Subomis Ade-Alamu
Political Social Sciences
Michaelmas Term, 2024
Cambridge Journal of Political Affairs, 5(2), pp. 111-130

https://doi.org/10.5281/zenodo.14427690

Introduction

Long-standing internal political frustration with the neo-patrimonial style of government drove the eruption of war in the former British colonial state Sierra Leone on March 23, 1991. The state’s poor resource management and economic instability led to widespread poverty (Graff et al., 2006). Coupled with troubles fomenting in the neighbouring state Liberia, the Revolutionary United Front (RUF), led by former military general Foday Sankoh, was formed in opposition to the incumbent government with hopes to cleanse the state of ‘crooked politicians’ and ‘autocratic rule’ (Revolutionary United Front, 1995). Their invasion triggered the start of a civil war, which spanned over eleven years, killing 50,000 people and displacing a further 2 million (Solomon and Ginifer, 2008, p. 5). Forces involved in the civil war included the Civilian Defence Forces (CDF), the Armed Forces Revolutionary Council (ARFC), the Republic of Sierra Leone Armed Forces (SLAF) and, in the latter stages, the Economic Community of West African States Monitoring Group (ECOMOG) forces.

Much Western media attention on the violence in Sierra Leone focused on the optics of child soldiers waving firearms, furthering the depiction of the African continent as rampant with ‘incorrigible savagery’ (Jackson, 2004). The phenomenon was especially prevalent in Sierra Leone, where around eighty per cent of rebel soldiers, known as ‘sobels’, were children aged 7-14, of which thirty per cent were girls (Boothby and Knudsen, 2000, p. 6; Mazurana et al., 2002). Following the civil war, appraisals deemed the implemented programme in Sierra Leone ‘the best practice example throughout the world of a successful disarmament, demobilisation, and reintegration [DDR] programme’ (United Nations Mission in Sierra Leone, 2005). However, this article works to expand on and develop how the recorded absence of girl soldier participants suggests otherwise. In total, only 529 girls of the total 6,900 children were registered as DDR programme participants, which gravely under-represents the overall estimate of 8,600 to 11,400 eligible girls. (USAID, 2005, p. 11; Women’s Commission for Refugee Women and Children, 1999, cited in Denov and Maclure 2006, p. 75;).

Inspired by this disparity in number, this work aims to navigate this deficit through an alternative line of questioning: ‘Can decolonial feminist theory help tackle the issue of reintegration for girl soldiers in Sierra Leone?’ I have adopted this critical lens to uncover implicit assumptions that hampered the success of the later reintegration stage of the post-conflict Disarmament, Demobilisation, and Reintegration (DDR) programme for girl soldiers. The thesis of this article argues that Western feminism’s characterisation of ‘third world women’ influenced the degree of focus given to Sierra Leonean girl soldiers in post-conflict policymaking. An interrogation into the foundational models of power and the impact of colonialism informs this assertion.

To begin, I provide an understanding of what girl soldiers and post-conflict policies have been in Sierra Leone. I take a unique approach that contrasts approaches seen in the literature surrounding girl soldiers in Sierra Leone. Following this, a literature review outlines the existing discourse surrounding girl soldiers’ recruitment, involvement in the war, structural barriers, and gendered impacts on reintegration. This rounded definition of ‘girl soldier’, which includes non-combatant roles, informs and develops the outline of provided post-conflict reintegration policies (PCPs). Then, I explain the decision to marry a decolonial feminist conceptualisation outlined by Chandra Talpade Mohanty in Under Western Eyes to the six questions proposed by Carol Bacchi’s post-structural policy analysis and conceptual approach: ‘What’s the problem represented to be?’ (WPR) (Mohanty, 1984; Bacchi, 2009).

Chapter One examines structural barriers using official recommendations released by international organisations to answer the first question posed by the WPR approach, which identifies the ‘problem’ (Bacchi, 2009). To identify the purported ‘problem’, an in-depth analysis of non-governmental organisations’ texts, like those of the United Nations, surrounding Sierra Leone and girl soldiers shall be provided. A brief incorporation of Mohanty’s analysis guides an evaluation of the shortcomings of the recommendations. This helps identify the assumption that women are intrinsically victims, which is investigated further in Chapter Two. The depiction of girls as in need of particular forms of help is reflected in the reintegration policy, which broadly stipulates that awareness of sexual violence and abuse will address most problems faced by girl soldiers.

Chapter Two answers questions three and four of the WPR approach by redirecting attention away from policy to the unaddressed silence regarding colonialism’s deep impact on women’s characterisation in Sierra Leone using Mohanty’s work (1984). To evidence this, a history of colonialism and its impact on women’s social roles is provided. Additionally, the tool of homogenisation and its ability to preserve power structures is explained to signal why the term ‘third world women’ and its characterisation are fitting to describe the issues surrounding girl soldiers. The importance of specificity is emphasised in this chapter and later applied in Chapter Three.

Chapter Three aims to identify how the fault of the ‘problem’ identified in Chapter One led to the issue girl soldiers faced through a critical evaluation of provided reports and proposed revisions, chiefly concerning reintegration, that apply the recommendation of specificity proposed in Mohanty’s theoretical framework (1984). This is to answer the final two questions posed by the WPR approach and to reflect on how traditional and culturally specific practices may help policy (Bacchi, 2009). I couple the initiatives, re-sequencing and spontaneous reintegration, to argue that DDR’s programme sequencing systematically ignores the potential for spontaneity and opportunities for improvement. To conclude, I evaluate the concept of reintegration and its wider communal reception to question the broader effectiveness of this process beyond a programmatic critique.

While my work uses the term ‘third world women’, I want to emphasise that girl soldiers are not women. My use of this term highlights its inadequacy as a descriptor from a meta-theoretical perspective.

Defining Girl Soldiers And Post-Conflict Policies In Sierra Leone

Due to the manner of this question, it is important to stipulate the present and ideal form of post-conflict policies (PCPs) utilised in Sierra Leone and identify what distinctively defines girl soldiers.

In much of the extant literature regarding child soldiers, there is an absence of discourse surrounding gender and its influence on combatants and their participation in post-conflict programmes. Although the last decades have seen increasing attention to the particular needs of women and girls, there is a pervading assumption that child soldiering is a ‘masculine phenomenon’ obscuring the presence of girls within fighting forces (MacKay et al., 2002, cited in Denov and Maclure, 2006, p. 73). Acknowledging the unique presence and importance of girl soldiers is important to discern that their realities are not monolithic.

