Monthly Archives: February 2014

Finally a full stop to the (in)famous greed vs. grievance debate: Lars-Erik Cederman, Kristian Skrede Gleditsch and Halvard Buhaug (2013) Inequality, Grievances, and Civil War, New York: Cambridge UP.


This book will hopefully set an end to the deeply fatigued and flawed debate about Paul Collier’s  and Anke Hoeffler’s claim that grievances do not matter for the outbreak of violent conflicts. Its epistemology is the same as Collier and Hoeffler’s, that is the book is situated in the behaviouralist research paradigm. It therefore can hardly be brushed away as ‘non-scientific’ as it uses exactly those scientising tools that are now so popular in the Journal of Peace Research. We have categories, variables (dependent and independent, of course), causal mechanisms and datasets with a lot of numbers, a nicely constructed research design and pretty proofs of hypotheses (including some francy graphs which are most useful for teaching) . And grievances matter. Full stop. Yeah.

Yet… this book also has everything that makes behaviouralist research so boring: a  lack of critical and reflexive discussion of categories, terms and notions; a superficial, opportunistic and partial reading of sociological, historical and anthropological literature; a couple of sweeping claims which would be almost funny if they weren’t so ideologized western-centric — for instance the claim: “In the new era of national self-determination and popular sovereignty that followed after the American and French revolutions in the late eighteenth century, it become increasingly difficult and costly to conquer territory, let alone to control it against the will of the local population” (pos. 986 in my kindle version) – to say the least, this is a very unusual way of describing the century of empire and colonialism….

And of course the study suffers from the greatest weakness of behaviouralist research, namely findings which are absolutely unsurprising for everyone who knows from zillions of case studies and historical literature that ‘civil wars are not a stupid thing’ as Cramer said so nicely in his book.

What do we learn from this study? If there are objective inequalities in a society and if there are ethno-national cleavages along which these inequalities run, if these inequalities are aptly exploited by the state, for instance by consistently maintaining discriminating and excluding policies, and if the groups can be mobilised through discoursive frames that pitch ethnic groups against each other or against the state, we have a situation with salient grievances. In such a situation there is an increased likelihood of armed and violent conflict. Bam!  What a truly revolutionary insight.

Now, to be fair, within the paradigm of behaviouralist research this book reformulats these insights most astutely and takes refreshingly new approaches to number crunching. It is, hence,  able to set an end to the (in)famous debate over greed vs. grievances by showing that economic fortunes of populations are closely interrelated with their political standing and that this in turn shapes their preparedness for violent politics. It allows for a multi-layered and hence somewhat more complex reconstruction of pathways to rebellion than those that this kind of research had produced before where mountains or oil where identified as causing violent politics. It reintroduces politics into the equation and it tries at least to account for processual developments and change. The latter tentative is inherently limited and restricted by the rigidity of quantitative models – there is simply a point where a category has to be fixed and a time span has to be defined consistently across many cases.

The research also has a take on a couple of questions, which this type of research had, up to now, rarely asked. It formulates ideas and hypotheses about the role of emotions, hence departing from the debilitating rigidity of the rational actor model. Indeed, the authors identify emotions as being the essential ‘jigsaw puzzle piece’ that connects objective grievances with the mobilisation of groups through discursive frames.

It also, and this is really something quite unusual for this kind of research, attempts to conceptualize conflicts as relational process. The authors conceptualize conflict process as conditioned by social relations first by taking into account group dynamics. This goes together with their emphasis on emotions and the consecutive departure from methodological individualism. Here, individuals and potential rebels behave in certain ways because they are members of groups, because others are important: their sympathy, their gaze and their feelings, good or bad.

Second, they conceptualize conflict processes as relational as they formulate a ping-pong of action and reaction between the adversary groups, or between the adversary group and the state or what the authors call “the interactive logic of claims and counterclaims issued by challengers and incumbents” (pos. 1352). The study makes extremely good use of social movements literature and this section in particular relies heavily on Jeff Goodwin’s “No other way out”. Yet, their relational thinking also finds its inherent limitation through the behaviouralist research design in which processes have to be linear and progressive to be measurable in order to avoid endogeity problems or reverse causation.

