Week 3Social vulnerability to disaster myth of community, gen.docx

Week 3
Social vulnerability to disaster: myth of community, gender,
and ethnicity
Last week what did we discuss?
The theories about disasters
The dominant paradigm and criticisms of it
The alternative model: political ecology
PAR model
This week we will discuss
Disaster justice
Social vulnerability to disasters:
Myth of community
Causes of differences in social vulnerability:
Gender
Race/ethnicity
Others
Culture and vulnerability
Disaster justice
Linkages to Environmental Justice
Hillman (2006, 695) explains that “environment justice as a
political movement and research programme originated amidst
concerns over the unjust distribution of environmental hazards
primarily in, or close to, disadvantaged or marginalised

communities.”
Most scholars trace the origin of the environmental justice
movement to a protest in 1982 against the dumping of PCB-
laden dirt into a waste landfill in Warren County, North
Carolina. The county was 65 percent Black.
This protest marked one of the first times when civil rights and
environmental groups collaborated. Studies in the 1980s and
early 1990s which demonstrated linkages between not only
environmental risk, namely the location of toxic waste sites,
waste dumps, and power plants, and poverty but also between
environmental risk and race in the US further empowered these
activists,
Also, only starting in the 1990s, has the environmental justice
framework been applied outside of the United States.
It is still not widely used in Asia as a framework academically
but there are increasing movements for environmental justice
(e.g. in China, Vietnam, and Thailand)
Regardless, of the location, as Schroeder et al. (2008) assert, at
the core of environmental justice struggles are universal and
part of broader patterns of injustice of a global significance.
Schlosberg’s 3 types of injustices
What are they?
distributive (how environmental goods and harms are unevenly
distributed)
procedural (whether different groups have equal access to
decision-making)
lack of recognition (whether groups have been discriminated
against due to their identity).
2 key questions

1) what patterns of social inequality exist in relation to the
environmental good or bad?
This question is a distributional one in which a contextual
process claim of injustice is being made.
Such a claim analyses a specific situation, such as the
distribution of floodwater in Bangkok in 2011, and historically
traces patterns of urban development and decision-making and
how these patterns produced injustices.
Questions that also need to be asked are how inequalities are
being produced, who is responsible for them, how decisions
have been made have, and how are government policies and
practices created and enacted
2) The second series of questions are procedural ones,
examining how a society operates: how power is distributed,
and how uneven environmental outcomes arise as a
consequence?
A basic insight of the movement is that “distribution of
environmental goods and harms,” e.g. has a tendency to “follow
that of economic goods and harms” (MacCallum et. al 2011)
Paavola and Adger (2006) valuably add that a just response to
disaster risks must first incorporate the principle of prioritising
the most vulnerable. This group is comprised of those most in
need in terms of redistribution, but also these people’s rights
must be recognised so their voices are included in decision-
making processes.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0L2xCwD5RNI

Disaster Justice
Applying the environmental justice framework to disasters
emerged in 2006 as Hurricane Katrina revealed that
environmental injustices arose largely due to pre-existing
structural inequalities
Since then, a small but growing body of literature has framed
disaster risks in the US and elsewhere as a question of
environmental inequality and injustice.
By emphasising inequalities in vulnerability, one can assess
what constitutes justice and fairness for those at risk to
disasters, rather than treat them as a ‘given’ or as problems that
need to be managed
Group exercise
Please give example of the 3 types of injustices which could
arise from the following environmental problems:
1) urban flooding in a) Jakarta and b) Bangkok
2) typhoon in a) Philippines and b) Myanmar
3) earthquake in a) China and b) Indonesia
4) drought in a) India and b) North Korea
To begin
What is social vulnerability to disasters?
How did we define vulnerability last week?
“The characteristics of a person or group in terms of their
capacity to anticipate, cope with, resist, and recover from the
impact of a natural hazard”
Though remember there is no such thing as a natural hazard!
What are the key words in this definition?
“person” “group” and “capacity”
So how does society affect vulnerability?
Social and economic attributions/characteristics such as

poverty, race, class/caste, ethnicity, gender, age, physical
ability, and housing affect vulnerability to disasters in all
phases of the disaster cycle (preparation, response, relief,
recovery, etc.)
But also cultural beliefs affect vulnerability too
Last week we discussed some about the link between poverty
and vulnerability. This week we will discuss other
characteristics
Disaster research and projects
Lot of disaster research and projects in Asia to reduce
vulnerability focus on the community level
“‘Community’ has become the badge of honour that enables the
organizations which receive funds to claim that they are doing
the right thing”
The World Bank alone has invested or granted US$ 85 billion in
the past ten years to local participatory development activities
NGOs, Red Cross Red Crescent and others dedicating to
supporting vulnerable communities
What are some definitions, markers, or examples of
communities in your country?
In Thailand, urban communities are recognised as legal entities
and receive a small monthly budget from the municipality, or,
in the case of Bangkok, the district office.
In each community, a community leader and committee
members are elected every two years.
Why focus on the community?
Over the past 40 years or so, there has been a major shift in
much development work from ‘top-down’ policies towards a
much greater focus on ‘grass-roots’ and participatory activities.
This change has given rise to a greatly increased role for NGOs

(local, national and international) – including those engaged in
DRR and CCA – as major agents for development.
Community is mostly seen as a location or geographical space,
often a village or an urban neighbourhood, because this is how
the organizations involved give a clearly defined boundary.
Within this boundary goals are set, recipients of aid defined,
activities carried out and budget spent
the definition of ‘community’ that organizations end up with is
that it is merely ‘where we work’
Some value in this approach?
Includes diverse groups who may or may not have a common
interest
Working at the local scale can help to identify local problems
and come up with local solutions
Positive intervention which doesn’t challenge existing social
relations within the community
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SFNpLGgY_DI
But what’s wrong with this approach?
The Myth of Community: Four major problems
Communities are NOT a uniform, homogenous entity lacking
internal conflicts and divisions
Power systems at the local level

The problem of participation as a method of engagement with
communities
Differences within households (gender, age, disability, etc.)
1. Divisions and conflicts within communities
Communities are “a romantic idea”
Notion of community falsely implies unity, collaboration,
cooperation and sharing
Uniformity is rare in terms of class, ethnicity, livelihood, or
wealth
But in reality, the ‘community’ in most cases is a collection of
different class groups arranged in a structure of power relations
linked to which group has more or less ownership of land.
“Communities are complex and often not united. There will be
differences in wealth, social status and labour activity between
people living in the same area and there may be more serious
divisions within the community” - Twigg (2009)
In many cases, no social cohesion and collaboration but
conflict, friction, and intra-community exploitation
E.g., in ‘community’ in a city in India: rich had created
boundary walls which pushed water to poorer households
Class/caste
Social discrimination: don’t feel same part of community
E.g., in project in India, volunteer from higher caste said there
was no point talking to people from lower castes as they are
unable to grasp key concepts being discussed and provide
meaningful input
Another example: those from higher caste, don’t want to work
together with those from other castes because didn’t want to
participate as ‘equals’
Urban communities

Often in developing Asia, many migrants -> lack of social
cohesion/trust
Second, in rural areas: villagers work together (e.g., farming
together) which lead to shared values and more social cohesion.
In contrast, wage laborers or work informally – but not
together. So also less cohesion
Third, in poor urban communities, evicted or some forced to
move -> new groupings of people -> less social cohesion
2. Power relations within communities
Some groups and individuals within groups have more power
Internal divisions are related to power systems
Power systems create unequal vulnerabilities to disasters
For example, land tenure: the ways that land (especially rural
land) is owned and controlled by different classes.
Most landless and land-poor households have to labour on other
people’s land. Landowners have a lot of power
E.g., following disaster, commons for land owners to give
credit/loans to landless people.
This can lead to the poor being effectively tied to the landlord
for many years, in a form of debt bondage.
Highly unequal access to land debunks simplistic ideas about
community.
Land and the power it gives or takes away create diverse
patterns of vulnerability
Elite Capture
Local elites within communities: community leaders,
landowners, etc.
Those who have power are able to use it (either during the
project or after it is finished, or both) to acquire the assets or
other benefits of the project activities
E.g., in Pakistan, poor and landless peasant households lost

crops and homes, while their absentee landlords were able to
claim large sums of compensation from the government for
damage.
Threatens pre-existing patronage systems
In India, project would popularize water-harvesting in four
neighbourhoods (or ‘communities’) that were facing water
scarcity.
Would bring substantial benefit to people in these
neighbourhoods
Their elected representative had a very negative attitude
towards the project
he allegedly provided water tankers in the summer for political
allegiance and electoral funds in local elections
Another example from India
Project organized volunteers to collect and dispose garbage to
protect drains from blockage and to help get rid of storm water
to prevent flooding.
This change threatened the existing, malfunctioning system of
waste management that was allegedly a source of kickbacks for
the local politician
So local elites could either benefit from project, sabotage it, or
stop it from continuing afterwards
So overall, DRR projects may disturb (or worsen) the existing
power relations
Examples from my research in Bangkok
North vs South: 1) northern community leader used money from
government to develop the north while south remained a slum

but still same community
He and others in north opposed project to upgrade housing in
community and move community away from canal because he
would lose his ‘land’ from it from which he encroached
Southern side wanted to split into two communities but district
office in Bangkok opposed it saying there were too many
communities
Mayor in Bang Bua Thong, a town on outskirts of Bangkok,
gave more relief packages and boats to households who voted
for him. But also compensation
Problems with participation
Any ideas?
Participatory exercises are often public events that are open
ended regarding target groups and programme activities. Thus,
such events are inherently political and the resulting project
design is often shaped by local power and gender relations.
Outside agendas are often expressed as local knowledge. Project
facilitators shape and direct participatory exercises, and the
‘needs’ of local people are often shaped by perceptions of what
the project can deliver.
Participants may concur in the process of problem definition
and planning in order to manipulate the programme to serve
their own interests. Although their concurrence can benefit both
project staff and local people, it places consensus and action
above detailed planning.
Participatory processes can be used to legitimize a project that
has previously established priorities and little real support from
the community.
Have to work with oppressive local leaders
Need to contact (and get the approval of) the local government

