12

CHAPTER 2

LITERATURE REVIEW

This chapter reviews the relevant literature on transitional justice,

development policy priorities in post-conflict societies and theoretical approaches
associated with peace building through transitional justice. The chapter also
presents an overview of other peace accords (besides Assam and Mizo Accords)
in the northeastern region of India.

There are mainly three types of literature on the prioritization and

sequencing of post-conflict interventions: the literature that looks at the historical
trend in development priorities; the literature that looks at the experiences in
rebuilding post-conflict countries; and the literature that looks at the underlying
causes of conflict and tries to identify policy priorities. The chapter also presents
a critical overview of the contemporary practice of signing peace agreements and
post-conflict peace building. Krause and Jütersonke (2005) argued that
contemporary post-conflict operations were based on an assumption that a
sophisticated social engineering approach could provide an alternative process of
 13

state formation that occurs more organically. Many recent post-conflict

reconstruction and rehabilitation programmes have faced this paradox and to
them the major reason for this assumption is the missing connection, in the minds
of policymakers and practitioners, between security and development concerns.
The concept of societal reconciliation among various parties in conflict, state or
private, is therefore central to any post-conflict transitional justice approach to
peace building and the feeling of closure at individual and collective level can
help such a society to move forward on a development path much faster and with
greater success.

2.1. DEMYSTIFYING TRANSITIONAL JUSTICE

The concept of transitional justice has garnered the attention of scholars,

public officials, and citizens in post-conflict societies. The process of transitional
justice has increased since the Second World War. Now, more countries embark
on a process of transitional justice following political transformation, a series of
measures that often, though not always, includes trials of former offenders.
Historically, neither institutional mechanisms to ensure accountability nor
amnesty laws, granting blanket immunity, existed in post-conflict society; war
criminals and their human rights violations were unaddressed in new
democracies. Today, however, it is both possible and common for a perpetrator
of crimes against humanity to be held individually accountable in an international
or domestic context. Although international attempts at accountability in post-
conflict scenarios have been attempted since 1815, their efforts toward justice
were typically fruitless (Bass 2000). But, over time, things changed considerably.

In a striking example of individual accountability, on September 5, 2003,

Dragan Nikolic pleaded guilty to gruesome human rights violations committed
 14

during the 1992-1995 Bosnian War (Simons 2003). Nikolic admitted personally
taking part in brutalities against prisoners at the Susica detention camp, including
committing numerous murders, employing axe handles to beat prisoners, and
allowing Serbian soldiers and guards to abuse and rape Muslim women and girls
every night (Simons 2003). Mr. Nikolic was the 11th person to plead guilty at the
International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia in Hague, but his
guilty plea stood out. Mr. Nikolic had been the first man indicted by the tribunal
in 1994 and was not captured until six years later in 2000 when he went to trial
and pleaded not guilty. At his 2003 trial, however, the outcome was quite
extraordinary. For nearly 30 minutes, the German judge Wolfgang Schomburg
read the full text of Nikolic’s indictment, pausing after each paragraph and asking
Nikolic to affirm its correctness. Repeatedly, after each gruesome account of
crimes against humanity, Nikolic reasserted that he had indeed committed them,
responding “Correct” or “Yes, your honor” at Judge Schomburg’s pauses
(Simons 2003).

Trials like Nikolic’s have become more routine since the end of the Cold
War. Holding perpetrators of human rights abuses individually accountable
through trials poses a stark contrast to previous policies of overlooking past war
crimes. This “new age of accountability,” as UN Secretary Ban ki-Moon (2013)
has dubbed it, has reached every region of the world and has become entrenched
in international conventions; nonetheless, amnesty laws and the impunity they
ensure are also common among post-conflict communities.

Quinn (2009) defined transitional justice as “the process by which

societies move either from war to peace or from a repressive/authoritarian regime
to democracy while dealing with resulting questions of justice and what to do
with social, political, and economic institutions.” Through her empirical research
of states in the midst of transitional justice processes, Wendy Lambourne (2009)
identifies four key forms of justice: truth, socioeconomic, political, and
accountability. Truth refers not only to fact-finding attempts, but also to offenders
 15

acknowledging their responsibility in the conflict and how it impacted society in

order to best aid the reconciliation process. The process of obtaining the truth is
perhaps most commonly carried out by truth commissions. Socioeconomic justice
incorporates monetary “compensation, restitution or reparation for past violations
or crimes (historical justice) and distributive or socioeconomic justice in the
future (prospective justice).” The new government’s capacity to provide basic
services without corruption refers to the political justice aspect of transitional
justice and can be embodied through actions like institutional reform Lambourne
(2009). Finally, accountability entails legal justice and responsibility for war
crimes and can take a variety of forms.

2.2. INTERNATIONAL ORGANIZATIONS AND

ACCOUNTABILITY

The UN (2011) understands transitional justice as a multifaceted process.

According to the United Nations’ approach to transitional justice, the process
consists of both judicial and non-judicial components including “individual
prosecutions, reparations, truth-seeking, institutional reform, vetting, and
dismissals.” The UN stresses support for the rule of law, defined as:

“…a principle of governance in which all persons, institutions and

entities, public and private, including the State itself, are
accountable to laws that are publicly promulgated, equally enforced
and independently adjudicated, and which are consistent with
international human rights norms and standards. It requires, as well,
measures to ensure adherence to the principles of supremacy of law,
equality before the law, accountability to the law, fairness in the
 16

application of the law, separation of powers, participation in

decision-making, legal certainty, avoidance of arbitrariness and
procedural and legal transparency (UN, 2004)”

In order to establish the most appropriate combination of tactics to

facilitate the transitional justice process, the UN (2010) vows to encourage
compliance with international legal standards, account for the state’s political
realities, address unique contexts, and “ensure the centrality of victims in the
design and implementation of transitional justice processes and mechanisms.”
According to Olsen, Payne, and Reiter (2010) the implementation of transitional
justice systems are dependent on economic, cultural, political, and even military
imperatives of specific post-conflict societies. The objectives of transitional
justice mechanisms are to provide post-conflict states tools and strategies to
address past violence and launch national reconciliation. The adoption of specific
transitional justice mechanisms is dependent on shifts and opportunities that a
conflict creates (Ibid). Thus “transitional justice” evolved as growing field of
academic research that focuses on diverse set of models and approaches that
societies undertake to mitigate their past history of violence, human rights abuse,
as they move towards peace and social reconciliation.

Although transitional justice is clearly complex, accountability is often a

bastion of the transitional justice process and serves as the focus of this thesis.
Specifically, I am interested in why states with similar histories differ in their
pursuit of individual accountability for crimes against humanity. Accountability,
according to Grant and Keohane (2005), refers to the idea that “some actors have
the right to hold other actors to a set of standards, to judge whether they have
fulfilled their responsibilities in light of these standards, and to impose sanctions
if they determine that these responsibilities have not been met.” Kathryn Sikkink
(2012) refers to three different models of accountability when it comes to human
rights violations: “(1) the immunity or ‘impunity’ model; (2); the state
accountability model; and (3) the individual criminal accountability model.” The
 17

first model of impunity characterized the approach used prior to World War II,
when both states and state officials were granted amnesty explicitly or implicitly
after a conflict and were not prosecuted. After the Holocaust, however, when
demands for justice increased, the second model of state accountability became
common, whereby states were asked by the international community, usually
because of a state’s obligations as part of an international organization, to change
their policy (Sikkink 2009). However, the enforcement of state accountability
was weak, and human rights violations continued. The individual criminal
accountability model was utilized in an attempt to curb their occurrences,
although presently, it coexists with the impunity model that is still maintained in
some post-conflict societies.

Transitional justice is multifaceted and diverse empirically, and those who

committed crimes against humanity can encounter a wide range of outcomes in
the new democracy. Since World War II, various human rights treaties
established the obligation to ensure an appropriate remedy after human rights
violations have occurred. Born out of liberalism, Bass (2000) suggests that
universalistic legalism took root, and states began prosecutions in accordance
with domestic norms. These domestic, individual human rights norms were
assumed to apply universally, transcending sovereignty. Originally established in
the Universal Declaration of Human Rights in 1948, the concept of state
responsibility for human rights abuses was reaffirmed through the International
Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR) and the International Convention
on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination (UN, 1966). These
conventions primarily upheld the state responsibility model of accountability,
merely asking states to remedy their human rights situations given their
obligations as signatories of human rights treaties. States were not yet obliged to
prosecute specific people who had committed human rights violations. This said,
the individual accountability model was in fact established through later
conventions. The Convention against Torture and Other Cruel, Inhuman or
 18

Degrading Treatment or Punishment (CAT) was adopted by the UN General

Assembly in 1984 and obligates states to include torture as an offense under
domestic law, to investigate cases of torture, and to prosecute or execute those
who are accused of torture (Sikkink 2012). Furthermore, it establishes the concept
of universal jurisdiction in the event that domestic prosecutions are untenable in
Article 5, Paragraph 2 (UN, 1984). Universal jurisdiction refers to a situation
wherein a “state, without seeking to protect its security or credit, seeks to punish
conduct irrespective of the place where it occurs, the nationality of the
perpetrator, and the nationality of the victim (Reydams 2003).” Universal
jurisdiction has been invoked in a range of cases, notably that of Augusto
Pinochet.

Regional treaties like the Inter-American Convention to Prevent and

Punish Torture and the European Convention for the Prevention of Torture and
Inhuman or Degrading Treatment or Punishment further entrenched the status of
torture as a domestic crime necessitating domestic prosecutions on the individual
level in the late 1980s (Sikkink 2012).

The so-called age of accountability has been affirmed through a variety of

justice seeking bodies like the International Criminal Tribunal for the Former
Yugoslavia, established in 1993 by the UN Security Council to try individuals
accused of human rights violation in the former Yugoslavia (Sikkink 2012). The
International Criminal Court was established by the Rome Statute in 1998, which
posited that some grave crimes are pernicious to the international community at
large and therefore can be tried through this international court rather than only
through a state’s domestic judicial system. Other special courts, like the Special
Court of Sierra Leone, also illustrate the global presence of the individual
accountability model (Ibid.).
 19

2.3. CIVIL SOCIETY ORGANIZATIONS AND ACCOUNTABILITY

Civil society organizations (CSOs)1 have come to play a more critical role
in transitional justice and post-conflict peace building processes across the world.
The International Centre for Transitional Justice (ICTJ), a non-profit that strives
to ensure accountability after grave human rights violations, is emblematic of the
increased international attention devoted to transitional justice. ICTJ believes the
transitional justice process must address the core elements of criminal
prosecutions, reparations, institutional reform, and truth commissions (ICTJ,
2012). Many have criticized positions taken by ICTJ and other trial advocates for
suggesting a “one size fits all” approach to transitional justice. Critics argue that
a standardized approach deemphasizes local context and that only after
understanding the domestic situation can one “ask what, whether, and when
transitional justice interventions should be initiated (Fletcher, Weinstein and
Rowen, 2009).” Although trials of perpetrators of human rights abuses are often
a crucial part of addressing mass atrocities, victims stress that trials alone are not
enough, and some countries, such as South Africa, have embraced models of
transitional justice that legally exclude a prosecutorial component (Antje du Bois-
Pedain 2012). Nevertheless, ICTJ’s increased attention and role in a society’s
transitional justice process suggests that international non-governmental
organizations have played a larger role in the study and practice of returning to
normalcy.

1
The term “civil society” is used in this study as “the aggregate of non-governmental
organizations and institutions that manifest interests and will of citizens.” In this sense civil
society is defined as (1) the aggregate of non-governmental organizations and institutions that
manifest interests and will of citizens or (2) individuals and organizations in a society which are
independent of the government.
 20

Societies can choose to deal with those who committed crimes against
humanity with myriad policies. Perpetrators can face implicit or explicit amnesty,
trials carried out by the international community, trials through domestic courts,
or prosecution through hybrid tribunals. In Rwanda, trials regarding the 1994
genocide occur through three systems: the International Criminal Tribunal for
Rwanda (ICTR) set up by the United Nations, trials at the national level, and local
trials in Gacaca courts which were selected by the local population to speed the
pace of trying 120,000 suspects (Powers, 2011). In South Africa, on the other
hand, an amnesty policy was established as part of a bargaining process that
ended the National Party’s rule and brought the African National Congress to
power through elections (Gibson, 2002). The Truth and Reconciliation
Commission (TRC) was established immediately after the democratic transition
as a public medium to address victims’ needs as well as the amnesty issue (Du
Toit, 2009). The TRC was able to grant amnesties, and received 7,000
applications for amnesty, as well as 20,000 victims’ statements (Gibson 2002).
Although the TRC’s amnesty committee closed in 2001, only five cases have
been prosecuted through South African courts (Merwe, 2012). In Paraguay,
efforts to establish justice after Alfredo Stroessner’s dictatorship were mostly
non-judicial, and there was no explicit amnesty law. Instead, transitional justice
measures were generally confined to truth-seeking attempts executed by the
National Truth Commission (MERCOSUR 2011). Countries such as Sierra
Leone, Kosovo, Timor-Leste and Cambodia have established hybrid tribunals to
ensure accountability and reconciliation where international and domestic actors
work in tandem to uphold national law in accordance with international standards
(Dickinson 2003). In Cambodia, the Extraordinary Chambers in the Courts of
Cambodia (ECCC) were established to prosecute crimes committed during the
Khmer Rouge regime from 1975-1979 (Manning 2012). Upon the tribunal’s
inception, doubts arose regarding the capacity of the Cambodian judicial system
due to insufficient legal qualifications and corruption (Menzel 2007). Possible
 21

corruption and political interference came to light when the Cambodian

government tried to prevent several cases from going to trial in 2011 (HRW
2011).

