Introduction
At the turn of the millennium the conflict between the government of Sudan (GoS) and Sudan People's Liberation Movement/Army (SPLM/A) had reached stalemate, but both parties still sought victory on the battlefield. A broad gulf separated their positions in peace talks, and external supporters and facilitators of negotiation showed signs of fatigue and disengagement. The momentous Machakos Protocol, signed on 20 July 2002, prepared the ground for the 9 January 2005 Comprehensive Peace Agreement (CPA). Despite imperfect implementation, the CPA has proved surprisingly resilient; an uneasy peace prevailed during the six-year interim period, and in January 2011 a referendum overwhelmingly approved Southern Sudanese secession. The CPA process is not only a significant feature of Sudan's modern history, but is also the cornerstone of the first mutually-agreed secession in Africa.1
Attempts have been made to explain the shift from seemingly endless war to a dynamic peace process. The warring parties' stated explanation is simply war fatigue (cf. Hiteng and Hussein in Simmons and Dixon 2006). The beginning of oil production in Sudan is another factor which is often mentioned but hardly analysed as a peacebuilding factor (Patey 2010; James 2011). Here, the most popular explanation is that the USA, after the September 2001 terrorist attack, bullied the Khartoum regime into an unfavourable agreement (Cockett 2010, Rogier 2005). A more sophisticated theory holds that the conflict could have been solved at any point; and that the agreement reached should be compared to its hypothetical alternatives. John Young suggests, for example, that the international community's prioritising of a quick solution had unfortunate consequences: political opponents of the regime other than the SPLM were excluded from the negotiations, as were Sudan's other conflicts, notably Darfur; and as elaborate as it was, the CPA provided for a ceasefire, not a permanent settlement (Young 2007, Rogier 2005). These explanations insufficiently account for the contingencies of the peace process and the difficulty of developing compromises.
The present analysis is based on both published material and extensive, heterogeneous written and oral sources hitherto largely unused or unavailable.2 An in-depth assessment of the negotiations and the implementation of the CPA requires answers to a number of specific questions: Which factors and circumstances generated a ‘window of opportunity’ to resolve the conflict during 2001–2002? Why did the parties reach agreement over the Machakos Protocol? What led to the direct involvement of the ‘principals’, John Garang and Ali Osman Taha, in negotiations in September 2003? What were the nature and significance of the contributions to the peace process by neighbouring countries – mainly Eritrea, Ethiopia, Kenya and Uganda – and the wider international community led by the ‘troika’ of the USA, Britain and Norway?3 How was the issue of Darfur and reconstruction of Southern Sudan handled during and after the negotiation process? When answering these questions the article emphasises the impact of the Machakos Protocol on the overall process, the strong influence exerted by Sudanese parties on the content of the agreement, and the ability of external actors to facilitate the negotiations and pressure the parties to reach an agreement.
The Sudanese context: weak state, long-lasting conflict and unfocused peace efforts
Sudan is a fragile state, and modern Sudanese history is characterised by conflict between Khartoum political elites and forces at the periphery, where identity politics has fuelled opposition to the centre (Johnson 2003, Daly 2007, de Waal 2007, Sørbø 2010). These factors are also the main reasons for the prevalence of armed conflict within the country's borders. Since independence in 1956, state capacity has been eroded through neglect and deliberate policies of shifting government power to party structures, informal networks and, in the peripheries, to militias. The central government has lacked the might to rule by force, and the post-colonial project of national integration has failed.
Since the Second World War, a Southern Sudanese political identity has emerged, concomitantly with the withering of central state legitimacy. This identity involves cultural cleavages deepened by war. The SPLM/A's main demands during the last civil war were for a secular, pluralistic Sudan and self-determination for the South. This agenda appealed to the SPLM/A's foreign backers, politicians and broad segments of the population in the northern peripheries and even in Khartoum. Towards the end of the war, the demand for a referendum, with the option of secession, became more pronounced in the SPLM/A's rhetoric (Rolandsen 2005). The crumbling and delegitimising of the Sudanese state accelerated after the National Islamic Front – later renamed National Congress Party (NCP) – took control in Khartoum in 1989. This regime has pursued antagonistic Islamist policies; widened the farming out of the state monopoly of violence to local militias and strong men; and has repeatedly purged the army and state bureaucracy of persons perceived as uncommitted to the NCP (International Crisis Group 2011). During the 1990s, through its aggressive Islamism and alleged sponsorship of terrorism, the NCP made enemies of neighbouring states and became a pariah within the international community. By 2001, Sudan was a state with very limited capacity, wherein an isolated regime ruled through suppression and informal patronage networks, while being challenged politically and/or militarily in most of its peripheries. This in turn affected the goals and strategies of the parties negotiating the peace agreement and of other actors involved.
