subject for discussion”.

This interpretation subsequently gained further ground when former Cabinet Minister and Mnangagwa rival Jonathan Moyo used an interview with Zeinab Bedawi on BBC’s Hard Talk to say what many were thinking, alleging that it was in fact the president who had tried to persuade Tsvangirai to agree to an election delay because he is “afraid of losing”.

However, Zimbabwe has entered new and less predictable political times, and rumours don’t last long these days.

Just six days later, the headline on the front page of the Herald, a recognized government mouthpiece, screamed “Elections in five months: President”. According to the story, elections were not to be postponed but rather brought forward. Although July 23 is the earliest date that elections can be held without a change of the law, the president told Zimbabweans that the country was “going for elections in four to five months’ time”.

This was followed up by a wide-ranging interview with the Financial Times in which Mnangagwa committed himself not only to holding elections quickly, but to holding good quality ones. According to the president, “We want fair free credible elections … In the past those who had pronounced themselves against us; who pre-determined that our elections would not be free and fair, were not allowed to come in. But now with this new dispensation I don’t feel threatened by anything.”

Promoting democracy to secure development

In a surprise to many, the president did not leave things there. Instead, in a move designed to build bridges with the West ahead of the World Economic Forum at Davos on 23-26 January, Mnangagwa committed himself to a wide-ranging process of democratization.

This, he pledged, would include holding credible elections and allowing international observers from the Commonwealth and the United Nations to oversee the process – something that the government did not allow last time round.

The president also said that he was willing to enter into talks with the United Kingdom about Zimbabwe re-joining the Commonwealth. This would be something of a fillip for the British government, signalling that Zimbabwe had genuinely returned from the cold — and that Mnangagwa’s administration had recognized that the demonization of the UK that occurred under Robert Mugabe had not been in either country’s interests.

It would also have important implications for politics in Zimbabwe going forwards. In 2013, Robert Mugabe withdrew his country from the Commonwealth after the organization decided to maintain Zimbabwe’s suspension indifferently.

That suspension resulted, in part, from a flawed election in 2002, when Mugabe retained power in controversial circumstances. Allegations of violence and intimidation during the presidential election campaign led the UK, Australia and New Zealand to express deep concern, and a critical report from the Commonwealth Observer Group proved to be the final nail in the coffin.

Thus, while Mnangagwa can expect a soft landing from the Commonwealth as a new leader preaching reform, he would also be taking a risk. Inviting international scrutiny and welcoming international observers could easily backfire, especially if the president turns out to be less popular than he hopes.

Which all raises one big question: does he really mean it?

Why democracy now?

We know that Mnangagwa is not a democrat by instinct.

Although he has sought to disassociate himself from the Gukurahundi massacres of the early 1980s, few believe his protestations of innocence. The deaths of around 20,000 mainly ethnic Ndebeles in Matabeleland occurred while he held prominent roles within the security forces, and his public statements around the time were telling.

According to The Chronicle newspaper, at a rally in Victoria Falls in 1983, Mnangagwa likened the dissidents to cockroaches and bugs – anticipating the language of the Rwandan genocide – and “said the bandit menace had reached such epidemic proportion that the government had to bring ‘DDT’ [pesticide] to get rid of the bandits.”

More recently, it is important that the new president did not come to power through the ballot box but through a very carefully orchestrated palace coup. The lesson that this episode taught him was straightforward: the one thing that can save you when your influence is on the wane and people you know are turning their backs on you is military support.

In other words, the new president is not someone who is ever going to believe the naïve cliché that the pen is mightier than the sword.

Given this, how are we to interpret his newfound commitment to democratic norms and values? It is possible that Mnangagwa has had a “road to Damascus” moment and that the leopard really has changed his spots. But a more likely answer is that he is using the promise of democracy to pursue other ends.

The president knows that Zimbabweans will judge him on the state of the economy, which is looking like a tough ask. Despite all of the talk of a more clean and efficient government, and of an open door for foreign investors, many are waiting to see if the government will come through on its promises before parting with their money.

This represents a significant challenge for Mnangagwa, because while some of his own speeches have stoked popular expectations of an instant recovery, the reality is that the economy has been tanking for so long that it will take a while to turn it around.

One thing that could help to change this picture is debt relief. According to the International Monetary Fund, Zimbabwe will owe external lenders more than US $10 billion. Because this represents over half the country’s annual GDP, the government’s capacity to invest in public service and economic recovery will be severely hampered unless this debt can be cancelled or heavily rescheduled.

And while that is said to be a purely economic decision by key players such as the IMF and the World Bank, in reality it us much easier to justify saving the economic bacon of governments that take and hold power legitimately.

But if Zimbabwe’s new leader is mainly talking up democratic reforms to unlock economic assistance, what does that mean for the next election – might we actually see a “good enough” contest? Or is there a way that the president can have his cake and eat it?

What does a quick election mean?

There are some presidents in the world who do not really understand the nuts and bolts of how an election works – who make mistakes by failing to grasp key procedures and processes, and agree to what the think are small changes, only later to find that they have large consequences.

Emmerson Mnangagwa is not one of these presidents.

Having played a central role in the ZANU-PF election machine for many years, he has an intimate knowledge of how to control the Zimbabwean Electoral Commission, the mechanisms that the party uses to mobilise the vote, and is well aware of the fact that the government’s hegemony relies on a system of intimidation to keep opposition supporters away from the polls.

If he is floating the idea of an early election it suggests that he thinks doing so will be to his advantage. Why might that be the case?

An early election could help Mnangagwa in three ways.

First, going to the polls quickly gives voters less time to be disappointed if the promised economic resurgence does not materialise. The longer the president leaves it, the more he will need to show some green shoots of recovery to back up his claim to be the answer to the country’s financial difficulties.

Second, with Morgan Tsvangirai in poor health and the opposition divided over the question of whether or not he should be replaced by a younger leader, there may be no better time for the president to test his popularity. Whether or not Tsvangirai asked Mnangagwa to postpone the election, it is clear that the Movement for Democratic Change is not in great shape to contest one today.

Finally, the new president is well aware that clever autocrats rig elections well in advance – through the electoral roll, the channelling of patronage, and the manipulation of traditional leaders – and that to detect and expose these abuses the international monitors need to have long-term observers on the ground months ahead of any contest. If a snap election is called, it will be impossible for international monitors to deploy in time – even if the president keeps his promise to invite them – because they would effectively need to be in place already.

A quick election might therefore be just what ZANU PF needs. By taking advantage of Mnangagwa’s honeymoon, the challenges facing the opposition, and the massive head-start that the ruling party enjoys after decades of political manipulation, the government can retain power without needing to do anything on polling day that will create troublesome media headlines.

And by inviting international election observers who will only be able to deploy close to an election day, missing the preparations, the president will be able to sustain the image of being a democratic reformer without actually having to hold a democratic election …

Nic Cheeseman (@fromagehomme) is Professor of Democracy at the University of Birmingham and the author of How to Rig an Election

Mali – Fifth time’s the charm: IBK’s new winning team?

President Ibrahim Boubacar Keita (IBK) has appointed a new prime minister and renewed his cabinet – again. Soumeylou Boubèye Maiga (SBM), who takes over from Abdoulaye Idrissa Maiga, is IBK’s fifth prime minister since he became president in 2013. This is as many prime ministers as former President Alpha Oumar Konaré had during his 10 years in office, and one more than former President Amadou Toumani Touré appointed during his 10 years at the helm of the state. Under IBK, prime ministers have generally lasted less than a year, only Modibo Keita succeeded in eking out 15 months. What explains this frequent turnover at the “primature” during IBK’s first term? And what justifies this latest change in particular?

Though the president formally lacks the power to dismiss the prime minister under Mali’s 1992 semi-presidential constitution,[1] the frequency with which IBK has changed prime ministers during his first term in office is strong evidence of the president’s informal powers. Mali, like other premier-presidential systems, is experiencing a situation of party “presidentialization” (Samuels and Shugart 2010), frequently found under circumstances where the same majority controls both the presidency and the legislative majority. In other words, though the president does not formally have the power to dismiss the prime minister and cabinet, the ruling RPM party and its coalition members have effectively delegated this power to him.