It is evident that measures to establish accountability are increasing. Data

collected by Kathryn Sikkink (2011) provide a snapshot of prosecutions in
countries that transitioned between 1980 and 2004 where out of 100 such
countries, 48 had carried out at least one human rights prosecution. Sikkink
(2011) also demonstrates that cumulative prosecution years (measuring the
frequency and persistence of prosecutions) have increased throughout her period
of study in Africa and Europe, but Latin America undoubtedly leads the trend
with just over seven average cumulative prosecution years compared to the global
mean of nearly three. The trials in the Southern Cone provide a longer period of
study, however, since the original transitions occurred several decades ago.

In the Southern Cone region and in the American hemisphere more

generally, the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights (IACHR) and the
Inter-American Court of Human Rights (IACHR) have taken precedent-setting
action to embrace the individual accountability model of human rights. They have
asserted through various cases, first in 1988 and recently in the Gomes Lund case
in Brazil in 2010, that states must prosecute and punish individuals who
committed crimes denoted in the Inter-American Convention on Human Rights
(Freeman and Pensky 2012).

The Southern Cone provides a prime environment to investigate the trend

toward individual judicial accountability since all five of the nations, which
includes Argentina, Brazil, Chile, Paraguay, and Uruguay, transitioned from
authoritarian, military dictatorships to democracies in the last 30 years. Even
despite the trend toward individual accountability, amnesty still persists in some
Southern Cone countries like Brazil, while neighboring states like Argentina have
punished over 400 perpetrators of human rights violations through domestic
 22

courts. The divergence of accountability practices used to confront violent and

similar pasts suggests that other variables played a part in determining whether
or not amnesty took hold and persisted when military dictatorships ended. Given
the varying approaches to impunity and justice, this thesis will investigate which
factors determine the introduction and persistence of amnesty laws, using the
Southern Cone experiences to substantiate conclusions, especially the transitions
of Brazil and Argentina. This study can lend insight to further investigation of
transitional justice and what makes amnesty likely to prevail. Crystallization of
such factors that predict judicial accountability are especially significant in
today’s world, where many countries such as those who were part of the Arab
Spring, are embarking on their own processes of transitional justice as they
undergo political transformation.

Some scholars suggest that public opinion can serve as a catalyst to

derogating amnesty laws and beginning domestic prosecutions (Schneider, 2011).
Ruti Teitel (2011) suggests that “civil society plays a large role in keeping this
discussion [of transitional justice] alive, in pursuing what is necessary, more than
just elections, for a transition to be completed.” Public opinion can manifest itself
in a variety of ways. Popular demands for justice can be manifested by mass
protests in opposition of impunity. Public attitudes can sometimes overturn
amnesty themselves, as was possible in the Uruguayan plebiscites, or they can
influence the behavior of politicians or the judiciary who have more influence in
upholding or ending amnesty.

In Uruguay, the amnesty law was put to a public referendum twice, in 1989
and again in 2009. Victims’ groups waged a campaign to challenge the amnesty
law, but in 1989, 55.95 per cent of voters elected to uphold the Ley de Caducidad
(Lessa 2012). Human rights organizations also challenged the law before the
Supreme Court, but it too upheld the law in a 3-2 decision. In 2009, the pro-
change alliance tried to build upon a growing accountability trend, demonstrated
by public protests, human rights advances in neighboring Argentina, and General
 23

Pinochet’s arrest in London. Nevertheless, the 2009 referendum upheld the Ley
de Caducidad. Since both votes failed to overturn amnesty, powerful political and
judicial actors justified their pro-impunity positions as upholding the will of the
citizens (Ibid.).

2.4. DRIVERS OF TRANSITION IN POST-CONFLICT SOCIETIES

Which factors drive the nature of transitional justice or accelerate peace-

building and socio-economic development in post-conflict societies? Transitions
can be ‘pacted’, where those who held power in the outgoing regime retain that
power by establishing favourable policies in the new government. In contrast, a
‘ruptured’ transition characterizes one in which the outgoing regime does not
negotiate its exit, making trials more likely (Sikkink 2011). Both Argentina and
Bolivia underwent ruptured transitions due to tumultuous domestic conditions
that allowed for increased calls for accountability. In Bolivia, General García
Meza’s dictatorship engaged in unprecedented amounts of human rights
violations, systematic corruption, and economic mismanagement (Mayorga
1997). The nature of the Bolivian transition permitted García Meza’s opponents
to indict him. As Bolivian trial scholar Rene Antonio Mayorga argues, “Only with
this type of transition, a transition through rupture, or total collapse (as occurred
in both Argentina and Bolivia), has it historically been possible to open the space
necessary to bring military dictators to justice (Mayorga 1997).” With a ruptured
transition, the rule of law can be more easily restored, since those corrupting it
have left power and are now subject to its contents.

If the transition is pacted, amnesty is negotiated between the outgoing

regime and the incoming democracy. The likelihood of trials “develop[s] in
different ways in direct correlation with the paths of transition, particularly in
 24

connection with the visions and relative power of the different social and
institutional factors (Roninger and Sznajder 1999).” When transitions are pacted,
the outgoing regime tends to try to preserve their influence and prevent their
prosecution by establishing self-amnesty, and trials are less likely (Sikkink 2011).
Prior to Chilean democracy’s return in 1990, the military ensured that they would
retain influence in the new government (Pereira, 2005). In 1978, a law was passed
decreeing amnesty, guaranteeing that “all persons who committed…criminal
offenses during the period of the state of siege, between 11 September 1973 and
10 March 1978 (Roht-Arriaza 2005)” would not face prosecution. Moreover,
President Pinochet lost a plebiscite for reelection in 1988, but before his successor
took office in 1990, the military negotiated an unsupervised budget and the ability
to promote officers (Pereira 2005). These legal measures, enshrined in the pacted
transition, increased the durability of amnesty in Chile.

Related to the nature of the transition is the balance of power in the post-
conflict society. Andreas O’Shea suggests that “the mechanism or approach that
[the new governments] choose will depend not only on perceptions of what is
best for the society, but also on the balance of power between the society and its
former offenders (O’Shea, 2002).” Similarly, Roninger and Sznajder (1999)
contend that the way in which a society with legacies of human rights violations
deals with these issues is dependent on the balance of power between integral
social and political actors, such as NGOs, the government, and the military. If the
balance created by the amnesty law is satisfactory to these actors, amnesty is
likely to remain unchallenged. If, however, some of these actors believe the
amnesty law creates an inappropriate balance of power, the amnesty law is likely
to be protested, and its survival will be endangered.

Features of the judiciary have been used to help explain the presence or
absence of amnesty. Judges have the power to affirm, interpret, or annul amnesty.
Additionally, domestic courts are influential when international attempts at
 25

accountability are made: domestic courts field extradition requests, and these
international attempts may initiate an internal review of amnesty (Collins 2010).

The characteristics of the judiciary are often determined by the scope of

reform after democratic transition (Lessa 2012). As Abrao and Torelly (2012)
note in the case of Brazil, “the absence of a lustration process in the post-
dictatorship judicial branch has allowed for the persistence of an elitist and
authoritarian mentality (Abrão and Torello 2012).” Additionally, judicial reform
might consist of altering its procedures and architecture to make the courts more
accountable and independent of the former regime (Pereira 2005).

In addition, aspects of the court system, such as its reception to outside

influence, might play a role in its upholding or abrogating amnesty. Francesca
Lessa mentions that the judiciary in Uruguay was resistant to change and acted
with caution. Additionally, the judiciary had little training on human rights issues
and was initially impervious to international influences (Lessa 2012). Reception
to international law is particularly important when international bodies have
condemned a nation’s amnesty laws, since the nation’s court must enforce the
international decision for it to have any implication on domestic practices (Abrão
and Torello 2012).

The role of the judiciary is paramount in many cases because a nation’s

Supreme Court can declare an amnesty law unconstitutional, as has happened in
Argentina, Uruguay, and a host of other nations. In 2009, in a decision that
departed from previous Uruguayan Supreme Court positions, the Supreme Court
of Justice declared parts of the amnesty law unconstitutional, justifying its
decision by citing IACHR and UNHRC reports on Uruguay, IACtHR demands
to end impunity, and the Argentine Supreme Court’s momentous decision
nullifying their amnesty law in 2005 (Lessa 2012).The judiciary also plays a
crucial role in the nature and persistence of amnesty, but as Cath Collins (2010)
notes, “judicial branches of government in Latin America have often been
 26

characterized as essentially dependent on or subservient to executive interests.”

Whether this claim is true or not, it is evident that the executive branch can greatly
influence the trajectory of amnesty after a country transitions, especially when he
advocates for establishing accountability measures.

Scholars like Wright, Engstrom and Pereira (2005), and Sikkink (2011)
also acknowledge that action on the part of human rights organization can help
explain differing judicial responses to human rights violations. In periods of
impunity, human rights organizations might use creative strategies to circumvent
amnesty laws, highlight the lack of accountability, pressure those with the power
to make changes, and obtain external support to bolster their domestic efforts.
Often the actions of human rights organizations, although constrained by
domestic realities, can revive justice attempts by conjuring memories of the past
violence (Jelin and Kaufman 2009). When human rights organizations have
limited space to protest in the new democracy, it becomes more difficult for them
to challenge amnesty laws without facing harsh repression. A by-product of that
repression, then, is a more durable amnesty (Abrão and Torello 2012).

2.5. POST‐CONFLICT PERFORMANCE INDICATORS (PCPI)

FRAMEWORK

During the International Development Association (IDA)’s2 Thirteenth

Replenishment IDA13),3 the World Bank established an allocation framework

2
The International Development Association (IDA) is an international financial institution which
offers concessional loans and grants to the world's poorest developing countries. The IDA is a
member of the World Bank Group and is headquartered in Washington, D.C., United States.
3
IDA is funded largely by contributions from the governments of its richer member countries.
Partners meet every three years to replenish IDA funds and review IDA’s policies. The most
recent replenishment of IDA’s resources, the seventeenth (IDA17), was finalized in December
 27

designed to address, for a limited period of time, the special circumstances of

post‐conflict countries, and to provide them with access to IDA resources beyond
those they would receive under the regular performance‐based allocation (PBA)
rules (IDA, 2011a). A key element of this approach was the development of the
Post‐Conflict Performance Indicators framework (PCPI), a set of criteria
designed to assess country performance and tailored to the circumstances post‐
conflict countries face (IDA, 2001). The PCPI scores play a major role in the
allocation of IDA resources to these countries and, starting in 2002, to reengaging
countries as well (IDA 2011b).

The PCPI assesses the quality of a country’s policy and institutional

framework to support a successful transition and recovery from conflict and to
foster sustainable growth, poverty reduction, and the effective use of
development assistance. The content of the criteria reflects the emerging
consensus that development challenges in post‐conflict and other fragile
situations require a deep understanding of the links among the security, political,
economic, and social spheres (IDA, 2011a). The objective of the PCPI is to
provide a parsimonious framework focused on the dimensions that are the most
relevant to post‐conflict and reengaging countries that meet the eligibility criteria
to access IDA’s exceptional allocations. It reflects an understanding that countries
can pursue different paths to overcome fragility and conflict‐related issues, and
that in many countries information gaps pose a significant challenge for an
assessment of country performance (IDA, 2001).

