Should refugees govern refugee camps?

ABSTRACT

Should refugees govern refugee camps? This paper argues that they should. It draws on normative political thought in consulting the all-subjected principle and an instrumental defense of democratic rule. The former holds that all those subjected to rule in a political unit should have a say in such rule. Through analyzing the conditions that pertain in refugee camps, the paper demonstrates that the all-subjected principle applies there, too. Refugee camps have developed as near distinct entities from their host states. They have formed their own economic, legal and even political systems within which refugees are subjected to political rule. The paper then demonstrates that democratic rule should be preferred over any other decision-making procedure. No amount of experts can replace the institutions that would lead to the accountability of decision-makers and to the incorporation of refugees as situated and epistemically diverse knowers of the problems they face and the solutions that would work best.

KEYWORDS:

• Refugees
• refugee camps
• democracy
• all-subjected principle

Introduction

This paper asks the question: should refugees govern refugee camps? I will answer with ‘yes’. Before we delve into the argument, let me begin with a justification for the idea and with delineating the scope of the argument.

The ethics on refugees has primarily focused on the ethics of admission and the duties liberal democracies possess towards refugees. Theories have tackled the question whom liberal democratic states should grant asylum to, how many refugees they ought to admit, who they can justifiably exclude, whether there are any cessation clauses that limit the time refugees ought to stay in such states (Gibney, 1999, 2004; Miller, 2016; Carens, 1992, 2013; Walzer, 1983, p. 48–51; Miller, 2015; A notable exception is Parekh, 2016, 2014). Such research is, without doubt, valuable, but then a question remains: what about the ethics on refugee situations other than pertaining to the duties of liberal democracies towards refugees?

Most refugees will remain outside of liberal democracies. Currently, Turkey alone hosts more refugees than all the European Union member states combined. The majority remains in the global south. Refugees move to neighboring states, sometimes because their budget does not allow a longer journey to liberal democracies, and sometimes because they want to stay close to home in the hope of being able to return shortly. But there is also another reason that we should not discount. For many refugees the price and the risk of travelling to a liberal democracy is just too high – and liberal democracies are partly responsible for this. They have established barriers and placed hurdles in the ways of refugees attempting to enter liberal democracies. These are not confined to just fences and walls. They include visa regulations requiring pre-arrival permission to enter a state’s territory, which is something that refugees cannot obtain since they are only allowed to launch asylum applications on the territory of a state (Gibney, 2006, pp. 147–148), carrier sanctions and bi-and multi-lateral agreements with other states that aim at curtailing onward movement of refugees in the direction of liberal democracies (Gibney, 2006, p. 148; Collinson, 1996). Liberal democracies thus not only pose a danger to refugees but also contribute to protracted refugee situations in the global south. Some have made a direct connection between the two, arguing that protracted refugee situations were partly caused by the restrictive policies of liberal democratic states of the global north (Slaughter & Crisp, 2009). The question then is: Which ethical guidelines should we follow when considering refugees that remain outside of liberal democratic states and have never attempted to or are barred from entering them?

We will concentrate here on one specific case – refugee camps¹ – and depart from the assumption that characterizes their existence: their protracted nature. That means that we will begin with the assumption that protracted refugee situations are just that: protracted, and that they will not change in the foreseeable future. Refugees in such situations are stuck. None of the three durable solutions outlined by the UNHCR are available to them. No option for repatriation is available, they will not be resettled and will not be locally integrated (Turner, 2015, p. 142; Milner, 2014; Crisp, 2003). Since none of these options are available to them, they typically remain in such situations for long periods of time. At the end of 2014, the UNHCR estimated that refugees remain in protracted refugee situations on average for more than 25 years.² Not all these refugees live in camps, of course. Some remain in rural areas, many in cities. Here, we will consider only one aspect of protracted refugee situations: the life in refugee camps, and ask how to make it more bearable to its inhabitants. What, thus, are the ethical prescriptions in a world in which refugees do not make it to liberal democracies, but remain in refugee camps for the foreseeable future?

At this point, I would like to insert a disclaimer. The question what would make life in a refugee camp more bearable does not entail that it is not preferable that refugees make it to liberal democracies (if they so want) and enjoy the full scope of rights ideally available to refugees there, just as scholarship on the ethics of admission of refugees does not entail that it would not be preferable if there were no refugees at all, no wars and persecuting states. It does not mean that there are not better options for refugees other than staying in camps. Far from it. What it does mean, however, is that we cannot ignore the conditions that we find. Camps exist and the protracted nature of refugee situations indicate that they will remain for the foreseeable future. We will thus not engage with the question of whether camps are good or bad.³ Rather, we intend to ask: given the existence of camps, how should they look like? What would make life in a camp more ethically acceptable? How can life in camps be improved? Now, most camps subject their inhabitants to a cruel form of life. Scholarship by anthropologists and sociologists has shown the detrimental conditions existing in camps (Verdirame & Harrell-Bond, 2005 chapter 4; Crisp, 2000, 2003; Jansen, 2013). Refugees suffer from human rights abuses. They suffer from threats of violence, are restricted in their right to free movement (Verdirame & Harrell-Bond, 2005, p. 179–82; Janmyr, 2016; Kaiser, 2006), the right to work (Betts et al., 2018; Verdirame, 1999, p. 57) as well as rights in their freedom of expression and assembly (Verdirame & Harrell-Bond, 2005, p. 198–200; Verdirame, 2011, p. 286). What is then often suggested is that refugees ought to have certain rights that prevent these violations. In what follows, I will present an argument for why democratizing refugee camps will help in that regard. I will first present the theoretical foundation for this claim and then show why it applies to refugee camps, too.

