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Class Accumulation and Personal Aggrandisement

In an interview with ROAPE’s Tunde Zack-Williams, roape.net asks about his background as an activist and a scholar and his research as a radical political economist who has written extensively on Sierra Leone. Zack focuses on the country’s recent history, it political parties, Blair’s intervention and the disasters of neoliberal reforms.

Can you please tell roape.net a little bit about your background? Where you grew up and studied and your research and academic work with ROAPE.

I was born in Freetown, Sierra Leone and on completion of my secondary education, I moved to Liverpool to complete my ‘A levels’ and then to study for a degree in sociology at Liverpool University. I later gained a university award from Salford University where I pursued a master’s degree by thesis only, on ‘Underdevelopment and Economic Planning in West Africa with Special Relations to Sierra Leone’, looking at the Governments’ five-year development plan. My award was for two years, but I was able to submit my thesis after one year, to enable me to take up an Economic and Social Science Council award from the Department of Sociological Studies at Sheffield University, for my doctorate. My thesis was on ‘Underdevelopment and Diamond Mining in Sierra Leone’. I was keen to find out why Sierra Leone, like so many countries on the continent, was rich in minerals and yet poor and underdeveloped.

In Sheffield, my supervisors were Ankie Hoogvelt and one of the founding editors of ROAPE, Lionel Cliffe. I also linked up with Josep R. Llobera, who through his home journal, Critique of Anthropology, introduced me to the works of the French Marxist anthropologist: Claude Meillassoux, Pierre Phillipe Rey, George Balandier, Catherine Coquery-Vidrovtch, Maurice Godelier, and other Marxists such as C.F.S. Cardoso, Paul Hirst and Barry Hindess, who taught me in Liverpool.

On completion of my PhD, I took up a position at Bayero University in Kano, Nigeria and later moved on to Jos University, where I had the unique privilege of working with the late great Omafume Onoge, a superb sociologist taught by Talcott Parsons, but, who totally rejected the work of his teacher. He was a great comrade, a wonderful motivator and an extremely helpful to young academics. I am pleased to say that we were able to transform sociology in Jos into a radical Africa-relevant discipline. After five years in Nigeria, I returned to Britain to take up a teaching position at the University of Central Lancashire, in Preston. I have been involved with ROAPE ever since my return to the UK in the 1980s when I was invited to join the EWG or as Lionel liked to say, ‘The ROAPE Family’. Working with ROAPE is the best ‘job’ for any radical scholar on Africa.

Elections were held in Sierra Leone on 7 March, we thought it would be important for our readers to have some background to recent events in the country. The civil war in Sierra Leone began in 1991 and was declared officially over in 2002 after the UK, UN, and regional African military intervention. Can you speak briefly about the period of the civil war, its causes and consequences?

The election of 7 March 2018 was the first election to be organized solely by the Sierra Leone government since the end of the civil war in 1991, and as such there was great interest in how this would turn out, as the country continues the process of consolidating peace. The country’s politics has been dominated by what Yusuf Bangura has described as a duopoly: that of the Sierra Leone People’s Party (SLPP), the country’s oldest functioning political organization, with much of its support drawn from the south and eastern districts; and that of the All People’s Congress (APC), with support mainly from the North and Western Area, which includes Freetown, the capital. Since independence, the SLPP has been in power from 1961-1967, and 2002-2007; the APC from 1968-1992, a period of 24 years culminating in the ‘dictatorship of the one-party state’ a major causal factor for the civil war. APC was returned to power in 2007 under the Presidency of Ernest Bai Koroma, after a short period in the political wilderness, with the electorate seemingly punishing the party for its role in precipitating the country’s civil war. The party was able to retain power from 2007- 2018.

“Both parties in the country have been accused of widespread corruption, electoral malpractices, political thuggery and total disregard for the basic needs of working people”

In terms of governance, there is very little that differentiates the two parties: both are sworn to indirect despotism via chiefdom overlords known as Paramount Chiefs, renowned for their extreme brutality and unjust treatment of young men whose grievances impelled many to take up arms, which led to the civil war. Furthermore, both parties have recklessly embarked on widespread embezzlement with impunity. Despite the radical rhetoric of the APC and the trade union roots of its founder, there is no evidence of the party privileging the producers of the nation’s wealth. Its stance on economic and social issues can hardly be differentiated from that of its rival, SLPP. Indeed, because of its intolerance of democratic values and the lack of economic transparency, the APC has done a lot to undermine not only the rights of the labouring classes but also the country’s democracy. For example, in its current term, it has sought to change the constitution and to appoint judges who would ratify their policies to change the constitution, either to extend its time in office and to disqualify opponents on the spurious ground.  It is important to remember that though the APC has ruled Sierra Leone for most of its post-independence years, it has not handed over power either peacefully or, to a civilian successor regime – they had to be removed from power after 24 years by a military coup.

Both parties have historically been enmeshed in the politics of primordial loyalties, leading to widespread dissatisfaction and alienation from the centre. Both parties have been accused of widespread corruption, electoral malpractices, political thuggery and total disregard for the basic needs of working people.  Meanwhile, the nation’s land resources (diamonds, iron ore) and sea resources (fish and oil) are being mortgaged to international companies without any public discussion or accountability. These actions have brought widespread dissatisfaction with the ruling APC, as the standard of living of people continues to deteriorate.

It is this sense of hopelessness stemming from years of social and economic deprivation triggered by corruption and the fallout from years of structural adjustment policies imposed on the Sierra Leonean people throughout the 1980, that impelled young men and women to take up arms in 1991 to rectify the situation, by getting rid of the corrupt APC regime led by Joseph Momoh, that refused to conduct free and fair elections. In the post-civil war years hardly anything has changed: if anything the corruption of the Kabba regime of 1998-2007 seems amateurish compared to the widespread malfeasance under the regime of the Ernest Bai Koroma. His Government has been accused of squandering millions of dollars raised from overseas, destined for Ebola victims; also money destined for pilgrims undertaking the haj; as well as money raised for victims of last year’s flood.

The government has been accused by its critics of failing to account for proceeds from the sale of the 476-carat diamond handed over to Koroma by a miner thought to have been sold for $7.7 million. Meanwhile, the social and physical infrastructures are at breaking point as children are educated in dilapidated buildings; virtually all Sierra Leone school children in the country are schooled via a dual shift system: one set in the morning and one in the afternoon, due to lack of teaching infrastructure. Many state employees go for months without wages or salary. Sierra Leoneans are appalled that large portions of their natural resources, such as fisheries, diamonds, iron ore and fertile land have been mortgaged to foreign concerns.

“A sense of hopelessness stemming from years of social and economic deprivation triggered by corruption and years of structural adjustment policies imposed on the Sierra Leonean people throughout the 1980s, impelled young men and women to take up arms in 1991” 

There is widespread dissatisfaction with both parties and Sierra Leoneans had become tired of the political intrigue of the two parties whom they described by the sobriquet as ‘Alhassan’ and ‘Alusine’, meaning that they are identical twins, with the same bankrupt and exploitative policies. However, the arrival of a third force, the National Grand Coalition (NGC), led by Alhaji Dr Kandeh Yumkella, seems to have offered a new alternative and injected new enthusiasm into the election campaign in the mind of voters. Kandeh Yumkella, popularly known as KKY is leader of the recently formed third force, the National Grand Coalition, which is a new political group, recently registered as a political party to contest this year’s election, not before overcoming some legal shenanigan placed in his path by the APC government, who fearful of the enthusiasm of the NGC campaign decided that the best way to defeat Yumkella was by denying him the opportunity to stand by claiming that he held dual nationality status from his period in the United States. Despite the production of documents showing that he had renounced his American citizenship, the APC still pursued their fight for his disqualification.

Yumkella is not new to Sierra Leone politics: his father was a founder member of the opposition SLPP and Yumkella’s initial wish was to be given the party’s backing; to enable him to run as their presidential candidate, and this is not surprising, since he was a minister in the last SLPP government under Tejan Kabba. However, Yumkella faced strong competition from an SLPP stalwart in the person of ex-Brigadier Maada Bio, a member of what Jimmy Kandeh has referred to as West Africa’s ‘militariat’; who in January 1996 seized power from Captain Strasser to lead a blood-thirsty regime that killed over two dozen innocent people on trumped-up charges including sedition and planning to overthrow his military regime.   

Yumkella’s failure to obtain SLPP backing and the subsequent founding of the NGC presented an opportunity for the country to engage in ‘new politics’: one that demands accountability, transparency, clearly defined line between public and private property, the rule of law, separation of powers between the executive and the judiciary; as well as bringing an end to the hegemony of the duopoly who, largely pedalled ethnicity, violence and thuggery. Barely a few months before the elections, Yumkella announced the founding the NGC challenge the duopoly with a programme, which the country has never heard of: including demands for political and economic accountability, urging voters to bring to an end the hopeless duel. Unfortunately, critics have pointed out that it is doubtful if the NGC will have enough time to convince voters that they are a truly different brand of politics. At the same time critics have pointed out that the NGC has attracted some unsavory characters, particularly from the Sierra Leone Diaspora. The party’s performance in the first round election was quite disappointing to its supporters, which point to the entrenchment of the duopoly, with their chiefly support in the rural areas. It took the APC the best part of a decade from its inception to its first victory in a national election to unseat the SLPP in the 1967 general elections.

Some claimed the intervention was Tony Blair’s greatest moment, as a case of successful humanitarian intervention. What’s your understanding of the impact of the intervention on Sierra Leone?

In the book When the State Fails: Studies on Intervention in the Sierra Leone Civil War, which I edited with contributions from a number of Sierra Leonean academics we tried to address the issue of Britain’s intervention and the lessons to be learned from the traumatic experiences of the civil war.

First, we have to return to the question why Blair sent British troops. The pretext was to evacuate British and Commonwealth citizens as the violence spread to the capital, Freetown. Second, the aim was to save the United Nations peacekeeping force from humiliation following attacks from the Westside Boys, a faction of the rebels fighting the government, who had captured UN military vehicles and a number of UN soldiers. Third, we recall that the Sierra Leone conflict was the first test for Tony Blair’s New Labour ‘ethical foreign policy’ much heralded by Foreign Secretary, Robin Cook.

“The intervention of British troops was followed by heavy doses of neo-liberalism, resulting in further shrinking of the state and the proliferation of non-accountable non-governmental organizations”

Clearly, Sierra Leoneans were grateful for the intervention of British troops, which eventually brought peace to their country. However, it is doubtful if they were so thankful with the ‘liberal peace project’ that was imposed on them, the object of which was, according to one commentator, protect ‘the hegemonic and economic interests of the Western world in Africa.’  

The liberal peace was followed by heavy doses of neo-liberalism, resulting in further shrinking of the state and the proliferation of non-accountable non-governmental organizations, and decentralization which left young people at the mercy of unscrupulous traditional rulers. Again, in When the State Fails, Jimmy D. Kandeh was skeptical as to whether neo-liberalism orthodoxy can either act as an antidote to armed conflicts in Africa or, as a model for development in post-conflict societies, since it seeks to transfer the ‘best practices of Western societies to the rest of the world via the Weberian state and seeks to achieve this at lightning pace.’  Indeed, the post-war regimes in Sierra Leone, in particular, the outgoing regime of Ernest Koroma, can be truly described as a kleptocracy – where is Mr Blair to clip the wings of his vassal?

Can you give a brief description of the imposition of neoliberalism in the country after the conflict?  

If I can answer this question broadly, I was accused by a comrade (in ROAPE) of describing Morten Jerven or his work as ‘Marxist’. Indeed, what I welcomed in Jerven’s book is the emphasis on how ‘bourgeois economists’ (and that’s a phrase I used when the book was launched at SOAS) have got many things wrong about Africa {[read a discussion of Jerven’s book on roape.net]. My reference to Andre Gunder Frank and Rene Dumont was simply to draw a comparison to the challenges these two authors posed to bourgeois – for Jerven ‘mainstream’ – economists and domestic policymakers. In my view Jerven’s point about growth in Africa, helps us to date the origin of the contemporary ‘African crisis’, in particular, that though there were peaks and troughs, growth continued until the period of the OPEC oil price increases, which culminated in growing balance of payment problems, which led to the long road to the IMF and World Bank, culminating in the destructive structural adjustment programmes (SAP).

SAPs did not address the specific needs of African economies; they simply forced overproduction of primary commodities, and thereby lowering the cost of raw materials for Western industrial producers, whilst the cost of importing manufactured goods increased as the currency under SAPs continued to depreciate in value. The lords of the capitalist world impelled African leaders to transform the African state into a class instrument for accumulation and personal aggrandisement, where the wealth produced in Sierra Leone, for example, ends up in the developed capitalist centre, in the form of real estate or huge bank deposits – resources that were designed to drive development.   

In these elections, please describe for us the major players, who have been in power and what the situation is currently like in the country. In addition, what role has foreign powers and investors played in the country since 2002?

Basically, there are five major players in this election. First, President Ernest Bai Koroma, the outgoing leader and head of the ruling All People’s Congress, who has been in power for the past decade, but went beyond his constitutional right to stay in office and this was challenged all along by the opposition parties. It is a truism that Koroma who was an insurance broker has transformed himself into one of the richest men in the African continent. Koroma was bent on continuing in the path of his predecessor, Siaka Probyn Steven, who ruled Sierra Leone with an iron fist and destroyed the democratic foundations laid by Sir Milton Margai, the country’s first Prime Minister and in its place built a one-party dictatorship. Koroma continuously interfered with the constitution in a bid to reinstate the one-party state that brought misery and civil war to the country. Unfortunately for Sierra Leoneans, the APC are masters of winning elections, and they have never handed power to a civilian successor- may be 2018 will bring a new dawn for the party whose symbol is the rising sun.

“The lords of the capitalist world impelled African leaders to transform the state into a class instrument for accumulation and personal aggrandizement, where the wealth produced in countries like Sierra Leone ends up in the developed capitalist centre”

The second major player is Brigadier Maada Bio for the SLPP, usually referred to as ‘Paopa Maada’, i.e. willy-nilly he was going to get the party’s nomination. Bio believed that he was destined to lead the SLPP (which he did in the last election and lost), and eventually his country. Like Koroma, who comes from a major ethnic group, the Temnes from the North and Central; Paopa Maada comes from the other major ethnic group the Mende. These two groups (in what Yusuf Bangura calls bipolar ethnic structure) account for over 60% of the total Sierra Leone population. As noted earlier, Bio became notorious during the civil when some thirty people were summarily executed by the junta that he led, allegedly for plotting to overthrow his regime. A rumour among Sierra Leoneans (unsubstantiated so far) is that he could be arrested if he enters the USA. In the first round of the election both Bio (for the SLPP) and Koroma’s protégé Samura Kamara did well to move on to the second round, this is not surprising given the ethnic bifurcated nature of the population as well as the duopoly, which defined party politics in the country. They both did well since in the bifurcated state that is Sierra Leone, to carry one of these two major ethnic constituencies undivided is a great asset. In the current campaigning, SLPP supporters have tended to be loyal and disciplined in their support for Paopa Maada.