The PCPI criteria and the allocation framework have been refined
periodically to incorporate lessons of experience and new insights from the
development literature. In the context of the IDA15 replenishment, it was agreed
that following a review by an external panel the PCPI criteria would be revised
and the recommendations of the external panel have informed the revision of the

2013, resulting in a record replenishment size of Special Drawing Rights (SDR) 34.6 billion
($52.1 billion) to finance projects over the three-year period from July 1, 2014 to June 30, 2017.
 28

PCPI framework (IDA, 2009). In recent years the international community has
increasingly focused its attention on the needs of fragile and conflict‐affected
states (FCS), countries that face particularly severe development challenges.
They are characterized by weak institutional capacity, poor governance, political
instability, and ongoing violence or the legacy of past violence, and they
contribute significantly to the MDG deficit. Because of the very low starting
point, the impact of well‐designed and effectively implemented aid programmes
in these countries can be high. Moreover, a country’s success in overcoming
conflict and fragility‐related issues also has a positive impact on its neighbours.
International engagement in FCS requires partnerships of organizations with
political, security, and development mandates and expertise; for example, the UN
and the Bank are working together to leverage their respective strengths and have
formalized partnership agreements (UNDP, 2008).

2.6. CHANGE INDICATORS

Another major study on conflict assessment model was done under a

USAID-sponsored workshop on Theories of Change Indicator Development that
was held December 14-15, 2009, at George Mason University‘s Institute for
Conflict Analysis and Resolution (ICAR) in collaboration with the Academy for
Educational Development (AED). The ‘Theories of Change’ is a simple,
powerful concept which can improve design, monitoring and evaluation of
programmes in conflict-afflicted environments. In general, a theory of change
states what expected (changed) result will follow from a particular set of actions.
A simple example would be “if I add more fuel to the fire, then it will burn hotter”.
The concept is analogous to a “development hypothesis” (USAID 2009).
 29

As applied to the conflict field, theories of change refer to the assumed

connections between various actions and the result of reducing conflict or
building peace. For example, one of the most popular conflict mitigation
strategies entails bringing representatives of belligerent groups together to
interact in a safe space. The expectation is that the interactions will put a human
face on the “other”, foster trust, and eventually lead to the reduction of tensions.
This strategy relies on a theory of change known as the contact hypothesis that
can be stated as: “If key actors from belligerent groups are given the opportunity
to interact, then they will better understand and appreciate one another, be better
able to work with one another, and prefer to resolve conflicts peacefully.”
(USAID, 2009)

Theory-based evaluation is an approach to evaluation popular in the

conflict resolution field. Theory-based evaluation utilizes theories of change to
focus evaluation efforts on the intended changes and the expected processes by
which an intervention may lead to those changes. The rationale for theory-based
evaluation is that by identifying the rationale for a programme, the programme
design, its implementation, and the programme evaluation will be more
appropriately related to the expected changes (Church and Rogers, 2006). Far
beyond evaluation experts, the concept of ―theory of change is gaining greater
attention within the conflict studies community (e.g., Shapiro, 2002, 2005, 2006a
and 2006b; Church and Shouldice 2002 and 2003; Lederach, Neufeldt, and
Culbertson 2007; Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development
2008). The concept originated in the theory-based programme evaluation
literature of the 1970s (Weiss 1972) and has resonated throughout the social
sciences (London 1996).

Indicators are signs that signal that particular changes have or have not
occurred. Indicators do not tell us how or why a change occurs (Church and
Rogers 2006). In the “if-then’ statement that is central to a theory of change,
indicators reflect whether and to what extent the “then’ has come about.
 30

Indicators may also be used to monitor to what extent the “if” parts of the “if-
then” statement are in fact present, as well as monitoring the larger context.
Indicators are not the actual changes, but are the ways we can see and measure
the changes. An indicator is a, “Quantitative or qualitative factor or variable that
provides a simple and reliable means to measure achievement, to reflect the
changes connected to an intervention…” (OECD 2008). While indicators may
also be used to assess programme quality, in the context of theories of change and
theory-driven evaluation, indicators provide ways to assess the output, outcome,
impact, and sustainability in comparison with expectations informed by the
theory of change guiding the programme. In short, indicators provide a means of
measuring desired changes connected with an intervention. While theories of
change seek to explain how or why changes occur, indicators show the extent to
which those changes have occurred (USAID 2009).

Evaluation of conflict resolution programming has been hampered by

difficulties in developing appropriate indicators. When the desired changes
predicted by a theory of change are concrete, tangible, and easily measurable, the
task of identifying an appropriate indicator is fairly straightforward. For example,
health programmes might utilize indicators such as prevalence of a particular
mineral deficiency as measured by blood tests in a sample population or
prevalence of a particular disease as measured by reviews of hospital records to
assess the outcomes of related programmes. However, the desired changes in
conflict management programmes are often more abstract and intangible, such as
seeking to improve relationships or increase trust or understanding among
belligerents. In such cases, indicators help approximate the change, rather than
measuring change precisely. Better indicators are closer approximates of the
intangible changes, such as improved relationships, that may be expected.
Components of indicators include what is to be measured, unit of measurement,
baseline, size, magnitude or dimension of change (targets), quality or standard of
 31

change, target population, and timeframe (Church and Rogers, 2006a). Specific
characteristics of these components make some indicators more useful:

- Direct indicators are closely related to the changes they are intended to
reflect.
- Objective indicators have high internal validity.
- Practical or feasible indicators are not overly complicated to measure.
- A set of adequate indicators, taken together, comprehensively reflect the
various aspects of the desired change.
- A mix of qualitative and quantitative indicators is usually useful for
creating a more comprehensive picture of development of the desired
changes.
- Data collection on indicators is also more helpful when it is disaggregated
according to relevant divisions within the target population and context
(e.g., tracking if a programme is affecting men differently than women, or
one village differently than another).

The selection of indicators to focus monitoring and evaluation during

conflict management interventions can be challenging due to several factors.
There is a temptation to replace objectives with indicators, for example by
counting mediation agreements as the measure of success when the actual
outcome expectancy goes beyond mediation agreements (Church and Rogers
2006b).

Moreover, a particularly difficult challenge is the desire in to utilize

universal indicators throughout many field contexts, although local realities and
cultures make universal indicators problematic. This is often the case in working
with social phenomena such as conflicts, in contrast to more objectively
measurable physical phenomena such as infant mortality. Rather than seeking
universally applicable indicators transferable immediately from one social
context to another, where there would be a danger of falling into an overly
 32

simplistic fill-in-the-box approach, conflict management experts may strive to

develop a toolbox of indicators that can be flexibly adapted, interpreted,
modified, or discarded according to local contexts (USAID 2009).

A toolbox of indicators provides flexible structure supportive of

programme design, implementation, and evaluation both informed by experience
elsewhere and simultaneously sensitive to the local conflict context. A
systematized set of indicators provides practitioners, evaluators, and researchers
with a range of reference points and a choice of templates on which to build an
appropriate monitoring mechanism for each unique programme. Researchers and
practitioners may develop new indicators or adapt existing ones as the theories of
change and conflict contexts continue to develop.

2.7. POST-PEACE AGREEMENT INDICATORS

In the post peace agreement context, a major study was done on the case
of Sudan by Centre for Nation Reconstruction and Capacity Development
(CNRCD) of the United States Military Academy (USMA) at West Point
(CNRCD, 2011). Southern Sudan had been at civil war with the north since 1955
for various reasons including religion, politics, and oil. The second civil war
ended in 2005 with the signing of the Comprehensive Peace Agreement (CPA).
The Comprehensive Peace Agreement (CPA), also known as the
Naivasha Agreement, was a set of agreements culminating in January 2005 that
were signed between the Sudan People's Liberation Movement (SPLM) and
the Government of Sudan. A promise outlined in the CPA was the opportunity
for Southern Sudan to vote for their independence from the North. The
referendum took place this January with 98 percent of votes in favor of
separation. This is great news for the people of Southern Sudan and champions
 33

of democracy worldwide. However, Southern Sudan is plagued by many of its

own internal problems and instability and there is the possibility of civil war.

In support of the emergence of South Sudan and other countries

worldwide, our research determined that the four main areas of focus in predicting
civil war or the potential for conflict were security, social, economic, and
governance. More specific conflict indicators were developed within each of
these functions. To better understand the inter-relationships of these functions a
Systemigram4 and a value model were developed (CNRCD 2011). Conflict in
Sudan is far from a simple problem. There are many factors that influence other
factors and add or take away from the possibility of civil war. The Systemigram
attempts to mitigate some of the confusion by providing a visual representation
of the problem in Southern Sudan which enables us to examine the links and
interactions between the functions and indicators of the system. The value model
is a mathematical model that takes statistics for each of the indicators developed
as inputs and computes a value which when added to the other indicators values
provide a total score indicating the likely progression of Southern Sudan toward
civil war. These two products work together: the intent of the Systemigram is to
show the interactions between the indicators and help validate the method of
scoring using the value model.

Based upon the value model and using the most up-to-date statistics for
each indicator a baseline is developed. The baseline can be used as a starting point
for future work in this area. The goal of the research is to develop a user-friendly
tool for USAFRICOM. Their analysts will use these tools as templates that can
be modified for predicting conflict in post-civil war states.

4
A Systemigram is a visual way to define interactions. Systemigrams are a
communications tool much like a causal loop diagram. A Systemigram is a portmanteau
word taken from systemic and diagram. It is therefore a diagram but one that is faithful
to pre-existing prose; in other words one should not attempt to construct a Systemigram
from first thoughts. Rather it is a structured translation of the words and meanings that
appertain to a piece of structured writing that for example captures strategic intent. More
details can be found at http://www.boardmansauser.com/thoughts/systemigrams.html
 34

Upon completion of an extensive literature research and stakeholder

analysis, CNRCD broke Sudan conflict into four functions: security, economic,
social, and governance. These functions serve as broad topics of interest by which
specific indicators are developed. Although these four functions do provide us a
basic understanding of the problem, they not clearly or distinctly show how each
element relates to other elements. While attempting to model all relationships
between security, economy, social and governance sectors of Southern Sudan, the
researchers needed a tool to help construct those relationships in a clear manner.
Hence, they used a Systemigram to help us understand the relationships between
each of the functions. By specifically identifying the most important elements
within each of the four functions, the relationships became much more
understandable. It was targeted to two primary users for this tool; the CNRCD
team, which was researching the individual post-conflict indicators, and the
United States Africa Command (USAFRICOM) analysts who would refine these
indicators and the weighted value model. The benefit of the Systemigram is that
we can easily search for how nodes are interconnected and influence each other.
Another benefit of the Systemigram was that the client was able to easily search
for how nodes are connected and influence each other.

Numerous tools exist which measure different statistics and compare them
on a state-by-state basis after the fact. However, no tools provide anything that
actually predicts conflict. Rather, they simply allow users to compare statistics
against other states. Conversely, the weighted value model developed here should
provide a value prediction of possible conflict before it occurs. Current systems
do not tailor their models to a specific state. What may fit a certain conflict may
not necessarily have a similar impact or relevance in other conflicts. For example,
the issue of cattle raids is extremely important in Southern Sudan. However, cattle
raiding may not really be a problem or may not even exist in another nation. Our
model addresses conflict indicators that are unique to Southern Sudan, providing
us with the most accurate results possible (CNRCD 2011).
 35

The weighted value model uses indicators that were developed specifically
for Southern Sudan. Additionally, the indicators in the model are weighted
according to their significance against each based on the variability of the scoring
range and the stakeholder importance. In other words, the weighted value model
developed by CNRCD Study has enhanced current models by providing a
comprehensive relational approach to the development of a predictive model
versus an after-the-fact model.

2.8. MULTI-OBJECTIVE VALUE MODEL

Multi-objective value analysis uses an overall value function which

combines the multiple evaluation measures into a single measure of the overall
value of each evaluation alternative or portfolio of projects. Thus, different mixes
of projects in a portfolio may be compared to determine the appropriate mix for
maximizing value. Multi-objective value analysis is useful for structuring the
judgments used in assessing the value of projects that comprise a reconstruction
portfolio in an organization with multiple and conflicting objectives. Multi-
objective value analysis methods are based upon structured objectives, evaluation
measures, value functions, and weights.

When using multi-objective value analysis a structured approach must be

taken to develop the weights, objectives and functions. In this paper we presented
objectives and functions based upon the experience of the authors, a literature
review, and input from some subject matter experts. We then surveyed a group
with experience in reconstruction to develop the weights. This provides a realistic
model to demonstrate the utility of this approach. This top down approach
provides a starting point for allocating resources. Ideally, stakeholders should be
involved at all levels. A structured decision process involving funding agencies
 36

and local governments should be used to develop objectives and functions. One
such methodology is Value Focused Thinking (Keeney 1992). Note that function
should always be quantifiable and measurable. Once these objectives have been
developed, the task of assigning weights can begin. Again, some type of
structured decision methodology should be used with stakeholders at all levels
providing input. In general, there is often very little disagreement on the
objectives, functions, and the quantification of functions. However, stakeholder
interests are reflected when assigning the weights. For example, one group of
stakeholders might place a high value upon security. Whereas another group of
stakeholders such as the local populace would place a higher weight on meeting
basic needs. Stakeholder buy in is critical with all parties agreeing to the
framework. Sensitivity analysis can play a key role here to show how varying the
weights over different ranges can have little or major impact on the objective
function.

