Emily Davison was a prominent member of the suffragette movement. On June 4, 1913, at the famous Epsom Derby horse race, Davison ran onto the track in front of Anmer, a horse belonging to King George V. Davison, according to some reports holding the purple, white, and green flag of the suffragettes, was hit by Anmer. The horse fell and crushed her, as the photograph included in the photography section shows. Four days later Davison died from her injuries. Five years later women could vote in parliamentary elections. Women didn’t get rights in Britain because of magnanimous grants by some (male) leaders. Gaining rights was a consequence of their organization and empowerment.
The story of women’s liberation isn’t unique or exceptional. Liberty almost always depends on society’s mobilization and ability to hold its own against the state and its elites.
Chapter 1
HOW DOES HISTORY END?
A Coming Anarchy?
In 1989, Francis Fukuyama predicted the “end of history,” with all countries converging to the political and economic institutions of the United States, what he called “an unabashed victory of economic and political liberalism.” Just five years later Robert Kaplan painted a radically different picture of the future in his article “The Coming Anarchy.” To illustrate the nature of this chaotic lawlessness and violence, he felt compelled to begin in West Africa:
West Africa is becoming the symbol of [anarchy] … Disease, overpopulation, unprovoked crime, scarcity of resources, refugee migrations, the increasing erosion of nation-states and international borders, and the empowerment of private armies, security firms, and international drug cartels are now most tellingly demonstrated through a West African prism. West Africa provides an appropriate introduction to the issues, often extremely unpleasant to discuss, that will soon confront our civilization. To remap the political earth the way it will be a few decades hence … I find I must begin with West Africa.
In a 2018 article, “Why Technology Favors Tyranny,” Yuval Noah Harari made yet another prediction about the future, arguing that advances in artificial intelligence are heralding the rise of “digital dictatorships,” where governments will be able to monitor, control, and even dictate the way we interact, communicate, and think.
So history might still end, but in a very different way than Fukuyama had imagined. But how? The triumph of Fukuyama’s vision of democracy, anarchy, or digital dictatorship? The Chinese state’s increasing control over the Internet, the media, and the lives of ordinary Chinese might suggest that we are heading toward digital dictatorship, while the recent history of the Middle East and Africa reminds us that a future of anarchy is not so far-fetched.
But we need a systematic way to think about all of this. As Kaplan suggested, let’s begin in Africa.
The Article 15 State
If you keep going east along the West African coast, the Gulf of Guinea eventually turns south and heads to Central Africa. Sailing past Equatorial Guinea, Gabon, and Pointe-Noire in Congo-Brazzaville, you arrive at the mouth of the river Congo, the entry point to the Democratic Republic of the Congo, a country that is often thought to be the epitome of anarchy. The Congolese have a joke: there have been six constitutions since the country gained its independence from Belgium in 1960, but they all have the same Article 15. The nineteenth-century French prime minister Charles-Maurice Talleyrand said that constitutions should be “short and obscure.” Article 15 fulfills his dictum. It is short and obscure; it says simply Débrouillez-vous (Fend for yourself).
It’s usual to think of a constitution as a document that lays out the responsibilities, duties, and rights of citizens and states. States are supposed to resolve conflicts among their citizens, protect them, and provide key public services such as education, healthcare, and infrastructure that individuals are not able to adequately provide on their own. A constitution isn’t supposed to say Débrouillez-vous.
The reference to “Article 15” is a joke. There isn’t such a clause in the Congolese Constitution. But it’s apt. The Congolese have been fending for themselves at least since independence in 1960 (and things were even worse before). Their state has repeatedly failed to do any of the things it is supposed to do and is absent from vast swaths of the country. Courts, roads, health clinics, and schools are moribund in most of the country. Murder, theft, extortion, and intimidation are commonplace. During the Great War of Africa that raged in the Congo between 1998 and 2003, the lives of most Congolese, already wretched, turned into a veritable hell. Possibly five million people perished; they were murdered, died of disease, or starved to death.
Even during times of peace the Congolese state has failed to uphold the actual clauses of the constitution. Article 16 states:
All persons have the right to life, physical integrity and to the free development of their personality, while respecting the law, public order, the rights of others and public morality.
But much of the Kivu region, in the east of the country, is still controlled by rebel groups and warlords who plunder, harass, and murder civilians while looting the country’s mineral wealth.
What about the real Article 15 in the Congolese Constitution? It begins, “The public authorities are responsible for the elimination of sexual violence …” Yet in 2010 an official of the United Nations described the country as the “rape capital of the world.”
The Congolese are on their own. Débrouillez-vous.
A Journey Through Dominance
This adage is not apposite just for the Congolese. If you retrace the Gulf of Guinea, you arrive at the place that seemed to best sum up Kaplan’s bleak vision of the future, Lagos, the business capital of Nigeria. Kaplan described it as a city “whose crime, pollution, and overcrowding make it the cliché par excellence of Third World urban dysfunction.”
In 1994, as Kaplan wrote, Nigeria was under the control of the military with General Sani Abacha as president. Abacha did not think that his job was to impartially resolve conflicts or protect Nigerians. He focused on killing his opponents and expropriating the country’s natural wealth. Estimates of how much he stole start at around $3.5 billion and go higher.
The previous year the Nobel Prize–winning writer Wole Soyinka returned to Lagos, crossing the land border from Cotonou, the capital of neighboring Benin (which is shown on Map 1). He recalled, “The approach to the Nigeria-Cotonou border told the story at first glance. For miles we cruised past a long line of vehicles parked along the road right up to the border, unable or unwilling to cross.” People who ventured across “returned within an hour of their venture either with damaged vehicles or with depleted pockets, having been forced to pay a toll for getting even as far as the first roadblock.”
Map 1. West Africa: The Historic Asante Kingdom, Yorubaland and Tivland, and Wole Soyinka’s Route from Cotonou to Lagos
Undeterred, Soyinka crossed into Nigeria to find somebody to take him to the capital, only to be told, “Oga Wole, eko o da o” (Master Wole, Lagos is not good). A taxi driver came forward pointing to his bandaged head with his bandaged hand. He proceeded to narrate the reception he had received; a bloodthirsty gang had pursued him even as he drove his car in reverse at full speed.
Oga … Dose rioters break my windshield even as I dey already reversing back. Na God save me self … Eko ti daru [Lagos is in chaos].