Therefore, any definition provided relates to the broad meaning of ‘girl soldier’ rather than encompassing all lived experiences. The definition of ‘child’ provided as ‘any person less than 18 years of age’ will be used when referring to ‘girl’ (UN Children’s Fund, 2007, p. 7). Likewise, a good basis for ‘girl soldier’ can also be found in the Paris Principles, which classify child soldiers as ‘children associated with armed forces or armed groups’, developing upon the Cape Town Principles in 1997, the first symposium to recognise non-weapon carrying children as combatants (UN Children’s Fund, 2007, p. 4). The word ‘associated’ broadens the scope of recognised roles children undertook. In the case of Sierra Leone, girls were critical actors in their forces as frontline fighters, commandeers, spies, cooks, and medics. Those married to male combatants were known as ‘bush wives’; they were mothers, witnesses, and perpetrators of atrocities and frequently victims of brutal sexual violence (Mazurana and Carlson, 2004; Coulter, 2009, p. 3). Additionally, the term ‘armed groups’ is about armed non-state actors like the RUF and CDF who disproportionately recruited children involved in the eleven-year civil war (Denov, 2010, p. 26). Therefore, the Paris Principles provides a fitting basis for definition; its suitability is furthered as it best encapsulates how children were interwoven into the fabric of war despite not necessarily engaging in direct hostilities as was heavily depicted in the media (Jackson, 2004). However, this article takes special care to add that this definition is limited, as, like most literature, it fails to explicitly acknowledge that the category of ‘child soldier’ is not universal for girls and boys, instead mentioning such as an afterthought and not centrally in its recommendations (UN Children’s Fund, 2007, p. 29).

Due to this article’s focus on the intersections of gender and childhood, a brief discussion on the term ‘girl’ is helpful. Firstly, we should reiterate that girl soldiers’ realities are not undifferentiated, so it is best not to denote ‘girl soldiers’ by way of individual experiences but to view gender as a profound analytical tool that helps delineate differences (Mazurana et al., 2002, pp. 97-123). Recommendations of gender-specific considerations must acknowledge the axes of power that intersect with gender. This manner of thinking awards greater flexibility for reimagining post-conflict policies and their future potential for reintegration. Consequently, this article aligns with a decolonial feminist lens, working to identify and unpick present shortcomings. As for when one becomes a ‘girl soldier’, I align with the understanding that status begins upon entry into militarised life rather than exit, which widens the number and scope of individuals this work discusses and pertains to (Drumbl, 2012, p. 4).

This article classifies any policy enacted by domestic and international actors to return a state and its people to peacetime as post-conflict policies (PCPs), the most identifiable and discussed example being the Disarmament, Demobilisation and Reintegration (DDR) programme. DDR was orchestrated in Sierra Leone by the National Commission for Disarmament, Demobilisation and Reintegration (NCDDR) and the United Nations Mission in Sierra Leone (UNAMSIL) between 1997 and 2002. It was funded by both the UN and donors. Its trust fund was uniquely managed by the World Bank rather than the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP), as in neighbouring Liberia (World Bank, 2002; Human Rights Watch, 2005).

Its operation involved numerous stakeholders and was described as ‘the best practice example throughout the world of a successful disarmament demobilisation reintegration programme’, making the poor management of girl soldiers’ reintegration doubly perplexing (OCHA, 2003). To acutely investigate the elements that best explain this phenomenon, I examine in Chapter Two the undiscussed theoretical intricacies that profoundly affect PCPs, girl soldiers, and reintegration. To best understand post-conflict policies’ capabilities for reintegration, we must look at their purpose.

Firstly, the foremost objective of post-conflict policies is to transition militarised individuals back into civilian life. As a result, most policies design reintegration as the end goal. Incidentally, explaining why this article identified reintegration as important for girl soldiers helped clarify actions taken, frame the sequencing of programmes, and re-emphasise the importance of assessing the efficacy of existing policies.

To assess the qualities of post-conflict policies executed in Sierra Leone and how well they served the need to reintegrate female soldiers, an ideal type inspired by some recommendations proposed in the Paris Principles shall be outlined (UN Children’s Fund, 2007). The most central purpose of PCPs is as guidance for rehabilitative assistance. Programmes and policies should offer numerous services like access to education and vocational training, healthcare, and childcare–the latter is typically present in programmes that actively engage with girl soldiers and acknowledge their gender-specific experiences and their resulting discriminations (UN Children’s Fund, 2007, p. 36). By equipping them with skills which contribute communally, these measures help former girl soldiers avoid exclusion, depression, and the cycle of poverty and exploitation. Thus, it is emphatic that policies that aim to reintegrate subjects should be exceptionally responsive to pathways that engage with culturally aware dialogues and practices, particularly with families and communities that have previously ostracised girl soldiers based on their ‘lost value’ due to their association and involvement with rebel forces (Brett, 2002, pp. 1-6).

The incorporation of such concerns does well to address stigmas as well as encourage inclusion and reconciliation. PCPs addressing girl soldiers’ reintegration require long-term involvement for the best results. This is to ensure a focus on structural inequalities and spotlight the effectiveness of social justice that interacts with existing initiatives. Accordingly, effective PCPs tackle the fundamental causes of conflicts to prevent the recurrence of violence whilst promoting secure and preservable peace. Finally, PCPs should work to meet the wants of female soldiers in their varying capacities, for instance, those who remain in relationships with their ‘husbands’ or who do not wish to reintegrate into their former communities so as to remain invisible (UN Children’s Fund, 2007, p. 36). PCPs must provide secure support for girl soldiers, whatever their circumstances, to achieve reintegration successfully. Moreover, as the Paris Principles note, it is crucial to account for how girl soldiers’ involvement in the conflict has also equipped them with some ‘non-transitional skills’ that have cultivated ‘non-traditional expectation[s]’, which can make reintegration quite challenging and usually non-linear (UN Children’s Fund, 2007, p. 36).

Literature Review

The existing literature on girl soldiers in Sierra Leone is limited in its effort to connect their marginalisation to the gender essentialism that policymakers and camp officials often unconsciously assume. This perspective casts girls’ presence in rebel forces primarily as victims of male violence rather than active participants in conflict, leading to their marginalisation in post-conflict programmes. The perspective that women are more attuned to ‘peace-making’ furthers the myth that militant forces like the CDF were exclusively male units (Smith and Skjelsbæk, 2001, p. 45; Jackson, 2004). The following literature review indicates how this underlying and mostly unquestioned rhetoric requires an examination, especially in the postcolonial context of Sierra Leone. Through this article’s critical lens, the importance of re-assessing post-conflict policy shall be emphasised.

RECRUITMENT AND INVOLVEMENT OF GIRL SOLDIERS

The literature on girl soldiers in Sierra Leone focuses predominantly on their recruitment and their roles within non-state armed groups (NSAGs). Interviews conducted by Mazruna and Carlson cited abduction as the most common form of recruitment, and fifty per cent had received weapons training (Mazruna and Carlson, 2004, p. 2). Their accounts also reveal participation in a range of non-combatant roles, such as cooks and messengers (Mazurana and Carlson, 2004, p. 12). These accounts suggest why the term ‘soldier’ needs to be expanded to encapsulate the multi-faceted experience of conscripted girl soldiers and why this article explored the definition earlier. Coulter’s Bush Wives and Girl Soldiers explores the duality of women being recognised as victims of sexual violence and simultaneously constrained by notions of militarised masculinity that fail to see them as combatants (Coulter, 2009, pp. 13-14). There still remains limited development on the use of the dichotomous terms ‘victim’ and ‘perpetrator’ in discourse concerned with girl soldiers. McKay’s comparative work highlights differences between the experience of girl soldiers in Sierra Leone and northern Uganda, revealing how their presence was ignored in both contexts (McKay, 2005, pp. 385-397). This literature highlights the relevance of focused analysis of reintegration efforts, as undertaken in this article, to critically interrogate why girls were still neglected, even in Sierra Leone, which has been heralded as an exemplar of DDR’s best practices.

