On June 26, 2019, in a landmark verdict, the National Environment Tribunal (NET) halted the construction of Kenya’s first proposed coal-fired electricity-generating plant in Lamu, ruling that the National Environment Management Authority (NEMA) had failed to do an adequate environmental and social impact assessment (ESIA) of the plant. Specifically, the public’s views had not been included in the ESIA study, and the ESIA itself had failed to incorporate several important environmental impacts of the proposed plant.
This judgement is a massive victory for environmental campaigns in Kenya, where too often, large political interests tend to prevail. Members of deCOALonize, the umbrella coalition group against the coal industry in Kenya that filed an appeal at NET in 2016, have had to deal with the propagation of “fake news”, intimidation, the convenient shuffling of Kenyan bureaucratic systems, and much more, which makes their win truly noteworthy. What makes this verdict even more incredible is that other environmental campaigns challenging the adequacy of the ESIA on similar, large Chinese-funded infrastructure projects, such as Save Nairobi National Park (NNP), for example, which have been branded by the government as crucial for development, have not achieved similar success.
Many researchers have questioned the need for a coal plant in the first place in Kenya when the country currently faces a power surplus. Further they argue that at the moment Kenya actually is generating a surfeit of electricity. In fact, many thermal plants in Thika and along the Athi river are currently idle. Although proponents of coal argue that more energy generation capacity is needed to meet projected demand in the future, international experts, such as Daniel Kammen from Berkeley, have shown that coal is not the cheapest technology to meet future energy needs. Very recently, the Institute for Energy Economics and Financial Analysis also produced an independent study questioning the economics of building a coal plant in Kenya.
Therefore the real question with these large infrastructure projects, is not development at what cost, but at what cost to whom?
The proposed Lamu coal plant is a Sh200 billion project that serves powerful private commercial interests (such as Centum Investments and Gulf Energy Kenya, which joined forces as Amu Power, the developer of the project) who have well-known connections to the very top of the executive branch of Kenya. These connections are reflected in the favourable terms and conditions of the power purchase agreement (PPA) between the Government of Kenya and the developers. The PPA essentially commits the government to buying electricity from the plant for the next 25 years at a favourable price (regardless of whether the electricity is used or needed). Coal is expected to arrive from South Africa to power the Lamu coal plant.
The Government of Kenya has repeatedly stressed that the Lamu plant will provide jobs for the community. However, like with the other large Chinese-financed infrastructure projects, most of the labour comes from China. The fact that most of the fishing community near the Lamu coal plant do not have a secondary education means that most of them are not qualified to be able to work at the plant, although their livelihoods will be most affected by the pollution from the plant.
The proposed Lamu coal plant is a Sh200 billion project that serves powerful private commercial interests who have well-known connections to the very top of the executive branch of Kenya.
Therefore, it is unlikely that the community would have benefited from the construction of this plant.
Furthermore, most of the community around the plant already have electricity from solar PV, and therefore there is no need of electricity from the plant. Importantly, and as stated several times in the NET judgement, the community was not involved in the decision to build the coal plant in Lamu and deCOALonize members were not invited to meetings held by Amu Power; the meetings were held in locations difficult to reach by most of the community. Therefore, their interests were not represented in the siting and planning of the plant.
Interestingly, we were told by a deCOALonize organiser that a few years previously, a coal plant was slated to be sited in Kilifi. However, the county government there is powerful, and the plan was ultimately dropped. The decision to locate a coal plant in Lamu, one of Kenya’s most marginalised counties with much less political power, does not appear, in light of this, to be accidental. The community in Lamu is well aware of this and spoke about how few roads in the North-West region of Kenya are tarmacked and low literacy rates prevail. A lot of large extractive projects have been initiated in the region. In addition to the Lamu Port and Lamu-Southern Sudan-Ethiopia Transport Corridor (LAPSSET) and the Lamu coal plant, natural gas exploration has been underway on Pate island. (It has only recently been abandoned.)
Given all of the many obstacles the campaign has had to face, how has deCOALonize managed to be so successful?
This is the central question of this article. It is important to document victories in Kenya. Too often, we only hear stories of failure and corruption. We need to challenge these hegemonic narratives by detailing how Kenyans have been winning critical battles for change.
Now, although deCOALonize won its case in court, campaigners have cautioned that the battle against the Lamu coal plant is not over. Amu Power can conduct a new ESIA and apply for a new licence, which means a new fight will ensue. The lead lawyer for deCOALonize, Lempaa Suyianka, only a few days ago was arrested on an arguably flimsy charge, and although he was released, his phone was impounded by the police. This event does not bode well for the campaign, and members of the public must continue to be vigilant to ensure that deCOALonize members do not suffer the wrath of powerful interests embroiled in this case.
In addition, the Lamu coal plant is only one of the many mega infrastructure projects in Lamu. LAPSSET, and the building of the Lamu-Garissa-Isiolo road are still underway, and have caused a lot of damage to the region, with many farmers displaced by access roads without being granted compensation, as well as acres of mangroves in the area being cleared. The public must continue to fight for the people of Lamu to ensure that compensation is disbursed to the people affected.
Still, the deCOALonize’s recent court win has set a new precedent for environmental cases in Kenya and warrants further examination. In order to do this, we first list the strategies deCOALonize activists used, as well as the challenges the campaign faced.
deCOALonize runs a transparent campaign and uploads videos of court proceedings, documents and press reports on its website.
Kenyan scholar Nanjala Nyabola’s much-acclaimed book, Digital Democracy, Analogue Politics, charts how social media tools such as Twitter are creating spaces for Kenyans to protest and create new narratives. deCOALonize has leveraged these tools successfully to raise awareness at the local, national and international levels.
Some activists believed that the awareness about the coal projects they had generated at the international level through sustained posts on social media, participation in climate summits and street demonstrations would lead to divestment by external organisations, which would lead to the Lamu coal plant project stalling. The Industrial and Commercial Bank (ICBC) of China has agreed to finance 75 per cent of the Lamu coal plant to the tune of $2 billion, but the Government of Kenya needed to find a backer for the remaining 25 per cent needed. deCOALonize’s campaign has been successful in influencing the African Development Bank and the Standard Bank of South African, both of which have pulled out of financing the project. However, General Electric (GE) is still considering investment in the project
In addition, deCOALonize has presented evidence to UNESCO about the impact the coal plant would have on Lamu, which is a World Heritage Site. UNESCO has also recently come out strongly against the construction of the coal plant.
