Mozambique is widely regarded as a success story. The parliamentary and presidential elections in 1994 marked the peak of the peace process in Mozambique. Despite minor irregularities, the elections were declared free and fair by international observers. Mozambique has succeeded where other countries such as Angola has failed – a stable peace process, multiparty elections and the transformation of the armed opposition into a civil political party. Its transition to liberalism and capitalism brought macro-economic growth rates that are probably envied by many countries in the region. This article argues, however, that Mozambique provides an example of a third wave democracy where the transition from an electoral democracy to a consolidated democracy has not yet been completed, with little progress towards democratic maturity. In particular, the repercussions of the elections in 1999, Mozambique’s ‘black’ November in 2000 and the process of recent consultation between the Renamo and Frelimo leadership in order to resolve the paralysed state of Mozambican politics underline a tendency towards a permanent entrenchment of democratic minimalism.

Introduction

Since the General Peace Agreement, signed in Rome in 1992 between Frelimo and Renamo, Mozambique has been widely regarded as a success story in terms of political reconciliation, pacification and economic recovery.

Under the auspices of the United Nations Mission in Mozambique, (Operações das Nações Unidas em Mocambique, or ONUMOZ, 1992-1995), 92 881 former combatants were demobilised and reintegrated into Mozambican society.¹ The staging of parliamentary and presidential elections in 1994 marked the peak of (and formal end to) the peace process in Mozambique. Despite minor irregularities, the elections were declared free and fair by international observers, thereby marking a significant milestone in Mozambique’s democratic transition. For the UN, ONUMOZ was one of the most successful operations in the history of the organisation.² It not only ensured an end to the armed conflict in Mozambique, but also contributed to the country’s profound political transformation.

However, considering that the 1994 elections took place in a special context (as part of the peace process) and under external influences, they signal less about the advancement of Mozambique’s democratisation than, for example, the ‘home-grown’ elections held in neighbouring South Africa in the same year. Nevertheless, Mozambique succeeded with something that had failed in countries such as Angola — a stable peace process, followed by multiparty elections and the transformation of the armed opposition into a civil political party. The transformation of Renamo into a political party has been the subject of as much political debate as its nature as a resistance movement had been, linked as it is to the question whether it had an indigenous support base or was merely the creation of foreign powers. Both controversies are closely related, and are in a sense a continuation of a single theme. Whereas certain authors³ argue that Renamo had already begun to emphasise the development of political and administrative structures in the mid-1980s, others explain Renamo’s transformation in terms of external pressure and the financial support it received after the peace agreement. The truth probably lies somewhere in between these two interpretations.

Moreover, Mozambique’s transition from a socialist planned market economy to liberalism and capitalism finally brought with it macro-economic growth rates that are probably envied by many countries in the region. For example, from 1997 to 1999, the country boasted gross domestic product (GDP) growth rates of around 10%. Furthermore, the 1999 inflation rate (less than 2%) rivalled even those of industrialised countries. Mozambican compliance with the qualification criteria for the Heavily Indebted Poor Country Initiative (HIPC)⁴ demonstrated once again the government’s political will to implement monetary and fiscal austerity measures.

However, it must be pointed out that this fantastic growth has proceeded from a very low economic base. The government report on poverty in Mozambique, Understanding poverty and well-being in Mozambique: The first national assessment 1996/97 (its publication was postponed several times for political reasons), demonstrates clearly that poverty is still deep and widespread, with 69.4% of the population living beneath the poverty line. The potential political volatility of the report lies in the fact that it is mainly in those provinces known to be Renamo strongholds where poverty levels are the highest (eg Sofala Province, with 87.9% of the population beneath the poverty line).

What makes a success story?

Democratic minimalism or consolidation?

Given the widely held belief that Mozambique is a success story, it inevitably leads to the question how success should be measured. What are the criteria applied and how are they correlated? The term ‘success’ is a teleological concept, implying that an established norm or objective has been attained. Generally, something would not be regarded as a success merely if a positive status quo alteration took place, but the objective itself has not yet been reached. In such a case, it could be regard, at best, as progress — but certainly not as success.

