Sketches from Francis Nicolas

Francis Nicholas was a French colonial administrator who spent a considerable amount of time in the region around Tahoua, Niger, traveling through the valley of Azawagh and other parts of the Tamesna (the customary pasture for many Tamasheq groups). He wrote an ethnography called Tamesna: Les Ioulemmenden de l’Est ou Touareg « Kel Dinnik » (Paris: Imprimerie Nationale), 1950. The work itself is but a sample of all the information he gathered regarding the society of the Kel Dinnik and does not contain many of the sketches he made traveling through the Tamesna in 1944 when employed by the colonial service. I post them here for those interested in the views of these villages back in the 1940s. The source is in French: Documentation Française, Notes et Documents 2112 (Dossier 02).

Food Aid Convention [FAC] in Madrid, Spain

The rice grown along the Niger River in Mali is extraordinary in its quality and nutritional value. Anyone aware of this local produced grain can identify the rice from others as the grains are short and have a pinkish hue. Locals are aware of the high nutritional value and the rice is easily available during the cold season, November through March. The price of locally grown rice during this season is 40% lower than its imported counterparts coming from Pakistan and China and rice both local and imported are the same price during the hot-dry season of April through July. Only in July through October is the locally grown rice more expensive as the granaries empty and scarcity raises the price.

With such advantages one would expect Malian rice producers to be fairing well in income and locals eating well. This is hardly the case. The communities along the Niger River are a mixed patchwork of struggling cultivators, individuals working in the service sector and small elite involved in the import-export business with malnourishment a reality affecting a number of families both rich and poor. Despite the positive qualities of local rice production many residents prefer to spend more money during the cold season and prepare the imported rice for their families. When conducting my research I often asked families why they preferred the Chinese and Pakistani imported rice over their local rice. Two responses were common. People complained that the local rice was either too ‘heavy’ in taste or that only poor people consume the locally produced rice.

Last week the United Nations, non-governmental organizations and donor countries responsible for food aid met in Madrid, Spain from January 26th-28th to discuss the future role of food aid on a global scale. Called the Food Aid Convention or FAC, the meeting was held to approach two major concerns: the food price crisis of 2008, and for 2009 and following years to come a set of rules regarding the appropriate type of food aid and which circumstances merit food assistance. Basically FAC is trying to do more with less and with a number of agencies working at the same goals and/or competing for a shrinking resource base, the convention assembled as a means to set an agenda and parameters for participants.

This is nothing new or revolutionary for governments and aid organizations. Often the neediest and most destitute receive no aid as violence and/or difficulty in transportation retards aid workers’ efforts to distribute aid evenly. At times the political climate can affect the distribution of food aid as national governments may refuse distribution as local militias/rebels may benefit from such operations. The crisis in the Democratic Republic of Congo with the Lord’s Resistance Army is one example of where politics stifles food assistance and other forms of aid and civilians receive no assistance. Furthermore, corruption is both a reality and obstacle as food donations are often sold off to merchants in major cities and trucked to local stores for purchase, though labeled as “Not for Resale.”

FAC since the late 1960s has acknowledged the difficulties of food aid and does not ensure that assistance will reach the neediest groups or countries. But as it tightens its fiscal belt and focuses more on areas of vulnerability and potential food insecurity instead of crisis, I implore those in attendance at FAC to implement policies that promote local food production (rice cultivation along the Niger River as one example) instead of creating markets for imports as has happened with past assistance. With groups such as the International Grains Council having influence in FAC over the past three decades, however, I will remain skeptical of food aid’s benevolent hand until I see more Malians eating their own locally cultivated rice.

« Ajébhah » and its Impact on the Community of Takanmba, Mali

Source: Ministère des travaux publics et des transports de la République Française, Institut Géographique National, Dakar, 1961
UTM Projection; Clark 1880 Ellipsoid

I learned this community’s history thanks to some displaced herders living in Gao in late 2006. One of them, a customary chief of a Tuareg fraction was visiting Gao during my interviews and between his narrative, the interviews of other ex-residents of Takanmba and my archival research conducted in October 2008 in France, I was able to piece together the events that shaped this community and then divided it during the rebellion of the 1990s.

Bordering the banks of the Niger River and located at 16° 59’ 50” N; 0° 57’ 25” W, Takanmba, Mali is a local administration unit in the Department of Bourèm; Region of Gao. Its origins are rooted in the historical background I posted in my last blog, Tuareg Hostility towards a Central Authority, as an Arab trader interested in trading with nomadic groups built a house in the area. His heritage and mother tongue assured him connections to the Kounta herders circulating the territory and his proximity to the Niger River assured other prospective Fulani and Tuareg clients to pass his store in the dry season to water their animals. The community grew, first with support from the Kounta and later with the French administration. The place was originally called El Sheikh, after the founder but as more groups moved into the community and the majority became Tuareg, the name gradually changed to Takanmba.

Harmony was not always the norm between groups. Ethnic rivalry between the Kountas and certain Tuareg groups like the Chérifan and Oulliminden were the most intense, particularly up until World War I. Tension also existed between different occupations as merchants came into conflict with herders and cultivators over the exchanges of animals and grains for goods. But given Takanmba’s proximity to the Niger River, the French were able to maintain security and order in the town from the 1900s until the end in colonial rule in 1960. They viewed Soudan Français as the breadbasket to the territories part of Afrique Occidental Française and promoted the cultivation of rice along the river. Takanmba grew as Songhaï and Bella Bella [former vassals of the Tuareg and also known as Tamasheq Noire in French] moved into the area to plant rice and peace was assured by the French garrison installed at the bank of the river.

