Ivory Coast

Though Nestlé and Cargill were not held accountable for child labor in their supply chains, the Supreme Court upheld the precedent that corporate decisions are subject to international law.

In the early hours of March 29, an estimated sixty gunmen attacked two small military installations in Kafolo and Kolobougou, both located in Ivory Coast on the border with Burkina Faso. The assailants killed at least three soldiers and wounded others. While no group has claimed responsibility for the attack, the media is speculating credibly that the perpetrators were jihadis based in nearby Burkina Faso, where Islamist groups have been increasingly active. There have been attacks before in the same area. In 2020, "jihadis" killed fourteen soldiers and gendarmes, also near Kafolo. Nevertheless, concerns are growing that the latest attack is a sign that jihadi insurgents are expanding their reach, as they have in neighboring Mali and Burkina Faso. In some ways Ivory Coast is the largest and most important country in francophone West Africa. In the decades after independence in 1960, Ivory Coast was an economic powerhouse with wealth mostly based on agriculture, especially cocoa. It hosted the largest French expatriate community in West Africa. However, political instability after the death of long-time statesman/big man Félix Houphouët-Boigny resulted in coups and civil war, the latest round of which ended in 2011 and left the economy in shambles. Since then, under the technocratic President Alassane Ouattara, the country has largely recovered economically. (Ouattara was elected to a controversial third term in 2020.) Ivory Coast, linked by roads and railways with interior francophone countries, plays an outsized regional economic role. The country has long been an immigration magnet from the other West African francophone countries, which are much poorer. Nevertheless, even with renewed prosperity, remaining internal divisions provide an opening for jihadi groups. As elsewhere in West Africa, the south, centered on Abidjan, is predominantly Christian and much more prosperous than the north. In effect, the south dominates the country. The north is predominantly Islamic and many northern residents feel marginalized by a southern francophone elite that is predominantly Christian. Overlaying north-south differences are those between "indigenes" and immigrants from elsewhere in francophone West Africa, especially Burkina Faso. The indigenes are mostly Christian, the immigrants mostly Muslim. Hence, Ivory Coast in some ways resembles other African hotspots—such as Mali, Burkina Faso, Cameroon, northern Nigeria, Mozambique, Central African Republic, and Niger—where a marginalized Islamic population provides an opening for radical jihadism. However, Ivory Coast is far larger and economically more important that the others, with the exception of Nigeria. If jihadi radicalism acquires a foothold, the consequences will be dire for the West African region beyond just Ivory Coast.

Should U.S. companies be held responsible for child slavery on West African farms where cocoa beans are harvested? The top U.S. court’s decision could have major consequences for chocolate companies and global supply chains.

Early this month, President Alassane Ouattara of Côte d'Ivoire announced his intention to run for a third term, an undertaking that may not violate the letter of Ivorian law (presuming that the 2016 adoption of a new constitution establishing a two-term limit reset the clock on his tenure) but surely violates the intent of it. The 78-year-old Ouattara himself acknowledged how undesirable the undertaking is when in March he initially announced that he would not run but rather would “transfer power to a new generation,” throwing his support behind his close ally, Prime Minister Amadou Gon Coulibaly. When Coulibaly passed away on July 8, Ouattara and his advisors reversed course. The reaction thus far has been dispiriting. Demonstrations protesting Ouattara’s decision have, in some cases, turned violent, provoking expressions of concern from the UN Secretary General. His political opponents are prepared to challenge the legality of his third term bid. Meanwhile, regional leaders find themselves in an awkward situation. Having long relied on Ouattara as a regional statesman and champion of democratic institutions, they now face the possibility that his legitimacy will be marked with an asterisk in the future. Ouattara’s statements about this decision being a “duty” and a “sacrifice” suggest that, with the loss of Coulibaly, Ouattara believes that he is the only figure capable of holding his country together, and of ensuring that the hard-won gains of the past decade don’t slip away. Whatever the reasoning, that reads like a vote of no confidence in Côte d'Ivoire’s political class and a failure of political imagination. How is one to reconcile the idea that Côte d'Ivoire is a desirable investment opportunity if the country’s stability is so tenuous, if its voters and leaders are so untrustworthy? It is absolutely true that Ouattara has strong support within his party and that many elites and regular citizens had urged him to run. But that does not mean the decision is a wise one. Assuming, as seems likely, that he wins the October election, he will find building confidence in the country’s political process and addressing both the reality and perceptions of exclusion even more difficult than before. Yet those issues remain at the heart of the unfinished business that plunged Côte d'Ivoire into civil war in 2002 and 2010, and which still threatens the country’s future. The indispensable work on reconciliation and unification that was not done in Ouattara’s first two terms will have become both more urgent and more difficult.

