The Locust Effect - Book Summary

Delve into the interplay between poverty and violence and learn how to take action.

Fear continues to plague the lives of numerous individuals in underdeveloped regions of the world — and it's not a fear that can be alleviated by better access to food, education, or healthcare. Instead, it's the looming threat of pervasive criminal violence that casts a dark shadow over these communities.

Violence doesn't just scar those who experience it directly. It's like a swarm of locusts, capable of undermining the economic vitality of entire nations. It targets the most impoverished, gnawing away at any semblance of stability that humanitarian organizations strive to establish.

The challenge then arises — why do many governments fail to effectively address this escalating violence? Moreover, what role can development groups play in supporting these governments to stem this tide? These are just a couple of the compelling inquiries we will explore.

We will also navigate through:

Why businesses in poverty-stricken nations often resort to shelling out enormous sums to engage with private courts;

The historical context that differentiates policing systems in India and the United Kingdom fundamentally; and

How a brief initiative in the Philippines managed to significantly mitigate the scourge of commercial child exploitation.

Exploring the profound effects of violence on emerging economies and their people.

There is a prevalent perception that the genesis of society's difficulties lies within impoverished communities. These populations often become the unjust target of trepidation among wealthier classes. However, it is not these disadvantaged communities that pose a threat. The real menace comes from those who inflict violence upon them.

Society's most devastating destructive force isn't a natural disaster like a hurricane, it's violence. To put this into perspective, consider Hurricane Stan. When it struck Guatemala in 2005, it wreaked havoc on the nation's economy and was widely reported as a catastrophic event. However, each year, the toll of criminal violence on Guatemala's economy amounts to nearly twice that of Hurricane Stan, equating to a loss of 7.3 percent in GDP, as per World Bank development reports.

The economic consequence of violent crime is even more stark in countries like Colombia or El Salvador, where it's estimated to curtail economic growth by a staggering 25 percent annually.

Violence inflicts damage on a country's economy in several ways. First and foremost, it incapacitates able-bodied individuals from contributing to the workforce. The metric of Disability Adjusted Life Years helps to quantify this issue by calculating the potential years of labor lost due to violence. For instance, as a direct result of instances of rape and abuse against women, nine million Disability Adjusted Life Years are forfeited every year.

This phenomenon particularly affects regions like Africa, where women account for 80 percent of the farming labor. Violence can significantly stifle food production in some of the globe's most impoverished areas.

Beyond the economic ramifications, violence exacts an even more severe toll on its victims. The aftermath can be particularly harrowing in developing nations such as Ethiopia. According to a 2009 Human Rights report, victims of violence in Ethiopia are prone to higher rates of depression, substance misuse, and suicide.

Understanding the failure of law enforcement in safeguarding the poor in many developing nations.

Picture a situation where you are assaulted, and when the police arrive, they support your attacker rather than you. While this scenario may seem unthinkable, it sadly mirrors reality for many people across the globe.

In numerous developing countries, the impoverished are stripped of even the most basic forms of protection. United Nations studies reveal that corruption is so entrenched in the law enforcement systems of these nations that underprivileged communities essentially exist beyond the reach of the law.

Take, for instance, the heart-wrenching story of Maria, a 14-year-old girl from Peru. Maria was violated three times by a local taxi driver. When the police learned of her ordeal, instead of launching an investigation, they berated Maria, unjustly blaming her for inciting the violation.

Inadequate legal protection for citizens is another glaring issue in developing nations. Dan, a teenage boy from Kenya, provides a poignant example. Despite never having a fair trial, Dan has spent eight months in prison and now faces a potential lifetime sentence.

Dan and two of his friends were protecting their local water source when a dispute escalated with an older man over alleged water theft. Following their arrest for violent robbery, they now stand accused in the Kibera Law Court. Dan's trial falls short of even the most basic standards of fairness. He lacks legal representation and doesn't even understand the language being spoken in the courtroom.

The impoverished don't fall victim to violence because they are poor; rather, they are subjected to violence because they lack protection.

Consider that 90 percent of all fatalities from malaria occur among poverty-stricken populations. It's not that malaria preferentially targets the poor. It's that the poor lack access to effective medical treatment to combat the disease.