Partners of the campaign also believed that awareness at the national level was important. Activists said they did this to prevent the government from shifting the construction of the coal plant to another county. They particularly focused on holding a variety of public forums, photography exhibitions, protests, and other events in Nairobi, the political centre. They were successful in getting some progressive politicians, such as Boniface Mwangi, to make stopping coal part of their political campaigns.
Furthermore, at public events organisers connected the plans for building the Lamu coal plant with the broader theme of energy justice. Ordinary Kenyans are affected by the economics of the energy sector. Kenya Power and Lighting Company (KPLC) holds a monopoly on electricity transmission through the national grid. It’s cartel-like practices of inflating electricity bills at random and giving poor services have resulted in campaigns such as #SwitchOffKPLC in 2018 that have unleashed a massive backlash against the company. Cries for energy justice have made energy a topic that people are paying close attention to, and therefore, there was hope that this would catalyse a national backlash against the Lamu coal project.
One of the major tactics the government deployed in its war against deCOALonize was misinformation to the community. High-level leaders promised the community jobs and compensation, glossing over the deleterious impacts of coal. For example, Deputy President Ruto assured the community of Lamu that the coal plant would not have any impact on their health, despite evidence to the contrary.
The Kenyan government even went as far as branding Save Lamu, a member of the deCOALonize coalition, as a terrorist organisation. Save Lamu received several grants from international agencies to continue its work in fighting for the rights of the residents in Lamu affected by the building of the Lamu port and coal plant. The government claimed that the money was sent to Save Lamu to conduct terrorist activities, and ransacked their offices. The government accused Save Lamu of being involved in the 2014 massacre carried out by Al Shabaab in Mpeketoni and Pormoka in Lamu County to discredit them. It is a testament to the deep ties Save Lamu has with the community. It is still a trusted and valued organisation in the area. Save Lamu’s partnership with organisations able to provide legal representation was also crucial for it to contest these charges.
Amu Power also repeatedly stressed that it would be using the best coal technology available to reduce the environmental impacts of the coal plant. It tried to build connections with the local community by installing a water tank near the farms, among other small projects, which we witnessed first-hand when we went to Lamu.
The Kenyan government even went as far as branding Save Lamu, a member of the deCOALonize coalition, as a terrorist organisation.
However, official documents collected by deCOALonize activists have indicated that Amu Power — the special purpose vehicle formed by the developers to own and operate the Lamu coal plant – was given the right to import equipment that did not meet quality standards and a waiver on the need to pay taxes on construction. This has made many activists wonder whether, despite Amu Power protestations about taking measures to reduce adverse environmental impacts, in reality equipment from old coal power plants in China was being exported to and dumped in Kenya. Indeed, when we spoke to an activist at the actual proposed site of the coal plant, we were told that although Amu Power said they were going to use cooling technology, such as “once through cooling systems”, which they tried to sell to the community as cutting edge, when in fact this was not the case. The activist told us that he knew the details about these technologies through his conversations with communities affected by coal plants in Gujarat, India.
Despite the sustained misinformation, deCOALonize has been extremely successful in making information available to the respective local communities. They did so through holding public meetings in local languages, regularly updating their website and making resources and short summaries publicly available. Members of the coalition have recorded the court proceedings, and held events that were made accessible via Facebook live, so that the community knew what was happening.
Providing a pipeline of information from the community to the courtroom: Engaging the community proactively
Importantly, local organisations, such as Save Lamu and the Centre for Human Rights and Civic Education (CCHRCE), have been able to channel community concerns into the courtroom and to react quickly.
For example, we learnt when were in Lamu that when the community reported that an access road was being built through their farms to connect the proposed coal plant site with that of the port without an ESIA being carried out, the representative of deCOALonize on the ground was able to feed this information to the legal team, who went to NET to get a stop order for the road. This pipeline of information proved to be extremely important as the local branch of NEMA in Mokowe town in Lamu County (where the coal plant has been slated to be built) was often kept in the dark about such constructions. Instead, for mysterious reasons, officials not based in Lamu were often responsible for making decisions that would affect Lamu. deCOALonize’s information intervention was crucial in bringing government regulators on the same page.
Save Lamu has also been able to engage the community to map natural resources in Lamu to better understand the impacts of proposed projects on different groups of people, such as the Bajun, the Sanye, the Aweer and Swahili communities, so that they can speak with one voice. CCHRCE has mapped perceptions of the community whose land is part of the mining area. They have also mapped the community resources, such as schools and hospitals, currently on the land to document the costs of razing this area.
Such engagement has been extremely useful in both communities learning about the impacts of coal as they had no experience with this fuel previously. Women in Kitui experimented with using coal to heat their sufurias and noted that it caused their sufurias to melt. Both Save Lamu and CCHRCE took community members and members of their respective County Assemblies (MCAs) to other countries, such as South Africa, so they could see for themselves the impact of coal on the site. They have created a documentary on these visits to archive this knowledge. All of this has led to a true grassroots movement against coal.
Importantly, we learned that these exchanges have allowed for the transnational sharing of resources and knowledge. For example, South African activists helped facilitate some connections between climate experts and activists from Lamu in order to bolster their case in court.
deCOALonize members have come strongly out for renewable energy as an alternative to coal.
Lobbying the government at multiple levels
President Uhuru Kenyatta gave speeches about his ambitions to move Kenya 100 per cent to renewable energy by 2020. There was hope that this would lead to the halting of plans to build the coal plant as Kenya couldn’t possibly become 100 per cent reliant on renewable energy if it still depended on coal. This hope was bolstered by the National Electrification Strategy released in 2018, which explicitly supported decentralised renewable energy technologies.
However, despite President Kenyatta’s pronouncements about renewable energy in Kenya, Kenya’s Power Generation and Transmission Master Plan 2015-2035 states that coal will have a place in Kenya’s future. Moreover, the Kenyan energy regulator had approved the coal-fired Lamu plant.
The contradictions made by various levels of government fueled uncertainty and anxiety in the campaign. Nevertheless, deCOALonize engaged with different government officials to try and gain their support against the coal industry in Kenya. For example, their conversations with the former Minister of Environment, Judy Wakhungu, led to her opposing the proposed coal plant publicly.
The campaign also engaged with the county government because they recognised the power that the county government had in approving the allocation of land for the coal plant, as well as to putting pressure on the national government to abandon such projects.
In order to educate county government officials about the potential effects of coal mining, deCOALonize facilitated county government officials going to visit communities that lived near coal plants so that they would understand the true impacts of such projects. They tried to get the officials to understand the effect such a construction could have on tourism, an important source of income in Lamu. Importantly, Samia Omar, the Trade, Tourism, Culture and Natural Resources Executive, publicly resigned after voicing her opposition to the Lamu plant.