Democracy: who, where and why

Why should refugees govern refugee camps? To answer this question, we must both show that refugees should be democratically included in refugee camps specifically, as opposed to the host state or any other (international) institution, and that democratic rule in refugee camps should be preferred over any other form of rule in the camps. The first requires us to show that a specific relation exists between refugees and the refugee camps and that this relation warrants democratic inclusion there. The second requires us to show that democratic rule in refugee camps would be valuable. In arguing for both, I will draw on two lines of justification that are analytically distinct but not mutually exclusive of each other. To argue that refugees possess a right to democratic inclusion in refugee camps, I will draw on the all-subjected principle, which however only provides us with an argument for who should be democratically included where. It does not itself provide an argument for why democracy is valuable. To show this, I will draw on an instrumental defense of democratic rule.

The all-subjected principle

The all-subjected principle is one of several principles attempting to justify democratic inclusion. It states that all those subjected to rule by a political unit should have a say in such rule (Fraser, 2008; Näsström, 2011). At the outset it differs from other principles of democratic inclusion only in the formulation of what should lead to such a claim. Other principles, such as the all-affected or all-coerced principles, argue that it should be ‘affectedness’ or ‘coercion’ by a particular decision that grounds a right to democratic inclusion. This answers the question who should be included. Only the all-subjected principle does, however, propose a satisfactory answer to the question where democratic inclusion is warranted.

To demonstrate this, we will need to take a closer look at the relation between the who and the where that the other two principles propose. The all-affected principle holds that all those affected by a political decision ought to have a say in it. There are two possible consequences of this principle. The first is an argument that justifies that everyone should be democratically included everywhere (Goodin, 2007). This conclusion follows from the fact that most decisions possess endlessly continuable ripple effects that affect everyone in some way, somehow, globally. This butterfly effect would then lead either to a claim of democratic inclusion in world-spanning political institutions (Goodin, 2007) or to a network claim of democratic inclusion of all people in (nearly) all states world-wide (cf. Shapiro, 1999). While it may be a good argument for the general desirability of democratic inclusion, it does not provide an answer to any specific questions about democratic inclusion that appear once we are confronted with real-existing political units and individuals that should or should not receive political rights in them. This version of the all-affected principle is as if one would answer the question ‘Should I eat pudding?’ with ‘someone should eat something sometimes’. It does not help solving the immediate dilemma. It does not help with answering the question whether refugees should be democratically included specifically in refugee camps.

A second way to understand the all-affected principle would be to introduce weights to the relations of affectedness, arguing that some should matter more with regards to democratic inclusion than others (Fraser, 2010, p. 292). Whether this implies a normative hierarchy or a cut-off-point regarding the intensity of being affected by a decision, it certainly demands a decision on when a person is sufficiently affected. And who should make this decision? Apart from evoking the paradox of constituent power – who should make the decision on who should make the decision – which can only be circumvented by answering ‘everyone’, this formulation also does not provide us with a satisfactory answer to where one should be included. It would lead to constantly shifting demos, depending on which decisions affect whom.

The all-coerced principle is another principle that is sometimes invoked to justify democratic inclusion. Here, it suffices to show that one specific way to understand this principle is insufficient to delineate who should possess a democratic say where. The principle is sometimes understood to argue that all those coerced by specific decisions ought to have a say in this decision (Tomlinson, 2015, p. 95). Coercion should be understood as triggering a right to participation because it unduly infringes on the autonomy of those coerced. Yet, as David Miller shows, the impact of single coercive decisions could be interpreted as impacting yet not significantly restricting the autonomy of individuals (See the debate between Miller and Abizadeh on coercion and immigration decisions Abizadeh, 2008, 2010; Miller, 2010). A person can be said to be coerced by single immigration decisions, but may still possess a number of other options open to her. This could ultimately be understood as impacting her autonomy without restricting it. After all, if one takes as valid Raz’ idea of autonomy (as do the defenders of this principle), what is required for a people to be autonomous is not that all options are open to them, but merely the availability of an adequate range of options. Understanding the all-coerced principle in this way will lead once again to a decision-dependent demos and worries Miller raises: can one single coercive decision be regarded as sufficiently restricting a person’s autonomy as to trigger a right to democratic inclusion?

To avoid criticisms such as the one levied by Miller, we can then formulate the all-subjected principle as justifying a right to democratic inclusion with regards to a political unit that subjects individuals to political rule, and argue that subjection to political rule should be understood not as subjection to specific potentially coercive decisions, but to continuous threats of coercion. Distinguishing between what impacts and what regulates the autonomy of a people, we can understand ‘subjection to rule’ then to imply a regulation of the range of choices that a people possess and not merely the availability of any one such choice. Subjection to rule then means being subject to coercively backed collectively binding decisions by a political unit that regulate rather than impact the range of choices available to individuals (Bender, 2020; Dahl, 1989). Others also refer to subjection to rule as ‘setting the ground rules for interaction’ (Fraser, 2008, p. 411). I take the underlying meaning of this to align with the autonomy regulating aspect of subjection to rule expressed above.

Subjection to rule then formulates a relationship between those subjected to rule and a political unit that subjects them. Since we can distinguish between what impacts from what regulates the range of choices a person possesses, we can then identify not only who should possess a right to a democratic say, but also the addressee for this claim. It allows us to specify where this claim is directed at. For the principle to apply we will thus need to show not only that refugees are subjected to rule, but that they are subjected to rule by refugee camps as distinct political units. This will be the task of the first following section. It will show that refugee camps are sufficiently distinct from host states as to qualify as political units and that refugees are subjected to rule in them.

