Military organizations operate through a hierarchical institutional logic which – as a mode of reference – shapes actors’ choices for sensemaking, but also their sense of self and identity (Thornton et al. Reference Thornton, Lounsbury, Ocasio, Thornton, Lounsbury and Ocasio2012: 2). The Ghana Armed Forces is no exception. In fact, the Ghanaian military's hierarchy is fundamental to the institution as it is what makes it effective and professional. In this article, I present the historical unmaking and remaking of the pyramidical hierarchical structure of the command and authority structures in the Ghanaian military in the context of the country's history of coups, specifically the coups of 1979 and 1981 (Hutchful Reference Hutchful1997; Oquaye Reference Oquaye2004; Nugent Reference Nugent1995).
The argument is based on a definition of the military institution as a closed system – a system that operates according to its own self-referential and internal tenets (Luhmann Reference Luhmann2006; Hamilton Reference Hamilton1986; Arkin and Dobrofsky Reference Arkin and Dobrofsky1978), with a very specific institutional logic of hierarchy, which becomes the habitus (Bourdieu Reference Bourdieu and Nice1995) of anyone who is drafted into the Ghana Armed Forces. All military personnel, as part of their military training, are subjected to a process of ‘personal defacement’ (Goffman Reference Goffman1961: 14) in which the individual is stripped of his or her civilian identity by eliminating all material objects that link her or him to their civilian past, such as clothing or toiletries. The newcomer then transitions ‘from skinned-head recruit through the warrior's initiation rites, to being badged and rewarded with retirement’ (Arkin and Dobrofsky Reference Arkin and Dobrofsky1978: 152). In short, through these mental and physical subjection processes, the newcomer learns to accept her or his place in the military hierarchyFootnote 1 by undergoing ‘mortification’ (Goffman Reference Goffman1961; Arkin and Dobrofsky Reference Arkin and Dobrofsky1978) in which the new arrival is forced through training to develop a new military identity, one that is completely divorced from her or his civilian past (Arkin and Dobrofsky Reference Arkin and Dobrofsky1978).Footnote 2
Adding to the perspectives on the subjectivation of soldiers, this article explores from an institutional perspective how military hierarchy was rebuilt and maintained following the breakdown of hierarchy due to the series of coups that shaped the Ghana Armed Forces during the second half of the twentieth century. At the beginning of the 1980s, the leadership of the Ghanaian military – especially the junta leaders of the Provisional National Defence Council (PNDC) under the leadership of Flight Lieutenant J. J. Rawlings – recognized that an ailing armed forces could be detrimental to their survival, and thus initiated an all-encompassing and ongoing transformation process informed by institutional measures aimed at resuscitating discipline and military hierarchical order after the breakdown of the everyday (de Certeau Reference de Certeau1984). I argue that, in order for the transformation process of the Ghana Armed Forces to be initiated, hierarchy had to be restored, continuously nurtured and maintained. In other words, the article not only illustrates a historical evolution but also demonstrates that the maintenance of order and hierarchy in a closed institution such as the military is an ongoing and continuous process. It is further claimed that the Ghana Armed Forces have been transformed into a closed institution that operates a strict hierarchical system based on rank and seniority. However, in the Ghanaian military, as in all social orders, there are constant negotiations over the meanings of rules. There are also negotiations over the circumstances in which codes of conduct and military conventions (such as hierarchy or saluting) can be tweaked or broken and who can do so. Finally, there are dialogues about how these codes of conduct and military conventions are established and play out in (soldierly) practice in everyday settings. In short, as in all total institutions, the transformation process in the Ghanaian barracks shows that military conventions, rules and behaviours must be constantly re-enacted and negotiated.
The article is structured as follows: the first section presents the factors contributing to the breakdown of discipline that led to the temporal collapse of hierarchy in the Ghanaian barracks. This is followed by an assessment of the role of the coups of 1979 and 1981, and also an examination of the part that the establishment of the Armed Forces Defence Committees in the barracks played in disrupting everydayness in the armed forces. The focus then shifts to measures initiated by military leaders, including the dramatic performance of hierarchy and authority, to restore hierarchy in the Ghanaian military barracks. The final part of the article examines the determinants of hierarchy in formal and informal settings and how hierarchy is expressed and lived in the current constellation.
The data presented in this article were obtained through long-term field investigation of the Ghana Armed Forces between December 2013 and January 2015. During the fourteen months of fieldwork, I interacted with over a hundred informants (of whom a fifth were womenFootnote 3) in countless informal conversations and recruited forty interview partners for in-depth engagement. The individual semi-structured interviews lasted between thirty minutes and an hour and a half; they were conducted with soldiers on duty in the barracks in their offices, under trees, in sheds or in their living quarters. Apart from serving personnel, I also engaged with retired officers and soldiers of all ranks, ranging from privates to generals. The retired officers and former non-commissioned officers (NCOs) were interviewed in their homes or at their new workplaces outside the barracks.
The respondents’ ages ranged from twenty-three to over seventy years. Respondents were selected through snowball sampling (Atkinson and Flint Reference Atkinson and Flint2001), which allowed me to establish trusted relationships with my informants in the ‘closed world’ (Wulff Reference Wulff and Amit2000: 148) of the Ghana Armed Forces. The contacted soldiers belonged to various units and services across the country as part of my multi-sited approach (Marcus Reference Marcus1995), which I conducted along the north–south divide that exists in the Ghana Armed Forces and in the different services (army, navy and air force).
