Mozambique

Nolan Quinn is a research associate for the Council on Foreign Relations’ Africa Program. On October 14, the Islamist insurgency focused in northern Mozambique spilled over into Tanzania, with an estimated three hundred militants carrying out an attack on Kitaya village in the region of Mtwara. Since then, Ansar al-Sunna (ASWJ)—the Mozambican jihadi group with apparent links to the self-proclaimed Islamic State (IS)—has claimed at least three more attacks in Mtwara. This comes despite Tanzania sending troops to the region earlier this year to tighten border security and its military’s security operations in areas near the Mozambican border. The widening scope of ASWJ’s attacks is indicative of the shortcomings of the current approach to combating the group. The response to the Islamist insurgency has, thus far, been primarily military in focus. In September 2019, the Wagner Group—a private military contractor with links to the Kremlin—was deployed to Cabo Delgado, Mozambique’s worst-afflicted province and site of the largest private investment in Africa. By November the same year, the mercenaries were evacuated after sustaining losses; another security contractor, the South African Dyck Advisory Group (DAG), remains in Cabo Delgado but has been unable to subdue the insurgency. An (unlikely) intervention by South African government forces has been considered, and Zimbabwe’s ruling party has argued the Southern African Development Community should invoke its mutual defense pact and enter the conflict. The European Union, meanwhile, agreed last month to provide training as well as logistical and medical support to Mozambican forces. The military response has been hampered by its unprofessionalism. Tensions between Tanzanian and Mozambican forces were already high before the former allegedly fired rockets into the latter’s territory, injuring civilians. Mozambican forces were implicated in a horrific extrajudicial killing last year and have been credibly accused of various other abuses. DAG helicopters have, on multiple occasions, killed Mozambican civilians in counterinsurgency operations. Amid the climate of insecurity, Mozambique’s government has begun arming militia groups, which have publicly tortured and beheaded suspected insurgents. Government forces and militia groups have accidentally attacked one another several times, highlighting a lack of coordination. Concerted efforts to improve governance and economic opportunity in Cabo Delgado have been largely absent from any existing counterinsurgency strategy. Instead, in a peripheral region blighted by persistent poverty and inequality [PDF], government officials have prioritized the interests of multinational energy companies, large-scale ruby miners, and heroin smugglers [PDF] at the expense of local workers—all while enriching themselves [PDF] through corrupt practices. In Tanzania, President John Magufuli has shown slightly more concern for Mtwara’s economic fortunes by promising government purchases of cashews, a local staple. This, however, has not stopped residents of the region—an opposition stronghold—from crossing into Cabo Delgado to join the insurgency. Government corruption and economic stagnation, coupled with security forces’ penchant for human rights violations, help strengthen ASWJ. While the Islamist group is notorious for gruesome killings, it also employs tactics to win local support. The group has warned civilians to flee before attacks, distributed food in areas under its control, and offered loans to potential recruits. This “hearts and minds” approach bears the imprint of IS, which advocated a similar tactical shift in the Lake Chad Basin, where the Islamic State in West Africa (ISWA) began providing services and split from Boko Haram due to the latter’s more indiscriminate targeting of civilians. It appears that ASWJ, which has been formally aligned with IS since June 2019, has increased cooperation [PDF] with foreign jihadis. By implementing some of their operational practices, ASWJ is finding success in undermining the Mozambican government’s already tenuous claims to legitimacy. A first step in improving the counterinsurgency effort should be to formalize militia groups’ participation. A major impediment to the military response has been the makeup of troops deployed to Cabo Delgado: most soldiers do not speak the local languages and, being underpaid with little personal attachment to the area, often retreat when attacked. Both the military and militia groups need training in human rights—from the European Union or a regional body—and a clear indication that violations will be punished. To date, Mozambique’s government has not taken any steps to investigate abuses. This makes it difficult for government forces to win local cooperation in fighting ASWJ. Better regional partnerships—especially with the Tanzanian government, with whom joint police operations are set to begin—are needed to push back on ASWJ’s expansion, particularly its growing maritime prowess. A military-first approach cannot cure a failing state. The government and its partners should equally focus on restoring—or, in some areas, establishing for the first time—provision of basic services. Encouragingly, after years of delay, the government appears to have recognized the need for a development strategy. As renowned Mozambique scholar Joseph Hanlon recently documented [PDF], President Filipe Nyusi has put one of his most trusted, effective officials in charge of development agencies—with a remit focused in the country’s north—controlling more than $2.8 billion. The World Bank, meanwhile, has set aside $700 million for initiatives “to address the underlying causes of fragility and conflict.” Hanlon also points to a cash transfer program, starting in Cabo Delgado but later scaling up to the entire country, as a plausible way to share resource wealth. These measures are not preordained for success: hollow institutions and rampant corruption are at the core of Mozambique’s problems and will complicate the rollout of economic stimulus programs. Building a more effective state will amplify military and economic approaches to counterinsurgency and improve the chances of achieving lasting peace. The process of doing so will be long and arduous. But after years of neglecting—even actively harming—many of its citizens, Mozambique’s government has no alternative.