By contrast, the APC leadership under Koroma, after trying to play one potential candidate off against the other, he has been accused by opponents within the APC of breaking party rules, by personally choosing Samura Mathew Wilson Kamara, a former banker with the central bank as the party’s candidate.  This is not a new phenomenon with the APC, and despite its external ‘socialist’ façade (red colour and the rising sun) the party is not strong on socialist values: unions and workers play little role in decision making, its policies are not geared towards empowering the ‘damne de la terre’ of society, indeed, it valorises the rich and empower them to literally get away with murder. Its leadership is more an oligarchy than a democratic central committee. When the party leader and first President of Sierra Leone decided to retire from office, he did not ask the party to choose a successor, nor did he nominate his heir apparent and deputy President, S. I. Koroma, instead he decided to name his Force Commander, Major-General Saidu Momoh, a fellow member from the minority Limba ethnic group (8% of the total population) to be his successor. Samura Kamara’s detractors point out that he is a Koroma’s puppet and that should he win, Koroma will return as a back-street driver, and like Joseph Momoh, there will be no need for him to be called to account for his stewardship.

You are a radical scholar-activist of African politics and have worked in the field for decades. Can you tell us about your experience, and lessons, from these years and the continued importance of a project of radical transformation and politics in Africa?

My search for an intellectual home within radical scholarly activity is the product of growing up in Sierra Leone, an unequal society, where children are treated as lesser mortals, especially those without guardians. The statistics on Sierra Leone relating to children are abominable: one of the highest infant mortality rates, poor figures on access to education, especially for girls. My desire has always been to understand the social forces behind oppressions and underdevelopment in Africa in order to call time on reactionaries. As noted above I have been lucky to have encountered people on the left, who provided me with theoretical space to reflect on these and other issues as tools not only for my own development but also for investigative reasons. Thus when I took up teaching in Nigeria, I was surprised that  many of my students had not heard of people like Frantz Fanon or Amilcar Cabral and it was my task to introduce them to works such as The Wretched of the Earth and Towards the African Revolution, Black Skins White MasksUnity & Struggle.  I do believe that radical scholarship can aid and inspire social, economic and political transformation in Africa in order to end poverty, servitude, economic backwardness and social mystification. Africa’s resources continue to be plundered by an unholy alliance of the domestic comprador classes and the lords of the capitalist world through what Sarah Bracking has called ‘the financialisation of late capitalism…and these iniquitous structures derivative of global neo-liberalism…’. For me, this represents the worst form of accumulation by dispossession, as a vast amount of potential investible capital leaves the continent for corporatized financial structures in offshore destinations. For Bracking ‘…it is the recent processes of financialisation coupled with the increase in inequality it has wrought that has created the space for elites to be unaccountable and to seek to hang on to power through a credible threat of violence.. .’

The organisation of the rural masses to which Cabral devoted his life, is crucial if economic and political freedom is to be won and consolidated. As an academic, I always welcomed what Walter Rodney called ‘grounding’ with my students: in which difficult issues are raised and debated.  In these debates and discussion, I act as facilitators as my students debate issues including social stratification, power, class, ethnicity and race, gender and sexuality, local and global poverty.

Indeed, as Cabral observed, ‘African revolution means transformation of our present life in the direction of progress. The prerequisite for this is the elimination of foreign economic domination, on which every other type of domination is dependent…’. For Cabral, the organisation of the rural masses is crucial in order to win and sustain freedom and should be the leitmotif of activism

Tunde Zack-Williams is Emeritus Professor of Sociology at the University of Central Lancashire. He was President of the UK African Studies Association from 2006 to 2008. His books include Tributors, Supporters and Merchant Capital: Mining & Underdevelopment in Sierra Leone (1995); The Quest for Sustainable Peace: The 2007 Sierra Leone Elections (2008); Africa Beyond the Post-Colonial: Politics & Socio-Cultural Identities (with Ola Uduku) (2004); Africa in Crisis: New Challenges & Possibilities (2002). He is an editor of the Review of African Political Economy and was a member of the Africa Panel of the British Academy (2008-2011).

The Other Revolutionaries

The Other Revolutionaries: the IWW and the fight against racism in the USA, South Africa, India, and New Zealand

By Lucien van der Walt and Peter Cole

A new collection, published by Pluto Press Wobblies of the World: A Global History of the IWW, helps recover the story of an important generation of revolutionaries who battled racial discrimination and repression. The role of communist parties and other Marxists in struggles against racial discrimination and oppression in the United States has been brought to life by classics like Robin D.G. Kelley’s Hammer and Hoe: Alabama Communists during the Great Depression. For South Africa, there also are key works like Allison Drew’s two-volume South Africa’s Radical Tradition, and Peter Alexander’s Workers, War and the Origins of Apartheid: Labour and Politics in South Africa, 1939-1948. The activities of nationalist groups, of course, has been extensively covered.

But the role of a third stream of radical resistance to racism—by anarchists and syndicalists—often has been ignored. More than a century after the founding of the Industrial Workers of the World (IWW, whose members are referred to as Wobblies) in Chicago in 1905, this is starting to change. Wobblies of the World brings together some of the best new scholarship on this remarkable, international movement.

As its name indicates, the IWW aimed to organise worldwide, and, within years of its founding, it had inspired organisations and activists globally. The IWW was international in scope and internationalist in politics, stressing the importance of international workers unity as embodied in its legendary, common sense slogan, ‘An Injury to One is an Injury to All.’ The IWW was a champion of what we now would call ‘globalisation from below.’ It fought for solidarity across borders, for equal rights and equal wages, and for unity across the lines of country, culture, race, gender, skill, and language. 

As a revolutionary union movement rooted in Left traditions like anarchism and syndicalism, the IWW rejected the idea that governments could emancipate ordinary working class and poor people—and the idea that workers needed to form a party to take state power. In place of parliaments and parties, it aimed at mass education, democratic organizing, and direct action, to create a participatory, democratic, socialism run from below. Revolution would involve the One Big Union seizing the means of production in a revolutionary, global general strike.

The IWW emerged at a time when many unions excluded foreign and unskilled workers, when many unions favoured job colour bars and segregation. However, the IWW in the United States never established a segregated branch. It actively recruited black, Asian, and Latino workers in the United States. It spoke out against racism and segregation and clashed with organisations like the Ku-Klux-Klan, which it, for example, drove out of Greenville, Maine, in 1924.  

In America’s Deep South, the IWW organised amongst black and white lumber workers, including in Louisiana, rejecting segregation. The IWW played an important role on the docks, notably in Philadelphia, and its union work amongst seafarers played a key role in the union’s global diffusion. Some of this story is told in Peter Cole’s Wobblies on the Waterfront: Interracial Unionism in Progressive-Era Philadelphia

As Kenyon Zimmer notes in his chapter in the book, the IWW had a large base amongst immigrants, including Japanese radicals such as Kotoku Shusui in San Francisco, and the majority of the many IWW publications in the United States was in languages other than English. The union opposed the campaigns for a ban on Asian immigration, recruited East and South Asian workers, and Indian revolutionary Har Dayal (1884-1939) served as secretary of the San Francisco IWW. Dayal is discussed in Tariq Khan’s chapter, which looks at IWW connections with South Asia – especially the influence of the IWW on the radical Indian anti-colonial Ghadr Party. Itself a global movement, Ghadr attempted an armed rebellion in India during the First World War, and the IWW and Ghadr were closely intertwined in a range of ways.

Dave Struthers’s chapter in Wobblies of the World focuses on the union’s activities in the southwestern United States. From Los Angeles and San Francisco, the multi-ethnic, multiracial IWW extended its influence into vast circuits of labour connecting Asia, Europe, the East Coast and Mexico. An IWW brigade from the United States fought in the anarchist-led 1911 Baja California rebellion, and the IWW had a substantial union base in Mexico from the 1910s, organising a general strike on the Tampico oil fields in 1921, as discussed in Kevan Antonio Aguilar’s chapter on Mexico’s most important port. There, as in Canada which is discussed in a chapter by Mark Leier, indigenous peoples belonged to the IWW.

In South Africa, where the IWW emerged around 1910, the union opposed racial segregation, craft unionism, and the racist South African Labour Party: the three main pillars of the dominant white labour movement of the time. Van der Walt’s entry in Wobblies of the World covers the first phase of IWW activity.

In this essay, and numerous other pieces, Van der Walt has also discussed the second phase of IWW influence from 1915 onwards, when the idea of a revolutionary One Big Union influenced the core organisations in the revolutionary left and the early black union movement of the time: the International Socialist League, the Industrial Socialist League, the Industrial Workers of Africa, the Indian Workers Industrial Union and sections of the early South African Native National Congress as well as the Industrial and Commercial Workers Union (ICU) in the 1920s.

The IWW’s role in opposing racism in Australia does not feature as prominently in Wobblies of the World although there are great chapters on Australian Wobblies by Verity Burgmann and Paula de Angelis. However, Mark Derby’s entry provides a striking look at the IWW and the Maori in New Zealand. Here, the IWW tended to work within existing unions, rather than form new IWW ones. Its Industrial Unionist published pieces in the Maori language, praised the communal features of earlier Maori society, and deplored colonial land dispossession. It sought to influence Maori workers, an important factor at the docks, farms and mines.

Given this history, it is not surprising that the IWW was admired by figures as diverse as W.E.B. Du Bois, Claude McKay, and Har Dayal, or that the IWW Preamble was adopted by the ICU in Southern Africa in 1925, under the leadership of Clements Kadalie.

Peter Cole is co-editor of Wobblies of the World: A Global History of the IWW (2017, Pluto), and professor of history at Western Illinois University, USA. Lucien van der Walt is based at Rhodes University, South Africa, and has written widely on anarchism and syndicalism in southern Africa. Cole and van der Walt developed some of the arguments presented here in more detail in 2011 in ‘Crossing the Color Lines, Crossing the Continents: Comparing the Racial Politics of the IWW in South Africa and the United States, 1905–1925,’ Safundi: The Journal of South African and American Studies.

Featured Photograph: IWW design dates from the 1910s.

What is Critical Agrarian Studies?

By A. Haroon Akram-Lodhi

When Marc Edelman and Wendy Wolford (2017) published Critical Agrarian Studies: An Introduction, it represented a significant intervention to seek to realign a number of heterodox strands of rural development theory and practice into a pluralist field of study, action and advocacy. It is, for example, notable that none of the references to their article actually contained the phrase ‘critical agrarian studies.’ A Google Ngram – which is an online search engine that records the frequencies of search terms – for critical agrarian studies for the period between 1900 and 2008 reveals precisely zero ngrams, which begs the question: what is critical agrarian studies? The phrase itself has its most direct origin in the creation, in 2009, of the Initiatives in Critical Agrarian Studies (ICAS) at the International Institute of Social Studies (ISS) in The Hague. The Initiative describes itself as:

a community of like-minded critical scholars, development practitioners and movement activists from different parts of the world who are working on agrarian issues. It responds to the need for an initiative that builds and focuses on linkages and advocates a mutually reinforcing co-production and mutually beneficial sharing of knowledge.

What is striking about this description is that it does not actually state what is meant by critical agrarian studies. In this light, Edelman and Wolford’s paper represents the first attempt to try and map out the meaning of the field and, as such, it ambitiously seeks to shape the future of scholarship, practice and activism in the broader field of rural international development studies. This note seeks to summarize and assess the main contribution of Edelman and Wolford, as a means of framing the proposed structure of The Edward Elgar Handbook of Critical Agrarian Studies.

Why “critical”?

Edelman and Wolford stress that ‘critical frameworks … call into question dominant paradigms.’ In rural international development studies, the dominant paradigm remains, in essence, modernization theory, which first emerged in the 1950s. As they might note, modernization theory is predicated on a dualism: that “traditional” small-scale subsistence-oriented agriculture must be transformed into “modern” capital-intensive market-oriented agriculture, and that this requires that the bulk of farmers eventually seek out off-farm livelihoods as waged workers or entrepreneurs in manufacturing and services. This approach to rural development remains hegemonic within the management of the World Bank; it is implicit within some strands of the United Nations such as divisions of the Food and Agriculture Organization; it lies behind the contemporary teaching of agricultural economics in most universities around the world; and in many corners of the developing world, it is the foundation upon which ministries of agriculture operate.

Critical agrarian studies does not accept this orthodox narrative, suggesting that the values that underpin it are predicated on the need to subsume everything to the market, most particularly land, labour and money (Polanyi 1957). These values are associated with modernity but are historically such recent social constructions that they are a dramatic break with the past, in that the forms of knowledge they promote are not open-ended but rather closed-off. While neoclassical economics is the obvious example of a closed body of knowledge, it is, within social theory, far from the only one. The rise of quantitative sociology and quantitative political science is predicated upon a social-scientific method that assumes rationality and methodological individualism and in so doing not only closes off the manifest complexity of social relationships but also forcibly homogenizes that which is heterogeneous. Therefore, closed bodies of knowledge make historically-constructed social structures appear to be the way societies must be ordered.

It is therefore necessary to return

to the use of concepts that describe the world as empirically given, to the assumptions and beliefs that underlie these concepts, and to the creation of theories that seek to explain the realities of the current order of things … (When) reality is the baseline for theory, and theory is tested against further empirical research … social analysis is scientific in the broadest sense of the term (Veltmeyer 2011: 1).

Thus, the identification and analysis of biases within dominant paradigms in social science is done in order to construct “alternative forms of knowing and of acting in the world” (Edelman and Wolford 2017: 4) that are a better reflection of the lived realities of people. In contemporary rural worlds, this is the purpose of critical agrarian studies.

From peasant studies to critical agrarian studies

The origin of critical agrarian studies lies in peasant studies, which as a distinct field of investigation emerged during the 1960s and early 1970s rooted in a triptych of complementary but distinct epistemological approaches: theories of agrarian change derived from the classical analysis of the so-called “agrarian question” (Akram-Lodhi and Kay 2010); quantitative analysis of large farm-level agricultural data sets that featured in the analysis of the Organization and Production School (Chayanov 1986), the Agrarian Marxists (Cox and Littlejohn 2015) and the Indian “mode of production” debate (Patnaik 1990); and the finely-grained, intimately detailed ethnographic analysis that featured in the work of a host of anthropologists who often took their initial impetus from the work of such luminaries as Eric Wolf, Maurice Godelier, Jack Goody and Sidney Mintz.

To put it simply, but not simplistically: in peasant studies agrarian political economy framed the central research questions, quantitative data provided the “what”, and ethnography provided the “why”. Cumulatively, powerful explanations of social change in rural societies around the world were established in the peasant studies literature.

In the past 25 years this triptych has, to a degree, unraveled. There can be little doubt that rural research framed by the central concerns of the agrarian question has declined as social science orthodoxies replace critical analysis, particularly in undergraduate university degrees. Moreover, the quantitative analysis of large data sets has now become the preserve of resolutely neoclassical economists, who have shaped statistical tools to reflect their concerns, in ways that can seriously compromise the reliability of the data that is collected and the resulting analysis that is produced. Finally, contemporary ethnographers are less interested in the rural, and those that face significant personal, professional and financial constraints if they want to engage in the serious long-term work of understanding the detailed nuances of a rural social formation and the processes of change within which it is enmeshed.

