Reflections on the 1996 Sierra Leone Peace Accord

by Yusuf Bangura

Introduction

This paper was written in early January 1997, about one month after the signing of the Sierra Leone peace accord. The legitimate government that signed the agreement with the Revolutionary United Front (RUF) was overthrown on 25 May 1997. The other key signatory to the agreement, the rebel leader Foday Sankoh, had earlier been detained in Nigeria in March 1997. His detention coincided with a major split in the RUF, which was to have grave consequences for the peace agreement. Before his arrest, Sankoh had refused to send representatives to the critical demobilization and disarmament committee, thereby undermining the work of the Peace Commission and making it difficult for the government to proceed with the disarmament process. He also refused to meet with UN representatives in Côte d’Ivoire, and opposed the decision to send a 720-member United Nations peacekeeping force to help secure the peace. He called instead for a smaller force of 50-60 members.

The Freetown-based RUF members on the Peace Commission, which was set up to direct the work of the provisions of the peace accord, seemed keen to end the war and declared their support for the new leader of the RUF, Phillip Palmer. The accord could not be implemented however, as Palmer’s leadership was contested by the bush commanders of the RUF who declared their loyalty to Sankoh. There were renewed conflicts between the RUF and the Kamajoi militia on one hand, and between the Kamajoi militia and the Sierra Leone army on the other. The latter had become very unpopular among rural people who accused it of collaborating with the RUF in destabilizing the countryside. The military coup of 25 May confirmed the alliance between the RUF and the military as both groups announced a new so-called joint “people’s army.” Sankoh was invited to serve as the deputy leader, and several members of the RUF bush fighters were given posts in the new junta, the Armed Forces Revolutionary Council.

The rule of the AFRC was resolutely resisted by the vast majority of Sierra Leoneans, the international community and the Economic Community of Western States, which under Nigeria’s leadership extended the mandate of its peace enforcement force in Liberia, ECOMOG (Economic Community of West African States monitoring group), to Sierra Leone. A comprehensive embargo was imposed on the regime by the United Nations, and ECOMOG was mandated in collaboration with the ousted government to police it. After a series of negotiations between ECOMOG and the junta, including a peace accord in Conakry (Guinea), failed to yield positive results, ECOMOG spectacularly ousted the junta from the seat of power on 12 February after only six days of combat. The legitimate government was reinstated in office on 10 March 1998.

The issues raised in the Sierra Leone peace accord have relevance for wider debates on war, peace, reconciliation and human rights. The article examines the constraints to, and the opportunities associated with, implementation of the peace accord within the context of a democratizing, war-torn society—the type that was in place before the armed seizure of power by the military and the RUF.

Background

The signing of the peace accord in Abidjan (Côte d’Ivoire) on 30 November 1996 between the government of Sierra Leone and the Revolutionary United Front (RUF) marked the official ending of Sierra Leone’s five and a half years of war. The war, which ravaged much of the countryside, killed more than 20,000 civilians and left hundreds of innocent bystanders maimed and traumatized. It also displaced almost one and a half million people from their homes and livelihoods, orphaned thousands of young children, and imposed financial and social burdens on much of the relatively stable population. One major consequence of the war, which post-war reconstruction efforts will have to tackle very quickly and decisively, was the transformation of the country from a predominantly rural society into pockets of dense urban settlements. Medium-sized provincial towns such as Bo, Kenema, Makeni and Koidu suddenly became large urban settlements as villagers sought refuge in them. And the capital, Freetown, could well have grown from a pre-war population of roughly half a million people to one million—if not more.

In this article I will attempt to review the Abidjan Peace Accord. What did the accord offer Sierra Leone? What were its strengths and limitations? Who were the key actors likely to gain or lose from its implementation? Is it likely to provide sustainable peace? Finally, what steps could be taken to ensure that the basic commitments made by the combatants to consolidate the peace are honoured and implemented without much friction and delay?

Summary of the Accord

In the accord, which contained 28 articles and a short annex, both sides to the conflict agreed to end the war “with immediate effect” to ensure that “a total cessation of hostilities is observed forthwith” and to give “the establishment and consolidation of a just peace” priority (Articles 1 and 2). A National Commission for the Consolidation of Peace was to have been established “within two weeks of the signing of [the] agreement” to monitor implementation of the provisions.

