Meddlers or Mediators? African Interveners in Civil Conflicts in Eastern Africa (International Negotiation)

Meddlers or Mediators?

International Negotiation Series Edited by

Daniel Druckman George Mason University University of Queensland

William Donohue Michigan State University Editorial Board Jacob Bercovitch, University of Canterbury Guy Faure, Sorbonne University P. Terrence Hopmann, Brown University Dean Pruitt, George Mason University Linda Putnam, University of California at Santa Barbara Bertram Spector, Center for Negotiation Analysis William Zartman, The Johns Hopkins University

VOLUME 4

Meddlers or Mediators? African Interveners in Civil Conicts in Eastern Africa

By

Gilbert M. Khadiagala University of Witwatersrand

LEIDEN • BOSTON 2007

This book is printed on acid-free paper. A Cataloging-in-Publication record for this book is available from the Library of Congress

ISBN 978 90 04 16331 7 Copyright 2007 by Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, The Netherlands. Koninklijke Brill NV incorporates the imprints Brill, Hotei Publishing, IDC Publishers, Martinus Nijhoff Publishers and VSP. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, translated, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission from the publisher. Authorization to photocopy items for internal or personal use is granted by Koninklijke Brill NV provided that the appropriate fees are paid directly to The Copyright Clearance Center, 222 Rosewood Drive, Suite 910, Danvers, MA 01923, USA. Fees are subject to change. PRINTED IN THE NETHERLANDS

To the memory of my grandfather, Elisha Museni Shagi (1898–1982), who sparked my interest in ideas

CONTENTS Preface ........................................................................................................

ix

Chapter One Meddlers or Mediators? African Interveners in Civil Conicts in Eastern Africa, Introduction ...................................

1

Chapter Two

Moi Mediates Uganda’s Civil War, 1985 .....................

19

Chapter Three Tanzania Mediates Rwanda’s Civil War, 1992–1993 ..............................................................................................

57

Chapter Four

Nyerere Mediates Burundi’s Civil War, 1995–1999 ....

107

Chapter Five

Mandela Mediates Burundi’s Civil War, 1999–2001 ....

165

Chapter Six Intergovernmental Authority on Development (IGAD) Mediates Sudan’s Civil War, 1993–1999 ............................................

187

Chapter Seven

Professionalizing IGAD’s Mediation, 1999–2005 .......

229

Chapter Eight Conclusion: Beyond Meddling? Eastern African Mediators in Comparative Perspectives ...............................................

253

Bibliography ..............................................................................................

263

Index ..........................................................................................................

271

Preface This book has been long in gestation. It began as an effort to broaden my previous work that probed the strengths and shortcomings of indigenous African initiatives at problem-solving and conict management. My original research terrain was Southern Africa where I analyzed the capacity of African states to manage the problems occasioned by racial injustices and discrimination. In the 1990s, Eastern Africa presented new analytical vistas because of the proliferation of civil wars and the evolving pattern of intervention by local mediators. While Southern African initiatives forced me to widen the analytical net to study the nature of alliances and alliance formation, Eastern African civil conicts allowed me to narrow the conceptual envelope to actors and institutions that animate mediation processes. Although limited in scope, I consider this book to be an intellectual deepening of my previous research. In 1995, the United States Institute of Peace (USIP) was generous with a grant that jumpstarted research for this book. I started modestly with three case studies – Uganda, Rwanda, and Sudan – where African states had engaged in efforts to mediate civil wars. The grant facilitated research in Addis Ababa, Dar es Salaam, Kigali, Kampala, and Nairobi. When I submitted the nal grant report to USIP in December 1996, it became obvious that I needed to go beyond these cases, hence my inclusion of Burundi, a case that had started to raise interesting questions about mediation by an elder statesman, Mwalimu Julius Nyerere. The choice of Burundi, however, saddled me with the problem of unending negotiations that I was already facing in grappling with the evolution of Sudan’s civil war. Proceeding in ts and starts, the Burundi and Sudan mediation initiatives seemed continually mired in stalemates that tasked my energies, detained my analysis, and postponed my conclusions. Moreover, as the negotiations plodded on inconclusively, there were mounting pressures from peers, family, and academic bureaucracies to nish the book, to “just get it out.” I resisted these entreaties, waiting for an outcome that would conrm my initial hunch about the persistence and resilience of African mediators, despite profound obstacles to their abilities to end civil conicts. But I also avoided the temptation to embark on analysis of the mediation efforts in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC), fearing a repeat of the interminable processes in Burundi and Sudan. Ten years after the initial research, the civil wars in Burundi and Sudan reached closure, giving me the breathing space to conclude the book on a much more stronger and hopeful note.

x

PREFACE

Throughout this scholarly enterprise, I have beneted from the advice, counsel, and tolerance of many people who I wish to acknowledge. David Smock at USIP was supportive of the project from its conceptualization. My Kent State University political science colleague, Steve Brown, gave valuable insights during the proposal writing stage. At the Johns Hopkins University’s School of Advanced International Studies (SAIS), where I spend sixteen years as a graduate student and professor, I found inspiration in the copious mediation research of I. William Zartman and Saadia Touval, who made time to review some drafts. I also wish to acknowledge many long-term friends and colleagues at SAIS who contributed to the maturation of my scholarship: Terrence Lyons, Frederick Ehrenreich, Lynn E. Khadiagala, Theresa Simmons, Shawnetta Jackson, Julius Mutwol, and Kwaku Nuamah. In 2003, SAIS gave me a summer research grant to complete interviews in Dar es Salaam, Nairobi, and Washington DC. Throughout my interviews, my informants wished to remain anonymous. Donald S. Rothchild, a dear friend and kind soul, was generous with his time, making meticulous and informed comments on the manuscript before his untimely demise in January 2007. I owe Don special thanks for being positive and patient about this book where some sought quick results. From the outset, it was a pleasure to work with Tom Ofcansky in an informal editorial role. Since the rst version of the manuscript in 1998, Tom read every chapter with a tooth-comb and provided insightful comments. This association enabled me to draw from Tom’s vast knowledge of actors and institutions in Eastern Africa and, increasingly, my analysis was enriched by his healthy skepticism about regional politics. I have also beneted from the editorial advice and encouragement of Hylke Faber at Martinus Nijhoff Publishers. As is common with such projects, I had an army of graduate and undergraduate research assistants at Kent State and SAIS who did an excellent job searching the archives and data bases for materials that form the core of the book. I want to thank them sincerely. Finally, Wema J. Kategile contributed to the completion of this work. I want to express my appreciation of this role.

Chapter One

Meddlers or Mediators? African Interveners in Civil Conicts in Eastern Africa, Introduction Peace through stalemate based on a coincident recognition by each side of the opponent’s strength, is at least preferable to peace through common exhaustion – and has often provided a better foundation for lasting peace. B. H. Liddell Hart1

Introduction African mediators constitute a vital component in the bids to manage conicts and seek solutions to civil wars. Since the mid-1980s, African mediators have cajoled and prodded recalcitrant parties to contemplate ceaseres and constitutional arrangements and mobilized international initiatives to end these wars. Mediating civil wars has exposed African actors to the intricacies and difculties of intermediary roles, humbled their capacities, and enriched individual and collective experiences. This cumulative learning process helps scholars seeking comparative lessons about the efcacy of mediation in conict resolution and to policymakers struggling to build institutions for mediation. This book examines why and how African mediators intervene in civil wars and the outcomes of their interventions. The focus on the motives, resources, and intervention strategies, captures the constraints and opportunities of African mediators and permits understanding of their interactions with external actors in the termination of civil wars. To understand African mediators, this study presents a three-tiered spectrum of individual and institutional roles: state mediators, elder statesmen, and regional mediators. There are four case studies that form the empirical base for analyses of these roles: Kenya’s mediation of Uganda’s civil war, 1985; Tanzania’s mediation of Rwanda’s civil war, 1992–1993; Julius Nyerere and Nelson Mandela’s mediation of Burundi’s civil war, 1996–2003; and the Intergovernmental Authority on Development (IGAD) mediation of Sudan’s civil war, 1993–2005. Growing African mediation of civil conicts stems from diminished engagement of external actors. These roles have coincided with two other trends.

2

CHAPTER ONE

First, there has been an upsurge of communal conagrations which arose from the decay of post-colonial order and the diminution of the principles that had underwritten the African state system, notably the non-intervention tenet of sovereignty. Civil wars in Angola, Burundi, the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC), Liberia, Rwanda, Sierra Leone, Somalia, and Sudan have exemplied the larger phenomenon of communal groups grappling to create stable rules to manage new and old sources of socioeconomic diversity and decay. Second, as the burdens of containing the chaos of civil wars fell increasingly on local actors, the African Union (AU) and its predecessor, the Organization of African Unity (OAU), and sub-regional organizations revitalized institutions for intervention and mediation in the quest for solutions to local problems. The intervention of mediators in communal conicts has, however, spawned questions that the facile characterization of African solutions to African problems conceals. These questions relate to whether local actors have the capacity and resources to end protracted social conicts or whether intervention roles are foisted on them irrespective of leverage and organizational latitude. Issues of resources and leverage that delineate mediators from meddlers are important because recent studies on resolving civil conicts view mediation as compensating for the deciencies of feuding parties. Since civil war disputants are often incapable of negotiating agreements on their own for many reasons, they invite third parties whose roles, in turn, become weightier and more signicant than those typical of other mediation contexts.2 At the heart of this study is the analytical distinction between mediators as authors of ceaseres and constitutions in target countries and intrusive meddlers who, although imbued with good intentions, muddle through challenging processes of peacemaking with limited organizational capacity.

Understanding the Mediation of Civil Wars Africa’s civil wars result from the old and new fault lines of ethnicity, religion, and regionalism. As products of profound inequities in political and economic resources, these wars are compounded by the ability of elites and political entrepreneurs to mobilize ethnic differences and historical grievances.3 Some civil wars are centralist, whereby insurgents, dissatised with the prevailing distribution of state power, employ violence to gain access to political and economic resources. In centralist conicts such as Burundi, Rwanda, Sierra Leone, and Liberia governments and their challengers struggle for control of state power, to dene the nature of the political system and rules of national governance. Others are separatist or secessionist conicts in which insurgents

AFRICAN INTERVENERS IN EASTERN AFRICAN CIVIL CONFLICTS, INTRODUCTION

3

mount challenges to established territories and seek to create new states by invoking distinctive ethnic, regional, and cultural claims. The Casmance in Senegal and the Cabinda enclave in Angola illustrate contemporary secessionist claims by groups contesting the territorial unit.4 Despite their coloring, civil conicts signify deep-seated ssures over identity, legitimacy, and the principles of political organization. Groups seek to assert their distinctiveness and intensify ethno-cultural feelings when states fail to provide rights, security, and prosperity. As Kelly and Miller observe, civil wars denote “the collapse of the common experiment in the good life, the detonation of public order.”5 Additionally, as Olson notes, civil conicts are crisis of “governance that grows out of the effort to answer two age-old questions: who should govern, on what principle. In many older states, these questions are still not completely settled, nor will they ever be. But in many newer states, these questions have not even begun to be answered with any degree of satisfaction for the communities involved. The process of resolving these issues has always and everywhere been the occasion for considerable violence and upheaval.”6 Most obstacles to the termination of civil wars stem from the decimation of civic discourse and routine rules of political contestation. When governments and aggrieved groups resort to violence to redress their problems, it becomes difcult to nudge the parties to peaceful solutions. Mediation studies have emphasized that civil wars epitomize political contests where, as Touval contends, “members are locked into a continuous, ongoing relationship, with virtually no ability to escape the system or terminate their interaction. They are interdependent, what happens to one affects the fortunes of others. An important issue in their interaction is the competition for power and inuence.”7 As they compete for power, disputants are often far apart, the stakes become too high, and the incentives too few for them to settle. In these circumstances, mediators assume roles of overcoming the perceptual and attitudinal gulf between the combatants, especially their reluctance to negotiate. As Touval further notes, competitive contexts such as civil wars demand mediators who are likely to “engage actively in negotiations and bargaining with the parties, in order to persuade them to accept particular terms. Negotiation and bargaining will take place in addition to other functions that mediators usually perform, such as facilitating communication, conciliating between the parties, inventing proposals and packages that might become acceptable to both sides. Powerful actors, or those who have plentiful resources at their disposal, are more likely to succeed in this style of mediation than weak or poor ones.”8 The role of leverage has led many analysts to depict effective interveners in civil wars as mediators with clout, muscle, or the ability to act as

4

CHAPTER ONE

power brokers.9 Leverage stems from resources that endow mediators with the power and stature to reward or to punish the disputants for cooperative or uncooperative behavior. Furthermore, since most civil wars are characterized by gross power asymmetries between incumbents and challengers, clout affords mediators the ability to redress such imbalances through the creation of stalemates.10 Stalemates are crucial when combatants see mediation as a stumbling block toward unilateral victory. Where power distribution inhibits meaningful negotiation, the mediator’s role in creating stalemates becomes one of intricate empowerment of the weak against the strong party. As stated by Wehr, empowerment “rests on the principle that balance is desirable in a conict situation . . . As the desperate and the oppressed gain some sort of power base in the conict, some legitimate leverage of countervailing force, the conict becomes more amenable to negotiated, nonviolent settlement.”11 To Groom and Webb, “mediators empower weaker parties in the interest of equitable settlement to end human misery.”12 Leverage is also important because in states torn by civil violence, governments only nominally in charge of diminishing power and territory, ignore demands for power-sharing, deride the legitimacy of their challengers’ claims, and invoke notions of sovereignty to keep mediators at bay. Most observers have described the competitive bidding for international attention between parties in civil conicts as the problem of entry.13 By mobilizing diverse resources to manage and to control the mediation process, mediators with muscle help to overcome entry problems. Even when governments use sovereignty to prevent outsiders from interfering in matters of domestic jurisdiction, as McEwen and Milburn note, “representatives of interested outsiders ‘offer’ their services as mediators to parties who often (but not always) nd it difcult to reject them.”14 The view of mediators as actors who make themselves indispensable to protagonists partly reinforces the emphasis power-based approaches put on stalemates and the independent interests of mediators. Although clout and leverage are widely depicted as critical to the achievement of ending civil conicts, other analysts focus on the importance of mediators’ intangible resources such as trust, empathy, and condence in explaining successful outcomes. Mediation analysts in non-Western settings have pinpointed to the signicance of culture, noting that successful mediators draw primarily from the disputant’s values and beliefs systems to nudge them toward compromise.15 In their study of civil conicts in Central America, Wehr and Lederach use the broad notion of conanza to describe the array of cultural and moral practices found in traditional societies where primary face-to-face relations dominate political and economic exchange and where intimate ties are important to negotiated settlements. They observe that, in such settings,

AFRICAN INTERVENERS IN EASTERN AFRICAN CIVIL CONFLICTS, INTRODUCTION

5

disputants prefer “insider-partial” as opposed to “outsider-neutral” mediators because the former are part of an ongoing set of relationship where the conict is expressed: “Insider-partial mediators come from within a conict, their acceptability to disputants is rooted not in distance from the conict or objectivity regarding the issues, but rather in connectedness and trusted relationships with the conict parties.”16 Similarly, Assefa has found that cultural resources such as “trust,” “understanding,” and “deep respect and persuasion,” predominate in African mediation contexts. Effective mediators, he claims, are those who have long-term relationship with the parties and understand the nuances of the conict as well as the parties’ visible and concealed concerns. Indigenous mediators with knowledge about the conict are preferable because: Only a small portion of the inner preoccupations and concerns of the parties is articulated and therefore visible to the external observer. Much of it remains camouaged by the parties’ pride, embarrassment, shame, differing cultural expressions for emotions, or the inability to put words to certain feelings . . . it becomes difcult for an external actor from another culture to enter the scene and try to grasp the mind set of the actors in order to bring about reconciliation. Here different kinds of actors, those closer to the situation, might be needed . . . In such cases, drawing from indigenous approaches and involving people who are rooted in the situation may be needed. It might be extremely important that the reconciliation function be guided by persons with a deeper understanding of the nuances of the conict as well as the parties’ visible and concealed concerns. Those who have long term relationships to the parties and the situation and who have commitment not only to making but sustaining peace will enhance the mediation effort’s likelihood of success.17

Even though he acknowledges that cultural sensitivity may not always be expeditious, Assefa concludes that “leverage is a poor substitute for the sentiments and tools of the trust-based approach. Leverage cannot make the parties genuinely want peace. Leverage cannot substitute for lack of trust . . . in some cases, leverage may even work to inhibit it . . . When the mediator has greater international clout or power base than the conict parties, the latter may feel vulnerable and fearful of manipulation by the third party.”18 Power- and trust-based approaches point to complementary rather than competitive structural and cultural sources of power.19 They constitute tangible and intangible resources that form an essential component of the mediator’s diplomatic repertoire. In reconciling conicts, mediators frequently deploy both sources of power: leverage without sensitivity to the cultural contexts of the parties risks frittering away the energies of the mediators on unattainable goals. Similarly, mediators need more than trust, perseverance, and impartiality in reaching settlements where disputants are torn by long standing stakes and

6

CHAPTER ONE

animosities. Mediators require resources and local knowledge about the drivers of conicts, issues that straddle the structural and cultural bases of power. The cases in this study reveal that successful African mediators are intrusive power managers learning to overcome the diverse structural and cultural obstacles that diminish their effectiveness.

Posing the Problem of Eastern African Mediation Conicts in Eastern Africa have been marked by combatants who occupy the same territorial space and where disputants often resort to violence to achieve their objectives. In these contexts, mediators confront the tasks of conict control and rule making. What is often at stake, Zartman notes, is not merely adjustment of positions, but, rather, momentous issues of political change.20 Questions of sources of power are germane in these contexts because of the dual mandates of mediator’s as authors of ceaseres and constitutions. The interveners attempt to resolve disputes and help to construct long-term institutions enshrined in constitutions. As disputing parties haggle over truces and rules for long-term stability, mediators become rule-makers and institution-builders, assisting to improve the ties of authority, amity, and interdependence. Since Eastern African actors bear such intervention burdens, how do they marshal the resources to prod recalcitrant civil war disputants to the table, keep them there, and contribute to durable outcomes? This study contends that escalating civil conicts have propelled neighbors to assume responsibility for mediation in the absence of meaningful power and leverage. Invocation of cultural arguments such as proximity to the disputants and deeper knowledge of the conicts often does not substitute for concrete diplomatic and political tools that make for effective mediation. The consequences of civil wars force African intervention in circumstances where local mediators are striving to enhance their institutional and organizational capacities. Apart from mobilizing external actors for leverage, Eastern African mediators have overcome resource constraints by deploying coercive force as demonstrated by economic sanctions in Burundi (chapter 4) and the political and military pressures on Sudan (chapter 6). But these instruments are new and tentative. By intervening with only limited tangible and material resources, African interveners have contributed to the widespread perception of being meddlers rather than mediators. They intervene out of necessity but without the means to be effective. Nonetheless, this book’s core argument is that where tangible resources are meager and insufciently deployed, the principal tool for mediators derives from what could be categorized as organizational power, that is, the power

AFRICAN INTERVENERS IN EASTERN AFRICAN CIVIL CONFLICTS, INTRODUCTION

7

that comes from invitation to participate in nding solutions to civil wars. Organizational power denotes the ability of mediators to work around structural constraints once they have gained entry and the parties have embraced them as authoritative participants in conict resolution. The classical conception of mediation as a third party “interposition” in negotiations between disputing parties to nd a peaceful settlement is fundamentally a thesis on the invitational components of organizational power. From this perspective, mediators occupy a unique structural position combining what Simmel characterizes as “distance and nearness, indifference and involvement.”21 By intervening, mediators modify the dyadic negotiating relationship into a triadic one of reciprocal inter-party inuence, communication and decision-making.22 Gulliver points to some of the critical features embedded in mediation roles: The disputing parties retain their ability to decide whether or not to agree to and accept proposals for an outcome, irrespective of the source of the proposals. Yet clearly the mediator exercises inuence in some degree, whether he remains largely passive or virtually controls the exchange of information and the learning process. He himself interacts with each party and with both together, and they may communicate to and through him. He becomes a party in the negotiations. He becomes a negotiator, and as such, he inevitably brings with him, deliberately or not, certain ideas, knowledge, and assumptions, as well as certain interests and concerns of his own and those of other people whom he represents.23

In recent years, mediation scholars have used various labels to capture an array of issue-specic capabilities related to organizational power such as facilitation, legitimacy and commitment, and information that are typical of “powerless” mediators.24 Most analysts conceptualize organizational power as process and decision control, the inuence that accrues to the mediator from the parties’ inability to resolve their predicament. While process control refers to the amount of inuence the third party can exert over the procedures by which the dispute is to be resolved, decision control refers to the amount of inuence that third parties can exert over the outcome of the dispute resolution procedure.25 Overall, as Conlon asserts, once the disputants are amenable to outside assistance, the “mediation takes some of the power away from the disputants (elements of process control) and places it in the hands of the third party.”26 And as Dobinson observes, “If small states are to ‘succeed’ as mediators, they are likely to draw quite heavily on referent power – on their relations with the protagonists.”27 Carnevale also has pointed to the centrality of power inherent in mediation contexts noting that the “key source of strength in mediation comes from the disputants’ need for the mediator’s involvement in nding solutions to their problems.”28 Furthermore, he distinguishes between resource-based sources

8

CHAPTER ONE

of power (‘strategic strength’) and behavioral aspects to mediation (‘tactical strength’). The latter, he notes, is about the moves in the mediation game and “entails the mediator’s adroit handling of the negotiations process, to affect it . . . tactical strength refers to what the mediator does at the negotiation table.”29 Equally germane, “tactical strength requires the greatest dexterity and nesse in mediation. Knowing what to do and when, with the appropriate touch, often borne of years of training and experience, is what makes the ‘art’ side of mediation so salient.”30 Breaching the walls of sovereignty has endowed African mediators with privileged positions to inuence the triangular relationships characteristic of negotiations. In the Eastern African cases, organizational power captures variables such as knowledge and information about conicts and parties, the mediator’s attention, persistence, preparation, and clarity of purpose. Organizational power is not just preparedness and patience, but ultimately one of leadership skills, styles, and competence. In the dynamic contexts of civil wars, understanding of parties, interests, and stakes to conicts is critical to effective mediation. How mediators prepare and persist in negotiations, mature and innovate as these processes evolve, alerts us to their grasp of roles and responsibilities. These variables seem trivial in the broader calculus of structural impediments to Eastern African mediation, but they are issues of organizational power that are within the reach of local mediators. These are issues that African mediators can manipulate in creative ways and with existing resources. More vital, the power that emerges from invitation and entry as key organizational variables relate to the institutional locus and legitimacy of the mediators. Lane has remarked that a major mediation challenge is to nd the “Archimedean piece of ground on which to stand with the parties.” Mediators must have credible standing and legitimacy with the parties sufcient to permit entry into the disputes.31 In the same vein, Kleiboer has provided analytical links between individuals and institutions through the notions of mediators’ positional and institutional status. Positional status refers to the mediator’s standing in his country or organization, while the institutional status stems from the larger constituency: “A mediator seldom acts as an individual, but usually as a spokesman or representative of a national state or non-governmental organization. The standing, legitimacy, and leverage of these “mediating bodies” determine the status of the representative who acts as a mediator.”32 In Eastern Africa, the institutional identity and constituency of mediators are pertinent in discussions of political and value structures. In helping parties to identify enduring institutions such as constitutions and charters, mediators draw inspiration from their own sense of justice and good conduct. Gulliver

AFRICAN INTERVENERS IN EASTERN AFRICAN CIVIL CONFLICTS, INTRODUCTION

9

has argued that mediators seek settlements that are agreeable and tolerable to their own ideas and interests.33 The institutional bases of African mediators speak to the often-neglected dimension of credibility as organization power. Where the roles of mediators in internal conicts overlap and presage the creation of rules and institutions, the institutional standing of the mediators affects their credibility as interveners. By focusing on the political and value structures of African mediators, this study underscores the chronic credibility gap that arises from the inability of mediators to prescribe settlements that are inconsistent with their own institutional positions. Although credibility derives from the reputation and track records of mediators, it is chiey a question of domestic institutional standing and values. These variables either enhance or hamper the authority and prescriptive mandates of mediators in civil conicts. Some case studies in this book demonstrate that mediators who peddle power-sharing and constitutional packages that are alien to their domestic contexts nd themselves in awkward prescriptive positions. Consequently, in the absence of close relations between domestic values and intervention roles, these mediators lack moral leverage, an essential component of organizational power. As discussed in chapters 4 and 5, the growing importance of elder statesmen in mediation stems largely from the quest for intermediaries with prestige, respect, and expertise to play catalytic and credible roles in civil conicts. Similarly, as chapter 7 illustrates, there are efforts to make African mediators more professional. As conceptualized in this study, therefore, organizational power covers three interrelated descriptive and prescriptive variables that are signicant to understand the behavior of African mediators. First, with respect to the mediator’s facilitative role in conict resolution, organizational power highlights the resources that invitation and entry confer on the mediators. Whether East African mediators seize these resources or not forms a core part of the analysis of most of cases. Second, organizational power connotes the norms and principles that inform the mediators, hence the centrality of legitimacy and moral leverage that constitute the impetus for elder statesmen. The norms underpinning the mediators and their initiatives, in turn, ease some of the encumbrances of mediation, as will be demonstrated in Nyerere and Mandela’s mediation in Burundi. Finally, there is an institutional component to organizational power through the creation of institutional structures such as mediation committees, working groups, and secretariats that were witnessed in the mediation of conicts in Rwanda, Burundi, and Sudan. By creating these institutions, Eastern African mediators have signaled a willingness to boost their capacities to control the negotiation processes and improve mediated

10

CHAPTER ONE

outcomes. Throughout this study, how the three components of organizational power relate to each other furnishes the analytical anchor for whether there has been a pattern of learning and accumulation of experiences toward more professional mediation practices. The conception of mediators as owners of power resources or as innovative managers of invitation and entry contrasts with that of meddlers who are thrust in such roles due to proximity to the conict or because there are no alternative mediators. Bilder describes an “ofcious meddler,” as a third party “butting into a situation without invitation and against the parties’ wishes.”34 Although accurate, this view provides only one facet of meddlers. The dominant Eastern African pattern is where intervention is driven by multiple pressures without the actors possessing the capacity or organization to reach a settlement. Devoid of tangible and organizational power, meddlers are prone to squander the opportunities of invitation and entry. This is most common where normative pressures for intervention in conicts outweigh the preparedness essential to mediation. Meddling is also a consequence of jostling for power and positions among regional powers. Civil wars disrupt regional stability through spillover effects such as movement of refugees, arms ows, environmental degradation, and heightened ethnic tensions.35 As civil wars increasingly have become internationalized wars, they have inevitably drawn many states into recurring cycles of conict. As the costs of civil wars escalate, the stakes for regional states in these conicts invariably rise, forcing competitive mediation bids by actors who may be unprepared for these roles. The need to preempt the misery and contagion of civil conicts force the determination to mediate in conicts that demand tact, effort, and commitment. Regional mediation rivalries are further heightened where intermediary roles promise domestic and external gains. These competitions, however, superimpose additional layers of conagration onto existing civil conicts. Meddling by regional actors ultimately affects the integrity of the negotiation processes, postponing speedy outcomes. This study equally demonstrates that meddlers gradually learn to be mediators partly because of the need to avoid previous mistakes, the persistent quest for successes, exposure to knowledge about best practices, and nudging from external actors who invest in the conict resolution exercises. The convergence of these factors has produced the impetus for innovation in mediation roles, borne of the realization that the bulk of the responsibilities for conict resolution in Africa will continue to lie, by default, on the shoulders of local actors. As the 1990s unleashed civil wars requiring attention, and as mediation increasingly became a method of ending these wars, African states have been

AFRICAN INTERVENERS IN EASTERN AFRICAN CIVIL CONFLICTS, INTRODUCTION

11

forced to search for mediators with a measure of credibility, clout, and commitment, essential variables of organizational power. The chapters on Burundi and Sudan demonstrate that external pressures for credible mediation exercises gradually wrought institutional learning that is critical for the future. African mediators have matured in institutional terms, reecting the determination to build national and collective efforts for conict prevention and reduction. Although the dominant institutional framework for mediation in Eastern Africa remains state-centric, the almost twenty-year period that this study traverses reveals changes in the actors converging around mediation processes. For instance, the changing locus of mediators is captured in the appointment of special envoys based in professional institutions and the increasing trend to designate African elder statesmen as mediators such as Julius Nyerere, Nelson Mandela, and Ketumile Masire in the DRC who lent their prestige and moral suasion to mediation. Although widely posited in the cultural context of the resurrection of the African tradition of deference to elders, the intervention value of former heads of states lies primarily in their potential to overcome some organizational encumbrances of state mediators.36 The relationships between African mediators and foreign actors form a vital part of understanding conict resolution in Eastern Africa. Probing whether international actors supplant, supplement, or subvert local efforts is relevant to the analyses of constraints and opportunities. Moreover, it furnishes insights into how the mediators and disputants in conicts have mobilized broader international constituencies. A major theme of Eastern African cases is that of crowdedness, where diverse parties and intermediaries congregate about these conicts. Crowdedness engenders the wars that Assefa has alluded to: “At times, mini-wars break out among “peace people”-over who gets to do what, who will have center stage, and who gets credit, each with visions of Nobel Peace prizes dancing in their heads.”37 Why are these conicts crowded? First, crowdedness results from the internal structure of civil wars where contested sovereignty attracts multiple parties that add a layer of complexity to them. As internal fragmentation yields a functional differentiation of roles and interests, mediators strive to manage actors converging around peacemaking enterprises. Second, there are many actors crowding about African conicts because despite the rhetoric of African solutions to African problems, powerful external actors retain an abiding interest in dening the content and outcomes of settlements. In addition to external state actors, this study delineates roles of international relief agencies and non-governmental organizations (NGOs) in exerting inuence on local mediation. Relief and humanitarian organizations in civil wars are critical, but their

12

CHAPTER ONE

contribution to peacemaking is less understood. As communal conicts propel local and international NGOs into arenas of conict mitigation and control, there is need to investigate how these actors relate to African mediators. Conceptually, crowdedness undergirds recent comparative studies on thirdparty intermediaries in communal conicts that highlights the signicance of process and contingency in conict resolution.38 These studies propose that since most civil conicts have an internal structure that unfolds sequentially from emergence, escalation, de-escalation, and settlement, their resolution requires the enlistment of diverse resources and actors that facilitate constructive outcomes at various stages of the conict continuum. Thus, mediating these conicts demands several actors performing complementary roles that contribute to the quest for peace settlements.39 The Eastern African cases reveal that the notion of intermediaries as service providers structured along a conict continuum obscures understanding the obstacles of coordination and competitive goals. The intermediary division of labor between African and external actors stems from asymmetries in resources that are mirrored in actors having divergent points of entry into conicts, access, and acceptability to parties. These asymmetries, however, rarely yield supplementation, sequencing, and subcontracting of roles, leaving African mediators to negotiate continually with multiple actors with varying sources of accountability, authority, and responsibility. Confronted with various actors that speak in discordant voices, target different parties, and exploit distinct vulnerabilities, African mediators often become bystanders. But the problems of crowdedness are not insurmountable, as most cases in this study reveal. Although competing foreign policy interests of states and institutional rivalries among non-state actors preclude sequencing among multiple mediators, part of the maturation of African mediators has entailed learning to negotiate around the presence of multiple actors, deriving resources and leverage from them, while also keeping intrusive meddlers at bay. In probing the division of labor between African and international actors in mediation, this study examines how African actors have steered international state and non-state actors toward similar ends in conict resolution. By the same token, by their leverage and resources, various international actors have contributed not just to ending of Eastern Africa’s civil conicts, but also have helped in building the institutional capacity for local mediation.

Organization of Chapters The book weaves these themes and questions into six chapters. Chapter two focuses on Moi’s mediation of Uganda’s civil war in 1985 by identifying the

AFRICAN INTERVENERS IN EASTERN AFRICAN CIVIL CONFLICTS, INTRODUCTION

13

issues, parties, and outcomes of the mediation. It reveals the limits of Kenya mediation and explains the failure of the Nairobi Agreement. Chapter three analyses Tanzania’s 1992–1993 mediation of Rwanda’s conict; it describes how the mediators coordinated their efforts with other actors to reach the Arusha Agreement. Chapter four and ve focus on Africa’s elder statesmen as mediators in Burundi’s civil war. The mediation of Nyerere and Mandela is situated in ongoing debates about the use of former heads of states in conict situations, pointing to their strengths and weaknesses. Chapters six and seven discuss the role of the IGAD in mediating the Sudanese civil conict between 1993 and 2005, illuminating how regional actors mobilized diverse multilateral resources in conict resolution. Chapter six examines IGAD’s formative years in establishing the parameters for a negotiated settlement to the Sudanese war. Chapter seven discusses the contribution of the revitalized IGAD Secretariat, particularly under the leadership of special envoys, Daniel Mboya and Lazarus Sumbeiywo, in reaching the landmark Machakos and Naivasha peace agreements. The concluding chapter underscores the primacy of building mediation institutions in Africa in light of the experiences gleaned from the study and the expanding role of local mediators in communal conicts.

Notes 1. B. H. Liddell Hart, Strategy: The Indirect Approach, Revised edition, (London: Faber and Faber Limited, 1967), p. 370. 2. For these views see Dean G. Pruitt, “The Tactics of Third-Party Intervention,” Orbis, vol. 44, no. 2, Spring 2000, pp. 245–54; I. William Zartman, “Dynamics and Constraints in Negotiations in Internal Conicts,” in Zartman, ed., The Elusive Peace: Negotiating an End to Civil Wars (Washington D.C.: 1995), pp. 3–27; Michael Watkins and Kim Winters, “In Theory: Interveners with Interests and Power,” Negotiation Journal, vol. 13, no. 2, April 1997, pp. 119–142; Saadia Touval, “The Context of Mediation,” Negotiation Journal, vol. 1, no. 3, October 1985, pp. 373–78; and Christopher R. Mitchell, “External Peacemaking Initiatives and Intra-national Conict,” in Manus Midlarsky, ed., The Internationalization of Communal Conict (London: Routledge, 1993), pp. 274–96. 3. David A. Lake and Donald Rothchild, Ethnic Fears and Global Engagement: The International Spread and Management of Ethnic Conict (San Diego: University of California, Institute of Global Conict and Cooperation Policy Paper no. 20, January 1996), David Wippman, ed., International Law and Ethnic Conict (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1999); and David Carment and Patrick James, eds., Wars in the Midst of Peace: The International Politics of Ethnic Conicts (Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press, 1997). 4. For discussions of this two-fold characterization see George Modelski, “International Settlement of Internal War,” in James Rosenau, ed., International Aspects of Civil Strife (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1964), pp. 122–23; and Zartman, “Dynamics and Constraints in Negotiations in Internal Conicts,” pp. 3–7.

14

CHAPTER ONE

5. George Kelly and Linda Miller, Internal War and International Systems: Perspectives on Method (Harvard: Occasional papers in International Affairs, no. 21, August 1969), p. 3. 6. Wm. J. Olson, “Preface: Small Wars Reconsidered,” The Annals, vol. 541, September 1995, p. 12. See also Fred W. Riggs, “Ethnonational Rebellions and Viable Constitutionalism,” International Political Science Review, vol. 16, no. 4, 1995, pp. 375–404; David Wippman, “Introduction: Ethnic Claims and International Law,” in Wippman, ed., International Law and Ethnic Conict, pp. 1–18; Stephanie Lawson, “The Politics of Ethnonationalist Conict and the State,” in Kumar Rupesinghe, ed., Internal Conict and Governance (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1992), pp. 116–42; and Jennone Walker, “International Mediation of Ethnic Conicts,” in Michael E. Brown, ed., Ethnic Conict and International Security (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1996), pp. 165–180. 7. Saadia Touval, “The Context of Mediation,” p. 374. 8. Saadia Touval, “The Context of Mediation,” p. 375. 9. Roger Fisher and Loraleigh Keashly, “The Potential Complementarity of Mediation and Consultation Within a Contingency Model of Third Party Intervention,” Journal of Peace Research, vol. 28, no. 1, 1991, p. 33; James D. Smith, “Mediator Impartiality: Banishing the Chimera,” Journal of Peace Research, vol. 31, no. 4, 1994, pp. 445–50; Howard Raiffa, “Mediation of Conicts,” American Behavioral Scientist, vol. 27, no. 2, 1983, p. 203; Jacob Bercovitch, “Mediators and Mediation Strategies in International Relations,” Negotiation Journal, vol. 8 no. 2, 1992, p. 108; Peter Carnevale, “Strategic Choice in Mediation,” Negotiation Journal, vol. 2, no.1, 1986, p. 42; and Thomas Princen, Intermediaries in International Conicts (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1992), p. 23. 10. For analyses of mediators as authors of stalemates see George Modelski, “International Settlement,” p. 143; Hizkias Assefa, Mediation of Civil Wars: Approaches and StrategiesThe Sudan Conict (Boulder: Westview, 1987) pp. 18–19; and Saadia Touval and I. William Zartman, “International Mediation: Conict Resolution and Power Politics,” Journal of Social Issues, vol. 41, no. 2, 1985, pp. 7–20. 11. Paul Wehr, Conict Regulation (Boulder: Westview, 1979), pp. 37–38. 12. A. J. Groom and K. Webb, “Injustice, Empowerment, and Facilitation in Conict,” International Interaction, vol. 13, no. 3, 1987, p. 263. 13. Christopher Mitchell, “External Peace-Making Initiatives and Intra-national Conict,” p. 276; and Saadia Touval, “Gaining Entry to Mediation in Communal Strife,” p. 259; and Mohammed O. Maundi and others, Getting In: Mediator’s Entry Into the Settlement of African Conicts (Washington, DC: The United States Institute of Peace, 2006). 14. Craig A. McEwen and Thomas Milburn, “In Theory: Explaining a Paradox of Mediation,” Negotiation Journal, vol. 9, no. 1, January 1993, p. 24. See also Christopher Mitchell, “External Peace-Making Initiatives,” p. 282. 15. Sally Engle Merry, “Mediation in Non-Industrial Societies,” in Kenneth Kressel and Dean Pruitt, eds., Mediation Research: The Process and Effectiveness of Third Party Intervention (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1985), p. 72; Philip Gulliver, “Anthropological Contributions to the Study of Negotiations,” Negotiation Journal, vol. 4, no. 3, July 1988, pp. 247–255; John Paul Lederach, “Training on Culture: Four Approaches,” Conciliation Quarterly, vol. 9, no. 6, 1990, 11–13; Kevin Avruch and Peter W. Black, “The Culture Question and Conict Resolution, Peace and Change, vol. 16 no. 1, January 1991, pp. 22–45; Raymond Cohen, “Cultural Aspects of International Mediation,” in Jacob Bercovitch, ed., Resolving International Conicts: The Theory and Practice of Mediation (Boulder: Lynne Rienner, 1996), pp. 107–28; and Marc Howard Ross, The Culture of Conict: Interpretations and Interests in Comparative Perspective (New Haven: Yale University Press), 1993, p. 83.

AFRICAN INTERVENERS IN EASTERN AFRICAN CIVIL CONFLICTS, INTRODUCTION

15

16. Paul Wehr and John Paul Lederach, “Mediating Conict in Central America,” Journal of Peace Research, vol. 28, no. 1, 1991, p. 87. 17. Hizkias Assefa, “The Challenge of Mediation of Internal Wars: Reections on the INN Experience in the Ethiopian/Eritrean Conict,” Security Dialogue, vol. 23, no. 3, 1992, p. 105. 18. Hizkias Assefa, “The Challenge of Mediation of Internal Wars,” pp. 104–105. See also Assefa, “Conict Resolution Perspectives on Civil Wars in the Horn of Africa,” Negotiation Journal, vol. 5, no. 2, April 1990, pp. 173–83; Dayle E. Spencer and William J. Spencer, “Closing the Mediation Gap: The Ethiopia/Eritrea Experience,” Security Dialogue, vol. 23, no. 3, September 1992, pp. 93–94; and Dayle E. Spencer and Honggang Yang, “Lessons from the Field of Intra-National Conict Resolution,” Notre Dame Law Review, vol. 67, no. 5, 1992, pp. 1495–1523. 19. As Assefa, “The Challenge of Mediation in Internal Wars,” p. 104 concedes: “These two approaches need not, however, be mutually exclusive. If those that operate from a trustbase also have access to a power-base, their effectiveness would no doubt be enhanced.” 20. I. William Zartman, “Dynamics and Constraints in Negotiations,” pp. 3–27; Saadia Touval, “The Context of Mediation,” pp. 373–78; and P. H. Gulliver, “On Mediators,” in Ian Hamnett, ed., Social Anthropology and Law (London: Academic Press, 1977), pp. 15–52. 21. Cited in Jack Nusan Porter and Ruth Taplin, Conict and Conict Resolution: A Sociological Introduction (Lanham: University Press of America, 1987), p. 32. 22. Oran A. Young, The Intermediaries: Third Parties in International Crisis (Princeton: Princeton University, 1967); Guy-Olivier Faure, “The Mediator as a Third Party Negotiator,” in Frances Mautner-Markhof, ed., Processes of International Negotiations (Boulder: Westview, 1989), pp. 415–17; I. William Zartman, “In Search of Common Elements in the Analysis of the Negotiation Process,” in Mautner-Markhof, ed., Processes of International Negotiations, pp. 241–242; Kenneth Kressel and Dean Pruitt, “Themes in the Mediation of Social Conict,” Journal of Social Issues, vol. 41, no. 2, 1985, pp. 179–98; and Dean G. Pruitt, “Trends in the Scientic Study of Negotiation and Mediation,” Negotiation Journal, vol. 2, no. 3, July 1986, pp. 237–44. 23. Philip H. Gulliver, Disputes and Negotiations: A Cross-Cultural Perspective (London: Academic Press, 1979), p. 213. For other accounts of mediation contexts see Jeffrey Rubin, “Introduction,” in Dynamics of Third Party Intervention: Kissinger in the Middle East (New York: Praeger, 1981), p. 5; Christopher Moore, The Mediation Process: Practical Strategies for Resolving Conict (London: Jossey-Bass Publishers, 1986); Marieke Kleiboer, International Mediation (Boulder: Lynne Rienner, 1997); and Jacob Bercovitch, “Understanding Mediation’s Role in Preventive Diplomacy,” Negotiation Journal, vol. 12, no. 3, July 1996, pp. 241–58. 24. For analyses of these forms of power see Jeffrey Z. Rubin, Dynamics of Third Party Intervention: Kissinger in the Middle East (New York: Praeger, 1981), pp. 9–11; Ronald Fisher, “Negotiating Power: Getting and Using Inuence,” American Behavioral Scientist, vol. 27, no. 2, November–December 1983, p.153; Thomas Princen, Intermediaries in International Conicts, pp. 18–30; and Marieke Kleiboer, The Multiple Realities of International Mediation (Boulder: Lynne Rienner, 1998). 25. For discussion of decision and process control see J. W. Thibaut and L. Walker, Procedural Justice: A psychological Analysis (Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum, 1975). See also B. H. Sheppard, “Third Party Conict Intervention: A Procedural Framework,” Research in Organizational Behavior, vol. 6, 1984, pp. 141–90.

16

CHAPTER ONE

26. Donald Conlon, “The Mediation-Intravention Discussion: Toward an Integrative Perspective,” Negotiation Journal, vol. 7, no. 2, April 1988, p. 145. 27. Kristin Dobinson, Mediatory Power and Small States: The Case of Norway, M. A. Dissertation, University of Kent, 1995, p. 13. 28. Peter J. Carnevale, “Mediating from Strength,” in Jacob Bercovitch, ed., Studies in International Mediation: Essays in Honor of Jeffrey Z. Rubin (New York: Palgrave-Macmillan, 2002), p. 27. 29. Peter Carnevale, “Mediating from Strength,” p. 28. 30. Peter Carnevale, “Mediating from Strength,” p. 36. 31. James Lane, “The Emergence and Institutionalization of Third Party Roles in Conict,” in Dennis J. D. Sandole and Ingrid Sandole-Starotse, eds., Conict Management and Problem Solving: Interpersonal and International Applications (New York: New York University Press, 1987), p. 25. 32. Marieke Kleiboer, “Understanding Success and Failure of International Mediation,” Journal of Conict Resolution, vol. 10, no. 2, June 1996, p. 372. See also Jeffrey Z. Rubin, Dynamics of Third Party Intervention, pp. 9–11. 33. P. H. Gulliver, Disputes and Negotiations, p. 213. Harvey Waterman, “Political Order and the ‘Settlement’ of Civil Wars,” in Roy Licklider, ed., How Civil Wars End (New York: New York University Press, 1996) p. 292 observes that peace agreements “can be understood as the recreation of the conditions for a viable, common political order.” 34. Richard B. Bilder, “International Third-Party Dispute Settlement,” in Dennis J. D. Sandole and Ingrid Sandole-Starotse, eds., Conict Management and Problem Solving: Interpersonal and International Applications (New York: New York University Press, 1987), p. 209; and Bilder, “International Third Party Dispute Settlement,” Denver Journal of International Law, vol. 17, no. 3, Spring 1983, p. 494. 35. Christopher R. Mitchell, “The Motives of Mediation,” in Mitchell and Keith Webb, eds. New Approaches to International Mediation (New York: Greenwood Press, 1988), p. 39; Mitchell, “Civil Strife and the Involvement of External Parties,” International Studies Quarterly, vol. 14, no. 2, June 1970, pp. 166–195; David Carment and Patrick James, “Escalation of Ethnic Conict,” International Politics, vol. 35, no. 1, 1998, pp. 65–82; Frederic S. Pearson, “Dimensions of Conict Resolution in Ethno-political Disputes,” Journal of Peace Research, vol. 38, no. 3, 2001, pp. 275–87; and Michael E. Brown, “Internal Conict and International Action,” in Brown, ed., The International Dimensions of Internal War (Cambridge: MIT Press, 1996) pp. 604–27. 36. Daniel Lieberfeld, “Nelson Mandela: Partisan and Peacemaker,” Negotiation Journal, vol. 19, no. 3, July 2003, pp. 229–50. Cultural arguments inform current debates to forge indigenous mechanisms for conict management, see for instance, Ali Mazrui, “Africa: In Search of Self-Pacication,” African Affairs, vol. 93, no. 2, 1993, pp. 39–42; and Olusegun Obasanjo, “Preface,” in I. William Zartman and Francis Deng, eds. Conict Resolution in Africa (Washington, D.C.: The Brookings Institution, 1991), pp. xiii–xx; Adebayo Adedeji, “An Alternative for Africa,” Journal of Democracy, vol. 5, no. 4, 1985, pp. 19–32. 37. Hizkias Assefa, “The Challenge of Mediation of Internal Wars,” p. 211. 38. See in particular, Louis Kriesberg, “Formal and Quasi-Mediators in International Disputes: An Exploratory Analysis,” Journal of Peace Research, vol. 28, 1991, pp. 19–27; Kriesberg, “Coordinating Intermediary Peace Efforts,” Negotiation Journal, vol. 12, no. 3, October 1996, pp. 341–52; Larry A. Dunn and Kriesberg, “Mediating Intermediaries: Expanding Roles of Transnational Organizations,” in Jacob Bercovitch, Studies in International Mediation,

AFRICAN INTERVENERS IN EASTERN AFRICAN CIVIL CONFLICTS, INTRODUCTION

17

pp. 194–212; and Neil Saravanmutto, “What Role Can the Commonwealth Play in Conict Resolution?” The Round Table, no. 334, April 1995, pp. 145–58. 39. Christopher Mitchell, “External Peace-Making Initiatives and Intra-national Conict,” pp. 282–83; Nadim Rouhana, “Unofcial Third-Party Intervention in International Conict: Between Legitimacy and Disarray,” Negotiation Journal, vol. 11, no. 3, July 1995, pp. 255–70; and Bercovitch, “Introduction: Thinking about Mediation,” in Bercovitch, ed., Resolving International Conicts: The Theory and Practice of Mediation (Boulder: Lynne Rienner, 1996), pp. 1–9. For good critiques of this perspective see Keith Webb and others, “The Yugoslavian Conict, European Mediation, and the Contingency Model: A Critical Perspective,” in Jacob Bercovitch, ed., Resolving International Conicts: Theory and Practice of Mediation, pp. 171–89.

Chapter Two

Moi Mediates Uganda’s Civil War, 1985 Let historians and political analysts say of the agreement signed in Nairobi today that it has been made by men and women of visions who are true believers in peace.1 President Daniel Arap Moi, December 1985 Throughout the four months of negotiations, delegates stormed out of meetings with long and gloomy faces. Often the situation looked desperate. All that time, only [President Moi] held aloft the torch of hope . . . His endeavor to cement brotherly relations in Eastern Africa will certainly enter in the history books of Africa . . . We therefore suggest-and we make no apology-that President Moi be considered a candidate for the next Nobel Prize for Peace.2 Daily Nation, December 1985 Moi’s mediation of the Uganda conict is a big success for him and will contribute to his standing all over the world. His handling of the delicate and explosive negotiations is a demonstration of Kenya’s political maturity, marking a milestone in Kenya’s diplomacy.3 A Kenyan diplomat in Kampala, December 1985

Introduction African mediators are searching for effective institutional means to meet the challenges of escalating civil wars. These roles demand resources, time, and knowledge about parties, positions, and strategy. Mediating to reduce conict and build institutions, however, is not always a neat or expeditious process. As the above citations indicate, mediation roles compete (or coincide) with the search for national glory and international legitimacy. Mediators bask in the accolades of success, frequently before the ink dries on agreements. African mediators are invited in civil conicts marked by contests over identities, principles, and power. But intervention in these conicts tests the tenacity and

20

CHAPTER TWO

will of mediators, their preparedness and patience, and, more importantly, their organizational ability to mobilize incentives, frame procedural questions, and structure bargaining on substantive issues. The Uganda conict was an important case in the practice of African states mediating in civil wars of neighboring countries, marking the start in the gradual shift in norms about intervention in internal conicts. The Nairobi talks point to the conceptual issues of entry, motivation, and leverage, and their signicance in African mediation. They explain why and how the mediator intervened, the resources he drew from, and his conduct during various phases of the negotiations. Moi’s role in Uganda raises questions that help us to understand African mediators’ institutional sources of power and standing. Organizational power is the leverage mediators acquire from being invited to perform peacemaking tasks. It is principally an issue of institutional capacity and competence of mediators invited in conicts. In African cases, heads of states are an important component of mediation largely because protagonists value their roles in mobilizing resources to support mediation initiatives. Intervention by heads of state sustains the appearance of mediators’ effectiveness, but since, in practice, mediation processes are often protracted, this potential power is invariably dissipated in procedural problems. In particular, mediation roles do not compete with the burdens and responsibilities that consume heads of states. Additionally, mediation by heads of states with varying stakes in outcomes makes them vulnerable to a wide range of competing pressures that confound their capacity to control parties and events in civil conicts. These themes are treated in the context of the evolution of Uganda’s conict, the positions and strategies of major actors, the phases of the negotiations, and the outcomes of the Nairobi peace agreement. The conclusion revisits these themes in assessing Moi’s role as a mediator.

Background to Moi’s Mediation: Issues and Parties Postcolonial contests by ethnic and regional groups over power and resources forms the background to the Uganda conict. After independence in 1962, Uganda went through a series of constitutional crises that culminated in Idi Amin’s military coup in 1971, which ushered in an era of violence and insecurity. In 1979, Tanzania intervened militarily in Uganda, overthrew Amin, and put his exiled Ugandan opponents into power. But in 1980, the brief postAmin phase of stability ended with the return to power of the rst civilian

MOI MEDIATES UGANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1985

21

Prime Minister, Milton Obote, through a rigged election. Subsequently, a civil war ensued, pitting the Obote government against several internal insurgents dominated primarily by the National Resistance Movement (NRM) and its army, the National Resistance Army (NRA), led by Yoweri Museveni.4 The immediate cause of this conict was the collapse of Obote’s government through a July 1985 military coup led by Major General Tito Okello, the commander of the armed forces. Constituted as the Uganda National Liberation Army (UNLA), the Okello government sought to restore control by installing an eight-man Military Council and a civilian executive presidency. It also made plans for a constitutional conference of all political and military groups that would debate a national reconstruction program to return the country to civilian rule in twelve months.5 A lack of legitimacy undermined the Military Council. In his previous role as the commander of Obote’s army, Okello had led the anti-insurgency campaign against the NRM. Besides, the Okello regime could not shed its image as a continuation of northern domination by Acholi and Langi ethnic groups. The military’s role in atrocities conducted in the Luweero triangle near Kampala, where an estimated 300,000 people had lost their lives, compounded the legitimacy problems. Okello tried to exonerate the government from these human rights violations, but in Museveni’s oft-cited characterization, the Military Council was “part of an endless system which [had] been responsible for the massacre of one million Ugandans since 1962.”6 The military government’s immediate priority was to negotiate with assorted guerrilla factions, including former Amin’s supporters, that had sprang under Obote’s rule. An August 1985 agreement between the government and some of these groups led to their incorporation into the Okello government. The Military Council extended a similar olive branch to Museveni, asking him to join the “victory of the liberators.”7 But although the smaller military factions were receptive to incorporation, the NRM rejected government overtures and denounced the national reconciliation program. In rejecting the peace overtures, the NRM set two conditions for participation in the government. First, the Military Council had to disband its army and recruit a new national army composed primarily of NRA forces. Second, Museveni’s forces would receive an equal number of appointees on the governing Military Council. When Okello rejected these demands, Museveni raised the stakes, demanding to negotiate with Okello as head of the UNLA and not as head of state.8 The fundamental problem, Museveni asserted, was that the Military Council had failed to recognize the NRA’s role in Obote’s downfall: “Instead of calling us with something properly worked out, they

22

CHAPTER TWO

[military council] decided to work unilaterally. They went ahead and formed the military council and the government without consulting us. It is only when we started beating them that they realized the need to talk.”9 The standoff between the government composed of a coalition of northern ethnic groups and the NRM’s predominantly southern and western ethnic coalitions could hardly be described as a stalemate. As Zartman has noted, the idea of an untenable stalemate assumes an symmetry of conditions, where both parties are dissatised with the prevailing conditions and seek to break out of unilateral positions.10 Uganda’s civil war, however, more accurately resembled a soft stalemate, a uid condition of jostling for power and alliance-building in which parties uncertain of each other’s motives used the facade of negotiations to gauge their military and political strengths. Soft stalemates allow the parties to claim commitment to a peaceful solution even as they maneuver for political and military advantage.11 The government had an army of 20,000, the bulk of them undisciplined and demoralized former units of the disparate ghting groups. The NRA, on the other hand, had a more cohesive though small number of about 4,000 troops. In what was a de facto partitioned country, the government maintained control of the north and eastern parts, while the NRA controlled most of the economically productive south and west. Overall, as Mamdani notes, the government’s position was weaker: “The Okello regime wanted both power and peace. But its social base was too narrow: it could not have both. It had to choose. To keep power, it was willing to unite with all forces whether politically organized . . . or simply organized as armed gangs and allow them to maintain their organizational harmony . . . As the regime was transformed into a coalition of independent armed gangs, Kampala increasingly came to resemble Beirut, with each faction controlling its own territory, and the brutality of civil-military relations increasingly evoking comparison with Haiti.”12

The Search for a Mediator The search for a regional mediator in the Ugandan conict reected the asymmetry in power between the Okello’s government and Museveni’s NRM. Following the military coup, there was a good deal of posturing and competition for regional supporters to bolster the policy position of each party. Having embarked on a national reconstruction program of incorporating various military factions in the interim government, the Military Council saw the role of an external mediator as limited to legitimizing its domestic strategy. The NRM, on the other hand, viewed any potential mediator in terms of putting pressure

MOI MEDIATES UGANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1985

23

on the Military Council to accept power-sharing negotiations. These contrasting positions transformed the search for a mediator into a broader mobilization for regional support and advantage.13 Both sides initially looked to Tanzania as the potential mediator primarily because of President Julius Nyerere’s dominant role in Amin’s downfall and subsequent contribution to Uganda’s reconstruction. Knowledge of the two leaders placed Nyerere in good stead to be the mediator. As one observer noted: “[Nyerere] knows Lt. Gen. Okello and Museveni, both having lived in exile in Dar es Salaam during Amin’s tenure, and both having formed part of the leadership of the forces gathered under the wings of the Tanzanian army, which put Amin to ight in 1979.”14 Following the coup, the Military Council sought Tanzania’s diplomatic recognition and military support to consolidate its position. Okello also appealed to Nyerere to obtain Museveni’s participation in the interim government on terms that would not compromise the Military Council’s authority. Nyerere took a half-hearted approach, offering to send a military delegation to “investigate” the government’s military needs and promising to intercede with Museveni about the NRM’s possible participation in the interim government. In midAugust 1985, Museveni boycotted two meetings in Dar es Salaam intended to reconcile him with Okello.15 Nyerere’s lukewarm efforts resulted from his lack of interest in Ugandan affairs after years of futile involvement in restoring order among the fractious post-Amin leaderships. More important, in August 1985, Nyerere announced his intention to step down from the presidency later that year. According to a Tanzanian ofcial: Nyerere was less enthusiastic about Tanzania’s intervention. He had just announced his retirement from national politics and thus would not have wanted his departure to be overshadowed by entanglement in Uganda politics. More serious, the lesson of our earlier involvement was that the only effective way to intervene in Uganda was to take sides. We safely opted to be neutral, observant, and cautious.16

As Nyerere became less relevant to the conict, both parties turned to Kenya. Although Kenya had maintained an ambivalent position toward the coup, President Moi took an active role as a mediator following the abortive reconciliation meetings in Tanzania. In mid-August 1985, Okello held exploratory meetings with Moi in Nairobi seeking Kenya’s support and recognition. But these meetings yielded mixed results. While obtaining Kenya’s pledge to maintain economic and trade relations with Uganda, Okello failed to get Moi to persuade Museveni to return to Kampala for bilateral talks on sharing power.

24

CHAPTER TWO

For the Nairobi-based NRM, Kenya offered the ideal venue for negotiations because of its geographical proximity and communication facilities. Moreover, unlike Nyerere’s history of intervention in Uganda, Moi appeared to be more neutral. Yet the NRM’s presence in Nairobi promised to offer Moi leverage over its leadership. These factors combined to place Moi at the center of the conict.17 According to one participant: Moi was unable to convince Museveni to accept Okello’s terms of cooptation. He tried to arrange meetings between representatives of Museveni and the military council in Nairobi, but the NRM was convinced that serious talks would start when Okello acknowledged that he was just a leader of a military faction, not Uganda’s head of state. But for Museveni to sustain Kenya’s goodwill, he had to meet Okello halfway. The challenge to Moi was to create sufcient incentives for the two sides to reconcile their differences in a neutral venue before the war resumed in earnest.18

Moi’s motives for mediation revolved around numerous geopolitical and personal considerations. Long edged out of leadership by Nyerere’s regional stature, Moi saw the intervention in Uganda as a means to reclaim Kenya’s regional position as a regional leader.19 Most Kenyan leaders portrayed the Uganda mediation as an opportunity to demonstrate, in the words of the Standard, “Moi’s well-known statesmanship and mediation prowess . . . Moi is an astute pan-Africanist who deplores enmity and rancor among fellow Africans. His only holy war has been tirelessly directed at the evil of tribalism whatever form it might take in his own country and elsewhere.”20 During Moi’s OAU chairmanship in 1981, the organizations mediated the Chadian civil war and send a peacekeeping mission to restore peace. Facing various obstacles, the OAU withdrew in June 1982.21 In light of this experience, Kenyan newspapers described the Uganda intervention as a way to restore Moi’s stature and prevent Uganda from following the Chadian route. As a government minister remarked: “Everything must be done to ensure that Uganda does not deteriorate into a ‘Lebanon in Africa.’ One Chad is enough.”22 Moi also wanted to prevent Uganda’s civil war from spilling into Kenya. Ugandan instability, government ofcials reiterated, created refugees who consumed enormous resources, strained social services, and caused domestic instability through cross-border raids and the spread of rearms. Lastly, Moi perceived Uganda’s importance as a trading partner and a vital transport corridor for Kenyan goods destined to markets in Rwanda, Burundi, Sudan, and beyond.23 Personal and national interests coalesced around normative terms of “neighborly” and “brotherly” concerns ostensibly rooted in Africa’s rich traditional social structure. As one observer noted: “Arbitration by sagacious elders

MOI MEDIATES UGANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1985

25

and other mediators, who have no stone to grind in regard to the matter at issue, has always been among the tenets of African tradition. It was in fact through such processes that our forefathers were able to curb intertribal or clan warfare.”24 Some Ugandan parties saw Moi’s mediation as an enormous responsibility. Okello, for instance, commended Moi and the Kenyan people for the “sacrices made to have the Kenyan head of state personally to chair the talks.”25 More graphically, Moi described his intervention in terms of “of loving thy neighbor as you love yourself. If peace, love, and unity, were to be exported, Kenya would have to export them to Uganda.”26 Furthermore, the parties viewed Moi’s decision to host the talks as an opportunity that would endow the mediator signicant power. One of the negotiators for the Okello government pointed to these sources of power: “Neither the NRA which is enjoying Kenya’s hospitality, nor the Uganda government which is steadily forging improved relations with the Kenya government can afford to ignore President Moi’s efforts in the search for a solution.”27 Moi faced a difcult task because of the conicting goals of both sides. The Uganda government looked to Moi to legitimate its internal reforms, a fact underscored by one of its negotiators: “Kenya was prepared to wholeheartedly support a government that was in control of Kampala so long as it had a reasonable program of national reconciliation. It was willing to step into the talks because a working government was in place, prepared to be more conciliatory than any other governments that had been there before . . . Moi had indicated that the Okello government was on the right path in its efforts to genuinely bring about reconciliation and end conicts which have dogged Ugandan politics for decades.”28 The NRM, on the other hand, saw the mediator’s role as assisting in a dialogue about power sharing and restoration of stability. Instead of dialogue about incorporation and accommodation, Museveni expected discussions among equal military partners. While the government talked of sharing cabinet and military seats, the NRM framed the problem in the comprehensive terms of security, respect, and equality. As an NRM’s spokesman put it: “The NRM wants the mediator to note that if General Okello comes to Nairobi respecting us as equal military partners, we will reciprocate. If he comes as head of state, he has to tell us what he is actually heading.”29

Setting the Agenda Having accepted the mediation, Moi’s rst challenge was to manage the parties’ competing expectations about his role. By accepting the task, Moi put

26

CHAPTER TWO

himself in the invidious position of trying to reconcile the government’s view of the negotiations, as an extension of its national reconciliation program, and the NRM’s preference for comprehensive negotiations. Drafting the agenda gave preliminary indications of Moi’s ability to control the negotiating process and to secure the commitment of disputants to a negotiated settlement. “Far from being a burden,” Umbricht states, “setting the agenda, is a welcome way for the mediator to point to the substance of the negotiations . . . The agenda is important in dispute negotiations because it allows the parties to know in advance of any negotiating meetings what issues are likely to be discussed. It is the mediator’s responsibility to prepare the draft agenda. It should constitute a mirror of the priorities which the mediator considers fundamental and which he would wish the parties to consider.”30 Moi chaired the talks on setting the agenda that began on August 27, after both parties announced an informal cessation of hostilities to create a “climate conducive to the peace process.” But conicts over representation and the identity of negotiating teams overshadowed the talks. These conicts mirrored deep disagreements on issues of legitimacy and recognition of the parties’ needs, interests, and values. Representation was as much a question of standing and trust between the parties as it was about the substance of issues to be negotiated. The NRM established the link between the identity of the negotiators and the framing of issues when it insisted that Museveni negotiate with Okello. From the outset, Museveni emphasized the conict’s military dimension: “The NRM is interested in military rather than political talks. This is why we insist on talking with General Tito Okello himself. We think that if General Okello came to Nairobi and the talks took place, the NRA, would, if possible agree to a cease-re. The rest of the peace talks would follow. If the cease-re talks succeed, the NRA-NRM would not nd any problems holding peace talks in Kampala.”31 Focusing on the military aspects underscored the NRM’s quest for recognition as an equal partner to the government and discredited Okello’s political reforms. Yet to the government, consumed by restoring internal stability, Okello seemed more useful in Kampala than at the negotiating table in Nairobi. The mediator exerted pressure on the NRM to compromise on a government delegation led by Colonel Wilson Toko, the Military Council’s deputy chairman and Olara Otunnu, the foreign minister.32 In Moi’s estimation, the NRM’s xation with equality and respect were merely procedural problems that would be surmounted once the actual talks began.33 Museveni agreed to negotiate with the Toko-Otunnu delegation, but questions of standing and identity of representatives lingered throughout the talks. The jostling for recognition and legitimacy set the tone for dening the level

MOI MEDIATES UGANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1985

27

of trust between the parties. In subsequent negotiations, the NRM harped on Okello’s absence from the Nairobi talks as a sign of the government’s unwillingness to take the negotiations seriously. This view was also expressed by a newspaper commentary: A critical analysis of the government delegation . . . shows that it has been incapacitated by the lack of authority since it cannot take decisions, however simple, without rst making consultations at home. It lacks men like the Chief of the Defense Staff Lt. General Bazillio Okello or the Chairman of the Military Council General Tito Okello who can make decisions that are authoritative and binding to the Military Council. The delegation should include people who have been actually on the frontlines, instead of people who were previously occupying executive ofces and who cannot talk the language Museveni understands.34

Equally signicant, Moi’s pressure on the NRM to negotiate with a low-level government delegation reinforced Museveni’s perception of his partiality toward Okello, a view that was exacerbated by Okello’s many publicized summits with Moi in Nairobi during the negotiations. The partial solution to the composition of the delegations did not resolve the wrangles over the agenda. The agenda-setting talks adjourned after only two days following the NRM’s demand for the dissolution of the Okello administration, the appointment of new leaders by the negotiating teams, and a large share in a future army before beginning of the talks. In view of the widely divergent positions on how to proceed, Moi prevailed on the parties to accept an interim agenda that comprised two parts. First, the Nairobi talks would seek to reach agreement on the Military Council’s composition, disarmament and cease-re, and the creation of a national army. Second, a subsequent conference in Kampala of all political factions would ratify the Nairobi peace agreement and prepare for the adoption of a constitution and elections. Through this approach, Moi attempted to address the NRM’s demand for military talks, but along more manageable lines such as sharing of cabinet seats rather than the contentious issues of historical wrongs and governing principles. Also this focus would not undercut the Okello government’s national reconciliation program through incorporating dissident military factions. In Moi’s calculation, if the Nairobi talks resolved the conict’s military issues, Ugandan parties would build on the political momentum to start internal reconstruction on their own. Behind this mediation strategy was Moi’s desire to minimize Kenya’s role to prescribe future institutional mechanisms and to avoid the impression of interference in Uganda’s domestic affairs.35 An agenda provides a conceptual map, delineating the direction that the parties are bound to take. It is at the same time a framework that tentatively commits warring parties toward common objectives. Despite the determination

28

CHAPTER TWO

to enlarge the area of common ground and improve mutual condence, the prenegotiation talks on the agenda gave the Ugandan parties a general procedural direction rather than a consensus document for deliberation. While most authors point to the importance of an agenda that allows room for the belligerents to make tradeoffs, the Uganda agenda lacked the ingredient that McMullen describes as the mediator’s “working hypothesis of the nature of the settlement.”36 Even less clear from the agenda was whether the negotiators would discuss issues in a sequential order, reaching incremental agreements on some before proceedings to others, or whether the parties would consider all the issues as a single negotiating package. Fisher suggests that parties in intractable conicts can “fractionate” the conict by discussing all the issues in the dispute simultaneously and minimizing the chances of limited agreement or dening the issues in sequence and deciding on them separately.37 Severe conicts about the agenda’s components subsequently impeded the Uganda negotiations.

Nairobi Phase One: September 3–October 12, 1985 The Nairobi talks began on September 3, 1985, amidst the expiry of the informal and tenuous cease-re that the parties had announced in August. In light of lingering mistrust, Moi conceded that negotiations for a cease-re would be difcult. Instead, he appealed “to all peace-loving Ugandans to desist from any acts which may lead to the loss of life. The two parties should strictly observe the cease-re to enable the talks to succeed.”38 The mediator’s public pleas for peace became a dominant theme throughout the negotiations. But as these pleas fell on deaf ears, the parties’ sincerity of purpose, which had characterized the prenegotiations phase, began to fade, and created the perception that the negotiations were in disarray. Moi’s opening remarks urged Uganda to “rethink the whole question of leadership and adopt a new approach whereby those in power will respect the sanctity of human life and justice.” He also said there was an urgent need for a peaceful solution to avert further bloodshed and restore peace and security. To exert authority on what was a vitriolic public contest, Moi implored the parties to nd peace through quiet diplomacy and to refrain from conducting the talks through the press until they had reached denite conclusions.39 In early September 1985, the rst round of talks offered the parties the opportunity to restate their basic positions on power-sharing in the Military Council, disarmament, and cease-re. The NRM proposed sharing an equal number of seats on a 12-man military council, including the vice-chairmanship

MOI MEDIATES UGANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1985

29

for Museveni. Further, it suggested that the government’s cooptation of armed factions and political parties that participated in the 1980 elections be postponed until the establishment of a new Military Council. The NRM agreed to negotiate a cease-re on condition that it would retain the bulk of its army as the bedrock for a future unied army. In the interim, the NRM proposed that the government should desist from importing arms, recruiting soldiers, and prosecuting security personnel who had committed crimes since the coup. These demands sought to discredit the government’s post-coup programs and gave the NRM inuence in future arrangements. The government rejected the principle of equal representation on the Military Council and offered the NRM a third of the seats excluding the vice-chairmanship. The government deferred the decision on representation of political parties, but maintained that armed factions needed to be represented in the Military Council to ensure peace and reconciliation. With regard to a cease-re, the government favored negotiations after the talks had concluded issues such as disarmament and the creation of a new ethnically balanced army under foreign supervision. The government contended that disarmament was necessary to “enable Ugandans to discuss the future of their country in a free atmosphere without the fear of coercion.”40 On September 5, 1985, the parties postponed the negotiations at the Uganda government delegation’s request to allow time for consultation in Kampala. As in the prenegotiation phase, the acrimony that occurred during the rst round symbolized the rift over issues of control of state power. As Mwagiru notes, “whereas the government’s preoccupation was with looking for ways to render the NRM force ineffective, the NRM was concerned with maintaining its strength, which would continue to ensure a strong bargaining position during the negotiations and after.”41 The NRM took advantage of the postponement to launch a successful military offensive against government positions in western and central Uganda, thus expanding the territory under its control. Accusing the government of recruiting soldiers from Idi Amin’s army, the NRM claimed that it had a “sacred duty to protect innocent civilians from the machinations of the military junta.”42 The renewed ghting tested Moi’s mediation skills. As both sides maneuvered to gain military advantage, Moi sought to get the parties back to the table. Continued hostilities, however, dampened the chances of resuming the talks in the absence of independent and creative initiatives. Throughout September 1985, Moi appealed to “all those involved in the ghting to realize that thousands of innocent Uganda are losing their lives . . . It is a high time the people of Uganda were given a chance to settle down in peace and develop their country.”43 When it appeared that neither parties was listening, Kenya’s

30

CHAPTER TWO

Foreign Minister Elijah Mwangale put a brave face on the impact of the war on the integrity of the Moi’s mediation: “The ongoing ghting has nothing to do with the talks. After all the Ugandan parties have been ghting for the last four years. This is nothing new.”44 As moral exhortation seemed to yield few results, Moi enlisted Nyerere’s support in late September 1985. In a meeting that also included Okello, Moi sought Nyerere’s intervention to break the deadlock. But Nyerere did not provide much assistance. While Moi expected the summit to endorse a unied approach to the cessation of hostilities before the talks resumed, Nyerere countered that this was an issue that needed to be negotiated by the principal parties and not by regional heads of state. Furthermore, although Moi remained convinced that the Military Council’s approach to national reconciliation was sound, Nyerere dominated the summit by condemning Okello’s integration of former Amin’s soldiers into the government.45 As Nyerere warned after the meeting: “The call by the government for the return of all Ugandans in exile is clearly a positive one, an essential step toward building internal stability. But the presence in the army of Amin’s soldiers will complicate the Nairobi negotiations by introducing an element of instability within Uganda, and pose a threat to neighboring countries. We cannot forget the belligerent attitude the Amin people had to their neighbors, invading or threatening both Kenya and Tanzania.”46 In late September 1985, Emmanuel Nsubuga, Kampala’s Roman Catholic cardinal, proposed a compromise that included the enlargement of the Military Council from twelve to twenty-three seats. This expansion would create enough seats for the government, smaller armed factions, political parties, and the NRM. Under this proposal, the NRM would have seven seats, while the government would have eight seats (including the chairman), and the remainder would be allocated to other groups.47 Cardinal Nsubuga’s proposal broadened the room for possible agreement by enlarging the zone of tradeoffs. Additionally, by being more inclusive, the proposal changed the number of parties and sought to change the conict’s bilateral nature. This compromise enabled the parties to resume negotiations on September 26, 1985, but the second round began without Museveni who was piqued by Okello’s unwillingness to lead the government delegation. However, Okello attended regional summits in Nairobi, where Moi treated him as the legitimate head of state.48 The NRM’s spokesman explained the withdrawal: “Museveni led the NRM delegation on previous occasions hoping that the military council leader Okello would do the same. He has refused to lead the delegation when the Okello government is only sending a deputy to Nairobi.”49 A Ugandan newspaper remarked accurately that as the talks went on, “the absence of the

MOI MEDIATES UGANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1985

31

two giants [Museveni and Okello] at the same table partially affected people’s minds about the success of the talks.”50 In the reconvened negotiations, the NRM endorsed cardinal Nsubuga’s proposal for the Military Council’s seat expansion to twenty-two, but was adamant on the two main parties sharing seven seats each while one seat each would be reserved for political parties and other armed groups. Further, the NRM expressed its willingness to accept Okello as head of state, if the government conceded the vice-chairmanship of the Military Council to the NRM. The government countered by suggesting a total of twenty seats be divided with six seats allotted to the NRM, nine for the government (including the chairman), two for the Federal Democratic Movement (FDM), and one each for the Uganda Freedom Movement (UFM), Uganda National Rescue Front (UNRF), and Former Uganda National Army (FUNA). In omitting political parties from the list, the government contended that once military matters had been resolved in Nairobi, other political questions would be discussed in Kampala.51 Disagreements on disarmament stymied power sharing negotiations. The government proposed a joint cease-re that would involve a cessation of ghting and disarmament of all forces. More important, the success of the disarmament, the government said, would depend on inviting troops from Kenya, Tanzania, and the United Kingdom to monitor the process and to serve as peacekeeping forces during the formation of a new national army which would include all armed factions. The government believed that “the exclusion of some groups from the political process has bedeviled the country’s recent history and this mistake should not be repeated in Nairobi.”52 Reecting its increasing battleeld gains, the NRM rejected disarmament arguing that the “military junta is part and parcel of the system that has been oppressing Ugandans for the last 23 years and has inherited the permanent organs of the state such as the police, prisons, and security services . . . Therefore talk of disarming only the soldiers would leave the military junta effectively armed while the NRA is completely disarmed.” The NRM then proposed that before cease-re negotiations, the government would have to stop recruiting and arming former Amin soldiers and to cease mobilizing and deploying its troops without rst seeking the NRA’s agreement.53 The NRM took an equally belligerent stance on the question of the formation of a future national army, claiming that since it played the “dominant role in precipitating the collapse of the dictator Obote’s murderous regime,” its army was the embodiment of commitment, patriotism, and discipline.” Unlike the government’s cooperation with previous regimes, the NRM touted its unblemished record as a foundation for new security forces:

32

CHAPTER TWO

Since Uganda will need an army and we have already in the eld a well-organized, disciplined, motivated, and a pro-people army, we believe that our army [the NRA] should in the interest of the country, be utilized in the formation of the new Ugandan army by integrating it in part or in whole with good elements in the UNLA, and other ghting groups. However, we believe that all those groups which have been armed by the military junta since 27 July, 1985 should be disarmed in the interest of peace.54

The precedent of Tanzania’s role in Uganda’s domestic conict formed the grounds for rejecting foreign troops as the NRA claimed that: “Experience has proven that foreign troops brought in for peacekeeping purposes have a tendency to take sides with one side of the parties in the conict.”55 Appended to the NRM’s proposals was a series of political and economic reconstruction measures. The scheme contained a human rights component that proposed “appointment of an international commission of inquiry to investigate the genocidal practices and crimes committed during the Amin and Obote regimes for trial and punishment.”56 The NRM’s proposals conated questions of power-sharing with the principled ones of legitimacy, making tradeoffs exceedingly difcult. In eight difcult days of bargaining in September 1985, the two sides could not bridge the gap as the NRM persisted in challenging government policies and proposals. Even though the government offered to disarm its security services and to rescind most decrees and political appointments, the talks deadlocked on October 3, 1985 when both sides requested an indenite postponement to enable them to hold further consultations.57

The October 1985 Interregnum The adjournment emanated from deep-seated disagreements in the Uganda government’s negotiating team about how to approach major questions. But it also revealed unresolved procedural issues such as the mediator’s lack of a clear negotiating strategy. The talks had plodded on without a denite working agreement on whether items would be treated singly or as a whole. The essence of fractionating intractable conicts is that it permits aggregation of big issues into manageable parts, enabling concession-making to proceed as parties build on small agreements to work toward larger ones. Such a sequenced strategy, most practitioners contend, enables the parties to nd common ground and to improve mutual condence as they move from easy to most difcult issues. Such a strategy also allows the mediator to force the parties to advance through “interim solutions” which form the bedrock for comprehensive agreements.58

MOI MEDIATES UGANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1985

33

Procedural wrangles, stemming from confusion about how the parties would proceed with concession-making came to a head in October 1985. With Moi anxious to show results, Kenyan Foreign Minister Elijah Mwangale claimed after the adjournment that “80 per cent of the groundwork on all the issues had been settled.”59 Yet Mwangale was masking divisions about how the parties measured success. The government, which viewed negotiations as an entire package, would not consider the process as a success until all the issues had been settled. As Colonel Toko stated: The point we have to remember here is that the composition of the Military Council, as far as the government is concerned, was tied to a package of other things. That package includes the formation of the national army, disarmament and cease-re. So we look at it as a package. Therefore, it is no use taking the composition of the Council as a question separate from the rest of the issues . . . Because of the package approach, you cannot seek a few elements of the peace talks and say: these are the ones we have agreed upon, let us sign them while we continue to talk about the remaining items. It has to be a total package.60

The NRM’s position, on the other hand, emphasized incremental decisions beginning with the Military Council’s composition and later followed by other issues. As Museveni stated: Our demand for half of the seats as a condition for joining the government is not a misplaced priority. Power sharing is the heart of these negotiations. We will only agree to a formula that makes a break with the past of failed alliances. Having been betrayed time and again in the past, the people of Uganda are not going to accept a settlement that could perpetuate the same problems of insecurity, misuse of the army, corruption, and murder that have been the order of the day for the past 23 years. The NRM will not allow such a situation to happen again.61

Contributing to the perception of a confused negotiating process was the fact that the parties had ignored Moi’s entreaties not to conduct the talks in the press. The parties’ use of the media to score propaganda points and to strengthen the loyalty of their followers gathered momentum as the talks stalled. Assefa counsels that it may be prudent for the mediator to withdraw his services if parties insist on publicity that could endanger the viability and integrity of the peace process.62 But in the real world, anxiety about the success of peace talks forms a crucial part of negotiations conducted in the glare of publicity. Civil conict mediators operate in contexts where concerns and expectations of larger audiences outside the negotiating parties feature in building the momentum for negotiated settlements. The Ugandan public wanted Moi to halt the violence. For this reason, the Nairobi impasse, compounded by increased military confrontation, created what a Ugandan commentator referred to as

34

CHAPTER TWO

the “bafing discrepancy between what is transpiring at the negotiating table in Nairobi and what is actually happening on the battleeld in various parts of the country.”63 The widespread view that the Nairobi negotiations had failed to produce results grew among Uganda’s war-weary population. Umbricht believes that, although one of the well-trodden paths to failure in mediation results from too much public discussion of the issues in dispute, the public has a legitimate interest in the status of negotiations, particularly in the face of an escalating civil war that touches the lives of millions of people.64 This is the view that a Ugandan newspaper echoed graphically: “Ugandans are not demanding to know what exactly is going on at the round table in Harambee House [Nairobi]. A father-to-be does not demand to know exactly what is going on in the maternity ward as the mother-to-be is giving birth. But he has all the right to be informed by the midwife about developments taking place. Ugandans are asking to be informed of developments in which their future is being discussed.”65 Mediators’ roles grow gradually from largely passive to more active ones when they accumulate information about the disputes and disputants. For Moi, the learning process translated into a shift from what was previously an endorsement of the Okello government’s policies toward a more evenhanded policy to both parties. Moi’s letter to the parties in mid-October 1985 sought to apportion blame. It called on Museveni’s forces to stop shelling government military positions and for the government to punish undisciplined soldiers in its ranks. But Moi also continued to plead for peace: “Strict observance of a cease-re is necessary to give some relief to the longsuffering people of Uganda and render sincerity and credibility to the parties in the peace talks.”66 Moi’s case for a cease-re also became less credible with widespread reports of the Ugandan government’s involvement in human rights atrocities. The Minister for Internal Affairs, Paul Ssemogerere, conrmed human rights violations by undisciplined military forces and attributed the insecurity to the lack of progress in Nairobi: “the indenite postponement of talks means that security has also been postponed.”67 As a Ugandan participant pointed out, the mediator’s woes went beyond the question of a cease-re: The issue was becoming the credibility of the mediation process itself. Here was Moi making such distraught appeals for a cease-re, often in Kenyan public meetings than at the negotiating table because the talks were always deadlocked. But deep inside, he knew that there was not going to be a cease-re as long as the government’s marauding army was running amok in the countryside and urban areas causing untold suffering to innocent civilians. If Moi condemned the behavior of government troops, he would undercut Okello’s negotiating position, but the option of condemning both parties for violence was equally untenable after the government publicly admitted that its forces were responsible for most of the

MOI MEDIATES UGANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1985

35

violence. It would have been hard for the mediator to come out and simply say: the Okello government is made up of a bunch of thugs.68

The NRM took advantage of the Nairobi deadlock to consolidate its gains on the battleeld, projecting its military role as a “sacred duty to protect innocent Ugandans.”69 The NRA made considerable progress in October 1985, capturing major towns in southwestern Uganda and blocked major roads into the capital. In contrast to the notoriety for brutalizing civilians by government forces, the disciplined-NRA established relative calm in areas they captured, particularly the Luweero triangle.70 Okello’s independence-day address on October 10, 1985 admitted the government’s loss of moral and military authority. To stabilize Uganda, he noted, “we have called on the NRA on numerous occasions urging them to come forward and to hold talks as Ugandan patriots so as give Uganda a chance to focus on future goals. They have refused.”71 The government’s chief negotiator, Colonel Toko expressed similar pessimism, stating that although the Military Council wanted a cease-re, it had “reached the conclusion that the NRM is not interested in any cease-re which is the most important step for any negotiations to continue.”72

Nairobi Phase Two: October 28–December 17, 1985 Insecurity formed the backdrop for the resumption of the talks on October 28, 1985. The adjournment had allowed the NRM to strengthen its military positions and its psychological assault against what its spokesman described as the “criminal alliance in Kampala.”73 The euphoria that had characterized the start of the talks had dissipated in a welter of confusion and seemingly unbridgeable differences. The rst phase had been characterized by the mediator’s lack of independent initiatives, to check the deteriorating military situation or to produce sufcient momentum at the talks to preempt military escalation. As the conict over the agenda demonstrated, salient aspects of the negotiations had been consigned to chance, permitting procedural questions to distract from substance. While the mediator’s role had gradually shifted from assisting a sovereign state to end internal instability to mediating between relatively equal military partners, little had changed in organizational leverage over the process and parties. Where the stalemate demanded an aggressive mediator with the power to proffer alternative approaches and to commit parties to incremental agreements, Moi remained a mere observer, chairing a round table conference in which the participants, for the most part, talked past each other. In the midst of deep

36

CHAPTER TWO

mistrust, Moi was largely content with having provided the parties with a negotiating site. In the place of leadership on key issues, Moi sent desperate messages to the belligerents to “stop killing innocent children.”74 With his reputation and control of the negotiations threatened by the intensifying war, Moi tried to recapture control of the mediation process. On the eve of the third round in October 1985, he again invited Nyerere to Nairobi for a meeting about the Ugandan peace talks. At this summit, both conferred with Okello about Uganda’s deteriorating situation and reached a consensus that Okello would attend the resumed talks to lend them more authority. This was an important concession since it resolved the problem of constant adjournments that had dogged the talks. Apart from Museveni’s boycott of the talks, Okello’s absence at the table had resulted in delays and postponements as the low-level negotiators shuttled to Kampala for consultations with their superiors.75 In another indication of determination to provide strong leadership, Moi threatened to end his efforts if the protagonists did not take the talks seriously: If the Nairobi peace talks fail this time, I will never allow Kenya to be used as a negotiating base for such talks. Both delegations must have made up their minds by now whether or not they want law and order to be restored in Uganda. They are coming here and they must realize that I do not want any more adjournments or consultations. I am tired of these consultations, in fact the fourth round will be my last time to chair the peace talks. They either come to an understanding this time or take their differences to London or New York.76

Further, he intimated that he would expel all Ugandan exiles from Nairobi: “Kenya is not going to be destabilised by petty differences of factions belonging to Okello and Museveni. I am not interested in factions. I am only interested in unity in Uganda.”77 Moi backed his threat to withdraw from the talks by proposing a new procedure to speed the deliberations and to correct some of the aws in earlier rounds. The strategy entailed a series of separate talks between Moi, Museveni, and Okello to reach common ground on substantive issues. Separate talks with the parties overcame the nagging problem of negotiating authority since it involved the top leadership. They also afforded the mediators the ability to control the ow of communication and exchange of information.78 The other innovation concerned the setting up two joint committees, one charged with disarmament and security, and the other with drafting the nal agreement. The committees constituted the second tier of the negotiating framework, reaching consensus on key issues before presenting them for ratication in joint plenary meetings. Fundamentally, negotiating by committees overcame the conict about whether the parties would proceed through interim

MOI MEDIATES UGANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1985

37

or comprehensive packages. Moreover, the intimate nature of committee work created a rapport among a core group of negotiators that most participants acknowledged was missing from previous sessions.79 Museveni and Okello established the terms of the debate in public interviews, setting the tone for the nal phase of the negotiations. Museveni expressed the NRM’s bottom line: “All we want is equal distribution of power. We want a lasting peaceful solution in Uganda. We further demand that Amin’s soldiers be disarmed. They are a defeated army. They have no cause to hold guns and harass Ugandans that drove them from power in 1979.”80 Okello, on the other hand, spoke of the government’s commitment to peace and Museveni’s recalcitrance: “It is unfortunate that members of the NRA have not responded to the call to return home . . . The people must know that Museveni is not ghting against Okello but rather against the people of Uganda . . . Museveni should realize that peace cannot come to Uganda through the barrel of the gun.”81 On October 28, 1985, Moi set up the rst meeting between Okello and Museveni. The government made a major concession by offering the NRM the position of vice-chairmanship and an equal number of seats on the Military Council.82 But the government predicated this concession on agreement on an “an absolute cease-re and a halt to further bloodshed before the peace talks continue.”83 Additionally, the government still insisted on an immediate and comprehensive disarmament prior to the formation of a new army and the intervention of foreign peacekeepers arguing that a “bona de multinational assistance invited by Ugandans to monitor the process of disarmament and the building of a new national army poses no threat to our national sovereignty.”84 The NRA proposed the formation of a new, broad-based army, with a nucleus consisting of an equal number of ofcers from the government and NRM and by reiterating that peace did not require complete disarmament. On foreign participation, the NRM proposed that “friendly countries, Kenya, Tanzania, Australia or Canada should only send observers to monitor the integration of the armies . . . We do not believe that foreign peacekeeping forces can be effective, as history has shown. Moreover, such foreign peacekeeping forces would impinge on the sovereignty of our country.”85 Gaps in positions persisted with regard to the participation of other groups in the government and the military. In previous rounds, the NRM had accepted participation of all other ghting groups, except those linked to Amin’s former army, FUNA. At the start of the second phase of the negotiations, the NRM changed its position, arguing that since most groups had declared war on it, they had forfeited their identity and the privilege to be represented as separate entities on the council. Consequently, “the NRM should jointly form a military council consisting initially of seven NRA members and seven junta members