The instrumental defense of democratic rule

Note that the all-subjected principle, however, only justifies who should have a say where. It is a principle that justifies democratic inclusion specifically, but does not answer the question why democratic rule is good.⁴ If we want to provide an answer to the question whether refugee camps should be governed democratically, we need to show not only that refugees have a right to democratic inclusion in refugee camps, but also why democracy is warranted in the camps. To this end, I resort to an instrumental defense of democracy not because democracy itself could not be defended otherwise, but because the task of this paper is to show why democracy would be good specifically for refugee camps.

The instrumental account of democracy defends the idea that democracy is valuable because of the quality of its outcomes. That is, it sets itself apart from purely proceduralist accounts of democracy which defend the idea that there are intrinsic aspects to valuing its procedures (Landemore, 2013, p. 8). The instrumental account for democratic rule here should not be taken to mean that there may not also be intrinsic values attached to having a democratic say. Yet, the instrumental account of democracy allows us to show particularly why democratic rule should be the preferred way of decision making in refugee camps. In other words, it shows why the same or better outcomes cannot be achieved by other forms of rule, may they be the introduction of a system of rule of law by UNHCR, or a form of epistocracy granting decision-making powers to supposed experts of humanitarian rule.

The case for an instrumental defense of democracy rests on two reciprocally reinforcing factors. First, it holds that it leads to better outcomes because it institutionalizes feedback loops that generate the accountability of decision-makers. Even where expert decision-makers are aware of the most optimal solutions to a particular problem, they do not always implement them. The accountability of decision-makers to those who are subjected to political rule is key for the implementation of decisions. The reason for this lies in what drives political survival in differently constituted political regimes. Non-democratic regimes that do not rely on the entire constituency for political survival, but on a select sub-group of the population tend to make decisions that guarantee the latter’s continued support even if this is to the detriment of the broader population (Frantz, 2016; De Mesquita et al., 2003).

Second, the instrumental account holds that democratic rule is epistemically superior in that it incorporates and draws on the knowledge of those subjected to rule in a more effective manner than other forms of rule. Some theories show that entire groups reach better decisions than any subset or individual of such groups (cf. Landemore, 2013). The epistemic power of democratic rule, however, lies not only in the greater probability of a group being right as a whole, but specifically in the manner in which it draws on the epistemic diversity of those subjected to rule at various stages of the decision-making process (Anderson, 2006). In complex social settings, political rule will have different consequences for different groups of people. Drawing on their situated knowledge is vital not only for identifying specific problems that appear as (unintended) consequences of decisions made to a specific subgroup of the population. It is also vital in devising solutions that work in tackling these problems efficiently. Those for whom these problems materialize in a specific way often know of the details and mechanisms that would provide workable solutions to them. They are the ones who posses the requisite knowledge to identify the crucial details in making solutions work. Finally, drawing on their knowledge is vital for (re-)evaluating whether these decisions are effective once they are made. This procedural integration of the epistemic power of diverse knowers, combined with the means to act on this knowledge is what distinguishes democratic rule as better placed for making decisions in complex social settings than any other form of rule.

In the following section, we will first show that the all-subjected principle applies to refugee camps. This means that we will show that refugee camps constitute sufficiently distinct political units in which the lives of refugees are governed in a manner that can be described as being subjected to political rule. We will thus show that refugees should possess a right to democratic inclusion specifically with regards to political units that are refugee camps as opposed to holding such a claim with regards to the host states, for instance. In the section thereafter, we will show why democratic governance would be beneficial in and for refugee camps, applying the arguments by the instrumental defense of democratic rule.

The conditions of the all-subjected principle: do they hold for refugee camps?

Does the all-subjected principle apply to the case of refugee camps, too? To recapitulate, let us state again the two conditions that must be met for the all-subjected principle to hold. What is required is subjection to rule by a political unit. These conditions hold for refugee camps, too.

While refugee camps are established on the territory of host states and should thus, according to international refugee law, be part and parcel of their legal and economic systems, they are not de facto. Refugee camps are often located in remote areas of host countries. Often in relative proximity to the countries refugees have left, they are typically far away from bigger cities of host countries, and function as near complete separate entities. Many camps have developed their own distinct social, economic, legal and even political systems. This means that refugees in camps are often subjected to rules and regulations specific to the camps and distinct from those of the host states. Thus, although not ideal, refugee camps are already largely isolated from the broader institutional context of the host country. As we shall see, they form distinct governance structures from those of host states that we can understand as distinct political units. This provides the reason for focusing on the right to self-governance within the camps, as opposed to asking whether refugees should have a right to democratic inclusion in the host countries’ political institutions.

Thus, the right to self-governance does not aim at further entrenching the existence of refugee camps, but rather at bettering the situation of refugees in an already entrenched setting. This does not, however, mean that refugee camps operate autarkically. As we shall see, they have developed their own economic, legal and political microcosms, given the parameters that the host states set. This means that different host states provide different degrees of leeway to refugee camps. This has to do with the effects that refugee camps have on surrounding communities. Some have implemented specific restrictions on the economic activities of refugees in order to protect local communities, others have implemented varying degrees of freedom for refugees to self-regulate security or adjudicate crimes. For this reason, I will not argue for specific democratic institutions. Which democratic institutions and which powers refugees ought to possess depends very much on the different contexts that refugees encounter. Some powers may appear to be immediately feasible for refugees to assume in some contexts, while the parameters set by a host state may exclude the same range of options for other camps. Similarly, different traditions, experiences and (ethnic) compositions within camps make prescribing specific democratic institutions for all camps difficult. While consociationalism, for instance, may be best suited for some, the conditions within other camps may lead to different democratic institutions being preferable. I will thus not ask which democratic institutions are best, nor which specific powers refugees should assume across all camps. This would need to be determined for each specific camp. Just as with different states, different democratic institutions may seem differently well suited depending on the specific contexts. Sidelining the important question whether camps are supposed to implement majoritarian, proportional, mixed or consociationalist systems does not, however, bar asking the question of justification for democratic rule. I will thus not ask what democratic rule should look like but present an argument for why refugee camps should be ruled democratically. Although refugee camps thus differ in their individual set ups and the specifics of the restrictions imposed, the following section will demonstrate why the conditions for the all subjected principle to apply hold in a generalized fashion for closed refugee camps, too. The claim this article makes will thus be generalizable to all refugee camps that satisfy the two conditions named.

