Abstract
Often described as ‘the future of the nation’, children in South Sudan represent the promise of a stable positive national identity in this conflict-ridden, newly independent African country. State- and nation-building efforts in the post-independence period have similarly targeted the members of the youngest generations, at least at the discourse and normative levels, as ideas of nationhood and childhood are seen as mutually constitutive. Progress made since the 2005 Peace Agreement has, however, been negated by the recent resurgence of ethnically fuelled conflict and population displacement. Unsuccessful efforts to mould the highly ethnically heterogeneous population of South Sudan into a coherent national entity and the failure to satisfy the needs of the very young population constitute leading factors contributing to the escalation of violence. Based on fieldwork conducted in several localities in South Sudan and northern Uganda between 2009 and 2013, this article discusses some of the challenges and opportunities faced by South Sudanese children and youth as both objects of and agentive participants in their young country’s parallel nation-building and citizenship projects. By exploring the relationship between and children’s implicatedness in these two related processes, the realities and complexities of children’s lives in ethnically diverse conflict-affected nations like South Sudan are contrasted to these roles and mandates.
Keywords
Introduction: Heirs of the world’s newest nation
Often described as ‘the future of the nation’, children in South Sudan represent the promise of a stable positive national identity in this conflict-ridden, newly independent African nation. South Sudanese children have been traditionally valued not only for the material benefits they are expected to provide their households and their role in extending families and lineages, but also for their contributions to preserving time-honoured ways of life and valued cultural identities (Madut Jok, 2005). State- and nation-building efforts in the post-independence period have similarly targeted the members of the youngest generations, at least at the discourse and normative levels, as ideas of nationhood and childhood are seen as mutually constitutive.
Attempts to mould the highly ethnically heterogeneous population of South Sudan into a viable coherent national entity have, however, been fraught with numerous challenges. Practical responses to young people’s needs have had limited reach and have largely failed to address youth’s priorities. The progress made since the 2005 Comprehensive Peace Agreement (CPA) has been negated by the recent resurgence of ethnically fuelled conflict and massive population displacement. The current situation of political polarisation, tribalism and violence has been compounded by inter-generational tensions and deeply conflicting views on children’s participation in socio-political life. State-building measures have included the enactment of legislation including nationality laws, which are quite progressive, explicitly child-inclusive and aimed at protecting children against statelessness. On the other hand, a number of legal provisions reflect a marked rift between international standards and local constructions of childhood (Ensor, 2013b; Ensor and Reinke, 2014) and have had limited impact on the daily lives of most South Sudanese children and their families.
Study findings suggest that young people’s ‘geopolitical agency’ (Habashi, 2011; Habashi and Worley, 2009) is being both facilitated and constrained by their country’s rapidly changing circumstances, and the volatile regional relationships that impact South Sudan’s internal and external political behaviour. The massive flows of internal and cross-border displacement caused by the current conflict and worsening humanitarian conditions (Hovil, 2014; Hutton, 2014; Internal Displacement Monitoring Centre (IDMC), 2014) are likely to have a profound impact on affected youngsters’ access to citizenship and civic participation now and in years to come. This article discusses some of the challenges and opportunities faced by South Sudanese children and youth as both objects of and agentive participants in their young country’s parallel nation-building and citizenship projects. By exploring the relationship between and children’s implicatedness in these two related processes, the realities and complexities of children’s lives in ethnically diverse conflict-affected nations like South Sudan are contrasted to these roles and mandates.
I begin my discussion by outlining the conceptual and methodological frameworks that guided the research on which this article is based. Next, I present a brief overview of the current conditions in South Sudan, focusing on the link between conflict, displacement and nationhood as these processes relate to young people’s geopolitical agency. I then discuss some findings of my study, focusing on the experiences of children and youth as they navigate their tumultuous social and geopolitical environment. The final section offers some concluding thoughts, re-emphasising the need to attend to the critical, if conflicted, agentive roles that South Sudanese children are playing in their new country’s turbulent post-independence path to nationhood. While grounded in the specific realities of life in South Sudan, the lessons offered by this study speak to conditions in other troubled African nations and, by qualified extension, conflict-affected societies worldwide.
