Thanks to DIG IN DIP and Sharon Singer http://digindip.com/2013/03/31/5-things-diplomats-should-avoid-on-facebook/#!
March 31, 2013
Successful diplomats often become mini celebrities in the communities they serve. In addition to promoting their country’s interests and conducting diplomatic efforts using social media platforms, diplomats, being human, have their own personal Facebook, LinkedIn and Instagram accounts.
Senior diplomats often have a fan page, managed by embassy or consulate staff,
Obama Rejects Wearing Mickey Ears. Click on pic for full story
and for the most part, the fan pages or official twitter account act as another channel to amplify their country’s voice.
But for those managing their own personal accounts, the challenges are even greater.
Not to mention the hired employees serving their diplomatic mission who at times, forget that although it is their personal account and they are not the diplomats, it is public and their posts have an effect on the mission’s overall online presence.
A quick scan of junior diplomats and hired staff accounts reveals that they are not all aware that comments or opinions they would never express publicly in person should most definitely not be visible to all on Facebook.
Diplomats are human and as humans, they wish to share their thoughts and experiences with their families on the other side of the world.
Here are 5 recommendations based on a what I found in senior, junior and diplomatic staff I have been monitoring for the purpose of this post:
1. Keep your account public but make your personal pictures private or limited to family and close friends.
2. Do not like or comment on local politicians pages. This should be a given. Your professional account may certainly follow politicians as long as you follow all candidates equality and refrain from commenting, since this can and will be interpreted as showing active involvement in local politics.
3. As hard as it may be, avoid posting statements about your own country’s political figures, especially during election season, a time when the rest of the world may be taking a closer look at what is happening in your country.
4. If you are one of those diplomats who rightfully take advantage of being in new surroundings and enjoy spending your free time traveling, by all means, don’t hesitate to share your experiences, but be wise. You do not want to come across as ‘all fun and no work’ (sponsored by public funds).
5. It is truly wonderful to have a friendly working environment at your offices, but a line must be drawn somewhere and it better be Clear on Facebook. A trail of comments made by embassy staff and local community members on a diplomat’s photo wearing Mickey Mouse ears in Disney World from simply cute to absolutely ridiculous. Not to mention the long term managerial challenges you will face upon your return from your lovely vacation.
The best way to approach this all relies heavily on common sense and the constant thought that should always echo in your mind when representing something greater than yourself:
WOULD I ALLOW MYSELF TO BEHAVE THIS WAY OFFLINE?
The answer, multiplied by the combined sum of friends and followers on your personal and professional accounts should be enough to keep you from embarrassing yourself, your mission and your country.
[ct_toggle title=”About the Author”] About Dig in Dip Digging Deep into the challenges of the world of Digital Diplomacy sharon singer deputy managing director of new family, former director of public affairs and socail media at the israeli consulate in philadelphia. Social media guru Sharon Singer Photo by: Louiz Green Though there is yet an official definition or the term Digital Diplomacy, the challenges in conduction effective public diplomacy via social networks imposed on organizations and governments are clear and are constantly revealing themselves further on a daily basis. In this blog, I will attempt to map out these challenges, study cases, propose solutions and give tips based on my experiences in this fascinating growing field of study and practice. My name is Sharon Singer. As the Director of Public Diplomacy at the Consulate General of Israel to the Mid-Atlantic Region, I specialized in strategizing and conducting the mission’s diplomacy and outreach efforts utilizing social media. I traveled across the USA consulting organizations and speaking on numerous college campuses about digital diplomacy, social media and more. I have trained marketing professionals in various organizations and consulted companies seeking to improve their brand’s online reputation. Prior to that, I served as the Chief Training Officer of the IDF (Israel Defense Force) Foreign Relations and Strategic Planning Division as well as Head of the Operations Desk at the IDF’s Spokesperson’s Division, ending a 9 year military career at the rank of Major. I studied advertising in Tel Aviv where I live and work today as an independent social media marketing and PR consultant, specializing in digital diplomacy and place positioning. [/ct_toggle]
In recent years, Shimon Peres has branded himself as an innovation evangelist, promoting his country’s creativity and backing ideas and technological solutions geared to make the world a better place.
The 90 year old statesman is somehow always ahead of his time. Quite an impressive achievement since his time spans over an almost 70 year political career during which most of the population of the world was born.
After his massive “Be My Friend on Facebook” campaign, that successfully danced around the presidency’s marketing laws and ethics, President Peres is now encouraging people to ask him questions in a special Facebook tab, promissing that the most “liked” questions will be answered via Youtube.
The campaign was launched yesterday (October 14), and has so far reached 150 comments, 160 shares and some media attention.
Wanna have a go at asking Peres some questions? Click here and let me know if he actually answered you back!
Filed under Apps, Dos Don’ts/ ROI Tagged with best instagram accounts, Demitry Medvedev, digital diplomacy, heads of state on instagram, instagram, selfiegate, social media
Last Updated, Sunday, Jan. 19 | Several Twitter accounts used by the military wing of Hamas have been suspended by the social network in recent days, angering the Islamist militants and delighting Israel’s military.
#Twitter has suspended the official account of #Hamas, a terrorist group that uses social media to threaten #Israel http://t.co/g1UxKc9fpf
As The Lede reported in late 2012 during Israel’s military offensive in Gaza, the blockaded Palestinian territory ruled by Hamas, the Islamist militants used their now-suspended @AlqassamBrigade Twitter account to reply directly to messages from @IDFSpokesperson, the official account of the Israel Defense Forces.
Although those exchanges of insults and threats have disappeared from the social network with the suspension of that account and at least two more used by the militants, the Israeli journalist Noam Sheizaf preserved a screenshot of one interaction that was posted on Twitter even as the two sides also traded rocket fire.
At the time, the online banter between the two enemies’ social-media teams led other Twitter users to suggest the warring parties might consider using the virtual space for peacebuilding.
@AlqassamBrigade @IDFSpokesperson you guys should just chat some more, post some pictures of cats at each other, maybe you’ll get along
The warring sides, however, clearly took the rhetorical exchange much more seriously, and the banter continued until recently, as a cached dialogue from October between the militants and Peter Lerner, a British-Israeli spokesman for the military, suggested.
A screenshot of a Twitter exchange between an Israeli military spokesman and the military wing of Hamas on October 22, 2013.
Twitter’s policy on abusive behavior states that “Users may not make direct, specific threats of violence against others.” A statement from the Israel Defense Forcesnoted that Twitter’s terms of service say that the platform is not open to “a person barred from receiving services under the laws of the United States or other applicable jurisdiction.” Hamas has been on the State Department’s list of foreign terrorist organizations since 1997.
A Twitter spokeswoman told The Lede in an email that the company does not comment on individual accounts “for security and privacy reasons,” but pointed to a page of Twitter Rules that “outline content boundaries on the platform.” Violations of those rules, the company explains, can lead to accounts being suspended or deleted.
While suspended accounts can be reactivated, deleted accounts are removed and the username becomes available to the public once again. The @AlqassamBrigade account has been suspended, not deleted, along with two new accounts with similar names that were apparently set up by the militants this week before quickly being shut down by the social network.
Using a fourth account, @qasambrigade, that was still operating when this post was originally published — but suspended later on Friday — the militants blamed Israel for the disappearance of their accounts and promised to continue using the platform to broadcast their message.
A screenshot of a message posted on Twitter by the armed wing of Hamas before the account was suspended on Friday.
A screenshot of a message posted on Twitter this week by the armed wing of Hamas before the account was suspended.
Israel’s military celebrated the effort to remove Hamas from the battlefield of Twitter the same week that virtual Mideast hostilities moved to a new frontier, when the acrimonious dispute over Ariel Sharon’s legacy raged on a section of the website Buzzfeed. A tribute to the late Israeli leader, written by a pro-Israel group, was posted on the site’s community platform on Tuesday under the headline, “9 Ways Ariel Sharon Earned The Nickname ‘Arik, King Of Israel.’” Although it was viewed only 1,600 times by the end of the week, critics of Mr. Sharon quickly attacked the effort to burnish his image in outraged comments.
The post celebrated Mr. Sharon’s career as a warrior in the site’s vernacular, with a list of achievements illustrated by clips from popular films and viral videos repurposed as animated GIFs. Among the items that left supporters of the Palestinian cause shaking their heads was the fifth entry, headlined “Sharon Was Directly Responsible for Creating the [sic] Israel’s First Dedicated Special Forces Unit.” That part of the post likened the work of Mr. Sharon’s Unit 101, held responsible for killing dozens of Palestinian civilians in the 1950s, to that of the Nazi hunters in Quentin Tarantino’s film fantasy “Inglorious Basterds.”