The land for centuries was a customary water source for herders’ animals during the dry season and pasture-water source during droughts. Now, the area had transformed into a large settlement with the installation of merchants and farmers. Outside its limits herding remained the primary activity but Takanmba had become an island of commerce, farming, and later education as the French built a school after World War II. Herders knew of the benefits of education as they had seen other Africans from the southern part of Soudan Français in the military and administration of the colony. Some families chose to settle with their herds on the outskirts of town in order to send some if not all their children to school with the hopes that they would have a secure future in the government or armed forces.

The population of Takanmba swelled with the droughts of the 1970s and 1980s. Herders in the northern regions of Mali, whether they abandoned pastoralism altogether or if they used Takanmba as a center for feeding and watering their herds while seeking out temporary jobs or assistance moved into the town. This placed strains on Takanmba’s infrastructure and natural resources. The farmers living in the town for generations were running into conflicts with herders using the river water to maintain their animals or into conflicts with other farmers [new or settled] who competed for land and water as the Niger River diminished in size and volume. But by the late 1980s, the conflict over natural resources was subsiding as rains returned in the northern regions and water levels of the Niger returned to pre-drought measurements.

Disaster hit Takanmba before farmers had the chance to restock their granaries, before herders had accomplished regaining their flocks and before merchants had debtors pay back their credit from the droughts. The rebellion of 1990-1996, known as « Ajébhah » in the Tamasheq language, was not the first rebellion in post-colonial Mali. Groups in the north rebelled against Bamako’s authority in the 1960s over a tax imposed on the exploitation of wood and also after the 1970s drought but these incidents were small in scale and short-lived. The rebellion of 1990-1996 was large in scale affecting the northern and eastern parts of Mali, initially well-organized [though it deteriorated into factionalism and anarchy after a couple of years], and destructive for some communities like Takanmba.

Bamako’s hold on communities north and east of Tombouctou was weak at best and as the rebel cause divided over purpose and tactics, communities like Takanmba were left vulnerable to banditry, theft and killing by various actors. Accounts of the rebels or bandits posing as rebels commandeering peoples’ animals by force were numerous and those who refused were often beaten to submission. Eight people were killed in such confrontations. For some in the town this was evidence of how ineffective the Malian military was in small towns. People started to migrate to larger towns up the river like Mopti and Ségou where security was more reliable. The Ganda Koï, a vigilante group armed themselves with anything from assault rifles to batons, organized to protect communities living along the Niger River and passed through towns like Takanmba periodically. Their purpose was to maintain order where the Malian government had weak holds but their tactics often shifted into harassing local groups that had the same heritage as rebels, i.e. the Arabs and Tamasheq. The Malian army occupied with operations in the countryside had little means to stop this abuse and more people fled Takanmba. On the eve of the rebellion the town was home to four different Tuareg groups, Arabs and Songhaï. Within the Tuareg there were the Tamasheq Rouge (Imerat) and three different types of Tamasheq Noire fractions (Iborlitan, Tagharlifit and Chamamach). At the end of 1994 the only groups that remained in Takanmba were the Songhaï, a few Imerat and families from another Tamasheq Noire group, the Igelhad, who moved from the countryside into the town due to the greater instability and violence occurring north of the area.

For most of my interviewees the rebellion had little impact or was a nuisance to their routines [circulation for herders was difficult if not impossible in several regions]. For some of them confronting drought with little means to maintain their herds and selling their animals for pittances, or, famine impacting their families and reducing the number of eligible income providers in a household during the 1970s and 1980s was more devastating than the bullets coming from rebels’ and soldiers’ guns. For all of them, both those who lost their livelihoods or family members during the political violence and those affected by environmental/economic crises, what mattered was the vulnerability they faced before these shocks; a phenomena that Michael Watts appropriately titles in his work on food security in the Hausa States of Northern Nigeria and Southern Niger “A Silent Violence.” One must put aside the low numbers of herders impacted by the rebellion as it would be unjust to let the story of Takanmba and those displaced herders living in Gao remain untold.

Tuareg Hostility towards a Central Authority

Taken from Boubou Hama, 1967, Recherche sur l'histoire des touaregs sahariens et soudanais [Présence Africaine, Paris].

This is an excerpt of research I undertook at the Centre Archives d’Outre Mer in Aix-en-Provence, France in October of this year. Thanks to this opportunity, my dissertation will include background regarding France’s colonial policies and their influence on food security among pastoralists in the regions of Gao and Ménaka, Mali where the majority of my interviews took place. I have Dr. Brent McCusker to thank for this opportunity as he helped me with logistics of the research and I would like to thank Chloé Sugier, Simon Louwet, Erika Kaufmann and Atika Moha for their assistance and hospitality during my visit to Aix.

