Peacebuilding and Ex-Combatants

Peacebuilding and Ex-Combatants
This book examines how ex-combatants in post-war and peacebuilding settings

engage in politics, as seen in the case of Liberia.
The political mobilization of former combatants after war is often perceived
as a threat, ultimately undermining the security and stability of the state. This
book questions this simplified view and argues that understanding the political
voice of former combatants is imperative. Their post-war role is not black and
white: they are not just bad or good citizens, but rather engage in multiple politi-
cal roles: spoilers, victims, disengaged, beneficiaries, as well as motivated and
active citizens.
By looking at the political attitudes and values of former combatants, and their
understanding of how politics functions, the book sheds new light on the political
reintegration of ex-combatants. It argues that political reintegration needs to be
given serious attention at the micro-level, but also needs to be scrutinized in two
ways: first, through the level of political involvement, which reflects the extent
and width of the ex-combatants’ voice. Second, in order to make sense of politi-
cal reintegration, we also need to uncover what values and norms inform their
political involvement. The content of their political voice is captured through a
comparison with democratic ideals. Based on interviews with over 100 Liberian
ex-combatants, the book highlights that their relationship with politics overall
should be characterized as an expression of a ‘politics of affection’.
This book will be of much interest to students of peacebuilding, African
politics, democratization, political sociology, conflict resolution and IR/Security
Studies in general.
Johanna Söderström is a postdoctoral researcher at the Department of Government,

Uppsala University, Sweden and has a PhD in Political Science.
Studies in Conflict, Development and Peacebuilding
Series Editors: Keith Krause, Thomas J. Biersteker and Riccardo
Bocco, Graduate Institute of International and Development
Studies, Geneva
This series publishes innovative research into the connections between insecu-
rity and under-development in fragile states, and into situations of violence and
insecurity more generally. It adopts a multidisciplinary approach to the study of a
variety of issues, including the changing nature of contemporary armed violence
(conflict), efforts to foster the conditions that prevent the outbreak or recurrence
of such violence (development), and strategies to promote peaceful relations on
the communal, societal and international level (peacebuilding).
The Political Economy of Stabilization Operations, Security

Peacemaking and Development
Achim Wennmann States of fragility
Edited by Robert Muggah
The Peace in Between
Post-war violence and peacebuilding Controlling Small Arms
Edited by Mats Berdal and Astri Suhrke Consolidation, innovation
and relevance in research
Local and Global Dynamics of and policy
Peacebuilding Edited by Peter Batchelor and Kai
Postconflict reconstruction in Sierra Michael Kenkel
Leone
Christine Cubitt An Ethnographic Approach to
Peacebuilding, Memory and Peacebuilding
Reconciliation Understanding local experiences in
Bridging top-down and bottom-up transitional states
approaches Gearoid Millar
Bruno Charbonneau and Geneviève
Parent Peacebuilding and
Ex-Combatants
Peacebuilding and Local Ownership Political reintegration
Post-conflict consensus-building in Liberia
Timothy Donais Johanna Söderström
Peacebuilding and
Ex-Combatants
Political reintegration in Liberia
Johanna Söderström
First published 2015
by Routledge
2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN
and by Routledge
711 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10017
Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business
© 2015 Johanna Söderström
The right of Johanna Söderström to be identified as author of this work has
been asserted by her in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright,
Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or
utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now
known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in
any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing
from the publishers.
Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or
registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation
without intent to infringe.
British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Söderström, Johanna, author.
Peacebuilding and ex-combatants: political reintegration in Liberia /
Johanna Söderström.
pages cm.—(Studies in conflict, development and peacebuilding)
1. Peace-building—Liberia. 2. Conflict management—Liberia. 3. Liberia—
Armed Forces—Demobilization—Social aspects. 4. Liberia—Politics and
government—1980– I. Title. II. Series: Studies in conflict, development and
peacebuilding.
JZ5584.L43S63 2015
303.64096662—dc23
2014025679
ISBN: 978–1–138–79148–0 (hbk)

ISBN: 978–1–315–76280–7 (ebk)
Typeset in Times
by Book Now Ltd, London
‘One of the great challenges of peacebuilding is to encourage ex-combatants to
demobilize and engage constructively in civilian politics. Johanna Söderström’s
book provides an empirically rich and penetrating investigation of these essential
issues and represents an important addition to our understanding of politics after
civil war. Embedding her argument at the nexus of the literature on democratiza-
tion and conflict resolution and at the micro level of analysis, she traces how
political reintegration of ex-combatants will shape both the scope and content of
their participation in post-conflict politics.’ – Terrence Lyons, George Mason
University, USA
‘The political mobilization of former combatants is often perceived as a threat,

ultimately undermining the security and stability of the state. Their post-war
role is complex and should be considered beyond a mere binary of bad or good
citizenship. There is a huge need to recognize former combatants’ engagement
in multiple political roles: spoilers, victims, disengaged, beneficiaries, as well
as motivated and active citizens. Söderström has provided a valuable service in
addressing these issues in her timely and path-breaking study in the context of
Liberia and practitioners and scholars alike will find this book with keen practi-
cal and conceptual insights into the challenges of political reintegration of former
combatants.’ – Alpaslan Ozerdem, Coventry University, UK
‘Rebel soldiering is partially a political activity. However in the aftermath of

civil wars ex-combatants are often treated as non-political individuals. Indeed
the international community entices rebel movements to create political parties
to cater for the political/military elite of these movements. Despite commonplace
failure and political marginality of such parties most research on political reinte-
gration of ex-combatants limit their analysis to this. But in this book Söderström
takes us further. By focusing on political choices of individual ex-combatants
rather than the imagined collectivity of larger movements she opens up an impor-
tant new field of research. Furthermore research focus on ex-combatants post-war
political participation has been limited to direct political party activities but in this
book Söderström looks at all forms of political activities. This is laudable and the
book ought to be a mandatory read to scholars interested in post-war politics in
general and specifically for us with a Liberia interest.’ – Mats Utas, the Nordic
Africa Institute, Sweden
‘Söderström’s work moves beyond familiar discussions of patrimonialism and

threat to situate Liberian ex-combatants as moral actors and thoughtful decision
makers. Arguing that former fighters see their options for participation within a
framework of a politics of affection, she uses ethnographically rich interview data
as well as Afrobarometer statistics to expand our understanding of post-conflict
reintegration, democratization, and political voice. This is a major addition to
the literature on Liberia and peacemaking in general.’ – Mary Moran, Colgate
University, USA
‘Traditionally, survey research has been by far the most common method for
studying political participation. To study the challenging situation of post-war
combatants in Liberia, Johanna Söderström moves in a different direction by using
a series of focus groups to investigate their views about political participation
after a decades long civil war. By summarizing 18 groups with 101 participants,
this qualitative data produces insights into the views of non-elite fighters on such
topics as voting, public protest, and joining larger political movements. Overall,
Söderström creates an unusual opportunity to hear the voices of former combat-
ants as they face the realities of reintegration.’ – David L. Morgan, Portland
State University, USA
Contents
List of tables ix
Acknowledgements xi
List of abbreviations xiii
1 Political reintegration after war 1
2 The case and methodology 29
3 Political involvement 55
4 Expressed antagonism 82
5 Tolerance of dissent 114
6 Inclusion in the political community 132
7 Understanding and explaining the politics of

ex-combatants 157
Appendices 175
Aâ•…Interviewsâ•‡ 175
Bâ•… Afrobarometer data – political involvementâ•‡ 179
Câ•… Afrobarometer data – antagonismâ•‡ 181
Dâ•… Afrobarometer data – tolerance of dissentâ•‡ 182
Eâ•… Afrobarometer data – inclusionâ•‡ 185
Select bibliography 187
Index 196
This page intentionally left blank
Tables
â•‹1.1 Post-war political reintegration according to unit of analysis 8

â•‹2.1 Focus groups 41
â•‹3.1 Voting in national elections 61
â•‹3.2 Contacting local government officials 64
â•‹3.3 Discuss problems with other people in the community 67
â•‹3.4 Use of force or violence for a political cause 71
â•‹4.1 Attending a demonstration or protest march 90
â•‹4.2 Violence never justified vs. sometimes violence necessary 91
â•‹4.3 Government like a parent vs. an employee 101
â•‹5.1 Freedom House values for Liberia 116
â•‹5.2 Careful about what you say in politics 117
â•‹5.3 One political party 117
â•‹5.4 Fear becoming a victim of political intimidation 118
â•‹6.1 Nationality vs. ethnicity 143
â•‹6.2 Ethnic group treated unfairly 143
A.1 Focus groups 178
B.1 Problems facing the country 179
B.2 Evaluation of elections 179
B.3 Writing a letter to a newspaper or calling a radio show 179
B.4 Attending a community meeting 180
B.5 Contacting religious leaders 180
B.6 Voice heard between elections 180
C.1 Corruption: representatives to National Legislature 181
C.2 Question actions of leaders vs. respect authority 181
D.1 Free to say what you think 182
D.2 Free to choose who to vote for 182
D.3 Political parties create division 182
D.4 Opposition parties should criticize the government 183
D.5 Political competition leads to violence 183
D.6 Cause of conflict 184
E.1 Political influence of ethnic group 185
E.2 Ethnic group treated unfairly 185
xâ•… Tables
E.3 Economic conditions of ethnic group 185
E.4 Nationality vs. ethnicity 186
E.5 Economic conditions of ethnic group 186
E.6 Political influence of ethnic group 186
Acknowledgements
My research, and associated fieldwork, was made possible with the generous
support of the Department of Government at Uppsala University, the Depart-
ment for Research Cooperation (SAREC) at SIDA, the Nordic Africa Institute,
the Johan Skytte travel grant for PhD students, Göransson-Sandvikens resesti-
pendium, Borbos Erik Hanssons stipendium, Siamon Stiftelsen, Håkansssons
resestipendium, and Rektors resebidrag från Wallenbergstifelsen. The book builds
on my thesis (Söderström, Johanna. 2011. Politics of Affection: Ex-Combatants,
Political Engagement and Reintegration Programs in Liberia. Acta Universitatis
Upsaliensis. Skrifter utgivna av Statsvetenskapliga föreningen i Uppsala, No 181).
I am very grateful for the time and thought the following persons have given
to the writing of this book: Li Bennich-Björkman, Anna Jarstad, Enzo Nussio,
Ben Oppenheim, Mats Utas, Gina Gustavsson, Per Adman, Morten Bøås, Stefano
Guzzini, Joakim Palme, Suruchi Thapar-Björkert, Anirudh Krishna, Adam
Shehata, Terrence Lyons, Gyda Marås Sindre, Frode Løvlie, Anders Themnér,
Sten Widmalm, Gunnar Myrberg, Robert Kimball, Ralph Sundberg and Katrin
Uba. Any remaining flaws are entirely my own. I would also like to extend a
special thank you to Gunnel Söderström. Finally, this book would not have come
to be without the time and energy of the young men and women interviewed for
this book, who have generously shared their thoughts on post-war life in Liberia
with me.
Abbreviations
AFL Armed Forces of Liberia

CDC Congress for Democratic Change
DDR Demobilization, Disarmament and Reintegration
GAA German Agro Action
GOL Government of Liberia
IDDRS Integrated Disarmament, Demobilization and Reintegration
Standards
LURD Liberians United for Reconciliation and Democracy
MODEL Movement for Democracy in Liberia
MVTC Monrovia Vocational Training Center
NEC National Elections Commission
NGO Non-Governmental Organization
NPFL National Patriotic Front of Liberia
NPP National Patriotic Party
TRC Truth and Reconciliation Commission
ULIMO-J United Liberation Movement of Liberia for Democracy–
Johnson faction
ULIMO-K United Liberation Movement of Liberia for Democracy–
Kromah faction
UMCOR United Methodist Committee on Relief
UN United Nations
UNDP United Nations Development Program
UNMIL United Nations Mission in Liberia
YMCA Young Men Christian Association
1 Political reintegration after war
The politics of former combatants can crucially shape democracy and peacebuilding
in war-torn societies. Questions about the political role and position of former
combatants at the end of war have long been the concern of researchers and politi-
cians alike. Apprehensions about returning soldiers from World War I and World
War II, to the reception of veterans from the Vietnam War, to questions about how
to design current reintegration projects in the aftermath of civil wars are indica-
tive of this preoccupation. The political mobilization of former combatants after
war is often perceived as a threat, believed to undermine the security and stability
of the state. This book questions this simplified view of the political role of for-
mer combatants, as former combatants and veterans have played various political
roles after war, some integral to the development of democracy and others deeply
problematic for democracy. This book is about the political role and agency of
ex-combatants in post-war Liberia.
The fear of returning soldiers is an ageless phenomenon. For instance, toward
the end of World War II, the American Secretary of War Henry Stimson expressed
a deep concern about the returning veterans and their reconciliation with the dem-
ocratic system: “when those troops come back to us again at the close of the war
[…] it may have an effect upon the future unity of our nation which is disturb-
ing to contemplate” (cited in Waller 1944, p. 90). His concern was in particular
motivated by the experiences after World War I and veterans’ association with
fascism across Europe, as well as protests related to veteran benefits in the United
States after the war. Similarly, Sir William Beveridge expressed concerns about
idle veterans in 1944 at the end of the famous Beveridge report detailing employ-
ment policies for Britain,1 noting that the conditions of demobilization was an
urgent problem but not one that his report was able to deal with: “unless plans are
made now and are known to be made for the maintenance of employment after
the transition from war to peace there can be no hope of a smooth transition”
(Beveridge 1944, p. 253). In the end, the experience of British veterans returning
home after WWII lacked any concerted effort to hone in their engagement and
promote social mobility, and has been described as a “lost opportunity” (Allport
2009, p. 157). This fear of returning soldiers has been noted in even earlier cases
as well, for example in the aftermath of the Napoleonic wars (see Allport 2009, p. 185),
and, as convincingly demonstrated by McMullin, former combatants and veterans
2â•… Political reintegration after war
have been a political and societal concern since antiquity (McMullin 2013a,
pp. 45–77; see also Englander and Osborne 1978, p. 620).
The concern about returning soldiers has motivated a research interest in the
military as an institution in general, but also to what extent military service changes
the values and behaviors of those who serve, especially in the political sphere.
Research on the political socialization of the military is far from conclusive (for
a discussion of this, see Krebs 2004). Research on American veterans indicate
that the military experience during some wars (WWII, Korea and post-Vietnam)
increases political participation, whereas the Vietnam experience itself seems to
have decreased their political participation (Teigen 2006). Experiences of African
veterans from the world wars have indicated that the political consequences may
not be that extensive and, if anything, may have led to more conservative orien-
tations (Greenstein 1978). Different types of involvement by ex-combatants in
post-war politics have also been noted in Sierra Leone, where the ex-combatants
had a fairly sinister and cynical view of politics (Christensen and Utas 2008), and
Uganda, where the experience with violence seems to have led to more extensive
participation (Blattman 2009).
More recently, these concerns about former combatants have also led to an
extensive interrogation into the impact of the peacebuilding measures specifi-
cally targeted at former combatants, such as Disarmament, Demobilization and
Reintegration Programs (DDR) (see note for detailed references).2 DDR pro-
grams are large endeavors that have become increasingly integral to the United
Nations’ (UN) practices in post-war societies. Roughly 1.4 million combatants
were involved in 24 programs around the globe between 2005 and 2008, most of
which were in Africa.3 While the total costs of such programs are difficult to esti-
mate, during 2007 the bill came in around USD 1,599 billion, most of which was
spent on the reintegration component (Caramés et al. 2006; Caramés et al. 2007;
Caramés and Sanz 2009, 2008, pp. 3–5; UNDP 2005). More specifically, the field
of research related to DDR has focused on the reintegration of former combatants
along several different dimensions, such as economic, social and political reinte-
gration. While much of this literature is trying to decipher whether reintegration
programs matter for the reintegration of ex-combatants, this research deals more
generally as well with reintegration challenges in contemporary ex-combatant
communities around the world.
Placing the current peacebuilding literature in a historical context and perspec-
tive adds depth and nuances to the research on the reintegration of ex-combatants.
McMullin has demonstrated the striking differences in depiction and policy
response between ex-combatants and veterans, despite the many commonalities
between these categories. Similar problems and questions have been noted both in
antiquity, modern history and in current day peacebuilding practices about these
categories. What is striking is the lack of nuances of how the ex-combatant
in contrast with the veteran is understood in these different settings, as well
as the limited reintegration package ex-combatants are targeted with in contrast
with the relatively extensive support veterans have received (McMullin 2013a,
pp. 4–5, 38, 45–77, 218; see also Schafer 2007, pp. 1–15). This book attempts to
Political reintegration after warâ•…3
bridge this divide, lending voice and adding nuance to the understanding of ex-
combatants in contemporary Liberian politics. Understanding the political voice
of former combatants today is imperative for gaining a deeper sense of what role
ex-combatants actually play for peacebuilding.
The ex-combatant – villain or victim?

Ex-combatants provide an interesting nexus between democratization and con-
flict termination processes at the micro-level; they are the target group of DDR
programs and politically they represent a critical group in the transition. However,
the understanding of this particular group in past research has been overly simpli-
fied. At times they are seen as agents, other times as victims of structural forces.
Their motivation is often described as restricted to either grievances or greed
(see e.g. Collier 1994, 2000).4 Similar to Utas (2003, pp. 25–34), the argument
put forward here is that such simple categorization of those fighting in war needs
to be questioned (see also McMullin 2013b; Humphreys and Weinstein 2008).
Ex-combatants are not only (or necessarily) a threat, nor are they simply vic-
tims. Ex-combatants represent a diversified group, which potentially contain a
multitude of voices. Yet they are often reduced to a threat, by practitioners and
researchers alike (McMullin 2013b, 2013a, pp. 214, 220). Current DDR policies
also assume that ex-combatants do not embrace democratic norms: “Training can
also help break down military attitudes and behaviour, and develop values and
norms based on peace and democracy” (UN DDR Resource Centre 2006, p. 28).
Ex-combatants are a politically relevant group in society, and the object of a
lot of policy in post-war contexts. They are politically relevant for many different
reasons, but only partly because they can return to arms. While their involvement
in the war may not always have been promoted for political reasons, the nature of
the violence itself and the conflict itself adds an element of the political in their
role as combatants (Nilsson 2008, p. 168f). Sometimes they constitute a political
problem post-war, they can be a potential security threat (sometimes only in the
form of petty crime), but they have also experienced an ordeal as such, which
may entitle them to additional support in the post-war context, they may also be
a source of additional pressure on politicians who also need to negotiate their
post-war politics with other segments of society. In addition, the roles as victim/
survivor and perpetrator are often more mixed than is recognized, as the same
individual is often both a perpetrator and target of violence, especially in civil war
contexts (see e.g. Pouligny 2004, p. 7; Fujii 2010). In the particular case of Liberia
(which this book deals with), several have noted how this distinction becomes
blurred, partly because of shifting roles over time, but also because of the nature
of their involvement during the war (Utas 2005b, p. 412; Ellis 2007, p. 133f;
Moran 2006, p. 46; Munive and Jakobsen 2012 also note a blurred distinction
between ex-combatants and non-combatants during DDR programs).
The ex-combatants’ military experience gives them capacities and access
to networks, and often weapons, that make them well-positioned to undermine
post-war politics if they should so desire, and because they can be particularly
targeted for easy mobilization (see e.g. Nilsson 2008, p. 192; Darby and Mac
Ginty 2003, p. 268; Toure 2002, p. 26). Many note therefore that they represent a
particular challenge in the post-war context, especially if reintegration attempts
fail (Toure 2002, p. 26; Arnson and Azpuru 2003, p. 201; Nilsson 2008, p. 174;
Zahar 2006, p. 45; Knight and Özerdem 2004, pp. 502, 506). For instance, it has
been suggested that political marginalization may lead to a return to violence
(Walter 2004; Nilsson 2008, p. 185; see also Humphreys and Weinstein 2008, p. 447).
Many have also criticized this view of ex-combatants as a threat to security, not-
ing that it often presents an overly simplistic view of how societies return to war,
and that this understanding of ex-combatants has been instrumental for motivat-
ing current DDR programs (Bolten 2012; McMullin 2013b; Hardgrove 2012,
pp. 81, 205; McMullin 2013a, p. 218; the idea of the veteran as deviant, violent
and neglected was also used to extend reintegration support after the Vietnam
war in the United States, see Dean 1992). Similarly, the predilection for politi-
cal violence among veterans after World War I has also often been exaggerated
(Englander 1994, p. 319).
The war experience itself is considered by many as formative for individuals’
identities and their ensuing political behavior. Indeed, it may create veterans who
have huge difficulties coping in the new social system which develops in the
post-war society (Laufer 1987, p. 379; Siegel 1989; Laufer 1989, pp. 421–3). In
comparison, recent work from Uganda suggests instead that both perpetrators and
victims of violence have a heightened degree of political participation, contrary
to policy makers’ expectations (Blattman 2009, p. 237). Based on research on ex-
combatants in Liberia after the end of the conflict, Bøås and Hatløy have indicated
that, while the ex-combatants were a fairly diverse group pre-war, “[t]heir war-
time experience may have changed them, their mindset and their behavior” (Bøås
and Hatløy 2008, p. 42). We also know, from social movement research, that even
participation in more limited activities at low levels of commitment can have
important and long-lasting consequences for the individuals concerned (see e.g.
Giugni 2004, p. 496).
The combatant experience has also been noted to have changed gender roles,
sometimes propelling female combatants into forms of social and economic
empowerment previously unknown (see e.g. Utas 2005b; Moran 2010; Ellis 2007,
p. 303; West 2000; McKay 2004; Schafer 1998; Coulter 2006; see also Fuest
2008, p. 214). It is also the case that the ex-combatant identity and associated
network often continue to be relevant for the individual ex-combatant in the post-
war context (see for instance Christensen and Utas 2008, p. 525; Nilsson 2008,
p. 186). In part, of course, this is also emphasized by the DDR experience itself, as
the ex-combatants are again thrown together quite intimately through attendance
in the reintegration programs. As social networks are important for the forma-
tion of attitudes, especially when they remain intact (see e.g. Krebs 2004, pp.
110–11; Fine and Harrington 2004), the ex-combatant community is likely to play
an important role here.
The social networks of ex-combatants are often seen as a threat to peace.
In some communities in Liberia, the ex-combatants are clearly continuing to
influence security structures, especially in Lofa where in particular former com-
manders of Liberians United for Reconciliation and Democracy (LURD) are
taking on key roles in local collective security solutions. These networks do, how-
ever, seem to include ex-combatants across previously warring factions (Bøås
2010, p. 270; Kantor and Persson 2010, p. 26). In response to what was perceived
to be local security threats, the UN conducted so called Hotspot assessments;
these assessments revealed that the role of ex-combatants in these sites varied –
ex-combatants were in some sites instrumental for conflict resolution and taking
on roles of political responsibility, whereas other groups were more damaging
to security (McMullin 2013a, pp. 209, 222). Whether or not the ex-combatant
community (communities) are contributing to peace or undermining it in the long
run is another question. The same argument can be made for democracy. Ex-
combatants can do both.
Ex-combatants can take on varying roles in the post-war context, beyond avoid-
ing or resorting to violence. They make up a significant part of the citizens of the
post-war regime, and their political engagement will also determine the quality of
that political regime. Thus it appears warranted to enhance our understanding of
the politics of ex-combatants, thereby contributing to the call for more research on
attitudes and beliefs in conflict and post-war contexts (Hadjipavlou 2007, p. 363f),
and the need for more nuanced and diversified views of ex-combatants as politi-
cal actors (McMullin 2013b, p. 413, 2013a, pp. 14–37; Hoffman 2006; Schafer
2007). Hoffman notes how ex-combatants and armed groups in Africa often are
described as apolitical, and restricted to an either simple economic model or as
completely irrational. To not take their political agency seriously, he argues, is
deeply problematic (Hoffman 2006). McMullin also notes the importance of rec-
ognizing the diversity within this group in order to avoid a portrayal of the Global
South as homogenous. Similarly, ex-combatants may not always be distinct from
the ‘civilian population’ either (McMullin 2013a, p. 240, 2013b, p. 413). Recog-
nizing ex-combatants as political actors is important on its own. Exploring how
ex-combatants relate to politics will reveal how the political roles ex-combatants
engage in post-war should be understood. Irrespective of what has shaped their
relationship with politics, the war or their post-war experiences, understanding
how they relate to post-war politics is crucial for the continued democratization
and peace processes. Instead of denying ex-combatants political agency, as has
often happened in the past in both representation of ex-combatants and in pro-
grams targeting ex-combatants (Bøås 2013, p. 620), their political agency needs
to be taken seriously and not summarily equated with a security threat. Again, this
book is an attempt to recognize that political voice, as well as the diversity within
the ex-combatant community.
A better understanding of ex-combatants as political actors, in and of them-
selves, is needed. This book will show how ex-combatants in Liberia relate to
politics in the aftermath of the war and peace, reflecting the following research
question: How do ex-combatants in Liberia think about politics and how do they
engage in politics? In contrast to previous work in this field, this book argues that
political reintegration needs to be given serious attention at the micro-level
(i.e. at the level of the individual). Political reintegration at this level also needs
to be scrutinized in two ways: through the ex-combatants’ level of involvement
in politics, but also through an analysis of the content of their political voice, in
terms of the values and attitudes they embrace and express. The final argument
presented in this book is that the Liberian ex-combatants’ relationship with politics
overall should be characterized as an expression of a politics of affection.
Politics of affection implies that politics is filtered and understood through an
emotive lens. The relationship with politics is a rich, intricate, sometimes con-
tradictory one. There is an emotive or affective undertone to many of the stands
taken by the ex-combatants. Politics of affection highlights emotional logics in
the realm of everyday politics, not just in terms of ordering economic structures
or relationships. Politics of affection is not primarily driven by issues of represen-
tation, accountability and liberal democratic ideals, but also by something else: a
logic of emotional connectedness with politics. For instance, trust for politicians
is filtered based on the extent to which they are seen as behaving as kin or parents.
Caring for and establishing emotional bonds matter in politics.
The book is based on rich primary data collected through interviews with over
one hundred ex-combatants in Liberia. The focus group interview setting has con-
tributed to producing this rich material, where the ex-combatants have been able
to nuance and formulate their relationship with politics in great detail. The book
offers a unique insight into politics on the ground among ex-combatants in Liberia
and their understanding of everyday politics, and through that an understanding of
the post-war state in Liberia. In order to do this, the book first needs to clarify how
the political reintegration of individual ex-combatants should be defined. In doing
so, the book also offers a way forward in the study of political reintegration more
generally, which adds to the understanding of processes of peacebuilding and
democratization in other post-conflict countries. Thereafter, the extent and con-
tent of the political voice of ex-combatants in Liberia is described; this description
constitutes the greater part of the book. Through this description the everyday
political choices and behavior, as well as the political imaginary and vocabulary
used to talk and act politics among former combatants in Liberia are captured.
Finally, this book discusses how ex-combatants shape the prospects for post-war
democracy and peacebuilding in Liberia.
Political reintegration of elites, groups or combatants?

Research that today deals with the political aspect of reintegration of ex-combatants
has only done so in a rather limited and under-theorized fashion, and it is usually
unclear why certain aspects have been chosen over others to represent political
reintegration. The argument in this book is that this limited conceptual understand-
ing of what political (re)integration5 means has impaired research within this field.
In part the limited scrutiny of political reintegration of ex-combatants is related to
the exaggerated focus on economic reintegration of ex-combatants in past research.6
Importantly, this tendency within literature on DDR to focus on economic reintegra-
tion reinforces the need to study ex-combatants as political actors, and in particular
through the lens of political reintegration. One of the main contributions of this
book is rectifying this imbalance and offering a clear theoretical point of depar-
ture for the concept of political reintegration for the literature on peacebuilding and
democratization.
One reason for the lack of a clear theoretical understanding of political rein-
tegration is the lack of a systematic identification of the unit of analysis used.7
Another reason might be that the policy community has been given too much
influence over this, and as they have often been uncomfortable with and unsure of
how to define as well as promote political reintegration, the term has been largely
forgotten by the research community as well (for more on this, see Söderström
2013a). Most of the work related to the concept of political reintegration has so
far been focused on the group level. Thus in some cases political reintegration
has been equated with the transformation of armed groups into political parties.
While this aspect is interesting, it is quite different from asking questions about
the political involvement of individuals, albeit ex-combatants, or the political
reintegration of the former military elite. This book argues that the body of work
that addresses political reintegration in the aftermath of war can be divided into
three areas:
1 research that focuses on the transformation of the military elite to a political

elite;
2 research that focuses on the transformation of armed groups into political
parties; and
3 research that focuses on individual rank and file combatants becoming
citizens.
Adding clarity to this research field, through separating according to the unit of
analysis employed, also opens up a new research agenda which can help us pin-
point differences in explanations and contradictory findings between these levels.
Conceptual clarity is important, in part because it allows empirical research to
be structured better, but also because it clarifies other patterns of similarity and
dissimilarity across levels as well as linkages between concepts better. Through
differentiating between different referent objects for political reintegration, as
seen in Table 1.1, this can be achieved. There are important differences between
how the outcome of political reintegration is defined, how political reintegration
is justified, what challenges are associated with each unit of analysis, and finally
how successful political reintegration is explained in relation to each. Political
reintegration can thus occur at three different levels, or in relation to three differ-
ent referent objects: the military elite, armed groups, and individual combatants.
First, the outcome of political reintegration for these different units of analy-
sis will vary. At the micro-level, combatants are the referent objects of political
reintegration. Here, political reintegration refers to a process occurring at the indi-
vidual level, and it is therefore at this level that it needs to be defined, measured
and understood. The same is true for the other units of analysis. For the military
elite, successful political reintegration is equated with becoming a political elite
Table 1.1â•‡ Post-war political reintegration according to unit of analysis
Unit of Analysis Outcome of political Justification Challenges Explanationsa

reintegration
1 Military elite Political Peace: stake in Human rights abuses Economic incentives
elite (elected the peace (avoid War crimes Recognized as justified representatives of group,
representatives) spoilers) Undermine division between domestically and internationally
the military and the civilian Influenced by political reintegration of other levels
government
2 Armed groups Political parties Peace and Freezes conflict lines, Part of peace agreement
democracy: perpetuating the conflict Peacebuilding
address conflict Internal cohesion of the group
causes through Legitimacy accorded by the international
legitimate means community
Popular support
Funding opportunities
Political origins of armed group
Influenced by political reintegration of other levels
3 Combatants Citizens Democracy: equal Risks giving ex-combatants By-product of socioeconomic reintegration
(democrats) participation for all precedence in political Procedural effect of peacebuilding
life in contrast with more (DDR programs)
disadvantaged groups, such War experience
as war victims/survivors Community perception/content of the identity label
Fear of ex-combatants (ex-combatant/veteran) in the public discourse
derailing democracy Democratic qualities of institutional environment
Influenced by political reintegration of other levels
Note
a The lists include examples of explanations, but are not exhaustive.
instead (ultimately becoming elected representatives), whereas for armed groups
this is equated with becoming political parties, and for individual combatants this
is equated with becoming functioning citizens in the new regime.8
These processes of political reintegration may of course impact on each other.
The reintegration of individual ex-combatants may be affected by whether or not
the armed group transforms into a political party or not, but it is not a measure of
political reintegration at the micro-level in and of itself (a difference sometimes
not recognized enough in past research). Even if the armed group transforms into
a political party, this may not necessarily enhance the political involvement of the
rank and file ex-combatants; this is still an open question that has not been empiri-
cally scrutinized enough. This may especially be the case as the political culture
in some of these armed groups is noted to be “militant, hierarchical, sectarian and
internally undemocratic” (Söderberg Kovacs 2008, p. 135). Thus, if we want to
explore and measure whether individual ex-combatants are politically integrated,
examining how well armed groups have transformed themselves into political
parties does not address that particular issue. Similarly, whether an armed group
manages to transform itself into a political party depends in part on the conduct
of its military elite, as well as its ability to attract followers (some of which are
likely to be former combatants of the armed group), but it cannot be equated with
successful political reintegration of its ex-combatants or its military elite. Thus,
while the different processes impact on each other, success in one instance cannot
be equated with success in another.
Justifications for political reintegration vary between the units of analysis.
The argument in favor of including the military elite (warlords and military com-
manders etc.) in formal and representational politics is rather different from the
argument in favor of allowing former combatants to participate in politics. Ensur-
ing that previous military strongmen have incentives to keep the peace has often
been an important reason to support their entry into formal and representational
politics. Avoiding such spoilers is thus primarily motivated from the perspective
of achieving peace. At the same time, their war history, which sometimes includes
human rights abuses as well as crimes against humanity, makes their inclusion in
democratic politics as elected representatives rather uncomfortable (see among
others Stedman 1997; Darby 2006; Themnér 2012, p. 213; Käihkö 2012, pp.
182–4). Yet their inclusion into politics may be unavoidable if one wants to move
away from war. Thus, in relation to political reintegration of the military elite,
there may be serious tradeoffs between forwarding peace and democracy. This
dilemma between peace and democracy is not as pronounced for the other pro-
cesses (for more on dilemmas between peacebuilding and democratization, see
Jarstad 2006).
In contrast, the justification for transforming armed groups into political parties
is that they then can become functional vehicles for addressing the root causes of
the conflict, offering a formalized channel for politics to continue commensurate
with democratic practices. However, the main challenge here is that the process
of transforming armed groups into political parties risks solidifying the political
conflict that fuelled the armed struggle to begin with, effectively hindering society
to move beyond these conflicts. Instead, the post-war society may have to deal
with politics that is structured around the same divisions for a long time to come.
At the same time, this potential tradeoff also speaks to the main justification for
such transformation: it allows the various actors to channel the grievances that
fuelled the conflict and address the conflict causes in a legitimate manner. The
argument for political reintegration of armed groups rests on both justifications
related to peace and democracy, but the long-term implications for democracy
may be more problematic. The long-term implications of this have, however, not
been studied much.
The main justification for the political reintegration of individual ex-combatants
is the ideal of equal participation of all citizens in a democracy. The reasoning
behind equal participation for everyone rests on both arguments related to the
advocacy for your own self-interest, and that, as a whole, democracy will function
better when various interests are represented. Ex-combatants are not an exception
here, even if their participation in politics may cause concern and resentment
among survivors and victims of the war. In sum then, arguments related to both
peace and democracy are variably invoked depending on what process and refer-
ent object of political reintegration is justified.
Finally, separating political reintegration according to the unit of analysis also
exposes how different explanatory factors may operate differently (and similarly)
for the military elite, the armed group and the combatant. Clearly, the different
levels of political reintegration in themselves may be important in explaining the
outcome at another level. For instance, the group’s popular support can be based
on the former armed members of the group. Where the internal cohesion of the
group is missing, this might not hinder individual elite members to survive in
peace politics even if the party as such does not become a viable party. The list
of explanatory variables offered in Table 1.1. is not exhaustive by any means, but
should be seen as indicative of some of the similarities between the units of analy-
sis, but perhaps more importantly highlight that certain factors are more relevant
for explaining successful outcomes at one level than at another. For instance, the
war experience itself for individual rank and file combatants (including recruit-
ment) may be particularly important for political reintegration at the individual
level. Similarly, the potential impact of reintegration programs is most likely
centered at this level as well, even if decisions over program design and imple-
mentation may be used to forward or undermine the political standing of both
armed groups and particular members of the elite.
Research related to the first unit of analysis, i.e. the political reintegration of the
military elite, is less cohesive compared to the other levels. This literature is also
less pronounced in current literature on peacebuilding. Elite research in general
within political science is not scarce (see e.g. Engelstad 2007; Seawright 2007;
Higley and Burton 1989; Wolf 2009; Edinger 1960), nor is research on the military
elite either (see e.g. Weaver 1969; Janowitz 1964). However, work that concerns
itself with the transformation from a military elite to a political elite post-war is
more limited. There is some work related to the political role of the military elite
in Western democracies (among others Secher 1965), but not necessarily as much
dealing with the challenges of transition in more recent civil wars (for notable
exceptions see Reno 1998; Harris 1999; Utas 2012; Themnér 2012; Mukhopadhyay
2014; Themnér Forthcoming). The edited volume by Themnér is perhaps the most
comprehensive attempt yet to understand the political integration of the military
elite in recent post-war contexts. Importantly, however, this edited volume focuses
on deciphering the security repercussions of the inclusion of former warlords in
electoral politics, rather than defining or explaining political reintegration of the
military elite per se (Themnér Forthcoming).
The term “political reintegration” has rarely been applied to describe this par-
ticular phenomenon in the past, but could certainly be applied if former military
leaders become elected representatives. As elected officials they should prefer-
ably also subscribe to democratic norms; this raises the question if it is enough to
be democratically elected in order to be categorized as politically reintegrated at
this level. How sustainable and how enduring is this adoption of a new political
role in society? This is yet another important topic for future research.
Broadening the scope and including literatures that have studied the military
elite beyond current post-war contexts, the role of the military elite in political
transitions has often been studied (see e.g. Mayzel 1979; Wolf 2009; Weaver
1969; Diamint 2003), as well as the importance of the structure of the military
itself for democratization (in particular stressing the importance of professionali-
zation within the military and civilian control over the military) and the need for
a clear division between the political and military elite (Secher 1965; Knöchel
Ledberg 2014; Philip 2003, pp. 62–78; Janowitz 1964, p. 3). Wolf in particular
stresses the importance and challenge of democratic norms being adopted by this
group (Wolf 2009). Thus, in the past, ways of dealing with the military elite other
than political reintegration have been highlighted. One could perhaps term this
political de-integration rather, under the subheading of increased professionali-
zation, increased civilian control over the military, or what today is often talked
about as security sector reform. Another way of de-integrating the military elite
is linked to the prosecution of war crimes. This option is often justified on the
basis of transitional justice, or because it is believed that their inclusion in politics
would be bad for democracy. Hence, one often sees recommendations from Truth
and Reconciliation commissions that certain individuals should be banned from
holding public office due to their involvement during the war.
However, attempts to remove the military elite have often failed, despite con-
certed efforts to do so. Much of the research on the military elite has demonstrated
the continuity of the elite despite large-scale societal transformation (see e.g.
Mayzel 1979). In Germany after World War II there was an extensive attempt to
remove the old Nazi elite, and replace it with a new elite untainted by the Nazi era.
This Denazification Program had the explicit goal of ensuring that the political
elite (and other elites) did not include former Nazis, and thus the object here was
political de-integration:
All members of the Nazi Party who have been more than nominal participants
in its activities and other persons hostile to Allied purposes shall be removed
from public and semi-public office, and from positions of responsibility in
important private undertakings. Such persons shall be replaced by persons
who, by their political and moral qualities, are deemed capable of assisting in
developing genuine democratic institutions in Germany.
(Potsdam Agreement 1946)
The intention of the program and occupation of Germany was to “strengthen and
assist the democratic elements in Germany, to provide security, and to punish
the active Nazis and militarists” (Report of the Military Governor 1948, p. 1).
However, the Denazification program proved difficult to enforce, despite exten-
sive legal action.9 In the end, the old elite was only temporarily and partially
removed, and the Denazification Program has subsequently been described as a
fiasco (Edinger 1960; Herz 1948; Remy 2002). In the end it proved difficult to
rebuild German administration and government solely using an untainted elite,
and the enforcement of the program became more lax in the later phase. Others
have noted a similar recycling of elites in current day peacebuilding contexts, as
well as the difficulties of disentangling the military elite from the political elite
(Käihkö 2012, p. 191; Utas 2013).
The political de-/re-integration of the military elite is likely to have several
repercussions for post-war societies. For instance, including the military elite in
the new military may be beneficial for the economic reintegration of rank and
file combatants (Käihkö 2012, p. 191). Including the military elite in government
can result in a weakened state, even if they do not act as spoilers of the peace
per se (Käihkö 2012, p. 192). The military elite can also operate as protagonists
of both peace and democracy, mobilizing lower ranking former combatants, as
well as the opposite (Themnér 2012, pp. 215–8; Nilsson 2005, p. 79; Christensen
and Utas 2008; Utas 2013). Importantly, there may also be tradeoffs between the
levels in terms of political reintegration, where the complete transformation of an
armed group into a democratic political party or the embrace of democratic norms
among the ex-combatants may endanger the position of the elite as the elected
leaders of the group (see e.g. Marås Sindre 2011, p. 215).
Another unit of analysis related to political reintegration is the armed group.
This field of research has a common understanding of what is at stake when it
comes to political reintegration, namely the armed group becoming a political
party (see e.g. Guáqueta 2009; Torjesen and Macfarlane 2009; Söderberg Kovacs
2007, 2008; Berdal and Ucko 2009; Pouligny 2004; Vines and Oruitemeka 2009;
Giustozzi 2009; Marriage 2009; Schafer 1998; Marås Sindre 2011, 2013). The
cumulative work in this area has established a wealth of case studies on this kind
of transformation process. There is even a series devoted solely to this purpose
published by the Berghof Foundation (Transitions Series, see e.g. Nindorera 2012;
García Durán et al. 2008; Maharaj 2008; Aguswandi 2008), and several edited
volumes with specific case studies (Berdal and Ucko 2009; De Zeeuw 2007).
While it is difficult to estimate the total number of successful transformations (to
say nothing of the failed attempts), we know that 30 of the 216 peace agreements
that have been signed between 1975 and 2011 included provisions for transforming
the armed group into a political party (Högbladh 2012). Importantly, there is a
large consensus on the definition of political reintegration at this level: the trans-
formation of armed groups into political parties.
Factors that have been highlighted as important for explaining the successful
transformation of armed groups into political parties often include:
1 the internal cohesion of the group itself;

2 the group’s popular support;
3 the degree of legitimacy accorded from the international community; and
4 the economic base of the group.
(See e.g. Söderberg Kovacs 2007, pp. 8, 196; Marås Sindre 2011, pp. 162–4,
189–90.) Here again it becomes visible how the various processes relate to each
other, as the group’s popular support can be based on the former armed members
of the group. Where the internal cohesion of the group is missing, this might not
hinder individual elite members to survive in peace politics, even if the party as
such does not become a viable party. Signals related to the group’s legitimacy
are often transmitted via peacebuilding interventions and behavior of the inter-
national community, for example, as made visible through the Demobilization,
Disarmament and Reintegration (DDR) programs targeting individual ex-combatants
(see e.g. Ucko 2009, pp. 91, 96, 109). Similarly, Guáqueta notes how the political
legitimacy of the M-19 as a group was a large determinant of the success of politi-
cal reintegration in Colombia for individual ex-combatants belonging to the group
(Guáqueta 2009), partly based on the group’s past behavior as well as political
goals. Additionally, Marås Sindre notes that the origins of the armed group have
important implications for the longevity and success of the transformation into a
political party (Marås Sindre 2011, 2013, Manuscript under review).
In the next section, the third unit of analysis (the political reintegration of indi-
vidual ex-combatants) will be discussed in more detail. Note, however, that the
main justification for the political reintegration of individual ex-combatants is the
ideal of equal participation of all citizens in a polity, thus justified on democratic
grounds. The concluding chapter of the book will return to both explanations as
well as consequences of the political reintegration of ex-combatants. A division
according to the unit of analysis adds theoretical clarity to the field of politi-
cal reintegration, and the contrast between the overview and the actual research
that has been carried out related to each process can be useful in formulating a
research agenda. Differentiating political reintegration with respect to different
referent objects in post-war politics thus offers ways to both see new research
questions, as well as ways of structuring the research itself.
The ex-combatants’ relationship with politics

The focus of this book is to understand ex-combatants as political actors, thereby
highlighting the need to define political reintegration of individual ex-combatants.
Political reintegration is essentially about the degree of political involvement.
Political reintegration at the level of individual ex-combatants needs to be under-
stood as the process whereby political channels are increasingly seen as viable for
handling societal problems for the individual ex-combatant. However, what chan-
nels are seen as appropriate and legitimate channels will vary from case to case,
and over time (see also Barnes and Kaase 1979, pp. 27–41). Thus all forms (and all
channels) of political participation envisioned by the ex-combatants are indications
of an increased level of political involvement, the extent of their political voice.
This definition, also highlights that the ex-combatants’ sense of internal efficacy
should be seen as an indicator of this, as internal efficacy refers to an individu-
al’s rating of their own capacity to influence and participate in politics. Political
involvement10 then reflects the degree to which the ex-combatants feel that they
have a political voice, no matter how that voice is articulated. However, in order
to fully make sense of political reintegration, the values and political content that
hide behind the ex-combatants’ political involvement also need to be uncovered.
In past research, democratic assumptions have implicitly been a part of our
understanding of political reintegration, but the democratic components that have
been scrutinized have been quite limited and without much discussion of their
appropriateness. Evaluating political reintegration in terms of democratic criteria
needs to be done more coherently and explicitly than in the past. By noting that
the ideal goal of political reintegration is democratic integration, an explicit ideal
point of comparison can be formulated, namely democratic values and norms.
Such a take on the democratic aspect of political reintegration requires a closer
look at the extent to which democratic norms and ideals are embraced by ex-
combatants. In particular, this calls for an examination of such things as views
on tolerance, pluralism, equality and inclusion in politics. The embrace of such
democratic values are certainly indicative of a positive political reintegration.
Hence, this book proposes that political reintegration needs to be understood in
terms of two components:
1 the degree of political involvement of the ex-combatants (the extent of their

political voice); and
2 the values and norms that inform that involvement (the content of their political
voice).
Within this field of research there has been a lot of laudable work done on how
ex-combatants relate to politics in the aftermath of war. However, with respect to
the concept of political reintegration, there are several problems related to this lit-
erature. The term is left surprisingly undefined in many cases, and there are often
implicit democratic assumptions embedded in the definitions that are offered (see
e.g. Kingma 2002, p. 188; Podder 2010, p. 4; Denissen 2010, p. 329; Muggah
et al. 2009, pp. 194, 197; Özerdem 2003, p. 83, 2010, p. 23; Maclay and Özerdem
2010). Oftentimes, the scope of the term is limited to what are considered as dem-
ocratic forms of political participation (see e.g. Porto et al. 2007, p. 71), which
is then contrasted with violent forms of participation. Limiting the forms of par-
ticipation a priori is problematic, especially as specific forms of participation
may not be that easy to categorize in terms of their democratic content as is often
assumed.11 The range of participation is much larger than these two extremes.
In any case, non-governmental channels of participation and protests are not
necessarily undemocratic. Protests may in fact be an integral part of democracy.
Research has also demonstrated that often it is the same people who participate
in all forms of participation, and it is more a question of their degree of involve-
ment, and that such a division between one group doing one thing and another
group doing other things as implied by the definition employed by Humphreys
and Weinstein (2007) does not really occur (see e.g. Verba et al. 1978).
Another problem is that many of the definitions offered, or ways of measur-
ing political reintegration, are dependent on systemic evaluations, i.e. they rely
on evaluations of the political system as a whole. However, ex-combatants can
be more or less politically reintegrated independent of whether the society as a
whole has made democratic progress. Our investigation of the political reintegra-
tion of individual ex-combatants should not be biased due to the state of politics
in a particular context. This is not to say that such evaluations are unimportant or
irrelevant. One such common measure is the expressed confidence in the demo-
cratic system, often captured through the ex-combatants’ preference for voting
over other forms of participation (see e.g. Humphreys and Weinstein 2007, p. 541,
2009, p. 55; Pugel 2009, p. 79). Perhaps there are real problems with the political
system in place – is that then really a good measure of the political reintegration
of the ex-combatants? Perhaps those who express a lack of support for using elec-
tions as a way to express their political voice are in fact politically more savvy,
because they recognize the limitations and, depending on context, perceive prob-
lems with the electoral process?
Asking whether the individual feels discriminated by political authorities
(see e.g. Muggah et al. 2009, pp. 194, 197) is another indication of something that
speaks to systemic progress, rather than a characteristic of the individual as such.
Clearly, political discrimination by public authorities is an important determinant
of anyone’s ability to participate in politics (hence it could even be posited as
an explanation of political reintegration), but including it in the definition or the
measurement of political reintegration as such introduces an unwarranted con-
textual bias to the measure. The same problem appears when levels of external
efficacy are evaluated. While the individual ex-combatant’s perception of how
accessible different forms of participation are may vary between ex-combatants,
it is more likely to be determined by the actual context in which the ex-combatant
finds him- or herself. In order to evaluate the individual’s own level of involve-
ment in politics, this systemic bias should not be introduced.
The basic interest in this book, and at the core of the term “political reintegra-
tion”, is the extent and nature of the ex-combatants’ political engagement: do they
at all see themselves (and fellow countrymen) as political beings, and, if so, in what
sense do they feel and act as political beings?12 Inherent in these questions is the
recognition that, while some aspects are supportive of democracy, others are not.
The concern for the democratic content of political reintegration is thus not unwar-
ranted. People can be and are engaged in politics in ways that are not democratic,
and thus the content of their political voice is important to capture and understand.
Our understanding of the content of their voice will be made clear through openly
contrasting it with the ideals embedded in tolerance and equality. Democrats are a
precondition for a functioning democracy, i.e. the quality and nature of individuals’
relation with politics has aggregated effects on the quality and nature of a polity
(see among others Bratton 2006; Bratton and Liatto-Katundu 1994; Kymlicka and
Norman 1994; Diamond 1999). Hence, the content of various groups’ political
voice will condition and structure macro-level politics in a society. For instance,
the ex-combatants’ heavy involvement in the elections in Sierra Leone in 2007, as
shown by Christensen and Utas, does not necessarily reflect democratic values,
but rather cynicism and an opportunity for personal gain as well as the place for
violence in elections (Christensen and Utas 2008, pp. 528–36). These observa-
tions highlight the importance of uncovering the values and norms behind political
behavior, in order to truly understand what they signify.
The different areas of politics that are investigated in the coming chapters are
on the one hand not separable, as political participation clearly relates to electoral
experiences, and electoral experiences are also linked to their views on the expres-
sion of dissent, as well as their delimitation of who should belong to the political
community. Together these chapters reflect the ex-combatants’ conceptualization
of politics. On the other hand, theoretically, these are separable aspects, and are
treated as such, to varying degrees, as reflected by the separation into chapters.
Importantly, four dimensions of the ex-combatants’ relation with politics are
brought to the fore in this study in order to reflect the two components of politi-
cal reintegration (the degree of political involvement of the ex-combatant and the
values and norms that inform that involvement, as above).
The first component is only concerned with one dimension, namely the degree
of political involvement. This dimensions speaks to the extent the ex-combatants
feel they have a political voice. Issues that feed into this dimension are the levels
of political participation envisaged by the ex-combatants, their feeling of internal
efficacy and involvement in community decisions. This book investigates politi-
cal participation in a broad way, taking the types of political acts as identified
by the ex-combatants themselves seriously. This includes collective action and
contacts with politicians (behavior within representational politics), but it also
includes participation through extra-representational channels. This will help us
capture the totality of the ex-combatants’ political involvement. These aspects of
the ex-combatants’ relationship with politics are covered in Chapter 3. Of course,
the choice as to which channels are seen as appropriate for political action are
not completely independent of the political regime, but this way of understand-
ing political reintegration has a smaller systemic bias than measures of political
reintegration that speak to the ex-combatants’ confidence in democratic channels.
The second component, which deals with the values and norms that inform their
political involvement, on the other hand, contains three dimensions: expressed
antagonism, tolerance of dissent and inclusion. The first dimension here is
expressed antagonism, which is covered in Chapter 4. This dimension emerged
as an inductive result of the interviews with the ex-combatants themselves. It
became very apparent that the degree to which politics was viewed through antag-
onistic eyes varied a lot between the groups. Aspects that tapped into this relate
to their take on the use of protests and violence, but it was also expressed in
terms of whether politics was framed in a “we against them” perspective, having
a more hierarchical view of politics and questioning the results of the elections
in 2005, and a sense of abandonment after the elections. This dimension is also
important for understanding whether the assumed threat ex-combatants constitute
really is anti-democratic. Should we really be skeptical of all the political activ-
ity ex-combatants engage in? This chapter clarifies the source of antagonism and
frustration felt among the ex-combatants in Liberia.
Two central values related to democracy are equality and tolerance (Finkel
et al. 1999, p. 205f). Tolerance and equality are closely related to each other, as
both deal with the relationship between citizens and their ideas. A true democrat
tolerates a diversity of opinion and embraces pluralism, and has an inclusive con-
ception of the political community. From this, the last two dimensions follow.
The second dimension relate to the content of the ex-combatants’ voice is
labeled tolerance of dissent, and indicates the degree to which pluralistic ideals
are embraced. This dimension is scrutinized in Chapter 5. This chapter explores
how pluralism and dissent are thought of and dealt with in the context of Liberian
politics (at all levels, from their own stated ideals, their own behavior, as well as
how they respond to expressions of dissent in their local communities and national
politics). This dimension captures the degree to which the ex-combatants’ value
consensus, whether they see dissent as a source of violence and danger, whether
one should avoid criticizing the government, whether the number of political
parties should be decreased, if one should avoid public dissent entirely, and the
degree to which the opposition is identified as a source of danger. The group
interaction itself during the interview was also used to evaluate their tolerance of
a diversity of opinions.
The issue of inclusion stands out as the last relevant dimension for under-
standing ex-combatants’ relationship with politics, which denotes the degree to
which equality and inclusivity are embraced as ideals in politics. This dimension
is discussed in Chapter 6. This chapter explores how the ex-combatants relate to
equality and inclusion in the demos; as such the chapter looks at where the ex-
combatants draw the limits of their polity and their conceptions of citizenship, and
captures the degree to which equality and inclusivity are embraced as ideals in
politics. Basically, who do the ex-combatants believe should be part of the Libe-
rian political community and not? This chapter therefore problematizes groups
that have often been excluded in Liberian politics (such as the Mandingo and the
Lebanese community) in order to uncover the ex-combatants’ stance toward such
groups and what kind of arguments they advance toward exclusion from politics.
Outline of the book and argument

