Conflict and Institutional Change in Sub-Saharan Africa

Pandit Mami, Research Analyst, Foreign Policy & Diaspora Studies Policy Lab
pmami@africacfsp.org

This paper seeks to determine under what conditions would a critical juncture result in an institutional change in countries mired in weak institution traps. Using Rwanda’s historical trajectory as a case in point, the paper illustrates that institutional change needs the initiation and alignment of various strands of endogenous forces to establish social trust, which subsequently become the launching pad for improving quality of governance.

Introduction

According to the Stockholm International Peace Research Institute, approximately one in four countries in sub-Saharan Africa experienced an active conflict in 2019.¹ Since gaining independence, a third of the countries in the region experienced at least one civil war. These alarming statistics have not only besmirched the global image of the region, but also have been cited by economists as one of the primary reasons why sub-Saharan Africa lags behind the rest of the world in terms of its overall economic well-being. Interestingly, these attempts to explain Africa’s institutional challenges often focus on the outcome rather than the root causes of political instability. Conflict does not occur in a vacuum.

Viewing conflict as a symptom instead of the root cause of the continent’s institutional failure would provide us with a holistic understanding of why the continent is fraught with these instabilities and the conditions that would allow sub-Saharan Africa to break away from this vicious cycle. Although conflict is inevitable in a dysfunctional system, its disruptive effect does provide an opportunity for a fresh start for a nation, a critical juncture.

Critical junctures can cause a rapid shift in the trajectory of an entire continent or a state.² During a critical juncture period, society can experience either a vicious or virtuous cycle that would significantly shape its historical reality. These historical legacies persist until another period of change occurs to orchestrate another shift. This paper attempts to answer the question: under what conditions would a critical juncture result in an institutional change?

In the case of sub-Saharan Africa, understanding the impact of a critical juncture is fundamental in explaining why, despite the historical legacies of the region’s institutional development, certain countries have succeeded in escaping the continent’s “weak institutional traps”³ and shifted instead toward a different equilibrium. Earlier in the region’s history, specific critical junctures explain why the region lags behind the rest of the world – in relation to human capabilities and economic growth, according to Acemoglu and Robinson.⁴ Thus, Rwanda’s recent achievement in improving governance is worth examining as the nation seems to defy the logic of the path dependency of macro-level societal institutions, a theory postulated by scholars of historical institutional legacies.⁵ However, after the 1994 Rwandan Genocide, the nation is on a different trajectory. To illustrate, “the 2018 Corruption Perceptions Index by Transparency International rated Rwanda as the 48th least corrupt nation globally, 4th in Africa, and the 1st in East Africa.”⁶ The following question thus arises: why is Rwanda doing better than the Democratic Republic of Congo, its neighboring country with a very similar history?

The 1994 Rwandan genocide is a critical juncture in the nation’s developmental history, and it provided Rwanda with an opportunity for change. However, the success of Rwanda in re-writing its institutional story is contingent on the initiation and alignment of various strands of endogenous forces to establish social trust, which subsequently became the launching pad for improving the country’s quality of governance. More specifically, at the domestic level, the leaders of the post-genocidal nation were effective at unwinding some of the colonial structures that perpetuated inequalities and exacerbated social distrust among the various ethnic groups in the nation, thereby setting the stage for political stability and improving the social trust between two salient ethnic cleavages in the nation. The following domestic policies were fundamental in reinforcing the guardrails of social trust in the nation: (1) modifications in power-sharing arrangements, (2) the establishment of a National Unity and Reconciliation Commission, and (3) Vision 2020. The initiation and simultaneous interaction of these policies provided the perfect milieu for Rwanda to strengthen institutions relating to conflict resolution, thereby liberating itself from the stickiness of its post-colonial extractive economic and political institutions.

Multi-Ethnicity and Social Trust

In countries with salient multi-ethnic cleavages, cultivating social capital is essential for national cohesion and good governance. According to Putnam et al., the increase in social capital across society is critical for a well-functioning government.⁷ Quality of governance is the virtual absence of partiality in the use of public resources.⁸ Yet, all too often, multi-ethnic societies are rife with the inequitable distribution of power resources across their various ethnic cleavages.⁹ Expanding on these viewpoints, one would argue that this lopsided distribution of public goods would accentuate inequality and hamper social trust in any given society.