At the top level, there is the fundamental objective – “Possibility of

Southern Sudan Transitioning to Civil War.” Supporting the fundamental
objective are the four functions: security, governance, economy, and social. The
indicators are listed under those functions. This study tried to determine which
objectives are most crucial to the stability and development of Southern Sudan.
The model includes all of the indicators that we deemed most important to
predicting Southern Sudan’s likelihood of returning to conflict, but not all of the
indicators are directly quantifiable. Those indicators that are not possible to
measure were excluded from the final prediction model since there was no way
to input data for those indicators.
 37

2.9. OTHER PEACE ACCORDS IN NORTHEAST INDIA

2.9.1. Shillong Accord (1975)

While both the Assam and the Mizo peace accords will be looked into
greater details in subsequent chapters as they are the main focus of this study, it
will be appropriate to look into other peace accords that were signed in this
region. This will help us to contextualize the ‘peace accords’ as a conflict
resolution exercise that was adopted by various governments at different point of
time. The first of those major peace agreements was Shillong Accord of 1975
which was signed between the Government of India and “representatives of the
underground organizations” from Nagaland. The major issues proposed to be
settled in the agreement were: the underground rebels were to accept the
supremacy of Constitution of India without condition, surrender their arms and
renounce their demand for the secession of Nagaland from India (SATP 2014).
As the historic agreement was signed in Shillong, Meghalaya, on 11 November
1975, it was known as Shillong Accord of 1975. The Indian government was
represented by Lallan Prasad Singh, Governor of Nagaland. The Governor was
assisted by M L Kampani, Joint secretary in the Ministry of Home Affairs
(MHA), and by two advisors for Nagaland—M. Ramunny and H. Zopianga.
Nagaland's underground organizations were represented by leaders including I
Temjenba, S Dahru, Veenyiyl Rhakho, Z Ramyo, M Assa, and Kevi Yalie -
younger brother of Angami Zapu Phizo, who was then-President of the Naga
National Council (NNC) and was in exile in London from 1956 till his death. The
Liaison committee of Nagaland Peace Council (NPC) was represented by five
church leaders like Longri Ao, M. Aram, L. Lungalang, Kenneth Kerhuo, and
Lungshim Shaiza (Vashum 2000). There were a series of four discussions held
with the governor alone; at times, assisted by his advisors and Joint secretary of
Ministry of Home Affairs (MHA). In all the four discussions held on 10 and 11
 38

November 1975, the representatives from underground government and liaison

committee participated. The outcome of these discussions was compiled into a
three-point agreement: (1) The representatives of the underground organizations
conveyed their decision, of their own volition, to accept, without condition, the
Constitution of India; (2) All arms will be surrendered at designated places that
will be finalized by representatives of the Government, the security forces, and
members of the Liaison Committee; and (3) the representatives of the
underground organizations should have reasonable time to formulate other issues
for discussion for final settlement.

A supplementary agreement, detailing the process of depositing arms as

per Clause 2 of Shillong Accord of 1975, was signed on 5 January 1976. The
"Supplementary Agreement" was signed by the Governor of Nagaland L.P. Singh
representing Indian government and the Nagaland's underground leadership
represented by Biseto Medom Keyho, Pukrove Nakhro, I. Temjenba, and Z.
Ramyo. The agreement included the implementation process of Clause 2,
including the modalities for housing the underground members in peace camps.
It was decided that the collection of arms, initially at collection centres, would
commence as early as possible, and will be completed by 25 January 1976. Initial
places of collection to be decided through discussion between Commissioner,
representatives of underground organizations and the members of the Liaison
Committee. Once all arms are collected, these will be handed over to Peace
Council team at the respective places of collection. Peace Council team will
arrange to transport the arms from collection centres to Chedema peace camp and
arrange guards, etc., for safe custody of arms. Similar arrangement at agreed
place/places will be made in Manipur with the concurrence of the Manipur
Government. The underground groups may stay at peace camps to be established
at suitable places, and their maintenance will be arranged only by the Peace
Council. Any voluntary contribution from any source will be made to the Peace
Council who will utilize the fund according to necessity (Vashum 2000).
 39

The signing of Shillong Accord is projected as ‘the final solution’ for the
two decades of Naga conflict that had brought a lot of sufferings and inflicted
pains on both the sides and the accord paved the way for surrendering of large
number of arms from the militant groups and the local communities
enthusiastically participated in encouraging the Naga rebels to come out and join
the mainstream. The agreement also seems to be a ‘victory’ for the government
as Naga rebels came to terms with accepting the Indian constitution, agreed to lay
down the arms, and above all, work out other contentious issues through further
discussions as part of final settlement (NIC 2014).

However, the ‘final settlement’ remained an elusive dream for many who
criticized that the Clause 3 of the Shillong Accord stipulated a vague "reasonable
time” for the underground representatives to formulate other issues for discussion
for the final settlement. This led to a failed or at best an ‘unimplemented’ peace
accord that most of the Naga people and the Naga National Council (NNC)
leaders (who were abroad) didn't endorse. Many of these dissatisfied groups
objected to the agreement signed by representatives of the Naga underground”
and not by the rebel organizations like NNC or the Federal Government of
Nagaland (FGN) (Vashum 2000; SAFHR 2014).

However, many Naga rebel groups who were still not reconciled to being
part of the Indian union of states directly opposed the Shillong Accord and
prompted factionalism within the ranks of the rebels. Phizo, then NNC president
in exile in London from 1956, neither endorsed nor rejected the agreement,
although his younger brother Kevi Yalley represented underground organizations
and signed the Shillong Accord. It is also believed that both Isak and Muivah
tried to convince Phizo to condemn the agreement but Phizo was reticent on this
issue (Sinha 2011). Both Isak and Muivah openly rejected the agreement,
terming it as a "betrayal" by the NNC and a complete "sell-out" of the Naga rights,
five years after signing the accord. Their statements included derogatory remarks
against Phizo, and they swore to fight for complete sovereignty of Naga people.
 40

Muivah, Isaac and S. Khaplang created National Socialist Council of Nagaland

(NSCN), breaking away from NNC on 2 February 1980. Though NSCN emerged
as a strong rebel group, it did not, however, enjoy popular support. The NSCN
further led to the birth of two other factions - NSCN (K), under Khaplang
leadership, and NSCN (IM), under Isak and Muivah leadership. On the other hand
the NCN also split into two groups after the death of Phizo on 30 April 1990 in
London into NNC (A), under Phizo's daughter Adino leadership and NNC (K)
led by previous NNC Vice-President Khodao Yanthan.

The latest mood among the rebels is "Naga sovereignty is our birthright.
We shall never compromise on this" as told by the NNC Vice-President
Kiumukam Yimchunger to a national daily at the NSCN (K)`s designated camp
at Khehoi. According to the newspaper report, during a joint coordination
meeting held with the NSCN(K), led by Khaplang in 2011, the NNC reiterated
its adherence to “Naga cause” and once again denounced the Shillong Accord.
They see the1975 Accord signed by the NNC`s Adino Phizo faction to have
‘compromised with the Nagas’ political rights through the Shillong Accord.
(TNN 2011). Ysimchunger said:

"We are a political organization committed to finding a solution to the

Naga issue. For this, we signed a memorandum of understanding with the
NSCN (K) on December 14, 2010. We respect the deal with Khaplang`s
group." He added, "We are happy the NNC and the NSCN (K) will soon
discuss administrative reforms for better coordination between the two
groups”. (TNN 2011)

Since mid-1990s, there have been several cases of continued violence in

Nagaland and the state witnessed a series of factional fights among different
groups and the government, which led to more loss of lives and affected the law
and order situation in the state and hindered socio-economic development of the
state. Government of India realized that the people in the state were disenchanted
 41

with the violence and wanted peace. The then Prime Minister Mr I K Gujral made
a statement in the Lok Sabha and the Rajya Sabha on on 25 July, 1997, and
announced that the Government, after talks with Isaac-Muivah group of the
NSCN, declared a cease-fire or cessation of operations with effect from 1st
August, 1997 for a period of three months. The cease-fire has since been extended
(NIC 2014).

Researchers are of the view that the Shillong Accord had a “principal
lacuna” in that it had not worked out a final settlement at the outset and kept loose
ends. The absence of a clear-cut direction as to how the ultimate settlement or
peace process with be laid out by both the parties left ample room for confusions,
misunderstanding and at times fuelled further factionalism among the rebel
groups, thereby giving birth to several groups of disgruntled element making
lasting peace far more difficult to achieve. The Indian government is now
engaged in just another series of negotiations with the NSCN (Issac Muivah
faction), but progress has been slow. These discussions have so far been held
outside of India and the Naga leaders continued to assert their original demand
for independence which the government obviously cannot accept or negotiate
(Sinha 2008).

2.9.2. Tripura National Volunteers (TNV) Accord (1988)

Like other northeastern states in India, Tripura has its own share of ethnic
conflicts. The tribal population who were in majority demographically underwent
drastic change due to large scale migration from former East Bengal and
subsequently from Bangladesh. As the tribals were pushed to the hills, and the
state was dominated by Bengali speaking locals and migrants, fierce ethnic
conflict erupted in this small state and went on for three decades (Bhaumik 2012).
Armed conflict started as a protest by the tribal groups against the large scale
migration which they thought is not only threatening their existence but also
 42

pushing them to the margins of economic development. The earliest organized-

armed tribal movement Sengkrak (Clenched Fist) was started in the mid-1960s
and went on till 1969 which basically opposed the settling down of non-tribal
refugees in the tribal reserve forest areas. The movement ended in 1968 (CDPS,
2014). Later, Bijoy Kumar Hrangkhawal founded the Tripura National
Volunteers (TNV) which led the movement ahead and continued its activities till
a tripartite agreement was signed on August 12, 1988, paving the way for the
surrender of the TNV cadres.

However, the tripartite peace agreement with TNV in 1988 has been
termed as a hasty step (Menon 1988). The peace accord was reached after 13
weeks of talks between the Centre, the Tripura Government and the TNV to end
insurgency in the state and was initially seen as “a new chapter of development
[that] can start in the state" (Majumdar 1988). But, unlike other accords like
Assam Accord, TNV Accord was not followed by mass acceptance or
celebrations and many tribals felt that the “TNV has mortgaged its demands for
a pittance and point to the terms of the accord” (Menon 1988). According to the
terms of the agreement, besides monetary compensation, the surrendering
militants got a number of things in their wish list like reservation of 20 of the 60
state assembly seats for the tribals, restoring the alienated lands of the tribals,
employment schemes for tribal youth, more tribal radio programmes, and
resettlement of 2,500 families which depend on shifting cultivation (Ibid). Even
for the TNV leaders it was far short of their initial demands like Union territory
status for the tribal districts, 50 per cent reservation of assembly seats,
introduction of inner-line permits to restrict outsiders' entry and deportation of
foreigners who came before 1965. Bhaumik (2012) terms the agreement as a
“ridiculous accord with Delhi that gave the tribals just three more reserved seats
in the assembly and its supremo, BK Hrangkhawl, the Chairmanship of the
Tripura Rehabilitation Plantation Corporation (2012).
 43

Within days of signing the TNV Accord, other organizations like Tripura
Students Federation, a wing of the tribal organization Tripura Upajati Juba Samiti
(TUJS), announced that it stuck to its demand of 50 per cent reservation of
assembly seats and introduction of inner-line permits. The tribals felt “cheated”
as the accord didn’t address their root cause of anguish. They have been reduced
to mere 30 per cent of the population from the majority of 95 per cent that they
were once. They saw the social, political and cultural dominance of the immigrant
Bengalis and the accord only made superficial overtones towards stopping the
influx (CDPS, 2014). The opposition party in the state Communist Party of India
(Marxist), as saw the accord as a ‘tool’ of Congess (I) the ruling party
(Chakarborty 1988). But, the Marxists lost the power in the state few months back
prior to the signing of the accord and their defeat to Congress (I) in the assembly
election was attributed largely to the reign of terror unleashed by TNV in the run
up to the election, killing over a hundred people. The central government, headed
by Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi, was seen as a protector of the Bengali
population, which was now almost 70 per cent of the state’s population. TNV
played a role in bringing the Congress-Tripura Upajati Juba Samity (TUJS)
coalition to power in 1988 (Bhaumik 2012).

