The Dictator's Handbook (37 page)

Rawlings had a talent for preventing protest. He stifled any free press by restricting the supply of paper. His supporters meanwhile infiltrated the trade unions and effectively made strikes impossible for many years. He avoided free assembly at every turn. Events a year into his rule demonstrate his considerable organizational talents. In January 1983, Nigeria announced the expulsion of 1.4 million Ghanaians working in Nigeria. In a few weeks 10 percent of the population, most of them young adults, flooded back into a poverty-stricken Ghana. The prospects of hundreds of thousands of disgruntled and unemployed people milling around the capital terrified many in the government, some of whom advocated closing the border to prevent them from arriving. Instead, Rawlings welcomed them with open arms, but almost immediately ensured the returnees were transported back to
their home villages. His massive transport undertaking avoided the camps that overwhelmed Mexico and Nicaragua. And it was a much more humane approach than Shwe's.

Rawlings's fundamental problem was that Ghana was broke and the economy had nearly completely collapsed. Ghana's food production was the second lowest in Africa, ahead only of Chad. Rigged exchange rates lay at the heart of Ghana's economic problems and its system of political rewards. The official exchange rate for Ghana's currency, the cedi, was much higher than the black market rate. Essential backers were allowed to exchange money at the official exchange rate and then convert it on the street. Unfortunately this eroded the incentives of farmers. By the early 1980s, it often cost farmers more for fuel to take goods to markets than they earned by selling them. Seventy percent of the crops that did make it to market were carried on people's heads. Smuggling crops across the border to the Ivory Coast became the norm. The government responded by making smuggling a capital crime. With little being produced for export, Ghana had exhausted its capacity to borrow and was going bankrupt.

Rawlings had a big problem. He had seized power and wanted to pursue a revolutionary socialist agenda, but he needed money. As Naomi Chazan phrased it, “the question was no longer where resources were located but if they existed at all.”
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To start with, Rawlings closed all the universities and had the students help bring in the harvests. But such measures were not enough. The people were hungry. Ghana had insufficient funds to pay for food imports and to pay the army. As a good rule-abiding autocrat, Rawlings knew his priorities: pay the army! Soon the term
Rawlings necklace
became a popular euphemism for the protruding collarbones common among the emaciated people. He approached the Soviet Union, but they had their own financial problems and, despite his move to the political left, they declined to support him.

J.J. was between a rock and a hard place. He needed money and the only place left to get it was to encourage the people to get back to work. At the beginning of 1983 he enacted a radical reversal of policy. The cedi was allowed to devalue. Producer prices paid to farmers were also increased, and subsidies for gas, electricity, and health care were cut. International financial institutions such as the IMF and World
Bank were delighted to have an adherent to their policies, but many of his closest allies were not. This policy switch was also accompanied by a change in personnel. Rawlings orchestrated a coup, making it a fait accompli before his targets could organize and retaliate. Overnight his closest supporters found themselves without influence. Some, such as J. Amartey Kwei, would be executed (allegedly for his part in a notorious murder of judges). Others, such as the radical student activist, Chris Atim, fled into exile.

It is telling that by 1985, Rawlings was the only remaining member of the original ruling PNDC council. As a further sign of the direction Rawlings's administration was taking, that council swelled from six members to ten. No leader voluntarily increases the number of people to whom he is beholden unless he thinks that doing so will help him stay in power.

As is to be expected, Rawlings was a reluctant democrat. He simply had few options left. He needed money. To get it, he implemented policies that empowered the people. Gradually, they could demand more. “Rawlings was a victim of his own success.” He had given the people a voice by liberalizing the economy and opening the airwaves. There was the perception of increased confidence. With the economic crisis resolved the people began to feel “we can do this without someone telling us what to do.”
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As we have seen, by 1989 Boahen felt comfortable openly criticizing Rawlings. Even he had to admit reforms had improved the economy. The “Rawlings necklace” had been replaced by the “Rawlings waistcoat (a fat belly).” Having to implement policies to keep the masses happy, Rawlings allowed a gradual expansion of the coalition to accompany the expansion in public goods. In 1988 and 1989 local elections were allowed. Rather than provoke mass protest, Rawlings stayed one step ahead. As a loose affiliation of political interests coalesced into the Movement for Freedom and Justice and called for multiparty elections, Rawlings defused their thunder by organizing elections while the opposition was still disorganized. In the 1991 presidential election he decisively defeated Adu Boahen, who ran as the leader of the New Patriotic Party (NPP). Although there were some discrepancies, international observers declared the results basically fair.

Elections have been basically fair ever since. Rawlings and his National Democratic Congress party won again in 1996, beating John Kufuor. In 2000, Rawlings stepped down and John Kufuor went on to serve the constitutional limit of two terms. In 2008 the NDC candidate, Atta Mills, became president in a highly competitive election.

Rawlings needed money and his only way of getting it was to empower the people. By allowing the people to assemble and communicate he increased their productivity. But he also made it easier for them to coordinate and organize against him. He successfully avoided protest and revolution only by remaining one step ahead of the people in terms of granting concessions. Yet he could not avoid protest indefinitely. In 1995 between 50,000 and 100,000 people joined Kume preko, or “We have had enough” marches through downtown Accra, the capital. Although the government sought to prevent these marches, the courts overruled them. An independent judiciary encourages entrepreneurial zeal, but it also protects the civil liberties of the people.

