Peripheral Vision: Views from the Borderlands sheds light on how political, security and socio-economic developments affect the people living in contested borderlands and, conversely, how border dynamics shape change and transition at the national level.
In this issue we cover:
– Tunisia’s Border Regions: Between Security and Social Unrest
– Less Violence, More Tensions: Trends of Identity-Based Conflict in Subnational and Border Areas Across Asia
– Trade, Taxes and Tensions in the Somali Borderlands
Produced by The Asia Foundation, Malcolm H. Kerr Carnegie Middle East Center, the Rift Valley Institute, and their local partners—it draws on recent research and analysis produced by the project to interpret current events from the perspective of border regions. PERIPHERAL VISION is published twice a year, as a timely update of dynamics on the ground.
The Taliban’s takeover of Afghanistan is having a multidirectional impact on the mobility of Afghans. While radical shifts in the political and economic life of the country are driving an outflux of Afghans, the sudden drop in violent incidents may enable new patterns of connectivity and mobility inside the country. Geographic mobility can be categorised as cross-border (interstate), cross-country (intrastate), and local forms of human movement, with various levels of permanence, in pursuit of different goals. It is still difficult to predict in the long term what the Taliban’s rise to power will mean for internal and external mobility. However, it is certain that while international mobility remains a major challenge, domestic movement has changed in new ways as the conflict environment evolves.
Many Afghans who felt that Taliban control posed a great risk to their personal safety have tried to flee the country out of fear of reprisal. Many more wish to leave because they do not think they have a place in the country in the current context. The United States alone airlifted more than a hundred thousand vulnerable Afghans out of the country. At the same time, the flow of foreign funds into the country has virtually stopped, precipitating a catastrophic humanitarian crisis and a surge in economic emigration. The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees predicted in late August that up to one million Afghans may flee their homeland by the end of 2021.
The migration of Afghans across land borders has been slow so far because governments of neighbouring Pakistan, Iran, and Turkey, as well as countries in Europe, have stepped up border restrictions. While Pakistan’s political leadership at times has tried to downplay the risk of refugee exodus, countering the narrative that most Afghans wish not to live under Taliban rule, Pakistani leaders have also said that “Pakistan is in no condition right now to accept any more refugees”. Pakistani local government officials have stated that even if an emergency unfolds, new refugee camps should be set up on the Afghan side of the border. The country already hosts 1.5 million Afghan refugees, some of whom have been living there for more than 30 years. Iran, home to the second-largest Afghan refugee population after Pakistan, is also stepping up border measures in the face of increasing flows of Afghans seeking security and livelihoods. European countries, often the ultimate destination for Afghans travelling through Pakistan and Iran, are signalling that they are unwilling to accept new refugees, and Turkey, a major gateway to Europe, is increasing restrictions on its border with Iran. In the emergency G20 meeting on Afghanistan (October 13, 2021) the European Union pledged USD 1.15bn to Afghanistan and its neighbours which are taking in refugees. Humanitarian aid will be critical in slowing down the pace of the Afghan exodus.
Since the beginning of this year, the sharp increase in violence that pre-empted the Taliban’s takeover of the country has led to an additional 400,000 internally displaced Afghans, on top of 2.9 million who were already internally displaced. Many of those displaced during the intense fighting between June and August were sheltering in Kabul. The drop in violence that followed the Taliban military victory makes it possible for many to return to their homes in parts of the country that until recently were all but unliveable. Many displaced families are returning to their homes, at the behest of Taliban authorities in the capital who claim to have already facilitated the return of more than a thousand families by mid-October. However, the process has been slow, especially for the families from the north who were part of the last wave of displacement before Kabul fell. Thousands more families are living in open areas of Kabul, some lacking income and shelter as winter is fast approaching. Other groups are facing increasing risk of displacement with the Taliban’s takeover. In addition to the expulsion of Afghans from Panjsheer province due to the Taliban’s heavy-handed military approach to countering resistance, the balance of power has shifted against Hazaras in central Afghanistan causing mass expulsions from the area. Many Panjsheeris and Hazaras are finding their way to Pakistan and Iran to avoid further Taliban aggression. The increasing threat of the so-called Islamic State of Khurasan is likely to prompt Shias of Afghanistan, who are mostly Hazaras, to seek safety in Shia-majority Iran.
The prevalence of the Taliban across the country has caused an unprecedented reduction in violence, especially in rural Afghanistan. In mid-September, a doctor in Wardak province, less than 100 km from Kabul, reported that for the first time in over two decades of his work there, they had no patients with conflict-related injuries. Reduced barriers to the overland movements of goods and people are opening new patterns of connectivity and movement inside the country, which may present opportunities for decentralised approaches to aid delivery to reach the most vulnerable Afghans. Truck drivers tell reporters that extorsion and bribery have virtually stopped on major highways. At the same time, however, other parts of society are seeing a return to some of the Taliban’s well-documented oppressive policies. While there is uncertainty around women’s freedom of movement with documented divergences between formal policy and practice as well as a regional variation, the prognosis for Afghan women is not positive. Especially considering that the Afghan conflict has left many Afghan families with a matriarch, who may have no choice but to leave Afghanistan to survive potential Taliban restrictions on women’s activities in the public domain.
Government and NGO jobs were a major drive for rapid urbanisation in Afghanistan. The collapse of the country’s foreign-dependent economy dramatically reduced the appeal of urban centres driving Afghans to migrate from cities to rural areas. Many employees of the former government and NGOs have been among the first to leave Kabul. Migrating back to rural areas may help reduce living costs for the urban-to-rural migrants but they face uncertain futures in rural Afghanistan. While the agricultural sector will likely become an increasingly important source of livelihoods, with exports able to generate the foreign currency that Afghanistan badly needs to import other necessities, many mobile Afghans had severed their ties to land in their villages, lost farming skills, and will be returning to rural Afghanistan during a severe draught. It is crucial that humanitarian aid, especially food, consider the impact it may have on the Afghan agricultural sector. Investment in sustainable farming is needed to enable Afghans to capitalize on the new opportunities for revival in the countryside that have emerged with the drop in violence.
The points explored in this article underscore how Afghans may be even more economically vulnerable in the face of political and economic isolation now than they were during the last period of Taliban rule in the 1990s. Though much of the international community’s attention remains focused on the movements of Afghans looking to flee the country, internal mobility dynamics present opportunities and challenges as longer-term needs for humanitarian aid and development support emerge.
The conflict between the federal government and the Tigray Defence Forces (TDF) has spread beyond Tigray, intensified old animosities between Tigray and Amhara, and drawn in armed groups from Oromia, Benishangul, and Afar, deepening identity-based contestations across Ethiopia.
