i

ARMIES AND DEMOCRACY IN THE NEW AFRICA:

LESSONS FROM NIGERIA AND SOUTH AFRICA

Kent Hughes Butts

and

Steven Metz

January 9, 1996
ii

*******

The views expressed in this report are those of the authors and

do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the

Department of the Army, the Department of Defense, or the U.S.

Government. This report is approved for public release; distribution

is unlimited. The authors would like to thank Ambassador Marc A. Baas,

Lieutenant Colonel John Brooks, Dr. William Stokely, Mr. James E.

Trinnaman, and Ms. Betsy Bree for insightful comments on earlier

drafts of this study.

*******

Comments pertaining to this report are invited and should be

forwarded to: Director, Strategic Studies Institute, U.S. Army War

College, Carlisle Barracks, PA 17013-5050. Comments also may be

conveyed directly to the authors. Dr. Metz can be reached by calling

(717) 245-3822, FAX (717) 245-3820, or via the Internet at

 metzs@carlisle-emh2.army.mil. Dr. Butts can be reached by calling

(717) 245-3728, FAX (717) 245-3030, or via the Internet at

buttsk@csl-emh1.army.mil. Copies of this report may be obtained from

the Publications and Production Office by calling commercial (717)

245-4133, DSN 242-4133, FAX (717) 245-3820, or via the internet at

rummelr@carlisle-emh2.army.mil.

*******

All Strategic Studies Institute (SSI) monographs are loaded on

the Strategic Studies Institute Homepage for electronic

dissemination. SSI's Homepage address is:

http://carlisle-www.army.mil/usassi/.
iii

FOREWORD

In October 1994, the Strategic Studies Institute sponsored a

roundtable on democratization in Sub-Saharan Africa. Particular

attention was paid to the role the U.S. military and Department of

Defense played in democracy support. This study developed from a paper

presented at the roundtable.

Dr. Butts and Dr. Metz reject the notion that the political

culture of African states allows or even encourages military

intervention in politics. Drawing on case studies from Nigeria and

South Africa, they contend that if the fragile democracies in SubSaharan Africa are to be sustained, African militaries must be

extricated from politics and take decisive steps toward the type of

military professionalism seen in stable democracies around the world.

U.S. national interests in Sub-Saharan Africa are so limited that

the region will receive only a very small proportion of the human,

political, military, and economic resources devoted to American

national security strategy. This makes efficiency imperative. Dr.

Butts and Dr. Metz argue that if U.S. strategic resources are used

wisely in Africa, they can have the desired effect. In particular, the

U.S. military can play an important part in helping African militaries

professionalize. They close with concrete proposals through which the

U.S. Department of Defense and the Army could more effectively support

African democratization.

The Strategic Studies Institute is pleased to offer this study as

a contribution to the ongoing debate over how the Army could better

promote U.S. national interests by helping to prevent conflicts rather

than simply responding once violence has broken out.

RICHARD H. WITHERSPOON

Colonel, U.S. Army

Director, Strategic Studies Institute
iv

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES OF THE AUTHORS

KENT HUGHES BUTTS is Professor of Political-Military Strategy at

the Center for Strategic Leadership, U.S. Army War College. Dr. Butts

has served as a strategic analyst in the Strategic Studies Institute,

U.S. Army War College and taught at the U.S. Military Academy. He has

also been a John M. Olin Postdoctoral Fellow in National Security at

the Center for International Affairs, Harvard University. Dr. Butts is

the author of The Department of Defense Role in African Policy and coauthor of Geopolitics of Southern Africa: South Africa as Regional

Superpower. He is a graduate of the U.S. Military Academy and holds an

M.B.A from Boston University and an M.A. and Ph.D. in geography from

the University of Washington. He is also a graduate of the U.S. Army

Command and General Staff College and the U.S. Army War College.

STEVEN METZ is the Henry L. Stimson Professor of Military Studies

at the U.S. Army War College. He has been with the College's Strategic

Studies Institute since 1993 and earlier served on the faculty of the

Air War College, the U.S. Army Command and General Staff College, and

several universities. He has written for journals such as African

Affairs and the Journal of Modern African Studies, and has testified

before the Senate Africa Subcommittee. He holds a B.A. and M.A. in

international studies from the University of South Carolina, and a

Ph.D. in political science from the Johns Hopkins University.
v

SUMMARY

Introduction. To the surprise of many observers, Africa has

experienced a recent wave of democratic transitions and popular

movements in support of open government. But this trend is far from

irreversible. In particular, African civil-military relations must be

reformed. The United States should play a major role in this. To do

so, American planners and policymakers must have a clear,

historically-grounded understanding of the dominant patterns of

African civil-military relations.

Nigeria. Few African nations have more potential than Nigeria,

but few have experienced greater trauma in attempts to build

democracy. Nigeria's strategic and symbolic importance make it a

bellwether for democratization in the rest of Africa.

The Nigerian military has ruled the country for most of its

independence. Beginning in 1985, the government of Major General

Babangida began a controlled transition to civilian democracy.

Although elections in June 1994 were considered the freest in Nigerian

history, Babangida annulled the results and prevented M.K.O. Abiola,

the apparent victor, from assuming office. In November 1994, General

Sani Abacha abolished an interim government and built what is often

considered the most repressive and corrupt regime in Nigeria's

history. Despite opposition from a democracy movement and

international pressure, Abacha appears entrenched while Nigeria

experiences economic collapse and teeters on the brink of ethnic war.

During the decades of military rule, the Nigerian armed forces

have lost nearly all semblance of professionalism and become

thoroughly corrupted. Senior officers all become immensely rich

through theft, while junior officers and enlisted men live in poverty.

Today, there are no civil-military relations in the normal sense of

the phrase. The military is incapable of self-reform and cannot lead

democratization. Only a radical transformation of the military and the

wholesale replacement of the officer corps could open the way to

democracy. Unfortunately, there is no force capable of doing this, and

the Nigerian political economy, in which political office is seen

primarily as a gateway to wealth, mitigate against sustainable

democracy.

South Africa. South Africa shows that African armed forces can

serve as the midwife of political change rather than its opponent.

During the transition from an apartheid to majority-rule system, the

South African Defence Force (SADF) supported the government and

promoted internal stability. It was thus one of the keys to the

success of the transition.

The current South African military enjoys a good relationship

with society and accepts civilian control. Five interrelated problems

could erode or challenge the health of civil-military relations:

• Escalating internal violence;

• Difficulties integrating the armed forces;
vi

• The military's budget crunch;

• The possibility of a radical successor to Mandela;

• Prosecution of former military officials for apartheid-era

activities.

With firm leadership and careful attention to civil-military

relations, South Africa can avoid or work through these problems and

thus consolidate democracy.

Recommendations. Sustaining democracy in Africa is possible, but

will be extraordinarily difficult. U.S. actions may not be decisive,

but can be important. Nigeria and South Africa suggest three tenets

that should guide U.S. efforts:

First, approach democracy support in a strategic fashion. Because

the political, military, and economic resources the United States is

willing to devote to Africa will remain very limited, American polices

and programs must be synchronized into a coherent strategy. To do

this, the United States should:

• Develop a strategy of democracy support for each African state.

This should be led by the State Department, but the Department of

Defense and the U.S. military can provide vital links to African

militaries and should spearhead efforts to reform African civilmilitary relations. To do this, the military must provide high-quality

personnel for Africa assignments. Rejuvenation of the Army's foreign

area officer (FAO) program would be an important contribution.

• Take a long-term perspective focusing on consolidating

democracy rather than simply instigating it. Special support should be

provided at the end of the "honeymoon" period for a new democratic

government and during the follow-on election.

• Help create an African Democracy Council composed of senior

government and nongovernment supporters of African democracy to

coordinate actions. This would serve as a forum for communication on

democratization, and as a mechanism to support democracy movements in

other states. Its liaison in the United States should be the National

Endowment for Democracy.

• Adopt a policy of zero tolerance for coups against elected

governments and actively support international efforts to politically

and economically quarantine coup-makers. Because of Nigeria's symbolic

importance, U.S. pressure should escalate and include an oil boycott.

Second, concentrate on perceptions, beliefs, and attitudes.

Because the United States will not smother Africa in aid, U.S. efforts

should concentrate on cultivating the appropriate perceptions,

beliefs, and attitudes for sustaining democracy. One of the most

important of these is civilian control of the military. To encourage

this, the United States should:
vii

• Seek the greatest possible expansion in the International

Military Education and Training program.

• Lead an effort to form a Pan-African Staff College. This should

be located in a democratic African state and be staffed with a faculty

from democracies in Africa, the Americas, Europe, and the Asia-Pacific

region.

Third, emphasize military reorganization and the development of

regional security mechanisms. To facilitate healthy civil-military

relations and improve military-society ties, the United States should:

• Encourage African states to move toward a system that combines

a small standing army with a somewhat larger reserve force.

• Encourage the formation of a NATO-like mutual security pact

composed of African democracies. By facilitating military downsizing,

aiding officer professionalization, and serving as a mechanism for

quarantining coup-makers, this organization could play an important

political and symbolic role in building a community of African

democracies.
1

ARMIES AND DEMOCRACY IN THE NEW AFRICA:

LESSONS FROM NIGERIA AND SOUTH AFRICA

Introduction.

Even when they are more caricature than accurate portrayal, the

popular myths, images, and traditions associated with political

leaders say much about the prospects of a country. In the United

States, the dominant image is probably that of a politician on the

stump, shaking hands, kissing babies, and making promises meant to be

taken with a grain of salt. While not a particularly appealing

portrait, it at least suggests that every American politician has a

deep obligation to the public. By constrast, the dominant political

image in Africa is often that of the "big man" or "president for

life," whisked by sunglassed bodyguards into a Mercedes limousine with

darkened windows, on his way to join the waiting brothers, cousins,

friends, and cronies he has appointed to government posts. At best,

leaders play the part of a benevolent and enlightened father, caring

for "their" people. At worst, they are psychotic dictators mistaking

fear for respect and power for support. Nearly always, though, wisdom

and power are the personal property of leaders, hopefully to be

exercised in a benign fashion but in reality often used for repression

or self-aggrandizement.

If images, myths, and traditions are windows on the truth,

Africa's would not seem to bode well for democracy. Luckily, though,

they suggest the future but do not determine it. As recent events in

Africa show, history's psychological fetters can be transcended.

Beginning in the late 1980s, the tide of democracy that earlier swept

Latin America, parts of the Asia-Pacific region, and much of the

former Soviet bloc reached Africa. By 1991, it "was a veritable tidal

wave, methodically transforming the political map of the continent."1

Autocratic governments were replaced by democracies in Zambia, Cape

Verde, São Tome and Principe, Benin, Madagascar, Lesotho, and Burundi.2

(See Map 1.) Overall, more than 30 countries had pro-democracy

uprisings, many leading to substantial reforms if not outright

democratization.3 For advocates of democracy, a "new Africa" seemed to

be emerging, providing fresh opportunities in a region long darkened

by violence, repression, corruption, weak leadership, and inept

governance.

Given the changes in the strategic landscape that accompanied the

end of the Cold War, many Americans sought to make democracy support

the conceptual centerpiece of U.S. foreign policy and national

security strategy.4 The Clinton administration has at least partially

embraced this notion.5

 According to the President, "working with the

new democratic states to help preserve them as democracies committed

to free markets and respect for human rights is a key part of our

national security strategy."6

 This will be more difficult in Africa

than in any other part of the world. Democracy there is far from

irreversible, the problems faced by newly elected governments,

immense. Without assistance, the trend toward open government can

easily become a temporary interregnum from dictatorship.7

 Even while

"democracy is finding its root in country after country," Anthony Lake

notes, "many African nations are but one step away from crisis."8
2

For African democracy to succeed, civil-military relations must

be reformed. Armies have long been a major obstacle to democracy in

Africa, seizing power with depressing frequency and often dominating

the political process even under civilian regimes. This tendency still

lingers in spots.9 But little by little, step by step, African

militaries are turning from enemies to promoters of democracy. The

importance of this cannot be overestimated. African militaries are and

will remain crucial political actors. "The question is not," according

to William Gutteridge, "whether armies will participate in politics

but to what extent and by what means."10 Their role in the promotion

and sustainment of Africa's fragile democracies is thus pivotal:

Africa's militaries are vital allies for any individual, state, or

organization supporting open government.