Confronted with Mozambican realities, and in the context of the country’s political transition, the academic discourse of conceptualising democracy has to be utilised to evaluate Mozambique’s success. Any attempt to measure success or failure presupposes a standard, postulates variables and, in the context of democratic transition, requires a clear conception of ‘democracy’. Conceptualising democracy necessarily leads to an academic discourse that descends from Schumpeter’s definition, which considers procedural elections as the essence of a democratic system.⁵ The most influential elaboration of Schumpeter’s definition came from Dahl. His concept of ‘polyarchy’ highlights that political competition and participation presuppose pluralism and political rights (freedom of speech, press and association, among others). People have to be enabled to form and express their political preferences in a meaningful way.⁶

Taking this notion of ‘electoral democracy’ further, Diamond posits his model of ‘liberal democracy’.⁷ In addition to regular, free and fair electoral competition and universal suffrage, a liberal democracy requires the absence of reserved domains of power for the military or social and political forces (including external powers) that are not either directly or indirectly accountable to the electorate. In addition to a ‘vertical’ accountability of the executive (through regular, free and fair elections), liberal democracy demands horizontal control of the executive by independent institutions such as the legislature and an independent judiciary. Especially in the African context, and considering the challenges posed to any nascent democracy by corruption, clientelism, patrimonialism and other abuses of power, horizontal accountability as an aspect of democracy gains increasing importance and requires enhanced attention.⁸

Liberal democracy also encompasses extensive provisions for political and civic pluralism. These are seen as relevant not only in the context of electoral competition and participation, but also as essential to ensure a wide range of democratic features (for example, alternative sources of information and independent media, to which citizens have unfettered access).⁹ Beyond these elements, a liberal democracy provides substantial acknowledgement and protection of personal and collective rights.

It is in this context of conceptualising democracy that the process of democratic transition as such also requires greater attention. In general, democratisation can be defined as a transition from non-democratic to democratic regimes. However, by distinguishing between electoral and liberal democracy, a distinction must be made between a first transition from authoritarianism towards the installation of a democratically elected government by founding elections and a second transitional process towards a consolidated and institutionalised democracy.

In a teleological interpretation, the criteria set by Diamond for a liberal democracy could be seen as preconditions for a consolidated democracy. However, in introducing the terminology of consolidated democracy, a clear distinction must be made — between consolidation in the classical sense as used by Huntington, where the survival of a democratic system is already considered instead of a backdrop to authoritarian structures¹⁰ and consolidation in a teleological interpretation as used in the present article. Consolidation, in this context, refers to its processural and qualitative character, in the sense of enlarging and deepening democratic structures and moving away from a mere electoral democracy towards a liberal democracy.

Although Huntington’s interpretation of democracy in his analyses of the ‘third wave’ of democratisation (the transition of non-democratic regimes toward democratic regimes that began in the mid-70s in Portugal) has to be seen as minimalist, he nevertheless elaborates an important feature of ‘third wave democracies’. According to Huntington, the threat for Mozambique, as a classic example of a third wave democracy is not so much the risk of a coup or a structural implosion, but rather the prospect of a gradual erosion of democratic structures.¹¹

Confronted with such a challenge of gradual erosion, it is interesting to note that for the mere survival of a democratic system (short-term perspective or the classical interpretation of democratic consolidation), the same factors (or rather, their non-existence) play a significant role in stabilising and enhancing democracy (long-term perspective or teleological interpretation).

The survival of a democratic system depends on the support of both the political élite and major parts of the population. The élite and the population have to agree that democracy must be accepted as the least worse, if not the best, form of rule.¹² In the Mozambican context, this inevitably raises the question whether or not the ruling political élite (who are identical to the old élite of the socialist era) embrace a democratic system out of conviction. Or do they do so mainly because a democratic transition was the best way to secure power and influence for the ruling party — and because a confession to democracy additionally supports the flow of donor money?

