Saturday, April 23, 2011
African revolution > on “passive resistance” and the shape of things to come
Africa Works
After he lost the election for Uganda president to Yoweri Museveni, Kizza Besigye and I sat together in his party's offices, discussing why, if the election was illegally stolen from him by his opponent's fraud, would not Besigye call his supporters to go into the streets and protest these violations? After all, Museveni, having begun his political career as a savior and redeemer of the "pearl of Africa," was now nakedly and brazenly imposing his autocratic decisions on a great and dignified African nation, which is also home to one of the most dynamic economies and societies in the sub-Saharan.
I had come to Besigye's office that day warily, concerned that I was being followed by state security agents and anxious that they might burst into our meeting room at any moment. Disciplined and dedicated, Besigye spoke passionately about the importance of elections in Uganda and the immense frustration that he and his supporters felt over once more being robbed of victory. After respectfully listening to Besigye's complaints, I asked firmly and clearly why he did not ask his followers to take to the streets and passively resist Museveni's reign?
"I cannot put my people at risk," Besigye said. "I cannot have them brutalized and hurt."
And so, in Kampala, where Besigye's supporters are most numerous, there were no demonstrations, no passive resistance of the kind being witnessed all around the world.
My meeting with Besigye occured in 2006, more than five years ago. In February, Besigye once again lost an election to Museveni, giving him another five-year term in a presidency that has run already more than 30 years. Having been robbed again in his view, Besigye finally did take to the streets. Earlier this month, hundreds of supporters — a large political demo by the standards of repressive Uganda — took to Kampala's streets (and the streets of other Ugandan cities), and were met with predictable force.
Besigye was shot in the hand, and hospitalized briefly. He plans more marches, though for now he must direct any civil disobedience actions from a jail cell.
The protests seem ill-timed. They should have come before the national election, not afterwards. Besigye is brave and consistent in his criticisms of Museveni's cronyism, and excessive spending on military equipment. Yet he lacks strong tactical instincts and his failure to galvanize the diverse opponents of Museveni into a overwhelming political movement indicates that perhaps the time has come for his to step aside and allow a younger, more creative opposition leader to tackle the enormous task of forcing Museveni from power.
With civil protests throughout the Middle East, and in North Africa, the question of why no similar protests have emerged in the sub-Saharan is important. Uganda provides perhaps the most fertile ground for such protests, because of Museveni's brazen behavior, his long tenure and the strength and diversity of Uganda's civil society. And yet nothing out of Egypt or Yemen or Bahrain has happened in Uganda. And neither have sustained protests erupted in Cameroon or Zimbabwe, two countries whose political leaders (Biya and Mugabe) surely deserve immediate ejection from power. The simplest explanation is that ordinary people in these countries have been thoroughly demoralized about the possibilities for lawful, rational political change. Pluralistic alternatives, such as "rotating" presidents among sub-national power blocs, seemingly offer no better outcomes: witness the presidential election this month in Nigeria, where an incumbent won by a wide margin, igniting regional unrest that seems likely to persist for months, if not years.
For scholars of African politics, of which there are many excellent ones, the deeper answers are familiar and durable. Yet the great leap forward that appears to have happened in the political arenas in North Africa and the Middle East, in which the rising generation is engaged in political protest and reform mobilizations in novel ways, had no apparent precedents either. The time for African reformer is not now. But the question can no longer be denied: if not now, then when? The clock on Africa's repressive rulers is ticking louder; with roughly 50 percent of black Africans under the age of 25, African politics is condemned to experience a revolution. If not soon, then later.
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The new impact evaluation blog to read
Chris Blattman
Here you go. The authors are Berk Ozler, David McKenzie, Jed Friedman, and Markus Goldstein, in order of how good looking they are. (But yes, note that I did not tell you whether the order is ascending or descending.)
They are some of my favorite development economists. The blog records their musings on many matters, from policy to field work to technical issues. Here is David on how to get a lot of learning out of a few firms, Berk on stuff you can't randomize, Jed on small sample studies, and Markus being less than encouraging.
