Executive Summary

Two-thirds of Americans have broadband Internet access in their homes.[1] But because of poor infrastructure or high prices, the remaining third of Americans do not. In some areas, broadband Internet is plainly unavailable because of inadequate infrastructure: More than 14 million Americans – approximately 5 percent of the total population – live in areas where terrestrial (as opposed to mobile) fixed broadband connectivity is unavailable.[2] The effects of insufficient infrastructure development have contributed to racial and cultural disparities in broadband access; for example, terrestrial broadband is available to only 10 percent of residents on tribal lands.[3]

Even where terrestrial broadband connectivity is available, however, the high price of broadband service can be prohibitive, especially to lower income Americans. While 93 percent of adults earning more than $75,000 per year are wired for broadband at home, the terrestrial broadband adoption rate is only 40 percent among adults earning less than $20,000 annually.[4] These costs also contribute to racial disparities; almost 70 percent of whites have adopted terrestrial broadband at home,   but only 59 percent of blacks and 49 percent of Hispanics have done the same.[5]

America's wireless infrastructure is better developed, but many Americans still lack wireless broadband coverage. According to a recent study, 3G wireless networks cover a good portion of the country, including 98 percent of the United States population,[6] but certain states have dramatically lower coverage rates than others. For example, only 71 percent of West Virginia's population is covered by a 3G network.[7] Wireless providers will likely use existing 3G infrastructure to enable the impending transition to 4G networks.[8] Unless wireless infrastructure expands quickly, those Americans that remain unconnected may be left behind.

Though America is responsible for the invention and development of Internet technology, the United States has fallen behind competing nations on a variety of important indicators, including broadband adoption rate and price. According to the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development's survey of 31 developed nations, the United States is ranked fourteenth in broadband penetration rate (i.e. the number of subscribers per 100 inhabitants); only 27.1 percent of Americans have adopted wired broadband subscriptions, compared to 37.8 percent of residents of the Netherlands.[9]

America also trails in ensuring the affordability of broadband service. The average price for a medium-speed (2.5Mbps-10Mbps) Internet plan in America is the seventeenth lowest among its competitor nations. For a medium-speed plan, the average American must pay $38 per month, while an average subscriber in Japan (ranked first) pays only $22 for a connection of the same quality.[10]

The National Broadband Plan (NBP), drafted by the Federal Communication Commission and released in 2010, seeks to provide all Americans with affordable broadband Internet access.[11] Doing so will not be cheap; analysts project that developing the infrastructure necessary for full broadband penetration will require $24 billion in subsidies and spending.[12] President Obama’s stimulus package has already set aside $4.9 billion to develop broadband infrastructure,[13] and some small ongoing federal programs receive an annual appropriation to promote broadband penetration.[14] However, these funding streams will only account for one-third of the $24 billion necessary to achieve the FCC's goal of full broadband penetration.[15] Moreover, developing infrastructure alone is not enough; many low-income Americans are unable to afford Internet access, even if it is offered in their locality.

To close this funding gap and to make broadband more accessible, the National Broadband Plan proposes to transform the Universal Service Fund – a subsidy program that spends $8.7 billion every year to develop infrastructure and improve affordability for telephone service – into a program that would do the same for broadband Internet.

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Introduction

It was 2025 when Facebook decided to post live feeds from public and private surveillance cameras, so they could be searched online. The decision hardly came as a surprise. Ever since Facebook passed the 500 million-member mark in 2010, it found increasing consumer demand for applications that allowed users to access surveillance cameras with publicly accessible IP addresses. (Initially, live feeds to cameras on Mexican beaches were especially popular.) But in the mid-2020s, popular demand for live surveillance camera feeds were joined by demands from the U.S. government that an open circuit television network would be invaluable in tracking potential terrorists. As a result, Facebook decided to link the public and private camera networks, post them live online, and store the video feeds without restrictions on distributed servers in the digital cloud.

Once the new open circuit system went live, anyone in the world could log onto the Internet, select a particular street view on Facebook maps and zoom in on a particular individual. Anyone could then back click on that individual to retrace her steps since she left the house in the morning or forward click on her to see where she was headed in the future. Using Facebook’s integrated face recognition app, users could click on a stranger walking down any street in the world, plug her image into the Facebook database to identify her by name, and then follow her movements from door-to-door. Since cameras were virtually ubiquitous in public and commercial spaces, the result was the possibility of ubiquitous identification and surveillance of all citizens virtually anywhere in the world—and by anyone. In an enthusiastic launch, Mark Zuckerberg dubbed the new 24/7 ubiquitous surveillance system “Open Planet.”

Open Planet is not a technological fantasy. Most of the architecture for implementing it already exists, and it would be a simple enough task for Facebook or Google, if the companies chose, to get the system up and running: face recognition is already plausible, storage is increasing exponentially; and the only limitation is the coverage and scope of the existing cameras, which are growing by the day. Indeed, at a legal Futures Conference at Stanford in 2007, Andrew McLaughlin, then the head of public policy at Google, said he expected Google to get requests to put linked surveillance networks live and online within the decade. How, he, asked the audience of scholars and technologists, should Google respond?

If “Open Planet” went live, would it violate the Constitution? The answer is that it might not under Supreme Court doctrine as it now exists—at least not if it were a purely-private affair, run by private companies alone and without government involvement. Both the First Amendment, which protects free speech, and the Fourth Amendment, which prohibits unreasonable searches and seizures, only restrict actions by the government. On the other hand, if the government directed Open Planet’s creation or used it to track citizens on government-owned, as well as private-sector, cameras, perhaps Facebook might be viewed as the equivalent of a state actor, and therefore restricted by the Constitution.

At the time of the framing of the Constitution, a far less intrusive invasion of privacy – namely, the warrantless search of private homes and desk drawers for seditious papers – was considered the paradigmatic case of an unreasonable and unconstitutional invasion of privacy. The fact that 24/7 ubiquitous surveillance may not violate the Constitution today suggests the challenge of translating the framers’ values into a world in which Google and Facebook now have far more power over the privacy and free speech of most citizens than any King, president, or Supreme Court justice. In this essay, I will examine four different areas where the era of Facebook and Google will challenge our existing ideas about constitutional protections for free speech and privacy: ubiquitous surveillance with GPS devices and online surveillance cameras; airport body scanners; embarrassing Facebook photos and the problem of digital forgetting; and controversial YouTube videos. In each area, I will suggest, preserving constitutional values requires a different balance of legal and technological solutions, combined with political mobilization that leads to changes in social norms.

Let’s start with Open Planet, and imagine sufficient government involvement to make the courts plausibly consider Facebook’s program the equivalent of state action. Imagine also that the Supreme Court in 2025 were unsettled by Open Planet and inclined to strike it down. A series of other doctrines might bar judicial intervention. The Court has come close to saying that we have no legitimate expectations of privacy in public places, at least when the surveillance technologies in question are in general public use by ordinary members of the public.[1]  As mobile camera technology becomes ubiquitous, the Court might hold that the government is entitled to have access to the same linked camera system that ordinary members of the public have become accustomed to browsing. Moreover, the Court has said that we have no expectation of privacy in data that we voluntarily surrender to third parties.[2] In cases where digital images are captured on cameras owned by third parties and stored in the digital cloud—that is, on distributed third party servers--we have less privacy than citizens took for granted at the time of the American founding. And although the founders expected a degree of anonymity in public, that expectation would be defeated by the possibility of 24/7 surveillance on Facebook.

The doctrinal seeds of a judicial response to Open Planet, however, do exist. A Supreme Court inclined to strike down ubiquitous surveillance might draw on recent cases involving decisions by the police to place a GPS tracking device on the car of a suspect without a warrant, tracking his movements 24/7. The Supreme Court has not yet decided whether prolonged surveillance, in the form of “dragnet-type law enforcement practices” violates the Constitution.[3] Three federal circuits have held that the use of a GPS tracking device to monitor someone’s movements in a car over a prolonged period is not a search because we have no expectations of privacy in our public movements.[4] But in a visionary opinion in 2010, Judge Douglas Ginsburg of the U.S. Court of Appeals disagreed. Prolonged surveillance is a search, he recognized, because no reasonable person expects that his movements will be continuously monitored from door to door; all of us have a reasonable expectation of privacy in the “whole” of our movements in public. [5] Ginsburg and his colleagues struck down the warrantless GPS surveillance of a suspect that lasted 24 hours a day for nearly a month on the grounds that prolonged, ubiquitous tracking of citizen’s movements in public is constitutionally unreasonable. “Unlike one’s movements during a single journey, the whole of one’s movements over the course of a month is not actually exposed to the public because the likelihood anyone will observe all those movements is effectively nil,” Ginsburg wrote. Moreover, “That whole reveals more – sometimes a great deal more – than does the sum of its parts.”[6] Like the “mosaic theory” invoked by the government in national security cases, Ginsburg concluded that “Prolonged surveillance reveals types of information not revealed by short-term surveillance, such as what a person does repeatedly, what he does not do, and what he does ensemble.  These types of information can each reveal more about a person than does any individual trip viewed in isolation.”[7] Ginsburg understood that 24/7 ubiquitous surveillance differs from more limited tracking not just in degree but in kind – it looks more like virtual stalking than a legitimate investigation – and therefore is an unreasonable search of the person.

Because prolonged surveillance on “Open Planet” potentially reveals far more about each of us than 24/7 GPS tracking does, providing real time images of all our actions, rather than simply tracking the movements of our cars, it could also be struck down as an unreasonable search of our persons. And if the Supreme Court struck down Open Planet on Fourth Amendment grounds, it might be influenced by the state regulations of GPS surveillance that Ginsburg found persuasive, or by Congressional attempts to regulate Facebook or other forms of 24/7 surveillance, such as the Geolocational Privacy and Surveillance Act proposed by Sen. Ron Wyden (D-OR) that would require officers to get a warrant before electronically tracking cell phones or cars.[8]

The Supreme Court in 2025 might also conceivably choose to strike down Open Planet on more expansive grounds, relying not just on the Fourth Amendment, but on the right to autonomy recognized in cases like Casey v. Planned Parenthood and Lawrence v. Texas. The right to privacy cases, beginning with Griswold v. Connecticut and culminating in Roe v. Wade and Lawrence, are often viewed as cases about sexual autonomy, but in Casey and Lawrence, Justice Anthony Kennedy recognized a far more sweeping principle of personal autonomy that might well protect individuals from totalizing forms of ubiquitous surveillance. Imagine an opinion written in 2025 by Justice Kennedy, still ruling the Court and the country at the age of 89. “In our tradition the State is not omnipresent in the home. And there are other spheres of our lives and existence, outside the home, where the State should not be a dominant presence,” Kennedy wrote in Lawrence. “Freedom extends beyond spatial bounds. Liberty presumes an autonomy of self that includes freedom of thought, belief, expression, and certain intimate conduct.”[9] Kennedy’s vision of an “autonomy of self” that depends on preventing the state from becoming a “dominant presence” in public as well as private places might well be invoked to prevent the state from participating in a ubiquitous surveillance system that prevents citizens from defining themselves and expressing their individual identities. Just as citizens in the Soviet Union were inhibited from expressing and defining themselves by ubiquitous KGB surveillance, Kennedy might hold, the possibility of ubiquitous surveillance on “Open Planet” also violates the right to autonomy, even if the cameras in question are owned by the private sector, as well as the state, and a private corporation provides the platform for their monitoring.  Nevertheless, the fact that the system is administered by Facebook, rather than the Government, might be an obstacle to a constitutional ruling along these lines. And if Kennedy (or his successor) struck down “Open Planet” with a sweeping vision of personal autonomy that didn’t coincide with the actual values of a majority of citizens in 2025, the decision could be the Roe of virtual surveillance, provoking backlashes from those who don’t want the Supreme Court imposing its values on a divided nation.

Would the Supreme Court, in fact, strike down “Open Planet” in 2025? If the past is any guide, the answer may depend on whether the public, in 2025, views 24/7 ubiquitous surveillance as invasive and unreasonable, or whether citizens have become so used to ubiquitous surveillance on and off the web, in virtual space and real space, that the public demands “Open Planet” rather than protesting against it. I don’t mean to suggest that the Court actually reads the polls. But in the age of Google and Facebook, technologies that thoughtfully balance privacy with free expression and other values have tended to be adopted only when companies see their markets as demanding some kind of privacy protection, or when engaged constituencies have mobilized in protest against poorly designed architectures and demanded better ones, helping to create a social consensus that the invasive designs are unreasonable.