The breakdown of discipline
The Ghana Armed Forces have a well-documented and murky past of coups coupled with societal unrest, violent excesses and human rights violations both within and outside the Ghanaian barracks (Hutchful Reference Hutchful1997; Oquaye Reference Oquaye2004; Nugent Reference Nugent1995). The last two coups in particular – of 1979 and 1981, led by Rawlings – led to unprecedented levels of political violence and bloodletting (Oquaye Reference Oquaye2004; Baynham Reference Baynham1994) while creating numerous challenges within the Ghanaian military barracks, including the breakdown of discipline, resulting in a temporal collapse of hierarchy.
The 1979 and 1981 coups
In the early hours of 4 June 1979, a mutiny of other ranks (ORs) of the Ghana Armed Forces was unfolding in Accra, Ghana's capital. The soldiers claimed that they were rebelling due to maltreatment at the hands of their superiors. The ORs further justified their actions stating that their working conditions were poor, while there was a complete communication breakdown between commanders and their men due to unhealthy working relations. Prior to this coup, on 15 May 1979, Rawlings – then a young officer – had attempted a military takeover and failed, and thus was facing a court martial (cf. Oquaye Reference Oquaye2004). For unclear reasons, he was given a public trial through which he managed to garner the support of other junior ranks and NCOs. During the 4 June coup, the ORs needed a leader and seized the opportunity to release Rawlings from his prison cell at the Bureau of National Investigation (BNI) in Accra. He was then transported to the national broadcaster, Ghana Broadcasting Corporation (GBC), to announce that he and his men had taken control of the country.Footnote 4 The Armed Forces Revolutionary Council (AFRC) was established, with the junta leadership comprising both junior officers and ORs (Oquaye Reference Oquaye2004: 2). My interlocutors point to two main factors that converged to contribute to the depreciation of hierarchy in the Ghanaian military barracks in this period. They argue that the establishment of the AFRC was the beginning of the breakdown of discipline. Second, my respondents note that the composition of the AFRC posed a problem as it meant that the country was in the hands of juniors, not only in government, but also in the military; this affected how the military operated, as its hierarchy was turned upside down.
In the ensuing chaos of the 1979 coup, senior officers were attacked and molested by ORs who unleashed vengeance on commanders whom they accused of lacking respect for junior ranks (Oquaye Reference Oquaye2004: 5). Further, as part of the so-called house-cleaning exercise, the mutineers executed former military heads of state and their collaborators, such as Lieutenant Generals Afrifa, Acheampong and Akuffo (cf. ibid.; Nugent Reference Nugent1995).
Although the AFRC abdicated power in September 1979 to the civilian government of Dr Hilla Limann, observers note that the junta left an unpleasant remnant in the barracks. The success of the mutiny and the ensuing AFRC rule had made the ‘lower ranks overly confident and swollen headed’.Footnote 5 The events of 1979 had given the junior ranks ‘the impression that they could easily organize a coup if the need arose’.Footnote 6 In addition, the events of the 1979 mutiny had left behind ‘a new modality of historical action’ (Furet Reference Furet and Nevill1988, cited in Das Reference Das1995) leading to the collapse of hierarchy in the Ghanaian military. Consequently, on the night of 31 December 1981, Rawlings and his cohorts once again orchestrated and executed the last successful coup in Ghana, overthrowing the democratically elected government of Limann (Nugent Reference Nugent1995; Oquaye Reference Oquaye2004).
In many ways, the events of the 1981 coup could be considered a continuation of the putsch of 1979. Once again, the coup generated chaos as ORs took control of some of the battalions; for example, in the Third Infantry Battalion in Sunyani, junior ranks molested or jailed officers in the guardrooms (Agyekum Reference Agyekum2019a). Further, junior ranks took advantage of the situation to settle scores, resulting in the assassination of two naval officers and the base coxswain at the Sekondi Naval Base in February 1982, in Ghana's Western region.
As well as attacking superiors, junior ranks refused to take orders from officers, refused to salute their superiors, as required by military codes of conduct, did not report for duty, and, when soldiers came to work, they were inappropriately dressed according to the military's dress code or were not wearing the required boots.Footnote 7 An interlocutor described the situation as follows:
Discipline had been debased. You could see that in how soldiers reacted to instructions and their assigned duties. People were not doing what they were supposed to be doing. Furthermore, their attitude towards officers – officers were given smart salutes instead of proper salutes. All in all, the soldiers’ response and respect for junior officers and their command was not the best. They were not completely disobedient, but also not completely obedient.Footnote 8
In other words, the military conventions were not being implemented and adhered to as they should have been. Junior ranks behaved contrary to military norms and values, thus devaluing the spirit and intention of the codes of conduct that guide actions and behaviour in the Ghanaian military barracks, thus resulting in the breakdown of hierarchy.
