Currently much of the world’s attention is focused on the UN’s struggle to achieve a ceasefire and avert humanitarian catastrophe in Palestine. At the same time, another devastating war rages in Sudan, with similarly violent consequences for millions of people and an inability to reach a ceasefire.
Sudan is now the country with the largest number of displaced people in the world – more than 11 million people. Since April alone, 5.4 million people have been internally displaced and 1.3 million have fled to neighbouring countries including Chad, Egypt, and South Sudan. While over half the population – 25 million people (including 13 million children) – urgently need humanitarian assistance.
The toll of the war on civilians continues to worsen, with devastating intercommunal violence and ethnic cleansing across Darfur, huge infrastructural damage, as well as loss of livelihoods and escalating humanitarian strife.
On the surface, the war in Sudan may seem like a typical civil war. Two rivals, the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF) and the Rapid Support Forces (RSF), are fighting for land and power.
The RSF have made gains in Khartoum and Darfur, where they are consolidating control, while the SAF have suffered a series of humbling defeats that seem to have made elements within their leadership more open to negotiations.
An effective partition has emerged in Sudan, with the SAF controlling the east and northeast and RSF controlling much of the capital and west of the country.
Looking at the conflict in Sudan as merely a civil war between two national groups is misleading. Sudan sits at the confluence of four regions, the Horn of Africa, North Africa, the Sahel, and the Arabian Gulf across the Red Sea.
Both the SAF and RSF engage economically, politically, and militarily with a motley of governments and armed groups from these regions (and beyond) to fight their war.
In its pursuit to control the supply chain of gold, the RSF has extended its economic operations beyond Sudan’s borders, selling primarily to the United Arab Emirates (UAE), which has consequently become a key backer.
The SAF accrue rents not only through taxing exports and imports transiting Port Sudan, but also by receiving support from foreign governments including Egypt, Qatar and Turkey, including via the sale of strategic commodities such as gold and livestock. Economic processes not only connect Sudan to the region, but also facilitate the supply chains that fuel and sustain the conflict.
Sudan sits at the confluence of four regions. Both the SAF and RSF engage with a motley of governments and armed groups from these regions to fight their war.
These foreign actors also view Sudan as a playground for their own pursuit of regional influence. For instance, the UAE competes against its Gulf rival Qatar, with the former backing the RSF and the latter supportive of the SAF.
The UAE leverages its other regional allies, from Libya’s Haftar to the government of Chad, while the SAF have sought support from Turkey and Iran in providing them with drones to use in the war. These positions have complicated attempts to mediate between the warring parties during the Saudi–US sponsored Jeddah talks.
Many fear that without a swift and durable ceasefire this war could divide the country, with both sides declaring their own governments. If the war becomes protracted then further fragmentation and militarization is likely, including along ethnic lines. This will only worsen the humanitarian disaster and regional spillover.
A sense of growing urgency has driven recent mediation efforts by the regional bloc IGAD, given the limited success of other interventions to date. However, the lack of heft and collective approach needed of the international response has contributed to the inadequacy in resolving the war. This means negotiating not only between the two sides, but navigating all the transnational actors who have a stake in the conflict.
Many conflicts around the world suffer from similar dynamics, but policymakers often engage them as bounded by national borders, excluding the interests and influence of actors who fuel the conflict from other countries.
This is partly a product of the structures of foreign policy and international development. For instance, the UK government has for several years administered Joint Analysis of Conflict and Stability (JACS), used to guide the National Security Council Strategies. These JACS are in most cases country-focused, meaning they are based on the analysis of conflict advisors and external consultants who work on the country in question.
What the exercise often misses, however, is analysis from advisors and experts who work on countries that seem geographically distant, but which nonetheless have a stake and fuel the conflict. In such cases, regional JACS should be more central to decision-making. In Sudan, for example, the wide array of country teams which focus on the Horn of Africa, the Sahel, Egypt, the Gulf, Turkey, and Iran, should all be part of the analysis of the current conflict.
The gap in the analysis phase extends to both policymaking and programming in these conflicts. Most programmes that deliver aid or offer institutional support (like building hospitals or implementing anti-corruption initiatives) are confined to teams which focus on the country where the conflict has erupted.
However, these initiatives again become susceptible to transnational actors and processes which are not always identified by the country-specific focus. This means that potential spoilers may be present which do not map on the policymakers’ horizon, challenging the sustainability of peace agreements or development projects.
In the Middle East and Africa, armed conflicts that have erupted in places like Sudan are not confined to national borders. These dynamics are also seen in the conflict in Sinjar, Iraq, where armed groups with authority across multiple countries vie for control; or in Libya where the smuggling and trafficking of people from Nigeria across multiple borders fuels conflict along the way; or in Israel and Palestine where regional and foreign governments arm and support one side or the other.
None of these conflicts are isolated from their wider regional and international arenas of interlocking actors, processes, and geographies that transcend the bounded terrain of nation states. Yet, current initiatives by foreign governments or multilateral organizations approach them by doubling down on those national borders.
This includes either closing off or securitizing borders, or focusing conflict response mainly on actors who come from within those borders. While external interests are often understood, solutions are developed largely in national terms, often sidelining the more complicated web of foreign influence.