STRUCTURAL BARRIERS, GENDER DYNAMICS, AND IMPACT ON REINTEGRATION

Scholars of DDR literature have explored why the needs of girl soldiers in Sierra Leone are not adequately met, pointing towards structural programmatic barriers and the foundationally gendered dynamics of these programmes. There is literature that links girl soldiers’ peripheral position during decision-making for peace with the distinguished absence of girls in post-conflict policies and programmes, government consideration, and international development (Gardam and Charlesworth, 2000; Machel, 2001, cited in Denov and Maclure, 2006, p. 74). As more research incorporates gender perspectives into the analysis of DDR, it becomes clear that Western representation of the conflict neglected the high degree of female participation, which contributed to the failure of the DDR programme for girls (Macdonald, 2008, pp. 135-145). Some literature suggests the reason is reintegration agencies’ reluctance to recognise female soldiers due to social stigmas and gender norms. Whilst these studies delve into the effects of the neglect of girl soldiers, their explicit connection to colonially rooted attitudes and its resulting influence on gender biases is wavering. This article aims to concretely fill this gap through an exploration of DDR outcomes by applying a decolonial feminist theoretical framework.

CRITIQUE OF DDR PROGRAMME IMPLEMENTATION IN SIERRA LEONE

The DDR programme in Sierra Leone was executed in four years in three phases–Phase I began in February 1998, Phase II followed in October 1999, and Phase III concluded with a general election in January 2002 (Solomon and Ginifer, 2008, p. 7). The most prevalent critique took aim at the barriers to entry in disarmament, specifically the requirement to possess a weapon for admission. Many girls had their weapons reassigned by commanders to male combatants post-conflict, as weapon submission offered a monetary reward (Mackenzie, 2012, p. 89). Additionally, entry into disarmament required the possession of a weapon for those over the age of 18. For girl soldiers who served non-combatant roles, this condition would have led to their immediate admission, but in actuality, there were disparities between IOs and NGOs in practice. In fact, despite official practice changes in Phase III, many girls still reported their need to present and reassemble firearms for admission (Mazurana and Carlson, 2004, p. 19). The inability to disarm prevented girls’ access to subsequent demobilisation programmes and reintegration initiatives, further exacerbating their social and economic marginalisation. This article reveals a disconnect between policy intent and its implementation, emphasising how gendered assumptions and a lack of accountability contribute to the exclusion of girl soldiers, even when the issue is identified.

Theoretical Framework And Method

The conceptual framework adopted in this article is Carol Bacchi’s ‘What’s the problem represented to be?’ (WPR) approach, which compliments the feminist decolonial theoretical framework outlined in Mohanty’s Under Western Eyes (Mohanty, 1984; Bacchi, 2009). This framework is particularly effective for analysing how post-conflict policies, such as those related to the reintegration of girl soldiers in Sierra Leone, construct and represent ‘problems’. Bacchi’s WPR method allows for an evaluation of a breadth of documents, including parliamentary policies, public address, programs, proposals, and policy, allowing this article to grasp the complexities of reintegration for girl soldiers in Sierra Leone and how this shapes broader discourse (Bacchi, 2009, p. 55).

The method of analysis chosen aligns well with the article’s focus on qualitative assessment. Policy analysis, given its lack of a universally established definition, presents an opportunity to accommodate diverse interpretations delivered in qualitative analysis. For this study, I narrowed the analysis to a case study of documents specifically addressing girl soldiers, reintegration, and the DDR program in Sierra Leone. Documents were selected on the basis of their impact on the practice of DDR and their ability to translate the outcome of reintegration for girl soldiers. Additionally, I qualified materials based on their ability to influence the outcome and practice of DDR, the manner of reintegration, and its reception. Despite their variation, all documents provide insight into a broader understanding of how reintegration and girl soldiers are characterised within post-conflict policymaking, making their analysis integral to this article.

A total of ten documents from 1998 to 2010 were analysed, including grey literature surrounding DDR, children, and reintegration in Sierra Leone. These were comprised of four documents from the UN digital archives and six from DDR-related programmes run by other international organisations. The analysis and framework used help to locate the assumptions contributing to the perceived ‘problem’ within DDR policy and proposed solutions (Bacchi, 2009, p. 55). Critical analysis is valuable when conducting qualitative research as it challenges the depiction of the subject of analysis by examining the meanings and context of documents. This approach, combined with decolonial feminist theory, produces an analytical method that scrutinises the power dynamics embedded in policy, particularly those established by dominant actors who are typically white, male, and Western-educated. Historically, these dominant perspectives have marginalised considerations of particularities like race, class, and gender under the guise of objectivity. Therefore, a decolonial lens is incorporated as it forefronts the importance of cultural particularities and unpicks present analyses and programs that have positioned themselves as ‘objective’ yet failed to see how interrelated these issues are to the othering of non-Western subjects (Said, 1978). Hence, it is paramount to unpick existing power structures to show how they operate to retain their social dominance. This approach is rarely employed in policy analysis, but it has the capacity to challenge policy discourses and amplify the voices of those marginalised. The central aim and purpose of this framework is to ‘question the way policy ‘problems’ are often made to appear to be discrete and self-evident’ (Bacchi, 2009, p. 55).

Central to decolonial feminist theory is the active critique and deconstruction of Western feminism’s tendency to generalise the experiences of all women. The case of girl soldiers illustrates this matter, as this article highlights how Western frameworks fail to account for the diverse realities of women in conflict zones. People have universalised pluralities in the identity and circumstances of various women to create the category of ‘women’.

Why ‘Decolonial’ Rather Than ‘Postcolonial’?

Decolonial feminism is defined, amongst many other things, as ‘rethinking logics of exploitation, oppression, and the institutions that engender them’ (UCL, 2022). I decidedly aligned with a decolonial critique as I believe it to be an active theory that moves beyond the focus of postcolonial theory. Decolonial theory offers a distinctive approach to postcolonial theory, which is a ‘project belonging to scholarly transformation within the academy’ in contrast to decolonialisation’s aim to remain active and political (Mignolo, 2007, p. 452). Conversely, postcolonialism’s ‘belonging …to the academy’ suggests that the project has implicitly remained aligned with Western colonial political thought. This point of criticism is highlighted when critiquing the essentialist language of early anti-colonial African thought, like Négritude in Francophone African diaspora (Lorenzini, 2016; Diagne et al., 2016). This article’s line of reasoning aligned with Mohanty’s work as I believed it qualified as a form of activism due to its advocacy on behalf of ‘third world women’ and its active opposition to her contemporaries (Mohanty, 1984). Under Western Eyes helped shift focus in postcolonialism beyond simple reflections on race towards layered interrogations of gender and directed criticism towards a new actor–other feminists. It was a refreshing body of work that sat outside ‘the academy’ as it critiqued the academy’s way of conceptualising women (Mignolo, 2007, p. 452).

