Crucible of War: The Great African War and the Fate of Nations
The ins and outs of the African Wars of Independence are out of the scope of this work, deserving far more detailed treatment elsewhere. We will instead focus our attention to the Commonwealth’s role in the wider conflict, in particular its protection of its allies in the south, west and north of the continent. But first, let us consider the headlines facts of the conflict. The war is generally dated from August 2014, the start of the protests against the Tunisian royal government but in practice the fighting had not fully spread across the continent until midway through 2016. By this time the conflict was no longer just a story of protest and counter-protest but a strategic fight between hastily-organised standing armies. The war is generally held to have been ended by the Damascus Accords of 28 December 2021 but, again, “generally” is very much the operative word here. The Damascus Accords were vital in that representatives from every African country signed a piece of paper confirming the recognition of every other country and began the process of accession to the UN. But in truth the continent would be the home to sporadic protests and rebellions for some time, even if its borders were now stable. The conflict saw the widest and most dramatic geographical changes on any continent during the modern era: on 1 January 2014 Africa was home to 35 nations (if we include the French Departments of the Maghreb and Reunion); on 31 December 2021 it was home to 89.
Other than that, the casualty figures of the conflict make for grim reading. 6,577,000 people are estimated to have been killed on all sides, with another approximately 580,000 civilian casualties, although as many have noted, the distinction between civilian and military deaths was notional at many points and in many theatres during the conflict. In addition, nearly 13,000,000 people were displaced during the conflict, either as refugees (causing serious internal instability in Italy, Spain and Arabia) or internally. It was a grim and bloody conflict without parallel since the end of the World War.
Commonwealth interests in the conflict were focused on protecting allies and the territorial integrity of the two member states on the continent. Despite some concerns, there was relatively little internal unrest in either East Africa or Rhodesia, a testament to the half-century long process of nation building in both of those countries. (Although largely a forgotten figure nowadays, Garfield Todd’s two decades in power in Rhodesia, turning it from the road to becoming South Africa into a multi-racial democracy probably makes him one of the great democratic heroes of the 20th century.) Commonwealth ‘peacekeepers’ were also deployed, following both consultation with the other members of the Security Council and the requests of the local governments, in Gambia, Sierra Leone, Ghana and Katanga. However, Commonwealth forces worked hard to remain confined to these countries and did not venture over the border into the wider conflict.
The other theatre in which Commonwealth citizens, if not the military formally, were deeply engaged was the Sahara. Here, a series of Commonwealth military advisors and adventurers (others might say mercenaries but the difference is largely semantic) became deeply embedded in the struggles of the various Tuareg clans to create their own nation. A particularly prominent figure was Rory Stewart, who was intimately involved in the Tuareg rebellion almost from the moment of its beginning in late 2014. In 2019, he conducted a wide-ranging tour of the Commonwealth, raising money for the Tuaregs and attempting to push the Commonwealth into more active support. What Stewart’s precise relationship was with Commonwealth governmental and security forces remains unclear, with persistent rumours abounding of him being a Five Eyes agent. It is certainly true that, following the signing of the Damascus Accords, the Tuareg Republic of Azawad had notably friendly relations with the Commonwealth, with a number of contracts being signed allowing Tuareg-Commonwealth joint ventures to begin the construction of solar battery plants in the Sahara over the course of the 2020s.
In the south of Africa, there was remarkably little territorial change, certainly when compared to the rest of the continent. The former South African province of South West Africa (already independent since 2003) was further divided into the republics of Hereroland and Namibia in September 2020. In South Africa, a process of political polarisation resulted in the Bantu Nationalist Party of Julius Malema winning a narrow majority in parliamentary elections of 2019. Malema announced that the country would change its name to the Republic of Bantuland from 1 January 2020.
Elsewhere, the two countries which came out of the conflict relatively well were Ethiopia and Egypt. Ethiopia successfully helped Djibouti transition to a multi-party, if flawed, democracy and negotiated a customs union with Somalia and Djibouti, the culmination of a long-term aim of the Ethiopian diplomatic elite. Egypt lost territory during the conflict, with the non-Arab populations of Darfur and Sudan seceding. But the secessions happened with the minimum of armed conflict and Egyptian diplomats are regarded as having played a major role in bringing all the parties together at Damascus.
Political maps of Africa before the beginning of the protests against the Tunisian monarchy in August 2014 (left) and following the signing of the Damascus Accords in December 2021 (right)
It was far from a perfect map and it remained to be seen what the survivability of the peace would be. The commentator Timothy Garton Ash described the 89 delegations in Damascus as representing “not so much the 89 nation states on the continent as they were the 89 groups who could afford the transportation and accommodation costs.” In particular, the Republic of West Arabia existed as a strange diagonal between Morocco and Azawad, connecting the Arab communities on the Atlantic and Mediterranean coasts via a thin strip of the Sahara without natural borders. It existed mainly under the sufferance of Azawad and Morocco with the looming threat of a cryptic remark made by Arabian Prime Minister Khaled Khoja that the country would “protect our West Arabian cousins should the timing be right.”
Nonetheless, the borders as they now existed at least approximated the continent’s ethnic divisions and many post-colonial scholars argued that only now could the continent face the future fully independent.