Financial Journalist

The Middle East June 1988

After decades of dispute, Somalia implicitly dropped its claims to Ethiopia’s Ogaden territory earlier this year - at least for the time being. President Siyad Barre has more pressing problems on his mind. In Eritrea, the prolonged war for independence has turned in the rebels’ favour. Gerard O’Kane surveys the state of conflict in the region.

Both the Somali and Ethiopian governments have signed an agreement which is expected to have far-reaching effects on the rebel stuggle in both countries. The negotiations for the April agreement were concluded under the cover of a two-day summit of the Inter-Governmental Authority on Drought and Development in Djibouti in late March. A secret meeting between the Ethiopian president Mengistu Haile Mariam and Somali’s president, Mohammed Siyad Barre, took place for two hours on 21 March to try and conclude sporadic peace talks which have been going on for several months in an effort to solve a decade old border dispute.

In essence, the agreement sets up a military commission to supervise the withdrawal of all troops from within nine miles of the disputed border in the Ogaden region. It also restores official diplomatic relations between the two states for the first time in over ten years, As a gesture of goodwill, Ethiopia has also handed back the border towns of Goldogob and Ballanballe that they have occupied since 1982 following a border skirmish. More important for both sides is the acceptance that neither state will interfere in the other country’s internal politics. It is this provision that enables both sides to perceive solid gains.

Following the 1977-78 Ogaden war, when Somali troops invaded the disputed Ethiopian territory of mainly Somali-speaking Ogaden, the Ethiopians became involved with supporting rebels in Somalia’s northern territories. When independence came in 1960, the northern British colony joined the southern Italian territory to create the state of Somalia. With the 1969 military coup of Siyad Barre, who introduced a one party socialism, the north began to feel ignored, both economically and politically. The discontent led to the rise of the Somali Nationalist Movement (SNM) which has been involved in an armed, albeit limited, struggle against Barre’s government.

After the Ethiopian army, with massive military aid from both the Soviet Union and Cuba, repulsed the Somali attack in 1978, it began supporting the SNM. Apart from moral and military support, the Ethiopians also gave the SNM access to radio transmitters in Addis Ababa.

Under the new agreement Ethiopia will stop all assistance to the SNM, leaving them without a safe base of operations. For the Somali government, it means the strong-arm policies of General Mohammed Hersi, who operates in the north and holds the northern capital of Hargeisa under his control, are more likely to succeed than hitherto. It also means that some of the Somali army can be redeployed from the Ogaden border to the north.

For the Ethiopians there are similar advantages. The Somali government has supported the Western Somali Liberation Front, which operates in the Ogaden and will now be forced to cut its links. But most important for the Ethiopians is the fact that the agreement frees many of its divisions stationed in the south and the east to go to the warfronts in Eritrea and Tigray. Apart from the military necessity to release troops, following the massive defeats on the Nacfa front by the Eritrean Peoples Liberation Front, when over 10,000 Ethiopian soldiers were killed and the strategic town of Afabet was captured, it also has economic implications. Half of the country’s national budget is spent on these wars and for the first time early this year the Ethiopian foreign minister, Berhanu Bayeh, admitted that the Eritrean conflict was bleeding the nation to death. It has also has become apparent that Soviet support for the Mengistu regime is weakening. Soviet diplomats have told their peers in Addis Ababa that they are becoming increasingly frustrated with the unwinnable war in the north. The Soviet sea base on the Dalak Islands remains undeveloped and there are indications that the Soviets want less and less to do with Mengistu. As a result of the April agreement, the Ethiopians have already transferred nearly 90,000 troops to the north according to the EPLF, including some mechanised brigades.

While both sides must be relieved to have some sort of peace enabling them to tackle their own internal problems more effectively, there are whispers of dissent in Somalia. Major General Adan Abullahi Nur, the Somali minister of defence, expressed dissatisfaction with the agreement in private, saying that he believes that Barre has accepted the present Ogaden border and has sold out the interests of the Somali speaking people in the region.

Somalia, Eritrea fights, Ethiopia, Siyad Barre

New African February 1988

Mrs Margaret Thatcher and President Moi both needed each other’s mutual support when she made her recent visit. She sipped tea and tasted Kenyan hospitality but closed her eyes and ears to a whole range of nagging problems that are gnawing at the Kenyan body politic. Gerry O’Kane reports.