38

CHAPTER TWO

under the chairmanship of General Tito Okello as Head of State. The military council would thereafter consider co-opting any person from those groups who can usefully serve on the military council.”86 As the joint committees were negotiating over disarmament terms and the shape of a future army in November 1985, Museveni announced the establishment of a three-tiered interim administration in “zones liberated by the NRA which would provide services pending an agreement with the ruling military junta in Kampala.”87 The move formalized the NRM’s military gains, but the government saw the announcement’s timing as a challenge to the Nairobi talks and used it to portray Museveni’s intransigence: Museveni is demonstrating his total disregard for the peace process. His timing of the so-called appointments comes at a time when an agreement is about to be concluded. It is also clear that Museveni knows that this fourth round of Nairobi talks are to be the nal round and he wants to disrupt them so that he can continue with his warlike activities . . . With Museveni’s perpetual shifting of earlier agreed-to positions it would now appear that he would not honor the nal agreement to which the President [Moi], the Government and the people of Kenya have so far patiently contributed and continue to contribute so selessly.88

The draft committees hit another snag when the NRA demanded control of major positions in the defense establishment, including the Ministry of Defense and Chief of Staff of the army. According to its delegates, the Ministry of Defense in addition to the vice-chairmanship would counterbalance the UNLA’s chairmanship of the Military Council; furthermore, denying it the position “would leave the NRA out of the country’s defense decision-making system.”89 Colonel Toko spoke to Museveni’s seemingly endless demands: The latest demands of the NRA clearly indicate that they cannot possibly be serious. Museveni started off by demanding peace. Everybody kept telling us if you give them four seats they will accept to come to the Council. They were given four, then ve, then six, and now seven. Then he says: ‘We want the vice-chairmanship.’ Then he says he now wants these positions in the defense ministry: minister of defense and chief of staff. As if that was not enough, Museveni now says that in the event the chairman of the Council is permanently incapacitated, the vice-chairman should automatically assume power.90

Despite the NRM’s escalating demands, negotiations in the committees yielded progress on most questions. Participants in these discussions recalled that the committee framework produced better working relationships than before. In previous talks, negotiators crowded issues in long and unproductive sessions. For the drafting committee, especially, it was easier for the negotiators to esh out the language over issues that already had been agreed upon at higher levels.91 By mid-November 1985, the negotiating committees had reached a draft

MOI MEDIATES UGANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1985

39

agreement that was ratied by the Military Council and the NRM. Moi presided over a nal plenary session of both parties that put the nal touches on the agreement and scheduled the signing ceremony for December 3, 1985.92 The NRM’s belligerence in Uganda and Nairobi eclipsed progress in the talks. The NRM continued to lay a long siege on two major government barracks in western Uganda and, on the eve of the plenary session, Museveni declared that the NRM’s aim was to take Kampala by force if the talks failed: “It is obvious that [Kampala] is our immediate target for we will achieve victory either by peace or by our normal means which we have been using for the past four years.”93 Museveni’s belligerence forced more government concessions. It also fostered internal dissension in the Military Council, which affected the signing of the agreement. In late November 1985, a coalition of military groups demanded the “current Nairobi talks limit themselves to bring the NRA-NRM to the proposed National Peace Conference in Kampala, which should be the only logical forum to which the NRA-NRM or any other group must present its proposals.”94 Complaining that Okello was giving in to Museveni’s brinkmanship, they advocated a renewed military campaign to regain some of the battleeld losses before signing a peace agreement.95 Doubts in Kampala about the efcacy of the peace negotiations were underscored by Okello’s failure to appear in Nairobi for the signing ceremony on December 3, 1985 even after Moi had warned that this “would be the D-day, for better or worse.”96 The postponement embarrassed Moi, placing him in a quandary about how to exercise authority without seeming to appear desperate or torpedoing the peace process. Moreover, a well-orchestrated campaign by the Kenyan media and politicians exacerbated Moi’s problems by decrying the fact that talks were “taxing the president’s emotional and physical resources.” Against this background, Moi issued an ultimatum, telling the parties to “sign the agreement or go back to Uganda and continue ghting.”97 For the rst time, Moi threatened to close the Kenya border with Uganda if the war continued. Discussions in Kenya about the use of economic sanctions always had lurked in the background, but the negotiators never considered using such tactics because they did not appear to be a viable instrument in the face of the paralyzed Ugandan economy and the limited cross-border trade. 98 Furthermore, even if sanctions had been implemented, they would have hurt the government more than the NRM. This is why Okello had sought regional sympathy by blaming the NRM for “creating unnecessary problems for our neighboring countries by blocking and disrupting transit goods to these countries.”99 Moi’s ultimatum and threat of sanctions were calculated to nudge the parties to sign the agreement, but they had little impact on the protagonists. By

40

CHAPTER TWO

this point, threats to use sticks seemed counterproductive, especially since the parties had interpreted Moi’s impatience as an effort to salvage his image. Museveni, for instance, scoffed at these threats: No one is wasting Moi’s time here. So what if the Kenyans are fed up? It is their own business. I am not going to be intimidated by that. We have 93,000 square miles in Uganda. We can go back home and talk there. We did not force Moi to chair the talks, but it is his duty as an African to help us seek a peaceful settlement to the Ugandan problem. It is an honor for him to be at the vanguard of this peace process and Kenyans should not see it as a waste of their president’s time.100

Others saw Moi’s threats as a testimony of his inability to cope with the complex issues of the negotiations. Kampala’s Weekly Topic gave an extensive critique of Moi’s mediation, alluding to several of his shortcomings. Pointing to the roles and responsibilities imposed by the mediation, it noted that: “There must have been a minimum commitment and belief by the Kenyan president that the talks would be able to produce a result to which he, as a sovereign of another country, was willing to stamp his name on . . . Moi is no stranger to the political forces in the East African region . . . For close to two decades, he has been near and at the top of the Kenyan leadership, he can predict what is possible in Ugandan politics. Otherwise, he would not have offered himself as a mediator.”101 Secondly, it argued that the negotiations had proceeded without Moi’s understanding of the positions of the parties: “Why has Moi continued to waste both his and Kenya’s time? The peace that Nairobi can offer has become as much Moi’s affair as that of the Military Council and the NRM-NRA. By now Moi should have assessed the signicance of and purpose of the positions and shifts of both parties on the possibility of reaching an accord. Whenever the Chairman himself, like the other parties, emerges from the talks to chorus that ‘signicant progress’ has been made, and yet the war continues here, the negotiators go globetrotting for arms, and Moi turns up agitated, it becomes impossible to reach informed opinion on which one of the Ugandan sides of the talks is the villain.”102 Finally, it urged Moi to learn from Tanzania’s mediation of Uganda’s fractious communal strife: The Kenyan leader may like to take a leaf out of the Tanzanians at the 1979 Moshi conference. The various Uganda parties had almost irreconcilable interests. The Moshi accord was not a “conciliatory” one, obtained by consensus or from the goodwill and friendly feelings of the parties there, but was an “arbitrated convenience” virtually imposed on the squabbling Ugandans by the prospects of ending a life of exile, some by the lure of power and Tanzanian pressure to come out with a government to give them diplomatic cover and extricate itself at the earliest opportunity. Unless Moi assumes full powers of arbitration, it would

MOI MEDIATES UGANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1985

41

be giving false hopes to Ugandans to promise them an agreement when the parties to the talks have failed to give the Chairman powers to affect an agreement. Otherwise the only reason that the talks should continue is on the “reasonable prospect” that they will succeed.103

Moi’s discomfort stemmed from being in between a beleaguered government, with its legitimacy and power rapidly on the wane, and a movement whose condence had risen through successive military victories. The Uganda government was reluctant to sign the draft agreement because it was in a weak position and hoped to bolster its weak military position by wringing more concessions at the negotiating table. In the ensuing stalemate in early December 1985, the government set a new condition by demanding that the NRM revoke the interim administration it had established in southwestern Uganda.104 But the NRM took advantage of Kampala’s paralysis and refused to make further concessions. Instead, it adopted the moral high ground as reected in a statement from its chief negotiator: “All this procrastination by the Junta is in the hope that they will change the irreversible trend on the battleeld. It is quite clear that this is a deliberate attempt to cover up not only their persistent loses on the battleeld, but also the irreconcilable differences between the various junta factions which have resulted in frequent changes and inconsistent representation in the peace talks.”105 Facing the possibility of collapse of the peace talks, Moi invited Okello for another round of high-level negotiations with Museveni on December 12, 1985. In the nal phase, when the talks seemed to be on the verge of collapse, Moi exerted maximum leverage by warning that Kenya had committed its time and prestige to the mediation effort. A threat of war was the most decisive factor in the resolution because it would have been disastrous for both sides. In three days of what Moi described as “very sticky and difcult” talks, the two reached a nal agreement on December 16, 1985. The mediator’s looming Christmas deadline and last-minute prodding from Western countries played a vital role in the nal phase.106 The Nairobi talks concluded on the same contentious note as they had begun, with relentless ghting and insecurity in most of the country. Although the NRM had made a major concession to revoke its interim administration after both parties had signed the agreement, the end of the talks coincided with the surrender of besieged government troops in a military barracks to the west of the country.107 Despite the signicant military reversal, the government sought to use the Nairobi agreement as the foundation for a comprehensive national reconciliation process. As one of its ministers indicated: The crucial stage of this whole peace process is the national peace conference, which would . . . bring about all sectors of life, including members of the Military

42

CHAPTER TWO

Council, the Cabinet members, civil servants, religious leaders, and political parties. That is the only forum in the absence of a parliament where the people of Uganda can air their views as to what the interim administration should do to prepare the country toward eventual elections and civil peace . . . I think it is important for all citizens of this country to remember that peace is not going to be brought to Uganda by the Nairobi negotiators. Peace will come to Uganda through the efforts of all Ugandans and I hope that even when we sign the peace agreement, all citizens of Uganda will do everything possible to defend it selessly.108

The Nairobi Peace Agreement Power sharing and cease-re provisions formed the main pillars of the 50page agreement signed on December 17, 1985. Museveni accepted the post of deputy chairman of a reconstituted Military Council without the defense portfolio. The NRM also obtained seven of the 20 council seats while the UNLA gained seven plus that of the chair, Okello. After months of denouncing former Amin soldiers, the NRM conceded two seats to FUNA, but the agreement skirted the issue of representation of political parties that had participated in the 1980 general elections, deferring the decision to the new Military Council, which had attained the powers to formulate collective decisions over a range of issues.109 With regard to the cease-re, the Nairobi agreement stipulated an end to hostilities within forty-eight hours. Other cease-re provisions included: demilitarization of Kampala, opening of all major roads for civilian and commercial trafc, cessation of hostile propaganda, release of political detainees, punishment of soldiers who had violated human rights, and an end to arms acquisitions. One major sticking point in the cease-re talks had been the fate of soldiers who had violated human rights since the coup. The government had been reluctant to include this proviso since it affected a majority of its undisciplined forces. The matter was resolved by calling for the retroactive punishment and prosecution of soldiers including those who had served in Amin’s regime. Although the pact did not explicitly demand punishment for those who had committed atrocities under Obote, as the NRM had proposed, it suggested a national commission of inquiry into all human rights violations since independence in 1962. This commission was to formulate a national code of conduct that would prescribe the qualications for members of the Military Council, the cabinet, and other public ofcers. Following a cease-re, the agreement stipulated the demobilization of all armed forces and the formation of an 8,480 man-army consisting of 3,700 UNLA troops, 3,580 NRA troops, and 400 men each from UFM, FUNA, and

MOI MEDIATES UGANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1985

43

UNRF. The army was to be representative and recruited in accordance with a new national defense policy. Critical to the implementation of the agreement was the provision inviting a 700-man monitoring force from Kenya, Tanzania, Great Britain and Canada to monitor the cease-re’s implementation, assist in the disarmament exercise, and help the recruitment and training of a national army. Its commonwealth composition was largely a compromise between the government’s demand for an international peacekeeping force and the NRM’s previous reluctance to invite foreign troops because of its concern about Uganda’s sovereignty.110 Before the designated countries could deploy the monitoring force, the parties agreed that one or two of them would send a reconnaissance team to Uganda to identify the positions of combatant forces and to determine the size of the monitoring force. With the completion of cease-re and demobilization arrangements, the council would convene an all-party national conference in Kampala to deliberate on issues such as the interim government’s tenure, the future national constitutional framework, and ending with “free and fair general elections will be held in Uganda as soon as practicable to return the country to parliamentary democracy within the framework of a new constitution.”111 The signing ceremony underscored the persisting gulf between the parties. Moi described the agreement as “the dawning of a new era of peace and mutual trust transcending the trappings of tribalism, regionalism and religious differences,” and reiterated that neighboring countries would not forever remain indifferent to Uganda’s “carnage and insecurity.” Consequently, even though the Nairobi talks had been difcult, both parties had committed themselves to “laying of a strong foundation of democracy for the present generation and for posterity.”112 But in a ery speech, Museveni blamed Uganda’s instability on “state-inspired violence,” and singled out Okello for the army’s atrocities since the July 1985 coup: “The violence was not started by the people of Uganda. It was started by the people in power. We are not going to stop until the people who are responsible (are) brought to book. I can assure you that our movement is a very serious partner. If you want peace, we are serious partners. If you want trouble, we are also very serious partners.”113 Okello, however, sounded more conciliatory, thanking “my brother, Moi, for shouldering our problems in a very tolerant manner,” and noting that there had been “no victor or vanquished under this settlement. The people of Uganda as a whole have today won the victory of peace.”114 In the aftermath of the Nairobi talks, the parties failed to honor the cessation of hostilities, raising fundamental questions on whether the agreement had been sufcient to overcome the mutual animosities. Kenya sent a preparatory

44

CHAPTER TWO

military mission to prepare for the arrival of Commonwealth troops, but in the waning days of December 1985, there was a collapse of authority. The Okello government responded by parceling out Kampala to its allied military groups to keep law and order. But the military balkanization of Kampala only fueled widespread lawlessness and insecurity. Museveni, capitalizing on the deteriorating situation, mobilized his forces to march on Kampala. In January 1986, the NRM captured the capital, dissolved the Military Council, and established a coalition government.115

Conclusion: Moi, the Meddler or Mediator? Some questions pertaining to Moi’s role in Uganda lie in depiction of the Nairobi peace agreement as a military solution to a political problem. Since the outcomes reveal that the peace talks became merely tactics for the pursuit of military objectives rather than means of seeking negotiated solutions, the broader question is whether Moi’s intervention made any difference. Conceptually, this question relates to whether the conditions were propitious for Kenya’s mediation and whether, having obtained the invitation to mediate, Moi could have done things differently to arrive at alternative outcomes. Put differently, did the Nairobi agreement collapse because of the conict’s nature or the awed mediation process? Was Moi’s power that came with invitation undercut by a surfeit of organizational and administrative problems or was the conict bedeviled by structural impediments that precluded a negotiated settlement? Answers to what went wrong need to focus on obstacles to negotiations and Moi’s lost opportunities. Civil violence that threatens the central authority in the regional context compels African states to intervene, but timing is seldom part of the intervention calculus. The pressures on neighboring states to intervene in civil wars pose formidable problems in decisions about the precise moments for mediators to intervene. Uganda’s case demonstrates that Kenyan mediation had been driven by the need to preempt the deleterious effects of a civil conagration and, as Moi repeatedly emphasized, “our duty as blood brothers to involve us in trying to nd longstanding solutions.” Ripe moments describe the coincidence of military stalemates and the parties’ willingness to negotiate.116 For most mediators in internal conicts, information about these objective and subjective dimensions derives from invitation by the protagonists. Yet timing, as Wehr says, is “too difcult to deal with because it requires the coordination of many subjective assessments of both the parties and the mediator.”117 Invitation is intimately tied to the trust and credibility

MOI MEDIATES UGANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1985

45

established between the parties and mediator. While invitation legitimizes mediators and allows them to be participants in conict resolution, it does not resolve the question of appropriate timing or the conict’s structure. The parties to the Uganda conict invited Moi against the background of an uncertain stalemate and competing expectations about his role. To them, Moi’s intervention was necessary to conict termination, but neither party was clear about his role nor the shape of the outcome. Moi, motivated by a concern to restore stability to Uganda, was oblivious to the escalatory nature of the conict and the mutual distrust it spawned. The merit of mediators from the same geographic location is a prescriptive one that often glosses over the structural limits of such intervention.118 Pressures from ongoing wars force African mediators to intervene in contiguous conicts, but perhaps, with exaggerated perceptions of efcacy. Do African mediators intervening in protracted wars have the option of extricating themselves from such conicts? During the negotiations, both parties played for time, using the talks merely as a tactic to bolster their military and political positions. Despite Moi’s appeals for cessation in the ghting to enhance mutual condence, the acrimony on the battleeld profoundly affected the negotiating process. After Museveni overran Kampala, Moi was criticized for sustaining negotiations that the NRM used to bludgeon its opponent into making concessions that Museveni had no intention of upholding. The Nairobi agreement, one account put it, “was a tacit acknowledgment by the military authorities that the situation was beyond their control . . . They supported the provisions concerning disarmament and retirement of the bulk of their troops basically because over time they had become wild and uncontrollable.”119 Writing later, Museveni contended: [Even] while we signed the agreement that stipulated that we had 50 per cent of the seats on the ruling ‘Supreme Council,’ we knew that the provisions would not work so long as the Okellos were motivated by power and nobody was fully in control of the army.”120 Assefa contends that since most protagonists are bound to use mediators, particularly “for the tactical advantage they provide rather than because of any desire to use them for serious peace efforts,”121 mediators need to exploit these motives as a point of entry into the conict. Other scholars argue that mediators must be willing to disengage when the parties are not making progress. As Stedman states: “An unwillingness to disengage leads the parties to devalue the importance of mediation, encourages stubbornness on the side of the intractable parties who see their intransigence rewarded, and deligitimizes the mediation in the public’s eyes.”122 Like the decisions on timing to intervene, questions of mediators’ exit option assume a coincidence of objective and subjective factors. At one level,

46

CHAPTER TWO

mediators may persist in their roles due to insufcient information. Information about whether the parties are using the peace talks to buy time to attain military victory is hard to obtain where a large part of Moi’s task was to get the parties to the negotiating table. Some participants in the Nairobi talks attribute Moi’s misreading of the balance of power between the parties to his limited information about how the conict was evolving. As one put it: “Museveni was negotiating during the day and waging war during the night. Moi’s people had no knowledge of what he was doing.”123 More critical, however, is that mediators intervene in communal conicts without stable and easy fall-back positions. The Uganda case demonstrates that invitation, as one newspaper commented, comes with “roles and responsibilities” that mediators cannot easily walk away from. Neighboring countries as mediators, in particular, are more likely to be reluctant to free themselves from such predicaments when their leaders’ reputation is at stake. Having been invited by the parties, Moi could nd no way of extricating himself while saving face; in the words of one observer, “the stakes for the mediator were just as high, if not higher, as they were for the parties.”124 Even as the parties used the negotiations to secure gains in the war and in the battle for public opinion, Moi was averse to retreat from his public commitment to bring peace to Uganda. Further, when Museveni’s offensive eroded Okello’s military and political positions and the government continued to commit atrocities, Moi decided that any agreement was preferable to no agreement at all. Moi, one participant notes, was resigned to the fact that he had done all that he could to assist the Ugandans to obtain a peaceful way out of their civil war. By the time he threatened to withdraw his mediation services, he was comfortable with whatever agreement the two sides would reach. By then, Moi was ready for any settlement that would take the responsibility out of Kenya’s hands.125

There were numerous organizational and institutional obstacles that affected the Nairobi talks. The mediator’s organizational power lies in the ability to capture the parties’ initial willingness to negotiate. As most authors have suggested, once mediators surmount the parties’ reluctance to enter the process, they have room to take charge of conict management so it does not get out of hand. McEwen and Milburn, for instance, note that even when parties are focused on goals that mediation cannot achieve, accepting the mediator makes them vulnerable to persuasion: “By transmitting of communication, widening the agenda, neutralizing obstacles, the mediator is able to terminate or reduce conict and to bring about some degree of consensus and compromise.”126 Moi surrendered the organizational tool of invitation by failing to assume control in the conict’s initial phases. At the critical juncture of setting the

MOI MEDIATES UGANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1985

47

agenda, Moi neglected to seize the parties’ initial willingness and commitment to mediate to hold them to minimum negotiating terms. The catalytic role of mediators in civil wars entails their initiation of interaction and communication. As a result, the agenda phase becomes decisive in establishing the mediator’s stamp of authority by imposing order and direction. The Ugandan parties moved into the rst phase of the negotiations without a clear notion of the terms of the negotiating debate. Subsequent characterization of the mediation as a “joke” by some participants stem from Moi’s inability to wield his mediation power. When he later tried to reclaim his authority over the process, he had lost credibility, and increasingly, the respect of the major players. Equally signicant was the opportunity squandered to compel high-level negotiations from the outset. Okello’s absence from the talks set the tone of the negotiations by widening the gulf between the government and NRM, as the latter felt slighted for being treated just like any other “ghting group.” Moi was reluctant to force Okello’s participation partly because of the view that his government was sufciently in control. This omission raised a fundamental problem that stymies mediation of civil wars. Mediators intervening in civil wars treat opposition groups, particularly guerrilla movements with disdain, as irritable challengers to constituted authority. Incumbents get the benet of the mediator’s doubt, as they go about the business of governing and restoring peace. Mediators decry the intransigence of challengers while they applaud government efforts to restore peace. Incumbents glow in international limelight, attending assorted conferences and participating in national celebrations, relegating negotiations to a secondary item on national concerns. Moi could complain about Museveni’s absences from the negotiating table, yet remained silent when Okello failed to participate in the talks until the very end. To the NRM, high-level summits between Moi and Okello outside the framework of the Nairobi talks portrayed a sense of normalcy, continuity, and legitimacy in the face of severely contested authority. When challengers languish in obscurity and perceive that mediators and incumbents treat negotiations as sideshows, they take on a siege mentality, escalating their demands. Power equity is important in the battleeld and in the negotiation process, but it is also a perception problem. According to one observer: “Moi’s treatment of Okello as a head of state fractured the notion of power parity which Museveni wanted to emphasize at the negotiating table and on the battleeld. The NRM was not petitioning for inclusion in government, but Moi fueled that perception by his meetings with Okello.”127 Umbricht’s description of mediation as a long, time consuming, and exhausting process highlights some core institutional questions that relate to Moi’s mediation.128 The bargaining power of mediators emanates from their skills

48

CHAPTER TWO

and knowledge about the parties, procedures, communication, and organization of ideas, skills that are often learnt as actors build competence and capacity. The presidency as an institution is constrained with respect to acquisition of these skills largely because of countervailing demands that weigh heavily on individuals in such positions. The dilemma is that heads of state are “technically” competent to mediate civil wars since their ofces lend the force of power and integrity to intervention, but competing burdens of state come in the way of effective individual action. Where, as in communal conicts, concession-making is slow and painstaking, heads of state confront enormous problems in sustaining a coordinated process. The constant refrain in the Ugandan talks was echoed by a newspaper account: “[Moi’s] commitments as head of state . . . had to be shelved to make the time required for the Uganda peace process.”129 Unstated, however, is the time Moi took away from the mediation. Some postponements during the talks arose partly because of Moi’s myriad commitments as head of state, depriving the negotiators of the momentum necessary to maintain the process. During deadlocks, a heightened sense of crisis engulfs the often over-exposed president, spawning multiple pressures for agreements at any cost. This was demonstrated in the Ugandan case, as vividly portrayed in this account: By the time of the agreement, the peace talks had been going on for 51 days, spanning a period of nearly four months. For every one of those days, the president chaired the talks personally, while the leaders of the two delegations varied. Often, the president would be at his ofce in Harambee House, the venue of the talks, as early as 8:00 a.m. and would remain there until late into the night. There were days when only one delegation was in town and the president would spend the whole day in his ofce in vain waiting for the other side to appear.130

This is a picture of presidential selessness and fatigue that begs the question of whether there could a better institutional division of labor as African mediators confront the tedious and unpredictable tasks of assisting in resolving protracted internal wars. For while mediation is being in the middle of conicts, what distinguishes mediators from meddlers are the skills, preparedness, and organization of the interveners.

Notes 1. “Moi praises Uganda Peace Agreement,” Kenya Times (Nairobi), December 17, 1985. 2. “Hail President Moi-the Peacemaker,” Daily Nation (Nairobi), December 18, 1985. 3. “Okello, Museveni Sign Peace Pact,” Standard (Nairobi), December 17, 1985.

MOI MEDIATES UGANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1985

49

4. For discussions of postcolonial conicts see Amii Omara-Otunnu, Politics and the Military in Uganda (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1989); Mahmood Mamdani, Politics and Class Formation in Uganda (London: Heinemann, 1976); Phares Mutibwa, Uganda Since Independence (Trenton, NJ: Africa World Press, 1992). On Tanzania’s role on the liberation see Cherry Gertzel, “Uganda after Amin: The Continuing Search for Leadership and Control,” African Affairs, vol. 79, no. 317, 1980, pp. 461–90; Ibrahim J. Wani, “Humanitarian Intervention and the Tanzania-Uganda War,” Horn of Africa, vol. 3, no. 2, 1989, pp. 18–27; and Khadiagala, “Uganda in Eastern African Security,” Journal of Modern African Studies, vol. 31, no. 2, 1993, pp. 231–55. 5. For a summary of the immediate phase of the coup see “Obote Toppled for the Second Time,” Weekly Review (Nairobi), August 28, 1985. 6. Yoweri Kaguta Museveni, What is Africa’s Problem? Speeches and Writings by Yoweri Kaguta Museveni (Kampala, NRM Publications, 1992), p. 95. 7. In extending this invitation, Col. Wilson Toko, the vice-chairman of the Military Council indicated: “Come with no preconditions. If you do not like a particular person on either the military council or the cabinet, do not point it out using the gun. It is more civilized to point out what one dislikes peacefully, discussing with the word of mouth rather than the gun.” See “Col. Toko Dismisses Museveni’s Claims,” Star (Kampala), August 24, 1985 and “Talks in Arusha: Museveni Should be More Flexible,” Weekly Focus (Kampala), August 13, 1985. 8. Star, August 15, 1985. 9. “Interview with NRA’s Yoweri Museveni,” Star, October 25, 1985. See also the remarks by Solomon Kisseka, NRA’s Nairobi spokesman: “All the decisions announced on 29 July by the leaders of the Ugandan National Liberation Army in Kampala regarding the military council, the appointment of a head of state and prime minister, and the arrangements for a general election, were made without the knowledge of the NRM or its consent. This was in spite of the fact that the leaders of the Uganda National Army were fully aware of all the NRM’s contacts with them before the coup. The NRM is not bound by these decisions.” Cited in “Uganda: War of Nerves,” Africa Condential, vol. 26, no. 16, July 31, 1985, pp. 1–2. 10. I. William Zartman, “Prenegotiations: Phases and Functions,” in Janice G. Stein, ed., Getting to the Table: The Processes of International Prenegotiation (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1989) pp. 1–17. 11. I borrow the notion of soft stalemate from Todd Eisenstadt and Daniel Garcia, “Colombia: Negotiations in a Shifting Pattern of Insurgency,” in Zartman, Elusive Peace: Negotiating to End Civil Wars (Washington, DC: The Brookings Institution, 1995), p. 266. 12. Mahmood Mamdani, NRA/NRM: Two Years in Power (Kampala: Progressive Publishing House, 1988), p. 5. 13. “President Moi, Peace Broker,” Weekly Review, December 20, 1985, p. 13. 14. “Uganda: War of Nerves,” Africa Condential, vol. 26, no. 6, July 31, 1985, p. 2. 15. For a summary of the abortive attempts to schedule talks in Tanzania see “Uganda: War of Nerves,” Africa Condential, vol. 26, no. 6, July 31, 1985, pp. 1–2; “Arusha to Host Peace Talks,” Star, August 10, 1985; “Tanzania Military Arrives in Kampala,” Star, August 19, 1985. Museveni, Sowing The Mustard Seed: The Struggle for Democracy in Uganda (London: Macmillan, 1997), p. 167 claims that Nyerere was reluctant to mediate because the military council comprised of former Idi Amin’s forces: “He [Nyerere] had initially

50

16. 17. 18. 19.

20. 21.

22. 23. 24. 25.

26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32.

33. 34. 35. 36.

37. 38.

CHAPTER TWO

supported the idea of dialogue with the new regime in Kampala, but when the Okellos included some of Amin’s men as ministers, Nyerere became hostile to them.” Interview, Dar es Salaam, May 1996. “Kenya’s Moi Suggested as Chairman for Roundtable,” Daily Nation, August 7, 1985; “Museveni now Prefers Nairobi for Talks,” Weekly Focus, August 29, 1985. Interview, Nairobi, June 1996. For a good summary of Kenya’s motives see Makumi Mwagiru, “The International Management of Internal Conict in Africa: The Uganda Mediation, 1985,” Doctoral dissertation, Rutherford College, University of Kent at Canterbury, October 1994, pp. 275–81. “Looking for a Better Future for Uganda,” Standard, August 27, 1985. I. William Zartman, “Mediation by Regional Organizations: The OAU in Chad and Congo,” in Jacob Bercovitch, ed., Studies in International Mediation: Essays in Honor of Jeffrey Z. Rubin (New York: Palgrave-Macmillan, 2002), pp. 80–92. See for instance, Daily Nation, August 26, 1985. “What’s Wanted of Uganda’s Factions,” Daily Nation, September 7, 1985. “In Search of Meaningful Unity,” Standard, September 4, 1985. Cited in “Uganda: Government to Resume Talks if NRA Compromises,” Foreign Broadcast Information Services (FBIS), September 19, 1985, p. R1. See also the government delegation’s praise for Moi for his “brotherly spirit and untiring efforts in assisting Uganda to obtain a durable peace,” as cited in “Uganda Leader Praises Moi Peace Efforts,” Kenya News Agency, September 30, 1985. Star, October 4, 1985. See also “Stop Bloodshed, Moi Advises,” Standard, August 26, 1985. Weekly Topic, August 28, 1985. “Col. Wilson Toko’s Interview,” Weekly Topic, August 28, 1985. “Museveni set for Nairobi Talks if . . .” Star, August 26, 1985 and “Museveni agrees to Talks, Issues Statement,” Standard, August 8, 1985. Victor Umbricht, Multilateral Mediation: Practical Experiences and Lessons (Martinus Nijhoff, 1987) p. 227. “Museveni Set for Nairobi Talks if . . .” Star, August 26, 1985. The conventional wisdom in Kampala was that Toko and Otunnu combined technical competence and proximity to high levels of power, factors that made them the logical government representatives. Okello, with barely high school education, would have hardly comprehended the intricacies of the negotiations. Yet paradoxically, this very fact stoked the NRM’s anger that Toko and Otunnu were merely stalking for an “incompetent regime.” Interviews in Kampala and Nairobi, March–May 1996. James Tumusiime and John Kiama, “Uganda Talks Chaired by Moi,” Standard, August 27, 1985. “Make Negotiating Team Authoritative and avoid ‘Armed Marriages of Conveniences’,” Citizen (Kampala), September 4, 1985. Interviews with Kenyan ofcials, Nairobi, June 1996. Christopher J. McMullen, Mediation of the West New Guinea Dispute, 1962: A Case Study, (Washington DC: George Washington University, Institute for the Study of Diplomacy, 1981), p. 10. Janice Stein, “War Termination and Conict Reduction, How Wars Should End,” Jerusalem Journal of International Relations, vol. 1, no. 1. Fall 1995, pp. 1–27. “Keep Peace: Moi Tells Ugandans,” Standard, September 3, 1985.

MOI MEDIATES UGANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1985

51

39. “Moi Calls for an End to Bloodshed,” Daily Nation, September 4, 1985. 40. “Memorandum of the Government on the Nairobi Peace Talks,” Nairobi, September 1985. 41. Makumi Mwagiru, “The International Management of Internal Conict in Africa,” p. 306. 42. “If Peace talks with Government Fail, We will take Kampala, Museveni,” Daily Nation, September 14, 1985. For other reports of the offensive see “Heavy Fighting Near Kampala,” Daily Nation, September 13, 1985. 43. “Uganda: Peace Talks to go on,” Weekly Review, September 20, 1985; “Uganda Peace Talks to Resume ‘Next Week’,” Kenya News Agency, September 20, 1985; “Moi Appeals for ‘Immediate Cease-re’ in Uganda,” Kenya News Agency, September 23, 1985. 44. Cited in Gideon Mulaki, “Parties ‘Keen on Peace’,” Daily Nation, September 30, 1985. 45. Interview, Kampala, March 1996. For accounts of the regional summit see “Moi, Nyerere, Okello Hold Talks,” Standard, September 24, 1985. 46. “Nyerere Warns of Amin’s Soldiers,” Daily Nation, September 25, 1985. 47. “Ugandan Cardinal to Try to Break Deadlock,” Kenya Times, September 23, 1985; “Cardinal Cautions UNLA, NRA,” Star, September 26, 1985. For other accounts of the Cardinal’s diplomacy see Joseph Karimi, “Nsubuga on Peace Mission in Nairobi,” Daily Nation, September 20, 1985; and Nsubuga Urges an End to the Fighting,” Daily Nation, September 22, 1985. 48. Nelson Osiemo, “Uganda Talks Resume,” Standard, September 26, 1985; “Moi Gives Ugandans One More Chance,” Weekly Review, October 20, 1985. 49. Star, October 25, 1985. 50. “Otunnu on Cease-re in ‘Peace Discussion’,” FBIS, October 21, 1985, p. R4. 51. “Text of a Memorandum presented at the 26th September Uganda Peace Talks by the Ugandan Military Council to the National Resistance Movement,” Standard, 27 September 1985. See also “Nairobi Meeting Spells Out Uganda Peace Terms,” Daily Nation, September 27, 1985. 52. “Ministry of Foreign Affairs’ Counter-proposals to the National Resistance Movement (NRM) Proposals,” Nairobi, September 30, 1985. 53. “Memorandum of National Resistance Movement’s Proposals and Counter-Proposals for the Third Session of the Peace Talks,” Nairobi, September 27, 1985. 54. “Memorandum of National Resistance Movement’s Proposals and Counter-Proposals for the Third Session of the Peace Talks,” Nairobi, September 27, 1985. 55. “Memorandum of NRA’s Proposals and Counter-Proposals for the Third Session,” Nairobi, September 27, 1985. 56. “Memorandum of NRA’s Proposals and Counter-Proposals for the Third Session,” Nairobi, September 27, 1985. 57. Nelson Osiemo, “Peace Talks Adjourned,” Standard, October 4, 1985. 58. Dayle E. Spencer and Honggang Yang, “Lessons from the Field of Intra-national Conict Resolution,” Notre Dame Law Review, vol. 67, no. 5, 1992, pp. 1497–1513. On the concept of fractionation of conict see also John Burton, “The Facilitation of International Conict Resolution,” in Louis Kriesberg, ed., Research in Social Movements: Conict and Change (London: JAI Press, 1990), pp. 33–45. 59. Gideon Mulaki, “Uganda Talks Adjourned Again,” Daily Nation, October 4, 1985. Mwangale had an unremarkable record as Kenya’s foreign minister. In the late 1990s, President Moi appointed him as the chief mediator for the Somalia talks in Eldoret and Nairobi. Benjamin Kiplagat, the seasoned diplomat, took over the Somalia after Mwangale’s demise.

52

CHAPTER TWO

60. “ ‘Second Part’ of Defense Minister Toko’s 14 October Press Conference,” FBIS, October 17, 1985, p. R1; and “Third Part of Defense Minister Toko’s 14 October Press Conference,” FBIS, October 18, 1985, p. R2. 61. Daily Nation, October 12, 1985. 62. Hizkias Assefa, “The Challenge of Mediation of Internal Wars,” p. 102. 63. Weekly Topic, September 27, 1985. 64. Victor Umbricht, Multilateral Mediation, p. 244. 65. “Keep Ugandans Informed,” Weekly Topic, October 3, 1985. 66. “Stop the Slaughter, Says Moi,” Standard, October 12, 1985. 67. “What Does it Mean to Ugandans,” Star, October 5, 1985. 68. Interview, Kampala, June 1996. 69. “If Peace Talks Fail . . .” Star, October 4, 1985. See also “Uganda: Battle for Key Road,” Daily Nation, October 16, 1985. 70. For reports of the war see “Government Dispatches Troops to Mbarara,” Daily Nation, October 5, 1985. 71. “General Tito Okello’s Address on Uganda’s Independence Anniversary,” Weekly Focus, October 11, 1985. 72. “No More Peace Talks Without Cease-re-Col. Toko,” Citizen, October 15, 1985. 73. See NRM’s statement on the eve of the third round that said in part: “The hour is approaching when the NRA will be duty bound to launch a strategic offensive to liberate Kampala and the rest of the country from the grip of these criminals so that Ugandans can have the peace enjoyed by the people in Western Uganda and some parts of Buganda under our control.” Cited in Star, October 29, 1985. 74. The Daily Nation, October 18, 1985 summarized the mediator’s appeal in its headline: “We Appeal Again to Ugandans: Stop It!” 75. “Who Represents the UNLA?” Weekly Topic, October 9, 1985. 76. “Stop Uganda Fighting or Else, Moi Warns,” Star, October 21, 1985; “They Must Help us to Help them,” Daily Nation, October 28, 1985. 77. “Stop Uganda Fighting or Else, Moi Warns,” Star, 21 October 1985. See also Robert Osiemo, “Uganda’s Last Chance,” Standard, October 28, 1985; Senda wa Kwayera and Job Githinji, “It’s Uganda’s Last Chance, Says Moi,” Daily Nation, October 21, 1985; Pius Nyamora, “It’s up to you now, Moi tells Ugandans,” Daily Nation, October 28, 1985. 78. Lawrence Susskind and Jeffrey Rubin, “Negotiation: Behavioral Perspectives.” American Behavioral Scientist, vol. 27, no. 2, November–December 1983, pp. 272–3 note that in mediation, communication is important as a means by which the mediator makes use of the tools of threats, promises, and compromises. 79. Interviews with Kenyan and Ugandan Ofcials, Nairobi and Kampala, January, March, June 1996. At the end of one of the meetings, Moi remarked: “I have left them having committees to draft on what we have already agreed upon, and I must say we have agreed on many points. There are matters of details that the two delegations can work out through committees.” Cited in “No Hurry over Peace Pact-Moi,” Star, November 1, 1985. 80. “Interview with NRA’s Museveni,” Star, October 25, 1985. 81. “Let’s Agree: Okello Urges Museveni,” Star, October 25, 1985. 82. “Museveni, Okello Shake Hands,” Star, October 29, 1985; “Museveni Offered Top Post,” Daily Nation, October 29, 1985; “Museveni Spells out his Conditions,” Star, October 30, 1985. 83. “Ofcial Calls for Cease-re at Press Conference,” Star, October 15, 1985.

MOI MEDIATES UGANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1985

53

84. “Government Memorandum on the Fourth Round of Talks,” Nairobi, October 30, 1985. 85. Paul Muhoho and Gideon Mulaki, “Museveni Spells out his Conditions,” Daily Nation, October 30, 1985 and Paul Muhoho, “Council Dismayed by NRA’s Proposals,” Daily Nation, October 31, 1985. 86. “Museveni Tables New Proposals,” Star, October 30, 1985. 87. Gideon Mulaki, “Museveni Names Interim Government,” Daily Nation November 5, 1985. 88. “Uganda Will not be Divided into Bantu-Nilotic Areas,” Daily Nation, November 6, 1985; “Museveni ‘Names’ Masaka Cabinet,” Star, November 7, 1985. 89. “New Snag is: Who Takes Defense?” Star, November 9, 1985; “Government sees ‘New’ NRM Demand as ‘Escalation’ ” FBIS, November 5, 1985. 90. “Defense Minister Says NRA ‘Not Serious’ in Talks,” Star, November 30, 1985. See also “Museveni turns Talks into Jokes,” Citizen, November 6, 1985. 91. Interviews with NRM and Government Ofcials, Kampala, March 1996; Addis Ababa, June 1996. See also Weekly Focus, November 5, 1985 for analysis of the role of committees. 92. “Draft Accord Threatens Rift in Council,” Daily Nation, November 19, 1985; “NRM Approves Peace Accord Draft,” Kenya Times, November 19, 1985; “Uganda: Moi to Set Date,” Daily Nation, November 20, 1985; “Uganda Talks Resume Today,” Daily Nation, November 21, 1985; Gideon Mulaki, “Uganda Accord May be Signed Today,” Daily Nation, November 27, 1985. 93. “Interview with Yoweri Museveni,” Daily Nation, November 27, 1985. See also “Museveni sets Final Conditions,” Star, November 27, 1985; and “I Will Pull out, Museveni Warns,” Star, November 28, 1985; “Moi Appeals to Ugandan Parties to End Fighting,” Daily Nation, November 29, 1985; Chris Musyoka, “President Moi Asks NRA to Release Aircraft,” Daily Nation, November 22, 1985. 94. “Now ‘Fighting Groups Gang Up Against the Peace Talks,” Weekly Topic, November 1, 1985. 95. “Toko Returns From Nairobi: Talks Continue,” FBIS, November 8, 1985; “Toko Replaced as Leader of Talk Team,” Daily Nation, November 8, 1985. 96. Gideon Mulaki, “Uganda Accord is Today,” Daily Nation, December 3, 1985; “Nobody to Sign Uganda Peace Pact,” Star, December 4, 1985. 97. “Nobody to Sign Ugandan Peace Pact,” Star, December 4, 1985; “Moi Gives Ultimatum,” Kenya Times, December 4, 1985. For a summary of the government statements about the “burdens” on Moi’s time see Weekly Review, December 13, 1985. 98. On Kenya’s hesitation toward more forceful action see “Kenya’s Vice-President Mwai Kibaki Views Uganda Talks,” FBIS, October 29, 1985. 99. “General Tito Okello’s Address on Uganda’s Independence Anniversary,” Weekly Focus, October 11, 1985. 100. Cited in “Make or Break: Time for Ugandans,” Weekly Review, December 13, 1985. See also “Museveni Upsets Moi,” Star, December 5, 1985; “Moi’s Patience Wearing Out,” Weekly Focus, December 6, 1985. 101. “The Challenge Facing Moi,” Weekly Topic, December 2, 1985, p. 3. 102. “The Challenge Facing Moi,” p. 3. 103. “The Challenge Facing Moi,” p. 3. 104. “Uganda Government Gives its Peace Conditions,” Daily Nation, December 7, 1985; “Hostilities in Uganda Appear Intensied,” Weekly Review, December 13, 1985, p. 37;

54

105.

106.

107. 108. 109.

110. 111. 112. 113. 114. 115.

116.

117. 118. 119.

120. 121.

CHAPTER TWO

“Museveni Accused of Delaying Peace Process,” Star, December 5, 1985; “Government Blames Rebels for Delay in Peace Accord,” Kenya Times, December 5, 1985. “NRM Claims Military Council Using ‘Delaying Tactics’”, Daily Nation, December 8, 1985; “Hostilities in Uganda Appear Intensied,” Weekly Review, 13 December 1985; Michael Rank, “Punishment Fear Blocks Uganda Peace Accord, Rebel says,” Reuters, December 4, 1985; “NRA Blames Ugandan Military Council for Talks Breakdown,” Kenya Times, December 5, 1985. “Okello: We Will Sign the Accord If . . .,” Daily Nation, December 12, 1985; Gideon Mulaki, “Give Ugandans Peace for Christmas-Moi,” Daily Nation, December 13, 1985; “Okello, Museveni at Crucial Talks,” Standard, December 14, 1985; “Uganda Talks Still On,” Standard, December 16, 1985; “Tito Okello Needs to Come to Nairobi,” Kenya Times, December 9, 1985. “Okello, Museveni at Crucial Talks,” Standard, December 14, 1985; “Uganda Talks Still On,” Standard, December 16, 1985. “Waligo Reafrms Commitment to Peace in Uganda,” Star, December 11, 1985. “The Uganda Peace Agreement,” Nairobi, December 18, 1985. For commentaries on the agreement see “Peace At Last for Strife-Torn Uganda,” Weekly Review, December 20, 1985, pp. 8–20; “Factions Sign Truce in Uganda,” Chicago Tribune, December 18, 1985, p. 5; Mary Anne Fitzgerald, “Uganda Signs Pact with Rebels, but no one Seems Happy,” Christian Science Monitor, December 18, 1985, p. 9; “Uganda Factions Sign Accord on Peace,” New York Times, December 18, 1985, p. 3. “The Uganda Peace Agreement,” December 18, 1985. “The Uganda Peace Agreement,” December 18, 1985. “The Signing in Nairobi of Uganda Peace Agreement: Moi’s Speech,” Weekly Review, December 20, 1985. “It’s the People’s Victory-Museveni,” Daily Nation, December 18, 1985. “Come Home-Okello Tells Ugandan Exiles,” Daily Nation, December 18, 1985. For good analyses of the post-settlement phase see “Continued Attacks Worry Moi: Ugandans Urged to Honor Accord,” Daily Nation, December 27, 1985; Mary Ann Fitzgerald, “Leaders’ Suspicions Cloud Uganda Peace,” Financial Times, December 21, 1985, p. 3; Michael Rank, “Deep Suspicions Remain after Ugandans Sign Peace Pact,” Reuters, December 18, 1985; “Kenyan President puts off Ugandan Tour,” Kenya Times, January 4, 1986; Fitzgerald, “Uganda’s New ruler vows to Purge Army and Renew Economy,” Christian Science Monitor, January 30, 1986, p. 7. J. S. Himes, Conict and Conict Management (Athens, GA: University of Georgia Press, 1980), p. 140; and Oran Young, The Intermediaries: Third Parties in International Crises (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1967), pp. 43–44. Paul Wehr, Conict Regulation (Boulder: Westview, 1979), pp. 51–2. Hizkias Assefa, “The Challenge of Mediation of Internal Wars,” pp. 101–106. Citizen, December 31, 1985. See also accounts of leaked documents in which the NRM reportedly describes its negotiating partners as “peace jokers,” as cited in Star, November 24, 1985. Museveni, Sowing the Mustard Seed, p. 169. Hizkias Assefa, “The Challenge of Mediation in Internal Wars: Reections on the INN Experience in the Ethiopia-Eritrean Conict,” Security Dialogue, vol. 23, no. 3, 1992, p. 203.

MOI MEDIATES UGANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1985

55

122. Stephen Stedman, “Negotiation and Mediation in Internal Conict,” in Michael E. Brown, ed., The International Dimensions of Internal Conict (Cambridge: MIT Press, 1996) p. 361. 123. Interview with NRM Ofcials, Kampala, March 1996. 124. Interview with NRM ofcial, Kampala, March 1996. 125. Interview with a former UNLA Ofcial, Kampala, June 1996. 126. Craig McEwen and Thomas W. Milburn, “Explaining the Paradox of Mediation,” Negotiation Journal, vol. 9, no. 1, 1992, p. 36. 127. Interview with NRM ofcial, Kampala, June 1996. 128. Victor Umbricht, Multilateral Mediation, p. 253. 129. “Moi: The Peacemaker,” Kenya Times, December 19, 1985. 130. “President Moi: Peace broker,” Weekly Review, December 20, 1985.

Chapter Three

Tanzania Mediates Rwanda’s Civil War, 1992–1993 Rwanda is a complete African product, a clear example of mediation done for Africa by the Africans themselves. This is a triumph of reason, a triumph of African diplomacy. We have proved that it is possible for the OAU to nd a solution to most of our problems. We intend to build on this experience and use mediation as a means of ending conicts on our continent.1 Salim Ahmed Salim, OAU Secretary-general, August 1993

Introduction The search for African solutions to African conicts generates excessive pressures for success stories, as depicted by Secretary-General Salim’s remarks in the aftermath of the August 1993 Arusha Peace Accord that ended Rwanda’s civil war. Given the resource limits, African states prefer settlements reached through mediation to the more costly forms of interventions. Successes, however, are few partly because of problems of sustaining mediated settlements. African states may mobilize resources to help mediate civil conicts, but lack the capacity to compel parties to keep their promises. The Rwanda genocide focused attention on the obstacles to international implementation of civil war settlements. Less analyzed, however, is Tanzania’s role in the protracted mediation efforts to reach a power-sharing agreement. This chapter reviews the process that led to the Arusha Peace Accord of August 1993 by highlighting the strength and constraints of Tanzanian mediators. Like the previous chapter, this analysis examines mediators as authoritative third parties who try to inuence combatants to reach agreements. For African mediators, invitation and acceptance are the sources of this authority, endowing them with unique status, organizational latitude, and prescriptive power. But this authority also evolves as mediators seek to manage the multiple demands incumbent upon their roles. The Rwanda mediation demonstrated how African mediators confront the dual challenges of grasping and exercising this authority in intense communal conicts.

58

CHAPTER THREE

The regional context of Rwanda’s conict points to the component of meddling that weighs heavily on African intervention in civil wars. Communal conicts embedded in regional environments with competing power interests attract meddlers, as many parties converge around peacemaking initiatives. Interveners seeking solutions in such “regionalized conicts”2 face the challenges of warding off meddlers as they deal with the internal dynamics of controlling the parties to the conict. This chapter’s introductory sections will analyze how the conict evolved within the regional context and the challenges to mediation, where actors scurried for mediation roles and provided diverse sources of support to the protagonists. Discussion of Tanzania’s role as a mediator shows that communal conicts with regional implications cannot be insulated from multiple interests and pressures, but mediators can overcome their debilitating effects by controlling negotiations. Seizing the parties’ mutual exhaustion, the mediators made themselves relevant and indispensable components of a dual-pronged process of conict deescalation and constitution-building. Throughout these efforts, Tanzanian mediators built on the multilateral context of the negotiations to mobilize diverse resources on the disputants. The conclusion will appraise the mediator’s role in light of the violent unraveling of the agreement and the broader dilemmas and lessons of implementing civil settlements.

Background to Tanzania’s Mediation: Issues and Actors I: October–December 1990 Rwanda’s conict originated in the long history of ethnic animosities exacerbated by colonial policies, feeble postcolonial state structures, and resource scarcities, notably land. In the 1959 revolution that preceded Rwanda’s independence, the majority Hutu revolted against the minority Tutsi overlords. The resulting instability led to the ight of Tutsi refugees into neighboring countries. By the 1980s, Uganda had an estimated population of 250,000 Tutsi refugees, and an almost equal number in other Eastern African countries. A tripartite commission composed of Rwanda, Uganda, and the United Nations High Commission for Refugees (UNHCR) had tried, for years, to resolve the question of repatriation of Rwandese refugees. Rwanda’s Hutu president Juvenal Habyarimana, however, insisted that Uganda should grant them permanent citizenship because Rwanda lacked the resources to absorb them.3 A Uganda-based movement, the Rwandese Patriotic Front (RPF) invaded Rwanda in October 1990 seeking to force the Habyarimana government to address long-standing Tutsi grievances. Uganda provided military support

TANZANIA MEDIATES RWANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1992–1993

59

to the RPF because some of its leaders, including Paul Kagame, had been instrumental in the rise to power of Museveni’s National Resistance Movement (NRM) in January 1986 (see chapter 2). Furthermore, Museveni had frosty ties with Habyarimana who he saw as an “old-style” corrupt African leader. Although denying its involvement in the invasion, the Museveni government supported the RPF’s claims for an inclusive political order and the resettlement of refugees in Rwanda.4 Uganda’s role in the invasion heightened the conict’s regional dimensions and scrambled alliances that were to have consequences on the search for a negotiated solution. Habyarimana responded to the RPF’s invasion by galvanizing domestic support against what he described as a “barbaric aggression organized from outside by various forms of external forces to restore a minority and feudal regime which was abolished in 1959 under the guise of liberation and democracy.”5 Habyarimana also conjured up the specter of Uganda’s grand regional design to invite foreign military support from Belgium, France, and Zaire to assist Rwanda against the RPF.6 External support enabled the Rwandese army to inict heavy casualties on the RPF and to force it to change from a conventional to guerrilla war strategy, leading Habyarimana to claim that: “In our struggle to safeguard the dignity of our country, we have the efcient support of many of our friendly countries. I am very much happy of that support.”7 Foreign military assistance allowed Habyarimana to contain the war’s initial impact and keep the RPF at bay. After the RPF had occupied strategic positions, the injection of foreign troops restored the imbalance, consigning the former to the status of a mere guerrilla force with no claims to equality. Emboldened by this position, Habyarimana launched a diplomatic initiative to isolate the RPF by putting pressure on Uganda. In reference to Uganda, the government described the initiative as “getting to the source of the invasion,” and promised to “talk with the forces backing the rebels once they have left Rwandese territory.”8 Habyarimana’s regional diplomacy sought to enlist Belgian support. Three weeks after the invasion, Brussels sent its prime minister, Wilfried Martens, to east Africa to convince regional leaders to prevail on Museveni to “halt the offensive and seek a peaceful solution within the framework of the OAU.” Martens also urged Tanzania and Zaire to create a regional intervention force to supervise a cease-re, with Belgium providing logistical and nancial support.9 Martens’ diplomatic intervention galvanized regional consultations on ceasere talks and the establishment of a peacekeeping mission starting with a summit attended by Tanzania, Uganda, and Rwanda in Mwanza, Tanzania, on October

60

CHAPTER THREE

17, 1990. In these talks, Tanzania’s president, Ali Hassan Mwinyi, played a leading role in interceding between Museveni and Habyarimana. The latter hoped to use Tanzania’s inuence over Museveni to curtail Uganda’s logistical and military support to the RPF. Mwinyi insisted that Rwanda needed to address some of the RPF’s demands, especially the return of the refugees. At the Mwanza summit, Habyarimana pledged to “initiate a dialogue with the internal and external opposition under the auspices of the Secretary General of the OAU to end the conict.” But this dialogue would begin only after Tanzania and Uganda agreed to “persuade the armed opposition (RPF) to observe a cease-re . . . that should be monitored by neutral troops mutually agreed upon by the parties concerned.”10 Couching the cease-re in terms of RPF’s withdrawal from Rwandese territory dovetailed with Habyarimana’s underlying strategy of marginalizing the RPF by dening the conict as one of Ugandan aggression. In a revealing interview, Habyarimana provided his interpretation of the Mwanza deliberations: We asked President Mwinyi and Museveni to obtain the cease-re . . . If there are negotiations, they are the ones who must negotiate. If there are conditions, they should be imposed on them, not on the Rwandan government. I do not see how the cease-re could be negotiated with the Rwandan government, which is being attacked and is defending itself. It is obvious that we cannot hold discussions with people who are shooting at us. At the very most, we can talk with those who sent them or with those who have inuence over them. The Rwandan government position is that, simultaneously with the cease-re, these troops should start to withdraw, as these troops do belong to a regular army. Even if they had deserted from this very army . . . they are not Rwandans who are returning home. When army deserters attack a foreign country and their own country lets them do it, this constitutes an attack on a country by another country, or at least an act of aggression. What should I do with Ugandans belonging to the NRA?11

Marginalized from the regional talks, the RPF vowed to consolidate its military positions: “We can’t withdraw from our positions,” one of its leaders explained, “It is totally unacceptable that we can leave our own country. Most of us are deserters from the Ugandan army, and we can’t go back to Uganda.”12 In the ensuing standoff, Museveni observed: “We won’t let the Rwandan rebels back into Uganda, and I hope that they don’t want that either.”13 The Mwanza summit epitomized Habyarimana’s unwillingness to grant recognition to the RPF as a legitimate participant in the conict. In civil contests where incumbents draw upon the advantages of sovereignty, insurgents are reduced to petitioners, striving for acceptance against formidable military and political obstacles. Incumbents fear that recognition of insurgent claims legitimizes an emerging dual power structure that would presage negotiations for a settlement. But holding rm against recognition emboldens insurgent use

TANZANIA MEDIATES RWANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1992–1993

61

of violence to achieve the same ends. The result is often a stalemate in which the insurgent’s major bargaining lever is their ability to survive, hold some ground, and by their staying power, gradually whittle down the incumbent’s morale and credibility. Regional negotiations did not change the conict dynamics, as the government resisted endowing the RPF with military and political equality and enlisted its allies to pressure Uganda to cease support for the RPF. One of Habyarimana’s ministers summarized this strategy: “We think that through our regional friends and international pressure, President Museveni could be made to understand the wrong he is doing to the Rwanda people and the region’s population.”14 The strategy’s success depended on the government’s ability to contain the guerrilla war and sustain pressure on Uganda.15 Tanzania, however, doubted the wisdom of being an interlocutor in diplomatic initiatives that sought to contain Uganda and to avoid dealing with the RPF. As one ofcial noted: Mwinyi informed Wilfried Martens that as long as a permanent settlement of the refugee problem in Rwanda could not be found, Tanzania would use whatever means it had to prevail on Museveni. He also argued that there was no reason why Museveni would have no interest in a settlement along these lines. Moreover, the rebels, drawn from Rwandese refugees in Uganda, had no excuse to refuse to negotiate if Rwandese negotiations agreed to discuss their basic terms. Martens and some in the European Union were operating on only one side of the ledger: the Uganda-RPF part of the conict. They did not seem to be doing enough on getting Habyarimana to see the other side.16

As a result, Habyarimana turned to President Mobutu who organized a series of summits on Rwanda at Gbadolite, Zaire, under the auspices of the regional organization, Communaute Economique des Pays des Grand Lacs (CEPGL), in early November 1990. These summits charged Mobutu with mediating an end to the conict and proposed the formation of an OAU military contingent to supervise a cease-re between the protagonists. Pending the force’s formation, the Gbadolite summit established a 15-man team of military observers from Zaire, Burundi, Uganda, Rwanda, and RPF representatives to arrange the supervision a cease-re.17 But, like Tanzania’s previous diplomatic intervention, Habyarimana invited Mobutu to mobilize African support against Uganda and the RPF. There had been no shift from Kigali’s stance of a cease-re as a prelude and guarantee of the RPF’s return to Uganda. This became evident when Rwanda, against the opposition of most military observers, insisted on deploying a team on the Rwanda-Uganda border to prevent further RPF incursions. The impasse illustrated the difculties of separating discussions about a cease-re from the wider political context of the conict. Rwanda’s Foreign Minister Casimir

62

CHAPTER THREE

Bizimungu touched on this separation: “It appears that the different military participants went too far and spent too much time on political considerations. We believe that political considerations should be discussed within some other forum such as the meetings that our heads of state hold regularly in our region. In overall terms, the group of military observers has to deal with the specic issues of observing a cease-re, and delineating the precise military positions to each party. As for the other matters that seem to be rather political, we believe they are irrelevant to the military group of observers.”18 To a Tanzanian representative on the military team, however: “The military deployment talks got bogged down on issues that surpassed the limited technical mandate provided by the Gbadolite summits. We were placed in the ridiculous position of preparing to supervise a cease-re that the principal party to the conict was unwilling to commit to.”19 Habyarimana reiterated the government preconditions for negotiations at the end of October 1990: Rwanda has always favored exibility, and it will never reject the idea that may allow a rapid and peaceful settlement to be reached. Nonetheless, for Rwanda, there is no question of holding direct negotiations with our aggressors as long as their departure from Rwandan territory does not occur as an integral part of some agreement. Rwandese public opinion is strongly against me talking directly to the assailants so we have asked Zaire to facilitate the dialogue. This is how Rwanda denes its moves: a cease-re followed by the assailants’ withdrawal. The negotiations expected in the framework of permanent solutions to the refugee problem can only take place after the departure of the assailants who-and the world is beginning to be convinced about this-are in no way interested in or motivated by the refugee problem.20

Thus, despite assistance from “friends of Rwanda,”21 Mobutu’s mediation efforts in November 1990 met Rwanda’s unyielding stance. Even though Mobutu made overtures to the RPF, the government either refused to participate or to send representatives who had no negotiating mandate.22 There was no change in the government’s approach to the conict because Habyarimana claimed he would win the war, as he bragged in November 1990: “You know that after the October attack against us, it took us a whole month to repulse the biggest part of the aggression, but some of the assailants having retreated into our national park, it took a month to clean up our national park. So in late November there was no aggression on Rwandan territory. They retreated to Uganda.”23 Seeking to rebut the government’s denials of its viability, the RPF reorganized its forces by recruiting soldiers along the border with Uganda. From its ethnic Tutsi base, the guerilla war attracted Hutu sympathizers, transforming the RPF into an inter-ethnic alliance. In January 1991, the RPF captured Ruhengeri, a

TANZANIA MEDIATES RWANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1992–1993

63

strategic northern town, and released political prisoners. The Ruhengeri attack was important as a demonstration that the RPF could strike at the Hutu heartland and would not be ignored at the negotiating table.24

Issues and Actors II, January 1991–June 1992: Return of Refugees or Power-Sharing? Parties in civil conicts invite external actors as mediators with mixed motives, some of whom invariably constrain their future action. Habyarimana invited Tanzania and Zaire to postpone dealing with the insurgency, but the pressure of regional diplomatic initiatives legitimated the RPF as an indispensable part of any settlement. While the government thus far had succeeded in spurning direct negotiations, Habyarimana’s mediators lent credibility to the RPF by engaging it in a dialogue. Mobutu’s November 1990 initiatives, and those that followed in 1991, became critical in altering perceptions about the RPF and establishing its status a negotiating partner. Insurgents in civil conicts search for battleeld parity to establish equality at the bargaining table. But where there are overwhelming military disadvantages, third parties bolster the bargaining status of weak parties by engaging them in talks. In addition, the government’s propensity to use regional actors to forestall the growing insurgency, emboldened the RPF military campaign. The role of Habyarimana’s regional and international allies in lending credence to the RPF’s underlying claims was demonstrated after the abortive Mobutu-led cease-re talks in November 1990. Consistent with the government’s strategy of inviting external actors to address problems that it felt unable to resolve, Habyarimana proposed discussions on the “regional crisis of Rwandese refugees.”25 Although the Mwanza and Gbadolite conferences had envisaged such a regional conference on refugees after the attainment of a cease-re, the government saw it as a means to undercut the RPF’s objectives of refugee resettlement and power sharing. The centerpiece of the government’ policy on refugees was to plead demographic pressure with the hope that regional states would naturalize most of the Tutsi refugees.26 With the bulk of the responsibility shifted to neighboring states, the government could choose who had the right to return. Habyarimana’s European allies supported a regional solution to this question, as Jacques Pelletier, French Minister of International Cooperation, indicated on his visit to the region in November 1990: There is an urgent need for a regional conference on refugees to resolve this problem. Some of the refugees certainly wish to return home, but they are denitely

64

CHAPTER THREE

a minority. The others wish, above all, to have access to a national identity and to be, if necessary, allowed to spend a few days in Rwanda to visit family members . . . If the states of the region manage to hold this meeting, I believe this will probably allow this important regional problem to be resolved. Europe, the French, and Belgians in particular, is ready to assist with material and nancial resources, but the key to the solution remains in the hands of the states in the region. Africans themselves must solve this problem.27

The conference on Rwandese refugees was held in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, in February 1991 and brought together Rwanda’s neighbors, the OAU, and the United Nations High Commission for Refugees (UNHCR). Habyarimana promised to remove all obstacles impeding the voluntary return and reintegration of refugees into Rwandan society. He also promised to grant an amnesty to refugees who had committed crimes against the state after concluding a cease-re agreement with the RPF. In return, Uganda, Burundi, Tanzania, and Zaire agreed to naturalize and integrate refugees who wanted to settle outside Rwanda. The commitment by Rwanda’s neighbors to absorb some refugees partly fullled the government’s aim of burden sharing. It also enabled Habyarimana to project a exible image on national reconciliation and reinforced his position of selective integration of a minority of refugees. But the conference did not entirely sidestep the question of nding a negotiated solution to the insurgency for it requested Mobutu to continue the dialogue toward cease-re talks.28 The RPF’s chairman, Alex Kanyarengwe, derided the agreement on refugees and laid down the conditions for dialogue: “The refugee problem is in practice secondary to the institutional problem of dictatorship and oppression . . . Habyarimana is using the refugee problem to deny the military presence of the RPF, to buy and coax time and win more support from his foreign friends. We propose rst the resignation of the government, discussion of national constitution, and then a cease-re, and the withdrawal of foreign forces.”29 Building on the regional mandate, Mobutu restarted his mediation culminating in a cease-re agreement signed at N’sele, Zaire on March 29, 1991. The N’sele Agreement proposed the immediate cessation of hostilities as a prelude to “serious negotiations on power-sharing between the two parties under the auspices of the mediator.” An OAU Neutral Military Observers Group (NMOG) from Burundi, Uganda, Tanzania, and Zaire would monitor the cease-re. Although the agreement stipulated the withdrawal of foreign troops after NMOG’s deployment, it made exception for “military expatriates currently in Rwanda due to bilateral cooperation agreements.”30 For the RPF, the triumph of N’sele agreement was in the process rather than the results. Negotiating alongside government representatives fullled its quest for recognition and credibility. As one of the RPF’s participants said: “For

TANZANIA MEDIATES RWANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1992–1993

65

the rst time, the government acknowledged that we were a force to contend with, operating on Rwandese territory. It was important for the government to admit that we were a viable force and that the conict was about state power and power sharing, not merely about refugees. With this recognition, Habyarimana could no longer bargain away the RPF by using regional leaders. The recognition of our military presence was a major event.”31 Mobutu described the cease-re agreement as a “victory for African-style dialogue which should always prevail in settling conicts,” but doubts about its implementation surfaced when Habyarimana reiterated that it did not amount to “the recognition of this foreign entity as a national political institution.”32 The war resumed in April 1991 after the RPF had rejected the government’s amnesty. With the war’s resumption, the government concentrated on internal political reforms to preempt the RPF’s power sharing demands. Foreign Minister Bizimungu explained that: “The issue of power sharing must be viewed simply and merely in the framework of the multiparty system Rwanda is creating. Now that political parties are being formed, I think that those of the Patriotic Front members who will eventually return, when they return, will join one of the political parties registered in Rwanda.”33

Internal Reforms: Sources of Vulnerability and Points of Entry The multiple actors that intervened in Rwanda had eroded the sovereignty that Habyarimana had sought to protect since the October 1990 invasion. In the same vein, when authoritarian governments start to reform, as Alexis de Tocqueville recognized long ago, they weaken themselves in the eyes of their domestic challengers, particularly when the reforms occur under pressure.34 Although there had been challenges to Habyarimana’s one-party dictatorship, the strains of the guerrilla war compounded the regime’s escalating woes, transforming political reforms into acts of weakness rather than strength. Having started the reforms, the government furnished regime opponents with more ammunition when it tried to stall the momentum for additional changes that threatened to torpedo the status quo. Reforming under the strain of civil war also had the additional dimensions of fostering new political actors who became signicant players in course of the negotiations. As some reforms opened the space for new actors, the previously bilateral conict between the Habyarimana and the RPF became a multiple game, with potential for forging new alliances. Even though the government retained the upper hand in capabilities and organization, opening up of formerly constricted avenues of participation furnished the RPF with

66

CHAPTER THREE

strategic allies in the search for legitimacy and acceptance. Reforms, ultimately, generated a momentum of their own, creating vistas of vulnerability and pressure points for the challengers. Habyarimana had announced a program for a transition to multiparty democracy in July 1990, but the RPF invasion had emboldened local political opposition groups who began to agitate for fundamental change. Although the government initially responded to this challenge by declaring a state of emergency and detaining pro-reform activists, it eventually appointed a national review commission to recommend political reforms and draft a national political charter that would eventually form the basis for a new constitution.35 In December 1990, the commission concluded its review of the constitution and, in June 1991, the legislature passed a new constitution that created a multiparty system and dual executive with shared power between the president and prime minister.36 With the onset of pluralism, there were six major political parties that emerged on Rwanda’s political landscape. The Republican National Movement for Reconstruction, and Democracy (Mouvement Revolutionnaire National pour le Developpement, MRND), the Republican Democratic Movement (Mouvement Democratique Republicain, MDR), the Liberal Party (Parti Liberal), the Christian Democratic Party (Parti Chretien Democratique, PDC), the Social Democratic Party (Parti Socialiste Democratique, PSD) and the Coalition for the Defense of the Republic (Coalition pour la Defense de la Republique, CDR). The two major parties, the MRND and MDR were led by Habyarimana’s and Dismas Nsengiyaremye respectively. As part of the changing domestic forces, the MDR organized moderate parties, the PSD and PL in an alliance, the Democratic Force for Change, while the pro-government allies, the PDC and CDR, coalesced around the Alliance for the Reinforcement of Democracy. In late fall 1991, Habyarimana appointed a prime minister and authorized him to begin negotiations with opposition parties about a transitional government of national unity pending multiparty elections.37 The internal reforms, intended by the government to nullify the RPF demands on the absence of democracy, altered the domestic balance of power by gradually circumscribing Habyarimana’s options in negotiations. The result was, as one commentator aptly put it, a “tenuous cohabitation of representatives of the old regime and a transitional government in which former members of the single party are now in a minority.”38 The RPF saw the reforms as a vindication of its drive for fundamental change and an opportunity to foster domestic alliances among the moderate political parties. These parties evolved as the most consistent watchdogs of the pace and content of reforms, but more critically, they put a moderate political face on the RPF demands for direct negotiations.

TANZANIA MEDIATES RWANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1992–1993

67

As the guerrilla war continued to strain an economy already reeling under the World Bank’s structural adjustment policies and closure of the Uganda border, opposition parties took the leading role in proposals for power sharing negotiations as a way out the crisis.39 In a major breakthrough in April 1992, the government and opposition parties signed an agreement that established a multiparty transitional government in which Habyarimana shared power with an opposition Prime Minister, Dismas Nsengiyaremye, of the MDR. As part of this deal, Habyarimana agreed to initiate talks with the RPF.40 Habyarimana’s concessions to internal parties set the pace for the Arusha talks as an RPF commentator noted: “President Habyarimana was compelled to accept the internal parties in a desperate hope to nullify RPF demands on the absence of democracy, while hoping to use them against the RPF. This was a step in the right direction since the political parties matured to the extent that some of them were incorporated in the broad-based transitional government.”41 The transitional government established a dual executive power structure in Kigali with shared power between the president and the prime minister. Since both represented different ideological strains in the domestic alliances, over the course of the negotiations, these divisions had dire consequences on the government’s negotiating positions. The immediate impact of the multiparty transitional government on the peace process, however, was twofold. First, it allowed prominent members of opposition parties to begin secret talks with the RPF. Second, the appointment of a new Foreign Minister, Boniface Ngulinzira, allied to the moderate prime minister, was decisive in starting serious dialogue.42 Ngulinzira for the government and Patrick Mazimpaka for the RPF led the prenegotiations talks that began in Kampala in May and concluded in Paris in June 1992. French and U.S. involvement ensured the success of the prenegotiations. Meeting with Ugandan and Rwandan leaders in May 1992, U.S. Assistant Secretary of State for African Affairs, Herman Cohen, urged a negotiated settlement without preconditions. Cohen and the Director of African Affairs in the French foreign ministry, Henri Dijoud, brought the two sides together for the Paris talks.43 Foreign Minister Ngulinzira observed that: “The Paris meeting rst gave the two parties an opportunity to afrm their political will to negotiate a solution to the current conict and its underlying political problems. In Paris we both sought to adopt attitudes conducive to the search for peace.”44 During the prenegotiation talks, there was agreement to proceed with negotiations embracing power sharing, democracy, and national unity. The talks established the parameters for the Arusha talks dividing the deliberations around a cease-re, the composition of a military observer team to oversee it, power-sharing, democracy, the rule of law, national unity, integration of

68

CHAPTER THREE

the RPF into the national army, and repatriation and resettlement of refugees. The parties agreed to focus rst on a cease-re as a way of building mutual condence and because there already existed structures stemming from the abortive N’sele agreement.45 Divisions in the prenegotiations centered on the nature of international contribution to the peace process, particularly the choice of mediator, the venue, and the OAU and UN functions. Although Mobutu had been designated as the mediator since the refugee conference in April 1991, his credibility had declined precipitously after the collapse of the N’sele Agreement. Furthermore, internal violence in Zaire arising from opposition demands for a national conference on power sharing had tarnished Mobutu’s peacemaking image, making him unable to end the Rwandan war. In the words of one RPF ofcial, everybody by this point was in agreement that Mobutu was not a serious mediator.46 As a result of Mobutu’s declining stature, the Rwandan government sought the mediation of Western countries which, Habyarimana was convinced, would not only have leverage on Uganda and the RPF, but also would be more sympathetic to Kigali. Efforts to nd a Western mediator targeted the United States. On the eve of the Paris talks in June 1992, Foreign Minister Ngulinzira acknowledged that the Rwandan government had asked for U.S. mediation.47 With Washington’s post-cold war reluctance to get involved in African conicts, especially in Africa, the government, with prodding from France, suggested Senegal as a compromise primarily because President Abdou Diouf was then OAU chairman. The RPF, however, opposed Senegalese mediation because of Diouf’s demanding schedule, his limited knowledge of the principal parties, and Dakar’s remoteness from the conict. Tanzania became the compromise venue because of its accessibility to the parties, its proximity, and its leadership’s involvement in the Mwanza and Dar es Salaam peace efforts. But rather than alienating Zaire, the parties also struck a compromise that retained Mobutu as the “mediator” while Tanzania’s role was designated as that of a “facilitator.”48 As a meddler with the potential to create obstacles to the mediation, Mobutu had to be treated with extreme care. As an RPF ofcial observed, As a matter of pragmatism, nobody wanted to alienate Mobutu. He wanted to be regarded as the ‘natural mediator’ in Rwanda because of his previous active involvement. He wanted to be respected as a regional ‘big brother.’ He would cause trouble if he was excluded from subsequent processes. To manage Mobutu, we agreed that he should remain the nominal mediator, but Tanzania became the ofcial facilitator. Though he was not actively involved in Arusha, he received constant reports on the proceedings.49

Equally vital to the mediation was the decision to accord observer status at the Arusha negotiations to representatives of Western countries (the United

TANZANIA MEDIATES RWANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1992–1993

69

States, the United Kingdom, Germany, France and Belgium), African states (Uganda, Burundi, Senegal, Zimbabwe, Nigeria and Zaire), the OAU, and the UN. Their presence sustained the multilateral character of previous efforts to end the conict and allowed each party to claim allies at the table. Western representatives, in particular, provided reassurance to a government deeply divided about the wisdom of negotiations and helped the parties in framing positions.50 The presence of representatives from the neighboring countries was important to demonstrate regional support for a settlement. In all, the multilateral character of the observer group gave the mediators additional sources of leverage and ideas in critical phases of the negotiations. One of the RPF participants stated that “dealing with so many actors in Arusha was a problem. Pressures from the observers gave us headaches, but the multilateral nature of the talks gave them more credibility.”51

Arusha Phase One: July–August 1992 Military pressure and domestic pluralism were central pillars in the ripening of Rwanda’s conict toward a negotiated settlement. The former had weakened central authority and had bolstered the insurgent’s bargaining power while the latter had enlarged the constituencies with a stake in peaceful settlement. From a perceived appendage of Uganda’s NRM, the RPF had achieved, through military pressure, the standing and status as a negotiating partner. Habyarimana’s military and political weakness, however, shifted the structure of authority among the contesting groups. Military weakness combined with new political parties to circumscribe governmental authority necessary to begin negotiations, but it also engendered alliances that felt threatened by the erosion of state power.52 On the eve of the Arusha talks, the conict’s uidity presented the Tanzanian mediators with a double-edged challenge. For while the government’s tacit recognition of the dual military structure (a critical facet of the stalemate) was adequate to induce the negotiations, it would demand the mediator’s organizational leverage to sustain them. Furthermore, even though negotiations are, as Stedman says, about marginalizing extremists from the conicting sides,53 this task was magnied for the mediators by a communal conict that was undergoing pluralism. By unleashing new actors in the domestic power structure, the move toward pluralism engendered numerous constituencies with dire consequences for the peace process. Tanzania emerged as the mediator reecting the balance between proximity and knowledge, credibility and leverage, issues that are germane to organizational power. The cultural and trust-based approaches to mediation assume that

70

CHAPTER THREE

successful parties are those that are proximate to, and knowledgeable about the conict.54 These two factors make mediators acceptable to the parties and furnish the leverage necessary to propel movement during the negotiations. Knowledge of the conict’s complexity, particularly the familiarity with parties and their concerns, often come to (but may not be restricted to) actors within the same geographical setting. Such proximity to the conict also means that the mediators have an interest in outcomes that lessen the conict’s harmful effects. As Assefa puts it: “they are connected on a long term basis . . . in practical terms this means that the peacemakers do not ‘enter’ and ‘leave’ the situation, when their work ‘begins’ and ‘ends.’ They are thus a part of the setting and must ultimately live with the consequences of their work.”55 In this regard, geographic proximity endows mediators with enormous stakes in the deescalation of conicts. Parties in communal conicts are also likely to invite mediators who have a record of successful national integration, with a reputation for orderly political processes, and a leadership that has domestic and regional credibility. The parties to the Rwandese conict described these reputational variables as the principal motives for the choice of Tanzania. National credibility demonstrated in the years of relative political stability and orderly presidential successions seemed to provide Tanzania with the moral mettle of engaging in a process that entailed prescribing constitutional arrangements in a civil war. This is the factor that precluded the acceptance of Mobutu’s Zaire, despite his prior mediation role. Although proximity and knowledge of the issues are useful qualities in a mediator, they do not guarantee success. While these factors may, at times, assist entry and invitation and enhance the parties’ condence toward the mediator, leverage is obtained by mobilizing resources and by the creative action of individual actors during the negotiations. Although Tanzania did not possess sufcient leverage on the parties, the presence of diverse actors in Arusha provided it with the collective clout for mediation. As a case of national mediation anchored within a multilateral context, the Arusha setting allowed Tanzania to derive the advantages of collective power without the organizational encumbrances of having multiple parties (with potentially competing interests) at the same negotiating site. To augment the organizational capacity of the mediation, Tanzania assigned the Ministry of Foreign Affairs the responsibility of conducting the process. Although its Foreign Ministers chaired most of the negotiating sessions, Ambassador Ami Mpungwe, an ofcial in the ministry, was the principal mediator in charge of the talks. This role ensured continuity and competence and precluded exposing the often over-burdened high government ofcials to

TANZANIA MEDIATES RWANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1992–1993

71

an arduous process with uncertain outcomes.56 Various participants described Ambassador Mpungwe as a fair, patient, and experienced mediator: “he endured enormous pressure from all sides and stayed the course.”57 Reecting on the components of organizational power that were the hallmarks of Mpungwe’s leadership, Jones notes that the Tanzanian government gave him freedom to design the Arusha process: He did so with three principles in mind. First, the structure of the process should be designed so as to facilitate communication between the two parties. Second, the process should last for a long time to allow for changing perceptions as well as negotiation of a detailed text. Third, his own role, and that of his negotiation team, was not to hammer out a deal between the two but to facilitate dialogue and communication, channel input from the ‘observers,’ and create an environment in which the parties to the process could reach a mutually acceptable agreement. Moreover, Mpungwe’s desired outcome was clear: not just a settlement that would freeze the conict for a brief period but a political resolution to the conict and its (perceived) underlying causes, one that would be durable and even a model for African internal conict.58

Unlike Moi’s mediation in Uganda where the head of state had played an overbearing and disproportionate role in the negotiations, President Mwinyi only intervened in the negotiations when his services would make a signicant difference. Excluding President Mwinyi from the talks contributed to lessening the media pressure that accompanied regional summits, the hallmark of preceding conict resolution efforts. The low-level Arusha venue provided a relaxed and conducive setting that permitted both parties and the mediator to limit the publicity and high expectations that often impede protracted negotiations.59 The RPF had a unied delegation in Arusha led by Pasteur Bizimingu, a member of its executive committee; foreign affairs spokesman, Mazimpaka, and Secretary General of the RPF, Theogene Rudasingwa. The government delegation, however, mirrored the tensions within the multiparty coalition government. Led by moderate MDR Foreign Minister Ngulinzira, the delegation also included Claver Kanyarushoki, Rwanda’s ambassador to Uganda, Habyarimana’s close ally, and Colonel Bagasora, from the militant CDR. Over the course of the Arusha talks, conicts between the moderate Prime Minister and Habyarimana’s extremist allies in Kigali over substantive issues at the negotiating table further paralyzed the fractured government delegation. As a result of the government delegation’s divisions, the Arusha negotiations became a trilateral rather than bilateral exercise: Ngulinzira had to negotiate with the RPF and the Habyarimana’s MRND power structure.60 One participant described Ngulinzira as an honest, but beleaguered person: “he never got clear instructions from home, never had the full negotiating mandate, neither did he have his delegation with him. The two competing centers of power in Kigali

72

CHAPTER THREE

were his main failing. He ended up working under extreme circumstances, leading a group of extremists who never respected his role. But without him, most of the provisions of agreement would not have been reached.”61 During the opening ceremonies of the talks on July 10, 1992, Tanzania’s Foreign Minister Ahmed Hassan Diria, pledged Tanzania’s assistance to the peace efforts. He also urged the disputants to overcome the “psychological barriers that had been separating them for the past twenty-one months, and be exible to enable concessions to be made on each side.” Rwanda’s Ngulinzira observed that the conict posed “the universal questions of how to accede, exercise, and quit power,” and promised “a frank and open dialogue” with the RPF. The absence of direct dialogue, Ngulinzira conceded, had contributed to the RPF’s radicalization. Nevertheless, for its demands to be discussed properly, he suggested that “the two parties should sign an amended agreement updating the N’sele cease-re . . . and commit themselves to implementing it immediately, provided efcient monitoring mechanisms are established.”62 The RPF’s Bizimungu accused the government of prolonging the civil war by violating earlier cease-re agreements and urged it to take steps to achieve national unity and “true democracy.” He called for the RPF’s integration in the national army as a precondition for ending the war and the return of refugees “without any threats.”63 The Tanzanian mediation team invited both parties to agree to a schedule that allotted deadlines for specic items on the agenda. Injecting a sense of urgency in the deliberation, the team established January 10, 1993 as the dateline for the end of the negotiations. Consistent with the approach the parties had agreed upon in Paris in June 1992, the negotiations proceeded in an incremental fashion ending every phase with signed protocols. Denoting partial agreements for building condence, the protocols became an essential component of the fractionating process. The key to this strategy, according to a participant, was to dene the issues in narrow terms so the parties could build on incremental agreements as they worked toward the larger agreement: “Protocols as a mode of reaching gradual agreements generated momentum and broke complex issues into negotiable pieces. In difcult times, they stood as glimmers of hope, signs that we were making progress and that there would be an end to the arduous process.”64 Initial attention was devoted to cease-re negotiations for two reasons. First, Tanzanian mediators shared the parties’ belief that the political issues separating them would be insoluble in a climate of increased military hostilities. In their view, a cease-re was integral to conict reduction that would facilitate negotiations. As one participant noted, “It would be easier, given the history of the conict, to negotiate in relative peace rather than work toward coopera-

TANZANIA MEDIATES RWANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1992–1993

73

tion in an environment of ongoing conict.”65 Second, the previous ceasere negotiations attempts had established institutional arrangements, notably the OAU Neutral Military Observer Group (NMOG) , that could be reactivated to verify compliance. Negotiations for the cease-re coincided with an RPF offensive that captured more areas in the northern Rwanda, eliciting French military reinforcements to protect the government.66 Despite this escalation, the negotiators reached a cease-re agreement in four days of talks. The agreement, effective at the end of July 1992, proposed boosting the NMOG to a 50-man contingent from Senegal, Nigeria, and Zimbabwe, which would separate the armed forces and set up neutral zones. A major innovation of the agreement was a politicalmilitary commission comprising representatives from neighboring and Western countries to oversee NMOG and coordinate the implementation of a nal peace agreement.67 Uganda and Rwanda sought to reduce pressure along their common border following the cease-re agreement. On August 8, 1992, the two countries signed a security agreement that set up teams to jointly monitor their territorial boundaries. Museveni and Habyarimana’s summit in Bujumbura, Burundi, in the same month also contributed to boosting the bargaining environment in Arusha.68 The second round of negotiations between 10 and 18 August 1992 concentrated on rule of law issues. Mpungwe stated that the parties needed to focus on these issues to establish an “ideological set of values” that would form the basis for negotiating detailed power-sharing procedures.69 These talks ended with the signing of a protocol on the rule of law that provided for the establishment of democratic institutions that would respect human rights and guarantee national unity. By the end of the second round, the NMOG structures had been instituted and the cease-re was holding. But as the negotiations shifted toward power sharing, conicts between Habyarimana and the Prime Minister began to surface. Habyarimana acknowledged the paralysis in government noting that “cabinet meeting decisions are no longer made in a collegial way and the hierarchy and authority of the state is held to ridicule.”70 Putting a stamp on his declining authority, he reiterated the sanctity of Rwanda’s 1991 constitution in August 1992: “The team of negotiators the government sent to Arusha was fully instructed [about the constitution]. Precise instructions were also given to them so that now, more than ever before, they may adopt the language of national consensus, so that the positions they adopt are no longer improvised, and so that cohesion can be achieved.”71

74

CHAPTER THREE

To one observer, this statement amounted to a warning to Habyarimana’s coalition partners: “It was like telling them: ‘You people, you are not doing what I told you to do. If you do not stop there, I will use my Constitution to take measures against you. You will also remember that before you joined the government, you agreed to respect the Constitution.’”72 Tanzania also invited the RPF’s chairman Kanyarengwe to meetings with senior government ofcials to explain the RPF’s future programs and policies. This gesture lent further diplomatic credence to the RPF and boosted its condence at the negotiating table at a time when the government appeared to be in disarray.73

Negotiating Power Sharing, September 1992–January 1993 For Tanzanian mediators, negotiating a cease-re and its components had been a relatively easy task. Although the cease-re had deescalated the conict and had spawned the momentum for talks, its viability hinged on the pace of power sharing negotiations that revealed the problems of creating a constitutional arrangement against the backdrop of mistrust, a fragile cease-re, and a fractured coalition government. Additionally, although the mediators had committed the parties to the parameters of a future constitutional order, these negotiations tested the extent of this commitment, and the resources each party could deploy in sustaining its position. At the start of the power sharing negotiations on September 9, 1992, Mpungwe directed each side to present a memorandum of its position followed by a general debate. The rst two stages enabled the parties to publicize their proposals in Arusha and to the wider domestic audience. Through this open defense, the mediator could gauge the commitment and resolve the parties assigned to various positions. After both sides had exchanged views on the documents, the mediator constituted a committee composed of two members from each party and one representative from the OAU and Tanzania that produced a single working document.74 The committee approach allowed the mediators to control communications between the parties, coordinate the exchange of concessions, and develop creative alternatives in the face of deadlocks. The OAU’s representation on the committee reinforced the sense of collective African responsibility in forging consensus and compromise. Whenever serious obstacles arose, the mediators held separate explorations with each party and endeavored to change perceptions of the problems. Instilling a sense of urgency to the talks, the mediator gave the parties only 10 days to conclude the power-sharing phase of the negotiations.75

TANZANIA MEDIATES RWANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1992–1993

75

The government proposed that the June 1991 constitution be the legal framework for managing the transition to a new political order. As the constituted power, the government invited the RPF to join other political parties in the transitional government, pending elections in six months. Before the elections, the government proposed the formation of a special commission comprising all political forces that would debate national problems and propose solutions to issues such as national unity, reconciliation, public security, and refugees. The RPF’s proposals differed radically from the government’s in two areas. First, instead of the existing constitution, it proposed the establishment of a National Reconciliation Committee (NRC) within three months after the signing of a peace agreement. Composed of ten members divided among the RPF, MDR, PL, PSD, and PDC. This body would combine legislative and executive powers, taking charge of central and territorial administrative structures. Second, in a transition period staggered over fours years, the NRC would repatriate refugees, write a new constitution, and hold local, parliamentary, and presidential elections.76 The government objected to the RPF’s document and noted that it contradicted the separation of powers enshrined in the Protocol on the Rule of Law and would potentially create a dangerous power vacuum: “the Rwandan side invites the RPF to participate in the Transitional Government and bring about the necessary improvements instead of aiming to overthrow all the institutions already established.”77 The ten-day deadline expired in mid-September 1992, without signs of an agreement, but to prevent the appearance of stalemate, Mpungwe prevailed on the parties to announce the interim areas of consensus before adjournment. The interim agreement reached on September 22, 1992 revealed that the RPF had made concessions on power sharing, specically dropping the demand for the abolition of the transitional government and separation of powers. In return, the government conceded to changes that would facilitate RPF participation in the management of the transition. During the September 1992 adjournment, the parties embarked on additional condence-building measures by holding a session of the joint political-military commission and by appointing military experts to begin preliminary discussions of the technical matters pertaining to setting up a national army.78 In early October 1992, power-sharing talks resumed amidst intense disagreements in the coalition government about the course of the negotiations. The unstable internal power balance in Kigali began to weigh on the Arusha talks as the numerous constituencies fought over the concessions. As an indication of the fraying coalition government, three moderate internal parties allied to the Prime Minister, the PL, PDC and PSD, accused Habyarimana of obstructing

76

CHAPTER THREE

peace talks. The lack of a negotiating mandate hindered decision-making as the government delegation spoke in discordant voices. The RPF’s Kanyarengwe complained that “to avoid this unnecessary standstill, it is time for the president of the Republic to become realistic and play a signicant role in the peace negotiations rather than engage in this hide-and-seek game. This would make it possible for the implementation of the resolutions agreed upon.”79 The divisions between the coalition government’s moderates and extremists mirrored the weight each side put on presidential power, a question that occupied the second round of political negotiations in October 1992. Intent on managing the transition without surrendering much power, supporters of Habyarimana favored dividing presidential powers into two categories: presidential prerogatives that would not be shared, and executive powers, that would be shared between the President and Prime Minister. But the RPF rejected these proposals, saying that democracy could not prevail during the transition if the President retained excessive executive power.80 Amidst the power sharing talks, the internal balance of power shifted from the Prime Minister Nsengiyaremye toward Habyarimana’s allies. In the words of a former government ofcial, “there were more heated negotiations in Kigali than in Arusha once the extremists in government began to feel that they were being gradually marginalized by the moderate foreign minister Ngulinzira.”81 The extremists directed their ire at the Prime Minister for failing to consult the cabinet on the transitional arrangements in Arusha. The political bureau of Habyarimana party complained about “the unacceptable attitude of the prime minister who, instead of doing what is necessary to bring the positions of his team members closer in order to reach decisions that would reect a consensus, has opted to giving the Rwandan delegation in Arusha unlimited powers to decide on behalf of the government on matters which are as delicate as they are important for the future of the country.”82 In another indication of growing internal pressures on the government negotiators, representatives of major political parties met with Habyarimana and requested the regime “to clearly dene the procedures and mechanisms for approval and implementation of the agreements resulting from the Arusha negotiations in such manner that these agreements should reect the maximum national consensus possible and ensure that they can be implemented and respected.”83 In committee negotiations throughout October 1992, both sides made concessions on the structure of a future transitional government. The protocol on power sharing within a broad-based transitional government was signed on October 30, 1992 and was comprised of the constitutional provisions that became the heart of the Arusha agreement. Its key provisions included: Habyarimana

TANZANIA MEDIATES RWANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1992–1993

77

would remain president during the transition, but most of his powers would be curtailed by a cabinet led by a Prime Minister; as the head of government, the Prime Minister would exercise executive power through consensus in the cabinet; a transitional national assembly would be established to assist the cabinet in governing; and a judiciary independent of the executive and the legislature would be established. The transitional government’s goals were to implement democracy, consolidate national security and reconciliation, repatriate refugees, and establish the mechanisms for post-war reconstruction.84 The power-sharing agreement ignited an extremist backlash against the Arusha negotiations. Stripping the presidency of most of its powers challenged the foundations of Habyarimana’s legitimacy and unleashed increasing opposition toward the Arusha process. Even before the parties began negotiations on the details of the cabinet’s composition and a new transitional legislative assembly, relations between Habyarimana and prime minister, Nsengiyaremye deteriorated as was demonstrated in violent demonstrations among their supporters in Kigali.85 In a speech on October 15, 1992, Habyarimana heightened the conict by denouncing the Arusha protocols as “scraps of paper,” and urged his party’s militia, the Interahamwe, to give him unconditional support. Prime Minister Nsengiyaremye responded in a letter to the President that underscored the severity of the internal crisis: The program of the government has as its major objective, the negotiation of a peace agreement with the RPF. This approach reects the aspiration of all Rwandans who are mindful of their country’s future. As there is no military solution to the fratricidal war Rwanda has been living through for the last two years, a negotiated solution is paramount for all the protagonists. The Arusha negotiations are being conducted by the Rwandan Government through a delegation led by the minister for foreign affairs and cooperation. The negotiations are carried out openly, on the basis of decisions made by the Council of Ministers and on the basis of working documents prepared by ad hoc bodies instituted by the Council of Ministers . . . it is your duty to clarify your position on the pursuit of the Arusha negotiations and the fate of the agreements that have been signed. Indeed the two tongues in which you speak on the issue misleads those who have committed themselves body and soul to bring peace back to the country . . . in light of your statement about agreements being just pieces of paper, we have the right to wonder if this is tantamount to a veiled denunciation of the Arusha agreements . . . If by any chance it is a denunciation of the agreements, then you will have to take responsibility before the Rwandan people and history for the disastrous consequence of that position.86

Placing the Arusha talks in a broader international dimension, he continued: The active participation of the international community is a proof of the importance of the current negotiations and of the weight of the agreements concluded. It is thus an illusion to think that a party or a group of individuals can defy

78

CHAPTER THREE

the international community by hampering the peace process for shameful and unknown reasons. The credibility of the government lies in its strict respect of commitments made to a third party, whether there are witnesses or not, and all the more so when such commitments fall within an international dynamic. As Rwanda wants to be a law-based state and behave as such, it is the duty of the Rwandan Government to respect scrupulously the national and international commitments it has subscribed to. In this respect, the Arusha agreements cannot in any way be considered as pieces of paper, but rather as a denite and solemn commitment of the Rwandan people and Government.87

The ensuing stalemate in Arusha presented Tanzania with its rst major obstacle in the mediation. Tanzania faced the choice of treating the deadlock as an inevitable outcome of Rwanda’s pluralism or a as sign that there was an obstacle to the resumption of the Arusha negotiations. The former would have amounted to bolstering those who shared Habyarimana’s depiction of the protocols as “scraps of paper.” But in taking more forceful measures to restart the talks, Tanzania risked further alienating extremists in Kigali who saw the Arusha process as a threat to their power and privileges. To break the stalemate, the mediation team sought to mobilize leverage beyond the negotiating table, using the clout of the ofce of Tanzania’s presidency to add pressure on Habyarimana. African presidents are most effective in assisting mediation of communal conicts when they exercise inuence on the parties outside the formal negotiations, particularly when the parties are deadlocked. Such targeted intervention produces better division of labor among the arms of government and ensures a more useful deployment of presidential power. When the talks seemed to be on the verge of collapse in mid-November 1992, President Mwinyi held talks with regional leaders on the state of the Rwandan peace process. In public statements that supported the Arusha protocols and reiterated the urgency of a negotiated solution to the conict, Mwinyi and Museveni successfully nudged the parties back to the negotiating table.88 On November 24, 1992 the talks resumed and concentrated on the structure of the Transitional National Assembly (TNA) and the cabinet. The parties reached a compromise on a TNA nominated by all the political parties, but continued divisions stymied the negotiations on the distribution of ministerial posts. To resolve the latter problems, major political parties requested the mediation of a neutral “contact committee” of Rwanda’s leading church groups which proposed a 21-member cabinet. The presidency would go to the MRND, the premiership to the MDR, and the deputy premiership to the RPF. The smaller parties, the PL, PSD, and PDC would each obtain three ministerial portfolios. Most of the cabinet approved the proposal, but the MRND disavowed it, declining to give government negotiators the mandate to proceed with the talks.

