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The struggle continues: Khulumani Support Group and reparations in South Africa

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By Hannah Goozee

Photo Credit: Khulumani Support Group

More than twenty years after the conclusion of the South African Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC), survivors of apartheid violence in South Africa continue to struggle for justice. On 28th October 2020, members of Khulumani Support Group, a national organization of over 100,000 members, gathered outside the Union Buildings in Pretoria demanding overdue reparations from the government. The 112 individuals held placards and banners, while singing during daytime and sleeping on the grass at night. Many of these members are elderly suffering from health conditions, and yet refused to leave until they received an answer: where are the reparations for apartheid? In this piece I reflect on time spent with Khulumani Support Group in 2019 and suggest that the failure of reparations is symptomatic of the TRC’s political origins and attention to individuals over structures. This individualization of apartheid has resulted in a continued lack of structural and material redress in South Africa.

The South African TRC is often heralded as one of the most successful transitional justice mechanisms. The product of a negotiated settlement between the National Party government and the liberation forces, principally Nelson Mandela’s African National Congress, the TRC was presented as the healing moment for South Africa. Over the course of several years, victims shared their stories of violence and victimhood in public hearings across the country. Additionally, investigations were undertaken into clandestine apartheid activities and amnesty procedures were held for perpetrators willing to disclose their wrongdoings. The TRC concluded in a seven-volume report, with the first five delivered to the President in 1998 and the last two in 2003, with recommendations for societal, political, and economic transformations. The process, as Mandela declared in the handover ceremony, signalled “the end of one season and the beginning of another”.

For members of Khulumani Support Group, the dawning of a new age was far from a reality. In 2019, I spent six months with members of the East Rand branch of the organization, many of whom were present at the protest in Pretoria. I interviewed nearly forty members for my doctorate, listening to their stories of apartheid, loss, and violence. From my very first interaction, one thing became clear – the pain continues to be lived: from unhealed wounds inflicted by apartheid forces, to lost and damaged properties, not to mention the death and disappearance of loved ones. Not only do they continue to reckon with the legacy of apartheid, but their pain has been exacerbated by governmental promises of reparations, which never materialized. Often, it was during discussions of the TRC and reparations that members became distressed, more so than when describing their apartheid experiences.

Reparations were a prominent feature of the 1995 Promotion of National Unity and Reconciliation Act, the legislation which formally established the TRC. In addition to uncovering gross violations of human rights and the granting of amnesty in exchange for full disclosure, it was also recognised that reparations would be necessary for a peaceful transition to be achieved. The Act defined reparations as including “any form of compensation, ex gratia payment, restitution” and distinguished between urgent interim reparations and a long-term reparations policy. The TRC’s Reparations and Reconciliation Committee was tasked with implementing the former, and making recommendations for the President on the latter. Crucially, the Act also provided for the creation of a President’s Fund to hold the reparations payable to victims.

While the TRC identified Urgent Interim Reparations as a priority once it was established in late 1995, governmental delays and logistical challenges meant that payments only began in 1998. By this time, much of the Commission was wrapping up its work. These interim reparations were designed for individuals identified as victims and in need of urgent support. By 2001 the process was complete, with payments made to merely 14,000 individuals, a fraction of those in need of support in the aftermath of apartheid.

The final report included recommendations for much more substantial reparations, including further urgent reparations, but also higher amounts for individual grants, symbolic reparations, community rehabilitation, and institutional reforms. The President’s Fund was identified as the means to provide the payment of individual grants, which the RRC estimated to be R23 023 per annum and to continue for six years. These grants were to be paid to victims identified by the TRC, and the relatives and dependents of victims.

However, the TRC classified only 21,000 victims during its process. The TRC defined victims narrowly: individuals or the relatives of individuals who suffered gross violations of human rights. Through individualizing victimhood, the TRC made invisible the everyday violence and abuse experienced through apartheid laws and society by millions of South Africans. Those I spoke to the East Rand emphasised the context and everyday life of apartheid; violence was structural and endemic. However, even working within the TRC’s definition of victim, Khulumani Support Group projects that reparations should be paid to 120,000 individuals or their next of kin. The group also rejects the cut-off date imposed by the TRC, which meant that only those who had self-identified as victims by 14th December 1997 are entitled to reparations. This overlooked the communities which continued to experience violence late into the 1990s, such as the East Rand. Most fundamentally, the group argues, is the continued lack of an inclusive and comprehensive reparations policy from the government.

What came of the RRC’s recommendations? In short, very little. Instead, in 2003, President Thabo Mbeki announced a one-off payment of R30 000 for victims identified by the TRC. This is about a quarter of what was recommended by the TRC, and did not include any access to medical, social, or educational services. Despite the fact that contributions from both South African and foreign governments to the President’s Fund have amassed to approximately R1 billion, no further reparations have been made.

The failure of reparations is reflective of the restrictive mandate to which the TRC was bound. Scholarly critiques of the process recognise that the mandate severely curtailed the TRC’s ability to reflect on the daily reality of apartheid, and the structural violence that was imposed through laws and regulations. The impact of this mandate translated into both its identification of victims and its lack of enforcing power. The TRC could only make recommendations, it had no powers of implementation beyond the Urgent Interim Reparations. The failure then is more a reflection of the political context in which the TRC emerged – a struggle between the outgoing apartheid government and the incoming ANC-dominated democracy. Political compromise meant that attention was deflected from the structures which protected and even entrenched white supremacy in South Africa. The system of apartheid was never questioned. Beneficiaries of this system were notably absent from the TRC debates and forums. Moreover, the focus on actionable gross violations of human rights meant that those in positions of responsibility escaped from prosecution. As scholar and political commentator Mahmood Mamdani has asked “why was the leadership of apartheid not held responsible for it? The answer is political, not ethical.” Where the TRC focused on both individual perpetrators and individual victims, it made invisible the structural violence of apartheid. The individualization detracted from the socio-economic and political drivers of violence. The continuing reluctance of the South African government to engage with and provide redress for apartheid is evidenced by their intentions to use the remainder of the President’s Fund for vague community development programmes rather than reparations.

