WHO in Africa: three ways the continent stands to lose from Trump’s decision to pull out

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Lawrence O. Gostin, University Professor; Founding Linda D. & Timothy J. O’Neill Professor of Global Health Law, Georgetown University

President Donald Trump’s decision to withdraw the US from the World Health Organization (WHO) will be keenly felt across the globe, with profound implications for health in Africa.

In the executive order putting the withdrawal process in place, Trump also paused the transfer of US funds, support and resources to the WHO.

Trump’s executive order is his second attempt to pull the US out of the agency. He has also complained that the US financial contribution to the international organisation is “onerous”.

The biggest impacts will come from the loss of US funding. The US is by far the WHO’s largest state donor, contributing approximately 18% of the agency’s total funding.

The WHO’s funding is split into two tranches.

There are assessed contributions: countries’ membership fees, to which all WHO members agree and over which the WHO has full control. The US accounts for 22%, or US$264 million of these, for the current 2024/25 budget. The US is yet to pay the WHO its assessed contributions for 2024 and 2025. Withdrawing from the organisation without paying these fees would violate US law and must be challenged in the US courts.

Then there are voluntary contributions: donations by member countries, foundations and other sources, usually earmarked to that donor’s priorities. The US contributes 16%, or US$442 million, of all voluntary contributions.

In the case of the US, these priorities include HIV/AIDS, polio eradication and health emergencies.

As experts in global health law, we are deeply concerned about the impacts of this order, which will be far reaching.

The US withdrawal from the WHO threatens core health programmes in Africa. It will weaken the ability of African countries to respond to health emergencies, and could lead to increases in death and illness on the continent.

It will also have broader implications for leadership and governance in global health.

Impact on core programmes

Trump’s decision to withdraw comes at a time when the WHO’s health priorities in Africa were already underfunded. Eight of 12 areas were funded less than 50% earlier this year.

Twenty-seven percent of all US funding through the WHO for the African region goes to polio eradication, 20% supports improved access to quality essential health services, and much of the balance goes to pandemic preparedness and response.

The WHO/US partnership has long supported the HIV/AIDS response in Africa, but the redirection and reduction in funds could reduce the availability of prevention, testing and treatment programmes across the continent. This threatens progress to end AIDS by 2030.

The funding gap will also have an impact on programmes designed to increase access to quality essential health services, including the prevention and treatment of tuberculosis and malaria, and child and maternal health services.

If the WHO is forced to cut back on these services due to a lack of financing, it could lead to increases in mortality and morbidity in Africa.

European countries filled the financing gap in 2020 when Trump last withheld US funding from the WHO. But it is unlikely that they will be able to do so again, as countries across Europe are facing their own geopolitical and financial challenges.

The WHO’s budget was already thinly spread, and its mandate keeps growing.

Through its new investment round, the WHO raised US$1.7 billion in pledges, and is expecting another US$2.1 billion through partnerships and other agreements. Yet even before the US president’s executive order, this left a funding gap of approximately US$3.3 billion (or 47%) for the WHO’s 2025-2028 strategy.

If the gap left by the loss of US funding cannot be filled from other sources, it will fall to African nations to fund health programmes and services that are cut, placing a greater strain on governments reckoning with limited fiscal space.

Weakened response to health emergencies

Trump’s decision comes at a pivotal moment for health in Africa, which is experiencing major outbreaks.

The US has been a key actor supporting WHO-led emergency responses to outbreaks.

Last year, the US partnered with the WHO and Rwanda to rapidly bring a Marburg outbreak under control. The Marburg virus continues to threaten the continent. Tanzania has just confirmed an outbreak.

Earlier in August 2024, the WHO and Africa Centres for Disease Control each declared mpox on the continent to be a public health emergency.

The Biden administration delivered 60,000 vaccines, pledged 1 million more, and contributed over US$22 million to support capacity building and vaccination.

But now US health officials have been instructed to immediately stop working with the WHO, preventing US teams in Africa from responding to Marburg virus and mpox.

Even before these outbreaks, the US supported WHO-led emergency responses to COVID-19, Ebola and HIV/AIDS. The US withdrawal could lead to increased transmission, sickness and death in vulnerable regions.

Similarly, strong partnership between the WHO and the US has helped build health system capacities in Africa for public health emergencies.

US experts have supported nearly half of all WHO joint external evaluation missions to assess countries’ pandemic preparedness and response capacities under the International Health Regulations. This is a binding WHO agreement to help countries prepare for, detect and initially respond to health emergencies globally.

The US withdrawal from the WHO risks eroding these efforts, though it may also accelerate a regionalisation of health security already underway in Africa, led by the African Union through the Africa CDC.

Restructuring of governance

The US was instrumental in establishing the WHO and shaping WHO norms and standards, in particular driving amendments to the International Health Regulations adopted in June 2024. This included improved obligations to facilitate the rapid sharing of information between the WHO and countries.

The US has also been a key figure in ongoing negotiations for a new international treaty, a Pandemic Agreement. This would create new rights and obligations to prevent, prepare for and respond to pandemics with elements that go beyond the International Health Regulations. These include obligations on the equitable sharing of vaccines.

Trump’s executive order would prevent these instruments from being implemented or enforced in the US.

This would only entrench inequitable dynamics when the next global health emergency breaks out, given the concentration of global pharmaceutical companies in the US.

The order also pulls the US out of the Pandemic Agreement negotiations. This will inevitably create new diplomatic dynamics. Optimistically, this could provide enhanced opportunities for African nations to strengthen their position on equity.

The US departure from the WHO will create a leadership vacuum, ushering in a restructuring of power and alliances for global health.

This vacuum could cede influence to US adversaries, opening the door to even greater Chinese influence on the African continent.

But it also presents opportunities for greater African leadership in global health, which could strengthen African self-reliance.

Trump has directed the US to find “credible and transparent” partners to assume the activities the WHO would have performed. And yet there is no substitute for the WHO, with its worldwide reach and stature.

For more than 75 years, the WHO has been, and remains, the only global health organisation with the membership, authority, expertise and credibility to protect and promote health for the world’s population.

For this reason, the African Union, among scores of other bodies and leaders, has already urged Trump to reconsider.

It is now time for the global community to stand up for the WHO and ensure its vital health work in Africa and beyond can thrive.

– WHO in Africa: three ways the continent stands to lose from Trump’s decision to pull out
– https://theconversation.com/who-in-africa-three-ways-the-continent-stands-to-lose-from-trumps-decision-to-pull-out-248237

Peace in Sudan: a fresh mediation effort is needed – how it could work

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Gerrit Kurtz, Peace and Conflict Researcher, German Institute for International and Security Affairs

Intense fighting has ravaged Sudan since 15 April 2023. The war between the Sudanese Armed Forces and its erstwhile comrades-in-arms, the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces, has created one of the worst humanitarian crises in the world. Famine, displacement and mass atrocities are wreaking havoc in the country.

International mediation efforts have been lacklustre and fruitless. The United Nations security council has been preoccupied with other crises and blocked by its own divisions. The African Union has created diplomatic groups, a high-level panel and a presidential committee, none of which has been particularly active. It has been very slow in tackling the political process it wanted to lead.

