INTRODUCTION
Massive displacement of civilians has been a dominant feature of violent conflict in South Sudan. Most of the displaced were forced from their ancestral areas by the protracted North–South civil wars that ended through the Comprehensive Peace Agreement (CPA) in 2005. Yet, violent conflicts within the South also caused major movements of people. These included conflicts over grazing land (Jok & Hutchinson Reference Jok and Hutchinson1999; Dreef & Wagner Reference Dreef and Wagner2013) and confrontations between different military factions (e.g. Jok Reference Jok2011), such as the factional fighting after a 1991 attempt by Riek Machar to oust John Garang from the leadership of the Sudanese People's Liberation Movement/Army (SPLM/A) (e.g. Nyaba Reference Nyaba1997; Dreef & Wagner Reference Dreef and Wagner2013). The interim period following the signing of the CPA witnessed a massive return of displaced people and refugees, notably prior to the referendum on self-determination and after South Sudan's independence in 2011. Yet, many refugees and displaced people considered their home areas unsafe or lacking in services and resettled elsewhere (Sluga Reference Sluga2010). Moreover, new conflicts erupted in various parts of South Sudan (e.g. ICG 2009). In December 2013, disagreement among elites of the ruling party SPLM escalated into a nation-wide civil war (De Vries & Justin Reference De Vries and Justin2014), which resulted in the displacement of almost 1·7 million civilians, mainly from the three states of Unity, Upper Nile and Jonglei and some parts of greater Bahr el Ghazal.Footnote 1
Long-term displacement and massive resettlement of displaced people, as well as the return of the displaced and refugees to their home communities, resulted in numerous competing claims on land between returnees and those displaced (e.g. De Wit Reference De Wit2004; Pantuliano Reference Pantuliano2007). The Land Act of 2009, adopted by the Government of South Sudan (GOSS) during the interim period, attempted to resolve such competing land claims. It stipulated that land occupied unlawfully during war-time should be returned to its pre-war owners, and those who had been occupying these lands in ‘good faith’ should be duly compensated for the investments made on the land (Land Act 2009: 82). However, this restitution process is problematic and politically sensitive.
This paper explores the politics of displacement-related land disputes in Yei River County in South Sudan. It explores how a history of protracted displacement has resulted in structural changes in land occupation and land governance, which become increasingly problematic with the return of refugees and the displaced, and the ongoing settlement of people from other parts of the country. The failure of existing legal frameworks and institutions to address the ensuing land conflicts contributes to heightened tensions between host communities, the displaced and other settlers. A critical dynamic in the ethnically diverse context of Yei is that disputes around land and its governance may become the backdrop for broader political contention around land-control, state power and identity. As the case of Giru village demonstrates, a local dispute between a returning landowner and a displaced family may become locally understood in terms of higher level contestations about who belongs where and who is in charge, and may trigger large-scale political mobilisation.
This poses challenges to humanitarian and development organisations that aim to protect and assist returning refugees and so-called Internally Displaced People, or IDPs. The case of Yei River County underscores that the challenge of addressing displacement crises is not so much how to return to the pre-war situation, but rather how to carefully deal with new claims and political realities on the ground. Inevitably, interventions to assist IDPs are complex and politically laden. In contestations about land and its governance, communities of displaced people are not just powerless victims. Some promote or are co-opted into highly controversial agendas. At the same time, displaced people who lack political connections may become vulnerable and lose their land rights.
To make this argument, the paper is structured as follows. The next section introduces our approach to analysing displacement-related land disputes. The third section reviews displacement in Yei River County and shows how this has affected local land ownership and governance, and the relations between displaced persons and returnees. Building on the case of a dispute in Giru village, the fourth section explores what this implies regarding how land disputes are perceived and resolved, and highlights the politics involved. The conclusion reflects on what this implies for humanitarian intervention and academic research on land disputes in conflict-affected settings.
Data collection for this paper was carried out in two periods (November 2011–June 2012 and September 2012–April 2013), following an ethnographic approach. Research methods included extended interviews, focus group discussions, participant observations and workshops, covering a wide range of respondents. Key informants included IDPs and the returning residents, victims of land disputes and local authorities, such as government officials, traditional authorities and elders knowledgeable of local (land) governance. Interviews also included academics, and a wide range of non-governmental organisations (NGOs), the civil society and local community-based organisations.