TANZANIA MEDIATES RWANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1992–1993

79

Furthermore, the MRND warned “the mediators and observers [in Arusha] against getting involved in negotiations the results that might not be accepted by the Rwandan people.”89 In late November 1992, against the backdrop of the MRND’s objections, the cabinet appealed to Habyarimana to “convince his ministers to end the obstruction aimed at aborting the Arusha negotiations and to place the nation’s supreme interests rst.”90 The RPF worsened the deadlock over cabinet positions by rejecting the proposal because of what it claimed was a skewed power distribution in favor of the internal parties. This stance, however, placed the RPF in the uncomfortable position of siding with the coalition government’s extremists. For this reason, RPF negotiators scaled down some of their power-sharing demands to prevent undercutting the positions of their internal allies and endangering the successful, but fragile, cease-re agreement. As one the RPF negotiators said: “the only logical way to isolate extremists in the government was through a long term peace agreement, an achievement that would not have come without short term, but painful concessions.”91 In December 1992, Habyarimana raised new obstacles by suggesting that “to ensure that the agreements are legally enforceable and the entire Rwandan people back them, negotiators must . . . seek approval for the agreements . . . by the way of the current CND [assembly] or by means of a referendum.”92 At the same time, a statement from his ofce belittled the Arusha process as “exploratory rather than actual negotiations,” eliciting a rare demonstration of collective power by the Western and African observers at Arusha who threatened to boycott the negotiations. They rescinded this threat after Foreign Minister Ngulinzira pleaded that Arusha was the best venue for the negotiations, not Kigali.93 To avert paralysis of the peace process, Tanzania arranged consultations between Mwinyi, Habyarimana, and Museveni.94 From mid-December 1992 to early January 1993, talks led to a Protocol on the Allocation of Cabinet Positions and the Transitional Assembly, which ended the power sharing negotiations. A major bone of contention in these talks was Habyarimana’s insistence on the inclusion of the CDR in the transitional government, a proposal that the RPF argued against because of the CDR’s extremism and links to Habyarimana’s party.95 In the end, the RPF prevailed and twenty-two cabinet positions were divided thusly: six positions, including the presidency to the MRND, four, including the prime minister to the MDR, ve, including the deputy prime minister to the RPF, three each to the PSD, and PL, and one to the PDC. The legislature would be composed of a 70-member TNA, appointed on an equal basis by major political parties.96

80

CHAPTER THREE

Tanzania hailed the January 1993 power sharing agreement as an indication of the parties’ readiness to overcome obstacles and “cross the Rubicon on the way to peace.” But the MRND repudiated the agreement since it had curtailed presidential powers and had excluded the CDR. It further claimed that the agreement could not be implemented because the “Minister of Foreign Affairs and head of the Rwandan Government was not mandated by the government, but rather by the Prime Minister.”97 Habyarimana vetoed the agreement and echoed the view that the negotiations “did not take into account the proposals of the majority of Rwandans . . . the agreements did not come out of a consensus from the government side . . . Instead of its directives being taken into account by the Rwandan delegation, the delegation gets directives from some institutions which sometimes have no authority to give them.”98 He replaced the government negotiator Ngulinzira with the Defense Minister James Gasana, an MRND member. Soon after Habyarimana’s denunciation of the agreement, Kigali descended into chaos as MRND allies unleashed violence on proponents of the agreements. Although the government imposed a curfew in Kigali in late January 1993, rural violence escalated and degenerated into ethnic warfare as Hutus killed Tutsis and opposition sympathizers.99 As ethnic warfare crippled commercial and government activities, Western countries and aid agencies threatened to suspend economic support pending improvement in security. To placate them, the government appointed a Commission of Inquiry, which promised to investigate the massacres and to prosecute the perpetrators.100 The mediation team unsuccessfully attempted to start the next phase of negotiations on the formation of a national army on January 29, 1993. These talks collapsed when the government delegation’s new leader, James Gasana, demanded revisions in the previous power sharing protocols. Pointing to the spiraling violence in Rwanda, Gasana proposed adjustments to some clauses in the protocols would ostensibly eliminate the sources of insecurity. Bizimungu, for the RPF, countered that revising the protocols would be tantamount to a return to war. Unable to establish an agenda, the mediator postponed the talks in early February 1993.101

The RPF Raises the Stakes: The February 1993 Offensive and Outcome The Arusha talks reached a critical phase in February 1993, with the RPF’s breach of the cease-re agreement. Habyarimana’s abrogation of the power sharing agreement had marked the collapse of the Arusha talks, but this action paled in comparison to the impact of the RPF’s move. Throughout the nego-

TANZANIA MEDIATES RWANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1992–1993

81

tiations, the fragile cease-re had embodied two elements in the structure of the conict. First, there was a mutual recognition that a military solution was untenable. Second, the cease-re had a powerful psychological contribution to bolstering the Arusha process. Despite repeated complaints by both sides of violations, the fact that the parties respected it helped force the pace of the negotiations, creating a tangible symbol for keeping extremism at bay. The ethnic mayhem subsequent to Habyarimana’s rejection of the power sharing protocol was a lesson in the broader failure of the cease-re and the Arusha process to rein in the MRND and CDR extremists. As the RPF indicated prior to the February offensive: The genocide has been perpetrated under the pretext that the power-sharing agreement signed on 9 January 1993 is unfair to the president’s party and its allies in the alliance which claims to be for the reinforcement of democracy . . . How can genocide and the current extermination of people be compatible with the peace process? Unfortunately, those who claim to champion democracy in their country and elsewhere in the world have kept silent or demonstrated double standards by directly putting up with the Kigali dictatorship . . . The RPF cannot be indifferent or remain silent while innocent people continue to be massacred in our country. The killing of innocent people must stop.102

Citing government complicity in genocide and Habyarimana’s “lack of respect for the peace process,” the RPF launched an offensive against government troops, advancing to within fteen miles of Kigali. During the month-long offensive, the RPF doubled the territory under its control before France sent additional troops to reinforce government forces.103 French intervention checked the RPF’s advance, but it could not obliterate the latter’s military gains. Not least to the RPF was the psychological boost of having been closer to Kigali than at any time since the October 1990 invasion.104 RPF ofcials concede that breaking the cease-re was a gamble that enhanced their bargaining position by heightening the conict. According to one ofcial: The February offensive began from a simple and limited premise of going to war to defend people who were getting killed in Habyarimana’s mock runs of genocide. We had no choice but to go to war. But it also ended up demonstrating that we could capture state power and that we were not the weak rebel movement as some people thought. The immediate price of our success on the battleeld were coordinated attempts engineered by the government and their supporters in France to paint us as intransigent, and to resurrect the previous bogeyman of Museveni’s Uganda as the instigator of Rwandese conict. Yet the facts were clear: we had signed a major power sharing agreement in January which Habyarimana’s MRND had refused to accept. The army had subsequently launched a wave of terror on civilians.105

82

CHAPTER THREE

The RPF’s military offensive widened ethnic polarization, fraying the alliance between moderate Hutu opposition parties and the RPF that had sustained the Arusha negotiations. Although most opposition groups had ignored the MRND’s campaign of painting the RPF as Tutsis seeking power, the February attack raised the question of RPF’s motives and began the internal fragmentation of moderate Hutu groups. As Prunier has noted: “On one side, even the most resolute and honest opponents of the regime began to fear that they had been naive and that, through their actions, they were running the risk of exchanging a Hutu military dictatorship for a Tutsi one. And on the other, both the genuine, basically unreconciled Tutsi-haters and the ambitious politicians who thought that there was new political mileage to be made out of the deliberate Tutsi-baiting moved to create a ‘new opposition’ which would be both antiHabyarimana and anti-Tutsi.”106 The military confrontation reenergized Mpungwe’s team. Prime Minister Nsengiyaremye pointed to the power shift in the aftermath of the military skirmishes: “At the current stage, each side has realized that it is impossible to achieve its objectives by military means and that it is better to negotiate. It is high time now to return to Arusha and reach a denitive agreement.”107 The reinvigoration of the mediator was captured in President Mwinyi’s insistence on “rm guarantees that the two sides will respect their commitments and show genuine willingness to conclude a peace agreement.”108 He warned the government that “no meaningful solution could be reached if agreed protocols would have to be renegotiated once they had been signed.”109 The most decisive impact of the RPF’s February offensive was to embolden its bargaining position, a factor that was revealed in protracted negotiations about renewing the cease-re agreement in March 1993.110 Reecting this confidence, the RPF put the question of French military involvement in Rwanda among its preconditions for a cease-re and the resumption of the Arusha talks. The question of French troops dominated discussions between moderate parties and the RPF in Bujumbura, Burundi, in early March 1993. In exchange for returning to the Arusha talks, the RPF demanded the withdrawal of French troops because they had become the “major obstacle to the peace process,” but the internal parties, sensitive to Habyarimana’s fear about the RPF’s motives, came out with a compromise: “If the RPF could agree to and declare an immediate and total cease-re, immediately return to the Arusha negotiations, and accept the arrival of an interposition force, the French would leave within twenty days to two months.”111 The Bujumbura talks broke down when the RPF rejected this proposal and questioned the ability of the parties to wring concessions from Habyarimana.

TANZANIA MEDIATES RWANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1992–1993

83

Faced with the continuing deadlock, Tanzania invited Prime Minister Nsengiyaremye and the RPF’s chairman, Kanyarengwe, to Dar es Salaam in March 1993 for negotiations. The meeting was another instance of the mediation team seeking the intervention of higher authorities to jump-start the talks at a decisive stage in the conict. Chaired by Tanzania’s Prime Minister John Malecela, this meeting infused urgency in the quest for peace. Malecela described Rwanda’s peace process as a bilateral question between the two countries. Noting that Tanzania had committed its time and prestige to the mediation effort, he complained about the escalating costs of housing Rwandese refugees. Malecela also suggested that the February 1993 military skirmishes had eroded the condence and trust between the two parties, and among Tanzanian and Rwandan peoples. To reclaim this trust, he wanted assurances from the parties about their commitment to the agreements and protocols already agreed upon and a timetable for resolving the remaining issues. If there were further military confrontations, he warned, Tanzania would nd it difcult to “remain involved in the Rwanda peace process.”112 In three days of talks, the parties recommitted themselves to a negotiated settlement by accepting the Arusha protocols and promising to abide by future agreements. Similarly, they agreed to procedures to restore the cease-re that was to take effect on March 9, 1993, notably the RPF’s return to its initial military positions while Rwandan armed forces remained in their positions. Equally central to this new cease-re was the provision to allow NMOG to resettle civilians that had been displaced during the February 1993 ghting in a demilitarized buffer zone in the north. The continued French troops, however, became a problem in the negotiations. With the RPF maintaining its position on immediate total withdrawal, the government countered that the question was not negotiable since military cooperation was a matter of Rwanda’s sovereignty. The French military presence, the government delegation argued, “not only contributed to ensuring the security of French cooperation workers and other nationals, but also constituted support for the democratic process under way in Rwanda.”113 By invoking sovereignty, the government forced the mediators to reconcile distinctive positions. Tanzania’s quandary was magnied by Habyarimana’s dependence on the French and the latter’s capabilities to inuence the course of the negotiations in Dar es Salaam and Arusha. Tanzania proposed a compromise in which French troops would withdraw in stages: troops sent to Rwanda during the February 1993 offensive would depart within eight days effective March 17, 1993, while those who arrived in October 1990, would be conned to barracks in Kigali pending their replacement by a neutral

84

CHAPTER THREE

international force. This timetable, signed by the disputants, Mpungwe, and the French was appended as a condential clause in the protocols that became part of the Arusha Agreement.114 RPF negotiators described the talks on the condential clause as a demonstration of the propensity of government mediators in civil wars to side with incumbents at the expense of their challengers. As one RPF participant expressed it: The Dar es Salaam meeting was a difcult one for the RPF. Prime Minister Malecela lacked the tact and skills of a mediator. He openly sided with the government, belittling the RPF delegation. Unlike the mediators in Arusha, he did not treat us with the respect we deserved. The RPF preferred a more rapid process of French departure; we were interested in a transparent, unambiguous negotiating process. Malecela was more concerned with making backdoor deals, under the cloak of French and Rwandese sovereignty. This is how they connived to force a secret clause that provided for a phased withdrawal of French troops. This approach did not endear Malecela to the RPF delegation.115

Tanzanian mediators admitted that the condential clause was an outcome of French pressure that could potentially scuttle the talks if the mediators did not tread carefully. On the eve of the Dar es Salaam conference, for instance, a French envoy in the region had warned that Uganda’s continued involvement with the RPF would exacerbate the “international character of the war.” In addition, French president Francois Mitterand’s sent an appeal to the UN asking for decisive action to prevent its escalation.116 According to a Tanzanian ofcial: The French were convinced that the Arusha talks were gradually weakening the Habyarimana government and strengthening the hands of Museveni and the RPF. They saw the RPF’s February violation of the cease-re as a vindication of this position. As a result, they smelt blood at the Dar es Salaam conference, ready to veto any plan that forced them out of Rwanda without guarantees. Faced with French threats, Malecela took the obvious position given the circumstances. The secret clause allowed both sides to save face: the French could claim victory for not being forced out of Rwanda and obtaining guarantees for an international force, while the RPF could achieve their objectives in the long run. It was not a perfect agreement, but it enabled the parties to restart the Arusha talks.117

The sole objective of the condential clause, another observer commented, was to “avoid annoying France. The public part of the Dar es Salaam agreement mentioned the departure of foreign troops; the condential agreement made it clear that this meant French troops.”118

TANZANIA MEDIATES RWANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1992–1993

85

Negotiating Integration of Armed Forces, March–August 1993 The decision to resume the Arusha talks was immediately felt in Kigali where opponents of the peace process deserted the ruling coalition. The MRND conceded to the resumption, noting that Habyarimana had done so in his capacity as head of state, and not the party. As an indication of the isolation of extremists, the moderate coalition under Foreign Minister Ngulinzira retook the leadership of the negotiations.119 These internal power balances further weakened the coalition government and left unresolved issues pertaining to the standing and mandate of government negotiators. But in the short term, they ensured that the talks would build on the trust and condence established in previous sessions. Contributing to the mood of optimism was the decline of cease-re violations in northern Rwanda. The NMOG, under the command of Nigerian General Ekundayo Opaleye, negotiated the phased repositioning of troops and the establishment of a buffer zone between the forces. By late March 1993, the RPF had withdrawn from occupied areas while the French withdrew the rst batch of its troops.120 In anticipation of French withdrawal, the UN Security Council adopted Resolution 812 on March 12, 1993 authorizing the formation of an intervention force to support the OAU in supervising the cease-re, maintaining the peace, and mobilizing transport and humanitarian assistance to refugees. At French insistence, the bulk of the UN mission would patrol the Ugandan-Rwandan border to prevent the reinforcement of the RPF.121 When the talks resumed on March 15, 1993, the mediators established a new timetable under which the negotiators would devote a week to issues of military integration and the repatriation of refugees. The negotiations would end in early April 1993, with the parties nalizing issues such as the duration of transitional government, timetable for implementation of the peace agreement, harmonization of the protocols, and the establishment of transitional structures. Mpungwe described the negotiators as “more relaxed, cordial, and determined to work within the agreed time frame so that the signing of the peace agreement would be an Easter gift to Rwanda.”122 The one-week deadline allotted to integration of armed forces was insufcient to bridge the parties’ vision of the army’s mission and its size. The primary divergences centered on whether to “integrate” or “merge” the RPF’s estimated 12,000 rebels and the government’s 40,000-man army. Habyarimana previously had proclaimed the government’s position: “It is not a question of a merger between the two armies. It is a question of integrating the rebels into the National Army that has already existed for years. The integration should also be conducted respecting the laws governing our national army and it should

86

CHAPTER THREE

take into account the country’s capacity.”123 The RPF, on the other hand, saw the process as one of merging two separate but equal armies. Furthermore, the RPF’s priority, according to an ofcial, was “how the army should evolve as an institution, rather the government’s xation with parity and equity.”124 Tanzania assigned the mediation to Defense Minister, Abdul-Rahman Kinana, to furnish professional competence to this phase of the negotiations. Technical military teams from the U.S., France, Belgium, and the U.N were on hand to assist Kinana. On March 23, the parties clinched a deal for a future national army that would be nonpartisan and professional force of 22,000 soldiers, including a 13,000-man army, a 3,000-man constabulary force, and a 6,000man paramilitary gendarmerie. They also agreed to disband the presidential battalion and replace it with a republican guard that would provide security for government ofcials.125 This protocol, however, did not resolve the practical issues of the number of troops each side would contribute to the new army. The government’s opening position was an 80–20 per cent division of the13,000 army, while the RPF demanded a 10 per cent difference between them. Although the government counter-offered with a 75–25 division, the negotiations deadlocked in mid-April 1993. As the RPF’s negotiator, Mazimpaka observed: “We are certainly not nding many areas of agreement on the issues, the talks are difcult and we have failed to agree on numbers in the new army . . . we are stuck and we are now waiting for observer countries to intervene to narrow the differences.”126 When the haggling over numbers threatened to stall the talks, the mediators postponed this issue to a future date. The postponement allowed the mediators to use the technical expertise of military observers in nding a compromise. It also enabled the parties to make progress on less controversial issues such as the international force’s composition and the repatriation of refugees. The institutional standing of an international force to supervise the agreement dominated the talks on foreign engagement. While the RPF was more interested in expanding NMOG’s mandate, the government was adamant on a UN force. As Habyarimana indicated in an interview: “The Arusha talks are a question of mutual trust and goodwill. However, I believe that the principal guarantee must be international. We have sought through an appeal to the United Nations to involve the international community in a clearer, more visible manner . . . We want UN troops, but the RPF prefers to trust the OAU. Perhaps we can nd a compromise and add international experts to the OAU troops. To be honest, it seems to me that in the event of a conict, UN troops would be more experienced than those of the OAU.”127 The mediators compromised on a force comprising African and non-African troops established under UN auspices. On April 6, 1993, the negotiators signed the protocol for a neutral

TANZANIA MEDIATES RWANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1992–1993

87

international military force that would demobilize rival armies, supervise the training of a new army, guarantee security, and facilitate the delivery of humanitarian assistance.128 In another intervention to increase pressure on the negotiators, president Mwinyi complained in early May 1993 that the talks were “dragging on for too long,” and causing more suffering to Rwandans. To underscore this impatience, he proposed a new deadline of June 6, 1993, for the conclusion of the negotiations. This pressure yielded a protocol on the demobilization and reintegration of about 19,000 former government soldiers over nine months. Additionally, in mid-May 1993 the negotiations focused on the timetable for setting up transitional structures and Kigali’s demilitarization. These arrangements designated Kigali as the center of the implementation of the peace process and emphasized the need for an “adequate and efcient neutral international force to guarantee its security.”129 Two components formed the basis of these arrangements. First, fteen days after the signing of the peace agreement, the international community would send an assessment team to Kigali to identify military installations, demarcate assembly points for troop disengagement, and establish a buffer zone. Fifteen days after the arrival of the advance team, the parties would establish the transitional government, the TNA, and the army and gendarmerie high commands. Second, the protocol specied the timetable for training and deployment of integrated military units that would provide security under the supervision of the international force, to members of the transitional institutions.130 The parties, who did not trust one another, wanted unambiguous security arrangements before holding elections. As Prime Minister Nsengiyaremye expressed it: “Carrying out military integration and the demobilization of excess military personnel will both be delicate jobs. We do not want to commit ourselves to elections before both operations have been completed, otherwise we will be in danger of ending up in a situation like Angola where the undisciplined military personnel are disrupting the brittle stability.”131 To further hasten the talks, NMOG commander Opaleye held parallel negotiations with military representatives from the government and the RPF in northern Rwanda on the return and resettlement of war-displaced people in the demilitarized zone. In late May 1993, the negotiators signed a protocol on administrative structures, electoral mechanisms, and procedures of resettlement in the demilitarized zone.132 In early June 1993, the mediators convened a refugee repatriation conference of the parties and international observers. The rst forum afforded diverse actors and agencies the opportunity to present ideas about how to resolve the refugee problem. The conference devised a protocol on the repatriation of refugees, and the establishment of

88

CHAPTER THREE

an international commission to oversee the process. The protocol recognized the right of refugees to return home and settle in the region of their choice. It also covered the rights of all citizens to own property and recommended that refugees who had lived out of the country for more than 12 years would be compensated for loss of property.133 The protocol on refugees completed the third part of the agenda. What remained was the question of the army’s numerical distribution. Despite negotiations in committees, the parties were far apart by late May 1993, forcing the mediators to suggest a compromise of 35 or 40 per cent for the RPF and 65 or 60 per cent for the government and a 50–50 share of command posts. Signaling Tanzania’s impatience, Mpungwe warned that the peace process could not be held hostage to “a numbers game” since the parties had agreed on the most important questions: “How can we allow peace to escape us at this critical juncture? Where is the political responsibility that most of you have displayed thus far?”134 The impasse persisted until mid-June 1993, when the mediators enlisted Mwinyi’s intervention. He launched high-level consultations to obtain the parties’ agreement. When it appeared that both parties were leaning toward accepting a 60–40 per cent share in favor of the government, Tanzania’s Prime Minister Malecela led a delegation to Kigali on June 7 1993 to pressure Habyarimana into a settlement. But while the RPF accepted these terms on June 12, 1993, the government deferred a decision pending cabinet consultations on preliminary drafts of the nal agreement. The mediators failed to get Habyarimana and the RPF chairman, Kanyarengwe, to travel to Arusha. Habyarimana rejected going to Arusha before the negotiators had settled all the issues and government representatives had presented the agreements for cabinet approval. It was against this background that on June 24, 1993, as the parties prepared to sign the nal agreement, Habyarimana called for an indenite postponement, objecting to the 50–50 division of command posts. As a result, the RPF demanded revision from the original provision for a 60–40 government-RPF share in the army’s makeup to a 60–40 share in its favor.135 The Arusha deadlock coincided with a swing in relations in the coalition government as the MDR and its moderate political allies lost ground to the MRND and CDR extremists. Although restrained by the specter of the resumption of civil war and international isolation, Habyarimana’s cabinet allies ousted Prime Minister Nsengiyaremye in late June 1993. On his departure, Nsengiyaremye blamed the postponement on Habyarimana’s “personal and egoistic reasons.” He also accused him of creating a “war-mongering government . . . You have nurtured this rejection of peace throughout the whole talks . . . Your support-

TANZANIA MEDIATES RWANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1992–1993

89

ers began it in January 1993, in particular by the trouble they provoked in the northern prefectures.”136 Foreign Minister Ngulinzira also explained that the deadlock did “not really lie in the content of the negotiations, but in the political mood surrounding the signing of the peace accord and the divisions within the Rwandan political community. Unfortunately, I have to admit that at all levels of state responsibility we still have people who are not fully committed to peace.”137 Mwinyi averted the collapse of the peace process by putting regional and international pressure on the government. He also chaired talks with the government and RPF representatives on June 25–26, 1993. Mwinyi warned of the “ominous consequences for Rwanda and the region” for the delay in reaching a peace agreement. He also reiterated the “need and maximum urgency for a peace agreement to be concluded as soon as possible.”138 Tanzanian ofcials believed that the peace talks could be saved by maintaining discussions with the parties while avoiding the appearance of crisis: “At the OAU summit in Cairo in June 1993, Mwinyi reported on the irreversible progress at Arusha and appealed for coordinated African help to overcome the last hurdles. Similarly, Tanzanian envoys negotiating with Habyarimana’s fractious cabinet in Kigali presented a face of optimism and reassurance. Dramatizing failure in difcult moments would only have contributed to the talk’s complexity.”139 Western diplomats in Kigali also helped to force the government to back down from its position. In mid-July 1993, talks between Tanzania’s Foreign Minister Joseph Rwegasira and Habyarimana’s new cabinet established a negotiating framework for the remaining issues. Rwegasira obtained agreement on the agenda that would focus on command sharing within the army and gendarmerie, security guarantees for the RPF, and the candidacy of a Prime Minister to lead the transitional government. For the nal phase of the negotiations, participants shifted the venue from Arusha to Kinihira, northern Rwanda, where in late July 1993, they signed two protocols ending the negotiations. The protocol on army integration retained the mediators’ proposals for 60–40 percent government-RPF numerical division and provided a division of army and gendarmerie command posts. A major change that met the government’s demands was for sharing all of positions and command responsibilities in the armed forces on an alternating basis. In essence, while both sides would provide an equal number of brigade and battalion commanders, “neither force would be entitled to occupy simultaneously the posts of commander and deputy commander of any given formation.” The protocol also specied that the UN force would be responsible for security during the transitional period. But in

90

CHAPTER THREE

case there was a delay in its arrival, an expanded MOG would perform this function. To allay the RPF’s security concerns, the protocol allowed it to deploy a 600-man infantry battalion to Kigali.140 In the second protocol, the parties agreed on the functions of the transitional institutions, notably the government and the TNA. According to this timetable, Faustin Twagiramungu, the MDR leader, would head a transitional government established 37 days after the signing of the agreement. At the same time, TNA members would assume their legislative roles. The transitional administration would supervise local, parliamentary, and presidential elections in 1995. The nal protocols sought to ease the pains of transition to new institutions, permitting a measure of continuity in the process of constructing new ones. Thus, the nal protocol provided that prior to the TNA’s establishment, Habyarimana’s legislature would remain in place but would not introduce any new legislation. Similarly, the agreement allowed Habyarimana’s government to remain in power on condition that it should not “usurp the mandate of the broad-based transitional government being established . . . the current government of Habyarimana shall, in no circumstances, take decisions which may be detrimental to the implementation of the program.”141

The Arusha Peace Accord and Aftermath The Arusha Peace Accord, signed on August 4, 1993, incorporated six protocols the parties had signed during the twelve months of talks. Article 3 stated that the 1991 constitution and the Accord “inseparably” formed the Fundamental Law of the transitional period. In effect, however, the Accord was supreme since it replaced half of the constitutional provisions and, more importantly, the parties agreed that “in case of conict between other provisions of the constitution and those of the peace accord, the latter shall prevail.” With the presidency reduced to a ceremonial institution, real power lay with the transition government, comprising six political parties, and governing in consultation with the TNA.142 The Accord’s dual character as a cease-re arrangement and a constitutional document captured the responsibilities that mediators in communal conicts carry in steering feuding parties toward conict deescalation and constitutionbuilding. Throughout the negotiations, the dual components of cease-re and constitutional arrangements had evolved in tandem, as lessening military tensions gave the mediators more latitude to prod the parties toward a political framework for resolving grievances.

TANZANIA MEDIATES RWANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1992–1993

91

At the signing ceremony, President Mwinyi saw the Arusha process as part of the OAU’s efforts to establish mechanisms of conict management and resolution. The agreement, he said, was a “vindication of Africa’s ability and capacity to resolve conicts among us in a brotherly manner.” The OAU Secretary-General Salim also described it as a lesson in Africa’s conict resolution: “Despite resource limitations and the absence of an effective institutional framework, the OAU took up the challenge and strove to maintain the condence reposed in it by the parties to peace talks.”143 Both sides described the agreement as a formula that would “eradicate the deep-seated causes which gave rise to the war.” Habyarimana highlighted the compromises each side had made: “Everyone has something to lose in [the agreement]. However, beyond individual and partisan interests, each Rwandan must believe that they have won something in the agreement.”144 To the RPF’s chairman Kanyarengwe, the agreement reected the parties’ commitment to “end the war once and for all, as opposed to the cease-re, which was a provisional end to hostilities . . . Peace only becomes a reality if the causes of the war disappear or are disappearing.”145 Since the Arusha Peace Accord was negotiated against the background of an uneasy truce monitored by the OAU’s NMOG, its implementation hinged on continued participation of international actors. The NMOG had separated the combatants for almost two years and, more importantly, established an infrastructure for international peacekeeping. The protracted debate during the negotiations on whether the UN or OAU would be responsible for the military aspects of the transitional phase underscored the role both parties had assigned to international actors. The Arusha Agreement envisaged an even more enhanced role as Kanyarengwe noted during the signing ceremony: Each step in the implementation of the peace agreement is dependent upon the presence of international neutral force. In particular, the disengagement of forces will only come about after the determination and organization of zones and gathering by the international neutral force. It is only after the disengagement of the two forces that the displaced peoples can be resettled in their homes. The urgent need to deploy the international neutral force by the United Nations or the broadened Military Observer Group is important to us.146

Operationally, the intervention was to combine the roles of a peacekeeper and peace enforcer, tasks that entailed timing, sequencing, and coordination among multiple actors.147 The immediate focus of international attention in mid-August 1993 was on meeting French demands for the deployment of a United Nations Observer Mission for Uganda and Rwanda (UNOMUR). Its objective was to monitor

92

CHAPTER THREE

the Uganda-Rwanda border from the Ugandan side and to reduce the ow of weapons and other military and non-military supplies. The RPF described UNOMUR as an “insult” and unsuccessfully called for an international mission to investigate French support for Habyarimana’s army.148 Despite these misgivings, UNOMUR met the Rwandese government’s demands for security on its northern borders and disabused Habyarimana of the Uganda threat. At the start of UNOMUR’s work, its Canadian commander, Maj-General Romeo Dallaire, declared that the border hostilities had diminished.149 The UN Secretary-General Boutros-Ghali sent a reconnaissance mission for a two-week preliminary assessment of the requirement of the anticipated international force in mid-August 1993. But concern soon surfaced about the ability of meeting the deadlines for the establishment of the transitional government. According to Secretary-General Boutros-Ghali, the parties had received prior warning about possible delays in UN deployment: “At the time of the Arusha discussions, the United Nations made clear to the parties that the decision to deploy a United Nations force rested with the Security Council and that, if approved, the deployment could take up to three months. Given their serious concerns that any inordinate delay in establishing the transitional government might endanger the peace process, the parties had none the less decided to adopt the accelerated timetable.”150 Despite external appeals to the parties to honor the Arusha Peace accord and to cooperate with NMOG, the internal situation deteriorated. In late August 1993, the Prime Minister, Agathe Uwilingiyamana warned that such instability did not “augur well for the implementation of the agreement because security is a prerequisite for the implementation of the Arusha Peace Accord.”151 In light of the worsening condition, the two former adversaries sent a delegation to the UN in mid-September 1993 to stress the need for the deployment of UN forces. As a result, Boutros-Ghali recommended to the Security Council the deployment of a United Nations Assistance Mission to Rwanda, (UNAMIR) to implement the accord. On October 5, 1993, the Security Council passed resolution 872 establishing UNAMIR for six months and provided that its mandate would expire after the October 1995 elections. Although the Security Council authorized the deployment of a force that included two infantry battalions of 800 personnel each and a total of 2,500 troops, UNAMIR did not start work until November 1993. UNAMIR delayed deployment had consequences on the peace process, particularly in the setting up of the transitional institutions. In UNAMIR’s absence, the RPF refused to send 600 troops to Kigali to provide security for its ofcials, citing the continued presence of French troops. The French, for their part, proclaimed their desire to depart only after UNAMIR’s arrival.152

TANZANIA MEDIATES RWANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1992–1993

93

The failure to establish transitional institutions furnished Habyarimana’s government with the breathing space to reorganize the government ministries that had been allocated to the RPF. For instance, the government reorganized the powerful Ministry of Internal Affairs by redistributing its responsibilities to government agencies sympathetic to Habyarimana, a move that the head of Rwanda’s constitutional court declared unconstitutional. Similarly, although both parties tried to make some efforts in reintegration of the armies and repatriation of refugees, progress hinged on UNAMIR’s arrival. At the regional level, Habyarimana and Museveni patched up their differences by establishing bilateral cooperation commissions and restoring transport links.153 But the October 1993 attempted military coup in Burundi that led to the death of Hutu President, Melchior Ndadaye, reignited civil conict and the exodus of 350,000 refugees from Burundi to Rwanda. This development not only dampened the spirit of regional of reconciliation but also complicated the Arusha provisions for military demobilization. By December 1993, the impetus generated by the Arusha Peace Accord had been squandered in the bureaucratic battles in the UN and the growing mistrust in Rwanda. Despite UN entreaties, the government and RPF still had not set up a transitional government. The Secretary General’s report to the Security Council described the situation as extremely fragile and requested authority to deploy a second infantry battalion. Although the UN Security Council approved the second deployment in January 1994, there was a further delay until March 22, 1994 when, UNAMIR deployed its 2, 539 force.154 In early 1994, Rwanda gradually descended into chaos. Except for Habyarimana who was sworn in as President in January 1994, there was no progress on other transitional institutions. By late March 1994, repeated attempts to install these institutions failed as the security situation deteriorated. In the absence of these institutions, the balance of power tilted toward extremists in the MRND and its CDR allies, parties that had consistently questioned the wisdom of the Arusha process. Throughout the spring of 1994, intelligence reports indicated that the Interahamwe were planning mass killings of opposition leaders and Tutsi citizens. Having encouraged and courted extremists in his government, Habyarimana was unable to control these forces. His death in a plane crash after last-minute regional efforts in Arusha to save the peace accords symbolized the failures in implementation.155

94

CHAPTER THREE

Conclusion: Assessing Tanzania’s Mediation Role The Rwanda genocide arose from a combination of the refusal of Hutu extremists to accept the Arusha Peace Accords and lukewarm international commitment toward implementation. This failure raises difculties in the assessment of the mediator’s role in the conict. Ideally, mediators in communal conicts not only should just engineer agreements, but also ensure that parties keep their promises. Mediators should be interested in both process and outcome, but African mediators operating on meager resources could hardly be likened to the Hobbesian sovereign superintending over social contractors with the sword and suasion of power. Kuperman’s analysis of the Arusha process blames the mediators for failing to deescalate the conict. While admitting that the civil war had reached stalemate and the mediators had used leverage to coordinate their activities, he nevertheless contends that “they failed to appreciate how much Rwanda’s entrenched elite had to lose under political pluralization, and the lengths to which it would go to preserve the status quo. The mediators’ application of leverage succeeded in compelling Rwanda’s President to sign and begin to implement the Arusha accords, but this very success raised the insecurity of Rwanda’s elite to the breaking point.” The “error in judgment,” Kuperman continues, stemmed from the mediator’s failure to obtain intelligence that would have revealed “the strength and nature of the extremists.” Kuperman concludes by saying: “mediators must exercise extreme caution in the use of such leverage, especially in situations where the proposed settlement threatens a powerful interest group and where the international community is unwilling to enforce implementation.”156 Mediators as enforcers of agreements in the African context are the exception rather than the rule. This raises concerns about the ability of African states to create long-term military and political institutions for implementation of agreements to reduce dependence on external actors. But these questions are separate from the quality of mediation processes. The collapse of the Arusha Peace Accord speaks not to whether outsiders had a responsibility in its implementation (the negotiations were conducted on expectations of continued international participation in the peace process), but whether external actors with the power to make an impact had the political will to intervene at a decisive phase. Questions of failure in collective implementation need to be, nonetheless, separated from the mediation process. Jones, for instance, has argued that the Arusha process had two distinct elements: inclusiveness, providing representation to all the parties; and facilitative, whereby the Tanzanian mediators gave

TANZANIA MEDIATES RWANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1992–1993

95

the parties “sufcient contact and communication to overcome the kinds of totalistic perception of others that tend to derail talks.” Out of this process, there emerged a “richly detailed blueprint for the resolution of the underlying causes of the Rwandan conict, not merely for a short- or medium-term ceasere.”157 Kuperman overstates and exaggerates, for instance when he writes: “mediators should not have used leverage to impose the accords on extremists, knowing the international community was unwilling to enforce peace in case the strategy backred.”158 African mediators are motivated to deescalate conicts that affect regional stability, lending a hand to parties that often require assistance out of difcult situations. They are invited to invent solutions that are within limits established primarily by disputants. Invitation endows mediators with prescriptive power and a sense of preferred outcomes, but effective decisionmaking power resides in the parties. As they strive to make their intervention roles credible, African mediators are learning to deploy available resources and exploit the parties’ mutual exhaustion in the search for peaceful settlements. The Tanzanian mediators assisted Rwandese parties to nd alternatives to unilateral solutions and violence. For this reason, they succeeded in taking advantage of the stalemate to push the parties toward negotiations. The government’s strength declined by the time it had agreed a negotiated settlement. Its condence and resolve considerably weakened throughout the process even though Habyarimana still drew on military and economic support provided largely by the French. Internal reforms compounded the government’s vulnerability and increased the number of political players with a stake in a peaceful solution. By the same token, the RPF’s power rose appreciably due to its military successes, tenacity in mobilization, and ability to cultivate local allies following internal reforms. Yet the RPF was vulnerable diplomatically, having only one reliable regional allay, Uganda. Additionally, the RPF struggled to shade the image of a “mere guerrilla movement.” These changes permitted the entry of mediators, enabling them to sustain the negotiations. The respect the parties accorded Tanzania furnished the mediators the power and prestige to press for compromises. Unlike Zaire, the previous mediator, Tanzania enjoyed good relations with both parties who perceived the mediators as legitimate and having a “moral ber.” Part of this credibility grew out of a perception of Tanzania’s relative success of nation building and integration in Eastern Africa, the underlying gist of the Arusha negotiations.159 Tanzania’s role exemplied mediation that was knowledgeable about the conict. In the context where African mediation cries for capacity, this case demonstrated the balance between a neighbor’s interest and concern about the issues, and

96

CHAPTER THREE

political and institutional credibility that make for effective intervention in mediated settlements. Institutional credibility, in turn, compensates for the mediator’s lack of material and tangible resources. Tanzania was proximate enough to help Rwandese parties search for outcomes without exaggerating its capabilities. Such qualities are in contrast to Moi’s less than stellar role Ugandan negotiations, and Mobutu’s futile diplomatic initiatives on Rwanda. The institutional base of the primary mediators, the ministry of foreign affairs, provided enough room for them to manage mediation tasks without the encumbrance or distractions from competing state functions. Furthermore, the lower ranks of the negotiators and the mediators gave a bulk of the negotiations low visibility, enabling the parties to proceed with deliberations in relative isolation, free from the pressures and expectations that are associated with high prole presidential summits. “Highly visible negotiations involving heads of state,” one participant remarked, “would have affected the negotiations negatively, turning the exercise into a circus. This was a tedious and cumbersome process requiring patience and study, not the momentary, and always, false heightening of expectations that comes with summits of leaders.”160 The mediators built on an established, ongoing negotiating process that had evolved in ts and starts, learned from its mistakes and drew from its strength. By the time the parties got to Arusha, the multiple pressures had induced expectations, albeit tentative, about the necessity of a settlement; disagreements had focused primarily on how far the government would go in meeting the RPF’s demands about power sharing, rather than about negotiations per se. For instance, despite the shortcomings of the N’sele agreement of May 1991, it eventually became the building block for subsequent cease-re agreements and the role of international peacekeepers. This existing negotiating structure thus eased the mediators’ entry into the negotiations. Arusha’s multilateral context afforded the Tanzanian mediation team with diverse sources of leverage. It made the mediation, in the words of one participant, “a trap that we could not get out of. We were locked into a framework where the international community had their prying eyes on what were doing.”161 Arusha’s multilateralism comes close to a model of coordination and supplementation of local and international actors in mediation where the participation of major Western countries and the UN provided a wider international context of power and legitimacy. Yet the prying eyes of international observers during the Arusha negotiations did not crowd-out the local mediation, lending it wider latitude to engage the feuding parties.

TANZANIA MEDIATES RWANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1992–1993

97

Notes 1. “OAU Claims Praise for Rwanda Peace Deal,” Daily News (Dar es Salaam), August 5, 1993. 2. Lloyd Jensen, “Issue Flexibility in Negotiating Internal War,” The Annals, vol. 542 November 1995, p. 116 observes that while “regionalized negotiations” have the potential of bringing multiple pressures on parties at the table, they often compound the negotiating process by adding complexity. 3. For background accounts to the historical dimensions of the refugee problem see Catherine Watson, Exile from Rwanda: Background to an Invasion (New York: U.S. Committee for Refugees, 1991); Gerard Prunier, The Rwanda Crisis: History of a Genocide, 1959–1994 (Kampala: Fountain Publishers, 1996); David Newbury, “Returning Refugees: Four Historical Patterns of ‘Coming Home’ to Rwanda,” Comparative Studies in Society and History, vol. 47, no. 2, 2005, pp. 252–85; Dixon Kamukama, Rwanda Conict: Its Roots and Regional Implications (Kampala: Fountain Publishers, 1993). On Uganda’s role in the conict see Khadiagala, “Uganda’s Domestic and Regional Security Since the 1970s,” Journal of Modern African Studies, vol. 31, no. 2, 1993, pp. 231–56; and “Rwandan Refugees Led by Ugandan Army Ofcer Invade Rwanda,” Reuters, October 2, 1990. 4. For ofcial NRM responses to the invasion see “Kategaya Issues Statement,” Foreign Broadcast Information Services (FBIS)-Afr-90–193, October 4, 1990, p. 12; and “President Museveni Urges Political Solution in Rwanda,” New Vision (Kampala), October 17, 1990. 5. “Statement of the Minister for Foreign Affairs and International Cooperation during a meeting with heads of Diplomatic and Consular Missions accredited to Kigali,” Kigali, October 8, 1990. See also “Press Release: Rwanda Conict or an Attempt to Restore a Feudal Regime,” Kigali, January 24, 1991; “Statement from the Rwandese Embassy Concerning the Invasion,” Dar es Salaam, October 30, 1990; and “Open letter to His Excellency Mr. Y.K. Museveni, President of the Republic of Uganda and OAU chairman from Rwandese Intellectuals,” Rwandese Embassy, Dar es Salaam, March 1991. 6. The role of France and Belgium is amply discussed in Prunier, The Rwanda Crisis, pp. 93–100; “Belgian Premier Arrives: Front Spokesman Conrms,” FBIS-Afr-90–194, October 5, 1990, pp. 4–5; “Mobutu, Habyarimana Discuss Rwandan Crisis,” FBIS-Afr-90–196, October 10, 1990, p. 6. 7. “Message of the Rwandese Head of State to the Nation on 5th October 1990 following the Attack Perpetrated against Rwanda,” Rwandese Embassy, Dar es Salaam, October 5, 1990; and “President Addresses Nation on Attack on Country,” FBIS-Afr-90–195, October 9, 1990, pp. 3–4. 8. Jonathan Clayton, “Rwanda to Appeal to U.N. Security Council on Rebel Invasion,” Reuters, October 15, 1990. According to RPF informants, the gist of Habyarimana’s talks with neighbors was to “use the Uganda bogeyman to bargain away the RPF claims.” Interview with RPF informant, Kigali, July 1996. 9. David Buchan, “Rwanda Peace Bid Gets Under Way,” Financial Times, October 16, 1990, p. 6. 10. “Cease-re Agreement Reached: E.C. Help Sought,” FBIS-Afr-90–202, October 18, 1990, p. 2; “Museveni says Habyarimana to Meet Opposition,” New Vision (Kampala), October 18, 1990 “Secretary-general on OAU, Museveni’s role,” FBIS-Afr-90–199, October 15, 1990, p. 9; “OAU to Send Delegation to Uganda, Rwanda,” FBIS-Afr-90–201, October 18, 1990, p. 5.

98

CHAPTER THREE

11. “President’s Position on Negotiations Noted,” FBIS-Afr-90–205, October 23, 1990, p. 1; and “Habyarimana Claries Position on Negotiations,” FBIS-Afr-90–207, October 25, 1990, p. 9. 12. “Rebels say Fighting Continues: Leader Comments,” FBIS-Afr-90–206, October 24, 1990, p. 3; and “Rebels State Conditions for Cease-Fire Talks,” FBIS-Afr-90–206, October 24, 1990, p. 3. 13. “Museveni Attends a Rwanda Summit in Zaire,” New Vision, October 27, 1990. A Ugandan informant noted that “Museveni would not have been that foolish to accede to the government’s demand that the RPF should return to Uganda before the start of negotiations.” Interview with informant, Kampala, May 1996. 14. “Army Repels Attacks: Minister,” FBIS-Afr-91–043, March 5, 1991, p. 7. 15. See, for instance, Kigali radio statement attributing “the Kampala victory of President Museveni to mercenaries of Rwandese origin,” in “Radio Views Ugandan NRA Role in Attack,” FBIS-Afr-90–206, October 24, 1990, pp. 2–3. 16. Interview with Tanzanian informant, Dar es Salaam, April 1996. 17. “Joint Communiqué Issued,” FBIS-Afr-90–209, October 29, 1990, p. 1; “Quadripartite Summit on Rwanda Opens in Zaire,” FBIS-Afr-90–209, October 29, 1990, p. 1. See also “Government Asks for Cease-re ‘Intervention,’” FBIS-Afr-90–208, October 26, 1990, p. 3; and “Ofcers Prepare for Cease-re Monitoring,” FBIS-Afr-90–209, October 29, 1990, p. 2; “Communiqué on CEPGL Summit on Rwanda,” FBIS-Afr-90–207, October 25, 1990. 18. “Foreign Minister Comments on Goma talks,” FBIS-Afr-90–231, November 30, 1990, pp. 4. For other accounts of these meetings see “Observer Ofcers Meet in Goma on Ceasere,” FBIS-Afr-90–223, November 19, 1990, p. 4. 19. Interview with military observer informant, Addis Ababa, June 1996. 20. “President on Current Situation, Policy,” FBIS-Afr-90–211, October 31, 1990, p. 1. 21. The Canadian ambassador underscored the importance of Habyarimana’s friends, admitting that: “We made the point that we were friends of Rwanda and we told the president that if he found that all was not going on well with the implementation of the Mwanza and Gbadolite agreements, he should tell us without delay so that we might once again apply small pressures on some of the presidents of neighboring countries to make sure that the agreements are implemented, the cease-re is observed, the interposition force is set up, and also that the regional conference on refugees is convened.” See “Canadian Envoy on Desire to Help in Crisis,” FBIS-Afr-90–219, November 13, 1990; on other European friends, see “France’s Pelletier Meets President Mwinyi,” Daily News, November 7, 1990. 22. “Rwandan Rebel Radio criticizes Government’s ’Side-stepping’ and ‘Double Talk’” The British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC), Summary of World Broadcasts, no. ME/1430/B/1, July 11, 1992. For a summary of Mobutu’s mediation see “Zairian Envoy meets with RPF on Cease-re,” FBIS-Afr-90–214, October 5, 1990; “President Mobutu receives Patriotic Front,” FBIS-Afr-90–221, November 15, 1990, p. 5. 23. “Burundi and Rwanda hold Summit: Support for Regional Peace Initiatives,” BBC Summary of World Broadcasts, no. ME/0972/B/1, January 17, 1991. 24. For summaries of RPF mobilization see “Rwanda Patriotic Front offensive in North,” FBIS-Afr-90–242, December 17, 1990; “RPF Rebels seize Ruhengeri in new Fighting,” FBIS-Afr-91–016, January 24, 1990, p. 1; “Rebels preparing ’New Large-Scale Attack’,” FBIS-Afr-91–011, January 16, 1990, p. 3; and David Kamukama, Rwandan Conict, pp. 43–56.

TANZANIA MEDIATES RWANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1992–1993

99

25. “Statement by president Habyarimana on Rwandan refugees on 15 February,” Rwanda Embassy, Dar es Salaam, January 17, 1991; and “Habyarimana addresses Legislators on reform,” FBIS-Afr-90–221, November 15, 1990, pp. 3–4. 26. “Rwanda’s Habyarimana Discusses Refugees with Mwinyi,” Daily News, January 17, 1991. 27. “Pelletier on Refugees,” FBIS-Afr-90–219, November 13, 1990, p. 4. See also “Belgian Minister arrives: Meets Press,” FBIS-Afr-90–219, November 13, 1990, p. 5; and “U.S., Canadian, EEC Diplomats meet President,” FBIS-Afr-91–034, February 20, 1991, p. 8. 28. “The Dar es Salaam Declaration on the Rwandese Refugee Problem,” Dar es Salaam, February 19, 1991; “Zanzibar Communiqué,” Dar es Salaam, February 17, 1991; “East Africa: Consultations pave the way for the Summit on Refugees,” Inter Press Service, February 18, 1991; “Ugandan, Rwandan Presidents issue Communiqué,” Daily News, February 17, 1991. 29. “‘Rebel Colonel Details Cease-re Provisions,” FBIS-Afr-91–203, February 19, 1991, p. 3. 30. “Details on N’sele Accord,” FBIS-Afr-91–062, April 1, 1991, p. 2; “Government, Patriotic Front Sign Cease-re,” FBIS-Afr-91–062, April 1, 1991, pp. 1–2. For discussions of the negotiations for this agreement see Elizabeth Mnanga, “Prospects for Conict Resolution in Rwanda,” Post-graduate thesis, Center for Foreign Relations, Dar es Salaam, 1992, p. 43; “Patriotic Front Rebels propose Cease-re,” FBIS-Afr-91–048, March 1, 1991, p. 7; “RPF Leader on Proposal, Demands,” FBIS-Afr-91–053, March 19, 1991, p. 5; “11 March meeting with Rebels Planned,” FBIS-Afr-91–047, March 11, 1991, p. 2. 31. Interview with RPF informant, Kigali, July 1996. 32. “Habyarimana Comments on Political Dialogue,” FBIS-Afr-91–066, April 5, 1991, p. 3; “Rebels threaten to resume Fighting,” FBIS-Afr-91–062, April 1, 1991, p. 3 “Clemency to be given to those who Lay Down Arms,” FBIS-Afr-91–053, March 19, 1991, p. 5; “Rebels claim cease-re violations in Mutara,” FBIS-Afr-91–064, April 3, 1991, p. 2; “Government Communiqué on Cease-re Violations,” FBIS-Afr-91–067, April 8, 1991, p. 2; “Habyarimana views Rebel Attacks,” FBIS-Afr-91–153, August 8, 1991, p. 4. 33. “Foreign Minister says Situation ‘Generally Calm’,” FBIS-Afr-91–063, April 2, 1991, p. 6. 34. Alexis de Tocqueville, The Old Regime and the French Revolution (New York: Doubleday, 1995). 35. “Habyarimana Addresses Legislators on Reform,” FBIS-Afr-90–221, November 15, 1990, p. 4. 36. Pilot Study on the National Political Charter, Kigali, December 1990; and “Press release: The Rwandese Head of State decides to accelerate the Process of Political Reforms,” Rwandese Embassy, Dar es Salaam, April 30, 1991. 37. “Habyarimana on Multiparty System, Elections,” FBIS-Afr-91–128, July 3, 1991, pp. 2–5; “President Rules out Holding National Conference,” FBIS-Afr-91–245, December 20, 1991, p. 1. 38. “French Minister on Mediation Mission, Uganda’s Role,” FBIS-Afr-93–042, March 5, 1993, p. 1. 39. “Opposition Parties Reject Amnesty Law,” FBIS-Afr-91–194, October 7, 1991, p. 1. 40. “Bizimungu Discusses Peace Process with Opposition,” FBIS-Afr-92–022, February 3, 1992, pp. 5–6; “Negotiations under way for Union Government,” FBIS-Afr-92–038, February 26, 1992, p. 3; “Regime, Opposition agree on future Government,” FBIS-Afr-92–036, February 24, 1992, p. 2; “Opposition Parties, Ruling Party sign Agreement,” FBIS-Afr-92–051, March 16, 1992, p. 2.

100

CHAPTER THREE

41. “RPF Chairman Commemorates October 1 Rebellion,” FBIS-Afr-92–194, October 6, 1992, p. 5. 42. Interviews with RPF informants, Kigali, July 1996. One ofcial noted that as part of its diplomacy, the RPF had since 1991 repeatedly urged the French and Belgians to pressure Habyarimana to institute internal reforms; subsequently, “it was the coalition cabinet that forced Habyarimana to negotiate . . . the internal political parties became the RPF’s pressure points.” 43. Herman J. Cohen, Intervention in Africa: Superpower Peacemaking in a Troubled Continent (New York: Macmillan, 2000), pp. 167–72. See also Bruce D. Jones, Peacemaking in Rwanda: The Dynamics of Failure (Boulder: Lynne Rienner, 2001), pp. 57–8. 44. “Foreign Minister comments on Return from Paris,” FBIS-Afr-92–112, June 10, 1992, p. 6; “Ngulinzira views Uganda Trip,” FBIS-Afr-92–101, May 26, 1992, pp. 1–2. 45. “Delegations end Paris Talks, Issue Communiqué,” FBIS-Afr-92–111, June 9, 192, p. 1. Foreign Minister wants ‘Direct Talks’ with Rebels,” FBIS-Afr-92–101, May 26, 1992, p. 1. 46. Interview, Kigali, July 1996. 47. Interviews, Kampala, Addis Ababa, Kigali, April–July 1996; and “Ngulinzira views Uganda Trip,” FBIS-Afr-92–101, May 26, 1992, p. 1. 48. “Delegations end Paris Talks: U.S., France, Belgium asked to Participate,” FBIS-Afr-92–111, June 9, 1992, p. 1; “Foreign Minister comments on Return from Paris,” FBIS-Afr-92–112, June 10, 1992, pp. 6–7. 49. Interview with RPF informant, Kigali, July 1996. Bruce D. Jones, Peacemaking in Rwanda, p. 56 also observes that: “According to diplomatic sources, all the parties to the mediation recognized at this stage the inappropriateness (and incompetence) of Mobutu in this role. Mobutu retained the role of a ‘mediator’ but was, from this point on, to have no role in the peace process.” 50. Bruce D. Jones, Peacemaking in Rwanda, pp. 74–78. 51. Interview, Dar es Salaam, April 1996. 52. Harvey Waterman, “Political Order and the ‘Settlement’ of Civil Wars,” in Roy Licklider, ed., How Civil Wars End, pp. 295–6 has, for instance pointed out that successful negotiations to civil wars hinge on a stable structure of authority and coalitions among the disputants. A certain amount of leadership autonomy fosters control over diverse constituencies: “accommodation takes place when each collectivity has a strong organizational expression that, in turn, allows leaders the autonomy to act on its behalf. If leaders lack that autonomy, they are subject to competitive bidding from individuals with ambitions to replace them and become unable to consent to the necessary compromises.” 53. Stephen J. Stedman, “International Negotiation and Mediation in Internal Conict,” in Michael Brown, ed., International Dimensions of Internal Conict (Cambridge: MIT Press, 1996), p. 346. 54. Paul Wehr and John Paul Lederach, “Mediating Conicts in Central America,” Journal of Peace Research, vol. 28, no. 2, 1991, pp. 86–87. 55. Hizkias Assefa, “The Challenge of Mediation of Internal Wars,” pp. 101–106; Christopher R. Mitchell, “The Motives for Mediation,” in Mitchell and Keith Webb, eds., New Approaches to International Mediation (New York: Greenwood, 1988), p. 4; and Christopher J. McMullen, Mediation of the West New Guinea Dispute, 1962: A Case Study (Washington, D.C.: George Washington University, Institute for the Study of Diplomacy, 1981). 56. Most participants note that Ambassador Mpungwe’s role was even more critical because Tanzania’s Foreign Minister, Ahmed Hassan Diria, chaired the preliminary sessions of the

TANZANIA MEDIATES RWANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1992–1993

57. 58.

59.

60. 61. 62.

63. 64. 65. 66.

67.

68. 69. 70. 71. 72. 73. 74.

101

talks. Some of these participants nonetheless describe Diria’s role derisively: “incapable of understanding the ABC of negotiations,” “lacked education,” “was unable to focus on anything,” and “issues were too deep for him.” Interviews, Kigali, Dar es Salaam, Addis Ababa, April–July 1996. Interviews with Arusha participants, Dar es Salaam, May 1996; Kigali, July 1996; Washington D.C., September 1996. Bruce D. Jones, Peacemaking in Rwanda, p. 71. Explaining America’s secondary role in the Arusha talks, former U.S Assistant Secretary of State for African Affairs, Cohen, contends: “Arusha was so well organized and making so much progress that we virtually took its success for granted.” See Cohen, Intervening in Africa, p. 176 Dayle E. Spencer and Hinggang Yang: “Lessons from the eld of Intranational Conict Resolution,” Notre Dame Law Review, vol. 67, no. 5, 1992, p. 1504 claim that in the case of the Horn of Africa, “peace talks seem to be most fruitful without the spotlight effect and constant posturing caused by the presence of mass media.” See also Hizkias Assefa, The Challenge of Mediation,” pp. 104–106. Herman J. Cohen, Intervention in Africa, p. 173; and Bruce D. Jones, Peacemaking in Rwanda, pp. 72–73. Interviews with participants, Dar es Salaam, Kigali, Washington, D.C., Kampala, January– September 1996. For summaries of these statements see “Report on Opening,” FBIS-Afr-92–134, July 13, 1992, pp. 2–4; and “Statement by the Minister for Foreign Affairs and Cooperation of the Rwandese Republic, H.E. Mr. Boniface Ngulinzira, on the return of Peace and the Building of National Unity and Democracy in Rwanda, Arusha, July 10, 1992,” Press Release, Rwandese Embassy, Dar es Salaam, July 10, 1992. Buchizya Mseteka, “Rwanda, Rebels gather for Second Peace Round,” Reuters, July 10, 1992; “RPF Sources comment,” FBIS-Afr-92–134, July 13, 1992, p. 3. Interview, Kigali, July 1996. Interview, Kigali, July 1996. “Council of Ministers Meets on War Escalation,” FBIS-Afr-92–120, June 22, 1992, pp. 2–3; “Defense Minister on Fighting,” FBIS-Afr-92–110, June 8, 1992, p. 3; “French Troops brought In,” FBIS-Afr-92–110, June 8, 1992, p. 4; “Rebel RPF says France involved in Fighting,” FBIS-Afr-92–117, June 17, 1992, p. 5. “Rwanda, Rebels Agree on Cease-re,” Reuters, July 12, 1992; “Cease-re Pact reached in Rwanda,” Chicago Tribune, July 13, 1992, p. 4; Tsegaye Tadesse, “OAU names Ofcial to monitor Rwanda Cease-re,” Reuters, July 29, 1992; “Foreign Minister on Cease-Fire, Peacekeepers,” FBIS-Afr-92–149, August 3, 1992, pp. 7–8. “Rwandan, Uganda Presidents Meet in Bujumbura,” FBIS-Afr-92–165, August 25, 1992, p. 2. “Rwanda Renews Peace Talks in Arusha,” Daily News, August 10, 1992. “President Habyarimana Discusses Cabinet Decisions,” FBIS-Afr-92–152, August 6, 1992, p. 5. “Habyarimana Speaks on Political Situation, RPF,” FBIS-Afr-92–163, August 21, 1992, p. 4. “RPF Radio Assesses Talks with Government,” FBIS-Afr-92–163, August 21, 1992, p. 5. “RPF President Interviewed on Arusha Trip,” FBIS-Afr-92–172, September 3, 1992, p. 3. Interview, Tanzanian informants, Dar es Salaam, May 1996. See also “Rwandan Peace Talks to Last 10 Days,” FBIS-Afr-92–176, September 10, 1992, p. 4.

102

CHAPTER THREE

75. Interview, Tanzanian informants, Dar es Salaam, May 1996. 76. “Rwandese Government, Rebels Begin Third Round of Talks,” Daily News, September 9, 1992; “Sides Present Proposals at Rwandan Peace Talks,” FBIS-Afr-92–177, September 11, 1992, pp. 5–6. 77. “Government Response to RPF Document at Arusha,” Embassy of Rwanda, Dar es Salaam, September 11, 1992. See also “Prime Minister Discusses Domestic Situation,” FBIS-Afr92–181, September 17, 1992, pp. 2–3. 78. “Joint Communiqué on Ongoing Arusha Peace Talks,” Embassy of Rwanda, Dar es Salaam, September 18, 1992; “Rwanda Government, Rebels End Talks,” Daily News, September 19, 1992; “Joint Communiqué Outlines Results of Peace Talks,” FBIS-Afr-92–184, September 22, 1992, p. 2. 79. “RPF Chairman Commemorates 1 October Rebellion,” FBIS-Afr-92–194, October 6, 1992, p. 6. See also “Changes Sought in President’s Role in Peace Talks,” FBIS-Afr-92–198, October 13, 1992, pp. 4–5; “President ‘Blocking’ Democracy: Resignation Sought,” FBISAfr-92–198, October 13, 1992, p. 4 for analysis of opposition views on Habyarimana’s negative attitude toward Arusha. 80. “Rwandan Peace Talks Continuing in Arusha,” FBIS-Afr-92–199, October 6, 1992, p. 4; “Update on Agreements Reached at Peace Talks,” FBIS-Afr-92–203, October 23, 1992, pp. 3–4. 81. Interview, Dar es Salaam, May 1996. 82. “MRND Bureau Cites ‘Lack of Consultations’,” FBIS-Afr-92–211, October 30, 1992, p. 5. 83. “Habyarimana Meets 11 Party Representatives,” FBIS-Afr-92–207, October 26, 1992, p. 8. 84. “Protocol of Agreement on Power-Sharing within the Framework of a Broad-Based Transitional Government between the Government of Republic of Rwanda and the Rwandese Patriotic Front,” Arusha, October 30, 1992. 85. “Parties Demonstrate in Kigali, 12 Injured,” FBIS-Afr-92–225, November 20, 1992, p. 2; “Further on Kigali Demonstrations, 50 Injured,” FBIS-Afr-92–225, November 20, 1992, p. 3; “Foreign Minister, Party Ofcials Meet 9 November,” FBIS-Afr-92–220, November 13, 1992, p. 2; and “Minister Urges MRND to Back Arusha Talks,” FBIS-Afr-92–223, November 18, 1992, p. 3. 86. “Letter from Prime Minister Dismas Nsengiyaremye to President Major-General Juvenal Habyarimana,” Kigali, November 18, 1992. 87. “Letter from Prime Minister Dismas Nsengiyaremye to President Major-General Juvenal Habyarimana,” Kigali, November 18, 1992. 88. “Mwinyi, Museveni Discuss Relations,” Daily News, November 17, 1992; “Museveni Returns from Tanzania, Comments,” New Vision, November 18, 1992. 89. “MRND Addresses Current Problems,” FBIS-Afr-92–230, November 30, 1992, p. 7. 90. “Talks Resume in Arusha, Internal Divisions Deepen,” FBIS-Afr-92–226, November 23, 1992, p. 10; “Cabinet Accepts Power Sharing Proposal,”FBIS-Afr-92–230, November 30, 1992, pp. 6–7; “Cabinet Discusses Current Affairs,” FBIS-Afr-92–230, November 30, 1992, p. 8. 91. Interview with RPF informants, Kigali, July 1996. 92. “President on Arusha Negotiations, Security,” FBIS-Afr-92–233, December 3, 1992, p. 2. 93. “Peace Talks Remain Deadlocked: Collapse Avoided,” FBIS-Afr-92–241, December 15, 1992, pp. 1–2.

TANZANIA MEDIATES RWANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1992–1993

103

94. “Tanzanian Foreign Minister Leaves for Kigali,” Daily News, December 8, 1992; “Rwandan President on Talks,” FBIS-Afr-92–247, December 23, 1992, p. 1; “Rwanda Talks Resume Today, says Mwinyi,” Daily News, December 1, 1992; African Research Bulletin (ARB), January 1–31 1993, p. 10867. 95. For a good discussion of the CDR’s marginalization see Bruce D. Jones, Peacemaking in Rwanda, pp. 81–2. 96. “Protocol of Agreement on Cabinet Portfolios and the Transitional National Assembly Between the Government of the Republic of Rwanda and Rwandese Patriotic Front,” Arusha, Tanzania, January 6, 1993. For accounts of the process see “Agreement ‘Finally’ Signed on Transition,” FBIS-Afr-92–248, December 24, 1992, p. 1; “Rwandese Sides Agree on Cabinet Allocations,” Daily News, December 23, 1992; “Government, RPF Agree on National Assembly,” FBIS-Afr-93–006, January 11, 1993, pp. 4–5. 97. “MRND ‘Refuses’ Role in Government,” FBIS-Afr-93–006, January 11, 1993, p. 5. For previous stance see “MRND Offers Plan for Distributing Posts,” FBIS-Afr-92–249, December 28, 1992, pp. 5–6. 98. “Rwanda: President on Clashes of 21st–22nd January and Arusha Talks,” BBC Summary of World Broadcasts, no. ME/1597/B/1, January 27, 1993. 99. “MRND Continues Demonstrations: Kigali Under Curfew,” FBIS-Afr-93–012, January 21, 1993, pp. 4–5; “Youth Block Roads: Hinder Arusha Talks,” FBIS-Afr-93–012, January 4, 1993, p. 2; “Displaced Tutsis Fear Massacre by Hutu Neighbors,” FBIS-Afr-93–021, February 3, 1993, pp. 2–4. 100. “President Meets Envoys, Discusses Regional Violence,” and “Council of Ministers Discuss Arusha Agreements,” FBIS-Afr-93–025, February 9, 1993, pp. 2–4. 101. “Arusha Talks in ‘Stormy Discussions’ on 29 January,” FBIS-Afr-93–019, February 1, 1993, pp. 1–2. 102. “RPF Reports on Regime Cease-Fire Violations,” FBIS-Afr-93–019, February 1, 1993, p. 2. 103. “French Troops Fighting in Rwanda-Observers,” Daily News, February 16, 1993; “Habyarimana Calls on Rebels to End Violence,” and “Fighting Continues in Ruhengeri, Byumba Regions,” “France Sends Troops to Kigali,” FBIS-Afr-93–026, February 10, 1993, pp. 1–3; “RPF Accuses President, France of Provocations,” FBIS-Afr-93–0265, February 9, ARB, February 1–28, 1993, pp. 10902–10903; “Patriotic Front Declares ‘Immediate’ Cease-re,” FBIS-Afr-93–027, February 11, 1993, p. 3. 104. David Kamukama, Rwanda Conict: Its Roots and Regional Implications, pp. 52–3. See also Kanyarengwe’s interview with an Abidjan paper in which he said, in part, that: “This offensive enabled the RPF to double its territory and draw the international community’s attention to the situation,” “RPF Leader Discusses Power Sharing Agreements,” FBIS-Afr93–065, April 7, 1993, p. 5. 105. Interview with RPF informant, Kigali, July 1996. 106. Gerard Prunier, The Rwanda Crisis, p. 180. 107. “Prime Minister Welcomes RPF Cease-re Offer,” FBIS-Afr-93–035, February 24, 1993, p. 2. 108. “RPF Conrmation Awaited for Dar Meeting,” Daily News, March 1, 1993; “Defense Minister on Resuming Peace Talks,” FBIS-Afr-93–029, February 16, 1993, pp. 2–3; “Foreign Minister Meets MOG Commander: Cease-re Holding,” FBIS-Afr-93–030, February 17, 1993, p. 4.

104

CHAPTER THREE

109. “Respect Peace Protocols, Mwinyi Tells Rwandese,” Daily News, February 17, 1993; “RPF Says No Cease-re Until Massacres Halted,” Daily News, February 11, 1993; “RPF Conrms Cease-re, Kigali Denies,” Daily News, February 12, 1993; “RPF Rebuts Government Claims,” FBIS-Afr-93–028, February 12, 1993, p. 3. 110. For details of the terms of the cease-re negotiations and pressure on the parties see “Gasana Meets Tanzanian Minister, OAU Secretary,” and “Government Hails Peace Efforts by ‘Friendly Countries’,” FBIS-Afr-93–028, February 12, 1993, p. 4; “President Meets U.S., Belgian Envoys, Discusses RPF,” and “Foreign Minister Announces Truce,” FBISAfr-93–029, February 16, 1993, pp. 2–4; “E.C. Condemns ‘Flagrant’ Cease-re Violation,” FBIS-Afr-93–030, February 17, 1993, p. 6; “Government ‘Positively’ Responds to RPF Proposals,” FBIS-Afr-93–034, February 23, 1993, pp. 2–3. 111. “ ‘Total Stalemate’ in Bujumbura Talks Reported,” FBIS-Afr-93–039, March 2, 1993, p. 1. For other reports of the Bujumbura talks see “Bujumbura Meeting Continues: RPF Lists Demands,” FBIS-Afr-93–038, March 1, 1993, pp. 1–2; “RPF Calls French ‘Hindrance’ to Peace Process,” FBIS-Afr-93–038, February 18, 1993, pp. 2–3; “French Minister on Mediation Mission, Uganda’s Role,” FBIS-Afr-93–043, March 5, 1993, pp. 1–2. 112. For a summary of Malecela’s speech see “Rwanda Talks Resume,” Daily News, March 6, 1993. 113. “Government Guidelines for the Dar es Salaam Meeting,” Embassy of Rwanda, Dar es Salaam, March 4, 1992. See also “Government-RPF Peace Talks Continue,” Daily News, March 6, 1992. 114. For accounts of the clause see “Prime Minister Discusses Cease-re, Withdrawal,” FBIS-Afr93–043, March 8, 1993, p. 2; “‘Condential’ Clause Concerns French Troop Withdrawal,” FBIS-Afr-93–045, March 10, 1993, pp. 1–2. 115. Interview, Kigali, July 1996. 116. “French Minister on Mediation Mission, Uganda’s Role,” FBIS-Afr-93–042, March 5, 1993, pp. 1–2. 117. Interviews with Tanzanian informants, Dar es Salaam, April 1996. 118. “ ‘Condential’ Clause Concerns French Troops,” FBIS-Afr-93–045, March 10, 1993, p. 1. 119. “CDR Withdraws from Presidential Alliance,” and “MRND Secretary on ‘Defection’,” FBIS-Afr-93–058, March 29, 1993, pp. 2–3; “President Resigns from Ruling Party Chairmanship,” FBIS-Afr-93–060, March 31, 1993, p. 1; “Defense Minister Explains Absence from Peace Talks,” FBIS-Afr-93–049, March 16, 1993, p. 5. 120. Thadee Nsengiyaremye, “Rwanda Cease-re Broken Before it Takes Effect,” Reuters, March 9, 1993; “Patriotic Front Continues Large Scale Attacks,” FBIS-Afr-93–047, March 12, 1993, p. 2; “Rebels Accuse Government of Violating Cease-re,” FBIS-Afr-93–046, March 11, 1993, p. 2; “Defense minister says Some French Troops to Remain,” FBISAfr-93–046, March 22, 1993, p. 2; “Rwanda, Outlook,” Economist Intelligence Unit, 2nd Quarter 1993, p. 24; “Rwanda, Outlook: Talks Rely on French Intervention,” Economist Intelligence Unit, 1993, p. 1990. 121. “Foreign Minister Supports UN Resolution,” FBIS-Afr-93–048, March 15, 1993, p. 1; “Museveni Receives UN Team Regarding Observer Mission,” New Vision, March 15, 1993, p. 5; “Mwinyi Welcomes UN Initiative on Rwanda,” Daily News, March 16, 1993. 122. “Events at Peace Talks Reviewed: Timetable Announced,” FBIS-Afr-93–051, March 18, 1993, pp. 1–2; “Rwandese Sides Discuss Military Integration,” Daily News, March 19, 1993.

TANZANIA MEDIATES RWANDA’S CIVIL WAR, 1992–1993

105

123. “President on Arusha Talks, Other Issues,” FBIS-Afr-92–178, September 14, 1992, p. 3. 124. Interview, Kigali, July 1996. See also “RPF Commander Discusses Ugandan Ties, Army ‘Merger’,” FBIS-Afr-93–049, March 16, 1993, p. 5; “Parties on the Verge of Breakthrough,” FBIS-Afr-93–050, March 17, 1993, p. 5. 125. “Rwandese Parties Agree on 22,000-man Army,” Daily News, March 25, 1993; “Government, RPF Discuss Military Integration,” FBIS-Afr-93–053, March 22, 1993, p. 3; “Further on Future of National Army,” FBIS-Afr-93–056, March 25, 1993, p. 4. 126. “Rwandese Deadlocked Over the Proportion in Army,” Daily News, April 1, 1993; “Rwanda Peace Talks Stall Over New Army,” Daily News, April 3, 1993. 127. “President on Talks With Rebels, Reconciliation,” FBIS-Afr-93–087, May 7, 1993, p. 2. 128. “Rwanda, Rebels Agree on International Force,” Daily News, April 7, 1993. 129. “Delegations Reach Agreement on Forces,” FBIS-Afr-93–091, May 13, 1993; “President Mwinyi Urges End to Rwandan Peace Talks,” Daily News, May 13, 1993. 130. “Parties Agree on Points Concerning Military and Kigali,” FBIS-Afr-93–099, May 25, 1993, p. 2; “Transitional Structures,” FBIS-Afr-93–103, June 1, 1993, p. 2. 131. “Prime Minister on Peace Talks, Reactions,” FBIS-Afr-93–114, June 16, 1993, p. 3. 132. “Team Discuss Resettlement of War Displaced,” FBIS-Afr-93–102, May 28, 1993, pp. 3–4; “Communiqué Issued on the Return of War-Displaced People,” FBIS-Afr-93–103, June 1, 1993, pp. 2–3. 133. “Government-RPF Negotiations Continue in Arusha,” FBIS-Afr-93–108, June 8, 1993, pp. 3–4; “Principles Agreed on Refugee Problem,” Daily News, June 8, 1993, p. 4. 134. “Ambassador Mpungwe submits Proposals on New Rwandan Army,” Daily News, May 31, 1993; “Facilitator submits Proposals,” FBIS-Afr-93–104, June 2, 1993, p. 5. 135. “RPF Accepts 40 Percent Army Proportion,” and “Final Agreement in Arusha Expected 19 June,” FBIS-Afr-93–113, June 15, 1993, pp. 4–5; “Habyarimana Postpones Signing of Peace Agreement,” Daily News, June 24, 1993; “Government-RPF Peace Agreement ‘Postponed Indenitely’,” FBIS-Afr-93–121, June 25, 1993, p. 5. 136. Africa Research Bulletin, August 1–31, 1993, p. 11094. 137. “Minister Comments on Deadlock,” Daily News, June 24, 1993. 138. “Tanzania Calls for Signing of Rwandan Peace Accord,” Daily News, June 26, 1993; “Minister Comments on Return from Talks in Arusha,” FBIS-Afr-93–123, June 26, 1993, pp. 11–12. 139. Interview, Dar es Salaam, April 1996. 140. “President, Cabinet Meet on Talks with Tanzania’s Foreign Minister Rwegasira,” FBISAfr-93–138, July 21, 1993, pp. 1–2; “Talks with Patriotic Front End at Kinihira,” and “Government, RPF Sign Protocol on Army Integration,” FBIS-Afr-93–142, July 27, 1993, pp. 2–3. 141. “The Arusha Peace Accord,” Daily News, August 5, 1993. 142. “The Arusha Peace Accord,” Daily News, August 5, 1993. For a good analysis of the accord see Filip Reyntjens, “Constitutions in Extreme Crisis: The Case of Rwanda and Burundi,” Journal of African Law, vol. 40, no.2, 1996, pp. 234–35. 143. “France Praises Tanzanian Role in Rwanda Accord,” Reuters, August 5, 1993; Sethi Kamuhanda, “Cohen Lauds Dar Role in Rwanda Peace Talks,” Daily News, October 1, 1992. 144. “Arusha Peace Accord,” Daily News, August 5, 1993. For other accounts of the accord see Paul Chintowa, “Rwanda: Warring Factions Sign Peace Accord,” Inter Press Service,

106

145. 146. 147.

148.

149. 150. 151.

152. 153.

154. 155.

156. 157. 158. 159. 160. 161.

CHAPTER THREE

August 5, 1993; “Euphoria, Anxiety Grips Rwandan Capital over Peace Prospects,” Daily News, August 4, 1993. “The Arusha Peace Accord,” Daily News, August 5, 1993. “The Arusha Peace Accord,” Daily News, August 5, 1993. See for instance, Scott R. Feil, Preventing Genocide: How the Use of Force Might Have Succeeded in Rwanda (New York: Carnegie Corporation Report, April 1998); Bruce D. Jones, “‘Intervention without Borders’: Humanitarian Intervention in Rwanda, 1990–94,” Millennium: Journal of International Studies, vol. 24, no. 2, 1995, pp. 225–49. RPF informants acknowledged that they had no way of inuencing this phase of events, since Museveni had requested UN deployment to assure Habyarimana that military supplies were not passing through Uganda any more. Interviews, Kigali, July 1996. “UN Team says Rwanda’s Situation is Peaceful, Encouraging,” Daily News, September 2, 1993, p. 1. Cited in the United Nations, The United Nations and Rwanda, 1993–1996 (New York: The United Nations, 1997), p. 24. “Premier Urges Calm Amid ‘Growing Insecurity’,” FBIS-Afr-93–161, August 23, 1993, p. 3. See also “Rwandan President Expresses Concern over Accord Deadline,” FBIS-Afr93–167, August 31, 1993, p. 5. “Rwanda: Fragile Agreement,” ARB, September 1–30, 1993, p. 11128. For regional diplomatic efforts after the Arusha accord see “Joint Communiqué Issued Between President Habyarimana and Museveni on Improving Bilateral and Regional Relations,” New Vision, September 2, 1993; Paul Chintowa, “Rwanda: Habyarimana to Brief Tanzania on Peace Accord,” Inter Press Service, August 28, 1993. The United Nations and Rwanda, 1993–1996, pp. 240–54. Paul Chintowa, “Rwanda: Habyarimana to Brief Tanzania on Peace Accord,” Inter Press Service, August 28, 1993. For a good analysis of Habyarimana’s fate see Lindsey Hilsum, “Rwanda: Settling Scores,” Africa Report, vol. 39, no. 2 (May–June 1994), p. 15. Alan J. Kuperman, “The Other Lesson of Rwanda: Mediators Sometimes do More Harm Than Good,” SAIS Review, vol. 16, no. 1, 1996, pp. 221–240. Bruce D. Jones, Peacemaking in Rwanda, p. 90. Alan J. Kuperman, “The Other Lesson of Rwanda,” p. 240. Interview, Addis Ababa, June 1996. Interview, Kigali, July 1996. Interview, Kigali, July 1996.

Chapter Four

Nyerere Mediates Burundi’s Civil War, 1995–1999 While Mwalimu Nyerere is respected as an elder statesman who participated actively in the liberation struggles of African nations, we note that he cannot be impartial in Burundi since his own country is hosting two of the armed factions in the conict. Tanzania’s involvement in sanctions evasion and in giving territorial access to rebel groups could damage his credibility.1 A Report by Ugandan MPs, December 1997 The solution to our conict is not in Brussels or in Paris, Washington, or even Arusha but among the Burundians . . . Above all I want to say that it is not the mediator who is going to nd the solution, but the Burundians.2 Burundian President, Pierre Buyoya, September 1998

Introduction African elder statesmen are often called upon to mediate intractable internal conicts. Their roles are new, untested, and contested. Questions abound about their institutional standing, sources of authority, legitimacy, and efcacy. Chapters four and ve use the role of Nyerere and Mandela in the 1995–2003 Burundi civil war to illustrate the promises and problems of Africa’s non-state mediators. Elder statesmen are invoked for their supposed wisdom, empathy, and preparedness to manage protracted civil conicts. Where presidents and foreign ministers are consumed by matters of state, elder statesmen have more time to devote to the tasks of mediation and conict resolution. Where state mediators are often biased toward incumbents in civil wars, the relative insulation of elder statesmen from the parties affords them greater latitude to innovate and take risks. Most proponents of the intermediary roles of elder statesmen emphasize the credibility that derives from their previous prominent positions in their countries. Spencer, for instance, notes that the eminent person’s strategy is predicated on “their trust, credibility, and charismatic authority to persuade

108

CHAPTER FOUR

conicting parties to go to the negotiating table and to keep them engaged a process once it had begun.”3 Yet this organizational potential may at times be exaggerated. The diplomatic legitimacy and credibility should not obscure the obstacles to elder statesmen’s effectiveness as mediators. Their unique status facilitates entry into conicts, but once they become part of the negotiations, elder statesmen are subject to pressures and demands that require individual creativeness and tact. These chapters argue that while the personal stature of elder statesmen endows them with potential authority over disputants, their effectiveness ultimately rests on the mix of leverage from authoritative third parties found at national, regional, and international levels. Viewed from the perspective of mediators as authoritative third parties managing complex trilateral relationships, the effectiveness of elder statesmen depends signicantly on their ability to mobilize coercive pressures and resources from multiple constituencies. Nyerere’s mediation efforts are set against the backdrop of the turbulence that marked Burundi politics starting in the mid-1990s. This conict generated debates among Burundian parties, regional, and international actors about how to effect positive political change. This chapter examines Nyerere’s ability as a mediator to navigate the welter of competing parties and pressures. It also highlights his role in dealing with regional and international actors on issues ranging from economic sanctions on Burundi to appropriate modalities of managing the mediation. Discussion of the multiple pressures on the mediator builds on the theme of crowdedness, revealing the intricate relations between external and local actors in affecting the substance of local outcomes.