In the following chapters the ex-combatants’ relationship with politics is
described. Together, these chapters inform our understanding of ex-combatants’
dealings with politics in Liberia. Understanding how ex-combatants relate to
politics on a number of different themes is important for how ex-combatants
are dealt with and how post-war problems and societies are thought about. What
characterizes post-war politics, and how do ex-combatant communities play in
to this? These chapters are mainly based on focus group interviews, although a
few issues are also explored using the Afrobarometer survey data from Liberia.
The next chapter discusses these data collection choices and offers an overview
of the Liberian case.
The following chapters are organized to follow each of the dimensions that
grew out of the discussion on political reintegration: political involvement,
antagonism, dissent and inclusion. In particular, Chapter 3, Political involvement,
focuses on the forms of political participation the ex-combatants see as open to
them, thereby revealing the extent to which the ex-combatants are involved in
politics. Chapter 4, Expressed antagonism, describes how the ex-combatants view
politics through antagonistic eyes, through paying particular attention to where
confrontation and hostility are felt and expressed. Chapter 5, Tolerance of dissent,
explores how pluralism and dissent are thought of and dealt with in the context
of Liberian politics among ex-combatants. Chapter 6, Inclusion in the political
community, looks at where the ex-combatants draw the limits of their polity and
their conceptions of citizenship. Throughout, similarities and contrasts within the
ex-combatant community are brought out in order to do justice to the multitude of
voices within this community. Similarly, when and if there are contrasts with the
Liberian population as a whole, these are also addressed when possible.
In the concluding chapter, the resulting politics as a whole is discussed, as
well as how this feeds into peacebuilding and democratization processes in Libe-
ria. The concluding chapter also presents a discussion of how these tendencies
can be explained. Finally, the various dimensions of the ex-combatants’ politics
are discussed in turn, as well as how they relate to each other and the implica-
tions for larger political processes in Liberia given such orientations among the
ex-combatants. This discussion enriches our understanding of ex-combatants’
political culture, of course mainly in Liberia, but also as a more general phenom-
enon. Taken altogether, the ex-combatants expressed conceptually refined and
politically aware understandings of, and relations with, politics. As a whole, the
ex-combatants express a relation with politics indicative of a politics of affection,
where politics is not primarily driven by issues of representation, accountability
and liberal democratic ideals, but by a logic of emotion.
Notes
â•‡ 1 Sir William Beveridge was the author of the so called Beveridge Report, which was
an important document outlining state and social security policies in the aftermath of
World War II in Britain. Beveridge has sometimes been credited as the father of the
welfare state in Britain (Beveridge 1942, 1944; see also Englander 1994).
â•‡ 2 This is an extensive literature. See among: others Levely 2013; Söderström 2013b;
Kaplan and Nussio 2013; Roll 2013; Özerdem 2012; Munive and Jakobsen 2012;
Nussio 2011; Banholzer 2010; Denissen 2010; Department of Peacekeeping Operations
2010; Bøås and Bjørkhaug 2010; Maclay and Özerdem 2010; Torjesen and Mac-
farlane 2009; Vines and Oruitemeka 2009; Muggah 2009; Annan and Patel 2009;
Berdal and Ucko 2009; Jennings 2008; Mitton 2008; Knight 2008; Bøås and Hatløy
2008; Pugel 2007; Humphreys and Weinstein 2007; Jennings 2007; Porto et al. 2007;
Torjesen and MacFarlane 2007; Anaya 2007; Guáqueta 2007; Borzello 2007; Gamba
2006; Baaré 2006; Williamson 2006; Metsola 2006; Muggah 2005; Utas 2005a; Nils-
son 2005; Weinstein and Humphreys 2005; Humphreys and Weinstein 2004; Knight
and Özerdem 2004; Muggah 2004; Alden 2002; Kingma 2002; Mazarire and Rupiya
2000; Colletta et al. 1996; Spear 2002; Nussio and Oppenheim Manuscript under
review.
â•‡ 3 An overview of DDR programs in the world during 2007 revealed that this was an
ongoing process in 19 different countries: Aceh (Indonesia), Afghanistan, Angola,
Burundi, the Central African Republic, Chad, Colombia, Côte d’Ivoire, the Democratic
Republic of the Congo, Eritrea, Haiti, Liberia, Nepal, Niger, the Republic of Congo,
Rwanda, Somalia, Sudan and Uganda (Caramés and Sanz 2008).
â•‡ 4 Similarly, child soldiers are often cast in one particular role as well (for a critique of
this see Macmillan 2009).
â•‡ 5 The inclusion of the prefix ‘re’ in political reintegration is problematic. It suggests that
the concept refers to a process of returning to pre-war levels of something, especially
in relation to individual ex-combatants. Others (researchers and policy makers alike)
have noted the absurdity of such a view, as many combatants were too young pre-war
to have any recollection of politics, and because society itself has changed over the
course of the conflict (see e.g. Kingma 2002, p. 183; Mitton 2009, p. 175; Maclay and
Özerdem 2010, p. 345; Baaré 2006, p. 22f; UN DDR Resource Centre 2006, pp. 1, 3;
McMullin 2013a; Hardgrove 2012, p. 75). The prefix also alludes to the idea that the
combatants have departed from legitimate realms, and that the process is about bring-
ing them back to something normal and legitimate (see e.g. Bøås and Bjørkhaug 2010).
Another question is if returning to pre-war types of politics is desirable, as it may often
have been quite exclusionary (and undemocratic) and in fact fed the conflict itself.
Hence there is a large agreement in the literature that the term reintegration is a misno-
mer, and generally integration is the appropriate term. However, as the praxis within
the field is to refer to reintegration, this book will also use this terminology. Similarly,
in the literature on veterans, the term reintegration is also applied and sometimes re-
adjustment is also used. The idea conveyed is simply the transition from the state of
war, and active duty in the army or armed group, to the state of peace; the state of war
is therefore portrayed as the atypical state of things.
â•‡ 6 Often political reintegration is assumed to be an additive bonus of socioeconomic rein-
tegration. Yet, political reintegration does not have to be the automatic outcome, if
socioeconomic reintegration is successful. The relationship between social, economic
and political reintegration is more complicated than that, with different explanations
and asymmetric interrelations. The argument presented here is not that economic and
financial concerns are completely separate from political choices among ex-combatants
(and when the interconnectedness between economic and political spheres matter for
political choices this will be highlighted in the book), only that political reintegration
has been neglected and deserving of exclusive attention.
â•‡ 7 A typical example is the title of the edited volume by De Zeeuw which mixes all three
units of analysis: From Soldiers to Politicians: Transforming Rebel Movements After
Civil War (De Zeeuw 2007).
â•‡ 8 The political reintegration of the military elite, armed groups and individual combat-
ants can feed in to what Lyons has discussed as the demilitarization of politics, namely
“building norms and institutions that bridge the structures of wartime based on vio-
lence, predation and fear […] to arrangements based on security and trust that can
sustain peace and democracy” (Lyons 2004, p. 38). Lyons’ idea of demilitarizing poli-
tics, however, suggests a more extensive shift in society as a whole.
â•‡ 9 Herz notes that of the 12,753,000 that originally were registered for denazification,
9,073,000 could never be formally charged. Of those that remained, 2,373,000 were
given amnesties without trial and 836,000 were formally tried by the end of April 1948.
Among those that faced trial, 10.7 percent were convicted as lesser offenders, 2.1 per-
cent as offenders and only 0.1 percent as major offenders (Herz 1948, p. 577).
10 The term political involvement has been used elsewhere as well, with slightly differ-
ent connotations (Campbell et al. 1960, pp. 101–7; Robinson et al. 1969, pp. 456–8;
Campbell 1962).
11 Voting, while often seen as the archetypal democratic expression of participation, is
not necessarily always so, especially as elections in these regimes need not be fully
democratic (see e.g. Söderberg Kovacs 2008, p. 142; Mitton 2009, p. 191; Christensen
and Utas 2008, pp. 528–36; Schaffer 1998, pp. 88–9, 106, 128–9, 131; Young 1993).
Also, the usage of violence in politics cannot always be equated with war per se, and
should perhaps more often be seen as one way of expressing political voice (see also
Zahar 2006, pp. 33–8; Barnes and Kaase 1979, p. 38).
12 The investigation of the ex-combatants’ relation with politics focuses on self-reported
anticipated behavior, political choices and reasoning as well as values; this is important
because such orientations structure ensuing behavior. Stating that there is a link between
political culture and behavior does not imply a deterministic relationship – dissonance
between values and behavior is certainly possible. It is also possible that causality
runs both ways, i.e. behavior affects values, and values affect behavior (Almond 1990,
p. 144f). Yet values, attitudes, norms and self-reported anticipated behavior provide
important and strong cues about ensuing political behavior (see among others Dahl
1971, p. 125f; Schlemmer 1999, p. 283; Eyal et al. 2009, pp. 35f, 39; Barnes and Kaase
1979, p. 61; Sullivan and Transue 1999).
References
Aguswandi, Wolfram Zunzer. 2008. “From Politics to Arms to Politics Again: The Tran-
sition of the Gerakan-Acheh Merdeke (Free Aceh Movement – GAM).” Berghof
Transitions Series No. 5. Berlin: Berghof Research Centre for Constructive Conflict
Management.
Alden, Chris. 2002. “Making Old Soldiers Fade Away: Lessons from the Reintegration of
Demobilized Soldiers in Mozambique.” Security Dialogue 33(3): 341–56.
Allport, Alan. 2009. Demobbed: Coming home after the Second World War. New Haven:
Yale University Press.
Almond, Gabriel Abraham. 1990. “The Study of Political Culture.” In A Discipline Divided,
pp. 138–55. New York: Sage.
Anaya, Liliana. 2007. “Individual demobilization and reintegration process in Colombia: imple-
mentation, challenges and former combatants’ perspectives.” Intervention 5(3): 179–90.
Annan, Jeannie, and Ana Cutter Patel. 2009. “Critical Issues and Lessons in Social Reinte-
gration: Balancing Justice, Psychological Well Being, and Community Reconciliation.”
Cartagena: International Disarmament Demobilization & Reintegration Congress.
Arnson, Cynthia J., and Dinorah Azpuru. 2003. “From Peace to Democratization: Lessons
from Central America.” In Contemporary Peacemaking: Conflict, Violence and Peace
Processes, eds. J. Darby and R. Mac Ginty, pp. 197–211. New York: Palgrave Macmillan.
Baaré, Anton. 2006. “An Analysis of Transitional Reintegration.” In Stockholm Initiative
on Disarmament Demobilisation Reintegration: Background Studies, ed. Ministry for
Foreign Affairs, pp. 17–53. Stockholm: The Swedish Government Offices.
Banholzer, Lilli. 2010. “The Effect of Reintegration Programs on Child Soldiers.” Paper
presented at ISA Annual Convention, February 17–20, New Orleans.
Barnes, Samuel H., and Max Kaase. 1979. Political Action: Mass Participation in Five
Western Democracies. Beverly Hills: Sage Publications.
Berdal, Mats R., and David H. Ucko. 2009. Reintegrating Armed Groups After Conflict:
Politics, violence and transition. Abingdon and New York: Routledge.
Beveridge, Sir William. 1942. “Social Insurance and Allied Services.” London: His
Majesty’s Stationery Office. CMND 6404.
———. 1944. Full employment in a free society: a report. London: Allen & Unwin.
Blattman, Christopher. 2009. “From Violence to Voting: War and Political Participation in
Uganda.” American Political Science Review 103(2): 231–47.
Bøås, Morten. 2010. “Liberia 2010 – på vei mot en ny æra, eller bara litt mindre av det
samme?” Internasjonal Politikk 68(2): 261–73.
———. 2013. “Youth agency in the ‘violent life-worlds’ of Kono District (Sierra Leone),
Voinjama (Liberia) and Northern Mali: ‘tactics’ and imaginaries.” Conflict, Security &
Development 13(5): 611–30.
Bøås, Morten, and Ingunn Bjørkhaug. 2010. “DDRed in Liberia: Youth Remarginalisation
or Reintegration?” MICROCON Research Working Paper (28).
Bøås, Morten, and Anne Hatløy. 2008. “‘Getting in, getting out’: militia membership and
prospects for re-integration in post-war Liberia.” Journal of Modern African Studies
46(1): 33–55.
Bolten, Catherine. 2012. “‘We Have Been Sensitized’: Ex-Combatants, Marginalization,
and Youth in Postwar Sierra Leone.” American Anthropologist 114(3): 496–508.
Borzello, Anna. 2007. “The challenge of DDR in Northern Uganda: The Lord’s Resistance
Army.” Conflict, Security & Development 7(3): 387–415.
Bratton, Michael. 2006. “Poor People and Democratic Citizenship.” Afrobarometer Work-
ing Papers (56).
Bratton, Michael, and Beatrice Liatto-Katundu. 1994. “A Focus Group Assessment of
Political Attitudes in Zambia.” African Affairs 93(373): 535–63.
Campbell, Angus. 1962. “The Passive Citizen.” Acta Sociologica 6(1/2): 9–21.
Campbell, Angus, Philip E. Converse, Warren E. Miller, and Donald Stokes. 1960. The
American voter. New York: Wiley.
Caramés, Albert, and Eneko Sanz. 2008. “DDR 2008. Analysis of Disarmament, Demobi-
lization and Reintegration (DDR) programmes in the World during 2007.” Bellaterra:
School for a Culture of Peace.
———. 2009. “DDR 2009. Analysis of Disarmament, Demobilisation and Reintegration
(DDR) Programmes in the World during 2008.” Bellaterra: School for a Culture of Peace.
Caramés, Albert, Vicenç Fisas, and Daniel Luz. 2006. “Analysis of Disarmament, Demo-
bilisation and Reintegration (DDR) programmes existing in the world during 2005.”
Bellaterra: School for a Culture of Peace.
Caramés, Albert, Vicenç Fisas, and Eneko Sanz. 2007. “Analysis of the Disarmament,
Demobilisation and Reintegration (DDR) programs existing in the world during 2006.”
Bellaterra: School for a Culture of Peace.
Christensen, Maya M., and Mats Utas. 2008. “Mercenaries of democracy: The ‘Politricks’
of remobilized combatants in the 2007 general elections, Sierra Leone.” African Affairs
107(429): 515–39.
Colletta, Nat J., Markus Kostner, and Ingo Wiederhofer. 1996. Case Studies in War-to-
Peace Transition: The Demobilization and Reintegration of Ex-Combatants in Ethiopia,
Namibia, and Uganda. Washington, DC: The World Bank.
Collier, Paul. 1994. “Demobilization and insecurity: A study in the economics of the transition
from war to peace.” Journal of International Development 6(3): 343–51.
———. 2000. “Rebellion as a quasi-criminal activity.” Journal of Conflict Resolution
44(6): 839–53.
Coulter, Chris. 2006. Being a Bush Wife: Women’s Lives Through War and Peace in
Northern Sierra Leone. Department of Cultural Anthropology and Ethnology, Uppsala
University, Uppsala.
Dahl, Robert A. 1971. Polyarchy: Participation and Opposition. New Haven and London:
Darby, John. 2006. Violence and reconstruction. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press.
Darby, John, and Roger Mac Ginty. 2003. Contemporary peacemaking: conflict, violence
and peace processes. New York: Palgrave Macmillan.
De Zeeuw, Jeroen, ed. 2007. From Soldiers to Politicians: Transforming Rebel Movements
After Civil War: Lynne Rienner Publishers.
Dean, Eric T. 1992. “The Myth of the Troubled and Scorned Vietnam Veteran.” Journal of
American Studies 26(1): 59–74.
Denissen, Marieke. 2010. “Reintegrating Ex-Combatants into Civilian Life: The Case of
the Paramilitaries in Colombia.” Peace & Change 35(2): 328–52.
Department of Peacekeeping Operations. 2010. “Second Generation Disarmament, Demo-
bilization and Reintegration (DDR): Practices in Peace Operations.” New York: UN.
Diamint, Rut. 2003. “The Military.” In Constructing democratic governance in Latin
America, eds. J. I. Domínguez and M. Shifter, pp. 43–73. Baltimore, MD: The Johns
Hopkins University Press.
Diamond, Larry. 1999. Developing Democracy: Toward Consolidation. Baltimore and
London: The Johns Hopkins University Press.
Edinger, Lewis J. 1960. “Post-Totalitarian Leadership: Elites in The German Federal
Republic.” The American Political Science Review 54(1): 58–82.
Ellis, Stephen. 2007. The Mask of Anarchy. The Destruction of Liberia and the Religious
Dimension of an African Civil War. Second edn. New York: New York University Press.
Engelstad, Fredrik. 2007. “Introduction: Social and Political Elites in Modern Democ-
racies.” In Comparative studies of social and political elites, eds. F. Engelstad and
T. Gulbrandsen, pp. 1–9. Amsterdam: JAI Press.
Englander, David. 1994. “Soldiers and Social Reform in the First and Second World Wars.”
Historical Research 67(164): 318–26.
Englander, David, and James Osborne. 1978. “Jack, Tommy and Henry Dubb: The Armed
Forces and the Working Class.” Historical Journal 21(3): 593–621.
Eyal, Tal, Michael D. Sagristano, Yaacov Trope, Nira Liberman, and Shelly Chaiken. 2009.
“When values matter: Expressing values in behavioral intentions for the near vs. distant
future.” Journal of Experimental Social Psychology 45(1): 35–43.
Fine, Gary Alan, and Brooke Harrington. 2004. “Tiny Publics: Small Groups and Civil
Society.” Sociological Theory 22(3): 341–56.
Finkel, Steven E., Lee Sigelman, and Stan Humphries. 1999. “Democratic Values and
Political Tolerance.” In Measures of Political Attitudes, eds. J. P. Robinson, P. R. Shaver
and L. S. Wrightsman, pp. 203–96. San Diego: Academic Press.
Fuest, Veronica. 2008. “‘This is the time to get in front’: Changing roles and opportunities
for women in Liberia.” African Affairs 107(427): 201–24.
Fujii, Lee Ann. 2010. “Shades of truth and lies: Interpreting testimonies of war and vio-
lence.” Journal of Peace Research 47(2): 231–41.
Gamba, Virginia. 2006. “Post-Agreement Demobilization, Disarmament, and Reinte-
gration: Toward a New Approach.” In Violence and Reconstruction, ed. J. Darby,
pp. 53–75. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press.
García Durán, Mauricio, Vera Grabe Loewenherz, and Otty Patiño Hormaza. 2008. “The
M-19’s Journey from Armed Struggle to Democratic Politics.” Berghof Transitions
Series No. 1. Berlin: Berghof Research Centre for Constructive Conflict Management.
Giugni, Marco G. 2004. “Personal and Biographical Consequences.” In The Blackwell
Companion to Social Movements, eds. D. A. Snow, S. A. Soule and H. Kriesi, pp.
489–505. Malden: Blackwell Publishing.
Giustozzi, Antonio. 2009. “Bureaucratic façade and political realities of disarmament and
demobilisation in Afghanistan.” In Reintegrating Armed Groups After Conflict: Poli-
tics, violence and transition, eds. M. R. Berdal and D. H. Ucko, pp. 67–88. London and
New York: Routledge.
Greenstein, Lewis J. 1978. “Impact of Military Service in World-War-I on Africans – Nandi
of Kenya.” Journal of Modern African Studies 16(3): 495–507.
Guáqueta, Alexandra. 2007. “The way back in: Reintegrating illegal armed groups in
Colombia then and now.” Conflict, Security & Development 7(3): 417–56.
———. 2009. “The way back in: Reintegrating illegal armed groups in Colombia then and
now.” In Reintegrating Armed Groups After Conflict: Politics, violence and transition,
eds. M. R. Berdal and D. H. Ucko, pp. 10–46. London and New York: Routledge.
Hadjipavlou, Maria. 2007. “The Cyprus Conflict: Root Causes and Implications for Peace-
building.” Journal of Peace Research 44(3): 349–65.
Hardgrove, Abby V. 2012. Life after Guns: The Life Chances and Trajectories of
Ex-Combatant and Other Post-War Youth in Monrovia, Liberia. Department of InterÂ�
national Development, University of Oxford.
Harris, David. 1999. “From ‘warlord’ to ‘democratic’ president: how Charles Taylor won
the 1997 Liberian elections.” The Journal of Modern African Studies 37(3): 431–55.
Herz, John H. 1948. “The Fiasco of Denazification in Germany.” Political Science Quar-
terly 63(4): 569–94.
Higley, John, and Michael G. Burton. 1989. “The Elite Variable in Democratic Transitions
and Breakdowns.” American Sociological Review 54(1): 17–32.
Hoffman, Danny. 2006. “Disagreement: Dissent Politics and the War in Sierra Leone.”
Africa Today 52(3): 3–22.
Högbladh, Stina. 2012. “Peace agreements 1975–2011 – Updating the UCDP Peace Agree-
ment dataset.” In States in Armed Conflict 2011, eds. T. Pettersson and L. Themnér.
Uppsala University, Department of Peace and Conflict Research.
Humphreys, Macartan, and Jeremy M. Weinstein. 2004. “What the Fighters Say: A Survey
of Ex-Combatants in Sierra Leone June–August 2003.” Columbia University, Stanford
University and PRIDE.
———. 2007. “Demobilization and Reintegration.” Journal of Conflict Resolution 51(4):
531–67.
———. 2008. “Who fights? The determinants of participation in civil war.” American
Journal of Political Science 52(2): 436–55.
———. 2009. “Demobilization and reintegration in Sierra Leone: assessing progress.” In
Security and Post-Conflict Reconstruction: Dealing with Fighters in the Aftermath of
War, ed. R. Muggah, pp. 47–69. London and New York: Routledge.
Janowitz, Morris. 1964. The military in the political development of new nations: an essay
in comparative analysis. Chicago: Chicago University Press.
Jarstad, Anna. 2006. “Dilemmas of War-to-Democracy Transitions.” Paper presented at
State, Conflict and Democracy, May 12–13, Lund University.
Jennings, Kathleen M. 2007. “The Struggle to Satisfy: DDR Through the Eyes of Ex-
combatants in Liberia.” International Peacekeeping 14(2): 204–18.
———. 2008. “Unclear ends, unclear means: Reintegration in postwar societies – The case
of Liberia.” Global Governance 14(3): 327–45.
Käihkö, Ilmari. 2012. “Big Man bargaining in African conflicts.” In African Conflicts and
Informal Power: Big Men and Networks, ed. M. Utas, pp. 181–204. London: Zed Books.
Kantor, Ana, and Mariam Persson. 2010. “Understanding Vigilantism: Informal Security Pro-
viders and Security Sector Reform in Liberia.” Stockholm: Folke Bernadotte Academy.
Kaplan, Oliver, and Enzo Nussio. 2013. “Community Counts: The Social Reintegra-
tion of Ex-Combatants in Colombia.” Online: http://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.
cfm?abstract_id=2138188 (accessed February 22, 2014).
Kingma, Kees. 2002. “Demobilization, Reintegration and Peacebuilding in Africa.” In
Recovering from civil conflict: reconciliation, peace and development, eds. E. Newman
and A. Schnabel, pp. 181–201. London and Portland: Frank Cass.
Knight, W. Andy. 2008. “Disarmament, Demobilization, and Reintegration and Post-Con-
flict Peacebuilding in Africa: An Overview.” African Security 1(1): 24–52.
Knight, Mark, and Alpaslan Özerdem. 2004. “Guns, camps and cash: Disarmament,
demobilization and reinsertion of former combatants in transitions from war to peace.”
Journal of Peace Research 41(4): 499–516.
Knöchel Ledberg, Sofia. 2014. Governing the Military. Professional Autonomy in the Chinese
People’s Liberation Army, Department of Government, Uppsala University, Acta Univer-
sitatis Upsaliensis. Skrifter utgivna av Statsvetenskapliga föreningen i Uppsala. No. 188.
Krebs, Ronald R. 2004. “A school for the nation? How military service does not build
nations, and how it might.” International Security 28(4): 85–124.
Kymlicka, Will, and Wayne Norman. 1994. “Return of the Citizen: A survey of recent work
on citizenship theory.” Ethics 104(2): 352–381.
Laufer, Robert S. 1987. “The Serial Self: War Trauma, Identity and Adult Development.”
In Human Adaptation to Extreme Stress from the Holocaust to Vietnam, eds. Z. Harel,
B. Kahana and J. P. Wilson. New York: Putnam Books.
———. 1989. “The Aftermath of War: Adult Socialization and Political Development.”
In Political Learning in Adulthood: A Sourcebook of Theory and Research, ed.
R. S. Siegel, pp. 386–414. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press.
Levely, Ian. 2013. “Measuring Intermediate Outcomes of Liberia’s Disarmament, Demo-
bilization, Rehabilitation and Reintegration Program.” Defence and Peace Economics
25(2): 139–162.
Lyons, Terrence. 2004. “Post-conflict elections and the process of demilitarizing politics:
the role of electoral administration.” Democratization 11(3): 36–62.
McKay, Susan. 2004. “Reconstructing Fragile Lives: Girls’ Social Reintegration in North-
ern Uganda and Sierra Leone.” Gender and Development 12(3): 19–30.
Maclay, Christopher, and Alpaslan Özerdem. 2010. “‘Use’ Them or ‘Lose’ Them: Engag-
ing Liberia’s Disconnected Youth through Socio-political Integration.” International
Peacekeeping 17(3): 343–60.
Macmillan, Lorraine. 2009. “The Child Soldier in North-South Relations.” International
Political Sociology 3(1): 36–52.
McMullin, Jaremey R. 2013a. Ex-Combatants and the Post-Conflict State. Challenges of
Reintegration. New York: Palgrave Macmillan.
———. 2013b. “Integration or separation? The stigmatisation of ex-combatants after war.”
Review of International Studies 39(2): 385–414.
Maharaj, Mac. 2008. “The ANC and South Africa’s Negotiated Transition to Democracy
and Peace.” Berghof Transitions Series No. 2. Berlin: Berghof Research Centre for
Constructive Conflict Management.
Marås Sindre, Gyda. 2011. Rebel Politics and the Politics of Peace. Department of Politi-
cal Science, University of Oslo.
———. 2013. “Internal party democracy in former rebel parties.” Paper presented at the
Second Nordic Conference for Development Research: “Knowing Development –
Developing Knowledge?”, November 14–15, Helsinki.
———. Manuscript under review. “Patronage politics in former rebel parties.” Department
of Comparative Politics, University of Bergen.
Marriage, Zoë. 2009. “Flip-flop rebel, dollar soldier: demobilisation in the Democratic Republic
of Congo.” In Reintegrating Armed Groups After Conflict: Politics, violence and transition,
eds. M. R. Berdal and D. H. Ucko, pp. 119–43. London and New York: Routledge.
Mayzel, Matitiahu. 1979. Generals and Revolutionaries. The Russian General Staff Dur-
ing the Revolution: A Study in the Transformation of Military Elite. Osnabrück: Biblio
Verlag.
Mazarire, Gerald, and Martin Rupiya. 2000. “Two Wrongs Do Not Make a Right: A Critical
Assessment of Zimbabwe’s Demobilization and Reintegration Programme.” Journal of
Peace, Conflict and Military Studies 1(1).
Metsola, Lalli. 2006. “‘Reintegration’ of ex-combatants and Former Fighters: a lens into
state formation and citizenship in Namibia.” Third World Quarterly 27(6): 1119–35.
Mitton, Kieran. 2008. “Engaging disengagement: The political reintegration of Sierra Leone’s
Revolutionary United Front.” Conflict, Security & Development 8(2): 193–222.
———. 2009. “Engaging with disengagement: The political reintegration of Sierra Leone’s
Revolutionary United Front.” In Reintegrating Armed Groups After Conflict: Politics,
violence and transition, eds. M. R. Berdal and D. H. Ucko, pp. 172–98. London and
New York.
Moran, Mary H. 2006. Liberia: the violence of democracy. Philadelphia: University of
Pennsylvania Press.
———. 2010. “Gender, Militarism, and Peace-Building: Projects of the Postconflict
Moment.” Annual Review of Anthropology 39: 261–74.
Muggah, Robert. 2004. “The anatomy of disarmament, demobilisation and reintegration in
the Republic of Congo.” Conflict, Security & Development 4(1): 21–37.
———. 2005. “No Magic Bullet: A Critical Perspective on Disarmament, Demobiliza-
tion and Reintegration (DDR) and Weapons Reduction in Post-conflict Contexts.” The
Round Table 94(379): 239–52.
———, ed. 2009. Security and Post-Conflict Reconstruction: Dealing with Fighters in the
Aftermath of War. London and New York: Routledge.
Muggah, Robert, Jon Bennett, Aklu Girgre, and Gebru Wolde. 2009. “Context matters in
Ethiopia: reflections on a demobilization and reintegration programme.” In Security
and Post-Conflict Reconstruction: Dealing with Fighters in the Aftermath of War, ed.
R. Muggah, pp. 190–205. London and New York: Routledge.
Mukhopadhyay, Dipali. 2014. Warlords, Strongman Governors, and the State in Afghani-
stan. New York: Cambridge University Press.
Munive, Jairo, and Stine Finne Jakobsen. 2012. “Revisiting DDR in Liberia: exploring
the power, agency and interests of local and international actors in the ‘making’ and
‘unmaking’ of combatants.” Conflict, Security & Development 12(4): 359–85.
Nilsson, R. Anders. 2005. Reintegrating Ex-Combatants in Post-Conflict Societies. Stock-
holm: SIDA.
———. 2008. Dangerous Liaisons. Why Ex-Combatants Return to Violence – Cases from
the Republic of Congo and Sierra Leone. Department of Peace and Conflict Research,
Uppsala University, Uppsala.
Nindorera, Willy. 2012. “The CNDD-FDD in Burundi: The path from armed to political
struggle.” Berghof Transitions Series No. 10. Berlin: Berghof Research Centre for Con-
structive Conflict Management.
Nussio, Enzo. 2011. Understanding Ex-Combatants: Central Themes in the Lives of
Former Paramilitaries in Colombia. Graduate School of Business Administration, Eco-
nomics, Law and Social Sciences (HSG), University of St. Gallen, St. Gallen.
Nussio, Enzo, and Oppenheim. Manuscript under review. “Trusting the Enemy: Confi-
dence in the State among Ex-Combatants.”
Özerdem, Alpaslan. 2003. “From a ‘Terrorist’ Group to a ‘Civil Defence’ Corps: The ‘Trans-
formation’ of the Kosovo Liberation Army.” International Peacekeeping 10(3): 79–101.
———. 2010. “Social Reintegration of Former Combatants: a re-conceptualisation.” Paper
presented at ISA Annual Convention, February 17–20, New Orleans.
———. 2012. “A re-conceptualisation of ex-combatant reintegration: ‘social reintegration’
approach.” Conflict, Security & Development 12(1): 51–73.
Philip, George. 2003. Democracy in Latin America : surviving conflict and crisis? Cam-
bridge: Polity.
Podder, Sukanya. 2010. “Community and the Social Reintegration of Child Soldiers in
Liberia.” Paper presented at the ISA Annual Convention, February 17–20, New Orleans.
Porto, J. Gomes, Imogen Parsons, and Chris Alden. 2007. From Soldiers to Citizens: The
Social, Economic and Political Reintegration of UNITA Ex-Combatants. Pretoria: Insti-
tute for Security Studies.
Potsdam Agreement. 1946. Report on the Tripartite Conference of Berlin, August 2. Cited
in (Report of the Military Governor 1948), p. 40.
Pouligny, Béatrice. 2004. “The Politics and Anti-Politics of Contemporary ‘Disarmament,
Demobilization & Reintegration’ Programs.” CERI, SGDN and Programme for Strate-
gic and International Security Studies.
Pugel, James. 2007. “What the Fighters Say: A Survey of Ex-Combatants in Liberia
February–March 2006.” Monrovia: UNDP.
———. 2009. “Measuring reintegration in Liberia: assessing the gap between outputs and
outcomes.” In Security and Post-Conflict Reconstruction: Dealing with Fighters in the
Aftermath of War, ed. R. Muggah, pp. 70–102. London and New York: Routledge.
Remy, Steven P. 2002. The Heidelberg Myth: the Nazification and Denazification of a Ger-
man university. Cambridge: Harvard University Press.
Reno, William. 1998. Warlord Politics and African States. London: Lynne Rienner Pub-
lishers.
Report of the Military Governor. 1948. “Denazification.” Office of the Military Govern-
ment for Germany (U.S.).
Robinson, John P., Jerrold G. Rusk, and Kendra B. Head. 1969. Measures of political atti-
tudes. Ann Arbor: Survey Research Center, Institute for Social Research.
Roll, Kate C. 2013. “Arguing for Care: The Explosive Growth of Reintegration Pro-
grammes in Timor-Leste.” Paper presented at the Second Nordic Conference for
Development Research: “Knowing Development – Developing Knowledge?”, Novem-
ber 14–15, Helsinki.
Schafer, Jessica. 1998. “‘A baby who does not cry will not be suckled’: AMODEG and the
reintegration of demobilised soldiers.” Journal of Southern African Studies 24(1): 207–22.
———. 2007. Soldiers at Peace: Veterans and Society After the Civil War in Mozambique.
Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan.
Schaffer, Fredric C. 1998. Democracy in Translation: understanding politics in an unfa-
miliar culture. Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press.
Schlemmer, Lawrence. 1999. “Democracy or Democratic Hegemony: The Future of Politi-
cal Pluralism in South Africa.” In The Awkward Embrace: One-party domination and
democracy, eds. H. Giliomee and C. Simkins, pp. 281–300. Amsterdam and Cape
Town: Harwood Academic Publishers.
Seawright, Jason. 2007. “Political Elites and Party-System Vulnerability.” Paper present to the
Annual Meeting of the Midwest Political Science Association, Chicago, IL, April 12–15.
Secher, H. P. 1965. “Controlling the New German Military Elite: The Political Role of
the Parliamentary Defense Commissioner in the Federal Republic.” Proceedings of the
American Philosophical Society 109(2): 63–84.
Siegel, Roberta S., ed. 1989. Political Learning in Adulthood: A Sourcebook of Theory and
Research. Chicago: the University of Chicago Press.
Söderberg Kovacs, Mimmi. 2007. From Rebellion to Politics: The Transformation of Rebel
Groups to Political Parties in Civil War Peace Processes. Department of Peace and
Conflict Research, Uppsala University, Uppsala.
———. 2008. “When rebels change their stripes: armed insurgents in post-war politics.”
In From War to Democracy: Dilemmas of Peacebuilding, eds. A. K. Jarstad and
T. D. Sisk, pp. 134–56. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Söderström, Johanna. 2013a. “The concept of Political Reintegration in current peace
research.” Department of Government, Working Paper Series (5).
———. 2013b. “The Political Consequences of Reintegration Programmes in Current Peace-
building: A Framework for Analysis.” Conflict, Security & Development 13(1): 87–116.
Spear, Joanna. 2002. “Disarmament and Demobilization.” In Ending civil wars: The imple-
mentation of peace agreements, eds. S. J. Stedman, D. Rothchild and E. M. Cousens,
pp. 141–82. Boulder: Lynne Rienner Publishers.
Stedman, Stephen John. 1997. “Spoiler problems in peace processes.” International Security
22(2): 5–53.
Sullivan, John L., and John E. Transue. 1999. “The Psychological Underpinnings of
Democracy: A Selective Review of Research on Political Tolerance, Interpersonal
Trust, and Social Capital.” Annual Review of Psychology 50: 625–50.
Teigen, Jeremy M. 2006. “Enduring effects of the uniform: Previous military experience
and voting turnout.” Political Research Quarterly 59(4): 601–7.
Themnér, Anders. 2012. “Former mid-level commanders in Big Man networks.” In Afri-
can Conflicts and Informal Power: Big Men and Networks, ed. M. Utas, pp. 205–23.
London: Zed Books.
———, ed. Forthcoming. Warlord Democrats in Africa: The Security Effects of Integrat-
ing Ex-Military Leaders into Electoral Politics. London: Zed Books.
Torjesen, Stina, and S. Neil MacFarlane. 2007. “R before D: the case of post conflict rein-
tegration in Tajikistan.” Conflict, Security & Development 7(2): 311–32.
———. 2009. “Reintegrating before disarmament: the case of post-conflict reintegration in
Tajikistan.” In Reintegrating Armed Groups After Conflict: Politics, violence and transi-
tion, eds. M. R. Berdal and D. H. Ucko, pp. 47–66. London and New York: Routledge.
Toure, Augustine. 2002. The Role of Civil Society in National Reconciliation and Peace-
building in Liberia. New York: International Peace Academy.
Ucko, David H. 2009. “Militias, tribes and insurgents: the challenge of political reinte-
gration in Iraq.” In Reintegrating Armed Groups After Conflict: Politics, violence and
transition, eds. M. R. Berdal and D. H. Ucko, pp. 89–118. London and New York:
Routledge.
UN DDR Resource Centre. 2006. “Integrated Disarmament, Demobilization and Reinte-
gration Standards (IDDRS)”.
UNDP. 2005. “Liberia Disarmament, Demobilisation, Reintegration and Rehabilitation
Programme: Draft Trust Fund Activity Report.” Volume II.
Utas, Mats. 2003. Sweet Battlefields. Youth and the Liberian Civil War, Cultural Anthro-
pology, Uppsala University, Uppsala.
———. 2005a. “Building a Future? The Reintegration and Re-marginalisation of Youth in
Liberia.” In No Peace, No War: an anthropology of contemporary armed conflicts, eds.
P. Richards and B. Helander, pp. 137–54. Oxford and Athens: Ohio University Press
and James Currey.
———. 2005b. “Victimcy, Girlfriending, Soldiering: Tactic Agency in a Young Woman’s
Social Navigation of the Liberian War Zone.” Anthropological Quarterly 78(2): 403–30.
———, ed. 2012. African Conflicts and Informal Power: Big Men and Networks. London:
Zed Books.
———. 2013. Generals for good? Do-good generals and the structural endurance of wartime
networks. Online: http://matsutas.wordpress.com/2013/05/ (accessed August 2, 2013).
Verba, Sidney, Norman H. Nie, and Jae-on Kim. 1978. Participation and Political Equality:
A Seven-Nation Comparison. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press.
Vines, Alex, and Bereni Oruitemeka. 2009. “Beyond bullets and ballots: the reintegration
of UNITA in Angola.” In Reintegrating Armed Groups After Conflict: Politics, violence
and transition, eds. M. R. Berdal and D. H. Ucko, pp. 199–223. London &and New
York: Routledge.
Waller, Willard. 1944. The Veteran Comes Back. New York: The Dryden Press.
Walter, Barbara F. 2004. “Does conflict beget conflict? Explaining recurring civil war.”
Weaver, Jerry L. 1969. “Political Style of the Guatemalan military elite.” Studies in
Comparative International Development 5(4): 63–81.
Weinstein, Jeremy M., and Macartan Humphreys. 2005. “Disentangling the Determinants
of Successful Demobilization and Reintegration.” Center for Global Development,
Working Paper (69).
West, Harry G. 2000. “Girls with Guns: Narrating the Experience of War of FRELIMO’s
‘Female Detachment’.” Anthropological Quarterly 73(4): 180–94.
Williamson, John. 2006. “The disarmament, demobilization and reintegration of child
soldiers: social and psychological transformation in Sierra Leone.” Intervention 4(3):
185–205.
Wolf, Sonja. 2009. “Subverting Democracy: Elite Rule and the Limits to Political Par-
ticipation in Post-War El Salvador.” Journal of Latin American Studies 41(3): 429–65.
Young, Tom. 1993. “Elections and Electoral Politics in Africa.” Africa: Journal of the
International African Institute 63(3): 299–312.
Zahar, Marie-Jöelle. 2006. “Political Violence in Peace Processes: Voice, Exit, and Loyalty
in the Post-Accord Period.” In Violence and reconstruction, ed. J. Darby, pp. 33–51.
Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press.
2 The case and methodology
Before embarking on a description of the political culture among ex-combatants

in Liberia, the Liberian case needs to be situated somewhat and the methodology
used for collecting the data needs to be described and discussed. This chapter
therefore starts with an introduction to the civil war in Liberia and some of the
political developments after the conflict, before continuing with a description of
the data collection which mainly relied on focus group interviews.
Liberia and the civil war

This section is not meant to give a complete account of the war or the peace-
building process as a whole, nor other political developments since the end
of the war in Liberia. The following should be read as an introduction only
to the Liberian case (for a fuller account of this, see e.g. Levitt 2005; Moran
2006; Ellis 2007; Utas 2003; see also Truth and Reconciliation Commission –
Republic of Liberia 2009; Lyons 1999; Bøås 2005). In the remaining chapters,
certain specific historical events or aspects are also discussed in order to jux-
tapose them with specific aspects of how the ex-combatants relate to politics
today, thereby enabling a deeper contextual understanding of the ex-combatants’
reading of politics.
Levitt’s account of Liberia’s conflict history (Levitt 2005) suggests that it
has been a highly militarized society for a long time. Similarly, anthropological
work in Liberia has made similar claims (Utas 2003, p. 85; Moran 2006, p. 151;
Utas 2009). Moran, in particular, suggests that “violence and democracy are not
conceptually opposed in Liberian political discourse but are aspects of the same
understanding of legitimacy” (Moran 2006, p. 6). In contrast, Levitt argues that
what he considers to be an absence of a democratic political culture in Liberia is
one of the underlying sources of conflict in Liberia (Levitt 2005, pp. 244–7). It is
clear, however, that the history of Liberia is fraught with civil war, dating back to
before the creation of the state in 1847. The last war, sometimes named the Great
War, lasted 14 years (1989–2003), with a short respite around the elections of
1997 won by Charles Taylor (1997–1999) (Levitt 2005; Bøås and Hatløy 2008,
p. 36). While Liberia’s history clearly conditions current developments, it is wrong
to assume that Liberia is completely bound by it.
30â•… The case and methodology
Estimating the impact of the civil war, in terms of both human and financial
costs, is a difficult task. While it is difficult to compare the gravity of the war in
Liberia with other conflicts, the relatively small population of Liberia during the
war (approximately 2.1 million in 1984 and 3.5 million in 2008 (Liberia Institute
of Statistics and Geo-Information Services (LISGIS) 2009b, p. 5), would at least
suggest that the war deeply affected Liberian society. However, figures on war
casualties are notoriously unreliable and difficult to collect. The civil war in Libe-
ria is sometimes estimated to have caused the death of about 250,000 to 270,000
people, where most (about 200,000) were killed during the first part of the war.
About 850,000 people became refugees and around 500,000 people became inter-
nally displaced within the country (Security Council 2003, p. 6; UNDP 2006,
pp. 4, 42; Jaye 2009, p. 5). More recent estimates of the total number of lives
lost due to the war from the United Nations note a smaller estimate of 150,000
(the estimate is however indeterminate as to whether it refers to the entire war
or only the first part) (UNMIL No date). In contrast, using data collected by the
Uppsala Conflict Data Program, which focus on deaths directly caused by the
conflict, using more restrictive criteria for data compilation and confirmation,
returns even smaller estimates. This data indicate the low estimates for the total
number of battle related deaths at 2,909 (high estimate 4,207) (Uppsala Conflict
Data Program 2013a); fatalities due to one-sided violence 17,141 (high estimate
18,795) (Uppsala Conflict Data Program 2013c); and fatalities due to violence
between non-state actors 1,353 (high estimate 5,684) (Uppsala Conflict Data Pro-
gram 2013b); resulting in a total of 21,403 deaths (high estimate 28,686). Another
explanation as to why the estimates of the total number of fatalities based on the
Uppsala Conflict Data Program are much lower than the estimates of the deaths
caused by the conflict as a whole, is that these estimates are limited to fatalities
directly caused by violence. Another reason for the lower estimates is that fatali-
ties due to violence between ECOMOG and other armed groups are not covered
by these datasets from the Uppsala Conflict Data Program.1
Broadening the way the impact of the war on Liberia is described, some esti-
mates indicate that about 60–70 percent of the population endured some form of
sexual assault during the war (Jaye 2009, p. 5), whereas other data indicate that
only 8 percent experienced sexual violence (Vinck et al. 2011, p. 35; for additional
descriptions of types and extent of violations, also see Truth and Reconciliation
Commission – Republic of Liberia 2009, pp. 213–67; Cibelli et al. 2009,
pp. 24–36). In a survey from 2010, 47 percent had witnessed a killing during the war,
and 75 percent lost a friend during the war (Vinck et al. 2011, p. 35). Using the
Afrobarometer survey (2008), it is estimated that 85.9 percent had experienced
the loss of a family member due to the conflict. Estimates indicate that about
15,000 to 20,000 of the combatants were child combatants (Jaye 2009, p. 7), and
estimations of female combatants during the war are even more unreliable, with
rates between 2 and 24 percent being noted (Fuest 2008, p. 210; Vinck et al. 2011;
Bugnion et al. 2006, p. 30; Paes 2005; Moran 2012). However, the Truth and Rec-
onciliation Commission noted that “the conflict in Liberia produced the highest
number of female perpetrators in comparisons to civil conflicts in other parts of
The case and methodologyâ•…31
the world” (Truth and Reconciliation Commission – Republic of Liberia 2009,
p. 69), although not offering any supportive evidence of this claim. Evaluating the
gravity of the Liberian civil war in contrast to other armed conflicts is therefore
rather difficult, given these sometimes rather contradictory statements about the
impact on human lives in Liberia. It should be clear, however, that the war deeply
affected Liberian society, ultimately leaving scars in the human fabric which may
be difficult to overcome.
The creation of the Liberian state was at first driven by the American Coloniza-
tion Society (ASC), who from 1821 removed free slaves from the United States to
present day Liberia. The American Colonization Society was founded in 1816 by
America’s southern aristocracy, and the project to return Africans to Liberia was
heavily cloaked in religious terms, but the goal of the ASC was “to rid the United
States of free Blacks because of the perceived threat they posed to America’s sla-
vocracy” (Levitt 2005, p. 32). Eventually the Liberian Republic was founded in
1847, and since then the Americo-Liberians have been the dominant political elite,
and up until the coup d’état in 1980 by Samuel Doe they largely controlled the
state on their own. However, recent work has shown that this dominance was not
as extensive as previously believed, but that indigenous elements were included
in government (Burrowes 2004; Moran 2012, p. 55). During Tubman’s regime
(1944–1971), relations between settlers and indigenous communities improved
(Akpan 1973, p. 236), and while the Tolbert regime (1971–1980) directly preced-
ing Doe’s coup was still an expression of the Americo-Liberian elite, it had in
part adopted an appeasement strategy vis-à-vis indigenous groups and younger
generations. However, this strategy mainly caused conflict within the oligarchy
and was not comprehensive enough to satisfy the more progressive elements in
Liberian politics. These political conflicts provided fuel for Doe’s coup, even if
the coup was largely a response to a discriminatory and repressive state that had
failed to produce economic benefits for the wider population (see Levitt 2005, pp.
191–7, for a fuller account of these events).
The Liberian civil war has some of its roots in Doe’s overthrow of the Americo-
Liberian dominated regime and ensuing ethnification of politics. While Doe tried
to rid the state of the Americo-Liberians’ influence, this was simply not possible,
partly because of their strong hold on the state’s bureaucracy and economy. Doe’s
rule became increasingly oppressive and violent. In December 1989, the National
Patriotic Front of Liberia (NPFL) with Charles Taylor attacked Doe, marking the
outbreak of the war. The Economic Community of West African States Monitor-
ing Group (ECOMOG) forces were sent to Liberia in August 1990 to intervene,
but their involvement in the conflict was far from neutral. While Doe was killed in
September the same year, the conflict continued. The progression of the war was
characterized by multiple splits within factions and the creation of new ones, in
part driven by a desire to control trade as well as seats at peace negotiations. Hence,
while NPFL defeated the Armed Forces of Liberia (AFL), new opposing forces
such as the Independent National Patriotic Front of Liberia under Prince Johnson,
the United Liberation Movement of Liberia for Democracy (ULIMO) (which later
split into Johnson and Kromah factions), the Liberia Peace Council and the Lofa
Defense Force emerged and entered the war. Multiple attempts at peace treaties
failed throughout the 1990s, but eventually in September 1996 peace accords were
signed, and Liberia proceeded to hold elections in 1997 – elections that Charles
Taylor and his party, the National Patriotic Party (NPP), won with an overwhelm-
ing majority.
Despite the elections, the security situation in Liberia quickly deteriorated, and
in June 1999 the Anti-Terrorist Unit was created under the direct control of Taylor,
and by the end of that year war raged in Liberia once again. In the latter part of the
war, Liberians United for Reconciliation and Democracy (LURD) and the Move-
ment for Democracy in Liberia (MODEL) (which emerged in early 2003) fought
Taylor, and finally reached Monrovia by July 2003.2 The Accra peace accord was
signed on August 18, 2003 as Taylor went into exile, and an interim government
was set up until elections could be held in 2005. Combatants from the three fac-
tions that dominated the later stages of the war are at the center of this study:
Charles Taylor and his troops (herein named Government of Liberia, GOL),3
LURD and MODEL. The complexity of the war and the multiple and shifting war
parties do not necessarily mean that the war was disorderly or an expression of
total anarchy (for more on this, see for instance Utas 2005b, p. 413).
Several attempts at explaining the Liberian civil war have been made, often
stressing different factors (for a critique of the war historiography, see among
others Yoder 2003, p. 12; Dolo 1996, p. 7f; Utas 2009, pp. 272, 281; Moran 2006,
pp. 7, 17, 55, 100). In particular, Ellis’ (1995, 2007) work on the Liberian war is
often questioned. Different accounts tend to stress one factor more than others.
For instance, William Reno describes and stresses the intricate economic impetus
that directed the war, where factionalism was related to control over resources, or
getting a seat at and voice in the peace talks. Reno sees Taylor’s Greater Liberia
not as a specific territory but rather as an area of economic influence, that in part
made use of the economic networks already in place in West Africa. For Reno,
the targeting of Mandingos during the war was related to an attempt to control the
diamond trade. In Reno’s account, the loss of state control over the economy and
the intricate mix between financial and military structures are central to under-
standing the Liberian war (Reno 1998, pp. 79–111).
Others would place the political culture of both the elite and the population at
large at the center of an explanation of the war (Yoder 2003, pp. 3, 12, 18, 51;
Levitt 2005, pp. 244–7; Dolo 1996, pp. 6–8). While they describe it in slightly
varying terms (Dolo for instance talks about a number of “pathologies” related to
political culture and the nature of politics in Liberia, such as nepotism and apathy
among others, whereas Yoder stresses the failure to apply a number of specific liberal
values such as tolerance), they all attribute a large part of the war’s origins and
progression to Liberian political culture. Utas has also noted a tendency among
Liberians themselves to blame the war on the supposed immorality and selfish-
ness of the Liberians (Utas 2008, p. 117f).
Another such issue of contestation is the role of ethnicity during the war. While
not everyone agrees what role ethnicity played in the genesis of the war, it is
clear that during the war things became especially polarized in relation to the
Mandingos, and faction composition sometimes reflected ethnic polarization, and
ethnic identities were used for mobilization (Bøås and Hatløy 2008, pp. 37, 41,
47; Toure 2002, p. 25; Ellis 2007, pp. 78, 104f).4 Others would claim that ethnicity
only played a limited role in the war, and was rather the outcome of other lines of
conflict rather than the origin (Utas 2008, p. 114, 2009, p. 279; Moran 2006, p. 17).
Similarly, there is also some disagreement over the extent to which religious
ideas shaped the war (see among others Ellis 1995, 2007; Moran 2006, pp. 5–7).
Finally, others claim that the war was also motivated by generational con-
flict, and a frustration with extensive patronage politics in Liberia. For instance,
Utas sees the war as an expression of a youth revolution, as a way of accessing
power, escaping Big Men, and achieving access to women and wives for young
men in Liberia (Utas 2005a, p. 140, 2008, p. 130). Moran also notes that issues
that underpinned the war are still in place: “the end of the war will not bring
an end to generational conflict” (Moran 2006, p. 154); similarly Rowlands dis-
cusses the role of gerontocratic rule in Liberia in the genesis and evolution of the
war (Rowlands 2008, p. 149). This youth revolution has also been related to the
dichotomy between social categories such as traditional versus modern, zo versus
kwii, indigenous versus settler, or native versus civilized, that has been important
for structuring Liberian society (Utas 2008, pp. 116, 119, 121; Moran 2006, p. 35;
Rowlands 2008, p. 144). Clearly, several factors came together to structure the
war in Liberia, and, as noted elsewhere, the motivations for the war as a whole
and for individual combatants joining the war shifted during the course of the war
(see e.g. Utas 2005b, p. 411).
This book is not about what motivated the young men and women of Liberia to
participate in the war, and it is important to note that diverging and multi-facetted
accounts abound. In many ways these descriptions also resonate with the overall
explanations for the war. For instance, economic motivations are noted to have
influenced participation in the war. While the war economy was quite extensive,
for most combatants participation in the war was simply a question of a relief
from poverty (Ellis 2007, pp. 127, 289; Hill et al. 2008, p. 3f). Land disputes,
often clad in issues of ethnicity, have also been noted to contribute to participation
in the war (Hill et al. 2008, p. 6). Motivations have also been described as related
to a rebellion against gerontocratic rule, where the older generations have been
seen as controlling the youth’s access to employment (Moran 2006, p. 143; Utas
2009, p. 270). In contrast, Bøås and Hatløy’s survey of ex-combatants suggests
that security concerns were the primary reason for participation, whereas unem-
ployment was as widespread amongst combatants as non-participants (Bøås and
Hatløy 2008, p. 33). Another survey of ex-combatants suggests that non-material
benefits, such as revenge, power or excitement, were anticipated by almost a third
of the sample in relation to participation (Hill et al. 2008, p. 6). Importantly, most
combatants joined freely rather than being forcibly recruited (Utas 2009, p. 270).
Also importantly, however, while individual reasons for joining the war may reso-
nate with explanations for the war as a whole, this does not mean that the cause for
the outbreak of war can be equated with the motivations of these individuals (see
also McMullin 2013, p. 202; Hardgrove 2012, p. 68).
In West Africa in general, ex-combatants have and continue to play a crucial
role in the political development of the region, partly because the conflicts have
been interrelated, with ex-combatants moving in and out of conflicts and across
porous borders (see also Nilsson 2008). The existence of ex-combatants in a
society can have long term effects on the political stability of the state. In this
sense, Liberia is not unique. However, in the case of Liberia the ex-combatants
make up a substantial group in society, about 100,0005 in a population of 3.5
million (Liberia Institute of Statistics and Geo-Information Services (LISGIS)
2009a). In a society with high levels of formal unemployment, this group also
continues to be economically marginalized. A survey of ex-combatants con-
ducted in 2007 noted that 72 percent of them were unemployed (Hill et al. 2008,
p. 4). Today, they are often publicly shunned by politicians, and the factions as
such have not transformed themselves into political parties, although factional
links are not absent (NPFL and NPP are a clear example of such transformation,
see Lyons 1999, p. 58).
Post-war politics
At the end of the war, the UN established the United Nations Mission in Liberia
(UNMIL), whose presence in post-war Liberia has been quite extensive: about
15,000 military personnel during most of the mission, with significant reductions
from 2007 and onwards (as of December 31, 2013 uniformed personnel amounted
to 7,467 (UNMIL 2013)); and lengthy, from September 2003 to the present.6 The
budget for the year July 1, 2010 to June 30, 2011 was set at USD 524,052,800
(Peace and Security Section of the Department of Public Information 2010),
and similarly the budget for July 1, 2013 to June 30, 2014 at USD 476,329,800
(UNMIL 2013). The security sector reform has to a large extent been focused on
creating a new military and police force.7
The Disarmament, Demobilization and Reintegration (DDR) Program in Libe-
ria was formally entitled the Disarmament, Demobilization, Rehabilitation and
Reintegration (DDRR) program. The DDR process in Liberia started on December
7, 2003, with disarmament and demobilization ending on October 31, 2004.
The reintegration part was initiated in June 2004 and completed in July 2009.
At the end of the program a total of 103,019 had disarmed and demobilized, and
about 98,000 had participated in reintegration programs. When fieldwork was
prepared only 50,796 had completed their reintegration program, while 30,256
were enrolled in programs (UNDP Liberia 2007). The criteria for accessing the
DDR program were particularly lenient (or generous, depending on perspective)
in Liberia, as compared to similar programs elsewhere. While these criteria made
it easier for female combatants to access the program, it also meant that the total
caseload for the program was inflated by non-combatants. The program had dif-
ficulties reaching all the registered combatants, and as a result efforts to include the
residual caseload (21,810) began in 2007. This residual caseload was largely
the fault of the program assistance delivered through the parallel partners outside
the UN Trust Fund, as ex-combatant status was not verified in these programs. As
a result of this, as well as the Joint Implementation Unit’s decision to allow ex-
combatants to register their children for assistance rather than themselves, many
non-combatants benefited from the reintegration program as well (for more on
the DDR program in Liberia, see McMullin 2013, pp. 197–232; Tamagini and
Krafft 2010).
The Liberian DDR was also the first program where the UN’s Integrated
Disarmament, Demobilization and Reintegration Standards (IDDRS) were imple-
mented, and UNMIL was the first mission with a clear mandate to mainstream
UN Security Council Resolution 1325. This in part meant a clearer focus on
women and children, yet the reintegration component has been criticized for fail-
ing to take gender issues into adequate consideration (Basini 2013; Nilsson and
Thapar-Björkert 2013). It is difficult to estimate the impact of DDR programs, as
participation and completion of reintegration programs are not random but rather
associated with other characteristics which make for successful reintegration. Yet,
a recent study using propensity scores noted that completion of a reintegration
program was associated with a higher likelihood of being employed, but not with
higher income levels (Levely 2013).8 Undoubtedly, however, the DDR program
sent forceful political signals to the ex-combatant community and Liberia as a
whole (Söderström 2013a; Munive and Jakobsen 2012).
In the transition from war, the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC)
has also been an important feature, although the reception and support of the
TRC’s work has been somewhat limited (see e.g. Rowlands 2008; Pajibo 2007;
Gberie 2008). No plans for public memorials of the war have been made. Ambi-
tions and hopes have been high after the war, in both Liberia and among the
international community, partly because Liberia elected the first female presi-
dent in Africa ever during the elections in 2005. While Ellen Johnson Sirleaf won
the second round, it was not a landslide win for her or for her party. In fact, the
current political party system in Liberia is quite fragmented.9 While many politi-
cal parties have links to specific ethnic groups, ethnic and party affiliation are not
strongly related nor always pervasive (Batty 2011).10 Liberia has certainly made
progress in terms of democratization after the war (see e.g. Freedom House 2009,
2003, 2006), but there are still concerns about freedom of speech, and corruption
continues to be rampant (Reno 2008; Bureau of Democracy 2014). While the
Human Development Index (HDI) has increased since the end of the war, Liberia
was still ranked in 162nd place out of 169 countries, with an HDI value of 0.300
in 2010 (UNDP 2010). In the most recent election (2011), Ellen Johnson Sirleaf
again won the presidency and, while the Unity Party’s position had improved,
their victory in the election was not a foregone conclusion. Several irregulari-
ties also resulted in a boycott of the elections by the Congress for Democratic
Change (CDC), the main opposition party. Simultaneously with these elections,
Ellen Johnson Sirleaf was also awarded the Nobel peace prize, together with
Leymah Gbowee and Tawakkol Karman (for more on the elections in 2011, see
Söderström 2013b).
However, in order to understand contemporary politics in Liberia, attention
needs to be paid not only to political institutions and elite behavior, but also to
how various groups within the citizenry relate to politics. Yoder’s work on politi-
cal culture in Liberia, while possibly somewhat stretched in terms of temporal
focus (from the nineteenth century to the 1990s) and based on a patchwork of
empirical evidence, tells an interesting and convincing story about the politi-
cal values of Liberian society (Yoder 2003). Largely, he shows how the typical
dichotomies (settler versus indigenous) of Liberian society actually have a lot in
common, in particular in terms of stressing hierarchy, control, stability and defer-
ence, as well as patronage; values that have remained fairly constant over time
as well. He clearly stresses the illiberal dimensions of Liberian political culture.
In general, caution needs to be exercised when evaluating the extent of claims
made in this area. For instance, Moran has shown in her critique of work that
stress the centrality of hierarchical versus egalitarian traits in Liberian political
culture, that such work has often been limited to specific regions and language
groups (Moran 2006, p. 31). Similarly, ex-combatants’ political culture should
not be equated with Liberian political culture as a whole, even if they are a crucial
element thereof.
Interviewing ex-combatants in focus groups

The main sources of data for this book are focus group interviews. There are
several reasons for this, but mainly this was motivated by the need to find an
interview method that enabled nuanced and focused attention on sometimes quite
abstract issues relating to political culture, and because of their appropriateness
for creating trust in the interview process. Opinions tend to be formulated and
sustained in social contexts; using focus groups therefore offered a way to access
this. In particular, this book has a strong focus on the perspectives and understand-
ings of the community of ex-combatants. It is their relationship with politics that
is sought: their conceptions of politics and ways of understanding and relating to
politics. Beyond the more general relationship with politics, the specific areas of
the ex-combatants’ relationship with politics under investigation concern the ex-
combatants’ sense and feeling of being able to participate; their understandings of
identity, such as their conceptions of demos and citizenship; and finally, how the
ex-combatants engage in dissent and value pluralism.
Attitudes and civic involvement are socially produced and sustained; they
are situated in social contexts (Levitan and Visser 2009, p. 1064f; Fine and Har-
rington 2004, p. 346). This highlights the importance of existing social networks
for the study of political culture, as well as groups in general. While a lot of work
on political culture (of which this book is a part) has relied on individual surveys,
there are those that argue in favor of a more group orientated study of this phe-
nomenon (see Reisinger 1995, p. 336, for a discussion of this). For instance, Lane
notes that “the individual and the group take […] an equal, interactive relation-
ship with one another” (Lane 1992, p. 380), and studying political culture entails
studying the viewpoints of communities, multiple communities, fixed in time,
before reaching conclusions about the overall political culture (Lane 1992, pp.
365, 375f). Which groups or communities actually exhibit a coherent political
culture is an empirical question. The ex-combatants in Liberia display both simi-
lar and different points of view (internally and in relation to the population as a
whole), and when such differences are apparent this book will try to bring out the
range of those views.
While there were many advantages associated with focus groups for the data
collection in this book, they are in particular often deemed to be superior to other
forms of data collection in the study of norms and group understandings. Norms
are rarely expressed in everyday life, or spelled out in detail, and focus groups
represent one way to access them (Bloor et al. 2001, pp. 4–8, 90).11 Thus, access-
ing norms and conceptions concerning both identity and imaginary communities
should be well-suited to focus groups. As these are rather abstract issues, focus
groups enable the participants to relate and nuance their stance, and through the
comparison within the group make their position more explicit.
Secondly, focus groups also provide an advantage compared to in-depth inter-
viewing, as the interaction between the ex-combatants may also allow for a proxy
of their democratic behavior; they provide insights into how debates are dealt with
and settled, thus allowing an understanding of the culture of dissent among the ex-
combatants in Liberia. Focus group data enable an understanding of how notions
of dissent and deference are understood and enacted within the ex-combatant
community. As a concept, dissent is “expressed socially and conditioned by one’s
social surroundings” (Paluck and Green 2009, p. 631), thus the group context for
collecting data on this is particularly suitable.
Advantages of a socially situated data collection

Taking the idea seriously, that “opinions are created in the act of communica-
tion in which they are expressed” (Pool 1957, p. 194), should not only entail an
increased sensitivity to the impression the interviewer herself may make. It also
means that creating the social milieu that reflects the target group the best should
also be attempted in order to capture the appropriately socially situated opinion,
as a more accurate reflection of individuals’ opinions. Thus, as opinions tend to
be created in social contexts, using focus groups should increase the ecological12
validity of the study (Albrecht et al. 1993, p. 54; Waterton and Wynne 1999, pp.
129–30; Morgan 1993, p. 231; see also Drury and Stott 2001, p. 62f; Gubrium and
Holstein 2002, pp. 5–13; Lee and Chan 2008, p. 86; Pachirat 2009, p. 43).
Groups, even at the micro-level, are socially and politically relevant sites,
where public and civic behavior are enacted and molded, through the creation of
norms, identity and loyalties, as well as through providing means of mobilization
(Fine and Harrington 2004, pp. 342–53). Is the ex-combatant community a salient
group identity for ex-combatants? This book makes this claim. Not only does it
reflect a shared experience of the war itself, but also in the post-war context. For
example, the DDR program targets this particular community, emphasizing this
particular identity further. The ex-combatant group is therefore salient, not only
nationally, as it is a group that incurs costs for the state and for some is a source
of fear, but also for the individual ex-combatant. As they often lack opportunities
for economic survival, the ex-combatant network often continues to have rele-
vance as a support system. While the ex-combatant status is often also linked to
a rather porous youth identity in Liberia, there seems to be an associated feeling
of being an outsider, of guilt, exclusion and of being ignored in current politics.
This, coupled with the fact that ex-combatant status can no longer be achieved in
the post-war phase, highlights the political relevance of this group, both for the
individual ex-combatant and for studying them as a group (for discussions con-
cerning the saliency of ex-combatant networks, see also Utas 2003; Christensen
and Utas 2008; Nilsson 2008). Thus focus groups allow the interview to be con-
ducted in the context in which the ex-combatants often exist politically.
In contexts where political freedoms are still new and politics has been
conflictual, people tend to be worried about exposing their political views
(Holmberg and Petersson 1980, p. 68; Höglund and Öberg 2011, p. 3; Fujii
2010); using focus groups may alleviate this. Commenting on Liberia, mainly
in the 1980s and to some extent in the 1990s, Yoder notes that “no researcher
could expect to talk frankly about politics without having first established a high
level of trust” due to fear of real or imaginary reprisals (Yoder 2003, p. 31). Ex-
combatants have also been described as difficult to interview, as it can be hard to
gain their trust, and often they provide stories that fit with their preconceptions
of the research and researcher, suggesting that only lengthy participant observa-
tion would yield the necessary data (see e.g. Nilsson 2008, p. 55; Utas 2003,
pp. 49–59; Christensen and Utas 2008; Utas 2005b; Fujii 2010, pp. 238, 240).
Utas clearly emphasizes the importance of building up trust to enable research
in this field, but especially if the research concerns experiences during the war
(Utas 2005b, p. 409f).
While participant observation could be useful, it is time consuming, and the
areas of interest for this book are unlikely to be discussed naturally. In addition,
people do not live, work or hang out solely with their fellow ex-combatants.
Focus groups are, however, known to be suitable when an increased sense of
trust is needed (Morgan and Krueger 1993, pp. 15, 18; see also Tursunovic
2002, p. 14). Experiences and feelings concerning issues that are usually seen as
sensitive or precarious were openly voiced by participants in the focus groups.
While the establishment of trust is vital, especially in a post-war context, there
are several ways of achieving this, beyond extended and repeated interviewing
(see also White 2007, p. 301f; cf. Fujii 2010, p. 240). The trust already estab-
lished within the group of ex-combatants can in a sense be borrowed by the
focus group, although not to the same extent as within a group entirely made up
of ex-combatants.
Related to issues of trust is also the shift of the power balance in favor of the
focus group participants in relation to the moderator (Kitzinger and Barbour 1999,
p. 18; O’Toole et al. 2003, p. 57; Frey and Fontana 1993, p. 26; Farquhar 1999,
p. 52). The presence of a white female westerner should become less intimidating
and influential in the group setting than in an individual interview: in focus groups
there is both safety and power in numbers (see also Söderström 2011; Frey and
Fontana 1993, p. 26). The sheer number of the participants creates an advantage
in relation to the moderator, but it also means that individual members can hide
behind the group and remain quiet. Their explicit participation in the conversation
is therefore an expression of the participants feeling at ease and that they have
something to say about the topic.
Survey work and even individual interviews presuppose that all individuals
have an opinion regarding all questions. Particularly with regard to surveys, people
may often feel forced into offering an opinion, which infringes upon the reliabil-
ity of the study. One simply cannot know if the opinions were offered because it
was theirs or because they felt like they ought to have a response (Holmberg and
Petersson 1980, p. 73f; Cicourel 1982, p. 16). Clearly, the answers and accounts
worth taking seriously are those where the interviewee feels convinced. The focus
group setting allows this to be taken into consideration; no one is forced to answer
anything and the social pressure to give any answer is reduced as others are likely
to speak instead (cf. Fujii 2010, p. 239). Again, as indicated above, this creates a
sense of ease and safety in the focus group setting, which may make participants
more willing to share their opinions and experiences.
The development of trust in the interview setting was clearly assisted by the
group environment, where being among peers and outnumbering the interviewer
meant the ex-combatants felt more at ease. While the group context conditioned
the data gathering in many ways, the creation of trust was particularly important
when interviewing ex-combatants. The focus groups created the social milieu that
reflected the ex-combatant community, thereby making the data collection appro-
priately socially situated.
This social situatedness of the data collection also has other advantages. The
group context also comes with added control and a reliability check: individuals
are less likely to “tell stories” knowing that others are present who can challenge
their statements if needed. Again, given previous experiences with interviewing
ex-combatants, this was an important advantage of using focus groups. The group
context creates a reliability test, as the groups are unaware of the specific ques-
tions to be discussed and therefore cannot coordinate their answers in advance.
Thus the content of the conversation is subjected to a form of control, as par-
ticipants have the opportunity to object or present an alternative view if there is
disagreement or deception on someone’s part (see also Jarrett 1993, p. 197). This
control exercised by the participants on each other enabled the veracity of their
claims to be gauged.
The inherent comparing and contrasting within and between the groups also
increases reliability, in a process Frey and Fontana term indefinite triangulation
(Frey and Fontana 1993, p. 24; see also Knodel 1993, p. 50). The comparison and
contrasting between participants’ experiences and opinions increase the explicit-
ness of the data obtained. This is especially important when the research topic is
not one of immediate association for the participants (Morgan and Krueger 1993,
pp. 16–17; Kitzinger and Barbour 1999, p. 26; Cunningham-Burley et al. 1999,
p. 195), but rather focused on abstract ideas and underlying political orientations.
The group context also means that the participants will engage in a nuanced
and problematizing discussion, as the participants can reflect and reconsider their
statements, in the relevant group context (Eriksson 2006, p. 43; Cunningham-
Burley et al. 1999, p. 191; Kitzinger and Barbour 1999, p. 26). The fact that
people re-position themselves during the interview (Crabtree et al. 1993, p. 144;
Smithson 2000, p. 109) highlights again both the disadvantage – opinions are not
fixed – and the advantage of focus groups – people refine their argument through
interchange with the other participants. Focus groups therefore reflect opinion
formation as the social process that it is.
Socially situated data collection, through focus groups, therefore offered many
important advantages in relation to interviewing this particular group of individu-
als and concerning this particular topic.
Group composition
Focus groups map out the territory of opinions, and when significant group dif-
ferences exist, such differences are likely to exist among those segments of the
population as well. However, a disadvantage of focus groups is that they ulti-
mately rely on a strategic selection of individuals and groups to interview, and
thereby have difficulties in estimating the levels at which certain opinions are held
in the larger ex-combatant population. Within the confines of the focus groups,
this was addressed through ensuring that a range of ex-combatant backgrounds
were included in the groups, but as additional interviews toward the end of field-
work added little new insight this was further assured. This drawback was in part
also addressed by the use of the Afrobarometer data from Liberia, as will be
discussed later.
Increased generalizability can be achieved when working with focus groups
through “ensuring that the different groups […] together cover the complete range
of the study population” (Bloor et al. 2001, p. 91). Yet whether this is achieved or
not is ultimately a speculation. Covering a variety of backgrounds is a challenge
and a balancing act in relation to enabling specific comparisons within the data.
To some extent, this can be safeguarded through aiming for theoretical saturation.
Indeed, additional groups were added when it was felt that the data seemed to
miss certain specific experiences, but such additions and suspicions are based on
the preconceptions of the researcher and the specific experiences in the field one
encounters, and are thus not completely random or independent.
In Table 2.1 an overview of the conducted focus groups and their composition
is given. In total, 18 groups were conducted, with a total of 101 participants.13
For additional details about the groups, also see Appendix A. Examining the
individual characteristics of the ex-combatants who participated in the focus
groups reveals that they differ somewhat from the composition of the ex-combatant
community as a whole. In part, this has been intentional, so as to allow for
important comparisons, e.g. the female component was larger than in the popu-
lation (26.7 percent of the focus group participants were female). With a small
and strategic sample it is hard to match the distribution of demographic charac-
teristics of the population, but the real issue is whether or not these individuals
are different from individuals with the same characteristics in the population.
Table 2.1â•‡ Focus groups
Group Program Area Gender Faction Ethnicity Size Length Date
G1 GAAa rural male MODELb Krahnb 7 1h 3 min April 2008