Markets: the distinct economic systems of refugee camps

Markets do develop in refugee camps, even though they face severe restrictions from host countries and camp administrations. According to international law, refugees ought to have the right to work within host states (Convention and Protocol Relating to the Status of Refugees, 189, 1967 Article 17 (1)). While not all states have ratified the Convention or the 1967 Protocol amending it, even those who have often do not respect it. While host states often deny refugees the right to work, their retreat from refugee camps and the establishment of legal pluralism allows refugees to establish markets and work within refugee camps, as is the case in the two big refugee camps in Kenya and elsewhere such as in Thailand (Betts et al., 2018, p. 22; McConnachie, 2014, p. 105; For Uganda: Betts et al., 2017 Chapter 6). Depending on the region, additional restrictions on the economic behavior in refugee camps may be applied by host states (Jacobsen, 2002). The Kakuma refugee camp, for example, denies refugees the right to produce charcoal or hold livestock as both make for the main income sources of the local Turkana (Betts et al., 2018, p. 23; For restrictions in the Dadaab camp, see: Horst, 2007, p. 81). Camp administrations also often contribute to setting a restrictive framework for economic activity. One such example is the necessity to seek permits from the camp commander for travelling beyond the perimeters of the camps (Werker, 2007, p. 464). Refugees may, in principle obtain such permits for either medical or economic reasons (Betts et al., 2018, p. 24). In practice, however, refugees are often denied permits to travel for economic reason without justification. It often takes a long time to receive such a permit, and even if one does, they are restricted in duration, not allowing refugees enough time to travel the often-long distances to the most lucrative markets beyond the camp. These restrictions obviously impact economic performance, but markets still exist within camps.⁵ Refugees operate small businesses within camps, trade humanitarian aid for food baskets more appropriate to their diets or for other goods such as cooking fuel or other necessities.⁶ Refugee camp economies function as distinct economic microcosms, which can even feature their own taxation systems. In some camps, the host governments do not levy any taxes at all. In others, municipal taxes may apply, but the camp authorities also charge additional taxes in the form of market participation fees, annual taxes or per bags of produce purchased (Werker, 2007, p. 467). This is not to say that no ties exist between refugee camp economies and the economy of the host state. Supply chains connect refugee camps to markets within the home state (Betts et al., 2018, p. 27, 2017, pp. 121–26). The restrictions on travel for refugees often mean lucrative opportunities for locals who offer transport services of goods produced in refugee camps, often for incredibly high prices (Werker, 2007, pp. 467–468). Refugee camp economies also experience capital injections from remittances sent from abroad (Montclos & Kagwanja, 2000, p. 216). All these, however, do not change the fact that refugee camp economies have developed separately, featuring their own economic imperatives, regulations, customs and connections. Just as the development of markets as autonomous systems in different regions of the world have not meant an autarkic closure and have developed in unison with ties to other economic regions of the world, refugee camp economies are not completely cut off from markets in their home or, in fact, their origin states. Capital injections, imports and exports, however, are processed internally according to the specific rules, regulations and practices of refugee camps – and this makes them distinct economic systems from those of host or origin countries.

The law: the distinct legal systems of refugee camps

From the description of the distinct economic systems developing in refugee camps, one may already sense differences in regulatory frameworks between refugee camps and host states. This is, as refugee camps often mark de facto separate legal systems from those of host states. Many scholars argue that refugee camps are devoid of all law.⁷ They argue that refugee camps are spaces governed in modes of exceptionalism and by means of decisions akin to decrees. This is, however, only the case if one observes refugee camps with the expectation of finding the legal structures of the host states. Then, indeed, refugee camps are devoid of law. If one looks for legally binding structures, the administration of the law and for court systems different than those of the host states, however, one will find distinct legal systems developed in refugee camps. Despite their international legal obligations to grant refugees access to the domestic justice system, refugees living in camps are often denied such access. This has various reasons, ranging from the simple fact that refugee camps are often located in remote areas of the country, to the host state simply refusing to properly administer the law in refugee camps (Da Costa, 2006, pp. 27–31).

This leaves refugee camps to themselves, but it does not coincide with a complete absence of legal structures. Rather, it has given rise to the creation of distinct legal systems within the camps. Most crimes and disputes occurring in camps are also resolved within them (Griek, 2006, p. 2; McConnachie, 2014, pp. 12–13). Again, this may either be because refugees cannot access the host state’s justice system, because of pressure within the camp or because of issues of trust regarding the adjudication of the host state (Da Costa, 2006, p. 37). In most refugee camps, traditional justice systems have replaced the justice system of the host country (Griek, 2006). Even though their power is limited to resolving personal and civic issues, they decide over a wide range of cases stretching from rape to defilement and even murder (Griek, 2006, p. 3; Verdirame & Harrell-Bond, 2005, p. 122). For instance, in the Kakuma camp in Kenya, Sudanese refugees have established bench courts that apply a mix of Sudanese customary and sharia law. When a conflict occurs in the camp, refugees first turn to their group leaders in their respective blocks, refugee caseworkers or Sudanese security officials who in turn refer the case to elders for arbitration in the bench courts. Only when they fail to resolve the issue, the case may be reported onwards to the UNHCR protection unit, other NGO’s or, ultimately, to the Kenyan police. The Dadaab camp features a similar system, albeit without specific locations for the proceedings of the Somali Maslaxad courts (Griek, 2006, pp. 2–4). The Kenyan camps are not, however, unique in this regard. Conflict resolution is left to the inhabitants of camps in other countries as well, such as Thailand, Ghana, Ethiopia, Pakistan, Bangladesh, and Yemen (Da Costa, 2006, p. 37; Holzer, 2013, p. 858; McConnachie, 2014, pp. 12–13).