The worsening crisis in northern Mozambique is a case study in why governance matters. For years, the prevailing narrative about Mozambique was all about peace dividends, economic growth, and the promise of the country’s extraordinary natural resources. To be sure, there were warning signs about endemic corruption, and the growth was never inclusive. But now the headlines are dominated by the fighting in Cabo Delgado, where ISIS-linked insurgents have terrorized the population, killing over 1,500 people, displacing over 300,000, creating a food security crisis, and exposing the profound weakness of the state. That weakness has been exacerbated by international criminal networks that have been active for many years in the country, establishing deep roots and taking advantage of a political culture that allows the powerful to evade the law. Mozambican officials famously hid secret loans from citizens and international partners, leading to a sprawling scandal that still taints officials at the highest levels. Meanwhile, from the heroin trade to ruby smuggling, crime has become entwined with the state, leaving it both less capable and less trusted. That environment has proven fertile for violent extremists. Since 2017, attacks from insurgents, known as Ansar al-Sunna, have been growing in frequency and sophistication. The government’s response may well be making the problem worse. Human rights organizations have documented grotesque abuses committed by security services charged with protecting citizens, further alienating the population.  The failures of these forces has prompted Mozambique to turn to foreign mercenaries for help; the state simply doesn't have the capacity to provide basic security within its borders. Meanwhile, Mozambique’s neighbors and international partners are becoming increasingly uncomfortable. The Southern African Development Community, or SADC, has expressed concern but is presently more wary of involvement than of contagion. Multinational firms invested in Mozambique’s natural gas fields wish to secure their investments but find few desirable and capable partners in doing so. But the fragility of Mozambique has been evident for years. Perhaps if, a decade ago, the international community had expended more energy supporting the civil society actors who have been calling attention to these deep-rooted problems—and pressed harder to support solutions—Mozambique today might demonstrate more resilience, and the outlook would be less bleak.