Today Ghana is an economically vibrant democracy. Its transition from autocracy to democracy took place under the leadership of the larger than life J. J. Rawlings. Yet it should be remembered that he was a reluctant democrat. Had he had the resources he would have perpetuated his socialist revolution. Ghana recently developed an offshore oilfield. Had these funds been available to J.J., or had the Soviets had the resources to back him, then it is likely he would still be in power and Ghana would be a much poorer and more oppressive land.

Revolutionary moments often arise, as we saw in the cases of Ghana, South Africa, and the Soviet Union, when an economy is near collapse—so near, in fact, that the leadership can no longer buy the military's loyalty. Such circumstances are practically inevitable in the life of the vast majority of autocracies. Their rent-seeking, corrupt, inefficient economic ways assure it.

At such moments the threatened government is more than likely to blame the international community for their woes. After all, in exchange for policy concessions, oppressive leaders have been able to
borrow on relatively easy terms from rich foreign governments and the international banks they control. Now these governments face crushing debt obligations and no money to pay them. Getting more money becomes difficult exactly because they are in such danger of defaulting on their debts. And what do many well-intentioned people cry out for them: debt forgiveness.

We must repeat what we have indicated earlier. Financial crises, from an autocratic leader's perspective, are political crises. The leader hasn't cared a whit about destroying his country's economy by stealing from the public. Now that money is in such short supply that he can't maintain his coalition's loyalty there is a moment of opportunity for political change. Forgive the debts and the leader will just start borrowing again to pay his cronies and keep himself in power. Nicolas Van de Walle compares the fates of regimes in Benin and Zambia with Cameroon and Ivory Coast during crises.
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In the former cases, international financial institutions withdrew support and the nations democratized. In the latter cases, France stepped in with financial support and no reform occurred.

So the first policy recommendation for outside observers when a dictator faces national bankruptcy, and the protests likely to follow in its train is this: don't save the dictator; don't forgive indebtedness unless the dictator first actually puts his hold on power at real risk by permitting freedom of assembly, a free press, freedom to create opposition parties, and free, competitive elections in which the incumbent's party is given no advantages in campaign funds, rallies, or anything else. Only after such freedoms and real political competition are in place might any debt forgiveness be considered. Even the least hint of a fraudulent election and of cutbacks in freedom should be met by turning off the flow of funds.

Foreign aid, as we have seen, is a boon to petty dictators and to democratic donor citizens and leaders. That makes persuading people to cut off aid to help promote democratization very difficult indeed. But if the opportunity arises it should be seized. Just as with debt forgiveness or new loans, foreign aid should be tied to the actuality of political reform and not to its promise. When leaders put themselves at risk of being thrown out by the people, then they show themselves
worthy of aid. When leaders allow their books to be audited to detect and publicize corruption, then they are good candidates for aid designed to improve the well-being of their people. Those who refuse to make politics competitive and to expose and correct corruption will just steal aid and should not get it if there is not an overwhelming national security justification for continuing aid.

When a succession in leaders takes place, whether through revolution or through the unexpected death or retirement of the person in power, then there is a window of opportunity for real democratic change. We have seen that the early part of an incumbent's time in office is the riskiest in terms of the new leader being deposed. This is especially true for autocrats. Indeed, they have a strong incentive to pretend to be democratic in their first couple of years exactly because for that first period in office democrats have a better chance of surviving than autocrats. We have seen just such reforms coming out of Cuba, for instance, as Raul Castro took over from his brother Fidel. Raul needed to consolidate his hold on power, reassure his backers that he could provide for them, and to do that he had to get Cuba's economy to grow. Solution: introduce some economic competition and a few political acts of liberalization. Today Cubans can take greater advantage of private businesses than was true at any time since the revolution. They can have cell phones and some access to the Internet, expanding their reach for information and their ability to coordinate with fellow Cubans even when they are not face-to-face. But will these reforms last once Raul, or any newly ensconced autocrat, consolidates his control over the flow of money and the loyalty of his key backers? Probably not, unless the international community exploits its brief window of opportunity. It can do so by tying economic assistance to a lock-in of political liberalization.

All the methods mentioned above are exactly the tools that liberal governments can adopt to promote lock-in of democratic reforms. But do they have the will to do it? That, sadly, is unlikely—and for that problem we have not yet found a cure.

T
HE BIBLE'S FIRST RECORD OF WAR ARISES WHEN the kings of Shinar, Ellasar, Elam, and Goiim fight the kings of Sodom, Gomorrah, Admah, Zeboiim, and Bela, two thousand years after biblical creation. The world has not seen that long a stretch without war again. Indeed, it is fair to say that our world is chock full of war—it has little peace, and hardly any order. We think that a big part of why war is such a scourge is that too many leaders get the wrong advice about how to solve international problems. Maybe, just maybe, by looking at war in our political survival terms we will see ways to construct a more peaceful and orderly world.

War is often said to transcend everyday politics, to be above the fray of partisan rancor. But the fact is that war is inherently political. Carl von Clausewitz, the nineteenth-century Prussian soldier and preeminent military thinker, expressed it best, “War is a mere continuation of politics by other means.” And as we have seen, political survival is at the heart of all politics.