THE POLITICS OF DISPLACEMENT-RELATED LAND DISPUTES
To explore the political dynamics of displacement-related land disputes, we start with three key ideas. First, we consider that, rather than a temporary situation in which original claims to land are put on hold, in practice displacement may result in a drastic and sometimes irreversible reorganisation of land occupation and governance. Once displaced, people search for land elsewhere, and often their resettlement gradually turns into permanent occupation. Sometimes, such transformations in access to and control over land are intentionally created, facilitated by the instability that characterises post-conflict settings (Peluso & Lund Reference Peluso and Lund2011). Displacement is not only about the retreat of people to safer places, but also about the occupation of territory, which could become a deliberate strategy to secure military control. The chaos resulting from civil wars and the subsequent displacement of civilians creates opportunities for manipulation, settling land-related scores, forceful dispossession, and irregular acquisition of land (André & Platteau Reference André and Platteau1998; van der Haar & van Leeuwen Reference Van der Haar and van Leeuwen2013). Frequently, land becomes booty or is used as a reward for military and political support. Such reordering of land ownership often turns permanent or is even legalised after war (e.g. Grajales Reference Grajales2011), and constitutes an important source of tenure insecurity in post-war settings (Unruh Reference Unruh2003; Peters Reference Peters2004; Huggins & Clover Reference Huggins and Clover2005). Likewise, displacement often results in ‘settled facts’ on the ground in terms of who is in charge of land governance and what rules apply (Korf & Fünfgeld Reference Korf and Fünfgeld2006). War-related displacement affects the capacities, authority and legitimacy of land-governing institutions. Institutional capacity to deal with land issues may be lost when local land-governing authorities have fled or lost legitimacy as a result of their affiliation with the ‘wrong side of the conflict’. New land-governing practices may be introduced by displaced people from elsewhere, which implies changes in the ‘rules of the game’ on land tenure, or the legitimacy of the institutions in charge (Unruh Reference Unruh2003). This may result in a drastic reorganisation of who can access land, who is in charge of land, and how disputes are solved (see Unruh Reference Unruh2003; Korf & Fünfgeld Reference Korf and Fünfgeld2006). Such displacement-induced changes in land occupation and governance may be difficult to reverse after conflict is over. As the case of Yei illustrates, policies to return land to the pre-war residents and to compensate those who have been occupying the land in the meantime and invested in it may become contentious and politically sensitive.
Second, displacement and post-conflict policies to deal with it may promote particular political projects around land, sovereignty, state power and identity, or may be perceived as such, resulting in resistance and possibly new violence. In this regard, land and political conflicts may be linked in complex ways. Land is not necessarily a key and deliberate concern for protagonists in civil violence, but may become effectively linked to other contentious issues, or become an arena in which other conflicts are manifested (van Leeuwen & van der Haar Reference Van Leeuwen and van der Haar2016). Through their strategic agency, local actors may effectively convince others to understand local rivalries and insecurities as salient manifestations of higher level cleavages (see Richards Reference Richards2005; Kalyvas Reference Kalyvas2006). Local land disputes may for instance be re-interpreted in terms of higher-level fissures between groups and so help mobilise local communities for a national cause. Examples from Rwanda (André & Platteau Reference André and Platteau1998), Sierra Leone (Chaveau & Richards Reference Chaveau and Richards2008) and DRC (Autesserre Reference Autesserre2008) illustrate these dynamics.
Frequently, contestations over access to land or land ownership become linked to the question of identity and ethnic belonging, which continues to be the case in many countries of post-colonial Africa, including countries which are less affected by violence than South Sudan (Fanthorpe Reference Fanthorpe2001; Vlassenroot & Huggins Reference Vlassenroot and Huggins2005; Mamdani Reference Mamdani2014). In various African countries, politicians manipulate the notions of ‘ethnic strangers’ and ‘home area’ or ‘historical rights to land’ to gain support among the ‘locals’ (Mamdani Reference Mamdani2001; Unruh Reference Unruh2003; Juba Reference Juba2009). As land is the basis of the political order in many African contexts, various authors point out how land issues provide a political space where conflicts about power and the legitimacy of competing claims to authority are played out, and where the state is redefined (Berry Reference Berry2002; Boone Reference Boone2007; Sikor & Lund Reference Sikor and Lund2009). Effectively, contestations about land may come down to a process of negotiating the scope and nature of the state, for instance: who is in charge at what level, to what extent customary institutions may play a role alongside institutions of the state, what citizenship means, and how this relates to land rights.
As we will see in the case of Yei, displacement-related land disputes become connected in various ways to wider political agendas, with the potential to turn small-scale conflicts into major threats to stability. In Yei, displacement-related competing claims over land and land-governing authority feed into conflicts about belonging and authority over land. The land dispute in Giru village shows how as a result of this a land conflict at the local level can easily escalate into major political violence.
Finally, displaced people may be crucial players in such politics, being associated with or actively engaging in the promotion of certain political agendas that are to the disadvantage of host communities. Among humanitarian and development organisations, such a political perspective on displaced people and refugees is still relatively new. Only recently, these organisations have come to acknowledge that IDPs and refugees should not be considered as ‘victims’ only, but that they have agency and may strategically engage in politically contentious actions. In the academic literature, the concept of ‘warrior refugees’ underscores the active role of displaced people and refugees in violence (Haslie Reference Haslie2006; Harpviken Reference Harpviken2008: 2; Salehyan Reference Salehyan2008), including the case of South Sudan (Haslie Reference Haslie2006). But even if the agency of the displaced is not violent, it may thwart the interests of local residents, or be perceived as such. Such realities may make humanitarian organisations' efforts to identify ‘genuine IDPs’ or ‘victims’ problematic. The case of Yei also brings out this real or perceived political agency of displaced people. At the same time, as the Giru case also shows, some displaced people may have more agency than others, and those displaced without political or military backing may be at the losing end.
INTERNAL DISPLACEMENT AND CHANGING LAND OCCUPATION AND GOVERNANCE IN YEI RIVER COUNTY
Yei River County was one of the six Counties of Central Equatoria State that existed right from the independence of South Sudan in 2011 until 2015. At that time, South Sudan consisted of ten states, with each state subdivided into Counties, Payams and Bomas (TCRSS 2011). Giru village, the site of the case-study below, is part of Yei Payam.Footnote 2 Yei River County is located in the south-west of the country, bordering the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) to the west, and close to the border with Uganda in the south-east. Yei town is the main ‘hub’ of the County, and was established during the colonial period as the District headquarters for what was Yei River District (Leonardi Reference Leonardi2007).