In analysing Mozambique’s transitional process, it becomes obvious that internal and external factors influenced the countries two-fold transition, where the peace process became a precondition and catalyst for the democratic transition.¹³ The peace process and the subsequent implementation of democratic structures in the run-up to the multiparty elections in October 1994 were shaped by pressure from the international community. Although the institutional establishment of the democratisation process after the peace agreement was largely determined by Frelimo and Renamo, the former belligerents, it was the ruling Frelimo élite who had initiated the process of political liberalisation in the beginning and had implemented (already in 1990) a constitution that guaranteed individual basic rights such as freedom of belief, opinion and association; party pluralism; independence of the judiciary; free and secret elections and a direct vote for the presidency.

Other than the minor influences exerted by Renamo, the largest opposition party, Mozambique’s democratisation turned into a process controlled and directed largely by the ruling (Frelimo) political élite. As in other states without a strong civil society or a competitive party system that could have provided an institutional context to mobilise and channel political dissent, Mozambique lacked the type of mass protests that became characteristic of the democratisation processes in West African and Francophone states.

Mozambique at the beginning of the new millennium

Turning to Mozambique at the beginning of the new millennium, it is useful to ask whether the country fulfils at least the minimalist criteria of an electoral democracy. Despite "[i]rregularities of a minor character"¹⁴ in the 1994 elections, and deficiencies with regard to competition and participation, Mozambique’s first multiparty elections were meant to indicate a successful peace process and usher in a new democratic era. The acceptance of the election results¹⁵ by all participants was a decisive moment for the consolidation of the peace process.

However, Mozambique’s democratic record received its first setback with the local elections in 1998, when the opposition boycotted the voting¹⁶ and 85% of the electorate abstained from the ballot box. Certainly, the lack of alternatives to Frelimo,¹⁷ the boycott by Renamo, organisational deficiencies and inadequate civic education (aimed at explaining the background and importance of local elections) contributed to the ‘elections without voters’. However, the poor turnout might also be ascribed in part to the growing apathy and disillusion among the population. The victory of Frelimo mayors in all communities (independent candidates succeeded only in municipal councils) consolidated existing power structures at the local level and added to a growing alienation between the political leadership and its support bases. Clearly, Mozambique did not pass the first litmus test of democratisation at the level of local government.

A year later, in December 1999, the national parliamentary and presidential elections¹⁸ indicated that Mozambique remains far from a consolidated democracy.¹⁹ Considering the low voter turnout in the local elections, it has to be acknowledged that voter participation in 1999 did reach 68%, and thus endowed both parliament and the president with a sufficient degree of legitimacy. However, it also has to be noted that the international community’s certification of the elections as ‘free and fair’ can only be attributed to the balloting itself.

Interpreting ‘fair’ in the broader sense as equal treatment that presupposes the application of political rules to each actor in the same way, and that also interprets equal opportunities as equal access to relevant resources, the 1999 electoral process is more ambivalent. Fair in such a sense covers a spectrum that implies:

the abstention from the use of state resources by the ruling party during the electoral campaign;



equal access of party representatives to polling stations;



the equal treatment of complaints regarding irregularities; and



the acceptance of election results by all participants.²⁰

In Mozambique, however, the late disbursement of campaign funds,²¹ biased reporting in the media,²² and the use of state resources by Frelimo, all call into question the existence of a level playing field. Furthermore, the credibility of the electoral process was also undermined by technical problems that emerged during the tabulation of votes. A general lack of transparency fuelled political suspicions and led to the split of the Commissão Nacional de Eleições (CNE).²³ The electoral alliance and largest opposition party, Renamo-União Eleitoral, refused to accept the election results even when the Supreme Court declared them as valid.

Subsequent attempts by Renamo to revoke the court decision by delivering ultimatums, together with its campaign of intimidation to destabilise the country, clearly indicate that politics in Mozambique still do not function on the basis of generally accepted rules of the game. Initially, however, Renamo’s protests over what it claimed were rigged elections, had indeed been of a political (delegates refused to take up seats in parliament until October 2000) and legal nature — albeit accompanied by the tough rhetoric of its leader, Afonso Dhlakama. Renamo had also continuously threatened to form separate governments in the six northern and central provinces where the party had won the majority. In addition, Dhlakama indicated publicly on several occasions to paralyse the country and to make it ungovernable if a powersharing agreement could not be reached.