From this neoliberal understanding of justice which dominates the international human rights agenda – that is a focus on individuals - ideas of social justice and transformation are silenced. In South Africa, the consequences continue to be felt today. Reparations is just one, albeit crucial, example. As a recent statement from Khulumani’s central organizing committee explains, “for Khulumani and for the country, reparations remain an unpaid debt. The delays have augmented the impacts of the unaddressed wounding of thousands of our people. We have an obligation going forward to finally help people to recover so that they can move forward into a life in which they can avail themselves of opportunities as they arise.” Until then, the struggle continues.

Hannah Goozee is a PhD Candidate in the Department of War Studies, researching the role of trauma in conflict and peace. Hannah holds an MA in International Conflict Studies with Distinction from King’s College London, and a First Class MA (Hons) in International Relations from the University of St Andrews. During her MA she held a research position at the International Centre for Security Analysis (ICSA), and has also undertaken research for the International Policy Centre for Inclusive Growth (IPC-IG) in Brazil.

The problems with calculating influence: the story of the Belt and Road Initiative

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By Katherine Nichols

 

Image Credit: Illustration by Andrew Rae in ‘What the World’s Emptiest International Airport Says
About China’s Influence’, New York Times, 13 September 2017.

 

‘Unfavorable views of China reach historic highs in many countries’ reported Pew Research Center in October. On top of pandemic backlash, many people are realizing that China’s rise and subsequent diplomatic initiatives are not as benign as they once appeared. But if the overwhelming majority of people view China in a negative light, why are governments so worried about Chinese influence?

China’s foreign policy strategy is a clear example of sharp power influence — ‘efforts that pierce, penetrate, or perforate the political and information environments in target countries’. President Xi Jinping’s outreach framework, the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI), hinges on a collection of investment and development projects stretching from East Asia to Europe. Through Wolf-Warrior aggressive diplomacy, however, China exerts more influence than just economic power. The intensive investment projects of BRI bought China leverage at the international scale, creating risks for the West in both national security as well as protection of democratic values.

The malign influence captured by sharp power is increasingly the modus operandi of 21st century geopolitics, but researchers have yet to decide how to make sense of it. East Asia experts and policy-makers in the West are scrambling to understand the intentions and methods of China’s global influence. The BRI is a prime example to demonstrate the various types of influence and explain why many questions remain.

The Brand: Measurement of Effect

When President Xi coined BRI in 2013, he essentially launched the branding for China’s foreign policy, drawing on inspiration from the concept of the ancient Silk Road. If we think of the BRI as a marketing tactic, much like the UK’s new Global Britain, we can use the same techniques that are applied to calculate the effectiveness of marketing campaigns to measure the influence of this foreign policy brand. Namely, we can quantify how many people were exposed and are now aware of, or better yet, understand the BRI. We can take polls to see how public perception of China and its foreign policy has changed, or look at whether countries have changed their actions in relation to China by increasing business deals through the BRI, for instance.

What researchers can’t tell you with certainty yet is whether those changes in action are a direct result of BRI. This is a deciding factor in assessing the effectiveness of an influence campaign.

Researchers such as Gary Buck recognize the importance of this question. Buck designed four-stages of Measurement of Effect, and is working on a fifth – Measurement of Context — to help us accurately discern whether influence campaigns actually have an effect. But as it stands now, any numerical descriptions for how much an influence campaign has changed the population’s behaviour is likely a ‘best guess’.

The Tools: Learning What Influences

BRI demonstrates that any word, image, action or non-action, speech, diplomatic agreement, or economic investment can be used to influence global audiences. Public and cultural diplomacy (literature, film, religion, sport, music, etc.) is usually what people think of in terms of building up a country’s brand internationally. BRI does indeed have a large cultural aspect — such as this drama series following a father-son duo promoting BRI through dance or this pop music video described as ‘Tswift meets state propaganda’— but the real nuts and bolts of BRI lie in its economic strategy.

With BRI, President Xi wasn’t just selling a brand, he was buying it. China began investing in international businesses and organisations. China’s annual foreign direct investment in the EU surged from $840 million in 2008 to $42 billion in 2017 and investment in Africa skyrocketed from $75 million in 2003 to $5.4 billion in 2018. The investments took the form of business acquisitions, infrastructure construction, and aid development projects.

Researchers can tell you for certain that China is attempting to gain global influence via economic investment. What they can’t tell you is how much influence a trade deal buys. How do you quantify the effects of a diplomatic negotiation on the attitudes and behaviours of the general public? Moreover, some of these more tangible tools of influence, like building telecoms infrastructure, have long-term, iterative effects. Researchers still lack a method to calculate influence over time.

The Intent: Language of Influence

It wasn’t long after the investment surge that the West started to realise that BRI may not be benign. China was ‘laying a debt trap’ for governments seeking to borrow investments. Developing countries more dependent on the investments from China began openly supporting China’s way of governance. In one instance, the leader of Kenya’s ruling party spoke in support of modeling his party off of China’s Communist Party. In another, thirty-seven countries signed a letter defending China’s massive detention of Uighur Muslims in Xinjiang in response to a letter from twenty-two countries condemning China’s actions. In effect, China was buying support for their value-based initiatives, most of which are problematic for the West.