The Armed Forces Defence Committees
In the slipstream of the 31 December 1981 coup, the junior ranks quickly formed Defence Committees (later called Armed Forces Defence Committees or AFDCsFootnote 9) in the hope of regaining some of the political power and influence over national affairs that had been bestowed on them after the 1979 putsch (Oquaye Reference Oquaye2004: 225). More importantly, the soldiers wanted to ‘democratize’ what they considered a colonial and outdated military chain of command (ibid.). Soldiers’ demand for more authority was unworkable within and antithetical to the Ghanaian military's institutional logic (Thornton et al. Reference Thornton, Lounsbury, Ocasio, Thornton, Lounsbury and Ocasio2012: 2) as an archetypical hierarchical organization. An interlocutor observed that the formation of the AFDCs contributed to and facilitated the temporary breakdown of hierarchy in the Ghanaian barracks, because, although junior officers up to the rank of captain were allowed membership of the committees later, officers were initially excluded (Oquaye Reference Oquaye2004: 226). The initial exclusion of officers made senior officers the target of violent attacks by AFDC members.Footnote 10 ‘The immediate reaction of the AFDCs, and particularly the extremist wing, was to turn against officers’ (ibid.). The violence generated fear and anxiety within the barracks; officers of the rank of major and above feared liquidation, resulting in some leaving the military altogether, while others refrained from disciplining soldiers or insisting on the functioning of the command structure or military hierarchy. The formation of the AFDCs was thus an important catalyst for the depreciation of discipline and the temporary breakdown of hierarchy in the barracks in the second half of the twentieth century. The country's leadership could not afford to allow the situation to fester, and so they were compelled to act.
The restoration of hierarchy in the Ghana Armed Forces
Following the coups of 1979 and 1981, the Ghanaian military system was in urgent need of repair. The murders at the Sekondi Naval Base, in particular, pointed to ailing military institutional structures. The politicization of the Ghana Armed Forces in the course of subsequent military coups (especially the military junta of the PNDC in 1981–91) not only brought to the fore breaches of the Ghana Armed Forces Regulations but also distorted relations within the military due to the support and inclusion of junior ranks in the regime. Since the PNDC depended on the ORs for its power, it was initially reluctant to criticize abusive and unmilitary behaviour for fear of offending its powerbase. However, after the events in Sekondi, this position became untenable, thus prompting a change of attitude within the regime.
To save the Ghana Armed Forces from imploding (Oquaye Reference Oquaye2004: 229), the PNDC tasked General Arnold Quainoo as Force Commander to restore the institutional structures, military conventions and discipline in the military (cf. Nugent Reference Nugent1995: 122).Footnote 11 General Quainoo, whose vigorous management style earned him the nicknames ‘Buffalo Soldier’ and ‘Idi Amin’ (ibid.: 12), took a number of drastic measures, such as banning groups affiliated to the junta from the barracks and the AFDCs, overhauling the military judicial system, reinstalling the command structure, and introducing the monthly unit durbar as a forum for junior officers and ORs to seek and receive information from high command and express their grievances. He also staged performances of hierarchy in barracks across the country and appealed to soldiers’ soldierly values in his effort to restore military hierarchy (Nugent Reference Nugent1995; Hutchful Reference Hutchful1997; Oquaye Reference Oquaye2004; Agyekum Reference Agyekum2019a).
After stabilizing the ailing military, the PNDC junta replaced Quainoo in 1987 with General Winston Martin Mensah-Wood (Hutchful Reference Hutchful1997: 260). The new leader oversaw a number of measures, including the creation of the office of the Force Sergeant Major (FSM), the representative of ORs in the Armed Forces Council, the governing body of the Ghanaian military. General Mensah-Wood also changed the conditions for enrolment into the Ghanaian military, such as minimum educational requirements, and trained new arrivals in the spirit of the soldierly values the military seeks to impart to its personnel.
At the beginning of the 1980s, the majority of the OR corps comprised semiliterate and illiterate soldiers, but also soldiers recruited into the military at the tail end of colonialism. The majority of illiterate soldiers who served in the British colonial army in present-day Ghana were from the deprived and poor Northern Territories (Aboagye Reference Aboagye1999). Military service therefore represented a step up the social ladder and endowed respect in the soldier's homestead (Addae Reference Addae2005). However, although elsewhere in Africa colonial army veterans were highly regarded, the opposite was the case in Ghana. In garrison towns, colonial soldiers were feared for their appetite for violence, their harassment of women, and their regular clashes with the civilian population (Baynham Reference Baynham1994). Further, colonial soldiers were deemed ill-disciplined as a result of their willingness to participate in all the successful coups that have occurred in the country (Agyekum Reference Agyekum2019b). With colonial soldiers among its rank and file, the Ghanaian military's already ailing public image was suffering even more, and so there was every reason to clear the ranks of these soldiers. This coincided with the transformation process in the Ghanaian barracks. In the General's effort to restore institutional structures and resuscitate military conventions and discipline, he established a board that published a report in which the following was stated:
The ever-improving sophistication of modern weapons and equipment, their application and usage will definitely demand troops with higher educational qualifications. Opportunity should therefore be given to troops to broaden their education.Footnote 12
The effect of this new policy direction was that entry into the Ghanaian military was cut off for illiterate and semiliterate candidates as they did not meet the minimum education requirements, apart from new recruits needing the ability to operate sophisticated modern weapons and equipment. Currently, for instance, for an OR to enrol in the Ghana Armed Forces, she or he must possess a secondary school certificate; for enlistment into the officer corps, a minimum of a bachelor's degree is required. The new policy also enabled the Ghana Armed Forces to make a clean break with its colonial past, at least in terms of personnel. The soldiers recruited prior to independence were gradually retired from military service.
