Peacebuilding in Deeply Divided Societies

Rethinking Political Violence

Series Editor Roger Mac Ginty Professor of Peace and Conﬂict Studies University of Manchester Manchester United Kingdom This series provides a new space in which to interrogate and challenge much of the conventional wisdom of political violence. International and multidisciplinary in scope, this series explores the causes, types and effects of contemporary violence connecting key debates on terrorism, insurgency, civil war and peace-making. The timely Rethinking Political Violence offers a sustained and refreshing analysis reappraising some of the fundamental questions facing societies in conﬂict today and understanding attempts to ameliorate the effects of political violence.

More information about this series at http://www.springer.com/series/14499 Fletcher D. Cox • Timothy D. Sisk Editors Peacebuilding in Deeply Divided Societies

Toward Social Cohesion? Editors Fletcher D. Cox Timothy D. Sisk Department of Political Science Josef Korbel School of International William Jewell College Studies Liberty, MO, USA University of Denver Denver, Colorado, USA

Rethinking Political Violence ISBN 978-3-319-50714-9 ISBN 978-3-319-50715-6 (eBook) DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-50715-6

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017935469

© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s) 2017 This work is subject to copyright. All rights are solely and exclusively licensed by the Publisher, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of translation, reprinting, reuse of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on microfilms or in any other physical way, and transmission or information storage and retrieval, electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar methodology now known or hereafter developed. The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are exempt from the relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use. The publisher, the authors and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and information in this book are believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication. Neither the publisher nor the authors or the editors give a warranty, express or implied, with respect to the material contained herein or for any errors or omissions that may have been made. The publisher remains neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and institutional affiliations.

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This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by Springer Nature The registered company is Springer International Publishing AG The registered company address is: Gewerbestrasse 11, 6330 Cham, Switzerland ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

In a major, multi-author, multi-country study such as this there are many acknowledgements to individuals far and wide who contributed their time and insights to this research project on how to build peace in deeply divided societies. Especially important in this regard are the more than 300 interview participants who gave their time, and shared their experiences building peace in conflict-affected communities. Thank you for your support. We would especially like to thank the Henry Luce Foundation Initiative in Religion and Public Affairs for the generous research grant that made this work possible, and in particular Luce Vice- President Toby Volkman was so personally supportive of the research and each policy dialogue. Many individuals supported the work of the authors and contributors, and there are perhaps too many to name. The advisory group, in particular, consultated research teams on methodology, case selection and the assessment framework, and participated in several symposia to validate and refine findings. For their vital advisory work, we thank Abiodun Alao, R. Scott Appleby, Jennifer M. Brinkerhoff, Benoit Challand, Samuel Doe, Nader Hashemi, Sandy Johnson, Azza Karam, Tony Karbo, Francesco Mancini, Rama Mani, Katherine Marshall, Sharon L. Morris, Robert Muggah, Thania Paffenholz, Eugenia Piza-Lopez, Jago Salmon, Andrea Stanton, Andrew Tomlinson, and Necla Tschirgi.

v vi ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

At the Korbel School, we would like to acknowledge especially the invaluable support work of Lauren Allognon, Catherine Orsborn, and Andrew Chiacchierini. We would also like to thank Roger MacGinty, Series editor at Palgrave, and Sarah Roughley, acquisitions editor, for their shepherding of this project into the publication phase. CONTENTS

1 Introduction 1 Fletcher D. Cox, Timothy D. Sisk and Elizabeth Hester

2 Peacebuilding: A Social Cohesion Approach 13 Fletcher D. Cox and Timothy D. Sisk

3 Guatemala: National Fragmentation, Local Cohesion 33 Otto Argueta and Sabine Kurtenbach

4 Kenya: Identity and Insecurity in a Modernizing State 65 Fletcher D. Cox, James Ndung’u and Esther Njuguna

5 Lebanon: Confessionalism, Consociationalism, and Social Cohesion 103 Joy Aoun and Marie-Joëlle Zahar

6 Myanmar: Religion, Identity, and Conﬂict in a Democratic Transition 137 Nicholas Farrelly

7 Nepal: Identity Politics in a Turbulent Transition 175 Subindra Bogati, Fletcher D. Cox, Sachchi Karki and Timothy D. Sisk

vii viii CONTENTS

8 Nigeria: Frustration, Polarization, and Violence 215 Yahaya Hashim, Darren Kew and Judith Ann Walker

9 Sri Lanka: Social Cohesion ...In the Eye of the Beholder 245 Susan Hayward and Mirak Raheem

10 Peacebuilding for Social Cohesion: Findings and Implications 287 Fletcher D. Cox, Catherine Orsborn and Timothy D. Sisk

11 Conclusion 311 Fletcher D. Cox and Timothy D. Sisk

Bibliography 323

Index 337 CHAPTER 1

Introduction

Fletcher D. Cox, Timothy D. Sisk and Elizabeth Hester

Identity-based violence, articulated along religious, ethnic and sectarian lines, presents grave threats to international peace and security. Into the twenty-ﬁrst century, violence in deeply divided societies such as Iraq and Syria, the Central African Republic, Myanmar, Yemen, and Ukraine (to name but a few) grab headlines as war in these countries crystallizes along identity lines, often leading to mass atrocities and near-genocidal

The editors are grateful to Elizabeth Hester for her invaluable research assistance on the social psychology dimensions of fear in deeply divided societies.

F.D. Cox (*) Department of Political Science, William Jewell College, Liberty, MO, USA Sié Chéou Kang Center for International Security and Diplomacy, Korbel School of International Studies, University of Denver, Denver, CO, USA e-mail: [email protected] T.D. Sisk Josef Korbel School of International Studies, University of Denver, Denver, Colorado, USA e-mail: [email protected] E. Hester Denver, CO, USA e-mail: [email protected]

© The Author(s) 2017 1 F.D. Cox, T.D. Sisk (eds.), Peacebuilding in Deeply Divided Societies, Rethinking Political Violence, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-50715-6_1 2 F.D. COX ET AL. violence. In such settings, a once-held putative sense of “living together” evaporates when deadly violence erupts and identity cleavages become principal social fault lines. Absent partition and breakup of current countries, however, when the guns fall silent, citizens in such deeply divided societies must inexorably continue living together in a shared, invariably contested state. Incidents of violence with identity-based dimensions are on the rise. According to a 2014 report by the Pew Research Center, conflicts with ethno-religious dimensions became more prevalent as the twenty-first century unfolded.1 Violent events across a broad range of countries support this finding. Within the current “wave” of religious and ethnic violence globally, conflicts that may begin over other issues – such as in Syria in the context of the Arab Spring demands for regime change in autocratic states – can quickly become ethnic (or in this case, sectarian) in nature (Hashemi and Postel 2016). Inthewakeofsuchconflicts, whether they end in cold truces, negotiated settlements, or in military victories, social divisions that emerged during the conflict not only linger as intractable fault lines but also in some cases they are exacerbated during the course of volatile post-war transitions. Rearranged demographic relationships (such as spatial patterns caused by ethnic targeting or “cleansing”), political organization along ethnic lines, and conflict-coping strategies adopted by individuals seeking security amidst turmoil deepen or create new identity-based social divisions. Similarly, peace agreements, particularly power-sharing pacts, often reinforce ethnic fragmentation as parties-in-conflict seek guarantees of inclusion in the post-conflict order (Sisk 2010). Within deeply divided, conflict-affected countries, the principal threat to already delicate social cohesion2 is the pervasive, societal fear that violence leaves in its wake. Each of the country-level studies in this book shows how violence causes deeply experienced and pervasive fear at individual, community and local levels, and in relationship to the state. Civil war, national, or local political violence reinforces widespread societal fears, especially in conflict-affected areas, and crystallizes informal organizations and civil society (including political parties) along identity lines. In many cases, this leads to heightened physical separation of groups, or to the development of parallel social and political institutions in which individuals, families, and communities find safety or seek to mitigate fear through intra-group “bonding.” Violence drives both inter-group INTRODUCTION 3 differentiation and intra-group bonding as a direct response to pervasive fear. Left unaddressed, pervasive fear becomes the foundation for future threats to fragile peace.

BUILDING PEACE THROUGH SOCIAL COHESION The book explores this critical issue: if the principal threat to already delicate cohesion in deeply divided societies is the pervasive fear that identity-based violence leaves in its wake, what can international and domestic peacebuilders do to help deeply divided societies discover a renewed sense of living together? How can they positively affect social relations in light of politicization of ethnicity in politics and governance using a toolbox of interventions supported by development assistance? Since the early 1990s, international organizations seeking to end conflicts, implement peace agreements, and address the root causes of conflicts have focused their efforts on peacebuilding: multifaceted security, development, and human rights-related interventions designed to prevent conflict recurrence.3 In essence, as seen in the analysis presented in this book, international peacebuilding involves a multifaceted approach to addressing the exigent fears for the future that develop at the level of individual insecurity and between social groups. Peacebuilding work, however, is complex and vexing. International and local peacebuilding alike face a myriad of constraints on their ability to positively affect political systems and societies in the wake of war.4 In the course of war, the state loses legitimacy, experiences declining capacity to provide basic public services, or a party to the conflict captures the state. Civil society organizations that cross-cut identity lines are weakened or in the worst instances cease to exist. In the immediate aftermath of violence, therefore, interveners understandably work with what exists “on the ground.” They often conclude that meeting urgent needs is best furthered by channeling humanitarian and development assistance through informal institutions such as ethnic and faith-based civil society groups or through corrupt, politically captured, and weakened state institutions. Due to these constraints and operational dilemmas, critics of peacebuilding argue external intervention in conflict-affected countries often leads to unintended consequences.5 Whether deliberately or inadvertently, some critical voices contend external actors strengthen ethnic or faith-based forms of service delivery that in turn weaken the state and its legitimacy as a neutral service provider. At times, aid strengthens nationalistic or exclusive social forces at the expense of building cross-cutting, conflict-ameliorating 4 F.D. COX ET AL. ties, which may limit the capacity of the state to expand authority and recover legitimacy. Supporting religious institutions during peace or development efforts, for example, may create “bonding” social capital (strengthening within-group ties) at the expense of supporting a state and a civil society that is based on “bridging” social capital (strengthening between-group ties). Moreover, the “illiberal” nature of some religious institutions may undermine the advancement of global norms, particularly on agendas such as women’s participation and empowerment. In response to such criticisms of peacebuilding in divided societies, international development practitioners have begun to advance the concept of “social cohesion” as both a necessary ingredient for progress toward violence reduction and sustainable peace, and as an important outcome of development efforts. In this book, while we recognize the challenging definitional boundaries of the expansive social cohesion concept, we find it a useful, rigorous, and scholarly informed concept for analyzing contemporary conflict patterns and for informing post-conflict development assistance programming. Fostering social cohesion is an important starting point or “theory of change” perspective for identifying ways in which development assistance providers can have a conflict-sensitive perspective on ostensibly technical service delivery, such as environmental, livelihoods, or gender-based programming. While social cohesion does not resolve all the dilemmas of peacebuilding, which have been identified by scholars and practitioners alike, the concept provides a platform for better analysis of the identity- based dimensions of contemporary armed conflicts. It also holds promise for developing more informed and strategic efforts to positively affect the willingness of populations in post-conflict contexts to live together. Social cohesion is essentially about realizing sustainable peace. Social cohesion has become an attractive approach to peacebuilding among a wide set of international organizations and development practitioners. A new set of agendas for peacebuilding informs research and policy reflection in the area of social cohesion, namely the World Bank’sWorld Development Report (2011) and Societal Dynamics of Fragility (2013), the United Nations Development Program’s(UNDP)2012Governance for Peace report (2012), and the so-called New Deal for Engagement in Fragile States put forward by the “g7+” (2011).6 The social cohesion concept also recurs as a theme throughout the network of peacebuilding organizations – from other international and intergovernmental organizations, to regional organizations, transnational non-governmental organizations (NGOs), and traditional bilateral assistance providers. In line with new INTRODUCTION 5 multilateral agendas, development strategies and policies in conflict-affected countries are moving toward targeting the nexus between state and society, with social cohesion and “strengthening the social contract” as primary aims for international engagement. Particularly, the United Nations (UN) peacebuilding “architecture”–an evolving international regime for preventing, managing, and ending the scourge of war – increasingly sees sustainability as critical to its mission. While peace agreements and peacekeeping are important dimensions of interventions, UN practitioners have realized that sustaining the peace requires long-term interventions that address fundamental social and political relations in conflict-affected countries. Among relevant actors at the UN level are the increasingly deployed “special political missions,” countries on the agenda of the UN Peacebuilding Commission, and a wide range of UN countries teams in countries that are vulnerable to, witnessing, or emerging from armed conflict. Social cohesion has two dimensions, first, the relationships within societies across deep divisions, and, second, the relationship between individuals and groups with the state.7 Within the broader debates on peacebuilding, the cohesion concept is a leitmotif for assessment of social dynamics and as a common strategic goal of interventions to promote resilience to conflict and in recovery when it occurs. Jane Jensen, for example, argues that “in many countries the focus on social cohesion emerged from a recognition that classic neoliberalism had hit a political and ideational wall and was generating negative outcomes such as high levels of poverty. Social cohesion, as a macro-goal to be maintained or fostered, appeared as a consensual substitute [for neoliberalism] across a range of policy communities” (Jenson 2010,p.21).Ina“post- neoliberal” or “post-Washington consensus” environment, in which social policy is being rethought across multiple contexts, “social cohesion” has become a shared concept among academics and policy-makers alike for thinking about how to design public policies and institutions that address the causes and effects of social exclusion, social distrust, and political marginalization.

PRIORITY OF THE POLITICAL:GOVERNANCE AS A PRISM FOR IDENTITY-BASED RELATIONS We argue in this volume that peacebuilding programming and policies aimed at “fostering social cohesion” in deeply divided societies regularly fail to adequately address political dynamics that drive 6 F.D. COX ET AL. fragmentation, fear, and conflict vulnerability. Social cohesion is an attractive concept that we endorse, but as research in this volume shows, progress in peacebuilding requires a priority on the political, or “vertical” dimension, of social cohesion. Without addressing the distortions, institutions, and incentives of governance, many efforts to build cohesion among groups in conflict-affected countries have limited impact. In each of the cases we analyze and compare, politics and governance operates as a prism for identity-based relationships. This finding reinforces earlier research in the comparative politics discipline that demonstrates the critical relationships between ethnic groups, identity and the state.8 Specifically, we find in the study that there is a crucial link between political systems, access to power, and access to resources (public and private) that increases social fragmentation vis-à-vis the sense of “relative deprivation” among highly marginalized groups. Political systems and the “rules of the game” shape various forms of marginalization and impact which groups have access to power. Where political power and access to power to distribute state resources is linked to processes of ethnic mobilization, there are high levels of fragmentation, mistrust, and fear among competing groups. Groups that attain access to political power tend to become highly protectionist – often engaging in deceptive and sometimes violent strategies to maintain control, even over scarce peacebuilding or development resources. Dominant groups that acquired power post-independence tend to hold onto power, using repression and political violence as tactics to prevent marginalized groups from gaining access to power. The historical dominance of single ethnic groups or blocs of larger ethnic coalitions creates deeply entrenched forms of marginalization that are especially volatile, as illustrated by the cases of Guatemala, Kenya, Nigeria, Myanmar, and Sri Lanka. Political and economic institutions that are in place in post-colonial states play a key role in shaping the dynamics of marginalization and determining which groups have or do not have access to political power. These structures make entrenched patterns of identity-based fragmentation and exclusion very difficult to overcome even with the best-designed, well-intentioned peacebuilding interventions. Effectively peacebuilding, therefore, requires reformulating a balance of power and preventing marginalized identity groups from being left out of governance processes and being prevented from access to power. INTRODUCTION 7

CONCEPTUAL ORIENTATION:CONFLICT,FEAR, AND GOVERNANCE IN DEEPLY DIVIDED SOCIETIES The country-level analyses in this book show how violence, captured political institutions, and economic inequalities reinforce deeply experienced and pervasive fear across conflict-affected countries. Civil war, national, or local political violence along identity lines reinforces widespread fears and crystallizes informal social organizations and civil society (including political parties and factions) along identity lines. When such violence occurs, it drives inter-group differentiation and intra-group bonding as a direct response to pervasive fear. Existential threats arise from being identified as a member of a particular group and from potential or real threats of violence, discrimination, marginalization, or targeting from the local manifestation of the state, which should be the ultimate source of protection from fear. As dignity is a basic human need, fear of state-institutionalized marginalization or social disadvantage (or fear of reversal of fortune for dominant groups) gives rise to collective fears of becoming unequal citizens in one’s own country when societal structures are ranked or re-ranked according to “relative group worth.” For national-level cohesion, the state must confirm and advance parity of esteem, distributional fairness, and equitable political participation. At the local level, cohesion depends on inclusivity and freedom from “ranked” micro-societies or pervasive networks centered on identity ties. Fear in conflict-affected communities also leads to greed-based patterns of co-ethnic clientelism. In the wake of violence, fear of future insecurity incentivizes the pursuit of immediate gains. Extreme greed becomes the primary mode of accumulation. Personal and co-ethnic accumulation of wealth and power may be the response of wealthy, influential leaders who engage in predation to address their own existential fears-often by playing the ethnic card. Instrumentalist political mobilization at the hands of greedy ethnic entrepreneurs is unsuccessful unless it can capitalize on more widespread fears broadly shared within entire identity groups. Earlier work on deeply divided societies in the twentieth century suggested that such fear could be contained by providing security guarantees to ethnic groups and structuring the state in a group-based or consociational power-sharing framework (Lijphart 1977). Such approaches do not adequately address the underlying social drivers of conflict, rooted in fear, as they rely on elites to prevent the further conflict along identity lines.9 These findings resonate closely with social psychology literature on the 8 F.D. COX ET AL. origins and manifestations of identity-based fears and problems of mutual perception of threats emanating from outgroups. A number of theoretical approaches to the causes of inter-group prejudice analyze emotional reactions to perceived threats.10 According to these perspectives, threat – bothrealisticandsymbolic– leads to both psychological and behavioral outcomes (Stephan and Renfro 2002). Inter-group emotion theory, for example, posits that individuals understand a situation in terms of the potential harm or benefit to one’s group under conditions when social identity is politically salient (Devos et al. 2002). Individuals tend to move away from and avoid antagonists in situations characterized by weakness and fear (Neuberg and Cottrell 2002; Neuberg and Cotrell 2005). In other words, fear not only persists on a personal level, but also on a societal level with implications as a shared emotion. Due to the inherently stressful and pervasive nature of social conflict and violence, collective fear offers a way to cope with uncertainty and creates mistrust and de- legitimization of groups perceived as opponents (Bar-Tal 2001). Since fear can be unconsciously aroused by a particular cue as a result of stored memories of past emotional experiences, the binding of past and present experiences within collective social fears may cause individuals to auto- matically fear situations that do not necessarily imply threat or danger, overriding rationality and logic systems (Bar-Tal et al. 2007). Deeply divided, conflict-affected societies clearly exhibit collective fear. Findings derived from the research presented in this book support this point of departure. Peacebuilders interested in reducing vulnerability to identity- based violence must focus on managing individual and collective fears as a strategic approach. Countries that have experienced identity-based violence and corresponding peacebuilding interventions provide robust evidence that pervasive fear fosters behaviors that limit the effectiveness of even the most carefully designed and strategic efforts. The chapters in this volume provide evidence for these links among armed conflict and violence, ethnic mobilization, and mutual security fears at individual and collective levels. In such environments, groups contend over control of the state as a means of coping with collective fear, and as an in-group protective strategy. Deep understanding of the origins, pathways, and manifestations of collective fears, therefore, is critical to building sustainable peace. Externally supported and internally led interventions to promote social cohesion must mitigate the root causes of fear. In the country analyses in this book, religion as a form of identity plays a unique role related to dimensions of social fear, with deep implications for INTRODUCTION 9 peacebuilding. The book confirms the “ambivalence” of religion as related to cohesion or fragmentation (see Chapter 2), but, more importantly, stresses that religion plays a unique role in societies impacted by violence and working to re-establish foundations for social cohesion. At the communal level, religious institutions (of multiple varieties in what has become an expanding, and global religious marketplace) are deeply embedded in society and are powerful institutions that make appeals for unity that bridges familial, ethnic, class, or other social divisions. Religious groups and faith-based organizations span well beyond state borders, and are often the very first actors to respond to episodes of crises and conflict. As such, religion structures societies in unique ways that donors regularly fail to account for. At the individual level, religion(s) address existential threats through sacred texts, processes of interpretation and religious practice that can function to reduce individual-level fear of “the Other.” Such forms of identity may not necessarily have the same capacity to deal with the psychological dynamics of trauma and reconciliation. At the national level, religious identity often matters more than other forms of identity (race, class, language, clan, etc.) due to the content of religious systems. Religions have very diverse sets of ideals related to the organization of government, how power should be exercised in society, who should lead, and how perpetrators of violence should be dealt with. All of these factors matter greatly within peace processes. Minority groups can become especially fearful when the content of a legal system contradicts religious belief, or fails to ensure protection of religious values. Minority groups often remain well organized and mobilized for potential conflict when they fear another group will construct a society that constrains their right to practice religion or other forms of ritual related to the group’s identity. For these reasons, the study emphasizes assessment of religious actors and organizations within various conflict settings without prejudging whether and how religion is defined or plays a role in social relations and in governance. The chapters that follow, particularly, bear out the complexities and context specific findings related to religion, conflict, and peacebuilding.11

STRUCTURE OF ANALYSIS Focusing on the principal research puzzle, case studies by leading international scholars and “global South” researchers yield in-depth analyses of social cohesion and related peacebuilding efforts in seven countries: Guatemala, Kenya, Lebanon, Nepal, Nigeria, Myanmar, and Sri Lanka. 10 F.D. COX ET AL.

First, the book presents an argument for the social cohesion lens in understanding and evaluating peacebuilding interventions in deeply divided, conflict-affected countries. A conceptual chapter defines the social cohesion concept more fully, and a succinct literature review informs the presentation of a common country-level assessment framework. Drawing on the scholarly literature on deeply divided societies and on peacebuilding, the project team developed a country-level assessment guide that was reviewed by a 20-person advisory group of leading scholars and policy practitioners. The methodology follows the approach of a structured, focused comparison of seven cases where international actors have aimed to reshape relationships among identity groups that played a role in violent conflict. The seven country analyses capture regional variation, variation of ethnic divisions and religious traditions, and a variety of donor approaches to peacebuilding and statebuilding.12 Second, seven in-depth country-level analyses present findings of the research teams, which collectively conducted in-country analysis. Based on the common assessment guide derived from the literature, each of the case studies explores the nature of and challenges to social cohesion in various contexts. Each case analyzes: the role of religious and ethnic communities, organizations, and movements in reinforcing or mitigating social divisions that drive instability and conflict vulnerability; the extent and nature of donor-sponsored projects that engage diverse communities in national and local peace processes; the direct and indirect approaches, programs, and projects through which external actors have sought to build social cohesion through aid-funded projects; and lessons learned on the extent to which aid-funded cooperative relationships between identity-based communities and government may advance social cohesion and facilitate sustainable peace. Overall, the field research component involved over 330 participants, including individual interviews and focus group dialogues with local analysts and international policy practitioners together with site visits to peacebuilding programs addressing issues of social cohesion. Field researches engaged with a broad spectrum of actors including government officials, religious leaders, scholars, local peacebuilders and NGO/civil society organization program managers, representatives of the development aid community, and UN actors. Research teams, then, used interview data to write case-study reports outlining the particular dynamics of the external intervention in relation to social cohesion in each case. INTRODUCTION 11

Third, the penultimate chapter by the editors presents cross-case findings across the cases, and a conclusion reiterates the principal argument about the utility and limitations of the social cohesion approach. Overall, we find that three principal approaches emerge as essential for fighting fear of political, economic, and social marginalization: cultural norms and historical narratives that provide for parity of esteem (or non-discrimination), distributive policies that addresses historical marginalization and inequalities, often through “pro-poor” public policies and institutions that ensure human rights protections to all individuals and guarantees to the most vulnerable groups. Without the pledge and effort of the state at the vertical level of social cohesion to eradicate horizontal inequalities, and to provide all groups assurances of security at the social level, collective fears will create persistent conflict vulnerability, horizontal or societal social cohesion will remain elusive.

NOTES 1. Pew Research Center, Religious Hostilities Reach Six-Year High, January 14, 2014, http://www.pewforum.org/2014/01/14/religious-hostilities- reach-six-year-high/. 2. Social cohesion – a critical concept for this book – is defined more fully in Chapter 2. 3. For an evaluation of the peacebuilding term in its various dimensions, see Vincent Chetail, ed., Post-Conflict Peacebuilding: A Lexicon, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009. 4. See Jarstad and Sisk (2008) and Paris and Sisk (2009). 5. Much of the scholarly debate has begun to describe approaches and outcomes in conflict-affected countries in terms of hybridity: a mélange of institutions that includes the formal state along with informal organizations, networks, and institutions. See, for instance, MacGinty (2010). 6. See, e.g., International Dialogue on Peacebuilding and Statebuilding (2011). 7. Please see Chapter 2 for a more full articulation of the vertical and horizontal dimensions of social cohesion that inform our definition. 8. See, e.g., Brass (1985) and Rothchild and Olonrunsola (1983). 9. On elite accommodation as the basis of the consociational formula, through the so-called self-negating prediction in which elites are compelled to compromise to avoid violence, see du Toit (1989). 10. For a review of literature that expands categorization of prejudice beyond a general attitude, see, Mackie and Smith (2002). 12 F.D. COX ET AL.

11. See Omer et al. (2015). 12. Case selection for this volume involved an initial set of possible cases chosen for variation across three dimensions: extent of expected identity-based cleavages within society, regional variation, and variation in the approaches of international and local peacebuilders. The initial selection was reviewed and amended by the participation of an international advisory group of scholars and practitioners who convened for a three-day conference in 2012 to evaluate the conceptual approach, comparative research methodology and case selection, and the country-level assessment framework that appears at the end of Chapter 2.

Fletcher D. Cox is an Assistant Professor of Political Science at William Jewell College, and a Research Associate of the Sié Chéou Kang Center for International Security and Diplomacy at the Korbel School of International Studies, University of Denver. He specializes in the study of civil wars, political violence, and peacebuilding in divided societies, and has managed relief, development, and peacebuilding programs in multiple disaster and conﬂict settings.

Timothy D. Sisk is Professor of International and Comparative Politics at the Josef Korbel School of International Studies, University of Denver; his research and writing is focused on areas of democracy and governance, conﬂict analysis, and international engagement in conﬂict-affected countries.

Elizabeth Hester is a recent graduate of the Josef Korbel School MA Program in Conﬂict Resolution with a specialization on the neuropsychology of peacebuilding; she works as an independent researcher and analyst. CHAPTER 2

Peacebuilding: A Social Cohesion Approach

Fletcher D. Cox and Timothy D. Sisk

External engagement to promote social cohesion in conflict-affected countries remains perplexing in light of the wide variety of experience in the contemporary, post–Cold War, post-9/11 era and in to the twenty-first century. In some instances outsiders appear to have unwittingly reinforced social divisions, both intentionally and unintentionally, while seeking quick access for aid delivery or to institute development and peacebuilding programs in deeply divided, conflict- affected regions. External assessment of Norway’s decade-long effort to foster peace in war-torn Sri Lanka, for example, found that the use of development aid in conflict-affected communities was highly complicated. The study, conducted by the Bergen-based Christian Michelsen Institute, found that in addition to high-level mediation, development aid caused social fragmentation and contributed to conflict escalation

© The Author(s) 2017 13 F.D. Cox, T.D. Sisk (eds.), Peacebuilding in Deeply Divided Societies, Rethinking Political Violence, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-50715-6_2 14 F.D. COX AND T.D. SISK in this case. Norway’s high-level mediation efforts not only “failed” to reach a negotiated settlement to end direct hostilities, efforts to use aid to build peace inadvertently strengthened conflict actors and increased inter-group tension. Particularly, aid deployed in the wake of the devastating 2004 tsunami had unintended social effects that undermined the broader pursuit of peace.1 In other instances, outsiders designed and instituted programs that effectively fostered inter-group tolerance, consensus building, and, in effect, social cohesion (Smock 2006). As in immediate post-war Sri Lanka, and in many other conflict- affected countries, working with identity-based organizations bedevils international donors and implementing partners seeking to balance humanitarian imperatives, practical aid-delivery realities, and peace and development goals (MacGinty 2010). For example, in Guatemala, internal and international peacebuilders have struggled to promote social cohesion through national dialogue, transitional justice, and indigenous-group empowerment programming. To date, deep inequalities along identities lines, indigenous-group mobilization, and persistent threats to human security challenge social cohesion. In Kenya, recent acts of symbolic violence have undermined social cohesion, and a collective sense of common destiny remains elusive. Political elites continue to fan the flames of ethnic discontent for political gain, effectively undermining donor-supported institutional reforms such as devolution, and new electoral systems at national and local levels intentionally designed to promote social cohesion. Nigeria is a key testing ground for donor support for peacebuilding and social cohesion-related efforts among conflicting groups, even as the Islamist group Boko Haram has escalated attacks. The case includes examples of both successes in failures as various actors and organizations have employed a broad range of peacebuilding strategies. Myanmar recently opened its borders to donors, generating a large influx of actors working at the nexus of peacebuilding and statebuilding to reduce identity-based conflict across the state. Analysis suggests that peacebuilding efforts remain largely uncoordinated and ad hoc, indicating external intervention might be playing a role in deepening social divisions in some regions of the country. Careful assessment and comparative analysis, therefore, is essential for identifying the conditions under which some efforts exacerbate conflict inducing social divisions, while others do not. PEACEBUILDING: A SOCIAL COHESION APPROACH 15

DEFINING SOCIAL COHESION Social cohesion is a not merely a classic social science concern (Durkheim 1951). Current approaches to peacebuilding in deeply divided societies argue that “state-society disequilibria,” or an imbalance between society’s expectations and the state’s capacity to meet those expectations, is a principal source of conflict and violence (OECD 2010). In the social cohesion literature, multifaceted social exclusion and marginalization operates as a fundamental source of religious and ethnic mobilization and social and state disorder ...often leading to violent encounters. Pearlman, for example, builds a strong case that intra-group cohesion among identity-based groups may limit the likelihood of violent encounters (Pearlman 2011; Pearlman and Cunningham 2012).2 As such, a broad range of theories serve as foundations for the idea that seeking to engineer, foster, or elicit “social cohesion” is a legitimate and strategic way for internal and international peacebuilders to both combat social exclusion and strengthen state–society relations in order to reduce conflict vulnerability and create more “resilient” states (Marc et al. 2013).3 Its strength as an emerging, shared international policy concept is also its potential weakness. With expansive use, it faces the problem of becoming a concept without analytical distinction: a “quasi-concept” or hybrid term to help bridge academic work and policy debates similar to other social science terms such as “social capital,”“institutions,” or even “globalization” that are used so broadly that they are commonly misun- derstood, limiting capacity for comparison. In efforts to address these concerns, precision in definitions is paramount. Building from the works on social capital, a broad range of scholars and policy-making institutions have sought to develop a succinct definition of social cohesion that can be operationalized for empirical research (Berger-Schmitt 2000;Jenson2010). In this volume, we build on the definition and framework of Chan et al. in seeking to define what many consider a rather nebulous concept (Chan et al. 2006). Chan and col- leagues define social cohesion as, “a state of affairs concerning both the vertical [state-society] and the horizontal interactions among members of society [actors, groups, organizations, institutions] as characterized by a set of attitudes and norms that includes trust, a sense of belonging and the willingness to participate and help, as well as their behavioral manifestations” (p. 290). Social cohesion, therefore, is an endogenous property of any given society within any level of the international system 16 F.D. COX AND T.D. SISK

(e.g., city, state, or region) at a given point in time. This approach provides a strong conceptual approach for moving from concept to empirical assessment. Based on this definition, Chan et al. operationalize social cohesion vis- à-vis two dimensions, “horizontal” and “vertical,” and two components, “objectivity” and “subjectivity.” The objective level of analysis focuses on the nature of observable points of contact or the sites of access between the state and society; it looks at the ways in which the state establishes various institutions and incentive structures within which religious and ethnic actors and organizations operate. The subjective level directs attention toward values, attitudes, and beliefs that social actors develop toward the state and toward other ethnic and religious groups within the state. The subjective level focuses on the nature of ethnic and religious identity construction, or the processes through which ethno-religious identity emerges in the context of historical struggles and contention and the subsequent ideals of the nation that are reflected within state institutions. The social cohesion concept relates to work on social capital and civil society. Putnam, for instance, from a culturalist perspective, argues that social capital has a historical–cultural dimension in particular societies and makes a case that high levels of social capital are directly related to successful governance (Putnam et al. 1994). Coleman, in contrast, from a game- theoretical perspective, discards Putnam’s notion of social capital as having a cultural component and looks solely at how social networks, understood as webs of social interconnections, help build confidence in future action and decrease transaction costs (Coleman 1994). Teorell et al., however, in contrast to Putnam and Coleman, contend social capital is endogenous to political systems (2006). That is, levels of social trust are not completely culturally determined or based on rational choice; rather, the internal characteristics of different combinations of political and social institutions either foster or suppress levels of social trust within different contexts. This perspective on social cohesion informs the conceptual approach of this book. Contemporary theories of political behavior seek to understand the interactive relationship between individual and contextual variables and there is movement toward combining multiple theories to explain different types of participation in the “authoritative allocation of values in society” (Easton 1975,435).Forexample,inlinewiththe work of Ashutosh Varshney (2002) on civic groups in divied societies, Sisk confirms, “Rights-based approaches and norms, symbols, and measures that promote ‘parity of esteem’ are seen in societies that PEACEBUILDING: A SOCIAL COHESION APPROACH 17 also witness the evolution of an institutionally structured, integrated civil society that cuts across religious, sectarian, and doctrinal lines” (Sisk 2012,238).4 In contrast, the literature on social cohesion emerging from policy- oriented institutions working in conflict-affected countries such as the World Bank, OECD-DAC, and United Nation (UN), inter alia, employs a third dimension: institutions and governance. Easterly et al., for instance, in an assessment of the linkages between social cohesion, institutions, and development, provide a basic definition of social cohesion as, “the nature and extent of social and economic divisions within society” (Easterly et al. 2006). They argue that particular socioeconomic divisions function as key constraints on government leaders, especially in low- income countries working toward institutional reform. Different types of social cleavages may constrain or enable politicians’ choices (determine “room to maneuver”), which affects whether states can actually improve the quality of their institutions. From this perspective, social fragmentation has important implication not only for conflict dynamics (often as a putative “root cause”), but for economic performance and growth.5 Overall, contemporary research related to social cohesion clearly explores the “multidimensionality” of the concept and aims to understand the relationship between social divisions, conflict, and development dynamics in countries emerging from war.

WHY GOVERNANCE MATTERS FOR SOCIAL COHESION In the pursuit of understanding vertical and horizontal social cohesion, there is broad consensus that institutions matter. The United Nations Development Program (UNDP) approach to fostering social cohesion emphasizes an institutional dimension of social cohesion. Its principal policy document on social cohesion programming contends, “social cohesion is about tolerance of, and respect for, diversity (in terms of religion, ethnicity, economic situation, political preferences, sexuality, gender and age) – both institutionally and individually.”6 In line with new definitions emerging from the development literature, Jensen finds that in both academic and policy conversations social “cohesion” is the end product of policies designed to: (a) engage groups commonly excluded and marginalized in societies; (b) increase social capital (vis-à-vis networks [bonding, bridging, and linking]), trust, belonging, and participation); 18 F.D. COX AND T.D. SISK and (c) developing responsive and effective formal state institutions (Woolcock 2002). Within the neo-institutionalist approach, however, informal institutions are commonly relegated behind formal institutions for understanding and explaining a broad spectrum of issues (Helmke and Levitsky 2004). Research tends to focus on how formal bureaucratic institutions incentivize political behavior, trajectories of economic development, international trade, statebuilding, and democratization. However, when informal institutions are evaluated in detail, especially in “fragile” states, it becomes evident that they play very important roles in shaping political and economic systems and are fundamental factors for understanding formal institutional evolution, stability, and change (Jütting 2007). Policy-makers also suggest that paying close attention to informal institutions in fragile states is crucial for attaining positive outcomes. Michael Ignatieff, for example, argues that, “international action should be seen first and foremost as facilitating local processes, providing resources and creating the space for local actors to start a conversation that will define and consolidate their polity by mediating their vision of a good life into responsive, robust, and resilient institutions.”7 In other words, international actors must allow local, informal institutions to shape the development of formal institutions in cases of fragility rather than vice versa. Thus, there are a number of ongoing debates over the extent to which the informal matters relative to the formal, the issue of “hybridity,” how international actors shape domestic institutional change, and whether informal institutions tend to lead to “good” or “bad” development outcomes. Where formal (state) or informal (social) intermediaries are not legitimate, inclusive, or effective, conflict can escalate and unfold largely without restriction; thus, international engagement remains pivotal. However, external aid does not clearly translate into either peace or development. In conflict-affected societies, outsiders face extremely difficult challenges fostering social and institutional change required to overcome vulnerability to conflict with religious dimensions. Given the fact that “development” inherently requires institutional change, there are invariably arenas of instability, periods of social “incohesion” or “disintegration,” and conflict among social actors over how to reorient institutions and power structures. In these gaps, it is unclear whether the primary external approach of fostering locally driven development that addresses concrete needs vis-à-vis mechanisms for collaborative social engagement PEACEBUILDING: A SOCIAL COHESION APPROACH 19 among different ethno-religious groups, will, in fact, have a lasting impact on limiting social violence along all social cohesion dimensions: horizontally, and vertically. Development aid organizations have engaged religious organizations at many levels: in national-level dialogue projects (as in Guatemala or Lebanon), in regional and local programs where inter-group violence has been especially acute (as in Kosovo, Sudan, and Indonesia), or in interfaith dialogues that bring together religious leaders in a collective call for peace and social development (as in Northern Nigeria or Kenya following the election-related violence in 2007–2008). Development partners have employed both direct approaches, such as sponsoring dialogue initiatives that directly engage ethnic religious actors, and indirect approaches that focus on broader dynamics or deeply rooted drivers of conflict and instability. Different forms of intervention that have been undertaken in deeply divided, conflict-affected countries to redress root causes of violence may have different levels of capacity to improve social cohesion. In particular, indirect approaches may have longer- lasting impact and help overcome many of the dilemmas of external intervention.

EXAMINING SOCIAL COHESION THROUGH COUNTRY-LEVEL ANALYSIS One of the dominant trends in civil wars, globally, is the rapid “internationalization” of intra-state conflicts (Themnér and Peter Wallensteen 2014). Social cohesion dynamics, therefore, even at the domestic level of analysis, must be assessed in relationship to international factors. This is due to the fact that, today, external actors and organizations are more deeply engaged than ever before in international efforts to control, manage, and ameliorate conditions conducive to the outbreak of armed conflict. Within peacebuilding interventions, as Zahar states, “new relations between locals and internationals introduce new resources and strategies into existing social, political, and economic processes” (Zahar 2012b, 77). External interventions create situations where local actors daily navigate overlapping local, state, and international institutional systems. Assessing the dynamics of social cohesion in post-conflict contexts, therefore, also requires understanding how international factors affect state and local 20 F.D. COX AND T.D. SISK contexts and increase or decrease vulnerability to identity-based conflict. This represents a key innovation from the project: an assessment framework that accounts both for local or country-level dynamics and the effects of external intervention, or “domestic–international interactions,” in the analysis of root social conditions driving conflict vulnerability. Therefore, drawing on the scholarly literature on deeply divided societies and on peacebuilding, the project team employed a country-level assessment guide that was reviewed by a 20-person advisory group of leading scholars and policy practitioners – particularly those from UN peacebuilding entities – together with several high-level symposia in which preliminary and integrated results were presented for validation and refinement. The advisory group also worked through carefully the consideration of case selection and the methodology of pairing international and local researchers for the in-depth analyses. Based on the common assessment guide, each case study country-level analysis that follows explores the nature of and challenges to social cohesion in various contexts. The role of ethnic and religious communities, organizations, and movements in reinforcing or mitigating social divisions that drive instability is analyzed, along with the extent and nature of donor-sponsored projects engaging diverse communities in national and local dialogues, and other direct and indirect programs or projects through which external actors sought to build social cohesion. The assessment framework is provided in the appendix.

APPENDIX 1: COUNTRY-LEVEL ASSESSMENT FRAMEWORK

Historical Context

• How have previous experiences of war, civil war, or mass violence shaped contemporary social cleavages? • What are key historical factors that display “path dependence” in this case? That is, to what extent do colonial era administration practices, boundaries, land tenure regimes, or resource extraction strategies, inter alia, impact contemporary social cleavages? • Have past leaders instituted direct “nationbuilding” policies and reforms? If so, were they successful in generating a more cohesive national identity? PEACEBUILDING: A SOCIAL COHESION APPROACH 21

Proximate Context

• What are the main conflict trends and patterns in this case (e.g., cycles of election-related ethnic violence; urban or rural ethno-communal riots; symbolic, religious violence; inter-personal violence; gender- based violence; small arms violence; armed robbery)? • What are the principal findings from extant conflict vulnerability and risk assessment analysis with regard to the underlying drivers of conflict (e.g., inequality, poverty, youth unemployment, ethnic competition over land or other economic resources.)? • In post–civil war cases, how was the conflict “terminated,” and what is the nature of the political settlement, or peace agreement? • Under what mandates are international actors currently operating in the country?

SOCIAL AND ECONOMIC DIMENSIONS:RELATIONSHIPS WITHIN CIVIL SOCIETY

Overall Assessment

• What is the overall pattern of society in terms of identity-based groups? • What is the structure and nature of religious identity? How signiﬁcant is religious difference in relation to other identity-based cleavages? • What is the organizational structure of dominant religious institutions (e.g., hierarchical and bureaucratic versus acephalous and localized)? • What is the nature of national identity? Is it more of a civic identity, or related to a particular ethno-religious identity? • Is there a higher degree of ethnic nationalism or civic nationalism? Are rights based on ethnicity or citizenship?

Demographic and Socioeconomic Patterns: Horizontal Inequalities

• What are the principal underlying drivers or patterns of deprivation, poverty, and inequality? Are there demographic pressures on scarce resources? High levels of population movement? Rural–urban migration? Food insecurity? 22 F.D. COX AND T.D. SISK

• To what extent, and how, do demographic factors affect conflict dynamics? What evidence relates to the effects of a youth bulge? Is there demography-related high unemployment among particular sectors, regions, or identity groups? • What is the general nature of income inequality in the state (GINI coefficient)? Does poverty overlap with ethnic divisions? To what degree do ethnic divisions permeate the economy? Does the structure of the economic system cause some groups to benefit more than others? Do some groups tend to specialize in particular economic activities (e.g., pastoralist – agriculturalist division)? • What is the nature of access to employment in the private sector and the public sector? Are appointments to public positions made based on ethnic-group affiliation? • Has the country experienced a recent economic shock or transition (e.g., rapid privatization and liberalization)? What is the trajectory of change in the economy? Are ethnic groups agitating for particular economic policies for recovery? • What types of social safety nets are available for minority groups? How functional are they? To what extent are non-state systems and donors providing such services, rather than the state? • To what extent and in what manner are formal wealth-sharing agreements or distributional formulas in place to ensure equitable allocation of resources among identity-based groups? Is there low tax extraction capacity and lack of a “tax mediated social contract”? • Is there a large “shadow economy” that provides a large population with subsistence? Within the “shadow” or “informal economy” do business networks function along ethnic fissures? • What is the role of private sector companies: are particular ethnic groups directly harmed by or excluded from benefits of an extractive industry? • Do particular resource production practices (or government policies toward production) generate environmental degradation, food insecurity, or rising resource scarcity that could increase horizontal inequalities? PEACEBUILDING: A SOCIAL COHESION APPROACH 23

SOCIAL AND ECONOMIC CONDITIONS:PERCEPTIONS AND ATTITUDES WITH CIVIL SOCIETY

Overall Assessment

• Is there evidence of a recent process through which there has been “invention of enmity” among competing ethnic or religious groups? Or, are there “long antagonisms” and “ancient hatreds” among ethno-religious groups? Or, are there new forms of “modern hatreds” emerging due to political or economic change? • How do the actors deﬁne stories of “historical injustice” among ethnic groups? Are there particular historical injustices that groups believe have never been reconciled? • Do political elites have power over mechanisms that operate to “construct” ethnic identities such as the media or using political platforms to promote metaphors, myths that create “imagined communities,” or help shape an “enemy image” of other ethnic groups? • What are the conclusions of social surveys or other attitudinal studies on measures such as social distance, social capital/trust in society/ trust in government? How do these measures converge or vary along a wide range of social criteria (region, age, rural/urban, home language use)?

Patterns of Ethnic Politics

• Are ethnic groups highly concentrated within particular areas, or are they dispersed across the state within various urban areas? • Do elites appeal to a mythical place, space, or “homeland”? • Do state leaders have “enemy perceptions” of other ethnic groups? • Is there an “irredentist” element in domestic politics? That is, do elites make ethnicity a force for mobilization by engaging another state that is supposedly oppressing an ethnic group living outside of the home country’s borders? • Do particular ethnic groups seek self-determination or sovereignty over a particular area? 24 F.D. COX AND T.D. SISK

Social Mobilization and Organization

• Is there evidence of strong, voluntary, crosscutting civil society groups (e.g., within labor markets or community activism)? • Is there a high degree of “collective efﬁcacy”? That is, to what extent do groups have access to effective community-based institutions for the management of conﬂicts? • Do marginalized ethnic groups have venues through which to voice grievances? If so, to what extent are such grievances actually addressed? • To what extent do minority groups have the ability to organize and act politically? • Do ethnic groups have standing paramilitaries, or are they quickly able to organize of youth militias for violent purposes?

POLITICAL DIMENSIONS:STATE–SOCIETY RELATIONSHIPS

Overall Assessment

• Does the state have the capacity to support effective police institutions? Does the capacity and effectiveness of policing extend to periphery regions? • Under conditions of state fragility, do particular groups face an “ethnic security dilemma”? • Are state institutions more “exclusivist” or “accommodationist” regarding ethnicity? • If accommodationist, is the model “liberal”? That is, neutral regarding ethnic identity, or “centripetal”– “encouraging cross- group cooperation” to mitigate ethnic conﬂict? • Or, if accommodationist, is the model “consociational”? That is, not neutral toward ethnicity, and the state recognizes ethnicity and creates institutions to manage diverse ethnic interests directly, trying to preserve, not erode ethnic identity. • Are there “centripetal” or “consociational” institutions that seek to constrain or enable multiethnic party formation? • Are there power-sharing institutions in place (e.g., consociationalism or federalism) such that ethnic elites must cooperate with elites from PEACEBUILDING: A SOCIAL COHESION APPROACH 25

opposing ethnic groups? What is the extent of cross-cutting political participation? Do multiethnic parties win elections? • Do some ethnic groups have more or less control over policy-making processes than others? • Has there been effort at direct, post-conﬂict “institutional engineering” for the particular conﬂict context? If so, is it working in this case?

Political Institutions and Elite Behavior

• How deeply are ethnic divisions institutionalized within the state apparatus? • To what extent do state institutions shape the actions of political elites? To what extent do formal state institutions constrain or enable interactions that create exclusion or cohesion? • Do “predatory elites” use extant social divisions to mobilize political support, or, “direct public frustration away from their own exploita- tive behavior”? • Do elites use power and institutions of the state to protect and promote the interests of their own group over the interests of others? • Does the dominant group in political power use control policies and “brute force” (to suppress all actions of minority ethnic group); or does it try to use “selective control” (suppressing only “ethnic political activity”)? • What are the dynamics of the relationship between moderate vs. hard line elites? Are there ethnic elite “spoilers” in the peace process? Has the state sought to incorporate “spoilers” into the state apparatus?

Political Institutions: Electoral Politics

• Which of the three major categories does the state’s electoral system fall under: proportional representation, majoritarian, or mixed? What are the “mechanical effects” of the system – how do votes translate into seats? What is the degree of proportionality (electoral threshold and electoral formula)? What is the size of districts – the distance between citizens and representatives? What 26 F.D. COX AND T.D. SISK

type of voting list has been selected for the ballot structure? What are other unique features of the system: nomination rules, candidacy, party restrictions, etc.? • What types of representational biases, if any, are built into the system? • How does the electoral system map – boundary demarcation and districting – relate to social divisions? Is the electoral system likely to promote “bridging” or “bonding strategies” in political parties to gain seats? • To what extent do incumbent political elites “play the ethnic card” in order to maintain power and garner political support from more extremist ethnic political groups? To what extent do elites employ ethnicity as a means to maintain or gain political power? Is the use of ethnic rhetoric a successful strategy for political entrepreneurs? • What incentives does the electoral system create for the military and rebel movements to participate in political processes?

POLITICAL DIMENSIONS:STATE–SOCIETY PERCEPTIONS AND ATTITUDES

Overall Assessment

• What is the nature of the current political discourse around “social cohesion” and nationalism in the case? According to leaders and party rhetoric, who will and will not be part of the developing nation? • What are the dominant political narratives? Do they involve hate speech, stereotyping, and ethnic propaganda? • Do political elites use ethnic conﬂicts as reference points to mobilize support for particular purposes, such as the extension of state power to periphery regions or the mobilization of new constituencies? • To what extent is the state perceived as neutral – seeking to manage and regulate ethnic conﬂict (less vulnerability); or is the state perceived to be hegemonic – primarily promoting the interests of the dominant ethnic group (abusing state apparatus to conduct violence against or exclude minorities)? PEACEBUILDING: A SOCIAL COHESION APPROACH 27

• Is there, in general, a strong or a weak state structure (a predatory state, or perhaps a history of “prebendalism”?) • To what degree have ethnic or religious identities become interrelated with a conceptualization of the nation and the state? Do religious and ethnic ideals in the country tend to inform more constructive or more destructive forms of nationalism?

Political Institutions: Inclusivity Analysis

• Is political participation inclusive? That is, can all groups of society equally participate in elections and politics? • Are there protections (liberties and freedoms) for individuals to express diverse views and participate in the state in diverse ways? • Is the country experiencing a particular stage of democratization? How does the sequencing and pathway of the transition process affect actor calculations of uncertainty and their political future?

Political Institutions: Public Administration and Public Policy

• What is the nature of service delivery by the state, and in what ways do service-delivery issues affect social cohesion at the national, regional, or local level? • Is there a high degree of clientelism or patronage with the public administration system? That is, are state resources, jobs, and contracts allocated on an ethnic basis? • Are there rules-of-law within the state where cross-cutting cleavages have been institutionalized? That is, are there language laws, or laws around religion that overlap or cross-cut ethnic division and help foster more centrist political behavior? • Does the justice system and rule of law extend protections to all groups? How are the legal structure for minority rights and religious tolerance perceived in society? • How does language policy affect social interactions? • Are there ethnic divisions that permeate the formal state military structure? 28 F.D. COX AND T.D. SISK

INTERNATIONAL–DOMESTIC INTERACTIONS

Transnational Dynamics

• Has prior conflict created a transnational refugee or IDP crisis? To what extent is immigration or internal migration a divisive issue in the state? • Are there spillover effects from other conflict or fragile environments in the region? • What are the political economy dynamics of resettlement and returnees in post-conflict environment? • What roles do diaspora groups play in the conflict? Do they promote conflict via emotional, ideational or material support? How does the diaspora affect identity construction in the conflict? What extent do they try to affect domestic politics (military, economic, diplomacy)? Are there particularly successful diaspora groups that fuel tension in the country? • Is this a case of “irredentism”–that is, does the government claim sovereignty over foreign territory where a dominant ethnic group resides? • Do other states have interests in undermining the regime by empowering minority ethnic groups? Is direct external support provided to extremists or rebel movements?

Development Cooperation Actor Analysis

• What is the nature and extent of international engagement through development cooperation? What is the structure of the intervention and its changing terms over time? To what extent does the state have autonomy to determine or direct international development cooperation? • To what extent are there regional or global powerful states with external, international economic interests, diplomatic interests, and/or military/strategic interests at stake? • Was there a coercive external intervention to end direct ethnic violence (NATO, UN, peacekeepers?)? • Does the regional or international structure constrain or enable the actions of government elites? Do international institutions (e.g., ICC) limit the use of ethnic propaganda and repressive policies? PEACEBUILDING: A SOCIAL COHESION APPROACH 29

• Has there been direct military intervention that seeks to shift the ethnic balance of power? Who are the main multilateral international organizations involved in conflict stabilization and post conflict recovery efforts? Are there particular NGO actors that play large roles in the conflict? What are their interests and core competencies? • To what extent and in what manner have international development actors incorporated conflict assessment and social-cohesion objectives directly in their overall strategy, program, and/or project design? Is aid directed at particular local groups or particular regions as part of an articulated strategy for social cohesion? • What are the primary interventions that aim to directly improve social cohesion at the level of civil society (e.g., dialogue, local peacebuilding, etc.)? What are the primary interventions that aim to indirectly improve social cohesion at the level of the state (e.g., governance reforms, aid to marginalized groups, etc.)? • To what extent and with what effect has there been systematic assessment of conflict dynamics among IOs? Do interventions for peace align with the main conflict drivers? Or with interests of external interveners? • Have state interests or budget constraints hindered an adequate intervention? What were the dynamics of ongoing third party mediation and diplomacy/negotiation? • How have external actors sought to foster confidence-building measures such as elections, power-sharing, or territorial autonomy? • What kinds of external norms are promoted within the intervention and to what effect? Is there evidence of norm transmission? UN rights-based approach? Role of Women (e.g., Resolution 1820)? Use of social cohesion language in national laws and institutions? • What are the specific elements that could inform understanding of the conditions under which aid interacts with informal institutions to contribute to social cohesion?

Perceptions of Donor Engagement

• What is role of NGOs within conﬂict environment? What are the perceived effects of external and/or internal efforts to promote social cohesion? • Do external actors have the capacity and willingness to alleviate minority fears? 30 F.D. COX AND T.D. SISK

• Is there evidence of competition over aid resources? Are there distributional effects of aid? • Do some targeted groups perceive to benefit more from interventions than others? Is there evidence of an aid “bubble” (e.g., large influx of aid that creates price spikes, unequal salary structures, unsustainable economy)? • Do NGOs have adequate resources to create conditions more likely for successful resolution of ethnic conflict? • Is there clear evidence that has external engagement has increased or decreased conflict vulnerability?

PRINCIPAL FINDINGS AND LESSONS LEARNED

• What can be said about the general nature of social cohesion in the country under consideration? • What lessons have development practitioners learned on effective and ineffective forms of social cohesion programming? • What are the speciﬁc lessons in terms of: (a) overall strategy of donor cooperation and interaction with the host government; (b) program design and interaction among programmatic interventions; and (c) project design, particularly for sustainability and capacity development?

NOTES 1. Gunnar Sørbø, Jonathan Goodhand, Bart Lem, Ada Elisabeth Nissen, and Hilde Selbervik, Pawns of Peace: Evaluation of Norwegian Peace Efforts in Sri Lanka, Bergen, Norway: Christian Michelsen Institute (September 2011). http://www.cmi.no/file/?1429. 2. See also Huang et al. (2008). 3. Work in this area is informed by a new set of international agendas for peacebuilding and development, namely the World Bank’s World Development Report (2011), UNDP’s 2012 Governance for Peace report (2012), and the so-called “New Deal” for Engagement in Fragile States put forward by the “g7+” (2011), and the Report of the UN Secretary General on Peacebuilding in the Aftermath of Conflict (2012). The World Bank’s 2013 book Social Dynamics and Fragility: Engaging Societies in Responding to Fragile Situations, by Alexandre Marc et al. is perhaps the best extant volume to explore the application of the social cohesion concept to conflict-affected countries. PEACEBUILDING: A SOCIAL COHESION APPROACH 31

4. See also Brass (1997). 5. Ibid., 103. 6. UNDP, “Community Security and Social Cohesion: Toward a UNDP Approach”, 14. 7. Simon Chesterman, Michael Ignatieff, and Ramesh Thakur, “Making States Work,” International Peace Academy Occasional Paper (July 2004): 17.

Guatemala: National Fragmentation, Local Cohesion

Otto Argueta and Sabine Kurtenbach

Guatemala’s society is divided along three different overlapping lines: ethnicity, residence, and income. Conﬂicts arising from deep social inequalities manifest themselves in claims for social justice; access to land; as well as economic, political, and social participation. Patterns of social cohesion have changed during the post–civil war period – but remain most of all a local experience. In contrast, fragmentation continues to dominate at the national level. The country received signiﬁcant amounts of international development assistance over the past two decades, largely directed toward supporting the establishment of vertical social cohesion through poverty reduction, the promotion of human rights norms (especially indigenous group rights), and access to the rule of law, as well as reform of exclusive state institutions. International development actors, however, underestimated the importance of local social dynamics, inadvertently deepening vertical social fragmentation. In this case, international donors learned that external efforts to make state institutions more inclusive and accountable raised expectations at the local level. Reform efforts empowered and encouraged local identity-based social groups to organize and mobilize to try to claim

O. Argueta (*) Á S. Kurtenbach German Institute for Global and Area Studies, Hamburg, Germany e-mail: [email protected]; [email protected]

© The Author(s) 2017 33 F.D. Cox, T.D. Sisk (eds.), Peacebuilding in Deeply Divided Societies, Rethinking Political Violence, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-50715-6_3 34 O. ARGUETA AND S. KURTENBACH their rights to equitable participation and access to state resources. At the same time, donor inﬂuence on the behavior of dominant elite groups and the state remained low. As a consequence, the state’s security sector responded to local identity-based mobilization and protests through the criminalization of protest and, in some cases, violent repression and disappearances. Currently, many international donor organizations have reduced their presence or left the country due to a lack of results and the emergence of new priorities in the region.

PROTRACTED VIOLENCE POST-CIVIL WAR Guatemala is the largest and most populated country in the Central American isthmus. Over 50% of its population is indigenous (mostly Maya, but also Garífuna and Xinca). Around 40% are so called “Ladinos” having indigenous and European ancestors. A small wealthy elite is of European descent. Guatemala has a long history of conflict and violence closely related to deeply engrained social, economic (land ownership), and political inequalities between rural (mostly indigenous) and urban (mostly Ladino and white) populations. The latter dominated politics and economy while the indigenous groups were included only as a low-cost labor force. Catholicism served as a major mechanism of social cohesion until the middle of the twentieth century when Evangelical sects from the USA began to spread and the unity of the Catholic Church was endangered due to conflict over liberation theology. In 1954, a decade of mostly urban institutional reforms was ended by a Central Intelligence Agency (CIA)-sponsored military coup. Shortly after, a civil war began in the early 1960s, affecting in its first phase mostly the eastern departments. In the second phase, social mobilization was answered with extreme state repression (1981–1985). The military government conducted a scorched earth strategy in the indigenous populated western highlands. In 1996, the war ended with the signature of a comprehensive peace agreement mediated by the Catholic and the Lutheran churches first, the United Nations (UN) afterwards. The truth commission documented a death toll of 200,000 people (83% Mayans, 17% Ladinos), assigning an overwhelming responsibility for fatalities (93%) to the state’s armed forces including the military, the National Police and paramilitary forces. Ongoing conflict over the genocide trial against former dictator Ríos Montt (starting in 2012) provides ample evidence for how deep these divisions still are in Guatemala. GUATEMALA: NATIONAL FRAGMENTATION, LOCAL COHESION 35

Following the civil war, wartime criminal structures survived. High levels of corruption persisted across Guatemala and new police institutions were unable to contain a major wave of post-war crime. Together, Guatemala, El Salvador, and Honduras became the most dangerous region in the world in terms of violent crime. In this context, post-war governments in Guatemala adopted highly repressive security policies. This approach undermined the already weak basis for institutional reform, favoring the persistence of selective political violence and acts of social cleansing through state and non-state actors. The use of militaries in public security had a double effect. First of all, it caused the rollback of initial, more inclusive reforms that initially started to take root in the post- war period. Second, it strengthened the government’s dependence on the military and triggered highly repressive responses to largely nonviolent social protests demanding greater inclusion.

CONTEMPORARY CONFLICT DYNAMICS IN GUATEMALA This combination of factors shapes current identity-based conflicts in Guatemala. During the past decade, hydropower and mining projects developed by multinational corporations have produced multiple identity-based protests. The lack of transparency, the lack of local consultancy mechanisms, and the negative environmental effects of these projects stand at the core of these protests. These conflicts are closely related to Guatemala’s structural conflicts, including the limited access to natural resources as well as political and economical exclusion of the poor rural population. Critically, most mining and hydropower projects are located in territories with a long history of land struggles commonly linked with abuses committed during the war. Another factor escalating local identity-based conflict and violent crim- inality is the presence of drug dealers attempting to secure territories through the dispossession of communal property. The Guatemalan government depends on the political and financial support of conservative and powerful economic elites involved in mining and hydropower projects. These elite interest groups refuse to negotiate with local social movements and call for repression. In short, vested economic interest groups use large financial resources to discredit local human rights defenders, indigenous social movement leaders and even work to counter the international community in the public opinion. This intensifies conflict and supports radicalization among indigenous social movement. 36 O. ARGUETA AND S. KURTENBACH

Overall, current conflicts in Guatemala relate closely to deeply embedded structural conflicts between rural and urban, and indigenous and Ladino populations. The Latin American Political Opinion Project, for example, states in its 2012 report that the main predictors of participation in protests are “ethnic self-identification, education and income” (LAPOP [Latin American Public Opinion Project] 2012, xxxii). Indigenous poor comprise the majority of actors participating in protests. Marginalization of the indigenous rural populations is not only related to poverty but also to Human Development Indicators. At the same time, violence in its many manifestations remains unpunished not only regarding war-related violence but also violent crime and acts of violent state repression. In 2007, the UN Special Representative on extralegal executions, Philip Anston, called Guatemala “a good place for murder, because you will almost certainly get away with it.”1

SOCIAL COHESION DEFICITS Guatemala’s history is characterized by three patterns of social fragmentation. These patterns have adapted to changing environments, over time, but largely have persisted: exclusion and discrimination of the country’sindigen- ous population, the use of state-sanctioned violence to maintain the status quo, and a development model focused on resource extraction that benefits a small and wealthy group of elite actors. The exact portion of Guatemala’s indigenous population is unknown due to deficits in national statistics that historically underestimate data on Maya, Garífuna, and Xinca descendants.2 This analysis reveals deficits in vertical social cohesion (between state and society) despite increasing levels of advocacy and agency regarding local identity-based social movements demanding civil and political rights. After almost 20 years of continued civil society strengthening and international cooperation support, social movements now orient their actions towards broader political participation and preservation of natural resources. Most expressions of resistance against multinational explora- tions originate in communal and local-based organizations rather than large, national social movements. The defense of territory and the protection of natural resources fuels horizontal social cohesion among diverse indigenous ethnic groups at the local level. An important exception to this trend is the massive anticorruption movement. In 2015, the public prosecutor presented evidence for corruption of high-level executives, including the vice president and president. The GUATEMALA: NATIONAL FRAGMENTATION, LOCAL COHESION 37 evidence went beyond the usual rumors and the widespread lack of trust in the state and its institutions, effectively triggering cooperation, organization, and mobilization across the persistent rural – urban social cleavage. The anticorruption movement is an expression of urban middle- class rejection of traditional leadership from the political class. Although successful in its claim for resignation of the vice president and the president, the movement ultimately lacks further organization and does not have a clear agenda for long-term reform of Guatemala’s political system. As such, elections on September 7, 2016, resulted in a highly fragmented vote for the president as well as for congress. In Guatemala, international development partners support processes of social participation and inclusion, civil society empowerment and the fight against impunity, among other issues. However, the scope of its coverage, the amount and destiny of its financial support, and the transformative effect of its interventions are difficult to measure.3 Bilateral international cooperation is mostly conducted through the United Nations Development Program United States Agency for International Development (UNDP) and aligns with the government’sdevelopment agenda. Starting in 1999, international donors began to coordinate their development aid with the Guatemalan government. This process led to a series of joint declarations and agreements. Since 2004 the main mechanism for coordination of external development actors is the so-called Group of 13 (G-13), which focuses on harmo- nizing cooperation across five priority areas: security and justice; health; education; environment and water, and food security.4 Nevertheless, there are conflicts between donors and their specific agendas. While (USAID) has an agenda of “national security,” UNDP’s focus is on human development. Other donors, including Norwegian and Swiss donor organizations have reduced their cooperation with Guatemala significantly during the last years due to differences with the government and a lack of results. A permanent conflict between Guatemalan governments and donors is related Guatemala’s tax ratio. Even though the original peace accords established a minimum of 12% of Gross Domestic Product (GDP), the government has not yet achieved even this low threshold. The unwillingness of Guatemala’s elites to strengthen the state’s internal capacity for social development and integration is one of the main causes for the deficits in vertical cohesion: domestic political interests block external agendas. The conflict around the mandate and the presence of CICIG (Comisión International contra la Impunidad en Guatemala [the International Commission against Impunity in Guatemala]) is a case in point. Guatemalan 38 O. ARGUETA AND S. KURTENBACH congress succeeded in reducing the mandate of the originally envisioned mission designed to investigate illegal groups and clandestine security organizations. Former president Otto Pérez Molina (2012–2015) wanted to end the mission until the internal and external pressure increased significantly due to the corruption crisis in 2015. CICIG’s support of the General Attorney’sOffice has increased people’strustin institutions of criminal investigation and justice as well as accountability of the upcoming elected authorities. Elite resistance to security reforms and truth-telling processes undermines accountability and creates a major roadblock for social cohesion.

RELIGION AND SOCIAL COHESION IN GUATEMALA State institutions, except for the military, are largely absent in the rural areas. The Catholic Church, the largest non-state institution, provides a platform of inter-group cohesion through open and inclusive religious liberalism that has adapted to include indigenous traditions, rituals, and systems of faith (Velez 1980, 207f ). In Guatemala lay fraternities (cofradías) are a key example. Initially established to promote Christianity and to organize celebrations, cofradías were based on traditional forms of authority and family networks. In the nineteenth century, within the waning influences and power of the church, cofradías became relatively autonomous and are an interesting example of the mixture and absorption of externally introduced social innovations by indigenous traditions. Processes of social change brought to an end the religious monopoly of the Catholic Church, increasing the influence of Evangelical and Pentecostal churches in indigenous regions of Guatemala. Social change also affected the traditional scheme of relations between the indigenous and Ladino population. During the 1960s and the 1970s the remains of traditional relations like the ritual god-parenthood (compadrazgo) of mes- tizos for indigenous children ceased to exist (Adams 1994, 194). Although this was a hierarchical and asymmetric relationship, it also established important integrating or bridging bonds between the two social groups and thus was an important mechanism of bridging social capital. Displacement of more than a million Guatemalans inside the country and migration of more than 250,000 beyond the borders had repercus- sions on the spatial distribution of the population. Rapid urban growth was one of the consequences, concentrated mostly in the capital Guatemala- City. At the same time, violence exacerbated spatial ethnic-cultural GUATEMALA: NATIONAL FRAGMENTATION, LOCAL COHESION 39 divisions in the country as many of the remaining Ladinos left the highlands and fled from other regions with an indigenous majority (Adams and Bastos 2003, 74). The social implications of displacement and migration varied according to the specific forms. On the one hand, refugees drawn to urban centers in Guatemala had serious problems adapting to the new environment, lived in extreme poverty and were neither integrated nor socialized to urban livelihoods even a decade later. On the other hand, during the war it was dangerous to be perceived as “indigenous,” but after the end of the war “Mayanization” became a unique phenomenon (Bastos and Camus 2007). A Pan-Maya identity grew out of the collective experience of violence and victimization. This process did not occur in the Ladino population, which continued to experience a crisis of identity that deepened after the war in line with the acknowledgement of Guatemala as a multiethnic, pluri-cultural, and multilingual society in the peace accords. The comprehensive peace accords attempted to build foundations for substantial changes of the Guatemalan society and the long-term development of a more inclusive set of political institutions. However, the accords were neither a reflection of an internal consensus or a shifting balance of power nor of the strength of the reform-oriented actors. They were based on international standards and put into place due to pressure from international actors, namely the UN. The Accord on Indigenous Rights and on the establishment of a truth commission illustrates this problem. The “Accord on the Identity and the Rights of the Indigenous People” (AIDPI, Acuerdo sobre Identidad y Derechos de los Pubelos Indígenas) was, in principal, the agreement with the most important consequences for change to Guatemala’s societal status quo. The Guatemalan parliament signed International Labour Organization (ILO)-convention 169, the basis for many formulations of the AIDPI; however, the necessary constitutional reforms did not receive support in a national referendum in May 1999. The failed referendum was a clear sign of the persistence of long-last social divisions. The referendum was supported in the departments with predominantly indigenous population, but it was dismissed in the capital and the country’s eastern departments. Moreover, voter turn- out was very low with only 18% of the electorate participating. Another very controversial issue, closely related to the issue of violence, was the establishment of a post-civil war truth commission called the Comisión de Esclarecimiento Histórico (CEH). The military accepted the 40 O. ARGUETA AND S. KURTENBACH idea of an investigation of human rights violations, but under the condition that the investigation had to be “just, balanced, and non-partisan.” The commission operated under a mandate restricting it to investigations and public identification of institutional failures, but it was not allowed to identify individual perpetrators (as did the Salvadoran Truth Commission).5 Under the direction of Christian Tomuschat (a German professor for international law) the CEH presented a widely acknowl- edged report titled, “Memory of Silence” on February 25, 1999. The report documented 40,000 human rights’ violations, holding state security forces responsible for 95% of them. The CEH set up a series of recommendations for the rehabilitation of the victims, for joint memorialization processes, and a program of compensation. In terms of preventive measures, the CEH advocated for reform of the justice system, a change of the mandate of the armed forces and the empowerment of the indigenous people for participation and a reform of the state’s financial system. Most of these recommendations were not converted into political action or institutional reform.6 Failure to implement these accords that were directly tailored to reconcile deep ethnic-based grievances and alleviate fear among marginalized groups remains a major factor contributing to contemporary conditions conducive to increasing conflicts around social and environmental issues and ongoing impunity for elites responsible for gross human rights abuses.

SOCIAL CLEAVAGES AND HORIZONTAL INEQUALITIES While direct civil war in Guatemala has ended, formally, deprivation and inequality persist along the rural/indigenous versus urban/Ladino divide. Development gaps between rural and urban spheres are more evident in the areas of education and access to basic social services. The Guatemalan state remains highly centralized despite donor-sponsored policies of decentralization, meaning most political decision processes and administrative institutions are located in Guatemala City. This limits the possibilities of rural population to participate significantly in political decision-making at the national level. The state’s tax extraction capacity is one of the lowest in the world although the peace accords established a minimum of 12%. Resistance of the economic elite has been fierce, despite pressure from international donors. Not even a change in government was able to overcome this resistance. In 2007 Álvaro Colom (2008–2012) was elected with a largely GUATEMALA: NATIONAL FRAGMENTATION, LOCAL COHESION 41 rural constituency and a program of increasing social services for the country’s poor. Without a parliamentarian majority, the government increased social spending via the presidential social fund. The following government of Otto Pérez Molina reduced social investment and shifted the budget to other institutions. Public services have been weakened further due to very high levels of corruption. The former president currently is accused of organizing a major corruption network around the Guatemalan tax agency, and other high-level government officials likely were involved in corruption inside the social security institution (IGSS). Despite stable macroeconomic growth during the last two decades, extreme poverty concentrates in indigenous departments creating high levels of identity-based inequality. The state is more unwilling than unable to invest into the poorest regions. Due to ecological change, Guatemala faces a serious problem regarding food security, especially across the “dry corridor.” According to the UN World Food Program this affects currently 53,297 households in 66 municipalities and in 979 communities.7 In parallel, access to social insurance systems is low, segmented, and varies widely according to territory, social stratum, and sector. Social safety nets, once pervasive in the Indian village communities, were destroyed by 36 years of civil war. Informal social safety networks provide some level of safety, especially in areas with strong communal organization. Social and economic remittances provide support to communities where the presence of the welfare system is precarious or nonexistent. However, communities receiving the highest levels of remittances are in the countries East and not in the indigenous departments. According to the Human Development Report, 78.9% of Ladinos have family outside Guatemala while the highest percentage in the indigenous population is Quiche’swith6.9%. At the same time, 59.1% of internal migrants are Ladinos.8 High levels of corruption affect the social insurance system. Repeatedly, the Guatemalan Social Security Institute is target of corruption. In the most recent case, 18 people were accused of embezzling more than 2.5 million USD.9 Criminal and illegal economic structures, largely built during the civil war by a network of criminal actors with networks involving active and former members of the state’s security forces and local elites, not only continue to function but recently increased their range of action. The shadow economy is based around the drug trade as well as trafficking of humans, precious woods, and stolen cars, among other illegal commod- ities. The complex link between politics and illegal activities in Guatemala 42 O. ARGUETA AND S. KURTENBACH is directly related to the institutional framework of national and local authorities and the private sector. Recent studies show the high flexibility and mobility of criminal networks across the private sector, public institutions, NGOs, and even multinational corporations. Criminal networks evolved during the last years moving from structured organizations linked with former military or high public officials toward more dynamic and dispersed groups deeply embedded in politics and legal economic activities.10 Regarding demographic divisions, Guatemala has just begun its demographic transition. Currently, over 50% of the population is under 25 years old. The age cohort between 15 and 25 has a share of more than 35% of the adult population (age 15+). Guatemala clearly faces a youth bulge. Young people have severe difficulties transitioning into adulthood and formal employment as the development model rests on the availability of low-cost, low-skill labor. Compared to 1989, the share of formal employment opportunities has decreased, a process affecting Ladino youth more than indigenous youth leading to very high levels of migration either to the urban center capital or out of country.11

HISTORICAL STRUGGLES AND CURRENT CONFLICTS Currently, socio-environmental conflicts are a consequence of the social and horizontal inequalities and the most important driver of unrest in Guatemala. Social protests against mining and hydropower exploitation unify a wide range of social movements with different levels of organization. Most of them are local, community-based movements, often organized around religious institutions. These movements are not necessarily organized to pursue structural transformation and tend not to have a deep experience in social mobilization and civil resistance. Rather, most of them are informal expressions of local social ties previously existing in the community, and motivated by the threat to their natural resources. The threat to natural resources activates the long, shared struggle for indigenous land rights and the legal status of land property.12 Existing identity- based differences often get set aside when collective action is activated against mining or hydropower exploitation. Another important element related to the effect of socio-environmental demands is the reactivation of social protests coming from local-based organizations. As Torres-Rivas explains, during the last two decades traditional social movements lost mobilization capacity and consequently, the GUATEMALA: NATIONAL FRAGMENTATION, LOCAL COHESION 43 government ignored demands for structural change. Recent socio-environmental demands provide an opportunity for traditional social movements to reactivate local support. This dynamic reveals two important issues. On one hand, local social cohesion resulted from long processes of strengthening of citizen rights and political participation. On the other hand, socio-environmental conflicts are the expression of shared dissatisfaction among highly marginalized populations. Dissatisfaction relates to land rights, limited political participation, poverty, and the weakening of local social organizations. This explains why socio-environmental protests are supported by communal organizations with very little experience engaging in political processes.13 Opposition to mining and hydropower projects overcomes class, ethnic, and even political backgrounds. It is the expression of horizontal cohesion on the basis of human rights demands. Although mining exploitation has a long history in Guatemala, during the last 10 years multinational companies increased their interest in exploiting natural resources. This is a more intensive expression of the extraction-based economy. During the civil war, the military controlled mining exploitation contracts with multinational corporations especially in the so-called Franja Transversal del Norte. However, most of these projects were interrupted because of the intensity of the armed conflict and the political unrest.14 Even though some mining projects were interrupted, the expropriation of land for mining exploration continued and land was taken through violence and fraud.15 At the same time, other violent, non-state actors such as drug trafficking organizations participated in the process of land usurpation to secure drug trafficking routes and make profit selling properties to multinational projects.16 Existing mining law has several gray areas regarding property rights over the territories in which mining companies are allowed to conduct activities. This legal vacuum is one of the most important drivers of conflict. In most cases, the process of property transfer began years before the mining license was granted. This means, the transfer of communal properties to private owners occurs without necessary information sharing about which kind of economic activities will be conducted. When a company initiates its activities, the community has no property rights. According to an interviewee, the existing mining law was made to increase economic profit rather than protect natural resources and civil rights.17 The government also contributes to local conflict through disrespect- ing popular consultation processes. These are supposed to be democratic mechanisms through which the population expresses its opinion about a 44 O. ARGUETA AND S. KURTENBACH public decision that affects communal interests. All popular consultation processes conducted during the last 10 years resulted in communal rejection of mining and hydropower projects.18 Various governments repeatedly ignored these processes, arguing outcomes of popular consultations are not legally binding. These actions generated deep frustration and grievances among the population because communities see their civil rights violated. Normally, the government grants mining and hydropower licenses even prior to the popular consultation. Communities have no legal resources, while multinational companies have the power to force governments to comply with contracts.19 Under these conditions, violence occurs when communities realize political and institutional mechanisms are closed to their demands, and the only response of the state is further repression.20 These examples show the failure of preventive dialogue mechanisms, which are implemented only after conflict has escalated. Government authorities respond to violent protests using repressive means in order to preserve social stability. At the same time, representatives of the private sector call for a broader use of the military to control social protest. While mining and hydropower projects continue getting licenses, local conflicts in the country will persist. Human development indicators mirror high levels of economic inequality in Guatemala. A new measurement of inequality, adjusted for Human Development Index (HDI), shows Guatemala loses a third of its HDI due to inequalities in income, education, and life expectancy.21 At the same time, surveys show low levels of expectation for economic progress. In the Latinobarómetro Survey of 2011, only 34% of Guatemalans thought their personal economic situation would improve over the next 12 months (average Latin America 45, Brazil 64). At the same time, only 16% thought existing income distribution was just (average Latin America 21; Ecuador 43). In every survey since 1993, economic problems were named as the most important social issue; insecurity came second as a reported problem (LAPOP 2015, 13). According to Latinobarómetro, only 22% of Guatemalans find the current distribution of income and wealth just (2013, 77). A majority of respondents holds the government and the state responsible for changing this situation and demand a more active role. As a result of long-standing economic stagnation, surveys show very high levels of mistrust in the government. According to Latinobarómetro (2011, 36) only 8% of the population thinks the government works to improve the situation of all. Place of residence and levels of insecurity GUATEMALA: NATIONAL FRAGMENTATION, LOCAL COHESION 45 affect levels of interpersonal trust (LAPOP 2010, 130). At the same time, these surveys show higher levels of participation (10%) as well as trust (over 46%) in local governments (LAPOP 2014, 100).