The GIF used to illustrate the section of the Buzzfeed post on Unit 101 was made from a scene in Mr. Tarantino’s movie in which the anti-Nazi unit’s commander, played by Brad Pitt, addresses a group of Jewish-American soldiers recruited to kill German officers.
According to the text posted on Buzzfeed by The Israel Project, an American advocacy organization run by a former Aipac spokesman, the story of Unit 101’s work was a simple one: “Tasked with curbing terrorist activities in the early 1950s, it was the only unit at the time to receive orders directly from the I.D.F. general staff. Needless to say, the unit was a success.”
An examination of the historical record, however, shows that the reputation of Mr. Sharon’s commandos, who carried out raids in retaliation for Palestinian attacks, was much more complex.
As Haaretz reported this week, Unit 101, established in 1953 under Mr. Sharon’s command, “engaged in several controversial actions such as the attack on the Jordanian village of Qibya, in which innocent people were killed and which drew worldwide condemnation.”
In October, 1953, Mr. Sharon’s unit launched a covert attack on the West Bank village of Qibya — then under Jordanian rule — in retaliation for a raid by Palestinian militants who came from a different area. An assessment by Jordanian forces concluded that the commandos had killed 69 Palestinians, including women and children sheltering in homes that were blown up as part of the mission.
When the killing of civilians on this scale led to harsh criticism of Israel, even by its allies, Israeli officials initially lied about the raid, denying that any military operation had taken place and blaming it on enraged Holocaust survivors, as the diaries of Moshe Sharett, Israel’s foreign minister at the time, later revealed.
In his own later account, Mr. Sharon insisted that the deaths had been accidental and his soldiers were unaware that anyone was left in the dozens of homes they blew up in Qibya. However, the Israeli historian Benny Morris later obtained and published the written orders to Mr. Sharon from his superiors in the I.D.F. command. Those orders clearly defined the aims of the mission as “maximal killing and property damage in order to chase inhabitants of the village from their houses.”
Robert Mackey also remixes the news on Twitter @robertmackey.
A long New Yorkerprofile of President Obama provides a great deal of insight into how the president and his administration view the undeniable expansion of jihadist groups claiming allegiance to al Qaeda. “The analogy we use around here sometimes, and I think is accurate, is if a JV team puts on Lakers uniforms that doesn’t make them Kobe Bryant,” President Obama said, distinguishing between groups that are “actively planning major terrorist plots against the homeland” and those who are “engaged in various local power struggles and disputes.”
Obama’s distinction goes to the heart of several current, often heated, debates about the al Qaeda network, including the question of whether the jihadist group had a hand in the notorious Benghazi consulate attack that killed U.S. Ambassador Christopher Stevens. Obama’s minimalist conception of al Qaeda is rather widely held. Under this view, al Qaeda is relatively small, and groups that have taken up its mantle but aren’t engaged in active plots against the United States cannot really be considered al Qaeda. But there is also a competing view, in which the senior leadership plays a more powerful role within the network, and al Qaeda may be broader than just the recognized affiliates.
It is worth understanding the competing minimalist and expansive conceptions of al Qaeda, because how we understand the group fundamentally relates to what policies the U.S. enacts to counter it. Though the minimalist view has been widely portrayed as more nuanced than the expansive one, that is mistaken.
The Minimalist View of Al Qaeda
Obama’s position, the minimalist conception, holds that al Qaeda should be understood as the group’s senior leadership and recognized affiliates who have had an oath of allegiance to that leadership publicly accepted. An example of this dynamic is when Somali militant group al-Shabaab became part of al Qaeda in February 2012: this was personally announced by al Qaeda emir Ayman al-Zawahiri. Some more forceful iterations of this argument hold that even the regional affiliates should not be considered al Qaeda because only the group’s senior leadership has a truly global agenda.
Those with the minimalist understanding generally believe that al Qaeda’s core has trouble controlling even the regional affiliates. Lack of unity within the network bolsters this position, including, for example, the obvious tensions between al Qaeda’s senior leadership and the Islamic State of Iraq and al-Sham (ISIS), which is warring against fellow jihadists in Syria. Because this view sees al Qaeda as more a brand than a hierarchical organization, it often only sees a group as al Qaeda if it is planning an attack against the United States.
To understand the prevalence (though perhaps not dominance) of this conception of al Qaeda, one can look to a couple of recent news stories. David Kirkpatrick’s New York Timesinvestigative report on Benghazi, which was briefly hailed as the definitive account, concluded that there was “no evidence that al Qaeda or other international terrorist groups had any role in the assault.” Indeed, Kirkpatrick describes Ansar al-Sharia in Benghazi, which spearheaded the consulate attack, as a “purely local extremist organization.” His reporting was praised by many for its nuance.
At the New Yorker, Amy Davidson stated that Kirkpatrick’s report had “a level of complexity to it that, for those deeply invested in various theories about Benghazi, just does not compute.” In other words, to Davidson, Kirkpatrick’s findings possessed richness and shades of grey that would fly right over the heads of partisans attempting to fit his work into simple narratives about al Qaeda and Benghazi. Other commentators struck a similar note, finding that “it’s all but impossible to pinpoint exactly what ‘al-Qaeda’ is these days anyway,” due to the way the term has been thrown around loosely.
Conversely, the Senate Select Committee on Intelligence published a bipartisan report less than three weeks after Kirkpatrick’s article came out holding that “individuals affiliated with terrorist groups, including AQIM [Al Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb], Ansar al-Sharia, AQAP [Al Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula], and the Mohammad Jamal Network, participated in the September 11, 2012, attacks.” ABC News followed up with a report concluding that the SSCI’s findings showed that “these regional al Qaeda affiliates work together better than was believed before Benghazi.” Representing the skepticism that follows such claims, one informed regional observer commented, “‘Affiliate of al Qaeda’ has become a broad term these days.”
The Expansive View of Al Qaeda
The competing, more expansive view of al Qaeda holds that the network is broader than just its core and affiliates. The expansive version holds that al-Qaeda may in fact have taken on unacknowledged affiliates during the Arab Spring: after all, the large cache of documents captured from Osama bin Laden’s Pakistan hideout establishes that the jihadist leader wanted to rebrand the organization. Under the expansive view, the various Ansar al-Sharia groups that suddenly sprung up in the Arab Spring environment—claiming that they subscribed to al Qaeda’s ideology yet maintained organizational independence—may in fact be part of al Qaeda.
The notion that these groups might actually be al Qaeda is illustrated by Ansar al-Sharia in Tunisia (AST). A year or two ago, most observers would have considered AST “purely local,” in Kirkpatrick’s words.
To be sure, there were reasons to suspect from the time of AST’s birth that it might be more than local. Its leader, Abu Iyadh al-Tunisi, had longstanding jihadist credentials as well as specific connections to al Qaeda. Among other things, while living in Taliban-run Afghanistan in 2000, Abu Iyadh founded the Tunisian Combatant Group (TCG), which facilitated the assassination of Northern Alliance leader Ahmad Shah Massoud in Afghanistan just before al-Qaeda executed the 9/11 attacks; and in 2002 the United Nations designated TCG an al Qaeda associated organization. Other AST members, such as Sami bin Khamis Essid and Mehdi Kammoun, had been an important part of al Qaeda’s network in Italy.
Over time, growing evidence suggested connections between AST and al Qaeda’s North African affiliate, Al Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb (AQIM). Tunisian authorities alleged in December 2012 that the Uqba ibn Nafi Brigade, a militant group operating between Algeria and Tunisia that engaged in frequent combat with Tunisian authorities at the border, linked AQIM to AST operationally.
The following year, after AST allegedly assassinated two secular politicians, the Tunisian government officially designated the group a terrorist organization and issued a ban against it. Tunisia also released new information connecting AST to AQIM. This included allegations that AST emir Abu Iyadh al-Tunisi and AQIM leader Abu Musab Abdel Wadoud had signed a handwritten “Allegiance Act,” and that Abu Iyadh had made “an oath of allegiance to an Algerian emir” (likely Abdel Wadoud). Tunisian sources further claimed that AST’s funding came from al Qaeda financiers. When the U.S. State Department designated AST on January 10, 2014, it described the group as “ideologically aligned with al Qaeda and tied to its affiliates, including AQIM.”