In the year 1960, when African states gained their independence from European colonial powers almost ‘every minute,’ one group that had debate and skepticism over the benefits of decolonization were the Tuareg. Basil Davidson speaks in many of his books of the optimism and hope in the future that Africans had during the period of decolonization, but it would be difficult to rank the Tuareg in with this celebration. Tuareg chiefs were not happy to see the French leave, though one would assume they would have considering the history their fathers and grandfathers shared with the French. It was violent half the time and other half involved an attempt by the French to undermine Tuareg society (more about this in a moment). The reason for their disdain during the independence movement lay in the dominance of a foreign ethnic group in the African political parties about to receive the reigns of the colonial administration. The Bambara were both the colonial officials and the majority of the independence movement in Bamako, the Zarma in Niamey and though Algeria was further complicated with a war, the Arabs in Algiers. What directions these groups were going to take the former French colonies was difficult to predict and the Tuareg, though the proprietors of the large part of the Saharan desert, were about to fall into the hands of yet another alien central authority.

The Tuareg themselves are not a centralized ethnic group though there are similarities in language and custom between regions. In the late 1800s and early 1900s, when the French, Italians and English moved into the interior of Africa they found six major Tuareg political territories: Touareg Ajjer, Touareg du Hoggar, Touareg de l’Aïr, Touareg de l’Adrar des Ifoghas, Touareg du Niger, and Touareg Kel Gress (see map). Within these regions existed many confederations of Tuareg groups, sometimes living symbiotically next to each other and other times raiding and pillaging each others’ camps. In addition, these territories were not solely occupied by the Tuareg as there were and are distinct groups of Arabs (Kounta, Mahamid and Bérabich to name a few), Tubu and Fulani living in the same region. The Tuareg, however, were the local power elites in terms of their military strength and their roles in the Saharan trade. The French recognized this and as they encroached on Tuareg lands they played on the rivalries other groups had with the Tuareg as well as divisions that existed in Tuareg society.

An example of this divide and rule came with the French expansion along the Niger River and their relations with the Oulliminden Tuareg, a group that claimed jurisdiction on the east side [left bank] of the river from Bourem, Mali to Tillabéry, Niger and further east to the Tamesna Region though their territory would be reduced to the lands around Ménaka with the installation of the French. In the 1890s as French soldiers and officers moved further up the river, they found the Oulliminden in a bitter rivalry with the Kounta [an Arab group] that also claimed the territory around Bourem. The Kounta and the Oulliminden were not at a full scale war but instead conducted raids on each others’ camps from time to time, with those victimized seeking retribution through counter raids. Further complicating the picture were settled groups of Songhaï and Bella Bella [slaves of the Tuareg] who were most vulnerable to these raids and banditry from raiding Kounta and Oulliminden.

The French, though their initial presence was weak, had the military and resources to bring stability to the region and they did this by first befriending the settled peoples along the river and later the Kounta. The Kounta debated little over allying with the French as they saw their presence as an opportunity to secure the territory around Bourem from the Oulliminden. Their alliance to the foreigners would pay off in the long run as the French committed to the region and suppressed any resistance while rewarding groups that aided them in securing their control over the region.

The first collective effort by the Oulliminden to push out the French came in 1899 when the Europeans placed soldiers and built posts in Gao, Ansongo, Sinder and Dounzou. The Tuareg not only attacked these remote colonial posts but also raided Kounta camps near Bourem which were violent but lucrative attacks for the Oulliminden. The region had been experiencing famine for several years not due to drought because the raids destabilized trade and food production. A year later, the Oulliminden ceased their military campaigns in the hope that the French would stop their expansion and guarantee their rights to lands around Bourem. The French did not concede their posts along the river but did (temporarily) create a protectorate for the Oulliminden as they shifted their military operations to the Hoggar and Aïr Mountains to suppress other Tuareg resistance.

The protectorate meant nothing to the Kounta. Angered at the sacking of several of their camps during the Oulliminden uprising, they retaliated in 1901 by raiding a large camp of Oulliminden at Tiguirirt, killing men, capturing slaves and women and taking animals, equipment and weapons. The Oulliminden would strike back but the French did little to bring peace between the two for the next ten years. Only in 1912 did the French impose sanctions on the Oulliminden for conducting raiding parties.

As it became apparent that the protectorate existed only on paper, the Oulliminden approached the French once more in an effort to secure what few rights possibly remained. The Oulliminden were weakened by the earlier clash with the French and by the current Kounta raids. Yet the French were also in no position to implement their policies in Oulliminden territory just yet. For a brief period from 1906-08, the French were considering making the Oulliminden territory, at this point reduced to the region of Ménaka, a Secteur Nomade where colonial policies would favor the preservation of nomad customs and livelihoods. This idea, however, was never realized at least not intentionally.

Many of the colonial policies implemented in Francophone Africa fractured Tuareg society further (at least for the next ten years). The French emancipated the slaves and vassals of the Tuareg on moral, diplomatic and economic grounds. Many of the settled peoples along the Niger River that the French allied with during colonial expansion were slaves of the Tuareg or paying tithes to the Tuareg to ensure their security. Tithes to Tuareg nobles became taxes to French administrators as these communities were potential revenue makers and a source of food production for the colony. Raiding and banditry did not end under French rule but the scale and frequency was reduced dramatically to the point that this was not a viable strategy for many Tuareg.

