B009THJ1WI EBOK

by Young, Crawford

  In 2006, the Mo Ibrahim Foundation established an annual Prize for Leadership Achievement, whose emoluments exceed those of the Nobel Prize. The award is intended to recognize meritorious presidential performance and constitutional departure from office; Joaquim Chissano of Mozambique won the first prize in 2007, and Festus Mogae of Botswana won the second in 2008. No prize was awarded in 2009 and 2010; Pedro Pires of Cape Verde was honored in 2011. In retrospect, beyond Nyerere, Senghor, and Mandela, one might find few credible nominees for such a prize from earlier decades. Otherwise put, outstanding leadership could make a difference; however, only a modest number of countries had rulers who left an enduring positive legacy.

  The emergence of the pattern of life presidency by the late 1960s, with the military coup being the sole avenue of incumbent displacement, figured prominently in the catalogue of discontents surfacing during the 1990 moment of democratic enthusiasm. Most African states adopted new constitutions at this time, two-thirds of which included provisions limiting presidential terms to two.61 As chapter 3 indicates, none of the independence constitutions had such a provision. They had been closely modeled on the political institutions of the colonizer; terms limits were alien to European parliamentary systems, and the newly installed presidentialist French Fifth Republic had yet to confront this issue.

  As the democratic wave receded a decade later, moves to eliminate term limit provisions began to accelerate. Thus far, term limit repeal has taken place in Guinea (2001), Tunisia and Togo (2002), Gabon (2003), Chad and Uganda (2005), Cameroon and Algeria (2008), and Djibouti (2010). In several of these cases, repeal was fiercely opposed, and in Nigeria, Malawi, and Zambia it was blocked by parliaments and civil society. I find this repeal trend regrettable; the lessons of five decades of African politics speak eloquently to the advantages of periodic alternation. The longer a ruler holds power, the more difficult disengagement becomes. The accumulation of repressive acts, including arbitrary imprisonments and even assassination of journalists or other vocal critics, make the ruler vulnerable to prosecution if an opposition party ever wins power. So also does resort to neopatrimonial or prebendal practices to sustain loyalties. The threat is not only to the ruler but also the inner circle of henchmen, likely partners in predation, who insist on prolongation of his rule. Perpetuation in power also tends to consolidate security clienteles tied to the ruler by ethno-regional affinities. The congealing ethnic alignments may advantage some, but they may permanently marginalize others to the ultimate cost of the polity: this is one of the lessons of the recent spread of internal wars. The certainty of rotation from office that term limits enforce makes presidential power accountable to a degree and imposes a constraint on predation and repression. To be sure, a countervailing incentive may exist if there is a deadline for translating power into wealth, but at the cost of likely self-exile on leaving office.

  I have argued that in the period since 1990, there has been a striking variation in pathways, in contrast to the largely parallel state itineraries of the first three decades, from total state collapse to relatively effective political and economic liberalization. Beyond leadership, the relative strength and capacity of states facilitated successful transition, although as Ivory Coast illustrates, it did not assure it. The weakest states, such as Central African Republic or Guinea-Bissau, were especially vulnerable. Although protracted civil wars, as chapter 7 argues, had a range of specific causes, they usually exacted a toll on state capacity and performance even after relative peace returned, and they frequently had spillover effects on adjoining states. Financial vulnerability and severity of revenue constraints varied. Neopatrimonialism was more deeply entrenched in some countries and thus more strongly persistent. Some forms of patrimonial autocracy were more destructive than others; Bongo in Gabon was much less damaging to the polity than Mobutu in Congo-Kinshasa. But no list of overall determinants provides a full explanation of the contemporary divergence of itineraries; much of the difference lies in the particular events, sequences, and configurations of particular countries.

  TOP PERFORMERS: BOTSWANA AND MAURITIUS

  The evidence strongly suggests that a democratic rule-of-law state over time makes a large difference. Negatively put, extended periods of internal war or disorder, tyrannical rule, or high levels of corruption impose lasting damage; a lost decade is difficult to overcome. To illuminate this thesis, I return to the striking cases of Botswana and Mauritius. Chapter 3 takes note of the arresting fact that of the fifty-three African states they are alone in preserving an uninterrupted constitutional democratic framework since independence. This enduring attachment to a liberal political order and related stability must surely figure prominently in any explanation of their place at the top of the rankings of state performance in table 9.4, and it merits further reflection.

  Chapter 3 also points to the particular nature of colonial occupation and legacy in both cases.62 For different reasons, the colonial state in these two countries was, relative to most of Africa, a minimal presence. In Botswana, British rule until the era of decolonization was a holding operation in anticipation of eventual South African incorporation. The Tswana chiefs, who had originally accepted British overrule to avert such a fate, were trusted intermediaries, whose cattle herds prospered. From their ranks came much of the first generation of postcolonial leaders, including the founding president, Seretse Khama of distinguished ancestry. Minimalist colonial occupation had its costs: slender physical and human infrastructure (twelve kilometers of paved roads, twenty-two university graduates at independence).

