As
an anthropologist, Besteman views conflict and reconciliation through
an enthnographic lens. She is interested in what ordinary citizens do
and feel, how they act and react. She has a book under review about
South Africans' views of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission
("quite ineffective,— according to most people she talked to) and how
some South Africans are trying to reinvent a social world in the wake
of apartheid.
But earlier in her career she got dragged into
the conflict in Somalia, where she had been studying the effects of
land reform imposed by privatization and other Western economic
structures. As the political situation in Somalia unraveled in the late
1980s, she ended up trying to explain the incipient conflict there,
even briefing the American ambassador as the situation devolved.
"It's a localized history, but it's also a very globalized history,— she said. During the Cold War, the U.S. propped
up dictator Siad Barre with economic and massive military aid. Barre
was a U.S. client in the Cold War balance, and Somalia was a strategic
site for military bases if conflict were to erupt in the Middle East.
The region was flooded with arms from both sides, but neither the U.S.
nor the U.S.S.R. (which backed Ethiopia) had any accountability for
their actions, she says. When the U.S. cut off aid to Barre, in 1989,
he was finished, and civil society collapsed. "What's ironic [about
U.S. goals] is that, by the time there was conflict in the Persian
Gulf, we were out of Somalia because there was a civil war,— Besteman
said.
Among the reasons for the collapse were efforts to convert
Somalia to a capitalist democracy, she said. Neoclassical, neo-liberal
economic policy pushed individualizing and privatizing everything, she
says. Study teams like hers also were sent to Uganda, Senegal, Kenya,
and other countries. "What we found was remarkably similar and
devastating. Individualization was a highly corrupt process. The people
who were grabbing up the land were bureaucrats and businessmen, and the
farmers were uniformly being dispossessed of their land. This frenzy of
privatization was enabled, facilitated, and supported, in the case of
Somalia, by European and American aid forces.—
Whether it's Somalia or Rwanda or Darfur, "Anthropologists are interested in those [political] questions, but
we're also interested in what happened at the village level,— she said.
"How does that translate into homicidal mania? What are peoples' mind
frames? What are the discourses that are operating? What are the kinds
of emotional states that cause people to see murder as their best
alternative in the immediacy of the situation?—
Racism, she said, often plays a huge role, and it certainly did in conflicts in Somalia, Sudan, Rwanda, and
elsewhere in Africa. "It's all about race and the ways in which
political language operates to demonize or marginalize sectors of the
population who then become targets for reasons that may have absolutely
nothing to do with them. But as people's frustrations play out—as
people's life opportunities or their hopes go unrealized, and the world
is collapsing around them, and avenues for a sustainable, fulfilling
life are being cut off left and right—people look for somebody to
blame. Often it is the stigmatized minority that's the easiest target.
'It's all their fault.'—
Besteman sees parallels in the current debate
about immigration in the U.S., where people sow paranoia with lines
like: "[They're] swarming over the border, taking our jobs, swamping
our culture, our schools, our health systems, sticking people up in the
alley.—
"It
takes a lot to get people to kill each other,— Besteman said. "Most
human beings do everything they can to avoid killing each other.— So,
as an anthropologist she asks, "How do you get people to kill each
other? It's a profoundly unnatural human tendency.—