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29 March 2021 | Story Prof Theo Neethling | Photo Johan Roux
Prof Theo Neethling is from the Department of Political Studies and Governance at the University of the Free State

The Cabo Delgado province in the northernmost part of the long Mozambican seaboard is now home to Africa’s three largest liquefied natural gas (LNG) projects; these projects have attracted many of the world’s major multinational energy companies, accompanied by massive LNG investments. There can be little doubt that the discovery of rich LNG reserves is a potential game changer for Mozambique’s economy and the development agenda of the country. It is potentially an opportunity for the rapid advancement of a country that currently ranks close to the bottom of the United Nation’s Human Development Index. World Bank data annually ranks Mozambique as among the poorest countries in the world.

Mozambique ‘has hit the jackpot’

Since 2011, rich LNG reserves have been discovered off the coast of Cabo Delgado in the Rovuma Basin. With the discovery of major offshore gas fields, many observers have been prompted to suggest that Mozambique, one of the poorest countries in the world, ‘has hit the jackpot’ – and recently, it has been claimed that by the mid-2020s, Mozambique could become one of the top ten LNG producers globally. Together, the gas projects are estimated to be worth $60 billion, and this could obviously revolutionise Mozambique’s economy of $15 billion.

However, despite the billions in investments by major multinational energy companies since 2012, the people of Cabo Delgado are yet to see the material benefits from these projects. One of the biggest risks for international investors in the LNG industry is the many unknowns associated with the threat posed by the militant Islamic movement, Ansar al-Sunna, which has especially been active in the Cabo Delgado province since 2017. Whereas Ansar al-Sunna, locally known as Al-Shabaab, initially advocated the ‘purification’ of Islam in Mozambique by preaching a moving away from the practices of the mystical traditions of Muslim Sufis – who are the majority of Muslims in Mozambique – and projecting Sufis as degenerate, the movement eventually made it clear that its goal was to impose Sharia law (Islamic law) in Cabo Delgado.

Since independence in 1994, the central government of Maputo has lacked a monopoly over the means of violence in its territory and its long coastline. In this context, Renamo regularly clashed with the central government in a 16-year civil war that claimed more than a million lives. Fast forward to the future – Ansar al-Sunna with its ISIS links now poses the main security threat to the Mozambican government and its armed forces.

The situation has gone from bad to worse

The escalation of violence and armed conflict since early 2020 has raised some pressing questions over the future of LNG investments, and even put the future of the LNG industry at high risk. Obviously, the foreign companies with their substantial investments feel threatened, especially at the current stage where final investment decisions have to be taken.

In recent months, the situation in Cabo Delgado has gone from bad to worse. In November 2020, dozens of people were reportedly beheaded by Islamic militants in northern Mozambique. Now the beheadings and bloodshed have spread to the town of Palma; taking the bloodshed to another level. This is not good news for the LNG industry in Mozambique, as Palma is supposed to become the manufacturing hub where hundreds of skilled workers will be located.

Amid the development of an increasingly alarming human rights situation towards the end of last year, including the killing of civilians by insurgents, the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights, Michelle Bachelet, has appealed for urgent measures to protect civilians in what she described as a “desperate” situation and one of “grave human rights abuses”. She also stated that more than 350 000 people have been displaced since 2018.

In conclusion, there is little doubt that Islamist insurgents have managed to increase the scale of their activities in Cabo Delgado, and that the lack of governance and a proper security response by both the Mozambican government and Southern African leaders make this a case of high political risk, which can potentially jeopardise the successful unlocking of the country’s resource wealth. Until now, the main LNG installations and sites have not been targeted or directly affected, but the security risks to these vast investments – and Mozambique’s development potential – are certainly on the increase and posing a threat to the LNG industry.

Opinion article by Prof Theo Neethling, Department of Political Studies and Governance, University of the Free State 

 


News Archive

Media: Sunday Times
2006-05-20

Sunday Times, 4 June 2006

True leadership may mean admitting disunity
 

In this edited extract from the inaugural King Moshoeshoe Memorial Lecture at the University of the Free State, Professor Njabulo S Ndebele explores the leadership challenges facing South Africa

RECENT events have created a sense that we are undergoing a serious crisis of leadership in our new democracy. An increasing number of highly intelligent, sensitive and committed South Africans, across class, racial and cultural spectrums, confess to feeling uncertain and vulnerable as never before since 1994.

When indomitable optimists confess to having a sense of things unhinging, the misery of anxiety spreads. We have the sense that events are spiralling out of control and that no one among the leadership of the country seems to have a definitive handle on things.

There can be nothing more debilitating than a generalised and undefined sense of anxiety in the body politic. It breeds conspiracies and fear.