When countries not as dependent on Chinese investments condemned China’s human rights record, China publicly threatened their government leaders and baited ending the economic relationship — the tactics of so-called Wolf-Warrior diplomacy. China repeatedly claimed that they were not exporting a ‘China model’ of governance, despite all appearances of just that. Most recently, however, President Xi confirmed the suspicions of international relations analysts: China’s goal was not only to grow more independent, but also to increase other countries’ dependence on China.

The other major hurdle in assessing BRI is one that blocks the track to analysing influence more generally. There is not yet a universal vocabulary with which to discuss the strategies deployed. What do we call the BRI — influence operation? Malign influence? Propaganda? There is no lingua franca of influence. Even the terms we do have definitions for, such as propaganda and influence operation, are often avoided by governments and scholars because of their negative connotations and subjectivity. There are diplomatic repercussions for accusing a country of meddling in domestic affairs, influence operations are neither inherently good nor bad, and can’t one country’s public diplomacy be another’s propaganda?

Calculating Influence

From my observations, there are three steps that researchers and policy-makers can take to more accurately identify, label, and calculate influence.

1) Agree on the terms. We can lean on existing glossaries and books that tackle the nuanced vocabulary of influence side by side. Consistency is key for public understanding, international cooperation and expert analysis of this new, complex security threat.

2) Continue committing resources to Measurement of Effect (MoE). Gary Buck, the expert previously mentioned, once likened the MoE phenomenon to that of driving the speed limit — publicly most people think it’s a good thing to do, but nobody really does it. Buck offers a system of MoE that tests early and often, taking measurements at the four key objectives of influence campaigns: message exposure, knowledge transfer, attitudinal shift, and behavioural change. It’s a strong start toward accurately analysing sharp power with considerable room for growth.

3) Accept that we cannot quantify everything. Grand strategic communications campaigns, such as BRI, are a different beast than short-term influence efforts (e.g. election campaigns). With tools ranging from press statements to business acquisitions, it may not be possible to quantify how much influence each has on global populations. When the amount of influence is incalculable, we should devote more effort to studying the manner of influence. We can use tools such as the Taxonomy of Influence Strategies to provide a language for influence manner and generate influence profiles (e.g. level of risk, cooperation, and agitation). By understanding how a country influences, we can better understand how to respond.

There are multiple hurdles facing influence measurement, but we cannot manage what we cannot measure. It’s time we face the elephant in the room and start driving the speed limit.

 

Katherine recently completed her MA in Strategic Communications from the Department of War Studies, King’s College London. Her research focuses on the arts of influence and diplomacy. You can find her on Twitter @kat_nichols_

Militarization and Accountability on the United States-Mexico Border

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By Carly Greenfield

28 December 2018

A U.S. Border Patrol agent stands near a section of the U.S.- Mexico border fence while on patrol in La Joya, Texas. (John Moore/Getty Images)

 

On 21 November, a jury in Arizona found Border Patrol Agent Lonnie Swartz not guilty in the involuntary manslaughter of José Antonio Elena Rodríguez, a Mexican teenager shot and killed by Swartz in October of 2012. Swartz fired from the United States side of the border in Nogales, Arizona, into Nogales, Mexico, killing 16-year-old Elena Rodríguez. Elena Rodríguez is not the first teenager to be killed by U.S. law enforcement along the border; a similar situation occurred with another Mexican national, 15-year-old Sergio Hernández Guereca. When he was killed in 2010, however, his killing did not result in a lawsuit. Both cases raise questions surrounding authority in border zones.

While the majority of shootings along the border have been by U.S. Customs and Border Protection (CBP) agents, the military has also been involved in a similar incident. The killing of 18-year-old U.S. citizen Esequiel Hernández by U.S. marines deployed to the border in 1997, which resulted in no indictments for the marines involved, remains a blight on military involvement along the border. As active-duty troops are set to be deployed through the new year, the decades old case continues to inform military engagement in the region. The Elena Rodríguez case is not isolated, and the lack of clarity over who is responsible to whom in a national and joint-authority international space like the U.S.-Mexico border, now with both law enforcement and military bodies present, should bring considerable disquietude.

The role of the military on the border

In the wake of President Trump’s deployment of over 5,000 active-duty troops to the U.S.-Mexico border at the end of October, many pundits and commentators started mulling over the legality of the order in reference to the Posse Comitatus Act of 1878. This act is a misunderstood and largely non-enforced doctrine that enshrines, in the minds of many Americans, the separation between military and law-enforcement roles within U.S. territory.[i] The act itself, however, has many exceptions, and a 1981 reform further restricted its application. For starters, the law initially only applied to the Army, as it was created as a means to remove the Army from its role in the post-Reconstruction South.[ii] A 1956 reform brought the Air Force into the act, and a 1992 Department of Defense regulation folded in the Navy and the Marine Corps.[iii] The Posse Comitatus Act still includes allowances for National Guard forces operating under state authority, the role of the Coast Guard in peace time (through which the Navy can play a support role without breaching the Posse Comitatus act) or the Presidential power to use troops pursuant to subduing domestic violence.[iv] All of this to say Posse Comitatus has so many holes, and so few court cases holding up its authority, that it has had little influence on the use of the military in the interior.