The paradigmatic case of the kind of political mobilization on behalf of constitutional values that I have in mind is presented by my second case: the choice between the naked machine and the blob machine in airport security screening. In 2002, officials at Orlando International airport first began testing the millimeter wave body scanners that are currently at the center of a national uproar. The designers of the scanners at Pacific Northwest Laboratories offered U.S. officials a choice: naked machines or blob machines? The same researchers had developed both technologies, and both were equally effective at identifying contraband. But, as their nicknames suggest, the former displays graphic images of the human body, while the latter scrambles the images into a non-humiliating blob.[10]

Since both versions of the scanners promise the same degree of security, any sane attempt to balance privacy and safety would seem to favor the blob machines over the naked machines. And that’s what European governments chose. Most European airport authorities have declined to adopt body scanners at all, because of persuasive evidence that they’re not effective at detecting low-density contraband such as the chemical powder PETN that the trouser bomber concealed in his underwear on Christmas day, 2009. But the handful of European airports that have adopted body scanners, such as Schiphol airport in Amsterdam, have opted for a version of the blob machine. This is in part due to the efforts of European privacy commissioners, such as Germany’s Peter Schaar, who have emphasized the importance of designing body scanners in ways that protect privacy.

The U.S. Department of Homeland Security made a very different choice. It deployed the naked body scanners without any opportunity for public comment—then appeared surprised by the backlash. Remarkably, however, the backlash was effective. After a nationwide protest inspired by the Patrick Henry of the anti-Naked Machines movement, a traveler who memorably exclaimed “Don’t Touch my Junk,” President Obama called on the TSA to go back to the drawing board. And a few months after authorizing the intrusive pat downs, in February 2011, the TSA announced that it would begin testing, on a pilot basis, versions of the very same blob machines that the agency had rejected nearly a decade earlier. According to the latest version, to be tested in Las Vegas and Washington, D.C, the TSA will install software filters on its body scanner machines that detects potential threat items and indicates their location on a generic, blob like outline of each passenger that will appear on a monitor attached to the machine. Passengers without suspicious items will be cleared as “OK,” those with suspicious items will be taken aside for additional screening. The remote rooms in which TSA agents view images of the naked body will be eliminated. According to news reports, TSA began testing the filtering software in the fall of 2010 – precisely when the protests against the naked machines went viral. If the filtering software is implemented across the country, converting naked machines into blob machines, the political victory for privacy will be striking.

Of course, it’s possible that courts might strike down the naked machines as unreasonable and unconstitutional, even without the political protests. In a 1983 opinion upholding searches by drug-sniffing dogs, Justice Sandra Day O’Connor recognized that a search is most likely to be considered constitutionally reasonable if it is very effective at discovering contraband without revealing innocent but embarrassing information.[11] The backscatter machines seem, under O'Connor's view, to be the antithesis of a reasonable search: They reveal a great deal of innocent but embarrassing information and are remarkably ineffective at revealing low-density contraband.

It’s true that the government gets great deference in airports and at the borders, where routine border searches don’t require heightened suspicion. But the Court has held that non-routine border searches, such as body cavity or strip searches, do require a degree of individual suspicion.  And although the Supreme Court hasn't evaluated airport screening technology, lower courts have emphasized, as the U.S. Court of Appeals for the 9th Circuit ruled in 2007, that "a particular airport security screening search is constitutionally reasonable provided that it 'is no more extensive nor intensive than necessary, in the light of current technology, to detect the presence of weapons or explosives.'"[12]

It’s arguable that since the naked machines are neither effective nor minimally intrusive – that is, because they might be designed with blob machine like filters that promise just as much security while also protecting privacy – that courts might strike them down. As a practical matter, however, both lower courts and the Supreme Court seem far more likely to strike down strip searches that have inspired widespread public opposition – such as the strip search of a high school girl wrongly accused of carrying drugs, which the Supreme Court invalidated by a vote of 8-1,[13] then they are of searches that, despite the protests of a mobilized minority, the majority of the public appears to accept.

The tentative victory of the blob machines over the naked machines, if it materializes, provides a model for successful attempts to balance privacy and security: government can be pressured into striking a reasonable balance between privacy and security by a mobilized minority of the public when the privacy costs of a particular technology are dramatic, visible, widely distributed, and people experience the invasions personally as a kind of loss of control over the conditions of their own exposure.

But can we be mobilized to demand a similarly reasonable balance when the threats to privacy come not from the government but from private corporations and when those responsible for exposing too much personal information about us are none other than ourselves? When it comes to invasions of privacy by fellow citizens, rather than by the government, we are in the realm not of autonomy but of dignity and decency. (Autonomy preserves a sphere of immunity from government intrusion in our lives; dignity protects the norms of social respect that we accord to each other.) And since dignity is a socially constructed value, it’s unlikely to be preserved by judges--or by private corporations--in the face of the expressed preferences of citizens who are less concerned about dignity than exposure.

This is the subject of our third case, which involves a challenge that, in big and small ways, is confronting millions of people around the globe: how best to live our lives in a world where the Internet records everything and forgets nothing—where every online photo, status update, Twitter post and blog entry by and about us can be stored forever.[14] Consider the case of Stacy Snyder. Four years ago, Snyder, then a 25-year-old teacher in training at Conestoga Valley High School in Lancaster, Pa., posted a photo on her MySpace page that showed her at a party wearing a pirate hat and drinking from a plastic cup, with the caption “Drunken Pirate.” After discovering the page, her supervisor at the high school told her the photo was “unprofessional,” and the dean of Millersville University School of Education, where Snyder was enrolled, said she was promoting drinking in virtual view of her under-age students. As a result, days before Snyder’s scheduled graduation, the university denied her a teaching degree. Snyder sued, arguing that the university had violated her First Amendment rights by penalizing her for her (perfectly legal) after-hours behavior. But in 2008, a federal district judge rejected the claim, saying that because Snyder was a public employee whose photo didn’t relate to matters of public concern, her “Drunken Pirate” post was not protected speech.[15]

When historians of the future look back on the perils of the early digital age, Stacy Snyder may well be an icon. With Web sites like LOL Facebook Moments, which collects and shares embarrassing personal revelations from Facebook users, ill-advised photos and online chatter are coming back to haunt people months or years after the fact.

Technological advances, of course, have often presented new threats to privacy. In 1890, in perhaps the most famous article on privacy ever written, Samuel Warren and Louis Brandeis complained that because of new technology — like the Kodak camera and the tabloid press — “gossip is no longer the resource of the idle and of the vicious but has become a trade.”[16] But the mild society gossip of the Gilded Age pales before the volume of revelations contained in the photos, video and chatter on social-media sites and elsewhere across the Internet. Facebook, which surpassed MySpace in 2008 as the largest social-networking site, now has more than 500 million members, or 22 percent of all Internet users, who spend more than 500 billion minutes a month on the site. Facebook users share more than 25 billion pieces of content each month (including news stories, blog posts and photos), and the average user creates 70 pieces of content a month.

Today, as in Brandeis’s day, the value threatened by gossip on the Internet – whether posted by us our by others – is dignity. (Brandeis called it an offense against honor.) But American law has never been good at regulating offenses against dignity – especially when regulations would clash with other values, such as protections for free speech. And indeed, the most ambitious proposals in Europe to create new legal rights to escape your past on the Internet are very hard to reconcile with the American free speech tradition.

The cautionary tale here is Argentina, which has dramatically expanded the liability of search engines like Google and Yahoo for offensive photographs that harm someone’s reputation. Recently, an Argentinean judge held Google and Yahoo liable for causing “moral harm” and violating the privacy of Virginia Da Cunha, a pop star, by indexing pictures of her that were linked to erotic content. The ruling against Google and Yahoo was overturned on appeal in August, but there are at least 130 similar cases pending in Argentina to force search engines to remove or block offensive content. In the U.S., search engines are protected by the Communications Decency Act, which immunizes Internet service providers from hosting content posted by third parties. But as liability against search engines expands abroad, it will seriously curtain free speech:  Yahoo says that the only way to comply with injunctions about is to block all sites that refer to a particular plaintiff.[17]

In Europe, recent proposals to create a legally enforceable right to escape your past have come from the French. The French data commissioner, Alex Turc, who has proposed a right to oblivion – namely a right to escape your past on the Internet. The details are fuzzy, but it appears that the proposal would rely on an international body – say a commission of forgetfulness – to evaluate particular take down requests and order Google and Facebook to remove content that, in the view of commissioners, violated an individuals’ dignitary rights.

From an American perspective, the very intrusiveness of this proposal is enough to make it implausible: how could we rely on bureaucrats to protect our dignity in cases where we have failed to protect it on our own? Europeans, who have less of a free speech tradition and far more of a tradition of allowing people to remove photographs taken and posted against their will, will be more sympathetic to the proposal. But from the perspective of most American courts and companies, giving people the right selectively to delete their pasts from public discourse would pose unacceptably great threats to free speech.

A far more promising solution to the problem of forgetting on the Internet is technological. And there are already small-scale privacy apps that offer disappearing data. An app called TigerText allows text-message senders to set a time limit from one minute to 30 days, after which the text disappears from the company’s servers, on which it is stored, and therefore, from the senders’ and recipients’ phones. (The founder of TigerText, Jeffrey Evans, has said he chose the name before the scandal involving Tiger Woods’s supposed texts to a mistress.)[18]

Expiration dates could be implemented more broadly in various ways. Researchers at the University of Washington, for example, are developing a technology called Vanish that makes electronic data “self-destruct” after a specified period of time. Instead of relying on Google, Facebook or Hotmail to delete the data that is stored “in the cloud” — in other words, on their distributed servers — Vanish encrypts the data and then “shatters” the encryption key. To read the data, your computer has to put the pieces of the key back together, but they “erode” or “rust” as time passes, and after a certain point the document can no longer be read. The technology doesn’t promise perfect control — you can’t stop someone from copying your photos or Facebook chats during the period in which they are not encrypted. But as Vanish improves, it could bring us much closer to a world where our data don’t linger forever.

Facebook, if it wanted to, could implement expiration dates on its own platform, making our data disappear after, say, three days or three months unless a user specified that he wanted it to linger forever. It might be a more welcome option for Facebook to encourage the development of Vanish-style apps that would allow individual users who are concerned about privacy to make their own data disappear without imposing the default on all Facebook users.

So far, however, Zuckerberg, Facebook’s C.E.O., has been moving in the opposite direction — toward transparency, rather than privacy. In defending Facebook’s recent decision to make the default for profile information about friends and relationship status public, Zuckerberg told the founder of the publication TechCrunch that Facebook had an obligation to reflect “current social norms” that favored exposure over privacy. “People have really gotten comfortable not only sharing more information and different kinds but more openly and with more people, and that social norm is just something that has evolved over time,” [19] he said.

It’s true that a German company, X-Pire, recently announced the launch of a Facebook app that will allow users automatically to erase designated photos. Using electronic keys that expire after short periods of time, and obtained by solving a Captcha, or graphic that requires users to type in a fixed number combinations, the application ensures that once the time stamp on the photo has expired, the key disappears.[20] X-Pire is a model for a sensible, blob-machine-like solution to the problem of digital forgetting. But unless Facebook builds X-Pire-like apps into its platform – an unlikely outcome given its commercial interests – a majority of Facebook users are unlikely to seek out disappearing data options until it’s too late. X-Pire, therefore, may remain for the foreseeable future a technological solution to a grave privacy problem—but a solution that doesn’t have an obvious market.

The courts, in my view, are better equipped to regulate offenses against autonomy, such as 24/7 surveillance on Facebook, than offenses against dignity, such as drunken Facebook pictures that never go away. But that regulation in both cases will likely turn on evolving social norms whose contours in twenty years are hard to predict.

Finally, let’s consider one last example of the challenge of preserving constitutional values in the age of Facebook and Google, an example that concerns not privacy but free speech.[21]

At the moment, the person who arguably has more power than any other to determine who may speak and who may be heard around the globe isn’t a king, president or Supreme Court justice. She is Nicole Wong, the deputy general counsel of Google, and her colleagues call her “The Decider.” It is Wong who decides what controversial user-generated content goes down or stays up on YouTube and other applications owned by Google, including Blogger, the blog site; Picasa, the photo-sharing site; and Orkut, the social networking site. Wong and her colleagues also oversee Google’s search engine: they decide what controversial material does and doesn’t appear on the local search engines that Google maintains in many countries in the world, as well as on Google.com. As a result, Wong and her colleagues arguably have more influence over the contours of online expression than anyone else on the planet.