These days fighting is moving ever closer to the capital, Addis Ababa, threatening a catastrophic escalation. Ethiopia’s cabinet declared a nationwide state of emergency and there are widespread reports of Tigrayan civilians being arrested without reasonable grounds. Governments around the world, from the US to Turkey, are advising their citizens to leave the country immediately.
Meanwhile, northern Ethiopia is facing a worsening humanitarian crisis, with more than eight million people in urgent need of assistance. In Tigray, at least 400,000 people are believed to be living in famine conditions. Two million people have been internally displaced and there are more than 60,000 refugees in Sudan. The first humanitarian convoys for more than a month recently entered the region, but there is still a need for 100 trucks a day to meet the local population’s most basic needs.
An joint investigation by the United Nations (UN) and the Ethiopian Human Rights Commission (EHRC), plus a subsequent report by the EHRC, have laid bare the widespread abuses, torture, and sexual violence against civilians committed by the Ethiopian National Defense Force (ENDF) as well as Tigrayan, Amhara, and Eritrean forces during different phases of the conflict including some which may amount to crimes against humanity and war crimes.
Tigrayan Advances But End Game is Unclear
Ethiopian government forces have been on the back foot in recent months. The TDF has captured significant territory including major cities and towns such as Weldiya, Dessie, and Kombolcha. Tigrayans also formed an alliance with the Oromo Liberation Army (OLA), which has captured territory in many parts of Oromia facing limited resistance from the ENDF and its allies. Joint forces are within 200km of Addis Ababa.
In Afar, the insurgents seek to cut off the main supply route to Addis Ababa from neighbouring Djibouti which would allow them to impose a blockade on the capital and potentially open a crucial supply line to Tigray. As such they have been met with stern resistance from federal and Afari forces.
But the end game of the Tigrayans is still not clear. They are yet to articulate a coherent political plan or form a coalition that has a chance of gaining national legitimacy.
The Tigray People’s Liberation Front (TPLF) and OLA recently established an alliance with seven smaller groups calling for the formation of a transitional authority, but the details of the agreement, which does not include many legitimate stakeholders, remain unclear. It is still uncertain whether the TPLF-TDF is fighting to conquer the entire country, to secure Tigrayan autonomy in a confederated Ethiopia, or to secede.
For his part, Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed remains bullish and committed to military victory, having declared he would lead the army from the frontline, and calling on citizens to take up arms against groups his government has designated as terrorists. He maintains significant backing in Addis Ababa but the federal government is no longer the only power base in the country.
Regional administrations are leading their own forces and prioritising their own ethno-federal agendas – fighting not only to protect and expand their territory but also to carve out favourable positions for themselves in possible future political dispensations. A self-sustaining logic of violence is at risk of being established.
Limited International Leverage
Neither side seems willing to listen to external calls for peace. Abiy appears to believe the international community wants to remove him and so his only option is to pursue a winner-takes-all approach. The TPLF/TDF also sees little value in negotiation, especially since its recent advances. Both sides perceive the other as an existential threat.
The European Union (EU) and the US have exerted some pressure by halting aid, with the latter also suspending Ethiopia from the African Growth and Opportunity Act, to try and bring the conflict to an end. Sanctions on Ethiopian actors have been withheld, at least for now, to allow time for negotiations to bear fruit, but targeted measures have been placed on Eritrean officials and institutions due to their destabilizing role in the conflict.
However, these efforts have had little success so far and the punitive action by external actors has been instrumentalized to stoke nationalism and mobilize resistance. Mediation will be crucial to resolving this conflict – but there is no single actor who can effectively carry it out.
The African Union (AU) Horn of Africa representative, former Nigerian president Olusegun Obasanjo, is engaging in shuttle diplomacy but his team needs more support and resources to achieve meaningful progress. US and EU envoys are also playing an important role in talks with domestic and regional players.
The AU is in a delicate position. Its headquarters are in Addis Ababa and its decision-making model demands consensus, making strong action such as suspending Ethiopia highly improbable. The regional bloc – the Intergovernmental Authority on Development (IGAD) – is similarly hamstrung due to upheaval in post-coup Sudan, the current chair. Even before the coup, deteriorating relations between Khartoum and Addis Ababa, and the ties between IGAD’s Ethiopian executive secretary and Abiy, made it challenging for the bloc to act as a mediator.
In the absence of feasible institutional mechanisms, the engagement of regional leaders such as President Uhuru Kenyatta of Kenya is vital. Kenya, currently a non-permanent member of the UN Security Council, has protected Addis Ababa from sanctions – along with China and Russia – insisting instead on an African-led resolution to the conflict. But it has also been outspoken on the humanitarian crisis and urged an end to hostilities. Following his talks with Abiy in Addis Ababa, Kenya’s president discussed ways to resolve Ethiopia’s conflict with US Secretary of State Antony Blinken, and South Africa’s president Cyril Ramaphosa.
Genuine Dialogue and Reconciliation
A road map to sustainable peace in Ethiopia can only be drawn after a ceasefire is achieved. For de-escalation to happen, both the federal government and rebels need to acknowledge each other as interlocutors. This would require the federal government to lift the designations of TPLF and OLA-Shene as terrorist groups and the rebel groups to accept the legitimacy of federal jurisdiction. The government and federal states would also need to allow humanitarian relief to reach Tigray as a matter of urgency. Meanwhile, a UN-mandated independent monitoring and evaluation commission could be established to oversee the ceasefire.
All sides would then need to recognize the overarching need to find a new political settlement and address Ethiopia’s deep-rooted structural problems. They need to start working towards reconciling their conflicting historical narratives, agreeing on a division of power between the centre and the regions, managing demands for ethnolinguistic self-determination, and resolving territorial disputes.
To move forward peacefully, Ethiopian leaders need to find a way to accommodate competing ideological perspectives and build a vision for consensual governance. This can only happen through national dialogue and an inclusive transitional process.
To this end, a dialogue platform has been established by the Ministry of Peace and several local organizations. But to strengthen this emerging process, the government should be an equal partner – alongside civil society groups and others – with peacebuilding and reconciliation endeavours reinforced.
The transitional process should include the federal government, rebel movements and senior opposition party leaders such as Jawar Mohammed, Bekele Gerba, and Eskinder Nega, as well as civil society and religious leaders, and eminent personalities.
Such an inclusive process could lead to an interim government of national unity recognised by all stakeholders. This government, with a short, pre-determined tenure, could implement institutional reforms to strengthen the federal project and allow for genuine devolution which would pave the way for national elections which meet local expectations and international standards.
A transitional justice strategy – essential for societal healing and holding perpetrators of atrocities to account – should also be developed. And stakeholders should agree on a process to manage autonomous regional security forces and reunify the national army. Addressing the economic drivers of conflict, such as ensuring peace dividends at a local level, is an important element of any long-term solutions. International partners should support this process with resources and technical expertise.
This article was originally published on Al Jazeera.