This progression of evidence demonstrates a great deal. AST was initially understood as local despite its leader’s international connections. Over time, evidence began to suggest some operational connection to AQIM, though the precise contours weren’t clear. Both Tunisia and the U.S. have made clear that their intelligence suggests the initial descriptions of AST as purely local were inaccurate. Indeed, if Tunisia’s information is right—including Abu Iyadh al-Tunisi taking a formal oath of allegiance to AQIM’s emir, and AST receiving funding from al Qaeda—that strongly suggests that AST was in fact an actual part of al Qaeda.
So What is Al Qaeda?
Some analysts are skeptical of claims that AST can actually be considered al Qaeda because they doubt the Tunisian authorities’ information. Whether or not they are right is a factual rather than philosophical question.
Similarly, whether other groups like Ansar al-Sharia in Benghazi can be considered part of al Qaeda is a factual question. While unsophisticated analyses can be found on both sides of this debate, knowledgeable analysts who categorize these groups as likely part of al Qaeda’s network believe that—as with AST—the evidence points toward hidden arrangements with either al Qaeda’s affiliates or directly with its senior leadership.
It is, of course, possible that analysts with a more expansive view of al Qaeda are wrong on the facts. But it is harmful to debate, and in fact dishonest, when prestigious outlets like the New Yorker declare one vision of al Qaeda to be inherently more complex and nuanced. Such characterizations only obscure the fact that there are real differences in interpretations of fact, and that there are actual answers to these factual questions.
So maybe those guys in Lakers jerseys are in fact a JV team. But if they beat the Miami Heat the next time out, we should consider the possibility that they’re an actual NBA franchise.
I first got a glimpse of Hawaiian public diplomacy a few years ago at the Taipei Flora Expo in 2011. Following a stint in Taiwan as a Visiting Fellow at a thinktank researching Taiwanese public diplomacy, I stopped in the Expo, which featured different countries exhibiting and showcasing their unique flora.
There were different large-scale pavilions from countries all over the world, with one exception: there was a pavilion of the unique flora from Hawaii, separate from the pavilion for mainland United States.
There is an international relations concept called “paradiplomacy.” Paradiplomacy is the action of sub-national actors such as states or regions conducting diplomacy and public diplomacy.
Diplomacy is different than public diplomacy. Diplomacy involves high-level interactions between governments; public diplomacy is how nations, and nongovernmental organizations, communicate policy, culture or values to foreign publics.
Diplomacy and public diplomacy are often the antithesis of each other in scope and direction. Unlike diplomacy’s narrower high-level connections, public diplomacy seeks to reach wider foreign audiences–often through cultural diplomacy. Cultural diplomacy offers a tangible form of conducting this public diplomacy via the communication of culture through music and food.
I am proud to have helped communicate Hawaiian cultural diplomacy in my role managing the U.S. State Department tour of Hawaiian slack key guitar greats Keola Beamer and Jeff Peterson, with hula master Moanalani Beamer. The ensemble participated in the American Music Abroad 2012-2013 season. The American Music Abroad program is the State Department’s flagship musical diplomacy program, and traces its roots back to the legendary Jazz Ambassadors program.
As part of the tour, the Hawaiian ensemble shared their Aloha as they shared Hawaii’s rich music and culture in Brazil for a 5-week tour. Keola, Moanalani and Jeff toured Brazil from north to south, sharing Hawaii’s unique slack key guitar music and hula dance, as well as educating Brazilians on the ephemeral spirit of Aloha.
These Ambassadors of Aloha performed concerts at theaters, gave masterclasses at music schools, collaborated with local musicians and taught Brazilian students about Hawaiian music and culture. There are few things more beautiful on this planet than the Samba Nation of Brazil learning to hula.
In touring with Keola, Moanalani and Jeff, I learned so much about Hawaii’s history and culture, as I watched them share the spirit of Aloha abroad. More recently, I got to finally visit Hawaii and experience its rich culture firsthand in a trip to Maui.
As states are competing to highlight their own unique state brand, Hawaii has perhaps the most distinctive brand in the United States of America. It has its own distinct style of music, with which much more could be done to promote Hawaiian music abroad.
Hawaii also has its own unique cuisine, which undergirds any good gastrodiplomacy campaign. Gastrodiplomacy is how nations, or states, communicate their distinct culture through their food. Gastrodiplomacy ties fork to flag, and uses restaurants as forward cultural outposts to enhance the edible brand.
While visiting Hawaii, I loved the distinct culinary delights it had to offer, like poke–the raw cubed ahi tuna, octopus and other raw fish delights marinated with soy sauce, sesame oil, kakui nut, sea salt and green onions.
The unique Hawaiian treat that is poke would be a wonderful gastrodiplomacy dish to promote in sushi’s birthplace, Japan. Or in places with sushi culture like Brazil, which has the largest Japanese community outside of Japan, and loves sushi. I could easily picture places like Chile, Mexico or Israel, which love sushi and have recently developed sushi culture, to love the Hawaiian raw fish treat.
Moreover, Hawaii’s fusion of Japanese, Chinese and Korean elements into Hawaiian cuisine could tempt tastes in all such places.
Japan has a deep love of Hawaiian music and culture, especially hula; more pronounced Hawaiian gastrodiplomacy outreach could help further Japan’s love for Hawaiian culture and attract even more Japanese tourist to the islands.
Meanwhile, affluent Chinese are becoming more interested and invested in Hawaii, so it heightens Hawaii’s brand to introduce China more fully to its distinctive cuisine.
This cultural diplomat would like to see more Hawaiian cultural diplomacy outreach to South Korea. Hawaii would do well to share hula with the K-pop world, and feed South Korea’s foodie classes the full flavor of Hawaiian cuisine.
I can easily imagine the Chinese or Koreans loving a plate of the subterranean slow-cooked kalua pork, seasoned with Hawaiian sea salt, shredded and sauted with cabbage.
Also, fried chicken of all varieties is hugely popular in Japan, China and South Korea; all three countries would love the island-style mochiko chicken– a dish of boneless chicken thighs, dipped in sweet rice flour batter and deep fried golden.
Hawaii is also in a unique position to conduct gastrodiplomacy domestically. While Hawaiian cuisine might be somewhat known on the West Coast, in America’s Southwest, Mid-West or East Coast, it is still somewhat foreign and exotic.
Hawaiian gastrodiplomacy in the form of introducing poke in sushi hubs like Los Angeles, New York and other American cities could be gastrodiplomacy gold for Hawaii. Meanwhile, lomilomi–salted salmon tossed with chopped tomatoes and green and white onions, could be the best accoutrement for a tasty version of a Hawaiian bagel.
Hawaii has already shown itself to be conducting instances of paradiplomacy at international expositions, as well as possessing Hawaiian tourism offices abroad. I have seen firsthand how successful Hawaiian music and culture can be in cultural diplomacy outreach.
The State of Hawaii could be a real pioneer in paradiplomacy by taking on a more active public diplomacy role in promoting Hawaii’s music, food and culture abroad–as well as domestically.
Blessed already with a positive–if not fully known–brand, Hawaii is a case of a sub-national actor that could really increase its international and domestic brand status with Aloha Diplomacy–a more robust public diplomacy outreach through cultural and culinary diplomacy.
The Middle East region has probably suffered more rivalry and conflict than any other part of the world. The 1948 Arab-Israeli war was the first instance of a bloody and hostile battle, triggered by the declaration of Israel’s independence on 14 May 1948 (Schulze 1999, p. 13). The 1948 war was caused by a number of ‘international and intraregional factors’ intertwining to create a complex situation and catalyst for war (Hurewitz 1952, p. 73). The war resulted in Israel’s victory, yet had significant consequences on not only regional politics of this area, but also international relations, which are still visible today. It is a highly complex and intricate topic which has been subject to great historiographical debate (Schulze 1999, p. 17). This essay will discuss three key causes: Zionism, Arab nationalism and British foreign policy, and four important consequences: the loss of life, the problem of Palestinian refugees, Arab divisions and territory changes.
These historic two movements of Arab nationalism and Zionism had been building up significantly since the nineteenth century with the aims of achieving ‘emancipation and self-determination’, both evolving around ‘the concepts of identity, nationhood, history, religion and culture’ (Schulze 1999, p. 1). The Classic Zionist idea originated in the ‘deep-rooted biblical tradition’ in the idea of a proclaimed ‘land of Israel’ where Jewish independence would be restored (Cohen 1987, p. 33). However, it was within the context of centuries of European anti-Semitism and persecution that modern political Zionism arose. The ‘ideological foundation’ was based on the following: ‘the Jewish people constituted a nation and this nationhood needed to be affirmed; assimilation was rejected’ as it was neither desirable nor possible. Furthermore the idea that anti-Semitism could ‘only be overcome by physical separation from Europe and by self-determination’ made Zionism popular (Schulze 1999, p. 1). The ‘religious and cultural ties to the Land of Israel made Palestine the logical territorial claim’ and was perceived as the ‘only viable and permanent solution to the problem of the Jews’ (Schulze 1999, p. 2). Therefore Zionism promoted the belief that Jews were entitled to Palestine and fuelled their zeal in pursuing their fight and struggle to have self-determination. Moreover, the holocaust in Europe ‘generated a renewed and intense determination’ to create a Jewish state (Bell 2001, p. 171). Without Zionism, Arab-Israeli conflicts may never have occurred as the Jews perhaps would have had no desire to create a Jewish state, or at least not enough organisation and support to do so.