Conceptual and methodological frameworks
Political conflict provides a privileged window into children and youth’s geopolitical agency and their participation in national struggles and global movements (Habashi and Worley, 2009). Several recent studies confirm that young people constitute an increasingly large proportion of those actively involved in and displaced by wars and other forms of violent conflict worldwide (Blattman and Annan, 2007; Ensor, 2013b; Rosen, 2005; Shepler, 2005; Wessells, 2006). This reality has sparked renewed global moral panics about children’s ambiguous relationship with the state. It has also inspired theoretical debates on young people’s mobility and citizenship central to contemporary studies of children and society. As Mamadou Diouf (2003) phrases it, the ‘dramatic irruption of young people in both the domestic and public spheres’ (p. 3) forcefully points to the need to reconceptualise the place of children in contemporary societies across the world.
As a case in point, Boyden’s and De Berry’s (2004) detailed ethnographic analysis of children uprooted by conflict examined prevalent conceptions of childhood and challenged assumptions of universal vulnerability and victimisation of displaced children. Current social paradigms in the study of children and youth similarly emphasise young people’s agency and contributions to their communities (Ensor and Goździak, 2010; Holloway and Valentine, 2000; James et al., 1998; Schwartzman, 2001), even when confronting adverse circumstances. As Allison James and Alan Prout (1997) posited in their oft-cited volume Theorising Childhood, children ‘are active in the construction and determination of their own social lives, the lives of those around them and of the societies in which they live’ (p. 8). More recently, ‘attention has also been focused on the coexistence of both agency and vulnerability, and the interplay of distress and resiliency in the face of adversity’ (Ensor, 2014: 16). Similarly, scholars and child-rights advocates have progressively embraced a more positive recognition of the creative roles that young people can play as social actors and youth citizens (Ensor, 2012; Hanson and Nieuwenhuys, 2013).
Inspired by these perspectives, this article presents some of the findings of a larger study of young people’s geopolitical agency in processes of post-conflict reconstruction and peace- and nation-building in Africa; that is, their interactions with the local and geopolitical factors which constitute and define child agency in these processes (Habashi and Worley, 2009: 44). Citizenship is understood as encompassing formal aspects such as legal status, rights and political entitlements together with a positive view of membership and interpersonal relationships (Invernizzi and Williams, 2008). Citizenship thus entails a set of formal and legal instruments, as well as a set of beliefs and values intended to promote social cohesion (Schnapper and Bachelier, 2000).
While originally a Western concept, the notion of citizenship is equally relevant in non-Western contexts (Invernizzi and Milne, 2005). This distinction is, however, far from straightforward. Some authors (e.g. Hopkins, 2007; Horschelmann, 2008) recognise young citizens’ local reality as a lived experience of the globalised hegemony, while others (e.g. Pain, 2009) reject the existence of a dividing line between local and global discourses whose interactions they see as irremediably entangled. Yet others propound the need to consider the impact of ‘globalised hegemony’ in any analysis of children’s agency at the local level (e.g. Habashi, 2011: 130). Enmeshed in this uneasy landscape of local and global forces, young people’s agency in post-independence South Sudan is illustrative of what Cindi Katz (1998) refers to as ‘ruptures in the ecology of childhood and youth’ (p. 131). Juxtaposing traditional socio-political dynamics and modern imperatives both at home and in the diaspora, youth’s contributions to their country’s nationhood are reflective of the challenges and opportunities afforded by the processes of ‘growing up global’ (Katz, 2004).