Background to the Conict: Intervention or Sovereignty? Civil conicts have plagued Burundi since independence in the early 1960s. The conict that began in the mid-1990s combined new pressures for political participation and representation with the old ethnic animosities, land scarcity, and militarization of society. Throughout the postcolonial period, Burundi’s minority Tutsi dominated political, economic, and military sectors. In 1966, an extremist faction of the Tutsi military overthrew the Tutsi monarchy inaugurating an era of ethnic violence and dictatorial rule by a military clique comprising Tutsi from the south. In 1987, Major Pierre Buyoya overthrew the military regime of Lt. Col. Jean-Baptiste Bagaza and installed a Military Committee of National Salvation.4 Buyoya differed from his predecessors in style and substance, beginning an era of relative political reform. Where previous regimes had relied on ethnic

NYERERE MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1995–1999

109

pogroms to remain in power, Buyoya tried to pursue a humane and enlightened policy. Although in 1988 Buyoya used the military to suppress a rebellion in the north at the cost of 20,000 lives, he also initiated economic and political reforms designed to correct political and economic imbalances, and overcome the legacy of ethnic violence and human rights abuses. In May 1990, Buyoya launched a constitutional review process in response to donor pressure for pluralism. As part of this effort, Buyoya dissolved the Military Committee of National Salvation and rejuvenated the Tutsi-dominated political party, the Union for National Progress Party (UPRONA), as the vehicle for organizing the transition to civilian rule. In 1992, Burundi adopted a new constitution that permitted the participation of other political parties. Despite attempts to discourage party aggregation along ethnic lines, Hutu challengers to UPRONA formed their own party, the Front for Democracy in Burundi (FRODEBU), led by Melchior Ndadaye.5 In the democratic elections in June 1993, Ndadaye became Burundi’s rst Hutu president. Ndadaye described his victory as marking “the start of an era of a culture of human rights, including political rights, the right to live, and economic and social rights.”6 Although FRODEBU captured 65 per cent of the presidential vote and 80 per cent of parliamentary seats, Ndadaye sought ethnic inclusiveness by having UPRONA’s representation in the cabinet.7 However, Ndadaye’s gesture of national reconciliation did not weaken the Tutsi domination of the military, the bureaucracy, and business. Even as the outside world hailed the departing Buyoya as a “hero and legend,”8 for restoring democracy and national reconciliation, the structures he had bequeathed continued to reect minority dominance. Shortly after assuming power, the new government faced competing pressures from Tutsis seeking to retain their military and economic power and Hutus clamoring for the benets of majority rule.9 In October 1993, the military, uneasy with FRODEBU’s moves to control local administrative structures and the hostile rhetoric of some of its leaders, attempted a coup that led to Ndadaye’s assassination. Surviving government members ed the country or sought refuge in foreign embassies. UN and human rights investigations later implicated the top military hierarchy in the coup plot. Following the failed coup, there was a brutal wave of communal violence, with estimates of up to 30–50,000 people killed and 150,000 displaced. Rwanda, Tanzania, and Zaire bore the brunt of the mostly Hutu refugees eeing from the conict.10 Ndadaye’s assassination and the reversal of the democratic experiment provided an opportunity for external intervention into the conict to end instability. As Weissman noted, the Burundi conict presented would-be peacemakers the chance to reduce fears of ethnic annihilation and foster nonviolent means

110

CHAPTER FOUR

of decision making.11 Despite regional and international pressure for intervention, the dilemma for external actors became how to enter into the conict to contribute to the restoration of constitutional order. For external interveners to enter in civil conicts they require invitation, but efforts to gain entry in these contested contexts yields conicts among internal parties. Invitation requires a modicum of internal stability where the interests and stakes of the parties are well-dened to allow external actors to exert leverage.12 In conicts between challengers and incumbents entry and invitation become contested games, compounding the intervention of would-be mediators. In late 1993, the conict between internal parties over the meaning of sovereignty presented obstacles to external actors seeking to help end the conict. The Burundi military, fearful of being forced out of power, sought to use sovereignty to ward off external interveners while Hutu civilian parties, seeking to preempt the progressive erosion of their democratic gains, saw sovereignty as the license to invite outsiders into the conict. The fragmented power balance colored by contests between intervention and non-intervention shaped the parameters of subsequent mediation initiatives. Following Ndadaye’s assassination and the interethnic massacres, UN Secretary General, Boutros-Boutros Ghali, suggested an international military intervention force to restore stability. On October 25, 1993, the UN Security Council condemned the military act “against the democratically elected Government of Burundi,” and demanded its perpetrators to desist from any action that would “exacerbate the tension and plunge the country into more violence and bloodshed, which would have serious implications for peace and security in the region.” The Security Council also called for the immediate reinstitution of democracy and constitutional rule in Burundi, noting that the “perpetrators of the putsch should lay down their arms and return to their barracks.”13 From the outset, however, the Security Council, restricted by American reluctance to intervene in African conicts in the wake of the Somalia disaster of early October 1993, appealed to African countries to take responsibility for such an intervention force. On a fact-nding trip to Burundi, UN Under Secretary-General James Jonah, ruled out UN intervention “because of the costs and dangers to member states.” Responding to Prime Minister Sylvie Kinigi’s request for military intervention, Jonah called on Africa to use the OAU’s conict prevention mechanisms to intervene in Burundi.14 In light of UN reluctance, an OAU initiative coalesced around the regional states most affected by the inux of refugees. The mounting economic, political, and environmental pressures from refugees forced neighbors to discuss assuming the responsibility to stem further instability. In late October 1993, Rwanda, Tanzania, and Zaire proposed an OAU-led multinational force for

NYERERE MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1995–1999

111

Burundi. In its initial conception, the Mission for Protection and Restoration of Trust in Burundi (MIPROBU), comprising 180 soldiers and 20 civilian observers, sought to restore order and mediate the selection of a new president and facilitate the military’s withdrawal from power. The proposed force elicited acrimonious debate between supporters and opponents of intervention. The Tutsi military and its civilian allies opposed the MIPROBU because it smacked of regional interference in Burundian internal affairs, but FRODEBU and Hutu defenders of representative civilian institutions saw it as a source of condence. As Burundi’s Foreign Minister, Paul Munyembari, explained: The OAU peacekeeping force would not be deployed in Burundi to ght the army, but to protect the government that no longer trusts the army, so that a process of meaningful dialogue can begin. An army that turns on its commander-in-chief [Ndadaye] cannot be trusted. The Burundi army is one that is feared by the nationals. We hope the presence of a token external force will shame them into loyalty to a democratically-elected government.15

Regional states under Tanzania’s leadership sided with the civilians but this gave ammunition to the military which transformed intervention into a dispute about national pride. Over the course of the conict, opposition to intervention grew into a defense of sovereignty and territorial integrity, particularly when regional states made veiled attacks on the Burundian military. The military’s invocation of sovereignty accomplished three things. First, it shifted the debate from issues of power imbalance and human rights violations to the country’s defense against outsiders who wanted to weaken the military. Second, government efforts to invite foreigners weakened and discredited its domestic position. Third, the internal divisions reduced the external momentum for the intervention because regional states had predicated its deployment on nancial and logistical support from Western donors. In the wake of the UN’s Somalia debacle, the domestic deadlock between the government and opponents of the proposed OAU intervention, hardened the resolve of reluctant donors against a peacekeeping force. In addition to the mounting domestic opposition and decreasing international interest, the OAU planners questioned the ability of a 180-man force to carry out its mission. The proposed force was too small to end the conict, but too large to be acceptable to opponents of intervention. The OAU’s SecretaryGeneral Salim pointed to this dilemma: “We don’t think the OAU mission will cause any problems as the opposition thinks. Burundi has an estimated 15,000-men in the army. How can 180 OAU soldiers cause a threat? We are going to talk to the opposition to ensure the OAU mission goes there to restore peace and harmony. The refusal by the opposition will not be in the interest of the people of Burundi, the OAU and the region.”16

112

CHAPTER FOUR

As a compromise, the military and its opponents agreed to the deployment of a 70-man MIPROBU team in November 1993; on the date of actual deployment in February 1994, the force level was reduced to 18. The UN Secretary-General Boutros Boutros-Ghali also appointed a special envoy, Ahmedou Ould-Abdallah, to work with the OAU to facilitate dialogue between the parties to the conict.17 For the military, the token force did not alter the status quo, yet deployment made it seem less intransigent to the UN and other international actors. Ould-Abdalla has reected on the nature of the internal conict at the start of his mission: Some FRODEBU leaders were calling for foreign troops, no fewer than 5,000 men – an idea strongly opposed by members of UPRONA . . . One unfortunate misapprehension was the conviction held by the Burundian government that its “cause” was the rst item on international agenda. Time and again, government ofcials asserted that “troops will arrive to protect and nurture this new-born democracy.” They became prisoners of their own speeches, much to the delight of extremist Tutsis who were better informed and more realistic about international affairs and the priorities of the international community.18

With the military successful at preempting an effective African intervention force, it was now in a position to inuence internal talks for the establishment of a new government. The rst phase of these negotiations, mediated by Special Representative Ould-Abdalla ended in a collective agreement in January 1994 whereby the National Assembly selected a Hutu President Cyprien Ntaryamira, who then appointed a Tutsi Prime Minister to lead a multiparty government in which the Tutsi gained 40 per cent of the seats.19 This agreement, however, produced only a lull in the crisis. Ntaryamira asked the military to “open their eyes more, to work impartially, and to stop the bad actions which keep on causing trouble in the country.”20 But the military continued to act autonomously from the government. In March 1994, the military swept through Bujumbura’s largest Hutu-dominated neighborhoods and “ethnically cleansed” most Hutus from the capital. Amidst increasing insecurity, the Hutu Interior Minister, Leonard Nyangoma, appealed for a 5,000-man international force to end the clashes.21 Likewise, the Speaker of National Assembly Chris Sendegenya remarked: “We need a good team of [OAU] soldiers who could prevent the current army from doing any harm, who could begin the whole process of disarmament, and then could help us to set up a real national army, made up of soldiers from all regions.”22 The death of Ntaryamira and Rwandan President Juvenal Habyarimana in a plane crash in Kigali in April 1994 interrupted diplomatic consultations for an intervention force. These deaths and subsequent events wrought instability in both countries. During and after the killings in Rwanda, Burundi’s refugees from

NYERERE MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1995–1999

113

Rwanda increased to more than 200,000, sapping its already strained economy. Furthermore, the inux of refugees heightened ethnic tensions because most extremist Hutu perpetrators of genocide, the Interahamwe.23 Furthermore, the genocide of Tutsis in Rwanda turned the Burundian military against negotiated settlements that would lead to majority rule. For this reason, the genocide added a new dimension to inamed domestic debates on international intervention which regional actors saw as a way to preempt Burundi’s descent into violence. The Burundian military, however, was convinced that intervention would not guarantee its security. The second phase of UN-mediated internal power sharing negotiations started in May 1994. Many Tutsi’s sought to use Rwanda’s genocide to discredit democracy in Burundi and preempt regional pressures. Although the National Assembly had chosen FRODEBU’s Sylvestre Ntibantunganya as interim president, he was in a weak position to affect the negotiations. In July 1994, the talks deadlocked over opposition proposals for the creation of an appointed National Security Council (NSC) that would curb presidential power. Ntibantunganya described this move as a contravention of the majority’s will, but the hard-line Tutsi opposition prevailed through strikes, street demonstrations, and violence.24 In September 1994, the political parties reached a power-sharing agreement that replaced the 1992 constitution with a Convention of Government. The agreement gave 55 percent of cabinet positions to Hutus and 45 percent to Tutsis and created the NSC, a body charged with approving all government decisions. In light of the military’s representation on the NSC, Tutsis in effect exercised veto power over any action by an elected government.25 The agreement promised elections in 1998, and a national debate about the ethnic composition of the army, judiciary, and administration, and created a coalition government that guaranteed paralysis. As Zacarias notes, the Convention’s main objective was to create an unmanageable coalition of enemies, “allowing the military to continue to call the shots.”26 In this respect, the agreement achieved by political means precisely what planners of the attempted coup had failed to attain by military means: superseding the 1992 constitution and nullifying FRODEBU’s power. By stripping Hutus of power, the Convention of Government contributed to the rapid growth of Hutu militancy. In response, Tutsi militias became equally deant. But while the civilian government’s legitimacy rested on disarming Tutsi militias and restoring security, it depended on the Tutsi security forces to achieve these tasks. Thus, whenever President Ntibantunganya instructed them to suppress Tutsi militias, they rarely did so, further alienating Hutus. Consequently, Hutus blamed Ntibantunganya for failing to bring the military under civilian control while Tutsi hardliners suspected that he quietly supported the

114

CHAPTER FOUR

Hutu insurgents and favored foreign military intervention.27 The army leadership supported civilian institutions but President Ntibantunganya did not believe it: “There are groups in Bujumbura who want the situation to worsen so that at a point they will declare themselves agents of peace . . . It is a well-established destabilization process which consists of refusing the political consensus we reached by signing the governance agreement . . . the logic of destabilization, which we have had since 21 October 1993, consists of hampering the state and preventing it from obtaining the means to ensure peace and security in the country.”28 The mid-1995 insecurity that gripped Bujumbura justied the military’s claims of civilian incompetence. Taking advantage of the political stalemate, Hutu militias increased attacks on military and civilian targets. The army reacted by occupying Hutu residential areas, which dislodged tens of thousands of Hutu civilians from the city.29 This crackdown heightened Hutu ethnic identity which coalesced around the insurgent Party for the Liberation of Hutu People (Parti pour la Liberation du Peuple Hutu, PALIPEHUTU), and the National Council for the Defense of Democracy (Conseil National pour la Défense de la Démocratie, CNDD), with its armed wing, the Democratic Defense Forces (Forces de Défense de la Démocratie, FDD), led by Leonard Nyangoma, a former Interior Minister.30 The CNDD’s guerrilla campaign gathered steam in 1995, operating initially in the northwest where the Burundian military had little control. The Burundi Prime Minister conceded in early 1995 that while peace could be created in Bujumbura, “in the rest of the country, this will be more difcult. The 30,000 armed men of Leonard Nyangoma’s FDD who have been joined by Rwandan ghters are now inside the national borders and Burundi with all its hills is an ideal terrain for guerillas.”31 Describing President Ntibantunganya as the “army’s hostage in Bujumbura,” Nyangoma claimed that the war was necessary because the “the international community has remained indifferent to the question of the army. This is why the people themselves have organized and created a parallel army. We prefer to lead the army – once it has been weakened – to come to the negotiating table so that we can nd a nal, peaceful solution in which the Hutus and Tutsis can live together peacefully, in which the members of the military who can are reconciled to accepting democracy can coexist with [the rest of society].”32 The internal negotiations had preempted the moves for regional intervention, but, by mid-1995, the instability of the governing coalition and the escalating insurgency rejuvenated appeals for international efforts to restore order. The decision on intervention still hinged on reconciling the conicting positions of the military and civilians. As one Hutu observer put it, Burundi faced a national tragedy “because the democrats are determined not to give up the power that

NYERERE MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1995–1999

115

they democratically seized from the putschists who also, on their part, are determined to combat the democrats.”33 Calls for intervention became a policy plank of Hutu civilians who were hostage to a power-sharing agreement that had neither restored their power nor brought political stability. Thus, president Ntibantunganya, a reluctant gurehead seeking to restore FRODEBU’s power despite the Convention, justied foreign military intervention in the context of Burundi’s inability to mend its own house: If a country wants to avoid the international community’s interference in its affairs, it must be able to manage these affairs properly . . . When we signed the Convention of Government, no one in the international community lifted a nger to say: we are going to intervene . . . But as soon as they saw that the machinery we had built ourselves had started to fail, because of our own actions, they felt concerned, especially in the light of the Rwanda disaster . . . I would rather lose my leadership but prevent genocide in Burundi.34

Another FRODEBU leader was more blunt: The Burundi government should admit to the Burundi people and the international community that the Burundi state is no longer capable of providing security for all citizens and foreigners, and consequently it should ask for immediate help from the international community in the eld of security to avoid disaster . . . those pretending that all of Burundi’s problems must be solved by Burundians themselves . . . are among the sponsors of the current massacres [who] would like to continue working in secrecy.35

Regional pressure for intervention reemerged after the Burundian army clashed with CNDD rebels on the Burundi-Tanzania border in April 1995, provoking a mass exodus of Hutus into Tanzania. Tanzania, the main destination of Burundi refugees eeing Tutsi repression since the 1960s was becoming increasingly impatient with Burundi’s instability. As the insecurity continued, Tanzania sealed its border with Burundi to check the refugee inux and also threatened to invade Burundi to stop the civilian massacre.36 An ofcial of Tanzania’s Foreign Affairs Ministry warned: “We can’t stay as spectators. We will act strongly if the army continues to kill the people. Tanzania urges the Burundi government to ensure such murders are stopped immediately. The killings of innocent people in Burundi could not be seen as the internal affairs of Burundi. This is genocide and against human rights. As a neighbor, we will not stay and see such murders continue. We can’t just stand and see people being killed.”37 In a similar vein, the OAU’ Secretary-General Salim, on a visit to Bujumbura, raised the possibility of military intervention, threatening OAU action if the massacres continued.38 In the absence of nancial and military resources, threats of intervention failed to break the political logjam. Belgian Foreign Minister, Erick Derycke

116

CHAPTER FOUR

underscored the aversion of Western countries to participate in a military intervention: “Sending soldiers is not up for discussion. I myself am in favor of strengthening the OAU’s role, for order to be maintained by the Africans themselves. I think we have looked at African politics for far too long via neo-colonial glasses . . . Burundi has an elected parliament, president, and government. In the rst place they must defend the democratic gains. This time let the Burundians do it for themselves for once.”39 Without the means for military intervention, regional states opted for a diplomatic approach that focused on resolving the refugee crisis in the Great Lakes region. According to a U.S. ofcial, Mobutu’s August 1995 aborted move to expel Rwandese refugees in the Eastern Zaire focused attention on the refugee crisis: “Mobutu-inspired refugee crisis energized the United National High Commission for Refugees (UNHCR) which then galvanized regional action.”40 The emphasis on refugees expanded the number of parties in the conict to include Burundi and Rwanda, the producers of refugees, and Tanzania and Zaire, the principal hosts of these refugees. By couching the conict as one of Burundian and Rwandan refugees, regional actors hoped to restart the stalled peace process on less interventionist terms. Also, it was easier to attract waning international attention by presenting the refugee problem as the major source of regional destabilization. UN Special Representative OuldAbdallah, for instance, described it as a “serious question long overshadowed by the litany of worst case scenarios for Burundi.”41 Finally, a regional solution to the refugee problem could meet the Burundi army’s objective to cut CNDD’s regional military supply lines in the refugee camps of eastern Zaire and Western Tanzania. Then new regional diplomatic efforts began when Museveni, Mobutu, and Mwinyi invited former U.S. President Jimmy Carter to assist in bringing peace and security to the Great Lakes region. Included in the Carter initiatives were African elder statesmen, Nyerere; former Malian president, Amoud Toumani Toure; and South African Archbishop, Desmond Tutu. During Carter’s rst conference in Cairo in November 1995, Burundi, Rwanda, Tanzania, Uganda, and Zaire agreed to work on a framework for refugee repatriation and to end cross-border raids and arms trafcking by militia groups in refugee camps in Eastern Zaire and Western Tanzania.42 By the second Great Lakes summit in Tunis in March 1996, Carter’s intervention had started a consultative relationship among the ve core regional states without diminishing Burundi’s chronic cycle of violence. At Tunis, the Burundi delegation pledged to end insecurity by starting a new national debate on a democratic constitution that would form the basis for 1998 elections. Burundi also promised to redene the army’s mission to make it more responsible for the population’s security. The Carter

NYERERE MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1995–1999

117

initiatives designated Nyerere as the mediator in Burundi, charging him with helping the parties to a national debate on power sharing.43

Nyerere Mediates: The Mwanza Process, March–July 1996 Nyerere’s intervention in Burundi captures the tensions inherent in intermediaries straddling unofcial and ofcial domains. In their primary roles, elder statesmen are expected to bargain with disputants, explore tradeoffs, proffer compromises, and terminate conicts. But their secondary roles are equally weighty: managing the demands and pressures that multiple actors bring to civil wars. These conicts engender diverse actors ranging from local and international NGOs to regional and foreign state actors with varying sources of authority who always speak in multifaceted voices. In such contexts, elder statesmen face challenges of coordination that affect their intervention capabilities. Theorists attempting to understand multiple actors in civil conicts emphasize the supplementation, sequencing, and subcontracting of roles to facilitate conict resolution.44 Nyerere’s mediation reveals that while diverse actors lend resources to local mediators, the latter are invariably caught in webs of competing interests and expectations. The emphasis by the Carter Center and the OAU on eminent persons in mediation legitimated Nyerere’s intervention. This institutional convergence later extended to the UN, anchoring Nyerere in a wider international framework. Nyerere t the prole of a respectable former head of state with the time and energy to devote to Burundi’s mediation. Nyerere ‘s supporter’s viewed him as possessing the ability to use the moral force of his former ofce as a fount of national, regional, and international leverage. One observer noted that: “Nyerere could use his inuence as one of Africa’s few respected statesmen to help pile the pressure on Burundi’s feuding parties. Nyerere may be the only gure with sufcient prestige to push for a successful settlement because of his knowledge of the parties and nature of the conict. Moreover, Nyerere is a logical choice due to a forceful personality that would steer the Burundian parties toward a settlement that he could defend and sell to the outside world.”45 Apart from the skills as a mediator, Nyerere’s credibility rested on national, regional, and international pillars. Anchored in these contexts, a major challenge of Nyerere’s mediation was to strike a balance among them, particularly as the national and regional identities increasingly came into conict with the demands and expectations from the international realm. Furthermore, as in the Arusha mediation of Rwanda’s civil war, Nyerere’s power and prestige national was tied to Tanzania’s geopolitical standing in eastern Africa. As expressed

118

CHAPTER FOUR

by a Ugandan observer: “Tanzania’s connection to Burundi transcends the geographical embrace. Nyerere, widely a respected African elder statesman, is the brain behind the Burundi initiative . . . Tanzania is the spiritual head of Africa’s postindependence struggle. Like the other great center of world peace, Switzerland, Tanzania owes its international respect to its stability. In the region, Tanzania stands as a beacon of political stability and social harmony. It is no surprise that it is leading the region’s peace drive.”46 At the international level, the concurrent external pressures of governments and NGOs on the Burundian parties furnished leverage to Nyerere. Of importance in the initial phase of Nyerere’s mediation was U.S. and UN preventive diplomacy that sought to isolate extremism by supporting moderate civilian and military leaders. The then US ambassador to the UN, Madeline Albright articulated this policy in Bujumbura in January 1996: The United States will not support, recognize, or provide assistance to any government that comes to power by force in Burundi. Indeed, the U.S. would lead an effort to isolate such a regime. The United States urges the leaders of Burundi to isolate the extremists and seek a lasting peace. There must not be genocide in Burundi. The government of Burundi, and military forces of Burundi, must understand that the priority of the people of the United States government and international community is the people of Burundi. Ultimately, it is the people of Burundi who have it in their hands to prevent their country from falling into the abyss. It is up to Burundians to ensure that Burundi does not commit national suicide.47

In early 1996, the UN Security Council adopted several resolutions supporting political dialogue and embarked on contingency plans for a humanitarian peacekeeping mission in the event of widespread violence. In March 1996, the Security Council also called on “all concerned in Burundi to engage as a matter of urgency, in serious negotiations and mutual accommodation . . . and to increase efforts toward national reconciliation.” The UN Secretary-General Boutros Ghali cautioned that, despite the UN’s support for Nyerere efforts, it would be neither “prudent nor responsible for the international community to assume the success of these efforts and not plan for contingency measures to avoid a catastrophe.”48 The Carter initiatives eased Nyerere’s entry into the conict. Under the rubric of Carter’s diplomacy, Tanzania and Zaire had pledged to restrain the CNDD’s cross-border raids in hopes of softening Burundian military’s opposition against regional intervention. FRODEBU and its allies, on the other hand, saw Nyerere’s mediation as a way to guarantee the restoration of its lost power. However, procedural and substantive questions that separated the Burundi parties hampered Nyerere’s intervention in the prenegotiation phase.

NYERERE MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1995–1999

119

Under the Carter framework, FRODEBU and UPRONA, the principal coalition parties in the Convention of Government, had committed themselves to national dialogue that would forge a new constitution. But this bargain remained silent on the participation of Nyangoma’s CNDD and other Hutu armed movements. The military and UPRONA ruled out negotiations with groups that failed to renounce violence. FRODEBU, riven by deep divisions, wavered, with a majority in favor of all-party talks while a vocal minority did not want to alienate its opposition partners in the Convention.49 Confronted with these divisions, Nyerere sought to establish constructive talks with the parties including the CNDD prior to the start of the negotiations. In the preliminary talks in Mwanza, Tanzania, in March and April 1996, Nyerere tried to engage all the parties, including the CNDD, in dialogue. But engaging the CNDD alienated the military who opposed Nyangoma. In the face of efforts to marginalize it, the CNDD, escalated its military pressure on the government. In early 1996, a rebel offensive occurred in eleven of the fteen provinces, including areas in southern Burundi that previously had been peaceful. Rebel incursions, however, bolstered the military’s resolve to exclude them from negotiations.50 As the rebels increased their attacks along the Zairian border, Burundian military ofcials warned that Nyerere’s mediation would fail because of Mobutu’s complicity in arming the CNDD. In May 1996, with the chances of talks waning, Nyangoma proposed a cease-re in exchange for the return of the Burundian army to the barracks and the start of direct negotiations.51 UPRONA, however, rejected this demand and instead called for the extradition of Nyangoma and his associates from Zaire, as a precondition for negotiations.52 The jostling over Nyangoma’s participation crystallized the deep-seated internal wrangles in the coalition government. FRODEBU questioned the legitimacy of the Convention of Government, charging that it had been negotiated under military pressure. It thus viewed Nyerere’s mediation as an opportunity to negotiate a new and more balanced constitutional arrangement. To UPRONA, however, Nyerere could not renegotiate the Convention, but merely help “strengthen” it. As the Tutsi Prime Minister, Nduwayo, put it: “The Convention is the minimum consensus on which we are able to operate: FRODEBU has said it no longer recognizes this agreement. We are beginning to ask ourselves what we are still doing together as partners in the government.”53 The U.S. sought to bolster Nyerere’s efforts by sending high level delegations to Burundi to end the violence. Reiterating U.S. political support for Nyerere’s Mwanza talks, Assistant Secretary of State for Democracy and Humanitarian Affairs, John Shattuck proposed that “the chief armed protagonists, the Burundian military and Hutu insurgent leader Nyangoma, must enter into an interim

120

CHAPTER FOUR

cease-re and negotiations, direct or indirect that map a political way out of crisis.”54 President Clinton also appointed Howard Wolpe as special envoy for the negotiations. These actions, however, failed to break the deadlock. In mid-June 1996, the Mwanza talks collapsed when UPRONA accused FRODEBU of complicity in the CNDD’s violent campaigns. Claiming that negotiations would obliterate the Convention, they also blamed Nyerere for being partial to Hutus and a proponent of foreign intervention.55 As an International Crisis Group report described the prenegotiations phase: Julius Nyerere was unanimously appointed as the principal mediator of the conict by the then Secretary General of the United Nations, Boutros Boutros Ghali, the Organization of African Unity, and the international community. Nyerere accepted only on the condition that he would not be the ofcial representative of these organizations and he would be able to work with total independence. It should be pointed out that his appointment was supported by the Burundian people with whom he had been working informally since 1993 and who were aware of his knowledge of the Burundi conict . . . Nyerere was therefore given a fairly free reign in the negotiations from the very beginning, and the nancial backing of the international community to bring the peace process to a successful conclusion. From March 1996, President Nyerere had wanted to take a two pronged approach to the problem: to return to constitutional rule and to negotiate with the rebel factions. However, this approach, which reopened the question of the minority Tutsi means of political pressure, negotiated by the Government Convention, was doomed to failure. As of April 1996, the Burundian Tutsi elite began to crticize Nyerere’s lack of impartiality and the two rst rounds of negotiations in Mwanza in May and June 1996 in Tanzania failed to reach an outcome.56

In two months of prenegotiations, Nyerere’s strategy of gaining the trust of all the parties had no appreciable impact on parties that had long-held misgivings about regional intervention. In a domestic context characterized more by competitive than cooperative interests, the mediator had opted for broad-based dialogue to reduce the profound differences, but he had offered few incentives to the Burundian military which would lose most from a negotiated settlement. The widespread Tutsi perception that Nyerere had failed to show “respect” and establish a “constructive dialogue” with them, illustrated the level of mistrust.57 Nyerere had projected Mwanza as a neutral arena for conict resolution, but the main protagonists read diametrically opposed things into it: FRODEBU saw Mwanza as potentially reinstating the June 1992 constitution; to UPRONA, Mwanza would undo the gains made since October 1993. Consequently, the prenegotiations became in the words of one commentator, a “tough dialogue of the deaf which only hardened the various positions.”58 Facing these obstacles, Nyerere chose a new strategy by threatening force. Following the collapse of the preliminary talks in June 1996, Nyerere blamed the army and UPRONA for impeding the talks by refusing to agree on basic principles: “I want the international community to understand that one side

NYERERE MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1995–1999

121

[the Tutsis] is the problem at this stage. I have spoken to the army leaders, and I’ve been completely brutish to them. I have said, ‘The time for you to run this country is over.’ . . . You’ll not solve the problem by military intervention, but you must not rule out military intervention. If there is an eruption of killings there, the international community must not sit again with its hands folded, as we did in Rwanda.”59 Admonishing the Burundian military for its obduracy, Nyerere warned that the conict could ignite a regional inter-ethnic conict between Tutsis in Rwanda and Burundi and their Hutu adversaries. But Nyerere’s specter of a regional war emboldened Tutsi opponents of negotiations who were convinced that the Burundian army should ensure internal order to face potentially genocidal forces, as stated by Prime Minister Nduwayo: There is a genocide army on our borders which shares the same ideology as extremists in Burundi and who are a threat to security throughout the region. That is the key issue, the fundamental issue. As long as the problems of these genocide forces remains, the subregion’s ethnic and political minorities will feel threatened. They will never allow themselves to be decimated once again and the reason the Burundian army is coming under attack is because it is the last line of defense . . . If the international community wants to make itself useful it must rst discredit this ideology and after that, we, the Burundians will look at what political system we should adopt so that ethnic and political minorities feel reassured and are able to live together . . . I think the international community should do us a service and allow the Burundians to explain their position and nd a solution among themselves.60

Nyerere’s threat to use force depended on galvanizing regional action that became necessary when neither the international efforts to shore up Burundi moderates nor the Mwanza process seemed able to break the impasse. A summit of regional leaders in Arusha in late June 1996 tried to restart Nyerere’s mediation by threatening to intervene in Burundi. The summit deplored the widespread militarization of Burundian society, urged an immediate cessation of violence, and restated the need for all-party negotiations. The region, Tanzanian President Mkapa said, had a responsibility to help the factions break out of their ingrained fears: “We must not let a recurrence of the 1994 Rwanda tragedy take place in Burundi.”61 In a decision that reignited internal debates on intervention, the Burundi coalition partners at Arusha “requested the countries of the region to provide security assistance” that would prevent ethnic violence and restore security. The request sought to complement Nyerere’s initiative and to create security conditions conducive for all parties to participate in future negotiations. Toward this end, regional states created an International Technical Committee headed by Tanzania to explore ways of providing the security assistance to Burundi.62 The vagueness of the notion of “security assistance” initially enabled the contending parties to deect concerns about the dangers to sovereignty.

122

CHAPTER FOUR

President Ntibantunganya, for instance, intimated that the intervention force would help end the killings and protect all citizens. Likewise, Prime Minister Nduwayo claimed that the assistance “should not be interpreted as military intervention . . . In places where the military intervention takes place, the country does not take part in the discussions on the dimensions of assistance or modalities. But in this case, there is real cooperation . . . The most positive side of the [Arusha proposals] is that the foreign military presence will be carried out by our friends, and second, it is dened according to Burundi’s real needs. This should be heartily welcomed since the neighboring countries, which have a stake in our security and refugees on their territory, will manage the problem with us.”63 Facing denunciation at home as traitors, however, the President and Prime Minister withdrew from the plan even before the Technical Committee began its work. Confronting street protests against regional intervention organized by hard line Tutsi factions, President Ntibantunganya proposed that the regional force be under Burundian command: “those coming to help us will not be coming to cause us problems, but to help us while respecting Burundian laws. They will be under my guidance and that of the government, and they will cooperate with our armed forces.”64 But regional states opposed the subordination of their intended military force to local command, instead preferring an autonomous command structure. As Nyerere stated: “The African force cannot be under the control of the Burundian army nor can it be under the control of the government of Burundi, but it can work in cooperation with the government.”65 The faltering domestic consensus on invitation and intervention put the region in an awkward position. With the Burundi government reverting to the idea of territorial sovereignty to undercut the regional initiative, Nyerere renewed his threat, warning of regional “peace enforcement” if the Burundi situation degenerated: “Burundian leaders have to stick to the Arusha initiative. If they don’t then we will be talking about a peace enforcement mission and we don’t want to do that yet. The best decision that the government of Burundi has made is to go to the neighboring countries and say that they need help and I would encourage them to keep to that decision.”66 Without a more concerted regional action, however, Nyerere’s threats became less credible. The Burundian military’s steadfastness in the face of external pressure followed the pattern established in October 1993. Motivated by the fear that intervention would neutralize the military’s hold on power and reverse the gains of the Convention of Government, its leaders ignored Nyerere’s admonitions. As Braeckman noted in June 1996: “Burundian political and military extremists would like nothing better than for the international com-

NYERERE MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1995–1999

123

munity to leave so that they can deliver their nal death blows and complete their overthrow of the nation’s last vestiges of democratic rule. The many mediators rushing to Burundi’s bedside want to impose a negotiation with the CNDD and also oblige the army to reform by including members of the guerrillas into its ranks.”67

Completion of a Coup: Buyoya Returns How do African mediators deal with conicts in which power imbalances preclude meaningful intervention? Are mediators superuous in civil conicts where entry and invitation become interminable contests among the protagonists? These questions point to some dilemmas that confronted Burundi’s neighbors in the aftermath of futile efforts to dispatch a peacekeeping force in July 1996. Underlying these problems was whether Nyerere, hamstrung by the obduracy of the major parties to the conict, squandered his credibility in military threats that he could not deliver. Did the mediator, seeking entry, overreach his intermediary abilities? In mobilizing regional states for the potential use of force, Nyerere struggled to transform his passive role into one that would make the internal power structure conducive to a negotiated settlement. When Nyerere began to advocate “peace enforcement,” as a means to bolster the mediation, the Burundi army overthrew the weak and divided coalition government in July 1996, returning Buyoya to power. The Buyoya coup contained a threefold strategy. First, it scuttled plans for regional military intervention. Buyoya not only condemned the Arusha plan, but also stated that “the idea of intervention alone has caused the fall of whatever government was left.”68 Later, he was more explicit about the coup: “My arrival in power hampered certain well-advanced plans for intervention in Burundi, which was in total chaos . . . It is no secret that Tanzania had a peace plan for Burundi that was very different from mine.”69 Second, given the country’s insecurity, Buyoya presented himself as the force for restoration of order and reafrmed the army’s mandate as the “guarantor of national integrity.” In defending the coup as a legitimate move to halt “collective suicide,” Buyoya pledged “to provide the army with sufcient resources to wage an all-out war against all those people who have been killing Burundians.”70 Third, Buyoya’s previous role in Burundi’s “transition” to democracy could neutralize demands for negotiations. According to a Western diplomat: “The military chose Buyoya to take over the presidency because, as a moderate, he was acceptable to the outside world, and palatable to the big foreign powers.”71 Two years later, in explaining his decision to power, Buyoya cast himself in the dual roles of a moderate and savior of Burundi:

124

CHAPTER FOUR

You must remember the climate of violence and terror that reigned in the capital and across the country. All the ingredients of a Rwandan-style genocide, or at least a large-scale massacre, were in place. The country no longer had any real government and was drifting toward a Somalia situation. Several leading gures believed at the time that I was the one most able, by dint of my experience and contacts, to fend off the threat of a bloodbath and the break up of the state . . . There was going to be a Somaliazation of Burundi. The whole place was going to go to chaos without a chance of new elections. In those conditions, I came to power. Some call it a coup. I call it an act of national salvation.72

Buyoya’s return capped the “creeping coup,” that began in October 1993, signaling the triumph of the forces that opposed external intervention.73 The sequence of events leading to the coup pointed to an organized scheme by Tutsi army and civilian parties. UPRONA precipitated the crisis by pulling out of the brittle Convention of Government after its leader, Charles Mukasi, had accused President Ntibantunganya of “crimes and acts of high treason” for alleged collaboration with the CNDD. This renunciation of power-sharing agreement heightened ethnic violence and created a power vacuum that the army lled after Ntibantunganya obtained refuge in the U.S. embassy.74 Buyoya suspended the constitution and the National Assembly, replacing them with a cabinet comprised mostly of UPRONA members. On peace talks, Buyoya promised to open a national dialogue with all groups, including rebels, as long as they renounced violence and genocide.75 Regional states criticized the coup as an affront to peace and stability, a deance of regional will. Nyerere believed that regional states had to take more forceful measures to salvage his eroding credibility.76 He, therefore, convened a regional summit in Arusha in late July 1996 that imposed economic sanctions on Burundi to restore constitutional order and legitimacy. The centerpiece of the sanctions was a blockade of Burundi’s vital transport links through neighboring countries. To monitor the implementation of these measures, the Arusha summit established a regional sanctions coordination committee.77 The sanctioning states advanced three conditions for lifting the sanctions: restoration of the National Assembly; unbanning of political parties; and the start of unconditional negotiations under the framework of the Mwanza peace process. Around these conditions there coalesced a tentative, yet novel regional solidarity about preempting military seizures of power. As Tanzanian president Benjamin Mkapa put it: “Sanctions signify the region’s newly-found determination to stop the militarization of politics. What we are pressing for is restoration of democracy and constitutional rule, through an unconditional negotiated settlement under the Mwanza peace process brokered by Mwalimu Julius Nyerere.”78 Sanctions had an immediate impact on the import-dependent energy sector, demonstrated by fuel rationing and limits on the supply of electricity. With

NYERERE MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1995–1999

125

most neighbors cutting vital transport links, landlocked Burundi’s foreign trade was crippled, notably coffee exports that accounted for 80 percent of foreign earnings and 40 percent of gross domestic product. The manufacturing sector was also severely affected, leading to some business closures. When, however, the embargo began to take a toll on humanitarian and relief efforts, pressure from NGOs and UN agencies forced the regional sanctions committee to exempt medicines and emergency basic food supplies to refugees and internally displaced persons. As part of these exemptions, the sanctions committee allowed a limited number of UN and humanitarian emergency ights and road access into Burundi.79 The coup and regional support demonstrated by sanctions simplied the domestic political equation as FRODEBU leaders, who previously had been ambivalent about guerrilla war rallied around the CNDD rebels. In the short-term, sanctions supporters claimed to have equalized the power balance, strengthened the rebel position, and weakened the military government’s legitimacy. In September 1996, the CNDD received a boost when FRODEBU called on Hutus to rally around the armed struggle: “From now on we are together with the CNDD. We are going to reinforce them because we have the same enemy – the Tutsi army.”80 The sanctions also placed the CNDD in the same camp as regional governments in their commitment to strangle the regime’s economic lifelines. Rebel attacks on economic infrastructures solidied the CNDD battleeld gains and bolstered its contribution in the implementation of economic sanctions by publicizing sanctions violation to the sanctions committee.81 The CNDD’s rising fortunes pushed the Tutsi civilians and military toward the Buyoya government. The region’s de facto recognition of the CNDD solidied the Tutsi perception that regional states such as Tanzania wanted to use sanctions to threaten their survival. Buyoya’s Foreign Minister, Luc Rukingama, complained that the embargo had resulted in “radicalizing the rebellion,” and placed the government in a bind: “paradoxically, pressure is being placed on those who were promoting dialogue, whereas no pressure is being placed on the armed groups who continue to kill innocent people. When history seeks to lay the blame on someone for the death and suffering in Burundi, we do not want our neighboring countries to whom we are so dearly attached to suffer that blame.”82 By encouraging regime opponents and de-legitimizing Hutu collaboration with the Buyoya regime, economic sanctions limited the government’s room for maneuver. As an indication of growing economic pressures, Buyoya sought Nyerere’s assistance in early September 1996 for a regional meeting to rescind the sanctions. But Nyerere reiterated that Hutu-Tutsi dialogue was the vital condition for cancellation of the sanctions: “Dialogue is more urgent because although political parties and parliament were in existence before the coup,

126

CHAPTER FOUR

the two communities made no effort at serious dialogue to resolve their differences. The leaders should now say let us talk. It is a terrible mistake to try solving the Burundi debacle militarily.”83 Following this meeting, Buyoya reinstated the National Assembly and repealed the ban on political parties but did not budge on the issue of unconditional negotiations. Calling for a review of sanctions, Buyoya told the region: “You wanted the parliament as it was, there it is. You wanted political parties. There they are . . . We are going to talk to armed groups, but we ask our partners not to dictate to us on how to do it, or when to do it.”84 Regional states described the reforms as inadequate, but to encourage more concessions, they exempted some goods from economic sanctions to enable Burundi to import agricultural seeds and fertilizer.85

Sanctions in Action Sanctions potentially are an instrument of political change. Studies of sanctions highlight problems of political capacity and cohesion by sanctioning states and the uncertain effects on targets states. Sanctioning states require political will and organization to sustain a sanction regime whose impact on target states is often long term, protracted, and ambiguous. In their dual nature, sanctions inict economic pain, but they might also elicit deance of critical constituencies in target states, thus nullifying the force of sanctions. The dilemma of sanctions is that their implementation and effectiveness require time, but time also affords target states sufcient latitude to circumvent them.86 In Eastern Africa, sanctions were a new foreign policy tool. Three factors cast doubt on the region’s ability to enforce sanctions. First, the states lacked the capacities to enforce the sanctions by sealing their porous borders. Over time, there was a proliferation of sanction-busting activities such as smuggling by groups that took advantage of the state’s inability to control their periphery. Second, parties involved in diverse relief and humanitarian work in Burundi, especially UN and NGOs, launched campaigns to discredit the sanctions regime.87 Third, there were limits to implementing regional sanctions without global political and economic support. Nyerere’s efforts, thus far, had thrived on an international consensus that counseled moderation and the restoration of a legitimate government. Economic sanctions did not elicit the kind of international support and concern that had marked Nyerere’s mediation. They were, instead, greeted with silence and, in some cases, derision, from major international actors.88 The overriding regional consensus for sanctions was that, given Burundi’s geopolitical vulnerability, the weight of the economic embargo would force

NYERERE MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1995–1999

127

the government to resume negotiations. This scenario envisaged sanctions as a catalyst for negotiations between Buyoya (who was relatively strong domestically, but weak at the regional level) and Nyangoma (who was weak domestically, but legitimized by sanctions). According to a Tanzanian ofcial, the premise was that economic sanctions as an alternative to Nyerere’s “peace enforcement,” offered the best “mechanism of diplomacy that could be used in a way that moved the parties toward the desired outcome. That is, rst, to get them to the negotiating table. Second, once they were at the negotiating table, to ensure that they conclude an agreement.”89 To the major regional actors, time was essential in the sanction’s calculus. Kenya’s Foreign Minister, Musyoka Kalonzo predicted that it “would take a month or two to put pressure on the government of Buyoya.” Similarly, Ethiopian Prime Minister Meles Zenawi said that “if the sanctions do not work soon enough, we will have to review the situation and apply even tougher measures.”90 What the region did not anticipate, however, was Buyoya’s staying power. In Buyoya’s calculation, if a besieged Burundi could withstand the force of sanctions in the short term, it would surmount them in the long term. Since sanctioning states had predicated sanctions on swift outcomes, the longer they lasted, the less effective they became. Over time, sanctions would engender regional fatigue and sanctions-busting. In the rst few months, sanctions had a deleterious impact on Burundi’s economy as Foreign Minister Rukingama acknowledged in October 1996. Estimating the total value of losses for the economy at $127 million, Rukingama noted a 30 per cent decline in the national production of food crops, a 10 per cent decline of industrial crop production, and a 30 per cent in the industrial sector. In addition, the economy faced a 40 per cent ination rate and a loss of 25 billion Burundi francs in the balance of payments.91 But apart from the limited political concessions of September 1996, economic sanctions had not translated into perceptible change on the government’s positions on negotiations. Instead, Buyoya used the limited political reforms in a diplomatic campaign to discredit the sanctions by questioning the motives of regional states. Toning down the deance and militancy that had marked his accession to power, Buyoya portrayed Burundi as the victim of one-sided sanctions that rewarded extremism and threatened to push the country to economic bankruptcy. Economic sanctions, he claimed, had ceased to be instruments of restoring constitutional order and had, instead, become measures of reducing the country to its knees. As part of this strategy, Buyoya held up his credentials as a moderate struggling against Hutu and Tutsi extremists.92 This argument found acceptance among Western countries and powerful NGOs, and UN agencies that had praised Buyoya as a force for stability and moderation. While regional

128

CHAPTER FOUR

states had dismissed Buyoya’s reforms as inadequate, the U.S. and EU described them as positive and signicant steps in the right direction.93 The upsurge of militancy among Tutsi power brokers intensied support for Buyoya. In October 1996, for instance, Tutsi militants threatened to withdraw their support for the government if Buyoya initiated talks with CNDD. UPRONA leader Mukasi warned that “a handshake between Major Buyoya and CNDD leader Leonard Nyangoma would mean political death for Buyoya.”94 To relieve the pressure on Buyoya, Western policy makers advocated an evenhanded policy toward parties to the conict. But since this policy departed from the dominant regional position on sanctions and collective pressure on the regime, the policy’s long-term consequence was to weaken Nyerere’s initiatives. In due course, Western attempts to nudge the region away from economic pressure in response to Buyoya’s reforms discredited the sanction’s regime and facilitated the collapse of regional solidarity for sanctions. In mid-October 1996, U.S. Secretary of State, Warren Christopher reiterated American support for regional sanctions and Nyerere’s mediation, but he proposed a review of sanctions in light of Buyoya’s concessions: The United States calls on both sides in the conict to suspend their hostilities and to begin all-party negotiations . . . Our responsibility is to press both sides to reach an agreement that allows all the people of Burundi to live together in a secure and democratic country. When we see progress, we must be ready to recognize it. Both sides have expressed a willingness to negotiate. Mr. Buyoya’s decision to reopen the National Assembly and to lift the ban on political parties is encouraging. The rebel groups must know that we expect them to choose dialogue as well. It is time for all sides to stop the killing and to start talking. With good faith on all sides and the continued engagement of a united region, we believe a peaceful settlement is attainable.95

Conscious of the U.S. pressure building on the sanctioning states, Buyoya made a tactical concession on the eve of the rst review of economic sanctions in Arusha in mid-October 1996 by promising to enter into negotiations with CNDD and other armed factions without preconditions. But regional states, suspicious of the timing of Buyoya’s assurances and oblivious to Western entreaties, declined to lift the economic blockade until negotiations had started. Tanzanian Foreign Minister, Jakaya Kikwete summarized their position: “regional leaders do not believe Mr. Buyoya has done enough to warrant the easing of the embargo.”96 Pointing to the exemptions granted to the Buyoya government, the Arusha summit held out the carrot of more exemptions if the government started negotiations under Nyerere’s leadership within one month. Responding to charges that sanctions were one-sided, the Arusha summit observed: “sanctions were not imposed for the benet of, or to the detriment of any group or faction. The imposition of sanctions was intended . . . to exert the necessary

NYERERE MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1995–1999

129

pressure in order to achieve the political objective of a negotiated and peaceful solution to the conict . . .”97 The regional stance was a victory for CNDD leaders, judging by the comments of its Tanzanian-based representative: “We want the negotiations to start, and we would like the countries which have maintained the sanctions to continue exerting pressure on Buyoya so that he can accept to start serious negotiations, and to lift the sanctions only when the negotiations will have reached an irreversible level. This means a cease-re. We have to reach an agreement on the cease-re and an international force comes to Burundi to make sure that the cease-re is respected.”98 To Buyoya’s extremist Tutsi opponents, the region’s failure to reverse sanctions justied their continued deance of external pressure. As a Tutsi extremist youth movement warned Buyoya: Instead of waging a decisive war against the nation’s enemies, you are initiating negotiations with them and kneeling down as if you were defeated. You will have difculty proving that the current government is not in collusion or complicity with Nyerere and/or Nyangoma. There has never been a sharing of the negotiating table with those who are internationally condemned as perpetrators of genocide. This has never happened anywhere. The only legitimate dialogue Burundians are asking is between Tutsis and moderate Hutus on sovereign and secure Burundian soil.99

Facing this threat and unable to end sanctions, Buyoya reversed his earlier offer for unconditional negotiations. “There would no negotiations,” he stated, “with the economic blockade in effect. The sanctions are illegal, unjust, and biased . . . We are predisposed and still determined to enter negotiations, but not in the framework of a blockade which has become a noose around the government’s neck.”100 Changes in the balance of power in Eastern Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) beginning in October 1996 added a new layer of complexity to the regional context of the Burundi conict, with far-reaching consequences on the implementation of sanctions. The onset of the military campaign by the anti-Mobutu coalition forces led by Laurent Kabila’s Alliance of Democratic Forces for the Liberation of Congo (ADFL) altered the CNDD’s operational fortunes. Congolese Tutsi and Rwandan troops spearheaded the invasion of Eastern Congo that began by overrunning camps housing more than a million Rwandan and Burundian Hutu refugees and rebel ghters. Throughout the ADLF’s seven-month struggle supported by Rwanda, Burundi, Uganda, and Angola, the Rwandan and Burundian Hutu refugees who obtained succor under Mobutu had to nd new homes.101 The war crippled the CNDD’s Congolese bases and forced the bulk of the rebels into Western Tanzania. In December 1996, the UN estimated that there were at least 160,000 Burundian refugees in camps in western Tanzania, with 60,000 of them returnees from Eastern

130

CHAPTER FOUR

Congo.102 When he came to power in May 1997, Kabila denounced sanctions against Burundi and sought to mend fences with Buyoya. Tanzanian Foreign Minister Jakaya Kikwete noted that the events in eastern Congo diminished the initiatives on Burundi. “The conict in Burundi,” he stated, “became a mere peanut after the struggle to topple Mobutu began. In the intervening period, Nyerere and the region as a whole lost the momentum on the Burundi peace initiative. This was a loss that was difcult to regain.”103 The focus on events in eastern Congo also allowed Buyoya to expand his anti-sanctions campaign, casting himself in the role of an underdog besieged by powerful neighbors. A Franco-African summit in Congo Brazzaville in December 1996 described the sanctions as “counterproductive” and called for their removal given the “steps taken by the Burundian government toward reestablishing democracy.”104 As his regime recaptured international legitimacy, Buyoya stressed the deleterious impact of sanctions on Burundi’s poor: “The embargo . . . is depriving the people of the basic necessities of life, such as food and medicine. Many people have died in hospitals due to lack of medication.”105 The contention that sanctions had a disproportionate effect on the poor and vulnerable groups was espoused more strongly by NGOs and UN relief agencies in a campaign that discredited sanctions. Despite exemptions geared to relief efforts, the embargo had hampered the operational ability of most international humanitarian organizations. As a result, these organizations supported the antisanctions campaign, in particular with evidence of the political elite’s ability to circumvent and prot from sanctions. As the head of the World Food Program’s (WFP) in Burundi noted: “We don’t see any positive political consequences of the sanctions. Thousands of people are jobless. Agriculture has decreased, and industrial production is down. But the government has managed to do what it wanted to do with or without sanctions.”106 Although sanctioning states sought to maintain a unanimous front on sanctions, there were doubts about this resolve. Contributing to the diminishing effect of sanctions were accounts of sanctions-busting, illustrated in reports of clandestine smuggling of commodities through Congo, Rwanda, Tanzania, and Zambia borders. In a letter to the sanction’s committee, the CNDD accused Rwanda of allowing goods in contravention of the ban and charged that Burundi had obtained arms and other crucial supplies with the help of countries outside the region.107 As breaches in the embargo widened, sanctioning states became lax in enforcement, transforming seepages into oodgates. With the proliferation of smuggling activities, strong regional business interests began to lobby for the end of sanctions.108

NYERERE MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1995–1999

131

Circumventing Nyerere? Regional states had perceived sanctions as tools to re-ignite Nyerere’s mediation and to compel Buyoya’s compliance. But Buyoya’s tenacity yielded psychological gains in the standoff on sanctions. Thus, when sanctions failed to deliver Buyoya to the negotiating table, Nyerere’s authority diminished, demonstrated by the concerted efforts to marginalize him. Burundian parties opposed to external intervention launched a search for alternative mediators, associating Nyerere with punitive sanctions and Tanzania’s support for Hutu rebels.109 In December 1996, Nyerere tried to resurrect the Mwanza negotiations but Buyoya wrecked the initiative by barring major opposition parties from leaving the country. In response, Nyerere invoked the conditions for lifting sanctions: “As soon as it is quite clear that they are willing to talk, to return to sanity, I will ask East African leaders about relaxing the sanctions. I don’t like sanctions at all, but without negotiations what do I replace them with?”110 The sanctions stalemate gave Buyoya some breathing space to reorganize the military and to consolidate his domestic political base. For instance, starting in January 1997, the government ordered a general mobilization of the population to contribute toward the war effort. Citing the impact of the embargo and the civil war, the government created a national solidarity fund in which all income-earners contributed a percentage of their monthly wages.111 Likewise, in an anti-insurgency move that began in November 1996, the government started a forcible “regroupment,” policy to remove and relocate peasants, mostly Hutus, into armed camps under military protection. Designed to curtail popular support for rebels, the regroupment camps hampered agricultural production and bred numerous maladies by limiting access to health care facilities.112 Domestic consolidation allowed the government to circumvent Nyerere’s mediation in two ways. First, by a national reconciliation, and second, by secret negotiations with the CNDD in Rome under the mediation of the Italian Catholic lay community, Sant’Egidio. In launching an internal debate in January 1997, Buyoya invited all political parties, except the CNDD, to a discussion to explore ways to end the political stalemate. Although boycotted by radical Tutsis and FRODEBU, the internal debate dovetailed with the views of those who saw Nyerere’s mediation as encroaching on Burundi’s sovereignty. Internal negotiations, Buyoya claimed, “would show the world that Burundi could solve its own problems without external interference and would help convince neighboring countries to remove sanctions.”113

132

CHAPTER FOUR

Western countries promoted the secret Sant’Egidio-mediated talks in Rome to break the ice between the government and CNDD. Since Nyerere’s prenegotiations had deadlocked on the CNDD’s role in peace talks, bringing the two protagonists together in Rome constituted a breakthrough in the government’s recognition of the CNDD. Sant’Egidio hoped that preliminary discussions between the two principal parties offered an opportunity for a frank exchange of views. Furthermore, it steered the negotiations toward a ceasere to build condence for all-party negotiations in the region that would deal with the fundamental political issues. Although the negotiations began in October 1996, they only made progress in March 1997 with a written agreement on a seven-point negotiating agenda that included the restoration of constitutional order; reforms in the security services; a suspension of hostilities; justice, including the setting up of an international criminal tribunal; incorporation of other parties into the talks; a cease-re; and guarantees on the mechanisms for implementing an agreement.114 But these hopes were soon dashed when, in the words of one participant, the “CNDD blew the whistle on the talks to embarrass Buyoya.”115 The Sant’Egidio talks could be understood as the convergence and supplementation of multiple efforts for the purpose of expediting the peace process. Yet for supplementary efforts to succeed, there is need for unity of purpose and sequencing of initiatives among intermediaries. Disagreements between Sant’Egidio and the Nyerere mediation team illustrated the difculties of expediting the peace process. Despite disclaimers that the Sant’Egidio process had not intended to undercut the Nyerere initiative, his associates charged that it had sought to circumvent sanctions and discredit Nyerere.116 A Western participant in the negotiations noted that Nyerere’s views on Sant’Egidio were part of the broader “regional paranoia” that Western envoys had to deal with: “The Nyerere team had a representative at the Sant’Egidio talks. We made the decision to focus on a ceasere before resuming political talks in Arusha with the agreement of the Nyerere folks. There was no attempt at all to undercut Nyerere, but Nyerere felt threatened by the Rome talks.”117 Rifts among regional states on the sanctions surfaced during the Sant’Egidio process, culminating in the fourth regional summit on Burundi in April 1997. In response to Western pressure, the Arusha participants concluded that the sanctions had made insufcient progress. The dilemma became what to replace them with in view of the absence of progress on all-party talks. Moi complained that sanctions appeared to be a “waste of time,” and, in a facesaving measure that would keep the region’s credibility intact, he suggested a four-month suspension of the economic embargo to give Buyoya time to work on reconciliation. Tanzania and Uganda, on the other hand, opposed lifting

NYERERE MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1995–1999

133

the economic sanctions until the start of Nyerere-led talks. In a compromise, regional leaders agreed to ease the sanctions by extending the range of goods exempted from the embargo to food, agricultural inputs, educational materials, medicines, and construction material. They further declared their readiness to suspend all sanctions, with the exception of the arms embargo, once the government had initiated dialogue and disbanded the “regroupment camps.”118 The easing of sanctions allowed Kenya and Eritrea to resume trade with Burundi. In the battle of wills over sanctions, Buyoya became even stronger, confounding his domestic critics and recapturing his diplomatic image. The relaxation of sanctions in the absence of a fundamental change in government position was a victory that Buyoya could use against foreign interveners, as he told the region: “our friends in the region, our friends in the international community, want peace in Burundi. However, we also note that the Heads of State, the mediator and others have no recipe to bring peace. This is a clear indication that peace in Burundi is our business.”119 In the words of a Western observer, “Buyoya played a weak hand very well during this period.”120 Western pressures to relax sanctions gradually whittled the international context of Nyerere’s leverage. This weakening of he sanctions regime made it difcult for Nyerere to claim that the region spoke with one voice on the Burundi conict. Critics charged that Nyerere’s views did not reect “a regional consensus” or the realities of Burundi conict, but rather they reected Tanzanian positions. According to one critic: “Nyerere had too many things going for him, but all this was frittered away when he wrapped himself around Tanzania, bringing Tanzania baggage to the mediation.”121 Contributing to Nyerere’s singular image as a Tanzanian was the deterioration of Tanzania-Burundi relations which were marked by armed clashes in mid-1997. The CNDD and other rebels used their new Tanzania sanctuaries for training and as a springboard for guerrilla attacks in Burundi, which prompted retaliatory pursuits into Tanzanian territory by the Burundian armed forces.122 Tanzania also allowed the CNDD to take over the Burundian embassy in Dar-es-Salaam in 1997, a move that boosted its diplomatic stature and put further pressure on Bujumbura. Relations further deteriorated when, at a midAugust 1997 ministerial sanction review in Kampala, Tanzania recommended maintaining sanctions pending the outcome of the all-party peace talks.123 After the Kampala meeting, Burundi’s Foreign Minister Rukingama, accused Nyerere of having inuenced the decision and charged that Tanzania’s “confusing behavior” constituted a threat to Burundi’s peace process: We hail the fact that nearly all the ministers attending the Kampala meeting supported the lifting of the sanctions . . . However, we regret that, for undeclared reasons, the Tanzanian delegation is trying to impose its views on other countries . . . We

134

CHAPTER FOUR

wish to inform the national and international community that obstinately seeking to uphold sanctions on the Burundian people amounts to irreversibly blocking the peace process, and encouraging extremists opposed to dialogue . . . Tanzania, having expelled our diplomats from our Dar es Salaam mission in favor of leaders of the armed rebellion, should rst solve that question . . . This is inconsistent with the role of mediation, because it is difcult to be both judge and interested party. It is difcult to tell our people that Tanzania wants to mediate in the peace talks, while at the same time imposing sanctions which cause hardships for our people. We would like to see Tanzania concentrating on mediation efforts. It can’t claim to be a mediator while allowing one party to operate on its soil. We want to see Tanzania facilitate talks, not set up more hurdles. Such duplicity obstructs the peace process. We demand that the facts be allowed to speak for themselves, and that a neutral commission verify and conrm these facts.124

Echoing this line, one of the leaders of smaller groups allied to UPRONA declared: “Tanzania is hostile territory for Burundi. It is Nyerere who is the author of sanctions against Burundi. It is he who is making the Burundi people die through these sanctions and, as a politician, I refuse to accept him as a mediator.”125 The conict’s escalation compromised Nyerere’s stature by diminishing his legitimacy and furnishing ammunition to opponents of his intervention.126 Accusations about Nyerere’s partisanship and proximity to the conict illustrate the quandary African mediators confront in inuencing negotiations. Through the imposition of sanctions, regional states crossed the threshold of bipartisanship in the search for a stalemate that would restore constitutional rule through Nyerere’s mediation. Sanctions transformed regional states into biased mediators, interposing themselves in the conict with clearly dened interests and outcomes. Despite the weakening of sanctions, they retained the symbolic value of the region’s partisanship in the conict. Yet, when the Tanzania-Burundi conict overshadowed the regional dimension of Nyerere’s power, Buyoya and his allies could dene the conict in terms of Tanzania’s partisanship. African mediators are not just discredited by powerful external actors, as the Sant’Egidio process demonstrated. They also face pressures from NGOs whose humanitarian concerns and grassroots activism in civil conicts often compete with conict resolution at national levels. When African mediators and interveners interrupt these objectives, NGOs can become crucial actors in discrediting their roles. Endowed with the expertise and networks, NGOs forge intricate links with parties to conicts that put them in strategic positions to inuence outcomes. In a crowded peace-making environment such as Burundi, the diversity of actors and goals belies intermediary coordination, masking many turf wars. Coordinating the efforts of multiple actors such as NGOs

NYERERE MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1995–1999

135

is a difcult task that is often compounded by their competing motives and different access to pertinent parties. As Hara suggests, while NGOs have the potential to play positive roles in spurring dialogue, “their sheer number, their sometime diverging institutional agendas, and their various denitions of the problem risk fragmenting and therefore hindering international response.”127 The campaign of humanitarian organizations against sanctions shows one angle of the tension between local mediators and inuential external interveners. Equally vital is the role of NGO-based consultants in inuencing the course of the negotiations. For instance, on the eve of abortive talks in August 1997, Jan van Eck, a South African consultant and one of the many NGO-based peace-builders in Burundi, claimed that it was a “small miracle” that Buyoya’s government and the majority of the Tutsi establishment “have bitten the bullet and are seriously heading for the round-table negotiations at Arusha.” He further observed: However hard the Tutsi establishment may have worked at overcoming its opposition to the negotiations, it now has to cope with a process which is totally loaded against them. The mediator in charge of the Arusha process, former Tanzanian President Nyerere, is not neutral. He and some of his key advisors have consistently and publicly taken sides against the Tutsi establishment . . . Neither is the town of Arusha in Tanzania, where the negotiations will take place, a neutral venue. Tanzania has openly taken sides against the Tutsi establishment by: initiating and being instrumental in maintaining the punitive 14-month long economic blockade against Burundi . . . In fact, the partisanship nature of both the mediator (Nyerere) and the venue (Tanzania) has been the heaviest stick the anti-negotiations lobby in Burundi have had at their disposal to mobilize populist support for their rejection of negotiations. While the majority Hutu parties go to Arusha knowing that both the mediator and the country are ‘batting for them,’ the Tutsi minority quite correctly feels that it is entering ‘enemy’ territory. With former President Nyerere, President Mkapa and the Tanzanian parliament all having expressed their anti-Buyoya and anti-Tutsi sentiments, the Burundian (Tutsi) delegation knows their presence at Arusha will not be welcome. If this is not breaking all the rules of mediation, what does?128

Likening the Burundi peace process to a sick patient, van Eck chided the international community for showing more concern for Nyerere’s welfare: “When a patient is seriously ill, people are normally (and correctly) more concerned about the welfare of the patient than that of the doctor. In this case, where Burundi is the patient (a very sick one), the international community seems to be more concerned about the doctor (Nyerere) – and whether they will hurt his feelings by asking him to make place for a more nonpartisan doctor – than about the patient (Burundi and its longsuffering people). If this is not a travesty of justice, what is?”129 He concluded by predicting the collapse of the talks:

136

CHAPTER FOUR

Having battled for more than a year to convince its own support-base to enter the negotiations process, the Tutsi establishment is now faced with a process so biased against them that those participating-against the wishes of their more hard line colleagues feel that they have already ‘lost.’ As things stand now, the Arusha process is unlikely to ‘succeed.’ . . . Why should Burundians, who already suffer from a massive lack of trust in one another, have to take part in a negotiation process in which a signicant sector has no trust? If the multi-party negotiations in Arusha fail, it will not be because the Burundian parties – including the Tutsi minority – reject negotiations, but because the process is fatally awed. And those who will pay the price for this failure will not be the foreign mediators and politicians, who will go back to their safe homes once the ‘cookie crumbles,’ but ordinary Burundian civilians!130

The August 25 all-party talks collapsed when Bujumbura extremists prevented a Hutu delegation from leaving the country. Subsequently, Buyoya proposed a November 1997 date for peace talks, but with a condition that that they be held in Addis Ababa, Harare, Lusaka, or Pretoria. Furthermore, he suggested the enlargement of the mediation to include personalities from other countries. As a government spokesman asserted: “Jimmy Carter, Amadou Toumani Toure from Mali, President Mandela, Omar Bongo, these are all competent mediators around the world and in Africa who can help Burundi to nd a solution to its crisis. Nyerere has no solution to offer the people of Burundi because Tanzania is pursuing the same policy which is at the root of the continuing instability in Burundi.”131 With the mediation under siege, Nyerere in what a Western observer depicted as “masterful manipulation,” offered to resign if regional states decided that his efforts were impeding the process.132 A consultative meeting of regional heads of state and western representatives in Dar es Salaam in early September 1997 contemplated Nyerere’s offer. They realized that jettisoning him would rupture the precarious regional consensus about how to resolve the Burundi problem. In the end, regional leaders reafrmed Nyerere’s mandate, maintained the sanctions, and created a special secretariat of representatives from participating countries to assist the regional sanction’s committee to monitor their compliance.133

Breaking the Stalemate: Nyerere’s Recaptures the Initiative The long stalemate gave the Buyoya government and regional states the opportunity to assess their positions on Nyerere’s contribution to the peace process. Obdurate regional leaders determined to underscore their centrality to a negotiated outcome had frustrated Buyoya’s relentless quest for an alternative to Nyerere. Although the effect of sanctions had declined, the decision by the

NYERERE MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1995–1999

137

region to maintain sanctions stood paradoxically as the most powerful symbol of Burundi’s isolation. In the same vein, the Tanzania-Burundi conict had dented Nyerere’s access to the Bujumbura government but without diminishing his stature and standing. In the face of organized endeavors to remove him from the mediation, Nyerere persisted partly because the region’s credibility was tied to his mission.134 For Buyoya, the search for a “neutral” mediator and venue outside the region had not led to any breakthrough. Instead, it seemed to be exacerbating already strained relations with his neighbors. Moreover, there was increasing recognition that if the ultimate objective was to remove the embargo and to restore Burundi’s regional respectability, continued alienation of major actors was not a prudent policy. At the same time, while Buyoya had embarked on an internal peace process partly to undercut the Arusha talks, the civil war continued. A four-pronged assault by about 1,000 Hutu rebels on Bujumbura airport on January 1, 1998 killed at least 274 people. The size, sophistication and location of the attack signaled the CNDD’s ability to sustain military pressure on the government.135 The escalating war and the absence of an alternative to Nyerere contributed to the momentum for the resumption of talks in early 1998. Furthermore, there were renewed pressures on regional states to lift the economic sanctions. Regional commercial interests spearheaded these efforts by decrying the loss of Burundian markets to foreign competition.136 A review by the UN’s Department of Humanitarian Affairs concluded that sanctions had failed to block goods and had complicated humanitarian work. In a scathing indictment of Nyerere, the report concluded: “The sanctions regime has now become impractical. It is maintained only to sustain the inuence of Mr. Nyerere. Unless there is a new scheme for the peace process in Burundi under which effective pressure could be imposed on Burundi for an effective result, the sanctions will continue to dilute themselves until regional parties have the courage of lifting the sanctions.”137 As a result of these pressures, the regional ministerial sanctions committee proposed suspending the embargo in February 1998, but a subsequent heads of state meeting in Kampala overruled this decision. Tanzania and Uganda defeated moves by the rest of the region to lift sanctions pending progress on national reconciliation.138 Buoyed by growing regional acrimony on sanctions, Buyoya visited Paris in March 1998, and received French endorsement for lifting the embargo. Buyoya remarked: “The states of the subregion, when they decided on the embargo, did not think Burundi’s economy could survive for more than three months. It is true that our level of economic performance has fallen. The state lost billions of dollars in a fuel-for-coffee deal which worked against us,

138

CHAPTER FOUR

and the people are becoming impoverished. Nevertheless, the state continues to operate. We are still paying our civil servants, our judges, and our teachers. Burundi will not crack, and some of the people who were responsible for the embargo are starting to think again.”139 Lemarchand recently has argued that the divisive debates about economic sanctions fueled partly by the parties and stakes in Burundi’s conict concealed the critical role of the sanctions in restarting the Arusha talks: This initiative [economic sanctions], forcefully supported by Nyerere, came in for the strongest criticisms from a number of NGOs, including the International Crisis Group, as well as from virtually all the special envoys. Aside from creating confusion about the role and efcacy of the international community, critics of the boycott argued that it penalized mostly the rural masses, did little to prevent continuing transactions with neighboring countries, and in the end encouraged radical Hutu factions to make political capital out of the boycott. Yet seen from another perspective, it is entirely conceivable that Buyoya might not have agreed to a signicant political overture (notably the reopening of the National Assembly and the readmission of opposition parties in the political arena) in the absence of such sanctions.140

The upsurge of internal conicts among the principal Hutu opponents of the government, CNDD and FRODEBU, also contributed to the resumption of peace talks. Since Buyoya’s coup, a modicum of solidarity between the Hutu internal political and external military wings, had energized regional pressure for the restoration of constitutional rule. With the fraying of Hutu solidarity, however, Buyoya’s position became stronger, affording him more domestic room for maneuver. In May 1998, there was a split in the CNDD when a commander of its armed forces, the FDD, Jean-Bosco Ndayikengurukiye, ousted Leonard Nyangoma and created a new movement, the CNDD-FDD. Another split occurred in FRODEBU when Buyoya enticed its internal wing into power-sharing negotiations. Buyoya also restored the National Assembly and freed its speaker of Leonce Ngendakumana.141 Taking advantage of the impending expiry of parliament’s mandate in June 1998, Buyoya started talks with some parliamentarians on writing a transitional constitution. On June 6, 1998, both sides agreed on a transitional constitution that combined the 1992 constitution and the laws decreed by Buyoya after the July 1996 coup. It recognized Buyoya as president, created two vice-presidential positions, and increased parliamentary seats from 81 to 121 by appointing neutral representatives from nongovernmental organizations.142 For Buyoya, the new partnership was an unprecedented opportunity to reduce tensions, consolidate support in the army, and legitimize the internal peace process that regional states had condemned. It also vindicated his strategy of building an internal consensus prior to returning to Nyerere’s mediated talks: “Our prime mission

NYERERE MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1995–1999

139

is to strengthen the process of restoring peace and security as well as ensure economic recovery. Peace in Burundi should be a priority issue that would be carefully debated so that the international community does not impose fake peace arrangements on us.”143 Western donors, who funded Nyerere’s initiatives, played a critical role in restarting the negotiations. Concerned that the Tanzania-Burundi acrimony was overshadowing efforts to end Burundi’s civil war, various donors prodded the parties to take advantage of the positive political developments.144 Likewise, Nyerere was sensitive to the dangers of alienating powerful international supporters of the peace initiatives through a continued standoff. Resource-starved African mediators depended on foreign donors can hardly claim autonomy from donor pressures, particularly when their efforts rely on international legitimacy and credibility.145 The conuence of these pressures forced a compromise that allowed the region and Buyoya to save face. For regional actors, Burundi’s efforts to remove Nyerere had failed, while for Buyoya, the internal partnership with Hutu parliamentarians had invigorated his domestic position and garnered him regional respectability. In preliminary consultations with major Burundi parties in Dar es Salaam in May 1998, Nyerere received assurance that they would resume the Arusha negotiations without preconditions. The political partnership and intra-Hutu splits presented two challenges to Nyerere. First, he had to convince FRODEBU’s external wing to return to the negotiating table and then decide on the faction that would represent the CNDD in Arusha. Nyerere urged the exile groups to postpone judgment on Buyoya’s reforms, contending that “The exiled groups do not have to endorse the reforms at this moment, because they don’t know them. They will have an opportunity to discuss them in Arusha where they will be unveiled by their compatriots.”146 On CNDD’s representation, Nyerere endorsed Nyangoma’s leadership to the chagrin of Ndayikengurukiye’s CNDD-FDD. Nineteen delegations from Burundi, 17 from political parties and 2 from the government and National Assembly, participated in the resumed Arusha talks from June 15, 1998.147 Despite government pleas for lifting economic sanctions, Tanzanian President Mkapa afrmed that “sanctions cannot, and must not, be lifted prematurely. We do not want to take the wind out of the negotiating process. I believe the sanctions regime contributed quite signicantly to ensuring that these peace talks are relaunched.”148 In separate consultations with leaders of all the parties, Nyerere tried to reach a consensus on the agenda and a timetable for the negotiations. A week of consultations produced an agreement whereby the parties pledged to resolve the conict through serious negotiations. The parties agreed on a three-tiered strategy. First, there would

140

CHAPTER FOUR

be informal consultations between the mediator and the parties. Second, the negotiations would be broken into ve committees to deal with the nature of the conict; democracy and good governance; peace and security; reconstruction and economic development; transitional institutions and the implementation of the nal agreement. Chaired by eminent people, the committees would produce draft agreements on specic questions. Third, there would be plenary sessions that would include all participants. Constituting the “highest forum of the negotiations and decision-making body,” the sessions would approve the negotiation agenda, allocate tasks to the committees, and consider proposals and recommendations from the committees.149 Although the parties agreed that all armed factions should suspend hostilities before the resumption of negotiations in July 1998, the government distanced itself from the cease-re agreement. Contesting the wording of the text that equated the Burundian army to “armed factions,” the Minister for the Peace Process, Ambroise Niyonsaba said: “the Burundian security forces do not constitute an armed party to the conict. The government, at this stage, is not affected by the suspension of hostilities and must continue to enforce law and order, and defend the population. The cease-re is nothing more than an empty slogan and is not grounded in reality.”150 The CNDD-FDD also disavowed the cease-re.

Committees Mediate The formation of mediation committees sought to disentangle the intricate issues in the conict, build mutual trust, and improve communication. Given the nineteen parties in Arusha and the mutual hostilities among them, the committees seemed to be the most realistic mode of concession making and condence-building. The organizers hoped that the equal representation of parties on each of the ve committees would reduce the dominance of larger parties. The designation of leading international personalities to chair the committees was signicant in altering the structure of the mediation. At one level, it moved the negotiations in the direction of professional competence, a view suggested by a Burundian minister: We have not been against Mwalimu Nyerere. What we have been asking for all along is better preparation and organization of these meetings. It has been a problem of management, poor technical preparation. We hope that committees and co-mediators will be better at preparing the agenda and steering the peace process. Nobody likes to be surprised by being confronted with unexpected issues on which

NYERERE MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1995–1999

141

he has not had a chance to consult with colleagues. With greater transparency in preparing the agenda, more can be achieved.151

More important, the committees lent a multilateral stature to the mediation by neutralizing what Nyerere’s critics claimed was his draconian control of the peace process. A meeting between Nyerere and Western Special Envoys, Howard Wolpe from the U.S. and Aldo Ajello from the E.U, on June 18, 1998 highlighted donor concerns about sanctions and Nyerere’s conduct of the negotiations. The donors pressed for the suspension of sanctions and suggested that if the talks did not make progress, they could be reimposed. When Nyerere accused western envoys of launching a campaign for lifting sanctions to undermine the region’s leverage on Buyoya, the envoys raised questions about Tanzania’s leadership of the negotiations, as indicated in an EU report: The acrimonious exchange between the Special Envoys/representatives and the facilitator on the issue of sanctions also raises a more general question on the relationship between the facilitator and Special Envoys/representatives of the international community and the support of the international community for the Arusha process. At the meeting of 18 June, the Special Envoys/representatives had the clear impression that any divergence of opinion with the facilitator was immediately imbued with the connotations of a North-South confrontation. The dominance of Tanzanian nationals in the facilitator’s staff, a factor which, according to representatives of other countries of the region present at Arusha, is now also of concern to those countries, does not help to dispel this impression. The unanimous view of the Special Envoys/representatives present in Arusha was that it would be useful for international partners, and particularly those who have funded the process up to now, to go into the next round with a clearer understanding among themselves of the kinds of benchmarks to the facilitator, both in political terms and in terms of organization of the talks, particularly the identication of Chairmen of working committees.152

The International Crisis Group echoed the views of Special Envoys: “The strong presence of Tanzanian government ofcials within Nyerere’s team has made many Burundians feel uneasy. As soon as committees are constituted, genuine experts should be added to the mediation team; both technical experts and experts in carrying out mediation and negotiation. The quality and neutrality of the mediation process are essential for giving condence to all the parties in the conict.”153 During the second session of the talks in July 1998, Nyerere began consultations with the parties and Western envoys on suitable candidates for chairs of the committees. With most parties opposed to regional candidates, a consensus coalesced around European, Canadian, and Southern African chairs. Thus, the parties agreed on Armando Guebuza, President of Mozambique’s ruling FRELIMO party, to chair the rst committee on the nature of the conict;

142

CHAPTER FOUR

Nicholas Haysom, former counsel to Nelson Mandela, the second committee on democracy and good governance; Father Mateo Zuppi of the Sant’Egidio community, the third committee on peace and security; and Georg Lennkh, head of Austria’s Economic Aid Program, the fourth committee on reconstruction and development.154 The second session also allowed the parties to start plenary deliberations under Nyerere’s watch. The plenaries gave representatives of each of the parties a chance to present their positions in the presence of international observers. In ve days of presentations on the nature of the conict, the parties debated the origins and characteristics of the Burundi crisis and offered prescriptions to restore peace. Although time-consuming, the sessions improved the negotiating climate, as one observer noted: “Whilst important to realize the limitations of such debate (in practice each party put on a show for the audience and interpreted history in the way most convenient to justify their position) it helped to diffuse tensions and build up a relaxed atmosphere and a political momentum.”155 The formation of the rst three committees did not occur until the third round in October 1998, but they did not begin serious negotiations until midDecember 1998. Nyerere then announced a timetable that envisaged the fourth round in January, the fth in April, the sixth in June, concluding with the last round in August 1999.156 Weighing heavily on the negotiations toward the end of 1998 was the resurgence of the DRC war pitting the Kabila government against his former allies in Burundi, Rwanda, and Uganda. Reinforcing regional ethnic alliances, the DRC conict added a new layer of complexity to Burundi’s conict as Buyoya and the CNDD took different sides in the war. The regional power realignment owing from DRC affected the sanctions regime that was already tottering from lax implementation and concerted international condemnation. Uganda, previously adamant about sanctions began to relent as the Buyoya government was rehabilitated as a valuable ally in the DRC. Thus, in January 1999, a regional summit suspended sanctions following the decision by multilateral donors to provide US$17.2 million in development assistance to Burundi. During the regional summit, Museveni underscored the convergence of interest with Buyoya, warning that the “the region has the means to isolate the extremists and would never allow them to put a veto on negotiations.”157 The easing of the embargo provided relief to Burundi, further boosting Buyoya’s domestic and international legitimacy. Suspending sanctions, however, did not hasten the talks as Nyerere and his team had anticipated. By the end of the fourth round in January 1999, while the plenary sessions had deliberated on the broader facets of Burundi’s conict, none of the three committees

NYERERE MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1995–1999

143

had made any progress on concrete proposals. With representatives of the eighteen factions submitting lengthy papers in the committees, doubts began to emerge about the utility of this method in expediting the negotiations. A process that most participants and observers previously had hailed as all-inclusive and democratic came under challenge for its expense and slowness. The plenary sessions that proponents had lauded for fostering frank dialogue now appeared to be gravitating toward what an observer described as “the most public negotiating process where the multiplicity of parties precluded any of them from taking decisions and responsibilities.”158 Compounding the multiplicity of parties at the negotiating table was the attitude of most of the delegates toward the negotiations, as a report of the mediation team noted: Concern has been raised about certain unhealthy trends that have been unfolding during the peace negotiations right from the rst session in June 1998. These are: laxity, lack of seriousness, and a rather laissez-faire attitude of the parties to the negotiations. Many did not appear to have come to Arusha with the seriousness of achieving any of the stated objectives. On the contrary, most are not fully engaged; they are seen moving around doing nothing tangible. Most of the parties do not seem to be active and full participants in the negotiations because most of their members are aloof and divorced from the main scene of the negotiations.159

The report, however, acknowledged that part of the problem stemmed from “the failure and inability of the Facilitator’s negotiating team, to lay down, prepare, and work out explicit procedures, schedules, systems and time frames for the conduct of the peace negotiations which all the parties would be expected to adhere to.”160 At the end of the January plenary talks, Nyerere asked the committees to complete their negotiations and draft an agreement by June 1999. He warned that donors, who had already paid more than $1.5 million to fund the talks, did not have the patience or bottomless pockets to fund “an open-ended exercise that will go into the 21st century . . . If you want to drag the process and take longer to reach the conclusion, that is up to you, but you are going to fund the talks with beans and not real money . . . If we are serious we should come up with a solution by June.”161 Despite this deadline, by March 1999, there had not been substantial negotiations in committees since most discussions focused on technicalities such as setting the agenda and xing priorities. The problem lay, as Burundi’s Minister for the Peace Process, Ambroise Niyonsaba stated, on the negotiating methodology: An agreement could be reached before the end of the year, as the government wishes, if working methods could be improved slightly . . . The slow progress of the talks is an organizational problem. Eighteen parties have been asked to negotiate

144

CHAPTER FOUR

directly during proceedings of the committees, this does not make it is easy . . . It should be up to the mediators to nd a more suitable methodology, and propose possible compromises in problem areas. They should seek to hone down the issues rather than letting delegates debate issues endlessly.162

To speed the talks, the government proposed striking deals among the key parties, a suggestion that smaller parties resisted because it would have marginalized them from the deliberations.163 The major stumbling block in Arusha was the Burundian government’s refusal to engage in negotiations because of the absence of the CNDD-FDD from the peace talks. Having recognized Nyangoma’s faction, Nyerere opposed the seating of the CNDD-FDD. Despite Nyerere’s support, the split in the Hutu movement had shifted the balance of military power toward Ndayikengurukiye’s faction. With the intensication of the CNDD-FDD’s military campaign, Buyoya supported its inclusion in the peace talks. In March 1999, the peace and security committee proposed separate representation for Ndayikengurukiye’s faction to facilitate discussions on a cease-re, but Nyerere placed conditions on his participation: he could participate as an individual, “replace” Nyangoma as a representative of the CNDD, or form his own party. The battle over the CNDD-FDD’s inclusion placed Nyerere in a position of defending what many regarded as a unilateral decision. It also revived charges of Tanzania’s partiality toward Hutus and Nyerere’s heavy-handedness. Mediating a crowded and inclusive negotiating process comprising a motley collection of small parties contrasted with Nyerere’s claim that he would not accept fragmentation in parties.164 As a result, a unique combination of circumstances contributed to the stalemate: the CNDD-FDD, strong enough to demand representation at the table; the Buyoya government, reluctant to negotiate a ceasere without the CNDD-FDD; and Nyerere’s fear of alienating the Nyangoma faction that had threatened to boycott the talks. Worsening the mediator’s woes was that in failing to engage Ndayikengurukiye and thus crippling meaningful negotiations on a cease-re, he invited criticisms from Buyoya and his allies for prolonging the war. Not since the height of the Burundi-Tanzania conict had Buyoya found a tool to embarrass the mediator. The committee talks took a turn in May 1999, when exiled Hutu parties met separately in Moshi, Tanzania, to decide on common negotiating positions. This meeting precipitated the emergence of three groups in the nineteen parties: the Moshi Group (also called the Group of Seven), of predominantly Hutu opposition parties; the Group of Eight, representing small, mainly Tutsi parties; and the Partnership Group, made up of representatives of the government, UPRONA party, and the National Assembly. The tripartite division claried the alliances in the negotiations, promising to create solid and homogenous blocs that would shape the content and direction of the talks.