Arab nationalism, on the other hand, was born out of the shared language, religion (Islam) and history of the Middle East region and therefore Arab nationalists ‘aspired to political co-operation’ through the Arab League (Bell 2001, p. 176). Modern Arab nationalism arose at the end of the eighteenth century, partly as opposition to European colonialism, which they believed was ‘superfluous in its attainment’ (Schulze 1999, pp. 2-3). The Arabs often perceived western rulers to be pro-Israel. To Arab nationalist radicals, Israel was not just an enemy because of the ‘injustice against their brethren in Palestine’, but also because of its ‘close association with what it perceived as Western imperialist aspirations towards the region’, particularly in regard to oil reserves (Hinchcliffe et al. 2001, p. 13). As a result of this, when the United Nations General Assembly passed a resolution calling for the establishment of a Jewish state, this confirmed their criticisms and suspicions of the West. Arab leaders did not understand why they should have to suffer as a result the holocaust (Bell 2001, p. 172). Therefore Arab nationalism was an important cause of the 1948 war as it gave Arab nations a common enemy, enabling them to unite and fight against not only Zionism, but also western power. It can even be argued that the Arabs worsened the situation by boycotting The United Nations Special Committee for Palestine (UNSCOP). This was intended to consider the views of both Arabs and Jews in the area, and tried to improve tensions (Schulze 1999, p. 11).
Another arguable cause of the 1948 Arab-Israeli war is the impact of British foreign policy and consequently United Nations’ (UN) policy regarding the Middle East. After the First World War, both sides (Zionists and Arab nationalists) ‘believed Palestine had been promised to them’ by the British (Schulze 1999, p. 5). Therefore there were already inconsistencies in British policy as neither side knew where they stood. After the Second World War, Britain held the mandate for Palestine. However the circumstances were ‘utterly transformed by the massacre of European Jews by Nazi Germany’. Due to the ‘wave of sympathy’ felt towards the persecuted Jews of Europe along with the sense of responsibility, ‘Britain came under increasing pressure to permit Jewish immigration into Palestine’, especially from America (Bell 2001, p. 171). The British were in an impossible situation, caught between two conflicting but understandable viewpoints. Therefore they decided to hand the problem over to the UN and withdrew from Palestine in 1948. The UN established a Special Committee for Palestine (UNSCOP), which came to the same conclusion as previous commissions: that the Jewish and Arab claims were of ‘equal validity’ and that ‘the only viable solution to the conflict was the separation of the two communities’ (Schulze 1999, p. 11). Therefore UNSCOP drew up the Partition Plan. However, this was naturally problematic, and as a result, both Jews and Arabs ‘started to arm themselves’ (Schulze 1999, p. 12). Palestinians rejected the UN partition plan, arguing that it was ‘inherently biased and ignored the legitimate rights of Palestinians’ (Hinchcliffe et al. 2001, p. 11).
There have been several major consequences of the 1948 Arab-Israeli war. One main obvious consequence was of course the destruction and loss of life. Not only was there the loss of life from soldiers in both sides, but also innocents were murdered. For example, the Deir Yassin massacre witnessed the death of 245 men, women and children. Moreover, the same month, the Arabs retaliated, killing 77 mainly Jewish doctors and nurses (Ovendale 1999, p. 135).
Another major consequence of the Arab-Israeli war of 1948 was the problem of Palestinian refugees. By the end of the war, the UN estimated that the total refugee population by June 1949 was 940,000 from 369 Palestinian towns and villages. However there are disputes over how many Palestinians actually left, as sources vary (Schulze 1999, p. 16). Regardless of the exact number, the truth remains that there was a significant number of Palestinians who were left homeless as a result of the war. It is the solution to this problem which caused further dispute between Arabs and Jews. The Jewish argument was that Palestinians should be integrated into the Arab states, whereas the Arabs argued that refugees should be able to return to their rightful homes (Schulze 1999, p. 16).
The Arab defeat also had significant consequences. Firstly it demonstrated the lack of united aims and cooperation between the so-called Arab League. The Arab governments ‘all pursued their own objectives’, with King Abdullah of Transjordan willing to accept a Jewish state in return for territorial gains. Therefore the Arab states were divided, with Palestine playing a fairly passive role (Bell 2001, p. 174). However, most significantly, the Arab defeat had ‘important domestic repercussions’. It ‘de-legitimised the existing leadership, leading to revolutions, military coups and instability’ (Schulze 1999, p. 15). For example in Syria, the 1948 defeat was a ‘great tragedy’ and a ‘personal failure’ considered a ‘national calamity’ (Freedman 1979, p. 259). This had an impact on future wars.
Another consequence of the Arab-Israeli war was the territory changes. For Israel this was arguably positive, having increased its territory by 21 per cent in comparison to the partition resolution boundaries. Contrarily, this could also be viewed as negative as it increased hostility from the Arabs who believed Israel should have no land whatsoever. The Arab states increased their territory, with Transjordan gaining the West Bank and Egypt gaining the Gaza strip. This all proves that the Arabs also had the intention of expanding their power and territory. Palestine, however, ‘lost any possibility of a state of their own’ due to the acquisition of land of the Arabs or Israel (Schulze 1999, p.15). To this day, ‘partition remains controversial among Palestinians’. It has been considered that the Palestinians have undergone ‘extraordinary change since 1948’ having been transformed into a ‘mobile people’ (Freedman 1979, p. 218).
To summarise, having analysed Zionism, Arab nationalism and British foreign policy as three key causes of the 1948 Arab-Israeli war, as well as three major consequences of the war, this essay can conclude that the 1948 Arab-Israeli war was a highly complex conflict with its origins going as far back as biblical times. The impacts of the First and Second World War contributed to the foreign policy of the British in handing over the Palestine Mandate to the UN, which consequently resulted in the declaration of independence for Israel. It was this declaration which created uproar amongst Jews and Arabs alike, and instigated the war. The consequences of this war have been catastrophic in shaping Middle Eastern politics even until today. Hinchcliffe states that ‘while major military confrontation between Israel and its Arab neighbours’ has not occurred since 1982, the ‘absence of meaningful peace’ has continued to the end of the century (Hinchcliffe 2001, p. 9).
Bibliography
Bell, P. M. H. (2001) The World Since 1945 – An International History, London: Bloomsbury Publishing Plc.
Cohen, M. J. (1987) The Origins and Evolution of the Arab-Israeli Conflict, London: University of California Press Ltd.
Fraser, T. G. (1980) The Middle East 1914-1979, Documents of Modern History, London: Edward Arnold Publishers Ltd.
Freedman, R. O. (ed) (1979) World Politics and the Arab-Israeli Conflict, Oxford: Pergamon Press Inc.
Hurewitz, J. C. (1952) ‘Arab-Israel Tensions’, Proceedings of the Academy of Political Science, 24:4, pp. 73-81
Milton-Edwards, B. and Hinchcliffe, P. (2001) Conflicts in the Middle-East since 1945, London: Routledge
O’Ballance, E. (1957) ‘The Arab-Israeli War, 1948’, Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science, [Review by Duker, A. G.] 313, pp. 175-176
Ovendale, R. (ed) (1999) The Origins of the Arab-Israeli Wars, Harlow: Pearson Education Ltd.
Schulze, K. E. (1999) The Arab-Israeli Conflict, Harlow: Pearson Education Ltd.
Young, J. W. and Kent, J. (ed) (2013) International relations since 1945, Oxford: Oxford University Press.
—
Written by: Selina Kaur Rai Written at: University of Leicester Written for: Professor Mark Phythian Written: 11/2013
Writing in 1965 on the continued underdevelopment of the newly-independent states of Sub-Saharan Africa, Ghanaian President Kwame Nkrumah suggested that in place of direct imperial rule a new and more insidious mode of control was becoming established. The essence of this ‘neo-colonialism’, according to Nkrumah, was 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, unpaginated).