In the late 1980s, Yei became a main battlefield between the Sudan Armed Forces (SAF) and the Sudan People's Liberation Army (SPLA), which ended with SPLA's military victory over the town in 1997. After this victory, the town was turned into SPLM/A's headquarters, and remained so until the signing of the CPA in 2005 (e.g. Leonardi Reference Leonardi2007). As a result of decentralisation policies adopted by the Government of Southern Sudan (GoSS) during the interim period, Yei town became the administrative centre of the County, subdivided to five Payams (Yei, Mugwo, Otogo, Lasu and Tore). A County serves as the first tier of local government in South Sudan, and it is at this level that state institutions interact directly with society (Local Government Act 2009).
As a result of different waves of migrations and displacement in the past, Yei became an ethnically diverse County, representing most of the ethnic groups of South Sudan. This also poses a major challenge: the settlement of displaced people and migrants had significant consequences for land occupation, as well as for local governance, notably resulting in competition over who should be in charge of land attribution and administration, and what rules should apply.
Displacement, shifting land occupation and land disputes
During the North–South civil war (1983–2005) in Sudan, multiple displacements took place in the County which over time resulted in drastic reordering of land occupation and a reshuffle of the governance structures that existed prior to the start of the civil war. As SPLA forces were advancing towards Yei town by the late 1980s, most urban residents fled and settled in surrounding villages or crossed to neighbouring countries, for fear that they might be considered legitimate targets by the advancing SPLA forces. These fears originated in a common belief that the SPLA had grudges against the people of Equatoria for their support to decentralisation policies in the early 1980s, which had resulted in severe violence against Equatorians after the 1983 rebellion (see Scott Reference Scott1985; Branch & Mampilly Reference Branch and Mampilly2005). In January 1990, SPLA forces succeeded in temporarily taking control of residential areas in Yei town before being forced out by the SAF. While withdrawing, SPLA forces forcefully took along any remaining civilians in the town, and resettled them in the border town of Kaya, which they had captured a few days earlier.
Yei town remained a battlefield between SPLA and SAF until it was captured by the SPLA in 1997 and turned it into its headquarters (JZ 2012 int.). This attracted displaced people from other war-affected areas who were sympathetic to the movement to settle in the area. Alongside, soldiers moved in, either to join their commanders or families (see Sluga Reference Sluga2010). Effectively, successive movements of populations resulted in an almost complete replacement of the pre-war inhabitants of Yei town by a combination of soldiers and civilians from other communities, most of whom were from the Dinka communities. Importantly, the residential areas that came about since the arrival of displaced people and migrants developed largely along ethnic lines, each being mainly inhabited by people with shared ethnic backgrounds. This had important consequences later on.
During the interim period (2005–2011), the relative peace and security brought about by the CPA encouraged most of those who had fled Yei during the war to return. In most cases, returnees found their houses and land occupied by soldiers, civilians and migrants from elsewhere. As mentioned earlier, the Land Act of 2009 stipulates that land unlawfully occupied by others should be returned to the pre-war owners, with due compensation for investments made on the land. It should be observed that many returnees and displaced people manage to come to agreements, either through negotiated settlement or through arbitration. Those who could pay for the needed compensations did so and those who could not abandoned their claims altogether (IPCS 2012 int.). Nonetheless, in a significant number of cases, the restitution process was problematic and contested.
First of all, attempts by the pre-war owners to reclaim their land were faced by strong and sometimes violent resistance from the ‘new settlers’, both soldiers and the IDPs (De Wit Reference De Wit2004; Pantuliano Reference Pantuliano2007). Often, soldiers resisted restitution of the land, claiming that ‘we will return your land [only] in exchange for buckets of blood’ (see Leonardi Reference Leonardi2011), phrases interpreted by returning pre-war landowners as threats to kill. Local narratives recount how various returnees lost their lives in the process of reclaiming their land. As a result of the history of repopulation of the area during the war, soldiers frequently reside alongside the IDPs and migrants from elsewhere. This contributes to strong relations between the two groups, who share a feeling of having stayed together as ‘comrades’ during the wartime. Moreover, frequently, IDPs in most settlements belong to the same ethnic group as the soldiers. Consequently, soldiers sometimes come to the aid of IDPs and migrants in resisting land claims of the returnees (AD 2012 int.; JE 2012 int.; PS 2012 int.). As a result of this, land disputes often pitch communities of returnees against communities of displaced (see Martin & Sluga Reference Martin and Sluga2011: 11). Though the SPLA is often depicted as Dinka-dominated, not all soldiers, displaced people and migrants are Dinka. Even then, among the returnees – many of whom are Kakwa – displaced people, migrants and soldiers are increasingly perceived as all belonging to the same group involved in land grabs and violence against host communities (MT 2011 int.).
Moreover, displacement-related land disputes have become persistent, as displacement has become more or less permanent. Many displaced people who arrived during the war are still around, while violence in other parts of South Sudan during the interim period resulted in new arrivals (ICG 2009). In addition, various returning refugees preferred to settle in Yei County rather than to return to their home areas. The relative peace in the area brought economic activity, which further stimulated migration of people from elsewhere, as well as a movement from the rural areas to the town.
Crucially, the displacement-related land disputes are difficult to deal with as land-governing institutions lack legitimacy, or the power to enforce legislation, while there is disagreement about who should be in charge of land governance, and how to determine legitimate claims to land ownership.