The quest to recruit educated personnel, according to my interlocutors, enabled the military to train its new military subjects in the spirit of the soldierly values that the Ghana Armed Forces sought to instil. The military reasoned that educated recruits would have a better grasp of the values being preached and of their tasks as soldiers. The performance of African militaries is generally graded as under par by scholars, with forces populated by young lumpenproletariat (Abdullah Reference Abdullah1998; Hoffman Reference Hoffman2006) who are not only violent but also unwilling to obey orders. In Ghana, during the breakdown of hierarchy, the rank and file soldiers refused to take orders from their superiors. However, in the current Ghana Armed Forces, due to the transformation process initiated at the beginning of the 1980s in the barracks, new recruits are trained in the spirit of this new direction. In line with new training doctrines and expectations of the current crop of soldiers, disobeying orders and using excessive violence go against the spirit of the new direction and are not expected from professional, educated military personnel. Moreover, the recruitment of educated military personnel with the ability to safely and effectively operate modern instruments of violence (First Reference First1970: 6) has resulted in (higher) education certificates from tertiary institutions becoming the norm in Ghanaian military barracks (Agyekum Reference Agyekum2019a). In short, the case of the Ghana Armed Forces contradicts two long-standing truisms about African militaries: that their ranks are generally staffed with ill-disciplined and violent youth who are unwilling to take orders from superiors; and that colonial army veterans were highly regarded. Based on the Ghanaian example, it is perhaps time for us to rethink the old clichés and truisms about African militaries.
Seniority as an element of hierarchy
To resuscitate the Ghanaian military from complete collapse, the PNDC tasked Quainoo and Mensah-Wood to restore hierarchy. Dumont's conceptualization focuses on hierarchy as a social constellation that includes values such as loyalty, respect for rank, respect for authority, discipline and integrity (Dumont Reference Dumont and Weidenfeld1970). In short, values are essential and central to hierarchy (ibid.). Adopting this approach allows us to move beyond understanding the term as ‘bureaucratic structure’ (Soeters et al. Reference Soeters, Winslow, Weibull and Caforio2006; Janowitz and Little Reference Janowitz, Little, Janowitz and Little1974: 43). An important element of the hierarchical organization of the Ghanaian military is seniority, while date of enlistment, promotions, office (for example, commanding officer (CO) or regimental sergeant major (RSM)) and rank are intertwined and converge to produce hierarchy in the barracks.
Seniority is a social mechanism that regulates social relations regarding an individual's affiliation with – in this case – the military (Gamst Reference Gamst2001: 21; Bascom Reference Bascom1942: 37). Seniority in the Ghanaian barracks is associated with authority, privileges, prestige and responsibilities. For instance, when there are opportunities for travel abroad, opportunities that are prestigious and limited to a select group, the senior officers will be considered first. Seniority is also a tool for producing hierarchy because it orders and arranges soldiers in a particular order. Seniority also has to do with responsibility: ‘When there are dirty jobs to be done, juniors do them.’Footnote 13 However, when there is a problem in the office or something goes wrong on a mission, senior staff will be held responsible for failure of leadership.
Due to the relatively small size of the Ghana Armed Forces (between 15,000 and 23,000 operatives), all my interlocutors know exactly who their superiors and subordinates are, based on their regimental numbers; the same is true for their subordinates. Unlike the rank insignia, which is visible to everyone, the regimental number is invisible to the outsider. An interlocutor noted that, if there were to be a roll call at the barracks on the parade square, every soldier would know exactly where to stand. Every soldier has a regimental number by which he or she is identified;Footnote 14 this is one of the components that determines their seniority and position in the hierarchical arrangement, but also a key regulator of peer relations, as soldiers know who has the lowest regimental number.Footnote 15
Ranking and appointments are determining elements in a soldier's seniority, but they can also disrupt the arrangement of seniority in a unit.Footnote 16 Assume that there are four warrant officers in the regiment, who were recruited and graduated from training on the same day, and the military is looking to appoint a new unit RSM. These peers end up competing with each other for the post. Since there can be only one RSM in the unit, after a thorough selection process, the most junior among the four is elected to be the RSM. The person who is the most junior in the peer group based on regimental number becomes the most senior through his appointment as RSM, which means that his peers have to take orders from him because he has been promoted to the higher rank of senior warrant officer.Footnote 17
The situation is slightly different for officers. In the past, officers could enlist with secondary school certificates. In a case in which another cadet joins with a university degree, the person who entered with a secondary school certificate would become a second lieutenant, while the graduate would pass out as a lieutenant, thus assuming seniorityFootnote 18 over their mates due to the higher rank based on their qualification.Footnote 19 Furthermore, there are officers who are commissioned captains due to their professional or technical knowledge – for example, lawyers, doctors and architects – as they assume seniority over most of their peers and others who are commissioned second lieutenants and lieutenants with no specific technical knowledge or skills.
Another configuration could be that an officer loses their seniority through disciplinary action taken against them by the military. Officers cannot be stripped of their ranks, but they can lose their seniority. Their punishment could be the loss of anywhere between six months to two years of seniority, depending on the gravity of the offence committed. In practice, that would mean that, up to the rank of lieutenant colonel, the punished officer would always be promoted later than their peers, thus affecting their position in the hierarchical setting of the military.