And so in the end, the study’s analysis does not go much beyond the already existing qualitative literature on grievances and violent conflict. Its central piece, the new data set of ‘Ethnic Power Relations’ offers a tool for bringing about the behaviouralist, measured proofs of what much of the qualitative case studies have already argued before (notably those quoted by the authors like Wood’s case study of El Salvador or Jeff Goodwin’s comparative case studies) and it is, surely, an achievement in itself. The dataset is certainly helpful for studies on power-sharing mechanisms and can serve well for practitioners interested in conflict prevention. It is a fine example of applied science in social science and conflict research.

Yet, in terms of understanding the how and why of conflicts the study still leaves many more questions open than it answers. First, the conflicts identified by the authors are only a small section of all armed conflicts the world has witnessed in the past decades. Notably, a large number of those conflicts which have shocked the world public most like the war in Sierra Leone or Liberia, the conflict in Somalia, large parts of the conflicts in the Congo are not considered. They obviously fit the overall framework as the authors’ focus on ethno-national groups is determined by the fact that they only have data for these groups but not by their framework.

Second, the framework is too general and unspecific to provide insights into the concrete why and how. Where do those elites come from who frame inequalities as grievances? How are these frames transmitted? How does the interaction with other groups interfere with these framing processes? Are framers, mobilizers and fighters a homogenous group or do internal divisions exist and what effect does this have, for instance on radicalization or, on the contrary, pacification? What is the role of layered and clustered identities and how do they affect mobilisation processes? These are just a couple of questions that remain unanswered by this book.

Third, the book suffers like most of this literature from its definitory focus on government-rebel group conflicts. In many social conflicts, the target of the rebellious group is not forcibly the state or the government (the RUF being a case in point as their interest in capturing the state seems to have been relatively low, see Peters).  Nation-state borders and official governments might also be simply irrelevant (blatant cases of non-existing governments like in Somalia for instance) or their involvement might be hardly recognisable in conflicts. Indeed, as Duffield pointed out some time ago in his book “Global Governance and New Wars”, many current conflicts might be better understood as conflicts over different forms of political organisation and community than those traditionally understandable with the nation-state goggles on.

In sum, the book makes an important contribution to the debate within the behaviouralist paradigm as it uses behaviouralist tools to demonstrate some of the conflict processes that have already been well analysed in the qualitative literature. It does not go beyond this as the behaviouralist paradigm does not allow delving into deep with the messy, contradictory, spiralling and irremediably non-linear social processes of conflict. Yet, as hopefully final word on the question whether the importance of grievances can be measured and therefore ‘count’, it has a brilliant place to take. It also reveals a long row of questions that still seek answers but which are unlikely to find them in this kind of quantitative analysis.

Oh, and it certainly desserves a brownie point for being one of the rare studies of this kind which locates the causes of the Croatian war, among others, in the discriminatory policies of the Tudjman regime and the Kraijna Serbs’ reaction to these, and not firstly in Serbian ‘barbarism’.







The violence of non-violence


The  50th anniversary of the March on Washington has passed last year — incidentally I am writing  a paper on Dr. Martin Luther King as icon of the West for a conference. Reading through all that has been published on ‘the speech‘ I was baffled again about the great discrepancy that exists in the pompous celebrations of Dr. King and his ‘I have a dream’ speech and the realities of black lifes and movements in the US (and around the world for that matter). Birkbeck College had Angela Davis as guest in October and in her public lecture she lays out precisely which parts of the civil rights movement of the 1960s is remembered and which has been cast away, forgotten and denied (the podcast of the lecture can be found here).

A common answer to the question why Martin Luther King has become so famous and not the Black Panthers or Malcolm X is that Dr. King used non-violent strategies. And non-violence is, of course, better than violence. I especially often heard that elogy of non-violence during my interviews with UN staff. None of those who said that were black. The two blacks I interviewed (from Haiti and Kenya) did not mention Martin Luther King nor non-violence.

The idea that Martin Luther King is “shining forth in the darkness of an age of nuclear weapons and genocide” as Chakrabarty and Carson write on their book cover superficially seems plausible to me as white, European, well-fed, well-educated and utterly middle-class woman. Yet, it is once again the common sense part of this answer that bothers me. Isn’t there a question that we social scientists have to ask about the relationship between revolutions, social change and violence? Where would be today if there hadn’t been violence in 1776 or 1789?