Violence follows a similar pattern. Crimes committed against the poor often go unpunished, providing no deterrence for perpetrators such as Maria's attacker from repeatedly exploiting others.

Dysfunction within police and judicial systems in developing nations.

Imagine requiring urgent heart surgery and the only available professional is a local butcher. Unfortunately, this analogy fittingly depicts the state of law enforcement in numerous developing nations, where police officers often lack the necessary training and understanding for their roles.

A Human Rights Watch report from 2009 reveals a shocking reality — about 85 percent of police officers in India are constables, meaning they possess limited training in handling criminal cases. These constables receive a scant few months of military training and virtually no education in law.

The scarcity of police officers is another prevalent issue in many regions. In Bangladesh, for instance, government expenditure on law enforcement is merely $1.50 per person per year, as per a 2005 study by the Development Bank of Asia. Contrast this with Washington DC, which allocates $2.33 per person per day toward its police force.

The legal systems in developing countries often grapple with a severe lack of prosecutors. To illustrate, the United States boasts a ratio of one prosecutor for every 12,000 citizens, as reported by the United Nations. While this may seem like a small number, it pales in comparison to the scenario in countries like Malawi. Malawi has a meager total of ten prosecutors to serve its entire population of 15 million citizens!

The justice systems in countries with a dearth of prosecutors tend to be slow-moving and inefficient. For instance, in the Philippines, court cases can drag on for up to a decade, as highlighted in a 2008 study by Danilo Reyes, a prominent figure of the Asian Human Rights Commission. The individuals accused endure this protracted period in prison, regardless of their guilt. Innocent parties, therefore, risk losing a substantial portion of their lives for crimes they didn't commit.

The lingering legacy of colonial justice systems, designed to guard the privileged, in developing nations.

Expressions like "Let them eat cake" or "Throw them into the dungeons" might call to mind historical epochs of European nations. However, in their former colonies, remnants of such attitudes persist to this day.

Many post-colonial nations continue to uphold criminal justice systems that are a throwback to their colonial pasts. The concept of "police" was born in Britain in the mid-eighteenth century when Home Secretary Robert Peel replaced soldiers and guards with a new breed of civilian police. These early police officers, dressed in uniforms and unarmed, gradually earned public trust through their efforts to combat crime.

However, the colonial narrative painted a different picture. In the colonies, the primary objective of the police was to ensure the preservation of British dominance.

The Indian Rebellion of 1857 strengthened this role when the British opted to incorporate the markedly militaristic Irish Constabulary police model in their colonies. This approach was designed to safeguard the interests of the ruling elite, not the general public. Its influence extended not only to India but across all British colonies.

Regrettably, the end of colonial rule did not usher in comprehensive legal reforms. In many countries, the police forces continue to serve the elite, with laws from the colonial era still in effect. For example, the Indian Police Act, despite being 140 years old, remains a regulating force for the Indian police today, underscoring the anachronistic foundations of the nation's entire legal system.

These colonial-era police codes shed light on the current dysfunction of law enforcement in India and other South Asian nations. Rather than being trained to protect citizens from violence and criminal activities, the police are conditioned to safeguard the wealthy and enforce obedience among the masses when necessary. The need for education and modern equipment is often deemed unimportant in this context.

Private justice systems are supplanting public ones, amplifying inequality between the wealthy and the impoverished.

If you find the police ineffective and have the financial means, you're likely to seek alternate protective measures. This reality has given rise to independent private security structures in the developing world, some of which are experiencing extraordinary growth.

For instance, according to a 2010 article by journalist Manu Kaushik, over 5.5 million agents work for Indian private security firms. That’s an astounding fourfold increase compared to the total personnel in the Indian police force!

The World Bank highlights even more extreme circumstances in some African countries. In Kenya, for example, 80 percent of all businesses lean on private security firms for their safety.

In the face of defective criminal justice systems, the elite in developing countries manage to dodge the formal legal courts. This evasion has led to the rise of private courts or alternative dispute resolution systems.

