Liberal Peace and Post-Conflict

Rethinking Peace and Conflict
Studies
Series Editor
Oliver P. Richmond
University of Manchester
Manchester
United Kingdom
This agenda-setting series of research monographs, now more than a
decade old, provides an interdisciplinary forum aimed at advancing inno-
vative new agendas for approaches to, and understandings of, peace and
conflict studies and International Relations. Many of the critical volumes
the series has so far hosted have contributed to new avenues of analysis
directly or indirectly related to the search for positive, emancipatory, and
hybrid forms of peace. New perspectives on peacemaking in practice and
in theory, their implications for the international peace architecture, and
different conflict-affected regions around the world, remain crucial. This
series’ contributions offers both theoretical and empirical insights into
many of the world’s most intractable conflicts and any subsequent
attempts to build a new and more sustainable peace, responsive to the
needs and norms of those who are its subjects.
More information about this series at

http://www.springer.com/series/14500
Patrick Tom
Liberal Peace
and Post-Conflict
Peacebuilding
in Africa
Patrick Tom
Mindleag Limited
St Andrews, Fife, United Kingdom
Rethinking Peace and Conflict Studies

ISBN 978-1-137-57290-5 ISBN 978-1-137-57291-2 (eBook)
DOI 10.1057/978-1-137-57291-2
Library of Congress Control Number: 2016963104
© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s) 2017

The author(s) has/have asserted their right(s) to be identified as the author(s) of this work in
accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
This work is subject to copyright. All rights are solely and exclusively licensed by the
Publisher, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of
translation, reprinting, reuse of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on
microfilms or in any other physical way, and transmission or information storage and
retrieval, electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar methodology
now known or hereafter developed.
The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this
publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are
exempt from the relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use.
The publisher, the authors and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and information
in this book are believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication. Neither the
publisher nor the authors or the editors give a warranty, express or implied, with respect to
the material contained herein or for any errors or omissions that may have been made. The
publisher remains neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and institu-
tional affiliations.
Cover illustration: © Cultura Creative (RF) / Alamy Stock Photo
Printed on acid-free paper
This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by Springer Nature

The registered company is Macmillan Publishers Ltd.
The registered company address is: The Campus, 4 Crinan Street, London, N1 9XW, United
Kingdom
To my parents, Martin Tom and Febby Chiringakudenga
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The study could not have been completed without the help of a number of
people and organizations in various locations. To begin with, I express my
sincere gratitude to the Allan and Nesta Ferguson Charitable Trust
(through the University of St. Andrews) for funding, the Gilchrist
Educational Trust and University of St. Andrews’ School of
International Relations for providing me with research grants that allowed
me to undertake fieldwork in Sierra Leone.
I would like to thank Oliver P. Richmond for the useful suggestions and
encouragement. Thanks are due to Ian Taylor, Faye Donnelly, Ali Watson
and Ezekiel Conteh. I would also like to thank all the people who parti-
cipated in the research in Sierra Leone, without them this book would not
have been realized. I also express my sincere gratitude to Dennis Gbambor
James, a friend and former classmate at the University of Leeds for putting
me in contact with his friends in Sierra Leone, who then introduced me to
other prospective participants, his wife Jenneh Ann-Marie James, Farai
Muronzi, Nassal Millicent Kamara, Reverends Peter Kainwo and Joseph
Victor Gbango and their families, Kormahun Moriba Vonjoe, Moses
Coomber, Michael Charles and Peter Amara for hosting me during my
fieldwork in various sites in Sierra Leone, I owe this to you.
My special thanks to my sister-in-law, Ellen Chirindo, for proofreading
parts of this book. I must express my gratitude to my wife Loice and family
for their strong support, my sons Rangariraishe and Tawananyasha for
their patience and resilience during the course of researching and writing
of this book.
vii
viii ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Some of the material in this book was published in ‘A “Post-liberal

Peace” via Ubuntu?’, 2015, Peacebuilding, http://www.tandfonline.
com/doi/full/10.1080/21647259.2015.1040605; ‘Youth-Traditional
Authorities’ Relations in Post-War Sierra Leone’, 2014, Children’s
Geographies, 12 (3), 327–338; ‘In Search for Emancipatory Hybridity:
The Case of Sierra Leone’, 2013, Peacebuilding, 1 (2), 239–255;
‘International Interventions and Local Agency in Peacebuilding in Sierra
Leone’ (co-authored with Morten Bøås), in Oliver P. Richmond and
Sandra Pogodda, Post-liberal Peace Transitions: Between Peace Formation
and State Formation (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2016); and
‘Peace in West Africa’ in Oliver P. Richmond, Sandra Pogodda and Jasmin
Ramovic (eds.), Dimensions of Peace: Disciplinary and Regional
Approaches (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2016). I am grateful to
Morten Bøås, and the publishers, Taylor and Francis, Palgrave
Macmillan and the Edinburgh University Press for allowing me to repro-
duce some of the material in this book.
CONTENTS
1 Introduction 1
2 Africa Before, During and After Colonial Rule 9
3 Peacebuilding, Statebuilding and Liberal Peace 39
4 The Liberal Peace in Question 71
5 Power, Resistance and Hybridity in International

Peacebuilding 105
6 The Struggle for Sierra Leone 119
7 Building a liberal Peace in Post-Conflict Sierra Leone 143
8 Local NGOs and Autonomous Maneuvering 165
9 Youth-Traditional Authorities’ Relations in Post-War

Sierra Leone 179
10 In Search for Emancipatory Hybridity in Sierra Leone 191
ix
x CONTENTS
11 Conclusion 203
Bibliography 209
Index 235
LIST OF ABBREVIATIONS
ACPACS The Australian Centre for Peace and Conflict Studies

AFRC Armed Forces Revolutionary Council
AMNet Advocacy Movement Network
BBC British Broadcasting Corporation
CAPS Community Association for Psychosocial Services
CDF Civil Defense Forces
CGG Campaign for Good Governance
CPA Comprehensive Peace Agreement
CVT Centre for Victims of Torture
DC District Commissioner
DFID The UK Department for International Development
DRC Democratic Republic of Congo
ECOMOG Economic Community of West African States Military Observer
Group
ECOWAS Economic Community of West African States
EU European Union
Flec Front for the Liberation of the State of Cabinda
FNLA National Liberation Front of Angola
GIZ Deutsche Gesellschaft für Internationale Zusammenarbeit
GTZ The Deutsche Gessellschaft für Technische Zusammenarbeit
HDI Human Development Index
HRCSL Human Rights Commission of Sierra Leone
IBL Institutionalization Before Liberalization
ICG International Crisis Group
IDPs Internally Displaced Persons
IFIs International Financial Institutions
IMF International Monetary Fund
INGOs International Nongovernment Organizations
xi
xii LIST OF ABBREVIATIONS
Le Leones (Currency of Sierra Leone)

LRA Lord’s Resistance Army
MPLA Popular Movement for the Total Liberation of Angola
NGOs Non-governmental Organizations
NPFL National Patriotic Front of Liberia
NPRC National Provisional Ruling Council
NRC National Reformation Council
OAU Organization of African Unity
OCHA United Nations Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian
Affairs
OECD Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development
PAFMECA Pan-African Freedom Movement of East and Central Africa
PAFMECSA Pan-African Freedom Movement of East, Central and Southern
Africa
RUF Revolutionary United Front
SAPs Structural Adjustment Programs
SBCs State Building Contracts
SLPP Sierra Leone People’s Party
SSD State Security Defense
TAs Tribal Authorities
TRC Truth and Reconciliation Commission
UK United Kingdom
UN United Nations
UNAMSIL United Nations Mission in Sierra Leone
UNMEER United Nations Mission for Ebola Emergency Response
UNDP United Nations Development Program
UNICEF United Nations Children’s Fund
UNIPSIL United Nations Integrated Peacebuilding Office in Sierra Leone
UNITA Union for the Total Independence of Angola
UNPBC United Nations Peacebuilding Commission
US United States
USAID United States Agency for International Development
USSR Union of Soviet Socialist Republics
WHO World Health Organization
CHAPTER 1
Introduction
Since the end of the Cold War intrastate conflicts have threatened developing
states more than interstate ones. These conflicts have resulted in the death
of millions of civilians. Africa has had the largest number of such conflicts and
displaced people in the world. Despite increased international attention on the
conflicts in the past two decades, civil wars are not a new phenomenon in
Africa, for example Congo (1960–1964), Nigeria (Biafra) (1967–1970),
Chad (1965–1979), Angola (1975–2002), Mozambique (1975–1994) and
Sudan (Southern Sudan) (1955–1972).
However, the 1990s witnessed an increase in violent intrastate conflicts
in sub-Saharan Africa, which became increasingly viewed as a serious
threat to international peace and security. This was generally attributed
to a number of factors including the end of the Cold War that left many
African states in a weaker position because superpowers withdrew their
support, which had enabled African leaders to control internal threats; the
collapse of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics (USSR), which resulted
in the international system’s realignment; the failure of the state and its
institutions and the inappropriateness of the Westphalian system as an
international order. In Africa, civil wars were further attributed to a
number of causes that are linked to the nature of the African state.
During the 1990s, the issue of ‘state collapse’ and ‘state failure’ became
an issue of international concern. This period witnessed the emergence of
an international consensus that failed or collapsed states, and non-state
actors posed a serious threat to international peace and security more than
© The Author(s) 2017 1

P. Tom, Liberal Peace and Post-Conflict Peacebuilding in Africa,
Rethinking Peace and Conflict Studies,
DOI 10.1057/978-1-137-57291-2_1
2 LIBERAL PEACE AND POST-CONFLICT PEACEBUILDING IN AFRICA
aggressive powerful states. This also saw an ideological turn in relation to

the United Nations (UN) peace operations. For the past two decades, the
UN has played a leading role in international post-conflict peacebuilding
efforts aimed at bringing to an end violent intrastate conflict and the
establishment of lasting peace, which emphasized the building of legit-
imate and effective state institutions and ensuring state stability and the
promotion of democratization and economic liberalization. Such opera-
tions involved a wide range of actors – international and local – with
international actors having a lot of influence over the local. Furthermore,
such international peace support operations were aimed at transforming
‘the dysfunctional and war-affected societies [ . . . ] into cooperative, repre-
sentative and, especially, stable entities’ (Duffield 2001: 11). Despite
international efforts to build durable and sustainable peace in post-conflict
situations, evidence show that peace remains fragile in most post-conflict
situations, and local agency has resulted in the creation of hybrid forms of
peace. Post-conflict peacebuilding interventions have tended to result in
‘no war, no peace’ (Mac Ginty 2006) or ‘no peace, no war’ (Richards
2005a) situations in most post-conflict situations.
Over the past two decades liberal peacebuilding has resulted in mixed
outcomes. While Western-oriented peacebuilding projects tend to follow
a standardized blue print, the ‘local’ is not homogeneous, but heteroge-
neous consisting of a wide range of actors and institutions, including
customary authorities and institutions, community organizations, various
ethnic groups, kinship networks and non-governmental organizations as
well as liberal and illiberal actors. As such, international peacebuilding and
conflict transformation interventions have been heavily criticized for fail-
ing to put peacebuilding and conflict transformation into the specific
cultural, religious, political and historical context of the hosting commu-
nities and, as a result, international actors have not been able to create
a concrete peace dividend at the level of civilian population’s everyday life
– the very people they claim to serve. While to a certain extent some of
these limitations are in the process of being recognized as witnessed in
recent international policy documents that attempt to look at how inter-
national donors need to modify their approaches in fragile and conflict-
affected states, it would be incorrect to assume that we are about to face a
shift of paradigmatic proportions. Rather, what we are much more likely
to see is an attempt to adjust the current liberal framework to different
local contexts. Indeed, international peacebuilding approaches informed
by the new policy documents have remained top-down.
1 INTRODUCTION 3
The emergence of scholarship focusing on the ‘local’, in recent years,

suggests that it is not possible to achieve local legitimacy and also that it is
difficult to build sustainable peace in states emerging from violent conflict
in the absence of ownership on the part of the grassroots domestic actors.
This work on liberal peacebuilding and the ‘local’ has been essential in
showing the important role grassroots actors can play in ensuring sustain-
able post-conflict peacebuilding, though such actors are often left out
from the realms of economic, social and political power, and are also
often marginalized in the discussions of peacebuilding. This book builds
on this work.
THE AIMS OF THE BOOK

The book aims to contribute to critical peace research, particularly, the
debate on post-liberal peace/hybridity in peacebuilding using Sierra
Leone as a reference case study. Sierra Leone’s experience as a ‘collapsed
state’ that ‘came back from the dead’ (Chege 2002: 148), and today
considered a ‘success story’ of international peacebuilding, makes it an
interesting case study. The book draws on fieldwork in Sierra Leone,
critical literature on statebuilding and peacebuilding, policy documents,
African and post-colonial studies literature as well as literature on Sierra
Leone to examine the nature of post-conflict peacebuilding in Sierra
Leone. In particular, it draws on relatively recent concepts in the debate
on international peacebuilding including hybridity, hybrid political
orders, resistance and ‘post-liberal’ peace to analyze the ‘everyday’
experience of peacebuilding in Sierra Leone. This departure from the
liberal peace to ‘post-liberal’ peace/hybrid forms of peace emerging in
post-conflict societies has not only allowed for a locally grounded analy-
sis that enables us to bring out other forms of peace that might be crucial
in contributing to the establishment of self-sustaining peace in post-
conflict societies but also an understanding of how local social forces
are shaping international peace interventions. This is crucial in helping us
have a better understanding of the complex dynamics on the ground.
While critical literature on the liberal peace has provided us with insights
into the existence of ‘local’ agency in peacebuilding and also the limits of
the liberal peace, much of the literature fails to examine power relations
between local actors and international actors as local agency is examined
in the context of the locals’ interaction with international actors, and as
such, it fails to engage with power relations between local actors, and
how this impact on the nature of peace being built. Moreover, critical
literature fails to engage with the types of hybridity that are emerging in
these contexts and their implications for durable peace. This book aims
to engage with such issues and it will use the concept of hybridity as a
conceptual approach in understanding the dynamics in post-conflict
environments in the context of liberal peacebuilding.
In order to achieve this, the book, in addition to drawing on fieldwork in
Sierra Leone, expands on Robert Belloni’s (2012) typology of hybridity to
discuss the types of hybridity that are emerging in post-conflict Sierra
Leone including the possibilities of hybridity that can result in emancipa-
tion. Although a number of recent articles have addressed the interaction of
traditional or locally determined forms of governance and patrimonial
politics with the liberal peace in Sierra Leone (Fanthorpe 2005; Jackson
2005; Sawyer 2008; Richards 2005b; Albrecht 2010; Labonte 2011;
Acemoglu et al. 2013) as well as hybridity, politics, development, security
and law in relation to traditional forms of governance in Africa (Buur and
Kyed 2006; Kleist 2011; Lund 2006; Obarrio 2010; Renders and
Terlinden 2010), tackling this dynamic from the perspective of types of
hybridity – and in particular through Robert Belloni’s framework – pro-
vides a fresh perspective. International peacebuilding and statebuilding
(which is also linked to security sector reform) in Sierra Leone has been
presented as a ‘liberal peace project’, emphasizing the transformation of the
Sierra Leone society along liberal lines, economically and politically with
the aim of establishing a stable and peaceful Sierra Leonean society. The
book will attempt to define and discuss in depth what the ‘liberal peace
project’ in Sierra Leone consists of, and how it is different from local
forms/ideas of peace.
The book makes theoretical and empirical contributions to the emer-
ging debates on hybrid forms of peace/‘post-liberal’ peace. In applying
concepts of power, hybridity and resistance, and providing different
kinds of hybridity and resistance to explore post-conflict peacebuilding
in Sierra Leone, the book makes an original contribution to the literature
by providing various ways in which power can be exercised not just
between locals and internationals but also among locals themselves and
the nature of peace that is produced. Moreover, the book provides
various ways in which hybridity and resistance can be manifested.
A more rigorous development of these concepts offers a better under-
standing of the nature of these concepts, and also helps us to distinguish
forms of hybridity and resistance that are emancipatory/transformatory
1 INTRODUCTION 5
from those that result in people accommodating themselves to their

situation. This also provides a better understanding of the forms of
peace that are emerging in post-conflict environments.
THE STRUCTURE OF THE BOOK

The book is divided into eleven chapters. Chapter 1 introduces the scope
and nature of the study. The next four chapters of the book set the
foundation for the case study chapters. The case study chapters in this
book provide an in-depth discussion of the historical background to the
conflict in Sierra Leone, and drawing on fieldwork in Sierra Leone, it
applies the concepts of power, hybridity and resistance to explore peace-
building in the country.
Chapter 2 adopts a historical analytical approach. It discusses pre-
colonial political institutions in Africa and external involvement in state
construction on the continent through colonization, highlighting the
shortcomings of the colonizers’ attempts at engineering institutional
change in the colonized regions of Africa. It also discusses internal and
external challenges in the post-colonial period, and the increase in
violent intrastate conflict in the immediate aftermath of the Cold
War, which witnessed international peace support operations that pro-
moted the liberal peace in African states emerging from such conflict.
The chapter acknowledges the significance of history and set the con-
text for understanding local agency/African agency, hybrid political
orders and peace, multiple authorities in most African societies includ-
ing Sierra Leone and the role of customary governance and law in social
order, welfare and stability.
Chapter 3 provides an overview of some fundamental definitions and
debates in the literature on peacebuilding and statebuilding. This chapter
examines concepts of peacebuilding, statebuilding, post-conflict, liberal
peacebuilding and liberal peace with an in depth analysis of challenges
related to them. It also offers a distinction between peacebuilding and
statebuilding, peacebuilding and ‘liberal peacebuilding’ and points that
these concepts should not be conflated as they are distinct.
Chapter 4 offers an overview of the liberal peace debate. Liberal peace
debate relates to the discussion in the relevant literature on the theory and
practice of external intervention in post-war societies by international
actors. Liberal peacebuilding initiatives in post-war societies have gener-
ated debates and controversies within the academic and policy circles on
their nature, legitimacy and effectiveness, what causes peace, the nature of
peace to be built, the owner(s) of the peace and how the international
actors should relate with local actors. While it is widely acknowledged that
the dominant liberal peace model is in crisis and that on the whole,
international peacebuilding has not achieved the intended goal of helping
war-torn societies transform from states of violent conflict to self-sustain-
ing peace and economic development, the debate over the liberal peace
reflects a polarization between mainstream and critical scholars.
Concurring with critical scholars, in this chapter, I argue that it is vital
for the international actors to more seriously consider the local context
and needs, and the forms of peace that are being produced as ‘the local’
and the international interact, if lasting peace is going to be established in
post-conflict situations.
In Chapter 5, hybridity, power and resistance are regarded as essential
in understanding local agency and hybrid forms of peace. This chapter
conceptualizes hybridity, power and resistance as well as identify typolo-
gies of hybridity. It is crucial to distinguish forms of hybridity that are
useful in promoting emancipation from those that do not change people’s
circumstances, that is, those that are futile, regressive or an accommoda-
tion with power. This is also crucial in helping us understand the form and
quality of peace that is being produced in post-conflict environments that
are experiencing liberal peacebuilding. This chapter adopts concepts of
hybridity, power and resistance as a way of understanding hybrid forms of
peace that are emerging in post-war Sierra Leone and the agency of local
actors in peacebuilding.
Chapter 6 provides a comprehensive account of the causes and evolu-
tion of the civil war in Sierra Leone. It takes a long-term historical account
of the causes of the crisis. A comprehensive account of the background to
the civil war in Sierra Leone is useful in helping us gain a more intimate
understanding of the local context and its possible challenges to the liberal
peace and the building of durable peace as well as the quality of peace
being produced in Sierra Leone. This chapter first discusses historical
factors (Sierra Leone’s pre-colonial and colonial inheritance) that laid a
weak foundation for the modern state and its path to dictatorship, corrup-
tion, state failure, civil war and state collapse. It also offers a brief overview
of the nature of the civil war in Sierra Leone.
Chapter 7 provides a discussion of liberal peacebuilding in Sierra
Leone, and its positive and unintended consequences. It argues that
contemporary peacebuilding in Sierra Leone is a ‘liberal peacebuilding
1 INTRODUCTION 7
project’ of social transformation, thought to be essential for creating

conditions for durable and sustainable peace. It shows that despite
international efforts to build effective state institutions and durable
peace in the country, peace remains fragile, with both post-war govern-
ments failing to deal with neo-patrimonial politics, which political elites
use to entrench their political power.
Chapter 8 examines the interactions between local NGOs and rural
communities in the context of liberal peacebuilding. Emerging critics
of the liberal peace have paid much attention on the interactions
between international peacebuilders and the ‘local’, and the hybrid
forms of peace that are being produced. This chapter argues that in
rural communities of Sierra Leone where people continue to follow
their socio-cultural practices, the liberal peace has not been fully rea-
lized, as resistance by locals to international peacebuilding agendas and
the fortified nature of international peacebuilding that tend to isolate
external peacebuilders from extensive engagement with the local has
witnessed NGOs such as Advocacy Movement Network (AMNet),
Community Action for Psychosocial Services (CAPS), Fambul Tok
and Hope Sierra Leone coming up with peacebuilding strategies that
incorporate both international and local peacebuilding approaches.
This has witnessed hybrid approaches to peacebuilding that are more
acceptable to the locals being implemented.
Chapter 9, which complements literature on generational conflicts in
Sierra Leone (Manning 2009; Boersch-Supan 2012; Peters 2011a, b;
Richards 1996), focuses on youth-traditional authority relations in post-
war Sierra Leone, emphasizing different kinds of power that these actors
might have in the context of an international peace initiative that places
emphasis on the ‘liberal peace’. It argues that while recent critics of the
liberal peace have criticized it for failing to empower the grassroots, in
the case of rural youths in Sierra Leone, the liberal peace has contributed
to the creation of spaces for resisting and negotiating with chiefdom
authorities. This, however, is not resulting in the production of positive
hybrid peace, as chiefs have employed counter strategies aimed at con-
trolling youths.
Chapter 10 discusses the various ways in which hybridity is being
manifested in Sierra Leone, and identifies the winners and losers.
Chapter 10 argues that the different types of hybridity that are emerging
in Sierra Leone do not necessarily lead to emancipation as some fail to
promote an inclusive political system crucial for the state to provide
public goods or introduce policies aimed at improving the quality of life

of its citizens. However, there is a possibility that emancipatory hybridity
may emerge from below involving interactions between liberal peace-
oriented local NGOs and the grassroots. Finally, chapter 11 provides
concluding thoughts.
CHAPTER 2
Africa Before, During and After Colonial Rule
INTRODUCTION
This chapter provides a broad historical overview of political organization in
the pre-colonial, colonial and post-colonial periods and the challenges that a
number of post-colonial African states are facing, including that of building
viable states and sustainable peace. Colonial rule saw Africans not being
given an opportunity to define the world from their own position and
existential realities. This was done for them and continues in modern
Africa. It is also important to understand how externally imposed policies
including liberalization policies have contributed to the restructuring of
African societies and how this has contributed to instability in these societies.
The chapter first attempts to justify why Africa’s past matters in discussions
of international peacebuilding, then discusses European representations of
Africa, the nature of the pre-colonial political institutions, and colonial and
post-colonial states in Africa. It offers generalizations about the nature of the
African pre-colonial political institutions and the colonial state.1 It will then
look at the general characteristics of Africa’s post-colonial states, challenges
from the period of their inception and external intervention in their affairs.
By so doing, this chapter aims at providing a background on the un-
derstanding of why attempts at Western-style liberal democracies in post-
conflict environments are shallow, and as such, supporting the idea
that peacebuilding should emphasize agency and activities of people in
the host-societies. It is hard to talk about the present situation in Africa

DOI 10.1057/978-1-137-57291-2_2
without referring to pre-colonial forms of political and social organiza-

tion, the colonial legacies and the post-colonial states’ inheritance, espe-
cially its colonial inheritance.
AFRICA’S PAST MATTERS

Although we now live in the twenty-first century, Africa still feels the
consequences of nineteenth-century Western imperialism. A number of
scholars on the crisis of post-colonial states in Africa have partly attrib-
uted it to the continent’s colonial inheritance (Griffiths 1995; Nhema
and Zeleza 2008). It is imperative to examine the partitioning of Africa,
the nature of the colonial state and their impact on the post-colonial
state. It is also crucial to trace the root causes of some of the problems
that post-colonial states in Africa face from a long-term historical per-
spective as this can help policymakers and peacebuilders in coming up
with strategies and approaches that could help in finding long-term
solutions. International peacebuilders have tended to focus on immedi-
ate internal causes of conflict in war-torn societies in Africa such as
corruption, patronage, authoritarianism, bad governance, greed, ethni-
city, flawed democracies and so on. While it is important not to ignore
the immediate causes of the wars, the political culture in post-colonial
Africa and political instability in African states emerging from civil war, it
is equally important not to ignore the past. Emphasizing on the state,
democratization and marketization in post-conflict reconstruction pro-
jects in Africa is a result of ignoring the role of colonization in this.2 For
Davidson (1992), the socio-political institutions that decolonized
African societies have lived and tried to survive are the root causes of
challenges that African states experience. Though the colonial inheri-
tance is not the sole cause of the problems that post-colonial African
states face, it is crucial not to ignore it if we are to understand the
underlying causes of the conflicts on the continent and also finding a
lasting solution to its war-torn societies.
In addition, the role that African societies’ customary practices and
structures play in governance and politics of the modern African state as
well as in contributing to conditions for a self-sustaining peace in African
countries emerging from violent civil war has often been gravely mis-
understood and underestimated in mainstream peacebuilding and state-
building efforts. One of the reasons for this being that the dominance of
the Western culture, frameworks and institutions has continued to
2 AFRICA BEFORE, DURING AND AFTER COLONIAL RULE 11
undermine their role in helping create conditions for a durable peace in a

post-conflict environment. Despite such customary practices and struc-
tures in situations such as Sierra Leone giving rise to conflict dynamics,
they remain important and play a significant role in governance, order
and in the provision of welfare. Moreover, they continue to have a lot of
influence in the everyday life of ordinary Africans living in rural areas. A
number of newly independent African states either undermined or sup-
pressed traditional political institutions as they embraced nation-build-
ing and modernization projects with traditional political institutions
being perceived as impediments to these progressive projects.
Additionally, a number of independent African states represented
chiefs as agents of colonial rule who were oppressive to the rural popula-
tion. Furthermore, chieftaincy was viewed as antithetical to the notion of
one-party state which among others things required the consolidation of
post-colonial power and the centralization of state authority. The atti-
tude of post-colonial African states toward traditional authority varied.
For instance, in Malawi, Botswana and Nigeria traditional authority and
practices were formally recognized and incorporated, while in Tanzania,
Guinea, Uganda and Mozambique they were at one time repressed or
formally abolished.
Despite the abolition of the chieftaincy system and the curtailing of
the chiefs’ role in national politics and local government that they had
enjoyed during colonial rule, the institution of the chief and other
traditional beliefs and practices have continued to survive and adapt. As
will be shown in the chapters that draw on fieldwork in Sierra Leone as
well as literature on Sierra Leone, despite the role of the elders and chiefs
in the civil war in Sierra Leone, ordinary Sierra Leoneans continue to
respect them and trust them more than the state and state elites.
Furthermore, indigenous political and social institutions continue to
have relevance in the economic, political, social and cultural life of many
Africans, despite the fact that African societies are now under the admin-
istration of the modern state. Interestingly, since the early 1990s, Africa
has witnessed a wave of resurgence of traditional and indigenous political
structures. This coincided with the so-called ‘third wave of democratiza-
tion’ or ‘second revolution’ on the continent as well as ‘liberal peace-
building’ in post-war societies. This renewed interest in traditional
authority has occurred not only in fragile states or countries experiencing
or emerging from civil war but also in more stable African states that are
in the process of becoming liberal democracies such as South Africa. Of
particular interest is the resurgence of traditional authority in post-con-

flict environments such as Mozambique and Liberia,3 where the inter-
national actors have invested a lot in building liberal states. In the last
two decades, a number of African governments have implemented laws
that either recognize or restore traditional leaders. In addition, in some
African countries chiefs have established associations/interest groups,
for example, the National Traditional Council of Liberia, the
Zimbabwe Council of Chiefs, The Congress of Traditional Leaders of
South Africa (CONTRALESA) and Sierra Leone’s National Council for
Paramount Chiefs/traditional leaders, among others. In Uganda, South
Africa, Namibia, Zimbabwe, Nigeria, Ghana and Zambia laws have been
implemented recognizing or restoring traditional leaders. The resilience
of these structures and practices makes it crucial not to ignore their
significance in post-conflict African societies. Before discussing the tradi-
tional political institutions in Africa, the chapter will look at the issue of
European representations of Africa.
EUROPEAN REPRESENTATIONS OF AFRICA

Many myths and stereotypes about political organization, history, phi-
losophy and cultures of African peoples during the colonial period
existed (many of them continue to exist even today) and such myths
and stereotypes need to be challenged. For instance, on 8 January 2010,
gunmen attacked a bus carrying Togolese national football players and
officials in Cabinda (Angola) on their way to the 2010 Africa Cup of
Nations in Angola. Several people, among them football players, were
injured, and two Togolese officials and an Angolan bus driver were
killed. The Cabinda separatist rebel group, Front for the Liberation of
the State of Cabinda (Flec) claimed responsibility. The Flec rebels have
been fighting for autonomy from Angola – the region has been experi-
encing a low-level insurgency. The incident happened six months before
the start of the 2010 FIFA World Cup in South Africa. Interestingly,
Western media linked South Africa with the incident. Some commenta-
tors claimed that South Africa was not safe for hosting the 2010 FIFA
World Cup. For instance, on 12 January 2010, the BBC News reported
that the English football club, Hull City’s boss, Phil Brown suggested
that the World Cup should be removed from South Africa. This is despite
the fact that Angola and South Africa are not neighboring countries and
also that South Africa had previously successfully hosted two major
international tournaments: the 2003 Cricket World Cup and the 1995
Rugby World Cup. Contrary to this, when terrorists murdered 11
Israelites athletes at the Munich Olympics in 1972, the games continued
as abandoning them would have been perceived as victory for the
terrorists.
More recently, the Ebola disease that ravaged three West African nations
of Sierra Leone, Liberia and Guinea witnessed the epidemic becoming
one of the biggest news stories in 2014, with Africa being associated with
it – helping to reinforce old stereotypes about Africa, for example, as a place
of disease. The World Health Organization (WHO) Director-General, Dr
Margaret Chan described the Ebola crisis as not only a health crisis but also
a social, economic and humanitarian crisis as well as a threat to national
security beyond the affected countries. As the healthcare systems in Sierra
Leone, Liberia and Guinea struggled to cope and were facing collapse, the
UN established the United Nations Mission for Ebola Emergency Response
(UNMEER) to contain the outbreak. However, there was a lot of panic and
fear not only in affected countries but also around the world. As Africa
became associated with Ebola, Africans felt stigmatized. Several cases of
Ebola panic, for instance, were reported in the USA with a number of
Africans (including those from countries not experiencing Ebola) facing
discrimination. For instance, on social media, it was reported that three
students returning to Inola high school in Oklahoma from a mission trip in
Ethiopia caused an Ebola scare at the school preventing students from
attending class. In Maple Shade, New Jersey, some parents forced two
children who had just moved from Rwanda to miss the start of school at
Howard Yocum Elementary school due to Ebola panic. The children had to
wait until the virus’s incubation period of 21 days had passed. Yet, the
problem of Ebola largely remained limited to the three West African coun-
tries. Much of Africa remained Ebola-free.
The picture that is often painted about African societies before the
coming of Europeans is chaotic, barbaric, violent, dangerous, mysterious,
diseased, dark and ungovernable. In his Lectures of the Philosophy of World
History, the nineteenth-century German philosopher, Geog Wilhelm
Friedrich Hegel described what he called ‘Africa proper’4 as ‘[ . . . ] the
land of childhood, removed in the light of self-conscious history and
wrapped in the dark mantle of night [ . . . ]’ (1975: 174). Besides denying
rationality to black Africans and relegating ‘Africa proper’ to ‘a land of
childhood’ and ‘immaturity’, ‘barbarism’ and with no international rela-
tions as well as being ‘difficult to comprehend’, Hegel denied its own
history and culture. Africa proper, according to Hegel, had no history:

‘What we understand as Africa proper is unhistorical and undeveloped
land which is still enmeshed in the natural spirit [ . . . ]’ (Hegel 1975: 190).
Hegel also claimed that Africa proper was isolated from the rest of the
world. The German philosopher made such claims, despite the fact that he
never visited Africa and his writings were not informed by first-hand
encounters, but relied on the writings about the continent by European
missionaries and explorers. By compressing all sub-Saharan Africa under a
single big umbrella of isolation, Hegel made a serious geographical and
conceptual blunder since not all Africa south of the Sahara was isolated.
For instance, great West African Kingdoms of Mali, Ghana and Dahomey
(Benin) actively participated in long-distance trade in which they came
into contact with the outside world, mainly the Islamic, and as for East
Africa, the region was involved in the long-distance trade networks of the
Arabian and Persian gulfs, and the Indian Ocean (Tibebu 2011).
Moreover, European explorers, missionaries, colonial administrators
and traders used European cultural benchmarks to determine whether
African societies had politics. In the absence of, for example, elections
and political parties in many African societies, they concluded that there
was no such thing as political organization in such societies. This denial of
political organization in pre-colonial African societies was based on an
ethnocentric belief that the norms, values and traditions of Europeans
were superior to those of Africans. What such Europeans failed to realize
was that African peoples could interpret the world and its realities as well as
managed their own affairs in different ways from those of Europeans since
their values, traditions, experiences, institutions, practices and cultures
were different from them. Indigenous African knowledges, values, experi-
ences, social and political institutions, and so on could have been irrelevant
to Europeans like Hegel, but relevant to the African. It is important to
note that pre-colonial Africa was not homogenous, but varied as the
African continent itself comprises of diverse ethnic groups, traditions and
customs. Furthermore, pre-colonial African societies developed varied
political systems grounded on local realities and needs.
INDIGENOUS AFRICAN POLITICAL ORGANIZATION

Contrary to European misconceptions about Africa and Africans, indigen-
ous societies in Africa had a rich variety of functional political and social
systems that strongly influenced their everyday life (and continue to do so
even today) as well as played a significant role in the maintenance of social

order and stability. Different types of government and political systems
existed in pre-colonial African societies, despite Europeans calling them
mere ‘tribal associations’. In the mid-twentieth century, British social
anthropologists with financial support from the British colonial authorities
engaged in empirical studies of political systems and the kinds of authority
found in indigenous African societies. The anthropologists sought to show
the nature of political organization in a number of African societies
demonstrating that such societies employed various means to maintain
order. The study of the African indigenous political and social systems
represents one of the major contributions of social anthropology to poli-
tical analysis of Africa’s pre-colonial political systems.
While the anthropologists found out that African societies had diverse
political systems, they noted that there were certain things that they had in
common. Fortes and Evans-Pritchard’s landmark book African Political
Systems, published in 1940, which is a collection of eight essays, is among
the works that analyze the ways in which political activities are organized
in certain African societies as well as attempt to provide an understanding
of the conditions under which each of the political systems exists. The
volume analyzes eight pre-colonial African societies, five of them being
territorial chiefdoms – the Bemba, the Zulu, the Ngwato, the Ankole and
the Kede – and the other three had no system of chiefs or a centralized
system of authority – the Tallensi, the Nuer and the Bantu of Kavirondo.
In its analysis of these different types of African political systems, the
volume made a significant contribution to the comparative study of indi-
genous political institutions. In the introduction to African Political
Systems, Fortes and Evans-Pritchard (1940) distinguished three types of
political systems in Africa. The first type includes societies that are asso-
ciated with states which had highly centralized systems of governance,
exemplified by the Zulu, Bemba, Banyankole, Ngwato and Ashanti. In a
centralized political system, the king or paramount chief exercised judicial,
legislative and executive authority. Moreover, the state had powers to
collect taxes and enforce laws.
The second type of political system, described in African Political
Systems, is found in very small societies such as the Bushmen where ‘the
largest political unit embraces a group of people all of whom are united to
one another by ties of kinship, so that political relations are conterminous
with kinship relations and the political structure and kinship organization
are completely fused’ (Fortes and Evans-Pritchard 1940: 6–7).
The third type comprises of societies with no centralized political

systems. In stateless societies, power was not concentrated in a single
ruler or ruling family consisting of a group of neighboring villages or
towns with no political link to large centralized states. In them, no sharp
divisions of wealth, status or rank existed. In the absence of a centralized
political authority, such societies have been called stateless societies.
Others have called them ‘tribes without rulers’ (Middleton and Tait
1958), acephalous or segmentary societies. In them, the segmentary
lineage system mainly regulates political relations between the various
social units. Societies consisting of segmentary lineage systems which
lacked concentrated political authority ranged from hunter-gatherers
such as the Hadza of Tanzania to cattle herders or pastoralists including
the Neur of Sudan.
Horton (1971) discusses the main area of concentration of stateless
societies in the West African sub-region, and demonstrates that geogra-
phically such societies cover a huge area of the region with a large number
of them located away from long-distance trade routes and trade junctions.
In the West African sub-region, he identifies a variety of stateless groups in
the quadrilateral in Nigeria bounded by the Cameroon Mountains, the
Mambila Plateau and the Jos Plateau. They include the Tiv, Ijo, Idoma,
Angass, Yako, Ibo, Ibibio, Ekoi, Birom and Mbembe. Further west, are
numerous pockets of stateless societies located between the Volta head-
waters and the Niger bend including the Bobo, Lowiili, Lodagaa,
Konkomba, Dogon and Birifor. There are also substantial concentrations
of stateless societies in the Western Ivory Coast, and in the Guinean and
Liberian hinterlands such as the Kru, Kissi, Bete, Dan and Gagu. In the
south-western of West Africa are groups such as the Grebo, the Mano, the
Koranko and the Bassa which, according to Horton, have systems that are
between statelessness and state organization. In the entire West African
savannah region are the Fulani pastoralists with no state structures. There
are some groups which have been described as hovering state and state-
lessness such as the Koranko of Guinea and Sierra Leone which further
attests to the challenge of precisely classifying these types (Fyle 1999).
In the absence of a centralized government system, how did these
societies manage to maintain order and peace? Anthropologists and his-
torians have demonstrated the fact that stateless societies had no centra-
lized authority does not mean that they were anarchical. Indeed, literature
on stateless societies has identified the various ways that stateless societies
used to maintain social order and stability, and to settle inter-village
disputes (see, for example, Horton 1971; Middleton and Tait 1958; Fyle
1999; Evans-Pritchard 1969). In stateless societies, there were cultural
institutions that not only provided blood ties but also cohesion (Fyle
1999). A combination of the ties including common ritual ties that they
shared formed the basis for cooperation. Segments of society had equal
power and balanced each other in disputes, which was essential for main-
taining social order and stability.
CHECKS AGAINST THE ABUSE OF POWER

In societies with centralized authority, although the chief or king, in
theory, had enormous power, he was not always despotic and dictatorial
since there were mechanisms that acted as checks and balances on his
power. Various councils and institutions checked the chief’s or kings’
power and prevented abuse of power. For example, for some societies in
Sierra Leone, institutions of the secret society and the chief’s or king’s
council played a vital role in checking the power of the chiefs or kings.
A vital social feature in Sierra Leone is the existence of secret societies
such as the Poro (men’s secret association) and the Sande/Bundu
(women’s secret association). Such secret societies place emphasis on
secrecy in everyday life and formal associations (Murphy 1980).
Although the term ‘secret society’ has been used to refer to these social
forms, membership to these societies is not concealed and every adult in
his/her rural community is supposed to be a member of a secret society.
The Poro is the dominant men’s society and is found among the Mende,
Sherbro, Kpelle and Temne ethnic groups. Traditionally, secret societies
are powerful institutions that have played various political, medical,
social, religious and legal functions including education, performing
religious rituals, judicial and maintaining traditions. In the political con-
text, one of their functions is to check the power of the kings or chiefs.
For instance, among the Temne, political power was shared among the
O’bai (the King) who was the central figure, the Kapr Mesim (Prime
Minister) who was the king’s chief adviser and intelligence officer and the
Kapr (ministers) (Alie 1990). The chief could not take important deci-
sions without first consulting the council which also included secret
society officials. Other ethnic groups like the Temne ensured that the
senior Poro officials were part of the council that comprised of the king
and his ministers which made top-level decisions. Among the Sherbro,
Poro officials played a vital role of instructing a new king on ethnic law
and custom (Ali 1990). This made it difficult for the king or chief to
make unilateral decisions as he faced resistance from the secret societies
and the community. For instance, during the colonial period, Paramount
Chiefs who owed their positions to British patronage often made moves
to consolidate their positions using any means available; however, Poro
societies would coordinate resistance to such chiefs (Fanthorpe 2007).
For example, in 1956, a Commission of inquiry that was established to
investigate the causes of widespread riots in hinterland Sierra Leone
against Paramount Chiefs’ governance between November 1955 and
March 1956 reported that men’s secret societies coordinated the riots
(Government of Sierra Leone 1956).
Moreover, consensus over substantive decisions was a central feature in
most traditional African political systems allowing rulers to exercise power
and authority via some form of consultation with the people. As Fortes and
Evans-Pritchard point out, the ‘structure of an African State implies that
kings and chiefs ruled by consent. A ruler’s subjects are as fully aware of the
duties he owes to them as they are of the duties they owe to him, and are
able to exert pressure to make him discharge these duties’ (1940: 12).
On the occasion of the chief’s accession to power, his followers
submitted a whole series of taboos and injunctions to him reminding him
of responsibilities which he accepted and put limits to his power.5 The
following are some of the examples of the injunctions that the Akan people
of Ghana declared to the chief: ‘we do not wish that he should be disobe-
dient’ and ‘we do not wish that he should act on his own initiative’ (Gykeye
1997: 122). This shows that accountability and some form of social contract
existed between the ruler and the governed in such societies. It is not
surprising that a chief who abused power would experience resistance
from his followers including the withholding of tribute. Furthermore, dis-
gruntled subjects could remove the unpopular chief from power. Moreover,
most of the pre-colonial states in Africa had no fixed boundaries making it
easy for disgruntled subjects to abandon their chief, relocate and settle in
areas outside his control. However, this changed with the colonization of
Africa by European countries from the late nineteenth century.
COLONIAL RULE AND STATE POWER

Colonialism saw an alien form of governance that was largely authoritarian
being imposed on Africans against their will. In 1885, the Berlin Congress
witnessed Western colonial states partitioning Africa into territorial units. The
partitioning was done in an arbitrary manner to the extent that a number of

unrelated areas and peoples were joined together. This period witnessed the
imperial powers of Italy, Britain, France, Germany, Spain, Portugal and
Belgium occupying the African continent and exporting a Western notion
of government on it. Consequently, many African rulers lost control of their
territories and many African societies were restructured. In the process,
African traditional political institutions were undermined. The imperial
powers justified their control of Africa and the destruction of African tradi-
tional political institutions on the grounds that this would bring civilization to
a ‘dark’ continent that was largely ‘barbaric’. The ‘civilizing mission’, what
the French proudly termed mission civilisatrice, was provided as the main
justification for European colonization of Africa. Smuts noted that it was
‘generally admitted that European control in some form [was] necessary to
the welfare and development of the African peoples’ (1930: 58).
In Africa, European imperialism of the nineteenth and twentieth
centuries came with a wide range of issues regarding how the colonies
and the ‘natives’ were to be governed. Europeans believed that their
presence in Africa would bring change to the continent. Such Europeans
claimed that they wanted to promote education and economic develop-
ment, end disease, introduce Christianity to the ‘pagans’ and end ‘pagan’
practices such as the practices of honoring ancestors and infanticide, stop
anarchic violence and endemic warfare (Fieldhouse 1981), as well as
promote political rights. In regard to dealing with what in colonial
discourse was called ‘the native question’ – the challenge of stabilizing
foreign rule in Africa – Smuts (1930: 77) raised the issue of political
rights and the colonizers’ attempts to introduce it to the ‘natives’:
The principles of the French Revolution which had emancipated Europe

were applied to Africa; liberty, equality, and fraternity could turn bad
Africans into good Europeans. The political system of the natives was
ruthlessly destroyed in order to incorporate them as equals into the white
system. The African was good as a potential European; his social and
political culture was bad, barbarous, and only deserving to be stamped out
root and branch [ . . . ] In some of the British possessions in Africa the native
just emerging from barbarism was accepted as an equal citizen with full
political rights along with the whites. But his native institutions were ruth-
lessly proscribed and destroyed. The principle of equal rights was applied in
its crudest form, and while it gave the native a semblance of equality with
whites, which was little good to him, it destroyed the basis of his African
system which was his highest good.
While the European colonizers gave the impression that they wanted to
promote political rights on the continent, in reality the colonial state did
not accept the African as an equal citizen who had political rights to be
protected and promoted. The African was portrayed as inferior as well as a
child who needed the protection of Europeans: ‘This type [the African]
has some wonderful characteristics. It has largely remained a child type,
with a child psychology and outlook. A child-like human cannot be a bad
human, for we are not in spiritual matters bidden to be like unto little
children’ (Smuts 1930: 75).
Although the African was regarded as a child, the colonial state could
not protect him/her, but subjected him/her to violence and abuse. Faced
with resistance, the colonial state had to rely on violence and coercion to
gain legitimacy among Africans. As Gyekye contends:
[ . . . ] even though the British system of government, for instance, was

itself democratic, the colonial system of rule was not democratic: the
colonial governor, who headed the colonial government, ruled by issuing
decrees (all of which may have originated from the colonial metropolis),
and the people (that is, the governed) had no share in the making of the
laws to which they were subjected or in making decisions that affected
their lives. Thus, the colonial government derived legitimacy, not from
the governed, but from the metropolis [ . . . ] the colonial system of rule
was undoubtedly a single-party or autocratic government. (1997: 137,
emphasis not mine)
Despite the use of violence and coercion, the colonial state continued to
face resistance from the colonized and found it difficult to gain legitimacy
from them. Besides the use of violence and coercion, all over Africa colonial
domination was entrenched in a ‘politics of collaboration’ (Boone 1994).
For instance, in British colonies there was a shift from ‘direct rule’ to
‘indirect rule’. Direct rule involved the British colonizers imposing their
system and culture on Africans and their institutions with attempts to
eliminate ‘barbaric’ indigenous institutions and customs. Indirect rule
was the opposite of direct rule as the British sought to govern their colonies
via indigenous rulers and customary law. Smuts viewed the new policy of
indirect rule as a means to ‘foster an indigenous native culture or system of
cultures, and to cease to force the African into alien European moulds’
(1930: 84). The British gave the chiefs and native councils the authority to
run affairs in their own areas, however, under the supervision of the
colonial rulers. Chiefs who resisted were removed from power and the
British would impose one. Thus, the chiefs and native councils no longer
derived their authority from the people, but from the colonial government.
It was thought that the new system would preserve traditional institutions,
keeping ‘intact as far as possible the native system of organisation and social
discipline’ (Smuts 1930: 99). However, colonial rule whether direct
or indirect had a negative impact on pre-colonial African forms of political
authority.
One of the outcomes of indirect rule was the creation of a dualistic
form of political power and authority as well as a plural legal order
(European colonial law and indigenous law, and in some societies such
as in Sierra Leone, Islamic law in addition to the two). The concept of
legal pluralism has been used to refer to the existence of plural legal
orders. As for dualistic forms of authority, two realms existed – the
realisms of state sovereignty and traditional governance (Sklar 1993).
Under such arrangements competition and negotiations for legitimacy
and sovereign authority between state elites and chiefs often occurred.
At times, it resulted in the co-option and regulation of chiefs. This of
course also meant the formal recognition of traditional leaders and
institutions. At times the competition also implied either the repression
or the lack of recognition or the abolition of customary institutions and
practices.
Besides constituting a political structure that supported the process of
peasantization, indirect rule saw the ‘strongmen’ in rural Africa becoming
links in hierarchical chains consisting various forms of ‘personal rule’
(Boone 1994). Chiefs often used coercive measures to collect tax from
their followers and to recruit them as farm and mine laborers for a despotic
colonial government. The chief became both a ‘native authority’ and an
administrative agent of the colonial regime. As such, the British colonial
policy of indirect rule produced despotic chiefs and dysfunctional hybrid
forms of governance at the local level, resulting in what Mamdani (1996)
has called ‘decentralized despotism’.
The colonial chain of command included the European field adminis-
trators, the field officers, commandants de circle and the chiefs (who were
below this chain of command) (Boone 1994). Colonial administrators
wielded a lot of power:
Governance through hierarchies of personal power was a pervasive mode of

domination under colonialism. Personal discretion gave local-level
authorities room and opportunity to modify policies from the center in

response to local circumstances, or in order to promote or protect their
interests. (Boone 1994: 117)
Indeed, colonial administration did not serve the needs and interests of the
governed and it was not based on social contract. Whatever methods the
colonialists used were designed to serve the interests of imperial govern-
ments. As Davidson (1992: 12) puts it: ‘So these, being alien models failed
to achieve legitimacy in the eyes of a majority of African citizens, and soon
proved unable to protect and promote the interests of those citizens, save for
a privileged few’. This meant coercion could be used if it served the interests
of the colonial government. Colonial rule which was won via violence and
had to be maintained through the use of violence and coercion. Young
(1994) uses the image of Bula Matari (the crusher of rocks) to describe
the autocratic nature of the colonial state. In the Congo, the Belgians under
King Leopold committed atrocities against the Congolese, used them as
cheap labor as well as exploited the Congo’s resources for the much needed
raw materials in the metropolitan state.6 In Zimbabwe colonial rule was also
exercised using brutality and dispossession. For example, the late 1890s
witnessed the British settlers forcibly removing indigenous people away
from the most productive land to newly created tribal reserves that had
infertile soils such as Gwai and Shangani in Matabeleland.7 Consequently,
the indigenous people were denied rights to own land in the most agricul-
turally productive parts of the country. Thus, they ended up serving the
settlers by providing manual labor on the commercial farms, in industry and
on the mines. This also contributed to the weakening of pre-colonial political
structures. Moreover, alterations in production in rural areas and in regard to
control over economic surpluses also contributed to the destabilization of
indigenous political systems (Boone 1994). Similarly, Young (1994: 9)
observes that the African colonial state ‘totally reordered political space,
societal hierarchies and cleavages, and modes of economic production’.
One of the key characteristics of the colonial state was dominance, hence
its destruction of many traditional African political institutions using means
that would enhance hegemony over the territory under its rule.
As Young (1994) contends, although the African colonial state enjoyed
some of the defining attributes of stateness (territory,8 population, power,
law and state as an idea), it lacked three crucial traits for a modern state,
namely, external actor, sovereignty and nation. The colonial state was not
an actor in the international system. Sovereignty is understood in two
senses: internal and external. External sovereignty implies that the state is
an international legal person and internal sovereignty exists when the state
has unlimited theoretical domination over its citizens (Young 1994). Since
imperial states had full control over the government of the colonies (with
the help of their agents of rule), African colonial states lacked sovereignty.
Since in many parts of Africa many unrelated areas and peoples were
joined together, colonial rule denied various nations in Africa their right to
freedom, independence and self-rule. As noted earlier, in Africa colonialism
resulted in people from a wide range of languages, histories and cultures
being put within one state. Unlike in Europe where nation-states were a
result of local social forces, the modern nation-state in Africa emerged from
colonial oppression. Indeed, as Gyekye rightly puts it, the ‘conquerors who
shepherded different nationalities into nation-states failed to realise that it is
one thing to make Ghana or Kenya or Yugoslavia; it is quite another to
make Ghanaians or Kenyans or Yugoslavs’ (1997: 82). As such, most of the
states in Africa face a challenge of populations that are divided along
political lines, posing a serious threat to political stability within the states
as well as in neighboring states. This colonial legacy was inherited by Africa
and has continued to be a serious challenge for the post-colonial state,
leading Davidson (1992) to comment that the nation-state has proved to
be a curse for post-colonial Africa.
COLONIAL INHERITANCE AND POST-COLONIAL

CHALLENGES IN AFRICA
Agency is crucial in understanding the transition from colonial to post-
colonial rule in Africa and the role of African actors in building the post-
colonial state. African actors from Ghana to Zimbabwe to Namibia to South
Africa had to struggle and fight for independence as well as shaped the
decolonization process, though not all of them preferred to fight. Some
collaborated with the colonial administrators. For instance, in Zimbabwe
(then Rhodesia), nationalist leaders including Bishop Abel Muzorewa,
Reverend Ndabaningi Sithole and chief Jeremiah Chirau cooperated with
the white settler regime led by Ian Smith and opted for an internal settle-
ment with the Smith regime, while Robert Mugabe and Joshua Nkomo
continued to fight as they felt that total independence could only be
achieved through an armed struggle. The internal settlement saw
Muzorewa being sworn in as Prime Minister of Zimbabwe-Rhodesia in
May 1979. Although Zimbabwean nationalists who had opted for an
armed struggle against the settler regime condemned and labeled

Muzorewa and other black leaders as ‘stooges’ and ‘zvimbwasungata’
(‘puppets’) for entering a settlement with the Smith regime that still pro-
tected white minority interests, the move undermined the white minority
regime’s project of extending its monopoly of political power indefinitely
since the principle of black majority rule was incorporated in the Rhodesian
constitution. This move was contrary to Ian Smith’s 1976 declaration: ‘Let
me say it again. I don’t believe in black majority rule ever in Rhodesia, not in
a thousand years’ (quoted in Baxter 2014: 21).
In Africa, the nationalism of the 1950s and 1960s not only played a
significant role in removing colonial rule but also in producing Africa’s
modern ‘nation-states’. In 1957, Ghana became the first sub-Saharan
African state to gain independence from British colonial rule. Egypt and
Libya – North African states – had gained independence in 1952 and 1951,
respectively. The late 1950s and early 1960s witnessed colonial flags being
lowered, and colonial masters packing their bags and handing over power to
the indigenous people. Not all African states became independent during this
period, and as such, the struggle for independence continued unabated, with
independent states continuing to oppose colonialism and racism, and offering
support to nationalist movements in non-independent states. This led to the
creation of institutions and structures aimed at fighting colonialism, imperi-
alism and racialism. For instance, from 16 to 18 September 1958, represen-
tatives of political parties from Uganda, Zanzibar, Nyasaland and Kenya held
a conference in Mwanza, Tanganyika, which led to the creation of the Pan-
African Freedom Movement of East and Central Africa (PAFMECA).9 The
organization’s main objective was to coordinate regional activities toward the
attainment of independence of East and Central Africa states still struggling
against colonial rule. In 1963, out of a spirit of pan-Africanism, heads of 32
independent African states came together to establish a regional intergovern-
mental organization, the Organization of African Unity (OAU) in Addis
Ababa, Ethiopia. Article 2 of the Charter of the OAU outlines five main
purposes of the organization:
1. To promote the unity and solidarity of the African States;

2. To coordinate and intensify their cooperation and efforts to achieve
a better life for the peoples of Africa;
3. To defend their sovereignty, their territorial integrity and
independence;
4. To eradicate all forms of colonialism from Africa; and
5. To promote international cooperation, having due regard to the

Charter of the United Nations and the Universal Declaration of
Human Rights.
For the first generation of African leaders, a focus on these issues was
crucial for promoting unity, peace, stability and security on the continent.
In Africa, the decolonization process created a wave of optimism, and
expectations of rapid economic growth. The transition from colonial rule
to independence was not easy for many African states as the legacies of
colonialism created challenges that proved difficult to deal with. For
instance, the colonial creation of artificial state boundaries in which a
variety of ethnic groups were lumped together and often many commu-
nities straddling boundaries with neighboring states presented two main
challenges for post-colonial governments: first, the likelihood of irredent-
ism; and second, the possibility of intra-ethnic conflict (Thomson 2000).
External observers and the new African leaders shared the expectation of
widespread and protracted border disputes with Kwame Nkrumah, the
president of Ghana, warning in 1958 against the risks inherent in the
colonial ‘legacies of irredentism and tribalism’ (Touval 1999: vii). For
instance, at independence in 1960, Somali nationalist leaders sought to
unite Somali-inhabited territories in the Horn of Africa under the political
authority of Somalia, which colonialism had divided. Article 6(4) of
Somalia’s 1960 constitution states that the ‘Somali Republic shall pro-
mote, by legal and peaceful means, the union of Somali territories’. There
was a drive to unite ethnic Somalis in Ethiopia, Kenya and Djibouti under
the Somali polity. As a result, border disputes erupted between Somalia
and Ethiopia over the Ogaden region of Ethiopia, and between Kenya and
Somalia over the North Eastern province of Kenya inhabited by a large
population of Somalis.
Faced with the problem of border disputes, it is not surprising that
the OAU in its first ordinary session of the Assembly of Heads of
State and Government held between 17 and 21 July 1964 in Cairo,
Egypt, adopted a resolution on border disputes which recognized
that the border challenge constituted ‘a grave and permanent factor
of dissention’ and also that the borders of African states at indepen-
dence constituted ‘a tangible reality’. The OAU decided to retain
and legitimate colonial boundaries declaring that all Member
States ‘pledge themselves to respect the frontiers existing on their
achievement of national independence’. As Davidson contends, the
nation-statism that resulted from the nationalism in Africa ‘looked like a

liberation, and really began as one. But it did not continue as a liberation.
In practice, it was not a restoration of Africa to Africa’s own history, but
the onset of a new period of indirect subjection to the history of Europe’
(Davidson 1992: 10). Since the decolonization process was fast, African
leaders failed to pay proper attention to the feasibility of the units being
constructed (Herbst 2000).
Since the new African leaders wanted to avoid border disputes, the idea
of gaining control of territory via wars of expansion as happened in Europe
was strongly discouraged, at the same time, the new African leaders
‘rejected the entire precolonial tradition of multiple sovereignties overland
with soft borders’ (Herbst 2000: 97). Peasants could not be incorporated
into mainstream politics. Herbst (2000) has observed that the post-colo-
nial state, just like its pre-colonial predecessor, failed to consolidate power
within its entire territory. The state failed to extend its power beyond the
cities, partly due to the low population densities in many African states and
its failure to incorporate into mainstream politics the majority of Africans
who lived in the rural areas. However, the international society through the
UN recognized independent states in Africa as legitimate actors in the
international system as well as supported nationalist movements against
colonialism rather than secessionist wars to create independent states.
Thus, secessionist wars, for example, Katanga in the Congo (1960–
1964), Biafra in Nigeria (1966–1969) and Southern Sudan in Sudan
(1955–1972) never received support from the international community
and the OAU. As such, the international environment for African states was
generally secure (Clapham 1998), while the domestic environment
remained insecure. By so doing, the international community and the
regional organization, OAU successfully proscribed force as a means to
produce states on the continent (Jackson and Rosberg 1982). New norms
including ex-colonial self-determination, anti-colonialism and racial sover-
eignty supported by democratic and egalitarian values with origins from the
Western social and political movements determined the right for such
states to exist (Jackson 1990). Moreover, as Jackson writes:
The ex-colonial states have been internationally enfranchised and possess the
same external rights and responsibilities as all other sovereign states: juridical
statehood. At the same time, however, many have not yet been authorised
and empowered domestically and consequently lack the institutional features
of sovereign states as also defined by classical international law. (1990: 21)
As such, at independence many, if not all, African states attained inter-

national sovereignty and legitimacy; however, they had no ability to
exercise control10 over the people within its territorial borders. As
Jackson points out, such states reveal ‘limited empirical statehood’ and
as such are not ‘real’ states, but ‘quasi-states’. Instead of producing ‘real’
states, post-colonial statebuilding in Africa led to the formation of
‘quasi-states’. The international acceptance of ‘quasi states’ in Africa
was a significant factor in the ‘rapid African rejection of any indigenous
alternative’ (Herbst 2000: 100). However, African rulers faced complex
post-independence challenges (including tribalism) that inhibited them
from building effective states within the inherited frontiers.
Centralization of Power
In response to this challenge, African leaders resorted to the centraliza-
tion of power banning multi-party politics as they saw such form of
politics as anti-progress and divisive, and therefore, a potential threat
to peace, unity and stability. Moreover, the dominant view at the time
was that the main task of the post-colonial state was to pursue social and
economic development. Competition between various political parties
was seen as a potential threat to progress and unity. For instance, Kwame
Nkrumah, the president of Ghana, rejected Ashanti claims for autonomy.
He became a strong critic of the multi-party system in Ghana. Other
African leaders who dismantled the multi-party system in their states
include Felix Houphouet-Boigny of Côte d’Ivoire, Kenneth Kaunda of
Zambia, Ahmed Sekou Toure of Guinea and Julius Nyerere of Tanzania.
The African leaders justified their actions on the grounds that this would
promote national unity in the new African states. A strong government
was considered essential in welding the nation together that was divided
along ethnic lines. It was argued that the single-party system represented
‘the will of all the people’, it permitted ‘mass participation in decision-
making’ and in so doing encouraged ‘the development of a sense of
personal responsibility in government’ (Cowan 1964: 8). Furthermore,
African leaders argued that a single-party system was more democratic
than the West’s multi-party system since it did not ‘represent only the
interest of a group, a section or an economic class in the population’
(Cowan 1964: 8). Thus, in many African countries, the Western-style
institutions of parliamentary government that colonial rule had estab-
lished were dismantled and opposition movements, the media and civil
society were subjected to repression. In response to the Western critics of

the single-party system in Africa that it was undemocratic, Cowan (1964:
10) argues:
The Western nations – Britain, the United States, France and others – have
taken generations to develop those political institutions which they feel will
best serve the needs of their societies, and the process is by no means
finished. The parliaments, and the parliamentary forms devised by Britain
and France and deeded to the colonies in Africa, were developed as a felt
response over the course of centuries to the needs of European societies. It is
not expected that these institutions will always meet the needs of African
societies, whose traditions and backgrounds differ from our own.
It is generally agreed that states should create political institutions that

serve the needs and interests of their societies. In Africa, colonial political
institutions modeled on the Western notion of a state never served the
interests of Africans. However, the new African leaders who sought to
modify the inherited political institutions with the aim of promoting
consensus democracy and consequently, the needs and interests of
African societies, abandoned this project as they sought to promote their
personal interests and those of their own ethnic groups. As a result, the
African post-colonial state was not different from its colonial predecessor.
As Cowan (1964: 13) argues, the new African states suffered from a
‘built-in instability’ which basically derived from the rapid process of mod-
ernization. This rapid modernization process deeply affected the founda-
tions of many African societies as in government various new types of
authority emerged. For instance, Cowan observes that ‘one day a man may
be a farmer in his field, and almost the next day, a Member of Parliament, or a
Minister’ (1964: 14). The operation of a modern society alongside a tradi-
tional one (that colonialism failed to totally eradicate) also became a source
of social and political instability in independent Africa. As such, the African
leaders saw a single-party system as a means to control the political process
and deal with the political and social instability resulting from these conflicts.
Neo-Patrimonial and Clientelistic Politics