To play a role in African political reform, the United States

must hone its understanding of the forces promoting and opposing

democracy. While the ability of Americans to encourage, shape, and

influence the reform of African civil-military relations will be

limited, with focused, well-thought-out policies and programs

organized into a coherent strategy, the United States can play an

important role. By examining both successful and failed democratic

transitions and the role the military played in them, American
3

planners and policymakers can frame policies that reflect a clear,

historically-grounded understanding of African civil-military

relations and thus slightly increase the chances that open government

will be sustained.

Nigeria: The Augean Stable.

To grasp the role that African militaries should play in

democratization, it is first necessary to examine how they have

thwarted it. For this, Nigeria provides a perfect case study and a

virtual museum of pathological civil-military relations. This is a

tragedy of immense proportions. Few African nations have more promise

than Nigeria. It is the most populous nation in Sub-Saharan Africa by

far, extensive oil reserves give it a rare level of economic

potential, its military is one of the largest and most proficient on

the continent, and it is extraordinarily rich in human capital. And,

unlike some other states that have economic or military power without

the will to use them, Nigeria considers itself a model for Sub-Saharan

Africa and a spokesman for the Third World in general. It has, for

instance, participated in many U.N. peace operations including those

in the former Yugoslavia, Somalia, Cambodia, Angola, Rwanda,

Mozambique, Namibia, and Zaire.11 More recently, Nigeria formed and led

a major peacekeeping effort in Liberia and provided military advice

and training to other African states such as Gambia and Sierra Leone.12

When a Liberian peace agreement was arranged in 1995, George Obiozor,

director-general of Nigeria's official foreign policy think tank,

said, "By brokering a successful peace among the warring factions of

Liberia, Nigeria has reconfirmed her primacy in the West African subregion in particular and Africa in general."13 Nigeria currently holds

one of the rotating positions on the United Nations Security Council

and actively seeks a permanent seat.14 Strategic and symbolic

importance thus make Nigeria a bellwether for the rest of Africa.

Unfortunately, much of this potential and the immense energy of

the Nigerian people has been wasted through misgovernment. Since

independence, Nigeria has undertaken several attempts to build

democracy, but all have been thwarted by military intervention. The

army has directly ruled the country for 25 of its 35 years of

independence, and exerted a powerful influence over policymaking even

during the brief periods of civilian government. There have been seven

successful military coups and many failed ones.15 Throughout Africa,

statist economic policies, weak political institutions, and what

Samuel Decalo refers to as "an internally fractured army composed of

personal loyalty pyramids," have led to military coups.16 Nigeria

symbolizes and epitomizes the pathology of civil-military relations in

Africa.

Nigeria is an artificial state created according to colonial

exigencies rather than ethnic coherence. It has three main groups: the

largely Christian Ibo in the southeastern part of the country, the

Yoruba in the southwest, and the Muslim Hausa-Fulani in the north.

Together, these three constitute 65 percent of the Nigerian

population, with the remainder belonging to a number of minority

groups. During the colonial period the British used "indirect rule,"

leaving local political structures intact, particularly in the Muslim
4

north.17 This, along with a policy of deliberately emphasizing ethnic

differences to facilitate colonial control, inhibited the emergence of

a national identity. Ethnic competition and, often, conflict, has thus

been the preeminent political problem for Nigeria during its entire

existence. The military has often used ethnic differences to justify

intervention in politics and painted itself as the only force that can

hold the nation's fractious tendencies in check.18

The modern Nigerian military took shape during the Biafran War of

1967-70 as the army grew from a light infantry force of about 6,000 to

one of over 250,000 equipped with heavy weapons and supported by air

and naval power. The war also saw a sharp erosion in the military's

trust of civilian leadership. Despite training in the British notion

of military professionalism that stressed civilian control of the

military, the Nigerian army seized power in January 1966.19 This began

a dismal tradition of military intervention in politics. In 1975

General Yakubu Gowon, who had ruled Nigeria since late 1966, was

overthrown by reformist senior officers and a new regime headed by

Brigadier Murta Muhammed began a managed transition to democracy.20 He

purged the military and civilian bureaucracy of many inefficient or

corrupt officials and instigated a five-stage program for restoring

civilian, democratic government. The first steps were creation of new

states to better distribute political power among the ethnic groups

and the writing of a new constitution (modeled after the American).21

The culmination was the transfer of power to an elected government in

1979. Although Muhammed was assassinated during a failed coup in

February 1976, his successor, General Olusegun Obsanjo, completed the

transition.

Despite (or because of) the opportunities provided by the oil

wealth flowing into Nigeria during the Second Republic, the civilian

government proved massively corrupt and ineffective. Much of the oil

money was squandered on useless projects or stolen by corrupt

officials, their patrons, cronies, and families.22 When the military

again seized power on December 31, 1983, there was celebration

throughout the country.23 Major General Muhammadu Buhari, the new head

of state, launched a "war against indiscipline" which met with initial

approval, but its repressiveness soon eroded the regime's popularity.24

On August 27, 1985, Buhari was overthrown by army chief of staff Major

General Ibrahim Babangida. According to Habibu Idris Shuaibu, a

Nigerian officer who had backed Babangida, the driving force behind

the coup was not the public's discontent or desire for democracy, but

Buhari's failure to appoint junior and middle ranking officers to

political office.25

Babangida instigated a second managed transition to democracy

designed to avoid the problems that plagued the earlier transition.

All previous Nigerian political leaders were considered tainted and

banned from involvement. And, exhibiting no lack of hubris, the

military regime sought to craft nothing less than a new Nigerian

political culture devoid of corruption and ethnic conflict.26 In

practical terms, Babangida's greatest innovation may have been the

creation of a mandatory two-party system.27 Throughout Africa, the

serious shortcomings of both one-party and multi-party systems were

evident. Having one slightly-left-of-center and one slightly-right-of-
5

center party was seen as a palliative (and was a direct emulation of

the American political system). Babangida attempted for the first time

in Nigerian history to disperse real political power to local

governments and deliberately encourage political mobilization through

education and political awareness activities. And, recognizing the key

role that the competence and effectiveness of civilian officials

played in democratization, the military government created a Centre

for Democratic Studies to help train local elected officials.

 Mismanagement of the economy and endemic corruption during the

Second Republic had led to economic crisis and a precipitous decline

in living standards. By the time the military seized power in 1983,

Nigeria had amassed an external debt equal to gross domestic product,

and suffered widespread unemployment, underutilizied industrial

capacity, high inflation, substantial budget deficits, and a declining

currency exchange rate.28 Babangida attempted to ameliorate this

through an economic emergency involving pay cuts and a reduction of

government subsidies, currency devaluation, privatization,

deregulation, and acceptance of an economic adjustment program

designed by the International Monetary Fund and World Bank.29

Unfortunately, these badly needed steps complicated democratization as

the hardships imposed on the Nigerian public eroded support for the

government. Corruption quickly returned and even escalated. Dr. Pius

Okigbe, a Nigerian economist, estimates that $12.2 billion of the

$12.4 billion in oil revenues the nation received during the Gulf

crisis were stolen.30 By the end of the 1980s, Nigeria had fallen from

a middle income country with a per capita income of around $1000 per

year to one of the world's poorest, with an estimated per capita

income of $250.31

Babangida recognized that Nigerian democracy would be

unsustainable without serious reform of civil-military relations and

professionalization of the officer corps.32 He quickly found that this

was easier said than done. After nearly 20 years of involvement in

politics, all memory of British-instilled military professionalism had

faded. Nigeria faced no serious external or internal security threat

to provide the incentive for professionalization. And Babangida's use

of officers as political administrators gave them a taste of

corruption's rewards. By the early 1990s, then, it was no longer

possible to classify officers as "political" or "professional" since

only a tiny minority remained outside the patronage system.33

Throughout Babangida's rule, military morale and self-image

declined precipitously. An organizational pattern emerged in which

corrupt senior "military godfathers" built and used networks of lower

ranking clients.34 Junior officers without a patron were unhappy with

the system, but this was often due less to commitment to the national

interest than personal jealousy and resentment of their exclusion. For

enlisted personnel, conditions were dire. While most senior leaders

were multimillionaires living in mansions and driving Mercedes, lower

ranks were victimized by Nigeria's economic collapse and lived in

crushing poverty.35 The handful of officers who did seem committed to

democratization and the broader national interest were coopted or

eliminated.36 A failed coup in 1990 signalled the cancerous condition

of the military and sparked suspicion, fear, and purges.37 Growing
6

ethnic conflict also heightened schisms within the military. While the

majority of army officers were southern or middle-belt Christians, the

military had long been dominated by northern Muslims. This was a

source of deep resentment by non-northern officers and civilian

elites. Both Muslim and Christian fundamentalism had been growing for

some time in Nigeria, largely as a response to wider social decay.38

Following Babangida's 1986 decision to seek full membership for

Nigeria in the Organization of Islamic Conferences, religious tensions

flared, particularly in the middle and northern segments of the

country. More than 5000 died in religious violence between 1990 and

1994, with 1000 killed in April 1991 alone during riots in Kaduna and

Bauchi states.39

"Probably no democratic transition," Larry Diamond writes, "has

ever been beset by such a massive gap between the elaborateness of its

engineering and the cynicism of the public's expectations."40 Events

justified this. As preparation for the final stage of the transition--

election of a national president and a handover of power from the

military--approached, Babangida became increasingly "corrupt,

manipulative, unpredictable, ambitious, unreliable and uninterested in

leaving office."41 Although he initially promised to restore civilian

rule by 1990, Babangida eventually postponed the turnover four times.42

The presidential campaign between Moshood Abiola of the center-left

Social Democratic Party (SDP) and Bashir Tofa of the center-right

National Republican Convention (NRC) failed to generate public

enthusiasm. Most Nigerians considered the election simply one more in

a long series of charades staged by the elite. Neither Abiola and Tofa

were known as political leaders and both were considered allies of

Babangida by some analysts.43 The general's obsessive desire to control

the political transformation and his endless manipulation of the

process further jaded Nigerians. Corruption and vote-rigging during

the presidential primaries "alienated virtually the entire

electorate."44

The system of political economy that emerged in Nigeria after the

first oil boom of the early 1970s added to the perception that the

election had little or nothing to do with empowering the public. In

it, political power and wealth were coterminous. Whoever controlled

the state controlled government contracts, particularly those dealing

with petroleum. Political influence was not only one means of

enriching one's self, family, and friends, it was the only way. This

made running for office a simple business transaction. A candidate and

his clients invested in an electoral bid with the full expectation

that they would profit a thousandfold through victory.45 In such an

environment, winning an election was the only thing that mattered;

building the nation and serving public interests were irrelevant. The

military, rather than attempting to mitigate this, became one more

clique (or cluster of cliques) with a vested interest in the system.

Put simply, officers who partook of corruption did not want to see the

system changed in a fundamental way; those outside the system did not

have the power to change it.

 Still, democratization lurched onward. The election on June 12,

1993, was widely considered the freest and most honest in Nigeria's

history.46 Although voter turnout was less than 50 percent, M.K.O.
7

Abiola appeared to have won a clear victory with support from across

the nation. But the transfer of power never took place. During the

period leading up to the elections, an organization called the

Association for a Better Nigeria, composed of wealthy businessmen,

politicians, and some high-ranking military officers, ran a highly

visible campaign urging Babangida to retain power.47 This group won a

court order requiring the National Electoral Commission to withhold

election results until charges of vote rigging were investigated. On

June 23, Babangida annulled the elections "to save our judiciary from

being ridiculed and politicized locally and internationally."48 The

general announced that a civilian government would be installed on

August 27 as initially planned, but that new elections would be held

with Abiola and Tofa, the original candidates, ineligible.49 Supporters

of democracy both inside and outside Nigeria immediately rejected this

plan.

