World Outlook Issue 42 by Grace Afsari

WWWWW OOOOOOO AA UUUUUUUUUUUUU JJJJJJJ JJ IIIIIIIIIIIII AAAAAAA

Featuring: Integrating Socially-Inclusive Peace-Building Objectives into Post-Conflict Economic Development By Daniel Bornstein, Page 7

Trade Diversion Effect within Currency Unions: A Disaggregated Approach By Wills Begor, Page 16

China-Africa Relations: Implications for African Development By Michelle Lee, Page 33

Institutionalizing Womenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Rights: An Interview with Lisa Baldez World Outlook Staff, Page 40

Tangier, Morocco: A Photo Essay By Elena Zinski, Page 78

Staff Editorial: Israeli Politics By Axel Hufford, Page 86

FALL 2012/WINTER 2013

ISSUE #42

“Today we use the term ‘the world’ with what amounts to brash familiarity. Too often in speaking of such things as the world food problem, the world health problem, world trade, world peace, and world government, we disregard the fact that ‘the world’ is a totality which in the domain of human problems constitutes the ultimate in degree of magnitude and degree of complexity. That is a fact, yes; but another fact is that almost every large problem today is, in truth, a world problem. Those two facts taken together provide thoughtful men with what might realistically be entitled ‘an introduction to humility’ in curing the world’s ills.”

— President Emeritus John Sloan Dickey, 1947 Convocation Address

World Outlook An Undergraduate Journal of International Affairs

Editors-in-Chief

Grace Afsari-Mamagani ’13 John Biberman ’13

Executive Editor

Marina Villeneuve ’13

Senior Editors

Maria Fernandez ’14 Saara-Anne Azizi ’14

Staff Editors

Ryan Smith ’14 Aditya Gulanikar ’14 Mandy Bowers ’14 Andrew Kenealy ’15

Vanessa Trinh ’14 Kristy Choi ’14 Ed von Kuhn ’14 Michael Altamirano ’13

The Editors of World Outlook would like to express our special thanks to the John Sloan Dickey Center for its encouragement and assistance.

Alumni Advisory Board Amb. Robert L. Barry ’56 Peter M. Lehmann ’85 Richard L. Duncan ’57 Edward C. Luck ’70 Dennis C. Goodman ’60 Peter B. Martin ’51 Richard C. Halloran ’51 Amb. Jonathan Moore ’54 Mark C. Henrie ’87 Christopher Wren ’57 Faculty Advisory Board Stephen G. Brooks Michael Mastanduno Douglas E. Haynes Edward Miller Nelson M. Kasfir Diederik J. Vandewalle Martin Dimitrov Founders Timothy E. Bixby ’87 Peter M. Lehmann ’85 Anne E. Eldridge ’87 Mark C. Henrie ’87 Peter D. Murane ’87 About the Journal: World Outlook is a student-run journal of international affairs that publishes papers written by undergraduate students. Its name and missions are motivated by the words of late Dartmouth President John Sloan Dickey. Subscription Information: World Outlook (ISSN 0895-7452) is published bi-annually. Subscription requests should be directed to worldoutlook@dartmouth.edu. World Outlook is free on demand for all current and former Dartmouth students, faculty, and alumni. All contributions are tax-deductible. Submissions: World Outlook welcomes all current and former undergraduate students to submit papers relating to any aspect of international affairs. Papers to be considered for publication must be available in digital format. Papers should include references and bibliography consistent with the Chicago Manual of Style guidelines, though they need not be at the time of submission. Length should be under 7000 words, although outstanding works of greater length will be considered. Submissions must be original works with accurate citations. Submit your work for review to world.outlook@dartmouth. edu, and include your name, school, and class year. All submissions become property of World Outlook. Contact: World Outlook welcomes comments, criticism and corrections. Letters to the editor and corrections should be addressed to: World Outlook, Dickey Center, 6048 Haldeman, Dartmouth College, Hanover, NH 03755 or via email to world.outlook@dartmouth.edu. Please visit our website at www.dartmouth.edu/~worldoutlook

number 42

fall 2012/winter 2013

Table of Contents Editors’ Note ................................................................................................................................................................ 6 Integrating Socially-Inclusive Peace-Building Objectives into Post-Conflict Economic Development Daniel Bornstein .................................................................................................................................. 7 Trade Diversion Effect within Currency Unions: A Disaggregated Approach Wills Begor ............................................................................................................................................. 16 China-Africa Relations: Implications for African Development Michelle Lee .......................................................................................................................................... 33 Institutionalizing Women’s Rights Interview with Lisa Baldez .......................................................................................................... 40 Tapline, Syria, and the Suez Crisis: An Analysis of Pipeline Politics in the Era of Nasser and the Cold War Michael Schwartz .............................................................................................................................. 45 Silenced Secession: The Cabindan Tragedy Kelly Tropin ........................................................................................................................................... 63 Tangier, Morocco: A Photo Essay Elena Zinski ........................................................................................................................................... 78 Staff Editorial: Israeli Politics Axel Hufford .......................................................................................................................................... 86 Staff Editorial: Is Oil South Sudan’s Fatal Flaw? Feyaad Allie ............................................................................................................................................ 88

Editors’ Note During the past few years, we have witnessed emerging changes to the world order. Revolutions in the Middle East have created titanic shifts in the politics of that region, a persistent economic crisis has hamstrung the traditionally dominant countries of the West, and unprecedented growth in China and Sub-Saharan Africa has lifted millions out of poverty. In this 42nd issue of World Outlook, we focus on this shift in international power, the “rise of the rest,” and the shortcomings of the current international system. We start with a paper by Dartmouth junior Daniel Bornstein, who analyzes the role that international financial institutions play in post-conflict societies. Conventional wisdom, according to Bornstein, dictates that peacebuilding activities can hinder economic recovery, and that peace is best promoted by focusing directly on economic development. This viewpoint provides cover for institutions to implement policies that do not take conflict into account. Citing privatization programs during Sierra Leone’s civil war, Bornstein argues that, because peace is a necessary precondition for economic development, institutions must be conscious of their policies’ impact on social and political cohesion. The subsequent paper, by Wills Begor ’12, examines trade creation and diversion effects of currency unions. While some hypothesize that participation in a currency union may reduce a nation’s trade with countries beyond this union, Begor finds that currency unions increase trade both between member states and with nonmember states. Begor’s result provides a strong case for the establishment of currency unions, which have the capacity to alter the world’s financial landscape. While the West has historically considered itself the primary supporter of Africa’s development, China has expanded its investment on the continent in recent years. Although a number of Western critics have labeled Chinese activity in Africa a form of neocolonialism, Dartmouth senior Michelle Lee characterizes the relationship as a mutually beneficial alliance in her paper, arguing that the approach could be further strengthened by addressing China’s impact on other economic and political outcomes in Africa. We next turn to a submission from Michael Schwartz ’12 that examines national actions during the Cold War era. During the Arab Nationalist wave of the 1950s, a number of countries nationalized their oil supplies while networks supplying oil to the West became targets for sabotage. America’s Tapline pipeline in Syria remained unharmed through this critical period. Schwartz investigates Syria’s motivations for protecting the pipeline, emphasizing the nation’s position at the crossroads of regional and international struggles. Finally, Dartmouth senior Kelly Tropin provides us with another example of the contemporary international system’s imperfections. Suggesting that movements for state secession can be evaluated by certain legal standards, Tropin argues that the Angolan exclave of Cabinda represents a region whose secession is justified. However, international support for Cabinda is shaped also by the economic interests of the U.S. and China, which rely on Angolan oil and on which a number of states are dependent for security. While Cabinda’s claims should be valid by international law, U.S. and Chinese interests preclude most states from recognizing the region’s claims, suggesting that a more just international system would require a more pluralist approach to power dynamics. This edition of World Outlook also features an interview with Professor Lisa Baldez on the international status of women’s rights, in addition to an introspective photo essay from Tangier by Elena Zinski ’15 and staff editorials on Israeli politics and South Sudanese oil practices. We hope you enjoy reading this issue — which represents an outstanding collection of original scholarship and content on the state of global affairs — as much as we enjoyed producing it. The Editors

Integrating Socially-Inclusive Peace-Building Objectives into Post-Conflict Economic Development Daniel Bornstein This paper challenges the conventional view that peace-promoting objectives can interfere with economic recovery, arguing instead that attention to policies’ peace-building potential is actually indispensable to the effectiveness of economic development. Central to this perspective is a “peace conditionality”: the notion that the international financial institutions’ (IFIs) loan conditions should be attached to policies oriented toward minimizing social divides— and thus reducing the likelihood of renewal of war—rather than toward fiscal stability indicators. Using the Sierra Leone civil war as a case study, this paper offers evidence of how the IFIs’ insistence on minimizing the state’s role in the economy impeded its ability to provide social services, keeping intact the marginalization of the groups whose discontent helped fuel the civil war. To demonstrate the detrimental implications for peace of focusing exclusively on fiscal reform, I document how the privatization associated with structural adjustment programs served to perpetuate social exclusion, helping to trigger Sierra Leone’s civil war. Economic policy needs to become more attentive to how it shapes political and social relations in a post-conflict setting.

Introduction The international financial institutions (IFIs) and their critics alike have recognized the relationship between post-conflict peace-building and economic development. I want to challenge the conventional view that peace-promoting objectives can interfere with economic recovery, and instead argue that attention to policies’ peace-building potential is actually indispensable to the effectiveness of economic development. This requires viewing civil war as reflective of economic and social ills that ought to be confronted, rather than as a mere interruption to a predetermined development pathway. While the macroeconomic reforms promoted by the IFIs may be appropriate for long-term development of a country that experienced conflict, policy priorities in the immediate wake of war ought to strive for the social improvement of the constituencies whose vulnerability contributed to the conflict. The goal should be not to completely delegitimize the role of IFIs in post-conflict states—after all, these big institutions aren’t going away—but rather to reorient their initiatives toward peace-building. Central to this approach is a “peace conditionality”1: the notion that the IFIs’ loan conditions should be attached to policies oriented toward minimizing social divides—and thus reducing the likelihood of renewal of war—rather than toward fiscal stability indicators. In this paper, I first outline the rationale of the traditional market-friendly reforms encouraged by IFIs and point out the weaknesses of this approach. I then explain why the post-conflict policymaking process has to be guided by a different set of considerations compared with peaceful periods. Particularly important is James Boyce, Investing in Peace: Aid and Conditionality after Civil Wars. International Institute for Strategic Studies, Adelphi Paper 351. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002). 1

Daniel Bornstein ’14, a native of Merrick, NY, is majoring in Anthropology and Environmental Studies. He has written columns on global agricultural development for the Christian Science Monitor, the Worldwatch Institute, and PolicyMic.com. This paper was written for Professor Jeremy Horowitz’s Politics of Post-Conflict Societies course.

Peace-Building Objectives

attentiveness to social policy and to addressing the roots of the crisis in the first place. After juxtaposing the different theoretical views, I examine the contents of Sierra Leone’s Poverty Reduction Strategy Paper (PRSP) and argue that its exclusive focus on fiscal indicators serves to largely neglect social inequality. In critiquing the PRSP, I focus on social inequality because it was a main factor in the onset the Sierra Leone’s civil war. I offer evidence of how the IFIs’ insistence on minimizing the state’s role in the economy impeded its ability to provide social services, keeping intact the marginalization of the groups whose discontent helped fuel the civil war. Next, I provide the theoretical framework that should underlie the post-conflict political process: the “peace conditionality” idea described above. To demonstrate the detrimental implications for peace of focusing exclusively on fiscal reform, I document how the privatization associated with structural adjustment programs served to perpetuate social exclusion, which in turn helped to trigger Sierra Leone’s civil war in 1991. Finally, I conclude by highlighting the crucial linkages among economic policy, political processes, and social outcomes. Comparing arguments related to post-conflict policy The conventional view embraced by the IFIs holds that macroeconomic stability, particularly reduction in inflation, must be prioritized for its contribution to economic growth. Two common policy stances embraced are the servicing of foreign debt and limits to government expenditures. This in part is meant to reflect donors’ concerns about incompetent governance following conflict, leading them to argue that assuring fiscal stability in the short run will lay the foundation for domestic economic growth and for long-term aid inflows. That explains why, immediately follow conflict, donors are most likely to provide assistance for debt payments and for a circumscribed civil service bill.2 There is a “virtuous cycle” at play here: governments’ commitments to macroeconomic improvements leads to donor confidence, allowing for the provision of financial assistance to fulfill policy objectives.3 This aid makes the policy goals more attainable, building political support for the post-conflict economic recovery strategy. The International Monetary Fund (IMF) contributes to this cycle through its Emergency Post-Conflict Assistance program (EPCA), intended for countries in which war has damaged the capacity to implement fiscal stability initiatives.4 By assuring donors that macroeconomic reforms are in fact being undertaken, the EPCA programs can be an effective way to generate donor support. Furthermore, the availability of donor funding, coupled with the capital generated by exports, enable low-income countries to afford the imports upon which they so heavily depend.5 The combination of higher economic growth and donor assistance is thought to markedly improve fiscal stability. Reductions in domestic financing are considered an integral part of curbing inflation within the first two years of the post-war period, whereas increases in domestic financing may impede efforts to quickly achieve low inflation targets.6 The IMF works on restoring fiscal institutions in post-conflict states, focusing on issues such as: creation of a legal framework for fiscal policy; mechanisms for coordinating foreign assistance; incorporation of donor countries into assessments of existing 2

Nicholas Staines, “Economic Performance Over the Conflict Cycle.” IMF Working Paper. June 2004. 3 Ibid. 4 Alberto Cutillo. “International Assistance to Countries Emerging from Conflict: A Review of Fifteen Years of Interventions and the Future of Peacebuilding.” International Peace Academy, Security-Development Nexus Program. February 2006. 5 Staines. 6 International Monetary Fund. “Rebuilding Fiscal Institutions in Post-Conflict Countries.” 2004.

Daniel Bornstein

institutions and into process for identifying aspects in need of assistance; and changes in government revenue and expenditure policies.7 Analyzing data from 17 countries in which such fiscal institution reform took place, the IMF found significant boosts in annual GDP growth: on average, it was -2.8 percent in the year preceding conflict, 3.9 percent in the year following conflict, and 4.9 percent in the most recent year for which data was available. The conventional neoliberal post-conflict policy approach embraced by the IFIs is problematic for two main reasons. First, it largely resembles the same policy prescriptions as those for peaceful states.8 Second, it is overly focused on policies that create the conditions suitable for maximizing donors’ volume of aid, without regard for how such policies can actually come at the expense of the social equity essential to avoiding future conflict. For example, while cuts to government expenditures may reassure donors concerned about budget deficits, this is counterproductive to peacebuilding if it reinforces the social disparities that triggered conflict in the first place. Overall, what is needed is a fundamental reevaluation of the urgency of particular policy objectives following conflict. To be clear, I am not contesting the importance of macroeconomic stability. Rather, I am arguing that while macroeconomic reform may have beneficial long-term impacts, the immediate post-conflict environment requires that socially-inclusive policy goals be a number-one priority because they can prevent the renewal of civil war. Post-conflict states require vastly different policy prescriptions compared with peaceful states. In the latter case, the typical approach for low-income states is to address macroeconomic imbalances. With limited technical capacity and political will for reform, the argument goes, the most practical path is to implement two or three politically feasible policies that yield quick payoffs.9 Such rapid returns are thought to help build support for reform in contexts where little support exists. In post-conflict societies, however, the serious interest in reform means that it would make little sense for governments to limit themselves to just two or three approaches. Furthermore, experience with conflict warrants a reevaluation of the prioritization of macroeconomic and socially-inclusive policies. Following civil war, social policy—particularly access to health care and education—is more important and macroeconomic policy less important than they would otherwise be.10 Social policy is crucial for two reasons: it helps address the grievances of marginalized populations that may have led them to instigate conflict, and it sends a signal that the government is seriously committed to peace.11 This peace signal is crucial for allaying investors’ concerns about renewed conflict, making it more likely that they will invest domestically.12 Private investment alone, however, is insufficient to achieve social inclusion, for investment would tend to neglect the economically devastated regions home to marginalized populations. Government investment must specifically target war-torn areas of the country. Returns to public investment may be highest in those regions with robust private investment, but the resulting neglect for war-torn regions would come with a high social cost. Thus there certainly is a tradeoff between economic growth-promoting spending and socially equitable spending.13 If Ibid. James Ahearne. “Neoliberal Economic Policies and Post-Conflict Peace-Building: A Help or Hindrance to Durable Peace?” POLIS Journal Vol. 2, Winter 2009. 9 Paul Collier et al., Breaking the Conflict Trap Civil War and Development Policy, Oxford and Washington D.C. (Oxford University Press and World Bank, 2003). 10 Ibid. 11 Boyce, Investing in Peace: Aid and Conditionality after Civil Wars. 12 Collier et al. 13 Ibid. 7 8

Peace-Building Objectives

governments are committed to targeting the most vulnerable populations, then they must avoid simply utilizing resources in a way that will guarantee the highest payoff. Indeed, that approach would only intensify social exclusion, rendering it antagonistic to peace-building objectives. Post-conflict economic development policy in Sierra Leone In this section, I examine the contents of Sierra Leone’s Poverty Reduction Strategy Paper (PRSP), and then situate it within the context of social realties to demonstrate that this poverty reduction agenda is failing to address the social marginalization that contributed to civil war. Sierra Leone’s PRSP—adherence to which is a condition for all loans from the IMF—evidences that the IFIs’ emphasis on macroeconomic stability may be coming at the expense of attention to sociallyinclusive policies. The document’s “Medium Term Framework for Economic Growth and Stability” focuses largely on growth-promoting policies but seems to pay little attention to social factors. Containing inflation to single digits is framed as essential to fiscal discipline and economic growth, and export promotion is seen as critical to gaining advantages in international trade. “Given good prospects to achieve the fiscal objectives for 2004, the fiscal framework for 2005-2007 will consolidate the gains already achieved in macroeconomic stability,” the report notes. In highlighting Sierra Leone’s macroeconomic progress, it goes on to site promising figures. The country’s GDP grew by 3.8 percent in 2000, 18.5 percent in 2001, and 27.5 percent in 2002 because of recovery in the agriculture, mining, and manufacturing sectors. Inflation dropped in 2001, turned negative in 2002, and remained in single digits in 2002. And diamond exports grew by 36.4 percent in 2003. The PRSP notes the expanding role of the private sector, bolstered by a deregulated investment climate and by the creation of the National Commission for Privatization. Such an auspicious economic outlook, however, falls far short of telling the complete story of Sierra Leone. When the PRSP is evaluated within the historical context of IFI-imposed market-friendly reforms, it becomes evident that macroeconomic stability seems to be taking precedence over healing the social exclusion that contributed to conflict. In particular, the youth whose marginalization spurred the onset of civil war have largely been unable to gain adequate access to education and employment—which would go a long way toward dealing with the social disparity linked to Sierra Leone’s civil war.14 As a 2009 UN Secretary General Report warned: “The huge numbers of unemployed or underemployed youth with limited or no hope for a better future coupled with spiraling food prices, the reductions in remittances and other effects of the global financial downturn, all contribute to a climate in which political violence could easily have thrived”.15 There is a consistent pattern of how IFIs’ insistence on fiscal discipline impeded the extension of social services such as education and health care. As a condition for loans, the IMF demanded that the government wage bill fall from 8.4 percent of GDP in 2002 to 7.0 percent in 2005.16 IMF pressure for state retreat from the economy, combined with aid conditions to pay off external debt, has constrained the provision of education and health care to the populations marginalized prior to the war: “Debt services payments are estimated at 47.8 percent of export of goods and nonfactor services… The debt burden militates against a sustainable economic recovery since it crowds out investments, particularly in education and health”.17 Although Paul Richards and Steve Archibald. “Converts to human rights? Popular debate about war and justice in rural central Sierra Leone.” Africa 72(3), (2002). 339-367. 15 Ahearne. 16 Joseph Hanlon. “Is the International Community Helping to Recreate the Preconditions for War in Sierra Leone?” The Round Table Vol. 94, No. 381, 459 – 472, (September 2005). 17 David Keen. “Greedy Elites, Dwindling Resources, Alienated Youths: The Anatomy of 14

Daniel Bornstein

8,000 additional teachers were needed in 2003, limits on the government wage bill meant that only 3,000 could be hired. And the number of health workers per capita is far lower than the average for sub-Saharan Africa, with 70 percent of the country’s health facilities unable to even function in 2001.18 Given this apparent diminished role of the government, it is worth questioning how the IMF could expect it to address a comprehensive list of capacity building measures. In accordance with the Memorandum of Economic and Financial Policies signed with the IMF, Sierra Leone’s government was supposed to complete a wide range of tasks, among them: “reestablish the capacity for policy planning and implementation; initiate a program of national reconstruction; rebuild communities, economic and social services, and infrastructure; develop a sound macroeconomic framework within which all programs can be implemented; and develop a budget and also the capacity to modify it”.19 It is hardly any surprise, then, that an IMF team that visited Sierra Leone in 2009 concluded that the government “lacked sufficient fiscal space for its development and poverty reduction programs”.20 Prioritizing peace-building objectives in the immediate wake of civil war In contrast to the assertion by IFIs that the peace process’ interference with postconflict economic policy will derail both, peace-building objectives must guide the economic approaches. The goal is not to delegitimize the IFIs role in post-conflict situations but rather to align their agendas with social inclusion objectives. This requires that the IMF institute a “peace conditionality”: the notion that its financial assistance encourages equitable government spending in order to benefit marginalized populations.21 Such an approach would effectively lay the foundation for long-term policy priorities for reducing the socio-economic disparities that contributed to conflict. This is not to neglect the importance of sound economic policy but to argue that a policy’s effectiveness in a post-conflict state ought to be judged by its success in addressing social exclusion. Some opponents of macroeconomic-based conditionality misguidedly argue that the IFIs should abandon conditionality altogether in favor of providing aid to those countries that have already exhibited sound economic policy.22 This idea, however, neglects the reality that different constituencies in a war-torn state tend to diverge in their policy preferences. Such critics, then, fall into the trap of advocating for a one-size-fits-all approach and lack attention to the needs of particular social groups. Implicit in the peace conditionality idea is that external donors and lenders do indeed have an impact on national political and social processes. Policies promoted by the IFIs have the potential to alter the fate of particular social groups, which is why the integration of peace-building priorities into post-conflict economic frameworks is so critical. It would be naïve for donors to assume that the relations between domestic groups are beyond their institutions’ control. These points run directly counter to the notion that the World Bank, as stated in its Articles of Agreement, should make loans “with due attention to considerations of economy and efficiency and without regard to political or non-economic influences or considerations”.23 Peace conditionality suggests that the IFIs ought to be assessed not by the volume of aid they disburse—as seen in the current incentive structures—but by exactly which constituencies benefit from Protracted Violence in Sierra Leone.” Internationale Politik und Geselschaft, 2. (2003). 18 Hanlon. 19 Marina Ottoway, “Rebuilding State Institutions in Collapsed States.” Development and Change. 33(5). 1001-1023. (November 2002). 20 21

Ahearne.