As post-colonial nation and statebuilding failed to achieve unity among
diverse groups, personal rule, neo-patriomonialism and clientelistic poli-
tics became dominant features of African politics. Since an extensive
literature has dealt with the subjects of personal rule, clientelism and the
neo-patrimonial nature of many African states, this chapter will not pro-
vide a detailed discussion of this here.11 Local ‘big men’ became central
figures in African politics, thus displacing the local governments that the
post-colonial state had inherited from the pre-colonial state, as will be
shown in Chapter 6 in relation to Sierra Leone. Such local ‘big men’
manipulated various ethnic groups for personal gain including access to
state resources. Chazan and others note that, ‘Competition over access to
and control of state resources nurtured an instrumental view of politics in
which the public domain was seen as a channel for individual or partisan
enrichment’ (1999: 12). Thus, it is not surprising that in the 1970s, a
number of African states experienced political, economic and social chal-
lenges: brutal leaders who were intolerant to popular opposition, military
regimes12 and civil wars, and the economic failure. Brutal leaders who
emerged during this period include Jean-Bedel Bokassa of the Central
African Republic and Idi Amini of Uganda. Thus, in the late 1970s, the
post-colonial state was variously labeled: pirate, predatory or even vampire
state (Young 2004: 37).
Moreover, most post-African states’ economies could not meet the
economic expectations of development. Africans who at independence
had high expectations of their government to promote development that
would see an improvement of their lives were left disillusioned as their
governments failed to meet their expectations.13 One of the implications
of this was the damage done to state legitimacy. Writing about state
legitimacy, Englebert (2000: 4) notes that a state is considered legitimate
‘when its structures have evolved endogenously to its own society and there
is some level of historical continuity to its institutions. State legitimacy is
thus a historical, structural condition of the entire state apparatus’. Using
this definition of state legitimacy, the post-colonial African state lacked
legitimacy. Since the leaders of the new African states faced a serious
challenge to ‘acquire sufficient hegemony over their society in order to
stabilize and routinize their power’, it became hard for them to ‘use devel-
opmental policies and institutions to generate support for themselves’, since
these needed ‘a level of bureaucratic loyalty and a degree of supply response
from private agents [ . . . ]’ (Englebert 2000: 5). As the post-colonial African
state lacked this, it promoted the growth of corruption, rent-seeking, pre-
dation and patronage among other activities in many African states.
Consequently, the state’s capacity to provide institutions necessary for
fostering economic growth was severely curtailed. In this case, African
leaders, just like any other political actors, had to ‘respond rationally to the
historical constraints that they [had] inherited’ (Englebert 2000: 7). The
structures that the post-colonial state inherited from colonialism could not
promote both economic growth and technological advancement. The neo-
patrimonialism mechanism became a means of maintaining the state on ‘an
inadequate social and economic base’ (Clapham 2002: 780). However, this
tended to undermine the state’s effectiveness. With the world recession of
the late 1970s, many African states faced serious economic crisis that to
some extent threatened neo-patrimonial relations since they became
increasingly dependent on external actors, including their international
patrons, especially the USA and the USSR, and international donors.
Such actors also became involved in the internal affairs of these states,
thus contributing to the undermining of the principle of state sovereignty
that the OAU had advocated at its inception in the early 1960s.
Foreign Intervention
Besides the internal political factors that led to the crumbling of domes-
tic political order in Africa, external meddling in the internal affairs of
African states in the post-independence period also contributed to many
of the challenges that are affecting them today.14 This includes military
and political intervention during the periods of decolonization (1956–
1975) and the Cold War (1945–1991) which was largely extra-conti-
nental as the colonial powers, the USA, China, Cuba and the Soviet
Union involved themselves in conflicts in African states (see Schmidt
2013). Former colonial powers (mainly France, Britain, Belgium and
Portugal) wanted to control the decolonization process hoping to
establish neo-colonial regimes that would protect their economic and
political interests. Neo-colonialism became the order of the day in post-
independence Africa. As Kwame Nkrumah wrote in his Neo-colonialism:
The Last Stage of Imperialism, ‘The essence of neo-colonialism is that the
state which is subject to it is, in theory, independent and has all the
outward trappings of international sovereignty. In reality its economic
system and thus its political policy is directed from outside’ (1965: ix).
Neo-colonialism in Africa became an obstacle to political integration and
good and effective leadership on the continent as former colonial powers
supported even authoritarian regimes as long as such regimes protected
their strategic geopolitical interests, not those of ordinary Africans.
A typical example of a neo-colonial agent is Mobuto Sese Seko of Zaire
who collaborated with the West to eliminate Patrice Lumumba, Zaire’s

first legally elected black prime minister as well as to undermine govern-
ments in Southern and Central Africa and liberation movements in the
region.
Since the decolonization process was not smooth as the continent
experienced conflicts and instability as in the case of Zaire, it paved way
for Cold War competition in Africa, turning the continent into a battle-
ground for Cold War rivalry between the USA and the Soviet Union,
and their associated blocs bent on serving their own interests. The Cold
War divided the continent into ideological spheres of influence with
proxy wars playing out in countries including Ethiopia, Mozambique,
Guinea, Zaire, Ghana, Somalia and Angola. For instance, Cold War
competition between the superpowers promoted conflict in post-colo-
nial Angola as the USA and Soviet Union supported the three major
nationalist movements that had emerged during the liberation war
against Portuguese colonial rule – the National Liberation Front of
Angola (FNLA), the Popular Movement for the Liberation of Angola
(MPLA) and Union for the Total Independence of Angola (UNITA).
As the official date (11 November 1975) for the Portuguese colonial
government to officially withdraw from Angola and the independence
of the country approached, the nationalist movements battled for the
control of the capital and the country. The war developed into a proxy
Cold War conflict as nationalist movements received support from
superpowers whose support was based on their own Cold War strategic
interests. While UNITA and FNLA received military and financial sup-
port from the USA, South Africa and Zaire, MPLA was backed by the
Soviet Union and Cuba. The superpower support sustained fighting
between the MPLA government and the UNITA rebels. Furthermore,
the French’s intervention in south-east Congo in 1977 and 1978 when
dissidents based in Angola invaded the region intensified the Cold War
competition on the continent (Clapham 2005).
In addition to the above, the world economic crisis of the late 1970s
and the early 1980s which saw a decline in growth rates in many
African states had profound effects on the African state. Africa appeared
to be the hardest hit compared to other regions of the world during
this period. There was a decline in growth rates in many African states
and an increase of their economic dependence, and external debts.15
The involvement of external actors, including the World Bank and its
implications on the post-colonial state in Africa cannot be ignored.
In 1979, the African Governors of the World Bank requested the

World Bank to prepare a report on the economic development crisis
in African countries and make recommendations to it. This resulted in
the publication of the report Accelerated Development in Sub-Saharan
Africa: An Agenda for Action in 1981. In this report, the World Bank
recognized both internal and external factors as affecting the growth
rate on the continent. External factors included an increase in oil
prices, a fall in mineral prices, mainly in iron ore and copper, and a
decrease in the demand for primary commodities, while internal factors
included, overvalued official exchange rates which did not reflect its
scarcity, bias against peasant agriculture, excessive state interference in
the economy, and an inefficient and over-protected industrial sector.
For instance, excessive state interference in the economy including
price controls led to a production crisis and the rise of the black
market; private property laws that were not clear could not create a
favorable climate for private investment and the use of public jobs as a
means to reward allies promoted inefficiency. Thus, the state had dis-
mally performed during this economic crisis due to its less sustainable
policies, agricultural bureaucracy, inefficiency and so on. While at inde-
pendence the state had been viewed as a key agent for progress, it
began to be seen as an impediment to progress.
As the economic crisis continued in the 1980s, many African regimes
sought assistance from the international financial institutions (IFIs)
including the World Bank and the IMF and Western donors. The inter-
national donors could only provide assistance on the condition that
African governments in question would change their policy that led
them into the crisis. As a result, in the 1980s, reform in the form of
structural adjustment programs (SAPs) and stabilization policies under
the World Bank and the IMF with the support of powerful Western states
became some of the strategies meant to help African countries emerge out
of their economic problems. Foreign experts working for the World Bank
and the IMF became involved in African states’ economic decision mak-
ing. The World Bank, in its 1994 report, Adjustment in Africa: Reforms,
Results, and the Road Ahead, states the objective of SAPs as ‘to establish a
market-friendly set of incentives that can encourage the accumulation of
capital and more efficient allocation of resources’ (1994: 2). For this
objective to be achieved the state was required to reduce its role in the
economy, and promote market liberalization and privatization. As
Abrahamsen writes:
Structural adjustment was intended as an assault on inefficiency, waste and

corruption, and, in its name, state bureaucracies across the continent have
been drastically reduced and economic regulation dismantled in order to
leave the market more or less free from the perceived political and destruc-
tive intervention of the state. (2001: 85)
Unfortunately, in Africa SAPs failed to attain their stated objectives. SAPs

tended to focus more on the economic dimensions of adjustment at the
expense of human dimensions (Tarp 1993: 123). Thus, this led to nega-
tive social consequences. For instance, the SAPs era witnessed an increase
in the rates of unemployment, poverty, corruption and the prices of basic
commodities as well as health care and education costs. Indeed, SAPs
intensified inequalities in Africa. Moreover, the state was further alienated
from the needs of the majority of its citizens, thus continued to lose its
legitimacy. In response to the negative social consequences SAPs caused
on ordinary Africans, UNICEF (1987) called for adjustment with a
‘human face’. In other words, SAPs needed to be people-centered.
Besides worsening the situation of the poor, the IMF/World Bank pro-
grams could not recognize a crucial aspect of the logic of governance in many
post-colonial Africa states, discussed earlier – state elites’ use patrimonial net-
works vital for elite cohesion (Abrahamsen 2001; Taylor 2007). As noted
earlier, through neo-patrimonial networks elites distribute state resources
to various clients (e.g. ethnic groups) in order to meet and maintain their
demands. This, to some extent, would avert political instability. Structural
adjustment meant the limitation of the distribution of these resources
to clients. The involvement of external advisers on managing their economies
acted as an impediment to the distribution of resources through neo-patri-
monial networks. This affected the elites’ ability to satisfy their neo-patrimo-
nial networks which helped to maintain stability in their states. In order to
avoid this, African leaders manipulated the reform process. Abrahamsen
(2001: 86) is of the view that through the ‘manipulation of structural adjust-
ment, many African elites have succeeded in making dependency a personally
profitable and beneficial enterprise, even if the result for the majority of people
has been devastating’. Indeed, the SAPs generated wealth for elites and
provided them with resources they needed to remain in power with ordinary
people continuing to suffer and languish in poverty. On the other hand, these
economic measures further weakened the African state resulting from the
outsourcing of a number of its functions to NGOs (Zack-Williams and
Mohan 2007).
In response, in many parts of Africa, ordinary Africans waged anti-SAPs

protests as the state could no longer protect them from worst excesses
of the adjustment programs. Moreover, people created ‘autonomous poli-
tical and economic spaces’ such as informal markets; smuggled goods
across national borders; constructed ‘a system of multiple modes of liveli-
hood’; and directed ‘challenges to the state through support for social
movements challenging state hegemony’ (Zack-Williams and Mohan
2007: 417–18). Indeed, internal opposition and external intervention
posed a serious challenge to the state’s monopoly of power. Faced with
these various challenges, it is not surprising that in the 1980s and 1990s a
number of African states either failed or collapsed. The situation worsened
with the end of the Cold War and the collapse of the USSR in the late
1980s which meant the end of super power support that had helped
maintain client states.
Intrastate Conflicts in the Post-Cold War Period

The end of the Cold War also witnessed the spread of democratic and
participatory politics across sub-Saharan Africa with varying success. This
upsurge in democratic transitions in Africa saw a number of African states
adopting constitutions that aimed at promoting multi-party systems,
separating the powers of the executive, the judiciary and the legislative,
promoting human rights and free and fair elections. However, this
upsurge in democratic transitions in Africa coincided with an increase in
the number of intrastate wars on the continent. In the 1990s, the con-
tinent experienced deadly conflicts in the east (Somalia), the west (Sierra
Leone and Liberia), in central Africa (the Democratic Republic of Congo)
and the south (Angola).
Millions of people have died as a result of the intrastate conflicts on
the continent as combatants have tended to target civilians. In Rwanda,
Hutu extremists massacred over 800,000 Tutsis and moderate Hutus in
1994. The aftermath of the Rwanda genocide spilled over into the
DRC and over five million people have been killed in the country
since the outbreak of the civil war in 1998. Africa has become home
to the largest number of displaced persons (both internally displaced
persons and refugees) in the world. These intense intrastate conflicts
and humanitarian crises led to mounting international appeals for the
need to intervene in conflict-ridden countries on humanitarian
grounds. Indeed, civil wars that erupted in Africa and other countries
in the developing world posed a big challenge to the UN’s traditional

peacekeeping approach. With the emergence of failed or collapsed
states in developing countries including Sierra Leone, Liberia
Somalia, the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), the UN soon
realized that the traditional peacekeeping approach could no longer
deal with failed or collapsed states. The implementation of peace set-
tlements in countries emerging from violent internal conflict required
multi-functional peace operations. Thus, promoting the liberal peace in
such countries became high on the international agenda.
CONCLUSION
History is a very significant, but much overlooked factor in the experiences
of conflict-prone societies in Africa and most importantly, the history of
external intervention in Africa. Here, I am not just referring to European
colonialization of Africa that led to the creation of states with artificial
political boundaries, which undermined existing political institutions and
their particular insertion into the world economy, but also the impact of
foreign intervention during the Cold War on African states, and the failed
development experiments that powerful international actors have imposed
on sub-Saharan Africa, from the immediate post-independence period
(the 1960s) including the SAPs, now dressed up as Poverty Reduction
Strategies Papers. It is crucial to understand how these external economic
policies have restructured African societies as well as increased inequalities
in these societies. As the chapter has shown, in addition to the political
culture in Africa, this has contributed to the explosion of so many fragile
states in Africa. Interestingly, as will be discussed in the following chapters,
the last two decades have witnessed international actors attempting to
bring back such states from anarchy and violent conflict using the same
policies without an understanding of the context in which peacebuilding
programs are implemented including the root causes of the conflict and
the political culture in the host state.
NOTES
1. The use of the term ‘state’ in the singular as in colonial state or post-
colonial state reflects the similarities found in these states that significantly
influence their political culture. It is crucial to point out that I do acknowl-
edge the diversity of Africa and that it should not be portrayed as
homogenous; however, in that heterogeneity there are some common

traits that can be useful in analyzing some of the challenges being faced
in African states.
2. Though there are also pre-colonial practices that have continued to exist, in
most cases in modified forms, the emphasis on colonial inheritance in this
chapter is that colonialism brought significant changes to the nature of
socio-political organization in Africa. This does not mean that the pre-
colonial period is not significant in influencing events in Africa. As will be
shown in Chapter 6, traditional political institutions have continued to exist
along with modern institutions.
3. Unlike her predecessors, President Ellen Johnson Sirleaf’s government has
offered a high level of recognition to traditional leaders. On 21 July 2009,
the New Liberian reported that during the official opening of the head-
quarters of the National Traditional Council of Liberia in Monrovia on 17
July 2009, President Sirleaf described traditional leaders as ‘the unifying
strength of Liberia’.
4. Hegel divided Africa into three parts: Africa proper which is located in the
South of the Sahara desert, European Africa which is North Africa, north of
the Sahara Desert, and Asian Africa which is the region of the Nile and
according to him is closely connected to Asia.
5. Gykeye (1997) offers an interesting discussion of the Akan of Ghana and
their relation to their chiefs, and Ali (1990) discusses this in the context of
Sierra Leonean ethnic groups such as the Temne.
6. On colonial rule in Congo, see, for example, Nzongola-Ntalaja (2002);
Hochschild (1998) and Young (1994).
7. The legacy of colonialism as it relates to issues such as the land question has
remained problematic in southern African states including Zimbabwe,
Namibia and South Africa.
8. The idea of territory in colonial Africa was ambiguous since boundaries were
drawn arbitrarily without even consulting a single African political authority,
as a result various groups ended up living in the same state. However, there
were a few cases in Africa (e.g. Swaziland and Lesotho) in which new nation
states matched the pre-colonial societies.
9. In 1962, PAFMECA changed its name of Pan-African Freedom Movement
of East, Central and Southern Africa (PAFMECSA) so as to coordinate
support for liberation in territories of East, Central and Southern Africa.
10. I adopt Jackson and Rosberg’s (1982: 6) definition of exercise of control:
‘the ability to pronounce, implement, and enforce commands, laws, policies
and regulations’.
11. For a detailed discussion of this, see, for example, Young (2004); Thomson
(2000); Bratton and van de Walle (1994); Jackson and Rosberg (1984); van
de Walle (2003) and Chabal and Daloz (1999).
12. Thomson (2000) has observed that between 1952 and 1990 Africa experi-
enced 71 military coups that overthrew governments in 60 per cent of the
continent’s states.
13. Not all African countries faced a decline in economic growth and the crisis
varied widely. For example, Botswana has been labeled a success story, ‘an
African miracle’ (see Samatar 1999), given its fast rate of economic growth;
Ghana, Sierra Leone, Zaire and Sudan were of persistent economic crisis,
while other countries such as Benin, Burkina Faso and Senegal stagnated
and others including Mozambique, Uganda, Angola and Central Africa
Republic, external intervention and civil war lowered the growth rates (see
Faber and Green 1985).
14. For an interesting and detailed discussion of foreign intervention since
decolonization, see Schmidt (2013).
15. There is an extensive literature on the low or negative growth rates in Africa
from the late 1970s to the early 1980s, this section will not provide a
detailed discussion of it (see, e.g., Sahn 1994; Faber and Green 1985; The
World Bank 1981, 1983, 1994; Englebert 2000; Lawrence 1986).
CHAPTER 3
Peacebuilding, Statebuilding
and Liberal Peace
The violent intrastate conflicts in many parts of Africa and other parts of
the developing world that coincided with the end of the Cold War
witnessed an increasing change in both the norms and practice of inter-
national response to violent intrastate conflict, involving both state and
non-state actors. In response to this, the UN took a leading role in
multidimensional peace support operations that were aimed at preventing
a return to conflict and promoting durable peace in situations including
Namibia (1989), Cambodia (1991–1992), Mozambique (1992–1994),
Bosnia and Herzegovina (1995–2002), El Salvador (1991–1995), Haiti
(1993–1996, the Central African Republic (1998–2000), Sierra Leone
(1999–2005) and East Timor (1999–2002). Since the UN’s traditional
peacekeeping approach primarily sought to minimize interstate conflict
through monitoring ceasefires between hostile states, it could not match
the emerging post-Cold War peace and security challenges in low-income
countries. Peacebuilding could no longer be limited to keeping warring
parties from returning to conflict, but also addressing the root causes of
conflict including promoting development. Underdevelopment became
increasingly linked with violent conflict and insecurity in low-income
countries. This was later linked to security and terrorism, particularly, in
the so-called collapsed, failed, failing and weak states. The development of
the concept of statebuilding in the 1990s should be seen as a response to
the challenges that such states posed. Moreover, the 11 September 2001
terrorist attacks on the USA witnessed the international community

DOI 10.1057/978-1-137-57291-2_3
putting more emphasis on statebuilding. These attacks had been attribu-

ted to a ‘failed’ state in Afghanistan.
In the early 1990s, the idea of peacebuilding was not very clear in policy
terms and as such, there was a gradual development of the UN-led multi-
dimensional peace missions.1 These missions comprised of local (state elites)
and regional actors, international actors including leading states such as the
UK and the USA, the UN and its agencies, international financial institu-
tions including the World Bank and IMF, international and NGOs, bilateral
organizations such as the United States Agency for International
Development (USAID) and UK’s Department for International
Development (DFID). Although these peace support operations lacked
coordination and cooperation among the various actors, a loose consensus
emerged – that of establishing strong and effective Western liberal demo-
cratic states in war-torn societies as a surest means to bring to an end
intrastate conflict and to establish lasting peace. Peacebuilding became
connected to the state through liberal peacebuilding.
This chapter provides an overview of some fundamental definitions of
the concepts post-conflict, peacebuilding, statebuilding, liberalism and the
liberal peace. It also offers a distinction between peacebuilding and state-
building. These concepts have often been used interchangeably; however,
they are distinct, thus should not be conflated. It is also crucial to point
out that the term ‘post-conflict’ is problematic, thus its meaning in the
context of this book needs to be clarified.
CONCEPTUALIZING ‘POST-CONFLICT’
The concept ‘post-conflict’ has been used in various senses and at times in
a confusing way. As Lambach (2007) points out, the challenge about the
concept of post-conflict relates to the fact that the prefix ‘post-’ is a
temporal signifier that is attached to a noun ‘conflict’ that does not have
a fixed temporal content. For him, an outcome of this is that the idea of
post-conflict leads to a mental dichotomy that transforms ‘conflict’ into a
synonym of war and post-conflict into a synonym of peace. In this dichot-
omy, the idea of ‘conflict’ relates to situations in which organized groups
engage in acts of violence against each other. For instance, a state against a
rebel movement, and this is conducted in accordance with a dominant
conflict narrative, whereas, post-conflict would mean the end of such
violence, and a return to normalcy and peace (Lambach 2007).
3 PEACEBUILDING, STATEBUILDING AND LIBERAL PEACE 41
Yet, such an understanding of post-conflict makes it hard to provide a

clear understanding of extensive violence, as in the case of the genocide in
Rwanda or situations where open warfare has taken long to end in which
there has been a slowdown in violence, for example, northern Uganda. In
northern Uganda, after the signing of the cessation of hostilities agreement
between the rebel movement, the Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA) and the
government of Uganda in 2006 (the Comprehensive Peace Agreement was
never signed), the government of Uganda encouraged internally displaced
persons (IDPs) to return to their homes as it considered the situation a post-
conflict one. Yet, the LRA rebels have not laid down its arms, but are now
operating in eastern Central African Republic and north-eastern
Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), where the rebels engage in abduc-
tions and brutal attacks on civilians. As such, conflict in northern Uganda
has slowed down with the retreat of the LRA to DRC, Central African
Republic and South Sudan. The same question can be raised about South
Africa: whether it can be considered a post-conflict situation given an
increase in criminal violence and continued deterioration of human security
since the end of the struggle against apartheid rule in 1994.
Indeed, the concept post-conflict can be a misnomer for those
societies which continue to experience other forms of violence after
the end of open warfare or where violence has slowed down. As such,
the level of violence is not an adequate indicator that conflict has
ended. Although in these situations, overt violence is absent, it does
not necessarily mean that peace exists, and such a situation should be
best described as a ‘no war, no peace’ (Mac Ginty 2006) or ‘no peace,
no war’ (Richards 2005a) situation. The concept post-conflict can be
misleading since conflicts seldom end altogether as post-conflict situa-
tions remain tense for years or even decades and can easily return to
large-scale violent conflict, and as such, post-conflict should be under-
stood as ‘a shorthand for conflict situations, in which open warfare has
come to an end’ (Junne and Verkoren 2005: 1). Similarly, Finnstrom
and Atkinson (2008: 2) rightly state that a post-conflict situation ‘can
often be more violent than a conflict itself [ . . . ]. It is essential to
acknowledge that a peace agreement must be won over and over
again, on an everyday basis, in people’s everyday lives’. It is, thus,
crucial to understand the various uses of the concept post-conflict.
Call (2008a: 175) has identified three uses of the concept post-conflict:
(1) refers to the period when open warfare is said to have come to a virtual
end, either through a peace agreement or a military victory, as in Sierra

Leone after 2002, Angola after the death of Jonas Savimbi in 2002 and
Liberia after 2003; (2) refers to situation where a formal peace agreement
has been, even where violence that the peace agreement was intended to
end has not completely disappeared, rather this should be called a post-
accord situation, as in the DRC and northern Uganda; and (3) refers to
when one side in an armed conflict has been defeated militarily, but more
particularly the collapse of the regime in control of the army, for example,
the fall of the Taliban regime in Afghanistan in 2001, that of Saddam
Hussein in Iraq in 2003 and the collapse of Muammar Gaddafi’s govern-
ment in Libya in 2011. The last two conceptions of post-conflict have
undermined the usefulness of the concept (Call 2008a). For instance, in
the three countries – Iraq, Libya and Afghanistan – organized violence has
continued years after the fall of the target regimes, and for societies
experiencing this violence, the term ‘post-conflict’ is a misnomer in rela-
tion to their situation. As Call (2008a) rightly points out, the first under-
standing of the term ‘post-conflict’ tends to be more useful than the last
two, since in such a situation certain changes happen including, security
sector reform, the building of more effective state institutions, elections,
disarmament, demobilization and reintegration (DDR), reconciliation
and transitional justice initiatives, development programs, and the (re)
construction or building economic institutions.
This book uses the idea of post-conflict adopted from Lambach, in which
a conflict is considered to have ended when ‘violence is no longer explained
in terms of the dominant narrative of conflict’ (2007: 10). As Lambach
argues, viewing conflict and post-conflict situations as social constructs,
‘discursive delimitations of the kind of behavior that is to be expected and
allowed in a given set of circumstances’ implies that a narrative of peace is
put at the center of the definition of post-conflict (2007: 10).
POST-CONFLICT PEACEBUILDING
During the Cold War the UN did not give political currency to the concept
of peacebuilding. Its emphasis was more on preserving the territorial integ-
rity of conflicting states through monitoring ceasefire agreements, creating
buffer zones and peacekeeping, among others, partly as a result of conflict-
ridden power politics between the USA and USSR, and their allies during
the Cold War. The end of the Cold War coincided with an increase in
intrastate conflicts and civil wars that posed a serious new threat to
international peace and security as well as human welfare. At the same time,
it provided the UN and other international actors with an opportunity to be
involved in efforts aimed at ending such violent conflicts within states in
different parts of the developing world. It appeared peace could now be
enforced as the impediment (the Cold War) to its enforcement had ended.
Media images of untold suffering of civilians in states from Africa to the
Balkans to Central Asia experiencing violent intrastate conflict played a
crucial role helping such societies to receive high-level international atten-
tion. Since the conflicts posed serious threats to international peace and
security, it was vital for the UN Security Council to respond to them and
take the lead in dealing with them. The dramatic increase in UN peace
support operations in the immediate aftermath of the Cold War witnessed
the first African UN Secretary General, Boutros Boutros-Ghali of Egypt
establishing the UN Department of Peacekeeping Operations (DPKO) in
1992 with the role to adequately manage the peace support operations.
Although in 1965 the UN General Assembly founded the Special
Committee on Peacekeeping Operations, the establishment of the DPKO
saw the institutionalization of peacekeeping within the UN.
On 31 January 1992, the UN Security Council held a summit meeting
for the first time at the level of Heads of State and Government.
Concerned about the new threats to international peace and security
brought by the end of the Cold War, the Security Council included in
its agenda the need to address ‘the responsibility of the Security Council in
the maintenance of international peace and security’ (UN Security
Council 1992). The Security Council tasked Boutros-Ghali to prepare
an analysis and recommendations on how the UN could strengthen and
improve its capacity to maintain international peace and security in the
post-Cold War period. On 17 June 1992, Boutros-Ghali submitted to the
Security Council a report entitled, An Agenda for Peace: Preventive
Diplomacy, Peacemaking and Peacekeeping (hereafter, An Agenda for
Peace) in which he looked at the changing context of international rela-
tions and provided recommendations on how to improve the UN’s capa-
city to enhance international peace and security.
Although the term ‘peacebuilding’ is not recent, in his An Agenda for
Peace, Boutros-Ghali brought it to the UN agenda. The document had a
great influence on our understanding of the enterprise of peacebuilding
and as such, it is not surprising that it is often celebrated as a landmark
document in the development of contemporary peacebuilding. Boutros-
Ghali defined peacebuilding as ‘action to identify and support structures
which will tend to strengthen and solidify peace in order to avoid a relapse
into conflict’ (Boutros-Ghali 1992). Furthermore, he differentiated
between peacebuilding, preventive diplomacy, peacemaking and peace-
keeping suggesting ways in which the concepts can be effectively used.
Peacebuilding was associated with post-conflict activities that aimed at
consolidating peace. It included the following activities: ‘rebuilding
the institutions and infrastructures of nations torn by civil war and strife;
and building bonds of peaceful mutual benefit among nations formerly
at war’ as well as addressing ‘the deepest causes of conflict: economic
despair, social injustice, and political oppression’ (Boutros-Ghali 1992).
Peacebuilding would also encompass such activities as ‘disarming the
previously warring parties and the restoration of order, the custody and
possible destruction of weapons, repatriating refugees, advisory and train-
ing support for security personnel, monitoring elections, advancing efforts
to protect human rights, reforming or strengthening governmental insti-
tutions, and promoting formal and informal processes of political partici-
pation’ (Boutros-Ghali 1992). The concept peacebuilding has often been
associated with the multidimensional UN peace support operations in the
early to mid-1990s in countries including Mozambique, Somalia, Angola,
El Salvador, Cambodia, Namibia, the former Yugoslavia and Haiti.
In his Agenda for Development, Boutros-Ghali stresses the importance of
economic and social development as means to promoting lasting peace. In
the Supplement to an Agenda for Peace, Boutros-Ghali defines the essential
goal of peacebuilding as ‘the creation of structures for the institutionaliza-
tion of peace’ (Boutros-Ghali 1995). In this report, he asserts that addres-
sing the root causes of conflict is crucial for building lasting peace.
Peacebuilding would mean not only the elimination of armed conflict but
also addressing its root causes in order to promote the resolution of disputes
without resorting to violence. Boutros-Ghali saw a link between democracy,
development and peace since ‘democracy provides the long-term basis for
managing competing ethnic, religious, and cultural interests in a way that
minimizes the risk of violent conflict’ (1995).
However, with time, new challenges and complex realities on the
ground led to new understandings and development of the concept of
peacebuilding within the UN, academia, leading states, non-governmental
and bilateral organizations. As Call and Cousens rightly point out:
This was driven partly by growing awareness of the complexity of post-

conflict transitions and the multiple, simultaneous needs of post-conflict
societies, and partly by bureaucratic imperatives as more and more interna-

tional agency, parts of the UN system, and nongovernmental organizations
began to incorporate ‘peacebuilding’ into their roles and missions. (2008: 3)
The concept of peacebuilding became more expansive, thus rendering

it incoherent. Conflict prevention, conflict management and post-con-
flict reconstruction, among others, became part of the peacebuilding
agenda.
Kofi Annan who succeeded Boutros-Ghali as the UN Secretary-General
emphasized the need to promote democracy, development and human
security as conflict prevention measures. In addition, he noted the need to
strengthen democratic governance (Annan 1998). Annan (1998: 14)
identified the following as key components for promoting lasting peace:
‘good governance, respect for human rights and the rule of law, promot-
ing transparency and accountability in public administration, enhancing
administrative capacity and strengthening democratic governance’. He
also pointed out that other important activities included organizing elec-
tions and drafting constitutions. However, citing the case of Angola,
Annan (2001) noted the inadequacies of elections by themselves in resol-
ving conflicts, since elections can produce powerful incentives for political
or ethnic entrepreneurs to engage in conflict.
In 2000, the UN Secretary-General’s Millennium Report, We the
Peoples: The Role of the United Nations in the 21st Century (hereafter, We
the Peoples), based on the concerns of an upsurge in violent intrastate wars
in the 1990s that had claimed more than five million lives, proposed a
‘people-centred’ approach: ‘we must put people at the center of every-
thing we do. No calling is more noble and no responsibility greater, than
that of enabling men, women and children, in cities and villages around
the world, to make their lives better’ (Annan 2000: 7). The report further
noted that in the wake of brutal civil wars ‘a more human-centred
approach’ to security was emerging and unlike the security approach of
the Cold War era that was state-centered emphasizing the sovereignty and
territorial integrity of states, this new approach embraced ‘the protection
of communities and individuals from internal violence’ (Annan 2000: 43).
In addition, the report stated the need to develop conflict prevention
strategies that not only address the symptoms of violent conflicts but
also their sources. In this case, peacebuilding would mean activities
aimed at addressing the root causes of the conflict, not just ending overt
violence.
Following the UN Secretary-General’s Millennium Report, We the

Peoples, in August 2000, the Report of the Panel on UN Peace Operations
(the Brahimi report) used the term ‘peacebuilding’ to mean ‘activities
undertaken on the far side of the conflict to reassemble the foundations
of peace and provide the tools for building on those foundations some-
thing that is more than just the absence of war’ (Brahimi 2000: 3). The
report conceptualizes peacebuilding as not just ending armed conflict but
also as aimed at seeking to address its underlying causes. The report
further provides a wide range of peacebuilding activities designed to help
avoid a return to violent conflict, the promotion of peaceful co-existence
and non-violent means of resolving conflicts.
As the UN increasingly became involved in post-conflict peace support
operations, its operations began to display severe shortcomings including
the failure to stabilize societies emerging from violent conflict avoiding a
relapse into conflict which scholars such as Paris (2004) attributed to the
rapid introduction of political and economic liberalization in the absence of
strong, legitimate and effective state institutions. Moreover, the world faced
serious threats to international peace and security. In his address to the UN
General Assembly, Kofi Annan, in September 2003, called for a radical
reform at the UN and urged it to confront all these threats and challenges
including new forms of terrorism and the proliferation of weapons of mass
destruction. He further pointed out that the UN ‘must be fully engaged in
the struggle for development and poverty eradication, starting with the
achievement of the Millennium Development Goals; in the common strug-
gle to protect our common environment; and in the struggle for human
rights, democracy and good governance’ (Annan 2003). Furthermore,
he noted that he intended to establish a high-level panel of eminent
personalities – the High Level Panel on Threats, Challenges and Change –
to which he would assign four tasks: (1) ‘to examine the current challenges of
peace and security’; (2) ‘to consider the contribution which collective action
can make in addressing these challenges’; (3) ‘to review the functioning of
the major organs of the United Nations and the relationship between them’;
and (4) ‘to recommend ways of strengthening the United Nations, through
reform of its institutions and processes’ (Annan 2003). This panel would
focus primarily on threats related to peace and security, and it was established
in November 2003. In its December 2004 report, A More Secure World: Our
Shared responsibility, the High Level Panel on Threats, Challenges and
Change recommended the creation of two new bodies: (1) a United
Nations Peacebuilding Commission (UNPBC) to support countries in
their transition from war to peace, and help prevent states from collapsing
and assist states avoid a relapse into conflict; and (2) a Peacebuilding Support
Office to act as a secretariat of the UNPBC. Thus, it was proposed that the
UNPBC would focus on the prevention of conflict, and post-war recovery as
well as deal with the challenges of coordinating international peacebuilding
efforts. In this regard, the High Level Panel called on international financial
institutions, regional and sub-regional organizations, and the principal
donor countries to participate in the UNPBC’s deliberations, thus support-
ing its peacebuilding efforts.
In his report, In Larger Freedom: Toward Development, Security and
Human Rights for All (2005), the UN Secretary-General supported the
panel’s proposal to create a UNPBC. At the September 2005 UN World
Summit in New York, heads of state and government agreed to create the
UNPBC, and two bodies that would back it – a Peacebuilding Support
Office and a Peacebuilding Fund. Paragraph 97 of the 2005 World
Summit Outcome document states the following:
Emphasizing the need for a coordinated, coherent and integrated approach

to post-conflict peacebuilding and reconciliation with a view to achieving
sustainable peace, recognizing the need for a dedicated institutional
mechanism to address the special needs of countries emerging from conflict
toward recovery, reintegration and reconstruction and to assist them in
laying the foundation for sustainable development, and recognizing the
vital role of the United Nations in that regard, we decide to establish a
Peacebuilding Commission as an intergovernmental advisory body. (UN
General Assembly 2005)
The UN General Assembly resolution 60/80 and the Security Council

resolution 1645 (2005) of 20 December 2005 established the PBC, which
was mandated to bring together all the relevant actors to gather resources
to support states in their early recovery after conflict as well as provide
advice on integrated strategies to support peacebuilding efforts.
Furthermore, it would focus attention on reconstruction and institution-
building efforts crucial for recovery from conflict as well as support the
development of comprehensive strategies so as to lay the foundation for
sustainable development. There are six countries that are currently on the
PBC agenda – all of them are African countries: Sierra Leone, Burundi, the
Central African Republic, Guinea, Liberia and Guinea-Bissau. In these
countries, the PBC has largely engaged in peacebuilding efforts that
promote liberal market democracies, and has closely worked with neo-
liberal institutions such as the World Bank.
In the UN policy documents and the work of the PBC discussed above,
peacebuilding has come to mean a number of things: strengthening the
rule of law, enhancing development, promoting justice, building democ-
racies, ending overt violence, reconciliation and stability, among others,
aimed at strengthening and solidifying peace in order to avoid a relapse
into conflict. Despite the expansion and modification of the concept of
peacebuilding in these policy documents as well as an upsurge in peace-
building activities since the early 1990s, the concept of peacebuilding has
remained elusive and contested, among academics and policymakers.
While there have been disagreements on the role of external actors in
post-conflict societies, there tends to be a consensus on their significance
in supporting peacebuilding activities in such societies.
PEACEBUILDING DEBATES
Questions have been raised regarding the roles and responsibilities of
external actors in peacebuilding operations who often determine or have
significant influence on the final outcome of the peacebuilding process –
whether they should act as mere facilitators of peacebuilding processes or
use more intrusive approaches if this helps promote lasting peace or end
overt violence. While some scholars have put emphasis on minimalist
peacebuilding approaches aimed at ending overt violence, others have
argued for maximalist approaches that aim at addressing root causes of
conflict and structural violence, such as social injustice and poverty
(Newman 2009a). The narrow approach is security-oriented since it
emphasizes the prevention of a return to violent conflict with the aim of
promoting stability and order subordinating other values such as justice,
development, emancipation and empowerment to the preservation of
internal security, whereas, the maximalist approach is social-oriented
since it places emphasis on addressing underlying causes of conflict (see
Call 2008b). Many scholars and practitioners tend to advocate a narrow
definition of peacebuilding which states that its main objective should be
that of maintaining a ceasefire since for them it is more realistic and quite
feasible (Newman 2009a). For these proponents, peacebuilding should be
considered a success when a ceasefire is achieved and does not collapse.
Yet, a focus on maintaining a ceasefire may help in avoiding overt violence,
but does not address underlying causes of conflict with a likelihood of a
return to conflict if grievances or problems that led to the conflict in the

first place are not addressed. Those who advocate a broader approach to
peacebuilding argue that it is crucial to take into consideration a wide
range of peacebuilding initiatives, if peace is going to make sense to host
societies.
The broader approach includes various benchmarks including democ-
racy, respect for human rights, rule of law, eradicating poverty, social
justice, welfare, non-violent action, reconciliation, development, eliminat-
ing corruption and good governance. However, such an approach is said
to be ambitious even for the more developed societies that are considered
peaceful. Furthermore, it is criticized for being ‘too inclusive to be useful’,
although it helps us show the complex and integrated nature of peace-
building (Call 2008b: 6). In regard to measuring peacebuilding outcomes,
Call (2008b) contends that the broad approach to international peace-
building fails to distinguish between dismal failures such as Rwanda and
Angola and limited successes such as Mozambique and El Salvador where
peace has been consolidated, but the underlying causes of the armed
conflict have not been addressed. He thus proposes a standard of success
which
strikes a middle ground that includes the lack of recurrence of warfare as well
as some sustained, national mechanism for the resolution of conflict –
signified by participatory politics. Participatory politics does not equate to
liberal democracy, but refers to mechanisms for aggrieved social groups to
feel that they have both a voice and a stake in the national political system.
This standard is difficult to measure but excludes stable, authoritarian, and
clearly illegitimate governments. (Call 2008b: 6–7)
In this regard, questions whether there has been a return to violent

conflict or not and whether minimal political institutions that can help
resolve conflict in a non-violent way with citizens engaged in participatory
politics have been established are crucial in measuring success. Such an
approach does not emphasize the underlying causes of conflict including
horizontal inequalities, social injustice and unemployment, which Call
considers as ‘risk factors that shape outcomes, but not themselves indica-
tors of peacebuilding success or failure’ (2008a: 174). This standard does
not escape from the criticism that it is inadequate since participation in
politics will only be meaningful to most, if not all, poor people when their
basic needs are met. This explains why in much of Africa many people are
not keen on participating in politics and tend to be concerned about their

everyday survival. For such people peacebuilding is a success, if it meets
their everyday needs.
This book uses a broader definition of peacebuilding which does not
limit peacebuilding to activities aimed at preventing a return to conflict
but also includes social justice, welfare provision, reconciliation, equity
and humanistic agendas for peace rather than technocratic institutional
state-centric agendas for peace. Such an understanding of peacebuilding is
useful in dealing with the challenges that marginalized populations in
Africa have been experiencing since colonial rule. At the same time, this
does not imply that political participation and a prevention of a return to
conflict are not relevant and important but that these can still be dealt
within the above understanding of peacebuilding. Furthermore, the book
focuses on post-conflict peacebuilding, that is, peacebuilding activities that
are conducted after the end of a civil war or a violent conflict in a given
society so as to redress the causes of the conflict or to come up with
structures that help avert future violent conflicts.
INTERNATIONAL POST-CONFLICT STATEBUILDING INTERVENTIONS

Countries that are emerging or that have recently emerged from periods of
violent intrastate conflict face numerous challenges including reforming
the security sector, judiciaries, laws and constitutions, (re)building gov-
ernance institutions and the infrastructure destroyed during the war,
return of refugees and the internally displaced, transitional justice issues
and building a viable civil society and the economy. Furthermore, the
political situation in post-conflict states and societies is extremely volatile.
After the civil war, the previously warring internal parties continue to live
together in the same country and there is a risk of return to conflict, if one
party feels its needs have not been adequately met. One of the significant
findings of scholarly research is that it is more likely that countries that
have experienced intrastate conflict and violence will experience it in the
future. Rwanda, Angola, Burundi, the Central African Republic, Sierra
Leone, East Timor, Sri Linka, Liberia and South Sudan are some of the
examples of countries that have experienced recurring intrastate conflict,
in which violence broke out repeatedly over time. For instance, in 2013,
South Sudan returned to conflict barely three years after gaining indepen-
dence from Sudan. On 9 January 2005, a comprehensive peace agreement
was signed between the Islamic government of the Republic of the Sudan
and the Sudan People’s Liberation Movement/Sudan People’s Liberation

Army (SPLM/A). This was a historic moment for a country that had
experienced civil war for over two decades. The comprehensive peace
agreement (CPA) ended Sudan’s long and bloody civil war that started
in 1983, setting the stage for South Sudan’s independence and the estab-
lishment of sustainable peace in the country. On 9 July 2011, South Sudan
voted for independence from Sudan through a referendum, marking a
crucial stage in the implementation of the CPA. However, barely three
years after Sudan gained independence, a political power struggle within
the SPLM involving South Sudanese President Salva Kiir and former Vice
President Riek Machar led to an outbreak of violence on the 16th of
December 2013, which had serious economic, social and political con-
sequences for the majority of South Sudan population. The resulting
conflict sparked ethnic violence between the Dinka and Neur in which
tit-for-tat atrocities have been committed. In January 2016, the United
Nations Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA)
reported that humanitarian needs existed across South Sudan due to
various and interlocking threats, including intercommunal violence and
the armed violence, climatic shock, disease and economic crisis. More than
2.3 million people were reported to have fled their homes since the
conflict started – an estimated 1.6 million people were said to be internally
displaced, an estimated 644,900 people had sought refuge in neighboring
countries, 3.9 million people (approximately a third of the population)
had become severely food insecure (OCHA 2016). Furthermore, since the
start of the conflict, tens of thousands of people have been killed and the
conflict has further weakened South Sudan’s fragile state institutions.
Under pressure from the UN, the USA and other powers, the warring
parties, signed a fragile peace agreement on 17 August 2015, which called
for a transitional government of national unity. Despite this, violent con-
flict continued in some parts of the country. In February 2016, President
Kiir re-appointed Machar as his vice president, who two months later he
swore as South Sudanese vice president ahead of the formation of the
transitional government of national unity.
In the case of Liberia, the Liberian civil war was among the first deadly
conflicts that erupted in West Africa in the immediate aftermath of the
Cold War. In December 1989, Charles Taylor and his National Patriotic
Front of Liberia (NPFL) invaded Liberia from Côte d’Ivoire. Taylor
wanted to remove the government of President Samuel Doe from power
which he accused of tribalism, corruption, fraud and the use of brutality
against opposition parties. Brutality, violence, mass killings, tribalism,

rampant destruction of property and gross human rights violations char-
acterized the conflict. Many civilians were displaced with hundreds of
thousands fleeing to neighboring countries of Sierra Leone, Cote
d’Ivoire and Guinea. The conflict also spilled over into neighboring
Sierra Leone in 1991. In the seven years of the Liberian conflict, the
West African sub-regional organization, the Economic Community of
West Africa’s (ECOWAS) mediation efforts led to the signing of 16
peace and ceasefire agreements. However, all but the Abuja II Accord of
August 1996 failed since the warring parties negotiated in bad faith. The
Abuja II Accord led to general elections in 1997 which saw Taylor being
elected president of the country, thus achieving an apparent peace in
Liberia. In response to this, the sub-regional organization’s peacekeeping
force, the Economic Community of West African States Military Observer
Group (ECOMOG) ended its mission in the country. The peace did not
last long as in April 1999 a second civil war broke out when a rebel group,
Liberians United for Reconciliation and Democracy (LURD), with the
support of Guinea, emerged in the north of the country seeking to remove
the regime of Taylor accusing it of being despotic and corrupt. A durable
and sustainable peace could not be established in Liberia. As Paris (2004)
observes, the durability of peace appears to be secure in situations such as
Namibia where external parties instigated and sustained the war and with-
drew from the country when the war came to an end. When external
parties withdrew from Namibia, according to Paris, ‘there was little
“demand” for continued fighting’ (2004: 135).
With a number of post-war situations relapsing into conflict within the
first five years of signing of a peace agreement, the late 1990s saw inter-
national interventions in many states and societies emerging from war and
violent conflict emphasizing the creation of effective and legitimate central
political institutions and the strengthening or reforming of existing ones –
what has become known as statebuilding. Lakhdar Brahimi, the former
Special Adviser of the Secretary-General of the UN, has argued that
statebuilding in post-conflict situations involves transforming such states,
‘not restoring them as they were’ (2007: 5). Statebuilding has become an
important tool to manage conflict and promote development in fragile
states emerging from violent conflict. Indeed, the state, its capacity and
institutions have increasingly been put at the center of international post-
conflict interventions. Brahimi is of the view that statebuilding is ‘the
central objective of any peace operation’ (2007: 4). For him, in the
absence of ‘functioning and self-sustaining government systems, peace and

development will be, at best, short-lived, and the disengagement of the
international community will take place in less than ideal conditions’
(Brahimi 2007: 2). For analysts such as Paris and Sisk (2009), for durable
peace to be achieved, it is crucial to bring statebuilding into peacebuilding
and consider statebuilding a sub-component of peacebuilding, which is
premised on the recognition that the existence of legitimate, strong,
effective and autonomous institutions of governance is crucial to achieving
security and development in states emerging from civil conflict. In the late
1990s, a growing recognition that ‘quick fix’ approaches to peacebuilding
could not create conditions for lasting peace led to a shift in international
peacebuilding policy as international actors increasingly began to empha-
size building the capacity of post-war states.
Moreover, the 9/11, 2001 terrorist attacks (which were linked to
Afghanistan) on the USA led to international concerns about weak states
as transnational terrorism was linked to state ‘fragility’, ‘failed’ and ‘weak’
statehood. The 2002 US National Security Strategy (US NSS) focused on
failed states: ‘America is now threatened less by conquering states than we
are by failing ones’ (White House 2002). The National Security Strategy
further declared: ‘The events of September 11, 2001 taught us that weak
states, like Afghanistan, can pose as great a danger to our national interests
as strong states’ (White House 2002). The case of Afghanistan led to the
realization among the international community that weak states were a
serious threat not only to development and the well-being of their citizens
but also to international peace and security. There was an urgent need to
deal with weak statehood. As such, it is not surprising that weak, failed and
fragile states have moved from the fringe of international security concerns
to being placed higher on the international agenda.
International peacebuilding programs have increasingly emphasized
governance and the reconstruction of the state. A number of scholars
and international organizations have also noted the significance of the
state, power, functions and its institutions in dealing with failed, ‘fragile’
and weak statehood (Paris 2004; Paris and Sisk 2009; Fukuyama 2004;
OECD 2007). Leading commentators such as Fukuyama have argued that
statebuilding is one of the most crucial issues for the global community
since ‘weak or failed states are the source of many of the world’s serious
problems’, including terrorism and poverty (2004: 1). Weak or failed
states are viewed not only as threats to domestic and global stability
but also as impediments to development and a threat to the security and
well-being of their own populations. Some of the weak states have lost
their monopoly over the use of violence to warlords, militia groups and
terrorists.2 Recent events in the Middle East and North Africa have shown
that the seemingly strong states such as Syria, Iraq and Libya are capable of
failing in situations of violent internal conflict. In all the three states
various armed groups (including external non-state actors) are competing
and fighting for the control of the state. As states are consumed by internal
violence, they cease providing basic services and security, especially human
security to their citizens. Such states cannot control their territories and
are characterized by a lack of respect for the rule of law, human rights
abuses, weak institutions, destroyed infrastructure, political instability,
humanitarian emergencies, criminal gangs, arms and drug trafficking and
a loss of domestic legitimacy (Fukuyama 2004; Rotberg 2004) with
extreme and stubborn forms of poverty persisting in such countries
(Collier 2007).
In response to the challenges posed by fragile and weak states, interna-
tional organizations such as the UN and its agencies including UNDP
have established programs and initiatives to create functioning and legit-
imate state institutions thought to be essential for achieving durable peace.
Post-9/11 saw UN-led peacebuilding missions being deployed for longer
periods in situations such as Sierra Leone and Liberia as long-term com-
mitment was essential in dealing with the challenges that these post-war
situations experienced. In 2008 the UNDP launched the ‘Statebuilding
for Peace’ project to empower ‘national and local actors to develop and
implement strategies that address fragilities and enhance responsiveness
and resilience of states for sustainable peace’ (UNDP 2009a: 5).The
Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD) in
its Principles for Good International Engagement in Fragile States and
Situations considers a focus on statebuilding as the main objective in
enhancing state stability and order (2007). The World Bank’s World
Development Report 2011 states its central message as ‘strengthening
legitimate institutions and governance to provide citizen security, justice
and jobs is crucial to breaking cycles of violence’ (2011: 2).
Moreover, since early 2013, the EU has been using State Building
Contracts (SBCs) to provide budget support to conflict affected states as
well as fragile states. It has signed SBCs with African countries including
South Sudan, Mauritania, Liberia and Mali. In South Sudan, the SBC was
never implemented since the country relapsed into internal conflict in 2013.
In May 2015, the EU signed a SBC contract worth €50.8 million with the
government of Liberia to support justice and security services in the context

of future withdrawal of the United Nations Mission in Liberia and its
decentralization program, as well as to support its health services after the
Ebola crisis. Furthermore, in July 2015, the EU Commission approved the
disbursement of €29.2 million of direct budget support aimed at helping
Liberia with its recovery programs. As the EU Commission states:
The Action entitled ‘State Building Contract Liberia’ is a budget support

operation and aims at improving economic governance, financial capability
of government to ensure macroeconomic stability, especially in 2015 in the
context of the Ebola crisis and improve efficiency and accountability in the
provision of vital state functions and services notably in the area of justice
and security. (2015: 2)
In the case of Mali, on 15 May 2013, an international donor conference –

‘Together for a New Mali’ – to support the development of Mali in the
period 2013–2014 was held at the European Commission headquarters in
Brussels which was co-chaired by France and the European Union. Mali
faced a crisis of social and economic development, and security. In March
2012, a violent conflict erupted in the north of the country pitting the
Malian army against several rebel groups fighting for more autonomy or
independence for the north. In addition, a military coup in March 2012
resulted in a constitutional crisis and a divided military in the country. In
April 2012, under international pressure, the junta handed back political
power to civilian interim government. Upon the request of the Mali
government, in January 2013, France intervened militarily and with the
support of the African-led International Support Mission in Mali
(AFISMA) forces, Malian army and some Western countries ended the
rebellion in the north. The conflict had been put higher on international
political agenda, and the ‘Together for a New Mali’ conference was one of
the international efforts at finding a long-term solution to Mali’s security,
economic and development crisis. At the conference, 56 multilateral and
bilateral organizations pledged €3.285 billion in aid to Mali with the EU
pledging €1.35 billion. In May 2013, the government of Mali and the EU
signed an SBC worth €225 million to help Mali to implement the road
map for transition and its 2013–2014 Plan for the Sustainable Recovery, as
well as supporting the country’s efforts to reduce poverty, strengthen
governance and promote sustainable and inclusive growth. Furthermore,
the budget support for Mali would enable the Malian state to ensure the
provision of basic services (water and health) to citizens and restore the
rule of law for the entire population. The specific objectives of the SBC for
Mali are to:
1. increase the government’s financial capacity to strengthen macro-

economic stability and its capacity for development action;
2. improve governance, in particular the management of public
finances, including budget monitoring and transparency;
3. support the Malian government through the process of transition
and national reconciliation;
4. support the government’s efforts to carry out its basic functions
across the whole country, in particular to provide basic services
(water and health) and relaunch the economy through job creation
(EU Commission 2013).
While the EU and other international agencies and leading states that
promote statebuilding have viewed statebuilding as the surest means to
bring out of turmoil states such as Mali, like most war-torn societies, the
impact of external statebuilding and assistance on Mali is uncertain.
APPROACHES TO STATEBUILDING
There are two different approaches to the state: the institutional approach3
and the ‘legitimacy’ approach (Call 2008b; Lemay-Hebert 2009). An
institutional approach to statebuilding focuses on building effective state
institutions in post-conflict environments as a remedy for the ‘weirdness’
or ‘abnormality’ found in weak and failed states that is absent in strong
states. This approach largely draws from the Weberian notion of statehood
which views a state as a political entity that has monopoly over the
legitimate use of violence. Since the institutional approach places emphasis
on building the capacity of state institutions, it tends to ignore customary
institutions (Call 2008b). In addition to service delivery, another impor-
tant element of the state, according to the institutional approach, is the
state’s capacity to institutionalize its diverse organizations. Call (2008b: 8)
defines institutionalization as ‘the process by which a cluster of activities
acquires a persistent set of rules that constrain activity, shape expectations,
and prescribe roles for actors’. Institutionalization is believed to enhance
the durability of the state and its institutions, and even the death of a
leader would not result in the collapse of the state. However, Call (2008b)
has criticized the predominant approaches to peacebuilding for ignoring

institutionalization of state agencies since, for him, these agencies are
usually not functioning well and can be an impediment to the peace-
building process. Instead, international actors often end up devising
their strategies around influential leaders. However, this approach is inade-
quate and can have negative outcomes in relation to building durable
institutions.
The ‘legitimacy’ approach finds the institutional approach’s focus on
institutions insufficient, thus argues for the need to also focus on ‘socio-
political cohesion and the legitimacy central authorities can generate’
(Lemay-Hebert 2009: 22). As such, issues of legitimacy are considered of
paramount importance when building states. This also relates to issues of
nation-building, that is, issues relating to socio-political cohesion and how
external actors shape conditions under which social integration is enhanced in
post-conflict states.4 However, this idea of external actors being involved in
building ‘nations’ contradicts the empirical and theoretical understandings of
the nature of a nation and nation-formation (Newman 2009a). As Newman
has argued, the ‘idea of international nation-building seems a contradiction in
terms, and nation-building as peacebuilding seems like a historical aberration’
since historically, nation-building was an outcome of widespread violence
(2009a: 30). As such, an emphasis on state legitimacy makes sense since the
state needs to be acceptable to its citizens for them to be able to rally behind
its authority, thus enhancing stability and order in it. Nation-building should
evolve organically and not imposed from outside. Cramer (2006) has argued
that ‘civil war is not a stupid thing’, that is, civil wars can also have progressive
consequences including nation- and statebuilding.
Literature on state formation in Africa and Europe shows that the process
of state formation in pre-colonial Africa has been quite different to that of
Europe. In Europe, state formation and consolidation resulted in fixed
boundaries and governments that had overall political authority over their
territories with war playing a significant role in the maintenance or expan-
sion of territory (Herbst 1990; Huntington 1968; Thomson 2000; Tilly
1975). As Tilly (1975: 42) argues, ‘War made the state, and the state made
war’, and together they produced nationalism. Similarly, Huntington
(1968: 123) puts it: ‘War was the great stimulus to state building’ and
this arose as a result of two things: the need for security and an interest in
expansion. War-making and empire building were crucial mechanisms for
state formation in Europe. The literature on state formation in Europe
shows that three of the positive outcomes of war on state consolidation in
Europe are: efficiency in revenue collection, an improvement in the leaders’

administrative capabilities and the growth of nationalism (Herbst 1990).
In terms of conceptual viability, statebuilding is more conceptually
viable than nation-building given its focus on meanings that are more
objective such as the (re)building of government institutions and the
provision of positive political goods (Newman 2009a), such as health,
law and order, education and security. The assumption behind statebuild-
ing as peacebuilding is that once strong and legitimate state institutions
are built, then societies emerging from violent civil war are freed from the
troubles of weak statehood. It is assumed that this will enable positive
political goods necessary for promoting internal order and stability as well
as international peace and security.5
DOES ONE SIZE FIT ALL?

It is crucial to note that state formation and consolidation in the West took
several centuries according to the socio-political, economic and historical
circumstances of the region. In the past two decades, states and institu-
tions that the international actors have been establishing in post-conflict
environments resemble liberal Western states, an approach that largely
overlooks local contextual matters. Western states are based on liberal
values – support for individual liberties, a free market economy, a state
with limited power, a viable civil society and a separation of state and
church, among others – and such values are not universal, thus not
acceptable to all contexts as legitimate. It is not surprising that some critics
have viewed the statebuilding aspect of peacebuilding as ‘a thinly disguised
attempt to modernise and thus “civilise” dysfunctional “third world”
countries that are incapable of developing viable indigenous forms of
cohesion’ (Newman 2009a: 30).
The success story of Asian developmental states such as Korea and
Singapore, which pursued authoritarian developmentalism, has raised ques-
tions about whether other forms of statebuilding, for instance, strong or
authoritarian states, are not, in the long run, more successful in establishing
welfare, security, stability and wealth for the citizens (Goetze and Guzina
2008). Moreover, peacebuilding is focused more on what peace means
qualitatively and it does not have to be necessarily connected to the state.
How it has been connected to the state is through liberal peacebuilding
which has emphasized building liberal states. In this sense, contemporary
statebuilding in post-conflict societies is a positivist instrumentalist Western
Westphalian project which focuses on building states in order to build

peace. It is no surprise that international statebuilding in post-conflict
societies is fraught with tensions and contradictions (Paris and Sisk 2009).
PEACEBUILDING AS LIBERAL PEACE

Contemporary post-conflict peacebuilding operations assume a different
approach to managing conflicts, and international order and stability,
which according to Newman, Paris and Richmond (2009) is perhaps a
reflection that a liberal post-Westphalian world order is being constructed.
This can be viewed as a challenge to the Westphalian notions of the
sovereignty of states as understood in the conceptualization of ‘sover-
eignty as responsibility’ (International Commission on Intervention and
State Sovereignty 2001; Deng et al. 1996). International peacebuilders’
emphasis on creating liberal market democracies in states emerging from
violent conflict has led a number of scholars to conclude that in the post-
Cold War era international peacebuilding reflects a liberal agenda (Paris
2004; Duffield 2001; Richmond 2005; Mac Ginty 2006; Richmond and
Franks 2009; Joshi et al. 2014). The dominant form of contemporary
peacebuilding that places emphasis on promoting liberal values, such as
the protection of individual rights, rule of law, a free market economy,
democracy as well as building a liberal state in war-torn societies, is called
liberal peacebuilding. The theoretical foundation for liberal peacebuilding
is the liberal peace. Liberal peacebuilding has sometimes been confused
with statebuilding; however, the two are different. Moreover, liberal
peacebuilding and peacebuilding are not the same, though sometimes
the two concepts have been used interchangeably. Liberal peacebuilding
focuses on building a liberal state, democratization, a free market econ-
omy, individual rights and the rule of law, whereas peacebuilding places
emphasis on issues such as social justice, welfare provision, tradition,
custom, culture, the grassroots, reconciliation, equity and humanistic
agendas for peace rather technocratic institutional state-centric agendas
for peace.
LIBERAL PEACE AND DEMOCRATIC PEACE THESIS

Nearly everyone yearns or supports peace with many commentators
‘invoking and prescribing peace’ and yet, as Richmond contends, peace
has ‘rarely been addressed in detail as a concept’ with its theorization
‘normally hidden away in debates about responding to war and conflict’

(2005: 2; also see Mac Ginty 2006; Gregor 1996).6 While war is described
as real, peace is described as an ideal, ‘a chimera, receding over the horizon
just as we get closer’ (Gregor 1996: x). Hence, more attention has been
given to war and ‘negative peace’ in IR that understands peace as absence
of overt violence within or between states as opposed to positive peace,
which is present where structural forms of violence, such as poverty and
social injustice, have been eliminated (Galtung 1969, 1985). Negative
peace is the kind of peace which the ‘law and order-oriented’ person
envisages and it ‘leads to stability thinking’ (Schmid 1968: 223). As
Galtung (1967) rightly points out, peace research that is defined solely
in terms of negative peace has a danger that it will ‘easily be research into
the conditions of maintaining power, freezing the status quo, of manip-
ulating the underdog so that he does not take up arms against the topdog’
(cited in Schmid 1968: 223). Galtung further states that such concept of
peace will be in ‘the interest of the status quo-powers at the national or
international levels, and may equally be a conservative force in politics’
(cited in Schmid 1968: 223). Moreover, those who advocate negative
peace tend to emphasize states, and their institutions and functions, as
well as want to maintain the status quo as a means to maintain order and
stability in post-conflict environments. This renders much of the popula-
tion invisible as well as overlooks the important role and agency of the
grassroots in the construction and sustainability of peace.
Consequently, this tends to promote the interests and needs of the
most powerful and not those of the marginalized, the poor or the less
powerful. This results in a failure to come up with strategies that also seek
to empathize with the less powerful, reduce the inequities in power that
can lead to structural violence or violent conflict, bring culture, custom,
tradition and make considerations of the everyday needs of most of the
population in war-shattered states in the peace debate. For those inter-
ested in multiple conceptualizations of peace and emancipatory forms of
peace questions such as who owns the peace, who creates it, who are the
winners and whose interests are being served become pertinent. The
dominant form of peace – the liberal peace – that international actors
construct in post-conflict environments is a result of a limited conceptua-
lization of peace as absence of overt violence.
The liberal peace framework is understood in relation to the democratic
peace thesis – the liberal idea that democracies do not (or rarely) engage in
war against each other. The democratic peace thesis attempts to answer
questions about how to avert war and to establish peaceful relations

between states. Liberal states such as the USA tend to use it in their
international relations. A significant body of literature in IR has focused
on the implications of democracy and markets on interstate relations. This
literature has examined whether democratic states are more peaceful in
their foreign relations and have attempted to provide the theoretical and
empirical explanation for this. Proponents of the democratic peace thesis
have concluded that democratic states rarely fight against each other, that
such states tend to be more open to international trade than illiberal ones
creating interdependencies that preclude the outbreak of war between
them – in this case, peace is expressed via trade since liberal states that
are economically interdependent tend to relate with each other peacefully
(Doyle 1986; Oneal et al. 1996). Doyle (1986: 1152) asserts that, liberal
states have formed a ‘separate peace’, but are also war-prone or aggressive
toward non-liberal states and ‘have also discovered liberal reasons for
aggression’. Proponents of the democratic peace thesis argue that global
peace and security can be achieved only when states are liberal democra-
cies. However, there is a risk that the democratic peace argument may
create an incentive for violence or coercion to promote democracy in non-
liberal states, and it also tends to downplay subjective issues such as culture
and identity and its acceptance of neoliberalism (Richmond 2008).
LIBERALISM
International organizations, powerful states and international financial orga-
nizations have used the liberal rhetoric to justify international peace support
operations, and peacebuilding and statebuilding programs in societies emer-
ging from civil war. It is thus crucial to briefly discuss the notion of liberal-
ism bearing in mind that there is no consensus on the exact meaning of the
concept. A number of scholars have provided an understanding of the
concept based on themes that frequently recur in orthodox discussions of
the concept. These themes, as Mac Ginty states, include
the recognition of the individual as the basis of society; notions of tolerance

and equality of opportunity; the promotion of freedoms that are believed to
be universal; a belief in the reformability of individuals and institutions; the
rationality of individuals and collectives, and the defence of property and
freedom of markets. (Mac Ginty 2012: 170, 2011: 26; also see; Doyle 1986:
115; Joshi et al. 2014)
Other scholars have offered a broad definition of liberalism. For instance,