Foreign capital, so he argued, was being used for the exploitation of developing world states, and not their betterment, and was therefore only perpetuating the inequalities and injustices of the colonial era. While Nkrumah’s critique was directed at the dominant Western states of the time, modern China’s expansion into Africa over the course of the last two decades – its burgeoning economic and political ties – has led to similar accusations of a “fresh neocolonialism disguised as South-South development” (Servant, 2005). Indeed, in 2006 even the largely supportive South African President Thabo Mbeki made the point of welcoming closer Sino-African relations whilst nonetheless cautioning that a partnership based primarily on the exportation of raw materials and importation of manufactured goods risked only replicating a “colonial relationship” that would see Africa “condemned to underdevelopment” (BBC News, 2006).
In seeking to interrogate assertions that China’s recent involvement in Africa constitutes a further exercising of neo-colonialist exploitation, this paper does so by firstly outlining the contexts of African crisis and Chinese expansionism within which contemporary analysis must be situated. It then moves on to depict how China’s renewed interest in the continent has been manifested, and subsequently provides an analysis of its main effects – using the examples of Angola, Sudan, and Zambia to illustrate particular aspects of contemporary Sino-African relations. It argues that while Chinese involvement in the continent is problematic, it certainly does not merit accusations of neo-colonialism greater than that of other more-established Western actors. It also brings with it some potential for greater socio-economic development, although this depends to a degree on the choices made by African states themselves.
African realities
In order to understand the continent’s apparent susceptibility to various forms of economic and political exploitation, we must first look briefly – and in admittedly oversimplified terms – to the nature of African state formation since the colonial era. Contemporary state borders obviously derive from the partition of the continent by the European imperial powers during the late nineteenth century, and are widely acknowledged as being tailored to suit the political and economic needs of the metropole regardless of indigenous demographic, ethnographic, or topographic rationality (Herbst, 1989). Typically, a minimalist imperial administration was thereby constructed within, co-opting only a small local elite and geared towards the extraction of natural resources and other strategic goals of the respective colonial powers (Thompson, 2010: 16-22). On independence, few states therefore possessed the requisite attributes of traditional empirical sovereignty – instead being so-called ‘quasi-states’ that possessed governments “deficient in the political will, institutional authority, and organized power to protect human rights or provide socio-economic welfare” (Jackson, 1993: 21). Newly-established African elites therefore largely resorted to neo-patrimonial forms of rule – a hybrid of clientelism and patronage behind a bureaucratic-rational façade – in order to accrue state power and provide for limited domestic order and societal cohesion (Englebert, 2000). Militating against broad-based national development[1], this was often buttressed by a policy of ‘extraversion’ in which the economic resources and political support of external actors were further appropriated in order to maintain internal control (Clapham, 2008).
African agency has, of course, interacted with various structural constraints on development: small domestic markets, lack of access to maritime trade, ethnic heterogeneity, and adverse geographical endowments being among the most prominently cited (Sachs et al., 2004; Collier, 2008). Externally, economic diversification was also inhibited by a continued reliance on the export of primary commodities, itself often inducing a ‘resource curse’, that has only been exacerbated by shifts within the global economy since the 1970s (Arrighi, 2002). Here, falling commodity prices and a resultant debt crisis led to the imposition of neoliberal structural adjustment programmes by Western donor states and international financial institutions (IFIs). Parallel to this, Asian states’ capture of the manufacturing sector, and continued barriers to developed world trade, contributed further to African states’ development failures (Melamed, 2006). The crisis of the late 1970s therefore presaged a decline in living standards and economic stagnation that was portrayed as an ‘African tragedy’ by the 1990s (Arrighi, 2002). Alongside this, and with the end of the Cold War removing the Soviet Union as an alternate source of external support, the conditionalities of Western aid came to include an emphasis on political as well as economic liberalization that has threatened African elites’ hold on power (Lynch Crawford, 2011).
Obviously this is a rather broad-brush generalisation of the continent’s varying experiences, but it does serve to demonstrate the numerous factors that accurate critical analysis must take into account: the complexities of African states and societies which engender underdevelopment and exploitation, and the pre-existing politico-economic structures within which Chinese actors are necessarily both constrained and able to exercise influence.
Chinese motivations
Without an imperial heritage in Africa akin to the Western colonial model, modern Chinese involvement on the continent dates from the late 1950s and was originally based on both communist ideological motivations of revolutionary Cold War solidarity and the shared experience of Western imperial exploitation (Alden Alves, 2008). These largely amicable Sino-African relations dwindled in the late 1970s, with Africa viewed as increasingly marginal to post-Mao era Chinese interests of market-led modernization and rapprochement with the West and the Soviet Union (Taylor, 2009: 13-16). However, after Western reaction to the Tiananmen Square massacre and the unravelling of the Cold War, Chinese foreign policy gravitated further toward the developing world once again. Closer alignment with African elites was thus seen as mutually beneficial to the construction of a more hospitable multipolar world order – one with a greater emphasis on state sovereignty and non-interference, the elevation of communitarian socio-economic rights above purportedly ‘Western’ individual human rights, and the promotion of China as an authentic voice of the developing world within multilateral bodies and international fora (ibid.).[2]
Much greater focus, however, has been on the increased economic ties between China and Africa since the 1990s, and two factors are paramount here. Stemming from its distinct state-led model of economic growth, China has developed a substantially greater demand for natural resources to maintain rapid industrialisation, as well as the need for new export markets for its low-cost manufactured goods (Taylor, 2009: 14-15). These imperatives saw China look once again to Africa, viewing the continent – particularly in light of neoliberal restructuring – as an untapped opportunity for both. In contrast to the West, China therefore explicitly rejected the Afro-pessimism that had portrayed an increasingly ‘hopeless continent’ in need of paternalistic enlightenment (The Economist, 2000).
However, focusing narrowly on China’s economic interests risks obscuring the distinct normative framework that it has chosen to construct in its relations with African states. China seeks to differentiate itself from the prescriptive and hierarchical approach of other external actors through an emphasis on political equality and mutual benefit, derived in part from shared historical experience (Alden Large, 2011). This is particularly evident in the discourse and practice of the Forum on China-Africa Cooperation (FOCAC), set up in 2000 as the main framework for collective dialogue[3]. For example, despite the overwhelming differences in power between China and African states, FOCAC’s inaugural declaration recognised all as “developing countries with common fundamental interests” that included “consolidating solidarity… and facilitating the establishment of a new international order” (FOCAC, 2000). China’s 2006 White Paper on African policy similarly outlined a new “strategic partnership… featuring political equality and mutual trust, economic win-win cooperation and cultural exchange”. In stark contrast to intrusive Western conditionalities, it pledged to “respect African countries’ independent choice of the road of development” (FOCAC, 2006).
In tandem with this, China has also placed great store in symbolic diplomacy. It has courted African leaders by holding regular high-level summits, providing extensive state-organised receptions, and arranging numerous visits to the continent by high-ranking Chinese politicians – it has become tradition, for example, that the Chinese foreign minister’s first overseas visit each year is to an African country (Taylor, 2009: 24). These displays of equality and respect, accorded to even the smallest of states, are widely appreciated within Africa and stand in contrast to the more critical and dismissive attitude often adopted by Western countries (ibid.). However, while state-level diplomacy and policy statements have clearly sought to distance China from Western practice both past and present, emphasising instead an equal relationship based on mutual development, it is to the substantive realities ‘on the ground’ in Africa which we now turn.
A closer relationship
While exact figures vary depending on the source, it is clear that after a decade of minimal growth in the 1990s, official trade between China and Africa has witnessed a dramatic increase since 2000 – rising from $10 billion in 2000 to over $100 billion in 2008 (Haugen, 2011). African exports to China and Chinese imports to Africa have each risen from less than 2% of the continent’s total to more than 10%, putting China on course to become Africa’s single largest trading partner within the next few years (African Development Bank, 2010). While this would place it ahead of the USA, mostly an importer of African goods, it is important to note, however, that the relative import and export figures for trade with China are still approximately one-third of the EU-27 totals – although this is steadily declining (ibid.).
Chinese foreign direct investment (FDI) has shown a similar increase over the last two decades, from an estimated $100 million in 2000 to over $1 billion in 2006 (Kaplinsky et al., 2008).Ascertaining the nature and total of Chinese aid provided to Africa is more problematic, given that official figures are not disclosed and aid programmes are difficult to disentangle from China’s wider trade and investment policies (Samy, 2010)[4]. That which arguably qualifies as Overseas Development Assistance – the majority of it tied to Chinese products and expertise – has however apparently increased from $300 million to $1-3 billion per annum over the last decade, putting China on a par with the largest DAC donors (ibid.). The question though remains as to whether this increased trade, investment, and aid is actually beneficial to the continent, or merely repeating past experience.