officials and local ‘leaders’
In village in India, DRR researcher found that ‘head of the
village’ had murdered 2 field laborer union leaders because they
asked for higher wages from him
After that, unlikely poor people and others would express own
views if different than his
4. Differences within households
What are some differences?
Differences within households: gender, age, disability,
Need to take into account these differences in terms of
vulnerability to disasters
Group exercise #1
Please discuss differences in vulnerability to disasters of these
groups and the reasons why
Think about the different phases of the disaster cycle:
preparedness, impacts, emergency response/relief, and recovery
1) Women
2) Minority race/ethnicity
3) Children
4) Elderly
5) Disabled (blind, deaf, etc.)
Women
Cannot be understood outside of patriarchy and global
capitalism
E.g., men migrate to find work and leave women behind in rural
environment or risky urban settlements
Primary resource users, many depend on natural resource based
livelihoods
Responsible for dependents in households
Gender inequality due to unfair barriers to education and

achievement, cultural devaluation of women, gender division of
labor, and gender violence
Gendered vulnerability to disasters
The “digital divide” in cyberspace (unequal access to computers
and the Internet) is a limiting factor in many cultures –
constrains access to warnings
studies of major destructive events in the developing world,
girls and women are highly vulnerable to the effects of
environmental disasters and are the majority of those killed
Reasons: family care, physical health, and reproductive status
But also gendered division of labor is a powerful explanation -
puts adult women and men in physically different locations.
E.g., when 2004 Indian Ocean tsunami wave came ashore in
many Sri Lankan villages, men out fishing survived more often
than women waiting on the beach to prepare and market the
day’s catch
Women’s access to health care before disasters can deteriorate
further in the aftermath, as was reported of low-income Katrina
survivors who depended upon diabetes clinics
Women have lower caloric intake than men, partially due to
social inequalities, especially impoverished ones, makes them
physically weaker and more prone to injury/death
But also difficult for pregnant women
women at greater risk of post-disaster stress
Higher risk of emotional abuse and violence in aftermath of
diseases
Caregiving responsibilities – must take of children – puts them
more at risk
Gender bias in recovery programs may also deter women’s
recovery -> e.g., Women more likely to denied small-business
loans and access to disaster-relief programs

Securing relief falls largely to women
Women’s group actively involved in crisis period
However, women are less involved in decision-making and
planning processes -> often excluded
E.g., small minority of emergency managers in Australia
But also women have disproportionate burden to care for
victims
Women’s economic status and family roles are formidable
barriers in the race for affordable housing, making women more
dependent on temporary accommodations
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Em6QE5R9XMw
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1AD6Q4aEIns
More positively
Women organize at grassroots levels to manage risk and
respond to disasters
Following Hurricane Katrina, many women who were
community activists prior to the storm stepped into advocacy
roles for equity in disaster relief and recovery
A network of women’s organizations, called Rise Together for
Women in East Japan Disaster, united to promote the rights of
women and other vulnerable populations who were affected by
the “triple disaster” of earthquake, tsunami, and nuclear
meltdown in 2011.
Racial/ethnic minorities and disaster
Language barrier (warnings, talking to emergency agencies,
filling out forms afterwards, etc.)

Less trust in authorities
Different degree of social networks (e.g., some minorities
would have fewer)
Often higher fatalities: rate of blacks injured from hurricanes
much higher in the US
Higher degree of emotional stress/injury
Racism in response – e.g., response workers in US restored
power first to white communities
Media bias: media focuses on majority communities ->
contributes to their recovering quicker
Racism in relief/compensation: government gave less relief
and/or compensation money to minorities
In Thailand: government agencies only gave relief to Thai
citizens not overseas workers, such as Cambodians Burmese,
even though millions work there
Cultural differences/misunderstanding: don’t take into account
native culture and lifestyle
E.g., American government rebuilt houses for Inuits in Alaska
with small kitchens and large living rooms but their family life
centered on kitchens
Similar to women, less access to finance
More positively
Racial groups have formed community groups, political
coalitions and pushed for change after discrimination
experience during and after disasters
Some coalitions were successful in improving living conditions
of minorities in the US
Also can open political dialogues about racism/discrimination

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nnF5I7lt6nQ
Elderly
Researchers have found that the elderly, which are people aged
65 and over, constitute a group especially at risk to disasters.
This intensified risk is due to their lower likelihood to receive
warnings, higher reluctance to evacuate, and higher probability
to become physical casualties as a result of disaster
In comparison to those who are younger, elderly are more
susceptible to injury, economic losses, employment
interruptions, and accruement of large debts
Number of characteristics of the elderly, such as living alone,
smaller social circles, and fewer resources, causes them to be
more vulnerable, psychologically and physically, to disasters
There is differential vulnerability within this group: the old-old
(75 years and older) are more vulnerable than the young-old
(65-74 years old) because on average, the old-old are less
affluent, active, and independent
Post-Katrina demographic analyses found that rather than race,
old age was the most accurate predictor of the likelihood of
death from the hurricane
Richard Blewitt, the head of HelpAge International, an NGO
focusing on assisting older people, stated, "In an emergency,
older people's lives are affected by many factors. These include
inaccessible food distribution points, rations that are too heavy
to carry or too difficult to digest and a tendency to share their
rations with family members. Also, relief agencies often fail to
recognise the needs of older people, even when they are caring
for children”

Thailand 2011 Floods
The elderly were highly vulnerable to the floods for a number of
reasons
First, many elderly decided not to evacuate because they never
thought the water level would rise as high as it did. Such high-
level flooding had never occurred during their lifetimes.
Second, many were worried about having their property stolen
if they left their houses
Third, it was physically more difficult for the elderly to venture
out into flooded areas to receive relief supplies
Those who didn’t evacuate had trouble accessing sufficient
healthcare – roads blocked, had to use boats -> some died as a
result
Higher rate of illness: flood-related stress was either a trigger
for their illnesses or they became sick because of the dirty stale
water and difficult living conditions
Limited incomes -> government doesn’t give much pension
Children
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yDz6Xpkn9is
Any other groups with vulnerabilities?
Disabled: both mentally and physically
Sexual minorities: gay, lesbian, transsexual
Group exercise #2
Develop a disaster risk reduction plan in a community (which

doesn’t have elite capture) for these groups in an Asian country:
A. Women
B. Ethnic minority
C. Elderly/children – you pick
D. Disabled (blind/deaf/mentally disabled)
1) Pick the type of disaster
2) Pick the country
How could community-based DRR work?
The interventions being proposed can take place for the benefit
of the poor and vulnerable without needing to change existing
power relations.
Powerful people and institutions are incorporated into the DRR
and CCA process, and have a common interest in supporting the
measures being taken.
Because they recognize the common dangers of worse disasters
and climate change, the powerful realize they need to transfer
resources or raise poor people’s income so that vulnerability
and poverty are reduced.
The DRR and CCA interventions challenge the status quo in a
way that is unacceptable to the powerful, who may pretend to
cooperate while subverting the process or capturing its benefits
(during or after the project).
Culture and disasters
What is culture?
Culture is the pattern of ideas, values, and beliefs common to a
different group of people.
So includes religion, traditional values/customs, folklore,
superstitions, folklore, etc.
How does it affect vulnerability/risk to disaster?

Cultural factors play a large part in determining perspectives,
influencing whether people decide to make changes that will
minimize current and future vulnerability
But little attention has been paid to how cultural systems
influence society’s perceptions of and responses to natural
hazards, even though these influence choices about livelihoods,
priorities, and values
Reviews of DRR and adaptation activities show that cultural
issues continue to be poorly addressed in policy and science.
Examples
Can you think of any?
In 1963 at Mount Agung in Bali, Indonesia, more than 1,000
people were killed in a procession heading towards lava flows,
believing the flows were their gods descending to greet them
In Central America, the more fatalistic and individualistic
Evangelical Protestants were less likely to be involved in DRR
projects, because their religious doctrine dictated that humans
have no power over such divine forces
Most Pacific island people consider that their devotion to God
is sufficient to protect them from harm
In Kenya, traditional ceremonies are forms of coping strategies.
The community response to drought includes prayer. Praying
often involves other actions, which bring together the
community. This makes them better prepared mentally, and
sometimes physically, to deal with hazard.
Many Filipinos believed that disasters are acts of God
How does this affect vulnerability to disasters?

Therefore must take account of people’s own beliefs and
attitudes to the hazards that are embedded in their lives
Studies have shown that strongly held sociocultural values, such
as those embedded in caste systems, do shift as the need arises
Acknowledgment that culture is not stationary in time, but,
rather, that it is dynamic and can adapt to changes in
environment and society
CMP105: Week 7 Assignment Page 3
` Case Study: Social Media in Education and
HealthcareAssignment Overview
This assignment is intended to demonstrate your comprehension
of the primary applications of health informatics in healthcare
organizations as well as the ethical and legal issues involved in
the healthcare informatics field.
For this assignment, you will read a case study that examines
the use of social media in education and healthcare. Based on
the scenario described in the case study, you will answer
questions related to the various ways social media might be
used in these settings.Assignment Details:
Perform the following tasks:
· Complete the reading assignment and the interactive lesson
before attempting this assignment.
· Read the case study located in the Assignment Worksheet
section below and answer the questions that follow
· Ensure that your responses are free of spelling and grammar
errors.
· Cite all sources used to support your responses in APA format.
· Submit the Week 7 Assignment via Blackboard by clicking on
the “Week 7 Assignment” link.
· Include the proper file naming convention:
· CMP105_wk7_assn_jsmith_mmddyyyy.

Grading:
Grading Criteria
Points Possible
Points Earned
Question 1
· Selects social media tool; includes website
10
· Provides rationale for selecting social media tool
30
Question 2
· Develops set of instructions for accessing social media tool
30
Question 3
· Creates a set of appropriate “ground rules”
10
· Provides thoughtful rationale for created ground rules
30
Question 4
· Provides response that addresses criteria of question.
30
Adheres to the Writing Conventions (APA); responses are free
of grammar and spelling errors.

