30-odd years after the restoration of multiparty democracy, is it time to reassess the practice of democracy?
The first peaceful transfer of power in post-colonial Africa was in Somalia in 1967 when Abdirashid Ali Sharmarke defeated incumbent President Aden Abdullah Osman Daar. The second would only follow a quarter of a century later, when in November 1991 trade union leader, Frederick Chiluba defeated incumbent Zambian president, Kenneth Kaunda in the country's first multiparty election since 1972 when single party rule had been introduced.
For Africa's Big Men, news of Kaunda's defeat was yet another signal of what threatened to become Africa's second Wind of Change after the one that had swept away colonial rule and brought them into power at the end of the 1950s. In the streets of the capitals, the people were in revolt. Dakar, Abidjan, Cotonou, Kinshasa, Yaounde, Nairobi, Harare and several others - all rocked by youth demanding the end of single-party rule and the return of pluralism. Having previously only worried about coups sanctioned and financed in Western metropolises, the dawning realisation that they now had to fear popular revolts - both in the street and at the ballot box - suggested, even to the least paranoid of them, that their former patrons were abandoning them.
Agents of the neocolonial system that had guaranteed the expropriation of Africa's resources since the moment of flag independence, for the Cold War-era dictators and autocrats, 'democracy' was the ultimate betrayal. Since it was their friends in Washington, London and Paris who had won the Cold War, why were they abandoning their faithful clients? Why was a new dispensation being organised without their participation? So, if the timing, perhaps even the uniformity, of the street protests looked too coincidental, that might have been because they were. However, their unscripted rants against all manner of dark forces, their accusations that "money was being poured" into local politics by "foreign masters" in an effort to destabilise their countries mostly sounded like the paranoid ravings of ageing dictators losing their grip on reality and power.
Nothing better exemplified the shifting relations between former Cold War allies than Kenya's Daniel arap Moi's icy reception in Washington DC in early 1990 at the US National Prayer Breakfast. He was not allowed audience with President George H.W Bush. State Secretary, James Baker, would explain to Moi's foreign minister, Robert Ouko, that Washington was concerned with corruption and human rights abuses in Kenya. Only a year before, Kenya had received US$1.6 billion in aid from the West, led by Washington, a ringing endorsement of Moi's steadfast loyalty as a bulwark of Western interests in the East Africa, Horn and Great Lakes region. At the end of 1991, with pro-democracy protesters out on the streets, the Paris Club threatened to withhold aid. In mid-November, Moi called a meeting of the ruling party's national delegates, and announced the repealing of Section 2A of the Constitution, effectively re-introducing multiparty politics in Kenya.
In Kinshasa, in a rare interview with a foreign correspondent, Mobutu Sese Seko is asked when he last spoke to his friend, Belgian's King Baoudouin. Mobutu often referred to Baoudouin as his brother; they were born one month apart. He could not remember. A few years later, as he struggled to keep the pro-democracy forces in check, Mobutu would be toppled by a multinational coalition of armed forces, led jointly by the Ugandans and Rwandans, and fronted by Congolese. Contrary to its revolutionary posturing, as it later turned out the only thing the Laurent Kabila-fronted Alliance of Democratic Forces for the Liberation of the Congo, had in common was Washington's backing.
African governments were forced into accepting political liberalisation - that is, the re-introduction of opposition parties - as part of a set of conditions on balance of payments support, itself necessitated by the structural adjustment austerity programmes initiated in the mid-1980s following the debt crisis of circa 1982. With the Cold War over, a vernacular of "good governance", "transparency" and "accountability" became the mediating language of relations between the rich OECD countries and their aid recipients in Africa. In many African countries, the adoption of multiparty democracy was mandated by Western creditors as a precondition for continued assistance.
