|
Commentary
Africa in the Age of Globalisation
If, like winter, globalisation is inevitable, then what does it mean for Africa? The common opinion is that the effects of globalisation on Africa are pernicious because the continent is not prepared economically to compete on the world market. The free flow of goods and finance and the breaking down of barriers to trade work to the detriment of countries that are weak economically, unstable politically and crippled by poverty. It follows from this view that Africa needs to be protected from the full force of globalisation if it is to survive the cold winds blowing from the north. This commentary will show that this interpretation is both a-historical and analytically inaccurate. The reality is far more complex and points to an active, if perhaps less than cheering role for Africa in today’s globalised world.
The idea that people now live in a markedly more globalised world derives from the perception of two distinct but self-reinforcing processes. The first is that economic activity is increasingly global, with multinational corporations operating at will in an ever larger number of countries, as seems economically advantageous. Financial markets too are demonstrably more international. The second is that, following the end of communism in the former Soviet bloc, it now appears that there is presently only one viable political template: western-style multiparty democracy. Since communication has also undergone a revolution in the recent past, making the rapid spread of a worldwide western-influenced culture possible, the impression is readily formed that globalisation is now effectively sweeping the planet.
A little caution is in order here. Globalisation is at once less new and less radical than is imagined. If the speed of communication and financial transactions has increased significantly in the recent past, the international reach of business and industry is hardly modern. Nor is the spread of ideas, religion, culture and innovation — a process as ancient as the rise and fall of civilisations across the globe. Equally, the claim that the failure of socialism means the triumph of western politics is historically naive. Although no one doubts that capitalism is thriving in democratic polities, democracy is not a prerequisite, but a consequence of flourishing economic development and the rise of more self-confident middle classes. Finally, the notion that globalisation is erasing borders and homogenising identities throughout the world is not borne out by the facts. What is happening instead is a complex process of ‘flow’ and ‘closure’, that is the concomitant eradication and erection of cultural boundaries. Music may instantly travel the world but, at the same time, there are newly invented expressions of cultural parochialism resisting globalisation everywhere.
Africa’s predicament is well-known: economic crisis, political instability and social strife. But what is the connection between globalisation and Africa’s present precariousness? The most prevalent view is that the continent suffers from acute underdevelopment — that is the absence of sustained economic growth — because of the combined effects of the colonial legacy and its vulnerability in the contemporary world system. It is the weakness of their economies that is seen as the source of the political and social problems afflicting African countries today. Moreover, there seems little prospect that the application of structural adjustment programmes (SAPs) will enable them to build a competitive advantage on the world market, as the price of the primary products they sell will perforce fall if they increase production. Finally, since most African countries do not enjoy the political climate, the institutional stability, the legal framework, or the quality of labour required by multinational concerns, foreign capital is not forthcoming. As trade declines and investment shrinks, Africa becomes the victim of globalisation.
But is this actually what is happening? The reality is more intricate and, perhaps, less edifying. When colonial rule ended, Ghana stood on the same economic level, assessed by standard economic indicators, as South Korea. Today, the gap between the two is enormous: the former is poorer than it was when it became independent, while the latter is on the verge of becoming a full member of the advanced industrialised world. How can one account for such a divergent evolution? There are, of course, some obvious differences that were advantageous to the Asian country: a more efficient administration, a better educated and more disciplined workforce, friendly financial support by the United States, and a long tradition of thrift and investment. Nevertheless, Ghana was a comparatively favoured African nation at independence, with a properly functioning state, a decent educational system, an adequate transport, communication and social infrastructure and, crucially, substantial economic resources, including cocoa and gold.
Can the contrast between the two countries really be explained by their place in the world market and the effects of globalisation? The economic decline of Ghana, replicated in virtually all other African countries (with the notable exception of diamond-rich Botswana), was triggered in the mid-1970s by the dual effect of the increase in the price of oil and the fall in the value of its main agricultural export. But the impact of these economic difficulties, which also affected countries outside Africa, was devastating on the continent because it struck a severe blow at the political edifice that had been constructed by Africa’s new political élite. The decrease in financial resources available to the state undermined African rulers and induced a competition for power that was nefarious to development. Why?