Chatham House’s XCEPT research works to bridge these gaps and consider how transnational dimensions of conflict fuel and (re)produce armed conflict, often over great distances. This reality is critical to understanding why and how armed violence erupts and, critically, how to achieve more sustainable peace.
Although the roadblocks spanning Somalia are initially easy to disregard as bureaucracy, in practice they are pressure points that connect multiple actors shaping trade networks and political projects across the Somali territories. While researchers already know that terrorist groups like Al-Shabaab value road-blocks, this podcast discussion focuses on lesser-known checkpoints operated by various actors and the impact these roadblocks have upon their surrounding region.
The podcast guests, who have each recently released an XCEPT-funded paper exploring how terrorism, political interests and economic regulation collides in Somalia, come together to untangle the fluid web of roadblocks and checkpoints evolving in Somalia’s ever-changing political landscape.
This podcast has been produced by the Rift Valley Institute (RVI) as part of the FCDO’s Cross-Border Conflict Evidence, Policy, and Trends (XCEPT) Program, a consortium initiative funded by UK Development. XCEPT brings together leading experts to examine how conflicts connect across borders and the factors that influence both violent and peaceful behavior in conflict-affected borderlands.
Lebanon’s difficulties are manifold: deliberate economic depression orchestrated by the country’s ruling elite;[i] political paralysis caused by the Lebanese parliament failing to elect – for the 12th time – a president;[ii] and unhealed psychological scars following the Beirut Port blast in 2020 that ranks as the third largest urban explosion in history, after the Hiroshima and Nagasaki atomic bombings.[iii] But this veil of despair masks what was once a vibrant undertone of optimism and joy – four years ago, Lebanese people from all walks of life came together to reclaim their bodies, their streets, their city, and their country, in hope for revolutionary change.[iv]
Today, Lebanon marks the anniversary of the October 2019 uprising, alternatively called thawra (revolution) by idealists. On 17th October 2019, Lebanese people from all walks of life coalesced and rose up against a ‘kleptocratic ruling class of sectarian leaders and financiers that had captured and bankrupted the state after fifteen years of civil war (1975-90) and three decades of post-war neoliberal policies’.[i] Demonstrators objected to endemic corruption and demanded instant reforms to an absurdly clientelist and sectarian system ingrained at the heart of Lebanon’s political and economic system.
Four years on, however, the legacy and significance of the uprising remain a matter of controversy. For its critics, the thawra is synonymous with negative emotions and distressing memories, due in part to the internal divisions among protestors, increased state repression, co-optation strategies by the ruling elites, and the ongoing economic meltdown which all characterised the failure of the revolution.[ii] Advocates, on the other hand, argue that the thawra remains an ember of optimism in a gloomy mist of political hopelessness.[iii]
I spent two months in my Lebanese homeland earlier this year to carry out fieldwork for my PhD, which focuses on geographies of emotions within Lebanon’s October 17 protest movement, exploring how spaces, places, landscapes, and memories affect protestors politically and influence their feelings and emotions regarding the thawra and its aftermath. I was able to gather personal testimonies of Lebanese youth who recall complex emotions and painful memories encountered during the thawra. Here are some of their stories.
Amongst the demonstrators in October 2019 was 20-year-old undergraduate student at the American University of Beirut (AUB), Fatima,[1] who is part of both the AUB secular club and organisation Mada, a political network and movement constituting of secular clubs in universities and syndicates across Lebanon.
For Fatima, the thawra was a revelation and a conviction that it was no longer a choice to be politically neutral, as she proudly reveals: ‘I was raised in a repressive and infantilising atmosphere where my family attempted to repress my political opinions and silence me, making me this numb machine that succumbs to their political ideologies. This made me feel isolated from what was going on in the world consider[ing] I was being sheltered from something I was going to be inevitably exposed to at university’.
When the protests broke out on 17th October, Fatima was finishing school, and she admits being conscious of certain aspects of her own political ignorance. She witnessed her friends embracing their own political activism, which motivated her to rebel with them. ‘I saw all kind of things happening, especially the teach-ins and heated debates that made me more politically aware. I witnessed violence, I saw people falling in love, I saw people rejoicing, dancing, and cursing politicians. For the first time I got this multi-faceted view of what Lebanon is’.
Four years later, Fatima still views the thawra as part of her daily life. ‘The way we do it for me and for those in Mada and the AUB secular club is that we run for elections, we hold daily discussions, we protest, we hang posters, we invite experts to give a talk, we go on television to speak’. It seems that there is no one dimension or direction to resisting amongst youth today, and there is hope this will bring change. For example, one year after the thawra, thanks tostudents like Fatima, there was unprecedented success for independent secular groups in student council elections, over those aligned with the traditional political parties.[i]
The thawra encouraged many to see another side of Lebanon, and of themselves. ‘This is where my feminist political identity developed,’ Fatima professes. ‘I saw women being at the forefront of the revolution. I saw brave women standing up for themselves and fighting against the sectarian class, like the heroic women that kicked a police officer in the face. Seeing this as someone who was still in school was a steppingstone for my adulthood and shaped who I am. I felt that one day I can be one of those women. In fact, I am now’.