Democracy, therefore, was more a creature of the market than of popular citizen aspirations. Western media commentators referred to the package of conditional aid as "market democracy". In many cases across the continent, the original campaigners for pluralism found themselves side-lined in favour of a new set of actors with closer links to Western embassies and who espoused reformist visions in line with neoliberal orthodoxy. In time, it would dawn on even the more radical political actors that unless they toed the new line, they would lose their place on the donor gravy train.
Scene: Africa Hall, Addis Ababa.
UN Economic Commission for Africa, Finance Ministers Summit, 6 May 1999.
Opening the conference, Ethiopian PM, Meles Zenawi made a defiant speech against the Washington Consensus and its agenda to re-colonise Africa via its regime of aid dependency and market deregulation. The speech was not met with rousing applause and raised amandlas. The only people cheering appeared to be the Jubilee debt campaigners in the gallery. Nobody remarked on the fact that Zenawi's government had received $104 million in 1997, making it the second largest recipient in Africa of Washington's largesse.
There is an atmosphere of embarrassment and defeat here. The vast majority of the OAU's club of Big Men have made peace, for their own political survival, with the new world order. Mobutu, who has died in exile in Morocco after fleeing Zaire as the rebels advanced, serves as a cautionary tale.
The Big Men have learned how to manipulate the new democracy game, play rope-a-dope with the street protesters, exchange their old Kaunda suits for Western business suits, and now speak the language of reform, manipulate electoral commissions and smile knowingly as the straight-faced international observer teams grudgingly endorse another botched election.
There is a plenary session in the afternoon, on aid effectiveness. The keynote speaker is a former Africa head of USAID. One African leader after another takes to the podium to recite how far along the road of economic reforms his country has gone. It would be farcical if the lives of millions were not at stake, watching these Big Men on display, lining up to exchange national sovereignties for the promise of Lazarus aid dollars. If Mobutu was once reviled by his OAU peers as a Western puppet, they are all Mobutus now.
After the preliminaries, the former USAID senior official takes the microphone. She does not stand as she lobs a grenade into the packed hall: over the course of the 1990s, she discloses, the US State Department spent over $3 billion in Africa on a project they referred to as "experimental democracy" - shorthand for funding any manner of opposition groupings on the continent. In other words, the past decade of turmoil on the continent was no more than a lab experiment. For democracy's next frontier.
By 2016, African opposition leaders had defeated incumbents on 20 different elections around the continent - not an insignificant statistic. Incumbents were defeated, not as a result of strong institutions, but on their personal will to concede defeat, in many cases after much Western diplomatic persuasion behind the scenes.
As countries implemented the Bretton Woods shock doctrine, the democratic dividend continued to deliver diminishing returns. Electoral democracy might have expanded, but it was not delivering bread. A generation of Africans experienced electoral democracy as a political system requiring their participation, but whose promise of economic inclusion remained permanently elusive. In standard neoliberal fashion, such observations were met with responses that suggest that it is the victim that is to blame. That they must do better. As a result, African voters of the past 30 years find themselves in a vicious circle of betrayal and despair with their elected leaders. An all-consuming process, it is rarely pointed out that perhaps it is the system itself that is rigged.
Instead, the emphasis has been on conducting elections rather than genuinely enhancing the welfare of the populace. This preoccupation with procedural democracy over substantive change is evident especially among the international community.
A notable example is the 2013 ousting of Egypt's first democratically elected president, Mohamed Morsi, by current president Abdel Fattah el-Sisi. Like other coup leaders, General el-Sisi staged a superficial election in 2014, after which he was recognized as a civilian president and, despite the dubious legitimacy of the electoral process, endorsed by Washington. Ditto Tunisia, ground zero of the Arab Spring, where a constitutional tyrant arrogates ever more power to himself. Having signed treaties with the French and the EU to enforce immigration controls, his rule is indemnified against the protest movement on the street.
2024 the year of elections
In the early months of 2024, about ten countries have conducted elections. In Senegal, a memorable win for genuine pro-democracy forces in the country. Bassirou Diomaye Faye, previously an opposition leader released from prison only 10 days before the elections, won with an emphatic 54 percent majority in the first round. Echoing previous incumbents who had either conceded or not rigged in their preferred candidate as they stepped down from office, both outgoing president, Macky Sall and his preferred successor, Amadou Ba, conceded defeat, thus allowing a peaceful transition for president Faye.