The peace commission was to establish, coordinate and facilitate the work of six new bodies: a Socio-Economic Forum, Citizens’ Consultative Conferences, A Multi-Partisan Council, a Trust Fund for the Consolidation of Peace, a Demobilization and Resettlement Committee, and a National Budget and Debt Committee (Art. 3). The peace commission was to have tremendous powers in the pursuit of its mandate. For example, it had the power to organize its work “in the manner in which it deems most appropriate” and to make its findings public. It was also to be provided with an office, “adequate communication facilities and adequate secretariat support” to carry out its duties; it could make recommendations on measures to help the implementation and development of the provisions of the agreement; prepare “preliminary legislative drafts” necessary for the implementation of the agreement; and inspect “any activity or site” linked to the implementation of the accord. In addition no action could be taken by the government or RUF on any matter relating to the accord without consulting the commission. Both the government and the RUF “undertake to comply with the conclusions of the Commission” (Art. 3).

The proposed trust fund was to provide funding for the implementation of the Accord (Art. 3). Yearly Citizens’ Consultative Conferences were to be organized to ensure popular participation in the national political process (Art. 4). Combatants were to be disarmed in designated assembly zones, and their demobilization and reintegration into society were to be done “as soon as practicable” after the disarmament (Art. 5). The government and the commission, assisted by the international community, were entrusted with the responsibility to look after the welfare of encamped combatants (Art. 5). The Demobilization and Resettlement Committee was to “co-ordinate the encampment, disarmament, demobilization and resettlement of the RUF/SL combatants” (Art. 6). Combatants were to be in the assembly zones—to be identified by the Demobilization Committee—not later than three months from the signing of the accord (Art. 7).

The international community was asked “to help supervise and monitor the encampment, disarmament, demobilization and reintegration processes.” A Joint Monitoring Group (JMG), comprising representatives of the government and the RUF, was to observe the work of these activities at all stages (Art. 8). In addition, a Neutral Monitoring Group (NMG) from the international community, which was to be deployed for an initial period of three months, was responsible for monitoring breaches of the ceasefire (Art. 11). The peace commission was, “as a priority,” to make recommendations on the restructuring of the military. RUF combatants who wished to enlist in the national army “can become part of the new unified armed forces within a framework to be discussed and agreed upon by the Commission” (Art. 10). The South African mercenary outfit Executive Outcomes (EO) was to be withdrawn “five weeks after the deployment of the NMG,” confined to barracks and supervised by the JMG and NMG (Art. 12). Other foreign troops were to be repatriated not later than three months after the deployment of the NMG “or six months after the signing of the Agreement, whichever is earlier” (Art. 12).

The RUF was to be allowed to register as a political movement within 30 days of the signing of the accord (Art. 13), and the International Community was to be approached to contribute resources to a trust fund to help the RUF transform itself into a political party (Art. 17). No judicial action was to be taken against “any member of the RUF/SL in respect of anything done by them in pursuit of their objectives as members of that organization up to the time of the signing of [the] Agreement.” Furthermore, legislative and other measures were to be taken to ensure that RUF combatants and political exiles would enjoy their full civil and political rights within the framework of the law (Art. 14). The mandate of the existing National Unity and Reconciliation Commission was to be expanded to help heal the wounds of the war, and to promote civic education, national unity and reconciliation (Art. 15). An Ombudsman was to be created to raise the standards of accountability, probity and integrity in the public service (Art. 16). There was to be a reform of the electoral system to ensure full participation of citizens and their organizations in the political process, and the independence and integrity of the National Electoral Commission (NEC). The RUF, the government and other political parties were to nominate people of “professionalism, integrity and objectivity” to the NEC not later than three months after the signing of the accord. No member of NEC was to be eligible to hold political office in “any government formed as a result of an election they were mandated to conduct” (Art. 18).