However, despite President Kenyatta’s pronouncements about renewable energy in Kenya, Kenya’s Power Generation and Transmission Master Plan 2015-2035 states that coal will have a place in Kenya’s future.
When we were in Lamu, we heard from multiple independent sources that many tourists demanded their money back when they were promised pristine clear waters to snorkel in, but instead found the water in long-time snorkeling spots muddied because of all the construction in Lamu.
The engagement with the county government, plus Natural Justice and Save Lamu’s transparency and efforts to bring all government bodies on the same page, have resulted in county government officials walking out of meetings with the National Land Commission and LAPSSET when they found out that acres of land were claimed without them being notified. Thus deCOALonize’s strategy has been productive
CCHRCE has been doing great work, teaching the community how to avail of the various constitutional means at their disposal to petition the government and be heard. CCHRCE plays an important role in Kitui, imparting civic education.
Fighting for due procedure to be followed in court
This set a precedent for external costs to be considered for any large project. deCOALonize’s recent victory on June 26, 2019 has set an important precedent for the carrying out of environmental and social impact assessments for projects in East Africa.
The fight in court was not easy. The judiciary and the bureaucracy faced extensive political interference. In Kenya, the executive branch of the state has the most control over shaping patronage networks through its power of disbursing bureaucratic appointments and resources. Kenya has a long history of corruption scandals. Joe Khamisi’s explosive book, Looters and Grabbers: 54 Years of Plunder by the Elite, 1963-2017, details in painstaking detail the systematic pillaging of the country by people right at the top.
The advent of devolution has restructured the institutional landscape. However, efforts to “get the institutions right” have been foiled by flaws in the current legal processes, corruption, low institutional capacity, as well as the lack of cooperation of formal administrative mechanisms. Other researchers have found that devolution, instead of putting a stop to corruption, might only have led to a new mindset of “its everyone’s turn to eat”.
Activists we spoke to told us that NET is a politicised organization with its own agenda. Court files have mysteriously been misplaced. Court dates and places were changed at the last moment, making it very difficult for the organisers. This happened multiple times when the court members coming from Mombasa said at the last minute that they were indisposed. For example, on May 9, 2019, NET, without warning, postponed the much-awaited judgement. Petitioners from Lamu had spent time and money to travel to Nairobi to hear the judgement and had to wait a month to receive the judgement. The most costly incident happened when Save Lamu paid for the flights for international consultants to fly to Nairobi to testify against the plant, and the hearing was postponed at the very last moment.
In addition, since 2017, Parliament has proposed an amendment to the Environment, Management and Coordination Act (EMCA), such that even if an appeal is filed against a project in court, such a legal proceeding will not automatically halt the project, as was the case earlier. A separate appeal would need to be filed to prevent the project from proceeding. Activist Omtatah filed an objection. It is yet to see whether these amendments will go through. This meant that if Amu Power was able to raise the remaining 25 per cent of the project financing, the construction of the coal plant could go ahead. This highlights the importance of the other tactics that deCOALonize has deployed in its fight against the Lamu coal plant.
There have been other complex ways in which the legal process has been thwarted. Because elites in the county, especially those from Nairobi, were aware of the impending coal project before the local residents, they bought land from the residents at throw-away prices, knowing full well that once the project started they would receive compensation for their newly bought land. We heard a similar story about land in Kitui. On visiting some of the newly bought plots in Lamu, we saw that some of the owners had erected make-shift structures that they termed as “hotels” and “restaurants” in order to increase the amount of compensation they would receive.
This created a tension in the community, as many of the new landowners wanted the project to go through to obtain compensation. On speaking to residents of Mokowe county, we were told that in many cases there were many irregularities in the documenting of the area of affected farms by the National Land Commission to allocate appropriate compensation (as the community did not have formal land tenure), resulting in land being allocated to elites/outsiders not from the area.
There have been other complex ways in which the legal process has been thwarted. Because elites in the county, especially those from Nairobi, were aware of the impending coal project before the local residents, they bought land from the residents at throw-away prices, knowing full well that once the project started they would receive compensation for their newly bought land.
The process of allocating compensation for land in Kenya is a complicated one, and more monitoring of current processes and institutions is required. Lamu, in particular, has been subject to many land grabs in the past.
This is Kenya
In an article published in The Elephant, Keguro Macharia dissects the phrase, “This is Kenya”. He describes it as a site of “violation and exhaustion” – a tool used by the rich to perform the “gatekeeping” function of naturalising a system that marginalises the poor and a tool used by the poor to express frustration at an opaque system that repeatedly denies them anything but the most meagre of existences. In other words, “This is Kenya” draws a granite boundary between what can be fought, and possibly changed, and that which cannot. This granite box contains new more equitable realisations of Kenya from bursting through.
As we spoke to deCOALonize activists to learn about the different strategies they were using to fight coal, despite their success, we inevitably got the response: “This is Kenya”. Their use of the phrase indicated that they perceived the limits of the space in which they could mount their opposition. The interior of the bounds of “This is Kenya”, or the space in which they operated, corresponded to ensuring that mechanisms of due procedure as specified by the Constitution and the laws were followed by bureaucrats and the courts. The space outside of this, separated by “This is Kenya”, comprised one that was moulded and shaped by powerful political interests over which the activists had no control. And yet, this distinction was in many ways artificial.
We unsurprisingly learnt that the boundaries implied by “This is Kenya” belies the fact that outside politics seeps into this interior politicised bureaucracy and legal system. What is the point of documenting how a politicised bureaucracy and an imperfect legal system are actually experienced and navigated? Does this mean documenting the same tired corruption scandals?
Well, for one, in this case deCOALonize actually won this critical battle in court! We hope that by detailing how this heroic campaign managed to win, we can prevent ourselves from being boxed in by “This is Kenya”, and instead see deCOALonize’s victory in court as “This too is Kenya!”
Support The Elephant.
The Elephant is helping to build a truly public platform, while producing consistent, quality investigations, opinions and analysis. The Elephant cannot survive and grow without your participation. Now, more than ever, it is vital for The Elephant to reach as many people as possible.
Your support helps protect The Elephant's independence and it means we can continue keeping the democratic space free, open and robust. Every contribution, however big or small, is so valuable for our collective future.
The Axis-of-Evil Coalition in the Horn of Africa
The “Tripartite Agreement” signed between Ahmed Abiy of Ethiopia, Mohammed Abdullahi Farmajo of Somalia, and Isaias Afwerki of Eritrea is a “Trojan Horse” deal that could eventually destabilise the entire Horn of Africa region.
