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Natural resources
and the capture economy:
The case of Guinea and Senegal
University of Amsterdam Master’s of Urban and Regional Planning Rabiatou Bah – 12105856 June 10, 2019
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Contents
Introduction ... 2 Neoextractivism ... 4 Regulatory Capture ... 7 Research Design ... 11A West African Historical Overview: Guinea and Senegal ... 12
Pre-Colonial Years ... 13
Colonization: The French Expansion ... 14
Independence to Today ... 18
Post-colonial Strategies: Break vs. Reform ... 20
Beyond Independence: Embracing Co-operation ... 23
Case Study ... 25
Guinea ... 25
Regulations... 25
Policy in Practice ... 28
Senegal ... 30
Development Plan and Regulations ... 31
Policy in Practice ... 33
2 “Imperialism is a system of exploitation that occurs not only in the brutal form of those who come with guns to conquer territory. Imperialism often occurs in more subtle forms, a loan, food aid, blackmail. We are fighting this system that allows a handful of men on Earth to rule all of humanity.” - Thomas Sankara
Introduction
Development has been a topic riddled with contention given the dualistic classification of nations. Many countries of the Global South (GS) – which is also a dualistically loaded term when accounting for its opposite, the Global North (GN) – are considered underdeveloped or developing, suggesting that they are on a path to reach the ‘developed’ status. What is in question is the authorities that determined and normalized what a developed nation/society looks like and how it should be achieved. Development theory is based in capitalist logic, advancing that the human condition can only be improved through economic growth and more equitable distribution of profits (Canterbury, 2018). The advent of capitalism came at the hem of the slave mode of production and colonialism, the benefits of which were held by European powers (ibid.). The gains made from this economic system were made by forcibly taking ownership of lands and their people, an extreme version of what Marx (1906) terms as primitive accumulation1. By establishing this hierarchy, capitalism was able to flourish by expanding to these
‘peripheries’ which contributed slave labour to the forced labour of feudalism (Scott, 2011). While slavery was abolished around a century before most colonies became independent, their ensuing colonial status is what led to the global proliferation of capitalism. What makes this economic system different from its primitive accumulation and feudalism roots is the element of wage labour. However, slaves from colonies were not compensated for the work (lest they were allowed to live); it’s the element of surplus value2 that
is part and parcel of capitalism. Studying the evolution of Eurocentric/Western thought of land and labour ownership is crucial in understanding the current dynamics and forms of capitalism. Competition for capital, based on accumulation by dispossession (Harvey, 2005) and the commodification of nature, was kept between European powers, as evidenced by military conquests and negotiations such as the Scramble for Africa. The implication of this history for the current development classes is that countries did not have the same economic starting point. While it may not be of the same form today, capitalism is still based on dispossession, meaning that a hegemonic relationship must be maintained for the
1 Primitive in relation to capitalism ie. the historical process of dispossession that led to the capitalist mode of
production (Canterbury, 2018) (Marx, 1906)
2 Marxist conception entailing the gains from surplus (in contrast of what the worker needs to perform to
reproduce themselves – necessary labour) labour that goes into creating commodities that generate profit (Smith K. , 2017).
3 benefactors of this economic system to keep their position. It can be argued that the underdeveloped state that GS countries are left in, which were (some still are) European colonies, was due to this capitalist framework.
The post-colonial era, which may still be in development today, made way for the restructuring of old colonial and colonized states. Given that one of the major driving factors of colonization was natural resource extraction (extractivism), which was geared at increasing European wealth, an examination of its post-colonial status can be useful in determining how governmental/institutional relationships were (are being) rearticulated in the capitalist framework. Through this, the spatial dimension can be a point of focus; as extractivism is a land activity, it must therefore have important regulatory implications. Extractivism is a colonial mode of accumulation of natural resources for export (Acosta, 2013). The separation of labourers from their means of production through ownership agreements makes extractivism a capitalist endeavour, with the profits going to the colonizers. The contemporary version of extractivism is expressed as neoextractivism or new extractivism which presupposes a regulatory shift in the practice. This is defined as a development model where natural resource based economic growth is used by the state to address social issues (Canterbury, 2018). In theory, the main differentiation here is in the perceived decision-making power in how profits are redistributed; a shift away from primarily benefiting the Global North’s capitalist ventures to overcoming domestic problems. Neoextractivism is portrayed to be progressive and anti-neoliberal as its proponents stress the social benefits that it will provide. However, studies suggest that this seemingly progressive model is in actuality reproducing past ills as it is subservient to capitalist and neoliberal rules, thus giving way to extractive imperialism (ibid.) (Veltmeyer & Petras, 2014). The shift from colonialism to neo-imperialism can be observed in these market agreements that prey on the vulnerabilities of resource rich nations that have fragile institutions due to colonial consequences.
The illusion of domestic regulatory control in post-colonization is not unfounded; Memmi (1967) speaks of the colonized implicit desire to be like the colonizer due to years of conditioning. This may explain the tendency of ‘new’ models, that are intended to combat social ills, to reproduce or reformulate the same problems in an increasingly convoluted manner. Available studies put a great focus on the situation in Latin America and the Caribbean where this development model has emerged (Veltmeyer & Petras, 2014)(Canterbury, 2018). The practical problem in this case is then one of narrowness as there has not been enough research addressing the positions of other old colonial territories of the world. The
4 knowledge problem becomes two-fold: knowing more details about the development of neoextractivism, and how it operates in other parts of the globe (or if there is another articulation of or deviation from extractivism). This knowledge gap is the basis of motivation for this thesis. This paper seeks to investigate the relational problems of neoextractivism through the lens of regulatory capture, understood here as a hidden mechanism that facilitates imperialism and neo-colonialism through land-based policies. These policies are ‘captured’ through natural resources extraction concessions that affect domestic laws, especially in resource dependent counties (Rosa & Iootty, 2012). The concern for planning is based on the origins of the resources that fuel its activity (ie. capital, technology, skilled workforce, etc.) and the policies that constrain it. By combining critical and inductive approaches, this paper will look at Africa, and more specifically the West where there is a mix of successful and unsuccessful – in terms of the capitalist understanding of development – governance on natural resource extraction although its countries have similar colonial histories. This combination is important for the following studies that this paper hopes to inspire by clarifying institutional nuances that arose from the first years of flag independence. While this paper mostly focuses on regulatory capture exercised by the GN, trends of growing economies of the GS may also participate in capture. Increase in primary commodity exports are due to growing demand in some of these economies, therefore it would not be shocking if they had a stake in advocating for neoextractivism. China, for instance, has been forging ties with some African states under the pretext of supporting development. The author acknowledges that neoextractivism is not only destructive in terms of political sovereignty, but most importantly, in environmental sustainability as this is the origin from which various economic systems have emerged. This goes beyond the scope of this paper yet is important to acknowledge for its implications in post-growth narratives.