The recent emergence of critical agrarian studies as a field of study is a response to the unraveling of this triptych. Its key point of departure is to move beyond the individual and recognize the social dimensions of identity, in the form of class analysis, however classes are defined. Thus, how agrarian classes are historically and contemporarily formed, reproduced, transformed and cease to be is a central component of its analytical framework. Moreover, class analysis needs to be multidimensional, identifying and exploring the cultural, ecological, social, political and economic factors and forces that facilitate or impede class formation. This common point of departure is then, according to Edelman and Wolford (2017), reinforced by three shared assumptions. The first is that dualist categories of rural and urban, or town and country, which are so common with orthodox dominant paradigms are, in the 21st century, not appropriate. Rather, the rural and the urban are mutually constitutive of each other, and thus interdependent components of a whole social formation. The second is that an analysis of actually-existing rural societies cannot just focus on what was, within the agrarian question literature, an evaluation of the political economy of production, distribution, accumulation, consumption and the structural and institutional governance of these stocks and flows, but must also, critically, integrate within its arguments the cultural dynamics of these stocks and flows. This is because “relations and tensions within and between … groups” (Edelman and Wolford 2017: 8), including but not exclusively classes, will reflect and affect cultural dynamics.  Thirdly, and finally, assessing any historical or actually-existing agrarian society must reflect the “political culture” (Edelman and Wolford 2017: 8) of those societies. Edelman and Wolford highlight interactions between men and women over generations, as well as interactions between the rural and the urban.

In this light, critical agrarian studies remains firmly rooted in ‘agrarian questions’: whether, and if so, how, the transformation of rural society is taking place in ways that are socially, economically and ecologically detrimental to female and male small-scale farmers. As has been nicely stated by Henry Bernstein (2010), empirically evaluating actually-existing agrarian questions requires focusing upon four central questions of agrarian political economy: 1. who owns what? 2. who does what? 3. who gets what? 4. what do they do with it? These four questions align with changes in: agricultural production, most notably the distribution of assets, the capture of the benefits of technical change by social forces, and processes of commodification; the accumulation that emerges out of changing technical coefficients of production; and the political implications, across a myriad variety of forms, of changing patterns of production and growth. Cumulatively, these changes may or may not facilitate the rural transformation that is the object of knowledge and the purpose of action and advocacy.

However, critical agrarian studies has a much broader approach to agrarian questions, reflective of its more open and pluralist lines of enquiry. Its foundation, it appears to me, is to base its theory and its empirics, in some way, within varieties of structure versus agency. Structure, in this regard, refers to recurring arrangements that influence, and so limit, the opportunities and hence choices of individuals. Agency is the capacity of individuals to act autonomously in the choices that they make. So, the structure versus agency debate within development sociology concerns the extent to which behaviour reflects the continuum of possibilities from the dictates of social structure and the socialization of individuals to the complete autonomy of free individuals. In actually-existing structure and agency situations, power is asymmetrical and relational, and thus critical agrarian studies seeks to uncover the sources of social power. While assets and their distribution may be an important determinant of power, as in agrarian questions, critical agrarian studies stresses the intersectionality of structure and agency, and in so doing, does not exclusively focus upon assets and their distribution as the sole basis or expression of power.

Indeed, this helps explain why the phrase ‘critical agrarian studies’ has emerged. As Edelman and Wolford note, the ‘institutional forms’ that critical agrarian studies takes are epitomized by The Journal of Peasant Studies and the Journal of Agrarian Change. Both these journals were founded by Terence J. Byres, who then later co-edited both with Henry Bernstein. Under their editorships, both journals utilized explicitly Marxist theoretical frameworks to frame the empirical studies that they published. However, when the editorship of The Journal of Peasant Studies passed to Saturnino M. Borras, Jr., the journal adopted a more pluralist heterodox standpoint, continuing to publish papers within an explicitly Marxist framework but also publishing work rooted in critical non-Marxist social theory that nonetheless was rooted within a structure – agency framework. This greater diversity within the ranks of engaged scholar-activists serves to broaden the field of critical agrarian studies, make possible conversations rather than polemics, while at the same time, it must be said, making it more broadly acceptable within the United States, where international development studies more generally is both underdeveloped as a field of study while at the same time being dominated by liberal orthodoxies.

It is worth reflecting, finally, how critical agrarian studies differs from peasant studies and the investigation of agrarian questions, as typified by the content of The Journal of Peasant Studies between 1973 and the creation of the Journal of Agrarian Change in 2001. Here, it is possible to identify three specific analytical differences. First, the analysis of large data sets is fundamentally absent from much – but not all – of critical agrarian studies. This reflects, secondly, a reduced emphasis on economic analysis, as this terrain has, unfortunately, been ceded to orthodox neoclassical economics, and a far greater emphasis on the social, political and cultural insights that can be gathered from nuanced and granular ethnographic and sociological investigations. Thirdly, critical agrarian studies embeds its analysis within the context of more global processes: the food regime, which are the international relations of food production and consumption that can be directly linked to forms of accumulation on a global scale.

In providing this macro and global context, critical agrarian studies goes significantly beyond the terrain of peasant studies as it developed in the 1970s through the 1990s. It connects the local to the global, in terms of both structures and agency, and this, in an era of neoliberal globalization, allows it to ask a broader set of questions beyond those of the agrarian question, which focuses upon rural class formation, in order to point toward alternatives. Indeed, this may well be the reason critical agrarian studies should be considered to be a distinct field. It is clearly the case that the historical and contemporary transition from country to town have forcefully impacted upon the character of a number of crises evident around the world and which will continue to play out through the 21st century. Some of these crises are global in character: access to food, climate change and migration, to name three. However, these global crises take singular and specific forms and characteristics around the rural world, rendering global crises as local agrarian crises. Four aspects of local agrarian crises around the rural world can in particular be identified, for they are essentially global in nature:

the global crisis of the peasant economy, processes of de-agrarianization, and the rise of precarious and feminized waged labour in the countryside

land concentration, land grabbing and the rise of agro-industrial capital

the financialization of food and agriculture

the undermining of the biophysical foundations of agriculture

In terms of resolving these local agrarian crises and moving forward toward the creation of alternatives, there are five key domains in which scholar-activists engaged in critical agrarian studies need to build knowledge:

the extent, manifestations and impacts of rural poverty and inequality, about which remarkably little is known, particularly with regard to rural inequality

the mechanics of pro-poor gender-responsive redistributive agrarian reform

the regulation of politically-constructed asset, input, output and labour markets so that they do not favour the powerful but can work for the poor

further increasing agricultural productivity through agroecology

constructing a global and local food system based on food sovereignty

In this way, critical agrarian studies is in fact part of a movement for a new set of political, civil, economic and social arrangements predicated upon the rights of individuals as citizens and self-identifying collectivities of people to express their agency against the structures that constrain them.

References

Akram-Lodhi, A H (2010) ‘Land, labour and agrarian transition in Vietnam’, Journal of Agrarian Change 10 (4): 564 – 580.

Akram-Lodhi, A H and Kay, C (2010) ‘Surveying the agrarian question (part 1): unearthing foundations, exploring diversity’, The Journal of Peasant Studies 37 (1): 177 – 202.

Barker, C (2005) Cultural Studies: Theory and Practice. London: Sage.

Bernstein, H (2010) Class Dynamics of Agrarian Change. Halifax and Winnipeg: Fernwood Books.

Chayanov, A V (1986) The Theory of Peasant Economy (edited by D. Thorner, B. Kerblay and R.E.F. Smith). Manchester: Manchester University Press.

Cox. T and Littlejohn, G (eds.) (2015) Kritsman and the Agrarian Marxists. London: Routledge.

Edelman, M and Wolford, W (2017) ‘Critical Agrarian Studies in theory and practice’, Antipode doi: 10.1111/anti.12326.

Oya, C and Pontara, N (eds) (2015) Rural Wage Employment in Developing Countries: Theory, Evidence and Policy. London: Routledge

Patnaik, U (ed.) (1990) Agrarian Relations and Accumulation: The “Mode of Production” Debate in India. Mumbai: Sameeksha Trust.

van der Ploeg, J D (2013) Peasants and the Art of Farming: A Chayanovian Manifesto. Halifax and Winnipeg: Fernwood Books.

Polanyi, K (1957) The Great Transformation: The Political and Economic Origins of Our Time. Boston: Beacon Press.

Veltmeyer, H (2011) ‘Section 1: Introduction’ in Veltmeyer, H (ed.) The Critical Development Studies Handbook: Tools for Change. Halifax and Winnipeg: Fernwood Books.

Haroon Akram-Lodhi is Professor of International Development Studies and Chair of the Department of International Development Studies at Trent University, Peterborough, Canada.  

Featured Photograph:  A woman in famine hit Eastern Uganda sells vegetables (David Oduut, 30 January, 2017).

ROAPE Workshop: Dar es Salaam, Tanzania

Imperialism in Africa today: the place of class struggles and progressive politics

(co-hosted by ROAPE and the Nyerere Resource Centre)

Council Chamber, University of Dar es Salaam (16-17 April 2018)

Objective

The broad objective of the Workshop is to have two-days intensive reflections among radical political economy scholars and progressive activists to take stock of the actually existing conditions in Africa in the context of the current phase of neo-liberal imperialism and how progressive forces can effectively intervene/participate in and promote progressive politics during the current conjuncture.

Format

Around 65 participants will be invited, roughly about 30 from Tanzania, 10 from East Africa outside Tanzania (Kenya, Uganda, Rwanda, Burundi), 15 from Africa outside East Africa and 10 from outside the continent. There will be three panels, two on the first day, one on the second day followed by a Public Lecture and workshop dinner open to the public.

Panelists are not expected to prepare written papers; instead, they will speak from their own talking notes. Panel presentations will be followed by plenary discussions and the chair/moderator is expected to broadly guide the discussions by allowing participants to spend sufficient time to present their arguments in the style of dialogue/conversation.

Panels and Themes

Day 1

Session I

Summing up the Accra Workshop – Yao Graham

Session II

Panel 1: Imperialism and the state of class struggle in Africa

As the title suggests, the idea is for the panelists to trace in broad strokes the character of contemporary imperialism and its varied manifestations in the context of trajectories of accumulation. Panelists are urged to tease out the impact of imperialism on internal class struggles and the potential for building solidarity across the continent and the world.

Moderator:   Godwin Murunga

Panellists:     Lee Wengraf (lead panelist)

                        Faisal Garba Muhammed

                        Dzodzi Tsikata

                        Tafadzwa Choto

                        Ernest Wamba dia Wamba

Panel 2: Legacy of Russian Revolution and Arusha Declaration

To explore the social forces and alliances behind the Russian Revolution and the Arusha Declaration, ensuing struggles and weak links that account for their subsequent trajectory and ultimate defeat.

Moderator:   Ng’wanza Kamata

Panelists:      Samir Amin (lead panelist)

                        Lutz Brangsch

                        Noosim Naimasiah

                        Matt Swaggler

                        Issa Shivji

 

Day 2

The second day will have two sessions. Session 1 from 9.00 to 12.00 will be Panel 3. After tea break there will be session II from 1.00 to 3.00 which will be a summing up session. Issa Shivji and Peter Lawrence will co-chair the summing-up session and the lead speaker will be Yao Graham and Ray Bush.

At 5.00 pm there will be a public lecture open to the public followed by the launch of Lee Wengraf’s Extracting Profit and finally the workshop dinner.

Session 1

Panel 3: The State of Progressive Politics in Africa Today: Organization Forms and the Agents of Social Transformation

With a view of linking radical political economy analysis and activism to existing circumstances and conditions in Africa, participants will examine the nature and class character of the existing and emerging forms of organization, resistance and social movements. Participants will also explore alternative counter-hegemonic politics, which can influence efforts towards challenging neoliberal and elite monopolisation of political and economic power. Experiences from local and national activists and scholars, especially those at the forefront of organizing political and economic struggles in both rural and urban areas, will be shared. At the end of discussions, participants will consider whether the new progressive politics can emerge from existing sites of popular struggles and resistance in Africa and the role of Pan-Africanist ideas in the current struggles.

Moderator:    Mona Mwakalinga

Panellists:     Trevor Ngwane (lead panellist)

                        Amina Mama 

                        Sabatho Nyamsenda

                        Marjorie Mbilinyi

                        Gacheke Gachihi

Session II

Summing up the Dar es Salaam Workshop – Issa Shivji, Peter Lawrence, Yao Graham and Ray Bush

Public lecturePolitics of Economic Nationalism in Africa

Speaker: Adebayo Olukoshi

A significant number of African states are encountering a neo-liberal scramble for their resources particularly land, minerals, oil and gas.  Currently, there are vivid hotspots of popular resistance against the Western neo-liberal project for the re-colonization of Africa. Resistances are spearheaded by both rightist and leftist populisms and narrow nationalisms. It is in this context Olukoski will explore the intervention of progressive forces.

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Critical Agrarian Studies on roape.net

African Farmers, Agrarian Transformation and Critical Agrarian Studies

By Ray Bush

The new page on roape.net Critical Agrarian Studies engages with the most important issue of our time: namely, how can we deliver food availability and accessibility at an ecological and financial cost affordable for Africa’s poor and in a way that is sustainable for the planet. This raises challenging empirical and theoretical issues of power dynamics in the production, distribution and exchange of food and over what types of food will be prioritised in a democratically organised global food regime.  It raises issues in the framework of world food systems on how food is managed by transnational as well as national corporate and economic actors and processes, and how their power and legitimacy can be challenged by social movements and rural resistance to among other things, contract farming, agribusiness, water, land and other asset privatisation. The page will also raise crucial themes linked to the organisation of food production on a local scale in rural communities and in African households. We will host analysis of social relations of production and reproduction, gendered divisions of labour and the interaction between rural classes and urban built environments.

These exciting and transformative agrarian questions will be examined in the context of the broad perspective of critical agrarian studies. This analytical frame captures how agrarian life and livelihoods shape and are shaped by the politics, economics and social worlds of modernity. We will post updates and analysis of rural struggles that help explore and explain how peasants and rural classes are struggling to promote the radical transformation of Africa. We encourage empirical case study blog-debates informed by radical theoretical perspectives that analyse the political economy of agrarian social classes, the pressures that help shape their social reproduction and their interactions with other social classes and forces.

To read the blogposts please click here. We welcome submissions from anyone who wants to contribute to the debate, please email the page editor, Ray Bush: r.c.bush@leeds.ac.uk

Chinua Achebe, Five Years On

By Remi Adekoya

Pioneers have a special place in history, especially in the history of the peoples they emerged from. Chinua Achebe will always inhabit a special place in the hearts of Africans for his historical role in planting African literature on the world map. While there were other talented African writers and intellectuals producing great work by the mid-20th century, Achebe’s 1958 debut novel Things Fall Apart was the first to command global attention, selling millions of copies and henceforth rendering it impossible to ignore or underestimate African literature.