At the moment, Wong seems to be exercising that responsibility with sensitivity to the values of free speech. Google and Yahoo can be held liable outside the United States for indexing or directing users to content after having been notified that it was illegal in a foreign country. In the United States, by contrast, Internet service providers are protected from most lawsuits involving having hosted or linked to illegal user-generated content. As a consequence of these differing standards, Google has considerably less flexibility overseas than it does in the United States about content on its sites, and its “information must be free” ethos is being tested abroad.

For example, on the German and French default Google search engines, Google.de and Google.fr, you can’t find Holocaust-denial sites that can be found on Google.com, because Holocaust denial is illegal in Germany and France. Broadly, Google has decided to comply with governmental requests to take down links on its national search engines to material that clearly violates national laws. But not every overseas case presents a clear violation of national law. In 2006, for example, protesters at a Google office in India demanded the removal of content on Orkut, the social networking site, that criticized Shiv Sena, a hard-line Hindu political party popular in Mumbai. Wong eventually decided to take down an Orkut group dedicated to attacking Shivaji, revered as a deity by the Shiv Sena Party, because it violated Orkut terms of service by criticizing a religion, but she decided not to take down another group because it merely criticized a political party. “If stuff is clearly illegal, we take that down, but if it’s on the edge, you might push a country a little bit,” Wong told me. “Free-speech law is always built on the edge, and in each country, the question is: Can you define what the edge is?”

Over the past couple of years, Google and its various applications have been blocked, to different degrees, by 24 countries. Blogger is blocked in Pakistan, for example, and Orkut in Saudi Arabia. Meanwhile, governments are increasingly pressuring telecom companies like Comcast and Verizon to block controversial speech at the network level. Europe and the U.S. recently agreed to require Internet service providers to identify and block child pornography, and in Europe there are growing demands for network-wide blocking of terrorist-incitement videos. As a result, Wong and her colleagues worry that Google’s ability to make case-by-case decisions about what links and videos are accessible through Google’s sites may be slowly circumvented, as countries are requiring the companies that give us access to the Internet to build top-down censorship into the network pipes.

It is not only foreign countries that are eager to restrict speech on Google and YouTube. In May, 2006, Joseph Lieberman who has become the A. Mitchell Palmer of the digital age, had his staff contacted Google and demanded that the company remove from YouTube dozens of what he described as jihadist videos. After viewing the videos one by one, Wong and her colleagues removed some of the videos but refused to remove those that they decided didn’t violate YouTube guidelines. Lieberman wasn’t satisfied. In an angry follow-up letter to Eric Schmidt, the C.E.O. of Google, Lieberman demanded that all content he characterized as being “produced by Islamist terrorist organizations” be immediately removed from YouTube as a matter of corporate judgment — even videos that didn’t feature hate speech or violent content or violate U.S. law. Wong and her colleagues responded by saying, “YouTube encourages free speech and defends everyone’s right to express unpopular points of view.” Recently, Google and YouTube announced new guidelines prohibiting videos “intended to incite violence.”

That category scrupulously tracks the Supreme Court’s rigorous First Amendment doctrine, which says that speech can be banned only when it poses an imminent threat of producing serious lawless action. Unfortunately, Wong and her colleagues recently retreated from that bright line under further pressure from Lieberman. In November, 2010, YouTube added a new category that viewers can click to flag videos for removal: “promotes terrorism.” There are 24 hours of video uploaded on YouTube every minute, and a series of categories viewers can use to request removal, including “violent or repulsive content” or inappropriate sexual content. Although hailed by Senator Lieberman, the new “promotes terrorism category” is potentially troubling because it goes beyond the narrow test of incitement to violence that YouTube had previously used to flag terrorism related videos for removal. YouTube’s capitulation to Lieberman shows that a user generated system for enforcing community standards will never protect speech as scrupulously as unelected judges enforcing strict rules about when speech can be viewed as a form of dangerous conduct.

Google remains a better guardian for free speech than internet companies like Facebook and Twitter, which have refused to join the Global Network Initiative, an industry-wide coalition committed to upholding free speech and privacy. But the recent capitulation of YouTube shows that Google’s “trust us” model may not be a stable way of protecting free speech in the twenty-first century, even though the alternatives to trusting Google – such as authorizing national regulatory bodies around the globe to request the removal of controversial videos – might protect less speech than Google’s “Decider” model currently does.

I’d like to conclude by stressing the complexity of protecting constitutional values like privacy and free speech in the age of Google and Facebook, which are not formally constrained by the Constitution. In each of my examples – 24/7 Facebook surveillance, blob machines, escaping your Facebook past, and promoting free speech on YouTube and Google -- it’s possible to imagine a rule or technology that would protect free speech and privacy, while also preserving security—a blob-machine like solution. But in some areas, those blob-machine-like solutions are more likely, in practice, to be adopted then others. Engaged minorities may demand blob machines when they personally experience their own privacy being violated; but they may be less likely to rise up against the slow expansion of surveillance cameras, which transform expectations of privacy in public. Judges in the American system may be more likely to resist ubiquitous surveillance in the name of Roe v. Wade-style autonomy than they are to create a legal right to allow people to edit their Internet pasts, which relies on ideas of dignity that in turn require a social consensus that in America, at least, does not exist. As for free speech, it is being anxiously guarded for the moment by Google, but the tremendous pressures, from consumers and government are already making it hard to hold the line at removing only speech that threatens imminent lawless action.

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Executive Summary

In recent years, growth in demand for wireless services has sparked a boom in the mobile phone and wireless data sector.[i] During the past four years, the number of mobile phone subscribers tripled,[ii] and the number of jobs in the telecommunications field has nearly quintupled.[iii] New, better, and faster mobile devices, such as tablets and smartphones, have created multi-billion dollar industries of their own, such as Google Android and the Apple iOS “app stores.”[iv] And those technologies have contributed to the dawning of an always-on, always-connected culture.

But this growing demand for mobile Internet access requires a growing amount of wireless radio spectrum, portending serious problems for the future. At the moment, the United States has designated 547 MHz of spectrum to wireless broadband services, but the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) predicts a need for 637 MHz of spectrum by 2013, and 822 MHz of spectrum by 2014.[v] Without more spectrum allocated to wireless Internet connectivity, America risks short-circuiting the mobile broadband revolution.

The National Broadband Plan proposes a solution. It sets forth a detailed plan to make 300 MHz of spectrum available for wireless broadband use within the next five years, and another 200 MHz in the five years after that.[vi] It seeks to achieve this freeing of spectrum by auctioning unused spectrum, lifting burdensome regulations to enable wireless broadband service in certain spectrum ranges, and reallocating spectrum from other services – notably broadcast television – to enable such spectrum to be used for wireless broadband.[vii] Though many of these provisions are controversial, the FCC has already done serious work to achieve these goals. If the FCC can achieve its goals to enable the growth of wireless broadband, America will be able to unlock the full potential of the wireless broadband revolution and realize the potential of a new wave of American innovation.

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In an interview on NPR's Fresh Air, Jeffrey Rosen discusses how technological changes are challenging basic Constitutional principles of freedom of speech and our own individual autonomy.

TERRY GROSS, HOST:This is FRESH AIR. I'm Terry Gross. The digital world that we've come to rely on - the Internet, social networks, GPS's, street maps—also creates opportunities to collect information about us, track our movements and invade our privacy. Add to that brain scans that might reveal criminal tendencies and new developments in genetic medicine and biotechnology, and you have a lot of potential challenges to basic Constitutional principles that our founding father couldn't possibly have imagined.

My guest, Jeffrey Rosen has put together a new book that explores those challenges. Along with Benjamin Wittes, he co-edited Constitution 3.0: Freedom and Technological Change. It's a publication of the Brookings Institution's Project on Technology and the Constitution, which Rosen directs. He's also a law professor at George Washington University and legal editor for The New Republic.

His new book is a collection of essays in which a diverse group of legal scholars imagine plausible technological developments in or near the year 2025 that would stress current Constitutional law, and they propose possible solutions.

Jeffrey Rosen, welcome back to FRESH AIR. So what are the particular parts of the Constitution that you think really come into play here with new technologies?

JEFFREY ROSEN: Well, what's so striking is that none of the existing amendments give clear answers to the most basic questions we're having today. So, for example, think about global positioning system technologies, which the Supreme Court is now considering. Can the police, without a warrant, put a secret GPS device on the bottom of someone's car and track him 24/7 for a month?

Well, the relevant constitutional text is the Fourth Amendment which says the right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers and effects against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated. But that doesn't answer the question: Is it an unreasonable search of our persons or effects to be monitored in public spaces?

Some courts have said no. Several lower court judges and the Obama administration argue that we have no expectation of privacy in public, because it's theoretically possible for our neighbors to put a tail on us or for the police to track us for 100 miles, as the court has said. Therefore, we have to assume the risk that we're being monitored, ubiquitously, 24/7 for a month.

But not everyone agrees. In a visionary opinion, Judge Douglas Ginsburg on the U.S. Court of Appeals for the D.C. Circuit said there's a tremendous difference between short-term and long-term surveillance. We may expect that our neighbors are watching when we walk on the street for a few blocks, but no one in practice expects to be tailed or surveilled for a month.

Ginsburg said we do have an expectation of privacy in the whole of our movements, and therefore when the police are going to engage in long-term surveillance, because they can learn so much more about us, they should have a warrant.

There was a remarkable moment in the oral argument for the global positioning system case. Chief Justice John Roberts, who asked the first question, he said: Isn't there a difference between 100-mile search of the kind we've approved in the past and watching someone for a month?

The government's lawyer resisted, and Roberts said: Is it the U.S. government's position that the police could put GPS devices inside the clothes of the members of this court, of these justices, or under our cars and track us for a month? And when the government's lawyer said yes, I think he may have lost the case.

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Technology unimaginable at the time of the nation’s founding now poses stark challenges to America’s core constitutional principles. Policymakers and legal scholars are closely examining how constitutional law is tested by technological change and how to preserve constitutional principles without hindering progress. In Constitution 3.0: Freedom and Technological Change (Brookings Institution Press, 2011), Governance Studies Senior Fellow Benjamin Wittes and Nonresident Senior Fellow Jeffrey Rosen asked a diverse group of leading scholars to imagine how technological developments plausible by the year 2025 could stress current constitutional law. The resulting essays explore scenarios involving information technology, genetic engineering, security, privacy and beyond.

On December 13, the Governance Studies program at Brookings hosted a Judicial Issues Forum examining the scenarios posed in Constitution 3.0 and the challenge of adapting our constitutional values to the technology of the near future. Wittes and Rosen offered key highlights and insights from the book and was joined by two key contributors, O. Carter Snead and Timothy Wu, who discussed their essays.

After the program, panelists took audience questions.

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On April 10 and 11, 2015, the Seventh Summit of the Americas will bring together the heads of state and government of every country in the Western Hemisphere for the first time. Recent efforts by the United States to reform immigration policy, re-establish diplomatic relations with Cuba, and reform our approach to drug policies at home and abroad have generated greater optimism about the future of inter-American relations. This Summit provides an opportunity to spark greater collaboration on development, social inclusion, democracy, education, and energy security.

However, this Summit of the Americas is also convening at a time when the hemisphere is characterized by competing visions for economic development, democracy and human rights, and regional cooperation through various institutions such as the Organization of American States, the Union of South American Nations, and the Community of Latin American and Caribbean States.

On Friday, April 3, the Latin America Initiative at Brookings hosted Assistant Secretary of State Roberta S. Jacobson for a discussion on the Seventh Summit of the Americas and what it portends for the future of hemispheric relations.

Join the conversation on Twitter using #VIISummit

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On December 17, 2014, President Barack Obama and President Raúl Castro announced that the United States and Cuba would seek to reestablish diplomatic relations. Since then, the two countries have engaged in bilateral negotiations in Havana and Washington, the United States has made several unilateral policy changes to facilitate greater trade and travel between the two countries, and bipartisan legislation has been introduced in the U.S. Congress to lift the travel ban. Meanwhile, conversations are ongoing about ending the 50-plus-year embargo and Cuba has continued the process of updating its economic system, including establishing new rules for foreign investment and the emerging private sector.