Boyce. Ibid, 10. 23 Ibid. 22

Peace-Building Objectives

the aid. IFI policies’ contribution to peace objectives requires the understanding that post-conflict situations may warrant a deviation from these institutions’ conventional approaches. IFIs often focus on reducing the budget deficits of low-income countries, presenting a dichotomy between the fiscal stability associated with low deficits and the instability associated with high deficits. But peace-building requires another way of looking at this issue: a small degree of deficit is perfectly acceptable if it enables the public spending necessary to achieve socially inclusive policy objectives.24 Trade policy is another example of the need to reconsider the IFI orthodoxies. Trade liberalization, and the attendant reduction in tariffs, is typically considered to deliver economic benefits for developing countries. Yet the trade-off is that lowering tariffs cuts off a source of revenue generation. But if enacting high tariffs may be essential to making available public resources for social programs, then countries should be encouraged to do so.25 Importantly, government distribution of education and health care spending must favor the youth whose vulnerability spurred Sierra Leone’s civil war. In fact, such attentiveness to social disparity will in the long-term build public support for increasing taxes, for people are more willing to pay them when the benefits are visible.26 Overall, the socioeconomic benefits realized by marginalized groups, as a result of policies that defy IFI orthodoxy, can help build public support for peace. By contrast, governments’ constrained policy space associated with typical neoliberal reforms may make it more difficult to achieve such a “peace dividend”.27 Repeating the mistakes of the past What’s most striking about the fiscal measures outlined in Sierra Leone’s PRSP is that they eerily resemble the approaches taken as part of the 1980s structural adjustment programs (SAPs), through which the minimization of the state’s economic role fostered social division. Cuts to the number of civil servants not only worsened unemployment but led to a brain drain of experienced staff, serving to weaken state institutions.28 By 1985, civil servants were receiving only 40% of the salaries that they had earned ten years earlier.29 The removal of food and fuel subsidies deepened the marginalization of those already below the poverty line.30 A severe drop in public expenditure—from 31 percent of GDP in 1980-81 to 16 percent by 1987-88—led to decreased capacity to provide health care and education.31 In its presentation at the Third United Nations Conference on Least Developed Countries in 2001, the Sierra Leone government acknowledged the negative social consequences of SAPs, including how trade liberalization undermined domestic industries. “It is hoped that the Poverty Reduction Strategy Paper approach to the adjustment process will to a large extent address these negative tendencies,” the government wrote in its presentation. Yet, as I have demonstrated, the PRSP contains many of the same ideas as the SAPs. In fact, in discussing the positive outcomes of SAPs at that conference, the government merely pointed to macroeconomic indicators such as reductions in both inflation and the budget deficit. Structural adjustment’s emphasis on the privatization of state enterprises 24

Ibid, 45. Ibid, 47. 26 Ibid, 48-49. 27 Ahearne. 28 Michael C. Pugh et al., War economies in a regional context: challenges of transformation. (Lynne Rienner Publishers: Boulder, 2004), 113. 29 Paul Williams. “Peace Operations and the International Financial Institutions: Insights from Rwanda and Sierra Leone.” International Peacekeeping 11(1). (2004). 30 Pugh et al., 114. 31 Ibid. 25

Daniel Bornstein

warrants extensive discussion, for it reveals the inconsistency between the IFIs’ conceptions and political realities. Although proponents of neoliberalism contend that free markets are a necessary alternative to what they view as inefficient government, in reality neoliberalism’s realization precisely depends upon the government’s role in expanding markets throughout society. In Sierra Leone, this is evident in how political elites manipulated privatization as a way to reinforce their own patronage networks. I do not mean to suggest that keeping intact the prevailing state-owned enterprises would have avoided manipulation; there are certainly legitimate concerns about abuses of power during this time period. Rather, I am advancing three ideas: 1) privatization alone is insufficient for rooting out political manipulation, because it is ultimately the government that decides who gets access to which resources; 2) privatization exists almost invariably within a broader context of state retrenchment that reduces the state’s capacity to provide essential social services; and 3) by eliminating the sharing of spoils among different power centers within the government, privatization means that the benefits are more likely to accrue to one particular constituency. When the Government Diamond Office—responsible for diamond exports— was withdrawn from its role, the result was that elite businesses connected to President Siaka Stevens were able to strengthen their control over the diamond industry.32 Stevens, in effect, used privatization to thwart political rivals. Included in these market forms were cuts to social services: state spending on health care and education fell by 60 percent between 1980 and 1987.33 Indeed, privatization and spending cuts not only occurred in the same period but converged to institutionalize social exclusion, as those people left out of patronage networks were the same ones hit hardest by reductions in access in health care and education.34 The regime of Joseph Momoh, Siaka’s successor, which lasted from 1985-1992, witnessed the continuation of the linkage between privatization and political control. Momoh granted concessions to foreign mining companies, particularly those without connections to other power centers in Sierra Leone so that he could develop his own patronage network.35 This foreign investment agenda corresponded with the IMF’s view that corruption within state-owned enterprises was to blame for the country’s economic troubles. Yet, as the examples of Siaka and Momo demonstrate, privatization did nothing to sever the link between political elites and businesses. It is clear that the IMF’s intentions for Sierra Leone’s economic development failed to grasp how powerful politicians would seize the opportunity to bolster their own standing. As Reno (1996) writes: Local innovations and adaptations of ‘reform’ leave rulers free to destroy state agencies, to ‘cleanse’ them of politically threatening patrimonial hangers-on and use violence directly to extract resources from people under their control. ‘Reform’ in this manner destroys bureaucratic means of exercising power and provides alternate means of control that encourages hard-pressed rulers to mimic the ‘warlord’ logic characteristic of many of their non-state rivals.36

Indeed, despite the seemingly paternalistic relationship between IFIs and African leaders, they each easily saw benefits in both minimizing the state’s economic role 32

Ibid, 112. Ibid. 34 Keen. 35 Pugh et al. 36 William Reno. “Ironies of Post-cold War Structural Adjustment in Sierra Leone.” Review of African Political Economy. No. 67, 7-18. (1996). 33

Peace-Building Objectives

and encouraging foreign investment. To the former, it was seen as a way to root out inefficiency and corruption; to the latter, it removed the need to share state spoils with other political elites, thereby solidifying the president’s own patronage network.37 This shared agenda was on display when the IFIs brought high-level Sierra Leone officials to Ghana in 1989 to show them how privatized industries and cuts in government spending had promoted economic growth.38 Sierra Leone then followed Ghana’s example, a move considered essential to reining in the state inefficiency that had apparently impeded economic performance. The outcome, however, defied the IFIs’ objectives, as I have shown with the Siaka and Momoh cases. The relationship between IFI-imposed privatization and continued political patronage needs to be looked at in the broader context of post-colonial economic development. The IFIs have been able to impose neoliberal policies on African countries largely by co-opting African political elites into the international economic technocracy. Development is rendered an apolitical process, with the IFIs presenting capitalism as “scientific”.39 Yet there is hardly any attention to how this apparently objective form of capitalism will be situated within local political and social contexts. The assumption is that particular economic outcomes, such as export increases and GDP growth, signal success regardless of political and social circumstances. But that thinking proved fallacious in Sierra Leone. The IFIs’ emphasis on foreign investment completely disregarded the clientelism that had long dominated the country’s political culture. And cuts in social services spending, while presented as a move toward budget stability, helped breed a marginalized segment of youth. Despite the IFIs’ attempt to approach privatization objectively, inevitably political ideas—particularly private property and economic freedom—underlie their thinking.40 Such values, however, always remain implicit, given that for the IFIs to openly acknowledge them would threaten their framing of development as distinct from politics. Most important, such de-politicization of development policy puts African governments in a difficult position: while IFI technocrats can co-opt African leaders into instituting free market reforms, it is ultimately the African governments themselves that have to deal with the detrimental consequences.41 For Sierra Leone, those consequences came in the form of a civil war. But the IFIs, by claiming to divorce themselves from politics, aim to evade any accountability for how their policies may have contributed to the war. Conclusion Coming to grips with the political and social repercussions of market reforms is important for post-conflict peace-building. By providing evidence that privatization and cuts to state spending helped generate the exclusionary atmosphere conducive to the civil war, I have sought to demonstrate that such approaches are antagonistic to the promotion of peace following conflict. After all, economic policy does indeed shape political alliances and social relations, and the IFIs need to become more attentive to this reality in post-conflict settings. To neglect these linkages is to risk deepening the grievances of groups whose marginalization triggered war in the first place. Overall, while the macroeconomic reforms promoted by the IFIs may be appropriate for long-term development of a country that experienced conflict, policy priorities in the immediate wake of war ought to strive for the social improvement of the constituencies whose vulnerability contributed to the conflict. Under this model, then, slashing spending for health care and education makes no sense for Sierra Leone. 37

Ibid. Ibid. 39 James Ferguson. Global Shadows: Africa in the Neoliberal World Order. (Duke University Press, 2006). 40 Ibid. 41 Ibid. 38

Daniel Bornstein

Works Cited Ahearne, James. “Neoliberal Economic Policies and Post-Conflict Peace-Building: A Help or Hindrance to Durable Peace?” POLIS Journal Vol. 2, Winter 2009. Boyce, James. Investing in Peace: Aid and Conditionality after Civil Wars. Oxford: Oxford University Press. International Institute for Strategic Studies, Adelphi Paper 351. 2002. Boyce, James. “Adjustment Toward Peace: An Introduction.” World Development, 23(12). 1995. Collier, P. , A. Hoeffler, L. Elliot, H. Hegre, M. Reynal-Querol and N. Sambanis, Breaking the Conflict Trap Civil War and Development Policy, Oxford and Washington D.C.: Oxford University Press and World Bank, 2003. Cutillo, Alberto. “International Assistance to Countries Emerging from Conflict: A Review of Fifteen Years of Interventions and the Future of Peacebuilding.” International Peace Academy, Security-Development Nexus Program. February 2006. Ferguson, James. Global Shadows: Africa in the Neoliberal World Order. Duke University Press, 2006. Government of Sierra Leone. “Poverty Reduction Strategy Paper: A national program for food security, job creation and good governance (2005-2007).” Government of Sierra Leone. Country presentation at Third United Nations Conference on the Least Developed Countries. Brussels, May 14-20 2001. Hanlon, Joseph. “Is the International Community Helping to Recreate the Preconditions for War in Sierra Leone?” The Round Table Vol. 94, No. 381, 459 – 472, September 2005. International Monetary Fund. “Rebuilding Fiscal Institutions in Post-Conflict Countries.” 2004. Keen, David. “Liberalization and Conflict.” International Political Science Review. 26(1) 73-89. 2005. Keen, David. “Greedy Elites, Dwindling Resources, Alienated Youths: The Anatomy of Protracted Violence in Sierra Leone.” Internationale Politik und Geselschaft, 2. 2003. Ottoway, Marina. “Rebuilding State Institutions in Collapsed States.” Development and Change. 33(5). 1001-1023. November 2002. Pugh et al. War economies in a regional context: challenges of transformation. Lynne Rienner Publishers: Boulder. 2004. Reno, William. “Ironies of Post-cold War Structural Adjustment in Sierra Leone.” Review of African Political Economy. No. 67, 7-18. 1996. Staines, Nicholas. “Economic Performance Over the Conflict Cycle.” IMF Working Paper. June 2004. Williams, Paul. “Peace Operations and the International Financial Institutions: Insights from Rwanda and Sierra Leone.” International Peacekeeping 11(1). 2004.

Trade Diversion Effect within Currency Unions: A Disaggregated Approach Wills Begor This paper uses a gravity regression model to examine the trade creation and diversion effects associated with currency unions. Trade between countries that share a currency typically has lower transaction costs and less uncertainty than trade between countries with sovereign currencies. Thus, simple cost minimization may result in a shift in demand away from goods produced outside of a currency union towards goods produced inside the union. The trade creation effect associated with currency unions, therefore, might come at the expense of trade with non-currency union members, pointing to the fact that currency unions may not necessarily increase aggregate welfare. Based on the empirical analysis, I find no evidence of trade diversion associated with currency unions. In fact, currency unions tend to increase trade both for members and nonmembers. I find, however, that the currency union effect may differ significantly between developed and developing countries, pointing to possible asymmetries in the benefits conferred by currency union membership.

Introduction In this paper, I examine the trade creation and diversion effects associated with entering or exiting a currency union. Specifically, I explore whether the near doubling of trade between countries entering a currency union, as found in Glick & Rose (2002), may be explained by an offsetting diversion of trade away from noncurrency union members. Trade between countries that use a single currency typically has lower transaction costs and less uncertainty than trade between countries with sovereign currencies. Thus, a simple process of cost minimization may result in a shift in demand away from goods produced outside of a currency union towards goods produced inside the union. The trade creation effect associated with currency unions, therefore, might come at the expense of trade with non-members, pointing to the fact that currency unions may harm aggregate welfare. This paper, therefore, builds on existing literature by (1) extending the analysis to examine both trade creation and diversion effects, (2) expanding the Glick & Rose (2002) sample to include three additional years of currency union entries and exits, and (3) disaggregating trade, allowing for asymmetric currency union effects on imports and exports. Based on my empirical analysis, I find no evidence of trade diversion associated with currency unions. In fact, currency unions tend to increase trade for both members and nonmembers, indicating that currency unions tend to increase aggregate welfare. In the paper, however, I find that the currency union effect may differ significantly between developed and developing countries, pointing to possible asymmetries, in the benefits conferred by currency union membership. These asymmetric benefits include the signaling of macroeconomic stability and enhanced monetary credibility, which disproportionately benefit developing countries in developed-developing country currency unions. Literature Review A currency unionâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s ability to increase bilateral trade flows has become a Wills Begor â&#x20AC;&#x2122;12 graduated from Dartmouth College with a major in economics modified with mathematics and a minor in Spanish. He is currently working as an investment banking analyst in the Mergers & Acquisitions Group at Morgan Stanley. This paper was written for Professor Andreas Moxnesâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; Topics in International Economics.

Wills Begor

hotly debated topic in the literature on international trade. The interest in the currency union effect largely originates with Rose (2000), which exploits a cross-country panel covering aggregate trade between 186 bilateral trade partners at five-year intervals between 1970 and 1990. Rose (2000) finds that members of a currency union tend to trade over three times as much as otherwise similar country pairs, after controlling for the traditional gravity model determinants of trade.1 Using a similar cross-country panel but extending the analysis to examine the effect of currency union membership on country income, Frankel and Rose (2002) find a similar tripling of trade among currency union members. A large body of literature, therefore, has emerged to explore this implausibly large currency union effect and to critique the approach adopted in Rose (2000). Thom and Walsh (2002), for example, argue that broad panel studies are irrelevant because most currency unions have historically had heterogeneous effects and have involved countries that are small and/or poor. Thom and Walsh (2002) and Nitsch (2002) adopt a case-study approach focusing on the 1979 dissolution of Ireland’s link to the British sterling and find a negligible effect on trade flows. Academics have also focused on the importance of relying on time-series rather than cross-sectional variation when examining the effect of a currency union on bilateral trade. The time-series approach has the advantage of addressing the relevant policy issue of “what happens to trade when a country pair enters or exits a currency union?” rather than “is trade between members of currency unions greater than trade between countries with sovereign currencies?” Utilizing time-series variation and country-pair fixed effects, Glick and Rose (2002) exploit a panel covering trade between 217 IMF trading partners between 1948 and 1997. Assuming symmetry between entries and exits, Glick and Rose (2002) find that a pair of countries that joins a currency union tends to experience a near doubling in bilateral trade relative to an otherwise similar country pair.2 Other studies have approached the issue of the currency union effect from different perspectives. Using data from the era of the gold standard, López-Córdova and Meissner (2003) find that countries in a monetary union tend to trade twice as much as do non-monetary union members. Micco, Stein, and Ordoñez (2003) examine the early effect of the European Monetary Union (EMU) on trade flows using a panel dataset from 1992 to 2002 and find that the EMU is associated with a 9-20% increase in trade among member countries, when compared to trade among non-EMU members. In order to examine the aggregate welfare effects of currency unions on international trade, however, it is important to examine both the potential trade creation and diversion effects associated with currency unions. This distinction originates with the study of preferential trade agreements (PTAs) in Viner (1950). Specifically, trade diversion occurs when members of a trade group reallocate trade away from lowcost nonmember countries towards higher-cost member countries. 3 This effect may 1

Rose (2000) conducts multiple robustness checks of his overall results and finds the statistical significance of his estimated parameters to be robust to choice of estimation technique, sample period, and choice of subsamples of countries 2 Before Glick and Rose (2002) controlled for country-pair fixed effects using time-series variation, Rose and van Wincoop (2001) used a structural model to address country-specific idiosyncrasies in bilateral trade patterns, reducing the effect of currency unions on trade to about two and a half 3 The use of the term “trade diversion” with regard to currency unions does not correspond exactly to the concept of trade diversion developed by Viner (1950). In the literature examining the effect of currency unions on trade, trade diversion is defined as a shift in demand of one or more countries in the currency union away from goods produced outside of the currency union towards goods produced in union countries. Unlike Viner (1950), the shift does not have to be away from the most efficient producers of the good in question and thus no distortion may be involved

Trade Diversion Effect

reduce aggregate welfare if the costs of trade diversion dominate the benefits of trade creation. While there is substantial evidence for trade diversion associated with PTAs,4 however, most empirical literature to date has failed to find evidence of trade diversion associated with currency unions.5 In fact, despite the theoretical basis for both trade creation and diversion associated with currency unions,6 only a few studies have found empirical evidence of this diversion effect.7 Prior literature, however, has searched for the currency union effect on aggregate trade, despite evidence of asymmetric currency union effects on imports and exports. Saiki (2005), for example, finds that the effect of a currency union differs substantially between imports and exports when a developing country is trading with a developed country. In the simplest model, a currency union confers on its members the benefits of both currency convertibility and monetary and exchange rate stability, reducing bilateral trade costs. If import and export elasticity functions differ, the impact of a currency union on imports and exports would be asymmetric. In fact, the disaggregation of trade into imports and exports has been used extensively in the study of preferential trade agreements (PTAs).8 Soloaga and Winters (1999), for example, modify the typical gravity equation to identify the separate diversion effects of PTAs on imports and exports. Moreover, according to Subramanian and Wei (2005), all theories that underlie the gravity model specification yield predictions on unidirectional trade (i.e. imports or exports) rather than total trade. Existing literature, therefore, has failed to examine the effect of currency unions on trade after disaggregating bilateral trade flows into import and exports. Methodology In order to explore the trade creation and diversion effects of currency unions on disaggregated trade, specifically on exports from country i to country j, I will use a gravity model specification similar to the model used in Glick & Rose (2002). Specifically, I will use a standard gravity model augmented with a set of additional controls: ln(Xijt) = β0 + β1ln(YiYj)t + β2ln(YiYj/PopiPopj)t + β3lnDij + β4Langij + β5Borderij + β6RTAijt + β7Landlij + β8Islandij + β9ln(AreaiAreaj) + β10ComColij + β11CurColijt + β12Colonyij + β13ComNatij + z1CUijt + z2Diversion1ijt + z3Diversion2ijt + εijt where i and j denote countries, t denotes time, and the variables are defined as: • Xijt is real exports from country i to j at time t,9 • Yi is real GDP of country i, • Popi is population of country i, • Dij is the great-circle distance between the capitals of countries i and j, • Langij is a binary variable that equals one if countries i and j share a common language, • Borderij is a binary variable that equals one if countries i and j share a land border, • RTAijt is a binary variable that equals one if countries i and j belong to the same regional trade agreement at time t, • Landlij is the number of landlocked countries in the country pair (0, 1, or 2), • Islandij is the number of island nations in the country pair (0, 1, or 2), 4

See Bayoumi and Eichengreen (1995), Frankel (1997), Yeats (1997), Frankel and Wei (1998), Sapir (2001), and Adams et al. (2003) 5 Frankel and Rose (2002), Frankel (2003), and Micco, Stein, and Ordoñez (2003) 6 Tolonen (1994) and Marchesiani and Senesi (2007) 7 Frankel and Wei (1995), Eichengreen and Irwin (1996), and Iqbal and Khan (1998) 8 Bayoumi and Eichengreen (1997), Frankel (1997) and Frankel and Wei (1998) 9 Bayoumi and Eichengreen (1997), Frankel (1997) and Frankel and Wei (1998)

Wills Begor

• Areai is the land mass of the country i, • ComColij is a binary variable that equals one if countries i and j were ever colonies after 1945 with the same colonizer, • CurColijt is a binary variable that equals one if countries i and j are in a colonial relationship at time t, • Colonyij is a binary variable that equals one if i ever colonized j or vice versa, • ComNatij is a binary variable that equals one if countries i and j were part of the same nation during the sample, • CUijt is a binary variable that equals one if countries i and j use the same currency at time t,10 • Diversion1ijt is a binary variable that equals one if country i is in a currency union but country j does not use the same currency as country i at time t,11 • Diversion2ijt is a binary variable that equals one if country j is in a currency union but country i does not use the same currency as country j at time t, The coefficients of interest are z1, z2, and z3, which are the trade creation and diversion effects associated with currency unions. Specifically, z1 indicates the marginal effect of entering a currency union on a country-pair’s bilateral trade. Based on existing literature, I expect z1 > 0, meaning that, holding all else constant, entering a currency union tends to increase bilateral trade among member countries. This increase in trade among currency union members can be explained by the fact that currency unions tend to reduce transaction costs, increase macroeconomic stability by signaling the central bank’s commitment to reduce inflation, enhance the credibility of the monetary authority, and reduce uncertainty. It is important to note, however, that z1, unlike z2 and z3, captures an average effect on imports and exports due to the bilateral structure of the dataset. z2 captures the export diversion effect associated with currency unions (the term diversion will be used whether or not the effect is positive or negative), meaning that if z2 < 0, countries entering a currency union tend to export less to non-currency union members relative to what the country pair would have exported if they hadn’t entered the currency union. On the other hand, z3 captures the import diversion effect associated with currency unions, meaning that if z3 < 0, countries entering a currency union tend to import less from non-currency union members relative to what they would have imported if they hadn’t entered the currency union. In this paper, I will estimate the above model using a number of regression techniques. I will follow the standard practice in existing literature and use ordinary least squares as a baseline regression, albeit with robust standard errors clustered on country pairs (since pairs of countries are likely to be highly dependent across years). The majority of regressions, however, will incorporate year and country-pair fixed effects, exploiting only the time-series dimension of the data centered on country-pair averages. It is important to note that this model differs from the Glick & Rose (2002) specification in two important ways: (1) the analysis is extended to examine both the trade creation and diversion effects of currency unions and (2) trade is disaggregated into exports from country i to country j, allowing for asymmetric currency union effects on imports and exports. 10

We use the definition of a currency union based on Glick and Rose (2002). A currency union means that money was interchangeable between the two countries at a 1:1 par for an extended period of time, so there was no need to convert prices. It is also important to point out that the definition of currency union is transitive; if country-pairs x-y and x-z are in currency unions, then y-z is a currency union 11 Country j is either not in a currency union or is in a different currency union than country i at time t

Trade Diversion Effect

Data Set Glick & Rose (2002) exploit the International Monetary Fund’s Direction of Trade (“IMF DoT”) dataset, which covers bilateral trade between 217 IMF trading partners between 1948 and 1997. An average value of bilateral trade between country pairs is then calculated by averaging the four possible bilateral trade measures, specifically exports from country i to country j, exports from j to i, imports from i to j, and imports from j to i. In this paper, I extend the Glick & Rose (2002) dataset by expanding the coverage to include an additional three years of currency union entries and exits from 1998-2000 and by disaggregating trade into exports from country i to country j. In particular, I use the Rose (2005) dataset, which exploits a similar IMF DoT dataset that covers bilateral trade between 178 trading entities between 1948 and 2000.12 As in Glick & Rose (2002), FOB exports and CIF imports are recorded in American dollars and are deflated using the American CPI. Real exports from country i to country j are then calculated by averaging exports from country i to country j and imports from country i to country j. Population and real GDP data are obtained from the Penn World Table whenever possible, and otherwise from the World Bank’s World Development Indicators or the IMF’s International Financial Statistics. Rose (2005) uses the CIA’s World Factbook for country-specific variables, including land area, landlocked status, island status, bordering countries, language, colonizers, and dates of independence. In order to make this dataset comparable to Glick & Rose (2002), I add the dummy variable for a strict or inferred currency union from the original Glick & Rose (2002) dataset and fill in missing data using Rose and Spiegel (2011). I then create two diversion dummies: (1) a dummy that equals one if country i is in a currency union and country j is either not in a currency union or is in a different currency union than country i and (2) a dummy that equals one if country j is in a currency union and country i is either not in a currency union or is in a different currency union than country j. In the dataset, just under 2% of the sample covers currency unions, which is slightly higher than Glick & Rose (2002).13 Moreover, as in Glick & Rose (2002), a number of currency unions are sufficiently integrated such that trade data are unavailable, which would tend to bias estimates of z1, z2, and z3 toward zero.14 Descriptive statistics of the dataset can be found in Table 1. As in Glick & Rose (2002), sample means for the key gravity regressors are broadly similar for currency unions and non-unions with the exception of the common language and colonial variables. Table 1 also tabulates descriptive statistics for countries that enter or leave a currency union during the sample, a subset of the currency union group. As expected, The Rose (2004) dataset is only includes 178 countries because it does not include the aggregated country groups: World (001), EFTA (011), Industrial Countries (110), Europe (170), SACU (198), Developing Countries (200), Non-Oil Developing Countries (201), Western Hemisphere (205), Middle East (405), Asia (505), Africa (605) British Countries in Europe (878), Industrial Oceania (889), Countries and Areas NS (898), Special Categories (899), Other Countries (910), European Union (998), and Oil Exporting Countries (999). Certain countries were also dropped because of missing export data: El Salvador (127), Western Hemisphere NS (399), West Bank and Gaza (487), Asia NS (598), Eritrea (643), French Africa NS (795), Africa NS (799), Europe NS (884), USSR NS (930), North Korea (954), Serbia & Montenegro (965), and USSR (974). 13 Rose (2005) uses the currency union dummy from Rose (2004), who uses the definition of Glick and Rose (2002) but supplements the original data with information from the annual copies of The Statesman’s Yearbook. This means that the Rose (2004) currency union variable is more comprehensive than the original Glick & Rose (2002) version 14 These include Andorra-Spain/France, Belgium-Luxembourg, Switzerland-Liechtenstein, France-Morocco, Italy-Vatican, and South Africa-Lesotho/Swaziland/Namibia 12

Wills Begor

country pairs entering or leaving a currency union tend to share characteristics with both currency unions and non-currency unions (i.e. their descriptive statistics lie between currency unions and non-currency unions) as they form the marginal members of the currency union group. Regression Results Glick & Rose (2002) Aggregate Benchmark I begin by using my dataset to reproduce the findings of Glick & Rose (2002). In particular, I modify my baseline regression specification such that the dependent variable is, as in much of the existing literature, average bilateral trade between country pairs. Table 2 shows the regression results. Column 1 reproduces the Glick & Rose (2002) sample period and empirical strategy by restricting the sample period to 1948-1997, omitting the diversion dummies, and introducing country-pair and year fixed effects. Based on this specification, z1 » 0.64, implying that trade between a country pair tends to double when the country pair joins a currency union (e.64 » 1.9). Glick & Rose (2002) find a similar result of z1 » 0.65, pointing to the fact that the dataset is sufficiently similar to the original Glick & Rose (2002) dataset to be used for comparison purposes. In fact, as seen in Column 2, using the full dataset (19482000) leaves z1 statistically unchanged. As seen in Column 3, z1 increases to 0.88 after diversion dummies are included in the regression, implying that trade between a country pair tends to increase by e.88 » 2.4x when a country pair joins a currency union, after controlling for trade diversion effects. In fact, based on this specification, there seem to exist ‘positive’ trade diversion effects with z2 » z3 » 0.24 (i.e. a country that enters a currency union tends to trade more with both currency union members and nonmembers). It is important to note that because the dependent variable is log bilateral trade, this specification, by design, forces ζ2 » ζ3, not allowing for asymmetric diversion effects. Moreover, because z2 » z3 > 0, it is not surprising that z1 increases after the inclusion of diversion dummies. By including diversion dummies, I remove from the comparison group those country pairs that are made up of one country in the currency union and one country outside of the currency union. Because z2 » z3 > 0, these country pairs tend to trade more relative to similar country pairs with no connection to a currency union. Thus, by removing these country pairs from the comparison group, I would expect z1 to increase and the interpretation of z1 to change slightly such that z1 > 0 implies that, holding all else equal, entering a currency union tends to increase bilateral trade among member countries relative to otherwise similar country pairs with no direct currency union connection. Overall, however, the new dataset seems to be sufficiently similar to the original dataset used by Glick & Rose (2002) for use in comparison purposes, with the added benefit of three years of additional currency union entries and exits. Baseline for Disaggregated Trade In this section, I utilize the baseline regression specification as defined in the methodology section, disaggregating trade into exports from country i to country j and thus allowing for asymmetric diversion effects associated with imports and exports. Table 3 reports the regression results. As seen in Column 1, I begin by estimating the gravity equation using conventional OLS with the addition of a full set of year-specific intercepts.15 The estimate of z1 implies that a pair of countries that joins a currency The gravity model is shown to work well on disaggregated trade, explaining almost sixty percent of the variation in exports from country i to country j. Moreover, the gravity coefficients are economically and statistically significant with sensible interpretations. As expected, for example, exports are declining in distance and country size, while exports increase with RGDP, RGDP per capita, common language, and shared border 15