Displacement and contested land-governing institutions
Before the start of the civil war in 1983, land governance in Yei was based on local customs prevailing among the Kakwa ethnic community, which constitutes a large part of the population. As in other parts of South Sudan, land in most parts of Yei was communally owned, and an individual's land rights were acquired through one's membership of the land-owning community. A land custodian, locally known as ‘Monye Menu’, managed this community land and advised chiefs or government institutions in relation to land matters. Outsiders could enjoy secondary land rights as long as they adhered to the traditional norms of land use (RL 2013 int.). In contrast, residential pieces of land in Yei town were allocated and regulated by the local government authorities. Unlike in rural areas, land allocated by local government authority was usually gazetted, demarcated and registered. Local government authorities charged service fees and taxes (AD 2012 int.). If more land was necessary, government authorities negotiated this with surrounding land-owning communities in return for traditional ‘gifts’ locally known as ‘kewatat’ (AD 2012 int.).
As described earlier, when SPLA forces advanced to Yei in the late 1980s, most chiefs and other authorities involved in local (land) governance fled the area. To address the institutional vacuum created by their absence, SPLA appointed new chiefs, some from local communities and others from communities of IDPs who settled in Yei. While the earlier chiefs were acknowledged by their community for their ability to negotiate and pass convincing judgements, the SPLA was more concerned about chiefs' capacities to provide young conscripts for SPLA-allied militias, and collect food for the SPLA's fighting forces (e.g. Leonardi Reference Leonardi2007). Additionally, with the return of stability after 1997, and the incremental settlement of displaced and migrant communities in town, the new residents started to elect chiefs from their own ethnic groups, or appointed chiefs from among the local residents who had not fled. In addition to their roles in conflict mitigation and resolution, these ‘new chiefs’ were also tasked with the re-allocation of the vacated lands to the new residents.
The Land- and the Local Government Acts of 2009 acknowledged these parallel systems of land governance. The Acts give chiefs the authority to solve land conflicts in rural areas and peri-urban centres, as well as small-scale land conflicts in urban areas. The jurisdiction of government courts is limited to registered lands in urban centres. In the case of Yei, this implies that the authority of the government court to deal with land conflicts is restricted to a few residential areas within the town. In most parts of Yei, land disputes fall under the responsibility of chiefs' courts, which base their judgements on ‘local custom’ of the traditional landowners.
Nonetheless, the multiple displacements that occurred in the area during the war periods had a significant impact on the legitimacy and authority of land-governing institutions. In the first place, parties in land disputes invoked different notions of legitimate land claims (cf. Badiey Reference Badiey2013). During the interim period and after independence, most returnees tried to reclaim their former landholdings with reference to the pre-conflict allocations by local government authorities if they lived in the town or with reference to traditional land rights if their lands were in rural areas. Migrants, displaced people, and particularly the soldiers, legitimised their land claims in various ways. Displaced people and migrants referred to the fact that land had been allocated to them by the authorities in place when they arrived in the area. Force plays an important role in how such claims are made. For instance, soldiers ignore claims from returnees, arguing that they ‘liberated’ the lands from the ‘Jalaba’,Footnote 3 and thus have the right to perpetually settle on these (see also De Wit Reference De Wit2004; Pantuliano Reference Pantuliano2007).
Unfortunately, the Magistrate's Court in Yei town could not resolve most of such cases. The Magistrate's Court is overwhelmed with land disputes, and it often takes a long time before cases are attended to. In addition, the Magistrate's Court has limited means to ensure that decisions taken by the court are implemented in practice. Moreover, resolving a land dispute is particularly problematic if one of the parties is a soldier: soldiers often ignore calls to appear in court, claiming that soldiers cannot be prosecuted in civilian courts (RL 2013 int.). There are no military tribunals in the County that might intervene in such cases. Even if the government court passes judgements on cases between returnees and those occupying their land, these are often not enforced. This is because the court lacks institutional capacity to enforce punishments, or because wealthy convicts may ‘buy their way out’ through bribery. Moreover, it seems that those with good connections to political elites or the military are often left unpunished for fear that their sentencing might result in ‘insecurity’ or ‘instability’ (RB 2011 int.).
The traditional (chief's) court system often has problems of legitimacy. Chiefs traditionally from Yei argue that they can legitimately deal with returnee-related disputes, as they base themselves on the customs of the people of Yei, and that their authority is acknowledged in the Land- and the Local Government Acts. However, displaced people and migrants often disqualify the judgements by traditional chiefs as being prejudiced against them. They argue that those chiefs, who are mostly Kakwa, are more sympathetic to the claims of their own ‘tribesmen’ or lack understanding of the norms and conventions of other ethnic communities. A related complication is that some displaced communities have been around for so long that some have appointed their own chiefs to resolve disputes and allocate land. This turns problematic when the land they have distributed is now reclaimed by returnee communities (PS 2012 int.). Moreover, returnees do not recognise the authority of these ‘new chiefs’, and object to attending their courts (GB 2012 int.; PS 2012 int.; SA 2013 int.).
Finally, there is contestation about the authority of chiefs that have been appointed during the war by the SPLA. By the end of the civil war, most SPLA-appointed chiefs kept their positions, and were acknowledged as part of local government through the Local Government Act (AM 2012 int.). However, these non-traditional chiefs often operate in disconnect from the traditional land custodians, the Monye Menu, and fail to involve them in land allocations. Returnees tend to consider decisions on land by these SPLA-appointed chiefs as illegal, and thus claim that the land should be returned to the pre-war owners. Soldiers and the IDPs on the other hand consider that the new chiefs are recognised by the state as part of local government, and that land allocations by them are thus legitimate.