The reform in 1981, called the Military Cooperation with Law Enforcement Officials Act, was in many ways a death knell for the Posse Comitatus Act as it relates to border security.[v] The 1981 act created space for the military to cooperate with law enforcement as it related to the growing ‘War on Drugs.’ This quickly ballooned into aiding enforcement or supplying intelligence as it relates to immigration and customs offenses.[vi]

However, the myth persists that this act keeps the military from taking part in law enforcement roles like border security management and enforcement. A New York Times piece ran last month concluded that ‘[t]he Posse Comitatus Act, a Reconstruction-era law, prevents active-duty troops from engaging in law enforcement activities within the United States.’ This is patently false — or else the 1997 killing of Esequiel Hernández by active-duty marines, sent to patrol the border as part of an anti-narcotics mission, would have raised further consequences past the shooting of an American. The U.S. military has the legal and historical precedent to support law enforcement missions on the U.S.-Mexico border. The larger query is whether or not these deployments are effective; due to the 1997 case, most troops are unarmed and aid in constructing barriers. The purpose of their current deployment on the border, then, remains in question, as they are instructed not to come into contact with migrants or patrol with Border Patrol agents. Journalists have noted that while troops were rapidly deployed prior to the midterm elections in ‘Operation Faithful Patriot,’ the name surreptitiously changed to the much less inflammatory ‘border support’ post-election, reinforcing critics claims of performed militarization and misuse of the military. The politically fraught nature of their presence contributes to a hyper-charged environment along the border, which adds to the misconception of a crisis on the U.S.-Mexico border. This ‘crisis’ perception makes violence, including fatalities, all the more likely, and easier to justify.

The U.S.-Mexico border as a non-combat zone

Active duty troops currently deployed on the U.S.-Mexico border are not receiving combat pay as they are not taking part in a combat mission. As mentioned, the rules of engagement for the deployed troops have resulted in most soldiers and marines not carrying weapons and instead taking part primarily in constructing additional security barriers. Yet the border continues to be militarized even without armed, active military missions. Of the nearly 20,000 border patrol agents employed in fiscal year 2017, more than 16,000 served on the southern border,[vii] compared to fewer than 5,000 agents in the entire agency in 1992.[viii] Notwithstanding, CBP is a civilian law enforcement agency, meaning they are meant to be held to account in the U.S. civilian court system, which handles cases involving U.S. agents on U.S. land. This is complicated when dealing with the area between the U.S. and Mexican fences and the distance a bullet can travel — namely, across a border.

The ramifications of an agency accountable to the U.S. government shooting and killing non-nationals on non-U.S. territory, then, remain unclear. In June 2017, the U.S. Supreme Court dismissed the case of Sergio Hernández Guereca, the Mexican 15-year-old killed on Mexican territory by a border patrol agent, upholding the U.S. Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals decision that the teenager’s parents did not have a right to pursue the case in U.S. courts.[ix] This contrasts with the decision made in the case of Elena Rodríguez, where the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals held that Elena Rodríguez’s mother did have the right to sue. The conflicting decisions create an uneven application of the law at the border, one that recognizes U.S. responsibility in some cases and not others.

Rights of non-Americans on non-American soil

In the oral arguments made in Hernández Guereca’s case before the Supreme Court in February 2017, the petitioners’ lawyer Robert Hilliard claimed that the case was meant to:

‘(…) address the ongoing problem along the southwest border that has resulted in at least ten cross-border shootings and six Mexican national deaths. And every time the Constitution, according to the government, turns off at the border, even though all the conduct happens in the United States.’[x]

The justices, however, were skeptical of extending Constitutional rights to someone shot and killed on non-U.S. soil as it would cloud understanding over who has access to Constitutional protections.[xi] The conversation reached into hypotheticals comparing the space between the U.S. and Mexico border fences to Guantanamo Bay, the piloting of a drone strike from U.S. soil, or whether the case would be distinct if a military officer had shot and killed Hernández Guereca. This reveals the military and foreign policy implications for border shooting decisions, even if CBP is officially a civilian law enforcement agency. Ultimately, with Hernández Guereca’s case dismissed, the uneven application of the law stands.

It should also be noted that the agent involved was charged in Mexico for Hernández Guereca’s death — yet the U.S. government refused to extradite him, even with extradition agreements in place between the U.S. and Mexico.[xii]

So if the Constitution does not apply beyond U.S. international borders, and the U.S. government refuses to extradite border patrol agents charged in Mexico for the shootings, then what options do victims’ families in Mexico have to access a fair day in court? In the current system, very few.

Law enforcement accountability

The implications for allowing a case against border patrol agents into U.S. courts reach past border enforcement and risk granting victims of U.S. military missions abroad access to Constitutional rights in lands far beyond U.S. control. Still, the militarization of the border does not aid in preventing such cases— there continue to be border deaths with little recourse for border patrol agents. Like in other parts of the United States, calls for law enforcement accountability are occurring along the border, too. But since the population in question is primarily non-American and border patrol agents oftentimes work in barren areas with few possible witnesses, change is slow. The route to justice continues to be hazy as appeals drag on and cases are unable to move forward in Mexico.

What develops on the border has significance beyond the border — for military missions, Constitutional rights, and U.S.-Mexico relations. The dynamics of the U.S.-Mexico border raise large questions around how militarization contributes to violence and a lack of accountability for border patrol agents. When President Trump and the government espouse unfounded levels of fear around border work, agents are more likely to respond to incidences lethally and then be protected from prosecution by their government. The current dynamics should remind Americans that the armed forces are not required to militarize a space, and that tragic situations ensue on the border even when media attention is not focused on it. With President Trump escalating the rhetoric and looking to recruit more border patrol agents, the shared U.S.-Mexico border will likely become deadlier and hold less consequence for those who patrol it.