There were two prevalent explanations for Babangida's annulment

of the elections.50 One was that he was pressured by the group of

senior military officers who realized that their opportunity to

accumulate wealth would diminish under a civilian government, and who

believed Abiola would punish them for past corruption and abuses of

human rights. Second was that Babangida was pressured by or responding

to the needs of the Hausa-Fulani elites both inside and outside the

military who feared that the election of Abiola--who was a Muslim, but

a Yoruba--would signal the end of northern domination of Nigeria. What

was never clear was why the general waited until after widely observed

elections took place to act. One explanation for this is simply the

arrogance and poor grasp of political reality that comes to despots.

Babangida may have so concentrated power that he had become convinced

that there were no limits on his ability to manipulate the political

system. Another is that he assumed the elections would be so blatantly

tainted that the Nigerian public would demand that the military

government retain power or that new elections be held. In any case,

the general clearly underestimated the furor that his actions would

provoke.

The annulment immediately unified the diverse democratic

coalition in Nigeria. "For the first time in Nigeria's political

history," Rotimi and Ihonvbere wrote, "pro-democracy organisations,

non-governmental organisations and individuals, cutting across

religious, gender, regional and class lines came out to insist on the

need to respect the will of the people."51 The democratic movement was

centered on an array of institutions including the press, professional

associations, university faculty and students, and the labor

movement.52 While the annulment was generally welcomed in the northern

part of Nigeria and accepted with cynical fatalism in the eastern, Ibo

regions, widespread demonstrations broke out in the southwest. Tens of

thousands protested in Lagos, and were violently suppressed by the

military.53 For Yorubas, the annulment seemed to indicate the HausaFulani would never surrender political power.54 It also suggested the

northern elite continued to see the military as a prime tool of ethnic

domination.55

The annulment also exacerbated a split in the military between

supporters and opponents of democracy. At the end of June, 30 colonels
8

and brigadiers retired to protest the annulment. Harvard-educated

Colonel Abubakar Umar--a former state governor and thus a beneficiary

of the corruption and patronage system--typified the disgust when he

stated, "the Nigerian military as represented by our present

leadership has become a stumbling block to the development of the

nation's democracy."56 But few of the civilian elites, including

elected officials, voiced open support for Abiola. In part, this was

due to fear of Babangida's security apparatus, but also reflected the

extent to which civilian leaders had developed a vested interest in

the web of corruption. While conditions were abysmal for the average

Nigerian, the elite suffered little and therefore saw no need for

fundamental change. Wealth immunized them from the near-total collapse

of the educational and health systems, dramatic inflation, widespread

unemployment, disintegration of the infrastructure, and the endemic

crime--much of it drug-related--that made the life of the Nigerian

public miserable.57

Even though there was no groundswell of backing for Abiola

outside Lagos and the Yoruba regions, support for Babangida collapsed

after the annulment. Protest spread and thousands of Nigerians who

lived outside their ethnic region returned home, anticipating conflict

between Yorubas and Hausa-Fulani.58 On August 26, Babangida resigned

and turned over power to an interim government led by Ernest Shonekan,

a Harvard-educated businessman. While the democratic movement welcomed

this, the interim government was composed exclusively of Babangida's

friends and allies and indicated that it would rule by military

decree. Democracy thus seemed no closer than before. Shonekan

attempted to win public approval by freeing some political prisoners,

lifting press restrictions, and indicating a willingness to dismantle

the powerful and corrupt oil industry bureaucracy, but his attempts to

gain support from the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund

led to a massive increase in fuel prices and sparked even more

protests.59 Even Nigerians who were thoroughly cynical about the

democratization and cared little about annulment of the elections were

directly threatened by the price increases, and quickly expressed

their opposition through street protests and strikes .

On November 17, Shonekan was fired by Defense Minister Sani

Abacha who was widely considered the dominant force in the interim

government. Abacha was a thoroughly political officer--he had been a

major participant in the 1983 and 1985 coups--and had become massively

wealthy through graft.60 One report called him "the most corrupt

individual ever to succeed in taking over a country."61 Facing

disintegrating public order, economic chaos, and the specter of ethnic

conflict or civil war, Abacha dismantled the democratic institutions

created under Babangida, abolished the national and state assemblies,

dissolved the two political parties, replaced all elected state

governors with appointees, and banned political meetings and

associations.62 There were fears that the military, having lost all

credibility as the protector of the national interest, would

disintegrate into warring factions centered around powerful senior

leaders.63 But, as a master political manipulator, Abacha recognized

the need to divide and stifle opponents. Confusion and contradiction

were his primary tools. He made a rhetorical commitment to restarting

the transition to civilian rule and lifted the media bans that
9

Babangida had implemented.64 He then named a diverse cabinet with both

military and civilian members, and promised a constitutional forum and

a program of economic reforms.65 He purged a number of Babangida

loyalists in the military, including nine brigadiers.66 And even while

he banned the political parties that Babangida created, Abacha

promised to allow real parties with grassroots support to emerge after

the national constitutional conference completed its work.67

Even if Abacha was sincere about political reform--which is

highly questionable--he was quickly distracted by mounting crises.

Decades of mismanagement and corruption had set the stage; the

annulment of the June 1993 elections seemed to have been the spark

that lit the fire. Two problems were particularly pressing. One was

economic collapse. After abandoning the unpopular austerity and

adjustment program, Babangida had returned to extensive state control

of the economy. The rationale behind this was obvious. The general

needed statism in order to coopt political opponents by providing them

the opportunity for corruption, and he needed to subsidize basic goods

to forestall a popular uprising. In effect, Babangida mortgaged

Nigeria's economic future for political expediency. By the time Abacha

seized power, conditions had become so dire--100 percent inflation, a

nearly worthless currency, shortages of basic goods--that a popular

uprising appeared possible.

The second (and related) problem facing Abacha was ethnic

tension. Economic difficulties and mismanagement fueled this, as

minority tribes in the oil producing regions of the south and

southeast protested that petroleum revenues inordinately benefited the

northern political and military elite. This led to government

repression so brutal that international human rights organizations

feared genocide of groups like the Ogoni.68 Other minorities such as

the Ijaw, Itsekiri, and Urhobo also expressed discontent with

government indifference to environmental degradation and the lack of

development in their regions.69 At the same time, tensions between

Muslims and non-Muslims, which had simmered throughout Nigeria's

history, seemed ready to explode. In the predominately Muslim cities

of the north, there were numerous religiously-motivated attacks and

riots and, in Lagos, leaflets were circulated calling for a jihad

against Christians.70

After a brief lull, opposition to military rule intensified. In

June 1994, on the first anniversary of the annulled elections, Abiola

declared himself president and was soon arrested and charged with

treason.71 In July and August, the labor movement, led by the National

Union of Petroleum and Natural Gas Workers, mounted a strike in

support of Abiola that brought economic life in Lagos to a

standstill.72 The government responded with violence and, when the

strike failed to spread outside the southwest section of Nigeria, its

leaders called it off.73 General Abacha used the strike to further

consolidate personal power.74 In August, he fired the commanders of the

army and navy, reportedly because they wanted to negotiate with Abiola

to seek an end to the crisis.75 In September, Abacha issued a decree

assuming absolute power and closing most newspapers, including the

influential Guardian.76 He then eliminated all civilians from his

government.77 In December, Abacha ended a long tradition of judicial
10

independence in Nigeria by suspending habeas corpus.78 Abacha formed a

constitutional conference, but few democratic activists considered it

anything other than a sham.79 The general's primary technique was to

weaken, divide, and confuse opponents by simultaneously combining

reform (or the illusion of reform) with repression. While purging all

civilians from the regime, for instance, Abacha stated, "the

commitment of this administration to full democratic rule is

unequivocal."80

By the spring of 1995 opposition to Abacha erupted in the

military. There were frequent coup rumors and 150 officers were

arrested.81 As many as 400 were detained; some may have been tortured.82

Forty purported plotters, including widely-respected former head of

state Olusegun Obasanjo--the only Nigerian military dictator to

peacefully return power to civilians--were thought to have been

sentenced to death, generating a storm of international protest.

External pressure also heightened. The governments of the United

States and Great Britain took firm stands. Jimmy Carter visited Abacha

to secure Obasanjo's release, while African leaders such as Robert

Mugabe, Yoweri Museveni, and Nelson Mandela attempted to intercede on

Obasanjo's part.83 In November, international condemnation surged as

Nigeria executed nine environmental and human rights activists,

including well-known writer Ken Saro-Wiwa.84 The Commonwealth suspended

Nigeria while the Organization of African Unity condemned the

executions.85 Earlier, TransAfrica, the African-American lobbying

organization that had formed the centerpiece of the American

antiapartheid movement, launched a campaign against Nigeria's military

regime and sought an oil boycott--its first serious protest against a

black African government.86 Support for this grew throughout 1995. As

the editors of the New York Times wrote, "That is a drastic step, but

it begins to look like the only way to slow General Abacha's ruinous

course."87 The Clinton administration initially rejected the idea of a

boycott, but by the end of 1995 Assistant Secretary of State George

Moose indicated that this was being reconsidered in the wake of the

execution of Ken Saro-Wiwa.88

Even though opposition to the Abacha regime has blossomed outside

Nigeria, within the country effective repression by the regime has

stifled dissent, leaving only numbness and apathy among the public.89

According to Michael Ajasin, a former state governor and leader of the

National Democratic Coalition, "If you organize demonstrations here,

[the] government will use any of its forces to kill people. We are

tired of bloodshed."90 Abacha rarely appeared in public over concern

for his security, and his rapid shifting of government officials

heightened corruption as officeholders felt they had to steal quickly

since their tenure was short.91 Anticipating demonstrations and

violence on the second anniversary of the annulled elections, the

regime launched another crackdown.92 Whether because of this or general

political malaise, June 1995 was much less volatile than June 1994,

with a stay-at-home strike in Lagos the only major problem. Today

Abacha's strategy of deliberate confusion continues as he

simultaneously pursues the most systematic repression in Nigeria's

history while claiming to seek a return to civilian rule. In a nationwide speech in October 1995, for instance, he commuted the death

sentences of some of his political opponents, lifted the ban on some
11

newspapers, and stated that he would hand over power to an elected

government in 3 years but, at the same time, refused to show leniency

for the jailed M.K.O. Abiola.93 And, despite having named Yoruba

officers to two of the top four positions in the military, ethnic

tension remains serious.94

Today, there are no civil-military relations in Nigeria in the

sense of discrete military and civilian institutions with a structured

relationship. There is no discernible difference between the corrupt,

co-opted senior military leadership and the equally corrupt and coopted civilian elite. Abacha's dictum that "during the transition

period, particular attention will be made to the orientation of the

military to inculcate the spirit of subordination to the civil

authority" is utterly ludicrous considering the general's extensive

involvement in coups and political intervention.95 While the Nigerian

military retains a warfighting capability that makes it a major

regional power, officer professionalism in the western sense of

holding politics at arm's length has totally disappeared from

Nigeria's senior ranks despite Babangida's efforts to engineer it

during his rule. While the threat of a coup from junior officers

persists, if it occurs, it will most likely be driven by the plotters'

desire for personal aggrandizement and the desire to replace old

thieves with new thieves. The military is incapable of self-reform and

cannot lead successful democratization; civil-military relations are

beyond reform. As Africanist Claude Welch phrases it, "Nothing less

than a revolution in attitudes will suffice."96 The only way that

democracy can be built and sustained is through a radical

transformation of the military to include the wholesale replacement of

the officer corps.

Alone, though, even this is not enough. Pathological civilmilitary relations in Nigeria are only a symptom of deeper

malignancies. The biggest obstacle to democratization is the system of

political economy that makes political power and wealth coterminous.

So long as government office and corruption are the major--indeed, the

only--routes to wealth, democracy will not work. Supporters of

democracy within and outside Nigeria must transform civil-military

relations, but there must be simultaneous and equally profound change

in political economy and political culture. Finding a way to do this

without provoking national fragmentation, revolution, civil war, and a

human disaster of vast proportions is an immense, perhaps impossible,

task.97

South Africa: A Dangerous Dawn.