On 9 November 2000, Renamo’s verbal attacks finally expanded into nationwide demonstrations by its supporters. Some of these ended in violent clashes between Renamo and the Mozambican Police (PRM), resulting in more than 40 deaths. Although all protests were illegal in terms of Mozambican law (which only allows protest marches on Saturdays, Sundays and public holidays, and after 17h00 on weekdays), the protests were tolerated in places like Maputo and did not provoke any violent reaction. The worst excesses happened in the town of Montepuez, Cabo Delgado province, where former Renamo combatants and Naparama peasant militia had regrouped.

In Montepuez, the local prison and police headquarters were overrun and weapons stolen. According to an official PRM statement, fire was only opened at protesters when they started to attack the district police command. For 24 hours the town was under effective Renamo occupation. The riots saw 25 people killed, including seven policemen. The district administration offices, the police command and the jail were completely destroyed, as was the telecommunications infrastructure that had been erected just a few months before.

Whereas the situation in Montepuez and other districts in Cabo Delgado suggests that violent provocation by Renamo posed a serious threat to law and order, situation reports from other provinces suggest equally that, in some places, excessive police force was used to deal with those who were merely expressing their political conviction. According to the Mozambican Human Rights League in Nampula, the police opened fire without provocation from Renamo demonstrators. In an attempt to disperse the crowd gathering outside a sports stadium, the police started shooting. The use, in some instances, of lethal ammunition by the PRM for crowd control raises the question whether the circumstances really justified such means, and whether or not more appropriate riot control measures would have achieved the same objective. What happened clearly highlights the need to intensify the current retraining of the PRM and to provide a sound human rights education in order to limit the still endemic tendency within its ranks to revert to violence when challenged.

The incident in Montepuez and its aftermath (culminating in the death by asphyxiation of 119 detainees incarcerated in a prison cell of 21 square metres) clearly demonstrates the ‘benign’ neglect of civil rights in the country and the fragile state of the rule of law. According to the reports presented by human rights associations and civil society organisations,²⁴ most of the detainees were taken into custody after the riots. Police agents went from house to house looking for people who had been denounced by others as riot participants. In these operations, police agents did not provide either specific search or arrest warrants. Withholding food and water from those imprisoned, it was only a matter of time before they would die of dehydration or asphyxiation.

Although the parliamentary committee of inquiry’s report on the incidents at Montepuez is still awaited, it appears that both sides should accept blame for what happened in Cabo Delgado province. According to a report by local priests,²⁵ it was the police who first opened fire, but Renamo supporters clearly came with an elaborated plan and the intention to besiege the town. To translate their intention into action, they enlisted the support of Naparamas (a peasant militia similar to the Kamajors in Sierra Leone), who had fought alongside Frelimo during the civil war, but who were now promised double their former Frelimo remuneration to assist Renamo.²⁶

Despite the prevailing nonchalant sentiment in Maputo, the current situation in Cabo Delgado province, particularly in Montepuez, remains tense. Renamo supporters fear further harassment by the police, while the provincial governor has already proclaimed that any new protests that could turn violent will be stopped immediately by the police.²⁷ In Montepuez, De Tocqueville’s age-old warning seems to have materialised — that changes in the political system can be followed all too rapidly by a revolution of growing social expectations, which consequently can be instrumentalised by the political opposition.

Already in 1994, Harrison noted during field research in Cabo Delgado that popular ideas of democracy were mostly marked by people’s insistence to evaluate it in terms of material change:

"Many people realised that it was not that nothing had changed; rather it was that things had changed, but not for them. There was a consciousness since liberalisation that some were taking advantage of the socio-economic conditions created to begin to accumulate wealth."²⁸

Mozambique’s human development index (HDI)²⁹ figures for the provinces graphically demonstrate the significant regional disparities. With an index of 0.204, Cabo Delgado remains one of the least developed provinces; only Nampula and Zambezia fare worse on the scale.

Cabo Delgado has always been perceived as a Frelimo stronghold. Here, the party had consolidated its power more thoroughly than in other provinces during the socialist era. The ruling party had prevailed during the 1994 elections, and had even managed to gain an additional parliamentary seat in the province in the 1999 elections. However, it is evident the soil for social discontent is fertile in the province, creating an ideal opportunity for political instrumentalisation by the opposition.