The government and the RUF agreed to respect the basic civil and political liberties of all individuals as enshrined in international declarations of the UN and the Organization of African Unity (OAU) and the principles and rules of international humanitarian law, and to release all political prisoners and prisoners of war (Arts. 19 and 21). An independent National Commission on Human Rights was to be established to promote human rights education, monitor violations and institute legal proceedings where appropriate. It was to seek technical and material assistance from the UN Special Commission on Human Rights, the UN Centre for Human Rights (now the Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights), and the African Commission on Human and People’s Rights (Art. 20). The independence of the judiciary was to be strengthened, and the existing Judicial and Legal Service Commission was to be reconstituted to help defend the independence of the judiciary from both the state and political parties. Representatives from the lay public were to be appointed to join judges, other legal officers and civil servants who already constituted the Legal Commission (Art. 24). There was to be a review and re-orientation of the police force in order to deepen its professionalism and respect for the rule of law and to protect it from political, ideological and social pressures. Furthermore, the police council was to draw its membership from a broad section of society to ensure that it upheld its “truly civilian and non-partisan character” (Art. 25).

In the pursuit of the goals of reconstruction, rehabilitation and development, special attention was to be given to “rural and urban poor areas, war victims, disabled persons and other vulnerable groups” (Art. 22). The values of grassroots participation, the empowerment of rural communities and the urban poor in productive activities and decision-making processes, and the equitable distribution of national resources would inform the socio-economic policy of the country. A broad-based Socio-Economic Forum was to be responsible for the elaboration and pursuit of improving the quality of life of the population (Art. 26 and 27). The government of Côte d’Ivoire, the UN, the OAU and the Commonwealth were to act as “moral guarantors” to the accord (Art. 28). The annex of the accord called for a nationwide sensitization programme, which would inform the public about the reality of the end of hostilities, the reasons for demobilization, the opportunities for reintegration of combatants, and the need for reconciliation. This programme was to be pursued by both the government and the RUF.

A Power-Sharing Model?

In many ways the accord represented a variant of the power-sharing model, which has emerged as a standard mechanism for rebuilding societies that are sharply polarized and torn apart by unwinnable wars. The power sharing model is informed by two important characteristics: the main parties to armed conflicts operate from a position of relative weakness, which demands an active role for external facilitators, financiers and guarantors. These should be neutral, firm and effective in helping the actors to convert their “weak-weak” situations into “win-win” outcomes. The Abidjan Accord embodied these two characteristics.

As we have seen, the accord also made very liberal references to the role of the international community, which was expected to help with funding and monitoring of the agreement and the ceasefire. Given the destructive effects of the war on the country’s productive structures and revenue base, and the weakening of its national institutions, the combatants had no alternative but to turn to the international community for assistance to end the war and rebuild the country. The United Nations Development Programme (UNDP) and other UN organizations, the OAU, the Commonwealth secretariat, key Western countries, the Red Cross, Nigeria and Côte d’Ivoire played active, supportive roles.

The accord differed from other well known power-sharing agreements since the RUF was not given any post in the government, did not enjoy any representation in parliament, and was not in charge of any local government, district or province. The main reason for this difference is the unique character of Sierra Leone’s road to peace. Unlike many previously authoritarian war-torn countries that were forced to establish extensive power sharing arrangements, Sierra Leone had successfully organized multi-party elections in February 1996 without the participation of the RUF. Those elections brought in a new government, which was not associated with the causes of the war.

The Abidjan accord had to take into account the existence of a functioning constitution, and a pluralistic parliament and government, all of which enjoyed wide popular legitimacy. Thus the accord gave equal authority and treatment to the RUF and the government on matters relating to war and peace, but not to wider issues of politics and governance, where the government is expected to have much leverage.

Gains of the Revolutionary United Front

Perhaps the biggest winner in the accord was the RUF. It is a movement that waged brutal war on Sierra Leoneans for more than five years without ever administering a key territory (apart from the brief takeover of Koidu and Pujehun), and whose leaders should (under normal circumstances) be facing a war crimes tribunal. Instead they were given enormous opportunities by a democratically-elected government and the international community to redeem themselves as civilized people with a genuine cause to pursue. In fact, the accord sought to rescue the RUF from its position of weakness and isolation. As we have seen, the RUF was to not only play major roles in the newly created institutions, the NEC and the proposed new army, it was to be immune from all legal charges for its brutalization of rural people and other obnoxious acts of war. It was also to be given funds to set itself up as an effective political party.