Disaggregating the overall trade statistics, by country and sector, does begin to suggest the latter. Chinese imports from Africa are concentrated on a handful of states – Angola (34%), South Africa (20%), and Sudan (11%) constituting two-thirds of the continent’s overall total in 2007 (African Development Bank, 2010). Crude oil (70%) and other raw materials (15%) have meanwhile accounted for the overwhelming majority of total exports. Almost 100% of Angola and Sudan’s exports to China are made up of crude oil, for example, while only South Africa has a relatively diversified export profile. Imports from China are somewhat more varied, although concentrated on the regional powerhouses of South Africa and Nigeria, and consist mainly of machinery and transport equipment (38%), manufactured goods (30%), and miscellaneous articles (22%) (ibid.). While Chinese FDI had spread across 48 African countries by 2005, with manufacturing the main focus, recent trends have gravitated toward resource development and an emphasis on South Africa, Angola, and other resource-rich countries (Kaplinsky et al., 2008).
As such, the obvious concern is that while Chinese and African elites have sought to “conceptualise emergent South-South relations as an historic opportunity for Africa’s states to escape the neo-colonial ties to the West” (Tull, 2006: 471), the realities of Sino-African economic relations – themselves shaped by previous neoliberal reforms in both regions – militate against this. Recent developments appear to suggest they will neither alter Africa’s asymmetric integration into the world economy, nor reduce the continent’s dependence on primary commodity exports.
Indeed, the resource curse stemming from continued accrual of rents from oil and other raw materials may reinforce the neo-patrimonialism and extraversion of many African rentier state elites, with ‘enclave economies’ focusing on external markets and contributing little to local employment or wider national development (Taylor, 2010: 135-136). Diversification may be further inhibited by so-called ‘Dutch disease’, as rising currency values make other exports less competitive, whilst the volatility of commodity prices could leave states vulnerable to further boom-and-bust cycles, with price shocks raising debt levels and undermining long-term development plans (Shaxson, 2005).
Despite these potentially malign effects, however, it would be unfair to accuse China of practising a new form of exploitation; rather it is aggravating an existing political economy of resource extraction long practised by the West in collusion with African elites – as still apparent with the likes of France in Gabon and the USA in Equatorial Guinea (Soares de Oliveira, 2008). Over the last decade, Chinese involvement has also contributed to the continent’s renewed economic growth, as increased demand has proceeded in tandem with rising commodity prices (Zafar, 2007)[5]. While this has benefited African resource exporters – although it may conversely lead to increased costs for the continent’s energy importers – the developmental outcomes of increased revenue, as noted above, are dependent to a large degree on the choices of African elites.
Angola, for example, has used the opportunity of increased Chinese trade and investment, including at least $7 billion in low-cost loans, to fund vital post-civil war reconstruction (Corkin, 2011). Without having to submit to the structural reforms required by the IMF or World Bank, however, this alternative has provided the Angolan government with the political space to pursue its own model of ‘illiberal peacebuilding’, de-emphasising civil liberties, rule of law, or economic freedoms, and “with a view to constructing a hegemonic order and an elite stranglehold over the political economy” (Soares de Oliveira, 2011: 288). Scepticism therefore exists over the broader developmental potential for the Angolan people, although significant aid and investment has clearly been successfully used to develop much-needed infrastructure such as railways, schools, hospitals, and housing[6] (Kiala, 2010). Alongside this, the government’s continued diversification of its political and economic relationships – which includes Western oil corporations – does at the least suggest that China’s relationship with Angola, currently its main source of oil imports, is a ‘marriage of convenience’ between elites rather than an explicit form of neo-colonial exploitation (Corkin, 2011).
Critics would, however, offer this as an example of how China’s non-interventionist stance threatens to undermine the various political and economic reforms that not only Western actors but also those within Africa have increasingly sought to pursue since the end of the Cold War (Clapham, 2008). Again, such criticism should be tempered by the fact that Western states and IFIs continue to provide several billion dollars in aid each year to the likes of Cameroon and Ethiopia despite their often dire records on political rights and civil liberties (Brautigam, 2009: 285). That said, while China ostensibly agrees with the likes of the New Partnership for Africa’s Development (NEPAD) – as supported by the African Union, assorted member states, and various civil society groups – it appears to run counter to their statist non-commitments and elite ties (Taylor, 2006). The problem, as Alden and Hughes note, is that “when the non-interference principle is used to justify opacity in dealings with elites, from aid disbursements to business practices, the view becomes more widespread that China is just another power out to exploit the continent” (2009: 569).
The problems and contradictions inherent in China’s statist approach – as any form of interaction inevitably becomes some form of interference – have been particularly apparent in its dealings with Sudan over the last two decades. China has established a close relationship with the Sudanese ruling elite that has effectively enabled their continued and often exceptionally violent oppression of large segments of society (Large, 2008). Although China gradually pursued an ambivalent policy of ‘constructive engagement’ on Darfur, it provided an invaluable source of economic, political and military support to the Sudanese regime during both the civil war in the South and the violence in Darfur, frequently assisting the government in their attempts to resist any form of outside intervention (ibid.). In its desire to maintain a reliable source of oil, China has indirectly but actively sought to sustain a form of political control within Sudan – that of the ruling National Islamic Front – which clearly suits its own narrowly-defined interests.
A more distinctly ambivalent influence has been evident in Zambia, where anti-Chinese rhetoric became a central part of the populist platform of opposition candidate Michael Sata during the 2006 presidential election (Larmer Fraser, 2007). Although unsuccessful in his bid, Sata articulated popular discontent at the negative effects of Chinese trade and investment – the sub-standard working conditions endured by Zambians in Chinese-owned mines[7], widespread use of foreign labour, and the presence of Chinese traders and goods in local markets that have displaced local business. However, this discontent does still exist alongside a widespread recognition of the continued need for Chinese investment, and should be balanced against the positive effects of Chinese involvement in Zambia – as for example in its role of revitalizing the country’s copper industry, providing a limited number of jobs, and rebuilding key infrastructure (Kopinski Polus, 2011).
Zambia also provides one example of the double-edged nature of the surge in Chinese imports. On the one hand, these have been extremely popular as they allow African consumers unprecedented access to low-cost manufactured goods – a notable sign of progress for many (Taylor, 2009: 169). On the other hand, Chinese clothing and textile exports have undermined local African production as they crowd out both domestic and third-country markets – the likes of South Africa and its neighbours have witnessed large-scale unemployment as a result (Zafar, 2007). It should be noted, nonetheless, that not only is this trade often facilitated by African businesspersons themselves, it is also a reflection of the long decline of the continent’s manufacturing sector that began well before the recent increase in Chinese imports (Taylor, 2009: 82-86). Motivated in part to answer criticism of the effects of its export policies, the Chinese government has itself recently promoted several overseas economic cooperation zones, including Chambishi in Zambia, which are indicative of the development potential offered by Chinese investment. Rather than becoming “ghettos of restricted labour rights, full of foreign investors walled off from contact with domestic firms [and] contributing little to a sustainable transition” (Brautigam, 2009: 194), the possible spillover effects of these zones – in the subcontracting of work, providing of skills, and demonstration of good business practice – may have the potential to catalyse local industry and reinvigorate African states’ manufacturing sectors.
Conclusion
Given the diversity of African states, China’s involvement on the continent clearly varies according to local context, and has had to evolve over time to address the interests and perceptions of each party. At present, the Sino-African relationship appears – despite its various manifestations – to be broadly popular both in its own right and in comparison to the West: when asked the explicit question of whether China is practising any form of neo-colonialism, African survey respondents overwhelmingly reject the notion (Sautman Hairong, 2009). China has sought, and with some degree of success, to construct an ‘exceptionalist’ approach toward African states, as based on mutual benefit and political equality, one that differs from the paternalistic and highly conditional approach so often proffered by Western states and IFIs (Alden Large, 2011). However, given the political economy of numerous African states and the nature of Chinese engagement, it remains to be seen whether, in the long term, China will achieve little more than to “insert themselves into an existing bilateral relationship between Africa and the West, converting it into a triangular one” (Clapham, 2008: 367).
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African Development Bank (2010) ‘Chinese Trade and Investment Activities in Africa’, Policy Brief, Volume 1, Issue 4.
Alden, C. (2007) China in Africa. Zed Books: London.