The process overseen by the Inter-Governmental Authority on Development (IGAD)4 was the most enduring and successful of the initiatives to end the second civil war (Simmons and Dixon 2006, Young 2007, Wöndu and Lesch 1999, Rogier 2005). Launched in 1993, it achieved its first breakthrough in 1994 with an agreed Declaration of Principles. The IGAD peace talks continued over several inconclusive rounds and, by 2000, international interest had waned. A joint Libyan–Egyptian initiative launched in 1999 provided the parties – particularly the GoS – an opportunity to stall by ‘forum-shopping’. Meanwhile, Southern Sudan and northern Uganda were a permanent war zone subject to general insecurity. Even as late as 2001, few, if any, anticipated a negotiated settlement in the foreseeable future (Deng and Morrison 2001, El-Affendi 2001).
2001–2002: gaining momentum
A new sense of optimism emerged in the period January 2001–June 2002, the result of a constellation of factors presenting a unique opportunity to end the conflict. In the late 1990s the NCP had been preoccupied with internal strife and power struggles, a deep economic crisis, an increasingly cohesive opposition, and international isolation (International Crisis Group 2002a, Carney 2007, Young 2007). A leadership struggle pitting Hassan al-Turabi against President Omar Bashir was won by the latter (International Crisis Group 2011). The result was a more pragmatic government dominated by security and military personnel and a weakened Islamist wing fronted by Vice-President Ali Osman Taha (Rogier 2005, pp. 54–55). The modest oil revenue that began to become available in 1999–2000 could only mitigate rising foreign indebtedness, sinking export revenues, and economic sanctions.
The SPLM/A emerged stronger and more cohesive from its own factional strife, and dominated a broad coalition of northern and southern opposition parties, the National Democratic Alliance. Whereas earlier peace initiatives had been stymied by disputes among groups themselves, now the SPLM/A could more convincingly negotiate on behalf of the whole of Southern Sudan as well as the contested areas of Abyei, the Nuba Mountains and Southern Blue Nile (Rogier 2005, p. 56). The SPLM/A had the active support of Uganda, Kenya, Eritrea and Ethiopia, Khartoum's weak position having presented them with an opportunity for self-interested intervention. Indeed, the pursuit of Nile water rights and internal security by these upstream countries could be strengthened by increased influence in Sudan, notably in a more autonomous Southern Sudan acting as a territorial buffer with northern Sudan and, more remotely, Egypt (Høigilt et al. 2010). US influence may also have played a part in this greater involvement, though it is difficult to estimate the degree to which such influence was brought to bear when the interests of these upstream states dovetailed with those of the US (Waihenya 2006).5 The IGAD secretariat was reinvigorated under the leadership of General Lazarus Sumbeiywo, and the Kenyan government of Daniel Arap Moi actively influenced and facilitated the negotiation process. The contribution from Kenya and other countries in the region with sympathetic attitudes towards the SPLM/A, notably Uganda, Ethiopia and Eritrea, was crucial in reaching the peace agreement. Both the domestic balance of power and pattern of regional support therefore tilted in favour of the SPLM/A, increasing the likelihood that it could extract concessions from the NCP.
Despite these developments it is fair to assume that the parties remained willing to pursue victory on the battlefield to achieve their overarching goals. Indeed, ‘war-weariness’ was a contributing factor to, rather than an adequate and convincing explanation of a willingness to negotiate among the parties. ‘War-weariness’ was nowhere to be heard of, for example, when – concurrent with the CPA peace talks – the GoS used military means to stop the rebellion in Darfur. Throughout the process, both sides seemed constantly to consider reverting to arms, despite stalemate on the battlefield and a growing realisation that victory was unfeasible in the near future. At the same time, low morale and recurring threats of internal discord on both sides forged a double-edged sword, evincing both a need to negotiate and the possibility of the opposition's collapse. Nor had war-weariness reached a level where the parties were ready to sign a peace agreement they could not ‘sell’ to their respective constituencies.