The US and Saudi Arabia convened several rounds of talks, first in Jeddah, then in Switzerland. The Sudanese Armed Forces delegation failed to turn up in Switzerland. The Rapid Support Forces expressed willingness to talk peace, while simultaneously committing sexual and gender-based violence on a massive scale. The Biden administration only lately slapped sanctions on the top leaders of both forces, Abdelfattah al-Burhan and Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo (also known as Hemedti).

I have studied civil wars, mediation and peacebuilding for more than 12 years, with a focus on Sudan, including regular visits to the country and the region in the past five years. Based on this experience I have identified five reasons why mediation has failed. These are: the resistance of the conflict parties based on the dynamic nature of the war; continued military and financial aid by their external sponsors; as well as mediation attempts that were too narrow, not viewed as impartial, and lacking in coherence.

Clearly, a new approach to mediation is needed, not simply a new mediator. Turkey has recently offered to lead talks between the Sudanese Armed Forces and the United Arab Emirates, the main backer of the Rapid Support Forces, but Egypt, Kenya and several multilateral organisations also keep looking for opportunities.

Any new initiative will have to have certain components if it’s going to succeed:

  • political parameters, ideally set by a parallel civilian political process, of what might come next for Sudan should guide mediators

  • negotiations should take place in secret so that trust can be established

  • back channel communications networks must be established with potential spoilers without ceding undue legitimacy to them

  • a gender- and youth-inclusive approach

  • more effective international coordination

  • consistent pressure on the conflict parties and their external backers.

Why previous mediation efforts failed

Firstly, neither the Sudanese Armed Forces nor the Rapid Support Forces have shown significant willingness to stop hostilities.

The military fortunes of the two sides has waxed and waned. As long as either side feels successful militarily, they are unlikely to commit to sincere negotiations. Outright military victory leading to control of the whole territory (and its borders) remains out of reach for all.

Secondly, their respective allies have not shown any particular interest in peace.

External actors have provided military support to the warring parties, and helped finance them. The UAE is the main sponsor of the Rapid Support Forces. The Sudanese Armed Forces cooperates with Egypt, Eritrea, Iran and Russia, for arms deliveries and training. The UAE promised the US to stop supporting the Rapid Support Forces, but the arms flows continued.

Thirdly, some conflict management efforts were based on a flawed conflict analysis. There were attempts to organise a face-to-face meeting between Hemedti and Burhan, by the Intergovernmental Authority on Development and the African Union. But the war is not primarily a contest of “two generals”. Neither Hemedti nor Burhan has full control of their forces. Nor is a renewed military government acceptable to large parts of Sudan’s vibrant civil society.

Fourth, mediation efforts suffered because some of the parties saw them as lacking impartiality. Sudanese Armed Forces leaders don’t trust Kenya, whose President William Ruto is closely aligned with the UAE and has, until recently, allowed the Rapid Support Forces to conduct meetings and a press conference in Nairobi. Kenya was supposed to lead the Intergovernmental Authority on Development quartet of mediators, which never really got off the ground. Similarly, Sudan remains suspended from the African Union.

Finally, there was a competition of mediation platforms, allowing the warring parties to shop for the most convenient forum for them.

What a path to a ceasefire might look like

International attention is currently focused on Turkish president Recep Erdogan, who has offered to mediate between the Sudanese Armed Forces and the UAE. The Sudanese Armed Forces has harshly criticised the UAE for its support to the Rapid Support Forces. The offer, then, is based on the assumption the UAE might actually cease that support.

Any new approach should differ from previous efforts.

  • Mediators should provide a broad sense of political parameters for a post-war (interim) order, ideally with strong input from Sudan’s civilian groups. Those could include a conditional amnesty as well as assurances of personal safety for the top military leaders and of some stake in a transitional period, without promising any blanket impunity or renewed power-sharing.

But international mediators should grant the warring parties political recognition and legitimacy only in exchange for feasible concessions.

  • Negotiations should take place in secret, allowing confidential exchanges between declared enemies. This is particularly important for the Sudanese Armed Forces given the rivalry among its leadership.

  • Back channel communications should be established to all actors with real constituencies in Sudan, without empowering them unnecessarily. Turkey is well-placed to reach out to senior members of the previous (Bashir) regime who have found exile there. They control large parts of the fighting forces on the side of Sudanese Armed Forces and could prove to be a major spoiler. The armed groups in the so-called “joint forces” would also need to feel somewhat included.

  • Mediators should find ways to include a broad array of civilian actors, in particular women and youth groups. Instead of only targeting “men with guns”, a peace process should be gender-inclusive.

  • Any lead mediator should keep other interested parties such as the EU, the UK, Norway, and the other countries and organisations already mentioned, informed and engaged.

  • Pressure should be kept up by the US, UK and EU on external backers of the two main warring parties, and target both military and financial flows. Policies, including further targeted sanctions, should be as aligned as possible.

Preparing for a window of opportunity

There’s no guarantee that the violence would cease even if these conditions were met. The main belligerents are likely to continue their current offensives. The Sudanese Armed Forces will try to oust the Rapid Support Forces from central Khartoum completely. The Rapid Support Forces will keep trying to take El Fasher, the only capital in Darfur not under their control.

The impending re-capture of Khartoum by the Sudanese Armed Forces may provide an opportunity for a new round of talks, if it comes with consistent international pressure. Mediators should be ready to push for an end to the fighting.

– Peace in Sudan: a fresh mediation effort is needed – how it could work
– https://theconversation.com/peace-in-sudan-a-fresh-mediation-effort-is-needed-how-it-could-work-248330

Cameroon could do with some foreign help to solve anglophone crisis – but the state doesn’t want it

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Julius A. Amin, Professor of History, University of Dayton

What began in late 2016 as a peaceful protest by lawyers and teachers in Cameroon’s North West and South West regions quickly turned violent and developed into what’s become known as Cameroon’s anglophone crisis.

The protest was instigated by perceived marginalisation of Cameroon’s anglophone region, which makes up 20% of the nation’s 29 million people.

The conflict has resulted in immense destruction and casualties. Cameroon’s military responded to the protest with arrests and torture. Voices that called for complete secession of the anglophone regions from the Republic of Cameroon gained momentum.

They created a virtual Ambazonia Republic and an interim government in exile, and vowed to fight back. They formed a military wing, Ambazonia Self-Defence Force, which attacked and disrupted economic and social services in the region.

As of October 2024, over 1.8 million people have needed humanitarian assistance. Over 584,000 have been internally displaced. Over 73,000 have become refugees in next-door Nigeria. Over 6,500 have been killed.


Read more: Cameroon: how language plunged a country into deadly conflict with no end in sight


And the conflict still rages.

One possible avenue that could be pursued to end the impasse is mediation, with help from other countries. But the Cameroonian government has repeatedly rebuffed intervention from organisations such as the African Union, arguing that the conflict is an internal affair.

It also ended a government-sponsored mediation by the Swiss in 2022.

It is clear to me, as a historian who has studied Cameroon foreign policy for the past three decades, that Cameroon’s leadership will not look to external actors to help solve their crisis.