NYERERE MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1995–1999

145

With the committees unable to draft an agreement by the June 1999 deadline, the government and its partners announced a ten-year transition plan based on “democracy by consensus.” It provided for an executive with a president, assisted by two vice-presidents from both ethnic groups. During the ten-year transition period, Buyoya would be president for ve years and then hand over power to a Hutu for the last ve years. At the legislative level, the plan proposed broadening the National Assembly to accommodate all parties in the Arusha talks and establishing a senate which would be “ethnically and regionally balanced.” On reforms in the security forces, the proposal suggested the integration of the gendarmerie and the army into a single body that would guarantee the security of all groups and the creation of a communal police force. Buyoya’s representatives at Arusha touted the plan as a more realistic framework inspired by the internal partnership. As one of its allies noted, the agreement by the internal partnership had addressed almost everything that was being discussed by the parties in Arusha: “The remaining issues such as the nature of the conict, good governance, peace and security, economic construction and the composition of the army are very sensitive issues that need to be debated as part of an internal process.” The smaller parties rejected these proposals because they believed they would undermine the Arusha negotiations.165 The convention of the much-delayed fth round in mid-July 1999 occurred against the backdrop of a stalemate in committee negotiations and renewed government demands for FDD’s representation and exclusion of smaller parties. As the logjam in committees continued, the mediator set October 1999 as the new deadline for producing a draft document. Ending the acrimonious session, Nyerere blamed the Buyoya government for impeding the negotiations and berated the delegates for “wasting time, money and hope”: I don’t want someone to say that I’m responsible for the stalemate . . . I would be less than honest if I did not express deep dissatisfaction about the work that has been done in the last two weeks . . . We have wasted these last two weeks. You have been extremely productive, but productive in producing communiqués, press releases full of insults to one another, and the atmosphere for negotiations has been completely soured. In most committees, no work has been done, because some members have simply decided to block any kind of progress.166

He also rejected the accusations that he had not invited Ndayikengurukiye: The impression given is that everyone wants Jean-Bosco to come and that the only problem is Mwalimu, but you know this is a lie. We have agreed on the rules of procedure and the determination of who takes part in these negotiations is in accordance with those rules. Jean-Bosco represents a breakaway group from the CNDD, which is a party to these negotiations . . . I have made all possible suggestions to enable the FDD leader to come to Arusha, but either he does not want to

146

CHAPTER FOUR

come, or the Bujumbura government is preventing him from attending. He may be saying why go to Arusha where I will become delegate number 19 and cease to be important. I have been trying to facilitate Jean-Bosco coming here, but all the suggestions have been rejected. Rejected by whom? Not by Jean-Bosco but by the government of Burundi. And yet every time we meet they say ‘Mwalimu you must invite him’.167

Nyerere promised to engage the FDD in “proximity” talks, but beginning in July 1999, the latter launched new attacks in Bujumbura’s neighborhoods. In August 1999, the rebels burned homes and killed 58 civilians during overnight raids in Bujumbura, forcing the army to start rearming Tutsi civilian militias.168 At the same time, Ndayikengurukiye proposed talks with Buyoya outside the Arusha framework, noting that any peace pact signed in Arusha would not be binding to the FDD: “Only bilateral talks with the government will lead to a meaningful settlement of the question of the defense forces and security and that of an end to hostilities.”169 The upsurge in ghting coupled with Nyerere’s illness clouded committee negotiations in mid-September 1999 under the leadership of Mark Bomani, a Tanzanian judge. Before reconvening in Arusha, the Nyerere mediation team launched a new initiative by inviting six major political parties, the government, the National Assembly, the pro-Tutsi UPRONA and PARENA, and the pro-Hutu FRODEBU and CNDD. Responding to the government’s criticisms about the number of parties in the Arusha talks, the Dar es Salaam meeting tried to reduce the differences that had been hampering negotiations such as establishing the parameters for a cease-re, a transition government, and the army’s composition. The Dar es Salaam meeting constituted a second channel for dialogue supplementary to the Arusha talks, a point that was not lost to smaller parties which complained of exclusion. Despite threats to boycott the talks, the committee negotiations in September 1999 made progress on some issues. As the former president Bagaza observed: “The fact that we are now discussing the basis of working documents means the real negotiations have started . . . Before, we were mostly discussing procedural issues. What is important is that we are now talking about the heart of the matters at stake.”170 The rst committee on the nature of the conict agreed on the need for an international inquiry into past massacres and human rights abuses, and a national truth and reconciliation commission. Likewise, the fourth committee on economic reconstruction and development completed its agenda. However, haggling in the second and third committees overshadowed efforts to negotiate a future electoral system and reforms in the army. While there was a consensus on democracy, the negotiators in the second committee were split between Hutu parties demanding “one man one vote,”

NYERERE MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1995–1999

147

and Tutsi party demands for a form of indirect suffrage that would guarantee them signicant representation in national institutions. Furthermore, there were divisions about the leadership of transitional institutions, with Hutus and some Tutsi parties urging Buyoya to relinquish power while his supporters wanted him to remain in charge. In the third committee on peace and security, Hutu parties pressed for a separation of the army and police force, with the latter being attached to the Interior Ministry instead of the prevailing system where they both fell under the Ministry of Defense. In light of accusations about the complicity of Tutsi security forces in atrocities against civilians, Hutu parties insisted on this separation, as one of its delegates remarked: “We want to remove the army’s responsibility for maintaining public order on a day-to-day basis. We want the military police to be scrapped, and instead a special force which would look after civil policing. The army should return to barracks and take care of its business of defending national borders.” The government and Tutsi parties, however, insisted on maintaining the status quo, noting that separation between the two forces would breed disorder.171 Hoping to build on the momentum in the negotiations, the Nyerere team organized another session of the six key parties in Dar es Salaam in early October ahead of the nal round of talks. The belated recognition that the Dar es Salaam consultations had eased concession-making in Arusha forced the mediators to devote their energies to their fruition. Through these consultations, the mediators also began to gradually build bridges with Ndayikengurukiye’s faction through intermediaries. Nyerere’s death on October 14, 1999 halted these efforts.172

Conclusion: Assessing Nyerere’s Mediation The mixed evaluations of Nyerere’s stewardship of the Burundian peace process highlight conicting perspectives on the ability of African elder statesmen to mediate civil conicts. Regional leaders meeting to choose a new mediator hailed Nyerere’s “deep and vast knowledge of the problem, his unique qualities as a leader, his wisdom and intellect, and his great stature within the region.” Furthermore, they emphasized his commitment to an “all inclusive array of political and civic forces to hammer out and mold a framework for durable peace, stability, and security for all in Burundi.”173 In contrast, analyst Gerald Prunier, in a paper circulated in Bujumbura, charged that Nyerere lacked the historical expertise and diplomatic nesse to mediate.174 Southall and Bentley also capture some of the contrasting perspectives of Nyerere:

148

CHAPTER FOUR

Although he was brought into the picture by the OAU because of his immense international stature, from the beginning he faced the disadvantage that he was deemed to be pro-Hutu by many Tutsi parties; similarly, it was difcult to disassociate himself from the Tanzanian government, whose motives were also deemed to be suspect. He is also described in some quarters as being too much of a listener, perhaps lacking the toughness needed to push the conicting parties toward an agreement; whilst in other quarters he is described as having been too forceful in having pushed a pro-Hutu agenda.175

These conicting views illuminate the multiple expectations and demands surrounding the roles of elder statesmen in mediation, with regard to their ability to muster leverage for effective intervention. Elder statesmen as mediators straddle the informal and formal diplomatic domains, drawing strengths and weaknesses from both. Thrust into difcult roles of problem-solvers, these mediators are expected to innovate, to use their imagination and creativity against the backdrop of limited leverage and authority. They are expected to be authoritative third parties, exerting inuence on recalcitrant parties, reducing their differences, and proffering new approaches to successful agreements. Like mediators elsewhere, their leverage derives from the mediator’s resources to compel compliance or promise rewards or penalties to disputants and the disputants’ acceptance of outsiders to participate in their conict.176 In ideal contexts, both forms of power work in tandem as powerful external actors intervene to prod parties to resolve their conict. In Africa, where there are meager tangible sources of leverage, most mediators rely on the power that accrues from the triangular negotiating relationship. But elder statesmen confront a dilemma. They are expected to have leverage and resources, but because of their dependence on external pressures and resources for their intervention capacity, they often have tenuous control of mediation efforts. Since these resources can be withdrawn at will, elder statesmen operate in constrained scopes of responsibility, hence their boldness, creativity, and wisdom hardly can overcome the enormous difculties that may obstruct the negotiations. As informal actors, elder statesmen supposedly have more organizational latitude in civil contests that require the commitment and mettle that sitting statesmen are not able to muster. Yet their reliance on state actors for pressures such as sanctions compromises their ability to intervene as independent actors, exposing them to charges of partiality, as illustrated by how the Buyoya government perceived the Nyerere mediation. In six years of involvement in Burundi, Nyerere successfully managed the competing claims that the national, regional, and international actors imposed on his mediation. Persistence in the belief for regionally-organized negotiations paid off despite the Burundi government’s opposition. The nineteen Burundian parties congregating in Arusha under an African, but equally multilateral

NYERERE MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1995–1999

149

mediation process, exemplied Nyerere’s persistence and tenacity. But along the way, Nyerere made compromises that reected the limits of his leverage and the multiplicity of parties that also had signicant roles in shaping the course of Burundi’s peacemaking.

Notes 1. Adonia Ayebare, “Uganda Legislators Say Rebels Using Tanzania,” The East African, December 30, 1997. 2. “Burundi: Buyoya Says Ethnic Reconciliation Possible in Burundi,” FBIS-Afr-98–272, September 29, 1998. 3. Dayle E. Spencer and Hinggang Yang, “Lessons from the Field of Intra-National Conict Resolution,” Notre Dame Law Review, vol. 67, no. 5, 1992, p. 1495. See also the discussion of cultural approaches in Hizkias Assefa, “The Challenge of Mediation of Internal Wars: Reections on the INN Experience in the Ethiopian/Eritrean Conict,” Security Dialogue, vol. 23, no. 3, 1992, pp. 101–106. 4. For analyses of post-independence politics see Rene Lemarchand, Burundi: Ethnocide as Discourse and Practice (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994); Lemarchand, Rwanda and Burundi (London: Pall Mall, 1970); Robert Schrire and Warren Weinstein, Political Conict and Ethnic Strategies: A Case Study of Burundi (Syracuse: Maxwell School of Citizenship and Public Affairs, 1976); and Villia Jefremonas, “Treacherous Waters: The Politics of History and the Politics of Genocide in Rwanda and Burundi,” Africa, vol. 70, no. 2, 2000, pp. 298–308. 5. Filip Reyntjens, “The Proof of the Pudding is in the Eating: The June 1993 Elections in Burundi,” Journal of Modern African Studies, vol. 31, no. 4, 1993, pp. 563–83; Leonce Ndikumana, “Institutional Failure and Ethnic Conicts in Burundi,” African Studies Review, vol. 41, no. 1, April 1998, pp. 35–36; Jason Abrams, “Burundi: Anatomy of Ethnic Conict.” Survival vol. 37, no. 1, 1995, pp. 144–64; and Thomas Laely, “Peasants, Local Communities, and Central Power in Burundi,” Journal of Modern African Studies, vol. 35, no. 4, 1997, pp. 695–716. 6. Catherine Watson, “Interview: President Melchior Ndadaye,” Africa Report, vol. 32, no. 3, September–October, 1993, p. 62. See also Rose M. Kadende-Kaiser and Paul J. Kaiser, “Modern Folklore, Identity, and Political Change in Burundi,” African Studies Review, vol. 40, no. 3, December 1997, pp. 37–38. 7. Catherine Watson, “Burundi: Freedom from Fear,” Africa Report, vol. 32, no. 3, September– October, 1993, pp. 58–61; and Allison Boyer, “Burundi: Unity at Last,” Africa Report, vol. 37, no. 2, March–April 1992, pp. 37–40. 8. John Sedlins, “Burundi’s Former President Praised in U.S.: Visiting Buyoya is ‘Hero and Legend’,” United States Information Agency, September 8, 1993. 9. Robert M. Press, “Burundi’s Ethnic Strife Rekindles: Emotions Flare as the New Hutu Government Purges Minority Tutsi Ofce-holders,” The Christian Science Monitor, September 29, 1993, p. 3. 10. For details of the events following the coup see Press, “Military Coup in Burundi Dissolves New Democracy,” The Christian Science Monitor, November 22, 1993, p. 6; Ezekiel Pajibo, “Burundi Analysis: Burundi, A Democracy Gone Awry: Is the Power Struggle in Burundi

150

11.

12.

13. 14.

15.

16.

17. 18. 19. 20.

CHAPTER FOUR

Really about ‘Tribalism’”? Africa Faith and Justice Network, November 4, 1993; “Burundi: U.N. Issues 9.5 Million Dollar Appeal for Refugees,” Inter Press Service, November 23, 1993; Moyra Ashford, “Burundi: British Aid Agency Takes Initiative in Peace Bid,” Inter Press Service, November 23, 1993; “Refugees-Burundi: Fund Raising Campaign Launched,” Inter Press Service, November 29, 1993; Shada Islam, “Burundi-Refugees: Belgian Urges EC Partners to Step up Support,” Inter Press Service, December 2, 1993; Alpha Nuhu, “Burundi-Refugees: More NGOs Offer Assistance,” Inter Press Service, December 4, 1993; John Baptist Kayigamba, “Burundi-Human Rights: The Army Guilty of Atrocities,” Inter Press Service, February 18, 1994; Debra Percival, “War-Burundi: 50,000 Deaths Yet to be Explained, Says Report,” Inter Press Service, July 5, 1994; “Commission Releases Initial Observations on Massacres,” FBIS-Afr-94–030, February 14, 1994, p. 2. Stephen R. Weissman, “Preventing Genocide in Burundi: Lessons from International Diplomacy,” in United States Institute of Peace, Peaceworks No. 22 (Washington DC: United States Institute of Peace, 1998), p. 6. See also Rene Lemarchand, “Genocide in the Great Lakes: Which Genocide? Whose Genocide?” African Studies Review, vol. 41, no. 1, April 1998, p. 5. For conceptual discussion of entry see Saadia Touval, “Gaining Entry to Mediation in Communal Strife,” p. 259; and John B. Stephens, “Acceptance of Mediation Initiatives: A Preliminary Framework,” in Mitchell and Webb, eds., New Approaches to International Mediation, pp. 52–74. “Burundi: UN Responds to Coup d’etat, Sudden Refugee Crisis,” UN Chronicle, March 1994, p. 58. John Sedlins, “Envoy Urges Support for OAU-U.N. Action in Burundi,” United States Information Agency, October 29, 1993; Judy Aita, “U.N. General Assembly Condemns Burundi Coup: OAU Urged to Help Restore Order,” United States Information Agency, November 4, 1993. The foreign minister acknowledged that “The number is small but the OAU told us that they feared that a bigger force would not be acceptable to the Burundi army,” cited in Horace Awori, “Burundi: Army Continues to Hunt Hutus,” Inter Press Service, November 26, 1993. See also “Demonstrators March to Support Peacekeeping Mission,” FBIS-Afr94–002, January 4, 1994, p. 1. Horace Awori, “Burundi-Peace: OAU Force Expected by January,” Inter Press Service, December 14, 1993; Paul Chintowa, “Burundi-OAU: Peace-keepers Opposed,” Inter Press Service, January 11, 1994. For Tanzania’s warnings and appeals see “Burundi-Politics: Foreign Peacekeepers Needed to Ensure Peace,” Inter Press Service, February 1, 1994; “Burundi-Tanzania: Leaders hold Talks on Security,” Inter Press Service, February 12, 1994; “OAU Council Supports Burundi Peacekeeping Force,” FBIS-Afr-94–023, February 24, 1997, p. 1. Ahmedou Ould-Abdallah, Burundi on the Brink, 1993–1995 (Washington D.C.: US Institute of Peace, Perspectives Series, 2000), pp. 37–40. Ould-Abdallah, Burundi on the Brink, p. 41. “Government, Parties Reach Truce,” FBIS-Afr-94–010, January 14, 1994, pp. 1–3. For discussion of the negotiations see Ould-Abdalla, Burundi on the Brink, pp. 67–75. “President Addresses Nation 23 March, Appeals for Peace,” FBIS-Afr-94–057, March 24, 1994, p. 2. See also “Up to 100 Dead Reported in Bujumbura Clashes,” FBIS-Afr-94–055, March 22, 1994, p. 1; “Prime Minister Outlines New Security Measures,” FBIS-Afr-94–047, March 10, 1994, p. 1; “Burundi-Politics: Ethnic Violence Wracks East African Nation,” Inter Press Service, March 30, 1994; “Burundi: U.N. Launches Aid Appeal for 53 Million

NYERERE MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1995–1999

21. 22. 23. 24.

25.

26.

27. 28. 29.

30. 31.

32. 33.

151

Dollars,” Inter Press Service, March 30, 1994; “Burundi-Politics: A Semblance of Calm Prevails in the Capital,” Inter Press Service, March 25, 1994. “Interior Minister Calls for International Force,” FBIS-Afr-94–062, March 31, 1994, p. 1. “Assembly Vice President Comments,” FBIS-Afr-94–059, March 28, 1994, p. 2. Paul Chintowa, “Africa-Refugees: Troubled Burundi to Host Summit on Rwanda,” Inter Press Service, February 4, 1995. “Opposition Threatens to Form a Parallel Government,” FBIS-Afr-94–114, June 14, 1994, p. 7 and Horace Awori, “Burundi-Politics: Rwanda’s Twin on the Verge of Bloody Chaos?” Inter Press Service, August 6, 1994. Rene Lemarchand, “Burundi At a Crossroads,” in Khadiagala, ed., Security Dynamics in Africa’s Great Lakes Region (Boulder: Lynne Rienner Publishers, 2006), p. 52 is critical of the mediation role of Ould-Abdallah for according disproportionate seats to the Tutsis and his pro-Tutsi sympathies, “a fact perhaps related to his aristocratic origins as a representative of the Mauritanian bidan (white community).” Agostinho Zacarias, “Time to Stop a Genocide Culture,” World Today, vol. 52, November 1996, p. 286. For analysis of the process and outcomes of internal negotiations see “Attempted Coup by Army Collapsed,” FBIS-Afr-94–079, April 25, 1994, p. 1; “Security Situation Deteriorating in Bujumbura,” FBIS-Afr-94–082, April 28, 1994, p. 1; Robert M. Press, “Burundi Negotiates Careful Path to Avert Rwanda’s Ethnic Strife,” The Christian Science Monitor, July 13, 1994; Horace Awori, “Burundi-Politics: Rwanda’s Twin on the Verge of Bloody Chaos?” Inter Press Service, August 6, 1994; Robert M. Press, “Burundi: Averting Another Rwanda as Hutu-Tutsi Violence Rises, Government and Opposition Try to Negotiate a Solution,” The Christian Science Monitor, August 19, 1994; “Prime Minister Outlines Policies,” FBIS-Afr-94–195, October 7, 1994, p. 1; Michael Lund and others, “Learning from Burundi’s Failed Democratic Transition, 1993–1996: Did the International Initiatives Match the Problem?” in Barnett R. Rubin, ed., Cases and Strategies for Preventive Action (New York: Council on Foreign Relations, 1998), pp. 63–65; and Ould-Abdallah, Burundi on the Brink, pp. 73–91. “President Wants Militias Disarmed,” FBIS-Afr-95–034, February 21, 1995, pp. 1–2. “President on Situation,” FBIS-Afr-95–058, March 27, 1995, p. 5. Barbara Borst, “Burundi: Humanitarian and Reconciliation Efforts under Threat,” Inter Press Service, June 9, 1995; “Hutus, Tutsis Engage in Ethnic Cleansing,” FBIS-Afr-94–248, December 27, 1994, p. 3; Jean Baptiste Kayigamba, “Burundi-Politics: The Specter of Genocide Looms Large,” Inter Press Service, January 31, 1995; “Army Accused of Killing Hutus,” and “President Assails Balkanization,” FBIS-Afr-95–058, March 27, 1995, p. 4; “Refugees Flooding into Zaire,” and “Country on the Brink of Genocide,” FBIS-Afr-95–058, March 27, 1995, p. 5; Jean-Baptiste Kayigamba “Burundi-Politics: Hutu Rebels Expelled from the Capital,” Inter Press Service, June 8, 1995. “Hutu Opposition Calls for Armed Uprising,” FBIS-Afr-95–073, April 17, 1995, p. 1; “Hutu Leader Condemns French Military Aid,” FBIS-Afr-95–076, April 20, 1995, pp. 1–2. “Nduwayo Laments ‘Vicious Circle’ of Violence,” FBIS-Afr-95–061, March 30, 1995, p. 8. For a description of the extent of the guerrilla war see Stephen R. Wiessman, Preventing Genocide in Burundi, p. 7. “FRODEBU Radicals Form Guerrilla Movement,” FBIS-Afr-95–035, February 22, 1995, p. 1. “Party Ofcials React,” FBIS-Afr-95–032, February 16, 1995, p. 1.

152

CHAPTER FOUR

34. “President Wants Militias Disarmed,” FBIS-Afr-95–034, February 21, 1995, p. 3. See also “Situation in Burundi Reported,” FBIS-Afr-95–059, March 28, 1995, p. 3; and “President Urges Learning Rwandan ‘Lessons’,” FBIS-Afr-95–060, March 29, 1995, p. 1. 35. “FRODEBU Call for Foreign Aid,” FBIS-Afr-95–058, March 27, 1995, p. 3 and “FRODEBU Ofcial Urges International Intervention,” FBIS-Afr-95–060, March 29, 1995, pp. 1–2. 36. Alpha Nuhu, “Tanzania-Refugees: UNHCR Concerned with Border Closure,” Inter Press Service, June 5, 1995. 37. Paul Chintowa, “Burundi-Politics: Tanzania Threatens to Intervene,” Inter Press Service, June 12, 1995; “Foreign Minister on OAU Mission,” FBIS-Afr-95–070, April 12, 1995, p. 2 and “OAU Mission Ends Meeting ‘Full of Optimism,’” FBIS-Afr-95–072, April 14, 1995, p. 1. 38. “Salim on Military Intervention,” FBIS-Afr-95–070, April 12, 1995, p. 1. 39. “Belgian Foreign Minister Urges Internal Solution,” FBIS-Afr-95–061, p. 12 and “France’s Debre Wants Mobutu Involved in Solution,” FBIS-Afr-95–060, March 29, 1995, p. 1. 40. Interview, Washington, D.C., November 23, 2001. 41. Cited in Michael S. Lund and others, “Learning from Failed Democratic Transition,” p. 221. 42. The Carter Center, “Cairo Declaration on the Great Lakes Region,” Atlanta: The Carter Center, November 29, 1995. 43. The Carter Center, “Great Lakes Heads of State Issue Declaration in Tunis,” Atlanta: The Carter Center, March 18, 1996. 44. For a summary of these theories see Christopher R. Mitchell and Keith Webb, eds., New Approaches to International Mediation; Vivien Jabri and Stephen Chan, “Introduction: Mediation Theory and Application,” in Chan and Jabri, eds., Mediation in Southern Africa (London: St. Martin’s Press 1995), pp. xi–xxi; and Craig McEwen and Thomas Milburn, “Explaining the Paradox of Mediation,” p. 34. 45. Buchizya Mseteka, “Nyerere Takes on Burundi Challenge,” Reuters, March 1, 1996. 46. “Leading from the Front,” New Vision (Kampala), August 1, 1996, p. 4. 47. “Albright Warns Against Use of Violence in Burundi: Albright Statement to News Conference,” United States Information Agency, January 24, 1996; George Moffett, “Halting Rwanda-Style Tragedies: In Africa, US Envoy Urged Peaceful Solutions to Conicts,” The Christian Science Monitor, February 1, 1996, p. 7; “Burundi: A Sense of Dread: Interview with Albright and Sicola,” Public Broadcasting Service (Washington, D.C.: January 1996). 48. Judy Aita, “U.N. Security Council Encourages Burundi talks, New Resolution also Provides for Rapid Contingency Action,” United States Information Agency, March 6, 1996. For earlier U.N. efforts see “U.N. Resolution Condemns Violence in Burundi: Security Council Resolution 1040,” United States Information Agency, January 30, 1996; “Security Council Sends Team to Burundi, Wants Security Assessment to Help Aid Workers,” United States Information Agency, January 19, 1996; Judy Aita, “Security Council Threatens Arms Embargo on Burundi, Albright: U.S. won’t Support a Government that Comes to Power by Force,” United States Information Agency, January 30, 1996; Kathi Austin, “World Withdrawal Portends Disaster in Burundi,” The Christian Science Monitor, January 23, 1996, p. 18. 49. For discussion of the positions and conicts between the parties see “Burundi: Uprona Leader Views Failed Talks: Ready for Future Rounds,” FBIS-Afr-96–115, June 13, 1996, p. 1; “Burundi: Opposition Parties Question Objectives of Mwanza Talks,” FBIS-Afr-96–115, June 13, 1996, p. 2; “Burundi: UPRONA Leader-FRODEBU Responsible for the Impasse in

NYERERE MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1995–1999

50.

51. 52.

53.

54.

55.

56. 57.

58. 59. 60. 61.

153

Talks,” FBIS-Afr-96–112, June 10, 1996, p. 1; “Burundi: Ruling Party Backs Government after Failed Mwanza Talks,” FBIS-Afr-96–114, June 12, 1996, p. 1. Ntibantunganya described the perilous security situation and complained about the laxity of the security forces: “Burundi has become a center of death . . . because the security services are paralyzed and inoperative . . . Gangs of killers have been formed and are operating unhindered in the capital as well as the country’s interior,” cited in “Burundi: President Concerned about Security Ofcial’s Reaction,” FBIS-Afr-96–097, May 17, 1996, p. 2. See also “Burundi Army Reportedly not in Control,” FBIS-Afr-96–097, May 20, 1996, pp. 1–2. “Burundi: Nyangoma Control over CNDD Guerrillas ‘Not Clear’,” FBIS-Afr-96–099, May 21, 1996, p. 1. “Burundi: Opposition Party Vows to Fight UN Military Intervention,” FBIS-Afr-96–100, May 22, 1996, p. 1; “Burundi: UPRONA Party Denounces Plans to Send Foreign Troops,” FBIS-Afr-96–105, May 30, 1996, pp. 1–2. “Burundi: Nduwayo-Region has Ideology of Genocide,” FBIS-Afr-96–115, June 13, 1996, p. 3. For the government position on these issues see “Burundi: Talk Among Political Parties End on ‘Optimistic’ Note,” FBIS-Afr-96–120, June 20, 1996, p. 1; “Burundi: President Interviewed on Proposed Arusha Summit,” FBIS-Afr-96–122, June 22, 1996, p. 1. John Shattuck, “More than Words are needed to Stop Terror in Burundi,” The Christian Science Monitor, June 24, 1996, p. 19. See also reports on the visits of National Security Adviser, Anthony Lake; Assistant Secretary of State for African Affairs, George Moose, and Richard Bogesian, State Department envoy on Burundi in Christian Jennings, “U.S. Ofcial in Burundi to Discuss Violence,” Reuters, May 30, 1996; “Moose to Discuss Burundi Crisis with Regional Leaders,” Reuters, May 29, 1996. “Burundi: UPRONA Leader Views Failed Talks: Ready for Future Rounds,” FBIS-Afr96–115, June 13, 1996, p. 1; “Burundi: Opposition Parties Question Objectives of Mwanza Talks,” FBIS-Afr-96–115, June 13, 1996, p. 2; “Burundi: UPRONA Leader-FRODEBU Responsible for the Impasse in Talks,” FBIS-Afr-96–112, June 10, 1996, p. 1; “Burundi: Ruling Party Backs Government after Failed Mwanza Talks,” FBIS-Afr-96–114, June 12, 1996, p. 1. See also the claims attributed to extremist Tutsis that Nyerere “wished to get the West to nance an ‘expansionist’ operation aiming at establishing an English-speaking African condominium in Burundi,” cited in “Burundi: Tutsis Reportedly Preparing for Guerrilla Warfare,” FBIS-Afr-96–136, July 15, 1996, p. 1. International Crisis Group, “Burundi Under Siege: Lift the Sanctions, Re-Launch the Peace Process”. Brussels: ICG Burundi Report No. 1, April 27, 1998, p. 11. In interviews with Tutsi leaders, Nyerere was often portrayed as lacking the knowledge of the “complexities of Burundi’s politics.” Interviews, Kampala, June 1996; Washington D.C., August 1997. See also International Crisis Group, “Burundi Under Siege.” Cited in “Burundi: Belgium Gives ‘Full Support’ to Arusha Talks,” FBIS-Afr-96–130, July 5, 1996, p. 1. Joyce Hackel, “Interview with Julius Nyerere: Peace may Hinge on One Man,” The Christian Science Monitor, June 19, 1996, p. 6. “Burundi: Nduwayo-Region has Ideology of Genocide,” FBIS-Afr-96–115, June 13, 1996, pp. 3 and 4. “Inter-African: Tanzanian President’s Opening Remarks at Summit on Burundi,” FBIS-Afr96–124, June 26, 1996, p. 1; “OAU Supports Nyerere’s Peace Efforts in Burundi,” Agence France Presse, June 17, 1996.

154

CHAPTER FOUR

62. “Inter-African: Burundi Summit Ends with Plan for Regional Military,” FBIS-Afr-96–124, June 26, 1996, p. 1; “Burundi: Ntibantunganya Returns from Arusha, Urges End to Violence,” FBIS-Afr-96–124, June 26, 1996, p. 4; “Inter-African: Regional Presidents Issue Communiqué on Burundi Summit,” FBIS-Afr-96–124, June 26, 1996, p. 2. 63. “Burundi: Prime Minister Interviewed on Results of Arusha Summit,” FBIS-Afr-96–125, June 27, 1996, p. 1. See also “Burundi: President Takes Responsibility for Burundian Peace,” FBIS-Afr-96–125, June 27, 1996, p. 1. 64. “Burundi: President Mulls Foreign Intervention in National Day Speech,” FBIS-Afr-96–128, July 2, 1996, p. 1; “Burundi: Defense Minister-Peacekeepers’ Commander Must be Burundian,” FBIS-Afr-96–129, July 3, 1996, p. 1. For accounts of the extent of the opposition see “Burundi: Leaders Hasten to Explain Foreign Military Intervention,” FBIS-Afr-96–127, July 1, 1996, p. 6; “Burundi: Government-Nothing Final on Issue of Foreign Military Aid,” FBIS-Afr-96–127, July 1, 1996, p. 7; “Burundi: Defense, Interior Ministers React to Military Aid Request,” FBIS-Afr-96–127, July 1, 1996, p. 7; “Burundi: Citizens Demonstrate Against Foreign Military Intervention,” FBIS-Afr-96–127, July 1, 1996, p. 8; “Burundi: Hutu Liberation Party Rejects Plan for Foreign Intervention,” FBIS-Afr-96–128, July 2, 1996, p. 2; “Burundi: Prime Minister Says President had ‘Hidden Agenda’,” FBIS-Afr-96–130, July 5, 1996, p. 1; “Burundi: FDD Guerrilla Groups Rejects Arusha Plan,” FBIS-Afr-96–140, July 19, 1996, p. 2. 65. Stefan Lovgren, “Burundi on Edge over an ‘Invasion’: African Nations may Provide Military Force to Restore Peace, But some Burundians Object,” The Christian Science Monitor, July 9, 1996, p. 5. 66. Matt Bigg, “Nyerere Sends Warning to Burundi’s Warring Factions,” Reuters, July 12, 1996. 67. Collete Braeckman of Brussels’ Le Soir, cited in “Burundi: Nduwayo-Region has Ideology of Genocide,” FBIS-Afr-96–115, June 13, 1996, p. 3. 68. “Burundi: Buyoya-It was a Coup d’etat ‘with a Difference’,” FBIS-Afr-96–145, July 26, 1996, p. 6. See also “Burundi: Buyoya Interviewed on Coup d’etat,” FBIS-Afr-96–147, July 29, 1996, p. 2. 69. “Burundi: Buyoya Vows Burundi ‘Will Not Crack’ Under Embargo,” FBIS-Afr-98–054, February 23, 1998. 70. “Burundi: Buyoya-It Was a Coup d’etat ‘with a Difference’,” FBIS-Afr-96–145, July 26, 1996, p. 6. 71. Cited in James C. McKinnley, “In the Wars of Central Africa, an Ethnic Hot Zone,” The New York Times, August 10, 1997, p. 3. 72. Neely Tucker “Burundi Leader to Discuss Plan to End Conict between Tutsis, Hutus,” The Dallas Morning News, May 10, 1998, p. 22A. See also the famous description of the coup by the Burundian Foreign Minister, Luc Rukingama: “You cannot have a coup d’etat when there is no etat,” cited in Paul Cullen, “Tutsi Military Now Seeks End to Civil War it Cannot Win,” The Irish Times, May 30, 1998, p. 13. 73. See the excellent assessment of the “creeping coup” in U.S. Committee for Refugees, Coup in Burundi: Initial Recommendations and Analysis (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Committee for Refugees, July 30, 1996). 74. For analyses of the sequence of events leading to the coup see “Burundi: Opposition Leader-Move Tantamount to ‘Deposing’ President,” FBIS-Afr-96–142, July 25, 1996, p. 4; Stephen Buckley, “Burundi Leader Flees to Home of U.S. Envoy: Coup Fears Compel Hutu to Take Refuge,” Washington Post, July 25, 1996, p. A10; “Burundi: Civil Society Rejects Power-Sharing Agreement,” FBIS-Afr-96–143, July 24, 1996, p. 4; “Burundi: Oppo-

NYERERE MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1995–1999

75.

76. 77. 78.

79.

80. 81.

82.

83. 84. 85.

86.

155

sition UPRONA Party Denounces Government,” FBIS-Afr-96–143, July 24, 1996, pp. 4–5; “Burundi: Seven Opposition Parties Withdraw Condence in President,” FBIS-Afr-96–142, July 25, 1996, p. 4; “Burundi: Students Demonstrating for Military Rule,” FBIS-Afr-96–142, July 25, 1996, p. 7. “Burundi: Buyoya Addresses Nation,” FBIS-Afr-96–145, July 26, 1996, p. 5; “Burundi: Army Spokesman Conrms Coup: Parliament, Parties Dissolved,” FBIS-Afr-96–145, July 26, 1996, p. 3. “Burundi: Peace Broker Nyerere Discusses Burundi Situation,” FBIS-Afr-96–145, July 26, 1996, pp. 11–12. “The Joint Communiqué of the Second Arusha Regional Summit on Burundi,” Arusha, July 31, 1996. Stephen Buckley, “Sanctions and Solidarity in Central Africa,” Washington Post, August 15, 1996, p. A19; Judith Matloff, “Africans Tighten a Noose on One of their Own,” The Christian Science Monitor, August 9, 1996, p. 1; Buchizya Mseteka, “Tanzania’s Nyerere Force Behind Burundi Boycotts,” Reuters, August 6, 1996; Louise Tunbridge, “Burundi’s Big Neighbors Cut Trade to Try to Strangle Tutsi-led Coup,” The Christian Science Monitor, August 6, 1996, p. 7; Amos Esele, “A big Leap Backward for Burundi, Africa News Service, August 6, 1996. “WHO Calls for Protection of Burundi’s Vulnerable Groups,” Pan African News Agency, September 11, 1996. See also Carol Bellamy, “Sanction’s Impact on Children,” The Christian Science Monitor, August 26, 1996, p. 20; “U.N. Negotiates with Tanzania to Allow in Food,” Reuters, August 14, 1996; Chris Tomlinson, “Burundi-Buyoya,” Voice of America, Correspondent report no. 2-204173, October 5, 1996; “Burundi: Regional Foreign Ministers Meeting Press Release,” Kampala, August 16, 1996; Martin Woolacott, “A Land Split Right Down the Middle,” The Guardian, July 27, 1996. “FRODEBU Supports Burundi Rebels,” New Vision, September 5, 1996. See for instance, “CNDD Letter to the UN Security Council, Ofce of the CNDD President,” Nairobi, August 1, 1996; Innocent Nimpagaritse, “Letter of CNDD Representation in Nairobi to the Regional Sanctions Committee,” Nairobi, August 31, 1996; Chris Tomlinson, “Burundi-Rebels,” Voice of America, Correspondent Report no. 202444, August 30, 1996. “Report on Press Conference by Foreign Minister of Burundi at the United Nations,” Pan African News Agency, October 2, 1996. For additional views on sanctions see John Fleming, “Will Burundi Sanctions Restore Civilian rule? Some in Hard-Hit Capital Say they only Iname Civil War,” The Christian Science Monitor, September 12, 1996, p. 6. “Nyerere Urges Dialogue Between Hutus and Tutsis in Burundi,” Xinhua News Agency, September 4, 1996. See also “Buyoya to Meet Nyerere,” New Vision, August 26, 1996. “Military Restores Political Parties and National Assembly,” Pan African News Agency, September 13, 1996. “Recommendations by the Second Meeting of the Regional Sanctions Coordinating Committee,” Kigali, Rwanda, September 25, 1996; “Tanzania Says Burundi Has Not Yet Earned Sanctions Reprieve,” Deutsche Presse-Agentur, September 15, 1996; Moses Draku, “Burundi Seeking New Regional Summit,” Pan African News Agency, October 8, 1996. For a review of recent literature on sanctions see the contributions in Neta C. Crawford and Audie Klotz, How Sanctions Work: Lessons from South Africa (New York: Macmillan, 1999); Robert A. Pape, “Why International Sanctions Do Not Work,” International Security, vol. 22, no. 2, 1997; and Richard Farmer, “Costs of Economic Sanctions to the Sender,” World Economy, vol. 23, no. 1, 2000.

156

CHAPTER FOUR

87. For a summary of these campaigns see for instance, The International Crisis Group, “Lifting Embargo on Burundi is Key to Maintaining Peace Process Momentum,” IGC Report, July 17, 1998 and United Nations Department of Humanitarian Affairs, DHA Report on Regional Sanctions Against Burundi (New York: United Nations, December 1997). For a balanced analysis see Eric Hoskins and Samantha Hunt, The Humanitarian Impacts of Economic Sanctions on Burundi, (Providence: The Thomas J. Watson Institute for International Studies, Occasional Paper No. 29, 1997). 88. Western ambivalence toward the sanctions is analyzed in Weissman, “Preventing Genocide,” pp. 19–20. 89. Interview, Nairobi, June 1997. See also “The Region Imposes Sanctions,” New Vision, August 1, 1996. 90. “Kenyan Leader Indicates Support for African Crisis Force,” United States Information Agency, October 15, 1996. 91. “Report on Press Conference by Foreign Minister of Burundi at the United Nations,” Pan African News Agency, October 2, 1996. 92. For a summary of Buyoya’s diplomatic offensive see “Uganda: Burundi’s Buyoya in Talks With Museveni on Peace, Sanctions, FBIS-Afr-97–144, May 24, 1997; “Burundi: Burundi’s Buyoya Urges International Support for Peace,” FBIS-Afr-97–178, June 27, 1997. 93. “U.S. Welcomes Decision to Restore Burundi Assembly,” Africa News Service, September 18, 1996. An American ofcial derided the sanctions as the “Swiss-cheese version of sanctions,” Interview, Washington, D.C., November 19, 1998. 94. Scott Stearns, “Burundi Sanctions,” Voice of America, Correspondent Report, no. 203570, September 24, 1996; Judith Matloff, “Crisis in the Heart of Africa,” The Christian Science Monitor, October 3, 1996, p. 7. 95. “Christopher Sees Progress in Burundi: Text of Remarks Prepared for Delivery by U.S. Secretary of State Warren Christopher, Arusha,” United States Information Agency, October 1996; “Christopher Praises Buyoya,” Features Africa Network News Bulletin, October 12, 1996. See also “Interview with Assistant Secretary of State for African Affairs, George Moose,” United States Information Agency, October 1996. 96. Chris McGreal, “Sanctions Push Burundi Ruler into Talks,” Mail and Guardian, October 18, 1996. 97. “Joint Communiqué of The Third Arusha Regional Summit on Burundi on 12th October, 1996 in Arusha, Tanzania;” Scott Stearns, “Burundi Sanctions,” Voice of America, Correspondent Report no. 2-204235, October 7, 1996; Scott Stearns, “Burundi Sanctions,” Voice of America, Correspondent Report no. 2-204530, October 13, 1996. 98. Scott Stearns “Burundi Sanctions,” Voice of America, Correspondent Report no. 2-204568, October 14, 1996. 99. “Buyoya under Heavy Pressure Not to Negotiate with Rebels,” Pan African News Agency, October 17, 1996. 100. “Burundi: Lift Embargo Before Talks-Bujumbura,” Features Africa Network News Bulletin, October 15, 1996; Chris Tomlinson, “Burundi Talks,” Voice of America, Correspondent Report no. 2-204573, October 14, 1996; “Tanzania-Burundi: East African Ministers Cancel Trip to Burundi,” Pan African News Agency, October 17, 1996. 101. “A Jolt for Burundi and Rwanda,” Washington Post, October 26, 1996, p. A22; Stephen Buckley, “Ethnic Battles Flare Anew in Africa: In Tense Region, Bad Blood Between Zaire and Tutsis Boils Over,” Washington Post, October 26, 1996, p. A20; “Kagame: Rwanda

NYERERE MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1995–1999

102.

103. 104. 105. 106.

107. 108.

109.

110.

111. 112. 113.

114. 115. 116.

157

Conceived, Masterminded, and Led the War in Eastern Zaire,” The Monitor (Kampala), July 6, 1997. Sam Kiley, “Amnesty Accuses Burundi Army of Massacring Hutus,” The Times, November 22, 1996; “Burundi Tutsis Battle Hutus,” Associated Press, November 29, 1996; UN Department of Humanitarian Affairs, “UN Humanitarian Situation Report: Burundi,” December 13, 1996. Jakaya M. Kikwete, “Tanzania and the Great Lakes Region,” Public Lecture, Center for International and Strategic Studies, Washington, D.C., January 15, 1998. Louis Okamba, “No Answers from African Summit,” Associated Press, December 3, 1996. Louis Okamba, “No Answers from African Summit,” Associated Press, December 3, 1996. “Relief Agencies Say Sanctions Hurt Burundi,” Reuters, January 13, 1997. See also UN Department of Humanitarian Affairs, “Sanctions hamper Burundi Relief Effort,” January 14, 1997 and Moyiga Nduru, “Kenyan Politician Calls for Lifting of Embargo,” Inter Press Service, November 15, 1996. Stephen Buckley, “Porous Burundi Borders could Thwart Embargo: Smuggling Called Threat to OAU Sanctions,” Washington Post, August 2, 1996, p. A16. Judith Matloff, “African Nations Losing Will to Punish,” The Christian Science Monitor, December 18, 1996, p. 6; Mbatau wa Ngai, “Tricky Tanzania Grabs Business at Kenya’s Expense,” Sunday Nation (Nairobi), April 6, 1997; “Burundi Embargo ‘Busted,’” Nation, March 4, 1997; “Time to Lift Sanctions?” The EastAfrican, April 14–20, 1997, p. 8. See, for instance, a Burundian government memorandum that claimed that: “The blockade was imposed in pure violation of international regulations as it was a unilateral decision and received no endorsement from the United Nations or the Organization of African Unity . . . As a matter of fact, such coercive and severe measure should be adopted by or under the authority of the United Nations Security Council only in accordance with Article 24 and Chapter VII of the Charter of the United Nations.” “Burundi Memorandum,” Arusha, March 1998. Ferdinand Bigumandondera, “Burundi Team Denied Permission to Leave for Talks in Tanzania,” Pan African News Agency, December 12, 1996. See also Segun Adeyemi, “Nyerere Blames Zaire for Crisis in the Great Lakes,” Pan African News Agency, December 18, 1996. Ferdinand Bigumandondera, “Burundians to Contribute Toward War Effort,” Pan African News Agency, December 19, 1996. Peter Capella, “Burundi Troops Massacre 1,000,” The Times, January 30, 1997; “Burundian Leader Promises to Probe Killings,” Reuter Information Service, January 30, 1997. Sonya Laurence Green, “Burundi-National Debate,” Voice of America, Correspondent Report, no. 2-209316, January 28, 1997; Karin Davies, “Burundi Asks for Blockade Lift,” Associated Press, January 28, 1997; Moyiga Nduru, “Massacres Weaken Bid to Have Sanctions Lifted,” Mail and Guardian, January 16, 1997. Glynne Evans, Responding to Crises in the African Great Lakes, pp. 40–41 and Stephen R. Weissman, Preventing Genocide in Burundi, p. 24. Interview, Washington, D.C., November 19, 2001. For contrasting positions on this issue see Fabienne Hara, “Burundi: A Case of Parallel Diplomacy,” in Chester Crocker and others, eds., Herding Cats: Multiparty Mediation

158

117. 118.

119. 120. 121. 122.

123. 124. 125. 126.

127. 128. 129. 130. 131.

132. 133.

CHAPTER FOUR

in a Complex World, (Washington, DC: The U.S. Institute of Peace, 1999), p. 147; and Stephen R. Weissman, Preventing Genocide in Burundi, p. 26. Interview, Washington, D.C., November 19, 2001. Hugh Nevill, “Burundi: Summit Lifts Many Sanctions Against Burundi,” Agence France Press, April 16, 1997; “Political Solution Vital in Ending Burundi Conict,” The East African, April 21–27, 1997, p. 6; “First Cracks in Burundi Embargo Stance,” The East African, April 21–27, 1997, pp. 1 and 6. For discussions leading to this meeting see Frank Kilimba, “Salim to Propose Relaxation of Sanctions on Burundi,” Pan African News Agency, April 15, 1997; “Burundi-Summit-OAU: Ease Sanctions: OAU,” Agence France Press, April 14, 1997; Hugh Nevill, “Burundi-Summit: Regional Leaders Under Pressure to Ease Burundi Embargo,” Agence France Press, April 15, 1997. “Future of Sanctions,” The East African, April 23, 1997. Interview, Washington, D.C., November 19, 2001. Interview, Washington, D.C., November 19, 2001. Agnes Nindoregara, “Burundi-Tanzania: Tension High on Burundi-Tanzania Border,” Agence France Presse, April 28, 1997; Moses Draku, “Burundi and Tanzanian Military Commanders to Meet,” Pan African Agency, April 28, 1997. “Burundian Minister-Sanctions Obstruct Peace Process,” FBIS-Afr-97–234, August 22, 1997. “Burundi Foreign Minister Says Tanzania Threat to Peace,” FBIS-Afr-97–231, August 19, 1997. “Tanzania Condemns Executions of Six by Burundi Junta,” Africa News, August 18, 1997. As one report was to warn accurately in 1999, “there is a risk that the Arusha process will increasingly appear as little more than a forum for Tanzania and Burundi to settle their differences. This would lose the peace process the legitimacy and credibility that it had previously acquired through its proof of regional unanimity and solidarity.” See International Crisis Group, “Burundi: Internal and Regional Implications of the Suspension of Sanctions,” IGC Report, May 4, 1999. Fabienne Hara, “Burundi: A Case of Parallel Diplomacy, p. 152. For another good overview of NGOs in the conict see Ould-Abdalla, Burundi on the Brink, pp. 84–89. Jan Van Eck, “Burundi: Who’s Afraid of the ‘N’ Word?” Conict Watch, August 21, 1997. Jan Van Eck, “Burundi: Who’s Afraid of the ‘N’ Word?” Jan Van Eck, “Burundi: Who’s Afraid of the ‘N’ Word?” “Burundi Wants South African Help in Mediation,” Agence France Presse, October 3, 1997 and “Buyoya Resists Nyerere,” The Indian Ocean Newsletter, no. 777, September 6, 1997. Interview, Washington, D.C., November 19, 2001. “Burundi-Opposition CNDD Comments on Stalled Arusha Talks,” FBIS-Afr-97–238, August 26, 1997; British Broadcasting Corporation, Summary of World Broadcasts, AL/D3009/A, August 28, 1997; “Burundi Military Regime Rejects Summit Orders,” Xinhua News Agency, September 15, 1997; “Government Says it Will Attend Next Round of Peace Talks,” British Broadcasting Corporation, Summary of World Broadcasts, AL/D3028/A, September 19, 1997; “Burundian Government Disappointed Over Arusha Resolutions,” FBIS-Afr-97–248, September 5, 1997; “Government Expresses Disappointment with Regional Summit Decisions,” British Broadcasting Corporation, Summary of World Broadcasts, no. AL/D3018/A, September 8, 1997.

NYERERE MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1995–1999

159

134. Erstwhile critics of sanctions and Nyerere such as International Alert, a London-based NGO and the sponsor of parallel initiatives called the Association of the Apostles of Peace (La Compagnie des Apotres de la Paix-CAP) even began to acknowledge the extent of regional pressure. As one of its representatives noted after a visit to Bujumbura in mid-1998: “The word “negotiations” is now perfectly usable in Bujumbura! I would not have dared use it last year. Now everyone talks about negotiations! This represents a major change of attitude and climate in Bujumbura.” Tony Jackson, “Brief Notes on My Trip to Bujumbura, June 26–July 10, 1998,” Arusha. For the role of International Alert in Burundian conict see “The Quest for Dialogue and Peace in Burundi: The Role of CAP,” Arusha, October 2, 1998. 135. Moyiga Nduru, “Burundi: “Rebels Resort to New Tactics to Scare Opponents,” Inter Press Service, January 8, 1998. 136. Joe Kaunda, “COMESA Urged to Review Sanctions Against Burundi,” Pan African News Agency, November 25, 1997; “Burundi Sanctions and Regional Trade,” Daily Nation, November 17, 1997; “Businessmen Demand An End to Sanctions Against Burundi,” Pan African News Agency, January 19, 1998. “Tanzania Loses Eight Million Dollars a Year from Burundi Sanctions,” Agence France Presse, June 25, 1998. 137. United Nations, DHA Report on Regional Sanctions Against Burundi (UN: Department of Humanitarian Affairs, December 1997), pp. 10–11; Farhan Haq, “Politics: Regional Sanctions on Burundi Have Failed, UN Says,” Inter Press Service, December 14, 1997; Lisa Schlein, “UN-Burundi,” Voice of America, Correspondent Report 2-224428, December 22, 1997; Clive Mutiso, “Carrot-and-Stick Deal on Burundi Peace Talks,” The East African, 23 December, 1997. 138. “Kampala Summit On Sanctions Against Burundi,” Pan African News Agency, February 21, 1998; Moses Draku, “Regional Leaders Maintain Sanctions On Burundi,” Pan African News Agency, February 22, 1998; Elaine Eliah, “Burundi Sanctions,” Voice of America, Correspondent Report no. 227099, February 21, 1998; “Uganda, Rwanda Split over Burundi Sanctions,” Pan African News Agency, January 19, 1998; Paul Chintowa and Moyiga Nduru, “Burundi-Politics: Ex-Tanzanian Head Seeks to Revive Talks,” Inter Press Service, April 6, 1998. 139. “Burundi: Buyoya Vows Burundi ‘Will Not Crack’ Under Embargo,”FBIS-Afr-98–054, February 23, 1998. See also “Burundi: Burundi’s Buyoya Says France Against Embargo,” FBIS-Afr-98–065, March 6, 1998; “France Supports Burundi’s Demand for Lifting Embargo,” Xinhua News Agency, March 6, 1998; and “Burundi: Buyoya Says Embargo Failing, Views Regional Ties,” FBIS-Afr-98–121, May 1, 1998. 140. Rene Lemarchand, “Burundi at a Crossroads,” p. 52. 141. For accounts of these splits see “Burundi: Inghting Threatens Burundi’s Rebel Movement,” Africa News, April 6, 1998; Neely Tucker, “Burundi Leader to Discuss Plan to End Conict between Tutsis, Hutus,” The Dallas Morning News, May 10, 1998 p. 22A. 142. Jean Baptiste Kayigamba, “Politics-Burundi: Politicians Agree on Constitutional Changes,” Inter Press Service April 30, 1998; “Burundi Parliament Discusses Means To End Violence,” FBIS-Afr-98–079, March 22, 1998. 143. “Burundi: Correspondent Assesses Tanzania ‘Consultations’” FBIS-Afr-98–146, May 23, 1998; Paul Cullen, “Tutsi Military Now Seeks End to Civil War It Cannot Win,” The Irish Times, May 30, 1998, p. 13; Buyoya Urges Support For Transitional Constitution,” Pan African News Agency, June 7, 1998; “Buyoya Appoints Two Vice-Presidents,” Pan African News Agency, June 12, 1998.

160

CHAPTER FOUR

144. See, for instance, Nyerere’s tour of the United States, Switzerland, Canada, and Nigeria in April 1998, and the shuttle diplomacy of EU envoy, Aldo Ajello and US envoy, Howard Wolpe, and UN Secretary General, Ko Annan in the spring of 1998. Paul Chintowa, “Politics-Burundi: Ex-Tanzanian Head Seeks Foreign Help,” Inter Press Service, April 22, 1998; “US Sends Envoy to Burundi to Try to Launch Peace Talks,” Agence FrancePresse, January 9, 1998. 145. The Nyerere mediation team recognized the costs of foreign dependence as one of its reports notes: “It was suggested that the Nyerere Foundation begin to seek funds from the subregional countries and other countries in Africa including the OAU so as to minimize the potential for disruptive inuence from external donors,” cited in “Report of the First Session of the Burundi Peace Negotiations, Arusha, Tanzania, June 21, 1998,” Arusha, Tanzania. On June 24, 1998, the Nyerere Foundation reported the following contributions: $80,000, United Kingdom; $70,000, Germany; $51,000, Norway; $41,000, Canada; $10,000, UNDP; $26,000, Finland; and $20,000, China. 146. Joseph Kithama, “Burundi Rivals to Discuss Power-Sharing,” The East African, June 3–9, 1998. See also Antonie Kaburahe, “Burundi Peace Could Hang on June summit,” Mail and Guardian, June 3, 1998. 147. These parties were: ABASA (Alliance Burundo-Africaine pour le Salut, Burundian-African Alliance for Salvation), ANADDE (Alliance Nationale pour le Droit et le Developpement Economique, National Alliance for Law and Economic Development), AV-INTWARI (Alliance des Vaillants, Alliance of the Brave), FRODEBU (Front pour la Democratie au Burundi, Front for Democracy in Burundi), FROLINA (Front pour la Liberation Nationale, Front for National Liberation), UPRONA (Union pour le Progres National, National Union for Progress), CNDD (Conseil National pour la Defense la Democratie, National Council for the Defense of Democracy), PARENA (Parti pour le Redressement National, Party for National Recovery), PRP Parti pour la Reconciliation du Peuple, Party for Reconciliation of the People), PALIPEHUTU (Parti pour la Liberation du Peuple Hutu du Burundi, Party for the Liberation of the Hutu People), PL (Parti Liberal, Liberal Party), INKINZO (The Shield), PIT (Parti Independante Travallieurs, Independent Party for Workers), PSD (Parti Social Democrate, Party for Social Democracy), PP (Parti du Peuple, People’s Party), RPB (Rassemblement du Peuple Burundais, Rally for the People of Burundi), RADDESS (Rassemblement pour la Democratie, le Developpement Economique et Social, Rally for Democracy, Economic, and Social Development), government and parliamentary representatives. 148. Premy Kibanga, “Differences Derail Plans for Burundi Cease-re,” The East African, June 23–29, 1998. 149. “Communiqué of the Burundi Peace Negotiations Involving the Parties to the Conict,” Arusha, Tanzania, June 21, 1998; and “Draft Rules of Procedure for the Burundi Peace Negotiations Involving all the Parties to the Burundi Conict,” Arusha, Tanzania, June 21, 1998. 150. Chris Simpson, “Politics-Burundi: Talks and Tensions,” Inter Press Service July 2, 1998; Premy Kibanga, “Differences Derail Plans for Burundi Cease-re,” The East African, June 23–29, 1998; Jean Baptiste Kayigamba, “Politics-Burundi: Cloud of Pessimism Hangs Over Peace Task,” Inter Press Service, July 20, 1998; Premy Kibanga, “Talks Begin as Burundi Rivals Agree on Rules, Procedure,” The East African, July 27–August 2, 1998. 151. “Tanzania-Burundi Delegates put Finishing Touches to Burundi Communiqué,” Agence France-Presse, June 20, 1998.

NYERERE MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1995–1999

161

152. “Report of the Special Envoy on the First Session of the Burundi Peace Negotiations, Arusha, June 15–21, 1998,” EU ofce, Arusha, September 9, 1998. In contrast, the Nyerere’s team’s “Report of the First Session of the Burundi Peace Negotiations” noted: “In view of the political interests and diplomatic style [of Western Envoys] as well as their potential for disrupting and undermining the Arusha Peace Process, it was thought necessary that the relationship of the envoys to the Facilitator’s team and peace process be dened. It was further noted that it is not always productive to strategize with them considering that they have their own interests. Being representatives of large countries, they have a tendency to want to dominate and control the process.” 153. See the International Crisis Group, Burundi’s Peace Process: The Road From Arusha (Washington D.C.: IGC Africa Report, July 20, 1998). Note also that well into the Arusha negotiations critics of Nyerere such as Jan van Eck were still reporting that “Arusha is not a neutral venue since Tanzania harbors Burundian rebels who attack Burundi from Tanzanian territory.” He further recommended that “meetings of the plenary and the commissions could take place in different towns and countries.” See his “Burundi Report: External ‘Signals’ Needed to Further Stimulate Internal and External Negotiation Processes,” Arusha, August 3, 1998. 154. “Burundi: Peace Talks Underway in Arusha,” Christian Science Monitor, October 13, 1998. 155. “Report of the Special Envoy on the Second Session of the Burundi Peace Negotiations, Arusha, July 20–29, 1998,” EU Mission, Arusha. See also Premy Kibanga, “Next Round of Burundi Peace Talks to be Held in October,” The East African, August 3–9, 1998; “Burundi: Burundian, Tanzanian Teams Discuss Upcoming Peace Talks,” FBIS-Afr-98–246, September 3, 1998 “Burundi: Burundi Government To Attend Next Round of Peace Talks,” FBIS-Afr-98–272, September 9, 1998. 156. Premy Kibanga “Nyerere Brief is Key to Decision on Burundi,” The East African October 19–25, 1998; “Six Negotiation Rounds Required For Burundi Peace,” Pan African News Agency, November 13, 1998. 157. Ian Fisher, “Seeing End of Sanctions, Burundi Breathes Easier,” Mail and Guardian, January 17, 1999; Gregory Mthembu-Salter, “Burundi Sanctions Likely to End,” Mail and Guardian, December 21, 1998; UN Hosts Donor Meeting On Burundi,” Pan African News Agency, January 12, 1999. 158. Interview, Washington D.C., September 1998. The irony is that the parties that had previously advocated the “broadening and strengthening” of the negotiations to include Burundian civil society were now at the forefront of lambasting the mediator for being too inclusive! 159. “Report of the Second Meeting of Judge Mark Bomani with Members of the Tanzanian Negotiating Team, at Novotel Mount Meru, October 13, 1998,” Arusha. See also FRODEBU’s criticisms in “Inter-Burundian Peace Negotiations in Arusha: Statement by Dr. Habonimana, Vice-President of FRODEBU in Parliament,” Arusha, October 1998. 160. “Report of the Second Meeting of Judge Mark Bomani with Members of the Tanzanian Negotiating Team, at Novotel Mount Meru, October 13, 1998,” Arusha. See also FRODEBU’s criticisms in “Inter-Burundian Peace Negotiations in Arusha: Statement by Dr. Habonimana, Vice-President of FRODEBU in Parliament,” Arusha, October 1998. 161. “No More Procrastination, Nyerere Tells Burundians,” The Guardian, Dar es Salaam, January 20, 1999; Hugh Nevill, “Burundi Delegations Talk Peace Ahead of Summit,” Agence France-Presse, January 19, 1999; “Plenary Burundi Peace Talks Adjourned to June,” Agence France-Presse, January 23, 1999.

162

CHAPTER FOUR

162. “Nyerere Unhappy at Slow Pace of Arusha Talks,” British Broadcasting Corporation, Summary of World Broadcasts, March 19, 1999; “Arusha Talks Slowed Down by “Propaganda,”, Lack of Compromise,” British Broadcasting Corporation, Summary of World Broadcasts, March 19, 1999; Adonia Ayebare, “Buyoya Views over Burundi in the Post-Sanctions Era,” The East African, March 4–11, 1999. 163. Premy Kibanga, “Burundi Negotiators Seek to Speed Up Talks on Peace in Burundi,” The East African, July 19, 1999. 164. One critic conded in an interview in Washington in October 1999: “Nyerere is opposed to Ndayikengurukiye because he learnt his lesson from southern Africa where splits in liberation movements always caused problems. His insistence on unity among the Hutu groups is reminiscent of his role with southern African liberation movements. But in Burundi, he is trying to impose an unrealistic framework. He has never accepted Jean-Bosco . . . He wants to move toward a nal settlement that does not t the realities of Burundi.” 165. Premy Kibanga, “Groupings Undermine Burundi Peace Talks,” The East African, May 28– June 2, 1999; and Premy Kibanga, “Burundi Negotiators Seek to Speed Up Talks on Peace in Burundi,” The East African, July 19, 1999. 166. “Burundi: Nyerere Slams Government as Talks End in Stalemate,” UN OCHA Integrated Regional Information Network for Central and Eastern Africa (IRIN-CEA), July 19, 1999. 167. “Burundi: Nyerere Slams Government as Talks End in Stalemate,” UN OCHA Integrated Regional Information Network for Central and Eastern Africa (IRIN-CEA), July 19, 1999. 168. Alexis Sinduhije, “Burundi Rebels Attack Capital,” Reuters, August 29, 1999; Alexis Sinduhije, “Fighting Rages in Burundi, At Least 12 Dead,” Reuters, August 11, 1999; “Burundi Says Rebel Attacks Hurt Peace Talks,” Reuters, August 30, 1999. 169. “Leading Burundi Rebel Movement Wants Direct Talks with the Regime,” Agence France-Presse, July 13, 1999; Joseph Kithama, “Buyoya Government Seeks Clarication on Rebel Leadership,” The East African, June 29–July 7, 1998; Juliette Hollier-Larousse, “Burundi Government Calls for Talks on Cease-re Plan,” Agence France-Presse, July 22, 1998. 170. “Burundi: Burundians Pack Up after a Week of Talks,” Africa News Service, September 18, 1999. 171. “Burundi Peace Talks: Burundi Peace Talks Restart Amid Mounting Violence,” Fondation Hirondelle, September 13, 1999; “Burundi Peace Talks: Parties Remain Divided on Key Issues,” Fondation Hirondelle, September 20, 1999. 172. “Burundi Peace Talks: Six Big Parties to Meet Again in Dar es Salaam,” Fondation Hirondelle, October 1, 1999; “Burundi Negotiators to Meet for Consultations,” Agence France-Presse, October 1, 1999; “Burundi Peace Talks: “Dar es Salaam Talks Postponed amid Worries for Nyerere,” Fondation Hirondelle, October 5, 1999; “Burundi: Peace Consultations Postponed,” UN OCHA Integrated Regional Information Network for Central and Eastern Africa (IRIN-CEA), October 4, 1999. 173. “Regional Leaders Tell Off Buyoya,” The East African, December 6, 1999. 174. Chris Simpson, “Politics-Tanzania: Nyerere’s Death may Stall Burundi Talks,” Inter Press Service, October 18, 1999. Prunier also claimed that the “committee chairs lacked the historical expertise and sensitivity” to handle sensitive issues. 175. Kristina A. Bentley and Roger Southall, An African Peace Process: Mandela, South Africa, and Burundi (Cape Town: Human Sciences Research Council and the Mandela Foundation, 2005), p. 63.

NYERERE MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1995–1999

163

176. On mediators as innovators see Thomas Princen, Third Party Mediation (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1992), p. 16; and Chester Crocker and others, “Ready for Prime Time: The When, Who, and Why of International Mediation,” Negotiation Journal, vol. 19, no. 3, July 2003, pp. 151–57.

Chapter Five

Mandela Mediates Burundi’s Civil War, 1999–2001 I have always called it the magic of our Facilitators. The rst magic was that of Mwalimu Nyerere who, despite the sometimes murderous differences between the Burundians, managed to guide us, to bring us to the negotiating table and make us talk . . . The magic of Mandela that we have today is to put the Burundians not with their backs to the wall but face to face with the truth. And I think that we are gradually emerging from a certain stupor . . . I think it is starting to produce results.1 Former Burundian President, Sylvester Ntibantunganya, April 2000 Three years ago, we gave the tongs to Mwalimu that he may use his deep and vast knowledge of the problem, his unique qualities as a leader, his wisdom and intellect, and his great stature within the region, the continent, and beyond, with an all inclusive array of political and civic forces to hammer out and mould a framework for durable peace, stability, and security for all in Burundi. Today, Mwalimu is gone, and the tongs are right back in our hands. We have now, in Nelson Mandela, found other equally worthy hands to pass the tongs to. For, there is no alternative to peaceful political negotiations that can produce a new political dispensation that will usher in and underwrite a new and long overdue era of peace, security, and stability in Burundi.2 Tanzanian President, Benjamin Mkapa, December 1999

Introduction This chapter concludes the analysis of elder statesmen in Burundi’s civil war. With a unique international stature, Mandela intervened at a critical moment when, despite the existence of a negotiation process, hurdles still remained and the loss of momentum threatened to impair Nyerere’s diplomatic gains. His entry into the conict coincided with the growing popularity of elder statesmen in mediation because of the yearning for actors who could exude authority

166

CHAPTER FIVE

and demonstrate forcefulness within a larger moral matrix of credibility. The institution of elder statesmanship gained signicance because of the recognition of the international legitimacy and resources it brought to protracted processes of resolving African civil wars. In addition to analyzing Mandela’s role in reaching the Arusha Peace Accord of August 2000, this chapter considers his engagement in the negotiations for transitional institutions and the search for a ceasere following the peace accord. As part of the regional and international commitment to the Burundian process, Mandela’s involvement underscored the world’s determination for a successful transition in Burundi. Finally, the chapter discusses the transition from Mandela’s mediation to ofcial South African mediators, principally the former South African Deputy President, Jacob Zuma. This phase of the analysis reveals the transition from a credible elder statesman to state actors with the ability to commit signicant resources toward conict resolution. South Africa’s ownership of the Burundi mediation and peacekeeping raises questions about the importance of economic and military leadership in furnishing content to African solutions to African problems.

Enter Mandela The initial jockeying for a new mediator reignited the conicts between regional actors and the Buyoya government that had preoccupied Nyerere. From the outset, Buyoya and his coalition partners lobbied vigorously for Mandela to circumvent the region and Tanzania’s partiality toward exiled Hutu parties. In proposing Mandela, the Burundi government noted that Pretoria had an “objective and constructive inuence” in the Great Lakes region and would be “more sensitive” in the settlement of the Burundi conict. Additionally, Buyoya had “a good degree of condence in South Africa’s bona des and capabilities.”3 Most regional leaders organized under the auspices of the Great Lakes Regional Initiative on Burundi, on the other hand, preferred appointing another Tanzanian mediator to provide continuity and guarantee regional ownership of the process. 4 To break the deadlock, there was a proposal to invite former Botswana President Ketumile Masire, but he was ineligible due to his involvement in the OAU commission on the Rwanda genocide. Mandela became the mediator in an eleventh hour compromise that also retained Arusha as the venue and the Nyerere Foundation’s mediation assistance. Buyoya found victory in Mandela, an outsider untainted by internecine Burundi feuds; for regional states, continuing the talks in Arusha was an outcome they could live with since it placated Tanzania and ensured a measure of regional

MANDELA MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1999–2001

167

control. This compromise coalesced about the notion of an African mediator with Mandela’s standing who would breathe life into the peace process.5 This is why Mandela’s promoters saw him as an elder statesman with a track record of reconciliation and commitment to inclusive political settlements. Regional actors saw Mandela’s mediation as a continuation of African efforts to manage their own affairs as Museveni noted: “The initiative on Burundi must succeed so that regional problems are solved by homemade solutions, failure of which will encourage outside intervention that would lead to the proliferation of conicts in the region.”6 In Mandela, the former President Ntibantunganya argued, “Burundians had found a strong man in Africa versed in local and international affairs. Mandela is highly respected in his country, in Africa and in international circles. He has negotiated in his country a situation very much like the one in Burundi.”7 Further, as Bentley and Southall observe: It was precisely his reputation as a reconciler of opposites which was to make him [Mandela] the obvious person to carry on from where Julius Nyerere had left off, and to speed the Arusha process toward a conclusion. But whereas Nyerere’s approach had been intrinsically intellectual, urging the belligerents toward a given course of action through logic and reason, Mandela’s style was to be more down to earth, even impatient, and more forceful in pushing the warring parties toward an agreement.8

Ikaweba Bunting, one of the team members of the Nyerere Foundation also noted the differences in style between the two: Mwalimu Nyerere would literally spend hours listening to all of the parties and individuals involved in the conict. He let them vent their anger and hostilities and gradually moved them to a position of consensus . . . But by the time of Mwalimu’s death last year there was no more to discuss: it was time for movement and compromise on concrete issues. When the region appointed Madiba as facilitator, he came not as the patient Mwalimu (‘teacher’) but as a freedom ghter with the moral authority bought with 27 years in prison to demand that the military relinquish power and that the minority shares with the majority. He was uncompromising on issues of justice and morality.9

While all the parties welcomed Mandela’s mediation, there were conicting positions on his relationships with the Nyerere Foundation.10 Widespread criticisms of Nyerere’s heavy-handedness during the mediation led to the demands for a more broad-based mediation initiative that was accountable and transparent. Critics of Nyerere such as the International Crisis Group saw Mandela’s entry as an opportunity for international actors to assert more control over the mediation since: “Previously, the international community unquestioningly allowed Nyerere to handle the Burundi peace process and disregarded the

168

CHAPTER FIVE

Burundi government’s reservations toward him.”11 From the outset, the Buyoya government urged Mandela to revisit the methodology, management, and substance of the negotiations, with respect to the inclusion of the CNDD-FDD. Rebel participation was necessary to reverse the priorities of the negotiations toward a cease-re because, as the government had argued, Nyerere’s mediation had focused on a political settlement at the expense of a military ceasere.12 The smaller political parties urged Mandela to depart from Nyerere’s “favoritism and arbitrary division of the parties to the negotiations into two categories” and condemned the Dar es Salaam consultations of major parties as a “divisive undertaking” and a “blatant and deliberate deviation from the Arusha peace negotiations.”13 When he assumed his role in January 2000, Mandela acknowledged the difculties he would confront: “A person who has a delicate skin and frail nerves should never accept an assignment of this nature. There are going to be a lot of rough times ahead.” Mandela signaled an early departure from Nyerere on the issue of all-inclusive talks, stressing that rebel groups would no longer be ignored: “We cannot sideline anybody who can create instability in the country and so we must nd ways of accommodating them in these discussions either by inviting them to join or by addressing them separately . . . The process must be all-inclusive, otherwise there can be no guarantee that the decision of the 18 parties, even if it is unanimous, will be respected by the armed groups on the ground.”14 At the same time, he berated Burundian parties for failing their people by lacking the commitment and urgency to end the war: Please join the modern world. Why do you allow yourselves to be regarded as leaders without talent, leaders without vision? Why are you lagging behind? When people in the West hear about the daily killings and massacres they say ‘Africans are still barbarians no human being could do what they are doing.’ The fact that women, children and the aged are being slaughtered every day is an indictment against all of you.15

Apart from admonishing the parties, Mandela used his rst plenary session in Arusha to suggest how to overcome some of the stumbling blocs in committee negotiations. First, amnesty, he noted, was “the key to security, an issue we must address heads on if we are going to succeed in peace and reconciliation . . . Let us forget the past, let us think of the present, let us think of the future.” Second, Hutu rebel ghters, “should be integrated into the army, rather than civil society, because we do not want the army to be drawn from one ethnic group, the Tutsis . . . The army must represent all the people of the country.” Third, elections should not be held until everything has been discussed and settled in Arusha.” Fourth, a transitional regime “should not remain in place

MANDELA MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1999–2001

169

for more than ve years . . . Its leadership should be determined collectively, in the framework of the Arusha talks.” Lastly, the property rights of returning refugees for example “must be seriously considered.”16 Invoking the triple themes of inclusiveness, trust, and forgiveness, allowed Mandela to put his own imprimatur on the negotiations.17 In the same vein, he disabused Buyoya and his allies of blanket South African support for their positions. For instance, at the February 2000 Arusha session, Mandela enraged predominantly Tutsi parties by calling for an end to Tutsi control of politics, commerce, and the military: “One of the critical issues is that a minority of 15 percent of the population could go on monopolizing political, economic and military power . . . As long as we have this situation, peace and stability cannot be achieved. And the leaders must bite the bullet and address this question.”18 Even though Mandela balanced these remarks with harsh condemnation of Hutu rebels as “barbarians and terrorists,” eight Tutsi parties led by UPRONA threatened to withdraw from the talks, accusing Mandela of partiality to Hutus: “The thesis [of Tutsi dominance] is likely to seriously compromise the rest of the negotiations, because it panders to the extremist tendencies among the Hutu parties to the talks, who already see themselves as the winners of the negotiations.”19 Mandela injected new optimism in a process that was weighed down with regional and international fatigue. As Mthembu-Salter observed: “Mandela made an explosive impact in Arusha, injecting some much-needed momentum into a process characterized of late by a distinctly unproductive atmosphere of mutual suspicion and inertia.”20 Drawing on moral authority, personal stature, and unrivalled international prestige, Mandela took leadership of the negotiations. Using his diplomatic skills and prestige, he refocused international attention on Burundi, mobilizing international pressures to lend legitimacy and nancial backing to his efforts. At the UN Security Council session in January 2000 that condemned the Burundian government’s policy of regroupment camps, Mandela lobbied for moderate language that would not alienate Buyoya. According to one observer, this action earned Mandela the government’s condence.21 Secondly, he extended invitations to world leaders to pay more attention to the Arusha talks. This resulted in President Bill Clinton’s televised address at the start of the February plenary session.22 The effect of Mandela’s international campaign was, according to one account, “to give the peace process an international prole which it had previously lacked, and thereby raise the cost to Burundian politicians of their being awkward and intractable.”23

170

CHAPTER FIVE

Inching Toward an Agreement The February–March 2000 negotiations built on Mandela’s momentum and his preference for holding more bilateral talks with all parties than Nyerere did to break deadlocks. As a result, by the end of March 2000, the rst and fourth committees completed their deliberations. The rst committee on the root causes of past conicts reached agreement on an international committee of inquiry into genocide and crimes against humanity and a national Truth and Reconciliation Commission. The fourth committee dealing with economic reconstruction recommended the creation of an inter-ministerial group that would draft an emergency reconstruction plan for donor funding. It also proposed the creation of a national commission for the rehabilitation of returned refugees that would handle questions of claims to land and compensation for lost property.24 The remaining groups also made progress on some agenda items. In the second committee on transitional institutions, the mediators proposed several compromises that were adopted as a working document. Of signicance was agreement on a three-year transition government of national unity that would include representatives of the different political parties, designation of the President and Vice-President, and a transitional parliament that would approve a nal constitution within two years. Furthermore, they agreed to create an all-party commission to propose reforms of the judicial and administrative systems to correct ethnic imbalances, and an independent electoral committee that would oversee local, national parliamentary and presidential elections.25 Likewise, in the third committee, the mediators proposed ways to resolve questions of demobilization and integration of rebel forces into a new national army that would be under the transitional government’s authority. The army would be composed of serving soldiers and Hutu rebel groups, excluding elements found guilty of genocide or war crimes. The agreement stipulated the participation of external military advisors in a multiparty committee that would oversee the military reforms, demobilization, and reintegration processes.26 When the parties seemed to slacken in their deliberations, Mandela, in a mediating style that blended censure and praise, toughness and exibility, shamed them, charging that the Burundian rebels seemed more serious about peace than the groups in Arusha: “I am sorry to say this, but in very important respects the Minister of Defense and the senior military ofcers appeared far ahead of the thinking of political parties here. They stand head and shoulders above all of you here put together, because of what they said to me. The same with the rebel groups.”27 In the same vein, while counseling Buyoya to “have to have the courage and strength of character to bite the bullet and

MANDELA MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1999–2001

171

create conditions” for the release of political prisoners, Mandela castigated those who claimed that Buyoya came to power through a coup d’etat: “I am not interested in how he came to power. There are some things he must do and I have made that clear. But as long as he is President of Burundi he must be respected.”28 At the end of the March 2000 negotiations, Mandela submitted a 200-page draft agreement that synthesized the work of negotiating committees. To underline the need for an expeditious process, Mandela gave the delegates three weeks to analyze the document and propose comments and amendments. Thereafter, he warned, “we will decide which comments to accept. There will be many we will not be able to accept. You must now, after that, leave this matter entirely to the facilitation team. Then what they come up with we must all accept.”29 After acrimonious debates about who would the chairman of the fth committee to negotiate how to guarantee the peace agreement, the parties decided that it would be chaired by Mandela, with the assistance of a committee comprising the chairmen, and vice-chairmen of the other four committees.30 By April 2000, all parties had made their suggestions on the draft proposals, allowing the mediation team to begin drafting the nal agreement.31 As a result, the priority shifted to obtaining the participation of rebel groups, which continued to hold up negotiations of a ceasere and army integration.32 Following a visit to Burundi in April 2000, in which Mandela held discussions on the Arusha talks with the Burundi army high command, there was a breakthrough on the army integration question. Thus, alongside fth committee meetings, Mandela brought government delegates and representatives of rebel groups together for a meeting in Johannesburg on May 23–25. To facilitate discussions of the pending security questions, the Johannesburg talks included the Burundi military and armed Hutu groups, PALIPEHUTU-FNL (Forces Nationales de liberation) and CNDD-FDD.33 As the Mandela team prepared for a peace agreement in June 2000, there was a shift in the attitude of Burundian parties signaled by a joint declaration of leading Hutu and Tutsi parties, FRODEBU and PARENA calling for an international peacekeeping force to oversee the peace agreement: “We want to calm people’s fears in Burundi . . . We want them to understand that it is not a question of being re-colonized. Such a force would be a good thing, because it would be part of a series of negotiated guarantees for the implementation of the peace accord.”34 With most committees having completed their deliberations, Mandela submitted a 200-page draft agreement that synthesized the work of negotiating committees in June 2000. He also obtained Buyoya’s commitment to dismantle the regroupment camps by July 31, 2000.35 Consistent with his approach of setting strict rules and deadlines,36 Mandela invited the parties to a signing

172

CHAPTER FIVE

ceremony in Arusha on August 28, 2000 even though some parties still had not accepted key provisions in the draft agreement. Moreover, there was neither agreement on who would lead the transitional government nor a ceasere with the rebels. With a tentative deal on the table he invited world leaders, including President Bill Clinton, to attend the ceremony, judging that neither side would ignore the regional and international dignitaries.37 In a game of brinkmanship, Buyoya and the majority of Tutsi parties initially refused to sign, demanding that no transition to multi- ethnic rule could begin until a cease-re had been signed with Hutu rebels. They also asked for changes to the agreement to delay the inauguration of the threeyear transitional institutions. In Clinton’s presence, Mandela berated the Tutsi parties for “sabotaging” the peace process for self-serving reasons: “There is a section of the leadership which does not care for the slaughter of innocent people . . . They were cosseted by riches and had lost touch with the realities of the civil war. I doubt there are leaders like that in any part of the world. They do not want peace. They want to drag out these negotiations for eternity.” In contrast, he lauded the Hutu parties as “men of honesty and integrity,” and agreed with the rebel’s position not to sign an agreement until the peace process was “irreversible.”38 In the end, Mandela’s deadline and the presence of foreign leaders forced a compromise that led 14 of the 19 parties to sign the Arusha Accord for Peace and Reconciliation. The Accord’s purpose was to lock the sides into a framework from which peace could gradually grow. It provided for a three-year transition period, leading to a return to democracy. The transition government was mandated to oversee judicial and institutional reforms and to ensure ethnic balance in military and police. Before the elections ending the transition period, the constitution would be put to a referendum. To help in the transition, the agreement proposed the deployment of international peacekeepers.39 In November 2000, the Arusha Accord created the International Monitoring Committee (IMC) chaired by Berhanu Dinka, representative of the UN Secretary-General in the Great Lakes region. Tasked with overseeing the Arusha Accord, the 29-member IMC included representatives of the 19 Burundian signatories to the peace accord, six members of Burundian civil society, and one representative each from the OAU, the Great Lakes region, and the EU. The IMC helped establish commissions on political prisoners, refugee repatriation and reintegration, and launched “sensitization campaigns” to publicize the peace accord.40 The quick launching of the IMC before the start of the implementation of the major provisions of the Arusha accord demonstrated signicant international commitment to the Burundian peace and helped in building condence among the parties. In December 2000, Mandela also chaired

MANDELA MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1999–2001

173

an international donor conference that pledged $440 million for Burundi’s reconstruction. The aid was conditional on the establishment of a transitional institution, the choice of its leaders, and cessation of hostilities.41

Mediation after the Arusha Accord After the signing of the Arusha Peace Accord, Mandela continued to use the moral suasion, strong-arm tactics, and international pressure to negotiate transitional institutions and a ceasere. He also relied on the regional summit of heads of state to inuence major decisions on Burundi’s future. In negotiations on transitional institutions, Mandela initially insisted that the Burundian parties take the lead in choosing their leaders. Between August 2000 and February 2001, however, the parties held more than three rounds of talks in Arusha without reaching an agreement on the outstanding issues about the transition. From the outset, fragmentation along ethnic and regional lines characterized the bargaining process, yielding a paralysis that threatened to undo gains made at Arusha. The battle lines over transitional leaders converged about the split between the “Group of Seven” (G7) pro-Hutu parties that backed Domitien Ndayizeye, the Secretary General, FRODEBU, the largest opposition party, for the presidency for the entire three-year transitional period. Tutsi parties, on the other hand, organized as the Group of Six” (G6), backed, former Interior Minister Colonel Epitace Bayaganakandi. These two candidates challenged President Buyoya, who was backed by UPRONA, the largest pro-Tutsi party, the government, and National Assembly.42 To Mandela, the installation of a Hutu president was unsettling given the fragility of the transition and the need to guarantee the support of the Tutsi military. As one analyst commented: “You cannot have a revolution during a transition, it won’t work.” Similarly, he was wary of attempts to unseat Buyoya because of the uncertainties about the ability of the parties to work together to implement the peace accord. A failed coup attempt against Buyoya in April 2001 only served to demonstrate the precariousness of the transition. As a result of these misgivings, Mandela mediated compromises on transitional institutions. At a summit of regional leaders in February 2001, Mandela suggested that the three-year transition be split into two 18-month periods, the rst to be led by a Tutsi president and Hutu vice-president, who then would swap roles during the second period. He also recommended that the Tutsi candidate be chosen by Tutsi parliamentary parties and the Hutu candidate by Hutu parties.43 Similarly, in the face of deadlock among the parties over the candidates for these positions, Mandela announced a compromise in July 2001 that retained

174

CHAPTER FIVE

Buyoya as President, and a Hutu, Domitien Ndayizeye, as Vice-President. As a price for this position, Mandela imposed eleven conditions on Buyoya: implement all the peace agreement’s provisions; include representatives of all the signatory parties in the transitional government; invite the international community to provide troops and peacekeepers to strengthen security and protect political leaders returning from exile; reform the Tutsi-dominated army by integrating armed groups and Hutus into it; cooperate with the UN High Commissioner for Burundian refugees and the resettlement of internally displaced persons; offer full protection to all political leaders, especially those returning from exile; refrain from engaging in acts of victimization of political opponents; release political prisoners; cooperate with the IMC; vacate ofce at the end of the 18-month period; and make these commitments before a regional summit.44 According to the International Crisis Group, the key to the breakthrough was a change in approach to the negotiations by Mandela’s mediation team: This time priority was given to the negotiations between Pierre Buyoya’s Union pour le progrès national (Union for national progress, UPRONA) and Jean Minani’s Front pour la démocratie au Burundi (Front for Democracy in Burundi, FRODEBU), which must now become the driving forces of the peace process. The previous cycle of negotiations, based on the ction of discussions between nineteen equal parties, is nally over. The key transition partners, UPRONA and FRODEBU, must face their responsibilities. The success of the transition will depend on their cooperation. And with the issue of the transitional leadership nally sorted out, the negotiators will have no choice but to focus on the central issue of the peace process: the reform of the armed forces.45

In July 2001, Buyoya accepted these conditions. Regional leaders who warned him that of sanctions if he reneged on the agreement: “In the event that the president of the transitional government fails to fulll the conditions agreed to, the regional leaders will take all necessary measures, including sanctions to ensure compliance. The region will also approach the United Nations Security Council and the international community at large to support the above measures.”46 On July 25, 2001 the UN Security Council endorsed the agreement on the transitional leadership in Burundi and supported the establishment of a transitional government.47 Finally, with Burundian parties unable to set up a special army unit of Tutsis and Hutus to protect returning exiled leaders, Mandela prevailed on the South African government to provide a 700-man force. This agreement signed in Pretoria in October 2001 paved the way for the inauguration of the transitional government on November 1, 2001.48 Despite resistance from Tutsi parties and the Burundian army, South Africa provided the leadership for the deployment of a peacekeeping force that also included troops from Mozambique and Ethiopia, constituting the initial phase of the African Union Mission in Burundi (AMIB). Reyntjens has underscored Mandela’s

MANDELA MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1999–2001

175

role in the deployment: “In order to make the [accord] work, he [Mandela] twisted the arm of a cautious Thabo Mbeki and the reluctant South African military: the deployment of a peacekeeping force was one of the cornerstone to the implementation of the accord.”49 Overshadowing the progress on transitional institutions was the slow pace of ceasere negotiations between the government and rebels. Mandela initiated separate talks with the CNDD-FDD leader, Ndayikengurukiye, and, Kabura Cossana, the leader of the National Liberation Forces (FNL) starting in March 2000. But serious negotiations did not begin until January 2001.50 Preoccupied with mediation for the transitional institutions, Mandela ceded the responsibility for mediating the ceasere talks to South Africa’s Deputy President Jacob Zuma. The latter brought renewed energy and vigor to what became a grueling shuttle diplomatic effort.51 The transition to Zuma coincided with the demands by some rebels for the inclusion of Gabonese President Omar Bongo as a co-mediator. Although Bongo had hosted and had participated in some of the negotiations, there had been a perception that the rebels wanted to pry the mediation away from South Africa, playing off English and French-speaking mediators. With the potential of Bongo’s meddling becoming a source of tension between South Africa and Gabon to the detriment of the Burundi peace process, Mandela counseled against the alienation of Bongo.52 In January and April 2001, Bongo hosted the rst face-to-face talks between Buyoya and the CNDD-FDD leader Ndayikengurukiye in Gabon at which the Burundi parties agreed to start ceasere talks with the CNDD-FDD. During a July 2001 meeting in Pretoria, Zuma and Bongo, mediated the establishment of technical committees between the Burundi government and the CNDD-FDD to cover the key aspects a ceasere. In yet another promising meeting in Pretoria in October 2001, the CNDD-FDD and FNL met for the rst time with the Burundi government and all the political parties that had signed the Arusha Accord. However, continued rebel attacks on Bujumbura and further splits in the two rebel movements nullied these hopeful signs. In February 2001, an FNL faction led by Agathon Rwasa deposed its leader, Kossan Kabura, accusing him of negotiating without a mandate. Later that year, Rwasa was engulfed in an internecine conict with Alain Mugabarabona over the control of the FNL. In October 2001, the CNDD-FDD faced the same fate when Pierre Nkurunziza replaced Ndayikengurukiye.53 When Burundi began the rst phase of the transition under Buyoya on November 1, 2001, there were expectations among the mediators that a broadbased government would have more legitimacy in the eyes of Hutu rebels and thus increase chances of a ceasere.54 But the splits in rebel movements slowed the task of reaching agreement. These difculties were also occasioned by the

176

CHAPTER FIVE

unresolved political differences among the signatories to the Arusha Accord. Most Hutu parties preferred technical ceasere negotiations that would integrate the rebels into the army so that the rebel leaders would not become political competitors for the Hutu electorate. Other signatories perceived the ceasere negotiations as an opportunity to reopen talks on the distribution of key government positions. For their part, the rebel groups saw the Arusha process as illegitimate and wished to revisit major provisions of the Accord. They further hoped that military pressure would increase their bargaining power to allow renegotiating all aspects of the Accord.55 Coordinating with regional leaders to continue pressuring the parties, Zuma and Bongo sought to engage the fragmented rebel factions in separate negotiations that would gradually build the momentum for peace. Following ceasere talks in Dar es Salaam in June and July 2002 between the transitional government, the CNDD-FDD’s Nkurunziza, and the FNL, a team of South African, Gabonese, Tanzanian, and UN mediators drafted a ceasere agreement that also included a timetable for negotiating the details of the agreement. This draft constituted the framework for three weeks of negotiations in August 2002 in South Africa between the government, Ndayikengurukiye’s CNDD-FDD faction and a smaller FNL faction led by Alain Mugabarabona.56 In one of the rst breakthroughs, the transitional government and the CNDDFDD faction lead by Ndayikengurukiye signed a memorandum of understanding in Dar es Salaam in August 2002. As Zuma remarked, the ceasere agreement “moves the peace process one step forward towards securing a comprehensive ceasere agreement involving the government and all three rebel movements.”57 Similarly, at a regional summit in Arusha October 2002, Mugarabona’s faction signed a ceasere agreement with the government. The regional summit also decided that “Ndayikengurukiye’s CNDD-FDD, Mugarabona’s FNL, and other armed groups that sign the ceasere agreement should be integrated into the transitional institutions and organs of state, including the army and other security forces.”58 Furthermore, the regional leaders gave the remaining rebels a one-month deadline to reach agreement, threatening to take appropriate measures against the recalcitrant parties.” The agreements with the two rebel movements combined with regional pressure generated new ceasere talks between the government and Nkurunziza’s CNDD-FDD faction beginning in October 2002. After further mediation by Zuma, the transitional government reached agreement with Nkurunziza in December 2002 committing both parties to a ceasere as a rst step in negotiations on political and military issues. In January 27, 2003 the two sides reiterated their commitment to hasten the negotiations by agreeing to convene

MANDELA MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1999–2001

177

meetings of the technical commissions. The Pretoria meeting also agreed on AMIB’s deployment.59 AMIB’s deployment in the absence of a ceasere with the main rebel group added more pressure to Nkurunziza and Rwasa’s FNL faction. With a mandate to supervise the ceasere, create the conditions for a UN deployment, and facilitate disarmament and demobilization, AMIB’s April 2003 deployment strengthened the transitional government, particularly at a time when power changed from Buyoya to Hutu president Ndayizeye as prescribed in the Arusha Accord.60 Following the peaceful transition, Zuma stepped up the mediation effort to resolve the remaining differences between the government and Nkurunziza. During a regional summit in Dar es Salaam in July 2003, there was agreement that the transitional government would nalize a power sharing plan to integrate the CNDD-FDD into transitional institutions and both parties nalized the negotiations on the reform of armed forces as preliminary steps to a ceasere. In subsequent negotiations, Ndayizeye and Nkurunziza narrowed their differences and signed an agreement in October 2003 called the Pretoria Protocol on Political, Defense, and Security Power Sharing in Burundi. The agreement paved the way for the inclusion of the CNDD-FDD into the transitional institutions and included the following main provisions: the CNDD-FDD was offered four ministerial positions, including Minister of State for Good Governance who would be third in seniority after the president and vice-president; 15 seats in parliament plus the position of vice-presidency and deputy secretary-general; three provincial governorships, two ambassadorial posts, and 30 local government administrative posts; 40 per cent of the ofcers in the new national army, although the allocation of command posts would be shared equally between the Hutu and Tutsi; 40 per cent of the positions in the new police force; and amnesty for its leaders and combatants.61 Hailed as the most signicant development in the peace process since the Arusha Accord, the Pretoria agreement culminated the relentless efforts that Mandela had established. As Bentley and Southall note, the agreement was reached “after three extremely tough negotiating sessions, during which Mbeki and Zuma applied major pressure and particularly to Nkurunziza, who was forced into major concessions.”62 The CNDD-FDD agreement ushered a period of relative stability despite sporadic FNL attacks around Bujumbura. During a UN Security Council meeting in December 2003, Zuma stated that the Burundi peace process had entered a “decisive and irreversible state.”63 In May 2004, the UN Security Council authorized the transformation of AMIB into the United Nations Operation in Burundi (ONUB), a 5,650-military force to monitor the ceasere, contribute to

178

CHAPTER FIVE

demobilization, disarmament, and reintegration, and assist in the organization of elections. With ONUB’s deployment, Zuma and regional leaders concentrated on mediating negotiations for a new constitution, culminating in a constitutional compromise in Pretoria in early August 2004.64 Later in the month, a regional summit endorsed a power-sharing deal that formed the basis for a new constitution that was approved by referendum in February 2005. Building on the Arusha Accord and subsequent agreements, the constitution became a political compromise that combined democracy with guarantees for the Tutsi minority. The new constitution also offered guarantees to both ethnic groups by setting out the share of posts in parliament, government, and the army. Throughout the negotiations for the constitution, Zuma and regional leaders opposed attempts by Tutsi parties to reject key aspects of the constitution, and subsequently, efforts by President Ndayizeye to amend the constitution and postpone the electoral process.65 Following a six-month extension of the transitional institutions, Burundi held local and communal elections June 2005, giving Nkurunziza’s CNDD-FDD 55 per cent of the seats. In the July 2005 parliamentary elections, the CNDD-FDD won 58 per cent of the seats, with FRODEBU coming second with 22 per cent and URONA third with 7 per cent. With a majority in parliament, Nkurunziza was elected president in August 2005, marking the successful conclusion of the transitional period. Concurrently, security sector reforms gave the CNDD-FDD 40 per cent of the positions in the army.66 On the eve of his inauguration, President Nkurunziza vowed to continue the efforts to reach out to the FNL that had began under Ndayizeye in January 2004.67 Contributing to the impetus for peace was the FNL’s increasing marginalization and pressure from regional leaders. On September 7, 2005, the government signed a Comprehensive Ceasere Agreement with the FNL in Dar es Salaam in which Rwasa pledged to end rebel activities. With the return to stability, the UN reached an agreement with the Burundian authorities to end ONUB’s mission in December 2006. The United Nations Integrated Ofce in Burundi (Bureau integre des Nations unies au Burundi, BINUB) succeeded the ONUB. Its mission was to support government efforts toward long-term stability and democratic governance.

