Ten months ago I sat in on this seminar at Oxford University, trying to grasp the concept of ‘strategic narrative’ and how it fit into the post-colonial critique of power espoused in my Media, Communications, and Development course at the London School of Economics. (Are you still there?) It became the inspiration for my Masters dissertation, which focuses on the role of strategic narratives in shaping the personal narratives about Somalia’s political change among Somalis living in London. While it sounds esoteric and niche at first, the topic took me down winding routes of literary analysis (narratives = stories) and the weight of personal experience in shaping our perspectives about life’s large and small events. I hope to implement my findings in my work with Albany as we navigate the unkempt international information ecology.
Here’s a taste of ‘In the Valley of Success: An analysis of strategic and personal narratives among Somali diaspora in London.’
Chimamanda Adichie speaks poignantly about the “single story of Africa, the single story of catastrophe” (2009). Musing on western literary depictions of Africa over the centuries, Adichie realises she would have assumed the continent was consumed by poverty, war and hopelessness had she not witnessed a vibrant heritage growing up in Nigeria. Within the art of storytelling lies the “reality of the communicability of experience, a universal accountability of meaning” (Zamponi 1998, 416) achieved through a narrative that strings together discrete parts into a logical whole, with a clear beginning, middle and end (Stryker 1996, 305). Narrative’s crucial presence in literature and humanities has rolled over to sociology and communications studies (Stryker 1996, Barry and Elmes 1997) and is currently surfacing in international relations (Miskimmon 2012, Antoniades 2010). Adichie says a single story can usurp the truth when it does not consider other perspectives, a harrowing revelation when considering the role of narratives in global politics.
Somalia, in the Horn of Africa, is a setting of rich oral tradition, poetic genius and nomadic culture. But this heritage is unknown in international media, where images and narratives of famine, conflict and piracy dominate coverage of Somalia (Harper 2012, 2). Hardship has been a reality for millions of Somalis, many of whom have fled the Horn for foreign, stable lands, settled comfortably and started businesses around the world (Harper 2012). The tension between struggling to adjust in new countries and the responsibility to contribute financially and socially to the homeland has produced scholarly research about the Somali diaspora, thus contributing to the overall narrative of a diverse people (Carlson 2010, Gagliardone and Stremlau 2011, Kleist 2007, Kleist 2008a, Kleist 2008b, Bigelow 2010).
At the time of writing, Somalia is preparing to hold democratic elections for the first time in 20 years, a process overseen by a transitional governing body supported by the African Union and United Nations (UN). As prospects of becoming a fully functioning state grow closer, the Somali Transitional Federal Government (TFG) has become an actor in the international arena, meaning it has the ability to make decisions and so holds power over the future of the Somali nation-state and its citizens. It also has the power to shape the narrative about Somalia through the international media and its own public relations mechanism. Thus, the Somali TFG elicits a strategic narrative that intends to reach politicians, Somalis, potential investors and detractors worldwide, all of whom are actors that influence daily activities in Somalia.
An undated article by Michael Weinstein for the Center for Strategic and International Studies in Washington, D.C. gives a comprehensive critique of the TFG narrative supported by the UN and AU. Weinstein says the narrative of “baseless hope” that antagonizes “radical Islamists” as “terrorists” and “spoilers” to the peace process is too simple, ignores the extreme complexities of Somali politics and will not result in lasting stability in the country (CSIS). Not many scholars in the West are discussing, let alone critiquing, the TFG’s strategic narrative, and Weinstein’s analysis challenges the entire process into which international donors have flushed time, resources and energy.
Instead of prying deep into political circles, my research aims to understand the reception of and response to this strategic narrative among the Somali diaspora communities in London, United Kingdom. I ask to what extent do different Somalis living in London critique the current strategic narrative about the political process in Somalia, and how can individual counter-narratives be strategic, if at all?
The methodology used was to interview ten Somali individuals living in London, five men and five women, between the ages of 18 and mid-40s. I conducted a narrative analysis on each interview transcript to identify the personal narrative of each participant and to compare it to the overarching strategic narrative which I identified in an earlier paper as:
Cultural obstinacy and corruption have led to the problems we face today. The TFG have made significant strides in security and stabilization with the help of AMISOM. Only by including traditional practices and leaders into the political process can Somalia move out of violence and into stability, which is obtained through law and order. The central government must exist, but it will resist becoming an elite system run by few. (Moran 2012, 16)
In my study, the narrators put themselves on the periphery of the action, as observers, not as main characters in the plot about Somalia, unless s/he was already involved in the process. If they were deliberately working to influence the future of Somalia, they believed their narrative was strong enough to challenge the strategic narrative to achieve accountability and better governance, but they consistently called for unity.
When asking if personal narratives are oppressed or silenced in the name of the strategic narrative, we arrive at the “battle of the narratives,” where it is assumed the more powerful actor will promote and maintain his narrative (Ministry of Defence 2011). This study shows that on an individual level, details of the TFG strategic narrative (i.e. success resulting from TFG and AU efforts) are not trusted but the overall sense of hope and progress has convinced some, though it is unclear whether narrators obtained this view from a single source such as media or discussion with others. The complex web of Somali communication, based on personal networks but enhanced by myriad international and local media sources, doesn’t quite allow for a critique of Castell’s theory of network power (2009) because the networks may be horizontal but political power is still perceived to sit at the top. Even if members of the diaspora have strong opinions and ideas, access to decision-makers is crucial, and even then, as one interviewee explained, getting them to take action based on civilian demand is slow-moving if it moves at all.
I interrogated the reception of strategic narrative among citizens instead of at the global level where international powers such as the US and UK or even Turkey interact with requests from the Somali TFG. If the TFG narrative was strong enough to replicate the domination of mass culture over the working class (Gottdiener 1985) then there would be have been more approval of the TFG among the narrators. The result among the diaspora narrators are many individual narratives, some conflicting each other and mostly built on personal experience and perception of reality on the ground in Somalia, not permitting strategic value unless the individuals have unique access to power and strong alliances.
If any of this sounds interesting to you or you’d like to kick around the concept of strategic narratives, get in touch at marissa@albanyassociates.com.
Marissa Moran, Albany Associates