The Oulliminden did not passively relinquish their military authority in the region but were delayed in any resistance to French dominion for several years. First, their involvement with raids against the Kounta occupied the Oulliminden and delayed any organized resistance to foreign domination. Second the French, influenced by Kounta leaders, imposed economic sanctions on Oulliminden territory in order to punish the group seen as responsible for the region’s instability. Finally few rains came to the region on the summer months of 1912. The Oulliminden faced vulnerability to famine in 1913 with the violence of Kounta raiding parties, the suppression of regional trade by the French, and the failure of rains to renew pasture reserves for their animals.

Despite the drawbacks the Oulliminden armed for a future revolt to French rule in 1914. Misguided by inaccurate intelligence of the French weakening due to other insurgencies up river, the Oulliminden commenced small-scale attacks on French forts in May. The French were swift in their response, arresting the leaders of the revolt before a large assault ensued but in 1916 the incarcerated leaders escaped their captors and organized their forces for a large scale assault to the northeast of Andéramboukane, a military post situated on a permanent lake. The lake was and still is an important water source for the Tuareg and other pastoralists in the region. Rebel leaders must have viewed the control of this water source as vital to regain their authority in the territory and in the maintenance of their herds during the revolt.

The French, guided by accurate intelligence, sent an expeditionary force backed up by Kounta méharistes around the lake to outflank the Oulliminden and in doing so, surprised the Tuareg camps. The battle was completely one-sided as the French ended the Oulliminden revolt and the Kounta received for their assistance carte blanche in dividing up the spoils of the disbanded Oulliminden camps. Once again the Kounta profited from their allegiance and partnership with the French while the Oulliminden experienced hardship and loss to their resistance to colonial rule.

With other Tuareg revolts ending in defeat and submission to French rule in Algeria, Niger and Upper Volta [today known as Burkina Faso], the French pursued a general policy of converting the Tuareg from pastoral livelihoods to farming. Colonial officials viewed the Tuareg nomadic way of life as backward and an obstacle to the development of their colonies. Furthermore, tax collection and policing of African communities was more difficult to conduct with mobile populations as was learned through the intrigues and revolts that took place from 1914-17. In the case of Oulliminden territory, plans and programs to develop irrigation and privatize land in the Ménaka region were proposed but little was implemented as the limited revenues collected in the French colonies often went to grand projects in the south like the Malian cotton growing schemes around Koutiala and Bougouni or the major rice growing project known as l’Office du Niger near Mopti. This neglect allowed many Tuareg the opportunity to restock their herds and continue their livelihoods with minimal interference from colonial officials.

The little funding that trickled into the Ménaka region often went to policing and the maintenance of roads. At the height of the Great Depression, French colonial officials began a debate over whether to keep the region in the administration of Soudan Français where Bamako was the capital (1400 km from Ménaka) or to integrate it into the colony of Niger. Proponents of the change argued that Niamey (the capital of the Niger colony by 1926 and 250 km from Ménaka) was closer to Oulliminden territory and had greater economic ties to Western Niger, more so than the rest of Mali. Another argument voiced later by officials on the ground was the difficulty in regulating the black market activities that developed in Ménaka and extended into the Anglophone colonies of Nigeria and the Gold Coast [the country known as Ghana today].

Any possibility of connecting the region of Ménaka to Niger ended with the start of World War II and the Malian nationalist movement that appeared shortly after the war. Colonial officials shifted their priorities to the maintenance of African loyalty to the French Republic and to the recruitment of colonial subjects into Charles De Gaulle’s resistance to German occupation after 1940. The same ethnic group that filled the ranks of Soudan’s colonial administration was also recruited into De Gaulle’s infantry. The Bambara dominated the ranks of Africans working in the Soudan Français, they were the majority of troops coming from the Soudan to fight against the Germans, and they would dominate the leadership and membership of the political party calling for an end to French rule in the late 1940s and 1950s. The independence movement in Soudan would not accept any reorganization of territory that did not favor their inheritance and when independence came, the new political elite had ideas of how to integrate Mali’s diverse population into one nationality and grand schemes to develop the remoter regions and its resources.

For most Oulliminden the changing political picture had little to no consequence on their lives. French rule, though initially brutal, had little influence on their lives from 1917 to the 1950s. They were able to maintain their society, restock their herds from the violence of the 1910s and redevelop their market links to the south due to the underfunding, understaffing and lack of interest officials in Bamako had in the remote and drier parts of Soudan Français. The only exception to this was the development of nomadic schools in the 1950s where Tuareg parents began gradually to send one or all of their children. As long as the government did not interfere with their society and access to local resources, the Oulliminden were indifferent to either a European or African administration. For a few individuals in Oulliminden society, the new political elite was an opportunity for advancement and their participation in the independence movement in many situations rewarded them local seats of power in the Ménaka region or modest administrative posts in Bamako. Many in Oulliminden leadership however, held concerns over what future plans the Bambara-dominated government held for the Ménaka region and they would be the forefathers and foundation of Tuareg resistance to the central authority of the Malian state in decades to come.

Amnesty International members and others interested in Human Rights

I have a large posting coming up next week on the origins of Tuareg mistrust in central authority but for now I wanted to post a link to a large New York Times article on the current rebellion in Niger that a friend of mine brought to my attention. In my opinion, the writer romanticizes the position of the rebels, le Mouvement dès Nigériens Pour la Justice or MNJ but I do agree with the author that more people need to be aware of what is going on in the Sahara regarding indigenous peoples’ right to their land and resources. Please, if you are interested in this subject read on and contact your congressional leaders, Amnesty International or other human rights organizations about what actions can be taken to end the violence in Niger.