These systems operate under an impartial intermediary who aids the involved parties to reach a consensus, much like a mediator. They are especially prevalent in transitioning states since they permit wealthier individuals to sidestep the inefficiencies and delays common in state systems.

However, this emergence of independent judicial systems further deepens the divide between the affluent and the impoverished. The heavier the reliance on citizens for financing private security and judiciary systems, the more the economically disadvantaged are barred from accessing these systems.

A 2010 study reinforces this reality. It reveals that even countries witnessing overall growth, like India and numerous sub-Saharan African nations, are failing to reduce extreme poverty. The underprivileged segments of these societies lack access to the resources that are improving the lives of the wealthy.

Historically, developmental aid has barely touched criminal justice systems, yet this trend might pivot.

Imagine a country's crops ravaged by a swarm of locusts. Simply replanting those crops won't suffice—the locusts would devour the fresh growth as well. The only viable solution is to tackle the locust problem itself.

Violence and crime echo this analogy. We've uncovered how defective justice systems undermine the poor, leaving them susceptible to criminal exploits—thus, any aid money funneled into these dysfunctional systems risks vanishing. If more aid is dispatched, it only fast-tracks its consumption by crime.

Overwhelmingly, developmental aid has bypassed the bolstering of criminal justice systems, primarily because international aid organizations prefer to avoid the appearance of meddling in a developing country's internal affairs. Therefore, global agencies typically tread lightly in matters related to criminal justice.

For instance, the World Bank is guided by regulations that forbid investment in infrastructures intended to enhance local law enforcement.

Even on occasions when organizations strive to fortify a country's legal framework, their efforts rarely zero in on the criminal justice system. More pressing issues like corruption and security tend to eclipse the attention. Overall, less than one percent of all developmental financial aid is allocated toward aiding the criminal justice system in better protecting the impoverished from violence and crime.

However, World Bank policies may undergo a shift soon, which could have a significant impact on safeguarding the poor from violence and exploitation.

In February 2012, World Bank experts proposed that future investments should embrace wider economic considerations, rather than being narrowly focused on specific economic gains. Investing in criminal justice aligns with this broader view—by shielding the poor from violence and exploitation, we concurrently fortify the economy.

The Project Lantern venture showcases how NGOs can help fortify criminal justice systems.

In the battle against crime in developing nations, aid organizations cannot substitute for local law enforcement. They can, however, provide counsel and assistance to national law enforcement bodies.

One example of this supportive role can be seen in the efforts of the International Justice Mission, an NGO that launched an initiative known as Project Lantern in Cebu, Philippines. This program seeks to shield children from sex trafficking. Through a four-year collaborative endeavor involving social workers, lawyers, and police officers, they worked alongside local authorities to establish protective mechanisms for local children.

Their advocacy led to the formation of a police task force specifically dedicated to combating human trafficking. They even managed to persuade the Philippine Supreme Court to prioritize sex trafficking issues.

Project Lantern has proved to be remarkably effective. Over 250 victims of sex trafficking have been rescued, and approximately a hundred suspected traffickers have faced charges and prosecution. Moreover, in the wake of Project Lantern's stringent measures, the involvement of children in the local sex trade has plummeted by 79 percent. Criminals are now firmly deterred, well aware of the penalties they'd face if apprehended.

Project Lantern also successfully brought about a shift in the treatment of sex trafficking victims. Prior to the initiative, victims were often held in the unsettling closeness of their abusers at police stations. This lack of separation left them vulnerable to further abuse or threats aimed at forcing them to retract their abuse allegations.

The Project Lantern team set up safe houses for victims, eliminating their need to stay at police stations. In these safe houses, they felt more at ease interacting with investigators and identifying their abusers, making it significantly easier to apprehend the offenders. The system proved so effective that the Philippine government assumed its operational costs and now oversees it.

In summary

The principal takeaway from this book:

In nations where impoverished communities remain unprotected against violent crime, societal progress is stifled. International aid, in such scenarios, is futile, as violence consumes it much like a plague of locusts. Foreign aid organizations must step in to bolster national judiciary and law enforcement institutions for the protection of the underprivileged. Only through such interventions can these developing nations inch closer to independence from external aid.