The head of Sudan’s armed forces Lieutenant General Abdel-Fattah al-Burhan claims the military coup of 25 October was to protect the transition to democracy because political infighting was stalling progress on establishing crucial institutions. But despite a clear determination to make the coup stick, the military is clearly under pressure and may have overestimated its chances of success.
The coup has been accompanied by arrests of politicians, activists, and leaders of local resistance committees, including some of Sudan’s most effective advocates for democratic transformation. Additionally, administrators appointed since the revolution have been dismissed while members of the old regime and Bashir’s feared intelligence service have reappeared.
Despite a communications blackout being used as cover for the security services forceful disruption of the resistance, with reports of 14 killed and hundreds injured, the Sudanese public – which removed Bashir’s Islamist regime with the most powerful protest movement in the country’s history – are demonstrating they will not accept a return to authoritarian rule.
Millions participated in coordinated pro-democracy protests across Sudan and beyond its borders on 30 October, and the non-violent resistance has continued, with large protests planned for 13 November and mass strikes paralyzing the country’s economy. This gives hope that the coup could still be reversed.
No Effective Leadership or Support
The military failed to build an effective civilian coalition in advance of the coup, or to have an alternative government in place, relying instead on opportunistic allies among its patronage network, Darfuri armed movements, and the Islamists. It is proving much more difficult than expected to persuade reputable civilians to join a post-coup government.
The generals also misjudged the strength of external reactions, with widespread international condemnation and calls for an immediate return to civilian rule from Sudan’s international donors and regional partners. The African Union (AU) has suspended Sudan while the US – clearly incensed the coup took place just hours after their regional envoy Jeff Feltman had been in Khartoum – reacted strongly and sought to coordinate with its allies.
Riyadh and Abu Dhabi notably joined calls for the restoration of the civilian-led transitional government, encouraged by Washington and London. Despite their strong prior relationship with the Sudanese military establishment, the Gulf states have already shown that they will not cover the costs of propping up Sudan’s failing economy.
Sudan’s generals are isolated, although geo-strategic interests do help them retain Russian and Israeli backing. Support is chiefly coming from Egypt which lobbied to soften the AU stance on suspension. Having quelled its own pro-democracy uprising in 2013, Cairo seeks Khartoum’s support in its dispute with Ethiopia over the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam.
A major pressure point is Sudan’s ongoing economic crisis, further amplified by COVID-19. In July, inflation was more than 400 per cent worsening already dismal living conditions for many. Meaningful economic recovery is heavily reliant on international support which key donors have made clear is contingent on the political transition moving forward.
The US immediately paused its $700m assistance and the World Bank suspended $2 billion in development grants. Sudan had also been on course to write off much of its $56 billion external debt under the Heavily Indebted Poor Country (HIPC) Initiative, also now threatened.
The military have unlocked an ongoing economic blockade of Sudan’s eastern ports and flooded markets with cheaper foods in an attempt to soften resistance on the street. This further highlights its enduring control over key levers of the economy and is evidence of its previous efforts to sabotage the transition.
An Emerging Political Settlement?
With the military under pressure, there remains a possibility that the coup could be reversed. But talks between representatives of the Forces for Freedom and Change (FFC) and the generals remain precarious. The outline of a potential settlement has emerged which would see the prime minister Abdalla Hamdok resume his functions, all political detainees released, and the transitional constitutional order restored. Hamdok is the sole credible figure to lead a civilian transition and is understood to see these as minimum requirements for his return.
Shuttle diplomacy by the United Nations (UN), the Troika, AU, and other officials has yielded only glimmers of progress. Four civilian cabinet members have been released but other key figures remain in detention.
And the military continues to demonstrate a lack of good faith, arresting members of the FFC central council following a meeting with UN envoy Volker Perthes, and disbanding the committees that were recovering assets acquired corruptly by the former regime, detaining both their members and records. The concerning release of Islamist allies and appointments of officials from the Bashir era only further undermines Burhan’s claim to be acting in the interests of civilian rule.
These moves have hardened civilian demands for a full handover of power and for charges to be brought against the coup leaders, but Burhan remains under intense pressure not to back down from hardliners within Sudan’s powerful security apparatus. These forces are headed by generals who held senior posts in the Bashir regime and include Islamists and Bashir sympathisers determined to block the democratic transition so they can regain control of the state apparatus.
Without realistic means of removing the military from the political scene there are clear risks of escalating violence, but it is still possible to build a more inclusive civilian-military partnership with determination and compromise on both sides.
As a first step to de-escalate tensions, all those detained for political reasons since 25 October should immediately be released, and Sudan’s international and regional partners must maintain pressure on the military and its backers to accept a legitimate civilian transition is paramount for stability in Sudan.
The military has controlled Sudan for 52 of its 65 years of independence and is deeply entrenched in key aspects of the economy such as agriculture, industry, and mining, so civilian pro-democracy forces will have to accept a continued role for the military is unavoidable for some time yet.
And they may need to address the fears of the military leaders, perhaps through an amnesty programme, in return for concessions that reinforce the transition. Sudan’s international partners must likewise emphasise the need for compromise and realism to its civilian and civil society leaders.
Creating and Strengthening Institutions
Neither side finds these bitter pills easy to swallow, so it is imperative political and institutional spaces are created and protected to allow for debates and disagreements to be both aired and contained. This would also provide an opportunity to re-double efforts to create a set of strong civilian-led institutions which will put Sudan back on the path to a more stable future.
A joint civilian-military body should be established to discuss the military’s direct interests, such as unresolved issues of power-sharing, corruption, and security sector reform. Establishing an effective parliamentary security committee would apply crucial civilian oversight of reform and address the military’s role in key economic sectors. Tackling justice and accountability requires setting up the high judicial council, a constitutional court, and appointing a chief justice, as well as dealing with the issue of Bashir and others subject to ICC arrest warrants.
Creating a legislative assembly is vital to broadening political participation and ensuring checks and balances on the leadership. Decisions under the transition were taken by only 41 people in cabinet and the sovereign council, so representatives from Sudan’s political movements and civil society should be given places in the transitional institutions and parliament, with suitable experts chosen for the 11 independent commissions provided for in the constitution.
And there is no need to rush to early elections, but there should be an emphasis on creating a conducive environment to enable people all across Sudan, including in the peripheries, to fully participate rather than opening the door for the old regime to return through sham elections.
The coup is a major setback for Sudan’s democratic transition and the freedom, peace, and justice dreamed of by its people. There are fears of an Islamist counter-revolution by stealth which could yet lead to a brutal crackdown and renewed conflict. But in carrying out the coup, Sudan’s military leaders may have inadvertently exposed their own fragile foundations both at home and abroad.
With steadfast, unified diplomacy, pressure on those seeking to support the coup, and consistent messages to all parties on the necessity of compromise, Sudan’s external partners can still help its long-suffering and courageous people put the civilian transition back on track.