G2 GAA rural female MODEL Krahn 5 1h 28 min April 2008
G3 GAA rural male MODEL Krahn 4 1h 26 min April 2008
G4 GAA rural female MODELb Krahn 6 54 min April 2008
U1 UMCOR rural male MODEL/GOL Kissi 4 1h 17 min May 2008
U2 UMCOR rural female GOL Kissib 4 59 min May 2008
U3 UMCOR rural male GOL Mixed 5 1h 45 min Mar 2010
Y1 YMCA urban male LURD/GOL Mixed 6 1h 56 min May 2008
Y2 YMCA urban female GOL Mixed 6 1h 59 min May 2008
Y3 YMCA urban male MODEL Kpelleb 6 3h 18 min June 2008
M1 MVTC urban male GOL Bassa/Kpelle 6 2h 44 min May 2008
M2 MVTC urban male LURDb Bassab 6 1h 36 min May 2008
M3 MVTC urban male MODELb Mixed 6 2h 23 min June 2008
F1 University urban male GOL Mixed 5 1h 58 min June 2008
F2 High School urban female GOL Giob 6 1h 24 min June 2008
F3 High School urban male LURDb Mandingob 8 1h 53 min Mar 2010
L1 none rural male GOL/LURD Kpelleb 5 1h 30 min May 2008
L2 none urban male GOL Lomab 6 1h 37 min May 2008
Notes
a Acronyms used in table: German Agro Action (GAA), Government of Liberia (GOL), Liberians United for Reconciliation and Democracy (LURD), Movement for
Democracy in Liberia (MODEL), Monrovia Vocational Training Center (MVTC), United Methodist Committee on Relief (UMCOR), and Young Men Christian
Association (YMCA).
b The group consisted mainly of such individuals, but not exclusively.
There are no apparent reasons to suspect that this is the case. The groups represent
the breadth of ex-combatants’ background, for example, covering 14 of the 16
ethnic groups of Liberia, and an age range of 13 to 44 years (mean 28). The
focus groups also consisted of 17.8 percent former LURD combatants (compared to
28 percent in the overall population), 28.7 percent former MODEL combatants
(compared to 12 percent) and 47.5 percent former GOL combatants (compared
to 60 percent) (UNDP Liberia 2007).
In order to facilitate a sense of being among one’s peers in each group, the
groups were internally homogenous with respect to a number of criteria.14 This
also facilitates comparisons between these segments in the analysis. Within each
group, gender (always) and faction membership were held constant, as was reinte-
gration experience.15 Mixing male and female ex-combatants would have created
a concern for gender roles, conditioning the group discussions even further (of
course, in the male groups this might still have been an issue as the moderator was
female). As both male and female groups were convened, this also means that this
study to some extent has segmentation in relation to gender.
Focus groups where the faction membership was the same for all participants
in each group were also strived for. Clearly, factional differences may correspond
with political differences, and it could be a source of antagonism within mixed
groups. However, during recruitment it was often difficult to fully control this,
and groups where factions were mixed did not in general exhibit more antago-
nism or less trust.16 Again, given that three different factions are represented in
the data, comparisons across this segment can also be done to some extent. How-
ever, Knodel warns against overstretching the number of segments and break
characteristics that can be compared comprehensively within one study (Knodel
1993, p. 43). So while comparisons will sometimes be made in terms of gen-
der, faction, reintegration program or urban-rural belonging, this study is not
foremost about such differences and should not be seen as a study designed to
address such issues in detail, rather the group composition aimed for a variation
of backgrounds in order to describe the full breadth of ex-combatant experiences
in Liberia.
Another issue related to the composition of the focus groups is of course the
size of the groups. In terms of size and format, the aim was to have about six to
eight people in each group. In the end, the size of the groups varied between four
to eight participants, although most groups included six participants. It has been
suggested that smaller groups are less vulnerable to dominant personas (Smith-
son and Brannen 2002, p. 18). A group with about six participants worked well
because it was large enough to create a sense of a group and small enough to
ensure that the length of the discussions remained reasonable, yet allowing the
themes to be thoroughly explored by the group members.
Recruitment
One of the reasons for using focus groups is their ability to frame the individual
in a group context, and in particular a group context which is relevant for the
individual and the research focus (see for instance Fine and Harrington 2004,
p. 345; O’Toole et al. 2003, p. 56; Smithson 2000, p. 114). The recruitment to the
focus groups therefore tried to reflect naturally occurring groups through draw-
ing participants from preexisting networks. Of course, an element of artificiality
will always remain when using focus groups (Paluck and Green 2009, p. 634).
In the focus groups used for this research, the participants often consisted of ex-
combatants from preexisting networks, either because they had participated in the
same reintegration program at the same time or because they had been recruited
through each other. While not everyone in every group knew each other, often
one or several sections of each group knew each other from before. In all the rural
communities all the participants ultimately knew each other, whereas in Monrovia
this varied more.
Recruitment through intermediaries facilitated reaching the target groups, with-
out exposing them as ex-combatants to their communities, yet also building trust
prior to the interview. In some cases the ex-combatants were approached through
the elders of the village, those in charge of the program or trainers known to have
participated in the program. Recruitment for the interviews was also conducted
together with a veterans’ organization in Monrovia, National Ex-Combatants’
Peacebuilding Initiative (NEPI), and through their network contacted potential
participants and invited them to come to a discussion.17 Because recruitment was
dependent on these various networks, undoubtedly these networks shaped the
outcome of the recruitment, and sometimes in ways not apparent. Recruitment
through intermediaries is noted to entail a loss of control, increased dependency
on the goodwill of that particular intermediary, and potentially compromising
informed consent for those participating (Bloor et al. 2001, p. 36). While there are
several disadvantages to this approach, the use of intermediaries was an important
way to help identify the target group without jeopardizing the safety of potential
participants in the process.
As the groups also included participants that knew each other before partici-
pation, these relationships outside the group may also have tainted interaction
and possibly dampened potential comments, as they were not uttered in com-
plete anonymity. Again, while such groups will capture the group as it is, it also
means that there are sometimes unknown aspects of the group and its members
that structure the data in unknown ways. Using pre-existing social groups for
focus groups may also exaggerate the problem of over-disclosure, in addition
to decreasing confidentiality (Bloor et al. 2001, pp. 16, 25). In this particular
project, concerns about anonymity and safety for the research participants were
heightened because of this.
Compared to working with focus groups elsewhere, safety was a much bigger
concern in this research project. This was not only evident during recruitment, but
also in terms of choice of location for the interviews, as well as during the inter-
views. Their anonymity and privacy was clearly limited due to the group context
itself. While this is sometimes noted in the mainstream literature on focus groups,
this has not received the attention it deserves, especially if data collection is car-
ried out in a post-war context. Although it is doubtful whether it is restricted to
this area, depending on the research, what questions are asked, and what groups
are stigmatized in a society, these concerns should be taken more seriously (see
also Söderström 2011). Ultimately, safety concerns can be attenuated, but not
eradicated.
Analysis
After the completion of the various focus groups, this data had to be analyzed,
and several different approaches were available for this. To a large extent, work-
ing with focus groups is similar to working with other qualitative interviews,
but just as the group context conditions the data gathering process, it also condi-
tions the analysis. While there is an abundance of literature concerning how to
conduct and plan for focus groups, there is less written on the actual analysis,
and few examples of good practices can be found in published research. The
question of how to summarize and make the material generated in the focus
groups intelligible has continually been of concern during this work. What is
clear is that one cannot present it in the same way as ordinary individual inter-
views or surveys.
Research based on focus groups often does not allow the reader to follow
which groups expressed what, decreasing the transparency of the study. Of
course this is mainly important when the comparison between different groups
is of interest; often research using focus groups tries to describe a more gen-
eral phenomenon rather than distinguish differences between various segments
in the sample. However, this book attempts to do both. The main goal of this
book is first to describe the similarities within the ex-combatant community and,
second, when there are significant differences between groups, highlight this if
possible in relation to the specific segments that were included in the composition
of the groups.
To anecdotally describe which groups felt or thought what, always describing
the group in words, is not a reasonable approach when working with 18 groups,
as is the case here. For these reasons, the group number of those groups that
subscribed to a certain point of view is referenced within parentheses throughout
the text. The groups are numbered to indicate the main segment for compari-
son, namely reintegration program experience. Thus, all the groups are referred
to using the first letter of their particular reintegration program experience. For
example, the first group conducted that participated in the program at the Young
Men Christian Association (YMCA) is indexed as Y1, and the second group
that lacked a program experience is indexed as L2, and so on. This creates much
needed transparency in the analysis of the focus group data. However, compari-
sons across other segments, such as gender and faction are also possible. In order
to reflect the diversity within the ex-combatant community, the conclusion in each
chapter will comment on any systematic differences across segments when such
differences are present and clear.
Another challenge related to the analysis of focus group data is the fact that
they capture individuals in their plurality, and the data produced in the groups
therefore represent shared knowledge and understandings. Here, the unit of analy-
sis is not the individual nor the group, but rather a combination of the two, or a
vacillation between the two (see also Morgan 1997, p. 60; cf. Crabtree et al. 1993,
p. 144). For Morgan, “neither the individual nor the group constitutes a separable
‘unit of analysis’”, rather “our analytic efforts must seek a balance that acknowl-
edges the interplay between these two ‘levels of analysis’” (Morgan 1997, p. 60).
This is a serious challenge. Similarly, Fine discusses macro- and micro-perspectives
within sociology, and argues that while “the world is seamless […] analyses are
not” (Fine 1991, p. 162). It would seem as if focus groups are a useful way of
exploring the political culture of a particular community given their intermediate
positioning vis-à-vis the individual and the group. This poses one of the greater
challenges of analyzing focus group data. In this book, this was handled through
mainly working with the data at the group level, while also recognizing individual
voices within such groups when citing or when disagreements or opposition were
apparent within the groups.
Different personas are visible through this type of data collection; the groups
do not homogenize to such an extent as to render differences in opinion or lan-
guage use invisible. However, the main unit of analysis continues to be the group.
In fact, focus groups can be useful sites to explore the process of consensus
creation and expressions of dissent and disagreement (Smithson 2000, p. 114;
O’Toole et al. 2003, p. 56). The groups were given encouragement early on in the
discussion that different perspectives were welcomed and even solicited (Morgan
and Krueger 1993, p. 17). Detecting disagreement is not always apparent how-
ever, as expressions of disagreement are not always obvious. Responses that are
“delayed, prefaced, or modified” can often indicate disagreement (Myers 1998,
p. 96). These concerns, but also the interest in exploring how the focus groups
handled dissent in and of itself, also prompted the moderator to act as devil’s
advocate at times during the interviews, suggesting alternative views or perspec-
tives. Analytically, presenting the data both at the group level and the individual
level is a challenge, and it is worth reiterating that analyses are not seamless as
noted by Fine (1991). This is also true for this book.
Finally, the situatedness of the data, as well as the room for altering your opin-
ion in a focus group, introduces a degree of indeterminacy to data obtained from
focus groups. The room for nuances created in a focus group also means that
some of these nuances may linger on as contradictions and uncertainties in the
analytical stage (Bloor et al. 2001, p. 70). Commenting on this, Frankland and
Bloor argue that this indeterminancy is difficult to deal with in the analysis of
focus groups (Frankland and Bloor 1999, p. 154). In essence, this means that the
shared understandings expressed in a focus group may change and develop during
the interview.
Combining data
While the composition of the focus groups (18 groups with a total of 101 ex-
combatants) should ensure that a wide range of ex-combatant experiences are
included in this study, the analysis of the ex-combatants’ relationship with poli-
tics is also complemented with both additional individual interviews and survey
data in this book. See Appendix A for an overview of the all the interviews con-
ducted. In addition to this interview data, the book also relies on data from the
Afrobarometer survey conducted in Liberia in 2008. The Afrobarometer collects
public opinion data, on political as well as economic issues, using a representative
cross-section of all citizens old enough to vote (based on a clustered, stratified,
multi-stage, area-probability sample). While this is a national survey, a number of
ex-combatants are identified therein. In total 42 ex-combatants were included in
the Afrobarometer in Liberia.
The use of the Afrobarometer data is mainly limited to a comparison with
the general public, and allowing an estimation of the extent and level of cer-
tain values and attitudes among the ex-combatants, something which cannot be
accomplished with the focus group data alone. The focus group data gives a richer
description and understanding of conceptual linkages among the ex-combatants,
but it does not indicate the extent to which these findings are true for the larger
ex-combatant population. Of course, a sample of 42 ex-combatants is relatively
small; in fact it is smaller than the number of ex-combatants that participated in
the focus groups. However, since this sample is a representative one, it allows for
generalization beyond the sample itself and comparison with the general public
in Liberia.18 Importantly, this comparison between the ex-combatants and the gen-
eral population in Liberia allows for a discussion of whether and how different the
ex-combatant community is from the population as a whole. Notable differences
or similarities will be highlighted in the conclusion in each chapter.
The Afrobarometer data is therefore an important complement to the focus
groups. When there are appropriate survey items that correspond to the themes
discussed in the focus groups, this is noted, and tables with this descriptive data
are included. Statistical tests of the differences between the ex-combatants and
the general public are carried out using a chi-square test if not otherwise noted.
Together, these data enable a rich and emblematic description of the ex-combatant
community’s relationship with politics.
Notes
â•‡ 1 The Uppsala Conflict Data Program is currently developing a new dataset on Peace-
makers at Risk (PAR), which codes casualties involving peacekeepers. While this data
is not complete yet, it currently notes 516 deaths as the best estimate for casualties
involving ECOMOG (149 of those were peacekeepers), and the high estimate is 3,428
deaths (Lindberg Bromley and Uppsala Conflict Data Program 2013).
â•‡ 2 The following groups have been noted as significant violator groups by the Liberian
Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC): NPFL, LURD, the Liberia Peace Coun-
cil, MODEL, ULIMO (K and J), AFL, the Independent National Patriotic Front of
Liberia and Anti-Terrorist Unit (Truth and Reconciliation Commission – Republic of
Liberia 2009, p. 21).
â•‡ 3 This includes the NPFL, the AFL and the Anti-Terrorist Unit.
â•‡ 4 For instance, the Gios and Manos were often associated with the NPFL, the Mandin-
gos with the United Liberation Movement of Liberia for Democracy–Kromah faction
(ULIMO-K) and the Liberia Peace Council, the Krahn with the United Liberation
Movement of Liberia for Democracy–Johnson faction (ULIMO-J) and the Lomas with
the Lofa Defense Force (Toure 2002, p. 25).
â•‡ 5 This number is based on the amount of ex-combatants accessing the Disarmament,
Demobilization and Reintegration program, and the criteria used within the DDR
program for determining ex-combatant status. It is possible that these numbers overes-
timate the total number of former combatants in Liberia.
â•‡ 6 At the time of writing the mission was authorized until September 30, 2014, and mili-
tary personnel strength expected at 3,750 by July 2015.
â•‡ 7 However, evaluations so far of the police have not been positive, where some claim
that “the [Liberian National Police] to a certain extent is arguably a politicized security
agency”, and the Emergency Response Units (ERUs) within the police are referred to
as “‘Ellen’s Response Units’, after their close relations to the president” (Kantor and
Persson 2010, p. 18). It would thus seem as personal networks continue to structure
Liberian politics and security structures (see also Ellis 2007, p. 282).
â•‡ 8 The results are not very robust, however, and the analysis relies on data collected
within a relatively short time frame after completion of the program. The data was
collected in 2006.
â•‡ 9 The president’s party, the Unity Party, only had 13.3 percent of the seats in the Senate
and 12.5 percent in the House after the election in 2005 (NEC 2005, p. 13).
10 Some links can be noted however, for instance the National Democratic Party of Libe-
ria, founded by Doe, is often seen as a Krahn party, whereas the Bassa and the Kru
often voted for the Congress for Democratic Change (CDC) and the Liberty Party. The
Kissis have been noted to have voted in larger portions for the Unity Party than other
ethnic groups did (Batty 2011). The All Liberian Coalition Party (ALCOP) has largely
been seen as a Mandingo dominated party (Lyons 1999, p. 45).
11 When it comes to norms, however, there are both prescriptive and descriptive norms,
where the former relate to ideas about what people ought to do, and the latter what
people generally do. Focus groups emphasize prescriptive norms rather than descrip-
tive, and some argue focus groups do this particularly well, especially when the group
reflects socially and politically relevant groups (Frankland and Bloor 1999, p. 153;
Morgan 1993, p. 229). However, this also means that the group process, especially in
front of the external moderator, can lead to the group displaying their ideals rather than
their actual “bad” (prescriptive and descriptive) norms. In order to avoid this problem,
examples of attitudes and acts that could be conceived of as “bad” were noted by the
moderator, such as the use of violence, either in general or linked to other ex-combatant
groups interviewed, in an attempt to make it easier for the participants to admit to shar-
ing such norms. The moderator acting as the devil’s advocate in this way should have
alleviated this problem.
12 Within anthropology it is common to make a distinction between emic and etic
data, where the former is data that can be described as local knowledge, with a
cultural specificity or knowledge that is structured by the informant, and the lat-
ter in turn can be described as scientific knowledge, with claims of universality,
or knowledge that is structured by the researcher. High ecological validity ensues
from emic data.
13 All interviews were carried out in English. However, using English in the rural
groups as the main language of communication was sometimes more problematic.
Thus a translator was present in the four groups in Grand Gedeh. The conversa-
tion began in English and, when required, this would be translated into Krahn; if a
participant so wished, they could express themselves in Krahn, and this would then
be translated back into English. The majority of the conversation was always car-
ried out in English however. No such separate translator was present in the groups
in Lofa County, but individuals in the group helped explain words or questions in
Kissi to those not as fluent in English as themselves. Part of the discussion was also
facilitated by the use of visual aids. The bulk of the discussion concerning elec-
tions was initiated through the presentation of photographs of the 2005 election.
The pictures included people voting, standing in line and campaigns for both Ellen
Johnson Sirleaf and George Weah. The use of photographs was motivated by two
things: first, it helps as a memory device to take participants back to the situation
at hand (this was particularly important as the elections had occurred about three
years earlier for most of the groups); and second, as the photographs were neutral,
they also allowed participants to voice spontaneous thoughts and ideas in relation
to them. All of the groups found it quite useful to refer to the photographs when
discussing the elections. The use of photographs made it easier for the participants
to gear the conversation toward aspects of the election that was of major importance
to them, thereby allowing them to set the agenda (see also Söderström 2011, p. 157,
2010, 2009). And as has been noted by other researchers, this allows the participants
to frame the topic in their own vocabulary (Kitzinger and Barbour 1999, p. 12). Of
course, the distance between the actual elections and the interviews has meant that
experiences after the election have also colored their perception of their electoral
experience.
14 Ensuring the appropriate composition of ex-combatants in a certain group was more
problematic than anticipated. Those approached for participating were often eager to
do so, but at times they did not fit all the criteria for a specific group. This has meant
that the groups are not as easily compared as was originally anticipated; instead of
having groups composed solely of members from one faction, sometimes the groups
ended up being more mixed in terms of this. In particular, in this study all partici-
pants were supposed to be ex-combatants, however in one group two participants
were discovered not to be ex-combatants during the focus group interview (U1), and
one participant in two groups (G1 and G2) through the questionnaire at the end of the
focus group.
15 Included in the focus groups is a variety of reintegration program experiences. The
program organized by the United Methodist Committee for Relief (UMCOR) oper-
ated on an apprenticeship model, which meant participants became attached to local
businessmen and craftsmen, and were provided skills to run a small enterprise. The
program offered by YMCA was a vocational training program, and consisted of
both theory and practical work; similarly the Monrovia Vocational Training Centre
(MVTC) offered vocational training, although with a higher concentration of ex-
combatants in each class. The program provided by German Agro Action (GAA)
focused on agricultural training. Formal education carried about 40 percent of the
entire caseload, and participants who utilized this option received support to return
to high school or post-secondary education as part of their reintegration program.
Finally, two groups contained participants that had not gone through a reintegration
program.
16 While this turned out to be the case in Liberia, this is not necessarily the case in other
post-civil war contexts.
17 All the participants received monetary compensation for their time and to cover
transportation costs, to the amount of five USD (varying slightly depending on trans-
portation needs) in keeping with focus group praxis (Kitzinger and Barbour 1999,
p. 10; see also Söderström 2011, p. 154; Bloor et al. 2001). This was especially impor-
tant for recruitment in Monrovia, where the interviews were carried out downtown,
often far from where some of the ex-combatants lived. As the running of the groups
was dependent on enough participants showing up for each interview, this was deemed
necessary.
18 The small number of ex-combatants included in the sample ultimately undermines
the robustness of the findings (the efficiency with which confidence intervals are
estimated).
References
Akpan, M. B. 1973. “Black Imperialism – Americo Liberian Rule over African Peoples
of Liberia, 1841–1964.” Canadian Journal of African Studies–Revue Canadienne Des
Etudes Africaines 7(2): 217–36.
Albrecht, Terrance L., Gerianne M. Johnson, and Joseph B. Walther. 1993. “Understanding
Communication Processes in Focus Groups.” In Successful Focus Groups: Advancing
the State of the Art, ed. D. L. Morgan, pp. 51–64. Newbury Park: Sage Publications.
Basini, Helen S. A. 2013. “Gender Mainstreaming Unraveled: The Case of DDRR in Liberia.”
International Interactions 39(4): 535–57.
Batty, Fodei. 2011. “Do Ethnic Groups Retain Homogenous Preferences in African
Politics? Evidence from Sierra Leone and Liberia.” African Studies Review 54(1):
117–43.
Bloor, Michael, Jane Frankland, Michelle Thomas, and Kate Robson. 2001. Focus groups
in social research. London and Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Publications.
Bøås, Morten. 2005. “The liberian civil war: new war/old war?” Global Society 19(1):
73–88.
46(1): 33–55.
Bugnion, Christian, Luc Lafrenière, Sam Gbaydee Doe, Hirut Tefferi, and Cerue Garlo.
2006. “External Mid-Term Evaluation Report of the Disarmament, Demobilisation,
Rehabilitation and Reintegration Programme in Liberia.” UNDP.
Bureau of Democracy, Human Rights and Labor. 2014. “Liberia 2013 Human Rights
Report.” U.S. Department of State.
Burrowes, Carl Patrick. 2004. Power and Press Freedom in Liberia, 1830–1970: The
Impact of Globalization and Civil Society on Media-Government Relations. Trenton:
Africa World Press.
107(429): 515–39.
Cibelli, Kristen, Amelia Hoover, and Jule Krüger. 2009. “Descriptive Statistics from State-
ments to the Liberian Truth and Reconciliation Commission.” Human Rights Data
Analysis Group at Benetech and Annex to the Final Report of the Truth and Reconcili-
ation Commission of Liberia.
Cicourel, Aaron V. 1982. “Interviews, Surveys, and the Problem of Ecological Validity.”
American Sociologist 17(1): 11–20.
Crabtree, Benjamin F., M. Kim Yanoshik, William L. Miller, and Patrick J. O’Connor.
1993. “Selecting Individual or Group Interviews.” In Successful Focus Groups:
Advancing the State of the Art, ed. D. L. Morgan, pp. 137–49. Newbury Park: Sage
Publications.
Cunningham-Burley, Sarah, Anne Kerr, and Stephen Pavis. 1999. “Theorizing subjects and
subject matter in focus group research.” In Developing Focus Group Research: Politics,
Theory and Practice, eds. J. Kitzinger and R. S. Barbour, pp. 186–99. London: Sage
Publications.
Dolo, Emmanuel. 1996. Democracy versus dictatorship: The Quest for Freedom and Jus-
tice in Africa’s Oldest Republic – Liberia. Lanham: University Press of America.
Drury, John, and Clifford Stott. 2001. “Bias as a Research Strategy in Participant Observation:
The Case of Intergroup Conflict.” Field Methods 13(1): 47–67.
Ellis, Stephen. 1995. “Liberia 1989–1994: A Study of Ethnic and Spiritual Violence.” Afri-
can Affairs 94(375): 165–97.
———. 2007. The Mask of Anarchy. The Destruction of Liberia and the Religious Dimen-
sion of an African Civil War. Second edn. New York: New York University Press.
Eriksson, Cecilia. 2006. “Det borde vara att folket bestämmer” En studie av ungdomars
föreställningar om demokrati. Political Science, Örebro University, Örebro.
Farquhar, Clare. 1999. “Are focus groups suitable for ‘sensitive’ topics?” In Developing
Focus Group Research: Politics, Theory and Practice, eds. J. Kitzinger and R. S. Barbour,
pp. 47–63. London: Sage Publications.
Fine, Gary Alan. 1991. “On the Macrofoundations of Microsociology – Constraint and the
Exterior Reality of Structure.” Sociological Quarterly 32(2): 161–77.
Frankland, Jane, and Michael Bloor. 1999. “Some issues arising in the systematic
analysis of focus group materials.” In Developing Focus Group Research: Politics,
Theory and Practice, eds. J. Kitzinger and R. S. Barbour, pp. 144–55. London: Sage
Publications.
Freedom House. 2003. Freedom in the World – Liberia. Online: http://www.freedomhouse.
org/inc/content/pubs/fiw/inc_country_detail.cfm?country=428&year=2003&page=0&
view=mof&pf (accessed January 19, 2010).
———. 2006. Freedom in the World – Liberia Online: http://www.freedomhouse.org/inc/
content/pubs/fiw/inc_country_detail.cfm?country=7001&year=2006&page=0&view=
mof&pf (accessed January 19, 2010).
———. 2009. Freedom in the World – Liberia. Online: http://www.freedomhouse.org/inc/
Frey, James H., and Andrea Fontana. 1993. “The Group Interview in Social Research.” In
Successful Focus Groups: Advancing the State of the Art, ed. D. L. Morgan, pp. 20–34.
Newbury Park: Sage Publications.
Fujii, Lee Ann. 2010. “Shades of truth and lies: Interpreting testimonies of war and vio-
lence.” Journal of Peace Research 47(2): 231–41.
Gberie, Lansana. 2008. “Truth and justice on trial in Liberia.” African Affairs 107(428):
455–65.
Gubrium, Jaber F., and James A. Holstein. 2002. “From the Individual Interview to the
Interview Society.” In Handbook of Interview Research: Context & Method, eds.
J. F. Gubrium and J. A. Holstein, pp. 3–32. Thousand Oaks: Sage Publications.
Hardgrove, Abby V. 2012. Life after Guns: The Life Chances and Trajectories of
Ex-Combatant and Other Post-War Youth in Monrovia, Liberia. Department of InterÂ�
national Development, University of Oxford.
Hill, Richard, Gwendolyn Taylor, and Jonathan Temin. 2008. “Would you fight again?
Understanding Liberian Ex-Combatant Reintegration.” Washington: United States
Institute of Peace (USIP). Special Report No 211.
Höglund, Kristine, and Magnus Öberg, eds. 2011. Understanding Peace Research: Meth-
ods and Challenges. London and New York: Routledge.
Holmberg, Sören, and Olof Petersson. 1980. “Den magiska felmarginalen.” In Inom fel-
marginalen: En bok om politiska opinionsundersökningar, pp. 41–75. Stockholm:
Liber förlag.
Jarrett, Robin L. 1993. “Focus Group Interviewing With Low-Income Minority Popula-
tions.” In Successful Focus Groups: Advancing the State of the Art, ed. D. L. Morgan,
pp. 184–201. Newbury Park: Sage Publications.
Jaye, Thomas. 2009. “Transitional Justice and DDR: The Case of Liberia.” International
Center for Transitional Justice.
Kantor, Ana, and Mariam Persson. 2010. “Understanding Vigilantism: Informal Security Pro-
viders and Security Sector Reform in Liberia.” Stockholm: Folke Bernadotte Academy.
Kitzinger, Jenny, and Rosaline S. Barbour, eds. 1999. Developing Focus Group Research:
Politics, Theory, and Practice. London and Thousand Oaks: Sage Publications.
Knodel, John. 1993. “Design and Analysis of Focus Group Studies: A Practical Approach.”
In Successful Focus Groups: Advancing the State of the Art, ed. D. L. Morgan, pp.
35–50. Newbury Park: Sage Publications.
Lane, Ruth. 1992. “Political Culture: Residual Category or General Theory.” Comparative
Political Studies 25(3): 362–87.
Lee, Francis L. F., and Joseph M. Chan. 2008. “Making sense of participation: The politi-
cal culture of pro-democracy demonstrators in Hong Kong.” China Quarterly (193):
84–101.
Levely, Ian. 2013. “Measuring Intermediate Outcomes of Liberia’s Disarmament, Demo-
bilization, Rehabilitation and Reintegration Program.” Defence and Peace Economics
25(2): 139–62.
Levitan, Lindsey Clark, and Penny S. Visser. 2009. “Social network composition and atti-
tude strength: Exploring the dynamics within newly formed social networks.” Journal
of Experimental Social Psychology 45(5): 1057–67.
Levitt, Jeremy I. 2005. The Evolution of Deadly Conflict in Liberia: From ‘Paternalism’ to
State Collapse. Durham: Carolina Academic Press.
Liberia Institute of Statistics and Geo-Information Services (LISGIS). 2009a. “2008 Popu-
lation and Housing Census.” Republic of Liberia.
———. 2009b. “2008 Population and Housing Census, Final Results.” Monrovia.
Lindberg Bromley, Sara, and Uppsala Conflict Data Program. 2013. “Peacemakers at Risk
(PAR) Codebook.” Uppsala University.
Lyons, Terrence. 1999. Voting for Peace: Postconflict Elections in Liberia. Washington,
DC: Brookings Institution Press.
McMullin, Jaremey R. 2013. Ex-Combatants and the Post-Conflict State. Challenges of
Moran, Mary. 2012. “Our Mothers Have Spoken: Synthezing Old and New Forms of Wom-
en’s Political Authority in Liberia.” Journal of International Women’s Studies 13(4):
51–66.
Pennsylvania Press.
Morgan, David L., ed. 1993. Successful Focus Groups: Advancing the State of the Art. Vol.
156. Newbury Park: Sage Publications.
———. 1997. Focus Groups as Qualitative Research. Second edn. Thousands Oaks: Sage
Publications.
Morgan, David L., and Richard A. Krueger. 1993. “When to Use Focus Groups and Why.”
In Successful Focus Groups: Advancing the State of the Art, ed. D. L. Morgan, pp. 3–19.
Newbury Park: Sage Publications.
Myers, Greg. 1998. “Displaying Opinions: Topics and Disagreement in Focus Groups.”
Language in Society 27(1): 85–111.
NEC. 2005. “National Tally Center Results Report for the Election of the President, Vice-
President, Senate, and House of Representatives on 11 October 2005.” Monrovia:
National Elections Commission.
Nilsson, Johanna, and Suruchi Thapar-Björkert. 2013. “‘People Constantly Remind Me of
My Past … and Make Me Look Like a Monster’: Re-visiting DDR through a conversa-
tion with Black Diamond.” International Feminist Journal of Politics 15(1): 110–18.
Nilsson, R. Anders. 2008. Dangerous Liaisons. Why Ex-Combatants Return to Violence –
Cases from the Republic of Congo and Sierra Leone. Department of Peace and Conflict
Research, Uppsala University, Uppsala.
O’Toole, Therese, Michael Lister, Dave Marsh, Su Jones, and Alex McDonagh. 2003.
“Tuning out or left out? Participation and non-participation among young people.” Con-
temporary Politics 9(1): 45–61.
Pachirat, Timothy. 2009. “Shouts and Murmurs: The Ethnographer’s Potion.” Qualitative
& Multi-Method Research 7(2): 41–4.
Paes, Wolf-Christian. 2005. “The challenges of disarmament, demobilization and reinte-
gration in Liberia.” International Peacekeeping 12(2): 253–61.
Pajibo, Ezekiel. 2007. “Civil Society and Transitional Justice in Liberia: A Practitioner’s
Reflection from Liberia.” The International Journal of Transitional Justice 1(2):
287–96.
Paluck, Elizabeth L., and Donald P. Green. 2009. “Deference, Dissent, and Dispute Resolu-
tion: An Experimental Intervention Using Mass Media to Change Norms and Behavior
in Rwanda.” American Political Science Review 103(4): 622–44.
Peace and Security Section of the Department of Public Information. 2010. UNMIL Facts
and Figures. United Nations. Online: http://www.un.org/en/peacekeeping/missions/
unmil/facts.shtml (accessed November 10, 2010).
Pool, Ithiel de Sola. 1957. “A Critique of the 20th Anniversary Issue.” Public Opinion
Research 21(1): 190–8.
Reisinger, William M. 1995. “The Renaissance of a Rubric: Political Culture as Concept
and Theory.” International Journal of Public Opinion Research 7(4): 328–52.
Reno, William. 1998. Warlord Politics and African States. London: Lynne Rienner
Publishers.
———. 2008. “Anti-corruption Efforts in Liberia: Are they Aimed at the Right Targets?”
International Peacekeeping 15(3): 387–404.
Rowlands, Michael. 2008. “Civilization, violence and heritage healing in Liberia.” Journal
of Material Culture 13(2): 135–52.
Security Council. 2003. “Report of the Secretary-General to the Security Council on Libe-
ria.” United Nations. S/2003/875.
Smithson, Janet. 2000. “Using and analysing focus groups: limitations and possibilities.”
International Journal of Social Research Methodology 3(2): 103–19.
Smithson, Janet, and Julia Brannen. 2002. “Qualitative methodology in cross-national
research.” In Young Europeans, Work and Family. Futures in transition, eds.
J. Brannen, S. Lewis, A. Nilsen and J. Smithson, pp. 11–29. London and New York:
Routledge.
Söderström, Johanna. 2009. “Valerfarenheter bland f.d. kombattanter: En ny syn på
demokrati i Liberia?” Politica 41(3): 300–14.
———. 2010. “Ex-Combatants at the Polls: Exploring Focus Groups & Electoral Mean-
ing.” Anthropology Matters 12(1): 1–16.
———. 2011. “Focus Groups: Safety in numbers?” In Understanding Peace Research:
Methods and Challenges, eds. K. Höglund and M. Öberg, pp. 146–64. New York and
London: Routledge.
———. 2013a. “The Political Consequences of Reintegration Programmes in Current
Peace-building: A Framework for Analysis.” Conflict, Security & Development 13(1):
87–116.
———. 2013b. “Second time around: Ex-combatants at the polls in Liberia.” The Journal
of Modern African Studies 51(3): 409–33.
Tamagini, Andrea, and Teresa Krafft. 2010. “Strategic Approaches to Reintegration:
Lessons Learned from Liberia.” Global Governance 16(1): 13–20.
Truth and Reconciliation Commission – Republic of Liberia. 2009. “Consolidated Final
Report.” Monrovia. Volume II.
Tursunovic, Mirzet. 2002. “Fokusgruppsintervjuer i teori och praktik.” Sociologisk For-
skning 39(1): 1–30.
UNDP. 2006. “Mobilizing Capacity for Reconstruction and Development.” National
Human Development Report. Monrovia.
———. 2010. “Human Development Report 2010.” New York.
UNDP Liberia. 2007. “Status of Reintegration Activities for Ex-Combatants.” Briefing
Note No. 9. Monrovia.
UNMIL. No date. UNMIL background. Online: http://www.un.org/en/peacekeeping/
missions/unmil/background.shtml (accessed February 24, 2014).
———. 2013. UNMIL Facts and Figures. Online: http://www.un.org/en/peacekeeping/
missions/unmil/facts.shtml (accessed February 24, 2014).
Uppsala Conflict Data Program. 2013a. “The UCDP Battle-related Deaths Dataset v.
5-2013, 1989–2012.” Uppsala University.
———. 2013b. “The UCDP Non-State Conflict Dataset v. 2.5-2013, 1989–2012.” Uppsala
University.
———. 2013c. “The UCDP One-sided Violence Dataset v. 1.4-2013, 1989–2012.” Upp-
sala University.
Utas, Mats. 2003. Sweet Battlefields. Youth and the Liberian Civil War. Cultural Anthro-
———. 2005a. “Building a Future? The Reintegration and Re-marginalisation of Youth in
Liberia.” In No Peace, No War: an anthropology of contemporary armed conflicts, eds.
P. Richards and B. Helander, pp. 137–54. Oxford and Athens: Ohio University Press
and James Currey.
———. 2005b. “Victimcy, Girlfriending, Soldiering: Tactic Agency in a Young Wom-
an’s Social Navigation of the Liberian War Zone.” Anthropological Quarterly 78(2):
403–30.
———. 2008. “Abject Heroes: Marginalised Youth, Modernity and Violent Pathways of
the Liberian Civil War.” In Years of Conflict: adolescence, political violence and dis-
placement, ed. J. Hart, pp. 111–38. New York & Oxford: Berghahn.
———. 2009. “Malignant Organisms: Continuities of State-Run Violence in Rural Liberia.”
In Crisis of the State: War and Social Upheaval, eds. B. Kapferer and B. E. Bertelsen,
pp. 265–91. New York: Berghahn Books.
Waterton, Claire, and Brian Wynne. 1999. “Can focus groups access community views?”
In Developing Focus Group Research: Politics, Theory and Practice, eds. J. Kitzinger
and R. S. Barbour, pp. 127–43. London: Sage Publications.
White, Robert W. 2007. “‘I’m not too sure what I told you the last time’: Methological
notes on accounts from high-risk activists in the Irish Republican Movement.” Mobili-
zation 12(3): 287–305.
Vinck, Patrick, Phuong Pham, and Tino Kreutzer. 2011. “Talking Peace: A Population-
based survey on attitudes about Security, Dispute Resolution, and Post-Conflict
Reconstruction in Liberia.” Human Rights Center, University of California.
Yoder, John Charles. 2003. Popular political culture, civil society, and state crisis in Libe-
ria. Lewiston: Edwin Mellen Press.
3 Political involvement
In this chapter the avenues ex-combatants perceived as open to them for political
participation will be investigated. Formerly, the ex-combatants have used vio-
lence as a form of political expression (Utas 2003, p. 15); the question now
is what alternatives do they see as being viable in the new regime? Where
and how do they involve themselves in politics? Previous knowledge of ex-
combatants’ political participation is sketchy at best; not enough research has
been done on this essential issue. Often the return to peace can lead to a sense
of powerlessness for ex-combatants (see e.g. West 2000, pp. 180f, 188, 191;
McKay 2004, pp. 19, 25; Nilsson 2008; Utas 2003, pp. 15, 229f). This would
give cause to expect a sense of frustration among ex-combatants, making them
a least likely case for political participation (although possibly more likely
for violent participation if this frustration builds up). However, there is some
evidence from Uganda that experience with violence can lead to more exten-
sive participation, among both ex-combatants and survivors (Blattman 2009;
Blattman and Annan 2009).
This chapter starts with a theoretical discussion concerning forms of politi-
cal participation. The chapter divides political participation as expressed by the
ex-combatants into participation through representational channels and extra-
representational channels, before discussing the sense of efficacy among the
participants. This division also underlines how different the evaluation of their
political involvement would be if only the traditionally recognized and legit-
imate channels of participation were considered. To get a full sense of their
political involvement, both arenas need to be considered. Institutions play an
important role in shaping the experiences and choices made by the ex-combatants
in the political arena. The inclusion of extra-representational channels diminiÂ�
shes the bias toward underestimating the ex-combatants’ degree of political
involvement.
While representative data would of course be extremely useful, such data on
ex-combatants that explore their political participation is almost non-existent.
However, the focus group data is perfectly poised to explore the extent to which
they feel able to participate, and thus address their degree of political involvement.
The small sample of ex-combatants in the Afrobarometer survey from Liberia will
56â•… Political involvement
be used in this chapter to provide some sense of the extent to which different chan-
nels of participation are used.
Avenues of political participation

Political participation speaks to the heart of democracy, as it acts as the driving
and legitimizing force of democracy. In fact, the quality of democracy can be said
to depend on the participation of its citizens (Teorell et al. 2007, p. 334; Dalton
2000, p. 927; Brady 1999, p. 737; Kuenzi 2006, p. 2; Dalton 2008; Belloni 2001,
p. 173). While participation and democracy are generally linked, the extent of par-
ticipation may not be. Here there is a lack of agreement in the debate: is extensive
participation a threat to, or necessary, for democracy (Blaug and Schwartzmantel
2001, p. 440; Ekman 2009, pp. 8f, 28)? Some would suggest that as long as citi-
zens feel like they can participate, it is better if they do not, as participation signals
discontent with current circumstances (see e.g. Berman 1997, p. 402). Similarly,
Amnå has argued that the crucial aspect is not whether citizens are participating,
but that they can and feel able to participate when they see a need to. Thus, the
ideal is a citizen on call rather than the perpetually active citizen (Amnå 2008,
p. 12f). While this chapter will not settle this debate, this chapter focuses on the
extent and the forms through which the ex-combatants feel able to participate.
Semi-democracies or new democracies are more vulnerable and possibly also
more prone to political violence (Mousseau 2001, pp. 550, 559, 563; Walter 2004,
p. 384; Schatzman 2005, p. 307), and while the use of political violence detracts
from the quality of democracy, it could open up a dangerous path back to war.
This highlights the importance of a political system that offers avenues of partici-
pation that appear viable to the citizens involved. Similarly, Walter argues that the
availability of avenues of political participation matter for peacebuilding (Walter
2004; see also Quinn et al. 2007, p. 181; Belloni 2001, p. 173). Importantly, feel-
ing like you have a voice in politics can be crucial for peacebuilding. Hence this
calls for an examination of the extent to which citizens feel they can have a voice,
and through what avenues they can seek such a voice. In order to understand this,
a more direct investigation of how individuals in a post-war environment think
about political participation is needed. Walter makes an additional point, namely
that the quality of life also impacts the likelihood that someone will take up arms
(Walter 2004, p. 372), highlighting the need to also understand what issues moti-
vate participation.
Before considering how this phenomenon should be measured, the theoretical
definitions of political participation need to be scrutinized. Originally focused on
voting, definitions of political participation now cover a broad range of activi-
ties, including campaign activities, citizen-initiated contacts, as well as collective
action and demonstrations. Definitions of political participation have highlighted
the importance of the activity being directed toward influencing government
activity (Verba and Nie 1972, pp. 45–54; Dalton 2000, p. 927), whereas, lately,
broader definitions have been espoused by many, both generally and in African
contexts (Brady 1999, p. 737; Teorell et al. 2007, p. 335f; Micheletti 2002, p. 229;
Political involvementâ•…57
Amnå 2008, p. 15; Logan and Bratton 2006, p. 15f; Dryzek 2002; O’Toole et al.
2003, pp. 46–50; Henn et al. 2002, p. 168f; Pratchett 1999). In contrast with Verba
and Nie, they reject the idea that political participation has to be directed toward
government; instead they claim that the political quality of the act is related to an
idea of a political outcome, and that this can be achieved through directing your
attempts at other bodies than government, thereby subscribing to the definition
put forward by Brady: “action by ordinary citizens directed toward influencing
some political outcomes” (Brady 1999, p. 737). This broader definition is also
adopted in this chapter, because, particularly in new or hybrid democracies, poli-
tics is played out differently, and non-conventional forms of participation may
be available and employed (Dalton 2000, p. 931; Logan and Bratton 2006, p. 15;
Ekman 2009, pp. 8f, 28; Barnes and Kaase 1979, p. 42).
This definition already implies that other arenas besides parliamentary politics
are open for political participation, however the issue of what is termed political
and what can be seen as an act of participation are still unclear. There is a fair
amount of ambiguity in relation to what is political and what is not, as acts which
may be political in nature may be motivated by non-political issues (e.g. enjoy-
ment and material motives) (Verba et al. 1995, pp. 40–2; see also Platt 2008; Craig
1979, p. 233). This is particularly true regarding voting (see e.g. Kuenzi 2006, p. 7;
Chabal and Daloz 1999, p. 154; Verba and Nie 1972, p. 52) as well as in terms of
contacting politicians (see e.g. Verba and Nie 1972, pp. 64–9; Teorell et al. 2007,
pp. 340–3). Both of these forms may have very real political outcomes, yet the pos-
sibility of making distinctions in terms of motivation has been greatly exaggerated.
Including motivations for participation in the definition of political participation,
while possibly ideal, is fraught with problems, and in some cases leads to absurd
conclusions, such as the exclusion of voting as a form of political participation.
In relation to what makes something an act of political participation, several
would exclude, for example, discussing politics in private, or in the media (Verba
et al. 1995, pp. 37–40, 42–6; Teorell et al. 2007, p. 336f), and while there is no
agreement on whether or not to include the discussion of politics as a form of
participation, it is not uncommon to include it (Brady 1999, pp. 771–3). It may
even be possible that such forms are more important in emerging democracies,
as traditional channels of participation may not be seen as available to the same
extent (Micheletti 2006, pp. 7, 19–20; Walter 2004; Knight and Özerdem 2004).
Clearly, there are many possible ways of delineating and defining political
participation. Determining what is political is difficult, and what should count
as participation is not clear-cut either, nor in what forum participation should be
enacted in. But, the crucial question in this chapter is what ex-combatants feel
they can do: What avenues of political participation do ex-combatants see as
open to them?
Exploring ideas about political participation in Liberia

How should conceptions of political participation be measured in the case of
ex-combatants in Liberia? Going through a list of prescribed activities, which is the
most typical approach, was not used. Using such an approach has its problems,
such as memory issues or over-reporting (Brady 1999, pp. 741, 774), but, more
importantly, using the approach of a prescribed list of activities assumes that the
existing categories of activities are well-known, and whether or not they are polit-
ical in that particular context. Instead, the so called problems and needs approach
(Brady 1999, pp. 740, 788–9) was used as it enabled an open definition of political
participation. This is particularly appropriate within the context of focus groups,
and in relation to the theme of this chapter. This chapter will thereby present an
account of how the ex-combatants see their ability to participate politically and
how such choices are understood.
The participants were asked to identify problems in their community (locally
or nationally) and, proceeding from that, asked how they would go about chang-
ing these conditions. Thus the forms of participation mentioned are those that
appeared the most salient given their current situation. This focus also stresses
what they feel is possible, thereby avoiding the potential pitfall of construing
actual participation as something indicative of discontent. As these options of
participation were discussed in relation to community problems that needed rec-
tifying, this should at least increase the possibility that these are acts of a political
nature. In addition, as they were asked how they would go about changing these
problems, the focus is on activities related to potentially new outcomes, thereby
generating responses that can be construed as political acts of participation.
If the participants had trouble pinpointing ways to act, or had exhausted one
form, alternative ways of participating were suggested, such as approaching the
government in different ways, voting, protesting, campaigning, or more unortho-
dox forms of political behavior such as the use of magic (see e.g. Chabal and
Daloz 1999, pp. 63–76). Sometimes these suggestions were agreed with, but most
of the time the ex-combatants did not see them as useful ways of participating.
This approach does not enable a discussion of the complete universe of forms of
participation among ex-combatants, but it offers something more crucial, namely
what forms of participation are seen as fruitful, and possibly also some insight as
to the motivation for such activities.
Thus political participation was not investigated through pre-determined cat-
egories, but only organized into schemata of categories of participation after the
interviews. The forms of participation that were voiced among the ex-combat-
ants are presented using a categorization scheme suggested by Teorell, Torcal
and Montero, in particular based on the channel of expression. The channel of
expression relates to whether representational bodies are involved or if non-
representational bodies are involved, such as companies or the media (Teorell
et al. 2007, pp. 340–3), and has been used for structuring the presentation below.
Given the weakness of the state, that makes sense. After all, who should ex-
combatants engage with when attempting to influence society? Such choices naturally
depend on who is seen as influential and worth the effort: Who has resources to
divide? Who is present and accessible? Who is efficient and trustworthy? These
are issues that matter when deciding in which arena the ex-combatants want to
participate. Clearly, this is an area where the ex-combatants’ relationship with
politics is shaped by the institutional environment in which they find themselves.
Allowing all arenas of political action to count should reduce the bias that comes
from assuming that they are active in a fully democratic system.
Identified problems
In general, the groups exhibited very similar perceptions about current problems
in Liberia, both in terms of the range of problems as well as their relative impor-
tance. First, and foremost, was the lack of food, and in particular the high price
of rice (G4, U2, M1, M2, M3, L1, Y1, Y2, Y3, F1, F2 and F3). The high price in
general of goods (clothes, gas, soap, cement) was also seen as a problem (G3, M2,
M3 and F2). The issue of food was, however, the main issue. Rice was noted to
have been cheaper during the war, and one participant expressed in relation to the
lack and price of food: “even during the war I was not feeling this bad” (Lyman,
M2). The high prices were judged to be even “worse than the gun” (M2). The high
price of rice was even seen as a war risk, as “the rice business brought the war”
before (Y2).1 Clearly, these comments highlight the seriousness of the issue, but
only coupled with the feeling that normal politics cannot address it do these senti-
ments become acutely worrying.
After the problem of food came the lack of employment opportunities, espe-
cially among the youth (U1, U3, M1, M2, M3, L1, L2, Y3, F1 and F3). For one
group this was clearly connected to the possibility of the youth causing trouble, as
the lack of a job would lead to loitering and a lack of respect:
If I got time to work, I will not get time to play and rob you, I will devote my
time to my job. […] But there is no job. That is why you see people around,
loitering around. So that is the number one thing bringing problem in this
country.
(Harvey, F3)
In connection with this, several also mentioned problems of education: tuition

fees that cannot be paid; teachers that blackmail you for money; lack of schools;
reintegration training that had not been delivered; and the interruption of school-
ing as a result of the war (G3, U1, U3, M1, M3, L1, L2, Y3 and F1).
Quite a few groups also mentioned problems related to government. Corruption
and nepotism were common accusations (U3, M2, M3, L1, Y1, F1 and F3), and a
feeling of abandonment by the government (U3, M1, M2, F3 and Y3), or the lack
of a good leader or feeling mistreated by the leaders in the country (F3 and U3).
Several groups also noted the government’s failure to handle the economy prop-
erly (M2, Y2 and F1). Criticism of the government as a whole will be discussed
in the next chapter as well.
Some of the groups mentioned criminality and violence as problems that
plague Liberia (Y1, L2 and Y3). In addition to these problems, the groups men-
tioned the lack of infrastructure (G1), the dormant investment climate in Liberia,
particularly in relation to the agricultural sector (G2 and F1), the lack of medical
facilities and basic hygiene (toilets) (G1 and U1 and U3), women’s lack of access
to their own money (G2), and, finally, one group felt that it is foreigners who bring
problems to Liberia (M2).
How does this problem ranking among the focus group ex-combatants com-
pare with the Afrobarometer data from Liberia? The trend is fairly similar, both
among ex-combatants on their own, and the general population as a whole. The
top three issues for the ex-combatants were employment, education and health.
The main difference is that in terms of food, this issue only comes in at ninth
place; however, the category refers to its shortage, not the price level which is
the problem in Liberia (see Table B.1, Appendix B). In the population as a whole,
the management of the economy was an important problem not mentioned by the
ex-combatants. Another national survey of Liberians conducted in 2010 recorded
education, employment and health services as the most important priorities for the
government to handle (Vinck et al. 2011, p. 28f).
Participation through representational channels

Some of the avenues proposed by the ex-combatants belong to the realm of
representational bodies, in a sense, participation inside the state. This section
covers such activities as voting, campaigning and contacting politicians and
officials.
Voting
Voting2 was rarely viewed as a way to change society by the ex-combatants them-
selves, but rather it was only when asked whether voting could be an option that
some conceded that it was. Most of the participants said that they had voted in the
2005 election, and several planned to vote in the next one. Thus it was the norm
among all the participants to vote if you were able to, even if voting was not seen
as a way of addressing political concerns. The few who were unable to vote cited
sickness, registration problems, or being underage as the reason. This claim is also
supported by a survey carried out in Monrovia among ex-combatants, where as
many as 80 percent declared that they had voted (Bøås and Hatløy 2008, p. 50),
and in the Afrobarometer data where as many as 95.2 percent of the ex-combatants
claim to have voted, significantly higher than the national voter turnout level (see
Table 3.1). There were three main motives for voting: personal gains, commu-
nity gains and the rights argument. However, several of them still had hesitations
about the ability of elections to solve community problems. These hesitations, as
well as the rarity of the event, may help explain why this form of participation was
not commonly thought of as a way to solve community problems.
Two groups were odd in the sense that they did not express any doubts con-
cerning elections as a way to influence society, rather they emphasized the ability
of elections to create accountability: “we can remove them” and that it was the
ballot box that gave them the main chance to change things (L2). Similarly in
group F3:
the citizens can come to the president and say you have to resign. […] the
president is what? – ELECTED. And we can take the president from power.
So we got ALL the power to decision to take against the country.
(Hassan, F3)
Vote buying, in the form of money, rice, or smaller local projects, has been common
in Liberia for a long time, and was confirmed during the elections of 2005 (Sawyer
2008, p. 195; Barr and Moor 2005). Clearly, if vote buying is part of the electoral
process, if the elections become about the exchange of material resources rather than
registering political preferences, then casting a vote is no longer the same type of
political act as in the latter case (Chabal and Daloz 1999, p. 154). However, just as
Lindberg has noted, vote buying can be an important part of signaling a willingness
to care for the constituents on the part of the candidate (Lindberg 2003, p. 124). For
some, the issue of vote buying decreased the ability of elections to really matter:
What happen here is that, for Liberia, when election is coming, that’s the time
most of the politicians turn to be very good and be very generous. So that’s
the situation. Those of us, maybe because of the poverty situation we find
ourselves in, in Liberia and Africa, and every time we bow to it.
(Elliot, F1)
Elliot continues and explains that most people are ready to have their votes bought
for rice, and since most people are involved in vote buying, they will dictate the
outcome of the election, and not the people that vote based on issues. Another
group recognized vote buying in a different sense, namely that politicians should
do things for the citizens, before they get your vote, you had to “pay the youth to
follow you” (M3).
Motivation based on personal gains, i.e. vote buying, was judged very differ-
ently by the groups. In some groups (G3, L1 and F1) this behavior was seen as
reprehensive and one of the problems of politics in Liberia, whereas for other
groups (G1, G2 and G4) the complaint was more about failed promises. Politicians
would make promises in exchange for votes, leaving the ex-combatants feeling
let down. This experience led them to question the honesty of all politicians. In
Table 3.1â•‡ Voting in national electionsa
Q 23D: With regard to the most recent, 2005 national elections, which statement is true
for you?
Public Ex-combatants
You voted in the elections 77.2% (894) 95.2% (40)

All other responses (not voted) 22.8% (264) 4.8% (2)
Total 100.0% (1,158) 100.0% (42)
Note
a Equal variances not assumed. t = 5.082, df = 54.730, p-value = 0.000. Number within parenthesis is n.
other groups (G4, U1 and M1), participants expressed experience with vote buy-
ing, but without evaluating the event positively or negatively. Hester presented an
exception in her group (F2). She wanted to be paid next time, in order to get at
least something out of the election, as she was feeling quite disappointed by failed
campaign promises (although her candidate won) (F2 and M3). Given the history
of vote buying, it is not surprising that this view and experience still lingers on.
What is more surprising and promising is that, although having experienced this
behavior, several are condemning it as inappropriate behavior.
Those that were motivated by community gains (G3, G4, U3, M2, M3, L1, Y1,
Y3, F1 and F3) often mentioned development (trade, investors, and work opportuni-
ties) and peace, or for the price of rice to come down. Often the need to get a good
leader was cited as the main reason why they voted (G3, U2, U3, M1, M2, M3, L1,
L2, Y2 and F3). A good leader was also seen as instrumental toward the goal of
increasing foreign investment and development, or creating freedom in the country,
making the country better, or reconciling the people of Liberia. Some groups also
mentioned the idea that voting and the election as such helps unite the country and
create understanding (U1, M1 and Y2). A few also expressed the more explicit argu-
ment of representation, that voting was about selecting those that could represent
your interests, or the interests of the people (U1, Y1, L2 and Y3), or at least those
that could advance your interests the most: “but I think about my future plan. […] I
only think what … who will be usually best for me. You know, yeah. That I’ll vote
for. Not because you … what you give me, I will vote for you” (Bill, G3).
Others also made the argument that it was their right to vote according to the
constitution, hence they felt motivated to exercise it. Not using your vote meant
that you were giving up your say in the process, which could be detrimental to
the voter, but also the specific candidates and for the overall result (U2, M1, M3,
Y1, L2 and F1). Similarly, group F2 and F3 felt that voting was a way to express
your citizenship.
The weight of elections, i.e. whether elections had the potential to change
things, was often iterated, although some also stated that elections can bring
both good and bad things, and the outcome depended upon the character of those
elected (Bart, G3). This theme will be visible in the next chapter as well, in the
discussion of dependency on individuals and the fragility of political regimes in
general. Others explicitly mentioned that elections are not the only way to change
things (U1). Interestingly, while most agreed that elections were useful, it was
never at the top of the list when the participants discussed various forms of politi-
cal participation. At the same time, the elections seem to provide the main point
of interaction with politicians for a majority of the groups.
The issue of failed campaign promises was also seen as a limit on the ability of
elections to matter (U1, Y2, Y3 and F2). Typical responses included: “politicians
say a lot of things at elections” (Hedwig, F2) and “people pretend to be good, but
their inner motive is different” (Y3). A fair number of groups also questioned the
use of elections, as the results could be and were tampered with (M1, M2, M3,
Y1, Y3 and F1). The ex-combatants in the Afrobarometer sample seemed to be
more polarized on the issue of the fairness of the election: 24.3 percent did not
see the election as free and fair, while 43.2 percent rated the election as com-
pletely free and fair (see Table B.2, Appendix B).3 As noted before, corruption and
nepotism were seen as some of the culprits, implying that the National Elections
Commission was not neutral, and others saw the international community and the
Americans as the ones to be blamed. Finally, one group did not feel competent
enough to determine whether voting was an efficient avenue or not (U2).
In terms of whether they want to vote again in the future, most participants
answered in the affirmative: “We still want development. – We vote for develop-
ment” (Bethany and Barbra, G4). Thus, the issues that motivated them in the last
election remain relevant for their motivation in the next election. There were, how-
ever, a few exceptions to this. Group G2 did not feel motivated to vote next time,
nor did John in group M1, simply because he felt lied to. The others in group M1,
especially Jeff, disagreed with John and argued for his future participation, as it
was the only way to “make the country straight.” One participant also added that
next time he would “shut [his] eye,” i.e. not listen to politicians and be fooled, but
only take his own opinions into consideration when voting (Brandon, G3). Very
few were explicit about using their vote to punish politicians who had failed them
during the previous mandate (creating accountability) (U1, U3, L2 and F1) (see
also Bratton and Logan 2006). Several in group M2 did not feel motivated to vote
again. One participant said that he did not want to vote next time, because he was
not satisfied, and that he could not be forced to vote. The idea of using the election
to create accountability did not strike him. Adam (Y3) did not feel motivated to
vote again because the act seemed pointless to him, having created no change in the
entire history of Liberia. The others in the group did not go as far, but said that they
would only vote for someone they trust, and that person was Weah, hence only if
he ran again would they vote. Here it becomes clear that many ex-combatants felt
discouraged by the experience of losing to such an extent that it caused them to exit
politics rather than using their voice (see also Anderson and Mendes 2005, p. 97).
The ex-combatants do not seem to differ from the general population, regarding
voter turnout; voting was carried out in large numbers. The issue of vote buying is
more worrisome, although there is critique of such behavior, hence an awareness of
what democratic behavior should be. In addition, representative issues or commu-
nity concerns matter for motivation. Overall, there is reason for a positive appraisal,
especially since most feel motivated to vote again; the vote seems to represent one
not irrelevant way to participate in the democratic process for ex-combatants.
Some of the ex-combatants are clearly aspiring to higher ideals, particularly
vis-à-vis motivation for voting. The notion of vote buying as something reprehen-
sible and the notion of representation are part of the electoral political culture of
ex-combatants. This is noteworthy, particularly in the face of the otherwise weak
political institutions in Liberia.
Campaigning and canvassing

Several of the participants in the urban groups were either members of a party,
or had aided in the campaigns (especially on the side of George Weah) (M1, M2,
M3, L1, Y1, Y3, F1 and F2). Mostly these campaign activities included participat-
ing in marches. Related activities also included trying to persuade people to join
them and vote for Weah, to mobilize people for their party. The participants that
campaigned did so for CDC, with the exception of group F2 who campaigned for
the Liberian Action Party.4 Group Y2 did not feel that party work was an option,
due to their relatively low feeling of efficacy: it is “hard for one person to change
[a] group of people” (Yona, Y2). In group U1, campaign activities were men-
tioned as a possibility.
Contacting politicians
The issue of contacting politicians was often mentioned by the groups without
prompting (G1, G3, G4, U2, U3, L1, L2, Y1, Y2 and M3). Quite a few in the groups
were also able to name their representative in the House of Representatives. Again,
these findings are corroborated with the Afrobarometer data, where ex-combatants
were significantly more prone to contacting local government officials than the
public (31.0 percent reporting a few times and 7.1 percent often – see Table 3.2).
Some of the groups had a greater sense efficacy in terms of the possibility of being
heard by politicians.
Several groups clearly portrayed a very hierarchical access network, where
they could only turn to the local leaders, who in turn would direct their opinions
upward. This was evident from either the feeling of only being able to contact the
assistants of politicians, or going through the chain of the District Development
Committee, the House of Representatives and finally the President (G1, G2, G4,
U3, M1, M3, L1, Y2 and Y3). Politics, while seen primarily as an issue of per-
sonal networks and contacts, emerges as a very hierarchical enterprise in the eyes
of the ex-combatants.
Several groups expressed faith in their ability to be heard by government (G3,
G4, L1, L2 and Y1). They felt that politicians would listen, because “they do not
want to hurt your feelings,” or because “If you speak the truth they will hear you.”
(Shiloh, L2, and G3). Thus, group L2 envisioned, as their first line of action, mak-
ing proposals to the government through sitting down and thinking about it, writing
Table 3.2â•‡ Contacting local government officialsa
Q 25A: During the past year, how often have you contacted any of the following persons (local
government official) about some important problem or to give them your views?
Never 69.8% (805) 57.1% (24)

Only once 11.8% (136) 4.8% (2)
A few times 12.1% (140) 31.0% (13)
Often 6.3% (73) 7.1% (3)
Total 100.0% (1,154) 100.0% (42)
Note
a Chi-square = 13.926, df = 3, p-value = 0.003. Number within parenthesis is n.
it all down, and then sending the proposal to the national legislature, who will then
debate on it and then pass a law. Group Y1 also envisioned petitioning and writing
to their representatives in the House of Representatives. In addition, it was impor-
tant to them that such action would be documented, so that people would know (the
media, people in general and their children) that the ex-combatants had contributed
positively to the future of Liberia. No matter whether such a response from the
government is likely or not, their sentiments clearly show a great sense of efficacy.
Several groups, however, were less confident about their voices being heard
by government (U1, U2, U3, M1, M3, Y2, Y3, F2 and F3). They felt that power
did not lie with them, as they were too insignificant for those with power to notice
them or respect their views. Expressing this subordinate position, a participant in
group U2 said that: “You have to beg them, step by step,” and in group M1 that:
“We can’t bring changes. The Government has to help us.” Similarly, in group F3,
Harvey said: “There is nothing we can do, we have no power with the govern-
ment,” and in relation to protesting he felt that: “At the end of the day, they will
take you away to prison compound. So you have NO power,” and in group U3
Matthew expressed the following: “That is the game of power. They don’t listen
to anybody.” Again, these sentiments paint a picture of politics as a hierarchical
enterprise, casting the ex-combatants in roles of subjects rather than as citizens.
When asked why politicians do not listen, the participants said that it was
because they only care for themselves, and since they or their families are abroad
they will carry any money they get out of the country (U3, F3, Y2 and M3). In
particular, Morris in group U3 described it in the following way:
But at the political level, you think about political office you need to work
not only for you and your family, but for the ENTIRE country. [agreement
from the group] But now the problem here is that they do the political job
just like an ordinary job, they only work for them and their family, not for
the masses. Not only your family. If you get political power, […] the country
comes first […]. The president or whatever, when they get there, they want to
serve their immediate needs, but the job is for the entire country, it is not an
individual job. So that is the problem. That is the main problem that we face
in the political system now.
Some groups, while doubting that they would be heard by the government, did
express a way around that: expressing your feelings on the radio during talk shows
(M3, U3 and F2).
Participation outside representational channels

Avenues of participation outside the scope of representational channel is the
subject matter for this section.. This section covers acts that make use of extra-
representational channels, such as contacting and deliberation, and acts of
cooperation, such as pressure groups, protests and violence. Though these forms do
not make use of representational channels, they are at times directed in the long
run toward the government. These channels of participation are important because
they help describe the full range of their political involvement. This section is then
followed by a section which discusses the general feeling of efficacy among the ex-
combatants (and the possible reliance on supernatural forces in politics), as it is an
important facet for understanding political participation among the ex-combatants.
Contacting and deliberating

As many felt that politicians and the elected representatives did not listen, nor
were likely to, especially if you lived in a rural area which the politicians were
unlikely to visit, or would cheat you if they did, you should address yourself to
other people instead. While this was common among the rural groups (G1, G2,
G3 and L1), it was also mentioned in the urban ones (Y1 and M3). While some
felt that going via international non-governmental organizations (NGOs) was a
way to get the ear of the government (Curtis, Y1), others felt that the government
should not be involved at all in solving the problems, rather the international
community should interact directly with local communities and the government
bypassed (M3). Contacting NGOs and the international community was seen as
an important alternative when regular channels of participation fail.
Another option was addressing oneself to the media. This channel of expres-
sion can on the one hand be seen as a roundabout way of contacting government,
but also as an avenue clearly outside the realm of representational channels. First,
this was seen as a diplomatic way of getting your views to government, going on
talk shows on the radio for instance (U3, Y1, M3, F1 and F2). Given the media
situation in Liberia, the focus on radio is understandable.5 While the print media
is not on the backburner, radio channels are much more accessible. Particularly
in rural areas, the radio is the main source of political news. Some were hesitant
about this option, as they either had doubts about being heard through that avenue
(Y2) or because it was seen as a waste of money (charging your cell phone) that
could be used for food instead: “Yes you can call in and express your views [but]
I see it as nonsense. […] you spoil your money” (Lyman, M2). Or, it would be
shunned as an option, as it was seen as too risky:
Sometime you will do a call to radio station, they will persuade you to know
where you are calling from, they will trace your number. […] I would like
to express my comments on government. […] they say you talking against
government. Then you expecting to see police. So the FEAR, the RISK.
(Hakeem, F3)
This fear was also recognized in group U3, and some suggested that you make
music instead to convey your opinions to the public. Alex in group Y3, however,
felt that “they will listen to us, if this is not a dictatorship.” While the bulk (78.3
percent) of the ex-combatants in the Afrobarometer claimed that they had never
contacted media when they perceive a problem in local government, the ex-
combatants tend to contact more often than the public (see Table B.3, Appendix B).
Table 3.3â•‡ Discuss problems with other people in the communitya
Q 62A: In the past year, have you yourself seen any problems with how local government
is run? How often, if at all, did you do any of the following:
(A) Discuss the problem with other people in your community
Never 15.3% (81) 34.8% (8)

Only once 41.1% (218) 8.7% (2)
A few times 34.0% (180) 39.1% (9)
Often 9.6% (51) 17.4% (4)
Total 100.0% (530) 100.0% (23)
Note
Talking on the radio was an important option, not only because politicians
might hear you, but because the act of expressing your views as such was impor-
tant (U3, Y1, Y3, M3 and F2). For instance Chad in Y1 said: “if you don’t
express yourself, no one is going to know what is going on”. This also resonates
with their understanding of democracy as related to deliberation. In group Y3,
talk shows were the first thing that was mentioned, as, according to them, people
in Liberia like to talk and express themselves. Thus, even “street talk” was one
option according to Alex (Y3). Whether or not this form of deliberation can be
construed as political participation can be discussed, but it is a clear indication of
political engagement (see e.g. Nie et al. 1996, p. 21). Using Afrobarometer data,
the ex-combatants that discuss politics with others when they perceive a problem
in local government do so more often than the general population (see Table 3.3).
Pressure groups
The ex-combatants also gave examples of using pressure groups and organizing
certain elements of society as well as addressing problems through the use of
local community work. In this area, there is no significant difference between ex-
combatants and the public at large, but as many as 80.9 percent claim they have
once or twice, several times or often attended a community meeting during the
past year (see Table B.4, Appendix B).
Only one group explicitly mentioned the idea of using pressure groups, namely
student organizations. Notably, this group was made up of university students.
Such organizations were seen as a way to create “awareness to other people who
are still blind” (F1). Historically, student organizations have been a political force
to be reckoned with in Liberia (Toure 2002, p. 2). Others felt that organizing
the market women would be one way to exert pressure on the government (Y2).
Group M1 also felt that if the marketers would suggest something to the President
or other politicians, they would be listened to. The market women in Monrovia are
known to be a political force in Liberia (Moran 2006, p. 50).
Some groups saw their church as a channel to influence government, either
because your pastor could carry your views forward or because the church could
invite the President or the like to come and talk with people at the church (Y1 and
M1). Historically, the religious community in Liberia has been a major factor in
civil society (Toure 2002, p. 2; Burrowes 2004), and as such more groups were
expected to mention this possibility. However, ex-combatants are significantly
more prone toward contacting religious leaders compared to the general public
(79.5 percent reporting a few times or often, compared to 30.8 percent in general;
see Table B.5, Appendix B).
In group Y3, Alex had experienced how local community work can change
things, and thus recommended that people organize themselves at the local com-
munity level. Once they had done that, then they should contact their district
representative so that their representative could see what they had done and there-
fore gain confidence in them and their ideas.
Violence and protests

The use of violence and protest as forms of political participation are of particular
importance from a peacebuilding perspective. As this has been a part of their war-
time experience it also seems reasonable to expect that such forms of participation
would be readily at hand at war’s end. Moran also makes the argument that the use
of violence in politics is, in part, seen as legitimate in Liberia (Moran 2006, p. 41).
As social desirability bias may dampen their willingness to suggest such forms,
the moderator stressed that other groups had suggested such forms and also gave
current examples of events of that nature.
Concerning the avenue of protest, often this topic was introduced through a
question of whether or not using protests would get the government to listen to
you. The use of protest was mainly rejected by all those that discussed the topic.
There were a few exceptions (Y3, M3 and F1), although all of them were very
clear about the need for such demonstrations to be peaceful. Earl (F1) said that
demonstrations were a legal option, and that, even if permission was denied by
the Ministries, you still had the right to “take to the streets,” but “your rights
have limitations, because where your rights end, others’ rights begin,” hence the
need to be peaceful. Some participants in these groups questioned whether that
was at all possible; Alex said that he had “never seen a peaceful demonstration
in Africa ever” and that “We as Liberians need to resist demonstrations” (Alex,
Y3). Similarly Eric (F1) did not think demonstrations were a good alternative,
as it would further the stigmatization of ex-combatants, and they would just be
ignored as “ex-combatants making noise.” For these groups, demonstrations were
conceded to sometimes be “very, very necessary,” for instance if the price of rice
continues to go up. Earl in group F1, however, also suggested several alternatives
to outright protests, such as the “go-slow action, stay home action” and using
boycotts, as these alternatives would be more peaceful and controlled. Related
to their discussion of protests, participants in F1 noted that one way they could
impact politics was to use the rights accorded to them in the constitution, such as
impeaching the executive, as former AFL soldiers had recently tried to do,6 “in
order to make these politicians know that we really mean business in this country”
(participant, F1).
Several groups did, however, reject the alternative outright (U1, U3, M1, M2,
Y1, L2, F2 and F3). The main reason for this was the inherent risk of such protests
to turn violent, which would cause more problems. Common responses were:
“No! We as ex-combatants decided not to demonstrate” (Curtis, Y1); “it will not
be good. Because we want peace. People will be afraid. […] it will bring more
problems to the country” (Hedwig, F2); “you can beat your friend and die on the
spot” (Frank, U1); and “It will lead to the destruction of life” (Jeff, M1); “they can
do that. I prefer the radio. I cannot do that. I am a peaceful citizen, I cannot do that.
Maybe there will be another riot or violence, so prefer this. We have seen what
violence and demonstration can bring.” (Murray, U3); and “carry out peaceful
demonstration, they BEAT you FINE.” (Hassan, F3). Participating in a demon-
stration was also seen as something that could lead to imprisonment (M2 and F3).
Protesting was also shunned because it implied a stigmatization of them as
ex-combatants, as people would say that protesters are ex-combatants and “We
don’t want to hear that name again, so we just calm down” (M2 and F3). They
also expressed a sense of responsibility and prioritizing, for example, Jeff (M1)
felt that “more lives have been destroyed. We don’t want that to continue. So we
sit down, even though nothing is fine,” and similarly Harvey in F3 said: “we are
free, but we just sit down. Until God time.” Finally, protesting without permission
was seen as a violation of the constitution, and you were unlikely to get permis-
sion anyway (M1 and L2).
While protests can be part of a democratic society’s political scene (see e.g.
Anderson and Mendes 2005, p. 98), in the Liberian context this alternative carries
connotations of conflict and violence. This conflictual form of participation is
therefore avoided, at least theoretically for these participants. While no signifi-
cant differences were found between the general public and the ex-combatants in
the Afrobarometer survey, 16.7 percent of the ex-combatants reported that they
had attended at least one demonstration or protest march during the past year
(see Chapter 4, Table 4.1). Such levels of protest would have to be considered
fairly high.7
Most groups did not enter into a discussion concerning violence on their own,
but were prompted to consider whether the use of violence could be a way to
change things. When they did, it was sequential to the discussion of protests and
demonstrations, again reinforcing the link between protests and violence.
Violence was rejected by all groups that discussed the topic (G1, G2, U2, U3,
M1, M2, M3, Y1, Y2, L2, F1 and F3).8 Typical responses included: “We for-
get about violence now. We go through dialogue” (Gomer, G1), “violence cannot
solve problem” (Bill, G3), “You can’t convince people that way. Violence can
make you do things you don’t want to” (participant in U2), or “We don’t use
violence now” (Jeff, M1). Using violence was also rejected as it would not con-
vince other people of your point of view or solve the problem at hand. Group Y2
said that it spoils things rather than fix them, and that violence was the reason for
their current suffering. They also compared it to how they raise children: while
violence may have an immediate impact, in the long run it creates more problems.
Group L2 felt that even if politicians do not listen, they had to continue with dip-
lomatic means to try and get their ear, and that going back to old ways, i.e. using
violence, was no longer an alternative.
Although all the groups denied the use of violence, some did recognize that it
is still seen as an option. Notably, Elliot in group F1 admitted that some groups in
Liberia still see it that way:
I think there are still people who are in the habit […] maybe because we
fought the war here before in this country, people just believe in violence […]
every time even the man and the woman go to the house, they are fighting
while doing small thing. Maybe it has just grown in to us because of the war
situation.
(Elliot, F1)
Similarly, group M3 rejected violence, but Vito added that: “If I am hungry I am
not satisfied, I will not understand. I will not listen to you, I will be angry. If prices
go up, things will go bad. That is how fighting will come.” Echoing Vito’s state-
ment, Elliot in group F1 said that: “Once you see the economic hardship, people
start to think about violence. Violence can’t solve the problem. For some of us, the
university knowledge that we have, we know that the increase in prices is not only
with Liberia.” This line of reasoning certainly highlights Walter’s point about the
connection between living conditions and willingness to take up arms again (Walter
2004, p. 372). In a study of ex-combatants in Lofa County, the authors also note
that relief from poverty was an important factor in explaining willingness to take
up arms again (Hill et al. 2008, p. 3f). Also, Lesley in M2 believed things could be
changed through the use of violence, whereas Lawrence and Leo clearly disagreed.
Similarly, one participant in group F3 clearly expressed a longing to take up arms
again related to a discussion of the lack of freedom of speech in Liberia:
When this continue going on, this country will not be at peace. […] Then I
hear that someone go fighting against it, I like to go on that side. Because
why? I not satisfied. It is not easy for me. This government is not safe for me. […]
majority of the police officers, when we were ex-combatants holding arms,
they were civilians then. Now they are the ones holding arm, and presently
we are not holding arm. So they capitalize on the PAST event! […] I do not
do anything, […] just to punish me. The man slap my ear.
(Hakeem, F3)
A participant in L1 also noted that life was better when they were active in the
war. Thus while violence is rejected by most of them within the confines of their
own behavior, several groups recognized that this was still an option within poli-
tics in Liberia.9 Comparing these findings to the Afrobarometer, it is important to
note that the ex-combatants were significantly more prone toward using force or
Table 3.4â•‡ Use of force or violence for a political causea
Q 23: Here is a list of actions that people sometimes take as citizens. For each of these,
please tell me whether you, personally, have done any of these things during the past
year. If not would you do this if you had the chance?
Used force or violence for a political cause
Would never do this 86.7% (968) 67.4% (29)