Carly Greenfield is a Dual Degree masters candidate between Sciences Po and the London School of Economics, currently studying international security at Sciences Po. She completed her BA in International Relations at King’s College London and is a former BA Representative for Strife. Her research focuses on securitization, migration, and the conceptualization of borders, particularly in the Americas. You can follow her on Twitter @carlygreenpeel.

Notes:

[i] Lindsey P. Cohn, “Come What May,” Bombshell, Podcast Audio, 20 November 2018: https://warontherocks.com/2018/11/bombshell-come-what-may/.

[ii] Charles Doyle, “The Posse Comitatus Act and Related Matters: The Use of the Military to Execute Civilian Law,” Congressional Research Service, (1 June 2000).

[iii] Eric V. Larson and John E. Peters, “Appendix D: Overview of the Posse Comitatus Act,” from Preparing the U.S. Army for Homeland Security, (2001): RAND Corporation.

[iv] Nathan Canestaro, “Homeland Defense: Another Nail in the Coffin for Posse Comitatus,” Washington University Journal of Law & Policy Vol. 12, (January 2003).

[v] Paul Jackson Rice, “New Laws and Insights Encircle the Posse Comitatus Act,” Individual Study Project, U.S. Army War College, (26 May 1983).

[vi] Richter H. Moore, “Posse Comitatus revisited: The use of the military in civil law enforcement,” Journal of Criminal Justice Vol. 15, (1987).

[vii] United States Border Patrol “Border Patrol Agent Nationwide Staffing by Fiscal Year,” Customs and Border Protection, (2017).

[viii] Christine Stenglein, “Struggling to hang on to 20K officers, Border Patrol looks to hire 5K more,” Brookings Institution, (7 July 2017): https://www.brookings.edu/blog/fixgov/2017/07/07/struggling-to-hang-on-to-20k-officers-border-patrol-looks-to-hire-5k-more/.

[ix] U.S. Supreme Court, “582 U. S. Hernandez v. Mesa,” Slip Opinion (2017).

[x] U.S. Supreme Court, “No.15-118 Hernandez v. Mesa,” Oral Arguments (2017).

[xi] Ibid.

[xii] “Extradition Treaty Between the United States of America and the United Mexican States,” (25 January 1980).

Image source: http://www.powerhousebooks.com/books/undocumented-immigration-and-the-militarization-of-the-u-s-mexico-border/

A Man’s World: Masculinity in International Politics

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By Eve Gleeson

7 December 2018

There is a gender gap in having your voice heard (and listened to) in international relations. (Image credit: Ellen Weinstein for Politico)

International politics is a man’s world. The practice of international relations, defined by constant efforts to identify and solve bilateral, multilateral, and global issues, has historically been guided by initiatives reflective of the experiences, interests, and characteristics of Western hegemonic masculinity.

Besides the practice itself, membership and leadership ranging from research institutions like The Brookings Institute and news outlets such as The Economist to governance bodies like the African Union are evidence of unequal gender representation that permeates through the field. Perhaps less obvious is the masculine nature of the content and character of such organisations and their traditional approach to addressing issues spanning from political economy to security and conflict.

States as a reflection of the patriarchy

There are parallels between key topics in the field of international relations and the facets of masculine culture, such as power, hegemony, conflict and weapons development, colonialism, and the global economy. A popular theory argued by scholars across the board is that states themselves are an expression of patriarchal power; ‘Leadership itself is monolithic, hierarchical and violent,’ argues John Hoffman.[1] The idea of concentrating power in the hands of one person, regardless of gender, so that this individual may execute dominance over the all other actors is itself a masculine concept based on hegemonic masculinity, a characteristic that glorifies the essence of ‘manhood’ as physical power, heterosexuality, elitism, and sexual dominance.[2]

These ‘manly’ states have been built by men around the interests of men. This is evident especially in older states, whose political structures were built when women had limited rights as citizens. From the beginning of organised statehood, a state was constructed and then led by a ‘hegemon.’ According to realists like John Mearsheimer, a hegemon is a nation-state at the pinnacle of security from external threats and is idealised for its capacity to manipulate actors both within and beyond the level of the state (for example, the United States is thought of as the current hegemon, following Great Britain’s decline after the Second World War. Many scholars believe China will be next).[3] This hegemon dictates the successes or failures of its subordinates through diplomatic maneuvers coupled with overbearing military and economic power, as Alfred Mahan discusses in his history of naval warfare.[4] The idolisation of this kind of power reflects the masculinity of the international community, as each state desires to rise high enough to dictate the proceedings of every state functioning below itself.

The gender of war

War, violence, and the military are archetypically masculine. The notion of the ideal man is equated to the ideal soldier– someone whose belligerence and physical prowess defines manhood.[5] In his case study on the US Navy, Frank Barrett emphasises the conflation of masculine identity with ‘autonomy and risk taking’, ‘perseverance and endurance’, and ‘technical rationality’ among US Naval officers.[6] While service in the military is applauded as a demonstration of defending one’s country, long term non-violent peacebuilding efforts geared toward sustainable progress are not equally as praised as exhibitions of courage, valour, or patriotism. The value of these efforts to their nation is indisputable, though doing so as a force preserving and enforcing peace rather than quelling and inciting violence is at odds with the masculine conception of a state’s power.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, weapons themselves are gendered to reflect traditional features of femininity and masculinity. Catastrophic weapons like nuclear bombs and warheads have historically been related to masculine characteristics. Carol Cohn, a feminist international theory icon and scholar in conflict and security, details that missiles carrying a nuclear payload are often spoken of in reference to ‘deep penetration’, ‘thrust to weight ratios’, and ‘vertical erector launchers’. Sexualising a weapon with phallic imagery suggests this decisive power that a weapon possesses.[7] The conviction that military capacity is a harbinger of a state’s power signals the primacy of ‘maleness’ in the social order, while an abundance of research suggests a state’s economic stability to be contingent on other factors such as quality of education and gender equality.[8]