Alden, C. and Alves, A. C. (2008) ‘History and Identity in the Construction of China’s Africa Policy’, Review of African Political Economy, 115, 43-58.
Alden, C. and Hughes, C. R. (2009) ‘Harmony and Discord in China’s Africa Strategy: Some Implications for Foreign Policy’, The China Quarterly, 199, 563-584.
Alden, C. and Large, D. (2011) ‘China’s Exceptionalism and the Challenges of Delivering Difference in Africa’, Journal of Contemporary China, 20, 68, 21-38.
Arrighi, G. (2002) ‘The African Crisis: World Systemic and Regional Aspects’, New Left Review, 15, 5-36.
Brautigam, D. (2009) The Dragon’s Gift: The Real Story of China in Africa. Oxford University Press: Oxford.
Brautigam, D. (2011) Chinese Development Aid in Africa: What, where, why and how much? In J. Golley and L. Song (eds.) China Update 2011. Australia National University: Canberra.
Cheng, J. Y. S. and Shi, H. (2009) ‘China’s African Policy in the Post-Cold War Era’, Journal of Contemporary Asia, 39, 1, 87-115.
Clapham, C. (2007) Fitting China In. In In C. Alden, D. Large, and R. Soares de Oliveira (eds.) China Returns to Africa: A Rising Power and a Continent Embrace. Hurst Publishers Ltd: London.
Collier, P. (2008) The Bottom Billion: Why the Poorest Countries are Failing and What Can Be Done About It. Oxford University Press: Oxford.
Corkin, L. (2011) ‘Uneasy alliances: China’s evolving relations with Angola’, Journal of Contemporary African Studies, 29, 2, 169-180.
Englebert, P. (2000) ‘Pre-Colonial Institutions, Post-Colonial States, and Economic Development in Tropical Africa’, Political Research Quarterly, 53, 1, 7-36.
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FOCAC (2006) China’s African Policy. FOCAC website at http://www.focac.org/eng/zfgx/dfzc/t481748.htm, accessed 17 March 2012.
Haugen, H. O. (2011) ‘Chinese Exports to Africa: Competition, Complementarity and Cooperation between Micro-Level Actors’, Forum for Development Studies, 38, 2, 157-176.
Herbst, J. (1989) ‘The Creation and Maintenance of National Boundaries in Africa’, International Organization, 43, 4, 673-692.
Jackson, R. H. (1993) Quasi-states: Sovereignty, International Relations and the Third World. Cambridge University Press: Cambridge.
Kaplinsky, R., McCormick, D. and Morris, M. (2008) ‘China and Sub-Saharan Africa: Impacts and Challenges of a Growing Relationship’, SAIS Working Paper in African Studies 05-08, Johns Hopkins University.
Kiala, C. (2010) ‘China-Angola aid relations: strategic cooperation for development’, South African Journal of International Affairs, 17, 3, 313-331.
Kopinsky, D. and Polus, A. (2011) ‘Sino-Zambian relations: ‘An all-weather friendship’ weathering the storm’, Journal of Contemporary African Studies, 29, 2, 181-192.
Large, D. (2008) From Non-Interference to Constructive Engagement? China’s Evolving Relations with Sudan. In C. Alden, D. Large, and R. Soares de Oliveira (eds.) China Returns to Africa: A Rising Power and a Continent Embrace. Hurst Publishers Ltd: London.
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Lynch, G. and Crawford, G. (2011) ‘Democratization in Africa 1990-2010: An Assessment’, Democratization, 18, 2, 275-310.
Melamed, C. (2006) ‘Briefing: Wrong Questions, Wrong Answers – Trade, Trade Talks, and Africa’, African Affairs, 105, 420, 451-460.
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[1] The term is used here to refer both to economic and broader human development. On the complex and sometimes weak relationship between the two, see UNDP (2010: 46 – 50).
[2] Although of diminishing importance in recent years, courting of African support has also been bound up in China’s continued insistence on international non-recognition of Taiwanese statehood (Cheng Shi, 2009).
[3] Alden (2007) details how broader Sino-African relations are mainly conducted on a bilateral basis while also involving beneath this an increasing number of non-state actors, from multi-national corporations to municipal authorities and small businesses.
[4] As Deborah Brautigam puts it, “China’s development aid to Africa has increased rapidly, yet this might be the only fact on which we have widespread agreement when it comes to Chinese aid” (2011: 203).
[5] The extent to which this has actually reduced levels of poverty and inequality is debated (Pinkovskiy Sala-I-Martin, 2010)
[6] The frequent use of skilled and unskilled Chinese labour in projects such as these enables Chinese firms to outperform competitors in speed and cost, but prevents the use or training of the local workforce and thereby generates resentment. Brautigam (2009: 154-157) suggests, however, that this problem is often exaggerated and is itself a policy choice of African governments who now increasingly recruit local workers.
[7] Rather than an issue of the exploitation of Zambian workers per se, Taylor (2009: 166-167) suggests that this is a general reflection of poor Chinese labour standards at home as much as abroad.
— Written by: Ben Willis Written at: University of Plymouth Written for: Karen Treasure Date written: April 2012
Secessionist Movements and Ethnic Conflict: Debate-Framing and Rhetoric in Independence Campaigns By: Beata Huszka
London and New York: Routledge, 2014
Despite years of meticulous research on secessionism we are still far away from producing definitive answers to some basic questions: Why do some secessionist movements succeed in establishing independent and sovereign states, when most fail? Why do some secessionists adopt violent tactics in their political struggle, whereas the majority remain confined to peaceful protests and parliamentary politics? Why do some movements for independence have a wide support base and others attract attention and backing from a specific, class, religion or ethnic-based grouping? Why do the leaderships of separatist and secessionist parties adopt broad-based messages likely to appeal to variety of individuals while other secessionist leaders operate with extremely narrow and exclusive discourses that entice the support of a very particular audience?
Beata Huszka’s Secessionist Movements and Ethnic Conflict aims to address some of these questions by focusing on differences in the rhetoric of political mobilisation used by variety of secessionist movements. More specifically, she is interested in the links between: The rhetorical frames adopted by particular movements, the success of secessionist projects and the presence of violent or non-violent outcomes during the political mobilisation for independence. In this context, Huszka explores how these rhetorical discourses change and why some secessionist movements opt for the more exclusive definitions of their potential constituents, while others develop much more flexible and inclusive understandings of their support base. Moreover, she examines why some secessionists focus on the economic arguments for independence (i.e. financial exploitation by the central state, the increasing costs of existing union, the asymmetric distribution of wealth that privileges one ethnic group/region over others, etc.); why some invoke the ethno-cultural reasons (i.e. the preservation of national language and cultural traditions) while others emphasise the political issues (i.e. the lack of democratisation and infringement of human rights); and why many secessionists pinpoint security considerations (i.e. the existential threat posed by the majority group or the centralised state).
Huszka’s principal goal is to explain the changing dynamics of secessionist framing and in particular why different movements employ different farming strategies. One of her key arguments is that “the perception of an internal threat associated with the presence of an ethnic majority in the seceding entity determines whether collective identity will be framed in an ethnically inclusive or exclusive way” (p.4). Furthermore, she also identifies two other variables that play a central role in the dynamics of secessionist framing: The demographic factor and the presence of an ethnic minority that is politically allied with the centre or the neighbouring hostile polity. In Huszka’s view, ethnically homogenous and highly heterogeneous populations tend towards adopting ethnically inclusive secessionist rhetoric, whereas partly heterogeneous polities are more prone to ethnic exclusivism. The presence of a potentially threatening ethnic minority within the movement’s midst is seen as further contributing towards the rhetoric of exclusivity and intolerance.
Much of this book is devoted to testing these propositions on the concrete empirical material. Huszka provides a comparative analysis of rhetorical frames through her examination of the independence campaigns in Slovenia and Croatia at the end of 1980s and at the beginning of 1990s, and in Montenegro in the early 2000s. Since these three case studies are all examples of successful secessionist movements resulting in the establishment of sovereign states, she also briefly explores East Timor, Aceh, Catalonia and the Basque country to assess the validity of her central arguments in contexts where full independence has not been achieved.
The Diversity of Secessionism
This is an interesting and insightful book that demonstrates the inherent complexity of discourse construction in the campaigns of independence movements. Huszka offers a meticulous analysis of different rhetorical strategies developed by a variety of secessionist movements and in this way challenges popular and some academic perceptions that all secessionist arguments are similar if not identical. This is well illustrated by her subtle comparisons and contrasts of mobilisation processes in Slovenia, Croatia and Montenegro. I thought that the chapter on Croatia was particularly well argued as it deftly captures the changing dynamics and interdependence of the political rhetoric deployed by the various Croatian organisations and the Serbian minority movements in Croatia.