The political dynamics in the Horn of Africa have always been tense and volatile. Being a geographically strategic region, it has historically attracted competition among the big powers, with the region’s diversity in terms of population, norms, politics, and history rendering it susceptible to proxy politics emanating mainly from Western countries.
The countries of the Horn of Africa are Ethiopia, Somalia, Eritrea, Djibouti, Sudan, South Sudan, and by extension, Kenya, and Uganda. In this article, we focus on Ethiopia, Somalia, and Eritrea. More specifically, we shall examine how the incumbent leaders in Ethiopia, Somalia, and Eritrea have created a coalition to extend their terms of office under the pretence of “Horn of Africa Integration”.
The Horn of Africa region has been vulnerable to multipolar politics ever since, at the Berlin Conference of 1884-5, 13 European countries laid claim to Africa’s territories: Britain signed the Rodd Treaty with Menelik II of Ethiopia in 1897 that dominated the country’s administration, Djibouti came under French control while Italy took Somalia, Italian Somaliland, and Eritrea. By 1914, with the exception of Ethiopia and Liberia, all other African countries were under colonial rule.
Russia joined the race during the Cold War and supported the regimes in Somalia and Ethiopia, with President Siad Barre of Somalia and Prime Minister Mengistu Haile Mariam of Ethiopia becoming close allies of Russia. But despite their allegiance to the former Soviet Union, the two countries fought a vicious war from 1977 to 1978.
From 1960 to 1969, Somalia was a fledgling democracy led by civilian governments established through peaceful transfer power. The military seized power in 1969, led by Siad Barre who ruled with an iron fist until he was ousted in 1991, leaving in his wake a civil war that killed thousands of Somalis, and pushed thousands more into exile. In 2000, Djibouti called a reconciliation conference that brought together civil society groups and culminated in the formation of the first government since the beginning of the civilian war. The new government was short-lived, however, as the warlords who controlled most of the south-central regions resisted and revolted. In 2004, the second government was formed under the Transitional Federal Government of Somalia under the leadership of the late President Abdullahi Yusuf.
However, this government made the same mistakes as its predecessor, calling on the African Union to send troops to support President Yusuf’s government and escort him to the capital, Mogadishu. The new government and the Islamic Courts Union (ICU)—which controlled most of the south-central region—held several meetings in Sudan to try to reach an agreement, but the talks failed. A military confrontation between troops of the Islamic Courts Union the Transitional Federal Government backed by Ethiopian forces ensued and, after a bitter fight and great loss of life, the TFG entered Mogadishu. Following a political fallout between the president and his prime minister, President Abdullahi Yusuf resigned, and the leader of the ICU, Sheekh Sharif, succeed Yusuf after negotiations between the leader of the ICU and the international community.
The first elections since the outbreak of the civil war were held under President Sheekh Sharif and Hassan Sheikh Mohamud, a civilian and veteran academic, was elected. Somalia became a federal state with five federal member states under President Hassan who oversaw the implementation of the provisional constitution which had been adopted in August 2012.
Although there were allegations of corruption, President Hassan’s government was relatively stable. One person one vote elections were scheduled to take place in 2016, but they were postponed for various reasons, including the insecurity caused by the Al-Shabaab and disagreement between the federal government and the leaders of the federal member states and others. Despite the challenges, however, President Hassan Sheikh’s administration pioneered indirect parliamentary elections where 51 delegates from each clan would each elect the members of parliament. Although the process was not considered a fair fight, the transition was smooth. In February 2017, Hassan Sheikh lost his re-election bid, and President Mohamed Abdullahi Farmajo became his successor. President Farmajo received a warm welcome from the public and many accolades from the international community and the neighbouring countries. Indeed, many Somalis believed that he would be better than his predecessors and would deliver the one person, one vote in 2021.
The situation turned when the government extradited Ogaden National Liberation Front (ONLF) commander Abdikarim Qalbi Dhagah to Ethiopia, leading to a public backlash, protests, and fierce criticism of the government. It was the first time that a Somali person had been extradited to Ethiopia, a country that many Somalis consider the archenemy. Since then, public support for the government has plummeted. Intimidation, attacks, smear campaigns, extrajudicial actions, and incarceration have become the modus operandi of the current government and the Somali people’s hope in Farmajo’s government has declined dramatically. Meanwhile, Farmajo’s government declared the UN Ambassador to Somalia persona non grata and expelled him, leading to international condemnation of his government. The government of Somalia also cut ties with Kenya, a country which has hosted the largest number of Somali refugees since 1991.
It was the first time that a Somali person had been extradited to Ethiopia, a country that many Somalis consider the archenemy.
The mandate of the sitting president ended on 8 February 2021 without elections being held for a successor government. In March 2021, the Somali parliament unilaterally extended the term of the president for another two years, which resulted in a confrontation and a split within the National army. After two weeks of chaos, the parliament reversed its decision.
The long-awaited one person one vote elections became a pipedream and indirect parliamentary elections were maintained albeit with an increase in the number of the delegates from 51 to 101. The May 2022 parliamentary elections were been mired in fraud, favouritism, rigging, and massive irregularities and the country has been plunged into uncertainty.
Historically, Ethiopia has never held free and fair elections. On the contrary, the country has lived under a political dynasty and patrimonial leadership interspersed with coups. There has always been a power struggle between Ethiopia’s diverse communities. The Amhara, who collaborated with the colonial powers, enjoyed the support of the British Administration under the Rodd Treaty of 1897 agreement, and dominated the country’s politics. Both Menelik II and Haile Selassie marginalized other communities, especially the Oromo, the Somali, and Tigrayans. In 1974, Mengistu Haile Mariam overthrew Haile Selassie in a coup d’état and moved the country’s allegiance away from the West to the Soviet Union, leading to a proxy war in Ethiopia between the US and Russia. Mengistu was ruthless to his critics, especially the Oromo, Tigray, and Somali; he was known as the “Butcher of Addis Ababa” and the “Red Terror.”
Led by Meles Zenawi, the Tigray People’s Liberation Front (TPLF) ousted Mengistu’s regime in 1991 and Ethiopia adopted federalism under the Ethiopian People’s Revolutionary Democratic Front (EPRDF) coalition party made up of the TPLF, Amhara, Oromo, and the Southern Nations and Nationalities. The first mistake committed by the Zenawi regime was to disregard other communities, particularly the Somalis, who are the third largest community in terms of population. The second mistake was to nullify the results of the elections in the Somali region where the Ogaden National Liberation Front (ONLF) had won by a landslide, resulting in a confrontation between the Zenawi regime and the ONLF. After three years of demonstrations emanating from the Oromo region and spreading to the Amhara region, Prime Minister Haile Mariam Desalegn resigned in 2018. It was the first time in Ethiopia that a public office holder had resigned due to pressure from the citizens. Abiy Ahmed took over as prime minister in April 2018.