In September 2021, at the height of the unprecedented fuel shortage in Lebanon, a tanker carrying Iranian fuel docked at a Syrian port where the fuel was loaded onto trucks and driven through an illegal border crossing into Lebanon. The fuel shipment was brokered by Iran-backed Hezbollah to help alleviate Lebanon’s energy crisis that has been brought on by the country’s ongoing economic crisis. The newly formed Lebanese government made no comment about the shipment while Hezbollah hailed the arrival of the fuel a ‘victory’ and as having ‘broken the American siege’ on Lebanon. Despite it being in violation of US sanctions on trade with Iran, the US ignored the scenario altogether.
Although Hezbollah’s propaganda around the arrival of the Iranian fuel exaggerated its potential impact on Lebanon’s fuel shortage, the incident is significant because of what it signals about regional conflict. Firstly, the Lebanese government’s acquiescence to the shipment effectively means implicit acceptance that the border between Syria and Lebanon is porous. Secondly, the absence of condemnation by the United States signals that Lebanon is viewed as a component of the Iranian ecosystem in the Middle East – of which the Syrian conflict is another major component – rather than a distinct player. Both angles demand a new policy framework in understanding and addressing the dynamics of conflict in the region that goes beyond country-focused approaches.
Western governments including the US and UK have for many years helped provide security infrastructure on the Lebanon-Syria border. For example, the UK has funded watchtowers on the Lebanese side of the border to stop the influx of militants from Syria into Lebanon and control smuggling between the two countries, which flows in both directions. The Iranian fuel entered Lebanon through one of the many illegal crossings along the border. The fact that the Lebanese government turned a blind eye to this shows that no amount of technical infrastructure support by the international community would halt illicit transactions of this kind when the authorities themselves are complicit. It also complicates the distinction between licit and illicit activities.
The company that Hezbollah used to distribute the Iranian fuel in Lebanon, Amana, has been on the US sanctions list since 2020. However, sanctions have not stopped Amana from operating inside Lebanon or from continuing to have financial transactions with entities in Syria or Iran. This shows that while the sanctions have largely succeeded in severing financial ties between sanctioned companies and actors engaged in business with the West, they have not fully cracked the illicit financial system that links countries such as Lebanon, Syria, Iran and Iraq. This financial system plays an important role in sustaining actors involved in conflict in these countries as well as their relationships with one another.
Iran and Hezbollah are major participants in the Syrian conflict, as well as other conflicts in the Middle East, and the Iranian fuel incident highlights the regional and national networks that Iran and Hezbollah rely on to operate, which are not limited to non-state actors. The arrival of the Iranian fuel was publicized well in advance and the Lebanese authorities could have, for example, deployed personnel to block its arrival in Lebanon or tried to hold those involved in this illegal transaction accountable. That they chose not to shows the extent of Hezbollah’s control over the Lebanese state and that corruption in Lebanon goes beyond taking advantage of state resources; it is systemic and not limited to a few bad apples inside state institutions. This in turn highlights the short-sightedness of any approach to stabilization or security in Lebanon that is merely focused on providing technical assistance to state institutions and does not take into consideration the wider context of the need for good governance and institutional reform.
Joseph Diing Majok is a South Sudanese researcher with the Rift Valley Institute (RVI) and a member of the X-Border Local Research Network, part of the XCEPT programme. His work, in partnership with Dr Nicki Kindersley, is focused on the borderland regions between Northern Bahr el-Ghazal state in South Sudan, and Darfur and Kordofan in Sudan. On the strength of his work with the Local Research Network, as well as several other projects with RVI, Diing was recently awarded a scholarship to study for a Masters at Edinburgh University. We asked Diing about his work under XCEPT and his upcoming MSc in Africa and International Development.
Joseph, hi to you in Juba – please introduce yourself.
I’m Joseph Diing. I was born around 1987 – it’s not exactly clear because my mum and dad had never gone to school, and they did not know exactly the year I was born, but it seems to be 1987. I was born during the war, in the SPLA [the Sudan People’s Liberation Army]-controlled area where I grew up. I am one of the ‘beneficiaries’ of the SPLA bush schools, where I studied until the peace agreement came [in 2005]. And this is when we first moved into town. I sat for my secondary school certificate, and finally studied Anthropology at the University of Juba. I graduated in 2018.
And how did you begin your career as a researcher?
One of my university lecturers, who was affiliated with the Rift Valley Institute, invited me to participate in a workshop on oral history research techniques. My first work with RVI was as a research assistant trying to identify key informants and schedule interviews with them, and provide translation and data transcription. In 2018, when the X-Border Local Research Network project began, I was called back as a research assistant to collect data in the field, especially in Northern Bahr el-Ghazal, where I have a lot of contacts and knowledge – it’s where I come from. My lead researcher Nicki Kindersley wanted to develop me, not just to work and make money, but to devote myself, to be able to write, and to become a future researcher.
You’ve just won this prestigious and very competitive scholarship to study an MSc in Africa and International Development at the University of Edinburgh – congratulations!
It’s really like a dream, you can’t imagine! When I went to school in 2000, under a tree, only one teacher, and most of our teaching was about military training – Attention! Turn to the right! Turn to the left! – it was a sort of preparation for being in the army, for future liberation. It was a mechanism to control us, and to put us into the SPLA when we grew up. It was not intentionally to educate us for the future, because we were at war and we lived in an area that was heavily affected by violence, and raiding from various militias, and also the government forces. So, from there … to get a scholarship to study in the UK is just like a dream. And also because, in my country, scholarships are not given on merit, but on political loyalty or relationships.
What are you going to focus on in your postgraduate studies?
I was chosen for this scholarship because of my work with the Rift Valley Institute and the X-Border Local Research Network, and so my research experience and the area I’d been focusing on, especially cross-border migration, militarisation, agriculture and labour transitions, and governance.
With this scholarship I’m going to further explore the political economy of agrarian transformation in the borderland of South Sudan. The theme is militarised governance in the labour system, and the impact on agriculture in Northern Bahr el-Ghazal. I will also look at how access to capital – where you form your own militia and tax people on the road – affects the social stratification and gender roles of the Dinka people in the borderland.
Could you share what sorts of experiences and opportunities the X-Border Local Research Network, the LRN, has offered?
The X-Border Local Research Network partnership includes international researchers taking a supervisory role and empowering local researchers – for example, giving them the chance to analyse [data], and guide them to build their critical thinking on analysing the situation. And also in their writing. If the partnership continues, I think South Sudan will have more local researchers in the future – I think it’s a very good relationship.
Let’s turn to the focus of your research. What interests you about borders and borderlands?
You’ll see people focusing on the centre – for example on Juba. And people sometimes look at the borderlands as areas far away from the capital with no influence on political changes inside the city, which is quite wrong.