The legacy of the thawra is one of political activism, but also one of distress. Anger and humiliation are common shared sentiments amongst youths I interviewed, as they revealed painful memories of this mass revolt that continue to affect them today. I spoke to 24-year-old graduate, Mona, who worked with think-tanks in the Middle East, researching youth participation in the thawra.
‘The thawra was the first time I participated in a protest movement and will be the last,’ she told me in a dispiriting tone. ‘I was very hopeful at first, I sensed a feeling of solidarity I never experienced before. I felt that people had my back, and we shared the same vision for this country. I started asking political questions when we used to have dinner with my family, which was a taboo back then. I questioned my aunt about the reasons she supports Hezbollah. I am not scared or intimidated to ask questions anymore. I felt the urge to learn and the right to know, unlike in the past where I believed it was too complicated to understand politics’.
Unfortunately, this optimism for change was soon overshadowed by utter hopelessness. Mona shares a painful memory of the march to mark the first anniversary of the Beirut Port explosion on 4th August 2021 which impelled her to distance herself from activism. As protestors expressed their outrage over the political elites’ ineptitude and corruption in the aftermath of the blast that killed 180 people, injured more than 6,000, and caused massive destruction across the city, the Lebanese military used lethal force against them.[i]
‘I had some hope that the Lebanese authorities will be afraid of us as we were well equipped with tear gas to protect ourselves from the brutality of security forces. Like cockroaches they compelled us to leave. I remember this vividly as I was with one of my closest friends. We started crying, we literally failed, there was nothing we can do. Everyone was fleeing from the tear gas and water cannons. I kept crying for feeling hopeless. That night completely changed my perception towards Lebanon. I now separated myself completely from Lebanese politics as a result of [the] hopelessness I felt after that night,’ she cried.
Today, Mona lives in the United Arab Emirates (UAE) and works as a senior communications executive. She is one of many who have joined the exodus of Lebanon’s most educated citizens, to search for jobs and education abroad in the aftermath of the thawra, because of the continuing social, economic, and political crisis.[ii]
On the four-year anniversary of Lebanon’s thawra, the impact and significance of this historic event remains unresolved. This transformative moment is also one of the most disputed protest movements in contemporary Lebanese politics. It is crucial to revisit personal testimonies and critically reflect on these competing emotions and painful memories to understand the myriad ways Lebanese youth currently engage with and feel about the thawra, their perceptions of change, and how this influences the actions they will take in the future. The hope, despair, fear, and joy embodied in the diverse Lebanese narratives reflect diverging perspectives and timeframes, but also attitudes to Lebanon’s convoluted past and the quest for a better future.
[i] Human Rights Watch (2020) Lebanon: Lethal force used against protestors [Online] available from https://www.hrw.org/news/2020/08/26/lebanon-lethal-force-used-against-protesters
[ii] Financial Times (2023) More than half of young Arabs in Levant and north African pin hopes on emigrating [Online] available from https://www.ft.com/content/0ef960d8-1282-4fa9-a009-e24eebeab0e7
[1] Interviewees names have been changed to ensure anonymity.
[i] Arab Reform Initiative (2021) Lebanon’s student movement: A new political player? [Online] available from https://www.arab-reform.net/publication/lebanons-student-movement-a-new-political-player/
[i] Makdisi, K., 2021. Lebanon’s October 2019 Uprising: From Solidarity to Division and Descent into the Known Unknown. South Atlantic Quarterly, 120(2), pp.436-445.
[ii] LCPS (2021) Why did the October 17 Revolution witness a regression in numbers? [Online] available from https://www.lcps-lebanon.org/articles/details/2462/why-did-the-october-17-revolution-witness-a-regression-in-numbers
[iii] LSE (2023) Lebanon Unsettled: The contentious geographies and histories of the October 2019 uprising [Online] available from https://blogs.lse.ac.uk/mec/2023/07/31/lebanon-unsettled-the-contentious-geographies-and-histories-of-the-october-2019-uprising/
[i] World Bank (2022) Lebanon’s Crisis: Great Denial in the Deliberate Depression [Online] available from https://www.worldbank.org/en/news/press-release/2022/01/24/lebanon-s-crisis-great-denial-in-the-deliberate-depression
[ii] Al Jazeera (2023) Lebanon’s parliament fails to elect president for 12th time [Online] available from https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2023/6/14/lebanons-parliament-fails-to-elect-president-for-12th-time
[iii] Al Hariri, M., Zgheib, H., Abi Chebl, K., Azar, M., Hitti, E., Bizri, M., Rizk, J., Kobeissy, F. and Mufarrij, A., 2022. Assessing the psychological impact of Beirut Port blast: A cross-sectional study. Medicine, 101(41).
[iv] Cornet, L. (2022) An Emotional Diary of the Lebanese Revolution [Online] available from https://phmuseum.com/news/an-emotional-diary-of-the-lebanese-revolution
The UK Aid-funded Cross-border Conflict Evidence, Policy and Trends (XCEPT) research programme seeks to better understand conflict-affected borderlands, how conflicts connect across borders, and the factors that shape violent and peaceful behaviour, to inform effective policy and programme responses. Led in part by Chemonics UK, XCEPT hones in on the behavioural dimensions of conflict in partnership with King’s College London (KCL), who explore how memories, motives, and trauma and mental health affect pathways to violent/peaceful decision-making over time.