Things Fall Apart proved that an African writer could successfully seize possession of the right to define Africans who up till then were mostly defined by white people. It is impossible to over-emphasize the psychological impact this had on aspiring writers in a colonized continent struggling to find its voice and its confidence. Princeton scholar Kwame Anthony Appiah put it aptly when he wrote that asking how Things Fall Apart influenced African writing “would be like asking how Shakespeare influenced English writers or Pushkin influenced Russians.” While Achebe himself resisted the crown foisted on him as the ‘father of African literature’, this is most likely how popular history will remember the great Nigerian novelist, poet and scholar who passed away five years ago today.

Set in the 1890s, Things Fall Apart was Achebe’s response to over-simplistic and often condescending European narratives of Africans, chronicling a crisis of identity experienced by his main protagonist Okonkwo, through whose eyes readers could envision the confusing and often tragic encounters of pre-colonial African communities with European colonialism and its arrogant attitudes to the cultures it encountered on the continent.

Achebe’s masterful moulding of the English language to suit his purposes of conveying popular concepts and worldviews embedded in his native Igbo culture became an inspiring example to other non-Western novelists on how to explain the cultural universes they inhabited to a world dominated by Western thought-paradigms and modes of expression.

Highlighting the disruptive nature of colonialism for African communities, David Whittaker explains, “Achebe created a narrative that placed the African at the historic centre of the colonial encounter, with the imperialistic Europeans as the usurping outsiders, whose intervention brings about cataclysmic upheaval for the traditional African civilization being colonized.”

Things Fall Apart kicked off a literary career spanning over half-a-century that remained firmly rooted in the realities and people of Achebe’s native Nigeria, revealing their rationalizations, proverbial wisdoms and cultural sensibilities while simultaneously chronicling the socio-economic and political evolution of the country promised to become the ‘Giant of Africa.’ While Things Fall Apart dealt with the realities of an Igbo community in colonial-era Nigeria, much of Achebe’s work in subsequent novels such as A Man of the People (1966) and Anthills of the Savannah (1987) dealt with the realities of post-colonial Nigeria, depicting complex characters struggling to find their way in an increasingly corrupt, ruthless and unjust society that was clearly not turning out to be what the country’s independence leaders had promised.

While the conflict between traditional values and modernism remained a recurring theme in Achebe’s later works, it was his confrontations with the increasingly venal political and social realities of post-colonial Nigeria that arguably present his most interesting writings for observers of contemporary African politics and socio-economics. Indeed, what is less popularly known about Achebe is that he became so disgusted with post-colonial Nigerian politics he decided, for a brief spell, to try and change things from within, joining the leftist Peoples Redemption Party (PRP) in the early 1980s, and becoming its deputy vice president in 1983.

While Achebe’s writings always acknowledged the material and structural impact of colonialism with the exploitative systems it left behind, his later books increasingly focussed, in characteristically frank unflinching manner, on the role of Nigerian agency in the failures of post-colonial Nigeria. In 1983, Achebe penned his most explicitly political book The Trouble with Nigeria in which he asserted categorically that “the trouble with Nigeria is simply and squarely a failure of leadership.” Fuming at the growing poverty and inequality in his country, Achebe offered a scathing review of Nigeria’s corrupt ruling elites and their remarkably deluded rhetoric:

One of the commonest manifestations of under-development is a tendency among the ruling elite to live in a world of make-believe and unrealistic expectations…Listen to Nigerian leaders and you will frequently hear the phrase this great country of ours. Nigeria is not a great country. It is one of the most disorderly nations in the world. It is one of the most corrupt, insensitive, inefficient places under the sun. It is one of the most expensive countries and one of those that give least value for money. It is dirty, callous, noisy, ostentatious, dishonest and vulgar. In short, it is among the most unpleasant places on earth!

It would have been difficult for Achebe to offer a more damning indictment of his beloved country 23 years into independence, attributing the megalomaniacal and fantastical assertions of its ruling elites to “a flamboyant imaginary self-concept.” Before going further, it is worth noting Nigeria was in much better socioeconomic shape when Achebe dished out this harsh criticism than it is today.

According to the country’s national bureau of statistics, in 1985, two years after Achebe offered his critical assessment, 46.3% of Nigerians lived in poverty. By 2010, that number had risen to 69%. Moreover, due to the country’s demographic boom, the statistics present even worse in absolute terms as the number of poor Nigerians grew from 34 million to 112 million during the same period. Meanwhile, a 2017 global index compiled by Oxfam and Development Finance International placed Nigeria last in a list of 152 countries ranked by their “commitment to reducing inequality” with “shamefully low” social spending on health, education and social protection, taking into consideration available resources.

Yet the self-satisfied delusions of grandeur and disconnect from reality which Achebe identified among Nigeria’s ruling elites in the 1980s remain alive and well today despite these decades of socioeconomic regression and appalling governance. Last month, in response to queries on why Nigeria, a country of almost 200 million people, produces only a tenth of the electricity South Africa produces (pop. 56 million) and thus undergoes constant power-outages, Minister for Power Babatunde Fashola argued that Nigeria produces more electricity than Rwanda (pop. 11 million) and Togo (pop. 7 million) so “stop putting yourself down, we are a great country.”

That a minister in a country where roughly 70% of the population lives in poverty has the gall to describe it as ‘great’ makes it difficult to comment without the use of expletives. But, of course, the minister has probably not slept in a house without a 24-hour stand-by generator for decades so he can’t really understand why anyone considers constant power outages such a big deal. His words simply reflect the complete disconnect between Nigeria’s ruling elites and the overwhelming majority of Nigerians who have to deal with the results of their failed governance.

It also reflects what Achebe aptly observed in The Trouble with Nigeria as the ‘spurious patriotism’ that is ‘one of the hallmarks of Nigeria’s privileged classes’ who are ‘incredibly blind.’ This has clearly not changed today. Describing the political class he observed from up close in the 1980s, Achebe asserted:

There are simply too many political actors on our stage whose prime purpose in grabbing power seems to be no higher than a desire to free themselves from every form of civilized restraint in their public and private lives.

He would repeat this argument in his last book There Was a Country published almost three decades later in 2012, the year before he died. While There Was a Country is primarily a personal memoir of the events surrounding Nigeria’s civil war and the Igbo-dominated break-away Republic of Biafra which Achebe supported, it was also an assessment of fifty-two years of Nigeria’s independence.

Achebe described the situation as much worse than in the 1980s when he had thought things were bad. Regarding corruption in 2012 Nigeria, he stated:

Twenty-eight years after that slim book [The Trouble with Nigeria] was published, I can state categorically that the problem of corruption and indiscipline is probably worse today than it’s ever been because of the massive way in which the Nigerian leadership is using the nation’s wealth to corrupt, really to destroy, the country, so no improvement or change can happen.

He cited the mind-boggling figure of $400 billion of oil revenue, which is estimated to have been stolen by Nigerian leaders since independence. While Achebe tried to portray Nigeria as salvageable, arguing “this is not a time to bemoan all the challenges ahead. It is a time to work at developing, nurturing, sustaining and protecting democracy and democratic institutions”, he also acknowledged the farcical nature of Nigerian democracy:

The question of choice in selecting a leader in Nigeria is often an academic exercise due to the election rigging, violence and intimidation of the general public, particularly by those in power, but also by those with the means, the rich and influential.

Addressing the issue of why Nigeria’s political elites have been getting away with robbing the country blind since independence without any serious resistance from the tens of millions of Nigerians condemned to extreme poverty as a result, he stated:

I am asked “Why don’t the people fight back?” Well, once a people have been disposed and subjugated by dictatorships for such a long time as in Nigeria’s case, the oppressive process also effectively strips away from the minds of the people the knowledge that they have rights.

Indeed, while on paper all Nigerians have rights, over the years most Nigerians have adapted to a reality in which state power is often brazenly and brutally deployed to subjugate the poorest and weakest citizens in the interests of the rich and powerful political class who constantly demonstrate they are above the law. Since they have been getting away with this for over half-a-century, the average Nigerian has come to accept that might is right and it is safer to bow before the powerful than provoke them into trampling all over you.

Ethnic antipathies and mistrust have rendered large-scale class-based organizations virtually impossible as such movements are easily divided by savvy ethnic entrepreneurs. In There Was a Country, Achebe despaired that his ethnic group the Igbos were so disliked in the country, “Nigerians will probably achieve consensus on no other matter than their common resentment of the Igbo.” While he may have overstated the case, anyone trying to assert ethnic antipathies have been overcome in Nigeria is engaging in the same kind of wishful thinking as the political leaders who claim Nigeria is a “great country.”

There is a strong human desire for happy endings to stories. We all like ultimately positive messages to help us feel optimistic about the future. But if truth be told in the frank manner Nigeria’s great literary icon favoured throughout his life, there was no happy ending to the story of Chinua Achebe. Perhaps to that of Chinua Achebe the immensely successful writer, but certainly not to that of Chinua Achebe, the Nigerian patriot and socialist. Here was a man whose first novel Things Fall Apart criticized European colonialism and its disruptive effects, only for his final book There Was a Country to recall British rule in Nigeria with a remarkable degree of nostalgia.

Here is a piece of heresy: The British governed their colony of Nigeria with considerable care. There was a very highly competent cadre of government officials imbued with a high level of knowledge of how to run a country…I am not justifying colonialism. But it is important to face the fact that British colonies, more or less, were expertly run.  

It is highly improbable Achebe would have felt the need to recall Nigeria as “expertly run” by the British if he had not been so terribly underwhelmed with how it was being run by his fellow Nigerians, a disappointment palpable throughout There Was a Country.

In the end, partially paralysed after a car accident on one of Nigeria’s terrible roads, Achebe spent the last two decades of his life an émigré in far-away America, choosing not to live in his home country which had become “one of the most unpleasant places on earth.” So, while we celebrate Achebe’s incredible accomplishments for African literature, let us not forget how much post-colonial Nigeria failed him and continues to fail the overwhelming majority of its citizens today. We owe the great man that bit of honesty.

Remi Adekoya is the former political editor of the Warsaw Business Journal. He has provided socio­-political commentary and analysis for BBC, Foreign Affairs, Foreign Policy, Stratfor, Geopolitical Intelligence Services and Radio France International among others. Remi is currently conducting PhD research in politics at the University of Sheffield and is a member of ROAPE’s editorial working group. His twitter handle is @RemiAdekoya1

Featured Photograph: Chinua Achebe on a bench in Umeå, Sweden, on 19 October 1988 (Roland Berggren, Västerbotten-Kuriren).

 

 

 

 

 

Imperialist Realities vs. the Myths of David Harvey

By John Smith

When David Harvey says “the historical draining of wealth from East to West for more than two centuries has largely been reversed over the last thirty years,” his readers will reasonably assume that he refers to a defining feature of imperialism, namely the plunder of living labour and natural wealth in colonies and semi-colonies by rising capitalist powers in Europe and North America. Indeed, he leaves no doubt about this, since he prefaced these words with reference to “the old categories of imperialism.” But here we encounter the first of his many obfuscations. For more than two centuries, imperialist Europe and North America have also been draining wealth from Latin America and Africa, as well as from all parts of Asia… except from Japan, which itself emerged as an imperial power during the 19th century. ‘East-West’ is therefore an imperfect substitute for ‘North-South’, and this is why I dared to adjust the points of Harvey’s compass, drawing a petulant response.

As David Harvey knows full well, all sides in the debate on imperialism, modernisation and capitalist development acknowledge a primary distinction between what are variously termed ‘developed and developing’, ‘imperialist and oppressed’, ‘core and periphery’ etc. countries, even if there is no agreement about how this primary division is evolving. Furthermore, the criteria for determining membership of these groups of nations can validly include politics, economics, history, culture and much else, but NOT geographical location—‘North-South’ is nothing more than descriptive shorthand for other criteria, as is indicated by the fact that ‘North’ is generally acknowledged to include Australia and New Zealand. Yet, in his reply to my critique, Harvey elevates geography above all else, lumping China, whose per capita GDP in 2017 was situated between Thailand and the Dominican Republic, along with South Korea, Taiwan and imperialist Japan into a distinct East Asian “power block [sic] in the global economy.” Given the moribund state of the Japanese economy, whose GDP has grown by an average of less than 1% per annum since 1990, and cognizant of Japan’s explosive economic, political and military rivalry with China, to ask whether this ‘bloc’ is now draining wealth from capitalist Europe and North America is to ask the wrong question.

To judge Harvey’s claim that flows of wealth associated with imperialism have gone into reverse we should ask a more pertinent question: are the developed capitalist nations of Europe, North America and Japan continuing to drain wealth from China and other ‘emerging nations’ in Asia, Africa and Latin America? Unless Harvey believes that flows of wealth from Africa and Latin America to the ‘West’ are large enough to cancel the alleged flow from the West to the ‘East Asian bloc’, his answer must be no, this is no longer the case

Some realities on the ground

In 2015, researchers based in Brazil, India, Nigeria, Norway and the USA published Financial flows and tax havens: combining to limit the lives of billions of people, which they fairly claim to be “the most comprehensive analysis of global financial flows impacting developing countries compiled to date.” Their report calculates ‘net resource transfers’ (NRT) between developed and developing countries, combining licit and illicit inflows and outflows—from development aid and remittances of wages to net trade receipts, debt servicing, new loans, FDI and portfolio investment and repatriated profits, along with capital flight and other forms of financial chicanery and outright theft. They found that in 2012, the most recent year for which they could obtain data, what they call ‘developing and emerging countries’ (which of course includes China) lost $2.0 trillion in net transfers to rich countries, equivalent to 8% of emerging nations’ GDP in that year—four times larger than the average of $504 billion in NRT transferred annually from poor to rich countries during the first half of the 2000s. When informed estimates are included of under-invoicing and other forms of rip-off and criminality that leave no statistical trace, NRT from poor countries to imperialist countries in 2012 exceeded $3 trillion, around 12% of poor nations’ GDP.

More generally, they report that “both recorded and unrecorded transfers of licit and illicit funds from developing countries have tended to increase over the period 1980-2011”. As for Sub-Saharan Africa, they report that NRT from this continent to imperialist countries (or tax havens licensed by them) between 1980 to 2012 totalled $792bn, that illicit transfers from Africa to imperialist countries as a proportion of GDP are higher than from any other region, and that capital flight from Sub-Saharan Africa is growing by more than 20 percent per annum, faster than anywhere else in the world.

In what they called “an ironic twist to the development narrative” the researchers concluded that “since the early 1980s, NRT for all developing countries have been mostly large and negative, indicating sustained and significant outflows from the developing world… resulting in a chronic net drain of resources from the developing world over extended periods of time”.

Where does China fit into this broader picture? Using sophisticated methodologies and on the basis of conservative assumptions, the researchers calculate that China accounts for no less than two thirds of the total recorded resource transfer deficit of all ‘emerging nations’ between 1980 and 2012, $1.9 trillion in all; the explanation for this high proportion being “China’s large current account surpluses and associated capital and reserve asset outflows,” and it accounted for 21%, or $2.8 trillion, of the total of $13.4 trillion in capital flight drained from all ‘emerging countries’ to rich nations during these three decades.