Would if had the chance 7.3% (81) 20.9% (9)
Once or twice 3.6% (40) 7.0% (3)
Several times 1.4% (16) 2.3% (1)
Often 1.1% (12) 2.3% (1)
Total 100.0% (1,117) 100.0% (43)b
Notes
b Due to sampling procedures, the sample is weighted, making it appear as if there are more than 42
ex-combatants.
violence for a political cause than the public, indeed 11.6 percent claimed they
had done so once or twice, several times or often during the last year, and as many
as 20.9 percent say they would if they had the chance to (see Table 3.4).
Efficacy and God

The experience of efficacy is closely related to avenues of participation. More
importantly, it is central to an appreciation of the ex-combatants’ sense of political
involvement. The degree and the forms of participation are dependent on the indi-
vidual’s sense of external and internal efficacy. External efficacy refers to one’s
appraisal of the responsiveness of the political system as a whole, and internal
efficacy to the appraisal of one’s own ability to participate, and of how accessible
different channels are to the individual’s attempt at influencing (Craig et al. 1990,
p. 290; Craig 1979, p. 229; for a discussion of further distinctions, see Westholm
and Niemi 1986, pp. 60–2; Adman 2004, p. 26). Hence internal efficacy is central
to whether or not you feel as if you have a political voice.
Some groups and participants were very clear about their own ability to impact
(particularly the participants in F1 and U3, but also M1, M3, Y3, and some participants
in F2, as well as only in relation to their personal life in U2). Joshua in M1 noted that
“We the young people we expect to take care of the country now, to bring changes. We
will bring democracy here. […] We will change this place! I don’t care if we are from a
poor place. We will do that.” Similarly, one participant in group U3 said that:
He [George Weah] is a citizen. He is a citizen, who is free to take part of

anything, like anyone. Even me, I am a carpenter, I can take part in … I can
become a president, it doesn’t mean I cannot go there because I am a carpenter.
(Morris, U3)
Similarly, Vito in group M3 felt truly able to impact the election of leaders in
Liberia.
However, expressions of a low sense of internal efficacy were more common
(M1, M2, M3, Y2, U1, U2, G1, G3, F2, F3 and to a lesser extent in F1), often
coupled with a low sense of external efficacy (U1, U2, M1, M2, Y2, Y3 and
F2). Some of the participants and groups felt that engaging in politics themselves
was not an effective manner of impacting society or their own lives. As a result,
they instead favored farming, working to feed yourself or going back to school:
“That’s the only way we can help ourselves. […] Everything is difficult for us”
(Bart, G3). This opinion was clearly linked to a sense of powerlessness and leth-
argy, for example: “We cannot do anything” (M2), “the community has no power”
(Yona, Y2), or “There is nothing we can do, we have no power with the govern-
ment” (Harvey, F3). Talking about the president, Valentino (M3) noted: “She will
not listen to me. Because who am I to say anything to her?” Hence, in group M3,
different participants noted rather varying degrees of internal efficacy. Politics in
general was therefore seen as rather meaningless for these participants, and their
sense of internal efficacy was low.
The sense of powerlessness expressed by the ex-combatants was often fol-
lowed by references to God. Different avenues of participation that seemed futile
were then handed over to God, to do with what he pleases (M1, M2, M3 and
F2). Several groups also saw God as an omnipotent entity that shaped politics in
forceful ways (Y1, Y3, M2 and M3).10 For some it implied hope (F2), whereas for
others it meant a clear withdrawal from politics (M2, M3 and F3). For example,
someone in group F3 said that “you feel powerless, can’t do nothing. Praying till
God time can come,” whereas a participant in M3 noted that “Ask God to show
the way, because I do not know,” and Hank (F3) expressed it thus:
Especially, nothing can go on in this country now, without people saying it

is ex-combatants, so because of this thing, we that have been in that system,
just decided to put everything aside and concentrate on God. If you know you
are a business man, you are a student, you are a security, whatsoever, you just
do that to sustain your life. Yeah. But, you don’t have whole bag and then
involve yourself in politics, in government affairs, you will only be delaying
your time. […] Carry yourself backward.
Some did express a sense of internal efficacy even in relation to God; although
God may decide, you still had to try yourself: “yes, but you have to try by yourself,
improve yourself. Go to school, and learn, so you can be SOMEBODY tomorrow,
and change yourself” (Helen, F2). Some also felt that ex-combatants are willing to
change and participate (Adam, Y3). The young girls of group U2, who in general
were very hesitant about their ability to influence society as a whole (low internal
efficacy), still felt positive about their ability to change their own lives and for
their future to continue to improve.
In some groups, when it was suggested that perhaps magic or witchcraft could
be used to influence government this was never picked up by the participants.
For instance, group L2 saw it as a criminal act and opposed to their image of
Liberia as a God fearing nation. This is rather surprising, especially in relation
to the experiences of “heartmen” (ritual and anthropophagous killings in vie for
political power) during elections in Liberia (for more details, see Moran 2006, pp.
45, 116–22, 162; Ellis 2007, pp. 249–66). This may reflect an area where social
desirability muted some voices in the focus group interviews.
While this aspect of the supernatural was not taken up by the ex-combatants,
beliefs related to an omnipotent God were very common. As has been noted before,
religious beliefs are closely associated with political beliefs in Liberia (Yoder
2003; Ellis 2007, pp. 223, 257), and in particular the early settler community has
been accused of being “too religious” (Yoder 2003, p. 117). Both Yoder and Ellis
suggest that the type of Christianity practiced in Liberia emphasizes paternal-
ism and dependency. For instance, commenting on the centrality of religion for
the political culture in Liberia, Ellis has noted that: “God was represented as an
all-powerful, stern and paternal master who would unfailingly detect and punish
the failings of mankind. God, in fact, was a bit like President Tubman.” (Ellis
2007, p. 257). The view of an omnipotent God, and ensuing presence in politics,
leads the ex-combatants to apathy and lethargy; if God decides all anyway, then
why bother trying to change things in society? Here, the ex-combatants’ stance in
large part resonates with observations about the political culture more generally
in Liberia. In particular, Yoder has noted that this view of God has also lead to
considerable deference before authority, supernatural and otherwise (Yoder 2003,
p. 89; see also Ellis 2007, pp. 257, 279). Such beliefs underscore the hierarchical
understandings of politics among the ex-combatants.
In general, several groups expressed doubts about their external efficacy,
whether in relation to voting or contacting, for instance, they believed the political
system to be fairly unresponsive (U1, U2, M1, M2, Y2, Y3 and F2). Many groups
also expressed a low sense of internal efficacy (M1, M2, M3, Y2, U1, U2, G1,
G3, F2, F3 and to a lesser extent in F1), which is worrying as a low level of both
internal and external efficacy has been noted to be associated with lower levels
of participation (Finkel 1985, p. 906f). Some of the groups, however, had a more
distinct faith in the system and of being heard (G3, G4, L2, U1, Y1, Y3, F1), and
in some groups the sense of internal efficacy was also quite high (F1, F2, Y3). In
this area, it also becomes clear that there was both a lot of variation within some
of the groups, and in fact that sometimes even the same individual expressed
sentiments of both kinds. In general, there does not seem to be a significant dif-
ference between the general public and ex-combatants concerning efficacy. In the
Afrobarometer, as many as 73.8 percent of the ex-combatants felt it was very difficult
or somewhat difficult to be heard between elections (see Table B.6, Appendix B).
Conclusion: skeptics and believers

This chapter has shown how the ex-combatants are politically involved and the
extent to which they feel they can influence political outcomes. The problems
and needs approach made it possible to locate where the political takes place
for ex-combatants in Liberia. The focus group material has afforded a more
nuanced picture of different forms of participation, their internal hierarchy and
the reasoning behind different options of participation. Given the assertion that
peacebuilding, as well as democratization, are dependent upon the extent to which
citizens, and in particular ex-combatants, feel they can participate, this chapter
has contributed to a better understanding of this dynamic.
Contacting and voting were generally perceived as commonly occurring forms
of participation, but extra-representational modes of participation also emerged
among the participants’ ideas of how to influence society. If ordinary representa-
tional channels fail, it is no wonder that alternative modes are favored. Political
participation outside the state or through extra-representational channels makes
sense in the political context of Liberia. Engaging with the focal points of power
in a polity, be they the state, political parties, NGOs or the international com-
munity, is clearly a reasonable strategy if you are trying to have real influence.
Indeed, several groups did express that they turned toward contacting NGOs or
the like when they did not see the government as approachable or efficient. The
functionality and reliability of political institutions matter for people’s choices
(and potential frustration).
The fact that voting was not immediately thought of among the ex-combatants
is not strange either, although perhaps a bit surprising at first. While it may be
seen as the defining form of political participation in many instances, the fact
is that elections have been flawed in Liberia in the past. They do not occur that
often: presidential elections are constitutionally supposed to run every six years,
but the last elections have been held in 2011, 2005, 1997, 1985 and 1975. Thus,
as an event it does not happen that often in your life, whereas other forms of par-
ticipation are always at hand. Clearly, it makes sense to try to influence through
channels which are more readily available. Indeed, elections were not seen as
the best way to effect change in their community among the ex-combatants. This
experience is likely to be relevant in other post-war contexts as well.
Verba and Nie have highlighted the potential conflictual nature of certain forms
of participation, and that forms of participation may be discriminated against
this dimension (Verba and Nie 1972, p. 50f), and others have shown that con-
flict avoidance often lowers participation in some areas (particularly protesting),
as well as lowering interest in politics more generally (Ulbig and Funk 1999).
Given the post-war context, these issues may be particularly salient in Liberia.
As shown in this chapter, forms of participation which open up for conflict in a
very real sense are avoided and not sought after among the ex-combatants; they
clearly expressed a will to avoid confrontational forms of participation, such as
protests and violence. Also, their avoidance of protests as a channel for participa-
tion was explicitly linked to worries about the eruption of violence and a potential
stigmatization of themselves as a group. Of course, stating that violence and war
are unlikely in Liberia based on this is hazardous. However, at least these results
are encouraging in connection with ex-combatants’ feeling that other avenues of
changing their conditions are viable. However, the reliance on both representa-
tional and non-representational channels speaks to some of the peacebuilding
challenges Liberia faces. If citizens are to feel that their voices can be heard, it
is important that there are institutions seen as capable and willing to respond to
such demands. The choice to engage with the international community and NGOs
instead of the state highlights the weakness of the state. It is clear that in this
area the specific choices made by ex-combatants, and most likely other citizens
in Liberia as well, are very dependent on the institutional environment they find
themselves in. However, as is also clear, unresponsive or inaccessible channels
of participation in some areas do not necessarily entail that the ex-combatants are
silenced; they find other paths to express their voice.
Initially, some of the choices of the ex-combatants seem to indicate a lack of
coherence in the avenues of participation they see as open to them. For instance,
they like to campaign but are less convinced about the usefulness of voting,
although this is normally seen as the endpoint of political campaigning. They
like to campaign, but shy away from protests and demonstrations, although as
activities they are often thought of as rather similar. However, political campaigns
leading up to elections in Liberia, as well as in Sierra Leone for instance, more
often resemble a festival and a street party (and it is not uncommon to participate
in these feasts on both sides), whereas protesting is a more oppositional form of
activity.
Are there any differences between particular segments of the ex-combatants
and their views on political participation? This discussion is prompted by the fact
that there are large variations in the overall political involvement of the groups.
The urban groups envisioned more channels of participation than the rural ones,
but they also saw more problems in their communities. The urban groups also
enumerated more problematic experiences with the political system in terms of
participation. Campaigning was also almost exclusively an urban phenomenon,
and only urban groups recognized that violence was seen as an option by some,
and it was also only in the urban groups that some claimed that protests, if peace-
ful, could be used. Indeed, it is really only in Monrovia that protests have been
a common part of political life, for example, in the aftermath of the elections in
2005. Thus politics in general seems to be more present in Monrovia than the rest
of the country, and urban communities may be a more likely hotbed for (political)
conflict. The notion of contacting politicians or their representatives was com-
mon among most groups, but contacting NGOs and the international community
was more typical of the rural groups. Thus, while the state is weak in general in
Liberia, this is particularly the case in the rural areas where the state is largely
absent and other actors, such as international NGOs, are present and delivering
public goods. In general, the ex-combatants seem to be very situationally aware,
as their behavioral choices are dependent on the context in which they find them-
selves and their personal experiences.
The female groups tended to see less options of participation than their male
counterparts, and exhibited lower levels of efficacy, both external and internal,
similar to results elsewhere in Africa. Some of the differences between the groups
could also be associated with differences in reintegration programs. The groups
that attended MVTC as part of their DDR program stood out in terms of a low
feeling of efficacy, a feeling that echoes their experiences of not being listened
to within that program. Deliberative forms of participation were solely an urban
phenomenon, and particularly among groups that had attended formal education
or YMCA (only male groups) as part of their DDR program. Talking politics,
and expecting to be listened to, fits well with the way these programs worked.
Cognitive skills are certainly emphasized in the formal education programs, and
an open discussion climate characterized the YMCA programs.
By and large, the ex-combatants are fairly engaged and involved politically,
suggesting creative ways of participating, despite their doubts as to whether they
can make a difference or be listened to. This sense of cynicism is thus mixed in
with a sense of ingenuity and faith in the political process in the long run, as well
as partly seeing the political sphere under godly control. The Afrobarometer data
also suggests that the ex-combatants largely participate more than the general
public, across several different channels of participation. Overall, the ex-com-
batants are choosing forms of participation that are not detrimental to the peace
process, however their continued reliance on extra-representational channels
that do not involve the state of Liberia does risk perpetuating the weakness of an
already weak state. It is also clear that more conflictual forms of participation are
not ruled out as options for all of them. The deliberative preference expressed by
many also suggests a preference for less confrontational forms of participation,
echoing their taste for less oppositional politics in general, as will also be demon-
strated in Chapter 5.
Just as experiences in places like Tanzania as well as Russia have shown
(Ekman 2009, pp. 17, 21; Verba et al. 1995, pp. 37–40, 42–6), there is doubt about
voting as a good channel of participation. This experience is in fact also reflected
in more mature democracies, among young citizens, that also (possibly for dif-
ferent reasons) locate the political in other areas than traditional representational
politics (Henn et al. 2002, p. 187). Lack of faith in electoral politics among the ex-
combatants does not imply a lack of political involvement per se (especially since
they vote en masse), but rather a discerning and engaged relationship with poli-
tics. Through exploring the ex-combatants’ involvement beyond representational
channels, a better sense of the extent and range of the ex-combatants’ political
involvement has been achieved. Had these other arenas been ignored, the picture
would have been much bleaker. In terms of the overall political reintegration then,
this chapter has addressed the extent of political involvement in great detail. The
chapter has also demonstrated how certain ex-combatants stress hierarchy and
disengagement in politics in Liberia. This is discouraging from the perspective
of democracy.
Other accounts of politics in Liberia suggest that apathy as well as skepticism
toward political institutions have been remarkably durable and widespread among
the Liberian populace, and that this has contributed to the crisis of the 1990s (see
e.g. Dolo 1996, pp. 13, 85; Yoder 2003, p. 278). In comparison, Moran notes a
strong sense of voice and engagement in the Liberian populace, adding that “[t]his
optimism is in stark contrast with prevailing view of the Liberian population as
apathetic, passive, and tolerant of autocracy” (Moran 2006, p. 155). This chapter
has demonstrated the presence of both perspectives among the ex-combatants. In
that sense, the ex-combatants are skeptics and believers at the same time, and in
many different ways.
Notes
â•‡ 1 The price of rice has always been a political issue in Liberia. The country has never
been self-sufficient in rice production, although it is the main staple food. In 1979 the
rice riots in Monrovia were the result of removing government subsidies on rice. The
removal of these subsidies was a condition for receiving multilateral loans. Although,
as Reno notes, President Tolbert’s cousin also owned the largest rice importing firm at
the time (Reno 1998, p. 84). Some claim that this event set Liberia on the path toward
war. The price of rice has continually been increasing over the past decades, and during
the time of the interviews 50 kg of rice cost 34 USD, compared to half that amount just
six months prior (Thomas 2008).
â•‡ 2 Their opinions regarding voting were also gauged at the end of the focus group discus-
sion using pictures of the election in 2005, although the first time it came up in the
discussions was related to the problems and needs approach.
â•‡ 3 A recent national survey revealed that as many as 32 percent “believed there was some
or a lot of electoral fraud” (Vinck et al. 2011, p. 73). For more on electoral legitimacy
among ex-combatants, especially comparing the experiences of the first and second
election after the end of the war, see Söderström (2013, 2010, 2009).
â•‡ 4 The presidential candidate for the Liberian Action Party was Varney Sherman, and the
party formed part of the Coalition for Transformation of Liberia (COTOL). During the
2005 elections, Sherman then supported George Weah during the run-off elections.
â•‡ 5 Based on the Afrobarometer data from Liberia, slightly more than half of the popula-
tion is believed to own a radio, and as many as 46.4 percent are noted to receive news
from the radio every day (23.4 percent noting never, compared to 85.4 percent and
77.9 percent that never receive news from television or newspapers respectively). As
many as 35.5 percent of the population in Liberia is estimated to use a cell phone every
day, while a total of 49.8 percent never use a cell phone. As many as 25.7 percent
have no formal schooling at all, and the median is to only have completed primary
school. Based on the census in Liberia, about 55.9 percent of the population 10 years
or older are literate (only 46.3 percent of females 10 years or older) (Liberia Institute of
Statistics and Geo-Information Services (LISGIS) 2009, p. A6-145). Comparing these
findings with a national survey conducted in 2010, 63 percent identified the radio as the
main source of news, 59 percent were noted as literate, and 35 percent had no formal
schooling (Vinck et al. 2011, pp. 18, 23).
â•‡6 At the time of the interviews, former AFL soldiers had recently marched on the
President, calling for her impeachment. The former AFL soldiers claimed she had dis-
banded the army, rather than re-organized it, which they claimed was unconstitutional,
especially as it was not accompanied by an act of parliament or a referendum. This
event was well-known in Monrovia, and was covered a lot in the media. A cartoon in
a Liberian newspaper caught the public’s view of ex-combatants well, when it ques-
tioned their claims, noting that all former soldiers could reapply for a position within
the new army if they were qualified (Lumeh 2008). This group of ex-combatants have
also organized themselves into an organization called the Unconstitutionally
Disbanded Armed Forces of Liberia (UDAFOL). For more on this, see Kaufmann
2011, 2013.
â•‡ 7 Globally such levels of protest would have to be considered as high. The countries with
the highest levels of protest among the 19 countries that were part of round four of the
Afrobarometer were: Tanzania (20.5), South Africa (19.3), Benin (18.0), Mali (17.4)
and Cape Verde (17.0).
â•‡ 8 The usage of violence in politics in the post-war phase should not be assumed to be the
equivalent of opposing the peace, but can also be a way of expressing your political
voice (see Zahar 2006, pp. 33–8).
â•‡ 9 The pervasiveness of violence in Liberian society has been noted by several researchers,
and, in particular, its linkages with politics have been expounded upon (Moran 2006;
Ellis 2007, p. 290; Yoder 2003, p. 162). Moran notes quite poignantly, for instance,
concerning the rural Glebo, that “in their experience, violence is not the opposite of
democracy, but an integral aspect of it” (Moran 2006, p. 52).
10 While Blattman noted a similar propensity in the case of abductees in Uganda to
refer to an all powerful God and their own lack of empowerment in relation to
this, it was also associated with a tendency to escape responsibility and thereby
contributed to their “psychological resilience” and coping abilities (Blattman
2009, p. 243).
References
Adman, Per. 2004. Arbetslöshet, arbetsplatsdemokrati och politiskt deltagande. Depart-
ment of Government, Uppsala University, Acta Universitatis Upsaliensis. Skrifter
utgivna av Statsvetenskapliga föreningen i Uppsala, No. 158.
Amnå, Erik. 2008. Jourhavande Medborgare: Samhällsengagemang i en folkrörelsestat.
Lund: Studentlitteratur.
Anderson, Christopher J., and Silvia M. Mendes. 2005. “Learning to Lose: Election Out-
comes, Democratic Experience and Political Protest Potential.” British Journal of
Political Science 36(1): 91–111.
Western Democracies. Beverly Hills: Sage Publications.
Barr, Ashley, and Jon Moor. 2005. Liberia Elections: Read Pre-Election Statement, Elec-
tion Watch Reports. The Carter Center. Online: http://www.cartercenter.org/news/
documents/doc2184.html?printerFriendly=true (accessed June 25, 2008).
Belloni, Roberto. 2001. “Civil society and peacebuilding in Bosnia and Herzegovina.”
Berman, Sheri. 1997. “Civil Society and the Collapse of the Weimar Republic.” World
Politics 49(3): 401–29.
Blattman, Christopher, and Jeannie Annan. 2009. “Child combatants in northern Uganda:
reintegration myths and realities.” In Security and Post-Conflict Reconstruction: Deal-
ing with Fighters in the Aftermath of War, ed. R. Muggah, pp. 103–25. London and New
York: Routledge.
Blaug, Ricardo, and John Schwartzmantel, eds. 2001. Democracy: A Reader. Edinburgh:
Edinburgh University Press.
46(1): 33–55.
Brady, Henry E. 1999. “Political Participation.” In Measures of Political Attitudes, eds.
J. P. Robinson, P. R. Shaver and L. S. Wrightsman, pp. 737–801. San Diego: Academic
Press.
Bratton, Michael, and Carolyn Logan. 2006. “Voters but not yet Citizens: The Weak
Demand for Political Accountability in Africa’s unclaimed Democracies.” Afrobarom-
eter Working Papers (63).
Africa World Press.
Chabal, Patrick, and Jean-Pascal Daloz. 1999. Africa Works: Disorder as Political Instru-
ment. Oxford: The International African Institute, James Currey & Indiana University
Press.
Craig, Stephen C. 1979. “Efficacy, Trust, and Political Behavior – an Attempt to Resolve a
Lingering Conceptual Dilemma.” American Politics Quarterly 7(2): 225–39.
Craig, Stephen C., Richard G. Niemi, and Glenn E. Silver. 1990. “Political Efficacy and
Trust: A Report on the NES Pilot Study Items.” Political Behavior 12(3): 289–314.
Dalton, Russell J. 2000. “Citizen Attitudes and Political Behavior.” Comparative Political
Studies 33(6/7): 912–40.
———. 2008. “Citizenship Norms and the Expansion of Political Participation.” Political
Studies 56(1): 76–98.
Dryzek, John S. 2002. Deliberative Democracy and Beyond. Oxford: Oxford University
Press.
Ekman, Joakim. 2009. “Political Participation and Regime Stability: A Framework for
Analyzing Hybrid Regimes.” International Political Science Review 30(1): 7–31.
Finkel, Steven E. 1985. “Reciprocal Effects of Participation and Political Efficacy – a
Panel Analysis.” American Journal of Political Science 29(4): 891–913.
Henn, Matt, Mark Weinstein, and Dominic Wring. 2002. “A generation apart? Youth and
political participation in Britain.” British Journal of Politics and International Rela-
tions 4(2): 167–92.
Kaufmann, Andrea. 2011. “The Lost Honor. Ex-Soldiers Fighting for Their Rights in
Post-Conflict Liberia.” Paper presented at the Fourth European Conference on African
Studies (ECAS), June 15–18, Uppsala.
———. 2013. Social Imaginaries from Intricate Spaces in urban Liberia. Institute of
Social Anthropology, University of Basel.
Kuenzi, Michelle T. 2006. “Nonformal Education, Political Participation, and Democracy:
Findings from Senegal.” Political Behavior 28(1): 1–31.
Liberia Institute of Statistics and Geo-Information Services (LISGIS). 2009. “2008 Popu-
lation and Housing Census, Final Results.” Monrovia.
Lindberg, Staffan I. 2003. “‘It’s Our Time to “Chop”’: Do Elections in Africa Feed Neo-
Patrimonialism rather than Counteract it?” Democratization 10(2): 121–40.
Logan, Carolyn, and Michael Bratton. 2006. “The Political Gender Gap in Africa: Similar
Attitudes, Different Behaviors.” Afrobarometer Working Papers (58).
Lumeh, Leslie. 2008. Daily Observer, May 28, 4.
McKay, Susan. 2004. “Reconstructing Fragile Lives: Girls’ Social Reintegration in North-
ern Uganda and Sierra Leone.” Gender and Development 12(3): 19–30.
Micheletti, Michele. 2002. “Consumer Choice as Political Participation.” Statsvetenska-
plig Tidskrift 105(3): 218–34.
———. 2006. “Communication and Political Understanding as Political Participation.”
In State of Welfare: Politics, Policies and Parties in the Post-National Welfare Society,
eds. M. Eduards, C. Linde and A. Segerberg, Stockholm: Stockholm University.
Pennsylvania Press.
Mousseau, Demet Yalcin. 2001. “Democratizing with ethnic divisions: A source of conflict?”
Nie, Norman H., Jane Junn, and Kenneth Stehlik-Barry. 1996. Education and Democratic
Citizenship in America. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press.
Nilsson, R. Anders. 2008. Dangerous Liaisons. Why Ex-Combatants Return to Violence –
Cases from the Republic of Congo and Sierra Leone. Department of Peace and Conflict
“Tuning out or left out? Participation and non-participation among young people.” Con-
temporary Politics 9(1): 45–61.
Platt, Matthew B. 2008. “Participation for What? A Policy-motivated Approach to Political
Activism.” Political Behavior 30(3): 391–413.
Pratchett, Lawrence. 1999. “New fashions in public participation: Towards greater democ-
racy?” Parliamentary Affairs 52(4): 616–33.
Quinn, J. Michael, T. David Mason, and Mehmet Gurses. 2007. “Sustaining the Peace:
Determinants of Civil War Recurrence.” International Interactions 33(2): 167–93.
Publishers.
Sawyer, Amos. 2008. “Emerging Patterns in Liberia’s Post-Conflict Politics: Observations
from the 2005 Elections.” African Affairs 107(427): 177–99.
Schatzman, Christina. 2005. “Political challenge in Latin America: Rebellion and collec-
tive protest in an era of democratization.” Journal of Peace Research 42(3): 291–310.
Söderström, Johanna. 2009. “Valerfarenheter bland f.d. kombattanter: En ny syn
på demokrati i Liberia?” Politica 41(3): 300–14.
———. 2010. “Ex-Combatants at the Polls: Exploring Focus Groups & Electoral Mean-
ing.” Anthropology Matters 12(1): 1–16.
———. 2013. “Second time around: Ex-combatants at the polls in Liberia.” The Journal
Teorell, Jan, Mariano Torcal, and José Ramón Montero. 2007. “Political Participation:
Mapping the terrain.” In Citizenship and Involvement in European Democracies:
A Comparative Analysis, eds. J. W. van Deth, J. R. Montero and A. Westholm,
pp. 334–57. Abingdon: Routledge.
Thomas, Kate. 2008. Liberians drop rice for spaghetti. BBC News, April 22. Online: http://
news.bbc.co.uk/go/pr/fr/-/2/hi/africa/7360649.stm (accessed July 16, 2008).
Ulbig, Stacy G., and Carolyn L. Funk. 1999. “Conflict Avoidance and Political Participation.”
Political Behavior 21(3): 265–82.
Utas, Mats. 2003. Sweet Battlefields. Youth and the Liberian Civil War. Cultural Anthro-
Verba, Sidney, and Norman H. Nie. 1972. Participation in America: Political Democracy
and Social Equality. New York: Harper & Row.
Verba, Sidney, Kay Lehman Schlozman, and Henry E. Brady. 1995. Voice and Equality:
Civic Voluntarism in American Politics. Cambridge: Harvard University Press.
Westholm, Anders, and Richard G. Niemi. 1986. “Youth Unemployment and Political
Alienation.” Youth & Society 18(1): 58–80.
Zahar, Marie-Jöelle 2006. “Political Violence in Peace Processes: Voice, Exit, and Loyalty
Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press.
4 Expressed antagonism
This chapter describes how the ex-combatants view and relate to politics through
antagonistic eyes. The chapter is a response to the threat narrative ex-combatants
usually are cast in. What is it that the ex-combatants in Liberia revolt against and
question? Are there grounds for concern about their involvement in politics (as
implied by statements made by the UN Secretary-General, Annan 2005, p. 4)?
The chapter describes the extent to which politics was framed in a “we against
them” perspective, their hierarchical view of politics and their questioning stance
vis-à-vis politics. The chapter further examines how they relate to protests and
violence in politics and their understanding of themselves within the political sys-
tem. As such, the chapter describes an important dimension of the content of the
political voice of ex-combatants in Liberia.
Antagonism is a relational concept. An antagonist tends to imply the exist-
ence of a protagonist, something or someone to oppose or struggle against.
Antagonism is thus often defined as “Mutual opposition or hostility” (“antagonism”
1997, p. 30). Antagonism therefore necessitates the portrayal of that which
is opposed or contended with, and the ex-combatants struggle against both
institutional conditions and the political elite in Liberia. The reason why the
ex-combatants are depicted as antagonists rather than protagonists is their own
description of their position as marginal or peripheral. They do not por-
tray themselves as the focal point of the political system in Liberia, and they
expressed criticism and opposition to entities and phenomena seen as dangerous
and threatening to the political order.
Antagonism is not equated with aggression per se, rather it reflects resist-
ance (see also Du Toit 1993 for a somewhat similar usage of antagonism; cf.
O’Leary and McGarry 1996). Whether or not this resistance is transformed into
actual aggression is another question, but it clearly reflects divisions and conflict
orientated politics. Mouffe has noted that antagonism as an element of politics
and human society “can take many different forms and emerge in diverse social
relations,” and that it reflects an emotional attachment and reaction to the organi-
zation of society; it is simply a question of being political (Mouffe 2000, p. 148f).
From this perspective, it becomes clear that this emotional element of the political
is part and parcel of democratic societies alike, and that the question is simply
whether these passions are tame enough to function within democratic structures
Expressed antagonismâ•…83
(Mouffe 2000, p. 149). John Stuart Mill has also argued for the importance of
antagonism in democracies. The experience of conflict and dialectics adds vital-
ity to democracy, especially as it generates depth to political beliefs. Turner has
described it thus:
the experience of antagonism is fundamental in developing a more robust

understanding of our beliefs – whose weaknesses and strengths are revealed
only in contest with opposing opinions – and, more important, is critical in
producing reflective, autonomous individuals.
(Turner 2010, p. 40)
From this it should be clear that the source of and channels used to express antag-
onism is what matters, not the existence of antagonism itself. The ex-combatants
can be severely antagonistic, but this in and of itself does not determine whether
they are protagonists or antagonists of democracy itself. This chapter tries to
situate and clarify the particulars of the antagonism embraced by the Liberian
ex-combatants.
The ex-combatants’ antagonism was reinforced by their understanding of
their own position in society as subordinate, and can be detected in some of their
behavioral choices in the political arena. The first section in this chapter therefore
deals with the ex-combatants’ self-understanding and is entitled The antagonists.
This is then followed by a description of the two objects and sources of their
antagonism, which was found at two levels:
1 They expressed antagonism toward the political system and associated

institutions who failed to live up to their ideals, here termed Institutional
antagonism.
2 Their relationship with and depiction of the political elite clearly exhibited
antagonistic traits, as the political elite similarly failed to meet the ex-combatants’
expectations. This is described in the section entitled Elite antagonism.
Finally, the chapter ends with a section where the ex-combatants directly address
three main figures in Liberian politics. This section largely illustrates their
elite antagonism, but it also reinforces the ex-combatants’ self-perception and
institutional antagonism. Throughout, this antagonism was the result of either
experiencing a contrast between their political ideals or the political reality they
were faced with.
The antagonists
This section looks more closely at the antagonists themselves, their understanding
of their own position and role in society, as well as some of the associated behavio-
ral options. The ex-combatants see themselves in a subordinate position in society,
reinforced by both contrasts between the war and the present, as well as signals
from, and perceived treatment by, the political system and the political elite.
84â•… Expressed antagonism
Subordinate position of ex-combatants
Antagonism was visible through the ex-combatants’ experience of a subordinate
position in society. They felt marginalized, treated unequally, and sometimes for-
gotten by society at large. This feeling of exclusion reinforced their antagonism
toward politics and society. This hierarchical experience of society is also reflected
in the section on the elite, and Liberia as a whole has often been described as
a very hierarchical society (Hardgrove 2012; Bøås and Artur 2008; Bøås 2013;
Podder 2012). The understanding of the ex-combatant community as marginal-
ized and subordinate, as expressed by the ex-combatants themselves, has been
noted by other researchers as well (see e.g. Bøås 2013; Hardgrove 2012; Utas
2008; Podder 2012; see also Hoffman 2011, p. 38, on Sierra Leone). In particular,
both Bøås and Utas describe how this position is linked with a lack of control and
power; a loss of agency to some extent. Expressing antagonism can in part be seen
as a way to regain some of that agency.
For many ex-combatants, the end of the war meant a re-marginalization of them
as a group. This was experienced in relation to the Disarmament, Demobilization
and Reintegration (DDR) program and the treatment by politicians. This dis-
appointment thus reflects a contrast between their lived experiences and their
anticipation of a better future or better treatment at the end of the war. It reinforces
their position as peripheral and less worthy in Liberian society, thereby casting
them in the role of antagonists. Some participants clearly felt that ex-combatants
were even worse off than the rest of the population at the end of the war; that
ex-combatants had been cheated and were now ignored by government (G3, M1,
F2, Y2, Y3, L1 and L2). A study of ex-combatants in Lofa County, and a smaller
subsample in Monrovia, suggest that it is mainly urban ex-combatants that feel
nostalgic about the war and are disappointed with current conditions (Hill et al.
2008, p. 2f).1 Nostalgia for the war is not an uncommon phenomena among ex-
combatants (for a discussion of nostalgia as an emotional legacy in Colombia, see
Nussio 2012).
This disappointment was clearly connected to experiences with the DDR
process. The DDR experience, together with the war, signified to many of the ex-
combatants a pact with the state. This pact gave rise to obligations on the part of
the state. For instance, Brandon and Brice in group G3 noted:
We the ex-combatant we fought, and now you take arms from us … You see,
you that take arms from us, you say you will bring our benefit. […] we not
see it with our eyes. You see. Then you tell me now, oh yes, I will give you
the card. They not give me the card.
(Brandon, G3)
because of war I left the school. I joined the war. And the war over now. They
took all our arms. They gave us ID-card.2 They said we would learn trade
so we, so that we can forget about war. Ok. Time come, […] we have never
received benefits.
(Brice, G3)
A participant in group L1 said: “We were firing guns, we were doing good, good
jobs, but since we disarm, they say the country settle, we suffering bad way here.”
Notably, this ex-combatant claimed that, while everyone else seems to be moving
forward, the ex-combatants are forgotten and left behind. Similarly, participants
in L2 stated that: “But for DDR, for me now, I have not benefited from it, so I
want the government to come and do something about it.” Groups L1 and L2
consisted of ex-combatants who had not accessed a reintegration program, and
thereby their disappointment was mainly linked to missing out on that opportu-
nity. The ex-combatants in G3, however, had received reintegration assistance but
not assistance that was clearly identified with the DDR program.
Participants in Y3 clearly saw the program as the responsibility of the govern-
ment of Liberia: “They owe me. The government of Liberia owes me, because
it is their responsibility to PROTECT, according to the constitution” (Alex, Y3).
This was particularly the case as they felt the government had used them in the
past as child soldiers, and now it was up to the government to transform them into
useful citizens in the community; again clearly indicating a sense of a social pact
with the state. The ex-combatants felt they had lived up to their obligations in this
relationship with the state, and thereby were entitled to care by the state. This was
expressed by Adam (Y3) in particular:
We never started the war ourselves. The state brought the war to us. They
came, they recruited us. I was young, I never knew about war. They told us
they would be with us forever, and now they reject us? I think they owe us.
(Adam, Y3)
The idea of a social pact with the state based on participation in war is an argu-
ment that has often been invoked by veterans and ex-combatants alike throughout
history. The ex-combatants in Liberia are no exception to this.
Participants in Group Y3 recognized that this transformation also rested with
themselves, yet a failure on the side of the government was associated with a
latent threat to return to arms:
Forgetting that we are trained and continue pushing us, but we don’t want
war, but if they continue to do this to us, suffering us […] maybe we have to
go back to our old mentality. So really have to do something so we can forget
about the past entirely. […] there is a need for them, and see how they can
transform our lives.
(participant, Y3)
For this group, the responsibility assigned to government was mainly related to
causes of the war and how they had ended up fighting in the war. Alex returned to
this, and noted again:
The government of Liberia is fully responsible. […] Look at the Liberian

crisis, it was fully sponsored by the government, and other hierarchies in
government now, like he said, we shouldn’t go around calling names […] but
if we are pushed to the wall, we have to go back to the people that cause us
to be traumatized, the people never regarded us as human being, they are still
in the hierarchy.
(Alex, Y3)
Alex also expresses his experience of rejection, of being seen as less worthy, even
disrespected by the elite or the hierarchy as he calls it. Similarly, Curtis in Y1
conveyed this sense of rejection, which allows the elite to treat them badly and for
their own purposes: “politicians want to use us [ex-combatants] as a calabash to
accomplish their aims” (Curtis, Y1).
In group F2, however, the issue of governmental responsibility was of a differ-
ent nature. It was the disarmament process itself, and the promises they felt had
been made in the cantonment sites that created this responsibility:
Someone: We give them arm, they promise us that, that things will be fine with
all you people! We will send you to school. Anyone who wants to
learn trade, we will send them there. After that, we finished disarm,
some of them never got the ID card, never went to school. That’s
why. Things are hard. […]
Hedwig: If they had not made that obligation, then no, then you would know
you are on your own.
The participants in group Y2 were quite frustrated with how ex-combatants had
been treated in the post-war phase. They felt ignored by the government and presi-
dent, and did not trust the police. Some also lamented and worried about what
would happen if the ex-combatant community continued to feel dissatisfied, with
the possibility of returning to war on their mind. Yvette in Y2 expressed the views
of the group when she said:
You know if you are raising a lion, you have to feed the lion, because a lion is
an animal that can always be ANGRY. So if you not feeding the lion, the lion
will be more angry. Even the children, it will EAT them. So, we are the lion.
If you don’t feed us, you don’t make us feel fine, what do you think that we
should do? We will demonstrate. You have to give it to us.
(Yvette, Y2)
Once the patronage and responsibility is established, you cannot divert from it;
the expectation of continuing the bond is already in place. Feeling abandoned in
this manner was also linked for some to not just feelings of antagonism, but the
possibility of mobilizing for protest (or a return to war) in order to channel this
antagonism outwardly.
The ex-combatants expressed antagonism due to the marginalization they had
experienced in the post-war era. Other research on post-war Liberia has noted
similar problems, i.e. that their identity as ex-combatants was reinforced by the
DDR program and further stigmatized (Bøås 2013, p. 620; Hardgrove 2012,
passim), but also that the program may have exacerbated this disappointment
through raising expectations too high (Söderström 2013a). Hardgrove describes
for instance how the post-war reality is associated for many with a loss of power
and an increase in their exclusion from society at large (Hardgrove 2012, p. 192).
The experience of having less and of not being able to move forward provides the
seeds for disappointment and hostility, and feeling rejected by society.
Another reason for their understanding of themselves as peripheral and sub-
ordinate was the experience of failed expectations and a sense of abandonment
in relation to the elections themselves. Shortly after the election, ex-combatants
have been noted to have high hopes for the impact of the election – as many as
85.0 percent believed that the election would be followed by positive changes
(Bøås and Hatløy 2008, p. 50). However, three years later, a fair number of the
participants felt disappointed by the elections. This was related to unfulfilled
expectations, either in the form of campaign promises not carried out, or a more
general disappointment linked to the behavior of politicians after the elections.
The participants often mentioned a feeling of abandonment after the elections;
politicians stopped listening or interacting with the electorate, creating the feeling
that democracy only happens during elections (G1, G2, G3, G4, U1, U3, M1, M3,
L1, L2, Y2, F1, F2 and F3): “Yeah, the elections, you know, I feel good. But, what
I want … for the government to do I can’t see them do it. So now I am feeling bad
again” (Brandon, G3). Similarly, Murray in U3 felt the elections had institutional-
ized the politicians’ use of ordinary people:
The 2011 campaign, that is the time when they will come back to visit us.
They will want us to put them there for the second term. So anything you talk
now, they will say yes sir. But when you put them there again, and then for
the second term, when they say hello sir, he coming, he waste water on you,
because he got what he wanted. The 2011 election, they will come down …
(Murray, U3)
In some groups, the feeling of abandonment was mainly in relation to candidates

who lost the election, who they felt should still try to improve the country (L1
and M3). Similarly, Hank in group F3 stated: “After election […] They turn their
back. They cannot SEE the interest of the people!” Thus for many ex-combatants
the government seemed to be removed from ordinary citizens and their plight.
They felt the government did not demonstrate an interest in knowing their situa-
tion, let alone doing something about it. This left them feeling abandoned. This
was particularly noted in the rural groups (G1, G2 and G3), but also by some
urban groups (F1, Y3, M1 and M3). The university students (F1) also felt that the
government was not paying enough attention to the rural communities in Liberia.
Gloria in G2 noted that: “In Monrovia they are eating good food, but here we are
suffering”, and Brandon in G3: “Let our government come to themselves, that
they must be helping we the little people here … you see, helping we the local
people … yes. Don’t eat the sweets, don’t eat the sweets and forget about me”.3
Similarly, the participants in group Y3 noted that they felt isolated from
government, that they did not feel a part of the government, in part because the
government employed fewer people than before. Group M3 felt that the govern-
ment in general does not pay attention to the citizens.
The feeling of abandonment, failed election promises and a feeling of remote-
ness and distrust toward politicians, although not mentioned by all the groups,
were very pervasive. The ensuing feeling of alienation to politics may be very
detrimental to both democracy and peacebuilding. The ex-combatants’ described
a bond with society they felt had been broken, either in their capacity as combat-
ants with arms or as citizens with votes. Their ideal of an elite and a society that
take responsibility for them was to a large degree shattered. Their experience after
the war was one of re-marginalization, of stigmatization, and of being treated as
less equal than the rest of society. Their understanding of politics and society was
largely as a hierarchy, where they saw themselves at the bottom. They were in the
subordinate position.
Behavioral options
Political behavior was already addressed in Chapter 3, and in particular the choice
to use protests or violence was discussed in depth there. However, a few things
related to behavioral options and how the ex-combatants choose to express antag-
onism are worth noting here as well. The behavioral expression of antagonism
can of course be conducted through various channels. Critique of the system or
the political elite can be expressed through many forms of participation, although
protests as well as the use of violence represent more confrontational forms of
political behavior.
Notably, many of the ex-combatants saw politics itself as a threat to the com-
munity. Politics in general was often portrayed in a bad light in the focus groups.
Politics to them, referred to a game of power that had no bearing on the ordering of
society or public policies, but largely equated with their war experience. Politics
was therefore seen as confrontational and destructive and something they felt they
should avoid (G1, F1, U3, M2, Y1 and Y3). However, this was only the first layer
of their understanding of politics. When the groups discussed things that are more
commonly associated with “politics” they were generally very engaged and had
a lot of opinions on the topics (as is evident throughout this book). So, the aspect
they distanced themselves from was mainly the aspiration for power in and of
itself, and its conflictual undertones.
This notion of politics as destructive also seems to have been reinforced in
some of the reintegration programs, where their trainers often advised the ex-
combatants to stay out of politics. Typical comments included: “Politics is not
good in the community. Because when you bring it, it means everybody will be
displaced. In the community”, and “to convince people to do what they are not
supposed to do” (George, G1). When asked to explain what politics is, Matthew
(U3) described it as “It is something … It is acting against the government.”
Similarly, when discussing the issue of ever increasing food prices, the participants
in group M2 noted that there was no need to blame the president, rather you
should keep your head down and avoid politics. These groups expressed a need
to avoid (political) behavior that threatens the social and political community in
Liberia.
Thus several of the ex-combatants described a sense of being limited in their
behavioral options due to the hierarchical functioning of politics and their own
marginal position within that system. Jeff (M1) described this inaction:
It will lead to the destruction of life, and we coming from that now, so don’t
want that no more. If we start demonstrating no food, no food it will not work.
[…] Our parents, they are very poor, no justice for them. I am going to sue
the government, or take a stand, they will not. They will not have money to
hire a lawyer. […] if you don’t have money to hire a lawyer, that case will be
a cartoon. They will dump it into the dumper. So that’s why we are afraid, so
we just sit down, but NOTHING FINE.
(Jeff, M1)
Likewise, participants in group M1 and F3 avoided antagonistic behavior, such

as protests, as a way to escape the label of ex-combatant. A typical comment
was: “We don’t want to hear that name again, so we just calm down”. Similarly,
Curtis in Y1 conveyed this sense of rejection, which forces the ex-combatants
to moderate their own behavior in order to escape this position in society: “We
now as ex-combatants we don’t want to be so, we don’t want to be mess-up with
politics, because people already have bad profile on us” (Curtis, Y1). The ex-
combatants are thereby punished twice, both through the original stigmatization
but also because their current behavioral options are limited.
Antagonism could however also be channeled through other forms of participa-
tion that are less confrontational and obvious but still an expression of resistance,
as noted by Scott. Everyday resistance in the form of “foot-dragging, dissimu-
lations, false compliance, feigned ignorance, desertion, pilfering, smuggling,
poaching, arson, slander, sabotage, surreptitious assault and murder, anonymous
threats, and so on” (Scott 1989, p. 34) was not explicitly commented upon by the
ex-combatants. However, this kind of political behavior is not easily captured
through focus group interviews. Participant observation is needed in order to fully
capture this kind of resistance.
The use of protest was mainly rejected by all those that discussed the topic,
but there were a few exceptions (Y3, M3 and F1). The main reason for avoiding
protests was again connected with the risk for further stigmatization and rejection
from society. They also expressed a fear that using such channels for express-
ing their concerns would not work, because they would just be ignored as
“ex-combatants making noise” (Eric, F1). Their argument and complaints would
not be taken seriously using such channels of participation. Other ex-combatants
clearly avoided protests because they believed it endangered too much; it put the
entire society at risk of renewed war. Protests, and similar antagonistic behavior,
were also seen as undemocratic by some of the ex-combatants.
Several groups did, however, clearly reject protests (U1, U3, M1, M2, Y1,
L2, F2 and F3). While no significant differences were found between the general
public and the ex-combatants in the Afrobarometer survey, 16.7 percent of the ex-
combatants reported that they had attended at least one demonstration or protest
march during the past year (see Table 4.1).
Violence was also clearly rejected as an option for influencing politics (G1, G2,
U2, U3, M1, M2, M3, Y1, Y2, L2, F1 and F3). In fact, ex-combatants in Liberia
have not given rise to the security threats expected by the international commu-
nity and DDR practitioners (McMullin 2013, pp. 237–8). However, violence was
recognized as understandable in connection with poor living conditions by many.
Many of the frustrations noted in this chapter were associated with more antago-
nistic behavioral choices, even if not all of the ex-combatants admitted to making
such choices themselves. As seen in Chapter 3, the ex-combatants were signifi-
cantly more prone to use force or violence for a political cause than the general
public, indeed 11.6 percent claimed they had done so once or twice, several times
or often during the last year, and as many as 20.9 percent say they would if they had
the chance to (see Table 3.4 in Chapter 3). When asked if violence can ever be jus-
tified or not, 23.8 percent of the ex-combatants agreed with the statement: In this
country, it is sometimes necessary to use violence in support of a just cause. There
was, however, no significant difference with the public at large (see Table 4.2).
Many of the ex-combatants described their own position within society as
peripheral and often as forgotten and neglected by society. Their own understand-
ing of this was that their services as combatants, or the release of their arms,
entitled them to the care of the state, the government and the elite. This pact
was seen as broken by many of them. This experience of a subordinate posi-
tion reinforced their antagonism, which was also reflected in their behavioral
choices. Most avoided antagonistic behavior, such as protesting, as they feared
it would lead to further marginalization, whereas some were more supportive of
both protests and the use of violence in politics. Thus solely casting Liberian ex-
combatants as propagators of threat would be unfair.
Table 4.1â•‡ Attending a demonstration or protest marcha
please tell me whether you, personally, have done any of these things during the
past year. If not would you do this if you had the chance?
(C) Attended a demonstration or protest march

Once or twice 7.3% (82) 9.5% (4)
Several times 3.1% (35) 4.8% (2)
Often 0.9% (10) 2.4% (1)
Total 100.0% (1,123) 100.0% (42)
Note
Table 4.2â•‡ Violence never justified vs. sometimes violence necessarya
Q 44E: Which of the following statements is closest to your view? Choose statement (1)
or statement (2).
(1) The use of violence is never justified in Liberian politics today
(2) In this country, it is sometimes necessary to use violence in support of a just cause
Agree very strongly with statement (1) 50.4% (579) 40.5% (17)
Agree with statement (1) 32.2% (370) 35.7% (15)
Total 100.0% (1,148) 100.0% (42)
Note
Institutional antagonism
Antagonism was expressed in relation to the political system as a whole. This
skepticism, even hostility, toward the state and the political system was visible in
a number of areas. First, some expressed antagonism related to the political sys-
tem’s failure to live up to their idea of democracy, in part due to its unresponsive
qualities. Second, the political system was seen as fragile, thereby not offering the
stability the ex-combatants sought. Third, the questioning of the election results
both reflects their distrust of the system and their ability to voice their antagonism.
Failure as a democracy
In general, the ex-combatants’ understanding of democracy and politics corre-
spond to conventional understandings, where democracy is linked to freedom of
speech, representation, deliberation and elections. For the most part, based on
these understandings of democracy, Liberia was not seen as a democracy (G1, G2,
G4, M1, M2, M3, L1, Y1, Y2, F1, F3 and U3). Many ex-combatants experienced
frustration with Liberia’s failure as a democracy and saw achieving democracy as
an important goal. Offering a definition of democracy, Shiloh (L2) noted:
Democracy is the government of the people, by the people, for the people.
When I say, by the people, in a democratic state the government is elected by
the people, the people should decide. When I said for the people, the govern-
ment should be there to serve the people, because it is the people that elected
them into power, this is what I say.
(Shiloh, L2)
For some groups (L1, M1 and F1), this way of defining democracy made it clear
that Liberia was not a democracy: “Because democracy says, what the masses
that what the government go by. But what government says that what the majority
should go by. That’s dictatorship. It’s the problem we got in Liberia now” (par-
ticipant L1). The difficulties of achieving democracy were due to the extensive
self-interest among the political elite, a self-serving government and the depend-
ency on individuals within regimes in general.
Some participants saw the level of nepotism and corruption in Liberia as evi-
dence of the lack of democracy in Liberia. Likewise, politicians who do not listen
to people, failure to implement the will of the people, and the lack of understand-
ing between people in Liberia were seen as evidence of the lack of democracy
in Liberia (L1, M1 and M3). More specifically, some felt that Liberia was not a
democracy as the people they felt they had elected had not assumed office, instead
of election they had only selection, and because everyone is by themselves instead
of working together (M2 and M3). More groups linked it to the lack of freedom of
speech (F3, U3, M1 and Y2). Group M1, however, also felt that democracy was
possible in Liberia and saw themselves as pivotal for bringing it forward. For this
group, democracy was dependent on the actions of specific individuals, requiring
individuals to work in order for it to prosper.
The focus groups tended to identify deliberation as a crucial component of
politics and democracy. Being able to express yourself and in turn be heard by
others and given consideration was seen as an important political ideal. Listening,
caring about and respecting the opinions and needs of others were central ten-
ets of democracy to these groups (G1, G2, G3, U1, L2, M3, F1, Y1 and Y3).
Deliberation and attentive listening was therefore seen as important, especially
leading up to elections and decision making, thereby improving the quality of
those decisions. Participants in L2 expressed it thus: “When they do not pay atten-
tion to the citizens that is not democracy. Yes”; “even if you are just elected today,
there is a need to listen to the people” (Shiloh); “Every month, the representative
go to the people and listen to them. Get their view of government […] get the
proposal to the president. I think there will be no conflict in this nation.”
Given the problems noted about freedom of expression in Liberia by some
groups, it is not strange that some also stressed the importance of being listened
to, especially by the government: “Yes, the democracy is getting to our leaders,
to have them collect views from us” (Bill, G3). Similarly, participants in group
F1 felt that democracy was about the government listening to all parts of Liberia:
“Carrying the government to the people is what we call democracy, asking the
people what can we do? in Lofa, Nimba: what are your inputs?” (Elliot, F1). The
importance of leaders that listen has been noted in work on the political culture
in Liberia more generally as well (Yoder 2003, p. 147). But the ex-combatants
did not feel as if their leaders listen to and respect the views and needs of people:
The citizens feeling BAD, the government feeling GOOD. So that’s why we
become problem, you treating the citizens bad […] you not bringing democ-
racy business, the citizens feeling bad. Because they not doing what the
citizens want, they doing their own THING.
(Vito, M3)
Similarly, different bodies of government were seen as not cooperating and work-
ing together, but only forwarding their own point of view (rather than the views
of the citizens) (M2 and M3).
Most of the groups felt the political system was unresponsive in one way or
another (G1, G2, U2, U3, M1, M2, M3, L1, Y2, Y3, F1, F2 and F3). Again, a
contrast between the ideal expressed by the ex-combatants and their experience
with politics in Liberia emerges. In Chapter 3, their experience of efficacy was
examined in detail. It became clear that several groups expressed doubts about
their external efficacy, whether in relation to voting or contacting for instance
(U1, U2, M1, M2, Y2, Y3 and F2). They believed the political system to be
unresponsive. The ex-combatants seek and expect a relationship with the politi-
cal system that is premised on deliberation, especially as the system is perceived
as unequal. If power is hierarchically organized, the importance of higher ech-
elons of power paying attention to the needs and voices of those at the bottom
increases. However, as the political system is not responsive in this manner, the
unequal distribution of power within the system remains intact and becomes
more visible.
Some groups were more convinced of Liberia being a democracy, because
the government was acting in the interest of the people and allowing all citizens
to partake in government (L2), or because they felt freedom of speech existed:
“YES, Liberia is a democracy. Everybody can talk” (Brice, G3). Similarly, the
decrease in the number of protests they had witnessed was symptomatic for them
of Liberia being a democracy. Overall, however, the ex-combatants were critical
of the development of democracy in Liberia, while at the same time express-
ing clear democratic ideals. This is important, as it shows the difference between
evaluating political reintegration based on system evaluations versus values and
orientations held by the ex-combatants themselves. Some of the measures of
political reintegration, as seen in Chapter 1, often relied on confidence in the
democratic system, often captured through the ex-combatants’ preference for vot-
ing over other forms of participation. Clearly, the ex-combatants can be in favor
of democracy and still identify problems with the way democracy is currently
expressed in the political system, which in turn impacts their choice of channel
for political influence. In contrast with their democratic ideals, the political sys-
tem is found wanting and this resulted in a critique of current political practices
in Liberia.
Fragility of the political system

Another central theme among the ex-combatants was the sense that political
regimes and institutions are inherently fragile. In part the strength of government
and institutions, and indeed the quality of democracy, was dependent upon the
strength and character of its leaders and individuals (G3, Y1, Y3, L1 and M1). The
fragility of the political system was the result of several things, not only internal
weaknesses but also external threats from the international community. In the eyes
of the ex-combatants, this was very problematic as it meant that the system was
unable to live up to their demands of stability and safety. Political institutions are
not deemed strong enough to ensure the survival and safety of their community.
Democracy in itself was seen as easily derailed if the wrong people obtain
power. This was seen as highly likely, as people do not show their true colors dur-
ing election campaigns. This was especially the case as the premise of democracy
is that everyone is welcome to take part, thereby even bad people can participate
in elections and deceive people. This understanding resonates with other descrip-
tions of the political culture of Liberia, where it is stressed that men’s motives are
often hidden (Yoder 2003, p. 63). Alternatively, being in power changed people
for the worse, resulting in bad people being in charge (F1 and Y1). Hence institu-
tions are neither strong enough to keep the wrong people out, nor good enough to
avoid those in power from becoming drunk with power. This in turn was seen as
something that could lead to civil unrest when people discover the truth, followed
by the army stepping in to control the situation and finally democracy coming to
naught.4
The fragility of the political system was also noticeable from their discussion
of the international community. The comments expressed concerning the interna-
tional community was one of two extremes: either the international community
was seen as a recourse when their own government fails (e.g. for jobs, for invest-
ment, for development, for financial backing) (G4, L1, Y3, M2 and M3); or the
international community was seen as an entity that interfered in Liberian politics,
through supplying weapons and arms for war or distorting the results of elections
(1997 and 2005) (F1, U3, M1, M2 and M3). In both cases, it is evident that great
power is seen as vested in this entity, oftentimes not defined further than just that:
the international community. Both perspectives on the international community
underscore the perception of political regimes as fragile, either in need of external
support or not being able to withstand external interference. Yoder has noted that
viewing Liberia as dependent on the international community has also made it
more important for political candidates to be perceived as having credible interna-
tional contacts, as they will serve as possible resources for getting things done in
Liberia (Yoder 2003, p. 152). When discussing Ellen Johnson Sirleaf and George
Weah, for instance, the ex-combatants tended to emphasize the presence of such
links when arguing in their favor, as seen later in this chapter.
Another area where the ex-combatants identified internal threats to the politi-
cal system was, at least for some, associated with the Truth and Reconciliation
Commission (TRC). The women in F2 were concerned by what could be stirred up
by the events unfolding in the TRC. One participant clearly voiced her concerns:
Because it already happened, so it make people feel bad. It happen, it happen.