Eritrea was an Italian colony before World War II, but after Italy was defeated in the war in 1952, the United Nations tried to federate Eritrea to Ethiopia to as a compromise for Ethiopia’s claim of sovereignty and Eritrea’s desire for independence. Unfortunately, after nine years, Haile Selassie dissolved the federation annexed and annexed Eritrea.
As a result, the Eritrean Liberation Front (ELF), which was created in 1961, revolted against Haile Selassie. When Haile Selassie was dethroned by the Derg regime, former Prime Minister Mengistu Haile Mariam, who had led the revolution, tried to reach a settlement with the Eritrean Liberation Front (ELF) and the Eritrean People’s Liberation Front (EPLF) without success and insurgencies against his rule increased. In 1991, when Mengistu was ousted by the rebel movements led by Tigray People’s Liberation Front (TPLF), Prime Minister Meles Zenawi tried to keep Eritrea as part of Ethiopia, leading to renewed conflict with the rebel groups. After two years of fierce fighting Eritrea gained its independence in 1993 but the country has never held an election since; Isaias Afwerki, the first president, is still at the helm. After five years of a territorial dispute between Ethiopia and Eritrea, the Badme War erupted in 1998, lasting until 2000 and claiming more than 100,000 lives.
Mengistu was ruthless to his critics, especially the Oromo, Tigray, and Somali; he was known as the “Butcher of Addis Ababa” and the “Red Terror.”
Several peace agreements were brokered, including by the United Nations Mission in Ethiopia and Eritrea (UNMEE), the Algiers Comprehensive Peace Accord (ACPA), the Eritrea-Ethiopia Boundary Commission (EEBC), all culminating in deadlock, and Addis Ababa and Asmara remaining at loggerheads.
Horn of Africa Integration Project
With the exception of April 2018, when the former Prime Minister Haile Mariam Desalegn resigned following three years of demonstrations against EPRDF rule, Ethiopia had never experienced a peaceful transition of power. Abiy Ahmed, who was part of the EPRDF rule, succeeded Desalegn.
In the beginning, under Prime Minister Abiy, Ethiopia enjoyed relative press freedom, there was greater inclusion of women in politics, and the 20 years of animosity between Ethiopia and Eritrea came to an end, paving the way for Abiy to receive the Nobel Peace Prize in 2019. Abiy Ahmed visited Mogadishu in June 2018, where he met his counterpart President Farmajo. In a joint statement, the two leaders talked about strengthening diplomatic and trade relations between their two countries, with Ethiopia pledging to invest in Somalia’s port facilities. But apart from that brief statement, nobody knows precisely what the agenda of Abiy’s meeting with Farmajo was. President Farmajo has also visited Addis Ababa several times, but has not informed Somalia’s parliament what has been agreed between the two leaders. In December 2018, Eritrean president Afwerki visited Mogadishu and had talks with president Farmajo; the agenda of the meeting between the two leaders remains unknown. Somalia’s president also paid a visit to Asmara in July 2018.
Eritrea used to supply weapons and ammunition to the ICU during its conflict with the Somali government of the late President Abdullahi Yusuf, leading the Somali government to accuse Eritrea of supporting the extremist Al-Shabaab rebel group and as a result, the United Nations imposed an embargo on Eritrea in 2009. The UN lifted sanctions on Eritrea in November 2018 after the country reconciled with Ethiopia and Somalia. The leaders of the three countries, Abiy, Farmajo, and Afwerki, signed a little-known “Tripartite Agreement”. In hindsight, Abiy’s reconciliation with Afwerki was to enable Ethiopia to ostracize Ethiopia’s Tigrayan community and launch an attack on the Tigray region. Abiy’s secret agenda came out into the open on 4 November 2020 when he attacked the Tigray region backed by Eritrean troops. The coalition forces have committed gross human rights violations in the Tigray region, which has led to international condemnation against the brutality of the coalition troops and calls for Eritrean forces to withdraw from the Tigray region.
In hindsight, Abiy’s reconciliation with Afwerki was to enable Ethiopia to ostracize Ethiopia’s Tigrayan community and launch an attack on the Tigray region.
Meanwhile, although there is no smoking gun, there is a strong possibility that the Somali troops being trained in Eritrea are involved in the Tigray war. The Somali government had denied that Somali soldiers were sent to Eritrea for training but later confirmed this.
Despite the ongoing civil war and the political discontent in Ethiopia resulting from the delayed polls that were supposed to take place in September 2020, Abiy has decided to remain at the helm by hook or by crook.
The regimes in Addis Ababa, Mogadishu, and Asmara that I have called the axis-of-evil coalition have led the region astray through lack of an adequate response to the protracted drought, the unbridled corruption, the instability, and the internecine conflicts. The reasons behind the “Tripartite Agreement” between the three leaders were not and never have been to serve their respective people, enhance the trade relations, or improve security, but to keep a hold on power through their “Trojan horse” deal. This may lead to a revolt by the oppositions in the three countries that could finally destabilize the entire Horn of Africa region.
Moving or Changing? Reframing the Migration Debate
The purpose of the mass and civilizational migrations of Western Europe was the same as now: not simply to move from one point to another, but also from one type of social status to another, to change one’s social standing in relation to the country of origin.
Do we move to change, or do we move to stay the same?
That seems to depend on who we were, to begin with. In most cases, it seems we move in an attempt to become even more of whatever we think we are.
A good Kenyan friend of mine once (deliberately) caused great offense in a Nairobi nightspot encounter with a group of Ugandans he came across seated at a table. There were six or seven of them, all clearly not just from the same country, but from the same part of the country.
“It always amazes me,” he said looking over their Western Uganda features, “how people will travel separately for thousands of miles only to meet up so as to recreate their villages.
He moved along quickly.
“Most African Migration Remains Intraregional” is a headline on the Africa Centre for Strategic Studies website:
Most African migration remains on the continent, continuing a long-established pattern. Around 21 million documented Africans live in another African country, a figure that is likely an undercount given that many African countries do not track migration. Urban areas in Nigeria, South Africa, and Egypt are the main destinations for this inter-African migration, reflecting the relative economic dynamism of these locales.
Among African migrants who have moved off the continent, some 11 million live in Europe, almost 5 million in the Middle East, and more than 3 million in America.
More Africans may be on the move now than at any time since the end of enslavement, or perhaps the two large European wars. Even within the African continent itself. They navigate hostilities in the cause of movement—war, poverty and environmental collapse.