To deal with the contestation about their authority, most chiefs' courts in Yei have started to organise joint court sessions, which include traditional leaders, elders and chiefs from both parties involved in such conflicts (PL 2012 int.). Though this approach has been instrumental in resolving some disputes, it is not always effective on land conflicts. Often, migrant chiefs decline from attending land-related court sessions (CC 2012 int.; PS 2012 int.).
Displacement in Yei has thus come down to a drastic reorganisation of how land is occupied, and to contestation about its governance. Obviously, part of the struggle about land-governing authority is about the efforts of the civilian administration and the judiciary to re-assume their ‘normal’ roles in a situation where there is uncertainty about these roles and the prerogatives of the different institutions involved. It is problematic that this contestation takes place in the context of an uneasy transition from military rule to civilian administration, in which the military have difficulties in getting adjusted to their new role, with the risk of such contestations turning violent.
Such contestation about displacement-related land disputes and their resolution may become strongly connected to larger political conflicts. We will illustrate this by the case of a land conflict in Giru village that broke out at the end of 2012. In this case, competing claims over land between returnees and displaced people were re-interpreted in terms of grievances of the past, and resentments against other ethnic communities, and eventually to IDPs in general. As a consequence, a local dispute that started between neighbouring families quickly escalated to a wider conflict that threatened the security of the entire town.
THE GIRU LAND CONFLICT
Giru village is located some three kilometres north-east of Yei town and is part of Gimunu Boma of Yei Payam in the county. As in most parts of Yei, the traditional inhabitants of this village, who are predominantly Kakwa from the Gimunu clan, fled their homes to escape SPLA forces in 1990. Giru is located in the vicinity of the main military barracks in Yei, and after the capture of Yei, it attracted many soldiers and their relatives to settle in the area, including civilians displaced from elsewhere. As settlement of displaced people largely followed ethnic lines, most soldiers and displaced people settling in this area happened to be from the Kuku ethnic group. Like the Kakwa, the Kuku originate from Central Equatoria State and speak the same language: Bari. Both ethnic groups have been known for peaceful coexistence with their neighbours (see Lebrun Reference Lebrun2006; LeRiche & Arnold Reference LeRiche and Arnold2013).
Upon the settlement of the displaced people, a senior SPLA-officer from the Kuku ethnic group appointed a village headman from the Kakwa, who was related to the pre-war residents through kinship. As was the case elsewhere in Yei, this headman allocated pieces of land to the soldiers and the displaced people who settled in his village. During the interim period, more people from the Kuku ethnic group moved to settle in this area, mostly comprising returnees from Uganda and the DRC (DP 2012 & 2013 multiple int.).
In 2008, one of the Kakwa families that had lived in the area before the war returned, but found that most of their land was occupied by a group of IDPs and soldiers, including the SPLA-officer (DP 2012 int.). The returnee family failed to persuade the displaced families and the soldiers to leave their land, and thus took the case to the Head-chief of the Payam court in Yei. However, the involvement of an SPLA-officer, as well as the fact that the displaced people belonged to another ethnic group made it challenging for the Head-chief to resolve the case. As the dispute was in a rural area, the government court in Yei had no jurisdiction. After more than three years of ineffective efforts to persuade the occupants to leave – and probably also out of disappointment with the lack of help from both the chief and the government courts – in November 2012, the head of the family of returnees destroyed some of the properties belonging to the IDPs and set on fire six of their grass-thatched houses ( JJ 2013 int.). In response, the SPLA-officer mobilised soldiers from his own ethnic group (Kuku), and attacked the returnee family. Eight members from the family were injured and had to be hospitalised.Footnote 4 Thereafter, the SPLA-officer arrested the head of the family and ordered the police in Yei town to put him in custody. One day later, the SPLA-officer mobilised some of the IDPs and soldiers to protest at the County offices in Yei, for being discriminated against by the returnee family, on basis of their identity as Kukus, and they demanded protection from the police as IDPs.
The fact that most of the soldiers involved in the assault against this family were Kuku made other Kakwas in the village see this as an ethnically motivated attack against their group. As a result, they organised a series of meetings to prevent further escalation of the conflict, first at the level of the village and later also at the County level, including Kakwa elders, youth and chiefs.Footnote 5 Thereafter, a meeting was organised at the County with chiefs and elders representing various ethnic communities in Yei, and another one with government officials and senior SPLA-officers. During the latter meeting, the SPLA-officer alleged that Kakwa communities had been preparing violent attacks, not only against the Kuku, but also against the Dinka and Nuer ethnic groups, and against the military barracks, in retaliation for the attack on the Kakwa family in Giru village.Footnote 6 These allegations struck a chord with the other ethnic communities and resulted in mobilisation in preparation for the expected attacks from the Kakwa. At the military barracks, Kakwa soldiers were disarmed and ordered to periodically report to their superiors from other ethnic groups (SS 2012 int.).