My analysis of these issues draws on data obtained through field-based interviews and focus group conversations conducted with South Sudanese children 1 and their families in Juba, Yei, Magwi and Nimule (South Sudan), and with South Sudanese refugees in Kampala and Adjumani (Uganda) in June–August 2011, August 2012 and December–January 2012–2013, combined with a review of the literature and official documents. I initially relied on local authorities to recommend young people to participate – a common approach to field research in South Sudan where community leaders often expect to be consulted and asked to sanction projects. This strategy, however, proved to be problematic, as only those youngsters perceived to be loyal to local authorities were targeted as participants, likely excluding others whose views may have differed from the ‘accepted script’. Snowball sampling and iterative discussions held at the main places where young people congregate served to include a more diverse range of participants. Conversations explored South Sudanese youngsters’ hopes and priorities, and the challenges and opportunities they face as they navigate challenging circumstances and endeavour to construct their own identity as citizens of the newest nation.
Background: Historical and contemporary determinants
Even before Sudan’s 1956 independence from British colonialism, the main preoccupation of political debate in the South was how to turn its vast cultural diversity into a positive asset – an advantage rather than an impediment towards the establishment of a unified nation encompassing common interests across political and ethnic divides. Children and youth have always constituted an intrinsic element of the national project in which education has played a prominent role. A case in point was a programme of national boarding high schools intended to encourage children from across the country to study and interact with pupils from other ethnic nationalities. Learning about the diverse cultures of Sudan was expected to foster an appreciation for cultural and ethnic difference among the members of the youngest generations. In operation during the 1960s and 1970s (Madut Jok, 2011: 14), the Second Sudanese War (1983–2005) put an end to this programme, but not to young people’s active, if often conflicted, participation in their country’s path towards nationhood.
In 2005, as the war came to an end, South Sudanese anthropologist Jok Madut Jok (2005) lamented, [a] declining sense of communal responsibility for the continued well-being of related and unrelated children is evident everywhere throughout South Sudan … Joining the army, a militia or a gang of robbers is becoming one of the few choices they have. (p. 159)
After the war, efforts to promote sustainable peace and prosperity failed to resolve the multiple and complex grievances inflicted by a decades-long conflict largely fought by young people. Violence has thus remained a pervasive feature of the post-Second War period, as processes of political dialogue have seldom succeeded in producing substantive results. Lack of trust among national stakeholders, and the government’s perceived inability to respond to the needs and aspiration of the country’s very young population, are among the primary impediments.
The CPA of 2005 put an end to what had been Africa’s longest running civil war. It also initiated a six-year interim period which, although premised upon ‘making unity attractive’ for the country of Sudan as a whole, nevertheless culminated in an almost unanimous vote for independence by Southerners in a referendum held in January 2011 (Ensor, 2013a: 14). When South Sudan raised its new flag on 9 July 2011, a former rebel movement – the Sudan Peoples’ Liberation Movement (SPLM) – was faced with the colossal challenge of building a new country: Born on the ashes of decades of armed violence, South Sudan started independent nationhood facing significant constraints, as do all governments in poor countries emerging from conflict. Yet few nations have faced post-war reconstruction needs on the scale of South Sudan. In many respects, the term ‘reconstruction’ is an inaccurate depiction of the process, as the GoSS [the Government of South Sudan] is confronted with the daunting task of constructing a whole country anew – a new state apparatus and political institutions, along with new health, education, infrastructure and other basic service systems either entirely from scratch or from a very limited starting point. (Ensor, 2013a: 40)
Less than three years after achieving independence from its northern neighbour, South Sudan has once again been engulfed by widespread violence and displacement as the initial fervour for national belonging was replaced with a growing disenchantment with the government’s failure to achieve the expected ‘peace dividends’, to use a phrase frequently heard in official circles. Post-CPA South Sudan has remained afflicted by the same old problems, including the growing economic and political disaffection of the youth, increasingly bitter ethnic divisions, a tendency towards factionalism and the concentration of power and wealth in the hands of a small elite in Juba, the country’s capital. What started on 15 December 2013 as a political confrontation within the SPLM in Juba soon escalated and spread to all 10 South Sudanese States. As the Government of South Sudan (GoSS) lost its battle to solidify its nascent legitimacy, a deadly pattern of revenge and counter-revenge attacks along Dinka-Nuer ethnic lines ravaged the population, causing the death of thousands of children, women and men (Hovil, 2014; Office of the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs [OCHA], 2014). In December 2014, while the county marked the first anniversary of the conflict, the latest round of peace talks brokered by the Intergovernmental Authority on Development (IGAD) were adjourned indefinitely, as the warring sides could not agree on the make-up of a transitional government (Tanza, 2014). A full year of conflict has devastated the lives of millions of South Sudanese, uprooting nearly 2 million people. Nearly 1.5 million people have been displaced internally, and another 480,000 have sought refuge in neighbouring countries (OCHA, 2014).