Despite Huszka’s ambition to develop a universal theory for the analysis of secessionism worldwide, it seems that this model works much better as a set of principles applicable to a particular type of secessionist movements – those that arise in the context of a severely weakened federal state. One of the issues that looms large but is not addressed in the book is the relationship between the central authority and the secessionist movement/s. For example, the bulk of her book is devoted to case studies where secessionism came about as a result of state collapse. As Huszka recognises, neither Slovenia nor Montenegro had long histories of independence claims. Even in Croatia, which had more of a history of separatism, secessionism was not seriously contemplated, even at the very onset of the federal state collapse. This was well illustrated by the available public polls, all of which indicate that even in early 1990 an overwhelming majority of the populations of Slovenia, Croatia, and Montenegro (in this case well until the early 2000s) were in favour of retaining some form of the joint Yugoslav state.[1]
I therefore argue that it was the broader context of state collapse that gave impetus to secessionist aspirations. In this context, the Yugoslav cases resemble those of Czechoslovakia, the Soviet Union, Ethiopia, and Eritrea, where secessionism was the direct outcome of state collapse brought about by large scale geo-political transformation. It is interesting to note here that all available survey and poll data conducted just before the Czech and Slovak parliaments declared independence (without any referenda) also showed that the majority of Czech and Slovak citizens were in favour of maintaining the joint state.[2] This, I would argue, seems very different to the polities where secessionism has a much longer tradition and is not so directly linked to the strength or weakness of the central state. Huszka’s own examples of Basque, Catalan, Aceh and East Timor are all instances of independence movements developing and expanding within the context of strong and relatively stable states (Spain and Indonesia). In the Catalan and Basque examples and furthermore in Scotland, Quebec, and Flanders, one could even go further and argue that secessionism expanded together with the rise of, what Michael Mann would call, infrastructural powers of the central state. I would argue it is important to differentiate these two very different forms of secessionist experiences and to acknowledge the central role of geo-political change in generating secessionist outcomes.
Rhetorical Framing
Another issue that requires more attention than Huszka gave it in her book is the underlining assumption that rhetorical framing is the central causal factor in explaining the direction and outcome of the specific secessionist project. Huszka argues that rhetorical frames shape social action: “citizens internalise the system of classification and mental structures offered by that discourse” (p. 7), and “economic arguments automatically create inclusive identities” (p. 10). This assumption is problematic for two reasons. For one thing it is based on epistemological idealism, which understands human beings as norm driven creatures, whose behaviour is the simple reflection of their beliefs and values. While discursive frames certainly contribute to the complexity of social action, it is hard to argue that they represent the only or the dominant factor governing human behaviour. Since Max Weber, scholars have been aware that social action rests on variety of sources: Instrumental rationalism, value rational action, emotions, habitual behaviour, etc. Hence there is nothing automatic and self-explanatory in social action. Another closely related issue is the lack of evidence to assess the impact of discursive framing. While it is clear that Huszka’s focus is on the changing dynamics of rhetoric used to gauge the popular reception of such rhetoric, one cannot simply assume that the two are neatly correlated. Thus without adequate and reliable proof, one should not make such strong claims about citizens’ allegedly unproblematic internalisation of particular discourses or about the automatic creation of specific identities.
This analytical nonchalance is also visible in the discrepancy between the theory and empirical analysis. One the one hand, Huszka adopts a social constructivist approach and accepts the key principles of this epistemological position, which, among other things, insist on the malleability of social identification, plasticity and diversity of group ties and the impact institutions have in shaping social relations (p. 5). On the other hand, her empirical chapters are completely dominated by the hard, objectivist, essentialist and what Brubaker would call groupist, conceptual apparatus. [3] Therefore in her empirical analysis, ethnic groups are conceived as mutually exclusive entities that struggle over territory or resources and whose demographic position determines the likelihood of inter-group conflict. For example, she writes about how “ethnically exclusive national identity characterised Croats up until the first democratic elections” (p. 68), how “people seek self-determination” (p. 2), how “Croatian people were most receptive to the ethnic security frame” while “Croatian Serbs were interested in compromise” (p. 94-5), or how “the argument boiled down to a disagreement between Slovenes and Croats on the one side and Serbs on the other” (p. 33) etc. No consistent social constructivist could perceive ethic groups and nations in such a uniform way. Rather than speaking about millions of people as having a single will, ambition, or purpose it is crucial to differentiate between diverse social movements and organisations that tend to speak as a particular uniform collective. I don’t think it is worthwhile, or even possible, to reconcile – which is Huszka’s aim – such incompatible approaches as essentialist groupism of Horowitz and Collier with the social constructivist propositions that are built into the frame and discourse analyses.
This neglect of inherent diversity is also visible in Huszka’s overemphasis on the singular discursive frames, which are attributed to entire ethnic or political groups. Thus, she associates the ethnic security frame with Croatian independence and the frames of democracy and prosperity with the Slovenian and Montenegrin secessionisms. However, it is important to emphasise that in each of these cases there were competing discourses within the dominant frame. It is not completely clear why some social movements and organisations have managed to impose themselves as the most trustworthy representatives of a particular frame, while others have not. For example, in the Croatian and Montenegrin cases the Croatian Party of Rights (HSP) and the Liberal Party of Montenegro were respectively early and loud exponents of the ethnic security frame. However, it was the Croatian Democratic Community (HDZ) and the Democratic Party of Socialists of Montenegro (PDS) which ultimately attained and maintained the mass popular support utilising several different frames. One of these frames was the ethnic security frame which was re-appropriated and later monopolised by HDZ and PDS.
Regardless of these critical remarks there is no doubt that Huszka has produced a high quality study that will appeal not only to the students and scholars of secessionist movements and ethnic conflicts, but also to all those interested in discourse and rhetoric framing processes.
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Siniša Maleševićis a Professor and Head/Chair of Sociology, University College, Dublin. His most recent publications include Nation-States and Nationalisms: Organisation, Ideology and Solidarity (Polity, 2013) and with John A. Hall (eds.) Nationalism and War (Cambridge University Press, 2013).
[1] See S. Malešević (2002) Ideology, Legitimacy and the New State: Yugoslavia, Serbia and Croatia. London: Routledge; S. Malešević and G. Uzelac (2007) Nation-State without the Nation? The Trajectories of Nation-Formation in Montenegro. Nations and Nationalism 13(4): 695-716.
[2] According to the latest poll conducted before the dissolution only 37% of Slovaks and 36% of Czechs favoured dissolution of the federal state (H. Kamm, “At Fork in Road, Czechoslovaks Fret”, New York Times, 9 October 1992).
[3] See R. Brubaker (2004) Ethnicity without Groups. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. S. Malešević (2006) Identity as Ideology: Understanding Ethnicity and Nationalism. New York: Palgrave.
How is Russia’s public diplomacy changing and how will this transformation impact its geopolitical agenda? Read RD Quarterly to find out.
Soft Power 2.0: New ideas and approaches. Video by Pavel Gazdyuk
RD expert Alexey Dolinskiy, Ph.D. in Political Science, Director of the Ward Howell Talent Equity Institute, outlines the prospects for Russia’s public diplomacy and soft power and explains what role they play in Russia’s current geopolitical agenda.
According to him, Russia is currently trying to redefine soft power policy, public diplomacy and international development policy.
“That gives a unique opportunity to combine each of those components to achieve the best results both for Russia itself and its partner countries,” he argues. “Russia has been providing international aid for many years, but now it is trying to re-think what it has been doing, in order to shift from a multilateral basis to a primarily bilateral basis.”
In addition, Moscow is making an attempt to increase the number of participants in its public diplomacy policy. This means involving numerous non-profit organizations, private companies, universities and other educational agencies. According to Dolinskiy, this can establish lasting connections with other countries and be beneficial for both Russia’s public diplomacy and its international development policy.
In this context, Dolinskiy points out the endeavor of Russia’s Agency for Cooperation with Former Soviet Union Countries and Compatriots Abroad, which has been developing a new strategy for international development policy.
“This report is an attempt to analyze what Russia can be doing differently and consider what best practices from other countries it might use in developing its policy in the future,” he sums up.
Alexey Dolinskiy, a partner at Capstone Connections consultancy and director of Ward Howell Talent Equity Institute. Dolinsky holds a Ph.D. in Political Science from Moscow State Institute of International Relations and an M.A. in law and diplomacy from Fletcher School.