In the meantime, two court cases were being pursued. The first case was at the Magistrate Court in Yei, and was filed by the head of the assaulted family against the SPLA-officer. The SPLA-officer initially rejected the request to attend the sitting at the court, but later complied after being ordered by the Ministry of Defence in Juba to do so (DP 2013 int.). Nonetheless, the SPLA-officer continued to show his defiance at the court, and during the final court session, his colleagues from the army, mainly Dinka this time, threatened at gunpoint everybody in the court premises, including the judge.Footnote 7 The Ministry of Defence acted swiftly by sending military police to arrest the soldiers involved, and to stand guard during the remaining court sessions. The officer was ultimately declared guilty of assaulting the returnee family and sentenced to four months' imprisonment.Footnote 8 On the sixth day of serving his sentence, the County commissioner unilaterally decided to release him, arguably to keep ‘peace in the County’ (MM 2012 int.). Indeed, right from the start of the court session against the SPLA-officer on 14 December 2012, Yei town witnessed a series of night raids by presumably ‘unknown’ gunmen who set many houses on fire. These raids continued throughout the period of the detention of the officer, but stopped the very day he was released. This resulted in speculations in town that his colleagues in the army had coordinated the raids, out of protest against his detention.Footnote 9 These raids left seventy-three houses destroyed.Footnote 10
The second court case took place at the chief's court in Yei, which was presided over by a Kakwa chief appointed by the SPLA, and was initiated by a group of displaced people whose properties had been destroyed by the head of the returnee family. Unlike at the Magistrate Court, events at the chief's court followed a different path altogether. The displaced people failed to get their case attended to by the chief. Every time they went to the court, they were either told their case had been postponed because of other urgent cases, or that their case files could not be found, and that those who were still interested in pursuing the case should open it afresh. As a result of these delays, some of the displaced people abandoned their cases altogether (ID1 & ID2 2013 int.). During follow-up discussions with these displaced people and with representatives of the chief's court, different versions of what actually happened were collected. Representatives from the chief's court claimed that the claimants were actually ‘land grabbers’, who had tried to acquire the land under the pretext of being IDPs, and that the court was therefore not interested in assisting them. The displaced people themselves had the impression that their case was not taken seriously, for the simple fact that they were not Kakwa, and thus not favoured by the chief's court (ID 2013 int.). Probably because of the sensitivity of this case or doubts about the actual status of the displaced people, neither international NGOs providing humanitarian assistance to IDPs, nor government institutions in the County came to the aid of these displaced families.
This case of a returnee-related land dispute in Giru village illustrates the different dynamics explored in the previous section. It highlights how power relations and the use of violence have come to play a significant role in consolidating claims on land. It also illustrates the weakness of land-governing institutions and the difficult transition from military to civilian rule. Through the use of violence, the SPLA-officer managed to de facto consolidate his claims on the disputed land, and defy state legislations on how land claims by returnees should be dealt with. Though the Magistrate Court reprimanded him for violence against the returnees, it was not capable of enforcing justice. Instead, his release by the County Commissioner was locally understood as de facto giving in to his claims on the land.
In contrast, though the SPLA-officer had aggressively protected the displaced families, in the court nobody came to their assistance, and eventually, their claim was not attended by dispute-resolving institutions. Unfortunately, as they were associated with the army, as a group they were seen as aggressors rather than as victims. The consequence of this was that, lacking strong connections to the military, they failed to get what they were legally entitled to, such as compensation for their lost investments in the land, nor did they receive assistance to resettle on alternative lands.
Notably, in this case the conflict resulted in widespread violence, and further fuelled negative perceptions among returnees of the displaced population in Yei. During the conflict period, authorities in Juba sent in soldiers to assist the police in Yei in order to control the deteriorating security situation. Unfortunately, the soldiers ended up causing more chaos by assaulting civilians. The violence was thus locally understood as being between Dinka soldiers and Equatorians, between ‘illegitimate’ migrants or ‘falsely’ displaced and ‘disregarded’ returnees. This disturbing development brings us to a critical element in the dispute, namely the issue of identity.
The politics of identity and perceptions of displaced
Identity has come to play an important role in the tensions around land between returnees, displaced people, migrants and soldiers. To returnees, changing land occupation and land governance effectively comes down to a consolidation of identity and hence of authority over territories by people from outside their community. In the context of Yei, the result is that returnees started to question the extent to which displaced people are vulnerable victims that genuinely fled civil violence elsewhere, or instead are part of a political agenda to grab their land. Such suspicions were especially aroused about displaced people belonging to the Dinka ethnic community, but are increasingly being associated with those displaced from other ethnic groups.
To understand this dynamic, we need to take into account the political history of South Sudan, notably the historical grievances by the people of Equatoria against the Dinka and fears of imminent ‘Dinka dominance’. This fear is a legacy of the period following the Addis Ababa agreement of 1972, which ended the first North–South civil war in Sudan. The agreement resulted in the establishment of a semi-autonomous Southern Regional Government. Yet, elites from other ethnic groups perceived that the Dinka were overrepresented in the regional government (e.g. Dreef & Wagner Reference Dreef and Wagner2013). This resulted in vigorous campaigns, particularly by political leaders from Equatoria, to administratively decentralise the South in order to achieve ethnically balanced representation in government institutions (Scott Reference Scott1985; Dreef & Wagner Reference Dreef and Wagner2013). This proposal was opposed by Dinka politicians, and resulted in a rift within the regional government along ethnic and regional lines (e.g. Johnson Reference Johnson2003). Even then, it was pushed through by President Nimeri, who decreed to divide the South into the regions of Equatoria, Upper Nile and Bahr el Ghazal, serving the interests of northern elites who had been opposed to a semi-autonomous status for South Sudan in the first place (Scott Reference Scott1985; Branch & Mampilly Reference Branch and Mampilly2005: 5).