Conclusion: Assessing Mandela’s Mediation Lieberfeld has argued that Mandela exhibited contrasting yet compatibly integrated qualities: “The traits that make Mandela an effective integrative mediator – such as self-condence, expertise in persuasive debate, patience and

MANDELA MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1999–2001

179

persistence, self-control, authoritative bearing, emphatic capacities, and ability to win others’ condence and respect – also make him a formidable positional negotiator when combined with his competitive orientation, toughness, and ability to use emotions tactically.”68 Displayed throughout Mandela’s mediation in Burundi, these characteristics encapsulate some facets of organizational power, particularly the creative deployment of the force of personality to sustain a difcult negotiating process. At the heart of these qualities was the moral authority and stature that enabled Mandela to exert leverage over the parties. Equally signicant was Mandela’s anchorage in international and regional sources of pressure. Treading in Nyerere’s footsteps, but transcending the Tanzanian baggage that had dodged Nyerere, Mandela was more effective in drawing international attention to Burundi’s plight during decisive moments in the peacemaking process. Likewise, Mandela appealed to key Burundian parties by virtue of relative geographic isolation from the conict. But at the same time he worked in partnership with the Great Lakes Regional Initiative on Burundi, and thereby retaining the regional institutional support that had underpinned Nyerere’s intervention. In managing the regional and international contexts of power during the mediation, Mandela learnt from Nyerere’s aws and evolved new relationships with diverse actors from these environments. Although Mandela’s mediation yielded the Arusha Accord and set in motion the negotiations for sturdy institutions of national governance and reconciliation, it is more accurate to see the outcome as the coalescence of cumulative steps that previous intervention bids had prepared. From this perspective, there are continuities in the contributions of Nyerere, Mandela, and Zuma as all these initiatives built on each other. As Lemarchand observes: The Arusha process, beginning in June 1998 and culminating with the Peace and Reconciliation Agreement of August 2000, had too many aws to be called a success; yet, the present power sharing compromise would not have materialized without the long-drawn-out preliminary negotiations that went on in Arusha from 1998 to 2000. The aim, briey stated, was to nd a lasting solution to the civil war and lay the foundation for a transitional government that would incorporate representatives of the principal parties and factions . . . Even more worthy of attention are the positive aspects of the Arusha talks. To begin with, the key features of the consociational compromise included in the post-transition constitution were worked out in Protocol II of the Arusha agreement, with only minor changes. Furthermore, and of crucial signicance, it was during Arusha negotiations that the rst steps were taken towards a mixed security force, as well as the decision to reach ethnic parity in the composition of the armed forces. Moreover, despite all the problems posed by the sheer numbers of political groups at the negotiating table, the result has been the unprecedented depolarization of the political arena . . .69

180

CHAPTER FIVE

The transition from Mandela to Zuma demonstrated how an elder statesman with the credibility that owed from the force of personality and leadership record paved the way for the entry of a powerful national mediator. Mandela’s mediation propelled South Africa’s emergence as a leading player in the Great Lakes region with the determination to underwrite a successful outcome. Zuma’s efforts in the latter phase of the negotiations and South Africa’s deployment of a peacekeeping force underscored the determination to complete the process that had Mandela’s imprimatur. Elder statesmen have proliferated in mediation of African conicts. They can learn from the experiences of Nyerere and Mandela in the stewardship of the Burundi negotiations. Like other African mediators, elder statesmen are called upon to manage conicts that no longer attract the attention of distant Western actors. But resolving these conicts requires mediators who are prepared and persistent and who can innovate in these roles with meager resources. The Burundi case demonstrates that to be effective, elder statesmen hoping to inuence parties in polarized conicts need the cultural and normative power of suasion and force of argument. They also have to be adept at mobilizing diverse forms of national, regional, and international leverage.

Notes 1. “Burundi Peace Delegates say Last Negotiating Round was Positive,” Fondation Hirondelle, April 2, 2000. 2. Fumbuka Ng’wanakilala, “Burundi Peace Process: Summit Names Mandela as Successor to Mwalimu,” The Guardian (Dar es Salaam), December 2, 1999. 3. “Burundi Seeks UN Help in Replacing Mediator Nyerere,” Agence France-Presse, October 22, 1999; Premy Kibanga, “Nyerere’s Death a Blow to Peace in Africa,” The EastAfrican, October 27–November 2, 1999; “Burundi Peace Talks: Burundi Parties Welcome Mandela as Mediator,” Fondation Hirondelle, December 1, 1999. 4. “Burundi Peace Talks: Summit to Choose Burundi Peace Mediator Set for December 1, 1999,” Fondation Hirondelle, November 25, 1999; Ciugu Mwagiru, “Burundi Coalition in Bid to Inuence Talks,” The EastAfrican, December 1–7, 1999. According to Bentley and Southall, An African Peace Process: Mandela, South Africa and Burundi (Cape Town: Human Resources Council and the Mandela Foundation, 2005), p. 72: “Initially there was some effort to elevate Judge Bomani to the role of mediator; partly to secure the reputation of Nyerere, and partly to ensure their own interests. Although highly respected, Bomani suffered from the same disadvantages as Nyerere in that many Tutsi groups considered him biased against them.” 5. Fumbuka Ng’wanakilala, “Burundi Peace Process: Summit Names Mandela as Successor to Mwalimu,” The Guardian (Dar es Salaam), December 2, 1999. 6. “Burundi Opposition Group Prefers Tanzanian,” The Guardian, November 13, 1999. 7. “Burundi: IRIN Focus on Mandela Mediation,” UN Integrated Regional Information Network for Central and Eastern Africa (IRIN-CEA), December 7, 1999.

MANDELA MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1999–2001

181

8. Kristina A. Bentley and Roger Southall, An African Peace Process: Mandela, South Africa, and Burundi, pp. 68–69. 9. Ikaweba Bunting, “Mwalimu, Mandela and the Long Road to Peace,” New Internationalist, Issue 326, August 2000. 10. Gregory Mthembu-Salter, “Burundi Peace Talks on Track,” Mail and Guardian, March 10, 2000, noted at the start of Mandela’s mediation, “The worsening relationship between the Nyerere foundation and the Burundi government will require careful handling by Mandela if he is to retain Tanzanian support without alienating the Burundian regime.” 11. An ICG spokesman as cited in “Burundi: IRIN Focus on the Arusha Summit,” UN Integrated Regional Information Network for Central and Eastern Africa (IRIN-CEA), November 26, 1999. 12. “Burundi Peace Delegates Urge Mandela to Help them Find Peace,” Fondation Hirondelle, January 17, 2000. 13. “Burundi Peace Delegates Urge Mandela to Help them Find Peace,” Fondation Hirondelle, January 17, 2000. 14. “Burundi: IRIN Focus on Mandela Mediation,” UN Integrated Regional Information Network for Central and Eastern Africa (IRIN-CEA), December 7, 1999. 15. “Mandela Slams Burundi’s ‘Failed’ Leaders,” British Broadcasting Corporation, Summary of World News, January 16, 2000; David Gough, “Mandela Hits Out at Burundi’s Warring Leaders,” Mail and Guardian, January 17, 2000; Ian Fisher, “Warring Sides in Burundi Get a Scolding,” New York Times, January 17, 2000. 16. Anthony Morland, “Mandela Begins New Role as Mediator in Burundi Conict,” Agence France-Presse, January 16, 2000; “Mandela Wins Ovation for Burundi Peace Recipe,” Agence France-Presse, January 16, 2000. In a poignant moment after visiting a prison in June 2000, Mandela asked senior Tutsi army ofcers to support his call for the release of political prisoners. “You can’t have peace if you have people like I saw today. You’re not properly civilized if you don’t know how to treat your own people. Even though I am your friend and a friend of President Buyoya, I think it is totally unacceptable. If you continue that system, please don’t call yourselves Christians.” See “Burundi Peace Talks: Mandela Steps up Pressure for Burundi to Release Political Prisoners,” Fondation Hirondelle, June 13, 2000. 17. Daniel Lieberfeld, “Nelson Mandela: Partisan and Peacemaker,” Negotiation Journal, vol. 19, no. 3, July 2003, pp. argues that Mandela’s force of personality allowed him to combine effectively two seemingly contradictory traits of partisan negotiator and mediator. 18. Emmanuel Giroud, “Burundi Peace Depends on Ending Tutsi Power Monopoly: Mandela,” Agence France-Presse, February 21, 2000; “Mandela’s Idea Of Tutsi, Hutu Power Sharing Hailed,” Pan African News Agency, February 22, 2000. 19. Alfred Ngotezi, “Walkout Threat as Burundi Talks Resume,” The EastAfrican, February 28, 2000. Responding to the charge that Mandela’s statement was attributable to the lingering inuence of the Nyerere Foundation, a member of Mandela’s delegation remarked: “We are not going to stand this nonsense. Mandela is not a small boy. He cannot be misled. That’s where the insult lies,” see “Burundi Peace Talks: Tutsi Parties Hit Out at Mandela,” Fondation Hirondelle, February 23, 2000. 20. Gregory Mthembu-Salter, “Burundi Peace Talks on Track,” Mail and Guardian, March 10, 2000. 21. Interview, Washington, D.C., November 19, 2001. 22. Buchizya Mseteka, “Mandela Says UN Criticism of Burundi Justied,” Mail and Guardian, January 24, 2000; Robert Holloway, “Burundi’s Regroupment Practice under Fire at

182

23. 24. 25. 26.

27. 28.

29.

30.

31.

32. 33.

34. 35.

36.

CHAPTER FIVE

UN,” Agence France-Presse, January 15, 2000; “Mandela, at U.N., Spotlights Burundi’s Civil War,” Associated Press, January 19, 2000; Barbara Crossette, “Mandela Asks for Assistance in Resolving Burundi War,” New York Times, January 20, 2000; Mary Kimani, “Burundi Peace Talks: Great Mountains Yet to Climb,” Africa News, no. 45, December 1999. According to a journalistic account: “Clinton said little of substance, but the fact of an African Nobel laureate greeting the U.S. president with an affable, ‘Hi, Bill! How are you?’ impressed on the delegates that they were receiving highest-level international attention in a way they never had before.” See Gregory Mthembu-Salter, “Burundi Peace Talks on Track.” Kristina A. Bentley and Roger Southall, An African Peace Process, p. 74. “Burundi Peace Talks: Summary of Committee Work,” Fondation Hirondelle, March 3, 2000. “Burundi Peace Talks: Summary of Committee Work,” Fondation Hirondelle, March 3, 2000. “Burundi Peace Talks: Summary of Committee Work,” Fondation Hirondelle, March 3, 2000. See also “Burundi Peace Talks: Burundi Peace Committees say They Have Made Progress,” Fondation Hirondelle, March 3, 2000. “Burundi Peace Talks: Mandela says Rebels Will Join Peace Talks in April,” Fondation Hirondelle, March 28, 2000. Anthony Morland, “Mandela Targets Buyoya at Burundi Peace Talks,” Agence France-Presse, March 28, 2000. On Mandela’s mediating style see Anthony Morland, “Mandela’s Mediation Mixes Censure with Sweet-talk,” Mail and Guardian, March 31, 2000; and Anthony Sampson, “Mandela on Boxers and Burundi, “ Mail and Guardian, April 5, 2000. “Burundi Peace Talks: Mandela Forces the Pace on Burundi Peace Talks,” Fondation Hirondelle, March 28, 2000; “Burundi Peace Talks: Burundi Peace Session Closes amid Row Over Fifth Committee,” Fondation Hirondelle, March 4, 2000; “Burundi Peace Talks: Burundi Delegates Say Peace Text is Nothing New,” Fondation Hirondelle, March 29, 2000; “Draft Accord for Burundi Peace Prepared,” Agence France-Presse, March 27, 2000. Anthony Morland, “Burundi Peace Talks on Verge of Breakthrough: Mandela,” Agence France-Presse, March 28, 2000; “Burundi Peace Talks: Burundi Peace Session Closes amid Row Over Fifth Committee,” Fondation Hirondelle, March 4, 2000. “Burundi Peace Talks: Burundi Peace Talks to Reconvene this Month,” Fondation Hirondelle, April 1, 2000; “Burundi Peace Talks: Burundi Peace Committee Reconvenes,” Fondation Hirondelle, April 10, 2000. “Burundi Peace Talks: Rebels Maintain Preconditions for Joining Talks,” Fondation Hirondelle, March 29, 2000. “Burundi Peace Talks: Mandela to Meet Burundi Rebels this Month,” Fondation Hirondelle, May 3, 2000; “Burundi Peace Talks Resume May 23rd,” Fondation Hirondelle, May 4, 2000; “Burundi Peace Talks: Five Burundi Parties Want International Peace Force,” Fondation Hirondelle, May 9, 2000. “Burundi’s Fifth Commission Meets in Arusha,” Pan African News Agency, May 15, 2000. “Mandela says Burundians to be Freed from Regroupment Camps,” Agence France-Presse,7 June 2000; “Burundi Peace Talks: Mandela Announces Breakthrough in Burundi Peace Talks,” Fondation Hirondelle, June 7, 2000. The International Crisis Group castigated Mandela for imposing deadlines and pressures charging that Mandela is “inexible, stubborn, and impervious to any advice or any external

MANDELA MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1999–2001

37.

38.

39. 40.

41. 42. 43.

44.

45. 46. 47.

48. 49. 50.

183

inuence on his management of the peace process.” See International Crisis Group, The Mandela Effect: Prospects for Peace in Burundi (Washington, D.C.: ICG Africa Report no. 13, April 18, 2000). For details of the talks see “Burundi Peace Talks: Burundi Peace Talks to Reconvene this Month,” Fondation Hirondelle, April 1, 2000; “Burundi Peace Talks: Burundi Peace Committee Reconvenes,” Fondation Hirondelle, April 10, 2000; “Burundi Peace Talks: Mandela Forces the Pace on Burundi Peace Talks,” Fondation Hirondelle, March 28, 2000; Anthony Morland, “Burundi Peace Talks on Verge of Breakthrough: Mandela,” Agence France-Presse, March 28, 2000. Declan Walsh, “Tutsi Parties Reject Burundi Accord, Mandela Delivers Rebuke to Leaders after Decision to opt out of Deal,” The Irish Times, August 29, 2000, p. 12. See also “Building Peace in Burundi,” The Boston Globe, August 29, 2000, p. 14; and Chris Tomlinson, “Burundi’s President Balks at Power-Sharing Agreement,” The independent, August 29, 2000, p. 11. “Peace Accord Sets Central African State On Social Revolution Path,” Pan African News Agency, August 29, 2000. “Burundi Peace Talks: Monitoring Committee to Review Burundi Peace Deadlines,” Fondation Hirondelle, January 16, 2001; “Mandela Launches Body to Oversee Burundi Pact, Rebels Still Out,” Agence France Press, November 27, 2000. “Aid donor’s Conference a ‘Total success’: Burundi President,” Agence France-Presse December 17, 2000. “Burundi Peace Talks: Peace Summit Proposes Split Transition Period for Burundi,” Fondation Hirondelle, February 26, 2001. “Burundi Peace Talks: Burundi Delegates Consult on Transition Leadership,” Fondation Hirondelle, March 20, 2001; “Burundi Peace Talks: Buyoya Opponents Gain Support of Two More Parties,” Fondation Hirondelle, March 21, 2001. “Burundi Peace Talks: Mandela Attaches Conditions to Burundi Transition Agreement,” Fondation Hirondelle, July 11, 2001. See also “Burundi Peace Talks: Burundi’s Government and FRODEBU Party Hail Transition “Breakthrough’,” Fondation Hirondelle, July 11, 2001; “Buyoya Agrees to Eleven Conditions for Burundi Transition,” Agence FrancePresse, July 10, 2001. International Crisis Group, Burundi: One Hundred Days to put the Peace Process Back on Track (Washington, D.C.: ICG Africa Report, no. 33, August 14, 2001). “Burundi Peace Talks: Region Threatens Sanctions if Buyoya Violates Conditions,” Fondation Hirondelle, July 23, 2001. “UN Security Council Press Statement on Burundi by Security Council President, SC/7107,” UN Integrated Regional Information Network for Central and Eastern Africa (IRIN-CEA), July 25, 2001. “Foreign Troops can Protect Returning Exiles: Burundi’s Buyoya,” Agence France-Presse, October 2, 2001. Filip Reyntjens, “Review of An African Peace Process: Mandela, South Africa, and Burundi,” Journal of Modern African Studies, vol. 44, no. 3, 2006, p. 481. “Burundi: FDD Ready to Go to Arusha,” Agence France-Presse, March 20, 2000; Philippe Bernes-Lasserre, “Second Guerrilla Leader Agrees to Join Burundi Talks,” Agence France-Presse, March 24, 2000; “Burundi: Focus on the CNDD-FDD Factor,” UN Integrated Regional Information Network for Central and Eastern Africa (IRIN-CEA), March 2, 2000.

184

CHAPTER FIVE

51. Kristina A. Bentley and Roger Southall, An African Peace Process, pp. 89–90, also claim that Zuma brought to “bear the extensive experience he had gained from resolving the political conict between the ANC and the Inkatha Freedom Party in Kwazulu-Natal.” 52. Meeting a UN Security mission in Kinshasa in April 2001, the FDD rebel leader JeanBosco Ndayikengurukiye stated the movement’s desire to see Gabonese President Omar Bongo appointed as a co-mediator of the Burundi peace process. The mission encouraged him to raise this question with Mandela. The latter later remarked that “Bongo’s and South Africa’s initiatives are efforts in the same direction and they will converge at some point. The important thing is that we have appointed men who are very capable to engage the armed groups. And they are doing so.” See, “Burundi, Situation ‘Complex and Intractable,’ UN Report Says,” UN Integrated Regional Information Network for Central and Eastern Africa (IRIN-CEA), May 31, 2001. 53. “Burundi: Talks between Rebels and Government Postponed,” UN Integrated Regional Information Network, January 24, 2002; Gregory Mthembu-Salter, “Burundi Rebels Keep up the Fight,” Mail and Guardian, April 20, 2001. 54. For good analyses of the ceasere talks see “Burundi Deal on Track,” Mail and Guardian, July 27, 2001; “Burundi’s FNL Rebels Conrm Attendance at Pretoria Summit,” Agence France-Presse, October 10, 2001; Julia Crawford, “Shadow of Congo Crisis Hangs Over Burundi,” Fondation Hirondelle, January 24, 2001. 55. International Crisis Group, Burundi After Six Months Of Transition: Continuing The War Or Winning Peace? (Washington, D.C: ICG Africa Report, no. 46, May 24, 2002). 56. “Burundi: Peace Talk, but is it Real?” Africa Condential, vol. 43, no. 18, September 13, 2002, pp. 5–6. 57. “Burundi: Memorandum of Understanding,” Africa Research Bulletin, August 1–31, 2002, p. 14969. 58. “Burundi: 30-Day Ultimatum,” Africa Research Bulletin, August 1–31, 2002, p. 15045. 59. “Burundi: Marathon Meeting,” Africa Research Bulletin, August 1–31, 2002, p. 15045; Ishbel Matheson, “African Peace Force in Burundi,” BBC World Monitoring Service, April 28, 2003. 60. There had been fears that Buyoya would not relinquish power citing the continuation of the civil war. See “Burundi: Power Transfer in Doubt,” Africa Research Bulletin, March 1–31, 2003, pp. 15235–15236. 61. “Burundi: Peace Agreement,” Africa Research Bulletin, November 1–30, 2003, pp. 15531– 15532. 62. Kristina A. Bentley and Roger Southall, An African Peace Process, p. 114. 63. “Burundi: ‘Peace Dividend’ Needed,” Africa Research Bulletin, December 1–31, 2003, p. 15567. 64. “Burundi: The Timetable Slips,” Africa Condential, vol. 45, no. 20, October 24, 2004, pp. 5–6. 65. “Burundi: Political Process Jeopardized,” Africa Research Bulletin, September 1–31, 2004, pp. 15907–15908. 66. International Crisis Group, “Elections in Burundi: A Radical Shake-up of the Political Landscape,” Nairobi, ICG, Africa Brieng, no. 31, August 25, 2005. 67. For analysis of the negotiations see “Burundi: FNL Starts to Negotiate,” Africa Research Bulletin, January 1–31, 2004, pp. 15601–15602. 68. David Lieberfeld, “Nelson Mandela: Partisan and Peacemaker,” p. 247.

MANDELA MEDIATES BURUNDI’S CIVIL WAR, 1999–2001

185

69. Rene Lemarchand, “Consociationalism and Power Sharing in Africa: Rwanda, Burundi, and the Democratic Republic of the Congo,” African Affairs, vol. 106, no., 2006, pp. 10–11. According to a Burundi civil society leader, Nestor Bikoramana, “Burundi: Arusha Not Yet Implemented,” Africa Research Bulletin, August 1–31, 2003, p. 154114: “For the rst time, Burundians sat down together and debated the questions that had divided them for decades, and there was consensus reached. It is the rst stone on which we should build even greater consensus.”

Chapter Six

Intergovernmental Authority on Development (IGAD) Mediates Sudan’s Civil War, 1993–1999 The general tendency has been for the [Sudanese] parties to welcome mediated talks more as a public relations exercise than a genuine means to a settlement. No one wants to be perceived as not interested in peace and so, whenever a third party suggests mediation, the initial response has nearly always been positive. But whenever talks start, it soon becomes obvious that not only are the positions far apart, but, even more signicantly, that there is no basis for compromise. The parties remain rmly committed to positions that are extremely difcult to bridge.1 Francis M. Deng, March 1998 The motive of IGADD leaders in taking up the task of mediation was rst to integrate and contain Khartoum in the interest of regional stability. However, their stance depended on Khartoum’s readiness to accommodate their concerns.2 Abdelwahab El-Affendi, 2001

Introduction What does it mean for African regional organizations to mediate civil wars? Mediation requires attention, clarity of purpose, order, and persistence, things we seldom associate with amorphous and multipurpose regional organizations consumed by competing agendas. As African regional organizations shoulder more responsibilities for ending conicts in their neighborhoods, they confront questions about leadership, organizational capacity, and coordination. For weak states trying to mediate civil wars, regional organizations promise the weight of numbers and collective clout, potentially providing the leverage to overcome the inadequacies of unilateral and bilateral initiatives. Yet mediation roles in collective and competitive contexts of regionalism are more difcult to manage, demanding higher levels of coordination.

188

CHAPTER SIX

Although mobilizing international action to buttress regional mediation also compensates for some of the weaknesses, African mediators have to face the formidable task of managing the array of international actors involved in civil wars. As the previous Burundi chapter demonstrated, external actors bring leverage and their own interests to mediation contexts. To be effective in protracted civil conicts, African mediators have to attract powerful international actors, but invitation brings new demands and interests that they have to manage carefully. Chapters six and seven will examine some of these questions in assessing the role of the IGAD (before January 1996, it was known as the Intergovernmental Authority on Drought and Desertication, IGADD) in mediating Sudan’s civil war between 1993 and 2005. IGAD’s twelve-year effort in Sudan demonstrates how regional mediators managed the task of steering Sudan parties to the negotiating table and how they brought in international actors to assist in the mediation. These chapters also illuminate how external actors forced IGAD to professionalize the mediation in a bid to improve the engagement and the consequences on reaching outcomes. This chapter begins with Nigeria’s mediation efforts in the early 1990s, highlighting the motives and outcomes of the Abuja talks. It then examines the rst phase of the IGADD initiative that reached agreement on the Declaration of Principles (DOP). Subsequently, the analysis details the role of international actors in the conict through the lenses of the diplomatic initiatives of IGAD Partners Forum (IPF) and the military pressure on the Khartoum government launched by the Frontline States—Uganda, Ethiopia, and Eritrea—at the behest of the United States. The nal sections address changes in the regional balance of power and the emergence of a competitive mediation process, the LibyanEgyptian initiative on IGAD’s standing in the conict.

Background to IGAD: The Abuja Process, 1992 Sudan suffered through one of Africa’s longest running civil wars due to a combination of geographical size, historical legacies, and cultural diversities. Since independence in 1956, the conict pitted mostly the dominant north against a weak and fragmented south. Over the years, northern elites, wielding a disproportionate share of economic, military, and political resources, used state power to subjugate the south.3 The Addis Ababa Agreement of 1972, a power-sharing arrangement mediated by Ethiopian Emperor Haile Selaisse between the government and a southern rebel movement, was the exception to the history of north-south conict. This power-sharing experiment lasted until

IGAD MEDIATES SUDAN’S CIVIL WAR, 1993–1999

189

May 1983, when Gaffar Nimeiry’s government abolished autonomy for the south and instituted nationwide Islamic sharia law.4 Subsequently, the south organized under the Sudanese People’s Liberation Movement (SPLM), and its army (SPLA), led by Colonel John Garang, took up arms to protest against political and economic marginalization.5 The conict took a decisive turn in 1989 when a military coup led by General Omar Hassan al-Bashir ended Sudan’s turbulent three-year experiment with multi-party democracy. General Bashir, in alliance with Hassan Turabi’s fundamentalist National Islamic Front (NIF) abolished all democratic institutions, imposed strict Islamic law, and elevated the civil war into an Islamic holy war. The SPLA responded to the coup by calling for a multi-party government of national unity that would convene a constitutional conference to resolve the north-south conict. Although the government and the SPLA met in August 1989 in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, Khartoum failed to make any concessions and instead organized its own national conference in October 1989 that decreed a federal system based on Islamic law with few legal exemptions to the south.6 To consolidate its power, the government clamped down on the civilian opposition and launched a major military offensive in the south to reverse the SPLA’s military gains. But these measures alienated the military junta in the south. In October 1989, the SPLA found common cause with northern opposition parties, coalescing in the National Democratic Alliance (NDA) in a platform to overthrow the government. As growing reports of human right violations and misery stemming from the civil war spurred international demands to isolate the Sudanese government, Bashir invited American mediation. In December 1989, the former US President Jimmy Carter organized negotiations in Nairobi that ended in deadlock. After the collapse of the Carter talks, the US Assistant Secretary of State for African Affairs, Herman Cohen, launched another initiative starting in March 1990 focusing on a ceasere, the establishment of an international monitoring force, and a national constitutional conference. But the Cohen initiative also failed as both sides disagreed on terms of a ceasere and a settlement.7 With the collapse of the American initiatives, African leaders sought to end the war. In 1991, the OAU summit mandated its chairman, Nigerian President Ibrahim Babangida to mediate. The Nigerian invitation captured several themes of African ownership of a local problem at a time when the OAU was trying to develop mediation mechanisms of internal conicts. First, Nigeria’s leading position in Africa seemed to enhance its stature as a mediator. Since Khartoum claimed to be besieged by “imperialist and neocolonialist” forces against its Islamic orientation, it saw Nigeria (with its large Muslim population) as a

190

CHAPTER SIX

mediator that would preempt intrusive external actors and lend legitimacy to an “African solution.” Second, Nigeria’s credibility drew partly from its success of having overcome the Biafran civil war in the 1960s. Bashir summarized these views: “Babangida is the logical mediator because of his sincerity on issues concerning the African continent, Nigeria’s experience in solving problems of internal conict, as well as the fact that he is the current OAU Chairman.”8 The SPLA saw Nigerian mediation as an opportunity to mobilize African pressure on the government that had grown stronger militarily. The fall of Ethiopia’s Mengistu Haile Mariam in May 1991, the SPLA’s erstwhile strategic ally, limited the rebel movement’s military capabilities. More critical, a split in the SPLA leadership further eroded its ability to galvanize all southern factions in one group. In August 1991, three dissident SPLA commanders, Riek Machar, Lam Kol, and Gordon Kong, unsuccessfully sought to depose Garang but managed to form a new faction, SPLA (Nasir) to distinguish themselves from Garang’s SPLA (Torit). Apart from ethnicity, pitting Garang’s predominantly Dinka against Machar’s Nuer, the split arose because of contests over leadership and differences about the south’s position in Sudan. Machar and his colleagues favored southern secession while Garang held to the belief of creating a “New Sudan.” Attempts to reconcile the SPLA factions in December 1991 foundered on leadership conicts.9 The government exploited the SPLA’s internal strife by launching large-scale offensives against Garang’s forces, retaking a string of towns including the SPLA’s headquarters at Torit.10 Consequently, as Collins notes: “Weakened by disaffection and desertions, Garang had little choice but to negotiate. He was at a disastrous disadvantage, particularly when he was encouraged to do so by the United States and the new head of the Organization of African Unity (OAU), the Nigerian president Ibrahim Babangida, whose intercession could not be ignored by either belligerent.”11 The rst phase of the Abuja I talks began in May 1992 and lasted for ten days. In preparation for the talks, the Nigerian mediators had committed the parties to an agenda that included dealing with substantive issues of national identity, citizenship, and fundamental rights; power- and resource-sharing arrangements; and agreeing on interim arrangements and modalities for drafting a permanent constitution.12 Additionally, they proposed comprehensive debate on each agenda item followed by establishment of committees to reconcile the parties’ positions. Throughout the negotiations, Nigerian mediators drew lessons from their civil war as they tried to sell the formula of federalism, secularism, and multiculturalism: “In Nigeria, no religion is imposed on any one. We have no state religion. We are a multi-religious country and Nigerians will resist the imposition of any religion as we cherish and respect our freedom of worship.”13

IGAD MEDIATES SUDAN’S CIVIL WAR, 1993–1999

191

Although the two SPLA factions agreed to temporarily bury their differences in negotiations over self-determination, the government refused to budge on the key provisions of its agenda, insisting on an Islamic state and the unity of the Sudan.14 Thus, at the end of the talks in June 1992, the parties signed a communiqué stating that the Sudan is a multiethnic, multilingual, and multi-religious country. The attendees also pledged to work toward an “institutional-political arrangement to cope with and to encourage such diversities as is the case in Nigeria.”15 However, the communiqué glossed over the primary areas of disagreement and, as Lesch and Wöndu show, “there was scant hope that the parties would alter their substantive positions. Rather, the communiqué saved face for President Babangida and the mediating team.”16 Following the adjournment of the Abuja I talks, Nigerian mediators tried to involve Kenya and Uganda in the peace process to bolster collective pressure on Bashir’s government.17 In February 1993, President Museveni convened a meeting in Entebbe between Garang and the Sudanese government in which they pledged to return to Abuja and exclude Machar’s SPLA United from the negotiations.18 But when the Abuja II talks resumed in April 1993, the parties could not nd common ground on the fundamental questions of secularism, north-south political relationships, and the interim arrangements.19 Strengthened by additional military victories over the SPLA, the government was less inclined to make concessions. To emphasize its growing condence, Khartoum engaged in parallel negotiations in May 1993 in Nairobi with Machar’s faction, further deepening the southern split.20 After the breakdown of Abuja II in May 1993, Nigerian mediators, devoid of leverage and new ideas, withdrew from the negotiations. As Lusk notes, the “party most put out” by the “predictable impasse at Abuja” was Nigeria “which needed a diplomatic success, at a time of great uncertainty over its transition to civilian rule.”21 The demise of the Abuja talks and the escalation of the civil war in the “starvation triangle” of the Upper Nile and Bahr El Ghazal shifted the focus of attention to alleviating the plight of an estimated two million southerners facing famine. With the war impeding relief operations, the U.S. ambassador to Sudan, Donald Petterson, tried to mediate an agreement between Garang and Machar in June 1993.22 Petterson’s intervention enabled the U.N. to resume humanitarian assistance, but Khartoum objected to the creation of demilitarized safe havens in the south. Although U.N. and voluntary agencies supported efforts that would allow noncombatants to resume economic activities, the government considered the establishment of safe zones as a pretext for external actors to intervene in its internal affairs and to “internationalize and complicate the southern Sudan issue.”23 The U.S.-brokered cease-re did not end the factional ghting because of the inability of both parties to overcome their mutual antagonisms. Having

192

CHAPTER SIX

boosted its military alliance with the SPLA (Nasir) splinter faction, the government mounted a coordinated air and ground offensive against Garang forces along its supply routes on the Ugandan border, while in Upper Nile Province the SPLA dissidents advanced on SPLA territory. By late summer 1993, the government wrestled control of strategic towns from the SPLA, thus compromising its ability to sustain an effective guerrilla strategy.24 On the occasion of August celebration of Armed Forces Day, Bashir claimed that Garang, “the vanguard of Islam’s enemies, has been defeated in the battleeld despite his weapons and equipment. The rebels have dispersed from around him and his movement is torn apart because he has forgotten the concerns of the homeland and yielded to the whims of agents who want to humiliate this nation and force it to retreat to serve their cheap worldly purposes.”25 Garang tried to compensate for losing ground in the eld by lobbying for diplomatic support, nance and arms in Africa, Europe, and the United States. At the regional level, Garang sought diplomatic support from Kenyan and Ugandan governments worried about the impact of Khartoum’s military successes and the spread of Islamic fundamentalist inuence to Muslim minorities in their own countries.26

The IGADD Initiative, September 1993: From Abuja to Nairobi The Abuja talks illustrated the fundamental problem of creating a legitimate peace process in light of the power discrepancies that worsened with the grinding civil war. The government’s military dominance gave it little incentive to engage the fragmented SPLA. Debates about the role of external interveners in equalizing power among unequal parties in communal conicts revolve around how much pressure can be exerted on the stronger party without alienating it from the reconciliation process.27 International pressure captured in various U.N. reports condemning ethnic cleansing, slavery, and an abysmal human rights record had delivered the Sudanese government to Abuja. But while Nigerian mediators had used this pressure to induce negotiations, it was insufcient to alter the government’s basic position on the central questions that the Nigerian mediators had put on the agenda. Moreover, international leverage was constrained by the imperative of balancing the short-term goals of humanitarian relief with the long-term ones of political settlement to end the civil war. The rst objective required government cooperation that international actors threatened to compromise by more forceful measures aimed to achieve the second objective. Cognizant of its political and military predicament, the SPLA had tried unsuccessfully to include Western countries and the United Nations as independent

IGAD MEDIATES SUDAN’S CIVIL WAR, 1993–1999

193

observers in the Abuja talks, citing the cases of international engagement in the peace efforts in Angola and Mozambique. To the SPLA, external engagement in the negotiations would boost its sagging strength and force more concessions from the government but the Nigerian government rejected this suggestion as Wöndu and Lesch note: “The chair [Nigeria] objected to this request for several reasons. Nigeria could act both as mediator and observer, since it had secured the mandate and trust of the parties . . . Most important, President Babangida had been personally entrusted by the parties and other heads of state to mediate; he would not take it well if he were informed that the parties now wanted additional observers.”28 Left to fend for themselves, Nigerian mediators had nothing more than moral suasion over the principal parties as they struggled to cajole a reluctant Khartoum and the SPLA into emulating their model of federalism and secularism. In the aftermath of Abuja’s collapse, there were demands for robust pressure on the parties to create more credible negotiations. For instance, American NGOs released a statement that noted: “it was becoming increasingly apparent that the quiet diplomacy approach inherent in the Abuja process [was] deeply awed and not taken seriously by the combatants except as an opportunity to be perceived as seeking peace without being held accountable to any timetable.”29 Similarly, a group of U.S. legislators visited the Sudan in July 1993 and urged the international community to raise the stakes in the peace process by instigating high-prole cease-re negotiations under the OAU’s auspices.30 The Clinton administration took the international lead starting in 1993 to isolate the Sudan, citing human rights abuses, support for international terrorism, and export of Islamic fundamentalism. Following accusations of Khartoum’s complicity in June 1993 bombing of the World Trade Center in New York and its growing cooperation with Iran and Iraq, the U.S. State Department designated Sudan as a supporter of international terrorism, triggering a ban on all bilateral trade and virtually all foreign assistance, except humanitarian and disaster relief.31 In August 1993, the International Monetary Fund (IMF) suspended Sudan’s membership due to its failure to repay its $1.6 billion debt.32 Equally important, since Bashir’s support of Iraq’s invasion of Kuwait in 1991, Sudan had lost economic support from its traditional oil-rich Gulf allies. Khartoum’s isolation was deepened when fellow Arab League members, in particular the North African axis of Algeria, Egypt, and Tunisia expressed concern about its support for fundamentalism.33 As a further sign of increasing isolation, in October 1993 the Joint Assembly of the African-CaribbeanPacic/European Community (ACP-EU) voted to freeze aid to Sudan under the Lome Convention and individual EU states agreed on a policy of minimal engagement with Sudan. A British Parliamentary group, for instance, advised

194

CHAPTER SIX

that Western aid to Sudan only served to support bloodshed in the absence of diplomatic initiatives.34 Mounting external pressure compounded an economy reeling under the strain of war. Although the Bashir government and its NIF allies had since 1989 promised to provide answers to underdevelopment and nation-building, ve years later, the Sudanese economy was characterized by decreased agricultural production, soaring ination, and high unemployment. In January 1994, government estimates showed that Sudan, which had also been hit by a devastating drought, had been spending more than a million dollars a day to keep its army in the south.35 Like the Abuja talks, the IGADD initiative grew out of the coincidence of the Sudan’s international isolation and domestic economic pressures. Formed in 1986 to coordinate regional responses to widespread famine and environmental issues, IGADD began to mediate at Bashir’s invitation during the annual summit in September 1993 in Addis Ababa. The basis for seeking IGADD’s mediation did not depart signicantly from the Nigerian invitation. The African nature of IGADD mechanisms, Bashir suggested, would prove to the world that “Africans have become mature enough to resolve their own problems . . . and are no longer in need of a foreign guardian.”36 Pointing to the theme of preempting foreign intervention, Bashir stated that IGADD would be neutral and transparent, but “without loopholes through which colonialism could penetrate on the pretext of humanitarianism.37 A Sudanese Foreign Ministry statement also saw IGADD’s proximity as an added advantage: “Their [IGADD] countries sharing the same borders with the Sudan, being fully knowledgeable of the root causes of the problem, are better placed, to help bring about the desired peaceful settlement.”38 Wöndu and Lesch provide three reasons for Bashir’s invitation: First, it was the right thing to say in that [IGADD] fraternity. Second, he did not expect them to take up the challenge so soon after Nigeria had failed. Third, by proposing that Sudan’s immediate neighbors in IGADD form the mediation committee, Bashir calculated that its best friends would dominate the deliberations. The four-state IGADD Standing Committee on Peace in Sudan was to be chaired by Kenyan Daniel Arap Moi, with Presidents Meles Zenawi of Ethiopia, Isaias Afwerki of Eritrea and Yoweri Museveni of Uganda. According to Khartoum’s arithmetic, Eritrea and Ethiopia were governed by former insurgents indebted to Sudan for the support they received during their struggle against Mengistu. Uganda’s sympathy for the SPLM could be neutralized. Kenya was considered neutral and would be paralyzed by the responsibilities of the chair.39

Despite Bashir’s mixed motives, IGADD accepted his offer and subsequently sought to halt the escalating war and its spillover effects in the region. IGADD members perceived their access to Sudan’s principal parties as a major source

IGAD MEDIATES SUDAN’S CIVIL WAR, 1993–1999

195

of leverage to facilitate the peace process. As El-Affendi has observed: “The motive of IGADD leaders in taking the task of mediation was rst to integrate and contain Khartoum in the interest of regional stability.”40 Hence IGADD hoped that Sudan’s membership in IGADD would provide neighboring states with the means of exerting collective pressure without seeming to be overly interventionist. A Kenyan ofcial noted: The thrust of the IGADD initiative was its unique nature of bringing pressure to a member government to try to settle an internal conict. The Sudanese government approached IGADD members just as it had done with respect to the Nigerian effort. This request endowed the organization with the power to intervene in ways that it had never done before. But the basic assumption was that we had a better understanding of the sources of the conict and other member states were facing similar problems. The challenge was how to come up with creative solutions that were fair to all the parties and yet respected Sudan’s standing as a sovereign entity within IGADD.41

For the SPLA, the IGADD initiative rst elicited misgivings that gradually gave way to expectations that collective pressure would bring Khartoum to the negotiating table. These concerns stemmed from IGADD’s invitation of the SPLA to join the peace initiative without what the SPLA considered sufcient consultation. The SPLA was also wary that IGADD would be inclined to curry favor with the government.42 But the proximity of regional states to the theater of conict and the consequences emanating from the war such as refugees and arms ows convinced them of the sincerity of IGADD aims. As Garang stated: “I expect a lot from these states because they are our neighbors and the sense they are affected by our problem whether through the exodus of refugees or instability on the borders. Some of these states, like Eritrea and Ethiopia, are on good terms with Khartoum. True, they treat us as rebels and treat the Khartoum government as a government, but there is no other way. So long as the Khartoum government and the two wings of the Sudanese People’s Movement have accepted the initiative, the chances of making progress seem to be good.”43 At the Addis Ababa summit in September 1993, IGADD established a four-nation mediation committee composed of Kenyan President Moi, Eritrean President Isaias Afwerki, Ethiopian Prime Minister Meles Zenawi, and Uganda’s President Museveni. A ministerial mediation committee from the four nations later managed the mediations under Moi’s chairmanship. From the outset, Moi consulted all parties, mediated the sessions, and reported to committee members. The idea of a mediating committee endowed the initiative with collective character and facilitated decision-making and consultation, while avoiding the obstacles that would impinge on mediation through a full-edged multilateral body.44

196

CHAPTER SIX

With the renewed commitment to peace under the IGADD framework, supporters of the southern cause in the United States made attempts to reconcile the SPLA factions, culminating in the October 1993 agreement between Garang and Machar mediated by the chairman of the U.S. House Foreign Affairs Subcommittee on Africa, Harry Johnston. These efforts proceeded from the premise that fratricidal conicts would further weaken the SPLA’s bargaining position. Furthermore, unity would reclaim the international legitimacy of the southern cause that had been shattered by the SPLA’s human rights atrocities and obstruction of relief efforts. The most serious damage to the southern movement, Johnston and Dagne noted, “was not done on the battleeld. Rather, the 1991 split between the SPLM’s mainstream and the splinter groups seriously damaged the reputation of the southern cause generally and generated strong criticism of the movements by international human rights groups.”45 Some in IGADD also saw the SPLA’s worsening international image as an obstacle to a negotiated settlement, as an Ethiopian ofcial remarked: “Once the SPLA cast itself in international public opinion as a rebel movement with legitimate grievances against the Islamic government, everybody was willing to lend whatever support to its cause. But once the movement broke up into factions that started to kill each other, then their supporters had to wonder about their causes and priorities. When some factions of the SPLA began to be referred to as “warlords” instead of “rebels” or “movements,” the image of the whole movement suffered irrevocably. This is the damage that intra-SPLA squabbles dealt on the southern cause.”46 The October 1993 Congressional reconciliation talks produced an eight-point Washington Declaration that committed Garang and Machar to a cessation of hostilities, cooperation in relief work, the search for common position on southern Sudan’s right of self-determination, Nuba Mountains and other marginalized areas, and opposition to the “policies of the NIF government in Khartoum, and other subsequent regimes that deny the right to self-determination of the people of southern Sudan, Nuba Mountains, and other marginalized areas.”47 While the signatories lauded this agreement as a boost to the IGADD initiative, Khartoum criticized it as an obstacle to peace. According to a Sudanese government ofcial: “Our information conrms that what happened in Washington was intended to unite the rebel factions, by strengthening their military position, to exert further pressure on the government. This endeavor is a new act of aggression which prepares the atmosphere for further war and destruction and aborts every endeavor to establish peace in the south.”48

IGAD MEDIATES SUDAN’S CIVIL WAR, 1993–1999

197

IGADD Mediates, January–December 1994 Invitation to mediate conferred broader responsibility to IGADD to generate movement in the negotiations despite the wide power disparities between the government and the SPLA. With Kenya at the helm, IGADD faced the credibility problems associated with Moi’s mediation record in Uganda. Furthermore, there was recognition that efforts to harness IGADD’s negotiating ability would dissipate if its members battled for inuence. Potentially destabilizing to the IGADD initiative was the longstanding feud between Moi and Museveni over regional leadership.49 In a bid to contain these challenges, the IGADD committee let Moi take the leadership role. Moi, in turn, gradually ceded the mediation tasks to Kenya’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs. In the view of an American ofcial: “Moi essentially volunteered to become the key mediator, wanting to make it an entirely Kenyan affair, with IGADD playing only a secondary role. But once he found out that the mediation exercise was a fulltime affair, he devolved responsibilities to his Foreign Ministers.”50 In managing the mediation, IGADD relied primarily on two foundations: Khartoum’s international vulnerability and southern unity. The rst required, according to an IGADD ofcial, that “foreigner’s provide leverage and muscle” by continued diplomatic isolation of Sudan.51 Over time, the international dimension was expressed in formation of the Friends of IGADD (it was later renamed the IGAD Partners Forum, IPF), a group of core Western countries supportive of the initiative. According to El-Effendi, “by 1998, the IPF’s twenty-odd membership read like a who’s who of major industrialized countries plus the European Union and a number of UN agencies.”52 The second prop depended on reinvigorating the Washington Declaration to transform southern unity into bargaining strength. While Khartoum saw southern unity as a threat to its control of the negotiations, the real test for southern commitment lay not just in common negotiating positions, but in resolving the deep-seated leadership differences that had surfaced when the SPLA broke into two in August 1991. The resurgence of bickering between Garang and Machar after the Washington meeting underscored the tenuous nature of the southern alliance.53 In consultations with the parties, the IGADD Ministerial Committee began preparing an agenda in January 1994. These talks also attempted to force a compromise among the parties around specic items, prior to efforts to narrow substantive differences. In a joint statement to the committee, Garang and Machar proposed to negotiate a cease-re involving all parties to facilitate humanitarian relief; the right of self-determination “through a referendum to be conducted in the southern Sudan, Nuba Mountains and in the marginalized areas to enable the people themselves to decide on their political destiny;” and

198

CHAPTER SIX

interim arrangements to cater for the subsequent transitional period between the cessation of armed conict and the establishment of permanent arrangements.54 The government reafrmed its commitment to negotiate on “controversial issues,” but was reluctant to include cease-re negotiations and self-determination as separate items on the agenda.55 The rst round of IGADD-mediated talks began on March 22, 1994 after considerable acrimony following the government’s resumption of aerial bombing of civilian and military targets in the south, sending a new ood of refugees into Uganda, Ethiopia, and Kenya. Moi publicly criticized the government’s offensive, stating that “such attacks are bound to bring about suspicion between the parties to the conict, thus making the IGADD process difcult.”56 But this elicited a threat from Bashir to boycott the negotiations unless IGADD mediators showed more evenhandedness.57 On the eve of the talks, Africa Condential reected on the war: “Despite material and political difculties, SPLA ghters are still able to thwart Khartoum’s strategy and a military stalemate threatens Khartoum much more than the SPLA. Khartoum needs both a convincing victory and a peace settlement. But it is getting neither: it cannot defeat the SPLA nor is it likely to put anything on the negotiating table that the SPLA will pick up.”58 During the rst round, IGADD proposed a compromise agenda that would rst negotiate a ceasere followed by constitutional principles that would frame the resolution to the civil war, and the political and security arrangements during the interim period. But government representatives rejected the agenda and threatened to walk out if the mediators placed self-determination on the agenda. Despite the previous SPLA consensus to make self-determination a principal issue in the negotiations, SPLA (Nasir) faction backed the government’s position. As a result of these disagreements, the rst round never discussed the agenda. Instead, IGADD only managed to secure agreement on the formation of a negotiating subcommittee of SPLA factions, the government, and U.N. to deal with relief issues. In April 1994, the subcommittee agreed to open air corridors to seventy-three relief sites, create ve land passages, and immunize children in the war zone.59 An unwillingness to negotiate marked the second round of talks in May 1994. As a result, IGADD adjourned the meeting after four days. However, the mediators prepared a draft Declaration of Principles (DOP) and handed it to the delegates for review in preparation for the third round in July 1994. Through this strategy, the mediators sought to overcome the impasse over an agenda by devising a formula for future negotiations. The DOP embodied all the conict’s contentious and divisive questions. Given the polarization of Sudan, the rst principle upheld the right of self-determination as an inalienable right

IGAD MEDIATES SUDAN’S CIVIL WAR, 1993–1999

199

to people whose particular circumstances justied its application. The mediators also gave priority to national unity as a principle that would be created through a national consensus. To forge a national consensus, the parties had to agree on an interim period during which they would work toward national unity based on the principles of separation of state and religion, multiparty democracy, respect for fundamental human rights, and political decentralization through a loose federation or confederation. After a sufcient interim period, the south and other marginalized groups would decide by referendum whether to continue the unity arrangement or adopt alternative arrangements such as secession. Central to the realization of these arrangements, the parties would commit themselves to an internationally-monitored cease-re.60 In between the second and third round of talks, there were important diplomatic efforts that solidied the informal Western group, the IPF, with the goal of shoring up the leverage of the mediators. On a visit to Khartoum in April 1994, the U.S. ambassador to the United Nations, Madeleine Albright, warned that Sudan was running the risk of “continuing along the path of international isolation if it did not change its attitude on human rights in the war in the south and support for terrorism.” While Khartoum pleaded for the U.S. to remove Sudan from state sponsors of terrorism, Albright reiterated that she was more “convinced than ever that the international community must maintain its vigilance toward Sudan.”61 Following Albright’s mission, President Clinton appointed ambassador Melissa Wells in June 1994 as special envoy to Sudan with a mandate to assist the IGADD peace efforts.62 In the summer of 1994, Wells worked with IGADD mediators to nd a solution to the humanitarian and political crisis.63 Dovetailing with American efforts was a European diplomatic bid launched by “Friends of Sudan and Uganda,” that resulted in a secret meeting between Museveni and Bashir in Muerzsberg, Austria in May 1994. Mediated by Austrian president, Thomas Klestil, these talks led to an agreement to ease bilateral tensions and “remove all obstacles to a peace settlement for southern Sudan.”64 The approach of the mediators to the third round that began on July 18, 1994 was to solicit the responses of the parties to the DOP to prevent the negotiations from lapsing into procedural battles. Moi called for a ceasere and implementation of the May agreement on relief supplies. Both southern parties endorsed the DOP and expressed condence in the mediators, but the government rejected the DOP because the issues of self-determination and secularism were not negotiable. The most Khartoum would negotiate was an interim period in the south based on federalism. Reecting the strained relations with IGADD mediators, the government claimed that the mediators had overreached their mandate by placing the DOP on the table: “the issues

200

CHAPTER SIX

of self-determination and religion and state are not within the competence of IGADD group.”65 IGADD mediators tried to break the deadlock by issuing a “non-paper” on self-determination that indicated that the south would determine its destiny through an internationally supervised referendum at the end of the interim period in which they would “freely choose from all options including independence. The government, however, rejected the new language, ending the third round of talks. Kenyan Foreign Minister, Zachary Onyonka, acknowledged that the government had been “unable to show more exibility, commitment, and seriousness.”66 At the start of the fourth round in early September 1994, Khartoum replaced its chief negotiators with Ghazi Salih al-Din, a militant Minister of State for Presidential Affairs, signaling an even more hard-line position. Moi opened the talks with a warning that IGADD mediators would not be ready to continue with the initiative if there was no concrete evidence of progress toward a settlement: Let me hope that you are prepared to discuss with seriousness and commitment, because the longer we continue to deliberate the more lives and property continue to be wasted or lost. The issues involved are serious and deep-rooted, but one must surely take courage and decide one way or the other . . . Surely, we must make a breakthrough in our peace efforts. We should not aim to give up . . . There has to be a clear indication from all concerned that there is willingness to achieve peace . . . The Sudanese want peace and you must work for it . . . We, the mediators cannot help if the parties involved in the conict are not prepared to resolve the issues. As chairman of the IGADD committee on the Sudan, my message to the parties in the conict is brief and clear. Unless there is convincing evidence that these talks will show results soon, we are not prepared to preside over them as people continue to get killed, maimed, or property destroyed.67

Neither the threat nor the moral exhortation, however, could bridge the diametrically opposed positions of the parties. Al-Din castigated IGADD for issuing the DOP, its sympathy to southern demands, and the thrust of the mediation: The separation of state from religion is impossible because Sharia law embodies Islamic values. Sharia and custom as they stand are irreplaceable, but predominantly non-Muslim state legislation may provide for alternative laws vis-à-vis Sharia penal provisions in the south. The government has in no time before agreed to the principle of self-determination for the south in the sense that a new sovereign and independent state should be created. Self-determination or any other term that might cloak separation is a non-issue and the government is not ready to dwell upon it. The government suggested during the previous rounds of talks a “mechanism” through which the people of southern Sudan could express their political future within a United Sudan. Self-determination-alias separation of southern Sudan is

IGAD MEDIATES SUDAN’S CIVIL WAR, 1993–1999

201

bound to elicit a chain-reaction aficting the rest of Africa. This is an eventuality that the founding fathers of the OAU consciously tried to avoid.68

In light of the invectives on IGADD, Moi suspended the negotiations even before the other parties responded. Subsequently, Museveni blamed Khartoum for the breakdown of the talks and called for international economic sanctions against Sudan “to stop it from killing its southern citizens at will.”69 Despite the deterioration in Uganda-Sudan relations, Moi tried to get Khartoum and the SPLA back to the negotiating table by holding separate talks with both parties. Meeting with Moi on September 17, 1994, the NIF’s leader Hassan Turabi, tried to persuade Moi to abandon the IGADD framework because of the anti-Khartoum stance taken by Eritrea and Uganda. Instead, he proposed exploring a new negotiating mechanism controlled by Kenya.70 Afraid to break ranks with the IGADD committee, however, Moi resisted this appeal and urged for the resumption of the talks. These consultations paved the way for Bashir’s attendance at a meeting of the IGADD Committee of Heads of State in mid-September 1994, where Moi focused IGADD’s collective power behind the DOP. This summit, however, failed to change the government’s position. The most they could was to “seek collective and appropriate means to reinforce the ongoing IGADD initiative with a view to reaching a nal settlement of the problem.”71 Bashir attributed the collapse to IGADD’s lack of impartiality and vowed to defeat the SPLA on the battleeld: “IGADD made a mistake by issuing a statement condemning Sudan’s government for not being serious about peace talks. I don’t think IGADD is any more neutral . . . We shall now resolve the war in southern Sudan through the barrel of a gun . . . We shall also strive to bring peace from within the country without the SPLA.”72 Kenyan envoys to Khartoum in the fall of 1994 endeavored to revive the initiative, but the prospects of resumption dimmed further when in November 1994 Sudan insisted that it would not return to the talks unless IGADD removed self-determination and secularism from the agenda. Furthermore, the government demanded the removal of Uganda and Eritrea from the IGADD committee because of their hostility to Sudan.73

Forging a Frontline Strategy, 1995–1997 The inability of IGAD mediators to make progress toward a settlement from the four rounds of talks in 1994 demonstrated the limits to their organizational abilities. The IGAD committee revealed the possibilities of African multilateral mechanisms for mediation but it failed to keep the parties at the table. Attempts

202

CHAPTER SIX

to prevail through moral suasion, like Nigeria had done at Abuja, had little impact on altering the government and southern factions. As a result some of IGAD’s states sought to increase regional military pressure on the government to boost the political and military efcacy of the south and stepped up international pressure to further isolate Khartoum. The Frontline States strategy entailed U.S. leadership of economic and diplomatic sanctions against Sudan while strengthening the military capability of regional states to meet the escalation of the civil war. Eritrea, Ethiopia, and Uganda became the key regional actors in military pressure against the Sudan, providing military, political, and diplomatic support indispensable to the SPLA’s execution of the guerrilla war. By engaging the Frontline States and broadening Sudan’s external isolation, Washington narrowed Khartoum’s options without markedly improving IGAD’s ability to resolve the conict. The Clinton administration launched the Frontline strategy in early 1995 with the aim to deter Sudanese support for terrorism and regional extremism, support an end to the civil war, encourage the restoration of political and human rights, and end the humanitarian crisis.74 In light of Khartoum’s proclaimed goal of a region-wide jihad, Washington committed resources to strengthen the military capability of regional states Eritrea, Ethiopia, and Uganda. The support to the Frontline States, in turn, became critical to the SPLA’s execution of the guerrilla war. Eritrea rst broke diplomatic relations with Sudan in December 1994, due to Khartoum’s destabilization policies. On a visit to Washington in January 1995, Afwerki pressed for concerted regional and international efforts to deter Sudanese subversion, noting that: “Everyone in the region is very much worried about Sudan’s expansionist policies. Ethiopia is affected, Uganda is affected, Kenya is affected. I believe this is a regional problem.”75 Uganda followed suit by severing diplomatic relations with Sudan in April 1995.76 Similarly, relations between Sudan and Ethiopia deteriorated following allegations of Khartoum’s complicity in an assassination attempt on the life of Egyptian President, Hosni Mubarak, in Addis Ababa in summer of 1995. Ethiopian Prime Minister Meles expressed skepticism about dealing with the Sudanese government: “Do I think that peace can be achieved through dialogue in the Sudan? We tried it. So far, we have not succeeded. The IGADD initiative tried to help the peace process in the Sudan. These peace talks have now been stalled because we feel the government in the Sudan thinks it can dictate the terms of peace in the Sudan.”77 Part of the policy of the Frontline States strategy was to craft a credible domestic alliance against the Bashir government. This search assumed signicance because of the futile efforts by regional and international actors to forge reconciliation between Garang and Machar who had renamed his faction, the

IGAD MEDIATES SUDAN’S CIVIL WAR, 1993–1999

203

Southern Sudan Independence Movement (SSIM). In the absence of southern unity, collaboration between the SPLA and northern opposition groups in the NDA, the Umma Party, the Democratic Unionist Party, and Sudanese Allied Forces, presented an opportunity for new avenues of internal pressure. To solidify the NDA, Eritrea organized a meeting between the SPLA and its NDA partners beginning from December 1994. In June 1995, the NDA adopted the Asmara Agreement that emphasized national unity under federal and confederal arrangements, pending a referendum in southern Sudan, Abyei, the Nuba Mountains, and the Ingessana Hills after a four-year interim period.78 In January 1996, Afwerki turned over the Sudanese embassy in Asmara to the NDA. Garang reected on the gains from the Asmara conferences: Our military action to topple the Bashir regime has not stopped. We agreed with the Sudanese opposition National Democratic Alliance parties at the Asmara congress to use armed military action and to coordinate between us in order to topple Bashir’s regime. During the period between the two Asmara congresses, we set out details of the other parties’ participation in military action with us, in accordance with our agreement. We decided to form the higher military-political committee. All the NDA leadership committee members ratied the strategic plan for stepping up military action so that it complements the SPLM’s military actions in south Sudan.79

Organizing the Sudanese opposition placed Eritrea at the helm of regional endeavors to topple the Bashir government. In January 1996, Afwerki elaborated on the Frontline States strategy: “Those who argue for patience, saying there are moderates in the National Islamic Front, or that a split is likely between the NIF and the military, are deceiving themselves. The stability of the region depends on the regime’s defeat. There is no more room for diplomacy, and no compromise. Eritrea will provide any type of support for the people of Sudan. The sky is the limit . . . We believe that its an obligation on the part of Eritrea because the Sudanese people supported us during our struggle for independence.”80 The regional consensus that viewed Sudan as the main obstacle to regional stability increased the pressures for international isolation. Fueled by Ethiopian and Egyptian international mobilization against Sudan for harboring terrorists, this campaign peaked in January 1996, when the U.N. Security Council adopted Resolution 1044 condemning Sudan’s threat to regional peace. Furthermore, the U.S. withdrew its embassy personnel from Khartoum citing concern about threats from extremist groups.81 In April 1996, the UN Security Council imposed sanctions that included limits on the travel of Sudanese government ofcials abroad and a ban on international conferences in Khartoum.82

204

CHAPTER SIX

In seeking to return Khartoum to the negotiations by boosting the military position of the south, the Frontline States strategy invariably compromised IGAD’s mediating hand, heightening Sudan’s misgivings about IGAD’s evenhandedness. With Eritrea, Uganda, and Ethiopia supporting the SPLA, the IGAD initiative became essentially a Kenyan affair. In the awkward position of IGADD’s chair, Kenya was vulnerable to Khartoum’s entreaties, saddling the mediation efforts with additional credibility problems.83 As one observer remarked, “IGAD’s initiative began to waver and lose direction after the deterioration of Sudan’s relations with Ethiopia, Eritrea and Uganda, leaving Kenya over-exposed politically.”84 In the circumstances of a weak Kenya presiding over a nominal IGAD mediation committee, the path was opened for competitive mediation initiatives. Filling the vacuum of a fraying IGAD were a welter of mediators from the Carter Center, Iran, Libya, Malawi, and South Africa, competing against each other, raising different expectations, and creating opportunities for the parties to manipulate the nature and scope of the negotiations. Confronted with an unyielding Khartoum government, the IGAD states depended on the IGAD Partners Forum (IPF) to restore order. The IPF’s diplomatic engagement paralleled (and at times complemented) the Frontline States strategy by providing resources and a modicum of organizational consistency to the peace process. The IPF reinforced IGAD through pressure on Khartoum and diplomatic support to the mediators. The IPF organized as a multilateral diplomatic caucus in February 1995 drawing on the previous efforts of U.S. Ambassador Melissa Wells. Set up to confer on food and economic issues, the forum soon evolved into a group of anti-Khartoum Western governments including the Netherlands, the United States, Italy, Canada, Britain, and Norway working to support the peace efforts. According to Garang: “When Sudan walked away from the negotiations in 1994 the IGAD countries were determined to continue with their initiative and so they asked for international reinforcement of the initiative, hence the formation of the Friends of IGAD. The Friends of IGAD have the interest of facilitating, assisting, reinforcing the IGAD peace initiative.”85 With the United States taking a hard-line stance toward Sudan, European countries, under Dutch leadership, spearheaded the Partner’s diplomatic efforts.86 The IPF intervened in May 1995 seeking to boost a limited ceasere that had been negotiated by former president Jimmy Carter. In March 1995, Carter had prevailed on the warring factions to agree on a two-months ceasere that would help a health campaign against Guinea worm infestation and river blindness in the south.87 Although Carter described his efforts as a step in the

IGAD MEDIATES SUDAN’S CIVIL WAR, 1993–1999

205

IGAD-led talks, some southern observers described Carter’s intervention as an opportunity for Khartoum to bypass IGAD. As Bona Malwal contended: Mr. Carter could have helped the peace better if he had associated the ceasere with the IGADD peace process. The IGADD committee has been calling for a cease-re for many months, and this had been constantly ignored by Khartoum. The IGADD countries could have provided the necessary external monitors to supervise the cease-re, something that is lacking from the Carter initiative. Bypassing the IGADD process has played into the regime’s hands. The regime has been desperately searching for an alternative to the IGADD process because it has not been able to deal with this regional initiative that seriously tackled the root causes of the Sudanese conict. The regime will now use the Carter initiative to try to kill off the IGADD process. Mr. Carter would be well advised to work with the IGADD peace committee in the search for a permanent solution to the Sudanese conict.88

With the collapse of Carter’s negotiated cease-re agreements in June 1995, the Dutch Cooperation Minister, Jan Pronk, proposed the extension to the original two-month cease-re and plans to monitor the cease-re.89 Pronk prodded Moi to reopen negotiations with Bashir on the ceasere extension. But while Moi achieved the extension in June 1995, he made no progress on the resumption of substantive talks for a long-term peace. In September 1995, Moi’s bids to restart the IGAD process collapsed when a Sudan government delegation in Nairobi failed to convince the SPLA to take part in a new round of talks outside the DOP framework. Further efforts by Pronk in May 1996 to revitalize the peace talks failed as Khartoum spurned IGAD and looked toward southern Africa for alternative mediators in Malawi, Mozambique, South Africa, Zambia, and Zimbabwe.90 Isolated regionally and internationally, the Bashir government focused on consolidating its domestic position. Shedding the image of a military junta, Khartoum organized presidential and legislative elections in March 1996 that solidied Bashir’s presidency and Turabi’s leadership as the speaker of the National Assembly. At the same time, the government launched peace talks with Machar’s SSIM, culminating in the signing in April 1996 of the Khartoum Peace Charter, in which Machar relinquished demands for southern autonomy. Although the agreement declared that the “unity of the Sudan with its known boundaries shall be preserved,” it provided for a referendum as a means for realizing the aspirations of the citizens of the south . . . after full establishment of peace, stability, and reasonable level of social development.” Furthermore, even though Islamic Sharia law and traditions would continue to be the basis of national legislation, the south would retain the right to enact special legislation to “complement federal law.”91 After signing the Khartoum Peace Charter, the

206

CHAPTER SIX

government pledged to use it in the search for a comprehensive agreement; as Vice-President George Kongor stated: “Ending the Sudanese civil war does not need foreign mediation. We shall talk among ourselves and achieve peace without the support of outsiders.”92 The standoff between Sudan and its neighbors strengthened the military dimension of the Frontline States strategy, underscored in the multi-pronged rebel offensive that started on the Eritrean border in December 1996. Posing the greatest challenge to the government since 1994, the SPLA and its NDA allies launched a military campaign that captured a string of towns and garrisons adjacent to the Ethiopian, Eritrean and Ugandan borders. Washington provided $20 million in “defensive” weapons to Eritrea, Ethiopia, and Uganda toward these efforts. With the NDA forces attacking government defenses on the Eastern front, Garang temporarily reestablished his positions in the south.93 The NDA was also emboldened when Sadiq el Mahdi, the Sudanese Prime Minister who was overthrown by the Islamists in 1989, ed to Eritrea in May 1997 and supported the NDA’s military campaign, convinced that Khartoum stood on the brink of revolution and collapse: “If it is possible to get rid of the regime peacefully, so much the better. But I can say that none of Sudan’s neighbors is disposed to support it any more.”94 By the summer of 1997, the coalition claimed that its military gains had tilted the balance of power on the battleeld. The SPLA maintained that its forces were closing in on the southern Sudanese regional capital, Juba, from four different approaches, and Garang boasted that the war was coming to an end.95 In response, the government launched a political and diplomatic offensive on the internal and external fronts. In April 1997, Bashir drew ve additional southern groups into a reinvigorated Khartoum Peace Charter that promised a cease-re in the south that would be followed by a four-year interim period leading to a referendum on self-determination.96 At the international level, Bashir began a broad diplomatic campaign to end Sudan’s isolation by pleading for the support of sympathetic Arab and Muslim states against what he characterized as conspiracy from a regional Afro-Christian alliance. As a result of the government’s weakening position, Moi nudged Bashir back to the negotiating table at an IGAD summit in Nairobi in July 1997, nally accepting the DOP as a basis for negotiations. Following the summit, the IGAD mediators struggled to transform Bashir’s acceptance into a sustained and detailed negotiating process. The IGAD Ministerial Committee seized the initiative by obtaining agreement for resumption of high- level talks in October 1997.97 But both parties viewed the resumption of the talks with cynicism. In the SPLA’s view: “There is not the least possibility of making any progress at the 28th October meetings for the following reasons: The Sudanese govern-

IGAD MEDIATES SUDAN’S CIVIL WAR, 1993–1999

207

ment is not serious and it only agreed to the IGAD initiative because it feels its political, military and economic weakness. There is nothing new. The only new thing here is that the government is trying to gain time. Second: After agreeing to the principles of the IGAD initiative, the government began to implement the so-called Khartoum agreement from within . . . We cannot predict the future. However, our understanding of the Government’s policies conrms that it is not serious about the negotiations. I do not expect to see anything new in these policies. We are doing our utmost to enter into and continue with the proposed negotiations. A better alternative would be the removal of this regime for the benet of the Sudanese, the region and the whole world.”98 Similarly, Bashir said that although Sudan was ready for peace, it would defend its federal nature and unity with force if necessary: “Our preparations for the coming phase of peace will continue . . . That will not divert us from being ready to defend ourselves, our dignity and the unity of our land in a context recognizing the characteristics of different regions under the umbrella of the federal system and constitutional decrees. There is no choice but to back up a just peace with power, to support security and stability.”99 During the October 1997 meetings, Kenya’s Foreign Minister Kalonzo Musyoka led a ministerial mediating team of the four IGAD states and Italian ambassador in Nairobi, Roberto di Leo, represented the chair of IPF. Sudan’s Foreign Minister Ali Osman Mohamed Taha headed the government delegation while Salva Kiir, the SPLA’s chief of staff, led the movement’s side. The IGAD mediators tried to force negotiations on the details of the DOP, but from the start, there was little progress, with the parties deeply divided on the issues of self-determination and secularism. The SPLA tabled a demand for a national unity government, composed of the government and the NDA that would organize a referendum on southern self-determination within two years. Khartoum, however, rejected this idea and proposed a four-year transition. The two sides also disagreed on who would participate in the referendum. The government proposed that every southerner should participate, while the SPLA insisting on only those with ancestral roots in the south. Similar disagreements marked discussions on the status of the Nuba Mountains and Southern Blue Nile region. Khartoum stated that they should not be involved in the referendum because they belong to the north, while the SPLA claimed them because of geographic and ethnic links to the south. Although Khartoum agreed to compromise on the religious issue, the government delegation refused to countenance the issue of a confederation.100 With the positions irreconcilable after two weeks of negotiations, the parties adjourned the talks until April 1998 to allow a phase of shuttle diplomacy by the mediators to bridge the gaps. At the height of the talks in November 1997,

208

CHAPTER SIX

the U.S. announced new sanctions against Khartoum that included a freeze on Sudanese assets in the US and a ban on nancial transactions because of Khartoum’s “continued sponsorship of international terror, its effort to destabilize neighboring countries and its abysmal record on human rights.”101 The timing of the sanctions reected Washington’s low expectations for the success of IGAD negotiations, but it became a salient propaganda coup to Sudan, which accused Washington of sabotaging the talks. As Bashir claimed: “When the SPLA was about to surrender to the logic of the government negotiators, the Americans issued the sanctions and the SPLA became tough. When we were about to reach a peace deal with the SPLA in Nairobi, America came up with the sanctions to feed Garang’s intransigence.”102 U.S. sanctions furnished more teeth to the Frontline States’ containment strategy, a policy that U.S. Secretary of State Madeline Albright reiterated on a visit to Eritrea, Ethiopia, and Uganda in December 1997. Meeting Garang and NDA members in Kampala, she lauded their role in laying “the groundwork for a new Sudan in which people of all faiths and cultures can focus on reconstruction.”103 According to Interior Minister, Bakri Hasan Salih: “We are aware that Garang does not possess the power to take his own decisions, for this power lies in the hands of certain regional and international parties. Consequently, we do not expect anything from Garang and we also expect a large number of his supporters to abandon him and join the peace march.”104

Egypt Defects From the Alliance Sanctions epitomized IGAD mediator’s dependence on Western donors for a carrot and stick strategy that had uncertain outcomes on the course of the negotiations. The Frontline States strategy brought pressure to bear on Sudan, but not sufcient enough to generate signicant concessions. This lack of movement in the negotiations, in turn, encouraged proponents of additional military pressure and economic sanctions. Yet as the military stance of the regional Frontline States overshadowed Kenya’s mediation, reconciling these strategies in the service of the peace process became enormously difcult for IGAD. The result was to heighten the tension between mediation and militarism. Further complicating IGAD’s position was the weakening of the two props underpinning the Frontline States Strategy – regional consensus about Sudan’s threat and the NDA’s increasing internal disarray. The rst component was predicated on maintaining a broad-based alliance that had converged around the theme of Khartoum’s role in exporting Islamic fundamentalism while the second was based on sustaining an amalgam of northern and southern opposition groups that wanted to get rid of the Bashir government.

IGAD MEDIATES SUDAN’S CIVIL WAR, 1993–1999

209

In October 1997, Egypt started to repair its relations with Sudan, ending a two-year period of animosity. Sudan’s Minister of State for Foreign Affairs Mustafa Osman Ismail emphasized the mutual security interests between the two countries: We believe that Egyptian-Sudanese relations are old and eternal relations. Hence they should always be sincere and warm and realize the interests of the Nile Valley peoples. We consider all that has befallen relations between the two countries in the past period as a mere summer cloud which is in the process of dispersing and dissipating through our constant principles, particularly as we are facing issues of destiny threatening the unity of the Nile Valley, its wealth, and its achievements. In other words, there is a danger to our nationalist and strategic issues, and this necessitates our sitting down together to talk and consult so as to transcend these issues, which are not really simple and which could happen because basically differences do occur in one country and even in one house. The real challenge lies in mustering the ability to sit around a table to tackle these differences.105

The traditional Egyptian fears that Sudan’s territorial disintegration could cause chaos at the mouth of the Nile and compromise Egypt’s water allocations inspired the Cairo-Khartoum rapprochement. Moreover, as Africa Condential noted: “Having considered Sudan its backyard since the pharaoh’s time, Cairo is angry that Ethiopia, Eritrea, and Uganda host the NDA . . . Cairo’s moves also reect its (and Arab governments’) fear of partition.”106 With the change in position, Cairo became the interlocutor between the NDA’s northern arm and Khartoum, a position that gradually grew into a frontal challenge on the IGAD initiative. In November 1997, Cairo proposed a constitutional conference in coordination with Libya comprised of the government and northern opposition parties that would restore Sudanese and Arab unity. When Sadiq al-Mahdi’s Umma Party, a key NDA player, held its Asmara convention in January 1998, it excluded its coalition partners and made only eeting references to the 1995 Asmara Agreement of unity between the NDA and Garang. Instead, speakers emphasized the loss of Sudan’s mineral riches if southern Sudan became independent and the importance of religion in politics. In its action plan, the Umma party reiterated its support for the IGAD initiative, but noted that “the initiative in its old context has been overtaken by circumstances and will no longer be effective unless it is developed with the participation of all the parties to the conict in Sudan, and unless its agenda deals with, in addition to the issue of peace, the issue of the country’s regime and the widening of IGAD membership to include Egypt, South Africa, Zimbabwe, and another Arab or Islamic country.”107 As Mahdi remarked: “How can Sudan’s problems be tackled without all the relevant parties being part of this effort, and without taking the constitutional transformation into account? Moreover, the IGAD mechanism in its current form cannot be sufcient because

210

CHAPTER SIX

there are elements among Sudan’s important neighbors, like Egypt, who must be included in this mechanism.”108 As the Egyptian-Libyan effort for northern reconciliation gained momentum, Bashir claimed that the focus was to reach an “agreement on a number of principles such as the unity of Sudan, keeping it away from foreign and external interference, and unity of ranks through either participation or coexistence.”109 At an NDA high command meeting in March 1998, Mahdi and Garang were absent, conrming the deepening rift in the alliance. Yet standing in the way of the Egyptian-Libya initiative was the IPF, suspicious of diplomatic attempts to preempt IGAD as it sought to restart negotiations. During an April 1998 visit to Netherlands, a Sudanese Democratic Unionist Party delegation made a case for the expansion of IGAD mediation: We talked with [IGAD partners] on the subject of peace, and I told them that Sudan is capable of resolving its own problems. We passed on some of our observations, including the fact that these IGAD states are not above suspicion because they are themselves states with upheavals, states involved in hostile activity toward Sudan, and it is impossible for them to be both adversary and authority. We said that we believed that the African element in Sudan is dominant at the expense of the Arab element and we suggested the addition of Arab elements to this [IGAD] partnership, including UN envoy Lakhdar Brahimi, a man known for his Arab endeavors. To include other elements from Africa, we proposed the addition of Senegalese President Abdou Diouf and Nelson Mandela to the IGAD group, so that it would include both an Arab and an African element.110

The resurgence of famine in southern Sudan in the spring of 1998 blunted demands for a new negotiating framework. With aid agencies reporting that warfare and drought threatened 350,000 southerners with death by starvation, donor’s attention focused on negotiating a ceasere between the combatants to permit the delivery of food and medical supplies. During an IGAD foreign ministers meeting with the IPF in Rome in March 1998, the latter took a leadership role in the peace process by designating Italian Undersecretary for Foreign Affairs, Rino Serri, to negotiate a ceasere that would reduce human suffering and provide a conducive climate for the resumption of IGAD talks. Serri visited Khartoum and arranged a unilateral cease-re. But in Nairobi, Garang was more ambiguous, supporting the call for cease-re on humanitarian grounds, but asking for government reassurances that it would not rearm and reorganize its forces.111 IGAD states refused to enlarge the peace process to accommodate Egypt, but they tried to build on Serri’s ceasere talks to restart the Nairobi talks. An IGAD committee of experts toured the Horn of Africa seeking opinions about the best approach to the next round of talks and met the principal players to assess their readiness to negotiate.112 As one observer noted: “There were some

IGAD MEDIATES SUDAN’S CIVIL WAR, 1993–1999

211

indications that the IGAD peace committee had better prepared itself for this round of talks than on previous occasions.”113 The Nairobi talks opened on May 4, 1998 with gloomy prognostications on both sides. Fueling the pessimism was Khartoum’s new Islamic constitution that had been approved by a national referendum on the eve of the talks. The constitution asserted Sudan’s Arab identity and unity, made Sharia law applicable to non-Muslim regions, and incorporated some provisions of the Khartoum Peace Charter with southern groups that promised future self-determination. In the pre-negotiation consultations, the government told IGAD envoys of its intention to table the new constitution at the Nairobi talks since it provided a response to the issues of southern freedoms and self-determination. The SPLA complained that by publishing an Islamic constitution the government had “slammed the door to the peace process in southern Sudan.”114 The IGAD mediators assembled several international actors at the opening session, including OAU representatives, IPF, and the U.N. Secretary General, Ko Annan. Annan appealed to both sides “to have the courage, the vision to make the sort of compromises necessary to come to a settlement.”115 The parties accomplished more in three days of negotiations than the mediators had envisaged. Lauding them for abiding by the IGAD principles, Kenyan Foreign Minister Bonaya Godana remarked, that unlike previous meetings, this round of talks had made “some signicant progress, not as much as we would have wanted or either of the parties would have wanted . . . I think in the area of self-determination there has been clearly some marked improvement from the last position in that both parties have accepted to respect the principle of self-determination for the people of south Sudan on the basis of a freely-conducted referendum under international supervision. The interim period would be negotiated and agreed on by the two parties through the IGAD process.”116 But the progress on self-determination bogged down on the question of southern Sudan’s boundaries. The SPLA maintained that southern Sudan included Southern Kordofan, southern Blue Nile, and the Abyei, an area mostly inhabited by the Dinka, and which had been annexed to Northern Sudan by a British colonial ruling in 1956. The government wanted to recognize southern boundaries that existed at independence that dened the south as the states of Bahr al-Ghazal, Equatoria, and Upper Nile. The parties also disagreed on the secularism and ceasere questions. Government negotiators stressed Sudan’s goal to safeguard cultural, racial, and religious diversity while the SPLA reiterated its commitment to secularism. Similarly, Khartoum proposed a cease-re to assist in humanitarian efforts, but the SPLA rejected the offer describing it as a “mere window dressing exercise calculated to mislead the international community.”117 These differences were

212

CHAPTER SIX

mirrored in the conicting assessments the parties gave after the May 1998 peace talks. Declaring them a resounding success, Foreign Minister Mustafa Ismail highlighted the achievements on self-determination and lambasted the SPLA’s stance on a confederal system: “The SPLA presented the idea of a confederal system and we refused that, because this is totally a clear violation of the DOP. Now this time we accept the referendum to be made for the people of south of Sudan as it had been dened on January 1, 1956. But the SPLM objected, saying that humanitarian aid should not be linked to the cease-re.” The SPLA branded the talks a failure because Khartoum did not offer anything new: “This round is a failure and not a success. Let’s go for a ceasere and work out the remaining interim arrangements. The parties should deliberate the two issues differently.”118 IGAD mediators scheduled a follow-up negotiating session in Addis Ababa, a period that coincided with the beginning of the Ethiopia-Eritrea border war. Embroiled in war, Addis Ababa had little time to focus on mediation. Furthermore, the war gradually diminished the regional component of the Frontline strategy and the Clinton administration’s containment policy. Frustrated with the war, the unending humanitarian crisis, and the sporadic pace of the negotiations European IPF members proposed an alternative framework for the independence of southern Sudan in June 1998.119 The proposal envisaged a ceasere followed by a transitional period in the south, jointly administered by the government and the SPLA; a referendum on self-determination for a south dened by the 1956 borders; and international monitors that would supervise the referendum. The plan assumed that southerners would vote for separation and Bashir gradually would restore political pluralism to the north. The United States and key IGAD states rejected the IPF scheme for attempting to strengthen the Bashir government and marginalizing important actors to the conict.120 Kenyan Foreign Minister Godana, for instance, warned: “IGAD would like those with an interest in establishing peace in southern Sudan to support and complement IGAD’s role and not start a parallel peace initiative.”121 Despite these criticisms, Britain led the IPF efforts to normalize diplomatic relations with Khartoum and to force negotiations on a ceasere to address humanitarian relief. Like the previous intervention by the Italian Minister, Serri, the British Minister in the Foreign Ofce, Derek Fatchett, brokered a threemonth ceasere agreement between Khartoum and the SPLA in mid-July 1998 that provided for “corridors of tranquility” to permit relief aid in the south. Fatchett suggested that each side could use the corridors as a starting point for a wider peace settlement, giving IGAD’s initiative a new lease of life.122

IGAD MEDIATES SUDAN’S CIVIL WAR, 1993–1999

213

On the eve of the Addis Ababa talks in early August 1998, Khartoum announced a “complete and comprehensive ceasere in all the war zones” expanding the scope of the July truce as a goodwill gesture. IGAD mediators invited the OAU Secretary General Salim to the Addis Ababa talks. Castigating the parties, Salim called for an urgent solution to the “senseless and indefensible” conict: “The conict in southern Sudan has gone on far too long . . . We must speak out and act more forcefully against its continuation because the tragedy . . . stigmatizes all of Africa as the outside world sees only a people too busy ghting to feed themselves. The images of suffering and starving children, women, and the elderly that are ashed around the world by the international media are an indictment on all of us and our collective humanity.”123 But not even Salim’s admonition made a difference at the table. In three days of talks, IGAD mediators failed to bridge the gaps on the long-standing issues of secularism, the southern boundaries, and the nature of transitional institutions that would govern prior to the referendum. With no convergence on any of the agenda items, the parties nevertheless agreed to meet in Nairobi in six months.124 With the collapse of the Addis Ababa talks, Egypt reentered the peace process, inviting NDA leaders to a Cairo convention in August 1998.125 In light of the reluctance of African states to admit Egypt into IGAD, hosting the NDA was a bid to wean its leaders from dependence on Ethiopia, Eritrea, and Uganda. In a declaration in Cairo, the NDA underlined the special ties binding Egypt and Sudan and afrmed that the “continued existence of Khartoum’s terrorist regime represents a real danger that threatens Sudan’s and Egypt’s security and stability, pan-Arab security, and Arab-African integration.” In renewing the NDA’s position for the inclusion of Egypt into IGAD, the declaration also afrmed the “principled adherence and commitment to Sudan’s unity, its racial, religious, and cultural diversity, the right to citizenship as a basis for rights and duties, and non-discrimination among the citizens because of race, religion, and color.”126 Garang saw the Cairo declaration as a means to reassure Egypt: We came to Egypt to explain our position, especially since many lies are made in order to defame the SPLM and distort its objectives. We explained to Cairo that the Sudanese regime poses a grave threat to Sudan and that it cannot be rectied or dealt with. Unlike the NIF’s propaganda, we are not separatists or against Arabism or Islam. We announced in Cairo that there would be no return to the old Sudan even if this regime were toppled. The SPLM calls for unity and supports those advocating this unity. However, this unity should be based on justice and equality among all. We also reassured Cairo that the proposal on a confederation was only a bargaining chip in reply to publicizing the idea of a

214

CHAPTER SIX

religious state and a religious constitution. When the regime insists on playing with the card of religion, we wave the card of a confederation.127

IGAD in the Context of Shifting Alliances and Power Relationships Shifts in the balance of power reduced Khartoum’s international and regional vulnerability, and served, gradually, to undercut IGAD’s ability to mediate the conict. The most important change concerned oil production in southern Sudan. In December 1998, a consortium of Malaysian, Canadian, Chinese, and British companies completed the construction of a pipeline to carry crude oil from the Nuer areas of Western Upper Nile to reneries and export terminals in the north. The yield of 150,000 barrels beginning in 1999 provided a $450,000 windfall to the budget. Pointing to oil’s signicance in reducing Sudan’s isolation, Bashir noted: “Our doors will be open to Asia and Europe, cooperation will ourish with those countries now that Sudan is on the threshold of producing oil.”128 Oil revenues boosted Khartoum’s investment prole and the country’s economy at a time when pressure mounted on the Clinton administration from domestic constituencies and in Europe to reassess its Sudan policy. The August 1998 cruise missile bombing of the Al-Shifa pharmaceutical plant compounded the administration’s position. Washington initially claimed that that facility manufactured chemical weapons and maintained links to fugitive Islamic militant Osama bin Laden. However, in a tacit admission that it lacked evidence to back the missile attack, Washington later decided to unfreeze the assets of a Saudi businessman who owns the factory. In March 1999, leading U.S. humanitarian agencies asked the Clinton administration to re-establish diplomatic contacts with Sudan to achieve regional stability and development. They further called for Washington to search for a comprehensive cease-re, work with the IPF and the United Nations to establish a timetable for a peace process, and persuade third parties to terminate nancial and military assistance to all sides in the war.129 In response to these pressures, President Clinton appointed former U.S. Representative Harry Johnston in May 1999 to be a special envoy to Sudan to focus international attention on the human rights situation, delivery of relief aid to vulnerable populations, and strengthen the IGAD peace process. In May 1999, Sudan and Eritrea resolved their differences. In settling the ve-year diplomatic dispute, Bashir and Afwerki agreed to restore diplomatic ties, halt negative media campaigns, and abstain from hosting or organizing international or regional conferences with the aim of adopting policies or coordinating activities that target the security and stability of neighboring countries.130 In early 1999, Sudan and Ethiopia also normalized relations. Later

IGAD MEDIATES SUDAN’S CIVIL WAR, 1993–1999

215

in the year, the Carter Center mediated an agreement between Khartoum and Kampala, further boosting the Bashir government. All these moves contributed to the collapse of the Frontline States Strategy. As its position improved, Khartoum reopened its search for new mediators throughout the spring and summer 1999. Key to the search was to reengage Egypt and Libya, rst to coax northern NDA parties out of the alliance with the SPLA, and second, to initiate negotiations with the south outside the IGAD framework. Bashir reconciled with Mahdi’s Umma Party following secret talks between Turabi and Mahdi in Geneva in May 1999.132 In prying northerners from the NDA, the government harped on its association with the southern cause as Ghazi Salah, Information Minister stated: “The leaders of the Sudanese opposition camp do not enjoy the clout in the Sudanese political streets that they once did and there are numerous things held against them, particularly those from the north who have fallen for the southerners and embraced their agendas especially with respect to secession of the south.”133 Khartoum also latched onto the notion of a comprehensive settlement differentiating it from “IGAD’s bilateral solution,” as Ghazi Salah noted: “The Sudanese Government and Sadiq al-Mahdi are in agreement that it is in the best interest of our country that there should be a broad-based accord that must include all the parties. Such a broad-based agreement will settle things once and for all . . . I think that the meeting that was held in Geneva has brought into being new dynamics in our relations that must be read in concert with the positive development in our relations with Egypt and Eritrea.”134 Libya’s Gadaf echoed the theme of comprehensiveness by calling for an “inclusive conference for all Sudanese where they can resolve their differences.”135 During the summer of 1999, Libya and Egypt pressured the NDA to abandon IGAD, as Mahdi acknowledged: I don’t call it pressure. All of Sudan’s neighbors are very much interested in what is taking place in the country . . . Egypt is bound to be interested in a peaceful resolution of Sudan’s problems. This does not mean that Egypt wants to exert pressure, but to play a role in nding a solution to the problem. Libya has developed a new African policy line. Is it conceivable for Libya to resolve African conicts without doing anything about the conict in Sudan? Therefore, I believe that Egypt and Libya are showing great interest in events in Sudan in order to nd a solution to the conict from the viewpoint of their security and relationship with the peoples of the region. The unusual thing would be if there was a lack of Egyptian or Libyan interest in the events in Sudan.136

Following Tripoli meetings in late July 1999, the NDA agreed to Gadaf’s proposal for a conference on national dialogue in a declaration that called for immediate cessation of military operations by all sides and the setting up of a mechanism to supervise it; halt to media propaganda; direct talks between the

216

CHAPTER SIX

government and opposition groups to reach a comprehensive political solution, which took into account Sudan’s unity and recognized the ethnic, religious and cultural diversity of the Sudanese people; and the establishment of a preparatory committee in charge of drawing up plans for a national conference. Subsequently, Egypt and Libya set up a joint committee to garner international support for the initiative.137 Sudan accepted the Egyptian-Libyan plan, claiming that it complemented IGAD. As Foreign Minister, Mustafa Ismail, remarked. “We are prepared to cooperate and we hope the initiative will have an outcome that will help in accommodating other initiatives. We are certainly committed to the IGAD initiative and Egypt’s efforts but we hope that there will be coordination that will advance the Libyan initiative.”138 The SPLA, however, rejected the Egyptian-Libyan initiative with Garang’s warning of the dangers of “parallel tracks” that were not integrated into IGAD: IGAD process is unique. In the rst place it has gone directly to the core of the issue. The IGAD peace initiative recognizes the unity of the Sudan and advises the Sudanese that if you are going to have a united country it must be based on the following principles. This has been enunciated in the declaration of principles . . . The IGAD peace process does not gloss over the fundamental issues that led to the war in the rst place, unlike other initiatives that would just out of the blue call for a comprehensive cease-re and without regard to the fundamental issues. The cease-re in the declaration of principles is part of that comprehensive settlement. This is one aspect of the IGAD peace process which is positive. Secondly, it is led by the neighbors of Sudan that have a stake in peace and security and stability in the Sudan. If there is a quarrel in your neighborhood, at the minimum the noise there will disturb you.139

The challenge to Egyptian-Libyan initiative was three-fold. First, whether the divided NDA could marshal a consensus to carry through the plan’s major provisions, especially the appointment of representatives to the preparatory committee. By mid-October 1999, pro-SPLA factions, citing government continued bombing of the south and east, blocked the formation of an NDA team.140 Second, having been at the forefront of opposition to Cairo’s membership in IGAD, Kenya was less willing to entertain the Libya-Egyptian plan that most IGAD states viewed as competitive rather than complementary. Third, in trying to supplant the IGAD initiative, Cairo and Tripoli had to contend with the United States. Susan Rice, U.S. Assistant Secretary of State for African Affairs and David Scheffer, a U.S. Ambassador for war crimes issues, wrote a well-publicized article denouncing Khartoum’s charm offensive: To the unsuspecting and uninitiated, this latest charm campaign has every appearance of legitimacy. A quick glimpse within Sudan’s borders, however, reveals a world of famine, slavery, torture, religious persecution, rape, massacres, pillage and

IGAD MEDIATES SUDAN’S CIVIL WAR, 1993–1999

217

looting. The Sudanese population and the world community should not be taken in by the new government rhetoric . . . If the Khartoum government were serious about fullling its expressed commitments, it could demonstrate as much by taking a number of steps. It could begin by negotiating seriously in the [IGAD] peace process, which it has consistently acted to undermine thus far.141

Visiting Nairobi in October 1999, Secretary of State Albright also supported IGAD: “We do not support other processes that some are suggesting, the Egyptians, the Libyans. We believe that through the work of IGAD, Kenya’s leadership in it, our support in it, we can hope to make some signicant steps in the future that might lessen the horror, dying, and slavery that is taking place in Sudan.”142 After meeting with Albright, Garang was buoyed in his stance on the Egyptian-Libyan initiative: “Any other peace initiatives are welcome, but must be supportive of the IGAD peace process, rather than competitive or parallel to it.”143 Despite mounting criticisms, Egypt and Libya proceeded in November 1999 to create a Joint Egyptian-Libyan Committee for National Accord in Sudan to work out an agenda for action, including ways of coordinating with IGAD.144 The new U.S. special envoy Harry Johnston attempted a compromise with NDA leaders in Cairo and Kampala in late 1999. Johnston proposed that although the United States adhered to the IGAD initiative, it favored the participation of all the opposition forces in a peace process that excluded Libya. Toward this end, the U.S would expand the IGAD plan with the Sudanese opposition participating collectively in a unied delegation under SPLA leadership, while Egypt would obtain IGAD observer status.145 Johnston invited the NDA representatives to Washington for a U.S.-sponsored strategy conference. But, meeting in Kampala in December 1999, the NDA leadership rejected the compromise proposal and the Washington invitation. As the NDA’s ofcial spokesman remarked, “the Sudanese opposition could not countenance to be put under U.S. tutelage.”146 In December 1999, Bashir dissolved parliament and declared a three-month state of emergency following an escalating power struggle with the speaker of parliament Turabi. Bashir consolidated his power and started marginalizing Turabi.147 At the same time, Bashir weakened the NDA by signing an agreement with Sadiq al-Mahdi in Djibouti that paved the way for the latter’s return to Sudan. Egypt and Libya lauded Turabi’s demise as the end of political extremism that would improve the chances of a comprehensive agreement.