External developments beyond the region added the political weight and resources needed to pressure the parties into deal-making mode. Particularly important was increased US involvement as part of the troika, alongside the UK and Norway. Compared to its predecessors, the administration of George W. Bush had a more pragmatic policy towards Sudan and a determination to facilitate a settlement (Cockett 2010, pp. 156–161). This greater interest preceded 9/11 and the ‘war on terror’. The idea of a US special envoy culminated in the appointment of John Danforth on 6 September 2001. Following the attack on the World Trade Center, the Bush administration demonstrated a willingness to use decisive force in its foreign policy, which made its subsequent threats of drastic action towards Sudan more convincing. Members of the US Congress with interests in Sudanese politics pressed the Bush administration to pursue a negotiated settlement, but Congress kept the administration on a tight leash through ‘The Sudan Peace Act’ which allowed further sanctions against the regime in Khartoum if it obstructed the peace process (Rogier 2005, pp. 83–88). Apparently US also indicated a willingness to use military means against Khartoum (Cockett 2010, pp. 162–164). That these might include direct US military action against Sudan's oil infrastructure, tougher sanctions, and greater US support to opposing forces, notably the SPLM/A, was communicated to the NCP (ibid.). In the words of a prominent NCP leader, Dr Ghazi Salahudin: ‘The United States looked like a wounded lion. It was very difficult for us to predict what kind of action they would take tomorrow. We had to wait and see, and watch what we said and what we did – and engage’ (Johnson 2011, p. 19). Engaging in talks thus became a matter of survival for NCP leaders.
The US decided to focus its efforts on the IGAD framework instead of launching a separate initiative. In late 2001–early 2002, the US, UK and Norway formalised a joint approach to the peace talks. This coordination grew closer from early 2002, when the three countries began providing technical assistance and applying joint political pressure to the parties. In November 2011 Danforth presented four tests of the parties' willingness to negotiate a peace deal, first and foremost aimed at the GoS (Justice Africa 2001; Rogier 2005). The most important were an agreement on ending attacks on civilians, and a limited ceasefire in the Nuba Mountains, both to be internationally monitored. In April 2002 Danforth ruled that the parties had shown sufficient good faith and recommended continuing US involvement in the peace process (Danforth 2002). The Danforth process demonstrated the parties' interest in being seen to cooperate. The parties had not been this close to agreement since early 1989. The notion of ‘a window of opportunity’ was commonly referred to (International Crisis Group 2002a).
By early 2002 a peace deal had thus begun to appear achievable. The contours of a compromise on the major issues were clear; the relative military and political strength of the two parties made it possible for the SPLM/A to win the concessions it needed; the beginning of oil production added an element of urgency and uncertainty; and a constellation of external actors, foremost Kenya and the troika led by the US, were ready to lend the necessary political attention and technical support. In contrast to the official rhetoric, the limited goal of ending the war was more important than fundamental political change in Sudan (Deng and Morrison 2001). That this window of opportunity would stay open for only a limited period added urgency to the peace talks. The stakes were therefore high when the parties came together under IGAD auspices at the Kenyan town of Machakos on 16 June 2002.
2002–2003: from compromise at Machakos to crisis at Nakuru
The first round of talks (16 June–20 July 2002) started with little hope of significant progress (Justice Africa 2002a). It was therefore surprising when, at the eleventh hour, a momentous agreement was reached. There were two overarching issues that had to be resolved at Machakos before any other question could be addressed. First, the future of the relationship between state and religion in Sudan had to be solved. Separation of religion and state was a crucial aspect of the SPLM/A's official reasons for starting the war in the first place and was essential to its vision of a ‘New Sudan’ (Garang and Khalid 1987). This demand was also important in winning support from Western governments and advocacy groups. In contrast, the NCP based its own legitimacy on furthering Islamic principles. For its leaders, agreeing to a secular state would risk political suicide (Rogier 2005). A compromise, which had crystallised long before the Machakos negotiations, was exemption for Southern Sudan, even as sharia remained the basis of governance in the North. Until 2002, the parties were not ready to commit to this solution.