The inequitable distribution of power resources along ethnic lines is more salient in Africa because of the continent’s extractive post-colonial institutions and subsequent particularistic culture that is intricately interwoven within them. According to Nicolas Van de Walle, the post-colonial political elite in sub-Saharan Africa, often belonging to one of the ethnic cleavages, were more concerned with embezzling state resources and becoming affluent instead of pioneering the equitable distribution of public goods. As Van de Walle puts it, “state corruption in the region [became] a mechanism for asset accumulation and elite formation rather than poverty alleviation and income redistribution.”¹⁰

One can trace the origins of the continent’s weak institution and quality of governance challenges from its colonial experience. During the colonial period, for instance, indirect colonial rule resulted in winners and losers between seemingly fragmented ethnic groups in the region. More precisely, the colonial administration delegated its governing responsibilities to tribal leaders of specific ethnic groups, thereby establishing a social hierarchy regarding access to power resources. According to Mamdani, these proxy administrations were not only more corrupt and less efficient than their metropolis counterparts, but they also left certain ethnic groups underserved in terms of access to health and education.¹¹ Thus, in this classic display of divide and conquer, the indirect colonial rule accentuated inequality and exacerbated social distrust along ethnic domains. Rwanda is an example of how colonialism wreaks havoc on Africa’s governance.

Tracing the History of the Interaction Between Social Trust and Access to Public Goods in Rwanda

A deep dive into Rwanda’s colonial and post-colonial history demonstrates how the inequitable distribution of power resources across ethnic cleavages ignited a chain reaction that resulted in the 1994 Rwandan genocide. More specifically, identity-based distribution of power resources amplified during colonialism weakened the institution of conflict resolution, hampered social trust, and subsequently set the stage for a violent genocidal outburst. Thus, to understand the interaction between ethnicity, social trust, and public goods in Rwanda, I will trace the interplay of these variables in both the pre-colonial and post-colonial times, specifically the years when ethnic identity became a major determinant of access to power resources.

The Belgium colonial administration was a tipping point in Rwanda’s history, especially its role in weakening institutions of conflict resolution – namely, the rule of law, democratic institutions, and social safety nets. In pre-colonial Rwanda, Hutu, Tutsi, and Twa were social class categories rather than distinctive ethnic identities.¹² Whereas social hierarchy in Rwanda predates the colonial era, these cleavages became more reified during the nation’s colonial rule under both Germany and Belgium. According to historian Catherine Newbury, the Hutu-Tutsi inequality and state domination pre-dates colonialism. Newbury notes, however, that colonialism “accentuated [these] ethnic cleavages and gave them meanings different from the earlier period.”¹³

The distribution of political power on the basis of ethnic identity is one way the colonial experience militates against the prospect for quality governance in Rwanda. In the 1920s, the Belgium colonial administration, in a venture to create a more centralized state in Rwanda, destroyed the competing social hierarchies that were prevalent across these ethnic identities. Belgium inadvertently heightened the asymmetric power between the two dominant ethnic cleavages.¹⁴ With Tutsis dominating the political and economic spheres, their ethnic identity gradually became a marker of privilege in Rwanda. This experience was exacerbated in the 1930s when the colonial administration issued identity cards that indicated ethnic cleavages. Historians note that the ethnically divided state not only deprived Hutus of access to education and health resources, but also to political power.¹⁵ This extractive nature of Rwandan political and economic institutions heightened inequality along ethnic lines and subsequently wreaked havoc on social trust.

Although prominent Hutu leaders tried to challenge the status quo and push for more inclusive institutions, their efforts were not productive. In 1957, for example, local Hutu leaders designed the ‘Hutu Manifesto’ – a document demanding power-sharing and equal opportunity for all, regardless of ethnic origin.¹⁶ Whereas some of the Tutsi elites wanted to acquiesce to their demands and even considered enacting land redistribution policies to curtail the rising inequality between Hutus and Tutsis, these progressive elites were unable to garner the requisite support to bring their plan to promote equity to fruition. Thus, the Tutsi lost a major opportunity to dismantle the extractive enterprise in the nation and repair social trust across ethnic cleavages. Unfortunately, the Tutsis’ decision to stick with the status quo that promoted the inequitable access of opportunities for Hutus was a major blunder on their part because the end of colonialism heralded a shift toward majority rule in Rwanda, favoring the Hutu.