Founding leader Ahmadou Ahidjo, and later his successor Paul Biya, did not respond to external pressure to address issues. Cameroon’s diplomatic relations are based on respect of national sovereignty and nonintervention in each other’s internal affairs.

My research shows that the Cameroonian leadership rejects outside intervention on issues it regards as within its sovereignty and internal affairs.

Removing Cameroon from aid programmes such as the United States Agency for International Development programme and the African Growth and Opportunity Act has not deterred its leaders.

An understanding of this background is crucial in the search for solutions to the ongoing anglophone crisis.


Read more: Cameroon spends 90% of Chinese development loans on its French region: this could deepen the country’s divisions


Use of force

In the 1960s, Ahidjo used brutal force against a nationalist organisation called the Maquisard. His presidency was characterised by murders, imprisonments and torture.

Political rivals were imprisoned or forced to go into exile. Biya, who served in Ahidjo’s government, learned that repressive measures work. As president, he used similar tactics against rivals and the opposition.

But the use of force as a response to the anglophone protest was a miscalculation. The Biya regime failed to see the crisis in its context of changing times, misunderstood the sources of the conflict, and misread the role of social media in protest activities in the 21st century.

The crisis originated from a series of grievances: poverty, unemployment, political and economic neglect of the anglophone region, failure to treat French and English as equal languages in the country, and disrespect and disregard of English-speaking Cameroonians.

At the beginning protesters were generally peaceful, but things changed in 2017. Biya stated that Cameroon was being hijacked by “terrorists masking as secessionists” and vowed to eliminate them.

To anglophone leaders it was a formal declaration of war, and the message spread quickly on social media. The Biya team did little to slow or stop its spread, and anglophones inside and outside the country accepted the message as fact. It mobilised the region. And few took the time to read the full text of his remarks.

The brutality of the war on both sides intensified. Everything had all happened so quickly, and most did not anticipate the intensity of the violence.


Read more: Cameroon after Paul Biya: poverty, uncertainty and a precarious succession battle


Resistance to outside intervention

In its diplomatic relations, Cameroon has a long history of protecting what it sees as its own business.

One example was in 1992, after the US administration criticised Biya for electoral fraud. The Cameroon government fired back. Biya withdrew Cameroon’s ambassador from Washington DC, and informed the US ambassador that America should stay clear of Cameroon’s internal affairs.

In 2008, tension erupted again when Biya changed Cameroon’s constitution to eliminate presidential term limits. The US ambassador criticised the move in the Cameroonian press. Again, Cameroonian officials pushed back, asking the ambassador not to interfere in the nation’s internal politics.

America’s disposition towards the anglophone crisis has been one of non-interference. Other major powers have responded similarly, asking both sides to end the violence.

The Cameroon government has rebuffed initiatives from Switzerland and Canada, both friendly to the country, publicly stating it asked no nation to mediate.

The rejection of the Swiss initiative was surprising, given that Biya spends much time in that country. Unlike the Swiss plan, in which conversations began, the Canadian initiative did not even take off.


Read more: Cameroon’s rebels may not achieve their goal of creating the Ambazonian state – but they’re still a threat to stability


Looking ahead

Measurable indicators show that the Biya regime is failing to end the anglophone crisis. The killings – including those of law enforcement officers – kidnaps, brutality and ransom demands are now normalised in the anglophone region, especially in rural areas.

Biya’s Grand National Dialogue and National Commission for the Promotion of Bilingualism and Multiculturalism have failed to address the sources of the crisis. Locals dismiss them as a joke.

People are exasperated by public service announcements about what the government has achieved. Their condition remains much worse than it was in the pre-crisis period.

Ordinary people are focused on bread-and-butter issues and the desire for dignity and respect. But they don’t see it.

Young Cameroonians need to see both anglophone and francophone residents at every level of government, on every rung of the business ladder, in every management position, at every school — even on every billboard advertisement.

Only such a widespread and visible approach can convincingly challenge Cameroon’s pattern of discrimination and exclusion.

The Biya regime must commit to doing that and not be distracted by supporters urging him to be a candidate in the upcoming presidential election.

It is important to track and bring to justice the apparent sponsors of the killings in the country. This must be done while government keeps its promises to make things right for those living in the anglophone regions.

Finally, given China’s investment in Cameroon, it can do more to engage the Biya regime on the anglophone crisis. Like Cameroon, China’s policy also stipulates a policy of nonintervention, but it has repeatedly changed course when its strategic interests are threatened.

Major power status demands major responsibilities, and showing the will to stop chronic human rights violations remains an important obligation.

– Cameroon could do with some foreign help to solve anglophone crisis – but the state doesn’t want it
– https://theconversation.com/cameroon-could-do-with-some-foreign-help-to-solve-anglophone-crisis-but-the-state-doesnt-want-it-244770

Rereading Rembrandt: how the slave trade helped establish the golden age of Dutch painting

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Caroline Fowler, Starr Director of the Research and Academic Program, Clark Art Institute, and lecturer in Art History, Williams College

The so-called golden age of Dutch painting in the 1600s coincided with an economic boom that had a lot to do with the transatlantic slave trade. But how did the slave trade shape the art market in the Netherlands? And how is it reflected in the paintings of the time?

This is the subject of a new book called Slavery and the Invention of Dutch Art by art historian Caroline Fowler. We asked about her study.

What was Dutch art about before slavery and what was the golden age?

The earliest paintings that would be called Dutch were predominantly religious. They were made for Christian devotion. In the 1500s, major divisions in the church led to a fragmentation of Christianity called the Reformation.

In this new religious climate, artists began to create new types of paintings, studying the world around them. They included landscapes, seascapes, still lifes, and interior scenes of their homes. Instead of working for the church, many painters began to work within an art market. There was a rising middle class that could afford to buy paintings.

Duke University Press

Historically, this period in Dutch economic prosperity has been called the “golden age”. This is when many of the most famous Dutch painters worked, such as Rembrandt van Rijn and Johannes Vermeer.

Their work was made possible by a strong Dutch economy built on global trade networks. This included the transatlantic slave trade and the rise of the middle class. Although artists did not directly paint the transatlantic slave trade, in my book I argue that it is central to understanding the paintings produced in the 1600s as it made the economic market possible.

In turn, many of the types of painting that developed, like maritime scenes and interior scenes, are often obliquely or directly about international trade. The slave trade is a haunting presence in these images.

How did this play out within Dutch colonialism?

The new “middle class” consisted of economically prosperous merchants, artisans, lawyers and doctors. For many of the wealthiest merchants, their prosperity was fuelled by their investments in trade overseas. In land and plantations, and also commodities such as sugar, salt, mace and nutmeg.


Read more: Slavery, tax evasion, resistance: the story of 11 Africans in South America’s gold mines in the 1500s


Slavery was illegal within the boundaries of the Dutch Republic on the European continent. But it was widely practised within Dutch colonies around the world. Slavery was central to their trade overseas – from the inter-Asian slave network that made possible their domination in the export of nutmeg, to the use of enslaved labour on plantations in the Americas. It also contributed in less visible ways to Dutch economic prosperity, like the development of maritime insurance.

What was the relationship between artists and Dutch colonies?