The legal systems that have developed in the camps are not only distinct in terms of adjudication of conflict. They are also separate from the legal systems of the host states in terms of the execution of sentences. They reach and execute these independently from the host state, often with the active help of the UNHCR (Verdirame & Harrell-Bond, 2005, p. 123). The camps often operate their own prisons. In Kenya each bench court runs its own detention cells (Griek, 2006; Verdirame & Harrell-Bond, 2005, pp. 121–22). Sentences do not only include payment of fines and compensation to the victims or their families, but also corporeal punishment such as lashing and caning or imprisonment and do not necessarily correspond with the legal codes of the host countries (Griek, 2006, p. 3–5; Verdirame, 1999, p. 63). The evolution of distinct legal systems in refugee camps thus also poses dangers to refugees. The courts are subject to few checks and balances, and the elders are often unchecked in their power (Da Costa, 2006, p. 8; Griek, 2006, p. 5). This leads to the elders regularly abusing their power. The fines and monetary compensations that they impose on the perpetrators of crimes and misdemeanors often do not end up with the victims and their families but are kept by the elders (Verdirame, 1999, p. 63). Such a system that runs largely independently from the host state’s judicial system, in which the elders are unchecked and representation of minorities and women is rare, is wide open to discrimination. Consequently, they often suffer under the sentences reached in the camps. When unmarried women are raped or abducted in the camps, the perpetrators are often charged with paying a compensation or fine to the family and, if they accept the ruling, the woman is sent to live with the rapist or abductor (Griek, 2006, p. 3–4; Verdirame & Harrell-Bond, 2005, pp. 121–23). If this happens, the cases are not classified as rape or abduction, but are treated as elopement, adultery or dowry issues. The lack of checks and balances on the courts thus often hurts the ones most vulnerable and results in the blatant absence of concern for women’s rights and well-being. Without such controls, the legal systems of refugee camps often lack key features of the rule of law such as equality before the law or due process.

Power: the distinct political systems of refugee camps

The retreat of host states from refugee camps leaves the UNHCR and contracting NGOs in charge of a clearly defined territory with its own population, legal and economic systems and its own governance structure Slaughter & Crisp, 2009, p. 8). The competencies of host states are transferred nearly completely to humanitarian actors, leaving them in charge not only of organizing security, but also with significant power through setting the ground rules of interaction by controlling the distribution and composition of aid, registering and documenting refugees, administering and managing the camps, ensuring access to shelter, food, water, health care and education (Turner, 2006, p. 767). They have assumed the role of sovereigns in refugee camps, ruling without checks and balances.⁸

The UNHCR governs the refugee camps in several distinct ways. Their power begins quite literally at the camps’ doorsteps. In many cases, the host states have ceded the responsibility to determine refugee status to the UNHCR, giving it the power to decide over access to the camps and, in a metaphorical but not too distant way, over ‘citizenship’ within it (Verdirame & Harrell-Bond, 2005, p. 81 et. seqq.; Harrell-Bond, 2002, p. 64; Kinchin, 2016). The power of the UNHCR does not extend in any direct way beyond the perimeters of the camps. Locals have no access to the services offered within the camps and do not receive aid. Even though the presence of refugee camps severely impacts the regions around them, they are part and parcel of different regulatory, economic and political systems, which may, at best, be irritated but are never directly controlled in the way these systems operate in the refugee camps (Montclos & Kagwanja, 2000, p. 218; Betts et al., 2018).

The UNHCR and contracting NGOs also control the budget and the exercise of nearly all services provided in the camps. Education, health and sanitary services are coordinated by them, with its refugee employees on their payroll. The same is the case for security officers. Even though host states have committed to providing for security within the camps, refugee security officers paid and coordinated by the UNHCR have taken over policing functions in many cases (Turner, 2006, p. 763). The UNHCR is also in charge of the distribution and composition of aid. To that end, it regularly performs headcounts in the camps in order to re-evaluate needs and food rations (Verdirame & Harrell-Bond, 2005, p. 139; Harrell-Bond et al., 1992). The power to distribute food should therefore not only be regarded as a humanitarian service and thus as only a positive sanction. Dependency on food rations, especially in the light of refugees being economically constrained, can be easily turned into threats of negative sanctions. The power to distribute food is also the power to withhold it. In two separate occasions this power was exercised by the UNHCR in the Kakuma refugee camp. Following a protest over a change in the distribution of aid in 1994, the UNHCR simply suspended the distribution of food for 21 days and again in 1996 for 14 days (Verdirame & Harrell-Bond, 2005, pp. 193–94).