Neoextractivism
Born in protests of neoliberal policies, such as austerity measures due to accrued debt, old colonies have sought to regain sovereignty of their land through their natural resources. It is important to note that post-colonial demands of land ownership are reiterated, giving weight to the cyclical nature of capitalism (crisis-reform) (Canterbury, 2018). As indicated in the introduction, neoextractivism is a conception of progressive regimes in Latin America and the Caribbean. Defined as a post-neoliberal development model based on better national governance of the extractive industry, it aims to foster better social inclusion and invest in social programs (Veltmeyer & Petras, 2014) (Canterbury, 2018). The “post-neoliberal” claims are particularly stressed, and understandably so as the history of the region’s political economy illustrates.
5 Given that most Latin American and Carribean countries gained flag independence by the end of the 19th
century, available literature places the roots of the recent advent of neoextractivism in the region in the post-Great Depression period (Veltmeyer & Petras, 2014). This major collapse of the global market is indicative of the volatile nature of capitalism, which gave way to a new economic growth strategy by way of import-substitution industrialization (ISI) in peripheral states (ibid.). Designed as a strategy to reduce reliance on primary commodity exports, Latin American countries developed their industrial sector to produce previously imported goods (ibid.). This approach was short lived as new crises emerged in the form of overproduction, debt and fiscal failures, introducing a new reform to the capitalist cycle in the 80s: neoliberalism (ibid). Dissociation from the government and liberating markets from regulations was understood as the way forward for all economies. However, the neoliberal logic includes a hierarchy or parasite-host relationship which GS countries soon realized to their demise. In a bid to participate in this new global economic system, GS countries opened up their markets in their already fragile institutions relying on the promise of economic support for debt repayment and development by entities such as the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and the World Bank (ibid.). However, this led to the dismantling of the state led ISI initiative as production industries were not sophisticated enough to compete in the global market, forcing these countries to refocus most of their economies on natural resource exports (ibid.). This continued up until the end of the 1990s as neoliberal policies were not fruitful as promised, given way to another crisis period. The ‘neoliberal failure’ is highlighted by “unemployment due to job layoffs, retrenchment,…, joblessness, higher levels of poverty, declining economic growth, informalization, and the transfer of income from wage earners to profit seekers” (Canterbury, 2018, pp. 18-19) which is evidence of what is often called the ‘resource curse’. What this term suggest is that nations endowed with natural resources and heavily dependent on the profits made from their export, usually fare poorly economically, in part due the ‘Dutch disease’ effect that diverts resources away from the manufacturing sector (Rosa & Iootty, 2012). However, it is also theorized to be caused by weak or ineffective institutions – mostly found in developing countries – that do not have enough leverage in negotiations, resulting in unequitable deals; the capital providers and investors receive more than the ‘product’ bearers. Latin American countries recognised the hold that multinational corporations and other foreign entities had on their extractive sector – cashing in on agreements which were establish in more promising times – and sought to renegotiate the terms. The new millennium was then about getting another shot at independence, economically.
6 Neoextractivism can be understood as a reform to neoliberal reforms, both operating within the capitalist framework. The goal is to revise domestic policies in such a way that they reflect the public interest while also being operational in the global economy (Veltmeyer & Petras, 2014). This entails a post-neoliberal governance strategy where states negotiate better deals with mining and oil companies from which taxable rents will be used to finance social development, while also holding “the companies accountable for the environmental and social impacts of their operations” (ibid., p. 27). While the intentions the neoextractivism project are appropriate given the conditions neoliberalism left Latin American and Caribbean nations in, it does not address the actual practice of resource extraction, only the results. What it ignores and represses are the land struggles with rural and indigenous communities whose lands are being exploited for ‘the greater good’. With most of the population living and working in urban centres (ibid.), the implementation of the neoextractivist program is legitimized through its redistributive element that appeals to this social class (Canterbury, 2018).
In addition to foreign direct investments (FDIs) made in the 60s and 70s, Latin America received an inflow of foreign capital in the 90s as imposed by the Washington Consensus (Veltmeyer & Petras, 2014). This investment was not only substantial in monetary terms – 43% of US-based FDI for developing countries was received by Latin America (ibid., p.31) – but also in terms of space. As the demand for primary products grew with the rise of China (commodity boom of 2003), so did FDIs in the natural resource sector, resulting in a focus on acquiring land and other state assets (ibid.). The main extractive activities were in the mining sector, with countries competing for investment. This further motivates the push for the openness of governments, neoliberal or not, to foreign investment. For instance, between 2002-2004 “oil made up 83.4 per cent of Venezuela’s total exports” (ibid., p.257 note 14). The first decade of the new millennium was fraught with problematic economic decisions, even with growing movements towards the ‘new extractivism’ logic within these governments. The 90s saw US$100 billion being transferred from “Latin American to imperial centres of capital accumulation” (ibid., p.32) while in 2010 mineral exports were over US$2.4 billion (ibid). Even with a shift in governance where states got better deals in increasing their bottom line, what remains is that trans/multinational corporations are the greatest beneficiaries from this development structure. The anti-neoliberal sentiment that started at the end of the 90s was co-opted as globalized capitalism inculcated the notion that privatization and foreign cooperation were the most economically fruitful way forward. This is substantiated by the fact that proponents of neoextractivism are not only progressive, anti-neoliberal leaders but also those who once supported the structural reforms that took advantage of resource dependent nations. Donor groups advocate for
7 commodity-based development in developing countries, using growing global demand and consumption as a logical argument (ibid.). Studies by groups such as the Inter-American Development Bank deem this path as inevitable for resource rich regions that want to rise above their ‘tropical fatalism’ by way of orthodox and conservative economic policies, increasing civil society’s participation and investment in extractive projects and areas to reduce the risk of protests, and transparency by the local government (Acosta, 2013).
The political structure adopted by the extractive state is not of concern, only the policies and concessions pertaining to extractivism. The anti-neoliberal argument stands only as governments assert more regulatory say; however, these have proved to be in line with neoliberal terms. The irony of this is illustrated in key Latin American countries that have advocated for the neoextractivist shift: Argentina, Brazil, Chile, Ecuador, Bolivia and Venezuela. With an exception for Venezuela, all these countries have stayed with neoliberal policies, due to their dependence on foreign capital, undermining the social ticket on which they advanced neoextractivism. For example, the exploitation of oil and gas in Bolivia is controlled by twenty nine multinationals, even as the law was rewritten to declare ownership rights to citizens (Veltmeyer & Petras, 2014). The nationalist rhetoric of neoextractivism is then put in question: Is neoextractivism truly focused on improving living conditions, or is the capitalist motive prioritized even under anti-neoliberal claims?
