In 2005, at the peak of the civil war between the Government of Uganda and the Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA) there were roughly 1.8 million internally displaced people (IDPs) living in 251 different ‘protected camps’ across 11 districts in Northern Uganda. The roots of the conflict dates back to 1986 when current President Yoweri Museveni and his National Resistance Army (MRA) overthrew former president Tito Okello, who came from the northern Acholi tribe. Museveni came to power promising to restore stability, security and respect for human rights. People from the northern parts were, however, antagonistic to a government led by a person from the south. Museveni’s policies of downplaying ethnicity as a political, organising principle were seen as a way to undermine the political voices of the north, creating further trepidation in the north, causing rebel groups to emerge. Multiple insurgencies emerged from Acholiland, of which the Joseph Kony-led LRA would eventually rise as the most enduring and destructive rebel movement.
In response, the government in 1996 escalated its fight against the LRA through its scorched-earth policy. This included ordering all Acholis to vacate their homes in 48 h, forcing them to resettle in ‘protected camps’, thus swiftly turning the citizens into internally displaced people (IDPs). The rationale was to separate civilians and combatants in order for the Ugandan People’s Defence Force (UPDF) to identify and target the combatants. The government invoked a humanitarian reasoning for the encampment process, arguing the camps would enable the UPDF to better offer physical protection. Seeing the political aspects of the insurgency, however, allows analysing the encampment and recasting the civilians as IDPs deprived of their civil rights as a way to control and quell political opposition from arising in the north, thus being instrumental in the Kampala-based state formation process.
The so-called ‘protected camps’ did not receive sufficient physical protection as the UPDF used its limited resources to focus on fighting the LRA and not protecting the civilians. This left the camp borders porous, allowing the LRA to hide and attack within the camps. The civilians, moreover, were forced to move outside the camps to maintain agricultural production, collect firewood, go to the markets and so on, as there was a critical lack of services and provisions within the camp. Leaving the camps to sustain their livelihood, the civilians feared not only being attacked by the LRA but also being associated with the LRA and consequently reprimanded by the UPDP since the government’s policy criminalised out-of-camp activities. Together, the LRA atrocities, the UPDP’s response to the LRA and the government’s encampment policies and poor camp management produced a massive humanitarian crisis (Branch 2011).
International humanitarian assistance was gradually phased in to help respond to the ensuing humanitarian crisis. In response, the government reallocated its camp funding into the UPDF, making the humanitarian involvement at least partly complicit in sustaining the conflict as it allowed the government to focus on a military and not political solution to the conflict, whilst international humanitarian actors assumed responsibility for managing the camps. Meanwhile, most state building and development activities in the north were lying fallow with neither funding nor focus from the government and international actors.
Northern Uganda experienced a dramatic expansion of externally funded, humanitarian civil society organisations from the late 1990. The intervening humanitarian regime had its primary function in administrating camp populations, causing civilians to be self-disciplined into non-political forms of organisation rather than empowered to pursue their own aspiration. The massive influx of humanitarian actors proliferated after the head of UN OCHA, Jan Egeland, in 2003, brought attention to the conflict, describing it as the worst forgotten humanitarian crisis on earth, followed by pledges and appeals to beef up relief operations. The ensuing CNN-effect made humanitarian funding skyrocket, from $34 million in 2002 to its 2008 peak of $238 million, causing Northern Uganda, in the words of an informant, to suffer from NGO-obesity, creating an aid-based civil society and an economy almost entirely contingent on external funding.
The peak of the external involvement in 2008 also marked the beginning of the end of the humanitarian crisis—at least nominally—as the government started a process of recasting the situation from being one of humanitarian crisis to one of recovery and development in order to reclaim its sovereignty in Northern Uganda. Instrumental in this move was the government’s closure of the ‘protected camps’, thus forcing the internally displaced population to return to their ancestral fields which had been lying fallow for over a decade. The government’s discursive recast of the situation happened partly in response to how the humanitarian actors undermined the state through their comprehensive operations and antagonising advocacy work, and partly because the UPDF had pushed the LRA out of Uganda. The government took the Kampala-based donors to the north, showing them that people were returning home, that the camps were being closed and that the conflict was over as the LRA had been pushed into the neighbouring countries. Only seeing the surface of the situation, the donors were persuaded that the crisis was over and to move their funding from humanitarian activities into development aid, notably in the form of budget support to the government’s own recovery and reconstruction plans in the north.
The transition happened in spite of the persistent humanitarian sufferings and needs in the post-conflict period. The recast had detrimental effects for ongoing activities—‘too many NGOs withdrew too soon with too much unfinished business’ was the general story told by informants, arguably leaving a humanitarian vacuum for the many civilians who after years in the protected camps were forced to leave, returning to their homelands and districts which in the meantime had received minimal government and donor attention regarding social and infrastructure development.