If Nigeria suggests that African civil-military relations can

degenerate to the point that radical transformation is a prerequisite

for democratization, South Africa shows that African armed forces can

play the opposite role and midwife the birth of open government. The

South African military has long been respected as Africa's most

proficient and professional military force. Despite this, the

military's acceptance of apartheid's demise was not preordained. There

were rumors of a rift between hardliners and moderates, talk of a

possible mutiny, and even whispers of a coup led by lower-ranking

officers.98 An investigation by Richard Goldstone, an eminent South
12

African jurist, uncovered an organized movement within the military

and police to discredit the ANC during the transition process.99 While

President F.W. de Klerk reacted strongly and dismissed or suspended 23

white military officers (including 6 generals), this showed the

military's potential to hinder the emergence of democratic, majority

rule.100

Yet today, the South African Defense Force (SADF), now known as

the South African National Defense Force (SANDF) is a key component of

the nation's political system and remains essential for the longevity

of the government. What accounts for this dramatic transition from a

protector of apartheid to a protector of majority rule? Part of the

explanation lies with the function of the military in the apartheid

system. The white minority government used the SADF to support the

police in maintaining internal security and performing civil works and

management functions in black townships. After former Minister of

Defense P.W. Botha became prime minister (later president) of South

Africa in 1977, the military's influence in policymaking became so

extensive that some scholars talked of the "militarization" of

politics.101 But in contrast to the military praetorianism common in the

rest of Africa, the SADF was invited to assume a major role in

national policymaking rather than imposing itself on civilian

leaders.102 In contrast to other African armed forces, the SADF never

developed a corporatist ethic that sees the military as an

organization with its own interests separate from the rest of society,

and eschewed the ethical justification of involvement in politics that

is so common in the region.103 Although the military's influence on

government policies waned during the De Klerk presidency, it remained

important.104

With the demise of apartheid and the establishment of the multiethnic Mandela government, the relationship of the SADF/SANDF to

civilian leaders changed. President Mandela appointed Joe Modise as

head of the ANC's military wing, Unkhonto we Sizwe (MK) as Minister of

Defense while naming Communist Party member Ronnie Kasrils Deputy

Minister.105 A Defense Secretariat was created, through which the

uniformed head of the Defense Force was to report to the Minister of

Defense. A relatively liberal Afrikaner, Lieutenant General (retired)

Pierre Steyn became head of the Defense Secretariat and was assigned

to work on budgetary issues and long-term policy leaving the head of

the Defense Force to concentrate on military operations, intelligence,

training, and discipline.106 While the Defense Secretary and head of the

Defense Force are technically equals, this still-developing new

bureaucracy further diluted the policymaking role of the military and

forced the heads of the Defense Force to report to the head of the

Defense Secretariat for the first time. In much of Sub-Saharan Africa,

such a fall in the military's influence over national policy, when

combined with a socio-political transformation that much of the

officer corps did not welcome, would have sparked a coup. In South

Africa, the military acceded to this remarkable transformation.

The architects of the post-apartheid South African state have

been keenly aware of the importance of retaining healthy civilmilitary relations based on civilian control of the military.

According to Article 31 of the Constitution of Republic of South
13

Africa, "The Security Forces as a whole, shall be required to perform

their functions and exercise their powers in the national interest and

shall be prohibited from furthering or prejudicing party political

interest."107 A June 1995 defense white paper states: "Stable civilmilitary relations depend to a great extent on the professionalism of

the armed forces."108 To cultivate professionalism and the acceptance of

civilian rule by the military, the armed forces are developing an

educational program on the role of the military in a democracy that

will be given all members of the military.

In a broader sense, the SANDF's relationship with society has

changed very little since the transition to a new government and

reflects mutual respect. Under apartheid the military supported

apartheid mainly by destabilizing regional governments and striking

guerilla targets outside the Republic.109 Its involvement in violence

within the nation was critical, but sporadic. As a result, the SADF

was less politically tainted than the South African Police (SAP).110 The

SADF presence in the black townships was often in support of civic

action projects, thus leaving a relatively positive feeling on the

part of the people toward the SADF.111 During the election process, the

SADF was able to mitigate violence and gain respect for strength of

will, evenhandedness, and political acumen. Thus, the SANDF inherited

a positive relationship with society as a whole and is respected for

remaining above the fray of domestic politics. But today South

Africa's troubles have abated, not ended. Five interrelated problems

could erode or challenge the health of civil-military relations:

internal violence; difficulties in integrating the armed forces; the

military's budget crunch; the possibility of a radical successor to

Nelson Mandela; and, the possibility of investigations leading to the

prosecution of former military officials for apartheid-era activities.

Internal Violence. South Africa's internal security situation

remains unsettled and, in some instances, has worsened since the 1994

election. Political violence between Zulu and ANC vigilantes in

Kwazulu/Natal and the assassination of policemen are examples.

Moreover, the schisms between the various black political parties and

even segments of the African National Congress, complemented by

illegal strikes and the presence of a heavily politicized, violent,

uneducated and largely unskilled group of young black men in the urban

townships--the so-called "lost generation" that grew out of the

resistance struggle against apartheid--can spark political protest and

instability should President Mandela's social policies fail.

Currently, the police cannot provide internal security for the country

without the assistance of the SANDF. The military's reaction to an

increase in violence would be a crucial determinant of the success or

failure of open government.

The African National Congress came to power in a coalition with

the South African Communist Party (SACP) and the Council of South

African Trade Unions (COSATU). All three organizations used easily

manipulated, young, urban blacks to create a system of political

violence that successfully pressured the former white regime.112 Nelson

Mandela has not fully tamed the radicals in these groups nor provided

adequate opportunities for the "lost generation." COSATU continues to

back widespread strikes that have paralyzed some of the nation's major
14

industries, while the SACP and some ANC leaders, including party

Secretary General Cyril Ramaphosa, have criticized government policies

along racial and ethnic lines, often suggesting that government

industrial policies benefit whites to the continued exclusion of

blacks.113

Even more disturbing is the persistence of ANC self-defense units

(SDUs), which have rejected calls by Nelson Mandela and others to

disarm. These are the military arms of local ANC political units and

constitute a major source of power for party radicals.114 Armed with

AK47s, SDUs have taken over police stations, spearheaded the violent

conflict between the ANC and Inkhata Freedom Party in Kwazulu/Natal,

and often prevented the police from increasing their influence in

urban areas where, to quote President Mandela, "Powerful syndicates. .

. are on the verge of taking over, and dictating to the masses of the

people how they should behave themselves."115 Natal, in particular, is

facing a virtual civil war between local warlords.116 Should the

government fail in its efforts to disarm the SDUs, other political

vigilante groups, and quasi-political criminal gangs, it may find that

political opposition, even from within its ANC ranks, is militarily

powerful enough to veto local government policies.

Therefore, the potential exists that the SANDF could be ordered

to fight urban warfare against local warlords. This would place

tremendous strain on the SANDF's unity. The military is fully aware of

this. According to the 1995 defense white paper, "SANDF troops are

currently employed on a widespread basis in support of the SAPS...such

employment is likely to persist for some time because of on-going

public violence and the relative shortage of police personnel.

Nevertheless, the history of South Africa and many other countries

suggests that it is inappropriate to utilise armed forces in a

policing role on a permanent or semi-permanent basis."117 The problem is

finding a way to extricate the military from this mission without

opening the floodgates of anarchy.

The Integration Process. South Africa civil-military relations

are shaped by tension among three contrasting institutional traditions

and their associated perceptions, attitudes, and beliefs. The first of

these is that of the white officer corps which has no history of

coups. Second is the ANC/PAC tradition that reflects Soviet bloc

commissar-based training.118 In this, the military was simply the armed

component of the ruling party. Overt, deliberate politicization of the

army was considered normal and appropriate. The third tradition is the

more "typical" African one of the officers from the former black

homelands such as Bophutswana. For them, direct or indirect

intervention in politics is the norm; many have engaged in successful

and failed coups. They have had little impact on the SANDF.119 According

to General Georg Miering, chief of the SANDF, the SADF tradition of

civil-military relations has dominated the SANDF so far.120 That is good

news. Although at this point there is no indication that the SANDF

intends any fundamental adjustment of its relationship with the

government, the potential must be considered in light of the

inevitable clash among the three traditions.

Under its current leadership the military is unlikely to take
15

revolution to the streets or threaten the government. This may change

as the highly politicized MK cadres and members of coup-prone defense

forces of the former tribal homelands assume senior SANDF positions.

The current SANDF leaders, though, seem to have inherited the SADF's

belief in civilian control of the armed forces through "objective"

means based on military professionalism and abstention from politics.121

But as both the military and civilian elites become more

heterogeneous, the government may manipulate ethnic rivalries to

control the armed forces. In a country encompassing several large

black groups, Asians, coloreds, and white groups, each with distinct

cultural norms, the politicization of ethnic conflict will always

tempt power mongers. The old SADF was itself a complex organization.

It included black Portuguese-speaking, Bushman and Zulu battalions as

well as Afrikaner-speaking and English-speaking white units. Although

generally led by white officers, units maintained their distinct

identities and were effective, in part, because of their cultural

homogeneity and the skills inherent in those cultures. Bringing in the

inadequately trained and inexperienced MK and PAC military personnel

while simultaneously demobilizing culturally distinct units is

difficult, with the potential for mutinies or intra-group violence

always present.122

There is also a possibility that South Africa may follow the

pattern of many of its African neighbors and turn military advancement

into an ethnic spoils system, giving most leadership positions to

Xhosa officers. If so, the SANDF may become vulnerable to political

manipulation by the heavily Xhosa government or lose its legitimacy

among other black ethnic groups such as the Zulu. Domestic security

missions might then be problematic if, for example, a Xhosa-dominated

SANDF attempted to suppress ethnic violence in Kwazulu/Natal. Taking

on a politically sensitive internal mission could well forfeit the

goodwill that the society as a whole now ascribes to the SANDF.

Against this backdrop, the SANDF continues the difficult

transformation into a post-apartheid force. Integrating multiple black

political parties and ethnic groups into a largely Afrikaner-led

defense force should be a difficult process. The differences in

cultural norms on a purely personal level are profound, as are the

organizational norms that the various groups bring to the integration

process. The cultural problems associated with integration have

already been manifest, surprisingly from the ANC's own MK cadre.

Approximately 22,000 MK members were to join the SANDF; this inflated

number included thousands of young, uneducated city toughs pressed

into the service of the ANC during the run-up to the election, and who

never served in the MK when it was a military force in exile. Over

5,000 members of this group, which Mr. Mandela himself says has been

"infiltrated by people who want to destabilize this process and by

sheer criminals," have embarrassed the government by going absent

without leave twice during efforts to provide them basic training.123

Unlike the PAC cadre, which are largely given good marks for

their performance in military training, many of the MKs had an

unrealistic view of what positions they should be given and what

training they require to assume positions in the SANDF.124 White

military leaders cringed at the idea of putting rag-tag thugs and
16

toughs into the SANDF with no training and for only the political

purpose of meeting integration requirements.125 If a solution that

maintains standards is not worked out and unqualified MK are allowed

to assume important positions, there could be a widespread abdication

of white military leadership and the rapid evolution of the SANDF into

a politicized, paper Army unable to execute an internal security

mission. The abject failure of the National Peacekeeping Force formed

to keep order during the 1994 election does not bode well for future

efforts.126 Conversely, if the large numbers of unsuitable MK are

dismissed, they will likely swell the ranks of the SDUs and exacerbate

urban township security problems.