President IBK has faced unprecedented security challenges, compared to his predecessors. The government is struggling to hinder the spread of terrorist groups and reestablish state control over large swaths of the national territory, of which only about 20% is considered safe for travel by the UK Government. Terrorist attacks have increased in frequency over the past year and extended over a larger geographical area, with much of central Mali now also affected. Extremists have targeted symbols of the state, attempting to murder of the Chief Justice of the High Court and kidnapping the president of the district court of Niono. Lack of progress on the implementation of the 2015 peace accord with former rebels has not improved matters.  IBK’s cabinets have also struggled to handle social crises [see previous blog post here] in the health and education sectors, and an attempt at adopting a new constitution failed last year [see previous post here].  Changing prime ministers and cabinet members has provided IBK an avenue for changing a losing team.

Like his predecessor, the new prime minister, SBM, served as defense minister in a previous IBK government – as did the new foreign minister. Clearly security concerns weighed heavily in IBK’s choice for the top cabinet positions in the new government, and unsatisfactory progress in addressing spreading insecurity likely contributed to shortening the tenure in office of SBM’s immediate predecessor.  The new cabinet (see Figure 1 below) includes one portfolio more than the previous one – the Ministry for Local Development – which goes to a member of the RPM leadership, Zoumana Mory Coulibaly. In addition to Coulibaly, five more new cabinet members make their entrance into the government, and five other ministers have changed portfolio. The representation of the ruling RPM remains strong, despite the departure of the former prime minister who was the first vice-president of the party. The five who have left the government include the former minister of Foreign Affairs (a career diplomat who was in charge of negotiating the 2015 peace agreement) and the former minister of Human Rights and Government Reform (who shepherded the failed constitutional reform process). The new government includes one more woman than the previous one.

This most recent change of prime ministers was also the last chance before the looming presidential election in July where IBK is likely to seek reelection for a second term. Other candidates have already announced themselves, including Moussa Sinko Coulibaly, former army general and former minister of territorial administration in IBK’s first cabinet; Kalifa Sanogo (of the ADEMA party – ruling coalition member), mayor of Sikasso, Mali’s second largest city; Modibo Kone, expert at the West African Development Bank (BOAD); and Hamadoun Touré, head of the tech initiative “Smart Africa” and friend of Rwandan President Paul Kagame.

The ease with which IBK has been able to change prime ministers and cabinet members has provided him with scapegoats for failed policy and security initiatives. However, the botched constitutional reform initiative, where plans for a referendum had to be abandoned in the face of widespread opposition notably against provisions for increased presidential powers, is difficult to explain away. The coming months will demonstrate the resilience of the ruling coalition in the face of a mobilized opposition, and on the other side the ability of the opposition to coalesce around a single or a few candidates. It remains to be seen whether IBK this time succeeded in assembling the winning team that will take him over the finish line to a second term in office.

Table 1: Mali’s new cabinet

Position Name

 

Previous position in cabinet  Affiliation

 

Prime Minister Soumeylou Boubèye Maiga NEW, Secretary General of the Presidency, former defense minister under IBK ASMA-CFP, president
Defense Tiéna Coulibaly Same Former amb. to US, former minister
Foreign Affairs Tiéman Hubert Coulibaly Territorial administration (was defense minister till 2016) UDD, president
Security Brigadier Gen. Salif Traoré Same Security sector
Territorial administration Mohamed Ag Erlaf National education RPM, member of leadership
Justice Hamidou Younoussa Maiga Appointed in November by the previous PM Former justice
Economy and Finance Boubou Cissé Same Former World Bank employee
Mines Tiémoko Sangaré Same ADEMA, president
Investment and Private Sector Baber Gano Transportation RPM, secretary general
Solidarity and Humanitarian  Action Hamadoun Konaté Same RPM leadership
National Education Housseïni Amion Guindo Sports CODEM, president
Higher Education and Research Assétou Founé Samake Migan Same Former university professor
Human Rights Kadidia Sangare Coulibaly NEW Former head of the National Commission for Human Rights
Local Authorities Alhassane Ag Hamed Moussa Decentralization and Local Taxation Public sector
National Reconciliation Mohamed El Moctar Same Public sector, former minister
Malian Diaspora and African Integration Abdramane Sylla Same RPM
Transportation Moulaye Ahmed Boubacar NEW RPM leadership
Habitat and Urbanism Cheick Sidiya Sissoko dit Kalifa NEW ADEMA
Agriculture Nango Dembélé Livestock and Fishery RPM leadership
Livestock and Fishery Kane Rokia Maguiraga NEW Public sector
IT and Communication Arouna Modibo Touré Same Public sector
Infrastructure and Equipment Traoré Seynabou Diop Same Public sector
Industrial Development Mohamed Aly Ag Ibrahim Same Public sector
Employment and Professional Training Maouloud Ben Kattra Same Labor union
Health Samba Ousmane Sow Same Health sector
Labor Diarra Raky Talla Same Public sector
Trade, Government Spokesperson Abdel Karim Konaté Same (also gov. spokesperson) ADEMA
Energy and Water Malick Alhousseini Same Public sector
Environment Keita Aïda M’Bo Same Former UNDP employee
Local Development

(NEW PORTFOLIO)

Zoumana Mory Coulibaly NEW RPM, leadership
Territory Planning and Population Adama Tiémoko Diarra Same ADEMA
Culture N’Diaye Ramatoulaye Diallo Same RPM, leadership
Crafts and Tourism Nina Walet Intallou Same CMA (rebel group coordination)
Women, Children and Families Traoré Oumou Touré Same Civil society
Sports Jean Claude Sidibé NEW Sport sector
Religion Thierno Amadou Omar Hass Diallo Same Teaching and consultancies
Youth Amadou Koita Same PS, president

Source: Author’s research.

[1] Article 38 provides that the president “terminates the appointment” of the prime minister “when the latter tenders the resignation of the government” (identical wording as Article 8 in the French 1958 constitution). Formally, the prime minister is thus only accountable to the legislature, leaving Mali in the premier-presidential sub-category of semi-presidential systems. In contrast, in president-parliamentary system, the president is empowered by the constitution to dismiss the prime minister at will, making the premier accountable to both parliament and president. See Shugart and Carey (1992) for further discussion of these two subtypes of semi-presidential systems.

Nigeria – Buhari’s second term ambitions, the Atiku challenge, and the limits of incumbency

President Muhammadu Buhari will, in all likelihood, seek a second term in office. For starters, this is a prospect that is buttressed by much political tradition and precedent; no Nigerian president who lived through a first term has ever walked away from the possibility of a second (at least not willingly).[i] But the president’s desire to retain his office has also been implied by more recent events. Among these are the fact that next year’s budget, which Buhari proposed in November, promises to be Nigeria’s biggest ever, an expansion in spending which analysts have interpreted as designed to shore up his government’s reputation in advance of the 2019 polls.[ii] Along with this has come his de facto endorsement by the state governor’s forum, easily the most influential elite caucused within Buhari’s All Progressive’s Congress (APC) party. With this decisive announcement already secured, an official declaration of Buhari’s intention to contest is almost a formality.

However, taking all of this to mean that Buhari’s second term bid will be a cakewalk would be imprudent. Least of all because a general election is likely to pit him against easily his toughest opponent on Nigeria’s current political stage; namely Alhaji Atiku Abubaker.

There are a number of important details to bear in mind which hint at why Alhaji Atiku might represent a most formidable challenger. Foremost is the fact that he is (in)famously wealthy. This is an especially meaningful quality in a context wherein electoral races are increasingly becoming prohibitively expensive. But aside from (though not unrelated to) his wealth, he has also been a regular fixture on Nigeria’s political stage having both served as Nigeria’s second elected vice-president from 1999 – 2007 and unsuccessfully run for president on three separate occasions (1992, 2007, and 2011).

