One of the least understood independent states in Africa has finally had its modern history written. Anyone concerning oneself with Angola should be grateful to Richardo Soares de Oliveira for accomplishing this daunting task: to account for and explain the economic and political developments of this country over the past decade and a half. For people not familiar with Angola, Magnificent and Beggar Land is an excellent starting point to get to know the country. For the few people well acquainted with it and even to Angolans and other insiders, the book provides a wealth of well-structured and detailed information bound to bring some new insights to, and a better understanding of, the country.
Angola and its predicament are not easy to comprehend. The “Angola experts” as well as the Angolans themselves are often in dispute over the country’s rulers—bad or not so bad—and over the country’s future—bright or bleak? Soares de Oliveira seems to fall into the latter category, with concluding remarks like “the regime cannot revolutionize itself” and that it “has no inclusive project of national development” (p. 212), which, I believe, is spot-on, unfortunately.
Anyway, we can agree that Angola has witnessed some of the darkest and cruelest moments in the history of mankind. The “civil war” that lasted for 40 years was for most of the time a “theater” of the Cold War. The United States and apartheid South Africa supported the UNITA rebels in their fight against the socialist MPLA regime supported by Cuba and the USSR, with every means available except for full-scale international war. We know there were millions of victims, internally displaced people, and land mines.
There is also much agreement about the fact that Angola has a strongly presidential regime. It has been ruled by the same president, Eduardo dos Santos, since 1979, backed by the socialist-turned-capitalist ruling party MPLA, the military generals, and a few insider businessmen, as pointed out by the author. Indisputably, this regime has also brought the country stability and remarkable economic growth. During the 1990s, Angola was among the world’s fastest-growing economies, mainly because it is Africa’s second-largest oil producer.
As with any historical discussion of a postcolonial state, the book starts with Angola’s history and a reflection on its colonial past, and, more specifically, Portuguese rule, the struggle against colonialism, and the foreign power’s appetite for petroleum and diamonds: “The manner in which Angola’s civil war ended is key to understanding the power of the MPLA regime in the post-war era,” the author writes (p. 2). In contrast to many foreign-brokered truces with some (frail) form of power sharing, Angola’s peace came about “with the government’s ferocious vanquishing of the … rebellion,” which implied a total victory and “an uncompromising mastery over Angola” (p. 3).
Soares de Oliveira also describes how the petroleum and diamond resources were the means by—and ultimate prize for—which the civil war was fought, and how these resources are the lifeline and “raison de vivre” of the ruling elite today. This particularly rich endowment of resources is the backbone of Angola’s economy, for good and for bad. For good, it made impressive economic growth; for bad, it entrenched a nonredistributive authoritarian regime in power, supported by both China and Western “collaborators.”
Angola highlights the “Africa rising” debate. Is Africa, with Angola as an example, on the rise economically and politically? Is it moving toward diversified growth and democratization, or is the widely reported political and economic progress merely the icing on the cake that conceals a persistent political and economic monoculture?
Soares de Oliveira’s claim that the MPLA regime has “an uncompromising mastery over Angola” are other words for what I have learned to know as one of the world’s most arrogant regimes. Angola’s rulers, like Vietnam’s, has won a war against the world’s superpower, and this fact seems to have imbedded in them the moral right to rule the country exclusively far into the future. The implication is also that any opposition is seen as subversion and treason, and handled accordingly. The author talks at length about the crushing of the main contender UNITA in 2002, the ongoing repression of the Cabindan separatists, and the brutal repression of street demonstrations and opposition parties.
In addition to Soares de Oliveira’s description of Angola’s patrimonial rentier regime and party-state, his description of Angola’s economy is outstanding. We get the sense of a static economy established to serve the interests of the rulers, as “Angola has no alternative, virtuous capitalists waiting in the wings to replace the oligarchs” (p. 164). The poor majority will remain poor, as “the party has not shifted towards mass distribution.” With the current economic crisis caused by drastically reduced oil prices, government expenditures on social sectors are going down, for instance with massive cuts in education, with the exception of the funds for university education—“the social mobility ticket of the national bourgeoisie” (p. 214).
The author’s wording is for the most part sober and academic, as it should be. At the same time, his language is colorful and vivid, and sometimes his British-style understatements underscore the importance of an argument. However, some of the terms used (for instance, to qualify the excesses of the ruling elite) could have been even sharper, and I miss two important debates on Angola.
I miss a more profound analysis of the personality and family of the president. Eduardo dos Santos’s long rule (since 1979) is matched (worldwide) only by that of Equatorial Guinea’s president. Angola is also an example of an increasingly nepotistic country, with the president’s son as the director of the country’s “sovereign” petroleum fund, and with his daughter—Africa’s first dollar billionaire and richest woman—as the director of the state oil company. She is also a “potential successor,” according to the national government-controlled media, and both are members of the MPLA Central Committee. Other children, ex-wife, cousins, and their spouses (that is, the extended family) are found in prominent positions within the state apparatus and state-led economy. The president’s personality and his family must clearly have a bearing on politics.
The other debate missing is the impact of ethnicity. We have seen a recent resurge of ethno-regionalism in other countries in southern Africa (Zambia, Zimbabwe, and Malawi spring to mind), and the Angolan “civil war” had some strong ethnic overtones. The latter and the creole/assimilado/mestiço origins of the ruling elite are displayed by Soares de Oliveira as a part of the historical background (p. 7–9), but the impact of ethno-regionalism in current politics is not well explored.
Magnificent and Beggar Land follows chronologically after what I see as the two most prominent books on Angola: Angola, the Weight of History, edited by Patrick Chabal and Nuno Vidal (2007) and Angola: Anatomy of an Oil State, by Tony Hodges (2004). Truly, this timely book gives the background for what I believe will happen next: With the drastic reduction of Angola’s petroleum revenues, the regime will defend its privileges even more violently.