IDENTITY CLEAVAGES AND PATTERNS OF STATE RESPONSE The conflict over the trial against former military dictator Efraín Ríos Montt on genocide provides evidence of the perceptions of different social groups regarding patterns of social cohesion. Guatemala’swhite elite has a historical fear of an indigenous uprising against the existing status quo. Independence from Spain ended the existing paternalistic safeguards for Maya communities but left the power of the local white oligarchy untouched. The distinction between the indigenous and the Ladino population is a social construction from the nineteenth century when Guatemala was pushed by liberal reforms towards the still prevailing resource extractive development model. Shortly after independence, in February 1838, the Ladino Rafael Carrera organized the first and only joint rebellion of Indígenas and poor Ladinos against the white oligarchy. Fear of indigenous uprisings persisted and formed the ideological basis for the scorched earth campaign during the civil war. Indigenous groups were viewed as the main supporters of the guerrilla groups aiming at structural economic and political change. In less than 12 months (1982–1983) the military not only destroyed over 600 villages and killed over 100,000 people, but committed acts of genocide trying to destroy indigenous culture and identity.22 The military reorganized the highland’s population and resettled its inhabitants under military control establishing so-called development poles. This provided for a certain form of physical protection but likewise led to a climate of terror and suspicion, which destroyed the central patterns of indigenous community life. In the development poles, indigenous groups of different Maya languages were mixed and the population lived in absolute dependence on local army installa- tions. The provision of food was dependent on “work for food” programs and villagers had to construct infrastructure necessary for the military’s exploitation of natural resources. According to Schirmer these actions, “represent the most significant reorganization of the indigenous population since the Conquest” (Schirmer 1998, 73). The establishment of paramilitary militias (Patrullas de Autodefensa Comunal, PAC) served the same goal. It was based on experiences of 46 O. ARGUETA AND S. KURTENBACH counterinsurgency in the country’s east during the 1960s and was embedded in the army’s analysis that emergency and development programs were necessary to address poverty and instability in the rural areas. New forms of social and political organization had to be introduced to counter rebel group mobilization, and nationalistic anti- communism was advocated to dampen questioning of the status quo. The termination of the war did little to overcome these traditional perceptions beyond the symbolical and rhetorical level. President Otto Pérez Molina (2012–2015), who was a military commander in the Ixil triangle that stands at the core of the genocide trial, denies any involvement in direct attempts to destroy indigenous culture and identity. He claims that guerrilla forces used indigenous communities as hideouts and that counterinsurgency operations only focused on targeting insurgents. The trial against Rios Montt represents a major turning point in the history of pursuing justice for war crimes in Guatemala.23 After an intense trial, the court issued an indictment for genocide against Rios Montt on May 10, 2013. This was the result of a long process with the participation of multiple human rights organizations, national and international lawyers, forensic anthropologists, scholars, and many others. The reaction of conservative groups and the defense of Rios Montt rapidly found the way to block the sentence. The Constitutional Court annulled the process and delayed the trial, forcing the reversal of the case back to preliminary investigation phases. However, the trial in itself is an extraordinary achievement for a justice system that must grapple simultaneously with the legacy of a vicious internal conflict and the contemporary scourges of gang violence, corruption, and illegal drug trafficking.24 The trial also made evident persistent structures of racism. The more than 100 victims that testified in the trial were Ixiles. It was the first time in the history of Guatemala that representatives of an ethnic group victimized during the war publicly expressed the suffering they experienced. Conservative groups justified the resistance against the trial, arguing genocide never occurred in Guatemala because there was a war in which indigenous population was supporting guerrilla movements. Racism remains a structural feature of Guatemalan society and it is expressed, among other aspects, in the historical denial of justice. The trial, at least, opened an opportunity to alter this pattern. GUATEMALA: NATIONAL FRAGMENTATION, LOCAL COHESION 47

Social Mobilization and Civic Organization During the last years there has been a significant amount of local, identity- based conflict mostly related to environmental and land grievances. Traditional Christian churches provide platforms for organization and accompany indigenous communities in many of these conflicts, with political parties largely disconnected from local conflicts. This is a result of the highly personalistic structure of Guatemala’s political system. Demands are not channeled via political parties and congress but directed at the president.25 A majority of Guatemalans still trust in and participate in religious organizations. Behind the military, the Catholic Church is the most trusted institution in Guatemala (60%); Evangelical churches come second (49%) just ahead of the president, ranked third (48%). Congress (41%) and political parties (32%) come last.26 Of all forms of civic association, Guatemalans participate most in religious groups. Religious organizations help build solidarity and engage actively with community grievances. Some religious organizations accompany local communities providing a space for discussion or meetings, and even publicity and advocacy at the national and international level. However, there are significant differences across religious organizations.27 Catholic priests and Bishops accompany communities in their demands for participation locally, as well as in some departments. Bishop Álvaro Ramazzini (formerly bishop of San Marcos, now Huehuetenango), for example, is widely known for his advocacy for indigenous groups. At the national level, the Bishops conference issued statements demanding the implementation of the peace accords and the establishment of a more inclusive economic development model called, “la Paz esté con Ustedes” on the 15th anniversary of the murder of Bishop Gerardi.28 However, there are still internal divisions within the Catholic Church over the role of the church in social conflicts formulated by the “option for the poor” and liberation theology. The Catholic Church often needs to balance its public claims between its varied constituencies. Critics claim this causes it to be less assertive in addressing the deepest identity-based divisions in Guatemala. Mainline protestant churches, Lutheran and Presbyterian churches, in particular, also accompany communal organizations and voice social demands at the national and international levels. Many local social movements supported by faith-based institutions are so small that they cooperate and form regional coordination bodies. In eastern Guatemala, 48 O. ARGUETA AND S. KURTENBACH for example, Coordinadora de Organizaciones Populares, Indígenas, Sindicales y Campesinas de Oriente (COPISCO) unites more than 40 organizations struggling for access to water. In Guatemala’s south the Coordinadora de Resistencia organizes demands against an electric power enterprise. While there are rumors about a national organization, this has not yet materialized. In general, Evangelical and Pentecostal churches tend not to interfere with social mobilization and view their main task as the provision of basic needs and religious support. Regarding access to water, for example, their support focuses on the distribution of filters than the political and social struggle against pollution and access. Respondents claim Lutheran and Presbyterian efforts provide a basis for local- and community-based forms of social cohesion, while Evangelical approaches tend to promote sectarian patterns of fragmentation and individualistic answers to social problems. As a result, patterns of mobilization and organization show high levels of “localism” and fragmentation across Guatemala. State repression also contributes to fragmentation. Leaders of local social movements, religious organizations, and religious leaders (priests, laymen, even bishops) are common targets for selected political violence. They receive threats, are criminalized, and many times are attacked or even murdered. Reports of national as well as international human rights organizations, including Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch, and Peace Brigades International, provide vast evidence of state-sponsored efforts to intimidate and threaten actors who demand the implementation of codified rights or organize protests against specific policies or projects. In a climate of fear and a lack of justice for past human rights violations, this type of violence reinforces low levels of organization and high levels of political disenfranchisement.

Political Dimensions of Deep Social Divisions The termination of war has opened some space for the representation and participation of formerly marginalized social groups (indigenous as well as Ladino). At the same time, the civil war created new patterns of social fragmentation and identity-based political demobilization.29 While freedom of association and assembly is guaranteed by the constitution, the advocacy of trade unions is hindered by various mechanisms such as rotating them to front companies, as well as by intimidation and selective violence. Between 2007 and 2014, 68 members and representatives of GUATEMALA: NATIONAL FRAGMENTATION, LOCAL COHESION 49 trade unions were assassinated.30 Human rights defenders and social activists remain targets of violence. The media is dominated by economic interest groups and faces consistent pressure from the government, particularly during election campaigns. Independent reporting is scarce. Numerous cases of harassment, intimidation, and violence have been reported against journalists who attempt to investigate corruption, criminal activities, or human rights abuses. These forms of intimidation also fuel strategies of self-censorship. Due to these deﬁcits in civil rights guarantees, Guatemala is rated only “partly free” by Freedom House up to today.

Electoral Processes Regarding the electoral system, Guatemala has a majority runoff system for president, single chamber proportional representation and two-tiered district voting with a single vote for the parliament. Electoral laws were reformed to enable formerly excluded political actors to participate after the end of the war. Electoral reforms and decentralization opened and increased possibilities for political participation. For example, in 1997 the former guerrilla Unidad Revolucionaria Nacional Guatemalteca (URNG) transformed into a legal political party. However, it did not have much success at the ballot box. Regarding the indigenous population, decentralization enhanced possibilities for political participation as at the municipal level. Candidates do not need to be members of nationally recognized political parties but can be presented by local constituencies, so-called Comités Cívicos with a lower legal threshold for inscription. This mechanism was widely used in the western highlands, and indigenous mayors were elected, such as in the capital of the most important city in the highlands, Quetzaltenango, in 1999 and 2003. However, the committees have not been able to develop an alternative political project, and share structural problems with national political parties, most of all, personalism and clientelism.

Political Institutions and Elite Behavior Ethnicity and gender play a major role for political participation in the Guatemala case, but in contrast to developments in other Latin American countries such as Bolivia or Ecuador, this did not lead to the establishment of political projects around ethnic identities. Guatemala’s indigenous organizations are divided. Social mobilization has not resulted in the 50 O. ARGUETA AND S. KURTENBACH organization of a political movement based on indigenous demands for social change at the national level. Some indigenous political groups favor a “cultural” approach – demanding bilingualism, for example. Others advocate for comprehensive social, political, and economic reform. Mobilization and organization increased when the Nobel Peace Prize was awarded to indigenous activist Rigoberta Menchú in 1992. This momentum, however, was not translated into electoral success. Menchú’s candidacy and WINAQ (political movement founded by Nobel Peace Lareate Rigoberta Menchú), the party she founded in 2008, received little support in the elections of 2011 and 2015, both getting around 3% of the vote. WINAQ had three seats in Guatemala’s congress 2011–2015, and currently only one. In 2011 in the first round of the presidential election Menchú received most votes in the departments of San Marcos (8.5), Huehuetenango (6), and Sololá (5.8), while her results in other indigenous departments did not surpass the low national average. In 2015 she did not even run. In contrast, Guatemala’s elite has learned to use electoral democracy to maintain the status quo, although democracy did not belong to the oligarchy or the military’s “tool kit” for conflict resolution. The main reasons for political transition were internal conflicts between different factions within the military as well as between the military and the dominant economic groups after the government of Ríos Montt 1982–1983. At the same time, the US and European pressure played an important role in “convincing” the economic elites to democratize. Until the formal termination of the war and the peace accords severe restrictions to democracy remained. Authoritarian enclaves were institutionalized in the new constitution, the military remained in charge of internal security, and political participation remained restricted. Election results over the last years show a very fragile and fragmented party system accompanied with a diffuse polarization and a highly volatile electorate. Since 1996, the former guerrilla group URNG has not played a significant role in national elections; its representation in Congress remains negligible. Further, in contrast to the reform-oriented forces, which are unable to agree on a joint agenda for change, the Guatemalan oligarchy is not homogenous but nearly unaffected by fragmentation. The Cimoté Coordinador de Asociaciones Agrícolas, Industriales y Financieras and the military, for example, lobby for their interests predominantly through indirect and informal channels. Due to biographical, personal, and family ties to the economic elite, the governments of Alvaro Arzú (1996–2000) and Oscar Berger (2004–2008) – both proclaimed to lead GUATEMALA: NATIONAL FRAGMENTATION, LOCAL COHESION 51

“business governments.” Both governments prevented fundamental reforms of the existing political and socio-economic status quo in spite of pro-reform rhetoric used in the run-up to each election.31 Reform- oriented parties and organizations generally address only isolated problems and are short lived. Their capacity to form alliances is limited by the fact that they, too, are fragmented along personality lines.

Why Reforms Fail: The Politics of Fear and Corruption The government of Alvaro Colóm (2008–2012) is an example of how initiatives to address structural inequalities can be blocked both due to internal power struggles and the reaction of conservative economic groups. In his initial campaign Colom proposed a middle left-oriented government in which social policies would stand at the core of a reform strategy. In fact, the program Mi familia progresa was the first social program created in the country. The program was designed to increase inclusivity inside executive institutions especially those ministries linked with social issues such as education and health ministries. To do this, an Inter-institutional Coordination Committee was created, which was conducted by the first lady, Sandra Torres de Colóm. The program also sought to increase socio-economic conditions in the poorest areas of the country through conditioned money transfers.32 The second phase of the program started in 2009, expanding its coverage to the whole country. According to analysts, this was counterproductive. Local governments lacked institutional capacity to control the efficiency and transparency of the transfers, effectively undermining inter-institutional coordination.33 During this phase, the first lady made public her intentions to be a presidential candidate. Clearly, the program was established largely as the electoral platform of the official party, which justified the decision to ignore the legal framework preventing close relatives (including his wife) to be presidential candidates. Ignoring all political implications, Sandra Torres divorced the President (to circumvent this provision) producing a major political crisis in the country. A verdict of the Constitutional Court confirmed the legal impediment, and Sandra Torres had to step down. Besides the political crisis, the most important negative effect was on the social program Mi Familia Progresa, which lost an important opportunity to influence the historical lack of basic social welfare services.34 However, the program had some positive effects regarding social cohesion. At the economic level, the program strengthened local economies by 52 O. ARGUETA AND S. KURTENBACH vitalizing local markets. Additionally, money transfers were delivered to women, which produced empowerment against the traditional dominance of men. This was fundamental for improving administration of family income and increasing economic independency. The program also helped strengthen local institutions such as the Communal Development Councils, a decentralized institution integrated by local representatives. The program gave the councils leadership in organizing the community and improving governance of local education and health institutions. The government of Alvaro Colom lost an important opportunity to consolidate social policies in the state. In the run-up to each election, there is a restructuring process of parties around the individual candidates. In the aftermath of elections, many of these organizations dissolve. The weakness of the existing party system represents one of the major problems not only for the stabilization of the political system but also for the broadening of political representation. Most recently, as a candidate Otto Pérez promised to continue most of the social programs but then, when in office, dismantled important parts of the safety net, such as the open school program. The white oligarchy and Ladinos dominate Guatemala’s politics and state institutions. Indigenous participation after the end of the war was mostly restricted to “folkloric” inclusion. President Berger (2004–2008), for example, employed indigenous women for greeting foreign guests and Rigoberta Menchú served as a “good will ambassador.” Although there have been some institutions promoting indigenous participation or rights such as the Procuraduría de Derechos de la Mujer Indígena (DEMI) these, as well as other institutions established to implement the peace accords, were underfinanced. State institutions designed to foster social cohesions eventually became fully dependent on financial support by international donors and lacked real political power, had minimal influence, and resigned to advocacy. At the core of the political debates between dominant elites and organized civil society groups is the role of the state in development. While the traditional oligarchy and most of the business community favor a neoliberal minimal state except for its repressive capacities, social and indigenous movements and civil society organizations demand the strengthening of the state most of all for the delivery of public services and the rule of law. The government of Alvaro Colom (2008–2012) tried to strengthen the state’s role in public service delivery, but it failed to introduce sustainable changes due to a lack of parliamentarian support and fierce resistance from traditional groups on the necessary tax reform. GUATEMALA: NATIONAL FRAGMENTATION, LOCAL COHESION 53

Under these conditions, high levels of everyday violence primarily affect the urban poor and marginalized sectors of society rather than the better off who can afford private security. This creates demands for populist approaches promising “hard hand” strategies to improve security. Even though violence decreased somewhat during the administration of Alvaro Colóm, President Otto Pérez Molina, a retired military officer, was elected on a hard hand security platform. Moreover, between 2000 and 2008 the budget for social programs was cut down under the influence of the World Bank. During this time, most social policies were funded by international donors and operated by NGOs serving as a substitute for the lack of public service provision. The government of Alvaro Colóm (2008–2012) tried to institutionalize social welfare through the Intergovernmental Council of Social Cohesion headed by the president’s wife Sandra Torres. The government established a social welfare program (My Familia Progresa) directed towards the 45 communities with the highest levels of extreme poverty. Support for education of 6–14-year olds and for nutrition for under-five-year olds stood at the core. In 2009, the Colom government made public education free of charge and established an open school program aiming at an increase in coverage of education as well as providing room for children and youth after the end of school. However, these programs were accused of partisan use to strengthen the social basis of the president’s party, the Unión Nacional de Esperanza.35 Regarding the relation between the state and civil society, protests of 2015 provide evidence of a new cross-cutting social movement, although its duration and substance remains to be seen. For the first time after the end of war, different sectors – indigenous and Ladino, urban and rural, young and old – joined in calling for the resignation of the president. However, these groups lacked a common agenda for future reform. Guatemala has a history of “25 years of failed dialogue” between different governments and civil society.36 Many round tables formulate reform projects or policy proposals on issues such as welfare policies or security sector reform; however, the parliament turned down all agreements. Guatemala’scongressisresponsibleforinstitutional gridlock and is a key bottleneck for reform. Thus, Guatemala’s state has a low capacity of public service delivery due to a lack of political will. Parliamentary elections in September 2015 resulted in a highly split congress and coalitions for reform will probably be as difficult as before. 54 O. ARGUETA AND S. KURTENBACH

Peacebuilding in Guatemala In the first 10 years after the peace accords, Guatemala received consider- able external support. The largest donors are Spain, the USA, Germany, and the European Union (EU). Priorities of donors differ regarding the role of the state in development as well as the answers towards the high levels of violence. Donors directed most of the aid toward the poorest (indigenous) departments and the reconstruction of physical infrastructure. During the war and the first post-war years, many donors worked in close collaboration with Guatemalan NGOs. Promoting the professionalization of civil society organizations aimed to improving agenda setting ability. The downside, however, is that Guatemalan NGOs and civil society organizations remain highly dependent on donor financing and tend to orient themselves toward donors’ views and strategies. As a result, many Guatemalan citizens view NGOs as externally governed organizations. In some cases, this has led to a disassociation from grassroots support and triggered a rise in complaints about the “NGO-ization” of social movements. Starting with the Berger administration (2004–2008), and building upon the recommendation of the Paris Declaration, recent Guatemalan governments tried to channel international aid through state institutions and diminish the role of national and international NGOs.37 International aid to Guatemala, however, has diminished over the past decade. As Guatemala became a middle-income country with stable macroeconomic performance, donors shifted away from aid and toward loans. This increased room to maneuver for the Guatemalan government, making it able to obtain loans on the market (without conditions that donors might pose) only at slightly higher cost. At present, donors try to coordinate their work through the G-13, but differences in donor interests often strengthen the role of the Guatemalan government. A second cause of decreasing international aid was donor fatigue. Development partners, over time, saw very little progress toward the implementation of the peace accords. When the UN mission overseeing the peace accords (MINUGUA, Misión de Verificación de Naciones Unidas en Guatemala) left the country at the end of 2004, other donors also reduced their activities, consolidating into regional programs, and channeling resources through Multi Donor Trust Funds or withdrawing completely. This particularly applies for donors like the Scandinavian countries, which had a high level of political involvement in the peace process, but retracted support for long-term development efforts. GUATEMALA: NATIONAL FRAGMENTATION, LOCAL COHESION 55

Overall, most donors focus on achieving the Millenium Development Goals, improving governance – particularly in the area of the legal system – and strengthening previously marginalized sections of the population, especially women and indigenous groups. Geographically speaking, the focus is on the regions where the indigenous population is in the majority. International cooperation, therefore, addresses social cohesion indirectly. As follows, three prominent examples show problems and pitfalls of indirect approaches to foster social cohesion, including: (1) promoting dialogue between the state and civil society, (2) supporting the reform of state institutions, and (3) access to justice and broadening the rule of law.

Promoting Dialogue International development partners, especially UNDP and Organisation of American States, support different models of dialogue around controversial issues such as land rights and public security to improve channels of communication between the state and civil society. In the case of citizen safety, dialogues suffered from a lack of focus and respondents reported it was difficult to bring relevant actors to the table. As a consequence, the UNDP took over the initiative and carried out the Política de Seguridad Ciudadana (POLSEC) project (2002–2006). In this project, with broad civil society participation and state representatives, various issues were addressed with the aim of establishing consensus on a police reform agenda. However, extensive dialogue efforts did not translate into policy changes, and the military preserved high levels of institutional autonomy and impunity regarding human rights abuses. The EU finances a National Dialogue program and monitoring of local conflict dynamics through the Human Rights Procuraduría. The UNDP supports the National System of Dialogue an effort to manage conflict and develop early warning systems. The main problems with the intents to establish a national system of early warning are obvious. First of all, there is a lack of trust in state institutions (see above). Second, systems of early warning and mechanisms of civil conflict resolution are no effect without follow-up and political action. An effective early warning system depends primarily on the will of the domestic government. Third, early warning systems are politically sensitive. They demand a high level of transparency and accountability – and consequently the establishment of trust. This is particularly true for post-war societies whose previous history is marked by state repression. 56 O. ARGUETA AND S. KURTENBACH

Experiences with spaces of interaction between the state and civil society in Guatemala illustrate two fundamental problems of fragile statehood. Various Guatemalan governments compensated for their lack of will to implement fundamental reforms by multiplying dialogue processes on a very diverse range of issues. Civil society, therefore, was “paciﬁed” for a certain period of time without anything changing. The experience of the dialogues on rural development is a case in point. In cases where dialogue processes led to the formulation of public policies, implementation of policies was delayed or blocked completely. Another example is the issue of youth: here, numerous public policies exist as well as a donor project meant to ﬁnance their implementation. Nevertheless, the realization of these policies has been either stalled or refused by the government.

Access to Justice and Broadening the Rule of Law Increasing criminal violence in post-civil war period led to increasing donor involvement in programs dealing with public safety or citizen security. UNDP, the EU, Spain, and Germany, for example, advocated for fundamental reforms in the public security institutions after the end of the war and again in 2007 when four members of the Central American parliament were murdered in Guatemala. A major focus, especially by the EU and Spain, has been support for the establishment and later for the reform of the National Civil Police (Policia Nacional Civil, PNC). Related to the social cohesion then, this included the recruitment of indigenous personal in the Western Highlands to increase trust and access to the security sector. Post-war security sector reform intended to achieve civil and political subordination of the military. During the first phase of reform, the military showed political interest in implementing changes in order to improve the political image of the army both at the national and the international level. The army was downsized, the military budget was reduced, territorial coverage was reorganized, military intelligence was restructured, paramilitary organizations were dissolved, and a new military doctrine was defined. Formal institutional changes occurred in a context of political struggles inside the military and high levels of distrust among conservative political and economic elites. Powerful economic elites and conservative political groups were confident the army was the only institution capable of preserving social and political order during the democratic transition. GUATEMALA: NATIONAL FRAGMENTATION, LOCAL COHESION 57

Another important line of donor support has been strengthening the rule of law and combating existing high levels of impunity that clearly undermine vertical social cohesion. Donor projects aim at improving access to the legal system for the poor and indigenous populations and at supporting changes in juridical proceedings that fail to comply with international standards. Various donors have invested heavily in improving access to the legal system particularly in rural areas. In addition, there have been various processes aimed at the modernization and professionalization of the legal system. Many donors attempted to document past human rights violations and promote rehabilitation, compensation, and reconciliation. This type of support, in particular, has been met with resistance and political controversy. For example, the International Commission against Impunity (CICIG) is an interesting example of donor cooperation encountering domestic political blockades. CICIG was created in 2008 by the UN as an international mechanism to identify and investigate corrupt structures inside the state. At the same time, part of its mandate was to strengthen national institutions linked with criminal investigation and justice, specifically, the prosecutor office. From the beginning, supporters of the CICIG had to deal with strong resistance from conservative political groups. Some of the arguments against the CICIG related to the lack of transparency mechanisms inside the commission and the fact that an international team of investigators working in national territory was a threat to national sovereignty. Supporters of the CICIG interpreted opposition to the CICIG as a reaction of guilty war criminals working to sabotage investigations. In a hostile political context, the CICIG initiated activities and garnered the broad support of local civic groups and financial and technical support from 14 countries. In April 2015, the CICIG announced results of an investigation of a corrupt network in the custom system involving Guatemala’s president and vice president, as well as a second investigation of corruption inside the social security institute. This information triggered the most important political crisis in the post-war period. Together with extended period of citizen dissatisfaction, the overwhelming evidence of corruption at the highest levels of government led to massive protests with citizens supporting the CICIG and the Attorney General’sOffice. The CICIG is the first experience of an international intervention to address corrupt networks inside a state. After seven years of activities the commission investigates key processes, although without final sentences in 58 O. ARGUETA AND S. KURTENBACH judicial courts. The third commissioner of the CICIG, Ivan Velásquez, initiated a new era of the commission by improving collaboration with the General Attorney Office and focusing on high-level corruption. Strong evidence made these investigations crucial for accusations against President Otto Pérez and Vice President Roxana Baldetti in 2015. At present, the resignation of both leaders and their prosecutions are important for strengthening the rule of law, but it remains to be seen if this will lead to fundamental changes in the state and its institutions. Significantly, international support contributed significantly to strengthening the Attorney General’sOffice and to restoring a basic level of people’s trust in public institutions. In the current political debate in Guatemala, two main effects of CICIGs presence are discussed, although both of them are not exactly part of its mandate. First, the intervention of the CICIG was crucial for stabilization not only in the crisis of 2015 but also during the political crisis produced by the killing of Rodrigo Rosenberg. The CICIG helped contain conflict escalation related to defamation and conspiracy against the Colom government. Second, the CICIG guaranteed accountability during the election of the General Prosecutor and members of the judicial court. This was fundamental for preventing political influence and clientelism in the election of these key authorities. Due to the current political crisis in 2015 and the success of its efforts, the CICIG’s mandate has been extended until 2017. The experiences with CICIG are an interesting example of national – international interaction triggering the mistrust of conservative groups, but largely helping maintain social stability and improve state–society relations. The trial against Rios Montt is another important dimension of conflict in the interaction between domestic and international actors that reveals challenges for externally led peacebuilding in Guatemala. From most donor agencies’ point of view, the post-war phase of cooperation in Guatemala is over and even human rights are an “issue of the past.” They now direct resources toward traditional human development activities. However, the trial against Rios Montt made obvious that the main cleavages between the indigenous poor and the dominant elite still exist and undermine progress. International cooperation, most of all Nordic support, was seen as part of the conflict. While most agencies choose to avoid addressing Guatemala’s structural problems, Nordic cooperation supported social and political processes at the grassroots level, especially regarding indigenous population and the ILO convention 169. These GUATEMALA: NATIONAL FRAGMENTATION, LOCAL COHESION 59 topics are highly susceptible to the status quo in the country. Hence Nordic cooperation was perceived as politically dangerous.38 The experiences of international cooperation in Guatemala reveal three lessons. First, human rights-based approaches of many programs raised expectations that change was possible at the local level. Second, international cooperation, bilateral as well as multilateral and NGO-based support, helped empower indigenous groups with normative foundations for claiming rights. Third, donor influence on the dominant elite groups and the nature of state responses to local grievances claims has been low and donors had little leverage to emphasize implementation. In many aspects, current patterns of mobilization and protest are a product of these processes. The state responded to local demands for inclusion through criminalization of protest and repression through the state’s security sector. In this context, many external actors are reducing their presence or leaving the country due to a lack of results. The changes in priorities of international cooperation create instability and limit the possibilities of contextualized and long-term programs.

Findings: International Resources and Persistent Polarization Analysis of social cohesion, identity-based conflicts and donor strategies for addressing and managing identity-based grievances in Guatemala can be summarized along five major lessons learned. First, Guatemala lacks vertical cohesion between the government and society due to the existing development model. The state has no active role in decreasing existing social inequalities across the rural/indigenous and urban/Ladino divide. International development cooperation functioned as a substitute for state social policies focusing on the empowerment of the marginalized sectors. Historically, the lack of vertical cohesion in Guatemala constitutes the core of a political economy based on exclusion and inequality. In this system, racism is a fundamental ideological mechanism to justify exclusion and structures the way in state institutions work. Beginning with the judicial system, lacking economic resources to bribe corrupt justice officials or power relations to influence decisions inside the formal justice system, the indigenous minority does not have access to justice. In addition, the political system limits access to political power to those who possess the necessary resources, both legal and illegal, to buy access to political parties. In this context, social mobility is limited with a majority of the population fully dependent upon the informal economy. This is one of 60 O. ARGUETA AND S. KURTENBACH the reasons drug trafficking is so rife and deadly across the country. Informal and illegal forms of state-based punishment drive support for gangs and other vigilante structures. The state remains distant to most of the population and democracy is only an event that takes place each four years. For these reasons, cohesion between public institutions and society is limited. Second, major gaps between rural and urban societies remain despite of some improvements regarding indicators on education and poverty. Social policies failed to compensate disparities produced by an unequal socio-economic system. The state continues neglecting the need for social policies, while international cooperation (at the national level) and religious organizations (at the local level) substitute for some of the development tasks supposedly exclusive of the state. This is a vicious circle that reduces the possibility to address the structural shortcomings producing the lack of public resources for a majority of the population. Patterns of horizontal social cohesion exist in the indigenous regions but mainly on the local level due to a lack of shared agenda and strategy. While the common experience of war and violence supported the establishment of ethnic self-identification as Maya, this did not transform into a larger political project at the national level. The excessive racism existing in state institutions and across Guatemalan society is one important element reinforcing marginalization of the indigenous population. At the same time, political institutions do not represent the indigenous population, access to the justice system is limited by economical, territorial and language barriers, and the dominant economic model reinforces the pattern of limited land property for indigenous communities pushing these populations to survive mainly through the informal economy. In addition, the existence of a limited educational system and the prevalence of a dominant non-indigenous educational model increase the barriers limiting horizontal cohesion among indigenous populations. Third, the current situation of socio-environmental conflict is an example of the lack of political interest of protecting indigenous rights. Governments ignored the results of local consultation processes. In this regard, international cooperation played an ambivalent role. International programs supported the strengthening of civil and political rights. At the same time, once basic rights were used to claim other rights (economic, cultural), the lack of response by the state increased conflicts. In other words, there is an important gap between successful support to civil rights and political agency and failed support to strengthen the capacities of GUATEMALA: NATIONAL FRAGMENTATION, LOCAL COHESION 61 public institutions to deal with the increased demand for rights. This created high levels of social conflict. After years of international support and many programs to strengthen indigenous rights, communities concentrated long-held grievances around socio-environmental conflicts. Although the protest is against mining and hydropower projects, the central demand is for the respect of core civil and human rights. The democratic state and the international community must assume the tasks to respond to the empowerment of the indigenous population, as they cannot evade the related conflicts. Fourth, since the Catholic Church lost its religious monopoly in the mid-twentieth century, societal fragmentation is reflected in the increasing influence of Pentecostal organizations emphasizing extreme patterns of individualism and minimal critique of the social status quo. Neo- Pentecostal churches could have an important role in reducing the existing patterns of social fragmentation. However, they have a dispersed organizational structure that lacks clear programs and a unified strategy of support. The importance of spiritual discourse during a social protest is fundamental in the communal level of action. This is clear when some communities produce cohesion around the defense of a natural resource independently of religious differences. This cohesion is covered by a “religious mysticism,” which prevails beyond religious, ethnic, and other differences inside the communities. However, this cohesion tends to be sectarian and temporal because it is based on the identification of groups and individuals rather than deep communal ties.39 Another important element complicating the role of Neo-Pentecostal churches is the participation of their religious leaders in politics. At the national and the local level elections are marked by the existence of both open Evangelical candidates and also the use of religion as mechanism to increase the number of voters. At the local level, several mayors and other local authorities are also pastors of the local Evangelical church. President Jimmy Morales is an evangelical Protestant with a very conservative worldview. Fifth, high levels of social conflict regarding land use and its environmental consequences are a continuation of historical conflicts in rural areas. The experience of violence makes the organization and mobilization of protest difficult beyond the local level. The lack of the state’s respon- siveness and repressive approaches towards conflict leads to an escalation of violence. This situation is currently the most important threat to social and political stability. Long-term conflicts have triggered polarization inside communities where the influence of the mining private sector 62 O. ARGUETA AND S. KURTENBACH increases social tensions. The risk of violence is high due to the existence of private armies hired by the companies and the participation of organized criminal groups in the expropriation of land. Moving forward, mitigating conflicts among actors involved in socio-environmental conflicts is one of the main challenges for the government of Guatemala. Overall, international cooperation was not able to press for more than formal changes in the Guatemala case. The analysis shows that international cooperation stands in the middle of a political game between the interests of the state in using international resources to compensate structural deficits without changing its political agenda and the interests of international governments on funding transformation projects without taking political responsibility. The result is a loss of important opportunities to effectively orient international funding to the real needs of the population. The constant changes in the international agenda, the competition between international agencies, the high levels of bureaucracy, and the lack of contextualization of most development projects are barriers against the transformative potential of external aid directed toward improving social cohesion in Guatemala’s deeply divided society.

NOTES 1. Report of the Special Rapporteur on extrajudicial, summary or arbitrary executions, Philip Alston, Mission to Guatemala, February 19, 2007, A/HRC/4/20/Add.2, paragraph 42. 2. Around half of Guatemala’s population is considered to be indigenous; most of them are descendants of the Maya culture, a small percentage is of Garífuna and Xinca origin. Maya are divided into 24 different language groups; Xinka is another Maya descendent language group, while Garífuna are descendants of afro-Caribbean origins living mostly on the Caribbean coast. 3. The availability of ofﬁcial information regarding international cooperation is limited. The General Secretary of Planning of the Republic of Guatemala (SEGEPLAN) has only general information about international cooperation between states. The government does not control other forms of cooperation such as ﬁnancing through international religious foundations which is transferred directly to the national partners. 4. The work of the G-13 is found at: http://www.g13.org.gt/. 5. As a reaction to these restrictions the Catholic Bishop’s Conference launched its own project of historic memory (REMHI, Recuperación de la Memoria Historica) to document gross human rights violations during the war. REMHI began its investigations immediately in 1995 using the GUATEMALA: NATIONAL FRAGMENTATION, LOCAL COHESION 63

infrastructure of the Catholic Church and international donor funds. Besides some rivalries REMHI’s work was an important and substantial basis and supplement to the CEH. 6. How conﬂict prone the issue of memory is was shown by the murder of Bishop Juan Gerardi two days after he presented the report of the other truth commission REMHI in April 1998. 7. See, http://www.wfp.org/countries/guatemala/food-security. 8. PNUD (Programa de Naciones Unidas para el Desarrollo), Guatemala: Diversidad Étnico-Cultural, Informe Nacional de Desarrollo Humano 2005 (Guatemala: PNUD, 2005), 356. PNUD, Informe Nacional de Desarrollo Humano 2011/2012 (Guatemala: ¿Un país de oportunidades para la juventud? Guatemala, 2012). 9. Interview with Siglo 21, August 31, 2013. 10. Insight Crime, Grupos de poder en Petén: territorio, política y negocios (Washington, DC: Insight – Organized Crime in the Americas, 2011). 11. ENJU, Primera encuesta nacional de juventud en Guatemala, ed. Secretaria Ejecutiva del Servicio Cívico, 2011. http://www.oij.org/es_ES/publica cion/primera-encuesta-nacional-de-juventud-guatemala. 12. Interview with Matilde Gonzáles May 10, 2008. 13. Interview with Edelberto Torres Rivas May 7, 2013. 14. Interview with Peter Marchetti May 14, 2013. 15. Interview with Vitalino Similosh May 8, 2013. 16. Interview with Claudia Samayoa May 13, 2013. 17. Interview with Vitalino Similosh May 8, 2013. 18. Interview with Edelberto Torres Rivas May 7, 2013. 19. Interview with Claudia Samayoa May 13, 2013. 20. Interview with Vitalino Similosh May 8, 2013. 21. LAPOP (Latin American Opinion Survey), Cultura política de la democracia en Guatemala y las Americas, 2012: Hacia la igualdad de oportunidades (Guatemala: Vanderbilt University, USAID, 2012). 22. For further information on the church-based reconciliation project, Recuperation de la Memoria Historic (REMHI), see, http://www.remhi. org.gt/portal/, and for further information on the Commission for Historical Clariﬁcation (Comisión de Esclarecimiento Historic, CEH) see, https://www. usip.org/publications/1997/02/truth-commission-guatemala. 23. Interview with Claudia Samayoa May 13, 2013. 24. International Crisis Group, September 23, 2013. 25. Focus group ASIES May 6, 2013. 26. LAPOP, Cultura política de la democracia en Guatemala y las Américas, 2014: Gobernabilidad democrática a través de 10 años del Barómetro de las Américas (Guatemala: Vanderbilt University, USAID, 2015), 116. 64 O. ARGUETA AND S. KURTENBACH

27. Interviews with Padre Iznardo, May 3, 2013, Vitalino Similox, May 8, 2013, Jesús Pilar, May 13, 2013, Peter Marqueti, May 14, 2013, Sergio Camargo, May 14, 2013. 28. See, (http://www.iglesiacatolica.org.gt/20130426.pdf). 29. Interview Karen Ponciano, May 7, 2013. 30. http://panampost.com/marcela-estrada/2014/06/03/guatemala-68- union-leaders-murdered-before-a-single-arrest/. 31. Despite being the most uniﬁed actor in Guatemalan society, the Guatemalan oligarchy is not homogenous but has rather internal conﬂicts and divisions. Nevertheless, when their social and economic dominance was endangered these differences have always played a minor role. 32. Interview with Alejandra Erazo, May 7, 2013. 33. Ibid. 34. Interview with Pablo Franky, May 6, 2013. 35. Interviews SEGEPLAN Ma Alejandra Erazo, May 7, 2013, Bienvenido Argueta, May 9, 2013, Oscar López, May 10, 2013. 36. Prensa Libre, May 12, 2013. 37. Interview SEGEPLAN, May 2, 2013. 38. Interview with Medarda Castro, May 16, 2013. 39. Interview with Father Francisco Iznardo, May 3, 2013.

Otto Argueta is an associate researcher at the German Institute for Global and Area Studies and holds a Ph.D. in Political Science from the University of Hamburg, Germany. He is also a policy ofﬁcer with Interpeace Latin America, specializing in policy-relevant research on the relationship between social violence, crime, and political systems.

Sabine Kurtenbach is a political scientist and senior research fellow at the GIGA German Institute of Global and Area Studies in Hamburg, and holds a Ph.D. in Political Science from the University of Hamburg. Her research interests include peace processes, post-war societies, violence, security sector reform, and youth with a regional focus on Latin America and beyond. CHAPTER 4

Kenya: Identity and Insecurity in a Modernizing State

Fletcher D. Cox, James Ndung’u and Esther Njuguna

Severe post-election violence in Kenya in 2007–2008 caught the country and the international community by surprise. Over 1,500 fatalities were reported across multiple identity-based clashes that created widespread population displacement, especially in Rift Valley.1 In some cases, Internally Displaced Persons (IDPs) still have not returned to their home districts. In 2012, ethnic clashes escalated in Tana River, an area that had long experienced inter-group peace, also leading to widespread population displacement. Equally shocking were extreme acts of terrorism at the Westgate Mall in 2013 that led to nearly 70 civilian causalities and at Garissa University College in 2015. In total, 147 students were killed and 79 injured. In 2014 and 2015, government security forces intervened in clashes in Marsabit County in Northern Kenya and

F.D. Cox (*) Department of Political Science, William Jewell College, Liberty, MO, USA Sié Chéou Kang Center for International Security and Diplomacy, Korbel School of International Studies, University of Denver, Denver, CO, USA e-mail: [email protected] J. Ndung’u Á E. Njuguna Saferworld, Nairobi, Kenya e-mail: [email protected]; [email protected]

© The Author(s) 2017 65 F.D. Cox, T.D. Sisk (eds.), Peacebuilding in Deeply Divided Societies, Rethinking Political Violence, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-50715-6_4 66 F.D. COX ET AL. attempted to control ethno-religious riots in Mombasa and elsewhere along the coast. While these conﬂicts initially seem disconnected, all of them are, in fact, closely linked. Despite the fact that Kenya is the East African region’s most dynamic and fastest growing economy, the country has experienced a range of episodes of conﬂict and violence related to deep and persistent social fault lines. Patronage, clientelism, and ethnic politics at all levels of governance continue to generate social fragmentation and state fragility, and high levels of human insecurity continue to foster inter-group fear and vulnerability to outbreaks of ethnic violence. At present, a political coalition between two of the largest ethnic groups (Kalenjin and Kikuyu) holds the government together. Considering these groups engaged in violent clashes in 2007–2008, and in light of the rapidly shifting nature of ethnic coalitions within Kenya’s political system, it remains uncertain whether future electoral contests will be as peaceful as the elections conducted in 2013. Devolution and other reforms instituted under the 2010 Constitution offer new opportunities to address inequality in resource allocation and service delivery. However, ethnic-based competition remains rife at the national level and has been further decentralized to the county and local levels through constitutional reform. Spillovers from state failure in Somalia, rising social violence with symbolic religious characteristics, and rising religious radicalism also risk increasing social fragmentation, deepening the division between Christians and Muslims, and fostering continued armed violence across the country. Recurring episodes of identity-based violence have caused the concept of social cohesion to become a highly relevant and heavily debated topic in Kenya. Uniquely, the National Cohesion and Integration Commission (NCIC) guides various state-led (yet largely donor- supported) efforts to promote “unity in diversity.” It is not clear, however, that new peacebuilding institutions at the state-level are strong enough to overcome even stronger forces within the neopatri- monal regime structure that perpetuate fragmentation. The Kenya case, therefore, raises key questions regarding the nexus between statebuilding and peacebuilding in deeply divided societies, and provides important lessons about the extent to which international intervention impacts processes of institutional and social change necessary to develop more cohesive bonds between social groups and between the state and society. KENYA: IDENTITY AND INSECURITY IN A MODERNIZING STATE 67

The chapter presents four sets of findings. First, it assesses institutional path dependency related to Kenya’s colonial history. Second, it analyzes current challenges to and opportunities for improving trust and cooperation among identity groups. Third, it identifies and analyzes challenges to state legitimacy and effective, equitable service delivery as factors that can foster cohesion, before, fourth, presenting findings on the effectiveness and limitations of various programmatic efforts through which international donors, NGOs, and Civil Society Organizations (CSOs) aimed to impact social cohesion.

ASHORT HISTORY OF ETHNICITY AND FRAGILITY IN KENYA Identity-based allocation of state resources at the hands of Kenya’s political leadership remains one of the most fundamental sources of inter- ethnic group antagonism within the polity (Nasong’o 2000, 50). The nature of prior colonial administration shaped elite-level political behavior and the development of patronage as a key strategy for governance. Similar to many other African states, during the colonial period, Great Britain implemented divide and rule strategies in Kenya. Colonial policies involved territorial occupation through the use of violence (Ochieng and Atieno-Othiambo (1995, xiv), the accumulation of allies drawn from particular ethnic communities, the bureaucratization of military force, and economic support for pastoral and agricultural development in areas with indigenous groups deemed allies. Under colonial rule, linguistic groups were categorized as tribes and differences between tribes were emphasized, effectively establishing conditions for the emergence of rigid group identities and competitive relationships among ethnic groups (Mafeje 1971). Colonial policies increased the power, resources, and influence of ethnic groups who collaborated with the nascent state, effectively setting the stage for the rise of ethnic politics in Kenya (Berman 1999,26–27). Historical failures to construct a cohesive national identity among disparate ethnic communities continue to challenge contemporary efforts to foster a collective sense of national unity and a common destiny. Colonial administrative boundaries were based on ethnic identity as the primary unit of demarcation. At the same time, the colonial government allotted territories to Christian missionaries from various denominations, effectively linking ethnic identity with denominational identity. Under these conditions, colonial leadership, and later postcolonial leadership, 68 F.D. COX ET AL. found it difficult to meld diverse ethno-religious groups into a single nation state. The process of postcolonial state formation led to the “ethnicization” of the state. In other words, the process of state formation was shaped by patron-client loyalties, with some groups included within the state apparatus and others deeply excluded (Mogire 2000, 136). Elite political strategies shaped identity formation processes and contributed to the entrenchment of contentious relationships among ethnic groups. Elite power brokering defined national-level political dynamics in Kenya since the postindependence period, and early Kenyan leaders adopted behaviors very similar to colonial leaders, pursuing lifestyles similar to colonial elites. Postindependence leaders also perpetuated geospatial ethnic fragmentation. “Ethnic kingpins,” or “political entrepreneurs” with familial and ethnic linkages to politics used ethnic-based mobilization strategies to develop political support, effectively capitalizing on existing patterns of social fragmentation and contentious relationships among ethnic and religious groups. Over time, ethnic divisions in Kenya became increasingly useful for political actors. With a very high level of unemployment and the presence of multiple communities with limited access to basic services and work opportunities, politicians increasingly used tokenism, handouts, and political appointments to exert influence and garner support at the community level. This practice continues today in various forms, especially during elections. As a result, there is a deeply entrenched view that the presidency and other political offices function primarily as opportunities for appro- priation of national resources to the advantage and enrichment of one’s own ethnic group. Beyond using ethnic identity as a tool for political mobilization, historically, elites also directly constructed new identity-based coalitions as bases for support. For example, political elites constructed the “Kalenjin” identity, uniting seven distinct ethnic groups as a means to gain and maintain political power. Kalenjin, which means “I tell you,” was first used in 1948. To construct this ethno-political identity, during local campaigns, newly educated elites emphasized shared cultural attributes among the Keiyo, Kipsigis, Marakwet, Nandi, Pokot, Sabaot, and Tugen. This nurtured a sense of political unity among members of diverse groups, and crystallized shared political aspirations. Following Moi’s election into the Legislative Council under the Kalenjin alliance in 1957, the group has voted as a block in every general election. The Kalenjin alliance flourished KENYA: IDENTITY AND INSECURITY IN A MODERNIZING STATE 69 under the Moi presidency (Munene et al. 2010). In 2002 and 2013, Kalenjin leaders endorsed Uhuru Kenyatta. In 2007, Ruto was in Raila Odinga’s political coalition and thus the group supported the Odinga campaign.

ENDURING POVERTY AND INEQUALITY A number of long-running structural factors shape social fissures within Kenya. High inequality, extreme poverty, youth unemployment, competition over increasingly scarce land and economic resources, and the presence of populations of IDPs from other conflict zones in the region all contribute to inter-group competition and social fragmentation. Ethnic politics also plays a role in undermining economic growth in Kenya. A recent study at Harvard University suggests, “Kenya should be growing at 7% rather than 4%, the latest figure. The government is belatedly trying to improve the country’s shoddy infrastructure, for instance by building a series of multi-lane roads around Nairobi. But the political instability still puts off investors and corruption remains rife.”2 According to a recent report from Kenya’s Auditor General, nearly one- third of the national budget, roughly 303 billion Kenya Shillings (KES), cannot be accounted for and was most likely lost to corruption.3 In 2015, the Auditor General raised a red flag in an audit for 2013–2014 over questionable spending of 66.7 billion KES by 17 ministries and state departments. Authorities failed to produce documents to authenticate how the money was spent.4 High levels of corruption, patronage, and government inefficiency undermine state legitimacy and the development of a tax-mediated social contract. At the same time, economic scarcity and environmental factors increase resource competition. Under these conditions, ethnically oriented social organizations serve as primary sources of security. With high youth unemployment, political entrepreneurs and criminal gangs face minimal resistance in mobilizing ethnic youth groups for violent purposes.

CONTEMPORARY ETHNIC FRAGMENTATION IN KENYA The articulation of a national identity in Kenya has been an episodic agenda, undermined intermittently by exclusive ethno-centric narratives. During the struggle for independence, Kenyans rallied behind a nationalist 70 F.D. COX ET AL. agenda with high expectations for social, economic, and political equality in the new constitutional dispensation. The immediate postindependence era, however, saw political domination of a single ethnic group, the Kikuyu. This ultimately undermined Kenyatta’s original nationalist agenda.5 The Moi administration took a direct approach to constructing a national identity. Moi’s nationalist philosophy, dubbed “nyayo,”6 included three pillars: peace, love, and unity. It was institutionalized under the Moi regime through symbolic emblems, patriotic songs, the loyalty pledge, and the predominant Kenya African National Union (KANU) party. All of these symbols were directed toward generating support and legitimacy of the Moi regime, and consolidating power and control of the state (Adar 2000; Amutabi 2009. National unity, therefore, was geared toward the centralization of power in the presidency and tied to patronage and the distribution of state wealth and power. The end of the Moi regime was characterized by an overwhelming showcase of national unity driven by broad-based social demands for multiparty democracy and good governance. This moment of national unity, however, quickly dissipated due to internal political wrangles under the Kibaki presidency, largely informed by divisive ethnic narratives that ultimately set the stage for inter-group grievances that triggered 2007–2008 post-election violence. More recently, national holidays such as Jamhuri Day (Independence Day) have been signiﬁcant efforts to build a national identity, and the country recently celebrated 50 years’ of independence. Kenyans also demonstrate a sense of nationhood in international sports arenas, particularly around long-distance track events. The Olympics, in particular, provide a good example of Kenyans expressing support for athletes regardless of their ethnic background, and showcasing a sense of national pride and unity behind renowned athletes such as Kipchoge Keino, David Rudisha, Pamela Jelimo, Tegla Loroupe, and Ezekiel Kemboi among others. Similarly, recognition of key personalities such as Wangari Maathai, a Nobel Prize winner, and acknowledgement of Lupita Nyong’o, an accomplished actress, has also exhibited a sense of national pride and cohesion among Kenyans. Overall, a broader Kenyan national identity has been articulated in various ways over time to try to improve cohesion among Kenya’s42 ethnic groups. Respondents suggest, however, that progress toward a truly uniﬁed national identity is consistently undermined by patronage, political exclusion, and inter-group inequality and poverty. Discriminatory government practices, over time, have constructed contentious ethnic relationships, KENYA: IDENTITY AND INSECURITY IN A MODERNIZING STATE 71 rather than a lasting sense of national unity. Historical grievances, political exclusion, and deeply held stereotypes all undermine national cohesion.7

THE POTENCY OF ETHNIC IDENTITY Key factors related to modernization theories of nationbuilding are in place in Kenya, including national symbols, a flag, anthems, a national legal structure, rapid economic growth, urbanization, and the emergence of cosmopolitanism in urban centers. As such, some studies indicate that a cosmopolitan identity is beginning to emerge among the well-educated, rising middle class in Nairobi and other urban centers. Some polls, therefore, indicate a more cohesive national identity is beginning to take shape. Afrobarometer survey data, for example, suggests that, for the first time since 2011, “a majority of Kenyans (56%) reported that they feel more strongly linked to their identity as Kenyans than to their ethnic group”; they claim that, “evidence clearly suggests that Kenyans are increasingly embracing their national identity.”8 Even if many Kenyans are beginning to associate with a larger national identify, respondents also indicated that there is “a strong sense of Kenyan identity outside of Kenya, but not within Kenya.”9 Even the most highly educated citizens continue to maintain a deep respect for and connection with their ethnic lineage. As one research participant stated, “even the most urban and liberal Kenyans maintain deep local attachments to traditional communities –‘up country.’”10 Ethnic identification is resilient. Most citizens maintain deep attachments to traditional communities and identity-based affiliations. Rising wealth and educational attainment have not clearly caused the growing middle class to associate less with ethnic identity or vote less along ethnic fissures, suggesting an enduring tension between modernism and traditionalism.11 Inclusivity or perceptions of inclusivity within a political settlement often generates broad-based support, legitimacy, and confidence in the state. In the Kenya case, elite bargains are based on a broad coalition of ethnic communities. Political elites tend to establish a system of distribut- ing power and resources amongst themselves and their respective constituents. Political mobilization based on ethnic considerations creates expectations among groups of a system of rewards and benefits if the political camp they support is part of a coalition in power. For a majority of these ethno-political groups, however, the assumption that securing 72 F.D. COX ET AL. access to political power will lead to “human security” is largely symbolic. Economic security is not directly tied to access to state power and government positions. Handouts and redistribution are very minimal, and real gains from access to political power are not broadly shared outside of close family circles. Political elites, therefore, benefit from sustaining this myth. Using fear of exclusion and marginalization and mobilizing groups based on ethnic ties and inter-group stereotypes is a low-cost form of political mobilization.

RELIGION AND CONTENTIOUS POLITICS In general, respondents largely shared the view that religion in Kenyan society is a powerful force for social cohesion. In the words of one respondent, “all Kenyans are religious; even those who do not believe find something to believe.”12 The perception is that Kenyans are unified through the way religion functions as a common and central feature of social life, cutting across ethnic divisions. However, the relationship between religion and ethnicity in Kenya displays a high level of ambivalence. Religion both unites and divides at the local level and the national level. Over time, religious groups, associations, and inter-religious institutions have played variable roles in both fostering and undermining cohesion on both horizontal and vertical axes. Religious institutions often unify ethnic groups at the local level, helping to foster cross-cutting cohesion through shared religious practices and experiences. For example, many religious institutions function like the state in periphery regions, providing groups with equitable access to basic services such as education and health, and serving as platforms for peacebuilding and intra-religious dialogue. However, interviewees observed that religious tensions still occur at the local level. Inter-religious tensions tend to emerge during street preaching or open-air religious functions directed toward undermining other religious groups. Religion is also a social practice that, at times, has been commercialized for economic gain. Under conditions of economic scarcity, some respondents claim access to economic resources is a strong motivation for starting churches or mosques. Internal resources via tithes and offerings, or external resources via patrons from foreign countries, in some rural areas, provide significant sources of income.13 At the national level, however, religious institutions often generate social fragmentation and inter-group mistrust. High levels of symbolic KENYA: IDENTITY AND INSECURITY IN A MODERNIZING STATE 73 violence and terrorism framed with religious language, contentious debates around Islamic courts, and the political “capture” of intra-religious dialogue institutions are key instances where religion actors and organization directly undermine cohesion. There are occasional moments, however, when religious leaders at the national level have played a key role in unifying Kenyans, although this seems to happen mainly during national crises of high magnitude. Religion has multiple faces in Kenya. Religion functions, like ethnicity, as a potential foundation for social mobilization, which can be used for fostering cohesion or fragmentation under various contextual conditions.

THE ROLE OF RELIGION IN PROMOTING SOCIAL COHESION Historically, religious organizations played important roles in promoting cohesion in Kenya and notably transcended social cleavages to unite Kenyans often under common national interests. During the struggle for independence, African Independent Churches (AICs) were one of the earliest expressions of nationalism and played a key role in resisting colonialism. Liberation fighters and political figures used the church as a common platform to mobilize and unify Kenyans against colonial rule. However, even though AICs appealed to a broad spectrum of marginalized groups in Kenya, they were deeply ethnic-based in terms of institutional organization, similar to the political parties at the time (Kasomo and Maseno 2011). In the postcolonial era, inter-denominational Christian associations such as the National Council of Church in Kenya (NCCK) helped promote multiparty democracy and inter-ethnic cooperation in Kenya. A tragic of history of disappearances of religious leaders who spoke out against the state helped spark a more unified church voice against state abuses. For instance, respondents claimed religious leaders were very out- spoken against state abuses and operated as proponents of the need for inter-ethnic cooperation during the single party era under the Moi regime. A number of clergy from mainline Protestant denominations, under the umbrella body of NCCK, were extremely vocal in their demands for multiparty elections in the early 1990s. The Catholic Church, at the beginning, hesitated to join the rest of the clergy in the clamor for regime change, but, with the publication of pastoral letters in 1992, all Christian churches began to exert pressure on the government. Christian leaders such as Bishop David Gitari of the Anglican Church of Kenya (ACK), Rev. 74 F.D. COX ET AL.

Timothy Njoya of the Presbyterian Church of East Africa (PCEA), and others were influential figures who made significant contributions in the dismantling of Kenya’s one party and autocratic regime.14 At the same time, Evangelical and Pentecostal churches often were co-opted by Moi (whom they considered their own) to countercheck opposition from mainline church clergy. As a result, the Africa Inland Church, to which Moi was a member, withdrew its membership from NCCK. In contrast to unified action under the Moi regime, religious leaders have become much less vocal about abuses of power during the Kibaki and Coalition government eras. For example, Dr. Magaga Alot argues mainstream churches became comfortable with the political status quo, thereby abandoning the liberation theology that promoted social justice and equality, and helped drive political change during the Moi regime.15 Developments since Kibaki took over power in 2002 show that mainline churches have displayed retreat from more active public and civic roles. Several reasons help explain why this is the case. First, with the former opposition now in power, mainline churches had to resolve the dilemma of how to be the conscience of the nation without damaging a good working relationship with the Kibaki government. Second, observers believe the election of Kibaki in 2002 coincided with the election of new mainline church leaders who were less controversial, less vocal, and less political than their predecessors. Third, mainline churches were compromised and co-opted as partners in the governance processes by President Kibaki’s regime.16 This trend of co-option has also been visible in the current Kenyatta government particularly in reference to the ongoing trial of the Deputy President Ruto at the International Criminal Court (ICC). A large segment of the Christian community openly supported the dismissal of charges faced by the deputy as expressed in public prayers held in Central and Rift Valley.17 In this case, the church’s intervention has taken on an ethnic dimension with claims that the ICC is targeting one community over others. The use of religion and ethnicity, particularly by the elite and the church, has been a useful tool for garnering public support to push for the dismissal of the cases at the ICC. At present, the Inter-Religious Council18 has potential to play a role in marshaling a common voice for inter-ethnic reconciliation and sustainable peace in Kenya. Inter-religious groups across Kenya have significant access to the government, often greater than NGOs and other civil society actors. In its current state, however, the council faces key challenges. KENYA: IDENTITY AND INSECURITY IN A MODERNIZING STATE 75

Respondents report that the organization currently struggles due to a lack of inclusive policies and leadership, and due to “institutional capture” by dominant ethnic and religious groups who derive economic and personal beneﬁts from their positions in the organization.19 Another key problem for effective inter-religious institutions is the existence of complex, internal bureaucracies within particular religious traditions. For example, the Catholic Church has a hierarchical structure while Islamic mosques tend to have a horizontal leadership structure, which can hinder effective coordination and collaboration among religious bodies. Constituent members of inter-religious forums have experienced difﬁculty adapting to organizational challenges. In periphery areas of Kenya where formal state institutions are weak or absent, churches and mosques play critical roles in providing basic social services to marginalized communities. For example, the Catholic Church in Marsabit plays a central role in providing a broad spectrum of services where government institutionsareineffectiveorabsent.One respondent stated, “Theonlygovernmentweknowisthechurch.”20 Historically, churches constructed schools, hospitals, and wells where the state lacked capacity to provide basic services. In the rural periphery areas of Kenya, therefore, the key dilemma for “vertical” social cohesion is related to effective religious service provision. This may undermine state legitimacy among marginalized communities. For example, in periphery areas a common adage is that, “the state is a stranger, or even an enemy.”21

DIVISIVE RELIGION Christian denominations across Kenya tend to overlap with ethnic divisions. There is a high degree of alignment between religious identity and ethnic identity due to the fact that early missionaries mapped out particular groups to target based on colonial administration boundaries, which were based on ethnic categories. Just as colonists scrambled for access to the most productive agricultural land, missionaries scrambled for access to “unreached groups” and land on which to build mission centers. Similar to many countries throughout the global South, the number of citizens actively involved in Evangelical churches has spiked in recent years. Proselytism and pressure for conversion have, in some cases, contributed to rising inter-group suspicion and fear. Religiously motivated actors, especially proselytizing denominations in Christianity and Islam, tend to 76 F.D. COX ET AL. participate in politics as ethnic blocks, effectively linking religious identity to inter-ethnic group political competition and conflict.22 Denominational fragmentation also functions at the political level due to symbiotic relationships between religious leaders and politicians. Denominational leaders respond to economic incentives from politicians, on the one hand, and religious communities offer platforms for political mobilization, on the other hand. Religious leaders often maintain close ties with incumbent government actors and top political leadership in order to access status and economic benefits. For example, according to the Ndung’u Report23 and confirmed by respondents, many churches, mosques, and other faith-based institutions acquired land illegally through political connections. In some cases, religious institutions have been implicit in political corruption and the perpetuation of social injustices in Kenya, which has undermined their moral authority.

CHRISTIAN–MUSLIM TENSION While Christians and Muslims have coexisted relatively peacefully in Kenya, the relationship has been marred sporadically by mistrust and hostilities over religious ideological differences. The 2013 Westgate attack, the 2015 Garissa University attack and recent riots and ethno- religious violence in Mombasa, and fresh attacks in Nairobi and along the coast (e.g., Mpeketoni, inter alia) exacerbate this social division. Many respondents expressed fear of a counterresponse to radical Islam in the form of violent, Christian fundamentalism.24 Christianity has the largest following among Kenyans compared to Islam and other religions in the country. Although the spread of Islam along the coastal regions began well before that of Christianity, British imperial and colonial activities facilitated the rapid inland spread and expansion of Christianity. Kenyan Christians were the immediate beneficiaries of Western education that allowed them access to white collar jobs both during and after colonialism. Early education and economic opportunities were not available to Islamic communities. Latent tension and conflict between Muslims and Christians in Kenya largely revolves around ideological differences, fear, and mistrust. Tension escalates when minority Muslim groups raise political issues. In the coastal regions of Kenya, for example, tensions between indigenous and non- indigenous groups display sectarian cleavages. Historically, communities living along the coast were marginalized from mainstream political affairs KENYA: IDENTITY AND INSECURITY IN A MODERNIZING STATE 77 and had limited access to public resources under previous governments, both British and African, by virtue of their Islamic identity. Tensions are rife, presently, due to the migration of Christian ethnic groups to the coast, which creates tension between coastal communities and those from the “up-country.”25 Rising religious diversity on the Kenyan coast contributes to current tensions, but poverty, unequal access to land, and political marginalization play significant roles in reinforcing identity- based divisions. Tension between Christian groups and minority Muslim groups in Kenya also emerged during a national debate in 2005 around a constitutional entrenchment to protect Islamic Kadhis Courts. Some of the Christian clergy led by the Catholic archbishops, Anglicans, and other Pentecostal churches campaigned against the constitution on the basis that it elevated Islamic religion in Kenya. For the Muslim community, institutionalization of the Kadhis Courts within the constitution was a way of reducing religious marginalization (Abdulkader 2013). Christian clergy opposed, in particular, Article 169, which intended to establish Kadhis Courts as subordinate courts to deal with matters strictly related to sharia family law (i.e., marriage, divorce, property, and inheritance) in cases where all parties were Muslim. Christians, in general, had reservations about the Kadhis Courts debate, mainly based on fear and suspicion that the courts would serve as an avenue to expand sharia law.26 Although Christian groups opposed inclusion of Kadhis Courts during constitutional debates, the constitutional referendum was approved in 2010. Kadhis Courts now are protected through formal law. Christian leaders remain firm that the issues they raised during referendum debates still stand. This debate continues to divide Christians and Muslims, and negatively affects inter-religious dialogue initiatives at the national level.

NEGATIVE EXTERNALITIES FROM STATE FAILURE IN SOMALIA Many Somali clans have resided within Kenya for decades, even centuries in northeastern Kenya. State failure in Somalia, however, now generates negative spillover effects that impact Kenya’s social fabric and intensify hostile attitudes toward Somali minority groups. Kenya has been targeted for terrorist acts mainly due to its relationship with America and Israel, the rise of radical Islam due to perceived oppression from Christians, and, more recently Kenya’s military intervention into Somalia to curb Al- Shabaab. The 1998 bombing of the US Embassy in Nairobi, the 2002 78 F.D. COX ET AL. suicide bombing of the Israeli-owned Paradise Tourist Hotel in Mombasa, and the recent attacks at the Westgate shopping mall and Garissa University all reflect inter-religious group tensions. As a result, there is a strong association between “terrorism” and Islam in Kenya, such that terrorism is seen as a “Muslim problem.” International counterterrorism efforts in Somalia play a role in driving young unemployed men into participation in radical religious groups. At the personal and interpersonal level, perceived marginalization and exclusion from national resources, frustrated expectations, and relative group deprivation are key conditions for radicalization.27 For example, recent reports on the Westgate incident suggest that Kenyan youths, recruited and enlisted within Al Shabaab, organized the attacks. Kenyan youths, particularly those of Somali or Afro-Arab-Swahili origin and drawn from urban informal settlements such as Majengo in Nairobi’s Eastlands, have been linked to multiple Al-Shabaab activities.28 The Majengo settlement, with very low standards of living due to a lack of economic opportunities, in particular attracted the attention of security agencies after it was reported29 to be home to a large number of Muslim youth who joined Al-Shabaab in Somalia.30 Porous borders, spillover effects (e.g., low-cost arms, well-trained, ungoverned militia groups) from conflicts and state failure in Somalia, and an influx of refugees and IDPs are key conditions driving terrorist attacks by radical groups in Kenya. The Somalia problem in Kenya is made worse by security policies that have led to widespread targeting and violence against the Somali community.31 The Kenyan government has reacted aggressively against predominantly Muslim populations in response to rising acts of terrorism in the country. Somali and Muslim populations in Kenya have been the target of ethnic profiling and police crackdowns. Numerous reports from Human Rights Report, the Truth Justice and Reconciliation Commission (TJRC), and Amnesty International accused government security agencies for committing human rights abuses such as torture, arbitrary detention, and forced disappearances in search of actors involved in Al-Shabaab.32 Those targeted include suspected militants and supporters or sympathizers of Al-Shabaab.33 The government’s use of indiscriminate violence against Muslim communities has wider ramifications for relationships between Somalis – Kenyan and non-Kenyan – and other ethno-religious groups in the country. For instance, there is growing suspicion toward Somalis that has further been influenced by negative stereotypes that perpetuate the KENYA: IDENTITY AND INSECURITY IN A MODERNIZING STATE 79

Somali community as radical extremists.34 Indiscriminant raids and expul- sions also have been exploited by terrorists groups to rally support and recruits. In an already deeply divided society, crackdowns could further polarize communities and negate the hard-earned gains of other peacebuilding efforts.

STATE–SOCIETY RELATIONS IN KENYA A key puzzle for the Kenya case is that if politics remain deeply ethnic and divisive, why were elections so violent in 2007, yet largely nonviolent in 2013? Was improving social trust and cooperation among ethnic groups (horizontal cohesion) a factor? In our view, the more peaceful outcome in 2013 was ostensibly not related to significant changes in social cohesion. First and foremost, with indictments pending from the International Criminal Court, political leadership faced a strong disincentive for directly mobilizing youth groups for violence in 2013. Second, the two communities that historically have been involved in inter-group violence (Kikuyu and Kalenjin) supported the same political coalition, “Jubilee.” Third, with over 300,000 IDPs still unsettled, there was a strong sense of “conflict memory.”35 Still devastated by the loss of life and livelihoods, groups were less likely to mobilize for violence at that point in time. Fourth, political elites expressed confidence in new institutions judiciary and electoral commission before the elections, and signed commitments to respect the outcome of free and fair elections. A commitment to rule of law, allowed the judiciary and independent observers to determine and articu- late a clear outcome. Other key factors were also at play including the deployment of security forces to areas with high levels of tension, and the fact that many minority groups preemptively vacated areas that had experienced violence in 2007–2008. All of these factors helped create conditions conducive to peaceful elections.

POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS,ELITES, AND ETHNIC CENSUS VOTING Kenya, at present, has a mixed-majoritarian electoral system. According to the 2010 constitution, to win the presidency a candidate must win more than 50% of the popular vote as well as a minimum of 25% of the votes within half of all 47 counties (Ongoya and Otieno 2012). The nature of 80 F.D. COX ET AL. multiparty democracy in Kenya generates conditions conducive for identity-based conflict. This is clearly evident within Kenya’s long history of general elections that have all displayed ethnic-based voting patterns (Bratton and Kimenyi 2008). Across elections, elites promote ethnic divisions as they compete for resources, power, and influence. Votes are cast by “ethnic census.” In the 2013 election, ethnic census voting behavior formed the foundation for political party mobilization strategies based on Ngunyi’s notion of the “tyranny of numbers,” a concept that multiple respondents referred to in relation to ethnic politics and coalitions. Ngunyi postulated a “winning” formula for the incumbent government based on the mobilization of votes from the two major ethnic blocs (GEMA [Gikuyu, Embu, and Meru Association] and Kalenjin). Moreover, insights from key respondents indicate that Kenyan politicians have a very large amount of power to shape social attitudes. “Blind following of politicians” leads to the construction of negative stereotypes as politicians play off of deep emotions within groups. One respondent stated, “We disagree [with divisive identity politics] but we do not know how to untie ourselves from it.”36 This statement captures an important sentiment: while Kenyans, on one hand, are keenly aware of the ways elites abuse ethno-political rhetoric and largely see this as a negative behavior, on the other hand, ethnic political mobilization is deeply entrenched expectation among both elites and masses. In other words, citizens do not see viable alternatives. Both elites and masses accept divisive ethnic politics as the status quo. Political power is also a source of intra-group pride, which can create a strong sense of bonding social capital. Over time, exclusion from political power generates feelings of exclusion and marginalization among “bonded” yet fragmented minority groups. Even with newly devolved government structures and institutional reforms meant to significantly reduce executive power, the presidency is still the “natural home of political power” (Mueller 2008). The presidency is an “ethnic trophy”– a powerful symbol that generates group esteem and expectations for direct benefits among the victorious ethnic constituency (Mueller 2011). In reality, however, the average citizen benefits very little, economically, from the president or a senior public appointee being “one of us.” Economic benefits associated with senior public appointments have a large financial impact at the family/household level, and merely trickle down to other members of ethnic groups through patronage, nepotism, and informal donations which are difficult to measure.37 KENYA: IDENTITY AND INSECURITY IN A MODERNIZING STATE 81

NEW INSTITUTIONS FOR COHESION:CONSTITUTION MAKING AND DEVOLUTION In the wake of 2007–2008 post-election violence, the signing of the National Accord in 2008 and the approval of a new constitution in 2010 created momentum for initiating and implementing wide-reaching institutional reforms designed to build social cohesion across Kenya. The four agenda items of the National Accord and new constitutional amendments serve as a framework for reforming governance and security institutions to improve service delivery and make it much more accountable and equitable across the country. While there has been remarkable progress on institutional reforms and a very progressive constitution was passed by referendum, numerous outstanding issues have beset positive transformation (Munene 2012). New institutions intentionally designed to foster social cohesion and reduce ethnic conﬂict vulnerability have not been as effective as many citizens had hoped.38 Most importantly, formal rules of inclusivity in parliament and across the various arms of government have not led to redressing of inequalities or reducing ethnic politics through the formation of issue-based, cross-cutting political coalitions. For example, respondents suggest that the “legal approach” (formal institutional reforms) to addressing Kenya’s structural problems has largely failed because government institutions, especially the parliament, have continually watered down legislation meant to foster inclusivity and inter-group cooperation in governance. Political institutions have failed to support cohesion in a multiethnic society, as they have been captured and manipulated by elites to protect political and economic interests (wa Gĩthĩnji and Holmquist 2008). Political parties, in particular, have failed to represent Kenyans on issue-based concerns.

DEVOLUTION AND LOCAL IDENTITY CONFLICT Local governance reform or “devolution” highlights critical issues related to the current dynamics of state–society relations within Kenya. Following generally peaceful elections in 2013 and the ICC trial of leaders implicated in ethnic violence following the election of 2007, as ICG describes, “Kenyans now anticipate the full force of reforms that aim to redress grievances against centralized governance and uneven economic development. Through devolved government, the 47 counties, with their own elected governors and assemblies, will seek to tackle socio-economic 82 F.D. COX ET AL. inequalities.”39 As such, devolution is geared toward restoring trust in centralized government leaders and structures (vertical cohesion), as well as providing new avenues for cross-cutting participation in county-level governance (horizontal cohesion). Some analysts predict devolution, over time, will improve social cohesion, especially if local-level political behaviors begin to change and citizens learn about new institutions that they have access to for holding leaders to account. However, if underlying structural drivers of fragmentation such as poverty and exclusionary politics are not addressed adequately at all levels of governance, devolution risks reproducing exclusionary forces at the county level. This is early evidence in some counties that administrations have entrenched the culture of corruption and citizen exclusion in key governance processes. According to the Ethics and Anti-Corruption Commission (EACC) there have been irregularities in local procurement processes, budget planning, and expenditure as well as staff hiring following a preliminary assessment local government performance across all 47 county governments in 2014.40 County government structures will shift the focus away from the all- powerful presidency, to some degree, but growing aversion toward the national government will continue to undermine state–society relations. Presently, counties that overwhelmingly voted for the opposition are strongly loyal to the county government to the extent that they dismiss the national government. Consequently, state legitimacy might get increasingly undermined as negative narratives about the central government are promoted, as recently manifested in rising tension between the Council of Governors and the National Treasury. Similarly, inter-group relationships in such situation will be weakened as nonissue-based politics takes root. Devolution, if not properly operationalized and reﬂective of good governance principles, could undermine social cohesion.

INTERNATIONAL INTERVENTION IN KENYA:STABILIZING FAULT LINES? Donors view Kenya as a pivotal state for regional stability in the Horn of Africa and Great Lakes regions. As such, Kenya hosts multiple, large-scale security and peacebuilding interventions, including Somalia, South Sudan, and Northern Uganda. Donors also are working to address a broad spectrum of root drivers of instability and conflict in Kenya, including election-related violence, financial crises and economic instability, climate KENYA: IDENTITY AND INSECURITY IN A MODERNIZING STATE 83 change and desertification, youth unemployment, and increasing small arms violence.41 The larger UN strategy focuses on three strategic program areas: (1) governance and human rights; (2) empowerment of poor and vulnerable populations, and (3) sustainable and equitable economic growth. Within this larger framework, peace and reconciliation serves as a “cross-cutting” issue.42 The UN sees its approach as complimentary to the government’s development strategy called, “Vision 2030.” Through UN- funding mechanisms, over the past five years, USD635 million have been directed toward achieving these three main outcomes.

DEVELOPMENT COOPERATION FOR COHESION Specific to the goal of promoting peace and reconciliation, in 2010, following intensive collaboration among a “Conflict Donors Working Group,” peacebuilding actors committed to employing the “community security and social cohesion approach” in Kenya.43 This group of donors developed a conceptual and strategic framework to guide and coordinate peacebuilding and conflict prevention programming across the country. Over the past five years, through the United Nations Development Program (UNDP) country office, close to USD13 million went to various types of nation-wide peacebuilding programming, including the Collaborative Leadership Program, support for the development of District Peace Committees under the National Steering Committee on Conflict Management and Peace Building (NSC), a program on small arms reduction (SALW), and support for the development of an International Peace Training Center. UNDP, through its collaborative leadership forum, played a key role in facilitating high-level political dialogues before and after the 2007 elections. The collaborative leadership forum initiative, which received support from the Speaker of the National Assembly, brought together executive and the Prime Minister representatives, political parties, religious leaders, the peace building community, media, and civil society. In the lead up to the 2010 constitutional referendum, UNDP assisted the government and civil society in developing and implementing an early warning and response system using mobile technology and online mapping of ethnic conflict events. This effort identified and helped reconcile 150 incidents of ethnic conflict, and helped political parties reach consensus on the draft constitution before the vote. The early warning system is consolidated in a country-wide conflict prevention and early response framework, and was deployed during general elections in March 2013.44 84 F.D. COX ET AL.

Beyond the larger UN intervention, and in light of all of the aforementioned social fault lines within Kenya that contribute to conditions of instability, violence, and marginalization, a large spectrum of international actors, NGOs, and CSOs have sought to intervene through various programmatic efforts designed to mend contentious social divisions (at the horizontal level) and improve the capacity of the state to effectively manage ethnic diversity and equitably distribute state resources (vertical level).

ENGAGING SOCIETY IN PEACEBUILDING To what extent have international development partners sought to promote, directly and indirectly social cohesion in Kenya, and what lessons have been learned from the various ways in which external or internal actors have sought to improve or extend social cohesion in Kenya? First, in terms of the horizontal-subjective context (society-level, attitudinal), a broad number of donor organizations supported and employed direct dialogue projects aimed at mending contentious inter-group relationships and changing antagonistic perceptions and attitudes toward the “other,” especially within the wake of post-election violence in 2007–2008 (Brown 2009; Nebe 2012). For instance, external donors such as Department for International Development (DFID), United States Agency for International Development (USAID), Netherlands, Finland, Sweden (SIDA [Swedish International Development Cooperation Agency]), Canada (CIDA [Candian International Development Agency]), the EU as well as development partners like UNDP helped to support local CSOs in developing “local capacities for peace,” providing technical support for peace dialogues that served as the foundation for follow up development interventions to address key inter-group grievances.45 Other internationally supported interventions to help forge social unity include peace marches or “caravans,” local peace education programs, peace messaging via SMS systems, and support for “Councils of Elders” as “alternative dispute management mechanisms.”46 Councils of Elders are thought to help foster peaceful ethno-communal relationships through the development of communal social contracts and declarations to help manage unique local conflict dynamics and help to delegitimize violence. Program managers of local-level (horizontal), dialogue-based interventions claim that these types of interventions are highly effective for rees- tablishing inter-group trust and normalizing inter-group relationships in the wake of communal conflict. Respondents iterated multiple stories of KENYA: IDENTITY AND INSECURITY IN A MODERNIZING STATE 85 inter-group reconciliation and cases of successful reintegration of minority IDPs following local-level dialogues. Inter-religious dialogues and trainings designed to help local leaders develop skills for conflict management, in many cases, effectively developed cross-cutting social networks that improved information sharing among groups. This is a critical component due to the fact that, as Glaeser describes, a lack of incentives for groups to learn the “truth” about other groups (or reformulate negative ethnic stereotypes) generates conditions conducive to the political construction of inter-group hatred (Glaser 2005). Peace dialogues and the so-called software47 of peacebuilding can function to generate incentives for information sharing and exchange that can generate relational networks that can counteract divisive political rhetoric. Even though donors supported multiple, successful dialogue-based interventions in various communities across Kenya, this approach to fostering social cohesion faces key challenges. Respondents with expertise in designing and implementing local-level dialogue projects in violent contexts report that the instability of aid flows undermines implementation. In particular, there are very few resources available for “preemptive” peacebuilding (including dialogue and reconciliation projects) relative to resources that become available for direct post-conflict aid. The majority of donor funds go toward projects that react to extreme violence, rather than promote long-term cohesion and stability. Attitudinal change among groups with deeply held grievances is a long-term process, while dialogue funding is short term. At the same time, under conditions of resource scarcity, there is often low capacity for mobilizing local resources for supporting community peace initiatives. With both unstable international funding and low levels of “local buy in,” long-term inter-group dialogue projects are difficult to sustain. Legitimacy of local actors involved in dialogue-based interventions is another area of concern for peacebuilding practitioners. Even though donors have strict criteria for selecting and engaging actors, there is always a challenge accessing actors with capacity to reach out to a critical mass of people to effect positive change. Local “gatekeepers,” or political actors interested in maintaining the status quo, often hijack interventions. To overcome this barrier, donors must move beyond expert-led analyses that focus on national political elites and traditional security actors and to reach out to ordinary people and to those beyond national capitals whose voices are rarely accessible to or heard by an international audience.48 86 F.D. COX ET AL.