Mrs Thatcher’s trip to Kenya produced no surprises — not that many were expected. It was a case of you slap my back, I’ll slap yours.

For both Mrs Thatcher and President Moi there was something to be gained from being especially diplomatic. President Moi wouldn’t embarrass the British premier by an uncompromising demand that sanctions should be imposed on South Africa and Mrs Thatcher turned a blind eye to Kenya’s recent political record, including human rights abuses.

On the positive side Mrs Thatcher likes to hold Kenya up to the other black African states and say ‘Look what a success capitalism and democracy is’. She also believes Moi is a loyal guardian of the $1 billion of British investments and the naval facilities the UK can use on the Indian Ocean. The Kenyan leader is pleased because his own image is enhanced - Moi, the world statesman. Kenya is also the biggest recipient of British oversees African aid.

No one really expected Mrs Thatcher to publicly tackle President Moi, indeed some claim that her visit had a calming effect before she arrived. The Uganda/Kenya border dispute quietened just as quickly as it had started. Mid-December saw shots swapped across the frontier at Busia with each side blaming the other for military incursions into their territory or the drunken ransacking of their property by opposing military personnel.

The death toll varied from side to side and day to day but anywhere from 16 to 30 people died, mostly civilians. Both sides had approximately 2,000 troops facing each other, with Ugandan soldiers digging trenches in anticipation of a Kenyan attack.

By the time President Museveni sat down and talked the problem out, Kenya had expelled Uganda’s High Commissioner and his deputy. They met at the border town of Malaba three days after Christmas. Moi agreed to help Uganda in exporting its coffee and importing its fuel, while Uganda agreed to disassemble its anti-aircraft guns and artillery, recently put in place. Both sides pulled their troops back.

The most positive statement came from Kampala radio, which commented “We are confident that the spirit the leaders of our two countries have demonstrated will guide us in working out permanent solutions to all our problems.” The Kenyans on the other hand have treated the breakthrough with some coolness, perhaps indicating it might have been done to make Mrs Thatcher’s passage easier.

Similarly the release of three detainees in December was thought to have been done to ward off the brunt of criticism of Kenya’s recent human rights record.

Kuria’s release
One of the three was Gibson Kamau Kuria, a well-known Kenyan lawyer. He disappeared sometime in February, soon after he gave notice of intending to sue the state on behalf of three clients detained under the Preservation of Security Act. Although partners in his law firm applied for habeus corpus for Kuria, he, like the clients he had been representing and dozens of other political detainees, was not produced in court on the grounds that the detention order was made the day after the application for habeus corpus. This was despite the fact that he had disappeared for several weeks before the application for habeus corpus. Kuria was detained on the grounds that he was involved with the undergound dissident movement Mwakenya but others believe it was because he was prepared to defend political detainees as part of his professional obligation. Kuria’s case was interesting because it was a text book example of how the detentions of suspected political opponents operate and their treatment in detention. On his release he made public statements accusing his interrogators of torture. He was held for most of the time at Special Branch’s headquarters in Nyayo House - a mere several hundred yards from State House where Mrs Thatcher and President Moi met.

The Special Branch, which reports to the President’s Office not the Commissioner of Police, has been accused by both Amnesty international and Kuria of beating prisoners.

One of the principle methods of torture seems to be the ’swimming pool’. Prisoners’ basement cells are filled with two inches of water for several days. Occasionally the prisoners are sprayed with high powered jet hoses. Frequently the skin peels during this time causing blistering and open, infectious wounds. Some victims develop bronchitis and pneumonia.

The objective of the torture on detainees is to get them to plead guilty to political offences such as belonging to the shadowy left-wing group known as Mwakenya. Amnesty has detailed over 75 prisoners who have pleaded guilty to political offences, most of whom spent time in Special Branch detention. The guilty pleas highlight how the Kenyan judicial system has been compromised. The detainees who plead guilty in court rarely mention torture - they later claim they have been warned not to. Some have asked the judge to allow them medical treatment. Many have appealed their cases on the basis that their confessions had been under duress but these fail since no such claim was made at their original trial.

Most of the cases have been seen at unusual times before magistrate Mr H. H. Buch, who has ignored the curious fact that medical attention is so frequently requested.