20
Total Points
160
Assignment Worksheet:
· Case Study
Read the following case study and answer the questions that
follow:
Grace Speak is a fourth-year student at Best University. She and
her fellow classmates are working hard in their final courses
and preparing for exams. Inspired by the teamwork that the
healthcare profession espouses, Grace gets an idea for a study
group. She thinks it will really help to share case experiences,
course notes, and study tips. Unfortunately, several members of
her peer group live out of town, which makes it difficult for
them to participate fully. Grace is torn, as she does not want to
exclude them from the study group. When she voices her
concerns to a classmate, her friend suggests using social media
tools as the primary medium for sharing information.
Questions
1. Two required elements that a single social media site must
have to meet the needs of her study group are the ability to
share ideas and experiences (chat), and share information (store
documents). Research several social media sites that meet both
of the required elements for Grace’s group. Select one social
media tool, include its website, and explain your rationale for
selecting that tool.
Selected Social Media Tool (and website)
[Write your response here.]
Rationale

2. Grace discovers that not all of the members of the group use
the social media tool she selected. In your own words, create a
set of simple instructions that other members of the group could
follow to ensure full group participation.
3. Grace decides to establish a set of “ground rules” from the
outset when she forms the study group. Create a set of “ground
rules” that will help to create a group with full participation by
all members and that will not place members of the group at
risk, for either privacy or academic (plagiarism) concerns.
Provide your reasoning for the “ground rules” you established.
Ground Rules
Rationale
4. In a specific week, the assignment is particularly challenging.
One of the students in the study group offers to post the
“answers” he received from a student who completed this same
assignment last year from the same instructor. Grace knows that
one of her close friends in the study group is at risk of failing if
she does not do well on this assignment. Describe how Grace
might handle this situation to reduce the academic risk of
plagiarism for herself, her friend, and other members of the
study group.
Welcome to AIS 5337:
Disaster Management, Development and Regional Governance

in Asia
Danny Marks
Course Introduction
Myself
Syllabus
Course Rules
No question is a stupid one! Please raise your hand and stop me
at any point
No chit chat!
Yourself
Let’s start with some polls
https://www.polleverywhere.com/my/polls
Why should we care about disasters?
In 2018, there were 315 natural disaster events recorded with
11,804 deaths, over 68 million people affected, and US$131.7
billion in economic losses across the world.
The burden was not shared equally: Asia suffered the highest
impact and accounted for 45% of disaster events, 80% of deaths,
and 76% of people affected.
And why study them?
1) We are rushing headlong into a calamitous future - The
future is uncertain and the evidence that we have predicts
apocalyptic scenarios if we do not change course but rather
continue to over-consume and destroy our only world. This
gives a massive sense of urgency to the research field.

Think of recent forest fires in Australia
2) It is a pathway to protect the vulnerable - Disasters are about
people at risk. Those most affected by disasters are the most
marginalised, discriminated against, dispossessed and displaced
in our society. They need to have a platform for their voices to
be heard. A disaster researcher has a great opportunity to
connect human IMPACTS to ROOT CAUSES, and make
evidence-based arguments for change.
3) Complex, extreme conditions are not well understood - Most
conventional knowledge is built on what we can predict and,
ever more widely, what we can model. Outliers are not
recognised in our computations and as a society we are broadly
ignorant of disaster risk. We need more complete, more
straightforward and more challenging data.
4) It is an outlet for activism - Disasters are political! Don't let
anyone tell you otherwise. The biggest challenges in
communicating truths about disaster are myths and
misconceptions, widely held in our society. BUT people are
interested, and they do care. Convincing arguments can be made
and turned into action in this field that certainly grabs the
attention.
5) The current system is not working - The status quo is
creating risk, not reducing risk. Our leaders are either blind to
the dangers of maintaining the social/economic/political order
or are owned by special interests in rejecting the consideration
of alternatives. The study of disasters provides a perspective on
this dilemma.

6) Disasters highlight socio-economic inequality and injustice -
This is a unique place from which to critique the many
structural failures in our society. As we investigate why people
are at risk, how they are impacted and how they can avoid
future calamity, we have the opportunity to collaborate with
other disciplines to develop more holistic responses to injustice.
What is a disaster?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BZXNcli9suo
What’s your reaction to the clip?
Given this course, is on disasters – how would you define one?
Any guesses?
How is it different than a hazard?
Hazard is a natural phenomenon that could but may not trigger a
disaster
Examples include volcanic eruptions, tsunamis, and storms
Movement of Earth’s crustal plates triggers earthquakes and
tsunamis.
Variation in solar radiation entering the atmosphere and oceans
triggers storms in the summertime and blizzards in winter.
The movement of energy in Earth’s system is what drives these
natural processes.
7
So how is a disaster different from a hazard?
Disasters occur because of the intersection of hazard with
exposed people and assets that are vulnerable to the hazard.
A disaster is a sudden, calamitous event that seriously disrupts
the functioning of a community or society and causes human,
material, and economic or environmental losses that exceed the
community’s or society’s ability to cope using its own

resources.
Vulnerability is the “characteristics of a person or group in
terms of their capacity to anticipate, cope with, resist, and
recover from the impact of a natural hazard” (Wisner et al 2004)
Are disasters on the rise?
Yes!
Quadrupled (400% more) in last 40 years
And even more than in last 100 years
Number of Disasters: 1900-2011
More frequent & intense extreme weather events
Criteria for inclusion as disaster. Any guess?
10 or more people dead
100 or more people affected (which means people requiring
immediate assistance during a period of emergency, i.e.
requiring basic survival needs such as food, water, shelter,
sanitation and immediate medical assistance.)
The declaration of a state of emergency
A call for international assistance

Why do you think many more disasters & increased
damage/injury from them today?
Increased population – greater number of people exposed to
them
But also greater concentration – more people live in cities so if
these cities are hit, higher damage and losses
Better reporting technology/information – before some parts of
globe couldn’t report (e.g., were isolated)
Climate change
Environmental change within country.
Can think of any examples?
Cutting down of mangrove forests – worse waves/erosion
Cutting down trees – more flash foods
Concretization and filling in of waterways – more runoff for
floods
Building in hazardous areas, e.g., upon hill or mountain ->
landslides
Climate emergency and disasters
Climate Change & Extreme Weather Events/Disasters

Greenhouse Gas Effect
Of GHG: carbon most abundant followed by methane and then
ozone
C02 is a major player; without any of it in the air, Earth would
be a frozen wasteland
The gas has increased 43% above the pre-industrial level so far
When did human start having a big impact?
Humans started having a big impact during the Industrial
Revolution due to the invention of the steam engine and
production of coal.
One of the keys to the Revolution was the invention of the coal-
powered steam engine because it freed up energy constraints
that had previously limited the scale of economic production in
the past.
The downside is that the burning of coal and other fossil fuels
emits additional carbon dioxide (CO 2 ) into the air.
Deforestation too increases the amount of CO2 in the
atmosphere because it weakens the capacity of sinks. As a result
of these two trends, the level of CO2 in the atmosphere has

skyrocketed from its pre-industrial level of 280 parts per
million (ppm) to today’s level of 407 ppm, over 40%
Warming of the Earth’s Surface
The climate has increased 2.0ºF (1.1ºC) since 1880 (when
records began at global scale) with the majority of this increase,
1.2ºF (0.7ºC), occurring in the past 30 years
Most regions of the world are warmer now than at any other
time since at least 900 CE
In the last 10 years, we have recorded 9 warmest ones
2016 was so far warmest year on record - 1.78 degrees
Fahrenheit (0.99 degrees Celsius) warmer than the mid-20th
century mean
The number may sound low, but as an average over the surface
of an entire planet, it is actually high
Observed change in surface temperature 1901-2012
Chart of Rising Temperatures
https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2018/08/30/climate/how-
much-hotter-is-your-hometown.html
C02 Rise Tied to Temperature Rise

How do we know humans are responsible for the increase in
carbon dioxide?
Hard evidence, including studies that use radioactivity to
distinguish industrial emissions from natural emissions, shows
that the extra gas is coming from human activity.
More plant-based isotopes in atmosphere due to fossil fuels
(which mainly come from old plants) being burned
Carbon dioxide levels rose and fell naturally in the long-ago
past, but those changes took thousands of years.
Geologists say that humans are now pumping the gas into the air
much faster than nature has ever done.
Could natural factors be the cause of the warming?
In theory, they could be. If the sun were to start putting out
more radiation, for instance, that would definitely warm the
Earth.
But scientists have looked carefully at the natural factors known
to influence planetary temperature and found that they are not
changing nearly enough.
The warming is extremely rapid on the geologic time scale, and
no other factor can explain it as well as human emissions of
greenhouse gases.

Why climate emergency/climate?
You can think of global warming as one type of climate change.
The broader term covers changes beyond warmer temperatures,
such as shifting rainfall patterns
Other changes besides warming
Sea level rise: predicted 18-60 cm rise by 2100 -> currently
about 3 mm/year worldwide
Over the last two decades, the Greenland and Antarctic ice
sheets have been losing mass, glaciers have continued to shrink
almost worldwide
Ocean acidification: increase in 30% acidity – 30% of emissions
absorbed by oceans
Most of Them Hydrometereological
Hurricanes & typhoons get their energy from warm ocean
waters, and the oceans are warming because of the human-
caused buildup of heat-trapping gases in the atmosphere,
primarily from the burning of coal, oil and gas.
The strongest hurricanes have gotten stronger because of global
warming.
Over the past two years, we have witnessed the most intense
hurricanes on record for the globe, in both hemispheres: the
Pacific and now, with Irma, the Atlantic.
More Heat Waves
In July 2016, Mitribah, Kuwait reached 129.2 °F (54 °C) and

Basra, Iraq reached 129 °F (53.9 °C).
These are the highest temperatures ever recorded in the Eastern
Hemisphere and on planet Earth outside of Death Valley
It is virtually certain that there will be more frequent hot and
fewer cold temperature extremes over most land areas on daily
and seasonal timescales as global mean temperatures increase.
It is very likely that heat waves will occur with a higher
frequency and duration. Occasional cold winter extremes will
continue to occur
Some places could become inhabitable
Wildfires
Wildfires are increasing and wildfire season is getting longer
(e.g., US & Australia).
Higher spring and summer temperatures and earlier spring
snow-melt result in forests that are hotter and drier for longer
periods of time.
This makes it easier for wildfires to ignite and spread
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sGx6P2UR8Ig
So who is responsible?
We are!
There is no such thing as a natural disaster – all disasters are
manmade
If better building structures, fewer losses and deaths from
earthquakes
Better city planning, fewer losses from floods

