Environmental Crime in Sub-Saharan Africa – A Review and Future Challenges

This special issue of Politikon draws our attention to an under-research topic in political science and international relations, namely environmental crime.¹ As will be expanded on extensively in the issue, environmental crimes may involve a number of actors including host governments, states, rebel or terrorist groups, corporations and most of the time organised criminal organisations. Focusing on the interaction between these actors and the criminal act itself, forms the cornerstone of the majority of research done on environmental crime. Unsurprisingly, the theme of state capacity (or lack thereof) is also reoccurring. Recently, environmental crimes have been placed back on the international agenda, and this is not only because of the moral and ethical realisation that we are ruining our planet. This is also because of the link between environmental crime and security, as terrorist groups are increasingly linked to environmental crimes (United Nations Environment Programme [UNEP] and INTERPOL 2016) and as expected there has been a significant increase.

On 5 June 2016, World Environment Day was celebrated with the theme: zero tolerance for the illegal wildlife trade. This comes at the backdrop of a report released by UNEP and INTERPOL indicating a significant increase in global environmental crime. Some staggering statistics read as follows:

• The illegal wildlife trade is by some estimated at 7–23 billion USD per year

• Environmental crime is now estimated to be ca. 91–258 billion USD (2016) annually, a 26% increase from previous estimate in 2014.

• Environmental crimes is rising by 5–7% annually—2–3 times the rate of the global economy.

• Losses of government revenues through lost tax income due to criminal exploitation account for at least 9–26 billion USD annually.

• Forestry crimes including corporate crimes and illegal logging account for an estimated 51–152 billion USD;

• Illegal fisheries an estimated 11–24 billion USD,

• Illegal mining estimated at 12–48 billion USD;

• Waste at 10–12 billion USD (UNEP and INTERPOL 2016, 7).

In addition, global trends indicate that criminals are increasingly branching out to other areas of environmental crime, for example, the transfer and dumping of e-waste, with African countries often the site of dumping. Although wildlife crime and endangered species, and trafficking in gold, diamonds and other precious stones and metals are regarded as priority crimes by the Southern African Regional Police Chiefs Co-operation Organisation, we seem to be losing the war against wildlife crime on the continent. As scholars of political science and international relations, our contribution lies in placing this topic as priority on the research agenda and unpacking and exposing the complexity of networks and actors involved.

This, however, is easier said than done. Research on environmental crime is challenging for a number of reasons, which include and are not limited to:

1. Lack of data

Topics are often under research in political science and international relations. Therefore, researched topics are often new and fresh, but venture into under-researched territory, for example, Lambrechts and Hector, in this issue. As a result, the researcher will first have to provide an extensive theoretical literature survey and an in-depth understanding of the history and evolution of the crime, as illustrated in this issue by Ramutsindela. Then, a significant amount of time will be spent at the research site, in order to collect primary data (as can be noted from the majority of articles in the issue). Data are collected over years in order to identify themes and trends, see Shaw and Rademeyer, and Hübschle, Lambrechts and Goga.

1. Reliability of data

Research on any type of crime brings up the topic of reliability of data (mostly statistics) as illustrated in the article by Harvey, and even the legal trade of a protected commodity such as ivory. Weak state capacity, as highlighted by Lambrechts and Goga and Lambrechts and Hector, hampers first the collection of data by state actors, but also the accuracy of the data. Corrupt state agencies have very little incentive to release crime statistics, if they exist at all. Furthermore, when researching issues related to crime and criminality, one category of respondents will always be the criminal. Again, this category of respondents has no incentive to tell the truth and provide reliable data. As a result, triangulation of methods is essential in order to validate data (key informant interviews, observation and focus groups/small group discussions).

1. Ethical considerations

When researching environmental crime, we often have to rely on gatekeepers in order to facilitate the process of snowball sampling. If access is gained, several other ethical questions arise when doing research on sensitive topics as this. As described by Lambrechts (2014, 260):

… Can deception or misinterpretation while dealing while dealing with the research subject be avoided? Will the identities of the research interests of all parties involved in the study be protected? Can the confidentiality of the information provided during the research process be guaranteed?

In addition to this, it is inevitable that the researcher will be confronted with the criminal act itself, and the ethical dilemma is what to do with such information, but also protect your respondents (Lambrechts 2014). As mentioned before, all of these challenges can be overcome by data-cross checking, triangulation and extensive field work.

Another challenge for researchers is how to tackle this mammoth research topic. One angle is to take a regional approach: the spread of environmental organised crime is of course global, but the nature/commodity of the crime is dependent on the region. This issue specifically looks at sub-Saharan Africa and of course for southern Africa the focus is on the illicit trade in ivory. The majority of the issue is thus dedicated to rhino/elephant poaching and trade (licit/illicit) in ivory. In the first article, Ramutsindela examines under what conditions poaching became or is seen as a security issue. In order to answer this question, he provides a historical overview by tracing the changing meanings of the poacher and their relations to security during the Cold War and in post-apartheid South(ern) Africa. In contrast to other areas of the world (North America and Europe) evidence from the history of poaching in South(ern) Africa shows that the link between poaching and global security is tenuous. Poaching was more a conservation than a global security issue during the creation of protected areas in the region. He further argues that the current rhino poaching crisis in the Kruger National Park and the use by the military to protect the border with Mozambique rather manifests as security anxieties, and not risks. The rhino poaching crisis appears a test for the capacity of the democratic state to defend its sovereignty over natural resources against outsiders. Ramutsindela refers to the genealogy of poaching and states that if we want to fully comprehend the poaching–security interface in different contexts and at various levels; we have to pay adequate attention to the genealogy of poaching and environmentally related security concerns.