Although this article does not include the views of youngsters affected by this most recent outbreak of violence, preliminary information made available by some of the aid agencies working in the region reports an unsurprising worsening of humanitarian conditions and massive displacement (IDMC, 2014; OCHA, 2014). Nearly a quarter of a million South Sudanese have fled to neighbouring countries, with Uganda receiving the largest number – around 87,000 (Hovil, 2014). As war-time imperatives make children simultaneously vulnerable and much needed contributors to their families’ survival and their society’s future, the associations between ideas of childhood, citizenship and children as the nation’s future (Jenks, 1996) discussed in this study are likely to become even more prevalent.
Children as citizens and nation-builders in South Sudan
‘Sudanese youth are fighting in the war zone, while other youths in the world are busy with discos and parties. We thank God that we have prepared those youth as the future of Sudan. God is great’, proclaimed Sudanese president Omar al-Bashir in his 11th anniversary speech to the Popular Defence Forces (Salmon, 2007: 9). Culturally grounded normative views on the proper role of young people in society combined with war-time imperatives have compelled minors in both North and South Sudan to participate in the war effort in multiple capacities. In May 2002, almost two decades into the Second Civil War, inter-agency assessments estimated the number of children associated with armed groups to be at least 17,000 (Save the Children et al., 2002).
War-time developments (i.e. the Sudan People’s Liberation Army’s (SPLA) split along Nuer and Dinka ethnic lines) prompted efforts to encourage youth to privilege their own ethnic affiliation at the expense of a collective southern identity. Many people from both tribes were forced to flee their ancestral homelands and seek refuge elsewhere, often in lands occupied by other tribes. As Madut Jok (2005) remarks, ‘[i]n complex historical relations such as these, one’s ethnic identity is always mobile and mutable’ (p. 157). This was particularly so for Equatorians who, less directly implicated in Nuer-Dinka divisions, have tended to view their ethnicity as more flexible and less primordially grounded on rigid bio-geographical determinants. Since independence, state- and nation-building projects in South Sudan have continued to invoke both childhood and nationhood as emotionally charged political categories, although the social meanings of these terms – and the roles children are expected to play – have gradually shifted to accommodate changing realities. Young people’s responses, on their part, have proven equally fluid and instrumental, and may entail accepting, appropriating or challenging social meanings to advance their own interests.
Prior to the recent outbreak of violence, South Sudan had been experiencing a very fast – if rather chaotic – process of state-building which emphasised the establishment of legislation and other official initiatives. A noteworthy element of this process was the Southern Sudan Child Act, signed into law in October 2008 by President Salva Kiir. Seeking to ‘extend, promote, and protect the rights of children in South Sudan’ (Southern Sudan Gazette, 2009: 11), the Child Act was enacted in accordance with the provisions of the Interim Constitution of South Sudan and the subsequent Transitional Constitution which came into force in 2011 when South Sudan became an independent nation. Another crucial component of the country’s state-building process was the South Sudan Nationality Act and related measures. While an in-depth analysis of South Sudan’s nationality laws is beyond the scope of this essay, a brief discussion of some of its most relevant provisions does assist in elucidating the institutional context that defines children’s legal citizenship and frames their geopolitical agency. A discussion of the obstacles to obtaining nationality faced by certain groups is likewise revealing.