218

CHAPTER SIX

Conclusion: Assessing IGAD’s Role The coalescence of regional and internal factors diminished IGAD’s capacity to be an authoritative interlocutor in the civil conict, raising doubts about the future of the talks. In six years of engaging Sudanese parties, IGAD mediators had confronted problems of coordinating regional strategies, fending off competitive mediators, and managing their international partners. Invited to participate in civil conicts, African regional organizations confront problems akin to those of state mediators and elder statesmen. Invitation and acceptance afford regional organizations the opportunity to participate in effecting change in intractable intrastate conicts, but such participation does not guarantee success. Like the other mediation contexts, regional mediation is contingent on how the actors seize their invitational roles, use their strategic advantages, and mobilize external resources and actors in steering disputants to peaceful solutions. Yet, unlike other mediation contexts, African regional organizations have to manage the diverse claims of alliance membership and collective responsibility as they also learn the intricate tasks of sitting in between disputants. African regional organizations face the obstacles of evolving structures for cooperation and deploying these structures for intervention in internal conicts. Khartoum invited IGAD to mediate because of its assumption that membership in the regional organization would insulate the conict from intrusive external actors. The government had mixed motives, believing that its inuence in IGAD would persuade the mediators to pressure the SPLA into an agreement favorable to the regime. IGAD, however, transformed its mandate into a comprehensive peace process captured in the DOP. In coalescing around the DOP as the essential framework for a settlement, IGAD states demonstrated institutional resolve and tenacity. Even as the peace process faltered with the parties prevarication and IGAD’s cohesion frayed, the DOP evolved into the principal instrument for resolving the conict. IGAD compensated for its organizational weaknesses by inviting external partners into the process, exemplied by its relations with the IPF and participation in the Clinton administration’s anti-Khartoum policy. Yet dependence on external actors raised the question of how IGAD could reconcile the use of coercive tactics with the management of mediation roles. Watkins and Winters describe the dangers of coercive strategies that undermine the role of mediators as one of the dilemmas of leadership in mediation: “coercive power confers some benets but it can also undermine the interveners ability to perform some traditional mediation functions . . . coercive power can be used to control the disputants’ behavior, but not to change their attitudes.”148 IGAD’s Frontline States strategy attempted to redress the power imbalances

IGAD MEDIATES SUDAN’S CIVIL WAR, 1993–1999

219

in the conict and strengthened the coercive power of regional actors, but these tactics failed to enhance its bargaining leverage. As Khartoum became resilient in the face of coercion, it became difcult for IGAD to sustain a credible mediation process.

Notes 1. Francis M. Deng, “Africa’s Dilemma in the Sudan,” World Today, vol. 54, no. 3, March 1998, p. 73. 2. Abdelwahab El-Affendi, “The Impasse in the IGAD Peace Process for Sudan: The Limits of Regional Peacemaking?” African Affairs, vol. 100, no. 401, 2001, p. 586. 3. For a good background to the conict see Francis M. Deng, War of Visions: Conict of Identities in the Sudan (Washington, D.C.: The Brooking Institution, 1995); Dunstan M. Wai, The African-Arab Conict in the Sudan (New York: Africana Publishing House, 1981); M. W. Daly and Ahmad Sikainga, eds, The Civil War in the Sudan (London: British Academy Press, 1993); and Ann Lesch, The Sudan: Contested National Identities (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1998). 4. For discussions of previous mediation efforts see Hizkias Assefa, Mediation of Civil Wars: Approaches and Strategies, The Sudan Conict (Boulder: Westview, 1987); Ann Mosley Lesch, “Negotiations in Sudan,” in David Smock and Chester Crocker, eds., Making War and Waging Peace: Foreign Intervention in Africa (Washington, D.C.: US Institute of Peace, 1993), pp. 107–37; Christopher R. Mitchell, “The Process and Stages of Mediation: Two Sudanese Cases,” in David Smock and Chester Crocker, Making War and Waging Peace: Foreign Intervention in Africa, pp. 139–59. 5. Judy Mayotte, “Civil war in the Sudan: The Paradox of Human Rights and National Sovereignty,” Journal of International Affairs, vol. 47, no. 2, Winter 1994, pp. 497–524. 6. Ann Mosely Lesch, “Negotiations in Sudan,” in David Smock and Chester Crocker, Making War and Waging Peace: Foreign Intervention in Africa, pp. 124–5. 7. Herman J. Cohen, Intervening in Africa: Superpower Peacemaking in a Troubled Continent (New York: Macmillan, 2000) pp. 72–81. 8. “Sudanese Leader Stresses Achievement of National Peace,” British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC), Summary of World Broadcasts, August 19, 1991. See also the comments of information minister: “We are studying the Nigerian experiment in the federal system to benet from it in proceeding towards federation in Sudan.” 9. For discussions of the SPLA split see P. A. Nyaba, The Politics of Liberation in South Sudan: An Insider’s View (Kampala: Fountain Publishers, 1997) and Peter Kok, “Sudan: Between Restructuring and Deconstruction of State Systems,” Review of African Political Economy, no. 70, 1996, pp. 558–560. 10. “Intensication of War in South,” and “Fall of Southern Towns to Government Forces,” Keesing’s Contemporary Record of World Events, March 1992, pp. 38799–38800; and pp. 38854–38855. 11. Robert O. Collins, “Africans, Arabs, and Islamists: From the Conference Tables to the Battleelds in the Sudan,” African Studies Review, vol. 42, no. 2, September 1999, pp. 113–114.

220

CHAPTER SIX

12. For detailed analysis of the Abuja talks see Steven Wöndu and Ann Mosley Lesch, Battle for Peace in Sudan: An Analysis of the Abuja Conferences, 1992–1993 (Washington, D.C.: University Press of America, 2000); and Robert O. Collins, “Africans, Arabs, and Islamists,” pp. 113–114. 13. Cited in Steven Steven Wöndu and Ann Lesch, Battle for Peace, p. 113. 14. “Intensication of War in South,” Keesing’s Contemporary Record of World Events, March 1992, pp. 38799–38800. 15. “Sudanese Peace Talks: Report on Delegations’ Joint Communiqué,” BBC Summary of World Broadcasts, June 8, 1992; “Sudan: Government, Rebels Agree on ‘Multi-cultural, Multi-religious’ Solution,” Arab Press Service Organization, vol. 36, no. 23, June 6, 1992. 16. Steven Wöndu and Ann Lesch, Battle for Peace, p. 65. 17. During Abuja II, Nigerian Interior minister Tunji Olagunju, chairman of the peace talks, proposed joint mediation in a visit to Kenya and Uganda, but the Sudanese government turned it down because it exceeded the terms of reference of the Abuja negotiations. As a government spokesman, Ali al-Haj, observed: “attempts to settle the problem of the civil war outside the framework of direct talks is an infringement on Sudanese sovereignty and has to be rejected,” see “Sudan Against Peace Talks Summit: Report,” Agence France Presse, May 14, 1993. 18. “Khartoum Discusses Rebel Group Negotiations,” FBIS-Afr-93– 037, February 8, 1993, p. 8; “Museveni Opens Sudanese Peace Talks in Entebbe,” FBIS-Afr-93–037, February 22, 1993, p. 5; “Sudanese Minister Hails Moi’s Role in Peace Process,” FBIS-Afr-93–037, February 26, 1993, p. 7; “Sudan: Ofcial says SPLA Leader Garang to Attend Abuja Talks,” BBC Summary of World Broadcasts, no. ME/1633/A, March 10, 1993; “Sudan Condent of Nigeria’s Mediation,” Xinhua News Agency, March 9, 1993; “Peace Process Difculty in the South,” Keesing’s Record of World Events, March 1993, p. 39355. 19. For a summary of Abuja II see Steven Wöndu and Ann Lesch, pp. 96–119; “Sudan Against Peace Talks Summit: Report,” Agence France Presse, May 14, 1993; “Nigeria Seeks Compromise Formula in Sudan Peace Talks,” Reuters, May 1, 1993; “Nigeria Seeks Compromise Formula in Sudan Peace Talks,” Reuters, May 1, 1993; “Garang Views Formula for Two Confederal States,” FBIS-Nes-93–125, July 1, 1993, p. 14. 20. Communique issued at the adjournment of talks between SPLA and government, May 7–25 1993, Nairobi, May 1993. 21. Gill Lusk, “Abuja Fails Again,” Middle East International, vol. 451, May 28, 1993, p. 12. 22. Manoah Esipisu, “U.N. Launches Food Airlifts to Southern Sudan,” Reuters, June 12, 1993; Pauline Jelinek, “Civil War in Southern Sudan Destroys Life for the People,” Calgary Herald, June 15, 1993, p. C7; “Sudan: Pressure on Garang,” Middle East International, vol. 452, June 11, 1993, pp. 13–14. 23. “Sudan Opposes Creation of ‘Safe Areas’ in Southern Sudan,” The Xinhua News Agency, June 5, 1993. 24. Mark C. Huband, “Thousands Flee New Fighting in Famine-racked Southern Sudan,” Washington Post, August 18, 1993, p. A 27; Horace Awori, “Sudan: SPLA Faces Toughest Test yet,” Inter Press Service, August 13, 1993; Horace Awori, “Sudan: Council of Churches asks U.N. to Intervene in Civil Strife,” Inter Press Service, August 17, 1993; “Rebel in-ghting Fuels Government Offensive,” Africa Research Bulletin, August 1–31, 1993, pp. 11127–28.

IGAD MEDIATES SUDAN’S CIVIL WAR, 1993–1999

221

25. “Sudan: Bashir’s Army Day Speech: Claims Victory over SPLA Leader Garang,” BBC Summary of World Broadcasts, August 17, 1993. 26. John West, “Sudan Government’s Offensive May Alarm Neighbors,” Reuters, August 12, 1993. 27. Jeffrey Rubin, Intermediaries and Third Party Intervention (New York: Praeger, 1982) p. 13 argues that in asymmetrical power relations external mediators need to apply pressure to the strong party to enable it to wage the conict through means other than coercion. By engaging the weak in negotiations, the strong party nullies its original capabilities and offsets the power discrepancy. See also I. William and Saadia Touval, “International Mediation: Conict Resolution and Power Politics,” Journal of Social Issues, vol. 42, no. 1, 1985, pp. 27–45. 28. In informal secret deliberations at Abuja the dubbed the Committee of Elders, for instance, the government delegation according to Wondu and Lesch, “expressed concern that John Garang’s planned visit to Europe and the United States was aimed at inviting the United States to intervene in the Sudan. They wanted the SPLM not to invite the United States to intervene in the Sudan,” p. 143. 29. Sharon Pauling and John Prendergast, “NGO Policy Statement on Sudan,” Africa News, June 1, 1993. See also Abdal Salam Sidahmed, “Why Sudan’s Peace Talks are Doomed to Fail,” Middle East International, vol. 452, June 11, 1993, pp. 17–18; Bona Malwal, “When will the World Intervene in Sudan?” Sudan Democratic Gazette, July 1993. 30. Greg McIvor and Moyiga Nduru, “Sudan: Guerrillas Accused of Swiping Aid from Civilian Population,” Inter Press Service, July 8, 1993; Robert M. Press, “In Sudan, a ‘Famine Triangle’: Sparring Rebel Factions, Forcing Civilians to ee, Complicate Relief Agencies’ Efforts,” Christian Science Monitor, July 14, 1993, p. 2. 31. Norman Kempster, “Terrorism Case Puts Focus on Secretive Sudan,” Los Angeles Times, June 26, 1993, p. 16; Don Scott, “Disaster in Sudan: Why is West Ignoring the Cries for Aid?” Ottawa Citizen, July 27, 1993, p. A7; “U.S. Review of Sudan Terrorist Link Gains Urgency,” Washington Post, June 27, 1993, p. A 21; Kim Murphy, “Sudan’s Road to Social Justice Paved with Fear,” Los Angeles Times, August 16, 1993, p. 8. 32. “Sudan Criticizes IMF for Suspending its Membership,” Xinhua News Agency, August 10, 1993. 33. “Sudan: Turabi’s Unconvincing Transition,” Africa Condential, vol. 34, no. 21, October 22, 1993, pp. 1–3. 34. “Sudan: Turabi’s Unconvincing Transition,” pp. 1–3. 35. For analyses of the poor state of the economy see “Sudan: Economy,” Keesing’s Record of World Events, January 1994, p. 40091; “Anti-government Demonstrations,” Africa Research Bulletin, October 1–30, 1993, p. 11202; “Unconvincing Transition?” Africa Condential, October 22, 1993. 36. “Regional Politics: IGADD summit,” FBIS-Afr-93–181, 21 September 1993, p. 1. See also previous comments by foreign minister “Sudan: Foreign Minister Looks Forward to OAU Summit,” BBC Summary of World Broadcasts, ME/1711/A, June 10, 1993. 37. “Regional Politics: IGADD Summit,” FBIS-Afr-93–181, 21 September 1993, p. 1; “IGADD Peace Initiative,” Keesing’s Record of World Events, September 1993, p. 39626. 38. “Statement by Dr. Hussein Suleiman Abu Salih, Minister of Foreign Affairs,” March 1994. 39. Steven Wöndu and Ann Lesch, Battle for Peace, p. 153. An informant also revealed that: “From the outset, Bashir thought Moi was pliable and malleable, but gradually this perception changed.” Interview, Washington, D.C., September 1997.

222

CHAPTER SIX

40. Abdelwahab El-Affendi, “The Impasse in the IGAD Peace Process for Sudan: The Limits of Regional Peacemaking?” African Affairs, vol. 100, no. 104, October 2001, p. 686. 41. Sudan speeded up these efforts at the height of its military offensive against Garang’s forces generating doubts about its sincerity in Kampala, see “Sudan Peace Talks Fail to Take-off,” Xinhua News Agency, August 12, 1993. 42. Steven Wöndu and Ann Lesch, p. 153, note starkly: “Although SPLM leaders were initially uncomfortable with the composition of the peace committee and the way they were approached, they knew that they had no alternative.” 43. “SPLA Faction Leader on Numerous Topics,” FBIS-Nes-94–026, February 8, 1994, p. 12. 44. “East Africa: Leaders Set up Mediation Committee on Sudan,” Inter Press Service, September 7, 1993; “IGADD Summit in Addis Ababa,” BBC Summary of World Broadcasts, no. AL/1788/A, September 8, 1993. 45. Harry Johnston and Ted Dagne, “The Crisis in Sudan: The North-South Conict,” Mediterranean Quarterly, vol. 7, no.3, Spring 1996, p. 3. 46. Interview with informant, Addis Ababa, June 1996. For a good account of the impact of the internecine SPLA split on its international standing see Gill Lusk, “Pressures on Garang,” Middle East International, vol. 452, June 11, 1993, pp. 11–12. 47. Washington Declaration, October 22, 1993. See also Gill Rusk, “SPLA Reconciliation,” Middle East International, vol. 462, November 5, 1993, p. 12. 48. “Spokesman: Washington ‘Party’ to Conflict,” FBIS-Nes-93–208, October 29, 1993, p. 20; and “Bashir Condemns Washington’s Moves,” New Vision (Kampala), November 8, 1993. 49. “Sudan: Turabi’s Unconvincing Transition,” p. 3. 50. Interview, Kenyan Foreign Affairs Ofcial, Nairobi, August 2000. 51. Interview with IGAD informant, Nairobi, January 18, 2001. 52. Abdelwahab El-Affendi, “The Impasse in the IGAD Peace Process for Sudan,” p. 584. 53. “Minister on Garang Talks, U.S. Involvement,” FBIS-Nes-94–002, January 4, 1994, p. 15. 54. Horace Awori, “Sudan: SPLA Factions Agree on Common Agenda for Peace Talks,” Inter Press Service, January 7, 1994. 55. “Government Afrms Willingness to Meet Rebels,” FBIS-Nes-94–006, January 10, 1994, p. 16. 56. Horace Awori, “Sudan-Peace: President Bashir Fails to Turn up for Talks in Kenya,” Inter Press Service, February 18, 1994; “Moi Condemns Khartoum for Hostilities,” Daily Nation (Nairobi), February 2, 1993. 57. Nhial Bol and Horace Awori, “Sudan-peace: Khartoum Admits Clashes with Rebels in the South,” Inter Press Service, February 15, 1994; “Sudan: U.N. Chief Condemns New Offensive in the Sudan,” Inter Press Service, February 11, 1994; “Statement of the IGADD Committee of Heads of State on the Sudan Conict,” Nairobi, March 18, 1994; “IGADD Peace Talks Begin,” Daily Nation, March 18, 1994; “Kenya’s Moi opens Peace Meeting,” FBIS-Nes-94–053, March 18, 1994, pp. 14–15. 58. “Sudan: A Tragic Stalemate,” Africa Condential, vol. 35, no. 3, March 18, 1994, p. 2. 59. Horace Awori, “Sudan-Politics: Still Talking about Peace,” Inter Press Service, May 23, 1994; “Sudanese Peace Open,” Daily Nation, May 21, 1994; “‘Warring Faction Refuses to Sign treaty as scheduled,” Daily Nation, April 12, 1994; “IGADD Meeting on Aid Suspended,” FBIS-Nes-94–073, April 15, 1994, p. 16; “Government Delegation Issues Statement,” FBIS-Nes-94–072, April 15, 1994, p. 17; “Sudan: Peace Talks,” Africa Research Bulletin, May 1–30, 1994, p. 11454; Steven Wöndu and Ann Lesch, pp. 154–55;

IGAD MEDIATES SUDAN’S CIVIL WAR, 1993–1999

223

60. “Draft Declaration of Principles,” Nairobi, May 24, 1994. For good analysis of the DOP see Francis M. Deng, “Mediating the Sudanese Conict: A Challenge for the IGADD,” CSIS Africa Notes, Number 169, February 1995, pp. 1–7; and InterAfrica Group, IGADD Mediation of the Sudanese Conict, Report by Inter-Africa Group-Resource Persons, Addis Ababa, July 1994. 61. “Al-Bashir, U.S. Envoy Meet: Foreign Minister Comments,” FBIS-Afr-94–Nes-064, April 4, 1994, p. 19; “Sudan: U.S. Warning,” Africa Research Bulletin, April 1–30, 1994, p. 11415. 62. For initial accounts of Wells’ mission see “U.S. Envoy Arrives with Clinton Letter,” FBIS-Nes-94–113, June 13, 1994, pp. 19–20; “Foreign Minister on U.S. Relations,” FBISAfr-94–119, 21 June 1994, pp. 15–16; “Wells Meets Southern Assembly Members,” FBISNes-94–117, June 17, 1994, p. 14. 63. Interviews with American and African informants, Nairobi, and Addis Ababa, April and June 1996. See particularly her role in the negotiations for a cease-re in July 1994, “Minister, U.S. Envoy Review IGADD Talks,” FBIS-Nes-94–147, July 23, 1994, p. 23; “Garang Group Reportedly Declares Cease-re,” FBIS-Nes-94–147, July 29, 1994, p. 19; “Khalifah, U.S. Envoy Discuss Peace Talks,” FBIS-Nes-94–147, August 1, 1994, p. 26. 64. “Uganda, Sudanese Leaders Hold Talks in Austria,” and “Talk Termed ‘Tough, Productive’,” FBIS-Weu-94–104, May 31, 1994, pp. 1–2; “Sudanese President Calls Talks with Uganda ‘Successful’,” FBIS-Weu-94–104, June 1, 1994, p. 4. 65. See, for instance, the account in “U.S. Reportedly Seeking to Partition Sudan,” FBIS-Nes94–216, September 12, 1994, p. 27, which links IGADD initiatives to attempts to partition Sudan and, therefore, the “unity of Islam;” and “Al-Bashir on Iraqi, ‘Jihad,’ U.S. Imperialism,” FBIS-Nes-94–216, November 8, 1994. 66. Nhial Bol, “Sudan-Politics: Lack of Progress Reported in Nairobi peace Talks,” Inter Press Service, July 26, 1994. 67. “Speech by President Daniel arap Moi on the Occasion of Sudanese Peace Talks,” September 6, 1994, Nairobi and “President Receives Report on the Sudan,” Daily Nation, September 8, 1994. 68. “Sudan’s Position on ‘State and Religion’ and ‘Self-determination’: Report on Government Position on the Fourth Round of IGADD Talks that Took Place in Nairobi, September 7, 1994,” Nairobi, Embassy of Sudan, September 22, 1994. See also Horace Awori, “Sudan-Peace: Regional-sponsored Talks Collapse,” Inter Press Service, September 8, 1994; “Sudanese Peace Talks Reach Stalemate in Nairobi,” FBIS-Afr-94–174, September 8, 1994, p. 1; “Spokesman Suggest New Mechanism for Negotiations,” FBIS-Nes-94–169, August 31, 1994, p. 17. See also Nhial Bol, “Sudan-Politics: Any Prospect for Peace?” Inter Press Service, August 29, 1994; Horace Awori, “Sudan-Politics: Peace Talks in Danger,” Inter Press Service, August 25, 1994; “Minister Outlines Framework for Peace Talks,” FBISNes-94–174, September 8, 1994, p. 25; Horace Awori, “Sudan-Politics: Moi on Talks about Talks,” Inter Press Service, September 16, 1994. 69. Nhial Bol, “Sudan-Politics: Civil War Threatens Regional Stability,” Inter Press Service, September 5, 1994. 70. Interviews with Kenyan ofcials, Nairobi, July 1996. See also Sudan Democratic Gazette, October 1994. 71. “Statement by the Heads of State of IGADD Committee on the Sudanese Conict, Nairobi, September 19, 1994”; Horace Awori, “Sudan: Four African leaders Meet in Nairobi to Resolve Conict,” Inter Press Service, September 19, 1994.

224

CHAPTER SIX

72. “Al-Bashir Returns, says Unity not Negotiable,” FBIS-Nes-94–183, September 21, 1994, p. 13. 73. Nhial Bol, “Sudan-Peace: Kenyan Envoy Visits War-torn South,” Inter Press Service, November 1, 1994; “Kenyan Envoy Pays Visit, Meets with Ofcials,” FBIS-Nes-94–218, November 10, 1994, pp. 10–11; Nhial Bol, “Sudan-Politics: Khartoum Rejects Eritrea’s Mediation Role,” Inter Press Service, January 10, 1995; “Relations Between Sudan, Uganda said to be Worsening,” FBIS-Afr-94–193, October 5, 1994, pp. 1–2; “Bashir unhappy at IGADD’s partiality, says talks at dead end,” BBC Summary of World Broadcasts, September 22, 1994. 74. See “Testimony by E. Brynn on U.S. Policy Toward Sudan,” U.S. Department of State Bureau of African Affairs, March 22, 1995. Speaking during January 1995 independence celebration, Bashir called for a jihad against unbelievers of Islam and promised to train one million people to defend the country and faith. “Sudan: Call for jihad,” Keesing’s Record of World Events, January 1995, p. 40348. See also Nhial Bol, “Sudan-politics: Muslim leader declares war on secularism,” Inter Press Service, October 10, 1994; and Francis M. Deng, “Africa’s Dilemmas in the Sudan,” World Today, March 1998, pp. 72–5. 75. Nhial Bol, “Sudan-Refugees: Eritreans prepare to go home,” Inter Press Service, October 31, 1994; Nhial Bol, “Sudan-Eritrea: diplomatic row erupts over destabilization claims,” Inter Press Service, November 29, 1994; Nhial Bol and Charles Wachira, “Sudan-Eritrea: Khartoum Appeals to Asmara not to Close Embassy,” Inter Press Service, December 6, 1994; “Oppositionists said Training for Guerrilla War,” FBIS-Nes-94–189, September 29, 1994, p. 16–17; Hilletework Mathias, “Eritrea-Sudan,” Voice of America, February 1995; see also “Eritrea: Afwerki on Relations with U.S., Sudan,” FBIS-Afr-95–020, January 31, 1995, p. 5; “Eritrea: Ambassador to Washington on U.S, Sudan Ties,” FBIS-Afr-95–027, February 9, 1995, p. 1; “President says ‘War’ Being Waged by Sudan, Others,” FBISAfr-95–001, January 3, 1995, p. 3; Jim Fisher-Thompson “Eritrean President Makes Big Impression in Washington: Moose Comments on Isaias Visit,” USIA, February 15, 1995. 76. Edmond Kizito, “Uganda-Sudan Dispute worsens,” Reuters, April 23, 1995; Edmond Kizito, “Uganda Breaks Diplomatic Relations with Sudan,” Reuters, April 23, 1995; Nhial Bol, “Sudan-Uganda: Khartoum Urges OAU to Mediate,” Inter Press Service, April 24, 1995; Edmond Kizito, “Uganda-Sudan Break is Culmination of Years of Suspicion,” Reuters News Service, April 25, 1995; “Sudan Welcomes Malawi Mediation,” Africa Research Bulletin, June 1995, p. 11842; “Museveni’s Misgivings,” The Indian Ocean Newsletter, April 29, 1995, p. 2. For the string of diplomatic initiatives to mediate the two see “Sudan, Uganda in Diplomatic Row,” African Economic Digest, April 4, 1995, p. 24. As one observer noted: “In a bid to remedy his difculties, the Ugandan president is expected to turn to his Western allies, in particular, the United States, for more military hardware and counselors. Even if this does make him appear, in Khartoum’s eyes, as an active destabilizing agent working against the Sudanese regime.” 77. Charles W. Corey, “OAU Chairman Criticizes Sudanese Government: ‘Factor of instability’ in region, U.S. Information Agency, October 24, 1995 78. John Garang de Mabior, “The Shaping a New Sudan,” Mediterranean Quarterly, vol. 7, no.4 Fall 1996, pp. 9–11. 79. “Sudan People’s Liberation Movement Leader Details Areas Under their Control,” BBC Summary of World Broadcasts, no. EE/D2519/ME, January 25, 1996. 80. “Sudan Isolation Deepens,” Africa Research Bulletin, 1–31 January 1996, p. 1211; “Sudan: Deteriorating relations with Ethiopia,” Keesing’s Record of World Events, January 1996, pp. 408–91.

IGAD MEDIATES SUDAN’S CIVIL WAR, 1993–1999

225

81. “Sudan: Regime Seeks Alliances,” Africa Research Bulletin, March 1–31, 1996, pp. 122–42. 82. “Ofcial accuses Egypt of Involvement in Latest “Ugandan Attack,” BBC Summary of World Broadcasts, no. EE/D2474/ME, November 29, 1995; Nhial Bol, “Africa-Politics: Sudan Blames Neighbors as Rebel Offensive Rages,” Inter Press Service, November 1, 1995; “Sudan said to Mobilize Against Uganda,” United Press International, November 9, 1995; Anna Borzello, “Uganda-Sudan-Politics: Your Enemy, my Friend,” Inter Press Service, November 10, 1995. 83. See for instance, the Voice of America report on January 24, 1995, charging that: “Reliable sources with close ties to the peace effort say the Sudanese government has bribed or attempted to bribe East African ofcials involved in the mediation process. The [anonymous] sources claim pay-offs were made or offered by Sudan to get key ofcials to obstruct and delay the peace initiative . . . The sources contend that at least one Kenyan government ofcial who holds a key position in the mediation effort has been compromised, and at least one other rejected the bribe offer.” Cited in Sudan Update, vol. 6, no. 1, January 23, 1995. IGADD and Sudanese ofcials later refuted these charges. 84. Interview with American ofcial, Nairobi, June 2001. 85. “Garang says Peace will Eventually be Realized,” Daily Nation, 24 October 1997, p. 7. 86. “Friends of IGADD,” Africa Condential, March 31, 1995. 87. Alex Belida, “Interview-Sudan Cease-re React,” Voice of America, March 28, 1995; Nhial Bol, “Sudan-Politics: No Fanfare over Unilateral Cease-re,” Inter Press Service, March 29, 1995; Alex Belida, “Sudan-Talks,” Voice of America, March 30, 1995; Alex Belida, “Sudan-Rebels,” Voice of America, March 30, 1995. 88. Bona Malwal, “The Jimmy Carter Initiative,” Sudan Democratic Gazette, March 1995. For similar criticisms see Robert O. Collins, “From the Conference Tables to the Battleelds,” pp. 106–107. 89. “IGADD Friends Support Sudan Peace,” Daily Nation, June 10, 1995; “Sudan: Egad! IGADD,” The Indian Ocean Newsletter, June 3, 1995. 90. “Pronk Attempts to Reopen Sudanese Peace Negotiations,” ANP English News Bulletin May 28, 1996; Moyiga Nduru, “Sudan-Politics: Khartoum Canvasses African support against Rebels,” Inter Press Service, May 15, 1995. 91. “Sudan: Peace agreement with southern rebel factions,” Keesing’s Record of World Events, April 1996, p. 41034; “Government and Southern Rebel Movement Agree to Continue Cease-re,” BBC Summary of World Broadcasts, March 13, 1996; “Sudanese Rebel Movement Declares Cease-re,” BBC Summary of World Broadcasts, no. EE/D2551/ME, March 3, 1996. 92. Nhial Bol, “Sudan-Politics: Khartoum Opts for Direct Talks with Rebels,” Inter Press Service, September 11, 1995; “Kenya Says not told about Reported Sudan pullout,” Reuters, November 21, 1995. 93. Judith Matloff, “Sudan’s Civil War Looking Less Civil War,” The Christian Science Monitor, January 31, 1997. 94. For good coverage of the rebel offensive and government reaction see Gill Lusk, “Sudan: Opposition Offensive,” Middle East International, January 24, 1997, pp. 8–9; 12; Lusk, “Sudan: Lull Before the Storm,” Middle East International, February 7, 1997, p. 5; Lusk, “Sudan: Heavy Fighting,” Middle East International, April 4, 1997, p. 12; Lusk, “Sudan: War in Slow Motion,” Middle East International, June 27, 1997, p. 11; 95. “Our Goal is to Topple the Khartoum Regime: Interview with John Garang, Head of the SPLA,” Swiss Review of International Affairs, June 1997, pp. 23–24.

226

CHAPTER SIX

96. Yahya Hassan, “Khartoum Signs Peace Pact With Six Rebel Factions,” Pan African News Agency, April 22, 1997. 97. John Nyaga, “Sudan, Rebels Agree to Resume Peace Talks, Agence France-Presse, September 23, 1999; Moyiga Nduru, Sudan-Politics: Breakthrough Reported in Stalled Peace Talks, Inter Press Service, September 23, 1997; Mark Huband, “Khartoum Seeks to Divide its Opponents, The Financial Times, September 26, 1997, p. 3. 98. “SPLM ofcials say government not serious about the Nairobi Meeting,” The British Broadcasting Corporation, October 29, 1997. 99. “Bashir: Sudan President Stresses Unity in Peace Talks,” Reuters, November 1, 1997. 100. “Sudan: Government Rejects Proposal to end War Analysis: What Hopes for Peace in Sudan?” Los Angeles Times, November 13, 1997; Michela Wrong, “Peace Talks Postponed to April,” PanAfrican News Agency, 11 November 1997. 101. “New US Sanctions Announced,” Electronic Mail and Guardian, November 7, 1997. 102. Yahya El Hassan, “Sudanese Leader Accuses U.S. of Sabotaging Talks,” Pan African News Agency, November 19, 1997. See also “Sudan scoffs at new US Sanctions,” Mail and Guardian, November 7, 1997. 103. “Albright and Museveni Hold Joint Press Conference,” New Vision (Kampala), December 11, 1997. 104. “Sudan: Sudanese Interior Minister Interviewed,” FBIS-Nes-98–027, January 27, 1998. 105. “Sudanese Minister in Cairo to Discuss Ties,” Agence France Presse, January 12, 1998. 106. “Sudan: Cairo Competes,” Africa Condential, vol. 38, no. 4, December 19, 1997, p. 8. 107. “Sudanese Umma Party Adopts ‘Action Plan’,” FBIS-Nes-98–036, February 5, 1998. 108. “Sudan: Al-Mahdi on Sudanese Opposition Goals,” FBIS-Nes-98–007, January 7, 1998. 109. “Sudan: Al-Bashir Assesses Domestic, Regional Issues,” FBIS-Nes-98–041, February 10, 1998. See also “Sudan: Sudan-SUNA Reports Rift Within Opposition Alliance,” FBIS-Nes-98–083, March 24, 1998. 110. “Sudan’s al-Hindi on Results of Initiative,” FBIS-Nes-98–058, February 27, 1998. 111. “Italy: Ofcial Previews Sudan Peace Mediation Talks in Nairobi,” FBIS-Weu-98–089, March 30, 1998; “Sudan: Italian Delegation Wraps Up Visit to Sudan,” FBIS-Nes-98–096, April 6, 1998. 112. “Sudan: Sudan-IGAD Delegation Arrives To Prepare for Peace Talks,” FBIS-Nes-98–087, March 28, 1998; “Sudan: Sudanese President Meets IGAD Delegation,” FBIS-Nes-98–087, March 28, 1998; and Sudan: Egypt To Host Meeting of Sudanese Opposition Leaders,” FBIS-Nes-98–092, April 2, 1998. 113. Gill Lusk, “Famine and Peace Talks,” Middle East International, May 8, 1998, p. 10. 114. “Ofcial Says Sudan To Accept Any Peace Initiative,” FBIS-Nes-98–103, April 13, 1998; Cabinet Says Sudan Ready for Peace Talks With Rebels,” FBIS-Nes-98–109, April 19, 1998; Sudanese Ofcial Says Peace Talks Slated for April 30,” FBIS-Nes-98–106, April 16, 1998; “Sudan: Sudan-IGAD Delegation Holds News Conference,” FBIS-Nes-98–088, March 29, 1998. 115. “Sudanese Peace Talks Start with Gloomy Opening Address,” Agence France Presse, May 4, 1998; James C. McKinley, “Sudan Foes Resume Talks as Famine Stalks South,” New York Times, May 5, 1998; Louise Turnbridge, “Talks on Sudan offer Scant hope of averting Famine,” Electronic Telegraph, May 5, 1998. 116. “Kenyan Foreign Minister says ‘Signicant Progress’ Made in Talks,” Agence FrancePresse, May 8, 1998.

IGAD MEDIATES SUDAN’S CIVIL WAR, 1993–1999

227

117. “Kenyan Foreign Minister says ‘Signicant Progress’ Made in Talks May 8, 1998,” Agence France Presse, May 9, 1998; “Government, SPLA Agree to Referendum on Self-determination, more Talks,” BBC Summary of World Broadcasts, May 8, 1998. 118. “Sudan Talks a Success, says Government, a Failure, say Rebels,” Agence France Presse May 7, 1998. 119. Gill Lusk, “Winning Friends in the West?” Middle East International, July 17, 1998, pp. 17–18. 120. “Sudan- Horn: Long War, Quick Fix,” Africa Condential, vol. 39, no. 14, July 10, 1998, pp. 2–4. 121. Gill Lusk, “Sudan: Too Many Peace Plans,” Middle East International, July 31, 1998, p. 11. 122. Matthew Bigg “Agencies Skeptical about Sudan Ceasere,” Reuters, July 15, 1998; “Sudanese Rebels Begin Ceasere to Help Famine victims,” Agence France Presse, July 15, 1998; Christopher Lockwood, “Food Aid Follows Ceasere,” Telegraph, July 16, 1998. 123. Chen Cailin, “Regional Talks on Sudan Conict Opens in Ethiopia,” Xinhua General News Service, August 4, 1998; Abebe Andualem, “Sudan-New Round of Talks Opens to End 15-year Civil War in Sudan,” Associated Press, August 4, 1998. 124. “Sudan Peace Talks Deadlocked,” BBC Summary of World Broadcasts, August 6, 1998; Ghion Hagos, “Delegations Clash At Peace Talks,” PanAfrican News Agency, August 5, 1998; Judith Achieng’, “Politics-Sudan: Rebels Blame Khartoum For Failed Peace Talks,” Inter Press Service, August 7, 1998; Lisa Bryant, “Sudan Opposition Talks,” Voice of America, Correspondent Report Number 2–237210, August 17, 1998. 125. “Sudanese Opposition Leaders Open Meetings in Cairo,” FBIS-Afr-98–227, August 15, 1998; David Hirst, “Mubarak Risks Taking Sides in Sudan,” The Guardian August 17, 1998, p. 14. 126. “Egypt: Sudan’s Opposition NDA Issues Statement,” FBIS-Nes-98–230, August 18, 1998; “Sudan: Sudan’s NDA Issues Cairo Declaration,” FBIS-Afr-98–230, August 18, 1998. 127. “Sudan: Garang Discusses Sudanese Opposition,” FBIS-Afr-98–249, September 6, 1998. See also “Sudan: Sudan’s Garang on Sudanese Regime, Peace,” FBIS-Afr-98–224, August 12, 1998; “Sudan: Sudan’s Garang on Unity, Confederation,” FBIS-Afr-98–227, August 15, 1998. 128. “President Omar al-Bashir on Dialogue with the West,” FBIS-Afr-99–001, January 1, 1999. 129. See also “USCR Criticizes U.S. Efforts in Sudan,” PanAfrican News Agency, March 23, 1999; “Sudan Says Ready for ‘Serious, Frank’ Dialogue With US,” FBIS-Afr-1999–0317, March 17, 1999. 130. “Sudan-Eritrea: Reconciliation Agreement Signed,” IRIN, May 3, 1999; “Eritrea Tells Sudanese Opposition To Evacuate Embassy,” FBIS-Afr-1999–0516, May 16, 1999. 131. “Ethiopia-Sudanese Leader Sees Improved Ties in Future,” FBIS-Afr-1999–0331, Mar 31, 1999. 132. “Sudan: Secret Government, Opposition Talks Reported,” FBIS-Afr-1999–0430, April 30, 1999. See also “Sudanese Opposition Welcomes al-Turabi-al-Mahdi Meeting,” FBIS-Afr-1999–0513, May 13, 999; “Sudanese Oppositionist Praises Al-Turabi-Al-Mahdi Meeting,” FBIS-Afr-1999–0504, May 4, 1999. 133. “Sudan’s Al-Mahdi on Rapprochement Prospect,” FBIS-Afr-1999–0618, June 15, 1999. 134. “Sudan Culture Minister on ‘Reconciliation’,” FBIS-Afr-1999–0627, June 24, 1999.

228

CHAPTER SIX

135. “Gadaf Vows To Reconcile Sudanese Belligerents,” Pan African News Agency, June 20, 1999; “Gadaf Accuses U.S. of ‘Terrorism’ Over Al-Shifa,” FBIS-Afr-1999–0619, June 19, 1999; “Sudanese Opposition Leaders to Meet Egyptian and Libyan ofcials,” FBIS-Afr-1999–0615, June 15, 1999. 136. “Sudan’s Al-Mahdi on Rapprochement Prospect,” FBIS-Afr-1999–0618, June 15, 1999. 137. “Opposition Calls for National Dialogue Conference after Libyan Mediation,” BBC Summary of World Broadcasts, August 5, 1999; “Egypt, Libya set Ball Rolling for Sudan Peace Conference,” Agence France Presse, August 10, 1999. 138. “Foreign Minister Says ‘Ball is in the Opposition’s Court,’” BBC Summary of World Broadcasts, August 10, 1999; “Sudan Hopes for Initiative to end Civil War,” Xinhua News Agency, August 7, 1999; “Envoy in Cairo Discusses Peace Efforts, Relations with Egypt,” BBC Summary of World Broadcasts, August 17, 1999; “Sudanese Minister Thanks Egypt, Libya for Initiative,” FBIS-Afr-1999–0912, September 12, 1999; “Meeting to Prepare Sudanese Peace Talks Set for October,” FBIS-Afr-1999–0912, September 12, 1999. 139. “SPLM Leader John Garang Tells Kenyan TV: Khartoum Authorities ‘evil’,” BBC Summary of World Broadcasts, August 14, 1999. See also “Sudanese Rebels Reject Peace Plan,” BBC Summary of World Broadcasts, August 30, 1999; “Sudan: Rebel Leader Garang says No Plans to Meet Bashir,” FBIS-Afr-1999–0915, September 15, 1999; and Osman Njuguna, “Sudan: IGAD Endorsed As Suitable Forum For Peace Process,” All Africa News Agency, August 6, 1999. 140. “Sudanese Opposition Alliance Issues Statement In Cairo,” FBIS-Afr-1999–1022, October 22, 1999; “Sudan Rebels Said to be in ‘State of Conict’,” FBIS-Afr-1999–1024, October 23, 1999. 141. “Susan Rice and David Scheffer, “Why Sudan’s New Charm Offensive Puts Us Off,” East African, September 22 -September 28, 1999. Secretary of State Albright was even more blunt: “The government in Sudan has to understand that its charm offensive is not charming, and is offensive.” 142. Department of State, Ofce of the Spokesman U.S. Department of State, “Press Availability of Secretary of State Madeleine K. Albright and Kenyan President Daniel arap Moi, State House Nairobi, Kenya, October 22, 1999.” 143. Karl Vick, “U.S., Rebels, Urge More Peace Talks For Sudan,” Washington Post, October 24, 1999, p. A30. 144. “Egypt Says its Sudan Plan Viable,” BBC Summary of World Broadcasts, October 23, 1999; “Egypt and Libya Sign Accord on Sudan,” Agence France Presse, November 12, 1999. 145. “Albright’s African Tour, US Policy Viewed,” FBIS-Afr-1999–1103, November 1999. 146. “Sudan Oppositionists Object to Meeting in Washington,” FBIS-Afr-1999–1214, December 14, 1999. 147. “State of Emergency Declared in Sudan,” Associated Press, December 12, 1999; “Sudanese Government Says Emergency Not Coup d’etat,” FBIS-Afr-1999–1213, December 13, 1999. 148. Michael Watkins and Kim Winters, “In Theory: Interveners with Interests and Power,” Negotiation Journal, vol. 13, no. 2, April 1997, p. 133.

Chapter Seven

Professionalizing IGAD’s Mediation, 1999–2005 The IGAD initiative on the conict in Sudan is one of the longest engagements. It is the initiative that gave IGAD its name . . . The Sudanese government conceded part of its sovereignty to IGAD to mediate on a purely Sudanese issue because we thought IGAD could engage John Garang positively and ensure that he represented the interests of the southerners. For him, IGAD is the diplomatic continuation of his military campaign.1 Sudanese diplomat in Nairobi, January 2002 I feel humbled that God really chose to use me in these negotiations. It has been very difcult and it has been very frustrating, at times very trying.2 General Lazaro Sumbeiywo, January 2005

Introduction This chapter focuses on changes in the organization of the mediation brought about through the strengthening of the IGAD Secretariat and the appointment of special envoys. The change in the mediation modalities coincided with global and regional shifts that generated a new momentum for a settlement captured in the Machakos Protocol that paved the way for a Comprehensive Peace Agreement (CPA) of January 2005. The long and often open-ended mediation tasks thrust on African actors yield innovation as they seek to make themselves more germane and relevant to conict resolution enterprises. For IGAD, persistence in the face of enormous obstacles generated the need for new diplomatic tactics that would transform the mediation from an IGAD ministerial committee to a permanent Secretariat. External donors that fund African mediators contributed to these transformations. In Sudan’s case, the IPF exerted pressure on IGAD to look for a different mediation structure that could expedite the negotiations on the assumption that better organization might produce durable outcomes. Although external pressure helped this trend toward professionalism, it is also important

230

CHAPTER SEVEN

to underscore the learning that accrues from countless failures. African mediators seek better approaches to overcome the inadequacies of past interventions. As IGAD made an assessment of previous intermediary experiences in Sudan, there was an urgent need to overcome the aws from these experiences, yielding the search for a more professional engagement. This chapter also argues that the drive for professional mediation by IGAD produced institutions that new actors, the special envoys, could seize in their bids to make an impact on the peace process. Discussion of General Lazaro Sumbeiywo in this particular case reveals an innovative mediator who transformed the IGAD Secretariat into an authoritative institution to push the parties toward an agreement. Sumbeiywo’s intervention is a larger story of creative improvisation on a limited mandate established by the Secretariat. Furthermore, he stretched the institutional envelope to overcome the obduracy of the parties and to fend off the intrusive and overwhelming presence of external actors. Ultimately, therefore, new mediation structures enabled the emergence of a strong individual with the mettle and moral force to run a successful mediation effort.

Toward a Professional IGAD Secretariat The IPF began efforts to professionalize IGAD mediation in late 1998 because of frustration with the slow pace and constant adjournments of the negotiating sessions. Although the IGAD mediating committee under the leadership of Kenyan Foreign Ministers had improved the organization of the negotiations, there was lack of continuity in the process owing to constant reshufes in the Foreign Ministry. Within ve years, Nairobi had had four Foreign Ministers heading the mediation committee, all with varying levels of competence.3 The IPF, providing most of the nancial and technical assistance, pressured Kenya to appoint a special envoy from the Foreign Ministry to speed up the peace process and prevent the postponements that had characterized the previous efforts. In consultations with IGAD states in January and February 1999, an IPF delegation led by Italian Minister Rino Serri and Norwegian Minister of State for International Cooperation and Human Rights Helda Johnson, advocated for appointment of professional mediator to lead an “accelerated and sustained negotiations.”4 At an IPF forum in Oslo in March 1999, donors criticized IGAD for its long adjournments between meetings. Noting that donors were spending more than $1 million a day on humanitarian assistance in southern Sudan, the IPF warned that “the current aid ow from the donor community to Sudan would

PROFESSIONALIZING IGAD’S MEDIATION, 1999–2005

231

be difcult to maintain in the long run, without an accelerated and strengthened political process toward peace, which is the only means of achieving a stable and durable solution to the conict.” The IPF proposed “urgent enhancement” of the IGAD peace process, specically, providing nancial support to a “dedicated secretariat” to support a new Kenya special envoy to “mount a concentrated and continuous mediation effort.”5 The quest for a professional mediation enterprise also arose because, as one of the participants at the Oslo IPF forum remarked: “Although IGAD lacks the capacity to impose any agreement on the parties, what it can do is at least create a serious and credible mediation process that both parties and outsiders can respect.”6 Such concerns led to donor funding of a permanent IGAD Secretariat in Kenya’s Foreign Ministry to manage a continuous, rather than episodic process. In mid-1999, Kenya designated Daniel Mboya, former ambassador to Khartoum, as the IGAD mediator. Improving the mediation structure, one Western observer acknowledged, was necessary because the “peace process was literally on life support, it needed to be rescued.”7 Under Mboya, the Secretariat evolved new mechanisms of conducting the negotiations. Insulated from the vagaries of Kenyan bureaucracies, yet nding political support from President Moi and the Foreign Affairs Ministry, the IGAD secretariat created two negotiating committees to deal sequentially with key aspects of the conict. One political committee dealt with the DOP’s governance components; and the other focused on transitional issues. Reports from these committees would then be presented to a plenary session. This method allowed the fragmentation of the agenda and the fashioning of compromises around core issues. In another departure, the IGAD secretariat enlisted external experts and IPF representatives who participated as observers. Previously, as El-Affendi shows, the IGAD mediation had been beset with organizational problems: The mediators relied mainly on improvisation, and were singularly unable to structure the talks to avoid sliding the talks into the usual deadlock; it was not all clear why the talks had been called at all before some progress had been made on resolving contentious issues . . . The talks were normally scheduled to take one week (Monday to Friday) to t the busy timetables of ministers involved, but often broke up after only three days. The format was varied occasionally to include separate discussions with the parties, but the norm was plenary sessions that degenerated very quickly into shouting matches. Little footwork was undertaken prior to the working sessions to ascertain shifts in positions, devise, and promote possible compromise or to prepare working papers to guide the discussions.8

From January 2000, the negotiating sessions met in Nanyuki, outside Nairobi, to avoid leaks and public statements that had bedeviled previous rounds of talks. Mboya and his team devoted the rst three months of 2000 organizing committee negotiations conducted on the government side by Na Ali Na, a

232

CHAPTER SEVEN

hard-line Presidential Adviser on Peace Affairs, and the SPLA’s Nhial Deng Nhial, the head of foreign relations. The political committee intermittently deliberated on the separation of religion and state and southern Sudan’s boundaries between January and April 2000. The mediators strove for a breakthrough on the secularism question assuming that a breakthrough would generate sufcient momentum to tackle the rest of the political issues. But even under the new negotiating framework, both sides came no closer to a compromise. On May 17, 2000, the SPLA suspended its participation in the IGAD talks following government air attacks against southern civilians.9 The frantic reorganization of the mediation structure also concealed the multiple problems that stemmed from the NDA’s fragmentation, the realignment of domestic power in Khartoum, and the reemergence of the Egyptian-Libyan mediation initiative (see chapter six for details of these changes). With Hassan al-Turabi marginalized, Bashir consolidated his power in the military and party. Sadqi al-Mahdi formalized Umma’s defection from the NDA in May 2000 with a scathing attack on Garang and the NDA for being unresponsive to the Egyptian-Libyan peace initiative.10 Deprived of Umma’s support, the NDA’s smaller parties became vulnerable to Khartoum’s entreaties, as the erstwhile alliance north and south collapsed. The Egyptian-Libyan plan posed a formidable threat to IGAD that centered on the mutual suspicions about how to integrate the two processes. From the initial goals of “coordination” and “integration” of the two initiatives, proponents of the North African scheme increasingly shifted to the notion of “amalgamation.” Underlying IGAD’s suspicions was the intention of Egypt and Libya to expunge self-determination from the peace agenda and shift the negotiations from the regional to the domestic arena. Once they had thrown their diplomatic support for Bashir in the struggle against Turabi, the Egyptians and Libyan constituted the committee that would convene a national reconciliation conference. In January 2000, Libya, Egypt, and Sudan reafrmed support for their initiative, pledging periodic meetings, under the chairmanship of the three foreign ministers, to review and bolster the steps to achieve peace and national accord in Sudan.11 But as long as the U.S. backed the IGAD process, and the SPLA remained ambivalent about the new initiatives, there was no movement on the EgyptianLibyan initiative. A change, nonetheless, occurred in the U.S. position following Johnston’s March 2000 visit to Khartoum, where he indicated that the U.S. would reconsider the question of its support for IGAD: “Although the U.S. was committed to the IGAD peace initiative, it would not ignore the interests of Egypt and Libya and the opposition National Democratic Alliance (NDA).” Johnston also claimed that the U.S. supported self-determination but not sepa-

PROFESSIONALIZING IGAD’S MEDIATION, 1999–2005

233

ration of the south: “Going to a referendum for self-determination without resolving issues like power-sharing or the judiciary would be an invitation to the separation of the south.”12 More signicant, Garang gave a new lease of life to the Libyan-Egyptian initiative on a visit to Cairo in May 2000: The SPLM believes these two initiatives must be coordinated or merged in order to achieve a solution that can neither be accused of being predominantly African (IGAD) nor principally Arab (the Egyptian-Libyan proposals). Sudan’s problems can’t be solved without active Egyptian participation. Similarly, the Egyptian-Libyan initiative can’t succeed without the IGAD nations taking part. Combining the two can be achieved in several ways. The IGAD blueprint, for example, contains certain elements which are absent in the Egyptian-Libyan plan, and the opposite is also true. A new combined initiative can overcome the shortcomings of both its constituent parts. The Egyptian-Libyan plan contains eight points lacking in the IGAD initiative, particularly in the area of preparing the conditions conducive for the success of negotiations. This and other elements can be incorporated in a new combined plan. We’ve already asked the nations taking part in both peace plans to form a joint technical committee to look into ways a merger can be achieved. Those nations should also bear the responsibility for activating the combined initiative. We can help by putting forward our ideas and recommendations, but advancing the process itself is primarily the responsibility of its sponsors.13

Garang further justied his acceptance for “coordinating the two initiatives, if not merging them completely for objective reasons – chiey the need not to allow the regime to shop in the marketplace of peace initiatives in an attempt to gain time.”14 But his reassurance to Cairo that self-determination was a secondary priority for the SPLA seemed to place IGAD’s self-determination plank into question. Emboldened by Garang’s position, Egypt pressured IGAD to decide quickly on a merger or risk marginalization. As the Egyptian Foreign Minister, Amr Musa, observed: “It was now up to the IGAD mediators to state whether they want amalgamation or coordination. Now that Garang has come on board, the Libyan-Egyptian initiative should proceed as the main initiative.”15 A resurgent Egyptian-Libyan initiative placed the IPF in a delicate diplomatic position of interceding between the competing mediators. Saddled with the tasks of professionalizing IGAD, the IPF seemed unprepared to plunge into an intramural Arab-African conict. In June 2000, the IPF met in Oslo to seek a compromise between IGAD and Egypt, but ran against Egyptian opposition for amalgamation. A row between Kenya and Egypt in Oslo over the terms of amalgamation deepened the animosity between North Africa and Sub-Saharan Africa over their respective intentions in Sudan. Perceptions of Egyptian heavy-handedness were fueled by its refusal to countenance amalgamation, ostensibly because all Sudanese parties favored the North African initiative. More poignantly, the Egyptian delegate warned that Cairo would

234

CHAPTER SEVEN

oppose self-determination of the south. Caught between these pressures, the IPF announced its continued support for the IGAD Secretariat, but in a departure from previous endorsements, they gave IGAD mediators three months to come up with an agreement.16 Postponements and procedural wrangles characterized the three months of IPF’s deadline as Mboya and the IGAD Secretariat tried to sustain the peace process. When the talks nally resumed in September 2000, the mediators proposed a secular federal framework that would permit individual states to implement Islamic laws. They also sought to force the parties to give specic responses to the two agenda items of secularism and self-determination. After deliberating on each item, the mediators asked both parties to commit in writing their agreements and disagreements before proceeding to the next agenda. Although the strategy enhanced the momentum of the negotiations, it was the kind of learning that was coming too late in the game; as the Sudan Democratic Gazette commented: “Observers were left wondering why the mediators had waited for so many years before adopting such a tactic. They were unanimous in their belief that if such tactics had been used back at the start of the process then the conict would either have been resolved by now or the talks abandoned as a complete waste of time and effort . . . The NIF regime’s delegation was not at all happy with this new approach, having become accustomed to only listening to presentations from the SPLA and then rejecting them. The guerilla army was not too enamored with the approach either, and simply responded to the issues by repeating their previous positions, all of which were known to be unacceptable to the Khartoum regime.”17 The mediator’s attempts to sequence the negotiations and seek closure failed to produce movement on the contested items. At the end of the September talks, the parties recorded intractable disagreement on secularism, forcing the mediators to seek agreement on self-determination and interim arrangements. But in October 2000, IGAD mediators failed to convene new talks as Khartoum increasingly looked to solidify its military gains in southern Sudan and national reconciliation with northern parties. In a national reconciliation conference in Khartoum in October 2000, Bashir urged the northern parties to disengage from the NDA, abandon the military struggle, and embrace peace. To cap the government’s successful efforts at marginalizing the NDA, Mahdi ended four years of exile and returned to Khartoum in November 2000, pledging to pursue a national political agenda.18 The altered domestic context gave Sudan the upper hand in deecting further IGAD pressures. An IGAD heads of state summit in Khartoum on November 23, 2001 illustrated the many problems plaguing the organization and the collective doubt that began to emerge about its efcacy. Not only did

PROFESSIONALIZING IGAD’S MEDIATION, 1999–2005

235

Moi boycott the summit, but also deep divisions among the mediators came to the fore, in particular with Eritrea’s Afwerki charging that IGAD could not be relied upon to bring peace to Sudan. The IGAD states, he noted, did not know Sudan at all and each had interests that contradicted the interest of the Sudanese people: “Only Eritrea was qualied to broker peace for Sudan. The people of Eritrea and the people of Sudan know each other very well and are indeed one people. Eritrea knows all the facts about the conict in the Sudan and can be trusted to be evenhanded in nding a solution.”19 The Khartoum summit contrasted with the previous one in September 1994 that had launched the IGAD initiative under Bashir’s invitation. The invitation had allowed IGAD to participate in the communal conict, legitimized by the power of proximity, and sustained by a modicum of regional consensus about the problem. Although geared to curry favor with Khartoum in Eritrea’s ongoing conict with Ethiopia, Afwerki’s indictment of IGAD raised doubts about the organization’s legitimacy and capabilities. More important, the divisions within IGAD exposed it to wider scrutiny from its IPF allies. At a meeting in London in October 2000, the IPF noted that there was very little condence in the IGAD initiative: The Secretariat often works in a cumbersome, time-consuming manner; the decision-making is time consuming, difcult, and inexible; the secretariat’s efciency is adversely affected by its reliance on consensus decisions of the envoys of the four mediator countries; the IGAD mediator countries have different relationships with the two Sudanese parties to the conict; the mediators all have a vested but different interests in the Sudanese conict and each wants a different result from the peace process; the Special Envoy seems to lack the necessary authority to effectively pursue his mandate. Important initiatives from the Special Envoy are overruled; during the negotiations, the secretariat acts as a cautious or passive observer rather than as active mediators; and not challenging the positions of the parties. On involving the other Sudanese stakeholders to the conict, the secretariat’s attempts to consult the opposition National Democratic Alliance (NDA) encountered political obstacles that required, but did not receive, resolution at the senior political levels of IGAD.20

Bashir took advantage of IGAD’s problems to forge head with national reconciliation by organizing general elections in December 2001. Although boycotted by most of the internal opposition, the election signied a more condent Khartoum in the post-Turabi era. Furthermore, as the IGAD initiative faltered amidst increasing self-doubt, Egypt reentered to reafrm the integrity of the North African initiative. In January 2001, Egyptian Foreign Minister Musa denounced IGAD and noted that only Egypt was in a position to resolve the conict: “If IGAD wants a piece of this cake then it should agree to amalgamate its initiative with the Libyan-Egyptian one. Otherwise IGAD will remain

236

CHAPTER SEVEN

as a deadwood unt even for burning. Everyone should know that IGAD’s partners in European and world capitals will not solve the Sudanese problem via the IGAD initiative alone. The joint Libyan-Egyptian for a comprehensive settlement is still the correct one. The Egyptian role in the issue is important and there can be no solution without it.”21

Changes in Washington: Toward a Rapprochement? The IPF’s indictment of IGAD’s organizational inadequacies and the EgyptianLibyan bid to wrest the Sudan problem out of IGAD’s hands occurred against the backdrop of changes in U.S. government from the Clinton to the Bush administrations. Furthermore, Khartoum awash in oil revenues succeeded in wooing signicant factions of the northern opposition. Regionally, as Ethiopia and Uganda sought to accommodate Khartoum, the foundations of the Frontline States strategy, and the SPLA’s position, grew weaker. In the contexts of these changes, IGAD had to deal with a crisis that was compounded by the inability to deal with the competitive pressures from the Egyptian-Libyan initiative that Sudan increasingly embraced. Clinton’s departure signaled a shift from some of the fundamental premises of the Frontline States strategy to a more evenhanded policy. Weighing heavily on American policy review were competing constituencies, in particular religious and human groups committed to a hard-line stance on Khartoum, and commercial interests counseling a more moderate policy that would gradually wean the Bashir government back to a negotiated settlement.22 A February 2001 Center for Strategic and International Studies (CSIS) report tried to reconcile these positions. Warning that rising southern oil production had shifted the military balance of power in Khartoum’s favor and diminished the prospects of SPLA’s military victory, the report urged Washington to seek an end to the war. The study also castigated the Clinton containment policy and suggested that Washington become an impartial broker through the resumption of diplomatic relations with Khartoum. In calling on the U.S., Norway, and Britain to spearhead a new peace initiative based on the IGAD Principles, the report was skeptical of regional initiatives: Regional initiatives hold little promise for ending Sudan’s war. Although the IGAD peace initiatives has had certain achievements on which any future initiatives should build, IGAD cannot be relied on to persuade Sudan’s warring principals to enter into serious negotiations. The Egypt/Libya initiative is essentially intended to checkmate IGAD, specically on the issue of self-determination of the south. A new, robust extra-regional mediation agency is required if a credible peace process is to begin in Sudan.23

PROFESSIONALIZING IGAD’S MEDIATION, 1999–2005

237

As the Bush administration reviewed its Sudan policy, the IPF prevailed on Moi to reinvigorate the peace bid through high-level intervention. An IPF meeting in Rome in March 2001 recommended a renewed diplomatic effort to restart the IGAD process, culminating in Moi’s visit to Khartoum. Following his visit, the two sides agreed to convene an emergency IGAD summit conference.24 The June 2001 IGAD summit in Nairobi brought the principal parties together on the premise that only a high-level meeting would end the stalemate. For IGAD, the summit recaptured the momentum, reinforced its relevance, and allayed the increasing doubts from the IPF about its capacity. Nevertheless, the meeting foundered on the old animosities as the IGAD mediators failed to bridge the gap between Garang and Bashir. At the height of the summit, Bashir refused to meet Garang despite pleas from IGAD mediators. Competing expectations about the summit contributed to the outcome of the summit: Bashir went to Nairobi hoping that the talks would focus on reaching a cease-re, while Garang expected to negotiate a solution to some outstanding issues such as self-determination and secularism. “A ceasere,” the SPLA noted, “will come as a result of an agreement. The ceasere is a long way off because there is no political agreement.”25 The SPLA also introduced a new a precondition for a ceasere that called on the government to cease oil exports or deposit oil revenues in a special account that could be used once the war was over. Moi reafrmed the IGAD commitment to resolve the conict. However, the most he could obtain from the parties was the appointment of permanent IGAD teams to continue the talks and to arrange another summit meeting in two months. Garang used the Nairobi meeting to reiterate the IGAD initiative as the “only credible forum for resolving the Sudan conict.” Similarly, the IGAD mediators, conscious of declining interest in the initiative and the looming competitive initiatives, urged the IPF to resume funding to the IGAD secretariat to enable it to carry its mandate efciently.26 The IPF, however, gave a lukewarm reception to the abortive Nairobi summit, calling on Moi and his colleagues to “reinvigorate the peace process by asking the parties to engage themselves in a continuous and sustained negotiation towards a just and lasting peace.”27 With chances for a political dialogue under IGAD looking remote, the urry of diplomatic activities in the summer 2001 shifted invariably to Cairo and Tripoli. As Egypt and Libya injected a new lease of life in their initiative, they abandoned the previous position of seeking a merger with IGAD contending that the latter was virtually dead. The NDA convention in Cairo in late June 2001 billed itself as the “last chance to reach a concrete proposal for coordinating the two initiatives.” In the words of the NDA chairman, Mohammed Al-Mighani, the “integration of the Libyan-Egyptian initiative with that of

238

CHAPTER SEVEN

IGAD was imperative so that the Sudanese issue does not become an Arab versus African issue.” But weakened by defections and by Egyptian-Libyan pressures, the NDA failed to convince Cairo and Tripoli to amend their initiative to incorporate the demands of southern self-determination and secularism.28 In the summer 2001, Egypt and Libya unveiled a nine-point plan to resolve the conict. Its provisions were: Sudanese unity; recognition of ethnic, religious, and cultural diversity; the need for pluralist democracy; the guarantee of basic freedoms and human rights; citizenship as a basis for rights and duties; the need for decentralized rule of law; urgent cessation of violence; and the pursuit of a foreign policy that guaranteed national interests and respected good neighborliness. In insisting on Sudan’s unity, the plan departed from the IGAD principles. Key to its implementation was the proposal to form an interim national government representing all political forces that would organize a national conference that would revise the constitution and hold elections.29 Khartoum unconditionally accepted the nine-point Egyptian-Libyan plan in early July 2001 and called on the two countries to “take all the necessary measures for the implementation of the articles of the initiative.”30 Bashir also observed that there would be no change in the Islamic-oriented constitution and the principles of the 1989 coup: “Those who think that peace means dismantling of the National Salvation government have illusions . . . This constitution will exist and the establishments formed according to it will also stay . . . We came to set up Sharia, and I say – for the second, third and fourth time – that the National Salvation Revolution Government will never change its principles and Islamic basis.”31 The SPLA and its NDA allies greeted the plan with cautious optimism, agreeing to it in principle and pledging to attend a proposed follow-up conference, but they reiterated the inclusion of three core principles: self-determination, secularism, and the need for “formal unication” of the Egyptian-Libyan and IGAD initiatives.32 Even as Egypt and Libya scurried to organize a Sudanese peace conference in the fall 2001 that would replace the IGAD initiative, an observer of the Sudanese peace process underscored the deep-seated problems that would bedevil the new mediators, a reection that is universal to African mediators: Questions are being asked about the competence of the sponsoring countries (Egypt and Libya), and their ability to put in action the mechanisms necessary to ensure compliance with their initiative. The rst question that springs to mind is by what legitimacy can the Cairo and Tripoli governments call on Khartoum to allow the opposition to share power? How can the Egyptians and Libyans call on the Sudanese government to adopt pluralism (and effectively renounce power), while they do not adhere to these principles themselves? Libya, as is well known, does not believe in any form of pluralism, political or otherwise. Opposition gures in Libya do not even enjoy the right to life, much less a right to participate in

PROFESSIONALIZING IGAD’S MEDIATION, 1999–2005

239

government. Egypt does not fare any better either: while paying lip service to the theoretical notion of pluralism, Cairo adamantly rejects dialogue with any armed opposition group . . . In short, compared to Egypt and Libya, the Sudanese government is extremely enlightened in the way it deals with its opponents. The other peace initiative for Sudan, proposed by IGAD nations, faces the same paradox. Like Egypt and Libya, IGAD member states are not great believers in political pluralism; like Cairo and Tripoli, they refuse to talk to their oppositions, whether peaceful or not.33

Rejuvenating the IGAD Process: General Sumbeiywo Takes Charge The September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks in the U.S. occurred in the context of a stalled peace process and were to have a signicant inuence in restarting the negotiations. Al-Qaeda‘s leader Osama Bin-Laden had made a home in Sudan from 1991 to 1996, and U.S. pressure had contributed to Sudan’s decision to expel him to Afghanistan. In the aftermath of the September 11 attacks, Khartoum mended fences with the U.S. by sharing intelligence in the war against al-Qaeda. Although Sudan remained on the list of countries sponsoring terrorism, the lifting of U.N. sanctions on Sudan and the reopening of diplomatic missions in Washington and Khartoum and high-level exchanges signaled the gradual normalization of relations.34 As part of the improvement in relations, the Bush administration’s special envoy for Sudan, former Senator John Danforth, launched a diplomatic initiative in November 2001. He hoped to secure a temporary ceasere, facilitate the delivery of humanitarian aid, and end aerial bombardment of civilians and slave raiding in the Nuba Mountains. In January 2002, Danforth brought the SPLA and government representatives to Buergenstock, Switzerland, in the rst direct U.S. mediation that formalized a six-month renewable ceasere agreement in the Nuba Mountains supervised by international monitors. Danforth also persuaded the government to accept an international investigation into allegations of abduction and slavery.35 Danforth’s initiative transformed the nature of U.S. engagement in the peace process by lending more clout and consistency to the IPF. As Sudanese Foreign Minister, Mustafa Uthman Ismail acknowledged: I am optimistic, thanks to the efforts exerted by the U.S. administration to persuade the parties to sign a peace agreement. This is in contrast to the previous U.S. administration, which focused its policy on the continuation of the war as part of its agenda to put pressure on the Sudanese government to tame it or change it, as they said. As for the current U.S. administration, it has given priority to achieving peace in Sudan and stopping the war. It has thrown its weight behind the current talks in Nairobi. Although the onus falls on the concerned parties, we

240

CHAPTER SEVEN

cannot ignore the external role, especially the U.S. role, which is participating effectively within the framework of a political settlement that would lead to the end of the war and the establishment of peace.36

Alongside Alan Goulty, Tony Blair’s envoy to Sudan, and Norwegian diplomats, Danforth formed a Troika within the IPF to facilitate the negotiations. Goulty underscored the vigor that the Troika brought to the IGAD process: “As observers, we are exerting collective and coordinating with each other for the purpose of getting the parties back to the negotiating table.”37 Danforth resuscitated the IGAD mediation. Although the Troika nations considered circumventing IGAD, they revitalized it fearing that they would alienate Sudan’s neighbors.38 This decision coincided with Moi’s January 2002 appointment of General Sumbeiywo as the chief IGAD mediator. He previously served as Kenya’s special envoy to the Sudan Peace Process between 1997 and 1998. At the time of his appointment he was also Kenya’s army commander until the Mwai Kibaki administration retired him in February 2003. As Sumbeiywo’s ofcial biographer writes: Why had Moi decided on Sumbeiywo? First, the army ofcer was well versed with the conicts of the region, as Director of Military Intelligence and later as the head of the Liaison Department, he had immense intelligence on what was happening beyond Kenya’s borders. Secondly, Moi needed someone he could trust. He was close to Sumbeiywo and he knew the man had an independent spirit . . . Thirdly, the combatants in the conict were all military people. President Omar Bashir was a military ofcer who had overthrown a civilian government and John Garang was a hardened guerrilla leader who had led the life of a military General . . . Moi’s involvement with Sudan was so passionate that he wanted a man who would translate his desires into action.39

Given a free hand by the Kenya government and allowed access to Moi and Foreign Minister Kalonzo Musyoka, Sumbeiywo’s rst task was to reestablish the IPF’s credibility which was crucial to replenishing the funding for the peace initiative. Most IPF members remained chagrined by the IGAD Secretariat’s handling of earlier negotiations. Sumbeiywo also brought foreign experts to the IGAD Secretariat, including Susan Page, an American diplomat; Nicholas Haysom, a South African constitutional lawyer; and Julian Hettinger, a Swiss diplomat and lawyer. With observer teams from the United States, the U.K., Norway, and Italy, Sumbeiywo’s IGAD mediation team started negotiations in May 2002, rst in Karen, Nairobi and second, Machakos, near Nairobi. The mediators approach was to condense the DOP concerns about state and religion, self – determination, wealth sharing, and transitional arrangements – into a single negotiating text that became the basis of negotiations.40 As Nicholas Haysom, a member of Sumbeiywo’s team remarked: “The General and I recognized that it was

PROFESSIONALIZING IGAD’S MEDIATION, 1999–2005

241

important to generate a single negotiating text and to move the parties from their mutually contradictory position papers. We set that aim as our priority, but the question remained of how to get the parties to agree to a single text.”41 Throughout the process, the mediators interspersed the negotiations with a combination of workshops where experts provided advice on technical issues, and plenary sessions for collective deliberations. The resumed talks, as Sudan’s Foreign Minister Mustafa Uthman Ismail noted, differed from the previous ones because “they transcended procedural matters, such as dening the agenda, and entered directly into discussions of key issues. This has required the parties, the government and the Sudan People’s Liberation Movement (SPLM), to submit their true positions on the topics under discussion and avoid maneuvering and prevarication.”42 Furthermore, as one of the government’s negotiators noted about the negotiations: “The approach of the mediators – by this time General Sumbeiywo had been appointed, and his style was more proactive and military than his predecessor’s – was to get agreement paragraph by paragraph and to put every agreed paragraph into a new document that would become the agreement, rather than to try to agree on every detail before nalizing an agreement. In this way both sides were able to see what progress had been made and what remained to be agreed or further deferred.”43 In the rst senior-level negotiations, Ghazi Salahuddin Atabani, a senior advisor to the peace process in Khartoum, and Salva Kiiir Mayardit, the SPLA’s deputy commander, met with the mediator in Machakos in June 2002 to review the proposed draft agreement.44 Even though the ve-weeks of talks coincided with the escalation of heavy ghting in southern Sudan, the negotiations led to the Machakos Protocol signed on July 20, 2002.45 This document included provisions that Sharia would remain the source of legislation in the north, while the south would be governed by a secular administration: Nationally enacted legislation having effect only in respect of the states outside southern Sudan shall have as its source of legislation Sharia and the consensus of the people. Nationally enacted legislation applicable to the Southern States and/or the Southern Region shall have as its source of legislation popular consensus, the values and customs of the people of Sudan including their traditions and religious beliefs, having regard to Sudan’s diversity.”46

Second, Khartoum accepted an internationally monitored referendum that would be held after six-and-half-year transition period in which the south would decide whether to secede or continue to exist within a united federal Sudan. The parties also agreed to “give unity a chance,” that is, prioritize unity as the most desirable outcome of the referendum.47 The Machakos Protocol represented a mutual renunciation of previously “non-negotiable” items such as Khartoum’s desire to Islamize southern Sudan and the SPLA’s determination to secularize the entire country.48

242

CHAPTER SEVEN

Soon after signing the Machakos Protocol, Bashir and Garang met for the rst time under IGAD auspices in Kampala and “recommitted themselves to work towards total peace and security” and “underscored the need to reinforce the peace process and to build a national consensus on a comprehensive political settlement.”49 However, when the second round of the Machakos talks started in August 2002 to negotiate wealth sharing and a ceasere, there was an escalation of ghting in the oil-producing Upper Nile region. In early September 2002, the government side withdrew from the peace talks after the SPLA captured the garrison town of Torit in Eastern Equatoria region, with considerable loss of life. The talks, as Haysom remarks, “became a hostage to battleeld fortunes.”50 Mediators, including the U.S. Assistant Secretary of State, Walter Kansteiner, averted the breakdown of the talks, leading to their resumption in October 2002.51 During the October 2002 talks, the IGAD mediators focused on reaching a comprehensive ceasere with the assistance of military experts from the U.S., U.K, and Norway. At the same time, the U.S. Congress increased pressure on Khartoum by passing the Sudan Peace Act, legislation that threatened more economic sanctions if the government failed to negotiate in good faith.52 In mid-October 2002, the parties reached a ceasere agreement for the duration of the negotiations to cover the entire country, the rst comprehensive ceasere since the conict began in 1983.53 Further talks resulted in the signing of a memorandum of understanding (MOU) between the parties in mid-November 2002 that extended the ceasere and allowed foreign NGOs unimpeded access to humanitarian relief in the south.54 When the mediators convened the talks in January 2003, the SPLM insisted on negotiations on the problem of the Three Areas – Nuba Mountains, Abyei, and Southern Blue Nile, issues that were not part of the Machakos Protocol. Government negotiators opposed this move, forcing the mediators to devise a strategy of convening supplementary negotiations on the Three Areas nominally under Kenyan leadership but outside the IGAD framework. The compromise enabled the negotiators to get back on track on the substantive issues of power sharing, distribution of resources, and cessation of hostilities. In February 2003, the parties reached agreement on key issues including mechanisms to monitor the ceasere, the formation of a government of national unity, equitable representation of southern Sudanese in parliament, cabinet and civil service, and respect for human rights.55 In preparation for the contentious wealth sharing negotiations, the IGAD mediators held several seminars on the issue, where expert and ordinary people contributed to forging consensus. By sounding out different voices, the mediators also hoped to make the negotiations more participatory. Several rounds of

PROFESSIONALIZING IGAD’S MEDIATION, 1999–2005

243

IGAD talks in May, June, and July 2003 reviewed security arrangements during the transition period, power-sharing arrangements, distribution of resources, and the religious status of Khartoum. But as the talks seemed to make little progress, Sumbeiywo and the IGAD Secretariat devised a proactive strategy for bridging the gaps in positions. Toward this end, Sumbeiywo and his team traveled through much of Sudan in June 2003 canvassing the opinions of ordinary people and of leaders, north and south, on issues at the negotiating table. Sumbeiywo then prepared a “holistic” reconciliation paper called the Framework on the Resolution of Outstanding Issues Based on the Machakos Protocol (later called the Nakuru Document). Apart from the proposals on power sharing during the interim period, the Nakuru Document made detailed proposals on all aspects of the conict except the Three Areas and security arrangements. While the SPLM embraced it as a guide to “negotiating the last corner on the path to peace,” Bashir wrote a letter to Mwai Kibaki lambasting the IGAD Secretariat for introducing a new draft document.56 Bashir reportedly told the IGAD mediation team to “go to hell.” He further noted that “if the mediators did not come up with a reasonable alternative, they will have to dissolve the document in water and drink it.”57 Khartoum sought to scuttle IGAD by inviting the mediation of the South African government, a move that IGAD resisted.58 In view of Khartoum’s rejection of the Nakuru Document, IGAD mediators dropped it from the agenda, and instead stuck to the Machakos Protocol and the DOP as frames of reference for the negotiations.59 In a major breakthrough in September 2003, Garang and Sudan’s Vice-President, Ali Osman Taha, held talks in Naivasha that helped to persuade the disputants to accept the agreement’s various protocols. Over a three-month period, talks between Taha and Garang changed the negotiating atmosphere and pace, deepened the chemistry between the two leaders, and boosted the parties’ ownership of the peace process.60 Sumbeiywo described Taha as the “person behind the throne in Khartoum.”61 In Garang, Taha found a valuable partner and both asserted leadership and gave direction to the negotiations.62 As Haysom says of the Taha-Garang talks: The talks were renewed under this new modality and from this point we were largely in the wings. The leaders negotiated and, in a sense, took ownership of the process. We came in to summarize, help formulate agendas, rewrite text and suggest compromises, but only occasionally did we perform a deadlock-breaking role. We encouraged them to use their principal advisors in sub-committees, but with an obligation on them to actively seek compromises. Garang and Taha needed some time to get to grips with the substance of the talks and to develop their own relationship. They were both under pressure to nd each other, and they responded.63

244

CHAPTER SEVEN

Following the September 2003 talks, the parties reached a framework agreement on security and military arrangements that would allow the withdrawal of government forces from the south and establish joint integrated units alongside separate northern and southern military forces.64 In a speech to the National Assembly, Bashir described the framework agreement on security as the “main key to the gate of a comprehensive and just peace.”65 In a new round of talks in October 2003, the parties discussed issues of wealth and power sharing and the Three Areas. During an October 2003 visit to Kenya, U.S. Secretary of State, Colin Powell, dangled the carrot of invitation to the White House for the signing ceremony, forcing the mediators to scramble to reach a settlement by December 2003.66 But serious disagreements over wealth sharing, power sharing in the transitional institutions, and future of the Three Areas stymied the negotiations. As the SPLM spokesman noted: The remaining issues represented in authority and wealth [sharing] that we are discussing now are some of the most important reasons for the Sudanese crisis. They are the crux of the issue for which war erupted. These are not easy to solve as some may think. Any solution must be comprehensive and acceptable in order to prevent any future setback that may rekindle war. Moreover, there is the issue of the three disputed regions. This issue is extremely complicated. It requires a new solution that serves as a model for the other areas of tension in the east and west. There is still no clear vision of the desired solution . . . It is extremely difcult to draw up a timetable for a solution to such issues. What [U.S. Secretary of State] Powell said was meant to urge the parties to accomplish the job within the framework of this deadline. But what we view as important are the issues themselves and the need to nd satisfactory solutions to them.67

Further Taha-Garang consultations in December 2003 resolved the differences over wealth sharing, thereby enabling them to sign an agreement in January 2004. The accord’s centerpiece was the 50–50 split of oil wealth between the north and south. After the signing of the document, Foreign Minister Mustafa Uthman Ismail commented that “The peace process is now irreversible. We are close to ending the conict in our country. The guns have fallen silent once and for all and we are now looking forward to the post-war challenges.”68 In February 2004, Taha and Garang started a new round of talks in Naivasha that focused on the three disputed regions.69 The impasse that ensued, particularly on the status of oil-rich Abyei region forced the intervention of the U.S through the direct participation at Naivasha by U.S. Assistant Secretary of State for African Affairs, Charles Snyder.70 In May 2004, the parties signed three accords, including agreement the status of the Three Areas, paving the way for negotiations on mechanisms for implementing a permanent ceasere and the protocols, deployment of peacekeepers, and technical arrangements during

PROFESSIONALIZING IGAD’S MEDIATION, 1999–2005

245

the transitional period. Experts from Britain, the U.S. and the UN provided lectures in workshops on ceasere and procedures.71 In the nal phases of the talks, the escalation of hostilities in Darfur persuaded rebel movements in the region to force their long-standing grievances onto the national agenda, thus distracting Khartoum from southern issues. A ceasere agreement between the government and Darfur’s rebel movements negotiated in neighboring Chad in mid-2004, collapsed in October 2004 because Khartoum continued to arm militias attacking civilians. Sumbeiywo acknowledged that the Darfur situation put the IGAD talks “quite far back,”72 but he tried to steer the parties toward nalizing the provisions on implementation of the agreement. In addition, as Haysom notes, the negotiations for the implementation details took longer than many observers had expected, because “implementation is often the poor child of peace negotiations. The parties were embarking on this huge collaborative project, with low levels of trust and no policeman, so they needed detailed guidelines for implementation.” As a result, the parties did not complete the implementation negotiations until the eve of the U.N. Security Council’s extraordinary session in Nairobi in November 2004, when the parties initialed the nal agreement. The Comprehensive Peace Agreement (CPA) signed in January 2005 contained the six protocols that had been negotiated since the Machakos Protocol in June 2002. More critical, the CPA was the culmination of a process that built on past successes and failures as the Sudanese parties learnt the size and content of the political envelope, the limits of tolerance, and the possibilities of collective approaches. The CPA’s power sharing arrangements embody some of what the 1972 Addis Ababa Agreement aspired to achieve, but in a changed circumstance where the South was more organized and ready to defend the gains that had been achieved at the negotiating table. Similarly, the CPA does not fundamentally depart from the DOP; in fact, the core principles vindicate IGAD’s basic framework of a Sudan that can, through creative political will, institutions, and leadership, hang together as a viable territorial and political artice. By the same token, the DOP recognized that without these variables, southerners needed the geographical and political space to attempt recreating their own sense of statehood. Also, most CPA protocols did not signicantly depart from the Nakuru Document.