Regulatory Capture
Acquisition of state-owned property such as banks and land by asset-seeking FDIs and other capital sources have at times been formulated through concession that saw profits come in long after the agreements were made (Veltmeyer & Petras, 2014). The institutional implication of the privatization of state (or public) assets begs a focused look at the actions or structures that enable this power grab. Based on the Latin American experience, the transfer of state ownership to private entities displays a neoliberal form of governance. However, all agreements come with details associated with laws and regulations prescribed by the state, theoretically. This is not always the case, especially in what Hellman et al. (2000) terms as ‘transition economies’3, used here to define states that are steering away from neoliberalism
towards nationalism through neoextractivism. By considering the colonial history of Latin America, the
3 The basis of both papers was the 1999 Business Environment and Enterprise Performance Survey (BEEPS) that
“was designed to assess the quality of governance across 20 countries of the Central and Eastern Europe and the former Soviet Union” (Hellman J. S., Jones, Kaufmann, & Schankerman, 2000) and “address obstacles in the business environment across 22 transition economies” (Hellman, Jones, & Kaufman, 2000).
8 transition is fraught with regulatory controls established since independence. This ability of wielding private and foreign influence in a government is a feature of state capture.
Defined as the ability of “firms to shape and influence the underlying rules of the game (ie. legislation, laws, rules, and decrees) through private payment to public officials)” (Hellman J. S., Jones, Kaufmann, & Schankerman, 2000, p. 3), it provides an explanation for a state’s loss of sovereignty. It also alludes to corruption which is indicative of a weak institutional framework. While this behaviour is assumed in the initial stages of the colonial setting, it is more hidden or convoluted in independent economies that were the stage of colonialism. These states are called ‘capture economies’ in the literature, characterized by their creation and enabling of markets based on the provision of public goods (such as land) to firms, giving them substantial private gains while negatively impacting the rest of the economy (Hellman, Jones, & Kaufman, 2000). This not only aligns with the Dutch disease effect that allowed primary commodities to have a significant share in certain economies, but it also speaks to the failures of ISI. While Hellman et al. analyse influence and corruption separately, both will be considered part of state capture in this research. The dimensions of this phenomenon are observed in the corporate or private share of state assets and are part of the motivation behind anti-neoliberal or progressive political movements. The governance problem that allows state capture to exist also comes in the form of regulatory capture, which is industry specific.
Regulatory capture in extractivism is made possible through large revenues made from naturals resource exports at the hands of rent-seeking elites which then allows them “to effectively purchase the content of laws and regulations and their enforcement” (Rosa & Iootty, 2012, p. 6). This elite class is made up of both national and foreign entities that use their influence – acquired politically and through legacy relationships – to satisfy their capitalistic interest. Dictating policy in transitioning economies plays an important role in the development path of a country. One of the major ways that a state inadvertently enables regulatory capture is in the exploitation of a government’s most pressing needs by interest groups (Laffont & Tirole, 1991). With social provisions having failed in the neoliberal restructuring era in Latin American, Caribbean and other post-colonial governments, the need to provide for the constituency is a priority. With this urgency, deals are made to improve the economic climate even if the share of the profits are inequitable. An important consequence of regulatory capture is the turn around of firms as regulation control “effectively restricts firm entry and exit” (Rosa & Iootty, 2012, p. 7). This is significant when considering debt repayments as they keep well intended governments at the mercy of their investors.
9 Furthermore, new firms that are able to participate in the asset bid may in actuality be associated to larger companies, thus reinforcing the monopolistic element of state capture (Hellman, Jones, & Kaufman, 2000). As high value state property is acquired by capital holders, the state institution is further weakened as it loses control over law regulation and enforcement. While it may be too simplistic to adopt the tropical fatalism logic to explain the institutional failures that give space for regulatory capture to exist, the transitional element of these ‘tropical’ countries is important4. Neoextractivism is a mode of reform that
has recently been (and may still be) formulated, the consequences of which are already observable. Regulatory capture provides a lens through which governments’ actions can be understood.
The literature shows that regulatory capture is not only at risk in colonial countries, however, this paper will study the implications of colonial history in the enabling of regulatory capture. The contemporary governance structure by which capture is able to operate will be theorized through neo-colonialism and imperialism. The rearticulating of subservient relationships of the past through independent governments were made possible with the liberalization of capital and globalization. Influence no longer needs to be commanded by international states but can also be wielded by the private sector as transnational corporations have demonstrated. The in-situ quality of colonialism and the ‘control from a distance’ aspect of imperialism then change based on what entity is reported back to.
Looking at neo-colonialism challenges the superficial quality of independence, judging it to be limited to the flag. Neoextractivism gives neo-colonialism an entrance through land as rent-seeking elites sell resource rich areas; companies shape both the spatial and regulatory makeup of the state that they establish themselves in. With the rising demand from BRIC (Brazil-Russia-India-China) countries, land grabbing becomes the new focus of extractive companies (Veltmeyer & Petras, 2014). The power imbalance is observed through the lack of responsibility on the part of neo-colonizers as they exploit the institutional weaknesses of the neo-colonies (Nkrumah, 1965). As mentioned, these agreements are made attractive when included in the development discourse. Foreign capital is supposed to improve the social conditions of states that were ravaged by colonialism, and for the case of neoextractivism, by neoliberalism. However, this aid often has different conditions attached such as “supplying information about their economies, submitting their policy plans to review by the World Bank and accepting agency supervision of their use of loans” (ibid., p.242-243). Neoextractivism can then be understood as back door
4 The simplicity is due to the existence of state and regulatory capture in European countries as well, outlined in
10 for neo-colonialism as it allows subtle acts of colonialism to be perpetuated under the guise of development (Nkrumah, 1965).While one cannot assume that this is the intention of capital holders once they enter the market – as their main concern may be to secure assets that can generate high profits – the results of these relationships are troubling in their social impact. Once this power is secured, elites may seek to maintain it indirectly.
Aid, paired with high interest rates for loan repayments, provides external forces with political power beyond the economy. In addition to the agreements made for specific projects, controlling the government in resource rich countries is an imperialistic activity. Regulatory capture defines this through the ‘purchase’ of local politicians. And again, under the development rhetoric, “imperialist states maintain control of raw materials in the periphery… [by sponsoring] political change through national elections and illegitimate methods including coups” (Canterbury, 2018, p. 24). The belief that success is based in capital accumulation has been globally proliferated to such an extent that leaders will sacrifice their own people to attain it. As such, resistance against these socially and environmentally destructive political manipulations have been violently crushed by the state, with their ‘clients’ often supporting them militarily (Harvey, 2005).