The UNHCR often quite literally sets the ground rules for interaction in the camps and has not shied away from disciplinary actions when refugees have disobeyed. In several instances, camp administrations have simply deported critical refugees to other camps or fired them when they were employed by humanitarian agencies (Jansen, 2013, p. 126; Lecadet, 2016, p. 197; Verdirame, 1999, pp. 64–65). Even when refugees were allowed to set up popular committees in the camps, the UNHCR has remained in charge (Hanafi & Long, 2010). Where refugees can delegate representatives, they assume roles akin more to those of aides to the camp administration rather than representatives of their constituency. Often, these representatives are therefore distrusted by the refugees who see them instead as collaborators of the camp commanders. This is not surprising. These committees usually do not possess any real decision-making power and the representation of refugees is allowed only as long as the camp administration sees it fit (Olivius, 2013, p. 48). In several instances, the UNHCR has simply cancelled elections when their outcomes were not to their liking or have exchanged elected representatives with refugees more friendly to the camp administration (Agier, 2011, pp. 156–57). The UNHCR and contracting NGOs thus exercise political rule in the camps not only by means of administering the services and controlling the rules tied to accessing these, but also by wielding direct executive power over individuals (Janmyr, 2016, p. 414; Jaji, 2011). They make collectively binding decisions within the perimeters of the camps in setting the ground rules for interaction within them. The emergence of different autonomous (but not autarkic) social subsystems has thus not only meant the establishment of distinct rules, regulations, and logics of social relationships inside the camps as compared to beyond them. It has also allowed for a specific form of political rule to be established particularly with regards to the inhabitants of the camps. This rule, though not having established itself over all aspects of social life, certainly has such aspirations. Though other aspects of social life have evolved in parallel, despite of, or because of the tacit consent of the UNHCR, it remains the de facto sovereign of the camps. It reserves the power not only to impact, but to regulate the autonomy of refugees. Even where it does not yet control all aspects of social life, the establishment of distinct legal and economic subsystems both leave the room and the aspirations to do so.

The conditions for the all-subjected principle to apply, thus hold. This allows the identification of who should be democratically included where. Refugee camps have developed their own economic, legal and even political systems. They function as separate entities in which the autonomy of refugees is regulated by political units distinct from the host states. Refugees in refugee camps are subjected to political rule. Hence, they ought to have a say in such rule in refugee camps specifically.⁹

Why should refugee camps be self-governed?

So far, we have established that the conditions for the all-subjected principle to apply, hold. This has given us an argument for the democratic inclusion of refugees with regards to refugee camps specifically. Yet, it does not provide us with an answer to the question why democracy would be valuable as a form of rule in the camps. Drawing on the two aspects of the instrumental defense of democracy, I will show that democratic rule is superior to any other form of rule in the camps because it 1) allows for institutionalized feedback loops that generate accountability to those who inhabit the camps, and 2) because it draws on the epistemic diversity of the situated knowledge that refugees possess.

Democratic control and accountability

The lack of security for refugees and the violation of their human rights in refugee camps is often a consequence of a lack of accountability of the institutions that govern them. One example is the prevalence of sexual violence in refugee camps. The lack of accountability of institutions in the camps results in such issues often remaining unaddressed, where women have no power of changing structures and rules that endanger them, or unresolved and hidden where the perpetrators are the ‘protectors’. In the Dadaab refugee camp, women are required to fetch firewood as cooking fuel from outside of the camps, and this is where 80% of the rapes occur that make for a near daily phenomenon in the lives of the women in the camp (Crisp, 2000, p. 605; Napier-Moore, 2005, p. 8). If women were in a position of power that would allow them to control the conditions that govern their lives, these structures that pose imminent dangers to them could be easily changed. One such solution would be to simply require men to fetch the firewood beyond the perimeters of the camps instead of sending women into scenarios of danger – a solution which was even proposed during a workshop in Dadaab in 1998 (Verdirame & Harrell-Bond, 2005, p. 148). Since rapes also often occur at night, women have pressed for installing lighting systems along the main paths of the camps (Crisp, 2000, p. 632). Another structure giving rise to sexual abuse is tied to the food distribution system. Where men are in charge for distributing food, they are put into a position of power that is frequently abused by demanding sexual favors in exchange for food (Friedman, 1992, p. 68; Fowler et al., 2000, p. 2). Here, too, the solution would be simple. The institutions that set the rules and control the environments that pose imminent dangers to women need to be accountable to them. Women need to be in positions of power to protect their security. This does not mean that such (sometimes simple) solutions will always be immediately successful. Social norms may complicate their implementation. Yet, as the chairwoman of an anti-rape committee in Dadaab has pointed out, it could lead to better and broader strategies in protecting from sexual violence (ADDIN Mendeley Bibliography CSL_BIBLIOGRAPHY Abdelnour, S, 2015, p. 208). Thus, while not being perfect, it allows for coming up with better strategies than if women were not able to participate in democratic decision-making.

Yet, in camps in which the voices of refugees count for little to nothing, their concerns will remain unheard and unaddressed. The reason for this is simple. The UNHCR and the NGOs are not accountable to those they govern. Rather, they are accountable to their donors, and to them little matters other than the food per refugee ratio (Harrell-Bond, 2002, p. 68; Verdirame & Harrell-Bond, 2005, p. 17; Malkki, 1996). In many instances, cases of sexual violence also remain unresolved and hidden because the perpetrators are part of the governing bodies. Rape at the hand of police and security forces is not uncommon, and the powerless positions that refugees are in result in little room for reporting and charging those responsible. If the institutional structures of refugee camps would put women in a position to change the conditions in which they live, much would be won. In some instances, one of the biggest problems is that women are not allowed to move away from the perpetrators of sexual violence and are, as a consequence, in constant danger without being able to escape (Verdirame & Harrell-Bond, 2005, p. 143).