In light of the significant shifts underway in the U.S.-Cuba relationship, new questions arise about Cuba’s development model, and its economic relations with the region and the world. On Tuesday, June 2, the Latin America Initiative at Brookings hosted a series of panel discussions with various experts including economists, lawyers, academics, and practitioners to examine opportunities and challenges facing Cuba in this new context. Panels examined macroeconomic changes underway in Cuba, how to finance Cuba’s growth, the emerging private sector, and themes related to much-needed foreign investment.

Join the conversation on Twitter using #CubaGrowth

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• Panel 4: A New stage in foreign direct investment

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As the United States and Cuba rebuild formal relations, certain challenging topics remain to be addressed. Among these are outstanding U.S. property claims in Cuba. In this report, Richard E. Feinberg argues that it is in both countries’ interests to tackle this thorny issue expeditiously, and that the trauma of property seizures in the twentieth century could be transformed into an economic opportunity now.

The report looks closely at the nearly 6,000 certified U.S. claims, disaggregating them by corporate and individual, large and small. To settle the U.S. claims, Feinberg suggests a hybrid formula, whereby smaller claimants receive financial compensation while larger corporate claimants can select an “opt-out” option whereby they pursue their claims directly with Cuban authorities, perhaps facilitated by an umbrella bilateral claims resolution committee. In this scenario, the larger corporate claimants (which account for nearly $1.7 billion of the $1.9 billion in total U.S. claims, excluding interest) could select from a menu of business development rights, including vouchers applicable to tax liabilities or equity investments, and preferred acquisition rights. Participating U.S. firms could also agree to inject additional capital and modern technology, to ensure benefits to the Cuban economy.

Though it is often argued that Cuba is too poor to pay some $2 billion of claims, the paper finds that Cuba can in fact manage payments if they are stretched out over a reasonable period of time and exclude interest. The paper also suggests a number of mechanisms whereby the Cuban government could secure funds to pay compensation, including revenues on normalization-related activities.

The Cuban government does not dispute the principle of compensation for properties nationalized in the public interest; the two governments agree on this. Cuba also asserts a set of counter-claim that allege damages from the embargo and other punitive actions against it. But a grand bargain with claims settlement as the centerpiece would require important changes in U.S. sanctions laws and regulations that restrict U.S. investments in Cuba. The United States could also offer to work with Cuba and other creditors to renegotiate Cuba’s outstanding official and commercial debts, taking into account Cuba’s capacity to pay, and allow Cuba to enter the international financial institutions.

Feinberg ultimately argues that both nations should make claims resolution the centerpiece of a grand bargain that would advance the resolution of a number of other remaining points of tension between the two nations. This paves the way for Cuba to embrace an ambitious-forward-looking development strategy and for real, notable progress in normalizing relations with the United States.

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Change is a complicated thing in Cuba. On the one hand, many Cubans remain frustrated with limits on economic and political opportunity, and millennials are emigrating in ever rising numbers. On the other, there is more space for entrepreneurship, and Havana is full of energy and promise today.

The island’s emerging private sector is growing—and along with it, start-up investment costs. Three years ago, Yamina Vicente opened her events planning firm, Decorazón, with a mere $500 in cash. Today she estimates she would need $5,000 to compete. New upscale restaurants are opening: Mery Cabrera returned from Ecuador to invest her savings in Café Presidente, a sleek bistro located on the busy Avenue of the Presidents. And lively bars at establishments like 304 O’Reilly feature bright mixologists doing brisk business.

Photo credit: Richard Feinberg.

Havana’s hotels are fully booked through the current high season. The overflow of tourists is welcome news for the thousands of bed-and-breakfasts flowering throughout the city (many of which are now networked through AirBnB). While most bed-and-breakfasts used to be one or two rooms rented out of people’s homes, Cubans today are renovating entire buildings to rent out. These are the green shoots of what will become boutique hotels, and Cubans are quitting their low-paying jobs in the public sector to become managers of their family’s rental offerings.

Another new sign: real estate agencies! Most Cubans own their own homes—really own them, mortgage-free. But only recently did President Raúl Castro authorize the sales of homes, suddenly giving Cubans a valuable financial asset. Many sell them to get cash to open a new business. Others, to immigrate to Miami.

WiFi hot spots are also growing in number. Rejecting an offer from Google to provide Internet access to the entire island, the Cuban government instead set up some 700 public access locations. This includes 65 WiFi hot spots in parks, hotels, or major thoroughfares, where mostly young Cubans gather to message friends or chat with relatives overseas.

Economic swings

2015 was a good year for the Cuban economy, relatively speaking. Growth rose from the disappointing 2 percent in recent years to (by official measures) 4 percent. The Brazilian joint venture cigarette company, Brascuba, reported a 17 percent jump in sales, and announced a new $120 million investment in the Mariel Economic Development Zone. Shoppers crowded state-run malls over the holiday season, too. 

Photo credit: Richard Feinberg.

Consumers still report chronic shortages in many commodities, ranging from beer to soap, and complain of inflation in food prices. Alarmed by the chronic crisis of low productivity in agriculture, the government announced tax breaks for farmers in 2016. The government is already forecasting a slower growth rate for 2016, attributed to lower commodity prices and a faltering Venezuelan economy. It’s likely to fall back to the average 2 percent rate that has characterized the past decade.

Pick up the pace

Cuban officials are looking forward to the 7th Conference of the Cuban Communist Party (CCP) in mid-April. There is little public discussion of the agenda, however. Potential initiatives include a new electoral law permitting direct election of members of the national assembly (who are currently chosen indirectly by regional assemblies or by CCP-related mass organizations); a timetable for unification of the currency (Cubans today must deal with two forms of money); some measures to empower provincial governments; and the development of a more coherent, forward-looking economic development strategy.

[T]here are now two brain drains: an internal brain drain, as government officials abandon the public sector for higher incomes in the growing private sector; and emigration overseas.

But for many younger Cubans, the pace of change is way too slow. The talk of the town remains the exit option. Converse with any well-educated millennial and they’ll tell you that half or more of their classmates are now living abroad. Indeed, there are now two brain drains: an internal brain drain, as government officials abandon the public sector for higher incomes in the growing private sector; and emigration overseas to the United States, but also to Spain, Canada, Mexico.

The challenge for the governing CCP is to give young people hope in the future. The White House has signaled that President Obama may visit Cuba this year. Such a visit by Obama—who is immensely popular on the island—could help. But the main task is essentially a Cuban one.

Richard Feinberg’s forthcoming book, “Open for Business: Building the New Cuban Economy,” will be published by Brookings Press later this year.

The global consumer products company Unilever Plc announced on Monday a $35 million investment in Cuba’s Special Development Zone at Mariel. Late last year, Brascuba, a joint venture with a Brazilian firm, Souza Cruz, owned by the mega-conglomerate British American Tobacco (BAT), confirmed it would built a $120 million facility in the same location.

So far, these are the two biggest investments in the much-trumpeted Cuban effort to attract foreign investment, outside of traditional tourism. Yet, neither investment is really new. Unilever had been operating in Cuba since the mid-1990s, only to exit a few years ago in a contract dispute with the Cuban authorities. Brascuba will be moving its operations from an existing factory to the ZED Mariel site.

What is new is the willingness of Cuban authorities to accede to the corporate requirements of foreign investors. Finally, the Cubans appear to grasp that Cuba is a price-taker, and that it must fit into the global strategies of their international business partners. Certainly, Cuban negotiators can strike smart deals, but they cannot dictate the over-arching rules of the game.

Cuba still has a long way to go before it reaches the officially proclaimed goal of $2.5 billion in foreign investment inflows per year. Total approvals last year for ZED Mariel reached only some $200 million, and this year are officially projected to reach about $400 million. For many potential investors, the business climate remains too uncertain, and the project approval process too opaque and cumbersome. But the Brascuba and Unilever projects are definitely movements in the right direction.

But Unilever feared that granting its Cuban partner 51% would yield too much management control and could jeopardize brand quality. Unilever also balked at exporting products made in Cuba, where product costs were as much as one-third higher than in bigger Unilever plants in other Latin American countries.

The 2012 collapse of the Unilever contract renewal negotiations adversely affected investor perceptions of the business climate. If the Cuban government could not sustain a good working relationship with Unilever—a highly regarded, marquée multinational corporation with a global footprint—what international investor (at least one operating in the domestic consumer goods markets) could be confident of its ability to sustain a profitable long-term operation in Cuba?

In the design of the new joint venture, Cuba has allowed Unilever a majority 60% stake. Furthermore, in the old joint venture, Unilever executives complained that low salaries, as set by the government, contributed to low labor productivity. In ZED Mariel, worker salaries will be significantly higher: firms like Unilever will continue to pay the same wages to the government employment entity, but the entity’s tax will be significantly smaller, leaving a higher take-home pay for the workers. Hiring and firing will remain the domain of the official entity, however, not the joint venture.

Unilever is also looking forward to currency unification, widely anticipated for 2016. Previously, Unilever had enjoyed comfortable market shares in the hard-currency Cuban convertible currency (CUC) market, but had been largely excluded from the national currency markets, which state-owned firms had reserved for themselves. With currency unification, Unilever will be able to compete head-to-head with state-owned enterprises in a single national market.

Similarly, Brascuba will benefit from the new wage regime at Mariel and, as a consumer products firm, from currency unification. At its old location, Brascuba considered motivating and retaining talent to be among the firm’s key challenges; the higher wages in ZED Mariel will help to attract and retain high-quality labor.

Brascuba believes this is a good time for expansion. Better-paid workers at Mariel will be well motivated, and the expansion of the private sector is putting more money into consumer pockets. The joint venture will close its old facility in downtown Havana, in favor of the new facility at Mariel, sharply expanding production for both the domestic and international markets (primarily, Brazil).

A further incentive for investment today is the prospect of the lifting of U.S. economic sanctions, even if the precise timing is impossible to predict. Brascuba estimated that U.S. economic sanctions have raised its costs of doing business by some 20%. Inputs such as cigarette filters, manufacturing equipment and spare parts, and infrastructure such as information technology, must be sourced from more distant and often less cost-efficient sources.

Another sign of enhanced Cuban flexibility: neither investment is in a high technology sector, the loudly touted goal of ZED Mariel. A manufacturer of personal hygiene and home care product lines, Unilever will churn out toothpaste and soap, among other items. Brascuba will produce cigarettes. Cuban authorities now seem to accept that basic consumer products remain the bread-and-butter of any modern economy. An added benefit: international visitors will find a more ready supply of shampoo!

The Unilever and Brascuba renewals suggest a new realism in the Cuban camp. At ZED Mariel, Cuba is allowing their foreign partners to exert management control, to hire a higher-paid, better motivated workforce, and it is anticipated, to compete in a single currency market. And thanks to the forward-looking diplomacy of Raúl Castro and Barack Obama, international investors are also looking forward to the eventual lifting of U.S. economic sanctions.

This piece was originally published in Cuba Standard.

In advance of President Obama’s historic trip to Cuba and Argentina, three Brookings scholars participated in a media roundtable to offer context and outline their expectations for the outcomes of the trip. Richard Feinberg and Ted Piccone discussed Cuba–including developments in the U.S.-Cuba relationship, the Cuban economy, and human rights on the island–and Harold Trinkunas offered insight on Argentina, inter-American relations, and the timing of the visit.

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Richard Feinberg:

The idea is to promote a gradual incremental transition to a more open, pluralistic and prosperous Cuba integrated into global markets of goods, capital, and ideas. It is a long-term strategy. It cannot be measured by quarterly reports.

Ted Piccone:

...the key [is] to unlock a whole set of future changes that I think will be net positive for the United States, but it is going to take time, and it is not going to happen overnight.

Harold Trinkunas:

Cuba is really about moving, among other things, a stumbling block to better relations with Latin America, and Argentina is about restoring a positive relationship with a key swing state in the region that was once one of our most important allies in the region.

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Editors' Note: Brookings Nonresident Senior Fellow Richard Feinberg reports from Havana on President Obama's historic visit to the island.

Walking the streets of Havana during Obama’s two full-day visit here, the face of every Cuban I spoke with lit up brightly upon the mere mention of Obama’s name. “Brilliant,” “well-spoken,” “well-prepared,” “humanitarian,” “a true friend of Cuba,” were common refrains.

These Cubans did not need to add that their own aging, distant leaders compare unfavorably to the elegant, accessible Obama. And the U.S. president’s mixed ethnicity is a powerful visual that does not need to be verbally underscored to a multi-racial Cuban population. But this skeptical question remained: “Would the visit make a lasting difference?” Would the government of Cuba permit some of the changes that Obama was so forcefully advocating?