More realities on the ground

These facts are already enough to refute Harvey’s claim that China and its neighbours are now draining wealth from ‘former’ imperialist nations in Europe and North America. David Harvey should provide some data to back up his assertions—or withdraw them. But the case against his denial of imperialism goes far beyond what’s revealed by statistics on trade, debt servicing, profit repatriation and capital flight.

In the first place, the ‘net resource transfer’ methodology implemented in the research cited above means that South-North flows of repatriated profits are cancelled by new North-South flows of FDI. Yet these flows are different in kind. Repatriated profits unambiguously increase the wealth of transnational corporations (TNCs); FDI unambiguously increases the portion of the host economy they own and control. These flows may be in opposite directions, but each of them reinforces imperialist domination over the host economies, a fact which is ignored when they are simplistically cancelled out; and similar considerations apply to other flows, e.g. debt servicing vs. new loans.

Much more importantly, Marx’s theory of value teaches us that data on trade and financial flows provide only a highly distorted and much-diminished picture of the underlying flows of value and surplus value. For example, the only flows of wealth from China and other low-wage countries to non-financial TNCs headquartered in Japan, Europe and North America that show up in statistical data are repatriated profits from direct investments. In contrast, not a single cent of H&M’s, Apple’s or General Motors’ profits can be traced back to the super-exploited Bangladeshi, Chinese and Mexican workers who toil for these TNCs’ independent suppliers, and it is this ‘arm’s length’ relationship which increasingly prevails in the global value chains that connect TNCs and citizens in imperialist countries to the low-wage workers who produce more and more of their intermediate inputs and consumption goods.

The central conclusion I draw from this, as I stated in the blogpost David Harvey denies imperialism, is that:

The vast scale of production outsourcing to low-wage countries, whether via foreign direct investment or via indirect, arm’s length relationships, signifies greatly expanded exploitation of southern labor by U.S., European, and Japanese TNCs, legions of workers who are moreover subject to a higher rate of exploitation… [and this] implies new and greatly increased flows of value and surplus value to U.S., European, and Japanese TNCs… and reason to believe that this transformation marks a new stage in the development of imperialism.

David Harvey, in his response to my critique, treats this defining feature of the neoliberal era rather differently:

From the 1970s onwards some (but by no means all) capital went to where the labour forces were cheapest. But globalization could not work without reducing barriers to commodity exchange and money flows and the latter meant opening a Pandora’s box for finance capital that had long been frustrated by national regulation. The long-term effect was to reduce the power and privilege of working class movements in the global north precisely by putting them into competitive range of a global labour force that could be had at almost any price. 

Here, Harvey completely ignores the increased dependence of US, European and Japanese TNCs on surplus value from low-wage countries, and he attempts to shift attention to the important but secondary phenomenon of financialization. The only effect of the global shift of production to low-wage countries that he thinks worth mentioning is its stifling effect on “working class movements in the global North.” And this effect is greatly exaggerated—the reduction of the latter’s power and privilege, Harvey would have us believe, has been on such a scale that they now compete with their sisters and brothers in the global South on more-or-less equal terms.

In my original critique I quoted his 17 Contradictions and the End of Capitalism (p. 170), where he said: “disparities in the global distribution of wealth and income between countries have been much reduced with rising per capita incomes in many developing parts of the world;” and I countered that this “greatly exaggerates global convergence: once China is removed from the picture, and once account is made of greatly increased income inequality in many southern nations, no real progress has been made in overcoming the huge gap in real wages and living standards between the “West” and the rest.” Harvey’s response: “I stand by the claim that the working classes within the global structure of contemporary capitalism are far more competitive with each other now than they were in the 1960s.”

It is true that ultra-low wages in southern nations are being used as a club against workers in imperialist nations, but it is preposterous to suggest that the North-South gulf in wages and living standards has been substantially eroded. David Harvey should provide some data to back up his claims—or withdraw them. He could consult ‘Global wage trends in the neoliberal era’, chapter 5 of my Imperialism in the Twenty-first Century, along with its discussion of the growth of the ‘planet of slums’ (so much for Harvey’s claim that I “ignore urbanisation”!) and other evidence supporting a rather different conclusion to the mainstream convergence hypothesis endorsed by Harvey of (p. 104):

the imperialist division of the world… has shaped the global working class, central to which is the violent suppression of international labor mobility. Just as the infamous pass-laws epitomized apartheid in South Africa, so do immigration controls form the lynchpin of an apartheid-like global economic system that systematically denies citizenship and basic human rights to the workers of the South and which, as in apartheid-era South Africa, is a necessary condition for their super-exploitation.

Why does Harvey refuse to acknowledge the enormously-expanded exploitation of Southern labour by Northern capital? Why does he deny the prevalence of super-exploitation in the low-wage rungs of global value 221? Why does he claim that the split in the international working class that so preoccupied Lenin and the communist movement when it was communist is now history? It’s simple—realism on any of these points would result in the collapse of his argument.

Harvey’s idealism

“Marx taught us that the historical materialist method does not start with concepts and then imposes them on reality, but with the realities on the ground in order to discover the abstract concepts adequate to their situation. To start with concepts, as does John Smith, is to engage in rank idealism.” Harvey offers sound advice—but he should practice what he preaches. His criticism of my analytical method as ‘rank idealism’ applies without exaggeration to his own approach, as we shall see.

It is indeed of the utmost importance to start with facts, as I stressed in my article Imperialism in the Twenty-first Century:

“Communism is not a doctrine but a movement; it proceeds not from principles but from facts,” said Frederick Engels. Wide international differences in the rate of exploitation, the huge global shift of production to where this rate is highest, and the tremendous southwards shift in the centre of gravity of the industrial working class are the new, big facts from which we must proceed. These are the defining transformations of the neoliberal era, and they are key to understanding the nature and dynamics of the global crisis… Instead of using Marx’s comments on nineteenth-century production to deny the reality of twenty-first-century super-exploitation (and of the imperialist order resting on it), we must test Marx’s theory against these new facts, and use and critically develop his theory in order to understand this latest stage of capitalism’s imperialist development.

Harvey accuses me of espousing a “fixed, rigid theory of imperialism.” He obviously hasn’t read my book. Fair enough; I’m sure he is very busy. But were he to do so, he would see that, by proceeding from the most significant, transformative fact about the neoliberal era, namely the shift of production to low-wage countries driven by imperialist hunger for super-exploitable labour, I am led not only to argue the need for a radical extension of Lenin’s theory:

… Just as Karl Marx could not have written Capital before capitalism’s mature, fully evolved form had come into existence with the rise of industrial capitalism in England, so it is unreasonable to expect to find, in the writings of Lenin and others writing at the time of its birth, a theory of imperialism that is able to explain its fully evolved modern form (Imperialism in the Twenty-first Century, the book, p. 225)…

… but also to contend that the necessary starting point for a theory of contemporary imperialism is precisely what Marx excluded from consideration in Capital; e.g. in the MR article cited above I argue:

In the third volume of Capital, while discussing “counteracting factors” inhibiting the tendency of the rate of profit to fall, Marx makes another brief reference to… the “Reduction of Wages Below their Value,” [which] is dealt with in just two short sentences: “like many other things that might be brought in, it has nothing to do with the general analysis of capital, but has its place in an account of competition, which is not dealt with in this work. It is nonetheless one of the most important factors in stemming the tendency for the rate of profit to fall.”

Not only did Marx leave to one side the reduction of wages below their value, he made a further abstraction that, while necessary for his “general analysis of capital,” must also be relaxed if we are to analyze capitalism’s current stage of development: “The distinction between rates of surplus value in different countries and hence between different national levels of exploitation of labour are completely outside the scope of our present investigation.” Yet it is precisely this that must form the starting-point for a theory of contemporary imperialism.

Harvey reprimands me for claiming that his Limits to Capital contains “just one brief, desultory mention of imperialism.” I apologise for this imprecision. His book does contain many fleeting, historical references to imperialism, and two somewhat more substantial discussions, one discussing Lenin’s theory, the other forms part of the book’s conclusion. The truth that I intended to convey is that only once (pp. 441-2) does Harvey mention that the essence of imperialism is “the reality of exploitation of the peoples in one region by those in another… the geographical production of surplus-value [can] diverge from its geographical distribution.” I overlooked another brief mention: “each nation-state strives to protect its monetary base [by] enhancing value and surplus value production within its borders or appropriating values produced elsewhere (colonial or imperialist adventures)” (p. 387). And that’s it! On all other occasions—even when reporting Lenin’s theory!—‘imperialism’ is discussed in relation to inter-state rivalry, to finance capital and to the rise of monopoly, but exploitation of subject peoples is entirely expunged, both from Harvey’s own concept and his presentation of the views of others.

In his reply to my critique, Harvey makes a similarly vague acknowledgement of this all-important phenomenon, asserting that he doesn’t “deny that value produced in one place ends up being appropriated somewhere else and there is a degree of viciousness in all of this that is appalling.” Okay, he doesn’t deny this, but he doesn’t dwell on it, either. He just wants to say as little as possible about it, and at all costs to avoid acknowledging that value produced in places like China, Bangladesh and Mexico ends up being appropriated in countries like USA, UK and Japan.

What little he does say, however, is very revealing—not about the world, but about the quality (in all the meanings of the word) of his argument. In his reply to my criticism, for example, he says, “When we read accounts of awful super-exploitative conditions in manufacturing in the global South it often transpires that it is Taiwanese or South Korean firms that are involved even as the final product finds its way to Europe or the United States.”  The substantive issue in this was addressed by Judy Whitehead in the comment she posted on Harvey’s reply: “While it’s true that many local companies, e.g. Foxconn, run the factories that produce goods for the West, in China and a few other locations, Smith shows in his book that a large majority of the profits accrue to the multinationals they are contracting for, e.g. Apple.”

Two other things can be said about Harvey’s statement. First, on those rare occasions when Harvey mentions super-exploitation, he only ever uses it as a descriptive term, never as an analytical category. Second, whenever he does acknowledge its actuality—as in the above passage—he goes to great pains to deflect attention from its beneficial effect on the profits of TNCs headquartered in North America, Europe and Japan.

I conclude this discussion of Harvey’s treatment of inconvenient facts by examining another of his revealing statements. In his reply to my criticism, he stated that, “As Marx long ago pointed out, geographical transfers of wealth from one part of the world to another do not benefit a whole country; they are invariably concentrated in the hands of privileged classes.”

Invariably?? Can’t Harvey think of any instances where the imperialists have used part of the proceeds of super-exploitation to bribe and corrupt their own workers? Was Frederick Engels deluded when, in an 1882 letter to Kautsky (when the latter was still a Marxist), he said, “You ask me what the English workers think about colonial policy. Well, exactly the same as they think about politics in general: the same as the bourgeoisie think. There is no workers party here… and the workers are cheerfully consuming their share of England’s monopoly of the world market and the colonies”?

When Ernest Bevin, Labour’s Foreign Secretary in the Britain’s post World War 2 government, declared to the House of Commons in 1946 that “I am not prepared to sacrifice the British Empire because I know that if the British Empire fell…it would mean the standard of living of our constituents would fall considerably,” was he making it up?

And when in 2018 the British state collects, in VAT and other taxes, up to half the final sale price of a shirt made in Bangladesh (while the woman who made the shirt is paid a tiny fraction of this amount) and uses these tax receipts to finance the National Health Service and workers’ pensions (neither of which are  available to our Bangladeshi sisters, nor to the 260 million migrant workers from China’s countryside who toil in that country’s export-oriented factories), is it acceptable for Marxists to ignore such inconvenient ‘realities on the ground’?

In Imperialism and the Split in Socialism Lenin said (and he repeated the same idea in countless other articles and speeches), “The capitalists can devote a part (and not a small one, at that!) of the super-profits [arising from “England’s colonial monopoly,” Lenin’s emphasis, here and throughout] to bribe their own workers, to create something like an alliance . . . between the workers of the given nation and their capitalists against the other countries;” and he continued, “This, in fact, is the economic and political essence of imperialism, the profound contradictions of which Kautsky glosses over instead of exposing.” Substitute Harvey for Kautsky, and these words are as true today as when they were spoken a century ago. And when David Harvey responds to this criticism, as I sincerely hope he will, perhaps he can explain why he omitted any mention of this “economic and political essence of imperialism” in his discussion of Lenin’s views in Limits to Capital, in The New Imperialism, or anywhere else.

Harvey’s use of Capital to deny contemporary imperialism

So far, we have examined how Harvey deals with facts that contradict his denial of imperialism. Now we will look at how he uses and abuses theoretical concepts drawn from Marx to the same end.

Harvey says he “acknowledges the significance of Marx’s theory of relative surplus value which makes it possible for the physical standard of living of labour to rise significantly even as the rate of exploitation increases to dramatic levels impossible to achieve through the absolute surplus value gained in the more impoverished arenas of capital accumulation that often dominate in the global South.” 

Here Harvey echoes the standard argument used by many Marxists in imperialist countries (whom I sometimes refer to as ‘euro-Marxists’) to deny the prevalence of higher rates of exploitation in China, Bangladesh etc. In doing so, he provides an excellent example of ‘imposing concepts upon reality’. To use Marx’s theory of absolute surplus value to explain the abysmally low levels of consumption endured by garment workers in Bangladesh and workers on automobile assembly lines in Mexico is glib and false. That so many others do so is no excuse; to the contrary, it increases the onus on Harvey to apply his deep knowledge of Marxism to critically develop this theory in order to answer real-world questions that have remained unanswered for far too long.

As with all commodities, the value of labour power is determined by the quantity of labour required for its production, and is synonymous with ‘necessary labour time’, i.e. the time during which the s/he replaces the values consumed by her/his family. Marx’s concept of absolute surplus value refers to the extension of the working day beyond necessary labour time; the amount by which it does so he called surplus labour time, and the ratio between the two is the rate of surplus value, a.k.a. the rate of exploitation (the difference between these two terms becomes important when we take account of the distinction between production and non-production labour, but it is not relevant here). Absolute surplus value, Marx argued, may be increased by further extending the working day beyond necessary labour time. This is entirely distinct from the reduction of necessary labour time through the suppression of workers’ consumption levels. As Marx explained in many places in Vols. I and III of Capital, “pushing the wage of the worker down below the value of his labour-power” is “excluded from consider[ation] by our assumption that all commodities, including labour-power, are bought and sold at their full value.”

On the other hand, Marx’s concept of relative surplus value explains that improvements in the productivity of workers directly or indirectly employed in the production of consumption goods reduces necessary labour time without any corresponding reduction in workers’ consumption levels, and that such productivity advances can allow workers’ consumption levels to rise without increasing necessary labour time and reducing the rate of surplus value.