In the new school of painting, artists would sometimes travel to the Dutch colonies. For example, Frans Post travelled to Dutch Brazil and painted the sugar plantations and mills. Another artist named Maria Sibylla Merian went to Dutch Suriname, where she studied butterflies and plants on the Dutch sugar plantations.

Both depict landscapes and the natural world but don’t directly engage with the profound dehumanisation of slavery, and an economic system dependent on enslaved labour. But this doesn’t mean that it’s absent in their sanitised renditions.

Among the sources that I used to think about the presence of the transatlantic slave trade in a culture that did not overtly depict it were inventories of paintings and early museum collections. Often the language in these sources differed from the painting in important ways. They demonstrate how the violence of the system emerges in unexpected places.

One inventory that describes paintings by Frans Post, for example, also narrates the physical punishment meted out if the enslaved tried to run away from the Dutch sugar plantations. This isn’t depicted in the painting, but it is part of the inventory that travelled beside the painting.

These moments reveal the profound presence of this system within Dutch painting, and point to the ways in which artists negotiated making this structure invisible in their paintings although they were not able to completely erase its presence.

How do you discuss Rembrandt’s paintings in your book?

Historically, studies of the transatlantic slave trade in early modern painting (about 1400-1700) have looked at paintings that directly depict either enslaved or Black individuals.

One of the points of this book is that this limits our understanding of the transatlantic slave trade in Dutch painting. A focus on blackness, for example, precludes understanding how whiteness is constructed at the same time. It fails to recognise the ways in which artists sought to diminish the presence of the slave trade in their sanitised rendition of Dutch society.

Syndics of the Draper’s Guild by Rembrandt. Txllxt TxllxT/Wikimedia Commons/Rijksmuseum

One painting that I use to think about this is Rembrandt van Rijn’s very famous work called Syndics of the Draper’s Guild. It’s a group portrait of wealthy, white merchants gathered around a table looking at a book of fabric samples.

Although there aren’t enslaved or black individuals depicted, this painting would be impossible without the transatlantic slave trade. Cloth from the Netherlands was often exchanged for enslaved people in west Africa, for example.

In my book, I draw attention to these understudied histories to understand how certain assumptions around whiteness, privilege, and wealth developed in tandem with an emerging visual vocabulary around blackness and the transformation of individual lives into chattel property.

What do you hope readers will take away from the book?

I hope that readers will think about how many of our ideas about freedom, the middle class, art markets, and economic prosperity began in the 17th-century Dutch Republic. As this book demonstrates, a central part of this narrative that has been overlooked was the transatlantic slave trade in building this fantasy.

This is in many ways an invention that traces back to the paintings of overt consumption and wealth produced in the Dutch Republic – like Vermeer’s interiors of Dutch homes.


Read more: How we proved a Rembrandt painting owned by the University of Pretoria was a fake


My aim with this book is to present not only a more complex view of Dutch painting but also a reconsideration of certain dogmas today around prosperity and the art market. The rise of our current financial system, art markets and visible celebration of landscapes, seascapes and interior scenes are all inseparable from the transformation of individual lives into property. We live with this legacy today in our systems built on racial, economic and gendered inequalities.

– Rereading Rembrandt: how the slave trade helped establish the golden age of Dutch painting
– https://theconversation.com/rereading-rembrandt-how-the-slave-trade-helped-establish-the-golden-age-of-dutch-painting-247918

A hot and troubled world of work: how South Africa’s bold new climate act and labour law can align to drive a just transition

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Debbie Collier, Professor of Law and Director of the Centre for Transformative Regulation of Work, University of the Western Cape

Increased average temperatures, climate variability, and extreme weather events are taking a toll on the environment and disproportionately affecting the lives and livelihoods of vulnerable communities. This is intensifying challenges in the world of work.

Working on a warmer planet increases health and safety risks and affects workers’ well-being and productivity. These risks are a challenge for employment, labour standards, and the creation of decent work.

Temperatures in South Africa are rising faster than the global average. And finding ways to adapt to climate change and navigate its challenges is becoming increasingly urgent. These challenges are compounded by the disruptions of an energy transition. South Africa also has high levels of inequality and unemployment.

South Africa, one of the largest (CO₂) emitters in Africa, has committed to reducing its emissions with the aim of reaching net zero emissions by 2050. But how does the country balance the need to cut carbon emissions while protecting an already vulnerable working population during the energy transition?

Enabling a just transition is a focus for the constituencies of the National Economic Development and Labour Council. The council is South Africa’s national social dialogue institution. It consists of representatives from the state, organised labour, organised business, and community organisations. The council’s Labour Market Chamber has been working on how best to integrate principles of labour and environmental justice. And how labour laws can be used to support a just energy transition.

The University of the Western Cape’s Centre for Transformative Regulation of Work, of which I am the director, has supported the council and its social partners in labour law reform processes. The aim is to ensure that labour laws and policy are responsive to the changing world of work, and are “fit for purpose” in the just transition era.

Two priorities are to implement the Climate Change Act as envisaged. And to use and develop labour law to support a just transition.

The Climate Change Act

The Climate Change Act 22 of 2024 incorporates the goal of decent work within a commitment to a just transition. The act, which will take effect on a date yet to be determined, defines a just transition as

a shift towards a low-carbon, climate-resilient economy and society and ecologically sustainable economies and societies which contribute toward the creation of decent work for all, social inclusion, and the eradication of poverty.

The act is ambitious in its scope and leaves no part of society untouched. It aims to restructure the economy from one dependent on fossil fuels to a low carbon economy, at the same time contributing to decent work and an inclusive society.

New institutional arrangements are envisaged and existing institutions are expected to adapt. Relevant state actors must “review and if necessary revise, amend, coordinate and harmonise their policies, laws, measures, programmes and decisions” to “give effect to the principles and objects” of the act.

The act provides impetus for change and an opportunity to revisit the country’s labour law and industrial relations landscape.

Labour law in a just transition era

South Africa’s labour law promotes both collective bargaining and employee consultation processes — the “dual channels” for engagement. However, industrial relations are typically characterised by adversarial bargaining over wages and economic distribution. This approach falls short of the nuanced and collaborative processes needed to navigate a just transition. The first step requires a shift from familiar, adversarial patterns of engagement.

The energy transition and adaptation to climate change may have significant implications for job security and employment. These include

  • the adoption of new technologies, resulting in workplace restructuring

  • changes in the organisation of work or work methods

  • the discontinuation of operations, either wholly or in part.

The framework for constructive engagement on such developments includes institutions and mechanisms at workplace, sector and national levels. At the workplace, workplace forums were intended for this purpose.

Workplace forums are voluntary institutions introduced in the Labour Relations Act 66 of 1994 to ensure that workers are consulted and have a voice in decisions that affect them. Unfortunately, the uptake of workplace forums has been limited.

Industry and sector institutions include bargaining councils and the Sector Education and Training Authorities. These should be developed into spaces for consultation on measures to support a just transition and coordination of skills development and industrial policy.

Nationally, Nedlac is the apex social dialogue institution. There’s also the Presidential Climate Commission which was established by President Cyril Ramaphosa to oversee and facilitate a just transition. The commission is regulated by the Climate Change Act. It plays a critical role in steering just transition policy processes and building consensus on regulatory developments.