In his joint press conference with President Raúl Castro, and in his speech in a concert hall that was televised live to an intensely interested Cuban public, Obama spoke with remarkable directness about human rights and democratic freedoms, sparking more than one overhead conversation among Cubans about their own lack thereof.

With eloquent dexterity, Obama delivered his subversive message carefully wrapped in assurances about his respect for Cuba’s national sovereignty. “Cubans will make their own destiny,” he reassured a proudly nationalist audience.

“The President of the world”—as average Cubans are wont to refer to the U.S. president—emphasized that just as the United States no longer perceives Cuba as a threat, neither should Cuba fear the United States. Offering an outstretched hand, Obama sought to deprive the Cuban authorities of the external threat that they have used so effectively to justify their authoritarian rule and to excuse their poor economic performance.

On Cuban state television, commentators were clearly thrown on the defensive, seeking to return the conversation to the remaining economic sanctions—“the blockade”—to the U.S. occupation of the Guantanamo Naval Base and to past U.S. aggressions. Their national security paradigm requires such an external imminent danger.

Obama sought to strengthen the favorable trends on the island, by meeting with independent civil society leaders and young private entrepreneurs. One owner of an event planning business confided to me, “I cried during our meeting with Obama—and I rarely cry—because here was the leader of the most powerful nation on earth meeting with us, and listening to us with sophisticated understanding, when our own leaders never ever do.”

Obama assured the Cubans he would continue to ask Congress to lift the remaining economic sanctions—but he added that the Cuban government could help. It could allow U.S. firms to trade with the Cuban private sector and cooperatives, and now with some state-owned enterprises “if such exchanges would benefit the Cuban people.” So far, the government has permitted very few such transactions—ironically, an auto-embargo. And the Cuban government could engage the United States in an effective human rights dialogue and prioritize settlement of outstanding claims.

Certainly, the administration needs Cuba’s help in broadening constituencies in the United States for its policy of positive engagement with Cuba. Some U.S. firms—Verizon; AT&T; AirBnB; now Starwood Hotels and Resorts; shortly, various U.S. commercial airlines and ferry services—are signing deals. And the surge of U.S. travelers visiting the island typically return home as advocates for deepening normalization. Obama’s entourage included nearly 40 members of the Congress, the largest of his presidency, he said.

But Obama still does not have the votes to lift the embargo. He told the Cubans he has “aggressively” used executive authority to carve out exceptions to the embargo, such that the list of things he can do administratively is growing shorter. In effect, he tossed the ball into the Cuban government’s court. Only if Cuba opens to U.S. commerce, only if it shows a disposition to improve its human rights practices, might the U.S. Congress be moved to fully normalize economic relations.

If Cubans were so impressed by Obama, why do I only reward him a triple? Fundamentally, because his White House staff failed to secure a schedule that would have exposed him more directly to the welcoming Cuban people. There were rumors he was to throw out the first pitch at an exhibition game between the Tampa Bay Rays and the Cuban national team (won 4-1 by the U.S. squad), but that opportunity was denied. Nor was he permitted to make his main speech before an outdoor Cuban public. As he walked around Havana’s colonial center, the authorities allowed only small crowds. Michelle and accompanying daughters, Malia and Sasha—potentially powerful symbols in a family-oriented country—kept subdued schedules. Overall, the Cubans managed to hem Obama in, and to hand-select most of the audiences from among their loyal followers, audiences that were predictably polite but restrained. Fortunately, the meeting with opposition activists went forward as planned.

Further, while Obama’s remarks were well received, his texts were not as well woven together by coherent narratives as they might have been. And many Cubans would have liked to hear more about specific measures to build a more prosperous economy.

When asked whether Castro and Obama had “chemistry” by a reporter, a senior Cuban diplomat preferred to refer to “mutual respect.” But the two leaders did seem to develop a real rapport. During the baseball game, they spent a full hour sitting next to each other, seemingly in relaxed conversation. And during a brief question-and-answer period at the end of their joint press conference, when a U.S. reporter peppered Castro with hostile questions, Obama jumped in to fill time while Castro—not at all accustomed to press conferences—struggled to compose his response.

Cubans will long remember this visit by the sort of charismatic leader that they once had, in a youthful Fidel Castro, and that they would long to find once again. In the meantime, the Obama administration will do what it can to reintroduce Cuba to U.S. goods and services, U.S. citizen-diplomats, musical concerts, sports stars—Shaquille O’Neal, among others—and other cultural, educational, and scientific exchanges. And it will also spread ideas, about how to improve the sluggish Cuban economy and gradually integrate it into global commerce, and in the longer run, to help give average Cubans a greater voice in determining their own national destiny.

It appears that Omar al-Bashir’s regime in Khartoum may be counting down to its demise as internal and external pressures seem poised to boil over and finally wrest the country out of his control. While the international community has imposed painful trade sanctions and the International Criminal Court has sought to bring al-Bashir to justice for his role in the Darfur conflict, Sudan’s own citizens have been increasingly demonstrative of their dissatisfaction and desire for change. During the last few years, al-Bashir has faced growing opposition from restless urban youth who are no longer willing to live with the status quo. There have also been fears within the old guard—the military and hardcore Islamists—that Sudan could fall victim to uprisings like those in Egypt and Tunisia.

In addition to the significant dislocations to the Sudanese economy caused by trade sanctions by Western countries, Khartoum has also lost significant revenues from the sale of oil produced in South Sudan’s oil fields due to ongoing disputes. To deal with these large shortfalls, al-Bashir’s government has imposed severe austerity measures on the economy, including major reductions in government subsidies, most notably on food and fuel. In response, a broad cross-section of the population took to the streets in protest. In September of this year, like their counterparts in Egypt and Tunisia before them, large numbers of unemployed and restless Sudanese youth took to the streets to demand the ouster of al-Bashir and his government. Government security forces responded with a vengeance, arresting large numbers of protesters and either killing or causing the deaths of many of them.

Within the military, which, together with Islamists, has been the base of al-Bashir’s support since the 1989 coup, there is significant discontent. In addition, there is evidence that some members of al-Bashir’s party—the National Congress Party—are not happy with the president for his failure to deal effectively with the country’s multifarious problems. Today, Sudan’s economy is falling apart—there is galloping inflation, high unemployment, especially among urban youth, and many Sudanese live below the poverty level. In addition, Khartoum is still unable to deal properly with the demands of various ethnic minorities, which are waging violent protests to force the government to allow them to rule themselves. Many groups want genuine institutional reforms and a governing process that is truly democratic and characterized by the rule of law.

Added to the litany of problems Sudan faces is the fact that it remains embroiled in conflict with South Sudan over the future of the Abyei region and its rich oil reserves. The scheduled 2011 vote for Abyei citizens to decide between South Sudan and Sudan did not occur and just recently opposing stakeholders in the region have argued over when and how to hold the referendum with one group boycotting the other’s efforts. Thus, the region remains in limbo.

Hardcore Islamists, long in the president’s corner, are now warning al-Bashir that he is not likely to successfully solve Sudan’s complex problems by simply cracking down on protesters. The question now is: Will al-Bashir give in to the demands of his protesting fellow citizens and initiate the necessary democratic reforms, or will he continue to resist and eventually suffer a fate similar to the one that befell his counterparts in Egypt and Tunisia?

On January 30, 2011, al-Bashir’s vulnerability to a similar uprising was first made apparent when protesters took to the streets of Khartoum and Al-Ubayyid after using online social networking sites to coordinate demonstrations. The government response was swift and extremely brutal—several students were arrested and one was killed. Sporadic and uncoordinated protests, particularly among university students, were also witnessed in the coming months. Then, on September 23, 2013, riots broke out in response to the removal of state subsidies on fuel and cooking gas in Khartoum. The violence spread first across Khartoum and Omdurman in the heart of the regime’s power base, and then to other cities in the days that followed. Protesters, calling for the removal of al-Bashir, blocked roads and set government buildings on fire. As usual, the regime responded brutally, killing more than 50 protesters according to some witnesses and arresting thousands of Sudanese citizens.

Although the Sudanese situation in 2013 is similar to the 2011 situations of its North African neighbors in terms of social frustration over incumbent regimes, Sudan differs from them in three main ways.

First, the majority of Sudanese do not use social media; hence, it is much more difficult to coordinate protests using tools like Facebook and Twitter.

Second, the government has cracked down on the press and blocked the free flow of information, further disconnecting citizens from potentially valuable information.

Third, Bashir’s regime is much less tolerant of protests and demonstrations and has demonstrated a proclivity for using as much force as quickly as possible to snuff out public uprisings. Such efforts are likely to buy only temporary reprieve for the dying regime as it clutches to power, and such responses cannot force the people to give up their demands for improvements in their standard of living, as well as for respect of their fundamental rights.

Without a credible opposition party to coordinate and peacefully channel the frustrations of restless youth into a peaceful revolution, current events in Sudan are likely to force the country into another bloody civil war. There is, of course, a possibility that, given the fact that Sudan does not have the type of institutional arrangements (free and independent press; independent judiciary; regular, free, credible and fair elections) that can provide citizens with the tools to either change their government or petition the latter for relief from tyranny, Sudan could soon become another failed state, such as Somalia. It would then become, like Somalia, a magnet for terrorists and extremist groups seeking to destabilize the region. In addition, another civil war in Sudan would flood the region with refugees and exacerbate the problems now facing many countries in East Africa. Of course, unrest in Sudan could easily spill over into neighboring countries such as Eritrea, Ethiopia, South Sudan and Uganda and create a serious humanitarian crisis in the Horn of Africa.

Dictators and autocrats can be undone by their inability or unwillingness to learn from history, even if that history is not theirs. Given the fact that Sudan’s neighbors have been embroiled in revolutions initiated and carried out by young people frustrated by their countries’ failure to provide them with jobs and protect their fundamental rights, one wonders why al-Bashir thinks the same fate would not befall him and his regime. It has become apparent that al-Bashir is unwilling or unable to recognize the fact that the world is no longer willing to tolerate his regime’s disregard for basic human rights and that Sudan, if it hopes to regain its standing as an accepted member of the international community, cannot afford to serve as a hiding place for dictators.

At the moment, al-Bashir faces a lot of problems emanating from inside and outside the country. It would be wise for al-Bashir and his government to start constructive dialogue with the people of Sudan in an effort to develop the modalities to peacefully transition to democracy. A credible first step would be for al-Bashir to form a transitional government that includes opposition parties. One of the most important functions of such a government should be to engage all relevant stakeholder groups in democratic constitution making to develop and adopt institutional arrangements that guarantee the rule of law and, hence, provide citizens with a governing process that protects their fundamental rights and provides them with the tools for self-actualization. Of course, while institutional reforms are a long-term project, in the short term, the transitional government must put into place mechanisms to protect the fundamental rights of citizens, as well as improve relations with South Sudan in order to secure the peaceful coexistence that is critical for investment and economic growth.

In recent years, relations between the International Criminal Court (ICC) and the African Union have been crumbling. Relations between the two were once solid with strong support from AU member countries.  The ICC has had support from African countries because of the court’s ability to prevent Rwandan genocide-type atrocities and ease power differentials between small and large African nations in international trial situations. 

Brookings nonresident scholar, John Mukum Mbaku, discusses the rising tensions between the ICC and African countries in his contribution to Foresight Africa, a collection of short briefs on the top challenges and opportunities for Africa in 2014.

Read the related paper »

According to John Mbaku, some African countries see the ICC as quite problematic because of the perceived bias that the court brings mostly African criminal cases to trial.  Other countries feel their sovereignty is threatened by the court.  The African Union has gone so far as to ask member countries not to comply or cooperate with the ICC and has attempted (unsuccessfully) to withdraw from The Hague.  A major trigger for these the recent issues with the ICC and African countries was the election of Uhuru Kenyatta as president of Kenya. Kenyatta was indicted by the ICC for crimes against humanity and for allegedly inciting ethnic violence following the highly disputed 2007 elections in Kenya.  

John argues that repairing the ties between African countries and the ICC will be difficult, but might be possible through reforms to the ICC process and commitment to stronger judicial systems in African nations.

Read Foresight Africa 2014, which details the top priorities for Africa in the coming year, to learn more about the prospects for strengthening  international justice in Africa, and other critical issues for the region.