More mangrove forests, fewer losses from typhoons
But also us for emitting greenhouse gases (burning fossil fuels
& cutting down forests)
But there is good news…
Why is this the case?
Richer countries have fewer losses: better infrastructure, better
warning systems, better building codes
And there have been improvements in some countries, such as
Philippines – better warning system there now
Disasters in Asia
Since 1970 a person living in the Asia-Pacific region has been
five times (500%) more likely to be affected by disasters than a
person living outside the region.
Between 1970 and 2016, Asia and the Pacific lost $1.3 trillion
in assets. Almost all of this was the result of floods, storms,
droughts and earthquakes including tsunamis
From 2020-2030: predicted that 40%of global economic losses
from disasters will be in Asia
Greatest losses in the largest economies – Japan and China,
followed by the Republic of Korea and India
2000-2015: low- and lower middle-income countries
experienced by far the most disaster deaths, and lost more
people per disaster event
More than 8,000 people died per disaster – almost 15 times the
average toll in the region’s high-income countries

Since 1900, 9 of 10 biggest disasters in terms of death toll were
in Asia
Big disasters since 2000:
India earthquake in 2001: 20,000 deaths Asian tsunami in 2004:
165,000 deaths
Pakistan earthquake in 2005: 73,000 deaths
Sichuan earthquake in 2008: 87,500 deaths
Cycle Nargis in Myanmar: 138,000 deaths
Thailand floods in 2011: $45 billion in damage
Japan tsunami/earthquake in 2011: 20 killed and $162 billion
Typhoon Haiyan in Philippines in 2013: 7,350 deaths
Women particularly vulnerable in Asia
Some countries are more vulnerable than others

Disasters and development
There has long existed a strong correlation between the
magnitude of disaster consequence that affect a country and the
levels of poverty that are experienced by its population.
The cost of mitigating significant hazard risk can be extremely
– even prohibitively – high. From preparing the land for
resistant construction, to building resistant structures, using
resistant materials and practices, and maintaining resilience, all
come at a cost to the private and public sectors
“Development” is the gradual improvement of a nation’s
infrastructure, access to services, institutions, public health,
foreign debt, and many other development indicators
It is well documented that countries repeatedly faced with
catastrophic (capacity-exceeding) disasters tend to experience
stagnant or even negative rates of development over time
So in Asia, lot of poverty but also disasters worsening poverty
and hurting development in some countries (e.g., Philippines,
Bangladesh)
Trans Inst Br Geogr
NS 32 411–427 2007
ISSN 0020 -2754 © 2007 The Authors.
Journal compilation © Royal Geographical Society (with The
Institute of British Geographers) 2007

Blackwell Publishing Ltd
Peace in the wake of disaster? Secessionist
conflicts and the 2004 Indian Ocean
tsunami
Philippe Le Billon* and Arno Waizenegger**
This paper explores the impact of ‘natural’ disasters on armed
conflicts, focusing on
the evolution of secessionist conflicts in Aceh and Sri Lanka
following the 2004 Indian
Ocean tsunami. Most studies suggest that ‘natural’ disasters
exacerbate pre-existing
conflicts. Yet whereas conflict did escalate in Sri Lanka within
a year of the tsunami, in
Aceh hostilities unexpectedly ended within eight months.
Drawing on a comparative
analytical framework and semi-structured fieldwork interviews
in Aceh, the study
points to the importance of spatial dimensions in explaining
diverging political
outcomes in Aceh and Sri Lanka, focusing on the reshaping of
governable spaces
following the tsunami.
key words
natural disaster war conflict resolution political geography

Aceh Sri Lanka
*Department of Geography and Liu Institute for Global Issues,
University of British Columbia, Vancouver, BC, V6T 1Z2,
Canada
email: [email protected]
**Department of Geography, University of Cologne, Albertus
Magnus Platz, 50923 Cologne, Germany
revised manuscript received 19 February 2007
Introduction
On 26 December 2004, a sub-marine earthquake
150 kilometres west of Sumatra triggered a tsunami
that directly affected about 2 million people (TEC
2006). Among the estimated 227 000 people who
lost their lives in the disaster, nearly 90 per cent
lived in Aceh or Sri Lanka. Structural poverty,
profit-driven coastal exposure and a criminal neglect
of disaster prevention had increased vulnerability
along many coastal areas of the Indian Ocean
(Glassman 2005). In Aceh and Sri Lanka,
vulnerability also reflected decades of civil war
and military repression (Lawson 2005), and the
tsunami raised hopes of peace for both places
(Renner and Chafe 2006). Disasters can bring about
political transformation (Pelling and Dill 2006), but
they appear to be more frequently followed by
political unrest than peace (Olson and Drury 1997;
Brancati and Bhavnani 2006), and the conflict

resolution effects of ‘disaster diplomacy’ are rarely
lasting (Kelman and Koukis 2000; Kelman 2006).
Whereas hostilities escalated in Sri Lanka within
a year of the tsunami, the conflict in Aceh ended
eight months after the disaster. Taking a geographical
perspective, this paper examines these diverging
paths.
Political violence and ‘natural’ disasters are
intensely geographical phenomena, in both their
material and imaginative spatialities (Pelling 2003;
Wisner
et al.
2004; Flint 2005; Gregory and Pred
2006). Geographers have studied various aspects of
the relationships between environment and conflict,
but ‘natural’ disasters and armed conflicts have
received limited attention (see Dalby 2002). Similarly,
geographers studying hazards and vulnerability
have given only limited or recent attention to
armed conflicts (Pelling 2003; Korf 2004), with the
notable exception of wartime vulnerability to
drought (see Wisner
et al.
2004), and the politics of
humanitarianism (Hyndman 2000). Few studies
have bridged these two literatures, although political

ecology suggests interesting approaches and areas
of convergence (Watts and Bohle 1993; Pelling
412
Philippe Le Billon and Arno Waizenegger
Trans Inst Br Geogr
NS 32 411–427 2007
2003). Drawing together these literatures and polit-
ical sciences studies suggesting that pre-disaster
political trends play a major role in the outcome of
disasters, we suggest a conceptual framework to
examine the impact of ‘natural’ disasters on armed
conflicts and present a geographically focused
analysis of the cases of secessionist conflicts in
Aceh and Sri Lanka following the 2004 Indian
Ocean tsunami.
We first outline debates on disaster-related conflict
transformation, and then present a geographically
informed framework engaging with the impact of
disasters on conflict transformation, with a focus
on its spatial dimensions. The conceptual approach

first distinguishes between different types of
conflicts and disasters and then analyses disaster
effects through three lines of inquiry: the location-
specific spatialities of disasters and conflicts (i.e.
which areas and populations were affected by
conflict and/or disaster); the transformation of
‘governable space’ (i.e. shifts in territorialized
power relations); and the transformation of public
discourse about disaster-struck and conflict-affected
areas. We do so through three main dimensions:
military, socio-political and socio-economic. In the
second section, we draw on this framework to
explain divergence in conflict transformation in
Aceh and Sri Lanka. Drawing on 62 field-based
interviews, the study focuses on the ‘Acehnese’
exception and examines Sri Lanka for comparative
purposes (see methodology note below).
Our findings confirm that pre-disaster political
trends played a major role in post-disaster conflict
outcomes, but we also suggest that the specific
spatialities of conflicts and disasters, as well as the
reshaping of governable spaces and public dis-
courses in the wake of disaster influenced the
diverging political fallouts of the tsunami in Aceh
and Sri Lanka.
Political fallouts of ‘natural’ disasters and
conflict transformation
The political character of ‘natural’ disasters and
disaster-related activities is well documented
(Birkland 1998; Olson 2000; Wisner

et al.
2004).
Disaster risk has ‘political roots’, notably (unequal)
power relations and (under) development processes
(Peacock
et al.
1997; Pelling 2003). Hurricane
Katrina, for example, renewed attention to inter-
racial and class-based inequalities, prejudices and
tensions in the United States (Bakker 2005; Frymer
et al.
2006). Politics, rather than the strict ‘needs’ of
disaster victims, also influence responses to disasters
(de Waal 1997; Fielden 1998; Drury
et al.
2005).
Interpretations of disasters represent political
choices with political impacts, particularly from a
gender perspective (Enarson and Morrow 1998),
and for disaster recovery or future risk mitigation
(Harwell 2000).

Two main arguments are generally presented
regarding the political fallouts of disasters. First,
disasters can foster political change (Birkland 1998;
Prater and Lindell 2000), notably because they
result in grievances among the affected population
and a more acute sense of identity. Disasters offer
possibilities of enhanced legitimacy for the political
leadership, and generally result in greater scrutiny
over dominant institutions and development
policies, a repositioning of political actors at multiple
scales, and ‘spontaneous’ post-disaster collective
action (Pelling and Dill 2006). Collective action can
also result from the mobilization and representation
of place-based and disasters-affected populations
by external ‘contentious supporters’ eager to leverage
grievances to challenge the political status quo
(Shefner 1999). Post-disaster collective action faces
a risk of repressive backlash by authorities (Drury
and Olson 1998; Pelling and Dill 2006). Conflicts
also undermine disaster prevention and mitigation
by eroding the trust between citizens and their
government, and have enduring effects on the
vulnerability of politically marginalized groups
(Wisner
et al
. 2004). If disasters are found to gener-
ally aggravate ‘political unrest’, especially so in
countries already affected by conflicts (Drury and
Olson 1998; Wisner

et al
. 2004), disasters are also
perceived as a ‘window of opportunity’ for peace,
notably through the alteration of value structure
among survivors, the need for mutual relief assistance
and collaboration between belligerents, enhanced
local political socialization and mobilization, as
well as international involvement and ‘disaster
diplomacy’ (Quarantelli 1978; Kelman 2006; Renner
and Chafe 2006). In this respect, early studies
observed much variability in outcomes but noted a
higher prevalence of conflicts during ‘reconstruction’
than ‘emergency’ phases of disasters (Quarantelli
and Dynes 1976).
Second, the political fallouts of disasters largely
reflect pre-disaster contexts and trends (Hoffman
and Oliver-Smith 2002; Lindell and Prater 2003).
Post-disaster conflict transformation would thus
represent an acceleration and amplification of
Secessionist conflicts and the 2004 Indian Ocean tsunami
413
Trans Inst Br Geogr
NS 32 411–427 2007