Friedman, Oskanian and Pardo note that in its broadest sense, liberalism
can be understood as ‘Western paradigm of thought that posits the self-
interested individual as the normative standard of political and economic
activity [ . . . ]’ (2013: 1). Liberals (in various ways) place high value on
individual rights and freedoms including the right to private property,
freedom of association, sexual choice and speech, and freedom of religious
belief and practice. As Waldon points out,
Liberals are committed to a conception of freedom and of respect for the

capacities and the agency of individual men and women, and that these
commitments generate a requirement that all aspects of the social should
either be made acceptable or be capable of being acceptable to every last
individual. (1987: 128)
In contrast, Dworkin (2002: 128) has argued that liberals are committed
fundamentally to a particular conception of equality that supposes that
‘government must act to make the lives of those it governs better lives, and
it must show equal concern for the life of each’. Here we see two conflict-
ing views about liberalism, one emphasizing a certain conception of
equality, and the other liberty. As such, it is difficult to define liberalism
via its concepts (Williams 2009).
Although liberalism has been primarily a product of Western historical
experiences, its proponents assume that it is suitable in any context. This
argument for the universality of liberalism and the legitimacy that the
democratic peace theory has given to liberal democracy has led Western
policymakers to export liberal democracy to illiberal states using the
rhetoric of emancipating ‘those “vanquished” by illiberal regimes’
(Williams 2006: 1) so as to enable them to join the liberal international
order of democratic states. The ‘vanquished’ in the context of interna-
tional peacebuilding are those people who live in societies emerging from
violent internal conflicts experiencing what Mitt Romney, the Republican
presidential nominee for the US 2012 presidential elections, called during
his presidential campaign ‘unspeakable darkness’. Drawing on the demo-
cratic peace thesis, Romney pointed out that in order to ‘save’ the world
from such ‘unspeakable darkness’, the USA needed to return to its ‘demo-
cratic ideals because a free world is a more peaceful world’.
Williams (2006: 2) contends that ‘liberal thinkers and latterly states
have increasingly come to believe that they can bring about an “end” to
war by spreading of liberal ideas and practices to those countries that do

not yet recognize them as a blue print for thought and action in interna-
tional and domestic politics’. As noted earlier, civil wars have been largely
attributed to illiberal regimes, weak states and state failure and as such,
international peace operations in post-conflict situations have emphasized
the creation of domestic and political orders with liberal characteristics
aimed at eliminating sources of war and political instability. This is done in
order to prevent the re-occurrence of violent conflict within these states,
thus ensuring that conditions for durable domestic peace are created and
also that such states do not pose a threat to international peace and
security. As such, international peacebuilding initiatives which focus on
spreading political and economic liberalism have been legitimized through
the application of the democratic peace thesis.
The agents of the state, the state and the building of its institutions are
central to liberal peacebuilding. This is because liberal internationalists
require the state and state elites as main means to introduce the idea of the
liberal peace in societies emerging from violent conflict. Proponents of the
liberal peace model have exported it wholesale from the West to societies
emerging from internal violent conflict with the expectation that such
societies would accept it as it is. Drawing on David Williams and Tom
Young’s conceptualization of liberalism as a ‘project’ in Africa, this book
argues that the liberal peace should be understood as a project in post-war
societies such as Sierra Leone, Liberia and Mozambique.
LIBERALISM AS A PROJECT
Drawing on Margaret Canovan’s (1990) argument that liberalism is ‘a
project to be realized’, Williams and Young have argued that the broad
reform project of Western states and development agencies aimed at
reforming most African states can be conceived as a liberal project. In
this sense, liberalism is not just a body of theorizing but also a political
project of social transformation (Williams and Young 2012; Williams
2009, 2010; Young 2002, 2003) – a project of transforming troubled
African societies into ‘liberal’ societies. This liberal project reflects liberal
ways of thinking about the state and its relationship with society and
economy. As has been mentioned, liberalism places high value on auton-
omous individuals and such individuals are capable of making rational
decisions that are not a threat to others, at the same time, their decisions
can still allow them to pursue their own interests in an efficient manner.
Liberalism’s deepest desires, as Young notes, ‘require that all societies

really consist of free reasoning individuals engaging in projects the value of
which only they can judge. Once these individuals are “liberated” from
“oppression” all that remains is to ensure that they cooperate to mutual
advantage’ (2002: 176, emphasis not mine). The state and civil society are
regarded as crucial institutions for achieving this purpose.
CIVIL SOCIETY
Civil society is a widely used and discussed concept within contemporary
social science and policy circles. Despite this, no precise definition of the
concept exists. It is generally understood as a sphere of voluntary
(uncoerced) action around shared values, interests and purposes
(Pouligny 2005). As Williams and Young (2012: 8) write, the traditional
liberal story offers three crucial elements of civil society: (1) it is an
example of liberal commitments to equality and freedom and in this
arena individuals have the freedom to pursue their own interests in free
association with others; (2) as an arena for criticism, open and free debate,
it acts as a check and balance on the power of the state. Given the state’s
(and its agents) ability to undermine freedom, it is crucial that it is limited
and hold to account, civil society does play this role; (3) it is an arena for
the cultivation of particular attitudes and personal virtues such as civic
engagement, accountability, tolerance, self-reliance and cooperation, cru-
cial for sustaining liberal social life. Williams and Young, further assert:
These understandings shape the familiar liberal account of the relations

between state, society and individual in which individuals are free to pursue
their economic and political aspirations and enabled to cultivate the virtues
that make the society work, as well as ensure that the state, while carry-out
necessary public functions, does not become oppressive or its agents cor-
rupt. (2012: 8)
However, there are tensions and contradictions in liberal concepts of civil

society. These tensions and contradictions cluster around three interrelated
areas (Williams 2010). The first set of ambiguities relate to the tension that
exists between civil society as an arena of private interests and as representa-
tive and protector of public interests. Civil society is regarded as an arena of
private interests in the sense that groups, networks, organizations, associa-
tions and so on seek to advance their common interests which can be
economic, social or political. These civil society groups employ various

strategies including protests and campaigning using the public sphere to
advance their own interests. Civil society is also depicted as a defender of the
public interest via criticism of the state, and open and free debate (Williams
2010). This appears that it would require civil society actors to prioritize the
common good and public interests of the larger polity over their particular
personal interests.
The second set of ambiguities relate to the question of groups which
constitute civil society. Questions have been raised whether groups that are
based on affective ties, for instance, religious, ethnic, tribal and cultural
groups, which do not necessarily promote liberal values, should be consid-
ered as part of civil society (Williams 2009). Richmond (2011b: 28) has
argued that in the context of post-conflict states, civil society has been
externalized and has depended much on international donors’ rather inade-
quate support, in practice, it has ‘often become and engineered artifice that
floats above and substitute for the “local” and for the context’. International
donors have tended to marginalize or exclude local groups based on affective
ties such as ethnic development associations whose organizational forms
mirror local customary and cultural practices. In this sense, international
donors have encouraged and supported the development of modern non-
affective groups considered to be essential for promoting public interests and
for holding the state and its agents to account. Western donors have tended
to pay some attention to indigenous organizations only when this suits their
liberal agendas or is conducive to the process of building a liberal state and
society. As Williams and Young write:
The commitment to ‘civil society’ is genuine but is hedged around by other

commitments, to certain kinds of market arrangements or individual rights
for example, which suggest that what is being advocated or defended is a
particular kind of associational life relating in particular kinds of ways to the
state. It also suggest that ‘civil society’ is itself at least in part a constructed
realm as certain kinds of associational life are to be reworked or even
eliminated, and other forms encouraged. (2012: 9)
The third issue relates to the question of the exact kinds of public interest
that civil society should shape or influence: to what extent can civil society
be relied upon to support a liberal order or to what extent should liberals
seek other guarantees, for instance, the state, that lie outside of the domain
of civil society? (Williams 2010; Williams and Young 2012). These
dilemmas are evidence of the concept of liberalism as a project of social

transformation (Williams 2010). Leading Western states including the USA
and the UK and development agencies such as World Bank and the IMF
which have sought to mold state institutions and social relations in Africa in
the image of the liberal West via the liberal project have reproduced these
tensions inherent in liberal thought.
THE STATE
Liberals fear that the state can abuse the power it possesses. That is, there are
fears and concerns, for example, that state power can be used for repression,
inhibiting individuals’ freedom to pursue their own interests. Yet, as
Williams (2010) contends, in almost all liberal thought, the state continues
to be the primary vehicle for achieving liberal goals and practices. Within the
Western liberal theory, the state is considered as both weak and strong.
Some liberal theorists have tended to link liberalism with neutrality. For
such theorists, the principle of neutrality is said to be a central element of
liberal political theory that provides an understanding of liberalism as well as
distinguish it from other political theories (Alexander and Schwarzschild
1987). A neutral state is conceived of as weak. In this sense, the state is
envisaged as ‘purely an enabler, little more than a neutral mechanism
providing the security to allow free, equal individuals to pursue their life
projects unhindered by others’ (Young 2003: 3). Since in a society indivi-
duals hold varying conceptions of the good and as a ‘neutral mechanism’,
the state (and its laws) must not limit the freedom of individuals in ways that
favor one particular notion of the good.
As such, a strong state is conceived of as a potential threat to
individual rights and freedoms. Threats to individual freedoms are
said to be twofold: (1) there is the possibility that state agents may
abuse institutions of the state and the stronger the state, the higher the
likelihood of abuse; and (2) the state may attempt to advance a certain
kind of social order without the consent of citizens, which might
represent some values that undermine individuals’ rights and freedoms
(Young 2003; Williams 2010). It is argued that such threats can be
countered by establishing some measure of restraint on the state’s
exercise of power and a limit to its scope. This happens via institutional
strategies viewed as mechanisms to establish limits on arbitrary state
power, thus mitigating the fears of abuse of state power and ensuring
that the state does not undermine individual freedoms. Historically,
within the liberal tradition, this has taken the form of ‘a universal legal
code to which state officials are also subject, and [ . . . ] a complex of
institutions now generally referred to as liberal democracy and compris-
ing universal suffrage, political parties, rights of political participation
and so on’ (Young 2003: 3). At the same time, liberals have argued for
a strong state which is not captured by social forces. Such a strong state
ought to a certain extent be detached from social interests as well as
not overcome by them. It must be a capable state, that is, it must be in
a position to impose and maintain a certain kind of domestic order – a
liberal democratic order – ensuring that it inculcates certain kind of
values and depositions in people. This requires a strong, responsive and
effective state that is capable of establishing and defending liberal
values, institutions and policies (Young 2003: 3–4).
As Williams (2010) and Young (2003: 4) argue, these tensions and
contradictions regarding the state – ‘accountable but captured, autono-
mous but not oppressive, neutral but interventionist’ – cannot be resolved
on a purely theoretical level, rather, ‘they can only be made sense of as a
project, a project the nature of which is sharply illuminated by the debate
about Africa because liberal capitalism is not yet hegemonic there and the
processes by which such hegemony is constructed cannot be easily
obscured as in the West’ (also see Taylor 2007). Western states and
development agencies have reproduced these ambiguities in their peace-
building and development projects in Africa. Williams and Young’s work is
crucial in helping us understand international peacebuilding as a ‘liberal
peace project’ of social transformation in post-conflict situations. The
liberal peace project is aimed at transforming fragile post-conflict states
into peaceful and stable liberal entities (as will be shown in this book, in
the context of Sierra Leone) via a set of policies and programs that
promote the rule of law, democratization, individual human rights, good
governance, fighting corruption, market-based economic reform, devel-
opment, a vibrant civil society, and a stable and secure liberal state. The
two main goals of these initiatives are to prevent a return to conflict and
the creation of conditions for building sustainable peace in the country.
It is crucial to point out that the view that international peacebuilding is
liberal peace-oriented is controversial. More recently, some studies have ques-
tioned whether international peacebuilding interventions are essentially liberal
or liberal peace-oriented (see for example, Zaum 2012; Selby 2013). The
notion of liberal peacebuilding has been portrayed as ‘a fallacy and a myth’
(Selby 2013: 58), and that it must therefore be abandoned as the ‘breadth of
the concept and the wide variety of interventions that it encompasses suggest
that it does not offer a useful analytical lens for understanding contemporary
peacebuilding efforts’ (Zaum 2012: 130). Selby contends that ‘states, strategy
and geopolitics continue, as ever, to be crucial determinants of [contemporary
peace] processes; and that the influence of liberalism, and the degree of global
consensus over the liberal peace, are significantly overstated within liberal
peacebuilding discourse’ (Selby 2013: 65). Joshi et al. (2014) have rejected
arguments that the notion of liberal peacebuilding does not really exist. Their
study uses data from the Kroc Institute’s Peace Accord Matrix (PAM) project7
to show that liberal peace actually exists, at least in relation to the inclusion of
liberal goals of good governance, human rights, security sector reform, rule of
law and democracy in peace accords. This book concurs with the argument
that liberal peacebuilding (in its various forms) actually exists.
CONCLUSION
The 1990s witnessed the rise of violent intrastate conflicts in many parts of
Africa and other parts of the developing world, which coincided with the end
of the Cold War. This saw an increasing change in both the norms and practice
of international response to civil wars, involving both state and non-state
actors. During this period, the issue of ‘state collapse’ and ‘state failure’
became an issue of international concern, witnessing an ideological turn in
relation to the UN peace operations. Moreover, this period witnessed the
emergence of an international consensus that failed or collapsed states and
non-state actors posed a serious threat to international peace and security
more than aggressive powerful states. This resulted in the argument that
building effective and legitimate liberal states would deal with such a threat
as well as promote self-sustaining peace in war-torn societies. In each of the
war-torn societies, international peacebuilding actors introduced post-conflict
peacebuilding initiatives based on the liberal peace tenets with little attention
being paid on the local context, and such peacebuilding processes have
produced mixed outcomes, thus generating an interesting debate within the
academy and policies circles.
NOTES
1. Even when Boutrous-Ghali wrote his Agenda for Peace in 1992, it was not
really clear what peacebuilding was. This is reflected, for instance, in the
development of UN policy documents on peacebuilding such as An Agenda
for Peace (1992), An Agenda for Development (1994), the Supplement to an

Agenda for Peace (1995), An Agenda for Democratization (1995) and the
Millennium Development goals among others. In 2005, peace became
institutionalized with the creation of the United Nations Peacebuilding
Commission (UNPBC). One of the aims of the commission is to coordinate
peacebuilding activities among key actors. What is important to note, is that
peacebuilding became clear when it became connected with the state.
2. The 7/7, 2005 terrorist attack in London, UK, is evidence that terrorists
can emerge from more stable states since the attackers were British citizens.
3. Proponents of this approach include Fukuyama (2004), Rotberg (2004) and
Paris (2004).
4. Social integration occurs when distinct groups are incorporated into a
common society with the creation of an overarching supranational identity
by means of standardizing and unifying the various cultures and identities
(Kostic 2008).
5. For instance, Fukuyama (2004) has argued that weak states tend to be
aggressive against their neighbors.
6. In The Transformation of Peace (2005) and Peace in International Relations
(2008a), Richmond attempts to fill this gap in IR and provides a discussion
of how peace has been discussed in IR literature.
7. The PAM project compares and contrasts more than 51 elements that have
featured in comprehensive peace agreements signed since 1989 and their
implementation.
CHAPTER 4
The Liberal Peace in Question
In the past two decades, liberal peacebuilding initiatives in post-war

societies have generated debates and controversies within the academic
and policy circles on their nature and effectiveness, what causes peace, the
nature of peace to be built, the owner(s) of the peace, the failure of liberal
peace to connect with its target population and how the international
actors should relate with local actors. Moreover, questions have been
raised regarding the assumptions, strategies, viability and coherence of
international peacebuilding initiatives.
Empirical and statistical evidence show that post-Cold War interna-
tional peacebuilding operations have managed to promote stability and
end overt violence in war-torn societies (Doyle and Sambanis 2000).
However, critiques of international peacebuilding concur that liberal
peacebuilding and statebuilding initiatives in post-conflict environments
have proved to be partially counter-productive and on the whole have not
achieved the intended goal of helping war-torn societies transform from
states of violent conflict to self-sustaining peace (Paris 2004; Taylor 2007;
Duffield 2001; Willet 2005; Richmond 2004, 2005, 2006; Mac Ginty
2006; Richmond and Franks 2008). The prevailing consensus among
these critiques is that efforts to promote political and economic liberal-
ization in post-conflict environments has had a mixed record – has often
led to tensions or a return to overt violence, as in Angola, as well as partial
success, as in Namibia and Mozambique (Paris 2004). The debate over the
liberal peace reflects a polarization between those who would want to see

DOI 10.1057/978-1-137-57291-2_4
the liberal peace made better and cannot see ‘realistic’ alternatives outside
it, thus would prefer a search for alternatives within the liberal peace itself
(Paris 2004, 2010; Begby and Burgess 2009), and those who have sub-
jected it to critical scrutiny questioning its viability, appropriateness and
legitimacy, and have suggested the need to search for alternatives to the
liberal peace that are context specific (see, e.g., Richmond and Franks
2009; Mac Ginty 2010a, 2011), with some like Richmond proposing
post-liberal peacebuilding (2011b).
The aim of this chapter is to offer a critical review of literature on the
liberal peace agenda and the controversies surrounding liberal peace-
building. The growth in literature on post-conflict peacebuilding and
the liberal peace is a result of the increase and omnipresence of civil
wars in the developing world after the end of the Cold War and the
supposed failure in the dominant liberal peace paradigm to create con-
ditions that contribute to durable and self-sustaining peace in post-
conflict environments.
POLITICAL LIBERALIZATION, FREE MARKETS AND PEACE

There has been considerable debate among social scientists on the causes
of a self-sustaining peace. As the Soviet Union was collapsing and the
Berlin Wall was about to fall, Francis Fukuyama (1989), in his influential
essay ‘The End of History?’, declared the victory of political and economic
liberalism over communism, hereditary monarchs, aristocracy, theocracy,
and fascism. As a result, the struggle for ideas had come to an end, and
liberal democracy had become the only legitimate form of government:
What we are witnessing is not just the end of the Cold War, or a passing of a
particular period of postwar history, but the end of history as such: that is,
the end point of mankind’s ideological evolution and the universalization of
Western liberal democracy as the final form of human government.
(Fukuyama 1989: 4)
In his 1992 book The End of History and the Last Man to Stand, Fukuyama
wrote that at the end of history, no serious ideological competitors were
left to liberal democracy, and ‘[ . . . ] outside the Islamic world, there
appears to be a general consensus that accepts liberal democracy’s claims
to be the most rational form of government, that is, the state that realizes
most fully either rational desire or rational recognition’ (1992: 211–212).
4 THE LIBERAL PEACE IN QUESTION 73
The collapse of communism led to the belief that liberal democracy is the
only viable and good form of governance, and that its universalization and
a decline in military expenditure would result in the world society enjoying
a ‘peace dividend’. Against the backdrop of the collapse of communism in
the former Soviet Union, the fall of the Berlin wall and a ‘wave’ of
democratic transitions in Eastern Europe, sub-Saharan Africa, Asia and
Latin America, an optimistic atmosphere emerged in the liberal democra-
cies of the West. However, the celebration of the triumph of liberal
democracy and the ‘wave’ of democratic transitions in the developing
world were overshadowed by an increase in violent intra-state conflicts in
the developing countries – the majority of them were African countries –
including Rwanda, Sierra Leone Somalia, Bosnia, Kosovo, Angola, Liberia
and Burundi.
In the absence of superpower competition, the conflicts presented
Western liberal democracies and international institutions such as the
UN with an opportunity to intervene for humanitarian purposes, to
end the conflicts and adopt approaches aimed at establishing a liberal
peace that has proved durable in Western liberal democracies. For
proponents of the liberal peace as noted in the previous chapter,
open markets and open political spaces are essential for both domestic
and global peace and security. Another assumption is that, since the
liberal peace has worked well in the West, transplanting it wholesale in
other parts of the world, especially those emerging from violent con-
flict, can deliver sustainable peace in them. Based on these assump-
tions, international actors have pursued fast-track political and market
liberalization initiatives simultaneously.1 Championed by international
financial institutions such as the World Bank, free market reforms
involve the implementation of policies that lead to deregulation,
macroeconomic stabilization and the opening up of domestic markets
to foreign investment, among others. On the political front, post-war
societies have witnessed international actors pushing for multi-party
elections, the writing of constitutions, the promotion of the rule of
law, the liberalization of political activities and the establishment of
vibrant civil societies. In post-conflict environments, it is assumed that
providing individual liberties and free markets would promote not only
economic growth but also a self-sustaining peace since this encourages
peaceful means of resolving conflicts. The simultaneous promotion of
market liberalization and political liberalization is based on the
assumption that the two are intrinsically connected and complement
each other. However, the two tend to conflict with each other. For
instance, market democracy encourages competition and conflict, and
in a situation where institutions are lacking to manage economic and
political competition this can lead to violence and can undermine the
(re)building of state institutions and the promotion of political liberal-
ization in war-affected societies (Paris 2004). Moreover, research has
shown that in countries such as Tunisia, rather than fostering democ-
racy, market-oriented reforms reinforced authoritarianism, clientelism
and corporatism (King 2003). Furthermore, in post-conflict situations
free market reforms have resulted in neo-liberal economics co-opting
the liberal peace, thus reifying neo-liberal capitalism while undermin-
ing welfare, human needs and social justice (Pugh 2009) thus exacer-
bating socio-economic inequalities that contributed to the conflict in
the first place.
In an attempt to answer the question whether international peace-
builders’ strategies of political and economic liberalization can recreate
conditions of civil war, in his book at War’s End, Roland Paris (2004)
provides a critique of all 14 major peacebuilding operations under the UN
umbrella between 1989 and 1999. These 14 peace operations shared a
basic assumption of immediately transforming into liberal market democ-
racies emerging from violent conflict. Paris observes that the 14 cases
produced mixed results. For instance, post-conflict elections in Rwanda
(1994) and Angola (1992) led to renewed conflict, and in the case of
Nicaragua, Guatemala and El Salvador liberal economic policies reinforced
socio-economic equalities which had contributed to violence in the three
countries in the first place. In most of these cases, the process of political
or economic liberalization or both had damaging and destabilizing effects.
Paris concludes that rapid liberalization helped rekindle overt violence or
contributed to the recreation of the social and economic conditions that
had caused violence in many of the countries that have hosted these UN
missions, raising questions about the reliability of the current ‘peace-
through-liberalization strategy’ (2004: 155).2
Paris attributes the big part of this problem to contemporary students
of the liberal peace thesis and peacebuilders who have continued to pay
excessive attention to contemporary advocates of rapid liberalization while
ignoring classical liberals’ ‘pragmatic emphasis on authoritative and effec-
tive – in addition to limited – government as a precondition for domestic
peace’ (2004: 152). For him, it is crucial to draw on classical liberalism’s
‘insights into the preconditions for lifting societies out of the state of
nature, including the requirement for effective government institutions, or

“state capacity”, as the foundation for a peaceful market democracy’
(2006: 427).
DEMOCRATIZATION AND VIOLENT CONFLICTS

A number of studies that have examined the nature of the relationship
between democratization and the risk of violent conflict concur with
Paris’s findings (Ottaway 1995; Snyder 2000; Moran 2006).3 Snyder
(2000) has used empirical evidence, both historical and contemporary,
to investigate the connection between democratization and increased risk
of political violence that is related to nationalism and ethnicity. Although
Snyder does not dispute the position that democracies rarely fight against
each other, he finds the initial phase of democratization to be extremely
unstable since transition to democracy triggers political violence that is
related to nationalism and ethnicity. Democratization creates political
space that results in the establishment of politically significant groups
that have diverse interests and sometimes different ideologies. This often
results in political elites feeling threatened. Since the process of democra-
tization challenges the status quo, traditional elites who feel threatened
seek to maintain authority by mobilizing masses along ethnic or nationalist
lines (Ottaway 1997). This implies that if violence erupts, it does so along
ethnic or nationalist lines.
Without an understanding of the local context and power relations, the
idea of ‘peace-as-democratization’ can lead to unintended consequences
in conflict-prone societies. As such, a Western-style democratic system
should be seen as not always a panacea to the instability in conflict-torn
societies but also a potential source of instability depending on how it is
introduced in such fragile societies. Since the process of democratization is
more problematic, democratization initiatives need to be cognizant of the
politics of the transition (Snyder 2000).
PARIS’ INSTITUTIONALIZATION BEFORE LIBERALIZATION

APPROACH
Paris does not suggest a solution that takes proper consideration and
understanding of existing political and cultural systems in countries host-
ing peacebuilding operations, but one that aims at building effective
institutions before the liberalization process. His work is significant in

bringing out important issues including the process through which war-
torn societies can be transformed into liberal market democracies, and the
negative effects of competition associated with capitalism and democracy
on war-shattered states. While proponents of the liberal peace see the
competition that democracy and capitalism encourage as important in
promoting efficiency and accountability in both the economic and political
realms, they overlook the fact that this is not effective in war-shattered
states since such states lack effective government institutions (Paris 2004).
For Paris war-torn societies are susceptible to five pathologies: (1) bad civil
society; (2) opportunistic ethnic entrepreneurs; (3) the danger that elec-
tions may cause destructive societal competition; (4) local saboteurs who
claim to be champions for democracy, but seek to destabilize the demo-
cratic process; (5) and the risk of economic liberalization (2004: 159–65).
War-torn states are vulnerable to the above five pathologies due to intense
societal conflicts, their lack of traditional conflict dampeners including
cultural constraints on violent behavior and ineffective political institu-
tions (Paris 2004: 168–75). For Paris, building strong and effective state
institutions before implementing liberalization policies is the sure way out
of this challenge.
Drawing from the democratic peace thesis, Paris argues that peacebuilders
should preserve the broad goal of transforming war-torn states into liberal
market democracies since mature democracies tend to be peaceful in their
domestic affairs as well as in their relations with other democracies. Although
Paris is critical of the liberal peace model of the 1990s, he does not reject the
goals of liberal peacebuilding. Instead, he offers an alternative model within
the liberal peace framework which he calls ‘Institutionalization before
Liberalization’ (IBL). This approach acknowledges that political and market
liberalization can worsen societal conflicts and further proposes the building
of strong and effective state institutions before embarking on a liberalization
agenda and transferring power to local actors.
In this regard, the process of liberalization is gradual and controlled by
international peacebuilders ensuring that state institutions being built can
manage the political and economic reforms being introduced in such post-
conflict societies. The IBL approach encourages an arrangement that is
similar to the United Nations Transitional Administrations in East Timor
and Kosovo. Since there is a likelihood of warring parties returning to
conflict in the early stages of building strong institutions, Paris suggests
that in these earliest stages international peacebuilders should act ‘illiberally.’
For Paris such a move is crucial if the long-term objective of establishing

durable and sustainable peace in post-conflict societies is to be achieved.
Criticisms of the IBL Strategy

Paris’s IBL approach is flawed for a number of reasons. It is built on the idea
that the liberal peace is a universal peace and as such, his approach offers a
prescription that overlooks and undermines local agency, ownership, custom
and local institutions. As Mac Ginty and Richmond rightly point out,
[ . . . ] even the process of building institutions must be locally owned, and

reflect local identity and the new peace, liberal or otherwise, and must be
quickly and demonstrably of benefit to the vast majority of the population,
not just in ways that withstand comparison with the local pre-peace process
environment, but the globalised milieu of stable and prosperous societies
around the world. (2007: 493)
Moreover, Paris’s suggestion that peacebuilders should use ‘illiberal’

means to achieve the goal of building institutions before liberalizing
political and economic spheres reflects a classic expression of the author-
itarianism that liberalism can adopt. It encourages liberals to use force in
situations where they want to build strong institutions in war-shattered
states or when the host states do not comply with the demands of the
liberals. The net effect of this is that the liberal peace that is created in
post-conflict states is anti-liberation since it takes away the right to self-
governance and self-determination of the individuals in host countries. As
it is, the IBL is counterproductive. It asks too much from the peace-
builders including being coercive in the interim period and can put peace-
builders in harm’s way if local actors violently resist such initiatives.
Moreover, as Sriram (2008) argues, the rush to institutionalization can
pose serious risks to the host country including the creation or consolida-
tion of new spoiler groups and the destabilization of weak state structures.
Furthermore, the IBL strategy overlooks critical factors to the promo-
tion of lasting and stable peace including the promotion of the needs and
interests of the ordinary people. It also reduces peacebuilding to a tech-
nical exercise involving activities such as institution building, demobiliza-
tion, disarmament and reintegration of former combatants, rather than
considering the root causes of the conflict. A ‘virtual peace’ (Richmond
2005, 2006; Taylor 2007) or ‘technocratic peace’ (Mac Ginty 2006)
emerges from such problem-solving approaches to peacemaking. A ‘virtual

peace’ does not have wide support from most of the population in war-
torn societies, though it is usually satisfactory to the ruling elites and
international peacebuilders (Taylor 2007; Richmond 2005). It is often
contested, fragile and overlooks the agency of most of the population to
build peace through other mechanisms such as custom, traditions, recon-
ciliation and restorative justice. Empirical studies on Cambodia, East
Timor, Kosovo and other war-shattered states have shown that where a
peace dividend is not shared among most of the population, there is a very
high risk of a return to a violent conflict or authoritarianism (Richmond
and MacGinty 2007; Chopra 2002; Richmond and Franks 2008).
THINKING ANEW ABOUT INTERNATIONAL PEACEBUILDING

AND STATEBUILDING
In an attempt to provide a new thinking about international peace support

operations, contributors to the book, Peace Operations and Global Order,
edited by Bellamy and Williams (2005) criticize the problem-solving
approach of the mainstream literature on peacebuilding and statebuilding.
In this volume, Bellamy and Williams place emphasis on thinking anew
about the role of peace operations and offering alternative visions of such
operations’ function in global politics.
Bellamy and Williams, and others call for the need to adopt critical
perspectives in order to re-examine the ontology and epistemology of peace-
keeping. In an attempt to ‘think anew’, this book goes beyond Bellamy and
Williams’ conceptualization of ‘thinking anew’ and draws from critical lit-
erature on liberal peacebuilding whose interests include liberation and
emancipation as well as the liberal peace, the conditions of a durable and
sustainable peace that are grounded not necessarily in the liberal peace but
also in the local context, culture and custom, human needs and welfare as
well as rights and the unintended consequences of the liberal peace
(Tadjbakhsh 2011; Richmond 2011b; Mac Ginty 2011; Graef 2015).
USING LOCAL CULTURAL RESOURCES IN PEACEBUILDING

Conflict transformation practitioner-scholar, Lederach (1997) has argued
that it is vital to approach a conflict within its particular context pointing
out that people within a conflict setting should be viewed as a key
resource, not recipients. He further asserts for the need to build appro-
priate models from the cultural and contextual resources for peace and
conflict resolution available within a conflict environment. For this to be
achieved, Lederach argues, those in the international community should
go beyond ‘a simple prescription of answers and modalities for dealing
with conflict that come from outside the setting and focus at least as much
attention on discovering and empowering the resources, modalities, and
mechanisms for building peace that exist within the context’ (1997: 95).
As noted in Chapter 2, indigenous traditions and institutions have
played a significant role in creating conditions for order, healing, reconci-
liation and peaceful coexistence at community levels in Africa. For instance,
the Jir (a community dispute mediation session) among the Tiv commu-
nity of Nigeria, the guurti system (inter-clan mediating council) in
Somaliland, mato oput (drinking the bitter herb) in northern Uganda and
the ubuntu approach to reconciliation in South Africa (Murithi 2008). In
Somaliland, traditional leadership institutions played a significant role in
bringing together the various clans and creating a government and legis-
lature that combines traditional governance structures and the modern
state (Murithi 2009; Boege et al. 2008).4 The situation in Somaliland is
more promising than in central and southern Somalia as it currently enjoys
some relative peace and stability. These traditional and indigenous forms of
peacemaking and dispute resolution have co-existed with the interna-
tional/Western ones and remain resilient against the onslaught of moder-
nity, thus continue to be extensively used at community levels in most parts
of Africa.
In the context of Sierra Leone, its 1991 constitution recognizes the
institution of the Paramount Chief and customary law. In fact, a dual
formal legal system exists in the country that is based on a common law
consisting of English law which is administered through national courts
and customary law that is administered through local courts in 149 chief-
doms (Sawyer 2008). The 1991 Sierra Leone constitution defines cus-
tomary law as ‘the rules of law which by custom are applicable to particular
communities in Sierra Leone’ (section 170(3)). In addition, in Sierra
Leone, ‘Customary justice is dispensed in line with the beliefs, customs
and traditions of inhabitants of the local area through the administration
of customary law by local courts’ (Robins 2009: 1).5 Although most of the
rural population use local courts, such courts’ jurisdiction is limited to minor
criminal offenses, land disputes, seduction, witchcraft, divorce and debt.
An informal legal system also exists in the country. Sawyer (2008: 393)
notes that, often village headmen, paramount chiefs and section hold
informal courts, and at these courts they do levy fees, adjudicate cases
and impose fines or other forms of punishment. In addition, they are more
accessible for most of the rural populace. Furthermore, most of the rural
population also rely upon secret societies, diviners and ‘medicine men’
‘who may offer alternative forms of adjudication or retribution’ (Sawyer
2008: 393; Alie 2008; Sriram 2011), even though the state does not
recognize them.
The rural populace, in Sierra Leone in particular and Africa in general,
has continued to rely upon customary, non-state justice systems for a
number of reasons: corruption and limited access to the formal justice
sector, customary justice systems offer a range of advantages to them
including being cheap, accessible, connecting them to their customs,
flexible, familiar to the conflicting parties, not adversarial, offer restorative
justice (aimed at mediation that leads to decisions that restore and rebuild
community relations) as opposed to retributive justice, give them a sense
of ownership, payment of compensation to the individual(s) who is
wronged and are flexible (see Sawyer 2008; Sriram 2011; Alie 2008).
Like other parts of Africa, Sierra Leone’s customary law has been criticized
for privileging men over women, especially in the context of marital
disputes (Alie 2008; Sriram 2011). However, among the Kpaa Mende,
according to Alie (2008: 137), this is done for the purpose of maintaining
relations and peace:
It is not considered in the best interest of the family to wrong a husband

even if his guilt is clearly evident. Instead, the elders would attempt to saying
soothing words to the wife and later privately rebuke the husband for his
misdeeds. While this may look like an injustice to the woman, there is an
important social element here. The main interest is to hold the marriage
together, not to create a situation where the woman will ‘win the war but
lose the peace’.
Manifesto ’99 (2002), a human rights NGO in Sierra Leone, notes that
traditional beliefs play a significant role in the lives of Sierra Leoneans and
most of the 14 ethnic groups in the country have long-established traditional
practices of conflict resolution. In addition, Sierra Leoneans have used
proverbs and idioms in conflict resolution. For instance, Stovel (2008:
306) has observed that, in post-war Sierra Leone, officials and civil society
leaders searched their traditions and found the conciliatory Krio proverb:
‘Bad bush nor dae for troway bad pekin’ (‘There is no bad bush to throw
away a bad child’), which means that irrespective of what a person has done
the community will still accept him/her. As Stovel argues, the philosophy
behind this Krio proverb extends beyond children as it implies that Africans
are community-oriented and the community will always have space for its
members (2008). In the post-war period, state officials and civil society
leaders, in Sierra Leone, used this proverb to promote reconciliation and
integration of former rebels and child soldiers in the society.
However, this approach has led to the romanticization of this conciliatory
tradition-based expression and, thus, has a danger of being blind to or to
reinforce the power structures that contributed to the conflict (Stovel 2008).
Besides the use of proverbs in promoting reconciliation and peace, secret
societies’ ‘processes of justice and conflict resolution [such as cleansing
ceremonies that] often emphasise truth-telling and reconciliation’ have
been used to facilitate the reintegration of former combatants, especially
the reintegration of former child soldiers into their families (Sriram 2011:
130; Alie 2008). One of the limitations of secret society processes is that
given an oath of secrecy, it is difficult for members to seek recourse, even
when a decision made under such a process is abusive (Sriram 2011).
Furthermore, customary approaches to peacemaking can be useful in
recognizing the voices and agency of ordinary people in post-conflict
environments as well as in dealing with some of the root causes of conflict
at community or village levels. At the same time, these approaches should
not be over romanticized. It is crucial to expose their limitations as well as
argue for integrating their positive aspects with other forms of peace-
building, if this promotes the creation of lasting peace. In post-conflict
societies, a mere adoption or uncritical use of customary approaches to
peacemaking can reinforce the local power structures that were part of the
root causes of the conflict. Moreover, recognition of positive aspects of
customary systems and traditional belief systems, chieftaincy and African
philosophy as expressed in proverbs can help identify local ‘resistances’ to
violence (Milne 2010).
Furthermore, Lederach has observed that in societies emerging from
violent conflict ordinary people express feeling including distance, suspi-
cion and indifference and as such, for him, it is crucial to pay attention to
‘social spaces, relationships, ideas and processes’ that can contribute to the
restoration of trust (2005: 59). In rural Africa, customary approaches to
justice, peace and conflict resolution have played a significant role in
rebuilding social and interpersonal trust through participation, forgiveness,
healing, restorative justice and reconciliation. Despite this, international

peacebuilders have remained faithful to the liberal peace emphasizing the
state and its institutions, offering empty rhetorical commitments to local
autonomy and ownership. Critiques have criticized them for failing to
move beyond this rhetoric (Donais 2012) and for giving little emphasis
on local priorities for post-conflict peacebuilding (Cubitt 2012), as they
continue to set the peacebuilding agenda and priorities in post-conflict
situations.
Mac Ginty (2008) cautions against viewing indigenous and traditional
approaches to peacebuilding as a panacea to all the problems associated
with the liberal peace. For him, the failure of traditional and indigenous
social patterns may have contributed to the outbreak of the civil war and
the dislocation resulting from civil war often result in indigenous and
traditional social patterns being unsustainable. Mac Ginty criticizes writers
who have tended to over-romanticize traditional and indigenous
approaches to peacemaking, and overlook the positive aspects of conven-
tional approaches to peacebuilding. However, not all indigenous and
traditional practices are good as some of them can be ‘deeply conservative
and exclusionary’ (Mac Ginty 2008: 120).
Further, Mac Ginty (2010b) observes that in recent years, leading
states and INGOs have been facilitating and funding traditional and
indigenous approaches to peacebuilding. He, therefore, questions
whether such methods should be called ‘traditional’ or ‘indigenous’
if leading states and international organizations have co-opted them.
Mac Ginty (2010b: 353) also states that ‘the international peacebuild-
ing agents that regard “local ownership”, “participation”, and “sus-
tainability” as the saviors of peacebuilding have also identified
indigenous and traditional approaches to peacebuilding as a means to
promote their peacebuilding agenda’. He calls this approach a ‘peace-
fixing’ or ‘problem-solving’ approach, which can lead to the co-option
of local elites and NGOs. This would end up undermining the voices
of the ‘local’. While this author agrees with Mac Ginty that traditional
and indigenous approaches to peacebuilding are not panacea to all the
problems in post-conflict situations, his idea of ‘peace-fixing’ runs the
risk of undermining the role of custom in peacebuilding and overlooks
the local’s creative agency to influence international peacebuilders.
However, the notion of ‘peace-fixing’ helps us to think about interests
and infrapolitics of international peacebuilders who sponsor local forms
of peacebuilding.
It is, thus, crucial to critically examine the relationship between the

international actors who are sponsoring and supporting traditional and
indigenous and the locals, whether these ‘indigenous’ or ‘traditional’
approaches are not being designed to suit the interests of their sponsors
and also to what extent local voices and agency are being recognized. In
addition, whether the ‘local’ lead these initiatives or whether co-opted
local NGOs are not imposing these programs on the grassroots in the
name of tradition in order to continue getting funding from the West
which in the end may promote Western interests and not the needs,
interests and concerns of the ordinary people in a post-conflict situation.
This should not distract us from identifying customary and indigenous
peacebuilding approaches that could still have relevance in contemporary
Africa. As Richmond (2011a: 118) notes, ‘A resurgence of traditional
belief systems and customary forms of governance perhaps has the effect
of [ . . . ] redressing the local agency gap, and certainly also significantly
modifying the liberal state.’
ON THE CRISIS OF THE LIBERAL PEACE

In many post-war societies, liberal peacebuilding has failed to adequately
address the positive aspects of peace such as welfare and social justice.
Economic and social injustice, poverty, corruption, nepotism and unem-
ployment continue to plague many, if not all, of Africa’s post-conflict
environments. As in the case of Sierra Leone – described in this book –
the bulk of the population is increasingly becoming disappointed and
disoriented since the liberal peace that is trickling from top to bottom is
yet to reach them. Castaneda (2009: 236) observes that the political econ-
omy of the liberal peace favors macro-economic security over the social and
this is based on the assumption that peace will ‘trickle down from the
macro-economic to the social realm’ leading to a ‘trickle-down peace’ – a
form of peace that trickles down from the top to the bottom emphasizing
security and tends to be oblivious of current interests of most of the
population in post-conflict societies. The assumption behind the idea of a
‘trickle-down’, according to Castaneda (2009: 236), is that ‘a lack of
violence (negative peace), an improved macro-economic framework (“eco-
nomic peace”), and large-scale goals such as food production will flow
down to the community and individual level as increased personal, eco-
nomic, and even food security’. As Castaneda contends, a trickle-down
peace will make peacebuilding hard and problematic. While she
acknowledges that Sierra Leone’s fragile stability is legacy of the civil war,
she also argues that it is also a product of a post-conflict peacebuilding
initiative that places emphasis on ‘trickle-down peace’ and fails to pay
greater attention to social welfare. As such, this makes it difficult for the
liberal peace to establish sustainable peace in post-war environments in
Africa, where poverty, exclusion, marginalization and inadequate access
to social justice are major problems.
International peacebuilders’ emphasis on the state and creating
strong state institutions has resulted in activities which most citizens
perceive as not helpful in meeting their everyday needs. Most citizens in
such post-war environments continue to engage in what Gordon (2002
cited in Gonzalez de Allen 2006: 9) calls ‘extraordinary measures to live
ordinary lives’. As Richmond argues, local views of the liberal peace
agenda and its focus on statebuilding in many post-conflict societies
‘indicate it to be ethically bankrupt, subject to double standards, coer-
cive and conditional, acultural, unconcerned, with the social welfare,
and unfeeling and insensitive toward its subjects’ (2009b: 558). It is
clear that the liberal peace blue-print for creating ‘a liberal peace for all’
(Richmond 2009a) made promises beyond what it could deliver. As
Mathews (2004: 378) rightly argues, ‘To promise to deliver a starving
man a meal and then only to deliver a few crumbs is to fail to keep a
promise’. This failure to deliver on a promise – a concrete peace
dividend at the level of civilian population’s everyday life – has under-
mined efforts that seek to produce durable and sustainable peace in
post-war societies (Richmond 2009a). Given this, some critics have
concluded that the liberal peace is in crisis of success, legitimacy and
confidence (Richmond 2009b; Cooper 2007).
DEFENDERS OF THE LIBERAL PEACE CHALLENGE CRITICS

TO OFFER AN ALTERNATIVE
It is now widely acknowledged that on the whole, international peace-
building has not achieved the intended goal of helping war-torn societies
transform from states of violent conflict to self-sustaining peace and
economic development (Richmond 2005, 2011b, 2009; Paris 2004;
Mac Ginty 2011; G7+ 2011; UNDP 2012; World Bank 2011). Rather
than searching for alternatives outside the liberal peace, defenders of the
liberal peace have argued for the need to reform it pointing out that
alternatives should come from within liberalism itself since there are no
viable alternative strategies outside it (Paris 2010; Begby and Burgess
2009). For instance, Paris, rejecting the claim that liberal peacebuilding
is in crisis, regards it as the only realistic solution for reconstructing war-
torn societies (Paris 2010). Paris further points out that scholars and
commentators who argue that the liberal peace is illegitimate or basically
destructive are being ‘hyper-critical’, and as such, liberal peacebuilding
needs to be ‘saved’ from such ‘hyper-critics’ who have offered exaggerated
claims about it. He asserts that ‘there is no realistic alternative to some
form of liberal peacebuilding strategy’ (Paris 2010: 340, emphasis not
mine). For him, ‘alternatives strategies – that is, strategies not rooted in
liberal principles – would likely create more problems than they would
solve’ (Paris 2010: 357).6 For Paris, ‘The challenge today is not to replace
or move “beyond” liberal peacebuilding, but to reform existing
approaches within a broadly liberal framework’ (Paris 2010: 362). He,
thus, challenges scholars like Duffield, Mac Ginty, Richmond and Cooper
who offer a radical criticism of the liberal peace to ‘[ . . . ] spell out a clear
alternative to current liberal peacebuilding practices ’ (Paris 2010: 353).
Critical theorists, of course, reject this criticism. Richmond, Cooper,
Turner and Pugh and Tadjbakhsh have taken issue with Paris’ claim that
there is ‘no real alternative’ to liberal peacebuilding (Richmond 2011b;
Cooper et al. 2011; Tadjbakhsh 2011). For Richmond, the ‘defensive
claim that there is “no real alternative” is . . . a liberal fantasy, derived from
crypto-colonial claims of cosmopolitan universalism’ (2011b: 2). For
others, Paris’ ‘deterministic assumption’ that there is no viable alternative
to the liberal peace agenda is ‘unjustified’ (Cooper et al. 2011: 1995).
Contrary to Paris, recent empirical research in Namibia, Mozambique,
Liberia, East Timor, Kosovo and Bosnia show that alternatives and mod-
ifications to the liberal peace agenda exist (see Richmond 2011b). As
Cooper et al. note,
Contrary to trying to imagine competing meta-alternatives to liberalism, it is

more constructive to acknowledge and investigate the variety of political
economies in post-conflict societies – whether influenced by dirigiste, state
welfarist, neoliberal, centralised, decentralised, protectionist, integrative,
modernising or respecting tribal, religious and customary forms of produc-
tion and exchange. And rather than measuring them against a liberalising
norm, it is important to consider them in their own right as varied forms of
peace. (2011: 2006)
The thinking that there are no alternatives outside the liberal peace is
controversial, as it impedes ingenious thinking regarding various ways in
which durable peace can be built in post-war societies, including imagina-
tions about positive hybrid forms of peace and political orders. Some
critics of the liberal peace agenda have suggested the need to ground
liberal peacebuilding in local contextual matters taking sufficient account
of local agency, needs and welfare as well as everyday lived experiences of
most of the population in post-conflict environments. In other words,
such critics suggest an emancipatory alternative that take into account
local realities, communities and agencies, and various actors, bottom-up
and top-down approaches to peacebuilding in post-conflict societies.
Concerns here include the totalizing discourses of the liberal peace
which have ‘depoliticized and removed [local] agency’ (Richmond
2010a: 201). Critics of liberal peacebuilding ‘reject imposition in favour
of negotiation over what type of “peace” is being built and for whom’
(Cooper et al. 2011: 2007). These responses reflect a deep polarization
between the critical theorists and mainstream critics who would want to
see the liberal peace model made better within the liberal internationalist
framework.
In addition, despite acknowledging the dilemmas of statebuilding in
post-war situations, Paris and Sisk (2009) would want to see international
actors managing the dilemmas of statebuilding rather than abandon it.
The two scholars argue that although statebuilding remains a core element
for peacebuilding in war-torn societies, it faces inherent contradictions and
tensions which international state builders have paid little attention to and
these tensions and contradictions in turn have resulted in policy dilemmas
for both international and local actors. Roland and Sisk further argue that
although statebuilding has produced mixed results and its record has
generally been disappointing, neither can it be abandoned nor can the
international state builders do more, but should manage these dilemmas
(at the same time, noting that these dilemmas are difficult to resolve).
Moreover, these dilemmas of statebuilding can better be managed by
having a deeper understanding of them. The two scholars recommend
‘dilemma analysis’ as a new analytical tool that international state builders
must use before and during their missions in order to more effectively deal
with the inherent tensions and contradictions of statebuilding. However,
this ‘dilemma analysis’ does not aim at replacing the more conventional
approach to mission planning, but supplements it and starts from the
assumption that many of the elements of statebuilding will not integrate
easily. This still reflects an ethnocentric bias which does not see anything
good in the non-European ‘other’ and views the liberal peace as the best
possible alternative.
This raises the question whether the liberal peace is prepared to
engage with the non-liberal other. And if it is tolerant to local
approaches to peacemaking, as Paris is pointing out, why is it that for
the past two decades it has paid little attention on them or undermined
them? Is this being done with the consent of recipients of the liberal
peace? Or is the social contract not of much significance? Legitimacy
can only be built with the consent of those in host-countries and
without this the politics of anger, frustration and resentment can
emerge. In other words, the liberal peace-is-good-for-sustainable
peace argument fails to realize that liberal peace-without-local-legiti-
macy-is-not-good-for-sustainable peace. This argument is in line with
utilitarian arguments which argue for approaches that would produce
best possible results in a given situation and also points out to the
possibilities of other alternatives.
POST-CONFLICT ENVIRONMENTS AS ‘CONTACT ZONES’

Though used in the context of the ‘first’ encounter between the colonizer
and the colonized (Pratt 1992), the concept of ‘contact zone’ will be used
here to mean a space where the culture, the local and the outsider interact,
negotiate, get modified, accepted and resisted (even in situations where
power relations are viewed as asymmetrical) in the context of international
peacebuilding, which may result in a form of peace that is neither liberal
nor local but a mixture of the two, that is, a hybrid peace. This results in
what Pratt regards as a contact perspective – a perspective that considers
the relations between (in the case of contemporary peacebuilding) local
and international actors in terms of ‘co-presence, interaction, interlocking
understandings and practices, often with radically asymmetrical reflections
of power’, and not in terms of separateness (1992: 7). This helps us to
break from binary oppositions, for instance, the civilized and the primitive,
the local and the international, the modern and the traditional, and the
developed and the underdeveloped, and as such, could help in finding
ways of creating conditions for durable peace in post-conflict environ-
ments. In this sense, an understanding of post-conflict environments as
‘contact zones’ in which international actors and local actors interact, at
the same time paying attention to power relations between the various
actors, would emphasize facts on the ground and attempts to show that
post-conflict situations follow their own logic or that state institutions
exist alongside with non-state institutions such as indigenous and tradi-
tional political institutions and secret society institutions (as in the case of
Sierra Leone) which have various claims to authority, legitimacy, power,
sovereignty and order. This calls for the need to recognize multiple
sovereignties and legitimacies in such situations rather than focusing on
undermining or banning these institutions.
As critical approaches on liberal peacebuilding have highlighted, the
liberal peace is far from being perfect, particularly in post-conflict environ-
ments. Hence, the need to investigate what is on the ground. In order to
have a clear picture of what is going on the ground, it is crucial to unpack
concepts including power, resistance and hybridity in the context of
international peacebuilding in societies emerging from violent conflict.
POWER IN INTERNATIONAL PEACE-SUPPORT INTERVENTIONS

The most recent scholarship has suggested the need to observe what is
going on the ground and investigate the ways in which power is
exercised in post-conflict societies in the context of international peace-
building in order to get a better grip of ways in which sustainable
peace can be built in societies emerging from violent conflict. This is
producing valuable outcomes, as we are getting a better understanding
of not only how peace is built in post-conflict societies but also
motivations for local resistance to international peacebuilding pro-
grams,7 and how such ordinary people in post-war environments exer-
cise power vis-à-vis international actors. As such, in the last few years
there has been a surge in research on local resistance and counter-
power in the context of international peace-support interventions in
societies emerging from violent conflict (Mac Ginty 2011; Richmond
2011a, b; Lee 2015).
While in orthodox accounts, power is dichotomized between the domi-
nant (structures, experts, organizations) and the powerless (the margin-
alized and the poor, for instance), in post-structural accounts, it is viewed
as contextual, multiple and relational with matters being conceived in
terms of the ‘power to resist’ (Sharp et al. 2000: 2; Cahill 2008).
Foucault (1980) points out that, power is exercised through a ‘net-like
organization’ in which it circulates in subtle ways that can also show its
negative and positive dimensions. It operates in ways that can be repressive
and progressive, facilitative and constraining, to be condemned and to be

celebrated (Sharp et al. 2000). As Allen writes:
[ . . . ] power is not something that is simply extended over short or long

distances, or something which radiates out from an identifiable central
point, or something which engulfs places in ways that are all pervasive.
Power is not some ‘thing’ that moves and it does not traverse and transect
places or communities, so that we may be forgiven for thinking that is all
encompassing. Power . . . is a relational effect of social interaction. It may
bridge the gap between here and there, but only through a succession of
mediated relations or through the establishment of simultaneous presence.
(2003: 2)
For Allen (2003), power is not a ‘thing’ since it exists solely as a result of
social interaction. This implies that it cannot be something that can ‘be
readily centralized and “stored” in certain institutions or roles’ (Low
2005: 85). As such, power is not just a preserve of the powerful as it can
also be enacted through resistant formations within society (Sharp et al.
2000).
As Scott (1990: ix) notes – in his work on peasant farmers and the ways
in which they respond to domination – faced with exploitation via tradi-
tional patron–client relationships, peasant farmers exercise power by
adopting ‘a strategic pose in the presence of the powerful’ and engage in
‘hidden’, but powerful everyday forms of resistance, such as non-coopera-
tion, stealing harvests, false compliance, feigned ignorance and foot-drag-
ging. Power, in this case, is enacted through the peasant farmers’ ability to
resist, what can be called ‘resisting power’. In this book, power is under-
stood to be present in moments of domination and resistance.
The issue of powerlessness and domination has been highlighted in
debates on the liberal peace. The liberal peace has often been depicted as
hegemonic in nature. Given that its proponents have access to material
resources and possess technological skills, and have the ability to use them
to get local actors do what they otherwise would not do as well as maintain
much control over the post-conflict peacemaking agenda in post-war
societies, the liberal peace has been viewed as very powerful. This, at
times, has been traced back to the colonial period with some critiques,
as noted in Chapter 4, arguing that it is a form of neo-imperialism – a form
of social engineering – in which international actors want to build post-
conflict societies in the image of the West as well as compel them to
change their way of life (Roberts 2008; Darby 2009). As noted in

Chapter 4, mainstream scholars like Paris (2010: 338) have viewed liberal
peacebuilding as the only ‘viable alternative’ with the power to save ‘tens
of millions of people [from] lawlessness, predation, disease and fear’. Yet,
emerging literature on hybridity show that this is not always the case (see
for example, Mac Ginty 2011: 2 l; Richmond 2011b) as there exists
‘multiple faces of power’ (Pettit 2010) in post-conflict situation.
Although local actors appear to be powerless, they exercise power in
various ways, for instance, through resistance, and they have a better
understanding of the local context including the country’s history and
its political background, and domestic elites such as traditional and reli-
gious leaders have greater legitimacy than international actors.
Although the liberal peace has been portrayed as hegemonic and dom-
inating, as Mac Ginty has argued, it has ‘feet of clay’ and it is ‘prone to
distraction, suffers from the shortages of material and social capital, and
has been confronted by resistance from local actors’ (2011: 2). As the
Shona of Zimbabwe say, ‘Zizi harina nyanga, manhenga chete’ (the owl
has no horns, it is just its ears), which means things are not always what
they seem. The concepts of power, resistance, agency, hybrid, hybridity
and hybridization have been used to argue that the liberal peace is not
always what it seems, that is, it is not a form of peacemaking with excessive
power as one might think considering that local agency (both formal and
informal) has led to its hybridization in post-war societies. In post-conflict
environments, the liberal peace has shown its limitations as individuals and
social groups have not been passive recipients of the liberal peace, but have
expressed power and agency to resist, modify or shape it, and even co-opt
some of its elements.
Critical critiques on liberal peacebuilding have tended to criticize the
dominating power of the liberal peace in post-war societies. In this litera-
ture, ‘power’ is often viewed in evaluative terms. For instance, local actors’
capacity to express agency and resisting power including subverting,
hybridizing, modifying and appropriating the ‘blue prints’ for peace that
international actors advance is celebrated and viewed as progressive as well
as something that may result in the development of positive forms of
hybrid peace (Richmond 2011b; Mac Ginty 2011; Richmond 2009). It
is believed that this might result in forms of peace that have legitimacy at
the local level, thus more sustainable in the long term. In addition,
hybridization and hybridity are seen in positive terms as the capacity of
local actors to exercise ‘critical agency’ as well as ‘contaminate’ the liberal
peace (Richmond 2011b). Contrary to this, the dominant power of the

liberal peace has been viewed in negative terms as, for instance, as regres-
sive, illegitimate and neo-colonial. Yet, excessive focus on the power
dynamics between international actors and locals has a danger of focusing
on certain forms of power and overlooking entrenched patterns of control,
hierarchy and dominance at the local level that contributed to the violent
conflict in the first place. In other words, it is crucial to examine the ways
in which domestic actors exercise power in their interaction as well as in
their interaction with international actors, and their role in producing
positive or negative hybrid peace. As will be explained in Chapter 9, in
post-war Sierra Leone, both youths and traditional authorities in the
country’s chiefdoms exercise power in various ways in their interaction
in the context of liberal peacebuilding. The next section provides a dis-
cussion on resistance and international peacebuilding.
RESISTANCE AND INTERNATIONAL PEACEBUILDING

The past few decades have witnessed a surge in studies on local resistance
in the context of international peacebuilding. Despite this, the concept of
resistance lacks a clear-cut definition. Resistance can be viewed as the
exercise of individual or collective agency in refusal or opposition to
actions by the dominant actors that the dominated perceive as under-
mining or ignoring their interests. Resistance can be expressed through
language, ethnic mobilization, communication, art, drama, humor and
music. As Routledge points out,
Resistances are assembled out of the materials and practices of everyday

life and imply some form of contestation, some juxtaposition of forces
involving all or any of the following: symbolic meanings, communicative
processes, political discourses, religious idioms, cultural practices, social
networks, physical settings, bodily practices and envisioned desires and
hopes. (1997: 361)
Individuals or groups of citizens, in this sense, may engage in overt and

confrontational forms of resistance, such as demonstrations or ‘hidden’
resistance which often exist in the non-official realm (Scott 1985, 1990) or
both. Scott has analyzed and theorized relations of domination and resis-
tance, which highlights ‘everyday resistance’ of the weak against the strong
(Scott 1985, 1990, 1989). As de Certeau (1984) has argued, subordinate
groups or individuals often engage in tactical practices in their everyday life

as a form of resistance to domination. He considers tactics as everyday
activities including walking and interacting, for instance, in the city.
Scott (1985) critiques social analysis on resistance for being limited to
the obvious such as large-scale, organized protest movements that often
were perceived as threats to the state, making the peasants’ resistance
invisible. Furthermore, he has proposed the concepts of public transcript
and hidden transcript in order to elaborate his argument. The idea of public
transcript relates to the aspect of domination that is obvious, that is, the
open, public ‘interaction between subordinates and those who dominate’
(Scott 1990: 2). He considers the public transcript to be ‘highly partisan’
since the dominators have the power to control it and compel performance
from the dominated. The public transcript is ‘designed to be impressive, to
affirm and naturalize the power of dominant elites, and to conceal or
euphemize the dirty linen of their ruler’ (Scott 1990: 18). Scott further
points out that the public transcript of domination comprises ‘a domain of
material appropriation (for example, of labor, grain, taxes), a domain of
public mastery and subordination (for example, rituals of hierarchy, defer-
ence, speech, punishment, and humiliation and [ . . . ] a domain of ideolo-
gical justification of inequalities (for example, the public religious and
political world view of the dominant elite)’ (1990: 111). In contrast, the
hidden transcript comprises of ‘the offstage responses and rejoinders to that
public transcript’ (Scott 1990: 111). By concealing the resistant nature of
their activities, the dominated can protect themselves from the powerful.
He then introduces the concept of ‘infrapolitics’ as ‘[ . . . ] the circumspect
struggle waged daily by subordinate groups is, like infrared rays, beyond the
visible end of the spectrum’ (Scott 1990: 183). In this sense, the concept
refers to hidden everyday forms of resistance that subordinate groups wage
against the dominant elite and its invisibility is ‘a tactical choice born of
prudent awareness of the balance of power’ (Scott 1990: 183).
The ‘small arsenals’ for the less powerful include the seemingly ordinary
practices, such as ‘foot-dragging, dissimulations, false compliance, feigned
ignorance, desertion, pilfering, smuggling, poaching, arson, slander, sabo-
tage, surreptitious assault and murder, anonymous threats, and so on’
(Scott 1989: 34). Such activities are regarded as ‘everyday’ due to their
ordinary nature (appear to be survival or coping mechanisms) and if taken
at face value it is hard to tell that they are forms of resistance against
domination. Scott points out that everyday resistance can be interpreted as
‘a stratagem deployed by a weaker party in thwarting the claims of an
institutional or class opponent who dominates the public exercise of power’

(1989: 52, emphasis not mine). Informal assemblages such as the local
community, informal market, the workplace, public transport and secret
societies bushes ‘provide both a structure and a cover for resistance’ and as
such, are spaces for infrapolitical activities (Scott 1990: 200). Scott con-
siders infrapolitics as real politics – politics in which ‘counterhegemonic
discourse is elaborated’ (1990: 200). For infrapolitics to be identified,
according to Scott, then it is essential to juxtapose the hidden and public
transcripts. Insights from Scott’s theory such as ‘hidden transcripts’, ‘pub-
lic transcript’, ‘everyday forms of resistance’ and ‘infrapolitics’ can be
useful in understanding local agency and contextual responses to contem-
porary peace support operations.
Questions have been raised on whether for an action to be called a form
of resistance it should be recognized by others or not, and whether it is the
actor’s intention or motivation that matters. In this regard, an act of
resistance is usually viewed as a deliberate and meaningful act that seeks
to ‘oppose or undermine the constraining pressure, which restricts the
ability of the ordinary people to live, function, work or play as they see fit’
(Chabal 2014: xvi). As such, Western political theory tends to locate such
resistance in the formal political actions (e.g. strikes, petitions and pro-
tests) of those who suffer from domination (Chabal 2014). Yet, as Chabal
(2014) has rightly pointed out, in the context of Africa, since the exercise
of power is to a larger extent informal, in order for us to understand what
resistance is, it is crucial to turn to the informal realm. As noted earlier,
Scott’s discussion of peasants’ everyday forms resistance against the
powerful show that resistance is not limited to the formal realm as it can
be less organized and hidden, which means that an action does not
necessarily have to be recognized for it to be called resistance.
Understanding resistance is crucial in determining the success or failure
of international peacebuilding. Local resistance in international peace-
building should be understood as the exercise of individual or collective
agency in refusal or opposition to externally-led post-conflict peacebuild-
ing practices that the locals perceive as undermining or ignoring their
interests. If properly understood and worked with, it can be useful for
peacebuilding. It can help in showing that ordinary people in post-conflict
situations are not merely passive objects of international peacebuilding,
but also active agents involved in shaping the peacebuilding process.
Moreover, writing about resistance is crucial in helping support emanci-
patory forms of peace.
As noted earlier, international peacebuilding relies on the exercise of

power in its expression of what counts as proper order and acceptable
forms of political organization and in its reaction to ‘disorder’ and non-
conformity – this can be through conditionality or force or sanctions. In
this sense, international peacebuilding is a form of domination. While
power and hierarchy exist in peacebuilding (Curtis 2012), as Sharp et al.
(2000: 7) have observed, ‘domination is no way complete or secure’ since
people may resist it since the dominated will always seek alternative spaces
the dominant group want to erase. Recent empirical research has shown
that in response to prescriptions from external actors on how to build
peace, individual and social groups express agency in various ways, influ-
encing the outcome of international peacebuilding projects. Faced with
paradoxes and contradictions in the liberal peace, various local actors have
‘often evaded, critiqued, reshaped . . . driven [international peacebuilding
approaches] in unexpected directions’ (Shaw and Waldorf 2010: 3) and in
the process, this has led to their hybridization. Moreover, some local
actors quickly adapt to the changing post-conflict political environment,
reinvent themselves or accommodate themselves to the new environment.
This, according to Richmond, ‘might herald a more realistic recognition
of the possibilities of, and dynamics of, contextual and local peacebuilding
agencies within international peacebuilding, development, and institu-
tional architecture and policies’ (Richmond 2010b: 668).
Hybridity and hybrid forms of peace emerging in post-conflict situa-
tions are an outcome of the constraints that the liberal peace project faces
in such situations, and its failure to deliver on its promises, which, as noted
in the previous chapter, has left host societies disappointed. It is argued
that hybrid forms of peace emerging in post-conflict settings could be
more inclusive than the liberal peace and might gain legitimacy from a
wide range of domestic actors in such societies. Indeed, departing from
the liberal peace to hybrid peace, and paying attention to ‘locality’ (Shaw
and Waldorf 2010), allows not only for a locally grounded analysis that
enables us to bring out other forms of peacebuilding that are important in
contributing to the establishment of self-sustaining peace in post-conflict
societies but also an understanding of how local social forces are shaping
international peace initiatives, thus helping us to understand the dynamics
of post-conflict societies. This in turn calls for the need to deconstruct or
reform oppressive structures and institutions as well as behaviors, and then
construct and emphasize those that are capable of promoting lasting
peace. Such a call also requires scholars to go beyond analyzing power
relations between international and local actors, examining the power

relations existing between local actors that may play a role in helping
shape ‘peace’ in post-war societies.
Discussions on power, agency and resistance in the context of interna-
tional peacebuilding in post-conflict situations have placed much emphasis
on the interactions and power relations between international and local
actors, and the hybrid forms of peace that emerge. As Ortner has argued,
there ‘is never single, unitary, subordinate, if only in the sense that subaltern
groups are internally divided by age, gender, status, and other forms of
difference and that occupants of differing subject positions will have differ-
ent, even opposed, but still legitimate, perspectives on the situation’ (1995:
175). It is crucial to consider this when studying resistance in the context of
international peacebuilding since resistors also have their own politics and
pursue their own vested interests which can be conflictual and can also
influence the nature of peace that is being produced. Violent conflicts in
Africa, for instance, have largely been attributed to issues related to unequal
power relations and abuse of power among locals. Moreover, analyzing local
power dynamics helps us to understand the local context as well as whether
the hybrid forms of peace that are being produced are positive or not.
CONCEPTUALIZING HYBRIDITY
Mac Ginty (2011: 8) has defined hybridity as ‘the composite forms of social
thinking and practice that emerge as the result of the interaction of different
groups, practices, and worldviews’. The concept of ‘hybrid’ is not new.
Young (1995) traces its origins to biology and botany. He notes that in
Latin, it referred to the progeny of a tame sow and wild boar and for human
beings, a progeny of human parents of different races. The 1828 Webster’s
Dictionary (cited in Young 1995: 6) defined hybrid as ‘a mongrel or mule;
an animal or plant, produced from the mixture of two species’. In the
eighteenth century, colonialism and population displacement in countries
such as the USA, UK and France led to interracial contact, resulting in new
debates on the notion of hybridity (Kraidy 2002). Hybridity, during this
period, was viewed negatively since there was a general fear in the West that
the other races they encountered and colonized would pollute them.
Adherents of white supremacist ideologies often invoked biology to justify
such ideologies and warned against the dangers of inter-breeding across
races, termed ‘miscegenation’ and ‘amalgamation’ (Kraidy 2002). Scottish
anatomist, surgeon and zoologist, Robert Knox (1850) argued, ‘the hybrid
was a degradation of humanity and was rejected by nature’ (cited in Young