Professor Riek Machar, former vice president of South Sudan and now leader of the rebel group that is fighting the government of South Sudan for control of the apparatus of the government, has publicly threatened to capture and take control of both the capital city of Juba and the oil-producing regions of the country. Branding South Sudan’s president, Salva Kiir, a “dictator” and arguing that he does not recognize the need to share power, Professor Machar stated that the present conflict, which has lasted for more than five months and resulted in the killing of many people and the destruction of a significant amount of property, will not end until Kiir is chased out of power.

Violent mobilization by groups loyal to Machar against the government in Juba began in December 2013. It was only after bloody confrontations between the two parties that targeted civilians based on their ethnicity had resulted in the deaths of many people (creating a major humanitarian crisis) that a cease-fire agreement was signed in Addis Ababa on January 23, 2014, with the hope of bringing to an end the brutal fighting. The cease-fire, however, was seen only as the first step towards negotiations that were supposed to help the country exit the violent conflict and secure institutional arrangements capable of guaranteeing peaceful coexistence.

If Machar and his supporters have the wherewithal to carry out the threats and successfully do so, there is no guarantee that peace would be brought to the country. For one thing, any violent overthrow of the government would only engender more violence as supporters of Kiir and his benefactors are likely to regroup and attempt to recapture their lost political positions. What South Sudan badly needs is an institutionalization of democracy and not a government led by political opportunists. In fact, an effective strategy to exit from this incessant violence must be centered around the election of an inclusive interim government—minus both Kiir and Machar—that would engage all of the country’s relevant stakeholders in negotiations to create a governing process that adequately constrains the state, establishes mechanisms for the peaceful resolution of conflict, enhances peaceful coexistence, and provides an enabling environment for the rapid creation of the wealth needed to deal with poverty and deprivation.

On March 9, 2012, less than a year after South Sudan gained independence, then-Vice President Machar met with several Brookings scholars, including myself, in New York City. The meeting was part of the new country’s efforts to seek assistance from its international partners to address complex and longstanding development challenges, including critical issues such as the effective management of the country’s natural resource endowments, gender equity, the building of government capacity to maintain law and order, the provision of other critical public goods and services, and poverty alleviation. Among participants in this critical consultation were Mwangi S. Kimenyi, senior fellow and director of the Africa Growth Initiative (AGI) at the Brookings Institution; Witney Schneidman, AGI nonresident fellow and former deputy assistant secretary of state for African Affairs; and me. The vice president, who appeared extremely energetic and optimistic about prospects for sustainable development in the new country, requested an analysis of the commitments and achievements that the government of South Sudan had made since independence and suggestions for a way forward. The scholars, working in close collaboration with their colleagues at Brookings, produced a policy report requested by the vice president. The report entitled, South Sudan: One Year After Independence—Opportunities and Obstacles for Africa’s Newest Country, was presented at a well-attended public event on July 28, 2012. Panelists included Peter Ajak, director of the Center for Strategic Analyses and Research in Juba; Ambassador Princeton Lyman, U.S. special envoy for South Sudan and Sudan; Nada Mustafa Ali scholar at the New School for Social Research; Mwangi S. Kimenyi and me.

The report provided a comprehensive review of the policy issues requested by the vice president—the provision of basic services; future engagement between South Sudan and the Republic of Sudan; efficient and equitable management of natural resources; ethnic diversity and peaceful coexistence; federalism; eradication of corruption; and the benefits of regional integration. Most important is the fact that the report placed emphasis on the need for the government of South Sudan to totally reconstruct the state inherited from the Khartoum government through democratic constitution making and produce a governing process that (i) guarantees the protection of human and fundamental rights, including those of vulnerable groups (e.g., women, minority ethnic groups); (ii) adequately constrains the government (so that impunity, corruption and rent seeking are minimized); (iii) enhances entrepreneurial activities and provides the wherewithal for wealth creation and economic growth; and (iv) establishes mechanisms for the peaceful resolution of conflict and creates an environment within which all of the country’s diverse population groups can coexist peacefully.

Unfortunately, when the report was completed, members of the ruling Sudan People’s Liberation Movement were already embroiled in a brutal power struggle that eventually led to President Kiir sacking his entire cabinet, including the vice president. The collapse of the government raised the prospects of violent and destructive mobilization by groups that felt the president’s actions were marginalizing them both economically and politically. The ensuing chaos created an environment that was hardly conducive to the implementation of policies such as those presented in the Brookings report.

The government of Sudan has failed to engage in the type of robust institutional reforms that would have effectively prevented President Kiir and his government from engaging in the various opportunistic policies that have been partly responsible for the violence that now pervades the country. South Sudan’s diverse ethnic groups put forth a united front in their war against Khartoum for self-determination. Following independence, the new government engaged in state formation processes that did not provide mechanisms for all individuals and groups to compete fairly for positions in the political and economic systems. Instead, the government’s approach to state formation politicized ethnic cleavages and made the ethnic group the basis and foundation for political, and to a certain extent, economic participation. This approach has created a "sure recipe for breeding ethnic antagonism," and has led to the crisis that currently consumes the country.

While the most important policy imperative in South Sudan today is the need to make certain that the cease-fire continues to hold, long-term prospects for peaceful coexistence and development call for comprehensive institutional reforms to provide the country with a governing process that guarantees the rule of law. Hence, both the opposition and the government—the two sides in the present conflict—should take advantage of the cease-fire and start putting together the framework that will eventually be used to put the state back together. A new interim government, without the participation of the two protagonists—Kiir and Machar—should be granted the power to bring together all of the country’s relevant stakeholders to reconstitute and reconstruct the state, including negotiating a permanent constitution.

On Tuesday, October 28, 2014, tens of thousands of citizens of Burkina Faso gathered in its capital city, Ouagadougou, and its second biggest city, Bobo Dioulasso, to protest proposed changes to its constitution regarding term limits. A vote was planned for Thursday, on whether to extend the current limit of two terms to three. This vote is extremely controversial:  Current President Blaise Compaoré, who came to power in a coup in 1987, has ruled the country for 27 years. Allowing him to run for election in November 2015 could extend his reign for another five years. In Ouagadougou on Wednesday, citizens angry over the possibility that parliament might make it possible for Campaoré to stay in power indefinitely set fire to the parliament and forced legislators to postpone the vote that had been set for Thursday, October 30, 2014 to decide the constitutional issue.

The West African country has been plagued by dictators, autocracies and coups in the past. At independence on August 5, 1960, Maurice Yaméogo, leader of the Voltaic Democratic Union (Union démocratique voltaïque), became the country’s first president. Shortly after assuming power, Yaméogo banned all political opposition, forcing mass riots and demonstrations that only came to an end after the military intervened in 1966. Lt. Col. Sangoulé Lamizana and a collection of military elites took control of the government and subsequently dissolved the National Assembly as well as suspended the constitution. Lamizana stayed in power until November 1980 when the military overthrew the government and installed Col. Saye Zerbo as the new president. Two years later, Col. Zerbo’s government was overthrown by Maj. Dr. Jean-Baptiste Ouédraogo and the Council of Popular Salvation (CSP—Conseil du salut du peuple). Although it promised to transition the country to civilian rule and provide a new constitution, the Ouédraogo regime banned all political organizations, including opposition parties. There soon arose a political struggle within the CSP. The radicals, led by Captain Thomas Sankara, eventually overthrew the government in August 1983, and Capt. Sankara emerged as the country’s new leader. In 1984, the Sankara government changed the country’s name from Upper Volta to Burkina Faso and introduced many institutional reforms that effectively aligned the country with Marxist ideals.

On October 15, 1987, Capt. Blaise Compaoré, a former colleague of Sankara’s, killed Sankara and several of his confidants in a successful coup d’état. In 1991, Campaoré was elected president in an election in which only 25 percent of the electorate participated because of a boycott movement organized and carried out by opposition parties. In 1998, he won reelection for another seven-year term. As president, Campaoré reversed all the progressive policies that Sankara had implemented.

In 2000, the country’s post-Cold War 1991 constitution was amended to impose a limit of two five-year consecutive terms on the presidency. However, Campaoré’s supporters argued that because he was in office when the amendments went into effect, they did not apply to him and, hence, he was qualified to run for re-election in 2005. Despite the fact that the opposition fielded several candidates, Campoaré won 80.35 percent of the votes cast in the 2005 presidential election. And, in the presidential elections held in November 2010, he captured 80.2 percent of votes.

Over more than a quarter century in power, Campaoré has used an unusual formula to achieve relative stability in Burkina Faso—authoritarianism mixed with traces of democracy. The complex governance system has relied primarily on Campaoré’s dominant and charismatic political power and has failed to build sustainable institutions—specifically, those capable of maintaining the rule of law and enhancing peaceful coexistence in his absence.

Constitutionally mandated presidential term limits strengthen the rule of law and provide a significant level of stability and predictability to the country’s governance institutions. In response to the efforts by Burkinabé members of parliament to change the constitution to enable Compaoré to secure another term in office, U.S. government officials have recently stated that “democratic institutions are strengthened when established rules are adhered to with consistency.” On his part, Campaoré has proclaimed that his main and immediate concern “is not to build a future for myself—but to see how the future of this country will take shape.” If this is indeed true, then he should exit gracefully from the Burkinabé political scene and henceforth serve as an elder statesman, providing his country’s new leadership with the advice and support that they need to deepen and institutionalize democracy, as well as enhance economic, social, political and human development.

Insisting, as President Campoaré has done, that the constitution be changed so that he can seek an additional term in power not only destroys the country’s fragile stability but also sends the wrong message to citizens about the rule of law—while citizens must be law-abiding, the president does not have to abide by the country’s settled law; if the law stands in the way of the president’s personal ambitions, he can simply change the law to provide him with the wherewithal to achieve those objectives. Such behavior from the country’s chief executive does not augur well for deepening the country’s democracy, an objective that is dear to many Burkinabé. The question to ask President Campoaré is: How do you want history to remember you? As a self-serving political opportunist who used his public position to accumulate personal power and wealth, at the expense of fellow citizens, or as a public servant who led and directed his country’s transformation into a peaceful, safe and productive society?

On Friday, October 31, 2014, President Blaise Campaoré, who had ruled Burkina Faso for the last 27 years, was forced out of office. The resignation and subsequent military takeover of the government has created instability and questions over leadership in the country—especially since the constitutional line of succession has been broken by the insertion of military leaders. The power of the military is clear, especially since it has already influenced a second change in leadership. This interruption, subsequent transition and suspension of the constitution, then, have seriously threatened the strength of the rule of law and the future of the Burkinabé government.

The violent demonstrations that eventually forced President Campaoré to flee with his family into exile in Côte d’Ivoire could have been avoided had he not considered himself above the law. The impetus for the mass demonstrations was his attempt to change the country’s constitution in order to secure for himself another five-year term in office. Campaoré’s initial reaction to the violent demonstrations was to dissolve the government but retain his position as president until new elections were carried out to select a new government. He also agreed not to seek another term in office. The opposition, however, insisted that he resign. Interestingly, in his resignation statement, issued shortly before he fled the country, President Campaoré called for “free and transparent” elections to be held in 90 days to form a new government.

Shortly after the president’s resignation, General Honoré Traoré, Campaoré’s aide de camp, proclaimed himself president of the republic. This immediate military intervention into Burkinabé politics betrays either a lack of appreciation for constitutional democracy or a willful attempt by the military to take advantage of the instability occasioned by the planned constitutional changes to maximize their corporate interests. But, could someone who had risen to the head of the Burkinabé military have such little understanding of and appreciation for the constitutional order? In announcing that he had assumed the office of head of state, Traoré actually stated as follows: “In line with constitutional measures, and given the power vacuum . . . I will assume as of today my responsibilities as head of state.”

Importantly, there is no provision in the constitution of Burkina Faso for the head of the military or some other military officer to assume the powers of the president in case of a vacancy in the office. Succession, in the case of a vacancy in the presidency of the republic, is governed by Article 43 of the Constitution of Burkina Faso, 1991, which states that, in a case like this, the functions of the presidency should be performed by the president of the senate. [1]

After Traoré’s quick takeover, the leaders of the protests rejected the government headed by such a close and trusted advisor of the ousted president, claiming it would not represent a full and effective break with the painful past, especially the attempted constitutional changes. In fact, according to Al Jazeera, many of the protesters proclaimed that “[t]he general is linked to Campoaré, and they don’t want anyone linked to Campaoré to lead the country.”