The last 500 years have seen the greatest expression of the idea of migration for the purpose of staying the same (or shall we say, becoming even more of what one is). The world has been transformed by the movement of European peoples, who have left a very visible cultural-linguistic stamp on virtually all corners of the earth. It is rarely properly understood as a form of migration.
It took place in three forms. The first was a search for riches by late feudal Western European states, in a bid to solve their huge public debts, and also enrich the nobility. This was the era of state-sponsored piracy and wars of aggression for plunder against indigenous peoples. The second form was the migration of indentured Europeans to newly conquered colonial spaces. The third was the arrival of refugees fleeing persecution borne of feudal and industrial poverty, which often took religious overtones.
Certainly, new spaces often create new opportunities, but only if the migrants concerned are allowed to explore the fullness of their humanity and creativity. The historical record shows that some humans have done this at the expense of other humans.
A key story of the world today seems to be the story of how those that gained from the mass and civilizational migrations of Western Europe outwards remain determined to keep the world organised in a way that enables them to hold on to those gains at the expense of the places to which they have migrated.
We can understand the invention and development of the modern passport—or at least its modern application—as an earlier expression of that. Originally, passports were akin to visas, issued by authorities at a traveler’s intended destination as permission to move through the territory. However, as described by Giulia Pines in National Geographic, established in 1920 by the League of Nations, “a Western-centric organization trying to get a handle on a post-war world”, the current passport regime “was almost destined to be an object of freedom for the advantaged, and a burden for others”. Today the dominant immigration models (certainly from Europe) seem based around the idea of a fortress designed to keep people out, while allowing those keeping the people out to go into other places at will, and with privilege, to take out what they want.
Certainly, new spaces often create new opportunities, but only if the migrants concerned are allowed to explore the fullness of their humanity and creativity.
For me, the greatest contemporary expression of “migration as continuity” has to be the Five Eyes partnership. This was an information-sharing project based on a series of satellites owned by the United States, the United Kingdom, Australia, New Zealand and Canada. Its original name was “Echelon”, and it has grown to function as a space-based listening system, spying on telecommunications on a global scale – basically, space-based phone tapping.
All the countries concerned are the direct products of the global migration and settlement of specifically ethnic English Europeans throughout the so-called New World, plus their country of origin. The method of their settlement are now well known: genocide and all that this implies. The Five Eyes project represents their banding together to protect the gains of their global ethnic settlement project.
In the United States, many families that have become prominent in public life have a history rooted, at least in part, in the stories of immigrants. The Kennedys, who produced first an Ambassador to the United Kingdom, and then through his sons and grandsons, a president, an attorney general, and a few senators, made their fortune as part of a gang of Irish immigrants to America involved in the smuggling of illicit alcohol in the period when the alcohol trade was illegal in the United States.
Recent United States president Donald Trump is descended from a German grandfather who, having arrived in 1880s America as a teenage barber, went on to make money as a land forger, casino operator and brothel keeper. Franklin Delano Roosevelt, the 32nd president of the United States was the paternal grandson of a trader named Warren, a descendant of Dutch settlers who made his fortune smuggling opium into China in the 1890s.
While it is true that the entire story of how Europeans came to be settled in all the Americas is technically a story of criminality, whether referred to as such or not, the essential point here is that many of the ancestors of these now prominent Americans would not have passed the very same visa application requirements that they impose on present-day applicants.
The purpose of migrations then was the same as it is now: not simply to move from one point to another, but also from one type of social status to another. It was about finding wealth, and through that, buying a respectability that had not been accessible in the country of origin. So, the point of migration was in a sense, not to migrate, but to change one’s social standing.
And once that new situation has been established, then all that is left is to build a defensive ring around that new status. So, previously criminal American families use the proceeds of their crime to build large mansions, and fill the rooms with antiques and heirlooms, and seek the respectability (not to mention business opportunities) of public office.
Many of the ancestors of these now prominent Americans would not have passed the very same visa application requirements that they put to present-day applicants.
European countries that became rich through the plunder of what they now call the “developing world”, build immigration measures designed to keep brown people out while allowing the money keep coming in. They build large cities, monuments and museums, and also rewrote their histories just as the formerly criminal families have done.
Thus the powers that created a world built on migration cannot be taken seriously when they complain about present-day migration.
Migration is as much about the “here” you started from, as it about the “there” you are headed to. It is not about assimilating difference; it is about trying to keep the “here” unchanged, and then to re-allocate ourselves a new place in that old sameness. This is why we go “there”.
This may explain the “old-new” names so common to the mass European migration experience. They carry the names of their origins, and impose them on the new places. Sometimes, they add the word “New” before the old name, and use migrant-settler phrases like “the old country”, “back east”. They then seek to choose a new place to occupy in the old world they seek to recreate, that they could not occupy in the old world itself. But as long as the native still exists, then the settler remains a migrant. And the settler state remains a migrant project.
To recreate the old world, while creating a new place for themselves in it, , such migrants also strive to make the spaces adapt to this new understanding of their presence that they now seek to make real.
I once witness a most ridiculous fight between three Ugandan immigrants in the UK. It took place on the landing of the social housing apartment of two of them, man and wife, against the third, until that moment, their intended house guest. As his contribution to their household, the guest had offered to bring a small refrigerator he owned. However, when the two men went to collect the fridge in a small hired van, the driver explained that traffic laws did not permit both to ride up front with him – one would have to ride in the back with the fridge. The fridge owner, knowing the route better, was nominated to sit up front, to which his friend took great and immediate exception; he certainly had not migrated to London to be consigned to the back of a van like a piece of cargo. After making his way home via public means, and discussing his humiliation with his good wife, the arrangement was called off – occasioning a bitter confrontation with the bewildered would-be guest.
There must have been so many understandings of the meaning of their migration to Britain, but like the Europeans of the New World, the Ugandans had settled on replicating the worst of what they were running from in an attempt to become what they were never going to be allowed to be back home.
A good case in point is the ethnic Irish communities in Boston and New York, whose new-found whiteness—having escaped desperate poverty, oppression and famine under British colonial rule on what were often referred to as “coffin ships” —saw them create some of the most racist and brutal police forces on the East Coast. They did not just migrate physically; they did so socially and economically as well.
It starts even with naming.
The word “migrant” seems to belong more to certain races than to others, although that also changes. When non-white, normally poor people are on the move, they can get labeled all sorts of things: refugees, economic migrants, immigrants, illegals, encroachments, wetbacks and the like.
With white-skinned people, the language was often different. Top of the linguistic league is the word “expatriate”, to refer to any number of European-origin people moving to, or through, or settling in, especially Africa.