The reason is that, after independence, the political system that emerged in Africa was neo-patrimonial — that is, based on vertical links of patronage between the political élite and their client constituencies. Contemporary politics in Africa is best understood as the exercise of patrimonial power. What this means in concrete terms is that, despite the formal political structures in place, power transits essentially through the informal sector. Or rather, it is in the interplay between the formal and the informal that the kernel of politics is to be found on the continent. This form of governance, often dubbed neo-patrimonialism, rests on well-understood, if unequal, political reciprocity that links patrons with their clients across vertical social lines. The operation of political institutions is thus largely influenced by the pressures applied upon them by the exercise of personalised power. Public officials, for instance, are not primarily seen as the impartial custodians of public service, but as links in the patrimonial chain that connects patrons with their clients.
In a neo-patrimonial system, political accountability rests on the extent to which patrons are able to meet the expectations of their followers according to well-established norms of reciprocity. The quest for political legitimacy thus requires the fulfilment of particularistic obligations that have nothing to do with the emergence of a public sphere transcending infra-national identities. Elections, the measure of accountability in western polities, have become one of the many instruments of factional mobilisation in Africa. Political representation, in other words, is seen to occur when patrons meet their obligations in respect of their clients.
Although such a neo-patrimonial system worked well in many countries after independence, it was inherently unstable. First, the situation of relative economic well-being — useful colonial assets and stable export prices — was shattered by the world economic crisis in the 1970s. As revenues declined and debt increased, African patrons began to run out of means. In a situation where the search for resources became ever more difficult, political competition increased. Since access to government assets is paramount in the African neo-patrimonial system, struggles for power intensified. Second, the neo-patrimonial system was essentially inimical to economic development as it took place in the west, or later in Asia. This is because it failed to foster and, in many ways, totally undermined economic growth — the prime basis for sustainable development. Political legitimacy was based on the maintenance of a situation in which patrons simultaneously had to uphold the image of substance required by their station and to feed the networks on which their position depended. Thus, they could scarcely defer consumption for the longer term purpose of national economic growth. For this reason, African states as well as entrepreneurs rarely invested in economically productive activities.
The manner in which power is understood and exercised helps to explain why politics in contemporary Africa diverges from that of the west, or Asia for that matter. Briefly, the state in Africa is not much more than a relatively vacuous shell, useful in so far as it permits the control of the resources which it commands, but politically feeble because it is neither institutionalised nor functionally differentiated from society. Similarly, there is no self-standing civil society because vertical ties remain infinitely more significant than horizontal (professional or functional) links. Finally, the African political élite behave according to the norms of political legitimation and representation inherent in the neo-patrimonial system. They use their official position to fulfil their unofficial obligations to their clients and to meet the demands on which their power and standing as rulers rest.
But there is a paradox in Africa today. Although the continent is in acute economic crisis and poverty is rampant, its (present and past) political élite have accumulated vast wealth. It is estimated that the riches stashed away in foreign banks (most notably in Switzerland) are roughly equal to the continent’s total foreign debt — a staggering statistic if it is true. Moreover, it is also known that a number of African rulers (like Charles Taylor and, until recently, Laurent Kabila) continue to amass fortunes despite the total collapse of the countries over which they preside. How can such wealth be generated in such conditions?
The present condition of the continent can be described as enrichment without development — a notion which goes against the habitual understanding of economic theory. The reason why such a state of affairs is possible arises from three main factors. The first is that there are huge mineral and natural resources in Africa, which are traded — legally or illegally — by those who hold power. The proceeds from such commerce are partially or totally diverted into the hands of the political élite or of the warlords who control the area. The second is that SAPs, despite the original intention to allow the market to be emancipated from the clutches of the state, have served to buttress the position of the political elite, since they have delivered huge financial resources into their hands. The final and most controversial reason is that an increasing number of politicians are heavily involved in illicit financial and commercial transactions — from money-laundering (as was documented in the case of the infamous Bank of Credit and Commerce International) to drug-smuggling.
Africa is thus not simply the victim of globalisation. Its élite are active participants in the informal world market, the underside of the globalised economy that appears to be passing the continent by. Admittedly, those millions of Africans who are not beneficiaries of the patrimonial largesse dispensed by the ‘political-business’ élite of the continent are growing more destitute by the year. Admittedly too, the wealth that transits through Africa is not serving to spur any form of sustained economic development. But for those who are now thriving on the global informal economy and their clients, enrichment without development is a most profitable situation. In the end, therefore, Africa’s present condition must be analysed from the dual perspective of its place in the formal and informal world market. Only then can the true impact of globalisation on the continent be assessed.
|
|
|