Neither of these concepts, taken separately or used in combination, are sufficient to explain the value relations in contemporary globalised production networks. First, Harvey’s argument is contradicted by facts—the shift in the production of so many consumer goods to low-wage countries means that the wages and productivity of workers in low-wage countries have become major determinants of relative surplus value in imperialist countries. What’s new about ‘new imperialism’ is the vast scale of this phenomena; the exceptional importance of Ruy Mauro Marini’s contribution to the dependency and imperialism debate that raged in the decades before 1980 lies, in part, in his argument that, during Karl Marx’s own lifetime super-exploitation in Britain’s colonies and neo-colonies increased relative surplus value within Britain itself (cheaper food etc. imports reduced necessary labour time without reducing consumption levels). In his Dialéctica de la Dependencia (1973), Marini argued (my translation):

The concept of super-exploitation is not identical to that of absolute surplus-value since it also includes a type of production of relative surplus-value—that which corresponds to an increase in the intensity of labour. On the other hand, the conversion of part of the wages fund into a source of capital accumulation does not strictly represent a form of absolute surplus-value production, since it simultaneously affects both parts of the working day, not only of surplus labour-time as is the case with absolute surplus-value. Above all, super-exploitation is defined most of all by greater exploitation of the worker’s physical capacity, in contrast to the exploitation resulting from an increase in her/his productivity, and tends normally to express itself in the fact that labour power is remunerated below its actual value.

Second, and even more seriously, Harvey’s abuse of the concept of absolute surplus value makes the elementary mistake of confusing the productivity of workers producing consumption goods with the productivity of workers who consume these goods. As I explain in Imperialism in the Twenty-first Century (the book, pp. 242-3),

Not only is the relation between the productivity of labor and the exchange-value created by it not direct, as asserted by mainstream economic theory and echoed by euro-Marxists, they are wholly independent of each other, as Marx emphasized (vol. I, p.137):

By productivity, of course, we always mean the productivity of concrete useful labor… Useful labor becomes… a more or less abundant source of products in direct proportion as its productivity rises or falls. As against this, however, variations in productivity have no impact whatever on the labor itself represented in value. As productivity is an attribute of labor in its concrete useful form, it naturally ceases to have any bearing on that labor as soon as we abstract from its concrete useful form. The same labor, therefore, performed for the same length of time, always yields the same amount of value, independently of any variations in productivity. But it provides different quantities of use-values during equal periods of time. 

Belief in a direct relation between wages and productivity is therefore founded on a confusion of use-value with exchange-value, a confusion that wrecks the very foundation of Marx’s theory and in fact responds to the semblance of the relations of production in the mind of the capitalist. In other words, the orthodox Marxists are in fact promoting bourgeois economics dressed in Marxist terminology.

If Marx’s concepts of absolute and relative surplus value are insufficient to explain the realities of contemporary global production networks, what else do we need? The short answer: a theoretical concept of super-exploitation. As stated above, Marx repeatedly, explicitly excluded both international variations in the rate of surplus value and the suppression of wages below the value of labour power from his ‘general theory’ of capital. Reduction in the value of labour power by suppressing consumption levels (or what amounts to the same thing, reduction of wages below the value of labour power) is a distinct, third way to increase surplus value, and it has attained incredible importance during the neoliberal era, being the fundamental driving force behind global labour arbitrage and the massive shift of production to low-wage countries.

The rediscovery of this third form of surplus-value is the breakthrough that provides the key to unleashing the dynamic concepts contained in Capital, and it was made by Andy Higginbottom in a 2009 conference paper entitled The Third Form of Surplus Value Increase, building on the above-mentioned work of Ruy Mauro Marini and since developed further in a series of ground-breaking papers and articles (see here, here and here). In his 2009 paper he said, “Marx discusses three distinct ways that capital can increase surplus-value, but he names only two of these as absolute surplus-value and relative surplus-value. The third mechanism, reducing wages below the value of labour-power, Marx consigns to the sphere of the competition and outside his analysis.”

As I said in my book (p. 238),

“Wage arbitrage-driven globalization of production corresponds neither to absolute surplus-value—long hours are endemic in low-wage countries, but the length of the working day is not the outsourcing firm’s main attraction—nor to relative surplus-value: necessary labor is not reduced through the application of new technology. Indeed, outsourcing is an alternative to investment in new technology. Raising surplus-value through expanding the exploitation of Southern low-wage labor therefore cannot be reduced to the two forms of surplus-value extraction analyzed in Capital—absolute and relative surplus-value. Global labor arbitrage-driven outsourcing is driven by lust for cheaper labor, and corresponds most directly to the “reduction of wages below their value.” In other words, global labor arbitrage, the driver of the global shift of production to low-wage nations, is the third form of surplus value recognized by Marx as a most important factor, yet excluded, as we have seen, from his theory of value.

The China question

Harvey asks “Is China the new imperialist power?” This is a fair and very large question to which I cannot possibly do justice in the context of this reply. China is much more than merely a very large, fast-growing ‘emerging nation’. It is a country which was transformed by a massive socialist revolution (more precisely, the 1949 revolution established necessary conditions for advance towards socialism—imperialist domination was ended, landlords and capitalists were expropriated, their state was overthrown—but further progress was stymied by the sectarian and reactionary policies of its Stalinist leaders) and which is now attempting a transition back to capitalism.  Despite widespread views to the contrary, this transition is far from complete and its completion is far from certain. Imperialism is inscribed in the DNA of capitalism, and if China has embarked on the capitalist road, then it has also embarked on the imperialist road.

Seven years ago, I wrote,

I don’t believe that the sum total of transformations that have taken place in China over the past three decades yet equal in significance those resulting from China’s socialist revolution, namely the expropriation of the capitalists and landlords and the establishment of a workers’ state (albeit horribly deformed from the outset by its Stalinist leadership). There are many capitalists in China, and their number and wealth is rapidly increasing, and there is indeed a great deal of capitalist accumulation taking place in China today, but most of this capital is being accumulated by Japanese, US etc TNCs—both those whose foreign subsidiaries today produce around 55% of Chinese exports, and also by ‘lead firms’ like Wal-Mart and Dell indulging in arm’s-length exploitation of workers by independent suppliers… Capitalist development in China is still characterised by dependence on exports of low value-added goods to the imperialist economies (or, in the case of China’s high-tech exports, low value-added assembly of imported inputs), and by reliance on FDI from TNCs based in those economies….

Is China’s rise a threat to imperialist domination of Asia and the world? Yes, I believe it is. What sort of threat? That China’s rulers—whether we consider them to be a capitalist class or a Stalinist bureaucracy—will refuse to accept the subordinate, oppressed, submissive status reserved for the so-called emerging nations, that they will challenge US hegemony over Asia and develop a counterweight to the US-Japanese military alliance that rules its coastal waters, that they will wield the potential economic power reflected in their possession of trillions of dollars of US treasury bonds and other financial assets, that their emergent TNCs will muscle in on  mineral resources and markets hitherto the exclusive preserve of the imperialist nations. They are already marching down this road, a road that leads to war, and the USA is responding in the way we would expect the imperial hegemon to respond: the invasion of Iraq was aimed at least as much at intimidating China as at securing US/UK control over Middle Eastern oil.

Much has changed in the last seven years. Chinese state capitalism (for want of a better term) shows signs of developing a strategic challenge to Japanese, European and North American dominance in key industries, from robotics, information technology and artificial intelligence to renewable energy, aerospace and nuclear power generation. These developments, along with sharply increasing military tensions in China’s coastal waters (which have been an American lake since the end of World War II), and the phoney proxy war taking place on and around the Korean peninsula, reinforce the verdict I reached seven years ago—the combination of spreading global capitalist depression and China’s growing challenge to imperialist domination means that we no longer live in a post-World War II world, we live in a pre-World War III world. Class-conscious workers must maintain independence from both sides in this looming conflict and prepare for the revolutionary openings which capitalism’s deepest-ever crisis is certain to produce. Right now, that means denouncing US aggression against Korea and demanding the withdrawal of its military forces and bases from the west Pacific, opposing Japan’s nuclear rearmament, and also opposing Chinese capitalist expansion and the Chinese Communist Party’s attempts to forge an alliance with reactionary capitalist regimes in Myanmar, Pakistan, Sri Lanka and other countries in the path of its ‘One Belt, One Road’.

*  *  *

Finally, Harvey expresses his displeasure with “the kind of polemic that Smith engages in as a substitute for reasoned critique;” in particular that I dared to mock his advocacy  of a “benevolent, New Deal imperialism, preferably arrived at through the sort of coalition of capitalist powers that Kautsky long ago envisaged” (The New Imperialism, pp. 209–211). I would just point out that, so keen was I to accurately summarise his views, no less than 40 percent of David Harvey denies imperialism consists of extended quotes from his works.

Harvey defends his call for a “benevolent imperialism” on the grounds that “it would have been better for the left to support a Keynesian alternative.” But there was, and is, no Keynesian alternative; this is nothing else than a social-democratic fantasy, just as was Kautsky’s dream, shared by Harvey, of an end to inter-imperialist rivalries. And as Lenin explained, social democracy is a nothing else than a euphemism for social imperialism.

John Smith received his PhD from the University of Sheffield and is currently self-employed as a researcher and writer. He was an oil rig worker, bus driver, and telecommunications engineer, and is a long-time activist in the anti-war and Latin American solidarity movements. Winner of the first Paul A. Baran–Paul M. Sweezy Memorial Award for an original monograph concerned with the political economy of imperialism, John’s Imperialism in the Twenty-First Century is a seminal examination of the relationship between the core capitalist countries and the rest of the world in the age of neoliberal globalization. He can be contacted at johncsmith@btinternet.com.

Featured Photograph: Asian Social Forum, 2003

 

ROAPE Editorial: The Political Economies of the Everyday

Roape.net publishes extracts from the editorials of our quarterly review. In this extract from Vol. 44, Issue 154 editor Tunde Zack-Williams discusses several important papers on Kenyan politics, debt and neoliberalism on the continent, gender oppression in Egypt and the collapse of Zimbabwe’s military and the intervention in the Democratic Republic of the Congo. Specially prepared for roape.net the editorial introduces the issue in the context of the Mugabe’s fall from power, Zuma removal from the presidency and the recent elections in Sierra Leone.  

By Tunde Zack-Williams 

On Reading ‘The Political Economies of the Everyday’

As this editorial was being completed, Robert Mugabe was consumed by its flame following his ouster by his once zealous praetorian guard, to be followed barely three months later by the ANC palace coup, which resulted in the removal from office of the lamentable Jacob Zuma of South Africa. The struggle for democracy, economic and political emancipation for the toiling masses continues against those leaders who are prepared to utilise their position for the oppression of the masses and personal aggrandisement.

This general issue, ‘the political economies of the everyday’ deals with various issues impinging on the everyday experiences of many communities on the continent : such as neo-liberalism and its devastating impact on African economies (Carolyn Bassett), gender oppression in Egypt (Karim Malak and Sara Salem), extrajudicial executions in Kenya (Peris S. Jones, Kavita Ramakrishinan, Wangui Kimari), ‘land grabbing’ in Kenya by the political class (Jacqueline M. Klopp and Odenda Lumumba), the life of sex workers in Kenya (Egle Česnulytė), military corruption among Zimbabwean soldiers (Godfrey Maringira), state building and educational expansion in the DRC (Cyril Owen Brandt).

Bassett’s article draws attention to Africa’s growing indebtedness and warns against a new African debt crisis a short decade after debt forgiveness reduced Africa’s mountain of debt. Her concern is premised on the growing number of commodity exporters who are now beginning to experience debt servicing difficulties. Africa’s indebtedness impacted on growth as well as the welfare of the rural and urban poor, money destined for welfare relief ended up in debt repayment. For Bassett, the major source of this growing indebtedness is that African governments have increased their borrowing from several lenders, old and new, particularly from Africa’s international sovereign bonds, the focus of her article. She draws attention to the devastating sway of neoliberal thinking impelling African governments ‘down a dangerous path of higher levels of indebtedness.’ She draws attention to the conclusion of the Marxist political economists, such as Colin Leys, David Harvey and Giovanni Arrighi, who argue that African political economies have been impoverished by the nature of their incorporation into the global markets. The logical deduction from these analyses is that ‘Africa’s international sovereign bonds are but one tool developed by global financial capital to facilitate its accumulation strategies, by financing infrastructure associated with resource extraction and export, while at the same time cultivating profitable new markets  of borrowers.’ She points out that ‘under the current regulatory regime, a new African debt crisis is likely to further deepen the continent’s exploitation in global markets.’

Malak and Salem’s article which focuses on civil society in Egypt, examines the confluence of neoliberalism, gender and citizenship in rural Egypt. More specifically, the authors investigate the running of a microfinance project in al-Minya in Upper Egypt, aimed at empowering a group of rural Egyptian women. In the 1980s, microfinance was recommended by the IFIs and the United Nations as a new approach to revolutionise ‘thinking about how to provide small uncollateralized loans to the poor’. They draw attention to the fact that microfinance, which was designed to ‘keep administrative costs down, reduce risks and provide incentives for repayment’ (ibid, 194), was seen as crucial for economic development in an ‘unbanked population’, creating problems for the poor as they continued to be marginalised (see United Nations 1999). The authors point out that these new forms of production were accompanied by new forms of social relations, and that agriculture was the first sector to be liberalised in Egypt’s transition to an open market economy. The rural areas were stigmatised as backwards and starved of capital, largely because of the lagging status of women. The main question the article addresses is the meaning of womanhood in the hinterland, and it seeks to do this by scrutinising the singular gendered dynamics it creates through the discourse of the ‘rural’. In their critique of neoliberalism, Malak and Salem pose the question that if techno-managerial discourse, market forces and security, which are prerequisites for neoliberalism, are lacking in the Egyptian hinterland, how useful is it then to use neoliberalism to explore microfinance theoretically? Furthermore, they ask: ‘if microfinance so often fails to fulfil its stated goals of alleviating poverty and generating growth, what happens when microfinance NGOs choose to work in the hinterland?’

If it is true as Malak and Salem have argued in their study of Al-Minya that NGOs, the modern usurpers of the functions of the African state are not interested in microfinance, and in addition that women are processed and ‘disciplined in a way to create the market through defining what it means to be a “developed” woman’, then this runs contrary to the unique quality of village life, which is the existence of several enclaves of revenue generation that are impervious both to commodification and proletarianisation. This ran contrary to the aim of the microfinance project, which invited strong resistance from the women to the charging of high interest rates and borrowing due to cultural factors. A unique quality of the village is that it had several enclaves of revenue generation that are impervious both to commodification and proletarianisation. This ran contrary to the aim of the microfinance project, which invited strong resistance from the women to the charging of high interest rates and borrowing due to cultural factors. The authors point to the fact that, on the one hand, workshops or training designed to procure a skill set to liberate these village women ‘almost always translated into bids by urban-based Cairene “experts”’.

The article by Jones, Kimari and Ramakrishnan on Kenya addresses the disturbing politics of extrajudicial executions and civil society in Mathare, a collection of slums with a population of approximately 500,000 people, constitutes a world of its own, with its own informal leadership, structures and institutions away from the central government. The focus of the article is an exploration of a particular struggle, showing how frustration with civil society is being used by social justice activists to garner ideas concerning everyday violence and to mobilise for change. The authors start off by pointing to the unacknowledged shoot-to-kill policy of the Kenyan state, in particular the continuous violence during the presidency of Mwai Kibaki, and an upsurge since 2013 marking the beginning of the regime of Uhuru Kenyatta. The violence is particularly aimed at young men in what the authors call the ‘“other” Nairobi’, i.e. its slums.