The need to reproduce and amass capital is the raison d’être of capitalism, which forces it to be diffused globally, thus requires more capital producing assets. Harvey’s concept of accumulation by dispossession describes the imperialist element that plays into the post-colonial capture of foreign resources. As mentioned, aid given to developing nations are provided as ‘helping hands’ to bring them out of crises, when these conditions were actually orchestrated to give GN powers access to necessary capital (ibid.). For instances, IMF austerity programmes devaluated products in the GS (see ISI failure) which boosted the economies of dominant countries who acquired their desired resources at a low cost (ibid.). Developing countries are given the impression that there are no alternatives than those presented by these global powers, even if this keeps them in a subservient position. Because it is no longer politically acceptable to directly dictate the constitution of another state, the imperial manoeuvres are concealed within capitalist endeavours enabled by the insatiable nature of capitalism. Not only does this economic system give reason for imperialism to be an acceptable tactic within its logic, it exacerbates its hegemonic structure by welcoming private actors. The weight of privatization is significant as it demonstrates how financial capital became more powerful than state control, creating a transnational capital class that pays “very little head to place-bound or national loyalties or traditions” (ibid., p. 187). This further undermines
11 the issues raised by class struggles centred on access to adequate welfare conditions from the state. With the state actively participating and allowing the repressive conditions of capitalism to be practiced, the opportunities for creating alternatives diminishes. Heavy privatization removes personal attachment to a problem through the uneven and unfair distribution of gains and losses.
Imperialism is also logical in the case of capturing natural resources as they are bound to specific geographies. Transitional territories that seek to participate in the global market may inadvertently or be forced to accept imperialist conditions. The institutional changes are made in line with the interests of the ‘directors’ of the global financial and capital market, who have normalized their position throughout history. This entails “rolling back regulatory frameworks designed to protect labour and the environment from degradation” and reversing “common property rights won through years of hard class struggle” (ibid., p. 148). While these changes were a part of the neoliberal turn, the neoextractivist logic does not deviate much, Bolivia being a case in point. Accumulation by dispossession can then be understood as a parasitic relational process where one party accumulates by taking the other’s possessions. The reproduction of this in ensured through regulatory capture as it thrives through the capital class which include capitalist (or corrupt) politicians. Harvey (2005) suggests that there can be positive gains to dispossession, however, the problem that neoextractivism highlights is that of institutional ability. Neoextractivism provides an interesting angle to the interactions between urban and regional planning, especially when the former is heavily influenced by the latter in this case. Studying the neo-colonialist and imperial conditions of regulatory capture provides a possible explanation to the self-imposed, but historically globally mandated, risks of neoextractivism.
Research Design
The guiding questions for the following research are:
What kind of procedures does planning assume in neoextractivism? To what extent does regulatory capture influence spatial planning in West Africa?
The research for the thesis is highly archival, employing strategies of historical analysis. This entails identifying key elements in the extraction industry that can be identified throughout history. Relationships between different actors will be the central elements in understanding what neoextractivism evolved from. A short study of neoextractivism in Latin America and the Caribbean was made to establish precedence for the case study. It is important to construct a historical basis, starting from the years leading
12 to independence until available current information. For this, two comparative cases will be used: Guinea and Senegal. Both countries were under French colonial rule by the end of the 19th century, with Guinea
gaining independence before all other French colonies in the West (BBC News, n.d.). The path to independence started with all countries defining their domestic policy while France still had control “over military and foreign affairs as well as economic planning” (ibid.). Guinea no longer wanted to retain ties with their colonizer which led it to reject an offer to be part of the French commonwealth, unlike its counterparts (ibid.). The significance of this decision may still be relevant today, as the repercussions on their economic stability influences political and social integrity. In addition to their differing stories of independence, Guinea and Senegal’s economies are based in the primary sector. With this base knowledge and with the understanding that independence entails self-determination, both countries can be assumed to be using the neoextractivist development framework. The success or failure of the neoextractivist logic can then be presumed to be rooted in politics (i.e. institutional quality as De Rosa and Iooty (2012) describe). The colonial conditions, not only French policy but levels of protest and hostility, will show correlations with current institutional conditions. A brief historical overview will provide the foundation to explain the way both countries have restructured their governments after independence until today. A focus will be put on the terms of natural resource extraction and the underlining motivations or requirements for defining them as such. Related policy documents and trade agreements will be used, as they will contain the indicators that will determine the weight of regulatory capture in this region. The dimensions that will be used to identify regulatory capture are those that are recurring and transmuted since colonial times: management roles in extractivist activities, extraction locations, companies involved, regulatory agreements between companies and countries, arguments justifying extraction, evidence of corruption and constitutional/regulatory changes throughout time. Based on the Latin American experience, it is hypothesized that there will be discrepancies in what is officially communicated and what is practiced on the ground.
A West African Historical Overview: Guinea and Senegal
Extractivism is understood as a mode of accumulation that began with the European “conquest and colonization of the Americas, Africa and Asia” (Acosta, 2013, p. 62). The recognition of this global project stemming from the emerging capitalist system has recently, as the above analysis shows, been limited to its development in Latin America. Understanding and validating neoextractivism necessitates a greater scope of information on the various mutations of extractivism. Looking at Africa contributes to this research while also breaking the monolithic perspective that the continent is often victim of. In a territory
13 as vast and diverse as Africa, outlining a complete overview of its rich and complex history is challenging. The varying traditions of communication and knowledge transmission leave much to be known and included in common world history. While it goes beyond the scope of this paper, identifying and recognizing events, places and peoples of the past provides more insight on the links that created the global relationships of today. The following section focuses on the history of French West Africa, more specifically that of today’s Guinea and Senegal. These two case countries were chosen based on their geographical proximity, similar colonial history, and diverging conditions for independence that are remarkable in understanding their current political climates. In addition to their differing stories of independence, Guinea and Senegal’s economies are based in the primary sector. Furthermore, as the largest European power in Africa during colonization it would be interesting to see how French power has shifted.
It is important to note that the following general overview cannot grasp all the socio-political nuances that influenced the development of old French colonies as this goes beyond the scope of this paper. Events pertaining to the management of natural resources and their relationship to land development are the focus of the overview. The final years of the transatlantic slave trade, a few years before colonization, will be the guiding start of the following historical timelines. What will be emphasized are the varying governing and social structures from that period to independence, and to the current leadership. Only when the borders of Guinea and Senegal are drawn, and when the conditions of this delineation are understood can the contemporary differentiations be identified. This approach will provide a basis from which institutional regulations for natural resource extraction could be understood, given the changes that defined the meaning and path of development.