On the question of self-determination for Southern Sudan, the parties appeared to be even further apart. Initially a champion of a united and reformed Sudan, the SPLM/A's legitimacy among Southerners was increasingly based on its reluctant pursuit of self-determination. Two civil wars had strengthened Southern national identity. The previous peace period (1972–1983) had given autonomy to the South, further cementing the region as a political unit. A referendum as the means for exercising self-determination had been on the table since the first IGAD round in 1994, when it was immediately accepted by the SPLM/A; the GoS signed on with some reservations in 1998. In subsequent rounds of IGAD peace talks, a compromise began to take shape, but the leaders shied away from committing themselves to an agreement. The SPLM/A would settle for nothing less than a referendum with a specific date (Justice Africa 2002a), a position that foreign governments and analysts misunderstood as a bargaining ploy; they believed that the SPLM/A could be pressured into accepting some kind of regional autonomy. Maintenance of the country's territorial integrity was an important principle for the NCP. The South is generally perceived to be rich in natural resources; most of Sudan's known oil deposits are located there. The loss of the South implied ceding a large share of future national income. Besides, it was a truism among Khartoum elites that, over time, the South would inevitably adopt Islam and Arabic, and the Sudanese nation would become more homogenous. Southern secession or even confederation would check such a ‘natural’ process (Sharkey 2007). At the same time, however, some within the NCP appeared happy to get rid of the South, which they deemed less valuable than maintaining the purity of the Islamic state. Granting self-determination would be politically costly to the NCP, yet it seemed the only way to guarantee sharia in the North (Rolandsen 2011).
The Machakos talks started like many previous rounds of negotiations. The parties continued to diverge over religion and self-determination, and it is difficult to establish exactly how agreement was eventually reached. Sumbeyiwo's biography (Waihenya 2006) focuses on skilful management of negotiations, while Hilde F. Johnson's account (Johnson 2011, pp. 43–54) emphasises the importance of international diplomacy. In any case, by mid July, the main remaining element of uncertainty was the length of the period between the signing of a peace agreement and the holding of a referendum. This was finally negotiated after Sumbeiywo locked two members of each delegation in a room and told them this was their last chance. Thus immured, they nonetheless had extensive telephone contact with their respective leaders, which resulted in the unexpected and groundbreaking Machakos Protocol (signed on 20 July 2002); the referendum would take place within six years of the signing of an agreement.
In August 2002 John Garang and President Bashir met – for the first time – in Kampala. Until then the SPLM/A leader had feared that such a meeting would be seen as a sign of weakness or otherwise result in unfavourable publicity. The newly positive atmosphere soon evaporated following the SPLA attack on the Southern town of Torit on 1 September 2002 (SPLM/A News Agency 2002). Although both parties had until then followed a ‘fight and talk’ strategy, by which military confrontations had occurred while negotiations continued, the attack on Torit was different, a large operation after important progress in the peace process. The motive for the attack is difficult to discern, but it was probably an attempt to strengthen the SPLM's negotiating position (International Crisis Group 2002b, Justice Africa 2002b). The result was a crisis. The GoS walked out of the Machakos talks, demanded a ceasefire, and were not prepared to return to the talks until they had won back Torit, which they did later in the month. After some weeks of intense diplomacy, Sumbeiywo (with the assistance of neighbouring countries and the troika) managed to persuade the parties to agree to a temporary cessation of hostilities. Although this had to be renewed every three months, it was, for all practical purposes, a ceasefire agreement; and there were only a few incidents of large-scale violence in the South during 2003–2005.
By the New Year, the IGAD/Machakos talks were back on track, only for the issue of the three contested areas along the border between North and South, i.e. Abyei, the Nuba Mountains and Southern Blue Nile, to present a major hurdle (International Crisis Group 2003b). These areas were partly occupied by the SPLM/A, and there was much sympathy among the local populations for the rebels' pro-periphery and reformist programme. The SPLM/A could not abandon them. Southerners viewed Abyei's attachment to the North during the colonial period as an anomaly; a majority of the population belongs to the Ngok Dinka people, and the SPLM/A demanded that they be given the opportunity to join the South (Johnson 2008). The people of the two other contested areas share a strong desire for local autonomy and have common interests with the people of the South, but were on the Northern side of the border; it would be difficult to get a workable deal without compromise over these areas. The NCP insisted that the SPLM/A lacked the standing to negotiate on behalf of the people in these areas and that the Machakos Protocol applied only to the South. A separate negotiating forum outside the IGAD framework and under the aegis of the government of Kenya attempted to deal with the three areas (Johnson 2011, pp. 63–64).
Several rounds of negotiations during the spring of 2003 produced no breakthrough, but considerable progress was made in establishing the parties' positions on the remaining issues of security arrangements, power-sharing, wealth-sharing and the three contested areas. The IGAD secretariat and the troika grew increasingly impatient, however, and intensified the diplomatic pressure to reach an agreement. The mediators decided to put aside the piecemeal approach and instead present a draft of a comprehensive solution (Rogier 2005). The Nakuru document, as it was called, foreshadowed the eventual CPA both in structure and wording (Young 2007). The GoS delegation rejected it. Seizing this opportunity to appear more reasonable, the SPLM/A negotiators approved it, only later disclosing their deep misgivings (Johnson 2011, pp. 80–84). The security arrangements were the most problematic, and these emerged as the next issue that had to be resolved if further progress was to be made.