1995: 15). Although Knox and others paid attention to hybridity as it related
to interracial breeding and the negative connotations of this, hybridity
during this period was not limited to this form of interaction. It existed on
the commercial farms, mines and even in colonial administration. For
instance, the British form of indirect rule produced a British-local hybrid
form of governance in former British colonies including Sierra Leone. Since
the colonial state had no local legitimacy and acceptance, it had to co-opt
traditional authorities (see, e.g., Ranger 1983). For instance, in Sierra
Leone, in order for the colonial government (based in Freetown, the then
British colony) to extend its authority in the hinterland, the colonial admin-
istrators adopted a policy of indirect rule which allowed traditional leaders
designated ‘Paramount Chiefs’ to rule their followers using ‘native custom’
and ‘native law’ under the supervision of a British District Commissioner
(Alie 1990). For some critics, this produced a negative hybridity as the co-
opted chiefs ended up acting as its agents, thus administering and controlling
the locals, and as noted in Chapter 2, producing a form of power, which
Mamdani (1996) has called ‘decentralized despotism’. The local population
became subjected to authoritarian rule from the chiefs who now enjoyed
state recognized authority. For instance, chiefs used coercive measures to
collect tax from their followers and to recruit them as farm and mine
laborers.
In recent years, the concept of hybridity has been widely used and
applied in a variety of ways in cultural studies, literary theory and criticism,
anthropology, communication studies, political science (for instance, the
study of hybrid political regimes), post-colonial studies, and more recently
in peace studies and International Relations. In post-colonial studies,
hybridity has become a central theoretical concept in debates on culture
and identity formation. It is celebrated as evidence of the resilience of the
colonized (Bhabha 1994) and ‘as the contamination of imperial ideology,
aesthetics, and identity, by the natives who are striking back at imperial
domination’ (Kraidy 2002: 319). Bhabha asserts that in the colonial
situation the indigenous people who encountered the colonizers found
themselves caught in between two cultures, theirs and that which the
colonizer had imposed on them and as the natives continually negotiated,
resisted, undermined and re-appropriated the dominant colonial culture in
their struggle for survival, new cultural forms and practices emerged, that
is, hybrid cultures (Bhabha 1994). Bhabha observes that the hybridity that
resulted from the interactions between the colonizers and the colonized
reflected mutual dependency between them in the construction of a

shared culture. Such theories show that hybridity is a positive force that
resists homogenizing ideologies because it creates space in which the
agency of the subordinated can be expressed. Furthermore, it is argued
that it creates space of inclusivity. Through their questioning of the notion
of a monolithic identity and invoking the notion of hybridity post-colo-
nialists have been able to focus on the marginalized and their agency.
The concept of hybridity has been used with much controversy. As
Kraidy (2002: 320) states, it is ‘conceptually ambiguous and controversy
surrounds its meanings and implications’. Kraidy contends that ‘While
some see hybridity as a site of democratic struggle and resistance against
empire, others have attacked it as a neo-colonial discourse complicit with
transnational capitalism [ . . . ]’ and also that ‘the concept reflects the life of
its theorists more than the sites and communities these theorists write
about’ (2002: 316). Frello has spelt out the danger of celebrating hybrid-
ity as it can be ‘potentially oppressing’ since if done uncritically, it may
work in favor of the powerful by ‘hiding unequal power relations, rather
than undermining or criticizing them’ (2007: 4). In this way, hybridity
can be seen as a negative development and as such, an uncritical theoriza-
tion of it can be blind to existing unequal power relations. For Pieterse
(1993), it is crucial to pay attention to relations of power and domination
that may be inscribed and reproduced within hybridity. He further asserts
that, in this case, ‘hybridity raises the question of the terms of mixture, and
the conditions of mixing and melange. At the same time it is important to
note the ways in which hegemony is not merely reproduced but refigured
in the process of hybridization’ (Pieterse 1993: 11, emphasis original).
These critiques of hybridity point out the need to recognize and analyze
internal politics, difference and how power is exercised in situations of
hybridity and their impact in generating positive hybridity. As such, the
critiques are crucial in helping us identify aspects of hybridity that can
contribute to durable and sustainable peace.
LIBERAL PEACEBUILDING AS NEO-COLONIAL

OR NEO-IMPERIAL?
Given that the liberal peace is engaging the non-liberal other in a dominant
way, one would understand why some critical scholars have concluded
that liberal peacebuilding is a form of neo-colonialism or neo-imperialism.
For instance, Roberts (2008: 64) views liberal statebuilding and peacebuild-
ing as a ‘post-Cold War neo-imperial agenda of intervention’ in which states
in post-conflict environments are being built in the image of the West. For
Roberts, such an approach which is invasive and imperial has failed and will
continue to fail as long as there is a failure to recognize and understand that
‘transitional impositions of democratic practice cannot be substitute for or
replace, in the short-term, political behaviours derived from needs, experi-
ences, histories and evolutions quite different from those from which
Western democracy is derived’ (2008: 64). Similarly, Darby (2009) using a
post-colonial critique of liberal peacebuilding notes that it is a colonial
enterprise that marginalizes the experiences, approaches and understandings
of non-Western societies and does not connect with their everyday lives.
Paris’s (2009) response is that while there were echoes of European
colonialism in other parts of the world during the nineteenth century, in
current peacebuilding operations, comparisons of modern peacebuilding
and European colonialism should be limited. He further notes that,
although liberal peacebuilding and European colonialism share the idea
of refashioning of domestic structures of weaker societies with the inten-
tion of achieving a greater ‘good’ – civilization for nineteenth-century
European colonialism and ‘good governance’ in the form of a liberal
market democracy – they differ in four important respects: (1) the primary
motive of the practice of colonialism was to benefit the colonizing state at
the expense of colonized societies (for instance, through cheap labor and
the extraction of material resources from them), whereas in the case of
liberal peacebuilding resources flow from international actors to war-torn
societies8; (2) liberal peacebuilding support operations are multilateral
involving a wide range of actors, international and local; however, this
was not the case with colonialism which was primarily carried out by
individual colonial states for their own benefit; (3) Europe’s imperial states
often perceived overseas colonies as their permanent possessions until the
latest stages of colonialism, whereas, post-Cold War peacebuilding mis-
sions are not permanent and aim at establishing necessary conditions for
effective governance in the host-countries; and (4) the practice of coloni-
alism was grounded in ideologies of racial superiority; however, this is not
the case with liberal peacebuilding (Paris 2009). Paris thus argues that
equating liberal peacebuilding with colonialism or imperialism is not only
an exaggeration but it ‘implicitly (or explicitly) discredits and delegiti-
mizes peacebuilding by framing it as an exploitative, destructive and
disreputable form of international intervention’ (2009: 102).
However, as Darby argues, as long as peacebuilding initiatives are

determined from ‘above and outside’, they are ‘cast in the mould of
colonialism’ (2009: 701). In other words, while the practice of interna-
tional peacebuilding is not grounded in ideologies of racial superiority, it is
grounded in the idea of the superiority of the liberal peace over other
forms of peace, especially, local ones. Communities in Africa, for instance,
are rarely consulted about what kind of politics or state they want and as
such, are being presented with no choice, but the liberal peace. This
assumes a priori that this is what they want, thus ends up looking like a
colonial project. As Richmond argues, ‘The whole apparatus of peace is
sometimes colonial and racist in that it implies the transference of enligh-
tened knowledge to those who lack the capacity or morality to attain such
knowledge themselves’ (2005: 2004). Moreover, as pointed out earlier,
the liberal peace project has failed to achieve its aims including a demo-
cratic setting in which people’s welfare and human rights are promoted. As
such, it does not look like a very humanitarian practice, but as something
that has been designed to recreate colonialism.
However, this should not be interpreted as implying that the primary
motive for liberal peacebuilding is colonialism. The point here is that just
as during the colonial era, the dominant assumption is that Western
knowledge and political organization are more advanced than those of
non-Europeans. And even where they claim to be working in partnership
with state elites in host-countries, their approach to ‘good governance’
(and their idea of partnership) is through direct, hands-on intervention. In
this regard, Western forms of governance are seen as the norm and as such,
for the internationals, it is essential to ensure that the host-countries do
not deviate from the norm.
Similar criticisms have been given in the area of development in which
post- and anti-development scholars have noted that there is a continuity
between the current Western assumptions about universal validity of
modern Western science and knowledge, and those of the colonial past
(Escobar 1995; Esteva 1992). Development, as Escobar argues, has been
‘the primary mechanism through which the Third World has been ima-
gined and imagined itself, thus marginalizing or precluding other ways of
seeing and doing’ (1995: 212). For Escobar, since the end of World War
II, development has been a powerful tool for the production and manage-
ment of the non-Western world. Development is perceived as a means to
modernize, urbanize, promote industrial growth and agricultural moder-
nization in the less-developed world; however, it has ‘proceeded by
creating abnormalities (“the power”, “the malnourished”, “the illiterate”,

“pregnant women”, “the landless”) which it would then treat or reform’
(Escobar 1995: 214). In this regard, ‘development experts’ from the West
who go to the developing or underdeveloped world to deal with the
‘abnormalities’ tend to offer solutions to these problems using Western
lenses with alternatives, local voices and other ways of knowing often
being marginalized. For Escobar, development approaches have uncriti-
cally transferred modern Western science, technology and knowledge
from the West to the South as a means to end problems in the South;
however, this has ended up ‘multiplying them indefinitely’ (1995: 217).
Similarly, Duffield views development as ‘a liberal design of power’
which ‘always acts in the name of protecting and bettering life’ (2007a:
232, 2007b). He further notes that ‘within the post-Cold War develop-
ment discourse, the civilized/barbarous dichotomy has been realized in
terms of humanitarian differences between effective and ineffective states’
(2007a: 236, emphasis not mine). As noted in Chapter 3, ineffective states
do not have the capacity to protect and improve the lives of their citizens.
In response to this, the international community has adopted the respon-
sibility to protect doctrine as a means to protect the lives and human
security of citizens of such states. In the name of partnership, NGOs and
leading states personnel have become heavily involved in the work of key
government departments and institutions, and have become part of the
state. Thus for Duffield, ‘Development is the essence of a specifically
liberal imperial urge. It embodies the experience of life that is culturally
unfamiliar as provisional and incomplete, and consequently in need of
external tutelage to induce self-completion’ (2007a: 241, emphasis not
mine).
For instance, in 2010, nine years after the official end of the civil war in
Sierra Leone, a BBC reporter Allan Little reported that British govern-
ment officials were still directly involved in governing the state of Sierra
Leone. According to him, the British influence in Sierra Leone is far much
greater than since the end of British colonial rule in the country: ‘British
government officials sit in the main offices of [the] state [of Sierra Leone] –
monitoring what the ministers do, supervising, scrutinising, guiding the
country toward European-style good governance’ (Little 2010). He cited
Valnora Edwin9 of a local Sierra Leone NGO, Campaign for Good
Governance (CGG) commenting that an inside source had told her that
‘when other donor partners are coming, they need clearance from DFID
[the UK Department for International Development] or the UK before
they do x and y, and everywhere you go, there’s a British person’ (2010).
While critics call this form of intervention intrusive and neo-colonial, the
British government, state elites and mainstream scholars view it as a social
mission, a form of partnership aimed at ‘planting the seeds of progress’ in
Sierra Leone (Little 2010). Yet, as will be discussed in Chapter 7, over a
decade of ‘peace’ in Sierra Leone has not done much to deal with high
poverty and unemployment rates as well as high child and adult mortality
across the country.
Chandler (2006a) has argued that external support operations, such as
the case of the British government’s intervention in Sierra Leone, can have
negative effects such as creating a dependency syndrome, the weakening of
politics at both national and local levels which could further diminish the
political autonomy and capacity for self-rule, and also creates challenges
for state elites to establish broad legitimacy among ordinary citizens.
Without self-governance, the state has no legitimacy and also will not
function independently, thus will remain weak and cannot deal with
post-conflict (and even pre-conflict) challenges including socio-political
divisions, unemployment and poverty (Chandler 2006a). This form of
external intervention leads to what Chandler calls ‘peace without politics’
in which the creation of liberal democratic institutions is not grounded in
domestic politics (2006b).
If liberal peacebuilding is to be ‘saved’, it ought to be saved from its
‘cheer leaders’ who offer prescriptive strategies without a critical reflection
on their viability and acceptability in post-conflict environments and have
witnessed local resistance to them. While the liberal peace model has
worked well in the West, it is crucial to question whether transplanting it
wholesale to non-Western societies with different cultural and historical
backgrounds from it will work. In fact, war-torn societies need to be
‘saved’ from problem-solving approaches that are biased toward these
societies and ignore local agency, capacities for peacemaking, order and
recovery. It is crucial for the locals’ voices to be heard, since as insiders,
locals possess a number of resources – linguistic, cultural and historical –
that external actors lack, and such resources play a vital role in helping
understand the underlying causes of conflict as well as finding solutions
that contribute to sustainable peace (see Lederach 1997; Donais 2009,
2012). At the same time, it is crucial to be aware that there are various
claims to local ownership in post-conflict environments and how these
claims can be dealt with in ways that do not recreate the conditions for a
violent conflict.
CONCLUSION
This chapter has provided an overview of the liberal peace debate. Liberal
peace debate relates to the discussion in the relevant literature on the
theory and practice of external intervention in post-war societies by inter-
national actors. Liberal peacebuilding initiatives in post-war societies have
generated debates and controversies within the academic and policy circles
on their nature, legitimacy and effectiveness, what causes peace, the nature
of peace to be built, the owner(s) of the peace and how the international
actors should relate with local actors. In addition, questions have been
raised regarding the assumptions, strategies, viability and coherence of
international peacebuilding initiatives.
While the critical voices on the liberal peace cannot be grouped in a single
category, it is now widely acknowledged that the dominant liberal peace
model is in crisis and that on the whole, international peacebuilding has not
achieved the intended goal of helping war-torn societies transform from states
of violent conflict to self-sustaining peace and economic development. Yet,
the debate over the liberal peace reflects a polarization between those who
would want to see the liberal peace made better – those who take a problem-
solving approach – and cannot see ‘realistic’ alternatives outside it, thus would
prefer a search for alternatives within the liberal peace itself, and those who
have subjected it to critical scrutiny questioning its viability, appropriateness
and legitimacy, with some suggesting a ‘post liberal’/hybrid forms of peace
model, which takes the local into account – those who take a critical approach.
Concurring with critical scholars, I have argued that it is vital for contempor-
ary peacebuilders to more seriously consider the local context and needs, and
the forms of peace that are being produced as ‘the local’ and the international
interact, if lasting peace is going to be established in post-conflict situations.
NOTES
1. This study adopts Simmons et al.’s (2008: 2) use of the concept political
liberalism to refer to policies aimed at reducing ‘government constraints on
political behavior, promote free political exchange, and establish rights to
political participation: “democratization”’, and economic liberalism to refer
to ‘policies that reduce government constraints on economic behavior and
thereby promote economic exchange: marketization’.
2. Chua (2004) has also shown that there is a link between democratization
and market liberalization, on one hand, and an increase in ethnic violence
and instability, on the other hand. For Chua, where an ethnic minority
group dominates, the simultaneous introduction of democratization and

free markets exacerbate minority grip on the economy while democratiza-
tion provides an opportunity for the poor who are in the majority to express
their resentment against those ethnic minority groups who dominate the
market.
3. Violence associated with elections in Kenya (2007), Zimbabwe (2008),
Ivory Coast (2010) and northern Nigeria (2011) have also shown that
elections can be highly destabilizing in highly polarized societies.
4. Recent research in the Pacific Islands region – Bougainville (Boege 2010),
Timo Leste and the Solomon Islands (Richmond 2011a), and Vanuatu
(Brown and Nolan 2008) – shows the effectiveness of customary institutions
in conflict resolution and peacebuilding.
5. In Sierra Leone, the term ‘local court’ is sometimes used interchangeably
with the term ‘native court’ and these courts are located within chiefdoms.
Up to 80 per cent of Sierra Leoneans fall under the jurisdiction of customary
laws (Alie 2008).
6. For a critique of Paris’ ‘saving liberal peacebuilding’ argument, see Cooper
et al. (2011).
7. For an interesting discussion on motivations for local resistance to interna-
tional peacebuilding, see Lee (2015).
8. It is crucial to investigate how much is coming out of these societies with the
introduction of open markets, particularly, resource-rich countries like
Sierra Leone and the DRC.
9. Allan Little cites the respondent’s name as Valnora Jones, however, her
correct name is Valnora Edwin. I have changed the name with her consent.
CHAPTER 5
Power, Resistance and Hybridity

in International Peacebuilding
Hybridity, power and resistance are increasingly becoming key concepts in

the empirical study of contemporary peacebuilding and statebuilding. In
this book, hybridity is employed as a conceptual approach in understand-
ing the dynamics in post-conflict Sierra Leone in the context of liberal
peacebuilding. Although the idea of the liberal peace has been central to
post-Cold War peace support operations in Africa, very little empirical
work has been done on the types of hybrid peace that are produced as the
liberal peace and local cultural, political and social forces interact, and in
relation to the power relations between various local actors in the context
of international peacebuilding. This helps us to understand the usefulness
of the different forms of hybrid peace that have emerged or are emerging
in post-war states in contributing to sustainable peace. Since not all forms
of hybridity and resistance create conditions for durable and sustainable
peace, it is crucial to distinguish forms of hybridity and resistance that are
useful in promoting emancipation from those that do not change people’s
circumstances – those that are futile, regressive or an accommodation with
power. This is also vital in helping us understand the form and quality of
peace that is being produced in post-conflict environments that are experi-
encing liberal peacebuilding. This chapter adopts the concepts of power,
resistance and hybridity as way of understanding hybrid forms of peace
that are emerging post-war Sierra Leone, and their usefulness in the
country, and the agency of local actors in peacebuilding.

DOI 10.1057/978-1-137-57291-2_5
A SEARCH FOR ALTERNATIVES

In response to the ‘crisis’ of the liberal peace and stressing the significance
of local agency in influencing peacebuilding outcomes, a number of
influential critics and academics have sought to seek potential alternatives
to the liberal peace model. Such critical scholars have shifted attention
from merely critiquing the liberal peace in terms of its inherent contra-
dictions, the practical challenges of liberal peace-oriented support
operations and the ideologies underpinning them, as well as finding
ways of ‘saving the liberal peace’ to examine local and contextual responses
to liberal peacebuilding and the forms of peace that are emerging. Scholars
like Paris (2010) who have argued for the need to save liberal peace-
building have failed to see or think beyond the liberal peace framework.
Rather, as noted in Chapter 4, they have proposed the need to build the
capacity of institutions of the central state, as in Paris’ IBL strategy (Paris
2004). This is despite Paris’ earlier observation that international peace-
building appears ‘to represent an updated version of the mission civilisa-
trice, or a colonial-era notion that “advanced” states of Europe had a
moral responsibility to “civilize” the indigenous societies that they were
colonizing’ (2002: 651). This, of course, has resulted in international
peacebuilders seeing war-torn societies in terms of how they see them-
selves (Paris 1997). In his IBL approach and the ‘saving liberal peace-
building’ argument, Paris locates agency with the West, and not the
people in post-conflict environments. In ‘Bringing the Leviathan Back
In: Classical Versus Contemporary Studies of the Liberal Peace’, Paris
(2006) shows a nostalgic feeling of the classical liberals, sidelining local
agency. This exposes Paris and other mainstream scholars for their
Eurocentric biases since they see the West as the sole producer of peace
and the liberal peace as the only viable peace.
The failure of mainstream scholars such as Paris to think beyond the liberal
peace framework itself and their call to think within it could be a result of the
hegemonic nature of the liberal peace, Eurocentric biases and the commit-
ment to problem-solving approaches. However, Eurocentric biases have often
resulted in the historical experiences of people in the periphery being perceived
in categories that originate in the super power politics in the Global North
(Barkawi and Laffey 2006) and their treatment as objects and not subjects,
thus negating their agency. This failure to see most people in post-conflict
environments as subjects has often brought unintended consequences in such
environments including the failure to adequately respond to their demands,
5 POWER, RESISTANCE AND HYBRIDITY IN INTERNATIONAL PEACEBUILDING 107
needs and interests, hence the need for an empirical study of post-conflict
societies helps to come up with a deeper understanding of realities on the
ground and identifying the forms of peace that are emerging which may or
may not lead to durable peace in these societies.
Based on recent experiences of liberal peacebuilding and statebuilding
in post-conflict societies, some critical scholars have suggested the need to
pay attention to the dynamics and resilience of local politics and their
relationship to external intervention, that is, local and contextual
responses (at various levels – elite and grassroots) to the liberal peace
project (Richmond 2010c, 2011b; Heathershaw and Lambach 2008).
Critical scholars who have thrown a stern rebuttal to the claim that
‘there are no viable alternatives’, in their search for alternatives, have
noted the need to think of peace support operations, for instance, in
terms of hybridity (Richmond 2011b, 2009; Mac Ginty 2011) and also
to think of them normatively in terms of welfare (Pugh 2009), empathy
and care, as well as empirically in terms of ‘the everyday’ (Richmond
2009a, b, 2011b). Such scholars have analyzed the ‘new’ distinctive
forms of peace and politics that are neither liberal nor ‘local’ that are
produced as the liberal peace and the ‘local’ interact, that is, hybrid
forms of peace and hybrid political orders. In such debates, the ‘local’
including customary institutions, knowledge and practices, tribes,
traditional authorities, religious groups and elders is viewed as not only
important but essential in contributing to the production and promotion
of durable and sustainable peace in post-war situations.
Richmond (2009a), for instance, has shown an interest in the possibilities
of drawing upon resistance and the everyday of those individuals in the host-
communities taking note of the hybridity that emerge as the ‘local’ and the
international interact, resist, tolerate and accept each other. Similarly,
Heathershaw and Lambach (2008) have dismissed the view that post-conflict
environments are just objects of international involvement and have suggested
the need to consider them as spaces in which various agency emerge – where
international and local actors re-appropriate, appropriate, accept, hybridize,
subvert, resist and co-opt peacebuilding or statebuilding initiatives to suit their
own interests and needs, some of which may be at odds with the intended
objectives of the liberal internationals. As Heathershaw and Lambach have
highlighted, post-conflict spaces should be understood as ‘fields of power
where sovereignty is constantly contested and negotiated among global,
elite and local actors’ (2008: 269). This implies that there is no full absorption
of international peacebuilding and statebuilding in post-conflict societies, but
get mixed with local forms of peacemaking. Thus, these local responses and
reactions result from vested interests among various local actors. These local
actors develop ‘tactics’ aimed at promoting their interests and needs, in
response to the liberal peacebuilding and statebuilding strategies that have
seen powerful external actors attempting to create the liberal state, (neo)liberal
economics and liberal forms of governance in such societies.1
As this emerging critical literature points out, these responses and reac-
tions on the ground may lead to hybridized forms of peace (Richmond
2011b, a; Richmond and Mitchell 2011; Mac Ginty 2011). This, according
to Richmond (2011b), might be called a ‘post-liberal peace’, which high-
lights the mutual dependency between the internationals and the locals in
constructing peace in societies that are going through transition. Such work
on hybrid peace reflects a growing interest in understanding the local
context including local perspectives and dimensions of peace in the context
of international peacebuilding – what has been called the ‘rediscovery of the
local’ (Mac Ginty 2015) or the ‘local turn’ in peacebuilding (Mac Ginty and
Richmond 2013). This shift is also reflected in recent international policy
documents which attempt to look at how international donors need to
modify their approaches in fragile and conflict-affected states.
The 2009 report of the UN Secretary-General on Peacebuilding in the
Immediate Aftermath of Conflict states that national ownership and a context-
specific approach to peacebuilding are essential for building sustainable peace
in societies emerging from violent conflict: ‘Only national actors can address
their society’s needs and goals in a sustainable way. The imperative of national
ownership is a central theme of the present report, as are the unique challenges
we encounter arising from the specific context of early post-conflict situations’
(UN Secretary-General 2009: 4, para. 7). The OECD (2011), Supporting
Statebuilding in Situations of Conflict and Fragility: Policy Guidance argues
that statebuilding is a deeply political process and as such, if international
support is to help produce positive outcomes it is crucial to understand the
local context in situations of fragility and conflict. This includes paying greater
attention to the complex power dynamics in such situations. Furthermore,
in 2011 the World Bank published a report, Conflict, Security and
Development, which examines the relationship between conflict, development
and security in post-war states. It is mainly concerned with identifying
effective ways in which international interventions should focus on long-
term institutional transformation that is crucial in promoting security and
development. The report argues that a ‘mixture of state and nonstate
bottom-up and top-down approaches is a better underpinning for
longer-term institutional transformation’ (World Bank 2011: 19).

It also places emphasis on ‘citizen security, justice and jobs’ over, for
example, rapid democratization and privatization, a significant shift
from its standard approach to development that includes an emphasis
on rapid democratization and privatization, which as noted in the pre-
vious chapters has had destabilizing effects in countries emerging
from violent conflict. The report also talks of the social contract
(World Bank 2011: 125). Based on its experience in fragile and post-
conflict environments, in 2012 the UNDP published the report
Governance for Peace: Securing the Social Contract which puts social
contract into the center linking it with peacebuilding and governance.
As for the UNDP, ‘Supporting the social contract provides an over-
arching objective that brings together governance and peacebuilding
priorities to ensure more effective coordination across diverse program-
matic areas’ (UNDP 2012: 37). Following the publication of the
Governance for Peace report, in January 2014, the UNDP hosted an
experts meeting on ‘Shaping the State through the Social Contract in
Situations of Conflict and Fragility’ aimed at clarifying the principles of
the social contract approach, and providing an understanding on how
the UNDP can best put this approach into use in its work in fragile and
conflict-affected contexts. More recently (April 2016), as part of the
follow up to the 2012 UNDP report, Governance for Peace: Securing the
Social Contract, the UNDP published a concept note, Engaged Societies,
Responsive: The Social Contract in Situations of Conflict and Fragility,
which offers ‘both a conceptual understanding of the social contract as
well as policy implications for the UNDP projects’ (UNDP 2016: 5).
These recent international policies on responding to post-war and fragile
situations appear to indicate a growing consensus among international
donors on the significance of national ownership and the need for them
to shift toward more socially-oriented interventions in order to build
sustainable peace in such contexts. As Richmond points out, such new
policies also seem to suggest ‘a more socially oriented state and a more
contextual peace, potentially a positive hybrid peace’ (2014: 131).
While the new policies mention national ownership of peacebuilding,
statebuilding and development programs, they seem to place emphasis on
ownership by state elites paying little attention to all key domestic actors
including local grassroots advocacy groups. As such, international peacebuild-
ing interventions informed by these new policies remain top-down. Moreover,
despite the rhetoric on empowerment, national ownership and working
through partnership, the liberal peace remains the dominant or preferred

model for international peace support interventions (Joshi et al. 2014). The
emergence of scholarship focusing on the ‘local’ in recent years suggests that it
is not possible to achieve local legitimacy and also that it is difficult to build
sustainable peace in states emerging from violent conflict in the absence of
ownership on the part of the grassroots domestic actors. This work on liberal
peacebuilding and the ‘local’ has been essential in showing the important role
grassroots actors can play in ensuring sustainable post-conflict peacebuilding,
though such actors are often left out from the realms of economic, social and
political power, and marginalized in discussions of peacebuilding. Such scho-
larship has been able to identify the agency of these grassroots actors who
during conflict are not passive victims, and after conflict are not passive
recipients of international peacebuilding programs.
This book will use hybridity as a conceptual approach in understanding the
dynamics in post-conflict environments in the context of liberal peacebuilding.
Thinking of post-conflict environments as spaces where hybridized forms of
peace are emerging need to be done in the context of an understanding of
these environments as ‘contact zones’2 where international actors encounter
local ones.
Hybridity in Contemporary Peacebuilding and Statebuilding

More recently, hybridity has been used in the study and practice of
transitional justice to describe courts that have been developed in a num-
ber of settings, but more generally in post-conflict settings, such as Sierra
Leone, Kosovo and East Timor, in which international criminal courts
combine domestic and international components as in ‘hybrid domestic-
international courts’ (Dickinson 2003). For instance, in Darfur, Sudan,
the term ‘hybrid AU-UN force’ has been used in reference to the AU-UN
peacekeeping forces in the region. In peace and conflict Studies, as noted
earlier, there is an emerging literature that has invoked the concept of
hybridity to describe a process whereby the ‘local’ resists, subverts, modi-
fies or adapts to the liberal peace producing new forms of peace and
politics – hybrid peace and politics. In its simplistic notion, hybrid peace
means the coexistence of two or more forms of peace. However, as Belloni
(2012: 24) has argued, this must not be viewed as
a stable package that includes a mix of liberal and illiberal elements adapting
to each other. Rather, hybridity is best understood as a condition of tension
and even antagonism between different actors involved, some of whom

(particularly in rural areas) may even wish to subtract themselves from the
very idea of governance embodied in the state.
While this is the case, the concept of hybridity is useful in advancing the
critique of the liberal peace and also it shows that liberal peace hegemony
has declined in the process of hybridity (Mac Ginty 2011). The theory of
hybrid peace assumes that it has the power to break the dominant liberal peace
and argues that hybridity is an expression of local agency. In the literature
concepts such as ‘hybrid political orders’ (Beoge et al. 2009), ‘hybrid peace
governance’ (Belloni 2012), ‘hybrid peace ownership’ (Jarstad and Olsson
2012), ‘liberal-local hybridity’ (Richmond 2009a) and ‘local-liberal hybridity’
(Richmond 2011b) have been used. Richmond has observed the existence of
resistance to the liberal peace in post-conflict environments, such as the
Solomon Islands, Liberia, Mozambique and Timor Leste, and local agency
being expressed (Richmond 2010b). This has led to the contamination,
transgression and modification of both the international and the ‘local’ result-
ing in, for instance, ‘local-liberal’ hybrid forms of peace (Richmond 2010b).
Although Richmond uses the concept ‘contaminate’, he does not use it in the
negative sense, as was done in the eighteenth century in reference to interracial
mixing, but in a positive sense in which the agency of local actors becomes a
resistive force to the hegemony of the liberal peace resulting in forms of peace
that are a mixture of local forms of peace and the liberal peace. This defies the
purity and hegemony of the liberal peace in post-conflict environments. While
Richmond has conceptualized the forms of peace that emerge as the liberal
peace interacts with local forms of peace in terms of ‘local-liberal’ hybrid peace,
Boege et al. (2009) have argued for the need to recognize hybrid political
orders as the basis for statebuilding and peacebuilding.
On Hybrid Political Orders

Boege et al. (2008) have conceptualized fragile or failed states as hybrid
political orders. In these political orders, according to Boege et al.
(2009: 606), ‘diverse and competing claims to power and logics co-exist,
overlap and intertwine, namely the logic of the “formal” state, of traditional
“informal” social order, and of globalization and associated social fragmenta-
tion (which is present in ethnic, tribal, religious forms)’, as in East Timor,
Mozambique, Sierra Leone, Somaliland and the South Pacific Island of
Bougainville. Boege and others further assert that, in such situations, the
‘“state” does not have a privileged position as the political framework that
provides security, welfare and representation; it has to share authority, legiti-
macy and capacity with other structures’ (2009: 606). Furthermore, such
hybrid political orders differ significantly from the model of the state asso-
ciated with the West.
Particular internal logic governs hybrid political orders and empirical
evidence has shown that such political orders can be a source of stability as
in Somaliland. In situations where state and informal institutions co-exist
alongside each other, there is a tendency for them to share authority and
legitimacy. In hybrid political orders legitimacy derived from tradition and
custom interacts with legitimacy derived from legal-rational authority.
Boege et al. (2009) argue for the need to recognize the hybridity of
political orders in the context of statebuilding and peacebuilding. By
doing so, such an approach deconstructs the idea of the Western liberal
state as a crucial and superior form of political order and stability by itself.
This implies paying attention to the complexity or dynamics of domestic
processes, to local agency, local institutions and indigenous knowledge.
The idea of hybrid political orders reveals the political potential intrinsic in
hybridity. However, very little empirical work has been done to interro-
gate the usefulness and types of hybridity that are produced as the liberal
peace interacts and coexist with the ‘local’.
BELLONI’S TYPOLOGY OF HYBRID PEACE GOVERNANCE

Recently, Belloni (2012) developed a framework of hybridity and ‘hybrid
peace governance’ that places emphasis on institutional hybridity in post-
war situations. He uses the notion ‘hybrid’ to describe the interaction
between liberal and illiberal institutions, actors and norms, where such
institutions, norms and actors co-exist and even conflict. ‘Peace govern-
ance’, according to Belloni, refers to the activity of managing the hybrid
situation. In hybrid peace governance, a wide range of actors and interac-
tions shape the context, and no one actor can take and maintain a uni-
lateral action (Mac Ginty and Sanghera 2012). The multiple actors who
are part of this hybrid peace governance include state and non-state actors,
informal and formal institutions, regional authorities and international
actors. Belloni has identified three major forms of hybrid peace
governance.
The first form of hybridity that Belloni has identified involves informal
institutions, illiberal norms and practices influencing the functioning of
formal democratic institutions. In such situations, informal institutions

and traditional social networks and practices seep into formal institutions
and rule. This type of hybridity may take the form of patron–client
practices. Analysts of African politics have noted the existence of such
type of hybridity in most parts of Africa in which political elites use public
office to distribute favors, public goods and services to patrons, friends and
family in exchange of their support (see, e.g., Richards 1996; Van De
Walle 2003; Jackson and Rosberg 1984; Auyero 1999; Thomson 2000).
This form of hybridity, according to Belloni, may involve informal eco-
nomic practices having an influence of formal ones at the societal level. For
instance, corruption and the gray economies that may distort the func-
tioning of market economies, hindering the efficient allocation of goods
and services, and yet, such activities can enhance the livelihoods of the
poor and marginalized.
Belloni’s second type of hybridity involves the formal recognition and
incorporation of informal institutions and practices into the state apparatus.
For instance, in Somaliland traditional leadership institutions played a signifi-
cant role in bringing together the various clans and creating ‘a legislature and
government drawing upon Somali tradition and combining these traditional
structures with modern institutions of governance like the parliament’
(Murithi 2009: 148). Since 2002, following the passing of the presidential
Decree of 2000, Mozambique has formally recognized ‘community autho-
rities’ including chiefs, as community representatives and assistants of the state
performing various state administrative tasks at the local level in collaboration
with local state officials (Kyed and Buur 2006). Recent empirical research on
post-conflict states of the Pacific Islands region, such as Bougainville (Boege
2010), and Timo Leste and the Solomon Islands (Richmond 2011a) shows
the existence of this type of hybridity in which traditional practices have been
re-established in support of the state and local communities. In addition, in
some situations, hybrid legal systems exist due to the inclusion of customary
justice systems into the formal justice system. For example, since 2001,
the gacaca community courts have played a central role in Rwanda’s post-
genocide justice and reconciliation program. Belloni has also noted a parti-
cular form of hybridity in which international actors are included within
domestic institutions and tend to promote liberal rule systems in host socie-
ties. For instance, in Bosnia international experts are working in key local
institutions including the Central Bank and the Constitutional Court aimed at
providing more effective and transparent policy-making (Belloni 2012). In
post-conflict situations such as Sierra Leone, Timo Leste and Kosovo, where
hybrid courts have been established, international legal experts have also been
involved. At the civil society level, hybrid arrangements have also been taking
place as international experts partner with local non-governmental organiza-
tions (NGOs) ensuring that such local NGOs are developed and strengthened
along liberal lines (Belloni 2012).
The third form of hybridity, according to Belloni, involves violent state
actors and institutions dominating or ‘capturing’ liberal state institutions.
He further points out that, at times such actors may be invited to join
government as a means to ensure a stable state. For example, militia
commanders and warlords have been included in government in post-
Taliban Afghanistan. Other cases include Liberia, Sierra Leone and
Guinea-Bissau where power-sharing arrangements between governments
and contesting groups (warlords, rebels or juntas) were put in place in
order to secure peace and build democracy (Levitt 2012). Powerful actors,
such as warlords and criminal networks, may ‘capture’ state institutions
and use their resources to their own advantage.
This book intends to expand on these types of hybridity that Belloni has
offered to include a fourth type hybridity which I will call here emancipa-
tory hybridity through examining the case of Sierra Leone. In this case, the
book will examine the possibility of a type of hybridity that can lead to
social transformation or emancipation. This relates to an understanding of
hybridity which challenges not only the hegemony of the liberal peace but
also dominant local structures as well as deals with marginalization and
exclusion. This can result in the overturning of local structures of exclu-
sion or oppression as well as includes the customary, the promotion of the
rights, needs and welfare of most of the population including the politi-
cally and economically marginalized.
FROM LIBERAL PEACE TO POST-LIBERAL PEACE

Acknowledging local agency, institutions and knowledge as well as the emer-
gence of hybridity in post-conflict spaces, at the same time being aware that
the powerful have a potential to hybridize, thus continuing to dominate
the less powerful, is a step toward what Richmond (2009a) calls a ‘post-liberal
peace’ agenda in peacebuilding. The prefix post- in this context could be
interpreted as implying that the liberal peace is in the past when in reality it
continues to play a dominant role in post-conflict environments. However,
this is not the sense in which it is understood in this book. Another question
relates to whether the idea of a ‘post-liberal peace’ is not a Eurocentric critic of
the liberal peace given the absence of the voices of scholars in the global South
and also that its main proponents hail from Europe and whether this would
mean the concept ‘trans-liberal peace’ is more appropriate as it relates to
transcending the liberal peace. Although the main proponents of the notion
of ‘post-liberal peace’ come from Europe, their proposal of a post-liberal
peace is based on facts on the ground – a result of empirical research in various
post-conflict situations, such as East Timor, Liberia, Kosovo, Bosnia,
Somaliland and Pacific Islands including the Solomon Island and Tonga.
However, it is crucial for these progressive intellectuals to do more collabora-
tive research with thinkers from various post-conflict environments in the
developing world, especially in Africa where it remains under theorized.
In regard to the prefix post-, as Gianni Vattimo (1991 cited in Mazotti
2008: 100) has argued, it ‘does not always imply a temporal sequence, but
simply an oppositional practice’. In this sense, the prefix post- as in the context
of liberal peace is an indication of ‘a desire among the dominated subjects to
alter or overcome [the liberal peace] domination, and it would also recognize
that this desire generates a variety of subjective positions and agency’ (Mazotti
2008: 100). In addition, it does not negate other forms of peace and knowl-
edges, rather recognizes them and emphasizes their co-existence.
In this case, a ‘post-liberal’ peace agenda advocates a move toward new
and reconstructed approaches and strategies that allow different actors –
international, state elites and local groups – to participate in peacebuilding
and statebuilding processes in non-hegemonic ways. It also engages in pro-
cesses that are relevant to socio-political, cultural, historical and economic
experiences of the host-state. This recognizes and accepts the positive changes
or modifications that are happening on the ground as locals interact with the
internationals, resist, modify, accept, reject and tolerate international peace
initiatives in an attempt to establish peace that is relevant to their situation.
Such an agenda (as noted earlier) implies moving beyond the representation
of local populations as victims who need Western concepts of progress and
peace for them to move out of their situation, while at the same time, ignoring
or avoiding local forms of political organization and peacemaking in interna-
tional peacebuilding practice and policy. It is also a project that advocates the
liberation or emancipation of Dussel’s ‘post-colonial’ marginal (1995) or
Spivak’s ‘subaltern’ (1988) or Fanon’s ‘wretched of the earth’ (1967), who
often have been represented as victims who cannot liberate themselves out of
their situation without outside intervention.
In a nutshell, a ‘post-liberal peace’ agenda deconstructs conventional
approaches to peace- and statebuilding which explain violent conflicts,
fragile or weak statehood as ‘deficits measured in standards of modern

civilization [Western civilization] and ends up in strategies of promoting
and implementing these standards where it is (seems as) necessary’ (Meyer
2008: 569), but does not attempt to deal with the problems in relation to
the situation on the ground. It also implies the ‘possibility of a non-
Eurocentric dialogue with alterity, one that fully enables “the negation
of the negation” to which subaltern others have been subjected’ (Escobar
2004: 219). This will also help to show how marginalized or subordinated
groups who are not readily in a position to control what comes from the
dominant culture are able to determine to varying degrees what to absorb
and what not to absorb from the dominant culture into their own culture
as well as what use it is for them (Pratt 1992).
In this sense, the daily reality of peacebuilding practice ensures that the
ideas and assumptions of the liberal peace cannot exist undiluted in reality. In
addition, the existence of multiple or hybrid sovereignties,3 local approaches
to peacemaking, different cultural practices, dual authority and different ways
of understanding political organization in Africa entail that reality is different
from theory and that a state-centered approach does not provide us with a full
picture of the reality on the ground. Hence, it is crucial to move beyond blue
prints of the liberal peace which are disconnected from local realities.
This approach through detailed empirical research enables the researcher to
understand real issues, such as poverty, food insecurity, social injustice, the
everyday life, resistance, acceptance and modification of the liberal peace in
post-conflict societies. One of the goals here relates to ‘de-Westernizing social
emancipation’ (Escobar 2004: 12) or challenging the emancipatory version of
the liberal peace which views the liberal peace as the only peace that ensures
human emancipation or progress and showing that the local has a role to play
in its own emancipation or progress. In this case, there is the need for the
position that the liberal peace per se is the real peace and good for all the
people across the world to give way to the understanding that various forms of
peace exist or are possible including hybridized forms of peace which could be
appropriate for particular situations.
CONCLUSION
Emerging critiques on liberal peacebuilding have shown that the liberal peace
has never been universally embraced. Such critiques, via empirical research,
and through the use of concepts including hybridity, hybrid, resistance and
agency, have helped us to gain an understanding of the nature of peace that is
emerging or has emerged in situations where the liberal peace interacts with
the ‘local’. Hybridity is increasingly becoming a common terminology in the
study of contemporary peacebuilding in post-war societies. While the litera-
ture on hybridity has offered us insights into the existence of ‘local’ agency in
peacebuilding as well as the limits of the liberal peace, much of the literature
fails to engage with the types of hybridity that are emerging in these contexts
and their implications for durable peace. This chapter, expanding on Robert
Belloni’s typology of hybridity, has discussed different types of hybridity that
might emerge in post-conflict situations including the possibilities of hybridity
that can result in emancipation. The following chapters are case study chap-
ters, which provide an in-depth discussion of the historical background to the
conflict in Sierra Leone, and apply the concepts of power, hybridity and
resistance to explore peacebuilding in the country.
NOTES
1. On the relationship between strategy and tactics, see de Certeau (1984).
2. Mary Louise Pratt’s (1992: 6) notion of ‘contact zones’ could be useful in
the analysis of the interaction of external and local actors. She uses the
concept ‘contact zone’ to refer to ‘a space of colonial encounters, the
space in which peoples geographically and historically separated come into
contact with each other and establish ongoing relations, usually involving
conditions of coercion, radical inequality, and intractable conflict.’
3. For an overview of the concept of hybrid sovereignty, see Bacik (2008).
CHAPTER 6
The Struggle for Sierra Leone
This chapter provides a comprehensive account of the causes and evolu-

tion of the civil war in Sierra Leone. It takes a long-term historical account
of the causes of the crisis. This helps us to determine the complex factors
that contributed to the outbreak of the civil war in Sierra Leone as well as
how some of the causes of the war are connected to Sierra Leone’s past
including the intense social, economic and political polarization that the
country experienced during the colonial period, which the postcolonial
state inherited. A comprehensive account of the background to the civil
war in Sierra Leone is useful in helping us gain a more intimate under-
standing of the local context and its possible challenges to liberal peace-
building and the building of durable peace as well as the quality of peace
being produced in Sierra Leone.
This chapter argues for the need to understand the crisis in Sierra Leone
in terms of the long-term causes such as colonialism and colonial inheri-
tance, and short-term causes including state and community failure in
order to deal effectively with the situation. This chapter will first discuss
historical factors (Sierra Leone’s pre-colonial and colonial inheritance)
that laid a weak foundation for the modern state and its path to dictator-
ship, corruption, state failure, civil war and state collapse. It will then
examine scholarly debates on the immediate causes of state failure/col-
lapse and the civil war, and also offers a brief overview of the nature of the
civil war in Sierra Leone.

DOI 10.1057/978-1-137-57291-2_6
GEOGRAPHY AND A FRAGMENTED POLITY

Kurz (2010) identifies three key factors that had a role in shaping the origins
and development of the Sierra Leonean state – the divide between the center
and the periphery, the role of powerful chiefs and a fragmented polity. Political
organization and institutions in Sierra Leone, like other parts of Africa, date
back to the pre-colonial period. In addition, although large kingdoms with
highly developed political systems existed in pre-colonial Africa, including
Sierra Leone, these kingdoms were not hegemonic because low population
densities made it difficult and expensive for governments to exert political
authority to everyone within their domain. In Sierra Leone, dense tropical
forests and hills (together with a lack of transportation and communication
technologies) imposed certain constraints on the establishment of large-scale
states (Kurz 2010). Sierra Leone which consisted of 17 main ethnic groups
(including the Creole, descendants of former slaves) was a fragmented entity,
culturally and politically. The Mende from the south and east and Temne from
the north were the two largest and most dominant ethnic groups. Together,
the two ethnic groups comprised around 60 per cent of Sierra Leone’s
population, and exerted some influence over other ethnic groups living within
their domain. The ethnolinguistic groups were never (and even today are not)
politically integrated and each had its own distinctive political institutions
and culture, language, social and cultural institutions (Caulker 1981).
Furthermore, each ethnolinguistic group tended to localize political power:
‘Instead of an integrated political dominion in which political authority was in
the hands of one ruler, each ethnolinguistic group was divided into small,
independent political entities’ (Caulker 1981: 400). Due to the lack of a
unified polity in pre-colonial Sierra Leone, large political organizations similar
to the one that were formed in the West did not develop and this has had a
negative impact on state and nation formation in the country. In Sierra Leone,
the hinterland people mainly associate themselves with their chiefdoms/ethnic
groups more than the state and the rural district councils.
COLONIAL LEGACIES
Socioeconomic and Political Polarization

Sierra Leone’s colonization is a form of external intervention that saw the
British attempting to build a form of state that resembled the British
polity. This resulted in a hybrid polity that was weak, undemocratic,
6 THE STRUGGLE FOR SIERRA LEONE 121
authoritarian, and politically and socioeconomically polarized.1 With the

colonial state failing to establish durable or strong connections between
the urban center (Freetown) and its periphery (rural publics) as well as
extending its institutions into the hinterland, the chieftaincy became the
colonial’s state’s main agent of local rule from the time the British estab-
lished a British protectorate over the inhabitants of the hinterland in 1896.
British rule in Sierra Leone began in the early nineteenth century after the
British colonialists declared Freetown a crown colony for the freed slaves who
had been removed from Jamaica, Britain and Nova Scotia as well as Africans
freed from slaving ships. The new settlers became known as the Creoles. The
assumption was that freed slaves would be ‘better off in their “ancestral
homeland”’ (Cartwright 1978: 36). In 1896 the British declared the hinter-
land a protectorate. Consequently, the hinterland people became the British’s
protected people, while the Creoles who lived in the colony (Freetown) were
British subjects. Both colonial authorities and Creoles generally referred to
the protectorate people as ‘aborigines, natives, savages, naked barbarians and
many other kindred epithets’ (Kandeh 1992: 83). The Creoles who through
Europeanization held Euro-Christian values and culture regarded themselves
as more civilized and superior than the indigenous population. Indeed, the
relations between the protectorate people and the Creoles were characterized
by ‘a peculiar version of the colonial mission civilisatrice’ (Pham 2006: 70).
The Sierra Leone Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) states that
the British colonial administration promoted the idea that Western values and
Christianity were superior to religions, traditions and customs practiced in the
hinterland, leading to the discrimination of the protectorate people (2004a).
As a result, the colonial regime pursued a social engineering strategy that
divided the colony and protectorate people resulting in extreme political,
social and economic polarization in the country. A unified state could not be
created, thus effectively establishing ‘two nations in the same land’, and the
country’s division into two entities – the ‘Colony’ and the ‘Protectorate’ had
negative implications on issues including land tenure rights and citizenship as
well as conflicting laws (TRC 2004a: 5).
This colonial social engineering strategy saw the emergence of two dis-
tinct political units in which Freetown was run on modern lines, with the
Creoles being ruled under this modern system, and a protectorate that was
subjected to indirect rule via Paramount Chiefs under the supervision of a
small civilian staff (Jackson 2005). Moreover, since all mineral and agricul-
tural resources were in the protectorate, the colonial government had to
adopt strategies of co-option and coercion as a means to extract them, and
often, it preferred co-optation given the limited resources that were

available to it (Kurz 2010). Two important outcomes of this strategy
were the creation of a colony-protectorate divide in political and
economic terms that undermined nation building and the creation of
powerful chiefs, vis-à-vis, their followers. As the TRC pointed out: ‘The
Commission finds that the seeds of discontent of the late 1980s and early
1990s can be traced back to the strategies of divide and rule and the
subversion of traditional systems by the colonial power and successive
governments’ (2004b: 19).
Chiefs, Power and Local Politics

From the onset, like other colonized parts of Africa, the colonial state in
Sierra Leone had no local legitimacy and acceptance. In order for the
colonial government to extend its authority in the hinterland, the colonial
administrators adopted a policy of indirect rule which allowed traditional
leaders designated ‘Paramount Chiefs’ to rule their followers using ‘native
custom’ and ‘native law’ under the supervision of a British District
Commissioner (DC) (Pham 2006; Alie 1990; CGG, Methodist Church
Sierra Leone and Network Movement for Justice and Development 2009;
Cartwright 1978).2 The assumption among the British colonialists was
that ‘these institutions, under the guidance of the resident European DC,
would be continually developing into more efficient units of administra-
tion; responding to and adapting themselves to the new situations created
by colonial rule’ (Alie 1990: 134). Consequently, Paramount Chiefs
became subordinate to DCs who were the heads of districts and represen-
tatives of the central government.
In addition, Paramount Chiefs’ functions and powers became limited
compared to the pre-colonial period. In this new political arrangement,
the chiefdom became the basic unit of administration in the protectorate
under the rule of Paramount Chiefs, with the support of the Tribal
Authority (in post-colonial Sierra Leone this was changed to Chiefdom
Council). As the TRC notes, the DC could only grant a Paramount Chief
a degree of autonomy to rule his people, if he met the DC’s demands for
‘maintaining law and order’ in his chiefdom as well as meeting demands
for labor and taxes (TRC 2004a). As such, the chiefdom in Sierra Leone
has often been portrayed as having been ‘originally designed to harness
“native authority” to British rule’ (Fanthorpe 1998: 558).
British Consolidation of Colonial Rule and the Creation

of Powerful Chiefs
Following the British’s defeat of the inhabitants of the protectorate during
the war of 1898 that was attributed to the protectorate people’s resistance to
the British imposition of hut tax, the colonial government maintained the
position of the Paramount Chief in the protectorate. Furthermore, it main-
tained their main role of collecting taxes, maintaining law and order and
dispensing justice among the indigenous population as well as the provision
of essential services such as clinics and schools. However, the colonial
government ensured that chiefs recognized its control over the protectorate
and required them to promote its interests ahead of the interests of their
followers. This transformed the nature of chiefs’ power. Some chiefs were
deposed, with some coming into power due to British patronage, and not
popular support. As such, chiefs became very powerful vis-a-vis their fol-
lowers. For some scholars and local NGOs in Sierra Leone, chiefs could no
longer be accountable to their followers, but the colonial government
(CGG, Methodist Church Sierra Leone and Network Movement for
Justice and Development 2009; Fanthorpe 2007; Barrows 1976).
As Alie points out, since chiefs knew that they had the backing of the
colonial government, many of them became authoritarian and maltreated
their followers as well as ‘ran the Native Administration as if it was their
personal property’ (1990: 154).3 Furthermore, chiefs received financial
incentives from the colonial government as a means of making them depend-
able allies in the new system of governance. The incentives included ‘a five
per cent rebate on collection of the house tax, incidental gifts, entertainment
allowances and tributes from sub-chiefs and headmen. Economically, the
chiefs made capital of the tribute paid them in goods and services to enhance
their standing in the community’ (Alie 1990: 150). Moreover, with the
colonial government not giving much attention to the chiefs’ activities
after its consolidation of colonial rule, chiefs often appropriated tax revenue
as well as used forced labor for their own personal gain (Barrows 1976). In
addition, as Tangri notes, ‘offices and financial resources have not always
been distributed in such a way that all groups in the chiefdom might benefit
equally; the paramount chiefs and their followers have been the major
beneficiaries, and certain sections have been favoured’ (1976: 312). Since
the chiefs had support and recognition from the colonial government,
internal checks and balances that had been established during the pre-
colonial period diminished. Violence came to characterize chiefdom politics.
Violence in Chiefdoms
The colonial transformation of chiefs had a negative impact on their
relations with the followers. Since the end of 1898 Hut Tax War and the
British consolidation of colonial rule, the protectorate had never been free
from politically motivated violence. The violence that came to characterize
chiefdom politics and periodically disrupted it, has largely been attributed
to conflicts among the hinterland people themselves (Tangri 1976). Two
different explanations regarding the frequency and virulence of the vio-
lence in the chiefdoms, especially since the late 1930s, have been pro-
vided.4 Kilson (1966) attributes the conflict in the hinterland to rural
‘radicalism’. He notes that a form of rural ‘radicalism’ characterized this
conflict ‘which in some instances constituted a virtual peasant revolt
against traditional rulers and authority’ (Kilson 1966: 60). For instance,
the November 1955–March 1956 riots in the hinterland have been attrib-
uted to this rural radicalism. For Kilson, ‘a populist groundswell against
taxes resulted in great violence’ and the objects of this populist violence
were ‘all related to specific features of local administration that proved
unjust or unduly burdensome to the masses’ (1966: 188–189). Contrary
to this position, Barrows (1976) and Tangri (1976) attribute the intense
political competition among ruling house families to the violence that
came to characterize chiefdom politics.
Because of the power and economic benefits associated with the
Paramount Chieftaincy including its use as an avenue for private accumula-
tion as well as the general underdevelopment in the rural areas, the office of
the Paramount Chief became a site of intense (sometimes violent) political
competition among rival ruling houses due to the existence of a ‘zero-sum
game’ (Keen 2005). This was more pronounced in the Mende chiefdoms
since the idea of a ‘bi-polar chief’ (‘chief-opposition ruling house’) was alien
to them (Barrows 1976: 100). Unlike the Temne in the north, the practice
of rotating the chieftaincy was not common to the Mende (Barrows 1976;
Keen 2005). For the Mende chiefdoms, their openness to internal rivalries
often led the various factions forging alliance with outsiders who further
divided them, unlike other societies, such as, the Somali in Somalia where
rival clans have often closed ranks against outsiders (Barrows 1976). Often
members of a rival ruling house(s) mobilized ‘young men’ to engage in
protests and acts of violence against incumbent chiefs in order to advance
their personal interests, for instance, economic gain, political power and
position.5 As Tangri (1976: 312) has pointed out, ‘violence has been a
means of seeking to achieve greater share of the resources and benefits of the
chiefdom – for themselves and their clienteles – by overthrowing the incum-
bents and installing themselves in office’. Tangri adds that, ‘young men’
resented the chiefly hierarchy, and as result, disaffected ‘young men’ who
feared continued forced labor and the heavy fines forged alliances with
opposition elders who were more interested in their own personal gain
such as power and position in the chiefdom affairs than the masses.
Although chiefs, their supporters and property were targeted, no chief
was killed and attention was on removing certain chiefs from power as well
as doing away with specific chiefdom policies and rules (Tangri 1976). For
Tangri, this shows that the protests neither represented ‘a popular move-
ment against the existing establishment, nor the wholesale change of the
structure of chiefdom authority’, but largely a result of opponents of the
local establishment who manipulated popular discontent (1976: 315).
Moreover, hinterland people respected the institution of the chief and
wanted to see it continue. Indeed, the post-colonial society inherited the
institution of the chief with the new African state elites, like their colonial
predecessors failing to reach the grassroots, but relying on the chiefdom as
the basic unit of administration since for the new state elites, the chiefdom
was the only local institution that could command support from the
hinterland people.
The hold to chiefs, as Keen (2005) points out, was further underpinned
by Sierra Leone’s path to independence. In preparation for Sierra Leone’s
independence, the British and Sierra Leone elites in 1960 held a constitu-
tional conference in London which saw them drafting Sierra Leone’s
constitution without the input of most of the population. Following
this, the British granted independence to Sierra Leone in 1961. In Sierra
Leone there was no broad-based nationalist movement that could have
played a role in mobilizing popular discontent and threatened the chiefs’
position (Keen 2005). Unlike other colonial states, such as Mozambique
where the post-colonial government depicted chiefs as colonial stooges
and a threat to the modern nation-state it wanted to establish, Paramount
Chiefs in Sierra Leone were not viewed that way since chiefs had been
involved in the country’s struggle for self-governance. As such, at inde-
pendence, Sierra Leone inherited a combination of a Westminster model
and indigenous institutions of chieftaincy in which central and chiefdom
politics closely intertwined.
As noted earlier, the colonial state in Sierra Leone never had effective
and legitimate state institutions and the colonial government’s attempt to
integrate traditional political structures into the colonial state led to the
transformation of the indigenous political order and the relations between
ordinary people and their rulers as well as society and state, and increased
the role of patronage as competing ruling families sought to outdo each
other. The post-colonial state inherited this.
POLITICS IN POST-COLONIAL SIERRA LEONE

The idea of the liberal peace is not new to Sierra Leone. In response to calls
for decolonization and self-governance of colonized African states that came
across Africa, in Sierra Leone the British created a liberal democratic frame-
work aimed at enabling local political actors to establish political parties as
well as compete for the leadership of the state (Abdullah and Rashid 2004).
Sierra Leone attained its independence from Britain on 27 April 1961, under
the leadership of Milton Margai of the Sierra Leone People’s Party (SLPP) –
a conservative in his political views who had worked for the colonial admin-
istration in the country. The post-colonial Sierra Leonean state inherited, as
its legacy from close to two hundred years of British colonial rule, a parlia-
mentary system of democracy, based on the British Westminster model, but
which was never adapted to suit the local conditions. In the early years
(1961–1967) of independence, Sierra Leone had a functioning parliamen-
tary system that exercised legislative power in an elected House of
Representatives, an independent judiciary system, a vibrant civil society and
a free press, among others. Moreover, it adopted an ‘open door’ Laissez-faire
economic policy, ‘a willingness to accept whatever kind of investment might
be offered, regardless of its effect on the overall economic position of [the
country]’ (Cartwright 1978: 74). All foreign investors were welcome in
Sierra Leone. A consequence of this approach was that Sierra Leone could
not come up with an approach to development that emphasized self-reliance,
thus Sierra Leoneans were left in ‘a state of economic dependence on
industrialised states for most of the satisfaction to which they aspired’
(Cartwright 1978: 74).
Margai’s attempt to build a liberal democratic state and a free market
system in Sierra Leone faced a number of challenges. Two of the major
challenges were that Sierra Leone’s post-colonial state had inherited a state
that was devoid of nation as well as state structures that lacked democratic
political culture, and as such, it retained the features of the colonial state,
thus failed to serve the interests and needs of the majority of its citizens.
Moreover, the political polarization between the Creole and the hinterland
people did not cease to exist at independence as a coalition of indigenous

elites from diverse regional and ethnic background prevented the Creole
elite from inheriting the state from the British (Kilson 1966). This resulted in
the Sierra Leone People’s Party (SLPP) winning independence for the
country and its leader Sir Milton Margai becoming the first Prime Minister
of independent Sierra Leone. Milton Margai continued to be closely con-
nected with the chiefly ruling strata. The alliance between the indigenous
elites did not last long as the ethnic tensions between the Temne and Mende
witnessed increased ethnicization and regionalization of Sierra Leone’s
domestic politics. As a result, as Abdullah and Rashid point out,
The ‘indigenous’ elite subsequently fragmented into SLPP, a coalition of

chiefs and middle-class professionals that came to represent the predomi-
nantly Mende southeast, and the All People’s Congress [APC], which
garnered support from the Temne and Limba in the north, the Kono in
the east, and the Creoles in the west. (2004: 173)
Political competition among elites increasingly grew into a contestation

for power between those from the north and the south aligned to their
respective ethnic groups and coalitions. This, to some extent, can be
linked to the pre-colonial nature of political organization and societies in
Sierra Leone, which were heterogeneous and fragmented. Despite this,
the British brought them under one territory and their departure in Sierra
Leone saw ‘differences rather than similarities increasingly dominat[ing]
political life’ in the country, with elites using these differences to conso-
lidate their control over the state (Ake 1991: 317).
Milton Margai died in office in 1964 and his half-brother Albert Margai
succeeded him as the SLPP leader and Prime Minister of Sierra Leone. Albert
Margai’s regime was corrupt and nepotistic as the regime’s domestic policy
favored the southern population – predominantly Mende – thus alienating
most of the population and resulting in the disgruntled supporters from the
north as well as Krio supporters defecting to APC. In addition, Albert Margai
attempted to amend the constitution in order to create a one-party state in
the country. The liberal democratic experiment that had begun toward the
decolonization in Sierra Leone did not last long as it collapsed in 1967 when
the head of Sierra Leone army Brigadier David Lansana seized power follow-
ing APC’s defeat of the SLPP which witnessed an intense struggle over
electoral results between the two parties. This effectively blocked what
would have been Africa’s first smooth democratic transition involving
transfer of power from a ruling party to an opposition one. A few days after
Brigadier Lansana took over, a second coup was staged resulting in the
creation of a National Reformation Council (NRC) which took control of
the government for a year. A year later, a third military coup led to the
restoration of civilian rule with the handing over of state power to APC and
the position of Prime Minister to Siaka Stevens. The transfer of power
marked the beginning of the decline of the state and the country’s descent
to state autocracy that contributed to the Revolutionary United Front
(RUF) insurgency in 1991. Stevens first transformed the country into
a republic in 1971 and then into a one-party state in 1978 after several
attempts to overthrow his government failed. In 1985, Joseph Momoh,
a former army commander, succeeded Stevens. However, his rule was
brought to an end in 1992 when disgruntled front-line soldiers led by
Captain Valentine Strasser seized power and established the National
Provisional Ruling Council (NPRC).
EXPLAINING THE SHORT-TERM CAUSES

OF THE SIERRA LEONEAN CIVIL WAR
Various interpretations have been offered in response to Sierra Leone’s state

decline, its descent to state autocracy and the civil war. These interpretations
tend to focus on the short-term causes including a crisis of patrimonialism
(Richards 1996; Reno 1998); an outcome of lumpen culture and youth
resistance (Abdullah 1998; Abdullah and Rashid 2004); the predatory func-
tionality of state power (Kandeh 1999); a product of greed, not grievance
(Collier 1999, 2001; Collier and Hoeffler 2004) and a new form of barbarism
(Kaplan 1994). Although most of these explanations do not bring out the
long-term historical causes of the civil war including pre-colonial and colonial
legacies, and the eventual state collapse, they deserve attention since an under-
standing of both long-term and short-term causes of the conflict contributes
to our understanding of the dynamics of the civil war in Sierra Leone and
responses to it. Below, this chapter will review some of these accounts.
A New Form of Barbarism

In his seminal article, ‘The Coming Anarchy’, Kaplan (1994) has traced Sierra
Leone state’s descent to state autocracy to new forms of barbarism, what
Richards (1996) has called, the ‘New Barbarism’ thesis (Richards 1996).
Kaplan refutes the political dimensions of the civil war in Sierra Leone
and other parts of West Africa, and emphasizes its criminal nature – an
outcome of traits embedded in the local culture. For him, like in other
parts of West Africa, the conflict in Sierra Leone is a result of a combina-
tion of factors including marginalization from the world economy, over-
population, environmental collapse, disease, crime and deep-seated tribal
hatred. Kaplan’s work reduces rebels in West African countries like Sierra
Leone to irrational and superstitious bandits engaged in primitive vio-
lence. Since his work is not analytical and also it does not examine the
local context in a historical perspective, it does not help in explaining the
structural causes of the civil war. Other scholars like Richards (1996)
who have critiqued the ‘New Barbarism’ thesis have pointed out that the
RUF insurgency is an outcome of the disintegration of patrimonial
politics in Sierra Leone.
A Crisis of Patrimonial Politics