According to news reports, some seven million Ukrainians fleeing the Russian invasion were absorbed by their neighboring European countries, most of which are members of the European Union. Another 8 million remain displaced within the war-torn country.
This is an outcome of which the Europeans are proud. They have even emphasized how the racial and cultural similarities between themselves and the Ukrainian refugees have made the process easier, if not a little obligatory.
This sparked off a storm of commentary in which comparisons were made with the troubles earlier sets of refugees (especially from the Middle East and Afghanistan) faced as the fled their own wars and tried to enter Western Europe.
And the greatest irony is that the worst treatment they received en-route was often in the countries of Eastern Europe.
Many European media houses were most explicit in expressing their shock that a war was taking place in Europe (they thought they were now beyond such things), and in supporting the position that the “white Christian” refugees from Ukraine should be welcomed with open arms, unlike the Afghans, Iraqis and Syrians before them.
Human migration was not always like this.
Pythagoras (570-495 BC), the scholar from Ancient Greece, is far less well remembered as a migrant and yet his development as a thinker is attributable to the 22 or so years he spent as a student and researcher in Ancient Egypt. The same applies to Plato, who spent13 years in Egypt.
There is not that much evidence to suggest that Pythagoras failed to explain where he got all his learning from. If anything, he seems to have been quite open in his own writing about his experiences, first as an apprentice and later a fellow scholar in the Egyptian knowledge systems. The racial make-up of Ancient Egypt, and its implications, was far from becoming the political battleground it is today.
Top of the linguistic league is the word “expatriate” to refer to any number of European-origin people moving to, or through, or settling in, especially Africa.
Classic migration was about fitting in. Colonial migration demands that the new space adapt to accommodate the migrant. The idea of migrants and modern migration needs to be looked at again from its proper wider 500-year perspective. People of European descent, with their record of having scattered and forcibly imposed themselves all over the world, should be the last people to express anxieties about immigrants and migration.
With climate change, pandemic cycles, and the economic collapse of the west in full swing, we should also focus on the future of migration. As was with the case for Europeans some two to three hundred years ago, life in Europe is becoming rapidly unlivable for the ordinary European. The combination of the health crisis, the energy crisis, the overall financial crisis and now a stubborn war, suggests that we may be on the threshold of a new wave of migration of poor Europeans, as they seek cheaper places to live.
The advantages to them are many. Large areas of the south of the planet are dominated physically, financially and culturally, by some level of Western values, certainly at a structural level. Just think how many countries in the world use the Greco-Latin origin word “police” to describe law enforcement. These southern spaces have already been sufficiently Westernized to enable a Westerner to live in them without too much of a cultural adjustment on their part. The Westerners are coming back.
This article is part of a series on migration and displacement in and from Africa, co-produced by the Elephant and the Heinrich Boll Foundation’s African Migration Hub, which is housed at its new Horn of Africa Office in Nairobi.
The Iron Grip of the International Monetary System: CFA Franc, Hyper-Imperial Economies and the Democratization of Money
Cameroonian economist Joseph Tchundjang Pouemi died in 1984, either poisoned or by suicide. His ideas about the international monetary system and the CFA franc are worth revisiting.
Despite being one of Africa’s greatest economists, Joseph Tchundjang Pouemi is little known outside Francophone intellectual circles. Writing in the 1970s, he offered a stinging rebuke of orthodox monetary theory and policy from an African perspective that remains relevant decades later. Especially powerful are his criticisms of the international monetary system and the CFA franc, the regional currency in West and Central Africa that has historically been pegged to the French currency—at first the franc, and now the euro.
Pouemi was born on November 13th, 1937, to a Bamiléké family in Bangoua, a village in western Cameroon. After obtaining his baccalaureate and working as a primary school teacher, Pouemi moved to France in 1960, where he studied law, mathematics, and economics at the University of Clermont-Ferrand. Pouemi then worked as a university professor and policy adviser in Cameroon and Cote d’Ivoire. In 1977, he joined the IMF but quit soon after, vehemently disagreeing with its policies. He returned to Cameroon and published his magnum opus, Money, Servitude, and Freedom, in 1980. The recently elected president of Cameroon, Paul Biya, appointed Pouemi head of the University of Douala in August 1983—then fired him a year later. On December 27th, 1984, Pouemi was found dead of an apparent suicide in a hotel room. Some of his friends and students argue he was poisoned by the Biya regime (which still governs Cameroon), while others believe that harassment by Biya’s cronies drove Pouemi to suicide.
International Monetary System
Writing in the turbulent 1970s after the breakdown of the Bretton Woods regime of fixed exchange rates, Pouemi anticipated the three “fundamental flaws” with the international monetary “non-system”: one, using a national currency, the US dollar, as global currency; two, placing the burden of adjustment exclusively on deficit nations; and, three, the “inequity bias” of the foreign reserve system, which makes it a form of “reverse aid.” All three issues have been highlighted by the economic impact of the COVID-19 pandemic.
Long recognized as a problem, the challenges with using the US dollar as the world’s currency have once again become apparent. Low- and middle-income countries (which include essentially all African countries) have to deal with the vicissitudes of the global financial cycles emanating from the center of the global capitalist system. As the Federal Reserve raises interest rates to combat inflation by engineering a recession—because if borrowing costs rise, people have less money to spend and prices will decrease—they are increasing the debt burden of African governments that have variable-rate loans in US dollars. Already, the World Bank has warned of a looming debt crisis and the potential for another “lost decade” like the 1980s. Moreover, higher interest rates in the US lead to the depreciation of African currencies, making imports more expensive and leading to even higher food and oil prices across the continent.
Pouemi viewed the IMF’s attempt to create a global currency through the 1969 establishment of the special drawing rights (SDR) system as an inadequate response to the problems created by using the US dollar. The issuance of SDRs essentially drops money from the sky into the savings accounts of governments around the world. The IMF has only issued SDRs four times in its history, most recently in August 2021 in response to the COVID-19 pandemic. With African governments dealing with falling export earnings and the need to import greater amounts of personal protective equipment—and, eventually, vaccines—there was a clear need to bolster their savings, i.e., foreign reserves. The problem is that the current formula for allocating SDRs provides 60% of them to the richest countries—countries that do not need them, since they can and have borrowed in their own currencies. Of the new 456 billion SDR (approximately US$650 billion), the entire African continent received only 5% (about US$33 billion).
Decades ago, Pouemi had slammed SDRs as “arbitrary in three respects: the determination of their volume, their allocation and the calculation of their value.” Instead, Pouemi advocated for a truly global currency, one that could be issued by a global central bank in response to global recessions and that prioritized financing for the poorest countries. Such a reorientation of SDRs could provide a way of repaying African nations for colonialism and climate change.