pre-disaster social and political dynamics, rather
than a ‘new departure’ brought about by a devastating
disaster. Economically, the higher the pre-disaster
Gross Domestic Product and income inequality in a
country, the less political systems seem affected
by a disaster (Drury and Olson 1998). Among low
and middle-income countries, democracies tend
to face higher levels of violent unrest following
disasters than autocracies (Drury and Olson 2001).
Studies based on rational-choice conflict resolution
bargaining models, however, give relatively limited
attention to context beyond elitist politics, macro-
economic indicators and third party interventions
(see Sundberg and Vestergren 2005). In contrast,
theories of conflict transformation – arguing that
transforming interests, social relationships and dis-
courses are key to ending violent conflicts – engage
with a broader contextualization (Miall
et al.
2005).
Geographical approaches can contribute to this
contextualization, notably with regard to spatialized
identities and spaces of vulnerability (Watts and
Bohle 1993; Cutter 1996; Wisner

et al.
2004; Rigg
et al.
2005; Stokke 2005). Pelling and Dill (2006)
emphasize the greater risk of tensions resulting
from the pre-disaster political marginality of
affected regions and post-disaster exacerbation of
pre-existing inequalities. Hyndman (forthcoming)
stresses the importance of overlapping geographies
of war, disaster and relief resulting in new spaces
of solidarity, hatred, hope and fear transforming
conflicts. Simpson and Corbridge (2006) also
demonstrate how the politics of ‘place-making’ in
Kachchh-Gujarat following the 2001 earthquake
challenged established authorities by reasserting
regional political identities and projects. So far,
geographical approaches have not been systematically
incorporated in research (see Greenhough
et al.
2005; Sidaway and Teo 2005), and the spatialities of
conflicts and disasters often remain under-specified.
Early sociological studies of disasters and conflicts,
for example, often considered ‘natural’ disasters as
‘consensus building crises’ compared to divisive

‘technological’ or ‘social’ disasters (Quarantelli
1978). Systematic specification of types of conflicts
and disasters helps to determine whether different
types of disasters (e.g. catastrophic or chronic)
have different impacts in specific conflict types
(e.g. territorial/successionist or governmental). For
example, the combination of drought and seces-
sionist conflict has proved particularly deadly, as
demonstrated in Sudan in the late 1980s (Keen
1994). Inquiries into the conflict and disaster
nexus can also specify the location of conflicts and
disasters. Taking the spatiality of disasters and
conflicts into account should improve the robust-
ness of analyses (Buhaug and Lujala 2005), and
allow hypothesis testing (Waizenegger and Le Bil-
lon 2007). Beyond location, spatial attributes
should also include place-based, scalar and discur-
sive dimensions. Drawing on Michael Watts (2004),
we use the concept of ‘governable spaces’ – defined
as spaces of territorialized rule (see also Rose 1999)
– to engage with processes through which spaces
are made governable, or not, by some social networks
rather than others. Although an emphasis is placed
on governmental rule, this definition acknow-
ledges multiple networks, scales and temporalities
at which rule can, or cannot, be territorialized and
exercised.
Like armed conflicts, ‘natural’ disasters can
dramatically affect the territorialization of rule.
Materially, catastrophic disasters can destroy infra-
structures critical to the enactment of governmental
territorialization, such as communication infra-
structures, and affect the spatial distribution and
‘governability’ of populations. Institutionally, disasters

can result in international interventions challenging
domestic territorial sovereignty through the creation
of ‘humanitarian’ space, or more broadly trustee-
ships (Debrix 1998). Disasters can also contribute to
the transformation of public discourse on conflict-
affected areas. The representation of the ‘enemy’
population and territory as ‘victims’, for example,
may strengthen support for peace within the con-
stituency of the opposing party (Evin 2004). The
victimization of the disaster area and disaster-
affected population, however, can also reinvigorate
sectarian interpretations and nationalist calculations of
suffering and injustice, notably with regard to bias
in territorialized aid allocation. In this regard, tran-
sition from a political economy of war to one of ‘recon-
struction’ also often entails a re-territorialization
of rule, following for example the registers of
democratization and ‘neo-liberal’ re-regulation
prescribed by international donors and development
agencies.
Building on this conceptual approach, we refine
our analytical framework through the articulation
of three dimensions of the reshaping of governable
spaces during ‘post-disaster’ conflict transforma-
tion: military, socio-political and socio-economic.
Rather than being discrete, these dimensions are
often closely related and embedded or revealed
through particular spaces.
414

Trans Inst Br Geogr
NS 32 411–427 2007
Disasters and conflict transformation
Two main conditions are generally required to end
armed conflicts. The ‘ripeness’ of the conflict and
the ‘willingness’ of belligerents to end it as a result
of a ‘mutually hurting stalemate’ are often perceived
as a precondition (Zartman 1989). The second is the
resolution of incompatibilities, distrust, and lack
of commitment preventing negotiations and their
successful implementation, between conflicting elites
and within society more generally (Wallensteen
2002), addressing territorial incompatibility being
crucial to secessionist conflicts. These two main
conditions in turn relate to military, socio-political
and socio-economic transformations.
The military dimension of post-disaster conflict
transformation is, at first glance, obvious: disasters
can kill or incapacitate military personnel (physically
or psychologically), destroy military equipment
and infrastructures, as well as disrupt transporta-
tion networks and supply channels. Military forces
can also be redirected to disaster relief efforts,

rather than combat. A reduction in fighting capability
may affect all or only some of the armed groups,
with two main possible consequences: the intensity
of hostilities may decline as forces attempt to cope
with the impact of the disaster; or hostilities may
increase as the warring parties opportunistically
seek to benefit from the relative weakness of the
adversary. As a hypothesis, we suggest that stronger
forces are more likely to act opportunistically and
seek to escalate the conflict, while weaker ones
will attempt to reconstitute their forces, using the
post-disaster context as a ‘cease-fire’ period to
achieve political gains and possibly re-arm. As
such, the spatiality of disasters can directly and
selectively affect territorialized military rule in a
conflict.
The socio-political effects of disasters, and more
specifically the transformation of civilian rule and
political relations, can also reshape governable
spaces. Disasters can affect the perception of those
affected through trauma and the psychology of the
‘near miss’, while more pressing issues of survival
take precedence over broader struggles (Quarantelli
1978). Disaster-induced suffering might also help
to overshadow and alleviate previous suffering
inflicted by war. At an interpersonal and inter-
communal level, ‘goodwill’, mutual assistance
across a conflict’s fault-lines, and work towards
common tasks can reduce prejudice and contribute
to the emergence of ‘therapeutic community’ (Barton
1969), changing the socio-political dynamics of
conflict (Renner and Chafe 2006). At an institu-
tional level, as discussed above, there is much
evidence that disasters can destabilize political

systems, thereby offering opportunities of conflict
transformation (Cuny 1983; Albala-Bertrand 1993).
Many governments have exploited disasters to
increase their strength, improve their image and
maintain the status quo, notably through major
foreign contributions to relief efforts and occasionally
under false pretence of post-disaster ‘transforma-
tion’ of society rather than the ‘reconstruction’ of
previous inequalities (Brown 2000). In turn,
increases in legitimacy potentially enable authori-
ties to contribute more decisively in negotiations
and peace building.
By reducing the capabilities of governments
while increasing the number of citizens’ demands
on the political system, disasters can create a
‘highly charged, politically embarrassing environ-
ment’ (Birkland 1998, 57). External assistance can
help local authorities in this regard, but windfalls
in relief and reconstruction aid can also increase
the risk of (perceived) fraud, corruption, misman-
agement and dispossession by the government and
its cronies, aggravating the plight of the most
vulnerable and grievances against authorities. By
enhancing local political socialization and mobili-
zation, disasters also frequently strengthen civil
society and social movements for peace, at least
momentarily. How government and rebel authorities
react to such opening up of ‘political space’ affects
in turn the relative level of tensions: a repressive
backlash is likely by authorities perceiving political
change as subversive (Drury and Olson 2001;
Pelling and Dill 2006). Disasters also transform the
international geopolitical context of a conflict by
directing attention to the disaster- and conflict-
afflicted region. The deployment of domestic and

international civil society groups, the support of
donors, as well as public mobilization through
demonstrations, can also open up and broaden
‘public space’ in which ‘civilian rule’ thrives. This
new context may open the political system, making
it more inclusive (Fuentes 2003). Critics, however,
point to the opportunistic instrumentalization of disasters
to pursue ideologically driven or self-interested
agendas with negative effects on vulnerability of
local populations (Duffield 2001; Wisner 2001).
Moreover, interventions in disaster-affected areas
often entail processes of identity construction (e.g.
‘Internally Displaced Persons’) and territorialization
(e.g. ‘refugee camps’ and ‘resettlement programs’),
415
Trans Inst Br Geogr
NS 32 411–427 2007
with ambivalent political consequences (Hyndman
2000).

A third aspect of governable spaces relates to
socio-economic processes, most notably the
transformation of endowments and entitlements,
such as the allocation of relief and reconstruction
assistance (e.g. territorialized processes of aid
‘beneficiaries’ selection, resettlement, reconstruction
planning or reshaping of the ‘war economy’).
Spaces of military repression, disaster, relief and
reconstruction all differ in how rules shaping the
political economy are defined and territorialized.
Disasters and disaster-related activities are prone
to causing or deepening inequalities along pre-existing
fault lines in societies, increasing grievances and
disaffection and possibly heightening the risk of
(renewed) conflict (Cuny 1983; Wisner
et al.
2004).
Post-disaster changes in endowments and entitle-
ments, including land and land holding, as well the
allocation of relief and reconstruction assistance,
frequently proves a source of conflict, especially
when landmarks have been changed, property
knowledge and titles destroyed, and disaster
mitigation and adaptation processes manipulated.
Indirect economic effects such as inflation in rents
and food prices increase hardships and discontent-
ment among vulnerable households, while benefiting
particular segments of the population. Moreover, relief
assistance has occasionally sustained belligerents,
thereby prolonging the conflict (Keen 1998).