Pre-Colonial Years
The Portuguese and Spanish are widely cited as the first Europeans to explore the West coast of Africa and the Americas in the 15th century (Inikori, 2013). This new trade route gave a boost to the already
thriving trade network and stimulated inter-regional specialization with regards to manufacturing and agriculture (ibid.). This is evidence by the quantity of cowries5 imported by Europeans, making up more
than 50% of imports into the Blight of Benin in the late 17th century, for instance (ibid.). Slaves started to
be part of the commodities exchanged to Europeans in the 16th century, which was heightened in the next
two centuries to support other developments. This is where the relationship between Africa and the
5 The cowrie shell imported from the Maldives was the form of currency used in West Africa for many centuries.
14 Americas becomes significant in their subsequent socioeconomic evolutions. When parts of the Americas were ‘discovered’ by the Spaniards, they found that it was easier to repress the Natives there, decimating their population to less than half of that of 1942 by 1850 (ibid.). With the subsequent participation of the English, French and Dutch in the slave trade from the 17th century, millions of African were shipped to fill
the labour void in the Americas, significantly reducing the West African population and degrading its trade and social structures. The high demand for captives, making up 91% of total Atlantic exports, led to violent conflicts in the region, thus ruining inter-regional trade (ibid.). Commodities were primarily being produced on plantations in the Americas, with Brazil’s export values being six times more than that of West Africa between the late 18th-early 19th century (ibid.). Extractivism was in full swing in Latin America
due to their colonization predating that of West Africa. The trans-Atlantic trade halted a prospering trade network that was sustained under different African empires by the removal of the labour force, creating damaging consequences. Evidence from the Gold Coast (Ghana), show that this trade led to deurbanization and demonetization of the economy as hardly any cowries were being imported by the late 17th-ealry 18th century (ibid.). Furthermore, enclave economies were created on the coastal regions
and direct hinterlands of West Africa, limiting the benefits of the trade to African leaders and ‘entrepreneurs’ (ibid.).
One may question why Africans allowed this market to be sustained for so long given the negative repercussions on their socioeconomic structures. No longer the main source of gold, West Africa in the 16th and 17th centuries may have seen a need to make an economic shift and increase its exportable goods
(including humans) to make up for the loss. The relationships forged between the leaders and representatives of the two continents from this trade, alongside that of African gold and European firearms, may have been a significant opening and prelude for what was to come. The abolition of slavery in Britain in 1807 could have been an opportunity to rebuild West African economies, however, with mounting competition among Europeans, this would not be the case. The civilizing missions, a guise for the control of sub-Saharan Africa’s natural resources to enrich European countries, motivated colonization.
Colonization: The French Expansion
With trade control and relationships ruined by the transatlantic slave trade, raw materials were once again up for grabs by new actors. The transition of power in the late 19th century from African to European
forces meant the upheaval of traditions both politically and economically. While trade recuperated after abolition, the drive for control was transferred to other commodities. The French were already present in
15 the West as early as 1659 on the coast of Senegal where they established the trade port of St. Louis (Ali-Dinar, n.d.). After losing control for over a century, the French regained and maintained power from 1817 (Newbury & Kanya-Forstner, 1969). The groundnut (peanut) was a growing commodity in the 1860s (Phimister, 1995) which was supplemented by other “raw materials like rubber, palm oil [and] cotton” (Sogoba, 2018, p. 23). As mentioned, coastal enclaves were the grounds for most commercial activities, with a loose French imperial structure that worked in tandem with African politics. There were extensive exchanges between the French government, its ministries and French leadership in West Africa that motivated the expansion project burgeoning in the 1870s. While Paris was reluctant to engage in military conquest due to a lack of funds, focusing more on trade and peaceful control, its representatives on the ground made plans for formal empire building (Newbury & Kanya-Forstner, 1969). Ironically, episodes of war and the Great Depression in 1873 led to the recalculation of French strategy in the ‘periphery’ as new ways of generating wealth were much needed (ibid.). Furthermore, French traders and merchants were already facing mounting competition in the vegetable oil trade and called for political action to monopolize the market (ibid.). These events indicated a shift in French policy where state and market concerns were synthesizing, leading to political control as the means for economic development (Newbury & Kanya-Forstner, 1969). Competition was intra-European, especially with British threat of capturing land that was weakly governed by the French, leading to Anglo-French agreements becoming obsolete by 1881 (ibid.). While governors in Senegal sometimes acted without permission, their efforts could not be ignored as public opinion and private commercial pressures mounted. The military prowess of European powers laid in its advanced technology that was well above those of the West African empires of the time, making forcefully conquest relatively easy and cheap (Phimister, 1995). The military push east-wards started as early as 1854 creating the official French West Africa (FWA) in 1895 (Huillery, 2014). Opposition still existed although it was repressed, as exemplified in 1898 by the defeat of Samory Touré’s Wassoulou empire, which made up most of south-east Guinea (Sogoba, 2018). The ‘Scramble for Africa’ that began in the 1880s was mostly led by active French expansionary policies, leading to the continent being 90% colonized by 191,4 with France dominating the West (Figure 1).
16
Figure 1- Map of Colonial West Africa (Sogoba, 2018)
This political move gave France an opportunity to reassert itself in the global economy through land generated wealth. While raw materials were already being extracted for trade under loose and scattered French rule, colonization expanded this practice, marking the beginning of extractivism in West Africa in 1910 (Huillery, 2014). This is further evidence by the methods in which this region was governed, which were ultimately intended to enrich France. Colonization is a clear mode of accumulation by dispossession as the land stewards were no longer its owners, now forced to relinquish their resources to the colonizer. Geographically, French territories were concentrated rather than scattered across the continent like their other European counterparts (Gunther, 1955) (Figure 1). This was useful for administrative and communication purposes as it did not require as much movement. On the production side, the heterogenous natural environment yielded more crops for trade, with coastal regions remaining wealthier due to the lower transportation costs (Tadei, 2014). Export crops included “peanuts, palm kernels and oil, cotton, cocoa, coffee, rubber and bananas…which account for 65% of the value of all exports” (ibid., p.13). Agriculture was the main mode of production, with mining being a minor activity (Tadei, 2014). As the colonial administration established itself, the extractivist strategy was fully deployed in the early 20th
17 agency in the productive sector (ibid.). The colonial policy was also socially intentional; Africans under French rule were given French citizenship, with the same rights and privileges, theoretically (Gunther, 1955). This was done to encourage assimilation into French culture in civilization, which was the goal, not eventual autonomy or self-determination (ibid.). Memmi (1967) analyzes this assimilation ‘act’ as a way to make the colonized feel accepted and maybe even equal to the colonizer, who successful and forcefully established himself as inherently better. This social hierarchy influences the power dynamics in the region and may leave a lingering legacy of inferiority in future engagements. Because West Africa was ‘advertised’ in Europe as being rich in varying raw resources, which is also historically proven through the pre-colonial trade empires6, French West Africa (FWA) was setup to be an extractive colony (Huillery,
2014).