Mohanty’s work is not the definitive work on decolonial feminism, as is evidenced by the works of Vergès and Lugones (2019;2010). However, it is certainly a body of work that prefaced the formal dawn of decolonialisation and the ‘coloniality of gender’ and is deserving of discussion in decolonial theory (Espinosa-Miñoso et al., 2022). Therefore, I qualify it as decolonial, for it puts forward a project of transformation that is still underway forty years later and did not simply comment on but dissected the foundations of Western feminism to locate its disorders. Additionally, I wish to draw attention to the linguistic importance of the prefixes ‘de’ and ‘post’: the former means to ‘do the opposite of’, ‘reverse of” and ‘remove from’ whilst the latter means ‘after’ and ‘behind’ (Merriam Webster, 2024). The temporality of ‘post’ means it is continually understood in relation to colonialism, and its timelines are seemingly dictated by this, whilst ‘decolonial’ can be understood as an active divorce from colonialism and, therefore, more forceful in practice. This article works to locate a theoretical standpoint that advances decolonialism’s project of departure and addresses the plague of generalisation–Mohanty proved most suitable. Equally, Bacchi’s framework effectively translated Mohanty’s theory into practice, particularly due to its focus on identifying and analysing the ‘problem’ within policy (1984; 2009). While many frameworks could achieve similar outcomes, Bacchi’s (2009) emphasis on problematisation made it especially suited for this project’s cross-examination. Bacchi (2009, p. xiii) provides six questions that this article analytically answers:

‘1. What’s the “problem” represented to be in a specific policy?

2. What presuppositions or assumptions underlie this representation of the “problem”?

3. How has this representation of the “problem” come about?

4. What is left unproblematic in this problem representation? Where are the silences? Can the “problem” be thought about differently?

5. What effects are produced by this representation of the “problem?”

6. How/where has this representation of the “problem” been produced, disseminated and defended? How could it be questioned, disrupted and replaced?’

In the case of girl soldiers, this conceptual framework is useful to explore where, why, and how they were excluded from reintegration discourse, highlighting its intrinsic relation to the colonial homogenisation of women of the ‘third world’ as ‘a singular monolithic subject’ (Mohanty, 1984, pp. 333-358). Hence, the marriage of Mohanty’s and Bacchi’s understandings presents an imaginative opportunity to interlink the identified ‘problem’ that women have been assumed to be one-dimensional sexual violence victims due to policy proposals and practices (Bacchi, 2009). Ultimately, this article is a body of work that attempts to ‘identify [a] deep-seated conceptual premise,’ and the decolonial project is an awareness of how the circumstances faced by colonised people shape their perspective (Bacchi, 2009, p. 55).

Mohanty’s critique is pivotal here, as she analyses how the ‘material and historical heterogeneities’ of women in the third world have been ‘discursively colonised’ (Mohanty, 1984, pp. 333-358). This is to combat the ethnocentric blindness and poor self-awareness that has permitted Western liberal feminism to dominate and shape the feminist work regarding women in the ‘third world’ (Mohanty, 1984, pp. 333-358).

First, a brief explanation of the term ‘third world women’, which is continually used by Mohanty (1984) and adopted in this analysis, is vital. For context, at the time of publication, ‘third world’ countries, like Sierra Leone, were defined as neutral states during the Cold War but were often characterised by their unstable socio-economic conditions and former status as colonies which contrast with ‘first world’ countries. Although the term has largely been retired in contemporary political discourse and literature, it is used here, with caution, to critique how Western policies have homogenised diverse experiences. Therefore, I shall be using the term in inverted commas and shall occasionally re-phrase ‘third world woman’ to ‘women in the third world’.

Chapter One: What Is The ‘Problem’ And How Has This Come About?

This chapter identifies the ‘problem’ presented in policy and investigates the assumptions underlying this identification. To do so, the first two questions proposed in the WPR approach, ‘What’s the problem represented to be?’ and ‘What presuppositions or assumptions underlie this representation of the “problem”?’, are answered in relation to Mohanty’s Under Western Eyes theoretical analysis (Mohanty, 1984; Bacchi, 2009).

1.1 THE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT OF GIRL SOLDIERS AND LOCATING THE PROBLEM

First, I shall address the fact that some UN documents did not ignore the presence of girl soldiers. This analysis engages with this matter first to showcase that whilst the UN did not ignore the presence of girl soldiers, their recognition appears superficial. An analysis of documents shall demonstrate this to illustrate how it shaped the identified ‘problem’ proposed by the policy.

Both the Situation of human rights in Sierra Leone and Security Council 4118th meeting notes explicitly refer to girl combatants as ‘girl soldiers’ or ‘girl children who have been associated with fighting forces’ (United Nations Security Council, 2000; United Nations General Assembly, 2001). This is demonstrative of a degree of awareness of their presence. However, both provide shallow developments regarding these actors’ reintegration experience and best practices for improvement. The report on human rights in Sierra Leone mentioned the reluctance of girls to partake in DDR or return home but did not provide explanations as to why. Instead, their predicament was deemed symptomatic of ‘many gender-based violations …carried out specifically against the girl child’ (United Nations General Assembly, 2001). The generalisation of factors erases the uniquely important struggles girl soldiers face reintegrating and conflates it with ‘gender-based violations’ without outlining what those may be and how they have led to the exclusion of girl soldiers. Policy reveals itself to be shallow in its address of girl soldiers as the matter demands an extended discussion that closely details experiences. The 1200 interviews collated by the UN showcased the organisation’s ability to conduct major investigations, but its findings did not mention girls’ specific circumstances, reiterating their misaligned focus.

A report that forcibly redirects attention onto the broader matter of ‘violence against women’ removes a required sensitivity to particularities required to address the troubled reintegration of most girl soldiers (United Nations General Assembly, 2001). Gender-specific violations are explained as instances of violence against women. I cast critical attention to the use of the term ‘women’ to encompass ‘girls’ as it reductively universalises the separate but equally important experiences of girls and suggests that what pertains to women pertains to girls (United Nations Security Council, 2000; United Nations General Assembly, 2001). Also, I assert that to solve this matter by merely mentioning the presence of girl soldiers does not immediately solve their issues as it is insufficient in addressing their reintegration problems. The strong interest in the violence inflicted on civilian women dwarfs the attention directed to female soldiers’ varying experiences beyond violence, demonstrating how the intersectional identity of girl soldiers remains unattended. The focal ‘problem’ identified by the reports is that there is a lack of gender-specific provisions for gender-specific violations, violations that have been essentialised to be exclusively physical. The broad recommendations for further field research on the identified ‘problem’ by UNAMSIL and fellow international organisations confirm that unexplored areas remain obscured, and the reproduction of this line of reasoning remains (United Nations General Assembly, 2001). This builds a conjecture that generalises and qualifies women on the basis of their victimisation and physicality, continually failing to attend to the existence and experience of girl soldiers sensitively (Mohanty, 1984, pp. 333-358). The chief criticism that they are being entirely ignored is untrue; rather, the intricacies of their experiences are being ignored.