Conclusion: Assessing the Role of the Mediator Scholars and analysts often invoke the image of Oscar Arias creatively supervising the Contadora and Esquipulas peace processes in Central America in

246

CHAPTER SEVEN

the mid-1980s to underscore the kind of moral authority and broad-based diplomatic activism that made a difference in a protracted conict.73 In their roles as conict managers, African regional organizations are searching to nd their Oscar Arias. The IGAD process afforded Sumbeiywo the opportunity to begin to build the moral and organizational power to approximate the works of Oscar Arias and others. Under Sumbeiywo’s leadership, the IGAD Secretariat struggled to reclaim the authority that previous interventions had squandered through lack of organization and professionalism. What the mediator lacked in terms of experiences, he made it up in terms of assertiveness, hard work, persistence, and ability to learn as the negotiations proceeded. As Haysom remarks about Sumbeiywo: He was new to mediation, and accordingly he actively sought advice from a range of experts and genuinely listened to it. Crucially, the parties accepted his integrity. He could be brusque, and some accused him of punching above his political weight, but they knew he was not manipulative – which is a notable achievement, because in the low-trust world of mediation, mediators are suspected by both sides of having their own agendas. Quite correctly, he tried to be assertive on process but leave substance to the parties.

These qualities transformed the IGAD Secretariat from an institution that had previously been derided for lack of preparation and seriousness to a functional organization furnishing leadership to the combatants at the critical moment of exhaustion and war-wariness. At the signing ceremony in Naivasha on January 25, 2005, Museveni claimed the that achievement was an indication of what regional states could achieve in conict resolution: “We in the IGAD region and Africa as a whole have created a viable partnership, which reduces chances for outsiders to jump into solving regional conicts yet they have very little knowledge about them.”74 While successes tend to breed proprietary claims, mediation of African civil conicts does not lend itself easily to sole ownership given the divergent interests surrounding these conicts. A more accurate reading of the success of the decade-long IGAD talks is the convergence of multiple actors playing complementary, and oftentimes, competitive roles to steer the parties to rediscover points of agreements. As Sumbeiywo put it, his role primarily was to “help the parties build their own capacity to negotiate credible agreements.”75 Under U.S. leadership, the IPF continued to be an actor in the Sudan conict, and IGAD derived substantial benets from the relationship. Wearing both punitive and benign hats, the IPF helped shape the course of IGAD’s intervention. By shouldering the nancial burden for IGAD’s initiatives, the IPF obtained considerable leverage to induce institutional change. Its strident criticisms of the IGAD Secretariat permitted IGAD to learn from its mistakes,

PROFESSIONALIZING IGAD’S MEDIATION, 1999–2005

247

transforming the mediation from a lukewarm ministerial committee to a robust Secretariat that recaptured lost negotiating ground. Although dependent on donor funding, under Sumbeiywo, the IGAD Secretariat asserted its tactical autonomy from multiple forces and interests converging about the peace process. As Sumbeiywo noted: “After the Machakos Protocol everybody wanted to come in: the French, the Dutch, the South Africans, and the Arab League. But the doors had to be closed.”76 The IGAD initiative was a test case for regional collaborative efforts at selfmanagement for conict resolution in civil conicts. It illuminates both the possibilities and obstacles of peacemaking in regional contexts where the rules and structures of intervention are under construction, and where the spillover effects of civil conicts raise concerns that are only slowly being transformed into viable mechanisms and procedures for conict management.

Notes 1. “IGAD Peace Initiative Has Achieved Little for Sudan,” The EastAfrican, January 7, 2002. 2. Waithaka Waihenya, The Mediator: Gen. Lazaro Sumbeiywo and the Southern Sudan Peace Process (Nairobi: Kenway Publications, 2006), p. 144. 3. Interviews with Kenyan and American ofcials, Nairobi, January 18, 2001. 4. “Kenya: IGAD Team Warns Great Lakes Situation Getting Out of Hand,” FBIS-Afr-99–027, January 27, 1999. 5. “Sudan: Hope for ‘new Momentum’ at IGAD talks,” Agence France-Presse, April 15, 1999. 6. Interview with an American ofcial, Washington DC, November 1999. 7. Interview with an American ofcial, Washington DC, November 2000. 8. Abdelwahab El-Affendi, “The Impasse in the IGAD Peace Process for Sudan,” pp. 588–9. 9. Judith Achieng’, “Politics-Sudan: Government, Rebels Agree to Revive Peace Talks,” Inter Press Service, January 18, 2000; Chege Mbitiru, “Rebels say Sudan Bombed Town as Peace Talks Resume,” Associated Press, January 16, 2000; “Sudan Peace Talks End in Deadlock,” Agence France-Presse, January 2000; “Government delegation arrives in Nairobi for peace talks with rebels,” BBC Summary of World Broadcasts February 23, 2000; “Peace Talks in Kenya Reportedly End in Deadlock,” BBC Summary of World Broadcasts March 1, 2000. 10. “Opposition Ummah Army withdraws condence in Garang’s Leadership,” BBC Summary of World Broadcasts, March 24, 2000; “Mahdi’s Withdrawal Dents Opposition Alliance,” Panafrican News Agency, March 24, 2000; “Opposition Leader Mahdi Commends EgyptianLibyan Peace Initiative,” BBC Summary of World Broadcasts, April 13, 2000. 11. “North Africa; Sudan, Egypt, Libya Issue Joint Communiqué after Talks in Khartoum,” Africa News, January 13, 2000. 12. “Breakthrough in Sudan-U.S. Relations,” Reuters, March 6, 2000.

248

CHAPTER SEVEN

13. “Garang: ‘We are going to activate the SPLA in Khartoum proper’,” Mideast Mirror, vol. 14, no. 96, May 22, 2000. See also “Garang Wants Northern Opposition Included in Regional Peace Initiative,” BBC Summary of World Broadcasts, May 17, 2000; “Garang Said Not to Favor Partition from North,” BBC Summary of World Broadcasts, May 19, 2000. 14. “The Solution for Sudan – By John Garang,” Mideast Mirror, vol. 14, no. 93, May 17, 2000. 15. “SPLA Leader Suspends Participation at IGAD to Placate Egypt and Libya,” Sudan Democratic Gazette, June 2000, pp. 4–5. 16. “The IGAD Peace Process: Between a Rock and a Hard Place,” Sudan Democratic Gazette, September 2000, p. 5. 17. “A Helping Nudge to the IGAD Process has Some Success,” Sudan Democratic Gazette, November 2000, p. 9. 18. “El Mahdi Returns to a Tumultuous Public Welcome in Khartoum,” Sudan Democratic Gazette, December 2000, pp. 5–7. 19. “As IGAD Unravels at the Helm, What are the Prospects for Peace in Sudan? Sudan Democratic Gazette, December 2000, p. 12. 20. Sudan Democratic Gazette, December 2000, p. 12. 21. “Promoting Reconciliation: Has Egypt Derailed IGAD Peace Process on Sudan?” Sudan Democratic Gazette, February 2001, p. 10 and “Libya-Egyptian Initiative Achieves Progress in Sudanese Conict,” BBC Summary of World Broadcasts, January 11, 2001. 22. Jim Lobe, “Politics-Sudan/US: Factions War Over How to Bring Peace in Sudan,” Inter Press Service, February 26, 2001; and “Catholic Bishops Want Special Envoy for Sudan,” Business Day, April 25, 2001, p. 8. 23. Francis M. Deng and J. Stephen Morrison, U.S. Policy to End Sudan’s War: Report of the CSIS Task Force on U.S.-Sudan Policy (Washington, D.C.: CSIS, February 2001), p. 7. 24. Yahya Hassan, “Moi States IGAD Stand on Sudanese Civil War,” PanAfrican News Agency, March 17, 2001; “Moi, El-Bashir Push for IGAD Summit on Sudan,” PanAfrican News Agency, March 30, 2001. See also Yahya Hassan, “Nigeria to Assist Sudan Peace Process,” PanAfrican News Agency, April 12, 2001; and “EU Asks IGAD to Put Thrust in Sudan’s Peace Process,” PanAfrican News Agency, April 12, 2001. 25. Andrew England, “Sudan Government Says Summit will Fail without a Ceasere,” Associated Press, June 2, 2001; Yahya Hassan, “Bashir Says Refusal to Meet Garang was Tit for Tat,” PanAfrican News Agency, June 3, 2001. 26. “Regional Summit on Sudan Issues Joint Communiqué,” BBC Monitoring Service, June 2, 2001; “Kenyan President Says Sudanese to Have a Final Say on Peace,” BBC Monitoring Service, June 2, 2001. 27. “Sudan: EU Calls for Reinvigorated IGAD Peace Talks,” Africa News, June 9, 2001. 28. “Sudan: Opposition Groups Meet to Coordinate Peace Proposals,” Africa News, June 28, 2001; “Libya’s Gadaf Arrives in Sudan for Talks on Arab Peace Plan,” Agence France Presse, July 17, 2001. 29. “Egypt, Libya Hand Government, Opposition Peace Bid Proposals,” Agence France Presse, June 26, 2001 “Sudan: Khartoum Accepts Libyan-Egyptian Peace Initiative,” Africa News, July 7, 2001. 30. “Sudan Peace Plan Welcomed,” The Independent, July 5, 2001. 31. Mohamed Osman, “El-Bashir: Peace Initiative Does not Mean Separating Religion from the State,” Associated Press, July 22, 2001.

PROFESSIONALIZING IGAD’S MEDIATION, 1999–2005

249

32. “Sudanese Opposition Backs Arab Peace Plan But Asks for More,” Agence France Presse, June 29, 2001. 33. Abdelwahab El-Affendi, “Uncertainty in Sudan,” Mideast Mirror, July 11, 2001. 34. Two years after the resumption of the IGAD peace talks, Bashir spoke glowingly about U.S. role in the peace process: “Our country will in the next phase move with determination and energy to remove the vestiges of war in our international and regional relations . . . We will also seek in the next phase to complete the normalization of Sudan’s relations with the USA. We thank the USA for its care and patronage of the peace process. We, in particular, wish to specically thank President George Bush, who has expressed special interest in giving impetus to the peace talks and promised to support the peace after the signing of the nal accord.” “Sudan: Bashir Thanks President Bush for Helping Peace Process, Wants Ties to U.S.” FBIS-Afr-2004–0107, January 8, 2004. 35. For analyses of the Danforth initiatives see “Sudan Peace Talks Begin,” Agence FrancePresse, January 14, 2002; “US Peace Envoy Starts Sudan Mission,” Agence France-Presse, November 14, 2001; “A Cease-Fire Is Set in Sudan War,” The New York Times, January 20, 2002; and John Prendergast, “Senator Danforth’s Sudan Challenge: Building a Bridge to Peace,” CSIS Africa Notes, no. 5, January 2002; International Crisis Group, God, Oil, and Country: Changing Logic of War in Sudan (Washington, D. C.: International Crisis Group, 2002), pp. 169–75; and Peter Woodward, “Somalia and Sudan: A Tale of Two Peace Processes,” Round Table, no. 93, 2004, pp. 469–481. 36. “Sudanese Foreign Minister Interviewed on Nairobi Peace Talks, Relations with U.S.,” Al-Shar Al-Awsat (London), July 19, 2002. 37. “British Envoy Denies Putting Forward Formula for Resuming Sudan’s Peace Talks,” FBIS-Afr-2002–1010, October 11, 2002. 38. Interview with an American ofcial, Washington, DC, May 2006. 39. Waithaka Waihenya, The Mediator, pp. 38–39. 40. Waihenya, The Mediator, p. 85 remarks that former U.S. President Jimmy Carter “advised Sumbeiywo that unless he developed a single negotiating text, he would always run the risk of the negotiations getting bogged down by petty issues.” 41. “Reecting on the IGAD Peace Process,” An interview with Nicholas (Fink) Haysom, London, Conciliation Resources, 2006, http://www.c-r.org/our-work/accord/sudan/mediatorsperspective.php. 42. “Sudanese Foreign Minister Interviewed on Nairobi Peace Talks, Relations with U.S.,” Al-Shar Al-Awsat (London), July 19, 2002. 43. “Negotiating peace: the road to Naivasha: an Interview with Mohamed el-Mukhtar Hussein,” London, Conciliation Resources, 2006, http://www.c-r.org/our-work/accord/sudan/mediatorsperspective.php. 44. “New Round of Talks Begin on Ending Sudanese Civil War,” Deutsche Presse Agentur, June 17, 2002; “Senior U.S. Ofcial Upbeat on Sudan Peace Talks After Visit,” Deutsche Presse Agentur, July 3, 2002. 45. Sumbeiywo claims that the U.S. through Danforth was opposed to the self-determination of Southern Sudan, and he had to ght a battle with the Americans. See Waihenya, The Mediator, pp. 89–91. 46. “The Machakos Protocol,” in Korwa G. Adar and others, eds., Sudan Peace Process: Challenges and Future Prospects (Pretoria: Africa Institute of South Africa. 2004), p. 198. 47. “The Machakos Protocol. See also Tabitha J. Sei, “The Intergovernmental Authority (IGAD) and the Sudanese Peace Process,” in Korwa Adar and others, eds., Sudan Peace Process: Challenges and Future Prospects (Pretoria: Africa Institute, 2004), pp. 15–36.

250

CHAPTER SEVEN

48. Sudan Signs Historic Peace Pact,” The Calgary Herald, July 22, 2002. 49. “Sudan: President al-Bashir, Rebel Leader Vow in a Communiqué to Push for Peace,” Agence France Presse, July 27, 002; “Sudanese President and Main Rebel Leader vow to Work for Peace,” Deutsche Presse Agentur, July 3, 2002. 50. Reecting on the IGAD Peace Process: An interview with Nicholas (Fink) Haysom,” London, Conciliation Resources, 2006, http://www.c-r.org/our-work/accord/sudan/mediators-perspective.php. 51. “Sudan’s al-Bashir Orders Army to Unleash ‘Unrestrained’ War to Recapture Torit,” Agence France Presse, September 2, 2002; “Kansteiner Mediates after Breakdown of Sudan Peace Talks,” Deutsche Presse Agentur, September 3, 2002; “Sudan Sets Conditions for Resumption of Peace Talks,” Deutsche Presse Agentur, September 7, 2002; “Sudan Opponents Agree to Resume Peace Talks,” Deutsche Presse Agentur, October 4, 2002. 52. “Sudan: Truce Between Government, Rebels Comes into Force,” Agence France Presse, October 17, 2002; “Sudanese Government and the SPLA Close to a Ceasere,” Deutsche Presse Agentur, October 4, 2002. 53. “Temporary Ceasere Takes Effect in Sudan, First in 19–year War,” Deutsche Presse Agentur, October 17, 2002. 54. “Sudan: U.S. Envoy Says Last Round of Peace Talks ‘Very Successful’,” Deutsche Presse Agentur, November 22, 2002. 55. “Sudan: Government Spokesman comments on Sudanese Peace Talks in Kenya,” FBISAfr-2003–0202, February 3, 2003; “Sudan, Rebels Suspend Peace Talks, to Resume Last Week of February,” FBIS-Afr-2003–0206, February 7, 2003. 56. Waihenya, The Mediator, pp. 115–16. See also Emeric Rogier, No More Hills Ahead? The Sudan Tortuous Ascent to the Heights of Peace (The Hague: Netherlands Institution of International Relations, Clingendael Security Paper No. 1, August 2005), pp. 92–93. 57. “Sudan Government, Rebels Still at Odds over the ‘Framework Document’,” AllAfrica.com, September 4, 2003. As Sudan’s information minister, Ibrahim Malik commented: “The IGAD document presented at the second round of negotiations threatens the unity and stability of Sudan in the medium- and long-term. The document talks about two defense ministers and two central banks, one in the north and one in the south. In the future, why not talk about two ags and two presidents? This document consecrates secession after we secured in Machakos that Sudan would remain a single nation. Furthermore, this document could incite the other regions to do the same . . . The document is the brainchild of Western and regional sides that do not wish stability for Sudan . . . It seems that the latest IGAD document assumed that the SPLM were victorious, otherwise, why would the document present such unrealistic and totally unacceptable proposals. “Sudan: Information Minister on Peace Talks Russian Involvement with the SPLM,” FBIS-Afr-2003, 0211, August 7, 2003. 58. For a summary of the debate between IGAD and South Africa see Waihenya, The Mediator, pp. 114–115. 59. “Sudan Peace Talks on the Verge of Collapse,” Al-Khartoum, August 16, 2003; “Ofcial Says Sudan Peace Talks in Stalemate,” Xinhua, August 16, 2003. 60. “Sudan Vice President, Rebel Leader Set to Resume Talks,” PanAfrican News Agency, September 9, 2003. 61. Waihenya, The Mediator, p. 112. 62. “Sudan: Discontent within the SPLA,” Financial Times, February 6, 2004.

PROFESSIONALIZING IGAD’S MEDIATION, 1999–2005

251

63. “Reecting on the IGAD Peace Process An interview with Nicholas (Fink) Haysom,” London, Conciliation Resources, 2006, http://www.c-r.org/our-work/accord/sudan/mediatorsperspective.php. 64. “ ‘Breakthrough’ Made in Sudanese Peace Talks,” FBIS-Afr-2003–0919, September 18, 2003. 65. “Sudanese President Praises Rebel Leader, Sees ‘Comprehensive Peace’ at Hand,” FBIS-Afr2003–1009, October 10, 2003. See also the comments of SPLM spokesman, Yasir Arman: “The arrangements agreement was an extremely important accomplishment, considering that it is the rst international experience in which an agreement is reached on the situation of two armies in one country.” “Sudan: SPLM Spokesman Views Peace Talks, Future Elections, Form of Government,” Al-Sharq-Al-Awsat (London), November 23, 2003. 66. “Powell Urges ‘Aggressive’ Progress on Sudan Peace Talks,” Deutsche Presse-Agentur, October 21, 2003; “Sudanese Government Hoping for Peace Agreement by Year’s End,” Deutsche Presse-Agentur, December 11, 2003. According to Sumbeiywo: “Whenever one party reneged, I always rang Colin Powell. He came to Nairobi to combat heel-dragging as we were trying to give the nal push.” See, “The Mediator’s Perspective: An interview with General Lazaro Sumbeiywo,” London, Conciliation Resources, 2006, http://www. c-r.org/our-work/accord/sudan/mediators-perspective.php. 67. “Sudan: SPLM Spokesman Views Peace Talks, Future Elections, Form of Government,” Al-Sharq-Al-Awsat (London), November 23, 2003. 68. “Sudanese Foreign Minister Comments on UAE Role in Post-War Sudan,” FBIS-Afr-2003– 0118, January 20, 2004; Sudan Strikes Deal with Rebels on Wealth Sharing,” Deutsche Presse-Agentur, January 6, 2004. 69. “Sudanese Sides at Peace Talks in Kenya Discuss Progress,” Agence France Presse, March 18, 2004; “Sudan: Peace Talks Mediating Body Puts Forward ‘Compromise Solutions’,” FBIS-Afr-2004–0422, April 23, 2004. 70. “Sudan, U.S. Intensify Contacts to Overcome Impasse in Peace Talks,” Agence France Presse, March 6, 2004. During his visit, Snyder noted that: “I’ve been doing a little shouting and yelling – everyone has been doing a little shouting and yelling.” 71. “Sudanese Government, Rebels End Peace Talks in Kenya: No Ceasere Deal,” Agence France Presse, July 28, 2004. 72. “Sudanese Government, Southern Rebels Hammer out Final Peace Deal,” Deutsche PresseAgentur, October 7, 2004. 73. See, for instance, Oscar Arias, “Esquipulas II: The Management of Regional Crisis,” in Douglas P. Fry and Kaj Bjorkqvist, eds., Cultural Variation in Conict Resolution: Alternatives to Violence (Mahwa, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, 1996); Paul Wehr and John Paul Lederach, “Negotiating Peace in Central America,” and Johanna Oliver, “The Esquipulas Process: A Central American Paradigm for Resolving Regional Conict,” Ethnic Studies Report, vol. 16, no. 2, July 1999, pp. 150–191. 74. Marc Lacy, “Sudan and Southern Rebels Sign Deal Ending Civil War,” New York Times, January 10, 2005. For a critical perspective on the CPA see John Young, “John Garang’s Legacy to the Peace Process, the SPLM/A and the South,” Review of African Political Economy, vol. 32, no. 106, 2005, pp. 535–48; and Young, “Sudan: A Flawed Peace Process Leading to a Flawed Peace,” Review of African Political Economy, vol. 32, no. 103, 2005, pp. 99–113.

252

CHAPTER SEVEN

75. The Mediator’s Perspective: An interview with General Lazaro Sumbeiywo, London, Conciliation Resources, 2006, http://www.c-r.org/our-work/accord/sudan/mediators-perspective. php. 76. The Mediator’s Perspective: An interview with General Lazaro Sumbeiywo, London, Conciliation Resources, 2006, http://www.c-r.org/our-work/accord/sudan/mediators-perspective. php.

Chapter Eight

Conclusion: Beyond Meddling? Eastern African Mediators in Comparative Perspectives We need our own African Jimmy Carters who enjoy global respect and acceptability to assist in conict resolution and management. We should ensure that their wisdom is fully utilized for the benet of conict situations on the continent.1 General Emmanuel Erskine, November 1996 We understand the situations better and we share certain emotions. I think Africa should not be absent from mediation. I think Africa should set up structures that should allow us to work in African countries – instead of following events like spectators – to discuss in the African way, to tell each other the truth.2 General Olusegun Obasanjo, August 1994 There is plenty of business around President Moi could pursue in his contemplated retirement. He can focus on mediating in tattered places like Somalia, a job he has been doing on and off. With the mess that country is in, a mediation job there can be a full-time occupation. Tiresome, yes, but the rewards, and the international accolades that would go with it, is all that any statesman would ask for.3 Gitau Warigi, December 2001

The focus on the contexts and circumstances of Eastern African mediators in civil wars reveals three overarching themes. First, in escalating conicts, African mediators believe they can make a difference. In their quest for meaningful roles, these mediators invoke Jimmy Carter’s stature to underscore an intervention record anchored in enviable and sturdy institutional standing and successes. Second, even as they invoke global role models, African mediators still frame their intervention in the language of ownership. Obasanjo’s allusion to the “African way” illustrates the use of cultural arguments to legitimate local mediators. Third, emulating success stories and the “international accolades” that derive from them is a gradual process of building the capacity for effective mediation.

254

CHAPTER EIGHT

These themes highlight the interplay between structural and cultural variables in analyses of African mediation. The structural contexts that yield successful outcomes are universally characterized by the judicious deployment of power and resources, knowledge of parties and issues, and preparedness for the demanding tasks of reconciling disputants. In contrast, the cultural arguments which African mediators routinely mobilize to justify their efcacy and claim ownership of mediation enterprises seek to insulate African conicts from the intrusive interests of external actors. But xation with cultural concerns and local ownership often hampers the search for effective mediators by inhibiting fruitful debates about how to overcome the multiple constraints on African mediators. Bridging the analytical divide between structural and cultural explanations needs to proceed from recognition of the impediments and opportunities that African mediators face as they intervene in civil wars. African civil wars are rooted in disputes over power, identities, and resources. These conicts propel mediators who seek to assist combatants to set aside their competitiveness and permit cooperative alternatives. This study has suggested that the leverage of mediators in civil conicts derives from the resources to compel compliance or promise rewards to disputants, and the latter’s acceptance of outsiders to resolve their conict. In ideal circumstances, both forms of power work in tandem as external actors help parties to resolve their conict. Where, as in the African cases, there is a dearth of exogenous leverage, mediators resort to endogenous power that stem from the invitational opportunities to participate in the search for solutions to these conicts. This structure, as Zartman and Touval note, gives mediators the bargaining capability that they can utilize for creative ends: “This is a structural role, since it directly involves power and relations. In this role, [mediators] transform the relations from a dyad into a triangle, and become actors with interests, or full participants.”4 For the most part, African mediators lack many tangible resources for mediation, other than the power of being invited by parties who need help. How the mediators use and embrace this power is central to judging the effectiveness of their mediation efforts. The power of being invited cannot be underestimated because, as these cases demonstrate, it provides opportunities for local mediators to learn mediation skills by involvement in these exercises. With few tangible sources of leverage, African interveners rely primarily on the relational power of entry, invitation, and acceptance. These power sources legitimize intervention, but they do not guarantee effective mediation. This study has proposed that the transformation of invitation into creative vistas for mediation stems from how African actors build organizational power. In its descriptive and prescriptive dimensions, organizational power bridges the gap between the array of structural and cultural facets that impinge on the

CONCLUSION: EASTERN AFRICAN MEDIATORS IN COMPARATIVE PERSPECTIVES

255

intermediary capacity of African interveners. It captures the mix of mediators’ integrity, authority and worthiness, and their ability to participate in mediation. The dominant cultural variables used to justify the advantage of African mediators such as shared experiences, understanding, trust, and rapport may enhance entry and invitation, but they cannot substitute for the hard work that goes with building organizational power. In civil conicts, organizational power is even more important because mediators undertake difcult tasks including: initiating and leading negotiations, participating in diplomatic efforts to rescue stalled talks, and mobilizing assorted constituencies to bring pressures to bear on the parties. These roles demand coordination because of competing interests that converge around African civil conicts. The process of linking invitational to organizational power speaks to the differentiation between meddlers and mediators. However, as this study has emphasized, it also underscores how, over the years, African interveners have embraced gradually intermediary roles that are grounded in professionalism. Meddlers remain part of the African intermediary landscape, jumping into negotiations invited or uninvited. Libyan leader Gaddaf’s perennial intervention in conicts as wide ranging as the Central African Republic, Cote d’Ivoire, and Darfur exemplies this pattern. Gaddaf is a powerful meddler, able to deploy his immense resources to gain entry, but he does not always succeed in translating this power into meaningful conict resolution roles. There are also other meddlers, such as Gabon’s Omar Bongo, whose invitation and participation in the negotiations in Burundi, the DRC, and the Republic of Congo steadily dissipated as other foreign policy chores diverted his attention. Bongo is a quintessential leader of a small country seeking to enhance his international standing through mediation but he ends up being only a meddler. Overall, meddlers have declined because of the fatigue that accompanies protracted negotiations in civil wars, leaving intervention tasks to actors with the adroitness in the use of organizational power. In this respect, the cases in this book underscore the fact that participation in diverse civil conicts has furnished African actors with opportunities to learn and experiment with some of the core elements associated with better handling of mediation. These opportunities emerged as a result of whittling down of the principles of sovereignty and territorial integrity that had insulated African conicts from external mediators. In the rst rupture of these principles, Moi intervened to force negotiations as the civil war fragmented Uganda’s sovereignty. But the mediation exercise revealed that although heads of states bring authority and prestige to mediation, the demands of ofce encumber their capacity to use mediation roles appropriately for conict resolution; neither do these demands furnish the exibility that is a critical facet of organizational power. General

256

CHAPTER EIGHT

Sumbeiwyo has summarized the importance of mediator’s exibility in reections on his involvement in Sudan: “I don’t think anybody like a President would have the time to sit, eat, go to the gym, sauna or steam bath with the parties. Being involved with them in those different ways was very important. It takes months of engagement. It takes neutrality. I am not one to close any avenues for anybody.”5 The elevation of new actors such as foreign ministries, special advisers, ministerial committees, secretariats, and elder statesmen to the fore of mediation underlines changes in the institutions involved in African mediation. Their proliferation constitutes the yearning for more solid institutions and actors who can terminate conicts. Rwanda, Burundi, and the IGAD mediations reveal the attempts to cede mediation responsibilities to institutions with the ability and competence to overcome some of the aws of using primarily heads of states and presidents. Tanzania established this pattern by assigning the Arusha negotiations mediation to a professional team in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs ofcial led by Ambassador Ami Mpungwe. The Arusha negotiations established a working relationship that balanced the imperatives of organization and leverage: foreign ministry ofcials controlled the mediation while the president intervened at crucial moments to exert inuence on the parties when the talks reached deadlocks. This reduced the overexposure of Tanzania’s president to the vagaries of the negotiations and allowed Mpungwe and his team to steer the negotiations professionally. The Nyerere and Mandela mediation teams in Burundi used some Tanzanian mediators who had developed their skills during the 1992–1993 Rwanda talks in Arusha. Such continuity reects the growing accretion of expertise that has solidied Tanzania’s corps of mediators in the Great Lakes region. The IGAD initiative in Sudan also exemplies changes in institutional locus as the mediation mandate gravitated from Moi and the Foreign Minister’s committee and then to the IGAD Secretariat under the leadership of special envoys, Mboya and Sumbeiywo. Moi appointed Sumbeiywo, a close condant, who put his imprimatur on the IGAD Secretariat, transforming it into an institution that symbolized the convergence of invitational and organizational power. Similarly, after taking over from Mandela, former South African Deputy President Zuma quickly established his authority over Burundi’s parties. Both Sumbeiywo and Zuma grew in their roles as mediators by making themselves useful and indispensable to the parties, and by skillful management of regional and international pressures, they succeeded in husbanding major agreements. During the two-year IGAD-led Somalia negotiations in Eldoret, Kenya, and Nairobi, former Kenyan diplomat, Bethuel Kiplagat mediated the talks that resulted in the October 2004 agreement to create a revitalized Transitional

CONCLUSION: EASTERN AFRICAN MEDIATORS IN COMPARATIVE PERSPECTIVES

257

Federal Government (TFG). Like Tanzania’s participation in the mediation in the Great Lakes region, Kenya’s leadership of IGAD peace initiatives in Somalia and Sudan Kenya furnished it with opportunities to deepen its professional mediation capacity.6 African mediators have beneted from interaction with international experts in negotiation committees from Burundi, the DRC, and Sudan. These committees have been vehicles of socialization in international best practices and have forged potentially fruitful long-term links between African and international actors. International experts as co-mediators have been most useful when they have complemented and supplemented local efforts by enhancing the organizational capacity of local mediators. In some cases, such as the Nyerere mediation of Burundi, however, proponents of foreign experts oftentimes have been motivated by the desire to supplant and subvert local mediation. One way out of this quandary is strengthening the practice of appointing African actors under the auspices of the Special Representatives of the United Nations Secretary General (SRSG) to mediate in conicts. In recent years, Ahmedou Ould-Abdallah in Burundi, Moustapha Niasse in the DRC, Salim Ahmed Salim in Darfur, and Joaquim Chissano in Northern Uganda have occupied these positions. Some SRSGs, however, may have ambiguous mandates and tenuous links to building local capacity and thus may not substitute for the creation of indigenous professional mediators. More problematic also are cases where the international community foists African SRSGs into conicts with the objective of marginalization local actors. This study also has focused on the innovation of elder statesmen in mediation. As they carve critical power brokerage niches in regional conicts, elder statesmen such as Nyerere and Mandela, Chissano, and Ketumile Masire in the DRC, have relied on previous institutional standing, individual stature, and international legitimacy. Discussions about the signicance of these mediators have evolved from the facile cultural conceptions to more realistic views of their strengths and weaknesses. Personal stature aside, elder statesmen are embedded in national, regional, and international contexts that determine their intervention latitude; they depend on authority structures which they often have limited control. Unlike holders of state power, however, they impart a level of commitment and continuity that makes a substantial impact on the conduct of mediation. Furthermore, as Mandela’s gesture of relinquishing of Burundi mediation talks to Zuma demonstrates, linking elder statesmen to state actors may portend the beginning of better collaborative relationships between state mediators and elder statesmen. The growth of elder statesmen ultimately hinges on national processes that promote electoral competition and rotation of power. This would allow some

258

CHAPTER EIGHT

long-serving heads of state to retire or to lose elections and thus matriculate as mediators. With more leaders such as Moi and Tanzania’s Benjamin Mkapa retiring, the stock of elder statesmen may burgeon. After he left ofce in 2003, Moi created the Moi Africa Institute whose objective is to help resolve conicts in the region. IGAD’s special envoy, Sumbeiywo, is one of the leading gures in the Moi institute, demonstrating the institutional marriage of the experiences of a special envoy and an elder statesman. More recently, President Mwai Kibaki, in a strange twist, appointed Moi as Kenya’s Special Envoy to Sudan. African mediators are still searching for mechanisms to pool diplomatic resources to overcome power constraints. Using regional organizations, African countries have tried to own mediation efforts to insulate external actors from local conicts. But as they shoulder more mediation responsibilities, regional organizations confront problems of leadership, coherence, and coordination that have implications in building organizational capacity. Although proximity to conicts compels neighbors to seek mediated settlements, the more fundamental problem is translating such stakes into intermediary clout that makes up for the absence of power resources. The IGAD experience of checking the effects of Sudan’s civil war established a novel framework to bring diverse pressures to bear on the parties for a negotiated settlement. IGAD, however, also shows that collective mediation in regional settings confronts obstacles whenever conict and mediation environments overlap; in the course of the mediation, conicts within IGAD overshadowed the primary conict. Furthermore, IGAD illustrates that multilateral mediation efforts are cumbersome and unwieldy, succeeding only when a much narrower institution such as the IGAD Secretariat emerges to take the lead. Sanctions against Burundi demonstrated collective power that sought to increase the leverage of regional actors. But the mixed record of implementing sanctions indicated the teething problems of the deployment of coercive power in Eastern Africa. Overall, the institutional stamp afforded by regional states during the Burundian negotiations supplemented the mediation of elder statesmen—Nyerere and Mandela—, and South African envoys. Future efforts to boost the capacity of African regional organizations hinge on the growth of African power centers that may exert economic and political leverage for mediation. South Africa comes close to having an independent power center that has been germane in conict resolution and mediation. Through Mandela’s mediation in Burundi and the DRC, South Africa has started to assert a leadership role in the conicts in the Great Lakes region, with the potential of reducing the multiplicity of mediators converging about these conicts. In building on the structures of South African power, Mandela invariably created additional stakes that have tied South Africa to the fortunes of post-conict settlements in Burundi and the DRC. For South Africa, new

CONCLUSION: EASTERN AFRICAN MEDIATORS IN COMPARATIVE PERSPECTIVES

259

roles in the Great Lakes region have arisen because even though tangible stakes force mediation, oftentimes, such interventions engender interests that supersede the original limited motives. Elsewhere in the region, the dominant pattern is the use of regional institutions for mediation and conict resolution by states that are attempting to avoid the perception of unilateralism or those that cannot act alone. Tanzania’s position in Eastern Africa is illustrative of the tendency to operate within regional structures. The quandary of exerting leadership in regional institutions stems from an inherent imbalance in Tanzania’s leadership credentials. While it was always indispensable to a settlement in Burundi, Dar es Salaam’s posture in the peace process seemed more draconian because it had more sticks (threats to unleash refugees or supporting elements of the Burundi rebellion) than tangible carrots, other than its power of example in the record of relative political stability and ethnic harmony. The result was that Tanzania proceeded cautiously in using regional institutions to conceal its punitive face; acting alone, it was subjected to charges of sub-imperialism by some Burundian parties. Similarly, because of the mistrust of Somali leaders have toward Ethiopia, Addis Ababa has always been hampered in its ability to play a mediation role in the long-running civil conict. Until it intervened militarily on the side of the TFG in December 2006, Ethiopia’s approach had been to work within IGAD in crafting a coordinated Somalia policy. Like South Africa’s mediation engagement in the Great Lakes region, Ethiopian military engagement has created more stakes in Somalia, demanding resources and attention. Yet unlike South Africa, Ethiopia intervened in Somalia on the backs of resource-rich U.S. war on terrorism. This means that the sub-imperial face of Ethiopian policy in the Horn of Africa would be short-lived without signicant U.S. support. If Ethiopia wants more weight in regional issues, therefore, it does not have much choice but to use IGAD, an institution that it currently does not nd useful, particularly because of its animosities with Eritrea. In the same vein, Kenya operates in regional institutions because it lacks the resources or the political will to exert independent leadership in East Africa and the Horn of Africa. Although African conict management operates in regional environments of instability, these contexts remain the sources of opportunities and constraints for mediators. Regions afford opportunities for collective efforts for problem solving, arenas where states can accumulate valuable lessons about intervention and mediation. But regions are frequently sources of political and socioeconomic strains that annul the gains from mediation. Where there are few successful agreements or where successes are overwhelmed by contiguous conicts, the standard prescription is to link internal negotiations to regional peace processes to broaden zones of amity, create mutual responsibilities, constraints,

260

CHAPTER EIGHT

and norms. The international effort to organize a regional conference for the Great Lakes region partly reected this perspective, that is, to protect peace and reconstruction in Burundi, the DRC, and Rwanda the region needs overarching mechanisms for order, security, and prosperity. Creating these linkages may introduce extraneous issues into some conicts and complicate peacemaking, but it is one way of constructing political and security interdependence that may form the foundations for enduring sources of inuence and power. This book has addressed the question of external engagement in African mediation. It expresses itself not just in the traditional search by African actors for additional sources of clout, but more signicant, in the improvement of the organizational capacity of local mediators. The post cold war context of external interveners in African conicts could be likened to Simmel’s structural conception of mediators as actors torn between balancing distance and nearness, indifference and involvement.7 Distance and indifference proceed from the assumption that indigenous actors need to learn to manage their conicts, but nearness and involvement recognize that local actors do not have the means to resolve these conicts. Hence, external actors promote local mediation in the name of African solutions to African problems, with the caveat that left to their own devices, African actors cannot deliver peace agreements. Intrusive engagements by donors, however, invariably denude the mediation efforts of their local content. Moreover, donors must confront the dilemma that while capacity building demands that local actors maintain a measure of control over their initiatives, this autonomy is often lost when external actors crowd them out of mediation exercises. Although the dominance of special envoys, international mediation consultants, and other peace-building experts constrains African mediators operating on shoestring budgets, the multilateralism witnessed in the Arusha negotiations on Rwanda in 1992–1993 offers an apt paradigm for external engagement that dovetails with boosting the organizational room of local mediators. In closely coordinating local and international action, the mediation was endowed with a wider international context of power, prodding, and legitimacy. There was also a perception among international actors that credible local mediators needed more of a supportive, helping hand than interventionist, hand-holding. Similarly, after a contentious period of mutual suspicion, the intervention of Nyerere and Mandela in Burundi wrought a division of labor that drew from the supplementation of local initiatives and international action. IGAD and the IPF strengthened the collaborative dynamic that accorded local mediators the room to experiment but under the studied superintendence of external actors funding the peace process.

CONCLUSION: EASTERN AFRICAN MEDIATORS IN COMPARATIVE PERSPECTIVES

261

Managing the contentious relations between local and foreign actors, however, cannot obscure the problem of crowdedness that characterizes African mediation. In African conicts where multiple actors vie for mediation positions, orderly entry is important to develop realistic negotiating frameworks. Where multiple actors seek to intervene, who enters and stays as a mediator determines the belligerent’s articulation of claims and commitment to negotiations. Hence the issue becomes how to disaggregate among competing interveners before the process degenerates into a multiplicity of initiatives, which often run concurrently and parallel to each other. The crowdedness that clouds African peacemaking is not insurmountable in the short-and medium-terms because protracted peace efforts frequently wean mediators with clout from both local and international meddlers. Exhaustion and lack of capacity help winnow meddlers from salient actors with signicant stakes, reducing the multiplication of actors at the moment of entry to the mediation. The less soluble issue of crowdedness is not at the initial point of entry, but rather, in the long-term access various actors cultivate with disputants as conicts evolve. As demonstrated by NGOs in the Sudan and Burundi, these distinctive and alternative axes of power are difcult for mediators to manage, particularly as humanitarian crises inevitably foster signicant role differentiation in these conicts. Although most scholars have proposed the fashioning of interlocking roles in mediation in which multiple mediators with a range of resources and capabilities coalesce around a conict in the quest for solutions, African mediators have to deal with vast problems of coordination of pressures and incentives.8 The host of organizational sources of power sufcient to boost the growing professionalism of African mediators ultimately derives from the training and accumulation of experiences in mediation contexts and the domestication of these experiences. Likewise, building the capacity and credibility of African actors is a question of changes in institutional roles in national domains, particularly in foreign policymaking establishments. Although there have been attempts to devolve power to foreign ministries, secretariats, special envoys and elder statesmen, the problem is whether the new mediators will nd institutional room in narrow regimes that continue to inordinately control foreign policy. Most changes that have occurred over the last few years in African mediation practices have yet to be fully translated in institutional terms at national levels. Institutionalization entails underwriting the roles of the actors in mediation in steady, sturdy, transparent rules, and structures that insulate them from executive prerogatives and bureaucratic at.

262

CHAPTER EIGHT

Notes 1. Lionel Williams, “Erskine Urges Africa To Intervene In Conicts,” Pan-African News Agency, 28 November 1996. 2. “Former Nigerian, Mali Presidents Mediating in Conict,” FBIS-Afr-94–147, August 1, 1994. 3. Gitau Warigi, “Moi’s Future,” Sunday Nation, December 23, 2001. 4. Saadia Touval and I. William Zartman, “International Mediation: Conict Resolution and Power Politics,” Journal of Social Issues, vol. 41, no. 2, 1985, p. 18. 5. “The Mediator’s Perspective: An interview with General Lazaro Sumbeiywo,” London, Conciliation Resources, London, http://www.c-r.org/our-work/accord/sudan/mediators-perspective.php. 6. On Kenya’s role in IGAD see, for instance, Peter Woodward, “Somalia and Sudan: A Tale of Two Peace Processes,” Round Table, vol. 93, no. 375, July 2004, pp. 469–83. 7. Cited in Jack Nusan Porter and Ruth Taplin, Conict and Conict Resolution: a Sociological Introduction (Lanham: University Press of America, 1987), p. 32. 8. Christopher R.Mitchell, “External Peace-Making Initiatives and Intra-National Conict,” in Manus Midlarsky, ed., The Internationalization of Communal Conict (London: Routledge, 1993), pp. 273–78; Louis Kriesberg, “Coordinating Intermediary Peace Efforts,” Negotiation Journal, vol. 12, no. 3, October 1996, pp. 341–52; and Chester Crocker and others, “Two’s Company but is Three a Crowd? Some Hypotheses about Multiparty Mediation,” in Jacob Bercovitch, ed., Studies in International Mediation: Essays in Honor of Jeffrey Z. Rubin (New York: Palgrave-Macmillan, 2002), pp. 228–257.

Bibliography Abrams, Jason. “Burundi: Anatomy of Ethnic Conict.” Survival, vol. 37, no. 1, 1995, pp. 144–64. Adedeji, Adebayo. “An Alternative for Africa,” Journal of Democracy, vol. 5, no. 4, 1985, pp. 19–32. El-Affendi, Abdelwahab. “The Impasse in the IGAD Peace Process for Sudan: The Limits of Regional Peacemaking?” African Affairs, vol. 100, no. 401, 2001. Arias, Oscar. “Esquipulas II: The Management of Regional Crisis,” in Douglas P. Fry and Kaj Bjorkqvist, eds., Cultural Variation in Conict Resolution: Alternatives to Violence (Mahwa, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, 1996). Assefa, Hizkias. Mediation of Civil Wars: Approaches and Strategies – The Sudan Conict (Boulder: Westview, 1987). ——. “The Challenge of Mediation of Internal Wars: Reections on the INN Experience in the Ethiopian/Eritrean Conict,” Security Dialogue, vol. 23, no. 3, 1992. ——. “Conict Resolution Perspectives on Civil Wars in the Horn of Africa,” Negotiation Journal, vol. 5, no. 2, April 1990, pp. 173–83. Avruch, Kevin and Peter W. Black. “The Culture Question and Conict Resolution, Peace and Change, vol. 16 no. 1, January 1991, pp. 22–45. Bentley, Kristina A. and Roger Southall. An African Peace Process: Mandela, South Africa, and Burundi (Cape Town: Human Sciences Research Council and the Mandela Foundation, 2005). Bercovitch, Jacob. “Mediators and Mediation Strategies in International Relations,” Negotiation Journal, vol. 8 no. 2, 1992. ——. “Understanding Mediation’s Role in Preventive Diplomacy,” Negotiation Journal, vol. 12, no. 3, July 1996, pp. 241–58. ——. “Introduction: Thinking about Mediation,” in Bercovitch, ed., Resolving International Conicts: The Theory and Practice of Mediation (Boulder: Lynne Rienner, 1996), pp. 1–9. Bilder, Richard B. “International Third-Party Dispute Settlement,” in Dennis J. D. Sandole and Ingrid Sandole-Starotse, eds., Conict Management and Problem Solving: Interpersonal and International Applications (New York: New York University Press, 1987). ——. “International Third Party Dispute Settlement,” Denver Journal of International Law, vol. 17, no. 3, Spring 1983. Boyer, Allison, “Burundi: Unity at Last,” Africa Report, vol. 37, no. 2, March–April 1992, pp. 37–40. Brown, Michael E. ed., The International Dimensions of Internal War (Cambridge: MIT Press, 1996). Burton, John. “The Facilitation of International Conict Resolution,” in Louis Kriesberg, ed., Research in Social Movements: Conict and Change (London: JAI Press, 1990), pp. 33–45. Carment, David and Patrick James. eds., Wars in the Midst of Peace: The International Politics of Ethnic Conicts (Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press, 1997).

264

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Carment, David and Patrick James. “Escalation of Ethnic Conict,” International Politics, vol. 35, no. 1, 1998, pp. 65–82. Carnevale, Peter J. “Mediating from Strength,” in Jacob Bercovitch, ed., Studies in International Mediation: Essays in Honor of Jeffrey Z. Rubin (New York: Palgrave-Macmillan, 2002). ——. “Strategic Choice in Mediation,” Negotiation Journal, vol. 2, no. 1, 1986. Cohen, Herman J. Intervening in Africa: Superpower Peacemaking in a Troubled Continent (New York: Macmillan, 2000). Cohen, Raymond. “Cultural Aspects of International Mediation,” in Jacob Bercovitch, ed., Resolving International Conicts: The Theory and Practice of Mediation (Boulder: Lynne Rienner, 1996), pp. 107–28. Collins, Robert O. “Africans, Arabs, and Islamists: From the Conference Tables to the Battleelds in the Sudan,” African Studies Review, vol. 42, no. 2, September 1999, pp. 113–114. Conlon, Donald. “The Mediation-Intravention Discussion: Toward an Integrative Perspective,” Negotiation Journal, vol. 7, no. 2, April 1988. Crawford, Neta and Audie Klotz. How Sanctions Work: Lessons from South Africa (New York: Macmillan, 1999). Crocker, Chester, Fen Osler Hampson, and Pamela Aal. “Ready for Prime Time: The When, Who, and Why of International Mediation,” Negotiation Journal, vol. 19, no. 3, July 2003, pp. 151–57. ——. “Two’s Company but is Three a Crowd? Some Hypotheses about Multiparty Mediation,” in Jacob Bercovitch, ed., Studies in International Mediation: Essays in Honor of Jeffrey Z. Rubin (New York: Palgrave-Macmillan, 2002), pp. 228–257. Daly, M. W. and Ahmad Sikainga. eds., The Civil War in the Sudan (London: British Academy Press, 1993). Deng, Francis M. “Africa’s Dilemmas in the Sudan,” World Today, vol. 54, no. 3, March 1998, pp. 72–5. ——. War of Visions: Conict of Identities in the Sudan (Washington, D.C.: The Brooking Institution, 1995). Deng, Francis M. and J. Stephen Morrison. U.S. Policy to End Sudan’s War: Report of the CSIS Task Force on U.S.-Sudan Policy (Washington, D.C.: CSIS, February 2001). Dobinson, Kristin. Mediatory Power and Small States: The Case of Norway, M. A. Dissertation, University of Kent, 1995. Dunn, Larry A. and Kriesberg, “Mediating Intermediaries: Expanding Roles of Transnational Organizations,” in Jacob Bercovitch, Studies in International Mediation, pp. 194–212. Eisenstadt, Todd and Daniel Garcia. “Colombia: Negotiations in a Shifting Pattern of Insurgency,” in I. William Zartman, ed., Elusive Peace: Negotiating to End Civil Wars (Washington, D.C.: The Brookings Institution, 1995). Evans, Glynne. Responding to Crises in the African Great Lakes, Adelphi Paper No. 311 (London: International Institute for Strategic Studies, 1997). Faure, Guy-Olivier. “The Mediator as a Third Party Negotiator,” in Frances Mautner-Markhof, ed., Processes of International Negotiations (Boulder: Westview, 1989), pp. 415–17. Feil, Scott R. Preventing Genocide: How the Use of Force Might Have Succeeded in Rwanda (New York: Carnegie Corporation Report, April 1998). Fisher, Ronald. “Negotiating Power: Getting and Using Inuence,” American Behavioral Scientist, vol. 27, no. 2, November–December 1983. Fisher, Roger and Loraleigh Keashly. “The Potential Complementarity of Mediation and Consultation within a Contingency Model of Third Party Intervention,” Journal of Peace Research, vol. 28, no. 1, 1991.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

265

Gertzel, Cherry. “Uganda after Amin: The Continuing Search for Leadership and Control,” African Affairs, vol. 79, no. 317, 1980, pp. 461–90. Gulliver, P. H. “On Mediators,” in Ian Hamnett, ed., Social Anthropology and Law (London: Academic Press, 1977), pp. 15–52. ——. “Anthropological Contributions to the Study of Negotiations,” Negotiation Journal, vol. 4, no. 3, July 1988, pp. 247–255. ——. Disputes and Negotiations: A Cross-Cultural Perspective (London: Academic Press, 1979). International Crisis Group. God, Oil, and Country: Changing Logic of War in Sudan (Washington, D.C.: International Crisis Group, 2002). ——. Burundi: One Hundred Days to Put the Peace Process on Track (Washington, D.C.: ICG Africa Report No. 33, August 14, 2001). ——. The Mandela Effect: Prospects for Peace in Burundi (Washington, D.C.: ICG Africa Report no. 13, April 18, 2000). ——. Burundi’s Peace Process: The Road From Arusha (Washington, D.C.: IGC Africa Report, July 20, 1998). Groom, A. J. and K. Webb. “Injustice, Empowerment, and Facilitation in Conict,” International Interaction, vol. 13, no. 3, 1987. Hart, Liddell B. H. Strategy: The Indirect Approach, Revised edition, (London: Faber and Faber Limited, 1967). Himes, J. S. Conict and Conict Management (Athens, GA: University of Georgia Press, 1980). Hilsum, Lindsey. “Rwanda: Settling Scores,” Africa Report, vol. 39, no. 2, May–June 1994. Hoskins, Eric and Samantha Hunt. The Humanitarian Impacts of Economic Sanctions on Burundi (Providence: The Thomas J. Watson Institute for International Studies, Occasional Paper No. 29, 1997). Kelly, George and Linda Miller. Internal War and International Systems: Perspectives on Method (Harvard: Occasional papers in International Affairs, No. 21, August 1969). Jabri, Vivien and Stephen Chan. “Introduction: Mediation Theory and Application,” in Chan and Jabri, eds., Mediation in Southern Africa (London: St. Martin’s Press 1995). Jefremonas, Villia. “Treacherous Waters: The Politics of History and the Politics of Genocide in Rwanda and Burundi,” Africa, vol. 70, no. 2, 2000, pp. 298–308. Jensen, Lloyd. “Issue Flexibility in Negotiating Internal War,” The Annals, vol. 542, November 1995. Johnston, Harry and Ted Dagne. “The Crisis in Sudan: The North-South Conict,” Mediterranean Quarterly, vol. 7, no. 3, Spring 1996. Jones, Bruce D. Peacemaking in Rwanda: The Dynamics of Failure (Boulder: Lynne Rienner, 2001). ——. “ ‘Intervention without Borders’: Humanitarian Intervention in Rwanda, 1990–94,” Millennium: Journal of International Studies, vol. 24, no. 2, 1995, pp. 225–49. Kadende-Kaiser, Rose and Paul J. Kaiser. “Modern Folklore, Identity, and Political Change in Burundi,” African Studies Review, vol. 40, no. 3, December 1997, pp. 37–38. Kamukama, David. Rwanda Conict: Its Roots and Regional Implications (Kampala: Fountain Publishers, 1993). Khadiagala, Gilbert M. “Uganda’s Domestic and Regional Security Since the 1970s,” Journal of Modern African Studies, vol. 31, no. 2, 1993, pp. 231–56. Kleiboer, Marieke. The Multiple Realities of International Mediation (Boulder: Lynne Rienner, 1998).

266

BIBLIOGRAPHY

——. “Understanding Success and Failure of International Mediation,” Journal of Conict Resolution, vol. 10, no. 2, June 1996. Kressel, Kenneth and Dean Pruitt. “Themes in the Mediation of Social Conict,” Journal of Social Issues, vol. 41, no. 2, 1985, pp. 179–98. Kriesberg, Louis. “Coordinating Intermediary Peace Efforts,” Negotiation Journal, vol. 12, no. 3, October 1996, pp. 341–52. ——. “Formal and Quasi-Mediators in International Disputes: An Exploratory Analysis,” Journal of Peace Research, vol. 28, 1991, pp. 19–27. Kok, Peter. “Sudan: Between Restructuring and Deconstruction of State Systems,” Review of African Political Economy, no. 70, 1996, pp. 558–560. Kuperman, Alan J. “The Other Lesson of Rwanda: Mediators Sometimes do More Harm than Good,” SAIS Review, vol. 16, no. 1, 1996, pp. 221–240. Laely, Thomas. “Peasants, Local Communities, and Central Power in Burundi,” Journal of Modern African Studies, vol. 35, no. 4, 1997, pp. 695–716. Lake, David A. and Donald Rothchild. Ethnic Fears and Global Engagement: The International Spread and Management of Ethnic Conict (San Diego: University of California, Institute of Global Conict and Cooperation Policy Paper No. 20, January 1996). Lane, James. “The Emergence and Institutionalization of Third Party Roles in Conict,” in Dennis J. D. Sandole and Ingrid Sandole-Starotse, eds., Conict Management and Problem Solving: Interpersonal and International Applications (New York: New York University Press, 1987). Lawson, Stephanie. “The Politics of Ethnonationalist Conict and the State,” in Kumar Rupesinghe, ed., Internal Conict and Governance (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1992), pp. 116–42. Lederach, John Paul. “Training on Culture: Four Approaches,” Conciliation Quarterly, vol. 9, no. 6, 1990, 11–13. Lieberfeld, Daniel. “Nelson Mandela: Partisan and Peacemaker,” Negotiation Journal, vol. 19, no. 3, July 2003, pp. 229–50. Lemarchand, Rene. Burundi: Ethnocide as Discourse and Practice (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994). ——. Rwanda and Burundi (London: Pall Mall, 1970). ——. “Genocide in the Great Lakes: Which Genocide? Whose Genocide?” African Studies Review, vol. 41, no. 1, April 1998. ——. “Consociationalism and Power Sharing in Africa: Rwanda, Burundi, and the Democratic Republic of the Congo,” African Affairs, vol. 106, 2006, pp. 10–11. ——. “Burundi At a Crossroads,” in Gilbert M. Khadiagala, ed., Security Dynamics in Africa’s Great Lakes Region (Boulder: Lynne Rienner Publishers, 2006). Lesch, Ann Mosley. “Negotiations in Sudan,” in David Smock and Chester Crocker, eds., Making War and Waging Peace: Foreign Intervention in Africa (Washington, D.C.: US Institute of Peace, 1993), pp. 107–37. ——. The Sudan: Contested National Identities (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1998). Lund, Michael and others. “Learning from Burundi’s Failed Democratic Transition, 1993–1996: Did the International Initiatives Match the Problem?” in Barnett R. Rubin, ed., Cases and Strategies for Preventive Action (New York: Council on Foreign Relations, 1998), pp. 63–65. Mamdani, Mahmood. Politics and Class Formation in Uganda (London: Heinemann, 1976). ——. NRA/NRM: Two Years in Power (Kampala: Progressive Publishing House, 1988).

BIBLIOGRAPHY

267

Maundi, Mohammed O., I. William Zartman, Gilbert Khadiagala, and Kwaku Nuamah. Getting In: Mediator’s Entry Into the Settlement of African Conicts (Washington, D.C.: The United States Institute of Peace, 2006). Mayotte, Judy. “Civil war in the Sudan: The Paradox of Human Rights and National Sovereignty,” Journal of International Affairs, vol. 47, no. 2, Winter 1994, pp. 497–524. Mazrui, Ali. “Africa: In Search of Self-Pacication,” African Affairs, vol. 93, no. 2, 1993, pp. 39–42. McEwen, Craig A. and Thomas Milburn. “In Theory: Explaining a Paradox of Mediation,” Negotiation Journal, vol. 9, no. 1, January 1993. McMullen, Christopher J. Mediation of the West New Guinea Dispute, 1962: A Case Study, (Washington D.C.: George Washington University, Institute for the Study of Diplomacy, 1981). Merry, Sally Engle. “Mediation in Non-Industrial Societies,” in Kenneth Kressel and Dean Pruitt, eds., Mediation Research: The Process and Effectiveness of Third Party Intervention (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1985). Mitchell, Christopher R. “External Peacemaking Initiatives and Intra-national Conict,” in Manus Midlarsky, ed., The Internationalization of Communal Conict (London: Routledge, 1993), pp. 274–96. ——. “The Motives of Mediation,” in Mitchell and Keith Webb, eds., New Approaches to International Mediation (New York: Greenwood Press, 1988). ——. “Civil Strife and the Involvement of External Parties,” International Studies Quarterly, vol. 14, no. 2, June 1970, pp. 166–195. ——. “The Process and Stages of Mediation: Two Sudanese Cases,” in David Smock and Chester Crocker, Making War and Waging Peace: Foreign Intervention in Africa, pp. 139–59. Modelski, George. “International Settlement of Internal War,” in James Rosenau, ed., International Aspects of Civil Strife (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1964). Moore, Christopher. The Mediation Process: Practical Strategies for Resolving Conict (London: Jossey-Bass Publishers, 1986). Museveni, Yoweri Kaguta. What is Africa’s Problem?: Speeches and Writings by Yoweri Kaguta Museveni (Kampala, NRM Publications, 1992). ——. Sowing The Mustard Seed: The Struggle for Democracy in Uganda (London: Macmillan, 1997). Phares Mutibwa. Uganda Since Independence (Trenton, NJ: Africa World Press, 1992). Mwagiru, Makumi. “The International Management of Internal Conict in Africa: The Uganda Mediation, 1985,” Doctoral dissertation, Rutherford College, University of Kent at Canterbury, October 1994, pp. 275–81. Ndikumana, Leonce. “Institutional Failure and Ethnic Conicts in Burundi,” African Studies Review, vol. 41, no. 1, April 1998, pp. 35–36. Newbury, David. “Returning Refugees: Four Historical Patterns of ‘Coming Home’ to Rwanda,” Comparative Studies in Society and History, vol. 47, no. 2, 2005, pp. 252–85. Nyaba, P. A. The Politics of Liberation in South Sudan: An Insider’s View (Kampala: Fountain Publishers, 1997). Obasanjo, Olusegun. “Preface,” in I. William Zartman and Francis Deng, eds., Conict Resolution in Africa (Washington, D.C.: The Brookings Institution, 1991). Oliver, Johanna. “The Esquipulas Process: A Central American Paradigm for Resolving Regional Conict,” Ethnic Studies Report, vol. 16, no. 2, July 1999, pp. 150–191. Olson, Wm J. “Preface: Small Wars Reconsidered,” The Annals, vol. 541, September 1995, p. 12.

268

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Omara-Otunnu, Amii. Politics and the Military in Uganda (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1989 Ould-Abdallah, Ahmedou. Burundi on the Brink: 1993–1995 (Washington, D.C.: US Institute of Peace, Perspectives Series, 2000). Pape, Robert A. “Why International Sanctions Do Not Work,” International Security, vol. 22, no. 2, 1997. Pearson, Frederic S. “Dimensions of Conict Resolution in Ethno-political Disputes,” Journal of Peace Research, vol. 38, no. 3, 2001, pp. 275–87. Porter, Jack Nusan and Ruth Taplin. Conict and Conict Resolution: A Sociological Introduction (Lanham: University Press of America, 1987). Prendergast, John. “Senator Danforth’s Sudan Challenge: Building a Bridge to Peace,” CSIS Africa Notes, no. 5, January 2002. Princen, Thomas. Intermediaries in International Conicts (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1992). Pruitt, Dean G. “The Tactics of Third-Party Intervention,” Orbis, vol. 44, no. 2, Spring 2000, pp. 245–54. ——. “Trends in the Scientic Study of Negotiation and Mediation,” Negotiation Journal, vol. 2, no. 3, July 1986, pp. 237–44. Prunier, Gerard. The Rwanda Crisis: History of Genocide, 1959–1994 (Kampala: Fountain Publishers, 1996). Raiffa, Howard. “Mediation of Conicts,” American Behavioral Scientist, vol. 27, no. 2, 1983. Reyntjens, Filip. “The Proof of the Pudding is in the Eating: The June 1993 Elections in Burundi,” Journal of Modern African Studies, vol. 31, no. 4, 1993, pp. 563–83. ——. “Review of An African Peace Process: Mandela, South Africa, and Burundi,” Journal of Modern African Studies, vol. 44, no. 3, 2006, p. 481. Riggs, Fred W. “Ethnonational Rebellions and Viable Constitutionalism,” International Political Science Review, vol. 16, no. 4, 1995, pp. 375–404. Rogier, Emeric. No More Hills Ahead? The Sudan Tortuous Ascent to the Heights of Peace (The Hague: Netherlands Institution of International Relations, Clingendael Security Paper No. 1, August 2005). Ross, Marc Howard. The Culture of Conict: Interpretations and Interests in Comparative Perspective (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1993). Rouhana, Nadim. “Unofcial Third-Party Intervention in International Conict: Between Legitimacy and Disarray,” Negotiation Journal, vol. 11, no. 3, July 1995, pp. 255–70. Rubin, Jeffrey. Intermediaries and Third Party Intervention (New York: Praeger, 1982). ——. Dynamics of Third Party Intervention: Kissinger in the Middle East (New York: Praeger, 1981). Saravanmutto, Neil. “What Role Can the Commonwealth Play in Conict Resolution?” The Round Table, no. 334, April 1995, pp. 145–58. Schrire, Robert and Warren Weinstein. Political Conict and Ethnic Strategies: A Case Study of Burundi (Syracuse: Maxwell School of Citizenship and Public Affairs, 1976). Sei, Tabitha. “The Intergovernmental Authority (IGAD) and the Sudanese Peace Process,” in Korwa Adar and others, eds., Sudan Peace Process: Challenges and Future Prospects (Pretoria: Africa Institute, 2004), pp. 15–36. Sheppard, B. H. “Third Party Conict Intervention: A Procedural Framework,” Research in Organizational Behavior, vol. 6, 1984, pp. 141–90.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

269

Smith, James D. “Mediator Impartiality: Banishing the Chimera,” Journal of Peace Research, vol. 31, no. 4, 1994, pp. 445–50. Spencer, Dayle E. and William J. Spencer. “Closing the Mediation Gap: The Ethiopia/Eritrea Experience,” Security Dialogue, vol. 23, no. 3, September 1992, pp. 93–94. Spencer, Dayle E. and Honggang Yang. “Lessons from the Field of Intra-National Conict Resolution,” Notre Dame Law Review, vol. 67, no. 5, 1992, pp. 1495–1523. Stedman, Stephen. “Negotiation and Mediation in Internal Conict,” in Michael E. Brown, ed., The International Dimensions of Internal Conict (Cambridge: MIT Press, 1996). Stein, Janice. “War Termination and Conict Reduction, How Wars Should End,” Jerusalem Journal of International Relations, vol. 1, no. 1, Fall 1995, pp. 1–27. Stephens, John B. “Acceptance of Mediation Initiatives: A Preliminary Framework,” in Christopher R. Mitchell and Keith Webb, eds., New Approaches to International Mediation (New York: Greenwood Press, 1988), pp. 52–74. Susskind, Lawrence and Jeffrey Rubin. “Negotiation: Behavioral Perspectives.” American Behavioral Scientist, vol. 27, no. 2, November–December 1983. Thibaut, J. W. and L. Walker. Procedural Justice: A psychological Analysis (Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum, 1975). de Tocqueville, Alexis. The Old Regime and the French Revolution (New York: Doubleday, 1995). Touval, Saadia. “The Context of Mediation,” Negotiation Journal, vol. 1, no. 3, October 1985, pp. 373–78. Touval, Saadia and I. William Zartman. “International Mediation: Conict Resolution and Power Politics,” Journal of Social Issues, vol. 41, no. 2, 1985, pp. 7–20. Umbricht, Victor. Multilateral Mediation: Practical Experiences and Lessons (Martinus Nijhoff, 1987) p. 227. United Nations, The United Nations and Rwanda, 1993–1996 (New York: The United Nations, 1997), p. 24. United Nations Department of Humanitarian Affairs, DHA Report on Regional Sanctions Against Burundi (New York: United Nations, December 1997). Wai, Dunstan M. The African-Arab Conict in the Sudan (New York: Africana Publishing House, 1981). Waihenya, Waithaka. The Mediator: General Lazaro Sumbeiywo and the Southern Sudan Peace Process (Nairobi: Kenway Publications, 2006). Walker, Jenonne. “International Mediation of Ethnic Conicts,” in Michael E. Brown, ed., Ethnic Conict and International Security (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1993), pp. 165–180. Wani, Ibrahim J. “Humanitarian Intervention and the Tanzania-Uganda War,” Horn of Africa, vol. 3, no. 2, 1989, pp. 18–27. Waterman, Harvey. “Political Order and the ‘Settlement’ of Civil Wars,” in Roy Licklider, ed., How Civil Wars End (New York: New York University Press, 1996). Watkins, Michael and Kim Winters. “In Theory: Interveners with Interests and Power,” Negotiation Journal, vol. 13, no. 2, April 1997, pp. 119–142. Watson, Catherine. Exile from Rwanda: Background to an Invasion (New York: U.S. Committee for Refugees, 1991). ——. “Burundi: Freedom from Fear,” Africa Report, vol. 32, no. 3, September–October, 1993, pp. 58–61.

270

BIBLIOGRAPHY

——. “Interview: President Melchior Ndadaye,” Africa Report, vol. 32, no. 3, September– October, 1993. Webb, Keith and others. “The Yugoslavian Conict, European Mediation, and the Contingency Model: A Critical Perspective,” in Jacob Bercovitch, ed., Resolving International Conicts: Theory and Practice of Mediation, pp. 171–89. Wehr, Paul. Conict Regulation (Boulder: Westview, 1979), pp. 37–38. Wehr, Paul and John Paul Lederach. “Mediating Conict in Central America,” Journal of Peace Research, vol. 28, no. 1, 1991, p. 87. Weissman, Stephen R. “Preventing Genocide in Burundi: Lessons from International Diplomacy,” in United States Institute of Peace, Peaceworks No. 22 (Washington, D.C.: United States Institute of Peace, 1998). Wippman, David. ed., International Law and Ethnic Conict (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1999. Woodward, Peter. “Somalia and Sudan: A Tale of Two Peace Processes,” Round Table, no. 93, 2004, pp. 469–481. Wöndu, Steven and Ann Mosley Lesch. Battle for Peace in Sudan: An Analysis of the Abuja Conferences, 1992–1993 (Washington, D.C.: University Press of America, 2000). Young, John. “John Garang’s Legacy to the Peace Process, the SPLM/A and the South,” Review of African Political Economy, vol. 32, no. 106, 2005, pp. 535–48. ——. “Sudan: A Flawed Peace Process Leading to a Flawed Peace,” Review of African Political Economy, vol. 32, no. 103, 2005, pp. 99–113. Young, Oran A. The Intermediaries: Third Parties in International Crisis (Princeton: Princeton University, 1967). Zacarias, Agostinho. “Time to Stop a Genocide Culture,” World Today, vol. 52, November 1996. Zartman, I. William. “In Search of Common Elements in the Analysis of the Negotiation Process,” in Mautner-Markhof, ed., Processes of International Negotiations, pp. 241–242, 1989. ——. “Prenegotiations: Phases and Functions,” in Janice G. Stein, ed., Getting to the Table: The Processes of International Prenegotiation (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1989) pp. 1–17. ——. “Mediation by Regional Organizations: The OAU in Chad and Congo,” in Jacob Bercovitch, ed., Studies in International Mediation: Essays in Honor of Jeffrey Z. Rubin (New York: Palgrave-Macmillan, 2002), pp. 80–92. ——. “Dynamics and Constraints in Negotiations in Internal Conicts,” in Zartman, ed., The Elusive Peace: Negotiating an End to Civil Wars (Washington, D.C.: 1995), pp. 3–27.

Index Abuja Negotiations 220 n. 17 Addis Ababa Agreement 188, 245 African Union (AU) 2 African Elder Statesmen 11, 107, 116, 147 African solutions 2, 11, 57, 166, 260 Afwerki, Isaias 194–95, 202–203, 214, 224 n. 75, 235 Albright, Madeline 118, 152 nn. 47–48, 199, 208, 217, 226 n. 103, 228 nn. 141–42, 145 Amin, Idi 20–21, 23, 29–32, 37, 42, 49 nn. 4, 15, 51 n. 46 AMIB. See Burundi, African Union Mission in Burundi Annan, Ko 160 n. 144, 211 Arap Moi, Daniel 19, 194 Arusha Peace Accord, Rwanda (1993) 57, 90–94, 105 nn. 141–42, 144–46, 166, 173 Arusha Peace Accord, Burundi (2000) 166, 172–173 Babangida, Ibrahim 189–91, 193 Bashir, Omar 189–94, 198–99, 201–203, 205–208, 210, 212, 214–15, 217, 221 nn. 25, 39, 222 nn. 48, 56, 223 nn. 61, 65, 224 nn. 72–74, 226 nn. 99, 109, 227 n. 128, 228 n. 139, 232, 234–38, 240, 242–44, 248 nn. 24–25, 31, 249 n. 34, 250 nn. 49, 51 Belgium 59, 69, 86, 97 n. 6, 100 n. 48 Mediation in Rwanda’s conict 13 Bizimungu, Pasteur 62, 65, 72, 80 Bongo, Omar. Mediation in Burundi 136, 175–76, 184 n. 52, 255 Boutros-Ghali, Boutros 92, 112 Burundi Arusha Peace Agreement 172, 179 Background to the conict 108 Convention of Government 113, 115, 119, 122, 124 Forces for the Defense of Democracy 114, 138–40, 144–46, 154 n. 64, 168, 171, 175–78, 183 n. 50, 184 n. 52 Mediation Initiatives ix National Council for the Defense of Democracy 114–16, 118–20, 122,

124–25, 128–33, 137–40, 142, 144–46, 153 n. 51, 155 n. 81, 158 n. 133, 160 n. 147, 168, 171, 175–78, 183 n. 50 National Liberation Front 109, 111–13, 115, 118–20, 125, 131, 138–39, 146, 151 n. 32, 152 nn. 35, 49, 153 n. 55, 155 n. 80, 160 n. 147, 161 nn. 159–60, 171, 173–74, 178, 183 n. 44 National Security Council 113 Party for the Liberation of the Hutu People 160 n. 147 Party of National Union and Progress 160 n. 147 Bush administration In Sudan 237, 239 Buyoya, Pierre 107–109, 123–39, 141–42, 144–48, 149 nn. 2, 8, 154 nn. 68–70, 155 nn. 75, 79, 83, 156 nn. 92, 95, 99, 158 n. 131, 159 nn. 139, 143, 162 nn. 162, 169, 173, 166, 168–75, 177, 181 n. 16, 182 n. 28, 183 nn. 43–44, 46, 48, 184 n. 60 Carter, Jimmy, 116, 204–205 Civil wars (Communal Conicts) Causes 2–4 Complexities of Mediation 11 Clinton administration In Burundi 118–119 In Sudan 128, 169, 172 CNDD. See Burundi, National Council for the Defense of Democracy Community of Sant’Egidio 131, 142 Dar es Salaam Declaration On the Rwandan Refugees Problem 99 n. 28 On Rwanda 99 n. 28 Declaration of Principles (DOP), See Sudan Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) ix, 2, 11, 129, 142, 185 n. 69, 255, 257–58, 260 Democratic Unionist Party (DUP), See Sudan

272

INDEX

Egypt Conicts with IGAD states 204, 207, 210, 212, 216, 218, 230, 35 Egyptian-Libyan Initiative 216–17, 233, 236 Elder Statesmen Role in Mediation 148 Eritrea 133, 188, 194–95, 201–204, 206, 208–209, 212–15, 235, 259 Ethiopia 174, 188–90, 194–95, 198, 202, 204, 206, 208–209, 212–14, 235–36, 259 FDD. See Burundi, Forces for the Defense of Democracy FRODEBU, See Burundi Democratic Front Gaddaf, Muamar 255 Garang, John 189–92, 195–97, 202–204, 206, 208–10, 213, 216–17, 220 nn. 18, 20, 22, 221 nn. 25, 28, 222 nn. 41, 46, 53, 223 n. 63, 224 n. 78, 225 nn. 85, 95, 227 n. 127, 228 n. 139, 229, 232–33, 237, 240, 242–44, 247 n. 10, 248 nn. 13–14, 25, 251 n. 74 Habyarimana, Juvenal 58–69, 71, 73–86, 88–93, 95, 97 nn. 6, 8, 10, 98 nn. 11, 21, 99 nn. 25–26, 32, 35, 37, 100 n. 42, 101 nn. 70–71, 102 nn. 79, 83, 86–87, 103 n. 103, 105 n. 135, 106 nn. 148, 153, 155, 112 IGAD Partner’s Forum (IPF) see also Friends of IGAD 188, 197, 199, 204, 207, 210–12, 214, 218, 229–31, 233–37, 239–40, 246, 260 Intergovernmental Authority on Development (IGAD) 1, 13, 187–88, 197, 201–202, 204–19, 219 n. 2, 222 nn. 40, 51–52, 226 n. 112, 114, 228 n. 139, 229–40, 242–43, 245–47, 247 nn. 1, 4–5, 8, 248 nn. 15–17, 19, 21, 24, 27, 249 n. 34, 41, 47, 250 nn. 50, 57–58, 251 n. 63, 256–60, 262 n. 6 Intergovernmental Authority on Drought and Desertication (IGADD) 187–88, 194–202, 205, 221 nn. 36–37, 222 nn. 44, 57, 59, 223 n. 60, 63, 65, 68, 71, 224 n. 73, 225 nn. 83, 86, 89 Islam, See also Sharia Laws 189, 192, 200, 205, 211, 213, 223 n. 65, 224 n. 74 Kabila, Laurent-Desire 129, 142 Kagame, Paul 59, 156 n. 101

Kanyarwenge, Alexis 91, 103 n. 104 Lam, Achol 190 Libya Mediation in Sudan

64, 74, 76, 83, 88,

216–217, 233, 236

Machar, Riek 190–91, 196–97, 202, 205 Mandela, Nelson 1, 9, 11, 13, 16 n. 36, 107, 136, 142, 162 n. 175, 165–75, 177–80, 180 nn. 2–5, 7, 181 nn. 9–10, 12–19, 22, 182 nn. 27–30, 33, 35–36, 183 nn. 37–38, 40, 44, 184 nn. 52, 68, 210, 256–58, 260 Masire, Ketumile 11, 166, 257 Mazimpaka, Patrick 67, 71, 86 Mbeki, Thabo 175, 177 Mboya 13, 231, 234, 256 MDR. See Rwanda, Mouvement Democratique Republicain, Meddlers 1–2, 6, 10, 12, 48, 58, 255, 261 Mediation Leverage 4–5 Power 5 Cultural approaches 149 n. 3, 254 Power approaches 5–6, 254 Mediators ix, 1–13, 14 nn. 9–10, 15 n. 20, 16 n. 37, 19–20, 25, 33–34, 36, 44–48, 57–58, 63, 69–70, 72, 74, 79, 83–90, 94–96, 107–108, 110, 117, 122–23, 131, 134–36, 139, 140, 144, 147–48, 163 n. 176, 166, 170, 175–76, 180, 188, 190–93, 198–201, 204–207, 211–13, 215, 218, 221 n. 27, 229–35, 237–38, 240–44, 246, 253–61 Mengistu, Haile Mariam 190, 194 Mkapa, Benjamin 121, 124, 135, 139, 165, 258 Mobutu, Sese Seko 61–65, 68, 70, 96, 97 n. 6, 98 n. 22, 100 n. 49, 116, 119, 129–30, 152 n. 39 Mpungwe, Ami 70–71, 73–75, 82, 84–85, 88, 100 n. 56, 105 n. 134, 256 MRND. See Rwanda, Mouvement Revolutionnaire National pour le Developpement Mubarak, Hosni 202, 227 n. 125 Museveni, Yoweri 21–27, 29–31, 33–34, 36–47, 48 n. 3, 49 nn. 6–7, 9, 15, 50 nn. 17, 29, 31, 51 n. 42, 52 nn. 80–82, 53 nn. 85–88, 90, 93, 100, 54 nn. 104, 106–107, 113, 120, 59–61, 73, 78–79, 81, 84, 93, 97 nn. 4–5, 10, 98 nn. 13, 15,

INDEX

102 n. 88, 104 n. 121, 106 nn. 148, 153, 116, 142, 156 n. 92, 167, 191, 194–95, 197, 199, 201, 220 n. 18, 224 n. 76, 226 n. 103, 246 National Convention on Government, See Burundi National Islamic Front (NIF), See Sudan. NDA. See, Sudan, National Democratic Alliance Ndadaye, Melchior 93, 109–11, 149 n. 6 Neutral Military Observation Group (NMOG) 64, 73, 83, 85–87, 91–92 Ngulinzira, Boniface 67–68, 71–72, 76, 79–80, 85, 89, 100 nn. 44, 47, 101 n. 62 Niasse, Mustapha 257 Nigeria Mediation in Sudan conict ix, 257 Nongovernmental Organizations 138 NRM/A. See Uganda, National Resistance Movement/Army Nsengiyaremye, Dismas 66–67, 76–77, 82–83, 87–88, 102 nn. 86–87, 104 n. 120 Ntibantunganya, Sylvestre 113–15, 121–22, 124, 153 n. 50, 154 n. 62, 165, 167 Nyerere, Julius ix, 1, 9, 11, 13, 23–24, 30, 36, 49 n. 15, 51 nn. 45–46, 107–108, 116–49, 152 n. 45, 153 nn. 55, 57, 59, 61, 154 n. 66, 155 nn. 76, 78, 83, 157 n. 110, 158 n. 131, 159 n. 134, 160 nn. 144–45, 161 nn. 152–53, 156, 161, 162 nn. 162, 164, 166–67, 172–74, 165–68, 170, 179–80, 180 nn. 3–4, 181 nn. 10, 19, 256–57, 260 Obote, Milton 21, 31–32, 42, 49 n. 5 Organization of African Unity (OAU) 2, 24, 50 n. 21, 57, 59–61, 64, 68–69, 73–74, 85–86, 89, 91, 97 nn. 1, 5, 10, 101 n. 67, 104 n. 110, 110–12, 115–17, 148, 150 nn. 14–16, 152 n. 37, 153 n. 61, 157 n. 107, 158 n. 118, 160 n. 145, 166, 172, 189–90, 193, 201, 211, 213, 221 n. 36, 224 nn. 76–77 Ould-Abdalla, Ahmedou 112, 116, 150 nn. 17–19, 151 nn. 25–26, 158 n. 127, 257 PCD. See Rwanda, Parti Chretien Democratique PL. See Rwanda Parti Liberal Power In mediation 47

273 Organizational 6–11, 20, 46, 69, 71, 179, 246, 254–56 As a resource 10, 258 Pretoria Comprehensive Peace Agreement 174–75, 177–78 PSD. See Rwanda, Parti Socialiste Democratique Rebels search for legitimacy 66 Rwanda Cease-re agreements 64–65, 72–73, 79–80, 82, 96, 140 Coalition for the Defense of the Republic 66 Interahamwe 77, 93, 113 Internal Opposition 235 Mouvement Democratique Republicain 66–67, 71, 75, 78–79, 88, 90 Mouvement Revolutionnaire National pour le Developpement 66, 71, 78–82, 85, 88, 93, 102 nn. 82, 85, 89, 103 nn. 97, 99, 104 n. 119 Origin of civil conict 98 n. 15 Parti Democrate Chretien 66, 75, 78–79 Parti Liberal 66, 75, 78–79, 160 n. 147 Rwanda Patriotic Front (RPF) 58–69, 71–93, 95–96, 97 n. 8, 98 nn. 13, 22, 24, 99 nn. 30–31, 100 nn. 41–42, 49, 101 nn. 63, 66, 71–73, 102 nn. 77, 79, 102 n. 91, 103 n. 96, 103 nn. 102–103, 103 nn. 104–105, 107–108, 104 n. 109–11, 113, 105 nn. 124–25, 133, 135, 140, 106 n. 148 Salim, Salim Ahmed 57, 91, 111, 115, 152 n. 38, 158 n. 118, 213, 257 Sant’Egidio. See Community of Sant’Egidio Secularism 190–91, 193, 199, 201, 207, 211, 213, 224 n. 74, 232, 234, 237–38 Self-determination 191, 196–201, 206–207, 211–12, 223 n. 68, 227 n. 117, 232–34, 236–38, 249 n. 45 Shari’a 200, 238, 241 South Africa Mediation in Burundi 258 Involvement in the Great Lakes Region 180, 258–59 Southern Sudan Independence Movement/ Army (SSIM/A) 203, 205 Sudan Abuja Negotiations 220 n. 17

274

INDEX

Declaration of Principles 188, 198–201, 205–207, 212, 216, 218, 231, 240, 243, 245 Democratic Unionist Party 203, 210 Machakos Agreements 13, 229, 240–41 Naivasha Agreement 13, 189, 194, 196, 203, 234 National Democratic Alliance 189, 203, 206–10, 213, 215–17, 232, 234–35, 237–38 National Islamic Front 189 Origin of civil conict 13 Umma Party 203, 209, 215, 226 n. 107 Sudan People’s Liberation Movement/Army (SPLM/A) 189–98, 201, 203–208, 211–13, 215–18, 219 n. 9, 220 nn. 18, 24, 221 nn. 25, 28, 222 nn. 42–43, 46–47, 54, 225 n. 95, 226 n. 98, 227 n. 117, 228 n. 139, 232–34, 237–39, 241–44, 248 nn. 13, 15, 250 nn. 52, 57, 62, 251 nn. 65, 67, 74 Sumbeiywo, Lt. General 13, 229–30, 239–41, 243, 245–47, 249 nn. 40, 45, 51, 256, 258 Taha, Mohammed Uthman 207, 243–44 Tanzania Mediation in Rwanda conict 13 Role in Burundi conict 134 Role in the Great Lakes region 257 Tito, Okello 21, 26–27, 38, 52 n. 71, 53 n. 99, 54 n. 106 Uganda’s National Resistance Movement/Army (NRM/A) 21–33, 35, 37–45, 47, 49

nn. 6, 9, 50 n. 32, 51 nn. 51–54, 52 n. 73, 53 nn. 89, 90–92, 54 nn. 105, 119, 55 n. 123–24, 127, 59, 69, 97 n. 4 Origin of civil conict 20–21 Uganda National Liberation Army (UNLA) 21, 32, 38, 42, 51 n. 47, 52 n. 75, 55 n. 125 United Nations (UN) 68–69, 84–86, 89, 91–93, 96, 104 n. 121, 106 nn. 148, 109–10, 112–13, 117–18, 125–27, 129–30, 150, 159 n. 137, 176–78, 192, 197, 199, 210, 214, 245 United Nations Assistance Mission in Rwanda (UNAMIR) 92–93 United Nations High Commission for Refugees (UNHCR) 58, 64, 116, 152 n. 36 United Nations Observer Mission to Uganda-Rwanda (UNOMUR) 91–92 United States. See also specic ofcials and presidential administrations 68, 118, 128, 160 n. 144, 188, 190, 192, 196, 204, 212, 216–17, 221 n. 28, 224 n. 76, 240 Wolpe, Howard

120, 141, 160 n. 144

Zaire Assistance to Habyarimana 59, 61 Mobutu’s mediation 62 Zartman, I. William x, 6, 13 nn. 2, 4, 14 n. 10, 15 nn. 20, 22, 16 n. 36, 22, 49 nn. 10–11, 50 n. 21, 254, 262 n. 4 Zuma, Jacob 166, 175–80, 184 n. 51, 256–57

International Negotiations Series International Negotiation Series is a peer-reviewed book series that examines negotiation from many perspectives, explores its theoretical foundations, and promotes its practical application. The Series includes both studies of conference diplomacy as well as those where the parties may interact at a distance. The Series also considers studies of third-party processes (mediation, facilitation, good o icers) that occur in conjunction with negotiation. Negotiating parties may include national, sub-national, trans-national, and non-governmental organizations. The editors would especially be interested in receiving comparative studies where at least two cases are included in the analysis. Although authored empirical studies are preferred, the editors will also consider theoretical or synthetic (as broad reviews of the literature) treatments of the subject as well as edited volumes. ISSN 1871-3319

1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6.

Zartman, I.W. (Ed.): Negotiating with Terrorists. 2006. ISBN 978-90-04-14857-4 Carnevale, P. and C.K.W. de Dreu (Eds): Methods of Negotiation Research. 2006. ISBN 978-90-04-14858-1 Mezran, K.: Negotiation and Construction of National Identities. 2007. ISBN 978-90-04-15808-5 Khadiagala, G.M.: Meddlers or Mediators? African Interveners in Civil Conicts in Eastern Africa. 2007. ISBN 978-90-04-16331-7 Wagner, L.M.: Problem-Solving and Bargaining in International Negotiations. 2008. ISBN 978-90-04-16222-8 Höglund, K.: Peace Negotiations in the Shadow of Violence. 2008. ISBN 978-90-04-15837-5