The independence of the judiciary has been called into question on several other occasions. Lawyers claim that police officers and security personnel are now allowed in judges’ chambers when the defence and prosecution advocates are consulting with the judge. Following a series of curious legal precedents surrounding the case of farmer Stephen Karanja, who was shot dead while in police custody, Mr Justice Derek Schofield who originally ordered the police to produce the body, resigned from the bar.

The issue of Mwakenya is thought to be one of the major catalysts in many of the more recent restrictions. While no leaders of the group are known, nor how many members it has, President Moi has reacted to it with paranoia. Seen as mainly a Kikuyu tribal group, although there is little to substantiate this, Moi is worried it may become the new Man Mau. As the largest tribe he is afraid that Kikuyu discontent, especially over land issues, may rise to the surface and threaten his power.

Scapegoats needed
The problem also comes at a time when he announced that a deficit in Kenya’s balance of trade is expected to last for the next three years. As a result President Moi is hunting for scapegoats to account for the bad economy - the unpatriotic and secret opposition and heading of international criticism from the press and Amnesty.

The domestic press has always been wary of becoming too sensitive and practises a form of self-censorship. This has become worse with government informers working within newsrooms and warning the President’s Office of stories likely to cause embarrassment. Moi himself has called the chairman of the Nation newspapers to pull out a front page story concerning the then foreign minister Elijah Mwangale.

Similarly none of the domestic press printed the open letter to the President from Oginga Odinga, a former vice-president and socialist, who wrote “public debate on national issues and policies have been stifled and genuine constructive criticism of government and party policies is treated as sedition or treasonable offence”. Instead statements criticising Odinga on certain sections of the previously unmentioned document appeared later.

The Kenyan press has all but discontinued its reporting of Mwakenya trials and claims of illegal detentions following a government suggestion that they turn their attention to other matters. It became obvious it was a good idea following the detention of Paul Amina a Kenyan court reporter, who had frequently reported on these cases for both the Kenyan Standard and Reuters. Instead its attention has turned to government ’sanctioned’ stories reporting on the bias of the western press, particularly the BBC and Voice of America. Foreign journalists have been warned not to abuse the hospitality of Kenya. In a series of actions which correspondents describe as intimidation, new rules have been introduced governing the application for accreditation. Some of the prerequisites are impossible to fulfil — for example, neither the US nor Soviet journalists have their careers in their passports and under the new regulations are theoretically not entitled to accreditation.

Public indignation over the foreign press has increased as well. Letters appear in the papers demanding that foreign reporters should have their movements restricted as has already been done to Swedish and Norwegian journalists who must outline where they want to go, and why, before entering the country. Two such letters about journalists appeared on October 19 in the Standard, however neither the phone book nor the PO box directory had anybody of the same names or addresses.

Many of the journalists argue that they have suffered other forms of intimidation too. Some claim their post has been interfered with, others say that it is increasingly difficult to follow up stories.

One Ugandan refugee under the protection if UNHCR, said that he was detained on July 25 by Special Branch. He was picked up immediately after talking to Voice of America and AP stringer Colin Clark, an Australian diplomat and an American businessman, Alan Shick. Originally held at Nyati House and moved from police station to police station, Zachary Ochieng, claims he was tortured and only questioned about the connection he had with Clark. He was released four weeks later. Government officials say he was picked up as a suspect for a theft. Coincidentally Alan Shick was questioned by Special Branch two nights before he was brutally murdered in his home.

Most of the recent developments in Kenyan political life are seen as providing the President with scapegoats. Amnesty International is, for example, labelled as being South African to discredit its detailed reports of torture. Similarly the prosecution of Asians for failing to repatriate currency to Kenya provides a focus for the population’s increasing discontent over the economy.

Thatcher, President Moi, Kenya, human rights

New African June 1987

Prime Minister Robert Mugabe sees Zimbabwe’s seven years of Independence as something akin to a religious experience. Gerry O’Kane takes a look at the miracles yet to come.

AT MIDNIGHT April 17 1987, Zimbabwe celebrated its seventh year of Independence. Although within those seven years the country has been transformed from a war ravaged state to a solid, confident (and in many business areas, profitable) state, it still faces problems. “They have not been quite the biblical seven fat years, nor have they always been thin. We have had a mixture of fat and thin cows. . .” said Prime Minister, Robert Mugabe, in his televised National Day Address.