The Chemonics XCEPT team and our local research partners undertook a mixed methods field study in northeast Syria in late 2021. As part of this work, we sought to better understand the impacts of conflict and violent extremism on adolescents in the region. We also considered potential drivers of vulnerability to violent extremist sympathy, as well as factors that may support adolescent resilience. Our field research findings echo wider academic research on violent extremism. There is no single, linear pathway toward radicalisation. Instead, a variety of contextual factors, individual incentives, and other enablers emerged as relevant to consider, but which should not be seen as determinative.
XCEPT programme research underway through KCL further examines potential linkages between adverse childhood experiences (ACEs) and vulnerability to violent extremism, among other potential negative outcomes. In our field research, negative outcomes we observed include depression, post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) or other manifestations of trauma, and vulnerability to violence, criminality, and drug abuse. Other research with Syrian children and adolescents has demonstrated very high rates of mental health problems, with over half of 8-16-year-old Syrians living as refugees in Lebanon meeting the criteria for PTSD, depression, anxiety, or externalising behaviour problems. Many children met criteria for more than one disorder, better characterised as complex trauma reactions driven by chronic adversity as well as past exposure to conflict. These findings highlight the importance of addressing adolescents first and foremost as victims of conflict and avoiding stigmatisation as potential violent extremists.
Adolescents in northeast Syria are growing up in a context where social cohesion has frayed, with the conflict upending traditional sources of individual and community resilience. The normalisation of violence has shaped adolescents’ behaviour. Displacement is a near-universal experience that prompts feelings of loss, hardship, and isolation. Ineffective local authorities oversee an uneven recovery, with a worsening economic crisis and disrupted education constraining adolescents’ hopes for the future. A sense of uncertainty and despair permeates the adolescent experience, alongside a widespread desire for a return to ‘normalcy.’
Our research found that access challenges, quality constraints, and safety risks all undermine education services in northeast Syria. Older adolescents in particular are increasingly dropping out of school as their families struggle to make ends meet. For boys, this often means looking for work, while for girls this frequently results in early marriage. Local authorities are unable to grant accredited certifications, and the costs of private tuition and travel to regime-held areas for official examinations are prohibitive for many families. Insecurity on the journey to/from and within schools further reduces attendance and affects adolescents’ mental health.
Based on the findings of XCEPT’s research, Chemonics and partners designed an informal educational curriculum and delivered a ten-week pilot programme for adolescents and youth aged 12-18 in northeast Syria (Deir Ez-Zor and Raqqa). The pilot programme incorporated constructs identified as relevant by the research, including social and emotional learning (SEL), instilling a sense of agency, and critical thinking skills. The pilot curriculum emphasised a life skills-based, informal educational approach, incorporating methods such as arts and self-reflection activities that resonated with adolescents in the fieldwork. At the end of the pilot, the programme observed statistically significant increases among adolescent participants across all domains.
Taken together, the learnings from the successful pilot programme and the findings from our study yield important considerations for the design and delivery of interventions that aim to strengthen adolescent resilience:
Visit UKFIET, where this article was originally published.
Peripheral Vision: Views from the Borderlands is the programme’s bi-annual news bulletin, exploring new and emerging issues across our focus regions.
Localisation in the humanitarian and development sector involves shifting power and resources into the hands of local actors and delivery partners to improve the efficiency, effectiveness and ownership of humanitarian action. A core objective of XCEPT’s Local Research Network, is to emphasise the need for local knowledge and analysis to be reflected in international responses to conflict and support to peacebuilding. Engaging with and amplifying ground-level research supports a more nuanced understanding of complex conflict contexts, counteracting state-centric policymaking that can end up neglecting the needs of communities in border regions. Local knowledge is critical for building reliable and robust datasets that accurately reflect the experiences and perspectives of local communities. In this podcast, The Asia Foundation’s Nathan Shea speaks to three researchers undertaking data collection and analysis in Bangladesh, Somalia and Syria. They share their experiences working in conflict-affected border regions, discuss methods for engaging with local populations in challenging contexts, and share their insights on how to improve localization efforts in the research sector.
Disclaimer: The opinions, findings, and conclusions stated herein are those of the speakers and do not necessarily reflect those of XCEPT.
Speaking at a memorial event 10 years on from 9/11, then President of the United States, Barack Obama, said that the past decade told the story of America’s resilience. The faith, the belief, and the will of Americans had been tested, but not broken. Losses were mourned, and legacies commemorated, but the American experience endured, and, President Obama observed, ‘where the World Trade Center once stood, the sun glistens off a new tower that reaches towards the sky’.[i]
The events of 9/11 showed the world the strength of the American people, but it also brought another focus on resilience. With concerns over ‘home-grown terrorists’ and the mounting threat of future attacks, Western governments adopted more pre-emptive strategies, turning to resilience as a strategy to counter violent extremist beliefs.[ii] Policies started focusing on building societal and individual abilities to resist radicalisation and withstand the impact of terrorist attacks. The aim was to enhance personal strengths and mental robustness to prevent extremist ideologies from spreading among communities.[iii]
How does resilience work?