Atiku’s ubiquity in Nigerian politics has certainly come with its costs. His proximity to an unpopular Nigerian state over such an extended period of time has tainted his reputation and raised numerous question marks about the propriety of his wealth. Critics also point to his having frequently switched party allegiances or, in Nigerian parlance, ‘decamped’ (most recently last month) as evidence of his being conniving or dishonest.

However, his supporters parry accusations of his dishonesty by pointing out that most Nigerian politicians have, at one point or another, decamped and that party switching has effectively become a norm of political behavior in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic, as Nigerian academics have also argued.[ii] Moreover, Atiku’s continuity in Nigerian politics –even if in the form of unsuccessful presidential bids– has allowed him to reinforce a strong base of supporters over time. This formula was put to fruitful use by none other than Buhari himself who, identically, also lost three presidential elections before his victory in 2015 suggesting, perhaps, that in Nigeria’s presidential politics, the fourth time might be the charm.

Atiku has also recently thrown his support behind a number of issues, which are backed by growing constituencies. Of note among these is his fervent support for constitutional reforms to restructure Nigeria’s federal system and allow for a more widely accepted balance between central and local governments. Proponents of these reforms include both national civil society and communities in the oil producing regions of Nigeria, both of which could be important electoral constituencies. Atiku has also recently come out in favor of #EndSARS, a protest movement which has been aimed at disbanding an unpopular police unit known as the Special Anti-Robbery Squad (SARS), and which has largely taken place on Twitter. Weighing-in in favor of proponents of #EndSARS, has shown Atiku to be responsive to the public outcry of a young urban constituency which is increasingly recognized to be an influential ally of opposition candidates in African elections [iii].

But beyond (and perhaps more important than) these personal traits however, there are also important structural factors that make Atiku’s possible bid against Buhari a distinctly viable one. Chief among these factors is the peculiar matter of zoning. Zoning refers to an informal arrangement amongst Nigeria’s political parties which requires that after a president from either the northern or southern half (or ‘zone’) of the country has served two consecutive terms in office, his successor must come from the opposite ‘zone’. This issue partially accounted for northern support in 2015 for Buhari against the re-election bid of former president Goodluck Jonathan, a southerner who, having completed the term of his successor who died in office, was widely castigated by northern politicians for seeking to stay in office beyond the ‘turn’ of his zone. [iv]

The fact that the presidency will remain zoned to the north in the upcoming election means that Atiku will face much less of a challenge from other presidential hopefuls from the south who might otherwise have made threatening incursions into the race. Additionally, Buhari’s heavy handed response to militancy in Nigeria’s oil delta and to the pro-Biafran successions movement in the past two years have not won him very many new supporters in the south, a region which already voted heavily against him in 2015. Taken together, these factors will mean that, in a race against Atiku, Buhari will face a viable challenger in his core base in the north while fighting an uphill battle in much of the south (particularly the south east) where, given Buhari’s unpopularity, Atiku might be deemed a much more palatable choice. An assessment of the above factors, as well as the fact that no similarly viable northern challenger has emerged in the opposition People’s Democratic Party, probably account for Atiku’s decision to jump ship from the APC to the PDP late last month.

In Nigeria’s immediate context, these factors raise the possibility that the 2019 general election could be a hotly contested race that pits two former allies against each other. Politics, of course, makes strange bedfellows but there is no reason to expect that such cohabitation will endure through thick and thin. In more general terms however, the forgoing analyses has also brought to the fore some of the challenges which sometimes make the fact of being an incumbent a double edged sword in increasingly competitive electoral contexts.

[i] Siollun, M. (2009). Oil, politics and violence: Nigeria’s military coup culture (1966-1976). Algora Publishing.

[ii] Omilusi, O., P. (2015). “The Nuances and Nuisances of Party Defection in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic.” International Journal of Multidisciplinary Academic Research, Vol. 3, No. 4.

[iii] Resnick, D. (2012). Opposition parties and the urban poor in African democracies. Comparative Political Studies, 45(11), 1351-1378.

[iv] Owen, Olly, and Zainab Usman. “Briefing: Why Goodluck Jonathan lost the Nigerian presidential election of 2015.” African Affairs 114.456 (2015): 455-471.

Marijke Breuning and John Ishiyama – Rebels-Turned-President and Cabinet Stability

This is a guest post by Marijke Breuning and John Ishiyama. It is based on the article by John Ishiyama, Marijke Breuning, and Michael Widmeier, ‘Organising to rule: structure, agent and presidential management styles in Africa’, that was recently published in Democratization. The article is now available ungated and free to download until the end of February.

Former rebel leaders who become presidents are significantly less likely to make major changes to their cabinet than other presidents. We show this in our study of the impact of presidents’ professional backgrounds on how they manage their cabinet.

Why would former rebels be less likely to replace their cabinet ministers or move them to different posts? We argue that presidents who were former rebel leaders will be less likely to make changes to their cabinets, because their experiences as rebel leaders predispose them to maintaining a team of ministers whom they know and trust.

There has been surprising little attention paid to the impact of presidents’ professional backgrounds on how they constitute and manage their cabinets. Our study begins to fill that gap, examining 98 individual presidential administrations from 36 countries in Africa with presidential or semi-presidential systems, for the period 1990-2009. We included only those presidents who had served at least one complete year in office.

We focus on Africa, because there has been a strong focus on the personality of the president, perhaps due to the neo-patrimonial nature of the state in the continent. However, there has not been much attention paid to presidential management style and its impact on cabinet stability in Africa. Yet, cabinet stability, as well as political and ethnic inclusivity, may be important keys to the durability of a regime – something that is especially relevant for post-conflict societies.

We argue that, after becoming president, the previous experience as a rebel leader is not erased, but instead has an impact on the style of leadership. Rebel leaders have been said to be motivated by both greed and grievance, but often they also have a transcendental goal that motivates followers. They may seek a fundamental change in the political status quo, an end to colonialism, a social revolution, or the creation a new state. All of these objectives require a great deal of persuasion. After all, the potential cost of being a rebel is death.

Hence, rebel leaders need to overcome great odds to entice others to follow them. The result is often a tight-knit group of comrades with strong solidarity. We expect that this revolutionary camaraderie carries over into the former rebel leader’s executive administration.

We find that this is indeed the case, at least in Africa: presidents who are former rebel leaders are significantly less likely than other presidents to engage in major cabinet changes. We found that, on average, the likelihood of major cabinet turnover was 34% when a former rebel was president, whereas the likelihood of major cabinet turnover was 57% for all other presidents. This is shown graphically in Figure 1. This finding supports the idea that rebel commanders, after they become president, seek to maintain solidarity and stability in cabinets – and are more likely to do so than other presidents.

Figure 1: Presidents who were former rebel leaders are less likely to engage in major cabinet turnover (with 95% confidence intervals)

Do these stable cabinets of former rebel leaders differ from those of other leaders on other dimensions as well? We investigated whether former rebel leaders and other presidents differ in the political and ethnic inclusivity of their cabinets. We also sought to establish whether it makes a difference if the leader came to power through regular (e.g. elections or other legally sanctioned processes) or irregular means (such as coups, rebellions, or mass protests).

We found that former rebels leaders are not different from other presidents in terms of the partisan inclusivity of their cabinets. Instead, the political inclusivity of the cabinet was lessened by greater fractionalization of the legislature, as well as the dominance of the president’s party in the legislature. The more dominant the president’s party, the more politically homogeneous and, hence, less inclusive the cabinet.

There is a significant difference, however, between former rebel leaders and other presidents in terms of the inclusion of various ethnic groups in their cabinets. This finding can perhaps be explained by the nature of many African rebellions. Insurrections are often fueled by ethnic grievances and, once in power, a former rebel leader will seek to include only members of his or her own ethnic group. This is consistent with the desire to work only with subordinates the leader knows well and trusts.

Interestingly, presidents who came to power via irregular means (such as coups, rebellions, or mass protests) were more likely to engage in major cabinet turnovers during their presidencies than those who had come to power via regular means (such as elections and other legally sanctioned processes). This may suggest that presidents who come to power under conditions of political crisis have greater uncertainty about their political allies, and this may result in greater turnover in the cabinet. This is not a surprising result: turnover is higher for presidents who ascend to power via coups, rebellion or protest, because they seek to purge the cabinet of holdovers from the previous administration.