If you look at access to power in the capital, the border is very important because it’s a semi-autonomous place where people recruit and mobilise, and negotiate themselves into power in the centre. People who are in political power in Juba compete for control of the border between Sudan and South Sudan because then they have access to money through tax. These [contestations] are very influential in shaping the political power dynamic inside the city.
Has anything surprised you during the course of this research?
What I really learn [in the field] is the interconnection between the labour system in the 1980s and 1990s – when people were displaced and being exploited in Darfur – and how it relates to today. It’s the very same people who formed their own militias – exploiting people, benefiting through agriculture and labour, and also taxing them – who continue to control the region of Northern Bahr el-Ghazal. And what was perceived as illegal exploitation [previously] has become legal today.
So there are deep historical echoes here?
If you look at the history of South Sudan and Sudan, there is a lot that is happening today that can be related to the 1980s, and if you analyse even further back – there is a lot that can be related to the 17th century when the Messeriya and the Rizeigat Arab tribes in Darfur used horseman to raid the Dinka tribe of Bahr el-Ghazal. They killed people, dispersed the population, and robbed their property. And also took slaves – using them as their workers on the farms in Darfur and also in Kordofan, and selling them to Jazeera, where the plantations were developing.
So this is really fascinating! Why did people go back? Because what was perceived to have been wrong, and what people fought against during the 1980s and 1990s, is the same system installed today – and legalised.
And are people resisting this new-but-old exploitation?
Women, young people, and even elderly people who are being exploited every day have started a discussion. I’m really interested in researching this resistance further, because people have now become quite suspicious of their own government. And there are local discussions happening on how to resist this form of exploitation, which is now branded as “legal”, or something reasonable.
What forms is the resistance taking?
One emerging form of resistance is the Church. The Church counsels people, but it also enlightens people about standing up for their rights, and some Pastors tell people to stand for their rights.
Another form of resistance is song. Men and women are coming together, for example in Northern Bahr el-Ghazal, and they’ve initiated a dance club, where people dance and they sing songs trying to correct their leaders, and they try to point out the exploitation and brutalities being inflicted upon them.
Women experience the worst exploitation in Northern Bahr el-Ghazal. They’re prevented from migrating across the border to Sudan by security officials. A woman would only be allowed to cross the border once she had a letter from her Chief, and she has to pay a lot of money to be allowed to cross. Why? To keep this population of women, and exploit them by making them work on the farms with less payment – or sometimes they get paid in grain. But there is resistance. Women hold dance parties to interact together, and there’s also a club where women go and discuss their own issues.
Do you share your final research with the communities you focus on?
The Rift Valley Institute does dissemination. After we publish a report, we go back to the people in the community – we call them, we organise a small meeting to discuss it, and they are so impressed! Sometimes they look to us as activists. We’re communicating their problem to people who can help them, which is really very good. So, when I go to Northern Bahr el-Ghazal, many people know me as a researcher, as someone who collects data in order to help them, to elevate their voices to be heard by people in the US and the UK who cannot come to Northern Bahr el-Ghazal.
Read Joseph Diing’s work produced via XCEPT’s X-Border Local Research Network:
On August 24, a group of former rebel fighters left the besieged parts of Daraa city in southern Syria. They departed for Al-Bab in rebel-controlled northern Syria. This was in line with what seems to be a preliminary agreement brokered by Russia and signed by both Damascus and the former rebels. The full extent of the agreement is not yet clear, however, though it is now certain that the regime is insisting on uprooting the resistance networks in the city, composed mainly of former rebel fighters.
The issue of former rebel fighters has long preoccupied the regime. From the start, Damascus was unhappy with an agreement brokered by Russia in 2018 with the rebels. In large part this was because it prevented the regime from dismantling former rebel networks, a situation it has sought to change. One way to achieve this aim was for the regime to gradually encroach on the former rebels’ turf.
The immediate causes of the Daraa crisis go back to June 23, when the Daraa Central Committee, composed of former rebels and the local civilian opposition, rejected a joint proposal by the regime and the Russians that armed elements hand over their light and medium-size weapons in return for the regime’s withdrawal of its militias, which were widely criticized for their abuses. When negotiations broke down, the regime besieged Daraa, leaving open only a single road into and out of the area. About three weeks into the siege, Damascus brought in reinforcements in preparation for a military operation.
Increasingly under pressure, the Daraa Central Committee agreed to a deal on July 24. At its core, the agreement permitted the regime to reenter besieged parts of Daraa city with its security forces and the army. It also stipulated a handover of some weapons by the rebels in exchange for the regime withdrawing its local militias and calling off any military escalation.
Yet the agreement fell through. Some accused the Syrian army’s Fourth Armored Division of trying to undermine the deal by bombarding the city. Others reported that the Daraa Central Committee had not been transparent about its agreement with the regime. When some of the rebels discovered that the committee had agreed to greater regime control than it had initially announced, they refused to abide by this. Some even considered it a “betrayal.”
With the breakdown of negotiations, small armed groups attacked and succeeded in taking over several regime checkpoints, capturing dozens of soldiers in the process. This marked a major escalation. The images and videos that circulated online could easily have been mistaken for those taken before 2018. In response to the former rebels’ actions, the regime expanded its bombardment campaign to include cities other than Daraa, most notably Yadouda, Jasim, and Tafas, and tightened its blockade. In a clear signal that it would not back down, Damascus called in yet more reinforcements and dispatched Defense Minister Ali Abdullah Ayoub to Daraa to oversee the regime forces’ military readiness.
Interestingly, reports abound that Russia encouraged the regime’s actions, particularly the siege. This was also apparent from the reactions of several Daraa Central Committee members to the situation on the ground. While they had previously accused Russia of inaction in the face of regime violations of the 2018 agreement, this time committee members accused it of outright complicity in the regime’s actions. Instead of serving as guarantor of the 2018 agreement, Russia was now helping the regime against the rebels.
Yet just as a conflagration seemed poised to erupt, Russia donned its mediator’s hat once again. At the end of July, the Russians succeeded in brokering an open-ended ceasefire, which was followed on August 15 by a “road map” that offered a detailed resolution. The road map fulfilled all of the regime’s conditions and gave very little to the opposition. It stipulated the reentry of the regime’s security, military, and civilian institutions, a handover of weapons by the rebels, and an evacuation of those who refused to live under the regime’s writ. This was everything the rebels and the civilian opposition had previously rejected, but were now obliged to accept due to the new balance of forces. From their perspective, the only tangible gain from the agreement was that it averted a major military escalation.