The term ‘resilience’ actually originates from physics, where it was used to explain the ability of metals to absorb energy and return to their normal state when the energy had been released. Over the years, it has come to be used in a variety of disciplines.[iv] In ecology, resilience represents an ecosystem’s ability to alter in response to unanticipated external disruptions without losing its basic identity or capabilities.[v] In medicine, it denotes patients’ recovery from physical injuries. In psychological and social studies, resilience refers to an individual’s ability to rebound from adversity, or to tolerate major chronic and severe stressors without developing mental health problems.[vi]
When it applies to terrorism and violent extremism, resilience takes on a larger meaning. It relates to societies’ and individuals’ abilities to reject extremist beliefs, to avoid radicalisation and terrorist threats, and to recover from their repercussions.[vii] As a result of its broad applicability, resilience has become a buzzword in the field of countering violent extremism (CVE), receiving substantial interest from both scholars and policymakers.[viii]
The underlying premise of resilience to violent extremism is that terrorism is fuelled by social, economic, and political inequities, and that those who are disadvantaged or isolated are particularly susceptible to radicalisation.[ix] Resilience-focused strategies therefore aim to prevent terrorism by developing strong, connected, and adaptable individuals with mental strength, who can reject extremist beliefs and recover from attacks.
The Flaws in Resilience
Governments have focused on assisting individuals in building cognitive abilities such as critical thinking, encouraging certain personal characteristics like empathy, and promoting ideals such as tolerance and openness to discussion of contentious subjects.[x] A more critical evaluation of the notion of resilience, however, exposes its limitations and potential pitfalls.
Resilient Until Not
One of the fundamental flaws of the concept of resilience to violent extremism is that there is no such thing like inherent and absolute resilience to political violence. The Turkish community in Belgium, for example, is often considered resilient to jihadism compared to the Moroccan community, but is this because they are inherently resistant to political violence, or because of their commitment to other strong political movements, such as support for Erdogan or Kurdish separatists?[xi] This presents an important question: is there a general resilience that makes an individual unlikely to engage in violence, regardless of the political cause?[xii] Another hypothetical example can be observed in populations living in Western democratic countries, who are usually defined as highly resilient to violent extremism and ideologies. If Western citizens were to become willing to fight and die for liberal democracy, would they start being labelled as non-resilient?
Dominant Norms Dictate Resiliency
Narrowly defining resilience as resistance to violent extremism presents an even more complex challenge. What is not considered violent extremism today may become so under different circumstances. The strong values and identity of the Turkish community in Belgium may have buffered them from involvement in jihadist-linked radicalisation, but this doesn’t mean they would be deterred from engaging in violence in support of other causes.[xiii] If the dominant norms that dictate what constitutes a healthy reaction to threats (or, in this case, to violent extremism) were to change, a community, or an entire population, may quickly become non-resilient.[xiv]
Shifting Responsibilities to Local Actors
Additionally, by prioritising the building of resilient communities, there is the risk of shifting responsibilities from the government to local actors.[xv] The emphasis on the person should not eclipse the need to address the social, economic, and political issues that fuel radicalisation.[xvi] Take poverty – it is as if, in the context of worldwide disparity in wealth distribution, rather than addressing the root causes of poverty, initiatives focused on making disadvantaged communities more resilient to the consequences of poverty. This should not happen in the context of violent extremism. If vulnerability to radicalisation is often caused by external causes like discrimination or abuse, governments should focus on creating social changes to tackle these causes, and not just on making the individual stronger in the face of difficulties.
Imposition of Western Perspective
It is also important to recognise that resilience frameworks constructed from a Western perspective might fail to account for the cultural and contextual factors that drive extremism in non-Western or tribal countries. Syria and Iraq, for example, have endured long-lasting wars, and their populations live in hostile circumstances that necessitate high degrees of resilience. Substantial financial difficulties, political instability, restricted access to healthcare, and massive social unrest are all characteristics that can foster an environment highly vulnerable to extremism. Approaches to CVE in such areas necessitate tailored solutions that address these specific issues. Consequently, the efficacy of resilience-based interventions varies greatly among cultural contexts, and a generic approach would likely fail to tackle the unique issues encountered by marginalised or conflict-affected populations.
In conclusion, while the idea of resilience has received significant attention in the fight against violent extremism, a closer examination reveals its ambiguities and limitations. It is important to question what we mean when we say a community or group is resilient. As policies and interventions to promote resilience are developed, it is also critical to recognise the potential biases inherent in dominant norms and to investigate alternate perspectives. Societies can build stronger and more successful counter-radicalisation tactics, as well as foster a more inclusive and peaceful society, by acknowledging these critical perspectives and taking a balanced approach.
____________________________________________________________________________
[i] The White House. (2011). Remarks by the President at “A Concert for Hope”. https://obamawhitehouse.archives.gov/the-press-office/2011/09/11/remarks-president-concert-hope
[ii] Jore. (2020). Is resilience a favourable concept in terrorism research? The multifaceted discourses of resilience in the academic literature. Critical Studies on Terrorism, 13(2), 337–357. https://doi.org/10.1080/17539153.2020.1733788
[iii] Christodoulou, E., 2020. Boosting resilience’ and ’safeguarding youngsters at risk’: critically examining the European Commission’s educational responses to radicalization and violent extremism. Lond. Rev. Educ. 18 (1), 18–34. https://doi.org/10.18546/LRE.18.1.02;
Home Office. (2021). Building a Stronger Britain Together.