Trade Diversion Effect

union tends to trade over e.88 » 2.4x more with one another, holding all else constant. Adding country-pair fixed effects (with no diversion dummies), the currency union effect in Column 2 falls to e.51 » 1.7x; however, after adding diversion dummies, the currency union effect increases to e.67 » 1.95x, which is in line with the Glick & Rose (2002) estimate. As aforementioned, because of the bilateral structure of the dataset, z1 actually captures an average effect on imports and exports, providing an estimate along the same lines as the currency union effect in existing literature. Above and beyond the econometric robustness, the fixed effects estimator also has an advantage in that it answers the policy question of interest: “what is the effect on trade of entering (or leaving) a currency union?” rather than “is trade between members of currency unions greater than trade between countries with sovereign currencies?” Column 3 takes this question a step further by measuring the trade creation and trade diversion effects associated with entering or leaving a currency union. In fact, Column 3 allows us to examine the trade diversion effect on a disaggregated basis. Specifically, z2 » 0.12 and z3 » 0.19, implying that countries that enter a currency union tend to export 12.7% more to and import 20.9% more from non-currency union members after joining the currency union, holding all else equal. Currency unions, therefore, seem to increase trade both for currency union members and non-members, thus suggesting that currency unions increase aggregate welfare. Sensitivity Analysis: Baseline for Disaggregated Trade In Table 4, I provide some sensitivity analysis by perturbing the baseline regression specification. In particular, in Column 1, I throw out all observations of trade between developed countries (countries with an IFS country code of under 200). As a result, I run the regression only on observations that include at least one developing country in the bilateral country pair (i.e. developing-developing and developing-developed trade). In Column 2, I run the regression on trade only between developed countries. In Column 3, I add quadratic terms for both output and output per capita. Finally, in Column 4, I exclude all country pairs where country i and country j are in a colonial relationship at time t. Overall, the results of Table 4 show that the trade creation effect associated with entering a currency union (z1) is reasonably insensitive to a certain number of perturbations of the methodology. The fixed effects estimates for the trade creation effect lie in a relatively narrow range of [0.30, 0.68] and are consistently positive. The sensitivity analysis, however, suggests that the currency union effect may differ between developed and developing countries, an asymmetry that I will examine in the next section of this paper. Table 4, however, also shows that the trade diversion effects associated with a currency union are ambiguous/at times statistically insignificant from zero. There is, however, no evidence of negative trade diversion (z1 < 0 or z1 < 0), pointing to the fact that currency unions tend to increase aggregate welfare. In Table 5, I sensitize the baseline regression specification by restricting the sample period. Glick & Rose (2002) only report a single robustness test based on year sensitivities. I show, however, that the currency union effect may be variable over time. Table 5 reports the currency union coefficients based on subsets of the sample period. The odd columns report the baseline regression specification estimates from subsets of the sample period before a certain cutoff year, and the even columns report the results from the same regressions but on a balanced panel. As seen in Table 5, the trade creation and diversion estimates appear to decrease as the sample period is restricted. Some of this variation, however, may be due to the fact that the highly restricted sample periods have few instances of currency union entries and exits. Based on the year robustness, however, we see that the trade creation and diversion effects

Wills Begor

remain positive or statistically indifferent from zero (except for the 1948-1960 subset of the sample period where the variation is derived from only a few entries and exits). This once again points to the fact that currency unions tend to increase aggregate welfare for both members and nonmembers of the currency union. Asymmetric Currency Union Effect Finally, in Table 6, I examine exports between developed and developing countries in order to analyze a possible source of asymmetry in the currency union’s effect. This empirical analysis offers an extension of Saiki (2005), who examined the effect of a currency union on trade balance and found that the currency union effect differs substantially between imports and exports when a developing country trades with a developed country. Saiki (2005), however, only examined this asymmetric currency union effect using the United States’ and France’s exports to and imports from developing countries from 1980 to 1997. According to Saiki (2005), the relative elasticity of demand and supply is the main source of this asymmetric currency union effect. Suppose, for example, that a small developing country, Eritrea, is trading with a large developed country, France. According to theory, exports are generally priced in the exporter’s domestic currency, meaning that exports from Eritrea to France would theoretically be priced in Nakfa (Eritrea’s domestic currency). When Eritrea exports to France, however, there are typically several other developing countries selling homogeneous products (e.g. agriculture) to France. France’s elasticity of demand, therefore, will be high relative to Eritrea’s elasticity of supply because of the high substitutability of Eritrea’s exports. Based on this, the exchange rate uncertainty cost will tend to be borne by Eritrea by denominating the trade invoice in Euros (France’s domestic currency). In fact, Bacchetta and van Wincoop (2002) have shown that country size and the degree of differentiation of products play an important role in determining the invoicing currency.16 As a result, we would expect that the currency union effect on exports to be greater for developing countries than for developed countries. In Table 6, I examine this asymmetric currency union effect. It is important to note that unlike regressions in the previous section, z1 is interpreted as the change in exports from country i to country j as a result of the country pair entering a currency union. As seen in Table 4, the trade creation effect (z1) for developing countries (found in Column 2) is significantly greater than the trade creation effect for developed countries (found in Column 1). In fact, when a developing country joins a currency union with a developed country, exports from the developing country tend to increase e.95 » 2.6x, while exports from the developed country tend to only increase e.39 » 1.5x. This can be explained by the fact that when a developing country exports to a developed country, the developing country has the additional benefit that by exporting to a country that uses its same domestic currency it avoids the cost of exchange rate uncertainty (a cost that is never borne, inside or outside of a currency union, by the developed country). Table 6 also provides interesting insight into the currency union diversion effect for developed-developing country pairs. When a developed country enters into a currency union with a developing country, exports from the developed country to other developing countries (not in the currency union) are statistically unchanged (e.g. z2 in Column 1 and z3 in Column 2 are close to, if not insignificantly different than, zero). This can be explained by the fact that when a developed country exports to a developing country, whether the developing country shares the same currency is not a major According to Saiki (2005), the actual invoicing practice confirms this argument as trade between developed and developing countries is generally invoiced in the industrial country’s currency 16

Trade Diversion Effect

concern because trade is already denominated in the developed country’s domestic currency. On the other hand, when a developing country enters into a currency union with a developed country, exports increase both to currency union members and nonmembers. This positive diversion effect may be explained by the fact that the currency union provides macroeconomic stability by signaling the central bank’s commitment to reduce inflation and enhanced credibility of the monetary authority, especially in the case of developing countries. This would tend to make the developing country a better trading partner for both currency union members and non-members. Overall, the evidence, therefore, seems to indicate that while currency unions are aggregate welfare improving, the currency union effect may be asymmetric among developed and developing countries. Empirical Limitations There are some important limitations, similar to those addressed in Glick & Rose (2002), associated with my results. First off, since most of the currency unions involved in my sample are either small and/or poor, the near doubling of trade among currency union members and the up to 30% increase in trade with nonmembers that I find in my empirical analysis are most likely not applicable to large currency unions between developed countries such as the European Monetary Union (EMU). My research attempts to partially address this key limitation in Glick & Rose (2002) by extending the sample period by three years to include 1998-2000. The Euro, however, was only introduced into world financial markets as an accounting currency on January 1, 1999, meaning that more research should be done to focus on that implementation period. Another possible limitation with my empirical results may arise because I treat currency unions as exogenous with respect to trade. If this assumption is false, some of the apparently large trade creating effects of currency unions may be explained by reverse causality: an increase in trade between a country pair tends to cause a pair of countries to enter into a currency union. Rose and van Wincoop (2001), however, argue that “reverse causality does not explain away the findings [that currency unions affect trade]; there is little evidence in the political science literature that countries join currency unions to increase trade, and instrumental variables only increase the impact of currency unions on trade.” Further research should focusing on finding an appropriate instrument to further test this assumption. Finally, similar to Glick & Rose (2002), I am forced to treat entries and exits from currency unions symmetrically, as the sample period includes predominantly currency union exits. Because of the fact that the prevalence of entries into currency unions increases significantly in the second half of the sample, however, by extending the dataset by an additional three years (1998 to 2000), my empirical analysis provides a more balanced sample of currency union entries and exits than the original Glick & Rose (2002) dataset. In particular, 43% of the 422 currency union entries and exits in my extended sample are currency union entries, while only 17% of the 219 entries and exits in the Glick & Rose (2002) subsample consist of entries into currency unions. Conclusion In this paper, I used a large panel dataset in order to extend the empirical analysis first performed by Glick & Rose (2002) to examine the effect of entering or exiting a currency union on bilateral trade flows. In particular, I (1) extend the analysis to examine both trade creation and diversion effects associated with currency unions, (2) expand the Glick & Rose (2002) sample to include three additional years of currency union entries and exits, and (3) disaggregate trade into exports from country

Wills Begor

i to country j, allowing for asymmetric currency union effects. Based on this analysis, I find that a pair of countries that joins a currency union tends to experience a near doubling of bilateral trade. Moreover, there is no evidence of trade diversion, with trade also tending to increase by up to 30% with non-currency union members. Overall, I find that currency unions tend to increase aggregate welfare even though there is some evidence of asymmetry in the positive currency union effect for developed and developing countries. These results are economically large, statistically significant, and relatively insensitive to a number of perturbations of the regression methodology.

Trade Diversion Effect

Wills Begor

Trade Diversion Effect

Wills Begor

Trade Diversion Effect

Wills Begor

Works Cited Adams, R., P. Dee, J. Gali, and G. McGuire. “The trade and investment effects of preferential trading arrangements - old and new evidence.” Australia Productivity Commission, Staff Working Paper. 2003. Bacchetta, Philippe and Eric van Wincoop. “A Theory of the Currency Denomination of International Trade.’’ NBER Working Paper No. 9039. 2002. Bayoumi, Tamim and Barry Eichengreen. “Is regionalism simply a diversion? Evidence from the evolution of the EC and EFTA,” Center for Economic and Policy Research. Discussion Paper No. 1294. 1995. Eichengreen, Barry and Douglas Irwin. “The role of history in bilateral trade flows.” National Bureau of Economic Research. Working Paper No. 5565. 1996. Frankel, Jeffrey. “Is Japan Creating a Yen Bloc in East Asia and the Pacific?” National Bureau of Economic Research. 1992. Frankel, Jeffrey and Shang-Jin Wei. “European integration and the regionalization of world trade and currencies: the economics and the politics.” Center for International and Development Economics Research. Working Paper C95-053. 1995. Frankel, Jeffrey. Regional Trading Blocs, Institute for International Economics, Washington, D.C. 1997. Frankel, Jeffry, and Shang-Jin Wei. “Regionalization of world trade and currencies: economics and politics.” The Regionalization of the World Economy. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. 1998. Frankel, Jeffrey and Andrew Rose. “An estimate of the effect of currency unions on trade and output.” Quarterly Journal of Economics, Vol. CXVII, No. 2: pp. 437-466. 2002. Frankel, Jeffrey. “The UK decision re EMU: Implications of currency blocs for trade and business cycle correlations.” Submissions on EMU from leading academics, ed. Her Majesty’s Treasury, pp. 93– 105. 2003 Glick, Reuven and Andrew Rose. “Does a currency union affect trade? The time series evidence.” European Economic Review, Vol. 46, No. 6: pp. 1125-1151. 2002. Iqbal, Zubair and Mohsin Khan. “Trade reform and regional integration in Africa.” International Monetary Fund. 1998. López-Córdova, J. Ernesto and Chris Meissner. “Exchange-rate regimes and international trade: Evidence from the classical gold standard era.” American Economic Review, Vol. 93, No. 1: pp. 344-353. 2003. Marchesiani, Alessandro and Pietro Senesi. “Monetary union enlargement and international trade.” Brazilian Journal of Business Economics, Vol. 11: pp. 1-12. 2007. Micco, Alejandro, Ernesto Stein, Guillermo Ordoñez. “The currency union effect on trade: early evidence from EMU.” Economic Policy: pp. 316-356. 2003. Nitsch, Volker. “Honey, I Shrunk the Currency Union Effect on Trade.” World Economy, Vol. 25, No. 4: pp. 457-474. 2002.

Trade Diversion Effect

Rose, Andrew. “One money one market: estimating the effect of common currencies on trade.” Economic Policy, Vol. 15: pp. 7-46. 2000. Rose, Andrew and Eric van Wincoop. “National money as a barrier to trade: The real case for monetary union.” American Economic Review, Vol. 91, No. 2: pp. 386-390. 2001. Rose, Andrew. “Do We Really Know that the WTO Increases Trade?” The American Economic Review, Vol. 94, No. 1: pp. 98-114. 2004. Rose, Andrew. “Does The WTO Make Trade More Stable?” Open Economies Review, Vol. 16: pp. 7-22. 2005. Rose, Andrew and Mark Spiegel. “The Olympic Effect.” The Economic Journal, Vol. 121: pp. 652–677. 2011. Saiki, Ayako. “Asymmetric Effect of Currency Union for Developing Countries.” Open Economies Review, Vol. 16: pp. 227-247. 2005. Sapir, Andre. “Domino effects in western European trade, 1960-1992” European Journal of Political Economy, Vol. 2: pp. 377-388. 2001. Subramanian, Arvind and Shang-Jin Wei. “The WTO promotes trade, strongly but unevenly.” Center for Economic Research, Discussion Paper No. 5122. 2005. Thom, Rodney and Brendan Walsh. “The effect of a common currency on trade: Ireland before and after the sterling link.” European Economic Review, Vol. 46, No. 6: pp. 1111-1124. 2002. Tolonen, Yrjana. “Trade diversion in a currency union.” Open Economies Review, Vol. 5: pp. 23-27. 1994. Viner, Jacob. The Customs Union Issue, Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, New York. 1950. Yeats, Alexander. “Does MERCOSUR’s trade performance raise concerns about the effects of regional trade arrangements?” World Bank, Working Paper No. 1729. 1997.

China-Africa Relations: Implications for African Development Michelle Lee This paper aims to explore China and Africa’s relationship and related economic, political, and developmental aspects, as well as the implications of China’s increasing presence on the African continent. Critiques of Chinese activities in Africa, especially those centered on unequal benefits from resource extraction, political repercussions of unconditional aid, and human rights abuses are legitimate, but they are not the whole story. China also supplies much-needed infrastructure and invests valuable capital in developing African countries. Thus, this paper argues that the expansion of Sino-African relations has been mutually beneficial. The groundwork for this argument will be laid through an explanation of China’s general goals and attitudes towards Africa and an examination of China’s role as an investor, trader, and donor in Africa. Next, the paper will explore the nature of Chinese presence on the African continent, including rising levels of trade, social interactions, and investment. Analyses of economic and political implications (both positive and negative) will follow, while two country case studies of Sudan and Zambia will further characterize Chinese activity in Africa. The paper concludes that the relationship between China and Africa is not perfect, but that it holds much potential for the mutual economic development of both countries, as well as the expansion of future relations.

China’s presence on the African continent has become increasingly visible in recent years. In 2006, Chinese and African leaders gathered at the third summit of the Forum on China‐Africa Cooperation (FOCAC) in Beijing, the largest discussion of Chinese‐African relations in history, while there are Chinese embassies in 38 of the 48 sub- Saharan African countries.1 Increasing interactions have mostly taken the form of trade and investment; in fact, China is now Africa’s third most important trading partner.2 The negative reactions of the United States and other western countries towards developing Sino-African relations have been noticeable. An article headline in the Guardian in February 2011 read, “China’s Economic Invasion of Africa,” while recently published books regarding Chinese‐African relations feature fearmongering titles such as China: The Gathering Threat3 and Hegemon: China’s Plan to Dominate Asia and the World.4 Western media’s biased portrayal of China’s relationship with Africa has “set the stage for a misunderstanding that holds disturbing potential.”5 In the midst of such unconstructive and potentially harmful portrayals of Chinese‐African relations, a reexamination of China’s activity in Africa is critical. As Large urges, we must “deepen and broaden analysis” of this emerging relationship beyond current “media driven 1

Robert I. Rotberg, “China’s Quest for Resources, Opportunities, and Influence in Africa.” China into Africa: Trade Aid and Influence, (Washington D.C.: Brookings Institution Press.2008), 3. 2 Ian Taylor, “Governance in Africa and Sino‐African Relations: Contradictions or Confluence?” Politics 27 (2007): 139. 3 Constantine Christopher Menges. China: The Gathering Threat. (Nashville, Tennessee: Nelson Current, 2005). 4 Steven W. Mosher, Hegemon: China’s Plan to Dominate Asia and the World. (San Francisco: Encounter Books, 2000). 5 Chris Alden. China in Africa. (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2007), 5. Michelle Lee ‘13 is a Geography major and Chinese minor from Chicago, Illinois. Her academic interests revolve around the intersection of business and international development, particularly in regions of subSaharan Africa. She is writing her senior thesis on Chinese migrants to Ghana and their entrepreneurial ventures in the restaurant industry. This paper was written for Professor Horowitz’s Politics of Africa class.

China-Africa Relations

preoccupations with a ‘Chinese Scramble.’”6 In the coming decades, relations between China and Africa hold the potential to become more mutually beneficial. China’s interactions with Africa are colored by vastly different policies and attitudes than the United States. As is evident in western media and reports, western developed countries have a history of viewing the general African continent as primitive, a “haven for terrorists,” the “cradle of HIV/AIDS diseases,” and a “source of instability.”7 Where the United States and other countries may see underdevelopment and poverty, China sees opportunity. A website benefiting Chinese entrepreneurs called Africa‐invest.net calls Africa “a multilayered, unexplored market with great potential.”8 China interacts with and invests in African businesses and industries guided by such optimism, while the western world treats African countries as “second‐tier partners.”9 China’s more positive mindset (perhaps due to its similar position as a developing country) leads Chinese companies and businesspeople to perceive Africa as a continent of consumers, not aid recipients. This “lends [Africans] a degree of economic agency that was absent previously.”10 Many African peoples appreciate the Chinese method of doing business. In his research, Taylor found that in general, people in Africa viewed Beijing as a preferential trade partner to the United States due to convergence in viewpoints on national priorities and foreign policy.11 Many African leaders have expressed interest in increased Chinese presence on the continent and have made attempts “to court China’s presence and attention.”12 While it is likely that many African leaders enjoy Chinese involvement in Africa’s economic sphere because China’s aid and investment comes without conditions and complications, China’s actions on the continent spur infrastructure development and therefore sustained economic development. China builds and provides roads, railways, and hospitals in return for resources, and many scholars have pointed out that China’s position “stands in sharp contrast to the [West’s] neoliberal doctrine that has… served Africa so badly.”13 China needs Africa to obtain raw materials necessary for its economic growth,14 and Africa needs China’s investments and aid for economic development. Thus, as Rotberg states, “China and Africa desperately need each other.”15 However, Chinese connections to Africa are not new; Broadman points out that Chinese investments in Africa began at the start of the postcolonial era.16 China has always shown an interest in Africa and is not a new player “scrambling” for resources on the continent, as is often portrayed. The current extent to which China is investing and interacting with African countries, however, is both quite impressive and unprecedented.17 6

Daniel Large, “‘Chinese Scramble’ The Politics of Contemporary China‐Africa relations.” African Affairs 106 (2006): 141. 7 Xuewu Gu, “China Returns to Africa.” Trends East Asia 9 (2005): 3. 8 Ibid. 9 Rotberg “China’s Quest for Resources, Opportunities, and Influence in Africa”, 2. 10 Stephanie Rupp, “Africa and China: Engaging Postcolonial Interdependencies” in China into Africa: Trade Aid and Influence, ed. Robert I. Rotberg. (Washington D.C.: Brookings Institution Press, 2008), 70. 11 Taylor, “Governance in Africa and Sino-African Relations: Contradictions or Confluence?” 139. 12 Ibid. 13 Emma Mawdsley, “Fu Manchu Versus Dr Livingstone in the Dark Continent? Representing China, Africa and the West in British broadsheet newspapers.” Political Geography 27 (2008): 524. 14 Taylor, “Governance in Africa and Sino-African Relations: Contradictions or Confluence?” 139. 15 Rotberg, “China’s Quest for Resources, Opportunities, and Influence in Africa,” 1. 16 Harry G. Broadman, “Chinese‐African Trade and Investment: The Vanguard of South‐South Commerce in the Twenty‐First Century” in China into Africa: Trade Aid and Influence, edited by Robert I. Rotberg, (Washington D.C.: Brookings Institutions Press: 2008), 87. 17 Ibid.

Michelle Lee

After the 2006 FOCAC summit in Beijing, African and Chinese leaders determined that it would be mutually beneficial to implement a three‐year plan to stimulate more cooperation and advance their partnerships in the future. Evidence of this expansion in Sino-African relations is seen in the wide range of connections between China and the continent. China interacts with African countries in many capacities — encouraging trade, making foreign direct investments (FDI) in oil extraction and trade, and providing infrastructure — all of which emphasize China’s diverse roles and objectives on the continent. The increase in trade between China and Africa has reached unprecedented levels in recent years; Rotberg states that China‐Africa total trade volumes are growing at 50% every year.18 China is currently Africa’s third largest trading partner, but Rotberg predicts that total trade between China and Africa will soon surpass trade volumes between Europe and Africa and even exceed U.S.‐Africa trade totals.19 South Africa, Nigeria, Sudan, and Angola are “focus” countries, comprising more than three‐quarters of China‐Africa trade interactions.20 China’s FDI in Africa are less substantial than trade between the two economic partners, but FDI are becoming prevalent, especially in oil-producing countries.21 FDI in oil is one of China’s main goals in Africa. In fact, Angola, Equatorial Guinea, Nigeria, and Congo account for 85% of China’s imports from African countries; these countries are all oil producers, Angola being the biggest exporter of oil to China.22 Though it is not the only resource in which China invests and imports from Africa, oil is clearly a major source of China’s interest in Africa and a key reason for its presence on the continent. China imports one‐third of its total oil supply from Africa, mostly from Sudan and Angola.23 These statistics seem to support claims that China is ravaging the African continent for raw resources such as oil. Although China visibly focuses on oil‐producing countries such as Angola and Sudan, it also provides physical infrastructure vital for development in exchange for oil extraction. Examples include the construction of a hydroelectric dam in Sudan and the implementation of road projects and improvement of transportation networks in Angola. Rebol states that oil contracts between oil‐producing African states and China provide Africa with “what it needs,” such as critical capital that funds investment in other economic sectors, the creation of jobs, and ultimately economic growth.24 China strives to invest in long term, sustainable development of Africa. Instead of “throwing” aid money at African governments, Rotberg states that China is “expanding Africa’s permanent capacity” in many ways.25 Infrastructure projects have important, positive implications for the economic and social development of African countries. For example, in addition to previously mentioned projects, China has also built railways, highways, and roads in various African countries that lack adequate transportation infrastructure. This type of construction plays a vital role in achieving “regional economic integration,” as intrastate and interstate roads and railways provide efficient methods of transporting goods.26 Rotberg specifically mentions China’s construction of the Tanzam and Benguela rail lines as essential investments in Africa’s infrastructure. Former Tanzanian president Julius Nyerere’s special relationship with China led to the 18

Rotberg, “China’s Quest for Resources, Opportunities, and Influence in Africa,” 3. Ibid., 6. 20 Ibid. 21 Broadman, “Chinese-African Trade and Investment,” 87. 22 Rotberg, “China’s Quest for Resources, Opportunities, and Influence in Africa,” 6. 23 Meine Pieter Van Dijk, “The Political Impact of the Chinese in Sudan.” in The New Presence of China in Africa, ed. Meine Pieter van Dijk, (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press: 2009), 144. 24 Max Rebol, “Public Perceptions and Reactions: Gauging African Views of China in Africa.” African Journal of Agricultural Research 5(25) (2010): 3526. 25 Rotberg, “China’s Quest for Resources, Opportunities, and Influence in Africa,” 1. 26 Ibid., 7. 19

China-Africa Relations

construction of the Tanzam railway that runs between Dar es Salaam, Tanzania and Kapiri Mposhi, Zambia. This 1,860‐kilometer railway is one of China’s largest aid projects.27 Most importantly, the construction of the railway was only possible with China’s funding; Nyerere and former Zambian president Kenneth Kaunda’s funding requests were rejected by both the United States and Britain.28 African leaders and citizens alike have applauded China’s quick and uncomplicated implementation of aid projects; China builds desperately needed infrastructure efficiently. African elites appreciate the “lack of planning meetings… and bureaucratic hurdles that typify projects sponsored by the West.”29 African leaders perceive China’s lack of demands concerning conditions and requirements for loans, aid, and trade positively, in contrast to the restrictions of Western aid donors. China has a long‐time policy of noninterference and believes that countries should not intervene in the internal matters of others.30 Implications of this foreign policy approach will be further discussed in the case of Sudan in a later section. The economic implications from Chinese interactions in Africa have been explained above, but political implications must also be considered. Economic impacts of Chinese activity in Africa are mostly positive; trade with and investment from China have resulted in net economic growth in many African countries. However, there are also many accompanying political effects that are harmful to the development of African countries. China’s unconditional economic and political support can reinforce neopatrimonialism, which still runs rampant among many African elite. Chinese aid projects augment government corruption through the provision of funds and projects that allow corrupt African leaders to preserve their own power. For example, political elites “leverage on the improvement of infrastructure, taking political credit for having negotiate important deals with the Chinese state.”31 China’s “easy aid” and investment helps legitimize the persisting, detrimental neopatrimonialism; leaders are able to provide “spoils” in the form of infrastructure projects in return for political support and authority. The above characteristics of China‐Africa relations with regard to trade, FDI, and infrastructure can be seen in many African countries across sub‐Saharan Africa. However, these developments are more visible in some countries than others, so it is necessary to look to individual country case studies to “gain a better understanding of how China is perceived in different parts of Africa.”32 This paper looks to Sudan and Zambia as two short case studies that emphasize the general trends seen across sub‐ Saharan Africa as a result of increased Sino‐African relations, as well as highlight a few trends that are unique to each of the two countries. Due to China’s increasing demand for oil over the past few decades, Sudan is a focal point of China’s investments and interactions on the continent. Cooperation between the two countries began in 1959, when Sudan first recognized the People’s Republic of China. Van Dijk states that China’s economic activity began in Sudan “even before any energy shortage hit the country.”33 China’s long‐term involvement in Sudan has resulted in many “attractive trade agreements.”34 Most of these trade agreements revolved around oil, as oil is a very influential factor in Sudanese politics. According to Fortune, China 27

Martyn J. Davies, “Special Economic Zones: China’s Developmental Model Comes to Africa.” in China into Africa: Trade Aid and Influence, ed. Robert I. Rotberg, (Washington D.C.: Brookings Institutions Press: 2008), 146. 28 Ibid., 147. 29 Stephanie, Rupp. “Africa and China: Engaging Postcolonial Interdependencies” in China into Africa: Trade Aid and Influence, edited by Robert I. Rotberg, 65-86. (Washington D.C.: Brookings Institution Press: 2008), 75. 30 Taylor, “Governance in Africa and Sino-African Relations: Contradictions or Confluence?” 140. 31 Rupp, “Africa and China: Engaging Postcolonial Interdependencies,” 75. 32 Rebol, “Public Perceptions and Reactions: Gauging African Views of China in Africa,” 3526. 33 Van Dijk, “The Political Impact of the Chinese in Sudan,” 142. 34 Ibid.