The signing of the 20 July Machakos Protocol was, in historical perspective, the most important breakthrough of the entire peace process. Not only did this compromise end the impasse over the two major issues of previous talks – the role of religion in government and self-determination for Southern Sudan – it also established the fundamental principles of the ensuing peace process. Subsequent intensification of the war (in autumn 2002) was thus equally surprising. It is still difficult to decide whether the Protocol was a result of fortunate circumstances or whether the parties would have reached some kind of compromise during the summer of 2002 anyway. Moreover, exactly why the Machakos process made limited progress in subsequent months and was finally stranded when the NCP dismissed the Nakuru document in July 2003 is still undisclosed. Young (2007) suggests that the NCP was not ready to make a grand compromise, and it is probable that the NCP hesitated in order to get a better deal by negotiating piecemeal. Another reason may be that the NCP wanted more, i.e. a political partnership with the SPLM/A.
2003–2004: high-level haggling
After the collapse of the Nakuru process, the troika and neighbouring countries promoted a different approach to the peace negotiations. Active mediation through the IGAD secretariat was discontinued; instead, the ‘principals’, John Garang and Vice-President Ali Osman Taha, took the stage. Subsequent compromises were made in closed negotiations between them. The possibility of involving the principals had at different stages been suggested. In particular, the GoS favoured direct negotiation with John Garang. The SPLM/A had initially dismissed the idea of bringing Taha and Garang into the process, but the GoS leadership, having rejected the Nakuru document and been held responsible for halting the peace process, was eager to resume negotiations (Johnson 2011). A concentrated effort was set in motion to bring John Garang directly into the talks. Abel Alier, a Southern Sudanese elder statesman who had been working actively behind the many scenes of the IGAD process, intermediated. Ali Osman Taha also contacted the Norwegian Minister of Development, Hilde Frafjord Johnson, for help in convincing Garang to participate (ibid.). The neighbouring countries, Kenya in particular, also put pressure on Garang. Taha's attendance at a Kenyan state funeral was used as the occasion for an unofficial meeting with Garang (Waihenya 2006). This meeting was successful, and the two leaders started direct negotiations.
The first breakthrough under the new arrangements was an agreement on security, which was reached in September 2003 (International Crisis Group 2003a). The main issues involved were the future status of the rebel army, the SPLA, and whether Northern troops should be withdrawn from the South. A default solution would have been absorption of the SPLA into the government army. The SPLM/A insisted on keeping the SPLA separate, however, and that the government army should withdraw from the South. The experience gained from the 1972–1983 period of autonomy had taught the SPLM/A that a separate army was needed to guarantee implementation of any agreement. This in turn was unacceptable to the NCP, as it would treat the national army as an occupying force and the South as de facto independent. It appeared that the problem was irresolvable.
The outcome of the first round of meetings in September 2003 was GoS acceptance of the SPLM/A's initial position on security issues, but with modifications: the SPLA would remain a separate army, and the two parties would contribute equally to ‘joint integrated units’, totalling 39,000 soldiers, to be stationed in Southern Sudan, the three contested areas and Khartoum. This arrangement would last until a referendum decided the future status of the South. In the event the vote favoured unity, the SPLA would be integrated into the government army (Rogier 2005). This agreement was a victory for the SPLM/A. It practically denied the GoS any military leverage over the South and set the region further on the path towards independence. Nevertheless, it is highly unlikely that SPLM/A would have settled for less, and this compromise was useful for the US and its regional allies since it gave them increased indirect control over Southern Sudan and severely reduced Khartoum's opportunity to interact with destabilising elements in neighbouring countries. The price the SPLM/A paid for this deal was a political partnership with the NCP and (less formally) with Vice-President Taha. Like President Nimeiri before him, Taha presumably saw the political advantage in becoming a ‘peacemaker’ and harnessing the political force of the SPLM/A and the Southern Sudanese populace (International Crisis Group 2003a).