What happened in Montepuez during the ‘black November’ of 2000 clearly underlines the importance of paying special attention to the nexus between democratic consolidation and development. As Lipset pointed out decades ago, economic development involving higher levels of education and promoting a reduction of social disparities reduces the possibility of extremist policies while at the same time supporting the development of a democratic system and a stabilising middle class. However, to accomplish economic reform and development, solid political institutions are needed. To attract foreign direct investment and to advance and support small and medium enterprises — the pillars of sound economic development — an unequivocal administration of the law and legal efficiency are essential. However, Mozambique’s political institutions are still weak, and the justice system in particular has a reputation for inefficiency and corruption. In 2000, for example, 106 251 criminal cases were carried over from the previous year. In the civil courts, the backlog of cases brought into the year 2000 was as high as 30 359, with a new entry of 6 433 cases and a closure of 5 430.³⁰

Closely linked to democratic consolidation is political culture. Within the multidimensional process of democratic transition, political culture can have either an inhibiting or accelerating influence. Bearing in mind the core elements of democracy (competition and participation), a supportive political culture manifests itself in mutual tolerance, the willingness of the main actors to compromise, the ability of the parties to form a coalition, and the acceptance of election results by the defeated party or parties. In contrast, corruption, clientelism and politicised ethnicity as elements of a political culture impact negatively on any process of democratisation.³¹ In Mozambique, economic liberalisation brought with it a dichotomous effect. On the one hand, African values like social solidarity were replaced by more individualistic and selfish principles. On the other hand, the structural adjustment programme (Programa de Recuperação Económica e Social, PRES) sustained what Abrahamsson and Nilson call the ‘economy of affection’ (a economia de afecção).³²

The traditional redistribution system, which was characterised by its informal, kin-based structure, led in a liberal environment to an economy reflecting the neo-patrimonial structures of the state. Within the process of the privatisation of state assets, high-ranking officials have used their public positions to place themselves in advantageous positions in the arena of private entrepreneurship. The ways in which politicians could take advantage of their connections, inside knowledge and perhaps direct control over privatisation are widely referred to as ‘silent privatisations’ and were already addressed by the Attorney-General in a report to parliament in 1992.³³

Without sufficient and effective control mechanisms, this new liberal environment fostered corrupt practices and impeded the development of functioning public institutions, or what Weber³⁴ called the essential element of an accountable state — the state bureaucracy.

The Mozambican state bureaucracy is not only still deeply entangled with the Frelimo party apparatus, it also bears the over-formalised and over-bureaucratised features inherited from the Portuguese colonial administration. For Hanlon, the Mozambican bureaucracy provides a refuge for the incompetent:

"The Portuguese left behind a complex system requiring formal petitions, fax stamps and rubber-stamped signatures. Frelimo never dismantled this system, and for anything difficult or unusual, the answer is often that the petition is not right, another signature is needed, or someone else is responsible."³⁵

Like many young democracies after long periods of arbitrary and statist rule, Mozambique currently lacks the legal and bureaucratic means to contain corruption at the outset. A free and inquisitive press and an alert civil society pressing for institutional reforms, however, can place corruption firmly on the national agenda, as well as draw the attention of the international and donor community towards the problem.³⁶

Generally, a democratically organised, strong civil society,³⁷ capable of controlling and limiting the power of the state, is considered a key component of the process of democratisation. However, a strong and vibrant civil society becomes even more crucial in consolidating and maintaining democracy, than it is in initiating democracy.

The ‘BCM case’ in Mozambique provides a good example of the fact that constant media publicity can lead to effective government action in the fight against corruption. The US $14 million fraud that occurred during the privatisation of Banco Comercial de Moçambique (BCM) in 1996, and the subsequent failure of the Attorney-General’s Office to bring to justice people implicated in the country’s largest fraud scandal, finally forced President Chissano to dismiss the Attorney-General.