However, implementation of the decentralisation policies became very contentious. Rather than an administrative decentralisation as suggested by its proponents, communities and government institutions in the three regions started to send away government officials to their regions of ‘origin’, sometimes violently. Even if such measures were meant as purely administrative and to promote lower-level officials to work in their respective regions, in practice, members of ethnic groups were forced to return to their ‘ancestral regions’. This resulted in increased tensions within the South among different communities (Branch & Mampilly Reference Branch and Mampilly2005). Many people in Equatoria came to believe that the 1983 rebellion by the SPLA, which was dominated by the Dinka, had primarily been to take revenge on the Equatorians for pioneering the division of the South, rather than to liberate Sudan from the grip of the northern ruling elites (Scott Reference Scott1985; Dreef & Wagner Reference Dreef and Wagner2013). Such perceptions were consolidated by the high levels of brutality and cases of human rights violations by SPLA soldiers in various parts of Equatoria during the early stages of the civil war (e.g. Branch & Mampilly Reference Branch and Mampilly2005).
Against this historical background, to many of the returning refugees in Yei, the large presence of Dinka among the displaced and soldiers in Yei and elsewhere in Equatoria is not a mere coincidence but rather a political strategy to reverse the decision that chased Dinka communities out of Equatoria more than three decades ago. Further evidence for this is found in the continuation of Dinka resettlement in Yei even after the 2005 peace deal, their involvement in various cases of land-grabs, and the support displaced people get from presumably Dinka soldiers to resist evictions by returning landowners. Statements used by some soldiers such as ‘we liberated you and the land’ or ‘you must pay buckets of blood to get back your land’ are often quoted by returnees to justify these perceptions. The recent presidential order to increase the number of states to twenty-eight is another confirmation to some Equatorian elites that the central government aims to ‘wipe out’ the name Equatoria, as none of the newly created states bears this name.
This history certainly came to play a role in the conflict in Giru as well. It is important to mention that the SPLA-officer, the main protagonist in this conflict, was not the ‘usual suspect’ of a displaced Dinka, but belonged to the Kuku ethnic group, a Bari-speaking community, just like the Kakwa, to which the family of returnees belonged. But playing on the historical grievances between the people of Equatoria and the Dinka and generally the military, the SPLA-officer came up with the allegation that the Kakwa community was planning to attack ethnic groups that had come from outside Yei. This allegation turned the conflict into one between Dinka and Kakwa, as well as between the army and the people of Equatoria. And when the violence reached its climax, the soldiers patrolling the streets of Yei, who were mainly from the Dinka community, harassed and assaulted everyone from Equatoria they came across, irrespective of whether they belonged to the Kakwa community or not.
Likewise, the evolution of land governance in the area is interpreted as serving the interests of displaced and migrants. As described earlier, after the take-over of Yei by the SPLA, in the absence of the original inhabitants and their chiefs, the military authorities appointed new chiefs, some from local communities, others among the displaced and migrants. The new chiefs were also given the authority to allocate pieces of land to the needy displaced and soldiers, effectively bypassing other authorities customarily involved in land allocation, notably the traditional land custodian, the Monye Menu. In the case of Giru, the headman appointed by the SPLA happened to be from the Kakwa, and related to the traditional landowners before the war. Nonetheless, the original residents disqualified his role in allocating land without properly consulting the Monye Menu. In the eyes of most returnees, land allocated by the new chiefs is irregularly acquired, amounting to land grabbing, and must be returned to the pre-war owners. For the soldiers and the displaced on the other hand, the new chiefs are recognised by the state as part of the local government, and whatever land they allocate is legal. When making his case at the magistrate court in Yei, the SPLA officer involved in the Giru conflict argued that he had legally acquired the land from the legitimate headman of the village, who after all is recognised by the SPLM establishment.Footnote 11
Moreover, returnees increasingly associate the displaced with soldiers, which results in blaming the displaced –alongside the soldiers– for their involvement in land disputes. The identification of one with the other is an outcome of patterns of displacement and resettlement during the war. The fact that the town was deserted by its civilian population when the SPLA ‘liberated’ Yei meant that the displaced communities, who were seeking for security to be settled alongside the soldiers, created ‘camp-like’, mixed settlements. Such camp-like settlements in which displaced people and soldiers lived together resulted in the development of close social relations between those groups. Currently, the social closeness works against the displaced, who are now seen as collaborating with the soldiers in what the returnees consider ‘irregular’ acquisitions of land. Indeed, various instances occurred where soldiers and the displaced cooperated to consolidate their claims to the land they occupied during the war. Again, the fact that a majority of both the displaced and soldiers are Dinka (e.g. Sluga Reference Sluga2010) makes distinguishing the displaced from the soldiers even more difficult, and contributes to blanket generalisations of the misconduct by the different groups along ethnic lines. In the case of Giru, to the returnee community of Yei town, it came as no surprise that the senior SPLA-officer could easily mobilise for violence, and organise demonstrations at the Commissioner's office, as the displaced were seen as his affiliates.
Finally, what contributes to the perception that the displaced and migrants are an occupying force is that temporal displacement seems to turn into permanent settlement. While at the end of the war, pre-war residents hoped that the displaced would eventually return to their areas of origin, they now observe that many of them stay, and that even more displaced arrive and settle in the County. Most of the new displaced fled from violence during the interim period, like in Jonglei State (JE 2012 int.). Local residents argue that, even if the newly displaced genuinely fled from violence, they could as well settle in safe areas closer to the war-affected areas they come from, rather than travelling all the way to settle in Yei (IPCS 2012 int.). Furthermore, some locals believe that some of the new displaced have moved from areas which are relatively safe (CA 2012 int.). Considering the fast urbanisation of Yei at the time of the fieldwork, the continuity in settlement of displaced people is likely a result of economic opportunities in the County. Yet, the continuing arrival of displaced people and migrants contributes to negative perceptions from the returnees. Returnees increasingly raise the question whether the ‘new IDPs’ are actually ‘victims’, being people that have been displaced by violence, or ‘migrants’, that seek economic opportunities at the disadvantage of the returnees (CB 2012 int.).
