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This chapter focuses on the moment in which, and the means by which, Cambodia’s 1993 Constitution was made. I begin with an overview of the peace-building process, from the negotiation of the Paris Peace Accords to the arrival of the United Nations Transitional Authority in Cambodia to democratic elections and the formation of a coalition government. Then, I reflect on the growing literature that studies constitution-making processes, and particularly post-conflict constitution-making processes, to lay out some of the central considerations that are at play in processes like that which took place in Cambodia. Next, I provide a detailed account of how Cambodia’s constitution-making process proceeded. Rather than offering a comprehensive account of the process, however, I take a thematic approach, focusing on the roles of international actors, domestic elites, and, finally, public participation. In addition to there being a notable degree of ‘self-dealing’ and ‘deciding not to decide’ by political elites, I conclude, the constitution-making process was characterised by the international community’s ‘locking-in’ of formal commitments to liberal democracy and a ‘locking-out’ of public participation that prevented local voices from being heard by the constitution-makers themselves.
Across the world, the significance or role of Constitutions is too often understood in ways that ignore how they actually touch the lives or shape the political imaginations of ordinary people. Similarly, countries in the Global South, those that are not conventional liberal democracies, and those that have recently experienced conflict are generally underrepresented in the comparative constitutional law literature. Drawing on ethnographic insights and case-studies in Cambodia, this book provides a socio-legal account of constitutional practice under authoritarian rule and sheds light on how otherwise overlooked actors engage with constitutional language and assert constitutional agency. The Cambodian constitution is often dismissed as irrelevant, but its promises, principles and specific provisions actually matter deeply, both to the politically engaged and to ordinary people. This book highlights how many everyday contestations – over politics, religion and culture – take place In the Shadow of the Constitution.
This and the following chapter look at how infusing corruption into areas of human-rights related practice could make a difference. Here I consider transitions from dictatorship or internal armed conflict, and in particular how transitional justice has dealt with corruption. I focus on 3 emblematic transitions from different recent time periods: South Africa, Tunisia and Colombia, and add in some lessons from prior discussion of Guatemala. I find that failure to vet and control military intelligence officers, economic privatization and decentralization, and lack of attention to judicial selection and to auditing, tax and other controls contribute to the emergence of powerful alliances of corrupt officials, organized crime and predatory elites.
Kabul fell to the Taliban in August 2021 despite peace talk efforts in late 2020 and early 2021. International pundits had been predicting that Ashraf Ghani’s government might need to share power with a resurgent Taliban, but none had expected such a swift and complete takeover as the Americans readied to leave for good. Two decades of international intervention in Afghanistan were erased. The efficacy and desirability of intervention has been thrown into serious doubt, and with it the prospects for post-conflict state-building. This chapter introduces the rise, and possible fall, of the post-conflict state-building agenda. It introduces the reader to important concepts, noting the relationships between state-building, peace-building and nation-building, as well as underscoring the role of liberal ideology in shaping post-conflict state-building efforts, asking readers to reflect on what they believe external actors should, or should not, do.
In post-war Sierra Leone, a range of transitional justice mechanisms were implemented to address experiences of conflict, violence, and human rights violations. Much of the research on local transitional justice processes has focused on the work of organisations, failing to acknowledge how individual and communal dynamics shape and are shaped by these programs. Drawing on original fieldwork in Sierra Leone, Laura S. Martin moves beyond discussions measuring effectiveness and considers how people navigate their circumstances in conflict and post-conflict societies. Developing the idea of recognised and unrecognised transitional justice processes, Martin uses Fambul Tok as an example of a recognised local transitional justice program and shows how ordinary Sierra Leoneans appropriated Fambul Tok's agenda for their own purposes. Ultimately, this book highlights the crucial role of agency and the diverse range of actors involved in transitional justice processes. Justice, as Martin powerfully argues, is not something that happens to or for people, but is enacted by individuals and communities.