Michelle Lee

is Sudan’ largest investor, pumping $4 billion per year into the developing country.35 Sudan exemplifies the positives and negatives of an economic and political relationship with China. In terms of beneficial effects, China’s sustained oil importation from Sudan “rescued Sudan from dire financial straits” in the early 90s.36 In addition, China’s continued oil deals with Sudan funded infrastructure projects, such as the previously mentioned hydroelectric dam. However, China’s policies and lack of investment restrictions also helped fund bloody conflict in Sudan. China has received much criticism from western countries, as it allegedly indirectly fueled the conflict in Darfur by providing arms in exchange for Sudanese oil. In fact, United Nations investigators found that most of the confiscated small arms in the Darfur conflict were manufactured in China “despite an arms ban within the region.”37 China’s non‐compliance with international standards regarding conditional aid and assistance has been highly controversial. The international community also blames China for not taking action to halt the violence in the Darfur region, despite its heavy economic and potentially political influence in the country. China’s non‐interventionist foreign policy meant that it rejected sanctions against Sudan, using its powerful position on the UN Security Council to veto them.38 China also failed to act in the face of the humanitarian crisis in Darfur because negative, assertive interactions with the Sudanese government would negatively impact Chinese business interests in Sudan.39 Mass protests against China’s role in Sudan suggest that China must alter its controversial courses of action in Sudan and other African countries to gain the approval and support of international governing bodies and IGO member countries. A case study of Chinese‐Zambian relations highlights both the positive and negative aspects of Chinese aid and investment as well. Zambia’s economy is heavily mineral‐ based, as it is one of the dominant copper‐producing countries in the world. While mining plays a vital role in Zambia’s economic industry, Zambia is still in need of vast investments to develop its resource industry and diversify its economy40 - the kind of assistance that China can provide. China is exploring potential investments in Zambia’ mineral resources, as China’s economic growth is dependent on accessing raw materials. The critical issue concerning Chinese‐Zambian relations is “whether Zambia’ need for investment and China’s need for raw materials can work… to bring about economic development and alleviate poverty in both countries.”41 The outcome of Chinese‐Zambian interactions is not dependent on China’s actions and policies alone; it is conditional on the Zambian government’s decisions and strategies for development. The advancement of a relationship between China and Zambia offers potential for growth and development in both countries. One major development issue in Zambia is lack of consistent energy and frequent power outages; external capital investment in the energy sector is key for the maintenance of economic growth. Zambia currently receives fewer foreign investments than most other southern African countries, resulting in a continuing capital scarcity.42 There are other benefits of China‐Zambia cooperation, including the export of Zambian products into Chinese markets. Furthermore, China has dismissed Zambia’s debt. At the social and educational level, China has funded scholarships and financial assistance for agricultural training and other education.43 In 35

Ibid., 144. Ibid. 37 Taylor, “Governance in Africa and Sino-African Relations: Contradictions or Confluence?” 143. 38 Van Dijk, “The Political Impact of the Chinese in Sudan,” 147. 39 Taylor, “Governance in Africa and Sino-African Relations: Contradictions or Confluence?” 143. 40 Muna Ndulo, “Chinese Investments in Africa: A Case Study of Zambia” in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon? ed. Kweku Ampiah and Sanusha Naidu (Scottsville, South Africa: University of KwaZulu-Natal Press: 2008), 140. 41 Ibid, 141. 42 Ibid. 43 Ibid., 143. 36

China-Africa Relations

these ways and more, Ndulo states that Chinese investment in Zambia is perceived as being “positive and welcome.”44 Along with these beneficial interactions, there are tensions surrounding the ZambiaChina relationship, especially regarding Chinese roles in the mineral industry. There are concerns that China’s dominant role and unconditional investments in the copper-mining industry could further encourage corruption and patrimonialism. China’s “willingness to spend whatever it needs in Africa without regard to fiscal prudence, democracy, honest business practices, and human rights” could ultimately leave the country poorer in some ways than it was before Chinese intervention.45 In addition, a controversial mining accident in 2006 at the Chinese‐owned Chambishi mine, which killed 46 miners, raised concerns among international actors about China’s unsatisfactory labor safety standards and worker treatment. While Chinese mineral extraction brings wealth to Zambia (especially its elites), it is essential that both Chinese and Zambian governments establish effective developmental frameworks in which sustained, widely beneficial growth can occur. Ndulo suggests that the Zambian government should direct Chinese investment to areas of “education, technology, science, energy and infrastructure.”46 China and Zambia need each other for economic development; as their relationship develops and certain standards are established, there is potential for mutually beneficial cooperation. There is further evidence that China must alter its actions and policies in African countries to order to maintain positive relations, especially with local people. It is clear that African elites favor Chinese investment and aid, for it helps legitimize their otherwise illegitimate power. Both the common people and elites benefit from the infrastructure projects that China provides. However, there are certain situations in which China is seen as a negative actor and influence in some areas. For example, while China makes necessities cheaper and accessible, other Chinese goods can crowd out local sectors, as has occurred in the leather and textile industries.47 In addition, while new infrastructure projects can provide jobs for local people, it is not uncommon to hear complaints that China does not hire enough local workers. For example, the upgrade of an oil factory near Khartoum created jobs, but over a third of the hired workforce was Chinese.48 Chinese investment in oil has provided economic and infrastructural benefits, but heavy investment in resource sectors has also made it difficult for African countries to diversify their economies.49 These case studies emphasize that Sino‐African relations currently have both positive and negative aspects. China has contributed enormous amounts of aid and investment to help promote the economic development of the continent, yet China and Africa’s relationship is not perfect. There is much China can do to improve and advance its interests in Africa in a constructive manner while avoiding negative political effects, such as sustaining corrupt governments and fueling human rights abuses. Whether China will make changes to its long‐time foreign policy of non‐intervention is an unanswerable question. While criticisms of China’s policies towards Africa should be heeded, “crafting China as the new threat in Africa makes very little sense”;50 more consideration and optimism should be given to the potential for China and Africa to develop a mutually beneficial relationship. As one Ghanaian scholar on Chinese‐African relations states, “shaping of these relations will evolve with time and it will be foolhardy to think that these relations will be smooth all the time.51 44

Ibid. Ibid., 144. 46 Ibid., 148. 47 Rupp, “Africa and China: Engaging Postcolonial Interdependencies,” 70. 48 Rebol, “Public Perceptions and Reactions: Gauging African Views of China in Africa,” 3530. 49 Ibid., 3527. 50 Taylor, “Governance in Africa and Sino-African Relations: Contradictions or Confluence?” 145. 51 Kwesi Kwaa, Prah. “China and Africa: Defining a Relationship,” Society for International Development 50(3) (2007): 74. 45

Michelle Lee

Works Cited Alden, Chris. China in Africa. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2007. Broadman, Harry G. “Chinese‐African Trade and Investment: The Vanguard of South‐ South Commerce in the Twenty‐First Century.” In China into Africa: Trade Aid and Influence, edited by Robert I. Rotberg, 87-108. Washington D.C.: Brookings Institutions Press, 2008. Davies, Martyn J. 2008. “Special Economic Zones: China’s Developmental Model Comes to Africa.” In China into Africa: Trade Aid and Influence, edited by Robert I. Rotberg, 137‐154. Washington D.C.: Brookings Institutions Press, 2008. Gu, Xuewu. “China Returns to Africa.” Trends East Asia 9 (2005): 1‐20. Large, Daniel. “‘Chinese Scramble:’ The Politics of Contemporary China‐Africa relations.” African Affairs 106 (2006): 141‐143. Lee, Henry and Dan Shalmon. “Searching for Oil: China’s Oil Strategies in Africa.” In China into Africa: Trade Aid and Influence, edited by Robert I. Rotberg, 109-136. Washington D.C.: Brookings Institution Press, 2008. Mawdsley, Emma. “Fu Manchu Versus Dr Livingstone in the Dark Continent? Representing China, Africa and the West in British broadsheet newspapers.” Political Geography 27 (2008): 509‐529. Menges, Constantine Christopher. China: The Gathering Threat. Nashville, Tennessee: Nelson Current, 2005. Mosher, Steven W. Hegemon: China’s Plan to Dominate Asia and the World. San Francisco: Encounter Books, 2000. Ndulo, Muna. “Chinese Investments in Africa: A Case Study of Zambia” In Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon? edited by Kweku Ampiah and Sanusha Naidu, 138‐151. Scottsville, South Africa: University of KwaZulu‐Natal Press, 2008. Prah, Kwesi Kwaa.“China and Africa: Defining a Relationship.” Society for International Development 50, no. 3 (2007): 69‐75. Rebol, Max.“Public Perceptions and Reactions: Gauging African Views of China In Africa.” African Journal of Agricultural Research 5, no. 25 (2010): 3524‐3535. Rotberg, Robert I. “China’s Quest for Resources, Opportunities, and Influence in Africa.” In China into Africa: Trade Aid and Influence, edited by Robert I. Rotberg, 1‐20. Washington D.C.: Brookings Institution Press, 2008. Rupp, Stephanie. Africa and China: Engaging Postcolonial Interdependencies.” In China into Africa: Trade Aid and Influence, edited by Robert I. Rotberg, 65‐86. Washington D.C.: Brookings Institution Press, 2008. Taylor, Ian. “Governance in Africa and Sino‐African Relations: Contradictions or Confluence?” Politics 27 no. 3 (2007): 139‐146. Van Dijk, Meine Pieter. “The Political Impact of the Chinese in Sudan.” In The New Presence of China in Africa, edited by Meine Pieter van Dijk, 141‐156. Amsterdam, Netherlands: Amsterdam University Press, 2009.

Institutionalizing Women’s Rights: An Interview With Lisa Baldez Conducted by Justin Maffett and Marina Villeneuve, World Outlook Staff Lisa Baldez is an associate professor of government and Latin American, Latino and Caribbean Studies at Dartmouth College. With interests in gender and politics, particularly in Latin America, Professor Baldez has published research on women’s movements and women’s rights legislation in journals including Comparative Politics and The Journal of Legal Studies. Her most recent work considers the Convention to End All Forms of Discrimination Against Women (CEDAW), approved by the United Nations’ General Assembly in 1979. The United States remains the only industrialized democracy that has not ratified the convention. World Outlook sat down with Professor Baldez to discuss CEDAW’s potential implications and U.S. opposition.

WO: CEDAW seems to call for broad-based change regarding how the world perceives and interacts with women. Why do you believe the U.S. has yet to ratify this treaty? LB: The fact that we haven’t ratified it is actually really surprising, but it’s even more surprising given that we were one of the main countries that participated in the drafting of the convention in the 1970s. That was done with primarily Republican administrations, and Republican appointees. So the U.S. was a very strong supporter of CEDAW in the ’70s. But in 1980, when it became open for ratification and signature by UN and other countries, there was a change in government in the United States: that was when President Reagan was elected. But it wasn’t just President Reagan. President Reagan was actually a strong supporter of human rights; it was that the Republican Party that had supported women’s rights basically throughout the 20th century changed its views on women’s issues decisively in the very late 1970s, early 1980s. It became a party that actually went from supporting an Equal Rights Amendment (ERA), to opposing an Equal Rights Amendment, from supporting abortion rights to opposing abortion rights, from participating in the drafting of CEDAW to objecting to ratification of CEDAW. So the real reason why we haven’t ratified it has to do with partisan position, and those shifts in the views of the Republican Party, and also the Democratic Party. WO: From your research, what would you say are some of the fundamental criticisms of CEDAW? LB: I think, within the context of the United States, a lot of people argue — and I think they are primarily right — that women in the U.S. already have all the rights and all the policies and laws that we need to have equality. In terms of what we need to change, it’s true that at the minimal level, we would not have to do much in order to comply with CEDAW. That said… women in the United States are still not equal to men on a real everyday basis. And so while we have great laws on the books, there’s still a big gap in terms of women’s equality with men. That’s kind of what the focus of CEDAW is: How do you bring your laws and policies in line with the actual status of women? WO: In the context of the United States, would an Equal Rights Amendment be more beneficial than the passage of CEDAW to American women? LB: I think that’s a really interesting question. I think a lot of organizations are focused

Interview with Lisa Baldez

on CEDAW ratification rather than an Equal Rights Amendment (ERA). The ERA would put explicit language in the U.S. Constitution, guaranteeing equality for men and women. Some argue that if we had that specific language in the Constitution, that would force the Supreme Court to take gender rights more seriously in its decisions. There’s evidence for and against that. CEDAW, however, is much more expansive than the ERA in that it goes beyond the guarantee of constitutional equality to guaranteeing a whole series of rights in every social, economic, political, and cultural life. If we were willing to take CEDAW seriously, it would be much more powerful than the ERA. That said, that’s also a point of opposition — that CEDAW is too broad, too powerful, and covers too many areas of life. People want rights restricted to a fairly narrow understanding and perception of rights. WO: Regarding the reforms and changes CEDAW calls for, do you see any potential issues of sovereignty? LB: I don’t. I know that many opponents to CEDAW make that argument that if the U.S. ratified CEDAW, it would impinge on U.S. sovereignty to make its own decisions about women’s right policy. From that perspective, our sovereignty has already been impinged upon in thousands of different ways, by the thousands of treaties that were party to. We are already deeply involved with the United Nations in lots of different ways, and I don’t view CEDAW as distinctive in that way. I also don’t view CEDAW as being that powerful to really constitute a violation of sovereignty. What CEDAW would do is hold us up to a standard, and hold us accountable to a standard, that we ourselves, and the country, would have to comply with. WO: What stories exemplify CEDAW’s success? LB: I think the most important success story of CEDAW is the most general, and that is saying that “women’s rights” are “human rights.” We have many different understandings of human rights. We have the United Nations Declaration of Human Rights from 1948. But those don’t articulate the rights that are specific to women. The real power of CEDAW is making a strong claim that if we want to support human rights, these are the rights we need to include and to think of. That said, in countries around the world where they lack the traditions of rights, laws, constitutional equality, and a strong judicial system, CEDAW has kind of served as a way to provide them with a benchmark that they need to adopt. WO: Some of the countries that have ratified CEDAW still lie toward the bottom of the Gender Equality Index. Do you believe that there is enough pressure from the international community to actually produce change within these countries? LB: I think that’s a really good point, and I think it underscores both the strength and limitations of CEDAW. CEDAW can’t force any country to do anything. It can merely make recommendations and draw conclusions or assessments about certain countries’ states of affairs. But when the United Nations comes out with the report that provides an overview of women’s rights in a particular country, that report increases the leverage of organizations within that country to hold their own governments accountable. That to me is the beauty of how the CEDAW process works. It empowers; it gives tools to groups that might be ignored, overlooked, or may not have a voice in the political arena, by virtue of being legitimized by the United Nations.

Institutionalizing Women’s Rights

WO: At this point, what do you see in the future for CEDAW? Where does it go from here? LB: Over the course of the convention’s life, since 1979, the committee that oversees it has had an evolving interpretation of what the various articles of CEDAW mean and how they are defined. And so CEDAW actually has changed quite a bit in terms of how countries have interpreted it. Violence against women is mentioned nowhere in the text itself, but in the jurisprudence that has come about by virtue of the communities’ decisions, violence against women is understood by all the signatories to be a core part of the convention and compliance with the convention. So I think in the future we’ll continue to see — as the world changes, as we come to understand what “women’s rights” means, and how we agree about those things —that the treaty will continue to evolve. If the United States ratifies CEDAW, that would further increase the legitimacy and the strength of the CEDAW convention in the eyes of other countries, just by virtue of having this powerful country that’s supposedly seen as pro-women’s rights as a party. So that’s one possibility for the future. WO: One of the statutes within CEDAW calls for reform change within different governments to advance women’s participation in government, with one of those reforms being a gender quota. In what ways does a gender quota promote gender equality in government? LS: It’s an interesting question because the word quota in the United States has a bad connotation. But in many countries around the world, they have passed laws that require a certain percentage of candidates, from all political parties, to be women. And their laws are called “gender quota laws” — they use the word quota. And the reason for that, I think, is that highly mobilized women’s groups, primarily in Latin America, got so frustrated at all the explanations that were given for why there were so few women involved in politics that they banded together and formed coalitions across political parties and demanded that these laws be adopted. I think a lot of political parties went along with it because they never believed it would be powerful. They never believed it would be implemented; they never believed it would be important. But once the laws were in place, this started pressuring the judicial system. They work by requiring parties to nominate — let’s say, 30, 40, 50 percent of their candidates have to be — women. Depending on how the law interacts with the electoral system, they’ve generated increases in the numbers of women who get elected to congress. Now that said, you can have women from all the different parties across the political spectrum, and they might not agree on anything that has to do with women’s rights. So what that means in terms of public policy and legislative outcomes, we’re really just starting to understand, to measure, to study. WO: Why do countries similar to the U.S. feel as though gender quotas wouldn’t be appropriate for them, as though the stakes are too high to institute such reforms? LB: I mean, I think the stakes are too high in some sense. One reason, and this isn’t the only reason, is that it’s easier to think about adopting a quota when you have multi-member districts. So if you have electoral districts in a country where you elect ten people per district, and you have a quota of 30%, that means three of every ten candidates is going to be a woman. That’s kind of easier to divide than if we have one-candidate districts, which we have here in the United States, where it becomes more difficult think of a gender quota. France is a country that has single-member

Interview with Lisa Baldez

districts and gender quotas; in most cases however, the political parties who are happy to pay a hefty fee rather than actually comply with the quota laws in France violate the quota law. So that quota law there has had very little impact. Part of it has to do with whether it’s easy to imagine how you would implement gender quotas; another has to do with the collective representation of groups in politics. It’s more part of the political environment elsewhere than in America. [In Mexico], there’s more a tradition of thinking about collective allocation of candidate spots to particular constituencies. Also, the candidates are chosen by party leaders, rather than by voters in primaries. Those are just some of the reasons why it’s different, in addition to the fact that the United States has a long and contentious relationship with affirmative action. So the idea that we would move forward with [gender quotas], at a point when we are rolling back affirmative action in employment and education, in the political arena, where the stakes are so high and the amount of money involved is so high, is hard to imagine. But meanwhile, we’re out of step with the rest of the world. Almost every other country is toying with some version of a gender quota. WO: Are gender quotas a temporary fix to a greater problem, or more likely to be permanent solutions? LB: In most of the legislation that was written for gender quotas, it stipulates that they are temporary. CEDAW, in fact, it calls them “temporary special measures.” So the idea is that once you get to parity — once you get to 50-50, 30-70, or some threshold —you can undo the gender quota. In no country in the world, where they’ve adopted quotas in the last 20 years, have they ever eliminated the quota… except for one, Colombia, in which the law was declared unconstitutional. So yes, theoretically, they are designed to be temporary, and maybe it’s because no country has actually achieved parity. It seems like the people who are benefitting from the quotas want to make sure they stay in place. WO: What would you say is the greatest issue facing Latin American women at this time? LB: I think the greatest issue facing women in Latin America is economic development, economic growth, jobs, as it is for men and for people in the developed world as well. That said, that is not an issue that is particularly gendered; it’s not specific to women. It affects women in a particular way. There’s often a gender gap in terms of employment levels, or unemployment rates, or levels of education. Although, actually, in many countries, women are getting college educations at a higher rate than men; so there’s a gender gap, in the reverse direction. In my mind, gender quotas, because they result in the election of women across all the different political parties, if they are implemented they way they were intended, they’re not actually building a coalition of like-minded legislators; they’re simply bringing women’s voices into the political arena in greater number. But to be honest, no one has done a study that asks, “What is the impact of gender quotas on policy outcomes?” That research has kind of been done, just not in a really rigorous way. WO: Do you believe that gender quotas have been well received, or is having and abiding by these regulations seen as political posturing? LB: I think there’s wide variation there. It’s not the case that in every country political parties are boasting the fact that they have gender quotas. And in many countries it’s

Institutionalizing Women’s Rights

under the radar because some of their voters would not like the fact that there would be gender quotas. My personal hypothesis on this is that gender quotas empower party leaders to pick candidates. You know in this country you choose candidates by means of primaries. If you wanted to run for election, you would fit the requirements of age, and living in a particular district, and then you could run for office. In many Latin American countries, you could only run for office if a leader nominated you. That power of those party leaders has been threatened by efforts to internally democratize the parties. Gender quotas, as a policy option, came around at the same time as these pressures for democratization. My theory is that a lot of quotas look democratic in that they are trying to get more women involved, but actually don’t threaten the ability for leaders to pick the candidates they want. They just require that some of those candidates be women; the power of the party leader to pick candidates is not impaired in any way. I think it has this kind of anti-democratic consequence to it that a lot people think, “Oh, quotas!” Whether they think they’re great or not, they don’t see that it actually enhances the practices that are somewhat undemocratic.

Tapline, Syria, and the Suez Crisis: An Analysis of Pipeline Politics in the Era of Nasser and the Cold War Michael Schwartz In the mid-1950s, Egypt’s Gamal Abdel Nasser and his Arab Nationalist ideology were gaining momentum across the Arab world, particularly in Syria. When Cold War politicking pushed Nasser to nationalize the Suez Canal in 1956, there was intense pressure on Arab Nationalists to follow suit in their respective countries. US officials identified Tapline, an American oil pipeline, as a high-risk target for sabotage in Syria–yet when the crisis came and passed, the pipeline was left unscathed. The goal of this paper is to explore the confluence of pressures that motivated Syria to protect Tapline in this moment of Arab Nationalist fervor. Specifically, this paper contextualizes Syria’s decision by considering its relationship with the Trans-Arabian Pipeline Company, inter-Arab rivalries, and the Cold War superpower struggle. At the crossroads of the Arab world, Syria held great ideological and geopolitical significance. Ultimately, Tapline served as a strategic tool that enabled Syria to navigate the complex web of power dynamics entangling the country.

On November 1, 1956, Egyptian President Gamal Abdel Nasser stood before the Arab people in the midst of a regional crisis. Just a day earlier, in response to British, French, and Israeli attacks, Nasser had sunk forty-nine ships at the entrance of the Suez Canal, completely blocking it. Now, on the radio service Voice of the Arabs, Nasser spoke to the Arab people, calling them to rise up against Western imperialism: At these decisive moments in the history of the Homeland, I speak to each individual. At this time our thoughts turn to the Homeland, its safety, its honor, its dignity. Either we live a free, honest, and dignified life, or live a humiliated life . . . Brethren, let us all today think of our Homeland and let the objective of each of us be to live an honorable, dignified life . . . And now, O compatriot, that we are facing this situation, shall we fight or shall we surrender? . . . We shall fight, O compatriots, the forces of injustice which want to violate our freedom.1

In this moment of nationalist fervor, Nasser’s message resonated throughout the Arab world. His vision for pan-Arabism had swept across the region since he rose to power in 1952, and in this moment of defiance, his words were more forceful than ever. Hours after Nasser’s speech, Egyptian students came on the air to broadcast their call to arms. Echoing Nasser’s message, they reached out to the Arab youth, the “bearers of the torch of freedom and self-sacrifice in the Arab Homeland,” to initiate their role in the Arabist movement.2 In particular, they called upon the students “to join the Arab workers in their struggle to carry out their resolutions in blowing up “President Addresses the Egyptian People,” Cairo, Voice of the Arabs, 1 Nov. 1956. Foreign Broadcast Information Service (accessed 26 February 2012). 2 “Daily Report,” Cairo, Voice of the Arabs, 1 Nov. 1956. Foreign Broadcast Information Service (accessed 26 February 2012). 1

Michael Schwartz, originally from Washington, D.C., graduated from Dartmouth in 2012. He received his B.A. in Economics and Middle Eastern Studies, focusing on international finance and Arab politics. He wrote this paper for Professor Edward Miller’s seminar on Asia, the Middle East, and the Cold War. Michael is currently an analyst at Morgan Stanley in the investment banking division.