Several scholars have traced the origins of the RUF insurgency in Sierra
Leone to a ‘crisis’ or collapse of patrimonial politics in the country
(Richards 1996; Reno 1998; Bøås 2001). As noted earlier, rather than
building up formal state institutions, successive post-colonial state elites in
Sierra Leone preferred to use informal networks to consolidate their
political and economic power. During his reign, Siaka Stevens increasingly
centralized his power and authority as well as personalized the office of the
president by dismantling district councils, putting the institution of chief-
taincy under the control of the central government, establishing a one-
party state in 1978, politicizing the military and police, undermining press
freedom, civil society and the autonomy of the legislature (Hayward
1984). For Bøås, Stevens is ‘the perfect embodiment of a neo-patrimonial
ruler [who] envisioned himself as the head of the extended Sierra Leonean
family, claimed roots in all major ethnic groups’ and portrayed himself as
‘Pa Siakie’ – ‘the father of the nation’ (2001: 708).
The personalization of government meant, for example, employment
and education became dependent on loyalty rather than performance.
Reno has called this form of politics ‘warlord politics’ in which ‘rulers
reject the pursuit of a broader project of creating a state that serves a
collective good or even of creating institutions that are capable of devel-
oping independent perspectives and acting on behalf of interests distinct
from rulers’ personal exercise of power’ (1998: 1). Reno further notes
that patronage politics in Sierra Leone resulted in a ‘shadow state’, a form

of patronage system that was not formally recognized, which at the same
time, was ‘rigidly organized and centred on the rulers’ control over
resources’ (1998: 2).
Neo-patrimonial corruption affected all state enterprises including the
diversion of profits from oil and rice marketing for the personal gain of state
elites and their associates including Lebanese merchants. However, it is in
the diamond sector that it was more pronounced. As Reno (1998: 116)
writes, prior to Stevens’ rule, ‘diamonds had generated about $200 million
in profits in Sierra Leone’s formal economy, or about 30 percent of national
output, and had provided 70 percent of foreign exchange reserves’. Indeed,
the extensive patronage network that Stevens and later his successor Joseph
Momoh created resulted in few diamonds passing through the formal
economy to the extent that, by 1987 they were valued at $100,000 effec-
tively depriving the state of much needed revenue while financing neo-
patrimonial exchange (Reno 1998). As state elites channeled public
resources for patrimonial distribution, the majority of the population was
languishing in poverty and neglect. It is not surprising that an ‘irrelevant’
state emerged that was ‘inefficient as an instrument of policy, inept in the
regulation of social behavior and almost irrelevant as a force for the mobi-
lization of national resources for development’ with groups of ‘people,
individuals or certain “classes” retain[ing] sufficient clout to undermine
policy and hold the state hostage’ (Sesay 1995: 167).
Richards (1996) states that a combination of economic decline and
external impositions, especially, the IMF and World Bank’s demand for
reforming Sierra Leone’s economy including public expenditure cuts and
strict financial discipline which starved state elites of resources essential for
financing neo-patrimonial exchange in Sierra Leone, led to a crisis of
patrimonialism in the country. Based on this, Richards uses ‘the crisis of
patrimonialism’ as a framework for understanding factors that led to the
outbreak of the civil war. He rejects Kaplan’s argument that overpopula-
tion and scarce resources contributed to the violence, and argues that the
origins of the RUF insurgency and the brutality that ensued are political
and rational rather than anarchic. In fact, for Richards (1996: 36), the
crisis of patrimonialism under APC rule resulted in the contraction of the
state ‘both physically (in terms of its communication facilities) and socio-
logically (in terms of the groups it can afford to patronize)’. And, without
sufficient resources to ‘maintain the crumbling facade of the “official
state”’ the regime had to prioritize maintaining loyalty among the security
forces for its survival and this had a devastating effect on, for example, the
hinterland, education, jobs and social services (Richards 1996: 36).
Furthermore, the crisis of patrimonialism had a negative effect on
young people, especially in the area of education (Richards 1996: 36).
Momoh who succeeded Stevens viewed education as a privilege rather
than a right of Sierra Leoneans. As such, for him the state had no obliga-
tion to provide education to its citizens. Prospective students were
awarded government scholarships for higher education on the basis of
their patronage ties and ethnic identity, and not merit (Kandeh 1999).
This resulted in the alienation of youths. The reality of state recession was
felt by the youths in the mining districts such as Kailahun and, ultimately
providing a fertile recruitment ground for the RUF (Richards 1996). As
such, the RUF insurgency is viewed as a response to this social exclusion,
which sought to provide an alternative political organization.
Lumpen Youths and the Culture of Resistance

Before beginning this analysis, it is crucial to point that ‘youth’ is a slippery
and contested concept whose meaning varies widely within societies and
across cultures. While the Government of Sierra Leone’s (GoSL) National
Youth Policy of 2003 defines youth chronologically to denote any person
aged between 15 and 35 years (GoSL 2003), the Sierra Leonean society in
general has provided alternative understandings of the term based on func-
tional characteristics or context. A youth, in this case, can be any individual
who is unmarried, landless and lacking political and economic power
(Manning 2009). Furthermore, as Manning has also observed, in Sierra
Leone, usage of the concept youth can also depend on the context, for
instance, relating to communal work, it is used to refer to ‘all able-bodied
men’ (2009: 3). ‘Youth’, in this case, does not end at 35, but continues into
the forties. However, a widely shared view of youth as a state of transition
from childhood to adulthood, and ‘needing guidance’ (McEvoy-Levy 2013)
can be discerned in the country. As such, in this paper, youth is used to refer
to a category of individuals who are not yet accepted as adults by their society.
Several Sierra Leonean scholars have rejected that the civil war was an
outcome of a crisis of patrimonialism per se (Bangura 2004; Abdullah
1998; Abdullah and Rashid 2004, Rashid 2004). Bangura (2004) cri-
tiques Richards’ ‘a crisis of patrimonialism’ thesis and traces the origins
of the RUF insurgence to the fiscal crisis that Sierra Leone experienced
since the early 1980s. Bangura links the civil war to the informalization of
essential industries, such as diamonds as well as the collapse of the iron ore
mines which had previously played a vital role in providing much of Sierra
Leone state’s official revenue. The informalization of public resources was
later extended to state sectors, such as gold and fisheries. As Bangura
argues, this weakened the government’s capacity to collect revenue from
state enterprises. For him, while the fiscal crisis affected general state
provisioning and administration, it increased the fortunes of those who
used the state as a source of their livelihood. He thus argues that, there is a
positive correlation between ‘the poverty of the state’ and the ‘affluence of
“patrimonial” groups’ (Bangura 2004: 27). Such ‘patrimonial’ groups
were insensitive to the suffering of those who were not part of their
networks, and who had been seriously affected by the shrinkage of the
state and the informalization of public resources.
Contrary to Richards, Bangura argues that foreign aid flows in Sierra
Leone never declined, but instead went up consistently each year since
1987 (except for 1990 when it dropped): ‘[ . . . ] official development
assistance to Sierra Leone went up from US$68 million or 7.3 percent
of GNP in 1987 to US$99 million or 10.6 percent of GNP in 1989; it
dropped to US$66 million or 8.1 percent of GNP in 1990; but shot up
to US$108 million or 10.8 percent of GNP in 1991 [ . . . ]’ (Bangura
2004: 26). This, as Bangura has pointed out, happened at a time when
APC was engaged in the informalization of essential formal structures
crucial for revenue collection in both the private and public sectors.
International donors ended up taking the responsibility to promote the
welfare of ordinary Sierra Leoneans while state elites and their clients
abused state resources and strengthened patrimonialism. Bangura con-
cludes that most of the population suffered due to the crisis of the state
and the increasing gains of patrimonialism, not from the crisis of
patrimonialism as Richards claims.
Most analysts and Sierra Leoneans in general are nearly unanimous that
a large number of people who participated in the war were youth and their
participation was an outcome of their socio-economic and political mar-
ginalization at both state and chiefdom levels (Abdullah 1998; Peters
2011a; Kaplan 1994; Richards 1996; Rashid 2004; Kandeh 1999;
Humphreys and Weinstein 2004). Young people accounted for more
than half of all documented ex-combatants who passed through the
various disarmament camps in the country at the end of the civil war,
and over 70 per cent of the RUF rebels were children and youth below the
age of 25 (Rashid 2006).
Several Sierra Leonean scholars have argued that the bulk of the RUF
recruits were ‘lumpen youth’,6 prone to criminal behavior (Abdullah
1998; Rashid 2004; Bangura 2004; Kandeh 1999). Other scholars such
as Richards (1996) and Peters (2011a) have suggested otherwise – poor
and marginalized rural youth, not criminals were at the center of the civil
war. Toward the end of the civil war NGOs and DFID conducted exten-
sive public consultations for the Paramount Chiefs Restoration program in
rural areas which also provided substantial evidence that one of the causes
of the war was youth exclusion and exploitation (Jackson 2005; Fanthorpe
2005). This focus on the rural factor has helped to draw attention to the
motivations of many rural youths in participating in the conflict.
In a context of abject poverty, economic crisis, political repression and
corruption, high unemployment and limited educational opportunities as
well as limited resources to marry as elders controlled access to women, it
became difficult for a large number of young men to acquire social stand-
ing including the position of an adult or eldership in the community
resulting in their frustration with the system (Peters 2011a). This was
also confirmed by traditional authorities including Paramount Chiefs,
youths, NGOs and villagers during this author’s fieldwork in Sierra
Leone, who pointed out that forced labor, social exclusion and heavy
fines were among the factors that led young men to flee rural areas. Such
youths ended up in urban and mining areas in search of a better life, and
some fled to Liberia where they became easy recruits to the RUF which
promised to improve their lives. Youths, disenfranchised by customary
traditions and law, in dire need of empowerment, resorted to armed
rebellion to revenge against a system that oppressed them and blocked
their upward social mobility, aiming to gain respect, power and status over
the ‘big men’ and also as a survival strategy. Small arms and light weapons
became ‘the weapons of the weak’ (Scott 1990) to wrestle power out of
the hands of chiefs and elders.
From the above discussion, it is vital to note that ‘community failure’
(which contributed to the marginalization of rural youths) and ‘state
failure’ (which largely affected urban youths as the state could not provide
public goods including education and the creation of employment oppor-
tunities) should be viewed as interdependent. Both had a role in contri-
buting to the country’s youth crisis that saw marginalized youths playing a
central role in the civil war. In this regard, putting much emphasis on
urban lumpen youths will not help us understand the magnitude of the
‘youth crisis’ in Sierra Leone and it also silences youths from rural areas
who voluntarily joined the RUF. The urban lumpen youth thesis also fails
to account for the involvement of foreign Liberian and Burkina Faso
youths in the RUF ranks.
This author interviewed two former combatants, one a former RUF
commander and another, a former Civil Defence Forces (CDF) comman-
der who both pointed out that poverty and continued marginalization that
most ex-combatants experience in post-war Sierra Leone may force them
to join rebellions in other countries in the region – at least by doing so,
they can earn a living. Further, they pointed out that the 2009 and 2010
instability in neighboring Guinea made a number of former combatants
‘excited’, most of these combatants lived in cities such as Bo, Kenema and
Freetown, with their fellow ‘brothers and sisters’ (other former comba-
tants) since their families and communities rejected and re-marginalized
them. This could also explain why foreign mercenaries from Liberia and
Burkina Faso joined the RUF ranks – poverty and marginalization in their
communities. As such, the crisis should not be seen as limited to Sierra
Leone’s urban lumpen youths, but should be seen as a regional one.
LIBERIA AND OTHER REGIONAL ACTORS

The conflict in Sierra Leone should also be understood in the context of
an insecure and unstable region, especially the crisis in Liberia in the
1980s. The end of the Cold War witnessed a number of West African
states experiencing military coups, attempted coups, civil strife and violent
internal conflicts, proving to be one of the most unstable sub-region on
the continent. The sub-region has suffered from more than a fair share of
violent conflict and civil strife: Liberia (1989–1996, 1999–2003 – civil
wars), Sierra Leone (1991–2001 – civil war), Mali and Niger (various
Taureg rebellions), Guinea-Bissau (1998–1999 civil war and military
coups), Guinea (deadly ethnic clashes in 2013), Côte d’Ivoire (1999,
military coup, and 2002–2007 and 2010–2011, civil wars), Senegal (the
Casamance insurgency) and Nigeria (various conflicts and Boko Haram
attacks since 2009). The instability and insecurity in the region has been
attributed to challenges of poverty, human rights abuses, poor govern-
ance, political exclusion, endemic economic and political corruption, and
weak states in the sub-region. These conflicts saw Guinea, Guinea-Bissau,
Côte d’Ivoire, Liberia, Senegal and Sierra Leone involved in ‘an inter-
connected web of conflicts that have seen refugees, rebels, and arms spill
across porous borders’ (Adebajo 2004: 1).
Moreover, Libya, a North African state, played a significant role in the

conflict. It is well-documented that the late Libyan leader, Muammar
Qaddafi helped start civil wars in Sierra Leone and Liberia since he
provided military training to RUF rebels and Charles Taylor’s NPFL
rebel group, ‘as part of his anti-Western crusade for influence in West
Africa’ (Hirsch 2001: 147). Davies (2000) considers Libyan military
training and finance for rebellion as the key factor that really triggered
the civil war in Sierra Leone. Libya was not the only country that provided
military training for the rebellion since some Sierra Leoneans living in
West African countries such as Nigeria, Ghana, Liberia and Côte d’Ivoire
were later recruited for training in Burkina Faso, and after their training
they first went to Liberia with other Libyan-trained Sierra Leoneans to
join forces with Charles Taylor’s NPFL’s initial campaign against the
Liberian president Samuel Doe that started in 1989 before invading
Sierra Leone on 23 March 1991 (Abdullah and Rashid 2004). Taylor in
return supported the RUF’s invasion of Sierra Leone: ‘[ . . . ] provided a
base in Liberia for the RUF to launch its “revolution” with the help of 200
Burkinabe regular soldiers and NPFL veterans [ . . . ]’ (Abdullah and
Rashid 2004: 185). It is not surprising that after the war the UN-assisted
Sierra Leone Special Court indicted Taylor for crimes against humanity
and war crimes in Sierra Leone.
Taylor’s support for the RUF rebellion was done for several reasons.
Momoh had allowed the Economic Community of West African States
Military Observer Group (ECOMOG) that had intervened in Liberia’s
civil war to use Sierra Leone as its air-base to launch attacks against
Taylor’s NPFL in order to prevent it from toppling Doe’s regime (Keen
2005). In addition, the government of Sierra Leone contributed troops to
ECOMOG forces launching attacks on the NPFL in Liberia which,
according to the TRC, ‘drew an embittered and vengeful response from
within Liberia’ (2004a: 98). In response to this, Taylor sought to retaliate
against the government of Sierra Leone. By supporting the RUF incursion
into Sierra Leone and providing it with arms and ammunition, Taylor
sought to undermine and discredit ECOMOG by showing that it was not
capable of keeping peace in the region.
For Keen (2005: 37), internal discipline could have been a motive since
Taylor sent ‘some of his wildest and most violent fighters’ to join forces
with the RUF. Taylor’s support for the RUF was also aimed at forcing
Sierra Leone to withdraw its troops from the ECOMOG peace operation
in Liberia. In addition, it would also help him exploit the country
resources, especially diamonds. Although Taylor provided support to the

RUF, there is no evidence that it was his brainchild.
A BRIEF OVERVIEW OF THE CIVIL WAR

IN SIERRA LEONE
On the 23rd of March 1991, the RUF consisting of a small group of

Libyan-trained Sierra Leoneans with the support of Burkinabe and
Taylor’s NPFL invaded the eastern region of Sierra Leone from Liberia
with the objective of ending APC’s grip on power.7 The war in Sierra Leone
had spilled over from neighboring Liberia where Taylor was fighting the
Doe regime. For more than a decade Sierra Leone experienced a devastating
civil war that lasted until January 2002 in which an estimated 50,000 people
lost their lives (Abdullah 2004; Gberie 2005), a large number of civilians
were displaced, raped and maimed, children were recruited through abduc-
tion, diamonds were looted and the revenue from diamonds helped prolong
the war, the rule of law became non-existent, social capital declined and
schools, government buildings and administrative infrastructure were
destroyed. This devastation and the RUF’s targeting of civilians contra-
dicted its claims that it wanted to liberate the people of Sierra Leone from
state autocracy and introduce multi-party democracy in the country, that it
was fighting for the provision of public goods such as better medical care,
free education and the need to protect Sierra Leone’s resources from
foreign capitalists.8 Because of its violence against civilians, the RUF failed
to win the sympathy and support of the people in the Southern and Eastern
Provinces, despite the fact that most of them wanted to see an end to the
APC regime which was aligned to the Northern Province.
THE 1992 COUP

In order to counter the RUF invasion in the east, the government of Sierra
Leone deployed its paramilitary State Security Defense (SSD). The SSD
could not defeat the rebels since it was poorly equipped and lacked morale.
In 1992, a group of young officers in the Sierra Leone army staged a protest
in Freetown against poor salaries and working conditions for front-line
soldiers which inhibited them to counter the rebels more effectively. The
mutiny escalated into a coup resulting in Momoh fleeing to neighboring
Guinea. The soldiers then formed the National Provisional Ruling Council
(NPRC), led by a young officer, Captain Valentine Strasser to replace the

APC regime. The new NPRC government which had the support of young
people pledged to end corruption, end the war swiftly and a return to
civilian rule. However, without experience and consisting of mostly high
school graduates as well as its leadership surrounded by politicians and
senior civil servants who had ruined the country, the NPRC regime soon
began to display political behavior that had characterized previous regimes
including a high level of corruption, the targeting of political opponents and
the looting of diamonds for personal gain (Abdullah and Rashid 2004).
In an attempt to bring a quick end to the war and in response to the
RUF insurgency that was gaining strength, the NPRC regime increased
the size of the army from 3,000 to nearly 15,000 and the majority of
the new recruits were urban lumpen youths who, according to Rashid,
‘revealed their lumpen instincts in their desire to get rich quick, the use
of drugs, disrespect for ordinary citizens and excessive womanizing’
(2004: 85; Abdullah and Rashid 2004). The recruitment of the
‘urban riffraff’ in the army led to the creation of a ‘lumpen militariat’
and tipping the ‘balance of war in favor of the RUF’ (Abdullah and
Rashid 2004: 187). In addition, army rank and file who shared the
same social background as the RUF rebels colluded with the RUF
resulting in the phenomenon called ‘sobel’ (soldier by day, rebel by
night) in the period 1994–1997 (Kandeh 1999; Keen 2005; Richards
1996). The same period also witnessed RUF change its tactics from
conventional warfare to classical guerrilla tactics which involved using
bypass to strike strategic targets (Abdullah and Rashid 2004). The
phenomenon of ‘sobels’ and the RUF’s change in military tactics as
well as the revenue that the rebels got from the diamonds contributed
to the prolongation of the war.
THE 1996 MULTI-PARTY ELECTIONS

AND AFRC-RUF CHALLENGES
Under local and international pressure, the NPRC government conceded

to a return to multi-party politics. In early 1996 multi-party elections were
held in Sierra Leone. The elections were conducted in the midst of a civil
war and increased RUF violence against civilians since the rebel group
wanted to discourage people from voting. Despite these impediments the
elections went ahead and Ahmad Tejan Kabbah of the SLPP emerged the
winner with the NPRC regime handing over power to him. However, this
was short-lived as the conflict continued and Kabbah was overthrown in a

military coup staged by the Armed Forces Revolutionary Council (AFRC).
Kabbah and his government fled to neighboring Guinea where they
mobilized regional and international support. The AFRC invited their
former enemies, the RUF, to join their government in Freetown establish-
ing the AFRC/RUF coalition, which provoked public outraged against
the AFRC. The AFRC under the leadership of Major Jonny Paul Koroma
suspended the country’s constitution and banned all political parties. The
AFRC–RUF coalition was also short-lived as the Nigerian-dominated
ECOMOG forces together with local Civil Defence Forces (CDF), the
Kamajors militia, expelled the regime from Freetown in 1998, restoring
Kabbah back in power.9
The AFRC/RUF rebels continued to fight for the control of Freetown.
In January 1999, the RUF and dissident AFRC units once again invaded
Freetown, and gained control of the city’s Central and Eastern areas,
destroyed and looted parts of the city as well as committed atrocities
against civilians. Richards (2002) has noted that those who attacked
Freetown in 1999 had various motives: some in the AFRC joined the
attack with the hope to return to power, others wanted to destroy the
evidence on which the cases against their colleagues who had been impri-
soned rested and the RUF’s main interest was to free their leader Sankoh
from prison who had been convicted of treason in October 1998 and
received a death sentence. By mid-1999, ECOMOG forces had secured
the city leading to the signing of a comprehensive peace agreement – the
Lome Peace Agreement – between the RUF and the government of
Kabbah on 7 July 1999. The UN and OAU brokered the agreement,
with the USA being one of the major backers of the agreement.
Contrary to the economic analysis put forward by scholars such as Keen
(2000), Reno (1998), and Collier (2001) which views rebellion as indis-
tinguishable from organized crime,10 Abdullah and Rashid (2004) has
argued that the RUF had a political agenda since it was interested in
capturing political power as shown in its involvement in the 1999 invasion
of Freetown as well as its participation in the AFRC government. The
RUF’s strategy was to capture political power by any means at its disposal.
However, Abdullah and Rashid do not account for why it failed to break
away from its violent past after signing a power-sharing agreement in 1999
in which Foday Sankoh was appointed vice president of the country as well
as chairman of a commission managing strategic resources including dia-
monds and gold, and development.
As such, the two views – the view that the RUF had a political agenda
and the one that sees the war as mainly a function of economics – should
not be seen as in much contradiction with each other. As noted earlier, in
Sierra Leone the dominant group’s (state elites and their allies) appropria-
tion of public resources and their distribution to their patrimonial net-
works had a devastating effect on the population and the state, resulting in
the less-dominant group (disenfranchised youths, in particular) claiming
their share and joining the RUF to wage a ‘war of liberation’. In this
regard, greed by state elites and their allies, generated grievances from the
marginalized which resulted in them calling for an armed ‘revolution’ as
well as joining the RUF ranks. As a result, the outbreak of the civil war in
Sierra Leone (in relation to the short-term causes discussed above) could
be attributed to the interaction of economic motives and opportunities
with political factors and economic grievances. However, the revolution
turned wrong when the RUF wanted to achieve their political agenda and
access to mineral resources by any possible means as was the case during
the 1999 invasion of Freetown code-named ‘operation no living thing’ in
which a lot of civilians lost their lives (Gberie 2005; Alie 2000).
A FRAMEWORK FOR LIBERAL PEACEBUILDING

IN SIERRA LEONE: LOME ACCORD
The January1999 AFRC-RUF attack on Freetown saw the Sierra Leone

crisis receiving much more international attention and commitment. With
both the RUF and the government of Sierra Leone under immense
pressure to resolve the conflict peacefully (international and regional
organizations such as the UN, Commonwealth, ECOWAS and OAU as
well as states such as Libya, the US and UK became involved), the warring
parties signed a peace agreement (Lome peace agreement) in July 1999 in
Lome, Togo. This peace accord should be seen as a framework for liberal
peacebuilding in Sierra Leone. It led to the establishment of the United
Nations Mission in Sierra Leone (UNAMSIL) to implement the agree-
ment, and the withdrawal of ECOMOG forces from the country.
It included a power-sharing deal between the SLPP government which
would end with the 2001 elections, security sector reform and a blanket
amnesty to all warring parties. It also focused on other significant issues
such as governance, education, health, disarmament, demobilization and
reintegration, and the establishment of a human rights commission as well
as a TRC.
Despite the fact that the agreement provided an opportunity for both the
RUF and the Kabbah government to gain legitimacy as well an access to
economic and political power for the RUF, the protagonists had not nego-
tiated in good faith, thus failed to sustain the process resulting in its collapse
as well as the country’s failure to make a transition to peace and stability. The
peace process was largely flawed. Since the immediate imperative was to stop
overt violence as well as achieve order and stability, the peace agreement was
rushed. Given that the violence was largely associated with the RUF, the
negotiations were done between the RUF and the government. This resulted
in a range of key stakeholders including other armed combatants such as the
Kamajor militia, AFRC/SLA and West Side boys, civil society and local
community leaders being marginalized in decision-making. Moreover, those
involved in the peace negotiations failed to make use of the barry system, a
community decision-making system that is found throughout Sierra Leone
which local communities use to discuss issues, resolve conflicts and reach
decision through consensus. As such, a bottom-up approach to the process
could have been useful in helping formulate an agreement that had a vision
for the country as it would have allowed the wider public and other stake-
holders to participate in the peace process.
In May 2000, the Lome Peace Agreement collapsed and much blame was
laid on the RUF which had been reluctant to disarm, continued to harass
civilians, contested the legitimacy of UNAMSIL and took hostage 500 UN
peacekeepers as well as confiscated its equipment threatening its collapse (ICG
2001a). The May 2000 crisis brought the conflict to increased international
attention with the UK, which had not been involved much in post-colonial
Sierra Leone until the late 19990s, taking a pivotal role in ending it.
A combination of factors contributed to the eventual stabilization of the
situation, disarmament and demobilization of thousands of the RUF and
other armed groups, and an end to the conflict. These include diplomacy,
British military intervention, the May 2001 Guinean bombardment of
Kambia – a town in north Sierra Leone on the Sierra Leone–Guinea border
that was under RUF control, the UN Security Council expanded the size of
UNAMSIL and its mandate which allowed UN troops to use force against the
RUF, civil disobedience, and the imposition of economic and travel sanctions
on Charles Taylor’s government in Liberia (Ero 2009; Olonisakin 2008; Paris
2004; ICG 2001b). In early 2002, the war was officially declared over and
multi-party elections were successfully held in the same year, which Kabbah’s
SLPP won. The post-war period has seen international intervention strategies
aimed at promoting the liberal peace in Sierra Leone.
CONCLUSION
This chapter has provided a historical account of the causes, nature and
evolution of the civil war in Sierra Leone. It has explained the complex factors
that contributed to the outbreak of the civil war and state collapse in Sierra
Leone showing how some of the causes of the war are connected to Sierra
Leone’s past including the intense social, economic and political polarization
that the country experienced during the colonial period, which the postcolo-
nial state inherited. At independence, Sierra Leone inherited, as its legacy from
close to two hundred years of British colonial rule, a parliamentary system of
democracy, based on the British Westminster model, but which was never
adapted to suit the local conditions. State elites soon abandoned this model,
and the Sierra Leonean state became a victim of administrative corruption and
bad governance, eventually evolved into a predatory state, which marginalized
the masses. A historical account of the background to the civil war in Sierra
Leone helps us gain a more intimate understanding of the local context and its
possible challenges to liberal peacebuilding and the building of durable peace
as well as the quality of peace being produced in Sierra Leone.
NOTES
1. Chapter 2 has discussed the nature of the colonial state in Africa and the
issues raised are relevant to Sierra Leone.
2. The colonial government introduced a system of ‘ruling houses’ in which
each chiefdom had at least two ruling houses and only if someone was a
descendent from a ruling house he/she was eligible to contest an election
for Paramount Chieftaincy and was elected for life, unless if the relevant
Chiefdom Council (an assembly of elders and notables) disposed him/her.
3. The colonial government introduced the Native Administration system in
the Protectorate in 1937 with the aim of putting the chiefdom administra-
tion on ‘a sound footing’ and it served three main purposes: (1) ‘the
establishment of separate financial institutions, known as Chiefdom
Treasuries, for each unit of administration’; (2) ‘the grant of tax authority
to each chiefdom unit’; and (3) ‘authorisation of Paramount Chiefs and
other Tribal Authorities to enact by-laws and issue orders in pursuance of
social services and development functions’ (Alie 1990: 152).
4. Fanthorpe (2007) has attributed the violence to the power struggles
between secret societies and chiefs.
5. The Mende use the term ‘young men’ to refer to males who have no respect,
little power and hold no position in the chiefdom affairs (Barrows 1976).
The use of ‘young men’/youth in political violence at the national level has
also been noted as a key factor to the recent civil war in Sierra Leone.
6. Abdullah (1998: 207) defines lumpens as the ‘largely unemployed and
unemployable youths, mostly male, who live by their wits or who have
one foot in what is generally referred to as the informal or underground
economy’.
7. Although he was not part of the first RUF rebel group that invaded eastern
Sierra Leone from Liberia, a former RUF commander acknowledged the
presence of the Burkinabés in the RUF and also pointed out that he was
among the group that the ‘special forces’ from Burkina Faso provided with
military training in Liberia (personal interview, November 2010).
8. The former RUF commander cited above also told me that the RUF fought to
put SLPP in power and he could not understand why the same SLPP which he
fought for went on to imprison him and his colleagues after the war.
9. These were community-based militias that emerged in the mid-1990s
among various communities in Sierra Leone. Their main aim was to protect
their communities from RUF and government soldiers attacks when it
became clear that the Sierra Leone Army was colluding with the rebels to
destabilize the countryside and also that the army was failing to defeat
rebels. The most prominent and largest community-based militia was the
Kamajoisia – a militia force from the south and eastern parts of Sierra Leone
that was rooted in Mende cultural practices (see Hoffman 2007).
10. According to this view, the RUF was more interested in mining diamonds
than seizing political power.
CHAPTER 7
Building a liberal Peace in Post-Conflict

Sierra Leone
In February 2002, during her visit to Sierra Leone, Clare Short, the
then UK secretary of state for International Development, said: ‘[ . . . ]
the UK government is committed to stand by Sierra Leone for the
long-term provided that we have a strong mutual commitment to the
building of a competent, transparent and uncorrupted modern state’.
Indeed, the end of the civil war gave international actors an opportu-
nity to transform the Sierra Leonean state on liberal lines, economically
and politically with the aim of creating a stable and peaceful post-war
society. This saw international actors playing a lead role in the initia-
tion, planning and implementation of the country’s post-conflict peace-
building and statebuilding project, and as such, the Sierra Leonean
post-conflict peacebuilding and statebuilding process largely conformed
with the standards set by international actors. Much international
attention has been given to building a Western liberal democracy and
effective state institutions, a (neo)liberal economic order, security and
governance. International actors intervened in the war-torn state of
Sierra Leone on the assumption that the locals did not have the
capacity to (re)build it on their own, viewing themselves as having
the capacity to do so. Based on this flawed assumption, international
actors (working with state elites) took a direct role in the statebuilding
and peacebuilding efforts in the Sierra Leone. This international peace
support operation in Sierra Leone appeared to be neo-colonial in
nature as international attempts at social and political engineering

DOI 10.1057/978-1-137-57291-2_7
largely reflected internationals’ preference and terms, and failed to

engage with most of the population in defining the kind of post-war
society/polity they wanted to construct. As such, this neglected ‘local
agency and indigenous capacities for institution building’ (Englebert
and Tull 2008: 134) as well as customary practices and customary law,
and the development of a social contract between the state and citizens,
among others. This chapter provides a discussion of international
peacebuilding in Sierra Leone, which is liberal peace-oriented as well
as examines its successes and failures.
A LIBERAL PEACE PROJECT IN SIERRA LEONE

Since the end of the civil war in Sierra Leone in January 2002, more than a
decade ago, the liberal peace has been the globalized solution to the
country’s crisis. In Sierra Leone, significant international efforts and
resources have been applied to statebuilding and peacebuilding initiatives
covering the areas of disarmament, demobilization and reintegration of
former combatants, human rights, governance reform, promotion of
democracy, rule of law, justice and security sector reform, market-based
economic reform, civil society, building strong and effective state institu-
tions, development and humanitarian assistance. The key goals for these
initiatives have been to prevent the resumption of the conflict (central to
this were concerns for the stabilization and security of the post-conflict
government), to establish a certain kind of a political order – a liberal
democratic order – thought to be essential for creating conditions for
durable and sustainable peace. A wide range of international actors includ-
ing the UN, World Bank and the UK have been actively involved in post-
conflict peacebuilding and reconstruction activities in the country. For
such international actors who provide support to the state, imagining
peace and progress in Sierra Leone outside of the liberal peace framework
is difficult, if not impossible.
The Sierra Leonean TRC largely attributed the country’s civil war to
‘failures in governance and government institutions’ (2004a: 39). In its
report, the TRC pointed out that
[ . . . ] the people of Sierra Leone yearn for a principled system of govern-

ance. They want a system that upholds the rule of law over the rule of strong
patrons and protects the people from the abuse of rulers through a system of
checks and balances. They wish to see horizontal and vertical accountability
7 BUILDING A LIBERAL PEACE IN POST-CONFLICT SIERRA LEONE 145
through the effective operation of such institutions as the judiciary, the

auditor general’s office, the electoral commission, the media and civil
society. (2004a: 39)
From this, it appears that Sierra Leoneans prefer a liberal polity – a state
that is both weak and strong, that upholds the rule of law and that is
insulated from elite capture, a vibrant civil society, media and state institu-
tions that can hold the government to account, and so on. Does this then
mean that Sierra Leoneans are liberals, advocating a liberal peace? If that is
the case, then Sierra Leonean peace is after all a liberal one. It is difficult to
conclude that Sierra Leoneans advocate a liberal form of peace basing on
the TRC report, given that, for instance, despite the chieftaincy system’s
(an illiberal institution) role in the civil war and the re-introduction of
local councils in all districts, recent research has shown that the general
feeling among Sierra Leoneans is that it is an important and legitimate
local government institution which should play a crucial role in the
country’s future (Manning 2009; Fanthorpe 2005; Swayer 2008).
Furthermore, recent research has also shown that groups based on affec-
tive ties such as secret societies continue to be highly regarded in rural
Sierra Leone and are regarded as legitimate forms of local governance
which can, for instance, play a crucial role in promoting participatory
development (Lavali 2005; Cubitt 2012). Lavali (2005) contends that
the introduction of the idea of formal NGOs and community-based
organizations (CBOs) has resulted in the creation of two publics: the
civic (modern civil society) and primordial (groups based on affective
ties) – evidence of the ‘continuing tension between the demands of
“civic” governance and “primordial” political loyalties’ in post-conflict
Sierra Leone (Fanthorpe 2007: 7).
However, much international attention (also using the TRC report to
legitimize their projects) in the post-war period focused on reforming the
state, economy and civil society along liberal lines. This witnessed, at the
end of the civil war, a wide range and comprehensive governance reform
measures being undertaken. These included the enactment of the Anti-
Corruption Act 2000 (and later a new Anti-Corruption Act 2008), The
Human Rights Commission of Sierra Leone Act, 2004; Anti-money
Laundering Act, 2004; a new Public Procurement Act, 2004; the Local
Government Act, 2004; the Budget and Accountability Bill, and an
Investment Code, 2005, and the Right to Access Information, 2013,
also known as the Freedom of Information Bill. In an attempt to improve
governance and accountability development agencies like DFID have

supported work on strengthening the Public Financial Management sys-
tems and civil service reform. Furthermore, international actors including
the UK, UN, the World Bank and the EU have provided significant support to
the establishment and operation of a number of core state institutions for
democracy and good governance including the office of the Ombudsman, the
National Commission for Privatization, the National Revenue Authority, the
National Electoral Commission, Political Parties Registration Commission,
the decentralization Secretariat, the National Commission for Democracy and
the Independent Media Commission, among others. Other reforms include
the establishment of a multi-party political system, a functioning local govern-
ment system, institutional reform and building the capacity of national institu-
tions for democratic governance, respect for civil and political liberties, the
establishment and operation of the country’s Anti-Corruption Commission as
well as the building of a modern civil society, and security sector reform with
the UK’s International Security Advisory Team playing a leading role.
On the economic realm, following the end of the civil war, the SLPP-
led government adopted neo-liberal policies designed within the frame-
work of the liberal peace assumed to be crucial for Sierra Leone’s recovery.
Donors largely dictated how this should be done (Thomson 2007; Cubitt
2012). Under the close supervision of the international actors, the gov-
ernment of Sierra Leone (GoSL) embarked on structural reforms
including
tax policy and administrations reforms that support private sector redevelop-
ment and fiscal stability, improved public expenditure management and
control, exchange and trade liberalization to strengthen competitiveness,
financial sector modernization and regulatory reforms, improvements in
governance, and more effective delivery of social services. (IMF 2002: n.p.)
In addition, the GoSL had to give in to the World Bank demands that it
produces Poverty Reduction Strategy Papers (PRSPs) – aimed at poverty
reduction and promoting development – as a prerequisite for obtaining
debt relief, grants, loans and new credits from the two leading international
financial institutions, the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund
(IMF) and donor countries. Economic liberalization continues to be on the
agenda of the international actors in Sierra Leone as reflected in the coun-
try’s three PRSPs: PRSP I (2005–2007), PRSP II (2008–2012, also called
An Agenda for Change) and PRSP III (2013–2018, also called The Agenda
for Prosperity). The second PRSP which drew lessons from the PRSP of
2005–2007 emphasized economic growth, human rights, gender equality,
employment, poverty reduction, reforming the public sector, supporting
the private sector modernizing the financial sector (GoSL 2008).
Furthermore, it focused on the government’s four ‘strategic’ development
priorities from 2008 to 2012 which are energy, agriculture, transportation
and human development (GoSL 2008). The PRSP framework’s emphasis
on poverty reduction, broadened participatory consultation, empowerment,
national ownership and consensus building reflects a significant shift from
the structural adjustment prescriptions imposed on the country during the
pre-war period (Cooper 2008). However, as Cubitt (2012: 58) contends,
‘the purpose of consultation was to establish how best to implement an
already agreed template of reform not to encourage fresh thinking by locals
on the pressing issues facing the nation’. Such a template of reform has
emphasized the central tenets of the liberal peace – a free market economy, a
modern civil society and democratization. This reflects a ‘liberal peace
project’ of social transformation designed from outside in which liberal
ideas and practices are applied to the organization of the post-war Sierra
Leonean state and society with the aim of creating a certain kind of state and
society – a liberal state and society – thought to produce a particular kind of
peace – a liberal peace. As a result, local customs and traditions which can
significantly aid the peace and reconstruction process have not well been
considered by international peacebuilders in relation to this project.
Of course, this does not mean that international actors have not recog-
nized some of the customary institutions for social control and order in the
country, for instance, institutions of the Paramount Chief and chiefdom
police, and local level justice. Faced with the realities on the ground includ-
ing that most of the population in Sierra Leone has greater access to the
informal justice and governance systems than the formal ones, rather than
calling for their elimination, international actors such as the DFID and the
British Council have recognized the importance of Paramount Chiefs in the
governance of the hinterland communities. At the same time, such actors
have adopted strategies – via for instance, the Justice Sector Development
program – aimed at reforming the informal justice system in line with
international human rights norms and governance systems in order to
make them more relevant to the modern state that they are building in
Sierra Leone. Similarly, in its joint vision for Sierra Leone document, the
UN family for Sierra Leone noted the need to establish a justice system in
Sierra Leone that ‘incorporated more systematically the traditional court
system of Sierra Leone that services approximately 70 [per cent] of the

population through increased codification of customary law and procedures
as well as through better training of local court officials’ (UN 2009: 14).1
Traditional authorities, while not openly rejecting international actors’ mod-
ification or hybridization of the customary justice system, have also pointed
out that certain issues are addressed in secret society courts (Tribal
Authorities (TAs), group interview, 28 November 2009) – this is where
‘real’ customary law is practiced away from the influence of international
actors and various local monitoring groups including human rights commit-
tees that have been established in the chiefdoms. In this regard, resistance to
the codification of customary law or local courts which is subtle and non-
confrontational is evidence of the locals’ hidden opposition to such moves.
SIERRA LEONE A SUCCESS STORY OF LIBERAL

PEACE – AND STATEBUILDING?
Sierra Leone is often viewed by the UN and many other international
donors as a success story of international intervention, and as such, the
country has been acclaimed as a model of post-conflict liberal peacebuild-
ing. In May 2002, four months after the formal declaration of the end of the
civil war, Sierra Leone successfully held her first post-war presidential and
parliamentary elections with considerable assistance from the UN. The
incumbent president, Ahmed Tejan Kabbah (the SLPP leader), was elected
for a new five-year term. Many international observers declared the elections
largely free and fair and the losing parties did not seriously contest the
election results, signaling a peaceful transition from war to democratic rule.
The Carter Center in its report, Observing 2002 Sierra Leone Elections: Final
Report, remarked that: ‘The success of the 2002 Sierra Leone elections
demonstrated the strong desire of Sierra Leone’s citizens to put the brutality
of the war behind them and to create an enabling environment for reconci-
liation and democratic development’ (2003: 10). In 2004, local councils
were re-established across the country, through the Local Government Act
of 2004, following their abolition in 1972. Furthermore, in December
2005 UNAMSIL completed its mandate and withdrew from the country,
ending six years of peacekeeping in the country. Two years later, the
country held presidential and legislative elections with less international
involvement than the 2002 elections, which also saw the smooth transfer
of power from the ruling party (SLPP) to the opposition (APC).
Moreover, in 2012 the country held local council, parliamentary and

presidential elections, which international observers declared peaceful and
credible – the country’s first self-administered national elections since the
end of the civil war. On 31 March 2014, the last United Nations Mission
in Sierra Leone, the UN Integrated Peacebuilding Office in Sierra Leone
(UNIPSIL) completed its UN Security Council Mandate in the country,
marking the end of over 15 years of UN peace support operations which
had played a significant role to the country’s transition from war to peace.2
Just before the end of the UNIPSIL mission, the UN Secretary General,
Ban Ki-Moon, visited the country, and remarked that ‘Sierra Leone repre-
sents one of the world’s most successful cases of post-conflict recovery,
peacekeeping and peacebuilding. Here we have seen great strides toward
peace, stability and long-term development’ (UNIPSIL 2014, no page
numbers). Yet, this official version of the UN and many international
organizations in Sierra Leone contrasts sharply to the feelings on the
ground. Over a decade after the end of the conflict, Sierra Leone remains
a fragile state,3 though as noted above, the international community does
not always perceive it as such, hence UNIPSIL’s drawdown.
Sierra Leoneans continue to face most of the socio-economic challenges
that contributed to the civil war in the country. In its operational plan for
2011–2016, updated in 2012, DFID (2012: 3) spells out the context of a
weak state in a fragile region – a country that remains one of the poorest in
the world, near the bottom of the UN’s Human Development Index, and
unlikely to meet any of the Millennium Development Goals before 2015.
Both post-war governments have failed to resolve many of these challenges,
despite the support of international actors including the British govern-
ment. This has led to frustration among many Sierra Leoneans who had
developed very high hopes and expectations in the post-war period. As
Gallagher (2009) points out, during the period of acute crisis in Sierra
Leone, Sierra Leoneans viewed the British and the then British High
Commissioner to Sierra Leone (1997–2000) Peter Penfold’s involvement
in Sierra Leone in a positive way. This was in sharp opposition to the British
policy toward Sierra Leone (and the rest of Africa) prior to the end of the
Cold War, which was largely characterized by what has been called ‘benign
neglect’ (Chafer 2013: 236). In other words, the later 1990s saw Britain
adopting a more interventionist foreign policy toward Sierra Leone as the
UK Prime Minister Tony Blair’s New Labor government was (compared to
the previous Conservative government under John Major) ‘more enthusias-
tic in its search for solutions to African problems and in its advocacy of a
“third way” between “row” and “kow tow”, between excessive military
interventionism and passive isolationism, and between neo-liberal and redis-
tributive economic policies’ (Cumming 2004:124).
As I have pointed out in the previous chapter, in May 1997 the
democratically elected government of Ahmad Tejan Kabbah was over-
thrown in a military coup and forced into exile in Guinea where he
established a government in exile, which the British government recog-
nized and supported. Peter Penfold who also had gone into exile in
Guinea developed a close relationship with the Kabbah’s exile government
supporting and consulting with it as well as playing an advocacy role.
Many people in Freetown viewed Peter Penfold as ‘as a protective, pater-
nal figure, in a climate where little protection was to be had from the state’
(Gallagher 2009: 14). However, five years after the end of the civil war and
the election of Kabbah into power, Sierra Leones frustrated about the lack
of progress in the post-war period could no longer see the British in such a
positive light (Gallagher 2009). Since the British and the DFID had been
deeply involved in the governance of Sierra Leone emphasizing, among
others, the building of effective government systems, ‘good governance’,
democracy, rule of law and respect for human rights, they became directly
implicated in the failures of the Kabbah government:
Five years after the end of the war, with much trumpeted levels of aid and
support, Freetown did not look very different from how it looked immedi-
ately after the war. People were angry that there was still no mains electricity
supply, little or no employment, and only rudimentary state services. The
motivations and effectiveness of the British, as key supporters of the govern-
ment of Sierra Leone, were beginning to be questioned and trust in British
intentions had begun to tarnish. (Gallagher 2009: 14–15)
Disillusioned by the SLPP-led government’s performance, many Sierra

Leoneans voted into power the then main opposition party, the APC led
by Ernest Bai Koroma. However, President Koroma who is in his second
term has not managed to resolve most of the root causes of Sierra Leone’s
civil war. In fact, a liberal democratic state with effective state institutions, a
self-sustaining peace and political stability is far from being achieved in
Sierra Leone. The peace dividend in Sierra Leone is yet to emerge for
most of the population including war victims, and it largely supports state
elites and those connected to them. Despite the emergence of a basic form
of security, Sierra Leone remains one of the world’s poorest countries,
ranking 181 out of 187 countries listed on the Human Development Index
(HDI) in 2015 (see UNDP 2015). Moreover, despite abundant natural
resources, poverty remains a serious challenge in the country. More than a
decade after the end of the civil war, most Sierra Leoneans continue to live
in conditions of endemic poverty and unemployment, and the country’s
infant and maternal mortality rates are among the highest in the world.
In addition, the Sierra Leonean state has remained polarized along
regional and ethnic lines, and continues to be highly dependent on
external aid, both post-war governments could not break away from
patrimonial politics, and the country has continued to experience growing
inequality and pervasive public sector corruption. The 2015 Transparency
International Perception Index, which evaluated the level of corruption in
168 countries, ranked Sierra Leone 119 out of 168 countries. In 2014, the
Audit Service Sierra Leone, in its report, Report on the Audit of the
Management of the Ebola Funds, noted a number of financial irregularities,
including the payments to thousands of ‘ghost’ health workers. Yet,
despite the existence of pervasive corruption in Sierra Leone, the convic-
tion rate of those accused of fraud and corruption remains very low.
The previous chapter has noted the role of disaffected subaltern youths
in rural areas and cities in the emergence of the civil war in Sierra Leone. In
addition, the conflict greatly affected the hinterland, especially, the eastern
and southern areas.4 Yet, international peacebuilders have tended to be
based in the capital city (Freetown), and have emphasized the building of
strong and effective state institutions. This is despite the fact that the state
is highly contested in Sierra Leone and ‘indigenous’ communities predo-
minantly occupy and control the ‘up country’ space, as opposed to
Freetown where the state has historically been the strongest, a result of
the heavy concentration of white and Creole settlers in the pre-indepen-
dence period. As such, the existence of multiple systems of power and
authority including informal networks and institutions such as chieftaincy,
women and youth associations, secret societies, kinship and ex-combatant
networks, and religious networks has allowed for the existence of multiple
systems of social ordering which either compete for space and power or
cooperate with each other or both. This has prevented the state from
providing a single dominant form of social ordering. Yet, in their endeavor
to establish a single sovereign, internationals fail to acknowledge such
non-state systems and institutions for social ordering in Sierra Leone.
International actors’ privileging of statebuilding over human needs and
welfare of most of the population in Sierra Leone is reflected in the World
Bank’s Communication Officer in Sierra Leone – claim that at the end of

the civil war Sierra Leone had two challenges: (1) statebuilding (‘the
rebuilding of state institutions’) and (2) state transformation (‘making it
[the state] look better’) (personal interview, December 2009). In response
to the crisis in Sierra Leone, international donors took an institutional
approach to peacebuilding and statebuilding committing millions of dol-
lars to support security sector reform (SSR), the Special Court for Sierra
Leone, national and local government elections, a multi-party political
system, local government, institutional reform and building the capacity
of national institutions for democratic governance, respect for civil and
political liberties.
Yet, little attention has been paid to indigenous and traditional social,
economic and political structures, and forms of peace and peacemaking
that exist and have deep roots in most parts of rural Sierra Leone as well as
‘local’ culture, values, politics, structures of power and authority.5 This has
further alienated most of the population from the state with those in the
hinterland viewing it as being located in Freetown. Tribal authorities
expressed disappointment with the state noting that it has failed to meet
people’s basic needs and also that state elites are privileging Lebanese
merchants and contractors from Freetown with whom they have estab-
lished patron–client relations over local contractors and business persons
(group interview, TAs, 28 November 2009).6 Further, the TAs were
critical of international actors such as the EU, who according to them
view the locals as lacking capacity, thus, bring ‘their brothers’ (expatriates)
to do work that locals are qualified to do. They therefor, questioned the
logic of spending thousands of dollars in salaries and holiday allowances on
expatriates when there are locals who are cheaper and better qualified than
such expatriates, which for them is ‘corruption’: ‘Most of the money is not
coming for us. They are eating it’ (group interview, TAs, November
2009).7 The TAs also pointed out that, ‘We are not happy. We cannot
live as third class citizens’, and further noted that they have raised these
issues in workshops. Indeed, ordinary people are disillusioned with the
state’s failure to meet their basic needs and welfare, and resent interna-
tional donors’ failure to acknowledge their capacity to contribute to local
development programs/transformation.
From Freetown to Kailahun to Mattru Jong to Sierra Rutile the general
perception among ordinary people is that the peace dividend has not been
equitably shared and peace remains fragile. For them, most of the factors that
contributed to the civil war remain unaddressed including marginalization,
unequal power relations, social injustice, corruption, exclusion and poverty

with some saying that the situation is even getting worse (personal interview,
Legal Officer, December 2009; Community Leaders Training, Kailahun,
November 2010). Indeed, these are some of the challenges that TRC report
(2004a) noted as needing urgent attention since a failure to address them
might see the country returning to conflict. As such, there is an element of
anger among the ‘up country’ people, that the state is biased toward the
center (Freetown), Lebanese merchants and foreign investors, neglecting
the periphery (the hinterland).
Yet, state and economic elites, and the World Bank see Sierra Leone as
having made a transition to a ‘post’ post-conflict phase and are privile-
ging security as well as (neo)liberal peace and economics over social
peace for addressing the country’s challenges. In order to rationalize
the establishment of a free market system in the country, state elites
and the proponents of (neo)liberal economics have made promises
about the benefits that such a system would bring not only to the state
but also to poor Sierra Leoneans.8 Such benefits include economic
growth, sustainable development, chiefdom development, an increase
in food security (in relation to foreign investment in agricultural land9)
and jobs. As such, the GoSL has tended to privilege (national) security,
creating an investor friendly environment, rule of law, economic growth
and development over the interests, welfare, needs and rights of land-
owners in rural mining areas as well as rural areas where foreign compa-
nies such as Addax Bioenergy have invested in customary land for the
purpose of producing biofuel or oil palm for Western markets. For
instance, despite promises of development, Imperi Chiefdom (Bonthe
district), a rutile mining area, is in a deplorable state without running
water, electricity and good roads. The host communities and landowners
face everyday challenges of land and food insecurities as well as extreme
poverty, land degradation, loss of land to the mining company and the
creation of artificial lakes due to the use of dredge mining. In addition,
most of the people are not well educated and have been blamed for this.
For example, a local respondent who works for an international NGO
pointed out that the people are ‘lazy academically’ and are selling their
land to the mining company so that the company pays them surface rents
as owners of the land (personal interview, confidential source, December
2009). Yet, during my interviews with the locals, they expressed a lot of
interest in education citing poverty and corruption as major impediments
to their education. For instance, a town chief pointed out that it was
difficult for young people from Imperi Chiefdom to attend the recently
established technical college, the Jackson and Devon Anderson Technical
Institute (JADA), as most locals had ‘no cash to pay for the tuition fees’
and in addition, scholarships were not being granted to the financially
needy, but to those connected or related to senior members of the mining
company and state elites (personal interview, town chief (b), November
2010). Further, the locals are bitter that the government sold away their
land to the mining company without first seeking their consent. Indeed,
poverty, economic liberalization and corruption are some of the reasons
why most people in the area lack education and skills, not laziness.
Meanwhile, mining activities have undermined local economies and
have also disrupted traditional land use practices. As such, there is a lot
of anger among the host communities that the state and their Paramount
Chief have failed to protect their interests and rights from Sierra Rutile
mining company, one of the largest foreign investors in the country.10 In
addition, there are also complaints that surface rent payments that land-
owners receive from the company are meager and that landowners are not
consulted, even when it comes to deciding how these funds are to be
shared between them and the state, the district council, the chiefdom
development committee and the Member of Parliament (group interview,
youth leaders, 21 November 2010).11 A youth leader pointed out that
‘The funds belong to us [landowners]’, however, ‘Much [money] goes to
the Paramount Chief, Chiefdom Council, the District Council, the MP
and the state, and little to the people. When extended families share cash
from surface rents each gets little’ (group interview, youth leader, 21
November 2010).12 He then noted that, ‘The mining company is using
our [landowners] money to satisfy the Paramount Chief, the MP, council
and government. It is policing the Paramount Chief and she is not raising
her voice’ (emphasis mine).13 In the absence of adequate government
regulation, transparency, accountability, consultation as well as the failure
to involve landowners in decision-making or in shaping mining agree-
ments, there is bound to be mistrust, suspicion, resistance and conflict.
Such complaints from host communities are direct challenges to the
legitimacy of the state since the state has failed in its obligation to promote
welfare and interests as well as protect the rights of its rural citizens against
investors. This failure of the state to promote welfare of its citizens can be
attributed to its continued dependency on foreign donors and its adoption
of a neoliberal agenda which requires it to create an enabling environment
for foreign investment including removing restrictions on them at the
expense of welfare and rights of its citizens.14 As such, the state enters
business agreements with foreign companies in a weaker position. Yet,
international state builders want a strong liberal state in Sierra Leone that
is supposed to offer democracy and security to all its citizens.
Moreover, the erasure of welfare, rights and needs through the adop-
tion of neoliberal policies imply that the state will continue to favor
foreign extractive companies that will ‘help’ Mama Salone (Mother
Sierra Leone) move out of the least developed countries category over
ordinary people. In addition, the state regards strikes as threat to national
security (personal interview, ONS District Coordinator, November
2010). The state also views those who engage in strike action as attempt-
ing to sabotage the government as well as scaring away investors justify-
ing the use of coercion against them (personal interview, confidential
source, November 2010).15 This has effectively silenced the voices of
most of the citizens as well as undermined their freedoms including the
freedom of expression that the liberal peace is promoting in Sierra Leone.
Indeed, in the absence of consent, for instance, from landowners, state
institutions such as the police are called in to use force to suppress
resistance, further undermining the locals’ rights and access to traditional
land use.
Rather than reducing poverty and inequality, economic liberalization in
Sierra Leone has worsened the economic marginalization of most of the
population, particularly, the rural populace. Indeed, attempts at creating a
(neo)liberal economic order in areas where large-scale farming and mining
operations are interacting with small-scale communal farming in which the
(neo)liberal economic order is playing a dominant role will not promote a
stable economic peace. Rural farmers who continue to be marginalized from
mainstream economics have been resisting this. In this case, the failure of the
Sierra Leonean state to develop a self-reliant development policy and its
adoption of an ‘open door’ economic policy will leave Sierra Leoneans in a
‘state of economic dependence on the industrialised states [and IFIs such as
IMF and World Bank] for most of the satisfactions to which they aspire[ . . . ]’
(Cartwright 1978: 75).16 State elites’ acceptance of a neo-liberal economic
order could be a result of their strategic calculation based on their recognition
that the costs of resisting or rejecting it outweigh the benefits of accepting it.
For example, the withdrawal of the much needed national budget support
from IFIs, such as the World Bank and the weakening of their political power,
could far outweigh the costs of accepting it. In addition, a few state and
economic elites are using (neo)liberal peace and corruption as instruments
for their self-enrichment with most of the population turning to the informal
economy and resisting to pay taxes citing corruption and lack of development
in their communities.
Peace, in this case, will remain fragile in the country. As noted above,
the GoSL’s adoption of a neo-liberal agenda and its privileging of multi-
national corporations to ensure economic growth and development as
well as its attempt to create an investor friendly environment appear to
undermine the civil liberties, welfare, needs and interests of ordinary
people in communities such as Imperi Chiefdom. Despite attempts at
erasing local agency, welfare, interests and needs, the locals have
expressed agency through open forms of resistance, such as open strikes
as well as hidden forms of resistance, for example, workers who steal from
their employers. Further, they have also been able to take initiatives to
deal with challenges that are related not only to welfare and needs but
also to the re-establishment of community harmony and cohesion, and
the creation of a form of peace that is relevant to them as will be shown in
the next chapters.
LIBERAL PEACEBUILDING IN A MULTI-ETHNIC BIPOLAR

POLITICAL SYSTEM
A number of respondents, particularly in Freetown, noted the need for Sierra
Leoneans to engage in a nation-building project as a means to promote
national cohesion and peace. However, the central authority that is supposed
to play a leading role in the nation-building project is being resisted by
disaffected rural communities which often associate it with corruption and
Freetown. Although such rural communities want the state to provide them
with basic services as well as promote their welfare, they have remained loyal
to customary governance and authority. In addition, such communities have
turned to ethnic, church and family networks as well as (neo)traditional civil
society organizations such as secret societies for the provision of welfare,
security, peace, reconciliation, individual/community ritual cleansing and
order, thus preventing the liberal peace from creating impersonal Western-
forms of official relations beyond the capital city.
Moreover, international peace initiatives in Sierra Leone have not been
sensitive to the fact that the country is a multi-ethnic bipolar political system
(Bangura 2000). A multi-ethnic bi-polar polity exists where two roughly
equal ethnic groups dominate a multi-ethnic setting (Bangura 2000: 553).
As noted in the previous chapter, in Sierra Leone, the two dominant ethnic
groups are the Temne from the north and the Mende from the south and
east, and the country’s two main political parties, the APC and SLPP, have
often appealed to northern/Temne interests, and south and east/Mende
interests respectively. As a result, the re-introduction of multi-party democ-
racy and the existence of winner-takes-all politics in such a multi-ethnic bi-
polar political system have witnessed a fierce inter-ethnic (Mende-Temne)
and regional contestation as well as electoral violence between APC and
SLPP supporters. While the liberal peace has viewed political elites as poli-
tical engineers who can play a significant role in building an inclusive state
that is crucial for establishing and maintaining sustainable peace, the practice
of winner-takes-all politics in Sierra Leone has resulted in the opposite: it has
excluded the opposition and its supporters, and those who have not estab-
lished patron–client relationships with state elites. Since politics is based on
regional/ethnic lines, the politics of winner-takes-all has seen a segment of
the population feeling excluded from the state. For those in the southern and
eastern areas, the current APC-led government has become more synon-
ymous with Temne and northern interests than national interests.17 The
feeling of being under-represented in government has generated bitterness
in the southern and eastern areas. This has also resulted in the politicization
of Mende identity. The Mende complain about being marginalized and
excluded from political power, and are increasingly becoming uneasy over
what they view as the north/Temne political domination.
The general feeling among the Mende is that they have no stake in the
state. For instance, a TA pointed out that, ‘Whatever they do is their
business. We will take care of our own problems’ (group interview, 28
November 2009). A number of Mende respondents and journalists raised
concerns about the personalization of government, which according to
them has witnessed people being offered jobs based on political affiliation
or loyalty more than competence. In addition, there are concerns about
politically induced sackings of the Mende in the civil service sector. A state
official acknowledged that it is true that ‘many in the government are from
the north’ and justified this on the grounds that ‘the president has not
been in politics for long to know people all over […] he was born in the
north, went to school in the north and has businesses in the north’
(personal interview, December 2009). He further pointed out that when
President Koroma took over power he was in a dilemma about the people
to put in government and given his strong northern background, naturally
he called people whom he knew.18
Post-war Sierra Leone is witnessing the re-ordering of state–society

relations along ethno-regional clientelist lines (see Kandeh 1992). The
use of cabinet posts as rewards for APC supporters and ethnic clients has
also led to an intense struggle for access to state resources and jobs
between ethnic groups. Indeed, the situation on the ground shows that
it is difficult for liberal peacebuilding to establish a liberal democratic
citizenship that eliminates ethnic identity as well as democratize Sierra
Leone along liberal democratic lines as the liberal peace envisions.
Although Sierra Leone is portrayed as a ‘success story’ of international
peacebuilding and statebuilding, it should be pointed out that the complex
dynamics on the ground (noted above) have impeded the establishment of a
liberal democratic state in the country that liberal-internationalists have
envisaged. Rather, a hybrid polity has continued to exist – an outcome of
the interaction between liberal peace institutions, and local politics, culture
and organization. While political elites have adopted the language of the
liberal peace (and embraced neo-liberal economics) which, as noted earlier,
to some extent is aimed at ensuring political credibility and the provision of
material assistance by internationals essential for their consolidation of poli-
tical power, they have maintained space for autonomous action allowing
them to engage in local forms of politics, relations and organization. In this
case, rather than mobilizing citizens through state institutions, political elites
have combined both state and non-state institutions, though giving much
preference to non-state institutions and networks, particularly the institution
of the Paramount Chief, and social and former militia networks.19 This has
meant either establishing or strengthening political ties with non-state actors
such as Paramount Chiefs, former combatants, secret societies and trade
union/grassroots associations leadership as well as engaging in corruption,
ethno-/regional and patronage politics, political clientelism and neo-patri-
monial politics. As such, such a hybrid polity has combined aspects of the
liberal peace, neo-liberal economics, and local forms of governance and
political culture like ethno- and patronage politics, clientelism, indigenous
political and social organizations and patrimonialism.
Such dynamics of local agency and institutions, for instance, chief-
taincy, secret societies, patronage and patrimonialism, have come into
conflict with the liberal peace. This has witnessed liberal peace proponents
such as DFID expressing concerns about political elites’ use of negative
political practices particularly corruption, patronage and patrimonialism
threatening to withdraw financial support to Sierra Leone (see DFID
2008). Rather than engaging patrimonial groups in the country, such
international actors have sought to establish a ‘patrimonial free’ political

system in Sierra Leone – which is not possible.
Indeed, patrimonialism has endured in post-war Sierra Leone. Since it
is difficult to eliminate patrimonial politics in the country, Bangura (2000)
suggests the need to ensure that such groups are transparently managed
and held to account for their public behavior. In addition, for him the
state system needs to be structured in ways that enable it to provide basic
services to groups that completely depend on it for such public goods and
infrastructure as health care, welfare, electricity, sanitation, safe drinking
water, education and jobs (Bangura 2000). It is crucial to note that
nurturing such a political system can be a source of political stability,
eventually durable peace. In addition, this can help maintain peace with-
out the need for the liberal internationalists to transform Sierra Leone into
a political system that fits the liberal peace framework. However, the
challenge is how to make such a neo-patrimonial system transparent (see
Taylor 2007).
Another challenge in Sierra Leone, as noted above, is that politics con-
tinue to revolve around questions of ethnicity with some ethnic groups,
particularly the Mende, becoming restive about the APC-led government’s
alienation of its interests and are making political demands for development,
services, jobs and resources – partly a result of ambiguities that exist in the
democratization process of Sierra Leone. The predominance of ethno-
centric/regional politics, clientelist politics, corruption, patronage and neo-
patrimonial politics above state modernization and democratization entails
that, as the liberal peace supports the state and its institutions in Sierra Leone,
whoever controls the state wins, leading to a power struggle which again
mainly excludes citizens unless they are clients. This can partly be attributed
to the liberal peace’s failure to engage with local politics as well as its failure to
understand the complex social dynamics in Sierra Leone, which has not led to
the creation of a social contract that resonates with the local. Rather, the
outcome has been a predatory state that fails to meet the needs and interests
of most of the population, but state elites and their patrons.
CONCLUSION
This chapter has examined international peacebuilding and statebuilding in
Sierra Leone. The end of the civil war in Sierra Leone witnessed interna-
tional actors introducing a set of policies and programs that promote
democratization, human rights, rule of law, free market economics, a vibrant
civil society, and a stable and secure liberal state in post-conflict societies.
This could be viewed as a liberal peace project of social transformation
aimed at creating a certain kind of a political order and state – a liberal
democratic order and a liberal state – thought to be essential for creating
conditions for durable and sustainable peace in the country. Despite inter-
national efforts to build effective state institutions and durable peace, peace
remains fragile in the country, with both post-war governments failing to
deal with neo-patrimonial politics in the country, which political elites use to
entrench their political power. Despite this, there are peacebuilding activities
taking place in rural communities, which might produce positive hybridity at
the grassroots level. This will be discussed in the following chapters.
NOTES
1. The UN family for Sierra Leone consists of 14 UN agencies and programs
plus UN Integrated Peacebuilding Office in Sierra Leone and three financial
institutions – the African Development Bank, International Monetary Fund
and the World Bank.
2. UNIPSIL was established in 2008 by the Security Council Resolution 1829.
Its mandate included providing political support to national and local efforts
for promoting peace; promoting democratic institutions, human rights, and
the rule of law, supporting government efforts to stop illicit drug trafficking
and international crime; consolidating good governance reforms; support-
ing decentralization of government, supporting the constitutional review
process in the country (UN Security Council/Res/1829, 4 August 2008,
[3] (a)).
3. Its fragility was also reflected in the 2014 Ebola outbreak as the country’s
weak health system could not contain it without external support.
4. For instance, in its 2009–2011 development plan, the Kailahun District
Council notes that the 2001 vulnerability assessment stated that an estimated
80 per cent of the infrastructure in the district required reconstruction (2009).
It further notes that, ‘The general standard of living of the populace is very
low, with the majority having access to meals of poor nutritional status and
drinking water that is not safe’ and also in small communities people live in
substandard houses that have ‘become death traps and therefore dangerous to
live in’ (Kailahun District Council 2009: 8).
5. For instance, international actors privileged the Special Court for Sierra Leone
over the TRC, war victims and customary approaches to peacebuilding. Over
US$300 million was spent on the Special Court for Sierra Leone to prosecute
nine people who bore ‘the greatest responsibility for the commission of crimes
against humanity, war crimes and other serious violations of international
humanitarian law as well as crimes committed under relevant Sierra Leonean

law in the territory of Sierra Leone’ (UN 2000: 1; Hoffman 2008). This
means that at least $33 million dollars was spent on each perpetrator. Yet, war
victims did not receive much support including medical assistance and com-
pensation. In 2009, the President of Sierra Leone launched a trust fund for
war victims; however, it has received very little international support (personal
interview, NaCSA, December 2009).
6. A local businessman also pointed out that he was finding it difficult to secure a
business loan from the Central Bank of Sierra Leone and that state elites and
bank officials were prioritizing Lebanese investors over local business persons,
particularly local business persons who are not connected to them or who
refuse to bribe them (Businessman, personal interview, November 2010).
7. Similar criticisms were raised by a respondent who works for an international
NGO who said, ‘They [internationals] are spending a lot of money on
expatriates while local staff does most of the dirty work’ (personal interview,
confidential source, December 2009). However, ActionAid Sierra Leone
was singled out for having a country director who is Sierra Leonean.
8. In rural areas where the state has invited transnational corporations to invest
in agricultural land (most of which is customary land), the use of concepts
such as ‘agriculture-for-development’ (World Bank 2008b), employment
creation and economic growth have led the state and its development
partners to consider such investment a key priority. In order to make this
more appealing to the rural populace, the use of such concepts has also
meant the creation of pathologies in rural areas where there are vast tracts of
agriculture land, such as ‘under-utilized land’ and ‘food insecure’. Large-
scale farming is viewed as a solution to such pathologies. Since the locals lack
capacity to engage in such agricultural activities, multi-national corporations
are invited and would be considered crucial for ‘transforming’ the liveli-
hoods of poor local subsistence farmers. This overlooks the fact that such
customary land is being kept for future generations. Some of the rural
people have come to accept these pathologies, for instance, a town chief
told me that ‘We were ignorant about agriculture’ and further pointed out
that the community supports the idea of ‘big farms’ (personal interview,
Anonymous town chief (a), November 2010). The same town chief noted
the lack of basic health services in the chiefdom, particularly a ‘big’ hospital.
Critical of the government, he pointed out that the chiefdom had offered 30
acres of land to the government for the purpose of building a hospital;
however, the government built a small health center on 4 acres of land
and called it a hospital. Further, he noted that the ‘hospital’ has inadequate
medicine and bedding, and ‘babies are finding it difficult’.
9. This is despite the fact that such transnational corporations are more inter-
ested in biofuel production and cash crops such as oil palm than food crops.
Yet, the country has a high prevalence of hunger (in 2010, it ranked 79
out of 84 countries on the Global Hunger Index and in the 2015 Global
Hunger Index it scored 38.9, an alarming level). In addition, ordinary
farmers complain that the government has failed to support and protect
the already existing indigenous farmers.
10. Villagers in Imperi Chiefdom perceive their Paramount Chief as conniving
with the government and the rutile mining company. However, national
governing structures tend to supersede the authority of the Paramount
Chief (see Akiwumi 2011). For instance, part 2.1 of the 2009 Mines and
Minerals Act states that ‘All rights of ownership in and control of minerals
in, under or upon any land in Sierra Leone and its continental shelf are
vested in the Republic not withstanding any right of ownership or otherwise
that any person may possess in and to the soil on, in or under which minerals
are found or situated’ (Government of Sierra Leone 2009a: 8). This effec-
tively takes away land rights of rural farmers in mineral-rich areas. Yet, the
Provinces Land Act cap. 122 provides that ‘protectorate lands are vested in
the tribal authority (now chiefdom councils) to manage on behalf, and for
the benefit, of community members with land rights’ (Akiwumi 2011: 61).
11. In its 2011 Public Consultation and Disclosure Plan, Sierra Rutile Limited
provided the amount it disbursed as surface rent payment to affected
landowners in five chiefdoms in Moyamba and Bonthe Districts. For
instance, in Imperi Chiefdom the surface rent payment was disbursed as
follows – the payment rate was US$12.3 per acre (the figures are quoted
in Leones): (1) Bonthe District Development Fund – 126,546,329.70;
(2) Constituency Development Fund – 84,364,219.80; (3) Chiefdom
Development fund – 84,364,219.80; (4) Paramount Chief – 126,546,329.70;
and (5) Landowners – 421,821,141.30. However, the report does not state how
many landowners were paid and how much each landowner received.
12. The youth leader pointed out that due to the extended family system land is
not owned by a single person. This means that if six million leones is paid to
the ‘land owner’ as surface rent, ‘over 55 family members share [it], by the
end of the day each gets one hundred thousand leones’ (group interview,
youth leader, November 2010). During my fieldwork in 2010, a standard
50 kg bag of rice (the country’s staple food) cost 150,000 leones which is
66.7 per cent of such landowners’ annual surface rent payment, based on the
figures the youth leader gave me.
13. Yet, the same critics of the Paramount Chief are quick to point out that ‘we
do not disregard the Paramount Chief, though respect for her has been
reduced a bit’ (group interview, deputy youth leader, November 2010).
Further, such critics have acknowledged that she is good in some way, for
instance, in the absence of ambulance services in the chiefdom, she some-
times uses her pickup truck to transport sick villagers to the hospital, that she
has established a good working relationship with the youths and also that
she knows how to talk to the people. In my interview with the Paramount
Chief, she pointed out that she supports the government of the day,
although some Paramount Chiefs resist this and also that she is working
on bringing her followers together (personal interview, Paramount Chief,
Imperi Chiefdom, November 2010). This (supporting the government of
the day), of course, sometimes comes into conflict with the interests of her
followers who despise central government. In addition, she noted that
payments from the rutile mining company for chiefdom development have
been used to build a guest house and a chiefdom cell. However, for critics
this is not enough and most of the funds meant for chiefdom development
are being abused by the ‘so-called figure heads’ – the Paramount Chief and
Treasury Clerk as well as senior men and women around them (personal
interview, confidential source, November 2010).
14. For instance, in the case of Sierra Rutile mining company, the state has
privileged the company’s ‘interests and profits [ . . . ] through legislation,
cheap pricing, tax holidays and reduced royalty payments’ (Akiwumi
2011:59).
15. The same source told me that he has secretly encouraged mine workers to
go on strike as he feared that if he openly encouraged them he would get
into trouble and at times, he encourages them to engage in hidden forms of
resistance, such as stealing from their employers.
16. For instance, a Paramount Chief noted that sustainable peace could only be
achieved in Sierra Leone if Sierra Leoneans were self-sufficient and accom-
modated each other (personal interview, Paramount Chief, Tikonko
Chiefdom, November 2010). He further pointed out that self-reliance is
important since it limits outside interference – which also could mean an
interest in local ownership and autonomy.
17. The same applies when SLPP was in power.
18. President Koroma could also have learnt a lesson from the previous SLPP
government whose demise an SLPP official partly blamed on its emphasis on
distributing political power evenly in order to avoid regional politics and a
return to conflict (personal interview, SLPP Official, November 2010). The
SLPP official further pointed out that this brought dissatisfaction within the
party since some party members felt SLPP leadership was not being grateful
to those who had fought for the party, leading to defections and also the
formation of a break away party, PMDC, under the leadership of Charles
Margai.
19. Ex-combatants who have faced marginalization in their communities have
moved to cities where they have established ‘new families’ consisting of fellow
ex-combatants. They have also established their own networks – often calling
each other ‘brother’ and ‘sister’ or ‘colleague’. In 2007 elections APC and
SLPP political elites re-mobilized and co-opted them as well as ex-prisoners

and other marginalized youths for the purpose of providing security to political
elites and also for mobilizing votes with violence being used for this purpose
(Christensen and Utas 2008: 515). According to Christensen and Utas
(2008), Ernest Koroma (presidential candidate for APC) mobilized RUF
combatants while Solomon Berewa (SLPP presidential candidate) mobilized
West Side Boys. A former RUF commander told me that, ‘Politicians still need
us. We are the youths’ (personnel interview, 23 November 2010).
CHAPTER 8
Local NGOs and Autonomous