The link to the NY Times article is:

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/12/15/world/africa/15niger.html?_r=1&hp

I thank Justin Marcello for bringing this article to my attention.

The Nigérien Touareg Rebellion

On December 24th, 2007, I ate dinner with a person who is perhaps the second most important person in the Nigérien military. He had traveled extensively in his life and even trained at Fort Bragg, North Carolina in the United States (very few Nigériens have such experiences). I asked him how well he knew his own country. He named some very remote outposts in Niger, including Tillia, Assamakka, Djado, Chrifa and Ngourti (all in the extreme north and east of the country). It was clear to me there was not a corner of his country that he had not visited, conducted exercises in or patrolled. I was in company with a very well seasoned veteran of Niger.

Later in the meal the table was lacking drinking water and as another went to retrieve a pitcher, I made the comment in the Tamasheq language, “Aman Eeman” which translated means “Water is the source of life.” The well seasoned veteran of Niger turned to me and asked me in earnest, “Is that the Arabic language?” I would expect such a response of people living in villages of southern Niger but coming from someone who has worked and lived many years in northern Niger where Arabs and Tamasheq groups live, this came as a shock to me. Certainly in his experiences he must have heard if not learned a few phrases of Arabic and Tamasheq, at least enough to make a distinction between the two.

I spent three months in Niger (October through December 2007) doing my best to receive approval to conduct and implement research regarding food security issues among pastoralists in the north. If I had succeeded I would have been interviewing many Tamasheqs and Arabs as they are the majority who herd animals in this remote region. I had concerns returning to Niger to conduct this research not because of previous experiences as I had an excellent site visit the year before, but because of the rebellion that started in February 2007 in the north. A group known as the MNJ: Mouvement dès Nigériens pour la Justice began to attack military installations, government buildings and the uranium mines around Arlit and Akokan.

When I returned to Niger in October 2007 I held no opinions about the political problems in the north. Receiving approval from the ministry of education to conduct my research was my main priority. I did not return to ask questions about the rebellion. For me, the rebellion was a distraction and an annoyance but I did ask people in Niamey if I should change the research site considering my initial plan called for returning to Arlit. Everyone, including the ministry of education encouraged me to work in the north. I pursued it.

I was back in Arlit in early December. I was delayed because of additional conditions the ministry of education continued to add to my request each time I returned to their bureau. When I finally fulfilled all of their conditions, I believed that this was the end of the difficulties and that I will have no problem starting my interviews. I made sure to conduct formalities with local officials, starting with the governor of the Agadez region. He initially told me my research was fine but to remain in the city limits of Arlit, Akokan, Agadez and Tchighozérine. There was no confusion over this as I knew the ministry of education gave me the same parameters.
I then returned to Arlit to settle in and look for a temporary residence, an interpreter and reunite with my collaborator and friends. Here too, I immediately conducted formalities with the commissariat and the mayor. The police commissioner told me the same as the governor: to remain in the towns and not to circulate in the countryside but that my presence was welcome and wanted. The mayor, however, ended any hopes of conducting my research. At first he tried to scare me off telling me my security was at risk in Arlit. Though I assured him I was as safe in Arlit as I was in Niamey or any other part of Niger (actually safer since I had friends and colleagues here) it did not matter. He eventually decided to be frank with me telling me he did not care for me or my research. He told me he would use all of his power to terminate my research immediately.

The next few days were full of drama. The police visited my collaborator at his office several times trying to find out more information about me, my research and contacts in town. When I had a private moment with him, he said it best, “They are afraid. They are afraid you will sit down with people from the countryside and find out how bad the government is handling this uprising.” Both my collaborator and I knew that my days were limited.

The authorities in Arlit had reason. People I bumped into on the streets were very willing to tell me of the atrocities that their government is committing in the countryside. From what people told me, there are frequent extrajudicial killings, there is excessive force and human rights’ violations including the killing of animals, destruction of property, poisoning of wells and the military planting landmines all over Niger. When I asked about how the MNJ were conducting their operations, people had nothing bad to say. They explained to me the make up of the MNJ: they are ex-soldiers, ex-gendarmes and ex-police who left their service in February 2007 and returned to their villages in the north to alert people of the upcoming crisis. People voluntarily left their villages for the towns. All over the region of Agadez, there are villages that have been completely abandoned. Only a few villages such as Timia have not moved. People went either to the large towns like Arlit, Akokan, Agadez and Tchighozérine or went south to other regions out of the conflict (Later, when I traveled near Tanout I saw a line of tents right at the administrative boundary of Zinder-Agadez. It was quite a surprise to see pastoralists making this imaginary line a physical reality).

The MNJ does not represent all people of all different walks in Niger. If there are any Haoussa, Zarma or Kanouri individuals in this group, it is probably for their own ideological reasons. Their numbers are principally Tuaregs and Arabs. We in the West assume that these groups are fairer-skinned than other Africans and this has to do with the heritage of the Sahara: groups from Yemen migrating into the region after the 7th century. This is true but there are also dark-skinned Tuaregs and Arabs in the MNJ, having African ancestry but integrated into Tuareg-Arab society centuries ago when they were the slaves, blacksmiths and warriors of Saharan groups. So no, the rebels do not represent all ethnicities in Niger but they do represent the people of Northern Niger who have been neglected and ignored by their own government for over 40 years.