An officer can also temporarily lose seniority if they continuously fail their promotion examinations,Footnote 20 for example from lieutenant to captain. Their peers temporarily become their seniors because they have a higher rank. However, the moment the officer passes their exams within the designated opportunities and is promoted to captain, their seniority is backdatedFootnote 21 and so they regain their place in the hierarchy. Accordingly, officers can also permanently lose seniority. This could happen, for instance, if an officer exhausts the number of opportunities available to pass their promotion examination. In the Ghanaian context, the officer is promoted automatically from second lieutenant to lieutenant after a year and a half of military service. However, in order to be promoted from lieutenant to captain, they have to sit promotion examinations. Currently, a lieutenant and a captain have five and four chances respectively to pass the exams. It is important to note, however, that should a lieutenant pass their exams only on their fifth and final attempt, they lose their seniority permanently.Footnote 22
There are situations among officers in which rank is not the determinant of seniority and hierarchy; rather, it is the officer's expertise that determines who is in charge. For instance, in the operating theatre, the surgeon may have the rank of captain and the head nurse may be a lieutenant colonel, but the military assumes that the surgeon's task and responsibilities are greater than those of the head nurse. Thus, in this setting, the captain takes leadership over the lieutenant colonel, because the captain is in charge of the operating theatre. Others, including the head nurse, are there to ‘assist him/her to perform his/her duties optimally’.Footnote 23
Finally, the Armed Forces Regulations of 1962 state that an officer always takes seniority over the OR. The military and Ghanaian society more widely share the fundamental feature of hierarchical structure. In both of these authoritative systems, a person considered a junior in terms of seniority or social status must obey a person considered to be senior or superior in the societal hierarchy (Nukunya Reference Nukunya2003). These parallels inform and intersect with but also clash with the values at play in the barracks. In the words of a young officer: ‘In the civilian world an older man would take decisions for me, but in the military the older man is my subordinate and he has to wait for me to give him orders. That is what the military says.’Footnote 24 Put differently, the military hierarchy's disconnect from biological age contradicts the hierarchical arrangement within kinship and other social networks in the Ghanaian cultural context, as exemplified in the following quote:
In our society, young people have to listen to older people. They have to obey and show them respect. However, in the military things are a bit different. The officer, because of the powers vested in him through his commission, he can be very young, but we the ORs have to obey him. It is sometimes difficult and painful, but that is how it is. In our society, he will not have the authority to speak to, say, a WO [warrant officer] who is fifty years old, but in the military there are other rules. The officer, young or old, he has to be obeyed by the ORs, period! Otherwise, the OR can be taken on.Footnote 25
On the work floor, seniority also generates tensions between officers, men and women. During my fieldwork, some senior non-commissioned officers (SNCOs) complained bitterly about taking orders from especially young officers. This is particularly prevalent with SNCOs who have served for more than fifteen years. This category of soldiers expressed difficulties in taking orders from a lieutenant and, in some cases, even from a captain. The OR informants argued that these officers entered the military system only recently and are yet to learn the military trade, and so are less experienced than the SNCOs. That is why they believe ‘young officers have no business giving SNCOs orders’.Footnote 26 However, refusing an order from a young officer is not an option for the SNCOs.
In the field, I also witnessed an occasion when a young lieutenant tasked an SNCO with organizing men and women to tidy up the regiment's surroundings before the close of day. Although the SNCO responded affirmatively, by the end of the day, the assignment had still not been undertaken – nor had it been accomplished by the end of the second day. In the words of my interlocutors, the SNCO was ‘playing delay tactics or lasie lasie’.Footnote 27 The SNCO dragging his feet in executing the task was a sign of resistance. The SNCO could not categorically refuse an order issued by an officer for fear of punishment, but by delaying its execution, he signalled to the lieutenant that he was unwilling to carry out the given order. In such circumstances, the officer has the following options: warn or punish the man for not executing an order, force him to do so, or ask someone else to execute the order. In this case, the officer opted to task another SNCO with executing the order.
However, in this case, the SNCO's behaviour could have resulted in major difficulties for him. It turned out that the unit's CO had been informed about the impending visit of an important senior officer to the regiment in two days’ time. The CO had thus ordered the lieutenant to task the SNCO with organizing the tidying up for the reception of the senior officer. This situation also explains why, despite SNCOs’ misgivings about receiving orders from junior officers, they are reluctant to refuse them. My interlocutors noted: ‘You never know who issued the original order. If you refuse, you might be refusing an order from an entity far higher than the officer who issued it. You need to be careful with these things.’Footnote 28 Seniority arrangements in which officers automatically take precedence over ORs generate tensions between officers – both men and women – especially when the officer issuing the orders is younger than the soldier receiving it. This clashes with Ghanaian cultural arrangements in which young people are considered juniors, and therefore have to listen to their elders. At the same time, SNCOs are careful about refusing orders due to the potential problems this could generate for them.Footnote 29
In sum, the role of seniority in determining hierarchy may lead to tensions within the barracks. However, seniority is important to the Ghanaian military as it determines the position of every soldier in a hierarchical arrangement. Hierarchy in the barracks is an arrangement that only works when all the factors, such as seniority, that determine it are in place and are adhered to by those who experience it.