James Blake is an advisor, analyst, and journalist who focuses on conflict, humanitarian crises, and refugee issues. He is a member of the International Crisis Group's ambassadorial council.  As the world’s attention is fixed on the global COVID-19 pandemic, a brewing conflict in northern Mozambique is threatening to plunge the region into chaos. The conflict, which broke out in Cabo Delgado province in the fall of 2017, has since resulted in more than 1,000 deaths and forced 100,000 people to flee their homes. The details remain murky—not least because the government has banned researchers and journalists from covering it—but it is becoming clear that the so-called Islamic State is trying to capitalize on the insurgency. Along with the rising death toll, growing humanitarian needs, and brutal human rights abuses, there is concern among analysts that the conflict could spread into neighboring countries across southern and eastern Africa, not unlike the spread of jihadi violence in the Sahel.   Northern Mozambique has long suffered from high levels of illiteracy, poverty, child malnutrition, and alleged government discrimination. The region is primarily Muslim and features multiple languages, while the rest of the country is predominantly Christian. Cabo Delgado province in particular has long practiced Sufism, a mystical form of Islam. In recent years, new forms of Islam have been introduced to the region. In 2008, heavily influenced ideologically by Islamists in East Africa, a sect called Ahlu Sunnah Wa-Jamo (ASWJ) (“adherents of the prophetic tradition”) formed. Its primary sponsors were followers of Sheikh Rogo, who was sanctioned by the United States and UN in 2012 for providing support to al-Shabab. According to an ITCT report [PDF], following Rogo’s death, several of his followers moved to northern Mozambique.  Three mosques in Mocimboa da Praia, a district in Cabo Delgado province, adopted Rogo’s interpretation of Islam, which advocates for the formation of an Islamic State. Although the authorities have subsequently shut them down, many who studied at these three mosques as children eventually joined militias and recruited others to join their cause. Some who became members of ASWJ had been given money [PDF], which was likely the result of illicit economic activity, to attend madrassas in places such as Saudi Arabia and Sudan.  The majority of ASWJ are from the Kimwani tribe, which has suffered particular economic and social marginalization. In approximately mid-2015, the group adopted the name al-Shabab (“youth”), like the Somali-based insurgency, though it is also still called ASWJ. According to a local study [PDF], friends and marriages of members, and also the promise of monthly wages, helped ASWJ grow further.  The first registered attack took place two years later in Mocimboa da Praia in October 2017, when militants attacked a police station. ASWJ gradually increased its presence in the region and attacks continued sporadically through 2018. During this time and beyond, Human Rights Watch has documented the group beheading victims, burning entire villages to the ground, attacking schools, ports, and mosques, and raiding food supplies. By mid-August 2018, the World Food Programme started to distribute aid to the thousands of people who fled their homes and now live in IDP camps.  By summer 2019, the so-called Islamic State had announced that the group was part of its franchise, an affiliate of its Central Africa Province. It remains unclear exactly how much control IS has over the group. There are some indications of a connection; for instance, during some attacks the group has carried the black flag of Islamic State. Further, Jasmine Opperman, a security analyst, suggested the idea of temporarily occupying and looting towns, but not holding them, fits IS tactics. Recent journalistic reports suggest the group is recruiting and gaining weapons across the porous borders with neighboring countries, such as Tanzania and Congo. For its part, the Mozambique military lacks the necessary equipment and the language skills to implement a robust counter-insurgency strategy, though the African Union has offered to provide training and equipment. The number of attacks has risen significantly over the first quarter of this year. On March 23, ASWJ briefly took control of a transport hub close to one of Africa’s most significant gas projects. The fear among the business community, which includes large multinational organizations such as Total and ExxonMobil, is that the group will soon look to disrupt the gas projects and target foreign nationals for kidnapping. The government’s response has won few plaudits. Human rights agencies have accused them of detaining people without trial and arresting journalists for reporting on the conflict. In response to the growing atrocities, the government enlisted the shadowy Wagner Group, a Russian private security company with links to the Kremlin. It is currently operating in the Central African Republic and other war-torn countries Already, there are rising humanitarian needs and too little humanitarian support. The number of displaced persons has risen from 1,000 in March 2019, to more than 115,000 a year later. More than two million people are already in need of humanitarian support [PDF], according to ECHO. Such support should aim to address growing needs, boosting outcomes such as lowering malnutrition rates, and providing programs that result in more opportunities for education, and clamping down on government corruption. Northern Mozambique requires urgent international assistance to stem growing violence, armed attacks, and the likelihood of a more coordinated and lethal insurgency that is likely to outlast the coronavirus pandemic.

