Two Views on Burundi Today

For years I have bemoaned the fact that books on Rwanda are published by the dozen while only a handful of scholars work seriously on Burundi—and even then they usually have done fieldwork among refugees or no fieldwork at all. And now not just one but two new books appear on this fascinating country that has in the past experienced so much suffering and is now experiencing enormous transformations that differ so much from the tightly controlled politics of Rwanda—and that bring hope for a peaceful future, in which people will dare speak their mind. My enthusiasm about the books, when they landed on my desk, was not lessened by the fact that they both deal with other hobbyhorses of mine, such as gender—in particular masculinities—development aid (Uvin), humanitarianism (Daley), mobility (Uvin), and refugees (Daley).

Despite the apparent similarities, the books are different in their ambitions, approaches, and style. While Daley introduces her argument through reference to the latest literature on sovereignty, race, intersectionality, and so on, Uvin's book takes as its point of departure the narratives of ordinary Burundians from all walks of life—collected over a year's fieldwork all over Burundi. While Uvin explores perceptions and opinions, Daley is searching for causes and structures. While Uvin focuses on the local—providing a bottom-up view—Daley argues for the necessity of the grand picture of international actors and influences. She lodges the Burundi conflict in the longue durée of colonial history, while Uvin's book is a snapshot of the present. This means that the two books supplement one another quite well; ideally anyone seriously interested in understanding Burundi (or other African countries recovering from conflict) ought to read them both.

In Life after Violence, Uvin does not make a clear statement about his objectives or theoretical arguments; instead this is a book that mostly aspires to provide insight into the lives and opinions of Burundians. However, I believe that Uvin's deeper ambition is to critique the assumptions of international development agencies and peacebuilding efforts by revealing how much they are out of touch with what people on the ground actually think and believe. At a more abstract level, his depiction of Burundian perspectives on war, ethnicity, youth, gender, mobility, corruption, politics, justice, truth, and trust can also be read as a thought-provoking exploration of African perceptions of self and social identity following large-scale violence. Although Uvin himself does not synthesize these insights into a larger theoretical argument, his extraordinary material, his vivid observations, and his flair for genuinely unprejudiced commonsense analyses make this an enormously rich book—the kind of book that makes you want to take notes all the time and reread chapters in order not to forget the details and fine observations.

I believe that anyone who is interested in understanding Africa—its politics, its conflicts, its masculinities and femininities, and the overwhelming influence of international development agencies—could benefit from reading this book. Practitioners could certainly profit from the essential "reality check" that the book provides. While Uvin does not mince words when criticizing the international aid system for understanding "pretty much nothing of the dynamics of political change" (79), he is determined not to trash international development aid at any cost. In fact—rather surprisingly—he concludes that many of the agencies' assumptions are perfectly in line with the perceptions of Burundians. Academics might also benefit from thought-provoking observations that disturb our concepts and assumptions and may become starting points for further analysis.

Daley's book is completely different both in scope and in approach. This is a...