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04 June 2020 | Story Prof Hussein Solomon. | Photo Sonia Small
Prof Hussein Solomon.

As young Political Science undergraduate student, phrases such as ‘national security’ made sense. It was the 1980s and the machinations of the Cold War rivals fascinated me. In the national context of apartheid South Africa, the national security management system of former President PW Botha drew my attention. The realpolitik of the time, both global and national, resulted in me avidly reading countless tomes of first-strike capabilities of the nuclear powers and regional destabilisation strategies of the apartheid pariah. 

National security considerations vs lived experiences of ordinary people
With the passing of time, I grew increasingly disillusioned with national security as a suitable fit for contemporary times on account of two reasons. First, national security considerations were far removed from the lived experiences of ordinary people. A US factory worker in Michigan is more concerned about the closure of his local automotive plant than the machinations of Beijing in the South China Sea. National security always reflected the concerns of the elites in their respective societies, as opposed to the bread-and-butter considerations of the vast majority of humanity. In the African context, such elite-driven state security was often purchased at the expense of the human security of ordinary citizens. Here, the guns of the military were often directed at marginalised and hapless citizens, as opposed to being directed at keeping borders safe from a possible foreign invading force. National security therefore needs to be expanded to incorporate the concerns of ordinary citizens. Second, in this rapidly globalising world, insecurity anywhere is a threat to security everywhere. The COVID-19 pandemic illustrates the point well, whether one resides in Wuhan, Milan, Moscow, New York, Sao Paolo or Cape Town. The world is one, and national security needs to be jettisoned in favour of more integrated conceptions of security.

Regional mobilisation
The current locust plague sweeping across East Africa vividly highlights the need for more expanded definitions of security. This locust plague has been labelled by the UN as an “extremely alarming and unprecedented threat”. Currently, Sudan and South Sudan, Ethiopia, Kenya, Somalia, and Uganda are all affected by swarms of locusts travelling at 90 miles per day and eating their own body weight in crops. To put matters into perspective, a swarm of locusts of only one-third of a square mile can eat the same amount of food as 35 000 adults. This undermines food security across the region. To exacerbate matters, the lockdowns as a result of the coronavirus has hampered efforts to eradicate the swarms. Regional governments are overwhelmed, as Helen Adoa, Uganda’s Minister of Agriculture, admitted. This admission highlights the fallacy of national security in a globalising world. Regional governments need effective regional organisations to support their efforts and should partner with international organisations, including the UN Food and Agricultural Organization, civil society, and business, to holistically respond to the threat. I write this paper on Africa Day, 25 May – a day celebrating African solidarity. 

This African solidarity stands in sharp contrast to the realpolitik and insular politics embraced by the concept of national security and its corollary national interest. Sovereignty in defined areas needs to be ceded to regional organisations and global institutions in an effort to craft truly regional and global solutions. No one country can deal with either COVID-19 or swarms of marauding locusts.

An integrated understanding of security 
The origins of the current locust infestation currently overwhelming East Africa also points to the imperative for integrated understandings of security. Climate change has created the ideal breeding ground for the locust population in the Arabian Peninsula to increase by 8 000 percent. A phenomenon known as the Indian Ocean Dipole created unusually dry weather in the east, which resulted in wildfires ravaging Australia. The same phenomenon, however, also created cyclones and flooding in parts of the Arabian Peninsula and Somalia. The resultant moist sand and vegetation proved the ideal conditions in which desert locusts could thrive. Aiding the burgeoning locust populations is the collapsed state authorities in both Yemen and Somalia, ravaged by civil war and fighting Al Shabaab insurgents. As the writ of the ‘governments’ in both Sanaa and Mogadishu hardly goes beyond the capital, neither country can even launch a national response to the locust plague. 

The origins of the swarms of locusts devastating east Africa link climate change, civil war, state authority and capacity, and the COVID-19 pandemic. This stresses the need for holistic solutions which are rooted in expanded and integrated conceptions of security. We cannot afford to work in silos at national, regional, or international level.

Extraordinary times call for more holistic conceptions of security. The Cold War is over, my undergraduate lectures on security are a poor fit to today’s realities. The world stands at a pivotal point, much as it stood following the Thirty Years’ War in Europe and the resultant 1648 Treaty of Westphalia, the 1815 Congress of Vienna following the Napoleonic Wars, and the aftermath of the Second World War. We need to be brave and refashion our security architecture to reflect integrated, global, and human security considerations. 

This article was written by Prof Hussein Solomon, Senior Lecturer in the Department of Political Studies and Governance, and first appeared on Muslims in Africa.

News Archive

Sites of memory. Sites of trauma. Sites of healing.
2015-04-01

Judge Albie Sachs – human rights activist and co-creator of South Africa’s constitution – presented the first Vice Chancellor’s Lecture on Trauma, Memory, and Representations of the Past on 26 March 2015 on the Bloemfontein Campus.

His lecture, ‘Sites of memory, sites of conscience’, forms part of a series of lectures that will focus on how the creative arts represent trauma and memory – and how these representations may ultimately pave the way to healing historical wounds. This series is incorporated into the five-year research project, led by Prof Pumla Gobodo-Madikizela, and funded by the Mellon Foundation.

Sites of memory and conscience – and healing

“Deep in solitary confinement, I read in the Bible: ‘the lion lay down with the lamb … swords will be beaten into ploughshares.’” And with these opening words, Judge Sachs took the audience on a wistful journey to the places in our country that ache from the past but are reaching for a better future at the same time.

Some of the sites of memory and conscience Judge Sachs discussed included the Apartheid Museum, Liliesleaf, District Six Museum, and the Red Location Museum. But perhaps most powerful of them all is Robben Island.

Robben Island

“The strength of Robben Island,” Judge Sachs said, “comes from its isolation. Its quietness speaks”. Former prisoners of the island now accompany visitors on their tours of the site, retelling their personal experiences. It was found that, the quieter the ex-prisoners imparted their stories, “the gentler and softer their memories; the more powerful the impact,” Judge Sachs remarked. Instead of anger and denouncement, this reverence provides a space for visitors’ own emotions to emerge. This intense and powerful site has become a living memory elevated into a place of healing.

After Judge Sachs visited the National Women’s Memorial in Bloemfontein some years ago, he came to an acute realisation as he read the stories, experienced the grief, and saw the small relics that imprisoned commandoes from Ceylon and St Helena sculpted. “It’s so like us,” he thought, “our people on Robben Island making a saxophone out of seaweed, our people carving little things. It was so like us. It was another form of inhumanity to human beings in another period.”

The Constitutional Court

The Constitutional Court next to the Old Fort Prison is also a profound site of trauma and healing. Bricks from the awaiting trial lock-up were built into the court chambers. “We don’t suppress it, we don’t say let’s move on. We acknowledge the pain of the past. We live in it, but we are not trapped in it. We South Africans are capable of transcending, of getting beyond it,” Judge Sachs said.

Transforming swords into ploughshares

Judge Sachs had great praise for Prof Gobodo-Madikizela’s research project on Trauma, Memory, and Representations of the Past. “You convert and transform the very swords, the very instruments, the very metal in our country. In a sense, you almost transform the very people and thoughts and dreams and fears and terrors into the ploughshares; into positivity.”

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