Southern Africa recently wrapped up two dramatically different elections. In Mozambique, presidential, parliamentary, and regional elections were characterized by irregularities and even violence, but not by suspense. The ruling FRELIMO party had ensured its victory in the pre-election period, in part through the presence of “ghost voters” on the voters’ roll, and through a campaign of intimidation aimed at challengers to its power. Election day itself was a box-ticking exercise with a pre-scripted outcome, as the carelessness of the tabulation process made plain. In contrast, in Botswana, attention was focused on the possibility that the ruling Botswana Democratic Party (BDP) might lose control of the government for the first time. In the end, the BDP and President Mokgweetsi Masisi emerged strengthened by the polls, but not because the fix was in. The outcome was a credible reflection of the will of the voters, at least some of whom appear to have distrusted an opposition coalition that included the former President Ian Khama, who was so incensed by the changes Masisi had been making that he abandoned the BDP in a fit of pique. Somehow, the Southern African Development Community’s official election observer teams saw little distinction between the two exercises, finding both of them in keeping with the organization’s Principles and Guidelines Governing Democratic Elections. Those Guidelines and Principles are admirable and thorough in their substance. But SADC lacks the courage of its stated convictions. Indeed, the Chair of the Organ on Politics, Defense, and Security Cooperation, the entity charged with deploying SADC observer missions, is Zimbabwe’s President Emmerson Mnangagwa, himself the beneficiary of a flawed electoral exercise. Of course, it is not as if Southern Africa is the only place where obvious gaps exists between stated political principles and actual practice; that state of affairs is very familiar to Americans and to many others. But acknowledging shortcomings is a necessary first step to closing the distance between reality and aspiration. In failing to meaningfully distinguish between the very different governance paths of Mozambique and Botswana, the SADC doesn’t appear to be aiming for anything in the region beyond avoiding steps that might make the powerful uncomfortable. Simply slapping a seal of approval on any electoral process, however shambolic, is not an act of regional solidarity or strength. It’s a self-defeating exercise in irrelevance. 

Welcome to “Women Around the World: This Week,” a series that highlights noteworthy news related to women and U.S. foreign policy. This week’s post, covering July 12 to July 19, was compiled by Mallory Matheson and Rebecca Turkington.

Floodwaters in Mozambique could spread cholera, raising the death toll even after the storm has passed.

As Mozambique, Zimbabwe, and Malawi continue struggling to cope with the aftermath of Cyclone Idai, it’s worth noting while the storm was exceptional in its destructive power, the risk of flooding in and around Beira is a chronic problem. As the climate warms, rising sea levels are likely to cause serious ongoing problems for important coastal hubs like Beira even without the increasing frequency of dramatic storms. Of course the immediate humanitarian crisis is where the international community must focus first. But the destruction of infrastructure that was built with climate change adaptation in mind is also worrying, and has implications not just for Mozambique, but also for landlocked states that rely on its ports.  It’s not a novel observation to point out that many of the populations currently suffering most from the effects of climate change had very little to do with generating the emissions causing the problem, but it’s a truth that will increasingly animate relations between African states and global powers like the United States and China in the future. Few would envy the position of U.S. diplomats called on to explain the Trump Administration’s climate policies to the people of southern Africa these days. As Africa becomes more urban, a greater portion of its population directly experiences the vulnerability of many African coastal cities, from giants like Lagos and Dar es Salaam to vitally important but less prominent places like Beira. While Afrobarometer data suggests that in many countries, the general population is not yet widely aware of the science of climate change, these populations are keenly aware of climate change’s effects. The resulting demands on the state – for better infrastructure, better planning, and better crisis response – will be felt by African governments with increasing intensity. Those governments, in turn, will be looking for leverage to demand more urgent action, and more equitable cost-sharing, from the largest economies. When the causes and consequences of a worldwide problem are so disproportionately allocated, it points to fundamental structural flaws in the international system. African leaders and others from the global south have made this point eloquently to date. But as the institutional architecture of the postwar order comes under increasing attack, it’s a truth that will animate alternative ideas and reform agendas.   