Our findings support the notion that the characteristics the president as agent, here operationalized as the leader’s previous experiences, have a powerful effect on his or her managerial behavior. We theorized that rebel leaders are more likely to be transformative leaders, who value transcendental political goals and group solidarity. This translates into greater cabinet stability, but also into less inclusivity (at least in ethnic terms).

In sum, the characteristics of the president as a political agent – and particularly his or her professional background – warrant far more attention than they have thus far received.

Marijke Breuning is Professor of Political Science at the University of North Texas in Denton, Texas. She can be reached at Marijke.Breuning@unt.edu

John Ishiyama is University Distinguished Research Professor of Political Science at the University of North Texas in Denton, Texas. He can be reached at John.Ishiyama@unt.edu

Zimbabwe – Removing a tyrant but not a tyranny?

As the upper echelons of Zimbabwe’s ruling party shift following President Robert Mugabe’s ouster, what can we expect from the ‘new’ regime in Harare?

The ‘Soft’ Coup

When on 14 November, army personnel carriers rolled into Harare, social media was ablaze with speculation. At 4 am on the 15th, the military appeared on the public broadcaster to announce that they had ‘secured’ the first family and were working to arrest criminals around the president. Military officials stated repeatedly and emphatically that this was not a coup, and that the constitution had not been abrogated. On 21 November, after a week of negotiations, Mugabe’s removal from the head of the ruling party and the instituting of impeachment proceedings against him, he resigned – ending his 37-year tenure. Vice President Phelekezela Mphoko became possibly the shortest-serving acting president in African history upon Mugabe’s resignation, but his whereabouts remain unknown. Emmerson Mnangagwa was then chosen by ZANU-PF to be the new president of Zimbabwe, just twenty minutes later. Mnangagwa was inaugurated on 24 November as Zimbabwe’s third president.

It appears that the military had been planning their move for some time and had consulted with regional and international allies – although many, including China, deny this – to ensure that any intervention to remove the long-standing head of state would have international buy-in. But to carry it off, they had been warned that it needed to appear as legitimate and bloodless as possible. The military’s move had been planned for just before the December ZANU-PF congress where it was expected that Vice President Emmerson Mnangagwa would be removed; but it was moved up when Mnangagwa was unceremoniously removed on 6 November and Army General Constantine Chiwenga (Mnangagwa’s closest ally) received reports that he was to be arrested upon arrival in Harare from a trip to China.

Mugabe’s removal was extremely popular – prompting thousands of Zimbabweans to march and celebrate in the country’s largest cities, and in cities around the world. Despite the popular celebrations, most analysts remain sceptical and believe that his removal has allowed the ruling party which backed him and sustained his regime for four decades to ‘renew’ itself. The title of this article was taken from a quote by Bulawayo MDC Senator, David Coltart on the day of the president’s ouster – a reminder that the system that had sustained Mugabe for so long remained intact, despite his removal.

The Enigmatic Mr Mnangagwa

For those who don’t watch Zimbabwe closely, Emmerson Mnangagwa appeared to be a new, fresh and unknown figure. But Mnangagwa – or the ‘Crocodile’ (Ngwena) – has been at the heart of ZANU-PF and Zimbabwe’s politics for more than four decades. Mnangagwa is one of just two politicians who have served in every cabinet under Mugabe since 1980. Billed as Mugabe’s most likely successor in 2014 when he was appointed republican vice president, he and his allies had increasingly come under attack in 2017 from Women’s League President and First Lady Grace Mugabe as well as the ‘young Turks’ in the faction who supported her.

Despite the public attacks against him, Mnangagwa has spent the last two years positioning himself as a pragmatist and negotiator who would help to resolve the political and economic crisis wrought by the Mugabe administration. He had been reaching out to the farmers dispossessed in the early 2000s, to foreign diplomats in Harare who had been eager to see meaningful re-engagement with ZANU-PF and the opposition whose fortunes had declined markedly since 2009. This was partly the reason for his ouster, when leaked Central Intelligence Organisation (CIO) documents reported on by Reuters suggested that Mnangagwa was planning a post-Mugabe future which would involve a 5-year transitional government with the opposition, and the backing of Western diplomats.

Three days after his inauguration, Mnangagwa formally dissolved Cabinet and announced that he was returning his key ally, former Finance Minister Patrick Chinamasa to his previous position to allow for continuity. Several key members of Mugabe’s last cabinet are facing charges, and their families have been subjected to significant abuse, harassment and intimidation by the security forces following the takeover. The former finance minister was also beaten so badly during his detention by the military that he had to be hospitalised. Despite Mnangagwa’s inaugural statement regarding a ‘return to democracy’ in Zimbabwe, many Zimbabweans are (understandably) sceptical. Analysts Tinashe Chimedza and Tamuka Chirimambowa refer to the new president as the ‘Trojan horse’ of the ‘deep state,’ which was desperate to ensure its political and economic survival. And despite the apparent lack of bloodshed of the ‘soft coup,’ it is clear that the involvement of the military in politics (and their choosing of an amenable successor) may set a concerning precedent.

The new president’s political history also provides some reasons to be suspicious regarding the likelihood of democratic breakthrough in Zimbabwe – he was implicated in the manipulation of electoral processes (including the stolen and violent 2008 polls) and in the misappropriation of diamond revenues in Zimbabwe and the DRC. He was also complicit in – and thus partly responsible for – the politically-motivated killings of 20 000 Zimbabwean civilians in the Matabeleland region between 1983 and 1987. As noted by Historian Stuart Doran, “Along with Mugabe and the minister responsible for defence, Sydney Sekeramayi, none of the Zanu politicians was more embroiled in the Gukurahundi than Mnangagwa. He was not the architect, but he was one of them. Of that there is no doubt.”

Where to from here?

If reports from inside the political negotiations are correct, it appears that Mnangagwa is still considering an ‘inclusive’ government which includes prominent members of the opposition – who had been caught completely unaware by the rejigging of the political playing field. It appears that he would like to use an inclusive arrangement to consolidate international goodwill, and possibly to postpone the elections scheduled for mid-2018. This is a risky prospect for the opposition, as suggested by Brian Raftopoulos; such an arrangement is likely to be a poisoned chalice for the weakened opposition who will almost certainly be given a marginal and negligible role. International political goodwill also already seems to be at a decade-long high, with the arrival of the first British Minister to the country in twenty years – though the content of the engagement was hardly a resounding endorsement. Less than a week after Mnangagwa’s inauguration, a Chinese envoy had also arrived in Harare and extended an official invitation from President Xi to the new head of state. Such events – along with frequent displays of public goodwill – may lead instead to a decision by Mnangagwa to renege on the negotiations for a more inclusive Cabinet.

The four years since Mugabe’s last electoral victory in 2013 have seen a collapse of living standards in the country. Zimbabwe’s economy is now half the size it was in 2000, with 95% of citizens no longer formally employed and a national budget of just $4 billion USD – of which 97% was spent on public sector salaries in 2016. The health and education systems are barely functional and propped up by donor interventions while the substitute currency has seen hyper-inflation soar at over 300% for 2017, despite the dollarization of the economy in 2009. Reports suggest that political insiders had been raiding the economy of hard currency while military elites monopolised the income from the country’s diamond reserves. On 28 November, Mnangagwa announced that he would be combining ministries and streamlining staff in an attempt to speed up decision-making, cut costs and increase productivity. He also plans to quickly revise the country’s indigenisation laws which legislate that all businesses must cede a 51% stake to a Zimbabwean partner. Suddenly – and for the first time in months – there are more dollars available in ATM’s, and reports suggest that black market premiums on notes have dropped from 85% to just 25%.