It was the responsibility of the government, political parties and civic and community groups to ensure that the RUF did not maximize its potential gains in the accord. This could be achieved by playing the democratic game fairly, checking state and opposition party excesses, and ensuring that the basic economic and social problems of the poor, especially those of the youth, are concretely addressed.

Gains of the Government

Government also stood to gain a lot from the accord. The net effect of the war was a sharp drop in government revenues and the collapse of social services and basic infrastructure. The war also sucked away much of the limited revenue that was still accruing to government as the size of the army and its various needs and demands expanded. The accord gave the government the opportunity to focus on its very ambitious programme of reconstruction and development, which it unveiled to the public in June 1996 and which fed into the medium-term reconstruction plan that formed the basis for the pledge of US$212 million by donors in the Geneva donors’ meeting in September 1996. The accord was also likely to boost the government’s chances of raising funds from the international community for its reconstruction and development programme.

Compared to the RUF, which was given legitimate access to public institutions by the provisions of the accord, the government as government did not gain anything new on the issue of participation in political institutions. Indeed, many of the articles of the agreement acted as a constraint on the power of government to act unilaterally. However, RUF participation in the institutions that were to govern the peace process allowed the government to monitor and regulate the behaviour of RUF members much more than it was able to do before the agreement was signed.

New Opportunities for the Public?

If the accord would have been implemented to the letter, the public would have reaped a lot of benefits from the peace process: it offered the public the opportunity to focus on rebuilding their lives and homes and recreating disarticulated or deformed markets and productive systems.

There were also concrete provisions in the agreement that were promising for the Sierra Leone public. The first was the commitment of government, through the accord, to reform the country’s electoral system and to strengthen the autonomy and integrity of the National Electoral Commission. In a society with deep social cleavages, pluralism in both legislative and executive branches of government is important as a mechanism for minimizing violent conflicts. Under this arrangement, all major groups and sections of society would be represented, through the dominant political parties, in both parliament and government by right rather than as a result of the goodwill of the government in power.

Also, I suggest that the idea of a run-off election to choose a single leader be changed to allow parties that score a certain percentage of the popular vote in the first and only round of the presidential elections the opportunity to be represented in government. Under this model, the president would be given the authority to discuss appointments with the parties concerned and to dismiss ministers who, in his or her judgment, have failed to perform satisfactorily. President Kabbah, as a great conciliator, already practiced this model in an informal way with the parliamentary parties that decided to work with the government. The procedure needs to be institutionalized to give it much broader scope.

A plural executive system has the advantage of protecting ordinary people from the excesses of politicians. Our post-independence history—African history generally—is littered with politicians without a vision of the national interest or lacking commitment to the causes of the poor. Politicians have always used the poor to get into power and to turn that power against the poor when they are in office. Political parties have shown a limited imagination when devising programmes of governance and development. Also, given the unquestioned hegemony that international institutions currently enjoy in the policy spaces of these countries, it is better to minimize the violence that political parties are likely to inflict on the poor in the competition for power. This is preferable to banking on the possibility that these parties will pursue innovative pro-poor policies that will be different from the reigning development orthodoxy and what ruling parties in government are already pursuing.

The truth of the matter is that none of the parties outside of government have the capacity to develop coherent and effective policies that would address the key challenges that confront us today as a nation. The parties in government have been able to work out reasonably coherent development programmes because they are in government, and not because of any superiority they enjoy in the realm of ideas over opposition parties. Minimizing the propensity for violence that is embedded in winner-takes-all elections will allow the poor, disadvantaged and other deprived social groups the space they require to exert pressure on public institutions and to develop themselves “autonomously” vis-à-vis entrenched vested interests. Poor or rural people should not shed an additional ounce of blood for the privileges of politicians and so-called “revolutionaries.”

The National Electoral Commission was at the centre of the debate on the promised electoral reforms. The accord’s affirmation of the need to strengthen the professional integrity and competence of the NEC should be applauded. The decision to bar NEC members from holding political office in a government “formed as a result of an election they were mandated to conduct” was also very much in order.