Last weekend, as Americans pondered how our election cycle will proceed in the midst of the constraints and disruption necessitated by the coronavirus, the people of Guinea found themselves deciding whether or not to venture out and vote in a highly controversial referendum and legislative elections. Not even a pandemic could deter 82-year-old President Alpha Condé from his attempt to change Guinea’s constitution so that he would be eligible to stand for re-election later this year.   Beyond the public health risk, the conditions for the polling were not auspicious. The opposition and some civil society groups had called for a boycott. ECOWAS and the Organisation Internationale de la Francophonie (OIF) had raised concerns about the voter’s role. But Condé insisted on forging ahead, and the March 22 referendum was marred by violence that resulted in several deaths. Neither ECOWAS nor OIF nor AU observers participated, and voter turnout was reportedly low. The exercise served more to highlight the alarming governance trends in Guinea than to shore up the dubious legitimacy of a third term bid.  If the concerns expressed by his constituents and his neighbors fail to move Condé, perhaps the global appreciation being expressed for his neighbor in Côte d’Ivoire, President Alassane Ouattara, might influence his thinking. Ouattara’s March 5th announcement that he would not seek a third term in office was met with widespread relief, and was widely seen to be easing tensions and reducing the risk of violence accompanying elections slated for later this year. By stressing the importance of making space for a younger generation of leadership, Ouattara strengthened the case for moving past longstanding, toxic rivalries and burnished his own legacy at the same time.  It’s foolish to imagine that politics anywhere are paused, even as the streets of so many communities have gone eerily silent. The recent developments in Guinea and Côte d’Ivoire point to divergent paths in West African democracy, and to the high stakes around the exit strategies of the countries’ leaders.  

Several successive years of being one of the world’s fastest-growing economies have made Ivory Coast a darling of investors bullish about Africa. But the country’s strong economic performance has not been matched by political progress in overcoming the divides that have driven the country into civil war twice in the last twenty years. With elections scheduled for 2020, many of the same antagonists that featured in those earlier conflicts are jockeying for position, giving observers and citizens an unwelcome sense of déjà vu.  Current President Alassane Ouattara has stoked uncertainty as to whether he intends to step down or make the case that he is entitled to run for a third term. Henri Konan Bédié, who served as president from 1993 to 1999, is eyeing a return a power, and has allied with yet another former president, Laurent Gbagbo, to challenge the current ruling party. Gbagbo, whose refusal to acknowledge defeat in the election of 2010 tipped his country back into conflict, is still facing an appeal of his acquittal on war crimes charges at the International Criminal Court. Finally, Guillame Soro, formerly a leader of a rebel movement that fought Gbagbo's government, has also announced his intention to run for the presidency. Voters could be forgiven for feeling some cynicism as they watch the maneuvering of this cast of familiar characters, with their checkered histories and shifting alliances. For years, elites in Abidjan have been so eager to drive toward a more prosperous future that they have shown little interest in a genuine social reckoning with the past. All of the old triggers for conflict—frustration around presidential succession, questions of nationality, toxic regional divides, and agitation for generational change—persist in the current political climate. Layered atop the fact that Côte d'Ivoire’s growth has not been particularly inclusive, these flashpoints can be used to manipulate and mobilize struggling citizens. Friends of Côte d'Ivoire would be wise to make conflict prevention a top priority in the year ahead and to support the efforts of civil society to bolster the independence of the electoral commission and transparency around the democratic process. Finally, investors eager to build on current successes cannot pretend that political questions do not implicate their interests. They should use their voices—not to weigh in on decisions about leadership that belong to the Ivorian people—but to warn against stoking the fires of conflict and division.

Welcome to “Women Around the World: This Week,” a series that highlights noteworthy news related to women and U.S. foreign policy. This week’s post, covering July 22 to August 1, was compiled by Alexandra Bro, Mallory Matheson, and Rebecca Turkington.

The Democratic Republic of Congo, Afghanistan, and Egypt top the list of countries most likely to experience a new mass killing in 2018 or 2019, according to a new forecast. 