So, let’s just consider one another, just forget. That will be better. Talking
about it, will increase the problem here. This person killed my mother, so
it will be in my mind, I will tell my children that woman killed your grand-
mother. And they will mature, and they will still carry it. So we must forget
about it. […] forgive in your heart.
(participant, F2)
To some extent this reflects a tendency to deal with past injustices through forget-
ting and suppressing the past (see also Yoder 2003, pp. 217–21; Bolten 2012).
Talking about the past and making past injustices known represented to the
women in group F2 a potential threat, namely a prolonging of the conflict. Openly
admitting to internal breakdowns of the community contained an inherent risk: a
further destruction of the collective. Again, this reinforces the view of the political
system as something fragile.
The fragility of the political system as noted by the ex-combatants was experi-
enced as deeply problematic. The political system was seen as exposed to threats,
both internal and external, eroding the system’s stability and integrity. While some
of these threats were interpreted as an expression of parental concern, for instance
in the form of the international community’s behavior, they were not appreciated
and interpreted as an erosion of the system’s stability.
Questioning election results

For many, a central tenet of democracy was elections and implementing the
will of the people (F1, L1, L2, U3, Y2, Y3, M2 and M3). In several of the
groups the issue of the presidential elections and Weah’s loss put into question
the legitimacy of the elections as a whole. When both Weah and Johnson Sirleaf
failed to obtain a majority (Weah received 28.3 percent and Johnson Sirleaf 19.8
percent) (Electoral Division 2006, p. 48), a second round of presidential elec-
tions was required. In the end, Johnson Sirleaf won the run-off with a small
margin. Weah contested the results, and only conceded after rigorous court
appeals a month after the results were declared. During Weah’s contestation of
the results, several protests were organized, and some turned violent (possibly
due to actions on both the part of the police and Weah’s supporters) (IRIN News
2005a; Houreld 2005; IRIN News 2005b). The ex-combatants’ personal identi-
fication with Weah was central to their emotional attachment to Weah and their
response to his loss.
A lot of the participants did not understand why a run-off election was organ-
ized; their line of argument was that Weah got the most votes, thereby he also won
the first round and there was no need for a second round. Thus, in part, the idea
of run-off elections seemed to several as staged by those who wanted a different
result (M1, M2, M3, F2 and Y3).5 Some were very clear about who they suspected
of cheating, namely the international community, the Americans, or the National
Elections Commission (NEC) (M1, M2, F1). Again, this reflects the fragility of
the political system as seen by the ex-combatants. Group F1 was very explicit
about their distrust for NEC, and indeed election observers in general, referenc-
ing the 1997 elections as well. Others were more vague, but had doubts about
whether the will of the people was accurately reflected in the election results, thus
underscoring the system’s unresponsive qualities: “When the CDC not win that
is not election, that is selection. When CDC not win, there will be problem in this
country” (Harvey, F3). Most of those that questioned the result of the election had
also been active in campaigns for Weah.
Several statements made by the Weah campaign, such as “Weah winning the
first round with 62 percent of the votes”, or claims that “he could only be defeated
through massive cheating engineered by the US” (Harris 2006, p. 390; NDI 2007,
p. 24) certainly contributed to these perceptions among his supporters and the
ex-combatants. These statements and the campaign’s refusal to accept the elec-
tion results played a part in the creation of this mistrust. Almost three years later
this suspicion still lived on. This suspicion was only observed among the urban
ex-combatants. The longevity of their suspicion underlines the gravity of their
distrust and associated antagonism toward the system. As many as 24.3 percent
of the ex-combatants described the election as not free and fair (see Table B.2,
Appendix B), whereas as many as 43.2 percent believed it was completely free
and fair. The ex-combatants are considerably polarized on this issue; either you
forcefully distrust the elections or you have complete faith in them. This polariza-
tion is consistent with findings from research on the 2011 election, where some
of these ex-combatants were re-interviewed about their electoral experience and
perceptions of legitimacy. Again, the ex-combatants’ experience with the political
elite and the political parties during the election revealed a distrustful and defiant
relationship with the establishment, detracting from the legitimacy of the elec-
tion (Söderström 2013b; for more on electoral experiences in Liberia, see also
Söderström 2009, 2010).
Being able to question the elections (both the results and the procedures that
surround the election) is an indication of the ex-combatants’ ability to express
critique and a reflection of their antagonism. Yet distrust of the election results
is problematic, as it spills over into questioning the legitimacy of the system as
a whole.6 At the same time, contestation over election results reflects in itself a
critical and reflective stance by the ex-combatants, where they feel able to ques-
tion the current order.
The ex-combatants’ depiction of the political system as a whole suggests a
system of competing layers of power. This hierarchical system is not seen as sta-
ble enough in the eyes of the ex-combatants, but vulnerable to both internal and
external threats. In addition, the system fails to live up to the ex-combatants’ ideal
of a political system that is responsive and acts in the interests of the citizenry.
These breakdowns and failures of what a political community should be are also
the source of their institutional antagonism.
Elite antagonism
The following sections examine the expression of antagonism in relation to the
political elite. Just as the political system as a whole is deemed to be failing, so
do individual politicians fail to deliver on the ideals the ex-combatants embrace.
In comparison to the section on institutional antagonism, which was largely due
to Liberia’s failure as a democracy, in this section another ideal comes through.
The ideal is that of a personal relationship, with associated responsibility and care.
This failure, namely politicians that operate out of self-interest and who are largely
deceitful, becomes a source of antagonism for the ex-combatants. In combination
with this criticism of corruption and deception, the ex-combatants also express a
concomitant disappointment with a lack of patronage and with politicians that do
not provide enough. Hence the antagonism directed at the elite is based on two
main issues: the threat to the community posed by the elite, and their failure to live up
to obligations inherent in their role as leaders. It is also clear that the ex-combatants
experienced a divide in society, an inequality which the elite exacerbates rather
than bridges. The elite is thereby placed in an oppositional role vis-à-vis the ex-
combatants, again underscoring their hierarchical understanding of politics.
Before embarking on this description, it is worth noting that this section
relates to conceptions of patronage and the importance of the relational, even if
this is sometimes differently named (“bigmanity”, see e.g. Utas 2012; Hoffman
2007; Käihkö 2012; “wealth in people”, Bledsoe 1976; Hardgrove 2012; “(neo-)
patrimonialism”, see e.g. Lindberg 2003; Bratton and van de Walle 1997; and
“paternalism”, see e.g. Du Toit 1993). While these concepts are not interchange-
able, they share a number of common traits. This literature stresses the importance
of relationships and how, in turn, they order society. Dependency is central to
these relationships, in particular stressing reciprocity and responsibility within
these relationships. The community depends on the functioning of these ties,
which does not have to be limited to economic, social or political functions. This
hierarchical ordering of society is often combined with a notion that each unit or
node has a responsibility toward the collective. Thus everyone, irrespective of
position within the hierarchy, has responsibility for the community as a whole.
This section is not about this ordering of society per se, but it is important for
understanding the ex-combatants’ expression of antagonism toward the elite, as
they embrace these ideals of ordering society.
The sections that follow start with perceptions of corruption and motives among
politicians, followed by a discussion of the inherent responsibility leaders have.
Finally, the chapter ends with a detailed analysis of their relationship with three
specific politicians, namely: Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, Charles Taylor and George
Weah. As the relationship with the elite is personal rather than general, it is impor-
tant to examine their understanding of the elite via three specific individuals.
Self-interest and deceit

Politicians were generally not seen as working in the interest of others. For most,
self-interest and deceit summarized the behavior of the elite, although there were
some exceptions (U1, U2, L2, F2 and G4). The ex-combatants in group L2 were
one such exception, as they felt that the government listens, and representative
bodies of government could be trusted. Similarly, Frank in group U1 believed
the post-war government was trying to help all of Liberia, and he also saw the
government as instrumental in enabling him to support himself and his family.
Participants in U2 also felt that the government helps people, especially those
without family support, and they were seen as quite efficient in this. Examining
the data from the Afrobarometer, very few (5 percent) believed all elected repre-
sentatives were innocent of corruption (see Table C.1, Appendix C).
Most government officials and politicians (people in authority or with
resources) were generally described as caring for themselves and their own fam-
ily relations. Given the chance, they would try to profit from their position to help
their own family and relatives (G1, G2, G3, L1, Y3, U3, M2 and M3). Corruption
and nepotism in Liberia have been extensive in the past, and continue to be so
(Reno 2008; Dolo 1996, p. 10f; Bureau of Democracy 2014). Kirby, L1, noted
that this self-interest and nepotism was at the center of the deceitful behavior
noted in government: “that’s why they trick other simple people, nothing else.”
A woman in group G2 said that: “Government does not have time for people,
they only care about themselves.” However, the participants in group Y3 felt that
this self-interest and nepotism were not limited to politicians, but applicable for
all of Liberia. Alex described it thus: “In Sweden, people put country first, but
in Liberia you find that people put their interest first, so that’s the problem. […]
Everybody for themselves, me, I and myself” (Alex, Y3). Alex notes something
important here, namely that this kind of behavior among the elite is problematic
because it undermines the larger collective. While the elite may care for their own
family, they fail to care for the larger family, the political community as a whole.
It is this failure toward the community as a whole which gave rise to antagonism
among the ex-combatants.
Shiloh (L2) claimed that politicians promise too much and overstate what they
can do. Others felt cheated by politicians as it relates to representation, i.e. the self-
interests of the politicians take over as soon as the election is over. One participant
expressed it thus: “the representatives are not able to represent, those we send,
they are not able to represent us” (Kasper, L1) and another participant expressed
it as: “they are only there for themselves, they are not there for … the poor people,
grass-root people, they are not there for them” (Kevin, L1). Similarly, Hank in
group F3 stated: “I need your vote, if it happens that I win, I will do so and so, so
thing. After election, they cannot be fulfilled.”
Being corrupt was intimately tied with lying and indicative of deceit in general
(G1, U3, L1, F1, F3, Y3, M1, M2 and M3). Hassan in group F3 even felt that
corruption was the biggest problem facing Liberia: “yeah, the big problem now,
now, is our leaders. Because they are not fair to us. […] They carry on a lot of
corruption in this country.” In this group, corruption was also noted in the court
system, and they felt that justice was only for those with money, not for them (F3).
Participants in group M3 also connected corruption to war:
The form of government, the problem we have here now, when the branches
of government, when the executive tells the other branches to do something,
but they keep the money. For their house. Keep it for their family. That is one
of the MAIN problems. […] Then war can come, we don’t want it to happen,
but they still be doing it, and begging for war to come.
(Vito, M3)
Corruption was also problematic for these groups, as it was an indication of a

failure to focus on the concerns of the citizens.
Campaign promises left unfulfilled, either because someone lost an election
or because a policy was never implemented, were often perceived as lies (Y2,
M1, M2 and M3). The ex-combatants felt that this was purposeful deception on
the part of the politicians, in order to woe them during elections (G3, U1, U3, L2
and M2). This resonates with their view of authorities as mainly driven by self-
interest, rather than the common good (G3, U3 and M3). For instance, Michael
in U3 noted:
People in the government, they do nothing for us here. […] For one fact, if
you say you are going to help us, you should be there for us. […] They have
to come here and say, we are here for you people. Since we put them in office.
That’s what they should do. That is the main problem we are facing. So we
are having great problem with our leadership.
(Michael, U3)
In group G3, it was felt that this was more the case for politicians when they dealt
with ex-combatants, and that this treatment could propel him into action. Brandon,
in group G3, stated that: “Yeah, they lie. What you say to me today, you do not
do it. That will make me angry, anything I want to do, I will do it.” Similarly,
Murray in group U3, noted that “most of our political leaders have a sugar mouth,
they will say the sweet things to you, when you put them there tomorrow […] if
they want something from you, they will sweeten it for you”. Failure to deliver on
promises or obligations as they are understood by the ex-combatants are thereby
interpreted as acts of deception. This deception becomes a source of antagonism
toward the elite.
Responsibility of leaders
In general, the groups’ discussions about politicians, the notions of corruption and
self-interest also coincided with a sense that political leaders have a lot of power.
Again, this echoes the sentiment that political institutions are fragile and dependent
upon the character of that one person. For instance, the participants in L1 expressed
frustration with leaders in the country who spend a lot of time abroad (in par-
ticular, in the United States), and fail to return home and implement what they
have learned there: “we see our government officials, every one of them been in
America, living in America for very long time; and they know how the Americans
carrying on democracy there. Why is it that when they come here they can’t prac-
tice it and tell us what to do?” (Kirby, L1). Myths of going away to amass power
and knowledge, eventually returning home to use that knowledge to reestablish
yourself are central to Liberian culture (Utas 2008, p. 124; see also Hardgrove
2012). In some way, Kirby’s accusations of political leaders’ failure to bring home
and impart their knowledge of democracy could be seen in a similar light. Their
position of privilege comes with responsibilities toward the community as a whole.
Seeing political leaders as parental figures was also a reoccurring theme (L1,
Y3, U3, M1 and M3), as expressed in group M3 by one participant: “We want
one leader to take care of us. One leader to do everything for us.” Rather than
casting themselves in the roles of citizens, they tended to frame themselves as
subjects, as wards. This parental imagery is also noted in the section on specific
politicians. Casting politicians in this parental role assigns them increased respon-
sibility for the welfare of the citizenry. Using the Afrobarometer data, it becomes
clear that the ex-combatants share this view of government as a parent with the
public at large. When asked which statement they agreed with more, 85.4 percent
of the ex-combatants agreed with the statement “People are like children; the
government should take care of them like a parent,” in contrast with the statement
“Government is like an employee; the people should be the bosses who control
government” (see Table 4.3).
Related to this is also the view of politicians as not taking enough responsi-
bility for Liberia, looking beyond their own individual situation. For instance,
group Y1 and L2, felt that politicians who lost an elections should engage more
in government, and help instead of criticizing: “whenever you lose, you should
work with the successful party and help the people” (Shiloh, L2). This idea of the
responsibilities of the opposition party will be discussed more in Chapter 5.
The role of a leader, much like a parent, is to take care and dispose of the respon-
sibilities associated with this particular role. Failure to mantle this responsibility
(as indicated by corruption or self-interest) was a source of antagonism among the
ex-combatants. A similar ideational structure is noted in a study of Liberian refu-
gees in the United States (Brown 2011). This group expressed similar conceptions
of the US government and underlined the importance of personal and affective
relationships in politics. Through casting the state in a parental role, these refugees
created duties and obligations on the part of the state to care for them:
these refugees view their relationship with their host government as a new
relationship, one that is both personal and political, that replaces those they
have lost […] Receiving assistance therefore entails not a demeaning series
of bureaucratic interventions but a process of dialogue, or relationship build-
ing, and of care giving with the state.
(Brown 2011, p. 155)
This (as well as the data from the Afrobarometer) suggest that this political lan-
guage and ways of understanding political relationships are not limited to the
ex-combatant community in Liberia, but are indicative of Liberian politics at
large. The use of this parental imagery is also found in armed groups more gen-
erally outside Liberia, possibly due to the extreme sense of responsibility and
dependency implied within such groups, as well as the totality of such organiza-
tions: they constitute your whole life much like a family does (see among others
Vermeij 2011, p. 181; Peters 2011, pp. 82–4; see also Segal 1986; Bird 1980). In
Mozambique, both FRELIMO and RENAMO soldiers have been noted to use
this parental or patriarchal imagery to describe both war and post-war realities.
In a similar fashion as noted in Liberia, this appeal to parental roles is used to
assign post-war responsibilities to both the state and former commanders. Failure
Table 4.3â•‡ Government like a parent vs. an employeea
Q 18: Which of the following statements is closest to your view? Choose statement (1) or
statement (2).
â•‡ (1) People are like children; the government should take care of them like a parent
â•‡ (2) G
overnment is like an employee; the people should be the bosses who control
government
Total 100.0% (1,156) 100.0% (41)
Note
to deliver on such responsibilities, in the face of the former combatants having

fulfilled their part of the bond, was a source of frustration and disappointment
(Schafer 2004; see also Roll 2013; Metsola 2010; Utas 2013; Hardgrove 2012).
Addressing Johnson Sirleaf, Taylor, and Weah

In some of the groups, the ex-combatants addressed themselves directly to the cur-
rent president, Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, the former president Charles Taylor, or the
presidential candidate George Weah. Some took on this opportunity with fervor,
others not. Examining their relationship with these three central political figures
in Liberian politics will shed further light on the reasons for, and content of, their
antagonism toward the political elite, but it will also highlight some of the find-
ings from the section on institutional antagonism as well as the ex-combatants’
understanding of themselves as peripheral.
Ellen Johnson Sirleaf7

Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, the current president of Liberia was often talked about as
Old Ma, and most often people wanted to remind her of her campaign promises
and the importance of keeping these promises to the nation. Because a lot of them
were dissatisfied with current conditions in Liberia, and progress was not made
at the speed they expected, she was the natural outlet for opinions concerning
this (L1, L2, U3 and M1). The ex-combatants felt that very little had been done
and that she does not take care of them, and consequently wanted her to leave
office (M1 and M2). However, group F2 also expressed a sense of gratitude for
the improvements they had seen so far. Some mainly suggested that she needed
to focus on the right things: the interest of the people; helping ex-combatants;
domestic issues and travel less; or abide by the constitution; help the youth get
education and work; bring in more NGOs to the country; and bring the price of
rice and food down (price control) (L1, L2, Y1, Y2, Y3, F1, F2, M1, M2 and
M3). Adding weight to the issue of the price of rice, one participant said: “The
rice business in this country, that is what bring the war before. We see it now too.
Everybody got to eat, every day. Same rice business that brought the war.” (Y2).
Participants in M1 and M2 felt the president should step down due to her fail-
ure to deliver on her parental responsibility:
She can’t tell me she doesn’t know the problem we have in the country now,
the food. […] She is our mother, she will cater to us! [indistinguishable]
every day you beating the child, you think that child will ever like to lay hand
on you? […] because the pain – we in PAIN TOO MUCH! […] Yes, let her
leave this place, because she is not able to take care of us!
(M1)
On the same topic, participants in M3 suggested that if she does not handle these
issues, she would not continue as president of this country as they would choose
someone else to lead them.
Some also felt that she should make sure that Charles Taylor was brought back
to Liberia. They did not like that he was being chided by the international com-
munity, bringing shame to Liberia in the process. Instead they preferred him to be
dealt with at home, no matter if he had done something wrong or not:
Charles Taylor that’s her son, and he’s the first former president of Liberia.
[…] she must try to defend the man. If he falls in any kind of category, it can
be right or wrong, she must try to fight for the man.
(Kevin, L1)
Related to some of the post-war disappointment noted among the ex-combatants,

some groups clearly wanted the President to make sure the ex-combatants were
satisfied: “the army people are dissatisfied. They will march. That made me afraid.
I never saw that before, I thinking war coming again.” (Yasmin, Y2). Some par-
ticipants in group Y2 and Y3 also seemed to feel that Ellen Johnson Sirleaf was
responsible for bringing the war to Liberia in the past, whereas group Y3 also felt
that she should “confess, not to man, but to God, because she has done a lot of
wicked, wicked things!” (Austen, Y3). Commenting on her relation with the ex-
combatants in particular, Adam in group Y3 said that:
Sirleaf, she is our mother, she needs to love us. They need us to fight war, at
the end of the day, they can’t be against us, because people are still calling us
ex-combatants, rebels! I don’t think she should be saying that, as a mother. I
don’t care how wicked your child is, your child is always your child. Yeah.
Adam clearly tries to cast the President in a role of a parent, thereby creating obli-
gations and responsibilities on her part. He describes both the ideal relationship
he wants as well as expressing disappointment and antagonism. One participant,
however, felt that he had nothing to say to her, because he did not reckon she
would listen to him: “I ain’t got nothing to say to her, because everything I say
[…] She will not listen to me. Because who am I to say anything to her? […] So
I don’t have anything to say to her.” (Valentino, M3). This stance underlines how
he sees himself as subordinate and marginalized in society.
Overall, this parental understanding of Ellen Johnson Sirleaf among the ex-
combatants as the Old Ma reflects the political campaign and strategies employed
by Johnson Sirleaf. Moran describes how such rhetoric and imagery were
employed preceding the election in 2005, thereby invoking both emotive bonds
and the authority associated with parentage (Moran 2012, pp. 54–61). Moran
sharply notes that:
To call someone an ‘Old Ma’ may communicate either affection or distaste,

but it always implies respect. It is an acknowledgement of hierarchy […] A
‘love-hate’ relationship with one’s mother, of course, is familiar across many
times and cultures, but her right to assert authority is not subject to question.
(Moran 2012, pp. 61–2)
This understanding of both Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, and the elite more generally, is
clearly visible among the ex-combatants. Casting politicians in a role of parent
underlines both their authority and associated obligations. It also introduces an
emotive bond in politics, at times resulting in antagonism and at other times in
affection.
Charles Taylor8
Charles Taylor was often referred to as Old Pa, or big papa, and thereby cast
in a similar role to Johnson Sirleaf. When commenting on Charles Taylor more
directly, quite a few noted that life had been easier during his regime, mainly
as food was cheaper then. Often they would also claim that he was a more effi-
cient and capable leader, that they appreciated his administration and his ability to
implement policy (G3, Y2, L1, M2 and M3). Indeed, during his regime, Charles
Taylor has been noted to have had an absolute control of the economy, a complete
monopoly in fact (Moran 2006, p. 33). A participant in group L1, for instance,
noted quite sharply: “During the administration of Mr. Taylor, food was cheap …
Although the guns were here, we not in peace, but things were much better com-
pared to today.” Quite a few of the groups also wanted Charles Taylor to return
to Liberia (L1, F1, U3 and Y3). The ex-combatants perceived Taylor as someone
able to deliver on the responsibilities associated with his political role.
It is interesting to note that there were groups who spoke favorably of Charles
Taylor, even though they fought against him during the war (G3, Y1 and M3). In
fact, Vernon was quite upset about having fought against Taylor:
I was fighting against Taylor, to step down […], I did not know that things
were going to be hard like this now. […] But I was fighting against him,
to step down. We the ones who make Taylor step down. So I feel BAD
about that.
(Vernon, M3)
The LURD participants in Y1 stated that they had love for him, but wanted him to
disclose what he knows about Sierra Leone, although they seemed to believe he
was innocent of the charges laid before him. Group M3 wanted to ask him ques-
tions about who else had been involved and benefited from the war. Similarly,
group L2 felt he should forget about the past, be honest about his previous affairs
and plea for mercy and apologize to the Liberian government. Another group, Y3,
wanted him to face his charges courageously and ask for mercy. One participant
in that group, however, was less optimistic about the outcome of the trial: “there
is no hope, you go back to jail, because those that live by the sword die by the
sword”.
Group F1 also felt that external forces had contributed to the demise of Charles
Taylor and pushed him into the war:
People in Liberia may have problem with maybe his behavior but where did
the arms come from? The arms came from outside the borders of Liberia and
who brought it? There is no arm that is being purchased without the credence
of one or two of the international community. So, the international commu-
nity supported the war coming to Liberia. So is that democracy?
(Earl, F1)
They all felt that the country had to move on and forgive Charles Taylor for his
past actions, and let him return to Liberia. Similarly, Yona in Y2 suggested that
more people than Taylor were culpable for the war, and that his actions during
the war were directed by someone else. Again, this underlines the fragility of the
political system in Liberia as seen by the ex-combatants.
Group U3 felt Taylor had been a good leader, who unfortunately had never
been given a chance by the international community. Michael captured the senti-
ments of the group well, when he said:
And for our big papa [Charles Taylor] [laughing] […] Some of us, we never
joined the revolution because we wanted to be rich or be somebody tomor-
row. We joined the revolution to free our country, and when he came that is
what he told us. We saw what he came for. The [1997] election, why he killed
our ma, he killed our pa, why we vote for him. Yes, we put him there. Put that
man in the house, I want him to be a good leader for me […] the very day we
elect Taylor as our leader, he sat in that chair, but the chair became hard for
him. The next day they started a war on the other side, in Lofa, they started
attacking him. What the man said he’d do, I decide to change everybody’s
life, allow the man to do it, but the international community wanted to get rid
of him, that’s how the war came to this country, to tarnish the reputation of
Taylor. […] when you come from war, you need a very hard man to lead. The
man that spoiled the place, is the only man to fix the place. So if we only give
a chance to Taylor, for the six years, we see so many changes in this country.
(Michael, U3)
Charles Taylor represented a figure of authority who, while he had been able to
deliver on his obligations toward the collective, was exposed to external threats
which undermined his behavior and position. As a part of the Liberian community
he needed to be accepted back, and, rather than opening up a can of worms, the ex-
combatants expressed a need to move on and forgive Taylor. The opposite seemed
more threatening to the safety and well-being of the community. Safeguarding the
honor of Liberia, of the collective, was more central to many than holding Charles
Taylor accountable.
George Weah9
Addresses made to George Weah varied between two extremes: either the groups
wanted him to run again, and he might be the only one they would vote for, and
they believed he had been cheated out of the election (F2, Y2, Y3, M1, M2 and
M3); or they wanted him to forget about politics and focus on football and help
Liberia in other ways (Y1, F1 and L2). Shiloh in group L2 said: “with George
Weah, if I were to talk with him, for the issue of politics, get back to his football
career, as a human being everyone has their specialization, and I don’t think poli-
tics is his.” Several also felt that he should focus on educating himself, no matter
how they felt about the last election (F1, F2, U3, Y2, Y3, M2 and M3). The ex-
combatants in group U3 were clear about their future support for him, should he
decide to run again, but they wanted him to be more careful about what he says in
public, and that he should make an effort to make sure that those campaigning for
him behave well and are under control. Group M2 was convinced Weah had been
cheated out of the election because the Americans did not feel he was educated
enough. To them, however, education was something different from leadership,
and leadership was something given by God.10 In fact, to them the more educated
politicians were seen as more likely to become corrupt, as education breeds greed.
The participants in Y3 clearly admired George Weah. Their support for him
was partly based on the belief that “he has very close relations with the European
community. All European nations, after the time spent in Europe.” (Alex, Y3), and
as noted by another participant: “We love him for so many reasons. He is clear.
He plays football. […] he never used armed conflict to enrich himself, so there is
no ink! So he is clear.” One participant in this group, though, did not feel George
Weah should involve himself in politics anymore. Adam was often the odd one out
in this group, on many issues. Underscoring Adam’s belief in the meddling of the
international community and Weah’s inability to overcome such forces, he said:
George Weah […] he should forget about politics. The people knew who
won, there are certain people that feel like they control Liberia […] they
always come and […] and put anybody on us, they don’t really have interest,
but just to get what they need. […] Just tell him to forget it. Open great job,
company, where he can employ the youth.
(Adam, Y3)
The ex-combatants’ understanding of George Weah differed from their under-

standing of Johnson Sirleaf and Taylor, in that he was perceived as closer to
ex-combatants; instead of a parent he was identified as one of them, a peer and
a member of their generation. Seen as a youth, unspoiled by both the war and
corruption (in part due to lack of education and associated empowerment), Weah
represented another kind of elite in Liberia, yet able to deliver on his obligations
if elected (in part due to his international network). The one source of antagonism
related to Weah was perhaps that he failed to care for them as he should in the
post-election phase. In connection with Weah, the political system’s weakness to
external powers (the international community) was highlighted again.
The examination of the ex-combatants’ relationship with these three politicians
has highlighted the more general themes associated with the political elite among
the ex-combatants. Their antagonism toward the elite is related to what they per-
ceive as a failure to deliver on the obligations associated with political leadership.
These failures were in part associated with failing to care enough for the political
community as a whole, and for making the political system as a whole vulnerable.
The self-interest, corruption and deceit associated with the elite were seen as indi-
cations of this failure. However, their ideal relationship with politicians was also
hierarchical. In fact, as many as 64.3 percent of the ex-combatants believe citizens
should show more respect for authority, rather than actively question their lead-
ers (see Table C.2, Appendix C). This hierarchical preference highlights unequal
positions and the contention associated with such differentiation. Yet their ideal
behavior in this position is to respect authority, to show deference rather than
openly question those in power. This understanding of politics underscores a we
and a them, a vertical distinction in society, which was central to their antagonism.
The section on the elite has also highlighted another important aspect of politics
in Liberia and among the ex-combatants. Their political ideal is often linked with
emotional relations and obligations. Their understanding of the elite in parental
terms can in part be seen as an attempt to bridge the vertical divide in society, but most
importantly it underlines an emotive logic in politics among the ex-combatants:
affect rather than political ideas structure their system of political thought.
Conclusion: democratic and hierarchical ideals

This chapter has demonstrated the amount of dissatisfaction with the current state
of affairs in politics among the Liberian ex-combatants. The idea of “politics” as
such is negatively charged, associated with conflict, destruction and the pursuit
of power. Government was often seen as distanced from people in general and
not interested in their concerns. Quite a few also had specific grievances related
to their experience as combatants, where they felt that they as a group were not
cared for enough in the post-war era. They seem to yearn for a government that
truly listens to their concerns, highlighting deficiencies related to their sense of
external efficacy. The political system does not live up to their ideal, and this
contrast is in part the source of their antagonism. Their antagonism toward the
political system rested on their disappointment with Liberia as a democracy, the
unresponsive character of the political system, as well as its fragility, and was
also noticeable through their questioning of the outcome of the elections. Their
antagonism toward the elite rested on a reading of their behavior as driven by
self-interest, rather than taking responsibility for the political system or the ex-
combatants. Together with experiencing themselves in a subordinate position in
society, this cast the ex-combatants in the role of antagonists. To some degree,
the resistance expressed by the ex-combatants toward the political system and the
political elite was a way to regain some sense of control in the face of their mar-
ginalization. It is notable, however, that the one antagonism that was missing is
that toward the other warring part from the war. The ex-combatants did not voice
hostility toward the other warring factions or individual ex-combatants belonging
to another armed group. This non-antagonism is striking, and again reinforces
their view of Liberian society as primarily hierarchically divided. Some of the
ex-combatants did express hesitations toward specific ethnic groups, such as the
Mandingos, as will be discussed in Chapter 6.
Corruption, deceit and self-interest were key characteristics of politics and
politicians in general in the ex-combatants’ view, an experience that resonates
with the current practices of politics in Liberia. In general as well as in relation to
election experiences, persons matter more in the face of weak institutions. It was
clear to the ex-combatants that when individuals fail there is no offsetting force
that can attenuate such experiences. Distrust concerning the election results was
in particular more evident among the urban groups. Possibly this is connected to
a closeness to politics in general and active involvement in campaigning (Weah
supporters), as well as competition in the media space in Monrovia. This critique
was also more evident among the more educated groups, such as the university
students in group F1. Their electoral experience is to a large degree shaped by
feelings of abandonment and being cheated.
Politics is understood in hierarchical terms, where leaders and politicians are
often placed in a parental role; either as someone to care for them or as someone
who treats them as inferior, as children. This parental relationship and view of
politics suggest an emotive understanding of politics. Similarly, the quality of
a leader is not necessarily dependent on their capacities and credentials (such
as their level of education), but on what they accomplish and if they take on the
charge of being a leader. This charge and responsibility is seen as either God-given
or based on the leader acting as a parent, in part providing for the citizens. This
relationship is thereby expected to be more persistent, beyond electoral turnover.
This emphasis on hierarchical values stands in stark contrast with the egalitarian
traits embedded in democratic practices.
This aspect of politics has a double edge to it, however. On the one hand they
want to be cared for, but they also do not want to be treated as inferior or as chil-
dren (by Liberian politicians or by the international community). The limits of
government are contrasted against the more powerful individuals that determine
the quality of government. The understanding of the international community’s
relationship with Liberia is understood in similar terms, as an entity that can be
applied to for care and support, but also one that interferes and acts as a guardian
of the Liberian regime, at times without being invited to do so. Society is made up
of parents that require deference and respect and citizens that do not act out and
cause trouble for their parents, but rather who suppress their dissent for the safety
of the community as a whole. This clearly resonates with the description of poli-
tics in Liberia, and the war, as one of gerontocratic rule and confrontation. While
the dichotomy between young and old is certainly relevant here, this hierarchical
relation is not only one they rebel against, but also one that is sought after.
How coherent is the ex-combatant community on this dimension? The focus
groups varied in their expression of antagonism, some more antagonistic than
others. The following groups were the most antagonistic groups: U3, M1, M2,
M3, L1, Y3, F1; whereas U1, U2, G4, L2, and Y1 were the least antagonistic.
The antagonistic perspective was particularly evident in the groups that attended
the Monrovia Vocational Training Center for their reintegration program. Overall,
male ex-combatants expressed more antagonism than female combatants. As
would be expected, ex-combatants experiencing more economic deprivation also
tended to be more antagonistic. It was also noticeable that former combatants
belonging to the MODEL faction tended to be more antagonistic than the other
armed groups. The comparison with the general population as a whole is more
limited in this chapter, as there are fewer items in the Afrobarometer that tap into
this. Overall, however, there were no large differences between the ex-combatants
and the general public. The ex-combatant community raises concerns about con-
temporary politics in Liberia in a way that does not seem to distinguish them from
the population as a whole (except for their particular post-war disappointments).
Thus, seeing the ex-combatant community as particularly threatening in Liberia
is problematic.
The ex-combatants have real, and well-founded, concerns about how politics
is conducted in Liberia. They voice concerns about corruption and distrust of
politicians and institutions. This is not, necessarily, indicative of failed politi-
cal reintegration on their part. These systemic evaluations of politics in Liberia
today (for example, the degree of democracy) are an example of how the notion
of political reintegration needs to be separated from, for instance, their sense of
external efficacy. In fact, the ex-combatants clearly voice democratic ideals, as
seen in their views on the importance of freedom of speech, deliberation and the
centrality of implementing the will of the people. Much of their critique of current
practices in Liberia is related to these ideals. Thus, beyond a superficial endorse-
ment of democracy, the ex-combatants also express some support for pluralism
and equality, resonating with democratic ideals. However, the content of their
political voice also include some norms and values that do not fit within this
framework, namely the more authoritarian and hierarchical traits. This chapter
has made clear that there is a lack of coherence between their critique of cor-
ruption on the one hand and their search for patronage on the other. In part their
antagonism is fuelled by disappointments related to democracy and in part by dis-
appointments related to patronage. Thus, to simply cast ex-combatants in a threat
mold is problematic. The ex-combatants demonstrate, in part, that they have the
potential to be democrats, who are angry and critical of current political develop-
ments, and that they sometimes avoid channeling this frustration so not to derail
politics in Liberia.
Notes
â•‡ 1 Among the 398 ex-combatants surveyed in Monrovia, 13 percent were noted to feel
that life was worse now than during the war.
â•‡ 2 The card or ID-card referred to here is an ID-card distributed by the DDR program that
was used to identify the ex-combatants and allow them to access the program benefits.
â•‡ 3 Eating is often a metaphor used in politics in Liberia that relates to the acquisition of
power and wealth (see e.g. Yoder 2003, p. 42; Ellis 2007, p. 221).
â•‡ 4 While the participants did not name names, this exposé mirrors the events and experi-
ences with Amos Sawyer. Sawyer had a clear image as a democrat who had criticized
earlier regimes extensively concerning corruption and patronage among other things,
yet who utterly failed to live up to his own ideals when he became president of the
interim government in 1990 (see e.g. Yoder 2003, p. 346).
â•‡ 5 In comparison to the general sentiment among several of the ex-combatants that Weah
was cheated out of the election, in reality several things worked in favor of Weah rather
than Johnson Sirleaf: the native-Americo-Liberian divide, wealth, media coverage and
endorsements by other leading politicians (Sawyer 2008, pp. 185, 187; IRI 2006, p. 13;
Harris 2006, pp. 384, 388; NDI 2007, pp. 20–2; see also Bøås and Utas Forthcoming
for a discussion of the lines of division in the election in 2011). There were no blatant
moves in favor of Johnson Sirleaf, but it has been hard to ascertain the sources and
size of the campaign contributions to Weah’s and Sirleaf’s campaigns; thus it is impos-
sible to determine whether Johnson Sirleaf had an advantage in terms of resources and
implicit support from the West (Harris 2006, pp. 390, 378; NDI 2007, pp. 14, 15; IRI
2006, p. 10).
â•‡ 6 Comparing this election to the experience in Sierra Leone in 2007, when the second
election after the end of the war was held, there are some interesting similarities. Ex-
combatants became very involved in campaigning, especially in terms of providing
security (and havoc) for the politicians involved. The same feeling of distrust toward
politicians, and the feeling that the elections are a rare opportunity to be heard and
improve your life, was evident in Sierra Leone. They also noted a similar distrust for
the outcome of the election, depicting it as selection rather than election. Involvement
in campaigning was rarely done on a political basis, but more often for personal gain
(Christensen and Utas 2008, pp. 528–6).
â•‡ 7 Ellen Johnson Sirleaf is a graduate from Harvard and was a minister during the Tolbert
regime (1971–1980) in the late 1970s. She had some involvement with the Doe regime
in the 1980s, then became a supporter of Charles Taylor’s coup against Doe, and later
a sponsor of LURD’s fight against Taylor, and a former World Bank employee. The
Truth and Reconciliation Commission’s final report has recommended that Ellen John-
son Sirleaf, among several others, is barred from holding public office for the next
30 years, due to her involvement in the war (Truth and Reconciliation Commission –
Republic of Liberia 2009, p. 361). While Ellen Johnson Sirleaf continues to have a
good reputation abroad, she has been criticized for taking an ad hoc approach to poli-
cies in Liberia (Bøås 2010, p. 265). Originally, she had stated that she would not run
for re-election in 2011, but in January 2010 she announced her participation in the
presidential election. In early November 2010 she fired the entire cabinet of ministers,
with little explanation (Executive Mansion 2010). In October 2011, she was announced
as one of the winners of the Nobel Peace Prize (for more details on the peace prize, see
Moran 2012, p. 60), and received the most votes in the first round of the presidential
election, but not a majority. In the second round of the presidential elections she was
reelected for a second term.
â•‡ 8 Charles Taylor has both an Americo-Liberian as well as a Gola background. He was
educated in the United States, and held a cabinet position under Doe, as head of the
General Services Administration. It was in this role that he was charged with embezzle-
ment in the early 1980s, and subsequently arrested in the United States. He eventually
escaped prison, and was very instrumental in the outbreak of the war in Liberia, as well
as its continuation. During the war he controlled most of Liberia, with the exception
of the capital, and engaged in extensive financial extraction, for example, related to
lumber and diamond markets. In 1997 Charles Taylor won the presidential elections
in Liberia. Eventually he fled the country in 2003, and went into exile in Nigeria until
2006. Since 1991, Taylor was also involved in the war in Sierra Leone, through his
support of the Revolutionary United Front. In the end he was extradited to the Special
Court for Sierra Leone, and put on trial at the Hague. He has been charged with crimes
against humanity, war crimes and violations of international humanitarian law, in total
11 counts of indictment (Office of the Prosecutor 2007). The trial ran for well over
three years, and the judges retired to deliberate in March 2011, and delivered a ruling
on May 30, 2012. Charles Taylor was convicted on all 11 counts and sentenced to “50
years in prison for planning and for aiding and abetting crimes committed by rebel
forces in Sierra Leone during the country’s decade-long civil war” (Outreach and Pub-
lic Affairs Office 2012). While Charles Taylor appealed the sentence, the conviction
was upheld, and in October 2013 he was transferred to the United Kingdom to serve
the remainder of his sentence (Outreach and Public Affairs Office 2013a, 2013b).
â•‡ 9 George Weah is a high school dropout who grew up in the slum of Monrovia and
became an international football star. He was not involved in the war and has worked
as a goodwill ambassador for the United Nations Children’s Fund (UNICEF). During
the 2005 elections he was the standard bearer for the CDC party, and came close to
winning the presidential election, and has been noted to have “inspired a cross-ethnic
national youth following unlike any that had been seen anywhere else in the West Afri-
can subregion” (Batty 2011, p. 121). George Weah ran for vice-president in 2011, with
Winston Tubman, formerly with Liberia National Union, as the presidential candidate.
Tubman and Weah came second in the first round, but boycotted the second round of
the presidential election which they also lost.
10 This view of leadership as having religious overtones, leaders being endowed with
supernatural powers, has been noted elsewhere as well (see for instance Yoder 2003,
p. 154; Ellis 2007, p. 257).
References
“antagonism”. 1997. In The new international Webster’s concise dictionary of the English
Language, eds. S. I. Landau and R. J. Bogus. Naples: Trident Press International.
Annan, Kofi. 2005. “Eight progress report of the Secretary-General on the United Nations
Mission in Liberia.” Security Council, United Nations. S/2005/560.
Batty, Fodei. 2011. “Do Ethnic Groups Retain Homogenous Preferences in African Poli-
tics? Evidence from Sierra Leone and Liberia.” African Studies Review 54(1): 117–43.
Bird, John R. 1980. “The Borderline Patient and Military Life.” British Journal of Medical
Psychology 53(March): 85–90.
Bledsoe, Caroline. 1976. “Women’s Marital Strategies among the Kpelle of Liberia.” Jour-
nal of Anthropological Research 32(4): 372–89.
Bøås, Morten. 2010. “Liberia 2010 - på vei mot en ny æra, eller bara litt mindre av det
samme?” Internasjonal Politikk 68(2): 261–73.
———. 2013. “Youth agency in the ‘violent life-worlds’ of Kono District (Sierra Leone),
Voinjama (Liberia) and Northern Mali: ‘tactics’ and imaginaries.” Conflict, Security &
Development 13(5): 611–30.
Bøås, Morten, and Charles Artur. 2008. “Funérailles pour un ami: des luttes de citoyenneté
dans la guerre civile Libérienne.” Politique Africaine 4(112): 36–51.
Bøås, Morten, and Anne Hatløy. 2008. “‘Getting in, getting out’: militia membership and pros-
pects for re-integration in post-war Liberia.” Journal of Modern African Studies 46(1): 33–55.
Bøås, Morten, and Mats Utas. Forthcoming. “The Political Landscape of Post-War Liberia:
Historical dividing lines and the 2011 elections.” Africa Today.
Bratton, Michael, and Nicolas van de Walle. 1997. Democratic Experiments in Africa: Regime
Transitions in Comparative Perspective. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Brown, Hana. 2011. “Refugees, Rights, and Race: How Legal Status Shapes Liberian
Immigrants’ Relationship with the State.” Social Problems 58(1): 144–63.
Bureau of Democracy, Human Rights and Labor. 2014. “Liberia 2013 Human Rights
Report.” U.S. Department of State.
107(429): 515–39.
Du Toit, Andries. 1993. “The Micro-Politics of Paternalism: the Discourses of Manage-
ment and Resistance on South African Fruit and Wine Farms.” Journal of Southern
African Studies 19(2): 314–36.
Electoral Division. 2006. “Final report on the 2005 elections.” Monrovia: UNMIL, Elec-
toral division.
Executive Mansion. 2010. President Sirleaf Sends Entire Cabinet on Administrative Leave.
Government of the Republic of Liberia. Online: http://www.emansion.gov.lr/press.
php?news_id=1707 (accessed November 10, 2010).
Hardgrove, Abby V. 2012. Life after Guns: The Life Chances and Trajectories of Ex-Com-
batant and Other Post-War Youth in Monrovia, Liberia. Department of International
Development, University of Oxford.
Harris, David. 2006. “Liberia 2005: an unusual African post-conflict election.” Journal of
Modern African Studies 44(3): 375–95.
Hoffman, Danny. 2007. “The meaning of a militia: Understanding the civil defence forces
of Sierra Leone.” African Affairs 106(425): 639–62.
———. 2011. “VIOLENCE, JUST IN TIME: War and Work in Contemporary West
Africa.” Cultural Anthropology 26(1): 34–57.
Houreld, Katherine. 2005. “Weah fans take anti-fraud protest to US embassy.” November 15.
Online: http://www.redorbit.com/modules/news/display/?id=304968 (accessed January
27, 2009).
IRI. 2006. “Election Observation Mission Final Report.” Washington: The International
Republican Institute.
IRIN News. 2005a. “Liberia: Presidential hopefuls for 11 October polls.” IRIN News,
October 9. Online: http://www.irinnews.org/REport.aspx?ReportId=56643 (accessed
January 27, 2009).
IRIN News 2005b. “Liberia: Weah drops fraud allegations in interests of ‘genu-
ine peace’.” IRIN News, December 21. Online: http://www.irinnews.org/Report.
aspx?ReportId=57644 (accessed January 27, 2009).
Käihkö, Ilmari. 2012. “Big Man bargaining in African conflicts.” In African Conflicts
and Informal Power: Big Men and Networks, ed. M. Utas, pp. 181–204. London: Zed
Books.
Metsola, Lalli. 2010. “The Struggle Continues? The Spectre of Liberation, Memory Poli-
tics and ‘War Veterans’ in Namibia.” Development and Change 41(4): 589–613.
Moran, Mary. 2012. “Our Mothers Have Spoken: Synthezing Old and New Forms of Women’s
Political Authority in Liberia.” Journal of International Women’s Studies 13(4): 51–66.
Pennsylvania Press.
Mouffe, Chantal. 2000. “Politics and Passions: the Stakes of Democracy.” Ethical Perspec-
tives 7(2–3): 146–50.
NDI. 2007. “Observing Presidential and Legislative Elections in Liberia.” The National
Democratic Institute and the Carter Center.
Nussio, Enzo. 2012. “Emotional Legacies of War Among Former Colombian Paramilitar-
ies.” Peace & Conflict: Journal of Peace Psychology 18(4): 369–83.
O’Leary, Brendan, and John McGarry. 1996. The Politics of Antagonism: Understanding
Northern Ireland. Second edn. London: Athlone Press.
Office of the Prosecutor. 2007. “Prosecution’s Second Amended Indictment, Case No.
SCSL-03-01-PT.” Special Court for Sierra Leone.
Outreach and Public Affairs Office. 2012. “Charles Taylor Sentence to 50 Years in Prison.”
Special Court for Sierra Leone.
———. 2013a. “Appeals Chamber Upholds Charles Taylor’s Conviction, 50 Year Sen-
tence.” Special Court for Sierra Leone.
———. 2013b. “Charles Taylor Transferred to the UK for the Enforcement of his Sen-
tence.” Special Court for Sierra Leone.
Peters, Krijn. 2011. “Group Cohesion and Coercive Recruitment: Young Combatants and
the Revolutionary United Front of Sierra Leone.” In Child Soldiers: From Recruitment
to Reintegration, eds. A. Özerdem and S. Podder, pp. 76–90. Basingstoke: Palgrave
Macmillan.
Podder, Sukanya. 2012. “From Recruitment to Reintegration: Communities and Ex-
combatants in Post-Conflict Liberia.” International Peacekeeping 19(2): 186–202.
Reno, William. 2008. “Anti-corruption Efforts in Liberia: Are they Aimed at the Right
Targets?” International Peacekeeping 15(3): 387–404.
Roll, Kate C. 2013. “Arguing for Care: The Explosive Growth of Reintegration Pro-
grammes in Timor-Leste.” Paper presented at the Second Nordic Conference for
Development Research: ‘Knowing Development – Developing Knowledge?’, 14–15
November, Helsinki.
Schafer, Jessica. 2004. “The Use of Patriarchal Imagery in the Civil War in Mozambique
and its Implications for Reintegration of Child Soldiers.” In Children and Youth on the
Front Line: Ethnography, Armed Conflict and Displacement, eds. J. Boyden and J. de
Berry, pp. 87–104. New York: Berghahn Books.
Scott, James C. 1989. “Everyday Forms of Resistance.” Copenhagen Journal of Asian
Studies 4: 33–62.
Segal, Mady Wechsler. 1986. “The Military And the Family As Greedy Institutions.”
Armed Forces & Society 13(1): 9–38.
Söderström, Johanna. 2009. “Valerfarenheter bland f.d. kombattanter: En ny syn på
demokrati i Liberia?” Politica 41(3): 300–14.
———. 2010. “Ex-Combatants at the Polls: Exploring Focus Groups & Electoral Meaning.”
Anthropology Matters 12(1): 1–16.
———. 2013a. “The Political Consequences of Reintegration Programmes in Current
Peace-building: A Framework for Analysis.” Conflict, Security & Development 13(1):
87–116.
———. 2013b. “Second time around: Ex-combatants at the polls in Liberia.” The Journal
Truth and Reconciliation Commission – Republic of Liberia. 2009. “Consolidated Final
Report.” Monrovia. Volume II.
Turner, Brandon P. 2010. “John Stuart Mill and the Antagonistic Foundation of Liberal
Politics.” The Review of Politics 72(1): 25–53.
Utas, Mats. 2008. “Abject Heroes: Marginalised Youth, Modernity and Violent Pathways
of the Liberian Civil War.” In Years of Conflict: adolescence, political violence and
displacement, ed. J. Hart, pp. 111–38. New York and Oxford: Berghahn.
———, ed. 2012. African Conflicts and Informal Power: Big Men and Networks. London:
Zed Books.
———. 2013. Generals for good? Do-good generals and the structural endurance of
wartime networks. Online: http://matsutas.wordpress.com/2013/05/ (accessed August
2, 2013).
Vermeij, Lotte. 2011. “Socialization and Reintegration Challenges: A Case Study of the
Lord’s Resistance Army.” In Child Soldiers: From Recruitment to Reintegration, eds.
A. Özerdem and S. Podder, pp. 173–87. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan.
5 Tolerance of dissent1
Opposition, tolerance and dissent are important facets of democracy, yet most
societies face real challenges in realizing such principles, and this is especially true
for many African states, as well as being a severe challenge after war. Pluralism, or
the tolerance of others’ political stances, and more formalized, the existence and
toleration of a political opposition, have been placed front and center in Western
conceptualizations of democracy (see among others Dahl 1971; Schlemmer 1999;
Finkel et al. 1999, p. 205f; Bratton 2006, pp. 11–13). While these concepts are not
synonymous, they are intrinsically linked. Democracy demands respect for both
people and ideas equally; tolerating others as equal members of the polity also
entails tolerating their opinions and right to expression (Bohman 2003, p. 95).
A true democrat is said to tolerate a diversity of opinion, and accords the same
political rights to his/her friends and foes. However, this ideal is rarely fulfilled;
principles and practice often diverge, even for the average democrat (Sullivan
et al. 1982, p. 259; see also Sullivan and Transue 1999, pp. 633, 635; Weldon
2006, p. 337). In this chapter, the linkages and reasoning concerning these issues
are explored among ex-combatants in Liberia. How should one understand, and
evaluate, their hesitations concerning the embrace of an active opposition, and an
open public debate?
These issues become even more acute in relation to African politics. The
notion of multi-party politics has been said to sit uncomfortably in large parts of
Africa, resulting in weak opposition and dominant party structures (see among
others Lindberg 2004, p. 74; Höglund et al. 2009, p. 544). Schaffer’s investiga-
tion of how democracy is understood in Senegal at the mass level offers important
insights as to why this might be the case. Notably, consensus-seeking and con-
formist tendencies were esteemed, and disagreements were not openly displayed
(Schaffer 1998, pp. 43, 50, 57–60, 111). This pattern has been noted all across
Africa (Schlemmer 1999, p. 287; Dahl 1971, p. 143f; O’Brien 1999, p. 331). In
addition, these issues also have implications for democratization. While democra-
tization is a multifaceted process, the diffusion of democratic values and popular
legitimation of the political system are crucial components of democratization
(cf. Schedler 1998, p. 91; see also Linz and Stepan 1996, p. 15f; Inglehart 1988,
p. 1204). This chapter examines these aspects in particular, where the diffusion
of certain democratic values focuses on the tolerance of dissent among the
Tolerance of dissentâ•…115
ex-combatants and, in terms of the perceived legitimacy of the political system,
their view on the role of the opposition is examined. Thus the chapter explores
how they deal with dissent and criticism at the level of the individual as well as
at the level of the state.
Pluralism in Liberia
Before proceeding with the ex-combatants’ relation to dissent, a few things need
to be noted about the space for pluralism in Liberia today. The current fragmented
political party system in Liberia represents one of the challenges and possibilities
for democracy in Liberia. It breaks with the past of a dominant party structure,
which had little room for anything but a violent opposition or violent means of
dealing with the opposition (Höglund et al. 2009, p. 545; Dolo 1996, p. 12). As yet
the party system has not coalesced into something more tangible, nor something
less threatening for the Liberian populace. The party system in Liberia is today
characterized by multiple parties, such that no single party has a majority in the
House or Senate. During the elections in 2005, there were in total 30 registered
political parties, and 11 parties and seven independents were elected to the House,
and nine parties and three independents for the Senate.2 The president’s party,
the Unity Party, only received 13.3 percent of the seats in the Senate and 12.5
percent in the House (NEC 2005, p. 13). Whether this constitutes a fragmented
multi-party system as discussed by Dahl is an open question, but such a system is
said to decrease “the willingness to tolerate political conflict” (Dahl 1971, p. 122).
During the last election in 2011, fewer parties participated in the election and
fewer were also elected. Candidates from 16 political parties ran for president. In
the end the three largest parties carried 88.2 percent of the votes. The position of
the Unity Party was strengthened during this election, as they gained additional
seats in the Senate and the House of Representatives, and because two parties
merged with them. The Unity Party still does not have a majority in the Senate
nor the House of Representatives, even though they are the largest party in the
House, gaining 24 (33 percent) of the seats in 2011. Among the 15 newly-elected
Senators, four were from the Unity Party and four from the National Patriotic
Party, giving the Unity Party 36.7 percent of the Senate seats in total (Söderström
2013, p. 412; NEC 2011a, p. 5, 2011b).
Concerning the amount of political space available for dissent and opposition,
Liberia is yet to make substantial progress. While the Freedom House index has
shown a continued improvement from 2003, with a political rights score of six
and a civil liberties score of six, these scores improved in 2005 during the elec-
tion. The political rights score has since improved further and remains steady at
three (Freedom House 2009a, 2003, 2006, 2011a, 2013) (see Table 5.1). However,
with a more narrow focus on the freedom of expression, the picture is less posi-
tive. While Liberia has a long history of a national media, freedom of expression
was more extensive in the second half of the nineteenth century (the first laws
that restricted expression were introduced in 1916) than in the twentieth century,
during which it became increasingly circumscribed. The 1970s also represented a
116â•… Tolerance of dissent
Table 5.1â•‡ Freedom House values for Liberia
2003 2004 2005 2006 2007 2008 2009 2010 2011 2012 2013
Political rights â•‡6 â•‡6 â•‡5 â•‡4 â•‡3 â•‡3 â•‡3 â•‡3 â•‡3 â•‡3 â•‡3
Civil liberties â•‡6 â•‡6 â•‡4 â•‡4 â•‡4 â•‡4 â•‡4 â•‡4 â•‡4 â•‡4 â•‡4
Freedom of the press 79 75 73 64 65 65 63 61 59 60 56
Source: http://www.freedomhouse.org
period of heightened expressions of dissent in Liberia, with incidents such as the

Rice Riots of 1979, although legal repression did not change drastically during
this period. During the 1980s, threats, firebombs, bans, death threats, imprison-
ment without trial, and floggings of journalists were common (Burrowes 2004, p. 2).
Resistance and public dissent leading up to the war has been described as con-
sisting of mainly small-scale and uncoordinated events, often involving students,
faculty, journalists, lawyers or religious leaders. The risks and costs of a more
sustained and coordinated protest have been too great (Press 2009, pp. 6–13).
Freedom House has labeled the press in post-war Liberia as not free, with a score
of 65 during the year 2008 (on a scale from 0–100, 100 being the worst). Journalists
are subjugated to severe libel laws, judges abuse their power to punish journalists,
and intimidation of journalists is widespread (Freedom House 2009b). More recent
developments have indicated a slight improvement, categorizing Liberia as partly
free (score changed to 59) following the introduction of a freedom of information
law in 2010 (Freedom House 2011b) (see Table 5.1). The constitution, while grant-
ing the right to freedom of expression, conditions this right with the subordinate
clause: “being fully responsible for the abuse thereof” (Government of Liberia
1986, article 15). Yoder has also argued that order and stability have been more
entrenched than tolerance in Liberian political culture, resulting in public criticism
being seen as destructive and dishonest. Yoder gives examples of how political
disagreements in the case of Liberia have long been understood and seen as expres-
sions of self-interest, disruption and conspiracy, rather than as expressions of a
healthy political debate (Yoder 2003). It is in this context that attitudes and expres-
sions of dissent among ex-combatants need to be understood.
Ex-combatants and the public

Before a deeper discussion of how ex-combatants deal with tolerance, dissent and
how they view the opposition, the survey evidence from the Afrobarometer is exam-
ined. Using these data, absolute levels of certain attitudes are estimated and some
important differences between the ex-combatants and the general public, where
they exist, are indicated. Again, as the subsample of ex-combatants is fairly small,
the robustness of these findings is somewhat limited. While the ex-combatants often
exhibit similar attitudes as the general population, there are areas where they differ
significantly. In general, the ex-combatants seem to feel freer to express themselves.
For instance, the ex-combatants are significantly less worried about being careful
Table 5.2â•‡ Careful about what you say in politicsa
Q 46: In this country, how often do people have to be careful of what they say about
politics?
Never 12.1% (137) 24.4% (10)

Rarely 13.7% (156) 22.0% (9)
Often 22.4% (254) 19.5% (8)
Always 51.8% (589) 34.1% (14)
Total 100.0% (1,136) 100.0% (41)
Note
aâ•‡ Chi-square = 9.289, df = 3, p-value = 0.026. Number within parenthesis is n.
about what they say about politics, with 51.8 percent of the public claiming always
to be worried versus only 34.1 percent of the ex-combatants (see Table 5.2). In
contrast, there is no significant difference between ex-combatants and the general
public when it comes to how free they feel to say what they think: 75.0 percent of
the ex-combatants stated that they felt completely free to say what they think versus
64.5 percent of the general population. A question about feeling free to choose who
to vote for produced similar results: 92.7 percent of ex-combatants and 81.7 percent
of the public claimed to feel completely free (see Tables D.1 and D.2, Appendix D).
At the same time, the ex-combatants are worried about big politics, i.e. in terms
of how dissent should be dealt with by political parties and the political elite.
For instance, the Liberian ex-combatants were significantly more supportive of
a single-party state than the public in general, with 30.9 percent either approving
or strongly approving of the statement that “only one political party is allowed
to stand for election and hold office” compared to 15.8 percent of the public (see
Table 5.3). However, there was no significant difference between ex-combatants
and the public concerning the issue of whether political parties create division
and confusion, with 44.2 percent of the ex-combatants believing that to be the
Table 5.3â•‡ One political partya
Q 29: There are many ways to govern a country. Would you disapprove or approve of the
following alternatives?
(A) Only one political party is allowed to stand for election and hold office
Strongly disapprove 49.7% (568) 33.3% (14)

Disapprove 33.9% (388) 33.3% (14)
Neither approve nor disapprove 0.6% (7) 2.4% (1)
Approve 11.3% (129) 23.8% (10)
Strongly approve 4.5% (52) 7.1% (3)
Total 100.0% (1,144) 100.0% (42)
Note
aâ•‡ Chi-square =10.101, df = 4, p-value = 0.039. Number within parenthesis is n.
case, and 38.2 percent of the public. Only 19.1 percent of the ex-combatants felt
that opposition parties should regularly criticize government policies and actions,
compared to 26.9 percent of the public (see Tables D.3 and D.4, Appendix D).
Hence, while both groups feel having many political parties create confusion and
division, the ex-combatants seem to respond more vigorously to this challenge, by
wanting to limit the number of political parties more vehemently.
The ex-combatants are also more exposed to the risks of politics and violence
as seen in Chapter 3, where it became clear that the ex-combatants are more likely
to use violence in politics. In contrast, there is no significant difference between
ex-combatants and the public in terms of how much they fear becoming a victim
of violence or political intimidation during election campaigns, with 57.1 percent
of ex-combatants and 41.8 percent of the public stating a lot. Only 2.4 percent of
the ex-combatants compared to 11.4 percent of the public claimed to be not at all
in fear of this problem (see Table 5.4).
Interestingly, there was no significant difference between ex-combatants and
the public in terms of how likely politics and competition between parties are
believed to lead to violent conflict. Among the ex-combatants as many as half
claim that it often leads to violent conflict and 11.9 percent that it always does
so, compared to 33.4 percent and 20.4 percent respectively among the public (see
Table D.5, Appendix D). However, politics as such is only listed as the sixth most
important problem leading to violent conflicts in Liberia among the ex-combatants,
with land ownership, ethnic/tribal differences and economic issues topping
the list. The general public lists politics a little bit higher, in fourth place (see
Table D.6, Appendix D).
Looking only at this survey evidence, the position of the ex-combatants seems
somewhat contradictory: they feel personally free to express themselves, yet they
have a preference for limiting the expression of dissent at the national level. It is
also impossible to determine, for instance, the reasons for supporting a single-
party state solely based on these survey data. The focus group data on the other
hand can uncover how these attitudes fit together, revealing the context in which
these attitudes are held, how they interrelate and how they are voiced and under-
stood in the words of the ex-combatants themselves.
Table 5.4â•‡ Fear becoming a victim of political intimidationa
Q 47: During the election campaigns in this country, how much do you personally fear
becoming a victim of political intimidation or violence?
Not at all 11.4% (129) 2.4% (1)

A little bit 13.9% (157) 14.3% (6)
Somewhat 33.0% (373) 26.2% (11)
A lot 41.8% (473) 57.1% (24)
Total 100.0% (1,132) 100.0% (42)
Note
Failing their pluralist ideal?
Evaluating the ex-combatants’ adherence to pluralistic ideals will first require an
examination of what ideals they profess to have, and then study three areas where
these ideals may be played out:
1 how issues of dissent within the group itself were dealt with;
2 how they describe their own behavior in politics today; and
3 what they see as appropriate behavior at the national level, i.e. the role of the
opposition.
In order to explore these areas, the focus groups discussed issues such as democ-
racy definitions, as well as their own participation in politics, election experiences,
and politics in Liberia in general. These discussions highlighted their views on
dissent in various different contexts. Additional insights were obtained through
questions regarding whether disliked groups should have the same access to polit-
ical power and what role opposition parties should have. The interaction within
each group was also informative for the purposes of this chapter, and special atten-
tion was given to the flow of the conversation and differences in perspectives. The
groups were continually encouraged to express dissent or differing experiences,
although, of course, the participants were not asked to indicate agreement by a
show of hands.
Professed ideal
Several of the groups expressed a clear preference for freedom of speech, and most
of these groups identified this as the defining tenet of democracy. For instance,
Gina in group G2 noted: “Where there is no freedom of speech, there is no democ-
racy.” Though there were different conclusions as to whether Liberia could be
judged as a democracy based on this criterion, the possibility of expressing one’s
opinions, being respected in the process and engaging with others was valued by
most participants and groups (G1, G2, G3, G4, Y1, Y2, Y3, L2, F3 and U3). As
one participant in group L2 claimed: “I think every citizen in Liberia has a right
to channel their grievances.” However, group L2 also highlighted the importance
of taking responsibility for what is said in public. Shiloh in this group also noted
that demonstrations and protests were examples of an abuse of this right, and that
“you are liable for what you say. You have responsibility to say good things as
well”. While many saw freedom of speech as an important ideal, several groups
perceived limits to this freedom in Liberia; in some cases it was clear that they
spoke about actual obstacles (being jailed or threatened by the police) (G1, G2,
U3, F3, M1 and Y2), and in other cases it seemed to be more a question of self-
censure in anticipation of a reaction from the government (G4 and Cecil in Y1).
Some groups felt differently, and connected other ideals to democracy. For
instance, in group F1, one participant even criticized the view that free speech is
the defining aspect of democracy: “You know, people in Africa think that democ-
racy is just free speech, then when you go to the radio you should insult everybody
and say you are free, but I don’t think democracy is practiced in Liberia, all people
know is free speech.” For several groups, the ideal was more strongly linked to
having the will of the people reflected in government, and hence a greater focus
on electoral and representative issues. Similarly, one group (M3) had another
view of democracy, identifying the rotation of elites and the actual outcomes of
democracy as its defining traits.
However, in most groups the focus on responsibility for what is said publicly
is evident. This mirrors principles expressed in the Liberian constitution, wherein
the freedom of expression is limited through consigning responsibility not to
abuse such a right to the citizenry (Government of Liberia 1986, article 15). Some
ex-combatants were, however, consensus-orientated as well. The idea of reach-
ing a consensus, or eliminating differences of opinion, was also valued by them.
Notably this was described as “homogenizing the group” or “having one mind”
as a group (Gomer and George, G1, and Gabby, G2). One participant expressed
himself in the following manner: “we all share ideas, various ideas, to make
one. That’s one of the good things I see about democracy” (Curtis, Y1 and Y3).
Expressing disagreement was only seen as acceptable in the pursuit of finding one
final correct and appropriate position/answer.
This manner of expression seems to imply the preference of consensus over
dissent among some of the ex-combatants. However, it is difficult to evaluate
whether it differs from the ideal of a dissenting consensus as expressed by Sartori.
At its core, this ideal is a question of agreeing to disagree. Consensus in this
sense does not entail absolute agreement, one vision of the world. Rather than
being static, this concept is dynamic as it entails an “endless process of adjust-
ing many dissenting minds (and interests) into changing ‘coalitions’ of mutual
persuasion and reciprocal concessions” (Sartori 1997, pp. 63, 59). Neither does it
entail violent conflict, but rather dissent and respecting other viewpoints enough
to engage in a debate with them. Thus dissent lies somewhere between consensus
and conflict, underlining the peaceful nature of democracy while recognizing the
diversity so crucial to democracy (Sartori 1997, p. 63f; Bohman 2003, p. 94f; see
also Widmalm 2005, pp. 239f, 251; Rustow 1970, p. 363; Bader 1995, p. 230).
While parts of this reasoning are visible among the ex-combatants, the importance
of the endpoint of reaching an agreement and to think the same, seems to be more
strongly emphasized than a dissenting consensus would suggest.
Similarly, two groups clearly identified democracy as a collective enterprise,
with the notion of working together as one and the creation of unity strongly
connected to their understanding of democracy (M2 and Y3). For participants in
group Y3 this also involved putting common interests ahead of individual ones.
Group Y2 did not identify democracy with consensus principles, but did feel that
it was preferable to the majority principle.
Observed interaction
In terms of the observed behavior within each group, i.e. how they dealt with dif-
ferences of opinion, this revealed that most of them exhibited similar ideas and
opinions. Thus often dissent or alternative viewpoints had to be offered by the
moderator. Sometimes the ex-combatants could recognize the logic in such argu-
ments, but they would usually retain their own position regardless. They had no
problem disagreeing with the moderator or voicing criticism against the govern-
ment/authorities in the group, nor did it provoke an uncomfortable atmosphere
(U1, U3, M1, M2, M3, Y2, L2 and F3). While it seemed easier to express disa-
greement with the moderator, rather than within the groups themselves, those who
did offer somewhat differing points of view were usually those who had been
active in the conversation from the beginning (e.g. Kevin, L1, and Curtis, Y1).
In those instances when dissent was expressed in the groups, the other partici-
pants handled it well (L1, Y1, Y2, Y3, M3, F1 and F2). This was particularly true
for group Y3, where the participants often disagreed and conflict was evident, and
one participant even noted, when asked if he agreed, that “This is a democracy.
[…] I respect brother Adam’s view. […] I will disagree with my brother” (Alex,
Y3); and similarly when asked if he agreed: “… ah … well [short laugh] we must
respect his view, but it is HIS view” (Alex, Y3). While Alex’s comments may
seem like an expression of what he may have seen as politically correct attitudes,
the manner in which this was said seemed to reflect how he truly felt in that par-
ticular moment. These two, Alex and Adam, often expressed different opinions,
and while there were moments of frustration for both parties, both of them were
also very interested in keeping the dynamic of the group discussion positive and
constructive.
In comparison, group F3 also experienced several disagreements and, while it
never got out of hand, the atmosphere was at times uncomfortable and the person
disagreeing was subjugated to persuasion attempts and, when that failed, to mild
attempts at verbal intimidation. The topic that caused the most disagreement in the
groups was whether to include Mandingos in the national political community, in
the demos (this topic is discussed in Chapter 6). It is noteworthy that those who
professed Mandingos should not be included did so even on the rare occasions
when Mandingos were present in the group (only four groups contained any par-
ticipants with a Mandingo background, U2, F2, Y1 and F3). Remarkably, some
Mandingos themselves shared this view.
Several of the participants expressed enjoyment in participating in the round-
table discussion or workshop as the focus groups were often referred to. It is
possible that the culture of discussion expressed in these groups was much freer
and more relaxed than they were used to. However, viewed from the outside, it
was still somewhat authoritarian, as they tended to direct their responses to the
moderator rather than engaging in a conversation with each other (notably group
G4, but also U1). The failure to do so did not, however, hamper their ability to
react to previous statements. Not all groups behaved in this way, notably group Y2
had a very different style of conversation, which was much freer and less authori-
tarian. Similarly a few other groups had quite lively and engaged discussions (M1,
M2, M3, Y2, Y3, F1, F2, F3 and U3).
In the short questionnaire the focus groups filled out after the discussion
itself, 94.8 percent of the participants noted that they felt listened to during the
conversation. Similarly, 99.0 percent noted that they had enjoyed the conversation
(percentages exclude missing data). In total six persons did not experience the con-
versation as positively as the rest, notably five did not feel they had been listened
to, while one reported that he did not enjoy the discussion. These individuals were
socially isolated in their lives in general as well (tending to be single, living far
away from their families, and reporting problems in gaining social acceptance).
Anticipated behavior
Scrutinizing how the participants deal with dissent and the expression of dissent
in their own lives, one issue becomes very clear. As seen in Chapter 3, most of
them opt not to express dissent, especially in the form of protests or marches,
because of the problems they believe will follow (U1, U3, M1, M2, Y1, L2,
Y3, F1, F2 and F3). For instance, a participant in group M2 said that: “We don’t
believe in demonstration. What God wants will come to pass. Better to pray.”
Expressing dissent was intimately tied up with the risk of violence, and open
conflict (U1, U3, Y1, Y3, F2 and F3). This in turn was believed to make it more
difficult to integrate into society. The ex-combatants fear being stigmatized as
troublemakers, and therefore opt out of this form of political participation. One
participant expressed it thus: “You know, we as ex-combatants [having a bad
record due to the war], so we decided to leave politics, to live as patriotic citi-
zens” (Curtis, Y1). These findings also resonate with findings elsewhere (see e.g.
Jennings 2007, p. 212).
When faced with dissent in ordinary life, several expressed the need to make
the person concerned fall back in line, and that one way to achieve this is through
persuasion and settling the issue through the influence of elders in the community
(G1, G4 and L1). For example Kasper (L1) described it in the following man-
ner: “the elders usually come in and settle dispute among the entire youth here
[…] then any other misunderstanding the elders come together, they decide it and
bring peace. Usually, that’s what we been doing here.”
Some also expressed self-restraint in terms of publicly criticizing the gov-
ernment or other authorities, as this was seen as causing trouble and decreasing
the effectiveness of the government. George (G1) expressed it thus: “We can’t
say anything against the government now, because it is OUR government. […]
Whether it is good, whether it is bad, we accept it.” (G1). George’s acceptance
of those in office is commendable and perhaps needed in a democracy, but the
long-term effects of such a stance may be problematic. Similarly, Jeff in group
M1 said: “So we sit down even though nothing is fine.” And if they had to express
dissent, they were adamant about doing it in a diplomatic way, for instance talk-
ing on the radio (Chad, Y1), rather than taking it to the streets. However, some
felt more able to express dissent publicly (Y3, M3, U3 and F1), for instance: “We
have to reprimand these people through the media constantly, yeah” (Eric, F1);
and “Demonstrating on the street will cause problems. But putting yourselves
together, even contacting the media, or to meet one or two representatives, that
will be preferable.” (Michael, U3). However, many participants clearly expressed
criticism against the government and authorities in the focus groups themselves
(M1, Y2, Y3, F3 and U3).
A pattern seems to emerge where the divide between what is public and what
is private is relevant for the expression of dissent. Dissent and criticism are more
accepted and comfortable in the smaller social units, in private, but when it becomes
a public issue it becomes much more problematic to deal with. In the private set-
ting, it is also easier to express dissent in relation to someone who is not a member
of the group, whereas in relation to in-group members this is less prevalent.
Invisible opposition
Although some recognized the usefulness of having opposition parties, most
groups were critical of the idea. The issue raised a lot of strong opinions, and some
claimed that the multi-party system was one of the major problems in Liberia
today (Kevin, L1). It was clear that the role they envisioned for any opposition
party was not one of criticizing the ruling party. The reasons for this were several,
but mainly it was related to the confusion it could create (G1, G4, U1, M2, M3,
L1, L2 and Y3), and the danger it posed to society (G3, U1, L1, Y1, Y3, L2 and
F2). If anything, the ex-combatants felt the opposition should help the ruling party
in a constructive and less public fashion (M2, M3, Y1, Y3, L2, F1, F2 and F3). For
instance, Shiloh in L2 noted:
Other politicians feel that, if they lost the election, they have no business of
coming back to help. But for us, as a democratic state, whenever someone
win or not, you have the responsibility as a true patriot to contribute to the
state. Not just because your party lost […] whenever you lose, you should
work with the successful party and help the people.
(Shiloh, L2)
In particular, some wanted the opposition to stay in the country after the elections,
and work on carrying out their election promises (M1, M3, L2, F1 and F3). While
they realized that neither government funds nor personal funds could be used
for this, the participants suggested that the opposition use their contacts with the
international community and potential investors to improve the situation on the
ground in Liberia. Behaving in this way would also, according to them, establish
the opposition candidates as serious contenders in the next election. Some of the
participants in group F3 were also quite disappointed with presidential candidates
who had been offered ministerial positions or work within the government and
refused them.
Only a few groups expressed support for an opposition that criticized the
government openly. Participants in group M1 felt that voices that challenge the
government would help to make the government stronger. In group U3, the par-
ticipants felt that as the citizens have a harder time voicing criticism, the onus was
on the opposition to speak on behalf of the citizens instead. They also believed
that this would increase the efficiency of the current government:
but the criticism is sort of the right thing, because it puts the government
on their guard, and they will double their effort. No opposition there […] if
there is no one there, no supervision […] tomorrow I’m working, ‘cause I
know you will come and inspect my work, but if there is no supervisor, I will
not work. The opposition should criticize the government, keep them in line.
They only want to criticize when the government bad.
(Morris, U3)
The university students in group F1, however, were the most outspoken concern-
ing this issue. Indicative of their thoughts on this matter is the following comment:
“they are there to praise this government when this government do good, they are
there to slap the government on its back when it goes wrong” (Earl); and the fol-
lowing exchange is also instructive:
Moderator: Do you think it is important for the opposition parties to critique
the government?
Earl: Yes, that’s their job.
Individual 1: They tell government their mistakes –
Individual 2: – and they need to. It is very necessary.
Moderator: So, why is it necessary?
Earl: If you don’t have an opposition and …
[…]
Individual 1: the opposition is there to let the government know that it left
a piece of job undone, you need to do it. […] you have left
something undone and then the opposition serve as a watchman
on the government; tell them that oh, you left this behind. […] so
the opposition, it’s very necessary that the opposition continue
to, you know, chastise the government in different, different
dimensions every time, I think that is very necessary.
In addition, Earl felt that people in general only see the role of the opposition
negatively: “so an opposition is always painted black. Nothing about the opposi-
tion is always painted black, that’s how we consider it.” This group and U3 were
the only groups that envisaged such a conventional role for the opposition.
Decreasing the number of political parties was envisioned by several groups
(G3, G4, L1 and M2), although not everyone was clear about why they thought
that was better. However, some did recognize that it was useful to have at least
more than one party, enabling a shift of power at election time (G3). For oth-
ers, having fewer parties would allow more qualified people to obtain important
positions within the party and government, something that according to Kevin
in group L1 would increase the quality of democracy. In group M2 participants
envisioned competition during the election, but felt that the ideal number of par-
ties/presidential candidates participating was two, then the winner would be the
president and the loser could take on the role as his/her vice president. Kirby in
group L1 had difficulties understanding the need for more than twenty parties in
Liberia, when a country like the United States (which is so much bigger) only
needs two.
The issue of opposition and criticism at the national level was clearly linked
to fears of conflict and violence. Several participants made the link between criti-
cism/opposition and war:
For example, like George Weah, the way he was fighting for president, but
then he don’t carry the election. Maybe, when, he is somebody that like war,
he make all that tension to make war, because he not win.
(Brandon, G3)
Curtis retained his aversion to opposition and criticism even after hearing the
moderator’s arguments in favor of it:
Those criticisms brought a whole lot of noise, it brought whole lot of demon-
stration, it led people to death, it led some people to jail. So at this time, for
our past experience, I don’t think there is a need for us to still mind opposition
party criticism.
(Curtis, Y1)
Similarly, Hedwig in group F2 stated when asked if the opposition should criti-
cize: “No, they should not criticize the government, because we want peace.”
Their reasoning is understandable given their recent experiences of war. Fear of
conflict and an appreciation for efficiency and stability causes them to evaluate
political processes in a different light than an individual in a consolidated democ-
racy would; the conflict mode is still pervasive and causes them to reject this form
of pluralism and dissent. In contrast, the participants in group U3 recognized that
some degree of conflict is sometimes called for, but seemed to feel that this would
remain confined within government.
It is not uncommon in African politics to view opposition parties as lacking
in legitimacy and as potential troublemakers (Rakner and van de Walle 2007,
p. 14f, 2009). At the base of this is the recognition that the implied conflict related
to opposition parties is not only an ideational conflict, but an actual conflict
(O’Brien 1999, pp. 321–7; Schaffer 1998, p. 77; Karlström 1996, p. 494f). It may
also be the case that, if the prevailing mood of the nation is one of consensus, any
political actor who behaves differently, for example, by speaking out against the
government, may have trouble gaining the confidence and trust of fellow citizens
(see also Bleck and van de Walle 2011). Most of the ex-combatants were clearly
hesitant about a vocal opposition, and in part this can be traced back to their short-
term priorities of political stability. This emphasis on stability has been noted by
Yoder as well (2003). However, keeping quiet in public did not entail being a
bystander for the ex-combatants. Again, the divide between public and private,
visible and invisible, comes into play in the ex-combatants’ standpoint vis-à-vis
national politics and the role of the opposition. While avoiding violence was part
of the motivation for a silent opposition, notions of efficiency and the importance
of getting the job done influenced their desire for an opposition that actively helps
the government and attempts to carry out their election promises with the means
available to them. Debate in itself, however, was seen as in conflict with govern-
ment efficiency at the national level.
Conclusion: order before dissent