The next item on the agenda was the issue of wealth-sharing. During the last months of 2003, discussions first centred on questions related to ownership of land and natural resources, which always tend towards the technical; in the end, the parties decided to ignore some of these (notably rights to Nile waters) and postpone others (ownership of land and oil resources). Ultimately, there were two main issues: managing existing and future oil-exploitation contracts, and dividing the income from oil production (Tellnes 2006). In retrospect, it appears that the current management regime was allowed to continue, and the future government of Southern Sudan was to receive 50% of the income derived from oil production there. A third issue involved banking and currency. The parties agreed on a new common currency and a separate branch of the Bank of Sudan: the Bank of Southern Sudan (Rogier 2005). Because the most difficult issues were deferred to future negotiations, however, wealth-sharing did not make or break the peace talks. Instead, the three contested areas and power-sharing became the last major obstacles for the CPA process.
After the signing of the wealth-sharing agreement on 7 January 2004, a final agreement again seemed imminent: the peace process had gained considerable momentum, and it would have been difficult for either party to extricate itself from the process and its commitments at this stage. It was, however, imperative for each side to make a convincing display of getting the best deal possible. During the spring of 2004, much time was spent haggling over quotas in the power-sharing agreement. The result was an elaborate and fateful compromise. The SPLM/A leaders watered down their demand for a secular capital, and failed their allies in the Southern Blue Nile and Nuba Mountains (Johnson 2011, pp. 131–133). The future of those areas was relegated to undefined popular consultations, with unclear consequences. In return, the NCP had to allow a referendum to decide whether Abyei should belong to the North or the South after the end of the interim period in 2011 (Rogier 2005). The Abyei issue has continued to be a point of violent contentions between the parties (Johnson 2010, pp. 36–41).
The power-sharing protocol in fact engendered a plan for democratic transition for the whole Sudan. A national election during the interim period was included at the insistence of the international community (cf. Johnson 2011, pp. 136, 209). The reasoning was that this would give the people of Sudan their say on the peace process and thereby provide legitimacy for the CPA; the parties lacked a formal mandate to participate on behalf of their (assumed) constituencies and there were no channels for popular or civil society consultations in the negotiation framework. The end-stage of negotiations centred on an implementation schedule for the CPA and on details of a ceasefire agreement.
Following the January 2002 ceasefire agreement in the Nuba Mountains there had been a largely successful and relatively low-cost monitoring force, the Joint Military Commission, in the area. This consisted of a few foreign officers and foot soldiers from the SPLA and the Sudan Armed Forces (Varhola 2007). The force was effective both in monitoring the ceasefire and as part of a trust-building exercise. Some saw this as a model for the whole UN peacekeeping mission in Sudan, but the UN made no attempt to deviate from its prototype. The UN Mission in Sudan (UNMIS) thus consisted mainly of a large number of infantry and a much smaller number of military observers, civilian staff and police (van der Lijn 2008).
Negotiations over the last details of the peace agreement dragged on during the autumn of 2004. Claims that the NCP held the process hostage while it conducted offensives in Darfur might have some merit, but are difficult to prove (Johnson 2011). But dissent within the SPLM/A over the handling of the peace negotiations in October and November 2004 certainly caused considerable anxiety and brought the process to a standstill. An extraordinary UN Security Council meeting in Nairobi in November 2004 gave the GoS and SPLM/A an ultimatum: if they did not reach agreement by 31 December, severe consequences would ensue for the international engagement with Sudan (ibid.; Rogier 2005). Negotiations continued, and the CPA was signed on 9 January 2005.
Bringing in the principals ensured that an agreement was reached. It shaped the contents of the CPA, and affected the way the agreement was implemented (Young 2007). But it was a risky strategy because there was no higher authority to fall back on if the talks failed, in which case a resumption of the war would be the likely outcome. Moreover, the members of the delegations now had a more subordinate and facilitative role in buttressing the talks between the two leaders, and the IGAD and the chief negotiator had been reduced to ceremonial hosts (Rogier 2005). The eventual political partnership of the NCP and SPLM/A was also a result of the Garang-Taha meetings – a power-sharing agreement that excluded others. These risks and consequences must be balanced against the fact that after the failure of the Nakuru document the peace talks had been deadlocked, and that the alternative to direct high-level talks might well have been a prolongation of the war.
Implementing the CPA
When the euphoria triggered by the signing of the CPA subsided, it was time to focus on transition from war to peace and on implementing the ambitious political and social programme embedded in the agreement. The main events and trends of this period can be briefly presented. Mistrust between the parties remained; for the peace agreement to survive, cooperation was required. Some feared that the NCP had acceded to the CPA in order to buy time and that, as soon as international attention moved elsewhere, they would evade implementation, particularly of the referendum (International Crisis Group 2005). Another element of uncertainty involved government-supported militias in the South, which constituted a significant threat to the consolidation of peace (Arnold 2007, Young 2007). Moreover, the war in Darfur continued to rage.