Another instance in which controlling the institutions that govern the conditions in which refugees live would benefit refugees concerns the conditions of the economic systems that have evolved in refugee camps. Many of the restrictions that are put in place and hinder economic performance in refugee camps could be easily overcome. One such barrier are the already mentioned permits that refugees require in order to travel outside the camps for business. In camps where the camp administration is not accountable to refugees and no transparency exists, these permits are sometimes given to refugees and sometimes not, without justification for either decision, and despite their rights in obtaining such permits for economic reasons. The same goes for taxes levied in the camps and other similar restrictions. Such arbitrary rule and regulatory uncertainty have detrimental effects on the economic possibilities for refugees and small changes could have great positive effects for refugees (Werker, 2007, p. 466). Even where possible solutions are readily apparent, the lack of accountability and refugee-control means that these are not necessarily implemented. Democratic control would allow refugees to pressure authorities to act on such knowledge. This shows the need for democratically controlled institutions as opposed to epistrocracies of UNHCR led ‘experts’ who make decisions for those whom they are not accountable towards. The feedback loops involved with democratic decision-making would also allow for a continuous adaptation if experience shows that solutions do not work. This brings us to the second aspect that speaks in favor of democratic rule in refugee camps: the epistemic diversity and situated knowledge of refugees that is required to identifying problems and tackling them efficiently.

Democracy and the epistemic power of refugees

The issue of sexual violence in the camps also points towards the importance of democratic institutions from an epistemic perspective. Democratic rule in the camps should be preferred to any other form of rule, because it draws on the situated knowledge of refugees, on their experiences with the consequences of (a lack of) decisions made for the camp inhabitants. Only where refugees can effectively exercise their right of freedom of expression, assembly as well as political rights, can they identify what goes wrong in refugee camps and where threats to them lie. Even where humanitarian actors do not intentionally violate the rights of refugees, they are often unaware of threats. The case of sexual violence described above is just one example – the women in the camps possess specific knowledge of the consequences of decisions that result in dangers to them as they do of effective ways to combat these. Others include the distribution and composition of aid and issues surrounding cooking fuel provision in the camps. Being governed in a top-down fashion, humanitarian organizations are often not aware of the traditional diets of those they provide food for. When refugees sell their food rations, this is not a sign of affluence but of distress and a result of the lack of information decision-makers have. Sudanese refugees in Kakuma, for instance, sell their wheat flower not because they have too much of it, but because they need to acquire food that matches their traditional diet – millet, sorghum, maize flour and cassava flour (Montclos & Kagwanja, 2000, p. 217). Democratic participation may, of course, not always lead to refugees being able to receive everything they need. The provision of food also depends on food donors and the World Food Program (WFP) which often have limited capacities. Yet, providing refugees with the ability to voice their concerns, and advocate for what they need may be an important step in better coordinating donor capacities and recipient needs. This is crucial, not only for the well-being of refugees, but for the ability of Organizations such as the WFP to fulfil its obligations. The WFP’s general regulations and rules include the provision that refugee’s food needs must be met (Clay, 2003, p. 702). Food needs, however, are not only defined by the number of calories a person requires to survive, but also by the composition of food baskets specific to a population. The participation of refugees may allow for a better allocation of funds to meet the specific needs refugees identify. This means that though donor funding remains important, it should not determine decision-making in the camps (though it may pose external limitations to what can be decided). Democratic institutions would allow refugees to enter into negotiations with donors, eventually leading to better evaluations of what is needed (drawing on the epistemic power of refugees), as well as better allocation of resources.

Humanitarian agencies often have no information on the consumption needs and patterns of refugees. As a consequence of not including refugees in the process, they essentially operate in the dark (Waldron, 1988, p. 155). The demand for supplementary food rations in refugee camps is normally expected to slope downwards and level off, as only newly arriving children, pregnant women or those suffering from diseases need supplementary food rations. Yet, for instance, in Somali camps, the demand for supplementary food rations spiked in cycles. The WFP and the UNHCR assumed that the spikes are due to fewer children showing up to the supplementary distribution centers than should have or because the estimates of those needing the food rations were inaccurate and the food distributing officers merely handing out additional food even though they should not (Waldron, 1988, pp. 162–163). They were, in fact, wrong. As Waldron points out, knowledge of Somalia and its culture would have provided the governing humanitarian agencies with the requisite information (Waldron, 1988, p. 163). The reason for the spikes in demand, she shows, is related to the rainy seasons in Somalia and the cyclical availability of food supplies. The rain either made it difficult to transport food to the camps, spiked market prices and thus affected refugee’s access to food or caused diseases such as malaria or diarrhea, making supplementary food rations necessary (Waldron, 1988, pp. 163–164). The problem was that the governing humanitarian agencies did not know what was going on. Such misinformation of decision-makers could easily be avoided by installing a representative system, allowing refugees to voice their grievances.

Drawing on the situated knowledge of an epistemically diverse refugee population would also allow for an earlier identification of (public) problems. To name just one example, take the lack of cooking fuel in the camps. Because humanitarian organizations provide refugees mainly with food that requires cooking, but not with cooking fuel, refugee women venture beyond the perimeters of the camp in search for firewood. As elaborated on above, this often poses real dangers to them, and sexual violence is frequent. Yet, it also puts severe strain on their health otherwise. Camps of the size of Kakuma and Dadaab quickly deplete available close by resources. The women must thus walk up to 15 km for finding firewood outside of the camp – and return with it (weighing 60 to 90lb) in one day. For many women, this has severe consequences on their health, not only due to carrying the heavy loads, but also because the food rations provided do not account for such heavy work – the WFP calculates food needs for ‘moderately active persons’ (Waldron, 1988, p. 157). For many, this is a task they cannot perform, and families need to sell food in order to buy firewood from others (Waldron, 1988, pp. 156 et. seqq.). This has, of course, detrimental effects, as food in the camps is often scarce. Especially the women in these refugee camps thus possess a specific form of knowledge that would allow for the identification of such problems far prior to these having effects on their health (and the environment around the camps) that are visible to the camp administrators.