Maneuvering
In Sierra Leone, ‘local’ peacebuilding initiatives have either been estab-

lished by international donors or received support from such sources to
protect and safeguard what is still a fragile peace. NGOs are some of the
civil society actors in Sierra Leone that international actors have preferred
to work with and to work through, in the hope that support given to such
organizations will help promote peacebuilding activities that decrease the
risk of civil war and result in the establishment of Western-style democracy
in the country. However, as shown in the previous chapter, even if most,
but not all funding for peacebuilding initiatives in Sierra Leone comes
from international sources, this does not mean that efforts on the ground
are completely controlled from above. The landscape of peacebuilding is
complex and therefore difficult for foreign agencies to navigate, under-
stand, let alone control, and a number of different outcomes are therefore
produced. Some are intended, some are unintended, and most materialize
in a slightly different version than originally planned. The implementation
of some projects and programs is supported by a baseline study, which
requires some planning or at least an idea about what is needed on the
ground; others simply happen because they could happen. However,
regardless of the planning process and the involvement of local actors
and communities in it (or the lack of such) local actors still have a degree
of agency that may affect outcomes.
The agency of local actors is limited and constrained and often takes
place under a certain degree of coercion, but this is the case for most types

DOI 10.1057/978-1-137-57291-2_8
of agency. Thus, what is more important is the space for autonomous

maneuvering that local actors have and how they are able to define their
agency: is it mainly as the tactical agency of the weak or are they also able
to imagine their agency as strategic, thus implying that long-term planning
is possible and certain factors can be controlled for?1
The latter may be difficult in any setting where the power relations
between the actors involved are highly unevenly distributed, but this
unevenness becomes even more manifest in the post-conflict phase of peace-
building as it brings local organizations into a symbiotic, but hierarchical
relationship to representatives of international organizations (governmental
as well as nongovernmental). Local peacebuilding is undoubtedly difficult
and challenging, but being an international ‘peacebuilder’ is not easy either.
The romantic notion of grateful locals welcoming the expats who have come
to assist them in achieving peace has vanished a long time ago. Instead, the
daily life of most expat peacebuilders consists of long working hours, routine
tasks, stifling bureaucracy and the relative isolation of the bunkered com-
pound due to the increased fortification of international aid operations,
peacebuilding included (see Duffield 2010). The population that they
supposedly have come to serve is kept at arm’s length, separated from the
international experts in peacebuilding by such means as walls, fortifications
and private security guards. The local environment is simply seen as too
dangerous to operate freely (see Autesserre 2014; Jennings 2014).
As difficult and challenging as the life of an international expert in
peacebuilding may be, the life of most locals living in the midst of this is
even more precarious. Not only must they live with the continued con-
sequences of the conflict that brought the international experts in peace-
building to their doorstep in the first place; they also need to figure out
what the resultant peacebuilding activities means to them. It is, therefore,
misguided to expect local responses to externally implemented or spon-
sored peacebuilding activities to be uniformly positive or unambiguous
about such activities.2 Instead, for many there is confusion and frustration
that can lead to outbursts of anger, as when people feel that the projects
and programs aiming at peacebuilding are not having the desired effect on
their lives. This is evident in Sierra Leone where 60 per cent of the
population lives on less than a dollar a day (see UNDP 2014), and the
Ebola outbreak of 2014/2015 has only made things even worse. This
chapter argues that in rural communities of Sierra Leone where people
continue to follow their sociocultural practices, the liberal peace has not
been fully realized, as resistance by locals to international peacebuilding
8 LOCAL NGOS AND AUTONOMOUS MANEUVERING 167
agendas and the fortified nature of international peacebuilding that tend

to isolate external peacebuilders from extensive engagement with the local
has witnessed NGOs coming up with peacebuilding strategies that incor-
porate both international and local peacebuilding approaches.
AUTONOMOUS MANEUVERING
Given the fortified nature of contemporary external peacebuilding that
tends to isolate international peacebuilders from extensive engagement
with the local, this has opened up room for autonomous maneuvering of
local actors such as CAPS, Fambul Tok and Hope Sierra Leone who have
been able to build considerable local-global networks. Local NGOs,
although not trusted by the local people compared to groups based on
affective ties such as secret societies (Lavali 2005), have managed to
incorporate some elements of the liberal peace such as human rights,
transparency, good governance, development and inclusion, and local
forms of peacebuilding as well as creating spaces for inclusion and con-
sultation such as the ‘peace hut’ and ‘peace tree’ which resonate with local
socio-political practices, and the creation of farms such as the ‘peace
mothers farms’ which make sense to local communities engaged in sub-
sistence farming. Initially, local NGOs tended to prioritize interventionist
models of peacebuilding which sought to establish a particular kind of
society (and state) – a liberal society and state. However, faced with
resistance from villagers who felt that NGOs were undermining the cus-
toms and traditions, and also who despised the imposition of the ‘white
man’s culture’ on them, some NGOs had to shift their approaches to
peacebuilding, and as such, making a tactical move to manage their
legitimacy. This has seen them reconciling international and local peace-
building agendas, advising and facilitating peacebuilding activities rather
than taking a leading role, which has allowed villagers to accommodate
them. This has also seen hybrid approaches to peacebuilding that are more
acceptable to the locals being implemented.
In post-war Sierra Leone, international donors have been involved in
transferring ideas and practices of civil society as found in Western liberal
democracies. A liberal civil society, it is believed, through monitoring and
advocacy can provide a check on the excesses of the Sierra Leonean state as
well as influence state policies and raise public awareness on liberal values
and practices such as democracy, good governance, human rights, devel-
opment and rule of law. This means that most international actors have
preferred to work closely with urban-based and professionalized local

NGOs who easily could appropriate the global language of liberal values
in their efforts to promote a liberal peace in Sierra Leone. This narrow
NGO-centric view of civil society by international actors has tended to
marginalize or exclude local groups based on affective ties such as secret
societies and other grassroots groups including ethnic development asso-
ciations whose ‘organizational forms and operation logic mirror indigen-
ous cultural practices’ (Sesay et al. 2007: 3). Thus, little attention has been
given to grassroots groups. For instance, in the case of Sierra Leone,
Cubitt (2012) contends that international donors have given little atten-
tion to grassroots groups such as Sierra Leone Market Women’s associa-
tion and the Motor Bike Renters’ association, which do not confirm to
international standards. Despite such groups having been successful in
lobbying the government of Sierra Leone for legislative change, they are
often viewed as a threat to the liberal state. As such, international donors
have encouraged and supported the development of modern non-affective
groups considered to be essential for promoting public interests and for
holding the state and its agents to account, thus, ‘promoting and devel-
oping the liberal version of what is civil’ (Richmond 2011b: 28). Western
donors have paid some attention to indigenous organizations only when
this suits their liberal agendas or is conducive to the process of building a
liberal state and society – ‘bad’ domestic social forces are to be discouraged
and ‘good’ ones encouraged and supported.
Yet, recent research has shown that local groups based on affective ties,
such as secret societies, continue to be highly regarded in rural Sierra
Leone and are considered legitimate forms of local governance which
can play a vital role in peacebuilding and promoting participatory devel-
opment (see Cubitt 2012, 2013; Lavali 2005). As noted in Chapter 2,
these associations come in various forms and different names throughout
Sierra Leone and the Mano River Basin, but the most common and
important form is the Poro, that is, the men’s association par excellence
and the Sande which is the equivalent female association. These associa-
tions guard the ownership and use of supposedly supernatural medicines
and employ particular rituals, sign, symbols and forms of knowledge that
are withheld from non-initiates. Their existence and general purpose are
known to any grown-up person and despite modern education (albeit
many places rudimentary) and upheavals such as the civil war, the wide
range of the associations’ activities makes them still an important and, at
times, a dominant social force. Historically, they have regulated the
harvesting of forest products (as for example, nuts for making palm oil),
fishing and trade, carried out dispute settlements, and tried to regulate war
(as an arbitrator, but also as an initiator as for example, the role played by
the Poro in the Mende Rising in 1898 against the colonial hut tax) (Little
1965). Their current role and power is not as absolute and dominant as it
used to be, but these associations and the political and cultural life around
them mean that they still matter locally and often have considerably more
legitimacy than the local professionalized NGOs.
As noted in the previous chapter, the introduction of the idea of formal
NGOs and community-based organization in Sierra Leone has resulted in
the creation of two publics, namely, the modern civic and the traditional
local publics (Lavali 2005). The locals have developed terms to distinguish
them. For instance, the Mendes use the terms puu hindae (‘Whiteman’s
business’), which equates to the civic public, and kondi hindae (ʻour local
affairʼ), which relates to the traditional public (Lavali 2005). Many local
people view the puu hindae (NGOs) as corrupt and not worthy their
support (which may include refusal to provide materials for development
projects such as quarry stones and sand) (Lavali 2005).
The lack of legitimacy, trust and confidence in such NGOs also came
out during my fieldwork in the south and eastern parts of Sierra Leone in
2009 and 2010. For example, as noted in the previous chapter, TAs
pointed out that NGOs refuse to be accountable and transparent to the
communities and that they bring their own contractors (their ‘friends from
Freetown’), ignore local contractors, ‘most of the money is not coming for
us, [as] they are eating it’ and that state officials are part of the corruption
as contractors bribe them (group interview, TAs, 28 November 2009).
Furthermore, the TAs noted that district councils sometimes allow
NGOs to do projects in the chiefdoms without first consulting the chiefs
and this has often been met with resistance from the chiefs who feel as the
highest traditional authorities in the chiefdoms they need to be consulted
and respected. As such, chiefs often refuse to cooperate with NGOs
conducting peacebuilding and development activities in their chiefdom,
if they are not consulted.3 This has seen some projects failing largely due
to such power struggles between local councils and chiefdom authorities.
Moreover, conflicts have often emerged between NGOs and communities
who demand payment from the NGOs for construction material such as
sand and quarry stones that the community supply to NGOs for projects in
their community. There are suspicions that when NGOs apply for project
funds to donors they include costs of material such as sand and quarry
stones in their budget, yet communities supply such material to them for
free. In response to this, local communities demand accountability from
such NGOs and, at times, refuse to supply them with free construction
material and community labor. There are cases where NGOs have imposed
projects even when the community needs a different project.
For instance, NGOs have provided infrastructure such as crop drying
floors and grain stores in a community where people need say a mosque,
not crop drying floors, and in some communities, people have turned the
crop drying floors and grain stores into places of worship and ‘goat
shades’, respectively (Anonymous Project Officer, December 2009;
Interview, Anonymous, December 2009). And where the locals feel an
NGO imposed a project on them, they avoid it and identify it with the
name of the NGO. However, chiefs do not always resist as they have
allowed development projects in their chiefdoms even when NGOs ‘bull-
doze’ them on the communities, if this benefits them (TAs, group inter-
view, November 2009; Anonymous Project Officer, December 2009). In
addition to critiquing local organizations, the TAs dismissed the claim that
the locals lacked capacity and for them, this was an excuse to bring in
expatriates (‘their own brothers from Europe’) to do NGO work that
locals could do since there are local people who are better qualified than
some of the technical advisors. At times, local communities have openly
resisted the sidelining of the ‘indigenes’4 in holding key positions in
projects in their chiefdoms (Interview, Anonymous Project Officer,
December 2009). Moreover, local and international NGOs’ programs
and training workshops on issues such as gender equality, property rights
and some aspects of children’s rights that have targeted men and commu-
nity leaders have at times witnessed men resisting them by either walking
out of the workshops in protest or disagreeing with the NGOs (TAs,
group interview, November 2009). While women and children’s rights
issues are very important, men who resist them view such rights as an
imposition from outside (‘human rights are for whites’ or ‘its Western
culture’) and they also want to be consulted. Moreover, they feel that
women and children’s rights are being prioritized over theirs.
The initial approach of some local NGOs involved in peacebuilding
activities in post-war Sierra Leone was to prioritize interventionist models
of peacebuilding which sought to establish a particular kind of society
(and state) as people were told to adopt, for example, democratic values
and human rights, and to ‘put aside’ established cultural norms and
traditions as these had been attributed to the outbreak of the civil war
(Interview, Anonymous NGO Official, November 2010). However,

NGOs encountered resistance from the villagers opposed to the under-
mining of their traditions and customs, and the imposition of ‘Western
culture’ on them. Professionalized NGOs based in Freetown also work
closely with international donors contributing to the reduction in their
legitimacy in rural communities, and locals’ criticism of them as being out
of touch with local realities. In order to gain local approval, some NGOs
have shifted their approaches to peacebuilding which should be under-
stood as a tactical move to manage their legitimacy. This has involved
reconciling international and local peacebuilding agendas, advising and
facilitating peacebuilding activities rather than taking a leading role, thus
creating hybrid approaches to peacebuilding that are more acceptable to
the locals. For example, while local NGOs such as Hope Sierra Leone,
Advocacy Movement Network (AMNeT), Community Association for
Psychosocial Services (CAPS) and Fambul Tok have maintained close
relations with international donors, they have also made tactical decisions
to work closely with influential local people such as religious and secret
society leaders, youth leaders, teachers and chiefs as coordinators who
understand the local culture and can inform them on the local situation
as well as act as local mediators, and receive human rights training. In this
case, such NGOs have managed to make use of local institutions in their
peacebuilding efforts, at the same time, ensuring that they are satisfying
international peacebuilding agendas.
Resistance and Collaboration – a Case of Three NGOs in Sierra Leone

Fambul Tok (a Krio term which means ‘family talk’) is a Sierra Leonean
organization that was established in 2007 in response to the failures of
Sierra Leone’s attempts to have a TRC run in parallel to the Special Court
for Sierra Leone. The result was that when the TRC concluded its work in
2004, it received a number of criticisms including that it was top-down,
‘too Western’, ‘too official’ and that it ‘failed to elicit apologies from
perpetrators’ (Graybill 2010: 44). In addition, the TRC and the Special
Court for Sierra Leone failed to reach those who lived on the margins of
district headquarters and the state who constituted the bulk of war victims.
As such, there was a need to engage in peacebuilding activities that would
promote social healing and bottom-up approaches to peacemaking.
Fambul Tok which mainly operates in rural communities draws on tradi-
tional approaches to conflict resolution and community healing through
family dialogue, arguing that it ‘challenges the neo-colonial concept that

Africa needs to be “saved” by the West, and explores community-based
traditions as a viable form of building sustainable peace, that has proven –
in Sierra Leone – to be more successful than Western efforts to heal
divided communities’ (Fambul Tok 2015: 2).
Thus, the organization facilitates traditional cleansing ceremonies
(done according to the traditions and norms of the community in question)
and brings perpetrators, victims and other members of the community
together to engage in bonfire truth-telling and ‘family talk’ aimed at pro-
moting forgiveness and reconciliation, and addressing the root causes of
conflict at the local level as well as restoring the dignity of war victims. The
program involves traditional and religious leaders, male and female secret
society leaders and a village youth chairperson who continue to play media-
tion roles in their communities after the reconciliation ceremonies. Such
local actors are also trained in human rights and conflict resolution indicat-
ing the interface between the local and the liberal peace (Tom 2013).
Fambul Tok is a local organization, but it is not only local, it is also
global, and much of its success in obtaining funding to carve out a
niche for itself rests on its ability to communicate to different audi-
ences. It was established as a collaborative effort between a John
Caulker (Sierra Leone) and a US-based human rights activist, Libby
Hoffman, who already had established an organization in the USA, the
Catalyst for Peace that had been involved in attempts to mobilize
resources for peace in a number of countries. It was through this
connection that the widely acclaimed documentary ‘Fambul Tok’ was
made and much of the media savvy approach of Fambul Tok was made
possible through the organization’s ability to build global linkages that
effectively places the organization somewhere in between the local
realities of Sierra Leone and a world of global consumers and suppor-
ters of peacebuilding. This has clearly contributed to the maneuver-
ability and agency of the organization, but it also means that Fambul
Tok constantly needs to negotiate its local agenda with international
concerns, suggesting that even if it has agency, it is an agency that
depends on (1) the general nature of how peacebuilding is implemen-
ted, for example increasingly through local partners, (2) arguing and
constantly proving its local credentials, while (3) still operating within
acceptable and recognizable global frames of peacebuilding.
Hope-Sierra Leone was started in 1999 by John Bangura who lived as a
refugee in Denmark. Through the support of friends in Denmark and
other Sierra Leone refugees, Hope-Sierra Leone was started with the
establishment of a ‘peace and reconciliation farm’ that brought together
ex-combatants and members of local communities. This initial work was
expanded in 2005 with the implementation of the ‘Moral Foundations of
Democracy’ program and the ‘Post-Elections Media and Governance’
project in 2008. As in the case of Fambul Tok, the agency of Hope-
Sierra Leone also rests on its local-global connections and its exposure
to the global consumers and supporters of (liberal) peacebuilding,
illustrated by various narratives it has produced concerning the alleged
transformations in John Bangura’s life from hatred to compassion and
reconciliation. One illuminating example is the tale told about him in
Michael Henderson’s book No Enemy to Conquer: Forgiveness in an
Unforgiving World that supposedly traces the personal and emotional
journey of John Bangura from a victim, a refugee harboring sentiments
of hatred and revenge to a person who has come to embrace forgiveness
and reconciliation as the only viable path forward for his war-torn country.
While Hope-Sierra Leone has stressed the value of indigenous culture
and values in enhancing societal reconciliation and solving political and
social challenges, the organization has also deliberately included interna-
tional peacebuilding agendas in its local peacebuilding activities. For
instance, Hope-Sierra Leone’s peace initiative, ‘Moral Foundation for
Democracy’, involved the use of main concepts in the liberal language
such as democracy, human rights and rule of law in its campaign to
promote tolerance, coexistence, nonviolence and respect for diversity
and cohesion, together with traditional ways of resolving conflicts includ-
ing paramount chiefs offering prayers to ancestors for peace, unity and
protection. In November 2010, Hope-Sierra Leone facilitated what it
called a ‘Heart to Heart Dialogue’ in Mattru Jong (Bonthe district),
which this author attended. This brought state officials, political oppo-
nents and ordinary people as well as traditional leaders from Bombali
district (northern Sierra Leone) and Bonthe district (southern Sierra
Leone) together to engage in a dialogue aimed at promoting peace and
reconciliation between the two regions as well as the local community.
At this ‘Heart to Heart Dialogue’, Hope-Sierra Leone pointed out that it
believed in tradition, that ‘we do not lose focus’, that ‘We are not Britain
or America’ and that ‘we need to deal with the issues between ourselves’
thus, placing the local community at the center of peace.
Yet, even though it allowed local leaders to take a leading role and used
traditional approaches to peacemaking, the peace initiative also brought in
elements of liberal peacebuilding including human rights, democracy and

the rule of law producing a hybrid approach to peacebuilding that plays to
different audiences at the same time, placing the organization somewhere
in between local Sierra Leone and the globalized version of peacebuilding.
I will now turn to the case of a local NGO, CAPS, a local organization
that offers psychosocial and physical interventions to survivors of war atro-
cities, and victims of torture, rape and domestic violence through utilization
of modern/Western and traditional mental health practices. As in the case
of Fambul Tok and Hope-Sierra Leone, the agency of CAPS also rests on its
local-global connections, and its exposure to the global consumers and
supporters of (liberal) peacebuilding. The organization was established in
2005 by Sierra Leoneans who were employed and received training from
the Centre for Victims of Torture (CVT), a US-based international orga-
nization that specializes in psychological treatment of survivors of torture.
Besides working in close connection with CVT, CAPS has also received
support from other donor partners across the globe including DIGNITY –
Danish Institute Against Torture, a Danish human rights institute and the
International Rehabilitation Council for Torture Victims.
CAPS first started operating in 2006 in Kailahun district, where the civil
war started and in 2008 it extended its work to Sierra Leone’s largest
diamond producer, Kono district, where heavy fighting between conflicting
parties was largely attributed to their need to control diamonds. Both
districts are in eastern Sierra Leone. In its work, CAPS also educates the
community on human rights as a means to deal with issues such as domestic
violence, and it has facilitated cleansing ceremonies in villages in order to
end civil war-related tensions among community members. For instance, it
has engaged in psychosocial peacebuilding in Sengema village in Kailahun
district. In this village, serious local tensions had remained in the post-war
period (personal interview, CAPS counselor, November 2010). In 2010,
more than eight years after the official end of Sierra Leone’s civil war and the
introduction of the liberal peace project in the country, villagers from
Sengema invited CAPS to facilitate a cleansing ceremony in the village in
order to end civil war-related tensions among community members. The
locals linked the tensions with the intra-village conflict that erupted during
the war, which saw atrocities and violations of social norms being com-
mitted in the village, including the shedding of blood, incest, mass graves
and ‘violating the bush’, for example, by having sex in the bush (personal
interview, CAPS counselor, November 2010). This localized sub-war that
developed in Sengema village was due to the fact that its inhabitants had
joined rival militia groups, particularly the Kamajor warriors and the RUF.
Since the village was not close to the highway, villagers felt safe and decided
not to flee their village during the war. However, it became a battleground
between Kamajor warriors and RUF rebels who were inhabitants of
Sengema village. Local tensions continued in the post-war period, and
warring parties would fight against each other, even over minor issues.
When, in 2010, a group of young men from the village approached
CAPS for support, the organization visited the village and engaged in a
community dialogue in order to identify the root causes of the tensions.
Villagers identified the civil war and its consequences as the main causes of
tensions within the village. In addition, villagers attributed their problems,
including poor harvests, to angry ancestors. Ancestors are believed to act as
guarantors and the basis of peace and security. It is crucial to note that the
relationship of ancestors to the living is often described as ambivalent, ‘both
punitive and benevolent and sometimes even capricious’ (Kopytoff 1971).
In general, in order for ancestors to guarantee individual and social peace as
well as security, the living ought to maintain harmonious relationships with
fellow members of the community, ensuring that they do everything pos-
sible to address threats or breaches for the purpose of maintaining such
relationships. Moreover, it is vital for community members to respect social
norms and values. Failure to do so is believed to attract punishment from
ancestors. Peace in this case is conceived as a gift from ancestors.
Villagers in Sengema noted a causal link between social enmity and
misfortune. They believed that ancestors were punishing them for the
various violations that happened during the war, hence the poor harvests
and violence in the village. As such, for the villagers, the solution lay in
conducting a cleansing ceremony and reconnecting with the ancestors –
the custodians of peace and security. Doing so would mean replacing
social enmity with social harmony.
Various stakeholders attended the cleansing ceremony that CAPS facili-
tated, including the paramount chief, section chiefs, NGO workers and
women. The cleansing ceremony included perpetrators being asked to
publicly confess their wrongdoings, showing remorse and seeking forgive-
ness from their victims, appeasing ancestors and offering libation. For such
communities, forgiveness is prioritized, since it is essential for building
peace and the restoration of harmonious relationships.
Three months later, CAPS visited the village to assess the situation and
found out that tensions had ceased. Moreover, the villagers had established
a ‘peace hut’ where they would meet to discuss issues affecting them and
their community as well as settling disputes instead of resorting to violence.

The villagers used customary institutions and ways of dealing with conflicts,
which allowed them to enter into a social contract among themselves as well
as with their ancestors for the purpose of establishing and maintaining
harmonious relations, enabling them to retain agency, autonomy and own-
ership. It is crucial to note that peace for such a community is not just a
moral value, but also a spiritual one, and is perceived in relation to both
social and spiritual harmony. And, given that CAPS had gained some form
of legitimacy in the village, it also managed to promote the liberal peace
agenda of human rights there. Since it is also promoting the international
human rights agenda in the communities, it will continue to receive support
from international donors.
CONCLUSION
The combination of the questioning of some of the features of the liberal
peace with the increasingly fortified nature of contemporary external peace-
building which effectively isolates international staff from extensive engage-
ment with locals has opened up an agency of maneuverability for local
innovative actors such as Fambul Tok, Hope Sierra Leone and CAPS who
are able to build extensive local-global networks. The local and the global
embodied in the same organization provides for funding and agency, but it is
an agency that is constrained by the global connections, making them
organizations that can take a slightly different approach, slightly more in
sync with local realities and ideas, but still within the limits of what is
acceptable by the standards set by the globalized world of peacekeeping. It
is therefore an agency that is independent and subordinated at the same time.
As we have seen this provides for an agency that allows for some auton-
omy, but it is an autonomy that has to operate within certain boundary frames
of not only how the conflict, but also post-conflict peacebuilding initiatives
are to be approached. It is and has to be locally grounded as this is increasingly
asked for, but it also needs to have that touch of a globalized vision of a liberal
peace that promises a route to modernity that by and large is in sync with the
basic values of liberalism broadly defined. Local actors and organizations that
can accomplish this double role will thrive in the current climate and may also
gradually be able to enlarge their autonomy and scope of action, but never
beyond what their funders deem to be internationally acceptable. Thus, at
least in the case of Sierra Leone, the liberal peace may present itself in a slightly
less intrusive form, but it is still a far cry from enabling us to speak about a
post-liberal peace in this case. The following chapter goes beyond discussing
power relations existing between local and international actors, and local
responses to international peacebuilding by looking at the different forms of
power at the local level in the context of liberal peacebuilding as these also
have implications on the nature of peace to be produced.
NOTES
1. On tactical and strategic agency in Sierra Leone, see Bøås (2013).
2. On local responses to peacekeeping missions, see Pouligny (2006); Zanotti
(2011) and Mac Ginty (2011).
3. Article 24, section 2 of the Public Order Act of 1965, authorizes paramount
chiefs to disallow the convening or holding of a public meeting in their
chiefdoms.
4. The concept refers to those originated from the community in question.
CHAPTER 9
Youth–Traditional Authorities’ Relations

in Post-War Sierra Leone
This chapter examines the nature of power relations between traditional

authorities and youth (as one aspect of the local) in the context of inter-
national peacebuilding and its implications on the nature of the hybrid
peace that is produced. Since at the center of Sierra Leone’s civil war was a
large number of young people experiencing economic marginalization,
and social and political exclusion, it is crucial to consider their agency as
they interact with traditional authorities in the context of an international
peacebuilding that places emphasis on human rights, good governance,
democracy, accountability, rule of law and so on.
Discussions on the agency of local actors in peacebuilding have placed
much emphasis on the interactions and power relations between interna-
tional and local actors, and the hybrid forms of peace that emerge. It is
crucial not only to engage with the concept of power and power relations
between international actors and local actors, but also power relations
between local actors. This is due to the fact that most violent conflicts in
the developing world have been attributed to issues related to unequal
power relations and abuse of power among locals. In addition, this helps
us to understand the local context as well as whether the hybrid forms of
peace that are being produced are positive or not. This chapter will look at
this in the context of two categories of local actors, traditional authorities
and the youth in post-war Sierra Leone. There has been a debate within
the journal African Affairs between Richards (2005b), Jackson (2006)

DOI 10.1057/978-1-137-57291-2_9
and Fanthorpe (2005) on chiefs, politics and hybridity in Sierra Leone.

However, since it sits within the Africanist literature, it is ignored by many
international relations scholars. Yet, such literature is crucial in helping us
understand the nature of political power at the local level, as well as the
nature of peace being built due to various actors exercising different forms
of power. This chapter, which complements literature on generational
conflicts in Sierra Leone (Boersch-Supan 2012; Manning 2009; Peters
2011a, b; Richards 1996), focuses on youth-traditional authority relations
in post-war Sierra Leone emphasizing different kinds of power that these
actors might have in the context of an international peace initiative that
places emphasis on the liberal peace. It argues that while recent critics of
the liberal peace have criticized it for failing to empower the grassroots, in
the case of rural youths in Sierra Leone, the liberal peace has contributed
to the creation of spaces for resisting and negotiating with chiefdom
authorities. This, however, is not resulting in the production of positive
hybrid peace, as chiefs have employed counter strategies aimed at control-
ling youths. The chapter concludes that more scholarly attention should
be devoted to revealing not just power and power relations between the
‘local’ and the liberal, but it should also engage with power and power
relations at the local level as this also has an influence on the nature of
peace to be produced.
POWER, YOUTHS, AND TRADITIONAL AUTHORITIES

AND INSTITUTIONS
In this book, power is understood to be present in moments of domina-
tion and resistance, and both youths and traditional authorities in Sierra
Leone’s chiefdoms exercise it in various ways. Chapter 6 noted that the
chiefdom – an outcome of British colonial rule – is the basic unit of
administration in the hinterland under the rule of a Paramount Chief.
Other title holders and institutions as well as important figures in the
chiefdom who exercise various forms of power include TAs, the chief-
dom council (an assembly of elders and notables), subchiefs (section and
town chiefs), the chiefdom speaker (an aide to the Paramount Chief),
village heads, the local court, court functionaries, the chiefdom lock-up
cell, chiefdom treasury, chiefdom police and elders. Unlike subchiefs,
Paramount Chiefs act as ‘state agents and exercise executive, adminis-
trative and judicial powers’ (Jackson 2011: 205). A Paramount Chief can
issue a warrant of arrest with the chiefdom police effecting the arrest.
9 YOUTH–TRADITIONAL AUTHORITIES’ RELATIONS . . . 181
As pointed out in Chapter 6, during my fieldwork in Sierra Leone

traditional authorities, youths, NGOs and villagers pointed out that forced
labor, social exclusion and heavy fines were among the factors that led
young men to flee rural areas, with some ending up becoming easy recruits
to the RUF which promised to improve their lives. Youths, disenfranchised
by customary traditions and law, in dire need of empowerment resorted to
armed rebellion to revenge against a system that oppressed them and
blocked their upward social mobility, aiming to gain respect, power and
status over the ‘big men’ and also as a survival strategy. Youths seized
power from chiefs and the elders through the use of violence, rather than
obtaining it through age and experience (Bolten 2012). This only paid off
in the short term since after the civil war, state elites with financial support
from DFID rushed to reassert ‘the gerontocratic social order’ (Bolten
2012: 497) without reforming it, resulting in youth re-marginalization.
In order to escape from this, youths are navigating spaces for agency that
the liberal peace has created in this post-war environment and it is through
this that they are exercising various forms of power, though from a sub-
ordinate position as will be shown in the next sections.
POST-WAR SENSITIZATION
Since a number of analysts have shown that there exists a close connection
between youth exclusion and the Sierra Leonean conflict, there has been a
serious concern among policy-makers that if the ‘problem of youth’
(especially youth marginalization and unemployment) is not addressed,
youth are more likely to be vulnerable to the forces that lead to violence.
In the post-war period, international organizations including the United
Nations and the World Bank, NGOs and the government of Sierra Leone
have promoted the rhetoric of youth empowerment, part of the liberal
peace agenda in the country that emphasizes issues such as human rights,
development, democracy, participation and inclusion. ‘Sensitization’ has
been seen as a viable vehicle to promote this.
Donors, international NGOs and the state, civil society organizations
have been involved in extensive ‘awareness raising campaigns’ or ‘sensiti-
zation programs’.1 A town chief stated that prior to the civil war, chiefs
abused power out of ignorance as ‘most [of them] did not know what they
were doing’ since no ‘sensitization’ and workshops were conducted
(Town Chief (c), personal interview, November 2010). A councilor talk-
ing about power struggles between Paramount Chiefs and district councils
also raised the issue of sensitization when he pointed out that chiefs view
the local government as a threat to their power, but ‘we are not taking
away their power’ and as such, ‘the national government needs to sensitize
the chiefs’ (Kailahun District Councilor, personal interview, November
2009). Talking about female genital mutilation, sexual abuse and women
empowerment, a local NGO, Advocacy Movement Network which also
promote youth empowerment, noted that ‘educated women should sen-
sitize other women’ so as to champion their cause (personal interview,
December 2009). A former civil defense forces commander pointed out
that it is crucial to ‘sensitize the chiefs in dealing with certain cases or
youths’ (personal interview, November 2010). Villagers’ resistance to
paying local tax is attributed to inadequate sensitization, yet at a leadership
training workshop that I attended, participants pointed out that their
refusal to pay tax was due to the government’s failure to provide basic
services: ‘Until we see development, then we will pay’ (participant,
Leadership Training Workshop, Kailahun, November 2010). The concept
‘sensitization’ has become a buzzword in post-war Sierra Leone, and as
Shepler (2005: 200) has stated, it ‘means a range of things in current
usage’. It is not just used by government bodies, the United Nations and
NGOs, but ordinary people and communities have also adopted it as they
deal with issues in their communities and the country. Sensitization, in this
context, refers to all efforts aimed at making individuals and communities
aware of a particular issue or issues.2 For Krech, in Sierra Leone, sensitiza-
tion refers to ‘community awareness raising but also implies social market-
ing’ as in the case of polio vaccination campaigns ‘Kick Polio Out of West
Africa’ (cited in Shepler 2005: 200). Although a number people whom I
interacted with in Sierra Leone, including the town chief cited above,
associated sensitization with ignorance, it should be pointed out that
sensitizing people is not necessarily about dealing with ignorance (though
in some cases people may be ignorant), but it may be an advocacy strategy
aimed at educating them or getting them change current practices that
they already know are, for example, oppressive, discriminatory or harmful
practices. For instance, communities or individuals may already be familiar
with the risks associated with female genital mutilation, but ongoing
sensitization activities may stimulate them to take action or change their
attitudes with respect to issues being looked at.
Post-conflict NGO sensitization in Sierra Leone is conducted via a
wide range of activities including radio jingles, cultural activities, com-
munity-level discussions, radio discussion programs, talks to schools,
religious meetings, street theatre and posters. Other strategies include

the training of awareness-raising groups within communities that engage
in awareness campaigns (War Child Holland, personal interview,
December 2009). It is through these activities that youths, traditional
authorities and their communities have been ‘sensitized’ to issues such as
power and power relations, behavior and attitudinal change, access to
justice, paying taxes, human rights, security, development, accountabil-
ity, democracy, good governance, transparency, gender equality and rule
of law, among others. Such NGO liberalist empowerment programs have
contributed to the creation of new spaces and platforms through which
marginalized groups such as women and youths are able to participate
and advocate accountability, good governance, human rights and
democracy at the chiefdom level as well as challenge practices that, for
example, marginalize and oppress them. Yet, it is crucial to point out
that NGOs are also using such sensitization programs to turn youths
into disciplined and responsible citizens as ‘liberalist empowerment
programs [ . . . ] are not generally sympathetic to the idea of the power
of rebelliousness and social banditry’ (Hobsbawn 1965 cited in Durham
2007: 108). Such NGOs as well as the state are pushing for a specific
form of youth empowerment, which according to Durham (2007: 108)
is similar to Foucault’s (1980) notion of power as ‘diffused in projects of
governmentality that constitute disciplined subjects and self-governing
citizens, and not for power as the ability to exercise raw force to
influence others’.3 As will be shown below, it is against this background
as well as young people’s experience of the civil war (Richards 2002)
that we see a ‘sensitized’ rural youth claiming more rights for themselves
than before, thus helping shape youth agency (also see Boersch-Supan
2012). However, this for now has not been very effective since chiefdom
authorities possess both coercive and material power which they use to
control the youth.
RELATIONS BETWEEN YOUTHS AND CHIEFDOM AUTHORITIES

IN THE POST-WAR PERIOD
In spite of the reintroduction of district councils as well as a host of

grievances against chiefs, the chieftaincy system is still respected in much
of Sierra Leone. Furthermore, in rural areas, chiefs act as a crucial barrier
against abuse of power from state elites (Fanthorpe 2005; Sawyer 2008).
The chieftaincy system has remained an integral part of the local govern-
ment system in the country with chiefs continuing to be central actors in
the chiefdoms and also having a lot of influence on daily lives of rural
Sierra Leoneans. Chiefs continue to play an important role in organizing
community development projects (for example, road maintenance), the
provision of security, dispensing justice, dispute resolution, the allocation
of land and control of tenure rights and so on. In addition, chiefs have
successfully integrated themselves in the post-war state and have become
partners with civil society organizations doing development work in rural
Sierra Leone. A recent study has shown that instead of ‘acting as a vehicle
for disciplining chiefs’, Paramount Chiefs have structured civil society
organizations to control society (Acemoglu et al. 2013). It is crucial to
point out that Paramount Chiefs have the power to block civil society
organizations from doing work in their chiefdoms, and this could be one
of the reasons why they have been able to co-opt them. Furthermore, a
number of civil society actors I interviewed claimed to be members of
chiefly ruling families and thus viewed themselves as ‘potential’ Paramount
Chiefs, and as such, such strong ties with traditional authorities and the
chiefdoms could also explain why chiefs have easily co-opted civil society
organizations. Rather than calling for the elimination of the chieftaincy
system, a coalition of Sierra Leonean NGOs called Partners in Conflict
Transformation with the support of Christian Aid as well as youth-
oriented civil society organizations and some scholars, notably Richard
Fanthorpe, are playing a leading role in campaigns for its reform. Youth
leaders whom I interviewed who have been ‘sensitized’ to this issue
supported the idea of democratizing the paramount chieftaincy as part of
reforming the chieftaincy system (group interview, youth leaders,
November 2010). This, for them, would include elections based on uni-
versal suffrage and the use of five-year terms for Paramount Chiefs.4 They
believe that doing so will make Paramount Chiefs more responsive and
accountable to their followers (group interview, youth leaders, 21
November 2010). As such, such youths are convinced that the democra-
tization of the chieftaincy system will enable them to have a voice in
decision-making processes in their chiefdom, although this is not always
the case as in most African states, democratization has not resulted in
responsive and more accountable governments.
Youth leaders,5 Paramount Chiefs and town chiefs pointed out that
intergenerational tensions have been on the decrease in recent years
mainly due to NGO ‘sensitization’ programs. In Imperi Chiefdom,
traditional authorities cited youth participation in communal labor as

evidence of good relations existing between them and the youth. As
noted earlier, a town chief attributed chiefs’ abuse of young people in
the pre-war period to a lack of ‘sensitization’ and ignorance (Town Chief
(c), personal interview, November 2010). He then described the relation-
ship between the youth and chiefdom authorities in the post-war period as
‘cordial’ attributing this to ‘sensitization’ via NGO workshops and the
existence of rule of law in the country since ‘if a chief is found on the
wrong side of the law he gets fined’. However, during my fieldwork, youth
accounts of intergenerational tensions were common. Youths felt
excluded from power and decision making as well as marginalized in
socioeconomic terms. For instance, a youth leader accused chiefdom elites
(‘the Paramount Chief, the treasury clerk and senior men and women
around them’) of corruption and not supporting youth development
initiatives in the chiefdom – ‘the voice of the youth is hardly heard’
(Youth leader (a), personal interview, November 2010). While chiefs
and elders claimed that they now consult with youth on chiefdom affairs,
from the youth’s responses, they are merely informed and not involved in
the decision-making process and have no say regarding financial matters,
for instance, how chiefdom development funds should be used (also see
Boersch-Supan 2012; Manning 2009). Yet, elders want them to partici-
pate in communal labor for free when, according to youths, funds and
structures for carrying out development work within the chiefdom exist.
Chiefs were accused of not using these structures since this would mean
paying salaries to laborers for doing chiefdom development work from
sources such as the chiefdom’s development funds. As such, corrupt and
selfish chiefdom authorities would rather use the chiefdom working days
to force the youth to do development work on those days without paying
them with communal labor absentees being summoned to the local court
and asked to pay fines.
Furthermore, youths pointed out that if they openly criticized chiefs
and the chiefdom development council, they got served with criminal
summons and warned that their actions could incite violence in the chief-
dom. In addition, youths (some of whom work as local coordinators for
local NGOs) noted that when they ‘sensitize’ villagers about their rights
and responsibilities, as well as traditional authorities’ abuse of chiefdom
development funds and the need for traditional authorities to be accoun-
table and transparent, traditional authorities accuse them of divulging
‘chiefdom secrets’ and threaten to send them to the chiefdom lock-up
cell. By ‘sensitizing’ villagers on issues related to chiefdom development as

well as their rights, such youths are reminded that their actions are
tantamount to disturbing ‘peace’ in the chiefdom and, as such, are labeled
‘trouble makers’. In response to these threats, a youth leader pointed out
that ‘we openly praise them and grumble later’ (youth leaders, group
interview, November 2010). Furthermore, youths have also registered
their grievances through collective action using nonviolent protests
including boycotting communal labor (for example, road rehabilitation
projects) in chiefdoms, as a tool to effect positive changes in chiefdom
governance (TAs, group interview, November 2009; group interview,
youth leaders, November 2010; program officer, Skype interview,
September 2013). Youths are claiming their rights against chiefdom
authorities and have been resisting communal labor pointing out that at
least they now know their rights as well as know that a chief can be
arrested, although in reality it is difficult for them to take a chief to
court (youth leaders, group interview, November 2010). For instance,
TAs said that in Kenema, youths have organized resistance via communal
work boycotts against town chiefs demanding them to be accountable for
‘shake hand’6 cash from investors (TAs, group interview, November
2009). Youths are demanding a share of ‘shake hand’ since they do not
get paid for communal work and are not employed. Yet, the TAs claimed
that ‘shake hand’ is part of their tradition and it cannot be accounted for
since its purpose is to ‘open the door for discussions’ between the chief
and the ‘stranger’ (an outsider). A visitor paying ‘shake hand’ cash to the
chief is viewed as showing respect to him/her. While chiefs and other
traditional authorities see ‘shake hand’ as ‘a must’, NGOs and bilateral
organizations such as the then The Deutsche Gessellschaft für Technische
Zusammenarbeit (GTZ) and now the Deutsche Gesellschaft für
Internationale Zusammenarbeit (GIZ) view it as a bribe and are discoura-
ging chiefs from demanding it (TAs, group interview, November 2009;
GIZ Project Manager, December 2009). Since the chief receives ‘shake
hand’ in an enclosed envelope, the ‘youth think that the chief has been
given a lot of money since it is not accounted for’ (TAs, group interview,
November 2009). Tribal Authorities pointed out that youths are ques-
tioning because NGOs are advocating transparency and accountability,
and this conflicts with the customary practice of ‘shake hand’ which by its
nature does not require transparency and accountability on the part of the
chief. While traditional authorities see NGOs as influencing their ‘chil-
dren’ to revolt against them, it can be argued that international
peacebuilding and development in Sierra Leone has created new oppor-

tunities and alternative social spaces for youths (and other marginalized
groups such as women) to challenge and negotiate with traditional autho-
rities.7 The youth who are demanding accountability and transparency
from chiefdom elites should be viewed as claiming accountability and
transparency from below. In this regard, such youths have used the inter-
national human rights discourse to challenge traditional authorities as well
as customary practices such as communal labor and ‘shake hand’ (also see
Boersch-Supan 2012).
However, chiefs and elders view human rights as an imposition from
outside (they point out that ‘human rights are for whites’ or ‘it’s Western
culture’) and also as an attempt to delegitimize their custom, and thus
resist them (TAs, group interview, November 2009; Town Chief (d),
personal interview, November 2010; Community leaders workshop,
November 2010).8 As such, chiefs and elders have employed a mix of
strategies to counter youth resistance and external pressure (also see
Boersch-Supan 2012). A youth leader complained that whenever youths
approach elders with grievances against chiefs, elders tell them stories
about past events which they have no idea about and ask them to wait
their turn (Youth leader (a), personal interview, November 2010). While
youths have attempted to use knowledge on human rights, participation,
democracy and so on, gained through ‘sensitization’ programs to make
demands against traditional authorities, this has not been quite effective as
elders and chiefs have resisted this form of knowledge and, have, for
example, used stories of events not known to youths to control them.
This does not mean that chiefs and elders are not attending awareness
raising campaign workshops or training on human rights, accountability,
good governance and so on. For instance, an official at a regional office for
the HRCSL said that HRCSL trained all Paramount Chiefs in human
rights and awarded them certificates calling them ‘human rights practi-
tioners’; however, ‘only 10 percent’ of the chiefs implemented what
HRCSL taught them, and most did the opposite (personal interview,
November 2010). Yet, all the chiefs I interviewed claimed to be human
rights practitioners and democrats as well as accommodating to various
social groups as indicated in the composition of chiefdom committees
(interviews with Paramount Chiefs and subchiefs in Bo, Kenema,
Kailahun, Mattru Jong and Sierra Rutile, November 2010). Using the
liberal peace language of inclusion and democracy, one Paramount Chief
called the chiefdom committee in his chiefdom, ‘the chiefdom parliament’
in which all groups are represented (personal interview, Paramount

Chief, November 2010). Yet, Paramount Chiefs appoint members of
the chiefdom committee meaning that they have control over them. In
this case, chiefs have shown a remarkable ability to ‘re-invent’ themselves
in the face of social and political changes without sacrificing their claims
to authority. As such, traditional authorities have an advantage over the
youth since they possess both public knowledge and knowledge of past
events that youths do not, and also exercise coercive and material power
to control them, as well as enjoy support from political elites and the
majority of the rural population. Such traditional authorities keep secret
such knowledge of past events and evoke it when faced with a situation
with youths. For instance, youths are told stories about youths who went
crazy or who mysteriously died after questioning the authority of the
chief or elders (program officer, Skype interview, September 2013).
Since youths have no idea about this, they cannot challenge it. As
Murphy (1980, 200) notes, ‘Threat of death creates an atmosphere of
fear which is more important than the actual knowledge taught to the
youth.’
As such, while intergenerational tensions have been on the decrease
in the post-war period, traditional authorities are still exploiting their
power and appear not to have learned their lesson and accept the need
for accountability, and with the support of state elites they have
managed to maintain the status quo. As a result, hybrid forms of
peace and politics (that include elements of the liberal peace and
custom) that are being created in such contexts may not lead to
positive hybridity.
CONCLUSION
This chapter has examined power relations and forms of power that youths
and traditional authorities are exercising in their interaction in the post-
war context. Youths have drawn on the human rights discourse to create
spaces for resisting as well as negotiating with chiefdom authorities to
secure economic and political advantages. Youths who view traditional
authorities as corrupt and failing to protect their interests against politi-
cians are claiming accountability from below. Furthermore, youths have
used nonviolent resistance, especially, communal work boycotts to make
demands against traditional authorities. Since elders and chiefs need
youths’ physical strength they are forced to negotiate with them.
Traditional authorities tend to associate ‘good relations’ between them and

the youth when youths are participating in communal work. Yet, youths resent
this form of unpaid work and it is also a source of conflict between them and
traditional authorities. Despite the fact that youths have exercised resisting
power against traditional authorities, traditional authorities continue to dom-
inate them. For instance, chiefs and elders have used knowledge of past events
that youths have no idea about and customary law to control and dominate
youths. Furthermore, chiefs possess material power since they have control
over the local economy and land which most youths do not have and thus have
remained vulnerable to manipulation by them. While intergenerational ten-
sions have been on the decrease in the post-war period, traditional authorities
are still exploiting their power and appear not to have learned their lesson and
accept the need for accountability, and with the support of state elites they
have managed to maintain the status quo. As such, hybrid forms of peace and
politics (that include elements of the liberal peace and custom) that are being
created in such contexts may not lead to durable peace. In this regard, more
scholarly attention should be devoted to revealing not just power and power
relations between the ‘local’ and the liberal, but should also engage more with
power and power relations at the local level. Furthermore, more work needs to
be done identifying the different types of hybridity including positive forms of
hybridity that could help in creating conditions for durable peace. The follow-
ing chapter attempts to identify the different types of hybridity that are
emerging or have emerged in Sierra Leone, and their usefulness in promoting
‘post-liberal’ and emancipatory peace.
NOTES
1. The two concepts are often used interchangeably.
2. I appreciate Ezekiel Conteh for this idea.
3. For instance, the state has established programs such as the National Youth
Development Program that seek to mainstream, extend, mobilize and coor-
dinate youth-focused action as well as the country has witnessed the estab-
lishment of formal youth structures including youth-led organizations
addressing a wide range of youth-related issues, the National Youth
Commission, district and regional youth officers, chiefdom youth leaders,
chiefdom and district youth councils, the Ministry of Youth Affairs and a
Presidential Youth Aide.
4. The youth leaders would prefer successful candidates to come from ‘ruling
houses’ which they regarded as ‘our tradition’.
5. Youth leaders represent youths in various local bodies including chiefdom

committees as well as chair youth organizations. However, as Manning
(2009) and Boersch-Supan (2012) have noted, some of them are above
the age of 35 as well as connected to the ruling families with economic
power to the extent that some youths become dependent on them, espe-
cially when such youth leaders pay fines for them.
6. A ‘shake hand’ is a gift in the form of money that a person gives to the chief
when he/she meets him for the first time, before he/she informs the chief
his/her purpose of visit.
7. One of the youth leaders I interviewed also monitors local court proceed-
ings. Youths are also involved in various chiefdom committees.
8. For instance, at a community leaders workshop in Kailahun District, all 14
male participants complained about being told that ‘you do not beat pikini
[a child]’ – in reference to the ban on beating children (November 2010).
CHAPTER 10
In Search for Emancipatory Hybridity

in Sierra Leone
In Chapter 5, I noted that in view of the mixed and disappointing record

of liberal peacebuilding and also stressing the significance of the local
context in influencing peacebuilding outcomes, some critical scholars
have sought to seek potential alternatives to the liberal peace model.
Such scholars have analyzed the ‘new’ distinctive forms of peace and
politics that are neither liberal nor ‘local’ that are produced as the liberal
peace and the ‘local’ coexist, that is, hybrid forms of peace and politics. It
is argued that these hybrid forms of peace and politics could be more
inclusive than the liberal peace and might gain legitimacy from a wide
range of actors in post-conflict societies.
However, the emerging body of literature on hybridity in the context of
international peacebuilding and statebuilding has given little attention to
various ways in which hybridity can be manifested in post-conflict envir-
onments. A more rigorous development of the concept offers a better
understanding of it and its usefulness in peacebuilding. This is also useful
for distinguishing forms of hybridity that are emancipatory/transforma-
tory from those that result in the reinforcement of elites’ power and the
exclusion and marginalization of most of the population in post-war
societies. This chapter examines the different types of hybridity that are
being produced in Sierra Leone and their implications for building durable
and sustainable peace.
Chapter 5 has offered a conceptualization of hybridity, discussions of
hybridity and hybrid political orders in the context of international

DOI 10.1057/978-1-137-57291-2_10
peacebuilding and statebuilding as well as a discussion of Belloni’s typol-

ogy of hybrid peace governance. This chapter attempts to apply Belloni’s
typology of hybridity in the context of Sierra Leone as well as expands this
to include emancipatory hybridity. The chapter discusses the various ways
in which hybridity is being manifested in Sierra Leone and identifies the
winners and losers. This chapter argues that not all forms of hybridity
being produced in Sierra Leone will lead to durable peace (as also shown
in the previous chapter); however, there is a possibility that emancipatory
hybridity may emerge from below involving interactions between liberal
peace-oriented local NGOs and the grassroots.
INFORMAL INTERACTIONS BETWEEN INFORMAL

AND FORMAL INSTITUTIONS
Despite international actors’ attempt to create an impersonal political

system in Sierra Leone, the institutional culture continues to be influenced
by traditional patterns and institutions. As shown in Chapters 6 and 9,
rather than mobilizing citizens through state institutions, political elites
have combined both state and local institutions and actors, though giving
much preference to local institutions and networks, especially the institu-
tion of the Paramount Chief.1 As such, informal institutions, and illiberal
norms and practices coexist with a modern state. Since the state has
remained weak and ineffective, political elites have continued to use
patronage networks in order to consolidate their power and rule. For
instance, a Sierra Leonean adviser to the president for policy and strategy
informed me that the state’s approach to non-state institutions such as
religious leaders, village elders and secret societies has been to ‘befriend
them’, ‘recognize them’ and ‘give them their own space’ since ‘if you
abolish [them] you will be voted out of power [ . . . ] leave them where
they are and do not disturb’ (personal interview, December 2009). He
further pointed out that the state is working ‘indirectly’ with these infor-
mal institutions and actors in order to consolidate peace, order and
security. Although he claimed that the state works indirectly for peace
through these institutions, it appears state elites have involved informal
organizations as a strategy to consolidate the status quo and peace among
themselves as well as control rural populations and their territories – that
is, not as an attempt to consolidate peace in respect of what citizens want.
Government elites have offered support, bribes and incentives including
10 IN SEARCH FOR EMANCIPATORY HYBRIDITY IN SIERRA LEONE 193
cash to paramount chiefs in return for their support and loyalty. For
instance, it has been observed that whenever chiefs fail to hand over
collected revenue to the district councils or come into conflict with
them, the central government has always sided with them since, ‘a
Paramount Chief can still deliver “40,000 votes” to a political party at
election time’ which a councilor cannot (Campaign for Good Governance,
Methodist Church in Sierra Leone and Network Movement for Justice
and Development 2009: 6).
As such, state elites’ preoccupation with consolidating the status quo
is resulting in a type of hybridity in which formal institutions are
accommodated with informal institutions. In this way, state elites are
attempting to reconcile their interests with those of non-state elites in
the country for their own benefit. This approach contradicts and is in
conflict with the Western notion of the modern state (that of a single
sovereign) that the British and other international actors want to create
in Sierra Leone. Indeed, state elites’ use of non-state elites is aimed at
protecting regime stability rather than promoting the welfare and needs
of ordinary people. In addition, state elites are aware of the struggle
between the liberal peace and traditional/local paradigms and are also
aware that it is impossible to dismantle entirely informal institutions and
customary practices without meeting stiff resistance from the hinter-
land. As pointed out in Chapter 7, despite traditional authorities’ role
in the outbreak of the civil war and their continued patron–client
relationships with government elites for their personal gain, recent
research has shown that the general feeling among Sierra Leoneans is
that the chieftaincy system is an important and legitimate local govern-
ment institution which should play a crucial role in the country’s future
(Fanthorpe 2005; Sawyer 2008). Although a number of rural intervie-
wees (especially youths and women) grumbled about chiefs and chief-
dom councils’ abuse of chiefdom development funds and their failure to
involve them in decision-making processes, they expressed more loyalty
and support to them than the local councils. A councilor pointed out
that rural people are more loyal to their chiefs than councilors since
chiefs are in office for life and councilors for four years so they had
rather maintain their relations with their chiefs than councilors (perso-
nal interview, November 2009). As Acemoglu et al. (2013) have
argued, the fact that traditional authorities enjoy considerable support
from their followers is not direct evidence that they are accountable to
them. Besides state elites accommodating local governing elites for
personal gain, they must accept the practices and institutions of the
liberal system to ensure continued international assistance and recogni-
tion. In fact, this system has always worked for state elites. Without
much local legitimacy, the state needs international actors for some
form of legitimacy.
The outcome of state elites’ facilitation of the institutionalization of the
Western model in the name of creating a modern Sierra Leonean state
while maintaining close ties with traditional formats is a hybrid political
order that is quite different from both traditional and liberal forms.
Although this is against the spirit of the liberal peace, it can enhance
regime stability, though it does not necessarily lead to a durable and
sustainable peace, given that it is promoting patronage politics which is
resulting in the marginalization of most of the population and, at the same
time, entrenching the power of local governing elites. This, of course, is
creating tensions between local governing elites and their followers and
has always been a bone of contention among the people. As such, this type
of hybridity – in situations in which patronage politics is entrenched –
should be viewed as regressive since state and local governing elites, and
their patrons tend to benefit from it and it fails to serve the interests of
most of the population. As a consequence, many ordinary Sierra Leoneans
have expressed frustration and disappointment with the post-war state and
its elites’ failure to represent their interests as well as their failure to address
notions of social and economic justice.
THE FORMAL INTEGRATION OF TRADITIONAL INSTITUTIONS