A significant weakness of the CPA was its dependence on the personal relations between Ali Osman Taha and John Garang (Young 2007). Their leadership was crucial for the implementation of the agreement, and for the pursuit of a reform agenda in Khartoum (Johnson 2011). When Garang returned to Khartoum for the first time since the start of the war, he was received by a crowd numbering in the millions. But only three weeks after he had been installed as First Vice-President of Sudan, he died in a helicopter accident (30 July 2005). The SPLM/A itself had always been a coalition, and a power struggle began soon after Garang's death. Garang's successor, Salva Kiir Mayardit, lacked the former's political charisma and convincing commitment to Sudanese unity. Several key figures in the peace negotiations were sidelined. The SPLM/A was thus weakened on the national scene, and failed to assume a strong position in the coalition Government of National Unity (GoNU). SPLM/A representatives sent to Khartoum as ministers made little impact. The position of Taha, whose influence within the government was partly dependent on personal relations with Garang and the role of the SPLM in national politics, was concomitantly weakened. Implementation of the CPA was hampered by the absence of its two chief architects. The process lost momentum, and execution of key provisions – elections, a census – was disputed and delayed.
Darfur cast a long shadow over the implementation of the peace agreement (Rogier 2005). It had been expected that the SPLM/A's joining the government in Khartoum would lead to a negotiated settlement in Darfur. In the event, the SPLM/A played only a marginal role in the vexatious Darfur peace process which, although modelled on that of IGAD, differed from it in several ways. First, there were several groups on the rebel side of the table, and they disagreed with each other (Flint 2010). Because of the CPA compromise, moreover, the GoNU had less to offer in terms of power- and wealth-sharing. Finally, the Darfur peace process was, to a larger degree than the CPA negotiations, driven by external actors, who were pushing hard for a quick solution (Nathan 2007). The Darfur Peace Agreement, a compromise spearheaded by the US, was presented in April 2006. The GoNU accepted immediately, since this was close to its position, but while one rebel faction signed, two others rejected it. Since then, the violence in Darfur has been less intense, rebel groups have broken up, but insecurity is still rife in many areas. At the time of writing (July 2011), and despite some progress in negotiations conducted in Doha, a comprehensive peace agreement seems unlikely any time soon.
In 2006 Salva Kiir reached an agreement with the most important Southern militia leaders to absorb them and their soldiers into the SPLM/A (Arnold and LeRiche 2008). Skirmishes in Malakal and Abyei between military units associated with the two former enemies were kept from escalating into a resumption of general warfare (McEvoy and LeBrun 2010). Such local violence, and the general lack of policing capacity, has been the main reason for continuing insecurity in the South (Rolandsen 2009; Schomerus and Allen 2010). Although protection of civilians was part of the mandate for the large and well-funded UN mission, UNMIS has barely been able to monitor the ceasefire arrangements, and it has failed significantly in terms of peacebuilding and the protection of civilians against local violence (UN OCHA 2008; IRIN 2011). The joint integrated units have also proved to be a failure, and have indeed been more of a liability than an enforcer of peace.
Considerable attention and money was devoted to planning post-conflict international assistance to Sudan. Whether, as the UN, World Bank and the troika countries claimed, the government of Sudan and SPLM/A had a definite influence over the design of international assistance, these foreign and multinational entities certainly governed the process and laid down the overall parameters for the post-conflict assistance. The unwieldy World Bank-managed Multi-Donor Trust Fund (MDTF) was born of these efforts, accompanied by the ill-considered Joint Donor Office in Juba. This office was tasked with overseeing and coordinating aid to Southern Sudan, but it was not delegated the necessary resources or authority to fulfil these tasks. Despite extensive planning, results have been disappointing (Mailer and Poole 2010; Bennett et al. 2010). One important reason is that assistance has been based on a one-size-fits-all peacebuilding approach. International assistance, particularly the MDTF, was founded on a bureaucratic reporting regime combined with a neo-liberal tender system for contracting non-existent private entrepreneurs. A practical problem was the difficulty in finding senior World Bank officials to live and work in Juba. Funds remained unspent, and the disproportionately poor results can partly be traced to the belated disbursement of the MDTF budgets.