These challenges are compounded by the fact that donor organizations require detailed quantitative measurement of programmatic outcomes. Social cohesion is difficult to measure and there is no clear set of indicators of cohesion established for the Kenya context.49 The absence of violence does not directly relate to the presence of peace-sustaining social cohesion. Therefore, program managers report difficulties in making a clear case for the effectiveness of local peacebuilding efforts in the terms demanded from donor organizations. Moreover, international NGOs working within Kenyan civil society often generate bonding social capital rather than bridging social capital. International NGOs often “play the game” of peacebuilding and development along ethnic boundaries and via ethnic social networks in order to gain access to particular regions and develop institutional legitimacy (Orvis 2003). In this way, International Non- governmental Organization (INGO) interventions can strengthen intra- group solidarity, as groups seek to protect access to international resources, and even create and inter-group divisions, increasing competition over scarce development resources. Overall, dialogue-based peacebuilding in the Kenyan case has been effective for addressing localized social fear and fragmentation, but the impact of horizontal-subjective interventions rarely “cascade upward” to impact levels of inter-group trust at the national level. Second, in terms of the horizontal-objective dimension of social cohesion (society-level, behavioral), many donor-funded programs in Kenya aim to build inclusive local governance institutions in order to create arenas for cross-cutting participation within local conflict management processes. For example, the current peace infrastructure in Kenya, supported by UNDP and others, was designed to mirror the provincial administration structure.50 At the provincial level there is the Provincial Peace Forum (PPF); at the district level there are District Peace Committees (DPC); at the Divisional level there are Divisional Peace Committees (DvPCs); and at the location level there are Location Peace Committees (LPCs). In some areas, there are sub-location and even village peace committees. Kenya’s “peace architecture” has many components: local voluntary actors for peace, peace education, District Peace Committees, cohesion monitors, and county mediators (trained by CSOs). All of these mechanisms have been supported through the UNDP and the UWIANO platform (Uwiano platform for peace, see, http://www.ke.undp.org/content/kenya/en/ home/operations/projects/peacebuilding/uwiano-peace-platformproject. html), a large network of local pacebuilding organizations. KENYA: IDENTITY AND INSECURITY IN A MODERNIZING STATE 87

In 2001, the National Steering Committee on Peace Building and Conflict Management was established within the Ministry of Internal Security in the Office of the President. It became operational in November 2002 with the placement of a secretariat. The formation of the NSC was a culmination of government efforts to bring locally driven peace initiatives under the ambit of a national peace architecture. The establishment of district peace committees in all of Kenya’s districts following a recommendation from the National Accord and Reconciliation Act of 2008 was a step further to galvanize the peace infrastructure.51 Anationalpolicyonpeace- building and conflict management was approved in July of 2015. The new peace policy refocuses, “peacebuilding and conflict management efforts and practices towards measures that increase the potential for peaceful coexistence and human security as precursors for sustainable development, and a just and peaceful society.”52 Furthermore, it is envisioned that the policy will be integrated into other national development frameworks to “institutionalize a culture of peace” across Kenya. The new policy framework creates a mandate for a National Peace Council (NPC) that will consist of both state and non-state actors and serve as a platform for collaboration and coordination of peace actors at the national level. At the county level, there is provision for a County Peace Secretariat (CPC) that will coordinate local peace work and monitor and support the work of Local Peace Committees (LPCs).53 There are great expectations that the adoption and implementation of the new peace policy will provide both a stronger foundation and more resources for local peacebuilding organizations and conflict management initiatives across the country. Many peace practitioners tout LPCs as highly successful institutions for generating local-level social cohesion and lowering conflict vulnerability in areas in Kenya that have experienced recurrent violence.54 Many analysts identify Kenya as a “success case” for effective LPCs. The first LPC in Wajir emerged in 1993 from the ground up. A group of women formed a civil society group that successfully formulated local solutions to inter-group violence along the border between Kenya and Somalia. The model was so successful, in fact, that the UNDP helped establish similar “local infrastructures for peace” across multiple districts in Kenya. In many conflict-affected communities, LPCs have served as platforms for “collective efficacy;” that is, LPCs provide an institutional framework for the development of local solutions among conflict actors to drivers of violence specifictothatregion. Notwithstanding the reported success of LPCs, multiple respondents involved in developing and managing LPCs across Kenya indicated that 88 F.D. COX ET AL. many committees have underperformed for fostering horizontal social cohesion due to “political capture” within the shift from “bottom up” local peace architectures to state-driven institutionalization of district peace committees. Many locally developed structures for peace, including traditional council of elders, peace committees, and community social contracts have disintegrated over time due to government interference and tension between local government structures and LPCs. At the county level, government administrators desire to function as “gate-keepers” or entry points for any financial support provided to peace committees, which undermines the effectiveness and independence of the institution, and decreases voluntarism necessary for institutional effectiveness where resources are limited. In many cases, politicians have exerted power over LPCs to take advantage of their legitimacy, mobilization capacity, and accesses to resources such that DPCs’ role of connecting the state and communities has been on decline. To illustrate, the focus group from Isiolo reported that LPCs in their region have experienced a process of “political capture,” and that the “provincial political administration spoiled local peace institutions.” Initially, the District Peace Committee in Isiolo, in their view, became “more effective for solving conflicts than the government” such that district officers saw the DPC as a problem. As the voluntaristic organization became too powerful in the view of local politicians, politicians worked to gain more influence over their operations by influencing the process of electing DPC members so that they have in place people they can manipulate for their own interests. Whereas the NSC at the national level has been instrumental in coordinating peace action countrywide, it had very limited resources and became a “hybrid” institution with funding from both the government and international donors. Operating in highly politicized environment has made its work challenging in some areas. In the view of the focus group, “DPCs were formed by the community, but they were later hijacked by politicians. District commissioners wanted to capture donor resources being directed to DPCs while politicians wanted to use them as mobilization platforms.” In other words, access to government resources created new jobs for peacebuilders, a benefit, but it also required alignment with the government’s interests. The bureaucratization of peace committees caused the original, local informal institution to diverge from its original purpose and lose its voluntaristic spirit. Where the notion of justice is linked to local cultures and practices the informality of peace structures needs to be protected. KENYA: IDENTITY AND INSECURITY IN A MODERNIZING STATE 89

Political “gatekeepers” can prevent effective monetary support for DPCs. Donors, in a sense, “commercialized LPCs,” which led to introduction of competing external interests, corruption, and political contests for control. LPCs in Kenya function within a “grey area of governance” and display tension between state and society, or the problem of horizontal fragmentation – especially in terms of foundations and perceptions of institutions for justice. Overall, the formalization of peace architecture at state level has been problematic. Much peacebuilding work in the country and institutional development either circumvents the state or remains local and informal.

ENGAGING THE STATE IN PEACEBUILDING AND INDIRECT APPROACHES TO SOCIAL COHESION Institutions designed to directly encourage the formation of a more cohesive national identity, build inter-ethnic networks, and increase social trust are now in place in Kenya. The National Cohesion and Integration Commission (NCIC)55 is the principal bureaucratic institution at the helm of nation-wide efforts to change inter-ethnic group attitudes and construct a more cohesive, peaceful national identity. Taking up a broad and challenging mandate to foster a more inclusive national identity and greater inclusion of minority groups within government bureaucracies, the NCIC conducts and funds multiple programs, including national televised dialogues, peace education to foster nonviolent forms of conflict management, and support for CSO initiatives to foster ownership and sustainability for local, “ground up” initiatives geared towards social cohesion. Banners designed by the NCIC to promote peace and “unity in diversity” (pamoja) are displayed prominently on billboards and over- passes throughout the country. The institution is well placed with significant technical capacity to engage in local peace and reconciliation work at the community level; however, the most difficult aspect of the mandate is addressing government impunity, promoting policy reforms related to the inclusion of marginalized voices within formal bureaucratic structures, and helping build the capacity of government institutions to effectively deliver on their promises to become more inclusive. In other words, respondents suggest the most challenging task for the NCIC is trying to change political behavior among elites and delegitimize cronyism entrenched 90 F.D. COX ET AL. across government bureaucracies.56 The NCIC also attempts to delegitimize ethnic politics among youth through education reform and the inclusion of peacebuilding concepts within the national curriculum. In light of the fact that international donors57 provide the majority of funding for the NCIC, rather than the state, respondents suggest cohesion is not a true priority for the incumbent regime. Moreover, very few citizens are aware of the multiple functions of the NCIC; in many circles it has become known as the “hate speech commission” due to the fact that the National Cohesion and Integration Act58 gives the organization power to prosecute politicians for the use of hate speech. It has been involved in a number of highly contested court cases. With a majority of Kenyans practicing various Protestant Christian traditions, the NCCK is a powerful institutional platform that operates as a voice for mainstream denominations due to its broad-based network of churches. The NCCK promotes a philosophy that “recognizes identity as important element of societal interactions that need to be respected.”59 NCCK’s role in enhancing social cohesion has been through its peace building (pamoja program) that has supported inter-ethnic and inter-faith dialogue at the grassroots as well as national levels. These programs work to help communities understand political processes and expose communities to other countries that have experienced ethnic conflict. The NCCK, for example, organizes trips to Rwanda with a view toward helping ethnic- group leaders appreciate the impacts of identity violence. Another key state-level institution, the Truth, Justice, and Reconciliation Commission (TJRC), was created by Parliament through the Truth, Justice and Reconciliation Act of 2008.60 The state has failed to adequately support the TJRC’s work. By their stature and position in society, political leaders, especially the president (Kibaki) and the Prime Minister (Odinga), play key roles in steering the nation toward national unity and reconciliation. However, executive support for the TJRC was inconsistent.61 The fact that senior politicians are mentioned in the TJRC report has made implementation of the TJRC recommendations very difficult. Truth and reconciliation is, indeed, a deeply “political project.”62 The new constitution in Kenya has been touted by many as being one of the most progressive constitutions in Africa. Multiple international actors, technical advisors, and donors supported the constitution-building process. The document includes a very progressive bill of rights that guarantees freedom of expression, conscience and belief, gender equality, and media freedom.63 The constitution also guarantees parliamentary seats to KENYA: IDENTITY AND INSECURITY IN A MODERNIZING STATE 91 marginalized groups and prohibits discrimination. As such, multiple formal institutional reforms have been made that should contribute to addressing historical grievances and generating positive levels of trust toward the state. However, the “legal approach” to cohesion continues to face challenges. International norms are now embedded within the formal Kenyan constitution. Realities on the ground, however, suggest that traditional, ethno-centric social order remains the dominant form of socio- political organization. Theoretically, aiding in improving the capacity of the state to provide equitable public services and to extend its coverage to historically marginalized areas through country governments should be a key aspect of fostering social cohesion. In line with this thinking, constitutional reforms are in place to improve state service provision at the local level. For example, the Social Budget Observatory Framework now provides citizens with the right to hold government workers accountable for how public funding is spent in their constituencies. In addition, county assemblies provide oversight over county governments. More equitable resource allocation to the most marginalized counties, however, has become a source of tension between national and county governments. Counties are requesting increased allocations of up to 40%. The national government is opposed to such recommendations for a number of reasons. First, national leaders claim devolution will increase corruption and lead to the mismanagement of funds at the county level. In many cases, local governments lack basic capacity to manage resources. Tension between these two levels of government had an effect on societal relations. Kenyans generally support efforts by the national government to increase oversight over county spending. At the same time, more tension has been generated between the senate and county governments, on the one hand, and parliament and county governments on the other, especially around the extent of oversight that parliament and senate should provide over county governments. In effect, equitable service delivery for the people has been very poor. Spending priorities in most counties are misguided, raising questions about the capacity of county governments to effectively provide public services equitably and efficiently.

ENGAGING THE RELIGIOUS SECTOR IN PEACEBUILDING Inter-religious institutions and inter-religious councils are well established across Kenya and have very high levels of capacity to contribute to cohesion. Religious actors are involvedinaddressingsocialneedsof 92 F.D. COX ET AL. communities particularly in the areas of health, education, relief, and overall delivery of basic social services. Religious institutions, particularly Christian churches and related Faith-Based Organizations (FBOs), play a crucial role in providing basic services for communities in marginalized areas due to the absence of the state. Religious actors also play a key role in conflict resolution and transformation especially in matters of reconciliation, trauma, and psychological healing.64 Several studies indicate development partners increasingly realize the correlation between faith and poverty alleviation and, correspondingly act to include religious institutions in processes of aid delivery and peacebuilding practice (DFID 2006). Across the country donors, NGOs and CSOs engage with religious actors for many reasons, such as building upon existing relationships of trust with communities, taking advantage of capacity to mobilize internal human and financial resources, and to develop more extensive networks among FBOs and CSOs at the local level (Bandy et al. 2008;Boyd2009). One of the most common challenges confronting donors and religious actors, like most development partners, is the problem of short-term funding. While rapid, crisis-related interventions by religious actors often effectively yield local peace agreements, and reintegrated communities, social transformation is a long-term process. Additionally, the question of measuring impact of external actors on social trust and views toward “the other” is equally challenging for donors, as it often does not fit with indicators provided to gauge success of interventions (Boyd 2009). Peacebuilding programs that engage with religious actors to take advantage of local networks, knowledge, and capacity are often the first to get cut when donor priorities shift, or new, more pressing conflicts emerge in other locations. The fact that there are scarce resources for preemptive peace work being done by churches and FBOs, often causes this set of actors to spend more time competing for scarce funding, than collectively organizing and engaging in local peace work.

ROADBLOCKS AND PATHWAYS TO SOCIAL COHESION Principal findings from the case study identify four factors that have the potential to improve social cohesion in Kenya, and cause social groups in the country to move toward a collective vision of a common destiny and more peaceful coexistence. First, everyday cross-cutting social interactions are prevalent in Kenya. Improvements in human security are likely to continue KENYA: IDENTITY AND INSECURITY IN A MODERNIZING STATE 93 to foster deepening of cross-cutting social engagement within multiple social spheres, including religion, culture, sport, education, and business. All of these areas function as arenas for cultural learning about and increasing networks of engagement with “other” groups. Constructive, rather than destructive, group competition can occur within these social spheres, and could continue to foster cohesion, especially if Kenya’s relatively dynamic economy continues to grow rapidly, steadily, and inclusively. Cross-cutting social interactions within the economic sphere, in particular, help citizens learn to navigate a system of complex identities in a modernizing state. Urbanization and the emergence of more cosmopolitan identities could improve cohesion and lessen conflict vulnerability in Kenya. Some scholars argue that in deeply fragmented societies like Kenya, “cosmopolitanism rather than a strong sense of nationhood” is a strong alternative for holding groups together.65 Where cosmopolitanism is lacking, parochialism often emerges as the alternative. In Kenya, parochialism materializes where local actors construct narratives around threats from “outsiders” and their potential to disrupt status quo power dynamics.66 Urbanization and economic growth, therefore, even if they do not fully disrupt attachments to traditional ethnic identities, could continue to reduce parochialism and fragmentation as actors develop shared economic interests in growing urban centers. Second, conflict memories, critical junctures, and influential leaders have the capacity to foster greater social cohesion in Kenya. Deep memories of the high cost of ethnic violence can foster future cohesion; however, it remains important to recognize that historical memories can be manipulated by political elites, and competing interpretations of conflict events can be a driver of fragmentation and conflict. Significant events can also be interpreted by elites to justify violence in the name of religion or to defend a particular ethnic group. Third, in the wake of post-election violence in 2007–2008, Kenya successfully reformed a number of key state institutions and took bold steps toward increasing inclusivity in governance. Even though these institutions have not yet fully changed entrenched political behaviors such as clientelism and prebendalism, these new institutions could continue to generate cohesion over time. The extent to which this will happen depends on levels of trust in formal institutions, especially in institutions designed to foster “national cohesion.” The pursuit of cohesion will require overcoming impunity, ethnicization of institutions, and politicization of institutions. 94 F.D. COX ET AL.

With low collective trust in the state apparatus, inter-group relations could continue to be shaped by political rhetoric. The current, ongoing process of devolution of power could prove to decrease antagonism between the state and the society and possibly improve confidence in the state apparatus. New local accountability mechanisms and institutions for governance accountability at the county level, such as the new Social Budget Observatory Framework and county assemblies have some capacity to foster cohesion vis-à-vis improving service provision at the county level. Whether or not this happens is contingent upon citizens learning to use new institutions to hold leaders accountable for the effective use of public funds. Fourth, local civil society institutions and the larger “peace architecture” in Kenya have a lot of potential to foster cohesion. Inter-religious institutions and inter-religious councils are well established and generally respected across the country. Their effectiveness, however, is contingent upon overcoming “political capture,” bureaucratic inefficiencies, and limiting cases where religious leaders commit social injustices. Local peace structures have seen some success in limiting violence and promoting horizontal cohesion in terms of inter-group governance of local resource conflicts. The presence of well-established peace-building infrastructure under the coordination of the NSC through the new peace policy and the NCIC (with its national cohesion mandate) provide a high level of potential for advancing the national cohesion agenda in Kenya. The key for success of these institutions will be extending the agenda from national level through to grassroots institutions.

ROADBLOCKS TO COHESION IN KENYA Ethnic politics remains the key intervening variable undermining full progress toward cohesion in Kenya. The behavior of political elites regularly undermines cohesion, both horizontal and vertical. As depicted by the 2007–2008 outbreak of violence, communities that coexisted peacefully for decades engaged in violence against each other largely due to political positions driven by ethnic interests.67 Mistrust amongst communities was exacerbated by fear of the unknown. Even though cross-cutting social engagement occurs in everyday life (religious, economic, business, families, shared traditions), the “rules of the game” for politics and state resource allocation remain deeply divisive and played out in terms of ethnic competition, which creates uncertain and societal fear. Whether KENYA: IDENTITY AND INSECURITY IN A MODERNIZING STATE 95 or not “unity in diversity” will be realized in Kenya, depends greatly upon whether or not domestic political elites truly decide to turn rhetoric about “cohesion” into reality. Second, entrenched forms of marginalization, exclusion, and inequality also stand in the way of progress toward cohesion in Kenya. Periphery areas have long experienced the highest levels of poverty, underdevelopment, and marginalization. With the recent discovery of resources like oil, the state is now paying more attention to the periphery through ﬂagship projects aimed at entrenching and safeguarding the interests of the state. However, as some respondents suggested, this process is disguised as taking services and infrastructure to the people. Extractionary “development” will likely function to deepen the deep division between the “hinterlands” and the “center” (Nairobi). At the same time, rising resource scarcity could increase competition based on ethnic mobilization. Third, historical narratives and grievances continue to the stand in the way of inter-group reconciliation necessary for cohesion. Unaddressed historical injustices, especially in the form of land allocation by past political leaders, the direct use of state-mandated violence against ethnic groups, and targeting of Somali communities will continue to foster inter- group grievances, if not addressed directly by political elites. The long history of big man presidentialism, patronage, clientelism, and handouts has created a situation where access to political power ensures access to scarce economic resources. This system continues to create deep animos- ities that, left un-addressed will continue to create conditions to the outbreak of sporadic inter-group violence. Fourth, religious identities and practices, as mentioned, also retain the capacity to continue to foster fragmentation. In general, it appears that religious institutions help unify ethnic groups at the local level, especially where they provide equitable and inclusive access to public goods (health and education). There also seems to be a very high level of willingness to engage in local intra-religious dialogue across the country.

BUILDING SOCIAL COHESION IN KENYA:LESSONS LEARNED Overall, there is a high level of legitimacy for NGOs, FBOs, and religious institutions in Kenya, especially in the periphery districts. In periphery regions these organizations are often more legitimate and effective than the state in providing basic public services such as health and education. This raises the issue of “hybridity.” Interventions at the hands of religious 96 F.D. COX ET AL. development organizations might improve cross-cutting relations at the local level, but it is not clear that external interventions will always improve state legitimacy. To some extent, a high level of FBO intervention in rural areas might be contributing to horizontal cohesion but also vertical fragmentation, effectively preventing the state from having to take full responsibility for redressing structural inequalities in periphery regions. International institutions have made great strides in helping to embed human rights norms and political rights for marginalized communities within formal institutional structures in Kenya. These norms are not yet embedded fully within Kenyan culture and political behavior. This suggests that Kenya has experienced an imbalance in investment in “soft” peacebuilding initiatives (e.g., dialogue and reconciliation efforts) and “hard” initiatives (e.g., institutions and corresponding tools/equipment). Institutions designed to build cohesion and peace are in place, but they have yet to fully shape attitudinal change. When it comes to engaging in complex, identity-based conflict setting, the effectiveness of donor interventions depends largely on the degree of accuracy of context and conflict analysis. Peacebuilding strategies generated from biased and or inaccurate analyses can lead ineffective intervention. Considering the complexities of identity-based divisions and ever-shifting coalitions in Kenya, it remains very difficult for external organizations to acquire the knowledge necessary to effect long-term social change. Focusing on suppression of directly violence has often resulted in negative peace, or situations where structural violence creates conditions conducive to conflict recurrence. Reactionary approaches to conflict management in Kenya, alone, will not break conflict cycles. In the words of one respondent, “peacemaking activities boom when there is violence, not when there is peace,” such that most peacebuilding work is reactive, rather than proactive and preemptive. Therefore, within the “peace business,” donors can “easily escape from realities.”68 Furthermore, recipient governments often take little or no ownership over peacebuilding efforts in Kenya. Peace programs have not become a priority for the government, as demonstrated by minimal funding and staffing leading to donor dependency. Local peacebuilding efforts designed to foster social cohesion are often effective, especially where they have engaged religious organizations. At the same time, local cohesion-building efforts tend to have little national impact, and new institutions with access to external resources are subject to “political capture.” Many peacebuilding projects are supported on a KENYA: IDENTITY AND INSECURITY IN A MODERNIZING STATE 97 piloting basis with unpredictable timeframes, and international donors tend to constantly review and revise strategies rather than “stay the course.” For example, many donors expected violence after 2013 elections and designed post-election strategies expecting another surge of funding for peacebuilding efforts. Constant change in strategies introduces new forms of development work in areas where key actors in Kenya may have limited capacity. Human capital and skills for peacebuilding can be undermined where donors’ priorities shift too regularly. Overall, in the Kenya case, donors, development partners and local peacebuilding organizations in Kenya are working in an increasingly unpredictable political environment. They all face challenges related to poor governance and lack of government accountability. Despite the fact that there is an emerging trend in which Kenyans are becoming more nationalistic, there are persistent ethnic and religious ties that divide the nation and regularly undermine externally supported efforts build social cohesion. Interventions that seek more public participation and demand political accountability and inclusivity may be more meaningful in the long term.

NOTES 1. Approximately 350,000 people were displaced from their residences and or businesses according to the Report of the Commission of Inquiry into the Post-Election Violence in Kenya. 2. “Kenya’s Politics: Still Too Tribal,” The Economist, June 9, 2012, http:// www.economist.com/node/21556601. 3. “Third of Govt’s 2011/12 Expenditure Unaccounted for: Audit,” accessed October 8, 2013, http://www.nation.co.ke/news/politics/Third-of-govt- expenditure-unaccounted-for/-/1064/2024096/-/xrpmwgz/-/index. html. 4. “Use of Sh 67 billion queried by the auditor,” Daily Nation, July 29, 2015, 1. 5. Korwar Adar and Munyae Isaac, “Human Rights Abuse in Kenya Under Daniel Arap Moi, 1978–2001,” African Studies Quarterly 5, no. 1 (2001): 1–17. 6. Swahili meaning “footsteps” and meant Moi would follow the footsteps of the founding president of Kenya. 7. Road to Cohesion: Grassroots Conversations About Ethnicity and Nationalism in Kenya (Nairobi, Kenya: National Cohesion and Integration Commission, 2012). 8. “Afrobarometer Kenya: Round 5 Results,” accessed January 20, 2014, http://www.afrobarometer.org/results/results-by-country-a-m/kenya accessed on January 20, 2014. 98 F.D. COX ET AL.

9. Interview with the authors. Nairobi, Kenya, July 15, 2013. 10. Ibid., July 22, 2013. 11. Ibid 12. Ibid., July 17, 2013. 13. Ibid., July 16, 2013. 14. Damaris Seleina Parsitau, “From Prophetic Voices to Lack of Voice: Christian Churches in Kenya and the Dynamics of Voice and Voicelesness in a Multi-Religious Space,” Department of Philosophy and Religious Studies, Egerton University, http://uir.unisa.ac.za/bitstream/handle/ 10500/6620/Parsitau.pdf?sequence=1, accessed on November 16, 2013. 15. Interview with the authors. Nairobi, Kenya, July 29, 2013. 16. See Parsitau, “From Prophetic Voices to Lack of Voice.” 17. Standard Media, https://www.standardmedia.co.ke/article/ 2000175485/icc-leaders-claim-the-court-has-predetermined-outcome-of- kenya-s-cases/ 18. The inter-religious council is comprised of: Kenya Episcopal Conference- Catholic Secretariat (KEC-CS), National Council of Churches of Kenya (NCCK), Evangelical Alliance of Kenya (EAK), Organization of African Instituted Churches (OAIC-Kenya), Seventh Day Adventist (SDA) for Christians, Supreme Council of Kenya Muslims (SUPKEM), National Muslim Leaders Forum (NAMLEF), Shia Ithnashari Muslim Association (SHIA), and Hindu Council of Kenya (HCK). 19. Research participants 6, 11, 13, and 28, Interviews with the authors, Nairobi, Kenya, July 2013. 20. Focus Group Discussion with the authors, Isiolo, Kenya, July 25, 2013. 21. Ibid., Nairobi, Kenya, July 16, 2013. 22. Eunice Kamaara, “Religions and Emerging Religious Movements in Kenya,” http://international.iupui.edu/kenya/resources/Religions-and-Emerging- Religious-Movements_Paper.pdf, accessed on November 16, 2013. 23. For a summary of the Ndung’u Report see, Southall (2005). 24. See also Lilian Aluanga-Delvaux, “Can Attacks Give Rise to Christian Extremism,” The Standard, November 2, 2013. See also Haji Kariuki, “The Radical Wave Giving Some Muslim Clergy Sleepless Nights,” posted in Daily Nation on Friday, February 21, 2014. 25. See Mwandawiro Mghanga, Usipoziba Ufa Utajenga Ukuta: Land, Elections, and Conﬂicts in Kenya’s Coast Province, Heinrich Böll Stiftung, 2010. 26. Rachel Sweet Vanderpoel, “Religious Equality in Kenya? Adjudicating the Constitutionality of Kenya’s Kadhis’ Courts,” Regulating Religion E-Journal (2012). 27. Institute of Security Studies, Assessing the Vulnerability of Kenyan Youths to Radicalisation and Extremism, http://www.issafrica.org/uploads/ Paper245.pdf. KENYA: IDENTITY AND INSECURITY IN A MODERNIZING STATE 99

28. Ibid. 29. For example, nine of a group of 15 young men named by police as having left for Kismayu were Kenyans aged between 24–32 and resided in Majengo and Mombasa. See “Police Name 15 Key Shabaab Fugitives,” Daily Nation, December 31, 2011, http://allafrica.com/stories/201112310068.html, accessed on Sunday October 6, 2013. 30. Institute of Security Studies, Assessing the Vulnerability of Kenyan Youths,9. 31. The Security Laws (Amendment Bill), 2014 which was acrimoniously passed into law by a divided parliament was seen as largely a reactive measure and one that violated people’s fundamental rights and freedoms. 32. Human Rights Watch, High Stakes: Political Violence and the 2013 Elections in Kenya (2013). 33. Human Rights Watch, Criminal Reprisals: Kenyan Police and Military Abuses against Ethnic Somalis (2012). 34. TJRC, 59. 35. Interview with the authors, Nairobi, Kenya, July 18, 2013. 36. Ibid., July 23, 2013. 37. NSC, “National Conflict Mapping and Analysis: Peace and Conflict Trends in Kenya” (2011). 38. South Consulting, The Kenya National Dialogue and Reconciliation (KNDR) Monitoring Project: Status of Implementation of Agenda Items 1–4, Third Review Report, Open Society Institute; Kenya National Dialogue and Reconciliation, Statement of Principles on Long-Term Issues and Solutions (2009). 39. International Crisis Group, Kenya After the Elections, Africa Briefing No. 94, (Nairobi, Kenya, 2013), 2. 40. Business Daily, “Massive Corruption in Counties Exposed,” http://www. businessdailyafrica.com/Massive-corruption-in-counties-exposed/-/ 539546/2224876/-/dx6xjh/-/index.html. 41. See UNDAF 2009–2013. The new UNDAF for 2014 is still under review. 42. See UNDAF 2009, p. 6. 43. “Community Security and Social Cohesion Approach,” UN Conceptual and Strategic Framework for Peace Building and Conflict Prevention in Kenya, January 2010. 44. “The Changing Nature of Conflict: Priorities for UNDP Response” United Nations Development Programme Bureau for Crisis Prevention and Recovery, February 2013. 45. Interview with the authors, Nairobi, Kenya, July 17, 2013. 46. Ibid., July 15, 2013. 47. Ibid. 100 F.D. COX ET AL.

48. See Saferworld and Conciliation Resources’ 19th Paper – Lessons Learnt from the People’s Peacemaking Perspectives, 2012, http://www.saferworld. org.uk/news-and-views/case-study/13-peoples-peacemaking-perspectives. 49. Interview with the authors, Nairobi, Kenya, July 24, 2013. 50. With the advent of devolution, the structures are evolving taking into account the new governance structures but the national government through county commissioners continues to play a central role in the new structures. 51. Ibid., 48. 52. Office of the President, December, 2011, National Policy on Peacebuilding and Conflict Management (Final Version), 9. 53. GoK, National Policy on Peace-building and Conflict Management. 54. For example, see: Van Tongeren 2013; Odendaal 2013. 55. The NCIC is a statutory body established under the National Cohesion and Integration Act (Act No.12 of 2008). The NCIC draws its existence from the National Dialogue and Reconciliation Agreement signed in Nairobi on February 1, 2008, by the Government; Party of National Unity (PNU) and Orange Democratic Movement (ODM) delegations, and witnessed by H.E. Kofi A. Annan for the Panel of Eminent African Personalities. 56. Research Participant 25, Interview with the authors, Nairobi, Kenya, July 24, 2013. 57. These include Swedish International Development Cooperation Agency (SIDA), USAID, UNDP, GIZ, United Nations Entity for Gender Equality and the Empowerment of Women (UN Women). 58. The National Cohesion and Integration Act No. 12 of 2008, Article 13 (1) A(a–e). 59. Interview with NCCK. 60. The Truth Justice and Reconciliation Act 2008, Part II, 3–6. 61. Summary of the TJRC Report by the Kenya Transitional Justice Network, August 2013, p. 3. http://www.acordinternational.org/silo/files/kenya- tjrc-summary-report-aug-2013.pdf 62. See comments by Okero Otieno (Programme Analyst-DGU), January 2014, in UNDP e-Consultation: A Critical Review of Reconciliation as a Conflict Prevention and Peacebuilding Mechanism. 63. Emmanuel Kisiangani and Mashaka Lewela, “Kenya’s New Constitution: Political Musical Chairs and Inertia Taint Implementation,” Institute for Security Studies, accessed on September 11, 2013, http://www.issafrica. org/iss-today/kenyas-new-constitution-political-musical-chairs-and-iner tia-taint-implementation. 64. International Peace Support Training Centre (IPSTC), IPSTC Issue Briefs Series (Nairobi: IPSTC, 2011). KENYA: IDENTITY AND INSECURITY IN A MODERNIZING STATE 101

65. Daniel Branch, “Sticking Together Is the Winning Formula for Kenya,” Daily Nation, July 26, 2013. 66. Ibid. 67. Interview with the authors, Nairobi, Kenya, July 22, 2013. 68. Ibid.

James Ndung’u is an arms control and policing expert with over 10 years experience in Kenya’s security sector. He holds an MA in Armed Conﬂict and Peace Studies from the University of Nairobi, and has worked with the Government of Kenya as an advisor on Arms Trade Treaty at the UN. James is actively involved in multiple armed violence reduction initiatives in Kenya with a broad network of international NGOs.

Esther Njuguna has managed governance, security, and peacebuilding programming in Kenya and Somalia working with various international organizations. She holds an MA in International Relations, with a focus on Peace and Conﬂict Studies, from the United States International University. CHAPTER 5

Lebanon: Confessionalism, Consociationalism, and Social Cohesion

Joy Aoun and Marie-Joëlle Zahar

On June 3, 2014, the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR’s) Syria Regional Refugee Response1 indicated that 1,034,393 Syrian refugees were registered by the agency in Lebanon with an additional 56,145 awaiting registration.2 At 244 registered refugees for every thousand nationals, Lebanon ofﬁcially had become the country with the highest concentration of refugees in the world. Speaking in Ottawa at the annual pluralism lecture hosted by the Global Centre for Pluralism, UN High Commissioner for Refugees, António Guterres reminded his audience that this was “295 times as many refugees per capita as the in United States and nearly 52 times as many as in Canada,” adding that, “in Lebanon, as in most refugee hosting countries around the world, the strain that the large presence of refugees places on services and resources ha[d] become unbearable.”3 The civil war raging in nearby Syria strains social cohesion in Lebanon. The conﬂict has reignited local struggles between pro- and anti-Assad communities in the northern city of Tripoli, deepened the rift between Lebanon’s Shi’a and Sunni communities, underlined the inability/unwillingness of the

J. Aoun (*) World Bank Group, Washington, DC, USA e-mail: [email protected] M.-J. Zahar Université de Montréal, Montréal, QC, Canada e-mail: [email protected]

© The Author(s) 2017 103 F.D. Cox, T.D. Sisk (eds.), Peacebuilding in Deeply Divided Societies, Rethinking Political Violence, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-50715-6_5 104 J. AOUN AND M.-J. ZAHAR state to provide basic services, and contributed to renewed social and political unrest. Yet, none of these multiple nodes of tension and conflict was created by the war in Syria and, in fact, many outsiders marvel at Lebanon’s ability to withstand the strain and avoid a relapse into all-out civil war. Whereas outside observers usually interpret this resilience as a sign of social cohesion, many of the Lebanese interviewed beg to differ. Interviewees highlight that social cohesion should not be confused with communal coexistence or with political powersharing.ManystressthatthetenuouspeaceinLebanonislesstheresult of a joint decision not to fight rather than the outcome of several individual assessments that, in the current context, fighting is an option unlikely to further the interests and objectives of the various political forces. Nowhere is this interpretation as starkly obvious as in Tripoli. Since the outburst of the war in Syria, the administrative capital of North Lebanon has been rocked by violence between the Alawi community of Jabal Mohsen and their mostly Sunni neighbors in Bab al-Tabbaneh. These tensions finally simmered with the introduction, in April 2014, of a Lebanese government security plan. As peace returned, a civil society initiative dubbed “Erase the Face of the War” began clearing debris and re-painting walls. But as the initiative rehabilitated the neighborhood and as it engaged in cultural and educational bridge-building activities, one city councilor admitted, “We have good hope that this peace will last for a few years, or at least a few months. But there is nothing we can do about it because peace and war in Tripoli are decided by high-ranking politicians. It’s discussed outside Lebanon and we are left to suffer from these decisions.”4 In discussing social cohesion in Lebanon, this study disentangles the web of interpretations to which the concept lends itself. How should one understand social cohesion? Is it the same as communal coexistence or is there more to the notion of “vivre ensemble” as suggested by several Lebanese intellectuals and activists? Does cohesion come from a common lived experience (e.g., through schooling) or does it rest on a joint vision for the country and its future? What role does the Lebanese state play (or not) in fostering social cohesion; what role do religious communities and communal political forces and parties play? In a country often described as enmeshed in a web of regional and international politics, what role (if any) has the international community played in fostering social cohesion? Based on extensive interviews conducted in Lebanon in summer and fall of 2013, the study identifies three inter-related sets of factors that stand in the way of social cohesion in Lebanon. First, we argue that intra-communal cohesion (also referred to as bonding) historically has been strengthened at LEBANON: CONFESSIONALISM, CONSOCIATIONALISM, AND SOCIAL COHESION 105 the expense of inter-communal cohesion (also referred to as bridging).5 Second, we identify sectarian politics and the concomitant absence of the state as important elements in fostering intra-communal ties, and limiting the potential for inter-communal cohesion. Last, but not least, we document the role of international aid in reinforcing communal cleavages, even as some of that assistance is at least rhetorically intended to foster social cohesion.

SOCIAL COHESION IN HISTORICAL PERSPECTIVE: “BEING LEBANESE” Lebanon’s societal complexity is inversely proportional to the country’ssize. At approximately 14,000 square kilometers, this country of minorities boasts 17 different religious confessions (tawa’if,sing.ta’ifa)alsoreferredtoas communities. Lebanon’s social, political, and (to a lesser extent) economic life is organized around community dynamics. To understand the intertwined relation between sect, society, and politics requires a brief historical excursus. Being Lebanese always has meant different things to different people. On the eve of independence, representatives of the largest Christian and Muslim communities (Maronites and Sunnis) hammered out a compromise based on sectarian power sharing to reconcile their interests and competing visions and present a united front against the French mandate authorities. The 1943 National Pact, an unwritten agreement intended to supplement the formal constitution, enshrined the principles of segmental proportionality – proportional sectarian representation in government, and segmental autonomy – guaranteeing communal autonomy in the conduct of religious, educational, and cultural affairs. Lebanon’s contemporary political history has five distinct phases. From independence until the first civil war in 1958, the country was described as the Switzerland of the Middle East in reference to its power-sharing system, which delivered the twin benefits of stability and prosperity in an otherwise troubled regional environment.6 The 1958 civil war ushered in a period of instability that lasted until April 1975 and the beginning of Lebanon’ssecond civil war. This period laid bare the tensions within Lebanese society with a number of dissatisfied, mostly (but not exclusively) Muslim communities demanding a revision of the country’s foundational power-sharing agreement, the National Pact of 1943 (Salibi 1976;Nasr1978). It also underlined the entanglement of Lebanese internal political struggles with broader regional conflicts.7 106 J. AOUN AND M.-J. ZAHAR

As Zahar states, “thus, at the time of the outbreak of violence in 1958, the Lebanese were deeply divided between supporters and opponents of Nasserism and in 1975 they fundamentally disagreed about the Palestinian presence in Lebanon” (Zahar 2012a, 65). During the 15 years of civil strife, and with the distinct exception of Tripoli, the administrative capital of North Lebanon, and of a small area in West Beirut, communities increasingly lived apart. Various sectarian militias gained control over their own enclaves, cleansed these territories from others than their co- religionists, and stepped in to ﬁll the vacuum left by the near collapse of the state (Kingston and Zahar 2004). In a country where the social and political structures already favored intra-communal over inter-communal cohesion, the war further destroyed the few bridges remaining between communities. Whereas, before the 1975 war, many civil society associations were interest based and multi-confessional, with the outbreak of war, many were rendered inoperative. Identity-based associations stepped in to replace them (Kingston 2000, 2).

AFTER TA’IF The fourth phase of Lebanon’s political history ended with the signature of the Ta’if Accords of 1989. Building upon the prewar power-sharing system, the Accords sought to address Lebanon’s twin vulnerabilities. Internally, “whereas the National Pact of 1943 had put extensive powers in the hands of the Maronite Christian president, Ta’if recalibrated the prewar allocation of powers, curtailing these wide prerogatives and vesting most executive powers in the council of ministers, customarily led by a Sunni. It also changed the allocation of parliamentary seats from 6:5 in favor of Christians to “fifty–fifty” (Zahar 2012a, 65). Externally, Ta’if attempted to clarify Lebanon’s foreign policy by reaffirming the ties of brotherhood that linked the country to Syria, this at a time when Syria became the de facto external power in charge of overseeing the implementation of the Accords. What followed has been widely documented (Mansour 1993; Maila 1994; Zahar 2002). In brief, Syria cherry-picked aspects of the Accords that corresponded to its own priorities and strategic objectives. Security provision took precedence over political reform. In fact, as will be expounded below, the manipulation of elections became the principal method through which Syria asserted its control over the Lebanese political scene. In conjunction with its Lebanese allies, the Syrian regime met LEBANON: CONFESSIONALISM, CONSOCIATIONALISM, AND SOCIAL COHESION 107 dissent with force. It came as no surprise to observers of Lebanese politics that, following the assassination in February 2005 of former Prime Minister Hariri which was initially blamed on the Syrian regime, the Lebanese mobilized in large numbers to demand the ousting of Syrian troops. Troops left in April of the same year. Since the so-called Cedar Revolution, Lebanon has entered into a new phase of political life, one marked by renewed political instability, insecurity, and socio-economic challenges.8 Instability has escalated since 2011 under the weight of the civil war in neighboring Syria. In this context, both the 1958 and 1975–1990 civil wars can be understood as the awakening of communal contenders vying for a fairer share of the pie. Ultimately, the manner in which both were settled did not alter the sectarian bases of power sharing. All political actors preferred stagnation and paralysis to the prospect of compromise. This dynamic is best illustrated in the post-Ta’if era by “the politics of troika,” or the use and abuse of customary practice by the Maronite President, Sunni Prime Minister, and Shi’a Head of Parliament as they jockeyed for communal dominance and repeatedly overstepped boundaries the Lebanese Constitution placed on their respective roles and responsibilities. Each perceived himself as the representative of his community, “attempting to enhance his power and that of his community at the expense of the others” (Krayem 1997). Analysts dub political sectarianism the “retribalisation of politics” in Lebanon. This is most evident in the politics of Hizballah, which represents the Shi’a, once labeled Lebanon’s only truly national community. Today, Hizballah is “embracing the country’s confessional system, seeking to assert their role and protect themselves against elimination by carving out a place for themselves in this system” (Picard 1985).

SOCIAL CLEAVAGES IN THE CONFESSIONAL STATE In Lebanon, the entanglement of religion and public life does not limit itself to the political sphere.9 By enshrining the principle of communal autonomy, the National Pact and Lebanon’s first postindependence constitution – specifically Articles 9 and 10 – strengthen the hold of religious institutions across society. For example, the country’s Personal Status Regime (nizam al-ahwal al-shakhsiyya) grants religious tribunals legislative and executive authority over the personal status of their flocks. No Lebanese can be registered at birth, married, or buried if they do not belong to a sect. Religious tribunals decide upon divorce and inheritance 108 J. AOUN AND M.-J. ZAHAR laws, which introduces discrimination, especially in the treatment of women in terms of rights and obligations of spouses, divorce, the guar- dianship of children, and inheritance. The relationship between Lebanon’s religious authorities and their respective communities are not limited to the purview of the Personal Status Regime. Each community has its own religious institutions that structure the life of the community in several other ways. While the Maronite Church is the oldest of these, Dar al-Fatwa, the supreme Sunni religious authority in Lebanon, was established in 1955, and the Higher Islamic Shiite Council in 1967. Religious institutions reach deep into the everyday life of Lebanon’s citizens. They typically have their own networks of clinics, schools, and hospitals. They run orphanages, scouting associations like the Sunni Kashshaf al-Jarrah, radio stations, and newspapers. They also offer post-secondary education at universities such as Beirut’s Islamic University (Sunni) or Université Saint-Esprit de Kaslik (Maronite). Religious institutions often have their own relief organizations such as the Association of Relief and Humanitarian Aid, the umbrella association for local Sunni charities in Lebanon, run by Dar al-Fatwa. The institutionalization of religious communities and their reach into the everyday life of the Lebanese strengthen intra-communal bonds. By so doing, however, they also sometimes contribute to deepening the divide between the various communities. Religious groups evolve in parallel silos, attending their own communal schools, going to their community’s own clinics and hospitals, and often participating in civic activities through the community’s own social networks. Lebanon’s vibrant network of societal associations is thus structured through a communal logic, resulting in a strong mujtama’a ahli (communal society) yet a weak mujtama’a madani (civil society).10 Although several voluntary associations are interest based and multi-confessional, many were rendered inoperative during the war and replaced by communal competitors (Kingston 2000).

CIVIL SOCIETY The war did not spell the end of civil society but erstwhile secular and multi-confessional interest-based associations, such as professional civic groups, now have to contend with new communal competitors. The strength of communal ties is such that “claims-based” or “interest- based” NGOs (Karam 2005) often lack a strong enough sense of common purpose to bring and keep them together (Kingston 2013). LEBANON: CONFESSIONALISM, CONSOCIATIONALISM, AND SOCIAL COHESION 109

A recent study of the emergence of “alternative” NGOs, the self- designation of NGOs that emerged after the Syrian withdrawal of 2005 and the Israel–Hizballahwarofsummer2006andwhichexpli- citly aim to break with Lebanon’s sectarian logics, finds that most had to sacrifice their autonomy from sectarian politicians in order to either get the legal authorizations or to be able to operate on the ground in areas under the control of different communal leaders (Clark and Zahar 2015). Post-Ta’if, Lebanese society has grown increasingly averse to mixing the various confessions. For Christians, this is the combined result of the electoral laws of 1992 that marginalized most Christian political forces, the naturalization decree of 1994, which benefited many more Muslims than Christians (80 and 20%, respectively), and the stark failure to rehabilitate internally displaced persons, the majority of whom were Christians (Khalaf 2003). This has turned “comparatively mixed, hybrid, and open communities” into more homogeneous spaces “closed to outsiders” (Khalaf 2003, 133, 135). To illustrate, according to survey data, most Lebanese who now would rather live apart are middle-class urban professionals:

When asked ...whether they would agree to send their children to a school afﬁliated with a sect other than their own, close to 30 percent of the respondents answered in the negative. ...Their attitudes toward mixed sectarian or religious marriages-for both males and females-reveal much of the same sentiments. Close to 28 percent disapprove of such religiously mixed marriages for males and 32 percent for females. Similar predisposi- tions were expressed regarding preferences to live in a locality that has a majority of people from their own sect. Around 21 percent were sympathetic with such a prospect. (Khalaf 2003, 126)

In this desire, they are helped by the Lebanese educational system where public schooling is generally of poor quality and where most, though not all, private schools are run by various religious groups and/or institutions. This is particularly the case in the Shi’a community where Hizballah’s al- Mahdi schools serve the dual objective of contributing to the construction and definition of the community while at the same time providing a pool of political supporters (Le Thomas 2008; 2012). The sphere of education provides religious institutions and sectarian political actors with a conduit to maintain linkages with society and with 110 J. AOUN AND M.-J. ZAHAR a platform to socialize students in specific personal values, visions of the world, and sectarian political projects. Given the lack of state investment in quality schooling and education and the financial constraints associated with admission into the few secular educational establishments – where high tuition fees limit access to the sons and daughters of the elite – most Lebanese youth fall prey to the efforts of the religious institutions and of religious political actors to entangle them in their webs of influence and control even before they reach adulthood. According to a high-ranking official, public schools are in urgent need of reform but the lack of political will and crises at the local and regional levels exacerbate this challenge.11 Illustrating the depth of divisions, the attempt to produce a unified, official, history book was suspended for political reasons; the project stalled over differing narratives of the civil war as well as over the competing priorities and prerogatives of Lebanon’s various factions.12 Perhaps the most telling examples of the strong hold of religious authorities and sectarian political forces over the lives of Lebanese citizens have to do with the issues of civil marriage and women’srights.In Lebanon, and according to the prevailing interpretation of the Personal Status Regime, only marriages sanctioned by religious authorities, governed by religious laws, and falling under the jurisdiction of religious courts are allowed. Keen on doing away with the hold of sectarianism on their daily lives, activists have mobilized in favor of civil marriage since the early 1950s. In 1998, then President Elias Hrawi put forth a proposal to introduce civil marriage in Lebanon. That he did so only a few months before leaving office raised suspicions. Some saw the move as an attempt by the President to champion an important cause in order to seek a second term in office, something that the constitution forbids.13 In cabinet, 21 ministers, both Christian and Muslim, voted in favor of the bill and nine voted against. The then Prime Minister, RafiqHariri, refused to sign the bill even though, according to the constitution, it had garnered the required two-thirds support. Hariri mobilized Sunni religious authorities against the bill. They were joined in their opposition to the move – which they believed would weaken religious courts – by the religious authorities of other confessions, ultimately forcing the withdrawal of the proposal. Since the late 1990s, the mobilization for civil marriage has been one of the recurring issues uniting young Lebanese from across the political spectrum. In March 2011, a number of NGOs and secular organizations LEBANON: CONFESSIONALISM, CONSOCIATIONALISM, AND SOCIAL COHESION 111 submitted a draft law on civil marriage to the parliament, but the proposal was never debated. In 2013, a Lebanese intellectual, Talal al-Husseini, came up with a startling conclusion: “Civil marriage has been allowed under Lebanese law for decades, but the law has not been enforced.” Husseini’s conclusion was based on two arguments. First, the Lebanese Constitution guarantees absolute freedom of conscience. Second, Decree 60, issued by the French high commissioner in 1936, mandates that people who do not belong to a particular sect are subject to civil law in personal status issues.14 In a significant development, the Justice Ministry’s Higher Committee for Consultations concluded civil marriage was legal in Lebanon and, in December 2013, caretaker Justice Minister Shakib Qortbawi announced the preparation of a draft law to legalize civil marriage in Lebanon. For the minister, this is an opportunity to strengthen social cohesion, “a soft revolution or a revolution in stages.”15 But, as was the case in 1998, religious authorities strongly reacted against recent developments. Gender equality is another issue that unites many Lebanese across the country’s deep confessional divides. In recent years, this has resulted in two types of mobilization: in favor of women’s right to pass their citizenship to their children and spouses, and against domestic violence. The Lebanese citizenship regime discriminates against women. According to the Nationality Code, fathers can bestow Lebanese citizenship upon their children at birth and upon their wives, no matter their national origin, after being married for one year. Mothers, on the other hand, are denied the same rights if they marry a foreigner. Historically, two reasons explain this inequality. The first has to do with the fear that Palestinian refugees, settled in Lebanon since 1949, would marry Lebanese women as a way of getting citizenship. 450,000 Palestinian refugees are registered with the United Nations Relief and Works Agency (UNRWA).16 The naturalization of Palestinians (Tawteen) is an extremely controversial topic and one on which a majority of Lebanese concur. The second fear is that allowing women to pass their citizenship onto their children and husbands may have a negative effect on the delicate confessional balance between sects. Add to this the fact that Lebanese across confessions accuse Palestinians of having contributed to, if not caused, the civil war in 1975, and that they hold them responsible for having committed serious exactions against life and property during the conflict. It is likely that the influx of majority-Sunni Syrian refugees will raise similar concerns and be used in similar ways.17 112 J. AOUN AND M.-J. ZAHAR

ECONOMIC FRAGMENTATION In addition to the strong hold of religious and communal authorities over the various parts of Lebanese society, uneven development also contributes to social fragmentation. Lebanon’s economy is a confessional economy that “grew as a natural outcome of an extensive intersection of interests of basically Maronite bureaucrats and Sunni trading families” (Kubursi 1999). At independence, Maronites wanted a stable source of public finance for the state. Given the structure of the economy, this could only be based on custom duties on foreign imports, with trading controlled by a few Sunni families in the coastal cities of Beirut, Tripoli, and Sidon, who wanted little if any government intervention in the economy. For these traders, the government’s role was limited to “building an efficient social infrastructure and maintaining a policy environment favorable to free trade” (Khalaf and Khoury 1993). This implicit economic contract accompanied the National Pact; it had important consequences for postindependence economic development and for the dynamics of social cohesion. First, this contract suggested the government would do little, if anything, to develop sectors or regions that could undermine the dominance and the free flow of imports. It is therefore no surprise that infrastructure and services tended to be limited to the coastal cities resulting in lopsided development. Hinterland regions such as Akkar in the North systematically received less attention and public spending, a trend that continues to this day. Regional disparities are noted in most assessments of development in Lebanon.18 Second, the economic contract between Sunnis and Maronites allowed rich elites to use their privileged access to the state as a means of strengthening their clientelist hold over supporters. In a country where state welfare policies were almost inexistent, elites were particularly well placed to build up their political connections and economic investments. The rich landlords of Lebanon’s Akkar region, the Mir‘abis, provide a case in point. In the Sunni slots that led election lists, the Mir‘abis monopolized entry into the political bodies of the state right up to the last National Assembly elections of 1972. By these and other means, they controlled the spoils of patronage, jobs, favors, protection, access to some much disputed place such as the college for army Non-Comissioned Officers, the construction of a well, the building of a post office or, just as important, keeping the post office, clinic, or even school a village already had.19 LEBANON: CONFESSIONALISM, CONSOCIATIONALISM, AND SOCIAL COHESION 113

Lebanon’s economy contributed to the centrifugal social dynamics of the country. The country’s economic structure favored rich elites that, in turn, used their wealth and their access to the state to strengthen their hold over communal clients. That the provision of services and the development of infrastructures in the hinterland regions depended on personal connections within the state guaranteed that Lebanon’s poor would not unite as a class but would rather play the communal game, voting their regional elites into power in return for which they expected conditions to improve in their region or locality.

THE POLITICS OF FRAGMENTATION There is no denying that history and socio-economic patterns are essential to understanding social cohesion (or the lack thereof) in postwar Lebanon. How they interact to produce enduring and often self-replicat- ing political structures is equally important. Lebanon’s history and socio- economic structures both inform and are informed by the evolution and consolidation of the country’s consociational political model and by the behavior of elites seeking to adapt to, take advantage of, and instrumenta- lize the rules of the political and electoral games. De facto government and governance in post-independence Lebanon accommodate communal politics and dividing lines. State institutions manage a plurality of often competing communal interest groups (Hudson 1968, 34). This has done little to challenge sectarian identity politics (Salloukh 2010). Upon independence, the Lebanese political system was based on a tenuous and unbalanced set of premises regarding sectarian accommodation. Maronite Christians – who were the majority based on the country’s last official census in 1932 – were afforded the lion’s share in terms of overall executive, legislative, and judicial power (Salloukh 2008, 287). In exchange, they promised to forgo external patronage by mainly European Western powers – including France – in a plural and geopolitically neutral Lebanon. Meanwhile, Lebanon’s Muslim communities pledged to renounce an emerging pan-Arab discourse and calls for integrating the country into “Greater Syria” (Salibi 1988, 186; Najem 2012,14–15). The verbal nature of the so-called 1943 “National Pact” (Picard 2002, 63), the disparity in allotted political power between Christians and Muslims, and recurring failures to forge cross-confessional confidence on both domestic and international policy orientations deepened dividing 114 J. AOUN AND M.-J. ZAHAR lines and fostered perceptions that state institutions contributed to exacerbating inequality and communal exclusion (Traboulsi 2012, 110, 244; Corm 2005, 140–141). With none of the country’s major communal groups able to decisively shape or redefine the contours of power in post-independence Lebanon, political actors resorted to bandwagoning with competing regional and international forces in a bid to force the resolution of domestic power struggles in ways that strengthened their hands and weakened their opponents. This led to a protracted pattern of political competition, government deadlock, and civil war in 1958 and again from 1975 to 1990 (Sulayman 2006; Samii 2006, 35). The 1989 Ta’if Accord that ended Lebanon’s second postindependence civil war also was an internationally brokered effort to redistribute political power in Beirut. The presidency – still reserved for Maronite Christians – lost its erstwhile extensive privileges most of which were transferred to the Council of Ministers, ultimately strengthening the office of the Prime Minister, which is reserved for Sunnis. The speakership of parliament – a post held by the Shi’a community was also strengthened, completing an important rebalancing of power away from the Maronite Christian community. However, the so-called Troika between these three posts remains anything but balanced. Whereas Maronites held executive preeminence in the pre-Ta’if period, post-Ta’if, Sunnis had more influence on policy- and decision-making (Stedman 1997; Kasir 2003). The ability to shape and influence policy-making is not limited to those who control institutionalized state structures. Tensions between competing communal forces often resurge when ruling factions or elites – whether discreet or as part of a cross-confessional alliance – attempt to drastically alter domestic or external policy orientations without attempting to manage internal pressures or to seek inclusive cross-confessional backing. Notable examples include the fated decision by then-President Camille Chamoun to join the Baghdad pact – which triggered the 1958 civil war, the Chehab presidency’s efforts to regulate sectarian politics in the 1960s or the unilateral decision of the government of Prime Minister Fouad Saniora to dismantle the communications network of the Shi’a political and militant group Hezbollah in 2008 (Gerges 1996,82–83; Nerguizian 2009). These and other examples suggest that, in the absence of broad consensus, institutions can at best seek to manage conflict, not end it. As for political leaders, they are constrained by national politics. Confessional forces battling for political preeminence complicate efforts to create common ground on a range of domestic and foreign policy LEBANON: CONFESSIONALISM, CONSOCIATIONALISM, AND SOCIAL COHESION 115 issues. However, not all actors and institutions exert centrifugal forces on Lebanese politics. The Lebanese Armed Forces (LAF) are one such example. Time and again, the LAF have accommodated the lowest common denominator interests of Lebanon’s warring factions and communal elites. This is especially true post-Ta’if, wherein the restructured and reconsti- tuted LAF is perceived as a cross-confessional institution with a relatively higher level of legitimacy and support across communal dividing lines.20 Another example is the Lebanese Central Bank. While not fully divorced from confessional politics (like most, if not all, Lebanese institutions, its leadership submits to confessional recruitment criteria), the pursuit of stable macroeconomic indicators and a preference for fiscal and economic stability have ensured that the bank has played a role that warring factions can consistently support.21 More recently, another structure was established to enable inter-sectarian cooperation, the National Dialogue.22 This, however, is an ad hoc structure, not a formal institutional structure governed by legal statutes. Institutions like the LAF, the Central Bank, and the National Dialogue are positive structures that support cooperation between competing communal elites. However, such cooperation must contend with real limits and constraints. Whereas cross-confessional state institutions have been prevalent throughout the post-independence period, and particularly, as we will discuss later, in the electoral realm, most remain exclusionary. Most are also political and ad hoc in nature and they are intended to achieve narrow political outcomes. Examples include the recent so-called March 14 and March 8 political movements. While both are cross-confessional, March 14 excludes or does not work to accommodate leading Shi’a elites. Similarly, March 8 fails to make room for or attract Sunni political elites.23 As for cross-confessional official institutions, they remain subject to the whim of competing communal elites and fall short of being able to (re)-shape the orientation of factions.24 Where institutional engineering has taken place – such as the post-Ta’if redistribution of political power or attempts to make the LAF a truly cross- confessional force – this has usually involved high levels of external (i.e., foreign) intervention in domestic Lebanese politics and decision-making. For example, many of the clauses that govern the Ta’if Accord reflect the common preferences of regional and international actors who influenced Lebanon’s new post–civil war order. External actors could influence, sometimes heavily, patterns of accommodation and consensus as well as patterns of competition and communal violence (Zahar 2012a; Azar and 116 J. AOUN AND M.-J. ZAHAR

Shnayerson 1984). But as outside actors attempt to manage the interaction between Lebanese communal groups, their efforts are complicated by the recurring emergence of preeminent forces that, for all intents and purposes, represent the aspirations and goals of a narrow set of communal groups. This in turn triggers the consolidation of competing forces and factions from other communal groups, thus accelerating the risk of conﬂict along confessional lines.25

POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS AND ELITE BEHAVIOR IN POSTWAR LEBANON There has never been one truly dominant ethnic or confessional group in the history of post-independence Lebanon. Trying to assess communal strength is complicated by the fact that the last ofﬁcial census dates back to 1932 (Hanf 1993, 90). Academic studies have since attempted to chart demographic changes in Lebanese society, but their results do not and cannot have the same legitimacy as an ofﬁcial count (Faour 1991, 2007). Notwithstanding, Lebanon has witnessed successive waves during which various communal groups launched bids to gain and maintain power and dominance. In turn, Maronites, Sunnis, and now the Shi’is have sought to gain preeminence in Lebanon’s political system in an effort to thwart perceived threats and maximize access to power (Traboulsi 2012,129–138, 157–189). Although all communal elites have tried to maximize political power via access to and control of formal state institutions, the same elites seldom use formal institutions as the leading vehicle to secure their political objectives and interests. Apart from struggles for the control of formal state institutions, the history of communal politics in Lebanon revolves around elites’ resort to external alliances and networks, the use or threat of violence – separately or in combination – in order to achieve favorable domestic political outcomes.26 Lebanon can be rightly described as a weak state with a strong society. The strength and preponderance of sub-national communal groups is evident in the way in which communal elites shape state institutions rather than being shaped by them. During the 1975–1990 civil war, the main protagonists were sub-national communal (often armed) actors – the Maronite Christian Lebanese Forces (LF), the mainly Druze Progressive Socialist Party (PSP), and the mainly Shi’a Amal Movement (Nasr 1990). In some respects, this pattern extended into the postwar period, particularly in the period immediately following the 2005 Syrian withdrawal from LEBANON: CONFESSIONALISM, CONSOCIATIONALISM, AND SOCIAL COHESION 117

Lebanon. Here too, it was not the state that shaped competing sub- national communal elites but rather confessional political forces – such as the mainly Sunni Future Movement and the mainly Shi’a Hezbollah militant group – that were the driving forces of domestic politics, succeed- ing partly in paralyzing state institutions.27 Whereas standard accounts of consociational politics extoll the role of elites in maintaining stability and keeping communal tensions in check,28 Lebanese politics is best described as a game of elite spoilers. Postindependence, elites engaged in successive attempts at defeating efforts to reshape Lebanon’s political system and the contours of confessional power politics. The perception that any change that does not benefit one’s own political position or community could ultimately be detrimental to the long-term prospects of both drives resistance to change. Elite “spoilers” accommodate changes that benefit them and their communities. Alternatively, they may be forced, reluctantly, to accommodate changes if competing elites bandwagon or if external pressure is applied by powerful outside patrons (Zahar 2012a; Clark and Salloukh 2013). Communal elites and spoilers are key features of the political landscape in postwar Lebanon, especially as the crisis in neighboring Syria crisis has deepened Sunni–Shi’a tensions. Nevertheless, there are factions and institutions that vie for stability amid increasing polarization continue to exist. These include the country’s divided Christian political forces and Lebanon’s Druze community, which remain ill at ease with any Lebanese intervention in Syria’s increasingly sectarian conflict.29 Beyond specific communal leaders or corporatist groups, key institutions such as the Presidency and the Lebanese Armed Forces (LAF) have also sought to minimize the effects of local and regional instability and, whenever possible, to bolster social cohesion in Lebanon.

LEBANON’S PERSISTENT SERVICE PROVISION CHALLENGE Much as they shed light on the political and institutional expressions of communalism, the previous sections do not really translate the impact of such patterns on the daily livelihood of Lebanese citizens and on societal dynamics of cohesion and fragmentation. Assessing the performance of institutions in terms of social provision allows us to illustrate the impact of the country’s political system, elite politics, and sectarian priorities on public administration, institutional effectiveness, and cohesion (or lack thereof) among citizens. 118 J. AOUN AND M.-J. ZAHAR

In spite of a postwar economic recovery that stands out in comparison with other countries that have experienced civil war, Lebanon fares poorly when it comes to the state’s ability to deliver basic services to the population. Not only are water, power, access to health services, and to free primary education uneven, they are often distributed based on sectarian and or clientelist considerations with improvements in a given area’s access to basic resources often the result of leveraging relations with the communal elites in that region.30 For example, Lebanon suffers from chronic energy shortages and has seen the emergence of a parallel energy sector tied to private generators.31 The situation is similar in terms of access to water, with shortages particularly acute during the hot summer months when the business of private water tankers booms. Accessing these services, many of which are unregulated, can weigh heavily on the budget of middle- to lower-class households. In the southern suburbs, the situation is compounded in neighborhoods that are little more than sprawling urban slums such as the predominantly Armenian neighborhood of Burj Hammoud in Beirut – an area which has attracted displaced Syrians seeking low rent housing and which has recently witnessed tensions between its original Armenian inhabitants and the newcomers.32 Meanwhile, Lebanese households outside key urban centers such as the capital Beirut continue to suffer from un- and under-employment, illiteracy, and poor access to basic resources. Nowhere is this more so the case than Lebanon’s poorest region, the North (which is also home to many displaced Syrians).33 The situation is equally bad, if not worse, in Lebanon’s Palestinian refugee camps. A 2010 United Nations Development Program (UNDP) evaluation of urban services in and around refugee camps concluded that there are real limits on Lebanon’s ability to guarantee basic water, sewage, solid waste management, electricity, and road networks with many residents of Palestinian refugee camps resorting to “self-help” initiatives to access and maintain basic services. These include direct implementation of ad hoc services by camp residents, tapping into surrounding services and infrastructure, forming local committees to ensure service provision, pool- ing limited financial resources within the camps, and leveraging relations with stakeholders other than the Lebanese state – including Palestinian factions, UNRWA, Lebanese political leaders, and local municipalities.34 The situation of Palestinian refugees provides a starting point against which to assess the challenges that are and will be faced by displaced Syrians in accessing basic services. Unlike their Palestinian counterparts, LEBANON: CONFESSIONALISM, CONSOCIATIONALISM, AND SOCIAL COHESION 119 many Syrians live in informal settlements, something that will preclude access to the service provision structures of international organizations. Fears that the Syrians may resettle permanently in Lebanon also militate against providing them with basic services, as was the case in November 2013 when a controversy erupted over the efforts of the Danish Refugee Council to equip Syrian refugee camps with semi-permanent dwelling structures.35 Addressing the needs of Syrian refugees is further complicated by the polarization of Lebanese factions in support to either side of the struggle in Syria. The Mikati caretaker government, in which key service delivery ministries including Labor, Energy and Water, Agriculture, and Health, were held by March 8th coalition ministers,36 exercised caution when it came to expanding services to displaced Syrians in Lebanon. Things would come to a head in 2015 when Lebanon’s persistent service provision challenge and the pressure on public services from such a sudden and sharp increase in population as the country witnessed came together in what would become known as the “garbage crisis.” For eight months, following the closure of Lebanon’s main landfill, garbage piled up high in the streets of Beirut, in river beds, and on mountain slopes. In the meantime, the Mikati government resigned.37 It took a year of difficult negotiations to form the next government of national unity under the Premiership of Tammam Salam. The fragile deals that allowed for the new government’s formation guaranteed that, faced with an unprecedented service delivery failure –one that no parallel system could simply bypass the government would find itself paralyzed. Unable to react except through the use of force, the state used the full force of the police against demon- strators who flocked into the streets and the squares of downtown Beirut to demanding accountability and a solution to the crisis.

INTERNATIONAL PEACEBUILDING IN LEBANON International engagement in post-civil war, Lebanon has ebbed and flowed at the rhythm of political developments in the country and in the region (Zahar 2009). Initially constrained by Syria’s tutelage, Western contributions to Lebanon’s reconstruction were limited to standard or “normal” development aid. Only with the forced departure of the Syrian forces from Lebanon in 2005 did Western engagement become more political and directly aim at democracy promotion and social cohesion. However, as will be detailed below, little has been done to bridge the gap 120 J. AOUN AND M.-J. ZAHAR between theory and practice. In Lebanon, no matter its source, international engagement contributes mostly to communal bonding (the strengthening of intra-community bonds) rather than inter-communal bridging (the strengthening of bonds between communities and the requirement for social cohesion). When it became the main implementer of the Ta’if Agreement, Damascus had a clear interest in the economic recovery of Lebanon. Indeed, the country’s liberal economy provided Syrian elites with much needed resources that were not available in Syria’s socialist and tightly controlled economy. For many analysts, this explains the tenure of Rafic Hariri as the longest-serving Prime Minister of the post-Ta’if period.38 Hariri’s view of reconstruction was centered on restoring the country’s infrastructures and reaffirming its role as a regional economic hub.39 More than 20 bilateral and multilateral donors financed Lebanon’s reconstruction with seven external financiers representing three-quarters of the total aid.40 Compared to other postwar reconstruction processes, Lebanon’s economic performance was a miracle of sorts: “Between 1990 and 1995, the GDP quadrupled from 2.84 to 11 billion US dollars, reaching USD 16 billion in 2003” (El-Ezzi 2005–2006, 15). Although Lebanon made important headway in its reconstruction efforts, corruption “irremediably ravaged the political, administrative and economic institutions in the absence of the rule of law and of a civil society capable of facing a self- interested political elite.”41 By the end of 2005, economic figures told the story in a stark and unambiguous way: fiscal deficit amounted to 24% of GDP, interest payments on public debt increased to 17% of GDP, and Lebanon’s public debt snowballed to 175% of GDP by the end of 2005.42 Western creditors43 took advantage of international donor conferences (Paris I, February 2001 and Paris II, November 2002) to press for privatization, structural reform of the administration, and an improved investment climate in order to reverse macroeconomic and financial imbalances. In the post-2005 period, the USA also became a key player in Lebanon. The long-standing relationship between the two countries does not depend upon specific interests or prerogatives. However, in the wake of the US-led invasion of Iraq in 2003 and Syria’s military withdrawal from Lebanon in 2005, the US government saw an opportunity to shift the regional balance of power in the Levant and reengaged meaningfully in Lebanon.44 Congressionally mandated American funding programs are a key aspect of the bilateral relation. Since 2006, the US government has obligated more than USD1 billion to support the implementation of LEBANON: CONFESSIONALISM, CONSOCIATIONALISM, AND SOCIAL COHESION 121

United Nations Security Council (UNSC) resolutions 1559 and 1701, fund programs to combat sectarianism and unify national institutions, support the Lebanese Armed Forces and Internal Security Forces through training and equipment, and bolster economic opportunity through initiatives tied to the US State Department’s Economic Support Fund (ESF).45 Conflict mitigation became a central objective of international assistance in 2008 after clashes opposed Hizballah and March 14th supporters, in the first instance of large-scale inter-communal violence since the end of the civil war. Since 2011, international support to Lebanon has been complicated by the presence, for the first time in the country’s political history, of Hizballah representatives in government. Unlike Jordan, which has comparatively received less Syrian refugees, support for Lebanon has mostly focused on urgent humanitarian needs, leaving the social, economic, and political fallouts from the pressure exerted by more than a million Syrian refugees unattended.

SOCIAL COHESION PROGRAMS AND PROJECTS In May 2008, the crisis that opposed March 8th –14th spilled over into violence in the streets of Beirut. For the ﬁrst time since the signing of the Ta’if Agreement, it looked like Lebanon could descend back into civil war. Qatar helped mediate a solution to the deadlock between the two parties that saw the redistribution of cabinet seats in such a way as to ensure that a winning electoral majority would have two-thirds of the seats minus one, the losing electoral minority would get one-third of the seats, and the remaining seat would be reserved for a minister chosen by the President of the Republic, restoring the president to his role as arbiter of politics. Only then did Hizballah, which had withdrawn its ministers from cabinet at the start of the crisis 18 months earlier, accepted to return to cabinet. In the wake of the 2008 Doha Accords, the European Union (EU) decided to work with UNDP on conﬂict mitigation aspects, strengthening civil capacity, education, and collective memory.46 Renewed interest in these issues was initially welcomed as “a window of opportunity”47 particularly since many “alternative” NGOs (ANGOs) started to work on these issues following the Cedar Revolution and the 2006 war between Hizballah and Israel. Unlike traditional NGOs, ANGOs – including the likes of Nahwa al-Muwatiniyya, Aman05 or Samidoon – seek to alter Lebanon’s sectarian system and promote a conscious bridging approach between Lebanon’s fractious communities (Clark and Zahar 2015,6–9). 122 J. AOUN AND M.-J. ZAHAR

As a result of renewed international interest in social cohesion, international NGOs such as Search for Common Ground (SFCG), International Alert or the International Center for Transitional Justice – which usually appear in post-conflict countries almost immediately after the signing of peace agreements – set up permanent offices in Beirut.48 Programs and projects mushroomed and Lebanese NGOs working in these areas began to receive more foreign funding. As an illustration, UMAM, the Association for Documentation and Research (D&R), began collecting testimonies about the war with little if any support. UMAM, which documents, archives, and disseminates information about the war has a broad range of activities including “film screenings, exhibitions, roundtables and workshops on archiving, memory and the fight against violence” (Kfoury 2012, 18). Initially funded through personal and family funds, including the personal archive of family of Lokman Slim, one of its two co-founders, UMAM D&R was financed by the EU, the UNDP, and the USA among other sources.49 In spite of the spike in donor interest, little has come of the many programs and activities implemented since 2005–2006. The programs of international NGOs provide trainings but these seldom yield tangible long-term results. Describing an internationally funded training, one of our interviewees summarized its – otherwise standard – outcome by saying that some of the participants remained in intermittent contact with their opposing interlocutors. International NGOs often acknowledge the challenge that they face. SFCG’s website describes the NGO’s effort to develop a peacebuilding videogame in the following terms: “Traditional peacebuilding activities often tend to reach only those already interested in peacebuilding and end up preaching to the choir. To truly make a difference, we want to go beyond this approach and impact marginalized and other hard-to-reach audiences.”50 It is indeed the case that, in Lebanon, liberal peace actors (of whom the Western organizations promoting social cohesion are but a subset) have privileged “civil society organizations manned by foreign-educated, French- or English-speaking youth” (Zahar 2012b, 80). But many of these CSOs were not sufficiently institutionalized to deliver large-scale programming. Not only did the CSOs have little institutional capacity, but they also competed against one another in an attempt to attract more funding and enhance their visibility. As a result, many donors “fell back on communal organizations whose rootedness in society equipped them LEBANON: CONFESSIONALISM, CONSOCIATIONALISM, AND SOCIAL COHESION 123 better to carry out programs” (Zahar 2012b, 80). More recently, the EU has been trying to push for the establishment of a national NGO platform to channel international money in such a way as to deliver better results in terms of both efficiency and sustainability.51 Indeed, one of the lessons of international engagement with Lebanese CSOs and civil society actors in general is that their actions tend to be successful to the extent that they cooperate with one another, as is the case for civil campaigns such as the campaign on women’s rights.52 Complicating the work of international and national NGOs concerned with social cohesion are two broader factors: Lebanon’s oft-changing security environment and the lack of political will and governmental buy-in (with the limited exception of occasional local buy-in at the level of municipalities).53 Regarding the latter, not only does the state not buy into social cohesion programs and activities but political elites use loop- holes in the law on associations to combat those NGOs that do not further their own narrow local or sectarian interests, including withholding licen- sing, influencing internal elections, and setting up parallel structures (Clark and Zahar 2015, 14). In a country where sectarian leaders permeate the state and where foreign donors privilege their relationship with state structures, NGOs find themselves forced to court sectarian leaders, modify their programs to be granted access to areas under a given leader’s control, and water down the anti-sectarian bent of their social cohesion work. For example, when hosting events, a member of Intizarat al Shabab (Expectations of Youth) stated, the golden rule is to avoid doing anything that would upset the local party. Echoing this comment, a founder of Tayyar al Mujtama al Madani (going by Mouvement Social in French), an ANGO dedicated to secularism, stated that his organization purposefully avoids using the term secularism and sensitive topics when holding events in areas politically controlled by one sect. The founder of Beit Bil Jnoub (House of the South), an ANGO committed to rebuilding homes in the south, partially credits his success to his personal connection to the dominant party in the area where his ANGO was working (Clark and Zahar 2015, 14). With the start of the war in nearby Syria, new challenges to social cohesion are tiesd to the massive influx of Syrian refugees and unprecedented pressure on institutions and service provision. Most international nongovernmental institutions have reacted to developments by refocusing their programming, leaving other problems of social cohesion unresolved.54 124 J. AOUN AND M.-J. ZAHAR

THE UN AND SOCIAL COHESION The United Nations is one of Lebanon’s long-standing partners in the field of development assistance. Indeed, not only is Lebanon a founding member of the organization, the United Nations Interim Force in Lebanon (UNIFIL) has been deployed in South Lebanon since 1978, in 1997 the Economic and Social Commission for West Asia (ESCWA) returned to Beirut – its permanent headquarters, from which it had moved during the war, and, in 2008, the UN established the post of Special Coordinator for Lebanon (UNSCOL). How the UN engages in Lebanon varies – at least in part – on the region where the missions, agencies, funds, programs, or offices are located. The south has typically been the recipient of most security support and humanitarian assistance, whereas remote areas across the country have benefited from development assistance. The UN has been involved in recovery assistance following major security breaches, for instance following the 2006 Hizballah–Israel war during which the Israeli aviation destroyed most of Lebanon’s road infrastructure or after the 2008 clashes between the Lebanese Armed Forces and Islamists holed up in the Palestinian refugee camp of Nahr el-Bared in North Lebanon. UN development assistance is described as “not necessarily deepening divisions but not healing them either.”’55 In general, little attention was paid to using recovery assistance in order to bridge differences between communities. According to a senior UNIFIL official, UN engagement in the south has traditionally not had to contend with high levels of interreligious violence. Instead, Christians, Sunnis, and Shi’a had shared interests related to collective security vis-à-vis Israel and common concerns surrounding the presence of Palestinian refugees.56 Assessing efforts in the wake of the 2006 Israel–Hizballah conflict, Aida Tamer-Chammas argues that UN and international donor efforts could have been used to foster social cohesion had opposing communities been engaged on common future- looking projects (Tamer-Chammas 2012, 218–219). Indeed, those efforts that positively influenced social cohesion – such as a UN-funded project where different villages came together to benefit from a recycling project in Bint Jbeil or the construction by UNIFIL’s Indian contingent of a space including a mosque, a church and temple that provided locals with the opportunity to pray in a shared space – were mostly punctual initiatives.57 In seeking to foster social cohesion, the United Nations’ reputation for neutrality may provide the organization with comparative advantage vis-à-vis LEBANON: CONFESSIONALISM, CONSOCIATIONALISM, AND SOCIAL COHESION 125 other donors who are perceived to be siding with either March 8th or March 14th. The organization’s lengthy engagement with Lebanon may also provide comparative advantage in terms of implementation expertise. However, the UN also suffers from a number of limitations. First is its privileged partnership with the state. The UNDP identifies “ministries such as social affairs and education as the main partners in its efforts to promote pro-poor, local development, local governance and empowerment projects” (Clark and Zahar 2015, 11). Thus, the state has leverage in identifying the UN’slocal CSO partners. Oftentimes, state officials privilege communal organizations as their partners. In looking for partners, the UN also privileges efficiency, ability to deliver and report, and sustainability, criteria that create bias toward engaging with older more established communal CSOs at the expense of new inter-communal organizations. Last but not least, the organization employs a significant number of local staff including former ministry officials who are likely to reflect rather than overcome existing divisions within society.58 Although the UNDP already identified social cohesion as a major challenge in the context of the National Human Development Report 2008 entitled Towards a Citizen’s State,59 the UN only started paying sustained attention to social cohesion after the incidents that opposed March 8th–14th supporters in 2008. Thus, when the time came to rebuild the Nahr el-Bared Palestinian refugee camp, the project, funded by the European Community Humanitarian Office (ECHO), included the establishment of six joint Lebanese-Palestinian working groups, intended to enhance communal problem solving.60 Nevertheless, UN officials recognize that there has been a marked increase in sectarian identification in the wake of the Syria crisis and that this creates obstacles for social cohesion initiatives.61 These obstacles are by no means unique to UN social cohesion efforts. The USA faces similar critical challenges and the US Embassy officials in Lebanon cite tensions in Tripoli as an example of how traditional communal bonds may be coming undone.62

DOMESTIC PERCEPTIONS OF DONOR ENGAGEMENT Post-2005, local Lebanese perceptions of donor engagement revolve around three elements: an evaluation of the genuine commitment of donors to their stated objectives of fostering social cohesion, an evaluation of the professionalism of donors in establishing relations with local partners, and an assessment of donor efﬁciency in responding to identiﬁed needs. 126 J. AOUN AND M.-J. ZAHAR

Many Lebanese question the commitment of (particularly Western) donors to their stated objectives of fostering social cohesion. Following the 2006 war between Israel and Hizballah, Western donors gave to an Emergency Flash Appeal, but several “exerted pressures on UN agencies and NGOs [nongovernmental organizations] not to meet or provide assistance to Hizballah.”63 This type of conditionality made some NGOs weary. Fearful for their political autonomy, several Lebanese NGOs decided to hold back and refuse the money of donors whose support came with conditions, particularly when these conditions deepened the rift between the various components of Lebanese society. For instance, several NGO leaders interviewed by Clark and Zahar suggested that they refused financial assistance from the United States Agency for International Development (USAID) because of the US stance vis-à-vis Hizballah (Clark and Zahar 2015, 13, 17). Local civil society activists critique the approach taken by Western donors on several fronts. On the one hand, they underline that social cohesion programs have little tangible impact, as discussed above. CSO activists also criticize the manner in which donors contributed to the professionalization of Lebanese NGOs and squandered the volunteer spirit of members.64 Others stress that recipients of aid (NGO, ministries, municipalities, etc.) do not really develop in terms of integrating additional capacity or capabilities. They produce reports, programs hire staff and create jobs, generate a project, and produce knowledge, but most of these efforts are not sustainable in the long term it does not translate into development.65 For some, this is due to the cookie-cutter approach that donors apply to problems. One interviewee described the approach as “ethnocentric, irrelevant, and detached from reality” requiring the input of local staff to transform programs “into something feasible and adapted to the local context.” He added, “They may be reaching communities or targeting them but they are not impacting them.”66 As discussed earlier, this is partly due to the fact that the donor community was comfortable with certain individuals (dubbed by some as “the social entrepreneurs”)or organizations,67 but these were not necessarily the appropriate transmission belts as many of them had little or no roots in Lebanese society beyond the capital, Beirut. The Lebanese are generally dissatisfied with the reaction of Western donors to the consequences of the war in Syria on Lebanon. According to a poll conducted in May 2013 by Norway’s Fafo Research Foundation, 52% of Lebanese polled believe the influx of displaced Syrians threatens LEBANON: CONFESSIONALISM, CONSOCIATIONALISM, AND SOCIAL COHESION 127 national security. Sixty-three percent of those polled felt strongly or to some extent that displaced Syrian were receiving economic assistance to an unfair degree. In the North where social cohesion has suffered as a result of intermittent fighting between pro- and anti-Assad communities in the city of Tripoli, 74% of those surveyed agreed with the statement. While a majority of Lebanese, some 70% of respondents, expressed a desire to see the UN establish camps for Syrian refugees, an overwhelming 95% of those polled felt that the economic cost of housing of displaced Syrians should be the burden of the international community. Amidst these criticisms, there are those who are satisfied with donor engagement in Lebanon. Among those, several point to the fact that the international community seems more supportive of social cohesion efforts as well as more attuned to local realities. Those who hold such views stress that six or seven years ago, international donors or organizations excluded or bypassed the religious or communal components of Lebanese society, funding only more “benign” and secular projects. Today, these aspects are fully taken on board in designing and funding social cohesion programming.68

NEGATIVE RESILIENCE:MAINTAINING, BUT NOT BUILDING,PEACE IN LEBANON This study began with a series of questions about the meaning of social cohesion, its origins, the actors who promote or constrain it, and the role of the international community in fostering it, all in the context of Lebanon, a small, plural society, politically constructed around a complex power-sharing system, and buffeted by the winds of regional and international change. The notion of negative resilience is Lebanon’s foremost contribution to the study of social cohesion. Whereas research on peacebuilding and post- conflict reconstruction suggests that cohesion and stability go hand in hand, Lebanon puts the complexity of the relationship under a magnifying lens. Since the outburst of armed conflict in neighboring Syria, Lebanon’s apparent stability has been incorrectly described as a sign of social cohesion. While some analysts wonder about the country’s seeming ability to weather the storm, others describe it as constantly on the brink of collapse and disaster. From tensions between the Sunni and the Shi’a communities to intra-communal strife – particularly but not only within Lebanon’s Sunni community, there is ample proof that social cohesion is being put to the test. So, what accounts for 128 J. AOUN AND M.-J. ZAHAR the country’s stability? The standard explanationthatseemstoemergebrings us back to the notion of shared interests. A prominent Lebanese politician describes the country as a business with communal leaders as the stakeholders. It is the shared interests of these stakeholders that explain the ability of Lebanontoremainstableinspiteofgrowingtensionslocally,nationally, and regionally. This echoes the assessment of Kingston and Zahar who explain the failure of the militias’ project to establish cantons in Lebanon and the reemergence of a loosely unified political field, stating that:

Lebanese economic and political elites recognize the beneﬁts of maintaining a broader framework for economic accumulation than was provided during the war. Not only does a united political framework provide a more efﬁcient method of regulating the competition between elites for scarce resources, it also provides a mechanism for maximizing the size of the pool – both by ensuring as open and unregulated an economic arena as possible and by using the coercive instruments of the state to limit the redistributive pressures from below that seek to broaden the clientelistic bargain and limit the opportunities for ‘extractive’ corruption. (Kingston and Zahar 2004, 93)

Lebanon’s negative resilience is as much the result of elite calculations as it is the outcome of social and political dynamics that have created economically interdependent yet socially separate communities. In Lebanon, social cohesion is strong within communities yet weak across them. In other words, there is much more bonding than bridging social capital in the country and the system has been designed so as to allow elite cooperation to substitute for inter-communal social cohesion. For the time being, the Lebanese coexist but different communities do not share a common lived experience nor do they have a joint vision for the country and its future. As one of the foremost thinkers of Lebanese nationalism, Georges Naccache, wrote back in 1949 referring to the National Pact’s foreign policy compact whereby Maronites agreed not to pursue close ties with Europe and Sunnis not to seek Arab unity, “two negations do not create a nation.”69 What then of efforts to promote social cohesion in Lebanon? The analysis highlights two hopeful avenues: widespread societal mobilization against some of the most egregious aspects of the sectarian system, particularly women’s rights and civil marriage, and mobilization in favor of better service provision. In both instances, the issues at stake cut across sectarian lines. These issues affect citizens in ways that challenge the LEBANON: CONFESSIONALISM, CONSOCIATIONALISM, AND SOCIAL COHESION 129 current compact between sectarian elites and the communities that they represent. Indeed, in both instances, citizens looked to the state for answers to their problems. Whether by demanding that the state challenge the hold of religious leaders on civil status, or by demanding more state accountability particularly in the form of decentralization at the local level to address the needs of citizens, these kinds of mobilization break with the traditional mold. Traditional communities would address their grievances through their own communal leaders. It might be that this is the kind of social cooperation will, in due time, and given a favorable setting, create the conditions for social cohesion in Lebanon. In a country enmeshed in a web of regional and international politics, one cannot but reflect upon the role of outside factors on the dynamics of social cohesion. In this regard, and for the short to medium term, no other factor is as important as the Syrian crisis and its reverberations in Lebanese politics and society. There is no easy solution to the pressure that displaced Syrians currently residing in Lebanon exert on social cohesion in host communities and beyond. Whereas all leading Lebanese factions agree that the problem must be addressed, there is no agreement on how to go about it. Indeed, disagreement over the presence of displaced Syrians in Lebanon has already exacerbated societal polarization particularly as refugees settle into already disadvantaged Lebanese communities.70 Another factor influencing social cohesion in Lebanon is the manner in which international donors engage with the various communities. Currently, convergence between internal political polarization and regional/international dynamics complicates donor engagement. For instance, important donors like the USA – and to a lesser degree the EU – struggle to engage the government of Lebanon directly so long as Hizballah remains in government. This situation – given popular support for the Party of God – is unlikely to dissipate any time soon. One of Lebanon’s most important donors, Saudi Arabia, suspended its USD3 billion annual aid package to the Lebanese Armed Forces as well as an additional USD1 billion package earmarked for the Lebanese security services in March 2016. While Saudi officials cited Hizballah’s failure to condemn a January 2016 attack on the Saudi Embassy in Tehran as the reason for this move, it is nevertheless clear that this decision reflects increasing regional strains between Sunni Saudi Arabia and Shi’a Iran, strains that are magnified by Hizballah’sroleinthe Syrian conflict and that cannot but reverberate in Lebanon. Another consequence of the Syrian conflict, the emergence and until recently seeming territorial consolidation and advances of the Islamic State 130 J. AOUN AND M.-J. ZAHAR in Iraq and the Levant is likely to affect the dynamics of social cohesion. ISIL may have a constituency among Salafi Sunnis in Lebanon, whose number is on the rise since the beginning of the civil war in Syria. However, it has also triggered an intra-communal divide with some groups like Lebanon’s Jamaa Islamiyya, the local branch of the Muslim Brotherhood, agreeing with liberals and Sunni moderates to call ISIL and its leadership heretics. Further, if one accepts the description of Lebanese elites as stakeholders in a shared business venture, then ISIL may be perceived as a threat by all stakeholders equally, triggering a movement toward social cohesion. Similar reactions have in the past happened with Israeli attacks in 1996 and 2006 triggering “rally around the flag” effects. What remains to be seen is whether this short-term social unity created by a common threat can outlast the disappearance of the threat, or whether, once the danger has passed, Lebanese citizens will once again fall back on the divisions and the inter-communal bickering that have been the norm in the country since independence.