1.2 THEIR REDUCTION TO SEXUAL VIOLENCE VICTIMS AND ‘THE PROBLEM’ OF VICTIM

This section investigates how the underlying assumption of females as victims in war has fostered the ‘problem’ identified in 1.1. Utilising Mohanty’s (1984) theory concerning ‘third world women’, I interrogate the formulation of the term ‘women’.

An analysis of the formation of the category of analysis ‘women’ and their status as victims is required to ground the assertion that the exclusive ‘problem’ identified for women and girls is their experience of sexual violence abuse. The term ‘women’ has been debated and reformulated in much of contemporary feminist discourse, and there have been two prominent schools of argument that have pitted material biology with the discursive construction of women (Oyewunmi, 1997, p. xi). Much of Western liberal feminism has incorrectly combined the two sides into one, putting forward the explanation that material biology informs the discursive socially structured experience of women, making them interrelated (Mohanty, 1984, pp. 333-358). This is a poor assertion of the definition and understanding of ‘women’ because it decidedly generalises women by their biology, which does not account for the social construction of race or class, which usually intersects and accounts for the differing particularities seen. Beyond that, it is a shallow definition that relies on the dismissal of intersectionality as it does not deem the combination of material biology and discursive sociology as accumulative or constituted. Ultimately, failing to note how the universal term ‘women’ without using specific descriptors or signifiers like ‘African’ or, more specifically, ‘Sierra Leonean’ in this article is sociologically essentialist. The term ‘third world’ is too broad and was deftly selected by Mohanty and utilised in this article to demonstrate how vague and immediately disingenuous this descriptor is in collectively terming a people. The ‘third world’ spans continents and ages, making it a heterogeneous category and ‘one must nevertheless insist that the colonised subaltern subject is irretrievably heterogeneous’ (Spivak, 1994, pp. 66-111). This is an example of the same fallacy that has befallen the term ‘women’ and must be dealt with from a decolonial perspective.

This manner of definition is coupled with an additional fallacy: that women, due to their shared and universal identification, have a shared struggle; Mohanty terms this as ‘sisters in struggle’ (1984, pp. 333-358). This attitude is key to the disregard for the involvement of girl soldiers in Sierra Leone. Furthermore, it is paramount that women are understood as an analytical category that is socially formulated rather than materially confirmed (Mohanty, 1984, pp. 333-358). This way of understanding helps see that descriptors of women as ‘powerless, exploited, sexually harassed,’ which underscores all facets of Western liberal feminist discourse, are incorrect (Mohanty, 1984, pp. 333-358). Much of the focused work is then chiefly concerned with gathering many cases on groups of ‘powerless’ women rather than identifying the circumstances of a specific group of ‘powerless’ women.

An in-depth analysis can be found in the Report of the Special Rapporteur on Violence against Women, its Causes and Consequences, which explicitly pertains to women and promises a gender-specific perspective (Coomaraswamy, 2002). Throughout the text, ‘violence’ is insinuated to be synonymous with sexual violence, with little to no explanation as to why. The 733 collated testimonies exclusively detailed physical violence, failing to explore how these girls’ childhoods as individuals who carry arms and inflict pain challenged gendered depictions of the ‘powerless woman’ (Cohn and Jacobson, 2012, p. 105). The assumption that violations against the material biology of women outweigh that of sociological constructs concerning gender led to the absence of observations concerning psychological and social violations. Though studies have found gender factors in how pain is described, an intersection into how children articulate pain remains underdeveloped (Saverda et al., 1982; Ebrahimpour et al., 2018; Puto et al., 2024). Additionally, I contend that the report’s heavy reliance on quantifiable data cannot provide a thorough recount of the complex psychological impacts of war. Furthermore, this article firmly emphasises the importance of qualitative analysis in order to dispute antecedent stances that conveniently support exacting claims surrounding girl soldiers without further question. Despite the report’s apparent awareness of the girls’ duality as ‘victims but also perpetrators’, there is little interrogation into this liminal positionality and how girl soldiers straddle these two descriptors (Coomaraswamy, 2002). By contrast, the report’s attention was intensely focused on health conditions like Rectovaginal fistula (RVF) and concerns surrounding sexually transmitted diseases.

A brief critical analysis of the language used in the report follows to reveal this fallacy further. The term ‘girls affected by armed conflict’ lacks specificity as it can pertain to a plethora of girls–some civilians and other combatants (United Nations General Assembly, 2001). It is necessary to pay special attention to this distinction, as ‘normal women’ were defined as victims of war, while women and girls who were soldiers were seen as ‘perpetrators of violence and destruction… categorised as deviants’ (Mackenzie, 2012, p. 74). In contrast, it would have been advisable to delineate ‘girls involved in armed forces’ or ‘girls associated with armed forces’, which aligns with the definition provided in this work due to its attentiveness to the nuanced nature of girl soldiers’ participation in armed forces. This turn of phrase helps showcase that the ‘problem’ identified under-appreciates the different roles girls play as combatants and instead suggests that violence inflicted against women is not the only issue of importance.

The matter of reintegration is therefore not met with the degree of attention it deserves as the particularity of girl soldiers is not explored; there is reason to argue that if it had been the case, cultural attitudes and the importance of community settings would have enjoyed further examination.

The assumed descriptors of women as ‘subordinated’ and ‘struggling’ obscure the implicit causes of girl soldiers’ predicaments. The in-depth nature of the document highlights how invested a leading international organisation was in reaffirming that women are to be understood, without depth, as violence victims. It contributed to a stagnant discourse in recommendations put forward by the UN Children’s Fund (UNICEF) and the Secretary-General on Children and Armed Conflict address (United Nations, 1999). Even though these recommendations mentioned DDR and girl soldiers, no concrete recommendations were received, and the specific difficulties that girl soldiers face in reintegrating remained unaddressed.

Chapter Two: The Foundations Of Power

This section argues that the portrayal of girl soldiers in Sierra Leone aligns with the stereotypical characterisation of ‘third world women’ due to the enduring effects of colonialism, which has perpetuated the reductive identification of Sierra Leonean women, and by extension, girls, as primarily victims of sexual violence. This segment adopts a theoretical approach, moving away from the policy-centric analysis of Chapter One. This shift is necessary to examine the underlying factors contributing to the challenges identified in DDR programs and policies.

The analysis emphasises how the suppression of local cultures and the marginalisation of indigenous perspectives reinforce the status of these girls as ‘third world women’. It further contends that the reintegration of girl soldiers in Sierra Leone reflects a broader legacy of colonial policies, where structural inequalities continue to perpetuate marginalisation. The failure to acknowledge differences among these groups sustains the existing unequal power dynamics.

This section bridges the gap between theory and policy, challenging the conventional view that decolonial theory lacks practicality. In doing so, it addresses, albeit loosely, the third and fourth questions of the WPR approach (Bacchi, 2009).