This chapter provides the core argument and engages with concepts and theories relevant to the book. It begins with a comprehensive literature review of the turn to the local within transitional justice. While local transitional justice mechanisms are supposed to better align with the needs and priorities of affected populations, often these programs are measured against their own goals, or normative expectations of transitional justice, which overlooks how individuals and communities navigate these programs in multiple and diverse ways. This book examines different types of agency of Sierra Leoneans in what I refer to as recognised and unrecognised local transitional justice processes. Using Fambul Tok as an example of a recognised local transitional justice program, the book explores how various types of agency are involved in constructing and shaping local TJ programs, often resulting in a range of unintended consequences. This book builds upon scholarship in a range of disciplines including peace and conflict studies, anthropology, development, politics and social and legal studies. Ultimately, the book argues that justice does not happen to or for people, but that is an act in and of itself. It illustrates how local programs and processes actually work in practice.
This reaction to the Paul Newson and Ruth Young paper entitled ‘Post-conflict ethics, archaeology and archaeological heritage. A call for discussion’ (Archaeological dialogues, 2022) supports the call for a discussion regarding archaeological ethics in post-conflict zones. Following the agreement on the fuzzy border between the state of ‘conflict’ and ‘post-conflict’, it reflects on the continuity between these two. Furthermore, the reaction adds an additional issue to the discussion, which is the ethical ground of ‘being above the conflict’. Applying a ‘holistic ethic’ approach, it reflects on the ethical assessment of archaeological practices performed by Russian archaeologists in the zones that were damaged during conflict, escalated due to the actions of the Russian government. A series of examples are shown to consider the complexity of ethical judgements in this particular case. Last but not least, the reaction claims that in some cases ethical judgements are possible and effective due to the convergence of numerous factors.
Ethics are fundamentally important to all forms of archaeological theory and practice and are embedded within many professional codes of conduct. The ethics of archaeological engagement with conflicts around the world have also been subject to scrutiny and debate. While archaeology and archaeological heritage are increasingly viewed as significant elements of post-conflict work, with much to contribute to rebuilding stable and secure societies, there has been limited acknowledgement and debate of post-conflict ethical issues and challenges for archaeologists. This paper is intended to stimulate discussion around major ethical issues, the problems and possible ways forward for post-conflict archaeology and archaeological heritage.
Intrastate armed conflict has become the most frequent and deadly form of engagement in the world after the end of the Cold War. The massification of the use of Information and Communication Technologies and the digitization of political activities have turned intrastate conflicts into information-centric conflicts. In this context, cyberspace can be a battlefield as well as a space to conduct peacebuilding activities. Drawing upon literatures in conflict resolution and cybersecurity, this chapter proposes a definition of cyber peacebuilding as an active concept that captures those actions that delegitimize online violence, build capacity within society to peacefully manage online communication, and reduce vulnerability to triggers that may spark online violence. Cyber peacebuilding can also shed light on the relationship between intrastate conflicts and global cyber peace, contributing to raise awareness about cyberthreats in the Global South. The chapter uses the cases of Colombia and South Africa in order to illustrate the challenges and prospects of cyber peacebuilding organized around the four pillars of cyberspace outlined in this volume. Moreover, it argues that cyber peacebuilding in the Global South is an essential element of the emergence of cyber peace as a global public good.
BHR is a fast-evolving interdisciplinary field and naturally its focus expands over time and new subdiscussions start to emerge. Such new discussions often appear at the intersection between BHR and other fields. This chapter briefly outlines four selected emerging discussions within the BHR field, namely: the intersection between BHR and the UN Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs), the relevance of climate change for BHR, gender perspectives on BHR, and BHR in post-conflict and transitional justice contexts.
Using the case-study of the Marš Mira, a peace march to commemorate the Srebrenica genocide of July 1995, this article explores how practices of memorialization of genocide and resistance against denial of genocide intersect, in order to gain more insight into the challenges post-conflict societies face. The march retraces the steps that the Bosniak men and boys took while fleeing the Serb army after the fall of the Srebrenica enclave. It is a powerful means of commemorating the genocide and, as such, highlights the importance of space within memorialization. Simultaneously, walking the march serves as an act of resistance to Serb narratives of denial. We argue that resistance against genocide denial and memorialization of the genocide are intricately interwoven in the incentives of Bosniaks participating in the annual Marš Mira, and that they manifest themselves in the use of the landscape in which the march takes place. Through an analysis of four incentives for walking the Marš Mira, we shed light on the challenges that Serb denialism poses to the ability of the Bosniak community to deal with the past of the Srebrenica genocide.
