From ‘guns and fences’ to paternalism to partnerships: the slow disentangling of Africa’s protected areas. THE ASTONISHING DIVERSITY of the African continent encompasses species-rich tropical forests, great savannas and grasslands, deserts, coral reefs, mountains, and coastal and freshwater ecosystems. From the most distant past until just a few centuries ago, the overall impact of African people on their environment remained, in all likelihood, inconspicuous. The one possible exception is the use of fire, which could have favoured the modification of woody and other ecosystems. The abundance and variety of wildlife, however, appears to have been only marginally affected by the African autochthonous hunters, with ancient extinction phenomena taking place only for climatic reasons. The European explorers, colonists and missionaries who travelled en masse to Africa in the last centuries sent back amazed reports: they found dense and unscathed forests and pristine landscapes, teeming with wildlife. Relatively little is known about African pre-colonial conservation practices. Low population densities, highly adapted agricultural and hunting practices, and the general mobility of the population are likely to have promoted adaptive patterns of resource use. When resources came under pressure from increased human populations or economic activity, a likely response was to move to new and more resource-abundant areas or to develop technological innovations, such as pastoralism, slash and burn agriculture, water harvesting, and the development of institutional regulation of resource use. Cultural responses, including ritual, myths, taboos, social stratification and social rules regarding sacred spaces and species, survive to the present and must have been an important component of autochthonous natural resource management systems through time. Colonialism created entirely new conditions and issues. Historians have only recently begun analysing the role that wild animals, besides other natural resources, played in subsidising the nascent settler economies of African colonies. Ivory was a primary object of the chase involving hunters, missionaries, adventurers and engineers, but ostrich feathers, rhino horn, hippo teeth, meat and hides, and the collection of specimens for sale to natural museums and zoological gardens in Europe also took their toll. Hunting, using high precision rifles, was mostly done to subsidise the new settlers, but progressively also became a way to protect the growing cattle industry. It was believed that, since diseases were transmitted by wild animals to cattle, wild animals had to be reduced in number and confined. Carnivores also needed to be reduced, to prevent their predation of domestic animals. In some parts of the continent, notably southern Africa, these practices literally decimated wildlife. This went as far as the extinction of certain species—in the Cape Colony of South Africa, the blue buck (Hippotragus leucophaeus) was extinct by 1800, and the quagga (Equus quagga) by 1883. As a reaction, game legislation ensued. This was not the only response. Some African rulers also took action and set up permit and levy systems for European hunters, as well as game reserves for the local kings. The white settlers, however, soon got the upper hand when they established, in a large part of the continent, a rough tripartite division of land use: land for the whites, land for the blacks and land for game. This division was imposed by force, and such colonial force, indeed, was the primary means by which the new protectionist regimes for the ‘conservation of nature’ were 2 PARKS Vol 13 No 1 CONSERVATION PARTNERSHIPS IN AFRICA 2003 established in many countries. A net separation between the authorities, local communities and wildlife was imposed, glossing over any kind of responsibility about early wildlife depletion and severing any sense of community ownership or responsibility for natural resources. With this went the increasing perception that hunting was a ‘marker of class’. Initially it was reserved for the whites, and then only to the whites of higher status or influence. The hunting reserves for the elites were established close to the land destined for the game to recover – the early ‘protected areas’. Meanwhile, resident local communities were expelled from both. This brief recollection of elements of recent history in the African continent merely gives us a glimpse of the socio-political events intertwined with conservation issues throughout the continent. Today, both the enterprise for conservation and the enterprise for exploitation of African natural resources and wildlife are complex phenomena, closely related with one another and affected, among others, by the patterns of global trade and the insidious effects of war and conflict. Obviously, among the phenomena that contribute to their on-going evolution and change are the processes of independence from colonial powers and the birth of new political regimes, as in the recent peaceful transition to democracy in South Africa. African voices for a new social order, responsive to the needs of people and seeking the democratisation of the state and society, have not been lacking. And yet, the patterns of control over natural resources, be they for conservation or exploitation, find it difficult to disentangle themselves from the legacy of colonialism and the ‘guns and fences’ operations of the not-sodistant past. A first rather common step is to abandon the letter but not the substance of the control through some form of more or less benevolent paternalism. The managers in power agree that the communities eking a living at the borders of protected areas should be ‘consulted’ on decisions, should receive ‘some benefits’ and, if things go far, should even be ‘compensated’ from the on-going damages they suffer because of wildlife incursions in their villages (the paper on Tanzania in this issue of Parks talks in a matter-of-fact vein of 200 people per year being casualties of wildlife throughout the country). Are those examples of real ‘partnerships’ and has the journey ended? Or is real partnership something else? Could it possibly be that real partnerships demand a rethinking of the whole relationship between the state, the national and international elites, the local