The private sector increased its stake in government decisions due to its role in trade, thus influencing institutions in the colonies. Labour was an important determinant in the profits made from the extractive mode of production, therefore this is where changes were sought. For instance, trading companies lobbied the French government to establish trade monosponies7 and coercive labour institutions to
increase their profit (Tadei, 2014). The labour that Africans were subject to can be said to be wavering between slavery and wage labour (capitalism) as different institutions were enacted during colonial rule. Consequently, this negatively impacted the colonies’ economy as prices (and wages) were determined by the colonizer, which were much lower than those of the global market8. This reinforces the exploitative
point of extractivism which is aimed at benefiting a foreign entity through the economic demise of resource rich countries. The tragic irony however is that while raw material exports account for a large part of the colonies’ income, the imports to France were only a small portion of the GDP; great material and social losses for Africans at the expense of small economic gains for Europeans (ibid.). The French citizenship title that Africans were given then comes into question and highlights the false sense of belonging and choice. France’s efforts in enhancing their post-war political reputation and power, even with little economic gain, is also reinforced through these choices. Although the colonial situation presupposes full regulatory control, in terms of resource extraction, dictating the rules of commerce (which was one of the central reasons for colonization) diminishes the opportunities for economic
6 The Ghana and Mali Empires were important participants in the trans-Saharan trade largely due to their control
over gold sources in present day Senegal and Guinea (See p.47 Conrad, 2005 and p.10 Sogoba, 2018)
7 A monopsony is a market with only one buyer (Cambridge University Press, n.d.). This would mean the African
producers were forced to sell to only one entity thus eliminating competition that would have benefited them.
8 Tadei (2014) makes a comparative study between France-Africa and UK-US trade, the price difference being 10
18 determination and improvement. The poor institutional legacy that is suggested here will be further explored when looking at the independence era.
On the public side, one may expect to see significant investment allocated to the development of the colonies. As mentioned, this was not the intention of the French, which is reflected in the amount invested in different areas of the public sector. Because colonization entails settlement of the colonizer, most public works were focused on their needs. Compared to the profits made from resource extraction, investment in public works were small, however, infrastructure (roads, wells, bridges, harbours, railways, air transport) received the most support as would be expected due to transportation needs (ibid.) (Huillery, 2014). French planners used the économie de traite9 system which, in this case, entailed
capturing agricultural “production that could be channelled into exports in exchange of metropolitan products” (ibid., p.9). While labour in both the private and public10 sectors may have heavily relied on
coercion, the ‘success’ of the French colonial project also relied on active participation of Africans (Huillery, 2014).
Consequently, an important method that sought to reinforce ‘Frenchness’ was the political structure established in FWA. The French National Assembly had representatives from each of its African territories, as well as a Grand Council in FWA “whose small legislative power was heavily weighted to the French advantage” (Gunther, 1955, p. 861). These structures can be understood as mere relics of the French system as they do not give any real power to the elected African politicians. The example of Léopold Sédar Senghor, a deputy for Senegal in the National Assembly who helped draft the French Constitution in 1946, demonstrates how efforts and abilities of the ‘educated’ African are used to benefit his ‘superior’ (ibid.). However, Senghor, like many other West African leaders (see Kwame Nkrumah of Ghana), saw the rearticulating of subordination in this strategy and called for more freedom (ibid.). Sentiments of liberation and self determination grew in this post World War Two period, marking the beginning of the paths to independence.
Independence to Today
Various indicators pointed to the eventual liberation of European territories around the world; mounting conflict with colonial authorities and nationalist movements in the colonies inspired steadfastness to the cause (Smith & Jespesen, 2017). However, bottom-up initiatives by the disenfranchised people were not
9 This was a system used in the colonial period where colonial investments where used to leverage control of
agricultural commerce (Badouin, 1967).
19 the only efforts or calls to change. Based on the losses from the war, European planners saw the costs of maintain an empire outweighing the economic benefits generated from the natural resources and market profits in the colonies (ibid.). For the French, the political power and image that it worked to build during the ‘scramble’ era could no longer be maintained, which forced it to revaluate its diplomatic strategies. This called for more legislative flexibility in the colonies, opening the doors for more African participation in governance.
An extensive set of reforms were implemented in from 1945-1957 by the French as they saw changes in their own governmental structure. The Brazaville Conference of 1944 ushered in these changes, aimed at a peaceful transfer or reconfiguration of power, which included the extension of French citizenship and freedom of assembly and association to Africans (Fage, Roberts, & Oliver, 1986). While the policy of assimilation was still operational, Africans were able to form their own political organizations thus increasing the weight of their political voice. There were now three levels at which Africans could be represented: locally through the election of mayors, municipal councillors and local assembly members; at the territorial level in the Grands Conseils of French West Africa; and at the metropolitan/French level in the French parliament, the French National Assembly, the Assembly of the French Union and in the Economic Council (ibid.). The inclusive turn of the post-war period was clear, given the developmental turn that the colonial project was taking.
The new strategy that European powers were taking was a different take of the civilizing mission of old; they sought to use financial and technical aid to “deliver material improvements to both European and colonial societies” (Smith & Jespesen, 2017, p. 6). This was echoed by the 1948 United Nations Universal Declaration of Human Rights, thus putting into focus the humanitarian aspect of development (ibid.). Conversation, contestation and negotiations of various actors and at different levels was to be expected. The push to abandon assimilation and engage in discourses of self-government was becoming prominent in the 1950s, with elected African officials using their position to leverage the necessary changes. With additional pressure from African political parties, trade unions and youth movement, decrees of separate territorial autonomy were implemented in 1957 which gave limited legislative powers to African s (ibid.). Self-government entailed control over public needs (health, education, urbanisation, etc.) and land (with a limit over mineral rights), with limitations over finance, defence and foreign relations which were still under French authority (Fage, Roberts, & Oliver, 1986). It is important to notice that these limitations were strategic as it did not give Africans control over their economy, which was mainly land based, due to the potential of increased mineral extraction. Furthermore, it kept Africans tethered and dependent to
20 the French through remaining political associations. Building off of the momentum garnered in the 1940s, the following three years would change the French-African relationship through the Fifth Republic’s 1958 referendum. Africans were finally offered a choice to either stay associated to France or break off all ties; a vote of “’oui’ meant accepting the status of an autonomous Republic in the new French Community and being assured of continued French aid [while] ‘non’ meant and end to all French economic, technical and administrative aid” (ibid., p. 623). This put African leaders in a difficult position given that independence was the goal, yet the reality was that the French colonial legacy was successful in reinforcing its paternalistic role, as was intended. Guinea was the only country to vote ‘non’ in 1958, although all 14 French territories were politically independent by 1960 (Fage, Roberts, & Oliver, 1986). The implications of the staggered independence and the ensuing institutional conditions are at the root of the following Guinea-Senegal comparison.