On the other hand, the assassination in November 2000 of journalist Carlos Cardoso — one of the most respected voices and a leading figure in the investigation of corrupt practices in the country — clearly indicates the vulnerability of a critical civic society. Moreover, almost two months after the murder, authorities had still not provided the public with any basic information on the investigations. Instead, the secrecy is justified with the status of the case as sub judice. After all, under a democratic system, the transparency of institutions also involves knowledge about how they function, and the freedom of public opinion to criticise the manner in which they operate. But evidently, the constitutional right to information has to stand back behind a concept of sub judice merely envisaged in the ordinary law.³⁸

Besides factors such as civil society and a behavioural consolidation relating to political culture and a willingness for dialogue, the consolidation of democracy also requires viable and effective political institutions. The structure of the party system plays a decisive role in the functioning of a political system. Ideally, in a democratic context, political parties present personal and functional alternatives. The impulse and drive of any opposition to come into power normally ensures control over the governing party. However, an essential precondition for efficient control is the existence of a competitive party system. Beyond a formal party pluralism, the opposition has to have a real chance to take over power in the next elections. Ultimately, democracy thrives on the likelihood of a power change.

Although the outcome of the Mozambican elections in 1999 has shown that the unipolar structure of a de jure multiparty system is going to dissolve as Frelimo starts to lose its hegemonic position, the structural and especially financial weakness of the opposition is still striking.

Aside from Renamo, smaller opposition parties hardly enter the political discourse. But, in the past, the major opposition party itself has been constrained by its lack of political imagination that can conceive of little other than its well-known boycott strategy. At any rate, the consolidation of democracy in Mozambique demands that the current discourse on power should be replaced by a discussion on political alternatives. The latest dialogue between Afonso Dhlakama and Joaquim Chissano (18 January 2001) suggests that consensual reform of Mozambique’s constitution and the establishment of a decentralised political structure are probably unavoidable, if the current stalemate is to be resolved.

Presently, however, Chissano continues to emphasise constitutional constraint against Dhlakama’s claims that Renamo should assume power at the local level in those provinces where the opposition party won a majority in the 1999 elections. Dhlakama himself assumes a position above the constitution by claiming structural changes without the necessary legal framework.

One way of limiting regional polarisation, while simultaneously incorporating Renamo into governance structures, may be found in a reformed decentralisation programme. Already in 1994, communal self-administration was introduced in Mozambique (Law 3/94, September 1994). The local elections of June 1998 constituted an integral part of the government’s decentralisation programme. The final law on communal self-administration, however, showed the resistance of Frelimo toward any kind of powersharing. District administration finally remained incorporated into the centralised governance structure. Practically, this meant that, even in communities where the opposition provided the mayor, or had the majority in the municipal council, the control over economic resources remained with the governing party at central level. Considering the results of the local elections in 1998, the material content of Mozambique’s decentralisation remains negligible.

Conclusion

Mozambique provides a classic example of a third wave democracy where the gap between electoral democracy and a liberal and consolidated democracy has not yet been closed. If the international academic and donor community wishes to characterise Mozambique as a success story, it must be aware that any such judgement depends strongly on the set parameters.

In comparison with other African transitions, be they from civil war to peace or from authoritarian to more democratic structures, Mozambique certainly can be listed as a positive example. However, over the period 1994 to 2000, Mozambique has hardly demonstrated much progress towards democratic maturity. On the contrary, there is rather a tendency towards the conservation of a fragile status quo, or the permanent entrenchment of democratic minimalism.

As the 2000 election aftermath has shown, the maintenance of the status quo, despite altered power constellations, creates high levels of political instability. In the case of contemporary Mozambique, reform of the political system and the political organisation of the state may thus bring about a stabilising effect on the system. Any form of powersharing would enhance the level of maturity of the political opposition, as it would have to engage constructively with the political process. It would also strengthen the identification with and participation in the political system of those parts of the population who did not vote for the majority party.

However, any reform of the political system also presupposes the willingness of all actors to participate in a constructive dialogue and their joint endeavour to seek alternative policy options. Moreover, any discussion on powersharing will remain solely in the academic realm, unless and until the governing party has shown a sufficient commitment to democracy to accept a possible loss of political power. In the final analysis, democracy is sustained only if it breathes on a simple mixture of political competition and actual changes in power.