There is an impression that a very complex society has developed, in the last few years, a rather simple, centralised governance mechanism in the hope that delivery can be better and more quickly driven. The complexity of governance then gets located within a single structure of authority rather than in the devolved structures envisaged in the Constitution, which should interact with one another continuously, and in response to their specific settings, to achieve defined goals. Collapse in a single structure of authority, because there is no robust backup, can be catastrophic.

The autonomy of devolved structures presents itself as an impediment only when visionary cohesion collapses. Where such cohesion is strong, the impediment is only illusory, particularly when it encourages healthy competition, for example, among the provinces, or where a province develops a character that is not necessarily autonomous politically but rather distinctive and a special source of regional pride. Such competition brings vibrancy to the country. It does not necessarily challenge the centre.

Devolved autonomy is vital in the interests of sustainable governance. The failure of various structures to actualise their constitutionally defined roles should not be attributed to the failure of the prescribed governance mechanism. It is too early to say that what we have has not worked. The only viable corrective will be in our ability to be robust in identifying the problems and dealing with them concertedly.

We have never had social cohesion in South Africa — certainly not since the Natives’ Land Act of 1913. What we definitely have had over the decades is a mobilising vision. Could it be that the mobilising vision, mistaken for social cohesion, is cracking under the weight of the reality and extent of social reconstruction, and that the legitimate framework for debating these problems is collapsing? If that is so, are we witnessing a cumulative failure of leadership?

I am making a descriptive rather than an evaluative inquiry. I do not believe that there is any single entity to be blamed. It is simply that we may be a country in search of another line of approach. What will it be?

I would like to suggest two avenues of approach — an inclusive model and a counter-intuitive model of leadership.

In an inclusive approach, leadership is exercised not only by those who have been put in some position of power to steer an organisation or institution. Leadership is what all of us do when we express, sincerely, our deepest feelings and thoughts; when we do our work, whatever it is, with passion and integrity.

Counter-intuitive leadership lies in the ability of leaders to read a problematic situation, assess probable outcomes and then recognise that those outcomes will only compound the problem. Genuine leadership, in this sense, requires going against probability in seeking unexpected outcomes. That’s what happened when we avoided a civil war and ended up with an “unexpected” democracy.

Right now, we may very well hear desperate calls for unity, when the counter-intuitive imperative would be to acknowledge disunity. A declaration of unity where it manifestly does not appear to exist will fail to reassure.

Many within the “broad alliance” might have the view that the mobilising vision of old may have transformed into a strategy of executive steering with a disposition towards an expectation of compliance. No matter how compelling the reasons for that tendency, it may be seen as part of a cumulative process in which popular notions of democratic governance are apparently undermined and devalued; and where public uncertainty in the midst of seeming crisis induces fear which could freeze public thinking at a time when more voices ought to be heard.

Could it be that part of the problem is that we are unable to deal with the notion of opposition? We are horrified that any of us could be seen to have become “the opposition”. The word has been demonised. In reality, it is time we began to anticipate the arrival of a moment when there is no longer a single, overwhelmingly dominant political force as is currently the case. Such is the course of history. The measure of the maturity of the current political environment will be in how it can create conditions that anticipate that moment rather than seek to prevent it. We see here once more the essential creativity of the counter-intuitive imperative.

This is the formidable challenge of a popular post-apartheid political movement. Can it conceptually anticipate a future when it is no longer overwhelmingly in control, in the form in which it is currently, and resist, counter-intuitively, the temptation to prevent such an eventuality? Successfully resisting such an option would enable its current vision and its ultimate legacy to our country to manifest in different articulations, which then contend for social influence. In this way, the vision never really dies; it simply evolves into higher, more complex forms of itself. Consider the metaphor of flying ants replicating the ant community by establishing new ones.

We may certainly experience the meaning of comradeship differently, where we will now have “comrades on the other side”.

Any political movement that imagines itself as a perpetual entity should look at the compelling evidence of history. Few movements have survived those defining moments when they should have been more elastic, and that because they were not, did not live to see the next day.

I believe we may have reached a moment not fundamentally different from the sobering, yet uplifting and vision-making, nation-building realities that led to Kempton Park in the early ’90s. The difference between then and now is that the black majority is not facing white compatriots across the negotiating table. Rather, it is facing itself: perhaps really for the first time since 1994. Could we apply to ourselves the same degree of inventiveness and rigorous negotiation we displayed leading up to the adoption or our Constitution?

This is not a time for repeating old platitudes. It is the time, once more, for vision.

In the total scheme of things, the outcome could be as disastrous as it could be formative and uplifting, setting in place the conditions for a true renaissance that could be sustained for generations to come.

Ndebele is Vice-Chancellor of the University of Cape Town and author of the novel The Cry of Winnie Mandela

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