Performances of hierarchy
Despite the clear rules that position soldiers in a hierarchical order, when General Quainoo took on the task of reinstating hierarchy, he asserted: ‘I was aware that we had to perform [hierarchy]. The optics are important for soldiers to see.’Footnote 30 Jaffe (Reference Jaffe1984: 32) notes that the idea of performance is at the very heart of any consideration of the military, which invests a lot of time and attention in ceremonies, rituals, imagery and the staging of hierarchy and authority, because the nature of military life is such that most acts are public and dramatic (ibid.: 33). Similarly, after its collapse, the dramatic and visible performance of hierarchy became extremely important, as this influenced soldiers’ behaviour. An interlocutor recounted that, to influence soldiers’ behaviour, at every unit General Quainoo visited during this period he asked the CO to organize a meeting with officers, men and women. At these gatherings a performance of military hierarchy and authority was staged by the General and the officers present.
The General, my informants asserted, surrounded by officers, dramatically performed the hierarchy and authority he expected to see implemented in the various battalions and regiments. He and the officers at the regiment then positioned themselves in front of the men and women, while the General addressed them all. According to my interlocutors, General Quainoo, in his speeches, appealed to the soldiers’ values as instilled in them at the Recruit Training Centre and at the Ghana Military Academy, emphasizing that a soldier operates in a hierarchical environment, under the authority of a superior, lives by rules and respects the rank. The General asserted that soldiers who stopped operating according to these values ceased to be soldiers; they became rebels.Footnote 31 He vowed not to allow a military under his command to turn into a collection of rebels.Footnote 32 In short, dramatic performances of hierarchy and reminders that the military operates according to soldierly values have again become part of Ghanaian soldiers’ everyday practice.
Hierarchy at a military durbar
The following excerpt from my fieldwork diary illustrates the dramatic performance of hierarchy and authority at a durbar at the Armoured Reconnaissance Regiment.Footnote 33 The excerpt also shows the current reproduction of soldierly values in the Ghanaian military barracks.
It is a sunny morning at Gondar Barracks. The heart of the regiment, Abugah Square, is clean. The white armoured vehicles with the United Nations logo (because the vehicles are used for UN peacekeeping missions) are neatly parked next to each other. On the right side of the square are the volleyball and basketball pitches, which are located behind the guardroom. At the opposite end are two sheds. The durbar is held under the Sabre Shed. Most of the ORs are already present at the venue. Some are seated, loitering with their mobile phones, while others are chatting with their colleagues. There is excitement in the air as soldiers at the durbar expect to get answers to burning questions. It is about half an hour to the meeting when a warrant officer class II Y, with a pace stick tightly stuck under his armpit, uniform firmly starched, clean shaven and boots shining like a mirror, draws the attention of the soldiers present. He shouts slogans and the unit's greetings. He shouts ‘Ahooooo!’ and the men and women respond ‘Ahoyaya!’ He gives it another go: ‘Ahooooo!’ They respond ‘Ahoyaya!’ He continues with ‘Irons!’ and the men and women respond ‘Fear naught!’
He stands at attention and asks all soldiers who are not ‘warranted’Footnote 34 to take a seat. Every soldier sits where he is supposed to sit. The arrangement of the seating is clearly structured: warrant officers on the front row, followed by staff sergeants, sergeants, corporals, lance corporals and troopers.Footnote 35 After the soldiers have taken their seats, the warrant officer commands them: ‘Sit up! Sit easy! Sit up! Sit easy!’ That is done a couple of times. This is an exercise, I am told, to exert authority over the men and women and prepare them mentally for the meeting with the unit leader. Furthermore, he takes them through what is considered proper behaviour at a durbar. For example, before the soldier asks a question to the commander rear,Footnote 36 she or he must put on their beret, salute, say the greeting ‘Irons, sir!’, then list their regimental number, rank and name before proceeding to ask the question. After asking the question, the soldier must salute before sitting down.
Prior to the arrival of the commander rear, the RSM comes to the meeting venue to check whether his men and women are prepared and ready for the occasion. The moment the RSM arrives at the venue, all the soldiers stand up in acknowledgement of his authority. After a quick exchange of salutes, the RSM turns his attention to warrant officer class II Y. He takes over from him and instructs the men and women to recite the ‘National Pledge’.Footnote 37 Not long after the pledge, the officers of the unit arrive just before the commander rear at the durbar. All the soldiers stand up to salute them. The captain, the most senior officer commanding (OC), takes over from the RSM. The OC hands over the proceedings to the commander rear. The officers face each other and exchange salutes. The OC informs him that the men and women are ready for the meeting; the commander rear takes over from him and asks the men and women to sit. The officers are seated in front of the men and women: that is, facing the troops.