What are the gaps?

Labour law has limited scope to address environmental degradation or the concerns of communities. To plug this gap, programmes that integrate rights, policies and services for workers and communities affected by the energy transition should be considered. For example the framework for Social and Labour Plans in the mining sector could be augmented to support a just transition.

Labour law functions and mechanisms that support a just transition may need to be strengthened. Key areas for improvement include:

  • the framework and ecosystem for skills development to prepare workers for job transitions

  • occupational health and safety and labour standards for the protection of workers in conditions of increased heat and extreme weather events

  • the scope, application and objectives of social security schemes and social protection for workers affected by the transition to a low-carbon economy.

Other steps towards a just transition include:

Environmentally sustainable practices must be a priority in all workplaces. Consultation and coordinated responses should not be limited to workplaces, sectors and industries that are directly affected, such as the coal mining sector.

Adaptation to climate change should be at the forefront of the collective efforts of all South Africans. Perhaps even more so in higher education institutions, where the responsibility to educate, innovate, and lead by example is paramount.

South Africa’s climate change law envisages a pathway to social inclusion and decent work. Its labour laws provide critical tools for the transition.

Debbie Collier, Shane Godfrey, Vincent Oniga and Abigail Osiki co-authored the Nedlac report, Optimising labour law for a just transition (2024).

– A hot and troubled world of work: how South Africa’s bold new climate act and labour law can align to drive a just transition
– https://theconversation.com/a-hot-and-troubled-world-of-work-how-south-africas-bold-new-climate-act-and-labour-law-can-align-to-drive-a-just-transition-243406

DRC has created a reserve force to fight the M23 – why this may backfire

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Judith Verweijen, Assistant professor, Utrecht University

After nearly three decades of warfare, armed conflict in the eastern Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) seems only to intensify. The Rwanda-backed M23 rebellion has been at the centre of attention in recent years. However, eastern DRC is home to more than 100 other armed groups, which are a major source of instability too. The question of their demobilisation has haunted the country ever since the end of the Second Congo War in 2003.

A new chapter in this long-standing conundrum seems to have started. In 2022, the government decided to form an alliance with armed groups to fight their common enemy, the M23 and its Rwandan backers. At around the same time, it launched an initiative to create an army reserve, known as the Reserve armée de la défense (RAD). This formalised the Congolese army’s established practice of using armed groups as auxiliaries.

The creation of the reserve army allows the government to reward armed group allies with integration while bringing them under institutionalised control. But will this actually work?

Our past and ongoing research on army integration and demobilisation in eastern DRC casts doubt on the plan, for three reasons.

The first risk is that armed groups will boost their numbers to gain a stronger bargaining position once integration does occur.

Secondly, reservist forces may compete with the army over territorial control and limited resources and turn against those who created them.

Finally, merely absorbing armed groups into a reserve force does little to address the long-standing grievances that underlie conflict in the east.

The Wazalendo: eastern DRC’s predatory patriots

On 9 May 2022, in a secretive meeting in the town of Pinga in North Kivu, the Congolese armed forces and several Congolese armed groups agreed to cease hostilities against each other and instead form an alliance to fight their common enemy, the M23.

As a result, these groups became quasi-official and increasingly presented themselves as defenders of Congo’s territorial integrity. They started to call themselves Wazalendo or patriots in Kiswahili. Fuelled by President Félix Tshisekedi’s supportive rhetoric, the Wazalendo became symbols of Congolese resistance against foreign aggression. This benefited the president’s 2023 electoral campaign.

Across North and South Kivu provinces, armed groups have rebranded themselves Wazalendo, even when not part of the coalition fighting the M23.

As the Congolese army’s attention is on the M23, these armed groups have benefited from the lull in operations against them. Most Wazalendo groups are allowed to roam around freely and have dramatically expanded their zones of influence and violent systems of revenue generation.

This includes taxation at markets and rapidly proliferating roadblocks, but also ransom kidnappings and contract killings. There is also evidence that Wazalendo groups are engaged in torture, sexual violence and arbitrary arrests, and frequently recruit child soldiers.

Chequered history of integration

A few months after the Pinga meeting, Congo’s government launched a new national defence policy that mentioned the establishment of the reserve army. Though it was passed unanimously in parliament in April 2023, MPs voiced concerns that the new army reserve risked repeating mistakes of the past.

The army is itself the product of the painstaking integration of former belligerents after the Second Congo War (1998-2003). But rebel-military integration became an open-ended process. Armed group officers alternately integrated into and deserted from the army in the hope of gaining higher ranks and positions in a next round of integration.

Unending rebel integration also weakened the national army. It reinforced parallel command chains, facilitated intelligence leaks and created a lopsided hierarchy.

The first iteration of the M23 rebellion in 2012 was the result of rebel integration gone wrong. In its aftermath, the Congolese government banned the wholesale negotiated integration of armed groups into the army.

Hurdles to integration

The reserve army risks unleashing the same dynamics of rewarding rebellion by doling out positions to armed group leaders and granting them impunity for past violence. In April 2024, the leaders of many Wazalendo groups were flown to Kinshasa where the army reserve leadership told them to start preparing lists of their combatants ahead of their integration.

This has prompted numerous armed groups to step up recruitment.

The prospect of integration has also triggered fierce competition for positions between Wazalendo commanders. This risks worsening animosities between groups.

Other hurdles, some of which have been faced before, include:

Unity of command. Forcing smaller armed groups into a hierarchical mould doesn’t always work. Most have deep local roots, with their recruitment and influence limited to a relatively small area. Used to calling the shots in their home areas, these commanders tend to be reluctant to take orders from higher-placed outsiders.

Ethnic competition. Armed groups may resist full integration if they feel their rank and positions in the reserve army will be lower and that this will hamper their ability to protect members of their ethnic community. Such “local security dilemmas” have obstructed army integration and demobilisation efforts in the past.

Resources. Armed groups currently enjoy substantial income, and considerable freedom in obtaining it. Will the reserve army command allow its members to engage in illegal taxation, kidnapping for ransom, robbery and ambushes? If not, how will it compensate for their lost opportunities? In addition, the reserve army is likely to compete with the army over revenue-generating opportunities. And some of its members may leak intelligence to fellow armed groups.

Painkiller or cure?

The army reserve may be read as the latest attempt at solving the decades-old problem of getting rid of the many armed groups in eastern DRC, this time by bringing them into the fold of the state yet not into the army.

However, this solution does risk unleashing many of the same detrimental dynamics as army integration. It may fuel armed mobilisation and militarisation rather than contain it.

Wazalendo groups are currently in a comfortable position and there are no repercussions for not integrating the reserve force. To contain them, both the DRC’s army and the military justice system would need to be professionalised.

Even if the reserve army did not have negative ripple effects, it would be an unlikely cure for armed mobilisation. That requires comprehensive, bottom-up peace efforts that tackle deep-seated grievances related to past violence and conflict over belonging, territory and local authority. Barring such efforts, the reserve force will remain a painkiller at best.

