by Cecelia Lynch, Co-editor of The CIHA Blog
It was a beautiful evening in September 2012, and I was standing outside of the National Theatre in Dakar, waiting to hear a benefit concert on behalf of people made homeless by recent floods. I had debated whether or not to spend the $100 required for the ticket (a splurge for me in the U.S., let alone Senegal). But the headliner was Youssou N’Dour, who was coming out of musical retirement (he was then the Senegalese Minister of Culture) to perform along with three other famous Senegalese musicians, Ismael Lo, Thione Seck, and Omar Pene. And it was for a ‘good cause.’
Despite the impressive line-up, the audience filled less than half of the 1,800-seat theatre, probably due to the steep ticket price. As I waited in line to enter, I could not help overhearing conversations around me. In addition to well-dressed groups of people who were likely Senegalese speaking Wolof or French, and the occasional lone Senegalese student or office worker with whom I spoke, there were clusters of Anglo-American and European folks speaking mostly English, except that these people seemed to have something else in common. Eventually, one man said to another woman in a nearby cluster, “Weren’t you in Kosovo in ’98?” Their two groups started to meld together.
These were some of the ‘international interveners,’ the people whose culture and practices Séverine Autesserre dissects so well in Peaceland. Autesserre’s ethnographic gaze provides a much-needed look inward for the peacebuilding, aid and humanitarian industry as a whole, and she argues that such seemingly innocuous socializing is part of the problem. According to Autesserre, interveners of all nationalities travel in packs, hang out almost exclusively with others of their own ilk, and engage in numerous other practices that reinforce boundaries between them and local populations. This is not because they are bad people or that they completely fail in ‘doing good,’ but rather because they fall into patterns, structured by organizational overreactions to dangers, the need to please donors, and ignorance of local contexts and customs, among other issues, that thwart the very work of peacebuilding they set out to accomplish.
Autesserre’s narrative is comprehensive and compelling: her research is top-notch and her analysis of interveners’ positive and negative characteristics is spot-on. She also writes with both authority and understanding – she is a former intervener as well as an academic who specializes in peacebuilding. She weaves her own experiences into her vast accumulation of evidence (which she discusses thoroughly in both the first chapters and an appendix), to demonstrate the counterproductive effects of the ‘bubble’ inhabited by interveners in Peaceland. For example, security measures prompted by concerns for interveners’ safety border on the ludicrous, including all of the things that frustrate or amuse both local populations and outside critics: enclosing themselves in white, four-wheel drive vehicles with their organizational logos prominently displayed, living in separate compounds or facilities in the best parts of town, and staying away from the very people they are supposed to help. These and other practices turn what should be more effective partnership into top-down impositions that are often resisted (even more effectively) by the recipients of their efforts.
Ultimately, however, what is at issue are unequal relations of power (regarding knowledge, resources, and access), and corresponding attitudes of superiority on the part of the interveners’ vis-a-vis recipient populations. Autesserre also analyzes the dedicated interveners who recognize these problems and work hard to counteract them. She carefully draws from this analysis specific prescriptions for change that, if followed, can make a tangible, constructive difference in future peacebuilding efforts.
Autesserre is both precise and catholic (with a lower-case ‘c’) in her documentation and recommendations, in that she has thought through and organized into themes the very specific ways that practices hinder peacebuilding. Moreover, she addresses a range of alternative explanations in her analysis, asserting that her focus on the practices of interveners is meant more to complement, rather than replace, many of these alternatives. The focus on practice, of course, draws from the work of Pierre Bourdieu, among others.[1]But those chary of social theory can rest easy: Autesserre approaches Bourdieu and his followers with a thoroughly pragmatic touch, which allows her to appeal concisely to the recent ‘practice turn’ in international relations while zeroing in on her primary goal – to document problems and make concrete suggestions for better ways to do the work of peacebuilding. She builds on her own previous work as well as that of others, to whom she gives full credit. Given that she also states that one of her goals is to open up additional questions for future research, I want to suggest several issues she touches on that should be analyzed further. I also have one clarification, or possible disagreement, with her discussion of alternative explanations for her findings. These two points – future research and other frameworks for analyzing the problems of interveners — are related. I hope they will open up a productive conversation with Autesserre, given that hers is the most detailed and compelling analysis of the practices of interveners, the problems of peacebuilding, and the possible (and practicable) solutions to these problems that exists, to my knowledge.