Post-colonial Strategies: Break vs. Reform
The colonial experience at the hands of the French was not meant to set foundations for eventual independence. While Africans in the colonies rallied to this end, once it arrived, adapting to the changes and assuming new responsibilities was a challenge. In Guinea, Sekou Touré, the socialist who successfully won the ‘non’ vote and the presidency, experienced this early departure in an abrupt way. The withdrawal of French manpower left Guinea with a “weak modern infrastructure and a severely underdeveloped economy [exemplified by] a poorly organised agricultural system” (ibid., p.642). The French political institutions that were left lost their meaning due Touré’s strong anti-colonial and anti-French rhetoric, forcing his government to seek for necessary support elsewhere. What saved the politically weak nation was its natural resources; private foreign investment from the United States, and communist countries helped develop the mining industry, especially iron and bauxite (Fage, Roberts, & Oliver, 1986). While this gave Guinea an economic base, it was heavily reliant on foreign investment, which was exacerbated by Touré’s policies that discouraged local agriculture and commerce (ibid.). Furthermore, the growing trend of authoritarianism in newly independent countries, despite their democratic aspirations, led to an uneven distribution of wealth. A hierarchy was created where political elites received high wages and expensive privileges at the demise of African peasants, which were the main producers (ibid.). This indicates the first instances of collusion in post-independence as African government officials gain more from increased investment. In Guinea, the reformulation of extractivist policies may have begun given its high reliance on its natural resources and decreasing domestic competition in other economic sectors. These features, as assessed by De Rosa and Iootty (2012), are indicators of poor long run economic performance especially in an unstable institutional structure. The early establishment of private firms and
21 other foreign investment entities also prefigures greater tendency for states to be influenced by them (Hellman, Jones, & Kaufman, 2000).
Both Guinean and Senegalese founding fathers shared similar ideologies, but their approach were different, which is reflected in their long- and short-term decisions. Where Touré took a definitive break from France, Senghor decided to take an incremental and reformative approach towards and within independence. As indicated by his participation in French politics, Senghor had a better relationship with France given Senegal’s early contact with the Europeans. Citizens of the country had a higher degree of politicization in comparison to Guinea, with constituents merging the French bureaucratic system within their cultural traditions (Fage, Roberts, & Oliver, 1986). Independence in 1960 still had an important economic toll on Senegal. Poor groundnut exports, which were no longer being subsidized by France, and a large trade deficit also pushed Senegal to welcome other investment (ibid.). The French legacy was mostly kept in the transportation networks and communication systems directed at the coast, which was followed by economic and population migrations (ibid.). This relocation of the population looking for better economic opportunities put pressure on the urban zones. To alleviate this stress, Senghor “received aid from international organisations to improve rural areas” (ibid., p.656). An exponential urban growth was experienced by many West African capitals (Fage, Roberts, & Oliver, 1986), unsurprisingly for those on the coast like Dakar and Conakry whose colonial history established an infrastructure based on an extensive commercial network. The Senghor government was able to garner aid that went beyond the development of natural resources, which already gives it an edge over Guinea. However, it also exposes the country to the same risks of regulatory capture depending on the type and level of aid. Figures 2 and 3 show the share of exports in both countries in the years marking the end of both leaderships. Even though Senegal still had a strong economic relationship with France11, it later received more investment
from Germany, the United States and Japan (ibid.). There was also evidence of intra-African investment, such as Nigeria that grew from oil discoveries, and South Africa (ibid.). The diversity of participants in the newly open markets of West Africa ushered in a shift in the international economy, especially with growing interest and need for natural resources. Institutionally, Senegal could be judged to stand stronger than Guinea which could be because it received more, and earlier European settlement as reflected by its openness (or lower degree of hostility) to the French and continued moderate political attitude post independence. Huillery’s (2014) study of the long-term conditions of colonies and the success of some
11 In 1974 Senegal directed 51% of its exports to France, importing 41% (see Table 12.6 in Fage, Roberts, & Oliver,
22 over others is predicated on this combination of settlement and capital investment, which Senegal saw to a greater degree than Guinea. The following section will study if her conclusions match up with the current political conditions of the two countries, emphasizing the effects on spatial planning.
Figure 2 - Guinean Exports in 1984 (Massachusetts Institute of Technology, n.d.)
23
Beyond Independence: Embracing Co-operation
After years of unrest under authoritarian and military rule, Guinea elected Alpha Condé in 201012 in the
country’s first democratic election since independence (Smith D. , 2012). However, the democratic turn was still riddled with division and controversy given the ethnic clashes, which went beyond party differences13. Given the unstable legacy that his government inherited, Condé’s platform was centered on
creating conditions for investment, especially in the mining sector (ibid.). Guinea is the world’s largest source and producer of bauxite (which is used to make aluminum), yet it has not capitalised on the resource due to poor governance, leaving more than half of the population living in poverty (ibid.) (Sillah, 2010). This change in leadership was to be an opportunity for institutional and social change. Despite these hopes, the political structure was still vulnerable to negative influences. For instance, the anti-corruption NGO Global Witness reported that Sable Mining allegedly backed Condé’s campaign in exchange for iron mining permits of Mount Nimba (Global Witness, n.d.) (Samb, 2016). Additionally, his presidency was put into question in 2016 with bribery allegations; Rio-Tinto, an Anglo-Australian mining company, admitted to paying $10.5 million to a close adviser of the president to “win mining rights over the Simandou project, regarded as one of the world’s largest untapped iron ore deposits” (Perelman, 2016). While these two controversies are not directly linked to Condé, they illustrate the difficulties in monitoring and regulating official activities in the country. The Guinean president tried to keep to his word of working towards ‘cleaning up’ the country’s mining sector by re-examining the mining code and existing contracts, which he has done by stripping BGSR’s supposedly fraudulent rights to Simandou prior to Rio Tinto’s attempt at acquiring it (ibid.). However, official documents were also prone to corruption; in 2016 the Gabonese consultant, Samuel Mebiane, was charged for bribery of various African officials, which is illustrated by his involvement in rewriting the Guinean mining code to secure mining concessions on behalf of the American hedge fund Och-Ziff (Stevenson, 2016). The drama surrounding Guinea’s mineral resources makes it difficult to judge the effectiveness of Condé’s government, and demonstrates the level of contention between different actors. With an understandable focus on this sector of the economy, other areas of legislation take a backseat, which may undermine their integrity.
The political atmosphere in Senegal was much different. Macky Sall became the 4th president in 2012,
continuing the legacy of peaceful power transitions in the ‘exemplary’ country (Nossiter, 2012). The
12 Condé is currently fulfilling his second term since being re-elected in 2015 (Agence France-Presse, 2015). 13 Condé represents the Malinké while his opponent, Cellou Dalein Diallo, represented the Peul (Sillah, 2010).