This year, dubbed "the year of elections" by media, is significant, with elections scheduled in countries representing half of the global population. Seventy countries, including 17 in Africa (such as Algeria, Ghana, and Mozambique) with a collective population exceeding 330 million, are set to hold elections. South Africa, with a population over 60 million, will host the largest of these.
The Democracy Index 2023 categorizes the regime types of 44 African countries, noting Mauritius as the sole full democracy. Six countries, including South Africa and Ghana, are labelled as flawed democracies, while 14 others, like Nigeria, Senegal and Kenya, are considered hybrid regimes. The remainder, comprising 23 nations such as Ethiopia and Zimbabwe, are classified as authoritarian regimes, with Eritrea notably having never conducted an election. This contrasts with the classification of the UK and most EU countries as full democracies, whereas the USA is deemed a flawed democracy.
Challenges of Western Style Democracy
With a legacy of artificial borders and governance systems often incompatible with pre-existing ethnic, cultural, and political realities. the challenges with implementing Western-style elections in Africa were mostly under-estimated at the dawn of the democracy project in the early 1990s.
Africa's immense ethnic diversity, while a rich cultural asset, has deeply impacted national politics, especially in countries where ethnic identity strongly influences political affiliation. Within a multiparty context, this has often resulted in ethnic polarisation, with elections becoming little more than ethnic referenda rather than contests over policy or ideology. Where disputes over election results did not lead to all-out conflict, they were severe enough to erode the national cohesion developed, ironically, by the rigours of single-party one-man rule.
High levels of poverty and economic inequality posed another significant challenge, with vote-buying and patronage politics becoming prevalent. Economic pressures also limited the capacity of governments to fund and administer elections properly. International actors, including former colonial powers, international organisations, and multinational corporations, often attempted to influence African elections in favour of proxy incumbents or candidates they secretly sponsored on the presumption that such candidates would protect their interests. Such candidates would then be promoted in Western media as "reformists" or "pro-democracy" campaigners or with similar labels that communicated that they abided by the implicit rules of Western capitalism. It would be of little surprise that the ambitions of the "pro-democracy" candidate were almost invariably at odds with popular demands and aspirations. This usually became apparent after the elections, when the winning "pro-demoracy" candidate instituted a raft of painful "market reforms", usually under Bretton Woods supervision, better aligning the economy to Western requirements.
Costly Elections
At nearly USD 50 billion since 2000, the escalating costs of elections in sub-Saharan Africa have raised concerns over their impact on democratic integrity and the potential for corruption. In Nigeria, legal spending limits for presidential campaigns have increased fivefold from $ 2.4 million in 1999 to 12 million in 2023. Actual spending far exceeds these limits, with insider reports suggesting figures upwards of $300 million in the last two elections. Kenya's elections are among the continent's most expensive, with the 2022 presidential election budgeted at $374 million, or $17 per voter, and the 2017 elections costing over $686 million despite resulting in a re-run that did not alter the outcome. The cost per registered voter in 2017 was US$25.40, compared to $1.05 in Rwanda, $4 in Uganda, and $ 5.16 in Tanzania. The lavish spending, including a significant increase in helicopter usage by politicians, prompts questions about the prioritisation of electoral expenditures over community beneficial projects, highlighting a disconnect between election costs and public interest.
Marred by violence
Since the 1990s election-related violence has become an increasingly common occurrence. In some instances, elections in African countries have been marred by violence and intimidation, both during campaigning and in the aftermath of election results.
The inaugural multi-party elections in Angola in 1992, which occurred after a historic peace deal between the ruling MPLA and UNITA, the principal combatants during the civil war, which had already lasted 17 years, tragically reignited the civil war and extended it by another decade. UNITA and its leader, Jonas Savimbi, rejected the results of the election, alleging it had been rigged.