NOTES 1. http://data.unhcr.org/syrianrefugees/country.php?id=122. 2. The Lebanese government estimates that the actual number of Syrian nationals in Lebanon exceeds ofﬁcial numbers or registered refugees/awaiting registrations; this estimate includes Syrian guest workers and their families, as well as other Syrians of means not registered with any UN agency. Author’s interview with senior advisor to Interim Prime Minister Najib Mikati, name withheld, Beirut, June 10, 2013. 3. António Guterres, “Forced Displacement and the Promise of Pluralism,” Annual Pluralism Lecture 2014, Global Centre for Pluralism, Ottawa, Canada.http://www.pluralism.ca/images/PDF_docs/APL2014/ 2014APL_Antonio_Guterres.pdf 4. “Lebanon’s Fractured City of Tripoli Starts to Rebuild after Tentative Peace,” IRIN News, May 28, 2014, http://www.irinnews.org/report/ 100145/lebanon-s-fractured-city-of-tripoli-starts-to-rebuild-after-tenta tive-peace. 5. This is not intended to suggest that there is no intra-communal fragmentation. It is simply intended to depict general trends. 6. For example, American sociologist Edward Shils described Lebanon as “a happy phenomenon, unique in the Third World, a prosperous liberal country” (1966, p. 1). For similarly positive assessments see Lijphart (1969) and Lembruch (1975). LEBANON: CONFESSIONALISM, CONSOCIATIONALISM, AND SOCIAL COHESION 131

7. Some analysts blame the country’s ills on the destabilizing impact of transnational ideologies – Nasserism in the 1950s, the Palestinian cause in the 1970s, Shia Islamism in the 2000s. For a discussion of the impact of broader regional issues on the politics of Lebanon before the 1975 civil war see Ghassan (2000) and Khazen (2000). 8. For a good overview of the various dimensions of Lebanese politics since 2005, see Knudsen and Kerr (2012). 9. Note: analysis based in part on Marie-Joëlle Zahar and Joy Aoun, “Communalism and the confessional state: Reconsidering Lebanon’s per- ennial chicken and egg problem,” paper presented at the World Congress for Middle East Studies, Barcelona, July 2010. 10. Bernhard Hillenkamp, “Civil Society in Lebanon: Sensitive Issues are Avoided,” Qantara (2005), Available at: http://www.qantara.de/web com/show_article.php/_c-593/_nr-8/i.html; see also Kiwan (2003). 11. Authors’ interview with high-ranking official at the Lebanese Ministry of Education and Higher Education, name withheld, Beirut, June 30, 2013. 12. Ibid. 13. As-Safir, March 31, 1998, p. 2 and An-Nahar, April 1, 1998, p. 2, cited in Reinkowski and Saadeh (2006, 106). 14. Abdallah Salam, “Commentary: Lebanon Is Living a Silent Revolution,” The Daily Star, May 14, 2013, http://www.dailystar.com.lb/Article.aspx? id=216988#ixzz341oNAMky. 15. Authors’ interview with Chakib Qortbawi, Minister of Justice (at the time of the interview), Beirut, June 28, 2013. 16. A 2010 survey conducted jointly by UNRWA and the American University of Beirut found that the number of refugees still in the country hovered around 260–280,000. The majority of Palestinian refugees live in 12 camps where they are denied basic socio-economic rights such as the right to freely choose their professions and to own property. In spite of a law approved in Parliament in 2010 to facilitate the employment of refugees, Palestinians are prohibited from exercising more than 30 “liberal” professions such as medicine, law and engineering. The prohibition against property ownership was institutionalized in 2001 when Parliament amended Presidential Decree 11,614 that allowed non-Lebanese nationals to own property in Lebanon. The amendment, originally intended to encourage foreign investment, “excludes individuals who do not have a recognised nationality from owning property. The new law also prevents Palestinian refugees from bequeathing their property, even if the property was acquired before 2001.” Sari Hanafi, “Palestinians in Lebanon: Status, governance, and security,” in Alexander Ramsbotham and Elizabeth Picard, eds., Reconciliation, Reform and Resilience: Positive Peace for Lebanon, Accord no. 24 (London: Conciliation Resources, 2012), 67. 132 J. AOUN AND M.-J. ZAHAR

17. It is important to note that, to date, Lebanese do not refer to Syrians who have fled their country as refugees – the international legal term for persons who are forced to cross an international border as a result of war in their country – but as “displaced” individuals. The word “settlement” is also used in lieu of “camps,” stemming in part from the stigma and polarization surrounding Palestinian refugees in Lebanon. This choice in terminology also reflects the complexities and contradictions of Lebanese–Syrian relations. Author’s interviews with leadership from across the Lebanese political spectrum, June 10–27, 2013. 18. See for example, Bertelsmann Stiftung, BTI 2012 – Lebanon Country Report. Gütersloh: Bertelsmann Stiftung, 2012. 19. Michael Gilsenan, “‘Akkar Before the Civil War: Lebanon’s Gateway to Syria,’ Lebanon’s War: Any End in Sight?,” Middle East Report, No. 162 (January/February 1990). Available at http://www.merip.org/mer/ mer162/akkar-civil-war. 20. Authors’ interview with senior active duty Lebanese Armed Forces officer, name withheld, Beirut, September 19, 2013; Authors’ interview with Aram Nerguizian, Senior Fellow, Burke Chair in Strategy at the Center for Strategic & International Studies, Washington DC, October 10, 2013. See also, Aram Nerguizian, “Lebanese Civil-Military Dynamics: Weathering the Regional Storm?” SADA, The Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, November 21, 2011. 21. “Lebanese Banking Sector Reaffirms Stability,” The Lebanon Bulletin Archive, The Aspen Institute, July 5, 2012; “Salameh: Central bank maintaining Stability,” The Daily Star, March 27, 2013. 22. Alfred B. Prados, “Lebanon,” CRS Issue Brief for Congress, Congressional Research Service, March 16, 2006, p. 9; “Mikati urges return to National Dialogue,” The Daily Star, May 30, 2013. 23. Authors’ interview with Ambassador Abdallah Bouhabib, former Lebanese Ambassador to the United States, Issam Fares Center for Lebanon, Beirut, June 10, 2013; Authors’ interview with Bassem R. Shabb, Member of Parliament, Future Movement, Beirut, June 20, 2013; Authors’ interview with Bassel F. Salloukh, Associate Professor of Political Science at the Social Sciences Department at LAU, Beirut, June 26, 2013. 24. Ibid. 25. Authors’ interview with Carla Edde, Chairperson of the History Department, Saint Joseph University, Beirut, June 11, 2013; Authors’ interview with Michel Pharaon, Member of Parliament (currently Minister of Tourism), March 14 coalition, Beirut, July 2, 2013. 26. See Clark and Salloukh 2013; Authors’ interview with Bassel F. Salloukh, Associate Professor of Political Science at the Social Sciences Department at LAU, Beirut, June 26, 2013; Authors’ interview with Aram Nerguizian, LEBANON: CONFESSIONALISM, CONSOCIATIONALISM, AND SOCIAL COHESION 133

Senior Fellow, Burke Chair in Strategy at the Center for Strategic & International Studies, Washington DC, October 10, 2013. 27. Jihad al-Zayn, “Al-Sira‘‘ala al-Jaysh,” an-Nahar, June 2, 2007; see also Zahar (2012b:77–81). 28. See Lijphart, “Consociational Democracy,” 1969. 29. Authors’ interview with General Michel Aoun, Head of the Free Patriotic Movement, Rabieh, June 14, 2013; Authors’ interview with Nehmat Frem, General Manager INDEVCO & Chairman of the Association of Lebanese Industrialists, Jounieh, June 18, 2013; Authors’ interview with Bassem R. Shabb, Member of Parliament (Future Movement, March 14th coalition), Beirut, June 20, 2013; Authors’ interview with Michel Pharaon, Member of Parliament (March 14th coalition), Beirut, July 2, 2013; Authors’ interview with Walid Joumblatt, Head of the Progressive Socialist Party, Beirut, March, June & July 2013; Joe Maila, Saoud el-Mawla, and Father Salim Daccache, Roundtable: “Pluralisme, vivre ensemble et citoyenneté au Liban: le salut vient-il de l’école?”, Saint Joseph University, Beirut, June 13, 2013. 30. The most famous illustration is the revamping of the administrative capital of South Lebanon, Saida, at the behest of Prime Minister Raﬁq Hariri who hailed from the city. 31. Katarina Uherova Hasbani, “Electricity Sector Reform in Lebanon: Political Consensus in Waiting,” CDDRL Working Papers, Issue 124, Stanford University, December 2011, available at: http://iis-db.stanford.edu/ pubs/23465/No._124_Electricity_Sector_Reform.pdf. 32. Author’s interviews with representatives of the Armenian political leadership, Beirut, June 20, 2013. 33. The Mada Association, Forgotten Akkar: Socio-Economic Reality of the Akkar Region, January 2008, available at: http://www.mada.org.lb/resources/ Forgotten_Akkar.pdf; “Poverty, Growth and Income Distribution in Lebanon,” Country Study, No. 13, International Poverty Center, January 2008. 34. See UNDP, Investigating Grey Areas: Access to Basic Urban Services in the Adjacent Areas of Palestinian Refugee Camps in Lebanon (Beirut: UNDP, 2010). 35. Ibid. See Norimitsu Orishi, “Lebanon Worries that Housing Will Make Syrian Refugees Stay,” The New York Times, December 11, 2013, p. A1, available at: http://www.nytimes.com/2013/12/11/world/middleeast/ lebanon-worries-that-housing-will-make-syrian-refugees-stay.html?_r=0. 36. Author’s interviews with leadership from across the Lebanese political spectrum, June 10–27, 2013. 37. The Mikati government had to resign in March 2013 because of severe disagreements over its efforts to prepare parliamentary elections due to be held in summer of that year and which, at the time of writing, had still not been held. 134 J. AOUN AND M.-J. ZAHAR

38. Hariri was Prime Minister in four postwar governments between 1992 and 2005 (1992, 1993, 1996, and 2000). See Blanford (2006) and Iskander (2006). 39. For evaluations of the reconstruction scheme, see Volker Perthes, “Myths and Money: Four Years of Hariri and Lebanon’s Preparation for a New Middle East,” MERIP Report, No. 203, Lebanon and Syria: The Geopolitics of Change (Spring 1997), 16–21 and Michael Young, “Two Faces of Janus: Post-War Lebanon and its Reconstruction,” MERIP Report, No. 209 (Winter 1998). 40. These are the World Bank (17%), the European institutions (15%), the Arab Fund for Economic and Social Development (12%), the Islamic Development Bank (9%), Italy (9%), the Kuwaiti institutions (8%), and the Saudi Fund for Development (6%). CDR Progress Report 2001. 41. Ibid., 16. 42. Fuad Siniora, “Lebanon’s Economic Reform and Prospects,” Public lecture, London School of Economics and Politics, May 9, 2006. Transcript available at, http://www.lse.edu/collections/LSEPublicLecturesAndEvents/ events/2006/20060503t1816z001.htm#generated-subheading2. 43. Western creditors ﬁnanced over half of the overall reconstruction budgets. 44. Aram Nerguizian, “Lebanon at the Crossroads: Assessing the Impact of the Lebanon-Syria Insecurity Nexus,” Center for Strategic & International Studies, February 26, 2014, pp. 1–2, available at http://csis.org/publica tion/lebanon-crossroad-assessing-impact-lebanon-syria-insecurity-nexus. 45. Christopher M. Blanchard, “Lebanon: Background and U.S. Policy,” Congressional Research Service Report, R42816, February 14, 2014, pp. 11–12. 46. Authors’ interview with Duccio Bandini, Programme Manager – Instrument for Stability, Security Sector Reform and Peace-building, Delegation of the European Union in Lebanon, October 14, 2013. 47. Ibid. 48. Most of these had never worked in Lebanon before; some, like SFCG, had been in country since 1996 but did not have a permanent presence before 2005. 49. For a full list of donorss, see http://www.umam-dr.org/partners.php?loca tion=partners&page=1. 50. SFCG, Cedaria: Blackout, https://www.sfcg.org/cedaria/ 51. Authors’ interview with Duccio Bandini, Programme Manager – Instrument for Stability. 52. Ibid. 53. Ibid. 54. Ibid. 55. Authors’ interview with high-ranking UN ofﬁcial, United Nations Interim Force in Lebanon (UNIFIL), name withheld, Beirut, July 3, 2013. LEBANON: CONFESSIONALISM, CONSOCIATIONALISM, AND SOCIAL COHESION 135

56. Ibid. 57. Ibid. 58. Ibid. 59. Maha Yahya (Project Director), Lebanon National Human Development Report: Towards a Citizen’s State (Beirut:UNDP,2009),availableathttp://hdr.undp. org/sites/default/files/nhdr_lebanon_20082009_en.pdf. 60. United Nations Development Programme Lebanon Country Office, Project Fiche, UN Agency Joint Project “Integrated Support to The Rehabilitation of NBC Adjacent Area,” available at http://www.un.org.lb/Library/Files/ Joint%20projects/Joint%20UN-ECHO%20NBC%20Adjacent%20Area% 20article%20for%20the%20web.pdf. 61. Authors’ interview with Luca Renda, Country Director and Joanna Nassar, Project Manager, UNDP “Strengthening Civil Peace in Lebanon” project, Beirut, July 3, 2013. 62. Authors interview with US government officials, Embassy of the United States of America, names withheld, Beirut, June 19, 2013. 63. David Sharer and Francine Pickup, “Dilemmas for Aid Policy in Lebanon and the Occupied Palestinian Territories,” Humanitarian Exchange Magazine 37 (March 2007): 4–6, www.odihpn.org/report.asp?id=2871, cited in Zahar (2012b, 79). 64. Comments by Samer Abdallah, general coordinator, Nahwa al- Muwatiniyya, at a workshop on donor-NGO relations in postconflict settings, Lebanese American University, Beirut, July 22, 2011. Cited in Zahar, “Norm Transmission in Peace- and State-Building,” 80. 65. Authors’ interview with NGO representative, name withheld, Beirut, June 21, 2013. 66. Ibid. 67. Authors’ interview with Independent consultant and former NDI Program Officer, name withheld, Beirut, June 24, 2013. 68. Authors’ interview with Fadi Daou, Chairman, Adyan, Beirut, June 24, 2013. 69. Georges Naccache, “Deux Négations ne Font pas une Nation!” L’Orient, May 10, 1949. 70. Poverty Reduction and Economic Management Department, Middle East and North Africa Region, Lebanon Economic and Social Impact Assessment of The Syrian Conflict, Report No. 81098-LB (World Bank: Washington, DC, September 20, 2013), available at http://www-wds. worldbank.org/external/default/WDSContentServer/WDSP/IB/ 2013/09/24/000333037_20130924111238/Rendered/PDF/ 810980LB0box379831B00P14754500PUBLIC0.pdf.Thisreportwas requested by the Government of Lebanon and conducted in collaboration with the UN, the EU, and the IMF. 136 J. AOUN AND M.-J. ZAHAR

Joy Aoun is a Disaster Risk Management Specialist with the World Bank Group. Her areas of expertise include damage and needs assessments in countries affected by conﬂict, fragility and disasters in the Middle East and North Africa region. Prior to joining the Bank she served as a Research Associate and Adjunct Fellow with the Center for Strategic and International Studies (CSIS) program on Crisis, Conﬂict, and Cooperation.

Marie-Joëlle Zahar is a Professor of Political Science and Director of the Research Network on Peace Operations at the Université de Montréal. A specialist of civil wars and peacebuilding, she has worked comparatively on militia politics, war economies, and the dynamics of post-conﬂict reconstruction in the Middle East, the Balkans, and Sub-Saharan Africa. CHAPTER 6

Myanmar: Religion, Identity, and Conﬂict in a Democratic Transition

Nicholas Farrelly

Myanmar, a complex and often conflicted society, shares long borders with India, China, and Thailand, and shorter international frontiers with Laos and Bangladesh. Sometimes described as the “crossroads of Asia” its 52 million people are hostage to histories of ethnic and religious conflict that consistently challenge the logic of centralization (Thant 2012). Governments based in Mandalay and Yangon, and now in the new capital of Naypyitaw, have sought to assert control over a vast, mountainous, and culturally diverse country, where claims to autonomy and self-determination have echoed for decades (Scott 2009). The civil wars that have raged in Myanmar’s ethnically distinct corners have fortified a dynamic national discourse about national unity, non-disintegration, and social cohesion (Holliday 2014). In a context where more than 20 major armed groups have regularly threatened the government’s claim to a monopoly on the legitimate use of force for state-making projects, social cohesion has proved elusive (South 2008). The consolidation of Myanmar’s territorial integrity and internal security has been predicated on the entrenchment of military government. From 1962 to 2010 Myanmar, and previously Burma,

N. Farrelly (*) Australian National University (ANU), Canberra, Australia e-mail: [email protected]

© The Author(s) 2017 137 F.D. Cox, T.D. Sisk (eds.), Peacebuilding in Deeply Divided Societies, Rethinking Political Violence, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-50715-6_6 138 N. FARRELLY became synonymous, internationally, with dictatorial misrule.1 Analysis of Myanmar’s recent political and social history has emphasized confrontation between the military dictatorship, and its incarnation as the State Peace and Development Council, and the forces of democracy, as led by Nobel Peace Laureate Aung San Suu Kyi.2 After the devastation of Cyclone Nargis in 2007, a natural calamity that killed an estimated 140,000 people, the military sought to rapidly implement its “7 step roadmap to democracy” (Selth 2008a). Early in this process there were many inside the country and abroad that doubted the regime’s sincerity. With the implementation of the 2008 constitution and the 2010 election, Myanmar has enjoyed an abrupt change in its international recep- tion. In the lead-up to the November 2015 general election the country remained undemocratic in key respects, but recent political changes unleashed transformative forces in political, economic, and cultural spheres.3 These changes have profound implications for the management of Myanmar’s religious and cultural diversity at a time when new conﬂicts threaten to undermine the unfolding story of national rejuvenation.

MYANMAR IN TRANSITION Myanmar’s story vaulted to prominence with the November 2010 general election. The election was deemed neither free nor fair by outside observers, but it still heralded significant changes to political culture and international perceptions of Myanmar (Turnell 2011). After five decades of stern military dictatorship, there is new space for contending views and opposition politics, particularly centered on the Pyidaungsu Hluttaw, the Union Assembly in Naypyitaw (Taylor 2012). Sudden changes to political management – including the implementation of a multilayered legislative system, and the liberalization of the media and the Internet – garnered widespread local and international acclaim. International aid organizations have sought to establish large-scale operations in response to what they see as nation-wide development needs.4 In a country where Gross Domestic Product (GDP) per capita only recently crossed the USD1,000 threshold, there are great ambitions for economic development.5 Around 70% of the population does not have access to regular electricity and many other services, including education, healthcare, and sanitation, are basic.6 Efforts to revitalize Myanmar’sinfra- structure and lackluster technological resources are emboldened by the impression that the country’s potential, both human and natural, remains MYANMAR: RELIGION, IDENTITY, AND CONFLICT IN A DEMOCRATIC ... 139 largely “untapped.”7 The current boom in foreign political and development interest is matched by changes to the investment climate. While the USA maintains certain sanctions against members of the former military dictatorship, there have been many efforts to rehabilitate ties through diminishing the breadth and severity of restrictions.8 The European Union (EU) and Australia now only implement arms embargoes. In response to these changes, major multinational companies from Western democracies are building businesses in Myanmar for the first time in a generation. Companies like Coca Cola and Pepsi lead the charge.9 Optimistic sentiments prevail, although there is a clear need to carefully weigh the positive trends against others that are profoundly negative.10 During this period of transition, Myanmar faces interlocking challenges in terms of conflict resolution, governance, and religious tolerance. Since independence from British colonial rule in 1948 nobody is certain of how many people have been killed in the country’s civil wars. Analysts speculate the total is near 750,000 people. On all sides there is an appreciation that the cost in blood and treasure has been immense.11 In October 2015, a long series of negotiations culminated in a ceasefire agreement that includes some, but not all, of the key ethnic armed groups.12 More generally, there is a slow recognition that a federal system of government will offer a chance of ending ethnic conflicts once-and-for-all.13 Today the challenge for governance in Myanmar’s ethnic areas is that disparate ceasefire agreements and tentative truces provide only mild confidence that Myanmar society can catalyze long-term unity (Farrelly 2014a). There is consensus in policy-making circles that the resolution on ethnic conflicts is the primary precondition for the country’s future stability and prosperity. While the management of inter-ethnic conflicts takes center stage, a religious fault line has introduced worrying new dynamics. Inter-religious group conflict – pitting Buddhists against Muslims in spiteful and violent local pogroms – threatens to derail wider social and political reform efforts (Kipgen 2013). From 2012 there have been regular episodes of violence between Buddhists and Muslims, initially limited to Rakhine state along the border with Bangladesh. These conflicts then spread to other areas.14 In July 2014, the city of Mandalay in central Myanmar was put under curfew to help contain the fury of anti-Muslim groups.15 In many cases, the initial triggers for conflict are alleged assaults, particularly perpetrated by Muslim men against Buddhist women. However, there are deeper social and political factors. The Association 140 N. FARRELLY to Protect Race and Religion, otherwise known as Ma Ba Tha, its Myanmar language acronym, is a Buddhist nationalist movement widely associated with leading monks such as U Wirathu that helps create conditions for the normalization of anti-Muslim sentiments.16 While the government continues to endorse its stale narrative of “union spirit” there are a number of important groups, such as the Rohingya17 and the ethnic Chinese, who are, at least formally, excluded from the national story of ethnic coexistence (Holliday 2007; Shannon and Farrelly 2014). Articulating an alternative vision for Myanmar as a plural society is one possible approach to tackling the hatred and paranoia that motivates violence against vulnerable ethnic and religious minorities.18 This heavily compromised democratic structure is a target for reform, with regular calls for constitutional amendment to diminish the military’sroleand equalize opportunities for political participation.19 Discussions about how the 2008 constitution can better reflect the country’s complex ethnic and regional differences are now linked to the resolution of conflict through a federal system of government. As these negotiations continued, in 2014 Myanmar took the chair of the Association of Southeast Asian Nations for the first time,20 andin2014alsocompletedthefirst national census in more than 30 years. Each of these achievements is helping moderate criticism in a context where former senior military officers or their close associates hold most senior positions, including the presidency. The 2015 general election – won by the National League for Democracy (NLD) in a landslide – presented a pivotal opportunity to a further diminution of military power and the greater participation of Myanmar’s many ardently democratic voices. For many Myanmar people the incremental approach to change is exasperating because so many senior figures from the military regime remain in key decision-making positions.21 Ongoing debates about federalism, with a modest level of decentralization already occurring, appear to have received important endorsements from among Myanmar’s most powerful figures. Ethnic and religious minorities remain fearful that the central government will exclude them from the country’s political reor- ientation, meaning there is no easy solution to the challenge of recent religious conflict. For the country’s 135 officially designated “national races” there are obvious pathways to inclusion and relative harmony. Some groups, however, most notably the Rohingya in Rakhine states, are barred from consideration as Myanmar citizens. This is a problem not faced even by ethnic minorities, such as the Kayin and Kachin, most thoroughly associated with antigovernment rebellion. MYANMAR: RELIGION, IDENTITY, AND CONFLICT IN A DEMOCRATIC ... 141

For now, agreeing on provisions for final peace treaties with the country’s many armed ethnic groups is a primary preoccupation. There are indications that good news will continue even though the much heralded October 2015 Nationwide Ceasefire Agreement only includes a fraction of the major antigovernment armed groups.22 In a context where ethnic categories are heavily contested and constitutional reform is a lightning rod for dissent, it is doubtful that final consensus about the distribution of power will be consolidated without further elections in the decades to come. Instead, entrenched patterns of fictionalization, deepened through warlordism, will continue to make Myanmar a difficult state to govern. For Muslim religious minorities, in particular, who are the targets of Buddhist chauvinism the chance of quick integration into a harmonious national identity are slim. Wise leadership and long-term education will be required to avoid the worst excesses observed when religiously diverse societies fail the test of peaceful coexistence (Glaeser 2005). In Myanmar social cohesion also has important gender dimensions. Society remains dominated, at least in the public presentation of power, by men, many of whom are still in military uniforms. While Aung San Suu Kyi is a notable exception, Myanmar has an inconsistent track record of including women in all of its political, economic, and cultural functions. In the Union Assembly, only 7% of members are women. The fact that the armed forces still control 25% of seats, almost all of whom are men, is one part of the explanation. Sexual violence in Myanmar’s war zones is well documented.23 Violence perpetrated against women in the context of brutal inter-ethnic conflict is ongoing24 and there are indications that sexual minorities, of which Myanmar has an intricate typology, are also vulnerable (Gilbert 2013). At the same time, the alleged ill treatment of Buddhist women by Muslim men is often used to justify anti-Muslim purges. In areas where internally displaced people or refugee populations are found there are reports that women and children are disproportionately vulnerable.25 Local and international organizations recognize the gender dimensions of Myanmar’s complicated cultural and political landscape, but are only at the very beginning stages of mainstreaming gender as a “cross-cutting” issue.

Relating Society and Economy in Myanmar For decades the government has simplified Myanmar’s complex ethnic configuration to support its interpretation of national inclusion. From this perspective, there are 135 “national races.” Among these different ethnic 142 N. FARRELLY and linguistic cohorts eight are usually highlighted: the Bamar, Mon, Kayin, Kayah, Shan, Kachin, Chin, and Rakhine. These Burmanized names also apply to the seven “ethnic” states (Smith 2005). The Bamar are the majority, comprising about 60% of the population, and claim both ethno-nationalist and indigenous status (Farrelly and Hossain 2014). Their language, Burmese, is taught in schools to peoples of all ethnic origins.26 Newspapers, magazines, and television are also predominately in this lingua franca.27 The expansion of Burmese language education and media has led many ethnic minorities to decry the “Burmanization” that has occurred since independence from Britain. This majority culture is also tied, intrinsically, to Theravada Buddhism and the Buddhist Sangha. The overwhelming majority of Bamar are Buddhists. Even though there is no established state religion, public events and official sites are marked by their Buddhist orientation.

THE MAJORITY AND MINORITIES Alongside the Bamar majority, Myanmar has 134 other official “national race” categories, all based on a particular understanding of the country’s indigenous population. These categories are a legacy of British ethnogra- phy and may not be a reasonable explanation of the country’s diversity (Sadan 2013). In 2014, there were incomplete and inconsistent efforts to clarify the role of these categories during the census, the first national assessment of identity in 30 years. There are significant populations who are not included in the national race categories, most notably the Rohingya and Chinese (locally called “Tayoke”). These non-national race groups have a problematic status in the national conversation. Many hold Myanmar citizenship, although, strictly speaking, they may only be eligible for Associate Citizenship, or for a category known as “Registered Foreigners.” The provision of national race status is complicated by a jumbled understanding of the country’s history and the waves of migration that have made Myanmar one of the world’s most challenging anthropological terrains. Some groups, such as the Wa and Kayin, have managed to carve out relatively autonomous territories through negotiation with the government or long-term armed struggle.28 Contention within and between ethnic categories is also widespread and has led to challenges for those who seek to claim particular ethnic statuses. The reality is that in many parts of Myanmar it is difficult to neatly demarcate even the eight major MYANMAR: RELIGION, IDENTITY, AND CONFLICT IN A DEMOCRATIC ... 143 ethnic cohorts, to say nothing of the distinctions that define membership in the micro-designations. Chin state, as an extreme example, is home to more than 50 groups that merit national race status (Sakhong 2002). The accuracy of the anthropological classification that underpins such status is open to dispute from within and outside particular communities. The general notion that the groups are “very much mixed up together,” as pronounced by Edmund Leach, a famous anthropologist of the twentieth century, is rarely given the attention that it deserves (Leach 1954, 2). Instead, ethnic classification has become hyper-politicized with any government activity. Social accounting, like the 2014 census, falls captive to competing priorities of different ethnic groups, most notably the Bamar. That they all share much in common, particularly where economic disenfranchisement is a day- to-day experience, is often overlooked. The only group in Myanmar that could be considered a dominant minority is the ethnic Chinese who are not classified as part of the national races. Their commercial success has marked them out in a system where high economic status does not usually confine itself to any one ethnic group (Toyota 2003).29 To weld these different groups together, central authorities have implemented an ideology of national unity, usually referred to as “union spirit.” All the national races of Myanmar are entitled to be part of this story and there are daily efforts by the central government to promote ethnic harmony and cooperation. This occurs at the regional level where each of the ethnic states is given special status and responsibilities. On their respective “State Days” there are strong efforts to showcase the cultural coherence of different minority groups.30 The pinnacle of these celebrations is Union Day, held on 12 February each year, which marks the occasion in 1947 when General Aung San signed the Panglong Agreement with representatives of the Shan, Kachin, and Chin elites. These groups pledged to remain part of the union for a decade. Much of the strife that followed is a consequence of ethnic groups’ unease about the lack of opportunities for self-determination and autonomy (Walton 2008). Currently, a National Races Channel is broadcast, drawing on the resources of the state-run television network.31 This service provides vernacular language news and entertainment in 12 of Myanmar’s minority languages. The direct construction of an over-arching Myanmar identity is a work in progress. Many minorities dispute the need for such heavy- handed efforts at national integration. Under these conditions, drivers of conflict are multi-faceted and prone to change over time. First, there are long-standing political and cultural 144 N. FARRELLY grievances that encourage ethnic minorities to dispute the central government’s authority in particular areas. The most important of these disputes are in the borderlands where large ethnic armies have mounted decades of resistance to governments based in Yangon and Naypyitaw. In most cases, opposition movements have been motivated by concerns about the defense of cultures that are under threat by “Burmanization.” The fundamental challenge for those seeking to present a more independent approach to language and culture is that their battles for self-determination have run for more than half a century. It was in the immediate aftermath of independence from Britain in 1948 that the first sizeable movements to support greater rights for ethnic minorities emerged. Second, there are those areas of Myanmar where economic inequality galvanized antigovernment resistance. For ethnic armies in resource-rich areas of Myanmar, there are long-standing resentments against the use of their areas for the benefit of the central authorities (Farrelly 2009). This is an especially problematic situation in the Kachin state. The Kachin Independence Army/Organization claims exclusive control of the lucrative jade mines at Hpakant.32 The ceasefire that held between 1994 and 2011 was built around efforts to share income from mining and logging concessions (Farrelly 2012b). In other parts of the country ethnic conflict has been justified by battles to control trade routes and border posts (Ball and Farrelly 2013). The opportunity to levy taxes on passing trade has been guarded jealously by all sides.33 There are also tensions over the appropriate distribution of land. Low-level disputes about access to agricultural resources, in fact, party explain conflict escalation between Rakhine Buddhists and Rohingya Muslims. Third, there are problems between different ethnic and religious group that share overlapping or adjacent territories. In the past there have been battles between neighboring ethnic groups, some of which have allied with the central government to access, extend, or protect territorial claims. During the 1990s and 2000s the United Wa State Army, for example, used its armed strength against the Shan State Army – south. Their efforts to support the government’s campaigns against the Shan were rewarded with access to land and economic opportunities, including in the regional narcotics business (Ball 2003).34 Other ethnic groups have come to blows, including the Rawang against the Jinghpaw-dominated Kachin Independence Army in far northern Myanmar.35 The most important of these inter-ethnic conflicts is in Rakhine state where the Rohingya and Rakhine have a long history of inter-ethnic strife (Parnini 2013). MYANMAR: RELIGION, IDENTITY, AND CONFLICT IN A DEMOCRATIC ... 145

Finally, identity-based differences, ampliﬁed under conditions of tension and misunderstanding, tend to create new problems in places where different religions have co-existed for decades, even centuries. In Myanmar today the Buddhist chauvinist movement can mobilize large numbers of monks and lay people against what is considered a relentless Muslim invasion. Efforts to ban mixed-faith marriages, and limit the economic and educational opportunities of some Muslims, are one outcome.36 Muslims have sought to quietly defend their status in Myanmar but such efforts have aggravated Buddhist hardliners who see no future for Muslims in the country. Violence was particularly bad in 2013 in some parts of the country, but especially in Meiktila, a town close to Mandalay, where Buddhist nationalists attacked the Muslim minority and where 4,000 people were displaced.37

RELIGION AND SOCIAL COHESION IN MYANMAR The most powerful religious organization in Myanmar is the Buddhist Sangha, supported by 80% of the population.38 With around 500,000 monks in robes, and another 75,000 nuns, monasteries were a significant moral, cultural, economic, and political force during the decades of military rule (Matthews 1993). The 2007 revolt by monks concerned about economic problems is one example of their potency. Known outside the country as the “Saffron Revolution,” it sparked speculation about a democratic overthrow of the military government. After a crackdown on the protesting monks, the government reasserted control but with much diminished moral standing and legitimacy (Selth 2008b). Senior monks command loyal followings from across the political spectrum. They often are asked for their input on policies that will be sensitive to religion. At the local level, especially in areas where educational and economic disadvantage go hand-in-hand, monks are among the most powerful interest groups. They can help to advance political careers and encourage village- level cooperation with government authorities. By the same token, they can prove to be disruptive influences where they perceive their judgment is ignored. To defend Buddhism, there are a number of loose organizations, including the Committee for the Protection of Race and Religion. It emerged from the less institutionalized 969 movement that, while it has no single organizational or hierarchical model, maintains its status as the shorthand for Buddhist nationalism. The 969 movement is made up of 146 N. FARRELLY millions of members and sympathizers, including those who perceive clear threats to Buddhism from the country’s Muslim population.39 They aim to limit the perceived encroachment of Muslims, and talk of Myanmar as confronted with existential threats to its social and cultural fabric. This suggestion that Myanmar is facing a Muslim invasion has taken hold in some sections of society. For the Bamar majority, but also for some Mon, Shan, and Rakhine groups, the defense of the nation and the defense of religion are completely entangled. With little government supervision of such groups there is now a space for radical anti-Muslim ideas to become socially acceptable. In Myanmar religious identities have official status. Alongside ethnic classification, religious affiliations are marked on national identity cards. The major religions are Theravada Buddhism, Islam (perhaps 10%), Christianity (4%), and the Chinese religions (2%), while there are much smaller congregations of Hindus and Sikhs. There are also a significant number of people who, regardless of other religious leanings, continue animist practices. The syncretic formulation of religious beliefs in Myanmar is an important aspect of social cohesion. In many cases there are obvious connections between ethnic and religious identity. Many Kayin, Chin, and Kachin, as examples, converted to Christianity during and immediately after British colonial rule (Andaya 2010). Among the leadership of the Karen National Union, the major non-state armed group in eastern Myanmar, there is almost unanimous adherence to the Christian faith. This contrasts with one of that region’s Border Guard Forces that draws its strength from a splinter group called the Democratic Karen Buddhist Army. Among the Kayin this fault line has led to conflict and population displacement. For the Kachin Independence Army, there is an even stronger connection between devout Christianity and ethnic subna- tionalism (Sadan 2007). In the memories of many older Kachin fighters the central government’s efforts to curb religious practices motivated them to take up arms in the first place. Elites, on all sides, have become adept at using ethnicity and religion to further their political goals. For antigovernment ethnic groups this has meant building political support among certain ethnic and linguistic cohorts (Farrelly 2013). Such efforts often exclude other local groups that are considered insufficiently revolutionary, or who may even be judged as collaborators with central government agendas. For Bamar political interests there are more careful efforts to bring minorities into the picture. Even during the decades of military dictatorship some ethnic MYANMAR: RELIGION, IDENTITY, AND CONFLICT IN A DEMOCRATIC ... 147 minorities found a voice in the rigid system. Since the reforms implemented under the 2008 constitution there have been more opportunities for multi-ethnic political parties to prosper. Some of these, such as the Union Solidarity and Development Party or the Unity and Democracy Party of Kachin State, are very explicit about their multi-ethnic memberships. For others, such as the NLD or the Rakhine Nationalities Development Party, there is some hesitation about the full integration of ethnic minority politicians. Under these conditions, the Myanmar state is closely tied to the official imagination of Bamar Buddhist primacy in a multi-ethnic and multi- religious union. Over many decades, government policies have reinforced these connections leading to deep resentment and grievances among religious and ethnic minorities. The interests of that Bamar majority have often been tied to the military and the small elite who have sought to safeguard their impression of national security, while ensuring the “non-disintegration” of the union. Profound anxiety about centrifugal forces fragmenting the national whole has helped justify so much of the draconian policy implemented by Myanmar’s army rulers. That the country is now moving in a positive direction, and has an opportunity for greater peace between ethnic and religious groups, gives some reason for optimism. Nonetheless, the political and cultural terrain remains marked by potential obstacles and pitfalls.

INEQUALITY AND IDENTITY CONFLICT The benefits of the economic system have flowed, most consistently, to those complicit in the former military dictatorship. A small echelon of commercial leaders, often referred to disparagingly as “cronies,” were among those who saw the greatest returns (Jones 2014). Military leaders themselves, and members of their families, were among those who reaped high rewards from economic development. While restrictions on government employment have changed over the years, there have been long- standing efforts to diminish the chances of ethnic minorities taking the most senior posts. In the armed forces this has been especially apparent where only Bamar, Mon, and Rakhine Buddhists have served in senior positions in recent history.40 Religious minorities face discrimination if they are seeking government employment, especially those from the com- bative Christian denominations associated with the Kayin and Kachin. They are put in a different category than, for example, some of the Chin 148 N. FARRELLY who can rise through the ranks of the bureaucracy. Private sector opportunities also are contested but there are still many people from minority ethnic and religious backgrounds who have succeeded in their efforts to develop a stronger economic profile. Since 2011, Myanmar’s economy changed rapidly, with a surge of foreign investment. Every sector is undergoing rapid transformation with some of the most significant advances made in the telecommunications, manufacturing, and services sectors. These sectors suffered under the military dictatorship. Western sanctions against the government, especially from the USA and UK, put a dent in the local economy. This was partially made up by investments from China, Singapore, and Thailand, although these suffered from a lackluster domestic economic climate. Until recently, there have been few people with adequate disposable income to justify confident investments in many areas of the economy. This follows an earlier transition from the planned, socialist economy that crumbled in 1988 (Fujita et al. 2009). It was replaced by a state-directed, market capitalist system where “the cronies” were positioned to enjoy the spoils. The recent enthusiasm for Myanmar’s more liberal approach to economic management is based on a number of important legal reforms, including to the Foreign Investment Law. Nonetheless, the Myanmar government struggles to adequately tax economic activities. This is partly explained by the shadow economy which thrived during the decades of military dictatorship and which persists today. It is this economy that helps bolster the economic position of people across the social spectrum, but especially at the very top. Many business networks, especially where they involve illicit activities, are founded upon ethnic solidarities. Illicit activities in Myanmar are devoted to the production of narcotics, especially heroin and amphetamines, and also to the smuggling of drugs, weapons, and people. Shan, Wa, and Chinese interests arrange some of the most important illegal activities (Meehan 2011). In some parts of the country these groups blur together and can become indistinguishable, especially where crime, business, and politics are one-and- the-same (Chin 2009). The position of the Shan state as a nexus for criminal activities along the borders with China, Laos, and Thailand helps to explain how this situation has developed over time. In a very different direction, some minority groups have received significant external support for their campaigns for greater rights in Myanmar. International donors enthusiastically bankrolled ethnic groups based along the Myanmar–Thailand border. There are more than two MYANMAR: RELIGION, IDENTITY, AND CONFLICT IN A DEMOCRATIC ... 149 million Myanmar citizens and former citizens in Thailand, which has become the most attractive destination for those fleeing economic hardship and conflict in Myanmar. Others fled to India and China, while there are also large Myanmar populations in Malaysia and Singapore. Among those who have been resettled outside the immediate neighborhood there are large Myanmar populations in the USA, Europe, and Australia. Many have become citizens of their new country. Some have sought to return to Myanmar during the recent period of political change.41 Their experiences contrast with those who have been stuck in marginal conditions along Myanmar’s borders and who are now hoping to return to their ancestral lands.

BEYOND THE BORDERS At the transnational level, conflict in Myanmar has generated a number of important dynamics. Waves of refugees have flowed across the borders, particularly toward Thailand and Bangladesh. Both countries still host documented and undocumented refugees. Within the country there are many internally displaced people. Internally Displaced Persons (IDPs) now concentrate in the Rakhine and Kachin states after recent waves of conflict. The movement of IDPs is a highly political issue, precisely because most of those who have moved have done so as the result of government policies over many decades.42 Among Myanmar’s diverse diaspora populations there have been different responses to the conflicts. Some have determined they will devote large amounts of time and their personal resources to supporting those who are affected. There are active advocacy campaigns throughout the world on behalf of Myanmar’s ethnic minorities. Some of these efforts are closely associated with antigovernment armed groups, while others seek to play less partisan roles. Some groups are well connected to powerful interests in their home society; this is especially the case in the UK and USA. In those countries activist groups have worked diligently to capture the attention of powerful political and religious interests that may be able to further support their agendas. Some have made persistent calls for sanctions to be implemented against the Myanmar government, even since the introduction of recent political reforms. Among these diverse diaspora groups, there are also those unwilling to accept that any positive changes in Myanmar have occurred. Many groups face major economic hardships in their new countries. 150 N. FARRELLY

In any case, there are clear reasons to think that the support various groups receive from abroad has helped to sustain them through many long and difficult years. Myanmar’s conflicts have not been sealed from the world. Transnational support and influences have played major roles in the shaping of these conflicts. At a local level, many parts of Myanmar function relatively well, with networks of community organizations playing important roles in the provision of public goods. For instance, in many Kayin and Kachin areas Christian churches help provide a social safety net that is not available otherwise. Christian groups sometimes have links to supporters outside the country who have, often over the very long term, sought to support local welfare and livelihoods. The same can be said of some Muslim and Buddhist groups, which play a major role in assisting the most vulnerable people in Myanmar society.

CONDITIONS FOR CONFLICT:INJUSTICE AMPLIFIED Perceived historical injustices shape all aspects of Myanmar’s ethnic and religious conflicts. For the government itself it is the colonial experience that is most problematic. During the years of British rule Bamar nationalists struggled to re-define their sense of political authority. With the collapse of the Burmese monarchy they were forced to accept a subordinate status, often deemed to be lower even than the ethnic minorities of the hills. Much of Myanmar’s nationalist history is a reaction to this experience. It has helped to generate waves of highly motivated resistance to perceived international meddling (Walton 2013). For ethnic minorities there are other senses of injustice, often formed by their experiences of interacting with the Bamar majority. For ethnic groups subjected to policies they deem “cultural genocide” it is difficult to muster sympathy for the Bamar. At the same time, different elite groups have the capacity and motivation to deploy the media to construct different ideas of the community, in its ethnic and religious configuration. These same outlets for promoting ideas of unity and diversity can be used to target those who are considered enemies. The image of the enemy in this context is heavily contested but usually leads to the demonization of a particular social group. Nowadays it is the Muslim minority that has most consistently taken on that unenviable position. Unfortunately, there has been much less social surveying conducted in Myanmar than in most other societies, and data are still restricted. This is a MYANMAR: RELIGION, IDENTITY, AND CONFLICT IN A DEMOCRATIC ... 151 legacy of the suspicion of the former military government. This has begun to change slowly as the government worked through the process of conducting its 2014 nationwide census. In general, however, there is a deficit of trust in Myanmar society that is shared across all economic, ethnic, and religious backgrounds. Decades of military dictatorship shifted social expectations in ways that have been difficult to reconcile with a more open and tolerant society. This has implications for any future government, especially if it seeks to implement new policies in areas that have experienced long-term conflict.

Histories of Antagonism The leaders of Myanmar, predominately drawn from the ranks of the defense forces, have long experience of the country’s inter-ethnic wars. Nonetheless, it would be unfair to judge that they perceive particular ethnic groups to be enemies. Instead, what they have created is a system where all groups can conceivably live in harmony, but where divergence from the expectations of the system is met with violence. The highest perception of noncooperation among ethnic groups is focused on those that have been most reluctant to agree to ceasefires. Historically, resistance concentrated in the Kayin, Kayah, and Shan antigovernment movements. In recent years, the Kachin have taken the most prominent position. The Kachin Independence Army’s war against the Myanmar government, which reignited in June 2011, saw thousands of people killed and more than 100,000 displaced. In May 2013, there was a tentative effort to agree a ceasefire, but many challenging issues remained for both sides to resolve. In the context of recurrent conflicts, state elites appeal to the mythical status of historical kings, viewed as role models for future governance. These royal exemplars are celebrated during the Defense Services parade ground in Zabuthiri, on the eastern edge of Naypyitaw. When a parade is held, giant statues look down on massed formations of modern Myanmar armed forces. The idea that now has much currency among leading figures in the government is that these kings defended Myanmar against foreign aggression and they now serve to remind the people of the great civilizations built in Myanmar. Protecting Myanmar society and culture against threats from abroad is a useful rallying cry, especially when there is perceived aggression from the historical enemy of Thailand. Ironically, the majority of Myanmar people who live outside the country have moved to Thailand during recent decades of political and economic 152 N. FARRELLY mismanagement (Farrelly 2012a). While parts of Thailand were historically part of Myanmar there is no firm push for their reclamation. Old maps of Myanmar in some government buildings in Naypyitaw do clarify the extent of previous kingdoms which stretched out across a much broader region of what is today Bangladesh, India, Laos, and Thailand.43 Presentations of historical grandeur are part of a long-standing effort to cultivate civic nationalism among Myanmar’s diverse ethnic groups. These stories, however, are dominated by the cultural norms of the Bamar majority, who continue to set the educational and cultural agenda. In performances of the national story it is common for ethnic minorities to take on token responsibilities while the determination of national destiny is interpreted as a Bamar affair. The majority, in this case, has sought to write Myanmar history to justify its continued leading role (Walton 2013). This disaffects minorities, especially when they perceive that the historical or contemporary contributions of their own group are downplayed. Balancing different notions of belonging requires an awareness of the jousting nationalisms that make up the national races. At one level, there is a constructive aspect to the constant invocation of ethnic affairs in the national political conversation. Those who are included in the 135 national race categorizations enjoy a sense of belonging that, at least officially, should give them access to a powerful story of unity in overwhelming diversity. The implementation of such narratives as policy has, however, served to delegitimize certain interests, especially where national race status is disputed. The contest to describe and interpret the history of the Rohingya suggests that where strong disagreements occur there are firm limits on goodwill, flexibility, and inclusion.

Responses to Ethnic Complexity In Myanmar ethnic groups have long histories of organizing and acting politically. There are a large number of ethnically backed political parties, including those that contested the 2010 and 2015 elections. In 2010, 10 of these parties had members elected to the Union Assembly. Their role in that legislature was mixed, but in almost all cases they sought to provide alternatives to the policies and priorities of the Union Solidarity and Development Party government. Some ethnic political parties emerged from the armed ethnic organizations that long fought against the central government. The relationship between these different elements is complicated by the insistence, on the government’s part, that in the long term MYANMAR: RELIGION, IDENTITY, AND CONFLICT IN A DEMOCRATIC ... 153 there will be a single armed force in the country that will answer to central government authorities. The Kachin Independence Army, the Karen National Liberation Army, the United Wa State Army, and the Shan State Army – south are the most prominent armed groups. In each case, they command an armed group in the thousands. The United Wa State Army built a reputation as the best funded of the non-state armed groups, with around 20,000 soldiers. It reportedly manufactures some of its own munitions and owns sophisticated military equipment, including helicopters. The long-standing allegation is that its coffers are filled by income from illegal businesses, particularly narcotics production and distribution. Among the other armed groups there are different approaches to the challenge of creating a viable political and economic footing while negotiating with the central authorities. For the Kachin Independence Army the past few years have been difficult. In June 2011, when its 17-year ceasefire with the Myanmar government collapsed a new war ignited (Farrelly 2012b). In this conflict the Kachin were forced to defend fixed bases along the Sino–Myanmar border while also mounting audacious raids deep into government-controlled territory. This situation led to the displacement of more than 100,000 people, and upset the overall security situation in Northern Myanmar. Earlier, many of Myanmar’s ethnic groups held secessionist views and sought to develop political momentum for splitting the country’s union. However, with the end of the Cold War, international support for subnational movements became less consistent and there was a move to moderate ethnic demands. The idea of greater regional autonomy within a federal union is now the most popular approach taken by leading figures among the disparate ethnic leaderships. Nonetheless, there remain some groups and individuals who call for more radical solutions to the country’s perpetual ethnic conflicts. Even though the government fears the prospect of “balkanization” (Blaxland 2011), there has been some support for ethnic federalism among leading figures in groups who see no future in a country ruled by the Bamar majority based in Naypyitaw. For now, with reforms to political and economic management introduced under the 2008 constitution, there are many ways for minority groups to voice grievances, even if some still doubt ethnic concerns are taken seriously. Through the media, the legislatures and calls on potentially persuasive international elements, those who feel they are missing 154 N. FARRELLY out under Myanmar’s current political arrangements have a number of channels through which they can direct criticism. This is a stark change from the decades of military dictatorship when there were fewer open channels for communication with the government. Today the President’s spokesman, as one example, is an active participant in Facebook discussions.44 There are now countless newspapers and journals that solicit material from the public-at-large, including The New Light of Myanmar, which was the state mouthpiece during the dictatorial period. Many politicians, at both the local and union levels, advocate on behalf of their constituents, or to take up issues of national significance. Under these circumstances, while brute force and selective control are still available options, the central government is working to balance its priorities with those of ethnic minorities. The transformation of Myanmar society is founded in the idea that a peaceful resolution to long-standing conflicts is possible and that the national races share a joint responsibility for building a prosperous union. The rhetoric of unity as espoused by the government is supported by threats, explicit and implied. The threat to withdraw all Myanmar military support to the nascent democratic experi- ment is arguably the most potent, particularly when many ethnic minority leaders are becoming comfortable with the opportunities that Myanmar’s changes will present for them and their people. Avoiding such conflict is the precondition for building better relationships across prevailing political divides.

Creating Myanmar Anew The creation of new state institutions in Myanmar has challenged some of the preconceptions about how they should work. Constitutionally, at least, they are defined by a set of accommodations between the Bamar majority and the various ethnic minorities. The extent to which different minority perspectives are excluded is partly a factor of the politics that prevailed in the years that the 2008 constitution was being negotiated. Ethnic groups that were deemed friendly to the overall reform agenda implemented by the military government tended to improve their chances of receiving recognition and concessions. For instance, accommodations were offered to particular groups, like the Naga and Lahu, who received constitutionally ordained autonomous zones. Similar concessions were not available to groups considered more threatening, like the Kachin and Kayin. In this respect, accommodations established during Myanmar’s MYANMAR: RELIGION, IDENTITY, AND CONFLICT IN A DEMOCRATIC ... 155 political transition are inconsistent, and thus ensure ethnicity remains a salient feature of political organization. This undermines some of the cohesion that is otherwise implied by the current constitutional arrangements. It is a consociational system where the reimagination of state power has been determined by the recognition of ethnic diversity. That there are too many languages and ethnic cohorts to recognize each of them equally is one of the discrepancies of this system. Yet that is not the fundamental reason that Myanmar society fails to offer equal opportunities to its diverse peoples. For now, the long history of military dictatorship is still the primary driver of disparity and exclusion in Myanmar society. Recovering from a long period of significant social trauma where the military disrupted countless lives will likely take many more years. There are those who benefit from that history and can still claim the power to veto further changes. These include the senior leadership of the Defense Services, but also other figures from the former military dictatorship. Speculation about the ongoing role of former Senior General Than Shwe is part of this conversation about those who can influence the future direction of Myanmar’s politics.45 There are no equivalently influential figures drawn from the ranks of ethnic or religious minorities. Given the history, there are still some among the ethnic groups that have a strong position with respect to national political issues. The best- organized are those, like the Rakhine and Mon, who benefit from the fact that internal divisions are currently considered less important. They are also generally more readily aligned on cultural and religious grounds with the Bamar majority. Such dynamics are often ignored in the analysis of Myanmar’s ethnic challenges because it can be simpler to imply that the majority–minority binary is the most important. Yet the lowland population centers dominated by the Rakhine and Mon, and their histories as great regional civilizations mean that while they may compete for local primacy with Bamar they in fact share much in common. Common ground of the type that is useful in political organization can be harder to find with some other groups. As a result, efforts to exert influence on the policy-making process are uneven. In certain circumstances it appears that some individuals or groups from among the wide range of ethnic cohorts have enjoyed some success. For example, actors from the Pyidaungsu Hluttaw in Naypyitaw from 2011 to 2015 developed reputations for their ability to build coalitions within the evolving legislative culture and proved instrumental in the 156 N. FARRELLY management of new political challenges. Pa-O leader from Shan state, Nay Win Tun, and Kachin state’s Hket Htein Nan played key roles. The extent to which any of their roles are ethnically defined, however, is unclear. Based on some observation of these activities, personal networks and perceived capabilities are primary criteria for determining who will play roles of this kind in the national political conversation. Seeking guidance from ethnic minority group leaders is a component of the long history of managing conflict in Myanmar. As senior figures often lament, the effort to manage Myanmar’s many ethnic and religious conflicts is a heavy burden. Under President Thein Sein there were more consistent efforts to settle conflicts, although most of those are yet to succeed. As a result, the country is a patchwork of formal peace agreements and other informal truces, with some areas still seeing sporadic violent incidents. Strategies for managing this unruly set of local political and strategic situations have, in some cases, further entrenched social divisions. Where favoritism is perceived, the government’s activities can exacerbate dynamics that were driving conflicts in the first place. Peacemaking initiatives led by the government of Thein Sein showed that there are many sensitive cross-cutting dynamics to manage in order to minimize conflict vulnerability. In the Myanmar case, this is a fraught process that requires different political actors to work together in unconventional ways. In particular, there is a powerful incentive for ethnic groups to join forces in efforts to build stronger, collective negotiating positions. The government has often worked to undermine such collective strength, especially where it is perceived that the ethnic groups are not as unified as they pretend. The extent to which multi-ethnic political organizations will emerge matters in Myanmar precisely because there are very few political interests that are shared by all ethnic groups. Very few ethnic parties are able to develop multi-ethnic platforms although the major groups have used the United Nationalities Federal Council as vehicle for discussions with the government in 2014 and 2015. In this context, the negotiation of federalist reforms remains problematic, especially for those in the central government who fear the fragmentation of the union they have helped to build. The form of union that is defended must be seen as the enmesh- ment of different national race groupings to build one system that can be supported by all sides. Within the last few years more space for different kinds of engagements with the central government and its institutions MYANMAR: RELIGION, IDENTITY, AND CONFLICT IN A DEMOCRATIC ... 157 have emerged. In particular, the idea that parallel, non-parliamentary system for negotiation and decision-making might be useful and has started to take hold.

Elite Responses to Change In a general sense, the Bamar majority has the apparatus of the state at their disposal. This condition will hold as long as the military and its backers continue supporting the status quo. The new political institutions prescribed by the 2008 constitution have been embraced by political elites. While there was hesitation to begin, the idea that the Naypyitaw system will provide a robust foundation for future political development is now taken for granted. Among the ethnic groups relevant to peace negotiations there are those that are not fully committed to the process as it is currently designed. They may feel threatened by the prospect of a political system that will draw them into a prolonged negotiation with the government where the ultimate aim is their disar- mament and demobilization, rather than the fulfillment of their long- held hopes for higher status and great political independence. Corruption remains a significant problem in Myanmar, and social divisions are increasingly important for the mobilization of predatory behaviors. The immaturity of electoral democracy means that overall the country has a weak set of institutions vulnerable to the dominance of elite groups, from many different ethnic backgrounds. Talk of hardline and moderate factions within the government headed by President Thein Sein has been a strong characteristic since it first came to power in 2011. It reemerged in 2015 when the speaker of the Pyidaungsu Hluttaw, Shwe Mann, was banished from his Union Solidarity and Development Party positions.46 The old military elite were analyzed on similar principles, including during the period when General Khin Nyunt headed a powerful military intelligence faction. Until it was purged in 2003 there was some agreement among analysts it represented a bolder, more progressive, and more internationalist approach to managing the country. At the same time, the exact configuration of ideology and mentality in the senior ranks of the armed forces, and even in Thein Sein’s government, has proved difficult to summarize. Those groups that are more likely to be considered hardline are often simply those that have made fewer efforts to engage the international community. 158 N. FARRELLY

The limited extent to which state institutions accommodate ethnic minorities is a product of the distrust between different groups and their disparate access to educational advancement. In a context where political struggles are emotive and the prospect of future violent conflict lingers, the arrangement of political power is highly contentious. The relatively small number of ethnic and religious minorities who take on positions of authority with state institutions exemplifies their lack of inclusion in the overall political system. The Myanmar state is strong enough, in any case, to draw the required support from the Bamar majority. While many people, even those who work in government positions, come to resent the authoritarianism and majoritarianism over state institutions, it has been a reliable vehicle for individual ambitions. During the years of military rule talented Bamar men and women had few good choices. They could leave Myanmar, as many did, or they could stay in the country hoping to secure gainful employment and upward mobility. The chances of career progression in official service were appealing to those who could learn to live with the inade- quacies of the system. Their work in different parts of the military and bureaucracy kept the Myanmar system intact during periods of insecurity. While the state still struggles to reconcile the most egregious violations of this period, the individuals that were involved have transferred their experience and aptitude to the development of Myanmar’s tentative democracy. That the same people are involved, usually drawn from the Bamar middle class, is a testament to the flexibility of state institutions when the political climate changes. For these reasons, the state is not neutral, especially when it has such a partisan record in responding to ethnic conflicts. Those who do not belong to the Bamar majority assert that the state promotes the majority’s interests to the detriment of those from other national race groups. When it comes to the Rohingya, the state has worked to undermine their claims to inclusion. In this sense it ensures that a strict separation is maintained between national races and the Rohingya. This is politically expedient. Most Myanmar citizens appear uncomfortable, for now, with the prospect of embracing the Rohingya as fellow citizens. This situation is even more complicated in the case of the Chinese. Many of have self-assimilated and are now indistinguishable from many other groups in urban Myanmar. The extent to which the state and its proxies have any control over that process is doubtful. However, the state continues to define belonging on the narrow basis of national race classification and works to ensure that the MYANMAR: RELIGION, IDENTITY, AND CONFLICT IN A DEMOCRATIC ... 159 key boundary is between those who are eligible for Myanmar citizenship and those who are not. In this sense the Bamar majority catalyzes what the government presents as a civilizational mission, harnessing the combined energies of all the national races.

The Upper Hand Myanmar is now a Presidential, constitutional republic, with a legislature elected to support the law making of a strong executive. This system has evolved from what was a series of military dictatorships that ruled the country from 1962. The first phase of military government was explicitly socialist in orientation. That ended in 1988 when a self-coup saw a new faction of senior military officers take control. They implemented a system that retained the most draconian elements of the former regime, while embracing market economics and what would become an entrenched crony-dominated system. It was not until the long anticipated 2010 general election that the military finally guided a transition to the presidential system where partly elected legislatures, 16 in total, hold significant power. As described above, 25% of the members of those legislative bodies are military appointees. They wear military uniforms on sitting days and are the constitutionally prescribed “handbrakes” on radical changes to the 2008 constitution. Adequately characterizing the current system of government is difficult because the military continues to influence many of the key decisions in Naypyitaw even though its official role has been reduced. At any level, political competition has only become meaningful during recent years. The political system is relatively inclusive and people in most areas of the country have been able to exercise their electoral franchise.47 The exceptions to this pattern are in ethnic minority areas where conflict between the government and antigovernment forces continues. In such areas, the lack of voting opportunities only exacerbates local grievances. For the Rohingya the situation is more complicated. Many Rohingya voted in the 2010 general election, allegedly using identity documents provided by elements aligned to the military government, but they were excluded systematically from the electoral roll in 2015.48 The management of the Rohingya as a political consideration means that further manipulation of their status cannot be ruled out. In this rapidly changing context, while there is not a long history of inclusive political participation, there is a growing awareness that participation will not pose an unreasonable threat to the transitional system. 160 N. FARRELLY

Media organizations that were previously allowed only to operate in exile, and often in secret, have been recently welcomed back to Myanmar. They continue to attack the government and its policies, but do so from the advantageous positions they now enjoy inside the country. There are still, however, those who struggle to ﬁnd support for their approach to confrontation with the government. In the past year some journalists and activists have been prosecuted for their work, although such cases are much less frequent than they were under military rule.

Policy and Legal Matters The Myanmar government still has an uneven capacity to deliver services, especially in areas affected by ethnic and religious conflict. Some parts of the country, most notably in border areas, are off-limits to government personnel, even if they travel with a military escort. Then there are parts of the country where different ethnic interests seek to deliver services to local populations, sometimes in direct competition to the local and central governments. It is this complexity that has often made it difficult for international organizations to determine where the greatest needs are. The haphazard implementation of government policies also further complicates the story. To maintain social cohesion, and also to minimize the prospects of exacerbating local resentments, it is clear that the overall picture of service delivery needs greater attention. In 2015, a law against inter-faith marriage was passed that could, in theory, criminalize certain interactions between religious groups. This law suggests that Buddhist women will be precluded from marrying Muslim men, and that Muslims would need to convert to Buddhism before such marriages would be approved. There has been much consternation about the role of these proposed restrictions in contemporary Myanmar. They will serve to undermine some of the confidence of the population at a time when communal harmony is fragile. Among nationalist Buddhist elements, there is great anxiety about the perceived incursions that Muslims have made. Some of those anxieties are focused, simply, on the perception that there are a growing number of Muslims in the country. In other cases, there are more personal reasons, including economic grievances and religious prejudices, which are leading to the entrenchment of cleavages. These blur the boundaries between ethnic and racial concerns, especially where Muslims are perceived to be foreigners, identified by their darker skin and alien cultural practices. MYANMAR: RELIGION, IDENTITY, AND CONFLICT IN A DEMOCRATIC ... 161

Perhaps the most significant division between the Bamar majority and ethnic and religious minority populations is the level of recruitment to the military. The preeminent role of the armed forces during Myanmar’s recent history makes the lack of non-Bamar personnel an issue of significant concern for the long-term acceptance of state security organizations. Histories of abusive interactions with ethnic minorities are problematic in a context where the representativeness of the military has long been criticized. The police, a paramilitary force under the overall control of former military officers, struggles for respect, especially in those parts of the country where the local population is reluctant to trust any uniformed government personnel. Recruitment for the security sector that better reflects the ethnic and religious composition of the country will require attitude changes from both the government and the population-at-large. For now, there are major challenges of perception that undermine the confidence that many of Myanmar’s people have in those who are supposed to keep them safe.

International Intentions: Starting from Scratch The extent of international engagement through development cooperation increased signiﬁcantly after the government of President Thein Sein came to power in 2011. This has been characterized by a major effort to enmesh international organizations in Myanmar’s transformation and help nudge these efforts in positive directions. Until Cyclone Nargis struck the country in May 2008, there had been a long-term trend of limited international engagement, especially with respect to development cooperation. Major Western donors were banned from having close ties to the government and it was impossible to maintain heavy involvement. What development assistance Western countries offered tended to ﬁlter through border areas, especially those adjacent to Thailand. Japanese and Korean governments had other approaches, but they were constrained by the pariah status of the Myanmar regime. After the government of Thein Sein took power, international agencies and donors sought to cooperate with the Myanmar side. Major international donor organizations are now well entrenched in Naypyitaw, including in some of the key elements of the bureaucracy where international staff have been seconded. Their role in this system has proved conducive to expanding the degree of autonomy that they have for directing development assistance. 162 N. FARRELLY

In all areas, the international presence in Myanmar is expanding rapidly. A simple way to illustrate the dynamics is through the Yangon real estate market. Hotels rates and apartment rental prices have more than tripled in the past four years. Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) is now a key player, especially since Cyclone Nargis. Countries like Singapore, Thailand, Malaysia, and Indonesia have allied themselves with the reformist elements in Myanmar. In each case, their own experience of domestic political challenges tends to encourage sympathy for the internal pressures facing Myanmar. The management of complex, multi-ethnic societies with legacies of authoritarianism is an experience shared across the major countries of the Southeast Asian region. ASEAN centrality, as it is often phrase in regional discussions, suits Myanmar’s purposes as it seeks to create a more respectable international image. With that emerging image, there is now a complex terrain of international intervention. Partners engaged in peacebuilding and development activities include the current government, democratic parties, ethnic parties, armed groups, civil society, universities, and the media. The Myanmar Peace Centre is especially relevant in this context. It has received significant funding from the United Nations (UN), the EU, and Japan to support broad-based peace negotiations between the government and ethnic armed groups. There have also been international efforts to generate inter-faith dialogue, especially along the violent cleavage between Muslims and Buddhists. Many citizens are critical of this work. In general, is judged as politically motivated. Myanmar’s own people voice discomfort with the influence of Muslim or democratic countries perceived to be meddling in Myanmar’s internal affairs. Protests against the Organization of Islamic Cooperation, for example, have punctuated campaigns led by monks in support of their vision for a Buddhist-dominated Myanmar society. Myanmar’s location between India and China means that it is part of major geopolitical renegotiations that will prove to be integral to changes that occur in the twenty-first century. Those countries are joined by the USA in an evolving competition for priority in Myanmar’s development. Other countries with major stakes in Myanmar’s transformation include Thailand, Singapore, Indonesia, Japan, and Australia. Their respective investments in the economy, but also in wide-ranging diplomatic efforts, and to bolster military ties, are all making Myanmar a contested place for diplomacy. There is widespread acknowledgement that aspects of the MYANMAR: RELIGION, IDENTITY, AND CONFLICT IN A DEMOCRATIC ... 163 changes underway in Myanmar are motivated by the need to reorder its international relations. During the most recent phase of military rule, Myanmar developed cozy ties to China.

ASEAN and Myanmar As a member of the ASEAN, Myanmar benefits from a range of institutional protections, especially the regional block’s hesitation against external meddling in domestic affairs. This means that the government of Myanmar, like those of its ASEAN neighbors, has relative impunity for its management of domestic politics. During the years of political contest that followed the crackdown on pro-democracy protestors in 1988, Myanmar was judged too contentious to be invited to join ASEAN. That changed, however, in 1997 when ASEAN sought to encompass all parts of the Southeast Asian region. This was a controversial move at the time, considered premature by many critical observers. During its early years as a member of ASEAN the Myanmar elite were socialized to the mild norms of its idiosyncratic regional diplomacy. Pressure on Myanmar was subtle and designed, in most cases, to ensure the maintenance of regional solidarity. The doctrine of non-interference in domestic political affairs, one of the foundational principles of ASEAN interaction, offered significant comfort to the Myanmar leadership. As the country has moved toward a more inclusive and liberal political system ASEAN leaders have sought to take some of the credit. Since the recent reforms, international actors in Myanmar have generated impressive awareness of the political and security dimensions relevant to historical and ongoing conflicts. In the Myanmar context these have remained low key, with no major stabilization or post-conflict reconstruction efforts yet to materialize. Across the gamut of UN activities there are, however, many complementary efforts to monitor conflict situations, provide advice and technical assistance to Myanmar political leaders, and support peace building and conflict resolution activities with the expectation that further development assistance will follow. Their work is supported by a plethora of nongovernmental organizations (NGOs), many of which are focused on immediate humanitarian concerns. Previously much of that work was restricted to border areas, especially those directly adjacent to Thailand where access has tended to be simplest. The experience of different organizations working over many decades along the border means there is a long-standing international engagement with 164 N. FARRELLY

Myanmar’s conflicts. There has not, however, been a coercive international presence, with no official deployments of foreign security personnel since the Second World War. Notwithstanding the positive trajectory currently enjoyed by those seeking to manage Myanmar’s conflicts, it has been difficult for international organizations to calibrate their involvement with conflict in Myanmar because, until very recently, the government directly resisted international assistance. A new level of openness, while widely welcomed, does not imply there are simple operating environments for those who seek to influence the country’s political development. Where international interventions have been able to work alongside local efforts to build more peaceful environments for inter-ethnic interaction there are clear advantages. Mediation and external diplomatic intervention have played a role in helping to reshape Myanmar’s conversations about ethnic and religious conflict. Many countries and organizations have sought to play constructive roles. For example, in the case of the conflict between Muslim Rohingya and Buddhist Rakhine in western Myanmar, it is clear that international organizations face a number of major obstacles. In that case, groups that are judged to have worked too closely with Muslim political interests find themselves the target of vitriol locally, with the ever-present threat that the central government will withdraw support. In response to contention over violence in Rakhine state, some foreign organizations, including those providing frontline medical care to displaced populations, were forced to leave in early 2014. The central government’s reluctance to support their operations was the catalyst for their withdrawal. Later in 2014, some humanitarian groups were able to recommence their work in Rakhine state but now with much reduced confidence about their long-term status and more intensive monitoring of activities. In areas where health and other services are inadequate, especially with respect to the needs of displaced populations, the impact on quality of life is significant. When major international medical providers were forced to leave Rakhine state there were holes in the provision of urgent assistance, especially to Rohingya populations that have been forced to take refuge in the internally displaced settlements that have sprung up since 2012. More generally, external actors have supported the process of political change underway in Myanmar at every stage. They have sought to foster confidence among different ethnic communities while also helping fund the conditions that have made elections and a level of power sharing MYANMAR: RELIGION, IDENTITY, AND CONFLICT IN A DEMOCRATIC ... 165 possible. The 2014 census, while controversial at the time, was a major international effort to better understand Myanmar’s social and economic conditions, including the status of different ethnic and religious groups. That it did not adequately count the Rohingya population is a clear failure but in other parts of the country there are expectations that it will provide a much better baseline of data than currently exists. International actors have also worked to help foster the appropriate environment for negotiations between ethnic groups and the government.

Supporting Transition in a Deeply Divided Myanmar The international community has worked to create incentives for the Myanmar government to support the overall peacebuilding effort. This has a number of different aspects. First, the link between resolving ethnic conflicts and receiving donor assistance has been made clear. However, one challenge is that during the period when these inducements were offered, new conflicts emerged in Kachin state and Rakhine state. Second, the government has been presented with the chance to rehabilitate the international image of its armed forces. There are new opportunities for military-to-military links, including with the armed forces from the Western democracies that long opposed the Myanmar military dictatorship. This has other advantages for capacity development, especially because Myanmar has enjoyed few chances to work together with the world’s most sophisticated, technologically advanced military forces. Third, some members of the international community have used the prospect of further foreign investment as a way of helping to encourage the government to take the peace processes more seriously. This is complicated by the different international attitudes to the fault line between Muslims and Buddhists. Increasingly, foreign development assistance is directed toward those areas of the country where conflict has proved most protracted. Efforts to support economic development in Kayin state, as an example, require heavy investments in transport and communications infrastructure. There are emerging programs to offer the assistance that the central government, local governments and local communities are seeking as they work to harvest “peace dividends.” The Myanmar government appears comfortable, at this stage, with such international involvement due to the fact that it has yet to undermine the credibility of their specific commitments to the peace process. Managing the variety of interests that 166 N. FARRELLY have emerged to resolve Myanmar’s ethnic conflicts may have actually well-positioned the government to work collaboratively in contexts where conflict has been the historical standard.

Donor Investments in Conflict Management In Myanmar international donors still have a good reputation. They are welcomed for their resources and expertise, with the Myanmar side keen to embrace the possibilities of better technology, more professional administrative practices and cutting-edge conceptualizations of how a successful, inclusive society can be organized. Certainly, there are those who are skeptical of the role that foreigners play. Myanmar’s history of colonization sometimes proves an obstacle to easy interaction. In conflict environments most non-governmental organizations are allied, in their rhetoric and in practice, with groups judged particularly vulnerable. Advocacy on behalf of the victims of human rights abuses has a long and admirable history in the Myanmar context. There are inevitably those, especially in the Myanmar government, that feel advocacy has been unfair on the Bamar-dominated parts of Myanmar society who are blamed as aggressors. The complicated and entangled stories of attack and counter- attack ensure that it is rarely that simple. With better access to Myanmar government perspectives the best conflict analysis now accounts for a diversity of views. Since the change of Myanmar’s government in 2011, there have been increased opportunities for NGOs to play an active role in helping to manage conflicts. A number of donor-funded initiatives have followed. The Myanmar Peace Centre stewards negotiations between the central government and ethnic armies, but it is one of many adjacent efforts to work closely with all sides in the interests of building a more peaceful future. The Centre for Humanitarian Dialogue, a leading peacebroker in the Southeast Asian region, is, for instance, heavily involved. Other groups are active in monitoring work and there have been efforts to pioneer more rigorous methodologies for threat assessment in the complex Myanmar case. Assessing conflict vulnerability has been a major part of these developments. In this context, the resources available to NGOs vary widely. There are those that are well resourced and able to operate effectively, even in ambiguous and challenging conditions. The funding of different entities that work in conflict-affected areas is not entirely transparent and in recent MYANMAR: RELIGION, IDENTITY, AND CONFLICT IN A DEMOCRATIC ... 167 there have been some significant changes. Some groups, such as Cynthia’s Mae Tao Clinic in Mae Sot, along the Myanmar–Thailand border, have seen funding prioritized in other directions. This has led to some angst about the direction donors are taking in a context where the outcomes of ethnic and religious conflict remain unclear. Nonetheless, it has become easier to undertake humanitarian and political work inside Myanmar. Border-focused activities, therefore, have been de-emphasized. For now the main priorities for peacebuilding organizations are working with groups like the Kachin, Rakhine, and Rohingya who have been involved in recent conflicts with large numbers of people forced from their homes. External actors will be preoccupied with Myanmar for many years to come. They will work to build a new social contract, one that should bolster the chances of inter-ethnic and inter-religious coexistence. Ethnic minorities remain fearful about the prospect of international support being withdrawn but that appears unlikely under current conditions. Instead, the challenge for international actors is to generate goodwill and confidence among majority populations, especially politically moderate Buddhists, who will serve as the most important defense against rising anti-Muslim sentiments. This may prove harder than it looks at first glance because of the reluctance of Buddhists to oppose leading monks. There may need to be a reinterpretation of some Buddhist doctrine to support the harmonious society that Myanmar could become.