Conflict Armament Research, a UK organization that monitors armaments transfers and supply chains, has just published an important report, “Investigating Cross-Border Weapon Transfers in the Sahel.” The report was funded by the UK Foreign and Commonwealth Office, the European Union, and the German Foreign Office. It carries the normal disclaimer that it does not reflect “the positions of the UK Government, the European Union, or the German Federal Foreign Office.” More than fifty pages long, the report is thoroughly detailed. It is based on ten months of well-funded research with visits to Algeria, the Central African Republic, Chad, Lebanon, Libya, Mali, Niger, and Syria. The report confirms that a flow of weapons from Libyan dictator Qaddafi’s stockpiles after his fall played a major role in the Tuareg and Islamist insurgencies in Mali in 2012. That same stockpile supplied weapons systems that included man-portable air defense systems to insurgents throughout the Sahel region. But, the report documents that weapons flows since 2011 are no longer predominately from Libya. Instead, the weapons now come from African countries with weak control of their own weapons stockpiles, notably the Central African Republic and Ivory Coast. Sudan has also been an important source since 2015 of weapons used by insurgents in the Sahel. The report posits that the jihadist attacks in 2015 and 2016 on hotels and government installations specifically in Mali, Burkina Faso, and the Ivory Coast also included weapons from a common source in the Middle East, these Iraqi assault rifles and Chinese-manufactured weapons are also used by the Islamic State. Conflict Armament Research’s report does not address Nigeria or Boko Haram. During the period up to 2015 when Boko Haram was amassing territory in northeast Nigeria, there was speculation as to where it was getting its weapons. One hypothesis was that they were coming primarily from local stockpiles inadequately controlled by the Nigerian government. Conflict Armament Research’s report shows a pattern that lends credibility to that hypothesis.

Al-Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb (AQIM) and its affiliates launched an attack in Mali in November, one in Burkina Faso in January, and now in Ivory Coast over the past weekend. On March 16, Boko Haram attacked a mosque in Maiduguri, Nigeria, killing at least twenty-two people. The CFR’s Nigeria Security Tracker shows that Boko Haram has been associated with more than 150 deaths since January 1, 2016, but before the March 16 mosque attack. Even in Senegal, a genuine democracy where the opposition comes to power through elections, there is concern about signs of radical activity. There is no evidence of AQIM and Boko Haram tactical or strategic coordination; indeed, at least in rhetoric, they are mortal enemies, despite their common rhetoric. AQIM, like the broader al-Qaeda of which it is a part, is international in scope and violently hostile to the West. Its leadership appears to be Algerian. Boko Haram is focused on the destruction of the Nigerian state rather than war against the West. It appears to be centered in the Kanuri ethnic group, and while its rhetoric is hostile to the west, it has yet to attack western facilities or installations. Yet there do seem to be commonalities in the current wave of terrorism across West Africa. Burkina Faso, Mali, and Ivory Coast are post-civil war or post-coup states where France has played an important role in ending the most recent round of crises. All three states are internally divided with weak governance and marginalized population groups, despite successful elections (Mali, Ivory Coast) or coup failure (Burkina Faso). Nigeria faces an incipient insurrection in its oil patch, and Boko Haram has been seeking to destroy the secular government for almost seven years. Leadership certainly matters. Ivory Coast’s Allasane Ouattara, Nigeria’s Muhammadu Buhari, and Senegal’s Macky Sall have vision and are seeking to meet national challenges. But that takes time and resources, and the burden of recent history is heavy. Terrorism drives tourism and government revenue down in Mali, Ivory Coast, likely soon in Senegal. Nigerian government revenue has fallen with the decline in oil prices. Governments have less to work with than in the past, with the exception of Ivory Coast. AQIM and possibly the self-proclaimed Islamic State seem to be pushing into sub-Saharan Africa from North Africa. Both are under pressure in their North African areas of operation. Algeria, despite its present leadership issues, has a stronger military and better security services than those in West Africa and they have had some success against AQIM. In Libya, the international effort appears to be bringing pressure on the Islamic State. The response of both movements appears to be to push south, and possibly, to resolve some of their internal differences. Finally, recent terrorist attacks in Burkina Faso, Mali, Ivory Coast and Nigeria are all against soft targets. Beach resorts, hotels, and places of worship are easier to attack than police stations or army barracks, generate extensive carnage, and net international publicity. In those terms, the recent round has been remarkably successful.