This chapter has examined the ex-combatants’ relationship with tolerance and
pluralism, at several different levels. The findings from the Afrobarometer indi-
cate that the ex-combatants appear to be less afraid of polarized politics and of
expressing dissent, yet they favor a more limited number of political parties and
role for the opposition, compared to the general public. If this was all the evi-
dence available, it would be easy to conclude that the ex-combatants are less than
democratic, but, as this examination has shown, fear of conflict and the pursuit of
stability are decisive in determining whether ex-combatants feel open dissent and
a conventional role for the opposition should be allowed. Comparing these results
with data from other African countries, it seems people in Liberia are overall less
inclined to question their leaders than are people in other parts of Africa, and
less in favor of multiple parties. However, this is not matched by a similar dis-
dain for free speech; instead, Liberia is much more similar to the other countries
here (Söderström 2011, pp. 1158, 1161). In this chapter it has become clear that
this contradiction may reflect the fact that tolerance, while valued in Liberia, is
crowded out by issues that are seen, in the context of the country’s recent experi-
ences of war, as more important, such as stability. Yoder, however, has shown that
the reliance and importance of stability and order may predate the war experience
(Yoder 2003). Open criticism has historically been seen as dangerous, and contin-
ues to be so in the minds of the ex-combatants. Preferences for an opposition that
actively helps the government make sense in such a context. Perhaps it is wise in
terms of furthering democratization and statebuilding at present for dissent not to
be tolerated.3 Simply put: Don’t rock the boat,4 is the dictum of the ex-combatants.
The literature on tolerance and pluralism may offer various benchmarks against
which one can evaluate the ex-combatants, but what is clear is that the ex-combatants’
own ideals and practice differ. This dissonance can be interpreted in several ways.
Concern related to such inconsistency has been expressed in other contexts as
well, such as in post-communist countries, but earlier research has also shown
that, while a disconnection between support for democratic values and political
tolerance is not uncommon in emerging democracies, it may not be that worri-
some (Guérin et al. 2004, pp. 371, 376f, 391). Indeed, the ex-combatants may
still be considered to be largely democrats, even if they fall short in this particular
area, especially as pluralism and freedom of expression are encompassed in their
ideals, even if practice may be lagging behind. In this context, it is reassuring that
the voting pattern in Liberia does not seem to have segmented into the dominant
party structure that characterizes other African countries (cf. Schlemmer 1999,
p. 283f). Also, while most ex-combatants gave priority to stability and efficiency,
this does not mean they were unaware or unsympathetic to tolerance and pluralism.
Indeed, several ideals can be held at the same time even if one is given prece-
dence. However, it may reflect a deeper discord in the ex-combatants’ relationship
with politics, a permanent dissonance. Determining whether this is the case or not
requires additional data collection in the future.
If the results from the different groups are scrutinized in more detail, it becomes
clear that some groups are more open to dissent and a customary view of opposi-
tion (Y2, M3, U3 and F1). Group Y2, U3 and F1 were also more consistent
in terms of the ideals expressed and indicated behavior. Four groups were clearly in
favor of an opposition that criticizes government and is generally more engaged
in politics (M1, M3, U3 and F1), while another four groups were more hesitant and
critical of a customary role for the opposition (G3, U1, L1 and Y3). Some groups
tended to be more cautious in general (U1, M2, L1, Y1 and F2). These differences
are not easily understood in relation to the group compositions. Thus, while there
are differences within the ex-combatant community here, the reasons for these
differences are more opaque. There might be a faction difference that is relevant,
where ex-MODEL combatants are more dissent orientated, whereas LURD and
GOL are more cautious. In fact, LURD and GOL were more heavily involved in
the war; perhaps it is this more extended experience with violence that tempers
their stance (cf. Blattman 2009). In terms of gender, both male and female groups
are as dissent orientated, with the males groups possibly somewhat less tolerant.
While no rural groups are as dissent orientated, both extremes are present among
the urban groups. While a higher level of education is often associated with a
higher degree of tolerance, this pattern is not clearly displayed here. While the
members of group F1 (mainly post-secondary education) were clear proponents
of tolerance and pluralism, as was group M3 (with a median of sixth grade educa-
tion), group F2, which had a much higher level of education (median: tenth grade)
was not. Similarly, group U3, with a low level of education, was quite positive
about opposition, whereas the high school group F3 was less so. Of course, it is
also possible that university education might have a different and more substantial
impact on tolerance levels than a high school degree. On the other hand, reinte-
gration program differences seem rather unimportant in explaining the variance
here, although ex-combatants who perceived an economic impact of their pro-
gram were somewhat more tolerant.
The analysis in this chapter has revealed a lack of adherence to the democratic
ideals as expressed by the ex-combatants. Despite ex-combatants’ expression of
pluralist ideals (e.g. the importance of freedom of expression), they have great dif-
ficulties applying them in practice in all three areas, a finding that was prevalent
in most groups. This mismatch between abstract ideals and concrete application
of democratic values is, as noted, not uncommon. In the case of Liberia, this dis-
sonance can, in part, be traced back to acknowledged differences between the
private and the public spheres. In the public sphere, other aspects such as respon-
sibility and efficiency become more important. It seems as if the participants
are still caught in what can be described as a conflict mode; the political context
in which they find themselves five years after the end of the war, is still inter-
preted through their war experience. Heightened threat perceptions are known to
increase intolerance, and particularly sociotropic threat, i.e. societal threat rather
than threat against specific individuals (see for instance Sullivan et al. 1982, pp.
251f, 261; Gibson 1998, p. 42, 2006, pp. 686, 695; Weldon 2006, p. 333; Guérin
et al. 2004, pp. 376, 378; see also Yoder 2003, p. 186; Bolten 2012, p. 497).
Given the ex-combatants’ background experience, it is not strange that fear of
violence and trouble is one of the reasons for their aversion to dissent and public
criticism. Indeed, politics is predicated on conflict, making tolerance and oppo-
sition demanding principles to abide by. Only when political conflict is devoid
of fear is tolerance a viable option. But when conflict implies threat, either to
fundamental principles of the regime involved or to actual physical security, tol-
erance is surpassed by other more important values. The ex-combatants in this
study gave priority to such issues as stability and efficiency, while an open public
debate and a vocal opposition were less than desirable. Relating back to the ques-
tion of political reintegration, this chapter has dealt with an additional dimension
of the content of the ex-combatants’ political voice: tolerance and pluralism. This
dimension of the ex-combatants’ relationship with politics can be termed toler-
ance of dissent, and here the ex-combatants as a whole are far away from the ideal
of a pluralist and tolerant view of politics.
Ultimately, this reflects a lack of faith in the process and institutions of democ-
racy in Liberia, in terms of dealing with the resolution of conflict and political
debate in a peaceful way. While the interviews were only conducted five years
after the peace agreement was signed, the war itself lasted well over a decade
(1989–2003), and followed more than two decades of political instability, and
prior to that almost three decades of one-man rule under William Tubman. As yet,
the rotation of the political elite through elections has not become institutionalized
in Liberia, which means one cannot rely on the system itself as a safeguard and
guarantee for a customary role for the opposition and respect from the govern-
ment for the rights of the opposition or the duration of mandates. Instead, this
places the responsibility for tempered politics on the moderation of the behavior
of each individual, something which is acutely felt among the ex-combatants.
The legacies of war and pre-war politics certainly have bearing on current poli-
tics; experiences that will be continually negotiated in relation to current political
practices. The particular experience of conflict as war seems to be an important
influence for the ex-combatants’ understanding of public dissent.
In a sense, politics in Liberia is still seen as fraught with dangers. In the short
term, subduing conflict and being careful about voicing opposition may be the
most sound, viable and responsible course of action. However, if this pattern per-
sists, it may have problematic repercussions. Holding one’s tongue for too long,
especially if serious disagreements and reasons for criticisms exist, could become
counterproductive.
Notes
1 While the data used in this chapter is more extensive, this chapter is very similar to a
recently published article: Söderström, Johanna. 2011. “Dissent and Opposition among
Ex-Combatants in Liberia.” Democratization 18(5): 1146–67. For more information
about the journal, see www.tandfonline.com.
2 In total, 11 parties are active in both the Senate and the House.
3 Not everyone agrees as to what should in reality be tolerated; Evan Durbin for instance
has noted that “the only ‘agreement about fundamentals’ which is necessary is the agree-
ment not to resort to force in the settlement of disputes,” (see Ponton 1976, p. 20).
Several others have also noted other limits (should non-democratic groups be toler-
ated?), and this conundrum has been termed the paradox of tolerance (Sullivan et al.
1982, p. 9). Hence, not all would state that full tolerance is indeed ideal, and that it might
even be detrimental to the realization of democracy (see Sullivan et al. 1982, pp. 5f,
253–64).
4 This is also an expression sometimes seen on road signs in Liberia.
References
Bader, Veit. 1995. “Citizenship and Exclusion - Radical Democracy, Community, and
Justice – or, What Is Wrong with Communitarianism.” Political Theory 23(2):
211–46.
Bleck, Jaimie, and Nicolas van de Walle. 2011. “Parties and issues in Francophone West
Africa: towards a theory of non-mobilization.” Democratization 18(5): 1125–45.
Bohman, James. 2003. “Reflexive public deliberation: Democracy and the limits of Plural-
ism.” Philosophy and Social Criticism 29(1): 85–105.
Bratton, Michael. 2006. “Poor People and Democratic Citizenship.” Afrobarometer Work-
ing Papers (56).
Africa World Press.
Dahl, Robert A. 1971. Polyarchy: Participation and Opposition. New Haven and London:
tice in Africa’s Oldest Republic - Liberia. Lanham: University Press of America.
Finkel, Steven E., Lee Sigelman, and Stan Humphries. 1999. “Democratic Values and
Political Tolerance.” In Measures of Political Attitudes, eds. J. P. Robinson, P. R. Shaver
and L. S. Wrightsman, pp. 203–96. San Diego: Academic Press.
Freedom House. 2003. Freedom in the World – Liberia. Online: http://www.freedomhouse.
org/inc/content/pubs/fiw/inc_country_detail.cfm?country=428&year=2003&page=0&
view=mof&pf (accessed January 19, 2010).
———. 2006. Freedom in the World – Liberia. Online: http://www.freedomhouse.org/inc/
———. 2009a. Freedom in the World – Liberia. Online: http://www.freedomhouse.org/
inc/content/pubs/fiw/inc_country_detail.cfm?country=7646&year=2009&page=0&vie
w=mof&pf (accessed January 19, 2010).
———. 2009b. Freedom of the Press – Liberia. Online: http://www.freedomhouse.org/
inc/content/pubs/pfs/inc_country_detail.cfm?country=7646&year=2009&page=16&vi
ew=mopf&pf (accessed January 22, 2010).
———. 2011a. Freedom in the World – Liberia. Online: http://www.freedomhouse.org/
report/freedom-world/2011/liberia#.UxWZHU2Ya70 (accessed March 4, 2014).
———. 2011b. Freedom of the Press – Liberia. Online: http://www.freedomhouse.org/
report/freedom-press/2011/liberia#.UxWbZE2Ya70 (accessed March 4, 2014).
———. 2013. Freedom in the World – Liberia. Online: http://www.freedomhouse.org/
report/freedom-world/2013/liberia#.UxWZUE2Ya70 (accessed March 4, 2014).
Gibson, James L. 1998. “Putting Up With Fellow Russians: An Analysis of Political Toler-
ance in the Fledgling Russian Democracy.” Political Research Quarterly 51(1): 36–68.
———. 2006. “Do Strong Group Identities Fuel Intolerance? Evidence From the South
African Case.” Political Psychology 27(5): 665–705.
Government of Liberia. 1986. “Constitution of the Republic of Liberia.”
Guérin, Daniel, François Petry, and Jean Crête. 2004. “Tolerance, protest and democratic
transition: Survey evidence from 13 post-communist countries.” European Journal of
Political Research 43(3): 371–95.
Höglund, Kristine, Anna K. Jarstad, and Mimmi Söderberg Kovacs. 2009. “The predica-
ment of elections in war-torn societies.” Democratization 16(3): 530–57.
Inglehart, Ronald. 1988. “The Renaissance of Political-Culture.” American Political Sci-
ence Review 82(4): 1203–30.
Karlström, Mikael. 1996. “Imagining democracy: Political Culture and Democratisation in
Buganda.” Africa 66(4): 485–505.
Lindberg, Staffan I. 2004. “The Democratic Qualities of Competitive Elections: Participa-
tion, Competition and Legitimacy in Africa.” Commonwealth & Comparative Politics
42(1): 61–105.
Linz, Juan, and Alfred Stepan. 1996. “Toward Consolidated Democracies.” Journal of
Democracy 7(2): 14–33.
NEC. 2005. “National Tally Center Results Report for the Election of the President, Vice-
President, Senate, and House of Representatives on 11 October 2005.” Monrovia:
National Elections Commission.
———. 2011a. “National Tally Center Results Report for the Presidential and Legislative
Elections on 11 October 2011.” Monrovia: National Elections Commission.
———. 2011b. “Winning Candidates Senate and House of Representatives (Legislative
Elections on 11 October 2011).” Monrovia: National Elections Commission.
O’Brien, Donal B. Cruise. 1999. “Does Democracy require an Opposition Party? Impli-
cations of some recent African Experience.” In The Awkward Embrace: One party
domination and democracy, eds. H. Giliomee and C. Simkins, pp. 319–36. Amsterdam
and Cape Town: Harwood Academic Publishers.
Ponton, Geoffrey. 1976. Political Opposition. London: The Politics Association.
Press, Robert M. 2009. “Candles in the Wind: Resisting Repression in Liberia (1979–2003).”
Rakner, Lise, and Nicolas van de Walle. 2007. “Opposition parties in Sub-Saharan Africa.”
Working Paper Series. Ithaca: Mario Einaudi Center for International Studies.
———. 2009. “Opposition Parties and Incumbent Presidents: The Dynamics of Electoral
Competition in Sub-Saharan Africa.” In Democratization by Elections: A New Mode of
Transition?, ed. S. I. Lindberg, Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press.
Rustow, Dankwart A. 1970. “Transitions to Democracy: Toward a Dynamic Model.” Com-
parative Politics 2(3): 337–63.
Sartori, Giovanni. 1997. “Understanding Pluralism.” Journal of Democracy 8(4): 58–69.
Schaffer, Fredric C. 1998. Democracy in Translation: understanding politics in an unfa-
miliar culture. Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press.
Schedler, Andreas. 1998. “What is Democratic Consolidation?” Journal of Democracy
9(2): 91–107.
Schlemmer, Lawrence. 1999. “Democracy or Democratic Hegemony: The Future of Politi-
cal Pluralism in South Africa.” In The Awkward Embrace: One-party domination and
Söderström, Johanna. 2011. “Dissent and Opposition among Ex-Combatants in Liberia.”
Democratization 18(5): 1146–67.
———. 2013. “Second time around: Ex-combatants at the polls in Liberia.” The Journal
Sullivan, John L., and John E. Transue. 1999. “The Psychological Underpinnings of
Democracy: A Selective Review of Research on Political Tolerance, Interpersonal
Trust, and Social Capital.” Annual Review of Psychology 50: 625–50.
Sullivan, John L., James Piereson, and George E. Marcus. 1982. Political Tolerance and
American Democracy. Chicago and London: The University of Chicago Press.
Weldon, Steven A. 2006. “The Institutional Context of Tolerance for Ethnic Minorities: A
Comparative, Multilevel Analysis of Western Europe.” American Journal of Political
Science 50(2): 331–49.
Widmalm, Sten. 2005. “Trust and Tolerance in India: Findings from Madhya Pradesh and
Kerala.” India Review 4(3–4): 233–57.
Yoder, John Charles. 2003. Popular political culture, civil society, and state crisis in Liberia.
Lewiston: Edwin Mellen Press.
6 Inclusion in the political
community
This chapter explores how the ex-combatants relate to equality and inclusion in
the political community. As such, the chapter looks at where the ex-combatants
draw the limits of their polity and their conceptions of citizenship. Thereby it
captures the degree to which equality and inclusivity are embraced as ideals in
politics. If the political community is narrowly defined, it is easier to grant those
included equal access to the political process, but it does not have to be indicative
of a democratic community. Thus, delineating who are seen as citizens in the first
place, and on the basis of what, is central to understanding the ex-combatants’
support for equality. The chapter therefore describes the final dimension of the
ex-combatants’ relationship with politics, namely the importance and degree of
inclusion in the polity as voiced by the ex-combatants.
The issue of citizenship is central to defining the relationship between state
and individual, between polity and its members. Hence questions concerning citi-
zenship are closely related to the notion of a demos, the political community of
a democracy. After civil war, questions about who is seen as a rightful and equal
member of the polity are often precarious and politicized. Indeed, often these
issues have been at the center of the conflict to begin with. There is a considerable
amount of research dealing with the challenges of post-war societal divisions,
specifically ethnically divided societies, in order to increase the possibilities of
successful peacebuilding. This issue is also clearly related to the stateness problem
referred to by Linz and Stepan: without a clear demos the creation and the stability
of the state is also in question (Linz and Stepan 1996a, 1996b, p. 24). The bulk of
this research, however, focuses on institutions, through different power sharing
and decision-making solutions (see e.g. Roeder and Rothchild 2005; Hartzell and
Hoddie 2007, p. 149; Jarstad 2008; Paris 2004; Lijphart 2004; Horowitz 1993;
Reilly 2001). However, as has been recognized by Roeder and Rothchild, these
very institutions threaten to make these divisions and polarizations permanent.
Thus, before such panaceas are prescribed, a better understanding of how identi-
ties are remolded during and after war is needed. This chapter contributes to such
discussions.
As discussed earlier, the war in Liberia was to some extent structured along dif-
ferent identities, and although no one joined a faction because of ethnicity alone,
different armed groups tended to cater to specific groups more than others, and
Inclusion in the political communityâ•…133
ethnic claims were used for mobilization (see e.g. Toure 2002; Bøås and Hatløy
2008; cf. Moran 2006). During the war and in the period leading up to it, ethnicity
became politicized beyond the earlier settler-native divide (Moran 2006). And, as
noted before, the Mandingos have generally been seen as less Liberian and more
like foreigners in Liberia (Bøås and Hatløy 2008, p. 47; Ellis 1995, p. 179; Levitt
2005, p. 19; Hill et al. 2008, p. 6; Yoder 2003, p. 190; Konneh 1996, p. 142).
This chapter explores how the ex-combatants envision the Liberian political
community (its demos) and Liberian citizenship. As ex-combatants they were
heavily involved in the war, and should have felt the full weight of politicized eth-
nicities and societal divisions. Where do they draw the boundaries of this demos?
Who is included and who is not, and on the basis of what? What ethnic labels still
carry political weight? In essence, what is the imagined political community of
the ex-combatants (cf. Anderson 2006)? As such, the chapter describes how the
principle of inclusion in politics is voiced by the ex-combatants.
While some would claim that notions of citizenship and identities are not
static but continually under negotiation (Jackson and Warren 2005, p. 565), some
research suggest that beliefs and values concerning ethnicity, nationality and citi-
zenship are at least more robust than other aspects of political culture, such as
tolerance, trust and efficacy (Almond 1990, p. 150; Bennich-Björkman 2007).
This chapter only discusses opinions concerning demos and citizenship at one
point in time, but the background of the war suggests that a lack of unity and
politicized ethnic boundaries are part of Liberian political culture.
This chapter begins with a section to contextualize the demos problem in
Liberia, in relation to the Liberian constitution, the war and specific groups which
have been seen as problematic in the past. This is followed by a theoretical discus-
sion concerning demos and citizenship principles. The next section returns to the
interviews with the ex-combatants, particularly focusing on principles of access to
Liberian citizenship, delineations of who is not seen as Liberian or less Liberian,
power implications and properties of those seen as Liberian, thereby exploring
the ex-combatants’ conceptualization of the demos. The inclusion of a section that
introduces Liberian history in relation to citizenship issues should not be seen as a
standard to which the ex-combatants should be held, nor that the interviews were
conducted to establish whether they know the “truth” about claims to citizenship
in Liberia. The chapter is about capturing their voices about how citizenship and
the demos are understood by them. The historical contextualization is simply that –
an attempt to contextualize the reasoning and arguments of the ex-combatants.
Contested and mobilizing boundaries in Liberia

Issues of ethnicity and citizenship have been politicized and problematic for
a long time in Liberia. For instance, the original constitution in Liberia stated
that “none but persons of color shall be admitted to citizenship in this republic”
(Government of Liberia 1847, section 13). This formulation was quite radical at
the time of its inception and was a reaction against racial hierarchies in the United
States (Burrowes 2004, p. 68). In addition, the right to citizenship was seen as:
134â•… Inclusion in the political community
a privilege earned through ‘responsible’ conduct as verified by three disinter-
ested citizens. A responsible citizen, defined by a law brought over from the
colonial period, was a homeowner who, over at least three years, had consistently
attended church services, dressed in Western clothes, and cultivated two acres.
(Burrowes 2004, p. 69)
The original constitution was amended a few times during the early twentieth
century, for instance to extend suffrage to women in 1945 and to all indigenous
groups in 1946 (Levitt 2005, p. 264f).1 The current constitution, which augured
the Second Republic in 1986, similarly states that “only persons who are Negroes
or of Negro descent shall qualify by birth or by naturalization to be citizens of
Liberia” (Government of Liberia 1986, article 27; see also Government of Liberia
1955, section 13). The race criterion, while discussed in the 1980s, was not
removed from the constitution in 1984, and is therefore still barring the Lebanese,
Indian, Pakistani and Syrian communities in Liberia from becoming citizens,
even though they have resided in Liberia for a long time (see also American Bar
Association’s Rule of Law Initiative 2009, p. 14).
A recent review of Liberian law as it pertains to citizenship noted a number of
incompatibilities. Naturalization, i.e. the acquirement of citizenship after birth, is
for instance possible for female spouses but not for male spouses to Liberian citi-
zens (given that they are of Negro descent). Hence only male Liberians can pass
their citizenship on to their children. If the father did not live in Liberia prior to the
birth of the child, they may also have difficulties acquiring citizenship (American
Bar Association’s Rule of Law Initiative 2009, pp. 14–15). Citizenship for natu-
ralized citizens can also be revoked, if the person does not reside in Liberia long
enough after naturalization. De facto this means that citizenship by birth and by
naturalization have different status in Liberian law (American Bar Association’s
Rule of Law Initiative 2009, p. 16).2
The indigenous groups make up the majority of Liberia’s estimated population
of 3.5 million. In total there are 16 ethnic groups in Liberia, which can be grouped
into three linguistic groups: Mel (Gola and Kissi), Kru (Belle, Bassa, Kru, Grebo,
Dey and Krahn) and Mande (Vai, Kpelle, Mandingo, Mende, Gbandi, Lorma,
Mano and Gio).3 The largest group is the Kpelle, constituting 20.3 percent of
the population, followed by the Bassa at 13.4 percent, whereas the Mandingos
only constitute 3.2 percent (Liberia Institute of Statistics and Geo-Information
Services (LISGIS) 2009, p. A4:87). The Americo-Liberians are often noted to
make up about somewhere between 2.5 and 5 percent of the population.4 Several
of these ethnic groups are also present in surrounding countries.
The Americo-Liberians are the settlers that were instrumental in the crea-
tion of the Liberian state. They consisted of either freed slaves from the United
States or captured slaves that were brought back to Africa and Liberia by the
American Colonization Society (ACS). In Liberia they are often referred to as
Congo or Congo-Congo people, a term seen as derisive by some. While the term
Congo originally only referred to the recaptives, today the term is used to denote
descendants of both the settlers and the recaptives. The Americo-Liberians have
been the political elite in Liberia since the creation of the state, and up until the
coup d’état in 1980 by Samuel Doe they were also in control of the state. Despite
this privileged position, they were not specifically targeted during the war.
The difference between the settler community and the indigenous groups in
Liberia is a dichotomy that has been stressed in Liberian political culture for a
long time. However, Moran also notes that ambiguity concerning the boundaries
of these two groups has been important in the history of Liberia. In particular,
this ambiguity has been enabled by stressing settler culture as one of being civi-
lized, rather than through focusing on lineage (Moran 2006, pp. 35, 72–5, 97).
In comparison, Yoder has stressed the importance of similarities between these
two communities (Yoder 2003; see also Ellis 2007, p. 192; for more on settler-
indigenous relations, see also Akpan 1973).
The ethnic group of Mandingos settled later than most groups in Liberia; the
first wave of Mandingos came most likely in the 1600s (Yoder 2003, p. 190). Thus
they were present when the American Colonization Society landed in Liberia and
created the Liberian state. They do not have a majority in any of the counties in
Liberia, and are often seen as different partly because of religious issues (they are
more often Muslim than Christian), but also because of superior business acu-
men (d’Azevedo 1994), and their historical involvement in the slave trade (Ellis
2007, p. 39). The Mandingos are, however, not the only group that is Muslim, as
around 12.2 percent are considered to be Muslims in Liberia (Liberia Institute of
Statistics and Geo-Information Services (LISGIS) 2009, p. A4:85). The Fullah
and the Fanti as Muslim communities are also often seen as outsiders in Liberia.
During the True Whig Party regime (1883–1980) Mandingos were positively
differentiated from other indigenous ethnic groups through the actions of the state
(see among others, Konneh 1996; Yoder 2003, p. 192), and Mandingos as well
as Krahns continued to be so during Samuel Doe’s regime in the 1980s. But it
was not until 1985 and onwards that differences between ethnic groups in Liberia
started to play a bigger role in politics, and eventually in conflict. Although Doe’s
regime was a rejection of the old settler regime, Moran argues that Doe resorted to
ethnic polarization, when he had failed to be seen as credible in his role as “civi-
lized” and after an attempted coup d’état against him. President Doe also declared
that the Mandingos were citizens, which was perceived by many as a naturaliza-
tion of the Mandingos (Moran 2006, pp. 16, 100). Historically, the Mandingo and
the Lebanese community have been seen as strangers and foreigners, often pitted
against each other (Ellis 2007, p. 216; see also Yoder 2003, p. 45), hence making
their inclusion in the Liberian demos the most questioned and worth investigating.
Indeed, these two groups are the least likely to be seen as included in the Liberian
demos. Governmental manipulation of ethnicity in Liberia has made it both a pow-
erful and shifting tool (see e.g. Ellis 2007, pp. 197, 216; Moran 2006, pp. 17, 139).
During the war things became even more polarized, especially in relation to the
Mandingos. The Charles Taylor regime beleaguered the Mandingos in particular,
and the composition of the different factions during the years of war also reflected
this polarization, notably LURD catered to Mandingos, as did the United Liberation
Movement of Liberia for Democracy–Kromah faction (ULIMO-K), often described
as a precursor to LURD.5 Although questions of ethnicity cannot explain the war or
faction composition, the issue of Liberian identity was at the heart of the war, partly
because such identities were used for mobilization and certainly played an impor-
tant rhetorical role (Bøås and Hatløy 2008, pp. 37, 41, 47; Toure 2002, p. 25; Hill
et al. 2008, p. 6; Ellis 2007, pp. 104f, 140). Moran also notes that there may have
been more conflict within ethnic groups, rather than between them (Moran 2006, p. 4).
Some argue that identities that have been at the focal point of a war are unlikely
to change fast, and will only do so when institutions have demonstrated that such
identities are safe (Hartzell and Hoddie 2007, p. 150). During the elections in 2005
there were accusations of Mandingos either not being allowed to register and vote,
or fraudulently coming in from neighboring countries to vote. Although such claims
have been exaggerated, Mandingos did make up a large part of Liberian refugees
and, as such, were disproportionately disenfranchised (ICG 2005, p. 3; Harris 2006,
p. 380). During these elections the issue of Mandingo citizenship was also a con-
tentious one (Akokpari and Azevedo 2007, p. 86; ICG 2005, p. 19). Similarly, to
Moran’s comments about the ambiguity between settler and indigenous bounda-
ries (Moran 2006, p. 97), the inclusion and exclusion of Mandingos, as well as the
Mandingo community’s own attitude toward involvement, has been described as a
“complex dance of identity” (Konneh 1996, p. 153; see also Reno 1998).
The Lebanese community is, as noted earlier, barred from citizenship in
Liberia. There was an influx of Lebanese immigrants to West Africa starting in
the late 1800s and early 1900s. Similarly to the Mandingos, the Lebanese are
often seen as outsiders, in part related to their successful and often self-contained
economic activities (Yoder 2003, pp. 190, 202–5).
In view of the war and experiences of politicized and divisive ethnicities over
the course of Liberian history, the perception and appreciation of a unified and
inclusive demos is unlikely, especially among the ex-combatants.
Inclusion and exclusion in demos

The word demos is constitutive of the word democracy, or the Greek word
dēmokratia. The Greek word dēmos means people, and kratos means power/rule,
creating the commonly known definition of democracy: “the rule of the people”
(Hansen 1989, p. 3). Thus the word demos refers to the group of people constitut-
ing the polity that constitutes a democracy. Hence the existence of a demos is a
prerequisite for democracy:
Democracy involves the sovereign self-determination of a people […]. It

requires a demos, a ‘we’ to which individual citizens feel they belong, in
whose deliberations they have a voice, and toward which they can accord-
ingly feel a sense of shared fate and solidarity.
(Cohen 1999, p. 246f)
It could thereby also be seen as a prerequisite for democratization. Rustow sees

a set demos, or national unity, as a prerequisite for democratization, even if he
recognizes that this is a difficult criterion to meet. More importantly, he also
argues that the degree to which it is met will also have long term consequences
for the development of that particular polity (Rustow 1970, pp. 350, 360–1).
A more reasonable approach seems to be to recognize that the delineation of
demos is done in parallel with the democratization process (Marx 2002, p. 104).
However, the delineation of the demos poses problems for any statebuilding
enterprise (Linz and Stepan 1996a, pp. 16–37). Through defining the demos,
inevitably who does not belong is also defined. If there is to be a we, then there
must also be a they. Exclusion is part and parcel of any principle of inclusion,
and therefore also of the concept of demos (Bader 1995, pp. 212, 221; Van
Gunsteren 1988, p. 731; Marx 2002, pp. 103, 125; Cohen 1999, pp. 249–50;
Horowitz 1993, p. 18).
If exclusion is inevitable, where is the line drawn? In the extreme form, the
demos should, according to Dahl, contain all those subject to the laws of the pol-
ity. However, such a principle is challenging, as it would include, for example,
children and transients (Dahl 1989, p. 115). In his final version of who should be
included in the demos, this includes all adults subject to the laws of the polity,
except transients and persons proved to be mentally defective. While he rec-
ognizes that drawing the line between children and adults, and transients and
permanent residents is problematic, he does not seem to do so in reference to
mental capacities (Dahl 1989, p. 129). Even within democratic theory there are
problems of delineation. And while it may be preferable that such limits are
determined democratically (Dahl 1989, p. 123), they rarely are (Cohen 1999,
p. 254; Bader 1995, p. 218; Horowitz 1993, p. 23), and were certainly not in the
case of Liberia. The modus operandi for this delineation is, at least formally, citi-
zenship. This is the basis on which membership in the demos is assigned. Having
citizenship means you are part of the demos, whereas not having citizenship
means you are excluded from the demos, calling for a closer look at citizenship
principles.
What possible principles of exclusion are there? Three basic principles for
access to citizenship are jus soli and jus sanguinis, which come into force at birth,
and thirdly naturalization, which can be actualized later in life. Jus soli implies
that those born in the country should be granted citizenship, whereas jus sanguinis
implies that citizenship is something that can be inherited, passed on from the par-
ents. Thus, even those not born inside the country, if their parents (or one parent)
had citizenship in that country, gain citizenship. Naturalization, however, implies
that one is granted citizenship later in life, after, for instance, a period of residence
in said country or marriage with a citizen of said country (Bader 1995, p. 214;
Safran 1997, p. 314). While most countries use different combinations of these
three principles, there are additional ones, such as in Israel, where jus sanguinis is
used in combination with a religious criterion, i.e. conversion to Judaism enables
access to citizenship (Safran 1997, p. 326). Similarly, in Liberia, these principles
are also disparately applied as noted earlier.
What makes inclusion so valuable? Being a part of demos, a citizen in a pol-
ity, also implies the right to participation in the decision process. Thus being a
citizen implies access to power, for instance through elections. This highlights
the political nature of these concepts, where both citizenship and being a member
of demos imply access to such political rights as voting. The term demos refers
to the group of individuals that have citizenship in a democratic state, whereas
citizenship can be granted within any type of state, democratic or otherwise. In
a sense, the demos can be seen as a theoretical construct, an ideal rarely fully
achieved. Nationality and ethnicity are, in this context, seen as social constructs,
and their potential overlap is not assumed one way or the other. For instance, one
can question the assumed dichotomy between nationality and ethnicity as Moran
does (Moran 2006, p. 75). Clearly, all of these concepts are loaded terms, and
their internal relations are often complex in theory and in practice. However, this
chapter describes how the ex-combatants themselves relate to these concepts, and
what interrelations they envision between these concepts.
Before proceeding to the findings from the focus groups, it may be worth
noting that, in the focus groups, seven participants had at least one parent that
was Mandingo: one in group U2, one in group F2, two in group Y1 (both of their
parents were Mandingo) and three in F3 (also both parents were Mandingo).
Most often, it became clear to the other participants when Mandingos were
present. In addition, no one claimed to have a parent that was Americo-Liberian
or Lebanese in any of the groups. The absence, and relative absence, of these
groups should have made it easier for the participants to express negative opin-
ions about them. Also, one fourth of the participants claimed a mixed ethnic
background.
“We the Liberians”

In the ensuing sections, the grounds upon which the ex-combatants grant access
to Liberian citizenship are specified. This is followed by a discussion of the limits
vis-à-vis particular ethnic groups and foreigners, and then by a discussion of the
qualities and descriptive characteristics of Liberians in the eyes of the ex-combatants.
Finally, this section will discuss the connection between being Liberian and gaining
access to the political system.
Principles of access
The ex-combatants tended to present a rather unified and hierarchical system of
access to citizenship. The internal hierarchy between these principles is based
on the groups that expressed support for several principles, and how they related
these principles to each other. The most important that trumped the others, for
most groups, was the jus sanguinis, particularly patrilineal, principle (G3, U1,
U2, U3, M2, M3, Y2, L2, Y3, F1 and F3). In second place, came jus soli, the
locality of your birth (G3, U1, U2, U3, M1, M2, Y1, Y3, L2, F1, F2 and F3),
and finally, in last place, was naturalization based on other criteria (G3, M1, M2,
M3, Y1, Y2, Y3, L2, F1, F2 and U3). While there were a few exceptions to this
internal hierarchy, most groups ranked the principles in this order. The transferal
of citizenship through your parents was mainly perceived on the father’s side.
If only the mother was Liberian, the groups either concluded that the child was
not Liberian or there was disagreement in the groups. This fits well with ear-
lier anthropological work in Liberia, as patrilineal descent is embraced in all
indigenous groups, and with the current legal framework in Liberia. The only
exception to this patrilineal principle was groups U3 and F3, who, especially
in relation to the Mandingo group, felt that matrilineal descent could transfer a
Liberian identity as well.6
While the issue of descent was important among the ex-combatants, the issue
of color was not prominent in their discussions of the Liberian polity. Thus, the
principle expressed in the constitution vis-à-vis “negro descent” was not avidly
embraced by the ex-combatants or even commented upon, except by a few groups
(U1, U2, U3, L2 and one person in M3) who clearly stated that white people
could not become citizens, and that negro descent as described in the constitu-
tion was important. While most groups simply did not speak specifically to this,
in group Y3 Adam clearly stated that “I always talk in the spiritual […] not the
physical. […] I think we need to get away from where you come from, your color.
That is not important.” Clearly, the moderator’s characteristics (a white European
female) might have tempered discussions on color. However, other topics sur-
faced in the groups that are likely to have been more contentious. Hence, it seems
more likely that the issue of descent, in particular negro descent, was not an issue
that spurred controversy or opinions as much as the discussion of specific groups
like the Mandingos or whether a Liberian father can impart his citizenship to his
children or not.
In relation to naturalization, several expressed the idea that becoming a citizen
was a matter of personal choice, particularly if you were born in Liberia by foreign
parents then you had to decide at 18 what citizenship you wanted (G2, Y3, F1 and F2).
For group F2, citizenship was clearly something transient, something that can
change easily, and Alex (Y3) said that “your fate can be determined by you”.
Naturalization was also deemed as possible, if you build your house in Liberia or
had children there (U1 and M2). For some groups, however, those that become
Liberian by paper, by naturalization, were not seen as equally Liberian as those
that are Liberian by birth, although they recognized them as citizens (Y3 and F1).
For them the issue of birth was more important, something which is also reflected
in Liberian law as noted earlier.
While several groups recognized the possibility of declaring your belonging
at the age of 18, some did not see it as possible to abandon your Liberian citizen-
ship later in life and become a full citizen of other countries (G3 and L1). Being
Liberian was thus in some ways seen as a familial trait; once born into a family,
that connection stays with you for the rest of your life. Thus Liberians in other
countries should have the right “to decide for Liberia, but not for the other country”
(Brandon, G3), and similarly:
So we consider them as Liberians by birth rights. Except they tell us … say

they are not Liberians now, we in America, we have naturalized ourselves
with America. But if we see them, and we all grow up together, we say they
are Liberians.
(Kevin, L1)
Ethnicity and membership

Most participants were very clear about the difference between ethnicity and
nationality. The two were seen as separate entities. Ethnic groups that live
both inside Liberia but also across the border, in Sierra Leone, Guinea or the
Ivory Coast were spoken of in some of the groups. Most of them were very
adamant about, for example, the Krahn in the Ivory Coast not being the same
as the Krahn in Liberia, so even though they recognized them as belonging to
the same ethnic group, they held on to the fact that they are different, they are
Ivorian (G2, G4, U1, U2, U3, Y1, Y2, L2, Y3, M3, F1, F2 and F3). Speaking
about the Ivorian Krahn, Gina in group G2 said: “We have a boundary with
them. They are not part of us.” While the integrity of the borders of Liberia is
physically not intact, conceptually the ex-combatants recognized and valued
that border. This highlights the view that distinctions between different forms
of membership are possible, and that multiple memberships are also seen as
possible.
Most of the participants were adamant about an inclusive demos, which
included Mandingos. While dissenting voices were encouraged, one might still
suspect that this was a product of the interview context, and a wish to conform to
what they thought was sought for. But if this was the case, the data still speaks to
an interesting finding, namely they perceive an inclusive demos as the prescrip-
tive norm. As to the extension of citizenship in Liberia to Mandingos, several
groups were inclusive in their conceptualization (G1, G4, U1, U2, M1, M2, Y1,
Y2, Y3 and F2). The question of inclusion was, however, not a clear-cut issue for
several of the groups, as they would add comments that moderated their inclusion
somewhat. For example, group Y3 felt that they were not true patriotic citizens (as
they would not support the Liberian national football team but rather the Guinean
one). For this group, this implied dual loyalties, and two competing emotional
bonds, similar to having dual citizenship, something they considered unconsti-
tutional. Group U1 and M2 saw the Mandingos as citizens, but not as Liberians.
Several of the groups also made a distinction between different Mandingos, those
that had lived in Liberia for a long time and made a life there, in contrast with
Mandingos originating from the surrounding countries that were only in Liberia
to make business (U1, U3, M1, M2, M3, Y1 and Y3).7 Such Mandingos were seen
as lacking an emotional bond with the Liberian polity.
Sometimes there were disagreements concerning the inclusion of Mandingos
in the demos among the focus groups (e.g. in groups Y2, Y3, M2, L2, U3, F2 and F3).
In group F3, where three of the participants had a Mandingo background, only
one of them spoke up in favor of Mandingo inclusion (Hakeem), and one spoke
adamantly against their inclusion (Hassan). Common arguments in favor of their
inclusion included that they are the 16th group of the 16 different ethnic groups
that make up Liberia, and if they were not included you would be one group short
(G2, Y2 and F3). For some in group F3, however, this was the only thing that
made them Liberian: “That is what make them citizen. That is all. But these peo-
ple are traders” (Hank, F3). His statement clearly underlines that their economic
attachment to the polity was seen as inadequate in itself to substantiate a claim to
citizenship.
Others mentioned that when the state of Liberia was created, the Mandingos
were already there, and that they helped create the state, hence they are Liberian
(M1, Y2, F1 and F3), and group F2 saw Doe’s act of naturalization as proof of their
“Liberianess.” In contrast with the inclusion argument that the Mandingos were
there in 1847, group U1 and some in F3 saw the Mandingos as originating from
somewhere else, and hence that they should live there instead and not in Liberia.
However, if they established a relationship with one of the other ethnic groups in
Liberia and built their house there, this would enhance their claim to membership
in the Liberian demos (U1, U3, M2, M3 and Y3). While they were hesitant about
including them, they had no problem allowing their children to marry a Mandingo
or live next door to them. Being supportive of marriage, which fits with the larger
narrative about the importance of emotional bonds, has also been noted elsewhere
concerning the Liberians. In addition, complaints about marriage norms among
the Mandingo being a “one-way street” where only Mandingo men marry non-
Mandingo women, but not the other way around have also been noted in previous
research (Konneh 1996, p. 145).
The Mandingo in group F3 who defended his status as a Liberian responded
to the idea that the Mandingos came from somewhere else, by noting that it was
the same for all the other ethnic groups in Liberia: “You go to the Kissi, they from
Guinea, the Loma … eh, no, it just that … the map was drawn was just some …
they all from somewhere else. Only the Mandingo, they say they are not from here”
(Hakeem). This group also discussed whether any names of places on the map
could be tied to the Mandingos (see also Yoder 2003, p. 193). Some also mentioned
the act of Doe in the 1980s, when he declared the Mandingos as citizens of Liberia,
as an indication that they were not truly Liberian to begin with (Y3 and F3):
During the day of Doe regime, Doe was executing people in this country, so
people were against HIM! [Someone: his own citizens.] The Mandingo peo-
ple were closer to him! That is why he told them: ‘my own people are against
me, you coming closer to me, I’ll make you to be citizens in this country.’
[…] That is what brought the war into this country, until now.
(Harvey, F3)
Group Y3 still professed to respect their views, and their right to vote, but also
said that a lot of people do not feel that Mandingos want to be citizens, and that
they only come for business. While the group said this, in the end they con-
cluded that they were citizens after all, agreeing with Adam who said: “We are all
Liberian.” However, comments made in group M3 are indicative of the hesitation
and unwillingness felt by several:
We have problems with Mandingos. […] They don’t want to be refugees,
they want to be real citizens. […] We are forced to allow them to be citizens.
If we don’t allow them, there will be war again.
(Vito, M3)
Vito’s statement clearly underlines the importance of this conflict for peace-
building in Liberia. They also suspected that some Mandingos had fraudulently
participated in the election, again highlighting the difference they made between
Liberian Mandingos and the “troublemakers” who are Mandingos from other
countries (M3). Similarly, in group F3, Hank believed the election in 2011 would
lead to a renewed influx of Mandingos.
Another group discussed was the Americo-Liberians.8 Most of the groups
readily agreed to them being Liberian (G2, G4, U1, M1, M2, M3, Y1, Y3, F1, F2
and F3). While group M1 ended in including them, it was not a clear-cut issue for
them. Several groups also lacked a consensus on the issue: only Yona in group Y2
included them, Barbra and Bess in group G4 did not. In other groups, the partici-
pants differentiated between different Americo-Liberians, for instance in group
M3 they felt that if they had a father from America they were not Liberian, and
similarly group F2 felt that if they had been born in America, they were American
and not Liberian. Thus, the principles of jus sanguinis and jus soli came into play
here as well, but in a rather complicated mix.
Those who included the Americo-Liberians in the Liberian demos supported
their argument by the fact that they had helped build Monrovia after the American
Colonization Society had brought them there, and had made the country independent
(U1, M1 and L2). Interestingly, several groups were also convinced that only slaves
who originated from Liberia were sent back to Liberia, and those who originated
from other areas were sent elsewhere, thus all the Americo-Liberians had always
been Liberian in their eyes (Shiloh, L2, M3, F1 and F3). However, they did recog-
nize some of the ulterior motives for sending the freed slaves back to Africa; namely
prevention of interracial marriages and the like, rather than the more humanitarian
purpose that the American Colonization Society proclaimed in more public forums
to be their motive (F1). While seeing them as Liberian, some would add that having
a relationship, such as being married, with one of the ethnic groups in Liberia would
solidify your “Liberianess”: “If I am a Congo man, I should have certain relation-
ship with some kind of ethnic group in Liberia to make me a Liberian” (Curtis, Y1).
Owning property was another way to manifest your membership. Participants in U3
made similar arguments in relation to the Mandingos.
While membership in specific ethnic groups was not a guarantee or a hin-
drance for being Liberian, some did see being part of at least one of the many
ethnic groups as a precondition for accessing the Liberian demos (Y1). Thus,
in many ways ethnos is not demos, specific ethnic groups or boundaries do not
overlap in neat ways with the conceived limits of the Liberian identity and citi-
zenship. The ex-combatants differentiate between groups on different sides of
the border, and specific ethnic groups in Liberia (e.g. Mandingos and Americo-
Liberians) are generally included in the demos. Based on the Afrobarometer data,
the ex-combatants and the public in general do not feel there is a tradeoff between
their nationality and their ethnicity; membership in one category does not detract
from membership in the other. In fact, a majority identifies equally with being
Liberian and their ethnic group (see Table 6.1). The ex-combatants also do not
report that their own ethnic group is discriminated against by the government to
any great extent, with 69.0 percent citing never (no statistically significant dif-
ferences with the public as a whole) (see Table 6.2).9 It is also clear that several
groups differentiated between different types of citizens (M1, M2, M3, Y1, Y3,
U1, U3, L2 and F2). This differentiation was produced, for instance, through
creating a dichotomy between naturalized citizens and real patriotic citizens, or
between first and second class citizens.
Finally, when asked if there are people in Liberia who are not Liberian, most
mentioned foreigners residing in Liberia, particularly the Lebanese community,
and nationals from the surrounding countries, such as Ghana, Nigeria and Sierra
Leone (Y1, L2, Y3, M3 and F1). In contrast with this, group U3 were adamant
about the Lebanese community being unrightfully denied citizenship, and saw this
exclusion as undemocratic. Referring to the local Lebanese community, Michael
Table 6.1â•‡ Nationality vs. ethnicitya
Q 83: Let us suppose that you had to choose between being a Liberian and being a [respondent’s
ethnic group]. Which of the following statements best expresses your feelings?
I feel only respondent ethnic group 2.8% (32) 2.3% (1)

I feel more respondent ethnic group than Liberian 7.4% (85) 14.0% (6)
I feel equally Liberian and respondent ethnic group 65.3% (752) 55.8% (24)
I feel more Liberian than respondent ethnic group 8.1% (93) 9.3% (4)
I feel only Liberian 16.5% (190) 18.6% (8)
Total 100.0% (1,152) 100.0% (43)b
Notes
ex-combatants.
Table 6.2â•‡ Ethnic group treated unfairlya
Q 82: How often are [respondent’s ethnic group] treated unfairly by the government?
Never 62.4% (681) 69.0% (29)

Sometimes 26.9% (293) 21.4% (9)
Often 4.0% (44) 2.4% (1)
Always 6.7% (73) 7.1% (3)
Total 100.0% (1,091) 100.0% (42)
Note
in group U3 said that they: “are people that were born here, we speaking undemo-
cratic. People were born here, naturalize themselves, they should have the right to
vote. […] People like Farah are citizens of this country!”.10 Similarly, in group F3
some were in favor of including the Lebanese and some argued against it, but they
all agreed that nationals from the surrounding countries were not Liberian citizens
and the same for Indians. Some saw the African nationals as bringing violence and
criminality to Liberia, and believed the immigration policies of Liberia needed
improvement and austerity (M2 and Y1).
The patriotic believer

While the above discussion has clarified certain aspects that grant access to
Liberian citizenship, here, some additional qualities that were linked to being
Liberian are discussed. Yet again it becomes clear how religious issues matter.
Being religious and believing in a God, no matter if you are Muslim or Christian,
is typical Liberian and often described in contrast to neighboring nationalities
(M2, L1, Y1 and Y3): “We the Liberians, we believe in God. […] You see, but we
know that Liberians, we get mind, free open mind, through God.” (Kirby, L1); “If
you’re not religious you can’t … you are not a true Liberian” (Curtis, Y1). Being
religious was also seen as a way of contributing to the progress of the nation. The
importance of religion and church-going has also been noted elsewhere to be of
importance in the creation of identities in Liberia (see e.g. Burrowes 2004, pp.
69f, 99; Utas 2005, p. 147).
Contributing to the progress of the nation was also seen as an important qual-
ity of being Liberian, or in their words being patriotic. The issue of being a good
citizen and what that entailed was discussed in some of the groups (Y1, Y2, Y3,
L2 and U3), and for the most part this was related to claims on the individual and
not claims on government; only two groups mentioned access to specific rights
in relation to this (Y2 and L2).11 The ex-combatants tend to emphasize the indi-
vidual’s responsibility toward the group, rather than the group’s responsibilities
to the individual (Y1, Y3, U3, F3 and L2). Contributing to society for some meant
doing things for other people. Being patriotic entailed proving your love for your
country, which could be achieved by serving the government, preferably through
the armed forces or the police (or even working as an undercover police officer).
But being patriotic also entailed leaving politics behind, avoiding conflict and
being peaceful, and thereby contribute to society. Their description of this
indicates the importance of serving the needs of the group to the detriment of the
individual. However, their understanding of politics is very much connected with
the experience of war:
I don’t want to see bloodshed or any other problem, so it will [be] necessary
that I leave politics and be fair to my brother. If the two of us have a can of
soft drink, we share that equally, so that he will be satisfied and I will be satis-
fied, so to that point, I take it as being patriotic citizen.
(Curtis, Y1)
Similarly:
Politics? You know we as ex-combatants, some of our fellow Liberians try

to give us bad record because what they felt in the past; so we decided as ex-
combatants to leave politics, to live as a patriotic citizens.
(Curtis, Y1)
Group Y2 also defined being a good citizen as someone who avoided conflict and
had the “country at heart” and does not destroy it. Interestingly, there seems to be
a potential conflict between the idea that a patriot fights for his/her country, but
that being a patriotic citizen also entails leaving politics aside and not engaging
in violence. This paradox was not recognized by the participants, but can be seen
as an expression of the difficulties ex-combatants have in defining their new role
in the post-war polity. It also reflects the tension between avoiding conflict and
seeking conflict and opposition that has surfaced in other chapters as well.
Being a patriot was clearly connected to caring about the welfare of Liberia.
Doing this could also entail standing for the truth and acting for the benefit of
everybody: “You cannot be a patriotic citizen and go against your people” (Adam,
Y3). The following exchange in group Y1 is instructive:
Moderator: Ok. Alright. What does it mean to be a citizen of Liberia? In what

way do you need to behave in order to be a citizen of Liberia?
Curtis: You need to behave the right way or … to see the progress of the
country, that alone makes you a Liberian.
Moderator: Do you work for the progress of the country?
Curtis: Yes of course! By joining the police, by joining the army, by joining
some religion, by going to church, playing part within the church.
[…] That alone makes you a patriotic Liberian.
Moderator: Ok, what do you say Chad? What does it mean to be a citizen?
Chad: To be a citizen like just what my brother was saying, you have to
take part; you got whole lot of activities […] If you a Liberian, you
have to be part of these ethnics groups, you go to church …
Moderator: You have to participate in your community …?
Chad: You got to take part and participate in those activities [inaudible]
Moderator: Ok. Are there any … do you have any rights as a citizen?
Curtis: Yes of course! As a citizen, you have the right, that anywhere
you see your missing property, under the law, you should have
it arrested, as a citizen of Liberia. And then under the law as a
citizen of Liberia, you are not to harm no one … but to take it to
the law. So if you a patriotic citizen of Liberia, if my brother does
me wrong, there is a need for me to go [to] the law and invite him
there, instead of fighting him or harming him. Anyone who fights
his or her brother, they are not a citizen of this nation, that’s my
understanding.
Moderator: Ok. So to be a citizen means to respect the rule of law?
Curtis: Thank you!
In this group, they viewed citizenship as something active, something that had to
be affirmed through involvement in society. Curtis comments about not fighting
your brother stands in stark contrast to their own experiences of the civil war, but
none of the members of this group excluded themselves from the Liberian demos
based on this. Similarly, groups L2, M3 and F3 felt that a good citizen abides by the
constitution and the laws of the land, pays taxes, and has generally good conduct.
In groups U3 and F3, having a “good character” was an important part of being a
good citizen. One person in group M3 noted that they needed “more education, if
not we will be bad citizens, because we are suffering. Bad citizens always causing
problems, those problems will be war and group fighting.” If you had managed to
live in the country at least 10–15 years without any problems, then you were seen
as a good citizen, no matter if you were born in the country or naturalized (M3).
In addition to patriotism and religion, some other aspects were also linked to
being Liberian. Language (particularly local languages) and the way one speaks
were also seen as important markers of your citizenship (L1, U3, Y1, Y2 and Y3).
Sharing a local language implied a Liberian identity, even if the persons them-
selves did not consider themselves Liberian (L1). Also, because a lot of people
lack passports or other certificates that prove their identity, language and dialects
are seen as instrumental in determining the difference between, for example, a
Mandingo from Liberia and one from Sierra Leone (Y1). In relation to this, Earl in
group F1 noted that the Americo-Liberians set themselves apart by the way they
speak: “They created a line of demarcation with our people on the ground. So, our
people consider them to be Congo because of the English that was coming from
their mouth.” Whether this refers to the style of English or English per se was not
clear during the interview. In group U3, however, not all agreed that language
was an important marker, in particular Michael, having spent some time in Sierra
Leone, felt that he had forgotten his Liberian English in favor of a more Creole
style of speaking. Interestingly, only one group mentioned the importance of liv-
ing in accordance with the national culture (including wearing African clothes),
and doing as your forefathers had done before you (M3).12
The issue of owning land and sharing in the wealth produced by the land
were also issues that defined who was seen as Liberian (G3, L1, Y3 and F1):
“Everybody should get part of the resources. Then we know we are Liberians”
(Kirby, L1). This was also linked to the idea that land was stolen from them by the
colonizers, by the Congo men. In group Y3 it was also important that individuals
expressed their loyalty and solidarity with the nation through building their house
in Liberia: “how can you be a patriotic citizen if you do not have a structure built
in Liberia?” (Alex). Investing and contributing to Liberia financially, and thereby
being personally affected by Liberia’s fate, was important to many of the ex-
combatants in affirming your bond with the polity. This led to the questioning of
top politicians in the country who have houses in America, such as Amos Sawyer:
“is he a patriotic citizen?” (Y3) – “He came to steal again!” (Adam, Y3). Their
questioning of Sawyer reflects the more general disappointment in Liberia with
Sawyer, especially as he was expected by many to be an exception to the rule of
corrupt politicians (see e.g. Yoder 2003, p. 346).
The right to decide

Finally, another aspect of belonging to the demos is the access to power which
such membership accords. While the right to vote was clearly accorded to Liberian
citizens, often this was not the only or first association when they were asked who
should decide in Liberia. References were instead made to God (M2 and Y1),
the legislative branch of government (G4, Y3 and M3), the President (G4, U1,
U2, M2, M3 and F3) or the international community (G1, U1, Y1, F2 and F3).
In one group they noted that they felt that it was better if the international com-
munity had the power to decide, as Liberians do not respect decisions made by
other Liberians (Y1). Similarly, in U1 the participants suggested that the Liberian
president shares power with other presidents, such as George W. Bush. In group
F3, the power of the international community was added as an afterthought, where
they were seen as an actor that can provide jobs and act as a watchdog on govern-
ment: “if government is going wrong, we just sit, and look. It depends on what
the international community will do, if they will take action against the govern-
ment. And that we will go by.” (Hassan). In group Y3, most agreed that parts of
the government should have the last say, but that the people should have the first
say. However, different people in that group argued in favor of different bodies
of government. Austen wanted the legislature (the House of Representatives) to
have the last say, and Alex after some thought came to think that it was the judici-
ary that should have the last say, as he saw the implementation of the law as the
final step of upholding the constitution. Thus, after some discussion, this group
decided that it was not the executive as first suggested that should have this role.
Similarly, group M3 first picked the President, but after some discussion they all
agreed except Vito, who believed the legislature should decide.
Clearly, for several groups, having one person in charge was important, for
some this was the President, but they also identified others, such as Charles Taylor
(L1) or the local commissioner (U2). Both groups U1 and U2 felt power should
be delegated to one person: “we have the head, we elect them to decide for our-
selves” (U1). But in group U2 they more clearly expressed the idea that one person
should be the leader since, if too many had power, they felt no one would take
responsibility and it would only result in confusion. For many, power was seen as
indivisible and as part of a hierarchical order. While several groups expressed that
the ultimate decision should lie elsewhere, rather than with the people of Liberia,
none of them wanted to remove the right to vote and participate in elections.
Many would also say that “We ourselves,” “We the Liberian people,” “everyÂ�
body should decide,” or Liberians should decide what happens in Liberia (G1,
G2, G3, G4, U1, U3, M1, M2, L1, L2, Y1, Y2, Y3, F1 and F3). In group F2, only
Hester felt that the Liberians themselves should decide, and then channel it to
the President. All participants clearly identified with this we, and some groups
were very clear about the fact that participation in the war as a combatant did
not diminish their membership in this category. Partly, this was seen as a better
solution than the above alternatives, as Liberians were more likely to make good
and sound decisions for Liberia. Liberians know Liberia better and can be held
accountable for their decisions in a way that outsiders cannot (G2, M1, M2, L2
and F1). Examples of comments include:
We ourselves have to settle our problems before different people come in. If
we do not have understanding among ourselves before different people hav-
ing to come, there will be no understanding among us.
(Gabby, G2)
What makes it good is that it allows the will of the people to prevail, and
when the will of the people prevails, it means that whoever go to the area
must take into consideration that the very people that put me there has the
same power to remove it.
(Earl, F1)
Exactly, if you make decision outside of Liberia and the Liberian civil soci-
ety, their members, all of the various groups in Liberia do not form part
of that decision-making process, that decision you made outside Liberia it
becomes […] [a] fiasco, because once the Liberians are not part of the deci-
sion-making process then where are we heading to? It reminds me of the […]
colonization of Liberia.
(Earl, F1)
In group M1, Jeff expressed that it was difficult to change things alone, and that
it required several people to enable such change: “one tree cannot make a forest”.
Similarly, group U3 felt that the citizens would make better decisions than higher levels
of government, as they know better what is good for themselves: “I’m a carpenter.
I know what I want as a carpenter. You will not tell me what I want. I know what is
good for me. […] It is the citizens that say, and decide for themselves.” (Morris, U3).
While most expressed this faith in the ability of the Liberian people to make
sound decisions, one person clearly disagreed with them. Adam (Y3) wanted the
religious leaders to be the ones to decide, as they channel God and would do what
God wants to have done. To him, this strategy would bring peace and harmony to
Liberia, as Liberians in general behave like the Devil. He felt that the citizens are
confused, and that often this confusion was created by the poverty they live in, i.e.
that their economic interests interfere with their better judgment. Instead, he felt
that the religious leaders are more likely to work in the interest of the people than
the government. While Adam expressed such ideas, somewhat inconsistently he
was also the only one who wanted individuals younger than 18 to be able to vote,
because he felt that it is their future that is at stake.
The right to vote was also clearly linked to the issue of citizenship, i.e. no citizen-
ship meant no right to vote (G4, U1, U2, U3, M1, M2, M3, Y2, Y3, L2, F1, F2 and F3).
It did not matter whether such individuals were totally disinterested and ignorant
about politics: if they could claim citizenship, the groups were steadfast in their
extension of the right to vote to such individuals. Some claimed instead that you
could educate people to vote, and campaign and try to convince people who they
should vote for, thereby improving the quality of the act of voting, but none would
remove the right altogether. Group M1 was however an exception to this, as they
felt that only those who know what they are voting for should be allowed to vote.
The right to vote was often seen as a legal concept, as something regulated
through law and the constitution. When asked to defend the reason for why only
people 18 years old or older should be allowed to vote, only such legal claims
were invoked and they would only on occasion offer a substantive argument for
why such delineations made sense. For instance, Yona (Y2) claimed that at 18 you
have enough experience to know what is good and what is bad. Similarly, Shiloh
(L2) expressed the idea that at 18 you have reached a stage of maturity where
you can tell right from wrong. As an example of this he explains that at 16 he
decided to join the war, which he would not have done had he been more mature.
Similarly, most in group Y3 argued that biologically, socially and economically it
is only at the age of 18 that you can make sound decisions and know what is good
for you. Thus, being a Liberian citizen and adult (18 or more)13 were the two basic
requirements for voting (U2, M1, M2, M3, L1, L2, Y1, Y2, Y3, F1, F2 and F3).
The groups were also very forthright about the equality of the vote; among
those with the right to vote, the idea that each person should only be allowed one
vote was very ingrained in the participants. When the moderator suggested that
more educated people for instance should be given more votes, based on their
knowledge and experience, in an attempt to play the devil’s advocate, they argued
against such solutions (G2, G3, G4, Y2, L2, M3 and F2).
The right to vote was also extended to include Mandingos to a higher degree
than the Mandingos were seen as proper members of the demos, reflecting the
fact that their idea of the political community is larger than their conception of
the nation. The following groups accorded Mandingos the right to vote: G2, G3,
G4, U1, U2, U3, M1, M3, L1, L2, Y1, Y2, Y3, F1 and F2. However, not all par-
ticipants in these groups extended the right to vote to Mandingos. One example
of how this distrust toward the Mandingos’ right to participate came through was
in groups M3 and F3, where they claimed that some Mandingos had come from
other countries in order to fraudulently participate in the election. Debates about
the position and belonging of Mandingos usually created an intense discussion,
where defenders of an inclusive demos were often the most vocal and expressive.
The exception is group F3 where both camps were very vocal, but where the
defenders of an inclusive demos were in the minority. This highlights the useful-
ness of focus groups; as they allow an assessment of the strength of opinions, but
it also shows how some individuals may be silenced in focus groups.
Conclusion: conditional inclusion and emotional bonds