Although Mnangagwa clearly plans to repair the ailing economy, the likelihood of full liberalisation is low, given the high levels of military involvement – particularly in lucrative sectors such as diamond mining. Meanwhile, Ignatius Chombo – the finance minister at the point of Mugabe’s removal – has been charged with defrauding the central bank. These charges allegedly relate to corruption perpetrated two decades ago while serving as minister of local government, suggesting that the ‘new’ government will be loath to prosecute for more recent crimes in which current members of the administration might be implicated. Having instituted a three-month amnesty period for externalised ill-gotten funds and threatened to prosecute thereafter, it remains to be seen how tough the new administration will be on corruption. The high levels of complicity across the political and military elite suggest that this is unlikely. It appears that Mnangagwa is already reaching out to former dispossessed Zimbabwean farmers to help re-boot the agricultural economy – along with his flagship ‘Command Agriculture’ project.

Looking forward, the most likely outcome for Zimbabwe’s future is that we will probably see the emergence of something approaching a ‘developmental’ authoritarian state – in which levels of repression remain significant and citizen’s political and civic rights continue to be constrained, but the economy begins to grow again and people’s material prospects improve markedly. Having billed himself as a technocrat and pragmatist, Mnangagwa appears to have wagered that he can normalise relations with Western donor states to improve the economy and that – after decades of downward revision of democratic prospects in Zimbabwe and shifting donor goalposts – the international community would be satisfied by a veneer of democratic legitimacy coupled with significant economic growth and improved trade relations. However – in a stark break from the experience of his predecessor – Mnangagwa will only have two presidential terms in which to do so, following the introduction of a new constitution in 2013.

Amidst reports that Western diplomats had long been backing Mnangagwa’s push for the presidency, it is imperative that his administration is treated warmly, but with a healthy dose of scepticism, and that significant levels of aid disbursement are linked to meaningful democratic reforms. Equally, while they still have some leverage, opposition actors must also negotiate for an even playing field and the repeal of the most repressive legislation that had served the ZANU-state project for so long. If they fail to capitalise on it, this opportunity won’t come around again soon.

Kenya – A look into pivotal role observers play in elections

This post by Prof. Nic Cheeseman first appeared in The Nation on 28 November

The Supreme Court approved President Uhuru Kenyatta’s October 26 victory, but it is still too early to fully evaluate the court’s impact on the elections, and the impact of the elections on the Court.

What we can do now is to look back on the role played by international election observers, who have received a great deal of criticism in Kenya.

A week or so ago, I published a piece on this topic in the Washington Post with Todd Moss and Jeffrey Smith.

The article was designed to continue the debate about what role international monitors should play, and how they can be strengthened.

ELECTION OBSERVERS
However, in the rush to edit the piece down to the required word length many important points were cut.

As a result, some people have asked for more information on our argument, others have requested further elaboration on the kinds of reforms that could be introduced, and others still have complained that the analysis did not do justice to the complex challenges that observers face.

In response, I shall use this column to try and set the record straight.

GUESTS

What are observers to do?

One of the main challenges for observation teams is that people tend to exaggerate their power.

Ahead of the elections, many Kenyans invested considerable confidence in the ability of missions from the Carter Center and the European Union.

But the rules that observers must play by, if they are not to get into trouble with both their employers and the governments whose elections they oversee, means that there is only so much they can do.

Most obviously, international observers operate in foreign states at the pleasure of the host government, and so have to be particularly careful when alleging rigging.

RIGGING

There are plenty of countries that do not allow foreign teams in – such as Zimbabwe, from where I am writing – and so observers must protect their reputation in order to maintain access.

As a result, monitors often find it difficult to make strong statements when they suspect foul play but cannot prove it.

This situation held in Kenya following the election of August 8, when the opposition quickly pointed to missing forms and electronic irregularities as evidence of rigging, but hard evidence of exactly how many votes had been added or lost was not available.

The Supreme Court interpreted the failure of the Independent Electoral and Boundaries Commission (IEBC) to provide information and access to its servers to imply malpractice, even though it lacked concrete evidence of the extent of rigging.

This was an assumption that the Carter Center and the European Union were simply not in a position to make.

CIVIL SOCIETY
Similarly, it is not well-known that observers have no right to directly intervene in elections, even to stop abuses that they directly witness.

Instead, they are supposed to record and report malpractice – leaving intervention to domestic institutions such as the electoral commission and the police.

This is a particularly weak position when we factor in that observers have no power of enforcement – they can make recommendations in their reports, but they have no financial or judicial leverage with which to ensure they are acted upon.

That role falls to domestic civil society and international donors.

As a result, there is a significant discrepancy between the hope and faith that opposition parties place in international observers and their capacity to deliver.

EXPECTATION
What did observers do well?

Many people have been left with the impression that the teams from the European Union and the Carter Center let the Kenyan people down in 2017, not because they were worse than any other groups, but because people expected more from them.

Most of the times that I have heard this argument rolled out, it has rested on three foundations.

The first is that observers did not condemn the August 8 elections, whereas the Supreme Court did.

The second is that observers did not do their job properly because they stayed in Nairobi, did some shopping, and then went back to their comfortable jobs in Europe and North America.

The third is that observers always do the same thing, letting the bad guys off the hook.

RESEARCH
I have already explained why the first criticism misunderstands the power and role of international election observation.

The second criticism is also misguided.

The better and more thorough international missions, such as the Carter Center and the European Union, have a long-term component, placing observers in the country months ahead of the polls.

They also hire political experts who understand the country’s political history and can explain the context of the elections and the ways in which they tend to be rigged.

It is also incorrect to suggest that observers do not travel outside of the capital city.

CREDIBILITY

Almost all monitoring teams locate their staff in polling stations across the country in a reasonably representative way, and so can report on both the rural and urban experience.

The notion that international observers always do the same thing is also clearly false.

Kenyans only have to think back to 2007, when it was the European Union that called into question President Mwai Kibaki’s victory, citing figures from the Molo and Kieni constituencies.

It is also clear that international teams also adapted their approach in 2017, with both the Carter Center and the European Union making strong statements ahead of the “fresh” election on October 26.

These raised concerns about the lack of reforms within the electoral commission and the treatment of the Judiciary, and made it clear that the election was unlikely to be credible.

Thus, while the 2017 elections highlight a number of problems with the system of selection observation, I see most of these as relating to the way election observation works, rather than the people who do it and the decisions that they make.

RECOMMENDATIONS

What can be improved?

We now face the question of how election observation can be improved.

We need to do this for two reasons. On the one hand, a survey conducted by Ipsos Kenya in mid October 2017 found that a majority (59 per cent) of Kenyans want international observers to monitor future elections.

On the other hand, half of all respondents in the same survey agreed that “they make no difference when it comes to stealing votes”.

Thus, while observers are clearly needed, their reputation needs to be strengthened. How can this be done?

BURDEN OF PROOF
One obvious point is that observers can do a better job of communicating the limits to their powers.

But they cannot do this alone – the media, and the way in which observers statements are reported, is also a problem.

During the 2017 elections in Kenya, a number of observer reports that highlighted positive and negative aspects of the polls were reported as having given the process a “clean bill of health”.

However, while good Public Relations is important it will not be enough. The role of observers also needs to be bolstered.

There are two ways in which this can be done.

The first is to change the burden of proof, so that monitors can ask governments to demonstrate that processes are robust and transparent when they have concerns – even if these have not been proven.

STATEMENTS
A second related change would be to have much stronger pre-electoral statements that flag up issues of concern and highlight key challenges in a much stronger way than tends to occur at present.

Of course, one implication of this more tough approach is that in some cases observers may be asked to leave, or not be invited back – but this might not be such a bad thing.

If being present at an election means legitimising a deeply problematic process, staying away may be better.

International monitors could also take longer to issue their first post-election statements.

We know that in many cases election day looks great and the problems emerge halfway through the counting process.

REFORMS

It therefore makes sense to leave any statement until the counting is near complete – and to go to greater lengths to stress that any comments made at this stage are preliminary and must not be taken or reported as a final evaluation of the quality of the polls.

All of these reforms would represent small but significant improvements, but they will count for little if observers do not have the funding, skills and experience needed to actually detect electoral fraud.

At present, they are managed by good people with considerable experience. But they are also operating in a rather old-fashioned way.

EXPERTISE

As is traditional, the European Union team placed people in polling stations across the country.