2.1 THE POWER OF SPECIFICITY

The historical theory-policy divide has led policymakers to distance themselves from academic research, a stance shaped by colonial history that often used theory to bolster colonial rule (Gani and Marshall, 2022, pp. 5-22). This history reinforced Western hegemony in international relations’ knowledge production, turning policy into a tool of colonial dominance. This article refutes the notion that academic research is ‘too esoteric and abstract to have real-world applications’, advocating for the value of academic discourse in uncovering colonial assumptions within policy frameworks (Gani and Marshall, 2022; Walt, 2005, cited in Gani and Marshall, 2022).

Thus, Mohanty’s critique of Western feminism’s homogenising is particularly relevant, as it reveals the risks of failing to acknowledge cultural specificity (Mohanty, 1984). Cutrufelli’s work on Bemba women attributed changes in marriage practices to Western imperialism and failed to account for their cultural context (Cutrufelli, 1983, cited in Mohanty, 1984, pp. 333-358). The lack of acknowledgement of social practices like the initiation ritual of Bemba women reduced this claim to a conflation, as without an evaluative angle, the line of argument remains underdeveloped. The homogenous understanding of Bemba women highlighted once more how ‘denying the specificities of their daily existence and the differential value attached’ is detrimental to understanding a people (Mohanty, 1984). This article builds on this critique, recognising that the term ‘women’ alone often fails to represent female soldiers.

The analytical structure, identified in Cutrufelli’s work, prefaces women as ‘sexual-political’ objects, which means their subjectivity is not discussed (Mohanty, 1984, pp. 333-358). It does not attend to the power relations that existed pre-colonially and remain post-colonially as it classes colonial rule as the only period of change. The documents I shall analyse demonstrate that the inability to identify indigenous cultural impacts presents vague recommendations that demand re-evaluation. Drawing from Michael Jackson’s Sierra Leone (2004), an in-depth study of the Kuranko people, this article pays close attention to the discussion of different ethnolinguistic tribes in Sierra Leone to avoid this fault.

The British Protectorate was established in 1896, and the subsequent suppression of the 1898 rebellion consolidated stricter colonial rule, which significantly affected women’s social roles. For example, the struggle of Ella Koblo Gulama of the Mende tribe to gain political office in 1953 due to an impasse illustrates shifting attitudes towards women’s leadership (Macauley, 2022). However, much of the literature during this period focused more on contrasting Sierra Leonean women and girls to convey a distinct contrast with African women rather than show an understanding of their livelihoods (Macauley, 2022). The term ‘third world women’ proves to be insufficient as it oversimplifies the social and cultural complexities which are not entirely determined by their biology or relation to men.

The roles of women and girls in Sierra Leone have evolved under the influence of both pre-colonial and colonial dynamics. Historical studies into women were sparse and often focused on tribes like the Temne, Mende, and Krio based on their proximity to British colonial power (Macauley, 2022). The latter tribe is quite small and received much-recorded attention due to British colonial rule, while the other two were larger in population and had an indirect form of rule that retained chieftains (Ero, 2012, p. 234). More recently, the ethnographic records of women challenge the ‘normative conception of subservient African women’ like Mende female chief Nyarroh of Bandasuma, whose recorded presence questions the characterisation of ‘third world women’ as struggling victims (Hoffer, 1972, pp. 151-164; Day, 2007, p. 422; Macauley, 2022). In societies like Temne and Mende, gendered differences were acknowledged and viewed as ‘flexible and responsive to practical application’, therefore classing women as the ‘weaker sex’ due to their material biology was not practised (Day, 2007, p. 422; Saidi, 2020, cited in Macauley, 2022).

Critiquing the term ‘third world women’ is crucial, as it serves to homogenise the diverse experiences of women and girls into one body whilst also giving way to a reasoning that employs oppression as its source of unity. This has hindered the development of tailored reintegration strategies. Therefore, this article adopts a position that prioritises cultural specificity, aiming to decolonise academic analysis and policy recommendations.

2.2 THE POWER OF HOMOGENEITY

‘…one enables and sustains the other.’

– Mohanty, Under Western Eyes (1984, pp. 352)

This section aims to provide a foundational understanding of how power relations can help explain the connection between colonialism and ‘third world women’ (Mohanty, 1984). Mohanty (1984) argues that the categorisation of women and men has been analytically informed by a heavy emphasis on biological differences. At its crux, this line of reasoning is inspired by Foucault’s ‘juridico-discursive’ model of power and outlines four features: negative relation, insistence on the rule, the cycle of prohibition, and the logic of censorship and uniformity (Foucault, 1980, pp. 134-45). Negative relation is of importance as it defines what power opposes or excludes; the category of ‘women’ follows a framework that does not accommodate social differences. To maintain uniformity, an insistence on rule is promoted, and this creates a Manichean view of the powerful and powerless. Furthermore, resistance to power, which in this worldview is concentrated in a single source, is understood exclusively and feeds into a cycle that divides the powerful and powerless (Foucault, 1980). This is shown when the singular criterion for women is their status as a homogenous oppressed group under the subjugation of male subjects.

The imagination of change or an end to resistance, according to this power relation, is the ‘simple inversion’ of the present order; however, such happening would not eradicate all the troubles that women had previously faced (Mohanty, 1984, pp. 333-358). As a result, resistance is seen to be the end product rather than a condition or feature of power, overshadowing the problems associated with homogenisation. Mohanty suggests a key point that this article agrees with that the plight of liberal Western feminism helps hide its exploitative actions and destructive assumptions, which presents a key reminder as to why intersectionality is crucial (1984, pp. 333-358). Oppression is considered integral to formulating the analytical category of women, thus sustaining it as a central feature. However, if one critically analyses the term and understanding of ‘third world women’, the discourse surrounding power transforms.

The conversation about women as an oppressed group is heavily concentrated in liberal feminist discourse on ‘third world women’ because it works to differentiate Western feminism from ‘third world women’ by creating a contrast in conditions, which implies that oppression has variance and is not universal in its intensity. Therefore, Western women become the emancipators and the ‘true subjects of counter-history while ‘third world women’ are portrayed as objects of an oppressive system (Mohanty, 1984, pp. 333-358). Because of this, it is a ‘colonialist’ move as it works to colonise and appropriate any pluralities that might be discovered amongst women in the ‘third world’ to support their unsupported claim of homogeneity and streamline any further efforts to appropriately forward their situation —ultimately, robbing ‘third world women’ of their agency.

There is a tendency to exceptionalise ‘third world women’ as external to the structures that shape power relations, justifying the poor handling of their struggles. Despite the formal end of colonial rule, a sense of defeatism continues to cloud Western portrayals of ‘third world women’. This perspective maintains Western women as central figures, often ignoring and dismissing the differences that might challenge the notion of ‘women’ as a unified category of analysis. Separate power structures for ‘third world women’ are often seen as underdeveloped and peripheral to the feminist movement (Mohanty, 1984, p. 351). However, this view is illusory. ‘Third world women’ can offer critical insights, emphasising that a socio-economic perspective is essential for an intersectional approach to feminism–one that genuinely considers the diverse experiences of working-class girls of colour, such as girl soldiers in Sierra Leone.