communities and the natural resources? Could it possibly be that partnership implies no less than a serious process of social communication, dialogue, shared assessment of problems and opportunities, fair negotiation of decisions and actions, and setting in place pluralist management institutions capable of learning through time? The papers in this volume offer a glimpse of the historical ‘disentangling’ of African protected areas from the old protectionist approach into a more ‘open’ and collaborative management style. The readers will judge how far these cases have managed to advance along the road to real partnerships. The cases do not pretend to do justice to the astonishing variety of situations and challenges that exist among the protected areas in the continent. The papers have been submitted by their authors to illustrate their work in progress and to provide all of us with an opportunity to reflect on emergent trends and patterns of conservation practices. In the leadup to the IUCN World Parks Congress in September 2003, being held for the first time in Africa, there will be a spotlight on conservation in Africa. These papers are helping us to advance our comprehension of this complex, changing phenomenon. The term ‘partnership’ is rather loosely applied in all sorts of contexts. Here, we will use it to imply a collective, voluntary process and state of affairs by which a number of partners fairly share among themselves the functions, rights and responsibilities for the conservation of a protected area and/or related territories and resources. This understanding of ‘partnership’ is far from idealised and can merely represent a complex interplay of interests. It is, however, fundamental in spelling out the broad understanding that conservation, today, cannot afford to remain a top-down affair and, on the contrary, needs the concurrence and support of a variety of actors in society. The six case studies in this volume deal with ‘partnership’ arrangements where biodiversity conservation and sustainable use of natural resources are a common thread. Here are some broad reflections we derived: Partners – the case studies illustrate a large variety of partners in conservation – from local communities to district authorities, from state agencies to private entrepreneurs, from NGOs to donors. Issues ultimately being raised are: ‘Who possesses a social legitimacy to participate in managing the protected area and related natural resources? Who has the appropriate characteristics to convene and facilitate such a management partnership?’ In recent decades, the gulf between legality and legitimacy has appeared to many as more a part of the problem than anything else. Increasingly, social actors are seen as justified in claiming a management role on the basis of customary law, direct dependency on the natural resources for subsistence and cultural survival, historical and spiritual relationships with the concerned territory, unique knowledge and ability to manage it, proximity to the resources, loss and damage suffered, and so on. Inclusion, rather than exclusion, becomes the approach of choice, and the triage of serious versus non-serious candidates is taken care of by time, and by the onerous requirements to contribute. Equity, however, remains a powerful concern, as the actors with the most capacity to participate and make themselves heard are not necessarily the ones most entitled or deserving. In addition, the recognition of customary rights and other types of non-legally based claims is still an uphill battle in most African countries, with the recent exception of South Africa. Fortunately, external agencies are becoming more capable of fostering and nourishing partnership processes (see, for instance, the article on Takiéta, Niger) and more conscious of the need to nurture equity and sustainability from their onset. Occasions – in many of the case studies collected in this issue of Parks, the immediate occasion to develop a new, partnership-based management system has been an external project, as for EDITORIAL 4 PARKS Vol 13 No 1 CONSERVATION PARTNERSHIPS IN AFRICA 2003 Conkouati, Takiéta, Kibale, Mt Elgon or the Selous Game Reserve. In others, such as KwaZulu- Natal, the occasion has been a new piece of legislation. Most of the projects or legislation, however, were prompted by existing conflicts over natural resources (competition for control or use) and/or a perceived threat, such as poaching or patterns of unsustainable use. Paradoxically, the weakness of state institutions may be a main reason for the scarcity of effective partnership experiences in Africa. Weak institutions tend to ‘grab’ power via centralised laws and are plagued by the lack of transparency and accountability over the allocation and regulation of state-sanctioned extraction rights. In turn, lack of transparency and accountability does not sit well with partnerships, and prefers straight top-down decision-making patterns. Roles – strategic partnerships capitalise on multiplicity and diversity and involve partners in complementary roles and functions. These should not be identified a priori but within the negotiation process, and on the basis of each partner’s entitlements, capacities and comparative advantages. In this context equity does not mean equality, as different entitlements and capacities should result in different management roles and weight in decision-making. Equity requires that a partnership is not dictated from above, but developed through a negotiated, joint decision-making approach. As a matter of fact, equity and fairness demand some degree of power-sharing among all concerned parties and the willingness of all of them to be flexible, mediate conflicts and work towards a consensus position. Seen in this light, the cases of Selous Game Reserve and Tsavo and Amboseli National Parks could be questioned as genuine partnerships, as local communities were offered a predetermined package of privileges, which they have not truly been able to negotiate. It is to be hoped that more openness will come in the future, fostered by the need to follow a concerted, adaptive management approach. Rationale – a lasting partnership provides a continuous, effective rationale for all parties to remain within it. In other words, all partners should make their own