Tapline, Syria, and the Suez Crisis

oil pipelines and in preventing oil supplies from reaching the war machine of our enemies.”3 Three hundred fifty miles away in Damascus, a group of Syrian government officials, military leaders, and nationalists listened intently to the broadcast. Two days later, on November 3, 1956, three pumping stations along the Iraq Petroleum Company’s (IPC) oil pipeline were sabotaged, severing the flow of oil from the Iraq oil fields to the Mediterranean.4 Curiously, there was a single oil pipeline that the Syrians left untouched: the Trans-Arabian pipeline. Oil continued to flow through the pipeline on its 1, 068 mile journey from Saudi Arabia, through Jordan and Syria, to the ports of Lebanon.5 The Trans-Arabian pipeline, called Tapline, was critical for American oil ventures in the Middle East. This symbol of American imperialism escaped from the Suez Crisis unscathed by the current of Arab nationalist defiance sweeping across the region. Prior scholarship concerning Syria’s protection of Tapline has focused exclusively on one level of analysis, pinning the decision on diplomatic relationship. Primary accounts convey only a narrow set of personal interests. Both sources fail to consider the confluence of pressures influencing Syrian leaders during the Suez Crisis. The goal of this paper, therefore, is to contextualize Syria’s decision by considering the relationship between the Trans-Arabian Pipeline Company (Tapline), inter-Arab rivalries, and the Cold War superpower struggle. Such an analysis will offer a more nuanced understanding of the diplomatic interests that ultimately motivated Syria to preserve Tapline on November 3, 1956. During the 1940s and 50s, the controversies surrounding Tapline became deeply integrated with Syrian politics. The pipeline seized Syrian national attention and became a symbol of Western penetration. In reaction to this political situation, the United States government identified Tapline as a potential target for sabotage during the Suez Crisis. While the British IPC pipeline could not escape Syrian nationalist fervor, the nexus of regional and Cold War pressures transformed Tapline into a political tool that Syria could leverage for strategic positioning. With the Baghdad Pact debate consuming the Middle East, Syria was thrust into the center of inter-Arab politicking as well as the Cold War superpower struggle. As Syria drifted into the Egyptian-Saudi camp, the Tapline transit fee negotiations increased the importance of the state’s new alliances. Furthermore, these relationships facilitated warming relations with the Soviet Union, prompting American concern. Ultimately, Syria’s decision to preserve Tapline was a strategic move to strengthen its relationship with Egypt, Saudi Arabia, and the United States—each of which had a unique set of interests. Syria leveraged Tapline’s politics to strategically position the nation, ultimately safeguarding the pipeline from sabotage during the Suez Crisis. The Ratification Process: Tapline in the Syrian National Consciousness To fully understand Syria’s relationship with Tapline, it is essential to first consider the highly politicized atmosphere in which the pipeline was proposed and eventually constructed. The Syrian ratification of Tapline in 1948 was highly controversial because of a deep-seated mistrust and disdain of outside influence. These anti-imperialist sentiments, though not specifically anti-American, were motivated by two underlying factors: 1) the recent departure of France as Syria’s colonial occupier, and 2) the creation of Israel in 1948. This resentment of outside influence and the Ibid. Harold Lubell, Middle East Oil Crises and Western Europe’s Energy Supplies (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins, 1963), 9. 5 J.E. Hartshorn, Oil Companies and Governments: An Account of the International Oil Industry in its Political Environment (London: Faber and Faber, 1962), 60. 3 4

Michael Schwartz

political capital inherent in anti-Israel rhetoric gave fuel to a fiery national debate on the ratification of Tapline. As one of the first issues that confronted the entire nation, Tapline captured the Syrian political dialogue. Consequently, when it was eventually constructed, Tapline was not just a pragmatic economic concern, but instead was an integral component of the Syrian national consciousness. When Tapline officials first approached the Syrian government with a proposal to construct an oil pipeline across its territory, they were met with a strong sense of skepticism. Just two years earlier in 1946, Syria had finally gained its independence after a prolonged and tumultuous period under French colonial rule. Syrian officials were wary of permitting an outside power into its newly sovereign territory and were even more wary of the political implications. At the start of the ratification process, there was little support within the Syrian Parliament. Khalid al-‘Azm, Prime Minister of Syria, explained that Parliament was hesitant to go forward with ratification, in particular because “some deputies were afraid United States interference in Syria would follow,” while others were “subject to the pressures and inducement of interests suspicious of the West.”6 As al-‘Azm revealed, French rule had seared a profound sense of distrust in the Syrian public. Confronted with the ratification of Tapline, Parliament had to face both the suspicions of the deputies as well as intense public skepticism. The question of ratification sparked an intense debate in the Syrian press, a debate filled with sharp anti-imperialist rhetoric. The debate grabbed the nation’s attention, prompting fears of a reversion to the corrupt old guard and external domination. Al-Akhbar, a Syrian daily, accused Tapline of fostering a patronage system designed to strengthen its “friendship with the leading influential personalities and feudal leaders among the Syrian population.”7 These criticisms were not unfounded; in fact, Sabri al- ‘Asali, a leading Syrian politician, was a senior partner in a prestigious law firm whose clients included the Trans-Arabian Pipeline Company.8 To many Syrians, such divided loyalties embodied Syria’s struggle to throw off French rule and threatened the future of the nation’s freedom. The newspaper Al-Nasr published numerous articles that “adopted the theme that the agreement would interfere with the sovereignty of Syria and hinted that it was ‘imperialist’ in nature.”9 Syria’s colonial past was fresh in the public’s mind, prompting a deep-seated skepticism towards what an American pipeline might mean for Syrian sovereignty. Against this backdrop of imperialist suspicions, the creation of the State of Israel in 1948 presented an additional complexity to the ratification equation. The partition plan and the crushing defeat of the Arab militaries in the 1948 War brought the Palestinian cause to the fore of Arab politics. The Palestinian plight became a rallying cry of Arab nationalism, and as a result, the public placed intense pressure on Arab governments to speak out against Israel and its supporters. The ratification of Tapline, overlapping with what the Arab world has come to call al-Nakhba— The Catastrophe— prompted Syrian politicians to equate the ratification of Tapline with an endorsement of American support for Israel. In the context of Syria’s fragile domestic politics, Syrian politicians co-opted the Palestinian cause to garner support and establish legitimacy both domestically and regionally. Letter from Khalid al-‘Azm to Patrick Seale, Damascus, 8 November 1960 in Patrick Seale, The Struggle for Syria: A Study of Post-War Arab Politics 1945-1958 (London: Oxford University Press, 1965), 36. 7 “Tapline Reveals Its Reality: Those Responsible in the Company Become Active in Spreading American Influence,” Al-Akhbar , 26 July 1950 in George Lenczowski, Oil and State in the Middle East (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1960), 217. 8 Lenczowski, Oil and State in the Middle East, 165. 9 “Oil Concession Attacked,” New York Times, 7 May 1949. Proquest (accessed 26 February 2012). 6

Tapline, Syria, and the Suez Crisis

From the outset, Syrian politicians recognized the value of opposing Tapline in connection with the Palestinian cause. Even before the establishment of Israel, politicians exploited the political capital inherent in the conflict and delayed ratification of the partition plan in light of American support.10 While their motives were in part sincere, it is also evident that many politicians co-opted the cause for their own benefit. Al-‘Azm explained that in Parliament, while many deputies were resentful of Western support for Israel, many also hoped that “by making a show of opposition they would be offered bribes for their votes.”11 Such selfish interests were also present at the regional level, as Syrian leaders used Palestinian politics as a means of Arabist jockeying. In January 1948, Syrian President Shukri al-Quwatly publicly declared that he would defer Syria’s ratification decision to the Arab League, and added, “There will be no peace in Palestine until the partition plan is definitely abandoned.”12 Similarly, in a series of articles in 1949, Syrian Minister of Defense Ahmad Sharabati argued against ratification so long as the Palestinian issue had not been solved “in favor of the Arabs.”13 As Arab nationalism was gaining prominence in the Middle East, Syrian leaders tapped into the movement’s appeal to garner legitimacy. By incorporating the Palestinian struggle into the ratification debate, Syrian politicians could shore up their otherwise fragile domestic support and bolster the nation’s stature within the Arab world. Because of the intense rhetoric surrounding Tapline’s ratification, the pipeline was branded into the Syrian national consciousness as a symbol of both Western infiltration and Palestinian oppression. The debate underscored the fears and vulnerabilities of the newly independent nation, which consequently became entwined with the pipeline’s politics. While Tapline was eventually approved and constructed, the ratification debate entrenched the importance of the pipeline in Syrian public opinion. Fee Negotiations: Tracing the Path from Exploitation to Accountability Due to the politicization of Tapline, the Trans-Arabian Pipeline Company felt vulnerable in the fragile Syrian political environment. Following the fall of Colonel Abdib Shishlaki’s military dictatorship in 1954, Syria established a parliamentary system that was plagued by fragmentation, opportunistic politicians, and the threat of coup d’état. The chronic instability undermined the government’s ability to set the nation on a stable, unified trajectory, resulting in anxiety among Tapline officials. The uncertainty stemming from the nationalization of the Tapline debate enabled Syrian leaders to actively exploit Tapline for economic gain. Seeking to earn full value for its strategic geographic position, Syria unleashed its oil weapon, consistently pressuring Tapline to increase transit fees. While Syria was successful in pressuring Tapline, the company’s shrewd negotiating tactics ultimately turned the tables back on Syria in the months leading up to Suez Crisis. With the oil weapon disarmed, Syria and the other transit countries were forced to take ownership of their profit-sharing arrangements. The fierce transit fee debates continued to keep Tapline in the Syrian national consciousness, but ultimately, Tapline’s strategic positioning undercut Syria’s leverage and compelled the country to take responsibility for the pipeline. “Syria Blocks Pact on U.S. Oil Transit,” New York Times, 19 Dec. 1947. Proquest (accessed 26 February 2012). 11 Letter from Khalid al-‘Azm in Seale, The Struggle for Syria: A Study of Post-War Arab Politics 1945-1958, 36. 12 “Syria Conditions Pipeline,” New York Times, 16 Jan. 1948. Proquest (accessed 26 February 2012). 13 From the articles published in Assa al-Jinnah, 14 and 21 Jan. 1949, and in An-Nasr, 18 Jan. 1949 in Lenczowski, Oil and State in the Middle East, 157. 10

Michael Schwartz

Following independence from France, Syrian politics were in constant turmoil, with multiple military coups and a factionalized parliamentary system. Civilian rule was established in 1954 following the overthrow of Shishlaki, whose oppressive regime was despotic, fascist, and “unprecedented even in the worst periods of the colonial era.”14 The elections saw the birth of party politics in Syria, yet Parliament was merely a disparate array of conflicting interests, with twelve parties elected to Parliament in September 1954.15 Conservative parties controlled the government, but they were debilitated by persistent infighting, unable to establish a cohesive vision for the country. After his election to the presidency in 1955, Quwatly squandered his mandate as he failed to unite the bickering conservative factions.16 Leftists elements, consequently, exploited the fragmentation of the Syrian conservatives and seized control of the national political dialogue. Cooperation between the Arab Socialist Resurrectionist Party (ASRP, also known as the Ba’ath Party) and the Communist Party, in particular, created a powerful subversive force in the government.17 The left established strategic alliances across the Syrian power structure to further their neutral nationalist agenda, garnering “disproportionate influence.”18 That threatened the “future deterioration of Syrian internal security.”19 Syria’s first taste of civilian rule lacked the cohesion essential for fostering institutional development and uniting the nation. Despite the newfound position for parties in the Syrian political system, opportunistic personalities continued to play an essential role. Politicians often paid lip service to ideology while pursuing personal agendas. On both sides of the political divide, politicians exploited public fears to cement their own official positions. Chief of Staff General Shawkat Shuqayr, for example, cast himself as a staunch antiCommunist who was favorable to the United States, but lacked “real ideological attachment and was primarily concerned with remaining Chief of Staff regardless of the type of government.”20 Other politicians identified with specific parties to bolster their credibility, but placed little importance on furthering these supposed ideologies. In 1956, President Quwatly and Prime Minister al-‘Asali, both members of the conservative National Party, adopted increasingly leftist positions in an effort to maintain support in the face of antigovernment demonstrations and labor strikes; the State Department referred to them both as “nominal conservatives.”21 Such ideological incoherence undermined the legitimacy and reliability of Syria’s leaders. Officials exploited the nascent political system for their own personal advantage, stunting the growth of the government. “Army Command Statement,” Daily Report, 25 Feb. 1954. Foreign Broadcast Information Service (accessed 26 February 2012). 15 “Briefing Paper Prepared in the Bureau of Near Eastern, South Asian and African Affairs, 17 Dec. 1954,” Foreign Relations of the United States 1955-1957: The Near East: Jordan-Yemen ed. John Glennon (Washington, DC: United States Government Printing Press, 1988), 514. 16 James Moose, “Telegram From the Embassy in Syria to Department of State, 14 Oct. 1955,” Foreign Relations of the United States 1955-1957: The Near East: Jordan-Yemen, 554. 17 John Dulles, “Telegram From the Department of State to the Embassy in Syria, 5 May 1955,” Foreign Relations of the United States 1955-1957: The Near East: Jordan-Yemen, 525. 18 James Moose, “Telegram from the Embassy in Syria to the Department of State, 7 May 1955” Foreign Relations of the United States 1955-1957: The Near East: Jordan-Yemen, 526. 19 “Paper Prepared by the Operations Coordinating Board Working Group on National Security Council Action 1290-d, 7 July 1955,” Foreign Relations of the United States 1955-1957: The Near East: Jordan-Yemen, 530. 20 James Moose, “Telegram From the Embassy in Syria to Department of State, 14 Oct 1955,” Foreign Relations of the United States 1955-1957: The Near East: Jordan-Yemen, 554. 21 “Special National Intelligence Estimate, 16 Nov 1956,” Foreign Relations of the United States 1955-1957: The Near East: Jordan-Yemen, 601. 14

Tapline, Syria, and the Suez Crisis

Moreover, despite having ceded power over to civilian rule, the army continued to loom in the background of Syrian politics. The army was reluctant to fully relinquish power, and would often insert itself into political affairs, undermining the prospects for genuine civilian governance. In 1954, for example, when President Hashim al-Atasi struggled to form a cabinet, the Army threatened to intervene.22 While its intentions were not necessarily malicious, the army’s persistent interference influenced power dynamics in the country. Joseph Alsop, an American journalist, predicted in May 1956 that Abdel Hamid al-Sarraj, head of Syrian Intelligence, would be “Syria’s next military dictator.”23 While his prediction did not come to fruition, it reveals the substantial power the Syrian Army wielded in the post-Shishlaki era. In 1956, the State Department cited the “ever present threat of an army coup” as a key factor undermining the civilian leadership.24 Such a threatening environment inhibited political decisiveness, denying Syria the opportunity to develop a national vision. The fragile political environment prompted Tapline anxiety, which Syria once again exploited for negotiating leverage. Beginning in 1952, the Syrian government began to exert pressure on Tapline to increase its transit fees. In its initial concession agreement, Tapline agreed to annually pay Syria $2,600,000 plus 200,000 barrels of crude oil.25 By March 1952, the Syrian government demanded a renegotiation of fees, and by year’s end, the government was demanding another round of negotiations. Syrian officials argued that the company was enjoying greater benefits than the country was being compensated for and that the fee structure should reflect Syria’s full value for the pipeline. Rather than be compensated as a functional thoroughfare, Syria wanted to be rewarded for its strategic value.26 Specifically, the Syrian government argued that Tapline was saving considerably on transportation costs by using a pipeline instead of a tanker, and thus, the transit countries should equally share in this saving.27 The Syrian government wanted to create a fifty-fifty profit sharing agreement, much like the arrangements oil-producing countries enjoyed. The Syrian government sought to capitalize on Tapline’s perceived vulnerability to exploit its position as a transit country. Indeed, Tapline officials, as well as the United States government, felt the company had minimal negotiating leverage. The State Department acknowledged as early as 1952 that oil companies were an inevitable target in the Middle East: Department finds ostentatiously successful oil industry unavoidably destined to be a primary target for Arab anger and frustration with their lot and with West . . . Demands for more of everything from Western oil companies has double attraction of gaining more at expense of West.28 “Army Warns Atasi to End Cabinet Crisis,” Baghdad, Iraqi Home Service, 14 June 1954, Foreign Broadcast Information Service (accessed 26 February 2012). 23 New York Herald Tribune, 25 May 1956 in Seale, The Struggle for Syria: A Study of PostWar Arab Politics 1945-1958, 257. 24 “Special National Intelligence Estimate, 16 Nov. 1956,” Foreign Relations of the United States 1955-1957: The Near East: Jordan-Yemen, 602. 25 Albion Ross, “Oil Revenue Rises in Mid-East Region,” New York Times, 3 Jan. 1952. Proquest (accessed 26 February 2012). 26 David Finnie, Desert Enterprise: The Middle East Oil Industry in its Local Environment (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1958), 63. 27 Robert Eakens, “Memorandum by the Chief of the Petroleum Policy Staff, 3 June 1953,” Foreign Relations of the United States 1952-1954: The Near and Middle East , Vol. IX Part I ed. John Glennon (Washington, DC: United States Government Printing Press, 1986), 669. 28 David Bruce, “The Acting Secretary of State to the Embassy in the United Kingdom, 12 Dec. 1952,” Foreign Relations of the United States 1952-1954: The Near and Middle East, 619. 22

Michael Schwartz

As the State Department’s analysis suggests, Syrian discontent with the West, coupled with Tapline’s profitability, provided the Syrian government with gunpowder to exploit the company for higher fees. Recognizing its precarious position, Tapline had little room to maneuver. During these initial phases of renegotiation, John Noble, Vice President of Tapline, lamented that “the company couldn’t be in a more disadvantageous position to enter formal negotiations.”29 It was generally accepted at the time that pipeline companies would simply have to accept this “constant state of guerilla warfare.”30 In fact, the State Department even acknowledged that while not ideal, this state of affairs was the only means possible to preserve its foreign oil interests. Pipeline companies would have to accept this combative atmosphere and strive to develop some modicum of mutual respect to keep crises at a minimum.31 Therefore, while Tapline had months earlier renegotiated its agreement with Syria — “the ink had barely dried”32 — the company had no choice but to reopen negotiations. Negotiations remained deadlocked for the next three years, as Syria continued to increase its pressure on Tapline. The country pursued a number of avenues, eventually enlisting its Finance, Foreign, and Economy Ministers to pressure the company for larger royalties.33 Finance Minister Abdulwahhab Hawmad led the effort against Tapline, and in early 1956, Tapline agreed in principle to Syria’s demands for increased profit sharing.34 Tapline, however, effectively positioned itself in the agreement: rather than embroil itself in further fee negotiations, the company agreed to the fifty-fifty arrangement, but left the division of those fees up to the transit countries.35 Tapline effectively lifted itself above the level of combat, and depoliticized its involvement in the negotiations. While the company conceded to Syria’s demands, it denied Syria the ability to pressure Tapline in future negotiations. David Finnie, a Middle East oil expert in the 1950s, explained that Tapline engineered a “negative coup,” a rarity for oil companies in the Middle East.36 While Syria’s domestic fragility once undermined the company’s position, Tapline exploited the government’s weakness to impose its shrewd negotiating terms. Tapline rejected the divide-and-conquer theory and grouped the transit countries together as one negotiating entity, in turn placing the onus on the transit countries for the division of fees. Consequently, a rift emerged between the transit states beginning in early 1956 over the specific division of the fees. Countries with small pipeline mileage, such as Lebanon, argued for equal sharing on the basis that fees should be determined by the principle of right of passage, while Saudi Arabia argued in favor of proportional division.37 Such a rift threatened to undermine the negotiating posture of the Arab states, particularly with foreign oil companies. The transit states, therefore, positioned themselves to create an image of Arab unity. While Tapline effectively turned the tables on the transit states, these nations William McMaster, “Memorandum of Conversation, by William McMaster of the Petroleum Policy Staff, 30 Dec. 1952,” Foreign Relations of the United States 1952-1954: The Near and Middle East, 635. 30 David Bruce, “The Acting Secretary of State to the Embassy in Lebanon, 13 Nov. 1952” Foreign Relations of the United States 1952-1954: The Near and Middle East, 618. 31 Ibid. 32 Lenczowski, Oil and State in the Middle East, 162. 33 “Syria Eyeing Pipelines,” New York Times, 24 Jan. 1955. Proquest (accessed 26 February 2012). 34 “Pipeline Will Pay Syrian Royalty Rise,” New York Times, 7 Feb. 1956. Proquest (accessed 26 February 2012). 35 Charles Issawi and Mohammed Yeganeh, The Economics of Middle Eastern Oil (New York: Praeger, 1962), 139. 36 Finnie, Desert Enterprise: The Middle East Oil Industry in its Local Environment, 85. 37 Issawi and Yeganeh, The Economics of Middle Eastern Oil, 139. 29

Tapline, Syria, and the Suez Crisis

did not want to expose their divisions. As early as 1951, the Arab world sought to develop an Arab oil policy in order to present a united front to foreign oil interests. The Arab League established the Permanent Petroleum Office in 1955, which was tasked to “awaken an ‘oil consciousness’ among Arab states, to gather statistical data and information, and to draft the principles of a general Arab oil policy.”38 In the summer of 1956, the Arab League announced its first annual Arab Oil Week. The League declared: This will provide the Arabs with the first opportunity of its kind to point out the value to the world of Arab oil and to draw the attention of world public opinion to the importance of Arab oil and its influence on the future of the Arab World and of Arab Sovereignty.39

Faced with conflicting fee interests, the transit states sought to minimize their perceived divisions in an effort to preserve their political leverage. By mid-summer 1956, the transit states were meeting “to discuss joint petroleum interests.”40 The transit fee debates of the early 1950s created a unique set of pressures on the Syrian government during the Suez Crisis. Syria’s persistent fee demands revealed Syria’s unabashed desire to exploit Tapline’s perceived vulnerability. Certainly, with Tapline already a part of the Syrian national consciousness, sabotage of the pipeline at one time presented a potent threat that boosted Syria’s leverage. However, the company, through effective negotiating tactics, exploited Syria’s domestic frailty to separate itself from the political chaos. The threat of sabotage was no longer a credible negotiating tactic when the burden of profit divisions was placed on the transit countries. The Syrian national oil consciousness still thrived, but in the context of the Suez Crisis, it was no longer a threat against the Trans-Arabian Oil Company. Consequently, the Syrian government lost its economic leverage against Tapline and could only utilize the pipeline as a political tool vis-à-vis the other transit states and the United States. Regional Politicking: The Rise of the Egyptian-Saudi Connection With the tables turned, Syria’s posturing within the region became increasingly relevant. Syria could no longer negotiate with Tapline, and instead was forced to bolster its relations with its fellow transit states in order to secure its fair share of pipeline fees. After the fall of Shishlaki in 1954, Syria had positioned itself neutrally between Iraq and Egypt, the competing regional powers. The Baghdad Pact debate thrust Syria into the heart of the power struggle, as Syria became the lynchpin of regional affairs. By 1955, however, Syria was drifting into the Egyptian-Saudi camp. Due to the Tapline fee negotiations in early 1956, these relationships became increasingly important for Syria. Syria’s decision to preserve Tapline fortified the nation’s relationship with Egypt and Saudi Arabia, both of which had vested interests in the pipeline and its politics. When the Baghdad Pact was established in January 1955, a tense regional debate erupted that forced the Arab states to confront their ideological persuasions. Iraq and Egypt stood at the center of the inter-Arab rivalry and competed for regional hegemony. Iraq signed the Baghdad Pact as a joint defense agreement — aligned with Western interests — that was intended to form a northern tier of protection against Soviet influence. Egypt, on the other hand, viewed the Baghdad Pact as an Iraqi effort to assert itself as the ideological leader of the Arab world, bolstered by Western Lenczowski, Oil and State in the Middle East, 190. Finnie, Desert Enterprise: The Middle East Oil Industry in its Local Environment, 87. 40 Arab Nations Plan Petroleum Talks,” New York Times, 31 July 1956. Proquest (accessed 26 February 2012). 38 39

Michael Schwartz

imperialist interests. Egypt espoused a policy of positive neutralism, which argued in favor of non-alignment centered on the ideal of Arab nationalism. In a fiery speech against the Baghdad Pact, Nasser called upon the Arab people to unite in a common defense: Compatriots, Egypt has started a new era of relations with the Arabs — an era based on true and frank fraternity, facing up to and thinking out problems and endeavoring to solve them. The aim of the Revolution Government is for the Arabs to become one Nation with all its sons collaborating for the common welfare ... The Revolution also believes that the weight of the defense of the Arab states falls first and foremost on the Arabs and they are worthy of undertaking it.41

The Baghdad Pact presented the Arab states with one of their first regional decisions since their independence and demanded that they chose a side. Intense pressure emanated from Iraq and Egypt, as the decision to join the Pact would have profound regional implications. Syria found itself at the heart of the power struggle, and for a time, it attempted to remain neutral. Located at the crossroads of the Arab world, Syria held great geopolitical and ideological significance to the region, and consequently became the key player in determining the success of the Pact. Domestically, Syria was torn between conservative, old guard elements that supported Iraq and the rising tide of leftist nationalists, who supported Egypt. Mahmoud Riad, an Egyptian foreign envoy, was sent to Syria in order to pressure the leaders to oppose the Pact. Riad intimately experienced the discord within Syria: There was a clear and understandable tendency among the older Syrian politicians to sign the Baghdad Pact ... It was not easy for a Syrian Government not to do so. In 1954 Egypt’s policy was not yet absolutely clear and it was far from evident to what extent Egypt could support a Government or a country which chose to go against the current set by Iraq and the Western Powers.42

On the other hand, Syria had a long history of Arab nationalism and felt increasing pressure from the ASRP to join Egypt. Riad explains that he felt a “deep Syrian commitment to the concept of Arab unity and a ready willingness of the Syrian masses to support the Arab struggle for independence and freedom.”43 Without a clear ideological mandate, Syrian leaders attempted to remain neutral. In the initial months of the debate, Syria deflected pressure from both sides with deft diplomacy. Syrian officials traveled across the region expressing concern for both camps but remaining noncommittal. At a meeting in Cairo in January 1955, Egyptian Major Salah Salim described the Syrians’ adroit positioning: The Syrians were equivocal. Their representatives, the aged Faris alKhuri and his Foreign Minister Faydi al-Atasi, agreed not to commit Syria to any foreign alliance, but they would not go so far as to condemn Nuri al-Sa’id [of Iraq]. They maintained that he was quite free to do as 41

BBC, no. 486, 21 July 1954 in Seale, The Struggle for Syria: A Study of Post-War Arab Politics 1945-1958, 198. 42 Letter from Mahmoud Riad to Patrick Seale, Cairo, Jan 1961 in Seale, The Struggle for Syria: A Study of Post-War Arab Politics 1945-1958, 222. 43 Mahmoud Riad, The Struggle for Peace in the Middle East (London: Quartet Books, 1981), 8.