Admittedly, representatives of local authorities, humanitarian and development NGOs and community leaders all expressed that there no longer was an ongoing crisis per se given that the armed conflict had ended, which warranted a move into recovery and development. Yet, they held there were numerous concerns with the immediate camp closure and the depleting humanitarian funding. Although the LRA had been pushed out of Uganda, it still waged attacks but with plummeting frequency from neighbouring DRC and South Sudan.
The sudden decommissioning of the IDP-camps undermined the sustainability of the humanitarian’s work. The process of replacement was, moreover, full of tensions as the IDPs themselves were never consulted about their repatriation as stated by the principles of Durable Solutions for IDPs. Formally, the government subscribed to these principles. In practice, however, the authorities wanted the displaced people to return to their rural homes as quickly as possible, arguably as a way to reclaim its humanitarian sovereignty and as a token of stability and the transition to recovery.
The returning IDPs, however, were faced with a collapsed state apparatus that had received little attention from both donors and the central state during the decades of armed conflict, during which the many NGOs in effect had replaced the state in terms of service delivery and protection efforts. The humanitarian activities during the crisis had, moreover, addressed the immediate and present concerns, but in so doing the intervening actors neglected foreseeing the future, post-conflict needs and concerns. Land rights, in particular, became a critical hotspot causing for violent conflict. Many families saw their land they were forced to move from appropriated when returning from the camps, causing for legal disputes erupting into violent conflict due to the lack of formalised tenure and a penal system to settle the conflicts.
The camp closure not only degraded the livelihood fundament and basic services provided by the humanitarian actors. The ensuing forced resettlement also dismantled the social fabric that had been established within the camps. Together, this exacerbated the humanitarian concerns and needs in the post-camp, recovery phase despite the conflict had formally been called off. These concerns were further exacerbated as the humanitarian actors started to phase out after losing their rationale and operational consent when the government did recast the crisis situation as one of recovery. In the areas recovering from decades of armed conflict, civil society and local authorities reported about concerns related to children’s rights, sexual and gender-based violence, poverty, unemployment, food insecurity, violence, conflict over access and rights to land, unexploded ordinances and weapons, illiteracy and a general lack of basic services such as health, social protection, education and water.
Responding to the transition—principles and pragmatics
Are these concerns of a humanitarian or development character? Within which realm do they Uganda. Indeed, perhaps with the exemption of the contentious land rights, all other issues are found throughout the country where they are addressed by development actors. The main difference, however, is the magnitude and complexity of these issues caused by decades of conflict. These issues, moreover, became exacerbated due to limited attention given to infrastructure development and state building during the conflict, together giving these concerns both a temporal and spatial diffusion outreaching any other national context.
Generally, the humanitarian actors’ response to the government’s situation recast can be grouped into three categories: those who withdrew with reference to their humanitarian mandate; those who relocated their operations and those who maintained presence but refocusing and reorganising their aid activities. Of the first category, one finds the UNHCR, the ICRC and the MSF. The UNHCR had to withdraw as it is dependent on both the government’s consent and donor funding to operate. The ICRC and MSF—being actors that well beyond this specific case are renowned for their strict and verbatim understanding of the humanitarian principles—withdrew with reference to their humanitarian mandate as the situation moved into recovery and development. They acknowledged the critical situation and the persistent needs but feared breaching humanitarian principles, explicitly invoking a hierarchy by holding humanitarian principles over pragmatic approaches. The second category involved several larger, international NGOs that sought to pay heed to the humanitarian principles whilst simultaneously remaining operational in Uganda due to funding requirements. This was enabled by relocating operations to the north-eastern Karamoja-region where the indigenous pastoralists’ cattle raiding dynamics, climate change, land scarcity and nomadic transborder movement now emerged as a humanitarian hotspot requiring intervention. The third category involves organisations that took a more pragmatic stance to the discursive recast of the situation in the north and its consent and funding implications. Disagreeing about the underpinning assessment and recognising the persistent concerns, some actors reframed their programmes into development aid, which warranted both operational legitimacy and external, financial support. Despite scaling down their activities due to the plummeting of funds, these organisations gradually aligned themselves with regular development activities, such as building schools, education, reproductive health, vocational and livelihood training, agricultural extension programmes and reintegration projects.