Tsunami and conflict transformation in
Aceh and Sri Lanka
All Aceh people really yearn for peace in the wake of
the natural disaster.
1
Both Aceh, Indonesia’s most northern province,
and Tamil Eelam, Sri Lanka’s northeast claimed
as Tamil ‘homeland’, have been the territorial
objects of secessionist conflicts over the past three
decades. The Acehnese struggle for independence
dates back to 1873, when the Dutch first took con-
trol of the sultanate. Post-independence, hostilities
opposed Acehnese pro-Islamic forces against the
centralized and secular Indonesian regime during
the late 1950s and early 1960s. Initiated in 1976, the
contemporary phase of the conflict has opposed
the Free Aceh Movement (
Gerakan Aceh Merdeka
–
GAM) to Indonesian security forces, resulting in
the death of an estimated 15 000 people and wide-
spread human rights abuses (Reid 2006). In 1998,
the ‘metaphorical economic quake’ affecting Southeast
Asia precipitated the fall of President Suharto and

brought hope of peace and greater autonomy for
the Acehnese (Sidaway and Teo 2005, 1; Reid 2006).
Special autonomy legislations by the Government
of Indonesia (GoI) fell short of GAM’s expecta-
tions, however, and cease-fire agreements had twice
broken down when President Megawati declared
Martial Law in Aceh in May 2003. The Indonesian
security forces then embarked on the largest
military operation since East Timor, with 40 000
military troops (
Tentara Nasional Indonesia –
TNI)
and 12 000 national police (POLRI) present in
Aceh, closing the province and severely affecting
the living conditions of the Acehnese people (Tapol
2004). By the time the tsunami struck, this latest
period of hostilities had displaced at least 125 000
persons (see Figure 1a; IOM 2004; Mahdi 2006a).
The contemporary Tamil secessionist conflict in
Sri Lanka was also initiated in the mid-1970s, follow-
ing failed negotiations over a federal system dividing
power between the majority Sinhalese and minority
Tamil populations, sectarian riots, and liberalization
reforms supplanting a politics of redistribution between
classes with one based on ethnicity (Stokke 1998;
Wilson 1999; Hyndman 2003). The conflict escalated
into civil war in 1983, opposing the Liberation
Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE) against the Sinhalese-
dominated Government of Sri Lanka (GoSL), while
also affecting Muslim communities (notably those
evicted from LTTE-controlled territories in 1990).

An estimated 60 000 lives were directly lost to the
conflict until both parties agreed to a cease-fire in
2002. Despite a drastic reduction in the level of hos-
tilities, an estimated 375 000 persons remained dis-
placed by the conflict when the tsunami struck. Six
districts in the north were largely under control of
the LTTE, while another four in the northeast had
significant LTTE presence (see Figures 1b and 2b).
Against a background of civil war and widespread
poverty, the 9.2 submarine earthquake and ensuing
tsunami physically, materially and psychologically
affected about two-thirds of the population in
Aceh. An estimated 167 000 people died (or 4 per
cent of Aceh’s population) and about half a million
people were displaced (BRR and International
Partners 2005; GoI 2005; TEC 2006). Although the
tsunami nearly exclusively affected Aceh and the
neighbouring island of Nias, recently elected Indo-
nesian President Yudhoyono declared the catastrophe
a ‘national disaster’ on the following day, and
called for ‘those who are still fighting to come out
416
Trans Inst Br Geogr
NS 32 411–427 2007

. . . let us use this historic moment
to join and be
united again
’ (Siboro 2004, emphasis added; GoI
2006). The consequences of this ‘national disaster’
for the Acehnese ‘nationalist struggle’ were not
immediately clear, however, as Indonesian military
forces collected the bodies of tsunami victims on
the coast while boasting about the killing of seces-
sionists in the hills (Acehkita 2005).
Figure 1a,b Conflict and post-tsunami population displacement
per district
Sources: 1a: Ramly (2005); 1b: UNHCR (2005)
Figure 2a,b Tsunami dead and missing persons per district
Sources: 2a: Aydan (2005), NAD (2005); 2b: PDMIN (2005)
417

Trans Inst Br Geogr
NS 32 411–427 2007
The tsunami also brought much devastation to
many coastal communities in Sri Lanka, with 39 000
deaths reported (0.2 per cent of the population) and
also about half a million persons displaced (2.8 per
cent of the population). Yet, whereas in Indonesia
the tsunami disproportionately affected the seces-
sionist region and minority group, it affected much
of the country and all communities in Sri Lanka
(see Figures 1 and 2). Spatially, the tsunami almost
exclusively struck Aceh and the Acehnese. In Sri
Lanka, the tsunami affected two-thirds of the
coastal areas in Sri Lanka, including areas ‘pre-
dominantly’ Tamil, Sinhalese or Muslim (see 2001
Sri Lanka census results; Stokke 1998). There was
also greater overlap between conflict-affected areas
and tsunami-affected areas in Sri Lanka than in
Aceh, some of the worst tsunami-struck areas in
northeastern Sri Lanka being also the most severely
affected by prior hostilities. Finally, there were
tsunami-affected areas directly under the control of
the LTTE, while there were none in Aceh (GAM’s
presence being limited to remote interior areas
affected only by the earthquake).
Conflicts evolved differently in Aceh and Sri

Lanka, both before and after the tsunami, despite
some similarities in the immediate aftermath of the
disaster. The conflict in Aceh was largely single-sided
and characterized by government repression and
counter-insurgency, yet taking place in a broader
process of state transformation characterized by
democratization and decentralization. Immediately
after the tsunami, GAM committed to a unilateral
cease-fire to facilitate relief operations, and Yud-
hoyono requested the TNI to ‘restore safety in a
more defensive way’ (GoI 2005). Yet hostilities – and
in particular Indonesian military operations against
GAM – continued until a comprehensive settle-
ment was reached (see Figure 3).
One month after the tsunami, the GoI and GAM
launched official negotiations, following on informal
talks under Vice-President Jusuf Kalla initiated
prior to the tsunami and during which both parties
had already agreed to meet for peace negotiations
facilitated by former Finnish President Martti
Ahtisaari (Aspinall 2005c). GAM dropped its demand
for independence and conceded ‘self-rule’, and
obtained an EU-led monitoring of the transition
process (interviews 37, 62). After GAM and the GoI
officially signed a Memorandum of Understanding
(MoU) on 15 August 2005, the Indonesian House
of Representatives endorsed a new Law on the
Governing of Aceh (LoGA). While armed conflict
has stopped, the number of ‘local’ conflicts, includ-
ing tsunami-related conflicts, demonstrations, as
well as religious and ethnic vigilantism increased,
although the number of conflicts involving violence
remained relatively low and stable (Clark 2006). In
December 2006, regional Acehnese parties (newly

authorized under LoGA) won provincial elections,
with a former GAM member becoming the first
democratically elected governor and promising to
renegotiate unfavourable LoGA clauses.
Figure 3 Battle-related deaths and major events in Aceh and Sri
Lanka6
418
Trans Inst Br Geogr
NS 32 411–427 2007
In Sri Lanka, the 2002 cease-fire agreement had
suspended the ‘mutually hurting stalemate’ of civil
war, but the focus of the peace process was placed
on ‘post-conflict’ reconstruction and development
rather than substantive negotiations over core political
issues (Goodhand and Klem 2005). The immediate
aftermath of the tsunami was characterized by
‘good will’ from the leadership on both sides and
marked by spontaneous local cooperation between
the GoSL and the LTTE forces (Uyangoda 2005a).

Some belligerents even initially perceived the tsu-
nami as a ‘blessing in disguise’,
2
but hostilities
escalated within a year (see Figure 3). The politici-
zation of disaster relief also undermined the pre-
existing, but already collapsing cease-fire agreement
(Stokke 2005). Later negotiations resulted in the crea-
tion of a coordination mechanism ‘independent’
from both the GoI and GAM in the case of Aceh,
while in Sri Lanka international NGOs channelled
much of the aid in the absence of a joint-mechanism
(Stokke 2006), and were later denied access to some
areas due to renewed fighting.
Explaining divergent outcomes in Aceh
and Sri Lanka
Much of the divergence in conflict transformation
between Aceh and Sri Lanka can be explained by
the pre-disaster political and military context and
its implications for disaster relief and peace
negotiations. Indonesia was in the midst of a favourable
process of democratization and decentralization.
The disaster struck Aceh only three months after
Yudhoyono’s victory in Indonesia’s first direct
democratic presidential election, and the new
leadership was committed to end the conflict, if
possible through negotiations. In Sri Lanka, an older
democracy remained in the stranglehold of a unitary

and centralizing constitution, and both the Sinhalese
coalition in power and LTTE frustrated the on-going
peace process. Militarily, GAM was at its weakest
following Martial Law and counterinsurgency. By
the time the tsunami struck, GAM was already
eager for a political exit (ICG 2005; Reid 2006;
interviews 37 and 62). In contrast, the tsunami hit
Sri Lanka after nearly three years of a cease-fire
between the LTTE and the GoSL under the
Norwegian-led Sri Lanka Monitoring Mission
(SLMM), but the peace process had stalled. The
LTTE also had to address increasing dissent,
notably by the ‘Karuna’ faction in the east, and a
return to war was politically expedient. Such
diverging political and military contexts help to
explain different political outcomes in Aceh and Sri
Lanka after the tsunami, but they do not explain if,
and how, the disaster itself possibly transformed
these conflicts. We now seek to do so by using the
framework outlined above.
Governable space: military dimensions
The spatiality of military control in Aceh largely
determined the relative impact of the tsunami on
the belligerents. The effects of the disaster heavily
affected both the GoI security forces and GAM,
but to a different degree and in different ways. TNI
and POLRI were largely stationed in coastal areas
and were more severely affected than GAM forces
located in the hills, with 2698 security personnel
killed against 70 GAM combatants (GoI 2005;
interview 40). A hundred GAM members, among

approximately 2000 jailed at the time, also drowned
while in prison (Merikallio 2005). Yet GAM was
militarily weakened after the death of up to one
quarter of its combatants and many others leaving
the province over the past two years (Reid 2006;
interviews 4 and 62). Moreover, whereas the TNI
could draw on its nation-wide resources, GAM’s
lines and support systems were further undermined
by the disaster, and GAM’s willingness to fight after
the tsunami was also reduced psychologically
(Prasodjo 2005).
Space continued to be ruled through the military
following the tsunami. About 80 per cent of the
TNI were initially redirected to humanitarian and
security tasks, while 20 per cent continued combat
operations against GAM (Laksamana 2005a; inter-
view 4). Yet three weeks after the tsunami only
5 per cent of security forces were still officially
assigned to the ‘humanitarian’ effort, mostly in highly
media-visible Banda Aceh and as humanitarian
military escorts (Davies 2005; Sukma 2006). The
GoI also sent 6173 more troops to Aceh, a move
interpreted by a US security analyst as guarantee-
ing Yudhoyono the ability ‘to clean [GAM] out . . .
if GAM does not agree to settle the problem peace-
fully’ (Roberts 2005). Indonesian military control of
‘humanitarian space’ in Aceh undermined GAM’s
ability to participate in relief, with GoI forces
portraying GAM as a criminal and terrorist organi-
zation in order to undermine its legitimacy, justify
continued counter-insurgency and control move-
ments by relief agencies until the MoU was signed.
GAM repeated its commitment to a cease-fire to
facilitate aid provision, while denouncing repeated