From 1959 to 1962, the Hutus, with significant political capital, voted along ethnic lines and gradually replaced the Tutsi elite via elections.¹⁷ In addition, as political power began to change hands, massive ethnic violence erupted against the Tutsi elites, causing them to flee and seek asylum in the neighboring countries. The descendants of Tutsi in exile became the backbone of the Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF).¹⁸

Nonetheless, a shift to majority rule did not make Rwanda’s institutions more inclusive. Similar to Tutsi political elites before them, the democratically elected Hutu leaders failed to strengthen the institution of conflict resolution. The political institutions of both the first and second Rwandan republics were extractive as they served the interests of the political elite.¹⁹ Instead of initiating massive reforms to improve the nation’s quality of governance, the initial shift to democracy in Rwanda kept the fabrics of impartiality in the distribution of public goods. According to Des Forges, in the first Rwandan republic, “identity cards which had once served to guarantee privilege to Tutsi, now serve as a means to discriminate against them, both in education and in employment.”²⁰ Thus, the first Rwandan republic was far from being a liberal democratic state.²¹ Similar to the Tutsi elites during the colonial period, the Hutu political elites ignored Rwanda’s developmental concerns and consolidated power along ethnic lines.

General Juvenal Habyarimana, President of the second Rwandan republic, initially tried to improve the quality of governance and ensure equal opportunity for all citizens. However, corruption, nepotism, and street bureaucrats’ discrimination against Tutsi continued to obfuscate the path toward national unity and social cohesion.²² Furthermore, the Habyarimana regime nurtured solidarity against RPF incursions into Rwanda by spreading virulent Tutsi propaganda, which exacerbated the existing animosity between Hutu and Tutsi. As a result of this propaganda, radical Hutus saw all Tutsis not only as a fifth column of the RPF invaders but also as malicious outsiders whose sole intention was to drive a wedge between Hutus. As Des Forges puts it, “The [Hutu] radicals rejected the idea that Rwandans were a single people, charging that this concept was a Tutsi trick to divide and weaken the Hutus…”²³ Thus, the Rwandan genocide that ensued in 1994 was asymptomatic of a greater problem of diminishing social trust that stemmed from poor quality of governance, particularly in regard to the distribution of public goods across ethnic lines.

The Emergence of Social Trust and Quality Governance in Rwanda

Examining the variation in trust before and after the 1994 Rwandan genocide, Ingelaere and Verpoorten found evidence that inter-ethnic trust diminished significantly at the onset of the genocide but gradually recovered over time.²⁴ Although they suggest that the individual exposure to violence in part explains this variation in trust, it does not explain why violence emerges in the first place. More precisely, it assumes that inter-ethnic trust is contingent primarily on violence. Trust can also emerge through strengthening the institutions of conflict resolution. Therefore, the rise of inter-ethnic group trust in Rwanda might as well be indicative of the efficacy of the various policy interventions in the aftermath of the 1994 Rwandan genocide.

Rwandan Post-Genocide Interventions

Although the genocide provided Rwanda with a critical juncture, extractive institutions do not crumble simply because an opportunity for an equilibrium shift presents itself. The role of political elites in initiating the necessary reforms to shift the nation from a particularistic to a universal culture during this stint is crucial. As Benedicte points out, “in order to understand why and how weak or strong institutions evolve, we must also consider how key actors relate to weak institutional context and how the practices they apply contribute to further weakening or strengthening institutions.”²⁵ In the Rwandan case, the political elites chose to strengthen the institutions of conflict resolution, which cultivated the social trust needed to improve the nation’s quality of governance. More specifically, the interaction of the following policies facilitated the restoration of social trust: (1) modifications in power-sharing arrangements, (2) the establishment of a National Unity and Reconciliation Commission, and (3) Vision 2020, which focused on tackling developmental challenges.