Notes

S Barnes, Reintegration programmes for demobilised soldiers in Mozambique, UNDP, Maputo, 1997: S Barnes, The socio-economic reintegration of demobilised soldiers in Mozambique: The soldiers view, UNDP, Maputo, 1997.



B Boutros-Gali, Introduction, in United Nations Department of Public Information/UNDP (ed), The United Nations and Mozambique, 1992-1995, United Nations Blue Books Series V, New York, 1995, p 69.



See, for instance, C Manning, Constructing opposition in Mozambique: Renamo as political party, Journal of Southern African Studies 24(3), 1998; H Kueppers, Renamo: Ueber den Wandel der mosambikanischen Rebellenbewegung zu einer politischen Partie. Ein Beitrag zur Transitionsforschung, LIT-Verlag, Hamburg, 1996.



In June 1999, after Mozambique had complied with the set criteria, the country finally reached the ‘completion point’ and qualified for the HIPC initiative. With that the initially discussed debt reduction of US $2.9 billion augmented to US $3.7 billion and Mozambique’s yearly debt service will be reduced from US $104 million in 1998 to approximately US $73 million per annum in the period 1999-2005. Nevertheless, the debt service in 1999 was still 17% of the government budget. The share of the health sector, however, only encompassed 9.1% of the budget. A parity of both titles within the budget is only expected for 2001.



"[T]he democratic method is that institutional arrangement for arriving at political decisions in which individuals acquire the power to decide by means of a competitive struggle for the people’s vote." J A Schumpeter, Capitalism, socialism, and democracy, Harper & Brothers, New York, 1950, p 269.



R A Dahl, Polyarchy. participation and opposition, Yale University Press, London 1971, p 8.



L Diamond, The end of the third wave and the global future of democracy, Political Science Series 45, Institute for Advanced Studies, Vienna, 1997.



H Waldrauch, Institutionalising horizontal accountability: A conference report, Political Science Series 55, Institute for Advanced Studies, Vienna, 1998.



L Diamond, Is the third wave over?, Journal of Democracy 7(3), July 1996, pp 23ff.



S P Huntington, The third wave; Democratization in the late twentieth century, University of Oklahoma Press, Norman, 1993, pp 208ff.



S P Huntington, Democracy for the long haul, Journal of Democracy 7(2), 1996, p 8.



S M Lipset, Political man: The social bases of politics, Doubleday, New York, 1963, pp 64f.



A E Ostheimer, Transforming peace into democracy: Democratic structures in Mozambique, African Security Review 8(6), 1999, pp 15-24.



Official statement of the EU observer mission, in AWEPA (ed), Relatório da observação pela AWEPA do processo eleitoral em Moçambique 1992-1994, AWEPA, Maputo, Amsterdão, 1995, annex 2.



Already in the first round of the presidential elections, Joaquim Chissano won 53.2% of the votes. In the parliamentary elections, Frelimo received 44.33% of the votes against 37.78% for Renamo. Voter participation as high as 87.89% also expressed a desire within the population for peace and stability.



Renamo and nine other opposition parties accused Frelimo of irregularities during the registration process. However, as Renamo was not able to prove electoral fraud or other major manipulations, speculations about the real reasons were rife. Several observers interpreted the boycott as a tactical manoeuvre to improve the parties’ chances for the national elections in 1999. To abstain from any political responsibility was aimed to enable a presentation of the opposition as an impeccable alternative against the ruling party.



Bureaucratic obstacles and provisions within the local election law prevented many independent candidates and smaller parties to participate.



In the presidential elections, Joaquim Chissano received 52.29% of the votes against 47.71% for Dhlakama. In the parliamentary elections, Frelimo succeeded with 48.54% of the votes. RENAMO-UE received only 38.81%.



S Fandrych & A E Ostheimer, Die Parlaments- und Praesidentschaftswahlen in Mosambik: Auf dem Weg zur konsolidierten Demokratie?, Afrika Spectrum 34(3), 1999, pp 401-413.



J Elklit & P Svensson, What makes elections free and fair?, Journal of Democracy 8(3), 1997, pp 32-46.