– DRC has created a reserve force to fight the M23 – why this may backfire
– https://theconversation.com/drc-has-created-a-reserve-force-to-fight-the-m23-why-this-may-backfire-247476

DRC creates a reserve force to fight the M23 – why this may backfire

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Judith Verweijen, Assistant professor, Utrecht University

After nearly three decades of warfare, armed conflict in the eastern Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) seems only to intensify. The Rwanda-backed M23 rebellion has been at the centre of attention in recent years. However, eastern DRC is home to more than 100 other armed groups, which are a major source of instability too. The question of their demobilisation has haunted the country ever since the end of the Second Congo War in 2003.

A new chapter in this long-standing conundrum seems to have started. In 2022, the government decided to form an alliance with armed groups to fight their common enemy, the M23 and its Rwandan backers. At around the same time, it launched an initiative to create an army reserve, known as the Reserve armée de la défense (RAD). This formalised the Congolese army’s established practice of using armed groups as auxiliaries.

The creation of the reserve army allows the government to reward armed group allies with integration while bringing them under institutionalised control. But will this actually work?

Our past and ongoing research on army integration and demobilisation in eastern DRC casts doubt on the plan, for three reasons.

The first risk is that armed groups will boost their numbers to gain a stronger bargaining position once integration does occur.

Secondly, reservist forces may compete with the army over territorial control and limited resources and turn against those who created them.

Finally, merely absorbing armed groups into a reserve force does little to address the long-standing grievances that underlie conflict in the east.

The Wazalendo: eastern DRC’s predatory patriots

On 9 May 2022, in a secretive meeting in the town of Pinga in North Kivu, the Congolese armed forces and several Congolese armed groups agreed to cease hostilities against each other and instead form an alliance to fight their common enemy, the M23.

As a result, these groups became quasi-official and increasingly presented themselves as defenders of Congo’s territorial integrity. They started to call themselves Wazalendo or patriots in Kiswahili. Fuelled by President Félix Tshisekedi’s supportive rhetoric, the Wazalendo became symbols of Congolese resistance against foreign aggression. This benefited the president’s 2023 electoral campaign.

Across North and South Kivu provinces, armed groups have rebranded themselves Wazalendo, even when not part of the coalition fighting the M23.

As the Congolese army’s attention is on the M23, these armed groups have benefited from the lull in operations against them. Most Wazalendo groups are allowed to roam around freely and have dramatically expanded their zones of influence and violent systems of revenue generation.

This includes taxation at markets and rapidly proliferating roadblocks, but also ransom kidnappings and contract killings. There is also evidence that Wazalendo groups are engaged in torture, sexual violence and arbitrary arrests, and frequently recruit child soldiers.

Chequered history of integration

A few months after the Pinga meeting, Congo’s government launched a new national defence policy that mentioned the establishment of the reserve army. Though it was passed unanimously in parliament in April 2023, MPs voiced concerns that the new army reserve risked repeating mistakes of the past.

The army is itself the product of the painstaking integration of former belligerents after the Second Congo War (1998-2003). But rebel-military integration became an open-ended process. Armed group officers alternately integrated into and deserted from the army in the hope of gaining higher ranks and positions in a next round of integration.

Unending rebel integration also weakened the national army. It reinforced parallel command chains, facilitated intelligence leaks and created a lopsided hierarchy.

The first iteration of the M23 rebellion in 2012 was the result of rebel integration gone wrong. In its aftermath, the Congolese government banned the wholesale negotiated integration of armed groups into the army.

Hurdles to integration

The reserve army risks unleashing the same dynamics of rewarding rebellion by doling out positions to armed group leaders and granting them impunity for past violence. In April 2024, the leaders of many Wazalendo groups were flown to Kinshasa where the army reserve leadership told them to start preparing lists of their combatants ahead of their integration.

This has prompted numerous armed groups to step up recruitment.

The prospect of integration has also triggered fierce competition for positions between Wazalendo commanders. This risks worsening animosities between groups.

Other hurdles, some of which have been faced before, include:

Unity of command. Forcing smaller armed groups into a hierarchical mould doesn’t always work. Most have deep local roots, with their recruitment and influence limited to a relatively small area. Used to calling the shots in their home areas, these commanders tend to be reluctant to take orders from higher-placed outsiders.

Ethnic competition. Armed groups may resist full integration if they feel their rank and positions in the reserve army will be lower and that this will hamper their ability to protect members of their ethnic community. Such “local security dilemmas” have obstructed army integration and demobilisation efforts in the past.

Resources. Armed groups currently enjoy substantial income, and considerable freedom in obtaining it. Will the reserve army command allow its members to engage in illegal taxation, kidnapping for ransom, robbery and ambushes? If not, how will it compensate for their lost opportunities? In addition, the reserve army is likely to compete with the army over revenue-generating opportunities. And some of its members may leak intelligence to fellow armed groups.

Painkiller or cure?

The army reserve may be read as the latest attempt at solving the decades-old problem of getting rid of the many armed groups in eastern DRC, this time by bringing them into the fold of the state yet not into the army.

However, this solution does risk unleashing many of the same detrimental dynamics as army integration. It may fuel armed mobilisation and militarisation rather than contain it.

Wazalendo groups are currently in a comfortable position and there are no repercussions for not integrating the reserve force. To contain them, both the DRC’s army and the military justice system would need to be professionalised.

Even if the reserve army did not have negative ripple effects, it would be an unlikely cure for armed mobilisation. That requires comprehensive, bottom-up peace efforts that tackle deep-seated grievances related to past violence and conflict over belonging, territory and local authority. Barring such efforts, the reserve force will remain a painkiller at best.

– DRC creates a reserve force to fight the M23 – why this may backfire
– https://theconversation.com/drc-creates-a-reserve-force-to-fight-the-m23-why-this-may-backfire-247476

South African telescope discovers a giant galaxy that’s 32 times bigger than Earth’s

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Jacinta Delhaize, Lecturer, University of Cape Town

You may not know it, but right now there’s a huge cosmic rave party happening far, far above our heads. The chief party goers are known as supermassive black holes. These mysterious objects can have masses several million or billion times that of the Sun and are so dense that they warp space time around them.

As far as astronomers know, all galaxies harbour a supermassive black hole at their very centres. In some galaxies, large amounts of interstellar gas are spiralling around the supermassive black hole and getting pulled in beyond the event horizon and essentially on to the black hole. This process creates a huge amount of friction and energy, which can cause the “rave” I’m talking about – releasing huge amounts of light at many different colours and frequencies across the electromagnetic spectrum.

In some cases, the black hole will even spew jets of plasma, millions of light-years across intergalactic space. The plasma gas is so hot that it’s essentially a soup of electrons moving close to the speed of light. These plasma jets glow at radio frequencies, so they can be seen with a radio telescope and are, aptly, named radio galaxies. In a recent episode of the astronomy podcast The Cosmic Savannah, I likened their appearance to two glow sticks (the plasma jets) poking out of a ball of sticky tack (the galaxy). Astronomers hypothesise that the plasma jets keep expanding outwards as time passes, eventually growing so large that they become giant radio galaxies.