This is a guest post by Claire Wilmot, an intern for the Council on Foreign Relations Africa Program. She is a master of global affairs candidate at the University of Toronto. Canada’s reputation as a country that offers safe resettlement to refugees is in sharp decline. From 1961 until the early 2000s, Canadian immigration policy welcomed both immigrants and refugees, particularly from sub-Saharan Africa. However, Stephen Harper’s conservative government has made it increasingly difficult for refugees to resettle in Canada over the past decade. Nevertheless, in the lead up to the October 19 federal elections, immigration policy has not been the subject of public debate and most candidates have remained relatively silent. The timing of Canada’s refugee restrictions couldn’t be worse—in June, the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) reported that the largest number of people ever recorded, around 60 million, were now displaced. Of these, over a quarter hail from sub-Saharan Africa. As highlighted by the Mediterranean refugee crisis, many are willing to take extreme risks to escape their countries of origin. In the past, Canada has been receptive to refugees fleeing crises in the Horn of Africa. Canadians originating from Somalia make up the largest percentage of immigrants and refugees of African origin, at 26 percent. Worldwide, the UNHCR estimates one million Somalis are now refugees, and 1.1 million are internally displaced. Half a million Horn of Africa refugees have fled conflict in South Sudan, and 1.3 million South Sudanese who are displaced internally. There are now 350,000 refugees fleeing violence and repression in Eritrea, out of a total population of just six million. Kenya and Ethiopia, both coping with their own challenges of internal displacement, economic decline, and poor infrastructure, are hosting the majority of the Horn’s refugees. The Canadian High Commission in Nairobi processes the majority of applications for Canadian refugee resettlement by people fleeing violence and persecution in East, Central, and the Horn of Africa. Given the severity of civil conflicts occurring across the region, notably in South Sudan and Somalia, this office should be one of the most efficient in terms of processing visas. Instead, wait times for refugees from these countries are triple those from other regions. The average wait time for an individual fleeing persecution in Eritrea, or ethnic violence in Sudan, or the civil conflict in Somalia can expect to wait approximately 3 years for processing, with no guarantee they will be granted refugee status. By comparison, those seeking refugee resettlement from all other regions wait an average of nineteen months. Right now, about 12,000 refugees are admitted to Canada per year, a number the UNHCR has said falls short of Canada’s capacity to absorb refugees. Its hospitality towards refugees has drastically diverged from 1986, when the UNHCR bestowed upon the Canadian people its highest honor for services in support of the forcibly displaced, the Nansen Refugee Award. Human rights observers have condemned new legislation couched in Bill C-51, Canada’s controversial “anti-terror” omnibus, which would ease the government’s ability to detain and deport refugees, and suspend eligibility for social services for several months after arrival. Canada is also one of the few countries that has adopted Australia’s draconian policy of indefinite detention for some refugees who have entered irregularly, which has been internationally criticized. Under the Harper government, Canada has turned its back on refugees fleeing civil conflict in Africa and elsewhere. For many Canadians, compassionate refugee policy is not only necessary given the scale of the world’s refugee crisis—it’s a question of Canadian identity. Yet, thus far, refugee and immigration policy hasn’t featured as an issue in the upcoming elections.

This is a guest post by Cheryl Strauss Einhorn, a journalist and adjunct professor at the Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism. Ivorian politics are colorful. Yet it may still surprise some that a court in the Ivory Coast sentenced former First Lady Simone Gbagbo to twenty years in prison for her role in the 2011 post-election violence even though prosecutors only requested ten years. The court convicted her of undermining state security, while the prosecution only charged her for disturbing public order. The hefty sentence comes after the government refused to honor an arrest warrant and transfer Gbagbo to the International Criminal Court (ICC). The government claimed that Gbagbo could receive a fair trial and that a foreign transfer could harm national reconciliation. In contrast the Ivorian government deported her husband, former President Laurent Gbagbo, to The Hague three years ago, where he awaits trial for crimes classified by the Court as “crimes against humanity.” Specifically, he is blamed for over 3,000 deaths that resulted from the civil war that erupted after he refused to accept electoral defeat by current President Alassane Ouattara. So did Simone Gbagbo receive a fair trial? The Ivorian court’s severe decree suggests otherwise. Courts are more likely to alter a judgment to make it more lenient than stringent, and rarely do courts convict beyond prosecution’s request. In fact, Human Rights Watch criticized the Ivorian government for refusing to send Gbagbo to the ICC saying the case was not carried out "in accordance with the standards of a fair trial." Why did the government think that she could get a fair trial in her home country when it did not believe that her husband could? After all Simone Gbagbo is a politician in her own right, president of the Parliamentary Group of the Ivorian Popular Front (FPI) and a celebrity figure with nicknames like the “Hillary Clinton of the Tropics” and the “Iron Lady” by her supporters, and the “Blood Lady,” by her opponents. She earned the epithets after co-founding the socialist FPI with Laurent in 1982 and joining parliament where she and her husband were fierce critics of “neo-colonialism,” once describing France’s Nicolas Sarkozy as “the devil.” But the current conviction suggests that she is more than a firebrand; she is someone capable of encouraging violence, having abetted her husband in silencing opponents of his regime. The government has not publicly explained its reasoning for keeping Gbagbo’s trial at home. Likewise it has not commented on the trial’s unusual outcome, nor must it since there is little evidence that the court’s activism is having a destabilizing effect on the security of the country just seven months before its next presidential election. Might Gbagbo’s incarceration increase the questions from her supporters about whether the trials against her and her husband are politically motivated? It’s possible since Gbagbo supporters say President Ouattara’s one-sided justice is evident, claiming he’s ignored abuses committed by some of his own supporters, who allegedly also contributed to election violence. In January, Ouattara mentioned the possibility of pardoning Simone Gbagbo, but nothing has come of it. Is her conviction evidence that no one is above the law, or might her sentence seem like retribution as justice?