Tentative Democratization and Social Strife Myanmar’s social cohesion is being tested in new ways by the unfolding political and economic transformation unleashed by the government of President Thein Sein. For now, it is clear that the number of challenges emanating from the transition from entrenched authoritarian rule will be difficult for even the most capable government to manage. The profound capacity constraints exacerbate political, managerial and ethical problems confronting those working to deliver a more peaceful future for the country’s people. A broad network of actors is seeking to bring long- standing ethnic conflicts to an end, a process that has been central to President Thein Sein’s agenda. Yet, nothing is simple in a situation where new conflicts have emerged at the same time as others have diminished. The reignited war in Kachin areas that raged from 2011 to 2013 is one key example. The other is the ongoing tension between Muslim and Buddhist communities, most acutely in Rakhine state. In a country where a 168 N. FARRELLY fundamental principle for political management has remained the “non- disintegration of the union” the overall picture is uncertain and requires ongoing attention. In this context, and with ongoing violence against vulnerable minorities, inter-communal confidence remains fragile. With the resources that have been devoted to Myanmar in recent times there are important lessons that will be relevant in other context. From this perspective, four lessons of Myanmar’s complex and incomplete transition will be especially relevant to policy-makers and others interested in improving conditions for long- term social cohesion in Myanmar. First, in Myanmar a tentative democratization has led to new social strife, especially of a religious nature. Buddhist extremists have taken to targeting Muslims. Some radical anti-Muslim agendas have proliferated in online forums, especially on Facebook. As a result, communal distrust is high, with anxieties among minorities, especially Muslims, continuing to rise. This would not have been permitted under the military dictatorship where any semblance of potentially destabilizing activity was quickly discouraged. The freedoms that are so welcomed by Myanmar’s people and the international community have been used to undermine some of the progress that could be made. Democratization processes create opportunities for new social fissures to emerge that peacebuilders must work to adapt to and manage. Second, in this context, compromises between ethnic and religious groups are clearly required, yet they prove elusive. The deliberate efforts to exclude the Rohingya from institutionalized political discussions undermine their chances of ever playing a significant role in Myanmar’s politics. With no adequate representation in the country’s emerging legislative system, especially at the local level in Rakhine state, the Rohingya are being forced to look elsewhere for political support. Their destitution and lack of options continues to encourage those who can to seek futures outside Myanmar. In 2015, they are the major minority group that is still seeking sanctuary in foreign lands. More generally it is clear that on the government side many of the old negotiating positions are softening slowly. Third, contradictory trends introduce profound ambiguities and complexity. There is clearly no single or simple story of social cohesion. Across the country there are different conflict trends causing fragmentation and inter-group fear. Taken together there has been far less conflict during the transition than many observers expected. Nonetheless, improvements to MYANMAR: RELIGION, IDENTITY, AND CONFLICT IN A DEMOCRATIC ... 169

Myanmar’s overall political and economic situation are matched by regres- sive incidents, with new hotspots for conflict. There is clearly more participation in politics for some, but not all, of Myanmar’s peoples. With the partial Nationwide Ceasefire Agreement there is also some peace, some war, and something in between. This complex conflict environment requires more subtle calibration of policy, and a high degree of flexibility to account for diversity of local conflict contexts that are in play. There is no single solution to the challenges facing Myanmar at this pivotal time in the country’s history. Fourth, that the future offers cause for optimism does not mean that the major issues are resolved. In Myanmar today there is the risk of further and significant violence along a number of different ethnic and religious divides. Some political groups continue to feel alienated from the national political process, and they will seek further concessions from the government before agreeing to the demands of the 2008 constitution. There is also a risk of instability at the elite level, perhaps with another coup, or with some other effort to reassert military control. In a context of widespread violence, especially targeting Muslims, there is no guarantee that Myanmar can heal itself. The challenge is to moderate or even eliminate the hatred and fear felt by multiple dueling social groups. With wise leadership and the articulation of a culturally astute vision, Myanmar could become a beacon of religious and ethnic inclusion. It has the capacity to draw on histories of coexistence and plurality in its languages, cultures and religions. In theory, the goal of a peaceful multi- ethnic and multi-religious society can be achieved by making some relatively small changes to the national story of “union spirit.” By gradually including Rohingya and Chinese among the country’s “national races,” and by accepting the need for a more fluid style of multiculturalism, Myanmar would set an example far beyond its own borders. For now, such an inclusive vision is a distant mirage. Such relationships might also lead to a new phase cooperation that will benefit international actors. Myanmar’s leaders remain cautious about too much foreign intervention in fundamentally domestic issues. The history of British colonial meddling, to say nothing of Japanese and Chinese invasions, and foreign support for ethnic secessionist movements, needs to be carefully considered. Coordinating competing foreign interests will be a persistent challenge, but if Myanmar is to resolve its internal fractures then many years of consistent effort and external support will be required. The sustainability of Myanmar’s transformation to a more democratic 170 N. FARRELLY system of government will only be possible where capacity is built at every level, and across prevailing ethnic divides. Work cooperatively with different factions in Myanmar will be a profound test of the concepts of peace building and social cohesion. Yet given Myanmar’s history of bloodshed and trauma, working to build a society that is cohesive, or, at least, harmonious, is a goal worth pursuing.

NOTES 1. Until 1989 the country’sofﬁcial name was Burma. The State Law and Order Restoration Council opted to change the English-language name to Myanmar during a wide-ranging effort to reclaim what they deemed to be the nation’s pride. Other nomenclature was changed during this time, including the English-language spellings of many places including Yangon (formerly Rangoon) and the Ayeyarwady River (previously spelled as Irrawaddy River). 2. See, Kyaw (2007), Wintle, Justin (2007), and Bengtsson (2012). 3. Udai Bhanu Singh, “Do the Changes in Myanmar Signify a Real Transition? A Response to the Debate,” Strategic Analysis 37, no. 1 (2013): 115–18. 4. Ban Ki-moon, “Secretary-General’s Remarks at Meeting of Partnership Group on Myanmar” (New York: United Nations, April 25, 2014). 5. There are still relatively little robust economic data on Myanmar. The World Bank and Asian Development Bank, both of which maintain large databases of current and historical data have scant materials for Myanmar. The current estimates for Myanmar’s GDP per capita hover around $1,300, although this still appears to be only an approximation, partly because there is uncertainty about the country’s precise population. 6. World Bank, Power to People: World Bank Group to Invest US $2 Billion in Myanmar to Support Reforms, Reduce Poverty, Increase Energy and Health Access (Washington, DC: World Bank, January 26, 2014). 7. OECD, OECD Investment Policy Reviews: Myanmar 2014 (Paris: Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development, 2014). 8. Reuters, “Obama Extends Some Sanctions against Myanmar Despite Reforms,” Reuters, May 15, 2014. 9. Tim McLaughlin, “A Cola War Brews in Myanmar,” The Myanmar Times, September 24, 2012. 10. David Scott Mathieson, “It’s Time for Burma’s President to Act,” Foreign Policy, May 7, 2013. Available from: http://www.foreignpolicy.com/arti cles/2013/05/07/it_s_time_for_burma_s_president_to_act 11. Private conversations with senior members of the current Myanmar government who previously held important positions in the Myanmar army often MYANMAR: RELIGION, IDENTITY, AND CONFLICT IN A DEMOCRATIC ... 171

put this toll in stark terms. In 2013, one senior political figure told me that roughly 30% of the officers commissioned from his Defense Services Academy class were killed in battle fighting the Communist Party of Burma, the Kachin Independence Army and the Karen National Union in the 1970s and 1980s. He indicated that it is difficult to confirm these numbers but that for the enlisted ranks the mortality percentage would often have been higher. 12. Oliver Holmes, “Myanmar Agrees Limited Ceasefire Without Most Powerful Rebel Armies,” The Guardian, October 15, 2015. 13. Renaud Egreteau, “Assessing Recent Ethnic Peace Talks in Myanmar,” Asian Ethnicity 13, no. 3 (2014): 311–313. See also, Burma News International, Deciphering Myanmar’s Peace Process: A Reference Guide (Chiang Mai: Burma News International, 2014). 14. ICG, The Dark Side of Transition: Violence Against Muslims in Myanmar (Brussels: International Crisis Group. Asia Report 251, October 1, 2013). 15. Thomas Fuller and Wai Moe, “Buddhist-Muslim Mayhem Hits Myanmar’s No. 2 City,” The New York Times, July 3, 2014. 16. Kumar Ramakrishna, “Non-Violent Extremism: The Case of Wirathu in Myanmar,” RSIS Commentaries (Singapore: Nanyang Technological University, 2013). 17. There is great dispute in Myanmar about whether a distinctive group called Rohingya even exists. Among those who are skeptical of such claims there is a consistent effort to delegitimize this particular ethnic category. In the 2014 census, for instance, government enumerators were instructed to reject any claim to Rohingya identity. See, for example, Tim McLaughlin, “Enumeration of Rohingya a ‘complete failure,’ Census Observers Say,” The Myanmar Times, August 19, 2014. By the same token the UN has well- established principles for self-identification and in that context the label Rohingya appears a reasonable reflection of certain individual and group preferences. In April 2014, Tomás Ojea Quintana, the UN Special Rapporteur for human rights in Myanmar, stated that “[s]elf-identification should constitute a pillar of the collection of ethnically disaggregated data. It is related to respect for the rights of individuals to assert their own identity” (UN, “UN Expert Alarmed at Worsening Human Rights Situation in Myanmar’s Rakhine State,” United Nations News Centre. April 7, 2014). The contention about this issue is fundamental to the persecution faced by the Rohingya in Myanmar, but also in Bangladesh where a large population of former Myanmar residents, perhaps as many as 500,000 people, are excluded from Bangladeshi citizenship based on their foreign origins. 18. Patrick Jory, “On Myanmar’s Plural Society,” New Mandala, April 2, 2013. Available from: asiapacific.anu.edu.au/newmandala/2013/04/02/on- myanmars-plural-society/. 172 N. FARRELLY

19. Melissa Crouch, “Constitutional Amendment Key to 2015 Myanmar Elections,” New Mandala, August 8, 2013. Available from: asiapacific. anu.edu.au/newmandala/2013/08/08/constitutional-amendment-key- to-2015-myanmar-elections/. 20. Dylan Ming Hui Loh, “Myanmar’s ASEAN Chairmanship: Challenges and Opportunities,” RSIS Commentaries (Singapore: Nanyang Technological University, 2014). 21. Unfortunately there is still little in the way of reliable survey data on political topics in Myanmar. As such, some of these observations are based on my own anecdotal impressions. These are grounded, in particular, in the period that I spent in Myanmar from January to June 2014 where I conducted research in Naypyitaw and Yangon, and also travelled to other parts of the country including Kachin, Kayin and Rakhine States, and Bago and Ayeyarwady Regions. 22. Rachel Wagley, “A Separate Peace,” New Mandala,October23,2015. Available from: http://asiapacific.anu.edu.au/newmandala/2015/10/23/ a-separate-peace/;TrevorWilson,“Is Myanmar’s Nationwide Ceasefire Agreement Good Enough?” East Asia Forum, October 21, 2015. Available from: http://www.eastasiaforum.org/2015/10/21/is-myanmars-nation wide-ceasefire-agreement-good-enough/;WaLone,“Ceasefire Draft Could be Finalised in September, Government and Ethnic Groups Say,” The Myanmar Times, August 19, 2014. Available from: http://www.mmtimes. com/index.php/national-news/11420-ceasefire-draft-could-be-finalised-in- september-government-and-ethnic-groups-say.html. 23. See SWAN, License to Rape: The Burmese Military Regime’s Use of Sexual Violence in the Ongoing War in Shan State (Chiang Mai: Shan Human Rights Foundation and Shan Women’s Action Network, 2002), and also Fink (2008). 24. Phyu Phyu Sann and Akila Radhakrishnan, “License to Rape: How Burma’s Military Employs Systematic Sexualized Violence,” Women under siege, March 15, 2012. Available from: http://www.womenundersiegeproject. org/blog/entry/license-to-rape-how-burmas-military-employs-systematic- sexualized-violence. 25. Yen Snaing and Lawi Weng, “Unicef Highlights Plight of Burma’s IDPs, Vulnerable Children,” The Irrawaddy, April 2, 2014. 26. Rosalie Metro, “Looks Good on Paper: Education Reform in Burma,” New Mandala, February 25, 2014. Available from: asiapacific.anu.edu.au/newmandala/2014/02/25/looks-good-on-paper-education-reform-in-burma/ 27. Although there are ethnic minority media organizations, some of which have resources sufficient to publish and present materials in multiple languages. The Kachin News Group, as one example, produces regular content in Burmese, English and Jinghpaw. For a full account of ethnic minority contributions to the media see Brooten (2008, 111–113). MYANMAR: RELIGION, IDENTITY, AND CONFLICT IN A DEMOCRATIC ... 173

28. See, Grundy-Warr and Dean (2003) and also Nicholas Farrelly (2014b). 29. Mika Toyota, “Contested Chinese Identities Among Ethnic Minorities in the China, Burma and Thai Borderlands,” Ethnic and Racial Studies 26, no. 2(2003), 301–320. 30. In 2014 I attended the major celebrations for Shan State Day and Chin State Day held in Naypyitaw. On both occasions senior members of the Myanmar government attended, including the speaker of the Union Assembly, Shwe Mann, and NLD leader, Aung San Suu Kyi. These festive occasions are an opportunity for the celebration of ethnic minority food, dance and music in the heart of Myanmar’s new capital. 31. Pyae Thet Phyo, “State-Run Ethnic News, Culture Channel Begins Test Broadcasts,” The Myanmar Times, September 15, 2013. 32. For recent coverage of the economics and politics of this mining see: Global Witness, Jade: Myanmar’s “Big State Secret”, October 23, 2015. Available from: https://www.globalwitness.org/documents/18096/Jade_full_ report_online_lo_res.pdf. 33. The mountainous road between Hpa-an and Myawaddy in Kayin state is a good example of the priority that armed groups, including government forces, put on controlling and taxing traffic through their territories. Along that road there are around five different groups, some of whom do not wear readily identifiable uniforms, which levy taxes on passing motorists. 34. Desmond Ball, “Security Developments in the Thailand-Burma Borderlands” (Sydney: Australian Mekong Resource Centre, 2003). 35. Nicholas Farrelly, “More on the Rebellion Resistance Force,” New Mandala, September 27, 2007. Available from: asiapacific.anu.edu.au/ newmandala/2007/09/27/more-on-the-rebellion-resistance-force 36. Kyaw Phone Kyaw, “Civil Society Slams ‘disgraceful’ Interfaith Marriage Law Plan,” The Myanmar Times, May 12, 2014; Win Naung Toe, “Myanmar’s Parliament Approves Controversial Interfaith Marriage Law,” Radio Free Asia, July 7, 2015. Available from: http://www.rfa.org/eng lish/news/myanmar/parliament-approves-controversial-interfaith-mar riage-law-07072015152051.html. 37. Si Thu Lwin, “Meiktila IDPs Brace for Rainy Season,” The Myanmar Times, May 6, 2014. 38. The percentages of people professing Myanmar’sdifferentreligionsare widely disputed. There are ongoing efforts to challenge the claim that the Muslim population is more than 4%, but based on general impressions gleaned over many years it must be. And in that case the proportion of the population who are Buddhists is lower than the 90% that the government usually claims. It is unclear whether the 2014 census will ever provide relevant guidance on this question as the key data has yet to be released. 174 N. FARRELLY

39. Eliane Coates, “Inter-Religious Violence in Myanmar: A Security Threat to Southeast Asia,” RSIS Commentaries (Singapore: Nanyang Technological University, 2013). 40. Previously there were senior figures in the armed forces drawn from ethnic backgrounds. Some of the most famous are General Smith Dun, who was commander-in-chief of the Burma Army in 1948 and 1949, and Lazum Kam Hpang, an ethnic Kachin who was Northern Commander based in Myitkyina but was assassinated by the Kachin Independence Army in 1985. 41. There are still no major studies of this “returnee” population, although it is clear that over the next decade they will become influential actors in Myanmar society and politics. 42. See Farrelly 2012a; Farrelly et al. 2014. 43. It is important to recognize that other countries in Southeast Asia have similarly expansive visions of their historical claims. Some Thais have presented the boldest of those visions by claiming, in discursive terms at least, vast territories beyond their prevailing national borders. 44. Lun Min Mang, “U Ye Htut Resurfaces from Study Leave in US,” The Myanmar Times, July 16, 2014. 45. Kyaw Zwa Moe, “Burma’s Ex-Dictator and His Invisible Line,” The Irrawaddy, May 22, 2013. 46. James Giggacher, “Watch the Enemies from Your Own Side,” New Mandala, August 14, 2015. Available from: http://asiapacific.anu.edu. au/newmandala/2015/08/14/watch-the-enemies-from-your-own-side/. 47. At the same time it is still too early to judge whether such efforts will be maintained for the long-term. Proposals for a more robust national framework guarding against racial vilification are one example of the next possible steps in this process. For details on a potential racial discrimination law see Willis (2014). 48. Mizzima, “Myanmar Govt Defends Decision to Bar Rohingya from Poll,” Mizzima News, September 26, 2015.

Nicholas Farrelly is a Fellow in the Coral Bell School of Asia Paciﬁc Affairs at the Australian National University (ANU), where he is also Director of the Myanmar Research Centre. Nicholas completed Masters and Doctoral theses at the University of Oxford where he was a Rhodes Scholar. In 2006, Nicholas co- founded New Mandala, a prominent website on Southeast Asian politics and societies. He currently holds an Australian Research Council fellowship for a major study of political change in Myanmar and writes a weekly newspaper column for the Myanmar Times. CHAPTER 7

Nepal: Identity Politics in a Turbulent Transition

Subindra Bogati, Fletcher D. Cox, Sachchi Karki and Timothy D. Sisk

When Nepal’s armed conﬂict ended in a Comprehensive Peace Agreement (CPA) in 2006, followed by elections in 2008 to a constitution-making assembly, the country emerged with its ﬁrst meaningful chance at a transition to inclusive, democratic politics. The “People’s War,” as described by the Communist Party of Nepal (Maoist) or CPN-M who

S. Bogati (*) Nepal Peacebuilding Initiative, Kathmandu, Nepal e-mail: [email protected] F.D. Cox Department of Political Science, William Jewell College, Liberty, MO, USA Sié Chéou Kang Center for International Security and Diplomacy, Korbel School of International Studies, University of Denver, Denver, CO, USA e-mail: [email protected] S. Karki United Nations Country Ofﬁce, Kathmandu, Nepal e-mail: [email protected] T.D. Sisk Josef Korbel School of International Studies, University of Denver, Denver, Colorado, USA e-mail: [email protected]

© The Author(s) 2017 175 F.D. Cox, T.D. Sisk (eds.), Peacebuilding in Deeply Divided Societies, Rethinking Political Violence, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-50715-6_7 176 S. BOGATI ET AL. led it, left some 16,278 casualties and displaced 150,000 people.1 The CPA brought the CPN-M into peaceful politics. The CPN-M later known as Unified Communist Party of Nepal [UCPN(M)] claimed to have waged the war against monarchy and the unitary state. Immediately after the signing of the CPA, in 2007, the Interim Parliament voted to abolish monarchy and Nepal was proposed to be a “federal democratic republican state.” In the Constituent Assembly (CA) elections that followed in 2008, the Maoists saw a surprising success, and, by 2012, a total of 1,462 ex- Maoist combatants were integrated into the Nepalese Army.2 However, like in many other contexts of democratization, the Nepal transition has been turbulent. Even though civil war has not re-emerged, the country has been beset by instability due to shifting governing coalitions, localized political violence, and, most poignantly, strong identity- based political mobilization. Deep social differences and inequalities persist, and the issues concerning social transformation in Nepal’s complexly divided societies create ongoing vulnerabilities to armed violence. Nepal faces continued conflict along identity lines from historical patterns of exclusion and discrimination, which has a religious and cultural basis in Hinduism. Most importantly, new forms of identity-based mobilization emerged with Nepal’s turbulent transition. Religion, as such, is not as directly divisive in Nepal as in many other cases; however, a number of recent local-level conflicts, in the Tarai region in particular, are shaped by inter-religious group tension. This places the case study in a continuum of analysis in which religious factors are less salient as conflict drivers, yet, at the same time, historical sociological aspects of the primary religion – the Hindu caste system – continue to delineate and define political loyalties. The case of Nepal is also a setting in which the transition from war-to- democracy was highly internationalized. In response to the letter to the UN Secretary General in August 2006 by Seven Party Alliance (SPA) and the CPN-M, the United Nations Mission in Nepal (UNMIN) was established in 2007. It was set up as a special political mission with a mandate to monitor the ceasefire agreement, monitor the management of arms and armed personnel of the Nepal Army and the Maoist Army, assist the parties through a Joint Monitoring Coordinating Committee in implementing their agreement on the management of arms and armed personnel, and provide technical support to conduct the election of a CA in a free and fair atmosphere (Suhrke 2011). The UNMIN was a test of the UN’s broader shift to “light footprint” missions to help facilitate transitional processes in countries emerging from conflict when “heavy footprint” comprehensive peacekeeping NEPAL: IDENTITY POLITICS IN A TURBULENT TRANSITION 177 operations were not possible or appropriate to the context. In this vein, the UNMIN has been praised as having been appropriately tailored to the sensitive context of Nepal where national ownership of the peace process and the long shadow of India created the conditions in which a more robust mission was unnecessary and would have been arguably unhelpful. Following the departure of the UNMIN that facilitated the initial transition from war-to-peace in early 2011, Nepal became a case of endogenous development after civil war, with a locally led peace process. This leaves principal UN efforts to be coordinated by the UN Resident Representative. Nepal also received significant and longstanding attention from international development partners, some of whom support an agenda designed around the idea that remediation of Nepal’sdeep“horizontal inequalities” is an essential step for the consolidation of peace. The promotion of social cohesion in Nepal has created for international development partners a dilemma between fostering a locally owned peace process versus advocating international norms and conducting projects with a more transformation or interventionist orientation associated with the goals of empowerment of historically disadvantaged and vulnerable groups. The Nepal case, therefore, raises significant questions about external intervention in conflict-affected countries, including the approaches and effects of international actors helping facilitate post-conflict democratic transitions. In Nepal, the jury is very much out on the overall “success” of the transition, especially in light of the recent failure of the first CA (2008– 2012) to draft a new constitution. This failure weighed against the relative success of the reintegration of Maoist combatants into the Nepalese Army, and their rehabilitation into society through transitional financial support. The peace process set a precedent. The Constitutional Assembly was highly inclusive, due to general consensus around the need to address entrenched discrimination based on castes and ethnicities through state restructuring, proportional political representation, and affirmative action. Notwithstanding the previous CA’s failure, the political agreement to have an electoral government headed by the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court to hold the second round of CA elections in November 2013 was an indication of Nepali political elites’ willingness to be held accountable to the failure, and move ahead in the direction of institutionalizing gains made during the CA process 2008–2012. A fairly peaceful second election took place on November 19, 2013, to convene a new constitutional assembly. The second round of CA elections saw the victory of the traditional political parties, the Nepali Congress 178 S. BOGATI ET AL.

(NC) and the Communist Party of Nepal–United Marxist Leninist (CPN–UML), often considered as the “reluctant federalists.” This brought the “ethnic federalism” agenda to the forefront, largely propagated new parties, including the UCPN(M) and Madhesh-based regional parties. Although the major earthquake in Nepal in April of 2015 brought government reform efforts to a standstill, the ethnic federalism debate continues to frame contentious relationships among a broad spectrum of identity groups competing for access to scarce government resources necessary to recover from the negative effects of civil war and natural disaster.

SOCIAL COHESION IN NEPAL:HISTORICAL CHALLENGES AND CONTEMPORARY OPPORTUNITIES Religion forms a subtext for Nepal’s political development and transition. The old political system was a high caste dominated, Hindu Monarchical system, which lasted from 1768 to 2008. Monarchy in Nepal was a religio- political system, and the King was ritualized by the Brahman. The ruling elite propagated a unitary nationalist concept within the framework of one national religion, language, and monarchy. Hierarchies – both caste and gender based – shaped a feudal socio-economic and political structure. Within this system, the Brahman, Chhetri, and Newar gained from the Nepali state and other caste and ethnic groups lost, resulting in widespread poverty stemming from unequal distribution of wealth and unequal access to resources and services. Following the CPA and the declaration of Nepal as a secular republic in 2008, Nepal was no longer the world’s only “Hindu Kingdom.” Within this transition, previously excluded ethnic and caste groups began to make claims for deep-seated social transformation through the introduction of the “politics of inclusion.” Social cohesion, as a sociological concept, does not have an exact Nepali equivalent. Cohesion is described in terms of good will, tolerance, or social harmony. These terms invoke the quality of voluntary magnanimity on the part of the expressor of good will or the tolerant. In a country with over 125 ethnic groups, languages, and cultures,3 the absence of the concept of cohesion based on the notion of a shared national destiny is remarkable. The notion of a larger Nepali national identity is still an emerging idea, nearly 60 years after the country joined the UN in 1955. CK Lal, a leading Nepali political analyst, theorizes NEPAL: IDENTITY POLITICS IN A TURBULENT TRANSITION 179 that the processes for attaining social cohesion in the Nepal context requires six major elements: mutual cost-benefitanalysis,identification of each group’s strengths and weaknesses, stocktaking of the advantages of cooperation, a commitment to work together under set procedures despite a large degree of mistrust, restraint against the use of rhetoric that hurts other groups, and a shared agreement to participate for common goals.4 Analysis of social cohesion in contemporary Nepal also charts the rise of ethnic awareness and the politicization of identity. Many respondents attribute the rise of identity-based politics in Nepal to the Maoist’s process of ideological mobilization. Identity-based awareness brought to the surface the issue of the exclusion of the hill-based indigenous people, Tarai-based people and the Dalits from national processes. This brewed resentment toward the deeply entrenched caste and political system that consolidated power in the hands of a few ethnic groups that propagated norms of superiority by birth and completely blocked social mobility.5 Caste-based discrimination and its acceptance by both the discriminator and the discriminated under the Hindu doctrine of fatalism remain a major obstacle to the social cohesion in Nepal. Since the emergence of the Maoist conflict, multiple factors and processes broke the sense of what had been called social “Sadhabav” (“good will”)6 imposed by the high- class ruling elites and the state religion. Decades of caste- and ethnicity- based discrimination, denial of opportunities, and passive acceptance of marginalization under the doctrine of fatalism were the root causes of civil conflict. Dissolution of the old monarchy exposed diversity in Nepal and made identity very contested and social cohesion fragile. As a result, identity politics is on the rise.

THE FIRST CYCLE OF CHANGE:FROM TRADITIONAL MONARCHY TO CIVIL WAR Nepal’s historical context is critical for understanding the contemporary nature of social cohesion in a country with indigenous, minority, and disadvantaged caste groups claiming they have long been denied a voice in what has been a historically “ranked” society. King Prithvi Narayan Shah of Gorkha uniﬁed the small kingdoms that constituted Nepal in 1768. In 1847, the Rana oligarchy was introduced by Jung Bahadur 180 S. BOGATI ET AL.

Rana, who also introduced the system of inherited premiership and took control over the army and administration and crippled the monarchy. After 104 years of Rana oligarchy, democracy was introduced in the country in 1951. The struggle to consolidate democratic norms in a country with 2% literacy rate was abandoned in 1960 by the then King Mahendra Bir Bikram Shah. He reversed the democratic movement, imprisoned all democratic leaders and imposed the party-less Panchayat system.7 This form of direct rule lasted for 30 years before it was over- thrown in 1990 through popular protests. The Panchayat system strictly prohibited political activities but permitted government sponsored class and professional organizations as substitutes for the prohibited political parties. As such, this system provided alternate channels for the articulation of group or class interests, rather than political interests that could challenge the status quo. Professional and class organizations were warned repeatedly against engaging in political activity during this period of centralized rule.

THE SECOND CYCLE:FROM CIVIL WAR TO CPA The centralized Panchayat system faced opposition from the underground political parties in the 1970s and 1980s. In the 1970s, tensions escalated in Eastern Nepal with the rise of a communist rebellion and the killing of the so-called feudal landlords to which the government retaliated in the form of a killing rampage of the communist leaders. Around the same time, a major student protests to oppose the hanging of Pakistan’s Premier Mr. Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, was suppressed by the military in Kathmandu. This triggered nationwide student protests that quickly turned into a larger anti-government movement. A referendum was announced in May 1979 and people were asked to choose between the reformed “party- less Panchayat system” and “multiparty democracy.” The former agenda won and tensions continued to stir underground until political parties and civil society groups joined forces to overthrow the Panchayat system in 1990. A democratic government under constitutional monarchy was rein- stated in 1991, after the success of the people’s movement. During this period, Nepal started to modernize very rapidly. The country was on a development track, attaining 7% annual growth in GDP over the 1980s and 1990s, largely due to the massive expansion of community management of forests, micro hydro-projects, and community-based irrigation NEPAL: IDENTITY POLITICS IN A TURBULENT TRANSITION 181 systems. Not all regions of Nepal benefitted from rapid growth, however. The fact that the “epicenters of the conflict” during the Maoist conflict, “were the rural mid and far western regions” with the highest levels of “horizontal inequalities” illustrated that uneven development and social and economic exclusion of large segments of the population constituted root drivers of the people’s war (Deraniyagala 2005). In areas where social divisions based on the rural/urban divide, geographical inaccessibility, and caste or ethnicity were rampant, economic disparities were also extreme. These overlapping disparities translated into support Maoist rebel groups.

THE RISE OF THE COMMUNIST PARTY OF NEPAL (MAOIST) The Maoist movement began as an offshoot of the United People’s Front (UPF), which won nine seats in the 1991 elections. The NC won an outright majority during those elections while the CPN(UML)) won 69 out of 209 seats. A strong left opposition to the NC Government led by Girija Prasad Koirala, both at the parliament and on the streets, was met with force, inflaming the situation further. The Unity Center of the UPF then split into two factions, with the more radical faction led by Prachanda, the nom de guerre of Pushpa Kamal Dahal. This new party was denied recognition during the midterm elections in 1994. With limited political options, they boycotted the midterm elections. In March 1995, the Party was then named the Communist Party of Nepal (Maoist), or the CPN-M, and the group embraced the doctrine of armed struggle. In October of 1995 Maoist rebel groups started targeting the so-called class enemies in the Mid-Western districts of Rukum and Rolpa. This was met with harsh suppression by the Nepal Police during “Operation Romeo,” which alienated a large number of people in the Mid-West with its long history of deprivation, geographic hardship and lack of development. Operation Romeo, however, backfired. The use of indiscriminate force by the state caused a large number of people to join the Maoist recruit pool. The high level of social diversity (ethnic, cultural, religious, class, inter alia) in Nepal, in and of itself, does not correlate with violent conflict. The fact that Nepal is highly stratified by ethnicity, caste, and even class did not make it inherently more prone to violent civil conflict. Rather, large-scale political changes during democratization and large-scale economic changes due to liberalization created deep cultural gaps that intensified 182 S. BOGATI ET AL. subjective perceptions of worsening inequality (Murshed and Gates 2005; Deraniyagala 2005). As such, the rapid expansion of the Maoist movement in Nepal cannot be explained in political, social, or economic terms alone. In the rapidly changing political conditions in the aftermath of the failure of the CPN(UML) government following the midterm elections, Maoists seemed more principled. In their efforts to retain discretionary powers, political parties failed to address the aspirations of their supporters. Political elites of the Panchayat era changed their guise and joined the political mainstream, but not much changed in the lives of the Janajatis, women, and Dalits, who constituted a large number of the Maoist cadres.

THE THIRD CYCLE:TOWARD AN “INCLUSION” AGENDA Identity politics, which had been existent but largely dormant since the 1950s, became more visible in Nepal during the referendum campaign of the 1980s. The referendum campaign led to the awareness of the dominance of the high caste groups across political, social, and economic spheres. Following the 1990 mass movement, traditional ethnic practices, formerly suppressed by the Panchayat Government in efforts to create a national identity, found an outlet for expression. The number of ethnic political parties also grew. The 1991 census enlisted 26 ethnic groups comprising of 35% of the total population. Nepal National People’s Liberation Front, led by Gore Bahadur Khapangi, was the first political party that was explicitly ethnic. They submitted a memorandum demanding a representative on the constitutional commission set up after the 1990 movement. The Janajati Party (roughly translated as the ethnic party) led by Khagendra Jung Gurung resorted to a more violent campaign and made stronger demands for ethnic federalism. The Janajat Party’s first demand was the division of Nepal into 12 autonomous ethnic states. After these early ethnic parties gained in status, many other smaller ethnic parties comprised of members from very particular ethnic groups emerged. The ethnic movements mobilized based on key themes including autonomy over land, language, and religion.8 Identity politics became a rallying cry for Maoists, which provided an opportunity for them to gain cross-cutting support not only among the hill-based ethnic groups but also among Tarai-based communities. Nepali scholars agree that the Maoists take the credit for reinvigorating local ethnic struggles to which the Madhesh movement of 2007 provided a NEPAL: IDENTITY POLITICS IN A TURBULENT TRANSITION 183 major thrust. The Madhesh movement secured a place for the agenda of federalism and proportional representation (PR) in mainstream political debates and asserted that consolidating Nepal’s democratic gains would not be possible without addressing the individual demands of the different ethnic parties for a greater influence over the process of state building. In the face of growing discontent based on historical grievances about the state’s inability and unwillingness to deliver services equally to all of Nepal’s diverse caste and ethnic groups and geographic areas, people were effectively drawn toward the Maoist roadmap to remedy the exclusionary practices through armed rebellion. The Maoists also used identity very effectively in the post-conflict environment to mobilize support. In particular, the Maoist “inclusion agenda” had a very strong appeal to historically marginalized groups, especially in remote areas with very little state capacity.9 Maoist used highly tailored appeals to different groups, such as pointing out a lack of representation. This created space for rise of “ethnic entrepreneurs” in a new, highly fragmented political environment and even shaped the “invention of political identity” in the Tarai.

EMERGING FROM A “RANKED SOCIETY”:CASTE AND RELIGION Nepal has a highly complex social structure, governed by a value system embedded within a traditional Hindu social order. Krishna Hachhethu states, “The Hindu social order does not recognize humans as equal entities.” The Civil Code of 1854 institutionalized the caste system and the corresponding class system. While Brahmans occupied the highest rung in the hierarchy, Dalits occupied the lowest and various ethnic groups occupied the middle rungs. Dalits, considered “impure,” were deprived of opportunities open to the higher caste groups. In the economy, certain castes and ethnic groups could be enslaved while others could not. Discriminatory practices also found expression in the penal system. According to the Muluki Ain Code, for example, punishment was determined based on one’s position within the caste hierarchy, which means different castes faced different punishments for similar crimes, In short, based on the Civil Code, caste-based discrimination became the primary organizing principle for consolidating Nepal’s diverse people group into a modern nation state. The state machinery, legal systems, and dominant religion deeply institutionalized inequality. 184 S. BOGATI ET AL.

The most standard elite rebuttal of identity politics and rising demand for ethnic autonomy urges people to consider the social goodwill and peaceful coexistence in Nepal despite deeply entrenched caste-based differences. Some claim caste group were different but accorded due respect, as the society was considered to be an organic composite of different castes, with their defined roles to make the whole social system functional and beneficial for all. However, the “good will” existing between the Gorkahlis and non-Gorkhalis was mostly a latent conflict or a persistent animosity between the exploiter and the exploited. According to the state the right to draft and impose acts without consultation or concern toward the marginalized meant elite interests prevailed and injustices committed against exploited communities were, in C,K. Lal’s terms, “brushed under the carpet of social harmony.”10 Early attempts at democratization in Nepal always focused on maintenance of the status quo in terms of traditional elites continued domination of the state apparatus. With weak political institutions unable to manage more intense political competition, the most excluded social groups resorted to violent conflict. At the same time, liberalism contributed to rising urban-rural income inequality as well as intra-rural income inequality and overall perceptions of greater inequality; thus, “economic grievances arising out of poverty and deprivation played a significant role in creating the material conditions that prompted armed rebellion.”11 Any semblance of social harmony in Nepal prior to the civil war was a result of the culture of submission. As Bista describes, the state imposed Hinduism and supported the idea that one’s life now is a result of one’s Karmas (or high fatalism).12 Historically, religion was compartmentalized in Nepal and played an indirect role in politics. This could be a positive aspect of social cohesion in Nepal, as religion is not easily used as a tool for political conflicts.13 However, as the ethnic movement gathered momentum, the release of 2012 census data underscored a new and changing social dynamic in Nepal: the “assertiveness of the Christian Movement” driven by missionaries from Japan, Taiwan, and South Korea, who tend to make special appeal to Dalit communities. Over time, evangelic Christianity has increased confidence and mobilization among Dalit groups, putting pressure on the caste system. In 2012, Christian groups and indigenous groups alleged they were systematically under-reported in the census results. NEPAL: IDENTITY POLITICS IN A TURBULENT TRANSITION 185

CONTEMPORARY IDENTITY-BASED POLITICAL MOVEMENTS Since the onset of democracy in the 1990, various linguistic, ethnic/ national, religious, caste, and regional groups mobilized to redeﬁne the “state centric nationalism” of the Panchayat era and create momentum toward a more pluralist and accommodative “people centric, nationalism.” The mobilization has taken different forms among different groups, ranging from attempting to establish a common identity to demanding separation through violent means (Hangen and Lowati 2013). After the success of the second democratic mass movement and the signing of the CPA in 2006, the stakes associated with state suppression of identity-based political movements became higher. The result is that political elites must be seen as addressing grievances associated with caste- and ethnicity-based exclusion. This new focus stems from the realization that peace and democracy in Nepal will not endure unless there are real attempts to accommodate diverse demands of various ethnic, religious, and regional minorities for inclusion and participation in state affairs. This, however, creates tension between status quo and demands for radical change.14 Recent identity-based movements in Nepal are directed toward the state, which proves positive for preventing civil war recurrence but negative for effective governance.15 Mobilization has not taken the form of all out inter-communal violence, but rather contentious politics. The few exceptions are the beginning of the Madhesh movement in 2007, when people of hill origin were displaced from the Madhesh region. The conﬂict in the Far Western Region of Nepal immediately before the dissolution of the CA (2008–2012), also caused tension among the Tharu Community and people from the Brahman Chetri community. Initial communal clashes, however, did not escalate into inter-communal wars, but rather political movements. The following analysis highlights the dynamics and interests of the largest and most robust identity-based political movements in Nepal.

THE MADHESH MOVEMENT The major thrust for identity-based political mobilization in Nepal came from the Madhesh movement in 2007, often termed as the biggest ethnic movement in Nepal (Bhakta 2011). In 2007, a minor accident in Lahan of Saptari district in Eastern Nepal precipitated clashes between 186 S. BOGATI ET AL.

Madhesis, the people of the Tarai origin, and Pahades, the people of the Hill origin, in Nepalganj of Banke district and Lahan of Siraha district. These clashes triggered the so-called Madhesh uprising. The movement lasted for 22 days, stopped economic exchange in the Tarai Madhesh, and displaced thousands of the people of hill origin residing in the Tarai. Respondents claim the movement generated rising fear of further communal violence. The reasons outlined for Madhesh uprising include discriminatory citizenship policies and long-running marginalization in the state apparatus. The Madhesh region houses 60% of Nepal’s total agricultural land, but Madhesis were underrepresented in the government. The major demands from the Madhesh movement were the federal restructuring of the state, with one Madhesh province with multiple identities; PR in state governance; acceptance of local language and culture; partnership in the use of the state resources; and an inclusive state. The movement also demanded a decisive role in the state reconstruction and respect as citizens of the state through progressive inter-communal dialogue. Madhesh-based political parties and academics claim that there has been an “internal colonization” of the Madhesh region. Historically, using the tactics of separation and exclusion, the state discouraged the representation of the Madhesis in state security, public service, and judicial bureaucracies. Rajendra Maharjan, furthermore, claims the state exploited the resources of the Madhesh region without securing the rights of the people. This relationship characterized Madhesh policies of the ruling elites since the uniﬁcation.16 Maoists approached the Madhesh region with a promise to rectify the two major causes of the Madhesis suffering: under representation in the state apparatus and a lack of their PR in the governing bodies. Hence, Madheshi support for the Maoist was garnered under the slogan of federalism and PR based on their population. After the CPA, when the demands for federalism and PR began to weaken, the Madhesis waged the “Madhesh movement” to reassert their interests. In the 2008 CA elections, four Madhesh-based parties secured a total of 83 seats, including 40 under the PR quota. Partnering with the UCPN (M), who could garner a majority with their support, they had a strong bargaining capacity during the period. However, gradually they began to lose the momentum. The original parties split and the number of Madhesi political parties soared to as many as 34. Split after split led to their embarrassing defeat in the 2013 elections. NEPAL: IDENTITY POLITICS IN A TURBULENT TRANSITION 187

In the run up to the CA elections 2013, factionalization was so extreme due to the fact that caste and ethnicity were primary political issues across the Madhesh region. Madhesh-based parties supported candidates hailing from the majority population in each concerned constituency, and pre-poll campaigns focused on local caste and ethnic-based interests than a larger political agenda. While this is an unwelcome development, CA elections 2013 saw the loss of Madheshi parties in the Madhesh region in general. The NC and CPN(UML) were far more successful. Some analysts claim that the defeat was because of the disproportionate power Madhesh-based leaders wielded in the previous CA, such that many constituencies blamed Madheshi leaders for failure to write a constitution, factionalization within the larger parties, and the overall lack of substantive change in the Madheshi people’s lives. The defeat of the Madheshi parties and the UCPN(M) in elections for the CA 2013 was interpreted as the return of the status quo, anti-federalist forces. Post-CA results op-ed columns debated the extent to which Madheshi parties and UCPN(M) remained conﬁdent about the issues they raised, especially considering that they did little to deliver on their promises. In contrast, the NC and UML, following their defeat in CA elections 2008, undertook self-reﬂection and analyzed and developed a contextual understanding of the outstanding Madhesh and indigenous issues that had been overlooked in the past and thus were able to make broader appeals. As political analyst Bishnu Sapkota described, the issues of ethnic groups may be permanent but who will represent those issues may be temporary.

THE INDIGENOUS MOVEMENT The ethnic (Janajati) movement that began in 1950 was entrenched in the post-referendum era in the 1980s, and then really gained momentum in the post-1990 era following the introduction of multi-party democracy. The Nepalese Janajati movement is not uniﬁed by language, culture, or region, but it has been united by common experience across highly excluded indigenous groups in Nepal. The movement straddles political demands and cultural issues. The major demands of the Janajati movement are state transformation, creation of an inclusive state more responsive to the demands of all its citizens, federalism to protect ethnic autonomy, larger representation of the indigenous people in politics and state mechanisms, and redeﬁnition of Nepal’s national identity to embrace cultural diversity. 188 S. BOGATI ET AL.

Recently, in November 2009, the United Indigenous People’s Front, or Aadivasi/Janajati Brihat Morcha submitted a Memorandum to the Prime Minister regarding the common issues of the Aadivasi and Janajati. The primary demands emphasize the right to self-determination as in the right to adopt and implement legislative, administrative, and other measures according to indigenous customs, traditions, norms, and values. The Janajati aim to set up customary and freely determined institutions for autonomy and self-governance of their own regions and communities, an agenda that directly draws upon international norms including the International Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination, ILO 169, and the right to development centered on self-determination. The Janajati movement also exerts demands for socio-economic and political inclusion as applied to all aspects of state affairs, which translates into the demand for inclusion and real capacity to inﬂuence policy-making processes. Indigenous leaders in organizations such as the Nepal Federation of Indigenous Nationalities claim that their search has been for real “inclusion” in policy making, constitution making, and the determination of roles and responsibilities for CA members in electoral processes and in government institutions, from central to local.17 For example, the Janajait protested the results of the 2011 Census, claiming that the census deliberately under-reported indigenous minority group and other religious groups in an attempt to misguide development policies and undermine representation in favor of traditional elites, whose numbers continue to remain more or less the same.

THE THARU MOVEMENT According to most recent census, the Tharu are the fourth largest ethnic group in Nepal. They primarily live in the eight districts of the Tarai of which, they constitute 5.76% of the population. The 2011 census puts their number at 265,302. In the Mid and Far Western region, a large number of the Tharu suffered decades of exploitation and domination at the hands of higher castes and classes, and as bonded laborers, called Kamaiya. Kamaiya labor was eliminated by the government of Nepal in 2001, but the rehabilitation of Kamaiyas suffered setbacks. In 2007, there were rounds of protests by the freed Kamaiyas in Kathmandu to put pressure on the Government to complete their rehabilitation process, which has not yet concluded. NEPAL: IDENTITY POLITICS IN A TURBULENT TRANSITION 189

The Tharu community provided a strong support base to the then CPN-M during the armed conflict. The Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR) Nepal issued a report in 2008 regarding the disappearance of the Tharu from the Bardiya district in the Mid-Western part of Nepal. In a study of the Rana Tharu, Lai Ming Liam looks at the Tharu movement as two distinct and mutually exclusive strands, which only later united under an agenda to secure indigenous identity and highlight the issue of inadequate land distribution.18 The initial Tharu social movement began in 1949, led by the Tharu Welfare Society (TWS). This group attempted to raise the Tharu’s social status through Sanskritization.19 The second movement, led by Dilli Ram Chaudhary from Backward Society Education (BASE), started in 1985. It rallied the Tharu in Western Nepal under the issue of land deprivation of the Tharu at the hands of the Pahades. This movement promoted education as a way for the Tharu’s escape from their subordinate social status. The Sanskritization strand led by the Tharu elites from the Eastern Tarai attempted to raise the social status of the Tharu by adopting high caste Hindu cultures and customs, which undermined their ability to garner adequate support from other parts of the country. Later, the TWS made efforts to link the Tharu movement with the global indigenous movement to garner nationwide support and international assistance and BASE also used the Tharu indigenous identity effectively. Tharu ethnic identity is not based on the shared cultural features. Rather, the two Tharu movements consolidated around the issues of access to land. The Tharus and the Madhesis find common ground around this grievance, which they call state sponsored migration of the hill people, who emigrated and usurped their land. Despite this common grievance, the Tharu still resist being merged with Madhesis. The struggle for a separate identity from the Tharu gained ground following the Madhesh movement in 2007. The TWS led the struggle to oppose the “One Madhesh” demand and put forward the demand for a Tharuhat state. The Tharu also have reservations about the name Madhesh applied to their area and prefer the region to be called “Tarai,” which, from this view, is a more inclusive term. Joining forces with the indigenous community was inadequate in addressing the Tharu demands for Tharuhat and equitable land distribution. A month-long standoff in the Far Western region of Nepal, in April–May 2012, resulted from opposing demands from a separate Tharuhat province by the Tharu and a demand for regional integrity of the “Far West” by the Brahman, Chhetris, and Dasnamis.20 This major 190 S. BOGATI ET AL. local protest was critical because it precipitated the dissolution of the Constitutional Assembly and led to the collapse of negotiations around the federalist structure of the state. While the Tharu demanded an autonomous Tharuhat province, Madhesis strongly opposed this as part of their demand for the East/West “One Madhesh” province. The Brahman, Chhetris, and Dasnamis, in contrast, demanded a unified Far West province.

THE DALIT MOVEMENT Among the identity-based groups clamoring for recognition and an end to discrimination and exclusion, the Dalits are the oldest and most disadvantaged social group in Nepal. Yet, their movement is not as strong as that of the Janajatis and Madhesis largely due to the fact that the group does not reside in a particular territory. Dalits are scattered all over the country. Analysts blame Dalit leaders’ prioritization of the need to eliminate class difference prior to the elimination of caste-based discrimination. Others claim Dalit leaders tend to fall in line with larger political parties’ interests, which weakens the Dalit struggle against the entrenched caste-based discrimination.21 For example, during the final Federalism debates in 2013, Dalits sided with the Brahman/Chhetri and Dasnamis in opposition to the prospects of ethnic federalism. In general, the Dalit movement has largely worked to demand access to public places, eliminate the idea of untouchability in cultural practice, gain equal participation in the public sphere, and develop a sense of Dalit unity. Dalit leaders interviewed during the field research maintain that many of the specific demands raised by the Dalit community were addressed by the CA elected in 2008. The CA included 50 Dalit representatives, 23 of which were elected from different political parties. In terms of “ethnic balancing” the 2008–2012 CA was the most representative legislature in terms of Nepal’s Dalit community. Therefore, the CA dissolution increased fear among Dalits that hard-earned gains in representation would be lost. Notwithstanding Dalit intellectuals’ desire for political power through affiliation with dominant political parties, it remains a critical challenge in Nepal to bring authentic Dalit voices to the political table. In most cases, Dalit representation in politics is mostly tokenism. For example, Tarai- based political parties gave Madheshi Dalit leaders tickets from areas of hill castes dominance in CA election in 2013. This was problematic: CA NEPAL: IDENTITY POLITICS IN A TURBULENT TRANSITION 191 election in 2013 thrived on ethnic-based voting behavior, such that Madheshi Dalit leaders did not stand a fair chance of winning. Therefore, in 2013, Dalit representation was reduced in comparison to the former CA. Out of the total 240 FPTP seats, only two Dalit candidates, fielded by the CPN(UML) party, won the elections. CPN(UML) had given tickets to six Dalit candidates. NC did not field any Dalit candidates and all the nine Dalit candidates fielded by the UCPN(M) lost the elections. This has raised concern among the Dalit population that without a strong voice the gains that they made during the former CA tenure may be lost.

POVERTY,INEQUALITY, AND IDENTITY IN NEPAL Horizontal inequalities characterize Nepali society, especially since unification. Well-defined grievances among ethnic groups focus on inequality of assets, employment opportunities, and even access to public services. All of these resources are largely capture by political elites and favor the hill-based, high castes closer to the ruling class (Bray et al. 2003). As a result, multiple studies underline poverty and inequality as the major factors driving grievances based on regional, political, and socio-economic disparities. The government and its patrimonial networks of favored castes and classes created a ruling class with access to political and economic opportunities, while imposing hegemony on other castes and religions. The overwhelming victory of High Caste Hindu representatives in the elections over the course of democratic history of Nepal meant that governance policies were drafted in a way that favored the Brahmans/Chhetris (Mallika 2013).22 The higher castes and classes have, therefore, emerged as the new entrepreneurial elite during Nepal’s process of industrialization. While the patron-client relationship between the rulers and the hill- based higher castes grew stronger, the state deliberately discriminated against communities in the Tarai. In particular, no attention was paid to the development of agriculture systems in the Tarai.23 After 1990, ethnic diversity entered political discourse, but the exclusive characteristics of the governance structure remained unchanged. This imbalance led to the Maoist explosion and the Madhesh struggle. B.P. Koirala, the first elected Prime Minister of Nepal, described Nepal as a state but not a nation state, which holds true to date. The unification of the country was limited to the geographic unification and it did not extend to political and economic unification. 192 S. BOGATI ET AL.

State restructuring for sustainable peace in Nepal will have to ensure grievances stemming from entrenched poverty and deliberate exclusion are addressed. This is possible through the devolution of the unitary state’s power through the federal system, correction of the past wrongs through affirmative action, inclusive politics and an acceptance of equality in diversity. The implication of this finding for development actors is that there is a great need for constant vigilance with regard to equitable and sustainable peacebuilding through inclusive processes and institutions. Ensuring the creation of a level playing field for all the people of Nepal, irrespective of the castes and ethnicities they belong to, will be crucial in managing grievances as Nepal continues to tap into major resources, including agriculture, hydropower, and tourism.

EXCLUSION,DISCRIMINATION, AND INSECURITY AMONG WOMEN IN NEPAL Under the predominantly patriarchal Hindu social order, women have always been treated as lesser than men and lacked economic opportunities. Gender-based discrimination is rampant and affects all women. It affects those from the lowest rung of the caste hierarchy the worst. Women suffer multiple layers of discrimination and are deprived of access to basic services including education, health care, socio-political participation, property, and justice. The level of gender-based violence is also very high. Some reports suggest 70% of Nepalese women have suffered from gender-based violence in their lifetime. Women’s share of earned income remains about one-third that of men, while their participation in the political processes is only one-fifth of the male rate despite affirmative action in CA. With rising awareness regarding their rights and a strong lobby in favor of women’s rights, the situation of women is only beginning to improve in Nepal. While women remain one of the major groups suffering discrimination over the history of Nepal, the women’s movement has proved relatively strong and has seen some progressive results, including affirmative action ensuring 33% representation for women in the public sphere. The Government’s active leadership in the National Action Plan on 1325 and 1820 to seek a meaningful role of women in peacebuilding and security promotion has been highly commended by the UN. The Government of Nepal also ratified all the major international conventions that aim to eliminate gender-based discrimination. Hence, there have been numerous NEPAL: IDENTITY POLITICS IN A TURBULENT TRANSITION 193 efforts to secure women’s rights in the private as well as the public domain. Implementation will continue to face challenges but steps have been taken toward building a fairer set of institutions to protect and expand women’s rights.

THE EFFECTS OF IDENTITY-BASED MOBILIZATION Nepal’s socio-political map has undergone an immense change following the onset of the Maoist insurgency. As marginalized group found voice and new outlets for mobilization and participation, demands for equality and inclusion grew stronger. Riding on the wave of success of the people’s movement and the overthrow of the monarchical regime, demands for equality of representation and opportunities raised by the Maoists and other early ethnically motivated groups received a hearing. Accommodation of the major demands of the various groups so as to channel their grievances to peaceful means of conﬂict resolution constitutes a major tactic of the transitional state. The idea of a multi-ethnic nation state, which accommodates all groups and fosters peace and harmony by promoting justice and equality, is deepening its roots.24 Despite early gains, Nepal’s path toward what Harka Gurung calls “polycentric nationalism” is rife with challenges (Lawoti and Pahari 2010). First, political parties, the majority of whom accepted Federalism as the model for New Nepal have not been able to make their support base understand the attributes and advantages of the federal restructuring of the state. Debates around federalism became so politically contentious and debated via ethnic rhetoric that the nature of the proposed system was often misinterpreted. As a result, fears emerged that devolving power would create a very divisive system that would disrupt social order and harmony in Nepal. The model of federalism proposed by the Constituent Assembly State Restructuring Committee and the State Restructuring High Level Recommendation Commission highlights identity based but non-ethnic federalism. For example, at the state level, the proposed system included: (1) PR of all castes/ethnicities in the state’s political structure, (2) an administrative structure prioritizing meritocratic administrative base rather than the caste or ethnic base, (3) the protection of local languages and the Nepali language as ofﬁcial languages, and (4) the Khas – Aarya community accorded the right to self-determination just like the Madhesis and the indigenous peoples. 194 S. BOGATI ET AL.

The proposal of the committee summed up the agreement with different groups and mapped out the federation in a way that would accommodate Nepal’s diversity. The structure aimed to eliminate the hegemony of the dominant political class, ensure the inclusion of more voices and contribute to the ongoing empowerment of minority groups. However, the inability on the part of the “reluctant federalists” to convince their support base of the merits of such a system, translated into misinterpreta- tion and misrepresentation of the issue. In order to prevent unaddressed grievances of marginalized castes and ethnicities from escalating into violent conflict, the new CA elected in November 2013 should start by agreeing on a model of federalism that addresses most of the debates so far and brings the dissenters into confidence regarding how the chosen model of federalism will deepen democracy, prevent potential conflict and violence, and address longstanding grievances. After the second CA elections in November 2013, the new assemble established January 22, 2015, as the deadline to deliver the final constitution. However, the drafting process did not move forward as hoped. The devastating earthquake of April 2015, which claimed more than 9,000 lives, forced squabbling parties, except Madhesh-based parties, to come together and speed up the constitution-drafting process. After seven years since the initiation of a constitution drafting process, Nepal finally approved a new constitution on September 22, 2015. A total of 85% elected CA members voted in favor of the document, far above the required two-thirds majority. The Constitution has been welcomed by most Nepalis who hope that it will herald peace and prosperity in the nation. However, problems remain in the Southern plains, where Madhesi groups reside. Protests paralyzed Madhesh for past seven weeks in early 2016, bringing educational, business, and vehicular movements to a halt. A Curfew was imposedinareasdesignatedasriot-affectedzonesandthearmywas deployed to maintain peace for the first time since the CPA. More than forty persons including eight policemen were killed in ensuing communal violence. The problem started with the agreement of the top three political parties declaring a seven state federal structure. Many Nepalis in the country’s southern plains felt the new Constitution pushed them further toward the margins. Prashant Jha, for example, argued that a constitutional deal among the three dominant political parties reversed many of the achievements excluded groups fought for under the first two CA NEPAL: IDENTITY POLITICS IN A TURBULENT TRANSITION 195 sessions. From his perspective, the new constitution sets up an electoral system that will leave groups of the Tarai underrepresented in the national legislature, dominant political parties dropped provisions on proportionate inclusion of marginalized group in other key state bureaucracies, the document includes citizenship laws that fail to protect the rights of both women and Madhesis, and new federal boundaries only suit the interests of the ruling elite.25 The international community, including India and the UN, have suggested all along that solutions to outstanding constitutional issues in Nepal must be found through dialogue. India’s position is that Madhesi and Janajati communities’ aspirations to become equal citizens have not been fulfilled in the new Constitution. India has openly taken sides, which has had a deeply polarizing effect among Nepalis. Not only that, India blocked all border entry points with Nepal and urged Nepal to amend the new Constitution by securing widest possible agreement. The much-awaited constitution did not lead to a deepening of social cohesion in Nepal. Rather, it triggered further fragmentation as radicalized identity groups decided to use violence to voice their grievances, effectively, deepening the chasm between the state and the citizens in the Tarai region. Recently developments in Nepal have revived caste- and ethnicity-based strife and rendered a blow to the social fabric. Moreover, while Kathmandu and the Tarai region are now occupied with politics and ongoing debates about the new constitution, a vast number of people in the quake-affected regions remain concerned about their livelihood and safety.

PATTERNS OF POLITICS IN TRANSITIONING NEPAL Critical to the analysis of social cohesion in Nepal is understanding how politics functions in the context of Nepal’s political transition. Despite the promise of fair representation and participation that the PR system entails, in the Nepal case, the four major political parties – UCPN(Maoist), NC, CPN(UML), and the Madheshi Front – tend to dominate and deﬁne agendas and decisions. Prior analysts termed this phenomenon the “four party cartel.” There were questions about the internal practice of democracy with the four big political parties, as well.26 In other words, PR did not get translated into proportionate participation in decision-making around when key questions of constitution building. 196 S. BOGATI ET AL.

When the civil war ended in November 2006, the CPA showed promise for structural change in the country. The vicious cycle of structural discrimination and a development deficit were written into the agreement as root causes of the insurgency. Therefore, after 2006, political changes in Nepal were qualitatively different from any preceding political transition, which were marked by changes of the ruler and the regime, while structural inequalities in the Nepali state remained in place. However, the post 2006 changes were fundamentally different. Core attributes of the state changed. The state changed from a Monarchy to a Republic, from a Hindu state to secular state, from the Nepali language to multi-language protection, from centralization in Kathmandu to decentralization, and from assimilation by state design and imposed social values to a broader national identity based on an accommodation of diversity. These were all major structural changes. The historic first CA also embodied a promise of mending some of the grievances lying at the root of the decade long Maoist insurgency in the country. For the first time in Nepal’s democratic history, 50 members of the CA were Dalits and 22 were women. Between 2008 and 2012, the “inclusion agenda” fed into all political processes at all levels of government. During this period, “inclusion was mainstreamed as an issue, but was not yet formalized within institutions.” 27 In other words, social inclusion was clearly “rhetoric” but is not yet “reality.” As a result, the period 2007–2011 became the most volatile post democratic period in Nepal in terms of accentuating divisions in the society.28 Donors as well as academics claim to have witnessed rising ethnic polarization along ethnic/ identity lines during the period.

CENTRALIZED GOVERNANCE AND INEFFECTIVE SERVICE DELIVERY Nepal has a long history of a unitary and centralized government system despite the policy of decentralization being enshrined as a guiding principle of the state structure since the Panchayat era. Nepal’s economic structure exacerbates the weakness of the state. Government service delivery operates as a neo-patrimonial, informal security regime. That is, the economic dimensions of social tension in Nepal have four dimensions: (1) asset inequality, (2) unequal access to public employment, (3) unequal access to public services, and (4) and broader macro-level economic NEPAL: IDENTITY POLITICS IN A TURBULENT TRANSITION 197 mismanagement.29 For a country based on a peasant economy, approximately one million out of six million agricultural laborers in Nepal are landless. Public administration posts are dominated by Bahun Chhetris and Newar caste groups. In the absence of elected local bodies, citizens access public goods principally through party ofﬁces, not through institutional bureaucracies. Indeed, it is not uncommon to see long lines form around party ofﬁces, comprised of actors seeking access to public goods or projects.30

THE ETHNIC FEDERALISM DEBATE The 12 points agreement of the 2006 CPA agreed to complete the peace process within two years, but the rift between dominant parties widened after the 2008 election results. After months of consultations and meetings, major political parties formed a high-level political forum in January 2010 with the goal of bringing the peace process to a logical conclusion: drafting a new constitution within the stipulated timeframe and ending long-running political deadlock.31 However, political consensus proved difficult to achieve. With no consensus on the federal states, UCPN(M) and the United Democratic Madheshi Front, in coordination with 21 smaller political parties, formed the Federal Democratic Republic Alliance in 2012 August. The coalition’s stated aim was to establish a “constitution with federalism, and federalism with identity.” This alliance was set up after the demise of the first CA, without the two main political parties, NC and UML. Their absence constrained consensus and again slowed the process of government formation. Proposals for ethnic federalism and the territorial decentralization of power were the most divisive issue in Nepal in the run-up to the 2013 electoral process.32 As political positions hardened around identity lines, the second round of CA elections was viewed as a “referendum on federalism.”33 This was due to the fact that deadlock on the debate around federalism was the main causes behind the dissolution of the former CA. The dissolution of the CA triggered violent protests between the Tharu and the Bhramin, Chhetri, and Dasnami Samaj and forced a month long closure of all business and services in the Far Western Region. Other areas of the country also saw sporadic protests in different regions with demands ranging from the structuring of the state along ethnic boundaries to a complete negation of federalism as a model for state restructuring. Within the federalism debate, the politics of naming of states also became very 198 S. BOGATI ET AL. contentious, especially among indigenous groups. Naming is a key symbol in the process of state formation, and disagreements over names for provincial territories contributed to deepening of inter-ethnic fault lines. Overall, analysts of the dissolution of the CA in 2012 claim that, “political party leadership was not ready for higher level of organization and new demands that came when indigenous parties gained skills and brought new agendas to the CA.”34 In other words, the demand for consensus was problematic, the constitution process was “hijacked” by the Maoist leadership, as “emotional stakes too high, egos got in the way, and time ran out.” 35 The inclusion agenda made constitutional consensus very difficult to attain. It instituted a need for a very high level of agreement among a very diverse set of groups, for all decisions. The 2008–2012 CA could have been the forum for redefining social relationships and building social cohesion, but that did not happen.

INTERNATIONAL PEACEBUILDING PROGRAMMING FOR SOCIAL COHESION Nepal, with its beautiful natural context and complex, if conflicted, society has been described by some as a “development wonderland” for international organizations seeking to aid the peace process and promote development and human security. As of December 2012, multiple development partners had pledged assistance worth USD185 million (165 million as grants and 20 million as loans) for the implementation of various development plans and programs over the course of five years. In particular, the Nepal Peace Trust Fund (NPTF) is a basket fund housing donor resources from Denmark, the European Union, Germany, the United States, the United Kingdom, Norway, Switzerland and Finland. The fund provides strategic directions and through a rigorous process approves projects with peacebuilding impact. As of 2013, there are 55 NPTF projects with overt objectives of consolidating peace and facilitating reconstruction of the infrastructures destroyed during the conflict.36 The United Nations also has a similar funding mechanism, known as the United Nations Peace Fund for Nepal (UNPFN). While the NPTF finances project proposals submitted and conducted by the Government Ministries, the UNPFN supports projects fielded by the UN agencies. Rigorous evaluation and approval of all the projects submitted to the NPTF as well as UNPFN is participatory and both bodies are represented in the evaluation and awarding of the projects. So far, the NEPAL: IDENTITY POLITICS IN A TURBULENT TRANSITION 199

NPTF and UNPFN have spent 163 million and USD8 million respectively,37 for various peacebuilding projects across the country. Various donor-supported programs to foster social cohesion to consolidate peace in Nepal, in ideal terms, operate through the so-called “networked modes of post crisis governance.”38 In other words, for UN actors, the pursuit of “social cohesion” in Nepal comes through efforts designed to strengthen of Nepal’s “peace architecture.” At the same time, according to respondents working to build this architectures, there is a major deﬁcit in coordination among such a diverse array of donors and external interests. This, therefore, results in the overall intervention being a complex mix of indirect and direct, networked and non-networked policies and programs. Under these conditions, among donors, the social cohesion theme has become the “debate about the debate.” In other words, there is no consensus about the concept among donors and a high level of variation about the concept itself and how it applies to the Nepal case.39

UN PROGRAMMING RELATED TO SOCIAL COHESION In addition to the various programs that have a direct aim of promoting social cohesion, the interlinked areas of the promotion of democratic governance and crisis prevention have received adequate attention from multilateral development partners such as the United Nations Development Program (UNDP). The UNDP’s Peace Building and Recovery Unit in Nepal shares a project on Conflict Sensitivity with the United Nations Children’s Fund (UNICEF) and the UN Resident Coordinator’sOffice. The project works to mainstream conflict sensitivity into programming of UN and also establishes strategic partnership with the Government in Nepal to incorporate Conflict Sensitivity as part of the curriculum of the National Administrative Staff College (NASC) – a training institute for all the officers joining Nepal’s political bureaucracy. The aim is to train all the administrative staff passing through NASC in “conflict sensitive and Do No Harm” approaches to development. The establishment of conflict sensitivity and do no harm approach as a major evaluation criteria for all the projects competing for UNPFN funding is one of the major accomplishments for the project. More specifically, UN country-level programmatic priorities for 2010–2011 sought to “catalyze progress on the long-term structural transformation agenda embedded in the 2006 CPA,” employing various strategies for fostering social cohesion.40 For example, during the CA 200 S. BOGATI ET AL. period the Center for Constitutional Dialogue, led by the UNDP but also supported by bilateral donors, held 4,627 democratic dialogues in 3,915 villages and all 240 constituencies in Nepal, reaching 259,708 citizens.41 They engaged with a number of grass root level NGOs, some of which had an ethnic basis,42 and were criticized for it. However, the results in terms of raising awareness among citizens with regard to constitution building process were praised. The Local Governance and Community Development Program (LGCDP) works with Nepal’s Ministry of Local Development in all the development regions of the country. It made inclusion a major criterion for access to local development resources, and issued block grants for local development work and earmarks percentage of the funds for the activities related to women, disabled, marginalized castes, and ethnicities. In the same way, the UNDP’s Livelihood Recovery for Peace Program worked with the most marginalized and vulnerable groups in three districts of the Tarai region. While a specific focus on marginalized castes and ethnicities has been criticized from the Do No Harm (DNH) angle, as many people belonging to the so-called higher castes also remain under the poverty line, the positive impact of these projects in creating a more level playing field for the poorest, according to practitioners involved in the program, should not be underestimated. The UNDP’s Peace Building and Recovery Unit, in terms of general peacebuilding practice, takes a two-pronged approach. On the one hand, it provides support to the immediate maintenance of peace and its long- term consolidation in the post-conflict scenario. Its current peacebuilding and violence prevention programs can be divided into short-term programs to dispel potential violence, medium-term programs to pacify and ensure the constructive engagement of the potential spoilers in development and peacebuilding efforts, and long-term engagement that aims to bring about behavioral change and incorporate a socio-political culture of collaboration, dialogue, and search for common ground as opposed to debates and confrontation in relation to peace and security. A unique example of a program designed to foster attitudinal change among political elites is the Collaborative Leadership and Dialogue Program. This project, in the Nepal case, has a long-term, transformative agenda. It seeks attitudinal and skill change among key leaders in three groups: political parties, the state, and civil society. The project brings national level political, bureaucratic, and civil society stakeholders together to have dialogues on pressing issues and formulate a common ground to NEPAL: IDENTITY POLITICS IN A TURBULENT TRANSITION 201 address the issues. It also engages with interreligious dialogue groups with an aim to equip participants with skills to prevent conflict through dialogue. The long-term aim is to develop a “culture of dialogue and constructive engagement” rather than debates based on zero sum games. It engages primarily with second tier leadership of the major political parties, rather than dominant party elites, as well as the media and civil society organizations on a regular basis. The UNICEF is supporting community dialogues in areas where rehabilitation of Verified Minors and Late Recruits (VMLRs) have taken place. Some other the UNICEF programs with implications on social cohesion are its work with the Children Associated with Armed Forces and Armed Groups where they delivered comprehensive activities and services to children associated with armed groups and armed forces. The UNICEF, The United Nations Entity for Gender Equality and the Empowerment of Women (UNWOMEN), and The United Nations Population Fund (UNFPA) partnership in the Paralegal Committee Program (with 4,000 village level paralegal committees spread across Nepal) was hailed as a very strong grassroots level program to address violence against women and promote their access to justice. The Government has recently taken ownership of the program. The UNICEF promotes the “meaningful participation of civil society organizations”43 in dialogue over state-level local legal reforms and child protection programming.

BILATERAL DEVELOPMENT PARTNERS Bilateral development partners, working alone and in tandem (often with the UNDP), also have had active programs to promote social cohesion in Nepal. For example, the Danish International Development Agency (DANIDA) works in Nepal with 19 local partners from National Human Rights Commission, Human Rights defenders, Dalit and women empowerment, and land rights forums on programs ranging from issues of human rights to land rights and water sanitation. From the perspective of social cohesion, the DANIDA programs of most relevance are community mediation projects that aim to resolve conﬂict locally. Despite the immediate tension that projects may create by the empowerment of marginalized groups, DANIDA considers them a part of long-term peacebuilding initiatives and pushes them forward.44 An example of such programs is the DANIDA Human Rights and Good Governance Advisory Unit (HUGOU) funded project on social cohesion 202 S. BOGATI ET AL. in Sunsari, Morang, Mahottari and Sarlahi. The project organizes dialogues in an inclusive group of 30 participants involving people from different age group and ethnic dimensions. The dialogues focus on issues of strengths and problems of their particular society, and explore what binds them together. Though people refused to talk to each other during initial programs, overall the dialogue has seen progress in developing a shared vision of common destiny in the intervening years.45 Switzerland supported programs that raised the awareness of federalism in different parts of the country. However, they are wary of the intricate linkages between ethnicity and identity, which complicate the issue further. The Swiss work on facilitation and mediation programs, constitutional issues, support to department of political affairs at UN in Nepal, and national security policy through the Geneva Centre for the Democratic Control of Armed Forces. They also work with Nepal Transition to Peace initiative, which targets second tier of political parties.46 At this point in Nepal’s transition, there is a very clear understanding among all the different stakeholders that the creation of a level playing ﬁeld for all of Nepal’s diverse population groups through social inclusion and collaboration will lead to long-term social cohesion in Nepal. However, such an effort to reverse the deeply embedded power structure is not an easy task. Anticipation of resentment from political elites has not deterred some of the development partners who continue to endorse programs with an overt agenda of socio-political and economic empowerment of the marginalized people through direct support to identity-based organizations.

DIRECT APPROACHES TO SOCIAL COHESION Faith-inspired organizations like the Interreligious Dialogue Group and Interreligious Peace Council in Nepal have the potential for engaging in peacebuilding and development, but so far, they have no direct access to state funding.47 Even though religious actors were not directly brought into the peace process, they organized organically to speak into the process. According to the respondents, in the transitional context, the most signiﬁcant action that inter-religious dialogue can provide is a means to build preventive networks that can help prevent political manipulation of religious tensions that may render a blow to social harmony and cohesion.48 In such instances, inter-religious leaders play a key role in pacify initial tensions.49 NEPAL: IDENTITY POLITICS IN A TURBULENT TRANSITION 203

There is a strong sense that the UN aims to achieve greater levels of subjective social trust and cooperation through such mechanisms as capacity-building programs for marginalized groups and locally operated, inclusive needs-based assessments. They place a large emphasis on information gathering that accurately reflects social divisions. The UN’s objectives assume that greater inclusivity in the very processes of local governance and institutional development will foster greater horizontal cohesion. In other words, the UN approaches to building social cohesion operate under the assumption that good governance will smooth social disparities, foster greater cooperation, and indirectly shape a larger sense of national identity. As such, UN programs in Nepal are designed to foster greater participation in governance for previously excluded groups. This dimension introduces a significant dilemma. With high levels of ethnic and caste division in Nepal, a local-based governance strategy could reinforce sub-national social group identity, which could limit inter- group alliance formation and increase the depth and breadth of social cleavages. To address this dilemma, the LGCDP promote “extending the state” to promote social cohesion. Its local governance policy reform process aims at fostering cross-cutting local participation in governance, and extending governance in the hinterlands.50 The key to the process is the furthering of the inclusion agenda, through formalized quotas for structure of leadership and participation in Village Development Committees (VDCs), at the local level. In particular, the LGCDP promotes inclusion in local representation as a condition to receive block grants.51 Additionally, principles of gender equality and social inclusion guide local policy-making processes. “Social mobilizers” are hired to mobilize most vulnerable groups to ensure that they participate in local governance. The focus on creating dialogue processes that bridge social divisions via leaders are politically sensitive – as these types of programs empower and bring new political actors onto the scene. For example, the establishment of the Ministry of Peace and Reconstruction has been problematic in the Nepal case. When it became a “ministry” rather than a “commission,” it initially became a tool for political appointment (patronage), and was no longer inclusive. Many respondents reported that the formal Ministry of Peace and Reconciliation has done very little to support necessary reforms across the larger peace architectures. One of the key problems is that many IOs had to continue to support 204 S. BOGATI ET AL. this “flawed state apparatus” in order to maintain connection to key political elites, even though their programming tended to largely “circumvent the state.”52

INDIRECT APPROACHES:SOCIAL COHESION THROUGH ECONOMIC EMPOWERMENT Development actors in Nepal are acutely aware that all development activities should be “conflict sensitive.” As well, they have also debated the ways and means of creating opportunities of economic development to foster economic interdependence among different groups, which can prove effective in promoting social cohesion. Swiss support to Hydro Power projects, for example, has had an explicit purpose of assisting the development of “cooperative interdependencies” along the river catch- ment and downstream basins as a means of developing collaborative skills for public-policy design and implementation.53 Similarly, the World Bank supports Micro Hydro Projects that work on a benefit-sharing mode by building a rapport with the community. The Bank uses a “sustainable infrastructures” approach in Nepal, prioritizing equitable profit sharing schemes and impact mitigation strategies to help ensure large-scale economic development projects that do not harm some groups more than others.54 The DANIDA’s “social families approach” uses an empowerment approach, aiming to extend rights protected by the state (vertical), such as land rights, women’s rights, or water sanitation. To DANIDA, “linking horizontal and vertical engagements is the key to sustainable peacebuilding and development.”55 This complex approach requires sophisticated joint analysis and flexible program design. This means it is easily undermined by poor donor coordination and donor-state coordination. The World Bank attempts to fill some of these gaps through conflict sensitive program design and “peace filters,” for “social advancement funding processes.”56 As important as it is to maintain equality in order to prevent social conflict and protect development gains, this is a very difficult goal in the complex socio-economic and political landscape of Nepal. While most development actors have programs that have directly or indirectly adopted the goal of “conflict sensitivity,” inclusion, conducting local dialogues and achieving inter-group collaboration that truly transcends the multiple layers of social, ethnic, and political grievances remain difficult goals. NEPAL: IDENTITY POLITICS IN A TURBULENT TRANSITION 205

The international donor community is clearly working to redress the root causes and efforts to mend the disrupted social fabric through development and peacebuilding programming. The clear view of peacebuilding practitioners and development partners is that domestic politics always has the ability to derail even the best designed plans.

FOMENTING DIVISION OR FOSTERING PEACE? The discourse on state restructuring – and equal status to be accorded to different castes, ethnicities, religion, region and languages and the possibility of priority rights to dominant ethnic groups – was an unsettling experience for Nepal’s entrenched ruling elites but also for citizens. Given the social divisions that thrived following the Madhesh movement and escalating ethnic politics in the hills, political victory of the so-called radical agenda, and ensuing political instability leading to the failure to deliver the constitution, a strong sense of resentment also formed toward the international actors who monitored or provided peacebuilding support based on the provisions of the CPA. There is a strong view among some Nepali scholars and political analysts that international donors, to some extent, inadvertently fueled Nepal’s instability and social discord by supporting inherently divisive agendas, particularly the progressive agenda of inclusion and participation. In the prolonged Nepali transition, development partners and donors are often accused of misplaced priorities by groups on all sides of the political spectrum. In Nepal, donors are regularly accused of trying to impose development practices and notions unsuitable to the Nepalese socio-political context, and being confined to the district headquarters without reaching out to the most vulnerable. Their involvement in the inclusion agenda has been criticized for being superficial and damaging to the social context of Nepal, which had a long history of social tolerance and harmony.57 On the other hand, donors are accused of weakening the state. In their efforts to support civil society and gain quick impact, some argue that donors play a role in weakening the legitimacy of the state apparatus, which may be unfortunate in a country trying to emerge from conflict.58 Moreover, Nepal’s civil society groups are far from neutral. Most of the NGOs are politically affiliated and the agendas are driven according to political ideology or identity group mobilization.59 This prevents donor organizations working to allocate peacebuilding funds and support on-the-ground programming from operating as neutral 206 S. BOGATI ET AL. actors. They inevitably align with particular partner organizations to maintain high “burn rates.” Donors are also maligned by Nepali political actors for bypassing the state. Given the civil society’s positive track record in advocacy and human rights awareness, and the delivery pressures that the donors work under as part of their project-based work structure, donors often find it easier to work with local NGOs or hire external technical specialists rather than the Government of Nepal. This concern relates to criticisms of donor approaches to capacity development in Nepal. Donors often enlist external topical or thematic experts, who do not have extensive local expertise. Civil society actors are often viewed as more accountable, but, in such arrangements, “the state may get weaker as NGO’s get stronger and hire capable people we need to be in the government.”60 The risk associated with the problem of “parallelism” with international donors fulfilling same functions as the state is an ever-present concern for many critical donors, including the UNICEF.61 Donors in Nepal are also criticized that most of those that directly benefit from aid targeted at promoting social cohesion tend to be elites who benefit from “capacity building” and thus become “gatekeepers” for aid such that it does not flow to the most marginalized groups; such skills may help ethnically motivated elites to further mobilize.62 Similarly, another major allegation against international actors is that they promote “inclusion” in words only (Hangen and Lawoti 2013). This is the case because access to resources and education has translated into the fact that the Caste High Hindu Elites (CHHE) possess the relevant education and skill sets in demand from development organizations (Lawoti 2013).