Nationality laws in South Sudan
The South Sudan Nationality Act came into force on 9 July 2011 – the same day the country became a sovereign independent nation – establishing the legal mechanisms through which South Sudanese nationality is to be conferred. Drawing on the criteria applied in the referendum on independence, the Act gives the automatic right of South Sudanese citizenship to all individuals with one parent, grandparent or great-grandparent born within the geographical territory of South Sudan; to those who (or whose parents or grandparents) had been habitual residents of South Sudan since 1956 – the date of Sudanese independence from the United Kingdom; as well as to those who belong to an ‘indigenous or ethnic community’ of South Sudan (Ministry of Justice, 2011).
Some of the Act’s provisions seem, in principle, aimed at protecting children against statelessness – historically a grave concern in cases of state secession. Article 18, in particular, establishes that even if their custodial parent or legal guardian ceases to be a South Sudanese national, children are guaranteed to retain their nationality unless they subsequently become nationals of another country. Following the principle of ius sanguinis, children can be granted South Sudanese nationality if either one of the parents or grandparents is South Sudanese. In other words, the law does not distinguish between birth within and outside the national territory – the principle of ius soli – an additional protection against statelessness for the thousands of refugees who were born in exile. Unaccompanied minors as well as the thousands of women and children abducted during the war may, on the other hand, find it difficult to establish their rights to nationality (Dudwick, 2012: 8; Manby, 2012: 5). Such nationality is nevertheless required to access national educational and healthcare services, formal employment and financial services; to travel abroad; to establish property ownership; and to be entitled to equal justice before the law (Reynolds, 2012), rendering a sizeable portion of the population unable to avail themselves of some fundamental rights and protections.
Children, youth and the challenges of nationhood and citizenship
‘At the moment, South Sudan is only slightly more than a geographical expression. It contains more than sixty cultural and linguistic groups, each of which have a stronger sense of citizenship in their tribes than in the nation’, lamented Madut Jok (2011) shortly after his country’s independence (p. 2). His remarks are equally applicable to the present situation. Even before the recent resurgence of violence, the GoSS’ efforts to harmonise cultural nationhood and legal citizenship were hampered by the practical difficulties involved in implementing the South Sudan Nationality Act and related legislation. Prior to 15 December 2013 when gunfire first erupted in the country’s capital, South Sudan’s Nationality Bureau was overwhelmed by the enormous numbers of applications for citizenship received, even though for most, the experience was exceptionally burdensome and time consuming. Since the only nationality office was located in Juba and public transportation remained rudimentary at best, individuals from outlying regions faced significant travel obstacles and a wait of several days to see an officer. Some seemed discouraged from continuing to pursue a nationality certificate, which may ultimately have resulted in de facto denials of legal citizenship without the right of review. Their refusal to engage in a process they justifiably perceived as unreasonably onerous should not be categorised as a manifestation of passivity. Rather, it manifests a certain degree of ‘freedom of agency’, and could be even perceived as a form of resistance (Horschelmann, 2008). Other youngsters, although disgruntled and critical, chose nonetheless to persevere. ‘We’ve been queuing up since last week. It is all so slow that the office always closes for the day before we even get near the door’, protested some young would-be applicants who had travelled to Juba from the town of Nimule in Eastern Equatoria State. ‘We’ll try to arrive earlier tomorrow, but we’re staying with relatives on the other side of Juba, and it’s not easy to find a boda [a motorcycle taxi] before dawn’, they added.