INTO FORMAL STATE STRUCTURES
In Sierra Leone, the institution of the paramount chief and customary

institutions of justice are formally recognized. The government of Sierra
Leone has enacted the Chieftaincy Act of 2009 which provides for the
election, qualification and powers of the paramount chief. The Sierra
Leone Parliament also comprises of 12 Paramount Chief members from
each of the country’s provincial districts in addition to 112 seats for
ordinary members. As discussed in Chapter 4, Sierra Leone’s 1991 con-
stitution recognizes the institution of the Paramount Chief and customary
law. A dual formal legal system exists in the country that is based on a
common law consisting of English law which is administered through
national courts and customary law that is administered through local
courts in 149 chiefdoms (Sawyer 2008). Although most of the rural

population use local courts, such courts’ jurisdiction is limited to minor
criminal offences, land disputes, seduction, witchcraft, divorce and debt.
The roles and responsibilities of Paramount Chiefs and subchiefs include
mediating and settling domestic and land disputes, supervising commu-
nity labor and making and enforcing chiefdom bylaws.
Furthermore, key international organizations and development agen-
cies in the country such as the UN and DFID acknowledge the crucial role
of Paramount Chiefs in governing the hinterland. They have also sup-
ported them; for example, DFID funded the Paramount Chiefs’ restora-
tion program that was established after the civil war. International actors
have also adopted strategies aimed at reforming the local justice system,
however, in line with international human rights norms and governance
systems in order to make them relevant to the modern state that they are
building in Sierra Leone. However, critics have pointed out that since the
institution of the chief in Sierra Leone has been associated with abuse and
patrimonial politics which contributed to the civil war, by supporting the
restoration of paramount chieftaincy, international actors were aiding the
recreation of the preconditions for war in the country (see for example,
Hanlon 2005).
This type of hybridity raises similar challenges I noted in relation to
the first one. Despite their formal recognition and strong support among
the people, local governing elites, such as Paramount Chiefs, have been
integrated into patron–client relations with state elites who use them as
tools for vote mobilization during elections. As a result, ordinary people
view Paramount Chiefs as less responsive and accountable to them, as well
as failing to meet their interests and needs, but personal interests and
interests of state elites (group interview, youth leaders, 21 November
2010). As such, just like the first type of hybridity, this type of hybridity,
in the context of Sierra Leone, does not lead to positive hybridity since it
results in the marginalization and exclusion of those who are not clients
resulting from patronage politics. Yet, exclusion and marginalization are at
the center of Sierra Leone’s civil war.
EMANCIPATORY HYBRIDITY
The third type of hybridity that Belloni identifies is produced when
violent non-state actors and institutions dominate liberal institutions.
This does not apply to post-war Sierra Leone, though it was the case
during the pre-war period and civil war (see Reno 1998). Instead, this
section discusses the possibility of a type of hybridity that can lead to
social transformation or emancipation which will be called here, emanci-
patory hybridity – an understanding of hybridity which challenges not
only the hegemony of the liberal peace, but also dominant local struc-
tures as well as dealing with marginalization and exclusion. This can
result in the overturning of structures of exclusion or oppression and
includes the customary, the promotion of the rights, needs and welfare of
most of the population including the politically and economically
marginalized.
The previous sections looked at types of hybridity that are emerging in
Sierra Leone and have shown that the two types of institutional hybridity
do not lead to positive outcomes given the existence of an entrenched
patronage system that tends to consolidate peace among elites. However,
it is crucial to note that a possibility of emancipatory hybridity exists. For
instance, local NGOs through their awareness-raising campaigns in rural
communities might create spaces for the realization of a form of hybridity
that is emancipatory which involves the coexistence of progressive ele-
ments of the local and the liberal, and may offer positive peace outcomes.
Although the populace appears not to understand what the liberal peace is
since it is a nonindigenous social construct, as discussed in Chapter 8, local
NGOs have adopted peacebuilding strategies that incorporate both inter-
national and local peacebuilding approaches.
In rural sites I visited, emphasis was placed on societal relationships,
welfare, human needs, love, patience and governance. At a two-day
leadership training workshop in Kailahun district, participants con-
ceptualized peace as patience, love, ‘cool heart’ or ‘heart controlled’
(‘inner peace’) as opposed to ‘hot heart’ (‘inner tension/chaos’), nor-
malcy, freedom, happiness, unity, stability and absence of conflict.2 In
this way, peace is largely understood in non-liberal ways, more on the
self and its relationship to its own self as well as others. For Lederach
and Lederach concepts such as ‘cool heart’ reflect ‘a deep understand-
ing that health and healing are inextricably linked to violence and
peace’ (2011: 240). At the Kailahun workshop, participants also
pointed out that peace could be promoted in their communities via
intensive community sensitization3 through the media, community
meetings, religious gatherings and so on, ‘through the gospel’, ‘justice
among the local people’, ‘dialogue/mediation’, ‘recreation at commu-
nity level’, unity, honesty, community development, cultural activities,
games and conflict resolution. These responses reflected the mixed

nature of the workshop participants: religious leaders, youth leaders,
customary authorities and civil society actors. The promotion of com-
munity harmony was also considered as vital.
The rural populace has tended to rely more on local customary institu-
tions such as chieftaincy and secret societies for social order, justice,
security and the promotion of community harmony. Yet, international
peacebuilders focused more on the Truth and Reconciliation Commission
and the controversial Special Court for Sierra Leone for transitional jus-
tice. Grassroots peacebuilding initiatives at the community and intercom-
munity levels include reconciliation and peacebuilding, cleansing
ceremonies and the establishment of local mechanisms for peacebuilding
(with the support of local NGOs) such as ‘peace committees’, ‘peace
trees’,4 ‘peace huts’ or palava5 huts, court barrys,6 ‘peace mothers’
farms and ‘peace clubs’. While in rural communities concepts such as
‘peace hut’ and ‘peace tree’ are new/post-war concepts that NGOs intro-
duced so as to establish sites for bringing villagers/community together to
make and sustain peace, these concepts resonate with traditional practices
of settling disputes and discussing important community/village issues in
a palava hut or under the shade of a traditional village tree, such as a
cotton tree. Traditionally, villagers/communities met and sat under the
shade of a cotton tree to settle disputes, engage in open dialogue over
critical community issues, appease their ancestors and discuss secret society
issues (Town Chief (c), personal interview, November 2010). In post-war
Sierra Leone, people sit under a ‘peace’/‘reconciliation’ tree or in the
‘peace hut’ and discuss problems in their community instead of going to
court.
After the civil war NGOs revived this traditional practice through
transforming the cotton tree to a peace tree, particularly in rural commu-
nities that had court barrys destroyed during the war and had no funds to
rebuild them. The same applies to the palava hut which prior to the war
was a place where villagers or the community met to settle individual or
community palavas (‘community disputes’) and also to discuss important
community issues. In the post-war period the palava hut has been trans-
formed into a ‘peace hut’. These sites have become sites for reconciliation,
building and maintaining peace/community cohesion and planning issues
such as development which are crucial for sustainable peace. Furthermore,
it is in these spaces that local NGOs are using practices and language that
resonate with the local to facilitate the liberal peace. This to some extent is
reshaping social attitudes and beliefs in rural communities, and has seen
them internalizing certain elements of the liberal peace including democ-
racy, accountability, transparency and human rights (especially political
rights), although men tend to resist laws and local NGO campaigns aimed
at promoting and protecting women and children’s rights pointing out
that ‘human rights are for whites’ (TAs, group interview, 28 November
2009; Community leaders workshop, Kailahun district center, 11–12
November 2010). For instance, a town chief noted that the new gender
laws were quite problematic and ‘stupid’, and – pointing to his wife – he
stated while laughing that he could not have the same rights as his
‘property’. However, ‘since NGOs are pushing, we have to accept’
(Town Chief (e), personal interview, November 2010). In this case, it
appears that among chiefs, there is an acceptance of the new laws in public
which could be due to the existence of criminal legal sanctions for non-
compliance, and human rights committees in the chiefdoms and districts
that monitor and report noncompliance, though there is a lack of commit-
ment on the part of some chiefs in making this work.7 This leaves one
wondering whether such resistance to human rights is legitimate resistance
or it is just aimed at blocking the redistribution of resources or the
democratization of power at the local level, or whether it could be an
attempt by locals to engage in conversation with human rights.
Whereas the cotton tree was located closer to the bush, the ‘peace’ tree
is located in the middle of ‘town’. This could be viewed as an attempt by
local NGOs to remove such dialogues from close to or from the bush
which is associated with secrecy/secret societies. This could be for the
purpose of enhancing transparency, openness, accountability, inclusion
and participation of various stakeholders in the community including
women, the youth and children as understood in liberal terms. Here we
see the influence of local NGOs, on local communities since previously
marginalized groups such as the youth and children are being encouraged
to participate in community activities.8 However, there are certain tradi-
tions and practices that secret societies have refused to do in town, but
conduct instead in the secret society bush such as secret courts (if dis-
putants are members of a secret society) and conduct cleansing rituals in
the bush that are essential for reconciliation and social peace (TAs, group
interview, 28 November 2009).9 This could be an expression of such
locals’ autonomy and agency since it is difficult for non-members of such
groups to influence them when they engage in such activities in secret
society bushes.
The post-war practice of discussing issues such as peace, democracy and

development under the shade of a ‘peace tree’ fits into the traditional
practices of engaging in dialogue, consensus-building, mediating and
resolving disputes under the shade of a cotton tree. The idea has been
well received in the rural sites I visited. This has also meant that traditional
practices of peacemaking such as ‘hanging heads’ (consensus-building),
dialogue and community participation as well as settling disputes under a
cotton tree or at a court barry or a ‘secret society bush/court’ (though this
one has a limitation in that it is only accessible to members of the secret
society) have remained in place, though modified given local NGOs’
involvement and their emphasis on the inclusion of marginalized groups
such as children, women and youths. This has meant that the ‘peace tree’
and ‘peace hut’ (or ‘court barrys’) have become sites for creating and
maintaining peace, open dialogue aimed at mediating and resolving con-
flicts, participatory democracy, rebuilding and strengthening relationships,
and promoting community development, social harmony and order
understood in local terms. As such, it has enabled the interaction between
the local institutions and practices, and the liberal peace tenets of devel-
opment, human rights, democracy and good governance.
The liberal peace has relied on civil society organizations/NGOs to
promote its agenda. And as noted in Chapter 8, local organizations which
understand the local context and culture are engaging in conversations
with custom, culture, local politics, tradition and actors resulting in the
hybridization of the ‘local’ and the liberal peace. For instance, rather than
campaigning for the abolition of female circumcision, in 2009, a local
NGO, AMNeT, negotiated a compromise with community authorities
who included chiefs, women secret society leaders (‘mama queens’) and
sowies (initiators) in seven chiefdoms of Kambia district resulting in the
signing of a memorandum of understanding between the NGO and
community authorities which saw its prohibition before the age of 18,
and even at the age of 18, a girl was to be circumcised with her consent
(AMNeT, personal interview, December 2009). It is a solution which
does not lead to the elimination of female circumcision while, at the
same time, it protects minors from forced circumcision. It is these con-
versations between local NGOs and the grassroots that could play an
essential role in creating conditions for sustainable peace in these
contexts.10 The liberal peace project by itself will not achieve this.
Besides the sites that I have mentioned above, Fambul Tok has
established ‘peace mothers’ farms for rural women. These farms were
established in response to the marginalization and stigmatization of

women for publicly speaking about being raped or being subjected to
other forms of sexual abuse during the war (Town Chief (c), personal
interview, November 2010). The organization decided to group the
women and called them ‘peace mothers’ and established ‘peace
mothers’ farms for them, helping them as a group and contributing to
their economic empowerment and respect within their communities as
well as food security and development (Town Chief (c), personal inter-
view, November 2010). This has witnessed communities’ changing
attitudes toward them. As such, ‘peace mothers’ farms have become
sites for relationship building, promoting local peace, dialogue, restor-
ing the dignity of women victims, enhancing community development
and food security, tolerance and acceptance. While the concept of
‘peace mothers’ farm resonates with the communitarian values of rural
communities, it appears that the Forum for Conscience is also advan-
cing a liberal agenda of respect for women’s rights and empowerment.
Although it appears the type of hybridity that is emerging is liberal
peace-oriented, it is positive and has a potential for achieving emancipa-
tion and sustainable peace compared to the other two types of hybridity
discussed earlier.
CONCLUSION
Emerging critiques on liberal peacebuilding have shown that the liberal
peace has never been universally embraced. Such critiques, via empirical
research, have concluded that in post-conflict societies, hybrid forms of
peace and politics are emerging as the liberal peace interacts with the
‘local’. Hybridity is increasingly becoming a common terminology in the
study of contemporary peace building in post-war societies. While the
literature on hybridity has offered us insights into the existence of ‘local’
agency in peacebuilding as well as the limits of the liberal peace, much of
the literature fails to engage with the types of hybridity that are emerging
in these contexts and their implications for durable peace. This chapter has
examined the types of hybridity that are emerging in post-war Sierra
Leone including the possibilities of hybridity that can result in emancipa-
tion. In this chapter, I have argued that the different types of hybridity that
are emerging in Sierra Leone do not necessarily lead to emancipation as
some of them result in ordinary people accommodating themselves to
their situation.
NOTES
1. While I am aware that Paramount Chiefs in Sierra Leone are closely tied into
the Sierra Leonean state system via the 1991 Constitution and legislation,
chiefs and ordinary people I interviewed tended to view the institution of the
Paramount Chief as a non-state institution and prefer it to be autonomous.
2. By highlighting the ‘local’ understanding of peace the chapter attempts to
avoid replicating Western arguments that local actors cannot provide, for
example, peace, security, democracy, human rights and gender equality
without external direction.
3. Local NGOs are using this concept in regard to their work on sensitizing or
raising awareness to the community about such issues as human rights, good
governance, accountability and so on. It is not surprising that this came out
at the workshop since some of the participants were modern civil society
actors.
4. Some NGOs such as Hope Sierra Leone call them ‘peace and reconciliation
trees’. These ‘peace trees’ include cocoa, kola nut, cotton and mango trees.
5. Palava is a term that locals use to mean disputes.
6. A court barry is a building where the local court sits and official meetings
take place. Offices for chiefdom administrators such as the Paramount Chief
and chiefdom speaker are also housed at the court barry.
7. A human rights officer for the Human Rights Commission of Sierra Leone
noted that the commission provides human rights training to all Paramount
Chiefs as well as awards them certificates; however, 10 per cent of the chiefs
implement what the commission teaches them and most of them do the
opposite (personal interview, November 2010).
8. For instance, at peace dialogue between residents of Bonthe and Bombali
districts (facilitated by a local NGO, Hope Sierra Leone) held in Mattru
Jong on 20 November 2010, which I attended, a school girl was given an
opportunity to talk to the participants including Paramount Chiefs and
subchiefs on issues affecting children in her community which can be viewed
as an attempt to promote the rights and welfare children’s rights.
9. In rural Sierra Leone, secret societies remain significant ritual cleansing
experts essential for transforming the wrongdoer and the victim, thus allow-
ing individual/social healing to happen crucial for communal peace. This
does not mean to romanticize them, but to also bring out certain positive
aspects of them essential for peacebuilding.
10. Some of the program officers for these local NGOs are indigenes (originated
from the communities that such NGOs are involved) who know the local
culture and context.
CHAPTER 11
Conclusion
This book has examined the practical application of the liberal peace in
Africa, using Sierra Leone as a reference case study of liberal peace
transition. For the past two decades, external peace interventions in
war-torn societies have been liberal peace-oriented emphasizing political
and economic liberalization, and statebuilding with insufficient attention
to inequality, resource distribution, culture, localized forms of peace-
building and welfare, among others. The liberal peace has been trans-
planted from the West to troubled parts of the developing world with the
hope that it will create sustainable peace in these countries. Moreover,
international actors have exported the liberal peace model from the West
to societies emerging from civil conflict with the expectation that the
‘hosts’ would accept it as it is. They have used conditionalities to enforce
compliance by host countries to their peacebuilding agendas. Yet, as
I have highlighted in the case of Sierra Leone, such international actors
often have limited knowledge about the host country’s political and
social history, local peace agendas and complex local dynamics as well
as little day-to-day contact with the local populations they are supposed
to serve. Despite the liberal peace’s flaws, it merits study because today
we have violent internal conflict situations and liberal internationalists
who are willing and able to go in.
It is vital to point out that, in recent years, studies on contemporary
peacebuilding have undergone significant changes. In response to the

DOI 10.1057/978-1-137-57291-2_11
ambivalences, paradoxes and contradictions in the liberal peace, new

critical approaches have emerged with research interests expanding, and
emphasizing empirical research in post-conflict societies undergoing inter-
national peacebuilding. Such research has offered new perspectives and
interesting insights. These interesting developments in the study of con-
temporary peacebuilding as discussed in this book include the integration
of post-colonial studies into understanding local dynamics in the context
of international peacebuilding, local ownership, the importance of hybrid-
ity, hybridization, local agency, resistance and the everyday in peacebuild-
ing. This reflects a growing interest in ‘local’ perspectives and dimensions
of peace in the context of international peacebuilding – what Mac Ginty
and Richmond (2013) have called a ‘local turn’ in peacebuilding. In this
book, the concepts of hybridity, agency, resistance and power have been
employed to help us pay attention to custom, culture, ordinary citizens
who live on the ‘margins of the state’, and to show how the agency of local
actors as they interact with international actors as well as interact and
engage with one another in post-war Sierra Leone influences peacebuild-
ing outcomes. Local actors have not necessarily acted according to the
demands of international actors, and also local actors have been engaging
with each other in the context of international peacebuilding, with mar-
ginalized groups such as the youth and women drawing on the tenets of
the liberal peace to challenge those in power. However, due to the nature
of power and politics on the ground, this has resulted in hybrid forms of
peace and politics that are not necessarily emancipatory.
Moreover, local actors in their interaction with local NGOs that are
promoting the liberal peace agenda have expressed agency in various ways
forcing the local NGOs to shift their peacebuilding strategies so that they
suit the local context. Such local dynamics have led to the creation of
different types of hybridity in Sierra Leone. However, as this book has
shown, these different types of hybridity do not necessarily lead to eman-
cipatory peace. It is thus crucial to examine the various types of hybridity
that are emerging in post-conflict situations in order to identify and
promote the forms of hybridity that result in positive peace. This also
implies investigating the various forms of power existing, not just between
local actors and international actors, but also how various local actors are
exercising power as they engage each other in the context of international
peace support operations that are biased toward the liberal peace.
However, radical critiques of the liberal peace have tended to criticize
its dominating power in post-war societies. In this literature, ‘power’ is
11 CONCLUSION 205
often viewed in evaluative terms. For instance, local actors’ capacity

to express agency and resisting power including subverting, hybridizing,
modifying and appropriating the ‘blue prints’ for peace that international
actors advance is celebrated and viewed as progressive as well as something
that may result in the development of positive forms of ‘post-liberal’/
hybrid peace (Richmond 2011b; Mac Ginty 2011). Yet, excessive focus on
the power dynamics between international actors and local actors has a
danger of focusing on certain forms of power and overlooking entrenched
patterns of control, hierarchy and dominance at the local level that con-
tributed to the violent conflict in the first place.
While the literature on hybridity in post-conflict situations experiencing
liberal peacebuilding has offered us insights into the existence of ‘local’
agency in peacebuilding as well as the limits of the liberal peace, much of
the literature fails to engage with the types of hybridity that are emerging
in these contexts and their implications for durable peace. As Belloni has
noted, the concept of hybridity is crucial since it ‘suggests the need to
move beyond the ontological and methodological dominance of Western
actors and approaches and to engage with bottom-up local views of
politics and society’ (Belloni 2012: 34). His typology of hybridity has
helped us understand hybridity in post-conflict situations. I have expanded
on his work to examine the types of hybridity that are emerging in post-
war Sierra Leone including the possibilities of hybridity that can result in
emancipation. While (as noted above) the different types of hybridity that
are emerging in Sierra Leone do not necessarily lead to emancipation as
some fail to promote an inclusive political system crucial for the state to
provide public goods or introduce policies aimed at improving the quality
of life of its citizens, there is a possibility of emancipatory hybridity emer-
ging from below, especially through the interactions between the grass-
roots and local NGOs. The case of Sierra Leone reflects the ‘dilemmas’ of
hybridity and shows that hybridity should not be understood as being
essentially good, but can be blind to or reinforce the power structures that
fail to promote human interests, welfare and needs – the very issues that
critical scholars have raised in relation to liberal peacebuilding. Hybridity
is not necessarily emancipatory. This does not mean that the concept
needs to be abandoned in relation to analyzing peacebuilding;
what needs to be discouraged is a descriptive or celebratory use of the
concept which appears to be silent to the continuing forms of politics or
structures of oppression at various levels of society that do not enhance
emancipation or transformation.
Moreover, it is vital to point out that to a certain extent some of the

limitations of liberal peacebuilding are currently in the process of being
recognized. However, it would be incorrect to assume that we are about
to face a shift of paradigmatic proportions. Rather, what we are much
more likely to see is an attempt to adjust the current liberal framework to
different local contexts. This is also taking place in Sierra Leone, and it
does add a level of possible autonomous agency to some local actors
within the field of peacebuilding. However, this is not a space that facil-
itates equal representation and even if such a space can be identified it is
still constrained by the continued existence of the liberal paradigm, albeit
in a slightly less intrusive form.
This is evident, from the case of Fambul Tok, Hope-Sierra Leone
and CAPS. The combination of the questioning of some of the features
of the liberal peace with the increasingly fortified nature of contemporary
external peacebuilding, which effectively isolates international staff from
extensive engagement with locals, has opened up an agency of maneuver-
ability for local innovative actors such as Fambul Tok, CAPS and Hope
Sierra Leone who are able to build extensive local-global networks. The
local and the global embodied in the same organization provides for
funding and agency, but it is an agency that is constrained by the global
connections, making them organizations that can take a slightly different
approach, slightly more in sync with local realties and ideas, but still within
the limits of what is acceptable by the standards set by the globalized
world of peacekeeping. It is therefore an agency that is independent and
subordinated at the same time.
As we have seen this provides for an agency that allows for some
autonomy, but it is an autonomy that has to operate within certain
boundary frames of not only how the conflict, but also post-conflict
peacebuilding initiatives are to be approached. It is and has to be locally
grounded as this is increasingly asked for, but it also needs to have that
touch of a globalized vision of a liberal peace that promises a route to
modernity that by and large is in sync with the basic values of liberalism
broadly defined. Local actors and organizations that can accomplish this
double role will thrive in the current climate and may also gradually be
able to enlarge their autonomy and scope of action, but never beyond
what their funders deem to be internationally acceptable. Thus, at least in
the case of Sierra Leone, the liberal peace may present itself in a slightly
less intrusive form, but it is still a far cry from enabling us to speak about a
post-liberal peace in this case.
11 CONCLUSION 207
This was also evident as Sierra Leone was battling to control the
2014/2015 Ebola outbreak. Several actors, DFID included, still strug-
gle to find ways of incorporating figures of authority on the ground as
Paramount Chiefs and the secret societies as well as local populations in
their assistance strategies, preferring to bypass them as well as the state,
and work with the formal civil society sector and the private sector in the
construction of Community Care Units.1 In the haste to contain
the outbreak, a number of important local actors were ignored as their
simple presence seemed to be lacking from the plans the international
community is making for Sierra Leone.
NOTE
1. DFID also established a £5m Emergency Ebola Response Fund (DEERF)
which was managed by GOAL, an international humanitarian agency. Some
of the conditions for funding stated in the application guidelines prioritized
international nongovernmental organizations (INGOs) over the ‘local’: (1)
‘Direct funding to Government systems is not permitted’; (2) ‘Indirect
support to Government is permitted in partnership with an INGO. In this
case donation in kind of goods is the preferred mechanism’; and (3)
‘National NGOs may apply for funding only in partnership with an
International NGO’ (GOAL 2015).
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Abdullah, I. (1998). ‘Bush Path to Destruction: The Origin and Character of the
Revolutionary United Front/Sierra Leone.’ The Journal of Modern African
Studies, 36 (2), pp. 203–235.
———. (2004). ‘Introduction: Between Democracy and Terror.’ In A. Ibrahim
(ed.), Between Democracy and Terror: The Sierra Leone Civil War. Dakar:
CODESRIA.
Abdullah, I. and Rashid, I. (2004). ‘Rebel Movements.’ In A. Adebajo and
I. Rashid (eds.), West Africa’s Security Challenges: Building Peace in a
Troubled Region. Boulder: Lynne Reinner.
Abrahamsen, R. (2001). ‘Development Policy and the Democratic Peace in Sub-
Saharan Africa.’ Conflict, Security and Development, 1 (3), pp. 79–103.
Acemoglu, D. T. R. and Robinson, J. A. (2013). ‘Chiefs: Elite Control of Civil
Society and Economic Development in Sierra Leone.’ NBER Working Paper
No. 18691. Cambridge, MA: National Bureau of Economic Research.
Addax Bioenergy. ‘Q & A: Addax Bioenergy Sugarcane Ethanol Project in Makeni,
Sierra Leone.’ Available: http://www.addax-oryx.com/AddaxBioenergy/
Addax-Bioenergy-Questions&Answers.pdf. [Accessed 25 January 2011].
Adebajo, A. (2004). ‘Introduction.’ In A. Adebajo and R. Ismail (eds.), West
Africa’s Security Challenges: Building Peace in a Troubled Region. Boulder:
Lynne Reinner Publishers.
Ake, C. (1991). ‘How Politics Underdeveloped Africa.’ In A. Adedeji, O. Teriba
and P. Bugembe (eds.), The Challenge of African Economic Recovery and
Development. London: Frank Cass.

DOI 10.1057/978-1-137-57291-2
210 BIBLIOGRAPHY
Akiwumi, F. A. (2011). ‘Transnational Mining Corporations and Sustainable

Resource-based Livelihoods in Sierra Leone.’ Singapore Journal of Tropical
Geography, 32 (1), pp. 53–70.
Albrecht, P. (2010). ‘Betwixt and Between – Chiefs and Reform of Sierra Leone’s
Justice Sector.’ DIIS Working Paper No. 2010:33. Available: https://www.
ciaonet.org/attachments/17259/uploads. [Accessed 10 August 2013].
Alexander, L. and Schwarzschild, M. (1987). ‘Liberalism, Neutrality, and Equality
of Welfare vs. Equality of Resources.’ Philosophy and Public Affairs, 16 (1),
pp. 85–110.
Alie, J. A. D. (1990). A New History of Sierra Leone. Oxford: Macmillan Publishers
Limited.
———. (2006). ‘A Price for Peace? Justice and Reconciliation in Post-war Sierra
Leone.’ In A. N. Ayissi and R. Poulton (eds.), Bound to Cooperate: Conflict,
Peace and People in Sierra Leone. Geneva: United Nations Institute for
Disarmament Research.
———. (2008). ‘Reconciliation and Traditional Justice: Tradition-based Practices
of the Kpaa Mende in Sierra Leone.’ In L. Huyse and M. Salter (eds.),
Traditional Justice and Reconciliation after Violent Conflict: Learning from
African Experiences. Stockholm: International Institute for Democracy and
Electoral Assistance. Available: http://www.idea.int/sites/default/files/publi
cations/traditional-justice-and-reconciliation-after-violent-conflictlearning-
from-african-experiences_0.pdf. [Accessed 18 October 2009].
All People’s Congress. (1982). The Rising Sun. Freetown: APC Publications.
Allen, J. (2003). Lost Geographies of Power. Oxford: Blackwell Publishers.
Annan, K. A. (1998). ‘The Causes of Conflict and the Promotion of Durable
Peace and Sustainable Development in Africa.’ Report of the Secretary-General
to the Security Council, UN Document No. S/1998/318, April 13. Available:
http://www.un.org/africa/osaa/reports/A_52_871_Causes%20of%
20Confict%201998.pdf. [Accessed 18 May 2008].
———. (2000). We the Peoples: The Role of the United Nations in the 21st Century.
New York: United Nations. Millennium Report of the Secretary-General. UN
Doc. A/54/2000, April 3. New York: United Nations.
———. (2001). ‘Why Democracy is an International Issue.’ Cyril Foster Lecture,
June 19. Available: http://www.un.org/News/ossg/sg/stories/statments_
search_full.asp?statID=11. [Accessed 12 May 2008].
———. (2002). ‘Democracy as an International Issue.’ Global Governance, 8 (2),
pp. 135–142.
———. (2003). Address to the General Assembly. New York, 23 September.
Available: https://www.un.org/webcast/ga/58/statements/sg2eng030923.
htm. [Accessed 14 April 2016].
Archibald, S. and Richards, P. (2002). ‘Converts to Human Rights? Popular Debate
About War and Justice in Rural Sierra Leone.’ Africa, 72 (3), pp. 339–367.
BIBLIOGRAPHY 211
Audit Service Sierra Leone. (2014). Report on the Audit of the Management of the
Ebola Funds. May–October. Retrieved 12 May 2016 from http://www.audi
tservice.gov.sl/report/assl-report-on-ebola-funds-management-may-oct-
2014.pdf.
Autesserre, S. (2014). Peaceland: Conflict Resolution and the Everyday Politics of
International Intervention. New York: Cambridge University Press.
Auyero, J. (1999). ‘From the Client’s Point(s) of View: How People Perceive and
Evaluate Political Clientelism.’ Theory and Society, 28 (2), pp. 297–334.
Bachrach, P. and Baratz, M. S. (1962). ‘Two Faces of Power.’ The American
Political Science Review, 56 (4), pp. 947–952.
Bacik, G. (2008). Hybrid Sovereignty in the Arab Middle East: The Case of Kuwait,
Jordan, and Iraq. New York: Palgrave Macmillan.
Bangura, Y. (2000). ‘Strategic Policy Failure and Governance in Sierra Leone.’ The
Journal of Modern African Studies, 38 (4), pp. 551–577.
———. (2004). ‘The Political and Cultural Dynamics of the Sierra Leone War:
A Critique of Paul Richards.’ In I. Abdullah (ed.), Between Democracy and
Terror: The Sierra Leone Civil War. Dakar: CODESRIA.
Barkawi, T. and Laffey, M. (2006). ‘The Postcolonial Moment in Security
Studies.’ Review of International Studies, 32 (2), pp. 329–352.
Barrows, W. (1976). Grassroots Politics in an African State. New York: Africana
Publishing Co.
Baxter, P. (2014). Bush War Rhodesia, 1966–1980. Solihull, West Midlands:
Helion and Company Limited.
BBC News. (2010). ‘Hull Boss Phil Brown Criticised for World Cup Comments.’
Available: http://news.bbc.co.uk/sport1/hi/football/africa/8450088.stm.
[Accessed 12 August 2014].
Begby, E. and Burgess, P. J. (2009). ‘Human Security and Liberal Peace.’ Public
Reason, 1 (1), pp. 91–104.
Bellamy, A. J. and Williams, P. (2005). ‘Introduction: Thinking Anew About
Peace Operations.’ In A. J. Bellamy and P. Williams (eds.), Peace Operations
and Global Order. London: Routledge.
Belloni, R. (2012). ‘Hybrid Peace Governance: Its Emergence and Significance.’
Global Governance, 18 (1), pp. 21–38.
Bhabha, H. K. (1994). The Location of Culture. London: Routledge.
Bøås, M. (2001). ‘Liberia and Sierra Leone: Dead Ringers? The Logic of
Neopatrimonial Rule.’ Third World Quarterly, 22 (5), pp. 697–723.
———. (2013). ‘Youth Agency in the “Violent Life-Worlds” of Kono District
(Sierra Leone), Voinjama (Liberia) and Northern Mali: “Tactics” and
Imaginaries.’ Conflict, Security & Development, 13 (4), pp. 611–630.
———. (2014). ‘Hunting Ghosts of a Difficult Past: The International Crisis
Group and the Production of “Crisis Knowledge” in the Mano River Basin.’
Third World Quarterly, 35 (4), pp. 652–668.
212 BIBLIOGRAPHY
Boege, V. (2010). ‘How to Maintain Peace and Security in a Post-conflict Hybrid

Political Order – the Case of Bougainville.’ Journal of International
Peacekeeping, 14 (3–4), pp. 330–352.
Boege, V., Brown, A., Clements, K. and Nolan, A. (2008). ‘States Emerging from
Hybrid Political Orders – Pacific Experiences.’ The Australian Centre for Peace
and Conflict Studies (ACPACS): Occasional Papers Series. Available: http://
espace.library.uq.edu.au/eserv/UQ:164904/Occasional_Paper_No_11__
Online_final.pdf. [Accessed 10 June 2010].
———. (2009). ‘Building Peace and Political Community in Hybrid Political
Orders.’ International Peacekeeping, 16 (5), pp. 599–615.
Boersch-Supan, J. (2012). ‘The Generational Contract in Flux: Intergenerational
Tensions in Post-conflict Sierra Leone.’ Journal of Modern African Studies,
50 (1), pp. 25–51.
Bolten, C. (2012). ‘“We have been Sensitised”: Ex-combatants, Marginalization,
and Youth in Postwar Sierra Leone.’ American Anthropologist, 114 (3),
pp. 496–508.
Boone, C. (1994). ‘States and Ruling Classes in Postcolonial Africa: The Enduring
Contradictions of Power.’ In J. S. Migdal, A. Kohl and V. Shue (eds.), State
Power and Social Forces: Domination and Transformation in the Third World.
Cambridge: Cambridge University.
Boutros-Ghali, B. (1992). ‘An Agenda for Peace: Preventive Diplomacy, Peacemaking
and peacekeeping.’ In C. Hill (ed.), (2003). The papers of United Nations Secretary-
General Boutros Boutros-Ghali, p. 1. New Haven: Yale University Press.
———. (1994). ‘An Agenda for Development.’ Available: http://www.un.org/
Docs/SG/agdev.html. [Accessed 12 May 2008].
———. (1995). ‘A Supplement to an Agenda for Peace: Position Paper of the
Secretary- General on the Occasion of the Fiftieth Anniversary of the United
Nations.’ In C. Hill (ed.), (2003). The papers of United Nations Secretary –
General Boutros Boutros-Ghali, p. 2. New Haven: Yale University Press.
Brahimi, L. (2000). Report of the Panel on the United Nations Peace Operations.
UN Doc. A/55/305- S/2000/809, 21 August. Available: http://www.
unrol.org/files/brahimi%20report%20peacekeeping.pdf. [Accessed 15 August
2009].
———. (2007) ‘State Building in Crisis and Post-Conflict Countries.’ 7th Global
Forum on Reinventing Government Building Trust in Government 26–29
June, Vienna, Austria. Available: http://unpan1.un.org/intradoc/groups/
public/documents/un/unpan026896.pdf. [Accessed 21 November 2015].
Bratton, M. and van de Walle, N. (1994). ‘Neopatrimonial Regimes and Political
Transition in Africa.’ World Politics, 46 (4), pp. 453–489.
Brown, M. A. and Nolan, A. (2008). ‘Toward Effective and Legitimate Governance:
States Emerging from Hybrid Political Orders.’ Vanuatu Report, Brisbane:
ACPCS.
BIBLIOGRAPHY 213
Buur, L. and Kyed, H. M. (2006). ‘Contested Sources of Authority: Re-claiming

State Sovereignty by Formalising Traditional Authority in Mozambique.’
Development and Change, 37 (4), pp. 847–869.
Cahill, A. (2008). ‘Power over, Power to, Power with: Shifting Perceptions of
Power for Local Economic Development in the Philippines.’ Asia Pacific View
Point, 49 (3), pp. 294–304.
Call, C. T. (2008a). ‘Knowing Peace When You See It: Setting Standards for
Peacebuilding Success.’ Civil Wars, 10 (2), pp. 173–194.
———. (2008b). ‘Ending Wars, Building States.’ In C. T. Call with V. Wyeth
(eds.), Building States to Build Peace. Boulder: Lynne Rienner Publishers.
Call, C. T. and Cousens, E. M. (2008). ‘Ending Wars and Building Peace:
International Responses to War-Torn Societies.’ International Studies
Perspectives, 9 (1), pp. 1–21.
Campaign for Good Governance, Methodist Church in Sierra Leone and Network
Movement for Justice and Development. (2009). Reform is not Against Tradition:
Making Chieftaincy Relevant in 21st Century Sierra Leone. Freetown: Partners in
Conflict Transformation.
Canovan, M. (1990). ‘On Being Economical with the Truth: Some Liberal
Reflections.’ Political Studies, 38 (1), pp. 5–19.
Cartwright, J. R. (1978). Political Leadership in Sierra Leone. London: Croom
Helm.
Castaneda, C. (2009). ‘How Liberal Peacebuilding Might be Failing Sierra
Leone.’ Review of African Political Economy, 36 (120), pp. 235–251.
Caulker, P. S. (1981). ‘Legitimate Commerce and Statecraft: A Study of the
Hinterland Adjacent to Nineteenth Century Sierra Leone.’ Journal of Black
Studies, 11 (4), pp. 397–419.
Chabal, P. (2014). ‘Foreword.’ In E. Obadare and W. Willems (eds.), Civic Agency in
Africa: Arts of Resistance in the 21st Century. Woodbridge, Suffolk: James Currey.
Chabal, P. and Daloz, J. P. (1999). Africa Works: Disorder as Political
Instrument. Oxford: The International African Institute in association with
James Currey.
Chafer, T. (2013). ‘The UK and France in West Africa: Toward Convergence?’
African Security, 6 (3–4), pp. 234–256.
Chandler, D. (2006a). Empire in Denial: The Politics of Statebuilding. London:
Pluto Press.
———. (ed.). (2006b). Peace Without Politics? Ten Years of State-Building in
Bosnia. Abingdon: Routledge.
Chauveau, J. P. and Richards, P. (2008). ‘West African Insurgences in Agrarian
Perspective: Cote d’Ivoire and Sierra Leone Compared.’ Journal of Agrarian
Change, 8 (4), pp. 515–552.
Chazan, N., et al. (1999). Politics and Society in Contemporary Africa. Boulder:
Lynne Reinner.
214 BIBLIOGRAPHY
Chege, M. (2002). ‘Sierra Leone: The State that Came Back from the Dead.’ The
Washington Quarterly, 25 (3), pp. 147–160.
Chopra, J. (2002). ‘Building State Failure in East Timor.’ Development and
Change, 33 (5), pp. 979–1000.
Christensen, M. M. and Mats, U. (2008). ‘Mercenaries of Democracy: The
“Politricks” of Remobilized Combatants in the 2007 General Elections,
Sierra Leone.’ African Affairs, 107 (429), pp. 515–539.
Chua, A. (2004). World On Fire: How Exporting Free Market Democracy Breeds
Ethnic Hatred and Global Instability. New York: Anchor Books.
Clapham, C. (1998). ‘Discerning the New Africa.’ International Affairs, 74 (2),
pp. 263–269.
———. (2002). ‘The Challenge to the State in a Globalized World.’ Development
and Change, 33 (5), pp. 775–795.
———. (2005). ‘The Evolution of Africa’s International Relations.’ In U. Engel
and G. R. Oslen (eds.), Africa and the North: Between Globalization and
Marginalization. London: Routledge.
Collier, P. (1999). Doing Well Out of War.’ Paper Prepared for Conference on
Economic Agendas in Civil Wars. London: World Bank.
———. (2001). ‘Economic Causes of Civil Conflict and Their Implication for
Policy.’ In C. A. Crocker, F. O. Hampson and P. Aall (eds.), Turbulent Peace:
The Challenges of Managing International Conflict. Washington, DC: United
States Institute of Peace Press.
———. (2007). The Bottom Billion: Why the Poorest Countries are Failing and
What can be Done About It. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Collier, P. and Hoeffler, A. (2004). ‘Greed and Grievance in Civil War.’ Oxford
Economic Papers, 56, pp. 563–595.
Cooper, N. (2007). ‘On the Crisis of the Liberal Peace.’ Conflict, Security and
Development, 7 (4), pp. 605–616.
———. (2008). ‘As Good as It Gets: Securing Diamonds in Sierra Leone.’ In
M. Pugh, N. Cooper and M. Turner (eds.), Whose Peace? Critical Perspectives
on the Political Economy of Peacebuilding. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan.
Cooper, N., Mandy, T. and Pugh, M. (2011). ‘The End of History and the Last
Liberal Peacebuilder: A Reply to Roland Paris.’ Review of International Studies,
37 (4), pp. 995–2007.
Cowan, G. L. (1964). The Dilemmas of African Independence. New York: Walker
and Company.
Cramer, C. (2006). Civil War is Not a Stupid Thing: Accounting for Violence in
Developing Countries. London: Hurst and Company.
Cubitt, C. (2012). Local and Global Dynamics of Peacebuilding: Post-conflict
Reconstruction in Sierra Leone. London: Routledge.
———. (2013). ‘Constructing Civil Society: An Intervention for Building Peace?’
Peacebuilding, 1 (1), pp. 91–108.
BIBLIOGRAPHY 215
Cumming, G. D. (2004). ‘UK African Policy in the Post-Cold War Era: From
Realpolitik to Moralpolitik?’ Commonwealth & Comparative Politics, 42 (1),
pp. 106–128.
Curtis, D. (2012). ‘Introduction: The Contested Politics of Peacebuilding.’ In
D. Curtis and G. A. Dzinesa (eds.), Peacebuilding, Power and Politics in Africa.
Athens: Ohio University Press.
Darby, P. (2009). ‘Rolling Back the Frontiers of Empire: Practising the
Postcolonial.’ International Peacekeeping, 16 (5), pp. 699–716.
Davidson, B. (1992). The Black Man’s Burden: Africa and the Curse of the Nation-
State. Oxford: James Currey.
Davies, V. A. B. (2000). ‘Sierra Leone: Ironic Tragedy.’ Journal of African
Economies, 9 (3), pp. 349–369.
de Certeau, M. (1984). The Practice of Everyday Life. Berkeley: University of
California Press.
Deng, F. M., et al. (1996). Sovereignty as Responsibility: Conflict Management in
Africa. Washington, DC: The Brookings Institute.
DFID. (2008). ‘Evaluation of DFID Country Programmes: Sierra Leone.’
Evaluation Report EV690. Available: http://www.dfid.gov.uk/Documents/
publications1/evaluation/ev690.pdf. [Accessed 20 December 2010].
DFID. (2012). Operational Plan 2011–2015 DFID Sierra Leone, Updated June
2012. London: DFID.
Dickinson, L. (2003). ‘The Promise of Hybrid Courts.’ American Journal of
International Law, 97 (2), pp. 295–310.
Donais, T. (2009). ‘Empowerment or Imposition? Dilemmas of Local Ownership
in Post-Conflict Peacebuilding Process.’ Peace and Change, 34 (1), pp. 3–26.
———. (2012). Peacebuilding and Local Ownership: Post-conflict Consensus-
Building. Oxon: Routledge.
Doyle, M. W. (1983). ‘Kant, Liberal Legacies, and Foreign Affairs, Part 2.’
Philosophy and Public Affairs, 12 (4), pp. 323–353.
———. (1986). ‘Liberalism and World Politics.’ The American Political Science
Review, 80 (4), pp. 1151–1169.
Doyle, M. W. and Sambanis, N. (2000). ‘International Peacebuilding: A Theoretical
and Quantitative Analysis.’ American Political Science Review, 94 (4), pp. 779–801.
Duffield, M. (2001). Global Governance and the New Wars: The Merging of
Development and Security. London: Zed Books.
———. (2007a). ‘Development, Territories and People: Consolidating the
External Sovereign Frontier.’ Alternatives, 32 (2), pp. 225–246.
———. (2007b). Development, Security and Unending War. Cambridge: Polity
Press.
———. (2010). ‘Risk Management and the Fortified Aid Compound: Everyday
Life in Post – Interventionary Society.’ Journal of Intervention and
Statebuilding, 4 (4), pp. 453–474.
216 BIBLIOGRAPHY
Durham, D. (2007). ‘Empowering Youth: Making Youth Citizens in Botswana.’

In J. Cole and D. Durham (eds.), Generations and Globalisation: Youth, Age
and Family in the New World Economy. Bloomington: Indiana University Press.
Dussel, E. (1995). The Invention of the Americas. New York: Continuum
Publishing.
Dworkin, R. (2002). Sovereign Virtue: The Theory and Practice of Equality.
Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Englebert, P. (2000). State Legitimacy and Development in Africa. Boulder:
Lynne Reinner.
Englebert, P. and Tull, D. M. (2008). ‘Post-conflict Reconstruction in Africa:
Flawed Ideas about Failed States.’ International Security, 32 (4), pp. 106–139.
Ero, C. (2009). ‘UN Peacekeeping in West Africa: Liberia, Sierra Leone and
Cote d’Ivoire.’ In A. Adebajo (ed.), From Global Apartheid to Global Village:
Africa and the United Nations. Scottsville: University of Kwazulu-Natal
Press.
Escobar, A. (1995). ‘Imagining a Post-Development Era.’ In J. Crush (ed.), Power
of Development. London and New York: Routledge.
———. (2004). ‘Beyond the Third World: Imperial Globality, Global Coloniality
and Anti-Globalisation Social Movements.’ Third World Quarterly, 25 (1),
pp. 207–230.
Esteva, G. (1992). ‘Development.’ In Sachs (ed.), The Development Dictionary:
A Guide to Knowledge and Power. London: Zed Books.
European Union Commission. (2013). ‘European Commission Makes First
Payment of €90 Million Under State-Building Contract With Mali.’ Press
Release, Brussels, 25 May. Available: http://europa.eu/rapid/press-release_
IP-13-599_en.htm. [Accessed 09 July 2015].
———. (2015). ‘Commission Decision of 25.2.2015 on the Individual Measure
in Favour of Liberia to be Financed from the European Development Fund
Bridging Facility.’ Available: https://ec.europa.eu/europeaid/sites/devco/
files/liberia-decision-measure-2014_en.pdf. [Accessed 10 September 2015].
Evans-Pritchard, E. E. (1969). The Nuer: A Description of the Modes of Livelihood
and Political Institutions. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Faber, M. and Green, R. H. (1985). ‘Sub-Saharan Africa’s Economic Malaise:
Some Questions and Answers.’ In T. Rose (ed.), Crisis and Recovery in Sub-
Saharan Africa. Paris: The Organization for Economic Co-operation and
Development.
Fambul Tok. (2015). ‘About Us.’ Available: www.fambultok.org. [Accessed 4
November 2014].
Fanon, F. (1967). The Wretched of the Earth. Harmondsworth: Penguin.
Fanthorpe, R. (1998). ‘Locating the Politics of a Sierra Leonean Chiefdom.’
Africa: Journal of the International African Institute, 68 (4), pp. 558–584.
BIBLIOGRAPHY 217
———. (2001). ‘Neither Citizen Nor Subject? “Lumpen” Agency and the Legacy
of Native Administration in Sierra Leone.’ African Affairs, 100 (400),
pp. 363–383.
———. (2005). ‘On the Limits of Liberal Peace: Chiefs and Democratic
Decentralization in Post-war Sierra Leone.’ African Affairs, 105 (418), pp. 27–49.
———. (2007). ‘Sierra Leone: The Influence of Secret Society with Special
Reference to Female Genital Mutilation.’ Writenet Report, Commissioned by
United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees, Status Determination and
Protection Information Section (DIPS). Available: http://www.unhcr.org/
refworld/pdfid/46cee3152.pdf. [Accessed 1 October 2010].
Fieldhouse, D. K. (1981). Colonialism 1870–1945: An Introduction. London:
Weidenfeld and Nicolson.
Finnstrom, S. and Atkinson, R. R. (2008). ‘Building Sustainable Peace in Northern
Uganda.’ Horn of Africa Bulletin, 20 (4), pp. 1–3. Available: http://www.life-
peace.org/sajt/filer/pdf/Horn_of_Africa_Bulletin/HoA0408.pdf. [Accessed 20
October 2010].
Fortes, M. and Evans-Pritchard, E. E. (eds.). (1940). African Political Systems.
London: Oxford University Press.
Foucault, M. (1980). Power-Knowledge: Selected Interviews and Other Writings,
1972–1977. Brighton: Harvester Press.
Franks, J. and Richmond, O. P. (2008). ‘Co-opting Liberal Peace-building Untying
the Gordian Knot in Kosovo.’ Cooperation and Conflict, 43 (1), pp. 81–103.
Frello, B. (2007). ‘Essentialism, Hybridism and Cultural Critique.’ Available:
http://www.uel.ac.uk/ccsr/documents/FrelloEssentialism.pdf. [Accessed 10
January 2010].
Friedman, R., Oskanian, K. and Pardo, R. P. (2013). ‘Introduction.’ In R. Friedman,
K. Oskanian and R. P. Pardo (eds.), After Liberalism? The Future of Liberalism in
International Relations. Basingstoke: Palgrave.
Fukuyama, F. (1989). ‘The End of History?’The National Interest, 16, pp. 3–18.
———. (1992). The End of History and the Last Man. London: Penguin Books.
———. (2004). State Building: Governance and World Order in the Twenty-First
Century. London: Profile Books.
Fulton, R. M. (1972). ‘The Political Structures and Functions of Poro in Kpelle
Society.’ American Anthropologist, 74 (5), pp. 1218–1233.
Fyle, C. M. (1999). Introduction to the History of African Civilization: Precolonial
Africa. Lanham, MD: University Press of America.
G7+. (2011). ‘A New Deal for Engagement in Fragile States.’ 30th November,
Busan, South Korea. Available: http://www.g7plus.org/en/our-work/new-
deal-implementation. [Accessed 01 February 2012].
Gallagher, J. (2009). ‘Healing the Scar? Idealizing Britain in Africa, 1997–2007.’
African Affairs, 108 (432), pp. 1–17.
218 BIBLIOGRAPHY
Galtung, J. (1969). ‘Violence, Peace and Peace Research.’ Journal of Peace

Research, 6 (3), pp. 167–191.
———. (1985). ‘Twenty-Five Years of Peace Research: Ten Challenges and some
Responses.’ Journal of Peace Research, 22 (2), pp. 141–158.
Gberie, L. (2005). A Dirty War in West Africa: The RUF and the Destruction of
Sierra Leone. London: Hurst and Company.
GOAL. (2015). ‘DFID Ebola Emergency Response Funds Application
Guidelines’, Revised 12th January 2015. Available: https://www.goalglobal.
org/images/DFID_Ebola_Emergency_Response_Fund_Phase_II_
Application_Guidelines_-.pdf. [Accessed 21 February 2015].
Goetze, C. and Guzina, D. (2008). ‘Peacebuilding, Statebuilding, Nationbuilding –
Turtles All the Way Down?’ Civil Wars, 10 (4), pp. 319–347.
Gonzalez de Allen, G. J. (2006). ‘Enrique Dussel and Manuel Zapata Olivella: An
Exploration of De-colonial, Diasporic, and Trans-modern Selves and the
Politics of Recognition.’ World and Knowledge Otherwise, 1 (3), pp. 1–12.
Government of Sierra Leone (GoSL). (1956). Sierra Leone Report of
Commission of Inquiry into Disturbances in the Provinces (November, 1955
to March, 1956). London: The Crown Agents for Overseas Governments
and Administrations.
———. (1965). Public Order Act, 1965. Available: http://www.sierra-leone.
org/Laws/1965-46s.pdf. [Accessed 21 December 2010].
———. (1991). The Constitution of Sierra Leone. Available: http://www.sierra-
leone.org/Laws/constitution1991.pdf. [Accessed 21 December 2010].
———. (2002). The National Security and Central Intelligence Act. Available: http://
www.sierra-leone.org/Laws/2002-10.pdf. [Accessed 21 December 2010].
———. (2003). Sierra Leone National Youth Policy. Available: http://www.state
house-sl.org/policies/youth.html. [Accessed 16 August 2013].
———. (2004a). The Investment Promotion Act. Available: http://www.sierra-
leone.org/Laws/2004-10p.pdf. [Accessed 2 May 2011].
———. (2004b). The Local Government Act. Available: http://www.sierra-leone.
org/Laws/2004-1p.pdf. [Accessed 20 December 2010].
———. (2006). ‘Progress Report on the Implementation of the Programme of
Action for the Least Developed Countries for the Decade 2001–2010.’
Available: http://www.un.org/special-rep/ohrlls/ldc/MTR/Sierra%
20Leone.pdf. [Accessed 2 May 2011].
———. (2007a). The General Law (Business Start-Up) (Amendment) Act. Available:
http://www.sierra-leone.org/Laws/2007-16p.pdf. [Accessed 2 May 2011].
———. (2007b). The Domestic Violence Act. Available: http://www.sierra-leone.
org/Laws/2007-20p.pdf [Accessed 23 December 2010].
———. (2007c). The Devolution of Estates Act. Available: http://www.sierra-
leone.org/Laws/2007-21p.pdf. [Accessed 23 December 2010].
BIBLIOGRAPHY 219
———. (2007d). The Child Rights Act. Available: http://www.sierra-leone.org/

Laws/2007-7p.pdf. [Accessed 23 December 2010].
———. (2008). An Agenda for Change: Second Poverty Reduction Strategy Paper
(PRSP II). Available: http://unipsil.unmissions.org/portals/unipsil/media/
publications/agenda_for_change.pdf. [Accessed 25 January 2011].
———. (2009a). The Mines and Minerals Act, 2009. Available: http://www.
sierra-leone.org/Laws/2009-12.pdf. [Accessed 5 May 2011]
———. (2009b). The Registration of Customary Marriage and Divorce Act.
Available: http://www.sierra-leone.org/Laws/2009-01.pdf. [Accessed 23
December 2009].
———. (2010). Millennium Development Goals Progress Report 2010. Available:
http://www.sl.undp.org/1_doc/SL_MDG_Rpt10.pdf. [Accessed 20 April
2011].
———. (2013). The Agenda for Prosperity: The Road to Middle Income Status,
2013–2018. Available: http://www.undp.org/content/dam/sierraleone/
docs/projectdocuments/povreduction/undp_sle_The%20Agenda%20for%
20Prosperity%20.pdf. [Accessed 15 January 2016].
Government of Somalia. (1960). The Constitution of the Somali Republic.
Available: http://www.ilo.org/dyn/travail/docs/2176/Constitution1960.
pdf. [Accessed 16 August 2015].
Graef, J. (2015). Practising Post-Liberal Peacebuilding: Legal Empowerment and
Emergent Hybridity in Liberia. Basingstoke: Palgrave.
Graybill, L. S. (2010). ‘Traditional Practices and Reconciliation in Sierra Leone:
The Effectiveness of Fambul Tok.’Conflict Trends, 3, pp. 41–47.
Gregor, T. (1996). ‘Introduction.’ In T. Gregor (ed.), A Natural History of Peace.
Nashville: VanDerbilt University Press.
Griffiths, I. L. (1995). The African Inheritance. London: Routledge.
Gyekye, K. (1997). Tradition and Modernity: Philosophical Reflections on the
African Experience. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Hanlon, J. (2005). ‘Is the International Community Helping to Recreate the
Preconditions for War in Sierra Leone?’ The Round Table, 94 (381), pp. 459–472.
Hayward, F. M. (1984). ‘Political Leadership, Power, and the State: Generalizations
from the Case of Sierra Leone.’ African Studies Review, 27 (3), pp. 19–39.
Heathershaw, J. and Lambach, D. (2008). ‘Introduction: Post-conflict Spaces and
Approaches to Statebuilding.’ Journal of Intervention and Statebuilding, 2 (3),
pp. 269–289.
Hegel, G. W. F. (1975). Lectures of the Philosophy of World History.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press (Translated from the German edi-
tion of J. Hoffmeister by H. B. Nisbert).
Henderson, M. (2009). No Enemy to Conquer: Forgiveness in an Unforgiving
World. Waco, Texas: Baylor University Press.
220 BIBLIOGRAPHY
Herbst, J. (1990). ‘War and the State in Africa.’ International Security, 14 (4),
pp. 117–139.
———. (2000). States and power in Africa: Comparative Lessons in Authority and
Control. Princeton: Princeton University Press.
Hirsch, J. L. (2001). ‘Civil War in Sierra Leone.’ Survival, 43 (3), pp. 145–162.
Hochschild, A. (1998). King Leopold’s Ghost. Boston: Houghton Mifflin
Company.
Hoffman, D. (2007). ‘The Meaning of a Militia: Understanding the Civil Defence
Forces in Sierra Leone.’ African Affairs, 106 (425), pp. 639–662.
Hoffman, E. (2008). ‘Reconciliation in Sierra Leone: Local Processes Yield Global
Lessons.’ The Fletcher Forum of World Affairs, 32 (2), pp. 129–141.
Horton, R. (1971). ‘Stateless Societies in the History of West Africa, Volume
One.’ In J. F. Ade Ajayi and M. Crowder (eds.), History of West Africa.
London: Longman.
Humphreys, M. and Weinstein, M. J. (2004). What the Fighters Say: A Survey of Ex-
combatants in Sierra Leone June–August 2003. Interim Report. Available:
http://www.columbia.edu/~mh2245/SL.htm. [Accessed 8 September 2013].
Huntington, S. P. (1968). Political Order in Changing Societies. New Haven: Yale
University Press.
ICG. (2001a). ‘Sierra Leone: Time for a New Military and Political Strategy.’
Available: http://www.crisisgroup.org/en/regions/africa/west-africa/sierra-
leone/028-sierra-leone-time-for-a-new-military-and-political-strategy.aspx.
[Accessed 15 December 2010].
ICG. (2001b). ‘Sierra Leone: Managing Uncertainty.’ Available: http://www.
crisisgroup.org/~/media/Files/africa/west-africa/sierra-leone/Sierra%
20Leone%20Managing%20Uncertainty.ashx. [Accessed 15 December 2010].
ICG. (2008). ‘Sierra Leone: A New Era of Reform?’ Available: http://www.
crisisgroup.org/~/media/Files/africa/west-africa/sierra-leone/Sierra%
20Leone%20A%20New%20Era%20of%20Reform.ashx. [Accessed 10 January
2011].
International Commission on Intervention and State Sovereignty. (2001). The
Responsibility to Protect. Ottawa: International Development Research
Centre.
International Food Policy Research Institute. (2010). 2010 Global Hunger Index:
The Challenge of Hunger: Focus on the Crisis of Child Undernutrition. Available:
http://www.ifpri.org/sites/default/files/publications/ghi10.pdf. [Accessed
3 February 2011].
———. (2015). 2015 Global Hunger Index: Armed Conflict and the Challenge of
Hunger. Available: http://ebrary.ifpri.org/utils/getfile/collection/
p15738coll2/id/129681/filename/129892.pdf. [Accessed 11 April 2016].
IMF. (2002). ‘IMF and World Bank Support US$950 Million in Debt Service
Relief for Sierra Leone under Enhanced HIPC Initiative.’ Press Release
BIBLIOGRAPHY 221
No. 02/13, March. Available: https://www.imf.org/external/np/sec/pr/

2002/pr0213.htm. [Accessed 4 August 2013].
Jackson, P. (2005). ‘Chiefs, Money and Politicians: Rebuilding Local Government in
Post-war Sierra Leone.’ Public Administration and Development, 25 (1), pp. 49–58.
———. (2006). ‘Reshuffling an Old Deck of Cards? The Politics of Local
Government Reform in Sierra Leone.’ African Affairs, 106 (422), pp. 95–111.
———. (2011). ‘Security Sector Reform and Statebuilding.’ Third World
Quarterly, 32 (10), pp. 1803–1822.
Jackson, R. H. (1990). Quasi-states: Sovereignty, International Relations and the
Third World. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Jackson, R. H. and Rosberg, C. G. (1982). ‘Why Africa’s Weak States Persist: The
Empirical and the Juridical in Statehood.’ World Politics, 35 (1), pp. 1–24.
———. (1984). ‘Personal Rule: Theory and Practice in Africa.’ Comparative
Politics, 16 (4), pp. 421–442.
Jackson, R. H. and Sorensen, G. (1999). Introduction to International Relations:
Theories and Approaches (2nd ed.). Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Jarstad, A. K. and Olsson, L. (2012). ‘Hybrid Peace Ownership in Afghanistan:
International Perspectives of Who Owns What and When.’ Global Governance,
18 (1), pp. 105–119.
Jennings, J. M. (2014). ‘Service, Sex and Security: Gendered Peacekeeping
Economies in Liberia and the Democratic Republic of the Congo.’ Security
Dialogue, 45 (4), pp. 313–330.
Joshi, M., Lee, S. and Mac Ginty, R. (2014). ‘Just How Liberal is the Liberal
Peace?’ International Peacekeeping, Epub ahead of print 2 July. DOI:
10.1080/13533312.2014.932065.
Junne, G. and Verkoren, W. (2005). ‘The Challenges of Postconflict
Development.’ In G. Junne and W. Verkoren (eds.), Postconflict Development:
Meeting New Challenges. Boulder, CO: Lynne Rienner.
Kailahun District Council. (2009). Development Plan 2009–2011. Kailahun:
Kailahun District Council.
Kaldor, M. (1999). New Wars and Old Wars: Organized Violence in a Global Era.
Cambridge: Polity Press.
Kandeh, J. D. (1992). ‘Politicization of Ethnic Identities in Sierra Leone.’ African
Studies, 35 (1), pp. 81–99.
———. (1999). ‘Ransoming the State: Elite Origins of Subaltern Terror in Sierra
Leone.’ Review of African Political Economy, 26 (81), pp. 349–366.
Kant, I. (1903). Perpetual Peace: A Philosophical Essay. Translated with
Introduction and Notes by M. Campbell Smith. London: Allen and Unwin
(Original Work Published 1795).
Kaplan, R. D. (1994). ‘The Coming Anarchy.’ The Atlantic Monthly, February.
Available: http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/1994/02/the-
coming-anarchy/4670/. [Accessed 25 January 2010].
222 BIBLIOGRAPHY
Keen, D. (2000). ‘Incentives and Disincentives for Violence.’ In M. Berdal and

D. M. Malone, (eds.), Greed and Grievance: Economic Agendas in Civil Wars.
Boulder: Lynne Reinner.
———. (2005). Conflict & Collusion in Sierra Leone. Oxford: James Currey.
Kilson, M. (1966). Political Change in a West African State: A Study of the
Modernization Process in Sierra Leone. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University
Press.
King, S. J. (2003). Liberalization Against Democracy: The Local Politics of
Economic Reform in Tunisia. Bloomington: Indiana University Press.
Kleist, N. (2011). ‘Modern Chiefs: Tradition, Development and Return Among
Traditional Authorities in Ghana.’ African Affairs, 110 (441), pp. 629–647.
Kopytoff, I. (1971). ‘Ancestors as Elders in Africa.’ Journal of the African
Institute, 41 (2), pp. 129–142.
Kostic, R. (2008). ‘Nationbuilding as an Instrument of Peace? Exploring Local
Attitudes Toward International Nationbuilding and Reconciliation in Bosnia
and Herzegovina.’ Civil Wars, 10 (4), pp. 384–412.
Kraidy, M. M. (2002). ‘Hybridity in Cultural Globalization.’ Communication
Theory, 12 (3), pp. 316–339.
Kroc Institute. (no date). Peace Accords Matrix. Available: https://peaceaccords.nd.
edu/. [Accessed 2 December 2015].
Kurz, C. P. (2010). ‘What You See is What You Get: Analytical Lenses and the
Limitations of Post-conflict Statebuilding in Sierra Leone.’ Journal of
Intervention and Statebuilding, 4 (2), pp. 205–236.
Kyed, H. M. (2007). ‘State Recognition of Traditional Authority: Authority,
Citizenship and State Formation in Rural Post-War Mozambique.’
Unpublished PhD Thesis, Roskiled University.
Kyed, H. M. and Buur, L. (2006). ‘New Sites of Citizenship: Recognition of
Traditional Authority and Group-based Citizenship in Mozambique.’ Journal
of Southern African Studies, 32 (3), pp. 563–581.
Labonte, M. T. (2011). ‘From Patronage and Peacebuilding: Elite Capture and
Governance from Below in Sierra Leone.’ African Affairs, 111 (442), pp. 90–
115.
Lambach, D. (2007). ‘Oligopolies of Violence in Post-conflict Societies.’ GIGA
Working Paper No. 62. Available: http://www.gigahamburg.de/dl/down
load.php?d=/content/publikationen/pdf/wp62_lambach.pdf. [Accessed 16
October 2010].
Lavali, A. (2005). ‘The Reliable Route to Poverty Reduction in Sierra Leone:
NGOs or Secret Societies?’ Concord Times, 31 October. Available: http://
www.sierraconnection.com/blog/?postid=14. [Accessed 4 May 2010].
Lawrence, P. (1986). ‘Introduction: World Recession and the Food Crisis in
Africa.’ In P. Lawrence (ed.), World Recession and the Food Crisis in Africa.
London: James Currey.
BIBLIOGRAPHY 223
Lederach, J. P. (1997). Building Peace: Sustainable Reconciliation in Divided