Thus, early on Saturday, November 1, 2014, Colonel Isaac Zida declared that the army had taken control of the state to prevent further violence and that he had assumed the functions of head of state, leading what he referred to as a “peaceful transition”—one that would guarantee the “continuity of the [Burkinabé] state.” He, however, was extremely vague, providing few details, especially regarding how long this transitional government would stay in power or if the elections planned for 2015 will be held. Again, it is difficult to imagine that Zida, like Traoré, was not aware that the resignation and subsequent exit of the president from the political scene did not call for military intervention in the political system. In fact, a military officer of his standing should have had enough familiarity with the constitution to be aware of Article 43.

Oddly, the protesters appeared to have accepted the leadership of Zida, who is said to have been the deputy head of Campaoré’s elite presidential guard. It appears that the deciding factor in the struggle between the two men to assume the position of head of state was acceptance by the military: In a statement issued early on Saturday, November 1, 2014, the military indicated that Zida had been unanimously elected by military chiefs to lead the post-Campaoré transitional government. But, again, in making this decision, were these military leaders not aware of Article 43 of the constitution, which sets out the succession procedures in case of a temporary or permanent vacancy in the presidency? If, indeed, they had knowledge of the provisions of Article 43, then why did they interfere with what should have been a constitutionally mandated succession?

The international community has called on all sides in the Burkinabé political crisis to follow “constitutionally mandated” procedures for the transfer of power. The international community (especially the African Union) is asking the Burkina Faso military not to exploit the constitutional crisis for its own benefit but to respect the desire of the majority of Burkinabé for democracy and peaceful coexistence. That, of course, calls for respect by all Burkinabé, including the military, for the constitution.

The president’s resignation in itself did not create a constitutional crisis in Burkina Faso. The Constitution of 1991 specifically anticipates the resignation or incapacitation of the president and prescribes procedures for succession. According to Article 43, if the president is temporarily incapacitated and is incapable of carrying out his or her duties, “his powers shall be provisionally exercised by the Prime Minister.” As noted above, in this particular case, where the president has resigned and created a permanent vacancy in the presidency, the constitution states that the functions of the presidency should be performed by the president of the senate. [2] The military should not have intervened—military intervention in the country’s political system actually created what is fast becoming a major constitutional crisis. The military has suspended the constitution and, without the guidance provided by it, the military is now governing the country extra-constitutionally through decrees. The military can end this unfolding crisis by restoring the constitution and handing power back to a civilian regime, led, as prescribed by their constitution, by the president of the senate. The latter will, of course, serve as a transitional head of state until elections are completed in 2015 to select a permanent president. International organizations, including especially the African Union, support this approach—on November 3, 2014, the AU issued a statement asking the Burkinabé military to exit the political system and hand power to a civilian ruler.

But what about the riots and violence that had enveloped the city of Ouagadougou and were gradually spreading to other cities? Should the army not have been called upon to quell the riots and bring about peace? In virtually all countries, including Burkina Faso, the police—not the army—should be the institution enforcing the law and maintaining order. There is no indication that military intervention was necessary to bring the rioting under control or that it actually did. Most of the people participating in the riots voluntarily stopped their activities after the president resigned and left the country.

However, what the army did was interfere with the constitutional process and in doing so, actually created this constitutional crisis—shortly after declaring himself head of state and leader of the transition, Zida suspended the constitution, as noted above. Although Zida has assured the people that the military will strive to quickly return Burkina Faso to democratic governance, such guarantees appear hollow, especially given the military’s past history of intervention—every time the Burkinabé military has intervened in politics, it has remained in power for a very long time, 27 years in the case of the Campaoré-led intervention of 1987.

Article 43 of the Constitution of Burkina Faso also states that elections should be held between 60 and 90 days after a vacancy has been declared in the presidency. Zida, who is now the de facto head of state in Burkina Faso, has stated that his would be a transitional government and that it would seek input from all stakeholders to organize and undertake democratic elections to choose a new government. However, the constitution, which would have provided the necessary guidelines for carrying out such elections, has been suspended. In addition, he has closed the country’s borders and imposed a general curfew, which severely restricts the right of citizens to live freely. Such restrictions could have a significant impact on economic activities and negatively affect what is already a relatively fragile economy. These initial draconian and extra-constitutional measures do not augur well for an early exit of the military from politics and the return of constitutional rule to the country. If history teaches us anything about the military and Burkinabé politics, it is that this military, like the one that intervened in 1987, is likely to stay in politics much longer than the 90 days needed to elect a new civilian government.

[1], [2] This is in line with the constitutional amendment of June 11, 2012 (Loi No. 033-2012/AN du 1 juin 2012).

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The Nile River is one of the most important resources in Africa and supports the livelihoods of millions of people. Recently, though, efficient and equitable utilization of the waters of the Nile River has become an increasingly contentious issue, with many of the riparian countries demanding a revision of what they believe is an inappropriate legal regime. Currently, allocation and utilization of the waters of the Nile River is governed by the colonial-era Nile Waters Agreements, which were negotiated and entered into with the help of Great Britain, but without the participation of most of the river’s riparian states. These agreements allocated most of the waters of the Nile River to the downstream riparians—Egypt and Sudan—largely ignoring the development needs of the upstream riparians, like Ethiopia, whose highlands provide most of the water that flows into the Nile River. The upstream riparians contend that they were not party to the Nile Waters Agreements and thus should not be bound by them. As such, they want these agreements set aside and a new, more equitable legal regime. Egypt, however, considers the existing legal regime binding on all the Nile River riparian states and, thus, is opposed to any changes that might interfere with or reduce its “historically acquired rights.” Already the decision by Addis Ababa to proceed with the construction of the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam on the Blue Nile has caused significant deterioration in relations between Cairo and Addis Ababa.

With significant increases in population and pressure to deliver development, especially in the upstream riparian states, the demand for water has become a very important policy imperative in the region. In fact, earlier this year Egypt claimed that, in order to meet its growing water needs by 2050, it will need to add 21 billion cubic meters of water per year to its current water allocation of 55 billion cubic meters. Thus, there is a fear that if this issue is not fully resolved soon, it could morph into a military crisis.

In our new book, Governing the Nile River Basin: The Search for a New Legal Regime, we argue that the current legal regime governing the allocation and utilization of the waters of the Nile River is not tenable, and there is an urgent need for all the Nile River riparian states to enter into a mutually agreed upon legal regime. Issues pertaining to transboundary water resource management, the evolution of current agreements and the role and interests of colonial powers, theories of treaty succession, and the recent attempts by the riparian states to formulate a new legal agreement, are thoroughly examined. We conclude that the most effective way to deal with conflict arising from the allocation and utilization of the Nile River’s waters is for all the downstream and upstream riparians to engage in fresh negotiations to design and adopt a new legal regime. Through a fully consultative process, these countries can provide the Nile River Basin with a legal regime that enhances equitable allocation and utilization. 

On Monday, March 23, 2015, leaders of Egypt, Ethiopia, and Sudan met in the Sudanese capital Khartoum to sign an agreement that is expected to resolve various issues arising out of the decision by Ethiopia to construct a dam on the Blue Nile. The Khartoum declaration, which was signed by the heads of state of the three countries—Abdel Fattah al-Sisi (Egypt), Omar al-Bashir (Sudan), and Halemariam Desalegn (Ethiopia), has been referred to  as a “Nile Agreement,” and one that helps resolve conflicts over the sharing of the waters of the Nile River. However, this view is misleading because the agreement, as far we know, only deals with the Blue Nile’s Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam project (GERDP) and does not tackle the broader, still contentious issues of sharing of the Nile River waters among all riparian states. Thus, the new agreement does leave the conflict over the equitable, fair, and reasonable allocation and utilization of the waters of the Nile River unresolved.

As we celebrated Earth Day recently, it is important that we reflect upon the importance of natural resources such as the Nile and gain an understanding of why they are so important, especially for Africa and its long-term development. In fact, 160 million people rely on the waters of this important river for their livelihoods. Thus, preserving, maintaining, and using the waters and resources of the Nile River efficiently and sustainably is a goal shared by all.

These disagreements over the use of the Nile are not recent and, in fact, have a long history because of these countries’ high dependence on the waters of the Nile. In 1929, an agreement was concluded between Egypt and Great Britain regarding the utilization of the waters of the Nile River—Britain was supposedly representing its colonies in the Nile River Basin. [1] The Anglo-Egyptian Treaty covered many issues related to the Nile River and its tributaries. Of particular relevance to the present discussion is that it granted Egypt an annual water allocation of 48 billion cubic meters and Sudan 4 billion cubic meters out of an estimated average annual yield of 84 billion cubic meters. In addition, the 1929 agreement granted Egypt veto power over construction projects on the Nile River or any of its tributaries in an effort to minimize any interference with the flow of water into the Nile.

In 1959, Egypt and an independent Sudan signed a bilateral agreement, which effectively reinforced the provisions of the 1929 Anglo-Egyptian Treaty. The 1959 agreement increased water allocations to both Egypt and Sudan—Egypt’s water allocation was raised from 48 billion cubic meters to 55.5 billion cubic meters and Sudan’s from 4 billion cubic meters to 18.5 billion cubic meters, leaving 10 billion cubic meters to account for seepage and evaporation. Finally, the agreement stipulated that in the case of an increase in average water yield, the increased yield should be shared equally between the two downstream riparian states (i.e., Egypt and Sudan). The 1959 agreement, like the 1929 Anglo-Egyptian Treaty, did not make any allowance for the water needs of the other riparian states, including even Ethiopia, whose highlands supply more than 80 percent of the water that flows into the Nile River.

Over the years, especially as the populations of the other countries of the Nile River Basin have increased, and these countries have developed the capacity to more effectively harvest the waters of the Nile River for national development, disagreements have arisen over the fact that Egypt has insisted that the water rights it acquired through the 1929 and 1959 agreements (collectively referred to as the Nile Waters Agreements) be honored and that no construction project be undertaken on the Nile River or any of its tributaries without prior approval from Cairo. In fact, various Egyptian leaders have threatened to go to war to protect these so-called “acquired rights.” Upstream riparian states such as Kenya, Tanzania, Uganda, and Ethiopia, have argued that they are not bound by these agreements because they were never parties to them. In fact, shortly after independence from Great Britain in 1961, Tanganyika’s (now Tanzania, after union with Zanzibar in 1964) new leader, Julius Nyerere, argued that the Nile Waters Agreements placed his country and other upstream riparian states at Egypt’s mercy, forced them to subject their national development plans to the scrutiny and supervision of Cairo, and that such an approach to public policy would not be compatible with the country’s status as a sovereign independent state. All the upstream riparian states have since argued in favor of a new, more inclusive legal framework for governing the Nile River Basin.

In 1999, the Nile River riparian states, [1] except Eritrea, signed the Nile Basin Initiative (NBI) in an effort to enhance cooperation on the use of the “common Nile Basin water resources.” Under the auspices of the NBI, the riparian states began work on developing what they believed would be a permanent legal and institutional framework for governing the Nile River Basin. The Cooperative Framework Agreement (CFA), as this agreement is called, formally introduced the concept of equitable water allocation into discussions about Nile governance, as well as a complicating concept called “water security.”

The CFA was ready for signature beginning May 10, 2010; Burundi, Ethiopia, Kenya, Rwanda, Tanzania, and Uganda have signed it; and the Ethiopian parliament has ratified it. However, arguing that their “acquired rights” to the waters of the Nile River would not be protected, Egypt and Sudan immediately registered their intention not to sign the agreement because they objected to the wording of Article 14(b): “Nile Basin States therefore agree, in a spirit of cooperation: . . . (b) not to significantly affect the water security of any other Nile Basin State.” They then proposed an alternative wording for Article 14(b): “Nile Basin States therefore agree, in a spirit of cooperation: . . . (b) not to significantly affect the water security and current uses and rights of any other Nile Basin State,” (emphasis added). This wording was rejected by the upstream riparian states, who argue that “the current uses and rights” phrasing would entrench the concept of prior rights, including those created by the Nile Waters Agreements and effectively retain the inequity and unfairness that has characterized the allocation and utilization of water in the Nile River Basin since the 1920s.

On April 2, 2011, then-prime minister of Ethiopia, Meles Zenawi, laid the foundation for the construction of the Grand Ethiopia Renaissance Dam. The dam is located on the Blue Nile, in the Benishangul-Gumuz region of the country. Shortly after the announcement, authorities in Cairo immediately launched a campaign of words against what they believed was an attempt by Addis Ababa to interfere with Egypt’s water needs. Then Egyptian president, Mohamed Morsi, angrily stated that while he was not “calling for war” with Ethiopia, “Egypt’s water security cannot be violated at all,” that “all options are open,” and that Egyptians would not accept any projects on the Nile River that threatened their livelihood.