GREAT INTENTIONS,WEAK DEEDS The CPA signed between the SPA and the CPN-M in November 2006, and the three-year plan following it, were nationally crafted documents, with a very clear focus on correcting the past wrongs of exclusion, marginalization, and regional development deﬁcit to address the underlying issues that could perpetuate grievances. However, as the transition was prolonged, commitments weakened. If the pushback faced by some of the bilateral and multilateral bodies for their efforts to change the socio-cultural power dynamics is an indicator, then the prolonged transition increased the risk of reversals in the early progressive policy changes. NEPAL: IDENTITY POLITICS IN A TURBULENT TRANSITION 207

In this political context, the UN in Nepal suffered from pushback during the country assessment preceding the process of development of the United Nations Development Assistance Framework (2013–2017). It was claimed that efforts to ensure coherence on some issues and speciﬁc focus on some target groups may actually lead to further divisions in the society. The UN was not alone in this critique. Bilateral donors were also criticized for fermenting ethnic tensions in Nepal. According to this view, donors need to play a part to push for nationalistic agenda rather than contributing to the hardening of individual stances around ethnic differences.63 Development policy making in Nepal, therefore, is shaped by two contradictory processes: (1) a democratic process which requires development policies to be mandated by the people of Nepal, and (2) the imperatives of foreign aid delivery which is governed by the demands and norms of the aid system as it operates domestically and internationally. The two processes are often in conﬂict, causing contradictions and incompatibility and aggravating progress in the management of peacebuilding programming (Tamang 2011). For example, many dialogue programs promoting social cohesion lack sustained funding for the follow-up actions so they are considered unsustainable.64

PROJECTS WITHOUT CONTEXTUALIZATION A major line of allegation against the donors is that they ignored a centuries old culture of the country and made efforts to introduce cos- metic changes. Huge amounts of donor funding that entered Nepal after 1991 ignored the centuries old Nepalese history and culture and focused on the short-term need to initiate, implement, and exit a project within a certain window of time. In doing so, they sowed the seeds of discord in the society (Tamang 2011). Under organizational pressures to deliver, donors may be unable to get to the crux of the problem and may end up introducing only superficial reforms.65 The project mentality is constrain- ing as the projects prioritize short-term outputs over long-term changes.66 For example, the staffing pattern and a calculation of per capita aid disbursement and the recipients of aid would give away the superficiality of the donor agenda of inclusion, which is confined to sloganeering. The allegation regarding contextual ignorance of the donors argues that donors tend to focus on rights-based development without high- lighting corresponding duties. Donors many need to better understand 208 S. BOGATI ET AL. political developments and the corresponding consequences for their investments.67 From this perspective, donors should work with multi- faith organizations and focus on strengthening domestic institutions like VDCs’ District Development Committees and municipalities. These are the institutions in Nepal where there is a high level of local participation. Some commentators, therefore, argue that is better for donors to work with traditional organizations like Guthi, Panchayat, and Badghar, as these organizations have deeper roots in the society than NGOs, which still remain a foreign organizational structure for many Nepali communities.68 There have been efforts to rectify these issues through adoption of different measures in the Nepal case. UN agencies, bilateral aid agencies, international financial institutions, and non-government organizations all collaborated to develop a carefully articulated Nepal Peace and Development Strategy (PDS 2010–2015). The strategy outlines the ways in which the development partners can collaborate to assist Nepal in realizing the progressive agenda of the CPA.69 Basic Operating Guidelines were established to try to help international actors overcome some of the aforementioned problems, and agreed to by the UN agencies and 11 main development partners. This set of guidelines was published and disseminated among practitioners and the signatories.70

SEEING BEYOND AID DILEMMAS When it comes to donor efforts to promote social cohesion in countries divided along ethnic, religious, sectarian lines, Nepal, indeed, has been a unique laboratory.71 Most donors readily acknowledge that knowledge of the conflict context, awareness of societal and economic conditions, and a neutral development outlook are essential prerequisites for acceptance of engagement.72 At the same time, donors are generally risk averse. Despite allegations of their being too interventionist for transformation – or in support of the status quo – they are often reluctant to enter into the most socially contentious issues (such as transformation of the caste system), where their assistance may actually be more effective in fostering a new sense of social cohesion in Nepal.73 Thus, efforts to foster social cohesion through development assistance are beset by a dilemma. As Nepal itself undergoes significant social, economic, and governance transformations, donors must seek to tread lightly in the spirit of “local ownership,” while at the same time NEPAL: IDENTITY POLITICS IN A TURBULENT TRANSITION 209 undertaking significant efforts to transform society into a more sustainable, just, and thus peaceful social contract. In the turbulence of the transition, donors tend to bypass the state in order to address the needs of most vulnerable, but, in this, they often fail to develop state capacity to meet those needs in the long run. A key question that remains unan- swered, therefore, is how does circumventing the state affect the longer- term imperative of strengthening the state to be more inclusive, responsive, and resilient? Seeing beyond this dilemma is a matter of context assessment, balance, and, over time, shifting the nature of investment toward reforming and empowering the state. There is likely little to be done in this regard until Nepal is able to move beyond administration by caretaker governments, or until there is meaningful reform and reconsidera- tion of local and decentralized government. However, more collective action, coordination, and thinking about how international community can be effective during a time of political transition could make a significant difference. Focusing on social cohesion, however, is part of seeing, over time, the evolution of a stronger and more capable state in Nepal. Already, there is a high level of diffusion of the concept of social cohesion across a large network of developing governance structures in Nepal. However, there are deep challenges encountered in ensuring these networks actually foster cohesion as a foundation for larger peacebuilding and development outcomes. Thus, there is a need for improved local, endogenous policy innovation on ways to promote social cohesion until the new CA codifies new rules of the political game, acceptable to all and the time needed for a long-term reform of public administration. Donors must also address problems with the level of analysis. With a hierarchical political system in Nepal, working with grassroots actors means working with agents that have no political power, and “empowering” these groups means encountering the power of elites who have access to the state. Thus, donors need to be aware that there are advantages, and trade-offs, to circumventing the state and “going directly to the people” (Guthis or local trusts; Panchayats) or that supporting religious systems that provide local services to the vulnerable is a risk worth taking for international development actors. Fostering social cohesion in transitioning Nepal does require a very long-term perspective. Indeed, there is now some retrospective thinking that it was in fact a good thing that the first effort at a CA was not successful. Nepalis, and the international 210 S. BOGATI ET AL. community alike, needed much more time to re-imagine society and to transform the state. With major setbacks of the 2015 earthquake and the escalation of conflict around in the Tarai region related to the new constitution, the process of transformation has no clear end in sight.

NOTES 1. Ministry of Peace and Reconstruction and BBC News, Nepal Raises Death Toll, accessible at: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/8268651.stm, last accessed on December 1, 2013. 2. Kiran Pun, “Ex-Maoist Combatants Join NA,” My Republica, Web edition, November 22, 2012, http://www.myrepublica.com/portal/index.php/ news_images/news_rss.php?action=news_details&news_id=45221,accessed on December 11, 2013. 3. Census 2012. 4. CK Lal, Interview with the authors, December 2013. 5. Joint Evaluation of the International Support to the Peace Process in Nepal 2006–2012. 6. Interview with the authors, December 6, 2012. 7. The Panchayat system was a non-party system of councils known as “Panchayat.” The King exercised sole power and nominated people to the upper house as the representatives to the lower house were elected. 8. Anne De Sales 2003.Seealso,O.SkarHerald,“The Myths of Origin: The Janajati Movement, Local Traditions, Nationalism and Identities in Nepal,” Contributions to Nepalese Studies 22, no. 1 (January 1995) accessible at: http://www.mtnforum.org/sites/default/ﬁles/publication/ ﬁles/6846.pdf. 9. Interview with the authors. 10. Ibid 11. Ibid., 61. 12. See Dor Bahadur Bista, “Fatalism and Development: Nepal’s Struggle for Modernization,” 1990. 13. Focus group discussion with the Interfaith Council of Nepal. 14. Interview with the authors. 15. Ibid. 16. Rajendra Maharjan, “Rastriya Ekikaranko Punarkhoj,” in “The Dimensions of Social Good Will” NEMAF 2013. See also, Kalyan Bhakta Mathema, Madheshi Uprising: The Resurgence of Ethnicity (Kathmandu: Mandala Book Point, 2011). See, Tiwari Ruhi and Anirudh Prasad Sah, eds., The Landscape of Madhesh: Politics, Society and Economy of the Plains (Kathmandu: Nepal Madhesh Foundation, 2012). NEPAL: IDENTITY POLITICS IN A TURBULENT TRANSITION 211

17. Interview with the authors. 18. Lai Ming Lam, “Land, Livelihood and the Rana Tharu Identity,” http:// myrepublica.com/portal/index.php?action=news_details&news_id= 63530. 19. Sanskritization denotes the process by which castes placed lower in the caste hierarchy seek upward mobility by emulating the rituals and practices of the upper castes. 20. This analysis arose in interviews with Mie Rosendahl, Krishna Hachchetu, and Martin Stutzinger. 21. The Characteristics of Dalit Intellectuals, Kantipur National Daily, Monday, November 18, 2013. 22. Shakya Mallika, “Nepali Economic History Through the Ethnic Lens: Changing State Alliances with Business Elites,” in Nationalism and Ethnic Conﬂict in Nepal: Identities Mobilization After 1990, eds., Mahendra Lawoti and Susan Hangen (London, Routledge, 2013). 23. Maharjan Rajendra, “Adhyayan” (Studies), Year 1, No. 1 (Kathmandu: Nepal Madhesh Foundation, 2013). 24. Mahendra Lawoti and Anup K. Pahari, The Maoist Insurgency in Nepal: Revolution in the Twenty-First Century (New York: Routledge, 2010). 25. Prashant Jha, “Why India Must Speak Up Strongly on Nepal,” The Hindustan Times, Web edition September 13, 2015, http://www.hindus tantimes.com/analysis/why-india-must-speak-up-strongly-on-nepal/story- M3GXPzzHnxD0IlgBnwzhCI.html. 26. Interview with the authors, December 2013. 27. Ibid. 28. Ibid. 29. See, Bray et al. 2003. 30. Interview with the authors, December 2013. 31. Kiran, “Ex-Maoist Combatants Join NA.” 32. Interviews with the authors, December 2013. 33. Ibid. 34. Ibid. 35. Ibid. 36. Interview with Dharnidhar Koirala, the Secretary of the Ministry of Peace and Reconstruction, Spotlight 6, no. 18 (March 8, 2013). Accessible at: http:// www.spotlightnepal.com/News/Article/Ministry-Building-Peace-Khatiwada- 37. Report at: http://www.nptf.gov.np/userﬁles/16%20Progress%20Report% 20_31%20December%202012.pdf. 38. Interview with the authors, December 13, 2013. 39. Ibid., December 7, 2013. 40. UN, “United Nations Development Assistance Framework for Nepal (2008–2010)” (UN Nepal Information Platform, July 2011), 14, 212 S. BOGATI ET AL.

http://www.un.org.np/report/united-nations-development-assistance- framework-nepal-2008-2010-%E2%80%93-evaluation-report. 41. UNDP, Assessment of Development Results: Evaluation of UNDP Contribution in Nepal (Kathmandu: UNDP Nepal, 2012). 42. Interviews with the authors, December 2013. 43. Ibid. 44. Ibid. 45. Ibid. 46. Ibid. 47. Ibid. 48. Religious Leaders dialogue/focus group, December 4, 2012; Interview with the authors, December 2013. 49. Interview with the authors, December 2013. 50. Interview with the authors and Report on LGCDP 2012. 51. Interview with the authors, December 2013. 52. Ibid. 53. Ibid. 54. Ibid. 55. Ibid. 56. Ibid. 57. Ibid. 58. Ibid. 59. Ibid. 60. Ibid. 61. Ibid. 62. Ibid. 63. Ibid. 64. Ibid. 65. Ibid. 66. Ibid. 67. Ibid. 68. Ibid. 69. Later though, the bilateral aid agencies did not use the PDS. Joint Evaluation of the International Support to the Peace Process in Nepal. 70. Including the European Commission, Danish International Development Assistance (DANIDA), UK AID from the Department for International Development, Swiss Agency for Development Cooperation (SDC) and the Embassy of Switzerland in Nepal, Netherlands Development Organization (SNV), Australian Aid, Norwegian Embassy, GIZ, Embassy of Finland, Canadian International Development Agency NEPAL: IDENTITY POLITICS IN A TURBULENT TRANSITION 213

(CIDA), Japan International Cooperation Agency (JICA) and the Association of International NGOs in Nepal (AIN). 71. Interview with the authors, December 2013. 72. Ibid. 73. Ibid.

Subindra Bogati is the Founder/Chief Executive of the Nepal Peacebuilding Initiative, with broad experience working on conﬂict transformation and peace process in Nepal through various national and international organizations. He was a Chevening Fellow at the University of Birmingham on democracy, rule of law, and security in 2009, and has MA in International Relations from London Metropolitan University.

Sachchi Karki worked as a Program Analyst at the United Nations Development Program in Nepal, Kathmandu, Nepal. She holds an MA with a specialization in International Human Rights from the Korbel School of International Studies, University of Denver.

Timothy D. Sisk is Professor of International and Comparative Politics and Associate Dean for Research at the Josef Korbel School of International Studies, University of Denver; he is an associate fellow of the Sié Center and of the Geneva Center for Security Policy, as well as an occasional consultancy advisor to the United Nations Development Program Bureau for Crisis Prevention and Recovery. CHAPTER 8

Nigeria: Frustration, Polarization, and Violence

Yahaya Hashim, Darren Kew and Judith Ann Walker

Global outrage at the abduction of over 250 girls from the tiny Nigerian village of Chibok in April 2014 brought offers of assistance from countries poles apart on the democratic divide, and united women and men worldwide as they posed behind #Bring Back our Girls banners – including celebrities like US First Lady Michelle Obama. In Nigeria, however, the abductions and the campaign to bring the girls back exempliﬁed a polarized civil society and inﬂamed ethno-religious sentiments. Some religious groups aligned with the then government that framed the incident as a religious crime of Christian girls abducted for purposes of forced conversion to Islam. While much of the global coverage of the Chibok girls incident revolved around discourses of gender-based violence, war crimes, the right to education, and the responsibility of the state to guarantee human security, within Nigeria, analysts struggled to rebut the prevailing

Y. Hashim (*) Á J.A. Walker development Research and Projects Centre (dRPC), Kano, Nigeria e-mail: [email protected] D. Kew University of Massachusetts, Boston, MA, USA e-mail: [email protected]

© The Author(s) 2017 215 F.D. Cox, T.D. Sisk (eds.), Peacebuilding in Deeply Divided Societies, Rethinking Political Violence, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-50715-6_8 216 Y. HASHIM ET AL. religious conversion hypothesis and to keep their commentary within a fundamental human rights framing. The chief proponent of the abduction for Islamization hypothesis, the Christian Association of Nigeria (CAN), succeeded in shifting the conversation from focusing on the government’s failure to provide security and its responsibility to bring back the girls to, instead, a debate over the girls’ religion as the reason for their abduction by publicizing ofﬁcial data on the names and religious afﬁliation of the girls. It is against this background that the press statement by the Northern wing of CAN should be seen:

Since the abduction of these girls over two weeks ago, has Borno State Governor, Alhaji Kashim Shettima, constituted any panel of investigation with a view to making its report public? ...Why did the Borno State Commissioner for Education, Principal, Vice Principal and Chief Security Ofﬁcer, all Muslims, ignore the valid advice of WAEC [the West African Education Council] on the security implications of writing exams in the school and the need to have a center where the children’s life will be secured? ...Because Chibok is a predominantly Christian area. ... The abduction of these girls seems a resurrection of what the Christian communities in Northern Nigeria have been suffering for centuries in the hands of the Emirs and Imams regarding forceful conversion and abduction of Christian girls. ... There is a limit to which Christians would tolerate all these abnormalities ...there is more to it and this is the position of Northern CAN.1

Despite the fact that some of the abducted Chibok girls were Muslims and that Chibok community leaders have publicly stated that religion should be left out of the issue, Northern CAN has not renounced these early positions. Moreover, CAN’s subsequent statements went on to lend credence to anti-Christian conspiracy theories spread abundantly by the political circles of the administration of then President Goodluck Jonathan. The rapid polarization along religious lines of the Chibok kidnappings demonstrates the new and complex impact of social cohesion in Nigeria. Without a doubt, religion has always been a central feature of social life in Nigeria and the polities that preceded it. For the first 40 years after Nigerian independence in 1960, however, ethnicity was far more the driving factor in political mobilization, and one of the chief contributors to the nation’s collapse into civil war along ethnic lines from 1967 to 1970. Thereafter, Nigerian stability was predicated upon the slow NIGERIA: FRUSTRATION, POLARIZATION, AND VIOLENCE 217 development of an informal ethnic rotation principle, which has been the bedrock consensus upon which the nation’s elites have bargained since the return to civilian rule in 1999. Since the 1990s, however, religion has taken on a more central role in politics and been a more explosive force in social upheavals. Whereas, in the past, religion’s social impact was filtered through an ethnic prism, today’s Nigeria is seeing more instances of the reverse happening, with ethnic groups being subsumed under a larger religious political identity of a Muslim North or a Christian South, or in other instances, of religion standing relatively alone as a driver of conflicts. By no means has ethnicity lost its prime position in the nation’s politics overall, but religion is clearly now a growing divide over which the unity of the nation is increasingly stretched. This chapter reviews this complex interplay of religion in Nigerian society, and assesses its changing impact on social cohesion. We review religion’s overlapping boundaries with the political, economic, and ethnic sectors of society, and pay special attention to the role that civil society actors and foreign donors have played in seeking to mend divides and foster greater social cohesion. We conclude that social cohesion in Nigeria will suffer tremendous strain, if not collapse, if religion continues to evolve toward a bipolar, Muslim-Christian political identity that overlays a developing two-party system. Yet we also note the many ways that religion can also be a unifying force, especially if civil society and political actors are able to bridge inter-religious divides, assist in pluralizing intra-religious conversations and giving voice to moderates, and provide political, social, and economic alternatives to religious extremist solutions to Nigeria’s deep corruption and poverty.

ASHORT HISTORY OF THE ETHNIC SECURITY DILEMMA IN NIGERIA The most deﬁning historical characteristic of Nigeria is its arbitrary nature. Created in 1914 by administrative ﬁat by the British, Nigeria as a political entity lumped together over 200 different ethnic groups, speaking many different languages and living under dozens of different governing entities, and brought them together as determined solely by the limits of where British interests ended and French ones began. Not surprisingly, as the country approached independence, other identities than “Nigerianness” or economic ideology took precedence. Rather, politicians quickly organized around the most salient subnational social structures – ethnicity. 218 Y. HASHIM ET AL.

To some extent, the British can be seen as responsible for the centrality of ethnic social categories. They organized their colony into three major units – which would later form the three-state federation of Nigeria at independence – based upon the homelands of the three largest ethnic groups in the country: the Hausa, the Yoruba, and the Igbo. Within these three regions, as they were called, local administrative units were also delineated based on ethnic and sub-ethnic territorial units. Altogether, this structure created a powerful incentive for the largest ethnic groups to organize political parties along ethnic lines in order to control their regions and lock out “immigrant” populations from other parts of Nigeria present there, and also to control minorities within the regions (Sklar 2004 [1963]; Diamond 1988). More than anything, however, fear of domination by other groups quickly accelerated the process of ethnic political organization and, ultimately, severe polarization. In a process known as the ethnic security dilemma,2 once politics comes to be viewed primarily through an ethnic lens, ethnic parties soon view public policy as a zero-sum struggle for control of power and positions in government, reinforcing ethnic political identities and creating rising incentives for each party to seek increasingly aggressive means to build its own power base (Kew 2005). As one ethnic party’s power grows, all the others grow more insecure (in the same fashion as Realist notions of security dilemmas), forcing them to seek to extend their power, leading to escalation and, ultimately, a cycle of reciprocally threatening actions that can lead to widespread violence and collapse. In this fashion, the three dominant political parties of Nigeria’s First Republic, its ﬁrst government at independence in 1960, were dominated by the Hausa, Yoruba, and Igbo ethnicities, who rapidly viewed each other as an existential threat and took increasingly desperate measures to gain control of the federal government. By 1966, the political system had dead- locked, prompting the parties to turn to the military for assistance, which instead seized power in a bloody series of coups that degenerated into civil warfrom1967to1970andperhapsasmanyastwomilliondeaths.

PAX PDP AND THE FOURTH REPUBLIC OLIGARCHY After the devastation of the civil war, the nation’s political elites took several important steps toward restoring national unity including, critically, expanding the number of units in the federal system, eventually to 36 states. This increased the number of centers of power over which NIGERIA: FRUSTRATION, POLARIZATION, AND VIOLENCE 219 political elites could compete, which in turn surfaced more divisions within the nation’s three largest ethnic groups and created more opportunities for Nigeria’s many minorities – a third of the population – to gain more autonomy over local affairs. This increase in the number of states along with new constitutional provisions requiring national representation broke the ethnic party structures of the 1960s into new alignments that were increasingly multiethnic. With more voices in the system and the unity of the big three groups diluted, the “iron frame” of the federal system has proven to be the essential element in preserving Nigerian unity and weakening the centrifugal forces of the ethnic security dilemma. The ethnically polarized politics of the 1960s gave way gradually to a more individualized political culture at the national level, in which elites had increasing flexibility to pursue their own agendas. This was supported by the development of an informal ethnic rotation principle (sometimes called “power shift”), such that major political offices were shifted across the country’s six geographical zones, providing a measure of predictability. At the same time, largely uninterrupted military rule from the 1970s through the 1990s utilized Nigeria’s massive oil revenues to co-opt elites nationwide, building vast patronage networks that incorporated key figures in nearly every community to varying degrees. In this sea of entrenched, systematic corruption, however, one perverse benefit emerged. Political elites quietly developed a political culture of bargaining, compromise, and partial settlement for losers – all greased with public monies. The ethnonationalist politics of the First (1960–1966) and, to some degree, the Second (1979–1983) Republics gave way to the politics of “settlement”–privileged access, payoffs, and bribery – that brought the political elite far closer together in their perspectives, lifestyles, and approaches to power than at any time in Nigeria’s history. Ethnicity remains the primary category of politics, and politicians still regularly “play the ethnic card,” but their loyalties are primarily to their own self-interests, and many show open disdain for their own constituents, not to speak of any conception of public or even ethnic good. Ideology became a matter mostly for academic debates – indeed, the same man wrote all the manifestos of the three largest parties in 1999, a sign that they stand for little but alliances of convenience among the competing oligarch networks. This “Rogues’ Peace” among elites and overseen by the People’s Democratic Party (PDP) has ironically made politics at the national level of the Fourth Republic the most stable of all Nigeria’s democratic 220 Y. HASHIM ET AL. experiments. Massive oil revenues have provided ample grist for the political machines of the PDP and, to a lesser extent, opposition parties, such that most major politicians have some measure of access to state largesse. The PDP has been particularly adept at co-opting leading opposition figures and keeping them from providing much resistance in the legislatures. In fact, the few times that the National Assembly has moved to impeach the president – never to complete the process – the proceedings were initiated by PDP members themselves. Consequently, major policy battles since 1999 at the national level have had less to do with zero-sum, system-breaking issues and far more with nitty-gritty matters of government contracts and resource distribution.

AT LAST,SOME MIDDLE-CLASS MUSCLE? The relative stability of the Rogues’ Peace has provided sufficient breath- ing room for the economy to make some progress, largely without a sustained development policy and reform package from the federal government. To their credit, the Obasanjo, Yar’Adua, and Jonathan administrations did create a number of pockets of reform that have contributed to economic progress in several areas. President Obasanjo paid off most of Nigeria’s crushing foreign debts in 2005, removing a massive drain from the budget, although the Jonathan administration again accrued debt.3 All three presidents named several reformist Central Bank Directors and Finance Ministers, who restructured the banking system, increased budget transparency, built (but often spent) healthy levels of foreign reserves, and kept the nation’s currency remarkably stable from 2000 to 2015, especially compared to the collapse of the Naira over 1980–2000. Annual Gross Domestic Product (GDP) growth averaged around 6% from 2003 to 2014, and around 3% in 2015 and 2016. Much of this growth has been led by the oil industry, but the non-oil sector grew over 8% annually from 2006 to 2008,4 and largely recovered from the 2008 global downturn by 2010. Telecommunications have been a particularly vibrant contributor to this growth, as the number of subscribers has skyrocketed from 588,000 in 2000 to over 88,300,000 in 2010, with US$18 billion invested in the industry in 2009 alone and accounting for 3.66% of GDP for that year.5 Consequently, although human development indicators have remained largely flat for most of the Fourth Republic, Nigeria’s middle-income earners have grown substantially since 2000 – perhapsaquarterofthe NIGERIA: FRUSTRATION, POLARIZATION, AND VIOLENCE 221 population by some estimates. The real size may, however, be much higher: per capita GDP has risen from $375 in 2000 to an estimated $1,597 in 2012, with the International Monetary Fund (IMF) conser- vatively expecting that number to rise to nearly $2,000 in 2016.6 Even accounting for the nation’s massive income disparities, with the richest 10% holding more than a third of the wealth,7 Nigeria’s hardworking middle class can claim a growing contribution to economic life. Nigeria’s service sector, where we are likely to find much of the middle class, has tripled in value since 2002. The major urban centers – particularly the Lagos-Ibadan corridor, Port Harcourt, and Abuja – abound with signs of entrepreneurship and small business expansion, despite the lack of government attention to infrastructure.

CHECKS AND IMBALANCES Perhaps the most important development since 1999 has been the growing strength of key institutions, although the presidency and governors remain the most powerful by far. Beyond the handful of impeachment moves, the National Assembly has gradually shown an inclination to claim its constitutional prerogatives, with a nascent system of executive oversight in place. During the crisis over President Yar’Adua’s incapacitation in 2009–2010, the Assembly made the watershed decision to declare Vice President Jonathan the Acting President, which underlined how far respect for constitutional governance has developed. The Assembly has yet, however, to take full control over its main source of leverage over the presidency – the budget – but efforts to set up a budgeting ofﬁce and other measures to assert its constitutional power of the purse are under consideration. The judiciary has also shown greater inclination to chart its own course, particularly the Supreme Court and appellate courts, having overturned numerous ﬂawed elections and taken decisions that occasionally check the power of the executives. After conducting farcical elections in 2007, the Independent National Electoral Commission has also seen its credibility rise under the leadership of the reformist Professor Attahiru Jega, who chaired the commission from 2010 to 2015. With only several months to prepare for the 2011 elections, Jega still managed to hold credible contests, and in 2015 conducted the cleanest elections so far held in the Fourth Republic, which allowed the opposition All Progressives Congress (APC) to win decisively 222 Y. HASHIM ET AL. over the PDP. Whether Jega’s successor can maintain his reforms remains to be seen, but local political machines continue to seek ways to subvert the process, such that efforts to rig elections continue.

END OF THE ROGUES’ PEACE? Doubtless, Nigeria has made significant progress under the Fourth Republic, often despite the ruinous behavior of many of its politicians. Without a sustained national effort at economic development and political reform, however, the Rogue’s Peace of the last 17 years always has been tenuous. Nigeria still ranks toward the bottom of the Mo Ibrahim governance index for Africa, at 37th out of 52 nations in 2014, behind Mali, Togo, and Ethiopia, and averaging well below the African average since 2000 when the index began.8 At the popular level, ethnic and religious divisions persist, and have in fact been exacerbated by elite accommodation at the national level. Communities have little or no direct access to federal funds, but are well aware of the bonanza of wealth enjoyed by elites at the federal level. This creates increased competition to enter or displace the patronage networks at local levels, in the hope of accessing whatever contracts or funds may trickle down. Since 1999, the federal government has faithfully released the disbursements it owes to the states and local governments, which amount to about half of government funds available. Both the state and local disbursements, however, are first sent to the state governors, giving them overwhelming leverage over any other political actor within their states. Consequently, the competition over governorships is brutal, and local political networks constantly struggle to control every local office they can. With many of the states providing little development policy, local disputes can quickly escalate to violence. Over 25,000 Nigerians have lost their lives in local political conflicts since 1999.

THE RISING ROLE OF RELIGION IN NIGERIA: FUNDAMENTAL FANATICISM Nigerians often tell the story of former President Obasanjo’sfamed response to a question about the religious breakdown of the country’s population: 50% are Muslim, 50% are Christian, and 100% are traditional African worshipers. His response captures the complexity of NIGERIA: FRUSTRATION, POLARIZATION, AND VIOLENCE 223 religion in Nigeria – it occupies a central position, but the tapestry of religion often defies easy analysis. Evidence from the Pew survey of religion in Sub-Saharan Africa demonstrates that, unlike Uganda, where religious conversion between Christian and Muslim populations is a feature, Nigerians exist in solid religious blocs with limited possibility of conversion. What this means for tolerance and understanding is an important question. The central place of religion in Nigeria is an issue that in recent years runs through most analysis of socio-economic and indeed political life of the country, joining ethnicity as a key factor explaining social phenomena. When ethnicity overlaps with analyses of religion, it is the dynamic, self- serving, and mobilizational quality of religion in the Nigerian context that gives it a powerful but dangerous value. The triumph of religion relates inversely to secularism and contributes to the political underdevelopment of the country. Moreover, the readiness and success of politicians and power constituencies to manipulate religion and to exploit the ways it overlaps with ethnicity further undermines the notion of the modern secular state embodied in the Constitution. Analysts such as Nigeria’s Nobel laureate Wole Soyinka blame successive governments, including the administration of President Olusegun Obasanjo, for making concessions to religious fanaticism, thereby undermining the secularity of the Nigerian constitution. Specifically, these critics point to the 1999–2001 period, when the 12 northernmost states in Nigeria implemented the Sharia criminal code. Previously, only the Sharia civil code was enforced, and was available only when all parties chose to use it in their case. After 1999, these 12 states, beginning with opposition governors looking for an issue to define their party apart from the ruling PDP, enforced the criminal portions of the code, including haddud punishments like amputation for thievery and stoning for adultery. Many Christians living in these states were outraged, and riots erupted in evenly divided states like Kaduna. President Obasanjo and other leaders urged political compromises, including assurances that the Sharia would not be enforced on Christians. These bargains restored calm, and the issue was barely raised in the 2003 elections or thereafter. Yet many critics remain concerned, particularly with the apparent affront to the constitution, which prohibits any state religion. In the words of Prof. Soyinka, “when the specter of Sharia first came up, for political reasons, this was allowed to hold, instead of the president defending the Constitution.”9 And this, he argues, is partly to blame for the later rise of the Boko Haram insurgency. 224 Y. HASHIM ET AL.

At the same time, advocates for the supremacy of religion raise important arguments that are supported by contemporary scholarship on religion as a catalyst for development. In Nigeria, advocates for religion in development are equally analytical in their denunciation of secularism. For example, in the 1977 debate of the Constituent Assembly on the Draft Constitution Bill, which created the framework upon which the Fourth Republic’s constitution would eventually be based, the delegate from Bodinga, Sokoto State, Alhaji Ibrahim Dasuki mounted the following challenge to secularism:

Why should we have such indiscipline? The answer, Mr. Chairman, from my point of view, is that we tried to ignore religion in our educational system. Without religion, people become materialistic. They think only in terms of material things. Therefore if we are really going to have a disciplined society, we must make sure in our educational arrangement that sufﬁcient instruction in religion is given. I am not saying instructions in any particular religion, but in all the religions that we practice in this country. ... Secular, by the interpretation I was made to understand, is having nothing to do with a particular religion. I think we are being hypocritical if we insist on this, Mr. Chairman. We have religions and these are being recognized. Even here [the National Assembly] when we came, we had the Holy Koran and the Holy Bible there and yet we say that religion is not our concern.10

These early debates on religion versus secularism and Islam versus Christianity paint a picture of monolithic blocks. However, the contemporary situation has evolved to be far more differentiated. Since Nigeria returned to democracy in 1999, dominant groupings within Christianity and Islam have been shifting to the extent that the struggle within the major religions is as signiﬁcant as the struggle between them. The important question is the extent to which the struggles within the Christian and Muslim blocs impact the relationships between Christians and Muslims, and the involvement of politicians in exploiting this situation.

ISLAMIC GROUPS Traditionally, Islam in Nigeria was dominated by the old Sufi (Darika) orders of Tijjaniyya, Qadriyya, Mahdiyya, and Ahmadiya. Beginning in the 1970s, however, a distinct shift away from the Sufi brotherhoods to new political Islamic sects of the Izala, Shiites, and neo-Salafist NIGERIA: FRUSTRATION, POLARIZATION, AND VIOLENCE 225

(or neo-Wahabists) took place. The Iranian Revolution of 1979 was a trigger for the Shia and was associated with the early activities of some of the more political members of the Muslim Students Society of Nigeria such as Ibrahim El-Zakzaky. Around that same time a new Islamic organization was launched in Northern Nigeria known as the Jamaatul Izalatul Bidia waiqamatul Sunnah. The worldviews and political positions, especially on the Sharia state and philosophy of tolerance of non-Muslim groups, differ among these groups and with the Sufis. In particular, the Izala, Shiite, and neo-Salafist/Wahabists represent a wave of new political Islamic movements whose positions are fundamentally shaped by global struggles in the post-9/11 “clash of civilizations.” Nigeria is perceived as a legitimate ground for proxy contestations between the West and Islam. The old Sufi orders, on the other hand, continue a tradition of blending Islam and African culture. They are rooted in the African peasantry and focus on regional, national, and local political issues from the standpoint of history and their notions of Islamic precepts. Both Izala and the Shiites tend to organize themselves around communities of families in which women and female children tend to have a greater and more public role in religion than in the Sufi sects. The Izala in particular tend to have followers with high levels of Western and Islamic education. Data on the relative strength of these sects in Nigeria suggest that overall the Sunni are still the dominant group. Among the Sunni, the Sufi may still be the most numerous, but this remains an important question. The nature of struggles within Islamic sects and the impact of such struggles on Islam’s accommodation towards Christians in Nigeria have been discussed in popular and intellectual circles in Nigeria. A central issue that is often raised is the fact that conflict and contestation is often a competition for followers. This is due in large measure to the mobilization platform provided by religion. In a recent study by Oxford University, this situation was explained in the following terms: “The existence of different sects coupled with the emergence of new ones created a situation of war of all against all. Each leader of the sect was trying and struggling for influence and identity, it is in line with this, they engage in fierce and mutual condemnation.”11 While Muslim politicians make frequent public statements on the importance of unity and nonviolence among Islamic groups, the introduction of Sharia law and government structure by administrations associated with the neo-Salafist/Wahabist sect amid this environment of fragmented 226 Y. HASHIM ET AL. and competing sects has heightened conflict among them in the North, and in states such as Sokoto, Kano, Kaduna, and Bauchi in particular. Efforts to bring leaders of Islamic sects together by leading politicians seeking to consolidate their political base have also been dogged by intra- sect differences and, in some cases, open conflict. Indeed, a recent attempt by the former Vice President of the Federation to bring Izala and Tijjaniya leaders together at his daughter’s wedding ended in open and almost violent hostility, as a result of Sheik Bauchi’s recitation of a religious text. Supporters of the Izala leader, Sheik Gumi, stated that “Bauchi recited ‘Salatil Fatih’ [a Sufi prayer] and Gumi challenged him on why he would recite that in Sultan Bello Mosque, knowing that it is an Izala base.”12 What leaders of most Nigerian Islamic sects have in common is their condemnation of public authority at the Federal and state levels. From their public utterances at mosques to interviews in the print media, Islamic scholars chide government for corruption, poor accountability, weak governance, failure to support peace initiatives, and failure to deliver services. With the introduction of criminal Sharia legal codes in 12 states in Northern Nigeria, however, the situation became more complex, as criticism has largely been directed at the Federal government and from 2010 to 2015 at the administration of President Goodluck Jonathan. While there was criticism of the Sharia state governments, this largely came from sects outside what Paul Lubeck labels the neo-Salafist/Wahabists, who underpinned Sharia governments within a Maliki legal framework.13 While it is difficult to make a definitive statement about each sects’ doctrinal position on tolerance and accommodation toward Christianity, utterances and actions of neo-Salafist/Wahabist groups such as Boko Haram suggests that they are at war with Christianity, and indeed with all other Muslim sects that do not conform to their narrow ideology. On the opposite side of the divide are the Sufi/Darika, whose leaders speak the language of accommodation, engagement and common interest of all religion in human rights and human security. The positions of the Izala and Shiites are more complex and less understood, though their tendency to live as autarchic communities precludes interaction with Christians or Christian dominated state or federal governments. In the interview above, Sheikh Dahiru Bauchi also expressed a clear position of peaceful coexistence with Christianity and noted, “There is no hatred between Muslims and Christians.” At the same time, he denounced the ideology of violence of radical Muslim group Boko Haram. NIGERIA: FRUSTRATION, POLARIZATION, AND VIOLENCE 227

CHRISTIAN GROUPS Within Christianity in Nigeria, a doctrinal divide exists between mainstream Christianity preaching the gospel of anti-corruption, equality in development, and good governance, and revivalist Pentecostal movements preaching the gospel of hope, healing, and prosperity. Analysts note that Pentecostal denominations tend to be aggressive in proselytizing.14 In recent times, Christian and Islamic sects seem to have found common ground in the narrow area of their support for the 2013 Prohibition of Same-Sex Marriage Bill in Nigeria. While the majority of Christians are found in the south of the country, significant Christian populations live in northeastern states such as Taraba, throughout the North central region, and in localities in the core Northeast and Northwest. Evangelical churches such as the Evangelical Church of West Africa and Church of Christ in Nigeria are dominant in the North central zone, and to a lesser extent in the Northwest and Northeast. The Roman Catholic Church has its greatest following among the Igbos of the Southeast, while Yorubas historically have been Anglicans and other Protestant churches like the Methodists. Presbyterians have historically been active in the Niger Delta area, but their churches and missions have expanded throughout the South of the country. Pentecostal missions in Nigeria have been traced to the early post-independence period, but by the mid-1990s, Pentecostalism had gained ground and was spreading rapidly throughout the Middle Belt and even into the far North, and having some success in Roman Catholic and Protestant towns of the south as well. While it is difficult to make a definitive statement about each church’s doctrinal position on tolerance and accommodation toward Islam and Muslim communities in Nigeria, in the struggle between the mainstream and new-generation churches, clear positions are apparent in their indictment of each other. For example, the statements of the mainstream churches suggest a more accommodating stance toward Islam as they accuse new-generation churches of playing politics with religion by antag- onizing Muslims. This has resulted in a split between the Catholics in particular and the other churches:

Christian unity in Nigeria suffered a blow when the nation’s Catholic leaders indeﬁnitely suspended relations with the Christian Association of Nigeria (CAN)—the ﬁrst split in the umbrella body’s nearly 40 years of existence. Catholic and Protestant churches formed the association to promote 228 Y. HASHIM ET AL.

Christian unity and to speak with one voice on national issues. But the Catholic Secretariat of Nigeria—the largest of CAN’s ﬁve blocs—said it was pulling out because of President Ayo Oritsejafor’s leadership. Catholic leaders believe the Pentecostal pastor has made CAN too cozy with the government and too confrontational with Muslims (in response to continuing attacks on Christians). In a letter listing their grievances, Nigeria’s bishops alleged that CAN was “being dragged into partisan politics, thereby compromising its ability to play its true role as conscience of the nation and voice of the voiceless.” They also alleged that CAN’s interfaith mission was “not given a priority attention to promote peace and unity in the nation, but instead CAN was being used as ‘an army put in place to defend Christians against Muslims.”15

This rising cacophony of conﬂict in relations between and within Christian churches and Islamic sects across Nigeria suggests a looming disaster, with Nigeria tipping over the brink. Nonetheless, scholars such as Wole Soyinka have sounded a note of hope, saying that it is precisely this threat of catastrophe over Christian and Muslim fundamentalism that will make Nigeria pull back from the brink:

We have never been confronted with butchery on this scale, even during the civil war. ... There were atrocities (during Biafra), but we never had such a near predictable level of carnage, and this is what is horrifying. ... I think ironically it’s less likely now. ... For the ﬁrst time, a sense of belonging is predominating. It’s either we stick together now or we break up, and we know it would be not in a pleasant way.16

TRANSNATIONAL DYNAMICS The nature of transnational Christian networks varies according to churches. All churches maintain solidarity and political networks abroad, which can be best understood in terms of an exchange model. Local Nigerian groups support global conservative Judeo-Christian constituencies and their positions on controversial issues such as abortion, same sex marriage, and Israel’s occupation of Palestinian territory. In return, the local groups gain global access to travel to attend missions, meetings, and even to take up jobs as Pastors across North America’s vast conservative heartland, and in African countries such as Malawi, Uganda, and South Africa. They also gain access to resources through donations, they facilitate adoption of Nigerian children by Western Christian couples, and establish NIGERIA: FRUSTRATION, POLARIZATION, AND VIOLENCE 229 lucrative Christian ventures such as universities, printing presses, Christian bookshops, and leadership training programs with Western Christian partners. Moreover, research on irregular migration of Nigerians to Western countries points to the important role of evangelical Christian support networks providing basic needs, solidary networks, and legal counsel.17 The manifestations of transactional connections in the country differ among churches with three general patterns observed. Mainstream churches, such as the Catholics and Anglicans, organized along the lines of missions, leverage human resources, donations, and other forms of support globally to provide developmental infrastructure, facilities, and services such as hospitals, schools, and hospices. Such schools as St. Louis Secondary, run by Catholic Sisters; Madonna University, a Catholic University; and Ajayi Crowther University, run by the Anglican Church, all operate as low cost, high quality institutions. Indeed, Madonna University and Ajayi Crowther are amongst the lowest cost private universities in Nigeria with annual fees of 350,000 naira. Remarkably, five of the Forbes list of 10 richest pastors in Africa are Nigerians from new-generation churches. Bishop David Oyedepo, founder of the Living Faith World Outreach Ministry, also known as Winners Chapel, topped the list with an estimated net worth of $150 million. Bishop Oyedepo is said to own “four clandestine jets and homes in London and the United States. He as well owns Dominion Publishing House, a publishing aggregation that publishes all his books (which are generally centered on prosperity). He founded and owns Covenant University, one of Nigeria’s arch-tertiary institutions, and Faith Academy, an aristocratic top school.”18 Also on the list are Pastor Chris Oyankhilome of the Christ Embassy Church with a net worth of $30 million; Prophet Temitope Joshua, founder of the Synagogue Church of All Nations, with an estimated net worth of $10 to $15 million; Pastor Matthew Ashimolowo, founder of the Kingsway International Christian Centre, the Pentecostal Abbey in the United Kingdom, whose estimated net worth is between $6 to $10 million.19 The pattern of linkages and solidary networks between Nigerian Islamic sects and global Islamic communities suggests an informal mosaic where funding for mosque building, scholarships in Islamic studies, and support for Daawa is channeled through informal contacts and linkages, which are more difficult than the Christian networks to map out, and often times overlap with commerce and philanthropy. Nonetheless, these networks are tremendously vibrant, and correspond to the divisions among the Islamic 230 Y. HASHIM ET AL. sects themselves. The Sufi brotherhoods share strong theological, social, financial, and political links with other members of the brotherhoods across West Africa, most notably the Tijaniyya in that regard. In the same fashion, the Izala and neo-Salafist/Wahabist movements have strong ties to Sudan, Saudi Arabia, and other parts of the Middle East, and the Shiites enjoy strong links with Iran. In recent years, Izala and Shiite leaders in particular have articulated strong views of a Western conspiracy against Nigeria and Muslims overall. At the level of broad solidarity, however, all Islamic sects in Nigeria have expressed sentiments ranging from concern to condemnation of Western attacks on Muslim countries. For example, Sheikh Bauchi observed:

People were sent from America to go and kill Muslims in Baghdad Iraq, why? What have they done to them? They have no common business bond between them; they are not their neighbors, their religion is different, but yet they bombed and killed hundreds of Muslims in Iraq, bombed and killed Muslims in Afghanistan and Pakistan.20

RELIGIOUS NARRATIVES OF FRUSTRATION Eighty-seven percent of Nigerians say that religion is very important in their lives.21 This tremendously significant place of religion in the lives of Nigerians means that it becomes a prism through which religious blocs review each other and interpret each other’s social and political realities. While ethnicity is also an important factor shaping how groups view each other in Nigeria, the fact that ethnic groups tend to have roughly the same religious affiliation results to a large extent in the conflation of ethnicity with religion in the characterization of groups by each other. A recent Pew study found that, “nearly all of those who identify themselves as Igbo say they are Christians, while most of those who identify themselves as Hausa say they are Muslims.”22 However, the study also notes that this was not the case for Yorubas where 45% of the population surveyed were Christian and 54% were Muslim. In terms of perceptions of each other, the Pew survey found that in Nigeria 53% Christians had a positive view of Muslims and 63% of Muslims had positive views of Christians. Muslims are widely seen as devout, honest, and respectful of women, and Christians are widely seen as tolerant, honest, and respectful of women.23 NIGERIA: FRUSTRATION, POLARIZATION, AND VIOLENCE 231

At the level of the elites, however, public framing of the perceptions of different ethno-religious groups was entirely different. Similarly, expressions of ethno-religious perceptions in social media in Nigeria paint a picture largely different from the ﬁndings of the Pew survey. One of the most poignant and perhaps derogatory characterization of elite viewpoint of an ethno-religious group can be seen in the writings of the Former Attorney General of the Federal Republic of Nigeria, Chief Bola Ige. Commenting on the number of Fulani members of a government- appointed national strategy committee at the time, Chief Bola Ige stated in his 1997 Sunday column that

Since 1960, has our bane not been that the “Tutsis” of Nigeria (who are minority of minorities – in population, in education, in management skills, in the economy) have held Nigeria at the jugular, scheming political man- oeuvres that make them hold on to power at all costs and in all circumstances? The result, of course, is that all “non Tutsis” of Nigeria are not ready to trust their future to such a minority who have never exhibited true Nigerian nationalism ...The young people do not trust the authorities, and the way they see Nigeria is vastly different from how the “Tutsis” of Nigeria want Nigeria to be.24

POLITICAL ECONOMY OF POVERTY IN NORTHERN NIGERIA Popular perceptions in the Nigerian print and social media paint a picture of the North as a zone of poverty, characterized by hordes of homeless Almajiri children ready to take up arms in the name of religion. Such Northern stereotypes also feature intolerant religious and community leaders, and a greedy bureaucratic and political male elite who argues for a greater share of the national cake, which they are unwilling to share with the talakawa (underclass). Similar characterizations of the Northern economy portray this region as a low productivity arid zone. A contrary stereotypical view is held in the popular media of the South of the country. This region is portrayed as a modern, industrialized economy ready to take off, and with strong roots in Western economies. The zone is seen as having an educated thriving middle class committed to Western education, professionalism and Western consumption patterns. In contrast to the core Northwest and Northeast zones of the country, the North central is also perceived as a zone where committed Christian leaders are using the vehicle of religion to develop the region. 232 Y. HASHIM ET AL.

It is important to step back and trace these associations of high rates of poverty with the North and economic buoyancy with the South to the World Bank’s 1996 seminal report titled Poverty in the Midst of Plenty.25 This study showed that when states were classified by agro-climatic regions, the northern arid zone was the poorest in the country. At the time, this early characterization of the zone of poverty went unnoticed by the military regime of General Abacha and was sternly rebutted by Northern interest groups such as the Arewa Consultative Forum. At a 2008 meeting of the Arewa Inspiration Leadership Forum, however, the Governor of the Central Bank of Nigeria, Professor Chukwuma Soludo, noted that “educationally, the north was seriously lagging behind the south as the number of students who seek education from Imo state in one year, for example, is higher than 16 states in the north put together.” He also stated that, “if you put together 12 to 15 states in the north, the (microfinance banks in them) are not up to the number you find in one state in the south.”26 Most recently, the discourse on regional inequality and poverty has overlapped with the debate on resource control as South-south (Niger Delta) nationalists make a case for their zone as the most productive of the country and therefore the region most deserving of disproportionate revenues to fight poverty. Politicians and interest groups opposing the South-south’s argument for resource control point to the continuing evidence of poor governance and unequal distribution of wealth in South-south states27 and evoke the preeminence of national ownership above regional endowment. Despite such positions, the association of host communities with the right to resource control is a hotly debated subject that has pitted the North against the South-south in recent times.

POLITICS OF ETHNIC ACCOMMODATION AND RELIGIOUS POLARIZATION The 2010–2015 Jonathan administration was widely regarded by analysts to be the most signiﬁcant actor in the redesign of the Nigerian state away from secularism, second only to General Babangida’s effort to give the state an Islamic character by having Nigeria join the Organization of the Islamic Conference in the early 1990s. The new characterization of the Nigerian state under the Jonathan administration was seen as overtly Christian and Southern. Several instances are noted in the media of the President’safﬁnity with evangelical churches and his propensity to create overlaps between the sacred and the regnum. Instances include leading a NIGERIA: FRUSTRATION, POLARIZATION, AND VIOLENCE 233

Christian pilgrimage to Israel while Nigeria remained in the fiery grip of Boko Haram, the disproportionate representation of Christians in a 2013 National Conference, and the frequency of his major public policy pronouncements in churches during Sunday services all gave credence to the view that the Jonathan administration was building a Christian character to the Nigerian state. Indeed, the President’s public pronouncements made in churches ranged from an allegation that Boko Haram had infiltrated the government and security forces on January 8, 2012, to statements that likened the insurgency to the Syrian civil war during his December 31st pro- nouncement at the pulpit of a church. Perhaps the most controversial statement credited to him was the observation that, “the Church kept Nigeria together,” a statement made at the birthday crusade of Pastor Ayo Oritsejafor, the President of the CAN, at the International Gospel Centre, Warri in November 2013. At this event, the President went on to praise the CAN Chairman as a “very, very strong president of the CAN.”28 The fact that almost all of these statements were made in new evangelical churches elicited strong words of caution from political analysts and Christian leaders of mainstream churches. The Catholic Archbishop of Jos, Ignatius Kaigama, publicly advised President Jonathan to stop making public policy pronouncements in churches and to focus instead on meeting Nigerians at the community level where they live in abject poverty.29 Not surprisingly, Muslim commentators like Haruna Mohammed raised alarm over the President’s alliance with the Christian evangelical churches, reminding Nigerians that in the President’s 2011 election campaign, “he knelt publicly before the highly influential Pastor Enoch Adeboye at the Redemption Camp, Ogun State, of the Redeemed Christian Church of God, for blessing.”30 In addition, as the Boko Haram crisis deepened, President Jonathan appeared to embrace the negotiation skills of the Anglican Church as seen by the January 2014 “pastoral visit” of Archbishop of Canterbury Justin Welby to Nigeria. The Archbishop and the president are reported to have prayed privately along with the Most Reverend Nicholas Okoh, the Primate and leader of the Anglican Communion in Nigeria. Before becoming Archbishop, Welby negotiated with militant groups in host communities of the oil-producing Niger Delta region.31 Archbishop Welby is believed to have advised the President on a strategy for Boko Haram, while another Anglican priest in Nigeria sought covert talks with Boko Haram. 234 Y. HASHIM ET AL.

Beyond the politicization of religion, ethnicity remains an important factor that complicates the impact of religion. A recent study of Muslim minority populations in Kano state revealed that during times of ethno- religious conﬂict, Muslim minorities are attacked both by Hausas for being non-Hausa and by Southern Christians for being Muslims and Northern. The study cited a representative of Muslim minority associations, who said:

We, the Yoruba Muslims are experiencing two attacks, from indigenes and from Christians from southern Nigerian living in Sabon Gari. So when we are running away from [Muslim Hausa] indigenes and coming to Sabon Gari, we are not safe as well. If you dress like a Hausa man you could be killed. Our mosques are burned by the Igbos [Christians] as revenge and not by the indigenes. ... Each time we have religious conﬂict we are at the centre, our mosques are always attacked since the beginning of Maitatsine crisis.32

Of the 17 civic associations for Muslim minorities involved in the field research component of this study, 16 reported that they experienced open conflicts resulting in death, loss of personal and members’ property, threats to life and even destruction of the associations’ offices and property. Even more destructive has been recent expressions of micro- nationalism, where local communities sharing the same language, culture, and religion go to war with each other and fight for their own territory and expressions of micro-nationhood. Examples include warring communities in the North central region, in the border conflicts of Akwa Ibom in the Niger Delta, amongst Ijaw sub-groups in Bayelsa State, and within the people of Rano in Kano State. Many of these micro-groups have called for the creation of new states in the federation in order to meet these interests. A similar narrative for statehood in the south of Kaduna revolves around recognition of shared culture with the Hausa core North, and shared religion with much of the North central but a distinct wish for separation and statehood as an ethnic minority. The submission of the Southern Kaduna in the Diaspora forum captures these sentiments:

The northern minorities (those in the middle belt and the pure Hausa breed – the maguzawa) don’t want to be part of a Hausa or Hausa Fulani nation; neither do the southern minorities want to be in a Yoruba nation, nor an Igbo nation. Nigerian minorities have fought against treble NIGERIA: FRUSTRATION, POLARIZATION, AND VIOLENCE 235

oppression: colonialism, marginalization and the effects of corruption. They do not see their liberation in breaking Nigeria into nationals that will yoke them to their regional majorities. They prefer for the current spatial and geographic Nigeria. Their plight can be improved with the creation of states, but not balkanization or subdivision of the country.33

The nation-building project of the Nigerian political elite is one that is fundamentally built around establishing and strengthening Nigerian public institutions to mediate competing interests, particularly ethnic interests, and to provide a platform for regulated – though not equal – access to public resources. Core institutions of the nation-building project are the National Youth Service, Citizens and Leadership program in the office of the President, Unity schools and Federal Universities, the Federal Character Commission, and the Federal civil service and the military. The early argument for the unity institutions revolved around de-emphasis of tribe, and to a lesser extent religion, toward the goal of building a Nigerian citizen more loyal to the country than any subnational unit. Within Nigerian civil society, the trade union movement also embraced a project of building an inclusive, non-religious, non-tribal, but oftentimes fiercely political civil society national association. While the Nigerian Labor Congress (NLC), the umbrella organization for all unions, overlapped with regional and ethnic interests, its emergence has been a victory for social cohesion within civil society driven by workers’ solidarity. The movement has come to be voice for peace, inclusion, good governance, and a wide range of issues of national importance. With few exceptions, the NLC has remained largely social welfare-oriented in its advocacy efforts and avoided any ethnic or religious positions or favoritism. The story of the NLC is particularly significant given the finding that the predominant basis for associational life in Nigeria is the local community, leading to the preponderance of community-based organizations in the landscape of Civil Society Organizations (CSOs) in Nigeria. Several mapping studies of CSOs in Nigeria point to the absence of national issue-based groups around ideas of nationhood and development. Although the emergence of “ABANGOs” (Abuja-based NGOs) and some national rights- focused groups and networks such as the National Council of Women’s Societies and the Nigerian Bar Association have had national resonance, these groups do not set for themselves a mission of building a pan-Nigerian front around issues of citizenship, inclusion, and nation building. 236 Y. HASHIM ET AL.

Even established human rights NGOs in Nigeria have been accused of ethno-religious bias and failure to represent objective, pan-Nigerian views. A recent complaint by the Northeast Security Advocacy Forum that the Human Rights Writers Association (HURIWA) introduced ethnic sentiments into the association demonstrates this point. Forum coordinator Stephanie Joshua noted that

Human rights activists are supposed to be detribalized. ... Human rights activists are supposed to be patriotic. All the years that we have been suffering in Adamawa, Borno, Yobe, Bauchi and Taraba, the HURIWA kept a suspicious silence. Many believed the HURIWA was dead. Now that the bomb was found in Imo, [Southeastern-born writer] Onwubiko came out to raise false accusations against one of our Governors in the Northeast, a governor that has been doing everything to address the problem. Is it because Onwubiko is from the Southeast ...?34

DONOR EFFORTS TO REDUCE RELIGIOUS CONFLICT IN NIGERIA In discussing donor support for good governance programs, including peacebuilding in Nigeria, one report notes that aid to Nigeria is low and has fallen even further since its peak in 2006. The study explains this with the observation that:

The downscaling of traditional development aid to Nigeria was for most donors justified by the high levels of government revenue. Nigeria is not a poor country; it features as a lower-middle income country according to the World Bank classification. Besides, high levels of corruption and persistent problems of resource management have contributed to the decline of aid flows. At the same time, the level of poverty is high, both in the urban slums and in most rural areas. Thus, poverty in Nigeria is not a question of lack of resources; it is a question of the appropriate use of available resources.35

The negative impact of poor donor funding for social cohesion and peacebuilding interventions in Nigeria is mitigated somewhat by well- funded government interventions and by Africa-wide and indigenous civil society initiatives. Perhaps the most significant regional initiative funded by the federal government of Nigeria is the 2012 hosting of the African First Ladies under the aegis of the African First Ladies for Peace Mission. Nigeria’s then First Lady, Dame Patience Goodluck-Jonathan NIGERIA: FRUSTRATION, POLARIZATION, AND VIOLENCE 237 was the chief host of the lavish event, entitled –“The African Woman: A Voice for Peace.” Numerous government programs exist to maintain social cohesion, peace, and tolerance in Nigeria. The Institute for Peace and Conflict Resolution (IPCR)36 is the lead agency in this regard, as established by an act of the National Assembly in 2007.37 Section 8 (1) states the function of the Institute: “The Institute shall be responsible for (1) promoting peace and security internally within Nigeria and externally in Africa, (2) conducting research into the cause, patterns, dynamics, factors and forces behind conflictsandinsecurityinNigeriaandAfrica, (3) promoting a culture of transparent, credible and peaceful democratic succession as a mechanism for conflict prevention, and (4) getting practically involved in the task of mediation, conflict management and conflict resolution. ...” Although IPCR has tried to pursue this ambitious mandate, particularly in terms of research, its budget was modest at start and slashed soon after, such that most of its work is dependent upon donor assistance. IPCR and UNICEF recently finalizedworkonatoolkit for mainstreaming peacebuilding in development programming, and UNICEF designated it as mandatory training material for its development workers.38 Civil society groups sourcing funds locally to conduct peace and social cohesion initiatives include, for instance, the Society for Peace Studies and Practice. The Society seeks to integrate peace scholarship and practice as a way of advancing the development of a culture of peace. It provides a collaborative space for peace scholars and practitioners from various areas of specialization to share and synthesize ideas and experiences as a way of evolving a more holistic approach to the understanding and practice of peace.39 Another such organization is the Nigeria Alliance for Peace, which is part of the Global Alliance for Ministries and Departments of Peace, a worldwide community of civil society organizations, committed citizens, and elected and appointed government officials working for governments to establish ministries and departments of peace and nonviolence. The Nigeria Stability and Reconciliation Programme (NSRP), the new- est major peace program in Nigeria was designed to reduce violent conflict in the country. The 2013–2017 program provides support to Nigerian stakeholders to better manage conflict through strategies of wealth creation, service delivery, and poverty reduction. The program is funded by the UK Department for International Development and implemented 238 Y. HASHIM ET AL. by the British Council in partnership with International Alert and Social Development Direct. One important component of the intervention is its focus on Women, Peace and Security, which included a study that showed that Nigerian women take action wherever they can in conflict resolution and that they have a powerful role to play. Nonetheless, obstacles such as discriminatory social norms and gender-based violence hinder their participation. The Nigeria Stability and Reconciliatoin Programme (NRSP) also commissioned the development, Research and Project Centre to provide technical and administrative support for the Oxford Nigeria Research Network to implement and deliver outputs of research on radicalization, counter-radicalization and de-radicalization in Nigeria. Similarly, Lead Nigeria implements a program to help prevent, minimize, and resolve conflicts within and around Nigeria, to increase conflict management capacities, to promote post-conflict stability and development by providing tools and intellectual capital in the region, and to empower youths of the region with knowledge, skills, and resources, engaging them in peacebuilding efforts.40 The program also places heavy emphasis on linking peace with development and determining how the skills of armed groups can be harnessed for positive purposes. They have outlined various peace and security strategies that are necessary to achieve peace in the region, including human capital development, decommission- ing and reintegration, and support for the government’s reconciliation and amnesty process. The Interfaith Mediation Centre has also taken a leading role in six states across the North and North central regions to bridge the Muslim-Christian divide through trainings, local mediation efforts, and the establishment of an early warning system that brings data about local conflict trends back to the communities from which it is sourced.

LIMITS AND POTENTIALS OF CURRENT APPROACHES The authors recently assessed views toward donor-funded peace and conflict resolution interventions in Nigeria. Interviewees included independent researchers and consultants in peacebuilding, university-based academics, NGO leaders and program officers, representatives of donor agencies, beneficiary communities, and participants in peacebuilding programs. Several important findings and observations were identified in terms of what works and what does not work for addressing deep, overlapping social division in Nigeria. NIGERIA: FRUSTRATION, POLARIZATION, AND VIOLENCE 239

NGO respondents noted that donors with a long history of supporting peace and conflict resolution interventions such as the Heinrich Böll Foundation failed to build upon program successes and were quick to shift focus and NGOs to be engaged when the leadership of donors change. NGO respondents were also weary and in some cases dismissive of the overemphasis on research and mapping studies on peace and conflict mitigation. Respondents spoke of the disproportionate allocation of funds allocated to understanding the drivers of conflict with little resources devoted to establishing long-term platforms for dialogue and peace. The Active Citizens program, for instance, complained of the absence of a conflict and risk management protocol in conflict mitigation programs, and spoke of the truncation of its activities and the feeling of abandonment as a result of the British Council’s hasty closure of its Kano office after a 2012 statewide attack by Boko Haram. Researchers and academics also pointed to the fact that they were often engaged to carry out studies on peace and conflict resolution in which these themes are submerged within macro-level research issues such as governance, the proliferation of small arms, electoral violence, and youth unemployment. Universities observed that donor agencies preferred to engage international NGOs that do not have an in-depth knowledge of conflict drivers in Nigeria rather than build the capacity of local groups to enable them to be full partners. Thus, a wide cross-section of respondents, and independent conflict consultants and government agencies working in peace and conflict resolution, in particular, lamented the fact that donors are uninterested in funding institution building platforms where lasting forums are created beyond the life of the project for continuing dialogue among ethno-religious groups. Another concern raised by respondents was the tendency of global peace initiatives, like a recent peacebuilding study tour to the UK organized by the Tony Blair Faith Foundation, to develop covert programs that target high-level and high-value participants, some of who were parties in conflicts. Respondents worried that some participants in these initiatives are unlikely to complete post-study tour activities without adequate follow up, successive mentoring meetings, and the establishment of forums for dialogue. Similarly, a wide cross-section of respondents interviewed on the effectiveness of donor funded conflict mitigation programs observed that most programs were designed in a vertical manner without much opportunities to bring different interest groups to the same table. Respondents noted that donors had carved out their niches and did not 240 Y. HASHIM ET AL. explore linkages. Instead, donors fell into regional or thematic categories: those who worked mainly with government, others who worked only in the North central or the core North, some who worked mainly in the Niger Delta or with pastoralists, others who focused on Islamic opinion leaders, some designed programs around youth, and others focused mainly on women. Respondents argued that by doing so, donors are perceived to have taken sides in conflicts and fail to leverage opportunities for broad-based platforms of understanding and learning. In terms of what works, several important points were observed about donor-funded programs. NGO respondents commended the design of the new NSRP program for its ability to grant to and re-engage a wide range of CSOs that had been abandoned by other donors in the past, while also employing local NGOs such as the Centre for Research and Documentation in monitoring and evaluation. The new NSRP program was also commended for its commitment to disseminating information on its website. It was noted, however, that more efforts should be made to translate and print findings into local languages. Participants of conflict mitigation training programs supported by the Heinrich Böll Foundation in particular noted that participatory approaches and the tools of leadership development were effective strategies for catalyzing understanding and change among different ethno- religious groups in social cohesion programs. Focussing on Christian and Muslim secular leaders and building their capacity to carry out joint projects was also identified as an effective strategy for developing learning and permanent platforms for peace. Working with the media and building their capacity to report conflicts as was done for the Dutch government-funded Responsibility to Report program was another best practice noted.

FINDINGS:GLOBALIZED RELIGION,LOCALIZED CONFLICT Religion’s role in social cohesion in Nigeria remains as complex as the many forms that religion takes in the nation. Neither Islam nor Christianity is a monolithic entity. As argued above, intra-religious disputes can sometimes be just as deadly as inter-religious ones. Nonetheless, the increasing polarization of national politics along the religious divide, which also coincides with the geographical North-South divide and sepa- rates the Hausa ethnic group from the Igbo and half of the Yoruba, poses a major challenge for social cohesion. The 2010–2015 presidency of NIGERIA: FRUSTRATION, POLARIZATION, AND VIOLENCE 241

Goodluck Jonathan in particular saw the ruling PDP move closely to the CAN and major evangelical and Pentecostal churches for political gain, while the main opposition party – now the ruling APC after the 2015 election – moved toward Muslims and the Northern elite. Fortunately, religion is not the only element at play among politicians, but the regions of the nation that are evenly mixed between Muslims and Christians have seen tensions exacerbated by the politicians’ growing tendency to resort to religious mobilization. This in turn runs the risk of creating an increasingly bipolar, zero-sum character to politics in which every major national event is viewed through the Muslim-Christian lens, which could quickly degenerate into the “us or them” logic of which countries like Rwanda so terribly demonstrated the consequences. The globalized nature of Nigeria’s religious divide has further complicated matters, while also opening new opportunities for donor assistance and peace activism. The challenges were exemplified by the 2006 controversy over the Danish cartoons insulting the Prophet Mohammed, which saw more Nigerians die in riots over these than anywhere else in the world. Increasingly, Muslims and Christians in Nigeria see themselves not only as divided in Nigerian politics, but also as astride a great global boundary line between the two religions, over which the worldwide standing of the very religions themselves may be at stake. At the same time, both globalization and democratization in Nigeria have fostered a tremendous pluralization within both Islam and Christianity that is vitally important in preventing simple us or them perspectives and dampening inter-religious polarization. New congregations and viewpoints are boom industries among both Muslims and Christians, increasing the volatility of both religions, but also sapping the ability of national leaders to speak on behalf of all the members of one community or the other. Whether or not Nigeria tips over the brink is a function of multiple vertical and horizontal frameworks for religious social cohesion, as outlined above. President Jonathan organized a national conference in 2013 ostensibly to address these overarching questions of national unity along both ethnic and religious lines. The delegates made a series of recommendations for constitutional and political reform. However, without real powers or widespread representation, it was largely seen as an effort to deflect criticism of his government from the deepening Boko Haram crisis, as well as from divisions within the party. Ultimately, the best hope for stepping back from religious 242 Y. HASHIM ET AL. politicization may reside in the religious communities themselves, which continue to engage in extensive local efforts to bridge their divisions and coexist peacefully. Supported by local NGOs and global donors, these initiatives are working to address the conflicts at their roots, which, if the national politicians eventually shift from self-enrichment toward genuine development-oriented policies, could move Nigeria toward a more inclusive society that benefits from its great religious diversity.

NOTES 1. Chibok: Press Statement by Northern CAN signed by Professor Daniel Babayi, Secretary-General, via Sunday Oibe Public Relations Ofﬁcer, Wednesday, May 7, 2014, pp. 1–2. 2. Darren Kew, “Building Democracy in 21st Century Africa: Two Africas, One Solution,” Seton Hall Journal of Diplomacy and International Relations (Winter/Spring 2005). 3. The Finance Minister announced the nation’s external debt in mid-2012 at nearly $6 billion – roughly a ﬁfth as large as it was before the 2005 pay- down. Domestic debt is now estimated at $38 billion. ThisDayLive, April 17, 2012, http://www.thisdaylive.com/articles/nigeria-s-domestic-exter nal-debts-now-44bn/113910/, accessed on December 20, 2012. 4. The Economist, November 7, 2007. 5. Nigerian Communications Commission, available at http://www.ncc.gov. ng/industry-statistics/68.html, accessed on February 22, 2012. 6. IMF.org country data, accessed February 22, 2012. 7. The UNDP’s 2008–2009 Human Development Report for Nigeria said it “ranks among the most unequal countries in the world.” 8. Available at: http://www.moibrahimfoundation.org/interact/, accessed on October 1, 2014. 9. http://news.yahoo.com/boko-haram-carnage-making-nigeria-break-less- likely-120957399.html 10. Federal Government of Nigeria, Hansard of the Constituent Assembly Debates, Draft Constitution Bill, November 1, 1977, pp. 73–74. 11. Nigeria Research Network (NRN), Oxford Department of International Development, University of Oxford. NRN Working Paper No. 14, Existing Knowledge on Islam in northern Nigerian Universities Annotated Bibliography and trend analysis of Existing knowledge in Universities in Northern Nigeria on Islam and Development, Islamic Knowledge, and the Islamization of Knowledge, March 2013. 12. http://news.naij.com/16912.html. NIGERIA: FRUSTRATION, POLARIZATION, AND VIOLENCE 243

13. Paul M. Lubeck, Nigeria: Mapping the Sharià Restorationist Movement (Draft Peer Reviewed Copy). Center for Global, International and Regional Studies, UC Santa Cruz, 2011, 252. 14. http://www.globalsecurity.org/military/world/war/nigeria-1.htm. 15. Source: http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2013/march/disunited- front.html?paging=off How a Catholic-Pentecostal Split Could Help Nigeria’s Militant Islamists, United body divides for the first time in 40 years over politics and Islam. Sunday Oguntola in Lagos, Nigeria/ March 7, 2013. 16. http://www.reuters.com/article/2014/07/02/us-nigeria-soyinka- idUSKBN0F715A20140702. 17. IPPR/development Research and Projects Centre, 2013 End of Project Report on 3 year research on Irregular Migration to Europe from Nigeria. 18. http://www.informationng.com/2013/12/bishop-oyedepo-tops-forbes- list-of-the-richest-pastors-in-africa.html. 19. Ibid. 20. Ibid. 21. http://www.pewforum.org/files/2010/04/sub-saharan-africa-full- report.pdf,3. 22. Ibid. 23. Ibid., 39 24. http://www.dawodu.com/siddiq1.htm. 25. http://wwwwds.worldbank.org/servlet/WDSContentServer/WDSP/ IB/1996/05/31/000009265_3961029235646/Rendered/PDF/multi0 page.pdf. 26. http://www.nairaland.com/153981/soludo-poverty-northern- phenomenom. 27. See, for example, the communique of the Bayelsa Non-Governmental Organizations Forum (BANGOF) at the end of a workshop which aimed to strengthen oil revenue management in the Niger Delta. The workshop indicted the government of Bayelsa state for not creating democratic platforms to connect with the people. http://saharareporters.com/news- page/civil-society-organizations-rate-bayelsa-low-inclusive-governance; Also see, True Confessions of a Niger Deltan, Dessert Herald, March– April 2012, p. 1 28. www.vanguardngr.com/2013/11/church-kept-nigeria-together-johathan. 29. http://saharareporters.com/news-page/saharatv-stop-making-policy-state ment-church-archbishop-kaigama-tells-jonathan 30. http://www.nollywoodmagazine.com/2014/02/jonathan-and-2015-play ing-dangerous-politics-with-religion.html. 31. http://news.yahoo.com/anglican-leader-prays-nigerias-president-over- missing-girls-231614084.html. 244 Y. HASHIM ET AL.

32. Nigeria Research Network (NRN), Oxford Department of International Development, University of Oxford NRN WORKING PAPER NO 7, Muslim Others: Criss-crossing Ethno-Religious Identities and Conﬂict in Kano, Judith-Ann Walker and Yahaya Hashim,, March 2013, p. 25. 33. Southern Kaduna People don’t want to belong to a Hausa Fulani Country: A brief Memorandum submitted by Southern Kaduna in the Diaspora to the National Conference, June 2014, p. 1. 34. http://saharareporters.com/news-page/dont-ignite-ethnic-sentiments- nigeria-group-members-tell-human-rights-writers-association. 35. www.norad.no/en/tools-and-publications/publications/ ... Governance in Nigeria A Study in Political Economy, Discussion Paper, No.17, 2010, 35. 36. www.ipcrng.org. 37. http://www.placng.org/lawsofnigeria/node/135, accessed on July 7, 2014. 38. Supra Note 11. 39. http://www.spsp.org.ng/about.aspx, accessed on July 7, 2014. 40. http://leadnigeria.org/index.php/about-us.

Yahaya Hashim is the founding Director of the development Research and Projects Centre (dRPC) based in Kano, Nigeria. He is a regular advisor for international peacebuilding projects in Northern Nigeria, and most recently served as the Chief of Party for a USAID-funded project titled, Leadership Development for Reproductive Health for Traditional and Religious Leaders.

Darren Kew is an Associate Professor at the McCormack Graduate School of Policy and Global Studies at the University of Massachusetts, Boston, and an occasional consultant to the United Nations, USAID, the US State Department, and the Carter Center. He is also the Executive Director of the Center for Peace, Democracy, and Development where he specializes in the study of civil society development, international security and crisis intervention in Africa, and conﬂict resolution efforts as grassroots approaches to promoting democracy.

Judith Ann Walker holds a PhD in Development Studies from the University of Erasmus, the Netherlands. She is a founding member of the development Research and Projects Centre (dRPC) based in Kano, Nigeria and currently the Strategic Director of Knowledge Management. CHAPTER 9

Sri Lanka: Social Cohesion ...In the Eye of the Beholder

Susan Hayward and Mirak Raheem

In May of 2009, Sri Lankan President Mahinda Rajapaksa declared an end to the brutal civil war that had plagued the island nation for roughly 26 years. The end of the war was achieved not through negotiations, though many attempts at mediated and direct negotiations between the Government and Tamil militant groups, principally the separatist Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE), had been attempted throughout the years. Rather, the end of the violent civil war was achieved through a strategic military onslaught by the Government that culminated in the assassination of the LTTE leadership, the death of many thousands of Tamil civilians, and the reclamation of territory previously under LTTE control. With the LTTE decimated, the war was undoubtedly over. But whether the underlying ethno-political conﬂict has come to an end is contested. Those who contend the conﬂict continues argue that the root drivers that led to the outbreak of civil war – namely, minority rights, majoritarian nationalism, and the centralization of power – remain

S. Hayward (*) US Institute of Peace, Washington, DC, USA e-mail: [email protected] M. Raheem Independent Researcher, Colombo, Sri Lanka e-mail: [email protected]

© The Author(s) 2017 245 F.D. Cox, T.D. Sisk (eds.), Peacebuilding in Deeply Divided Societies, Rethinking Political Violence, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-50715-6_9 246 S. HAYWARD AND M. RAHEEM unresolved and were even exacerbated from 2009 to 2015 under the victorious Rajapaksa rule.1 This, in essence, is the conundrum in which Sri Lanka found itself when this research was conducted in 2013–2014, in a post-war but not yet post- conflict situation, and the complexity in which programs seeking to advance social cohesion operated.2 Indeed, initiatives seeking to promote social cohesion in Sri Lanka at the time found themselves indelibly constrained by narrow political realities, as this chapter will demonstrate. Nonetheless, peacebuilding projects seeking to bridge divides between ethnic and religious communities and so to advance social cohesion operated in essence from the same calculations as those in the past, particularly the 2002–2006 “ceasefire” period, about how to achieve a truly “post-conflict” Sri Lanka. The evolution of project design, framing, and operationalization of these projects appeared to have been based less on the impact of previous programming and more on the assessments of project implementers and donors about what would be politically neutral or viable in Sri Lanka’s contested political space. As a result, the impact of these projects appeared limited to local community relations rather than on state structure and policies.

THE EMERGENCE OF CIVIL WAR This small island country (approximately 20 million people total) located off the southern coast of India is home to an ethnically and religiously diverse population. The ethnic majority is Sinhala, which constitutes about 74.9% of the overall population. The largest ethnic minority is the Tamil, which comprises 15.4% of the population (this ﬁgure includes both Sri Lankan Tamil and more recent Tamils from India, sometimes referred to as Up-Country Tamils, many of whom were brought to Sri Lanka during the colonial period by the British to work on tea plantations). The third major ethnic group is the Muslim community, sometimes called the Moors, who comprise about 9% of the population and generally speak Tamil. The ethnic breakdown very roughly corresponds to religious breakdown. The majority of Sinhala are Buddhists. Tamils are overwhelmingly Hindu. However, there is a small Christian community (7.4%) comprising both Sinhala and Tamil people. The northern and eastern parts of the country are home to many of the minority populations, and the southern part of the island is predominantly Sinhala. The Western province, where the capital Colombo is located, is heterogeneous.3 SRI LANKA: SOCIAL COHESION ...IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER 247

Like many conflicts, pinpointing the root causes, or even a precise beginning point of Sri Lanka’s conflict, is an exercise fraught with political implications. Actors often give answers derived from their experience, ideological commitments, and communal perspectives. There is, however, a greater consensus on the date of the commencement of the war: July 1983, also known as Black July, when Sinhala mobs, operating with the complicity of the State, attacked Tamil civilians, businesses, and neighborhoods in response to the ambush and slaughter of government soldiers in the north of the island by the insurgency group the LTTE. Full-scale civil war ensued across the island. Explanations for the causes for the outbreak of the war vary. For some, the roots of the war are primordial. Ancient accounts of Sri Lankan history reveal both inter-ethnic tensions and violent conflict between Sri Lanka’s Tamil and Sinhala communities. The history of the island’s ethnic majority Sinhala community is connected to the presence of Buddhism on the island as described in the Mahavamsa – a Sinhala Buddhist historical account of the country. The Mahavamsa and other historical accounts are interpreted to convey that inter-ethnic relations were exacerbated by numerous incursions into Sinhala kingdoms by marauding Tamil armies from South India. Yet there are many testimonies to long periods of peaceful inter-ethnic coexistence and neighborly rule through separately administered kingdoms as well.4 Colonialism also is presented as a causal factor for the modern conflict. From the sixteenth century until independence in the mid-twentieth century, Sri Lanka was governed under successive colonial powers – Portugal, Holland and Britain. In particular, British colonial practices resulted in vast economic, political, and social changes that set a course toward Sri Lanka’s modern conflict. To caricature this position, during British rule, the minority Tamil community profited politically and economically, particularly relative to the vast majority Sinhala (Rotberg 1999).5 In this narrative of the conflict’s origins, the advantages achieved by the Tamils and the arrogance of the colonial system threatened the Sinhala community and sparked a religious and ethnic-identification revival within the community, egged on by aggressive Christian missionary projects (Little 1999).6 On February 4, 1948, Sri Lanka gained independence from Britain. The inability of the post-colonial independent state of Sri Lanka to deal with multiple and competing ethno-political demands, interests and needs, coupled with the failure of Sinhalese and Tamil political leaders to reach a workable political compromise, is central to the conflict’s 248 S. HAYWARD AND M. RAHEEM degeneration. In the period leading to independence, the island saw assertions by various political organizations to group claims, including demands for protection of minority rights, especially by Tamil nationalists concerned about majoritarian Sinhala domination of the State. Over the decades immediately following independence, Sinhala political leaders used their majority in Parliament to secure greater economic and political rights and authority for their community – to correct what they saw as the injustices of the past, including the perceived unfair advantage of Tamils under British colonial practices of divide-and-rule. Successive governments introduced a series of laws and policies considered discriminatory toward the Tamil-speaking communities. This included the establishment of Sinhala as the national language (the so-called Sinhala Only Act of 1956), which limited the access of Tamil speakers to education and state employment opportunities, particularly university and local government positions. The implementation of a district-based quota system for university entrance also impacted Tamils, particularly those from Jaffna in the north of the country. The introduction of citizenship laws resulted in the disenfranchisement of Tamils of more recent Indian origin brought to the island by the British for work on tea plantations. Tamils pressed to safeguard their socio- economic position and sought to repeal legislation that discriminated against them. In the 1950s and 1960s Tamil nationalist movements sought to devolve central power and create a semi-autonomous unit in the North and East, Tamil majority areas, within a united Sri Lanka. Negotiations between the Tamil-dominated Federal Party and Sinhala parties in government ensued and even resulted in agreements such as the Bandaranaike-Chelvanayakam Agreement of 1958 and the Senanayake- Chelvanayakam Pact of 1965. Ultimately these efforts failed to be implemented as the ethnic conflict became increasingly entrenched. Throughout the 1960s and 1970s ethnic tension mounted. The Federal Party strengthened its position among the Tamil population in the North and East and in Parliament but was unable to stem the adoption of laws they criticized as oppressive to Tamils, including a new constitution in 1972 that afforded the central government greater power and that gave Buddhism an official “foremost place.” The island also saw a series of the so-called race riots in 1956, 1958, and 1981 that primarily targeted Tamils. Frustrated with the failure of parliamentary politics, Tamil politics became increasingly radicalized and the calls for a separate Tamil homeland gained increasing credibility. From the mid-1970s onward, Tamil militant groups emerged. SRI LANKA: SOCIAL COHESION ...IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER 249

THE COST OF WAR The civil war, although concentrated in the North and East, had multiple impacts on the country at large. The war resulted in a massive human cost: conservative estimates are that at least 80,000 Sri Lankans died over the course of the war, hundreds of thousands were displaced both within and outside the country, and civilians suffered incalculable personal and communal losses. At a macro-level the war retarded the economy and development. Although the country was able to sustain growth rates of around 5.1% for a number of years through the war, the security situation and military expenses proved costly with Sri Lanka experiencing negative growth for the first time in its post-independent history in 2001.7 In the North and East the local economies shrank.8 Indeed, to understand the Sri Lankan post-independence history merely through the lens of the civil war and attendant ethno-political conflict is limiting. This is especially the case if one seeks to understand the nature of social cohesion in the country, as there are other significant cleavages and bonds impacting Sri Lankan society. In addition to the ethnic war, Sri Lanka also experienced two Marxist rebellions, the first in 1971 and the second in the late 1980s, in which disaffected Sinhala youth collectivized under the Jathika Vimuthi Peramuna (JVP) and took arms against the State. Both rebellions were crushed by the State resulting in a death toll of at least 40,000 persons. These two rebellions spoke to the grievances and frustra- tions within the Sinhala polity, including caste and class cleavages, and the limitations of both the State in providing for the needs of its people and the political system in being able to respond to grievances. There have been other ethnic and religious tensions and violence, including between sections of Buddhist community and minority religious communities such as Evangelical Christians and the Muslim community, which have resulted in attacks on places of worship and localized riots, particularly outside the North and East, especially in the post-war period.9 Sri Lanka represents something of a conundrum, as, on the one hand, it has been able to maintain significantly high development indicators (particularly with respect to literacy, infant mortality, and life expectancy), especially when compared to its South Asian neighbors. Despite multiple crises that besieged the State, Sri Lanka has an unbroken record of elections and parliamentary democracy, having achieved universal franchise in 1931. There are, on the other hand, serious democratic deficits and threats to fundamental human security. While successive governments introduced 250 S. HAYWARD AND M. RAHEEM specific measures to devolve and decentralize power and to create and strengthen systems of checks and balances, there has been a strong counter- impulse to centralize powers and systemically undermine independent institutions such as the judiciary, public service and independent commissions, which became increasingly politicized under the rule of President Rajapaksa (November 2005–January 2015). Marginalization and the lack of representation continue to be key political challenges. Sri Lanka has one of the lowest levels of representation of women in parliament in the world at approximately 5%.10 There is little political support for the introduction of a quota system as seen in India, Pakistan and Bangladesh. However, the current electoral system of proportional representation has allowed for greater representation of both minority and minor parties, allowing for ethnic and political diversity in Parliament and other elected bodies. Nonetheless the under-representation of minorities in state structures, particularly the military and police continue to be a critical problem. Finally, Sri Lanka is seen to be a society that runs on patronage making it difficult to break through network systems that have been able to consolidate themselves through political parties, governance structures and economic systems. Despite this, the country has seen significant socio-economic changes since independence, including the adoption of neo-liberal market policies from the late 1970s that have altered production modes at the macro and local levels, as seen with the reliance on exporting labor, primarily to the Middle East, to sustain the balance of payments as well as family incomes.