Security itself is a male-dominated field that concerns topics from military occupation and conflict to trade and energy — all of which are masculinised concepts that have preserved the technical jargon which insulates the field from a more humanistic narrative. Carol Cohn argues that by presenting information in a logical format using coded language, such as complex terminology and acronyms, harsh material is ‘softened’. One of her examples was a term applied to a type of bomb whose destructive explosive power destroyed the cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945. This particular type of weapon is referred to as a ‘clean bomb’, referring to its lack of lingering radiation effects. This terminology avoids the emotional fallout associated with admitting plans for ‘mass murder, mangled bodies, and unspeakable human suffering.’[9] The vernacular used by security and defense intellectuals shows the exclusive and inaccessible nature of the content. When the conversation is driven by euphemisms, it’s easy to downplay the gravity of military mobilisations and hard to recognize the dynamic and intersectional nature of conflict.

Security as a women’s issue

Additionally, a state’s quality of security has been linked with women’s security; as gender equality improves (e.g. through political representation or civil rights), the security of the state improves. This results from increased productivity in multiple economic sectors, elections that provide gender-diverse political representation, and the safety and security of more demographics.[10] The way women are affected by insecurity may not be addressed by typical ‘malestream’ approaches to security issues, as their insecurity results from their roles in society which often differ from roles traditionally taken by men, as the textile, education, and social work industries indicate. These industries are often overlooked and even disregarded in male-dominated international political discussion. This gendered hierarchy exacerbates insecurity for women, who, in most states, make up half a state’s population and whose safety is contingent upon conscious efforts by the state.

The ingrained masculinity of this field can be distinguished through trends of colonialism and military occupation that have been plagued with the sexual exploitation of native women in colonised and occupied countries. Feminist international relations scholar Cynthia Enloe details this in her review of American troops in the Philippines in the 1980s and their troubling relationship with native women.[11] Colonialism, a consequence of a strong state’s entitlement to “invade” or “penetrate” an unsuspecting weaker state, channels norms of masculine sexual aggression through the idea that the protector or conqueror can rightfully exploit the feminine, or feminised, object.[12]

Women in the economy

The market and economy also reflect male-dominated spaces. The economy is propelled by productivity in labour and employment, but scholars often fail to consider how the exclusion of women from the labour market and the fields of work where female workers are most often exploited. The textile industry, on which many multinational corporations rely, has been criticized for labour exploitation, as substantiated with incidents at Nestlé, Nike and Coca-Cola. Abuse runs rampant through Bangladesh’s garment industry, where women of all ages and socioeconomic classes are exploited.[13] Established theories of economics have disregarded how women’s limited political freedoms, labour rights, and access to education stifle economic growth, especially since the study of economics began far before women contributed to economic prosperity. The field is also discussed by professionals who use structured arguments of supply and demand, which are undoubtedly critical, though a qualitative understanding of global economics considering the foundations of the marketplace reveal how traditional gender roles, like women in informal economic positions such as child care professionals and domestic workers, impact the economy.[14]

By excluding the female perspective on important issues like security, the concerns of which are experienced differently by women than men, thought-leaders perpetuate an approach to problem-solving that focuses on more established approaches to international challenges that idealize power, subjugation, aggression, conquest, autonomy, and hegemony. Diplomacy, a practice among states to negotiate contrasting national interests to reach common goals, can be complicated by this illustration of hegemonic masculinity. A political ‘strongman’ has come to describe authoritarian political leaders like Donald Trump and Vladimir Putin whose leadership style derives from resistance to external suggestions, hostility towards opponents, and rejection of institutional authority. This is a culture of a ‘my way or the highway’ type modern diplomacy, indicating a hesitation toward collaborative or intersectional approaches, and resistance toward making concessions for fear of emasculation. However, intersectionality and a diversity of contributions to problem­-solving can create solutions that are more dynamic, amenable, and responsive to unpredictable environments.

From the outside looking in, female professionals in international politics recognise the necessity for diverse opinions on issues, as Michèle Flournoy emphasised in an interview with Susan B. Glasser — ‘the more diverse the group around the table making decisions, the better the performance of the organization and the better the quality of the decision-making.’ As victims of exclusion from a system that determines how to mediate global issues, women are in a special position to criticize how their approach to and involvement with international politics differs from the established ways, and how it could improve the efficiency of the system. In reality, global issues impact both men and women, and often in very different ways. The tendency for discussion on these issues to be led by men — in systems constructed by men, that are reflective of the characteristics of men — makes it so that these approaches often fail to consider women’s issues and instead idolise masculine solutions.

Eve Gleeson is a master’s student in International Relations at the Department of War Studies, King’s College London, as well as the Communications Manager of Strife. Her courses focus on security challenges in the evolving global context, including cyber threats, nuclear and biological programs, and security in new states. Eve holds a BA in International Studies with a focus on conflict and security from Emory University in Atlanta, Georgia, USA. You can find her on LinkedIn and on Twitter @evegleeson_.

Notes:

[1]Hoffman, John. “Patriarchy, Sovereignty and Realism.” Gender and Sovereignty: Feminism, the State and International Relations, Palgrave, 2001, p. 9.

[2] Connell, R. W., and James W. Messerschmidt. “Hegemonic Masculinity.” Gender & Society, vol. 19, no. 6, 2005, pp. 829–859. SAGE, doi:10.1177/0891243205278639.