The intersection of power dynamics and the concept of ‘The Other’ is pivotal to understanding global power relations. ‘The Other,’ as described by E.W Said, encapsulates the colonised and all that exists outside the ‘Western Self’ (1978, pp. 143-144). This category often includes those who are ‘female, Black and non-European’, such as girl soldiers in Sierra Leone (Childs and Fowler, 2006, p. 165). If one examines the binary logic that shapes the power structure embraced by liberal Western feminists, one uncovers the existence of a periphery defined and sustained by the centre. By intertwining the concept of ‘The Other’ with this binary, one can argue that ‘third world women’ perform a crucial role in shaping the identity of Western women, largely through narrow assumptions and self-representations. Feminist discourse reveals the identity of the ‘first world’ is constructed through the homogenisation of the ‘third world’, serving as a counterpoint that defines the West. This dynamic is integral to maintaining a historical silence, making a dissenting decolonial perspective that offers challenges and alternative viewpoints vital. The experience of reintegration among girl soldiers in Sierra Leone reveals the significance of ‘The Other’ in exposing these power structures.

Chapter Three: The Subaltern Experience And The Reimagination Of Reintegration Potentials

This section focuses on re-engaging with the reintegration process through the documented experiences of girl soldiers in Sierra Leone, as captured in reports and interviews. Analysing these reports reveals certain limitations, emphasising the value of incorporating them with direct accounts from interviews. This approach directs attention to how decolonial theory, when applied to policy, may manifest into more effective programming by deconstructing what qualifies as an influence in policy making and centring the direct voices of girl soldiers. This interrogation informs suggestions for PCPs, particularly DDR, to champion cultural specificity, as explained throughout this article by recognising the ‘problem’ of homogenising girl soldiers to be exclusively sexual violence victims. I propose that we undertake gender-specific strategies to further facilitate community-led and oriented reintegration. Additionally, as I conclude, the sequencing of DDR programming systematically ignores the potential spontaneity of reintegration. I delve into how re-sequencing DDR by incorporating spontaneous reintegration could improve policies’ efficacy. Finally, the chapter devotes some attention to the broader character of reintegration and its relation to the communities that girl soldiers return to. Consequently, this chapter answers questions five and six posited in the WPR approach regarding the effects and replacement of the ‘problem’ (Bacchi, 2009).

3.1 REINTEGRATION FINDINGS AND LIMITATIONS

This section reviews reports from international and non-governmental organisations to locate shortcomings and recommend changes sensitive to the specific needs of reintegration.

Many organisational actors participated in the reintegration process of Sierra Leonean ex-combatants, including smaller actors like the Movement for Assistance and Promotion of Rural Communities (MAPCO) and Sierra Leone Opportunities Industrialisation Centre (SLOIC) alongside the National Commission on Demobilisation, Reinsertion and Reintegration (NCDRR), Reintegration of Ex-combatants (RECOM) and the Ministry of Development and Economic Planning (OECD, 2010, p. 3). Their collective aim was for ex-combatants to return to ‘peaceful co-existence with the population of the respective settlement areas’ (OECD, 2010, p. 3). However, reports noted that just eight per cent of all recorded subjects were enrolled despite estimates suggesting 3,000 were eligible (UNICEF, 2005, p. 16). Most literature alludes to the difficulty girl soldiers faced at the disarmament stage due to the narrowly defined criteria that excluded girl combatants who carried out non-combative roles, like ‘bush wives’ and cooks (Mazurana and Cole, 2013, cited in Cohn, 2013, p. 211). Furthermore, the stigma related to enrolled ex-combatants deterred girls from participating, limiting the depth of engagement enrolled girls experienced due to their desire for secrecy (UNICEF, 2005, p. 16).

The OECD’s report Cooperation Project: Reintegration of Ex-Combatants in Sierra Leone provides a key evaluation of reintegration that ultimately signals the need to tailor programming to be gender-specific (OECD, 2010, pp. 1-11). While some success was noted, like the gradual awareness of community-based approaches and the understanding that reintegration is a ‘multidisciplinary process’, structural shortcomings hampered effectiveness (OECD, 2010). A lack of trained facilitators for vocational programmes hindered participants’ ability to gain the qualifications necessary to work and complete the DDR programme. Likewise, the vagueness of the long-term prospect of programmes hampered the degree of support provided and is symptomatic of a lack of specificity. This element of generality extends to the reflection that few reports offered due to the assumed universal experience surrounding child ex-combatants, which did not accommodate gendered particularities. This paralleled the problematics identified regarding the homogenous characterisation of ‘third world women’ discussed in Chapter Two. Ultimately, programmes were beneficiary-led, meaning that the structural shortcomings identified in this article, like the exclusion of gender-specific accommodations, were being continually reproduced and favoured male adolescents who were already disproportionately represented in the programming.

The UNICEF report, The Disarmament, Demobilisation and Reintegration of Children Associated with The Fighting Forces, looked at the ‘Confronti Centre,’ which provided well-suited skill set training (UNICEF, 2005). The centre’s residency provided childcare for the girls, aiding them in acquiring skills as they did not need to multitask. However, it still lacked a concrete exit strategy that accommodated the intersection of identity and plurality of girl soldiers, like the futures of girls with children. The absence of post-participation prospects failed to accommodate how girls would adapt to their newly acquired roles and remain presently available for their children (UNICEF, 2005). It was through alternative forms of materials like interviews that revealed that programmatic reports failed to evaluate the training facilities’ inadequate options due to ongoing concerns with locals (Mackenzie, 2012, p. 2). Consequently, women were trained as seamstresses, soap makers, and caterers and the vague and unevaluated local knowledge informed initiatives (Mackenzie, 2012, p. 82). Another report revealed that the NCDDR decided the skills girls were awarded but failed to recognise the new skills they had acquired from their experiences as combatants (Mazurana and Cole in Cohn, 2011, p. 211). Greater gender specificity accommodates these new skills and finds a purpose for them to further emphasise their attentiveness and want for the longevity of girls’ reintegration. It is clear that gender-specific provisions have potential and should be continually engaged with to remedy shortcomings in policy.

One such shortcoming identified through specific engagement with girl soldiers was the revelation that they did not all place a high value on or prioritise family reunification, as was once thought (UNICEF, 2005, p. 18). A Place Like Home, a report commissioned by Save The Children, stated that most children defined reintegration as being ‘welcomed back into the community’ (UNICEF, 2004, p. 11). Further evaluative post-DDR interviews conducted by MacKenzie and the Displaced Children and Orphan Fund confirmed UNICEF findings that ‘income generation…shelter and access to medical services’ were top concerns (UNICEF, 2002; UNICEF, 2005, p. 18; Mackenzie, 2012). This reveals that the broad scope of policies for child soldiers missed contrasting opinions. With a heightened awareness of specificity and the interviewing of subjects, the potential to pre-empt and mitigate troubles like poor school enrolment or mismatched solutions could follow.