It is also important to point out potential dangers that would have affected the professionalism of the NEC if all political parties would have been asked to nominate members to that body (Art. 18). While there was value in having a broad-based professional membership in the NEC to check for possible governmental biases, it would have been important to give NEC officials absolute autonomy in running the organization. In addition, political parties, the press and civic and community groups should have had the right to inspect at any time the records and activities of the NEC, and to appoint individuals of their choice to NEC offices to monitor the activities of the organization on a full-time basis.

A second area in which the accord was likely to provide opportunities to the public is in the commitments made in Article 26, which dealt with socio-economic development. Indeed, full implementation of the provisions in this article would have constituted a solid guarantee against future wars. Most of the issues reflected existing commitments at the international level. The government upheld these when it participated in the 1995 World Summit for Social Development. It is useful and refreshing to note that a renewed commitment was made at the national level by the government to pursue these vital objectives, which likely would have changed the quality of life for the poor. Civic groups, the press and the interested public could have ensured that the proposed Socio-Economic Forum “had teeth” and was not just a “talking shop.” Work could have proceeded immediately to flesh out the details of the ten-point plan of social development in Article 26 to provide quantitative and qualitative data on the problems to be combated, and to set time frames for implementation of agreed policies.

Third, the commitment to restructure the army opened up possibilities to address in very serious ways the security needs and defence structure of the country. The war demonstrated that our modern standing army was incapable of providing the necessary security to the people when it was most essential for it to do so. Indeed, there were many reports that implicated some soldiers in the brutalization of people in the countryside and in the looting of private property. Some of them also tried to violently disrupt the February 1996 elections. The greatest indictment of our military was when a mercenary force, Executive Outcomes, was brought in by an army leader himself to boost security! The government and the public should seize the initiative to organize debates, workshops and conferences on the future of Sierra Leone’s security system. The ideas of those calling for a national security system that respects the local needs of communities need to be seriously taken up in debates about the restructuring of the army. I think that it is quite possible to think of a security system without a large standing army. Our traditional defence systems, in which able-bodied men and women are taught basic methods of defence, the secrets of the forest, community traditions and values, and who could be mobilized at short notice in periods of external attack, is worth thinking through to see how they could be adapted to modern conditions. Also, a properly functioning security system that enjoys some degree of local accountability will make it extremely difficult to plan or carry out coups, and it will deter small pockets of invaders before a bigger force is mobilized to support them.

The fourth potential gain for the public was the accord’s attempt to check unlimited governmental or state power. Even though the blunting of governmental power is restricted only to a few set of institutions, the accord introduced an innovation in Sierra Leone politics. It explicitly stated that the government cannot act independently of the peace commission; and the government is obligated to accept the conclusions of the commission—in other words, it would not have had the freedom to issue a White Paper in which it could accept or reject some of the conclusions. Furthermore, it would have had to negotiate with other parties the nomination of individuals to the National Electoral Commission; it would have had to respect the autonomy of the NEC; it would have had to uphold the independence of the judiciary and broaden the membership of the Judicial and Legal Service Commission; it would have had to review the character of the police force to make it truly non-partisan; and it would have had to grant the various parties free access to government-owned media. In addition, there were a number of provisions, such as the proposed Socio-Economic Forum, the Multi-Partisan Council, the National Budget and Debt Committee, and the Citizens’ Consultative Conferences, that would have had the potential to deepen the process of power-sharing and open up governmental activities to public scrutiny and accountability. This potential limitation of governmental or state power may have constituted a positive force for democracy, if the civic public could have capitalized on the changes and ensure that they were replicated in other vital areas of public policy and institutions.

Some Vital Omissions in the Accord

Even though, on balance, the accord had great potential for fostering a durable peace, there were some vital omissions that are worth considering. First, the failure to provide a time frame for various aspects of the work of the Peace Commission was likely to create problems in the future.