419
Trans Inst Br Geogr
NS 32 411–427 2007
assaults on their units by the TNI. Continued
militarization also constrained GAM to the ‘space
of political negotiation’ and reduced its bargaining
power by further reducing its military leverage.
The discursive impact of this violent territorializa-
tion of ‘humanitarian space’ was more ambivalent,
however, with many aid organizations recognizing
an historical pattern of military propaganda and
coercion – thereby giving GAM greater political
legitimacy for its negotiations with the GoI (Flor
2005; Laksamana 2005b).
While some in the LTTE initially perceived the
tsunami as a ‘blessing in disguise’ that could
consolidate a failing peace process, others in the
GoSL perceived it as a military opportunity, wrongly
assessing that the tsunami significantly weakened

the LTTE (Uyangoda 2005a). To sum up, the tsunami
weakened the military capacity of some of the
belligerents but did not challenge military rule. Yet
whereas GAM and the GoI seized the opportunity
of a political exit negotiated under TNI ‘military
pressure’, the Sri Lankan parties acted opportun-
istically, by seeking to improve their relative
bargaining position by military means.
Governable space: socio-political dimensions
Three major tsunami-related socio-political processes
influenced the evolution of the Acehnese conflict
following the tsunami: the moral imperative of
peace, domestic political transformation and
internationalization of conflict resolution. These three
dimensions, in turn, transformed public discourse
on, and governable space in Aceh. These were
ambivalent processes, however, when considering
that the victimization of the Acehnese as a result of
a ‘natural’ disaster and the recasting of disaster
as a ‘historical opportunity’ obscured questions of
responsibility, impunity and political instrumentalization
for Acehnese suffering.
The tsunami killed ten times more people in
Aceh than three decades of conflict. Compassionate
interpretations of this disaster and acts of solidarity
transformed the Indonesian public discourse on
Aceh from a space of threat and danger into one
of ‘national’ commiseration and solidarity. A year
before the tsunami, 50 per cent of Indonesians
supported ‘some form of military intervention in
Aceh’ (Valentino and Sharma 2003). Following the

tsunami, a military ‘solution’ to the conflict became
widely opposed by Indonesians and Acehnese.
Indonesian television was full of tears and prayers,
under such titles as ‘Indonesia is Weeping’ (
Indonesia
Menangis
), with prominent politicians and business
tycoons opportunistically seizing this shift (see
below).
The widespread interpretation of the tsunami as
a divine act provided another moral dimension
reshaping governable space in Aceh, giving impe-
tus to end the conflict. In the words of an Acehnese
aid worker, ‘as followers of Islam, we believe that
with every event, even more so a calamity, Allah
always gives us a
hikmah
[lesson]; among other
things, this is a way used by Him reminding us to
return to the right path’ (interview 38). According
to Acehnese sociologist Humam Hamid, the second
‘bitterness’ brought upon people in Aceh by the
tsunami might also help to overcome the ‘first
bitterness’ of war, thereby contributing to reconcili-
ation (Prasodjo and Hamid 2005). The implications
of these moral arguments were that military means

and conflict-related grievances had to be left
behind. There remains the risk, however, that the
tsunami adds to the victimization process of the
Acehnese population, creating one more layer of
‘martyrdom’, especially in light of past government
responsibility in their vulnerability.
The second socio-political dimension resulted
from the interplay of Acehnese disaster victims and
a ‘democratizing’ and ‘decentralizing’ Indonesian
political and civil society. Victims in Aceh relied
predominantly on other individuals for help,
receiving minimal support from the government,
NGOs or religious and community organizations
in the first 48 hours, especially when compared to
victims in Sri Lanka and India (Thomas and Rama-
ligan 2005). Unsurprisingly, victims in Aceh were
also the most dissatisfied with relief services in the
immediate aftermath of the tsunami (IOM 2005).
The catastrophic impact of the tsunami on many
infrastructures and administrative organizations
explains in part why many coastal areas in Aceh
were ‘ungovernable’ in the immediate aftermath
of the tsunami. This collapse, however, also reflected
the broader disorganization and competition within
the post-Suharto bureaucracy (Aspinall 2005a),
giving further impetus to demands of governance
reforms in Aceh.
In contrast, Indonesian political leaders benefited
from media reports of their handling of the crisis
– with 83 per cent of Indonesians assessing the
response of the GoI as ‘good’ or ‘very good’ –
thereby contributing to their popularity (IFES
2005). Civil society groups, mostly from religious
or business backgrounds, also (re)developed

420
Trans Inst Br Geogr
NS 32 411–427 2007
expressions of ‘national’ solidarity. Domestically,
the tsunami thus transformed governable space in
Aceh in two main ways. At the local level, the
tsunami exposed the failings of a discredited and
militarized rule by Indonesian authorities, calling
for greater Acehnese autonomy. At the national
level, the tsunami enabled the engagement of a
more diverse and thriving civil and political
society calling for enhanced Indonesian ‘national’
solidarity (Aspinall 2005a). This tension was in part
expressed and addressed through the governable
space negotiated under the MoU: that of a ‘self-ruled’
Aceh firmly remaining within a more ‘democratic’
and ‘decentralized’ Indonesia.
The third major dimension was the international-
ization of the disaster response, which, beyond the

disaster’s scale, resulted from its mediatization and
instrumentalization. The tsunami was a ‘perfect
media event’ reaching international coverage equiva-
lent to ‘9/11’ during its first 45 days (Jones 2005).
Like ‘9/11’, the tsunami dwarfed other disasters in
part because of the large number of ‘white deaths’
(Olds
et al.
2005). Although few reports emphasized
the conflict-related suffering of the Acehnese, inter-
national public sympathy affected the ‘geopolitical’
significance of the conflict and governance in the
province. In turn, the GoI and GAM were put
under greater pressure and scrutiny to achieve a
negotiated end to war and efficiently manage relief
and reconstruction (interview 4). Despite TNI’s
efforts at maintaining its rule over Aceh – in part
due to weariness of an ‘East Timor scenario’ fol-
lowing foreign intervention – the disaster opened
up political space within Aceh. Civil society and
international relief organizations stepped into and
broadened the governable space of ‘civilian rule’
between local populations and (military) rule from
Jakarta (Tjhin 2005; Eye-on-Aceh and Aid Watch
2006; ICG 2006). The creation of an ‘independent’
Rehabilitation and Reconstruction Agency (BRR
–
Badan Rehabilitasi dan Rekonstruksi

) not only
secured more easily foreign assistance, but also
insulated the GoI from conflicts induced by aid
misallocation, mismanagement or fraud (Kuncoro
and Resosudarmo 2006).
International presence was crucial to conflict
transformation in Aceh, notably by providing
GAM a favourable bargaining position and hopes
of agreement implementation that could not be
wasted. Before the agreement on the MoU, there
was little sense that foreigners significantly improved
the security of GAM members, while the Acehnese
feared that continued fighting could lead foreigners
to leave. After the MoU, and in light of previous
failures, many Acehnese feared that once foreigners
departed ‘suffering of the Acehnese will increase
again’ (Vltchek 2006). The presence and intents of
foreigners nevertheless proved controversial, most
notably with critics of opportunistic US and EU
involvement, as well as religious proselytism by
Christian organizations (Prasodjo 2005; Tjhin 2005;
Sukma 2006). Critics denounced the ‘self-interest’
characterizing some of the international solidarity,
notably the ‘opportunistic use of Asian suffering by
US leaders’ (Glassman 2005, 169 – 70). Secretary of
State Colin Powell publicly argued that disaster relief
dries up those pools of dissatisfaction that might give
rise to terrorist activity . . . [and] . . . does give to the
Muslim world . . . an opportunity to see American
generosity, American values in action . . . [so that] . . .
value system of ours will be reinforced [in the region].
(Aljazeera 2005)