[iv] Davidson, Jacobson, C., Lyth, A., Dedekorkut-Howes, A., Baldwin, C. L., Ellison, J. C., Holbrook, N. J., Howes, M. J., Serrao-Neumann, S., Singh-Peterson, L., & Smith, T. F. (2016). Interrogating resilience: toward a typology to improve its operationalization. Ecology and Society, 21(2), 27–. https://doi.org/10.5751/ES-08450-210227; MacKinnon, D., and K. D. Derickson. (2013). From Resilience to Resourcefulness: A Critique of Resilience Policy and Activism. Progress in Human Geography, 37(2): 253–270. doi:10.1177/ 0309132512454775.
[v] Jore, 2020.
[vi] Bourbeau, P. (2018). A Genealogy of Resilience. International Political Sociology, 12(1): 19–35. doi:10.1093/ips/olx026.
[vii] Jore, 2020.
[viii] Wimelius, M.E., Eriksson, M., Kinsman, J., Strandh, V., Ghazinour, M. (2018). What is local resilience against radicalization and how can it be promoted? A multidisciplinary literature review. Studies in Conflict and Terrorism, 1(18). https://doi.org/10.1080/1057610X.2018.1531532.
[ix] Ellis, & Abdi, S. (2017). Building Community Resilience to Violent Extremism Through Genuine Partnerships. The American Psychologist, 72(3), 289–300. https://doi.org/10.1037/amp0000065
[x] Stewart, S. (2018). Building Resilience to Violent Extremism. A cultural relations approach. British Council.
[xi] Hamid, N. 2018. The Road to the Paris November 2015 and Brussels March 2016 attacks. Artis International.
[xii] Stephens, & Sieckelinck, S. (2021). Resiliences to radicalization: Four key perspectives. International Journal of Law, Crime and Justice, 66, 100486–. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.ijlcj.2021.100486
[xiii] Hamid, 2018.
[xiv] Anholt, R., 2017. Governing Humanitarian Emergencies, Protracted Crises, and (In)Security through Resilience. Retrieved from Amsterdam. https://research.vu.nl/ ws/portalfiles/portal/12946141/ISR_Governing_Insecurity_Through_Resilience_Research_Report_2017.pdf
[xv] Anholt, 2017; Christodoulou, 2020.
[xvi] Evans, B., Reid, J. (2013). Dangerously exposed: the life and death of the resilient subject. Resilience, 1(2), 83–98.
It’s said that the definition of madness is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different outcome. Yet, once again, the international community is using the reports of a government in Kabul to build an understanding of the Afghan economy and the tax revenues that the de facto authorities earn. Corruption shaped the economic political fabric of the Afghan Republic and impacted the very data used to measure and analyze the performance of the economy. This all points to the need for a more skeptical view of the official data reported by Kabul, and other administrations in fragile and conflict-affected states. There is, after all, much that takes place on the peripheries of these states that is difficult to monitor and control; it is part of what defines them.
To read the full article, visit Lawfare, where this article was originally published.
I’m Dr Inna Rudolf, a Research Fellow on the XCEPT project, as well as a Senior Research Fellow at the International Centre for the Study of Radicalisation (ICSR) and a Postdoctoral Fellow at the Centre for the Study of Divided Societies at King’s College London (KCL). On the XCEPT project, I mainly cover topics such as identity politics, mobilisation, and post-conflict reconstruction – with a particular focus on social healing and post-conflict recovery.
My current work for XCEPT focuses on Iraq. Along with my colleagues, I’ve been examining an array of issues in the country, including looking at grievances that are currently affecting populations in some of the liberated provinces – with most of our recent research focusing on the province of Nineveh. Our main goal is to understand people’s attitudes towards peacebuilding and recovery, as well as their attitudes towards rebuilding their urban spaces in the post-conflict context.
My colleague, Dr Craig Larkin, and I have been researching the role of competing memory narratives in post-conflict reconstruction in Iraq. This has been an extremely interesting adventure – intellectually, academically, but also socially, as the province is so diverse.
I had the opportunity to conduct interviews with representatives of different Christian denominations, with Shabaks, Sunni Arabs, Shia Arabs, Kurds, Yezidis, and Turkmen. We spoke to people about what life was like under the Ba’ath party regime, after the regime fell following the US invasion, and under the Islamic State (IS), as well as following the liberation of Mosul. We are getting a better understanding of the province because of these different perspectives which are, at times, conflicting and contradictory.
It is clear from our research that doubts and prejudices have come to shape people’s perspectives in Iraq. Perceptions of the ethnic or sectarian ‘other’, or of the international community and the role of the federal government, have really helped us understand why certain narratives surrounding peacebuilding and belonging resonate with the local population and others don’t.
In keeping with these doubts surrounding the federal government, we learned that a lot of people perceived the post-2003 Iraqi state as a construct, captured by different self-serving elites who they accuse of corruption and negligence. We learned that feelings of resentment have been building up towards various formal and informal security forces who are perceived as being politicised by ruling elites.