The commander rear, a major, is seated in the middle, with the adjutant (a lieutenant), who is taking notes, to his left and the two other officers (a captain and a lieutenant) to his right. The durbar opens with correspondence from the General Headquarters (on unwarranted behaviour) and continues with matters concerning the regiment's expectation of disciplinary standards. After half an hour, the commander rear steps back. The RSM stands up, puts on his beret, places his pace stick firmly under his armpit, and salutes the leader. He then opens the floor for comments, questions and observations. The soldiers with questions follow the script of the performance as prescribed by the warrant officer before the arrival of the commander rear. There are many questions concerning soldiers’ welfare, such as water supply and rubbish collections at their residences. After an hour, the commander rear leaves for another meeting at the General Headquarters. However, before he leaves another performance ensues. He stands up and puts on his headgear. The moment he gets up, all his men and women also stand up and put on their berets. The major moves away from behind his desk to stand face to face with the officer next in line, the OC of 1 Recce Squadron, a squadron within the regiment. The officers exchange salutes and the commander rear hands over the meeting to him. After the handing over performance, the OC seeks permission to ‘Carry on, sir!’ The commander rear grants permission and leaves for his next appointment. Half an hour after the commander rear's departure, the captain signals to the RSM that it is time to close the meeting. The officer and the RSM stand facing each other, exchange compliments, and the officer hands over to the RSM. The RSM asks for permission to ‘Carry on’. The permission is granted and all the officers leave the meeting. Not long after that, the RSM instructs his men and women to disperse.
This excerpt illustrates how hierarchy and authority are performed in the barracks as part of soldiers’ working life. The RSM, who is much older than the commander, displays the values and behaviour expected from soldiers to their superiors and officers in his dealings with his superiors. The RSM leads by example by exhibiting the expected behaviour in accordance with military etiquette and values. The RSM's leading behaviour is to be followed by his subordinates, therefore (re)producing military hierarchy.
The excerpt also shows how the continual reproduction of hierarchy is not automatic but requires significant effort. Prior to the performance at the durbar, the setting has to be prepared so as not to generate any confusion. The chairs are arranged hierarchically, with higher-ranking soldiers in front and lower-ranking ones gradually moving to the back. Their leaders – the officers – are seated opposite the men and women. After this arrangement, which sets the stage for the performance of hierarchy and authority, the soldiers are instructed on the script to be followed for the dramatic performance. Soldiers are instructed on how to behave in the presence of their commander, on the procedure to follow when asking a question, and on how to behave after the question has been asked. These are not only behavioural prescriptions but also reminders of the soldiers’ place in the hierarchal setting. These prescriptions set out the kind of behaviour and etiquette that is expected of a soldier by her or his superiors, and also what a soldier can expect from her or his subordinates. If all soldiers follow the prescribed script, not only is hierarchy and authority in the barracks established and reproduced, but also the everyday character of hierarchy and authority is reinforced (de Certeau Reference de Certeau1984).Footnote 38
Hierarchy at West African Soldiers Social Activity
The military as a total institution operates according to its specific institutional logic, which implies military conventions such as hierarchy (Goffman Reference Goffman1961; Thornton et al. Reference Thornton, Lounsbury, Ocasio, Thornton, Lounsbury and Ocasio2012: 2). This also means that soldiers must be mindful that hierarchy is everywhere within and outside the barracks, and also in every activity in which they participate – even on festive occasions when the lines between formal and informal behaviour are often blurred.
At the 2014 West African Soldiers Social Activity (WASSA) (Aboagye Reference Aboagye1999: 63), an annual military get-together for officers, men and women, civilian employees and their families at the General Headquarters of the Ghana Armed Forces, an interlocutor drew my attention to the arrangements of the festive surroundings. ‘If you look around, you see that monkeys play by sizes.’Footnote 39 My informant employed this image when he assured me that – as in the world of monkeys and apes, where only animals of similar sizes interact with each other while the rest stay away from the leaders and the stronger animals – the military and its hierarchical organization operate in similar ways. The event illustrated how military hierarchy in the barracks is always present, even at a supposed festive gathering such as the WASSA, where soldiers are supposed to enjoy themselves and feel ‘free’.
With a quick look round the festive ground, one could observe that the square had been arranged in a hierarchical fashion, with rank in mind. Dearborn Spindler (Reference Dearborn Spindler1949: 85) asserts that military hierarchy is ‘sustained by complicated social ritual and clearly defined social distance’. Around the square, not only had the colourful yellow, red, blue and green canopies been arranged according to the various directorates (such as legal, education, etc.) and services (army, navy and air force), but the arrangement of chairs under the canopies also followed a particular order. The sofas on the first three rows were stuffed and comfortable. Behind them, less comfortable chairs were eventually substituted by rows of plastic chairs. The director generals (who are brigadier generals) were seated on the comfortable sofas, sometimes accompanied by their guests of honour or their seconds in command (2iCs/directors/deputies), who were colonels. Around the director generals were seated their staff, who were also arranged hierarchically from officers to ORs. At the edge of the middle of the square was the high table, where were seated the dignitaries – the Minister for Defence, Chief of Defence Staff (CDS) of the Ghana Armed Forces, Chief of Army Staff (COAS), Chief of Naval Staff (CNS), Chief of Air Staff (CAS), Inspector General of Police (IGP), and heads of various security organs. From this position, the dignitaries had an almost panoramic view of the various commanders and other subordinates of the CDS.Footnote 40 At the same time, the high table was positioned so that everyone could see what was going on at it. One of the reasons for that, according to an informant, was that no subordinate could start eating or drinking (at least not openly) before the CDS and his guests had toasted and started eating and drinking themselves. Equally, after the official programme, with speeches from the Chief of Staff and the Minister for Defence, the CDS, the IGP and the minister went ‘to open the dance floor’, accompanied by female naval officers they had invited from the various directorates ‘to support them’.Footnote 41 An informant, a mid-career officer, informed me that when the members of the high table had started the dancing, others could join in. However, during this particular festive gathering, soldiers went onto the dance floor only after the ‘big men’ had left.