The embrace of communities’ traditional practices supports this article’s holistic recommendations to widen gender-specific support. The shortcomings of stringently programmatic, organisation-led reintegration are identifiable and foster the continuation of social stigmas. Therefore, I propose that community-led reintegration may better suit girl soldiers. Reports indicate that communities’ hostility toward girl soldiers arises from the perception that they are beneficiaries of their abductors, often seen as ‘husbands’ (UNICEF, 2005, p. 18). Lacking avenues for communication, these girls are unable to share their stories, seek forgiveness, or rebuild trust with their communities. The DCOF’s assessment highlights the successful implementation of traditional rituals, presenting an opportunity for organisations to leverage their funding and technology to bridge communication gaps and facilitate girls’ reintegration (Williamson and Cripe, 2002). For instance, ‘Mary’, a fourteen-year-old, returned to her village in Kailahun through video calls organised by the International Rescue Committee. Her foot-washing ritual symbolised her acceptance back into society, while the cleansing ceremony marked her rebirth (Williamson and Cripe, 2002, p. 33). Post-conflict policies should serve as mediums for community-driven reintegration programs, as these approaches tend to be the most sustainable. The DCOF report’s specificity when detailing the examinations of reintegration in Kono, Kailahun, and Koinadagu communities underscores the need for radical revisions in PCPs, advocating for targeted strategies that reach unique groups like girl soldiers and avoid the pitfalls of overly broad approaches.

I class reintegration as the Achilles’ heel of DDR as it is often left incomplete by the programme’s formal close due to long-term contingencies like the degree of development and slow progression of employment rates. The research-theory praxis commissioned by organisational bodies does not actively seek to influence change, as observed in Sierra Leone, but rather retains a retroactive ‘lesson learnt’ perspective. As a result, a need to re-sequence DDR, especially in gun-heavy situations where disarmament is required, has appeared unfeasible. However, community-oriented programming seen in the second wave of DDR catalysed a perspective shift on frameworks stipulated in the Integrated Disarmament, Demobilisation and Reintegration Standards (IDDRS) (Muggah and O’Donnell, 2016, p. 128). Policies were now shaped to mostly align with local conditions and promised further inversion where future programs were ‘more all-encompassing than its predecessors’ (Muggah and O’Donnell, 2016, p. 131). To extend into more intensely spontaneous reintegration is a strategy which would hypothetically kickstart the programmes without hanging in wait for peace agreements (UN, 2014, cited in Muggah and O’Donnell, 2016, pp. 129-134). Perhaps inverting DDR has the ability to dismantle a formulaic structure that has faced recurring obstacles. The following discussion on strategies and re-orientations could have helped girl soldiers in Sierra Leone by allocating more resources and time to their reintegration.

3.2 REINTEGRATION HAS ITS LIMITS

As this article demonstrates, there remains tension in the emphasis on ‘traditional’ approaches that neglect the influence of local power hierarchies. Therefore, an attentive study of a community’s culture uncovers deep-rooted obstacles that demand careful consideration in future post-conflict policies. Michael Jackson’s Sierra Leone is an ethnographic body of work concerned with the post-conflict recovery of the Kuranko people in Sierra Leone and puts forward fresh considerations (Jackson, 2004). Jackson’s close attention to the Kuranko people revealed that forgiveness was not understood, in accordance with Western conventions, as a transactional act where an apologetic offering is received, and reconciliation follows. Instead, ‘recognition, love, identity and honour…’ were constitutive and necessary elements in order to forgive (Jackson, 2004, p.39). Such a re-orientation shifts the aforementioned policies’ linear programming into a precarious position, where it appears abstracted and shallow by its neglect of community members’ collective experience and varying definitions of reintegration. Jackson interviewed subjects who stated ‘M’bata hake to an ye’, meaning ‘I can forgive, but I cannot forget’, which posed a bigger question – how well can program-led reintegration address true reconciliation? (Jackson, 2004, p.68)

It became clear that it was not revenge that led to the rejection of combatants but the wish to avoid meeting personified mementoes of war like girl soldiers and their children (Jackson, 2004). It is arguable that for communities, the rejection of girl soldiers was their attempted approach to reclaiming control, and DDR’s reintegration upset this order of recovery. To an extent, I interpret the refusal of community members, like the Kuranko, to engage with ex-combatants as a novel exercise of justice not yet quantified or considered in the political discourse surrounding reintegration. The refusal to testify in the Truth and Reconciliation Commission demonstrated an autonomy formerly stripped away from victims of rebel forces’ violence. This act withheld the recognition of perpetrators, stalling their process of reconciliation, which emphasises that the core issue lies in the positioning of violent actors and the willingness of victims to embrace them into the post-war societal structure. This is a new exercise of power that draws on the inversion of power dynamics, drawing from Fanon’s understanding of decolonisation as when ‘the last shall be first’ (Fanon, 2004, p.37). In contrast, the perspective of another community, captured in the saying, ‘There’s no bad bush to throw away a bad child’, illustrates a spirit of acceptance (Stovel, 2008, pp. 305–324). This divergence reveals two critical insights: first, it underscores the plurality of community responses, demonstrating that a singular narrative cannot encompass all experiences in Sierra Leone. This observation aligns with the article’s central argument that embracing plurality holds the potential for addressing the complexities of post-conflict policy. It also suggests that the challenges discussed here may apply to some, but not all, Sierra Leonean communities. Recognising these cultural specificities, this article advocates for a post-conflict policy approach that prioritises the promotion of reconciliation over prescriptive measures.

Conclusion

In this article, I worked to demonstrate how colonial legacies and power dynamics have been significant drivers in the reintegration experience of girl soldiers in Sierra Leone. The synthesis of Mohanty’s decolonial feminist discourse and Bacchi’s WPR conceptual approach has not previously been implemented in the manner I present in this work. I identified parallels between ‘third world women’ and ‘girl soldiers’ and located the need for specificity in addressing struggles faced in reintegration, which remains a prevalent issue in DDR programming twenty-one years later.

Using this unique framework of understanding helps us imagine what changes could be made to reintegration. However, we must be careful to acknowledge limitations in the discourse that remain, such as the perspective of community members in the reintegration and reconciliation process and their absence in policy received and evaluated. This is because all policies are two-way and change shape depending on the response; a focus on combatants means attention must also be paid to civilians to navigate this binary and create a policy that accommodates both actors.

Overall, this article provides a new contribution to the literature. First, I, through a close critical analysis of UN documents, located the ‘problem’ as the characterisation of girls as victims using the WPR approach. Secondly, I theoretically identified how colonialism and unequal power structures foster this mischaracterisation by silencing the voices of ‘third world women’ to bolster the extant power hierarchies that situate them outside of progress and unable to resist oppression. Thirdly, I interrogated the problem of characterising girls as victims using the WPR approach and post-programmatic reports and interviews. Then, I evaluated policies and proposed improvements inspired by the insights provided in this article. Finally, I reiterated the importance of cultural specificity to the recovery of truths surrounding reintegration that are obscured by programmatic approaches.

This article’s understandings remind us that no degree of programming can fully return people to their prior state, but a championing of deep reconciliation, rather than shallow return, can encourage gradual steps to recovery and rehabilitation.

Subomi Ade-Alamu

© The Author(s) 2024. This is an open access article under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International licence, which permits use, distribution, and reproduction in any medium, provided the original work is properly cited.