The government though neglecting northern people has not neglected northern natural resources. In the late 1960s, uranium was discovered around Arlit and Akokan and this contributed to the development of the towns of Arlit and Akokan. Over the 40 year period a hospital, schools, housing, electricity, running water and a paved road running all the way to Arlit (1200 km from Niamey) were built. These services were built with revenues from the mine but are used primarily for the workers of the mines, who are principally Haoussa and Zarma. Arabs and Tuaregs make up less than 20% of the manual workers, there are only 3 total Tamasheq engineers at the sites in Arlit and Akokan and none of the administration is Arab or Tamasheq. Perhaps one could argue that such statistics are fair since Arabs and Tamasheq groups are less than 10% of the population in Niger but such an argument falls flat when looking at the statistics of workers at the gold mine operations of Samira Hill and Libiri pits (near Niamey). 100% of the administration, engineers and manual workers are Zarma. There is no room for other groups. The Tamasheq and Arabs in the north are aware of this and resent the domination of Haoussa and Zarma groups in the mining operations on their lands. This is what the rebellion is about: IT IS A LAND RIGHTS ISSUE AND NOTHING ELSE. The MNJ, at least initially, has not demanded separation and independence from Niamey. What they are asking for is a better representation of Tamasheq and Arabs in civil service, working in the uranium mine and a fair cut of revenues invested in the development of the north. In the Agadez region outside of Arlit and Agadez, there are few schools, few cement wells and infrastructure.

Large numbers of Nigériens do not live in the north; they live in the south. But while the Nigérien government has profited from uranium revenues from the north, they have been able to rely on foreign organizations to contribute to if not provide development to populations in the south ever since the drought of 1973. Development in Niger is a political game with winners and losers. My first impression of Niamey when I first arrived was it is the capital of the NGO (non-governmental organization) world. Think of an NGO like Save the Children, Oxfam, Doctors without Frontiers, Action Contre la Faim (Action against Hunger), CARRITAS (a Catholic Relief Organization) and others and one will likely find an office in Niamey. Bi-lateral organizations are also numerous and operating here. The United States’ USAID, SNV (the Netherlands), DANIDA (Denmark), and even one from Monaco (Monegasque Official Development Assistance) are working on poverty alleviation in Niger. There are conditions with these humanitarian efforts, however. Their operations are often restricted to southern Niger and little assistance is implemented in the north. When I talked to volunteers of JICA (a Japanese volunteer organization that is similar to Peace Corps from the United States), I was told they are only allowed to work as far north as Tahoua and as far east as Zinder. It is obvious when one visits villages in the south and sees covered markets, new schools, cement wells and paved roads. Depending on whom one talks to, the reasons given for this uneven geographical development can be “for security reasons” (and certainly some NGOs have reservations in operating in the north for the safety of their staff) or because the invitation has not been given to them by Niamey. The Nigérien government holds the reigns to assistance in the north. No aid can be implemented there without the approval of Niamey. But they give little slack to NGOs and bilateral organizations. This is why northern Niger is poorer than southern Niger. The Nigérien government not only extracts northern resources without reciprocating, they also lock out foreign assistance.

In a matter of five days after talking to the mayor of Arlit, I was ordered by the police commissioner to return to Agadez and meet with the governor once more. They would not tell me what it was in reference to but I could sense that I was being pushed both out of my research and out of Niger. I visited my friends and collaborator one last time and explained the situation. They too sensed the injustice of the mayor and their government. I did not come to Niger to interview MNJ members and cover the rebellion, but at this point it did not matter. Even if I had started to interview people, the rebellion was likely to corrupt any data I collected.
Agadez is where I began to shift my allegiance from being independent from the rebellion to sympathies towards the MNJ’s cause. It started with the about-face the governor took with me. I was told that my research was suspended until I visit the ministry of interior and the ministry of defense and receive approval from both ministries. This decision on their part was right at the eve of Tabaski, perhaps the largest Muslim holiday and in Niger, a very big affair. It is the celebration of when Abraham was prepared to kill his first born to show his faith in God, though God intervened and instead a ram was sacrificed. People actually take out loans to buy the needed sheep to slaughter during this celebration. I asked for permission to stay in the area for a week as I knew there would be no one at any ministry during the holiday. I was denied and ordered to return to Niamey. They made no arrangements for me to return to Niamey, however and instead I decided to shift my mission from researcher to tourist for the next three weeks. Christmas was a week after Tabaski and after that the New Year. I needed a break from the frustrations and I wanted to opportunity to see other parts of Niger.

I visited Tanout but by the start of Tabaski I was in Zinder. From there I moved on to Diffa with the intentions of going further north to Nguigmi but this is where problems and interrogations started. I was carrying all my belongings with me, including maps in a map case, my computer, GPS and audio-recorder. The gendarmes in Diffa controlling the route to Nguigmi stopped me but when they saw my approval from Niamey, they let me continue my travels to Nguigmi. I arrived there at night but in the morning, I made sure to pass the commissariat and register with the police (it is a fairly remote place, near the Chadian border). I had befriended someone in town and actually started asking questions about the Kanouri and Toubou languages (I have an avid curiosity and thirst to learn African languages ... something that also was problematic in future run-ins with Nigérien authorities) but the gendarmes had come for me, not giving me enough time to collect all my belongings and this time transporting me back to Diffa under armed guard.