Česnulytė’s article relates to another group, namely sex workers in Kenyan society. Her main theoretical tool is Jean-Francois Bayart and Stephen Ellis’s concept of extraversion. She argues that due to the gendered nature of the Kenyan state’s extraversion processes and the resulting dual accountability to national and foreign sovereigns, the Kenyan state’s approach to gender issues is inconsistent and thus produces a situation where social movements with a gender rights agenda can be both included and excluded from the national political scene.  On the one hand, sex workers are the target for state violence as well as from their clients and stigmatisation from the general public; on the other hand, in the context of the ongoing HIV/ AIDS crisis and high levels of inequality, organisations led by Kenyan sex workers are important partners working with the state. For Česnulytė, this ‘seemingly inconsistent approach to individuals selling sex, and to gender issues more widely, is a result of the dual character of the Kenyan state’s accountability and its gendered nature’. This special position of gender in Kenya, it is argued, points to the fact that the Kenyan state is accountable to two sovereigns: the citizens of the state and international donors. Thus, she observes: ‘Gender equality and engagement with sex worker groups is possible in those areas where the state has foreign donor constituents to account for and thus attempts to follow liberal values of equality and civil society inclusion.’

Godfrey Maringira’s article on military corruption in war examines the conducts of Zimbabwean soldiers during their operations in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) war of 1998–2002. The author argues that Zimbabwean infantry units were engaged in corrupt activities during their tour of duty in the DRC: by stealing army rations from the trenches to be sold to civilians in neighbouring communities and to Congolese soldiers. However, the practice did not end once soldiers returned home, but continued in the barracks of Harare and other garrison towns in the country. For the author this aberration points to the collapse of discipline in the armed forces in question, which in turn could reflect on the morale and ability of the infantry to fight for the cause. The author points out that this illegal practice continued among the Zimbabwean units during their tour in the DRC, a far cry from the highly professional army that brought independence to Zimbabwe after a prolonged war of national liberation.  The army was an amalgamation of the two nationalist fighting units (ZANU-PF & ZAPU) and the regular army of the white Rhodesian forces, which came together to form the Zimbabwe National Army (ZNA), which was trained by the British Military Advisory Training Team, and as such was a well-ordered fighting force. However, the author argues that in the post-2000 period Zimbabwean soldiers became deeply unprofessional as they became enmeshed in politics, violence and ‘major corruption’; this was particularly true of senior officers and was symptomatic of other public institutions, including the judiciary, local government and the state. The cost of the war (with up to five battalions deployed in the DRC), in terms of both the numbers of personnel and the expense of maintaining troops abroad, impacted heavily on the Zimbabwean treasury and society. Furthermore, the shortages caused by Zimbabwe’s presence in the DRC led to demands for Zimbabwean troops to be withdrawn from the country. More than a battalion of soldiers deserted or resigned from the Zimbabwean army, with some soldiers alleging that they had not been cared for by the army. The desertion is symptomatic of the fact that a large part of the war resources were devoured by the army top brass. Thus, Maringira observes that many of the soldiers noted that instead of being recognised as professional soldiers, they were now living like ‘militias’. The failure of the ZNA to look after its own soldiers in war and in the barracks partly motivated them to engage in corrupt practices. The ‘abandoned’ Zimbabwean soldiers turned to ‘creative’ survival via ‘military entrepreneurialism’, i.e. revenue generation and a systematic sense of deprofessionalisation, including chirenje (individual initiatives in war, including soliciting food for the commanders).

Finally, as the blogpost of this editorial was being concluded the people of Sierra Leone were preparing for what is perhaps the most important election in the country’s history on the 7 March 2018. For once Sierra Leoneans had an alternative to the two discredited political parties that have ruled since independence in 1961: the Sierra Leone People’s Party (SLPP) the country’s oldest political party; and the All People’s Congress (APC). The latter have been in power longer than any other political party, yet it has never handed over power peacefully to a civilian regime. The approach to governance of both political parties is identical, to the point where people describe the two parties as ‘Alhassan and Alusine’ (twins or, different sides of the same coin). The emergence of a third political party, The National Grand Coalition, a coalition of ‘progressives’ from the two ‘failed’ parties, under the leadership of a former employee of the United Nations, Dr Kandeh Kolleh Yumkella who unsuccessfully sought the presidential nomination of the SLPP, largely due to him being on the wrong side of the ethnic divide, as a Susu from Northern Province. The ticket was handed to Maada Bio the failed bearer of the party’s nomination last time round in 2012 against the leader Ernest Bai Koroma of the ruling APC. Yumkella managed to bring vibrancy around which he was able to rally a substantial number of the youth, including the now infamous ‘trumpism’: ‘Sierra Leone First’, ‘Change is here’, ‘put an end to the wicked twins Alhassan & Alusine’. The governing party mobilised the army to march through the capital in military fatigue, sing intimidating songs to warn the people in the capital to keep their children at home. Among the population, there was widespread fear of foreign interference in the election, mainly from the People’s Republic of China, whose citizens have been seen in the governing APC political colours in party meetings; APC  supporters carrying the flag of the Peoples Republic of China, and the fear being expressed that the Chinese who had invested in in mineral extraction, road construction are partisan in their support for the governing party, and whose headquarters it is alleged to have been built by the Chinese Communist Party. [roape.net will be carrying coverage of the Sierra Leone elections next week in an extensive interview with Tunde Zack-Williams]

The full editorial and issue can be accessed on the Taylor and Francis website while some articles can be accessed for free if you log-in/register on roape.net. 

Tunde Zack-Williams is Emeritus Professor of Sociology at the University of Central Lancashire. He was President of the UK African Studies Association from 2006 to 2008. His books include The Quest for Sustainable Peace: The 2007 Sierra Leone Elections (2008). He is an editor of the Review of African Political Economy and a member of the Africa Panel of the British Academy.

Featured Photograph:  A woman carries water on her back as her son walks on her side in Kenya’s Mathare slum, Nairobi (20 February, 2017)

 

 

Dispossession Does Not Mean Accumulation: Capitalist Accumulation in Africa

By Daniel Bin

In recent decades, worldwide contemporary events of expropriations, evictions and dispossessions have come to the forefront of public and academic debates. Similar events to those that occurred in Europe at the dawn of the capitalist mode of production are now being dramatically reproduced in the periphery of the world-system. Africa, for instance, is probably the most significant area of so-called land grabs, considering just one example of dispossession. The Land Matrix (2018) shows that of the 42 million hectares of agricultural land that have potentially been converted from smallholder production to commercial use worldwide, 22 million hectares are African. Departing from Marx’s so-called primitive accumulation, scholars have claimed that such an inaugural process of capital would be an ongoing process. For Saskia Sassen, capitalism has advanced to a new phase of of primitive accumulation that arose as a result of the financialisation of the economy. For others, primitive accumulation never ceased to exist given that it is necessary to late capitalism and, for this reason, must coexist with it (see De Angelis; Hardt and Negri; Harvey).

One major problem with these and most other discussions on contemporary dispossessions is relating them to primitive accumulation without paying sufficient attention to whether the former contribute — and, if they do, how — or not to actual capitalist accumulation. For some, the simple occurrence of dispossession seems to be enough to associate it with primitive accumulation or even with capital accumulation. This is the case of the well-known and probably the most influential contemporary approach to primitive accumulation: the concept of ‘accumulation by dispossession’ which David Harvey offers as a terminological alternative given that it would be ‘peculiar to call an ongoing process ‘primitive’ or ‘original’’ (2003:144). For him, ‘accumulation by dispossession’ has ‘become the dominant form of accumulation relative to expanded reproduction’ of capital (Harvey 2003:153). First, it is important to mention the logical impossibility present in this claim, as no value can be distributed without first being produced (Mandel, 1990). The imprecision is also noticeable in the four main elements Harvey draws on to illustrate his concept: privatisation, financialisation, management and manipulation of crises, and state fiscal redistributions. He does not say why one should distinguish the dispossessions brought about by two connected elements as financialisation and manipulation of crises. Furthermore, financialisation can involve state redistributions — e.g., through public debt — and such redistributions can be brought about by privatisation. It is worth highlighting that Harvey himself suggested overlaps like these.

“Primitive accumulation was the process through which the capitalist mode of production had its foundational round of both proletarianisation and capitalisation”

To deal with such theoretical deficiencies, one distinction to be made is that accumulation and dispossession are different social processes. Unlike Marx once thought, dispossessions — I understand the term ‘primitive accumulation’ as referring only to the capital’s pre-historical events referred to by Marx — are still developing. They are signs of the times, when neoliberal ideas and their corresponding practices have become hegemonic. Contemporary dispossessions have served to counteract falling rates of profit by pushing down labour costs — Marxian variable capital — in which the social wage is included. As the latter is granted through public policies, one can see why the welfare state has been the main target of neoliberals. Neoliberalism and the dispossessions it promotes have also served to raise profit rates by pushing down the costs of constant capital. Such dispossessions, however, can also simply redistribute economic surpluses that have already been produced. Thus, a second theoretical distinction to be made is between dispossession and exploitation: the latter is the social relation that brings about capital accumulation, while the former is a condition — though not a sufficient one — for the expansion of the scale of accumulation.

The distinction between dispossession and exploitation is present in Marx’s study of primitive accumulation given that it ‘takes as its guiding thread precisely the elements which were distinguished by the analysis of the capitalist structure’ (Balibar [1968] 2009:313). These elements were those brought about by the ‘separation between the workers and the ownership of the conditions for the realization of their labour’ (Marx 1990 [1890]:874). This means that producers cannot work for themselves and therefore must work for others, which in capitalism implies labour exploitation. Primitive accumulation was thus the process through which the capitalist mode of production had its foundational round of both proletarianisation and capitalisation. They respectively turned direct producers into wage-dependent producers and means of production into capital. Looking at the Marxian rate of profit (s÷[c+v]), one can conclude that primitive accumulation created both constant capital (c) and variable capital (v) as such, thus making them available to capitalists for the extraction of surplus-value (s).

The distinction between dispossession and exploitation is even more apparent in the Marxian rate of profit. While exploitation impacts the numerator (s), dispossessions can impact the denominator of this rate, namely the costs of either constant capital (c) or variable capital (v). Departing from this and the differentiations mentioned above, I have suggested some theoretical categories of dispossessions in a study that takes into account the different forms in which they relate, contribute, or do not contribute, to the accumulation of capital (Bin 2018). The first concept is redistributive dispossession, which refers to the dispossession that does not create any condition for the expansion of the production of surplus value. It involves nothing but the redistribution of surpluses already produced. In short, I defined it as ‘an appropriation of surpluses that has no impact on capitalization, proletarianization or commodification. Translated into the Marxist formula of profit rate, [redistributive dispossession] increases neither constant capital (c) nor variable capital (v)’ (Bin 2018:82).

A clear example of redistributive dispossession is privatisation, once considered by David Harvey as ‘the cutting edge of accumulation by dispossession’ (2003:157). Through privatisations, ‘assets held by the state or in common were released into the market where over-accumulating capital could invest in them, upgrade them, and speculate in them’ (Harvey 2003:158). One of Harvey’s inaccuracies here has to do with treating state-owned assets almost as if they were a commons. There are instead numerous situations when they are deployed in the general process of capital accumulation, to which the state has always been fundamental. More importantly, a simple transfer of ownership by no means leads to the expansion of capital. ‘Accumulation of capital is [the] increase of proletarian labor with its associated constant capital’ (Zarembka 2000:223), none of which are brought about by privatisation.

“I depart from the understanding of most discussions on contemporary dispossessions which relates it to primitive accumulation without sufficient theoretical care when associating it to actual capitalist accumulation”

For the process of accumulation to expand, both labour power and means of production must also expand. That is, capital expands through proletarianisation on one hand, and capitalisation or commodification on the other. This leads to two other concepts I have begun to develop in order to deal with contemporary dispossessions and their potential impacts on capital (Bin 2018). One is expanding capitalising dispossession, which, besides proletarianisation — the transformation of direct producers into wage-dependent producers — involves capitalisation, i.e., the transformation of means of subsistence into capital. Examples can be traced from India, with peasants displaced to give room for dam constructions, to Egypt, with fisherfolks displaced by industrial fish farming, to Mozambique, with local communities displaced by mining projects, to Brazil, with urban residents evicted to make room for constructions related to events such as the FIFA World Cup or the Olympic Games.

The other concept I have suggested to deal with contemporary dispossessions and their potential impacts on capital accumulation is expanding commodifying dispossession (Bin 2018). As we have seen, expanding capitalising dispossession combines the processes of proletarianisation and capitalisation, which lead to a reduction in the costs of variable capital and of constant capital, respectively. The cost of constant capital can also be driven down by commodification, which means granting means of subsistence with exchange values in addition to the use values they already had. It is true that a commodity is capital; nevertheless, I distinguish commodification from capitalisation in the sense that the latter is the process through which means of subsistence are turned into means of production of commodities. Commodification, more specifically, is the process through which a means of subsistence that was hitherto not a commodity is turned into a commodity.

Another distinction between expanding capitalising dispossession and expanding commodifying dispossession is that only the former involves eviction. Nonetheless, both commodifying and capitalising dispossessions involve proletarianisation, which is a condition for capital to expand. In the case of capitalising dispossession, proletarianisation occurs when direct producers are evicted from the place where they produce for themselves. They are then forced to join the labour force, either as employees or as part of the reserve army of labour. In the case of commodifying dispossession, proletarianisation is brought about by denying direct producers access to means of subsistence. One example is the transformation of public into private services, such as healthcare, education or social security. Thus, besides the goal of reducing labour costs — the social wage in these cases — there is a mercantile motivation in these dispossessions. It turns out that the less the state funds healthcare or social security, the greater the potential growth in private health insurance or pension funds.

*

As one can see, the discussion up to this point is fundamentally theoretical. In this sense, the concepts of redistributive dispossession, expanding capitalising dispossession, and expanding commodifying dispossession are ideal types intended to guide empirically oriented studies. The first empirical study I carried out was an analysis of urban interventions in the city of Rio de Janeiro that occurred during the preparations for the 2016 Olympic Games (Bin 2017). In this study, redistributive dispossessions were seen in subsidies and fiscal exemptions granted by both the city and federal governments. The municipal government had committed to granting budget resources to acquire the properties needed to meet the demands of the Games, which included cash settlements for evictions. National government in turn exempted the organisers of the Olympics and their associates from federal taxes on all activities related to the organisation and realisation of the Games.

“Rosa Luxemburg once stated that even after the first stages of European capitalism, military power in the central countries was used to appropriate means of production from modern colonies and turn their native populations into proletarians. The periphery remains such a source, and given that capital existence depends upon its expansion, dispossessions in these areas have become even more apparent”

The above dispossessions can be considered redistribution insofar as they do not per se convert means of subsistence into capital nor direct producers into proletarians. Proletarianisation was rather connected to the actual urban interventions. One example was the construction of facilities for the Olympic rowing and canoeing competitions that threatened fisherfolks with displacement from their fishing sites. Others were evicted from sites where they had been running small businesses, or from places near to better public services, to make room for new urban projects. Capitalisation in turn was connected to the conversion of these sites into means of production, such as the land where for-profit mass transportation systems and other urban infrastructure and real estate projects were constructed. In some cases, commodification — which does not involve evictions — stemmed, for instance, from the destruction of environmental reserves to make room for real estate projects or for-profit transportation systems.

