The EconomistSeptember 21st 2019 Middle East & Africa 551I
n july2016 Riek Machar, a rebel leader
who was then first vice-president of the
world’s newest country, fled South Sudan
on foot. Fighting had broken out in the cap-
ital, Juba, between his forces and those of
the president, Salva Kiir. Under fire from
helicopter gunships, some 2,000 of his sol-
diers and their families walked more than
100 miles to Garamba National Park in the
neighbouring Democratic Republic of Con-
go. By the time the unevacuated the rebels
from the park, some were so starved that
they weighed less than 45 kilograms.
On September 9th Mr Machar returned
to Juba for talks with Mr Kiir—the first time
he had been in the country since his es-
cape. South Sudan’s civil war, which caused
a famine and encouraged more than 2m
people to flee, is winding down. Humani-
tarian aid, which had been all but blocked
by fighting, is reaching most parts of the
country. Could one of Africa’s bloodiest
wars be coming to an end at last? Maybe.
But do not bet on it just yet.
South Sudan’s conflict began in Decem-
ber 2013, just two years after independence
from Sudan. It started with a dispute be-
tween Mr Machar and Mr Kiir, both veter-
ans of the war with Khartoum, but quickly
deteriorated into ethnic bloodletting. A
first attempt at a peace deal, brokered in
2015 by Sudan with Western encourage-
ment, led Mr Machar to return to Juba with
his soldiers, who set up in a cantonment on
the edge of the city. That deal held only un-
til the following July. Mr Machar’s flight in
2016 helped to spread the war, which had
previously been mostly confined to the
swampy north where he and Mr Kiir come
from, to the Equatoria region, in the south
of the country. Fighting still continues
there despite the ceasefire elsewhere.
Diplomats hope that the new agree-
ment will hold up better. The idea is that by
November a government will be formed,
with Mr Machar back at his post. It could
then begin to organise South Sudan’s first
elections as an independent state. Those
were supposed to take place in 2015, but
have been put off every year, and are now
scheduled for 2021. Mr Machar thinks that
he may be able to win an election.
Many things could go wrong, however.
Alan Boswell of International Crisis Group,
a watchdog, wonders about Mr Machar’s
security in Juba: “How does a vice-presi-
dent join a government when he is afraid of
its army?” Under the proposals, a new jointvipbodyguardwillbe formed that includes
some soldiers from Mr Machar’s forces
(who are mostly Nuer, Mr Machar’s ethnic
group) and some from the government’s
(who are mainly Dinka, Mr Kiir’s). Other re-
bel forces will be folded into a new, unified
national army.
That looks worryingly like the faileddeal of 2015, says Mr Boswell. With the two
forces thrown together, a small argument
could quickly escalate. And Yasmin Sooka,
the head of the uncommission on human
rights in South Sudan, warned on Septem-
ber 16th that children were already being
forced to join armed groups of various
sorts. The warlords are expanding their
forces partly to prevent their enemies dom-
inating the new national army and partly
because a deal could lead to salaries being
paid. Girls are being kidnapped to serve
soldiers as cooks and sex slaves.
If there is any hope, it comes from bleak
economic reality. South Sudan’s conflict
has been driven largely by money. Oil
makes up 99% of the country’s exports and
provides a sizeable pot to fight over. On
September 18th the Sentry, an investigative
group founded by George Clooney, an ac-
tor, and John Prendergast, a human-rights
lobbyist, published a report documenting
the many ways in which South Sudanese
politicians have stolen cash and diverted it
to weapons and themselves. But oil output
is down, and the government has already
borrowed heavily against future revenues.
Perhaps it is time for the warlords to give
peace a chance. 7Africa’s bloodiest war has cooled. But
even peace can be dangerousWar in South SudanAu revoir to arms
Ready for peace?L
ike mostMalawians, Wema Kaloti lives
off the land. She grows maize on her
family plot in Kamwendo, a village in the
south of the country. But farming is getting
harder as rainfall grows erratic. “Some-
times a lot, sometimes a little,” she says,
glancing at the sky. Yields have dwindled. A
hectare that once produced 20 sacks of
maize now brings in seven. “There is not
enough to sustain ourselves.”
Malawi is one of the poorest countries
in the world. gdpper capita is lower in just
five others. Fully 71% of Malawians earn
less than the international poverty level of
$1.90 per day. Most of the labour force
works in agriculture. Improving Malawi-
ans’ lot, therefore, depends on making
farming more productive or developing
better ways of making a living. Both tasks
are made more difficult by climate change.
Malawi is especially vulnerable to ris-
ing temperatures and erratic rainfall. Most
farmers in the country are smallholders.
Four in every five grow maize. Almost all of
them rely on a single rainy season. If it isdisrupted, their livelihoods are at risk.
And disruption is on the way. Research
summarised by Future Climate for Africa
(fca), a research group, points to two
trends. The first is rising temperatures. By
2040 there may be more than 100 days a
year when the mercury rises above 30°C, a
threshold at which maize suffers, com-
pared with about ten days now. The secondKAMWENDO
How climate change makes it harder to reduce poverty in one of the world’s
poorest statesMalawiWhen it rains
Carbon lightSources:WorldBank;GlobalCarbonProjectMalawi, 1990=100501001502002503001990 95 2000 05 10 15 18GDPCO2 emissions0.74 CO2 emissions, megatonnes 1.37