It is difficult to predict the extent to which empirically informed, custom-made solutions would have succeeded, but undeniable that the results of the design chosen have been disappointing (Bennett et al. 2010). The blame for lack of development in the South has often been placed at the door of the government of Southern Sudan's incapacity and corruption (allAfrica.com 2011). But that problem had been generally anticipated, and addressing it had been a reason for international assistance in the first place. To be sure, high-level political engagement in the peace process declined significantly after the signing of the CPA. And while regional actors continued to be engaged, there was dwindling political interest in implementation from the Western countries. War in Darfur diverted both funds and attention. The International Criminal Court's indictment of President Bashir further alienated the NCP leaders and hindered constructive engagement with Khartoum. In the autumn of 2010, as the referendum over Southern Sudan's future status drew nearer, the US in particular stepped up high-level political involvement in the peace process.
More general points related to international intervention presented by Christopher Cramer (2006) and Mats Berdal (2009) are highly relevant for the CPA implementation. Firstly, too often a society entering a post-war phase is seen as a tabula rasa and external planners fail to pay sufficient attention to the fact that international interventions are political and solutions depend on whoever is involved in the efforts to end the war. Secondly, the extent to which peace settlements result in development depends on ‘whether economic policy is a product of ideological fantasy or of a realistic acknowledgment of particular economies and historical experience’ (Cramer 2006, p. 245). Thirdly, these plans have a tendency to ignore the slow transition from war to peace. Violence and insecurity tends to continue during post-conflict phases and preclude reconstruction and democratisation.
The standard liberal peacebuilding measures proved to be largely ineffective and perhaps even counterproductive in the Sudanese context. The stipulation of a national election during the CPA interim period was unhelpful. Although unintentionally useful as a technical dry run for the referendum, the CPA process itself did not allow a real election. The electoral defeat of either of the two parties that signed the CPA and were responsible for implementing it would have threatened the peace agreement. Moreover, the highly complex electoral process drew scarce resources and attention from the planning of the referendum and paralysed the CPA implementation process for months. Meanwhile, a confidence-building ‘peace dividend’ (based on social and economic development) also disappointed, in large part because of impractical approaches to post-war reconstruction and a failure to appreciate the specific challenges presented by local contexts (Bennett et al. 2010). The tasks of restoring security and protecting civilians are, after all, closely linked to social and economic change.
Conclusion
Despite its shortcomings, the peace agreement has brought a halt to the conflict between the government of Sudan and SPLM/A. Yet, the Machakos Protocol, even more so than the CPA itself, was the historic breakthrough of the peace process. That agreement accurately reflected the priorities of the two parties: when pressured by external actors to reach a compromise, maintaining a firm political and ideological grip in the North was more important to the NCP than securing the South. For the SPLM, self-determination for the South was favoured over a reformed New Sudan. The Machakos compromise thus prepared the ground for a final resolution of the conflict; it provided the opportunity to negotiate the other contentious issues of security arrangements, the three contested areas, and wealth- and power-sharing. The Machakos Protocol also established the overall architecture of the CPA.
The CPA did not include other political parties, solve conflicts elsewhere in Sudan, or provide a blueprint for democratisation and economic development. But, expansion of the peace process to address any of these presumed shortcomings would have derailed the peace talks and most likely resulted in a renewal of the war. In terms of general theorising about peacemaking and external intervention, lessons from the implementation of the CPA indicate that attempts at including ambitious peacebuilding agendas might doom the immediate effort at hand, to end war. Moreover, in line with Cramer's (2006) reasoning, we may ask similar questions of the literature on external intervention in peace negotiations. Are external actors neutral? Are their interests ever entirely benevolent? How do we strike a balance between a need for pragmatic engagement to end a war, and the long-term goal of lasting peace and prosperity?
That Southerners would opt for independence became increasingly probable during the CPA interim period. However, the very fact that the CPA committed both sides to making continued unity ‘attractive’ hindered constructive debate about making separation bearable to the NCP and the North as such (Rolandsen 2011). Division of the country will solve, at least temporarily, the North–South conflict, but will not eliminate the possibility of future war between the resulting two countries; nor does it ensure security, development or political empowerment of the Sudanese. The temporary framework imbued in the Protocol signed in Nairobi on 9 January 2005 facilitated a relatively quick end to the war by allowing some issues to be deferred. This also ensured, however, that an ensuing round of negotiation over the South's terms of secession became elaborate and difficult. These negotiations were not finalised at the time of South Sudan's secession and will require considerable statesmanship from Sudanese leaders and engagement from neighbouring countries and the wider international community to be satisfactorily concluded. The CPA process laid the foundation for change and development, but other processes are needed to realise these aspirations.