The expression of hierarchy in the physical arrangement of the seating also led soldiers to behave in a particular way towards their superiors. The senior officers seated on the front rows were served food and drinks by their staff. However, this service was provided with the utmost caution so as not to make a mistake or draw attention to oneself. It seemed that the personnel hid behind their leaders, as all the attention was channelled towards the senior officers. Soldiers are aware that, on such an occasion, their actions are monitored closely not only by their superiors but also by the world outside the barracks. The presence of the Minister for Defence, for instance, attracts media presence and attention. Soldiers try not to attract any negative attention that could affect them personally or the military. Generally, misbehaviour at events where senior officers and dignitaries are present is dangerous in hierarchical terms for the soldier because it is visible to everyone, including one's superiors.
On a higher level, there is more pressure because misbehaviour could reflect negatively on the military institution. In the words of an informant: ‘A soldier must always compose himself, also during social events. He needs to protect his rank and the dignity of the [Ghana] Armed Forces.’Footnote 42 While soldiers at WASSA are supposed to make merry, they must operate in a small space of very tightly orchestrated hierarchical codes that are feverishly monitored by the military and reproduced, especially in the presence of big men. Should a soldier misbehave, they would ‘be dealt with severely’.Footnote 43 A soldier attending gatherings such as WASSA exposes himself or herself to many behavioural pitfalls, as any possible misbehaviour would be observed not only internally but also externally by the wider Ghanaian society due to the presence of the media. Hence, soldiers at such events are strictly monitored by colleagues, SNCOs or the Military Police, or even by officers, so that, if the need arises, the person misbehaving can be removed from the sight of the big men or be corrected before their actions escalate. In this way, behaviour deemed proper by the military is enforced and hierarchy is enhanced and maintained.
Although the WASSA is a specifically military event, it gives us a glimpse into the ways in which hierarchy is lived, expressed and even performed in the barracks. As shown in the ethnography, the arrangement of the seating and even the physical elevation of the high table express the values ascribed to certain persons and their positions in the military. Additionally, the fact that some people are referred to as guests of honour and dignitaries again indicates the importance attached to certain people within the hierarchical setting. The emphasis on controlling the behaviour of soldiers at such events further demonstrates the importance of hierarchy to the Ghanaian military establishment, and also how far it will go to protect itself from damage. In short, hierarchy needs to be preserved not only for those in the barracks but also, due to the presence of the media at the event, for the general Ghanaian public.
Conclusion
Hierarchy is considered a matter of order and subordination, and militaries, including the Ghana Armed Forces, operate according to the principle of a pyramid and a top-down circulation of control and information (Pumain Reference Pumain and Pumain2006: 3–5). In the Ghanaian military, command and authority are associated with a ‘control hierarchy’ as entities with a specified rank are entitled to give orders to those with lower ranks (Lane Reference Lane and Pumain2006: 85). However, during the temporary breakdown of hierarchy in the Ghanaian barracks, the pyramidical hierarchical arrangement was upended; junior ranks and NCOs did not take orders from their superiors, as soldiers are instructed to do in their training and socialization. This resulted in the Ghana Armed Forces being in dire straits and in need of intervention. This article set out to examine from an institutional perspective how military hierarchy was rebuilt and maintained following the temporary breakdown of hierarchy in the Ghanaian barracks.
Many scholars of the military have asserted that soldiers at various levels are under the command, control and supervision of their superior, while the management and evaluation of a hierarchical military system are the responsibility of a select few – that is, the officer corps (Huntington Reference Huntington1957; Janowitz Reference Janowitz1960; Janowitz and Little Reference Janowitz, Little, Janowitz and Little1974). Yet, hierarchy is not an automatism but a lived practice within the bounded parameters of the military institution and the barracks. Hierarchy, here, has been shown to originate in the chain of command, but with an emphasis on a set of values that the soldier learns and expresses through actions and behaviour. To reinstate hierarchy, the Ghanaian military leaders not only had to dramatically perform hierarchy but also had to appeal to soldierly values. These interventions were instrumental in bringing hierarchy to life as soldiers were reminded that they lived by rules and under the authority of superiors, and that they respected the rank. Put differently, for Ghanaian soldiers to be convinced to re-embrace hierarchy, the military had to appeal to their soldierly values but also dramatically perform hierarchy and authority. Through the dramatic performance of hierarchy, the soldier is reminded not only of what is expected of him or her but also of where they stand in the hierarchical pecking order. At the same time, the Ghanaian military leadership understands that hierarchy and authority require constant reproduction for values and the chain of command to become one and the same for soldiers.
Finally, the Ghana Armed Forces’ case could serve as a point of departure for future approaches to studying African militaries that will generate new insights into how they operate and are composed and into everyday soldiering practices in various African countries and contexts. Further, future studies should acknowledge that African militaries are institutions with challenging, complex and fragile social orders within which there are constant negotiations about hierarchy, rules and regulations. This foundation could lead to new insights that could inspire a rethink or a revision of our perspectives on African military institutions as sources of societal unrest, while debunking the old clichés and truisms of African forces as lacking discipline and professionalism and being violent.