ATTEMPTS AT PEACE There were several attempts to broker peace between the Government of Sri Lanka (GOSL) and the LTTE over the course of the war, including an array of mediation interventions and direct bilateral negotiations, resulting in cycles of large-scale violence and peace talks. The increasingly protracted conflict saw international assistance through mediation in the late 1980s, when India strong-armed the two sides into an agreement for devolution of power to the provinces and attempted to enforce peace through a peacekeeping force that was ultimately forced to withdraw. In 2000, the GOSL and LTTE announced that Norway had been invited to facilitate peace talks between them, resulting in a new peace process that would later be backed by the EU, US, and Japan, who incorporated SRI LANKA: SOCIAL COHESION ...IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER 251 economic incentives into the process by attempting to make aid conditional on progress toward a peace settlement. The process secured a ceasefire agreement in 2002 that was prompted by a military stalemate, economic difficulties for the state, and an increasingly hostile international context for terrorist groups in the wake of the events of September 11, 2001. Following the signing of the Ceasefire Agreement (CFA) between the Government and the LTTE in February 2002, there was an influx of peace related projects. Substantive donor funding to support a whole range of peace related activities coupled with a mushrooming of NGOs was a significant feature of the CFA landscape. The influx of funding and international actors in the wake of the Boxing Day Tsunami of December 2004 added further impetus to these trends. Sri Lanka in effect served as a peace laboratory for a variety of initiatives. Some of the more ambitious projects on the ground included early warning systems, land mediation committees and community-level peace committees, in addition to those aimed at the higher tiers of political leadership to find a breakthrough to arrive a political settlement and interim arrangements.

THE END OF THE WAR President Mahinda Rajapaksa was elected in 2005 on a platform that was critical of the Norwegian-facilitated peace process. Upon assuming office, President Rajapaksa resumed talks with the LTTE, which focused on maintaining the ceasefire agreement, but these negotiations quickly fell apart in the face of obstinacy on the part of both parties, a series of delays, and rising violence with almost daily casualties by the end of 2005. The closure of a waterway in the East of the country by the LTTE in July 2006 resulted in the Government launching a full-scale military operation that led to the full resumption of war. The Government made swift headway in areas long held by the LTTE, taking advantage of a split that had occurred within the ranks of the organization between its Northern and Eastern commands. The LTTE had over the course of the war succeeded in capturing significant swaths of territory and established a de facto proto state. By 2007, however, the Government had captured LTTE-held areas in the east and turned its focus to the north. Throughout 2008 to May 2009, the Government reclaimed the LTTE strongholds in the north, eventually cornering the beleaguered outfit and its top leadership, along with a trapped civilian population, in a small strip of land on the northeastern coast of the island. There, the top LTTE leadership was 252 S. HAYWARD AND M. RAHEEM killed, including LTTE leader Prabhakaran, and the Government was able to officially declare an end to Sri Lanka’scivilwar. The government’s military victory rested on a tightly orchestrated attack plan and script that extended beyond the battlefield. In addition to swelling the ranks of its military and executing its systematic bombard- ment against the LTTE-held territory, it also pursued political and social tactics meant to silence critics and reduce opposition to its military operations at home and abroad. As its onslaught in the north ramped up, the government kicked out non-governmental organizations and international humanitarian agencies such as the United Nations and the International Committee of the Red Cross from the main theater of war. Journalists were prevented from visiting the north, and those in the rest of the country were harassed or even killed or disappeared if they published stories deemed critical of the government and its campaign. Activists and intellectuals were similarly silenced by the government’s intimidation tactics or fierce public campaigns (often entailing personal attacks) waged by supporters of the government’s efforts. Criticism of the government, including by media, was declared equivalent to treason by government officials, including the Secretary of Defense Gothbaya Rajapaksa (the President’s brother). The war resulted in massive civilian losses in the east and north, which also experienced large-scale displacement, but there were also killings and abductionsinotherpartsofthecountry. The government’s victory was achieved at a bloody cost. It is still not exactlyknownhowmanycivilians trapped between the LTTE and Government battle were killed in the last stages of the war. A report by a U.N. Panel of Experts that investigated war crimes in the final phase of Sri Lanka’scivilwarcited“tens of thousands” of casualties primarily resulting from Government shelling.11 While in some quarters the victory was heralded as a successful war on terror using brute force, for others the war’sendwasdecriedasanactofgenocide.

DRIVERS OF CONFLICT IN DEEPLY DIVIDED SRI LANKA: POLITICAL,SOCIAL, AND ECONOMIC CONDITIONS As is clear from the description above, Sri Lanka’s ongoing ethnic conﬂict is driven by political, social, and economic factors. For the sake of clarity and comparison with the other cases in this study, we seek here to summarize succinctly these central drivers, while reminding readers that each of these drivers and the factors shaping them are complex. SRI LANKA: SOCIAL COHESION ...IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER 253

At root, the Sri Lanka conflict is about a centralized state. More specifically, the centralization of power in Colombo was perceived by those living in minority regions as the vehicle through which the majority Sinhala community secured and entrenched policies and institutions that advantaged them politically, economically, and socially. Disempowered local governance structures, established through the 13th Amendment to the constitution, rarely receive the funding, powers and and institutional support needed to govern effectively. Despite measures to devolve and decentralize power, administrative practices, policies and laws to counter such measures have also been introduced. This has fueled an ethos of citizen disempowerment throughout the country. Elections tend to reinforce ethnic difference as ethnic-based parties and politicians from multi-ethnic parties appeal to their constituencies. The consolidation of the centralized state coupled with a majoritarian parliamentary system have served to deepen Sinhala nationalism’s claim to Sri Lanka as a Sinhala Buddhist homeland at critical junctures, which leads to its being further and more deeply institutionalized in the political system. Elections have also strengthened Tamil and Muslim communal politics and nationalism. political parties tend to be ethnic-based thus policy debates are inherently framed by ethnic positions and so reify ethnic identification and divides. The Sri Lankan political system is hamstrung by patronage practices. In 2013, Sri Lanka had one of the most extensive lists of ministerial positions in the world with 93 ministerial positions that were offered to politicians in exchange for supporting certain policies or platforms.12 It has become common for elected politicians to switch parties while in office. Patronage practices and fickle allegiance to political parties serve as major barriers to addressing complex issues, particularly when it comes to building the sustainable coalitions necessary to address difficult problems. With the consolidation of the executive political system, parliament has proved unable to serve as a check against excesses. The post-independence period has seen an overall weakening of the system of checks-and-balances – as key institutions such as the public service, judiciary, and independent oversight commissions have become increasingly politicized and weakened in terms of their independence. Thus, the system of democracy has serious limitations for local disempowered communities who are unable to secure protection through patronage networks. Successive governments and militant groups both in the north and south have attempted to control key civil society institutions including the media and NGOs in a manner that resulted in their silencing and restraint on dissent. 254 S. HAYWARD AND M. RAHEEM

Sinhala Buddhist nationalism has provided the ideological foundation for the centralization of political power and for economic and other social benefits to Sinhala at the expense of minority communities. The modern manifestation of this ideology grew out of a Buddhist revivalist movement in the twentieth century, which sought to “purify” Buddhist practice, the state, and the Sinhala community through reassertion of Sinhala culture and Buddhist principles and attack on perceived “foreign” and colonial elements blamed for weakening the Sinhala community.13 Sri Lanka lacks an inclusive national identity. Minority communities are perceived as threatening to the State and to the Sinhala community, and as vehicles for various international agendas. For example, the Sri Lankan Muslim community has recently been accused of advancing a wider agenda of the international Muslim community to spread its influence in Asia and the globe, while expanding its commercial interests and Islamic practices across the island. The Tamil community, meanwhile, is perceived to be backed by Indian Tamil or Western interests, while many assume Christian communities are linked to Western agendas. Thus minority communities often feel on the defensive, assumed suspect and somehow foreign, and so made to feel not authentically Sri Lankan. Inter-ethnic distrust between the majority and minority communities undermines social cohesion. Although Sri Lanka has pockets of homogenous populations, for the most part the country is heterogeneous such that while districts have sizeable majorities of either Sinhala or Tamil majorities, other ethnic and religious communities are also represented. Inter-minority distrust and violence also remains a barrier to peace and social cohesion. This is particularly the case between Tamils and Muslim communities in the East of the country, where distrust and sporadic incidents, including of violence, spurs insecurity and undermines inter- minority collaboration to secure and advance minority rights. Aside from tensions between ethnic communities, intra-ethnic conflict also contributes to social fragmentation. Tamils living in different parts of the country find it difficult to collaborate with one another for political cause. Within the Muslim community, conservative and orthodox practitioners, some influenced by Saudi Arabian and other Middle Eastern influences, are increasingly at conflict with “traditional” Sri Lankan Muslim communities. Within the Christian community, newer and aggressively proselytizing evangelical Christian groups have sparked tensions with mainline Protestant and Catholic communities. Their inroads have also sparked violent conflict with Buddhist communities who resent their proselytizing. In addition, caste and SRI LANKA: SOCIAL COHESION ...IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER 255 class difference continue to serve as barriers to social cohesion despite official state policies turning a blind eye to caste. Caste conflict is reflected in the JVP/State intra-Sinhala conflict, and in tensions between Sri Lankan Tamils and those more recently migrated from India. According to what limited data is available, some 20–30% of the population in Sri Lanka has experienced caste-based discrimination according to a 2009 study.14 Conflict within Sinhala communities also expresses itself through attacks against Buddhists considered too unorthodox or, in rare cases, too extreme. Post-independence efforts sought to curb perceived Tamil economic advances during the colonial period, for example through mandating that government employees should have knowledge of Sinhala. This contributed to the emigration of both Tamil-speaking and English-speaking persons from Sri Lanka. Land is a significant and symbolic economic resource and post-colonial land colonization and irrigation policies have focused on opening up new lands to landless persons, particularly Sinhalese in areas perceived to be dominated by minority populations. Land distribution, settlement, and policies continue to be an area of political and ethnic sensitivity. Various Tamil nationalist efforts during the war received significant funding from diaspora communities abroad, which fed the conflict in literal financial terms, as well as on more social- psychological terms – fueling Sinhala anxiety about its vulnerability as a beleaguered religious and ethnic minority within the wider region. Land grabs by State actors, particularly the military in the post-war context have fed minority fears of increasing ‘Sinhalisation’ sponsored by the State. While many Muslims throughout the country live in situations of poverty in both urban and rural contexts, there is nonetheless a solid segment of wealthy Muslim business elites. The economic advances of these Muslim business elite and their dominance, both real and perceived, in certain sectors of the economy have stoked Sinhala grievance, illustrated by recent attacks on Muslim-owned businesses. The civil war contributed to regional economic imbalances. Numbers from 2009, the year the country emerged from the war, are illustrative. That year, the Western province, home to the commercial hub of Colombo, accounted for 45% of gross domestic product (GDP). The provinces experiencing the next highest GDP were from areas with Sinhala majorities, while the GDP of the provinces in which Tamil and Muslim minority communities are a greater proportion of the population, also the theater of war, experienced some of the lowest GDP rates. The Eastern Province contributed less than 6%, while the Northern Province’s contribution to GDP was only 3%, 256 S. HAYWARD AND M. RAHEEM evenwhiletheyhaverecordedsignificant growth rates in the post-war period.15 Batticaloa in the East for instance recorded the highest poverty rate of all districts in 2009/2010.16 Economic downturns and issues such as inflation coupled with unemployment and underemployment provide an added dimension that at times have exacerbated inter-ethnic relations. Sri Lankan history accounts for long-standing tensions between ethnic groups. Yet the deterioration of inter-ethnic and inter-religious relationships at the local level, which has stymied popular movements for peace or federalism and fueled local violence in ethnically mixed areas, is more a symptom of the current conflict which in turn became a driver in its own right, rather than a root cause. Collectively, the complex political, social, and economic roots of Sri Lanka’s conflict have served to divide communities in Sri Lanka, foster competition between ethnic groups and within them, and so contributed to social fragmentation and disharmony, leaving Sri Lanka a deeply divided country.

BUILDING PEACE IN THE WAKE OF MILITARY VICTORY Unlike many conflict situations, there was no process of negotiations or political transition that created space for political transformation and to address root conflict drivers at the conclusion of Sri Lanka’scivilwar. Although the military conclusion to the war resulted in dramatic changes to the political landscape, primarily the decimation of the LTTE, some four years after the war, when this research was conducted, there remained questions as to whether some of the key issues relating to the conflict would be substantively addressed. Sri Lanka was able to claim that it was on the road to recovery, pointing as indicators to the reconstruction and improvement of infrastructure, mass resettlement of displaced persons, and the holding of elections, but on other issues the pace of change was proceed- ing at a glacial pace, at best. Hence, Sri Lankans working on peace and human rights defined the context as post-war rather than post-conflict. Indeed, because the conflict in its last years had been framed by the Rajapaksa Government and others purely as a “war on terror,” then according to this narrative the cause of the conflict – a terrorist group- had been dealt with and so the conflict was resolved, according to the Rajapaksa-led government. Yet, since the end of the war some drivers of the ethnic conflict had been sustained or even exacerbated revealing the more complex nature of this conflict. Post-war “triumphalism”–celebration of the state’s victory over the LTTE – strengthened Sinhala nationalism, resurfacing mythic narratives SRI LANKA: SOCIAL COHESION ...IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER 257 celebrating Sinhala kingship on the island.17 Meanwhile, failures to address long-standing minority grievances, including those from the conduct of the last stages of the war (in which many thousands of Tamil civilians died or disappeared), fueled anxiety and pervasive fear among minority groups. During its tenure, the Rajapaksa Government consolidated its control, thus entrenching a centralized state and augmenting the military’s role in nation-building. Politically, the government extended the writ of the state over areas where there had been a dual administration with the LTTE at best, and held a series of elections to demonstrate the “restoration of democracy.”18 Yet, critics asserted that this democracy had serious limitations, pointing to the Rajapaksa Government’s adoption in the post-war period of a series of measures that undermined democratic principles. For example, the 18th Amendment to the Constitution, passed soon after the end of the war, further centralized power in Colombo and abolished term limits for the president (this move was undone by a 19th Amendment to the Constitution passed by Mahinda Rajapaksa’s successor in 2015). The Government was able to encourage and coerce opposition parliament members to crossover to the ruling party, which along with the internal conflicts within most of the political parties, rendered political parties incredibly unstable and added to the record-breaking volume of the Sri Lankan cabinet.19 Even while the government’s argument for sustaining militarization was justified as necessary to prevent a resurgence of the LTTE, there were concerns that allegations of human rights violations by the military and its ongoing occupation of land in the North and East fed into the grievances of the Tamil people and that its continuing and expanded post- war role was serving as an obstacle to transition to a sustainable peace. As previously noted, the overall post-war governance framework is problematic, with serious infringements of the rule of law and a continuation of the culture of impunity as noted by then UN High Commissioner for Human Rights, Navi Pillay, who remarked after her visit to the island in August 2013 that “The war may have ended, but in the meantime democracy has been undermined and the rule of law eroded ...I am deeply concerned that Sri Lanka, despite the opportunity provided by the end of the war to construct a new vibrant, all-embracing state, is showing signs of heading in an increasingly authoritarian direction.”20 In economic terms, the Rajapaksa Government had a very particular model for post-war Sri Lanka. Development was placed front and center as the panacea for addressing a variety of social, political and economic issues. For 258 S. HAYWARD AND M. RAHEEM the war-affected areas the government had, with substantive contributions from the international community, provided humanitarian assistance and attempted to restore basic services and provide large-scale infrastructure. Four years after the war, however, the government, when dealing with international donors, had become increasingly reluctant to make distinctions between the Northern and Eastern provinces and other regions in the country, despite the distinct impact that the war has had on these local economies. As demonstrated, the immediate post-war context was marked by an active denial (and even resistance) on the part of the state about the specific challenges related to ethno-political conflict and minority grievances, instead of a debate on the scale and extent of particular problems and the nature of solutions, even those not directly relating to the war. As a result, actors working on programming seeking to bolster social cohesion effectively downplayed certain issues or ignored specific areas because they were seen as politically contentious and threatening to an obstructionist and suspicious government. Relatedly, in 2012 there was an upsurge in vitriolic rhetoric and incidents of violence against the Muslim community by extreme Buddhist groups, particularly the monk-led group known as the Bodu Bala Sena (BBS). In addition there had been a steady wave of attacks on Evangelical churches, priests, and members, fed by Sinhala triumphalism, frequently involving members of Buddhist clergy.21 The creation and implementation of robust government-led policies to address the underlying conflict appeared slim in 2013. The government appeared to be further regressing in its stance on a political solution, commencing yet another initiative aiming at arriving at a political consensus without providing a public position on the previous initiative it commissioned, or meeting the most minimalist positions of the Tamil National Alliance (the major Tamil national party representing Tamils in the North and East), with whom it was engaged in bilateral talks.22 Simultaneously, the Government continued to fail to empower the existing system of power sharing – the provincial council system established under the 13th Amendment – especially in the Eastern Province; instead it attempted to further withdraw powers provided to the provincial councils.23 In terms of a public face, the Government appeared more willing to engage on specific aspects pertaining to reconciliation issues, although both within the country and outside there were serious questions as to whether the Government was committed to addressing substantive reconciliation issues or was merely responding to international pressure through a series of face- saving measures. Following the bloody end of the war in May 2009, the SRI LANKA: SOCIAL COHESION ...IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER 259

Government sought to frame what aspects of reconciliation it would address. It was primarily activities, such as youth exchanges and language training, that were deemed acceptable. Central Government authorities did not approve others, such as psycho-social counseling and peacebuilding programs, particularly those designed for implementation in the north.24 Bowing to international pressure, the government launched a Lessons Learned and Reconciliation Commission (LLRC) in 2010, which conducted public information-gathering sessions in Colombo and parts of the island and made recommendations for addressing lingering grievances and supporting reconciliation.25 Although there were concerns expressed both in terms of the parameters and process the LLRC followed, the LLRC made a number of important recommendations recognized as critical for consolidating peace in the country.26 The process also created a space for individuals and communities to voice their ongoing concerns, including about impunity for abuses of armed actors and the disappearances of loved ones. As of 2013, however, many of the recommendations had not yet moved forward.27 On the ground, especially in the North, incidents of abductions and disappearances continued,28 albeit at a markedly lower rate than during the war. Continued allegations of human rights violations, including incidents of sexual violence by agents of the state, continued in the post-war period raising concern that the culture of impunity had not yet ended.29 In the post-war context, the Rajapaksa Government adopted a smoke- screen approach to reconciliation, making it increasingly difficult to determine how or whether the Government would address some of these tougher issues. It was clear that it had sought to demonstrate interest and willingness while limiting the acceptable framework for dealing with thorny issues related to reconciliation, especially those concerning accountability and political transformation. While it would have been easy to claim there were (and remain) many voices within the Government, and that it is a multi-party, multi-ethnic coalition with a multiplicity of views, it was nevertheless clear that there was a lack of commitment to developing consensus on some of the critical issues relating to peace and the development of an authentic social cohesion. The aggressive Government rhetoric on issues of accountability and human rights also created an extremely difficult environment in the country for those attempting to work on issues of post-war justice and peace. It has not been a shortage of policy frameworks, action plans and commissions throughout the years to address the underlying issues driving ethnic conflict, but lack of political will. 260 S. HAYWARD AND M. RAHEEM

SPACE FOR SOCIAL COHESION IN A RESTRICTIVE CONTEXT Immediate post-war Sri Lanka offered a challenging context to carry out social cohesion work. Although the end of the war provided a significant opportunity to address both the vertical and horizontal axes of social cohesion, the dominant trends outlined above made it difficult for social cohesion projects to be implemented. While the Government proved willing to support and facilitate projects involving service delivery and improving the capacity of the state, it was less encouraging, if not openly obstructionist, of activities seeking to strengthen democracy and ethnic reconciliation. In fact, the Rajapaksa Government neither provided an enabling environment nor made substantive progress in offering its own solutions. While there were a variety of exogenous and endogenous factors that contributed to this, the principal challenge appeared to be the government’s post-war policies and approach. There were serious questions relating to the commitment and even interest on the part of much of the central government to address social cohesion. As one development partner put it “in theory, yes, the government has the same definition [of social integration as the donors]. But the government is not monolithic. The deeper understanding of the concept has not been fully internalized. The Ministry of Social Integration has a lot of work to do to mainstream throughout other ministries.”30 Hence, even while the government claimed to be working on multiple aspects of social cohesion, it is questionable whether there was a shared understanding of the problems, let alone the solutions. The government’s move to change the name of the ministry involved in dealing with some of the key divisive issues identified with the conflict, from “National Integration” to “Social Integration,” illustrates the government’s efforts to delimit both the terminology and the conceptual framework of the conflict. The mission of the Ministry of Social Integration, which operated from 2010 to 2015, was described as “Policy formulation, guidance and facilitation to create a developed and socially integrated trilingual society that assures rights of one and all and respects each other.”31 In April 2013, the Ministry introduced its National Policy Framework for Social Integration (NPFSI), arguably the central policy setting out the Rajapaksa Government’s approach to promoting social cohesion.

The NPFSI is a roadmap for the process of social integration in Sri Lanka. Social cohesion presupposes the inclusion of all citizens through equal opportunities and equal access to services such as education, healthcare, SRI LANKA: SOCIAL COHESION ...IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER 261

employment, social protection and social services, judicial, economic, political and cultural activities etc. Thus, the process of social integration results in the minimization and/or elimination of discrimination, inequalities, marginalization, fragmentation or exclusion. The design and systematic implementation of this process paves the way for inclusion, equity, realizing substantive freedoms and a sense of belonging.32

In its NPFSI, the Ministry described its two objectives as: (1) safeguard fundamental and human rights and promote social and legal protection; (2) foster cohesion, harmony and inclusion through the assurance of socio-economic wellbeing and social justice. It described itself as working on a rights-based approach to institutionalize equality and the upward mobility of all throughout the country, helping coordinate an inter- ministerial committee to mainstream social integration efforts throughout the government, and identified three pillars to the social integration process: ethics, education, and empowerment. While the policy pin- pointed a number of areas, both in terms of sector and particular vulnerable populations, that required policy attention, and highlighted key issues where work should be carried out, such as on language, there was nonetheless a striking and crucial gap in its policy framework. In all of the Ministry documentation reviewed for this study, including those available publicly and those provided by Ministry staff, there was almost no discussion of the 30-year-old war and its overwhelming impact on social divisions, apart from reference to war-affected populations such as war widows and former combatants, including military personnel. Notably, the NPFSI said very little about ethnic-based marginalization or conflict. Rather, it defined its target vulnerable groups as women, children, and mentally/physically disabled, and “socially marginalized” groups such as plantation workers, returnees from India, and displaced people. As noted by an interviewee working with the Ministry to implement the policy who pointed out that it was not conceptualised as a post- conflict policy. This respondent further admitted that there was little political will for empowering society and creating a sense of belonging through fostering a national identity that incorporated multiple identities beyond Sinhala Buddhist. While the policy did seek to reduce and eliminate marginalization and exclusion, its approach was limited, particularly with respect to addressing the multiple ethno-religious tensions and conflicts. In that, the policy was highly problematic and could be seen as an attempt to ignore or even deny the existence of such conflicts. 262 S. HAYWARD AND M. RAHEEM

DILEMMAS OF “LOCAL OWNERSHIP” Even while donors, mainly for lack of any other real space during the Rajapaksa era to engage with the State on these issues, were canvassing to work with the Ministry of Social Integration, many realized the limitations of the policy framework and did not also expect it to be fully implemented by the government. “Sri Lankan history is a graveyard of these kinds of frameworks”33 is how one development partner put it, suggesting that this was a problem not just unique to the Rajapaksa Government but is systemic. The government had not completely disallowed social cohesion projects. Rather, it had limited the scope for both the variety and scale of social cohesion projects. As one donor agency noted, “we had proposals come back from [the government] with red circles around village exchanges, community-based organizational capacity building and twining schools.”34 Over time, as the distance between the controversial end of the war grew, the Rajapaksa Government provided greater space and permission for specific projects, particularly those pertaining to exchange visits of youth and sports related coexistence activities, but it continued to resist projects involving political awareness raising or the establishment of community level committees, at least in the north and east of the country. Illustrating the tenacity and commitment of Sri Lankans to advance peace, there was despite these challenges a significant volume of projects undertaken in the north and east, where constraints by the Government tended to be tighter. Some were taking place with the permission of government officials and sometimes even with their presence at such events, while others were occurring under-the-radar, with civil society organizations and others folding coexistence and empowerment activities into more politically “acceptable” activities such as livelihood projects. Some civil society organizations and community members involved in such activities encountered harassment and surveillance, serving as a constant reminder to them of the continuing lack of space for meaningful transformation. In contrast to the post-CFA peace boom period, the post-war period saw a restrained roster of initiatives aimed at peacebuilding. This was due to a variety of reasons including the limited donor funding both in terms of allocations within Sri Lanka but also globally given the economic downturn, and was not just due to the constraints placed by the Rajapaksa Government. While the post-CFA period saw a variety of peace building SRI LANKA: SOCIAL COHESION ...IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER 263 projects, a key fad was the establishment of inter-ethnic peace committees at the community level. While noting the volume of projects and the significant space for such activities during that period, there are questions relating to impact and sustainability of these projects, which we will discuss below. While there were significant differences in the local dynamics across regions between the post-CFA and immediate post-war periods, such as in the East where the situation seemed more volatile during the former period, with a higher frequency of inter-community violence particularly between the Tamil and Muslim communities, it is difficult to argue that underlying grievances and the relations had changed significantly, or had been substantially addressed. Instead, it appears that the problems were merely contained and there continued to be a risk of local level issues serving as triggers for larger crises and violence. The tensions that had emerged in the South regarding issues of religious sites, particularly between Sinhalese Buddhists and Muslims, highlighted the need for such mechanisms, or at least the need to think through alternate confidence and trust building measures and early warning/response mechanisms. Thus, it appeared that the context demanded initiatives promoting inter-ethnic social cohesion, as the post-war context had seen a number of incidents of inter-ethnic/religious tensions, some of which resulted in violence. With regard to some initiatives, actors other than the Government, including political parties, religious leaders, members of the business community, academics, prominent personalities and civil society organizations, had a vital role to play in both addressing disputes and underlying problems. However, it appeared that such initiatives also were limited in nature. For instance, in Mannar in the north of the country, Tamil-Muslim tensions, particularly over ownership and access to land, coupled with the experiences of displacement, violence, differential treatment and suspicions manifested themselves in a number of high profile incidents with far-reaching impacts, not just for the local communities in the specific locations but also relations between the two communities in the North. The failure of the Central Government to directly resolve some of these disputes or to provide a facilitating environment for others to do so was perceived by some actors as not being merely neglect but strategic. Even while the Central Government was attempting to consolidate its hegemony in the post-war context, other less powerful actors were jockeying for power at the local level, sometimes advantaging one 264 S. HAYWARD AND M. RAHEEM community’s claims over another’s, but finding themselves constrained by local or regional level power disputes and the machinery of the Central Government, leaving ultimate authority to the latter. Given the political environment, there was a climate of self-regulation in the post-war context. Organizations and individuals active in the fields of peace and reconciliation self-censored, avoiding speaking out and engaging in actions that could be seen as threatening by the Government. The overall context had a corrosive effect on civil society activism resulting in distrust between groups, making public dialogue and mobilization all the more difficult. The largely external challenges made it difficult for civil society actors to function, with an added burden that some of these actors who work on issues of social justice and peace were unwilling to work on specific aspects of reconciliation, including those related to inter-ethnic, inter-religious, intra-ethnic and caste. In other words, the prejudices and tensions in the larger society were replicated within the civil society sector.

“COHESION” VERSUS “INTEGRATION”:WORDS THAT MATTER IN SRI LANKA In 2013, the term “social cohesion” was not frequently used by either local or international actors involved in peacebuilding and development projects in Sri Lanka. There was limited understanding of the concept. For instance, actors from civil society we interviewed, many of whom claimed to be engaged in projects addressing some aspect of social cohesion, emphasized the horizontal dimension of the term and did not reference the vertical dimension when defining it. Instead, the term that was more commonly used was “social integration.” This term lacks some of the conceptual definition and has limited usage at a global level, but was used in Sri Lanka to explain work involving the two key dimensions of social cohesion as defined by this project.35 It is notable that even key international institutions such as the United Nations or the World Bank that use the term “social cohesion” at the global level, nonetheless tended to use “social integration” in their day-to-day project operations in Sri Lanka. The increasing use of these terms to define projects that were in the past described more often as peacebuilding work was viewed with suspicion and even trepidation by some actors, particularly national NGOs and individual staff of several international organizations involved in coexistence-related activities. Even while the term encapsulated a meaning that may not be SRI LANKA: SOCIAL COHESION ...IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER 265 captured in concepts such as peacebuilding, it also represented a compromise for many actors who did not necessarily see it as the ideal term for the work that they did, and who would have prefered to use the descriptive categories of peacebuilding and reconciliation. The shift in the global policy discourse to the social cohesion framework took place simultaneously to the Rajapaksa Government’s own redrafting of terminology. This proved advantageous for both parties, given that social cohesion/social integration were less historically and politically-loaded terms than peacebuilding and human rights, both of which were controversial to the Government and elements of Sri Lankan society critical of work done during the CFA period. These terms at some level connote continuing disharmony, upheaval, and crisis, whereas social cohesion and social integration were perceived to be newer terms, broad and vague enough to capture a variety of issues that were by no means distinct to conflict contexts, such as the marginalization of the disabled or minor minorities. “It has a default legitimacy,” noted the head of a research institution in describing the term’s acceptability.36 The broad scope of these terms has its advantages, in particular that they were seen to be less contentious than other terms relating to coexistence in the immediate post-war context. As such, terms like “social integration” or “social cohesion” had become a euphemism among donors and peacebuilding organizations to describe their peacebuilding and reconciliation activities. As one major donor pointed out “We have taken out human rights, peace, or any reference to ethnic groups. We’ve taken out reference to north and east. They [the Government] like the term “backward regions.” And now they don’t like “reconciliation.”37 A number of donors who were interviewed pointed out that they felt compelled to stop using terms such as peacebuilding, human rights and media training for fear of the Government not approving the projects either at the ministerial level or when the implementing agencies attempted to secure district/provincial level approval (government approval for the expressed purpose of coordination was strictly required in the post-war context). There was uncertainty about whether the change was only one of terminology or also of substance. In some instances, it appeared donors had become increasingly wary of supporting particular types of project or even organizations deemed controversial by the Rajapaksa Government. For some donors, using these terms provided a cover to carry out activities that if labeled as human rights or reconciliation would be unlikely to secure government approval. For these donors this shift was pragmatic 266 S. HAYWARD AND M. RAHEEM as it allowed them to get the buy-in of the Rajapaksa Government and avoid losing programs and projects that may have been rejected due to opposition toward or misunderstanding of the terms being used.

The labels and words are very important. Certain words can be perceived as loaded by some of our partners. I have seen a number of processes that were unable to reach their target because of jargon ...Over time we realized if we were going to be able to work with the government we had to use terms that were more palatable to it – [and] social integration is. We are trying to get closer to its vocabulary.38

However, the use of social cohesion also afforded donors the space to claim they were tackling critical relational issues when in fact they may have been avoiding key issues intrinsic to reconciliation and state reform, instead restricting themselves to providing technical assistance to relevant line ministries in the form of computers, desks, and paying for salaries of ministry officials. Donors in Sri Lanka faced clear and significant challenges, but it is by no means clear that all those working in social cohesion used the space strategically or tactically utilised acceptable terminology, Rather the switch in terminology was symptomatic of a change in issues tackled by and approaches used by donors, government, and even civil society organizations in the country. During the Rajapaksa post-war period, donors felt compelled to directly support government actors and institutions, given the obstruc- tions civil society actors faced in carrying out such projects. This resulted in a narrowing scope of activities supported, and even led to donors adopting highly problematic positions, including the acceptance of military involvement in development and community level activities, and reluctance to raise critical issues. As one independent researcher noted about the UN Development Program (UNDP) and its attempts to deal with social cohesion issues: “[The UNDP has] no political perspective. They would use the term social cohesion language because it’s politically neutral. They won’t talk about land issues or inter-ethnic stuff ...or to the extent they do, it’s about putting band-aids on the conflicts rather than dealing with the underlying issues ...They are not strengthening social cohesion.”39 Donors with an interest in supporting social cohesion work in Sri Lanka were faced with a difficult dilemma even when they were able to allocate funds in a challenging global context. Donors working on infrastructure- SRI LANKA: SOCIAL COHESION ...IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER 267 development found it easier to allocate and disburse funds, while those working in human rights found the implementation of projects more difficult.40 For other donors, attempting to improve service delivery and governance the challenges were more bureaucratic, in terms of securing approval from the relevant line ministry, or tactical, in ensuring other actors involved in implementing the project did not subvert the project, be they Government or NGOs. Given the Rajapaksa Government’s rhetoric to restore democracy and elected bodies in the East and North coupled with its swift holding of elections in the aftermath of the military victory, its reluctance and even obstruction of efforts to strengthen other aspects of democratic governance came as a surprise to some actors. Donors realized, over time, that there was an on-going attempt to disempower local authorities, including through delaying the disbursement the funds or providing only a portion of the allotted amount owed by the central Government to TNA- dominated local authorities, which undercut the efforts of donors to build the capacity of local authorities and thereby increase their effectiveness and the overall empowerment of citizenry at the local level.41

RELIGIOUS ACTORS AND ENGAGEMENT IN SOCIAL ISSUES From the village clergy to the national level religious hierarchy, religious leaders are perceived to play significant and multiple roles in Sri Lankan society. They have played influential roles in Sri Lankan history impacting socio-political issues, especially those related to the conflict. The first major political assassination related to the ethnic conflict was carried out by a Buddhist monk who shot and killed the Prime Minister S.W.R.D. Bandaranaike in 1958 because he felt the Prime Minister was failing in his task of protecting the Sinhala Buddhist community’s interests. The political leadership of Sri Lanka has been careful not to antagonize the Buddhist religious hierarchy, particularly the heads of the three schools, the mahanayakes, given their proven ability to mobilize public opposition to peace processes and so derail them. Buddhist monks have been actively involved in and even played leadership roles in Sinhala nationalist- Buddhist protest movements, including the Patriotic National Movement and now the BBS, movements vocal about perceived threats to Buddhism and Sinhala Sri Lanka (often pointing a finger to other ethnic and religious groups as the source of the threat), and at times critical of certain government policies or its perceived 268 S. HAYWARD AND M. RAHEEM inaction. This level of political involvement is not matched by clergy from the other religions on the island, though individual clergy have been close to certain political groups, including some Tamil Christian priests (who have played a prominent role in the peace lobby) associated with Tamil nationalist groups and even the LTTE. Given the roles – both constructive and destructive – that Sri Lanka’s religious leaders have played in shaping conflict dynamics, it is not surprising that those involved in supporting and carrying out peace work in Sri Lanka acknowledge a need to leverage the influential role they play. At the meeting at which the evaluation of Norway’s facilitation of the peace process was unveiled, Eric Solheim, the head of that facilitation, said that the biggest regret he had was not paying sufficient attention to the religious dynamics and engaging the Sangha earlier and more regularly.42 However, a clear challenge has been transforming this recognition of the influence of religious actors, particularly Buddhist clergy, into sustained or strategic engagement of them in peace work. In the interviews carried out for this study it was clear that only a small number of organizations involved in peacebuilding engaged in activities aimed specifically at religious actors. What was more common was engagement with religious actors where they happened to occupy key positions of leadership at the local level. Secondly, they appear to be engaged in a sustained way primarily when religious actors had dual vocations – either heading/working in human rights and peace organizations or acting as lawyers representing non-religious institutions/organization, and in civil society initiatives such as peace committees (not necessarily those organized by NGOs). In these scenarios, especially the second one, the involvement of religious actors was less by design than default. There were multiple reasons cited as to why international and local actors working in peace and governance do not involve religious actors in robust ways. First, mutual distrust persists between religious actors and NGOs. A number of peacebuilding and development actors interviewed remarked on their perception that religious actors were not in agreement with their activities or the underlying values of peace and human rights organizations. For instance, groups working on women’s empowerment said they found it too challenging to involve religious actors in their peace and human rights programs so tended to exclude them. This did not mean that such groups did not involve specific religious clergy persons or that these groups did not address religious issues in their work, including reform of religious laws and practices. Rather, they were more likely to SRI LANKA: SOCIAL COHESION ...IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER 269 exclude than include religious figures in their normal activities, fearing that to include these actors would limit, undermine, or slow down their project work. Second, engagement with religious actions and institution was not a direct programmatic area. An employee of an international agency, when asked whether her agency worked specifically with religious actors, responded: “Nothing so explicit. If at all, just as part of the constituency. No intentional engagement of religious leaders unless they are nominated by the community.”43 This interviewee noted the lack of focus on religious actors was “not thought through,” despite the fact that the agency does support significant peacebuilding work at the community level. Third, given the significant overall limitations for peacebuilding and coexistence work in Sri Lanka at the time, work on coexistence initiatives, constraints on NGOs and the hostile environment were key causes for the limited number and the scale of such projects. Rather than re-thinking existing modes of operation and experimenting with new approaches and target audiences, NGOs and other civil society groups operated cau- tiously. Hence, even if donors wished to engage with religious actors it was not immediately obvious whether religious actors were willing to become more involved with Western donors and NGOs, given their deep- seated suspicion of foreign and NGO interventions.

CHALLENGES ENGAGING THE RELIGIOUS SECTOR Peace and development actors that did work with religious actors on social cohesion cited a number of challenges that needed to be addressed or worked around. To begin, religious clergy were not always seen as neutral or positive figures by other clergy and members of other faiths, or appropriate actors to engage in peace work. This was fueled by suspicions that some clergy were themselves contributing to, or were in some way involved in, fanning problems that deepen religious, ethnic and other social cleavages. The involvement of some Buddhist monks in hardline Sinhala Buddhist politics and activities, including acts of violence, colored perceptions and created prejudices. The post-war context saw a sharp increase in attacks on minority religious targets, particularly those Evangelical Christian and Muslim by Sinhala-Buddhist groups (such as the BBS). In some instances the mobs involved in the violence included Buddhist monks.44 Hence there were underlying assumptions that Buddhist monks tended to reflect majoritarian mindsets and would likely 270 S. HAYWARD AND M. RAHEEM be insensitive or hostile to minority fears and concerns. With respect to Christian leaders, there was a dominant fear of Christianity in Sri Lanka among other religious communities given historical and contemporary efforts of some Christian groups to proselytize, including under the flag of humanitarian aid. There were significant differences with respect to the prominence and role of clergy of the different religious communities in Sri Lanka. Not all religious clerics saw social leadership roles in the wider community as part of their duties and responsibilities. While Buddhist and Christian priests tend to occupy a more dominant role within their communities beyond just their spiritual roles, Muslim imams do not necessarily occupy such an influential role in terms of wider community leadership. Hindu priests are seen to be largely involved in temple rituals, and are not easily drawn into community issues and social projects. The different roles that religious clergy play within their communities and faiths are critical to the skills and experiences they bring to inter- religious forums. Christian clergy generally tend to have more exposure to peace related work due to the more intensive teaching they receive in seminaries on these issues and the activities of the various churches in peace, humanitarian, and pastoral counseling activities, including with and through NGOs. Within the Catholic Church, for instance, there has been emphasis on the need for being more than a “sacramental technician”45 and to developing the capacity of clergy to deal with families and wider social needs. By comparison, Muslim imams who may have spent many years studying at madrasas may have significant knowledge in religious texts and interpretation but not have as much exposure to peace work. This means there was an asymmetry in terms of the participating clergy. This was also seen in the enthusiasm that religious actors brought to these forums, with imams seen as more interested in training sessions in peacebuilding than, say, Christian priests. Buddhist monks and Hindu clergy tended to feel disempowered and/or self-conscious in inter-religious settings about being considered less well educated than other clergy (particularly Christian) who have had access to relatively stronger educational opportunities. Some organizations noted the practical challenges that arise when engaging with religious actors that the organizations must work around. Religious duties such as leading worship and preaching, providing pastoral care, leading rituals, attending or leading classes, officiating at funerals and weddings, and so on, make it difficult for them to commit time and energy to other work (especially given the unpredictable nature of some of these SRI LANKA: SOCIAL COHESION ...IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER 271 responsibilities). Arranging for inter-religious gatherings becomes even more challenging, in that four different religious calendars must be juggled to ensure there is no major religious holiday or obligation that would limit the participation of clergy from any of the traditions. Finally, additional logistical arrangements are necessary to tend to the specific needs of clergy from each tradition, including dietary restrictions and specific meal times, prayer and worship obligations, etc., which in turn calls for awareness of and sensitivity to such issues among those involved in designing and implementing such projects.

MAPPING SOCIAL COHESION PROGRAMS INVOLVING RELIGIOUS ACTORS In recognition of the need to engage religious actors in peace and reconciliation work, and notwithstanding the challenges described above, there were a variety of social cohesion programs involving religious actors. Projects seeking to advance social cohesion primarily fell into three categories: (1) independent local inter-ethnic and inter-religious committees/ councils that arose (largely) indigenously within communities in response to particular needs and which are led by local community leaders; (2) projects designed, initiated, and supported by larger national and international NGOs with Colombo-based offices, often funded by the international donor community; and (3) Government-led programs, some of which were also supported and funded by the international community. We offer in this section a description of a representative project or projects in each of these categories and an analysis of their impacts. During the course of the war, many local peace or inter-religious committees and councils arose throughout the island in order to help mediate local disputes, often those related to the wider conflict. One such example is the Batticaloa Inter-Religious Council, which was established following the 2004 Tsunami when communities were at conflict with one another over the dissemination of rehabilitation funds. The Catholic Bishop in Batticaloa took the initiative to bring together religious representatives from each of the four traditions, with the objective of developing appreciation across lines of difference, mechanisms for communication to resolve local conflict, and to initiate inter-religious responses to those conflicts. Other parts of the north and east also saw the establishment of peace committees, including in Mannar and Akkaraipattu where local level community leaders, including religious actors, attempted to create a 272 S. HAYWARD AND M. RAHEEM mechanism that would represent and relay civilian concerns to armed actors. These locally initiated inter-religious councils established and led by religious leaders, as well as the peace and citizen committees, have arisen and dissolved throughout the life of the conflict in response to community needs and at the initiative of committed and visionary local leaders. Grassroots group tended to operate in a reactive way to conflict – seeking to monitor and respond to local tensions – rather than to strategically and proactively address some of the root causes of the wider conflict, which sometimes may be well beyond their scope and capacity. While some of these committees also attempted to document human rights violations, others were more focused on mediation and crisis management with state actors, militant groups, political groups, and radical factions within these communities.Theywereoftenper- sonality-based, initiated and led by key actors; hence their sustainability was in question. Some of these initiatives were donor reliant, and the amount of work they could do was always dependent on financial support, while the nature of the work depended on pressure from government or armed actors. Despite this, some of these indigenous initiatives displayed relative resilience to funding cycles, based as they were on volunteer participation and being almost entirely community- owned.

NGO-LED EFFORTS Many of the large national peace organizations headquartered in the capital of Colombo have designed and initiated projects seeking to promote inter-ethnic and inter-religious harmony at the local level throughout the country, and at the national level. The period following the 2001 ceaseﬁre agreement was a particularly robust time for the launch of projects along these lines. Many of the projects sought to promote dialogue and peacebuilding skills training in mixed-ethnic groups, and/or promoted inter-group problem-solving mechanisms. For example, from 2003 onward the national organization the Foundation for Co-existence (FCE) created multiple local level mechanisms including peace committees, youth groups and women’s groups all with the purpose of strengthening peace at the community level. One large project, funded by USAID, worked with four of the major national peace NGOs (National Peace Council (NPC), Sarvodaya, Anti- SRI LANKA: SOCIAL COHESION ...IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER 273

War Front, and FCE) to establish People’s Forums (PF) throughout the country. This program, launched in 2004 and coordinated by the US-based Academy for Educational Development, established mixed- ethnic committees in 64 divisions throughout the country, trained to identify local community peace and development needs and to promote inter-ethnic collaboration to address those needs through concrete activities (i.e. language classes, small business, youth programs) and engagement with local authorities. In other words, they sought both to promote inter-group linkages (horizontal connections) and to strengthen civic participation and thereby local government accountability to communities (vertical state/society connections, though an effort to connect the committees with national-level decision-makers and policies fell short). Beginning in 2008, the small Colombo-based organization Center for Peacebuilding and Reconciliation (CPBR) began working to establish a network of religious leaders throughout the country engaged in peace and reconciliation. The program was run not as a time-bound project, but as one of two ongoing thematic programs the organization focuses on (the other focusing on youth), with multiple sources of international funding supporting the initiative. The US-based organization Religions for Peace helped to establish a national-level inter-religious council, which was initiated with assistance from NPC but soon broke away from it so as to be perceived as independent. These latter efforts in particular emphasized horizontal linkages between communities – relationship building through dialogue and collaboration on small, concrete activities. Rarely did they focus on national- level issues related to state structure that were considered sensitive or contentious. Religious leaders from minority communities felt particularly frustrated by the lack of attention to governance issues, and by the lukewarm participation of Buddhist monks in their initiatives, which they believed weakened their ability to effect change in social or political norms. When monks did become involved, meanwhile, it constrained the range of discussion topics or viable activities.

GOVERNMENT EFFORTS As noted above, the government’s social integration policy was, when this research was conducted, funneled through the Ministry of Social Integration. Staff of the Ministry interviewed noted that they engage 274 S. HAYWARD AND M. RAHEEM religious actors as part of their ongoing efforts –through local-level community forums and in special initiatives. For example, the Ministry hosted a forum to gather input on instances of hate speech that had been fostering inter-religious conflict, and invited members of various inter-religious committees, including the Religions for Peace committee based in Colombo. The Ministry was supported in its efforts by several international donors, including the UNDP, and the German and Canadian governments. The Ministry made clear that while these international actors were welcome to support the Ministry’s policies, their assistance was to advance the Ministry’s own action plan and priorities, rather than offer competing frameworks. Staff of those international organizations working with the Ministry noted several challenges. The Ministry was considered weak financially and politically. In this respect, those working with the Ministry were uncertain to what degree there was enough political will behind the Ministry to effect real change, within the Government and to what extent it was “just political theater to show the Western countries what they are doing. ... Are they just symbolic acts, empty, or actually creating some small changes but on local terms? The donors aren’t sure.”46 Still, many donor communities who had previously been working directly with civil society shifted in the post-war context to engage with and through the Government, in large part in response to pressure from the Government, and also out of recognition of the need to work with state structures to get at the wider transformations of conflict drivers, even if this did not seem likely or possible in the current context. The Minister concerned, Vasudeva Nanyakkara was seen as broadly committed to addressing at least some of the critical social integration issues but his position within the cabinet, especially given the concentration of power under President Rajapaksa, was seen as limited. To be sure, these three categories of social cohesion programming could be porous. Notably, some of the indigenous peace or inter-religious committees had been at times integrated into NGO or government-led work, if not entirely absorbed by larger projects. For example peace committee members were appointed to the local committees of the Sri Lankan Monitoring Mission (SLMM) established to monitor and rule on violations of the ceasefire agreement. These involvements resulted in a weakening of the peace committees. An additional challenge was the revitalization of these committees as few younger and more dynamic members were participating in them. SRI LANKA: SOCIAL COHESION ...IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER 275

DONOR-SUPPORTED PROGRAMS:EVALUATING EFFECTIVENESS Donor assistance, in terms of financial, capacity building, diplomatic, and other forms of support have proved crucial in strengthening social cohesion initiatives in Sri Lanka. These initiatives have been successful in strengthening service delivery to areas impacted by natural and conflict- related disaster and improving infrastructure in less developed regions, which has strengthened the vertical axis of social cohesion. Horizontally, local communities remark that the initiatives supported by the donor community have helped create linkages between individuals and groups, increased inter-ethnic understanding and empathy, and created vehicles to address local manifestations of conflict. They have also strengthened overall awareness of rights and democratic processes throughout the country, which have empowered citizenry. At the same time, donor-funded development and peacebuilding support to Sri Lanka has had unintentional consequences that have harmed social cohesion. For example, the failure by the international community and the Sinhala and Tamil communities to include at the table a place for the Muslims in the peace process drove the strengthening of a Muslim ethnic and political identity and a unique sense of grievance during the CFA period in particular, fueled as well by the insecurity and incidents faced by the community on the ground. Some analysts draw a line between Muslims’ exclusion from peace talks, growing Muslim political and ethnic identity and violent conflict between Muslims and Tamils in the East, particularly during the CFA period.47 Of course in providing development support, international organizations are going to be drawn to those communities that are less well off, to under-developed areas and, in contexts of conflict, areas where the conflict is most intense. This meant particular attention to Tamil areas, or mixed areas, rather than the predominantly Sinhala South. That fueled a perception that the international community privileged one ethnic group over another, thereby stoking post-colonial fears about Tamil privileging and sympathy. It did not help that many of the peace organizations in Colombo who were seen to be the darlings of the international community were led by minority actors, including Sinhalese Christians. Even those programs that were specifically seeking to foster social cohesion seemed unable to meet their lofty objectives. In the period following the 2002 ceasefire, many organizations sought to foster inter- ethnic social linkages with the hope that these would create resistance to 276 S. HAYWARD AND M. RAHEEM identity manipulation and mobilization by elites (i.e. community resilience), and would create a broader platform to challenge them (i.e. strengthen democratic processes by empowering a civil society movement holding leaders accountable). However, when large-scale violence resumed in 2006 many of these efforts fell apart. Efforts to mobilize various peace forums and networks established during a period of nation-wide resistance to warfare proved impotent against increasingly polarized polities.

EFFECTIVENESS IN ENGAGING THE RELIGIOUS SECTOR The international community by and large has not engaged the religious sector in Sri Lanka as a sustained strategy for building peace. As noted, this engagement has been limited and project-oriented, and thus, short-term and generally not sustainable beyond the duration of the project life cycle. The fact that religious actors have been marginalized from these efforts has been, in some instances, itself a driver of inter-ethnic discord. That is to say, one could argue that the lack of attention to religious dynamics by outsiders seeking to strengthen peace in Sri Lanka – both as part of national peacemaking and local-level peacebuilding – meant religious leaders felt threatened by the peace processes, and so became more stri- dent in opposition to them over time. As the religious sectors – primarily Buddhist monks – became oppositional toward the peace process, they elevated narratives about a Buddhist state, about threats to Buddhist territory and integrity, and about the neo-colonial agendas of outside facilitators (and particularly a Christian agenda from Norway), that raised fears among the majority community and alienated minority communities. There were a few efforts being implemented during the time of this research to address religious actors with the purpose of increasing social cohesion. While these initiatives attempted to connect religious actors at multiple levels and there is some variation in the approaches followed by the organizations and individuals implementing these projects, there were some basic problems. For instance, much of the inter-religious work around the island was fairly basic or even superﬁcial – prayer/meditation sessions, panel discussions, or workshops. The focus was to emphasize the peaceful teachings of all religions and that which is shared in common between them, without necessarily attempting to deepen the discussion and address contentious issues, including inter-religious tensions and clashes, political solutions to conﬂict, and threats to democracy. SRI LANKA: SOCIAL COHESION ...IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER 277

At the most basic level, these initiatives were meant to have a positive impact on the perceptions, attitudes, and knowledge of the participating religious actors. In addition, it was expected that they would form relationships with clergy from other faiths that would have individual impact while creating conduits for communication across religious tensions and divides. Clergy involved in these initiatives did cite their lasting friendships with clergy from other faith traditions, and times when those relationships have been crucial to addressing local disputes. As noted above, in some of the initiatives that were studied it seemed that that although there was some personal rapport and trust that was established, it did not necessarily mean that the clergy had been able to develop a deep understanding of the central precepts and practices of other religions, hence did not achieve a basic goal that they set out to do. These initiatives were intended to create understanding and trust between the participants from different faiths, which in turn would foster positive relations between their communities. In interviews with some of the individual religious clergy and the NGO personnel involved it was clear that there was some rapport created as a result of these forums, including in areas where the violence and fear resulting from the war had created such polarization and distrust between neighboring communities that there was very little non-functional contact and where children did not know members of other communities. In Trincomalee, a Muslim imam pointed out how a young boy in his village who had not seen a Buddhist monk asked why there was a man wearing a sari.48 The expected role of participating religious leaders was that they would provide some understanding of other faiths to their community members through sermons and other interactions. That these religious leaders met members of other faiths was also intended to serve as an example of crossing ethno-religious divides. In addition, the religious leaders did sometimes engage in joint activities such as collective community volunteer work to paint a mosque or award ceremonies at schools where other religious leaders also attended the event and participated. A Muslim imam who organized a mosque painting project stated that he received objections from some members of his community who felt that clergy from other religions should not be there, but he felt that this provided him an opportunity to explain the importance of such interactions.49 These projects did little to connect to the root drivers of the conflict – to transform society and state centralization – and bring about solutions to 278 S. HAYWARD AND M. RAHEEM address the ethnic conflict. While this would seem an obvious point, the rhetoric and expected outcomes of some projects suggest otherwise. This was due to not only the design of the projects – intentionally seeking not to take on critical issues – but also the inherent limitations of such forums. With regard to the latter, especially in cases where these were community level or even district level forums, religious actors who were involved in such issues felt that they were powerless in the face of overwhelming political actors, especially the State. This effectively alienated participants and minority communities. However, it was important to note that there were high expectations that these forums would be bases for macro-level change. This change needed to be grounded in the realities of power dynamics, the nature of socio-political change, and the capacities of religious actors, be they community-level clergy or district-level religious figures. As one analyst noted, “Our analyses have been surface level. We bring people together and do small programs and we think that will translate into bigger interventions but it doesn’t happen. It’s a long process if you do it right.”50 The forums and activities may often unintentionally reflect the power asymmetry within society. For instance these projects may bolster majoritarianism and Buddhist supremacy. Clergy may reflect the social cleavages and power dynamics within their societies so may be unwilling to address problems relating to class or caste. Organizations involved in inter- religious forums may use meditation as a central component, which is associated more with Buddhism and Hinduism. In addition, there was often a deference given to the Buddhist monks that was not given to others. For example, Buddhist monks would sit in chairs draped in white fabric while others would not. In some contexts this was seen to be giving undue preference to Buddhist monks. Women religious figures are few in number in Sri Lanka but they exist (Buddhist nuns, Christian pastors, and Muslim women scholars); however, they were starkly absent from many of these efforts. International agencies tended to target primarily, if not exclusively, male clerics. Male- dominated religious committees may prove patriarchal and object to addressing issues confronting women, or simply fail to consider women’s priorities as part of their peace work. Thus, religious forums may not prove effective in dealing with some human rights and community concerns, and may even prove obstacles for gender empowerment. Finally, clergy may also be unwilling to challenge the positions taken by religious authorities, political groups, or society at large, preferring instead to work on less SRI LANKA: SOCIAL COHESION ...IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER 279 controversial issues and in less contentious ways. Hence, even while some of these projects may help strengthen or even create social bonds, they “may also consolidate inequality and power relations.”51 In the efforts of national organizations and donors, or even district- level actors to set up forums with religious figures, there was the potential for duplication to take place at multiple levels. Duplication took place in the form of different actors attempting to create similar forums at the district or even the community level, or where the same individuals were involved in multiple forums. Given the relatively limited number of such initiatives this was not observed across the districts. Instead, the more common occurrence is for a district to have a number of such committees, with almost no coordination or even knowledge of what the other was doing. This resulted in scenarios where there may be two or three such forums with some overlap in activities and purposes. For instance at the district level in Batticaloa, there were at least two different high-level forums including the Batticaloa Peace Committee and the Inter-Religious Forum, in addition to initiatives by more national level organizations such as NPC, Sarvodaya, and CPBR. Although they did share some similarities there were some distinctions in terms of their composition, stated purpose and how they operated, so the duplication was not as overt as it first appeared. Both in Colombo and at the district level, however, it was clear that there were multiple initiatives with little collaboration and sharing between them, and sometimes even competition. This was a systemic problem seen not just within the NGO sector but also with environmental groups and business chambers. The life span of externally created or supported initiatives, particularly at the community level, differed significantly. Some of the more recent initiatives which were highlighted by actors interviewed for this research had already stopped meeting and being active, even though it had been barely two years since sustained funding for these projects slowed dried up. Initiatives implemented by a national level organization or donor-created at the district or even community-level committees seemed to have a limited shelf life. It needs to be noted that this high mortality rate was not unique to initiatives involving religious actors alone, but in other projects which attempted to establish peace committees, dialogue forums, and other collectives. Sustainability of such initiatives was clearly a critical challenge. It must be noted that the individuals involved in such initiatives may have continued to remain active in newer forums or in informal networks. 280 S. HAYWARD AND M. RAHEEM

Short-term funded projects may have been useful in the long term as they sustained local level dynamism which was maintained although the individual mechanisms may have died or transformed. There were other collectives involving religious actors who have continued to meet for more than two decades, albeit under different names over the years. Some of these collectives had participated in larger country-wide networks and continued to function although the network may have ceased to be active. The projects with longer life spans were found in committees where there was active ownership and interest by those involved, as opposed to forums that were driven by donor agendas and external actors select members.

CONCLUSION:BEYOND HORIZONTAL PEACEBUILDING IN SRI LANKA Peacebuilding and development programs seeking to foster social cohesion in Sri Lanka as observed in 2013 had mixed results, with the larger objectives of programs not often translating into reality. In some circumstances they had even had unintended negative consequences that bolstered power imbalances between ethnic groups. But these programs and projects were not ineffectual. Indeed, we found many positive anecdotes about interpersonal and inter-communal relationships forged through these initiatives that led to changes in attitudes across lines of difference and created vehicles for addressing disputes and de-escalating tensions when they arose. These initiatives have been particularly successful in forging horizontal relationships that foster social cohesion at the local level. When religious leaders were engaged in these initiatives, they were able to translate the lessons they learned and their experiences into their preaching and engagement within their own communities, even intervening with more extremist elements in their community who were fostering discord. Local community members cited the positive impact it had on them when they saw religious leaders working together across lines of difference to foster coexistence and to address community needs. Minority religious leaders offered appreciation for those times when Buddhist monks advocated on their behalf with local authorities. Undoubtedly these initiatives, however, have been hamstrung by the inherent difficulties of peacebuilding in politicized environments, the weaknesses of NGOs and coordinating mechanisms between them, and the negative impact of donor pressures, expectations, changing priorities, and SRI LANKA: SOCIAL COHESION ...IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER 281 the nature of short-term funding cycles. The politicized environment in Sri Lanka in particular made it difficult for these projects to impact transformations along the vertical axis of social cohesion – reform of state structures and policies to ensure that all communities were being treated equitably. Not surprisingly, the markers of programs that had greater success in achieving their objectives were initiated and owned by local communities (even if later supported by external actors and donors), those that were sustained over long periods of time, and those that took measures to ensure the power dynamics within the wider society were not replicated in the project. Moreover, participants gave more buy-in to projects that were linked to tangible activities benefiting the community, rather than mere forums for dialogue. Those projects that were seen to benefit individual members financially – through the offering of per diems to participants, for example – were criticized by many as rarely eliciting long-term or genuine commitment. Religious leaders involved in projects that brought personal financial benefit were particularly vulnerable to criticism from community members and other clergy. Given the nature of pessi- mism about NGO-led work in Sri Lanka, religious leaders involved in projects that were not sponsored by NGOs (or at least that appeared independent) were less vulnerable to criticism that could negatively impact their legitimacy to be agents affecting social cohesion.

NOTES 1. At the time of publishing this article, 2017, the political situation in Sri Lanka had changed significantly. The January 2015 election removed President Mahinda Rajapaksa from power, putting in place one of his former ministers Maithripala Sirisena who, in alliance with the main political opposition party, promised significant reforms to strengthen good governance, the rule of law and advance reconciliation. There have been significant improvements. Transitional justice has become part of public policy and the government has presented a series of measures for achieving reconciliation, laid out in the a September 2015 resolution at the UN Human Rights Council, which the Government co-sponsored. There is increased space for civil society dissent and legislation to establish an Office on Missing Persons and Right to Information. However, progress has been slow and there are concerns as to whether the Government has the political will and strength to push ahead with promised constitutional and legal reforms, as well as the structures required to ensure effective implementation and confidence building measures necessary to build a lasting peace. 282 S. HAYWARD AND M. RAHEEM

2. The research for this project was conducted from approximately October 2012 to 2013. It comprised literature review of scholarly material, policy papers, and relevant project descriptions and evaluations provided by Sri Lankan and international organizations. Field research was conducted in May 2013 by Raheem and Hayward in Colombo, Trincomalee, and Batticaloa in Sri Lanka, constituting interviews with international workers based in Sri Lanka and employed by foreign governments, development agencies, and international organizations, religious leaders involved in national and local peace efforts, participants in peace projects throughout the island, and staff of relevant Sri Lankan government ministries and national organizations. 3. Population data used here are preliminary figures from 2011 population and housing census, as provided by the Government of Sri Lanka. This was the first island-wide census taken in 30 years. Accessed at http://www.statistics. gov.lk/ on October 13, 2013. 4. The last king of the island was Rajasinha II, was from Malabar, South India and the language of the court of the kingdom in Kandy was Tamil. 5. Richard Rotberg, Creating Peace in Sri Lanka (Washington, DC: Brookings Institution Press, 1999), 5. Tamil elites working in the administration made a significantly higher income than those outside the system, much to the disdain and resentment of the majority Sinhala. 6. David Little, “Religion and Ethnicity in the Sri Lankan Civil War,” in Creating Peace in Sri Lanka,37–47. 7. Sunil Bastian, The Political Economy of Post-War Sri Lanka (Sri Lanka: International Centre for Ethnic Studies, May 2013), 12. 8. Muttukrishna Sarvananthan, “Economy of the Conflict Region in Sri Lanka: From Embargo to Repression,” Policy Studies #44 (Washington, DC: East West Center, 2007). 9. Attacks on Places of Worship in Post-War Sri Lanka (Colombo: Centre for Policy Alternatives, March 2013). 10. According to data provided by the Inter-Parliamentary Union by September 1, 2015. Accessed online at http://www.ipu.org/wmn-e/classif.htmon September 5, 2015. 11. “Report of the Secretary-General’s Panel of Experts on Accountability in Sri Lanka” (United Nations: March 31, 2011). 12. “Sri Lankan Jumbo Cabinet Expanded,” The Hindu, January 28, 2013, at http://www.thehindu.com/news/international/sri-lankan-jumbo-cabi net-expanded/article4353822.ece. 13. See “Spoiler and Reconciler: Buddhism and the Peace Process in Sri Lanka,” in Between Terror and Tolerance. 14. Kalinga Tudor Silva, P.P. Sivapragasam, and Paramosothy Thanges, “Caste Discrimination and Social Justice in Sri Lanka: An Overview,” Indian SRI LANKA: SOCIAL COHESION ...IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER 283

Institute of Dalit Studies Working Paper Series 3, no. 6 (2009), 2. See also, Caste Based Discrimination in Nepal: A local Perspective from Dadeldhura District,accessibleathttp://reliefweb.int/sites/reliefweb.int/files/ resources/2013-08-16-field-bulletin-59.pdf. 15. Statistics provided by the Central Bank of Sri Lanka. Accessed online: http://www.cbsl.gov.lk/pics_n_docs/10_pub/_docs/statistics/other/ econ_&_ss_2011_e.pdf. 16. Statistics provided by the Sri Lankan Government. Accessed online at http://www.statistics.gov.lk/poverty/povertyindicators2009_10.pdf. 17. King Duttugemunu was a historical figure who defeated the Chola King Elara and united the various kingdoms in the island, as accounted in the Sinhala Buddhist chronicle the Mahavamsa. President Mahinda Rajapaksa is often presented as a modern day King Duttugemenu (“Mahinda Rajapaksa: Where to From Here?” The Sunday Times, November 18, 2012). See also Nirmal Ranjith Dewasiri, “‘History’ After the War: Historical Consciousness in the Collective Sinhala Buddhist Psyche in Post-War Sri Lanka” (International Center for Ethnic Studies. Research Paper No: 9. Colombo: July 2013). 18. In his independence day speech on February 4, 2010, Former President Mahinda Rajapaksa remarked that “The people of the North and East suffered for thirty years without their democratic rights. I was able to grant them democracy” (Address at 62nd Independence celebrations, February 4, 2010). 19. At the time of our research, the cabinet numbered 67 ministers, in addition to several non-cabinet deputy ministers. Government of Sri Lanka website. Accessed online at: http://www.priu.gov.lk/Govt_Ministers/ Indexministers.html. 20. http://un.lk/news/opening-remarks-by-un-high-commissioner-for- human-rights-navi-pillay/. 21. “Attacks on Places of Religious Worship in Post-War Sri Lanka,” Centre for Policy Alternatives. 22. The Government set up a mechanism to devise a consensus on a political solution through the All Party Representative Conference (APRC) in July 2006. After 128 sittings held over three years, the APRC Chairperson handed a final report to the President in January 2008 but it was not made public let alone utilized for discussions to frame the Government’s own position. Amita Arudpragsam, “The APRC: A Forgotten Resolution” (Colombo: Groundviews, March 8, 2013). The Rajapaksa Government and the TNA engaged in several rounds of bilateral talks following the end of the war but there was little progress both in terms of how to move forward on devising a consensus on a political solution and on other issues affecting Tamils in the North and East (M.A. Sumanthiran. “True State of Affairs 284 S. HAYWARD AND M. RAHEEM

Regarding Govt-TNA talks and the Parliamentary Select Committee Invitation.” September 2, 2012. Accessed online at dbsjeyaraj.com.). 23. The first Eastern Provincial Council (EPC) elections were won by the governing alliance, UPFA in 2008, nonetheless, the Government has proved resistant to empowering the Chief Minister and the EPC and through a variety of measures including delaying and blocking statutes, the non-provision of timely finances and allowing the Governor (a Central Government appointed officer) to act in a decision-making as opposed to a consultative role has resulted in the effective disempowerment of the EPC (Centre for Policy Alternatives, “Devolution in the Eastern Province: Implementation of the 13th Amendment and Public Perceptions 2008–2010,” August 2010). 24. “Reconciliation in Sri Lanka: Harder than Ever,” International Crisis Group, July 18, 2011. 25. The archives of the LLRC can be accessed online at http://www.llrcarchive. org/. The citizen journalism website Groundviews also hosts an archive of material at http://groundviews.org/llrc-media-coverage-and-submis sions/. 26. “Release of the Lessons Learnt Reconciliation Commission (LLRC) Report” (Colombo: Centre for Policy Alternatives, January 3, 2012). 27. Friday Forum, “National Plan of Action: Need to Implement the LLRC,” December 30, 2012; April 2012; For instance, on the issue of the missing, the Government has made a number of announcements of new measures to address this issue, including yet another commission to examine disappearances, but the Government has proved ineffectual in terms of providing a definite list of all detainees in government custody and detention centers or in implementing follow-up actions proposed by successive commissions. Ruki, “Sri Lanka’s Disappeared, Navi Pillay and another Commission of Inquiry,” Groundviews, August 30, 2013. 28. Watchdog “A disappearance every five days in post-war Sri Lanka,” Groundviews, August 30, 2012. 29. Human Rights Watch, “We Will Teach You a Lesson,” February 26, 2013; International Crisis Group, “Sri Lanka: Women’s Insecurity in the North and East,” December 20, 2011. 30. Interview with the authors, Colombo, May 2013. 31. Ministry of National Languages and Social Integration website: http:// lanintegmin.gov.lk/. 32. Social Integration Policy Document. 33. Interview with the authors, Colombo, July 2013. 34. Ibid. SRI LANKA: SOCIAL COHESION ...IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER 285

35. In the UNDEF the UN used the term social inclusion as part of four pillars. Within the proposal it is not deﬁned so can ﬁnd any marginalized group. USAID uses Social Integration. 36. Interview with the authors. Colombo. May 2013. 37. Ibid. 38. Ibid. 39. Ibid. 40. “Reconciliation in Sri Lanka: Harder than Ever.” International Crisis Group, July 18 2011. 41. Interview with the authors. Colombo. May 2013. 42. Interview with Norwegian advisor to Eric Solheim on the peace process in Sri Lanka. Oslo. April 2012. This was corroborated by Eric Solheim himself in a meeting with author Hayward in Oslo during the same visit. 43. Interview with the authors, Colombo, May 2013. 44. “Attacks on Places of Religious Worship,” CPA. 45. “Informal Dispute Resolution in the North-East and Puttalam,” Centre for Policy Alternatives (Colombo, Sri Lanka, 2003), 54. 46. Interview with the authors, Colombo, May 2013. 47. Fara Haniffa and Mirak Raheem, “Post-Tsunami Reconstruction and the Eastern Muslim Question,” Lines Magazine, May 2005. 48. Interview with the authors, Trincomalee, May 2013. 49. Ibid. 50. Interview with the authors, Batticaloa, May 2013. 51. Informal Dispute Resolution in the North-East and Puttalam, CPA, 35.

Susan Hayward is Director of Religion and Inclusive Societies at the US Institute of Peace, where she supports the Institute’s overall efforts to engage the religious sector in peacebuilding. She has led ﬁeld projects in Sri Lanka, Myanmar, Iraq, and Colombia. Susan’s research interests include interfaith engagement in the midst of political violence, political Buddhism, and the role of religion in hampering and propelling women’s work for peace and justice.

Mirak Raheem is an independent researcher and activist based in Colombo, Sri Lanka. He is currently serving as a member of the Consultation Task Force on Reconciliation Mechanisms appointed by the Government of Sri Lanka. CHAPTER 10

Peacebuilding for Social Cohesion: Findings and Implications

Fletcher D. Cox, Catherine Orsborn and Timothy D. Sisk

The country-level analyses in this volume conﬁrm that on a conceptual level, social cohesion is useful and indeed critical approach for understanding the dynamics of deeply divided societies and, operationally, a valuable approach for preventing violence and reducing the probability of conﬂict recurrence. Inter- group fears that form during experience of social violence, however, are very long-lasting. When the root causes of identity-based fear are not addressed, or even if groups perceive the state is not working to systematically address political, social, or economic fears, social cohesion remains elusive. Pervasive fear that exists in societies lacking human security, and the absence of strong

F.D. Cox (*) Department of Political Science, William Jewell College, Liberty, MO, USA Sié Chéou Kang Center for International Security and Diplomacy, Korbel School of International Studies, University of Denver, Denver, CO, USA e-mail: [email protected] C. Orsborn University of Denver/Iliff School of Theology, Denver, CO, USA e-mail: [email protected] T.D. Sisk Josef Korbel School of International Studies, University of Denver, Denver, Colorado, USA e-mail: [email protected]

© The Author(s) 2017 287 F.D. Cox, T.D. Sisk (eds.), Peacebuilding in Deeply Divided Societies, Rethinking Political Violence, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-50715-6_10 288 F.D. COX ET AL. incentives for elites to share power in an inclusvie manner stand out as key restaints on the ability of both international and domestic actors to advance social cohesion. New and rapidly shifting patterns of social organization, and particularly of religious identity and expression, combine with horizontal inequalities to create situations of deep social frustration, conflict, and fear. Within conflict-affected countries, as the foregoing chapters attest, the relationship between social cohesion and the propensity for violence is recursive. The absence of social cohesion is a condition for potential conflict and violence. At the same time, conflict and violence impact the dynamics of social cohesion and fragmentation. Conflict impacts social relationships and the relationship between state and society in multiple ways. Therefore, careful analysis of social cohesion in a particular context, and the identification of opportunities for positively contributing to its (re)emergence requires, first, in depth of understanding of the impact of prior conflict on social patterns, and, second, careful analysis of the key factors and trends within international interventions that have a high likelihood of continuing to further divide the polity, rather than unite it. This chapter presents the summary findings from a comparative assessment of the chapters in this volume, teasing out the contingent general- izations that in turn helps inform further theory development on the dynamics of deeply divided societies and the role of external development assistance in peacebuilding. The conclusion, then, presents implications of the findings for policy and practice.

THE EFFECTS OF CONFLICT AND VIOLENCE ON SOCIAL COHESION Conflict reorganizes social relationships. Forms of religious and ethnic identification change over time. Identity is not static, and conflict is a very powerful factor that can rapidly create shifts in identity. For example, Alesina et al. in their seminal study of ethnic fractionalization note that citizens in Somalia self-identified with different ethnic groups before and after the emergence of civil conflict (Alesina et al. 2003). Conflict disrupts both political and social relationships, which is clearly reflected in all of these country analyses. The experience of conflict or civil war has a marked impact on group identity and thus on social cohesion. Conflict deeply impacts relationships both within and between groups, such that inter- PEACEBUILDING FOR SOCIAL COHESION: FINDINGS AND IMPLICATIONS 289 group exclusion often becomes necessary for survival under conditions of state fragility. Critically, however, in some contexts, the shared experience of violence unifies groups. The shared experience of war or state repression has been found to be one of the most powerful factors contributing to identity formation and reformation. For example, in Guatemala, during the civil war, it was dangerous to be perceived as indigenous, but after its end there has been a dynamic of “mayanization.” A Pan-Maya identity grew out of a collective experience of violence and victimization. In other contexts, conflict deepens social fragmentation or causes shifts in prior social cleavages. For example, in Sri Lanka, the war contributed to a further radicalization of the polities, an increased sense of isolation of the Tamil community from the State, and a polarization between communities. In some areas, such as the multi-ethnic East of the country, decades of fear and violence from multiple formal and informal bands of armed actors resulted in the deterioration and weakening of ties between communities, including those economic, associational, and personal. Yet, even while the war had a significant impact on both the horizontal and vertical axes of social cohesion, it is important to note that the state and, to lesser extent, social ties between communities did not completely break down. Hence, Sri Lanka illustrates a series of complex relationships and effects of the war, including ghettoized communities in parts of the country and heterogeneous societies in others. Conflict generates collective fear and suspicion within societies that greatly impact post-conflict peacebuilding efforts. For example, even after the immediate conflict is over, and groups have returned to their home areas, persistent mistrust, suspicion, and inter-group tension can undermine efforts to rebuild local institutions, which is necessary to secure lasting peace. Donors often work to reconstruct destroyed infrastructure and formal government institutions without realizing that the reconstruction of deeply broken social relationships is equally important for the stability of peace and the effectiveness of development efforts. Armed conflict also undermines economic outcomes and destroys livelihoods, creating or exacerbating poverty and patterns of social inequality. Conflict also has a deep impact on gender relationships. There is a strong link between social violence and gender-based violence through the link- age between conflict and masculinity, and the rise in female-dominated households following social violence and civil war. 290 F.D. COX ET AL.