Tapline, Syria, and the Suez Crisis

he pleased in his country.44

Syria emphasized the importance of independent sovereignty and promoted Arab unity. In an official communiqué, Syrian Foreign Minister al-Atasi explained that Syria would not side with “either of the two Arab ‘camps,’” and that Syria would make “every effort not to allow any rupture or increase of tension.”45 In the earliest phases of the debate, Syrian leaders lacked the domestic support necessary to adopt a position and thereby adhered to a policy of cordial neutrality. In February 1955, the Syrian left made significant gains in the parliamentary elections, bringing leaders to power with a mandate to initiate a drift into the Egyptian camp. Syrian leaders began to foster stronger ties with Egypt, but still made efforts to appease Iraqi concerns. In early March, Syrian and Egyptian officials met in Damascus for a series of talks that concluded in a joint statement opposing the Baghdad Pact.46 Days later, however, Syria sent a delegation to Baghdad to express the nation’s “sincere and brotherly feelings towards Iraq ... and its earnest desire that sincerity, understanding and concord should prevail among all of them.”47 As the left consolidated their gains in Parliament, however, Syrian-Egyptian relations increasingly warmed. In October 1955, Syria joined Egypt and Saudi Arabia in signing a mutual defense agreement.48 While this pact was largely symbolic, it firmly established Syria’s orientation towards Egypt and dealt a blow to Iraq’s regional aspirations. By forming this alliance, Saudi Arabia was able to secure two of its essential foreign interests: it fortified its anti-Iraq defenses and ensured the security of its oil flow through Tapline. The Saudis considered the Hashemite’s hegemonic aspirations to be a direct threat to the balance of power in the region; an alliance with Egypt and Syria offered the Saudis an ideal counterweight to the Iraqi offensive.49 Moreover, a strong Syrian-Saudi relationship was vital for the Kingdom’s economy, as approximately thirty-five percent of its oil exports flowed through Tapline.50 The security pact prompted a massive influx of loans and bribes from Saudi Arabia in order to strengthen the Syrian-Saudi connection. The funds were intended to solidify official Syrian support, as well as secure the loyalty of targeted officials. In November 1955, Saudi Arabia completed a $10 million loan agreement with Syria and postponed the repayment of a prior loan.51 Covertly, Saudi Arabia was bribing top Syrian officials, including President Quwatly.52 Saudi bribery was incredibly pervasive, which was especially frustrating to the Iraqis. In a meeting with US Ambassador Waldemar Gallman, Iraqi President Nuri al-Sa’id cited Saudi bribery and intrigue as “big contributing factors in keeping the situation unsettled and dangerous Letter from Salah Salim to Patrick Seale, London, 12 April 1960 in 1961 in Seale, The Struggle for Syria: A Study of Post-War Arab Politics 1945-1958, 216. 45 Faidi al-Atassi, “Communique Issues by the Syrian Foreign Minister, Faidi al-Atassi, on Syrian Policy at the Arab League Conference, 8 February 1955,” Documents on International Affairs: 1955, ed. Noble Frankland (London: Oxford University Press, 1958), 324. 46 “Communique on Talks Between Syria and Egypt, Damascus, 2 March 1955,” Documents on International Affairs: 1955, 326. 47 “Joint Statement on the Syrian-Iraqi Talks, Baghdad, 19 March 1955,” Documents on International Affairs: 1955, 327. 48 “Egyptian-Syrian Mutual Defense Pact, 20 October 1955, Egyptian-Saudi Arabian Mutual Defense Pact, 27 October 1955,” Documents in International Affairs: 1955, 328. 49 James Moose, “Telegram From the Embassy in Syria to the Department of State, 14 Oct. 1955,” Foreign Relations of the United States 1955-1957: The Near East: Jordan-Yemen, 555. 50 Lenczowski, Oil and State in the Middle East, 25. 51 Seale, The Struggle for Syria: A Study of Post-War Arab Politics 1945-1958 , 254. 52 Sonoko Sunayama, Syria and Saudi Arabia: Collaboration and Conflicts in the Oil Era (London: Tauris Academic Studies, 2007), 25. 44

Michael Schwartz

... [and] wishes it could be stopped.” The United States and Britain shared a similar sentiment, yet there seemed to be little any state could do to halt the Saudis’ subversive efforts.54 Saudi loans and bribery effectively infiltrated the Syrian political system, forging a strong relationship with the Syrian leadership. Syria’s alliance with Egypt and Saudi Arabia was a key factor in the nation’s decision to preserve Tapline during the Suez Crisis. Syria faced steep pressure from both nations to maintain the flow of oil through Tapline, despite its status as a symbol of Western infiltration and Palestinian oppression. Egypt’s pressures were primarily politically motivated, while Saudi Arabia’s were economically motivated. Because the United States opposed the British-French-Israeli attack on Egypt, the Egyptians wanted to acknowledge America’s support. While Egypt was becoming increasingly pro-Soviet — especially during the Suez Crisis — Nasser continued to pursue his neutralist agenda and was grateful that the Americans actively opposed the invasion. As a result, when the Egyptian students broadcast their message to sabotage oil pipelines across the region, Nasser made a point to ensure that Tapline would be protected. Mohamed Heikal, a leading Egyptian journalist and confidant of Nasser, explained: 53

It had been arranged before the invasion that the Syrians would blow up both the IPC and the Tapline pipelines when they received a coded signal from Nasser and so cut off Europe’s oil supplies. Sarraj asked for permission to blow up the lines when the action started and Nasser agreed, sending the coded signal. But after sending the message, the President remembered that it referred to both pipelines, one of which, the Tapline, was American. So, as the Americans had come out so strongly in favor of Egypt and against Britain and France, he did not want to anger the Americans and was forced to send a hurried message telling Sarrai to blow only the IPC line.55

While Heikal’s account is only one piece of the story, it does reveal that Syria and Egypt had been coordinating plans, and by the Suez Crisis, had established a unified military strategy. Egyptian pressure was a crucial part of Syria’s decision to sabotage the IPC pipeline while preserving Tapline, despite the wave of Arab nationalist fervor sweeping across the region. Saudi Arabia, on the other hand, wanted to ensure that the flow of Saudi oil would remain uninterrupted to protect the Kingdom’s economic interests. A number of reports confirm that King Saud was concerned about the potential sabotage of Tapline, and made a concerted effort to make his stance clear to the Syrians.56 Furthermore, American opposition to the British-French-Israeli invasion allowed the Saudis to distinguish American oil interests from those of Britain and France. Consequently, Saud pressured Syria to safeguard the American Tapline, while closing down the British ARAMCO-BAPCO pipeline.57 Saudi Arabia effectively manipulated the politics of the Suez Crisis to protect its vital oil interests. Waldemar Gallman, “Telegram from the Embassy in Iraq to the Department of State, 11 Oct. 1955,” Foreign Relations of the United States 1955-1957: The Near East: Jordan-Yemen, 549. 54 “Memorandum of Conference, The President and Sir Anthony Eden, Plus Top Advisers, 2 February 1956,” Declassified Documents Reference System (accessed 26 February 2012), 2. 55 Mohamed Heikal, The Cairo Documents: The Inside Story of Nasser and His Relationship with World Leaders, Rebels, and Statesmen (New York: Doubleday, 1973), 113. 56 “Special National Intelligence Estimate, 5 Sept. 1956” Foreign Relations of the United States 1955-1957: Suez Crisis July 26 - December 31, 1956, ed. John Glennon (Washington, DC: United States Government Printing Press, 1990), 389. 57 Finnie, Desert Enterprise: The Middle East Oil Industry in its Local Environment, 88. 53

Tapline, Syria, and the Suez Crisis

With intense pressure emanating from Egypt and Saudi Arabia, Syria decided to preserve Tapline, while sabotaging the IPC pipeline. Syria’s alliance with the two states was essential for the state’s positioning within the region. Syria’s relationship with Saudi Arabia, in particular, was vital as Syria began to enter negotiations with its fellow transit states beginning in the summer of 1956. While not directly involved in the fee negotiations, Egyptian interests were highly relevant to the Syrian leadership because of Saudi Arabia’s support for Egypt and Nasser’s growing ideological appeal in the Syrian public. The British IPC pipeline, however, did not enjoy similar protections. By November 1956, Syria had abandoned its neutral regional position and stood firmly within the Egyptian camp. Iraqi and British interests were of little concern to the Syrian leadership, and moreover, the pipeline company failed to position itself as effectively as Tapline.58 With anti-imperialist Arabism sweeping across the region, the IPC pipeline was an easy target for Syrian leaders wishing to stand in solidarity without suffering political consequences. Tapline’s shrewd positioning, in contrast, increased the importance of Syria’s relationship with Egypt and Saudi Arabia, ultimately preserving the pipeline from nationalist sabotage. Cold War Posturing: Preserving the Neutralist Façade The Syrian decision to protect Tapline must also be considered within the context of the Cold War in the Middle East. Syria’s pivotal role in the Baghdad Pact debate attracted the attention of the United States and Soviet Union, and thrust the state into the center of the superpower struggle. Syria’s alliance with Egypt in 1955 facilitated the state’s warming relations with the Soviet Union, prompting the concern of the United States. Despite increasingly closer ties with the Soviet Union, Syrian leaders professed a neutralist foreign policy that allowed them to maintain the flow of American aid and solidify their relationship with Egypt. When the Suez Crisis erupted in 1956, the United States came out against the British-French-Israeli invasion in an effort to position itself vis-à-vis the Soviet Union and secure its oil interests. In addition to its regional jockeying, Syria’s decision to preserve Tapline was a gesture of support for the United States as Syria teetered into the Soviet orbit. Syria’s strategic value in the Middle East after the proposal of the Baghdad Pact sparked the interest of the United States and the Soviet Union. Syria’s pivotal role in the debate inserted the state into the superpower struggle in the Middle East, as each state attempted to bolster its position in the region. A National Security Council report in July 1955 cited the concerning “growth of Soviet influence in Syria ... over the past year and a half,”59 while the Soviet press reported fears of the United States “exerting strong pressure on Syria” to join the Baghdad Pact.60 As mutual suspicions of interference increased, both superpowers amplified their efforts to exert influence over Syria. The Soviet Union made an offensive push to foster economic, military, and political ties with Syria. Soviet leaders recognized Syria’s key role in determining the balance of power in the Arab world and took advantage of anti-Western sentiment in Syria to foster deeper relations. In March of 1955, Soviet Foreign Minister Vyacheslav Molotov declared that the USSR would offer Syria “aid in any form whatsoever,”61 Benjamin Shwadran, The Middle East, Oil and the Great Powers (New York: Halsted Press, 1973), 468. 59 “Paper Prepared by the Operations Coordinating Board Working Group on National Security Council Action 1290-d, 7 July 1955” Foreign Relations of the United States 1955-1957: The Near East: Jordan-Yemen, 531. 60 “U.S. Presses Syria to Join N. East Bloc,” Moscow, Soviet Near Eastern Services, 10 March 1955. Foreign Broadcast Information Service (accessed 26 February 2012). 61 Miles Copeland, The Game of Nations: The Amorality of Power Politics (London, Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1969), 186. 58

Michael Schwartz

and by the end of the year, the two countries had signed a trade agreement. The Soviet Union and Syria also negotiated a number of arms deals, beginning with the purchase of Mark IV tanks just two months after the proposal of the Baghdad Pact.63 Highranking leaders of both countries regularly made official visits, and in March of 1956, Syria established official diplomatic ties with the Soviet Union. Syrian Ambassador Jamal al-Farr was received by the Kremlin and declared that his new position was “an indication of the resolve to strengthen our friendly relations and to achieve the widest measure of understanding in our relationship.”64 The relationship proved to be highly profitable for Syria, offering the nation economic and military support as well as international political leverage. Syrian leaders, however, were careful to assert that their relationship with the Soviet Union was based on mutual interests and not on a shared communist ideology. Al-‘Azm explained: 62

Syria distinguished between international affairs and internal social and political questions. It was only on the international level that we were prepared to go along with the Communists ... Our approach to the Soviet Union was then strictly non-doctrinaire.65

Syria strove to maintain its neutralist foreign policy in order to preserve its relationship with Nasser, who promoted non-alignment, and with the United States, which was wary of Soviet penetration. According to Miles Copeland, CIA Station Chief in Damascus, Nasser and US officials frequently met to discuss the Soviets’ rising influence in Syria.66 To Nasser, superpower alignment undermined Egypt’s regional influence; to the United States, Soviet advances threatened American power and oil interests. In light of Syria’s increasingly cozy relationship with the Soviet Union, Syrian leaders relied on concentrated diplomacy to assuage the concerns of Nasser and the United States. In a letter to Eisenhower, King Saud spoke on behalf of Syria to assure the President: Syria is a genuine Arab country whose people (both Moslems and Christians) adhere to their religious creeds. It is impossible for this country to adopt the communist system . . . I assure Your Excellency that Syria’s policy is based on positive neutrality which does not imply antagonism toward the West, and especially not toward the United States. On the contrary, Syria has every desire to cooperate with the United States.67

A façade of neutralism was essential for Syria’s positioning within the region and also enabled the country to keep the door open for support from the United States. Syrian leaders, therefore, exploited fears of Soviet infiltration to extract American aid and bolster their neutralist credentials. The United States readily complied, eager to strengthen its standing in Syria. In late 1955, Chief of Staff Shuqayr “USSR, Syria Sign One-Year Accord,” Moscow, Soviet Near Eastern Service, 16 November 1955. Foreign Broadcast Information Service (accessed 26 February 2012). 63 George Allen, “Memorandum From the Assistant Secretary of State for Near Eastern, South Asian, and African Affairs (Allen) to the Secretary of State, 25 June 1956,” Foreign Relations of the United States 1955-1957: The Near East: Jordan-Yemen, 576. 64 “Voroshilov Receives Syrian Ambassador,” Moscow, Soviet Near Eastern Services, 20 March 1956. Foreign Broadcast Information Service (accessed 26 February 2012). 65 Letter from Khalid al-‘Azm to Patrick Seale, Damascus, 8 November 1960 in Seale, The Struggle for Syria: A Study of Post-War Arab Politics 1945-1958, 220. 66 Copeland, The Game of Nations: The Amorality of Power Politics, 185. 67 “Letter from King Saud to President Eisenhower, 17 Dec. 1956,” Declassified Documents Reference System (accessed 26 February 2012), 3-4. 62

Tapline, Syria, and the Suez Crisis

personally requested to negotiate an arms purchase with the United States in light of increasing pressure to buy military equipment from the Soviets.68 The US State Department supported an arms sale, as it would “give Chief of Staff Shuqayr and others favoring maintaining good relations with the West at least some basis for the position that good relations with the West pay dividends.”69 Syrian officials pressured the United States for support on several occasions to block Soviet aid. In the summer of 1956, for example, Syria urged the United States to top Soviet bids to finance an oil refinery.70 American aid was essential for Syria to promote its supposed neutralist foreign policy, while allowing the state to reap the benefits from playing the two superpowers off of one another. When the Suez Crisis erupted in July 1956, the United States firmly opposed intervention in order to preserve its standing in the region, particularly with Syria. In addition to checking Soviet encroachment, a favorable relationship with Syria was essential for securing United States’ oil interests. According to the US State Department, even nominal support for Britain, France, and Israel during the crisis could cast the United States as an ally of imperialism and threaten American interests in the region.71 The State Department specifically identified Tapline as a potential target if the United States joined in the invasion.72 After the closure of the Suez Canal, Tapline became the key link for oil shipments in the region. Access to Middle Eastern oil was essential for the United States, especially for the Marshall Plan to rebuild Western Europe in the wake of World War II. According to Assistant Secretary of the Interior Felix Wormser, the United States had “invested close to $50 billion in the economic and industrial rehabilitation of our friends in Western Europe. The investment will be lost if our friends in Western Europe can not be supplied with petroleum products.”73 The Marshall Plan was a major United States initiative intended to prevent Western Europe from falling under Soviet influence; therefore, the interruption of oil supplies threatened to undermine the United States’ policy to curb the Soviet offensive. Tapline, consequently, was a vital American interest that played a significant role in Eisenhower’s decision to oppose intervention in the Suez Crisis. Syria’s protection of Tapline was a clear gesture of friendship to the United States intended to sustain the two countries’ relationship. Since the country was increasingly falling into the Soviet orbit, Syrian leaders acknowledged the strategic importance of facilitating ties with the United States. Syria’s relationship with the United States offered substantial economic benefit as well as capital for politicians paying lip service to Nasser’s neutralist policy. Eisenhower’s opposition to intervention in the Suez Crisis was applauded across Syria; President Quwatly publicly praised the United States for its “regard for principle and its opposition to aggression and use of force. He emphasized Arab appreciation [for] recent US acts as were as hope James Moose, “Telegram From the Embassy in Syria to the Department of State, 10 Sept 1955,” Foreign Relations of the United States 1955-1957: The Near East: Jordan-Yemen, 541. 69 “Operations Coordinating Board: Courses of Action Against Communism in Syria, 27 Jan. 1956,” Declassified Documents Reference System (accessed 26 February 2012), 3. 70 George Allen, “Memorandum From the Assistant Secretary of State for Near Eastern, South Asian, and African Affairs (Allen) to the Under Secretary of State (Hoover), 16 July 1956,” Foreign Relations of the United States 1955-1957: The Near East: Jordan-Yemen, 582. 71 “Special National Intelligence Estimate, 5 Sept. 1956” Foreign Relations of the United States 1955-1957: Suez Crisis July 26 - December 31, 1956, 389. 72 Ibid. 73 Felix Wormser, “Report to the Secretary of the Interior From the Director of the Voluntary Agreement, as Amended May 8, 1956, Relating to Foreign Petroleum Supply” in Shoshana Klebanoff, Middle East Oil and U.S. Foreign Policy: With Special Reference to the U.S. Energy Crisis (New York: Praeger Publishers, 1974), 129. 68

Michael Schwartz

for application [of] US principles in [the] Arabs favor.” Recognizing the value of the pipeline to American interests, Syria’s decision to preserve Tapline effectively positioned the country vis-à-vis Nasser and the United States. The IPC pipeline, in contrast, lacked the political relevance in the context of the Cold War to warrant similar protection. British interests were of less concern to Syrian leaders, and Britain’s invasion into Egypt only added fuel to the fire. Appeasing American interests, on the other hand, was essential for Syria’s posturing; consequently, Syrian leaders used the protection of Tapline as a strategic maneuver. 74

Conclusion Syria effectively leveraged Tapline’s politics to position itself in the midst of the inter-Arab rivalries and Cold War superpower struggles embroiling the region. The heated ratification debate propelled Tapline into the Syrian national consciousness, prompting legitimate fears that the pipeline could be a target of Arab nationalists during the Suez Crisis. Tapline’s finesse in the transit fee negotiations, however, forced Syria to reconsider its relationships within the region. Syria’s decision to align with Egypt and Saudi Arabia ushered Syria into the Soviet orbit, yet its economic interests and neutralist politicking motivated the country to maintain its American connection. When the Suez Crisis erupted in 1956, Syria found itself tangled within the web of power dynamics surrounding the country. Ultimately, Tapline was a strategic tool, the protection of which allowed Syria to tactically position itself among the array of conflicting interests. In the years following independence, Syria certainly struggled to maintain stability and assert positive agency in its affairs. Its domestic fragility undermined the development of a unified national vision. Nevertheless, to reduce Syrian decisionmaking to a single interest would neglect the adroit politicking the country so skillfully displayed. At the crossroads of the Arab world, Syria has consistently found itself at the nexus of both regional and international struggles. While the country lacked the internal strength to advance its interests, Syria was able to navigate many pressures and exploit its perceived “political donation.”75 Indeed, Syria was not a passive state dominated by foreign interests; rather, as Tapline and the Suez Crisis reveal, Syria strategically positioned itself to capitalize on the ideological and geopolitical value of the pipeline.

James Moose, “Telegram From the Embassy of Syria to the Secretary of State, 8 November 1956,” Declassified Documents Reference System (accessed 26 February 2012), 1-2. 75 Sunayama, Syria and Saudi Arabia: Collaboration and Conflicts in the Oil Era, 27. 74

Tapline, Syria, and the Suez Crisis

Works Cited “Arab Nations Plan Petroleum Talks.” New York Times, 31 July 1956. Proquest (accessed 26 February 2012). “Army Command Statement.” Daily Report, 25 Feb 1954. Foreign Broadcast Information Service (accessed 26 February 2012). “Army Warns Atasi to End Cabinet Crisis.” Baghdad, Iraqi Home Service, 14 June 1954. Foreign Broadcast Information Service (accessed 26 February 2012). Copeland, Miles. The Game of Nations: The Amorality of Power Politics. London, Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1969. “Daily Report.” Cairo, Voice of the Arabs, 1 Nov 1956. Foreign Broadcast Information Service (accessed 26 February 2012). Finnie, David. Desert Enterprise: The Middle East Oil Industry in its Local Environment. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1958. Frankland, Noble, ed. Documents on International Affairs: 1955. London: Oxford University Press, 1958. Glennon, John, ed. Foreign Relations of the United States 1952-1954: The Near and Middle East, Vol. IX Part I. Washington, DC: United States Government Printing Press, 1986. Glennon, John, ed. Foreign Relations of the United States 1955-1957: Near East: Jordan-Yemen, Vol. XIII. Washington, DC: United States Government Printing Press, 1988. Glennon, John, ed. Foreign Relations of the United States 1955-1957: Suez Crisis July 26-December 31, 1956, Vol. XVI. Washington, DC: United States Government Printing Press, 1990. Hartshorn, J.E. Oil Companies and Governments: An Account of the International Oil Industry in its Political Environment. London: Faber and Faber, 1962. Heikal, Mohamed. The Cairo Documents: The Inside Story of Nasser and His Relationship with World Leaders, Rebels, and Statesmen. New York: Doubleday, 1973. Issawi, Charles and Mohammed Yeganeh, The Economics of Middle Eastern Oil. New York: Praeger, 1962. Klebanoff, Shoshana. Middle East Oil and U.S. Foreign Policy: With Special Reference to the U.S. Energy Crisis. New York: Praeger Publishers, 1974. Lenczowski, George. Oil and State in the Middle East. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1960.

Michael Schwartz

“Letter from King Saud to President Eisenhower, 17 Dec 1956.” Declassified Documents Reference System (accessed 26 February 2012). Lubell, Harold. Middle East Oil Crises and Western Europe’s Energy Supplies. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins, 1963. “Memorandum of Conference, The President and Sir Anthony Eden, Plus Top Advisers, 2 February 1956.” Declassified Documents Reference System (accessed 26 February 2012). Moose, James. “Telegram From the Embassy of Syria to the Secretary of State, 8 November 1956. Declassified Documents Reference System (accessed 26 February 2012). “Oil Concession Attacked.” New York Times, 7 May 1949. Proquest (accessed 26 February 2012). “Operations Coordinating Board: Courses of Action Against Communism in Syria, 27 Jan 1956.” Declassified Documents Reference System (accessed 26 February 2012). “Pipeline Will Pay Syrian Royalty Rise,” New York Times, 7 Feb 1956. Proquest (accessed 26 February 2012). “President Addresses the Egyptian People.” Cairo, Voice of the Arabs, 1 Nov 1956. Foreign Broadcast Information Service (accessed 26 February 2012). Riad, Mahmoud. The Struggle for Peace in the Middle East. London: Quartet Books, 1981. Ross, Albion. “Oil Revenue Rises in Mid-East Region.” New York Times, 3 Jan 1952. Proquest (accessed 26 February 2012). Seale, Patrick. The Struggle for Syria: A Study of Post-War Arab Politics 1945-1958. London: Oxford University Press, 1965. Shwadran, Benjamin. The Middle East, Oil and the Great Powers. New York: Halsted Press, 1973. Sunayama, Sonoko. Syria and Saudi Arabia: Collaboration and Conflicts in the Oil Era. London: Tauris Academic Studies, 2007. “Syria Blocks Pact on U.S. Oil Transit.” New York Times, 19 Dec 1947. Proquest (accessed 26 February 2012). “Syria Conditions Pipeline.” New York Times, 16 Jan 1948. Proquest (accessed 26 February 2012). “Syria Eyeing Pipelines.” New York Times, 24 Jan 1955. Proquest (accessed 26 February 2012). Tapline: The Story of the World’s Biggest Oil Pipeline. New York: Trans-Arabian Pipe Line Company, 1951.

Tapline, Syria, and the Suez Crisis

“U.S. Presses Syria to Join N. East Bloc.” Moscow, Soviet Near Eastern Services, 10 March 1955. Foreign Broadcast Information Service (accessed 26 February 2012). “USSR, Syria Sign One-Year Accord.” Moscow, Soviet Near Eastern Service, 16 November 1955. Foreign Broadcast Information Service (accessed 26 February 2012). “Voroshilov Receives Syrian Ambassador.” Moscow, Soviet Near Eastern Services, 20 March 1956. Foreign Broadcast Information Service (accessed 26 February 2012).

Silenced Secession: The Cabindan Tragedy Kelly Tropin This paper first proposes a legal framework for dealing with secessionist claims and then applies it to the case of Cabinda, a small yet enormously wealthy Angolan exclave. By providing a legal framework for evaluating a groups’ right to secession, the paper presents an alternate method of dealing with secessionist movements. However, the paper concludes that even though Cabinda has a strong legal basis for secession, it is unlikely to achieve independence because two of the world’s greatest powers, the United States and China, have invested heavily in Angolan oil and will work to uphold the status quo. Though other states have less at stake in Cabinda, they will not recognize it as an equal because they do not want to risk their own security by aggravating these two great powers. Therefore, even though Cabinda has a strong legal justification for secession, Cabinda will remain an Angolan exclave. The paper thereby demonstrates that statehood is ultimately a reflection of great powers’ interests, not the local government’s capacity to rule or its legal right to secede.