Experiments are increasingly used to better understand various aspects of civil conflict. A critical barrier to peace is often conflict recurrence after a settlement or other attempt to end fighting between sides. This chapter examines the growing literature on experiments in post-conflict contexts to understand their contributions and limitations to our understanding of the dynamics in this period. It argues that work on post-conflict contexts takes two different perspectives: a peace stabilization approach emphasizes special problems from civil conflict, including how to sustain peace agreements, while a peace consolidation approach emphasizes problems common to statebuilding, including how to reconstruct communities. Both seek in part to prevent conflict recurrence, though, and that is the focus of this chapter. Although more existing theory links stabilization programs with enduring peace, more existing experiments examine consolidation programs. Both approaches would benefit from new work. Post-conflict contexts in general, however, are difficult environments in which to work, and so experiments face three interrelated challenges: first, these contexts present special ethical challenges due to both the high stakes of peace and the sensitivity of subjects; second, these are complex treatments often conducted simultaneously by different actors, and these are treatments that depend on both institutional change and behavioral responses, so change is the constant in these contexts; and, third, these contexts also face heterogeneity in terms of programs but also contexts that mean the lessons may not travel even among post-conflict settings. Despite these challenges, experiments in post-conflict contexts hold promise for advancing our understanding of enduring peace.
Social unrest and warfare in emerging markets can create opportunities for innovation. By focusing on Colombia, where armed conflict and post-conflict challenges have motivated innovation in the military and business domains, this chapter examines innovation in places where social demands create opportunities for deep societal transformations. We describe the processes by which the armed forces developed innovative military strategies in wartime to win an unconventional and long-standing guerrilla war. During the post-conflict period, businesses created new business models, going much further than traditional practices of social responsibility to become real actors in building a peaceful society and contributing to the economic development of regions historically affected by the armed conflict.
In 2016, Rwanda began extracting methane gas from Lake Kivu, an innovative project designed to reduce the risk of a deadly spontaneous gas release while providing clean and renewable power to an energy-strapped region. Based on qualitative research in Rwanda from 2016 to 2019, Doughty, Uwizeye, and Uwimana use the Kivu methane extraction project to ask, How do we balance urgent electrification needs with responsible energy policies that respond to environmental risks, particularly in post-conflict contexts? Analyzing the Kivu methane projects as “green extractive humanitarianism” provides cautions within the promises of sustainability and “green capitalism.”
There is little value in affirming the existence of the right to victims of armed conflict to reparation if it is not clear how massive numbers of victims could access to reparation. The chapter shows how accessibility is essential for guaranteeing this right, offering concrete proposals. As human rights law is an important tool for determining the existence of this right, experiences implementing massive forms of reparation for victims of human rights violations also serve to determine its operationalization. This requires adapting basic notions about the right to reparation designed for addressing individual claims to situations where individualized methods for determining rights will result on the exclusion of the vast majority of victims. The chapter examines the experiences of the UN Compensation Commission and the Ethiopia-Eritrea Compensation Commission, as well as of reparations programs implemented in Guatemala, Peru, Sierra Leone, Colombia, and Chile. It analyses how these policies determined the violations to cover, reparation measures, registering victims, and guaranteeing accessibility of vulnerable victims, women and those frequently excluded. These experiences offer criteria for interpreting notions of proportionality, restitutio in integrum, compensation, and standards of evidence, as well as the relationship with judicial reparation, reconstruction, and development in post conflict situations.