[3] Mearsheimer, John J. The Tragedy of Great Power Politics. W.W. Norton & Company, 2014

[4] Mahan, Alfred Thayer. The Influence of Sea Power upon History: 1660-1783. Dodo Press, 2009

[5] Mishkind, Marc E., et al. “The Embodiment of Masculinity.” American Behavioral Scientist, vol. 29, no. 5, 1986, pp. 545–562., doi:10.1177/000276486029005004.

[6] Barrett, Frank J. “The Organizational Construction of Hegemonic Masculinity: The Case of the US Navy.”Gender, Work & Organization, vol. 3, no. 3, July 1996, pp. 129–142., doi:10.1111/14680432.00011.

[7] Cohn, Carol. “Sex and Death in the Rational World of Defense Intellectuals.” Signs: Journal of Women in Culture and Society, vol. 12, no. 4, 1987, pp. 687–718. JSTOR, doi:10.1086/494362.

[8] Global Gender Gap Report 2015: The Case for Gender Equality.” World Economic Forum, 2016, reports.weforum.org/globalgendergapreport2015/thecaseforgenderequality/.

[9] Cohn, “Sex and Death” p. 696

[10] Hudson, Valerie M., et al. “The Heart of the Matter: The Security of Women and the Security of States.” International Security, vol. 33, no. 3, 2008, pp. 7–45. MIT.

[11] Enloe, Cynthia H. Bananas, Beaches and Bases: Making Feminist Sense of International Politics. University of California Press, 2014.

[12] Youngs, Gillian. “Feminist International Relations: a Contradiction in Terms? Or: Why Women and Gender Are Essential to Understanding the World We Live in *.” International Affairs, vol. 80, no. 1, 2004, pp. 76., doi:10.1111/j.14682346.2004.00367.x.

[13] Ahmed, Fauzia Erfan. “The Rise of the Bangladesh Garment Industry: Globalization, Women Workers, and Voice.”NWSA Journal, vol. 16, no. 2, 2004, pp. 34–45., doi:10.1353/nwsa.2004.0042.

[14] Hochschild, Arlie, and Barbara Ehrenreich. Global Woman: Nannies, Maids and Sex Workers in the New Economy. Owl, 2004.

Image source: https://www.politico.com/interactives/2017/women-rule-politics-graphic/

Bolsonaro Leads Brazil Into A Turbulent Future

by

By Felipe Leal Albuquerque

13 November 2018

President-Elect Jair Bolsonaro promises to bring grand changes to Brazil. (Image credit: Janine Moraes)

 

Nearly two weeks after winning more than 55 percent of the vote, Jair Bolsonaro, the first extreme-right politician elected to the presidency in Brazil, vows to promote sweeping changes. Supported by around 57 million voters, the histrionic former Army captain showcased himself as an outsider while combining virulent and nationalistic discourses. Even before taking office, he manoeuvred with the current Michel Temer’s administration (2016-2018) to advance economic reforms and to promote conservative views in the name of ‘family values.’ His path will necessarily be turbulent.

Driving factors

How did an ultra-conservative, unnoticed congressman who defended the dictatorship come to be president of South America’s largest country? His election is a by-product of five main factors.

First, Brazil’s economy is painfully recovering from its worst recession, which is directly related to the economic errors made during the presidency of Dilma Rousseff (2011-2016) and her centre-left Worker’s Party (PT). Brazil’s GDP fell 3.5 percent in 2015 and 3.6 percent in 2016, creating social unrest and damaging PT’s image, later ending in Rousseff’s impeachment. The next year saw a sluggish economic recovery of one percent, which was not able to compensate for the 12.5 million unemployed, many of them now falling back under the poverty line.

Second, violence is endemic. The daily death toll tops Syria, with nearly 64 thousand murders and 60 thousand cases of rape recorded in 2017. In the same period, Brazil’s police killed around 14 people every day, and 385 policemen died. As far as Brazil promotes itself as a “cordial” country, it is plagued by rampant violence, especially against poor, young, black men and minorities, not to mention gender-motivated violence.

Third, the country is engulfed in spiralling corruption, which led to the imprisonment of former president Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva (2003-2010), government officials, leaders of political parties and businessmen alike. Temer and congressmen in power might come next.

Fourth, progressive agendas related to LBGT+ rights, reproductive rights and affirmative action in higher education were associated with left and centre-left parties. These advancements encountered fierce opposition, namely amongst religious groups. In 2010, around 64 percent of the country’s population was declared Catholic and 27 percent evangelical. Currently, being elected in Brazil is impossible without the support of the highly engaged evangelical communities, which now control parliamentarian seats and media outlets. In the recent election, two other candidates besides Bolsonaro declared support for evangelical beliefs.

Fifth, traditional political parties such as the PT and the centre-right Social Democratic Party (PSDB), which disputed Brazil’s presidency since 1994, could not reinvent campaigning strategies, compose competitive campaigns and properly make use of social media. The PT did not reckon past mistakes and was over reliant on Lula’s ability to transfer votes to Fernando Haddad, Bolsonaro’s main adversary. Plagued by internal rivalries and boycotting a possible centre-left coalition, the party ended up second, but still maintained prevalence over Brazil’s Northeast region and elected the largest number of seats in the lower house of the National Congress. The PSDB was also tainted by corruption scandals and disputes between older and younger party members, not being able to cultivate its position as the ‘anti-PT’ and achieving only 4.7 percent of the votes.