Introduction State creation is not a regulated process: the international community has no firm standards by which it evaluates an aspiring state’s claim to sovereignty and has no established system of granting statehood. For this reason, as political scientist James Fearon notes in a study of separatist movements, the “‘western powers’ approach [to secession] has been ad hoc” and its responses to separatist claims have been marked by a lack of definitive action.1 In a similar attempt to understand the process by which states are born, political scientist Bridget Coggins argues that “there is often little perceptible difference between states and non-states; disagreements over the legitimate members of the international community are common; and political wrangling among states… frequently determine when and whether aspiring states will succeed.”2 These scholars’ observations point to the lack of an established system guiding state recognition. When a territory gains recognition by a sufficient number of states, the international community will regard it as an equal, and it will thereby gain statehood. Thus, states’ individual decisions determine whether an aspiring state will achieve independence. When confronted with a secessionist demand, an observer state can make one of two choices: (a) recognize statehood or (b) maintain the status quo by dismissing the secessionist movement’s claim to independence. However, because there are no clear standards by which states may judge a group’s potential for statehood, self-interest is the most important factor in a state’s decision. At this point, legal and normative frameworks for evaluating statehood remain rudimentary at best and are therefore largely disregarded. Thus, if 1

J.D. Fearon, “Separatist Wars, Partition, and World Order,” Forthcoming in Security Studies (2004): 1. 2 B. Coggins, “Friends in High Places: International Politics and the Emergence of States from Secessionism,” Forthcoming in International Organization 65, no. 3 (2011). Kelly Tropin is a Government major with a minor in African Studies. Her primary academic interest centers on resource management and conflict in African states. After graduation, Kelly hopes to pursue a PhD in Political Science. This paper was written for Professor Coggins’ seminar, Secession and StateCreation.

Silenced Secession

it is advantageous for a powerful international actor to recognize a prospective state, statehood is likely. If, however, it is disadvantageous for an international actor to recognize a new state, it is likely to maintain the status quo.3 This paper will propose an alternate legal framework for dealing with secession in general and will then apply it to the case of Cabinda, a tiny yet enormously wealthy Angolan exclave. This exercise will demonstrate that Cabinda does indeed have a legal right to secession. However, the paper concludes it is highly unlikely that this territory will be granted independence because powerful states maintain a vested interest in upholding the status quo. In this way, the Cabindan case demonstrates that the international system will continue to favor the interests of powerful states over any legal justification for secession. Understanding Statehood Before evaluating whether a secessionist group is worthy of statehood, it is first necessary to establish what statehood means, the conditions necessary for statehood, and the process by which states are recognized. This essay will rely on Max Weber’s classic definition of the state as an agency within society possessing a monopoly of legitimate violence.4 States have also been described as sovereign entities, wielding supreme power within a defined territory. In an essay on sovereignty, Hans Morgantheau explains that this power endows a state with a freedom “to manage its internal and external affairs according to its discretion.” Such sovereignty exists in many forms: states may possess international legal sovereignty, domestic sovereignty, and Westphalian sovereignty.5 International legal sovereignty implies that states will not meddle in another state’s affairs while domestic sovereignty alludes to control over legitimate use of violence. Westphalian sovereignty refers to the right to autonomously determine domestic affairs. Critically, not all states possess all forms of sovereignty. Stronger states will possess more forms of sovereignty, but some weak states may only possess a few.6 It is also important to note that some forms of sovereignty, such as international legal and Westphalian sovereignty, are not awarded until a state is recognized as such by the international community. On the other hand, an aspiring state may possess domestic sovereignty even before it is granted statehood. The Montevideo Conventions on the Rights and Duties of States, developed in 1933, outlined four conditions for statehood that relate to domestic sovereignty. These include: (1) a permanent population; (2) a defined territory; (3) a government; and (4) capacity to enter relations with other states.7 These conditions, however, can only mark a state’s de facto statehood; they do not translate into de jure statehood. Put simply, an aspiring state can operate effectively domestically, but still be denied entrance into the international system. It is for this reason that Coggins argues, “it is the mutual exchange of recognition that constitutes membership, not effective, domestic-level authority”8 and that “external legitimacy is the fundamental distinguishing feature between states and non-states.”9 In other words, statehood is not a reflection of capacity, but of international 3

Ibid, 22-23. M. Weber, The Theory of Social and Economic Organization (New York, NY: The Free Press, 1964). 5 S. Krasner, interview by Harry Kreisler, Conversations with History Series, UC Berkeley, March 31, 2003. 6 States suffering from civil strife, for example, might not enjoy domestic sovereignty. 7 Montevideo Convention on the Rights and Duties of States. Signed at Montevideo, 26 December 1933. Entered into force, 26 December 1934. 8 Coggins, “Friends in High Places,” 20. 9 Ibid, 40. 4

Kelly Tropin

recognition. So, while a potential state may fulfill all the duties required of a state, it may still be denied sovereignty. The converse is also true: a state may be recognized by the international community, thereby gaining international legal and Westphalian sovereignty, even if it does not possess domestic sovereignty. Many legal theorists have argued for a declaratory theory of statehood, in which recognition is only a declaration of statehood that has already been established in the domestic realm. This conception of state recognition is largely unrealistic, however. The opposing constitutive theory of statehood suggests that recognition itself is what consecrates statehood.10 This view more accurately reflects the realities of state recognition. The case study of Cabinda will affirm that statehood does not necessarily reflect an aspiring state’s capacity to rule or a legal right to secede. Statehood is ultimately constitutive, emerging only when the international community decides a territory is worthy of independence. Developing a Legal Framework for Secession In 1970, the UN Declaration on Friendly Relations ordained that, “States shall refrain in their international relations from the threat or use of force against the territorial integrity or political independence of any State” and thereby elevated the territorial integrity of states to a paramount status. Territorial integrity signifies a state’s right to the security of its borders and implies permanence to the international ordering of states. Yet despite the UN’s emphasis on the inviolability of state borders, there are indeed cases where a state’s borders should be redrawn and nations granted the right to secede. While it is true that “consent is the only fully legal means by which secession can regularly occur,”11 there are indeed exceptional circumstances under which secession is legally necessary. In fact, I will argue that there are three situations where a nation should be granted the legal right to secede: first, under colonial circumstances; second, when the nation cannot pursue its right to self-determination while still existing within the parent state; and third, when a parent state can no longer exercise its right to territorial integrity. Secession from colonial powers is the most widely accepted form of secession. For the purposes of this essay, I will define a colony as a territory that is unwillingly subjugated to foreign rule, oppressed by the colonial center, and oftentimes exploited in terms of labor or natural resources. In most cases, colonies are also denied meaningful participation in the central government.12 The international community committed itself to eliminating colonialism when the UN issued a Declaration on the Granting of Independence to Colonial Countries and Peoples in 1960. This declaration proclaimed “the necessity of bringing to a speedy and unconditional end colonialism in all its forms and manifestations.”13 It continued to state that, “the subjugation of peoples to alien subjugation, domination and exploitation constitutes a denial of fundamental human rights.”14 The international community did not simply acknowledge the right of colonial peoples to secede, however; it also assumed responsibility for helping former colonized achieve statehood. In fact, the UN Charter’s Declaration Regarding NonSelf Governing Territories states that members of the organization are obligated, “to 10

B. Coggins, Lecture, Dartmouth College, 2/2/12. Coggins, “Friends in High Places,” 15-16. 12 To develop this definition, I have drawn from the UN Declaration on the Granting of Independence to Colonial Countries and Peoples and In the Matter of Section 43 of the Supreme Court Act (Reference re Secession of Quebec), 1998, 2 S.C.R. 217. 13 United Nations. Declaration on the Granting of Independence to Colonial Countries and Peoples. New York, 14 December 1960. 14 Ibid. 11

Silenced Secession

assist them in the progressive development of their free political institutions.”15 In this way, the international community made a clear commitment to restoring sovereignty to formerly colonized peoples. The 1960 Declaration also states that, “All peoples have the right to selfdetermination; by virtue of that right they freely determine their political status and freely pursue their economic, social and cultural development.” Consequently, as Diane Orentlicher explains, “self determination was transformed from a principle into a legal right.”16 However, though the UN’s commitment to awarding statehood to former colonies is unambiguous, it did not clearly define what other rights arose from the right to self-determination. Self-determination could mean anything from political representation to full independence. Thus, determining the end-result of the right to self-determination has largely been left to the discretion of the international community and has been articulated on a case-by-case basis In an attempt to clarify the conditions under which the secession of Quebec would be permissible, the Canadian Supreme Court created a useful framework for determining the rights associated with self-determination. Though the Court based its findings off the Quebecois case, its conclusions provide a useful template for evaluating other secessionist claims. The justices concluded that a people’s right to self-determination is normally fulfilled through internal self-determination. The Court then defined internal self-determination as a “people’s pursuit of its political, economic, social and cultural development within the framework of an existing state.”17 On the other hand, a people’s right to external self-determination, which most often takes the form of the right to unilateral secession, only arises in “the most extreme of cases.”18 After defining internal and external self-determination in this way, the Court found three situations in which a right to external self-determination might arise. These include: “situations of former colonies; where a people is oppressed, as for example under foreign military occupation; or where a definable group is denied meaningful access to government to pursue their political, economic, social and cultural development.”19 Though developed in relation to Quebec’s secession, these conditions can be applied to all questions of state formation to determine when external self-determination by way of secession is legally justifiable. Also critical to the argument for external self-determination is an understanding of territorial integrity and the circumstances under which a state may lose this right. However, before entering a discussion of when territorial integrity is lost, it is first necessary to note that the right to territorial integrity only protects state’s borders from other states. The Declaration on Friendly Relations states: “The territory of a State shall not be the object of acquisition by another State resulting from the threat or use of force”20 [emphasis mine]. Seen in this light, the Declaration on Friendly Relations cannot provide grounds for defending state boundaries against seceding groups, for secessionist movements are, by definition, not yet states. While the Declaration may 15

United Nations, “Charter of the United Nations,” 24 October 1945, 1 UNTS XVI, available at http://www.un.org/en/documents/charter/chapter11.shtml. 16 D. Orentlicher, “International Responses to Separatist Claims,” in Secession and SelfDetermination, edited by S. Macedo & A. Buchanan, 19-49. (New York, NY: New York University Press, 2003): 22. 17 In the Matter of Section 43 of the Supreme Court Act (Reference re Secession of Quebec), 1998, 2 S.C.R. 217, para 126. 18 Ibid. 19 In the Matter of Section 43 of the Supreme Court Act (Reference re Secession of Quebec), 1998, 2 S.C.R. 217, para 138. 20 United Nations. Declaration of General Principles of International Law Concerning Friendly Relations and Cooperation Among States in Accordance with the Charter of the United Nations. New York, 24 October 1970.

Kelly Tropin

defend states from other states intervening on behalf of the secessionists, it does not suggest that state boundaries are immutable. It is also important to consider that are circumstances under which a state may lose its right to territorial integrity. When discussing whether states do indeed have the right to secure boundaries, the Canadian Supreme Court concluded that: “A state whose government represents the whole of the people or peoples resident within its territory, on a basis of equality and without discrimination, and respects the principles of self-determination in its own internal arrangements, is entitled to the protection under international law of its territorial integrity.”21

Thus the converse must also be true: a state that does not respect the principles of self-determination within its own territory is no longer entitled to territorial integrity. Indeed, the Declaration on Friendly Relations also notes that, “subjection of peoples to alien subjugation, domination and exploitation constitutes a violation of the principle, as well as denial of fundamental human rights, and is contrary to the Charter.”22 The declaration continues to say that colonies and other non-self-governing territories have a “status separate and distinct from the territory of the State administering it; and such separate and distinct status under the Charter shall exist until the people… have exercised their right of self-determination in accordance with the Charter.”23 Therefore, a state’s claim to territorial integrity is qualified by two main conditions: first, it only serves as a defense against other states, not secessionist movements and second, it only exists when a state has allowed for internal self-determination. In sum, a secessionist group will have the legal right to secede under two main conditions. First, a group may secede if it is a colony or a non-self-governing territory. Second, it may secede if it has exhausted all possibilities for internal self-determination and has consistently been denied political, economic, social and cultural development by the central government. Finally, it is important to note that territorial integrity only defends states from other states. Therefore, a state cannot claim territorial integrity when it is confronted with a non-state actor, like a secessionist movement. Moreover, even if a state cites territorial integrity as a defense against international involvement in its internal secession conflicts, it would lose this right had it denied the seceding group internal self-determination. The Cabindan Case: Legal Secession? When the Cabindan case is evaluated under this framework, it becomes clear that Cabinda possesses the legal right to secede. First, there is evidence to support the claim that Cabindans are colonized by Angola because (a) they were not legally integrated into Angola; and (b) they continue to be exploited, dominated, and subjugated by the Angolan authorities. Second, even if one rejects the idea that Cabinda still essentially operates as an Angolan colony, one cannot refute the fact that the Cabindans have been denied access to political, economic, social and cultural development within Angola. Because they have been unable to exercise internal self-determination, Cabindans must be granted external self-determination and independence by way of recourse. Finally, the Angolan government, even if it had a natural right to territorial integrity, would lose this right for having denied Cabindans internal self-determination ever since independence in 1975. Thus, its boundaries cannot be considered inviolable. 21

In the Matter of Section 43 of the Supreme Court Act (Reference re Secession of Quebec), 1998, 2 S.C.R. 217, para 130. 22 United Nations. Declaration on Friendly Relations. 23 Ibid.

Silenced Secession

Many leaders of the Cabindan secessionist movement cite the Treaty of Simulambuco, signed between local Cabindan chiefs and Portuguese representatives in 1885, as evidence of their illegal integration into Angola. This treaty turned Cabinda into a Portuguese protectorate as the European great powers divided the African continent amongst themselves. Significantly, the treaty made no reference to the Portuguese colony of Angola. While few agreements in the Partition period “cited the new African colony into which a specific territory might be integrated,”24 the fact remains that the Cabindan people never consented to becoming part of Angola. For this reason, the Cabindan secessionists “consider this treaty as bases legal for their claims with the total release of the Cabindese territory of the Angolan influence.”25 Cabinda was only integrated into Angola because of administrative difficulties in Portugal. As the Portuguese administration grappled with the challenges of administering its two noncontiguous territories, it changed the protectorate’s status seven times between 1917 and 1946. Thus, at times, Cabinda was governed as a separate District with its own Governor and at other times, it was incorporated into the district of Luanda. In 1946, Cabinda became a separate District with its Governor directly dependent on the Governor-General of Angola.26 The administration once again changed its mind in 1956 and officially joined the administrations of its protectorate and colony. This history demonstrates that the Cabindans never consented to Angolan rule and that their integration into the Portuguese colony was simply an arbitrary result of colonial-era administrative difficulties. It is for these reasons that the secessionist leaders claim, “The Republic of Cabinda was never legally integrated into the new colonial patched up nation so called Angola after the end of the Portuguese presence in 1974.”27 It is therefore possible to argue that Cabinda remains colonized and that Luanda has simply replaced Lisbon as the administrative center. Because Angola did not treat Cabindan any differently after independence in 1975, Cabinda remains a colony, but of Angola rather than Portugal. Moreover, beyond the question of Cabinda’s legal integration into Angola, it is important to note that Luanda has always treated Cabinda like a colony. By the same token, Cabinda has regarded Luanda as an oppressive colonial power ever since Angolan independence. In the previous section, I established four conditions for a territory’s status as a colony: first, unwilling subjugation to foreign rule; second, oppression by the colonial center; third, exploitation in terms of labor or natural resources; and fourth, exclusion from meaningful political participation in the colonial center. Because Cabinda is subject to all conditions, it must be seen as a colonial dependency. First, the Cabindans see Luanda as a foreign power and have been unwillingly subjugated to its rule ever since Angola’s independence in 1975. When Angola first began fighting to free itself from Portugal rule in 1961, their main resistance group, the Popular Movement for the Liberation of Angola (MPLA), proved unable to elicit support from the Cabindans. They found that, “rural populations largely viewed the MPLA as ‘foreigners’ and fled from the fighting.”28 Rather than lend support to Angola’s liberation, Cabindans coalesced to form their own independence movements. They subsequently founded FLEC in 1963 and began fighting for Cabindan, not Angolan, 24

J .W. Martin, “The Cabinda Connection: A Historical Perspective,” African Affairs 76, no. 302 (1997): 53. 25 Dispatches, Cabinda: State of siege which prevented the celebration of the Luso-Cabindais treaty, last modified February 6, 2006. http://www.cabinda.org/presseang.htm. 26 Martin, “The Cabinda Connection,” 55. 27 Republic of Cabinda, Welcome to the Government of Cabinda, http://www.cabinda.net/. 28 Martin, “The Cabinda Connection: A Historical Perspective,” 57.

Kelly Tropin

independence. When the Treaty of Alvor was signed in Lisbon in 1975, granting Angola independence, FLEC was excluded from the negotiations,29 ostensibly because it was not a true Angolan party. Nevertheless, ever since that date, Cabindans have been subjected to the rule of Angola’s leading party, the MPLA. Secession leaders therefore describe the “Nation of Cabinda” as “being partially invaded by a despot organization called MPLA provenience from a foreign country without any natural borders with Cabinda called Angola.”30 Second, not only has MPLA rule been foreign, it has also been violently oppressive. Secessionist leaders argue that the MPLA regime has been brutally oppressing the Cabindan people and “sponsoring acts of rape and murder in Cabinda.”31 Human Rights Watch’s recent observations in Cabinda have provided ample evidence to support this claim. In a 2009 report, the organization noted that between 2007 and 2009, at least 38 Cabindans “have been subjected to torture and cruel or inhuman treatment in military custody and have been denied basic due process rights as well as the right to a fair trial.”32 The report concluded that, “the military’s systematic arbitrary detention and torture of people in Cabinda suggests that the government has resorted to unlawful means to retaliate against people with perceived sympathy for [FLEC].”33 Thus, the secessionist leaders’ claims that they are oppressed by the Angolan center are well supported by the observations of both the people living on the ground and international organizations. Third, the Cabindan people are clearly exploited by Luanda. Cabinda produces about 60% of the country’s oil,34 but only 10% of the revenues are reinvested in the region (in fact, as late as 1985, Cabindans received just 1% of revenues).35 Luanda is therefore loath to let Cabinda go, especially because oil revenues accounted for roughly 50% of GPD, 95% of exports, and 72% of government revenues in 2010.36 These figures clearly indicate that Angola’s economy and state capacity would be seriously reduced if Cabinda were to secede. However, while Luanda benefits enormously from Cabindan natural resources, Cabindans themselves remain impoverished. The Cabindan people are excluded from the wealth of their natural resources in three ways: first, they are only given a small proportion of direct revenues; second, they are not allowed to work for the multinational oil companies operating off their shores; and third, the foreign workers working in Cabinda live in sealed-off communities and therefore do not support local businesses.37 Thus, while Cabindan natural resources are fundamental to Angola’s economy, Cabinda sees few benefits from their own wealth. For these reasons, secessionist leaders have argued that, “the MPLA Regime is… in essence a criminal organization with the only aim of ripping… the Nation of Cabinda 29

E.M. Jamilah Koné, E. M., “Right of Self-Determination in the Angolan Enclave,” University of Pennsylvania – African Studies Center. Paper presented at the Sixth Annual African Studies Consortium Workshop, October 2, 1998. http://www.africa.upenn.edu/Workshop/kone98.html. 30 Cabinda Free state, “Cabinda National Bank.” February 2006. www.cabinda.info 31 Ibid. 32 Human Rights Watch, “They Put Me in the Hole: Military Detention, Torture, and the Lack of Due Process in Cabinda.” (New York, NY: Human Rights Watch, 2009): 2. 33 Ibid. 34 Cabinda: Oil – Blockbuster, The Washington Post. http://www.washingtonpost.com/wpadv/ specialsales/spotlight/angola/article12.html 35 R. Krott, “Have Gun Will Travel, a Low Life Paid Mercenary.” Retrieved from http://www. cabinda.net/mercenary.htm. 36 U.S. Department of State, “Background Note: Angola,” Bureau of African Affairs (October 13, 2011) 37 Cabinda: Oil – Blockbuster, The Washington Post. http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-adv/ specialsales/spotlight/angola/article12.html.

Silenced Secession

of its wealth, for the benefit of the party members leaders.” 38 In fact, rather than endowing the population with economic security, Cabinda’s natural resources have actually led to their violent oppression by both MPLA forces and multinational oil companies. For this reason, Cabindan secessionists plead Chevron, the largest multinational oil company operating offshore in Cabinda, “Please leave us alone, enough is enough. You are stealing our property, you are raping our women, you are killing our men, you are ending all future hope for the new generation, there is a genocide of the Cabindan People.”39 Though dramatic, this claim is rooted in a tragic reality: as early as 1975, Chevron provided financial backing for the MPLA’s 1975 invasion of Cabinda and then paid MPLA forces to take over Cabindan oil fields.40 In addition to collaborating with violent factions of the MPLA, Chevron now hires private military companies to secure the borders of Malongo, its main operating base.41 Moreover, despite the fact that Angola was one of the first signatories to the International Ban on Mines, a minefield surrounds the entire complex.42 Because the MPLA and Chevron collaborate very closely, the violent oppression caused by one cannot be separated from the tactics of the other. Finally, the Cabindan people have been denied access to the political center and therefore fulfill the fourth condition of colonial status (political exclusion). Both the government’s violent oppression of FLEC and its flagrant disregard of the Cabindan people’s grievances demonstrate that Luanda is trying to silence Cabindan voices in politics. Indeed, one young student living in Cabinda City told reporters, “If… you complain to an official, you are killed, and nobody dares ask that your death be accounted for.”43 In an interview by Human Rights Watch, another young Cabindan affirmed that, “The soldiers are like the wild pigs and the civilian authorities are the domestic pigs. You cannot go to a domestic pig with a complaint about a wild pig.”44 These statements highlight the Cabindan people’s exclusion from politics and central decision-making. It is also significant that Angola’s constitution stipulates that a political party must enjoy support in at least 14 of Angola’s 18 provinces if it is to participate in the domestic process. Because FLEC is very unpopular in mainland Angola, this policy effectively excludes it from central politics.45 Thus, not only are Cabindans excluded from politics on an individual level, but their main representative party is also denied political influence. That being said, Angola has repeatedly offered autonomy to Cabinda. However, “Cabindans do not support Luanda’s offer… because they have seen previous promises come and go while they remain among Angola’s poorest people.”46 Decades of oppression and persistent poverty have taught the Cabindans not to trust Luanda’s offers. For this reason, they have adamantly refused to settle for nothing less than full 38

Republic of Cabinda, Chevron’s slaughter of the innocents: great minds thinks alike. http:// www.cabinda.net/ 39 Ibid. 40 Cabinda, globalsecurity.org, last modified November 7, 2011. http://www.globalsecurity.org/ military/world/war/cabinda.htm. 41 E.M. Jamilah Koné, “Right of Self-Determination in the Angolan Enclave,” University of Pennsylvania – African Studies Center. Paper presented at the Sixth Annual African Studies Consortium Workshop, October 2, 1998. http://www.africa.upenn.edu/Workshop/kone98.html. 42 Journey Man Pictures, “Cabinda-Angola,” January 2010. http://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=hqC8VS4eQjM. 43 Jamilah Koné, “Right of Self-Determination in the Angolan Enclave.” 44 Human Rights Watch, “They Put Me in the Hole,” 26. 45 G. Edward & M. Garztecki. Recent History (Angola), in Europa World online. London, Routledge. Dartmouth College. Retrieved 07 March 2012 from http://www.europaworld.com/entry/ao.hi. 46 Maier, K. Angola: Promises and Lies (London, UK: Serif, 1996), 67

Kelly Tropin

independence. While some might argue that offers of autonomy point to political inclusion, it is highly unlikely that the MPLA would ever grant Cabinda control over its natural resources. Therefore, any offer of autonomy would be qualified. Nevertheless, the MPLA did grant Cabinda political autonomy in 2007 and appointed FLEC leaders to various government positions. However, the Cabindans who ascended to power have consistently been accused of being stooges for the MPLA party. Antonio Bento Bembe, for example, the current Cabindan Minister without Portfolio in Luanda, has often faced such allegations.48 If Bembe and other Cabindans working in Luanda are indeed loyal to the MPLA, Cabinda’s political autonomy cannot be considered legitimate. Therefore, despite apparent autonomy, Cabindans remain excluded from decision-making in Luanda and are only offered limited, if any, meaningful political participation. In sum, evidence on the ground points to the Cabindan people’s unwilling subjugation to Angolan rule, violent oppression, economic exploitation, and political exclusion. For these reasons, Cabinda should be considered an Angolan colony and the international community should award it immediate independence. Such action would align with the statutes put forth by the 1960 Declaration on the Granting of Independence to Colonial Countries and Peoples. This kind of secession would fulfill the first condition for legal secession. However, even if the international community were to deny Cabinda’s colonial status, the exclave could still cite its right to legal secession because it has consistently been denied internal self-determination under Angolan rule. In addition to situations of former colonies, the Canadian Court identified two other situations in which a nation is denied internal self-determination, both of which apply to Cabinda. These include: cases where people are oppressed and circumstances in which a group is denied meaningful access to government to pursue their political, economic, social and cultural development.49 In these cases, according to the Canadian Court’s 1998 conclusions, a nation might be granted external self-determination by way of secession.50 I have already argued that Cabinda should be considered a colony and that it should therefore be able to legally secede from Angola. However, even if Cabinda is denied its colonial status, no informed observer could refute its oppression or inability to pursue political, economic, social, and cultural development. Offers of autonomy have been hollow and FLEC has been denied participation in the democratic process, pointing to Cabinda’s halted political development. Cabindans have also been excluded from most of the wealth generated by their offshore oil and have been unable to pursue their economic development as a result. Their violent oppression has also precluded social and cultural development. In fact, Cabindan secessionist leaders have argued that, “every day our people are tortured, murder, and raped by the Angolan army”51 and that “in order to perpetuate its colonial power over Cabinda… President dos Santos’ [MPLA] regime has no choice but to be killing Cabindan political, civil 47

Cabinda, globalsecurity.org, last modified November 7, 2011; also see Maier, K. Angola: Promises and Lies, 67. 48 Africa Research Bulletin, “Angola: Cabinda Peace Deal,” Economic, Financial and Technical Series 43, no. 9 (2006): 17105A. 49 In the Matter of Section 43 of the Supreme Court Act (Reference re Secession of Quebec), 1998, 2 S.C.R. 217, para 126. 50 The Canadian Court’s resolutions have not yet been incorporated into international law. However, because Court has offered one of the only useful frameworks for determining when secession can be considered legal, I rely on their conclusions in this essay. 51 Republic of Cabinda, Chevron’s slaughter of the innocents: great minds thinks alike. http:// www.cabinda.net/

Silenced Secession

society, and religious leaders until they finally give up.”52 People subject to this kind of rule cannot pursue healthy social and cultural development. Therefore, even if Cabinda cannot be considered an Angolan colony, it still fulfills the Canadian Supreme Court’s other two preconditions for external selfdetermination and legal secession. Finally, it is also important to note that Angola can no longer enjoy a right to territorial integrity because it has not respected the Cabindans’ right to internal self-determination. Therefore, the international community should be allowed to intervene on behalf of the Cabindan people. For all these reasons, Cabinda possesses the legal right to secede from Angola. First, there is ample evidence to support the claim that it still operates as a colony under Angolan rule. Second, it has exhausted the possibilities for internal self-determination under Angolan rule. The Cabindan people have faced continued oppression and been denied political, economic, social and cultural development ever since Luanda assumed power in 1975. Finally, because Angola has violated the Cabindans’ right to internal self-determination, it has lost its right to territorial integrity. In these ways, the Cabindan case fulfills all the necessary preconditions for legal secession and the region should be granted speedy independence from Angolan rule. Predictions, Comparisons, and Implications Before discussing Cabinda’s chances for independence, it is important to briefly review the process by which a nation becomes a state. Though the Montevideo Conventions laid out four conditions for statehood – permanent population, defined territory, government, capacity to enter relations with other states53 – whether or not a group achieves statehood is ultimately dependent upon external recognition. Indeed, as Coggins argues, “for aspiring states, identifying with the group or sharing qualities in common with system members is not enough; they must be recognized by other members.”54 In other words, statehood does not reflect capacity of a potential state to function in the international system. Instead, statehood indicates whether an aspiring state has made enough “friends in high places”55 to gain support for its cause. The case of Cabinda serves as a prime example of the importance of international support. Though Cabinda has a very strong case for legal secession, it is highly likely that it will ever achieve independence because powerful states maintain a vested interest in upholding the status quo in Angola. In 2010, Angola was China’s second-leading source country for crude oil, surpassed only by Saudi Arabia. The United States was the second major importer of Angolan oil and also came to rely heavily on its African partner in 2010.56 Any power shift in Cabinda could jeopardize Chinese and American access to Cabindan oil. These powerful states are therefore likely to oppose any political rearrangements. Cabindan secessionists are aware of this dynamic and have noted that the Angolan “colonial regime is… consistently alienating the Cabindan natural resources particularly crude oil, to the great benefit of certain [foreign] petroleum companies. In compensation, the implicated governments undertake to maintain the MPLA regime and dictatorship’s life for renewed decades.”57 52

Capita, B. “Referring Angola’s International Crimes in Cabinda to: His Excellency Mr. Luis Moreno-Ocampo Prosecutor of the International Criminal Court.” (Berne, Swizterland, 2011): 23. 53 Cabindans have developed a national bank, currency, stamps, passports, and a rudimentary rule of law. See www.cabinda.info. 54 Coggins, “Friends in High Places,” 20. 55 Ibid, 4. 56 U.S. Department of State, “Background Note: Angola,” Bureau of African Affairs (October 13, 2011). 57 Capita, B. “Referring Angola’s International Crimes in Cabinda,” 23.