I covered up nothing. I explained to the commandant in Diffa that I was a researcher, but that I had some time before I needed to go back to Niamey to meet with officials and that I was merely acting as a tourist. He didn’t believe me and he told me he was going to expose my true mission. I had nothing to hide. He looked at all my maps and asked for the receipts for them (I managed to find them all). He looked at my computer and audio-recorder (only pulling them out of the case and opening them, not turning on the power. I would not have let it go that far; I would have asked him to contact my embassy if he made such a request). I spent two days answering his questions. He was uneasy with the amount of Zarma, Haoussa and Tamasheq I had learned over three months. After his attempt to learn more about my mission, he was ready to send me back to Zinder to meet with the commandant there but I insisted that my belongings left in Nguigmi be returned to me. He had no choice but to order one of his men in Nguigmi to return to Diffa with the things I was missing. I delayed my return to Zinder by one day.

Once again, I was brought from Diffa to Zinder by armed guard. I arrived in the town in the early morning and only had a few hours to sleep before meeting with the commandant. I wasn’t in the best of moods when meeting with this man. The meeting was brief, he basically ordered me to return to Niamey immediately. I asked him if he makes such requests to tourists frequently. He replied that he does not meet with tourists (the threat of my presence in Niger was never more apparent then at this moment). I wasn’t going to comply easily. I quickly remembered that it is Christmas Eve and I told him that I do not travel on Catholic holidays. He had no choice as to deny me the opportunity to enjoy an important religious holiday and attend church the next day could have been scandalous for his government. I stayed in Zinder for Christmas Eve and Christmas, staying at the gendarmerie and under 24 hour surveillance.
The commandant who I had Christmas Eve dinner with and was ignorant of the difference between the Arab and Tamasheq languages was this man. He was generous to me, providing me with an escort who drove me from place to place around town, offering me the best quarters at the gendarmerie and my meals but I would have preferred my freedom and being responsible for my needs. I already knew the town pretty well from my first visit a week earlier. I checked my e-mail earlier in the day. My advisor had told me to terminate my mission in Niger. This was both relieving and disappointing to me: relieving because the harassment and constant detainments from the authorities was frustrating and fruitless; disappointing because I grew aware of the injustices that take place in Niger both currently and in the past. I enjoyed my Christmas without incident, but my mind was certainly focused on my friends and colleague up in Arlit who I was going to have to contact and inform that my time was ending soon in Niger.

The day after Christmas, I returned to Niamey. There, I was free to circulate and move about without surveillance. I immediately went to the embassy of Mali and requested a one-month visa. If Niger was going to be a loss then I was going to take some time and revisit people who aided my research in Mali. I was more sensitive to the media and peoples’ opinions of the rebellion at this point. People in the south are kept ignorant by their government. Constantly, the news programs broadcasted from Niamey attached the word ‘terrorist’ to the MNJ and accuse them of planting land mines and attacking civilian vehicles in the north. I had passed back and forth between Abalak, Agadez, Arlit and Tanout several times without incident. Yes, I was lucky. But the media fails to tell Nigérien citizens of the tactics the military is taking to stamp out the MNJ and protect the uranium lorry. Most of the soldiers and arms are committed to protecting the uranium, not civilians traveling to or from the north.

People who remembered seeing me on the streets in October and November stopped me and asked me why I had returned. I explained to them the problems I encountered. Haoussa and Zarma groups would constantly blame the rebels for my misfortune. I made sure to reply back that perhaps the government has some guilt in my aborted mission since they have neglected the north for so long but profited from the uranium reserves. Some Haoussa and Zarma did not even know where Arlit or Agadez was. They thought I was coming from Algeria or Libya. It is ignorance like this that has helped Mohammedou Tandia (the president of Niger) and his administration keep their power in this crisis. A month before the rebellion, there was a “No Confidence” vote passed down from the Nigérien Congress but this criticism was shelved when problems escalated in the north. People forgot their grievances and have blindly followed Tandia’s no tolerance policy with the MNJ.

Groups of Tamasheq that I crossed paths with were curious about my quick return, too. When I explained to them my misfortune and interrogations they smiled and shook their heads. They replied to me, “Now you know. Now you know what we encounter each and every day ... injustice.” When I told them about the commandant’s ignorance of the difference between the Arab and Tamasheq language they responded without hesitation, “Yet we are forced to learn Zarma and Haoussa when we work and live here in Niamey. Tell me in your opinion, who makes the effort to be Nigérien in this country: a person from the north that has to learn Zarma and Haoussa to work and make a few CFA or a person in the south who know only their mother tongue and sit behind a big desk in a tall ministry?” They had reason. Niger is currently not a state where people have a sense of nationality and unity. It is a territory where ethnic groups are looking out for their own selfish interests. I hate using this word but it is appropriate here: Niger is experiencing the phenomenon of tribalism.