All applicants were required to submit a birth or assessment of age certificate and two witnesses who were close blood relatives and knowledgeable of the applicant’s clan lineage. Access to such evidentiary documentation was uncommon – pre-independence, it was estimated that only one-third of Sudanese children under the age of five were registered at birth (Manby, 2011). Furthermore, locating applicable witnesses was often next to impossible for those affected by war-time displacement. For the thousands of young people who were born or spent their formative years in host countries, the process was reportedly even more challenging. Females of all ages similarly faced additional burdens. ‘It’s harder for women, especially if you left during the war and have no male relatives who can vouch for you’ lamented a very young mother with a small baby on her back. Although she reported to be only 14 years old, she referred to herself and her equally young companions as ‘women’. South Sudanese females are traditionally only considered ‘youth’ before marriage, which often takes place around, or soon after, reaching puberty. As a result, the category ‘female youth’ scarcely exists in South Sudan, a country where two out of five households are currently headed by females (Human Rights Watch, 2013). Abandonment or spousal death caused by the continued violence has resulted in a large number of women, some of them barely out of childhood, forced to fulfil traditionally male roles to support their children and other dependents. In spite of the harassment they occasionally faced, many were determined to obtain a nationality certificate so they could open a bank account, qualify for formal employment and access the other benefits of legal citizenship.
Another group who encountered significant difficulties comprised youngsters whose claims of citizenship and belonging in South Sudanese society might have been questioned on account of their perceived ‘foreignness’. Although not official procedure, in practice, physical characteristics were factored in during certification. In particular, those who originated from outside of Juba, belonged to some of the Equatorian, lesser known or cross-border tribes, or did not ‘look’ South Sudanese – usually in reference to skin colour – were often required to provide additional documentation. ‘If you’re not tall and black’, complained an irate Equatorian (from the Madi tribe) young man in reference to his generally much taller and darker skinned Dinka and Nuer compatriots, ‘your application is likely to be denied. They control the military; they control the government; they control everything!!’
Many young returnees were equally exasperated, not only by their difficulties in acquiring a certificate of nationality, but also by their conflicted position in society vis-a-vis their elders and those who remained in the country during the war: They say we are the future of the nation, but the elders continue to have everything … all the power. They say that they fought, and suffered, and died during the war, while we lived in peace in other countries.
Voiced in this instance by a former refugee who had recently repatriated from Uganda, tensions between returnees and those who remained behind over access to resources and decision-making power were frequently reported, occasionally degenerating into physical violence. The hardship suffered by refugees was often ‘discounted by those who remained in the South during the war, whose own suffering is invoked to legitimise their higher moral claims to patriotism’ (Ensor, 2013c: 9). The possibility that inter-generational tensions may have been exacerbated by the protracted conflict also emerged as a prominent theme in numerous analyses of nationhood in South Sudan (Leonardi, 2007; Madut Jok, 2005; Willis, 2002).
The strained relationship between South Sudanese youth and their new government was an additional cause for concern, with disappointment and frustration over government responses to youth needs, and the marginalisation of youth voices in government policy, being consistently reported by resident and returnee youth alike. ‘We need to get the official papers. Before independence we were all considered Sudanese. Now new papers [identification cards or nationality certificates] are necessary to open a bank account and even to get a proper job’, remarked a frustrated University of Juba student. He hoped that his education would help him acquire a high-status, well-paid job with the government or with a United Nations agency, international donors or nongovernmental organisations (NGOs) – a possibility made more remote by the present circumstances. Interviews with government officials revealed conflicting views of the government’s capacity to satisfy youth’s expectations. The slow response to unresolved youth’s grievances resulting from the government’s inability – if not disinclination – to satisfy the needs of their huge youth constituency exacerbated already tense relations, and likely contributed to the current escalation into renewed violence.