All this raises questions about how Russia views the regime’s increasingly assertive policy in the south. Moscow has generally appeared keen to play the role of mediator, yet seems to have hardened its position on the rebels. Indeed, Russian fluctuation during the Daraa crisis—studied noninterference followed by last-minute mediation—as well as the road map it set out clearly gave the regime the upper hand. Nevertheless, there is a limit to how far Russia will go along with Damascus. The Russians may not be opposed to the regime’s attempts to exercise greater security control in Daraa Governorate. However, they oppose a military escalation that could lead to the collapse of the post-2018 order that Moscow itself put in place, and will step in to avert such an outcome.
This blog was originally published by the Malcolm H. Kerr Carnegie Middle East Center.
On February 1, 2021, Myanmar woke to the news that its military forces, known as the Tatmadaw, had retaken power after a decade of democratic government. The political realignment led to mass demonstrations and nationwide uprisings, with doctors, teachers, and civil servants engaging in a civil disobedience movement. As protests began to spread from urban areas in the majority ethnic-Bamar lowlands to the borders, ethnic communities called for greater changes beyond the restoration of democracy, voicing long-held political grievances over the country’s political system and demanding representative political institutions and future federal arrangements.
One such ethnic-majority area, Kachin State, in the country’s northeast, is a useful case study for understanding how current national protest movements in reaction to the 2021 military takeover have connected with broader historical struggles waged for decades by ethnic communities in Myanmar’s borderlands. The Kachin Independence Army (KIA), with an estimated 20,000 combatants, is one of the most powerful ethnic armed organizations (EAOs) in Myanmar. Established in 1961, the KIA has waged war against the Tatmadaw in resource-rich Kachin State for decades.
In the aftermath of the political turmoil, mass protest campaigns in the Kachin State capital of Myitkyina were met with the same violent crackdowns by security forces as those in Yangon and other parts of the country. The KIA stepped in to warn the regime against the use of excessive force on protesters. Growing political tensions gave way to an escalation in conflict, with KIA offensives against key Tatmadaw command posts as well as military-run mining sites and transport infrastructure in Kachin State. Meanwhile, repression of protests in majority ethnic-Bamar regions led to growing calls by broad segments of civil society for EAOs to join opposition movements and engage the Tatmadaw militarily. As the KIA continued to launch offensives against the Tatmadaw, aiming to retake territory it had lost following the collapse of a long-standing ceasefire, its actions were celebrated by protesters.
Calls for joint armed forces between Bamar and other ethnic groups have grown, with the KIA becoming an active participant in discussions with ousted lawmakers and exiled democracy actors. Coordination bodies have been established to ensure the representation of Kachin interests in political discussions of future governance scenarios in a peaceful Myanmar. At the same time, crackdowns by security forces on protests and civilian opposition have become more violent. Large groups of young protesters, primarily in urban areas around Yangon and Mandalay, posit that armed insurrection is inevitable and seek combat training in EAO-controlled territories in the borderlands.
Like many EAOs, the KIA is now in a position of having support from many ethnic-Bamar populations, which for decades had cast EAOs as rebel groups at the source of Myanmar’s many conflicts. The shift in public perception, and the gradual alignment of EAO objectives for autonomy with protesters’ desires for an end to Tatmadaw control, have opened up new spaces for the discussion of historical ethnic grievances. This has also caused a shift in the broader political economy of Myanmar’s conflict landscape. EAOs actively engaged against the Tatmadaw now occupy powerful positions within national protest politics and state-building debates, while the political capital that some ceasefire-signatory groups had built over years of formal peace dialogue with the Tatmadaw is waning. This is particularly the case for smaller EAOs that today have limited fighting capacity.
Escalating conflict in the northeast has put pressure on the revenue-raising activities of armed groups, including the lucrative extraction, transportation, and cross-border trade of natural resources. Amid the foreign currency crunch brought about by the banking crisis and international sanctions, the Tatmadaw, through proxy militia groups, and the KIA are fighting for control over jade, amber, and rare earth mines in western Kachin State. This is cause for concern in neighboring China, whose government has thus far refrained from intervention. Undoubtedly, China’s priority will be to focus on conflict management in the area, whereby active fighting is reduced and the security situation stabilized, rather than becoming directly involved in the conflict or its resolution. Chinese actors are likely most concerned about the potential involvement of Western actors in the border areas, as well as safeguarding the substantial investments they have made in energy and infrastructure projects there.
With strong popular support in the nationwide protest movement, the KIA is positioned to influence the direction of national political discussions and emboldened to continue efforts to expand its territorial control in the northeast. This includes parts of neighboring Shan State, which are home to large ethnic Kachin populations, and which have long been contested by the Tatmadaw and local militia. In this new conflict landscape in northeastern Myanmar, as the KIA continues to assert itself against the Tatmadaw to achieve its long-held ambitions, it is certain that local communities will bear the burden of increased violence.
The crisis wrought by the abrupt change in government overlays the Covid-19 pandemic, with political turmoil amplifying the growing economic and humanitarian crisis. The United Nations predicts that, as a result, up to half of Myanmar’s population risks sliding into poverty and experiencing food and fuel shortages this year. Conflict-affected areas, including Kachin State, already face significant vulnerability, with many communities regularly displaced by fighting, large illicit economies operated by myriad armed actors, and weak public-service and support infrastructure across contested territories. As the KIA seeks to consolidate its influence in the northeast, it will have a stronger say in regional governance and in mitigating the effects of these crises on the ground.
These developments are being replicated in different ways across many EAO-controlled territories as the political turmoil reshapes Myanmar’s conflict landscape. Historical conflicts are being reignited and altered, ushering in a new chapter in Myanmar’s seven decades of civil conflict, but clear solutions remain as elusive as ever.
Peripheral Vision: Views from the Borderlands sheds light on how political, security and socio-economic developments affect the people living in contested borderlands and, conversely, how border dynamics shape change and transition at the national level.
In this issue we cover:
– War and peace in the Sudan-Ethiopia borderlands;
– Border crossings, roads and regional politics in Iraq; and
– How anti-coup protests affect conflict dynamics in Myanmar’s North-Eastern borderlands.
Produced by the X-Border Local Research Network—a partnership between The Asia Foundation, the Carnegie Middle East Center, the Rift Valley Institute, and their local partners—it draws on recent research and analysis produced by the project to interpret current events from the perspective of border regions. PERIPHERAL VISION is published twice a year, as a timely update of dynamics on the ground,
The freeing of the Ever Given on 29 March 2021 was the result of several days-worth of intensive dredging, non-stop work by a fleet of tugboats, and a favourable swell combined with unusually high tides caused by a full moon. For almost a week the 220,000-tonne ship had managed to completely block traffic in the Suez Canal where roughly 12 percent of global trade transits, creating a back-log of over 400 vessels. Billions of dollars’ worth of cargo, ranging from sheep to oil and thousands of seafarers were all stuck on both sides of this vital chokepoint that connects the Mediterranean to the Red Sea.