As if to show the nation what a thin cow looked like, buried in the middle of his speech was the announcement of the breakdown of unity talks: “In regard to the Zapu-Zanu relationship, I am sorry to say that we have been deadlocked for far too long on the question and the Central Committee of my party has recently decided that the talks be discontinued.” As a result the following day’s celebrations were rather subdued when the national hope for unity faded. Dr Joshua Nkomo, leader of Zapu, responded to the statement by leaving Harare the next day and driving to Bulawayo for talks with senior members of his party. He ignored the independence anniversary celebrations planned for the 18th in the new £30m sports stadium, but in an interview the same day Nkomo said that the breakdown in the talks was only a temporary setback and told the nation to be cool and collected.

The two parties, under the auspices of their leaders, had been talking for over 18 months. They began as a result of riots in Harare following the July 1985 elections, when Zanu supporters attacked anyone thought to have voted for Zapu. Mugabe was constantly faced with dissent from members of his own party during the talks. One obstacle was a fear among some of his ministers that an agreement would mean Zapu staff taking positions from them, both in government and party.

Neither has he been able to effectively deal with his own ministers accused of corruption and incompetence.

These are not his only problems. At home there is growing discontent with the economy even though certain sectors are booming. There has been an increase in education for the young by over 300 per cent but youth unemployment has reached nearly 25 per cent. Even the new stadium used for the anniversary celebrations has come under attack - £30m was too much to pay.

White seats
The anniversary also meant that the, clock had run out for the 20 white seats guaranteed during the Lancaster House talks. Now it means that the separate register of white voters for 20 seats in the parliament can be amended by a vote of 70-30. Mugabe has shown great patience in scupulously observing the constitution drawn up at Lancaster House, despite continuous harassment from former Rhodesian Prime Minister Ian Smith (who was banned from Parliament in April), but has said “We shall soon rid ourselves of racial representation”. The 70 votes needed to get rid of the white seats will have to include votes from Nkomo’s Zapu but even with the breakdown in the unity talks, it is unlikely Mugabe will have any difficulty getting support.

One further problem for Mugabe on this front, is what to do with the white electorate after the seats have been abolished. It is far too near the last general election in 1985, to call another with an electoral roll including the whites. Mugabe is hoping that everyone will be reasonable enough to hang on until the 1990 elections for their vote. In the meantime it is expected that the white seats will be filled by people nominated by an electoral college of the 100 MPs, before the whites lose their seats. It is expected that whites will still be represented.

In foreign policy, too, Zimbabwe faces the ‘thin cows’. South Africa’s recent attack into southern Zambia, while probably politically steeling the Frontline states, also creates fear. While Zimbabwe has long been aware of this and knows how important it is to shake itself loose from South Africa’s economic grip, ‘thin cows’ seem to attack every solution.

Zimbabwe’s economic and military involvement in reopening Mozambique’s ports and rail links have, up until now, been successful. Both parties have encouraged foreign financial help and created a more secure Beira corridor than has been seen for some time. But from Mugabe’s point of view it has been an expensive exercise, both economically and in terms of military morale. His 15,000 troops are beginning to ask why they should fight someone else’s war, particularly without any benefits in their wage packet or their bellies.

Official optimism
Overall Mugabe seems optimistic for the future of Zimbabwe and certainly the whites seem quite happy with the way things are going - the farms and firms are making money. Nevertheless, judging by the amount of time he spent in his speech on the problems of South Africa and how he announced the dissolution of the unity talks, Robert Mugabe knows he has problems in the future.

Zimbabwe seventh year of Independence, Mugabe

New African April 1986

Even as NRA leader Yoweri Museveni settled down in Kampala, fleeing UNLA soldiers were causing havoc in the Karamoja region. These reports followed stories that made it clear the Karamoja had been exploited as a remote and backward area. Aid supplies had been obstructed and the region was used as a UNLA recruiting ground. Gerard O’Kane reports.

TWO WEEKS after Thomas left Karamoja to join the Ugandan National Liberation Army (UNLA), he returned to Moroto looking for his old job back with the Karamoja Development Project. He had become a ‘wealthy’ man, displaying his new stereo cassette player. It was looted.

About the same time, Simon, a 14-year-old boy who had worked for VSO as a carpenter came home. He was lifted from a truck with five comrades and carried in a makeshift wooden coffin to the mortuary. Although it was missing a leg, people were surprised to see a corpse at all.