As the previous examples reveal, prevalent views of South Sudanese childhood and youth, constructed in everyday discourse and official polity as a critical locus for state- and nation-building projects, do not always adequately reflect the views and aspirations of youngsters themselves. Young people’s agency is becoming simultaneously constrained and increasingly indispensable in the context of their country’s volatile and rapidly deteriorating circumstances. Notions of nationhood and childhood in South Sudan are both framed by universalist views of child rights and formal citizenship, and moulded by the everyday realities of life in a war-torn society where tribal and kin-based allegiances often supersede national interests. Operating within the parameters of the resources available or denied to them as a result of this uneasy interaction of global discourses and local imperatives (Katz, 2004), the child agent in South Sudan ‘is not merely a social agent, but a geopolitical agent’ (Habashi and Worley, 2009: 44).
Concluding thoughts
In a world divided into discrete nation-states, people, young and old, find their very humanity and worth inextricably connected to modern forms of citizenship and nationhood, as Hannah Arendt (1958) perceptively observed decades ago. The acquisition of nationality tends to be associated with enhanced opportunities for civic participation and other aspects of citizenship. On the other hand, formal citizenship, defined by international and domestic legal frameworks, may be unreflective of local constructions of nationhood and belonging based on kin membership and ethnic affiliation. In countries like South Sudan, characterised both by pronounced ethnic diversity and tribalism (Madut Jok, 2011) and protracted – or renewed – ethnic-fuelled violent conflict, the development of national allegiances necessitates an inclusive approach encompassing common interests across political and ethnic divides, and also reflective of gendered and inter-generational differences.
As Kristen Cheney (2007) concluded with regard to Uganda, South Sudanese people invoke ‘metaphorical similarities to show how, since the nation is still young and developing, it is like a child that requires special care and nurturing’ (p. 2). Similarly, a diverse range of socio-spatial contexts within and across national borders simultaneously constrain and enable South Sudanese children’s geopolitical agency. Many are instrumentally manipulating fluid notions of social belonging to advance their own interests. Global discourses of victimisation and persecution – a necessary element of the legal definition of the term ‘refugee’ in international law – are juxtaposed with local cultural understandings of children as resourceful contributors to their households’ survival. Official efforts to promote national unity and legal citizenship compete with the need to integrate ethnic and kin-based allegiances, both of which present particular challenges for the hundreds of thousands of young people who were born or raised in exile (Ensor, 2013a, 2013c). As they contest and re-interpret critical cultural meanings, the members of the youngest generation of South Sudanese serve as important catalysts for social change, contributing in the process to the construction of emerging notions of South Sudanese nationhood.
South Sudan’s post-independence path to nationhood is still unfolding in conflicted and, at present, intensely violent ways. Unquestionably, ‘[y]oung people have often been the focal point of the many processes that characterize the rapidly changing South Sudanese scene’ (Ensor, 2013a: 54), and continue to play a crucial role in the current impasse. Studies of children’s experiences in these turbulent times provide a privileged vantage point from which to elucidate how contestation over concepts of citizenship and nationhood intersect with evolving conceptual and normative notions of childhood. This study illustrates how young people’s struggles to establish their legal citizenship became entrenched in local constructions of national identity, and draws attention to the importance of considering differences in age, gender, ethnicity and displacement status. These are all critical factors that affect children and youth’s potential to participate in the reconfiguration of the society, and will thus influence their country’s success or failure at statehood. Adequate attention to young people’s experiences as citizens and nation-builders must therefore be an integral element of any efforts to address the widespread violence that threatens to escalate into another full-blown civil war.
The ultimate conclusion of South Sudan’s present historical juncture is yet to be decided. The members of South Sudan’s youngest generations are increasingly becoming, both discursively and factually, primary vehicles for social change and key agents in their country’s turbulent journey to nationhood. Comprehensive solutions to promote their new country’s return to the path towards peace and prosperity must thus attend to the specific ways in which South Sudanese children and youth have been affected by and are participating in and contributing to the resolution – or worsening – of the processes affecting their beleaguered nation.
Footnotes
Funding
This research received no specific grant from any funding agency in the public, commercial or not-for-profit sectors.