Cyclone Idai devastated parts of Malawi, Mozambique, and Zimbabwe this month and dissipated last week. Recovery in the affected countries is starting, but there is still a long way to go. The death toll continues to mount. As of March 24, according to media, it at least 446 in Mozambique, 259 in Zimbabwe, and 56 in Malawi. Local authorities caution that it is likely to go much higher. According to Mozambique Environment Minister Celso Correia, progress is being made to restore basic services in Beira, a major port city that bore the brunt of the storm. Electricity has been restored to water treatment facilities, the port, and to the vital rail lines, as well as some parts of the city. The main road that connects Beira to the rest of the country is expected to open early this week, facilitating the arrival of food and medicine to the city and to its environs. Beira’s population is more than half a million. Its port and rail line connects interior Mozambique and landlocked Zimbabwe and Malawi to the sea. Restoration of the railway is essential for the delivery of international humanitarian assistance to those landlocked countries. The minister’s chief concern now appears to be disease: “We’ll have cholera for sure,” he said, and malaria is “unavoidable,” given the flooding and standing water. The authorities have established a cholera center in Beira, though as yet there are no reported cases. There is also likely to be an outbreak of typhoid, and because of the damage to transportation links and disruption of markets, a food shortage. The deputy director of the UN’s humanitarian operation, Sebastian Rhodes Stampa, reports that two large field hospitals and a water purification system are expected soon. Drones are also being used as part of an extensive effort to access humanitarian needs in central Mozambique. But UN Secretary General Antonio Guterres cautioned that “far greater international support is needed.” The region is the breadbasket of Mozambique; according to the World Food Program, this puts each affected country at risk of food insecurity in some cases on par with that faced in Yemen, Syria, and South Sudan.  

In March, Mozambique, Zimbabwe, and Malawi experienced severe flooding from Cyclone Idai. Around the same time, parts of Missouri, Iowa, and Nebraska experienced devastating flooding along parts of the Missouri River system caused by heavy snowmelt and rain.  Commentators are highlighting the role that climate change played in the “bomb cyclone” in the Midwest. Scientists can link climate change to the general increase in heavy participation over time, but it is much more difficult to identify it with a single event. Some have predicted that above-average flooding will continue. To account for the scale of the destruction—some estimate over $1.3 billion in Nebraska alone—others pointed to the flood control infrastructure, which is not sufficient to contain the greatly increased rainfall of the past few years. Levees, popular flood control constructions in the United States, cannot completely reduce the risk of flooding, yet they encourage construction in floodplains, as do, among other things, federally-subsidized flood insurance and poor regulation.  With respect to Cyclone Idai, commentators point to the fact that, while there has not been an increase in the number of cyclones in the Indian Ocean in the past seventy years, the storms that do occur are more intense. Cyclone Idai is understood to be the worst cyclone on record in the region. There is virtually no flood control infrastructure in place in the African countries affected. Nigeria, for another example, frequently suffers from devastating floods as rivers overflow due to heavy seasonal rains, and has faced criticism for poor responses.   In both the American Midwest and in southeastern Africa, the flooding has led to enormous property damage, displacement of people, and loss of life. But the differences between a catastrophe in a developed country and one of the world’s poorest regions is striking. Around six hundred are reported dead due to Cyclone Idai. Some estimate that the death toll could rise dramatically, absent a major international relief effort. Thousands of those displaced are crammed into inadequate shelters with poor sanitation, increasing the likelihood of disease, and humanitarian workers are planning for the consequences of massive disruption of food chains. In the American Midwest, national media is reporting at least three deaths as of March 21. Tragic though the flooding is, there are in place disaster relief structures and provision for relief and reconstruction, mostly funded by the U.S. federal government. Nobody anticipates food shortages, and though the region affected includes rich agricultural land, nobody anticipates that there will be a major impact from the flooding on the American food supply.  There will be an international relief effort in southern Africa. USAID is already involved and the U.S. embassy in Maputo is asking the U.S. Department of Defense to mobilize a military team to support rescue efforts. Already there is a U.S. Air Force aircraft on the ground at the Maputo airport. No doubt there will be significant relief efforts from other countries. However, the question is whether international efforts will be enough and whether they will be sustained long enough. Flooding is a fact of life and climate change will make it worse. While any one country’s impact on reducing climate change, save for a handful of large polluters, will be minimal, the proper regulation of floodplains, sufficient infrastructure, and advance warning systems will help save many lives.