Yes, a lot of our research has been centred specifically on Mosul. One of the important topics we looked at was the issue of rebuilding the city and how this ties into feelings of belonging. The city fell to IS in 2014, and was liberated in 2017, so it’s going through a complex rebuilding and reconstruction process. Our research showed that even before 2014, there were different priorities in terms of what should be rebuilt, how, and when. It also showed us that if you want to “build back better”, you have to first understand what was systematically going wrong before IS captured the city in 2014.
Our research in Mosul also touched on the psychology of spaces and how certain urban sites – even historical, cultural, and religious landmarks – are being reimagined and what kind of reaction this triggers from local populations. For example, some of the initial designs that came from the UNESCO-sponsored architectural competition for designing and rebuilding the famous al-Nuri Mosque triggered backlash because they were seen as too alien and removed from the well-known pre-war designs.
One of the ideas discussed for the mosque was a courtyard designed specifically for people from different communities to sit together and “engage in coexistence”. However, if you were a native Moslawi, you would argue that you don’t need a space artificially designed to encourage you to practice coexistence because, historically speaking, Moslawis are the “Godfathers of coexistence”. What people said was that they wanted instead to see the rebuilding of their mosque in the same way that was familiar to them – as it used to be before all the violence.
This corresponds to the character of society in Mosul – a conservative one, but in a cultural sense, with strong commitment to traditions. Something that needs to be acknowledged is that when people push for rebuilding or reimagining pre-existing structures, different segments of society have to be consulted and engaged in the process. Acknowledging this interaction between separate social groups within Iraq as a necessity, we’ve been focusing our research on understanding the different ways in which both competing and overlapping narratives of the traumatic past impact attitudes towards the reconstruction process.
When speaking about life under IS, interviewees often spoke about what being confined to the city felt like. We heard stories of women who were not able to escape, or who decided to stay because they had elderly family members they needed to care for, so for them it wasn’t really an option to flee.
Many who remained boycotted IS’ ideology in their own ways but feel that they are still being labelled as IS supporters – just because they ended up staying in the city – and this is causing feelings of disillusionment and anger. These are just some of the aspects of our research findings which I think very much contribute to our more granular understanding of Iraqi society, as it’s extremely important to trace both what happened with IS but also the challenges that are still present in the face of rebuilding.
What I really love about the XCEPT approach is the fact that we’re not just looking at violent behavioural patterns and we’re not just looking at the ‘popular heroes’ or practitioners that are driving peacebuilding efforts. We are also looking at the grey mass – the people that did not engage in violence, but that were also not necessarily involved in peacebuilding efforts.
If the overall aim of our research is to understand how trauma can affect the character of a city, hearing how the local population lived and resisted during those years of IS’ capture of Mosul is very important. We learned about underground initiatives that were taking place to preserve Moslawi culture, history, and identity, and the mechanisms that were developed in order to counter IS’ propaganda machinery. This helps us, as researchers, to better understand the context of the city as it is today and tells us about the experiences of those now either engaging in, or indirectly shaping, the trajectory of the rebuilding process.
I also love that within XCEPT we can identify a lot of under-researched, understudied grey areas, and we can conduct field work that allows us to communicate the perspectives of local actors. In one of our latest publications on the controversies of peacebuilding, we covered a lot of criticism by local peacebuilding practitioners in and around Mosul. They were, of course, grateful for any support they were receiving from international donor organisations, but they also shared with us their frustration because of the lack of strategic, forward-looking planning in the way funding is being provided.
What we also heard a lot from local participants is the idea that you can’t expect people to come and discuss very emotionally and psychologically traumatic experiences of violence when they’re not able to provide for their kids. Peacebuilding initiatives need to foster reconciliation and tackle past injustices, but they should also aim to provide broader socio-economic support to improve the livelihoods of Iraqis.
One of the things I sincerely hope that the XCEPT project can contribute is to really understand feelings of longing and belonging in Iraq, but also feelings of alienation and disillusionment towards the state. I think one of the most important tasks of the international community, but also of Iraq’s international partners, is not just to engage in piecemeal projects that help certain local communities, but also to find a more sustainable mode of engagement with ruling elites, like with Iraqi government officials. This could allow them to exert more influence through conditional financial support, thereby improving the management oversight of how funds are being distributed and how donations are being used to actually achieve real good.
International actors should also learn when it makes more sense to step back while pushing the Iraqi national authorities into the driver’s seat. When you provide funding in a way that creates incentives for national authorities to do it right, it can grant you more leverage to hold them to account in terms of how funds are being spent.
Read Dr Rudolf’s policy briefing on post-IS reconciliation in Iraq
This Q&A was originally published on the International Centre for the Study of Radicalisation (ICSR) website.
In 2014, Islamic State (IS) took over the city of Mosul in Iraq. Thousands of people were killed, and almost one million were displaced. IS also attacked Mosul’s proud history of co-existence among its diverse communities, destroying churches, mosques, shrines, and heritage sites.
IS has now been pushed out of Mosul, but with memories of conflict embedded in the walls of the city, how can Moslawis begin to move forward?
Read Dr Inna Rudolf’s and Dr Craig Larkin’s policy briefing on post-IS reconciliation in Iraq.