The TNV accord, therefore, was not accepted by the aggrieved population
as a redressal of their felt ‘injustice’, that is, the immigrant Bengali population
outnumbering them in their own homeland. At the same time, the accord didn’t
offer any peace or reconciliation mechanism to the immigrant Bengalis hundreds
of whom lost lives in the state due to the long series of ethnic violence inflicted
against them by various agitating tribal groups like TNV. The images of brutality
against the Bengali population in the state and the handing out of financial
compensation packages to former TNV militants was a clear contrast to any
envisaged post-accord sense of ‘reconciliation’ among the affected population.
It was obvious that the TNV accord was doomed to fail and a new series of ethnic
violence started erupting post-1988.
 44

The TNV’s vice president, Dhananjoy Reang, revolted against

Hrangkhawl (who signed the accord) and formed the National Liberation
Front of Tripura (NLFT) in 1992. Later he was expelled from the NLFT
and he formed his own group, the Tripura Resurrection Army (TRA) in
1994 to maintain his presence in the tribal underground. The TRA later
surrendered en masse to the Government in 1997. One of Reang’s
lieutenants, Biswamohan Debbarma, took over as the president of the
NLFT and continues to head one of its factions. The NLFT has split thrice,
mostly along tribal lines. The differences between the Halam and Tripuri
tribal members of the NLFT is believed to be behind the second split that
led to the formation of the Borok National Council of Tripura (BNCT) by
Jogendra alias Joshua Debbarma in September 2000. The NLFT split
further in February 2001 due to differences between its Christian members
and the Hindu tribes, after which the group’s most dreaded field
commander Nayanbasi Jamatiya came out with 137 guerrillas. He,
however, made some heavy political demands which were rejected,
following which he fled back to Bangladesh, but his fighters almost wholly
surrendered to the Tripura police. Another group of nearly 80 fighters led
by Mantu Koloi also surrendered to the governor, DN Sahay (Bhaumik
2012).

All Tripura Tribal Force (ATTF) was formed in 1990 by leftist tribal
leaders and their two main leaders were Lalit Debbarma and Ranjit Debbarma,
who was formerly heading the youth front for the CPI(M). Lalit Debbarma and
his followers signed a Memorandum of Settlement on August 23, 1993,
surrendering with 1,633 cadres, but hard-liners led by Ranjit Debbarma
rechristened the group as All Tripura Tiger Force. Factions of the NLFT, ATTF
and occasionally the BNCT, unleashed a wave of violence and kidnappings in
Tripura between 1996 and 2003 (Ali, 2011). Another militant outfit, the All
 45

Tripura People’s Liberation Organization (ATPLO) remained active between

December 1980 and July 1983 (CDPS 2014).

The core issue at the heart of the militancy in Tripura was migration and
settlement of non tribals and its impact on tribal population in Tripura, which
became the crucial factor responsible for conflict. This demographic change,
tribal and non-tribal ethnic differences and “the history of bad experiences” of
the tribals under monarchy as well as in democratic system all contributed to the
conflicts in Tripura (Ali, 2011). Insurgency in the state has shown a sharp decline
and a report of Ministry of Home Affairs (MHA) in June 2009 shows Tripura
standing third lowest in insurgency-related incidents in the northeastern region
after Mizoram and Meghalaya (Kom and Brahma 2012). Though the TNV
Accord of 1988 did not yield much result and rather prompted many disgruntled
groups take the route to militancy, present day relative peace in Tripura is mainly
attributed by many to the successful counter insurgency operations rather than
from a transitional justice agenda adopted by the parties, According to Salim Ali:

“…when the tribals of Tripura felt they were being denied economic
security and equitable political participation…cyclic ethnic violence in the
State of Tripura was inevitable, if not intractable, in as much as the ethnic
minority is not given the sense of equity in the social, psychological,
economic and political space by the majority; political elites manipulate
these sentiments for their own personal gains; and the political and
administrative leadership chooses to ignore these factors (Ali 2011).
 46

2.10. MAJOR INTERNATIONAL PEACE ACCORDS

Since the end of the Cold War, hundreds of agreements, including about
40 comprehensive peace accords, have been signed by combatants engaged in
armed conflicts around the world (Peace Processes and Accords, n.d., para 1).
According to the Peace Agreement Database (n.d., Para 1) created by the
Transitional Justice Institute at the University of Ulster, over 640 peace
agreements were signed since 1990, addressing conflicts that affect over 85
jurisdictions. The Database lists peace agreements by conflict, and gives details
of the dates, parties involved, and gist of the contents of each agreement. Under
a category “dealing with the past” the database highlights the transitional justice
issues like amnesty, past mechanism, prisoner release, victims and institutional
post-accord processes with respect to criminal justice, policing, judicial system
and rights. It specifically highlights a range of other important issues like gender
inequality, civil society, and socio-economic/development. The Peace Agreement
Database, conceived and researched by Professors Christine Bell and Catherine
O’Rourke, is a continuing work in progress but a major source of qualitative and
qualitative data on peace processes, especially in the post-conflict period where
researchers can look for elements "quality peace" — one that goes beyond the
end of violence to include durable peace as the outcome of successful peace
processes.

Taking a cue from the database and past works on a few major peace
agreements across the world, the following sections of literature review builds a
reference point on how post-agreement transitional justice mechanisms appear to
work or fail under specific circumstances. This review exercise contributed
towards identifying the elements of the Model Framework of Indicators (MFI)
that the present study ultimately proposed.
 47

2.10.1. The Oslo Accords (1993-2000)

The Oslo Accords are a set of agreements between the government of

Israel and the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO) that are seen as ‘mother’
of all peace agreements in the long history of the still ongoing Israel-Palestine
conflict (DOP 1993). The Oslo I Accord was signed in Washington D.C. in 1993
and the Oslo II Accord was signed in Taba in 1995 (Peace Agreement and
Related n.d.). The Oslo Accords are the result of a range of peace negotiation
starting with the 1978 Camp David Accords and it marks the beginning of a new
peace process that was aimed at achieving a peace-treaty between the parties
based on the United Nations Security Council Resolution 242 and 338, and to
fulfill the "right of the Palestinian people to self-determination" (Shalim 1994).
The Oslo process started after secret negotiations in Oslo, resulting in the
recognition by the PLO of the State of Israel and the recognition by Israel of the
PLO as the representative of the Palestinian people and as a partner in
negotiations.

The major outcome of the Oslo Accords was the creation of the Palestinian
Authority with limited self-governance powers in parts of the West Bank and
Gaza Strip and an acknowledgement of the PLO as “Israel's partner” in finding
permanent peace in the region through negotiations (Ben-Porat 2005). The
agreement covered major contentious issues including borders of Israel and
Palestine, the Israeli settlements, the status of Jerusalem, Israel's military
presence in and control over the Palestinian territories and the Palestinian right of
return but it did not create a Palestinian state (Tilly 1997). The Oslo process went
through a cycle of negotiations, suspension, mediation, restart of negotiations and
suspension again. A number of agreements were reached, until the Oslo process
ended after the failure of the Camp David Summit in 2000 and the outbreak of
the Second Intifada (Pressman 2003). During the Second Intifada, another
agreement called ‘Roadmap for Peace’ was arrived at to reach a settlement on a
two-state solution and the establishment of an independent Palestinian state. But,
 48

like the Oslo process, it never produced an agreement accepted by both the parties
(Enderlin 2003).

The Oslo Accords were based on Camp David’s "Framework for Peace in
the Middle East" (1978) that envisaged autonomy for the local population
(Palestinian) of West Bank and Gaza. Like the Camp David Accords, the Oslo
Accords were also an interim agreement marking an initial step towards full and
complete peaceful settlement over next five years. While in the Camp David
process Israel and Jordan were the parties as the former regarded PLO as a
terrorist organization, the Oslo Accords recognized PLO as a party to the
agreement. As we have seen in our previous discussion how such an ‘initial
agreement’ in case of TNV Accord (1988) in India failed to achieve its final and
actual goals of peace as the parties left the remaining issues to be settled in due
course. The initial hopes created in such peace accords fizzled out as the concrete
steps were left for future negotiations and the parties were in some kind of hurry
to show some results to the world. The birth of several other rebel forces in
Tripura after the TNV Accord or the outbreak of Second Intifada in Palestine
were both illustrative of the fact that without a clear framework of post-accord
intervention by the concerned parties, the agreements were doomed to fail.

Besides granting mutual recognition to each other whereby Israel accepted

PLO as "the representative of the Palestinian people" and PLO recognized the
State of Israel, the Oslo accord failed to draw any concrete steps towards the
nature of the post-Oslo Palestinian self-government and its powers and
responsibilities, nor did they definethe borders of the territory it eventually would
govern. But, by May 1999, when the five years interim period ended, there were
no permanent peace agreement in sight and after the US efforts to rescue the Oslo
Accord at the 2000 Camp David Summit by reviving the negotiations failed, the
Second Intifada broke out and the "peace process" reached a deadlock.
 49

Both the parties were blamed for the failure of the Oslo Accords to achieve
lasting peace. The Oslo Accords did not stop the continued Israeli settlement
expansion and blockades which caused the deterioration of economic conditions,
and much frustration for Palestinians (Robinson 2000). In two decades since the
Oslo Accords, until 2013, the settler population is tripled and though the Israeli
government ostensibly decided not to establish new settlements, it created new
types of settlements called “outposts”, illegal under Israeli laws but established,
encouraged and supported by the government (Peace Now 2013). The third
Netanyahu government further intensified new constructions in settlements
scattered over all of the West Bank (Friedman 2013) and announced future plans
for large-scale construction in the area around East Jerusalem (Waage 2008).
Pressman (2003), summarized what went wrong with the Oslo Accords as
follows:

First, popular Palestinian discontent grew during the Oslo peace process
because the reality on the ground did not match the expectations created
by the peace agreements. From 1993-2000, many aspects of the Israeli
occupation of the West Bank and Gaza Strip deepened rather than abated.
Palestinians expected their lives to improve in terms of freedom of
movement and socioeconomic standing; when both worsened, significant
resentment built up in Palestinian society. This discontent, further fed by
the failure of the Camp David summit in July 2000, laid the groundwork
for popular support for a more confrontational approach with Israel. (pp.
114)

2.10.2. The Cambodia Peace Accord (1991)

The Cambodia Peace Accord, signed on 23 October 1991, brought

together the four Khmer factions and 19 countries who signed the agreement in
Paris which ended the 13-year-old war in Cambodia. It was mediated by the UN
 50

but termed as “a fragile peace” as violent activities, mob attack on Khmer Rouge
leaders and demonstrations erupted in Phnom Penh after the signing of the peace
accord (Yeong 1993). Under the accord, the United Nations Transitional
Authority in Cambodia (UNTAC) administered the country through five key
ministries like defence, finance, foreign affairs, interior and information on the
advice of the 12-member Supreme National Council (SNC) headed by Prince
Norodom Sihanouk till UN-supervised elections were held in April 1993. The
day-to-day administration will continue to be in the hands of the State of
Cambodia (SOC), the regime installed by Vietnamese forces in January 1979,
while UNTAC will oversee the running of five key ministries. It is the first ever
occasion in which the UN took over as the government of a state. Known also as
the Paris Peace Agreement it offered a comprehensive political settlement aimed
at ending the “tragic conflict and continuing bloodshed in Cambodia” (UNHCR
2011). Violent conflicts afflicted the country for more than two decades with
bloodshed reaching unimaginable levels during the 1975-1979 Khmer Rouge
regime when an estimated 1.7 million people lost their lives to violence and
famine (Ibid).

When the Paris Agreements were signed, the Khmer Rouge still controlled
parts of the country and fighting was on-going. The Agreements not only laid out
the process for ending the conflict, but for the building of a just and democratic
Cambodia, anchored in human rights and the rule of law. Under the terms of the
Accords, the United Nations would send a mission to Cambodia (UNTAC) until
1993 which would supervise the ceasefire, prepare the country for a new
Constitution and for free and fair elections. Importantly, the UN mission was
explicitly mandated to foster “an environment in which respect for human rights
shall be ensured” so that the policies and practices of the past should not return.
Professor Surya Subedi, the UN special rapporteur to monitor and report on the
human rights situation in Cambodia noted that peace and stability have brought
 51

“enormous dividends” to the country and that the Agreements would “remain
relevant until their vision is a reality for all Cambodians” (2014).