Societies. Washington, DC: United States Institute of Peace Press.
———. (2005). The Moral Imagination: The Art and Soul of Building Peace. New
York: Oxford University Press.
Lederach, J. P. and Lederach, A. J. (2011). When Blood and Bones Cry Out:
Journeys Through the Landscape of Healing and Reconciliation. Oxford:
Oxford University Press.
Lee, S. (2015). ‘Motivations for Local Resistance in International Peacebuilding.’
Lemay-Hebert, N. (2009). ‘Statebuilding Without Nation-Building? Legitimacy,
State Failure and the Limits of the Institutionalist Approach.’ Journal of
Intervention and Statebuilding, 3 (1), pp. 21–45.
Levitt, J. I. (2012). Illegal Peace in Africa: An Inquiry into the Legality of Power
Sharing with Warlords, Rebels, and Junta. Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press.
Little, A. (2010). ‘Can Britain Lift Sierra Leone Out of Poverty.’ BBC News,
23 June. Available: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/programmes/newsnight/
8754659.stm. [Accessed 15 January 2011].
Little, K. (1965). ‘The Political Function of the Poro, Part I.’ Africa, 35 (4),
pp. 349–365.
Low, M. (2005). ‘“Power” and Politics in Human Geography.’ Geografiska
Annaler. Series B, 87 (1), pp. 81–88.
Lund, C. (2006). ‘Twilight Institutions: Public Authority and Local Politics in
Africa.’ Development and Change, 37 (4), pp. 685–705.
Mac Ginty, R. (2006). No War, No Peace: The Rejuvenation of Stalled Peace
Processes and Peace Accords. New York: Palgrave Macmillan.
———. (2008). ‘Indigenous Peace-making Versus the Liberal Peace.’ Cooperation
and Conflict, 43 (2), pp. 139–163.
———. (2010a). ‘Hybrid Peace: The Interaction Between Top-Down and
Bottom-Up Peace.’ Security Dialogue, 41 (4), pp. 391–412.
———. (2010b). ‘Gilding the Lily? International Support for Indigenous and
Traditional Peacebuilding.’ In O. P. Richmond (ed.), Palgrave Advances in
Peacebuilding. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan.
———. (2011). International Peacebuilding and Local Resistance: Hybrid Forms
of Peace. Basingstoke: Palgrave.
———. (2012). ‘Between Resistance and Compliance: Non-participation and the
Liberal Peace.’ Journal of Intervention and Statebuilding, 6 (2), pp. 167–187.
———. (2015). ‘Where is the Local? Critical Localism and Peacebuilding.’ Third
World Quarterly, 36 (5), pp. 840–856.
Mac Ginty, R. and Richmond, O. P. (2007). ‘Myth or Reality: Opposing Views on
the Liberal Peace and Post-War Reconstruction.’ Global Society, 21 (4),
pp. 491–497.
224 BIBLIOGRAPHY
———. (2013). ‘The Local Turn in Peace Building: Critical Agenda for Peace.’
Mac Ginty, R. and Sanghera, G. (2012). ‘Hybridity in Peacebuilding and
Development: An Introduction.’ Journal of Peacebuilding and Development,
7 (2), pp. 3–8.
Mamdani, M. (1996). Citizen and Subject: Contemporary Africa and the Legacy of
Late Colonialism. Kampala: Fountain Publishers.
Manifesto 99. (2002). Traditional Methods of Conflict Management/Resolution of
Possible Complementary Value to the Proposed Sierra Leone Truth and
Reconciliation Commission. Study Report Submitted to the Office of the
United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights in Support of the
Preparatory Phase of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, Sierra
Leone, Freetown.
Manning, R. E. (2009). ‘The Landscape of Local Authority in Sierra Leone: How
“Traditional” and “Modern” Justice Systems Interact.’ Justice and Development
Working Paper Series, 1(1), Washington, DC: World Bank. Available: http://
documents.worldbank.org/curated/en/2009/01/10744323/landscape-
local-authority-sierra-leone-traditional-modern-justice-governance-systems-
interact. [Accessed 18 December 2010].
Mathews, S. (2004). ‘Post-development Theory and the Question of Alternatives:
A View from Africa.’ Third World Quarterly, 25 (2), pp. 373–384.
Mazotti, J. A. (2008). ‘Creole Agencies and the (Post)Colonial Debate in Spanish
America.’ In M. Morana, E. D. Dussel and C. A. Jauregui (eds.), Coloniality at
Large: Latin America and the Postcolonial Debate. Durham: Duke University
Press.
McEvoy-Levy, S. (2013). ‘Youth.’ In R. Mac Ginty (ed.), Routledge Handbook of
Peacebuilding. London: Routledge.
Meyer, J. (2008). ‘The Concealed Violence of Modern Peace.’ Millennium –
Journal of International Studies, 36 (3), pp. 555–574.
Middleton, J. and Tait, D. (eds.). (1958). Tribes Without Rulers: Studies in
African Segmentary Systems. London: Routledge.
Milne, J. V. (2010). ‘Method: Theory and ethnography in Peace and
Conflict Studies.’ In O. P. Richmond (ed.), Palgrave Advances in
Peacebuilding: Critical Developments and Approaches. Basingstoke: Palgrave
MacMillan.
Moran, M. H. (2006). Liberia: The violence of Democracy. Philadelphia: University
of Pennsylvania Press.
Murithi, T. (2008). ‘African Indigenous and Endogenous Approaches to Peace
and Conflict Resolution.’ In J. F. David (ed.), Peace and Conflict in Africa.
London: ZED Books.
———. (2009). The Ethics of Peacebuilding. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University
Press.
BIBLIOGRAPHY 225
Murphy, W. P. (1980). ‘Secret Knowledge as Property and Power in Kpelle

Society: Elders versus Youth.’ Africa: Journal of the International African
Institute, 50 (2), pp. 193–207.
Newman, E. (2009a). ‘“Liberal” Peacebuilding Debates.’ In E. Newman, R. Paris
and O. P. Richmond (eds.), New Perspectives on Liberal Peacebuilding. Tokyo:
United Nations University Press.
———. (2009b). ‘Failed States and International Order: Constructing a Post-
Westphalian World.’ Contemporary Security Policy, 30 (3), pp. 421–443.
Newman, E., Paris, R. and Richmond, O. P. (eds.) (2009). ‘Introduction.’ In New
Perspectives on Liberal Peacebuilding. Tokyo: United Nations University Press.
Nhema, A. and Zeleza, P. T. (eds.). (2008). The Resolution of African Conflicts:
The Management of Conflict Resolution and Post-conflict Reconstruction.
Oxford: James Currey.
Nkrumah, K. (1965). Neo-colonialism: The Last Stage of Imperialism. London:
Nelson.
Nzongola-Ntalaja, G. (2002). The Congo from Leopold to Kabila: A People’s
History. London: Zed Books.
OAU. (1963). Charter of the Organisation of African Unity. Addis Ababa: OAU.
———. (1971). ‘O.A.U Resolution on Border Disputes, 1964.’ In I. Brownlie
(ed.), Basic Documents on African Affairs. Oxford: Clarendon Press.
Obarrio, J. M. (2010). ‘Remains: To Be Seen. Third Encounter between State and
“Customary” in Northern Mozambique.’ Cultural Anthropology, 25 (2),
pp. 263–300.
OCHA. (2016). ‘2016 South Sudan Humanitarian Needs Overview.’ 5 January,
Geneva. Available: http://reliefweb.int/report/south-sudan/2016-south-
sudan-humanitarian-needs-overview. [Accessed 9 May 2016].
OECD. (2007). ‘Principles for Good International Engagement in Fragile States
and Situations.’ Available: http://www.oecd.org/dataoecd/61/45/
38368714.pdf. [Accessed 20 December 2010].
———. (2011). Supporting Statebuilding in Situations of Conflict and Fragility:
Policy Guidance. DAC Guidelines and References Series. Paris: OECD
Publishing. Available: http://dx.doi.org/10.1787/9789264074989-en.
[Accessed 9 November 2015].
Olonisakin, F. (2008). Peacekeeping in Sierra Leone: The Story of UNAMSIL.
Boulder: Lynne Reinner.
Oneal, J. R., et al. (1996). ‘The Liberal Peace: Interdependence, Democracy, and
International Conflict, 1950–85.’ Journal of Peace Research, 33 (1), pp. 11–28.
Ortner, S. B. (1995). ‘Resistance and the Problem of Ethnographic Refusal.’
Comparative Studies in Society and History, 37 (1), pp. 173–193.
Ottaway, M. (1995). ‘Democratization in Collapsed States.’ In W. I. Zartman
(ed.), Collapsed States: The Disintegration and Restoration of Legitimate
Authority. Boulder: Lynne Rienner Publishers
226 BIBLIOGRAPHY
———. (1997). ‘From political Opening to Democratization.’ In M. Ottaway

(ed.), Democracy in Africa: The Hard Road Ahead. Boulder: Lynne Reinner
Publishers.
Paris, R. (1997). ‘Peacebuilding and the Limits of Liberal Internationalism.’
International Security, 22 (2), pp. 54–89.
———. (2001). ‘Wilson’s Ghost: The Faulty Assumptions of Postconflict
Peacebuilding.’ In C. A. Crocker et al. (eds.), Turbulent Peace: The
Challenges of Managing International Conflict. Washington, DC: United
States Institute of Peace Press.
———. (2002). ‘International Peacebuilding and the “Mission Civilisatrice”.’
Review of International Studies, 28 (4), pp. 637–656.
———. (2004). At War’s End: Building Peace After Civil Conflict. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press.
———. (2006). ‘Bringing the Leviathan Back In: Classical Versus Contemporary
Studies of the Liberal Peace.’ International Studies Review, 8 (3), pp. 425–440.
———. (2009). ‘Does Liberal Peacebuilding Have a Future?’ In E. Newman, R. Paris
and O. P. Richmond, (eds.), New Perspectives on Liberal Peacebuilding. Tokyo:
United Nations University Press.
———. (2010). ‘Saving Liberal Peacebuilding.’ Review of International Studies,
36 (2), pp. 337–365.
Paris, R. and Sisk, T. D. (eds.). (2009). ‘Introduction: Understanding the
Contradictions of Postwar Statebuilding.’ In The Dilemmas of Statebuilding:
Confronting the Contradictions of Postwar Peace Operations. London: Routledge.
Peters, K. (2011a). War and the Crisis of Youth in Sierra Leone. New York:
———. (2011b). ‘The Crisis of Youth in Post-War Sierra Leone: Problem Solved?’
Africa Today, 58 (2), pp. 128–153.
Peters, K. and Richards, P. (2011). ‘Rebellion and Agrarian Tensions in Sierra
Leone.’ Journal of Agrarian Change, 11 (3), pp. 377–395.
Pettit, J. (2010). ‘Multiple Faces of Power and Learning.’ IDS Bulletin, 41 (3),
pp. 25–35.
Pham, P. J. (2006). ‘Liberia and Sierra Leone: A Study of Comparative Human
Rights Approaches by Civil Society Actors.’ Interdisciplinary Journal of
Human Rights Law, 1 (1), pp. 69–105.
Pieterse, J. N. (1993). ‘Globalization as Hybridisation.’ Working Paper Series
No. 152. The Hague: Institute of Social Studies.
Piot, C. D. (1993). ‘Secrecy, Ambiguity, and the Everyday in Kabre Culture.’
American Anthropologist, 95 (2), pp. 353–370.
Pouligny, B. (2005). ‘Civil Society and Post-Conflict Peacebuilding: Ambiguities
of International Programmes Aimed at Building “New” Societies.’ Security
Dialogue, 36 (4), pp. 495–510.
BIBLIOGRAPHY 227
———. (2006). Peace Operations Seen from Below: UN Missions and Local People.
Bloomfield, CT: Kumarian Press.
Pratt, M. L. (1992). Imperial Eyes: Travel Writing and Transculturation.
Routledge: London.
Pugh, M. (2009). ‘Toward Life Welfare.’ In E. Newman, R. Paris and O. P. Richmond
(eds.), New Perspectives on Liberal Peacebuilding. Tokyo: United Nations
University Press.
Ranger, T. (1983). ‘The Invention of Tradition in Colonial Africa.’ In
E. Hobsbawm and T. Ranger (eds.), The Invention of Tradition. Cambridge:
Rashid, I. (2004). ‘Student Radicals, Lumpen Youth, and the Origins of
Revolutionary Groups in Sierra Leone, 1977–1996.’ In I. Abdullah (ed.),
Between Democracy and Terror: The Sierra Leone Civil War. Dakar: CODESRIA.
———. 2006. ‘Silent Guns and Talking Drums: War, Radio, and Youth Social
Healing in Sierra Leone.’ In A. A. Sikainga and A. Ousseina (eds.), Postconflict
Reconstruction in Africa. Trenton NJ: Africa World Press.
Renders, M. and Terlinden, U. (2010). ‘Negotiating Statehood in a Hybrid
Political Order: The Case of Somaliland.’ Development and Change, 41 (4),
pp. 723–746.
Reno, W. (1998). Warlord Politics and African States. Boulder: Lynne Reinner.
Richards, P. (1996). Fighting for the Rain Forest War Youth and Resources in Sierra
Leone. London: Heinemann.
———. (2002). ‘Militia Conscription in Sierra Leone: Recruitment of Young
Fighters in an African War.’ In L. Mjøset and S. van Holde (eds.), The
Comparative Study of Conscription in the Armed Forces. Comparative Social
Research Volume 20. Bingley: Emerald Group Publishing Limited.
———. (ed.). (2005a). No Peace No War: An Anthology of Contemporary Armed
Conflicts. Athens: Ohio University Press.
———. (2005b). ‘To Fight or to Farm? Agrarian Dimensions of the Mano
River Conflicts (Liberia and Sierra Leone).’ African Affairs, 104 (417),
pp. 571–590.
Richmond, O. P. (2004). ‘UN Peace Operations and the Dilemmas of the
Peacebuilding Consensus.’ International Peacekeeping, 11 (1), pp. 83–101.
———. (2005). The Transformation of Peace. New York: Palgrave Macmillan.
———. (2006). ‘The Problem of Peace: Understanding the “Liberal Peace”.’
Conflict, Security and Development, 6 (3), pp. 291–314.
———. (2008a). Peace in International Relations. London: Routledge.
———. (2009a). ‘Becoming Liberal, Unbecoming Liberalism: Liberal-Local
Hybridity via the Everyday as a Response to the Paradoxes of Liberal
Peacebuilding.’ Journal of Intervention and Statebuilding, 3 (3), pp. 324–
344.
228 BIBLIOGRAPHY
———. (2009b). ‘A Post-Liberal Peace: Eirenism and the Everyday.’ Review of

International Studies, 35 (3), pp. 557–580.
———. (2010a). ‘Foucault and the Paradox of Peace-as-Governance Versus
Everyday Agency.’ International Political Sociology, 4 (2), pp. 199–202.
———. (2010b). ‘Resistance and the Post-liberal Peace.’ Millennium – Journal of
International Studies, 38 (3), pp. 665–692.
———. (2010c). ‘Post-colonial Hybridity and the Return of Human Security.’
In D. Chandler and N. Hynek (eds.), Critical Perspectives on Human
Security: Rethinking Emancipation and Power in International Relations.
Oxon: Routledge.
———. (2011a). ‘De-romanticising the Local, De-mystifying the International:
Hybridity in Timor Leste and the Solomon Islands.’ The Pacific Review, 24 (1),
pp. 115–136.
———. (2011b). A Post-Liberal Peace. London: Routledge.
———. (2014). Failed Statebuilding: Intervention and the Dynamics of Peace
Formation. New Haven: Yale University Press.
Richmond, O. P. and Franks. (2008). ‘Liberal Peace in Timor Leste: The
Emperor’s New Clothes.’ International Peacekeeping, 15 (2), pp. 185–200
———. (2009). Liberal Peace Transitions: Between Statebuilding and
Peacebuilding. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press.
Richmond, O. P. and Mitchell, A. (2011). Hybrid Forms of Peace: From Everyday
Agency to Post-Liberalism. Basingstoke: Palgrave.
Roberts, D. (2008). ‘Hybrid Polities and Indigenous Pluralities: Advanced Lessons
in Statebuilding in Cambodia.’ Journal of Intervention and Statebuilding, 2 (1),
pp. 63–86.
Robins, S. (2009). ‘A Place for Traditions in an Effective Criminal Justice System:
Customary Justice in Sierra Leone, Tanzania and Zambia.’ Institute for
Security Studies, Policy Brief No.17. Available: https://www.issafrica.org/
publications/policy-brief/a-place-for-tradition-in-an-effective-criminal-jus
tice-system-customary-justice-in-sierra-leone-tanzania-and-zambia. [Accessed
21 January 2011].
Rotberg, R. I. (2004). ‘The Failure and Collapse of Nation-States: Breakdown,
Prevention, and Repair.’ In R. I. Rotberg (ed.), When States Fail: Causes and
Consequences. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.
Routledge, P. (1997). ‘The Imagineering of Resistance: Pollok Free State and the
Practice of Postmodern Politics.’ Transactions of the Institute of British
Geographies, 22 (3), pp. 359–376.
Sahn, D. E. (1994). ‘Economic Crisis and Policy Reform in Africa: An Introduction.’
In D. E. Sahn (ed.), Adjusting to Policy Failure in African Economies. Ithaca:
Cornell University Press.
Samatar, A. (1999). An African Miracle: State and Class Leadership and Colonial
Legacy in Botswana Development. Portsmouth: Heinemann.
BIBLIOGRAPHY 229
Sawyer, E. (2008). ‘Remove or Reform? A Case for (Restructuring) Chiefdom

Governance in Post-conflict Sierra Leone.’ African Affairs, 107 (428),
pp. 387–403.
Schmid, H. (1968). ‘Peace Research and Politics.’ Journal of Peace Research, 5 (3),
pp. 217–232.
Schmidt, E. (2013). Foreign Intervention in Africa: From Cold War to War on
Terror. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Scott, J. C. (1985). Weapons of the Weak: Everyday Forms of Peasant Resistance.
New Haven: Yale University Press.
———. (1989). ‘Everyday Forms of Resistance.’ The Copenhagen Journal of Asian
Studies, 4, pp. 33–62.
———. (1990). Domination and the Arts of Resistance: Hidden Transcripts. New
Haven: Yale University Press.
Selby, J. (2013). ‘The Myth of Liberal Peace-Building.’ Conflict, Security &
Development, 13 (1), pp. 57–86.
Sesay, M. (1995). ‘State Capacity and the Politics of Economic Reform in Sierra
Leone.’ Journal of Contemporary African Studies, 13 (2), pp. 165–192.
Sesay, M., Hughes, C. and Lavali, A. (2007). The Civil Society Landscape in Sierra
Leone: Understanding Context, Motives and Challenges. Washington, DC:
World Bank.
Sharp, J. P., et al. (2000). ‘Entanglements of Power: Geographies of Domination/
Resistance.’ In J. P. Sharp, P. Routledge, C. Philo and R. Paddison (eds.),
Entanglements of Power: Geographies of Domination/Resistance. London:
Routledge.
Shaw, R. and Waldorf, L. (2010). ‘Introduction: Localizing Transitional Justice.’
In R. Shaw, L. Waldorf, with P. Hazan (eds.), Localizing Transitional Justice:
Interventions and Priorities After Mass Violence. Stanford: Stanford University
Press.
Shepler, S. (2005). ‘The Rites of the Child: Global Discourse of Youth and
Reintegrating Child Soldiers in Sierra Leone.’ Journal of Human Rights, 4 (2),
pp. 197–211.
Short, C. (2002). ‘Corruption and Government.’ Speech at the British Council
Auditorium, Freetown, the National Archives. Available: http://webarchive.
nationalarchives.gov.uk/+/http://www.dfid.gov.uk/News/Speeches/files/
sp27feb02.html. [Accessed 7 January 2011].
Sierra Leone Commission of Inquiry into Disturbances in the Provinces. (1956).
Report of Commission of Inquiry into Disturbances in the Provinces (November,
1955 to March, 1956). London: Crown Agents for Overseas Governments and
Administrations.
Sierra Leone Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC). (2004a). Witness to
Truth: Report of the Sierra Leone Truth and Reconciliation Commission Volume
3A. Accra: GPL Press.
230 BIBLIOGRAPHY
———. (2004b). Witness to Truth: Report of the Sierra Leone Truth and
Reconciliation Commission Volume 2. Accra: GPL Press.
Sierra Rutile Limited. (2011). Public Consultation and Disclosure Plan (PCDP)
Report. Bonthe District: Community Affairs Department, Sierra Rutile
Limited.
Simmons, B. A., Dobbin, F. and Garrett, G. (2008). ‘Introduction: The Diffusion of
Liberalization.’ In B. A. Simmons, F. Dobbin and G. Garrett (eds.), The Global
Diffusion of Markets and Democracy. Cambridge: Cambridge University.
Sklar, R. L. (1993). ‘The African Frontiers for Political Science.’ In R. H. Bates,
V. Y. Mudimbe and J. O’barr (eds.), Africa and the Disciplines. Chicago:
University of Chicago Press.
Smuts, J. C. (1930). Africa and Some World Problems: Including the Rhodes
Memorial Lectures Delivered in Michaelmas Term, 1929. Oxford: Clarendon
Press.
Snyder, J. L. (2000). From Voting to Violence: Democratization and Nationalist
Conflict. New York: W. W. Norton & Company.
Spivak, G. C. (1988). ‘Can the Subaltern Speak?’ In N. Cary and L. Grossberg
(eds.), Marxism and the Interpretation of Culture. Urbana: University of
Illinois Press.
Sriram, C. L. (2008). Peace as Governance: Power-Sharing, Armed Groups and
Contemporary Peace Negotiations. Basingstoke: Palgrave-Macmillan.
———. (2011). ‘(Re)Building the Rule of Law in Sierra Leone: Beyond the
Formal Sector?’ In C. L. Sriram, O. Martin-Ortega and J. Herman (eds.),
Peacebuilding and Rule of Law in Africa. London: Routledge.
Stovel, L. (2008). ‘“There’s No Bush to Throw Away a Bad Child”: Tradition-
Inspired Reintegration in Post-war Sierra Leone.’ The Journal of Modern
African Studies, 46 (2), pp. 305–324.
Tadjbakhsh, S. (2011). ‘Introduction: Liberal Peace in Dispute.’ In S. Tadjbakhsh
(ed.), Rethinking the Liberal Peace: External Models and Local Alternatives.
Oxon: Routledge.
Tangri, R. (1976). ‘Conflict and Violence in Contemporary Sierra Leone
Chiefdoms.’ The Journal of Modern African Studies, 14 (2), pp. 311–321.
Tarp, F. (1993). Stabilization and Structural Adjustment: Macroeconomic
Frameworks for Analysing the Crisis in Sub-Saharan Africa. London: Routledge.
Taylor, I. (2007). ‘What Fit the Liberal Peace in Africa?’ Global Society, 21 (4),
pp. 553–566.
The Carter Center. (2002). Observing 2002 Sierra Leone Elections: Final Report.
Atlanta, GA: Carter Center.
Thomson, A. (2000). An Introduction to African Politics. London: Routledge.
Thomson, B. (2007). ‘Sierra Leone: Reform or Relapse? Conflict and Governance
Reform.’ A Chatham House Report, the Royal Institute of International
BIBLIOGRAPHY 231
Affairs. Available: http://www.chathamhouse.org.uk/files/9207_reportsierra

leone0607.pdf. [Accessed 18 December 2010].
Tibebu, T. (2011). Hegel and the Third World: The Making of Eurocentrism in
World History. Syracuse, NY: Syracuse University Press.
Tilly, C. (1975). ‘Reflections on the History of European State-Making.’ In C. Tilly
(ed.), The Formation of Nation States in Western Europe. Princeton, NJ: Princeton
University Press.
———. (1990). Coercion, Capital and European States, A.D.990–1990. Oxford:
Basil Blackwell.
Tom, P. (2013). ‘In Search for Emancipatory Hybridity: The Case of Sierra
Leone.’ Peacebuilding, 1 (2), pp. 239–255.
Touval, S. (1999). The Boundary Politics of Independent Africa. San Jose, CA:
ToExcel.
UN. (2000). The Report of the Secretary-General on the Establishment of a Special
Court for Sierra Leone, UN Doc, S/2000/915. Available: http://www.sc-sl.
org/scsl/Public/SCSL-03-07-Kallon/SCSL-03-07-PT-142/SCSL-03-07-
PT-142-IX.pdf. [Accessed 18 December 2010].
———. (2009). Joint Vision for Sierra Leone of the United Nations’ Family.
Freetown: United Nations Integrated Peacebuilding Office.
UNDP. (2009a). ‘Donor Proposal for Conflict Prevention and Recovery 2009–
2010.’ Available: http://www.undp.org/cpr/documents/conflict_proposal_
final.pdf. [Accessed 23 December 2010].
———. (2009b). Summary: Human Development Report 2009. Available: http://
hdr.undp.org/en/media/HDR_2009_EN_Summary.pdf. [Accessed 13 March
2011].
———. (2010). Human Development Report 2010: The Real Wealth of Nations:
Pathways to Human Development. New York: Palgrave MacMillan.
———. (2012). Governance for Peace: Securing the Social Contract. New York:
UNDP.
———. (2014). Sierra Leone at a Glance. New York: UNDP.
———. (2015). Human Development Report 2015: Work for Human
Development. New York: UNDP.
———. (2016). Engaged Societies, Responsive: The Social Contract in Situations of
Conflict and Fragility. New York: UNDP.
UN General Assembly. (1946). ‘Calling of an International Conference on Freedom
of Information.’ Resolution 59(1), 14 December. Available: http://daccess-dds-
ny.un.org/doc/RESOLUTION/GEN/NR0/033/10/IMG/NR003310.
pdf?OpenElement. [Accessed 5 February 2011].
UN General Assembly. (2005). 2005 World Summit Outcome, GA Res 60/1, UN
GAOR, 60th Sess., UN Doc. A/RES/60/1. Available: http://www.ifrc.org/
docs/idrl/I520EN.pdf. [Accessed 28 August 2015].
232 BIBLIOGRAPHY
UNIPSIL. (2014). ‘Feature: Drawing down – the End of UN Peace Operations in

Sierra Leone.’ Available: http://unipsil.unmissions.org/Default.aspx?tabid=
9611&ctl=Details&mid=12590&ItemID=20681&language=en-US.
[Accessed 4 April 2016].
———. (n.d.). ‘About UNIPSIL.’ Available: http://unipsil.unmissions.org/.
[Accessed 18 January 2011].
UN Secretary-General. (2009). Report of the UN Secretary-General on
Peacebuilding in the Immediate Aftermath of Conflict. A/63/881–S/2009/
304. June 11. New York. Available: http://www.un.org/ga/search/view_
doc.asp?symbol=A/63/881. [Accessed 4 November 2015].
UN Secretary-General. (2010). Fifth Report of the Secretary-General on the United
Nations Integrated Peacebuilding Office in Sierra Leone. Available: http://
daccess-dds-ny.un.org/doc/UNDOC/GEN/N10/530/91/PDF/
N1053091.pdf?OpenElement. [Accessed 20 December 2010].
UN Security Council (1992). Provisional Verbatim Record of the Three Thousand
and Forty-Six Meeting. UN Doc. S/PV.3046. New York: United Nations.
van de Walle, N. (2003). ‘Presidentialism and Clientelism in Africa’s Emerging
Party Systems.’ Journal of Modern Africa Studies, 42 (2), pp. 297–321.
van Rouveroy van Nieuwaal, E. A. B. (1987). ‘Chiefs and African States: Some
Introductory Notes and an Extensive Bibliography on African Chieftaincy.’
Journal of Legal Pluralism and Unofficial Legal, 19 (25–26), pp. 1–46.
Waldron, J. (1987). ‘Theoretical Foundations of Liberalism.’ The Philosophical
Quarterly, 37 (147), pp. 127–150.
Weber, M. (1978). Economy and Society: An Outline of Interpretive Sociology.
Berkeley: University of California Press.
White House. (2002). ‘The National Security Strategy of the United States of
America.’ Washington, DC, September. Available: http://www.state.gov/
documents/organization/63562.pdf. [Accessed: 10 March 2015].
Willet, S. (2005). ‘New Barbarians at the Gate: Losing the Liberal Peace in Africa.’
Review of African Political Economy, 32 (106), pp. 569–594.
Williams, A. (2006). Liberalism and War: The Victors and the Vanquished.
London: Routledge.
Williams, D. (2009). ‘Liberalism as “Project to be Realised”.’ DIIS Working Paper
2009: 16. Available: https://www.econstor.eu/bitstream/10419/44639/1/
623897075.pdf. [Accessed 8 June 2012].
———. (2010). ‘Making a Liberal State: “Good Governance” in Ghana.’ Review
of African Political Economy, 37 (126), pp. 403–419.
Williams, D. and Young, T. (2012). ‘Civil Society and the Liberal Project in Ghana
and Sierra Leone.’ Journal of Intervention and Statebuilding, 6 (1), pp. 7–22.
Wolf, E. (1990). ‘Distinguished Lecture: Facing Power-Old Insights, New
Questions.’ American Anthropologist, 92 (3), pp. 586–596.
BIBLIOGRAPHY 233
World Bank. (1981). Accelerated Development in Sub-Saharan Africa: An Agenda

for Action. Washington, DC: The World Bank.
———. (1983). Sub-Saharan Africa: Progress Report on Development Prospects and
Programs. Washington, DC: The World Bank.
———. (1994). Adjustment in Africa: Reforms, Results and the Road Ahead.
Oxford: Oxford University Press.
———. (2008a). ‘Analysis of Post Conflict Land Policy and Land Administration:
A Survey of IDP Return and Resettlement Issues and Lessons: Acholi and
Lango Regions.’ Available: http://www.oxfam.org.uk/resources/learning/
landrights/downloads/northern_uganda_land_study_acholi_lango.pdf.
[Accessed 16 October 2010].
———. (2008b). World Bank Report 2008: Agriculture for Development.
Washington, DC: The World Bank.
———. (2011). Conflict, Security and Development. Washington, DC: World
Bank.
Young, C. (1994). The African Colonial State in Comparative Perspective. New
Haven, CT: Yale University Press.
———. (2004). ‘The End of the Post-colonial State in Africa? Reflections on
Changing African Political Dynamics.’ African Affairs, 103 (410), pp. 23–49.
Young, R. J. C. (1995). Colonial Desire: Hybridity in Theory, Culture, and Race.
London: Routledge.
Young, T. (2002). ‘“A Project to be Realized”: Global Liberalism and a New
World Order.’ In E. Hovden and E. Keen (eds.), The Globalisation Liberalism.
Basingstoke: Palgrave.
———. (2003). ‘Introduction.’ In T. Young (ed.), Readings in African Politics.
London: International African Institute.
Zack-Williams, A. B. and Mohan, G. (2007). ‘Imperial, Neo-Liberal Africa?’
Review of African Political Economy, 34 (113), pp. 417–422.
Zanotti, L. (2011). Governing Disorder: UN Peace Operations, International
Security and Democratisation in the Post-Cold War Era. University Park, PA:
Pennsylvania State University Press.
Zaum, D. (2012). ‘Beyond the “Liberal Peace”.’ Global Governance, 18 (1),
pp. 121–132.
INDEX
A African societies, 5, 9–15, 19, 28, 63

Abdullah, I., 126–128, 131–133, pre-colonial, 14, 15, 21
135–138, 142n6 African states, 1, 5, 9–11, 24–32, 34,
Abrahamsen, R., 32, 33 36n1, 36n7, 52, 63, 126, 134,
Accountability, 18, 45, 64, 76, 135, 184
145–146, 154, 170, 179, 183, independent, 11, 24
186–189, 198, 201n3 new, 27–29
Actors, 1–3, 5–7, 12, 23, 26, 30, 31, African traditional political
39, 40, 47, 54, 56, 65, 71, 76, institutions, 19
86–88, 91, 94, 98, 108–114, Agency, 3, 5, 6, 9, 23, 60, 77, 78,
134–136, 176, 180, 197, 199 81–83, 86, 90, 91, 93–95, 101,
violent state, 114 105, 107, 110–112, 114, 115,
Affective ties, 65, 145, 167, 168 144, 156, 158, 165–166,
Afghanistan, 40, 42, 53, 114 172–174, 176, 179, 181, 183,
Africa 198, 200, 204–206
colonial, 36n8 Agenda for Peace, 43, 44, 68n1
liberal peace in, 5, 203 Agreement, power-sharing, 138
post-colonial, 10, 23, 33 Alie, J. A. D., 17, 80, 81, 96, 103n5,
post-colonial state in, 31 122, 123, 139, 141n3
pre-colonial, 57, 120 Angola, 1, 12, 31, 34, 37n13, 42, 44,
rural, 21, 81 45, 49, 50, 71, 73, 74
Africa colonialism, 23 Annan, K., 45, 46
African leaders, 1, 25–28, 33 Approaches
new, 25, 26, 28 customary, 81, 160n5
Africans, 9, 11, 13, 14, 18, 20, 26, institutional, 56, 57, 152
28–30, 33, 34, 81, 121 maximalist, 48
ordinary, 11, 33, 34 problem-solving, 78, 82, 101, 106

DOI 10.1057/978-1-137-57291-2
236 INDEX
Approaches (cont.) Chabal, P., 36n11, 93

state-centred, 45, 116 Chiefdom authorities, 7, 125, 169,
traditional, 82, 83, 171, 173 180, 183–188
Asian developmental states, 58 Chiefdom committees, 187–188,
Authoritarianism, 10, 74, 77–78 190n5, 190n7
Authority, 7, 11–12, 15–18, 20, Chiefdom Development
21, 25, 28, 57, 75, 88, 96, 112, fund, 162n11, 185, 193
116, 120, 122, 124, 125, 129, Chiefdom politics, 123, 124, 125
141n3, 146, 151, 152, 156, 180, Chiefdoms, 15, 79, 91, 103n5, 120,
188, 207 124–126, 148, 162n11, 169,
Autonomous maneuvering, 165–177 170, 177n3, 180, 184, 186, 195,
Autonomy, 12, 27, 55, 82, 101, 122, 198, 199
129, 163n16, 176, 198, 206 Chiefs, 7, 11, 12, 15, 17–18, 20–21,
36n5, 80, 96, 113, 120–125,
133, 147, 158, 169–171, 173,
B 175, 179–189, 193, 195, 198,
Bangura, Y., 131–133, 156, 159, 199, 201n1, 201n7, 201n8, 207
172, 173 powerful, 120, 122, 123
Barbarism, new form of, 128–129 Chiefs and elders, 133, 185, 187, 189
Bellamy, A. J., 78 Chieftaincy, 11, 81, 121, 124, 125,
Belloni, R., 4, 110–114, 117, 192, 129, 145, 151, 158, 183, 184,
195, 205 193–195, 197
Bhabha, H., 96 Chieftaincy system, 11, 145, 183,
Bøås, M., 129 184, 193
Boege, V., 79, 103n4, 111–113 Civil society, 50, 58, 64–67, 73, 76,
Boersch-Supan, J., 7, 180, 183, 185, 80–81, 114, 126, 129, 140,
187, 190n5 144–147, 156, 160, 165, 167–168,
Boone, C., 20–22 181, 184, 197, 199, 201n3, 207
Border disputes, 25, 26 Civil war, 1, 6, 10, 11, 29, 34, 37n13,
Boutros-Ghali, B., 43–45 42, 44, 45, 50–52, 57, 58, 61, 63,
Burkina Faso, 37n13, 134, 135, 68, 74, 82, 84, 100, 119, 128–137,
142n7 139, 143–146, 148–152, 156, 165,
168, 170, 174, 175, 179, 181, 183,
193, 195–197
C Civil war Sierra Leone, 148, 152
Capacity, 29, 43, 45, 52, 53, 56, 75, Cleansing ceremonies, 81, 172, 174,
90, 99–101, 106, 112, 132, 175, 197
143–144, 146, 152, 161n8, Clientelistic politics, 28–30
170, 205 Cohesion, socio-political, 57
Capitalism, 67, 74, 76, 97 Cold War, 1, 5, 30, 31, 34–35, 39,
neo-liberal, 74 42–43, 45, 51, 59, 71, 72, 98,
CDF (Civil Defence Forces), 134, 138 100, 105, 134, 149
INDEX 237
Collapsed states, 1, 3, 35, 68 Contact zones, 87–88, 110, 117n2

Collier, P., 54, 128, 138 Contemporary peacebuilding, 6, 43,
Colonial government, 21, 22, 25, 31, 59, 68, 87, 105, 110–111, 117,
96, 121–123, 125, 141n2, 141n3 203–204
Colonial inheritance, 6, 10, 23–27, Control, 1, 7, 18, 19, 22, 23, 26–32,
36n2, 119 42, 54, 76, 89, 91, 92, 96, 116,
Colonialism, 18, 23–26, 28, 30, 36n2, 123, 127–130, 133, 138, 140,
36n7, 95, 97–99, 119 147, 151, 159, 165, 174, 180,
Colonial rule, 9–37, 50, 100, 183, 184, 187–189, 192, 205, 207
122–124, 126, 180 Cooper, N., 84–86, 147
Colonial state, 9, 10, 18, 20, 22, 23, Corruption, 6, 10, 29, 33, 49, 51, 67,
35n1, 96, 98, 121, 122, 125, 80, 83, 113, 119, 130, 133, 134,
126, 141n1 137, 145, 151–156, 158, 159,
Combatants, former, 77, 81, 134, 169, 185
144, 158 Cowan, G. L., 27–28
Communities, 2, 7, 25, 45, 79, 86, CPA, see Comprehensive peace
97, 99, 107, 113, 134, 140, agreement
147, 151, 153, 154, 156, 160, Creating liberal market
160n4, 163n19, 165–167, democracies, 59
169–173, 175, 176, 182, 183, Creoles, 121
196–198, 200 Crisis, 6, 10, 13, 30–32, 37n13, 51,
host, 153, 154 55, 83–85, 106, 119, 128–134,
Community authorities, 113, 199 139, 140, 144, 149, 152
Community members, 162n10, economic, 30–32, 37n13, 51, 133
174, 175 Cultural institutions, 17, 120
Comprehensive peace agreement Culture, 10, 12, 14, 20, 23, 32, 35n1,
(CPA), 41, 50–51, 69n7 59–61, 69n4, 78, 87, 96–97,
concept, post-conflict, 40–42 116, 120, 121, 126, 128, 129,
Conflict 131–134, 152, 158, 167, 171,
armed, 42, 44, 46, 49 173, 187, 192, 199, 201n10,
civil, 53, 203 203, 204
generational, 7, 180 dominant, 116
internal, 35, 54, 62, 134, 203 Customary practices, 10–11, 144,
interstate, 30 186–187, 193
intra-state, 73
resolving, 45, 46, 73, 173, 199
Conflict management, 45 D
Conflict prevention, 45 Davidson, B., 10, 22, 23, 25–26
Conflict resolution, 79–81, 103n4, Decolonization, 23, 25–26, 30, 31,
171, 172, 197 37n14, 126, 127
Conflict transformation, 2, 78, 184 Demobilization, 42, 77, 139,
Consumers, global, 172–174 140, 144
238 INDEX
Democracy, 9–11, 28, 44–49, E

59–62, 67, 68, 72–76, 98, 114, East Timor, 39, 50, 76, 78, 85, 110,
126, 136, 143, 144, 146, 150, 111, 115
155, 157, 165, 167, 173, 174, Ebola, 13, 55, 151, 160n3,
179, 181, 183, 187, 198, 199, 166, 207
201n2 ECOMOG forces, 135, 138, 139
liberal market, 48, 59, 74, Economic development, 6, 19, 27, 32,
76, 98 55, 84, 102
Democratic peace thesis, 59–63, 76 Economic growth, 25, 29–30, 37n13,
Democratization, 2, 10, 11, 59, 67, 73, 147, 153, 156, 161n8
75, 102n1, 102n2, 109, 147, Economics
159, 184, 198 liberal, 74, 108, 143, 153, 155
rapid, 109 neo-liberal, 74, 108, 143, 153,
Development 155, 158
chiefdom, 153–154, 162n11, Economy, 32, 50, 56, 58, 59, 63, 83,
163n13, 185–186, 193 103n2, 129, 130, 142n6, 145,
human, 147, 149, 151 147, 156, 189
sustainable, 47, 153 free market, 58, 59
Development agencies, 63, 66, 67, Effective state institutions, 2, 7,
146, 195 42, 46, 56, 76, 143, 144, 150,
Development projects, 67, 169, 151, 160
170, 184 Elders, 11, 107, 125, 133, 180, 181,
DFID (Department for International 185, 187, 188, 192
Development), 40, 100, 133, Elections, 14, 34, 42, 44, 45, 52, 62,
146, 147, 149, 150, 158, 181, 73, 74, 76, 103n3, 137–140,
195, 207, 207n1 148, 149, 152, 163n19, 173,
Diamonds, 130, 132, 136–138, 184, 195
142n10, 174 Elites
Dilemma analysis, 86 dominant, 92
District councils, 120, 129, 154, local governing, 193–195
160n4, 169, 181–183, 193 new African state, 125
Dominant liberal peace non-state, 193
paradigm, 72 Emancipation, 4, 6, 7, 48, 78, 105,
Domination, 20, 23, 89, 91–94, 96, 114–116, 196, 200, 205
97, 115, 157, 180 Emancipatory hybridity, 8, 114,
Doyle, M., 61, 71 191–201, 205
DRC (Democratic Republic of Empirical research, 85, 94, 113–116,
Congo), 34–35, 41, 42, 200, 204
103n8 Empowerment, 48, 109, 133, 147,
Durable peace, 4, 6, 7, 11, 39, 54, 86, 181–183, 200
87, 107, 117, 119, 159, 189, Englebert, P., 29–30, 37n15, 144
192, 200, 205 Equality, 62, 64, 147, 170, 183
INDEX 239
Ethnic groups, 2, 14, 17, 25, 28, 29, GoSL, see Government of Sierra Leone
33, 36n5, 80, 120, 127, 129, Governance, 4, 5, 10–11, 15, 18, 21,
156–159 33, 45, 46, 49, 50, 53–56, 67, 68,
Europe, 23, 26, 57–58, 73, 106, 73, 77, 79, 83, 96, 98–101, 108,
115, 170 109, 111–114, 113, 123, 125,
European colonialism, 98 126, 134, 139, 143, 144–147,
Everyday, 3, 41, 50, 60, 84, 86, 92, 150, 152, 156, 158, 167, 168,
107, 153, 204 173, 179, 183, 186, 187, 192,
Everyday life, 2, 11, 14, 17, 84, 91, 193, 195, 196, 199, 201n3
92, 116 Government of Sierra Leone
Everyday resistance, 89, 91–93, 116 (GoSL), 18, 131, 135, 136, 139,
Exclusion, 84, 114, 131, 133, 134, 146, 147, 150, 162n10, 168,
153, 179, 181, 191, 195, 196 181, 194
Exercise power, 18, 88–91 Grassroots, 3, 7, 8, 59, 60, 83, 107,
chiefdoms, 91 109–110, 125, 158, 160, 168,
External actors, 22, 30, 31, 48, 57, 94, 180, 192, 197, 199, 205
101, 108 Guinea, 11, 13, 16, 27, 31, 47, 52,
114, 134, 136, 138, 140, 150
F
Failure, 1, 6, 26, 29, 46, 49, 60, 63,
H
68, 71, 72, 82, 84, 93, 94, 98,
Hope Sierra Leone, 7, 167, 171–174,
106, 119, 133, 140, 144, 150,
176, 201n4, 201n8, 206
152–156, 159, 171, 175, 182,
Human rights, 25, 34, 44–47, 49, 52,
193, 194
54, 67–68, 80, 99, 134, 139,
liberal peace’s, 159
144, 145, 147–148, 150, 160n2,
Fambul Tok, 7, 167, 171–174,
167, 170–174, 176, 179, 181,
199, 206
183, 187, 195, 198, 199, 201n1,
Farms, peace mothers, 167, 197,
201n3, 201n7
199–200
Human security, 41, 45, 54, 100
France, 19, 30, 55, 95
Hybrid forms of peace, 2–4, 6, 7, 86,
Freetown, 96, 121, 134, 136, 138,
94, 95, 102, 105, 107, 111, 179,
139, 150–153, 156, 169, 171
188, 189, 191, 200, 204
Fukuyama, F., 53–54, 69n3, 69n5, 72
Hybridity
institutional, 112, 196
G liberal-local, 111
Gallagher, J., 149, 150 local-liberal, 111
Ghana, 12, 14, 18, 23–25, 27, 31, understanding of, 114, 196
36n5, 37n13, 135 Hybridity and resistance, 4, 5,
Good governance, 45, 46, 49, 67, 68, 105, 117
98–100, 146, 150, 160n2, 167, Hybridization, 90, 94, 97, 148,
179, 183, 187, 193, 199, 201n2 199, 204
240 INDEX
Hybrid peace, 7, 87, 90, 91, 94, 105, Interference, excessive state, 32
108–114, 179, 180, 192, 205 Internally displaced persons
Hybrid peace governance, (IDPs), 34, 41
111–114, 192 International actors, 2, 3, 5, 6, 12, 40,
Hybrid political orders, 3, 5, 107, 43, 53, 57, 58, 60, 71, 73, 83,
111–112, 191, 194 86–91, 98, 110, 112, 113, 143,
144, 146–149, 151, 152, 159,
160n5, 165, 167, 168, 177, 179,
I 192–195, 203–205
IDPs, see Internally displaced persons International community, 26, 39, 53,
IFIs (international financial 79, 100, 149, 207
institutions), 32, 40, 47, 73, International donors, 2, 30, 32, 55,
146, 155 65, 108, 109, 132, 148, 152,
Illiberal, 2, 61–63, 76, 77, 112, 165, 167–168, 171, 176
145, 192 International peace
IMF (International Monetary new threats to, 43
Fund), 32, 33, 40, 66, 130, 146, threat to, 1, 63, 68
155, 160n1 International peacebuilding, 2–4,
Independent states, 24, 26 6, 7, 9, 47, 49, 53, 59, 62,
Indigenous, 11, 14–17, 20–22, 24, 63, 67, 71, 78, 82, 84, 87, 88,
27, 58, 65, 79, 82, 83, 88, 96, 91–95, 99, 105–117, 144, 158,
106, 112, 121, 123, 125–127, 166–167, 171, 173, 177, 179,
144, 151, 152, 158, 162n9, 168, 191, 204
173, 196 context of, 62, 87, 88, 91, 95, 105,
Indigenous African, 14–17 108, 179, 191, 204
Indigenous approaches, 82 International peacebuilding
Indigenous people, 22, 24, 96 interventions, 67, 109
Indirect rule, 20, 21, 96, 121, 122 International peace initiatives, 7, 94,
Informalization, 131–132 115, 156, 180
Infrapolitics, 82, 92, 93 International peace-support
Institutionalization, 43, 44, 56, 57, interventions, 88–91
75–77, 194 International relations, 13, 43, 61,
Institutional state-centric agendas, 96, 180
50, 59 International state builders, 86, 155
Institution building, 77, 144 Intervention, 2, 3, 5, 9, 30–34, 50–56,
Institutions 59, 67–68, 88–91, 98, 99, 101,
formal, 112, 113, 192–194 107–110, 115, 120, 140,
informal, 112–113, 192–194 148–150, 167, 170, 174, 203
local, 77, 112, 113, 125, 171, external, 5, 9, 34, 37n13, 101,
192, 199 107, 120
non-state, 88, 158, 192, 201n1 Intrastate conflicts, 1, 2, 5, 34–35, 39,
strong, 76, 77 40, 42–43, 50
INDEX 241
J Liberal agendas, 65, 168

Jackson, P., 4, 121, 133 Liberal democracies, 9, 11, 61,
Jackson. R. H., 26, 27, 36n10, 36n11, 73, 167
113, 179, 180 Liberal democratic state, 40, 126,
Justice, 42, 48–50, 54, 55, 59, 74, 150, 158
78–84, 109, 110, 113, 122, 123, Liberal economic order, 143, 155
144, 147–148, 183, 184, 193–197 Liberal goals, 66, 68
social, 49, 50, 59, 74, 83–84 Liberal internationalists, 63, 86, 158,
159, 203
Liberalism, 40, 61–64, 66, 68, 72, 74,
K 77, 85, 102n1, 206
Kabbah, A. T., 137–138, 140, basic values of, 206
148, 150 Liberalization
Kailahun District, 160n4, 174, 182, economic, 2, 46, 71, 74, 76, 146,
190n8, 196, 198 154, 155, 203
Kenya, 23–25, 103n3 market, 32, 73, 76, 102n2
Knowledge, 99–100, 107, 112, 114, political, 72–75
168, 187–188, 203 rapid, 74
Kosovo, 73, 76, 78, 85, 110, 113, 115 Liberal peace, 3–7, 35, 39–69,
71–103, 105–107, 110–116,
126, 140, 143–164, 166–168,
L 170, 172, 174, 176, 180, 181,
Lambach, D., 40, 42, 107 187, 188, 191–194, 196–200,
Land, 13–14, 22, 79, 121, 153–156, 203–206
161n8, 162n10, 162n12, 184, Liberal peacebuilding, 2–7, 11, 40, 58,
189, 195 59, 63, 67–68, 71, 72, 76, 78, 83,
Landowners, 153–155, 162n11, 85, 86, 88, 90, 91, 97–101,
162n12 103n6, 105–108, 110, 119,
Lavali, A., 145, 167–169 139–140, 148, 156–159, 173,
Law, 4, 5, 17, 20–22, 45, 48, 49, 54, 174, 177, 191, 206
56, 58–60, 67, 68, 73, 79, 80, 96, context of, 4, 7, 91, 105, 110
122, 123, 133, 136, 144, 145, Liberal peace project, 4, 67, 94, 99,
148, 150, 153, 167, 173, 174, 107, 144–148, 160, 174, 199
179, 181, 183, 185, 189, 194 Liberal state
Legitimacy, 3, 6, 20–22, 27, 29, legitimate, 68
33, 54, 56, 57, 62, 72, 84, 87, 88, strong, 155
90, 94, 96, 101, 110, 112, 122, Liberia, 12, 13, 34, 35, 36n3, 42,
140, 154, 167, 169, 171, 176, 47, 50–52, 54–55, 63, 73,
191, 194 85, 111, 114, 115, 133–136,
Legitimacy approach, 56, 57 140, 142n7
Legitimate local government Liberty, 62
institution, 145, 193 Libya, 24, 42, 54, 135, 136, 139
242 INDEX
Local Marginalization, 84, 114, 129,

agency, 2, 3, 5, 6, 77, 83, 86, 90, 132–134, 152, 155, 163n19,
93, 101, 106, 111, 112, 114, 179, 181, 191, 194–196, 200
117, 144, 156, 158, 204 Mining company, 153–154, 162n10,
communities, 113, 140, 167, 170, 163n13, 163n14
173, 198 Mozambique, 1, 11, 12, 31, 37n13,
context, 2, 6, 58, 75, 78, 86, 90, 95, 39, 44, 49, 63, 71, 85, 111,
108, 119, 129, 179, 191, 199, 113, 125
204, 206
councils, 145, 148, 149, 169, 193
courts, 79, 103n5, 148, 180, 185, N
190n7, 195, 201n6 Namibia, 12, 23, 36n7, 39, 44, 52,
legitimacy, 3, 87, 96, 110, 122, 194 71, 85
ownership, 82, 101, 163n16, 204 National Patriotic Front of Liberia, see
peacebuilding agencies, 94 NPFL
peacebuilding agendas, 167, 171 Nation-building, 11, 57, 58, 156
politics, 107, 122, 158, 159, 199 Neo-colonialism, 30, 97
resistance, 88, 91, 93, 101, 103n7 Neo-patrimonial politics,
Local actors, 3, 6, 54, 71, 76, 77, 86, 7, 158, 160
87, 89, 90, 94, 95, 105, NGOs, 7, 8, 33, 40, 82, 83, 100,
107–108, 111, 117n2, 165–167, 114, 123, 133, 145, 165–177,
172, 179, 201n2, 204–207 181–186, 192, 196–199,
agency of, 6, 105, 111, 165, 201n3, 201n4, 201n10, 204,
179, 204 205, 207n1
Local NGOs, 7, 8, 83, 123, 165–177, Nigeria, 1, 11, 12, 16, 26, 79, 103n3,
185, 192, 196–199, 201n3, 134, 135, 138
201n10, 204, 205 Northern Uganda, 41, 42, 79
liberal peace-oriented, 192 NPFL, 51, 135, 136
Local organizations, 166, 170, 172,
174, 199
Lome Peace Agreement, 138–140 O
Lord’s Resistance Army, see LRA OAU, see Organization of African
LRA, 41 Unity
OECD, see Organization for
Economic Cooperation and
M Development
Mac Ginty, R., 2, 41, 59–61, 71–72, Organization for Economic
77, 78, 82, 84–85, 88, 90, 95, Cooperation and
107, 108, 111, 112, 177n2, Development, 54
204, 205 Organization of African Unity, 24
Mali, 14, 54–56, 134 Ownership, national, 108,
Margai, Milton, 126–127 109, 147
INDEX 243
P Peacebuilding Support Office, 47

Palava hut, 197 Peace hut, 167, 175, 197, 199
Paramount Chiefs, 12, 15, 18, 79, 80, Peacekeeping, 35, 39, 42–44, 52, 78,
96, 121–125, 133, 147, 154, 158, 110, 148, 149, 177n2, 206
162n10, 162n11, 162n13, Peacemaking, 43, 44, 78, 79, 81, 82,
163n16, 173, 175, 177n3, 180, 87, 89, 90, 101, 108, 115, 116,
181, 184, 185, 187–188, 192–195, 152, 171, 173, 199
201n1, 201n6, 201n7, 207 Peace tree, 167, 197–199, 201n4
Paris, R., 46, 52, 53, 59, 71, 72, Peters, K., 7, 132, 133, 180
74–76, 84–86, 90, 98, 106, 140 Political culture, 10, 35n1, 126, 158
Participation, 27, 44, 49, 50, 67, 81, Post-colonial, 3, 5, 9–11, 23–31,
82, 102n1, 132, 138, 181, 185, 33, 96, 98, 115, 122, 125–129,
187, 198, 199 140, 204
Participatory politics, 34, 49 Post-colonial Africa states, 33
Partnership, 99–101, 110, 207n1 Post-colonial states, 9–10, 23, 26–31,
Patrimonialism, 128, 130–132, 126, 129
158, 159 Post-conflict, 2–6, 9–12, 40–42, 44,
crisis of, 128, 130–132 45, 48, 50, 52, 56–60, 63, 65, 71,
Patronage, 10, 18, 29, 123, 126, 130, 73, 74, 77, 81–84, 86–88, 90, 94,
131, 158, 159, 192, 196 95, 98, 101, 105–108, 110, 111,
Patronage politics, 130, 158, 194, 195 113–117, 143–164, 166, 182,
Patrons, 30, 113, 159, 194 191, 204, 205
Peace Post-conflict peacebuilding, 2–4, 40,
conceptualized, 111, 196 42–48, 50, 59, 72, 82, 93, 110,
consolidate, 49, 192, 196 143, 206
dimensions of, 108, 204 Post-conflict statebuilding, 50–56
distinctive forms of, 107, 191 Post-liberal peace, 3, 4, 72, 108,
emancipatory, 60, 93, 188, 204 114–116, 177, 206
hybridized forms of, 108, 110, 116 Poverty, 33, 46, 48, 49, 53–55, 60,
local forms of, 4, 82, 108, 111, 167 83, 84, 101, 116, 130, 132–134,
Peace agreement, 41, 42, 50–52, 146–147, 151, 153–155
69n7, 138–140 Poverty reduction, 146–147
comprehensive, 41, 50–51, Power
69n7, 138 economic, 3, 124, 129, 131, 140,
Peace and security, 1, 39, 43, 46, 53, 190n5
58, 61, 63, 73, 175 exercise of, 66, 93, 94, 129
Peacebuilding imperial, 19
concept, 5, 42, 44, 45, 48 a liberal design of, 100
local forms of, 82, 167 material, 183, 188, 189
post-liberal, 72, 114 seized, 127–128, 181
resistance and international, 91–95 transfer of, 128, 148
understanding of, 50 Power dynamics, 91, 95, 108, 205
244 INDEX
Powerful states, aggressive, 2, 68 S

Power relations, 3, 75, 87, 95, 97, 105, SAPs (structural adjustment
153, 166, 177, 179–180, 183 programs), 32–35
Sawyer, E., 4, 79, 80, 183, 193, 195
SBCs (State Building Contracts), 54
R Schmid, H., 30, 37n14, 60
Rashid, I., 126–128, 131–133, 135, Scott, J. C., 89, 91–93, 95, 133
137, 138 Secret societies, 17–18, 80, 81,
Reconciliation, 42, 48–50, 52, 56, 59, 93, 141n4, 145, 151, 156, 158,
78, 79, 81, 82, 113, 122, 148, 167, 168, 192, 197, 198,
156, 172, 173, 197, 198, 201n4 201n9, 207
Reform, 4, 32, 33, 42, 46, 63, 67, 68, Security, 1, 4, 13, 25, 39, 41, 43–48,
84, 85, 94, 100, 139, 144–147, 50, 53–55, 57, 58, 61, 63, 66, 68,
152, 184 73, 83, 100, 108, 109, 112, 130,
security sector, 4, 42, 50, 68, 139, 143, 144, 150, 153, 155, 156,
144, 146, 152 166, 175, 183, 184, 192, 197
Reintegration, 42, 77, 81, 139, 144 Security sector reform (SSR), 4, 42,
Relations 68, 139, 144, 146, 152
political, 15, 16 Sensitization programs, 181, 183,
youth-traditional authority, 7, 180 184, 187
Resistance, 3–7, 18, 20, 41, 88–95, Shaw, R., 94
97, 101, 107–113, 123, 128, Sierra Leone
131, 148, 154, 155, 171–177, civil war, 6, 11, 100, 119, 128, 129,
182, 186, 188, 198, 204 134, 135, 139, 142n5, 144,
Revolutionary United Front, see RUF 148, 151, 152
Richards, P., 2, 4, 7, 41, 113, 128–133, peacebuilding in, 3, 4, 6, 139,
137, 138, 179–180, 183 144, 165
Richmond, O. P., 59, 61, 65, 69n6, post-colonial, 122, 126–128, 140
71, 72, 77–78, 83–86, 88, 90, 91, rural, 7, 80, 145, 152, 168, 180,
94, 99, 103n4, 107–109, 111, 184, 201n9
113, 114, 168, 204, 205 Sierra Leone People’s Party, see SLPP
Rights, 19, 20, 22, 59, 62, 66, 67, Sierra Leone Truth and Reconciliation
114, 121, 153–155, 170, Commission3, 122, 197
183–186, 196, 198, 200 SLPP (Sierra Leone People’s
individual, 59, 62, 66 Party, 126, 127, 137, 139, 140,
RUF (Revolutionary United 142n8, 146, 148, 150, 157,
Front), 128–140, 142n7, 142n8, 163n17, 163n18, 164n19
142n9, 142n10, 164n19, 175, 181 Social contract, 18, 22, 87, 109, 144,
Rural communities, 7, 156, 160, 166, 159, 176
171, 196–198, 200 Somalia, 25, 31, 34, 35, 44, 73,
Rwanda, 13, 34, 41, 49, 50, 73, 79, 124
74, 113 Somaliland, 79, 111–113, 115
INDEX 245
South Africa, 11–12, 23, 31, 36n7, Thomson, A., 25, 36n11, 37n12,
41, 79 57, 113
South Sudan, 41, 50–51, 54 Town chief, 153–154, 161n8,
Sovereignty, 21–24, 26, 27, 30, 45, 180–182, 184–187, 197,
59, 88, 107, 117n3 198, 200
Sriram, C. L., 77, 80, 81 Traditional authorities, 91, 96, 107,
State 133, 148, 169, 179–189, 193
building, 54, 57, 59 Traditional leaders, 12, 21, 36n3, 79,
failed, 26, 40, 53, 56, 111 96, 113, 122, 173
fragile, 11, 51–54, 149 Traditional peacekeeping
weak, 39, 53–54, 63, 69n5, 77, approach, 35, 39
134, 149 Traditions, 14, 17, 78–80, 121, 133,
State autocracy, 128, 136 147, 167, 170–172, 181, 198
Statebuilding, 3–5, 10, 27, 28, 39–69, Transparency, 45, 56, 151, 154, 167,
71, 78, 84, 86, 98, 105, 183, 186–187, 198
107–112, 115, 143, 144, TRC (Truth and Reconciliation
148–156, 158, 191 Commission), 121, 122, 135,
dilemmas of, 86 139, 144, 145, 153, 160n5,
Statebuilding and peacebuilding, 3, 171, 197
98, 111, 112, 143, 144 Tree, cotton, 197–199
State capacity, 75 Tribal Authorities, 141n3, 148,
State failure, 1, 6, 63, 119, 133 152, 186
State formation, 57, 58
State legitimacy, 29, 57
Stateless societies, 16–17 U
concentrations of, 16 Uganda, 11, 12, 24, 29, 37n13, 41,
State power, 18–23, 53, 66, 128 42, 79
State sovereignty, 21, 30, 59 UNDP, 54, 84, 109, 151, 166
Structural adjustment programs, see UNIPSIL, 149, 160n2
SAPs United Nations, 2, 13, 25, 45, 46,
Sub-Saharan Africa, 1, 14, 24, 32, 51, 55, 69n1, 76, 139, 149,
34, 73 181, 182
Sudan, 1, 16, 26, 37n13, 41, 50–51, United States, see US
54, 110 US, 53, 62, 132, 139, 160n5,
162n11, 172, 174
T
Taylor, I. C., 33, 67, 71, 77–78, 159 V
Tensions Villagers/communities, 197
civil war-related, 174 Violence
intergenerational, 184–185, domestic, 174
188–189 political, 75, 142n5
246 INDEX
Violent conflict, 3, 6, 39, 41, 43–46, Williams, P., 78

48–52, 55, 59, 60, 63, 71, 73–75, Women empowerment, 182
78, 81, 84, 88, 91, 95, 101, World Bank, 31–33, 37n15, 40, 48,
108–110, 115, 134, 179, 205 54, 66, 73, 84, 108–109, 130,
Violent intrastate conflicts, 1, 2, 5, 39, 144, 146, 153, 155, 160n1,
43, 50 161n8, 181
Violent intra-state conflicts, 73 World recession, 30
Violent non-state actors, 195
Voices, 81–83, 100, 101,
115, 155 Y
Young, C., 22, 36n6
Young, R. J. C., 95–96
Young, T., 63
W Youth empowerment, 181–183
Waldorf, L., 94 Youth exclusion, 133, 181
War, 1, 5, 30, 31, 34–35, 39, 42, 43, Youth leaders, 154, 171, 184, 186,
45, 51, 57, 59, 71, 72, 76, 98, 99, 189n3, 189n4, 190n5, 190n7,
100, 105, 124, 134, 149, 195, 197
179–189 Youths, 7, 91, 131–134, 137, 139,
Warlords, 54, 114 142n6, 151, 163n13, 180–188,
War victims, 150, 160n5, 171, 172 190n5, 190n7, 193, 199
Welfare, 5, 11, 19, 43, 49, 50, 58, 59, rural, 7, 133, 180
74, 78, 83–84, 86, 99, 107, 112, Youths and chiefdom
114, 132, 151–156, 159, 193, authorities, 183–188
196, 201n8, 203, 205
West Africa, 13, 14, 16, 51–52, 129,
134, 135, 182 Z
Western liberal democracies, Zaire, 30–31, 37n13
73, 167 Zimbabwe, 12, 22, 23, 36n7,
Williams, D., 62, 63, 65 90, 103n3

Liberal Peace and Post-Conflict

Uploaded by

Document Information

Copyright

Available Formats

Share this document

Share or Embed Document

Sharing Options

Did you find this document useful?

Is this content inappropriate?

Copyright:

Available Formats

Liberal Peace and Post-Conflict

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

Rethinking Peace and Conﬂict

More information about this series at

Rethinking Peace and Conﬂict Studies

© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s) 2017

Cover illustration: © Cultura Creative (RF) / Alamy Stock Photo

Printed on acid-free paper

This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by Springer Nature

Some of the material in this book was published in ‘A “Post-liberal

2 Africa Before, During and After Colonial Rule 9

3 Peacebuilding, Statebuilding and Liberal Peace 39

4 The Liberal Peace in Question 71

5 Power, Resistance and Hybridity in International

6 The Struggle for Sierra Leone 119

7 Building a liberal Peace in Post-Conﬂict Sierra Leone 143

8 Local NGOs and Autonomous Maneuvering 165

9 Youth-Traditional Authorities’ Relations in Post-War

10 In Search for Emancipatory Hybridity in Sierra Leone 191

ACPACS The Australian Centre for Peace and Conﬂict Studies

Le Leones (Currency of Sierra Leone)

© The Author(s) 2017 1

aggressive powerful states. This also saw an ideological turn in relation to

The emergence of scholarship focusing on the ‘local’, in recent years,

THE AIMS OF THE BOOK

from those that result in people accommodating themselves to their

THE STRUCTURE OF THE BOOK

project’ of social transformation, thought to be essential for creating

public goods or introduce policies aimed at improving the quality of life

Africa Before, During and After Colonial Rule

© The Author(s) 2017 9

without referring to pre-colonial forms of political and social organiza-

AFRICA’S PAST MATTERS

undermine their role in helping create conditions for a durable peace in a

particular interest is the resurgence of traditional authority in post-con-

EUROPEAN REPRESENTATIONS OF AFRICA

history and culture. Africa proper, according to Hegel, had no history:

INDIGENOUS AFRICAN POLITICAL ORGANIZATION

even today) as well as played a signiﬁcant role in the maintenance of social

The third type comprises of societies with no centralized political

CHECKS AGAINST THE ABUSE OF POWER

COLONIAL RULE AND STATE POWER

partitioning was done in an arbitrary manner to the extent that a number of

The principles of the French Revolution which had emancipated Europe

[ . . . ] even though the British system of government, for instance, was

Governance through hierarchies of personal power was a pervasive mode of

authorities room and opportunity to modify policies from the center in

COLONIAL INHERITANCE AND POST-COLONIAL

armed struggle against the settler regime condemned and labeled

1. To promote the unity and solidarity of the African States;

5. To promote international cooperation, having due regard to the

nation-statism that resulted from the nationalism in Africa ‘looked like a

As such, at independence many, if not all, African states attained inter-

society were subjected to repression. In response to the Western critics of

It is generally agreed that states should create political institutions that

Neo-Patrimonial and Clientelistic Politics

who collaborated with the West to eliminate Patrice Lumumba, Zaire’s

In 1979, the African Governors of the World Bank requested the

Structural adjustment was intended as an assault on inefﬁciency, waste and

Unfortunately, in Africa SAPs failed to attain their stated objectives. SAPs

In response, in many parts of Africa, ordinary Africans waged anti-SAPs

Intrastate Conﬂicts in the Post-Cold War Period

in the developing world posed a big challenge to the UN’s traditional

homogenous; however, in that heterogeneity there are some common

© The Author(s) 2017 39

putting more emphasis on statebuilding. These attacks had been attribu-