Herman J. Cohen recently wrote an article for American Foreign Policy Interests discussing Africa’s “surrogate wars.” The revolt against Burkina Faso President Blaise Compaore and his departure from office under duress make this article essential reading. Cohen looks at the “insurgencies” in Liberia, Rwanda, and Cote d’Ivoire. He argues that the “insurgencies” were essentially surrogate wars waged by Compaore against Liberian President Samuel Doe using Charles Taylor as a proxy; by Uganda’s Yoweri Museveni against Rwanda using the Rwandan Patriotic Army (RPA) to “export” his domestic ethnic conflicts; and Compaore (again) against Cote d’Ivoire. All three wars have been humanitarian disasters, setting back development for decades, if not generations. Cohen argues that Africans ignore the “surrogate nature” of some “insurgencies,” and that the United States tends to follow their lead. Because the foreign sponsors of “insurgencies” remain clandestine, the African Union can regard them as civil conflicts requiring “conflict-resolution.” Sometimes, perpetrators even receive international praise for “resolving” the very conflicts that they have caused (Compaore in Cote d’Ivoire). Cohen concludes with the observation that the African Union has never seriously considered surrogate wars, and the perpetrators have not been called to account. Good riddance to Compaore! Herman J. Cohen was one of the most distinguished Africanists in public service. He was Ambassador to Senegal, with dual accreditation to the Gambia, from 1977-1980. Among his other positions, he was Assistant Secretary of State for Africa from 1989 to 1993. He was also Principal Deputy Assistant Secretary for Intelligence and Research, and served as senior director for Africa on the National security Council.      

The New York Times and other media are reporting a drop in Ebola infection rates and empty beds in the emergency field hospitals set up by the U.S. military in Monrovia. While there is Ebola all along the border between Liberia and Ivory Coast, Abidjan has not reported any cases. The World Health Organization has stated that Nigeria and Senegal are Ebola free. Perhaps even more important, no new Nigerian cases have been announced since the WHO’s declaration. Especially in Liberia, a public communications campaign on Ebola has taken off. But, it is too soon to break out the champagne. Dr. Bruce Aylward, MD, the WHO official in charge of the Ebola campaign, cautions that infection rates can oscillate, and that mishandled burials could “start a whole new transmission chain and the disease starts trending upward again,” according to the New York Times. He also noted that there is a case of Ebola in Mali, which up to now has been infection-free. According to Dr. Aylward, 13,703 people have been infected by Ebola, all but 27 in Liberia (where about half of the victims were found), Sierra Leone, and Guinea. The mortality rate is about 70 percent. Dr. Aylward’s caution is well placed. There is anecdotal evidence of families hiding Ebola victims from the authorities, of whom they are often deeply suspicious. The emergency field hospitals are mostly in Monrovia; Ebola established itself in rural areas first, many of which are nearly impenetrable because of the lack of roads and other infrastructure. There have been nine people in the United States diagnosed with Ebola, one has died and the others have recovered or have a good prognosis. The American experience may indicate that the horrific West African experience of Ebola is a reflection of a mostly non-existent public health system. Yet, an American hysteria about Ebola, in at least some places, seems unabated, with popular calls for draconian quarantine requirements and the severing of transportation links between the United States and West Africa.