The shift to a more victim-oriented understanding of the right to reparation has been developing in tandem with the successive creation of international criminal judiciaries, as well as ad hoc reparation mechanisms, established since the early 1990s, in parallel with the drafting of relevant UN instruments. However, the abstract question about the existence of such a right is not particularly helpful because the individual substantive right and procedural right are closely intertwined. The concrete content of the right to reparation has to be defined under specific historical circumstances, taking into account the specific challenges of concrete post-conflict constellations. The substance of a right to reparation only can and should be defined as the result of an adequate procedure established under such circumstances. Accordingly, this chapter, based on the analyses of various reparation mechanisms so far established, contributes to identify and elaborate the detailed elements of the right to reparation, including the basic shared principles and methods through which a mechanism could effectively process individual claims. This also clarifies the shifting purpose of reparation not only to deliver remedial justice to victims, but also to realise restorative justice which emphasises reconciliation in States and local communities at the post-conflict stage.
During times of military occupation following an armed conflict it is not uncommon for the victors to implement mass detention programmes aimed both at providing security and bringing criminals to justice. International human rights regimes serve as overarching guidance for these programmes but are subject to broad interpretations, so it is often unclear what regulations or laws should inform day-to-day operations. Military and civilian lawyers may find themselves practising in a foreign jurisdiction for which they have no training or experience, let alone licensure. Law enforcement officers and military police are forced to adapt long-held practices to a new environment. Questions arise as to the rights that detained individuals possess, as these programmes frequently combine rules from different legal systems with no clear authoritative hierarchy. Attention is focused on the treatment of detained individuals with far less emphasis placed on their due process rights or other fundamental legal freedoms. This article examines one such instance, the US detention programme in Iraq, and highlights the numerous ethical and professional conflicts presented when members of one justice system are transplanted into another without proper preparation and background.
Taking inspiration from Edna Longley’s notion of the ‘cultural corridor’, this chapter emphasises Post-Agreement literature’s commitment to Northern Ireland as a place of interchange that enables and envisages various crossings. Rather than accepting the ‘post’ as a temporal marker that designates a distinct break with what came before, it contends that contemporary Northern writing raises awareness of what remains to be worked through and addressed. If critics have suggested that literature from Northern Ireland reflects its ongoing political state of liminal suspension, this chapter seeks to recover the recalcitrant dynamics of literary liminality as a crosscurrent to the homogenising and teleological thrust of the progress narratives underpinning both the Agreement and Brexit. This emphasis on the active energies suggested by the motif of crosscurrents allows a revision of the more passive concepts of the cultural corridor and suspension and foregrounds the potential of contemporary Northern Irish literature to establish new affiliations and reconciliatory discussions.
How does wartime violence shape post-war women's representation? Does past violence make women more or less likely to run for office? And if they do run, are they getting elected? This article argues that violence influences women's representation in contrasting ways at these two stages. In wartime, women have more opportunities to gain leadership skills, which likely increases the number of women running for office after the war. However, past violence also increases threat perceptions among voters. This, combined with gender stereotypes about male and female politicians, likely reduces voter support for female candidates. Using pre- and post-war electoral and wartime violence data at the municipal level from Bosnia, the authors present evidence that is consistent with their argument. The results hold across a number of robustness tests, including accounting for post-war demographic gender balance and women's party list placement.
Do rebel elites who gain access to political power through power-sharing reward their own ethnic constituencies after war? The authors argue that power-sharing governments serve as instruments for rebel elites to access state resources. This access allows elites to allocate state resources disproportionately to their regional power bases, particularly the settlement areas of rebel groups' ethnic constituencies. To test this proposition, the authors link information on rebel groups in power-sharing governments in post-conflict countries in Africa to information about ethnic support for rebel organizations. They combine this information with sub-national data on ethnic groups' settlement areas and data on night light emissions to proxy for sub-national variation in resource investments. Implementing a difference-in-differences empirical strategy, the authors show that regions with ethnic groups represented through rebels in the power-sharing government exhibit higher levels of night light emissions than regions without such representation. These findings help to reconceptualize post-conflict power-sharing arrangements as rent-generating and redistributive institutions.