Several southern African states are in the news for anti-corruption efforts. In South Africa, President Cyril Ramaphosa has established a special tribunal to expedite state efforts to track down ill-gotten gains. In Mozambique, the former chief of the intelligence service and the former president’s son have been arrested in connection with a multi-billion dollar corruption scandal. In Angola, which also witnessed the arrest of a former president’s son last year, two sitting members of National Assembly from the ruling party were recently indicted on charges relating to corruption. These headlines are cheering to good governance advocates. However, in all three cases, the same party that held the reins of government when alleged corrupt practices occurred remains in power today. Southern Africa’s ruling parties are contorted in knots as they try to simultaneously protect their privileged position in the political and economic landscape while addressing the corruption that has corroded their popularity and integrity. The balancing act falls heavily on the shoulders of the region’s presidents, who must constantly calibrate how far to go in holding senior members of their own party to account, and to anticipate the invisible lines that, if crossed, would split the party or loosen their own grips on the party’s top spot. Thus, President Ramaphosa’s special tribunal will deal with cases brought by the Special Investigating Unit, which in turn investigates those cases referred by the president. It is all part of a web of authorities that allows the president considerable discretion in determining who will and will not be held accountable for past misdeeds. It remains to be seen whether the Mozambique arrests were merely responses to international pressure, useful theater before October’s elections, or whether they will lead to convictions and, finally, a full accounting for the hidden loan scandal first exposed in 2016. Many of Angolan President João Lourenço’s reforms can be understood as moves to consolidate his power and break the hold of former President José Eduardo dos Santos’s old guard—whether the state will operate in a fundamentally more transparent way going forward remains an open question—although there are some encouraging signs. Because the internal balancing act is so difficult, and so urgent, it is likely to consume most of the energy, attention, and political will of these leaders and their governments, with potentially far-reaching implications. Managing an anti-corruption drive as an internal party affair may mean missing an opportunity to strengthen democratic accountability in a country overall. Equally, as the Southern African Development Community (SADC)'s tepid response to crisis in Zimbabwe and fraudulent elections in the Democratic Republic of Congo suggests, this delicate internal work leaves little appetite for bold strokes or clear regional leadership in foreign affairs.

Ongoing negotiations between FRELIMO and RENAMO, which had resumed in 2016 following some armed conflict, have been suspended; the sticking point between the two movements appears to be the disarmament of RENAMO and the recent elections earlier this month, whose results RENAMO disputes.  Mozambique’s political life continues to be dominated by two political movements: FRELIMO, the ruling party, and RENAMO, the political and erstwhile military opposition. FRELIMO led the struggle for Mozambican independence from Portugal in 1975 and has been in power ever since, while RENAMO has been in opposition. The two movements have different ethnic bases, but the hostility between the two movements also reflected the liberation struggles elsewhere in southern Africa, especially in Rhodesia, now Zimbabwe, and apartheid South Africa. The Soviet Union supported the nominally communist FRELIMO, while Rhodesia and South Africa supported the nominally anti-communist RENAMO. The two movements fought a bloody civil war from 1977 to 1992 characterized by gross human rights violations by both sides. It ended when the Soviet Union collapsed, stopping its support for FRELIMO, and apartheid South Africa became a “non-racial” democracy, stopping its support for RENAMO. Subsequently, FRELIMO prevailed, but RENAMO remained viable and its cadres did not disarm. Nevertheless, post-civil war, the country appeared to be on a positive development trajectory, with economic growth rates as high as 8 percent per year. That ended in 2016 when the country defaulted on its loans because of irregularities in three companies allegedly controlled by the intelligence services. International financial institutions and donors suspended aid. The growth rate fell to little more than 3 percent. It is against this backdrop that elections took place.  Relieving this gloomy picture is the prospect of immense hydrocarbon wealth, primarily from natural gas. Major international companies, including Exxon Mobil (US), Eni (Italy), and SASOL (South Africa) are actively engaged, though actual oil and gas production is some years off.  There is also an Islamist extremist insurgency in northern Mozambique, along the border with Tanzania. There are reports of beheadings and that insurgents have links to al-Shabab. It is also believed that that the militants (or at least some of them) come from neighboring Tanzania. The Mozambican authorities are trying to keep the militants out of the areas of interest to the hydrocarbon companies.  There are reasonable chances that the party negotiations, led by President Filipe Nyusi and RENAMO’s Ossufo Momade, will get back on track, not least because it is in their mutual interest that they do so. Harder to predict is the trajectory of the Muslim insurgency. Is it driven primarily by local causes? Is it linked to al-Shabaab? How skillfully will the government respond? The latter question is particularly important. Elsewhere in Africa brutal and inept government responses—see Nigeria and Cameroon—have made insurgencies worse.