Together, economic recession, corruption scandals, mounting violence, the so-called ‘threats’ to family values, and the crisis of traditional parties formed the conditions explaining the Bolsonaro phenomenon. Adding to that, he was critically injured after being stabbed, which led him to avoid televised debates, thereby preventing other candidates from challenging his views directly. Rightly interpreting and fuelling popular dissatisfaction against the PT, and what he and his supporters classified as an array of ‘communists’ ranging from musician Roger Waters to political scientist Francis Fukuyama and the Pope, Bolsonaro capitalised upon the feelings of an impatient and angry population. Portraying himself as an anti-establishment candidate, he upheld patriotic slogans tempered with violent discourses, promising to jail or exile rivals.

‘Strongman diplomacy’

Bolsonaro’s election comes in a moment when strongmen are concentrating power. Together with that, multilateralism and the landmarks of the ‘liberal’ global order are treated as a scapegoat, much for their distributional costs, rising inequality and ‘decaying’ values. It is not by accident that his government pledges to emphasise bilateral relations, to move away from the Paris Agreement and to by-pass the rules and norms stemming from the United Nations, which he called a gathering of communists.

Much of that reasoning has to do with reverting PT’s foreign policy, which, Bolsonaro argues, gave undesired attention to South-South cooperation and used public funds to finance countries like Venezuela and Cuba. Indeed, in the first speech after being elected he promised to ‘liberate’ the ministry of External Affairs from an ‘ideological’ orientation. Achieving so, in his views, involves prioritising relations with countries such as the United States, Italy, and Israel, to which he promised relocating Brazil’s embassy from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem and to review the status of a Palestinian diplomatic legacy in Brasília. His Trump-like move is short-sighted and has already caused the suspension, by the Egyptian government, of an official visit of Brazil’s current minister of external relations. It is also expected to spark criticism from poultry importing Arab markets with which Brazil has trade surpluses.

Regarding Brazil’s immediate region, Paulo Guedes affirmed that Mercosur and Argentina ‘will not be a priority.’ In his view, the economic bloc is too restrictive, harming Brazil’s chances of expanding extra-regional trade ties. Moreover, moribund Unasur is seen as a forum under the influence of Venezuela, with whom relations are already unstable. In contrary, Bolsonaro expects to promote relations with Chile.

Dialogue with China, Brazil’s biggest trading partner, is messy. In March, Bolsonaro visited Taiwan. During the campaign, he declared that the Chinese are “buying Brazil”, which led two Chinese newspapers, China Daily and Global Times, to harshly question Bolsonaro’s intentions and to affirm that his actions can cost Brazil a ‘great deal.’ Later on, he met with Chinese representatives to say that bilateral trade should increase during his government.

Not even in power, president-elect Bolsonaro is already harming Brazil’s democracy and the country’s image abroad. The question now is how much change he will be able to imprint.

Can he govern?

Bolsonaro is expected to face a paralysing fiscal scenario, a divided but vocal opposition, and one of the most fragmented lower houses in the world. Of a total of 35 political parties, 30 have at least one chair at the lower house and 21 at the senate, greatly complicating governability. His until then insignificant Social Liberal Party (PSL), however, grew from eight seats to 52, ranking second. It is expected to surpass the PT, as a ‘performance clause’ to control fragmentation was established, allowing shifts in party membership without punishment. Furthermore, Brazil’s political compass moved towards the right, which made moderate political parties – namely the PSDB and Temer’s Brazilian Democratic Movement (MDB) – lose influence. Bolsonaro is expected to receive support from the BBB (bullets, beef, bible) caucus. That configuration can grant him enough backing even to approve constitutional amendments.

Up to now, his administration will be based on four axes, embodied by key appointees: (i) the military, represented by Vice-President General Hamilton Mourão and minister of Defence General Augusto Heleno; (ii) the Congress, guided by his future chief of staff, Congressman Onyx Lorenzoni, who is expected to accommodate demands from the BBB caucus; (iii) free market enthusiasts directed by his “super minister” and top financial advisor Paulo Guedes; and (iv) the judiciary and his second minister with unbridled powers, Judge Sergio Moro who helped to jail Lula and who is expected to tackle any wrongdoings in Bolsonaro’s political base.

In the best but unlikely scenario, Bolsonaro would be able to adjust the preferences of these different groupings, combining market reforms and anti-corruption rhetoric with a conservative, religious-like, family agenda. The crusade against some media outlets would continue and criticisms would be labelled fake news. Adding to that, he would relax gun laws, lower age of criminal responsibility and approve measures against indigenous territories and the environmental sector. He would proceed with reforms in the educational sector, favouring distance learning, and push changes in the pension system. In this situation, Bolsonaro would face street protests from the opposition. If deadlock exists and measures are postponed, he would infuriate some of his own voters and instability would mount.

A second and more likely scenario occurs with Bolsonaro not being able to handle his support base. His coalition is fragile and composed by groups with clashing interests. Two consequences can derive from that. First, congressmen counter Bolsonaro, impeding his ability to govern, as happened with Rousseff. Second, Bolsonaro attempts to circumvent Congress by heavily relying on his presidential decree authority and focusing on a minimalistic agenda that might appease his supporters.

In either case, he is likely to continue upholding radical, authoritarian-like discourses, calling voters to show public support and pressuring the media, the judiciary, and the political system. In a highly polarised political landscape with continued fears surrounding a sluggish economy, these discourses could spur increased violence, perhaps so much so that the military would be required to act.

Felipe Leal Albuquerque is a Marie Curie Fellow at the Institute of Social Sciences of the University of Lisbon. You can follow him on Twitter @leal and on Academia.edu.

Image source: https://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ficheiro:Jair_Bolsonaro_na_c%C3%A2mara_sobre_a_comiss%C3%A3o_da_verdade.jpg