Academic research suggests that this has the effect of reducing election rigging in the polling stations in which observers are present, but that this has little impact on the quality of the overall rigging because the malpractice is simply moved elsewhere.

A better use of these staff positions would therefore be to establish a high quality team that can interrogate the electoral register and voting and counting process.

TECHNOLOGY

In 2017, the European Union had a data analyst as part of the team, but not a set of experts on biometric technology and digital electoral processes.

Yet most of the problems with the election related to the transmission of forms, and the need to evaluate claims of hacking and the fabrication of results.

The implication is clear: Detecting rigging in the future will require monitors to adapt.

As elections change, so must election observers.

Togo – Trouble for long-tenured President Faure Gnassingbé

President Faure Gnassingbé is facing relentless calls for his departure. The sale of T-shirts with the slogan #Faure Must Go is booming.  Since August, massive waves of protesters in the streets have demanded a return to the 1992 constitution with its two-term limits. Faure is currently serving his third five-year term. He took over as president in 2005 at the death of his father, Gnassingbé Eyadéma, who came to power in April 1967 through a coup. This year thus marks the 50th anniversary of one family’s rule over Togo.

Togo has become an anomaly in West Africa – the only country where a president is serving more than two terms. Along with The Gambia, Togo voted against a proposal to limit the number of terms presidents can serve across the ECOWAS region, a proposal put forward at a regional summit in 2015. Since then, long-serving autocrat Yahya Jammeh of The Gambia lost reelection in 2016. The coalition that brought his successor Adama Barrow to power has presidential term limits as one of its declared constitutional reform priorities. This would leave Togo as the only country in West Africa without presidential term limits.

Protests against presidential overstay in office have been ongoing for months. At the forefront of the demonstrations taking place in major cities across the country has been the National Panafrican Party (PNP) of Tikpi Atchadam, an opposition party created in 2014. The PNP conducted an active grassroots mobilizing campaign that demonstrated its effectiveness when on August 19  the party organized demonstrations simultaneously in four out of five regions of the country, from north to south, calling for a return to the 1992 constitution and an end to the ruling family dynasty. Thousands of Togolese took to the streets in five cities, including Lomé, Sokodé (the country’s second largest city and Tikpi’s home) and Kara, a traditional bastion of support for the Gnassingbé family (Eyadéma was born nearby). The demonstrations were violently repressed and at least two people were killed in Sokodé. Togolese of the diaspora also demonstrated in New York, Berlin, Libreville and Accra.

This show of force and capacity of mobilization has reinvigorated the Togolese opposition. In contrast to most of the country’s longtime opposition leaders who hail from the southern part of the country, Tikpi is a northerner like Faure and his family. His rise as an influential opposition leader has shattered the traditional north-south divide that has characterized Togolese politics since the 1960s. Worried by his mobilizing power, the government has sought to cast Tikpi as a “radical Muslim.” The August demonstrations led to the creation of a 14-party opposition coalition and further marches in September that drew more than 100,000 Togolese into the streets across the country. Alleging threats on his life, Tikpi has been less visible in recent weeks, leaving the limelight to historical opposition leaders such as Jean-Pierre Fabre (ANC) and Brigitte Adjamagbo-Johnson (CPDA).

The government has responded to the protests with the adoption of a constitutional reform bill that would reintroduce two-term limits – the measure would, however, not be retroactive, meaning that Faure could run again in 2020 and 2025. The opposition boycotted the legislative vote on the bill in September and it failed to muster the required 4/5 majority vote to pass. The ruling party declared it would instead submit the constitutional changes to a referendum, which is yet to take place. As clashes continued in October and led to several hundred Togolese seeking refuge in Ghana, Togo’s neighbors have gotten involved in seeking a solution to the political crisis. At least 16 people have been killed since August, including two soldiers. President Nana Akufo-Addo has been designated by ECOWAS to act as mediator and his representative traveled to Lomé in November in an effort to calm the situation and create conditions for dialogue.  In the same vein, Tikpi, Fabre and Adjamago-Johnson met with African Union President Alpha Condé in Paris on November 21 to discuss modalities for political dialogue with the government.

Regional mediation efforts may be bearing fruit. Faure Gnassingbé has declared that talks could start in “a few weeks.” It remains to be seen whether common ground can be found. The opposition would have reasons to be wary. Faure’s father Eyadéma weathered the 1991 national conference and gradually voided the constraints on presidential power and tenure introduced in the 1992 constitution through a process of “putsch by installments” (Handy 2005, p.48). Similarly, the incumbent president has ably avoided discussion of institutional reforms – notably the return to presidential two-term limits – a discussion mandated by the Accord Politique Global (APG) of 2006. The APG was signed by the ruling and opposition parties following the 2005 post-election violence in which several hundred Togolese died.  The 2010 presidential election was again contested, though demonstrations did not turn as violent. In response, Faure included historical opposition leader Gilchrist Olympio in a power-sharing government, thereby weakening the opposition.

Given the less than stellar family track record in terms of respecting past agreements, the opposition may worry that any measure short of ending the family rule will again be rolled back. The military could come to play a crucial role, as it did in 2005 when it ensured the transition of power from father to son at the death of Eyadéma.  The majority of army officers are from northern Togo, notably from Faure’s home region of Kara. Faure has publicly renewed his confidence in the military and blamed the opposition for the October violence that caused two soldiers’ deaths. On its part, the opposition sent an explicit message to the Togolese security forces on November 18 during its latest round of marches with the reading of a statement declaring “you are our brothers.”

While discussions continue on conditions for initiating political dialogue, the opposition coalition is maintaining pressure and has called for demonstrations again on November 29-30 and December 2.

Tanzania – Where President Magufuli’s political and economic strategy meet

This month, Tanzania’s President John Pombe Magufuli marks two years in office. And what a two years it has been.

On the political front, observers have noted a pronounced authoritarian turn. Opposition party rallies have been all but banned.[1] Politicians, musicians and activists have been repeatedly detained and charged with various offenses. A growing number of newspapers have been shut down. One prominent opposition politician survived an assassination attempt. The list goes on.

Politics aside, Magufuli’s presidency has also left its mark on Tanzania’s economy. What defines the new strategy is only gradually emerging. It nevertheless involves a mix of high-profile anti-corruption measures, increased public spending on big infrastructure, an effort to reign in multinationals perceived to be exploiting Tanzania’s natural resources, and the apparent marginalization of Tanzania’s domestic private sector, to name but a few elements.

While analysts have reviewed Magufuli’s political and the economic interventions elsewhere, the aim of this post is to consider how they intersect. To what extent does Magufuli’s economic approach serve his political ends? What could we then infer about how his political aims may inform his economic management?

In what follows, I will point to ways in which Magufuli’s economic strategy supports the consolidation of the President’s own, quite fragile political base, and this by reducing the threat posed by the opposition camp and—perhaps even more dangerous—the threat coming from within CCM.

A note on ideology

First things first, by focusing on the political implications of Magufuli’s economic strategy, I in no way want to suggest that we can reduce his economic thinking to a purely political calculus.

Unpicking what broader ideology drives Magufuli is a tricky business.

Some liken his economic approach to “father of the nation” Julius Nyerere’s Ujamaa brand of socialism with its emphasis on state-led development and its principled commitment to greater socio-economic equality.

Other observers, less charitable in their assessment, refer to Magufuli’s tenure thus far as a “period of grand confusion, deep uncertainty, and incomprehensible eclecticism.”

Building on that last point, we probably won’t get very far by attempting to define Magufuli’s Ideology, capital ‘I’, as a coherent vision or doctrine. There is nevertheless a bundle of ideas, doubtless with its own internal contradictions, that underpins his economic interventions. A well-rounded study would consider these from at least three different angles, namely as a legitimating framework, a development strategy and, finally, a political strategy.

This post focuses more narrowly on the last element, how Magufuli’s ideas about running the economy interact with his political aims.  And here I will argue that, far from an “incomprehensible eclecticism”, there is a fairly consistent logic at work.

The pre-Magufuli political economy of Tanzania’s Chama Cha Mapinduzi

To understand Magufuli and his “fifth phase” government, we must briefly situate it in relation to what came before.