Millions of normally sized radio galaxies are known to science. But by 2020 only about 800 giant radio galaxies had been found, nearly 50 years since they had been initially discovered. They were considered rare. However, a new generation of radio telescopes, including South Africa’s MeerKAT, have turned this idea on its head: in the past five years about 11,000 giants have been discovered.

MeerKAT’s newest giant radio galaxy find is extraordinary. The plasma jets of this cosmic giant span 3.3 million light-years from end to end – over 32 times the size of the Milky Way. I’m one of the lead researchers who made the discovery. We’ve nicknamed it Inkathazo, meaning “trouble” in South Africa’s isiXhosa and isiZulu languages. That’s because it’s been a bit troublesome to understand the physics behind what’s going on with Inkathazo.

This discovery has given us a unique opportunity to study giant radio galaxies. The findings challenge existing models and suggest that we don’t yet understand much of the complicated plasma physics at play in these extreme galaxies.

Here comes ‘trouble’

The MeerKAT telescope is located in the Karoo region of South Africa, is made up of 64 radio dishes and is operated and managed by the South African Radio Astronomy Observatory. It’s a precursor to the Square Kilometre Array, which will, when it commences science operations around 2028, be the world’s largest telescope.

MeerKAT has already been pivotal in uncovering some of the hidden treasures of the southern sky since it was first commissioned in 2018.

This is the third giant radio galaxy that my collaborators and I have discovered with MeerKAT in a relatively small patch of sky near the equator, around the size of five full moons, that astronomers refer to as the “COSMOS field”. We pointed MeerKAT at COSMOS during the early stages of the most advanced surveys of distant galaxies ever conducted: the International Gigahertz Tiered Extragalactic Exploration (MIGHTEE).


Read more: Discovery of two new giant radio galaxies offers fresh insights into the universe


The MIGHTEE team, a collaboration of astronomers from around the world, and I first published the discovery of the two other giant radio galaxies in COSMOS in 2021.

We spotted Inkathazo more recently in my own MeerKAT follow-up observations of COSMOS, as well as in the full MIGHTEE survey.

However, Inkathazo differs from its cosmic companions in several ways. It doesn’t have the same characteristics as many other giant radio galaxies. For example, the plasma jets have an unusual shape. Rather than extending straight across from end-to-end, one of the jets is bent.

Additionally, Inkathazo lives at the very centre of a cluster of galaxies, rather than in relative isolation, which should make it difficult for the plasma jets to grow to such enormous sizes. Its location in a cluster raises questions about the role of environmental interactions in the formation and evolution of these giant galaxies.

A spectral age map of ‘Inkathazo’. Cyan and green show younger plasma, while purple indicates older plasma. K.K.L Charlton (UCT), MeerKAT, HSC, CARTA, IDIA., CC BY

MeerKAT’s exceptional capabilities are helping us to unravel this cosmic conundrum. We’ve created some of the highest-resolution spectral maps ever made for giant radio galaxies. These maps track the age of the plasma across different parts of the galaxy, providing clues about the physical processes at work.

The results revealed intriguing complexities in Inkathazo’s jets. Some electrons within the plasma jets receive unexpected boosts of energy. We think this may occur when the jets collide with hot gas in the voids between galaxies in a cluster. This gives us hints about what sort of plasma physics might be happening in these extreme parts of the Universe that we didn’t previously predict.

A treasure trove

The fact that we unveiled three giant radio galaxies by pointing MeerKAT at a single patch of sky suggests that there’s likely a huge treasure trove of these cosmic behemoths just waiting to be discovered in the southern sky. The telescope is incredibly powerful and it’s in a perfect location for this kind of research, so it’s ideally poised to uncover and learn more about giant radio galaxies in the years to come.

Kathleen Charlton, a Master’s student at the University of Cape Town, was the lead author of the research on which this article was based.

– South African telescope discovers a giant galaxy that’s 32 times bigger than Earth’s
– https://theconversation.com/south-african-telescope-discovers-a-giant-galaxy-thats-32-times-bigger-than-earths-248023

What France loses by closing its military bases in Africa

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Thierry Vircoulon, Coordinateur de l’Observatoire pour l’Afrique centrale et australe de l’Institut Français des Relations Internationales, membre du Groupe de Recherche sur l’Eugénisme et le Racisme, Université Paris Cité

Senegalese president Bassirou Diomaye Faye announced on 31 December 2024 that all foreign military bases in his country would close by 2025. On the same day, the Ivorian president said France would hand over control of the Abidjan military base to his country’s army.

These announcements followed the planned withdrawal of French forces from Chad, Burkina Faso, Mali and Niger. Researcher Thierry Vircoulon discusses the potential implications of these decisions for France.

What advantages could France lose by withdrawing its troops from African countries?

France’s military presence in French-speaking Africa has evolved in strategic importance over the past 65 years. Over time, the significance of this presence has diminished. By the end of the 20th century, some French military bases had been closed and the number of pre-positioned troops had reduced from 20,000 in 1970 to 6,000 in 2022.

Military bases have been a strategic asset for France, initially securing newly independent and fragile regimes in the aftermath of independence. They also played a key role in conducting external operations. These bases served as logistical hubs that enabled French military interventions and the evacuation of French nationals during crises.

For instance, Operation Sagittarius, which evacuated European nationals from Sudan at the start of the war in April 2023, relied on the resources of the French base in Djibouti.

Without these logistical points, projecting military strength becomes much more challenging and, in some cases, impossible. The closure of these military bases implies the end of major French military interventions, such as Operation Licorne (2002-2015) or Barkhane (2014-2022).

In recent years, the cost-benefit analysis of these bases has been questioned in Paris. They have become a political and strategic issue. On one hand, these bases symbolise the old post-independence security pact between Paris and the leaders of some countries, making them appear as a legacy of neocolonialism.

On the other hand, from a strategic point of view, having a pre-positioned military presence in Africa serves little purpose when the main threats to France come from elsewhere (for instance, eastern Europe and the Middle East). As a result, the strategic value of France’s military bases in Africa has diminished in recent years.

What impact could military withdrawal have on France’s political and diplomatic influence in its former African colonies?

The closure of the bases would signal the end of France’s capacity to intervene – whether justified or not – in certain conflicts across Africa.

This would weaken its influence in the region, particularly as conflicts intensify across the continent, with more and more African countries seeking security providers. Addressing, stabilising or resolving these conflicts requires a combination of diplomacy and military intervention.

It’s important to distinguish between countries that have chosen to sever military cooperation agreements with Paris (such as Chad and Senegal) and those that have simply closed military bases but maintained the military cooperation (like Ivory Coast).

The announcement of base closures by African leaders, rather than by Paris, symbolises a rejection of French policy. This marks a significant loss of influence for France in the countries involved.

Could this withdrawal reduce France’s influence in managing security crises in Africa?

As part of the informal division of security responsibilities among western nations, France has long been considered the “gendarme of Africa”.

Between 1964 and 2014, France conducted no fewer than 52 military operations across the continent. At the start of the 21st century, it played the role of lead nation in European military interventions in Africa. Other western powers recognised France’s expertise in managing African crises. In most cases, they either supported or simply followed its policies.

