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.

Dear South Sudan's Leaders:

Today, the country that all of you and your fellow citizens fought to establish is at a crossroads. And you, the country’s leaders, are now standing at the proverbial “fork in the road.” The question now is: Which road will each of you take? Your choice will determine not only your place in history but will significantly impact the future of your shared country, its diverse peoples and your neighbors. Each of you can choose to chase after personal power, primitive accumulation, and self-enrichment—using the ethnic group that you belong to as a foundation for that quest. This disastrous decision would plunge your country further into violent and destructive mobilization, effectively shutting the door to the type of state formation that is undergirded by a desire to achieve national integration, peaceful coexistence and sustainable development. Alternatively, each of you can opt to maximize a different value, one that places you among the world’s greatest leaders—that is, those who, when they came to the fork in the road, chose to lead their people down the road of opportunities for peaceful coexistence, prosperity and liberty.

As the citizens of South Sudan watch and wait in utter fear and disgust, it is time for you, the country’s leaders, to decide whether you want to lead them into a future filled with unending violence, hunger, and desolation, or into one where all of the country’s various peoples, regardless of their ethnic or religious affiliation, gender, and economic status, can live together peacefully and pursue their values and interests without molestation from others.

In the early 1990s, Nelson Mandela and his compatriots found themselves at a similar crossroads. They chose not to act opportunistically and retreat to their various ethnic enclaves.  Like the great leaders that history has proven them to be, they knew that, as apparently beneficial as such an option would have been to them, they would have plunged their country into an abyss from which it was unlikely to recover anytime soon. Instead, they chose the road that led them and their country to the type of state formation that is undergirded by institutional arrangements that provide an enabling environment for wealth creation and economic growth. That is why, today, the country that they founded has one of the world’s most progressive and human-rights friendly constitutions.

South Sudan is a new and relatively underdeveloped country, but it has the potential to emerge as a highly developed and peaceful one. However, in order for that potential to be fully exploited and used effectively to enhance development, the latter must be provided with institutional arrangements that guarantee the rule of law.

To you, the leaders of this new country: All of you can gracefully exit the scene, serve as elder statesmen, and provide the country’s new crop of leaders with the type of advice and support that can help the country successfully emerge from its violent and destructive past, as well as chart a path towards peace, sustainable economic growth and development, and equitable and fair allocation of national resources.

How will history judge you? As tyrants, opportunists, despots, exploiters, and oppressors, who used their public positions to grab power and riches for themselves or as public servants who spearheaded and led the transformative processes that brought peace, security, and development to their country? The choice is yours.

Posterity will judge you well, but only if you choose wisely!

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).

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.”