‘The link between natural resources and conflict’, as Charles Alao observes at the outset of Natural Resources and Conflict in Africa, ‘is probably as old as human settlement.’ As this excellent book documents, over the past fifteen years the precise nature of that link has generated intense academic interest, resulting in an extensive and varied literature on the subject. At the same time – influenced by but also stimulating and to some degree shaping academic debate – non-governmental organisations, governments and international organisations have also taken a much greater interest in the subject. In this, they have been prompted by extensive media coverage of wars with a natural resource dimension; coverage which in turn has drawn public attention to the topic. Whether one is focusing on academic debates, journalistic reporting, NGO advocacy or the activities of governments and organisations, the violence and the wars that have taken place on the African continent in the post-Cold War era have provided a critical backdrop to nearly all discussions and policy initiatives on the subject of natural resources and conflict.
It is a subject which, unsurprisingly, remains deeply emotive. This may be one reason, though there are clearly others, why the academic ‘debates’ alluded to above – ‘greed versus grievance’ or ‘scarcity versus abundance’ as the deeper source of violent conflict – have tended to be both intense and highly polarised. Discussion has not always been helped by the uneven quality of much of the journalistic coverage of African wars. Nor, perhaps, has it been aided by the demands of publishers interested (if only for marketing purposes) in seductively simple, mono-causal and eye-catching explanations for the continent's woes. As Alao demonstrates very clearly, however, framing the issues in this way – especially the tendency to posit simple causal connections and to concentrate only on a limited number of resources – has done more to obscure than to illuminate the complexity of the links that do indeed exist between resources and conflict. With Natural Resources and Conflict in Africa, he has made a significant contribution to improving our understanding of those links.
Alao also argues persuasively that there is ‘no direct correlation between natural resources and conflict beyond the structures, processes, and actors associated with the management and control of resources’. This insistence on ‘the primary importance of governance’ as the key to understanding the prevalence or relative absence of violent conflict over resources in Africa forms the central and underlying theme of the book. While the importance of ‘governance’ is not a new theme (and indeed is routinely highlighted by IFIs and donors), it is the detail and sophistication of Alao's analysis that makes his contribution so valuable. In individual chapters dealing with land, solid minerals, oil and water – all richly informed by empirical evidence from across the continent – he shows that the ‘possession of natural resources is neither a “curse” for those who have it, nor is it a “blessing” for countries not endowed’ with it. What explains the level and intensity of natural resource-related conflict is, ultimately, the ‘defectiveness or the selective efficiency of the apparatus of natural resources governance’. (As such, it may be noted, the sub-heading of the book is misleading, as Alao is plainly not suggesting that natural resource endowment in and of itself is a ‘tragedy’.)
Perhaps the most important contribution of the book is that it broadens the focus and debate on natural resources and conflict beyond those resources ‘vital to international market demands, especially diamonds, gold and oil’. As Alao convincingly demonstrates, too much attention has been paid to these at the expense of land, water and animal stock, all resources that are critical to an understanding especially (though not only) of communal conflict in many parts of Africa. As Alao stresses, ‘land is undoubtedly the most important natural resource in Africa’, and this basic fact alone makes the comparative neglect of it in the literature on natural resources and conflict all the more glaring. Land conflicts, as a particularly illuminating chapter, ‘Land and conflict’, makes clear, arise from a complex of sources that include, inter alia, scarcity, conflicting laws regulating land tenure, racial imbalances in land-ownership, the ‘clash of spiritual considerations with political and economic realities’ and, in some cases, the ‘massive influx’ of populations as a result of refugee emergencies. Given range of issues on which land conflicts thus touch, it is hardly surprising that they should, in Alao's words, be so ‘crucial to understanding security and development in Africa’.
The adage that a review cannot possibly do justice to the richness of a book is, in this case, certainly true. Natural Resources and Conflict in Africa is comprehensive in its focus and notable for its balanced and carefully argued conclusions. Alao has sensibly eschewed a narrow case-study approach in favour of a thematic ‘survey’ drawing on examples from across the continent, partly on the grounds, as he explains, that ‘academic writings may never be able to keep pace with the dynamic nature of most … resource-centred conflicts’. Even so, a great strength of the book remains its grounding in an intimate knowledge of individual cases; a feature of the book that is no doubt partly attributable to the deep familiarity and intelligent use made by its author of important work undertaken by African scholars in the field. In short, this is a major contribution deserving of a wide readership, providing as it does the basis for an informed discussion of what is certain to remain a sensitive though vitally important subject.