Among other alternative frameworks, Autesserre discusses and mostly dismisses liberalism and the liberal peace as explanations for why peacebuilders engage in counterproductive practices (see, for example, 51-55, 98, 190). But in doing so she appears to conflate liberal values, theories and critiques of the liberal peace, and critiques of neoliberal constructs of power and governmentality, including those from postcolonial perspectives. Each of these perspectives is broad, perhaps too broad, and their terminologies sometimes serve as tropes for critical international relations scholars. I, too, have critiqued neoliberal mechanisms of control and funding for promoting many of the techniques and pressures in humanitarianism that Autesserre finds problematic in Peaceland. Resulting problems include the search for quick results and quantifiable metrics that generally do not tell us anything about the actual worth of the programs implemented, and the assumption that local people must implement training and capacity-building efforts that they may or may not find useful.[2] Indeed, all of these patterns and practices can be seen as part and parcel of the rise of market forms of philanthropy that compel pressures for rapid returns on the dollar. This critique of neoliberal practices need not, however, accord with that of proponents or critics of the so-called liberal peace, which refers to the proposition that modern liberal democracies do not fight each other and the conclusion that we need to create more of them. Nor does it necessarily rely on an argument that ‘liberal values’ are at issue when interveners behave similarly no matter what part of the world they are from.
It may be that some liberal aid donors, including those who fund peacebuilding organizations, are trying to create conditions for the liberal peace to be achieved, even when their attempts are counterproductive. While critiques of such efforts are important,[3] they are not necessarily the same critique as that of many scholars who worry about the neoliberal character of donor pressures and intervener practices. The latter critique of neoliberalism does not assume that all interveners instantiate and display ‘liberal values.’ Rather, following James Ferguson and Ole Jacob Sending and Iver Neumann, among others, in their use of a partially Foucauldian analysis, the critique of neoliberalism aligns with Autesserre’s own findings: the practices of international interveners are frequently counterproductive, with policies that demonstrate ignorance of local and regional histories and norms.[4] As Ferguson shows, moreover, interveners’ practices can create forms of governance by (unelected) non-government organizations (NGOs) on the ground and donor governance from afar. In fact, interveners from all over the world can behave similarly because neoliberal mechanisms of governmentality, both discursive and material, place enormous pressure on them to do so. Nevertheless, some still attempt to disrupt such neoliberal pressures and mechanisms.
This kind of critique of the ‘humanitarian international’ (Alex de Waal’s 1997 term for the composite of Autesserre’s aptly-named ‘Peaceland’ plus other aspects of the humanitarian world)[5], also aligns with critiques based on post-colonial and neocolonial analyses. Many, though not all, of the anthropologists that Autesserre suggests interveners read are concerned that contemporary peacebuilders, humanitarians, and development experts engage in practices that recall (at best) or replicate (at worst) colonial forms of paternalism and external control, even when such consequences are completely unintended. One of the major insights of anthropological as well as historical work is to expose these kinds of relationships, which many (but not all) interveners from the former colonial powers mistakenly, in my view, see as long-ago histories that do not affect their work in the field. It is of course true that many people in postcolonial societies also want to move on from complaints about colonial legacies of violence to deal with issues of peacebuilding in the midst of problematic governance today. But we need to remember that many people alive today were born into racialized colonial constructs and lived through often bloody struggles for independence, and that those in the younger generations continue to debate these issues vociferously. As a result, those of us concerned with humanitarianism, aid, and peacebuilding in international relations need not see the issues of colonial legacies, neoliberal pressures, and intervener practices as completely unrelated. Indeed, many of Autesserre’s own interlocutors indicate that these legacies or their relationship to neoliberalism are both present and powerful, and merit further conceptual as well as pragmatic attention (see, for example, 100, 132, 171, 181, 197, 202-204, 233, 253, and 286). Just because the ‘neoliberal humanitarian international’ or Peaceland includes interveners from formerly colonized territories does not mean that they cannot be socialized into the same discourses and practices that continue to treat many of their societies as inherently inferior.
Bringing neoliberalism and postcolonialism more fully into Autesserre’s analysis is productive, in my view, because it can give us some purchase on how inegalitarian practices became instantiated in Peaceland and what is at stake in their continual reproduction by interveners. It also gives us an idea of the kinds of challenges that confront those who attempt to change these practices. Such lenses are compatible with Autesserre’s important analysis. They can also strengthen her emphasis on the power differentials of the structures in which harmful practices are embedded. Seeing these structures clearly enables agents – both recipient populations and interveners – to challenge neocolonial patterns and assumptions of superiority that are, I think, at the heart of the problematic hierarchy of knowledge that Autesserre deplores. Moreover, there are local and regional actors in postcolonial societies (Somalia and Kenya, for example) who are currently using these very lenses to reconfigure both Peaceland and the humanitarian international. One example is the recent proposal for a Global Network for Southern NGOs that is intended to bypass the current system of interveners.[6]
Finally, Autesserre’s analysis suggests that the role of religious peacebuilders, or ‘faith-based organizations’ (FBOs), also deserves further exploration. At several points, she refers to groups such as Caritas and Catholic Relief Services as some of those providing a different model that helps to equalize relationships with local populations. She also mentions ‘missionaries’ as refusing many of the protections that interveners take for granted. Autesserre’s research thus complements the work on ‘strategic peacebuilding’ done by the transnational Catholic Peacebuilding Network (CPN) and practitioners and scholars at the University of Notre Dame.[7] Pursuing this line of research should not, however, result in the attempt to find yet another silver bullet – i.e., that FBOs are the answer to interveners’ problems — but instead could provide examples, both positive and negative, of religious peacebuilders who both embody and potentially reconfigure the long and complex histories of mission and colonialism, further complicating the postcolonial perspective I advocate including above.