Thus far the process is going fairly well. As of August 1995, the

former opposition accounted for 11 generals, 1,100 officers and

approximately 15,000 soldiers of the new SANDF, albeit with a

lessening of standards. Given the continued problems with SDUs and

continued criticism and strikes by former allies, the Mandela

government may have to choose between speeding the integration process

and dropping SANDF standards, and maintaining an efficient, tough

security force capable of arresting the political violence that shows

every evidence of continuing.127

The Military Budget Crunch. Nelson Mandela is wisely attempting

to leave in place the capitalist market economy of the former

government but recognizes that it is necessary to make good on

campaign promises and demonstrate to the majority black population

that a black government can seriously address their needs. His method

for doing so is the regional development plan (RDP), the 5-year, $11

billion effort primarily aimed at providing housing for large numbers

of black urban dwellers.128 In the absence of meaningful international

financial support, Mr. Mandela's government has been forced to fund

this plan through budget cuts. The SANDF has felt its share of the

budget ax. According to a senior military officer, defense spending

fell by half between 1989 and 1994.129 While this is logical in the

context of defused regional tensions, the funding required to maintain

equipment and acquire new weapons systems has largely evaporated.

Moreover, the politically sensitive integration of PAC and ANC

military forces into the Defense Force cost an estimated 132 million

rand (approximately $36.3 million).130 This integration is a test of the

strength of the new government. Should it be perceived as being

unnecessarily delayed or unsuccessful, the Mandela government will

lose important political credits with the left wing of the ANC and

other black African political parties. Recognizing this, Minister of

Defense Modise went to Parliament to ask for more short-term funding

to support integration and promised he would be "fighting like a lion"

to prevent further defense cuts.131

While money for integration has been forthcoming, under the

current political and economic situation the SANDF will continue to

compete with social programs for the funds necessary to maintain

operational effectiveness. Substantial economic resources are needed

to sustain the transition from an all-white led Army to a multiethnic, multi-political partied defense force. For the current fiscal

year, nearly 2 million rand were added to the military budget to

facilitate the integration process. At the same time, the government
17

faces a myriad of other financial demands associated with the

construction of a post-apartheid economy and society. The SANDF finds

itself facing budget reductions at the same time that the price of

integration is mounting. The SANDF budget had been dropping at

approximately 12 percent per year since the beginning of the decade, a

trend Minister of Defense Modise considers incompatible with the

integration process.132 However, the RDP, which received 5 billion rand

of the 150 billion rand 1995-96 budget, will continue to place extreme

demands on government resources, to include the defense budget.133 At

some point, the government may have to choose between maintaining

military standards and achieving the goals of the Regional Development

Plan. The budgetary process could well hurt the military more than

internal dissent.

 The Possibility of a Radical Successor to Nelson Mandela. Since

being elected, President Mandela's health has been a major concern for

those following the South African government's development. While the

septuagenarian leader has broad trans-ethnic respect, his potential

successors do not. Given the ANC's broad-based popularity and growing

strength in Kwazulu/Natal, it is likely that his successor will come

from within the party. Arguably, the two most likely candidates are

Deputy President Thabo Mbeki and Cyril Ramaphosa, ANC secretarygeneral and president of the Constitutional Assembly. Neither has the

potential to replace President Mandela as a centripetal figure of

national unity, nor unquestioned support within the ANC.

Thabo Mbeki, who focuses on international affairs and receives

good marks from foreign observers and many business leaders, is not

popular with the left-of-center elements of the ANC who are

influential in the urban areas. Cyril Ramaphosa, who lost out to Mbeki

for a key cabinet post, is former head of the powerful National Union

of Mineworkers. However, he carries the disadvantage of not being a

Xhosa in the heavily Xhosa ANC. Although both men are responsible

leaders who recognize the importance of white business interests to a

prosperous South Africa and would be likely to carry on the Mandela

concept of reconciliation, they may not have the opportunity. The

average black South African has seen little economic improvement since

Mandela has been in power. Of the 41 million South Africans, only 35

percent are "economically active," and in the economic hub of Gauteng

Province there is 40 percent unemployment.134

These figures are unlikely to improve. Because of the ANC's

policy of "liberation before education" during the struggle against

apartheid, many young urban blacks are illiterate, trained in

violence, view weapons as the only source of power and, as the MK

recruits' experience with the SANDF demonstrates, have unrealistic

expectations of what a black-run government can deliver. Given the

high black birth rate, competition from the millions of illegal aliens

seeking wealth in South Africa, and the irresponsible strike policies

of the major union, economic growth sufficient to mollify black

demands will be difficult, perhaps impossible. Further, in spite of

the availability of funding in the budget, the government-run RDP is

foundering on the shoals of inefficient government bureaucracy and

"near chaos" in regional government.135 The economic and social

realities fuel the flames of radical rhetoric and set the stage for
18

the emergence of a left-of-center, charismatic and autocratic black

leader. This would place great stress on the SANDF. The political

unity of South Africa itself after Mandela is not a foregone

conclusion. Schisms within the SANDF resulting from the emergence of a

radical national leader could be the precipitant of national

fragmentation.

Prosecution of former military officials for apartheid-era

activities. The issue of amnesty for crimes committed before the

election of the current Government of National Unity is a bitter and

divisive one and has largely been avoided by the Mandela government as

it sought to unify a multi-cultural country. Blacks oppressed by the

enforcement arms of the white apartheid government view the torture

and assassination used to battle anti-apartheid organizations as

criminal and pressure the new government to root out and prosecute

guilty individuals. Whites largely viewed this period as a time of war

and organizations such as the PAC and ANC as subversive terrorist

groups, deserving of the treatment they received. Moreover, the ANC

itself is embarrassed by inquiries into the torture and murder of its

own members.

Despite this, in July 1995, President Mandela signed legislation

establishing a "Truth and Reconciliation Commission" to expose human

rights abuses from the apartheid era.136 The decision to prosecute

Magnus Malan, former head of the SADF and Minister of Defense, and 10

other retired senior officers (including five generals and an admiral)

for murder--and Mandela's acceptance of the decision--sent shock waves

through the white population and much of the SANDF leadership. The 11

accused men are alleged to have sanctioned the paramilitary training

of a group from the Zulu-based Inkatha Freedom Party who, in 1987,

massacred 13 women and children in KwaZulu-Natal.137 The decision has

polarized the various ethnic communities. In the SANDF, it pits white

SADF veterans who revere and support Malan against the recently

integrated opposition who view them as criminal oppressors. The

ultimate impact of the case is yet to be seen, but it undoubtedly

complicates the already difficult integration process and may portend

further scrutiny of the apartheid-era activities of SANDF leaders. The

issue has driven a wedge between Mandela and Deputy President F.W. de

Klerk.138 If this case is simply the first of many instigated by the

Truth and Reconciliation Commission, the fragile peace between the

constituent parts of the SANDF could be shattered.

In contrast. Although internal violence, a difficult integration,

and a budget crunch could complicate South Africa civil-military

relations and potentially hinder the consolidation of democracy, the

contrast with Nigeria remains stark. In Nigeria, those who understand

the role of the military in stable democracies and are interested in

moving their own armed forces in that direction have largely been

purged or peripheralized. The only constituency for professionalism

within the military seems to be junior officers susceptible to

cooptation and retired officers who have already stolen their share.

Nigeria's increasing isolation from the global military community will

only exacerbate this.

In South Africa, the top military leadership--white as well as
19

black--gives every sign of commitment to civilian control of the

military and healthy civil-military relations. South Africa's

reintegration into the global military, political, and economic

communities may further encourage this, thus lowering the pressure on

an already beleaguered democratic system. Rocky Williams--a SANDF

colonel and preeminent expert on South African civil-military

relations--is probably correct when he contends that the SADF's

tradition; the strength of South African civil society; the absence of

political or economic disintegration and the legitimacy of the

political system; schisms within the officer corps; and South Africa's

complexity all mitigate against praetorianism.139 But it is also true

that the military in a democracy must carefully avoid over-association

with any one element of society. The more cohesive the society, the

easier this is.140 Few democracies are more complex and violently

divided than South Africa.141 The ongoing professionalization of the MK,

PAC, and homeland components of the SANDF is a race against time,

hopefully to be completed before Nelson Mandela's unifying presence

fades from the political scene. The end of apartheid may represent a

new political dawn, but it remains a dangerous one.

Recommendations: The American Role in Democracy Support.

African democracy can be sustained but to do so will be

extraordinarily difficult. The tradition of colonialism and postcolonial misgovernment, when combined with the problems arising from

dependent economies, poverty, ethnic and religious schisms, rapid

population growth, ecological decline, statist economics, corruption

and nepotism, and ingrained patterns of violence pose tremendous

obstacles to stable, open government. As Africans attempt to surmount

these, U.S. actions will not be decisive but can be important. The

experience of Nigeria and South Africa suggest some of the vital

points and useful actions for American strategists and policymakers.

From these cases, tenets can be drawn to guide U.S. efforts. Three are

particularly important.

Approach democracy support in a strategic fashion. For the

foreseeable future, Africa will remain an area of ancillary or

peripheral concern for the United States. This means that the

resources devoted to democracy support, whether political, military,

or economic, will be limited. As a result, American policies and

programs must be intricately synchronized into a coherent strategy if

they are to have any lasting effect. The normal method of U.S.

involvement in democratization is reactive and ad hoc. By contrast, a

strategic approach focused on the ends, ways, and means necessary for

success would entail the development of clear objectives, an accurate

assessment of the resources available to attain these, and some notion

of how to synchronize and phase the application of resources in

pursuit of objectives. The Greater Horn of Africa Initiative (GHAI) is

an example.

The United States should tailor a strategy of democracy support

to each African country with the State Department in the lead. The

Department of Defense will always be a secondary player but can

spearhead efforts to reform civil-military relations. The Assistant

Secretary of Defense for International Security Affairs can contribute
20

to the overall coherence of U.S. strategy, while American military

officers in-country can provide a link and channel of communication to

their African counterparts. Since armies dominate the military forces

of African states, the role of the U.S. Army will be particularly

important. Any U.S. country team that marginalizes its military

component will have a harder time understanding and influencing the

officer corps of the host nation than a country team that fully

integrates and utilizes its military members. The military component

of a U.S. country team can also play a vital role in developing a

strategic approach to democracy support. Through training, education,

and institutional culture, the U.S. military concentrates on long-term

and holistic strategic planning. This expertise can assist the rest of

the country team (and appropriate policymakers in the Office of the

Secretary of Defense, Department of State, and National Security

Council) in approaching democracy support in a strategic fashion. Of

course, it is also incumbent on the military to provide high-quality

and well-educated personnel for assignments in Africa. To be a major

player in African democracy support, the Army must rejuvenate the

foreign area officer (FAO) program by making it a more attractive

career option.

Most of U.S. effort in democratization focuses on encouraging

non-democracies to hold elections and move toward open government.

This is a vital first step, but should not represent the endpoint of

U.S. involvement. A strategic approach to democracy support would take

a more long-term perspective, with emphasis on making democracy selfsustaining rather than simply starting it. Building a sustainable

democracy is always a protracted process that unfolds in stages. The

consolidation period--making democracy "so broadly and profoundly

legitimate among its citizens that it is very unlikely to break down"

in Larry Diamond's words--is particularly arduous.142

Two points are critical. One is the end of the "honeymoon" period

for the elected government. Because the people of the Third World know

that most developed nations in North America, Western Europe, and the

Asia-Pacific are democracies, they often associate economic

development with open government, assuming that democracy will bring

an immediate improvement in living standards. The political campaigns

leading to an election, with their barrage of promises, further

amplify public expectations. As a result, the people of a state often

become cynical or disillusioned once it becomes clear that their

inflated expectations will not be met. Phrased simply, people with

little experience with democracy often consider it a panacea for their

problems. When they find it is not, they can lose faith. At best,

expectations are lowered and the consolidation of democracy continues.

At worst, the new, fragile government can be challenged or even

toppled as the euphoria of the elections fades. It is particularly

important for external supporters of the democratic government to

offer political and economic support at this time and develop

realistic expectations concerning the pace of change. South Africa,

for instance, is approaching the point of widespread disillusionment.

Mandela's popularity and repeated emphasis on the long-term nature of

political and economic change might postpone the crisis until after he

leaves the political scene but, whether now or later, intensified U.S.

support may be required to consolidate South African democracy.
21

The second key point in building sustainable democracy is the

follow-on election. It is standard wisdom that holding a second

election and completing a peaceful transfer of power is more difficult

than holding the first election.143 South Africa is a case in point. The

selection of Mandela's successor will be more dangerous than the 1994

election, and will serve as a vital determinant of that nation's

future. In the past, Africa has seen a number of democratizations that

eroded into dictatorship. Supporters of democracy must make it clear

that the initial election was only the first step of a difficult

journey rather than the end point of the political transformation.