As I have said, the study of urban interventions that occurred during the preparations for the Rio 2016 Olympics was my first empirical research based on the concepts of dispossession mentioned above. In this study, the theoretical definitions were easier to associate to their historical manifestations in the case of redistributive dispossession. The latter is based on one single social process — redistribution of surpluses — while expanding capitalising and expanding commodifying dispossessions are more complex. Given that each of these involves capitalisation or commodification, respectively, and both involve proletarianisation, their potential empirical synchronicity make the analysis more difficult. This is why the section of my study on the Rio Olympics devoted to expanding dispossession — vis-à-vis redistributive dispossession — was organised under the headings proletarianisation, capitalisation and commodification. These processes provide historical evidence on the more abstract types of dispossession, whose conceptual delimitations nevertheless demand much more historical research.

*

To develop the argument summarised here, I depart from the understanding of most discussions on contemporary dispossessions that relate it to primitive accumulation without sufficient theoretical care when associating it to actual capitalist accumulation. By so doing, such discussions end up moving away from the original conception of Marx, for whom primitive accumulation is ‘a process which operates two transformations, whereby social means of subsistence and production are turned into capital, and the immediate producers are turned into wage-labourers’ (1990 [1890]:874). These processes are not always clearly noticeable, or worse, not even present in some contemporary discussions. Thus, my aim has been to bridge contemporary theoretical gaps with some older concepts that are nevertheless useful to better comprehend late capitalism. The objective therefore is no other than to recall that the core of Marxian primitive accumulation stands on the processes of capitalisation and proletarianisation. As such, the latter categories — besides commodification — are central to any analysis intended to relate dispossession to capitalist accumulation.

As I have stressed above, the increase of both proletarian labour and its associate constant capital provides the condition for capital to expand. In this sense, the periphery of the world-system is of paramount interest. Rosa Luxemburg ([1913] 2003) once stated that even after the first stages of European capitalism, military power in the central countries was used to appropriate means of production from modern colonies and turn their native populations into proletarians. The periphery remains such a source, and given that capital existence depends upon its expansion, dispossessions in these areas have become even more apparent. At the beginning of this blogpost, I mentioned the significance of similar dispossessing phenomena that took place in Europe at the dawn of the capitalist mode of production as being reproduced in the periphery. Among the regions of the Global South today, it is probably Africa that is the most significant place of so-called land grabs, as well as being a stage for other dispossessions of the means of subsistence, such as fresh water or fishing sites. Perhaps redistributive or expanding — either capitalising or commodifying — dispossessions can be useful categories in order to understand the political economic aspects of such social processes.

Daniel Bin is an assistant professor at the University of Brasilia. He is the author of A superestrutura da dívida [The superstructure of debt] (Alameda, São Paulo, 2017).

Featured Photo: Tanzanian activists place ‘Sold’ signs along Dar-es-Salaam’s famous Coco Beach as part of Oxfam’s Global Day of Action to stop land grabs in 2013.

References

Balibar, Étienne. [1968] 2009. “The basic concepts of historical materialism.” Pp. 223-345 in Reading Capital, edited by Louis Althusser and Étienne Balibar. London: Verso.

Bin, Daniel. 2017. “Rio de Janeiro’s Olympic dispossessions.” Journal of Urban Affairs 39(7):924-938.

Bin, Daniel. 2018. “So-called accumulation by dispossession.” Critical Sociology 44(1):75-88.

Harvey, David. 2003. The new imperialism. New York: Oxford University Press.

Land Matrix. 2018. “Agricultural drivers.” Retrieved 4 March 2018 (http://landmatrix.org/en/get-the-idea/agricultural-drivers/).

Luxemburg, Rosa. [1913] 2003. The accumulation of capital. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul.

Mandel, Ernest. 1990. “Introduction.” Pp. 11-86 in Capital: a critique of political economy (Vol. 1), edited by Karl Marx. London: Penguin.

Marx, Karl. 1990 [1890]. Capital: a critique of political economy (Vol. 1). London: Penguin.

Sassen, Saskia. 2010. “The return of primitive accumulation.” Pp. 51-75 in The global 1989: continuity and change in world politics, edited by George Lawson, Chris Armbruster, and Michael Cox. New York: Cambridge University Press.

Sassen, Saskia. 2014. Expulsions: brutality and complexity in the global economy. Cambridge, MA: Belknap.

Zarembka, Paul 2000.Value, capitalist dynamics and money. Amsterdam and New York: JAI.

Hunger in the Name of Development: Rwandan Farmers Under Stress

By An Ansoms

At the opening of the 15th National Leadership Retreat, president Kagame asked national leaders why Rwanda is among the worst performers in terms of child malnutrition. A recent report – still publicly unavailable – of the National Institute of Statistics found a child malnutrition rate of 38 percent. This figure seems a weird anomaly in a country that is lauded for its ‘developmental success.’ Average yearly growth rates around 7.2 percent are among the top 10 globally. The country ranks 41st on the World Bank Doing Business Report,  and is applauded as one of the world’s most performing business reformers. At the continental level, the country is praised for the implementation of a Green Revolution and named top performer in the transformation of the agricultural sector.

However, in the past couple of years, critical voices have questioned the Rwandan development model, and particularly the Green Revolution’s beneficial effects. Some highlight the contradictions between different agricultural productivity data. They question the legitimacy of using productivity figures as a proof of agrarian reform successes.[1] Others call into question the long-term sustainability of the agricultural and land sector reform in terms of poverty reduction,[2] and point to the increasing poverty rates over the past couple of years (2010/11-2013/14). [For the on-going debate on Rwandan poverty figures on roape.net see our blogposts here and here.] Also, from within the system, there is recognition about the decrease in citizen’s satisfaction with agrarian and land policies.[3] The government presents itself as an organisation that can learn, and there is indeed increased openness to discuss on problematic policy aspects.

However, deeply embedded systemic problems within the ongoing rural transformation process remain unaddressed. These systemic problems can be linked to two features of the current model. The first is that it is implemented through a rigid top-down authoritarian system, and secondly, it is blindly obsessed with reaching performance targets. The way in which Rwandan leaders’ frame the problem of malnutrition, illustrate the lack of a broader critical reflection.

Child malnutrition is – first of all – explained as a result of farmers’ ignorance on children’s nutritional needs (from interviews conducted in January 2018). Government agents explained how ‘they [farmers] do not understand the importance of a diverse food diet’; how malnutrition is a ‘problem of farmers’ mindset.’ One interviewee also highlighted the problem of gender, referring to the male household heads consuming their family’s income for their own amusement in bars (‘they transform money into beer instead of food for their kids’). The Rwandan government’s focus on the necessity for intensified awareness and sensitisation campaigns frames the problem as a matter of making farmers ‘responsible’.

Such framing ignores the deeply problematic systemic flaws within the top-down imposed agrarian model. The set-up of the agrarian modernisation policy focuses on modern production techniques but ignores the local know-how of farmers. The Green Revolution policy package focuses on regional specialisation and increased marketization of agricultural production. This is done is four main ways. Firstly, through land consolidation and crop intensification programmes, farmers are pushed into imposed crop production schemes. They are obliged to buy predefined seeds and fertilisers (even if partly subsidised). They are then obliged to cultivate and harvest according to pre-imposed schemes. Secondly, intermediary traders can easily exploit farmers’ dependency. Cooperatives structures are not a panacea to this problem. In fact, cooperative management structures rarely involve bottom-up accountability. Thirdly, farmers – in turn – have become dependent upon a monetarised economy, whose logics clashes with the farmers’ daily struggle for survival. Most farmers do not have a financial buffer to wait for money until the end of the season. Moreover, cooperatives often take time to process harvests. Waiting for payment for crops that were harvested weeks or months before, puts farmers under severe stress. Finally, there is high food price inflation, particularly for food crops that are not locally produced. Limited market integration gives enhanced bargaining power to intermediary traders and contributes to the emergence of price anomalies. Unpredictable price fluctuations and high inflation profoundly affect farmers’ purchasing power. Government interventions to correct food price distortions often take time and are not always efficient. Taken together, these processes have a perverse impact upon farmers’ capacity to feed their families, or to diversify their diet.

Moreover, there are sincere concerns around the ecological sustainability of the Green Revolution model. Attentive observers might have noticed an increasingly present phenomenon in the Rwandan countryside: non-cultivated areas of arable land. Several reasons explain this worrying trend. Firstly, in our interviews, farmers explained how the price of the imposed seeds and fertilisers are often higher than the potential return, particularly since the subsidies have decreased. As they are not allowed to produce other crops or use their own seeds, they sometimes opt for leaving land fallow. Secondly, in several zones, the composition of soils has changed due to over-intensive or badly applied use of chemical fertiliser. Farmers refer to ‘soils having become addictive to chemical fertilisers.’ When the price of chemical fertiliser goes up and farmers are no longer able to afford them, harvest rates may significantly decline. The same may happen due to soil quality depletion as a result of consistent abuse of chemical fertilisers over several years. As a result, farmers leave land fallow.

A additional argument – brought up in relation to the malnutrition discussion – is the problem of fake reporting by local leaders, blurring the true image of local realities. At the National Leadership Summit, several speakers mentioned the problem of falsified performance statistics, rendering efficient policy planning impossible. Several of our informants highlight the ‘auto-critical nature’ of the summit, with ‘ministers under fire’ as a result of the malnutrition rate, and local leaders treated as ‘liars and even traitors’. The prime minister highlighted how ‘there is still a bad habit of falsifying statistics when they [local leaders] are working on their reports. That compromises our planning because we cannot know how the country is doing when they give us unrealistic statistics’.

However, an argument around the importance of local leaders’ responsibility ignores the systemic flaws in the administrative way of functioning. Several authors have analysed how decentralization in Rwanda has reinforced the power of the centre, while inserting ‘tightly monitored, technocratic and depoliticised local governments’[4] into a logic of imihigo performance contracts (imihigo is a Kinyarwanda word meaning to vow to deliver). [5] Whereas this has resulted in a highly responsive administrative system, there is limited space for bottom-up input in decision making.[6] Local leaders’ positions depend upon their capacity to prove results in reaching pre-imposed quantitative targets, not upon their capacity to critically assess the suitability of those targets and adapt them to local level realities. The yearly evaluation assessments and ceremonies further increase the pressure upon local administrators. As a result, there is frequent cheating in their quantitative reporting.

In fact, local leaders urged to perform in line with national development targets can even result in actions that impede development. A clear illustration is the phenomenon of unused radical terraces. Over the past five years, land terracing has been a major priority in VUP (Vision 2020 Umurenge) programmes. Many District Development Plans include specific targets in terms of hectares to be terraced. However, the pressure to perform has led to aberrations. So, the zones destined for terracing are designated by local administrators. The vulnerability of local farmers – at least temporarily losing access to their land – is rarely taken into account. Furthermore, in several zones, terracing was badly done. In certain cases, the top soil layer was mixed with deeper layers, which severely reduces the agrarian potential of the soil. In other cases, terracing was not accompanied with re-fertilisation measures in absence of organic material. In certain zones we even saw radical terraces covered with eucalyptus trees. What is more, the involvement of the Rwandan Reserve Force in the most recent terracing programmes may be an opportunity but is also a challenge (the RRF is comprised of Rwandan nationals serving in a quasi-military arm of the Rwandan Defence Forces). Several of our interviewees pointed to the speed with which demobilised soldiers deliver results. However, some pointed to the problematic lack of know-how within the militarily organised structures coordinating this process, and the limited margin for input from agrarian specialists and a complete ignorance of local farmers’ know-how in sustainable soil protection. Lastly, in January 2018, we gathered several accounts of empty terraces being offered to anyone willing to invest in agricultural production for very cheap prices, and regardless of existing land rights. The phenomenon of Lost Land testifies of systemic mistakes within a rigid top-down authoritarian administrative order in which local leaders blindly run after predefined targets.

A final issue of concern is the position of international donors. Many of the projects executed under the Green Revolution programme have been funded by major international donors, such as the World Bank, the European Union, International Fund for Agricultural Development (IFAD) and the Department for International Development (DFID) in the United Kingdom. Donors appreciate the Rwandan policy makers’ capacity to deliver results in line with clearly defined targets. However, very little reflection is carried out around whether this target-orientedness adds up to a socially and ecologically sustainable development method.

Farmers see themselves being considered as ‘rats in a laboratory’ on whom a variety of policy measures are tested. The levels of frustration are increasing. The lack of space for discussion on systemic problems risks undermining Rwanda’s economic, social and ecological future.

An Ansoms is a long-standing ROAPE contributor. She has a PhD in Applied Economics and is a Professor in development studies at the Université Catholique de Louvain, Belgium. Her focus is on natural resource conflicts and challenges for rural development in the Great Lakes Region of Africa.

Featured Photograph: Carrot farming in Eastern Rwanda in 2015. 

Notes

[1] See Desiere, S., L. Staelens, and M. D’Haese (2016) “When the Data Source Writes the Conclusion: Evaluating Agricultural Policies.” Journal of Development Studies 52 (9): 1372–87.

[2] A collective of ten researchers specialised in rural development in Rwanda wrote a joint article on this subject; See Ansoms et al (2018) ‘The Rwandan agrarian and land sector modernisation: ‘Confronting macro performance with lived experiences on the ground’, Review of African Political Economy, forthcoming; see also https://roape.net/2017/06/28/evidence-mounts-poverty-inflation-rwanda/. See also Dawson, N., A. Martin, and T. Sikor (2016) ‘Green revolution in sub-saharan Africa: Implications of imposed innovation for the wellbeing of rural smallholders’ World Development 78: 204-218. Huggins, C. (2017) Agricultural Reform in Rwanda: Authoritarianism, Markets and Zones of Governance (Zed Books).

[3] Between 2013 and 2016, satisfaction with the quantity, quality and performances within the agrarian sector decreased from 57% to 48% and from 76% to 67% within the land sector. See Rwanda Governance Board (2014, 2017), Rwanda Citizen Report Card, Kigali, Rwanda Governance Board.

[4] See Chemouni, B. (2014) ‘Explaining the design of the Rwandan decentralization: elite vulnerability and the territorial repartition of power’, Journal of Eastern African Studies 8 (2): 246-262 (citation from p. 246).

[5] See also: Purdekova, A. (2015) Making Ubumwe: Power, State and Camps in Rwanda’s Unity-Building Project, Studies in Forced Migration, Volume 34, Berghahn Books. Ingelaere, B. (2016) Inside Rwanda’s Gacaca Courts: Seeking Justice after Genocide, Critical Human Rights Series, University of Wisconsin Press.

[6] See Chemouni, B. (2016) ‘Taking stock of Rwanda’s decentralisation: changing local governance in a post-conflict environment’, Third World Thematics 1 (6): 763-778.

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We use cookies to collect and analyse information on site performance and usage, and to enhance and customise content. By clicking into any content on this site, you agree to allow cookies to be placed. To find out more see our