In 1997, more than three decades after the infamous killing of over one
and a half million people by the Khmer Rouge, the Extraordinary Chambers in
the Courts of Cambodia (ECCC), also known as the Khmer Rouge Tribunal was
set up. It was a step towards transitional justice delivery, though after two
amnesties were granted for Khmer Rouge crimes. It is a court established to try
the most senior responsible members of the Khmer Rouge for alleged violations
of international law and serious crimes perpetrated during the Cambodian
genocide. Although it is a national court, it was established as part of an
agreement between the Royal Government of Cambodia and the United Nations,
and its members include both local and foreign judges. It is considered a hybrid
court; as the ECCC was created by the government in conjunction with the UN,
but remains independent of them, with trials held in Cambodia using Cambodian
and international staff. The Cambodian court invites international participation in
order to apply international standards (Ainley 2014).

Kristen Ainley (2014) says that though ECCC was established ostensibly
to help heal the trauma of victims of Khmer Rouge atrocities and bring about
justice, it faulted in having a restricted mandate of the court that prevented a full
discussion of accountability in Cambodia. Though the establishment of the ECCC
was seen as a “victory for victims or for advocates of transitional justice”, the
limitations placed on operations doesn’t do justice to the victims of atrocities in
Cambodia. The issue of apologies by the accused in ECCC is also an issue that is
considered as a “very tricky proposition” by many from the dark context of
violence in Cambodia where there are hundreds of thousands, even millions, of
dead victims (Etcheson 2014).

The ECCC in Cambodia and the perception of people in post-agreement

contexts have highlighted a very different perception of justice and peace in
 52

society. According to a major report on the Cambodian scenario pointed out that
while justice is seen as an important aim in post-conflict scenario by the
population, its priorities moved more towards socio-economic development
factors like employment and fulfilment of their basic needs in areas of health,
food, electricity, roads, and even building of schools. In other words, a vast
majority of Cambodians today would like to address their present problems and
issues rather than seeking retribution for the past atrocities committed by the
Khmer Rouge (Pham, et al. 2011). This clearly indicates that the parameters of
‘success’ in assessing a peace agreement must incorporate the welfare
benchmarks more than addressing the feelings of animosity and a desire for
revenge against perpetrators of violence. According to this study:

When asked what should be done for victims, the population indicated
most frequently that providing services such as education and health care,
as well as providing justice should be the priority. The vast majority said
reparations should be provided and emphasized the need for community-
level reparations. The population further recommended most frequently
that reparations should be in the form of memorials, ceremonies, and social
services. (Pham, et al. 2011, pp. 5)

However, others still think that Cambodia’s Khmer Rouge Trials as a

transitional justice mechanism is a failure (Campbell 2014). Looking into the
outcome of the ECCC that delivered just five indictments and only one conviction
in eight years at a cost of some $200 million this criticism seems justified. It
appears that ‘corruption’ and ‘politicization’ are the two major obstacles that
hampered ECCC and some citizens went on to describe the ECCC proceedings
in such words as “no longer a legitimate”, “sham” and a “disservice to Cambodian
victims and international justice” (Ibid.). The actual number of indictments really
appears to be very minuscule compared to other such tribunals like in the former
Yugoslavia (161 indictments), Rwanda (95) and Sierra Leone (22) (Hazan 2004).
We found a similar pattern in the context of Assam Accord where respondents in
 53

this study were also questioning the sincerity and honesty on the part of the post-
agreement governments in delivering justice and working towards implementing
the terms of the accord. We will discuss the findings of this study in greater details
later, but, it should suffice to say is that one of the parameter of transitional justice
and peace in post agreement scenarios will be the commitment of the ruling
administration to carry out the responsibilities enshrined in the provisions of such
an agreement.

2.10.3. Dayton Accord on 25 November 1995

The General Framework Agreement for Peace in Bosnia and

Herzegovina (BiH) or the Dayton Accord brought an end to the battle in Bosnia
though it did not apparently guarantee a lasting peace in that region. Researchers
like Richard Caplan (2000) identified the structure of the agreement itself as a
major weakness that led to many challenges in interpretation for the implementers
of the accord. It has the potential of future success if the parties, especially those
executing the terms of the agreement, use the agreement as a broad ‘framework’
towards achieving the overarching goal of sustainable peace in the troubled
region.

During September and October 1995, world powers (especially the USA
and Russia), gathered in the Contact Group, applied intense pressure to the
leaders of the three sides to attend the negotiations in Dayton, Ohio. The Contact
Group was the name for an informal grouping of influential countries that have a
significant interest in policy developments in the Balkans. The group was
composed of United States, United Kingdom, France, Germany, Italy, and
Russia. It was first created in response to the war and the crisis in Bosnia in the
early 1990s. The Contact Group included four of the five Permanent Members of
the UN Security Council and the countries that contributed the most in troops and
assistance to peace-building efforts in the Balkans. Representatives of the EU
 54

Council, EU Presidency, European Commission and NATO generally attended

Contact Group meetings. The conference took place from 1–21 November 1995.
The main participants from the region were the President of the Federal Republic
of Yugoslavia Slobodan Milošević (representing the Bosnian Serb interests due
to absence of Karadžić), President of Croatia Franjo Tuđman, and President of
Bosnia and Herzegovina Alija Izetbegović with his Foreign Minister Muhamed
Sacirbey (Moe, n.d.).

After having been initialed in Dayton, Ohio, on 21 November 1995, the

full and formal agreement was signed in Paris on 14 December 1995 and
witnessed by French President Jacques Chirac, US President Bill Clinton, UK
Prime Minister John Major, German Chancellor Helmut Kohl and Russian Prime
Minister Viktor Chernomyrdin. The Dayton Accord basically put forward a
‘framework’ or a roadmap for peace in Bosnia as well as Herzegovina. It was
received with a mixed feeling relief as well as skepticism, achievement as well as
uneasiness by the parties (Scilino, Cohen and Engelberg 1995, Holbrooke 1998).
After four years of prolonged discussions and consultations parties involved were
desperately looking for some settlement and an end to the battle that brought mote
deaths to Europe than the World War II. The placement of multi-country ground
soldiers or Implementation Force (IFOR) for next twelve months as provisioned
in the agreement was seen as an immediate relief to the victims of the devastating
war (Caplan 2000). But issues of transitional justice, mechanism for lasting
peace, reconciliation and rehabilitation of the displaced people were some critical
issues that were still unanswered (Gow 1997).

Today, the success of the peace agreement still remains an open question.
The difficulties facing BiH agreement were multidimensional as it needed a four
way transition: from war to peace, command economy to market economy,
authoritarianism to a constrained parliamentary democracy, and now from
Yugoslav governance norms to those of the European Union (Pugh 2005).
According to researcher Gearóid Ó Tuathail (2006), large-scale unemployment,
 55

economic restructuring issues, access to quality education are ‘endemic

problems’ across the region and contributes to the structural weaknesses of the
state. In his words:

Bosnia has been born with many geopolitical disadvantages but with no
predetermined destiny. Paddy Ashdown’s5 tenure as the OHR6 in BiH has
moved the country on a common trajectory towards Brussels. While the
OHR metanarrative can be criticised as overly optimistic at times, it is a
powerful political force in Bosnian political life. Whether it remains a
catalyzing consensus for reform uniting Bosnia’s three nations when the
OHR eventually closes is an open question. What is clear is that BiH still
has a considerable journey to sustainability as a state (Tuathail 2006, pp.
155).

That a lasting peace in the region will be difficult to achieve was very clear
from the beginning in spite of the optimism of the European leaders as there were
many challenges to the Dayton Agreement numerous reasons a resilient peace
may confirm. Various warring parties were not taken onboard during the
negotiation process and as such their response was at best non-committal (Scilino,
et al. 1995). The external parties or mediators were not giving any certainty as
per as proper and truthful implementation of the accord was concerned. Above
all, the structural mismatch that existed in the conceptual understanding about the

5
Jeremy John Durham Ashdown, usually known as Paddy Ashdown, is a British politician and
diplomat. After leaving British politics, he took up the post of the High Representative for Bosnia
and Herzegovina on 27 May 2002, reflecting his long-time advocacy of international intervention
in that region. He succeeded Wolfgang Petritsch in the position created under the Dayton
Agreement. Paddy Ashdown had many successes during his time as High Representative,
including strengthening the central state institutions, bringing in statewide legal bodies such as
State Investigation and Protection Agency and bringing the two ethnic armies under a central
civilian command.
6
The High Representative for Bosnia and Herzegovina, with the Office of the High
Representative (OHR) in Bosnia and Herzegovina, was created in 1995 immediately after the
Dayton Peace Agreement (DPA) to oversee the civilian implementation of this agreement. The
High Representative and the OHR represent the countries involved in the Dayton Accords
through the Peace Implementation Council (PIC). As of 2013 all of the High Representatives
have been from European Union countries, while their principal deputies have been from the
United States. Principal Deputy High Representative serves the role of Brčko District Supervisor.
 56

realities of the region and the Contact Group mediators indirectly perpetuated
ethnic discrimination. The arrangements of the accord were dealing with such
generally sovereign structural issues among the three parties involved and also
concerned about the format of the new constitution.

2.10.4. The Philippines Peace Agreements (1996-2014)

The conflict in Philippines goes back to Spanish colonial times but it took
a critical turn after the country’s independence in 1946 when the successive
government encouraged Filipinos from mainland to migrate to the South. The
new settlers gradually outnumbered and marginalized the local Moros. This
unchecked migration led to violent conflict between the indigenous population
and the influx of immigrants grew. By 1972, a full-scale civil war broke out
(Williams 2010). Today, the descendants’ migrants claim their legitimate
inheritance rights over the land while the local population oppose the planned
migration and settlement of the mainland population in the South. This reminds
us of the violence and conflict in Tripura in India (discussed earlier) where a same
kind of indigenous versus migrants conflict gave rise to a series of long drawn
ethnic struggles.

Since 1960s Philippines witnessed a number of revolutionary movements

demanding the liberation of Bangsamoro (Moro nation), the Moro National
Liberation Front (MNLF), under the leadership of Prof Nur Misuari. MNLF led
armed struggle engaged the Philippines government forces from 1972 to 1976.
On August 1, 1989, under the mandate of the new 1987 Constitution, Congress
enacted Republic Act 6734 authorizing the creation of the Autonomous Region
in Muslim Mindanao (Tan 1993). However, the Tripoli Agreement was not
successful and instead of a unanimous acceptance it created factions in the ranks
of the organization as some leaders preferred independence over autonomy
(Bertrand 2000). Unfortunately, other factions within the MNLF were not
 57

satisfied with this Tripoli Agreement and saw this as abandoning their goal of
complete secession from Philippine as well as from the 1976 framework of the
Tripoli Agreement. Thus, a group of officers led by Hashim Salamat broke away
and formed the Moro Islamic Liberation Front (MILF) to continue their armed
struggle for an independent Bangsamoro in Mindanao (Sadian 2012). MILF
became a new challenge to President Ramos’ efforts to reach a peaceful
settlement in Mindanao after two decades of negotiations with the MNLF
(Bertrand 2000).

By their resilience and continuous struggle against six successive

governments and five Presidents, the two rebel groups succeeded in building up
a constant pressure on the government in Manila. The armed struggle was
justified by MNLF on the non-implementation of the earlier Tripoli Agreement
of 1976 brokered by Muammar Gaddafi of Libya. It was originally signed by
Ferdinand Marcos and later included and now accepted under the peace
agreement signed by Philippine President Fidel Ramos in the Final Peace
Agreement. This agreement established an autonomous region for Moros with
Misuari as Governor (Bertrand 2000). President Fidel V. Ramos, with mediation
from foreign Muslim leaders like Gaddafi tried to solve the problem in Mindanao
and ultimately succeeded. The Philippine government was able to sign the Final
Peace Agreement with the MNLF in September 1996 what was supposed to be
the end of the Moro armed struggle in Mindanao. Further, an Agreement on
General Cessation of Hostilities between the two parties was signed in July 1997.

The Final Peace Agreement of 1996 marked a watershed in the history of

armed conflicts in Philippines that was envisaged to end 24 years of violence that
took over 120,000 lives but it failed again to chart a way to sustainable peace
mainly due to, like the older agreement of 1976, lack of proper and acceptable
implementation of the accord (Williams 2010; Stankovitch and Carl 1999).
President Ramos saw the 1996 agreement as a reflection of “an aspiration to total
peace and development for all”, especially for the people of the southern region.
 58

The agreement was not expected to end all violence in Mindanao as there
remained groups like MILF, Abu Sayyaf, Islamic Command Council (ICC), left
wing New People’s Army and Revolutionary People’s Army. According to
Stankovitch and Carl (1999) the agreement was susceptible to failure from the
very beginning as it only included one of the rebel groups and excluded other
parties and civil society groups. Though the MNLF was the choice of the
government to negotiate with, as it had got the recognition of larger world bodies
like Organization of Islamic Countries (OIC), the government was trying to send
the right kind of signal to the world outside that it was sincerely trying to address
the issues of the Moro people. To some extent, the intent of the government
yielded results as shortly after the agreement was signed the MILF also
announced that it will negotiate with the government.