And there are guest bloggers. Here are the Deans of development (Karlan and Yang) advising students on how to engage with an NGO.
I was sadly unable to add to the guest blog, mainly because it is taking everything within my power not to post baby pictures three times a day. But see my earlier advice to students interested in quantitative field research in the field.
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Child carers are the unsung heroes of Africa | Morten Skovdal
Global development news, comment and analysis | guardian.co.uk
African children who care for parents with Aids are not passive victims or burdens to their families. They are resourceful and play a key role in the response to the Aids epidemic
Over the past decade, many countries in sub-Saharan Africa have seen HIV incidence fall by more than 25%, and almost 40% of those eligible for treatment are now able to access life-saving medicines. However, despite this progress, millions of children throughout the region remain at the frontline, responding to the devastating impact of Aids by caring for the adults in their lives.
Although there are no statistics to document the extent of young carers in sub-Saharan Africa, a growing body of research suggests that children living in households affected by Aids take on significant caring roles and responsibilities as their parents slowly succumb, or as their grandparents age.
I met 15-year-old Carolyn in the Bondo District of western Kenya, while studying the coping strategies of children. Carolyn became a carer at the age of seven, when she helped her mother care for her bedridden father, died a year later. It was not long before Carolyn's mother started to get sick, and at the age of 10 Carolyn was the primary carer of her mother and little sister.
Carolyn did the cooking and spoon-fed her mother. She washed and massaged her, clothed her, helped her to the toilet and administered medication. In addition to her nursing care, Carolyn kept the household running by growing vegetables in the garden, fetching water from the local pond and seeking support from neighbours. She managed to stay in school during most of her time as a carer.
However, she had to drop out of school temporarily when her mother was admitted to hospital. Due to a shortage of nursing staff, Carolyn had to stay with her mother in the hospital. Her mother died in hospital, and she and her sister moved in with her grandmother, who, because of old age, also needed care and support. Carolyn cared for her grandmother for two years, after which she moved in with her aunt who now acts as a foster parent to and her sister.
Carolyn's story is far from unique. Her experiences are representative of so many boys and girls living in Aids-affected communities in Africa. Although community health workers may come and visit people with Aids once or twice a week, it is the children of the household, often with support from neighbours or extended family members, who provide care on a daily basis.
It is very easy to get alarmed by stories like Carolyn's. Nevertheless, I and other researchers from the Institute of Social Psychology at the London School of Economics and WVP Kenya, a local NGO in western Kenya, have found that children like Carolyn cope remarkably well despite the hardships they may encounter.
Using methods to involve children in the research process – such as photography, drawing and essay writing – we found that many young carers have the ability to mobilise social resources quite effectively, not only to get help from neighbours, church groups, friends and extended family, but also to negotiate access to assets such as land for farming, fruit trees, poultry and other income-generating resources.
Many of the children also identify the benefits of being a young carer and take great pride in their emotional maturity and the life skills they gain through their caring. They value the close and loving relationships that develop between them and the people they care for, and describe themselves as strong, mature and responsible children. Their contribution to community life does not go unrecognised, and earns them the respect of adults. This allows them to see themselves as "good children".
Our research points to the struggles and coping strategies of young carers in sub-Saharan Africa. One of the more important lessons was the significance of including children's voices in research. By incorporating their perspectives, a different story emerged – one that highlighted children's contribution to dealing with the Aids epidemic and their ability to cope with hardship, dismissing the idea that they are passive victims and a burden to their families.
Some people may argue that a focus on coping hides the grim reality of living in a poor and Aids-affected household, and serves as a barrier to the mobilisation of support for this group of vulnerable children. However, incorporating children's voices and learning how they respond to the Aids epidemic from them seems to be the only way in which we can develop support that can help their coping and wellbeing. We need to acknowledge that African children are resourceful and play a key role in the response to Aids.
Morten Skovdal is a research fellow at the Institute of Social Psychology, London School of Economics
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This will be the Arab world's next battle | Lester R Brown
Global development news, comment and analysis | guardian.co.uk
Population growth and water supply are on a collision course. Hunger is set to become the main issue
Long after the political uprisings in the Middle East have subsided, many underlying challenges that are not now in the news will remain. Prominent among these are rapid population growth, spreading water shortages, and growing food insecurity.