In multi-ethnic societies such as Rwanda, power-sharing is a major determinant of political stability, a critical component for good governance. According to Varsheny, “conflicts are a much more regular feature of pluralistic societies… because of the lack of loyalty to a common political center.”²⁶ Thus, for political stability to emerge in countries transitioning from ethnic conflict, the structures of power – economic and political institutions – must reflect the representation of the respective ethnic groups.

Scholars have postulated various power-sharing models that would help mitigate the problems of multiple loyalties among subcultures in multiethnic societies. Chief among these is the consociational democracy model. Consociational democracy, especially in the early stages, is an effective power-sharing model to negate tension and build social trust. According to Lijphart, certain multi-ethnic societies have “deep cleavages” that make it unsafe for the masses to interact competitively at the political level.²⁷ In Lijphart’s view, the lack of cross-cutting cleavages in these societies would make any major political interaction among the masses generate tension and escalate into conflict.²⁸

Lijphart’s consociational democracy model suppresses ethnic politics among divergent subcultures. Instead of the masses competing, the political elites transcend subcultural divides and work in concert with each other to keep the peace and subsequently advocate the interests of their groups at this multi-subcultural power-sharing platform.

After the genocide, the RPF adopted a semblance of a consociational democracy power-sharing structure to foster political stability and repair social trust. Whereas post-genocide Rwanda is not exactly a consociational democracy, it mirrors some aspects of its power-sharing arrangements. First, at the end of the genocide, the RPF decided to establish a coalition government, a decision which in hindsight mitigated the fear of Hutus who were embroiled in the genocide against the Tutsi.²⁹ More importantly, this power-sharing arrangement promotes inclusivity in the political sphere without fueling the flames of ethnic politics. Although the Tutsi-backed RPF militia emerges victorious at the end of the genocide, Paul Kagame elected Pasteur Bizimunga, a Hutu, as the third President in addition to other Hutus in ministerial positions.³⁰ Furthermore, as Gerard Prunier points out, “in ethnic terms, the cabinet had a majority of Hutu (16 out of 22 ministerial posts, including the President and the Prime Minister).”³¹ Put simply, the RPF learned from the mistakes of the political elites of the past and ensured that political power was more inclusive going forward.

Rwanda’s emerging elite, understanding the dangers of elections in countries with deep cleavages, went further to design a constitution that was tailored to transcend the nation’s subcultural divide and push instead towards national unity. Indeed, consociationalism is a good solution during the transitional phase of ethnic conflicts. This mechanism, however, is not sustainable in the long run. More specifically, political stability in this system is often contingent on the behavior of political elites and the composition of subcultural identities. Thus, major changes in either of these factors would wreak havoc on the political stability of the system altogether. According to Horowitz, the political elites in these subcultures cannot effectively advocate for the entire group, as some of the political compromises they would acquiesce to would most likely favor one intra-factional group more so than the others.³²

Rwanda, emerging from a harrowing genocidal experience, needs a power-sharing mechanism that transcends identity-based politics and not one that merely suppresses it. The nation’s 2003 constitution reflects this reality. According to Shyaka, the new Rwandan constitution puts a premium on the equitable distribution of power, the improvement of social safety nets, and more importantly, the eradication of genocidal ideology and identity-based division.³³ Political parties, for instance, are cautioned against fanning the flames and sowing the seeds of divisionism. Moreover, they are encouraged to reflect the spirit of national unity and social cohesion. Although the wording of the constitution is subject to interpretation, Rwanda needs time to cultivate a civic identity that transcends its historically insidious identity-based politics. Without allowing the time for civic education investment to shape the mental models of its citizens, competitive elections between candidates from different political cleavages might ignite the cancer of divisionism and weaken the fabrics of quality governance.