This was reflected in France’s diplomatic responsibilities within the European Union and at the United Nations. French diplomacy is well represented in the Africa division of the European External Action Service. The French delegation is tasked with drafting UN security council resolutions on Africa. The peacekeeping department at the UN is led by a French diplomat.

People protest against the presence of French soldiers in Mali, and more broadly in west Africa, as part of Operation Barkhane in Toulouse in 2021. Alain Pitton/NurPhoto via Getty Images

The end of France’s military interventionism will have diplomatic repercussions beyond Africa. They are already being felt in Brussels, Washington and New York.

In Niger, the United States did not follow France’s hard line stance after the coup that ousted President Mohamed Bazoum in 2023. Instead it attempted to engage with the junta. This effort ultimately failed.

In Chad, while Paris was complacent towards the dynastic succession from Idriss Déby to his son, Berlin took a critical stance. This led to a diplomatic crisis and the expulsion of ambassadors from Chad and Germany in 2023. In Italy, prime minister Giorgia Meloni publicly criticised French policy in Africa, causing tensions between Paris and Rome.

How will the reduction in military presence affect France’s ability to protect its economic interests, particularly in the mining and energy sectors?

In 2023, Africa accounted for only 1.9% of France’s foreign trade, 15% of its supply of strategic minerals, and 11.6% of its oil and gas supply.

France’s top two trading partners in sub-Saharan Africa are Nigeria and South Africa – former British colonies which have never hosted a French military base.

Since the beginning of the century, relations between France and African countries have been marked by a clear separation between economic and military interests. France not only has diminishing economic interests in Africa, but these are concentrated in countries that do not host French military bases.

– What France loses by closing its military bases in Africa
– https://theconversation.com/what-france-loses-by-closing-its-military-bases-in-africa-247898

Urban food gardens produce more than vegetables, they create bonds for young Capetonians – study

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Tinashe P. Kanosvamhira, Post-doctoral researcher, African Centre for Cities, University of Cape Town

Urban agriculture takes many forms, among them community, school or rooftop gardens, commercial urban farms, and hydroponic or aquaponic systems. These activities have been shown to promote sustainable cities in a number of ways. They enhance local food security and foster economic opportunities through small-scale farming initiatives. They also strengthen social cohesion by creating shared spaces for collaboration and learning.

However, evidence from some African countries (and other parts of the world) shows that very few young people are getting involved in agriculture, whether in urban, peri-urban or rural areas. Studies from Kenya, Tanzania, Ethiopia and Nigeria show that people aged between 15 and 34 have very little interest in agriculture, whether as an educational pathway or career. They perceive farming as physically demanding, low-paying and lacking in prestige. Systemic barriers like limited access to land, capital and skills also hold young people back.

South Africa has a higher rate of young people engaging in farming (24%) than elsewhere in sub-Saharan Africa. However, this number could be higher if young people better understood the benefits of a career in farming and if they had more support.

In a recent study I explored youth-driven urban agriculture in Khayelitsha, a large urban area outside Cape Town whose residents are mostly Black, low-income earners.

The young urban farmers I interviewed are using community gardens to grow more than vegetables. They’re also nurturing social connections, creating economic and business opportunities, and promoting environmental conservation. My findings highlight the transformative potential of youth-driven urban agriculture and how it can be a multifaceted response to urban challenges. It’s crucial that policy makers recognise the value of youth-led urban agriculture and support those doing the work.

The research

Khayelitsha is vibrant and bustling. But its approximately 400,000 residents have limited resources and often struggle to make a living.

I interviewed members of two youth-led gardens. One has just two members; the other has six. All my interviewees were aged between 22 and 27. The relatively low number of interviewees is typical of qualitative research, where the emphasis is placed on depth rather than breadth. This approach allows researchers to obtain detailed, context-rich data from a small, focused group of participants.

The first garden was founded in January 2020, just a few months before the pandemic struck. The founders wanted to tackle unemployment and food insecurity in their community. They hoped to create jobs for themselves and others, and to provide nutritional support, particularly for vulnerable groups like children with special needs.

The second garden was established in 2014 by three childhood friends. They were inspired by one founder’s grandmother, who loved gardening. They also wanted to promote organic farming, teach people healthy eating habits, and create a self-reliant community.

All of my interviewees were activists for food justice. This refers to efforts aimed at addressing systemic inequities in food production, distribution, and access, particularly for marginalised communities. It advocates for equitable access to nutritious, culturally appropriate food.

One of the gardens, for instance, operates about 30 beds. It cultivates a variety of produce: beetroot, carrots, spinach, pumpkins, potatoes, radishes, peas, lettuce and herbs. 30% of its produce is donated to local community centres each month (they were unable to say how many people benefited from this arrangement). The rest is sold to support the garden financially. Its paying clients include local restaurants and chefs, and members of the community. The garden also partners with schools, hospitals and other organisations to promote healthy eating and sustainable practices.

The second garden, which is on land belonging to a local early childhood development centre, also focuses on feeding the community, as well as engaging in food justice activism.

Skills, resilience and connections

The gardens also help members to develop skills. Members gain practical knowledge about sustainable agriculture, marketing and entrepreneurship, all while managing operations and planning for growth.


Read more: Healthy food is hard to come by in Cape Town’s poorer areas: how community gardens can fix that


This hands-on experience instils a sense of responsibility and gives participants valuable skills they can apply in future careers or ventures. The founder of the first garden told me his skills empowered him to seek help from his own community rather than waiting for government intervention. He approached the management of an early childhood development centre in the community to request space on their land, and this was granted.

Social connections have been essential to the gardens’ success. Bonding capital (close ties within their networks) and bridging capital (connections beyond their immediate community) has allowed them to strengthen relationships between themselves and civil society organisations. They’ve also been able to mobilise resources, as in the case of the first garden accessing community land.

Additionally, the gardens foster community resilience. Members host workshops and events to educate residents about healthy eating, sustainable farming and environmental stewardship.

By donating produce to local early childhood centres, they provide direct benefits to those most in need. These efforts have transformed the gardens into safe spaces for the community.

Broader collaboration has also been key to the gardens’ success. For instance, the second garden has worked with global organisations and networks, like the Slow Food Youth Network, to share and gain knowledge about sustainable farming practices.

Room for growth

My findings highlight the need for targeted support for youth-driven urban agriculture initiatives. Policy and financial backing can enable these young gardeners to expand their efforts. This in turn will allow them to provide more food to their communities, create additional jobs, and empower more young people.

At a policy level, the government could prioritise land access for urban agriculture projects, especially in under-served communities. Cities can foster an environment for youth initiatives to thrive by allocating spaces within their planning for urban farming.


Read more: Africa’s megacities threatened by heat, floods and disease – urgent action is needed to start greening and adapt to climate change


There’s also a need for educational programmes that emphasise the value of sustainable urban agriculture, and workshops and training on entrepreneurship and sustainable farming techniques. Community organising could further empower young farmers. Finally, continued collaboration with national and international food networks would help strengthen such initiatives.

– Urban food gardens produce more than vegetables, they create bonds for young Capetonians – study
– https://theconversation.com/urban-food-gardens-produce-more-than-vegetables-they-create-bonds-for-young-capetonians-study-243500