Post-election violence has been an unfortunate feature of the democratic landscape. The Ivory Coast presidential election in 2010 was notably severe, with about 3,000 deaths, re-igniting the civil war for which it was supposed to have marked an end. In Kenya, the disputed 2007/2008 elections saw more than 1,000 people dead and half a million internally displaced. In Nigeria, the 2011 post-election violence resulted in over 800 deaths in the northern strongholds of then opposition candidate, Muhammadu Buhari. Ethiopia's 2005 elections were marred by violence leading to approximately 200 fatalities. Such violence, often triggered by contested election outcomes, represents a sombre aspect of the electoral context in numerous African nations, damaging the integrity of the electoral process and fostering a sense of fear and apathy among voters.
Evolution of Africa's Electoral systems
Consider the Gada system, a traditional socio-political system practiced by the Oromo people in Ethiopia and parts of northern Kenya. It is a complex form of social organisation that governs the political, social, economic, and religious life of the community. This indigenous institution predates many modern forms of governance and democracy, showcasing elements of direct democracy, checks and balances, and the peaceful transition of power. Leaders are elected through a democratic process which includes term limits. It also includes a legislative assembly and mechanism for conflict resolution. It has been recognised by UNESCO as an Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity.
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A number of countries in Africa such as Rwanda, Senegal, Madagascar, Lesotho and Morocco employ a mixed electoral system, blending elements of proportional representation with majoritarian or plural systems, which highlight the diversity of electoral systems across Africa, with each country tailoring the mixed electoral model to its specific political, social, and historical context.
Somalia currently uses the 4.5 model, based on a power-sharing model among the four major clans, while giving minority clans a half share to improve inclusivity. Some argue the move killed the possibility of a national identity. The system got corrupted, failed to reform and with foreign regional interference, is struggling to perform. These mixed electoral systems offer a means to promote inclusivity and representation while striving for effective governance. However, the specific design and implementation of these systems can significantly impact their effectiveness and the extent to which they achieve these goals.
Other indigenous systems include the philosophy of Ubuntu (consensus building) in Southern Africa where its cultural and philosophical ethos indirectly influences the values foundational to democratic processes in societies where it's integral to cultural heritage. Its emphasis on inclusivity, communal conflict resolution, collective participation, and ethical conduct shapes the spirit and objectives of governance and elections, impacting not the technical aspects of how votes are cast and counted, but the overarching principles guiding democratic engagement and policymaking.
These traditional models, which often involve direct democracy and community consensus, might offer valuable insights for creating more effective governance structures in Africa.
30 years since electoral democracy was re-introduced, a re-evaluation of election strategies is required - one that considers a mixed approach that incorporates local traditions with modern electoral processes. This approach may better serve the interests of the African populace, addressing the endemic issues of violence, corruption, and inefficacy plaguing the current system.
This would necessitate recognition and legitimation of both systems within African cultural, historical, and political contexts. Key to this approach is engaging a broad spectrum of stakeholders to ensure the model accurately reflects Africa's diverse societies. Utilising traditional networks for voter education and mobilization can enhance participation and reduce costs. Forming electoral committees composed of both contemporary officials and traditional leaders will ensure the electoral process is transparent, fair, and locally relevant. Incorporating traditional elements into state ceremonies related to elections can also deepen the process's legitimacy and cultural resonance. Promoting decentralization through local governance structures that combine traditional and elected authority is crucial. Continuous dialogue for model refinement and the necessity of legal and constitutional adjustments to support this hybrid model are essential for its success. Implementing this model demands careful planning, extensive consultation, and phased introduction, aligning it legally and functionally within each country's governance framework.
Mohamed Kheir Omer is an African-Norwegian researcher and writer based in Oslo, Norway. He is a former member of the Eritrean Liberation Front (ELF). Parselelo ole Kantai is the Politics and Society editor at African Arguments.
