Deborah Mayersen

Risk and resilience to mass atrocities in Africa: a comparison of Rwanda and Botswana

In the 1980s, two nations in Africa stood out for their development and stability in a continent beset with famine, war and strife. Both Rwanda and Botswana earned the moniker ‘the Switzerland of Africa’ as they successfully pursued economic growth and development. But things went drastically wrong for Rwanda. In 1994, extremist elements led the most intense genocide of the twentieth century, resulting in the deaths of close to one million Tutsi and moderate Hutu in just a ninety-day period. The country was devastated and, seventeen years later, is still recovering. By contrast, Botswana has been able to maintain its strong economic growth and reputation as an oasis of stability. It has gone from one of the poorest countries in the world at its independence in 1966 to a solid middle-income nation. The presence of ethnic divisions and inequalities has not derailed Botswanas progress, which has occurred despite the presence of a number of the risk factors typically associated with nations fraught with ethnic strife. While Botswana has appeared on Genocide Watchs list of nations at risk of mass atrocities in the past, it was ranked relatively low on the scale, and has not experienced any major interethnic violence. The risk factors present in Botswana appear to have been offset by the nations multiple strengths. This article seeks to compare risk and resilience in Rwanda and Botswana. While there has been extensive analysis of what ‘went wrong’ in Rwanda, there is much less information available about what ‘goes right’ in countries like Botswana. The case studies of these two nations suggest that understanding the pathways that lead to genocide and mass atrocities not only requires a consideration of risk, but a more complex analysis of the interaction between risk factors and mitigating factors that can have a protective function.

Rethinking approaches to prevention under the responsibility to protect: agency and empowerment within vulnerable populations

Within the responsibility to protect (R2P) principle, there is an assumption that is rarely questioned. Beneath the statement that states and the international community are charged with the responsibility to protect populations from genocide, war crimes, crimes against humanity and ethnic cleansing, lies the implication that vulnerable populations cannot protect themselves. In periods of crisis, when the international community might consider mobilising a response under pillar three, this is often the case. Yet outside of such crises, when pillar one – the enduring responsibility of the state to protect its own populations – and pillar two – assistance from the international community to meet this responsibility – might be invoked in a preventive capacity, vulnerable populations may not be wholly reliant upon protection from external actors. In these circumstances, persecuted groups may actively seek to protect themselves, and may be successfully able to do so. In this paper, I challenge the current understanding of prevention within R2P as an externally imposed process, by considering how persecuted groups have themselves acted in ways that mitigate their vulnerability to mass atrocities. The paper considers a number of historical case studies in which targeted groups were able to leverage their own agency, often with assistance from others, to reduce this vulnerability. These include cases that culminated in genocide, namely the experiences of German and Austrian Jews under Nazi rule, and negative cases studies in which a demonstrable risk of mass atrocities was not realised, such as the experiences of Yemenite Jews in the first half of the twentieth century and those of the Baha’i community in Iran since the 1979 Iranian revolution. These cases suggest that assisting persecuted populations to empower themselves can be an effective way to promote resilience to mass atrocities. In the final section of the paper, I explore why this approach is often overlooked, despite its capacity for some success. I consider the potential benefits and costs of a greater focus on utilising the agency of vulnerable groups in endeavours to prevent mass atrocities.

One hundred days of horror: portraying genocide in Rwanda

This essay discusses 100 Days in the Land of the Thousand Hills, a graphic novel portraying the 1994 genocide in Rwanda. In many respects, 100 Days is a unique publication: it was produced and published by the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda; its target audience is children and youth; and it attempts not only to portray the events of the genocide but also to promote genocide prevention. In this essay, I explore how effectively 100 Days has met these ambitious goals. I argue that while the publication has prudently presented many complex aspects of the genocide, its presentation of the role of the United Nations and international community during the genocide is highly selective. The manner in which the events of the genocide are presented creates great empathy for the victims, but learning opportunities to promote genocide prevention are sometimes missed. While the graphic novel adopts a journalistic style, it is perhaps best characterised as a cultural representation of the genocide.

Reconsidering Root Causes

‘Structural prevention … comprises strategies to address the root causes of deadly conflict,’ observed the Carnegie Commission in the seminal report, Preventing Deadly Conflict (Hamburg and Vance, 1997: 69). This statement succinctly defines the dominant paradigm within research into the causes and prevention of genocide and mass atrocities. Extreme violence has been perceived as resulting from the cumulative effect of multiple risk factors or root causes. Prevention, therefore, requires the timely identification and deconstruction of these causal factors. This paradigm has been very successful in identifying a number of the long-term causes of genocide and mass atrocities, such as the presence of an ‘outgroup’ and the existence of internal strife within societies. Similarly, it has led to the identification of a range of preventive actions that may mitigate these risk factors, such as legislation to protect vulnerable minorities. Furthermore, models analysing the presence of risk factors in particular nations have enabled the development of mass atrocity risk lists for early warning purposes. Perhaps because of these successes, the assumptions that underlie the ‘root cause’ approach to the causes and prevention of genocide and mass atrocities have rarely been questioned. Yet analysis suggests that they are both flawed and unnecessarily restrictive.

Cockroaches, Cows and "Canines of the Hebrew Faith": Exploring Animal Imagery in Graphic Novels about Genocide

Graphic novels about genocide feature a surprisingly rich array of animal imagery. While there has been substantial analysis of the anthropomorphic animals in Maus, the roles and functions of nonanthropomorphised animals have received scant attention. In this article, I conduct a comparative analysis of ten graphic novels about genocide to identify and elucidate the archetypical functions of non-anthropomorphised animals. These animals can play a symbolic role, providing insight into the human condition. More commonly, they provide crucial emotional cues to the reader. Animal imagery can be a powerful technique for creating an affective context, communicating both simple and complex emotions in an effective and efficient way. This may explain the prevalence of animal imagery in graphic novels about genocide.

‘Fraternity in diversity’ or ‘feudal fanatics’? Representations of ethnicity in Rwandan presidential rhetoric

ABSTRACT Between independence in 1962 and the genocide in 1994, only two presidents ruled Rwanda. In addition to the enormous economic and developmental challenges that faced Presidents Grégoire Kayibanda (1962–73) and Juvénal Habyarimana (1973–94), each had to manage the ethnic divisions that plagued the country. In this paper Mayersen explores how each president discussed the issue of ethnicity in presidential speeches, interviews and key policy documents. Ostensibly, Presidents Kayibanda and Habyarimana both promoted national unity and advocated allegiance to a unified Rwandan identity rather than a focus on ethnicity. President Kayibanda called for ‘tolerance and understanding between the ethnicities’, while Habyarimana entreated Rwandans to ‘love your countrymen without distinction of ethnic or regional origin’. Yet in the allusive and indirect communication style typical of Rwandan discourse, underneath the presidential promotion of unity was a more complex message. Mayersen argues that the way each president addressed the issue served to maintain a high level of consciousness regarding ethnicity, and contributed to ongoing ethnic disharmony.