The Suez Canal is one of the eight major chokepoints of world trade. Others include the Straits of Hormuz (between the Persian Gulf and Gulf of Oman), the Straits of Malacca (dividing the Malay Peninsula and the island of Sumatra), as well as the Bab el-Mandab, which separates the Arabian and African continents between Djibouti and Yemen. These are sites that ‘choke’ the flow of resources, information and bodies whose circulation is critical to global commerce. As the Ever Given’s unplanned stopover showed, chokepoints are sites of considerable economic, political, and military significance. Narrow, often difficult to avoid, and heavily trafficked, chokepoints can represent potentially paralyzing vulnerabilities to vital systems and networks.
While the Suez Canal is one of the most visible global chokepoints, the Western Indian Ocean region, which includes the Horn of Africa and Arabian Peninsula, includes many more; from ports to mountain passes, as well as narrow straits like the Bab el-Mandab. As RVI’s research has shown, Chokepoints are crucial spaces for cross-border and trans-regional mobility and, as a consequence, have become sites of political possibility and profit. Control over chokepointsis thus a crucial feature of politics and social life in this region.
Long neglected or only understood within frameworks of national and state-centric understandings of the region, chokepoints and corridors are increasingly emerging as key spaces of conflict and contestation in the Western Indian Ocean region. Crucially, they have also become locations where a range of actors from small states like Djibouti to subnational entities like Puntland seek to engage regional and international bodies. These are crucial sites of negotiation between a variety of actors and power brokers in the region. Simultaneously, there are locales where colonial histories of extraction and exploitation continue to manifest themselves, such as in battles over port access, but also crucially sites of refuge and community, for example for Yemeni migrants fleeing the war and sailing to places like Bosaso (Puntland) and Obock (Djibouti). These are places where the weak can sometimes become strong, such as when pirates captured ships transiting through the chokepoints of the Bab-el-Mandeb resulting in a global maritime response and untold losses for crew and cargo.
In addition to being a story of great power politics and new visions of regional and transregional connectivity, chokepoints demonstrate the need to better integrate maritime realms into policy analysis. More than just empty spaces or simply zones of transit, maritime realms are shaped by political, economic, and social forces on land, while also themselves shaping developments on land—from the physical impact of winds and tides in shaping rainfall patterns, to contests over offshore resources.
Understanding this dynamic can help produce analyses that treat maritime space in a similar way to the dynamics associated with borders and cross-border relations. The integration of maritime realms into policy studies of regions such as the Horn of Africa thus emphasizes the overlapping of socio-political, economic and environmental realms.
As the case of the Ever Given made briefly visible, global trade circulation is a fragile project. Chokepoints reveal both the points of tension and constriction in this system and the mix of human and non-human actors that make global trade possible.
In the past decade, the war in Syria has reshaped not only the country’s own border peripheries, but also those of its neighbors. In few places has the impact been more painfully felt than in the northern Jordanian city of Ramtha, located only 10 kilometers away from the southern Syrian city of Daraa.
Before 2011, Daraa and Ramtha were tied together through trade relations. Daraa supplies goods to Ramtha, which in turn became a hub for the sale of Syrian products in northern Jordan. A decade on the two cities have different stories to tell. Daraa has seen the Syrian war suck all economic life out of the city, while the closed or only partially reopened border with Syria has helped to impoverish Ramtha, which relies heavily on cross-border trade.
Active in the cross-border trade were Jordanian drivers who worked the route between Ramtha and Daraa. These drivers, known as bahhara, or “sailors” in Arabic, embodied the vulnerability of border communities as well as the resilience of cross-border relations. Being a bahhar is a culture unto itself, a profession that involves techniques and attitudes passed on from father to son. These include courage, sharp-wittedness, and a native ability to navigate through border crossings and deal with the border authorities.
The cross-border business of the bahhara was built on the different market, labor, and production conditions in Syria and Jordan. Most goods were cheaper in Syria and in high demand in Jordan. This provided the drivers with an ideal opportunity to profit by buying products in Syria and reselling them in Jordan.
On a normal day, a trip to Daraa and back took a few hours. Soon after passing the Ramtha-Daraa crossing, Jordanian drivers found themselves shopping in Daraa’s numerous rest stations (istirahat), which offered many goods sought by Jordanians. While the bahhara rarely ventured deeper inside Syria, goods did travel from Syria’s interior to Daraa before being transported into Jordan.
As one Jordanian trader explained, “[Before 2011] I used to go to Aleppo to buy goods. After making my selection, I would tell the producer to ship them to Daraa’s rest stations.” In essence, Daraa was not just a market, but a “port” for export to Jordan thanks to the “sailors.” Why ship directly from Aleppo to Jordan when delegating the job to the bahhara meant faster door-to-door service, and most importantly provided a cheaper option?
According to official Jordanian data, just before 2011 there were some 800 cars licensed to work on the Syria route, most of them from Ramtha. They drove legally registered cars but their business was not entirely legal. On paper, their job was to transport passengers from different Jordanian cities to Syria, which they often did. But the real profit was in transporting Syrian goods on their way back. Some played it safe and transported small amounts—sweets, cigarettes, or cleaning agents—toward which the authorities turned a blind eye.
This petty trade became more lucrative when drivers brought in more than the tolerated amounts while paying low or no customs duties. This practice created a major informal economy before 2011. Although it cost the state in import revenues, it was tolerated because it generated economic activity in Ramtha. The bahhara took pride in earning income without relying on Jordan’s bloated public sector, while also bringing cheap goods to the market. Moreover, they made Ramtha a hub for redistributing Syrian goods throughout Jordan. Azraq, a small town near the Jordanian-Saudi border, was one such destination. The rest stations in the town offered Syrian cheese and sweets, among other goods, to those traveling to Saudi Arabia.
Decades of cross-border trade created strong commercial relations that sometimes turned into friendships and were even inherited by young bahhara. Despite the war and destruction of Daraa and closed or restricted Syrian-Jordanian borders, these relations remained resilient and allowed drivers to cope with new circumstances. For example, after traveling to Daraa became risky for the bahhara in 2011, Syrian traders would bring the requested goods into a restricted area within the customs’ premises. In that way, Jordanian drivers could pick up their goods without having to venture into Daraa.
However, resilience and creativity also had its limits. In 2013, it became very difficult, if not impossible, for Jordanians to cross into Syria, beginning a five-year interruption until the border was reopened in late 2018. In the meantime, southern Syria, especially Daraa Governorate, faced considerable physical, economic, and social destruction, as well as the displacement of capital and human resources. Syria was no longer the same place. Nonetheless, when the borders reopened—only the Nassib-Jaber crossing, as the Daraa-Ramtha crossing remained closed—trade resumed and old relations were even revived. One driver noted that “Daraa [city’s] rest stations had moved to Nassib [city]. Yet the first traders who welcomed us there in 2018 were from Daraa. We could even take goods with credit, as in the old days. Over time we made new contacts.”