  Though Khama died in office in 1980, he had made careful provision for a constitutional succession, placing Quett Masire, of chiefly derivation from another of the eight Tswana subgroups, as vice president. Festus Mogae was elected president in 1998 when Masire stepped aside and was replaced in turn by Ian Khama, son of Seretse and chief of the largest Tswana subgroup as well as Botswana Defense Force commander, in 2008. His military background, his critics murmur, finds reflection in a political style less consensual than that of his predecessors.

  The ruling Botswana Democratic Party (BDP), which initially enjoyed the favor of the withdrawing colonizer, has remained continuously in office for more than four decades. This entrenched domination in some eyes dilutes the seductiveness of Botswana’s performance. However, the BDP ascendancy has survived nine postindependence elections whose integrity has not been challenged. Its electoral majority in the last two polls in 2004 and 2009 was 52% and 53%, respectively. The single-member district majoritarian electoral system, combined with a divided opposition, translates these figures into large parliamentary majorities. Although Freedom House ranks Botswana below Cape Verde, Mauritius, and Ghana in its freedom scale, BDP hegemony does not rely on repression.

  Rather, stable and open politics, joined to wise leadership, facilitated the crafting of a performing developmental state built on the modest institutional legacy of its colonial predecessor. At the local level, the customary structures of indirect rule served as the basis for regional administration. The legitimacy of the chiefly class was less impaired by its colonial associations than in most other states. The kgotlas, or local councils, retained a role in fostering consensus. To an unusual degree, the modern state was an organic growth rooted in Tswana historical culture.

  The chiefly core of the postcolonial elite provided cohesive leadership for a modernization project, even though there were rivalries between the groups as well as significant subject populations within the Tswana zones.63 Perhaps because of the local rooting of the chiefly elite and customary sources of its social standing, Botswana never yielded to the temptations of socialist orientation or the integral state. A market economy was the clear choice, and it was made at the time of 1966 independence, under the guidance of an autonomous state apparatus. Somali scholar Abdi Samatar provides a penetrating exegesis of Botswana’s success: “To fully understand the nature of the postcolonial [Botswana] state, its role and ability to transform the econ
omy, requires an appreciation of the motives and agendas of two groups: those dominant-class members who occupy strategic positions in the state apparatus and those bureaucrats who provided the leadership with technical advice. . . . This leadership recognized the importance of disciplined and technically competent public institutions for systematic capitalist development.”64

  The professionalism of the state managers finds measure in the unusually low incidence of corruption. The Transparency International Corruption Perceptions Index in table 9.4 rates Botswana as the least corrupt country in Africa. One plausible explanation offered for the exceptional integrity of the state lies in the fact that the core chiefly elite’s wealth comes from their own cattle and land; political power was not a unique pathway to wealth. Further, a performing state guaranteed a stable livelihood for the public service; thus Botswana never experienced the evisceration of the real value of civil service salaries through high inflation or extended pay arrearages that forced government employees in many states into survival-driven corrupt practices.

  At the moment of independence, Botswana had meager receipts and was completely a tributary to the South African economy. The main sources of in come were cattle, a modest part of which came from beef exports, and remittances from its migrant workers in the South African mines. The new state further commercialized its cattle herds and expanded its meat-packing industry through a well-run parastatal.65 Mineral good fortune blessed Botswana independence; the development of a copper mine and the providential discovery of a rich diamond pipe transformed the revenue equation, and began to provide a resource base for developmental investment. The crucial differentiator was the insulation of the windfall from predation. Revenues flowed into state-building, infrastructure, and social provisions, creating an enduring developmental momentum.

  I have underlined the lasting significance of the norms of leadership in stilled by exemplary founding presidents. Seretse Khama, who had a modest style that starkly contrased with the flamboyant lust for power often visible elsewhere, set a standard of conduct that had a lasting effect. Michael Crowder offers an insightful portrait: “Personally he was equable, a good listener with a keen sense of humor. He was the most unpompous of men and disliked that trait in others. He was unostentatious—like most Batswana, who were chiefs or commoners—and was happiest when on his farm or cattle post.”66

  Critics of the Botswana example are not without some pertinent caveats to its model status. Though leaders have changed, the BDP remains a fixture in power, even if it can argue that its effective rule merited continuous reelection. Though not by predation, the chiefly elite has prospered during its decades of political ascendancy. Even if inequality in Botswana is far from the extremes of kleptocratic states, there is enough to validate the grumbling from the less favored. The rents from the giant diamond mine are turning downward; new mineral sources to sustain state revenue will soon be needed. Projects to develop new mines in the Kalahari region populated by San groups have generated protests. HIV/AIDS hit Botswana hard, reducing life expectancy from nearly seventy to forty by 2003; however, Botswana has the re sources and capacity to organize a public health campaign to combat this plague and reduce its incidence. Even acknowledging the limits of success, I find Botswana’s performance admirable.