The same ruling party—TANU, later rechristened CCM—has governed mainland Tanzania since Independence. Since 1985 when Nyerere stood down, there has also been a regular succession of presidents every ten years.

Despite this regularity, though, much has changed in Tanzania’s politics in recent decades.

As noted, President Nyerere first set Tanzania on a socialist path, favouring a state-led development strategy. Of particular significance was the relative marginalisation of the private sector, and especially leaders’ efforts to maintain a strict separation between business and politics. This economic approach had knock-on effects for the consolidation of Tanzania’s ruling party, which grew into one of the most highly institutionalized in the region. By limiting private sources of political finance, it helped Tanzania’s leadership ensure a more centralized distribution of patronage and thereby reinforced party cohesion and discipline.[2]

This political balance began to break down with the economic crises of the late 1970s, the liberalizing economic reforms of the 1980s, and ultimately, Nyerere’s retirement as President (1985) and Chairman of CCM (1990). As the private sector expanded, and as CCM lost access to state resources following the 1992 multiparty transition, the Party of erstwhile socialist renown acquired an altogether different reputation. Leaders at all levels grew increasingly entangled with a variety of business interests, resulting in the emergence of competing patronage networks within CCM.

These developments had profound effects both on the government’s economic management and on the internal politics of the ruling party. As factions grew stronger within CCM, they undermined party cohesion and discipline just as they weakened the government’s ability to develop a consistent economic policy and to check corruption. As Cooksey (2011) neatly summarises, ‘Within the ruling party, the use of rent-seeking of all types to advance the interests of groups of rentiers intent on taking control of the party has heightened pressures to loot the public purse and natural resource.’ Gray (2015) clarifies, ‘Neither the President nor any one particular faction could enforce its particular agenda within the ruling party.’

This was the status quo, at least up until CCM’s selection of a presidential candidate to contest in the 2015 general elections. And then something surprising happened.

Two rival factions, one headed by outgoing President Kikwete and another by his political ally turned rival, Edward Lowassa, knocked each other out of the nomination race. This left the path clear for a relatively low profile presidential aspirant to snatch the prize. That was Magufuli the Unexpected, to use the moniker assigned by one sharp-tongued blogger.

President Kikwete at first appeared satisfied with the result, having at least succeeded in marginalising Lowassa, who promptly defected to the opposition. Magufuli soon made it clear, though, that he would not be playing to anyone else’s tune. Rather, in a series of highly mediatised early moves as President, he launched an anti-corruption campaign and announced a series of new investments in infrastructure, health and education.

As he embarked on this new agenda, though, his political base was far from secure. One, he faced a threat from a newly emboldened opposition. More problematic still, he did not have the backing of a strong network within the ruling party itself. Rather, he had to contend with multiple rival factions, none of which were necessarily pleased with his new development zeal, of which there were both good and bad reasons to be critical.[3]

In what follows, I emphasise how Magufuli appears to have incorporated into his overarching economic approach a strategy to shore up his own political strength, and this by shifting the emphasis away from the private sector and back to a state-centred development focus. This shift helps limit the political finance available to the official opposition as well as oppositional factions within CCM whilst reinforcing Magufuli’s centralized control over resources.

Turning back the clock?

The President’s economic interventions have at times appeared to move in many different directions at once, not always with a clear plan behind them nor with consistent follow through.

But the renewed emphasis on privileging the state as a central actor in the economy is one point on which there does seem to be some consistency.

A recent World Bank report observed that Tanzania’s growth is currently supported by substantial government investment, notably in big infrastructure projects including a standard gauge railway, new roads, expanding the Dar port and an oil pipeline from Uganda.

Yet even as public-sector spending has increased, the private sector is getting squeezed.

According to the Bank report, this is due to a mix of government interventions, including cost-cutting measures that have hit the hospitality industry hard and a crackdown on tax evasion combined with various tax hikes.

Business associations and some prominent investors have called on the government to improve the business climate. They cite policy unpredictability, the ‘brutality’ of the Tanzania Revenue Authority, and low government spending as all negatively impacting business.

Another consequence of the overall downward trend has been a spike in the number of non-performing loans, which has in turn prompted banks to increase interest rates, adding a credit crunch to the already difficult conditions confronting business.

A recent report from the Bank of Tanzania helps clarify the extent of the slowdown. Annual growth in credit to the private sector, often used to assess private sector expansion, has plummeted from 25 percent in November 2015, the month Magufuli took office, to 1 percent in July 2017.

The political significance  

It is tempting to think that some of the private sector downturn, and certainly the credit squeeze, could be an unintended consequence. Yet it also serves a political purpose, one that has been pursued through more targeted efforts as well.

First, the limited private sector expansion means that private sources of political finance are growing scarce. As noted earlier, it is this private finance that—up till now—has contributed to the fragmentation of patronage networks within CCM and hence fuelled intra-party tensions. By extension, it is also this private finance that could pose a threat to Magufuli, who—it should be remembered—did not have a strong factional base when he took over the presidency.

Beyond this general observation, though, individuals linked to the opposition or rival factions in CCM have gone through an especially rough period recently. Particular entrepreneurs—notably aligned with Lowassa, among others—now face a range of charges from tax evasion to embezzlement. Although perhaps well-founded, the timing of these charges leaves room to wonder about a possible ulterior motive. The fate of these businessmen can certainly provide a useful signal to other potential political financiers, who one CCM politician described as “scared”, having “taken a position of wait and see.”[4]

Beyond closing the taps on private finance, Magufuli has also tried to build up a more centralized source of revenue within CCM, an attempt that supports his broader aim of ensuring greater party discipline.

Insisting he wants to ensure the Party’s independence from its erstwhile business backers, he has launched an audit of party funds, including a review of party-owned properties, many of which it is alleged had been ‘privatized’ by various CCM officials and politicians.[5]

The President, as party Chairman, has also sought to directly regulate excessive campaign spending and factional politicking within CCM. In the 2017 internal party elections, for instance, this effort included a strict ban on bribery and on the widespread practice known as ‘kupanga safu’, meaning to ‘line up’ in Swahili or, in this case, to assemble an informal slate of candidates within the Party. While it is unclear how successfully these bans were enforced, numerous internal election results were scrapped due to alleged malpractice.

In addition to this focus on CCM, the opposition’s sources of private finance—beyond Lowassa’s factional ties—have come under attack. Freeman Mbowe, Chairman of the leading opposition party CHADEMA, has been a persistent target. Property belonging to his company, Kilimanjaro Veggie Ltd (KVL), which is based in his Hai constituency, was allegedly damaged by the District Commissioner, whom Mbowe has dragged to court. More recently, Mbowe’s newspaper, Tanzania Daima, was banned, thereby cutting off another source of finance. Responding to these government actions, Mbowe has decried how, since the 2015 elections, “The wealth, land and even businesses of opposition leaders have been seized or nationalised.”

Where to from here?

I have argued that, whatever other ends Magufuli’s economic strategy may serve, it appears to be aimed at cutting off the sources of political finance on which his political opponents, both in CCM and the opposition, depend.

In this sense, the President’s economic interventions do not only evoke the Ujamaa era because of their state-centred development focus and more equitable resource distribution; they also harken back to that earlier period in so far as they prevent the consolidation of rival factions and thereby help to reinforce discipline within the ruling party.

These assertions aside, a few concluding caveats are in order.

I reiterate, by focusing on Magufuli’s use of economic tools to achieve his political ends, I am not suggesting these are the only ones at his disposal. He is also, for instance, pursuing a version of a “autocratic legalism”, i.e. “the use, abuse and non-use of the law in the service of the executive branch”.[6]

What’s more, the outcome of Magufuli’s economic gambit remains highly uncertain.

One, there are signs that Tanzania’s economy is struggling, yet the government is unwilling to consider this, instead making use of the Statistics Act (2015) to arrest and charge an opposition politician for questioning official GDP figures. Presumably Magufuli understands the political threat posed by an economic downturn and would prefer this topic stay off the table.