If some of the old relationships survived, the business environment had radically changed. Goods still came from different parts of Syria, though the quantities were smaller and the delays longer. Entering Syria was not that difficult, coming back, however, became increasingly nightmarish. The Syrian customs were characterized by the absence of the state, as one bahhar put it. This meant that corruption and near lawlessness were rampant, as the crossing was one of the few economically active places in Syria allowing pro-regime militias to make money. As one bahhar described the new situation, “Before [2011] we gave custom officials a tip. Now those controlling the crossing want a share of our income.”
On the Jordanian side, matters were smooth at first, although the Jordanian authorities increasingly took tougher measures. Intentionally or not, this made the bahhara’s trade hardly profitable. Jordan was pressured by the United States not to facilitate trade relations with Syria. The kingdom also faced security challenges such as drug and weapons smuggling, while the customs service was working at a lower capacity. All this forced Jordan to alter its border policies, thereby creating more obstacles for the bahhara.
The consequence of these developments was that economic activity again dried up in Ramtha, eventually leading to unprecedented social unrest in August 2019, less than one year after the reopening of the Nassib crossing. The coronavirus crisis that hit the region in March 2020 compelled Jordan to close the border again, without popular objection. Ever since, the bahhara, and by extension the people of Ramtha, have waited impatiently for the day the border will reopen.
Today, Ramtha’s sailors find themselves without a sea. Yet their story shows how when given the slightest opportunity they are capable of reigniting old ties, creating new ones, and capitalizing on the market differences between Syria and Jordan.
This blog was originally published by the Malcolm H. Kerr Carnegie Middle East Center.
As the coronavirus spreads globally and the international community is preoccupied with the pandemic, some sides within Yemen’s ongoing war are taking advantage of the moment to reopen battlefronts. No matter how widely the virus spreads across Yemen, the fighting between the Saudi-backed, internationally recognized government; the Iranian-backed Ansar Allah group, known as the Houthis; and the United Arab Emirates–backed Southern Transitional Council (STC) has continued and even escalated in some fronts in the last two months despite the recent announced ceasefires. Even more troubling, all parties are already using the pandemic as a chance to advance their own agendas.
Last month, after UN Secretary General António Guterres and others called for a global ceasefire during the coronavirus pandemic, a two-week ceasefire announced by the Saudi-led coalition was received with high optimism by the UN envoy to Yemen, Martin Griffiths, and other international representatives. They viewed it as a step toward establishing a conducive environment for a lasting nationwide ceasefire. However, the Houthis did not consider it to be a ceasefire, and they said “they will continue to fight.” In the meantime, they published what they call a “comprehensive vision to end aggression,” in which they put forward several maximalist conditions.
Two weeks before Saudi’s truce announcement, the Houthis and Yemen’s government welcomed the UN’s call for a global ceasefire. But soon after releasing their statement, the Houthis launched an offensive in several districts of the northeastern governorates of Marib and Al-Jawf, erupting massive military confrontations with government forces. They also fired two ballistic missiles at the Saudi cities of Riyadh and Jizan, marking the first Houthi assaults inside the kingdom since their twin strikes on Saudi oil installations in September 2019. Saudi air defenses intercepted these new strikes; in turn, the Saudis conducted multiple airstrikes on Yemen’s Houthi-held capital, Sanaa. In the western city of Hodeida, clashes broke out between Houthi and government forces. Meanwhile, in the south, tensions escalated between the Saudi-backed forces and the STC fighters in Abyan and Aden. This reflects that the reality on the ground has nothing to do with those political declarations. The warring parties released official statements to improve their own images and shift the blame for the conflict onto their adversaries, and at the same time their ongoing battles on several fronts have only intensified in recent weeks. There is no indication that the warring parties are truly committed to implementing the ceasefire so far, despite the UN envoy’s “virtual” consultations with all actors. Each party is convinced that the war is still incomplete. None of them are ready to pursue peace before achieving their wartime objectives, even when the coronavirus threat is at their door.
Meanwhile, five years of warfare have nearly destroyed Yemen’s public health system, compounding suffering among a desperately poor and hungry population. The World Health Organization has provided some support to medical centers in Aden, Sanaa, and Mukala to respond if a case is confirmed. Up to now, there has been just one reported case of the coronavirus; however, many health activists doubt this for two reasons. First, Yemeni medical facilities are not equipped to test suspected cases. Thousands of Yemeni travelers returned to Yemen in the past month from affected countries, including Egypt and China, without being tested at the country’s ports. Second, the warring parties are all eager to hide suspected coronavirus cases, because they hope that low numbers will show their capability to contain the pandemic in their respective areas. For example, two weeks ago, after news began to spread about the discovery of coronavirus cases in multiple countries, the minister of health in Yemen’s government-in-exile gave a televised speech reassuring his viewers that Yemen is free of the virus. However, he did not provide details on what steps his ministry is taking to curb the pandemic, and he gave no explanation about what (if any) testing procedures his ministry has followed to sustain his claim.
Even more troubling, some factions view the pandemic as an opportunity to recruit more fighters. For instance, some Houthi activists state in their media discourse that “it is better to die a martyr in heroic battles than dying at home from the coronavirus,” and suggest that “being in a battlefront is safer than being at risk in crowded towns.”
All parties are also using the pretext of pandemic prevention and response measures to make money or push their objectives. In some areas, they use the excuse of pandemic prevention to extort money from civilians hoping to be allowed to pass through local checkpoints. Another key source of revenue, aid provided by international nongovernmental organizations, has been instrumentalized in the struggle between the STC and the internationally recognized government in Aden. STC forces held essential coronavirus-related equipment, sent by the WHO, in the port to prevent government medical staff from accessing it. By compelling the international community to deal directly with the STC, the council hopes to gain recognition for its ongoing de facto rule of Aden, which it has been fighting to maintain since last August.
The current escalation during the coronavirus echoes the cholera catastrophe of the past three years, an experience that the warring parties have kept in mind. Even as that highly communicable disease affected more than 1 million people and caused thousands of deaths, the fighting continued, and armed actors exploited the crisis to make money from international aid flows. All sides will most likely use the same approach with the coronavirus, demonstrating their indifference toward victims and the gap between civilian concerns and militia interests.
As the war in Yemen enters its sixth year, hopes for peace seem elusive, and the virus will compound the already deep humanitarian crisis. The pandemic diplomacy that the UN envoy has attempted to utilize to bring the actors to the negotiating table is not being taken seriously. In previous years, hostilities continued despite the high number of casualties, caused either directly by the armed confrontation or indirectly through diseases and famine. There is little reason to expect that the warring parties will deviate from this approach. Neither external mediation nor the virus can stop this war if none of the Yemeni factions are willing to end it.