Whether the Nigérien government has profited from outside assistance by calling the MNJ a terrorist organization is something I am unaware of. However, Mohammedou Tandia has nothing to lose in calling the MNJ a group of terrorists and accusing them of drug trafficking. It has kept southern Nigériens ignorant of the uneven development in their country and the land rights’ issue the MNJ bases their actions. Such a claim appeals to Western powers to assist against these so-called “terrorists.” I read recently an article that hypothesizes the possible connections of Al Qaeda to the Tuareg rebel movements both in Niger and Mali. As a researcher that has traveled and lived for the past year-and-a-half in these regions I found the article preposterous. The Tuareg have little in common with Arabia and Central Asian groups and little interest in what is happening in Middle East. They do have a connection to Libya because of Tuareg groups that work and live there and I don’t deny a connection to Mummar Qadaffi but many of the Tuaregs I talked to were critical of the Libyan president seeing him as a profiteer like many of the local politicians of their own countries.I wish not to post this article without some criticism of the MNJ. No political movement is saintly and free of committing atrocities 100% of the time. It is likely that they are funding their military actions against the Nigérien government through drug trafficking, human trafficking (the rebellion is taking place in the routes that clandestine Africans take) or other dubious activities. Certainly their relations with Ibrahima Bahanga in Tin-Zaouaten (northern Mali) complicates matters as there is stronger evidence that Bahanga’s group does engage in drug trafficking and currently holds two Austrians kidnapped at the Tunisian-Algerian border two weeks ago. But the MNJ’s conduct during the first year of this conflict must be commended. They did not target civilians, at least people not connected to the uranium operations. Only Nigérien authorities and services related to the uranium mining operations were attacked. They warned civilians in the countryside of the upcoming violence. I conducted many interviews with victims of the 1990s rebellion in Mali who complained to me of rebels stealing their animals, destroying their property and killing family members but no such complaints were passed on to me when I was in Niger. I have fears that in the future the MNJ will be forced to shift their tactics to attacking citizens, banditry, kidnapping foreign nationals that come across their paths and other malicious acts. But considering that the Nigérien government is already killing people in the northern countryside, poisoning wells, killing animals, destroying property, spreading propaganda and pushing out any form of independent coverage of the rebellion in order to stamp out the MNJ, what choice do they have? Little ...

Formalities with Local Officials

I have experience thanks to my Peace Corps days of conducting formalities with local officials. A good majority of the time officials are very preoccupied with other issues and introducing oneself and presenting one’s mission often goes smoother than expected. Still, doing this in a foreign language is not easy and there are surprises from time to time. The probability of having a bad first impression makes this process one of the most nerve-racking. Waiting in the lounge of a local official is a good chance to practice introductory remarks but at the same time it is also a moment of anxiety as often it is difficult to know which type of personality one is about to come face-to-face with.

Having approval from the agency that is responsible for your being in country is the first priority. To just show up without something from the capitol explaining your mission is not looked upon favorably and they will see your visit as a waste of their time. After that, dressing sharp and showing up early in the morning on Monday-Thursday (but not Friday!) is the best bet at having a successful introduction. If they speak your language and they make an effort to converse with you in it then do talk to them in your maternal tongue. And if they try to test your abilities in local languages be humble about it (even if you are proficient) but answer their questions in the local language as best as you can.

Do not be surprised if the official lives in the capitol or another country, like France, England or the United States. They may be living outside of their region to best represent and work for their community. The reverse is also possible unfortunately, where they may be living outside of their community because they have profited from their position and do little or nothing for their constituents. This of course varies from individual to individual. If the official is not there, it is not necessary to track the person down as often there is someone at the office to represent them and receive your introduction. They have the power to approve your mission and papers.

Despite these preventions things could still go disastrous. My very last effort at conducting formalities was the worst one ever and there was little I could do to prevent the outcome. The official simply did not like the idea of a researcher interviewing people in his region because there is a rebellion in the department of Arlit, Niger at present. The government of Niger has done its best to keep out foreign journalists and anyone who could possibly bring the events of the rebellion and the cause of the rebels to a larger audience. The official started my meeting by cajoling me. He argued that I should not to live and work in his region because of ‘security issues’ but I was able to argue through this facade by explaining the roots I had already made in Arlit. I had already had three visits, found a collaborator to work with, a potential landlord and interpreter, and made several friends in the marketplace. In truth, I was probably safer in his region then where I am right now (southern Niger).

Further into the formalities he admitted he did not like my research and living in his community and that he would do his best to terminate my mission. He did so as the very next day, I was ordered by the commissariat to return to the Governor in Agadez. I had already conducted formalities with the Governor three days earlier with no problems but upon my second return, the authority did an about-face and told me my research was suspended until I seek the approval of the Ministry of Interior and Ministry of Defense, both in Niamey. There is no chance of meeting with either of these until after the New Year as it is Tabaski right now and soon it will be the New Year. I will try once more but I have my doubts as to whether I will receive approval to conduct my research in the immediate future.

My collaborator, who had several visits from the police the day I met with the local official, said it best, “They are afraid of what people are going to tell you about the rebellion.” I have tried to remain independent and silent on the rebellion as it is not my mission to report on the troubles up north. People, however, have shared with me their opinions and observations regarding the clashes that have taken place between the military and rebels in Iferouâne, Arlit and other areas of the north. As tempted as I am to share this information (especially after my last meeting with the last local official in Arlit), I will refrain until after I confirm with the Ministry of Interior and Defense that I cannot conduct research in the north and I am out of Niger’s jurisdiction.