This exposure reportedly reduced opposition to the
US and support for Osama bin Laden in Indonesia
(Sukma 2006). The EU also sought to gain visibility
as a ‘world actor’ capable of taking over large
peace-building responsibilities in cooperation with
other regional associations such as the ASEAN
(interview 44). Hence, the disaster not only
reshaped Aceh as a local and national governable
space, it also enabled foreign actors – particularly
the US, EU and IFIs – to more directly consolidate
their governance of the ‘borderlands’, in this case a
petroleum-rich and ‘Muslim’ province strategically
located near the Malacca Straight.
3
Socio-political setting differed between Aceh and
Sri Lanka.
4
Although there was little prospect for a
rapid peaceful settlement of the conflict in Aceh
before the disaster, many expected that conflict in
Sri Lanka would shortly resume (Ganguly 2004).
No progress had been made towards bringing
flexibility to the unitarist Sri Lankan constitution,
thereby making any power-sharing agreement
unconstitutional – including that necessary for aid
allocation (see below) (Uyangoda 2005b). Rather,

political discourses of homeland ‘purity’ and the
necessity of force and a state of exception against
the ethno-religious ‘rogue others’ remained prevalent
in political discourses despite the official cease-fire
(Korf 2006). Moreover, while popular support for
GAM in Aceh had receded after the failure to
obtain a referendum for independence and the
imposition of martial law, support for the LTTE in
421
Trans Inst Br Geogr
NS 32 411–427 2007
the North had remained relatively strong (Human
Rights Watch 1999; Orjuela 2003). On the govern-
ment side, decade-long president Chandrika
Kumaratunga was succeeded in November 2005 by
her former Prime Minister Mahinda Rajapakse, who
took a harder line against the LTTE (Ratnayake 2004).
The political consequences of the tsunami also

diverged significantly. In Aceh, many civil society
organizations focused their activity on political
issues, including human rights, freedom of speech
and organization, as well as self-government, with
the encouragement of foreign agencies and tacit
acceptance of the GoI and GAM. The legal authori-
zation of regional, rather than nation-wide, political
parties in Indonesia also constituted a precedent
that many Indonesian provinces want to emulate,
thereby consolidating demand for decentralization.
In comparison, on-going rights-based work and
political activities were reported as more severely
repressed in Sri Lanka (TEC 2005), and a pattern of
political assassination started in 2006.
At an international level, both Aceh and Sri
Lanka received attention and relatively similar
levels of international assistance (TEC 2006). The
tsunami, however, provided a ‘new’ opportunity
for peace-building in Aceh, especially so for the
European Union, while in Sri Lanka, the involve-
ment of the Norwegian-led peace process was
already approaching its third year, without political
progress. Latter negotiations since the disaster
have all stalled and the EU’s threat of listing the
LTTE as a ‘terrorist’ organization in May 2006
jeopardized the Norwegian-led cease-fire monitor-
ing mission (SLMM) as the LTTE demanded the
withdrawal of all EU monitors and refused further
negotiations in June 2006. The SLMM also contrasted
with the AMM through its numbers and mandate.
Covering a roughly similar area, SLMM’s monitors
numbered 65 compared with a 226 person strong
monitoring force including both EU and ASEAN
officers tasked with a much broader mandate
relating to the MoU implementation and better

adapted to deal with conflict and disaster issues
(Sundberg and Vestergren 2005).
Governable space: socio-economic dimensions
The tsunami had major socio-economic effects on
Aceh. Productive losses were estimated at US$1.2
billion and reconstruction needs (including upgrades)
at about US$7 billion, with assistance pledges
reached $8.8 billion (BRR and International
Partners 2005; Mahdi 2006b). This burden and the
benefits of reconstruction were not equally shared
amongst the Acehnese, with those on northern and
western coastal areas being the most heavily
affected. Balancing tsunami losses and windfalls is
a precarious exercise, with high risks of corruption,
unfair allocations and mismanagement, potentially
aggravating the conflict given its economic dimensions
(Ross 2003; Athukorala and Resosudarmo forthcoming).
More optimistic scenarios hoped that the disaster
would provide the opportunity for ‘rebuilding a
better Aceh’, and improve governance (World
Bank 2005). Overall, the economic dimensions of
the tsunami did contribute to promoting a resolution
of the conflict, notably by offering major business
and political opportunities for the local and some
national elites that rely in part on peace to be
sustained, while reducing (but not ending) TNI’s
lucrative activities (Schulze 2004; Reid 2006).
5

Allegations of fraud and corruption in recon-
struction projects, along with inflation, poverty
and inequalities, are exacerbating grievances and
tensions (Diani 2006; Eye-on-Aceh and Aid Watch
2006). Wealthier and more educated people have
benefited from reconstruction, while many of the
poorest mostly bear induced costs such as inflation
(Oxfam 2005; Athukorala and Resosudarmo
forthcoming). Demonstrations in front of the BRR
office have repeatedly raised these issues and
politically sensitive variations in the geography of
aid allocation have contributed to grievances
(Acehkita 2006). Problems relating to land and
ownership also constitute a major difficulty and
potential source of conflict. In addition, exclusionary
and top-down practices and approaches in the
design and implementation of projects (e.g. hous-
ing) have led to disempowerment, frustration and
anger against implementing agencies and donors
(Eye-on-Aceh and Aid Watch 2006).
As noted above, there was a stronger and more
divisive politicization of aid and disaster mitiga-
tion policies in Sri Lanka than Aceh. Prior to the
tsunami, donors had politicized their assistance by
making it conditional upon progress in the peace
process (Goodhand and Klem 2005; Sriskandarajah
2005). The ‘peace conditionality’ imposed on
US$4.5 billion pledged in June 2003, however, had
failed to influence the political decisions of the
GoSL and the LTTE (Uyangoda 2005b). This
strategy further collapsed as a massive influx of
unconditional aid reached Sri Lanka following the
tsunami, but aid politicization remained. About
70 per cent of the dead or missing (which included

422
Trans Inst Br Geogr
NS 32 411–427 2007
an estimated 7000 Muslims) were located in predo-
minantly Tamil areas, and up to 30 per cent in
areas under LTTE control – a contested figure since
the GoSL was in control of ‘cleared’ coastal strips in
several districts otherwise controlled by the LTTE
such as Batticaloa (PDMIN 2005). Relief and
reconstruction assistance was politicized through
accusations of GoSL discriminating against Tamil
victims of the tsunami. On one side, devastation in
LTTE-controlled areas slowed down relief provision
as the GoSL set up a centralized relief mechanism
and opposed any bypassing of its authority (Uyan-
goda 2005a). On the other, the LTTE requested
more direct control of foreign assistance, and
thereby political recognition. A joint mechanism
agreement to share US$2.5 billion of foreign aid
was reached after six months of delay and its

territorial application restricted to tsunami-affected
areas within a 2-kilometre-wide coastal strip in the
six districts under (partial) LTTE control. The
agreement triggered a major political crisis in
government and was blocked by a defecting coalition
party through Supreme Court suspension on grounds
of partial unconstitutionality (Uyangoda 2005b).
Disaster mitigation and prevention policies also
proved controversial and politicized, most notably
the initial Buffer Zone policy creating ‘exclusion
zones’ of 200 metres from the shoreline in the East
and North (Tamil areas) and 100 metres in the
South (Siriwardhana
et al.
2005). Buffer zones were
perceived as discriminative and punishing mostly
Tamil coastal populations, even though the LTTE
at one point advocated for an even wider buffer
zone (Uyangoda 2005b; Hyndman forthcoming). In
short, spaces of relief and reconstruction in Sri
Lanka were deeply and antagonistically politicized,
both parties fearing that letting the other side terri-
torialize ‘its’ aid would undermine their broader
political struggle. Unlike GAM, LTTE’s pre-tsunami
territorial control gave it the capacity to territorialize
rules of relief provision and reconstruction within
its areas, while the GoSL was able to do so with the
rest of the country and to some extent in its dealings
with the international donor community. It is argu-
ably in response to the failure of territorializing
an alternative ‘sovereign’ and truly ‘humanitarian’

space that the logic of war ultimately prevailed.
Conclusion
The tsunami was an undeniably tragic ‘window
of opportunity’ for conflict transformation in Aceh
and Sri Lanka. This paper confirmed that pre-
disaster political trends were crucial in shaping the
divergent conflict outcomes of this disaster, but it
also pointed at the impacts of the disaster itself and
their spatial dimensions. Rapid and lasting transition
to peace would have been less likely in Aceh
without the tsunami, even if GAM was at its
weakest militarily and both parties were seeking to
end the conflict in a context of democratization and
decentralization (Ellwein 2003; Aspinall 2005b
2005c). Pre-disaster political transformation was
necessary for this transition to occur, but democracy
in Indonesia may not have been already powerful
enough to bring about peace, notably because of
the marginalization of civil society and autonomy
of the army (Mietzner 2006; Tornquist 2006; Abidin
Kusno, pers. com. 2006). In turn, sustained peace in
Aceh will be an indicator of Indonesia’s performance
in its transition to democracy (Prasodjo 2005), and
more research is required to assess the impact of
the tsunami disaster on Indonesian politics. In
contrast, the escalation of political violence in
Sri Lanka was likely, even in the absence of the
tsunami. Nationalist interpretations and calculations
around the tsunami further undermined an already
failing peace process, as the GoSL and LTTE
reasserted ‘exclusive’ sovereignties over contested

territories, thereby accelerating a return to war.
These divergent political outcomes, we suggest,
reflected different representations of the disaster
and the calculations of belligerent parties, as
well as the specific spatialities of the ‘dual
disasters’ of war and tsunami (Roosa 2005;
Hyndman forthcoming).
Although both conflicts in Aceh and Sri Lanka
are secessionist, the geographies of the conflicts
were different. At the time the tsunami struck, the
LTTE, or some of its factions, was in control of
several districts where it ran a
de facto
government.
In contrast, GAM was confined to remote forest
areas and had lost much of the governing capacity
it had gained prior to the imposition of martial law.
The geography of the disaster was also distinct. In
Indonesia the tsunami mostly affected Aceh and the
Acehnese, while in Sri Lanka it affected about two-
thirds of the coastal areas of the country and all
three major ethno-religious communities. In return,
these two characteristics influenced the geography
of aid provision and the dynamics of the conflict.
Whereas the LTTE leveraged this territorial
control to consolidate claims of ‘sovereignty’ over
Tamil Eelam by demanding a direct channelling of

423
Trans Inst Br Geogr
NS 32 411–427 2007
international aid through its administration, GAM
was unable to territorialize aid delivery for such
political advantage. The challenge to Indonesian
sovereignty over Aceh thus remained confined to
political negotiations with GAM, and engagements
with domestic civil society and international relief
organizations. In Sri Lanka, despite an initial
consensus for cooperation at the local level and
between the Sri Lankan President and LTTE, party
politics and nationalist agendas quickly challenged
the exclusive sovereignty of both parties, as well
as the marginalization of the Muslim community.
Both governable space and public discourse
reflected these tensions. In Aceh public discourses
of compassion and solidarity remained dominant
in Acehnese and Indonesian politics, and governable
space was reshaped through ‘civilianized’ and
reformed territorial practices and institutions,
especially after the MoU. The disaster created a

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