assessment that the overall result of the collaboration is beneficial to them and outweighs their costs. In addition, the distribution of benefits among all partners should be fair. The most sustainable partnerships, in this sense, stand on a close and perceptible link between management benefits and costs, rights and responsibilities to the lowest possible level. We cannot judge whether the situations described in the papers in this issue are fair. This is a task for all the involved parties, in full consideration of a variety of issues and conditions, both local and non-local. We can affirm, however, that generally there is still a way to go to make sure that benefits are garnered by those most deserving them, such as those making the most effort or bearing most of the costs of conservation. A balanced relationship between such benefits and costs is a condition for sustainability. It is also a continuous struggle, and a healthy one in the life of any social partnership. Scope and duration – the papers in this issue of Parks illustrate a range of situations, including local communities taking responsibility for their own resources and effectively creating a ‘Community Conserved Area’; authorities grudgingly conferring responsibilities on local actors; local actors struggling to remain on board in decision making; and, as in KwaZulu-Natal, law-codified partnerships where local boards make rightful decisions regarding resource management within state-run protected areas. Some of the partnerships are forged for temporary, sectoral and limited purposes, such as setting in operation a tourism business that will ultimately be handed over to one of the parties. Others deal with the privileges and rules in the peripheral zones of a protected area. Still others, with the management objectives and activities of the protected area itself. From a broad point of view, the cases described all have a logical ‘next step’: a landscape management approach, demanding a close cooperation among actors at various levels, throughout time, on broad regional land use questions. Agreements, institutions and commitments – there exist two typical products of a management partnership. The first are agreements detailing the management purpose and the roles, rights and responsibilities of the parties (as in the case of Mt Elgon and Kibale, in Uganda), often on a contractual basis. The second are pluralist management organisations, including representatives from all major parties, developed to remain in charge of decisions through time (as in the case of Takiéta, in Niger). Partnerships are always unique and, as they need to be tailored to the context, they all imply some sort of social experimentation. Throughout the world, an important distinction is beginning to be made between decision-making bodies acting by voting or by consensus. In the first case, the critical factor is the number of voting members assigned to given parties. In the second, the procedures can be much more sophisticated and embed incentives towards equitable and sustainable decisions. In all cases, newly established partnerships are likely to be vulnerable and, as demonstrated in the case of Conkouati (Congo), they critically depend on a political commitment to resolve issues and on a continuity of support until the agreements and institutions mature, and take on a life on their own. Learning by doing – management partnerships are processes requiring on-going review and improvement, rather than the strict application of a set of established rules. Their most important result is their own capacity of responding to varying needs in an effective and flexible way. For the Local Management Structure of the Takiéta forest in Niger, for instance, the proof of success resides in being able to say no to certain donors, as well as to resolve internal conflicts and take valuable decisions. As for the management agreements in Kibale and Mt Elgon, a good amount of flexibility appears to have been built into the agreements themselves. A time dedicated to facilitating the transition to a new modus operandi, putting to test the agreement and ‘learning by doing’ generally leads towards a better recognition of the needs and opportunities in each specific context. An adaptive learning approach, based on careful monitoring and evaluation against the rationale and objectives of the partnership itself, is a crucial requirement. The case studies in this volume are limited in scope and representation of conservation partnerships across Africa. Other initiatives that move beyond the protected area level to operate across a whole biome, such as the Cape Floristic Region, demand an extraordinary collaboration among national and provincial agencies across all sectors, statutory bodies, NGOs, international organisations, districts and municipalities, local communities and community-based organisations, as well as the private sector. Regional and transboundary conservation programmes, such as the Park W shared among Burkina Faso, Niger and Bénin introduce yet further levels of complexity. These programmes are the way of the future and it will be wise to build on experiences such as the ones reported in this volume, examining carefully the rationale, processes and outcomes of these crucial experiments in conservation ‘partnerships’.

Grazia Borrini-Feyerabend is Chair of the Collaborative Management Working Group of CEESP, the IUCN Commission on Environmental, Economic and Social Policy, and Co-Chair of the joint Theme on Indigenous and Local Communities, Equity and Protected Areas of CEESP and WCPA. Email: gbf@cenesta.org

Trevor Sandwith is Co-Chair of the Transboundary Protected Areas Task Force of WCPA, the IUCN World Commission on Protected Areas, and Coordinator of the South African bioregional conservation programme Cape Action for People and the Environment (CAPE). Email: trevor@capeaction.org.za. The guest editors of this issue of Parks gratefully acknowledge the assistance of Margaret Sandwith, Helen de Pinho and Virginia Tschopp and the support of the CEESP and WCPA Commissions. Grazia Borrini-Feyerabend would like to acknowledge the insights of a recent paper on pre-colonial and colonial conservation practices in Southern Africa by James Murombedzi, http://www.iucn.org/themes/ceesp/Wkg_grp/TILCEPA/community.htm