These organisations, in disagreeing about the government’s assessment to warrant the discursive recast of the situation, took a more pragmatic stance regarding the humanitarian principles. Humanitarian actors that took a more pragmatic stance, argued that the government’s rhetorical recast of the situation was unsubstantiated, did not reflect real changes on the ground and was motivated by having external organisations to withdraw. As argued above, the discursive recast did not eliminate humanitarian concerns. Some were even exacerbated when people had to migrate as the camps closed. Moreover, the organisations were concerned that their donors did not realise the persistent humanitarian needs and that the resettlement of civilians, which persuaded donors about the discursive recast, in fact was a forced one caused by the government’s closure of the camps. Against this backdrop, several organisations maintained their operational activities, arguing that their commitment to the civilians and those suffering in the post-conflict period trumps the government’s rendering of the situation as well as the sanctity of the humanitarian principles. ‘We are committed to helping people in need, not to maintain some abstract principles’, one informant held. Reflecting similar sentiments, several organisations reoriented and redefined their support, moving from explicit humanitarian assistance into development aid ‘but with a significant humanitarian touch’, I was told. For instance, the Norwegian Refugee Council, despite significantly scaling down its activities, moved into infrastructure development by building schools. For humanitarian purposes, this was inscribed as part of the education in emergencies discourse, although there was no emergency and even those doing the work perceived it as a typical development activity (Lie 2017). Initiatives from, amongst others, the Justice and Reconciliation Project, Save the Children, and Refugee Law Project all received less humanitarian funding, yet they aspired to maintain their activities with reference to persistent needs. Whilst some of these organisations are so-called dual-mandate organisations, meaning they attend to both humanitarian and development situations, their funding streams and operational consent are usually tied to either of the segments.
To transcend segments involved boundary work, downplaying the unilateral relief and advocacy work based on the humanitarian principles, to advance greater partnership with the local communities and their participation in, and ownership of, development policies that were also required to be aligned with the government’s national development strategy. This meant that policies and activities nominally had to conform to those of the government, such as infrastructure capacity building, education, health services, vocational and livelihood training and farming activities. When recasting their work in terms of development, less attention was given to issues of human rights, gender-based violence, child protection, legal aid and reproductive health, although most organisations started to address these issues indirectly and as part of less controversial topics.
Throughout, informants held that the transition from humanitarianism to recovery happened too fast, and that neither donors nor implementing agencies were sufficiently prepared for this shift. Their work and strategies were planned for emergency responses and humanitarian funding, not development and rehabilitation. ‘Those organisations that did not alter their practices according to the new rendering of the situation would eventually have to withdraw’, one informant stated, adding that perhaps the most critical aspect was the lack of an exit strategy to ease the transition, to prevent abandoning a lot of incomplete work, and mitigate the impact the sudden transition would have for the beneficiaries. Consequently, against this backdrop and the persistent humanitarian issues still lingering in the area, a number of organisations reoriented their support as development, both as a way to ease the transition, complete ongoing work, and phase out activities in a somewhat more sustainable manner, but also as a way to continue address the persistent humanitarian needs.
This pragmatic stance in transitioning from humanitarianism to development was less controversial to the donor community and the national authorities than to the humanitarian agencies. The donors admittedly struggled to find new partners to receive the funding already allocated to their budget for activities in Uganda. National and local authorities were satisfied, not only because the humanitarian crisis was formally over but also that donors would commit themselves financially to assist in the government’s state-building and recovery activities now planned to take place in the north. The organisations that withdrew or moved into development activities were antagonistic as they did not see the transition being warranted by any substantial improvements of the civilian’s needs—yet they were compelled to relate to the transition, although in different ways.
Amongst those organisations withdrawing according to their humanitarian mandate, this pragmatic ‘third way’ response was seen as somewhat controversial and a hollowing of the humanitarian space and principles, as it connected erstwhile humanitarian actors not only to the politics of aid but also to the government’s state building and recovery programme. In the words of an informant responding to this critique, ‘we are committed to help people in need, not to maintain some abstract principles’. The different responses to the discursively recasted situation remind us not only about the heterogeneity of humanitarianism but also the malleability and its constitutive principles: multiple and diverse organisations operate under the same humanitarian umbrella and lend legitimacy from its morally charged principles and values, regardless whether organisations share the same interpretation and understanding of what these principles mean and entail in practice. The malleability of the humanitarian principles and concepts make for a knowledge battlefield where different actors representing different organisational cultures and mandates vie over humanitarianism’s meaning, interpretation and application in practice. This malleability is to some seen as a way to be pragmatic about humanitarian challenges and principles by enabling more diverse and context sensitive operational action—meaning that the end justifies the mean. Conversely, others see the malleability as undermining the humanitarian principles and the legitimacy they provide for, thus curtailing room to manoeuvre on the basis of humanitarianism.