Continuing on the topic of poaching in the Kruger National Park and security, Shaw and Rademeyer focus on green militarisation and agree with Ramutsindela that militarisation within SANParks has not been matched by what commentators have sought to identify: a wider ‘national security’ response to rhino horn. While there is evidence of the increased militarisation of the response in the Kruger National Park, they argue that the term green militarisation runs the risk of simplifying what is in reality a complex and more contested process than is being given credit for. They unpack the concepts of militarisation (in the context of the Kruger National Park) and rhinofication of security and analyse the institutions of green militarisation (the military, SANParks and the police) to reach the following conclusion: if researchers and policy-makers want to retain this concept as a successful analytical tool, at least in the context of the Kruger National Park, it requires drawing on a wider range of sources and a better understanding of processes of political and institutional change outside of the immediate conservation discussion.

Still on the topic of security and the ivory trade, Hübschle in her article Security Coordination in an Illegal Market: The Transnational Trade in Rhinoceros Horn argues that despite a plethora of measures in order to curb the flow of wildlife contraband there has been limited success in disrupting these markets. She focuses on security precautions of illegal market actors at the source and en route to consumer markets and notes that the label of ‘organised crime’ is of limited use unless the concept bridges the legal/illegal divide, incorporating actors from the legal and criminal realm. As in Shaw and Rademeyer, and Lambrechts and Goga, reference is made to the idea of the criminal as the other and the stigmatisation of foreign criminals while the role of local crime syndicates, wildlife industry players, and state actors remains unacknowledged or is downplayed. She highlights the need for a deeper understanding of actors and their relationships to develop regulatory and criminal justice interventions that disrupt illegal markets and transnational flows in the long-term.

In the final article on the ivory trade, Harvey analyses the risks and fallacies associated with promoting a legalised trade in ivory. He states that there is an argument that flooding the market with a legal supply of ivory will drive prices downward, eroding the incentive for poaching and that these advocates suggest that the current international ban on trading ivory is to blame for creating an artificially high price. Harvey argues that this rhetoric is inadequate and entails implausible assumptions. The dynamics of supply and demand probably work differently to how pro-trade economists typically argue they work. He concludes that the major risk entailed in creating a legal market for ivory is that it may well fail to reduce the price of ivory. Indeed, most credible models of illicit wildlife trade caution against legalising the trade if legal and illegal markets are closely linked. In the case of ivory, this seems to be the case, and thus legal ivory would serve as an expedient cover for illicit ivory. Any attempts to legalise the trade therefore risk undermining the efficacy of demand reduction campaigns and may confuse the market as to whether trade will again become legitimate.

The last two articles move away from the ivory trade and focus on less researched environmental crimes: abalone poaching and hazardous waste disposal. In their article Money and Marginalisation: The Lost War Against Abalone Poaching in South Africa, Lambrechts and Goga investigate the link between state capacity and the abalone poaching industry in South Africa. They argue that poaching can be traced back to the architecture of the apartheid state and the lack of development in marginalised communities. As with the illicit ivory trade, they illustrate that the poaching industry involves a number of actors and the process is both organised and transnational. As mentioned, they argue that it is not correct to blame the other when dissecting the increase in abalone poaching. To focus solely on criminal groups and to see the criminal as an outsider from society and a dangerous member of a distinct racial and social group disregards history and the policies of the state which are contributory factors to on-going poaching.

As mentioned earlier, one challenge to do research on environmental crime is the magnitude of the topic. This special issue attempted to focus on research of main importance and relevance to the southern African region, but also to expose topics for future research in sub-Saharan Africa, for example, the last article on hazardous waste disposal and state capacity in Africa. Lambrechts and Hector state hazardous waste disposal was in the past not defined as a serious environmental crime as the crime is mostly victimless. The illicit hazardous waste disposal industry involves illegal companies, disposal methods, terrorist and organised criminal groups. They examine illicit hazardous waste disposal (e-waste) on the African continent, against the backdrop of Green Theory and Green Criminology. Although tons of e-waste makes its way illegally into Africa from the developed North, large volumes are produced domestically. Such sites provide a source of income for thousands of people, but the local environment (plus human health) is damaged. Due to limited state capacity there are few examples of Green States on the continent. Hazardous waste disposal on the African continent and specifically e-waste is a very complex subject that warrants much more research. Although this article argues that the e-waste dilemma exists due to limited state capacity, it also highlights a few avenues for further research for example the involvement of terrorist groups and organised criminal groups as non-state actors in e-waste disposal; e-waste policy implementation and regulation; North–South cooperation (or lack thereof) and toxic colonialism and multinational corporations-state relations.

Notes

1. Environmental crime refers to any criminal act harming the environment.