In addition to the power-sharing arrangement that emerged after the genocide, the local justice system also bolstered social trust across ethnic ties. With thousands of its population on the backlog for genocidal tribunals and the legislative wing of the nation crippled, Rwanda turned to its traditional community-based justice system, the Gacaca courts, to bring justice against perpetrators of the genocide.³⁴ This community-based justice system is not only rooted in the traditional practice of justice, but also encourages community and local people to participate in finding solutions to the nation’s problems.³⁵

The Gacaca court captured the perfect balance between punitive and transformative justice practices, thus promoting healing between the abusers and the people and communities they have levied harm against. In other words, the Gacaca was designed to simultaneously administer justice and encourage reconciliation in society. According to Kinzer, the Gacaca courts were not only conducted at the locations where the crime was committed, but they allowed the community, victims, witnesses, and defendants to actively participate in the process of healing and justice.³⁶ In doing so, the nature of the court allows for the community to work together to solve a collective action problem, an important facet for quality governance.

In post-genocidal Rwanda, the mechanism for conflict resolution was specifically customized to find the balance between justice and national cohesion. One major area of contention was the fact that the defendants under the Gacaca were not privy to certain privileges in the Western-styled court of law; nonetheless, one could argue that the courts serve more to promote healing than to punish perpetrators with impunity. As Kinzer points out, those who expressed remorse and confessed their crimes were treated leniently and welcomed into their communities.³⁷ Because communities actively participated in the process, the structure of the Gacaca courts struck the perfect balance between community-based reconciliation and justice, thereby restoring the fabric of social trust.

In addition to the grassroots level justice and reconciliation mechanism, Rwanda also instituted The National Unity and Reconciliation Commission (NURC) to actively engage with fostering social cohesion. Whereas the 2003 Rwandan constitution highlighted the values and culture of the new Rwanda, NURC became the mechanism through which universalistic and civic culture is inculcated into the rational memory of society.³⁸ Solidarity camps, such as the ‘Ingando,’ became a conduit for instilling best practices and universalistic values in all echelons of society. As Saha points out, these community-based programs were aimed at turning the hand of the clock and erasing the colonial divisionist legacy that plagued Rwanda’s developmental trajectory.³⁹ Although the government originally organized the ‘Ingando’ as a re-education program for ex-combatants and exile returnees, they gradually expanded the program to other sectors of society to shift the collective mental models of the nation from divisionism to the promotion of civic identity and universalistic principles.⁴⁰

In Rwanda, Vision 2020, particularly the project’s human development component, was a fundamental pillar in restoring social trust and building the ground for good governance in the long run. Although political power-sharing and community-based justice are fundamental for promoting reconciliation and restoring social trust across ethnic lines, these pillars would not hold firmly without the support of development in human capabilities. Sen, for instance, highlights prioritizing human development as an intrinsically desirable component of governance.⁴¹ Thus, the leadership of the third Rwandan republic demonstrated significant ingenuity in launching Vision 2020. According to Shyaka, Vision 2020 was aimed at developing the Rwandan population as a collective whole in the spirit of equity and inclusion.⁴² In many ways, the program became not only a mechanism for development and national cohesion, but also a means through which the new Rwandan society responded to the social risks and the economic challenges that emerge from the 1994 genocide in both the formal and informal sectors. These challenges include, but are not limited to, the fiscal cost of resettling returnees and exiles, health challenges, and extreme levels of poverty. Through various social safety net initiatives, Vision 2020 set the stage for Rwanda to use its human resource as a catalyst for economic development.⁴³ Indeed, one could argue that citizens would be more receptive to the message of national unity and reconciliation when the political elites are supplementing their fight against divisionism with massive institutional reforms across various institutions to rectify the very conditions that caused the nation to spiral downward.

Conclusion

Post-genocide Rwanda has made significant inroads in strengthening its institution of conflict resolution. The post-genocide era has provided the nation with an opportunity to shift its equilibrium toward a developmental path. The critical juncture alone is insufficient to explain Rwanda’s new developmental trajectory. To capture a holistic picture, one must factor in the proximate variables. Specifically, it is imperative to consider the initiation and interaction of endogenous interventions – namely, power-sharing modifications, reconciliation apparatus, and developmental roadmap plans. The nature of these interactions nurtured social trust, which became the catalyst for improving Rwanda’s quality of governance.

However, with Paul Kagame still at the helm, it is difficult to gauge the extent these interventions would continue to keep social trust and good governance. Rwanda’s truest test is in the post-Kagame era. It is only then the world could truly judge the power of these interventions, specifically their ability to maintain social cohesion and inclusive institutions.

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