This is, however, easier said than done. It is politically easy to

pressure an authoritarian government, whether military or civilian, to

hold elections. It is more difficult to pressure a government that

was, in fact, elected, but is balking at giving up power. For 50 years

the United States has shown less concern for second elections than for

those that begin the process of transformation from authoritarian to

open government. To overcome this, the focus should be on the

consolidation of democracy rather than simply its instigation.

Given the limitations of U.S. interests in Africa, a strategic

approach to democracy support should entail a form of political triage

to gain the maximum benefit from scarce political resources. Some

African states will not build and consolidate democracy for a long

time; others are already well on their way. American resources should

be concentrated on a third category: African states that have the

potential to build and consolidate democracy, but need outside help

and encouragement. In all cases, a state's commitment to democracy

should continue to be a primary criteria for any U.S. aid (other than

humanitarian assistance).

A strategic approach to democracy support would also seek to

coordinate the actions of all external supporters of democracy,

whether other African nations, European states, or the United Nations.

To assist in this, the United States should encourage the formation of

an African Democracy Council composed of senior government and nongovernment supporters of democracy in the region. This would offer a

forum for nations in the midst of democratization to exchange ideas

and seek advice, and serve as a clearinghouse for the assessment of

democratization efforts. It would also provide a mechanism to offer

support to advocates of open government and pressure its opponents in

states that have not undergone democratization. The National Endowment

for Democracy could serve as this organization's primary liaison in

the United States.

The United States should also adopt a policy of zero tolerance

for military coups that overthrow elected governments, and should

actively support international efforts to politically and economically

quarantine coup makers. Current U.S. policy toward Nigeria is a useful

step in this direction. In response to Babangida's annulment of the

1993 elections and Abacha's subsequent seizure of power, the United

States ended all government-to-government military assistance and

training, requested withdrawal of the Nigerian military attache from

Washington, DC, withdrew the U.S. security assistance officer, did not

allow a newly-named defense attache to assume his station, and
22

restricted the entry into the United States of Nigerian military

officers involved in the Abacha government and their families.144 These

steps, according to Assistant Secretary of State George Moose, "were

directed at those regarded as most responsible for Nigeria's current

political impasse, namely the Nigerian military."145 The State

Department has also worked with other nations to coordinate pressure

on the military regime.

These are positive steps but the United States should escalate

the pressure and encourage other states and international

organizations to adopt an increasingly strict and coordinated

political and economic quarantine of Nigeria. For many African

militaries, Nigeria is a test case. A concerted global program of

pressure including the oil boycott advocated by Randall Robinson of

TransAfrica would set a valuable precedent. Such actions are more

politically and economically feasible now than at any time in recent

memory. Nigeria supplies only 7.1 percent of U.S. oil imports.146

Current world petroleum prices are low and other suppliers could make

up the difference. Even if an oil boycott did result in a slight price

increase and the loss of Nigerian cooperation on counternarcotic and

peacekeeping efforts, that nation's symbolic importance across Africa

is so great that the political benefits would justify the costs. Even

though an oil boycott would be largely symbolic and difficult to

enforce, it would show that even influential states are subject to

pressure from the growing community of democratic nations, and that

the United States is actually willing to pay a price for democracy

support. By this, it might help deter future coup-makers.

Concentrate on perceptions, beliefs, and attitudes. The United

States will not be able to smother emerging African democracies in

aid. El Salvador, which received nearly $6 billion in aid during the

1980s and 1990s, will not be replicated in Africa.147 In countries that

choose to undergo the difficult transition to open government, U.S.

strategy should thus concentrate on the psychological component of

democracy support. An important part of this is effective civilian

control of the military. Stable democracies all have some form of

civilian control and oversight of the military. For the United States,

civilian control is sacrosanct and can accurately be considered the

first principle of civil-military relations.148 Other democratic states

need to take this trust as seriously.

Stable democracies use a sliding scale of appropriate military

involvement in policymaking. On issues concerning military operations,

civilians usually defer to military leaders. On military organization,

doctrine, strategy, force composition, acquisition, and budget, there

is a somewhat firmer civilian hand. On national security strategy and

foreign policy, the military usually provides advice, but is seldom

the primary decisionmaker. On non-security economic, social, and

political policy, most modern democracies accord the military a very

small role in decisionmaking if any at all. This is what Huntington

called "objective" civilian control.149 African civil-military relations

have more often been based on "subjective" control where civilians

attempt to minimize the military's propensity to intervene in politics

by promoting a convergence of interests and values.150 While it is

sometimes held that objective control is impossible in the African
23

environment, Huntington was correct when he argued that subjective

control is incompatible with stable, sustained democracy. American

strategies for democracy support must thus promote objective control

of African militaries rather than subjective (even though this may be

unattainable in some instances.) This approach could help create

militaries that serve as indigenous resources for democracy support.

The key to this is cultivation of appropriate perceptions,

attitudes, and beliefs. Americans who seek to help Africans

consolidate democracy must overcome infatuation with the formal

dimension of civil-military relations. Constitutions, laws,

regulations, and organizational structures may be important, but the

crux is psychological. Specific perceptions, attitudes, and beliefs

undergird healthy civil-military relations. The military, for

instance, needs to believe that civilian leaders were selected by

legitimate means and are fair, competent, and honest. Armed forces

should see their allegiance as holistic--to the nation as a whole--

rather than to specific regions, groups, or individuals, believing the

military budget is fair and their service adequately rewarded given

the overall economic situation of the nation. The military needs to be

respected, its counsel adequately considered on strategic issues, its

autonomy adequate on matters that are strictly internal to the

military, and believe that civilian leaders and society as a whole

consider soldiering an honorable profession. Finally, the military

must believe that civilian rule is almost always preferable to

military rule, and that active involvement in politics is incompatible

with military professionalism and detracts from the promotion of

national security. Similarly, civilian officials must believe that

military leaders are competent, honest, and effective, and that they

deserve autonomy or authority over certain internal issues. They

should consider adequate funding of the military important. And,

civilians too must consider soldiering an honorable profession and

believe that politicization of the military would detract from

national security and political stability even though it might bring

short-term gains to civilian leaders who manipulate it. The entire

society needs to share these beliefs, and should feel that the

military represents the nation as a whole rather than one region or

segment.

The U.S. military's prime function in democracy support is

encouraging African officers to adopt the perceptions, beliefs, and

attitudes necessary for healthy civil-military relations, primarily by

providing a good example and incentives for accepting civilian

control. One of the key tools for this is the International Military

Education and Training (IMET) program, which brings African officers

to U.S. military schools where they learn about and observe the

American approach to civil-military relations. The U.S. Department of

Defense considers IMET "one of the most economical and effective uses

of DoD funds in the long-term. With few exceptions, IMET graduates

have positive experiences in the U.S., and return to their countries

with a better understanding of the proper role of a nation's military

in a democratic civil society."151 The program should be expanded as

much as possible and include education of the civilians that will

exercise oversight over the military and police forces that will allow

armed forces to diminish their involvement in internal security. More
24

should also be done to coordinate IMET and similar programs run by the

British, French, and other European nations involved in Africa.

Officer education is not, however, a panacea for military

intervention. One of the major problems is that Africans attending

military schools in the United States (or Great Britain or France) can

easily conclude the "western" notion of military professionalism is

appropriate here, but inappropriate in their political environment.

One way to transcend this would be creation of a Pan-African Staff

College. This could be located in a democratic African state with a

faculty drawn from across Africa, the United States, Western Europe,

and those Latin American, Eastern European, and Asia-Pacific nations

that have undergone democratization. The objective would be to

transcend the notion that civilian control of the military and officer

professionalism are culture-specific "western" concepts, and allow

officers from new democracies to use their experience to teach others

in the midst of democratization.

Emphasize military reorganization and the development of regional

security mechanisms. The United States should encourage African states

to move toward a system of military organization that combines a very

small standing military with a somewhat larger reserve force. Outside

South Africa, there is little tradition of a major reserve component

among African militaries. It is more than coincidence that South

Africa has a reserve tradition and the SADF supported civilian control

of the military and democratization. The absence of reserve systems in

the rest of Africa is largely due to the colonial lineage of armed

forces. In colonial times, militaries were more likely to impose the

government's will on the people than to defend the nation from

external aggression. A reserve system would also facilitate military

downsizing. Admittedly, this is not a panacea for military

intervention in politics. It does not take a large force to complete a

coup d'etat, so lowering the size of standing armies would not, in

itself, prevent coups. It would, though, contribute to the

perceptions, attitudes, and beliefs that undergird healthy civilmilitary relations.

If African militaries are to continue their transition from tools

of repression to defenders of the nation, reorganization into reservebased systems would help cement the link between the military and the

citizens of the nation and mitigate "we-they" thinking. One of the

keys to the long history of healthy civil-military relations in the

United States has been reliance on citizen-soldiers in Reserve or

National Guard units. Building such a system would help African

militaries change their self-image and lower the costs of national

defense while still providing security against external enemies or

internal insurgents. Similarly, increased U.S. and European aid for

the development of African police forces could help ease regional

militaries out of the internal security function and improve civilmilitary relations by cultivating more positive attitudes.

The augmentation and development of regional security mechanisms

could perform a similar function. The ultimate objective should be a

NATO-like mutual security pact composed of African democracies,

possibly affiliated with the African Democracy Council. Admittedly few
25

African states face the imminent prospect of foreign invasion, but

such an organization could bring a number of political and symbolic

benefits. It could, for instance, allow military downsizing and

movement toward reserve-based forces by lowering inter-state

hostility. It could also facilitate officer professionalization

through frequent exchanges, the construction of personal networks, and

combined training and exercises. Perhaps most important, it could

provide an institutional framework for quarantines against coup-makers

by providing a forum for cooperation among African democracies. If

such an organization were to take shape, the United States could offer

invaluable advice, support, and training.

* * * *

Reforming civil-military relations in Africa will not assure the

success of democracy but not doing so will guarantee the collapse of

open government. Western scholars and Africans themselves have long

held that expecting African militaries to adopt the "western" model of

civil-military relations is ethnocentric. Today, such relativism

should be abandoned. Admittedly, colonialism dealt Africa a bad hand.

Admittedly, the problems faced by current African political and

military leaders are extraordinarily complex. Still, the relativism

that dominated U.S. thinking for several decades, with its all-tooeasy acceptance of corruption, repression, and political intrigue by

African military leaders is inimical to democratization and economic

development. The "western" form of civil-military relations has

nothing to do with culture, race, or region--it is not really

"western" at all. There is, in fact, a democratic model of civilmilitary relations that transcends culture.

The decision to pursue open government in Africa must be made by

Africans and cannot be imposed by outsiders. If they do make the

decision to build and consolidate democracy, they must simultaneously

move toward the type of civil-military relations inextricably

associated with it. The United States cannot force such reform on

unwilling African militaries, but should be ready to offer as much

help as possible to those who undertake such a transformation. A

strategy of democracy support built on a foundation of clear policies

and carefully-constructed institutions can be the locomotive of such

help.

ENDNOTES

1. Samuel Decalo, "The Process, Prospects and Constraints of

Democratization in Africa," African Affairs, Vol. 91, No. 362, January

1992, p. 7.

2. Michael Chege, "What's Right with Africa?" Current History, May 1994, p. 194. In August 1995 the elected government of São Tome

and Principe was overthrown in a military coup, but this was reversed

a week later (U.S. Department of State Dispatch, August 28, 1995,

n.p./electronic download).

3. Ozoemenam Mbachu, "Democracy in Africa: A Theoretical

Overview," Coexistence, Vol. 31, No. 2, June 1994, p. 147.
26

 4. For example, Morton H. Halperin, "Guaranteeing Democracy,"

Foreign Policy, No. 91, Summer 1993, pp. 105-123; Joshua Muravchik,

Exporting Democracy: Fulfilling America's Destiny, Washington, DC: AEI

Press, 1991; Larry Diamond, "Promoting Democracy," Foreign Policy, No.