Second, the accord said nothing about the absolutely essential problem of atrocities. Given the high levels of atrocities that this war produced, this should be seen as a serious omission. Given the fact that Article 14 gave the RUF absolute immunity from any prosecution for its war activities, the accord should at least have made the effort to balance this provision with the need for a “truth commission.” Our society cannot make progress in the area of human rights if we do not squarely face these atrocities and try to understand why people who claim to be liberating or defending society from oppression and exploitation had to slit the throats of innocent villagers, sever their heads, cut their hands, pluck their eyes out, disembowel pregnant women, abduct and rape women, burn down whole villages, and enlist children as young as ten years of age in war.

Third, despite the high costs of the war on the bodies, personal security, livelihoods and assets of women, the accord, like most other power-sharing agreements around the world, was silent on the rights and interests of women. It is amazing to note that the word “women” failed to occur in any of the 28 articles and annex of the accord—it was completely gender-blind. The potentially powerful Peace Commission did not even have a single woman. Yet, evidence from social psychology and peace research suggests that women have a comparative advantage over men in matters related to peace. As guardians of the care economy and as people who are adept at dealing with centuries-old structures of male domination in various social contexts, women often have much better insights and values to promote the cause of peace. Women, to paraphrase the eminent peace researcher Johan Galtung, are not “naturally” disposed or socially conditioned to play with metals. The women’s movement, which played a major role in sending soldiers from the State House to the barracks and in the tireless campaign for peace, should seize the initiative to make their presence felt in peace-building institutions and to influence the allocation of the resources available for reconstruction, resettlement and development.

Fourth, it is surprising to note that the accord made no reference to the Kamajors or civil defence forces, who are made up of traditional rural people, in any of its provisions including the ones dealing with encampment, disarmament, demobilization and reintegration. Those who played invaluable roles in defending and reclaiming villages are obviously entitled to compensation as part of the peace package. With proper training and organization, they could indeed form a nucleus of the proposed programme for nationally coordinated local defence systems.

Fifth, despite the laudable goals of equity, grassroots participation and the anti-poverty thrust of the accord, no attempt was made to address the problem that the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund (IMF) were likely to have on implementation of specific provisions, especially the socio-economic plan of Article 26. Redressing the wrongs of the war would require massive levels of state and community level intervention, reform of public sector institutions and pragmatic use of market and other value-allocating mechanisms. This is likely to question the neoliberal dogma of unfettered markets, with which the international financial institutions have been associated in their structural adjustment programmes in Africa and elsewhere. In war-torn Mozambique sympathetic and influential donor countries, the UN and to some extent the World Bank had to prevail on the IMF in 1996 to relax its very tight targets on monetary and fiscal aggregates or levels of budget deficits, which would have had very negative effects on the fragile programme of post-war reconstruction and the development of competent and motivated individuals in the public bureaucracy. An independent policy advisory group on the Sierra Leone economy could have helped to provide civic groups, government and other political parties with the technical knowledge required to stand up to the IMF and the World Bank in the implementation of Article 26.

The sixth and final point of omission concerns the problems that were likely to arise if there was a deadlock in the peace commission. The eight-person team that was to have run the commission was equally divided between the government and the RUF. There was no provision that spelt out how to resolve major differences of interpretation of the articles in the accord if they occurred, nor how to replace members who may have been found to be unsuitable for the tasks of the commission. Indeed, as we have already noted, the commission enjoyed much autonomy in the discharge of its duties. It could have been assumed that government or the RUF may have changed their own nominees in the commission if they so wished, but it seems that neither party had the power to change the nominees of the others. Also, there was no reference to the judicial system as an institution of last resort for resolving acts of misdemeanours or differences that were likely to affect the performance of the commission. The commission was expected to consult with both the RUF and the government at the highest levels of decision making in carrying out its activities, but there was no guarantee that potentially intractable quarrels in the commission could have been resolved at these political levels. A recalcitrant set of RUF representatives could have made life extremely difficult for the commission if they chose to do so. The government and the public would have benefited from efforts that would have linked issues of adjudication of differences in the implementation of the accord to the proposed strategies of strengthening the independence of our judicial system, as articulated in Article 24.

A longer version of this article previously appeared in “Reflections on the Abidjan Peace Accord” in Africa Development, Vol. xxii, Numbers 3 and 4, published in 1997 by the Council for the Development of Social Science Research in Africa, based in Senegal.