Welcome to “Women Around the World: This Week,” a series that highlights noteworthy news related to women and U.S. foreign policy. This week’s post, covering June 9 to June 15, was compiled with support from Lucia Petty and Rebecca Turkington.

This is a guest post by Emily Mellgard, research associate for the Council on Foreign Relations Africa Studies program. Demand for rhino horn increased exponentially over the past few years. The market is heavily concentrated in Asia, particularly Vietnam. Rhino poaching has leapt to keep pace with demand. South Africa’s rhinos are among the most affected. According to the Wildlife and Environment Society of South Africa (WESSA), in 2010, 2011, and 2012, the number of rhinos killed for their horns went from 333 to 448 to 668. So far in 2013, 216 rhinos have been poached in South Africa’s Kruger national park alone. That is more death the past five months than in the years 2000-2008 combined. The rhino population in Mozambique, which was wiped out by large game hunters a century ago and later reintroduced to the national parks, has again been eradicated; this time with the connivance of some of Mozambique’s own rangers. Convictions for poaching and trafficking in rhino horn are rare. But the U.S. attorney’s office in Los Angeles, California announced on May 16 the conviction of Vinh Chung “Jimmy” Kha, and Felix Khaon for, among other crimes, smuggling rhino horn into the United States with the intent of selling it to Vietnam. In Vietnam, and other parts of Asia, powdered rhino horn is considered a cure for everything from a headache, hangover, or cold to cancer; and is also often advertised as an aphrodisiac. It holds no such properties. In fact, rhino horn is keratin, the same substance as human hair and fingernails. Despite this, rhino horn sells for between U.S. $25,000 and $40,000 per kilogram. A Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species (CITES) conference in March 2013, appears to have invigorated the international community to act to save these great creatures. South Africa is threatening to re-erect the boundary fences between the South African and Mozambican halves of Kruger national park. Some game parks in South Africa have taken the additional measure of poisoning their rhinos’ horns to deter consumer demand. The poison is combination of a parasiticide normally used against ticks on livestock and a pink dye that can be detected by airport scanners and is visible even when in powdered form; meaning potential consumers will know what they are buying. The parasiticide is not lethal, but it does make the consumer “seriously ill.” A logical next step is campaigns to raise awareness of rhino horn’s complete lack of medicinal properties and that the animals die, horribly, through the process. Similar campaigns are running in Asia against elephant poaching. They are spearheaded by celebrities such as China’s Li Bingbing, an actress and UNEP goodwill ambassador, and retired NBA basketball player Yao Ming. These initiatives are key because they focus on a crucial truth; anti-poaching and conservation efforts must be holistic to be effective. By addressing conservation efforts not just at halting the poachers, but also in decreasing the demand for rhino horn altogether, poisoning the horns and educating consumers is an important step forward.  

Americans sometimes think that the Chinese in Africa are ten feet tall.  But, other countries are more quietly expanding their African economic and political ties:  India and South Korea come to mind.  A must-read August 8 story in the New York Times highlights the increasingly important Brazilian presence. Brazil has the largest population of African descent outside of Africa and had close links particularly with Mozambique, Angola, and Guinea Bissau during the days of the Portuguese empire. In Nigeria, a Yoruba traditional ruler told me that he regularly visited his “subjects” in Brazil’s northeast. Brasilia’s current focus on Africa, however, is much more recent.  It is usually dated from the administration of President Lula (2003-2010) and reflects Brazil’s remarkable economic development and the search for new trade and investment venues– according to the Times, Brazil has displaced Britain as the world’s sixth largest economy.  Brazil’s presence in Africa is also diplomatic – there are now thirty-six Brazilian embassies in Africa, compared with forty-four American embassies.  Brazil also has a small aid program. In my view, the expanded Brazilian interest and presence in Africa is win-win.  Brazilian trade and investment will promote African economic development.  Brazil is a democracy:  its greatly enhanced diplomatic presence can only encourage the development of African democracy conducted according to the rule of law.  And Brazil may be able to exercise positive influence in those places where there is ambiguity about the United States, such as Angola.