The situated knowledge of refugees in the camps finally allows for the identification of public issues. Take the case of the headcounts performed by the UNHCR in refugee camps. To the governing bodies of camps, these are instruments for evaluating and adapting how camps are administered. They are a form of revalidation for the amounts of aid needed. In the process of counting refugees, new ration cards are distributed and the periodic headcounts thus serve as monitoring and documenting accurate numbers which are, in turn, needed to assure funding from donors (Verdirame & Harrell-Bond, 2005, p. 139). For refugees, however, headcounts represent clear violations of their personal autonomy. They appear not as administrative necessities but as public problems that require different solutions, as is shown by their oft expressed discontent with the processes and by protests against them (Harrell-Bond, 2002, p. 61). They perceive the underlying assumption to be that refugees are generally not trustworthy and that headcounts need to be performed to discover cheating in obtaining more than one ration card. Yet, they also view these as violations because of the procedures involved in counting refugees in the camps. Harrell-Bond and Verdirame describe the procedure as follows.

‘Refugees are forced in enclosures, sometimes referred to as ‘corrals’, like cattle, often having to wait in the scorching sun for many hours; the whole process is managed in a cold, impersonal, and bureaucratic manner, engendering a sense of humiliation. Finally, body markings, albeit not indelible, are seen as debasing. For individuals who have already suffered a loss of social status and whom aid has made “powerless”, an imprinted symbol of humiliation can seem like a stigma.’ (Verdirame & Harrell-Bond, 2005, p. 140)

Contrary to the humanitarian actors governing the camps, headcounts are perceived by refugees as deep violations of their personal autonomy and as treatment undeserving for human beings. Democratic rule in the camps would allow refugees to flag these issues – issues that appear differently to the humanitarian ‘experts’ of camp administrations than to refugees themselves. It would allow decisions to draw on the situated knowledge of those subjected to rule, ultimately leading to better decisions than those which can be reached by the supposed epistocracy of UNHCR government.

Conclusion

This paper has argued that refugees should govern refugee camps. It has departed from the assumption that protracted refugee situations will remain just that: protracted, and that refugees living in camps will do so for the foreseeable future. It argued, using the all-subjected principle, that all those subjected to rule by a political unit should have a say in such rule. It has demonstrated that refugee camps function as separate economic, legal and political systems, constituting distinct political units in which the UNHCR and contracting NGOs govern the lives of refugees by setting the ground rules for interaction in the camps. The conditions for the all-subjected principle to apply, thus hold. Refugees are subjected to rule specifically by the political units that are refugee camps. The last section of the paper has demonstrated the value of democratization for refugees living in camps. It has argued that democracy leads to better outcomes than any other decision-making process, due to institutional feedback loops generating the accountability of decision-makers, and due to the ability to draw on the epistemic diversity of the refugee population, allowing for better identification of problems and more effective solutions.

It should be said that democratizing refugee camps does not provide a guarantee for solving all issues occurring within them, but it wrests the control over the lives of refugees out of the hands of UNHCR and NGOs, who are ultimately only accountable to donors, and places it into the hands of those whose lives are at stake: refugees themselves. While not guaranteeing to resolve all issues, democratizing refugee camps may go a long way in making life in refugee camps more bearable. We may thus return to the question with which this article has begun. It read: ‘Should refugees govern refugee camps?’ The answer is: ‘yes’.

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Additional information

Notes on contributors

Felix Bender

Felix Bender is a Postdoctoral Research Fellow at the Max Planck Institute for the Study of Religious and Ethnic Diversity in Göttingen, Germany. His work focuses on the political philosophy and ethics on refugees. In the past, he has written on the normative foundations of refugeehood as well as on the democratic inclusion of refugees.

Notes

1. Not all refugees outside of liberal democracies remain in camps. UNHCR estimates that about 60% live elsewhere (not counting millions of Palestinians living in camps).

2. See: https://www.unhcr.org/innovation/10-infographics-that-show-the-insane-scale-of-the-global-displacement-crisis/ Last accessed: 4.3.2019.

3. For the benefits and why states often prefer camps as a form of sanctuary in the global south: (Crisp & Jacobsen, 1998; Bakewell, 2014, p. 134; Holzer, 2013), 846; For arguments against refugee camps: (Black, 1998; Harrell-Bond, 1998; Kaiser, 2006).

4. Some authors may interpret the all-subjected principle to also justify the value of democracy. Here I take the more minimal approach in defending that the principle only justifies who should be democratically included where. It is important to note that the alternative view on the principle does not undermine the argument of the paper but would provide an alternative route to justifying democratically governed refugee camps.

5. For the difficulties obtaining travel documents and the impact on economic performance in refugee camps: (Werker, 2007), 464–65.

6. For trade and other forms of capital generation to satisfy traditional diets in camps in Kenya: (Montclos & Kagwanja, 2000), 212, 216–17; For an overview of livelihood activities in Kakuma, see (Omata, 2016), 15–16. For economic activity in Dadaab, Horst (2007, pp. 85–86).

7. See especially scholarship that operates with the concept of ‘bare life’, suggesting that de facto no law applies in refugee camps (Agamben, 1998, pp. 168 et. seqq.)

8. Some even argue that the humanitarian government possesses resorts akin to government ministries (Agier, 2011, pp. 81, 201). That it is mainly UNHCR de facto governing refugee camps (where it is deployed) is a little disputed fact amongst scholars in refugee studies (Harrell-Bond, 2002, p. 59; Janmyr, 2016, p. 414; Jansen, 2013, p. 116; Wilde, 1998, p. 107).

9. Note that even if decisions taken within refugee camps affect neighboring communities, these are only affected by and not subjected to rule. While this may trigger a duty to take their interests into consideration or lead to host states limiting the governance of camps, it does not trigger a right to participation (Owen, 2012, p. 146).