Condé’s win was controversial given the stark difference between the results; he received 18% in the first round and 52.2% in the second round (ibid.) (Samb, Alpha Conde wins Guinea vote, 2010).
24 commitment to fairness was highlighted during these elections as his victory rose above his predecessor’s unconstitutional attempt at winning a third term (ibid.). Already, the institutional stability of the country at a national level fairs better that that of Guinea’s, which may be due to the population’s unifying push for change. The voice of the youth was especially prominent as they rallied under the Y’en a Marre (Fed Up) banner and supported Sall’s platform, which included reducing presidential terms and creating more jobs (Holloway, 2019). Also part of his government reform, is the reduction of inefficient state spending and deterring corruption by cutting salaries of public officials by more than half, and creating the Office national anticorruption (National Anti-Corruption Office) (Carayol, 2012). Interestingly, these type of actions were not only expected by citizens but also by the International Monetary Fund (ibid.). Sall was proactive in seeking financial support for state projects not long after he entered office. Consequently, developing more and better international relations was an important part of his intentions as president, leading him to seek support from France through a 130 million euro loan from Sarkozy’s government (Dubruelh, 2012). Furthermore, he was able to raise around $7.8 billion from investors, including the World Bank, French Development Agency, the Islamic Development Bank and China, for a 10 year development plan which “aims to boost output from agriculture, fisheries and agro-industry, as well as the mining sector and tourism” (Irish, 2014). Sall’s ability to garner such support is telling of the good relationships and impressions that Senegal has sustained since independence, especially with France. His presidency has, however, been criticized amidst his recent re-election. Even though he delivered on some of his developmental promises, Sall is accused of election-rigging by launching investigations against opposition candidates causing some to either be imprisoned or disqualified (Barry J. Y., 2019) (France 24, 2019). Furthermore, the unemployment rate for 15 to 34-year-olds is 60%, which is substantial given that the 70% of the population is under 30 (Holloway, 2019). What this may mean is that domestic production in important sectors of the economy have not seen enough investment or that the economy has not diversified enough. During Abdoulaye Wade’s presidency, most of the country’s food was imported, preferring to invest in infrastructure, even though most of the population worked in agriculture (Nossiter, 2012). Although Sall’s development plan aims to address this discrepancy, around 46% of the amassed funds were intended to finance infrastructure projects (Irish, 2014). This allocation of funds is like French investments in colonial times that were geared at transporting extracted goods. While it is important to develop connectivity, what is most important for citizens is how it benefits them and improves their conditions. For the Senegalese case, the biggest area of scrutiny will be how national aspirations pair with conditions behind financial support from foreign donors. Years of general political stability may be telling
25 of the country’s ability to honour popular interests, yet it is still lagging in deploying systems that could develop and sustain better living conditions.
Case Study
Guinea
As stated, improving the management of natural resources was at the top of Condé’s political agenda when he first entered office. Guinea takes a public-private approach to the development of the mining industry with many projects involving different actors. Consequently, this sector is intended to be managed transparently and is open to foreign advising and investment (Samb, 2016) (Smith D. , 2012). Former British Prime Minister Tony Blair and American billionaire and philanthropist George Soros were the two main supporters of Condé’s reformative government. Blair helped in attracting foreign investment and Soros was consulting on the revision of the mining code to include sanctions on bribery, and to increase the state’s stake of mining projects from 15% to 33% (Smith D. , 2012) (Samb, 2011). These efforts indicate his subscription to the capitalist approach in addressing the irony of Guineans “living in such abject poverty in the midst of plentiful resources” (Sillah, 2010). The neoextractivist tone is also apparent given that Condé wants to get a better deal from mining companies, assuming that the intention is for the state to use these profits to fund social development.
The Guinean government structure is highly centralised, which could be worrisome for the integrity of democracy and true political reform given centralised regimes of past. While there were local elections in February 2018, the first since 200514 (VOA Afrique, 2018), it is assumed that decisions are mostly top
down. For this reason, policy documents at the national level will be used in the following analysis. The mining sector is managed by the Ministry of Mines and Geology, from which the Mining Code, the Investment Code and the Land Code will be analyzed. The 2016-2020 Economic and Social Development Plan (ESDP) formulated by the Ministry of Planning and International Cooperation will also be explored.
Regulations
Condé’s aspirations were made official in some of the country’s most important policy documents. The mining code boasts many points addressing taxation, permit concessions and corruption15. For the case
14 46% of the electorate did not vote during the local elections, with the RPG (Rassemblement du Peuple
Guinéen/Rally of the Guinean People),Condé’s party, winning the majority of council seats (VOA Afrique, 2018) (Barry D. , 2018).
26 of social improvement, regulations pertaining to community development and the allocation of amassed funds from extractive activities are of particular interest. Article 130 stipulates that “a holder of a Mining Operation Permit must enter into a Local Development Agreement (LDA) with the Local Community residing on or in the vicinity of its Mining Operation Permit” (Republic of Guinea, 2011, p. 106). This agreement, which is supported in part by a financial contribution from the permit holder, is meant to “strengthen the capacities of Local Community in the planning and implementation of the community development program” (ibid.). The inclusion of this section demonstrates an awareness on the part of the government as to the social opportunities that mining could bring. Furthermore, Articles 107 and 108 set conditions that favor and encourage the participation of Guinean companies for the supply of goods and services, and for employment. In the case where companies need occupied land, Articles 124 and 125 make clear that owners are to be compensated (Republic of Guinea, 2011). However, by stating that the State could impose consent on the landowner (ibid.), it suggests that all land is considered eminent domain thus reducing the power of public choice. This issue of public land rights is also brought up in Article 97 of the Land Code which defines the natural public domain. This section specifies what natural spaces are considered public, and while the list is not exhaustive, it is interesting how land, other than forests, are not included (Republic of Guinea, n.d.). The imposition of the government on behalf of the private sector is then justified. With the push towards increasing mining revenues, large tracks of land are being relinquished to this sector, as illustrated by Figures 4 and 5. With such a high economic reliance on mining, Guinea, like Peru in 201116, is forced to make these concessions to support its economy
(Veltmeyer & Petras, 2014).
16 Ollanta Humala’s government rejected, through military action, local and Indigenous opposition to a US$4.8
27
Figure 4 - 2016 Map of Bauxite Mining Permits (Republic of Guinea, n.d.)
Figure 5 – 2016 Map of Iron Ore Mining Permits (Republic of Guinea, n.d.)
On the topic of state revenue, the Mining Code (2011) has set the percentages and terms of ownership in Article 150 and 176. Through these, the Guinean government can own up to 15% “in the capital of the company holding the Title” (ibid., p. 120) and collect “tax on Industrial and Commercial Profits or