However, with the Final Peace Agreement in the backdrop, major military
offensives were launched against MILF in 1997, 2000 and 2003 (Cagoco-Guiam
2003). A series of events and changes in government after the 1996 agreement
showed that it was far from a ‘final’ peace agreement. President Estrada who
succeeded Ramos in power took a more combative mode against the MILF and
even the later peace efforts of President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo faced many
setbacks. The bottom line of success in any peace agreement remained the same,
among other things, the absence of mistrust between the parties and
accompanying socio-economic development of the population concerned. The
negligible development funds flow to Mindanao from the Philippines government
showed once again that it takes much more than right kind of words on the
agreement to achieve lasting peace. We saw the same kind of reflection in our
own backyard in northeastern region in India where ethnic conflicts were taking
root from a perceived sense of neglect and anger against the central government
in New Delhi (Bhaumik 1998). Cagoco-Guiam (2003) thus enlists a number of
thumb rules for the prospect of peace in post agreement Philippines that can also
be said to be true of all other peace building exercises through the negotiated
 59

agreement route: removal of distrust among the parties, involvement of

supplementary inter-faith dialogues, removal of selective patronage of any party,
tackling the interests of the external parties or foreign governments and
organization in the peace process, fair allocation of development funds to the
affected regions and sincerity on the part of implementing machineries of
administration to put in efforts where their mouths are.

Another important episode in Philippines’ story was the Memorandum of

Agreement on the Muslim Ancestral Domain (MOA-AD) finalized in Malaysia
on July 27, 2009. Under this agreement, some 700 villages in Mindanao would
hold a referendum within a year to determine if they intend to join the
“Bangsamoro Juridical Entity,” an associated state which would be formed after
the necessary constitutional amendments are undertaken by the government. This
agreement was scheduled to be signed on August 5, 2009 with the final peace
agreement set to be concluded by November of that year. However, just three
days before the scheduled signing of the MOA-AD, local officials of North
Cotabato filed a case asking the Supreme Court to block the signing of this
agreement. On October 14, the Court voted 9-6 to strike down the MOA-AD as
unconstitutional. According to the decision penned by Justice Conchita Carpio
Morales:

“…the Constitution does not recognize any state within this country other
than the Philippine State, much less does it provide for the possibility of
any transitory status to prepare any part of Philippine territory for
independence.” (Supreme Court 2008)

Further, the Court also held as unconstitutional the proposed guarantees

drafted under the MOA-AD to bring the necessary constitutional amendments to
create a constitutional framework for its implementation. According to the
Supreme Court, the peace negotiators or the President of Philippines did not have
the constitutional authority to make such promises that needs amendments to the
 60

Constitution because such power being vested exclusively in Congress. The

junking of the MOA-AD marked another setback for the peace process, with the
armed conflicts for the year 2008 reaching a record-high of 30 incidents in
Mindanao. In an effort to salvage the negotiations, Arroyo declared the
suspension of military operations against the MILF on July 2009 (Williams
2010).

This legal debacle in the Philippines peace process comes very close to a
similar situation in the Assam Accord case although the latter was already signed
and sealed by the parties. Prior to the signing of Assam Accord in 1985, the
central government brought in a legislation called Illegal Migrants
(Determination by Tribunals) Act 198, known as IMDT Act, which was passed
by the Indian Parliament on December 12, 1983 (IMDT 1983). The Foreigners
Act, 1946, applies to all the foreigners throughout India, but the IMDT Act which
was enacted subsequently with the professed aim of making detection and
deportation of the illegal migrants residing in Assam only (Foreigners Act 1946).
The Foreigners Act, 1946 defines a foreigner as a person who is not a citizen of
India and Section 9 of the Act states that, where the nationality of a person is not
evident as per preceding section 8, the onus of proving whether a person is a
foreigner or not, shall lie upon such person. However, under the Illegal Migrants
(Determination by Tribunal) (IMDT) Act, the burden of proving the citizenship
or otherwise rested on the accuser and the police, not the accused. This was a
major departure from the provisions of the Foreigners Act, 1946.

In 2005, the Act was challenged by Sarbananda Sonowal, a former

President of the All Assam Students Union (AASU) which was a party to the
Assam Accord 1985. He argued that “IMDT Act is wholly arbitrary, unreasonable
and discriminates against a class of citizens of India, making it impossible for
citizens who are residents in Assam to secure the detection and deportation of
foreigners from Indian soil” (Nayyar 2005). A three-judge Bench of the Supreme
Court of India struck down the Act in a judgment in the Writ Petition (civil) 131
 61

of 2000 (Sarbananda Sonowal vs Union of India and Another 2005). The fallout
of this judgment was later linked to the fate of Assam Accord when senior
Congress legislator and architect of the IMDT Act Abdul Muhib Mazumdar sated
in the Assam Assembly on 8 June 2011 that as the IMDT act was part of the
Assam accord and after its repeal the Assam Accord has lost out on its
significance (“Assam Accord: how much relevant?”, 2011). In the present study
we found that the Supreme Court Judgment repealing IMDT Act was seen by
many respondents as a boost to the implementation of the Accord while others
observed that it has a very limited effect on the Assam Accord which was seen to
be only half-heartedly implemented in three decades since its signing (Nath
2003).

Coming back to the Philippines situation, the scrapping of the MOA-AD

marked another setback for the peace process, with the armed conflicts for the
year 2008 reaching a record-high of 30 incidents in Mindanao. In an effort to
salvage the negotiations, Arroyo declared the suspension of military operations
against the MILF on July 2009 (“Arroyo's peacemaking legacy”, 2009). The
administration of Benigno Aquino III resumed peace negotiations in February
2011 after the rebel group announced that they were no longer seeking secession
from the Philippines (McGeown 2011). But the prospects for peace remained
elusive as disgruntled MILF rebels continued guerrilla attacks against
government forces in several areas in Mindanao ignoring the existing ceasefire
agreement. However, the President and the military did not go for retaliation and
continued discussions with MILF (William 2010). On October 15, 2012, the
Philippine government signed a much-hyped document touted as the Framework
Agreement on the Bangsamoro (FAB), which culminates the Aquino
Administration's effort to end the deadlock in the peace process. FAB was an
agreement between the Government of the Philippines and the MILF that aimed
to end the armed conflict between government forces and the MILF. The FAB
lays down the principles for the establishment of an autonomous political entity
 62

for the Bangsamoro, as a way of recognizing their distinct history and their
aspirations as a distinct people (Framework Agreement 2012). President Aquino
enthusiastically declared that the agreement could “…finally seal genuine, lasting
peace in Mindanao" (Speech of President Aquino, October 15, 2012).

On January 24, 2014, Philippine government chief negotiator Miriam

Coronel Ferer and MILF chief negotiator Mohagher Iqbal signed a final annex of
the peace agreement in Kuala Lumpur. Two months later, on March 27, 2014, the
Comprehensive Agreement on the Bangsamoro (CAB) was signed in Manila and
witnessed by Philippine President Benigno Aquino III, MILF Chairman Al Haj
Murad Ibrahim, and Malaysian Prime Minister Najib Razak. The agreement
would pave the way for the creation of the new Muslim autonomous entity called
"Bangsamoro" under a law to be approved by the Philippine Congress. The
government aims to set up the region by 2016 (“Comprehensive Agreement on
the Bangsamoro”, 2014). The Comprehensive Agreement on the Bangsamoro
concluded 17 years of negotiations between the Government of the Philippines
and the MILF. The agreement calls for Muslim self-rule in parts of the southern
Philippines in exchange for a deactivation of rebel forces by the MILF. MILF
forces would turn over their firearms to a third party to be selected by the MILF
and the Philippine government. A regional police force would be established and
the Philippine military would reduce the presence of troops and help disband
private armies in the area (“Philippine peace breakthrough", 2014).

The World Bank Group joined the global community in congratulating the
Government of the Republic of the Philippines and the MILF for their momentous
signing of the CAB and stated that the World Bank Group, along with
development partners and other stakeholders, had been supporting peace and
inclusive growth in Mindanao through various programmes and projects
including social protection, community-driven development, upgrading of
community infrastructure, and lately the formulation of the Bangsamoro
Development Plan. The bank announced that it would continue to scale up efforts
 63

to support programmes that will broker sustainable peace and development in the
Bangsamoro and Mindanao as a whole (“World Bank Statement”, 2014). Jules
Maaten, in an interview, underlined the potential success factors in the agreement
as ‘wealth sharing’, whereby the Bangsamoro government will get direct income
from taxes as well as ‘power sharing’ as well as deactivation of 11,000 MILF
militants. However, he also pointed out that there will be challenges ahead as
there will be substantial minority population in the new autonomous region and
not all the smaller Muslim groups are on board yet (Maaten 2014).

In another analysis Viña and Pauleen Gorospe (2014) said that the signing
of the CAB is only an initial step in the process of peacemaking and peace
building and the transition must consider the issues of ‘welfare and rights’ of the
indigenous peoples and non-Muslim inhabitants of the new autonomous region.
They altered that there might be fears of “reverse oppression” and hence,
provisions on the sharing of power, the deployment of the local police force and
revenue generation and wealth-sharing were crucial factors for success of the
agreement. More interestingly they said that:

“…It is important to involve local officials and religious and community

leaders on the ground to facilitate any form of transition of management
and form of government and avoid any misunderstandings about the
establishment of the Bangsamoro. The government, the MILF, lawmakers
and stakeholders alike must ensure that it is not derailed and that it
specifically addresses and fulfills the aspirations of the Bangsamoro
people” (Viña and Pauleen Gorospe (2014).

2.10.5. Colombia Peace Process

Four decades of violence and armed conflict have torn the recent history
of Colombia. In these years innumerable population suffered and lived in constant
fear. It created a legacy of horror for the people living in the country. At the same
 64

time, perhaps ironically, Colombia has also seen the years of continuing negations
between governments and armed groups (Leech 1999). The continuing peace-
building efforts in the country is a sustained and sometime perilous journey both
through informal route at grassroots, regional and national levels and through
formal peace processes (Juan 2005). Started around early 1960s, the Colombian
conflict, is an ‘ongoing low-intensity asymmetric war’ between the Colombian
government and non-state armed groups and it is one of the longest conflicts in
modern history (Alston 2010). The parties to the conflict are fighting each other
to increase their influence in Colombian territory (Von der Groeben 2011).
The conflict can be traced back to the historical conflict known as La
Violencia triggered by the 1948 assassination of Jorge Eliécer Gaitán and the
ensuing fight between Liberal and Conservatives that lasted for five years ending
in 1953. The end of La Violencia followed by a military rule of General Gustavo
Rojas Pinilla till 1957 that ended in a reconciliation between Liberal and
Conservatives who formed The National Front in an agreement dividing the
power among the two parties. It is criticized by many that The National Front
excluded other sections from political participation leading to an emergence of
guerilla fighting groups craving for a left leaning governance (Diaz 2009). Since
1980s, another party, the paramilitary forces, joined the conflict as private
contractors, fighting against guerillas and further complicated the situation
(Bushnell 1993). The Colombia conflict has four ‘parties’ fighting against each
other: (1) the Colombian Government, (2) guerilla groups such as the National
Liberation Army (ELN), Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC),
Popular Liberation Army (EPL) or the April 19 Movement (M-19), (3)
paramilitary groups that evolved from civilian militias in the late 1960s
legitimized by State decrees but now fighting under an umbrella organization
called the United Self-Defense Units of Colombia (AUC), (4) the BACRIM
(Bandas Criminales) that is various criminal bands, drug cartels and other illegal
armed groups (Von der Groeben 2011).
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The latest Colombian peace process was launched in Norway and peace
talks between the Colombian government and the FARC began in Cuba in late
2012. Without any major setbacks, the Colombian process has evolved over time
and in stages, with adjustments to the methodologies, focus, and engagement of
the stakeholders. A number of these modifications are breaking new ground,
particularly with regard to the roles of civil society and the design of strategies
for dealing with the past (Bouvier 2014a). In the context of the present study, a
major reference point is The Justice and Peace Law of Colombia (Law 975 of
2005) which is a legal framework promoted by the government of Alvaro Uribe
Velez and approved by Congress to facilitate the demobilization of paramilitaries
in Colombia and eventually could be used in the demobilization of guerrilla
groups (Forero 2005). In 2003 AUC signed an agreement with the government
for the demobilization of its armed members to cease operations. The
government, on its part, introduced a bill known as alternative punishment that
benefitted the members of illegal armed groups who confessed their crimes. The
law, however, was withdrawn later. As the next step in transitional justice process
in Columbia, this new Justice and Peace Law was adopted to provide for
prosecution of illegal armed groups which had benefited from the earlier
demobilization processes.