Patterns of social cohesion and the strategies that groups use to coexist peacefully vary from case to case, especially where there are high levels of human insecurity. In many cases, groups (even without assistance from the state or international actors) renegotiate unique ways of resolving grievances and living together, even with former enemies, in relative peace. However, very high or eroding conditions of human insecurity make it increasingly difficult for groups to negotiate new foundations for cohesion and peace, especially where group survival is highly dependent on a particular form of livelihood that is specific to one group. The protection of economic resources largely controlled by a particular identity group, under conditions of declining human security, is often a motivating trigger for inter-group conflicts and clashes. In sum, while social cohesion varies, it is generally more attainable with higher levels of human security. In countries in which conflict has led to “sectarianization,” we find the social cohesion concept to be particularly helpful for assessment of conflict relationships. In the cases under analysis, there are three main social cleavages that tend to overlap and reinforce one another in conflict-affected countries: ethno-religious divisions, geographic divisions (rural urban/or core-periphery), and class divisions (income inequality). There is evidence across the cases that cohesion among diverse identity groups is attainable with donor support at the local level. However, national-level cohesion, especially within the political sphere, seems very difficult for external actors to affect, as the Kenya, Guatemala, and Sri Lanka cases attest. The restoration of social trust in state and political institutions, in the wake of armed conflict, is a very long-term process that contributions to governance institutions cannot easily remediate. In particular, in post-conflict environments, trust in local religious institutions tends to remain much higher than trust in state institutions, which undermines vertical social cohesion. Lebanon, Kenya, Nigeria, and Guatemala demonstrate this pattern. The globalization of religion also affects domestic social cohesion. With globalization and the spread of information, traditional religious institutions and leaders may lose control over religious authority in many contexts. While traditional religious leaders are still respected in certain contexts, there has been a flattening of religious authority with the advent of the Internet and the expansion of the religious marketplace. This does not mean that religious authorities, however, have lost power. For example, in the case of Nigeria, religion has become a binary social cleavage, and is now more polarizing and conflict-inducing than ethnicity. In this context, new religious groups have recently emerged that are PEACEBUILDING FOR SOCIAL COHESION: FINDINGS AND IMPLICATIONS 291 competing for loyalty in the middle (less homogenous) regions of the state, and thus high levels of inter-religious competition in areas that are deeply divided (along ethnic lines) creates conditions for inter-group violence. Most importantly, globalized religious narratives (Christianity and Islam, in particular) make domestic negotiations between religious and ethnic groups more difficult. In the cases of Sri Lanka and Myanmar, for example, the global narratives of radical Islam and “jihad” impact local conditions for inter-group coordination. Local religious groups can easily make appeals, through transnational religious networks, to a broader, often global, religious community. Donors and peacebuilders struggle to deal with this trend. Sectarianism also challenges patterns of social cohesion. Sectarianism as a particular form of “bonding” social capital can create hostility along larger social/political cleavages. When religions splinter into smaller sects, it challenges more established social hierarchies that often serve as the basis for political mobilization or the projection of political power. New forms of religious identity (more global and more individualistic) impact older inter- and intra-group relationships in many of the cases, especially Lebanon, Nigeria, and Myanmar. For example, religious movements, including Pentecostalism, Evangelicalism, and Islamism, have played very important roles in many of the conflict- affected countries under consideration. These religious trends, all of which tend to be thought of as highly individualistic, could also be viewed as establishing new frameworks for social cohesion, where states have failed to generate unity. While sectarianism is creating new forms of strife, the breakdown of older, religious hierarchies that underpin binary social cleavages could potentially help lead to the formation of bridging social cohesion. The chapters in this volume demonstrate that Pentecostals and Evangelical (particularly in Guatemala and Nigeria, respectively), and Islamists in Lebanon, Kenya, and Nigeria, are challenging old forms of social cohesion and creating new, uncertain situations. The democratization and individualization of religious authority and identity has reduced the power of the old guards, while simultaneously creating new forms of social strife, including creating family and tribal divisions and spurring rogue acts of violence. This reflects a breakdown of old forms of bonding social capital, and it remains to be seen if bridging social capital will be achievable considering these new patterns of religious affiliation and engagement. 292 F.D. COX ET AL.

NARRATIVES AND THE CONSTRUCTING OF “NATION” Social cohesion can result from the emergence of a shared vision for a plural society. “Nation-building” efforts, however, have proven very complex in comparative perspective. The key challenge for nation building is the articulation of a vision and a set of shareable values for a plural society. For example, Kenya, has tried to promote pamoja (unity in diversity) as the basis for national unity. The National Cohesion and Integration Commission (NCIC), in Kenya, is also a new institution tasked with constructing a national identity. Different states use various symbols, strategies, and institutional designs to try to construct the nation. While the construction of a collective, national identity, can serve as the foundation for social cohesion, it is important to note that nationalist, “imagined communities,” have proven destructive in the international sphere (Cruz 2000;Anderson1983). Efforts to construct a set of ideals and values to unify groups form various ethnic identities are common in divided societies, but have had varying levels of success across the cases. Deﬁning “the nation” is a contentious process, fraught with conﬂict and the emergence of new forms of marginalization against groups that do not fall with the articulated vision. Most importantly, efforts to develop a shared pluralistic vision for the country often do not stick, due to the fact that the political economy continues to allocate resources based on ethnic or religious identity. In other words, deep divisions that become entrenched through political and economic processes regularly undermine nation-building policies and institutions. Political rhetoric aimed toward national unity regularly clashes with economic realities that divide.

PUBLIC POLICY:LANGUAGE,LAND, AND SERVICES Historically, the emergence of common language has functioned as a foundation for social cohesion in many countries, including Kenya, Tanzania, and across Europe (Miguel 2004). Across all of the cases under assessment, linguistic homogenization is a highly contentious topic. Language and identity are deeply intertwined. In conflict-affected countries, the politics of language can be especially contentious, especially around education policy. Therefore, even though changes in language policy may be a potential channel for fostering social cohesion; politically, this is a very difficult arena for developing consensus. The homogenization of language intensifies fear of assimilation and the sense of relative deprivation among minority groups, which can trigger conflict. PEACEBUILDING FOR SOCIAL COHESION: FINDINGS AND IMPLICATIONS 293

Similarly, across all of the cases under consideration, issues of land rights and indigeneity have become highly volatile, especially in the Guatemala, Kenya, Nepal, and Sri Lanka cases. Thus, there is a “land- identity nexus” that must be taken into account in relationship to social cohesion. The unequal distribution of land along identity lines is a major factor that prevents the emergence of cohesive societies. This is common grievance among marginalized groups who mobilize violently against other groups. Direct state-led efforts aimed toward constructing trust through new narratives of “cohesion” and “integration,” directly, have little measurable impact. This is largely due to the way in which unequal allocation of state resources along identity lines, or unequal service delivery, plays a major role in deepening divisions. Social cohesion is more likely to form over time where strong state institutions cause groups to experience interactions with other groups that are shaped by a deep sense of equality.1 Ensuring equal and universal access to public services plays a strong role in generating cohesion. In general, the relationship between social services systems and con- ﬂict vulnerability has been underemphasized, particularly in the most recent World Development Report (2015). However, the ways in which state services are delivered play a critical role in uniting or fragmenting a society. The Netherlands, historically, is a key example of cohesion achieved through a particular type of social system. Political bargaining at the top led to social cohesion at the bottom (horizontal level). Social cohesion among very diverse groups emerged because there was a deal struck that each “pillar” would receive the same social services from the government, which has led to long-term stability of a diverse, divided society.

POLITICAL PARTICIPATION:MYTHS AND REALITIES OF “INCLUSIVITY” Social cohesion strengthens when political systems are fully inclusive of all major groups. At the same time, there are often practical and normative barriers to full inclusion, in part as a consequence of radicalization and extremism within groups that claim representation of group interests as a result of being “true believers.” There is a striking lack of vertical cohesion throughout many of the cases. Democratizing states work to promote inclusivity at that national level, but minority groups or the most highly 294 F.D. COX ET AL. disenfranchised display a vast distrust in their governments’ commitment to their best interests. The experience of inter-group conflict and violence deeply erodes social trust in the state, and this relationship between state and society is particularly difficult to rebuild. In multiple cases, local actors remain skeptical of national-level policy dialogues or projects related to social cohesion. For many local communities, these debates are merely symbolic conversations among elites trying to appease international donors, rather than sincere efforts to include the most marginalized groups within process of governance. This raises key questions for the development of “social cohesion agendas” in divided societies: How effective can international actors be when (1) governments (even if formally democratic) are not committed to inclusivism/pluralism; and (2) when conflicting social groups in question do not trust the government’s commitment to their interests? In other words, what exactly is the correlation between vertical and horizontal cohesion? Political party mobilization strategies can have a deep impact in terms of creating new and deep social fissures. Three cases are particularly telling. In Myanmar, democratization created conditions for ethnic mobilization and violence. This would not have been permitted under the military dictatorship where any semblance of potentially destabilizing activity was quickly discouraged. Buddhist extremists have taken to targeting Muslims and radical anti-Muslim agendas have proliferated in online forums. As a result communal distrust is high, with anxieties among minorities, especially Muslims, continuing to rise. Similarly, in the case of Nepal, democratization and poor governance have created a window for identity-based mobilization and contentious protests. The dissolution of the old monarchy exposed extreme diversity in the county, and made identity highly contested. Identity politics is on the rise in Nepal, with different and often clashing demands for territorial autonomy, based on identity attributes ranging from regional and linguistic (Madheshi and ethnic groups), religious (Muslim, ethnic groups), and caste (Dalit). Like in many other contexts of incipient democratization, the Nepali transition has been turbulent. The country has been beset by unstable rule through shifting governing coalitions, localized political violence, and, most poignantly, strong identity-based political mobilization. Efforts to foster inclusive governance at the national level creates conditions conducive to rising demands for inclusion at the local level. PEACEBUILDING FOR SOCIAL COHESION: FINDINGS AND IMPLICATIONS 295

TALKING ABOUT SOCIAL COHESION (WITHOUT TALKING ABOUT SOCIAL COHESION) Across the cases, many country-based development practitioners refered to social cohesion as a sub-category of the larger rights-based approach to peacebuilding and humanitarian intervention. The rights-based approach is a mechanism for fostering equality and cohesion among groups within post-conﬂict intervention processes, and functions as a shared reference for donors and aid actors working to address issues of marginalization, social fragmentation, and state repression of minority groups. This approach views social cohesion as a process of norm building and transmission, and eventually institutional and behavioral change. Norm transmission requires contextualized concepts for particular cultural environments. Despite contextual variation around how the term social cohesion is used in peacebuilding efforts across all seven cases, there is evidence of a high level of diffusion of social cohesion as a donor policy framework. A large network of donors, Non-governmental Organizations (NGOs), and Civil Society Organizations (CSOs) (both within and outside of the UN system) working within post-conﬂict environments employ the concept as a framework for peacebuilding and statebuilding programming. The concept itself, however, remains politically contentious. It is debated vigor- ously across diverse domestic political environments. Variation in applications of the concept is caused by variation in the way actors attempt to change dominant narratives around exclusion, marginalization, and social fragmentation. The concept is especially contentious where identity serves as the primary foundation for political organization and mobilization, or for state control, such as Sri Lanka and Lebanon. Evidence from some cases suggests social cohesion is a very useful and even strategic concept for helping donors navigate contentious political enivonments in deeply divided societies. Donors effectively use “social cohesion” in Sri Lanka as a cover to carry out activities that if labeled as “human rights” or “reconciliation” would be unlikely to secure government approval. In some cases, the shift toward social cohesion programming is pragmatic. It allows donors to get buy-in from the government and avoid losing the ability to carry out peacebuilding programs and projects that may be rejected due to opposition toward or misunderstanding of the policy concepts being used. From this perspective, the social cohesion approach is advantageous for both donors and governments. 296 F.D. COX ET AL.

Social cohesion and social integration are less politically contentious terms than “peacebuilding” and “human rights,” both of which continue to be controversial in post-conflict environments. Peacebuilding and human rights, at some level, connote continuing disharmony, upheaval, and crisis, whereas social cohesion and social integration are perceived to be “newer” terms, broad enough to capture a variety of issues that are by no means distinct to particular conflict contexts, such as marginalization of various groups. From this perspective, as was suggested by one of the interviewees in the Sri Lanka study, “social cohesion has default legitimacy.”2 While the social cohesion concept has diffused broadly across a number of conflict-affected countries, its meaning must be negotiated within particular contexts. In many ways, the potential power of social cohesion as a peacebuilding approach is linked to its ability to be internally debated and negotiated. Processes of norm change around minority inclusion in governance are highly political and conflict ridden, especially in countries where patronage, clientelism, and elite corruption are rife. In all seven cases, the concept has drawn attention to the need for support for most marginalized and underdeveloped communities as a form of pre-emptive peacebuilding (rather than reactionary humanitarianism and conflict recovery, which is far more costly). While evidence that donors have directly impacted social cohesion in many of these contexts is limited, it remains clear that introduction of the concept, alone, has at times created space for domestic debates around deep social drivers of identity-based violence (e.g. historical marginalization and ethnic power imbalances) – a key first step in the path toward reconciliation and more durable peace in post-conflict contexts.

THE EMPOWERMENT DILEMMA Equitable influence and representation in the state are expected and sometimes demanded in post-conflict environments, but this condition is rarely accomplished at the hands of external actors. Engaging marginalized groups in social cohesion programming, under conditions of ineffective governance, can empower new identity-based groups and generate demands for participation and inclusion. In some cases, donor support social cohesion programming has functioned to empower and mobilize minority groups, generating more contentious politics, less consensus, and less effective governance. International organizations face complex challenges in ensuring interventions achieve their intended peace and development outcomes due to the PEACEBUILDING FOR SOCIAL COHESION: FINDINGS AND IMPLICATIONS 297 empowerment dilemma. In other words, the social cohesion framework and the spread of the norm of inclusion have caused minority groups to organize protests and strikes to demand access to and protection of their right to participate in governance. In some cases, it has generated new social grievances and hostility toward ethnic groups who dominate the political system. Mobilization of identity-based political groups has led to gridlock in government, inefficiencies in governance or, at worst, new forms of state- led marginalization to try to silence actors who have not traditionally had access to political power. While the international community has been successful in the promotion of the norm of inclusion of marginalized identity groups at multiple levels of governance, often through debates around social cohesion, this norm is not necessarily promoting the emergence of more cohesive and stable societies in all situations. One of the main effects of the expansion of institutions and norms for social cohesion in the absence of more integrated governance practices is that post-conflict reforms have unintentionally contributed to rising levels of political disaffection, social frustration, identity-based political mobilization, and persistent identity-based fragmentation. In the worst cases, Sri Lanka and Guatemala, for example, mobilization of identity groups has been met with new tactics of state repression, including symbolic political violence – a low cost form of violence directed toward controlling and limiting mobilization among minority groups. In Guatemala, social cohesion approaches within donor programs raised expectations for state performance at the local level. International cooperation (bilateral as well as multilateral and NGO) empowered local groups with resources and bureaucratic structures to claim their new rights to inclusive and effective governance. At the same time, donors had very little influence on dominant elite groups, such that and the state did not respond to claims for inclusion. In fact, the government dismantled or downsized many of the institutions established for the implementation of peace accords. The pursuit of social cohesion in Guatemala has created a context in which local identity groups now organize to claim new rights for participation and inclusion. The state, however, continues to repress these movements, sometimes violently through selective targeting of movement leaders. In the wake of peacebuilding efforts that involve programs to improve social cohesion, there is often corresponding horizontal polarization and hardening of ethnic/identity divisions in response to state-directed repression of groups working for minority and excluded groups’ interests. 298 F.D. COX ET AL.

In contrast, in other cases, the link between donor-funded efforts, identity-based mobilization, and rising ethnic fragmentation is not as strong. In Kenya, for example, the process of building cohesion is geared toward overcoming deeply entrenched ethnic-based political mobilization, and it is used to try to identify common interests, to develop cross-cutting forms of social interaction and political participation, and to develop a national sense of unity and a collective vision of the future. These efforts have not spawned the emergence of new political voices for minority identity groups. Group mobilization tends to play out through regularly shifting, elite-led party coalitions. Ground-up movements are less common. The nature of ethnic identity as the primary basis for elite-driven political coalitions in Kenya makes it very difﬁcult for leaders to truly rally and support the broader social cohesion agenda. Whether or not “unity in diversity” will be realized in Kenya, depends upon political elites, and the extent to which they truly decide to turn rhetoric about “national cohesion and integration” into reality through more policy-based or platform based political mobilization. Donors working to foster social cohesion in deeply divided countries need to pay careful attention to the empowerment dilemma. In the words of a UN respondent, “in many countries donors clearly identify issues of social exclusion a potential problem and help make it a national agenda, but generally have failed to adequately ameliorate issues of deep exclusion and inequality through their own programmatic efforts. This can increase ethnic demands for access to political power.”3 This dilemma aligns with Reilly’s insight. He argues that that international mediators and especially the UN tend to “prioritize descriptive representation and inclusion over other goals,” and that these choices can have deleterious outcomes on the long-term development of systems of capable governance through nationally focused, ethnically integrative political parties.4

ENGAGING RELIGIOUS LEADERS,INSTITUTIONS, AND ORGANIZATIONS While violence related to conflict over religious ideals and interests does occur, in this project we focused principally on “identity-based” or “ethno- religious” violence. Ethno-religious conflicts are not always about religious content or ideas per say. In this category, religion serves as a marker of PEACEBUILDING FOR SOCIAL COHESION: FINDINGS AND IMPLICATIONS 299 collective identity, a tool for mobilization, and a framework for understanding and interpreting conflict and necessary conditions for peace. The cases largely confirm that successful governance of diversity is necessary for peace and social stability. As Haynes argues, “governmental skill in achieving social solidarity which can transcend potential ethnic or religious schisms may be an important factor in explaining whether inter- or intra-group conflict occurs within a country or not” (Haynes 2007, 57). For this reason, how outsiders can foster social cohesion in deeply divided, conflict-affected or “fragile”5 states as a means to prevent violent conflict recurrence and to encourage inclusive, sustainable human development should remain as a central debate within contemporary development programming and policy-making. Religion, therefore, factors into the political, social, and economic life of these in these countries in complex ways. The religious dimension is certainly critical, but still one of many elements of identity- based conflict. Inter-religious group relationships are not inherently conflictual, but religion can provide ready fuel for political entrepreneurs. Elites play key roles when it comes to the question of religion and social cohesion. They can pivot societies toward injunctions of tolerance toward the other, or interpret doctrines to be conflictual and exclusive. More importantly, in conflict-affected countries, religious actors shape not just social attitudes and norms, but also legal norms and institutions. Religious actors often are deeply involved and invested in the debates and political processes that lead to the formation of new institutions at the level of the state. Thus, the question of how external organizations try to foster social cohesion, while engaging religious actors who often have different, competing visions for new state institutions, is critical. Religious identity is a critical factor in fragmentation, and thus religious communities play important roles in creating cohesion. However, a heavy focus on religious identity can serve to harden these boundaries. In some cases, such as Myanmar, Lebanon and Nigeria, religious identity is explicitly inscribed into political identity and access to the state. Communal leaders represent their groups at the national level, and thus religious identity is consistently reinforced at the state level. At present, Nigeria is fragmented into two exclusively defined religious identities, Islam and Christianity, rather than into the previously dominant ethnic identities. This has made the middle states vulnerable to aggressive conversion tactics. 300 F.D. COX ET AL.

While religion interacts with, and sometimes maps onto, other types of identity, such as ethnic identity, religions also bring a unique dimension to certain conflict situations. Religious ideas bring transcendent and global narratives to bear on otherwise localized conflict situations. Additionally, the authority and institutional structures embedded within religious communities provide strong in-group cohesion, which can be leveraged to build bridging social cohesion, but is often used to fight for in-group interests. Because the content of religious identity is malleable and shifting, political entrepreneurs, who have something to gain from exacerbating religious identity conflict, capitalize upon openings to draw upon religion to solidify group boundaries and to encourage religious support for violence. Membership in or identification with a particular religious label is also not static or as cleanly categorized as we often think, but elites reify these labels when it is politically expedienttodoso,andthisinturncreatesmoresolidified under- standings of hardened religious boundaries and zero-sum configura- tions of religious identity politics.

DIRECT APPROACHES:EVALUATING DIALOGUE PROGRAMS AND PROJECTS A broad number of donor organizations have supported and employed dialogue-based projects aimed at mending strained inter-group relationships and changing antagonistic perceptions and attitudes toward the “other.” Dialogical models have been employed across all seven cases. In general, dialogues between identity groups and between state-level and civil society-level actors have worked well to reach agreements on the cessation of direct hostilities, and to address very specific, hyper-local conflict issues. However, where dialogues have not been linked to real institutional changes that allow for more equitable power sharing among ethnic groups, or where they are not linked to tangible economic change and improvement in livelihoods, they have not been as effective in fostering a larger attitudinal sense of collective good will. Thus, dialogues are more or less effective at various points along a conflict trajectory. In cases where social grievances have not been addressed by the state, dialogues can do more harm than good. The state can use dialogical peacebuilding models as a way to pacify and demobilize opposition groups without pursuing PEACEBUILDING FOR SOCIAL COHESION: FINDINGS AND IMPLICATIONS 301 substantive institutional or social change. This dynamic occured in the cases of Guatemala, Sri Lanka, and Myanmar. Evidence from Nigeria also illustrates the challenges related to using dialogue as a tool for building social cohesion. Nigeria has been a testing ground for various models of peacebuilding and inter-religious and ethnic group dialogue. Over the past 10–15 years, there has been an explosion of universities in the country offering courses in peacemaking with cadres of young Nigerians entering into a vast array of NGOs and CSOs who use dialogical models of all types to address conflict dynamics within the country. It is also a unique case where donors that usually avoid engagement with religious institutions have expressed direct interest in religion and engaging faith-inspired actors in dialogue-based, social cohesion programming. Country-level directors of dialogue projects in Nigeria report that both national actors and local civil society organizations have become very accustomed to the “scripts” of donors and very skilled at navigating and appealing to the needs and interests of the larger international peacebuilding system. They claim social cohesion programs at the local level introduced high levels of competition among implementing partners and created “careerism” around foreign-funded social cohesion programming. Dialogues are questionable as an effective mechanism for fostering cohesion for the following reasons. Dialogue can become a very shallow form of engagement. Many processes focus on elites with very limited civil society participation or participation of the most highly marginalized actors, which can reinforce social cleavages. Also, dialogues are highly subject to the problem of duplication with poor donor and NGO coordination, and, in general, dialogue processes lack sustainable funding. While they might function to effectively create relationships and networks across social divisions, as the Sri Lanka case has shown, when tensions emerge and conflict recurs, these networks do not always prove powerful enough to constrain violent actors from mobilizing along identity lines. While donors have supported multiple, successful dialogue-based interventions in deeply divided societies, this approach to the construction of social cohesion faces key challenges. Instability of aid flows can undermine the successful implementation of dialogue programming. There are few resources available for “preemptive” peacebuilding, such as dialogue and reconciliation projects, relative to resources that become available for post- conflict aid. A majority of donor funds support projects that are reactive to extreme violence, as opposed to proactive for promoting long-term 302 F.D. COX ET AL. cohesion and stability. Attitudinal change among groups with deeply held, even “ancient” grievances is a long-term process, while dialogue funding is short term (Ross 2007). At the same time, under conditions of resource scarcity, there are very few efforts or interest in mobilizing local resources for supporting community peace initiatives. Overall, with both unstable international funding and low levels of “local buy in,” long-term inter- group dialogue projects are very difficult to sustain at the level of intensity and coverage necessary to truly foster social cohesion.

INDIRECT APPROACHES:INTERDEPENDENCIES FOR PEACE Social cohesion is dependent upon the formation of a system of public goods provision that provides resources transparently and equitably. The presence of competing systems of social protection, funded by various donors for various groups, can play a strong role in preventing the emergence of cohesion. In all of the cases, systems of social protection remain deeply fragmented. Some systems operate only at the local level and others at the regional or state level. Religious communities maintain some social protection systems while others are maintained by secular NGOs. Some systems involve state leaders and are incorporated into the state apparatus, while others circumvent the state and function in isolation. As Kurtenbach states, “In the best cases, over time, these systems become complementary, but in the worst cases, fragmentation among social protection systems leads to a situation in which some sections of the population have very strong access, whereas others have no access at all.”6 Multiple donor-funded programs are designed to foster inclusive participation in local governance for historically marginalized groups and to create new arenas for cross-cutting participation (to redress the aforementioned problem). In other words, indirect approaches to social cohesion are designed to generate interdependency in process of aid dispersion and local governance of donor programming that are usually occupied by elites from particular groups. External actors working in deeply divided societies, however, face great difficulties in reconfiguring patterns of public resource allocation as an indirect mechanism for fostering social cohesion. In the Lebanon case, for example, during the civil war, state associations for public goods provision were rendered inoperative. Identity-based associations stepped in, providing an array of social services to citizens (Kingston 2000, 2). By 2000, Lebanon made important strides in its reconstruction efforts and in PEACEBUILDING FOR SOCIAL COHESION: FINDINGS AND IMPLICATIONS 303 restoring basic service provision by the state, but reconstruction was marred with corruption, which “irremediably ravaged the political, administrative and economic institutions in the absence of the rule of law and of a civil society capable of facing a self-interested political elite” (El-Ezzi 2006, 16).7 In Nepal, the World Bank engaged in large-scale efforts to provide the state with data to better allocate resources and improve service delivery for the most marginalized groups, utilizing “Participatory Investigation Methods” (PIM) to develop a large-scale, country-level assessment of “Multidimensional Ethnic Exclusion” (MEI Index).8 The program constructed a very systematic database of economic and social marginalization through local level dialogues and highly collaborative data collection methods. The project was designed to serve as a guide for donors to work with the state to develop highly targeted livelihoods projects to redress entrenched horizontal inequalities and advance the Comprehensive Peace Accord (CPA). The project, however, experienced “elite capture.” Two key reports were finalized but remain unpublished (“Unequal Citizens in Nepal” 2006; “Toward Equal Citizens” 2011). Critically, however, World Bank social policy specialists report that the MEI study has been blocked from publication due to resistance from central government elites in Kathmandu. Similar to the Lebanon situation, movement toward more equitable resource allocation and service delivery remains block by the narrow interests of the dominant political groups. Despitelarge-scaleeffortstoimprovecapacityandinterdependencies across local systems of governance, respondents report that corruption and misuse of public funds remain critical roadblocks for improving state-society relations in all seven cases. In Nepal, Kenya, Guatemala, and Nigeria the distribution of public goods operates along patron-client networks, and politicians have a very large amount of control over resource allocation such that “rent-seekers” regularly gain access to state resources at the local level. Donors have a significant impact in reformulating governance institutions or “formal” rules and systems of governance. Where clientelism is a deeply embedded practice within the process of public goods, donors may have very little power to change this pattern of behavior. Patronage based on identity-based divisions, whether at the state or local level is a deeply embedded practice that continues despite the best efforts of donors. Building inclusive systems for public goods allocation is a lynchpin within larger efforts to restore social cohesion in conflict-affected societies. 304 F.D. COX ET AL.

LOCAL PEACE ARCHITECTURES,INSTITUTIONAL PARALLELISM, AND POLITICAL CAPTURE In contexts of conflict and fragility, formal state institutions tend to lack authority, legitimacy, and capacity, such that international actors frequently engage non-state, informal actors and local institutions in the pursuit of integrated peacebuilding and development goals. In the wake of civil conflict where state capacity to provide security is lacking, donors often construct institutions to “substitute” for a lack of governance capacity. Within processes of peacebuilding/statebuilding, for instance, donors have helped develop national and local peace architectures to redress immediate grievances against the state and between groups, while the state is being built. While circumventing the state can help to achieve immediate development gains, it can create dilemmas for peace consolidation and long-term state formation. Moreover, international organizations often lack cohesive strategies for engaging non-state actors for both security and development in ways that contribute to state resilience; increasingly, at the country level, the UN supports “architectures for peace”–derived in part from network perspectives in global governance – that focus on local-level variation and reinforcing positive feedback between community security and development approaches. Many peace practitioners tout peace architectures, especially local peace committees (LPCs), as highly successful institutions for generating horizontal social cohesion and lowering conflict vulnerability (Van Tongeren 2013; Odendaal 2013). Kenya, for example, has been labeled by some as a critical “success case” for effective LPCs. The first LPC in Wajir emerged in 1993 from the ground up and successfully fostered the development of local solutions to inter-group violence. The model was deemed so successful, in fact that the United Nations Development Program (UNDP) helped to establish “local infrastructures for peace” across all 47 districts in Kenya (van Tongeren 2011, 46). Indeed, in many locations throughout Kenya LPCs have been highly successful in serving as platforms for “collective efficacy” (Sampson and Wikstrom 2008). That is, LPCs have provided an institutional framework for the development of integrated social networks among conflict actors that lead to the emergence of local solutions to drivers of violence specific to that region. Notwithstanding the reported success of some LPCs, respondents involved in developing and managing LPCs across Kenya indicated that PEACEBUILDING FOR SOCIAL COHESION: FINDINGS AND IMPLICATIONS 305 many committees have underperformed due to “political capture” within the shift from “bottom up” local peace architectures to state-driven institutionalization of district peace committees. At the county level, government administrators desire to function as gate-keepers, or entry points for any financial support provided to peace committees. This behavior undermines the effectiveness and independence of LPCs, and decreases voluntarism necessary for institutional effectiveness where resources are limited. In many cases, politicians have exerted power over LPCs to take advantage of their legitimacy, mobilization capacity, and accesses to donor resources. Nepal has experienced similar problems of political capture and rent seeking within LPCs.

DILEMMAS OF NATIONAL OWNERSHIP:GOVERNMENT MINISTRIES OF PEACE AND RECONCILIATION Across all of the cases, the idea of social cohesion is surprisingly widespread. In some cases, it has become directly embedded within new domestic institutions. A common strategy among donors interested in fostering cohesion within the political sphere is to establish a national- level bureaucracy, or “national peace architecture” to manage peace and reconciliation efforts. In some cases, these ministries have faced challenges in terms of having access to enough resources to really to be able to pursue a transformative social agenda. Moreover, incentives within political systems rarely provide upward mobility for ministers who “make noise” for disenfranchised groups. In Nepal, for example, ministers of peace and reconciliationusuallyserveintherolevery quietly before trying to make moves to advance within the government hierarchy. An innovative intervention aimed toward addressing this problem is the UNDP program on “Collaborative Leadership and Development.”9 A primary justiﬁcation for this program is that the establishment of the Nepal Ministry of Peace has been problematic for implementation of the CPA. When it became a “ministry” rather than a “commission,” the institution became a tool for political appointment (patronage) rather than a hub for peace and reconciliation coordination. Ministers, aiming to move up in the governance system, became resistant to the pursuit of an “empowerment agenda,” fearing it would undermine the possibility of promotion. 306 F.D. COX ET AL.

The action of circumventing the state to build leadership and governance capacity points toward the deep difficulties that peacebuilders have, as external interveners, to work with governments in post-conflict contexts on issues of exclusion, marginalization, and identity- based fragmentation. It remains extremely difficult for external actors to have a large impact in establishing effective formal bureaucratic structures that function effectively to foster peace and reconciliation. Overall, managers of programs for building local and national peace architectures suggest that donor-funded peacebuilding bureaucracies, “collaborate with the state at a surface level but ultimately operate as parallel structures for governance.”10 In other words, to achieve necessary “burn rates” for program funding with short cycles, donors commonly circumvent the state apparatus while establishing peace architectures (both national and local), such that new institutions are more connected to the donor bureaucracy than the state bureaucracy. This makes substitutive peace architectures largely unstable and unsustainable in the long run. The goal of neutrality, therefore, can undermine the ultimate impact peace architectures, especially where groups are not truly able to voice grievances and move toward solutions to deep conflict drivers. In other contexts, new “peace architectures” receive very little financial support from the state and thus continue to depend upon donor funding and technical assistance. This suggests that commitment among state elites to truly redressing inter-group grievances and improving social cohesion often remains symbolic.

COORDINATION AND AID VOLATILITY In many cases, donors’ efforts to foster social cohesion are themselves deeply fragmented. Under short time frames and intensive pressure from states that fund donor organizations, programs are often highly unorganized and conducted ad hoc. There is also a high level of competition among approaches, models, and modalities for building cohesion. This issue is exacerbated due to limited funding for what are seen as “soft” or “pre-emptive” peacebuilding interventions. Alongside the dilemmas of engagement with informal actors and institutions are challenges for coordination of international responses. There is widespread critique regarding, “the myriad [of] international actors involved in these missions ...[often] duplicating efforts or even PEACEBUILDING FOR SOCIAL COHESION: FINDINGS AND IMPLICATIONS 307 working at cross-purposes, sometimes with limited knowledge of each other’s activities ...” (Paris 2009, 53). Obstacles exist across a wide array of various actors – from the largest multilateral organization to the smallest local group – that assume responsibility for assisting in post-war recovery and development. While a general lack of coordination is partially attributable to the plethora of international peace and development actors, it is also related to “underlying substantive-philosophical differences” (Paris 2009,59) that, in the past, have rendered actors unable to cooperate in peacebuilding and development initiatives despite their shared objectives and purposes. Some headway in addressing institutional differences has been made by drawing attention to the continued need for procedural coordination in order to achieve maximum efficacy in post-war responses. The UN, especially, continues to wrestle with coordination problems across organizational lines, as a 2015 review of the peace architecture revealed.11 The findings in this volume reveal that there are highly differing views of the UN and other international actors within national and local communities. In some cases, the work of the UN and other external actors have been appropriately designed and very-well exe- cuted, but the reputation of external actors among local communities wassopoorthatitaffectedcapacitytohaveapositiveimpact(e.g.Sri Lanka). In others, the UN enjoys a high level of local legitimacy. The UN is widely regarded as a neutral actor and thus often is able to initiate interreligious or inter-ethnic group engagement. This is not always the case, however. External “legitimacy” matters for effective engagement along with path dependency of successes and failures within prior engagements. In practice, social cohesion programming includes state governments as partners and beneficiaries, but then extends to the local level. Thus far, the extension of social cohesion programming beyond the state has faced financial and institutional limitations: local social cohesion initiatives are very costly and require highly nuanced understanding of particular conflict contexts and ethno-religious dynamics, which are very difficult to attain. Donors have a significant amount of power to shape global norms and promote the diffusion of ideas about key features of social cohesion. However, donors have very little direct means of wielding development assistance to change divisive domestic political behavior and fully ensure authentic inclusion in post-conflict governance systems. 308 F.D. COX ET AL.

NOTES 1. See also, Robert Foa, The Economic Rationale for Social Cohesion – The Cross-Country Evidence, Paper presented at the conference “Social Cohesion and Development” (OECD, Paris France, January 2011). 2. Interview with the authors, Sri Lanka, August 1, 2013. 3. Interview with the authors, December 6, 2012. 4. Benjamin Reilly, Remarks at the Workshop “Institutions for Sustainable Peace,” German Institute for Global and Area Studies, San Diego, March 31, 2012. 5. OECD, Concepts and Dilemmas of State Building in Fragile Situations. 6. Sabine Kurtenbach, “Promoting Social Cohesion and the Relationship Between the State and Society as an Aspect of State-Building in Fragile States,” in Study no. 4 for the GTZ Sector Advisory Project “Good Governance and Democracy” (June 2007), 4. 7. Ghassan El-Ezzi, “La reconstruction du Liban ...Un chantier semé d’embûches,” in Ghassan El-Ezzi, guest ed., “Où va le Liban?” Conﬂuences Méditerranée 56 (Winter 2005–2006), 16. 8. See: Bennett and Parajuli, “Making Smaller Social Groups Visible and Providing a Baseline for Tracking Results on Social Inclusion: The Nepal Multidimensional Exclusion Index,” 2011, http://un.org.np/attach ments/nepal-multidimensional-exclusion-index 9. Interview with the authors, December 10, 2012. 10. Ibid., December 6, 2012. 11. Letter dated June 29, 2015, from the Chair of the Secretary-General’s Advisory Group of Experts on the 2015 Review of the United Nations Peacebuilding Architecture addressed to the Presidents of the Security Council and of the General Assembly, A/69/968–S/2015/490.

Fletcher D. Cox is an Assistant Professor of Political Science at William Jewell College, and a Research Associate of the Sié Chéou Kang Center for International Security and Diplomacy at the Korbel School of International Studies, University of Denver. He specializes in the study of civil wars, political violence, and peacebuilding in divided societies, and has managed relief, development, and peacebuilding programs in multiple disaster and conﬂict settings.

Catherine Orsborn is a Doctoral Candidate in Religious Studies at the University of Denver/Iliff School of Theology, in the Religion and Social Change concentration. She is writing her dissertation on the complexities of engaging religious actors in peacebuilding in Lebanon, Bosnia-Herzegovina, and South Africa. She PEACEBUILDING FOR SOCIAL COHESION: FINDINGS AND IMPLICATIONS 309 is also the Campaign Director of Shoulder to Shoulder, where she offers strategies and support to regional and local efforts combatting discrimination.

Timothy D. Sisk is Professor of International and Comparative Politics and Associate Dean for Research at the Josef Korbel School of International Studies, University of Denver; he is an associate fellow of the Sié Center and of the Geneva Center for Security Policy as well as an occasional consultancy advisor to the United Nations Development Program Bureau for Crisis Prevention and Recovery. CHAPTER 11

Conclusion

Fletcher D. Cox and Timothy D. Sisk

The research presented in this book lends support to the view that identity- based conflict remains a continuing source of threat to international peace and security. Pervasive societal fear of discrimination, marginalization, and disadvantage creates conditions conducive to conflict recurrence and the transformation of civil wars into highly localized, deeply protracted sectarian conflicts. Each of the cases under evaluation in this volume has seen renewed or new threats to peace along identity lines. Violence in Myanmar between Rakhine Buddhists and Rohingya Muslims has led to hundreds of fatalities and widespread population displacement, a conflict which escalated further in 2015 and 2016. In Nigeria, tension between Muslim and Christian groups deepens social divisions, generates inter-group fear, and continues to spark sporadic bombings and very deadly attacks. In Kenya, in 2013, a large-scale terrorist attack at the Westgate Mall in Nairobi increased

© The Author(s) 2017 311 F.D. Cox, T.D. Sisk (eds.), Peacebuilding in Deeply Divided Societies, Rethinking Political Violence, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-50715-6_11 312 F.D. COX AND T.D. SISK inter-group tension along the coast, especially in Mombasa, where Muslim and Christian clerics have been killed or disappeared, leading to ongoing riots. In 2014, Islamic militias conducted multiple attacks directly targeting Christian groups in the Northeastern Province and along the Coast. Identity-based violence has increased recently in Lebanon. The assassination of Mohamad Chatah in the center of Beirut in 2013, a highly symbolic event, led to renewed sectarian clashes between Sunni and Shi’a groups, further intensified due to spillovers from the Syrian refugee crisis. In Sri Lanka, while direct civil conflict ceased in 2009, Buddhist monks engaged in deadly clashes with Muslim groups, such as the June 2014 riots in Aluthgama and Beruwala in Southern Sri Lanka. As a result of careful reflection on prior peacebuilding interventions, international policy frameworks now suggest that a pivotal factor for successful post-conflict recovery and violence reduction is strengthening inter-group socialbondsaswellasre-establishing trust between social groups and the state. Peacebuilding and development actors formally recognize social cohesion as a necessary condition for the sustainability of peace settlements, for building state capacity and fostering socio-economic development. International peacebuilding networks, which include international organizations, states, and local non-governmental organizations, have in recent years oriented themselves around this concept. This occured, in part, to answer long-standing concerns that prior peacebuilding interventions were not sustainable because they were not based on a deep understanding of social dynamics. All told, this shift is an important development in the evolving debates about the substance and, ultimately, teleological aim of peacebuilding.

INTERNATIONAL PEACEBUILDERS:MEDIATORS OR MEDDLERS? In all of the case-study countries in this volume, donors work diligently to combat discrimination and marginalization under complex operating conditions and political realities. The indirect pursuit of social cohesion through inclusive and participatory economic development programming, overall, stands out as the most promising approach. Donors that sought to engage directly with the politics of identity and marginalization, such as the World Bank’s efforts in Nepal, faced significant resistance from dominant state elites. Initial unequal access to public goods (e.g., infrastructure, health, and education), then leads to unequal access to private goods (capital, jobs, advanced education, high-paying positions in the public service sector, etc.), deepening ethnic divisions. For example, this is clearly CONCLUSION 313 the case in Kenya, where Kikuyu dominate public and private positions, in Guatemala with the LaDindo and in Myanmar with Burmans. In many cases, direct donor efforts did little to reverse deep rooted “horizontal inequalities.” The deeply divided societies under consideration all have very little capacity to extract taxes, and have large informal or shadow economies. Social fragmentation and lack of state legitimacy undermines tax extraction capacity, which remains a key factor for improving governance. For example, in Lebanon, there is an ongoing, contemporary process of “retribalization”–even middle class urban professionals express the preference to live apart with their own homogenous confessional group. Across all of the cases there is evidence that where social groups encounter insecurity, or a widely shared sense of danger within a political system, that this erodes horizontal social cohesion. While the social cohesion approach remains highly relevant, it has not yet reached its full potential. The primary reason many international efforts fail to foster cohesion is that interventions have not dealt adequately with political drivers of persistent inter-group fear along local, communal, and state levels of analysis. This finding holds across all seven cases. The social cohesion approach and its related advocates, therefore, must accept that peacebuilding for social cohesion is highly political work that involves remediating or reforming long-standing social and economic inequalities that generate pervasive fear in society. In Guatemala, for example, historically, fear among state elites of indigenous uprisings formed the ideological basis for a scorched earth campaign during the civil war. Indigenous groups were seen as the main supporters of guerrilla movements aiming at structural economic and political change. The military not only destroyed over 600 villages and killed over 100,000 people but also committed acts of genocide trying to destroy indigenous culture and identity, and protect their own access to power and control of the state. At present, the Guatemalan state remains highly repressive toward indigenous social protest through the use of selective and highly symbolic political violence. In a climate of pervasive fear and a lack of justice for past human rights violations this form of state-led violence reinforces low levels of organization and high levels of fear among minority groups. Kenya is a relatively stable state, undergoing rapid political and economic transition. Significant constitutional reforms incentivize elites to form crosscutting political coalitions to win elections, yet identity politics continues to ignite conflict that sometimes turns violent between ethnic 314 F.D. COX AND T.D. SISK groups across the country. As depicted by the 2007–2008 post-election violence and recent local-level political violence in Isiolo, Moyale, and Mandera, ethnic communities that generally coexist peacefully have engaged in increasingly deadly violence against each other. This is largely due to political positions driven by ethnic interests. The rapid breakdown of bridging social bonds that have long persisted among communities now is exacerbated by fear of the unknown, fear of subjugation and exclusion, and fear of violence. These fears escalate in situations of turmoil and uncertainty. Political elites in Kenya benefit from societal fears of exclusion and marginalization, as mobilizing groups based on ethnic ties and inter- group stereotypes is a low cost form of mobilization. Making appeals to social fears is a low-cost way to overcome collective action dilemmas. Kenya is also experiencing increasing collective fear of Somali groups due to rising violence related to spillovers from Kenya’s military intervention in the Somali conflict. Tensions and conflicts between Muslims and Christians in Kenya revolve around ideological differences exacerbated by fear, especially where minority Muslim groups have raised political issues. In Lebanon, over 800,000 Syrian refugees place increasing pressure on the already fragile social system. The Syrian refugee crisis in Lebanon has become deeply political. Many citizens fear that permanent settlement could reconfigure and rebalance social and political relationships. Recently, there has been a sharp rise in Sunni extremism, in part due to spillovers from the Syrian conflict, rising suspicion and fear of future instability. NGOs operating in Lebanon also have to manage fears related to engagement with particular social groups. For instance, several NGO leaders interviewed suggested that they refused financial assistance from the United States Agency for International Development because of the US stance vis-à-vis Hezbollah. Fearful for their political autonomy, several Lebanese NGOs decided to hold back and refuse the money of donors whose support came with conditions, particularly when these conditions deepened the rift between the various components of Lebanese society. In Myanmar, a tentative democratization has led to new social conflict, especially of a religious nature. Buddhist extremists target Muslims. Some radical anti-Muslim agendas have proliferated in online forums. As a result, communal fear is high, with communal anxiety deepening among minorities, especially Muslim groups. Moreover, Myanmar is currently undergoing a rapid process of political and economic transition. There is a deficit of trust and a high level of inter-group fear and suspicion in Myanmar society that is shared across all economic, ethnic, and religious CONCLUSION 315 backgrounds. The decades of military dictatorship shifted social expectations in ways that have been difficult to reconcile with a more open and tolerant society. Moreover, pervasive corruption not only increases social fear but also exacerbates the level of resentment among disenfranchised groups. In post-war Nepal, governance paralysis is generating new social fears, such that identity-based political mobilization and social fragmentation continued to escalate even after the adoption of a new constitution in 2015. Within the new multi-party system, elites make power sharing deals among themselves, but are largely unable to achieve consensus or majority-based, action. Therefore, key commissions are not functioning, there is still no constitution, and there is not even a clear budget. Under the conditions of governance paralysis, there is rising fear among stakeholders that ongoing paralysis will only function to reignite social conflict. Moreover, a very contentious and ongoing debate around ethnic federalism is shaped by pervasive fear of continued marginalization among minority groups. The acceptance of ethnic federalism as a system is the result of the increased mobilization and collective action of marginalized groups, but it also results from fear stemming from the legacy of violence that unless addressed timely, the issue may generate violent ethnic conflict. Nigeria is the fastest growing economy in Africa, but economic growth has not reduced inter-ethnic violence. Symbolic attacks, acts of abduction, and terrorism are increasing insecurity and inter-group fear, a key factor deepening hatred and mistrust among ethno-religious groups. The persistence of attacks with religious undertones continues to deepen the cleavage between Christian and Muslim communities within the political sphere and undermine the potential for effective peacebuilding and donor interventions. Historically, local administrative units in Nigeria were delineated based on ethnic and sub-ethnic territorial units. This structure created a powerful incentive for the largest ethnic groups to organize political parties along ethnic lines in order to control their regions and lock out “immigrant” populations present and to control minorities within the regions. In Sri Lanka, decades of pervasive fear and violence from multiple formal and informal bands of armed actors moving across the country, have resulted in the deterioration and weakening of ties between communities, including those economic, associational, and personal. Moreover, poorly coordinated development aid exacerbated social and communal divisions and created inter-group competition. The tendency of international aid 316 F.D. COX AND T.D. SISK groups to show preference for minorities and historically marginalized groups stoked fears of international favoritism. Donors tend to uphold the global norm of providing services for the most marginalized groups, but this resulted in aid directed toward Tamil-dominated areas, sparking fear among Sinhala groups of a return to the colonial “Tamil preference.” In this case, donor intervention increased inter-group fear and created new conflict dynamics. Moreover, the fact that grievances of Tamils have not addressed by the state is generating rising fear and anxiety among minority groups. In all of these contexts, holistic approaches to transforming governance structures are necessary for containing identity-based conflicts. Perceived social injustices, economic inequality, religious and political repression, poverty, and social exclusion interact to create conditions highly conducive to recurrent social violence, even in settings with high levels of international intervention. Interventions that address structural drivers must work together with interventions that address psychological and identity-based drivers. Misunderstanding of identity-based and religious conflict dynamics can exacerbate conflict or lead to missed opportunities for peace. Rising fear also is associated with escalation dynamics, which can in turn help better inform early warning and crisis-response networks as to when tensions may be most likely to flare.

LIVING TOGETHER:AUTHENTIC INCLUSIVITY IN THE NATION AND STATE Considering how contentious addressing social cleavages and marginalization can be, especially when external actors spotlight forms of state-led exclusion, it is surprising that the concept of social cohesion has become engrained within peacebuilding policies and approaches in a relatively short amount of time across a broad range of deeply divided countries. However, while state elites have adopted formal institutions that aim to promote cohesion, at the same time, leaders also continue to govern through informal practices (e.g., patronage, clientelism, and corruption) that generate fragmentation, distrust and fear among groups. Therefore, the goal of interventions designed to fight fear should be authentic inclusion, rather than symbolic inclusion. In general, donors and civil society implementing partners tend to circumvent the state to conduct cohesion-related programs that engage CONCLUSION 317 the most marginalized populations. While supporting very vulnerable populations can help to model global human rights norms, circumventing the state can also lead to negative outcomes, and undermine the “neutral” status that donors aim to maintain in contentious political environments. This is a risk that interveners must carefully calculate as related to the larger strategy. Post-crisis governance that fosters peace and inclusive development requires strengthening local mechanisms for peacebuilding and development policy-making. In-depth understanding of the various contexts at which external initiatives are aimed and greater contextual literacy are necessary for development actors who seek to engage “informal,” non- state actors in development policy-making. External mediation and intervention in settings with deep identity-based social divisions is not a cure-all for conflict, fragility, or underdevelopment. Local mechanisms exist with which to solve major social problems and these mechanisms should be utilized to promote processes of integration, ownership over peace formation process, and long-term sustainability of peace and development initiatives. From this perspective, cohesion requires leveraging local knowledge and building on local pillars for peace, such as churches, indigenous groups, and other local institutions. Donors, however, often under-invest in community-based solutions to conflict and violence. The “problem- solving approach” donors tend to employ tends to overlook conflict histories and local knowledge. This mode of conflict resolution does not help solve deep historical grievances and alleviate inter-group fears. External actors need internal legitimacy before they can function to help address root causes of conflicts between conflicting parties; this requires donors to trust local knowledge and to support informal, local institutions that have such capacity.

ENGAGING ETHNIC AND RELIGIOUS ACTORS FOR PEACE Efforts to engage religious actors in process of fighting fear must bear in mind that religion operates in a myriad of ways ranging from the highly individualized and internal to the deeply communal and from ideological to religio-ethnic modalities. The religious sector is a parallel or alternative international system, which expresses itself through both formal and informal structures. Programs aimed at engaging religion must take care to understand the context-specific functions of religion and religious 318 F.D. COX AND T.D. SISK identities in a particular space. Religious organizations and communities are more than an “informal institutions” that may or may not have capacity to assist in donor-initiated interventions; rather, they are both structured and structuring features of society. Religion is expressed in both individual and communal ways, which means that inter- and intra-faith dialogue are deeply interlinked. Overcoming fear of the “other” is an arena of social cohesion where religious communities have a strong role to play. Minority groups tend to engage in violence when they fear a dominant group will create a society that constrains their right to practice religion or other factors relatedtothegroup’s identity. This feeling of group insecurity and fear creates windows for violent collective action. The emerging trend among specialists in inter-faith dialogue, therefore, is that intra-faith dialogue must precede inter-faith dialogue. This is due to the fact that it is important to have consensus on how to approach highly contentious issues of identify and oppression (minorities, exclusion, power- relations, etc.), and mentally prepare groups for engaging with social difference. In deeply divided societies, extremist religious actors often emerge to challenge national elites, who may be of their own religious identity, but feel left out of the political framework. While these particular groups may precipitate inter-religious clashes down the road, often it is intra-religious conversations that are most relevant to the emergence of extremist groups. In other words, intra-religious group sectarianism often triggers more severe forms of identity-based conflict. The challenge for the international community is finding innovative ways to support below-the-radar activities that engage in and support both intra- and inter-faith dialogue processes, where they appear critical for conflict resolution. Peacebuilding must be holistic. Some inter-religious dialogue efforts have remained disconnected from other forms of peacebuilding, such as in the Sri Lanka case. Disconnected efforts have failed to deal with underlying social inequalities, or to look at the ways religious tension is related to other identities and grievances. In other words, focus on religious dialogue, alone, is problematic, considering that conflict impacts all types of social cleavages, not only religious cleavages. Rarely is religious tension, alone, the only potential conflict driver. Religion and religious identity, and how these factors map onto or interact with ethnic and other forms of identity, differ greatly from context to context. Sectarian identities and how they interact with politics in Lebanon, differ greatly from CONCLUSION 319 religious identity in Nigeria, despite the fact that both contexts involve Christians and Muslims. Engaging religious communities in the process of fostering social cohesion requires developing collaborative approaches to two of the most difficult problems for divided societies: the problem of identity politics, and; the problem of state legitimacy. A cohesive nation is more likely to experience economic growth and overcome poverty and underdevelopment traps. Cohesion across religious communities is thus useful, and often necessary, for improving both the horizontal and vertical dimensions of social cohesion and its resulting effects. Religious communities can help improve trust and confidence in the state, given that the state is making strides in a more just and inclusive direction. Religious leaders can help engage local communities in political participation, and can help dissemi- nate messages of national cohesion in communities. Helping religious leaders to engage communities in improving vertical cohesion should be a key focus of development actors.

PEACEBUILDING FOR SOCIAL COHESION:FIGHTING FEAR Pervasive fear at multiple levels of analysis often undermines social cohesion and limits the effectiveness of even the most carefully designed and strategic peace building and development efforts. What, therefore, can internal and international peacebuilders do to help deeply divided societies rediscover a renewed sense of living together? Building cohesion among social groups and between groups and the state is a very long and tedious process. Not only are gains in social cohesion hard to measure, when there are improvements, they can easily be undermined by violence, economic stagnation, or even the rhetoric of few political elites, “playing the ethnic card” in the pursuit of power. There are multiple issues, including, land rights, national identity, and local and state government reform, that generate inter-group fear and vulnerability to conflict recurrence in post- conflict countries. The key question, then, is what does international aid for peacebuilding have to offer to really help solve complex, social and political debates? Direct approaches to fostering social cohesion can be risky. In many of the cases, the distribution of aid or the pursuit of “peace dividends,” and even the implementation of peacebuilding dialogues (where external resources are available to fund these activities) have become sources of local tension. In very protracted conflicts, dialogue fatigue has become a 320 F.D. COX AND T.D. SISK major issue. The replication and duplication of various (but still quite similar) dialogical peacebuilding models in the absence of perceptible social, economic, and political change has undermined trust in international donors and local government actors. Moreover, in some cases, rapid contraction of donor support for peace efforts has been abrupt and leaves behind a legacy of vulnerability to conflict due to a culture of dependence, which undermines local “resiliency” and “capacity to cope” without external assistance. Donor efforts can, and often do, have unintended consequences in divided societies. This is expected. However, the primary risk for donors in engaging in direct efforts to build social cohesion is undermining more local, “organic” processes of inter-group reconciliation. The introduction of external resources under conditions of resource scarcity can lead to the emergence of inauthentic or even predatory actors who are interested in economic gains from donor funding than promoting reconciliation. More subtle and indirect ways of supporting local governments and civil society actors who are personally invested in the pursuit of long-term peace and social cohesion can be the best way to support processes where groups are working to reimagine how to live together in the wake of violent conflict. Indirect and complementary approaches are necessary. The case studies reveal that economic development alone is not sufficient for sustainable inter-group peace, nor is dialogue alone. Economic growth and protracted inter-group conflict continue to go hand in hand in cases such as Sri Lanka, Kenya, and Nigeria. This is due to the fact that economic development (especially large-scale infrastructural development projects) tends to generate new patterns of social exclusion and marginalization, which creates platforms for the emergence of potentially conflict-inducing inter- group grievances. For these reasons, complementarity in approaches to building social cohesion along the vertical and horizontal planes is necessary. Fostering social cohesion requires the integration of security, peace, and development initiatives that involves complementary interventions for improved governance coupled with support of and dialogue approaches to engagement of marginalized or disadvantaged groups. Local development projects that address concrete communal needs (shared interests across groups) can function as indirect, but critical, opportunities for the reemergence of inter-group cooperation and collaboration. This recommendation, in theory, is already part of norms of best practice for aid in conflict settings. In practice, however, the studies CONCLUSION 321 show that various types of donor interventions still tend to operate in separate programmatic streams or silos. Development-oriented actors tend to focus on building infrastructure or institutions, and are under pressure to move so quickly that building cohesion within the process rarely remains a priority. Perhaps the most important role that peacebuilders can play is to identify and provide as many places, institutions, and areas for interaction and engagement as possible. This would provide societies emerging from conflict multiple opportunities for interaction to develop unique pathways toward locally-fostered interdependence and “bridging” social capital. Building social cohesion is a long-term process that requires years of investment to achieve desired change in state-society relations as well as relations among diverse social groups. Most donor funding runs on a short-term basis and is reactive rather than proactive in responding to identity-based conflict. This mode of operation does not provide enough time for support to yield positive results in terms of social cohesion. Reluctance to address deep-rooted structural problems that drive conflict and lead to social fragmentation makes the problem worse. Increasingly, donors emphasize value for money in order to justify spending, but this makes them more willing to invest in countries with minimal socio- political and economic risks that may have negative implications on funding. Donors are risk averse. Situations of social fragmentation, however, are quite unpredictable. Considering the accompanying complexities donors need to account for, balancing long-term investments in social cohesion work with short-term pressures to show results is difficult. Efforts to fight fear should include appropriate planning for exit strategies that guarantee a significant level of sustainability and local ownership of initiatives. International peacebuilding initiatives tend to rely on dialogical activities that aim to improve inter-group relations. However, most societies experiencing conflict also lack access to very basic needs (e.g., water, security, shelter, health, etc.). Peace, alone, cannot address what many communities need to be able to avoid fear of insecurity and a lack of subsistence. Without addressing the underlying fears associated with livelihoods, food security, and physical safety no amount of dialogue or donor-driven incentives will work to fully reduce vulnerability to outbreaks of violence. Citizens can only feel secure within environments that provide for and meet a broad range of needs that are critical not only for survival but also for social inclusion and participation. 322 F.D. COX AND T.D. SISK

Rediscovering a new basis for social cohesion in countries affected by identity-based violence should practically focus on the systematic reduction of fear. This starts with access and influence in governance institutions, processes, and in tangible outcomes such as development gains for marginalized groups. Peacebuilders must prioritize armed violence reduction – both root causes and escalatory dynamics – if local and national dialogue programs to promote social cohesion are to be successful in fostering a sense of shared destiny or “living together.” For direct efforts, fighting fear involves direct communication to improve trust and to demonstrate symbols of broader trust for societies by those who symbolize such trust, such as religious and local leaders. For indirect efforts, international peacebuilders can work to alleviate individual fears through protection and empowerment programming and especially to ensure livelihoods through legal means. Ultimately, identity-based fears can be alleviated through horizontal strategies of creating deep and widespread political, economic, and social interdependencies and vertical strategies that promote competent, inclusive national and local governance. While international peacebuilders cannot create social cohesion when it is absent, through deliberate strategies to link development assistance with institutions and processes that fight fear, they can help incentivize cooperation and inclusion and, thus, contribute to sustainable peace.

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A Bonding social capital, 4, 80, 86, 291 African Independent Church, 73 Bridging social capital, 4, 38, 86, 128, Al Shabaab, 77, 78 291, 321 Ambivalence of the sacred, 9 Buddhism, 142, 145, 146, 160, 247, Amnesty International, 48, 78 248, 267, 278 Anglican Church, 73, 229, 233 Buddhist Sangha, 142, 145 Arab Spring, 2 Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN), 140, 162, 163 C Aung San Suu Kyi, 138, 141, 173n30 Caste conﬂict, 255 Catholic Church, 34, 38, 47, 61, 73, 75, 227, 270 B Catholicism, 34 Basic Operating Guidelines Cedar Revolution, 107, 121 (BoGs), 208 Censuses, 79, 80, 113, 116, 140, 142, Batticaloa Peace Committee, 279 143, 151, 165, 171n17, 173n38, Bi-lateral Donors 182, 184, 188 European Union, 54, 198 and ethnic contestation, 140–141 Japan, 161 Center for Constitutional Dialogue Norway, 126, 198 (CCD), 200 United States, 37, 84, 126, 198, 314 Centre for Humanitarian Bodu Bala Sena (BBS), 258 Dialogue, 166 Boko Haram, 14, 223, 226, 233, Christian Association of Nigeria 239, 241 (CAN), 216, 227, 228, 233, 241

Christianity, 38, 75, 76, 146, 184, Conflict vulnerability, 6, 10–11, 15, 224, 226–227, 240, 241, 270, 20, 21, 30, 81, 87, 93, 156, 166, 291, 299 293, 304 Christian missionaries, 67 Consociationalism, 24, 103–130 Church of Christ in Nigeria power-sharing, 24 (COCIN), 227 Constituent Assembly (CA) Civil society Nepal, 176, 193 activism, 264 Constituent Assembly State collective efficacy, 24, 87 Restructuring Committee, 193 cross-cutting, 3, 53, 86, 302 Cyclone Nargis, 138, 161, 162 Erase the Face of the War Lebanon, 104 fragmentation of, 2, 17, 36, 86, D 295, 316 Dalits Movement, 179, 182, 183, movements, 276 190, 196 CK Lal, 178 Daniel arap Moi, 97n5 Clientelism, 7, 27, 49, 58, 66, 93, 95, Danish Aid Agency (DANIDA), 296, 303, 316 201, 204 Colonialism, 73, 76, 235, 247 Danish Refugee Council, 119 Communist Party of Nepal Dar al-Fatwa, 108 (CPNM), 175, 176, 178, 181 Deeply Divided Societies, 1, 2, 3, 5, Complementarity, 320 7–9, 10, 15, 20, 66, 287, 288, Conflict assessment, 29 301, 302, 311, 318, 319 Conflict drivers Democratization clientelism, 7, 58, 66, 93, 296, 303 and conflict, 18, 167, 176, 184, colonialism, 76, 247 291, 294, 314 fundamentalisms, 76 and identity-based politics, 185, 294 horizontal inequalities, 21 Development cooperation, 28–29, 59, identity-based discrimination, 176 83–84, 161 land rights, 42, 43 Distributional fairness, 7 marginalization, 5, 6, 7, 15, 36, 60, District Peace Committees, 83, 86, 87, 78, 80, 84, 179, 250, 261, 265, 88, 305 292, 295, 296, 297, 306, 312, Donors 314, 315 coordination, 204 patron-client loyalties, 68 dilemmas of; circumventing the political institutions, 7, 25 state, 209, 304, 306; support to relative deprivation, 6 identity-based state repression, 34, 36, 55, 289, organizations, 202 295, 297 and faith-based organizations, 9, 92 violent crime, 35, 36 perceptions of, 29–30, 45, 46, 84, Conflict resolution, 50, 55, 92, 139, 89, 114, 117, 138, 160, 184, 163, 193, 237, 238, 239, 317, 318 268, 277, 300 INDEX 339

Druze Progressive Socialist Party Ethnic minorities, 140, 142, 144, 147, (PSP), 116 149, 150, 152, 154, 158, 161, 167 Ethnic mobilization, 6, 8, 15, 95, 294 Ethnic polarization, 196 E Ethnic politics Economic and Social Commission for local ethnic politics, 183 West Asia (ESCWA), 124 politicization of identity, 179 Edmund Leach, 143 Ethnic propaganda, 26, 28 Efraín Ríos Montt, 45 Ethnic security dilemma, 24, Electoral institutions, 14, 25–26, 79, 217–218, 219 115, 157, 188 European Community Humanitarian Elites, 7, 14, 23, 24, 25, 26, 28, 35, Ofﬁce (ECHO), 125 37, 40, 41, 50, 52, 56, 68, 71, 72, European Union, 54, 121, 139, 198 79–81, 85, 89, 93–95, 112–118, Evangelical Christians, 249 120, 123, 128–130, 143, 146, Evangelical Church of West Africa 151, 157, 177, 179, 182, (ECWA), 227 184–186, 188, 189, 191, Existential fear, 7 200–202, 204, 205, 206, 209, Extremism, 293, 314 217–219, 222, 231, 255, 276, 288, 294, 298–303, 306, 312–316, 318–319 F and identity-based mobilization, Faith Based Organizations (FBOs), 9, 34, 298 92, 95, 96 Empowerment dilemma, 296–298 Faith-based Peacebuilding, 86 Ethics and Anti-Corruption challenges to opportunities for, 86 Commission of Kenya Fatalism, 179, 184 (EACC), 82 Fear Ethnic diversity, 84, 155, 191 assimilation, 292 Ethnic entrepreneurs, 7, 183 economic, 76, 314, 315 Ethnic federalism, 153, 178, 182, 190, politics, 3, 51–53, 94 193, 197, 315 societal, 2, 94, 314 Ethnic groups Federal Character Commission, 235 Hausa, 218, 230, 234, 240 Federalism, 24, 140, 153, 178, 182, Igbo, 218; Ixiles, 46; Kalenjin, 66; 183, 186, 187, 190, 193–194, Kikuyu, 66, 70, 79, 312; 197, 202, 256, 315 Ladindos, 313 Freedom House, 49 Yoruba, 218, 230, 234, 240 Fundamentalism, 76, 228 Ethnic identiﬁcation, 71, 247, 253, 288 Ethnicity, 3, 6, 17, 21, 23, 24, 26, 33, 49, 67, 72, 73, 74, 146, 155, 179, G 181, 185, 187, 195, 202, 216, G7+, 4, 30 217, 219, 223, 230, 234, 290 Garissa University College, 65 340 INDEX

Global Alliance for Ministries and Indigenous groups, 14, 33, 34, 45, 47, Departments of Peace, 237 55, 59, 67, 76, 184, 187, 198, Global Centre for Pluralism, 103 313, 317 Globalization of religion, 290 Janajati Movement, 187, 188 Goodluck Jonathan, 216, 226, 236, 241 Maya, 34, 45 Gore Bahadur Khapangi, 182 Informal institutions Guatemala, 6, 9, 14, 19, 33–62, clientelism, 93, 316 289, 290, 291, 293, 297, 301, corruption, 3 303, 313 informal economies, 59, 60 informal ethnic rotation principle, 217, 219 patronage, 27, 66, 67, 70, 80, 95, H 113, 203, 253, 305 Hariri, Raﬁq, 107, 110, 120 Institutional engineering, 25, 115 Hate speech, 26, 90, 274 Inter-group exclusion, 70 Hinduism, 176, 184, 278 Inter-group fear, 66, 168, 287, 313, Hizballah, 107, 109, 121, 124, 314, 315, 316, 317, 319 126, 129 Internally Displaced People Horizontal inequality, 11, 21, 22, (IDPs), 28, 39, 65, 69, 78, 79, 40, 42, 177, 181, 191, 288, 85, 141, 149 303, 313 International Alert, 238 Human Rights Watch, 48 International Center for Transitional Human Rights Writers Association Justice, 122 (HURIWA) Nigeria, 236 International Commission against Impunity in Guatelmala, 37 International Committee of the Red I Cross, 252 Identity-based conﬂict, 14, 20, 35, 59, International Convention on the 80, 96, 299, 318 Elimination of All Forms of Racial Identity-based political Discrimination (ICERD), 188 mobilization, 185, 294, 297, 315 International Criminal Court Identity-based violence, 1, 3, 8, 66, (ICC), 28, 74, 79, 81 296, 312, 322 International Crisis Group (ICG), 81 Identity groups, 6, 7, 10, 22, 67, 178, International donors, 14, 33, 34, 37, 195, 290, 297, 298, 300 40, 52, 53, 67, 88, 90, 97, 120, ILO Convention, 169, 39, 58 124, 127, 129, 148, 161, 166, Imagined communities, 23, 292 205, 206, 258, 271, 274, 294, 320 Inclusion agendas, 182, 183, 196, International norms, 91, 177, 188 198, 203, 205 Do No Harm (DNH), 91, 177, 188 Independent National Electoral International organizations, 3, 4, 29, Commission (INEC) 119, 141, 160, 161, 164, 198, Nigeria, 221 264, 274, 275, 296, 304, 312 INDEX 341

Inter-Religious Forums, 75 Local Governance and Community Inter-Religious Council of Development Program Kenya, 74, 91 (LGCDP), 200 Intra-religious conﬂict, 240, 318 Local institutions, 52, 289, 304, 317 Iranian Revolution, 225 Local ownership, 208, 262 Islam Local peacebuilding Islamic State in Iraq and the Levant Councils of Elders, 84 (ISIL), 129–130 Village Development Committees Islamization, 216 (VDCs), 203 Shia, 131n7, 225 Suﬁ, 224, 225, 226, 230 M Madhesh Movement, 183, 185, 186, 189, 205 J Mae Tao Clinic, 167 Jathika Vimuthi Peramuna (JVP), Mainstream Protestantism, 90, 227 249, 255 Maoists, 176, 182, 183, 186, 193 Marginalization, 5, 6, 7, 11, 15, 36, 60, 72, 77, 78, 80, 84, 95, 179, K 186, 206, 235, 250, 261, 265, Kachin Independence Army/ 292, 295–297, 303, 306, 312, Organization, 144, 146, 151, 314–316, 320 153, 171n11 Maronite Christian Lebanese Forces Kadhis Courts, 77 (LF), 116 Kenya, 6, 9, 14, 19, 65–97, 290–293, Maronite Christians, 113, 114 298, 303–304, 313, 315 Maronite Church, 108 Kenya African National Union Marxist rebellions, 249 (KANU), 70 Menchú, Rigoberta, 50, 52 Methods, 303 social cohesion assessment L guide, 10, 20 Land-identity nexus, 293 Military dictatorship, 138, 139, 146, Latin American Political Opinion 147, 148, 151, 154, 155, 159, Project, 3 165, 168, 294, 315 Lebanese Armed Forces (LAF), 115, Military victory, 252, 256, 267 117, 121, 124, 129, 132n20 Millenium Development Goals Lebanon, 9, 19, 103–130, 291, 295, (MDGs), 55 299, 302–303, 312–314, 318 Minority groups, 9, 22, 24, 77, 79, 80, Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam 89, 143, 148, 153, 156, 168, (LTTE), 245 188, 194, 257, 292, 293, 295, Local governance, 81, 86, 125, 200, 296, 297, 313, 315, 316, 318 203, 253, 302, 320 Mo Ibrahim Foundation, 222 342 INDEX

Molina, Otto Pérez, 38, 41, 46, 53 Nigeria Alliance for Peace, 237 Montt, Ríos, 34, 45, 46, 50, 58 Nigeria Institute for Peace and Multiculturalism, 169 Conﬂict Resolution (IPCR), 237 Multi-ethnic political parties, 147 Nigerian Labor Congress (NLC), 235 Muslim Brotherhood, 130 Nigeria Stability and Reconciliation Muslim Students Society of Nigeria Programme (NSRP), 237, 240 (MSS), 225 Non-governmental Organizations Mwai Kibaki, 70, 74, 90 (NGOs), 4, 10, 29, 54, 59, 123, Myanmar, 1, 6, 9, 14, 137–174, 291, 126, 166, 238–240, 252, 269, 294, 299, 313, 314 272, 274, 277, 279, 281, 297, Myanmar Peace Centre, 162, 166 301, 312, 314 Norm transmission, 29, 295

N National Cohesion and Integration O Commission (NCIC) of Obasanjo, Olusegun, 223 Kenya, 66, 89, 292 Organisation for Economic National Council of Church in Kenya Co-operation and Development (NCCK), 73, 74, 90 (OECD), 15, 17 National Dialogues, 14, 55, 115, 320 Organization of Islamic Nationalism, 21, 26, 27, 73, 128, 145, Cooperation, 162 146, 152, 185, 193, 231, 234, 245, 253, 254, 256 Nationality Code in Lebanon, 111 National Races Channel P Myanmar, 143 Panchayat, 180 National Steering Committee for The Paris Declaration on Aid Conﬂict Management and Peace Effectiveness, 54 Building (NSC) in Kenya, 83 Parity of esteem, 7, 11, 16 Nation-building, 235, 257, 292 Peace agreements Negative resilience, 127–130 1943 National Pact in Nepal, 9, 175–213, 293, 294, 303, Lebanon, 105, 106, 113 305, 312, 315 Bandaranaike-Chelvanayakam Nepal Collaborative Leadership and Agreement of 1958, 248 Dialogue Program, 200 Comprehensive Peace Agreement Nepal Federation of Indigenous (CPA) Nepal, 175 Nationalities (NEFIN), 188 Kenya’s National Accord, 87 Nepal Peace Trust Fund (NPTF), October 2015 Nationwide Ceaseﬁre 198, 199 Agreement Myanmar, 141 Nigeria, 6, 9, 14, 19, 215–244, 290, Panglong Agreement, 143 291, 299, 301, 303, 311, 315, Senanayake-Chelvanayakam pact of 319, 320 1965, 248 INDEX 343

Sri Lanka Ceasefire Agreement 191, 200, 202, 204, 218–219, (CFA), 274 235, 298, 303, 314, 319 Ta’if Accords of 1989, 106 Political participation, 7, 25, 27, 36, Peace architectures, 86, 87, 88, 43, 49, 50, 140, 159, 192 89, 94, 199, 203, 304, 305, Political Parties, 2, 7, 26, 47, 49, 59, 306, 307 73, 81, 83, 147, 152, 177, 180, Peace Brigades International, 48 182, 186, 190, 193, 194–195, Peacebuilding 197, 200, 201, 202, 218, 250, approaches to, 10, 15, 89–91, 319; 253, 257, 263, 298, 315 interfaith dialogues, 19 All Progressives Congress (APC) dilemmas of, 4 Nigeria, 221 direct approaches, 319; early Communist Party of Nepal - United warning, 83, 238; national Marxist Leninist (CPN – dialogue, 320 UML), 178 effectiveness of, 86, 319 Federal Democratic Republic resilience, 127 Alliance (FDRA), 197 Peacebuilding institutions, 66 National League for International Commission against Democracy, 140 Impunity (CICIG), 37, 57 National People’s Liberation Front Peacebuilding organizations, 4, 87, Nepal, 182 167, 265 Nepali Congress (NC), 177–178 Sarvodaya, 272, 279 The People’s Democratic Party Peacekeeping operations Nigeria, 219 United Nations Interim Force in Rakhine Nationalities Development Lebanon (UNIFIL), 124 Party, 147 United Nations Mission in Nepal Tamil National Alliance, 258 (UNMIN), 176, 177 Unified Communist Party of Nepal United Nations Verification Mission UCPN(M), 176 in Guatemala Union Solidarity and Development (MINUGUA), 54 Party Myanmar, 147, 152, 157 Peace processes, 9, 10, 25, 54, 165, United Democratic Madheshi Front 177, 197, 198, 202, 250, 251, (UDMF), 197 267, 268, 275, 276 United Indigenous People’s Pentecostalism, 227, 291 Front, 188 Personal Status Regime in Union Assembly Myanmar, 138 Lebanon, 107, 108, 110 Unity and Democracy Party of Political disaffection, 297 Kachin State, 147 Political economy, 28, 59, Political transitions, 50, 155, 195, 231–232, 292 196, 209, 256 Political elites, 14, 23, 25, 26, 68, 71, Population displacement, 65, 72, 79, 85, 93, 94, 95, 115, 120, 146, 311 123, 128, 157, 177, 182, 185, Prebendalism, 27, 93 344 INDEX

Proselytism, 75 Rogues’ Peace, 219, 220, 222 Public services, 3, 41, 52, 53, 91, 95, Rohingya, 140, 142, 144, 152, 158, 119, 186, 191, 196, 250, 253, 159, 164, 165, 167–169, 293, 312 171n17, 311

R S Radicalization, 35, 78, 238, 289, 293 Saffron Revolution, 145 Raila Odinga, 69, 90, 224 Search for Common Ground, 122, 200 Rakhine Buddhists, 144, 147, 311 Sectarianism, 107, 110, 121, 291, 318 Ranked micro-societies, 7 Shiite, 108, 224, 225, 226, 230 Rebel groups and movements Sinhala, 246–249, 253–258, 261, Guatemalan National Revolutionary 267, 269, 275, 316 Unity(URNG), 49, 50 Sinhala Only Act of 1956, 248 Kachin Independence Army, 144, Social capital 146, 151, 153, 171n11, bonding, 4, 80, 86, 291 174n40 bridging, 4, 38, 86, 128, 291, 321 Karen National Liberation Social cohesion Army, 153 assessment framework, 10, 20 Shan State Army – South, 144, 153 bi-lateral donor interests, 207; United Wa State Army, 144, 153 circumventing the state, 209, Reconciliation, 9, 57, 74, 78, 83, 85, 304; competing foreign 87, 89, 90, 92, 95, 96, 99n38, interests, 169; elite 131n16, 203, 237, 238, spoilers, 117; gender, 17, 141; 258–260, 264–266, 271, 273, identity politics, 113, 179, 184, 281n1, 284n26, 295, 296, 301, 294, 300, 313, 319; 305–306, 320 institutional legitimacy, 86; Refugees, 39, 78, 103, 111, 118–119, language policy, 27, 292; 121, 123, 127, 129, 131n16, political capture, 88, 96; 132n17, 149, 314 religious movements, 291; Relative deprivation, 6, 292 sectarianism, 121, 291, 318; Relative group worth, 7 unequal service delivery, 293 Religions and Social Cohesion components of; horizontal, Buddhism, 146 objective, 86; horizontal, Christianity, 146 subjective, 86; vertical, 16; Hinduism, 184 objective, 16; vertical, 16; Islam, 146 subjective, 16 Religions for Peace, 273, 274 constituional reform, 91; dialogical Religious mobilization, 241 models, 300, 301 Religious organizations, 19, 47, 48, deﬁnition of, 15–17 60, 73, 96, 318 dimensions of; caste-based role of, 73 discrimination, 179, 255; INDEX 345

economic change, 300; Social welfare programs, 51, 53, 235 economic inequality, 316; elite My Familia Progresa, 53 behavior, 116; gender, 141; Societal fear, 2, 94, 314 historical context, 20, 179; existential threats, 7, 9, 218 horizontal dynamics, 43; Society for Peace Studies and land-identity nexus, 293; Practice, 237 national identity, 21; private Special Coordinator for Lebanon sector, 43, 62; public goods (UNSCOL), 124 provision, 302; resource Spoilers, 25, 117, 200 scarcity, 85, 95, 302, 320; Sri Lanka, 6, 9, 13, 14, 30, 245–285, rhetoric, 26, 85, 95, 105, 179, 289, 291, 293, 295, 296, 301, 258, 298; youth bulge, 22, 42 307, 312, 315, 318, 320 economic interdependency, 204 Sri Lanka Center for Peacebuilding elites, 299; ideas, 150 and Reconciliation (CPBR), formal institutions; Accord on the 273, 279 Identity and the Rights of the Statebuilding Indigenous People, 39; authority, 304 Associate Citizenship Rules in capacity, 304 Myanmar, 142; Association for domestic-international Documentation and Research interactions, 20 (UMAM) Lebanon, 122; fragility, 304 Association to Protect Race and legitimacy, 304 Religion, 139–140; Committee State Peace and Development Council for the Protection of Race and Myanmar, 138 Religion in Myanmar, 145; State Restructuring High Level Kenya National Cohesion and Recommendation Integration Commission, 66, Commission, 193 89, 292; Sri Lanka Lessons State-society relations, 15, 24, 58, 79, Learned and Reconciliation 81, 82, 321 Commission (LLRC), 259; Sri Lanka Ministry of Social Integration, 260, 262; Sri T Lanka National Policy Tamil, 245–248, 253–255, 257–258, Framework for Social 263, 268, 275, 289, 316 Integration (NPFSI), 260 Tammam Salam, 119 local governance reform, 81; public Tharu Movement, 188–190 services, 253 Tharu Welfare Society (TWS), 189 transnational dynamics; Thein Sein, 156, 157, 161, 167 diasporas, 28; globalized Theravada Buddhism, 142, 146 religion, 240, 291 Threat perception, 8 Social contract, 5, 22, 69, 84, 88, Tolerance, 14, 17, 27, 139, 178, 205, 167, 209 223, 225, 226, 227, 237, 299 346 INDEX

Transnational networks, 4, 291 United Nations Resident Truth commissions, 34, 39, 40 Representative, 177 Comisión de Esclarecimiento United Nations Resolutions, 29 Histórico (CEH), 39 Resolution 1820, 29 Truth Justice and Reconciliation United Nations Security Council Commission (TJRC) of (UNSC), 121, 124 Kenya, 78, 90 United Nations World Food Program (WFP), 41 United States Agency for International Development (USAID), 37, 84, U 126, 314 UK Department for International US State Department’s Economic Development (DFID), 237 Support Fund, 121 Union Assembly Myanmar, 138, U Wirathu, 140 141, 152 United Nationalities Federal Council Myanmar, 156 United Nations Children’s Emergency V Fund (UNICEF), 199, 201, Vision 2030 Kenya, 83 206, 237 United Nations Development Programme (UNDP), 99n45 W Peace Building and Recovery Westgate Mall Attack, 65, 76, 78, 311 Unit, 199, 200 Wole Soyinka, 223, 228 United Nations High Commissioner World Bank, 4, 17, 30, 53, 170n6, for Refugees (UNHCR), 103 204, 232, 236, 264, 303, 312 United Nations Peacebuilding Commission, 5 United Nations Peace Fund for Nepal Y (UNPFN), 198, 199 Yar’Adua, Umaru Musa, 220, 221