87, Summer 1992, pp. 25-46; and, Ralph M. Goldman and William A.

Douglas, eds., Promoting Democracy, New York: Praeger, 1988.

5. See Thomas Carothers, "Democracy Promotion Under Clinton,"

Washington Quarterly, Vol. 18, No. 4, Autumn 1995, pp. 13-25.

6. President William J. Clinton, A National Security Strategy of

Engagement and Enlargement, Washington, DC: The White House, July

1994, p. 19.

7. Decalo, "The Process, Prospects and Constraints of

Democratization in Africa," p. 8.

8. Anthony Lake, "U.S. Support for Democracy in Africa," address

to the Organization of African Unity, Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, December

15, 1994, reprinted in U.S. Department of State Dispatch, January 9,

1995, p. 13.

9. For instance, the armies of Burundi, Guinea, Lesotho, Congo,

Zaire, Togo, Cameroon, and Nigeria have obstructed democratization and

political reform. (Chege, "What's Right with Africa?" p. 194.)

10. William Gutteridge, "Undoing Military Coups in Africa," Third

World Quarterly, Vol. 7, No. 1, January 1985, p. 79. This point is a

common one among writers on Africa. See, for instance, Claude E.

Welch, Jr., No Farewell to Arms? Military Disengagement from Politics

in Africa and Latin America, Boulder, CO: Westview, 1987, p. 4; and

John W. Harbeson, "Military Rulers in African Politics," in John W.

Harbeson, ed., The Military in African Politics, New York: Praeger,

1987, p. 2. It is echoed in United States Security Strategy for SubSaharan Africa, Washington, DC: Department of Defense, Office of

International Security Affairs, August 1995 p. 15.

11. Claude E. Welch, Jr., "Civil-Military Agonies in Nigeria:

Pains of an Unaccomplished Transition," Armed Forces and Society, Vol.

21, No. 4, Summer 1995, pp. 602-603.

12. On the Liberia operation, see Max Ahmadu Sesay, "Collective

Security or Collective Disaster: Regional Peace-keeping in West

Africa," Security Dialogue, Vol. 26, No. 2, June 1995, pp. 205-223;

and W. Ofuatey-Kadjoe, "Regional Organizations and the Resolution of

Internal Conflict: The ECOWAS Intervention in Liberia," International

Peacekeeping, Vol. 1, No. 3, Autumn 1994, pp. 261-302. Nigerian

assistance to Sierra Leone and Gambia was reported by the Voice of

Nigeria (Lagos), December 21, 1993, transcript in FBIS (Foreign

Broadcast Information Service)-AFR-93-245, December 23, 1993, p. 26;

and by Pan African News Agency (Dakar), December 14, 1993, transcript

in FBIS-AFR-93-239, December 15, 1993, p. 29.

13. Quoted in James Jukwey, "Liberia Intervention Long and
27

Difficult," Reuters electronic newswire, September 1, 1995.

14. Radio Nigeria Network (Lagos), broadcast of June 14, 1993,

transcript in FBIS-AFR-93-113, June 15, 1993, p. 42.

15. Kenneth B. Noble, "Nigeria's Ruler a Puzzle to His People,"

New York Times, July 7, 1993, p. A3.

16. Samuel Decalo, Coups and Army Rule in Africa: Motivations and

Constraints, 2d edition, New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1990,

p. 13.

17. Leslie Rubin and Brian Weinstein, Introduction to African

Politics: A Continental Approach, New York: Praeger, 1974, pp. 35-37.

18. Paul Adams, "Africa's Next Pariah?" Africa Report, May-June

1995, p. 44.

19. Robin Luckham, The Nigerian Military: A Sociological Analysis

of Authority and Revolt 1960-67, Cambridge: Cambridge University

Press, 1971, p. 1.

20. Larry Diamond, "Nigeria: Pluralism, Statism, and the Struggle

for Democracy," in Larry Diamond, Juan J. Linz, and Seymour Martin

Lipset, eds., Democracy in Developing Countries, Volume Two: Africa,

Boulder, CO: Lynne Rienner, 1988, pp. 45-49.

21. See B.O. Nwabueze, The Presidential Constitution of Nigeria,

New York: St. Martin's, 1982.

22. Julius O. Ihonvbere, Nigeria: The Politics of Adjustment and

Democracy, New Brunswick, NJ: Transaction, 1994, p. 47.

23. Ihonvbere, Nigeria, p. 55.

24. Larry Diamond, "Nigeria's Search for a New Political Order,"

Journal of Democracy, Vol. 2, No. 2, Spring 1991, p. 56.

25. Habibu Idris Shuaibu, "Military Involvement in Politics in

Nigeria: The Effect on Nigerian Army," unpublished thesis, U.S. Army

Command and General Staff College, Fort Leavenworth, KS, 1989, p. 58.

Dr. Metz directed this thesis.

26. Emeka Nwokedi, "Nigeria's Democratic Transition: Explaining

the Annulled 1993 Presidential Election," The Round Table, No. 33,

April 1994, p. 191.

27. Diamond, "Nigeria's Search for a New Political Order," p. 59.

28. Ian Campbell, "Nigeria's Failed Transition: The 1993

Presidential Elections," Journal of Contemporary African Studies, Vol.

12, No. 2, 1994, p. 180.

29. Ihonvbere, Nigeria, p. 67.
28

30. Cited in Paul Beran, "Nigeria's Political Progress Essential

to Stability of Africa," Christian Science Monitor, October 24, 1994,

p. 19.

31. Africa Confidential, June 5, 1992, p. 3.

32. Africa Confidential, February 21, 1992, pp. 3-4.

33. Africa Confidential, November 5, 1993, p. 2.

34. Africa Confidential, September 27, 1991, p. 4.

35. Africa Confidential, July 2, 1993, p. 1.

36. Peter M. Lewis, "Endgame in Nigeria? The Politics of a Failed

Democratic Transition," African Affairs, Vol. 93, No. 372, July 1994,

p. 330.

37. Campbell, "Nigeria's Failed Transition," p. 181.

38. Diamond, "Nigeria's Search for a New Political Order," p. 68.

39. Africa Confidential, May 17, 1991, pp. 1-2.

40. Ibid., p. 61.

41. Ajayi Ola Rotimi and Julius O. Ihonvbere, "Democratic

Impasse: Remilitarisation in Nigeria," Third World Quarterly, Vol. 15,

No. 4, December 1994, p. 671.

42. George Klay Kieh, Jr. and Pita Ogaba Agbese, "From Politics

Back to the Barracks in Nigeria: A Theoretical Exploration," Journal

of Peace Research, Vol. 30, No. 4, November 1993, p. 414.

43. Kenneth B. Noble, "Nigeria Nervously Awaits Vote to End Army

Rule," New York Times, June 8, 1993, p. A15.

44. Africa Confidential, October 23, 1992, p. 1.

45. Larry Diamond, "Nigeria's Perennial Struggle," Journal of

Democracy, Vol. 2, No. 4, Fall 1991, pp. 73-85.

46. Lewis, "Endgame in Nigeria?" p. 326; Campbell, "Nigeria's

Failed Transition," p. 186; Rotimi and Ihonvbere, "Democratic

Impasse," p. 672; Assistant Secretary of State George E. Moose, "U.S.

Policy Toward Nigeria," testimony before Senate Foreign Relations

Committee, July 20, 1995, n.p./electronic download (henceforth Moose

testimony, 1995); and, Assistant Secretary of State George E. Moose,

"Nigeria: Which Way Forward?" testimony before the Subcommittee on

Africa of the Committee on Foreign Affairs, House of Representatives,"

103 Cong., 1st sess, August 4, 1993, p. 57 (henceforth Moose

testimony, 1993).

47. Kenneth B. Noble, "Nigeria Suspends Results of Vote That Was

to Restore Democracy," New York Times, June 17, 1993, pp. A1, A12;
29

Rotimi and Ihonvbere, "Democratic Impasse," p. 673.

48. Quoted in Kenneth B. Noble, "Nigerian Military Rulers Annul

Elections," New York Times, June 24, 1993, p. A8.

49. Kenneth B. Noble, "Nigerian Military Ruler Announces New

Elections," New York Times, June 27, 1993, pp. 1, 6.

50. Noble, "Nigeria's Ruler a Puzzle to His People," p. A3;

Nwokedi, "Nigeria's Democratic Impasse," p. 196.

51. Rotimi and Ihonvbere, "Democratic Impasse," p. 685.

52. Lewis, "Endgame in Nigeria?" p. 334.

53. "Rioting in Nigeria Kills At Least 11," New York Times, July

7, 1993, p. A3.

54. Paul Adams, "Legacy of the General," Africa Report,

September-October 1993, p. 67; Keith B. Richburg, "Africa's Newest

Despot," Washington Post, July 8, 1993, p. A11.

55. Paul Adams, "Ethnic Tensions Test Opposition To Nigerian

Military Regime," Christian Science Monitor, August 8, 1994, p. 3.

56. Quoted in Kenneth B. Noble, "Officer in Nigeria to Retire To

Protest Scrapping of Vote," New York Times, June 30, 1993, p. A2.

57. Adams, "Africa's Next Pariah?" p. 45.

58. Kenneth B. Noble, "Nigerian Ruler Cedes Power to Civilian,"

New York Times, August 27, 1993, p. A3.

59. "Nigerian Military Leader Ousts Interim President," New York

Times, November 18, 1993, p. A15.

60. "Nigeria's Latest Military Ruler Bans Political Activity,"

New York Times, November 19, 1993, p. A3.

61. Paul Beran, "Nigeria's Political Progress Essential to

Stability of Africa," Christian Science Monitor, October 24, 1994, p.

19.

62. John Dornton, "Generals May Bring Chaos to Nigeria," New York

Times, November 20, 1993, p. 5.

63. "Back to the Generals in Nigeria" (editorial), New York

Times, November 20, 1993, p. A20.

64. Cindy Shiner, "In Nigeria's Confusion, Military Coup Looks

Like Democracy," Washington Post, December 4, 1993, p. A24.

65. Paul Adams, "Nigerians Wary As New Regime Makes Promises,"

Christian Science Monitor, December 3, 1993, p. 2.
30

66. Paul Adams, "The Army Calls the Tune," Africa Report, January-February 1994, p. 48.

67. Paul Adams, "The Deepening Stalemate," Africa Report, JulyAugust 1994, p. 64.

68. Stephen Buckley, "Nigeria Suffers in Silence," Washington

Post, April 3, 1995, p. A16; Human Rights Watch, "Soldiers Testify on

Military Campaign in Ogoniland," press release of March 27, 1995;

Amnesty International, "Nigeria: Human Rights Crisis," press release

of May 5, 1994. For detailed analysis, see Eghosa E. Osaghae, "The

Ogoni Uprising: Oil Politics, Minority Agitation and the Future of the

Nigerian State," African Affairs, Vol. 94, No. 376, July 1995, pp.

325-344.

69. U.S. Department of State, Nigeria Human Rights Practices,

1994, Washington, DC: U.S. Department of State, February 1995, p. 22.

70. Africa No. 1 Network (Libreville), broadcast of February 22,

1995, transcript in FBIS-AFR-95-036, February 23, 1995, p. 14.

 71. Abiola explained this in a statement before the U.S. House

of Representatives. See Congressional Record, June 22, 1994, p. H4879.

72. Moose testimony, 1995.

73. "Nigeria's Biggest Labor Group Suspends Strike," New York

Times, August 5, 1994, p. A5.

74. U.S. Department of State, Nigeria Human Rights Practices,

1994, pp. 2-3.

75. "Nigeria Fires 2 Top Chiefs of Military," New York Times, August 23, 1994, p. A5.

76. "Nigerian Military Ruler Assumes Absolute Power," New York

Times, September 7, 1994, p. A10.

77. "Military Ruler Tightens His Grip on Nigeria," New York

Times, September 28, 1994, p. A3.

78. Howard W. French, "Opposition to Military Rules in Nigeria Is

Widening," New York Times, December 11, 1994, p. 1/26.