In some countries grain production is now falling as aquifers – underground water-bearing rocks – are depleted. After the Arab oil-export embargo of the 1970s, the Saudis realised that since they were heavily dependent on imported grain, they were vulnerable to a grain counter-embargo. Using oil-drilling technology, they tapped into an aquifer far below the desert to produce irrigated wheat. In a matter of years, Saudi Arabia was self-sufficient in its principal food staple.
But after more than 20 years of wheat self-sufficiency, the Saudis announced in January 2008 that this aquifer was largely depleted and they would be phasing out wheat production. Between 2007 and 2010, the harvest of nearly 3m tonnes dropped by more than two-thirds. At this rate the Saudis could harvest their last wheat crop in 2012 and then be totally dependent on imported grain to feed their population of nearly 30 million.
The unusually rapid phaseout of wheat farming in Saudi Arabia is due to two factors. First, in this arid country there is little farming without irrigation. Second, irrigation depends almost entirely on a fossil aquifer – which, unlike most aquifers, does not recharge naturally from rainfall. And the desalted sea water the country uses to supply its cities is far too costly for irrigation use – even for the Saudis.
Saudi Arabia's growing food insecurity has led it to buy or lease land in several other countries, including two of the world's hungriest, Ethiopia and Sudan. In effect, the Saudis are planning to produce food for themselves with the land and water resources of other countries to augment their fast-growing imports.
In neighbouring Yemen, replenishable aquifers are being pumped well beyond the rate of recharge, and the deeper fossil aquifers are also being rapidly depleted. Water tables are falling throughout Yemen by about two metres per year. In the capital, Sana'a – home to 2 million people – tap water is available only once every four days. In Taiz, a smaller city to the south, it is once every 20 days.
Yemen, with one of the world's fastest-growing populations, is becoming a hydrological basket case. With water tables falling, the grain harvest has shrunk by one-third over the last 40 years, while demand has continued its steady rise. As a result the Yemenis import more than 80% of their grain. With its meagre oil exports falling, with no industry to speak of, and with nearly 60% of its children physically stunted and chronically undernourished, this poorest of the Arab countries is facing a bleak and potentially turbulent future.
The likely result of the depletion of Yemen's aquifers – which will lead to further shrinkage of its harvest and spreading hunger and thirst – is social collapse. Already a failing state, it may well devolve into a group of tribal fiefdoms, warring over whatever meagre water resources remain. Yemen's internal conflicts could spill over its long, unguarded border with Saudi Arabia.
Syria and Iraq – the other two populous countries in the region – have water troubles, too. Some of these arise from the reduced flows of the Euphrates and Tigris rivers, which they depend on for irrigation water. Turkey, which controls the headwaters of these rivers, is in the midst of a massive dam building programme that is reducing downstream flows. Although all three countries are party to water-sharing arrangements, Turkey's plans to expand hydropower generation and its area of irrigation are being fulfilled partly at the expense of its two downstream neighbours.
Given the future uncertainty of river water supplies, farmers in Syria and Iraq are drilling more wells for irrigation. This is leading to overpumping in both countries. Syria's grain harvest has fallen by one-fifth since peaking at roughly 7m tonnes in 2001. In Iraq, the grain harvest has fallen by a quarter since peaking at 4.5m tonnes in 2002.
Jordan, with 6 million people, is also on the ropes agriculturally. Forty or so years ago, it was producing more than 300,000 tonnes of grain per year. Today it produces only 60,000 tonnes and thus must import over 90% of its grain. In this region, only Lebanon has avoided a decline in grain production.
Thus in the Arab Middle East, where populations are growing fast, the world is seeing the first collision between population growth and water supply at the regional level. For the first time in history, grain production is dropping in a region with nothing in sight to arrest the decline. Because of the failure of governments to mesh population and water policies, each day now brings 10,000 more people to feed, and less irrigation water with which to feed them.
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