But this is a long question to answer and this blog is not quite the right place. But there is another tweek of the non-violence-is-good equation that bothers me and that is the simple fact that any non-violence strategy  needs brutal violence to be effective as social movement strategy. And it needs that violence to be known and seen everywhere. Sit-ins that are not washed away by water hoses and tear gas, demonstrations that are not battled down or leaders who are not martyrs are simply far less effective than if they had been met with equally peaceful ignorance.

Let’s take the March on Washington. Would it have attracted so many people and would it have been such huge event if there had not been for the hundreds and thousands of children and teenagers blasted off the street by high-pressure water hoses in Birmingham, Alabama, just a couple of weeks before? Wasn’t it a general principle of the civil rights movement that the non-violent protests had to be contrasted with the extreme violence of the state, the police, the army and more generally the white population and its KKK? The violence with which these protests were met was an absolutely essential part of the success of the movement!

Hence, the civil rights movement was not non-violent! This is not to say that the civil rights movement provoked purposefully violent responses, it rather aimed at exposing the brutality and violence that was already there. The site provides a list with short biographies of people who were killed in the 14 years from 1954 to 1968 when King was murdered. This is a list of the people who were murdered as direct result of the civil rights movement. How many more have died from the consequences of ill treatment and torture, arbitrary imprisonment and inhumane working conditions? Impossible to know.

Yet, pointing to the violence that is necessary to make non-violence an effective social movement strategy reminds of the original antagonism that lay at the heart of the civil rights movement. The argument that non-violence is something inherently good, something laudable per se, becomes rather shale and meak when one starts to look at who is saying that about whom. A close look at the list on the website above speaks a clear language: the civil rights movement was non-violent for whites only. Well, not exactly, it was non-violent for those against whom the protests were directed and it was very violent for those who sought freedom, justice and equality – which they eventually achieved legally and constitutionally but which is still a far cry for large parts of the US. It is, maybe, the most remarkable aspect of the movement that the violence that was commonly and usually directed against blacks only now also killed whites like James Reeb or Viola Gregg Luzio.

Might it be that Dr. King’s non-violence was good because it spared me, the white, middle class woman? Wouldn’t I have good reasons to think differently about how the justice achieved (or not achieved) through non-violence if I had been subject to the violence that was necessary and corrolary to Dr. King’s strategy? The non-violence of the civil rights movement is a negative vision of peace and justice as it asks only for unjustice to stop but not for justice to be construed actively. Elizabeth Wood emphasizes how the guerilla struggle in El Salvador had created a pleasure of agency for the campensinos as it allowed them not only the dignity of ‘standing up against’ (which the civil rights movements certainly did, too) but also effectively, actively and vigorously fight for ‘their’ land and life.

Did non-violence give the same pleasure of agency? It certainly claimed to do so but did it? And if so, was that pleasure of agency enough to actively construct a more just world for blacks (or any ethnic minority in the US for that matter)? This is an important question to answer because if the answer is negative, then the only reason to believe in the moral superiority of non-violence is that it spared one part of the population of being killed — and not incidentally the one that was not non-violent. So, the questions is not only whether taking up violence might be a more ‘rational’ (in sense of efficient) and empowering option for those who are protesting and resisting but also if the morality of non-violence is not a rather hypocritical and, basically, extremely conservative morality.




Posting again


Well, the research leave is over since quite some time but bizarrely neither the book is finished nor have these blogposts written themselvs. Hm…..

So I decided to take up writing again. I can tell that it will not be as frequent as before and probably shorter pieces (or maybe not). But it will be again on my readings on peace and war in the world and this and that thought, idea and reflection. Just to repeat it again, this blog is not an academic paper repository. Some of what I write is polemical, yes. Some of it might be not well digested, yes. Some of it might be utterly indegistable, yes. That’s what blogs are for. They are a repository for ideas and arguments that might (or might not) become parts of more polished, sophisticated, weighted, balanced and I don’t know what papers. These blogs are my little fridge to keep these ideas fresh.