79. BBC World Service (London), broadcast of May 18, 1994,

transcript in FBIS-AFR-94-097, May 19, 1994, p. 12; AFP (Paris),

broadcast of December 6, transcript in FBIS-AFR-94-238, December 12,

1994, p. 25.

80. Quoted by AFP (Paris), broadcast of September 28, 1994,

transcript in FBIS-AFR-94-189, September 29, 1994, p. 13.

81. Africa Confidential, March 17, 1995, p. 8.

82. Howard W. French, "In Nigeria, a Strongman Tightens the
31

Vise," New York Times, March 31, 1995, p. A3.

83. Carter Center, "Former U.S. President Jimmy Carter Secures

Pledge From Nigerian Head of State General Abacha To Release Olusegun

Obasanjo," press release of March 22, 1995; John Chiahemen, "Abacha

Will Not Ignore Worldwide Pleas for Clemency," Reuters electronic

newswire, August 21, 1995; "Pushing Abacha," Africa Confidential, August 25, 1995, pp. 1-3.

84. Paul Lewis, "Nigeria Rulers Back Hanging of 9 Members of

Opposition," New York Times, November 9, 1995, p. A9.

85. Reuters electronic newswire, November 11, 1995.

86. Steven A. Holmes, "U.S. Blacks Battle Nigeria Over Rights

Issue," New York Times, June 15, 1995, p. A6.

87. "A Death Sentence in Nigeria" (editorial), New York Times, November 9, 1995, p. A28.

88. Deborah Zabarenko, "U.S. Considering Oil Embargo on Nigeria,"

Reuters electronic newswire, December 12, 1995.

89. Buckley, "Nigeria Suffers in Silence," p. A16.

90. Chukwuemeka Gahia, "What Now, NADECO?" Newswatch, May 15,

1995, n.p./electronic download. This report also includes a valuable

history of the National Democratic Coalition.

 91. French, "In Nigeria, a Strongman Tightens the Vise," p. A3.

92. AFP (Paris), broadcast of June 2, 1995, transcript in FBISAFR-95-106, June 2, 1995, p. 15; "Nigeria Seizes Foes In Military

Crack-down," New York Times, June 2, 1995, p. A6.

93. Howard W. French, "Nigeria Chief Offers Foes Concessions,"

New York Times, October 2, 1995, p. A6.

94. Africa Confidential, August 25, 1995, p. 2.

95. Independence Anniversary speech broadcast on NTA Television

Network (Lagos), October 1, 1995, transcript in FBIS-AFR-95-190,

October 2, 1995, p. 20.

96. Welch, "Civil-Military Agonies in Nigeria," p. 609.

97. This problem will be explored in greater detail in Steven

Metz, Crisis of the Giants: Political Collapse in Nigeria and Zaire, Carlisle Barracks, PA: U.S. Army War College, Strategic Studies

Institute, forthcoming.

98. Africa Confidential, August 26, 1994, p. 7; report in the

Johannesburg Rapport, reprinted in FBIS-AFR-93-208, October 29, 1993,

p. 8.
32

99. Africa Confidential, September 23, 1994, pp. 1-3.

100. Kenneth W. Grundy, "South Africa's Tortuous Transition,"

Current History, May 1993, p. 232.

101. Kenneth W. Grundy, The Militarization of South African

Politics, Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1986. For a counter

to this, see James M. Roherty, State Security in South Africa: CivilMilitary Relations Under PW Botha, Armonk, NY: M.E. Sharpe, 1992.

102. Rocklyn Mark Williams, "South Africa's New Defense Force:

Progress and Prospects," CSIS Africa Notes, No. 170, March 1995, p. 5.

103. Rocky Williams, comments on Johannesburg SAPA, broadcast of

October 28, 1993, transcript in FBIS-AFR-93-208, October 29, 1993, p.

10; and, Herbert M. Howe, "The South African Defence Force and

Political Reform," Journal of Modern African Studies, Vol. 32, No. 1,

March 1994, p. 44.

104. Howe, "The South African Defence Force and Political

Reform," p. 41.

105. SAPA (Johannesburg), broadcast of June 24, 1994, transcript

in FBIS-AFR-94-122, June 24, 1994, pp. 8-9.

106. SABC TV 1 Network (Johannesburg), broadcast of August 4,

1994, transcript in FBIS-AFR-94-151, August 5, 1994, p. 20; Africa

Confidential, August 26, 1994, p. 7.

107. The provisions of the Constitution dealing with civilmilitary relations are reprinted in Defence in a Democracy, Draft

White Paper on National Defense for the Republic of South Africa, June

21, 1995, chapter 3, n.p. (electronic download).

108. Ibid., chapter 3.

109. On South African national security policy during the

apartheid era, see Steven Metz, "Pretoria's 'Total Strategy' and LowIntensity Warfare in Southern Africa," Comparative Strategy, Vol 6,

No. 4, 1987, pp. 437-470.

110. Williams, "South Africa's New Defense Force," p. 5.

111. Some scholars contend this point. Laurie Nathan, for

instance, argues that because of internal deployment the SADF's

"credibility amongst large sections of the population was destroyed"

("The Restructuring and Reorientation of the South African Defence

Force," in Towards Sustainable Peace and Stability in Southern Africa, Papers from a Conference in Harare, Zimbabwe, June 30-July 2, 1993,

New York: Institute of International Education, 1994, p. 133.)

112. David Greybe, "ANC Drafts Social Policy Five-Year Plan,"

Business Day (Johannesburg), October 20, 1994, pp. 1-2; and "Police

Killings," Financial Mail, August 26, 1994, p. 47.
33

113. Abdul Milazi, "Strike Crippling Motor Industry," The Star

(Johannesburg), August 26, 1994; Cyril Ramaphosa, interview in

Financial Mail, August 26, 1994, p. 50; and "Ramaphosa on the Record,"

Financial Week, August 25-31, 1994, p. 22.

114. SAPA (Johannesburg), broadcast of September 28, 1994,

transcript in FBIS-AFR-94-188, September 28, 1994, p. 3; and, "South

Africa: Who Exactly is in Command?" The Economist, November 19, 1994,

p. 48.

115. President Nelson Mandela, "Opening Address to Parliament,"

August 18, 1994, reprinted in FBIS-AFR-94-161, August 19, 1994, p. 14.

See also "South Africa: Who Exactly is in Command?" p. 48.

116. Bill Berkeley, "The Warlords of Natal," Atlantic Monthly, March 1994, pp. 85-100.

117. Defence in a Democracy, chapter 5.

118. See Timothy J. Colton, Commissars, Commanders, and Civilian

Authority: The Structure of Soviet Military Politics, Cambridge, MA:

Harvard University Press, 1979.

119. Williams, "South Africa's New Defense Force," p. 3.

120. Interview with Sowetan (Johannesburg), May 18, 1994,

reprinted in FBIS-AFR-94-097, May 19, 1994, p. 3.

121. Samuel P. Huntington, The Soldier and the State: The Theory

and Politics of Civil-Military Relations, New York: Vintage, 1957, pp.

83-85.

122. Jackie Cock, "The Social Integration of Demobilized Soldiers

in Contemporary South Africa," South African Defence Review, No. 12,

1993, pp. 1-17. On the background and origin of these units, see

Helmoed-Römer Heitman, South African War Machine, Novato, CA:

Presidio, 1985.

123. Bill Keller, "Can a Post-Apartheid Army Ever Get In Step?"

New York Times, October 14, 1994, p. A4; Joseph Conteras, "Unrest in

Mandela's Ranks," Newsweek, November 14, 1994, p. 43; and Mandela

speech broadcast on SAPA (Johannesburg), October 20, 1994, transcript

in FBIS-AFR-94-205, October 24, 1994, p. 4.

124. Interviews with military analysts and U.S. embassy personnel

by Dr. Butts in Johannesburg and Pretoria, August 1994.

125. Ibid.

126. Douglas G. Anglin, "The Life and Death of South Africa's

National Peacekeeping Force," Journal of Modern African Studies, Vol.

33, No. 1, March 1995, pp. 21-52.

127. For instance, Reuters reports that 122 people died from

violence in Natal between October 6 and 13, 1995 (electronic newswire,
34

October 13, 1995).

128. The RDP: The First Year Reviewed, Pretoria: Office of the

President, April 27, 1995. See also Mandela, "Opening Address to

Parliament," pp. 5-8; and Sven Lunsche, "Tax Revenues Running Ahead of

Budget Estimates," Sunday Times (Johannesburg), September 18, 1994, p.

2.

129. Radio South Africa (Johannesburg), broadcast of October 16,

1994, transcript in FBIS-AFR-94-200, October 17, 1994, p. 6.

130. Radio South Africa (Johannesburg), broadcast of June 17,

1994, transcript in FBIS-AFR-94-118, June 20, 1994, p. 17.

131. Quoted in The Star (Johannesburg), July 26, 1994, reprinted

in FBIS-AFR-94-143, July 26, 1994, p. 7.

132. SABC CCV Television (Johannesburg), broadcast of September

28, 1994, transcript in FBIS-AFR-94-189, September 29, 1994, p. 3; and

Radio South Africa Network (Johannesburg), broadcast of August 8,

1994, transcript in FBIS-AFR-94-153, August 9, 1994, p. 9.

133. Lunsche, "Tax Revenues Running Ahead of Budget Estimates,"

p. 2.

134. SAPA (Johannesburg), broadcast of June 28, 1995, reprinted

in FBIS-AFR-95-126, June 30, 1995, p. 9; and SAPA (Johannesburg),

broadcast of July 21, 1995, reprinted in FBIS-AFR-95-140, July 21,

1995, p. 10.

135. "Inadequate Government Delivery on RDP Promises," Financial

Mail, June 30, 1995, p. 19.

136. Suzanne Daley, "Panel to Investigate Atrocities of the

Apartheid Era," New York Times, August 27, 1995, p. A3; and, Lynne

Duke, "South Africa Establishes 'Truth' Panel," Washington Post, July

20, 1995, p. A24.

137. Reuters electronic newswire, November 3, 1995.

138. Suzanne Daley, "Finger-Pointing Over Past Straining South

African Unity," New York Times, November 27, 1995, p. A7.

 139. Williams, "South Africa's New Defense Force," p. 7.

140. Dankwart Rustow, "Transition to Democracy," Comparative

Politics, No. 2, Vol. 3, October 1970, p. 360.

141. Hermann Giliomee, "Democratization in South Africa,"

Political Science Quarterly, Vol. 110, No. 1, Spring 1995, pp. 100-

101; and, Donald Horowitz, A Democratic South Africa? Constitutional

Engineering in a Divided Society, New York: Oxford University Press,

1991, p. 85.

142. Larry Diamond, "Toward Democratic Consolidation," Journal of
35

Democracy, Vol. 5., No. 3, July 1994, p. 15.

143. For instance, John F. Clark, "The Constraints on Democracy

in Sub-Saharan Africa: The Case for Limited Democracy," SAIS Review, Vol. 19, No. 2, Summer-Fall 1994, p. 96.

144. Moose testimony, 1995.

145. Moose testimony, 1993, p. 5.

146. Energy Information Administration, Petroleum Supply Monthly, September 1995, pp. 11-15.

147. Benjamin C. Schwarz, American Counterinsurgency Doctrine and

El Salvador: The Frustration of Reform and Illusions of Nation

Building, Santa Monica, CA: RAND Corporation, 1991, p. 2.

148. See Douglas V. Johnson II and Steven Metz, American CivilMilitary Relations: New Issues, Enduring Problems, Carlisle Barracks,

PA: U.S. Army War College, Strategic Studies Institute, 1995; and

Allan R. Millett, The American Political System and Civilian Control

of the Military: A Historical Perspective, Columbus: Mershon Center of

the Ohio State University, 1979.

149. Huntington, The Soldier and the State, pp. 83-85.

150. David Goldsworthy, "Civilian Control of the Military in

Black Africa," African Affairs, Vol. 80, No. 318, January 1981, p. 73.

151. United States Security Strategy for Sub-Saharan Africa, p.

15.
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