The Justice and Peace Law was also criticized by human rights groups and
the United Nations, among others (“Inter-American Digest”; Laplant, L. and
Theidon 2006). The Law is seen as too lenient against serious crimes and too little
on time for proper investigation and collection of evidence against the
perpetrators of violence. Implementation of the Justice and Peace Law has fallen
far short of its formal aspirations. The Inter-American Commission on Human
Rights has noted that early in the process, those prosecutors assigned to
participate in the versions libres “were frequently commissioned only hours
before they were dispatched to the concentration zone from various parts of the
country.” With untrained prosecutors and their lack of skill in collecting
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supporting evidences left the whole process at the mercy of ‘voluntary

depositions’ that provided very little information. “Of those demobilized who
passed through the demobilization circuit (totaling approximately 28,000) 90 per
cent offered no significant information on illegal acts or crimes committed by the
paramilitary units to which they belonged (“Inter-American Digest”, pp. 34). It
offered amnesty to the majority of demobilized fighters as out of more than
30,000 fighters who demobilized between November 2003 and mid-2006, only
2695 showed interest in legal benefits, and a much lesser portion of them
provided proper information in order to participate in the voluntary deposition
process (Ibid, pp. 44-47).

The Justice and Peace Law was found to be wanting as a tool for
Transitional Justice since it did not provide the victims of violence any rights to
truth, justice, and redress. Lack of information about the process, high costs of
participation in the sessions, limited scope of participation through indirect mode
of questioning the applicant, lack of opportunity to cross examine – all indicated
an inherent weakness in the process of ‘law’ (Ibid, pp. 81-82). In the present study
this aspect of post-agreement processes and provisions was a reference point in
examining the issue of mass-withdrawal of criminal cases against the agitators
after the signing of Assam Accord.

The Colombian government, however, defended the Justice and Peace

Law on the ground that any peace negotiation required some leniency and balance
between justice and peace that entailed some impunity to the fighters. The
Constitutional Court which reviewed the constitutionality of the Law of Justice
and Peace also favoured it in its decision of April 2006 and found no procedural
irregularities (Constitutional Court 2006). However, the Constitutional Court on
18 May 2006 ruled on the unconstitutionality of certain parts of the Justice and
Peace Law and decreed that, as a prerequisite for judicial benefits, confessions
must be complete and truthful; the accused must declare, jointly or severally, all
their legally or illegally acquired assets; and classification as a victim must be
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broader than that originally established in the law. In other words, the
Constitutional Court approved the legislation broadly as constitutional but found
that several of its provisions were unconstitutional. At the same time, the Court
intended to protect the participation of victims in the process and their access to
full redress. The judgment also clarified the definition of paramilitary activity as
a common crime and ruled that the provision that allowed the time spent by
demobilized fighters in the concentration zones to be offset against the duration
of their non-custodial sentences was unconstitutional. The Court categorically
pronounced that "…those applying the law must meet to fully the resolutions of
the law, as the total crimes confession, reparation and truth, and not re-offend”
(Constitutional Court, Sentence C-370/06).

Currently, as late as on 30 October, 2014, during the 30th round of peace

talks between the FARC and Colombia’s government in Havana, Colombia’s
FARC guerrilla group accepted that that it owes something to its victims an issued
a statement saying “It is evident that we have intervened actively and we have
impacted our adversary, and in some way affected the population that has lived
immersed in the war (FARC Statement 2014). The statement read by the guerrilla
negotiator Pablo Atrato said:

We make ourselves expressly responsible for each and every one of the
acts of war executed by our units in conformance with the orders and
instructions imparted by our command, and we assume its derivations. We
are conscious that the results of our actions have not always been foreseen
or expected by the FARC-EP, and we assume the consequences, as could
not be otherwise. The FARC-EP will assume responsibility for what
concerns us. (Ataroto 2014)

As we have seen, the Colombian peace process introduced new

benchmarks in transitional justice especially with respect to dealing with past
cases of violence, their perpetrators and above all the victims. For more than fifty
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years, armed violence is taking place in Colombia between guerrilla fighters and
the government, as well as paramilitary groups, which have been linked to the
authorities. While the peace process still continues, a number of milestones have
already been reached towards peace in that country. It has been breaking new
ground in relation to how to deal with the past. While the process is still
unfolding, a number of innovations are worth examining. The Declaration of
Principles agreed by the parties on June 7, 201478 addressed a very crucial issue
that entails any post-conflict society – the fate of the victims and of those
responsible for the violence. The declaration underscored the victims’ ‘rights to
truth, justice, reparations, and guarantees of non-repetition’. Among other things,
the Declaration of Principles also agrees that there will be no “exchange of
impunities”, underscoring the importance of victims as citizens with rights, and
establishing victims’ participation as a crucial part of the peace process.
Moreover, the parties recognized the importance of involving the victims in the
post-conflict justice process in order to redress their pains from the past.
However, Virginia Bouvier, the Head of the Colombia programme at the US
Institute of Peace, observed that this “new approach, [was] fraught with
possibilities and challenges” (Bouvier 2014b).

2.10.6. The South African Record of Understanding

The apartheid in South Africa was ultimately finished through long

periods of negotiations that took place from 1990 to 1993 among the major
stakeholders involved: the governing National Party, the African National
Congress, and a wide variety of other political organizations (Saul 2004). These

7
Colombia: Current conflicts. Geneva Academy of International Humanitarian Law and Human
Rights, Switzerland. Available at http://www.geneva-academy.ch
8
In a press conference on June 7, 2014 in Havana, where Colombian government and FARC
negotiators have been meeting to discuss the theme of victims, the parties presented a joint
“Declaration of Principles for the Discussion of Point 5 on the Agenda: Victims”. See the
declaration at http://wsp.presidencia.gov.co/Prensa/2014/Junio/Paginas/20140607_01-propaz-
Declaracion-del-jefe-del-Equipo-Negociador-Gobierno-Nacional-Humberto-de-la-Calle.aspx
 69

negotiations were overshadowed by a history of violence and oppressions, mainly

directed against the country’s black population by the white rulers and sometime
by their sponsored agents (Dowden 2008). The negotiations resulted in the peace
accord known as ‘Record of Understanding’ signed on 26 September 1992
between the South African government and the African National Congress
(ANC) that laid down a road map for the future that addressed, among other
things, issues like proposed constitutional assembly, an interim government,
political prisoners and weapon. This was followed by South Africa's first multi-
racial election, which was won by the African National Congress (“Record of
Understanding”, 1992).

Apartheid system of racial discrimination and segregation in South Africa

goes back to 1948. It was atool for political and economic oppression by the
white population and curtailment of the rights of the black majority (Saul 2004).
The ANC leaders and other black political organizations were banned by the
government between 1960 and 1990, the African National Congress and other
mainly black opposition political organizations were banned and their leaders
were imprisoned for long periods, the most famous being Nelson Mandela of
ANC (Harvey 2001). As the National Party cracked down on black opposition to
apartheid, most leaders of ANC and other opposition organizations were either
imprisoned or went into exile. However, with increasing domestic agitations and
international pressure against apartheid led to negotiations that concluded with
the Record of Understanding. The history of negotiations goes back to 1974 when
Harry Schwarz, leader of the liberal-reformist wing of the United Party, met with
Gatsha (later Mangosuthu) Buthelezi, Chief Executive Councilor of the black
homeland of KwaZulu, and signed a five-point plan for racial peace in South
Africa known as the Mahlabatini Declaration of Faith (4 Jan 1974). The
Mahlabatini Declaration was an affirmation of non-violent route to achieve racial
peace in a multi-racial society and was based on the principles of equal
 70

opportunity, consultative processes, federalism and above all a Bill of Rights

(Comey 2010). The declaration stated that:

"…The situation of South Africa in the world scene as well as internal

community relations requires, in our view, an acceptance of certain fundamental
concepts for the economic, social and constitutional development of our country."
(Mahlabatini Declaration of Faith 1974)

The declaration was the first of peace agreements in the South African
apartheid conflicts, but, though it was supported by a number of black and white
political leaders the declaration saw staunch opposition from the National Party,
the Afrikaans press and the conservative wing of Harry Schwarz's United Party
(Horrell 1975).

The serious efforts towards lasting peace in South Africa started when
President F W de Klerk lifted the ban on ANC in February 1990 and its leader
Nelson Mandela was released after 27 years of imprisonment (Commey 2010).
The next milestone was the Pretoria Minute that saw suspension of the armed
struggle by the ANC and its military wing Umkhonto we Sizwe (“Pretoria
Minutes”, 1991). Next was the National Peace Accord of 14 September 1991,
signed by representatives of twenty-seven political organizations and national
and homeland governments (“National Peace Accord”, 1991) which prepared the
way for the Convention for a Democratic South Africa (CODESA). Nineteen
groups were represented at CODESA, including the South African government,
the National Party, the African National Congress, the Inkatha Freedom Party,
the Democratic Party, the South African Communist Party, the South African
Indian Congress, the Coloured Labour Party, the Indian National People's Party
and Solidarity Party, and the leaders of the nominally independent Bantustans of
Transkei, Ciskei, Bophuthatswana and Venda ("The CODESA Negotiations",
n.d.). However, the right-wing white Conservative Party and the left-wing Pan
Africanist Congress boycotted CODESA while Inkatha Freedom Party leader
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Mangosuthu Buthelezi personally didn't participate (Ibid). CODESA II (the

second plenary session) collapsed with Boipatong killing that took place in May
1992 and Mandela withdrawing from the negotiations. ANC took to the streets
with “rolling mass action" programme that saw another tragic Bisho massacre in
September but it also brought in a renewed effort towards reaching political
settlement. More negotiations over a number of contentious issues like
transitional government structure, federal character and majority rule ultimately
led to the government and the ANC agreeing on a Record of Understanding and
restarted the negotiation process after the failure of CODESA (Harvey 2001).

After the Record of Understanding, negotiations continued farther under

Multiparty Negotiating Forum (MPNF) which this time saw participation from
the white right (the Conservative Party and the Afrikaner Volksunie), the Pan
Africanist Congress, the KwaZulu homeland government and delegations of
"traditional leaders" (Barnes and Klerk 2002). Transitional politics continued
after the election, with a new constitution finally agreed in 1995, and the Truth
and Reconciliation Commission dealing with politically motivated crimes
committed during the apartheid era (Ebrahim 1998, Gloppen 1997).

If we take the Record of Understanding as a peace accord for the context

of the present study, we can see that the greatest take away from the agreement
was a multi-party negotiation strategy that worked well for South Africa. Though
interrupted by incidents of violence and massacres, both CODESA and the MPNP
were illustrative cases of peace negotiations that were based on the equality
principle to provide ‘political access and power’ to all South Africans backed by
a political ‘structure’ to achieve it. Through the involvement of diverse set of
political parties (stakeholders in the peace process), the negotiations reached out
to the grassroots communities and members associated with those parties laid the
foundation of a broad-based ownership of the peace process. In our study of
Assam Accord later, we will see how respondents from minority communities in
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Assam were not a party to the agreement and how, in the long run, that affected
the successful implementation of the Accord.

However, the South African process also identified as a challenge not to

allow a party-members driven peace process because it was also criticized by
some that ANC was using the process to bolster its own position in the emerging
state government and even detesting the civil society as 'watchdog' (Barnes and
Klerk 2002). But the overwhelming lesson learnt was that the post-agreement
South African society saw a synthesized government and civil society action to
build a ‘productive and cooperative relationship’ to foster cooperation in service
delivery and participatory policy-making (Ebrahim 1998). Today, the new
challenge for the country is to retain the spirit of the peace accords that helped it
to build a system of government that only gives access to political power and to
maintain the principles of equality once that participatory political structure is
established (Gloppen 1997). As Barnes and Klerk (2002) says:

Nonetheless, South Africa is among the few countries in the world where
the ruling party openly expresses a commitment to civil society
participation – a factor that can be used by civil society to strengthen its
role. As in the turbulent times of apartheid, civil society in post-1994 can
continue to be a force for making the government of the day accountable
to its constituencies. (Ibid, pp. 6)