Unfortunately, these developments – the notion that displacement actually contributes to the reoccupation of territory by the Dinka, a perceived closeness between the displaced and the military, and growing fear among returnees that the displaced may settle in the County on a permanent basis – contribute to the fact that displaced people are now associated with a political agenda of claiming territory. Incidents like the Giru case, which are seen to exemplify the close relationship between the displaced and soldiers, tend to be generalised to the whole community of displaced people, and as such result in widespread violence.
Moreover, such perceptions affect all the displaced: also those that lack the backing of military associates or political affiliations to make claims to land. This has several unfortunate consequences. Even those displaced that are genuinely seeking refuge from violence in their own communities may be denied victimhood. Moreover, such perceptions impact the extent to which their legitimate claims on land are taken seriously, or whether they may be able to get what they are legally entitled to, such as compensation for investments in the lands they return to the owners.
It was evident that such perceptions of the displaced were also shared by representatives from the government and other institutions that intervened in the Giru case, and had consequences for the ways they dealt with the conflict. A clear example is the reluctance of the County authorities to order the police to protect the displaced during the violence resulting from the Giru conflict. Another instance is the apparent avoidance of the Payam court of attending to the complaints from the displaced. The prevailing negative labelling of displaced people might also explain the reluctance of NGOs present in the area to protect the displaced in the Giru case or to assist them to resettle elsewhere.
Such selective intervention by government institutions further fuels an already politically sensitive situation. When the County and Payam authorities failed to listen to their pleas, the displaced in Giru village interpreted this as taking sides with local communities. Moreover, it is increasingly difficult for local conflict resolution institutions to address disputes that are no longer understood as between individuals but as between different communities. The failures of land-governing institutions to deal with these conflicts may contribute to mobilisation along community or ethnic lines, as shown by the case of Giru.
CONCLUSION
This paper explored the impacts of war-related displacement of civilians on land occupation and land governance in South Sudan, and how this affects the relationships between returning refugees and displaced people and migrants from elsewhere. The case study of Yei River County shows that, rather than a temporary situation in which original claims to land are put on hold, in practice, displacement may come down to a drastic reorganisation of land occupation and control. This reorganisation is not easily reversed after conflict is over, and becomes increasingly problematic with the incremental return of refugees and the displaced, and with the ongoing settlement of people from other parts of the country. The case study illustrates the failure of existing legal frameworks and institutions to address the ensuing land conflicts between returning host communities, the displaced and new settlers.
Crucially, the case study highlights the importance of such reshuffles in land occupation and governance for the relationship between returnees and the displaced, as these are interpreted in terms of the political history of the country and the problematic question of identity. Though external interveners tend to associate displacement with seeking safe havens by those fleeing violent conflicts, local perceptions may be entirely different, depending on (historical) relations between host communities and the displaced. In the case of Yei, historical grievances between Dinka and Equatorians result in (Dinka) displaced being perceived as agents of a political agenda to (re)occupy territories in Equatoria.
Such references to identity to consolidate rights on land and authority – or instead to disqualify land ownership and land-governing authority of others – are certainly not limited to Yei, but also occur elsewhere in South Sudan. In some cases, this has not only resulted in divides among different communities, as in Yei, but also in rifts between the government and certain communities, or between different levels of government (see Justin & Kenyi Reference Justin and Kenyi2015). In Juba town for instance, resistance by the Bari community to give land for government buildings seemed to have been inspired by the fear for occupation of land and take-over of the land-governing authority by outsiders (Badiey Reference Badiey2013). Likewise, the current government crisis that started in December 2013 quickly encompassed the identity factor, and as the fighting continued, perceived efforts to occupy land of other ethnic groups came to play an important role in this. In Upper Nile State for example, land disputes between Dinka and Shilluk contributed to large numbers of Shilluk joining the rebels led by Riek Machar (Deng et al. Reference Deng, Deng, Pritchard and Sharma2015: 46).
As the dispute in Giru village illustrates, these dynamics around land-control and identity may play an important role in the continuation of instability. In this case, a local dispute between a returning landowner and a displaced family became locally understood in terms of a general political contestation about the meaning of citizenship and related land rights, and about who is in charge of land governance, and triggered large-scale political mobilisation.
In this respect, it is important to emphasise that while land conflicts in Equatoria are increasingly framed as between Dinka and Equatorians, the situation in Yei reveals that such conflicts may also occur between communities with no historical grievances. At the same time, as the case underscores, the wider ethno-political contestations between Dinka and Equatorians may provide a convenient opportunity for local actors to frame their claims to land in terms of this antagonism and so have a better chance of success.
Finally, the case underscores that displaced people are not necessarily victims, as humanitarian organisations tend to assume, but may be perceived as the source of (tenure) insecurity themselves, or as collaborators in a political project of regaining territory. Particularly problematic are cases in which the displaced strengthen their claims to land by military means. At the same time, local perceptions of displaced people as perpetrators of land grabbing and violence may leave those displaced who lack political and military connections more vulnerable.