Generally, you don’t have violent conflicts linked to pastoralism in Cameroon. There is a very organised system of managing transhumance. The timing of this seasonal pastoral movement, including movement of Nigerian pastoralists crossing into Cameroon, is controlled by the Ministry of Livestock. During the designated period of transhumance, farming activities along transhumance corridors, around watering points and in mixed farming zones are halted. If there is destruction of crops within that period, pastoralists are not liable.
Cameroonian pastoralists have complained that cross-border pastoralists come with diseases, but compulsory vaccination reduces this problem, which might otherwise result in conflict.
In cases where the movement of pastoralists does lead to disputes, there are also mechanisms in Cameroon to prevent and resolve conflict. Where crops are destroyed during transhumance, the Agro-Pastoral Commission, which is a state organ, intervenes to resolve the dispute between farmers and herders.
There are also dialogue platforms which facilitate dialogue between the aggrieved parties to resolve disputes. What is good about these is that the conflict is often resolved at the community level without the involvement of the police or the law courts. Where both parties agree on the findings of the dialogue, this has helped to bring about peaceful coexistence between the farmers and pastoralists.
In the public discourse in Nigeria, the way the media talks about pastoralism and transhumance is negative. They have a blanket term, ‘Fulani herdsman’, which is used widely in the media as a negative stereotype. In Cameroon, the term ‘Fulani herdsman’ isn’t used. If there is destruction, it’s not put on a tribal basis. In Nigeria, the blame is on cattle owners. In Cameroon the blame is more on the herdsman for leaving the cattle loose. When the blame is shifted people understand, they don’t attack whole communities and fewer farmer-herder conflicts are recorded.
When we’re talking about pastoral movements it’s important to understand the context and history. Before the partition of Africa by the colonial masters, there were no borders between Nigeria and Cameroon, there were just kingdoms. So, pastoralists feel that this is their land and that they can graze their livestock anywhere they wish. They also have kinship relationships with other pastoralists across national borders. In my case, the majority of my clan are in Nigeria. But with independence and the creation of states this movement across the borders by pastoralists and their livestock is being restricted.
In the last eight years, pastoralists have started moving in greater numbers from Nigeria into Cameroon and subsequently into the Central African Republic (CAR).
In the past, the population density in Nigeria was much lower. Today, high demographic pressure, coupled with the mechanisation of agriculture, means that more land is needed for crop production and grazing land is being taken away. Land grabbing by elites in traditional grazing areas has worsened the situation. Pressure on land, reduced pasture and watering points, in combination with violent farmer-herder conflicts are pushing pastoralists to move into Cameroon and the Central African Republic. In CAR there is less pressure on land; there are still vast rangelands, water and good pasture.
Some of the pastoralists we interviewed said that CAR is better than where they’d come from even though there is an armed conflict going on. They told us that they can negotiate with armed groups and pay an annual tax to graze their livestock. Nevertheless, at times the conflict in CAR can be disruptive to pastoral activities – when there is difficulty in Central Africa they come back into Cameroon, then when the situation normalises, they go back to Central Africa.
Although pastoral movement is well managed in Cameroon and is generally peaceful, the increase in the number of pastoralists coming in from Nigeria is adding to pressure and tensions in some areas. In the Northern region of Cameroon, where we did part of our fieldwork, availability of land is decreasing. The region is a population hotspot, and with the crisis of Boko Haram, many more people have migrated there from the Extreme North of Cameroon, around Lake Chad. There are also other pressures on land. As more pastoralists cross the border into Cameroon from Nigeria the potential for tension increases.
One source of tension is between migrant herders and agro-pastoralists, who are semi-settled, and who have a little livestock around their farms. They often complain that migrants’ animals come with diseases and sometimes destroy crops. This is a potential source of conflict with agro-pastoralists and with sedentary farmers. If the influx of livestock from Nigeria continues in large numbers, it may lead to violent conflicts in the future.
Recently a lot of mining has been happening along transhumance corridors and around national parks. This is also a cause for concern as mining pits are a death trap for livestock. There is also industrial agriculture, with foreign companies buying up large chunks of land or elites grabbing land along corridors. Palm, cocoa and tea plantations are being created, reducing the available rangelands and pushing more local pastoralists towards Central Africa.
In addition to all the negative impacts, there are positives. Migrant pastoralists have brought wealth to local economies. They have driven down the prices of beef in Cameroon, they buy crops from farmers and stimulate business activities. They also pay taxes to the councils.
Firstly, I think there should be better regional policy to encourage and support cross border transhumance. There is the ECOWAS protocol and African Union Charter on pastoralism, which include rules governing transhumance, but these should be properly enforced. Governments, and individual states, should also be encouraged to have bilateral and trilateral protocols.
There is also an urgent need to improve pastoral infrastructure, particularly in Nigeria. This is where donors and international NGOs can support. Lack of pasture and watering points are the main push factors for pastoralists moving out of Nigeria but a big bore hole in one area can save thousands of migrating cattle. This infrastructure will reduce movement, or at least help with managing movement. This in turn would reduce conflict. It is important that livestock development projects listen to pastoralists’ concerns and priorities and not be determined by the political priorities of elites. Governments should also be encouraged to preserve and restore pastoral zones and support livestock production.
This article was originally published on Conciliation Resources’ website.