Two, politicians both within and outside of CCM are questioning the government’s current policy orientation. While for the most part these criticisms have remained subdued, last week’s debate in parliament over the proposed National Development Plan 2018/19 was unusually lively. “This Government doesn’t believe in the private sector,” accused one CCM MP, adding, “If we have returned to Ujamaa, tell us.” Other ruling party MPs went further, challenging inconsistencies in the government’s plans, questioning their viability, and accusing the Ministry of Finance of copy-pasting reports from one year to the next. The prospect of a rebellion from within CCM, while seemingly remote, is not altogether unfathomable. Certainly, there is dissatisfaction simmering under the surface.

Three, even as Magufuli pursues his anti-corruption drive, there are some potentially sensitive issues he seems unwilling to address. More generally, this raises questions about the extent to which he is temporarily weakening the “groups of rentiers” within CCM, leaving them to lie low only to re-emerge at a later date. There is also some suggestion that close allies of Magufuli are benefiting from his protection, implying he is simply building up a new network to bolster his own position.

Ultimately, to achieve his stated aims, whether economic or political, Magufuli needs nothing short of an economic transformation in Tanzania. Plenty of surprising things have happened in the first two years of his tenure. We’ll have to wait and see what he can manage in the time remaining.

Notes

[1] MPs can hold rallies in their own constituencies, but other public meetings are not allowed.

[2] See, for instance: Gray, 2015; Gray, forthcoming. This relationship is also explored in my PhD thesis.

[3] The reasons for criticising Magufuli were well-founded in so far as his economic approach appeared to be poorly coordinated, unilaterally imposed and potentially ineffectual in the long-run. These reasons could be seen as bad, by contrast, when they came from vested interests worried about their own poorly justified economic advantages.

[4] Interview with CCM politician, January 2016.

[5] See the speech he delivered when accepting the position of CCM Chairman: “Hotuba ya Mhe. Dkt. John Pombe Magufuli, Rais wa Jamhuri ya Muungano wa Tanzania na Mwenyekiti wa Chama cha Mapinduzi Kwenye Mkutano Mkuu wa Taifa wa CCM,” Dodoma, 23 July 2016.

[6] This “instrumental use of the law” was noted by an analyst of Kenyatta’s politics in neighbouring Kenya.

Cameroon – Exploring the Anglophone Crisis: A Conversation with Felix Agbor-Balla

A political crisis continues to grip English-speaking regions of Cameroon, with no real solution on the horizon. A year ago strikes by various legal associations quickly expanded into a full-blown protest movement that encompassed teachers, students, and local trade unions. Underlying the movement are longstanding grievances and feelings of discrimination. These sentiments have been exacerbated by perceptions of misallocation of state resources and uneven representation in the highest levels of government. The government has heavily resisted this movement and responded with violence. During the most recent round of protests a reported 17 people were killed in clashes with security forces.

The solution to the crisis is not clear. Dialogue with the government has been limited, and there is no consensus on what an endpoint would look like. The Anglophone crisis involves the resolution of many longstanding issues regarding the region’s British heritage. However, fundamentally the crisis also implies some restructuring of the Cameroonian state. At one extreme are violent groups like the Ambazonia Movement, which advocate for secession. Others like the now-banned Southern Cameroons National Council (SCNC) seem to want a return to federalism, while the Cameroon Anglophone Civil Society Consortium (CACSC) wavers between calls for federalism and decentralization.

With these tensions in mind I spoke with Nkongho Felix Agbor-Balla. Agbor-Balla is a human rights lawyer and the president of the CACSC and the Fako Lawyers Association (FAKLA). On January 18, 2017 he was arrested and airlifted to Yaoundé. A 2014 anti-terror law allowed the government to try him in a military tribunal, and he remained in military detention without bail until he was released by presidential decree on August 31st. I spoke to him from London over Skype on October 23. Our conversation, which I excerpt below, revolved primarily around the roots of the Anglophone crisis and the difficulty of resolving it within the context of the Cameroonian political system.

The Roots of the Current Anglophone Crisis

The “Anglophone Problem” has historical roots in the country’s brief experiment with federalism that united former British and French territories. The specifics of unification have been covered extensively, but the federal arrangement left significant authority in the hands of the presidency. The president could appoint critical administrative figures, direct the flow of resources, and use emergency powers to curtail political expression. By 1972, both multipartyism and federalism were abolished. Since Anglophones have seen themselves as the main losers of this arrangement. This was true under first president Ahamadou Ahidjo and his successor Paul Biya.

At one level Anglophones are responding to a specific set of discriminatory government policies. For instance, Anglophone lawyers oppose the imposition of French magistrates in English-speaking areas and the absence of sufficient recognition of Common Law. Similarly, teachers and students have protested the lack of English-speaking educational and career opportunities. The issue of language and belonging looms large for Anglophones. As Agbor-Balla noted, “French is the language of oppression for many. And they [the Francophone] do not care about the Anglophone problem because they think that French is the only language you need to speak if you want to have your way.”

At another level the crisis is over the perception that Anglophones have not had an adequate seat at the political table. This is reflected in the distribution of senior appointments and economic resources. For instance, after 1972 many local economic functions were transplanted to Yaoundé, and the government invested in the Douala port rather than Limbe. Most importantly, political exclusion has instilled fear of permanent political alienation from the highest offices of power, namely the presidency. Under Ahidjo the sense was the politics tilted toward the north, while under Biya it is to the south.

The hierarchy of state positions was evident from my conversation. Most clearly, I pushed Agbor-Balla to consider whether a more empowered Prime Minister would be satisfactory. The position was reinstated in 1992 and has informally always gone to an Anglophone. Agbor-Balla claims this concession is meaningless: “Having a Prime Minister without any power! The power resides in the Presidency. What powers does the Prime Minister actually hold? We used to have a Vice President and Speaker who were second in command, but now we have a Prime Minister that does not really matter. Why can’t we have a President? Why not a Vice President?”

Resolving the Anglophone Crisis

The government has not conceded much ground. An ad hoc committee led by the Prime Minister was largely maligned by Anglophones, including Agbor-Balla: “These are the same people who are ministers, the prime minster, members of government, parliamentarians. These are people who do not recognize a problem, who have not accounted for previous government atrocities.” Similarly, a National Commission for Bilingualism and Multiculturalism was seen as cosmetic and a way to demonstrate progress to the international community.

The most significant government concessions emerged out of the March legislative session. While nothing has been implemented, there are new laws that call for the creation of a Common Law bench on the Supreme Court, reforms to the National School of Administration and Magistracy, and the recruitment of additional Anglophone magistrates. For Agbor-Balla “the Common Law bench is a step in the right direction,” but he also claims that “we have passed the stage where we say it is just the legal and education based issues to a stage where we tackle fundamental problems with the form of the state.”

And it is here that significant tensions emerge. Simply addressing questions of discrimination might not be agreeable to the movement. Agbor-Balla advocates for an inclusive constitutional conference, but his position on the outcome shifts. He maintains that decentralization and some form of truth and reconciliation can work. But, he also noted that anything short of a return to federalism would likely not satisfy Anglophones: “The CACSC believes that that federalism is a midpoint between the unionists and the independence movement. It is a win-win situation.” This involves rotating the presidency between an Anglophone and Francophone, restoring the office of the Vice Presidency, and explicit protections for minority rights.

But, this type of change is improbable given the incentives that underlie the Cameroonian political system. The presidency holds together a tenuous multiethnic coalition of entrenched elites who view the question of distribution and political control quite starkly. As Agbor-Balla notes, “They do not have the political will and do not want to lose their control over power. It is a patronage system where you have to have allegiance to them so they can manipulate you.” Indeed, Biya amended the constitution in 2008 to extend his term limits, and is likely to run again in 2018 to prevent a divisive succession crisis.

This implies that many of the underlying issues that propel the Anglophone crisis will persist. Absent a clear political strategy that changes the calculus in the presidency, it is difficult to imagine the government embarking on true reform. Biya has demonstrated a willingness to use violence and curtail discussion of federalism and even decentralization. This leaves Anglophones in a precarious situation as different voices pull the movement in various directions, some potentially violent.