The 2015 agreement between Egypt, Ethiopia, and Sudan—with Sudan acting as an intermediary—represents an important but predictable shift in Cairo’s approach to the Nile River—that those colonial agreements are unsustainable. About 85 percent of the water that flows into the Nile River comes from the Ethiopian highlands through the Blue Nile; the rest comes from the White Nile. It was simply unrealistic and untenable for Egypt to believe that it could continue to prevent Ethiopia from using water resources located within its boundaries to meet the needs of its people. While it is true that Egyptians rely totally on the waters of the Nile River for all their needs, they must be sensitive to the development needs of the upstream riparian states, especially given the fact that the latter, particularly Ethiopia, are in a position to cause significant harm to the quantity and quality of water that flows into the Nile. Hence, the practical and more accommodating attitude taken by Egyptian leaders in their decision to endorse Addis Ababa’s Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam project (GERDP), should be welcomed. However, Cairo needs to go further and sign and ratify the CFA without insisting on changes to Article 14(b) to guarantee Egypt the rights created by the Nile Waters agreements. With the CFA in place, all 11 riparian states can negotiate in good faith to agree an allocation formula that is acceptable to all of them and considered fair, equitable, and reasonable. As Africa becomes more and more affected by climate change, the continent’s various groups must agree to cooperate in the development of institutional structures that can enhance their ability to live together peacefully and allocate their natural resources, including water, in a fair and sustainable manner.

Further reading

Mwangi S. Kimenyi & John Mukum Mbaku, Governing the Nile River Basin: The Search for a New Legal Regime (Washington, D.C.: The Brookings Institution, 2015).

[1] Ethiopia was not one of those colonies. The British colonies then included Kenya, Uganda, Tanganyika, and what was known as Anglo-Egyptian Sudan (a condominium under the control of Britain).

[2] The Nile River riparian states are Burundi, Democratic Republic of Congo, Egypt, Eritrea, Ethiopia, Kenya, Rwanda, South Sudan, Sudan (Republic of), Tanzania, and Uganda. Egypt, Sudan, and South Sudan are downstream riparian states. South Sudan, however, has indicated that it does not recognize the 1959 bilateral agreement between Egypt and Sudan.

The African Union (AU) will hold its 27th Heads of State Assembly in Kigali from July 17-18, 2016, as part of its ongoing annual meetings, during which time it will elect individuals to lead the AU Commission for the next four years. Given the fierce battle for the chairperson position in 2012; and  as the AU has increasingly been called upon to assume more responsibility for various issues that affect the continent—from the Ebola pandemic that ravaged West Africa in 2013-14 to civil wars in several countries, including Libya, Central African Republic, and South Sudan, both the AU Commission and its leadership have become very important and extremely prestigious actors. The upcoming elections are not symbolic: They are about choosing trusted and competent leaders to guide the continent in good times and bad.

The African Union (AU) [1] came into being on July 9, 2002 and was established to replace the Organization of African Unity (OAU). The AU’s highest decisionmaking body is the Assembly of the African Union, which consists of all the heads of state and government of the member states of the AU. The chairperson of the assembly is the ceremonial head of the AU and is elected by the Assembly of Heads of State to serve a one-year term. This assembly is currently chaired by President Idriss Déby of Chad.

The AU’s secretariat is called the African Union Commission [2] and is based in Addis Ababa. The chairperson of the AU Commission is the chief executive officer, the AU’s legal representative, and the accounting officer of the commission. The chairperson is directly responsible to the AU’s Executive Council. The current chairperson of the AU Commission is Dr. Nkosazana Dlamini Zuma of South Africa and is assisted by a deputy chairperson, who currently is Erastus Mwencha of Kenya.

Dr. Zuma has decided not to seek a second term in office and, hence, this position is open for contest. The position of deputy chairperson will also become vacant, since Mwencha is not eligible to serve in the new commission.

Notably, the position of chairperson of the AU Commission does not only bring prestige and continental recognition to the person that is elected to serve but also to the country and region from which that person hails. Already, the Southern African Development Community (SADC), Dr. Zuma’s region, is arguing that it is entitled to another term since she has decided not to stand for a second. Other regions, such as eastern and central Africa, have already identified their nominees. It is also rumored that some regions have already initiated diplomatic efforts to gather votes for their preferred candidates.

In April 2016, SADC chose Botswana’s minister of foreign affairs, Dr. Pelonomi Venson-Moitoi, as its preferred candidate. Nevertheless, experts believe that even if South Africa flexes its muscles to support Venson-Moitoi’s candidacy (which it is most likely to do), it is not likely to succeed this time because Botswana has not always supported the AU on critical issues, such as the International Criminal Court, and hence, does not have the goodwill necessary to garner the support for its candidate among the various heads of state.

Venson-Moitoi is expected to face two other candidates—Dr. Specioza Naigaga Wandira Kazibwe of Uganda (representing east Africa) and Agapito Mba Mokuy of Equatorial Guinea (representing central Africa). Although Mokuy is relatively unknown, his candidacy could be buoyed by the argument that a Spanish-speaking national has never held the chairperson position, as well as the fact that, despite its relatively small size, Equatorial Guinea—and its president, Teodoro Obiang Nguema—has given significant assistance to the AU over the years. Obiang Nguema’s many financial and in-kind contributions to the AU could endear his country and its candidate to the other members of the AU.

In fact, during his long tenure as president of Equatorial Guinea, Obiang Nguema has shown significant interest in the AU, has attended all assemblies, and has made major contributions to the organization. In addition to the fact that Equatorial Guinea hosted AU summits in 2011 and 2014, Obiang Nguema served as AU chairperson in 2011. Thus, a Mokuy candidacy for the chairperson of the AU Commission could find favor among those who believe it would give voice to small and often marginalized countries, as well as members of the continent’s Spanish-speaking community. Finally, the opinion held by South Africa, one of the continent’s most important and influential countries, on several issues (from the political situation in Burundi to the International Criminal Court and its relations with Africa) appears closer to that of Equatorial Guinea’s than Botswana’s.

Of course, both Venson-Moitoi and Kazibwe are seasoned civil servants with international and administrative experience and have the potential to function as an effective chairperson. However, the need to give voice within the AU to the continent’s historically marginalized regions could push Mokuy’s candidacy to the top.

Nevertheless, supporters of a Mokuy candidacy may be worried that accusations of corruption and repression labeled on Equatorial Guinea by the international community could negatively affect how their candidate is perceived by voters.

Also important to voters is their relationship with former colonial powers. In fact, during the last election, one argument that helped defeat then-Chairperson Jean Ping was that both he and his (Gabonese) government were too pro-France. This issue may not be a factor in the 2016 elections, though: Equatorial Guinea, Uganda, and Botswana are not considered to be extremely close to their former colonizers.

Finally, gender and regional representation should be important considerations for the voters who will be called upon to choose a chairperson for the AU Commission. Both Venson-Moitoi and Kazibwe are women, and the election of either of them would continue to support diversity within African leadership. Then again, Mr. Mokuy’s election would enhance regional and small-state representation.

Also open for contest are the portfolios of Peace and Security, Political Affairs, Infrastructure and Energy, Rural Economy and Agriculture, Human Resources, and Science and Technology. Many countries are vying for these positions on the commission in an effort to ensure that their status within the AU is not marginalized. For example, Nigeria and Algeria, both of which are major regional leaders, are competing to capture the position of commissioner of Peace and Security. Algeria is keen to keep this position: It has held this post over the last decade, and, if it loses this position, it would not have any representation on the next commission—significantly diminishing the country’s influence in the AU.

Nigeria’s decision to contest the position of commissioner of Peace and Security is based on the decision by the administration of President Muhammadu Buhari to give up the leadership of Political Affairs. Historically, Nigeria has been unwilling to compete openly against regional powers for leadership positions in the continent’s peace and security area. Buhari’s decision to contest the portfolio of Peace and Security is very risky, since a loss to Algeria and the other contesting countries will leave Nigeria without a position on the commission and would be quite humiliating to the president and his administration.

Since the AU came into being in 2002, there has been an unwritten rule that regional powers (e.g., Algeria, Kenya, Nigeria, South Africa) should not lead or occupy key positions in the AU’s major institutions. Thus, when Dr. Zuma was elected in 2012, South Africa was severely criticized, especially by some smaller African countries, for breaking that rule. The hope, especially of the non-regional leaders, is that the 2016 election will represent a return to the status quo ante since most of the candidates for the chairperson position hail from small- and medium-sized countries.

While professional skills and international experience are critical for an individual to serve on the commission, the AU is quite concerned about the geographical distribution of leadership positions, as well as the representation of women on the commission, as noted above. In fact, the commission’s statutes mandate that each region present two candidates (one female and the other male) for every portfolio. Article 6(3) of the commission’s statutes states that “[a]t least one Commissioner from each region shall be a woman.” Unfortunately, women currently make up only a very small proportion of those contesting positions in the next commission. Thus, participants must keep in mind the need to create a commission that reflects the continent’s diversity, especially in terms of gender and geography.

Individuals that have served in government and/or worked for an international organization dominate leadership positions in the commission. Unfortunately, individuals representing civil society organizations are poorly represented on the nominee lists; unsurprisingly, given the fact that the selection process is controlled by civil servants from states and regional organizations. Although this approach to the staffing of the commission guarantees the selection of skilled and experienced administrators, it could burden the commission with the types of bureaucratic problems that are common throughout the civil services of the African countries, notably, rigidity, tunnel vision, and the inability, or unwillingness to undertake bold and progressive initiatives.

The AU currently faces many challenges, some of which require urgent and immediate action and others, which can only be resolved through long-term planning. For example, the fight against terrorism and violent extremism, and securing the peace in South Sudan, Burundi, Libya, and other states and regions consumed by violent ethno-cultural conflict require urgent and immediate action from the AU. Issues requiring long-term planning by the AU include helping African countries improve their governance systems, strengthening the African Court of Justice and Human Rights, facilitating economic integration, effectively addressing issues of extreme poverty and inequality in the distribution of income and wealth, responding effectively and fully to pandemics, and working towards the equitable allocation of water, especially in urban areas.

Finally, there is the AU’s dependence on foreign aid for its financing. When Dr. Dlamini Zuma took over as chairperson of the AU Commission in 2012, she was quite surprised by the extent to which the AU depends on budget subventions from international donors and feared that such dependence could interfere with the organization’s operations. The AU budget for 2016 is $416,867,326, of which $169,833,340 (40 percent) is assessed on Member States and $247,033,986 (59 percent) is to be secured from international partners.  The main foreign donors are the United States, Canada, China, and the European Union.

Within Africa, South Africa, Angola, Nigeria, and Algeria are the best paying rich countries. Other relatively rich countries, Egypt, Libya, Sudan, and Cameroon, are struggling to pay. Libya’s civil war and its inability to form a permanent government is interfering with its ability to meet its financial obligations, even to its citizens. Nevertheless, it is hoped that South Africa, Nigeria, Angola, Egypt, and Libya, the continent’s richest countries, are expected to eventually meet as much as 60% of the AU’s budget and help reduce the organization’s continued dependence on international donors. While these major continental and international donors are not expected to have significant influence on the elections for leadership positions on the AU Commission, they are likely to remain a determining factor on the types of programs that the AU can undertake.

Dealing fully and effectively with the multifarious issues that plague the continent requires AU Commission leadership that is not only well-educated and skilled, but that has the foresight to help the continent develop into an effective competitor in the global market and a full participant in international affairs. In addition to helping the continent secure the peace and provide the enabling environment for economic growth and the creation of wealth, this crop of leaders should provide the continent with the leadership necessary to help states develop and adopt institutional arrangements and governing systems that guarantee the rule of law, promote the protection of human rights, and advance inclusive economic growth and development.

[1] The AU consists of all the countries on the continent and in the United Nations, except the Kingdom of Morocco, which left the AU after the latter recognized the Sahrawi Arab Democratic Republic (Western Sahara). Morocco claims that the Western Sahara is part of its territory.

[2] The AU Commission is made up of a number of commissioners who deal with various policy areas, including peace and security, political affairs, infrastructure and energy, social affairs, trade and industry, rural economy and agriculture, human resources, science and technology, and economic affairs. According to Article 3 of its Statutes, the Commission is empowered to “represent the Union and defend its interests under the guidance of and as mandated by the Assembly and Executive Council.”