  Mauritius, the other polity that has seen continuous postindependence constitutional democracy, differs in many key respects from Botswana. The small geographic dimensions of the island polity and absence of high-value natural resources are a first obvious distinction. Even more striking is the demographic difference; in utter contrast to the relative homogeneity of Botswana, Mauritius has a remarkably complex cultural pluralism. From its first eighteenth century settlement as a slave-based sugar plantation, mostly French planters drew on the servile labor of Africans from the eastern coast and Madagascar. Under British rule from 1810 to 1968, emancipation of slaves in 1834 led the planters to seek an alternative labor supply through importation of indentured workers from south Asia. Later, a small Chinese mercantile population completed the demographic kaleidoscope. Although a number of Franco-Mauritian large sugar estates remain, a good part of the land passed into the hands of the Indian indentured servants, who became a small and medium planting class. Over time, a creolization occurred amongst the African population and those of mixed race. As in Botswana, the colonial state rested lightly upon Mauritius, small in scale and minimal in its functions.

  Mauritius faces the challenge of managing a complex cultural pluralism sharply defined along the distinct axes of race, ethnicity, and religion. Nearly 70% are Indian, of whom 80% are Hindu; Chinese and Franco-Mauritians are small minorities, and the remainder are of African or mixed ancestry. As a census and—in practice—political category, whites, coloreds, and Africans are combined under the label “general population,” who make up 30% of the total. Cultural identities are strong; serious rioting along identity lines accompanied independence. But communal polarization has been held in check, in good part through the play of democratic politics structured by ingenious constitutional engineering.

  The sixty-two elected parliamentary seats are mostly contested in three-member districts, in which each voter chooses three candidates, not necessarily from the same party. Parties can run multiple candidates; the three securing the most votes are elected, irrespective of party. The electoral districts are carefully drawn to take account of communal geography; the goal is to obtain a parliamentary demography reflecting the cultural diversity of the country. To ensure the approximation of this goal and prevent any group from feeling like it is being culturally excluded, eight additional seats are allocated to “best losers” with an eye to overall balances.

  The national parties run slates of candidates that represent all major groups. Electoral geography and a multiparty system mean that no party can expect to win a majority alone; thus coalitions are the rule. By custom, the heads of government usually come (except for Paul Berenger [2003–5]) from the largest group, Hindus, though from different parties. There have been three heads of state since independence: Seewoosagur Ramgoolam (1968–82), Aneerod Jugnauth (1982–95), and Navinchandra Ramgoolam (1995–2003, since 2005). The two most important parties over time have been the Mauritian Labor Party, a centrist formation, and the Mouvement militant mauricien, created as a class-based leftist party in 1969 by Franco-Mauritian radical Paul Berenger but moderating when in governing coalitions. All parties have been subject to periodic splits, creating a fluid political alignment and frequent realignment of coalitions. On two occasions (1982 and 1995), incumbent coalitions lost virtually all the elected seats, though the triumphant alliance won less than two-thirds of the votes.67 To a striking degree, political families have supplied the rulers; the initial key players, Seewoosagur Ramgoolam, Aneerod Jugnauth, and Gaëtan Duval, have been replaced by their respective sons, Navinchandra, Pravind, and Xavier-Luc.

  Contrary to pessimistic expectations at the time of independence, the developmental performance matches the political.68 Entirely a sugar plantation economy at independence, Mauritius made creative use of an export-processing zone to build a light industrial base, especially textiles, long benefiting from privileged access to the European Common Market. Tourism also provided substantial revenue and employment. Sugar production expanded, enjoying a period of high prices in the 1970s and occasionally since. More recently, financial services have joined the list. Although the textile sector in particular has come under heavy pressure recently from Chinese competition and the export-processing zone is less successful than at first, state initiatives to diversify the economy have built a more secure economic foundation. Even though ruling coalitions have often been unstable, prudent policy, a competent bureaucracy, and a rule-of-law state offset the limits of the natural endowment. Mauritius ranks well at the top of the Mo Ibrahim governance index and second only to Botswana in Transparency International measures of state integrity.

  FINAL REFLECTIONS

  These two cases serve
as a fitting coda to this volume. Even if perhaps idiosyncratic and not representative of the continental landscape, they do illustrate another future that is open to Africa other than the stagnation and decline predominant in the first three postcolonial decades. The last two decades provide encouraging evidence that the top two performers may be joined by a significant number of countries.

  I share the view of David Leonard and Scott Straus that the developmental impasse was linked in the first instance to politics: the neopatrimonial autocracy and personal rule that were its primary expression in the first decades, joined to the pathologies of the integral state project and illusions for a number of state socialism experiments.69 But politics is also a learning process, and the bitter lessons of state crisis and failure are inscribed on the historical tablets informing recent deliberations on governance. Recent evidence would indicate that political learning has taken place, that sectors of competence at the heart of states have somewhat enlarged, and that developmental performance has improved, not only through favorable commodity prices in recent years. The “official mind” operating at the inner core of many states has a far more informed and realistic grasp of the global political economy and the choices available. There is a larger consensus on the value of democratic politics and market economics than existed in the early decades, grounded in the lessons drawn from the excesses of the 1970s and 1980s; this is reflected in the nature of recent constitutional debate, as well as AU projects such as NEPAD.