Although the official elections campaign already started on 19 October, the National Electoral Committee decided only on 8 November on the distribution scheme and the amount of money to be distributed among the parties. Most parties received the first tranche (25%) three weeks after the campaign had already started. As in 1994, it became evident that Frelimo was in the best financial position and disposed the necessary resources to run an efficient campaign right from the beginning.



Article 19, an international organisation directing attention towards press freedom, confirmed that only Radio Moçambique provided an unbiased coverage of the election process. Reporting of the election campaign by the state television TVM and Notícias, Diário de Moçambique and Domingo, all semi-private newspapers, were oriented towards Frelimo. Article 19/Liga dos Direitos Humanos: Media monitoring project Mozambique elections 1999, <www.ifex.org/alerts/view.html2id=5822>.



A detailed report on Mozambique’s 1999 elections covering the whole process from voter registration to the electronic processing of votes has been provided by the Democracy Programme of the Carter Center. See Carter Center, Observing the 1999 elections in Mozambique: Final report, <www.cartercenter.org>.



Public presentation of the report by Direitos Humanos e Desenvolvimento (DHD) on 11 December in Maputo. See also Comissão da Sociedade Civil (ed), Relatório sobre os Acontecimentos de Montepuez, Maputo, 2000.



Relatório de padres locais apontam culpas aos dois lados: Uma tragédia com três versões, Público, 11 January 2001.



Maparamas: Homens à prova de bala, Público, 11 January 2001.



Governador da província moçambicana de Cabo Delgado reage a ameaças da Renamo com um aviso: A Polícia não voltará a ser inocente, Público, 13 January 2001.



G Harrison, Democracy in Mozambique: The significance of multi-party elections, Review of African Political Economy 67, 1996, p 26.



The HDI is a methodology for measuring progress that attempts to go beyond traditional macro-economic indicators. It combines a real adjusted per capita GDP index (PPP dollars) with an educational index and a life expectancy at birth index. Countries with high human development show indices ranging from 0.800 to 0.999. In the category of medium human development are countries with indices between 0.500 and 0.799. Mozambique with a national HDI of 0.285 rates in the category of low human development. UNDP (ed), Mozambique: Economic growth and human development — Progress, obstacles and challenges 1999, UNDP, Maputo, 2000, pp 10-12.



Tribunal Supremo-Departamento de Informação Judicial e Estatística, Estatísticas Judiciais 1999, Maputo, 2000, p 8.



R Tetzlaff, Einleitung: Demokratisierungschancen Afrikas — auch eine Frage der politischen Kultur, in P Meyns (ed), Staat und Gesellschaft in Afrika: Erosions- und Reformprozesse, LIT-Verlag, Hamburg, 1996, p 2.



H Abrahamsson & A Nilsson, Ordem Mundial Futura e Governação Nacional em Moçambique, Padrigm/ CEEI-ISRI, Goeteburg, 1998, p 53.



G Harrison, Corruption as ‘boundary politics’: The state, democratisation, and Mozambique’s unstable liberalisation, Third World Quarterly 20(3), 1999, p 543ff.



M Weber, Wirtschaft und Gesellschaft, (edited by J Winckelmann), J C B Mohr, Tübingen, 1976.



J Hanlon cited in E A Alpers, A family of the state: Bureaucratic impediments to democratic reform in Mozambique, in J Hyslop (ed), African democracy in the era of globalisation, Witwatersrand University Press, Johannesburg, 1999, p 137.



L Diamond, Rethinking civil society: Toward democratic consolidation, Journal of Democracy 5, July 1994, p. 7.



Civil society is conceived as an intermediary entity, standing between the private sphere and the state. It is the realm of organised social life that is voluntary, self-generating, self-supporting, autonomous from the state, and bound by legal order or a set of shared rules. Civil society is concerned with public rather than private ends and relates to the state in some way but does not aim to win formal power or office in the state. Civil society is distinct and autonomous not only from the state and society but also from political society embodied in the party system. Ibid, pp 5ff.



Judge questions secrecy over Cardoso’s case, Panafrican News Agency, 16 January 2001.

ANDREA E OSTHEIMER acts as liaison officer for the Institute for Security Studies in Maputo, Mozambique. Her research focuses on Lusophone African countries, particularly their transformation processes.