This chapter has explored how the ex-combatants conceptualize the Liberian
demos. Given the background of the war and past politics in Liberia, the likelihood
of finding evidence of an inclusive view of the demos was low, particularly within
the ex-combatant community. Agreement on who is included in the body politic
is essential in a democratization process, as well as in the peacebuilding process.
Given such expectations, and the importance of such attitudes, the results of this
investigation are certainly very promising, even if they were only measured at
one point in time. Another caveat for such positive conclusions is the social desir-
ability bias that may have affected the groups. While this may have been the case,
at least the data indicates that they perceive an inclusive demos as the prescriptive
norm. Such a result is also encouraging. However, as several individuals and at
times entire groups did express more exclusionary opinions, the focus group set-
ting did not inhibit such sentiments from being expressed. Thus it seems more
reasonable to accept that the sentiments expressed in the groups were actually felt
by the participants and not the result of social pressure.
Prior research is also convincing in its depiction of politicized conceptions of
ethnicities and demos during the war in Liberia (Bøås and Hatløy 2008; Toure
2002; Ellis 1995; Levitt 2005). While caution is required, there does seem to have
been a shift, highlighting the politicized nature of these issues and, if nothing else,
their malleability, again similar to other descriptions of identity issues in Liberia
(Moran 2006; Ellis 2007). This is noteworthy, especially in the face of research
that indicates that it is unlikely for such identities to change (see e.g. Hartzell
and Hoddie 2007; Bennich-Björkman 2007; Almond 1990). Their malleability,
while encouraging, also requires greater concern for and attention to institutional
(both at the level of the regime and policies) as well as elite behavior, as these can
undermine or reinforce exclusionary tendencies in the population.
In relation to the Mandingos and the Americo-Liberians, the focus groups
were in general open to their inclusion in the Liberian demos, and by extension
accorded them voting rights. However, this was certainly not a universal opin-
ion and several groups exhibited internal disagreements concerning this. Thus,
to some extent, the term “divided society” (Reilly 2001, p. 4) can be applied to
the ex-combatants’ understandings of the Liberian demos, as ethnic differences in
part resonate as politically salient. Also, several of the groups tended to differen-
tiate between different Mandingos vis-à-vis their Liberian citizenship. Whether
one should understand this as an ability to differentiate ethnicity from nationality,
or as a way to smooth over their xenophobic opinions concerning Mandingos is
difficult to determine. It is hard to believe that there are that many non-Liberian
Mandingos in Liberia as such statements would imply, lending more credibility
to the latter interpretation. Thus, while the overall results would have to be seen
as positive, there are still areas of contention, posing peacebuilding challenges for
Liberia.
Summarizing the general findings, the groups tended to espouse all three prin-
ciples of citizenship (jus sanguinis, jus soli and naturalization). However, some of
these principles were seen as more fundamental, such as jus sanguinis. For many
of the groups, ethnos is not the same as demos. One possible reason for why this
might be the case is that the Liberian society is overly pluralistic; there is not one
minority but several. This means that every group is aware that they do not
constitute a majority on their own; Liberia does not have a majority ethnos.14 Also,
political differences do not completely replicate ethnic differences, as noted in the
introduction. This also relates to Moran’s description of multiple and overlapping
forms of organizational membership in the Liberian state, stressing ambiguity in
the construction of various Liberian identities (Moran 2006, pp. 31, 157).
When it comes to describing the ideal Liberian citizen, some traits were often
mentioned, for instance being religious or exhibiting patriotism, which included
serving the government, abiding by the law and avoiding conflict and politics. In
relation to the description of the patriotic citizen, a potential contradiction within
the ex-combatants’ view of themselves has become apparent. On the one hand
patriots should serve the government, particularly through participation in the
army, and on the other hand patriots should avoid conflict and adverse behavior
toward each other. This clash of ideals could reflect the ex-combatants trying to
justify their past and also demarcating a new place and role for themselves in
post-war Liberia. It is also clear, yet again, that caring for the collective and con-
tributing to the community as a whole is an important element of what it means to
be a citizen in Liberia for many ex-combatants. Every citizen has a responsibility
toward the greater community.
Another element that in various ways came up in relation to questions about
the demos is a hierarchical understanding of power, as well as the importance
of emotive and family connotations of how membership in the Liberian demos
are understood among the ex-combatants. Here, this is particularly evident in the
following groups: U1, U3, M2, M3, Y1, Y3 and L1. In terms of the link between
membership and influence in the polity, the groups clearly identified the Liberian
people as the origin of power in Liberia, but most envisioned a delegation of
power to various government bodies (differentiation between voting and decid-
ing), although some also indicated the international community and God as the
loci of power. Thus, while the ex-combatants clearly saw themselves as part of the
Liberian demos, there are hierarchical aspects to their construction of the Liberian
polity. Hence, their democratic preferences for the structure of the polity coexist
with hierarchical preferences.
In the discussions concerning who is and is not Liberian, several participants
expressed the notion that one needs to be emotionally invested in Liberia in order
for their membership to be credible. This echoes sentiments expressed in Chapter
4 where the relationship with political leaders also had undertones of this (see
also a discussion of the Lebanese community by Yoder 2003, p. 205, which also
underscores the importance of emotional bonds). This was noticeable concerning
the Mandingos, the Americo-Liberians and top politicians in general, who were
evaluated against whether they showed enough of such an emotive investment in
the Liberian polity in order to achieve the status of a “true Liberian.” The idea that
many are only there for business and have their main assets outside of Liberia was
common and undermined their claim as Liberians. The notion of being first, or
having shaped the development of the Liberian state was also important in assess-
ing some group’s “Liberianess,” which resonates with findings elsewhere (Yoder
2003, p. 50; Moran 2006, p. 68f).
As already indicated, not all groups were equally inclusive. The following
groups tended to be less inclusive: M2, M3, L2 and U1, whereas the following
groups were the most inclusive: U3, Y2, Y3, and F3. Locality does not seem to
be related to these attitudes, although the urban groups included the more extreme
opinions, both the most inclusive and the least inclusive. Trying to discern whether
the ethnic composition of the groups is related to this is more difficult, but it does
not seem as if the homogenous groups differed substantially from the groups that
contained a mix of ethnic groups. In terms of the groups that contained Mandingos
(U2, Y1, F2 and F3), all types of attitudes concerning inclusion are found. For
instance, having a Mandingo present in the group (whose presence was known to
the others) did not stop other participants from voicing exclusionary attitudes, such
as in the case of group F3. Indeed one of those voicing opinions against Mandingos
was a Mandingo himself. More importantly, however, the other groups were not
constrained in the same fashion, lending more reliability to the positive results in
those groups. In terms of gender, the female ex-combatants tended to be a little
more inclusive than their male counterparts.
In relation to the different reintegration programs, the programs that involved
and encouraged social interaction across groups (between ethnic groups, factions,
but also between ex-combatants and non-combatants) also dominate the more inclu-
sive groups. The programs involving formal education did bring the participants
into contact with other groups, but often carried with them some stigmatization as
well, as they were often exposed as ex-combatants during registration for instance.
The MVTC groups fall in the more exclusionary range, mirroring their general
program experience of feeling excluded from decision-making and society. If
the ex-combatants are contrasted with the general public instead, there were few
notable differences between the ex-combatant community and the population as a
whole based on the survey items available in the Afrobarometer data.
The issue of the demos and citizenship was an issue that clearly engaged the
participants, especially as opinions concerning this varied a lot. In relation to
this particular theme, it was more obvious that the focus groups allowed the par-
ticipants to confront and refine their different arguments. In addition, the focus
groups also enabled the participants to redefine their opinions; simply put, to
change their mind. They could try out an answer and, through joint discussions,
realize that their initial thought was not quite what they wanted to say or how they
felt. This is not possible with survey work and speaks to one of the peculiarities
and advantages of focus groups.
The ex-combatants envision a rather inclusive demos, although this is not uni-
versal and without pitfalls. The ex-combatants clearly see themselves as part of
the Liberian demos, a demos defined by qualities such as patriotism, religiousness
and societal responsibility. In terms of the link between membership in the polity
and power in the polity, many distinguish between the power to elect (given to
the people) and the ultimate power to decide (delegated to bodies of government),
envisioning a hierarchical power structure. Again, the theme of the ex-combatants
as carriers of the Liberian nation, and of shouldering responsibility for the devel-
opment of Liberia and politics in Liberia, emerges.
This chapter has highlighted one central aspect of democratic ideals, namely
the level of inclusion among the ex-combatants. The contrast between the ex-
combatants’ values and this particular ideal enables an assessment of the democratic
quality of the ex-combatants’ political voice. While the ex-combatants recognize
and to some extent support notions of equality and an inclusive demos, this chapter
has also shown how many aspects of their understanding of demos and divisions
of power within the polity are related to hierarchical and emotional norms instead,
thus diverging from the democratic ideal.
Notes
â•‡ 1 Some note, however, that suffrage for women was only extended in 1946 (see e.g.
Fuest 2008, p. 207). By 1955 the constitution noted that both men and women aged
21 with real estate were accorded citizen rights, and that paying hut tax was enough to
give evidence of owning real estate (Government of Liberia 1955, article 1, section 11).
Yet Moran notes that “indigenous people were not fully enfranchised until the 1960s”
(Moran 2006, p. 4). Other accounts note that, while indigenous groups were recognized
as citizens as early as 1904, they were barred from serving in the military and govern-
ment until the 1970s (Vinck et al. 2011, p. 9).
â•‡ 2 At the time of their review, the Liberian law did not include any provisions for the
naturalization of adopted children.
â•‡ 3 Spelling is not always standard in terms of these groups, nor is the division into 16
groups absolute or unambiguous (see also Ellis 2007, p. 34).
â•‡ 4 Verifying the size of this community is however very difficult. The census of 2008
did not specifically record the size of the Americo-Liberians, but it is possible that
the group other Liberian may indicate the size of this group, in which case it is much
smaller than previous accounts (1.4 percent). Other groups noted in the census were the
Sapo (1.2 percent), other African (1.4 percent) and non African (0.1 percent).
â•‡ 5 Most work that attempt to trace the origins of the various factions would lean towards
seeing ULIMO-K as a precursor to LURD (Levitt 2005, p. 218; Jaye 2002, p. 13;
Dennis 2006, pp. 3, 14; Bøås 2005, p. 82; Bøås and Hatløy 2008, pp. 40, 44, 54;
Toure 2002, p. 25; Reno 2007, p. 73). The connection between the groups however is
not straightforward, and one can conceptualize these linkages in several ways: Were
the leaders of LURD involved in the leadership of the Kromah or Johnson faction of
ULIMO? Do the LURD combatants mainly originate from ULIMO-K or ULIMO-J?
Did LURD recruit new combatants in a similar pattern, for example, targeting the same
ethnic groups, as did ULIMO-K or ULIMO-J? Did LURD share a similar political
agenda with ULIMO-K or ULIMO-J? The answer to these questions may of course
not be the same across the board, and previous work on this is not always specific as
to what they claim here. This particular case demonstrates the difficulties one might
encounter when trying to determine the origins of specific factions, or in describing the
genesis of a specific armed group.
â•‡ 6 This may just be an expression of the fact that most felt that a Liberian identity was the
primary identity, displacing claims from other identities no matter what.
â•‡ 7 Comparing Mandingos to the rest of the public, using the Afrobarometer data, they
feel significantly less influential in politics compared to the public (66.6 percent
answered less or much less, compared to 40.0 percent among the public), and signifi-
cantly more often treated unfairly by the government (16.7 percent answered always
compared to 6.5 percent among the public). They do not, however, note any more
economic discrimination in comparison to the general public, nor do they identify
more with their ethnic group in general than the population at large. See Tables E.1 to
E.4, Appendix E.
â•‡ 8 While the issue of Americo-Liberians’ place in the Liberian demos is less contentious,
some have still noted that they have not been considered “real citizens of Liberia”
(Konneh 1996, p. 142).
â•‡ 9 Also, the ex-combatants do not report feelings of discrimination (economic or political)
in relation to their own ethnic group to any greater extent than the public. See Table E.5
and E.6 in Appendix E.
10 It is worth noting, however, that in Kakata (where this interview took place) there is
a prominent Lebanese family known to be integrated into the community, actively
contributing to the community, and seen as Liberian by the community at large (Yoder
2003, p. 210).
11 The rights included, for example, the right to participate, the right to life, the right to
education and freedom of speech and of movement.
12 The lack of attention to African clothing, for instance, has been noted elsewhere as well.
Rowlands suggests that this is related to the aspiration of being civilized and taking on
the legacy and culture of the settlers in Liberia (Rowlands 2008, p. 145). In contrast, the
emphasis on language, particularly English, and religious membership, has been noted
as central markers of Liberian nationalism and settler culture (Moran 2006, p. 78).
13 Group M1, however, claimed that 16 was the legal age, group U1 that it was 15.
14 Arguments have been made that suggest that ethnic fractionalization has an inverted
u-shaped relationship with conflict, i.e. the risk of conflict lessens for societies with very
low or very high fractionalization. Recent findings, while not conclusive, do not indicate
any significant relationships between ethnic fractionalization and conflict. For more on
this, see among others: Esteban and Ray 2008, p. 164; Hegre and Sambanis 2006; Elbadawi
and Sambanis 2000; Sambanis 2001, p. 260; Forsberg 2008, p. 285; Fearon and Laitin 2003.
References
Akokpari, John, and Elisabete Azevedo. 2007. “Post-Conflict Elections in Africa: Liberia
and Guinea-Bissau in Comparative Perspective.” African Journal of International
Affairs 10(1&2): 73–92.
Akpan, M. B. 1973. “Black Imperialism - Americo-Liberian Rule over African Peoples
of Liberia, 1841–1964.” Canadian Journal of African Studies-Revue Canadienne Des
Etudes Africaines 7(2): 217–36.
American Bar Association’s Rule of Law Initiative. 2009. “Analysis of the Aliens and
Nationality Law of the Republic of Liberia.” Washington, DC: American Bar Association.
Anderson, Benedict. 2006. Imagined Communities: Reflections on the origin and spread of
nationalism. Revised edn. London: Verso.
Bader, Veit. 1995. “Citizenship and Exclusion - Radical Democracy, Community, and
Justice – or, What Is Wrong with Communitarianism.” Political Theory 23(2): 211–46.
Bennich-Björkman, Li. 2007. “Civic Commitment, Political Culture and the Estonian
Inter-War Generation.” Nationalities Papers 35(1): 1–21.
Bøås, Morten. 2005. “The liberian civil war: new war/old war?” Global Society 19(1): 73–88.
Bøås, Morten, and Anne Hatløy. 2008. “‘Getting in, getting out’: militia membership and pros-
pects for re-integration in post-war Liberia.” Journal of Modern African Studies 46(1): 33–55.
Africa World Press.
Cohen, Jean L. 1999. “Changing Paradigms of Citizenship and the Exclusiveness of the
Demos.” International Sociology 14(3): 245–68.
d’Azevedo, Warren L. 1994. “Phantoms of the Hinterland: The ‘Mandingo’ Presence In
Early Liberian Accounts.” Liberian Studies Journal XIX(2): 197–242.
Dahl, Robert A. 1989. Democracy and Its Critics. New Haven and London: Yale University Press.
Dennis, Peter. 2006. “A Brief History of Liberia.” International Center for Transitional Jus-
tice. Online: http://ictj.org/sites/default/files/ICTJ-Liberia-Brief-History-2006-English.
pdf (accessed November 28, 2013).
Elbadawi, Ibrahim, and Nicholas Sambanis. 2000. “Why are there so many civil wars in Africa?
Understanding and preventing violent conflict.” Journal of African Economies 9(3): 244–69.
Ellis, Stephen. 1995. “Liberia 1989–1994: A Study of Ethnic and Spiritual Violence.” African
Affairs 94(375): 16–97.
———. 2007. The Mask of Anarchy. The Destruction of Liberia and the Religious Dimension
of an African Civil War. Second edn. New York: New York University Press.
Esteban, Joan, and Debraj Ray. 2008. “Polarization, fractionalization and conflict.” Journal
of Peace Research 45(2): 163–82.
Fearon, James D., and David D. Laitin. 2003. “Ethnicity, insurgency, and civil war.” American
Political Science Review 97(1): 75–90.
Forsberg, Erika. 2008. “Polarization and ethnic conflict in a widened strategic setting.”
Government of Liberia. 1847. “Constitution of 1847.”
———. 1955. “Liberian Constitution of 1847 (as amended through May, 1955).”
———. 1986. “Constitution of the Republic of Liberia.”
Hansen, Mogens Herman. 1989. Was Athens a Democracy? Popular Rule, Liberty and
Equality in Ancient and Modern Political Thought. Copenhagen: Royal Danish Acad-
emy of Sciences and Letters.
Hartzell, Caroline A., and Matthew Hoddie. 2007. Crafting peace: power-sharing institu-
tions and the negotiated settlement of civil wars. University Park: Pennsylvania State
University Press.
Hegre, Håvard, and Nicholas Sambanis. 2006. “Sensitivity analysis of empirical results on
civil war onset.” Journal of Conflict Resolution 50(4): 508–35.
Institute of Peace (USIP). Special Report No. 211.
Horowitz, Donald L. 1993. “The Challenge of Ethnic Conflict: Democracy in Divided
Societies.” Journal of Democracy 4(4): 18–38.
ICG. 2005. “Liberia’s Elections: Necessary but not Sufficient.” Africa Report. Dakar/Brus-
sels: International Crisis Group. No. 98.
Jackson, Jean E., and Kay B. Warren. 2005. “Indigenous Movements in Latin America, 1992–2004:
Controversies, Ironies, New Directions.” Annual Review of Anthropology 34: 549–73.
Jarstad, Anna K. 2008. “Power sharing: former enemies in joint government.” In From War
to Democracy: Dilemmas of Peacebuilding, eds. A. K. Jarstad and T. D. Sisk, pp.
105–33. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Jaye, Thomas. 2002. “War endings and the building of secure post-conflict societies: the Case of
Liberia.” Working Paper Series: Foundation for Security and Development in Africa (FOSDA).
Konneh, Augustine. 1996. “Citizenship at the Margins: Status, Ambiguity, and the
Mandingo of Liberia.” African Studies Review 39(2): 141–54.
State Collapse. Durham: Carolina Academic Press.
Liberia Institute of Statistics and Geo-Information Services (LISGIS). 2009. “2008 Popu-
lation and Housing Census, Final Results.” Monrovia.
Lijphart, Arend. 2004. “Constitutional design for divided societies.” Journal of Democracy
15(2): 96–109.
Linz, Juan, and Alfred Stepan. 1996a. Problems of democratic transition and consolida-
tion: southern Europe, South America, and post-communist Europe. Baltimore: Johns
———. 1996b. “Toward Consolidated Democracies.” Journal of Democracy 7(2): 14–33.
Marx, Anthony W. 2002. “The Nation-State and Its Exclusions.” Political Science Quarterly
117(1): 103–26.
Pennsylvania Press.
Paris, Roland. 2004. At War’s End: Building Peace After Civil Conflict. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press.
Reilly, Ben. 2001. Democracy in Divided Societies: Electoral Engineering for Conflict
Management. Cambridge (UK) & New York: Cambridge University Press.
Reno, William. 1998. Warlord Politics and African States. London: Lynne Rienner Publishers.
Reno, William S. 2007. “Liberia: The LURDs of the new church.” In African guerrillas:
raging against the machine, eds. M. Bøås and K. C. Dunn, pp. 69–80. Boulder: Lynne
Rienner Publishers.
Roeder, Philip G., and Donald S. Rothchild, eds. 2005. Sustainable peace: power and
democracy after civil wars. Ithaca: Cornell University Press.
Rustow, Dankwart A. 1970. “Transitions to Democracy: Toward a Dynamic Model.”
Comparative Politics 2(3): 337–63.
Safran, William. 1997. “Citizenship and nationality in democratic systems: Approaches to
defining and acquiring membership in the political community.” International Political
Science Review 18(3): 313–35.
Sambanis, Nicholas. 2001. “Do Ethnic and Nonethnic Civil Wars Have the Same Causes?”
Journal of Conflict Resolution 45(3): 259–82.
Utas, Mats. 2005. “Building a Future? The Reintegration and Re-marginalisation of Youth
in Liberia.” In No Peace, No War: an anthropology of contemporary armed conflicts,
eds. P. Richards and B. Helander, pp. 137–54. Oxford and Athens: Ohio University
Press and James Currey.
Van Gunsteren, Herman R. 1988. “Admission to Citizenship.” Ethics 98(4): 731–41.
Yoder, John Charles. 2003. Popular political culture, civil society, and state crisis in
Liberia. Lewiston: Edwin Mellen Press.
7 Understanding and explaining
the politics of ex-combatants
The politics of ordinary citizens shape regimes. This is perhaps even truer for
former combatants in post-war societies. Thus, this book aimed to uncover and
clarify how ex-combatants in Liberia relate to politics. What has emerged in
the discussions on politics with the ex-combatants is a rich, intricate, some-
times contradictory relationship with and understanding of politics. Several
themes are worth making note of here, and while the ex-combatants were stra-
tegically sampled, the ex-combatants included in the focus groups represent a
full array of ex-combatant experiences in Liberia, and as such describe the rela-
tionship with politics within this group more generally as well. Ex-combatants
in Liberia are not just bad or good citizens, but rather they engage in multiple
political roles: spoilers, victims, disengaged, beneficiaries, as well as moti-
vated and active citizens. Understanding their political voice was the main aim
of this book.
An important contribution of this book was coming to grasps with how
political reintegration should be thought about. While the concept of political
reintegration indicates something important and worthy of investigation, the
usage of the concept in the past has not been adequately theoretically devel-
oped. As a concept it has been poorly explored in the past, and definitions have
been unclear and implicit. Importantly, delineating the unit of analysis added
clarity to this debate. Definitions and measurements of political reintegration
of individual ex-combatants have suffered from implicit democratic expecta-
tions, a limited view of what constitutes political engagement and an inherent
systemic bias. However, this book has argued that political involvement is
primary for understanding what political reintegration is: being involved and
feeling empowered is the conditio sine qua non for political reintegration. But
this is not enough to understand or assess political reintegration. In order to
understand the political voice of ex-combatants, the content of that voice in
terms of the ideals and political values therein also needs to be examined. As
a consequence, four dimensions emerged that describe how the ex-combatants
relate to politics, constituting two components of political reintegration of individual
ex-combatants:
158â•… The politics of ex-combatants
1 the extent of their political voice (political involvement); and
2 the content of their political voice (expressed antagonism, tolerance of dis-
sent and inclusion).
Politics of affection among ex-combatants in Liberia

The lasting impression from working with ex-combatants in Liberia is the inti-
mate and sometimes contradictory relationship with politics most of them
expressed. “Politics” was often seen as derogatory, and their reading of contem-
porary politics in Liberia often resulted in a sense of frustration and sometimes
one of alienation. At the same time, embedded in many of their choices in politics
was a concern for responsibility; at times they saw themselves as the pillars of the
transformation of Liberia, and at others felt they should step aside and leave
politics. Engagement in politics was the bedrock of most of their current stance;
either past engagement had led them to a position of apathy today or their engage-
ment had received additional fuel in the post-war context.
Overall, the ex-combatants are fairly engaged politically, suggesting crea-
tive ways of participating in politics. Representational channels of influence and
extra-representational forms of participation were proposed and seen as viable.
The fact that extra-representational forms of participation also emerged as impor-
tant for how to influence politics was more common when the ex-combatants
perceived ordinary channels as insufficient or failing. Again, this stresses the issue
of fragility and lack of dependability of government institutions as seen by the
ex-combatants. Overall statebuilding clearly influenced the political choices that
were seen as viable and used by the ex-combatants. It also underlines the ambigu-
ity of what constitutes the political arena in Liberia.
While voting was done en masse it was not seen as the preferred solution
for political problems. This can be contrasted with the sentiment that elections
were a central part of their understanding of democracy. So, while conceptu-
ally they saw elections as a central expression of democracy, elections were
not seen as a way of addressing issues of concern. Their electoral experience
also revealed a lack of legitimacy, either because they did not trust the out-
come or because they felt abandoned after the election. Elections highlighted
for them the fickleness and deceptive character of politicians. Elections were
seen as a time when politicians engage in a conversation with and really listen
to the citizens, which then fades away, increasing their sense of remoteness
from politicians. Again, their electoral experience emphasized the centrality
of individuals in politics, and the weakness of institutions, stressing individual
responsibility and the importance of the character of politicians. The contrast
between formal politics and horizontal equality compared to politics seen as an
emotional and hierarchical enterprise comes through here. Through calling for
a more parental relationship with politicians, the ex-combatants tried to create
another basis for loyalty, thus ensuring that political leaders had their interests
at heart, just like a father or mother would. Politics thereby took on a personal-
ized and emotional character.
The politics of ex-combatantsâ•…159
While there was variation in the degree to which they felt listened to and
whether they could be someone who impacts politics or not, the ex-combatants’
overall sense of efficacy was limited. This is particularly troubling as their defi-
nition of democracy clearly focused on just that: being heard and listened to.
This left the ex-combatants with a degree of cynicism, and for some it was felt
so acutely that they showed abhorrence for continued participation in elections
and other representational forms of participation. This sense of powerlessness
was often followed by references to God and religion. Again, this highlights the
hierarchical nature of politics and the parental connotations that came with it.
The omnipotent (whether God or a political leader) was seen as so powerful as to
make all others irrelevant and powerless. So, while spirituality/witchcraft was not
part of the narrative among the ex-combatants (cf. Ellis 2007, 1995), religion is
important for understanding their relation to politics.
Generally, political involvement is the most important dimension for under-
standing the ex-combatants’ relation with politics and associated degree of
political reintegration. In addition to the areas already noted, the ex-combatants
discussed whether demonstrations and protests were ways to participate politi-
cally. The endorsement of these two channels was low. The argument for avoiding
them was often based on either being worried about personal and group reper-
cussions or because they felt they opened up a path back to physical conflict.
The dimension of political involvement speaks to the level of political participa-
tion envisaged by the ex-combatants (in all forms), their feeling of efficacy and
involvement in community decisions as discussed above, which were explored in
Chapter 3.
In order to fully understand the nature of the political voice of the ex-
combatants in Liberia, the content of that voice also needs attention. In particular,
capturing the expression of antagonism among the ex-combatants is an impor-
tant element of understanding the ex-combatants’ potential as endangering the
stability of the political regime. Their hostility and questioning of society was
reinforced by their understanding of their own position in society as subordinate,
casting the ex-combatants in the role of antagonists. Their antagonism as a whole
was primarily directed toward the political system and associated institutions who
failed to live up to their ideals, as well as the political elite which similarly failed
to meet the ex-combatants’ expectations. Much of their critique of current politi-
cal practices in Liberia is related to democratic ideals, and only partly related to
expectations of patronage. Thus, the ex-combatants cannot solely be seen as a
threat to democracy, even when their antagonism is taken seriously.
The degree to which politics was viewed through antagonistic eyes varied a
lot between the groups. Aspects that tapped into this was their take on the use of
protests and violence, but it also relates to whether politics was framed in a we
against them perspective. For instance, having a more hierarchical view of poli-
tics and questioning the results of the elections in 2005, a sense of abandonment
after the elections, seeing the political system as unresponsive and politicians as
self-interested speak to this dimension, a dimension labeled expressed antago-
nism. This dimension was explicitly discussed in Chapter 4.
Parental relationships within politics came up in several contexts. This aspect
of politics has a double edge to it. On the one hand they want to be cared for, but
they also did not want to be treated like children (by Liberian politicians or by the
international community). Again, the emotional is mixed with the hierarchical and
antagonistic. This hierarchical relation is not only one they rebelled against, but
it is also one that was sought after. The dichotomy between young and old, which
has been noted as relevant during the war, reappeared here. This we and them
perspective reinforces both the issue of patronage and being cared for, as well as
rebellion and control. Another important dichotomy has been noted by Moran.
She makes a convincing argument about the centrality of the dichotomy between
natives and settlers in Liberian political culture, something which she considers to
be a master narrative in Liberia (Moran 2006, pp. 35, 72). While the dichotomy
between natives and settlers was not a prominent feature in the interviews for this
book, the hierarchical view of politics and society that is reflected in this was; the
ex-combatants often talked about politicians and the political elite in terms of a
we-them divide.
The ex-combatants in Liberia combined a tendency of distancing themselves
from politics with a deep attraction to politics. As politics often had a negative
connotation, seen as reprehensible, and also partly associated with the war expe-
rience, this was something that they would distance themselves from, often as a
result of trying to avoid the label “ex-combatant”. At the same time, their engage-
ment and fervor in the discussions showed them to be opinionated, passionate,
and interested in political questions and the future of Liberia.
This distancing from and attraction to politics is also reflected in other conflict-
ing ideals. For instance, the ex-combatants failed to adhere to their own pluralist
ideals. Despite ex-combatants’ expression of pluralist ideals (e.g. the importance
of freedom of expression), they have great difficulties applying them in practice,
in particular in relation to the behavior of the political opposition. In part, this
was connected to how individual politicians were viewed: easily corrupted, self-
promoting and sidelining group priorities and needs. As of yet, the rotation of the
political elite through elections has not become institutionalized in Liberia, which
means that the system itself is not a safeguard and guarantee for a customary role
for the opposition, respect from the side of the government for the rights of the
opposition, or the duration of mandates. Instead, this places the responsibility for
tempered politics on the moderation of the behavior of each individual, which is
acutely felt among the ex-combatants. This can be noted in their desire for opposi-
tion politicians that actively help the government rather than openly criticize it.
The dissonance also relates to the difference made between the private and the
public sphere. In the public sphere, other aspects such as responsibility and effi-
ciency become more important, which create demands for post-election loyalty
and standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the government. In the private sphere,
the ex-combatants tended to be more conflictual and idealistic. At the same time,
many of the ex-combatants were vocally dissatisfied with the election results in
2005, again underlining the contradictory elements in their relation to politics.
Also, while most of them gave priority to stability and efficiency, this does not
mean that they were unaware of, or unsympathetic to, tolerance and pluralism.
But as political conflict implied threat, either to fundamental principles of the
regime involved or to actual physical security, tolerance was surpassed by other
more important values.
One dimension of the ex-combatants’ political culture has therefore been
labeled as tolerance of dissent. This dimension relates to the degree to which the
ex-combatants’ value consensus, whether they see dissent as a source of violence
and danger, whether one should avoid criticizing the government, whether the
number of political parties should be decreased, if one should avoid public dissent
entirely, and the degree to which the opposition is identified as a source of danger.
Chapter 5 captured this dimension of the ex-combatants’ relationship with poli-
tics. Dissent and criticism are more accepted and comfortable in the smaller social
units, in private, but when it becomes a public issue it is much more problematic
and often avoided by the ex-combatants.
Another aspect of the way the ex-combatants relate to politics concerns the
construction of the political community itself. In terms of the link between mem-
bership and influence in the polity, the groups clearly identified the Liberian
people as the origin of power in Liberia, even if it was situated within a hierarchi-
cal structure, either because they saw power channeled through various bodies of
government, and ensuing differentiation between the people voting and the leader
deciding, or because they saw Liberia as a whole under external control or guardi-
anship, through the international community or God. Gaining access to a Liberian
identity was seen as possible through many different channels, and in that way
demonstrating the malleability, but also conditionality, of such membership.
However, jus sanguinis, or ancestry, was often the main channel for being seen
as part of the Liberian political community. There was also an emotive aspect to
gaining access, however. Several participants expressed the idea that one needed
to be emotionally invested in Liberia in order for their political membership to
have credibility, echoing the nature of their attachment to political leaders, which
also had undertones of this.
Hence, the degree of inclusion has stood out as another relevant dimension for
understanding their view of politics. Given Liberia’s political and conflict history,
this is not strange. However, the degree of inclusion in politics is also important
from a democratic perspective as it speaks to who is seen as a political equal and
the extension of the political community. This dimension takes into consideration
the ex-combatants’ stance concerning such groups as Mandingos, Americo-
Liberians and the Lebanese, their perceptions of the limits of demos, whether they
differentiate between ethnicity and nationality, and whether they subscribe to the
constitutional exclusion from citizenship based on race (Government of Liberia
1986, article 27). This dimension of the ex-combatants’ relationship with politics
was detailed in Chapter 6.
The four dimensions describe and capture variations among ex-combatants’
relationship with politics in Liberia. This study is an important contribution to
an understanding of the democratization process, through demonstrating how
political culture, among segments of the population, develops in the aftermath of
the war in Liberia. These dimensions are likely to be useful in other contexts as
well. Political involvement is the most central dimension of political reintegra-
tion, and while political participation may take on various forms depending on
context, the question of whether or not ex-combatants feel they have a political
voice is of importance irrespective of context. Contrasting their political voice
with ideals inherent in democracy (such as inclusion and tolerance) is likely to
be useful in other contexts as well in order to gauge the content of their political
voice. The dimensions of tolerance of dissent and inclusion enable such contrasts.
However, the antagonism dimension also has the potential to be a useful point of
comparison, especially in other post-conflict contexts. The dimension expressed
antagonism reveals something about the underlying nature of their involvement
as it draws out other specific ideals and values, although not entirely democratic
ideals. In particular, it provides the tools for understanding the degree to which the
ex-combatants are antagonists or protagonists of democracy through pinpointing
what the source of their antagonism is.
While this book does not give a complete picture of the relationship with poli-
tics for all ex-combatants in Liberia, the limitations of the strategic sample used
in the focus groups were partially offset by the use of the Afrobarometer data.
Through the comparison with the Afrobarometer data, it becomes clear that the
ex-combatant community is like the population as a whole in some ways, and
different in others. Most importantly, it became clear that the ex-combatants tend
to be more involved in politics, actively participating through various channels
more extensively than the general public. In terms of some political values and
attitudes, the ex-combatants are much like other Liberians (as seen in Chapter 4
on antagonism and Chapter 6 on inclusion), and in some areas they diverge more
(as seen in Chapter 5 on tolerance of dissent).
The focus group data has also shown that the ex-combatant community is
not completely homogenous: there are important differences between different
segments within this community. Not all ex-combatants are the same. The focus
group data has also revealed interesting ambiguities for some groups through the
combination of certain values and attitudes. Their relationship to politics is not
entirely coherent, as several beliefs and ideas are contradictory. This is especially
the case with the antagonism dimension in comparison with the dimensions of
both inclusion and tolerance of dissent. The hierarchical element of the antago-
nism dimension stands in stark contrast with the equality principle embedded in
inclusion. The importance of emotions and affect in their political voice stands in
contrast with the idea of formalized and impersonal politics in liberal democracies.
The antagonism dimension also highlights more conflictual orientations, which
relates in interesting ways to the degree to which dissent is tolerated. Interestingly,
some groups rated high on certain dimensions that sit more or less comfortably
with each other, for instance through combining high expressed antagonism and
a low tolerance for dissent. This particular combination is especially worrisome
from a democratic perspective.
Taken altogether, the ex-combatants expressed conceptually refined and politi-
cally aware understandings of, and relations with, politics. Yet, they are also
caught in what can be described as an expression of politics of affection. To act
in affect or express affective ideals in politics, suggests that “emotion rather than
thought” is the driving force for such political actors (“affection” and “affect”
1997, p. 13). There is an emotive or affective undertone to many of the stands
taken by the ex-combatants. Politics of affection is not primarily driven by issues
of representation, accountability and liberal democratic ideals, but by something
else: a logic of emotional connectedness with politics. The resulting relationship
with politics expressed in all four dimensions among the ex-combatants speaks
to this logic. For instance, the trust in politicians is filtered, based on the extent
to which they are seen as behaving as kin or parents. Caring for and establishing
emotional bonds matter in politics. This is politics of affection, rather than insti-
tutionalized politics in the liberal democratic vein. Here, one is dependent on the
change of hearts of the political elite, rather than on the formal removal through
elections. Individuals’ inner motives seem to matter more than institutions or
practices. Failure to be elected does not remove responsibility for politics, instead
politicians are expected to deliver anyway on promises expressed during cam-
paigns, and failure to do so is interpreted as an emotional betrayal.1 Responsibility
for the political community as a whole is a concern for all members, and express-
ing dissent openly is therefore avoided in order to safeguard the well-being of
the community. The limited resources available for governing and public policies
enhance the importance of signaling care through other means.
The importance of emotion in politics has been highlighted elsewhere as well
(Marcus 2003; Marcus et al. 2000; Ottati et al. 1992; Summers-Effler 2002;
Valentino et al. 2011; Mouffe 2000), and among ex-combatants (Nussio 2012;
Metsola 2010). Emotion in politics does not have to be inimical to democracy per
se. Recent work has shown that emotional responses do not have to be in conflict
with rational and reflective judgment (Marcus et al. 2000). Yet, satiating emo-
tional needs through politics is something else. Politics of affection is likely to
have repercussions for voter choice, how accountability is understood and appor-
tioned, and ultimately what the political system delivers to its citizens. In contrast
with the concept of an economy of affection (see Hydén 1980; Lemarchand 1989),
politics of affection highlight emotional logics in the realm of politics, not just in
terms of ordering economic structures (see also some similarities with the use of
the term in Kaplan and Kelly 1994, pp. 130–45). An economy of affection is said
to rely on a logic of patronage and reciprocity, and others have noted the relevance
of this in Liberian society, also highlighting the centrality of valuing stability
(Yoder 2003, pp. 46, 263, 270f). Importantly, an economy of affection underlines
the importance of personal relationships for economic activity and survival. In
this sense, politics of affection is a more encompassing idea, as it goes beyond
stating that personal relationships are important for everyday politics: acts of per-
suasion, political rhetoric, and readings of political structures and developments
are emotively charged. The terms politics of affection and economy of affection
are therefore neither mutually exclusive nor predestined to exist in parallel.
While the politics of affection also stress reciprocity, it is not necessarily an
equal relationship. In fact, it is quite the opposite. The hierarchical element that
has become visible in several areas (suppression of dissent in favor of order in
the public realm, seeking patronage and sponsors, apathy and omnipotent leaders,
the individual’s responsibility toward the group) is indicative of politics of affec-
tion. In this way, the hierarchical and the pursuit of order and stability stand in
contrast to, but they also sustain the rebellion and antagonism directly associated
with, these structures and sentiments. So, while patronage is sought for, the ex-
combatants also denounce and dislike this relationship and the ensuing position of
subordination. The ex-combatants questioned this order in the schools (routines,
treatment and power) and were often met with repression. The importance of obe-
dience and order has long been stressed in the Liberian education environment
(Yoder 2003, pp. 306–32), and it is therefore not surprising that YMCA trainers
would stress Liberians’ right to obey their leaders. While this overall relationship
with politics may be emblematic of the entire political culture in Liberia, this book
cannot make such claims.2 However, it seems likely that this tendency is stronger
among the ex-combatant community.
The reciprocity aspect also comes through in the relevance of dependency
in the political community. In his work on Liberia, Yoder notes the lack of a
willingness to take responsibility in Liberian society, for instance ex-combatants
suggesting they were fooled to join the war (Yoder 2003, p. 225). While many ex-
combatants in this study also clearly expressed a sense of having been fooled by
the elite and government into joining the war, it could be argued that this reflects
an attempt to create responsibility on the side of the government in the post-war
context. It was a way to create bonds of responsibility in the present, to entice the
government to care for them. Also, there is a very definite sense of taking respon-
sibility among the ex-combatants. For them, it was clear that institutions depend
on people, in particular on leaders, but also that society as a whole is dependent
on individuals. This means that stronger leaders are needed, but also that ordinary
citizens have to behave in more orderly and appropriate ways in order to protect
the well-being of the political community.
This book has also shown that current conceptualizations of political reinte-
gration have been crippled. Making clear what unit of analysis is the referent
object of political reintegration helps illuminate how the definition of this concept
will vary depending on whether it is a question of politically reintegrating the
military elite, armed groups or individual combatants. Similarly, justifications,
challenges and explanations vary between these levels (see Table 1.1, Chapter 1).
Furthermore, political reintegration at the level of the individual combatant was
measured in relation to the extent of their political voice (political involvement)
and the content of their political voice (antagonism, tolerance of dissent and inclu-
sion). If political reintegration is to be measured, one cannot rely on simplistic
measures of whether the ex-combatants prefer democracy or not, or how they
evaluate the political system they are in. Political reintegration is more than that,
and more explicit than that.
It is however important to note that agreeing on how political reintegration
should be defined is one thing, but it is an entirely different matter deciding whether
policies like reintegration programs should use such measures as an explicit aim
to achieve. This is a question for politicians. Suffice to note here that, while many
things contribute and detract from ex-combatants being politically reintegrated, it
is perhaps wise to at least refrain from undermining political reintegration through
the DDR policies put in place as part of contemporary peacebuilding measures.
Similarly, political mobilization of former combatants in response to the reinte-
gration policies targeting them should not be actively discouraged but treated as
an opening for developing a democratic dialogue. Explaining political reintegra-
tion of ex-combatants is the focus of the next section.
Explaining political reintegration of ex-combatants

This book has shown the richness and complexity of the relationships with politics
that endure and develop through war and peace within the ex-combatant commu-
nity. The role of ex-combatants and their associated networks are not just bad or
good, but rather they take on multiple political roles voicing various political ide-
als. Working with this particular group in society has spurred new questions. The
variations visible within this relationship make it especially important to under-
stand what shapes these political roles. What conditions their political engagement
in a wider sense? This is an important question that has only partly been consid-
ered in this book up to this point. Ex-combatants’ political behavior and political
attitudes are of course susceptible to the same explanations as that of ordinary
individuals. For instance, there is no reason to believe that education has a dif-
ferent impact on ex-combatants than “ordinary citizens”. Of course, there may be
relevant differences between those who were mobilized or forcefully recruited
into combat and those who were not: that may continue to condition their political
engagement. The interesting explanatory factors, however, are those that single
out the ex-combatants, due to their status as ex-combatants. Some of these expla-
nations are located in the pre-war experiences of the ex-combatants, others have
their origins in the war experiences themselves, whereas yet again others are post-
war related (see also Schafer 2007, pp. 11–15). Past research has focused on some
of these issues, but the current evidence is neither systematic nor complete, and
more remains to be done.
The pre-war experiences would include all those things that made them more
vulnerable to participation in the armed conflict to begin with. For instance, the
original motivations and potential grievances behind their decision to join are
likely to be of such importance that they will continue to structure the political
behavior and orientations of the ex-combatants post-war. This is especially the
case when these conditions continue to structure society post-war, such as struc-
tural inequalities or lack of security.
In terms of the war experiences, the impact of such factors as the longevity of
the enrollment in the armed group, behavior of the armed group itself in terms of
indoctrination attempts, interaction with civilians, recruitment techniques, among
others, are likely to also condition their political engagement post-war. Depending
on the war, skills can be learned during the war that can become important
resources for a political life post-demobilization. The ex-combatants’ perception
and changing perception of the goal of the struggle will most likely also color
the post-war political realities and choices of the ex-combatants. The form of
recruitment, and their possible exit from the armed group, may also condition
the way the ex-combatants see the world and politics. A recent study has shown
the lasting impact of draft procedures during the Vietnam war, thus recruitment
practices and public policy preceding active war duty can also shape political ori-
entations (Erikson and Stoker 2011). Current research here is, however, scant and
unsystematic. While more work has been carried out on impact of enrollment in
regular armies, current experiences with civil war are less studied in terms of their
political ramifications for individual ex-combatants (for an important exception,
see Blattman 2009).
However, the post-war experiences are still more interesting, as these are ele-
ments that may be more malleable; this time period represents an opportunity to
shape the conditions for the ex-combatants’ political engagement, in a way that
is not possible with the pre-war and war factors. The question is both what can
peacebuilders do, and what should they do?
During the interviews it became obvious that the ex-combatant community
has continued relevance even after completing the DDR program. While a lot of
peacebuilding efforts focus on disconnecting the rank and file with their com-
manders, and reinforcing the structure and bailouts at the top, through party
transformation support, understanding what functions these networks play is a
neglected area of research. Based on these interviews in Liberia, it is doubtful
that all of the functions of these networks are problematic, as they often constitute
an important resource for economic integration if nothing else. Yet disbanding
these networks is proclaimed as central to peacebuilding strategies today (see
also McMullin’s critique on this 2013b, p. 399, 2013a, pp. 34, 241). Of course
intact contacts also mean that recruitment for rearmament can occur more easily,
but so far efforts at disbanding these networks seem to be failing. Ex-combatant
networks and veterans’ associations have played various roles in the past. World
War I veterans in Germany were instrumental for the growth of fascism, whereas
in France veterans’ associations may have played the opposite role and actively
prevented the growth of fascism (Prost 1992; Bessel and Englander 1981, p. 392;
Boëne and Forcade 1994, p. 336). The development of veterans’ networks in
the United States has made this group an important political force in the United
States today, where “it is difficult for any politician to say ‘no’ to the veterans’
lobby” (Dean 1992, p. 69). It is clear that current peacebuilding literature could
benefit from an increased synthesis between the “veterans” literature and the
“ex-combatant” literature. The human experience of political mobilization after
armed demobilization is one such phenomenon that would benefit from more
comparative work across this divide.
The ex-combatants in Liberia clearly maintained strong links with different
political parties, even if it was not always predictable based on former factional
membership. While many worked as lower level party functionaries, recruiting
this particular group for interviews was difficult. Compared to other settings in
Liberia, it seemed particularly stigmatizing to identify yourself as an ex-combatant
in this environment. Compared to Sierra Leone, the notion of watermelon politics
(playing on and using various party affiliations, such as participating in vote buy-
ing yet still voting for their party of choice (Christensen and Utas 2008)) is not as
prevalent in Liberia. Nor is the ex-combatants’ role as security for political parties
as apparent. The future relationship between political parties and the ex-combatant
network is particularly interesting in the context of developing a multi-party demoÂ�
cracy in Liberia, and worth researching further.
During this research it has become clear that factional differences matter to
some extent.3 Mobilization into specific armed groups may signal differences in
political attitudes and behavior to begin with. In addition, different experiences
within each armed group during the war may also help to explain such differ-
ences between ex-combatants with different factional membership. However, one
should also consider how the group experience post-war shapes individual ex-
combatants’ political engagement. For instance, does it matter if the armed group
transforms itself into a viable political party or not? Such transformation has in
the near past been assumed as benign for the individual members of these groups,
although there is no systematic evidence of this. This is an interesting area for
continued research, and a question that reconnects with the discussion of politi-
cal reintegration at different levels of analysis and the need to examine how the
levels relate to each other. The conditions for, and behavior of, the armed group
and its political elite can limit, color as well open up for a productive and demo-
cratic political engagement on the side of the individual ex-combatants. What
determines if the political party, or veterans’ organization, encourages or limits
the political voice of ex-combatants?
Another important determinant of the political activity of ex-combatants is
related to their reception into the community. As noted in this book, many ex-
combatants felt a need to restrict their political activity in order to facilitate their
social acceptance in the community post-war. Avoiding further stigmatization on
such grounds is one example of how the discourse about ex-combatants in the
population as a whole can be a forceful determinant of the political reintegration
of ex-combatants. Similarly, Schafer has noted that the reception of both World
War I veterans and Vietnam veterans were marked by very specific discourses
about former soldiers, oftentimes limiting the behavioral choices of these vet-
erans (Schafer 2007, p. 14). In fact, the current discourse about veterans in the
United States is still an object of discussion, where quite recently the Department
of Veterans Affairs tried to mitigate the idea of veterans “as ticking time bombs”
(Hudak 2014). Bolten recently described how the non-combatant community in
Sierra Leone has adopted strategies of avoidance in their treatment of former
soldiers, effectively limiting the political voice of the ex-combatant community
(Bolten 2012). This suggests that the social reintegration of former combatants
can at times be in conflict with their political reintegration.
In this book the group of ex-combatants has been treated as a politically rele-
vant group, although its limits are sometimes porous and significant within group
differences are apparent. The relevance of ex-combatant status is also something
that will vary between different post-war contexts. Ex-combatants often remain
as a social category; veterans simply do not disappear from society (e.g. as can
be noted from the idea and practice of veterans’ burials). Being a former combat-
ant seems to be an identity label that, for various reasons, remains potent across
time. At times, the structures put in place to move beyond such labels inherently
underline the continued relevance of the same labels. One such intervention is
the Demobilization, Disarmament and Reintegration Programs that are part and
parcel of current peacebuilding processes. In the case of Liberia, the suspicion
is that only a few of the reintegration programs really managed to transcend the
ex-combatant identity, allowing individuals to choose more strategically which
identity to adopt. While the DDR process as a whole was not the object of research
here, the impression is that the program underlined the continued relevance of the
ex-combatant community. While the evidence here is not clear, some programs
managed to invalidate the relevance of the ex-combatant network for these indi-
viduals more. However, perhaps the removal of the label is not the issue. Again, a
historical comparison with the World War II veterans in the United States shows
that this generation has since then often been termed the civic generation of the
United States, and that these veterans have been important pillars of both the
development of the welfare state and the vitalization of democracy. Reintegration
programs can similarly be an integral and productive part of such developments
(see also McMullin 2013a, p. 38). The more important question is if the label
“veteran” or “ex-combatant” hinders the expression of active and conscientious
citizenship or not.
Reintegration programs and state policies toward veterans in themselves can
become sites and cause of political mobilization, as has been noted in Namibia
(Metsola 2010, 2006), Timor-Leste (Roll 2013), Mozambique (Schafer 2007, pp.
139–65, 2001), and in Liberia (see also Kaufmann 2011) to name a few examples.
These more recent examples mirror the historical experience with veterans, in
particular in the United States (see e.g. Skocpol 1992; Mettler 2005; McMullin
2013a, pp. 58–65), where veterans benefits became a site of political mobilization.
While the war experience itself may mold the former combatants’ involvement in
politics, the post-war experience may also play a key role. Research on the
G.I. Bill of Rights4 and World War II veterans in the United States suggests that
the program increased levels of participation, sense of involvement in the state
and shaped political orientations among veterans (Mettler 2005; Sampson and
Laub 1996; Canaday 2003; Bound and Turner 2002; Krebs 2004, p. 118).
Political reintegration is unlikely to occur in a vacuum. Political reintegra-
tion is most likely dependent upon at least some absolute level of socioeconomic
improvement for the ex-combatants. However, having the time and ability to be
politically involved does not necessarily entail democratic politics. Policies and
program design may accentuate positive and democratic tendencies among those
participating in the programs. There are many indications that political learning
occurs in various meetings with the state and public agencies. Clearly, reinte-
gration programs that form part of current peacebuilding initiatives can be an
important sphere for learning about the state, the post-war polity and post-war
politics (for more on this, see Söderström 2013). Söderström has shown how
program design and procedural aspects of reintegration programs5 can modify
how politics is played out, and in particular may transmit political ideas and medi-
ate how the political system as a whole is understood among those targeted (and
excluded) by the program. This form of policy feedback should also apply to other
peacebuilding initiatives, such as Truth and Reconciliation programs, which are
also likely to carry important cognitive cues about the role of citizens, and in
particular for those who used to bear arms. More work needs to be done detail-
ing what those cognitive cues are, as well as their long-term effects. However, it
seems likely that, in the context of large transitions in weak states, policies like
DDR can be formative. DDR and peacebuilding in the context of weak institu-
tions can signify a complete overhaul of society despite their limited and fleeting
interference in a global comparison. Programs targeting veterans in the Global
North are normally much more extensive and costly. There are political ramifica-
tions of not just active combat, but also arising from how former combatants are
thought of, handled, and dealt with after demobilization.
Implications for democracy and peace in Liberia

This book should have made clear that the entire group of ex-combatants does not
have to be a problem per se for democracy and peace. Rather, there are specific
attributes within this community that can be worrisome or particularly encourag-
ing for democracy and peace. In this final section of the book, the implications
for both democracy and peace in Liberia due to the ex-combatants’ relationship(s)
with politics are discussed. Again, however, it is important to note that the ex-
combatant community is not the sole determinant of the development of peace
and democracy in Liberia. Resolving the political, economic, social, regional and
structural inequalities and conflicts in Liberia rests heavily on the shoulders of
Liberian society as a whole. This section tries to tease out some of the potential
conflicts which arise when ex-combatants act as citizens in a post-war state. In
any society, citizens who engage in critical reflection over politics are an asset
for the political development of that society, and can act as an important bulwark
for democracy. This does not mean, however, that they alone can stave off war or
ensure the stability of the regime.
The most important dimension related to the ex-combatants’ relation with poli-
tics is their level of political involvement. From a democratic standpoint, a sense
of efficacy is important among the citizenry. The absolute levels of actual partici-
pation is a larger normative question, where some claim that the ideal is rather
that of citizen on call (see e.g. Amnå 2008), as compared to one that is constantly
engaged. Too much activity on the side of the citizens is bound to put too much
pressure on the political system, and may signal discontent. In the Liberian case,
while the ex-combatants are actively using various channels for political partici-
pation, they also express low levels of efficacy. Their use of extra-representational
channels of participation indicates dissatisfaction with the current functioning of
politics and democracy in Liberia: representational and formal channels of politi-
cal participation are not responsive enough. For democracy, equal opportunities
for political participation are important, and the ex-combatants do not seem to be
on the losing side here.
Pertaining to peacebuilding, the involvement of the ex-combatants in politics
may be both worrisome and essential. It is clear that not all forms of participation
are seen in a positive light among peacebuilders (such as demonstrations), and if
the ex-combatants take up more space in politics than other groups in society, this
may reflect an unfair advantage and continued dominance from the war. However,
if they are underrepresented or if they do not feel that they have the opportu-
nity to voice their concerns, this can seriously undermine the peace project in
the short term as well as the long term, as they can be more easily mobilized for
violent activities (compare experiences of veterans in post-World War I Germany
and Hungary)6 (see also Walter 2004). Collective action by ex-combatants need
not per definition be either beneficial or detrimental for peace and democracy: it
largely depends on what the content of that political voice is. In the case of Liberia,
many ex-combatants expressed an avoidance of confrontational channels of par-
ticipation, and a dislike for confrontational norms; in this sense the ex-combatants
are helping to keep the peace in Liberia. However, some ex-combatants’ experi-
ence of stigmatization as “ex-combatants” meant that they avoided politics and
expressing their voice. From a democratic standpoint this is deeply problematic,
and it risks underlining their position as peripheral and marginalized in society.
Expressed antagonism becomes especially important and potentially worrying
from a peacebuilding perspective. From a peace and conflict perspective, the indi-
viduals that express a high level of antagonism are disconcerting, especially in the
short term. These individuals expressed a sense of alienation and frustration with
the current state of affairs, and were more open to the use of force. They would
thereby be more easily mobilized for renewed physical confrontation. However,
it is not entirely clear how this dimension should be evaluated in terms of democ-
racy. While the use of force is not acceptable in a democracy, having the courage
to criticize and question the current state of affairs is appropriate. Skepticism in
politics is valuable. Similarly, many of the recipients of their antagonism were
elements of Liberian politics that fall short of democratic ideals. However, the
hierarchical element here is more problematic and stands in stark opposition to
the democratic norm of equality. The emotional content of politics indicated by
some ex-combatants also runs contrary to liberal ideas about how democracy and
politics should be dealt with. Importantly, the ex-combatants interviewed for this
book seem to be driven into political disengagement rather than violent engage-
ment in the wake of their antagonism; this may be good for peace in Liberia but it
certainly is not good for democracy.
Interestingly, the ex-combatants did not identify other warring groups as the
main source/target of their antagonism. Ex-combatants from other factions were
not primarily identified as the enemy, but rather as peers. To many, the idea of one
ex-combatant community was evident, and in this way the experience of civil war
veterans is perhaps more similar to the experience of veterans from inter-state wars
than often imagined. This is not to deny that ex-combatants from various armed
groups displayed differences, simply that they do not identify such ex-combatants
as their main counterpart. Foremost, the elite was identified as this counterpart, but
so were members of other political parties. From both the perspective of democracy
and peace, it is reassuring that the antagonism is directed in this way. However, it
also underlines the fact that the societal conflicts that fed the armed conflict are still
in place in Liberia.
The tolerance of dissent dimension works in opposite directions depending
on which evaluative framework is applied: democracy or peace. For democracy,
a low level of tolerance is problematic, as it would entail silencing debate. For
peace, such levels may actually be stabilizing. Individuals that are low on this
dimension seek to limit debate and expressions of dissent; they value stability
and efficiency instead. From a peace consolidation perspective this may be wise,
as it gives the political institutions time to mature through avoiding open conflict
in the present. However, for the longer term development of politics and peace
in Liberia, a low tolerance of dissent may be more worrisome than expressed
antagonism. If things stay on track, and the political space for debate widens and
conditions improve, there may be little to worry about. But if that is not the case,
and these groups experience a continued suppression of frustration, they may
prove to be the proverbial pressure cooker, which at some point could explode.
Rating high on inclusion is favorable for democracy. A high level of inclusion,
or extensive horizontal legitimacy, entails extending political rights in an egalitar-
ian way, thus deepening the claims of representing a true demos. This dimension
does not speak directly to peace, although it touches on one of the conflict issues
in Liberia, namely who should be considered Liberian and who should not. So, if
anything, rating high on this dimension would be positively evaluated from the
standpoint of both peace and democracy. The ex-combatants envision a rather
inclusive demos, except in relation to the Mandingo community in Liberia. The
inclusion of the Mandingo community in is an important challenge for both peace
and democracy in post-war Liberia.
The relationship with politics among the ex-combatants is not independent of
the institutional landscape in Liberia. Having institutions that respond to the citi-
zens’ demands is crucial, and flaws and limitations here can prove to be highly
detrimental to the political orientations of the ex-combatants, among others.
Institutional improvement at turning points, such as after a war, have a huge poten-
tial, as it is a window of opportunity for creating a different relation between the
state and its citizens, and for altering the expectations on both parties. However,
if such improvements do not materialize, this formative window of opportunity is
lost, as this is likely to be acutely felt among the ex-combatants. Neither is the ex-
combatants’ relationship with politics independent of the behavior and statements
by the political elite. The political elite have the potential to frame politics and
common understandings of societal challenges; this is a momentous responsibility
with clear repercussions for democracy and peace in Liberia.
It was clear that the ex-combatants responded to the realities in the political
environment in which they found themselves. Frustration related to, for exam-
ple, the price of food, the lack of employment opportunities, as well as feeling
restricted in terms of expression, was directly linked to their propensity to pursue
more conflictual politics. They turned to channels outside regular politics for par-
ticipation, partly because of a perceived failure within regular channels. This is
not an indication of failed political reintegration on the part of the ex-combatants,
but rather a failure at the level of the institutions of democracy in Liberia. Whether
the ex-combatants of Liberia ultimately should be described as protagonists or
antagonists of democracy in Liberia is too early to tell.
Notes
1 Others have also noted how political parties in the region function as Big Men, a position
of patronage, albeit a fragile and tenuous one, where politicians, and political parties,
continually need to be seen as credible patrons (Yoder 2003, p. 281; Utas 2012).
2 There are some indications, however, that this view and understanding of politics is not
limited to the ex-combatant community in Liberia, as suggested by a study of Liberian
refugees in the United States (Brown 2011).
3 For instance, MODEL ex-combatants stand out as less politically involved than the other
two factions, and often as being more antagonistic, whereas LURD ex-combatants were
sometimes less inclusive.
4 This is how the bill has become known, but the bill was formally named the Service-
men’s Readjustment Act of 1944.
5 Such program design elements or procedural aspects of the reintegration programs
include the following: decision-making structures within the programs; composition of
beneficiaries; registration procedures; access procedures; entry/career counselling; com-
munication practices within the program; origin of program; target group definitions;
identification means and practices; and bureaucratic professionalism among the DDR
practitioners and staff.
6 However, the number of German veterans that mobilized into the Freikorps has often
been exaggerated. Only about 400,000 of the 8,500,000 that demobilized at the end of
World War I joined these ranks (Bessel and Englander 1981, p. 388).
References
“affection” and “affect”. 1997. In The new international Webster’s concise dictionary of
the English Language, eds. S. I. Landau and R. J. Bogus, Naples: Trident Press
International.
Amnå, Erik. 2008. Jourhavande Medborgare: Samhällsengagemang i en folkrörelsestat.
Lund: Studentlitteratur.
Bessel, Richard, and David Englander. 1981. “Review Article: Up From the Trenches:
Some Recent Writing on the Soldiers of the Great War.” European History Quarterly
11(3): 387–95.
Boëne, Bernard, and Olivier Forcade. 1994. “Book Review: In the Wake of War: ‘Les
Anciens Combattants’ and French Society, 1914–1939.” Armed Forces & Society
20(2): 334–7.
Bound, John, and Sarah Turner. 2002. “Going to War and Going to College: Did World War II
and the G.I. Bill Increase Educational Attainment for Returning Veterans?” Journal of
Labor Economics 20(4): 784–815.
Canaday, Margot. 2003. “Building a straight state: Sexuality and social citizenship under
the 1944 GI Bill.” Journal of American History 90(3): 935–57.
107(429): 515–39.
Dean, Eric T. 1992. “The Myth of the Troubled and Scorned Vietnam Veteran.” Journal of
American Studies 26(1): 59–74.
Affairs 94(375): 165–97.
———. 2007. The Mask of Anarchy. The Destruction of Liberia and the Religious Dimension
of an African Civil War. Second edn. New York: New York University Press.
Erikson, Robert S., and Laura Stoker. 2011. “Caught in the Draft: The Effects of Vietnam Draft
Lottery Status on Political Attitudes.” American Political Science Review 105(2): 221–37.
Government of Liberia. 1986. “Constitution of the Republic of Liberia.”
Hudak, Tim. 2014. Fighting Stereotypes: “Deadly Aftermath Of War Right Here At
Home” is less deadly than the general population. VAntage Point, The U.S. Depart-
ment of Veterans Affairs. April 10. Online: http://www.blogs.va.gov/VAntage/13703/
fighting-stereotypes-deadly-aftermath-of-war-right-here-at-home-is-less-deadly-than-
the-general-population/ (accessed April 11, 2014).
Hydén, Göran. 1980. Beyond ujamaa in Tanzania: Underdevelopment and an uncaptured
peasantry. Berkeley: University of California Press.
Kaplan, Martha, and John D. Kelly. 1994. “Rethinking Resistance: Dialogics of ‘Disaffec-
tion’ in Colonial Fiji.” American Ethnologist 21(1): 123–51.
Kaufmann, Andrea. 2011. “The Lost Honor. Ex-Soldiers Fighting for Their Rights in
Post-Conflict Liberia.” Paper presented at the Fourth European Conference on African
Studies (ECAS), June 15–18, Uppsala.
Lemarchand, René. 1989. “African Peasantries, Reciprocity and the Market – the Economy
of Affection Reconsidered.” Cahiers d’Études Africaines 29(1): 33–67.
McMullin, Jaremey R. 2013a. Ex-Combatants and the Post-Conflict State. Challenges of
———. 2013b. “Integration or separation? The stigmatisation of ex-combatants after war.”
Review of International Studies 39(2): 385–414.
Marcus, George E. 2003. “The Psychology of Emotion and Politics.” In Oxford Handbook
of political psychology, eds. D. O. Sears, L. Huddy and R. Jervis, pp. 182–221. New York:
Oxford University Press.
Marcus, George E., W. Russell Neuman, and Michael MacKuen. 2000. Affective Intelli-
gence and Political Judgment. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Metsola, Lalli. 2006. “‘Reintegration’ of ex-combatants and Former Fighters: a lens into
state formation and citizenship in Namibia.” Third World Quarterly 27(6): 1119–35.
———. 2010. “The Struggle Continues? The Spectre of Liberation, Memory Politics and
‘War Veterans’ in Namibia.” Development and Change 41(4): 589–613.
Mettler, Suzanne. 2005. Soldiers to citizens: the G.I. bill and the making of the greatest
generation. Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press.
Pennsylvania Press.
Mouffe, Chantal. 2000. “Politics and Passions: the Stakes of Democracy.” Ethical Perspec-
tives 7(2–3): 146–50.
Nussio, Enzo. 2012. “Emotional Legacies of War Among Former Colombian Paramilitaries.”
Peace & Conflict: Journal of Peace Psychology 18(4): 369–83.
Ottati, Victor C., Steenbergem Marco R., and Ellen Riggle. 1992. “The Cognitive and
Affective Components of Political Attitudes: Measuring the Determinants of Candidate
Evaluations.” Political Behavior 14(4): 423–42.
Prost, Antoine. 1992. In the wake of war: ‘les Anciens Combattants’ and French Society.
Providence: Berg.
Roll, Kate C. 2013. “Arguing for Care: The Explosive Growth of Reintegration Programmes
in Timor-Leste.” Paper presented at the Second Nordic Conference for Development
Research: ‘Knowing Development – Developing Knowledge?’, 14–15 November, Helsinki.
Sampson, Robert J., and John H. Laub. 1996. “Socioeconomic achievement in the life
course of disadvantaged men: Military service as a turning point, Circa 1940–1965.”
American Sociological Review 61(3): 347–67.
Schafer, Jessica. 2001. “Guerrillas and Violence in the War in Mozambique: De-Socialization
or Re-Socialization?” African Affairs 100(399): 215–37.
———. 2007. Soldiers at Peace: Veterans and Society After the Civil War in Mozambique.
Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan.
Skocpol, Theda. 1992. Protecting soldiers and mothers: The political origins of social
policy in the United States. Cambridge, MA.: Harvard University Press.
Söderström, Johanna. 2013. “The Political Consequences of Reintegration Programmes in
Current Peace-building: A Framework for Analysis.” Conflict, Security & Development
13(1): 87–116.
Summers-Effler, Erika. 2002. “The micro potential for social change: Emotion, conscious-
ness, and social movement formation.” Sociological Theory 20(1): 41–60.
Utas, Mats, ed. 2012. African Conflicts and Informal Power: Big Men and Networks.
London: Zed Books.
Valentino, Nicholas A., Ted Brader, Eric W. Groenendyk, Krysha Gregorowicz, and Vin-
cent L. Hutchings. 2011. “Election Night’s Alright for Fighting: The Role of Emotions
in Political Participation.” The Journal of Politics 73(1): 156–170.
Lewiston: Edwin Mellen Press.
Appendices
Aâ•‡INTERVIEWS
Program staff
GAA, field worker. Personal interview, Zwedru, April 18, 2008.
GAA, local director. Personal interview, Monrovia, March 20, 2010.
GAA, regional director West Africa, Bernd Schwenk. Personal interview, Monrovia,
November 2007, March 2010.
High school principal (private and religious). Personal interview, Monrovia, March 19,
2010.
High school principal (government school). Personal interview, Monrovia, March 16,
2010.
MVTC, director, S.A. Morris Kainessie. Personal interview, Monrovia, November
2007.
MVTC, psychosocial counselor. Personal interview, Monrovia, November 2007.
NCDDRR, John Dennis. Personal interview, Monrovia, November 2007.
Stella Maris Polytechnic, coordinator, Julius Adighibe. Personal interview, Monrovia,
March 11, 2010.
Stella Maris Polytechnic, employee and ex-combatant. Personal interview, Monrovia,
March 11, 2010.
The Swedish Pentecostal Mission Relief and Development Cooperation Agency
(PMU) InterLife, director, Dorbor M. Akoi. Personal interview, Monrovia, March
18, 2010.
The Swedish Pentecostal Mission Relief and Development Cooperation Agency
(PMU) Interlife, psychosocial counselor. Personal interview, Monrovia, March
18, 2010.
UMCOR and the Swedish Pentecostal Mission Relief and Development Cooperation
Agency, psychosocial counselor. Personal interview, Monrovia, May 23, 2008.
UMCOR, director, Sheku Silla. Personal interview, Monrovia, November 2007.
UMCOR, psychosocial counselor and accelerated learning program teacher. Personal
interview, Foya, May 2, 2008.
UMCOR, trainer (carpenter). Personal interview, Foya, May 1, 2008.
UMCOR, trainer (tailor). Personal interview, Foya, May 1, 2008.
UMU, acting chair of social work department, Julius B McGill. Personal interview,
Monrovia, March 11, 2010.
176â•… Appendices
UMU, instructor, James Rufus Folley. Personal interview, Monrovia, March 11, 2010.
United Methodist Committee, psychosocial counselor. Personal interview, Monrovia,
March 19, 2010.
United Methodist Committee, reverend and psychosocial field worker. Personal interview,
Monrovia, March 18, 2010.
YMCA, field officer. Personal interview, Monrovia, March 9, 2010.
YMCA, program coordinator, Julius K. Sele. Personal interview, Monrovia, November
2007, March 16, 2010.
YMCA, psychosocial counselor. Personal interview, Monrovia, March 9, 2010.
UN personnel
UN, media liaison adviser NEC, Catarina Fabiansson. Personal interview, Monrovia, June
5, 2008.
UNDP, JIU DDRR, reintegration field coordinator, Celeste Staley. Personal interview,
Monrovia, November 2007.
UNMIL, RRR. Personal interview, Monrovia, March 20, 2010.
UNMIL, RRR. Personal interview, Monrovia, November 2007.
UNMIL. Personal interview, Monrovia, March 13, 2010.
Other
All Liberian Coalition Party (ALCOP), Junior Senator, Lofa county. Personal interview,
Monrovia, June 11, 2008.
CDC, party supporter. Personal interview, Monrovia, March 17, 2010.
CDC, zonal head in Monrovia. Personal interview, Monrovia, March 12, 2010.
Coalition for Transformation of Liberia (COTOL), Junior Senator, Grand Gedeh county.
Personal interview, Monrovia, June 13, 2008.
County youth officer (Montserrado), Claudius Cooper. Personal interview, Monrovia, May
30, 2008.
Independent, House of Representatives, Montserrado county, district no 14. Personal
interview, Monrovia, June 12, 2008.
Liberty Party (LP), House of Representatives, Montserrado county, district no 6. Personal
interview, Monrovia, June 10, 2008.
Unity Party (UP), party member. Personal interview, Monrovia, March 17, 2010.
Ex-combatants (individual interviews)*