The population of Uganda’s most north-easterly province is well used to death, having hosted an unpublicised famine and incident after incident of armed lawlessness. Aid workers there saw a major recruitment drive by the UNLA during late 1985 and consider it to have been exploitation by the Government. One aid worker said, “They were prepared to let the people starve to death earlier this year, even though there was enough food in the country.” They claimed that the Karamajong were recruited as ‘cannon-fodder’.

Starving
The lack of normal government interest in the area is obvious. It is the only province that has no bitumen roads, and the regional health commissioner prefers to spend his year in Kampala. Famine relief was hindered. Aid workers, unwilling to be identified, told me that of the 700 tonnes of grain the World Food Programme distributed from their Moroto base, only half made it to the starving. They accused the two District Commissioners, who controlled the distribution, of organising its theft and selling it to local merchants.

Documented proof of such claims is difficult to get. When one WFP official did begin checks on grain levels, his Landrover was ambushed and raked with, bullets. Unfortunately another member of WFP had borrowed it. Mons, a lanky Swede managed to get away and was hit only once. But his arm had to be amputated. His colleagues believe it was a case of mistaken identity and the ambush was meant to stop the grain checks. It did.

Grain losses dogged the famine relief programme. At one stage WFP was so short of grain that other aid groups had to go elsewhere for their food. They found ample supplies on the farms of southern Uganda.

Losses were not confined to Moroto. For example, following the July coup, soldiers cleaned out two WFP warehouses in Jinja. By this time another WFP official on temporary secondment to Karamoja alleged that only one per cent of grain arriving in Mombasa was being distributed to the tribesmen. Both Kampala and the UN WFP headquarters in Rome ignored the claim. They also ignored the frequent attacks on aid vehicles by bandits.

When the Military Council found itself losing ground to Museveni’s soldiers, it sent the only Karamajong in the Government, to his homeland to recruit soldiers. Notices were nailed to trees offering generous pay, and ex-officers’ were asked to rejoin. They were promised their old rank and payment of wages for the years between their leaving the army and re-enlistment.

Conscripted
Not all recruitment practices were so legitimate. When I visited the region, locals claimed that some county chiefs were forced to fill recruitment quotas, while at the Kidepo game park, on the Sudan border, it was claimed that the experienced rangers had been conscripted into the UNLA. By December, sources in the British High Commission in Kampala estimated that 2,000 Karamajong had joined. Aid workers put the figure nearer 9,000.

There were conflicting reports about where the Karamajong were being sent. Deserters claimed to have served in the infamous Luwero triangle, while NRA sources told me several had been killed during the battle for Katonga Bridge.

But it is clear that these new recruits were being sent into battle ill-trained. Within two weeks of the first buses and trucks leaving Moroto, bodies were being sent back and the looters returned. Some aid workers believe this was the deliberate policy of the former military council. Returning deserters, rich in loot, would attract more recruits, while dead bodies would encourage revenge. Ironically, the Acholi, who make up the majority of the UNLA, are the Karamajong’s traditional enemies. Since early in 1985, when 30 UNLA troops were killed in an ambush on their truck by tribesmen, the army has been loathe to travel through the region. Skirmishes have been frequent over the past two years, caused by regular and bloody cattle raiding using automatic weapons. Only days before I passed through Siroko, in the Teso tribal area south of the Karamoja region, residents claimed Karamajong had killed 20 villagers in a cattle raid.

In response to these raids, the Government has sent the army, fronted by Teso militiamen, on destroy missions, to teach the Karamajong a lesson. The village of Monta, 50 kms from the Kenya border bears witness to such a mission. It remains deserted more than a year after the operation.

Aid work is hindered
Now Okello’s men have retreated in disarray from the advancing National Resistance Army, most returning to their northern homelands. The destabilisation of the West Nile province and the Acholi territory seems unavoidable but the Karamoja, no matter what had been the outcome of the December peace agreement, is due to slip further into the morass of violent anarchy.

With the Karamajong having returned home in large numbers, armed from their self-interested support of the Acholi dominated UNLA, the area will be destabilised even further. Cattle raiding will resume into Kenya and Sudan and Government control will slacken further. It is doubtful that any regime, however well intentioned, could solve Karamoja’s problems.

That leaves the aid organisations with the task of developing a region governed by corrupt and ruthless civil servants and patrolled by primitive, yet well-armed bandits. Although the famine has now passed and several organisations are heavily committed to long-term development, Karamoja’s future does not look bright.

Karamoja, Uganda, Military council, NRA