Kelly Tropin

In essence, because powerful international actors have strong economic incentives to maintain the status quo, they are unlikely to support Cabinda’s legal secession. Further cementing the status quo is the fact that there are no disincentives to maintaining it. In most cases, the international community will intervene on behalf of a secessionist movement if they face significant domestic pressure to do so at home. For example, the Dalai Lama and his Tibetan followers have enjoyed support from Washington because the movement has many sympathizers in the US.58 Similarly, the powerful Armenian diaspora in America has influenced Washington’s decision to support Armenia in Nagorno-Karabakh, despite its trading partnerships with Azerbaijan.59 Cabinda, on the other hand, has been unable to garner any significant international support for its cause. In fact, in its 2009 report, Human Rights Watch noted that, “the involvement of international interlocutors, including that of the U.N. and regional bodies, in seeking a solution to the conflict in Cabinda has been notably absent.”60 The organization partly explains this disengagement by the fact that “the government of Angola has not sought or reportedly wanted international engagement in Cabinda.”61 Cabindan secessionist leaders, however, take a more extreme stance on this issue, arguing that Angola and its allies have “[coerced] the United Nations into hindering Cabinda’s attainment of self-determination and independence.”62 Nevertheless, for whatever the reason, the conflict has garnered little international attention and foreign investors will not face backlash for cooperating with the oppressive MPLA regime. Thus, when it comes to the question of Cabinda’s future status, international investors need only take their economic interests into account. Because they face no international pressure to acknowledge and accommodate the Cabindan people’s needs, pure economic interests will guide their policies in the region. It is also important to note that states face a strong disincentive to recognizing secessionist movements if doing so will increase their domestic insecurity. Coggins explains that, “if a Great Power is beset by secessionist challengers at home, conferring legitimacy upon foreign secessionists sends a similarly dangerous signal in support of separatisms’ legitimacy.”63 China, the largest investor in Angolan oil, faces three significant secessionist movements at home: Tibet, Taiwan and Uyghur. Recognizing a new state in southern Africa would only intensify these secessionist movements’ calls for independence. For this reason, it will prove almost impossible for the Cabindans to rally Chinese support for their cause. Because China is such an important player in Angola, its reluctance to recognize Cabinda’s independence significantly decreases its chances for successful secession. Moreover, if weaker states oppose China’s policy in Cabinda, they are likely to face backlash in Beijing. As Coggins points out, “Powers ought to prefer coordinated recognition to maintain their social standing and security.”6464 No state wants to be alone in recognizing an unpopular secessionist movement, especially if doing so will place it in direct opposition with more powerful actors. Conclusion For these reasons, it is highly unlikely that Cabinda will ever be recognized 58

M.C. Goldstein, “The Dalai Lama’s Dilemma,” Foreign Affairs (1998). A. Rasizade, “Azerbaijan’s Prospects in Nagorno-Karabakh,” Mediterranean Quarterly 22, no. 3 (2011): 93-94. 60 Human Rights Watch. “Angola: Between war and Peace in Cabinda.” (New York, NY: Human Rights Watch, 2009): 26. 61 Ibid, 27. 62 Capita, B. “Referring Angola’s International Crimes in Cabinda,” 4. 63 Coggins “Friends in High Places,” 24. 64 Ibid, 25. 59

Silenced Secession

as a sovereign state. Even though it has a strong legal basis for secession, the international community will not recognize its statehood because such action would oppose powerful actorsâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; self-interest. Therefore, even though Cabinda has a strong legal justification for secession and the local government fulfills commonly recognized conditions of statehood, Cabinda will remain an Angolan exclave. In this way, the Cabindan case demonstrates that the self-interest of powerful states overrides any legal justification for secession. If secession does not align with the self-interest of the great powers, an aspiring state is unlikely to gain the external recognition necessary for official statehood. Therefore, whether a not a secessionist movement is awarded external recognition is ultimately a reflection of great powersâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; interests, not the local governmentâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s capacity to rule or legal right to secede.

Kelly Tropin

Works Cited Africa Research Bulletin, “Angola: Bringing Cabinda In,” Policy and Practice (Blackwell Publishing Ltd. 2007). Africa Research Bulletin, “Angola: Cabinda Crackdown,” Political Social and Cultural Series 47, no. 1. (Blackwell Publishing Ltd., 2007). Africa Research Bulletin, “Angola: Cabinda Peace Deal,” Economic, Financial and Technical Series 43, no. 9 (2006). Alfred, L. “US Foreign Policy and the Angolan Peace.” Africa Today 39, no. 1/2 (1992): 73-88. Cabinda, globalsecurity.org, last modified November 7, 2011. http://www.globalsecurity. org/military/world/war/cabinda.htm. Cabinda: Oil – Blockbuster, The Washington Post. http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-adv/specialsales/spotlight/angola/article12. html Capita, B. “Referring Angola’s International Crimes in Cabinda to: His Excellency Mr. Luis Moreno-Ocampo Prosecutor of the International Criminal Court.” Berne, Swizterland, 2011. Cabinda Free state, “Cabinda National Bank.” February 2006. www.cabinda.info. Canadian Supreme Court. In the Matter of Section 43 of the Supreme Court Act (Reference re Secession of Quebec), 1998, 2 S.C.R. 217. Chabal, P. and N. Vidal, eds. Angola: The Weight of History. New York, NY: Columbia University Press, 2008. Chevron, Angola: In the Community, last modified January 2012. http://www.chevron.com/countries/angola/inthecommunity/ Coggins, B. Lecture, Dartmouth College, 2/2/12. Coggins, B. “Friends in High Places: International Politics and the Emergence of States from Secessionism.” Forthcoming in International Organization 65, no. 3 (2011): 433-467. Dispatches, Cabinda: State of siege which prevented the celebration of the Luso-Cabindais treaty, last modified February 6, 2006. http://www.cabinda.org/presseang.htm. Edward, G. & Garztecki, M. “Recent History (Angola), in Europa World online.” London, Routledge. Dartmouth College. Retrieved 07 March 2012 from http://www. europaworld.com/entry/ao.hi. Fearon, J.D> “Separatist Wars, Partition, and World Order,” Forthcoming in Security Studies (2004): 1-29.

Silenced Secession

Goldstein, M.C. “The Dalai Lama’s Dilemma.” Foreign Affairs (1998). Gulf Oil in Cabinda, Africa Today 17, no. 4 (1970): 20-26. Human Rights Watch. “Angola: Between war and Peace in Cabinda.” New York, NY: Human Rights Watch, 2009. http://reliefweb.int/sites/reliefweb.int/files/resources/ hrw-ago23dec.pdf. Human Rights Watch. “They Put Me in the Hole: Military Detention, Torture, and the Lack of Due Process in Cabinda.” New York, NY: Human Rights Watch, 2009. http:// www.hrw.org/node/83879/section/3. Jamilah Koné, E. M., “Right of Self-Determination in the Angolan Enclave,” University of Pennsylvania – African Studies Center. Paper presented at the Sixth Annual African Studies Consortium Workshop, October 2, 1998. http://www.africa.upenn. edu/Workshop/kone98.html. Journey Man Pictures. “Cabinda-Angola.” January 2010. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hqC8VS4eQjM Krasner, S. Interview by Harry Kreisler. Conversations with History Series. UC Berkeley, March 31, 2003. Krott, R. “Have Gun Will Travel, a Low Life Paid Mercenary.” Retrieved from http://www. cabinda.net/mercenary.htm. Maier, K. Angola: Promises and Lies. London, UK: Serif, 1996. Martin, J.W. “The Cabinda Cabinda Connection: A Historical Perspective.” African Affairs 76, no. 302 (1997): 47-59. Montevideo Convention on the Rights and Duties of States. Signed at Montevideo, 26 December 1933. Entered into force, 26 December 1934. Noble, K.B. “Cabinda Journal; Oil Rich Yet So Poor: Angolan Outpost is Restless.” New York Times, March 24, 1992. Orentlicher, D. “International Responses to Separatist Claims.” In Secession and SelfDetermination, edited by S. Macedo & A. Buchanan, 19-49. New York, NY: New York University Press, 2003. Rasizade, A. “Azerbaijan’s Prospects in Nagorno-Karabakh.” Mediterranean Quarterly 22, no. 3 (2011): 72-94. Republic of Cabinda, “Cabinda National Bank,” www.cabinda.info. Republic of Cabinda, “Chevron’s slaughter of the innocents: great minds thinks alike,” http://www.cabinda.net/. Republic of Cabinda, “International Laws on Self Determination,” http://www.cabinda.net/. Republic of Cabinda, Welcome to the Government of Cabinda, http://www.cabinda.net/. Republic of Cabinda, “ID & Passport: Honorary and Acquired Citizenship,” www.cabinda. info.

Kelly Tropin

United Nations, “Charter of the United Nations,” 24 October 1945, 1 UNTS XVI, available at http://www.un.org/en/documents/charter/chapter11.shtml. United Nations. Declaration of General Principles of International Law Concerning Friendly Relations and Cooperation Among States in Accordance with the Charter of the United Nations. New York, 24 October 1970. United Nations. Declaration on the Granting of Independence to Colonial Countries and Peoples. New York, 14 December 1960. US Department of State, “Background Note: Angola,” Bureau of African Affairs. October 13, 2011. http://www.state.gov/r/pa/ei/bgn/6619.htm#econ Weber, M. The Theory of Social and Economic Organization. New York, NY: The Free Press, 1964.

Tangier, Morocco: A Photo Essay Elena Zinski Tangier, Morocco lies on the northwestern tip of Africa. From her port, the Spanish city of Tarifa can be seen across the Mediterranean. Tourists roam the streets, causing shopkeepers to call out in five different languages while watching for a reaction from potential clients. When this happens to me, I smile and continue on. If they invited me in with Arabic, maybe I would stop. I came to Tangier with a standard list of questions to consider, including topics like the Arab Spring and Islamâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s influence on the youth. I soon discovered, however, that as a student of language I have the unique opportunity to prioritize people above governments or newspapers. I can be more than a tourist, more than a scholar â&#x20AC;&#x201D; I can be a friend, a confidant, a bridge. In the spring of 2012, I studied Arabic poetry with Professor Kamal Abu Deeb. He introduced me to a word of his own creation, one he has used in his writings to mean the essence of being. In Arabic, , el Iktanah. My experiences here have been driven by this goal: to discover the elements of life that are particular to Morocco, as well as acknowledge the core experiences of simply being human. I am in search of the Iktanah.

This search is like the pomegranate, , el ruman, which is sold on the street for roughly fifty cents but holds within its yellow shell small treasures. The bright pink seeds sit perfectly in their places, each one confined in a thin layer of skin; underneath, the fruit is refreshing and sweet. Here, time is measured in individual moments like these, each one encapsulated in itself but connected to those around it. As a student here, my best experiences occurred when I have forgotten the shackles of minutes and allowed myself to become engrossed. The photographs that follow represent a collections of such moments.

I am constantly caught off guard by glimpses of peopleâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s most precious moments, when they bow before God in prayer, five times a day. There is an incredible humility in such devotion, and it is a privilege to witness.

In an ornately decorated building, overlooking the ancient Medina in Fez, I was mesmerized by an elderly woman lost in a moment of rest by the window sill.

Young children run through the streets at all hours of the day. They kick soccer balls in the narrow Medina streets, carry trays of pastries to the community oven in each neighborhood, and throw their arms around each other on the way home from school.

I attended a cultural show for orphaned children here in Tangier. The program, which spanned five hours, transitioned from very traditional music to a well-known rapper who, from the Moroccan Arabic I pieced together, sang about the dignity of his country and hopes of the youth. The teenagers encouraged young children to join in his lyrics, the balance of tradition and change floating in the air. The answer here seems to be not either/ or, but both. In a chaotic way, the two blend together.

If I could choose only one word to describe the essence of life in Morocco, it would be ‘colorful.’ Houses are painted purple and green over peeling white walls, women light up the city with bright Jalabas, and fruit stands decorate old streets. Sometimes these flashes of color, mixed with Arabic greetings shouted across the souq and children’s laughter, overwhelm the senses.

In the realm of dichotomies, Morocco seems to carry its extremes gracefully. While Tangier is a major city, rounding a corner in the right place can produce a view of the vast Mediterranean. Buildings and traffic in one direction, the beautiful emptiness of the sea stretches in the other.

Staff Editorial: Israeli Politics Axel Hufford Israel’s government under Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu appears to be stable for the first time in two decades, but its stability is forged out of a debilitating need for major parties to appease minor parties in order to create a coalition government. The result is a leadership caught between conflicting mandates. If the Knesset wants to break free from this inaction and increase government cohesion and efficiency, Israel must reform its electoral system. Such a reform need not be radical, however, but many of Israel’s problems can be addressed simply by increasing the Knesset’s electoral threshold from 2% to 5%. Israel operates as a single electoral district with 120 seats, with citizens voting for a single party (out of dozens) in a Closed Proportional Representation ballot. Yet, a party only needs 2% of the national vote to guarantee it a spot in parliament. This creates a highly representative yet highly fragile legislature; since no party has ever won a majority of seats, the most popular parties must secure a majority vote through coalition-making and back-door deals.1 In Israel’s 2009 election, the moderate, dovish Kadima party won 22% of the vote, while Netanyahu’s Likud party, representing a more hawkish central-right view, won 21%. Despite having fewer Knesset seats, Likud secured a majority coalition by making quick deals with smaller parties, offering up powerful ministerial positions and thereby ensuring Netanyahu’s position as Prime Minister, while Kadima was left out of the government entirely.2 Three of the coalition’s parties take up nearly half of the government’s ministerial positions yet hold 29 Knesset seats combined, compared to Kadima, which has no executive representation despite holding 28 seats.3 Because of Israel’s small electoral threshold, parties winning a fraction of the vote end up with a disproportionate influence over the government. Though these minority parties should realistically hold little political power, a spot in the majority coalition (and with it, a ministerial position) means that larger, more moderate, parties (e.g., Likud) will have to become more radical to hold together a majority. In May 2012, Netanyahu announced a deal with Shaul Mofaz, the leader of the centrist Kadima Party, which created a supermajority of 94 of the 120 Parliament members, seemingly putting him into a position where he could address the difficult Palestianian issues and other complex questions. However, only two months later, the agreement fractured, after Natanyahu gave in to pressure from ultra-Orthodox parties to slow down the integration of Orthodox men into mandatory military and civilian services. Combined with his decision to ally with right-wing groups over expanding settlements in the West Bank, it became clear that Netanyahu felt a need to strengthen his relationships with the right-wing and religious factions in order to improve his chance to maintain his leadership position moving forward. As the New York Times reported after the split between Likud and Kadima, “it seems clear that [Natanyahu] will run from the right, and less likely that he will take steps on settlements or the broader Palenstinian conflict that may alienate conservative and religious voters.”4 1

Alex Bain, “Israel’s Flawed Electoral System: Obstacle to Peace and Democracy,” Middle East Institute 32 (2011), 4-6. 2 Ethan Bronner, “Battle Is Close in Israeli Election,” The New York Times (Feb. 2, 2009), 2. 3 Amnon Meranda, “Knesset Approves Netanyahu’s Government,” Ynet (2009). 4 Jodi Rudoren, “Unity Government in Israel Disbanding Over Dispute on Draft,” The New York Times (July 17, 2012), 1.

This perception proved accurate, as, in catering to the ultra-orthodox groups and right-wing nationalist parties in his coalition, Netanyahu has largely ignored Israel’s arguably most crucial problem: the Palestinian conflict. Though Netanyahu has shown signs of a personal willingness to create, one day, a Palestinian state, the government has remained intransigent.5 By giving political control to nationalist and ultra-religious groups, “the Israeli system empowers segments of the population that are least willing to make territorial compromises for peace.”6 Thus, Netanyahu is handcuffed; any move he makes towards peace could end his coalition and his majority. This problem extends beyond just Palestine, however. Because the more popular moderate opinions are subject to the control of radical groups, the Knesset is an ineffective body that doesn’t have the political mechanisms to handle ideological divisive problems. In October, Likud announced it was joining with an ultranationalist party, Yisrael Beitenu, in advance of the new elections, scheduled for early 2013 (“Israel’s governing”). The new coalition should allow Netanyahu to maintain control over a majority of the vote but only through a sharp turn to the right that could well derail any potential movement toward resolving the Palestinian problem. This reflects how the coalition building required under the present structure of the Israeli electoral systems requires such compromises that reform becomes difficult, if not impossible. Increasing the electoral threshold from 2% to 5% provides one possible means to address this issue. It would immediately cut the Knesset down from 12 parties to just five, while garnering more seats to the larger parties, therefore weakening the ability of small extreme groups to have too great an influence on governmental policy. Moreover, as the small, extreme parties at both ends of the political spectrum lose the ability to gain a position in the Knesset with smaller percentages, voters may become more willing to choose between the larger, more moderate parties, giving them greater support. With a much smaller group of parties involved in the negotiations, coalition building would become simpler and the chance at achieving a majority vote within one or two parties would be enhanced. With this change, Israel would effectively be left with Likud along with two left-leaning parties, Kadima (Yesh Atid) and Labor, and two hawkish conservative parties, Shas and Yisrael Beiteinu. This is not a perfect solution: Likud could align itself with the two conservative parties and continue the status quo. Yet, at the same time, the possibility remains that, with fewer of the radical parties to address, Likud can shift closer to the center instead of being handcuffed to the right. More comprehensive reforms have been proposed, but completely rewriting Israel’s electoral system would not garner a majority. Increasing the electoral threshold is a smaller but still significant step, and success is more likely, since the Knesset increased it from 1.5% to 2% in 2003.7 At a minimum, changing the system will allow Netanyahu (and future leaders) to reassess positions and permit compromises with the other major parties -- instead of with the extremes -- leading to a more proactive and efficacious Israeli government. While this will reduce how representative the government may actually be, that is a cost worth bearing in order to gain a more effective government that has the ability to make the tough choices necessary for Israel to confront the difficulties ahead.

Napp Nazworth, “Netanyahu: Israel Wants Palestinian State and Security,” CP Politics (Sept. 25, 2011), 1-2. 6 Bain, 6. 7 “The Electoral System in Israel.” The Knesset, 2012.

Staff Editorial: Is Oil South Sudan’s Fatal Flaw? Feyaad Allie On July 9, 2011, South Sudan declared its independence from Sudan. Only seven months later, the new, oil-dependent state shut down its petroleum production due to a dispute over revenue sharing with Sudan. Currently, South Sudan and Sudan are attempting to resolve their differences so oil can continue to support their fragile economies. But in South Sudan, where oil represents 98% of the government’s revenue, continuing to pursue this oil will only sustain corruption, increase dependency, and heighten internal and external tensions threatening the state’s existence.1 While South Sudan’s reliance on oil government revenue places few demands on its population, it also reduces government accountability. The South Sudanese tax system is difficult to understand and enforce, and oil revenue renders it moot. The resulting lack of pressure to pay taxes leads South Sudanese to hold the government less accountable, building corruption and undermining legitimate representation. The South Sudanese government consists of a “nepotistic ruling class of 500 ministers and 2,000 members of parliament” who have pocketed about £2.5bn.2 Were there a need to tax the population, perhaps these government actions would not go uncontested. In the history of tension between Sudan and South Sudan the oil-rich border region of Abyei stands out. Abyei is inhabited by the South Sudanese Dinka Ngok tribe and visited yearly by the nomadic Sudanese Misseriya tribe, creating a baseline of tension. Exploiting this area as Abyei is split will increase this latent ethnic tension as occupation of the region for oil extraction displaces both populations. 3 Negotiations between Sudan and South Sudan may themselves increase the likelihood of heightened tension and outright conflict. Any concession made by either nation will evoke feelings of weakness and humiliation. South Sudanese officials have indicated to Western diplomats that “the independence, honor and integrity of South Sudan is more important than material things,” suggesting that both states’ stubborn stances will continue to complicate relations and aggravate tension between them.4 Some experts claim that Sudan and South Sudan’s attempts to reach agreement on oil drilling and revenue sharing will help the two countries resolve their economic dysfunction and heal their relationship. But pursuing oil for government revenue will only build South Sudan’s dependence on it, proving especially problematic once oil alone can no longer sustain the country and other economic sectors remain underdeveloped. Furthermore, oil extraction in Abyei will heighten tensions between Sudanese and South Sudanese ethnic groups and reduce any chance of cooperation between the two countries.5 Some argue this pursuit of oil will attract foreign investment from countries such as Austria, which hopes to begin operations in the area.6 But a foreign presence (whether direct or indirect) in South Sudan for oil will 1

Rebecca Hamilton, “Southern Sudanese carry high hopes, many challenges as independence vote nears,” Washington Post (Nov. 27, 2010). 2 Hakeem Legge, “The Dream of South Sudan is fading fast – I cannot yet return,” The Guardian (July 10, 2012). 3 The Economist. “Better than nothing.” October 6, 2012. 4 Simon Robinson, “Special Report: In South Sudan, a state of dependency,” Reuters (July 10, 2012). 5 Robinson. 6 Georgina Prodhan, “Sudan, South Sudan pledge peace, seek investment,” Reuters Africa (Oct. 10, 2012).

strain relations between ethnic groups in Abyei as foreigners take over the region and displace the South Sudanese from their homes. This is not without historical precedent, as Chevron’s exploration of oil in Southern Sudan in 1975 resulted in the burning of 48 villages and the displacement of 55,000 people. The World Food Program and Operation Lifeline Sudan have documented that as of 2002, approximately 174,000 had been displaced by oil production in Sudan. Investment in Abyei would only increase this number.7 Instead of being used as a revenue source, oil should be used to help develop industry in South Sudan. Oil can be used to produce energy to strengthen the agriculture sector, putting South Sudan on the path of self-sufficiency in terms of food production and potentially leading to export opportunities. Moreover, this will move the economy toward renewable resources, diversifying it as a whole. With a developed agriculture sector, rural citizens will earn steadier incomes, allowing the government to begin taxing the population instead of relying on oil for its revenue. This in turn will lead the people to hold their officials accountable for their actions. South Sudan’s recent attempts at compromise with Sudan in order to resume oil production will only further undermine the new country’s taxation regime and government accountability as a result. In addition, resuming operations in the oil region of Abyei will exacerbate ethnic and regional tensions as people are displaced from their land. South Sudan would be better served by putting its oil toward the development of industry and agriculture. But if the South Sudanese government remains dependent on oil, the new country may struggle to survive through the second anniversary of its independence.

Bogumil Terminski, “Oil-Induced Displacement and Resettlement: Social Problem and Human Rights Issue,” New Debates on Belonging Conference (Oct. 2011).

Notes