LURD, female colonel. Personal interview, Monrovia, March 12, 2010.
LURD, general. Personal interview, Monrovia, March 12, 2010.
LURD, junior commander. Personal interview, Monrovia, March 17, 2010.
MODEL, junior commanding general. Personal interview, Monrovia, March 12, 2010.
MODEL, lieutenant. Personal interview, Monrovia, March 12, 2010.
MODEL, lieutenant. Personal interview, Monrovia, March 17, 2010.
NPFL (GOL), battle group commander. Personal interview, Monrovia, March 15, 2010.
Aâ•…Interviewsâ•…177
NPFL (GOL), brigade general. Personal interview, Monrovia, March 19, 2010.
NPFL (GOL), chief of operations. Personal interview, Monrovia, March 10, 2010.
NPFL (GOL), female commanding general. Personal interview, Monrovia, March 15,
2010.
NPFL (GOL), general. Personal interview, Monrovia, March 19, 2010.
NPFL (GOL), rank and file. Personal interview, Monrovia, May 21, 2008.
NPFL (GOL), squad leader. Personal interview, Monrovia, March 17, 2010.
NPFL (GOL), subunit commander. Personal interview, Monrovia, March 17, 2010.
* Note that the titles given here (e.g. “female colonel”) are based on the title reported by the
interviewee. However, practices vary a lot, and actual rank is sometimes hard to determine
simply based on title.
Ex-combatants (group interviews)
Table A.1â•‡ Focus groups
Group Program Area Gender Faction Ethnicity Size Age (x–)
G1a GAA rural male MODELb Krahnb 7 25–30c

G2a GAA rural female MODEL Krahn 5 over 35c
G3 GAA rural male MODEL Krahn 4 25–30 (27)c
G4 GAA rural female MODELb Krahn 6 20–25c
U1d UMCOR rural male MODEL/GOL Kissi 4 19.5
U2 UMCOR rural female GOL Kissib 4 17.5
U3 UMCOR rural male GOL Mixed 5 35
Y1 YMCA urban male LURD/GOL Mixed 6 20
Y2 YMCA urban female GOL Mixed 6 31.5
Y3 YMCA urban male MODEL Kpelleb 6 27.8
F1 University urban male GOL Mixed 5 28.6
F2 High school urban female GOL Giob 6 30.5
F3 High school urban male LURDb Mandingob 8 25.6
L1 None rural male GOL/LURD Kpelleb 5 35.4
L2 None urban male GOL Lomab 6 23.2
Notes
a One non-combatant.
b The group consisted mainly of such individuals, but not exclusively.
c Exact age not given for participants, based on age category (median). If several also gave an exact age, mean in parenthesis.
d Two non-combatants.
Bâ•… Afrobarometer – political involvementâ•…179
Bâ•‡ AFROBAROMETER DATA – POLITICAL INVOLVEMENT
Table B.1â•‡ Problems facing the countrya
Q 56: In your opinion, what are the most important problems facing this country that
government should address?
1st response 2nd response 3rd response Total rank
Education 31.0% (13) 21.4% (9) 17.5% (22)

Unemployment 35.7% (15) 13.5% (17)
Health 9.5% (4) 26.2% (11) 11.9% (15)
Infrastructure 11.9% (5) 7.1% (9)
Management of the economy 16.7% (7) 5.6% (7)
Crime and security 14.3% (6) 4.8% (6)
Farming/agriculture 9.5% (4) 4.0% (5)
Drought 9.5% (4) 3.2% (4)
Total 100.0% (42) 100.0% (42) 100.0% (42) 100.0% (126)b
Notes
a Only the top three problems are displayed from each category. Total rank, however, includes all
ex-combatants who picked an issue as the first, second or third response combined, irrespective of
whether they were included in the first three columns. Number within parenthesis is n.
b Total n is larger than the sum of the column, as not all problems are listed.
Table B.2â•‡ Evaluation of electionsa
Q 71: On the whole, how would you rate the freeness and fairness of the last national
election, held in 2005?
Not free and fair 14.3% (159) 24.3% (9)

Free and fair, with major problems 12.4% (138) 8.1% (3)
Free and fair, but with minor problems 36.5% (407) 24.3% (9)
Completely free and fair 36.9% (411) 43.2% (16)
Total 100.0% (1,115) 100.0% (37)
Note
Table B.3â•‡ Writing a letter to a newspaper or calling a radio showa
Q 62D: In the past year, have you yourself seen any problems with how local government
is run? How often, if at all, did you do any of the following?
(D) Write a letter to a newspaper or call a radio show
Never 77.6% (409) 78.3% (18)

Once or twice 15.2% (80) 4.3% (1)
Several times 5.9% (31) 8.7% (2)
Many times 1.3% (7) 8.7% (2)
Total 100.0% (527) 100.0% (23)
Note
Table B.4â•‡ Attending a community meetinga
please tell me whether you, personally, have done any of these things during the
past year. If not would you do this if you had the chance?
(A) Attended a community meeting

Once or twice 22.6% (261) 33.3% (14)
Several times 33.4% (386) 40.5% (17)
Often 15.7% (181) 7.1% (3)
Total 100.0% (1,154) 100.0% (42)
Note
Table B.5â•‡ Contacting religious leadersa
Q 27: During the past year, how often have you contacted any of the following persons
about some important problem or to give your views?
(A) A religious leader
Never 49.7% (576) 5.1% (2)

Only once 19.4% (225) 15.4% (6)
A few times 18.6% (215) 35.9% (14)
Often 12.2% (142) 43.6% (17)
Total 100.0% (1,158) 100.0% (39)
Note
Table B.6â•‡ Voice heard between electionsa
Q 74: How easy or difficult is it for an ordinary person to have his or her voice heard
between elections?
Very difficult 42.1% (474) 38.1% (16)

Somewhat difficult 22.5% (253) 35.7% (15)
Somewhat easy 19.4% (219) 16.7% (7)
Very easy 16.0% (180) 9.5% (4)
Total 100.0% (1,126) 100.0% (42)
Note
Câ•… Afrobarometer – antagonismâ•…181
Câ•‡ AFROBAROMETER DATA – ANTAGONISM
Table C.1â•‡ Corruption: representatives to National Legislaturea
Q 50B: How many of the following do you think are involved in corruption, or haven’t
you heard enough about them to say?
Representatives to the National Legislatures
None 5.8% (63) 5.0% (2)

Some of them 51.1% (559) 55.0% (22)
Most of them 27.8% (304) 30.0% (12)
All of them 15.4% (168) 10.0% (4)
Total 100.0% (1,094) 100.0% (40)
Note
Table C.2â•‡ Question actions of leaders vs. respect authoritya
Q 16: Let’s talk for a moment about the kind of society we would like to have in this
country. Which of the following statements is closest to your view? Choose
statement (1) or statement (2).
(1) Citizens should be more active in questioning the actions of their leaders
(2) In our country, citizens should show more respect for authority
Total 100.0% (1,154) 100.0% (42)
Note
Dâ•‡ AFROBAROMETER DATA – TOLERANCE OF DISSENT
Table D.1â•‡ Free to say what you thinka
Q 15: In this country, how free are you:

(A) To say what you think?
Not at all free 4.1% (47) 0.0% (0)

Not very free 11.0% (127) 7.5% (3)
Somewhat free 20.4% (235) 17.5% (7)
Completely free 64.5% (743) 75.0% (30)
Total 100.0% (1,152) 100.0% (40)
Note
Table D.2â•‡ Free to choose who to vote fora
Q 15: In this country, how free are you:

(C) To choose who to vote for?
Not at all free 1.6% (18) 0.0% (0)

Not very free 4.4% (51) 2.4% (1)
Somewhat free 12.3% (142) 4.9% (2)
Completely free 81.7% (942) 92.7% (38)
Total 100.0% (1,153) 100.0% (41)
Note
Table D.3â•‡ Political parties create divisiona
Q 32: Which of the following statements is closest to your view?

(1) Political parties create division and confusion: it is therefore unnecessary to have
many political parties in Liberia.
(2) Many political parties are needed to make sure that Liberians have real choices in
who governs them.
Agree with neither 0.7% (8) 0.0% (0)
Total 100.0% (1,150) 100.0% (43)b
Notes
ex-combatants.
Dâ•… Afrobarometer – tolerance of dissentâ•…183
Table D.4â•‡ Opposition parties should criticize the governmenta
Q 34: Which of the following statements is closest to your view?

(1) Opposition parties should regularly examine and criticize government policies
and actions
(2) Opposition parties should concentrate on cooperating with government and
helping it develop the country
Agree with neither 0.2% (2) 0.0% (0)
Total 100.0% (1,150) 100.0% (42)
Note
a Chi-square =6.001, df = 4, p-value = 0.199. Number within parenthesis is n.
Table D.5â•‡ Political competition leads to violencea
Q 45: In your opinion, in this country:

(A) Does competition between political parties lead to violent conflict?
Never 19.7% (221) 14.3% (6)

Rarely 26.5% (297) 23.8% (10)
Often 33.4% (375) 50.0% (21)
Always 20.4% (229) 11.9% (5)
Total 100.0% (1,122) 100.0% (42)
Note
a Chi-square =5.444, df = 3, p-value = 0.142. Number within parenthesis is n.
Table D.6â•‡ Cause of conflicta
Q 75A: Over what sort of problems do violent conflict most often arise between different
groups in this country?
Land ownership, distribution and boundaries 20.9% (716) 26.0% (33)

Ethnic/tribal differences 13.3% (458) 17.3% (22)
Economic issues, e.g., competition for jobs, loans 14.8% (509) 15.7% (20)
and debts
Religion 7.5% (257) 8.7% (11)
Interpersonal or family matters, including personal 8.3% (286) 8.7% (11)
behavior
Politics, including political party or leadership 8.3% (286) 7.1% (9)
disputes
Social problems (e.g. alcohol, drugs, prostitution) 7.8% (266) 6.3% (8)
Inheritance or personal property disputes 5.9% (201) 4.7% (6)
Traditional leadership disputes 5.5% (189) 3.1% (4)
Crime 5.9% (201) 1.6% (2)
Animals or livestock 1.8% (62) 0.8% (1)
Total 100.0% (3,431) 100.0% (127)
Note
a Pooled for 1st, 2nd and 3rd answers. Number within parenthesis is n.
Eâ•… Afrobarometer – inclusionâ•…185
Eâ•‡ AFROBAROMETER DATA – INCLUSION
Table E.1â•‡ Political influence of ethnic groupa
Q 81: Think about the condition of [respondent’s ethnic group]. Do they have less, the
same, or more influence in politics than other groups in this country?
Public Mandingo
Much more 3.6% (41) 0.0% (0)

More 7.8% (89) 4.2% (1)
Same 48.5% (550) 29.2% (7)
Less 32.6% (370) 45.8% (11)
Much less 7.4% (84) 20.8% (5)
Total 100.0% (1,134) 100.0% (24)
Note
Table E.2â•‡ Ethnic group treated unfairlya
Q 82: How often are [respondent’s ethnic group] treated unfairly by the government?
Public Mandingo
Never 63.4% (703) 33.3% (8)

Sometimes 26.2% (290) 45.8% (11)
Often 3.9% (43) 4.2% (1)
Always 6.5% (72) 16.7% (4)
Total 100.0% (1,108) 100.0% (24)
Note
Table E.3â•‡ Economic conditions of ethnic groupa
Q 80: Think about the condition of [respondent’s ethnic group]. Are their economic
conditions worse, the same as, or better than other groups in this country?
Public Mandingo
Much better 5.0% (58) 8.3% (2)

Better 15.8% (182) 16.7% (4)
Same 56.8% (656) 50.0% (12)
Worse 19.3% (223) 20.8% (5)
Much worse 3.0% (35) 4.2% (1)
Total 100.0% (1,154) 100.0% (24)
Note
Table E.4â•‡ Nationality vs. ethnicitya
Q 83: Let us suppose that you had to choose between being a Liberian and being a
[respondent’s ethnic group]. Which of the following statements best expresses
your feelings?
Public Mandingo
I feel only respondent ethnic group 2.7% (32) 4.2% (1)

I feel more respondent ethnic group than Liberian 7.6% (89) 4.2% (1)
I feel equally Liberian and respondent ethnic group 65.0% (760) 66.7% (16)
I feel more Liberian than respondent ethnic group 8.0% (93) 12.5% (3)
I feel only Liberian 16.7% (195) 12.5% (3)
Total 100.0% (1,169) 100.0% (24)
Note
Table E.5â•‡ Economic conditions of ethnic groupa
Q 80: Think about the condition of [respondent’s ethnic group]. Are their economic
conditions worse, the same as, or better than other groups in this country?
Much better 4.8% (55) 11.6% (5)

Better 16.1% (183) 9.3% (4)
Same 56.7% (644) 55.8% (24)
Worse 19.4% (220) 20.9% (9)
Much worse 3.0% (34) 2.3% (1)
Total 100.0% (1,136) 100.0% (43)b
Note
ex-combatants.
Table E.6â•‡ Political influence of ethnic groupa
Q 81: Think about the condition of [respondent’s ethnic group]. Do they have less, the
same, or more influence in politics than other groups in this country?
Much more 3.7% (41) 0.0% (0)

More 7.8% (87) 7.3% (3)
Same 48.5% (542) 36.6% (15)
Less 32.4% (362) 46.3% (19)
Much less 7.7% (86) 9.8% (4)
Total 100.0% (1,118) 100.0% (41)
Note
Select bibliography
Akokpari, John, and Elisabete Azevedo. 2007. “Post-Conflict Elections in Africa: Liberia
and Guinea-Bissau in Comparative Perspective.” African Journal of International
Affairs 10(1 & 2 ): 73–92.
Allport, Alan. 2009. Demobbed: Coming home after the Second World War. New Haven,
CT: Yale University Press.
Anderson, Christopher J, and Silvia M Mendes. 2005. “Learning to Lose: Election Outcomes,
Democratic Experience and Political Protest Potential.” British Journal of Political Science
36(1): 91–111.
Baaré, Anton. 2006. “An Analysis of Transitional Reintegration.” In Stockholm Initiative
on Disarmament Demobilisation Reintegration: Background Studies, ed. Ministry for
Foreign Affairs, pp. 17–53. Stockholm: The Swedish Government Offices.
Western Democracies. Beverly Hills, CA: Sage Publications.
Batty, Fodei. 2011. “Do Ethnic Groups Retain Homogenous Preferences in African Politics?
Evidence from Sierra Leone and Liberia.” African Studies Review 54(1): 117–43.
Belloni, Roberto. 2001. “Civil society and peacebuilding in Bosnia and Herzegovina.”
Berdal, Mats R, and David H Ucko. 2009. Reintegrating Armed Groups After Conflict:
Politics, violence and transition. Abingdon, UK, and New York: Routledge.
Berman, Sheri. 1997. “Civil Society and the Collapse of the Weimar Republic.” World
Politics 49(3): 401–29.
Bloor, Michael, Jane Frankland, Michelle Thomas, and Kate Robson. 2001. Focus groups
in social research. London and Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Publications.
46(1): 33–55.
Bøås, Morten, and Ingunn Bjørkhaug. 2010. “DDRed in Liberia: Youth Remarginalisation
or Reintegration?” MICROCON Research Working Paper (28).
Bøås, Morten, and Mats Utas. forthcoming. “The Political Landscape of Post-War Liberia:
Historical dividing lines and the 2011 elections.” Africa Today.
Bøås, Morten. 2005. “The liberian civil war: new war/old war?” Global Society 19(1):
73–88.
188â•… Select bibliography
Bøås, Morten. 2013. “Youth agency in the ‘violent life-worlds’ of Kono District (Sierra
Leone), Voinjama (Liberia) and Northern Mali: ‘tactics’ and imaginaries.” Conflict,
Security & Development 13(5): 611–30.
Bohman, James. 2003. “Reflexive public deliberation: Democracy and the limits of Pluralism.”
Philosophy and Social Criticism 29(1): 85–105.
Brady, Henry E. 1999. “Political Participation.” In Measures of Political Attitudes, eds.
J. P. Robinson, P. R. Shaver and L. S. Wrightsman, pp. 737–801. San Diego, CA: Academic
Press.
Bratton, Michael, and Beatrice Liatto-Katundu. 1994. “A Focus Group Assessment of
Political Attitudes in Zambia.” African Affairs 93(373): 535–63.
Bratton, Michael, and Carolyn Logan. 2006. “Voters but not yet Citizens: The Weak
Demand for Political Accountability in Africa’s unclaimed Democracies.” Afrobarometer
Working Papers (63).
Bratton, Michael, and Nicolas van de Walle. 1997. Democratic Experiments in Africa:
Regime Transitions in Comparative Perspective. Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press.
Impact of Globalization and Civil Society on Media–Government Relations. Trenton,
NJ: Africa World Press.
Chabal, Patrick, and Jean-Pascal Daloz. 1999. Africa Works: Disorder as Political
Instrument. Oxford: The International African Institute, James Currey and Indiana
University Press.
Christensen, Maya M, and Mats Utas. 2008. “Mercenaries of democracy: The ‘Politricks’
107(429): 515–39.
Cohen, Jean L. 1999. “Changing Paradigms of Citizenship and the Exclusiveness of the
Demos.” International Sociology 14(3): 245–68.
Craig, Stephen C, Richard G Niemi, and Glenn E Silver. 1990. “Political Efficacy and
Trust: A Report on the NES Pilot Study Items.” Political Behavior 12(3): 289–314.
Craig, Stephen C. 1979. “Efficacy, Trust, and Political Behavior – an Attempt to Resolve a
Lingering Conceptual Dilemma.” American Politics Quarterly 7(2): 225–39.
Dahl, Robert A. 1971. Polyarchy: Participation and Opposition. New Haven, CT, and London:
Dahl, Robert A. 1989. Democracy and Its Critics. New Haven, CT, and London: Yale
University Press.
Dalton, Russell J. 2000. “Citizen Attitudes and Political Behavior.” Comparative Political
Studies 33(6/7): 912–40.
Dalton, Russell J. 2008. “Citizenship Norms and the Expansion of Political Participation.”
Darby, John, and Roger Mac Ginty. 2003. Contemporary peacemaking: conflict, violence
and peace processes. New York: Palgrave Macmillan.
Darby, John. 2006. Violence and reconstruction. Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame
Press.
d’Azevedo, Warren L. 1994. “Phantoms of the Hinterland: The ‘Mandingo’ Presence In
Early Liberian Accounts.” Liberian Studies Journal XIX(2): 197–242.
Select bibliographyâ•…189
Denissen, Marieke. 2010. “Reintegrating Ex-Combatants into Civilian Life: The Case of
the Paramilitaries in Colombia.” Peace & Change 35(2): 328–52.
Dolo, Emmanuel. 1996. Democracy versus dictatorship: The Quest for Freedom and Justice
in Africa’s Oldest Republic – Liberia. Lanham, MD: University Press of America.
Du Toit, Andries. 1993. “The Micro-Politics of Paternalism: the Discourses of Management
and Resistance on South African Fruit and Wine Farms.” Journal of Southern African
Studies 19(2): 314–336.
Ekman, Joakim. 2009. “Political Participation and Regime Stability: A Framework for
Analyzing Hybrid Regimes.” International Political Science Review 30(1): 7–31.
Affairs 94(375): 165–97.
Dimension of an African Civil War. Second edn. New York: New York University
Press.
Englander, David. 1994. “Soldiers and Social Reform in the First and Second World Wars.”
Historical Research 67(164): 318–26.
Erikson, Robert S, and Laura Stoker. 2011. “Caught in the Draft: The Effects of Vietnam
Draft Lottery Status on Political Attitudes.” American Political Science Review 105(2):
221–37.
Fine, Gary Alan. 1991. “On the Macrofoundations of Microsociology – Constraint and the
Exterior Reality of Structure.” Sociological Quarterly 32(2): 161–77.
Finkel, Steven E, Lee Sigelman, and Stan Humphries. 1999. “Democratic Values and Political
Tolerance.” In Measures of Political Attitudes, eds. J. P. Robinson, P. R. Shaver and
L. S. Wrightsman, pp. 203–96. San Diego, CA: Academic Press.
Finkel, Steven E. 1985. “Reciprocal Effects of Participation and Political Efficacy – a
Panel Analysis.” American Journal of Political Science 29(4): 891–913.
Fujii, Lee Ann. 2010. “Shades of truth and lies: Interpreting testimonies of war and
violence.” Journal of Peace Research 47(2): 231–41.
Greenstein, Lewis J. 1978. “Impact of Military Service in World-War-I on Africans – Nandi
of Kenya.” Journal of Modern African Studies 16(3): 495–507.
Guáqueta, Alexandra. 2007. “The way back in: Reintegrating illegal armed groups in
Colombia then and now.” Conflict, Security & Development 7(3): 417–56.
Gubrium, Jaber F, and James A Holstein. 2002. “From the Individual Interview to the
Interview Society.” In Handbook of Interview Research: Context & Method, eds.
J. F. Gubrium and J. A. Holstein, pp. 3–32. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Publications.
Guérin, Daniel, François Petry, and Jean Crête. 2004. “Tolerance, protest and democratic
transition: Survey evidence from 13 post-communist countries.” European Journal of
Political Research 43(3): 371–95.
Hardgrove, Abby V. 2012. Life after Guns: The Life Chances and Trajectories of Ex-
Combatant and Other Post-War Youth in Monrovia, Liberia, Department of Interna-
tional Development, University of Oxford.
Harris, David. 1999. “From ‘warlord’ to ‘democratic’ president: how Charles Taylor won
the 1997 Liberian elections.” The Journal of Modern African Studies 37(3): 431–55.
Hartzell, Caroline A., and Matthew Hoddie. 2007. Crafting peace: power-sharing institutions
and the negotiated settlement of civil wars. University Park: Pennsylvania State
University Press.
Henn, Matt, Mark Weinstein, and Dominic Wring. 2002. “A generation apart? Youth and
political participation in Britain.” British Journal of Politics and International Relations
4(2): 167–92.
Understanding Liberian Ex-Combatant Reintegration.” Washington, DC: United States
Institute of Peace (USIP). Special Report No. 211.
Hoffman, Danny. 2006. “Disagreement: Dissent Politics and the War in Sierra Leone.”
Hoffman, Danny. 2011. “VIOLENCE, JUST IN TIME: War and Work in Contemporary
West Africa.” Cultural Anthropology 26(1): 34–57.
Höglund, Kristine, and Magnus Öberg, eds. 2011. Understanding Peace Research: Methods
and Challenges. London and New York: Routledge.
Höglund, Kristine, Anna K Jarstad, and Mimmi Söderberg Kovacs. 2009. “The predicament
of elections in war-torn societies.” Democratization 16(3): 530–57.
Horowitz, Donald L. 1993. “The Challenge of Ethnic Conflict: Democracy in Divided
Societies.” Journal of Democracy 4(4): 18–38.
Humphreys, Macartan, and Jeremy M Weinstein. 2007. “Demobilization and Reintegration.”
Journal of Conflict Resolution 51(4): 531–67.
Humphreys, Macartan, and Jeremy M Weinstein. 2008. “Who fights? The determinants of
participation in civil war.” American Journal of Political Science 52(2): 436–55.
Hydén, Göran. 1980. Beyond ujamaa in Tanzania: Underdevelopment and an uncaptured
peasantry. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press.
Jarstad, Anna K. 2008. “Power sharing: former enemies in joint government.” In From
War to Democracy: Dilemmas of Peacebuilding, eds. A. K. Jarstad and T. D. Sisk,
pp. 105–33. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Jaye, Thomas. 2002. “War endings and the building of secure post-conflict societies: the
Case of Liberia.” Working Paper Series: Foundation for Security and Development in
Africa (FOSDA).
Jaye, Thomas. 2009. “Transitional Justice and DDR: The Case of Liberia.” International
Center for Transitional Justice.
Jennings, Kathleen M. 2008. “Unclear ends, unclear means: Reintegration in postwar
societies – The case of Liberia.” Global Governance 14(3): 327–45.
Kantor, Ana, and Mariam Persson. 2010. “Understanding Vigilantism: Informal Security
Providers and Security Sector Reform in Liberia.” Stockholm: Folke Bernadotte Academy.
Kaufmann, Andrea. 2013. Social Imaginaries from Intricate Spaces in urban Liberia,
Institute of Social Anthropology, University of Basel.
Kingma, Kees. 2002. “Demobilization, Reintegration and Peacebuilding in Africa.” In
Recovering from civil conflict: reconciliation, peace and development, eds. E. Newman
and A. Schnabel, pp. 181–201. London and Portland, OR: Frank Cass.
Kitzinger, Jenny, and Rosaline S. Barbour, eds. 1999. Developing Focus Group Research:
Politics, Theory, and Practice. London and Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Publications.
Knight, W Andy. 2008. “Disarmament, Demobilization, and Reintegration and Post-
Conflict Peacebuilding in Africa: An Overview.” African Security 1(1): 24–52.
Konneh, Augustine. 1996. “Citizenship at the Margins: Status, Ambiguity, and the
Mandingo of Liberia.” African Studies Review 39(2): 141–54.
Lane, Ruth. 1992. “Political Culture: Residual Category or General Theory.” Comparative
Laufer, Robert S. 1989. “The Aftermath of War: Adult Socialization and Political Develop-
ment.” In Political Learning in Adulthood: A Sourcebook of Theory and Research, ed.
R. S. Siegel, pp. 386–414. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press.
Lemarchand, René. 1989. “African Peasantries, Reciprocity and the Market – the Economy
of Affection Reconsidered.” Cahiers d’Études Africaines 29(1): 33–67.
State Collapse. Durham, NC: Carolina Academic Press.
Lindberg, Staffan I. 2004. “The Democratic Qualities of Competitive Elections: Participation,
Competition and Legitimacy in Africa.” Commonwealth & Comparative Politics 42(1):
61–105.
Linz, Juan, and Alfred Stepan. 1996. Problems of democratic transition and consolidation:
southern Europe, South America, and post-communist Europe. Baltimore, MD: Johns
Linz, Juan, and Alfred Stepan. 1996. “Toward Consolidated Democracies.” Journal of
Democracy 7(2): 14–33.
Logan, Carolyn, and Michael Bratton. 2006. “The Political Gender Gap in Africa: Similar
Attitudes, Different Behaviors “ Afrobarometer Working Papers(58).
Lyons, Terrence. 1999. Voting for Peace: Postconflict Elections in Liberia. Washington,
DC: Brookings Institution Press.
Lyons, Terrence. 2004. “Post-conflict elections and the process of demilitarizing politics:
the role of electoral administration.” Democratization 11(3): 36–62.
Maclay, Christopher, and Alpaslan Özerdem. 2010. “‘Use’ Them or ‘Lose’ Them: Engaging
Liberia’s Disconnected Youth through Socio-political Integration.” International Peace-
keeping 17(3): 343–60.
Marås Sindre, Gyda. 2011. Rebel Politics and the Politics of Peace, Department of Political
Science, University of Oslo.
Marcus, George E, W Russell Neuman, and Michael MacKuen. 2000. Affective Intelligence
and Political Judgment. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
McKay, Susan. 2004. “Reconstructing Fragile Lives: Girls’ Social Reintegration in Northern
Uganda and Sierra Leone.” Gender and Development 12(3): 19–30.
McMullin, Jaremey R. 2013. “Integration or separation? The stigmatisation of ex-combatants
after war.” Review of International Studies 39(2): 385–414.
Metsola, Lalli. 2006. “‘Reintegration’ of ex-combatants and Former Fighters: a lens
into state formation and citizenship in Namibia.” Third World Quarterly 27(6):
1119–35.
Metsola, Lalli. 2010. “The Struggle Continues? The Spectre of Liberation, Memory Politics
and ‘War Veterans’ in Namibia.” Development and Change 41(4): 589–613.
Mettler, Suzanne. 2005. Soldiers to citizens: the G.I. bill and the making of the greatest
generation. Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press.
Mitton, Kieran. 2008. “Engaging disengagement: The political reintegration of Sierra
Leone’s Revolutionary United Front.” Conflict, Security & Development 8(2): 193–222.
Pennsylvania Press.
Moran, Mary H. 2010. “Gender, Militarism, and Peace-Building: Projects of the Postconflict
Moment.” Annual Review of Anthropology 39: 261–74.
Moran, Mary. 2012. “Our Mothers Have Spoken: Synthezing Old and New Forms of Women’s
Political Authority in Liberia.” Journal of International Women’s Studies 13(4): 51–66.
Morgan, David L, ed. 1993. Successful Focus Groups: Advancing the State of the Art. Vol.
156. Newbury Park: Sage Publications.
Morgan, David L. 1997. Focus Groups as Qualitative Research. Second edn. Thousands
Oaks, CA: Sage Publications.
Mouffe, Chantal. 2000. “Politics and Passions: the Stakes of Democracy.” Ethical Perspectives
7(2–3): 146–50.
Mousseau, Demet Yalcin. 2001. “Democratizing with ethnic divisions: A source of conflict?”
Muggah, Robert, ed. 2009. Security and Post-Conflict Reconstruction: Dealing with Fighters
in the Aftermath of War. London and New York: Routledge.
Muggah, Robert. 2004. “The anatomy of disarmament, demobilisation and reintegration in
the Republic of Congo.” Conflict, Security & Development 4(1): 21–37.
Muggah, Robert. 2005. “No Magic Bullet: A Critical Perspective on Disarmament, Demo-
bilization and Reintegration (DDR) and Weapons Reduction in Post-conflict Contexts.”
The Round Table 94(379): 239–52.
Nilsson, R Anders. 2005. Reintegrating Ex-Combatants in Post-Conflict Societies. Stock-
holm: SIDA.
Nilsson, R Anders. 2008. Dangerous Liaisons. Why Ex-Combatants Return to Violence –
Cases from the Republic of Congo and Sierra Leone, Department of Peace and Conflict
Nussio, Enzo. 2011. Understanding Ex-Combatants: Central Themes in the Lives of
Former Paramilitaries in Colombia, Graduate School of Business Administration, Eco-
nomics, Law and Social Sciences (HSG), University of St. Gallen, St. Gallen.
Nussio, Enzo. 2012. “Emotional Legacies of War Among Former Colombian Paramilitaries.”
Peace & Conflict: Journal of Peace Psychology 18(4): 369–83.
O’Brien, Donal B Cruise. 1999. “Does Democracy require an Opposition Party? Implications
of some recent African Experience.” In The Awkward Embrace: One party domination
and democracy, eds. H. Giliomee and C. Simkins, pp. 319–36. Amsterdam and Cape
“Tuning out or left out? Participation and non-participation among young people.”
Contemporary Politics 9(1): 45–61.
Özerdem, Alpaslan. 2012. “A re-conceptualisation of ex-combatant reintegration: ‘social
reintegration’ approach.” Conflict, Security & Development 12(1): 51–73.
Paes, Wolf-Christian. 2005. “The challenges of disarmament, demobilization and reinte-
gration in Liberia.” International Peacekeeping 12(2): 253–61.
Paluck, Elizabeth L, and Donald P Green. 2009. “Deference, Dissent, and Dispute Resolu-
tion: An Experimental Intervention Using Mass Media to Change Norms and Behavior
in Rwanda.” American Political Science Review 103(4): 622–44.
Paris, Roland. 2004. At War’s End: Building Peace After Civil Conflict. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press.
Platt, Matthew B. 2008. “Participation for What? A Policy-motivated Approach to Political
Activism.” Political Behavior 30(3): 391–413.
Porto, J Gomes, Imogen Parsons, and Chris Alden. 2007. From Soldiers to Citizens: The
Social, Economic and Political Reintegration of UNITA Ex-Combatants. Pretoria:
Institute for Security Studies.
Pugel, James. 2007. “What the Fighters Say: A Survey of Ex-Combatants in Liberia
February–March 2006.” Monrovia: UNDP.
Reilly, Ben. 2001. Democracy in Divided Societies: Electoral Engineering for Conflict
Management. Cambridge (UK) and New York: Cambridge University Press.
Reno, William S. 2007. “Liberia: The LURDs of the new church.” In African guerrillas:
raging against the machine, eds. M. Bøås and K. C. Dunn, pp. 69–80. Boulder, CO:
Lynne Rienner Publishers.
Publishers.
Reno, William. 2008. “Anti-corruption Efforts in Liberia: Are they Aimed at the Right
Targets?” International Peacekeeping 15(3): 387–404.
Robinson, John P., Jerrold G. Rusk, and Kendra B. Head. 1969. Measures of political atti-
tudes. Ann Arbor: Survey Research Center, Institute for Social Research.
Roeder, Philip G., and Donald S. Rothchild, eds. 2005. Sustainable peace: power and
democracy after civil wars. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press.
Rustow, Dankwart A. 1970. “Transitions to Democracy: Toward a Dynamic Model.”
Comparative Politics 2(3): 337–63.
Sartori, Giovanni. 1997. “Understanding Pluralism.” Journal of Democracy 8(4): 58–69.
Schafer, Jessica. 1998. “‘A baby who does not cry will not be suckled’: AMODEG and
the reintegration of demobilised soldiers.” Journal of Southern African Studies 24(1):
207–22.
Schafer, Jessica. 2007. Soldiers at Peace: Veterans and Society After the Civil War in
Mozambique. Basingstoke, UK: Palgrave Macmillan.
Schaffer, Fredric C. 1998. Democracy in Translation: understanding politics in an
unfamiliar culture. Ithaca, NY, and London: Cornell University Press.
Schlemmer, Lawrence. 1999. “Democracy or Democratic Hegemony: The Future of Political
Pluralism in South Africa.” In The Awkward Embrace: One-party domination and
Smithson, Janet, and Julia Brannen. 2002. “Qualitative methodology in cross-national
research.” In Young Europeans, Work and Family. Futures in transition, eds.
J. Brannen, S. Lewis, A. Nilsen and J. Smithson, pp. 11–29. London and New York:
Routledge.
Smithson, Janet. 2000. “Using and analysing focus groups: limitations and possibilities.”
International Journal of Social Research Methodology 3(2): 103–19.
Söderberg Kovacs, Mimmi. 2008. “When rebels change their stripes: armed insurgents
in post-war politics.” In From War to Democracy: Dilemmas of Peacebuilding,
eds. A. K. Jarstad and T. D. Sisk, pp. 134–156. Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press.
Söderström, Johanna. 2010. “Ex-Combatants at the Polls: Exploring Focus Groups &
Electoral Meaning.” Anthropology Matters 12(1): 1–16.
Söderström, Johanna. 2011. “Dissent and Opposition among Ex-Combatants in Liberia.”
Democratization 18(5): 1146–67.
Söderström, Johanna. 2011. “Focus Groups: Safety in numbers?” In Understanding Peace
Research: Methods and Challenges, eds. K. Höglund and M. Öberg, pp. 146–64.
New York and London: Routledge.
Söderström, Johanna. 2013. “The concept of Political Reintegration in current peace
research.” Department of Government, Working Paper Series (5).
Söderström, Johanna. 2013. “The Political Consequences of Reintegration Programmes in
Current Peace-building: A Framework for Analysis.” Conflict, Security & Development
13(1): 87–116.
Söderström, Johanna. 2013. “Second time around: Ex-combatants at the polls in Liberia.”
The Journal of Modern African Studies 51(3): 409–33.
Sullivan, John L, and John E Transue. 1999. “The Psychological Underpinnings of Democ-
racy: A Selective Review of Research on Political Tolerance, Interpersonal Trust, and
Social Capital.” Annual Review of Psychology 50: 625–50.
Sullivan, John L, James Piereson, and George E Marcus. 1982. Political Tolerance and
American Democracy. Chicago and London: The University of Chicago Press.
Tamagini, Andrea, and Teresa Krafft. 2010. “Strategic Approaches to Reintegration:
Lessons Learned from Liberia.” Global Governance 16(1): 13–20.
Teigen, Jeremy M. 2006. “Enduring effects of the uniform: Previous military experience
and voting turnout.” Political Research Quarterly 59(4): 601–7.
Teorell, Jan, Mariano Torcal, and José Ramón Montero. 2007. “Political Participation:
Mapping the terrain.” In Citizenship and Involvement in European Democracies:
A Comparative Analysis, eds. J. W. van Deth, J. R. Montero and A. Westholm, pp.
334–57. Abingdon, UK: Routledge.
Torjesen, Stina, and S. Neil MacFarlane. 2007. “R before D: the case of post conflict
reintegration in Tajikistan.” Conflict, Security & Development 7(2): 311–32.
Turner, Brandon P. 2010. “John Stuart Mill and the Antagonistic Foundation of Liberal
Politics.” The Review of Politics 72(1): 25–53.
Ulbig, Stacy G, and Carolyn L Funk. 1999. “Conflict Avoidance and Political Participation.”
Political Behavior 21(3): 265–82.
UN DDR Resource Centre. 2006. “Integrated Disarmament, Demobilization and Reinte-
gration Standards (IDDRS).”
Utas, Mats, ed. 2012. African Conflicts and Informal Power: Big Men and Networks.
London: Zed Books.
Utas, Mats. 2003. Sweet Battlefields. Youth and the Liberian Civil War, Cultural Anthro-
Utas, Mats. 2008. “Abject Heroes: Marginalised Youth, Modernity and Violent Pathways
of the Liberian Civil War.” In Years of Conflict: adolescence, political violence and
displacement, ed. J. Hart, pp. 111–38. New York and Oxford: Berghahn.
Valentino, Nicholas A, Ted Brader, Eric W Groenendyk, Krysha Gregorowicz, and Vincent
L Hutchings. 2011. “Election Night’s Alright for Fighting: The Role of Emotions in
Political Participation.” The Journal of Politics 73(1): 156–70.
Verba, Sidney, and Norman H Nie. 1972. Participation in America: Political Democracy
and Social Equality. New York: Harper & Row.
Verba, Sidney, Kay Lehman Schlozman, and Henry E Brady. 1995. Voice and Equality:
Civic Voluntarism in American Politics. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Verba, Sidney, Norman H Nie, and Jae-on Kim. 1978. Participation and Political Equality:
A Seven-Nation Comparison. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press.
Weaver, Jerry L. 1969. “Political Style of the Guatemalan military elite.” Studies in
Comparative International Development 5(4): 63–81.
Weldon, Steven A. 2006. “The Institutional Context of Tolerance for Ethnic Minorities: A
Comparative, Multilevel Analysis of Western Europe.” American Journal of Political
Science 50(2): 331–49.
Wolf, Sonja. 2009. “Subverting Democracy: Elite Rule and the Limits to Political Par-
ticipation in Post-War El Salvador.” Journal of Latin American Studies 41(3): 429–65.
Lewiston, NY: Edwin Mellen Press.
Zahar, Marie-Jöelle 2006. “Political Violence in Peace Processes: Voice, Exit, and Loyalty
Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press.
Index
Note: References to tables are in bold type.

abandonment, feelings of 17, 59, 87 Berman, S. 56
accountability 60, 63 Bessel, R. 166
Afrobarometer data: antagonism 181; civil Beveridge, Sir W. 1
war 30; inclusion 185–6; political Bird, J. 100
involvement 179–80; tolerance of Blattman, C. 2, 4, 55, 127, 166
dissent 182–4; use of 40, 46, 162 Blaug, R. 56
alienation 88, 158, 170 Bleck, J. 125
Allport, A. 1 Bledsoe, C. 97
American Bar Association’s Rule of Law Bloor, M. 37, 40, 43, 45
Initiative 134 Bøås, M. 4, 5, 29, 33, 60, 84, 87, 133,
American Colonization Society (ACS) 31, 136, 150
134, 135, 142 Boëne, B. 166
Americo-Liberians 31, 134–5, 142, Bohman, J. 114, 120
146, 150 Bolten, C. 4, 95, 128, 167
antagonism: Afrobarometer data 181; Bound, J. 168
concept of 82; importance of 83; see Brady, H. 56, 57, 58
also expressed antagonism Brannen, J. 42
apathy 73, 76, 158 Bratton, M. 16, 57, 63, 97, 114
Armed Forces of Liberia (AFL) 31, 69 Brown, H. 100
armed groups 7, 8, 9; justifications for Bugnion, C. 30
political reintegration 9–10; research Bureau of Democracy, Human Rights and
into political reintegration of 12; Labor 35, 98
transformation into political parties 13 Burrowes, C. 31, 68, 116, 133, 134, 144
arms, willingness to take up 56, 70, 85 Burton, M. 10
Bader, V. 120, 137 campaign promises 62, 87, 99, 101

Barbour, R. 38, 39, 40 campaigning and canvassing 63–4
Barnes, S. 14, 57 Canaday, M. 168
Barr, A. 61 Caramés, A. 2
Basini, H. 35 categorization of ex-combatants 3, 4, 5,
Batty, F. 35 167–8
behavioral options (political) 88–90, Chabal, P. 57, 58, 61
90–91 Chan, J. 37
Belloni, R. 56 child combatants 30
Bennich-Björkman, L. 133, 150 Christensen, M. 2, 4, 12, 16, 38, 167
Berdal, M. 12 Cibelli, K. 30
Berghof Foundation 12 Cicourel, A. 39
Indexâ•…197
citizen on call 56, 169 dissent: expressions of 116; see also
citizenship: being a good citizen 144, 145, tolerance of dissent
146, 151; and demos 137, 138; dissenting consensus 120
principles of access to 138–40, 150, Doe, S. 31, 135, 141
161; right to 133–4, 137; see also Dolo, E. 32, 76, 98, 115
demos; ethnicity Drury, J. 37
civil liberties score 115, 116 Dryzek, J. 57
Cohen, J. 136, 137 Du Toit, A. 82, 97
Collier, P. 3
community meetings, attending 180 Economic Community of West African
concern about returning soldiers 1–2 States Monitoring Group (ECOMOG) 31
Congo 134, 146 economy of affection 163
Congress for Democratic Change (CDC) 35 efficacy and God 71–3, 159
consensus-orientated ideals 120 elections 62–3, 74; elections (1997) 32;
constitution 133, 134, 139, 140, 146, elections (2005) 32, 35, 115; elections
147, 149 (2011) 35, 115; electoral experiences
corruption 35, 97, 98, 181 16, 96, 107, 158; freeness and fairness
Coulter, C. 4 of elections 179; questioning the
Crabtree, B. 40, 45 legitimacy of 95–6, 158
Craig, S. 57, 71 elite antagonism 96–7; responsibilities
Cunningham-Burley, S. 39, 40 of leaders 99–101; self-interest and
cynicism 16, 76, 159 deceit 97–9
Ellis, S. 3, 4, 29, 32, 33, 73, 133, 135,
Dahl, R. 114, 115, 137 136, 150
Daloz, J.-P. 57, 58, 61 emotional investment in Liberia 151, 161
Dalton, R. 56, 57 emotional logic in politics 6, 18, 107, 163
Darby, J. 4, 9 Engelstad, F. 10
d’Azevedo, W. 135 Englander, D. 2, 4, 166
DDR Programs 2, 3, 4, 13, 34, 35, 84, 85, equality 10, 13, 17, 97, 108, 132, 149,
87, 165, 168, 169 153, 162, 170
De Zeeuw, J. 12 Erikson, R. 166
Dean, E. 4, 166 Eriksson, C. 40
degree of political involvement of ethnicity 132–3; conflict 136;
ex-combatants 14, 16 discrimination 143, 143, 185; economic
deliberation 67, 92, 93 conditions of ethnic groups 185, 186;
democracy: failure as a democracy ethnic groups and inclusion 140–42,
(Liberia) 91–3, 107 150, 185, 186; ethnic groups in Liberia
democratization 35, 74, 114, 126, 136, 134, 135, 136, 138; ethnic polarization
137, 150, 161–2 135; identities used for mobilization
demos 17, 132, 133, 136; citizenship, and 136; and nationality 140, 143, 143,
137, 138; delineation of 137; as 144, 186; role of ethnicity during the
prerequisite for democracy / war 32–3
democratization 136, 137; right to ex-combatants and the general public:
participation 137–8; see also attitudes and beliefs 116–18; see also
citizenship; ethnicity Afrobarometer data
Denazification Program 11–12 expressed antagonism 16–17, 106–9,
Denissen, M. 14 159, 162; behavioral options 88–90,
Diamint, R. 11 90–91; corruption 181; differences
Diamond, L. 16 between particular groups 108; elite
Disarmament, Demobilization and antagonism 96–101; ex-combatants’
Reintegration (DDR) Programs 2, 3, 4, relationship with central political
13, 34, 35, 84, 85, 87, 165, 168, 169 figures 101–6; institutional antagonism
disengagement in politics 76, 170 91–6; peace and democracy,
198â•… Index
implications for 170–71; questioning / Hardgrove, A. 4, 33, 84, 87, 97, 99, 101
respect of authority 181; see also Harrington, B. 4, 36, 37, 43
antagonism; self-perception of Harris, D. 11, 96, 136
ex-combatants Hartzell, C. 132, 136, 150
Hatløy, A. 4, 29, 33, 60, 87, 133, 136, 150
factional differences 167 “heartmen” 73
Farquhar, C. 38 Henn, M. 57, 76
female combatants 30, 31 Herz, J. 12
Fine, G. 4, 36, 37, 43, 45 hierarchy: and disengagement in politics
Finkel, S. 17, 73, 114 76; ex-combatants’ subordinate position
focus group interviews 36–7, 41; in society 84–8; hierarchical
advantages of 37–40; analysis of data understanding of politics 17, 36, 64, 65,
44–5; combining with other data 45–6; 73, 82, 106, 107, 108, 161; see also
group composition 40, 41, 42, 178; elite antagonism
recruitment 42–4; safety 43–4 Higley, J. 10
Fontana, A. 38, 39 Hill, R. 33, 34, 70, 84, 133, 136
food prices 59, 60, 88–9, 101–2, 103, Hoddie, M. 132, 136, 150
171–2 Hoffman, D. 5, 84, 97
Forcade, O. 166 Högbladh, S. 13
forgiveness 94, 104, 105 Höglund, K. 38, 114, 115
fragility of the political system 93–5 Holmberg, S. 38, 39
Frankland, J. 45 Holstein, J. 37
Freedom House 35, 115, 116, 116 Horowitz, D. 132, 137
freedom of expression 108, 115, 116, 117, Hotspot assessments 5
117, 118, 119, 120 Houreld, K. 95
freedom of the press 116, 116 Hudak, T. 167
freedom to choose who to vote for 117, 182 Human Development Index (HDI) 35
Frey, J. 38, 39 Humphreys, M. 3, 4, 15
Fuest, V. 4, 30 Hydén, G. 163
Fujii, L. 3, 38, 39
Funk, C. 74 ICG 136
ID-card 84, 86
García Durán, M. 12 inclusion 17, 132–3, 149–53, 161, 162;
Gberie, L. 35 access to power/ decision-making
gender roles: combatant experience, 147–9, 151, 152, 185, 186; differences
effect of 4 between groups 152; peace and
generational conflict 33 democracy, implications for 171; see
gerontocracy 33, 108, 122 also citizenship; demos; ethnicity
G.I. Bill of Rights 168 individual combatants 7, 8, 9; defining
Gibson, J. 128 political reintegration 13, 14, 15;
Giugni, M. 4 democratic values and norms 14;
Giustozzi, A. 12 justifications for political reintegration
God and efficacy 71–3, 159 10, 13; research into political
Government of Liberia (GOL) 32, 116, reintegration of 14
120, 133, 134 Inglehart, R. 114
Green, D. 37, 43 institutional antagonism 91, 96; failure as
Greenstein, L. 2 a democracy 91–3; fragility of the
Guáqueta, A. 12, 13 political system 93–5; questioning the
Gubrium, J. 37 legitimacy of the elections 95–6
Guérin, D. 126, 128 institutional environment 8, 58–9, 75, 171
international community: role of 66, 75,
Hadjipavlou, M. 5 94, 104, 106, 108
Hansen, M. H. 136 International Crisis Group (ICG) 136
Indexâ•…199
interviews 175–7; see also focus group female combatants 30, 31; generational
interviews conflict 33; motivations for war 33;
IRIN News 95 political culture 36; political elite 31;
political party system 35, 115; role of
Jackson, J. 133 ethnicity during the war 32–3; sexual
Jakobsen, S. F. 3, 35 violence during the war 30; war
Janowitz, M. 10, 11 casualties 30; war
Jarrett, R. 39 historiography 32
Jarstad, A. 9, 132 Liberia Institute of Statistics and
Jaye, T. 30 Geo-Information Services (LISGIS)
Jennings, K. 122 30, 34, 134, 135
Johnson Sirleaf, Ellen 35, 94, 95; Liberians United for Reconciliation and
expressed antagonism 101–3 Democracy (LURD) 5, 32
jus sanguinis 137, 138, 139, 142, 150, 161 Lijphart, A. 132
jus soli 137, 138, 142, 150 Lindberg, S. 61, 97, 114
Linz, J. 114, 132, 137
Kaase, M. 14, 57 local community work 67, 68
Käihkö, I. 9, 12, 97 Lofa 5, 70, 84, 92, 104
Kantor, A. 5 Logan, C. 57, 63
Kaplan, M. 163 Lyons, T. 29, 34
Karlström, M. 125
Kaufmann, A. 168 Macfarlane, S. 12
Kelly, J. 163 McGarry, J. 82
Kingma, K. 14 Mac Ginty, R. 4
Kitzinger, J. 38, 39, 40 McKay, S. 4, 55
Knight, M. 4, 57 Maclay, C. 14
Knöchel Ledberg, S. 11 McMullin, J. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 33, 35, 90,
Knodel, J. 39, 42 166, 168
Konneh, A. 133, 135, 136, 141 Maharaj, M. 12
Krafft, T. 35 Mandingos 32, 33, 121, 133, 134, 135,
Krebs, R. 2, 4, 168 136, 140, 141, 142, 149, 150, 171,
Krueger, R. 38, 39, 45 185–6
Kuenzi, M. 56, 57 Marås Sindre, G. 12, 13
Kymlicka, W. 16 Marcus, G. 163
Marriage, Z. 12
land ownership: and Liberian identity 146 Marx, A. 137
Lane, R. 36 Mayzel, M. 11
language: and Liberian identity 146 media 115; use of as way of contacting
Laub, J. 168 government 66–7, 179
Laufer, R. 4 Mendes, S. 63, 69
Lebanese community 136 Metsola, L. 101, 163, 168
Lee, F. 37 Mettler, S. 168
Lemarchand, R. 163 Micheletti, M. 56, 57
Levely, I. 35 military elite 7, 8, 9: de-integrating
Levitan, L. 36 11–12; justifications for political
Levitt, J. 29, 31, 32, 133, 134, 150 reintegration 9; repercussions of
Liatto-Katundu, B. 16 political reintegration 12; research into
Liberia: child combatants 30; civil war political reintegration of 10–11
29–33; conflict history 29; coup d’état Mill, J. S. 83
31; creation of the Liberian state 31, Monrovia 32, 43, 60, 67, 75, 84, 87, 107,
134, 135; as a democracy 91–3, 107; 108, 142
elections (1997) 32; elections (2005) 32, Montero, J. 58
35, 115; elections (2011) 35, 115; Moor, J. 61
200â•… Index
Moran, M. 3, 4, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 36, 67, patronage 108, 109, 160
68, 73, 76, 103, 133, 135, 136, 138, peacebuilding: ex-combatants’ effect on
150, 151, 160 peace and democracy 169–72;
Morgan, D. 37, 38, 39, 45 expressed antagonism, and 88, 170;
Mouffe, C. 82, 163 impact of peacebuilding measures
Mousseau, D. Y. 56 targeted at ex-combatants 2; inclusion
Movement for Democracy in Liberia 150; political elite 171; political
(MODEL) 32, 42, 108, 127 participation, and 56, 68, 74, 169–70;
Muggah, R. 14, 15 procedural effect of peacebuilding 8,
Mukhopadhyay, D. 11 168–9; social networks 166; see also
Munive, J. 3, 35 Demobilization, Disarmament and
Muslim communities 135 Reintegration Programs; Truth and
Myers, G. 45 Reconciliation Commission
Persson, M. 5
National Democratic Institute (NDI) 96 Peters, K. 100
National Elections Commission (NEC) 115 Petersson, O. 38, 39
National Ex-Combatants’ Peacebuilding Philip, G. 11
Initiative (NEPI) 43 Platt, M. 57
National Patriotic Front of Liberia pluralism 115–16; see also pluralistic
(NPFL) 31, 34 ideals, ex-combatants’ adherence to
National Patriotic Party 32, 115 pluralistic ideals, ex-combatants’ adherence
naturalization 134, 137, 138, 139, 150 to 119, 160; behavior in politics 122–3;
NDI 96 dealing with issues of dissent, 120–22;
NEC 115 professed ideals 119–20; role of the
nepotism 32, 59, 63, 92, 98 opposition 123–6, 160, 183
Nie, N. 56, 57, 67, 74 Podder, S. 14, 84
Niemi, R. 71 policy feedback 169
Nilsson, J. 35 political elite 31; elite antagonism 96–101;
Nilsson, R. 3, 4, 12, 34, 38, 55 peace and democracy, implications
Nindorera, W. 12 for 171
Norman, W. 16 political involvement 55–79; definition 14,
Nussio, E. 84, 163 16: see also political participation
political participation 55–6, 73–7, 158,
Öberg, M. 38 159, 160, 162; campaigning and
O’Brien, D. 114, 125 canvassing 63–4; channel of expression
Old Ma 101, 103 58; church as a channel to influence
Old Pa 103 government 68, 180; community
O’Leary, B. 82 meetings, attending 180; contacting
opposition, role of 123–6, 160, 183 other organisations and deliberation
Oruitemeka, B. 12 66–7; contacting politicians 64, 64, 65;
Osborne, J. 2 definitions of 56–7; degree of political
O’Toole, T. 38, 43, 45, 57 involvement of ex-combatants 14, 16;
Ottati, V. 163 democracy and peace, and 56, 68, 74,
Özerdem, A. 4, 14, 57 169–70; differences between particular
groups 75–6; discussing politics 67;
Pachirat, T. 37 efficacy and God 71, 72–3, 159; equal
Paes, W-C. 30 participation 10, 13; extra-
Pajibo, E. 35 representational channels 65–71, 158;
Paluck, E. 37, 43 freeness and fairness of elections 179;
parental relationship 99–100, 101, 102, identifying problems 59–60, 179; local
103, 106, 107, 108, 158, 160 community work 67, 68; military
Paris, R. 132 service, effect of 2, 4; pressure groups
paternalism 73 67; problems and needs approach 58,
patriotism 144, 145, 146, 151, 152 73–4 ; representational channels 60–65;
Indexâ•…201
right to participation 137–8; violence Remy, S. 12
and protests 68–71, 71, 89–90, 90–91, Reno, W. 11, 32, 35, 98, 136
159; voice heard between elections 180; Report of the Military Governor 12
voting 60, 61, 61–3, 148–9 responsibility: responsibilities of leaders
political parties 35, 115; competition 99–101; societal responsibility 69, 97,
between parties believed to lead to 119, 120, 123, 144, 151, 152, 158,
violent conflict 118, 183; viewed as 160, 164
creating division and confusion 117, returning soldiers, concern about 1–2
118, 182 right to vote 62, 148–9
political reintegration 164–5; components Roeder, P. 132
of 14; concept of 6–7, 157, 164; degree Roll, K. 101, 168
of political involvement of Rothchild, D. 132
ex-combatants 14, 16; explanatory Rowlands, M. 33, 35
factors 165–9; justifications for 9–10; Rustow, D. 120, 136, 137
post–war experiences 166, 168; pre-war
experiences 165; referent objects 7, 8, Safran, W. 137
9, 164; reintegration programs 168–9; saliency of ex-combatant community 37–8
unit of analysis 7, 10, 13; values and Sampson, R. 168
norms that inform political involvement Sanz, E. 2
14, 16, 17; war experiences 165–6; see Sartori, G. 120
also armed groups; individual Sawyer, Amos 61, 146–7
combatants; military elite Schafer, J. 2, 4, 5, 12, 101, 165, 167, 168
political rights score 115, 116 Schaffer, F. 114, 125
politicians: contacting politicians 64, 64, Schatzman, C. 56
65; perceptions of 61, 62, 66, 86, 87, Schedler, A. 114
88, 107, 108, 158, 159, 160; see also Schlemmer, L. 114, 126
elite antagonism Schwartzmantel, J. 56
politics as destructive 88–9 Scott, J. 89
politics of affection 6, 18, 162–4 Seawright, J. 10
Pool, I. 37 Secher, H. 10, 11
Porto, J. 14 Security Council (UN) 30
post-war disappointment 102, 108 Segal, M. 100
Potsdam Agreement 11–12 self-interest and deceit: politicians 97–9
Pouligny, B. 3, 12 self-perception of ex-combatants 83;
powerlessness, sense of 55, 72, 159 behavioral options 88–90, 90–91;
Pratchett, L. 57 subordinate position in society 84–8;
Press, R. 116 see also expressed antagonism
pressure groups 67 Servicemen’s Readjustment Act of 1944
procedural effect of peacebuilding 8, see G.I. Bill of Rights
168–9 settler–indigenous relations 135, 160
Prost, A. 166 sexual violence during the war 30
protests and violence: as form of political Siegel, R. 4
participation 68–71, 71, 89–90, 90–91, 159 Sierra Leone: ethnic groups 140; political
Pugel, J. 15 involvement 2, 16, 75, 167
single-party state: support for 117, 117
Quinn, J. 56 skepticism 76, 170; see also expressed
antagonism
Rakner, L. 125 Skocpol, T. 168
Reilly, B. 132, 150 Smithson, J. 40, 42, 43, 45
Reisinger 36 social acceptance post-war 167
religion: church as a channel to influence social desirability bias 68, 150
government 68, 180; efficacy and God social networks of ex-combatants 4–5, 166–7
71–3, 159; religiousness and Liberian social pact with the state, ex-combatants’
identity 144, 145, 146, 151, 152 84, 85, 86, 90
202â•… Index
societal responsibility 69, 97, 119, 120, Uppsala Conflict Data Program 30
123, 144, 151, 152, 158, 160, 164 Utas, M. 2, 3, 4, 11, 12, 16, 29, 32, 33, 38,
Söderberg Kovacs, M. 9, 12, 13 55, 84, 97, 99, 101, 144, 167
Söderström, J. 7, 35, 38, 44, 87, 96, 115,
126, 168–9 Valentino, N. 163
Stedman, S. 9 values and norms that inform political
Stepan, A. 114, 132, 137 involvement 14, 16; dimensions of 16–17
stigmatization 68, 69, 74, 88, 89, 152, van de Walle, N. 97, 125
167, 170 Van Gunsteren, H. 137
Stimson, H. 1 Verba, S. 15, 56, 57, 74, 76
Stoker, L. 166 Vermeij, L. 100
Stott, C. 37 veterans 1, 2, 4, 85, 166, 167, 168, 169, 170
suffrage 134 victim of violence or political
Sullivan, J. 114, 128 intimidation: fear of 118, 118
Summers-Effler, E. 163 Vietnam war 1, 2, 4, 166, 167
Vinck, P. 30, 60
Tamagini, A. 35 Vines, A. 12
Taylor, Charles 31, 32, 102, 135; violence and protests: as form of political
expressed antagonism 103–5 participation 68–71, 71, 89–90,
Teigen, J. 2 90–91, 159
Teorell, J. 56, 57, 58 violent conflict: problems leading to 118,
Thapar-Björkert, S. 35 183, 184
Themnér, A. 9, 11, 12 Visser, P. 36
tolerance 17 voting 60–63; freedom to choose who to
tolerance of dissent 17, 114–15, 126–8, vote for 117, 182; right to vote 62,
160–61, 162, 182–4; differences 148–9; vote buying 61–2, 63; voter
between groups 127; dissenting turnout 60, 61, 63
consensus 120; peace and democracy,
implications for 171; pluralism 115–16; Waller, W. 1
see also pluralistic ideals, Walter, B. 4, 56, 57, 70, 170
ex-combatants’ adherence to Warren, K. 133
Torcal, M. 58 watermelon politics 167
Torjesen, S. 12 Waterton, C. 37
Toure, A. 4, 33, 67, 68, 133, 136, 150 Weah, George 63, 64, 71, 94, 95, 96, 125;
Transue, J. 114 expressed antagonism 105–6
Truth and Reconciliation Commission weapons, access to 3
(TRC) 11, 29, 30, 31, 35, 94 Weaver, J. 10, 11
Tubman, William 31, 73, 128 Weinstein, J. 3, 4, 15
Turner, B. 83 Weldon, S. 114, 128
Turner, S. 168 West, H. 4, 55
Tursunovic, M. 38 Westholm, A. 71
White, R. 38
Ucko, D. 12, 13 Widmalm, S. 120
Ulbig, S. 74 witchcraft 72–3
UNDP 2, 30, 35 Wolf, S. 10, 11
UNDP Liberia 34 World War I 1, 4, 166, 167
United Liberation Movement of Liberia World War II 1, 11, 168
for Democracy (ULIMO) 31 Wynne, B. 37
United Liberation Movement of Liberia
for Democracy – Kromah faction Yoder, J. 32, 36, 38, 73, 76, 92, 94, 95,
(ULIMO–K) 135 116, 125, 126, 128, 133, 135, 136, 141,
United Nations Mission in Liberia 147, 151, 163, 164
(UNMIL) 30, 34, 35
Unity Party (UP) 35, 115 Zahar, M.-J. 4

Peacebuilding and Ex-Combatants - Political Reintegration in Liberia

Uploaded by

Document Information

Copyright

Available Formats

Share this document

Share or Embed Document

Sharing Options

Did you find this document useful?

Is this content inappropriate?

Copyright:

Available Formats

Peacebuilding and Ex-Combatants - Political Reintegration in Liberia

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

This book examines how ex-combatants in post-war and peacebuilding settings

Johanna Söderström is a postdoctoral researcher at the Department of Government,

The Political Economy of Stabilization Operations, Security

ISBN: 978–1–138–79148–0 (hbk)

‘The political mobilization of former combatants is often perceived as a threat,

‘Rebel soldiering is partially a political activity. However in the aftermath of

‘Söderström’s work moves beyond familiar discussions of patrimonialism and

1 Political reintegration after war 1

2 The case and methodology 29

5 Tolerance of dissent 114

6 Inclusion in the political community 132

7 Understanding and explaining the politics of

â•‹1.1 Post-war political reintegration according to unit of analysis 8

AFL Armed Forces of Liberia

The ex-combatant – villain or victim?

Political reintegration of elites, groups or combatants?

1 research that focuses on the transformation of the military elite to a political

Unit of Analysis Outcome of political Justification Challenges Explanationsa

1 the internal cohesion of the group itself;

The ex-combatants’ relationship with politics

1 the degree of political involvement of the ex-combatants (the extent of their

Outline of the book and argument

Before embarking on a description of the political culture among ex-combatants

Liberia and the civil war

Interviewing ex-combatants in focus groups

Advantages of a socially situated data collection

Group Program Area Gender Faction Ethnicity Size Length Date

G1 GAAa rural male MODELb Krahnb 7 1h 3 min April 2008

Avenues of political participation

Exploring ideas about political participation in Liberia

In connection with this, several also mentioned problems of education: tuition

Participation through representational channels

Table 3.1â•‡ Voting in national electionsa

You voted in the elections 77.2% (894) 95.2% (40)

Campaigning and canvassing

Table 3.2â•‡ Contacting local government officialsa

Never 69.8% (805) 57.1% (24)

Participation outside representational channels

Contacting and deliberating

Table 3.3â•‡ Discuss problems with other people in the communitya

Never 15.3% (81) 34.8% (8)

Violence and protests

Table 3.4â•‡ Use of force or violence for a political causea

Would never do this 86.7% (968) 67.4% (29)

Efficacy and God

He [George Weah] is a citizen. He is a citizen, who is free to take part of

Especially, nothing can go on in this country now, without people saying it

Conclusion: skeptics and believers

the experience of antagonism is fundamental in developing a more robust

1 They expressed antagonism toward the political system and associated

The government of Liberia is fully responsible. […] Look at the Liberian

In some groups, the feeling of abandonment was mainly in relation to candidates

Likewise, participants in group M1 and F3 avoided antagonistic behavior, such

Table 4.1â•‡ Attending a demonstration or protest marcha

Would never do this 76.3% (857) 69.0% (29)

Table 4.2â•‡ Violence never justified vs. sometimes violence necessarya

Fragility of the political system

Because it already happened, so it make people feel bad. It happen, it happen.

Questioning election results

Self-interest and deceit

Corruption was also problematic for these groups, as it was an indication of a

Table 4.3â•‡ Government like a parent vs. an employeea

to deliver on such responsibilities, in the face of the former combatants having

Moderator: Ok. Alright. What does it mean to be a citizen of Liberia? In what