My discussion reflects the energy and power of Autesserre’s thesis and research, and the extraordinary service she continues to render (from her first book to this one) to scholarship and practice alike.[8] It attempts to respond to her call to further research in these areas, and also to probe more deeply the nuances and similarities of post-colonial contexts and the power – and openings – in neoliberal forms of governmentality. As a final point, I would add to her recommendations the necessity for interveners to familiarize themselves with the work and impact of writers, artists, and scholars in the societies where they are stationed. I was surprised at a recent conference, for example, to learn that a Western intervener with many years of experience in Kenya had never heard of Ngugi wa Thiong’o, an eminent writer who was forced into exile by former Kenyan dictator Daniel Arap Moi. Ngugi’s works have long been required reading for students in many parts of Africa and elsewhere. His recent books provide deep (and humorous) insights into the intersecting influence of international interveners, international institutions, transnational religious movements, and sub-Saharan African history and politics[9]. Understanding the richness and variety of sources of knowledge within ‘recipient’ societies, and something of their reach across the post-colonial world (i.e., they are not simply ‘local’ sources), could generate more humility and reflexivity on the part of interveners regarding their assumptions about ‘helping’ people in these societies.
I have not socialized much with internationals, but I have interviewed quite a few of them, along with at least as many ‘nationals’ and ‘locals’ involved in humanitarian efforts in many parts of East and West Africa, the Middle East, and the North American and European centers of NGO power, for a current book project focusing on the ethics of Christian and Muslim humanitarians. I have also attended my fair share of conferences about aid, humanitarianism, and peacebuilding. Autesserre’s work is an extraordinary and indispensable contribution not only for my work but for that of numerous others. May the conceptual and pragmatic aspects of this critically important conversation – and concrete moves to rectify serious problems – continue.
Cecelia Lynch is a professor of political science at the University of California, Irvine. She is also co-editor of the CIHA Blog.
[1] Pierre Bourdieu, Outline of a Theory of Practice (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1977). In international relations, Anna Leander and Didier Bigo are prominent exponents of Bourdieu. See, among other contributions, Leander, “Do we really need reflexivity in IPE? Bourdieu’s two reasons for answering affirmatively,” Review of International Political Economy 9:4 (2002): 601-609, DOI: https://doi.org/10.1080/0969229022000021817, and Bigo, “Pierre Bourdieu and International Relations: Power of Practices, Practices of Power,” International Political Sociology 5:3 (2011): 225-258. DOI: https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1749-5687.2011.00132.x
[2] Cecelia Lynch, “Neoliberal Ethics, the Humanitarian International, and Practices of Peacebuilding,” in Jackie Smith and Ernesto Verdeja, eds., Globalization, Social Movements, and Peacebuilding (Syracuse: Syracuse University Press, 2013), 47-68, and Cecelia Lynch, “Religious Humanitarianism and the Global Politics of Secularism,” in Mark Juergensmeyer, Jonathan VanAntwerpen, and Craig Calhoun, eds., Rethinking Secularism (New York: Oxford University Press, 2011), 204-224.
[3] See Susanna Campbell, David Chandler, and Meera Sabaratnam, eds. A Liberal Peace? The Problems and Practices of Peacebuilding. (London: Zed Books, 2011).
[4] James Ferguson, The Anti-Politics Machine: ‘Development,’ Depoliticization, and Bureaucratic Power in Lesotho (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990); Ole Jacob Sending and Iver B. Neumann, “Governance to Governmentality: Analyzing NGOs, States, and Power”, International Studies Quarterly 50:1 (2006): 20-55. DOI: https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1468-2478.2006.00418.x
[5] Alex de Waal, Famine Crimes: Politics & The Disaster Relief Industry in Africa (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1997/2009).
[6] Imogen Wall, “’We are demanding change’: the Somali woman taking on international NGOs.” The Guardian, 21 March 2016, http://www.theguardian.com/global-development-professionals-network/2016/mar/21/degan-ali-somali-woman-taking-on-the-humanitarian-system; “In the News: Demanding Change in Humanitarian Aid”, 13 April 2016. The CIHA Blog (Critical Investigations into Humanitarianism in Africa). www.cihablog.com.
[7] Atalia Omer, R. Scott Appleby, and David Little, eds., The Oxford Handbook of Religion, Conflict and Peacebuilding (New York: Oxford University Press, 2015); Daniel Philpott, and Gerard F. Powers, eds., Strategies of Peace: Transforming Conflict in a Violent World (New York: Oxford University Press, 2010).
[8] Severine Autesserre, The Trouble with the Congo: Local Violence and the Failure of International Peacebuilding (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2010).
[9] See, especially, Ngugi Wa Thiong’o, The Wizard of the Crow (New York: Anchor Books, 2006).