Secondly, unable to get the financing they need, African governments with balance-of-payments deficits (when more money leaves a country than enters in a given year) have no choice but to shrink their economies. Pouemi strongly criticized the IMF, which he dubbed the “Instant Misery Fund” for applying the same “stereotypical, invariable remedies: reduce public expenditures, limit credit, do not subsidize nationalized enterprises” regardless of the source of a country’s deficits. Devaluing the currency is unlikely to work for small countries that are price takers in world markets and instead improves the trade balance by lowering domestic spending. The IMF has become “a veritable policeman to repress governments that attempt to offer their countries a minimum of welfare.” The current international monetary non-system then creates a global “deflationary bias,” since those countries with balance-of-payments deficits must reduce their spending, while those with large surpluses—like Germany, China, Japan, and the Netherlands—face little pressure to decrease their surpluses by spending more.
The third major issue with the current international monetary non-system is that developing countries have to accumulate foreign exchange reserves denominated in “hard” currencies like US dollars and euros, which means they are forced to transfer real resources to richer countries in return for financial assets—mere IOUs. Pouemi claimed that “if the international monetary system was not ‘rigged,’ reserves would be held as other goods like coffee or cocoa, gold for example. But the system is ‘rigged’; coffee reserves are quantified as dollars, pound sterling or non-convertible francs.” Instead, in the late 1970s, governments like that of Rwanda effectively lent coffee to the United States by using export earnings to purchase US treasury bills, whose real value was being quickly eroded by high inflation in the US. Hence, we live in a world where developing countries like China and Brazil lend money to rich governments like that of the US. As Pouemi explains: “The logic of the international monetary system wants the poor to lend to—what am I saying—give to the rich.”
Pouemi was also a harsh critic of the CFA franc, since maintaining the fixed exchange rate to the euro implies abandoning an autonomous monetary policy and the need to restrict commercial bank credit. Pouemi also argued that the potential benefits and costs of currency unions are different for rich and poor countries, and that therefore it is inappropriate to analyze African monetary unions through a European lens. His thoughts are especially relevant at a moment when the future of the CFA franc and West African monetary integration are up for debate.
In theory, by fixing the exchange rate to the euro, the two regional central banks that issue the CFA franc—the Banque centrale des états de l’Afrique de l’ouest (Central Bank of West African States) and the Banque centrale des états de l’Afrique centrale (Central Bank of Central African States)—have relinquished monetary policy autonomy. They have to mimic the European Central Bank’s policy rates instead of setting interest rates that reflect economic conditions in the CFA zone. The amount of CFA francs in circulation is also limited by the amount of foreign reserves each regional central bank holds in euros. Therefore, “the solidity of the CFA franc is based on restricting M [the money supply], a restriction not desired by the states, but one proceeding from the very architecture of the zone.” As a result, the economies of the CFA franc zone are starved of credit, especially farmers and small businesses, hindering growth and development. In Pouemi’s words, “There is no doubt, the CFA remains fundamentally a currency of the colonial type.”
When discussing the possibilities for a single currency for the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS), Pouemi stressed that the potential benefits and costs of currency union are different for rich and poor countries. “There is not only a difference of perception of the mechanisms of cooperation” between Europe and Africa, “there’s a difference of the conception of common life. Economic cooperation as it is conceived in the industrialized West is the Kennedy Round, North-South dialogue, the EEC, etc.—in other words, essentially ‘customs disarmament’ or common defense; armament is the rule, disarmament the exception.” In Africa, however, economic cooperation is a positive-sum game. Conventional economic theory argues against monetary integration among African countries, since they trade little with each other. But to Pouemi, the goal of monetary integration is precisely to get these countries to trade more with one another. He also questions the view that monetary integration should come last, following the same sequence as the European Union from free trade zone to customs union to common market and, finally, to currency union. “This view is not only imaginary, it is practically non-verified; we have seen examples. Theoretically, it is indefensible: a 10% decrease in tariffs could be … offset by a devaluation of 10%.”
Pouemi also dismissed arguments that Nigeria would dominate the proposed ECOWAS single currency as another example of the classic colonialist tactic of “divide and conquer.” While he acknowledged that “monetary union between unequal partners poses problems,” these are “only problems, open to solutions.” They do not make monetary integration unviable. Such integration need not limit sovereignty. In a regional or continental African monetary union, no “currency would be the reserve of others. Each country would have its own central bank, free to conduct the policy that best suits the directives judged necessary by the government. The only loss of sovereignty following such a union would be the respect of the collective balance. It would not be appropriated by anyone; it would be at the service of all. It would be, for that matter, less a loss of sovereignty than the collective discipline necessary to all communal life.”
Pouemi advocated for an African monetary union with fixed exchange rates between members, the pooling of foreign reserves, and a common unit of account—like the European Currency Unit that preceded the euro. He thought that the debate over whether the CFA franc is overvalued is misguided, since there is no a priori reason for its members to have the same exchange rate. Fixed but adjustable exchange rates—as in the Bretton Woods system or European Monetary System—would allow each nation greater monetary and exchange rate policy autonomy. Settling payments using a common unit of account instead of foreign exchange reserves would help economize on the latter. Moving toward the free movement of capital, goods and labor—as envisioned by the African Continental Free Trade Area—would help diffuse shocks through the monetary union. Finally, such a union would need to have a common policy on capital controls or at least collective supervision of international capital flows.
As Pouemi so eloquently lamented: “History will hold on to the fact that all of [Africa’s] children that have tried to make her respected have perished, one after the other, by African hands, without having the time to serve her.” We do not know what Pouemi could have accomplished had he had the time to serve Africa for longer. All we can do is heed his call that “in Africa, money needs to stop being the domain of a small number of ‘specialists’ pretending to be magicians.”
Long Reads1 week ago
Genocide: The Weapon Used to Keep Ethiopia Intact
Long Reads2 weeks ago
No More Camp: Confident Despite Contradictions
Culture1 week ago
The Empire Strikes Back at Lawino: How Oxford Failed Okot p’Bitek
Op-Eds2 weeks ago
IEBC Up to Its Usual Mischief
Op-Eds1 week ago
Elections 2022: Mt Kenya Foundation Remains Mum
Long Reads2 weeks ago
Democratization, Welfarism and African Underdevelopment
Politics1 week ago
Moving or Changing? Reframing the Migration Debate
Long Reads1 week ago
The Politics and Economics of Knowledge Production: Crucial Aspects of the Struggle Against Western Imperialism