Necropolitics and Counterinsurgency: The Costs of Population Resettlement in Small Wars
In counterinsurgency warfare, isolating insurgents from civilian populations has long been seen as essential. As Brigadier General S.B. Griffith stated, countering guerrilla warfare relies on location, isolation, and eradication (1989). In practice, this often means forcibly relocating civilians away from insurgent support networks, disrupting community life in the name of security (Bender 1972). But a deeper analysis of these strategies reveals a grim dynamic. By forcibly resettling people and controlling their basic necessities like food, water, shelter, and physical security, states impose a form of power that philosopher Achille Mbembe terms necropolitics (2019). This is a kind of rule where the state exerts dominance not only through direct violence but by controlling the conditions of life and death for entire populations.
Necropolitics explains how resettlement strategies often fail by inadvertently dehumanizing those affected. Forced into “protected villages,” communities often found themselves stripped of autonomy, unable to sustain their livelihoods through traditional means such as farming or trade. Instead, they became reliant on the state for basic necessities, including food, water, and security (Jundian 1974; Hoffman et al. 1991). This dependency reinforced the state’s control but simultaneously dehumanized the affected populations, reducing them to subjects of governance rather than active participants in society. For these populations, life becomes a matter of survival, dictated by the whims of the state, with little regard for personal well-being. By examining failed and semi-successful counterinsurgency (COIN) resettlement strategies in places like Rhodesia, Angola, and Vietnam, we can see how necropolitics shapes not only the experience of those displaced but also the effectiveness of COIN strategies themselves.
The Core of Necropolitics in Counterinsurgency
Necropolitics differs from other forms of state control by focusing on a population’s exposure to death and deprivation. As Mbembe notes, necropolitics is the “ultimate expression of sovereignty” because it allows the state to dictate life’s very terms, especially in contexts of conflict and control (2019). In COIN warfare, this manifests through resettlement programs, which are ostensibly aimed at “protecting” populations but actually control their existence in every sense. By dictating where people live, what resources they can access, and even their degree of social freedom, the state exercises a dehumanizing level of control that sustains a psychological grip over the displaced.
In counterinsurgency, this necropolitical control is rationalized as a way to cut off popular support for the insurgents. Popular support is vital for insurgent success as it provides not only resources and shelter but also a network to gather intelligence and maintain operational mobility.
However, instead of simply isolating insurgents, resettlement often punishes entire communities, putting them in precarious living conditions and deepening grievances that insurgents can exploit. Under this framework, population resettlement becomes a tool for asserting state power, not by building loyalty but by imposing fear, dependency, and social vulnerability on the population, inadvertently stoking civilian resentment.
The Necropolitics of Rhodesian Resettlement: Control and Consequences (1965-1980)
During the Rhodesian Bush War (1965-1980), the Rhodesian government implemented a population resettlement strategy as part of its counterinsurgency campaign against ZANLA and ZIPRA guerrilla forces. This policy, centered around the establishment of “protected villages,” sought to isolate civilians from insurgents by forcibly relocating rural populations. As Weinrich (1977) notes, these villages were intended to sever the logistical and moral support that guerrillas relied upon. However, the forced nature of resettlement, combined with inadequate living conditions and scarce resources found at new village sites, alienated the displaced communities. While the government publicly claimed population resettlement would improve villagers’ safety and quality of life, the reality was one of confinement, surveillance, and insecurity. The relocation effectively stripped villagers from their traditional land and livelihoods, and placed them in tightly controlled spaces that restricted freedom and access to basic needs. Instead of weakening insurgents, these policies fostered resentment and, in many cases, strengthened local support for guerrilla movements.
Wessels (2018) contextualizes these efforts within the broader counterinsurgency framework, emphasizing the disruption to rural livelihoods caused by resettlement. Farmers, often forced to abandon their land, faced economic hardship and psychological distress. This loss of autonomy further deepened grievances against the regime. Moreover, the Rhodesian government’s inability to provide adequate security and resources within resettled areas rendered these villages vulnerable to insurgent influence and attacks. The result was a population increasingly disillusioned with the state and sympathetic to the insurgents’ cause.
Without effective self-defense structures or adequate provisions, the “protected villages” isolated communities not only from insurgents but also from their cultural roots and economic independence. This reduction of the population to a state of controlled vulnerability led to resentment rather than loyalty, increasing support for insurgents. In this sense, the Rhodesian state’s necropolitical control backfired, as displaced populations, having no allegiance to their disinterested state, found common cause with insurgent groups.
White (2011) highlights how these disruptions became rallying points for grassroots mobilization, as nationalist organizations leveraged the suffering of displaced communities to build networks of resistance. Similarly, White (2009) describes how guerrilla forces adapted to resettlement by embedding themselves more deeply within rural populations, utilizing local grievances as a recruitment tool. These dynamics undermined the Rhodesian state’s strategy, transforming resettlement from a tool of control into a catalyst for insurgent support.
Ultimately, the Rhodesian government’s resettlement policies exemplified necropolitical control by rendering entire populations dependent on the state while stripping them of autonomy and agency. The failure to address basic needs or foster loyalty among displaced communities ensured the policy’s counterproductive outcomes, reinforcing insurgent resolve and further destabilizing the region.
Necropolitics of Population Resettlement in Angola and Mozambique (1962-1975)
In 1967, Portuguese colonial forces in Angola and Mozambique implemented population resettlement as a counterinsurgency measure to combat nationalist insurgencies. These programs aimed to isolate civilians from insurgents, control rural populations, and bolster colonial authority. The primary methods included the establishment of aldeamentos (strategic resettlements), reordenamento rural (rural resettlements), and colonatos de soldados (soldier settlements). While these strategies were framed as initiatives to improve security and economic conditions, they often exacerbated local grievances and fueled insurgent support (Bender 1972).
In Angola, resettlement policies achieved mixed outcomes. Bender (1972) highlights limited successes in the northern region, where pre-existing displacement due to conflict, opportunities in the coffee industry, and cultural factors eased the transition for some populations. The availability of employment and a sense of protection offered by strategic villages mitigated dissatisfaction to an extent. However, in the east and south, where populations were uprooted from traditional lands, resettlement caused severe disruptions to socio-economic and cultural structures. Poor planning and insufficient resources left many new villages impoverished, overcrowded, and lacking basic services. The lack of credible commitments from the Portuguese government led to growing resentment, with displaced populations increasingly siding with insurgents such as the Movimento Popular de Libertação de Angola (MPLA) and Frente Nacional de Libertação de Angola (FNLA), the two primary anti-colonial insurgent groups (Bender 1972).
Similarly, in Mozambique, Jundanian (1974) describes the Portuguese aldeamento program as a poorly funded and hastily implemented measure that often failed to meet its stated objectives. Promises of economic development and improved living conditions went unfulfilled, with many villages offering little more than basic water access. Displaced communities, removed from ancestral lands and economic stability, faced overcrowding and deprivation. The aldeamento system failed to win popular allegiance and, in many cases, created a “boomerang effect,” whereby discontented populations shifted their support to insurgents like the anti-colonial group Frente de Libertação de Moçambique (FRELIMO), who capitalized on their grievances (Jundanian 1974).
This pattern underscores the necropolitical nature of these resettlement strategies. By removing populations from their homelands and rendering them dependent on state provisions, the Portuguese sought to exert total control over their lives. However, this dehumanizing approach not only failed to achieve its counterinsurgency goals but also alienated those it intended to subdue. The resettlement programs dismantled traditional social and economic structures, fostering conditions of discontent and resistance. In both Angola and Mozambique, insurgents leveraged these grievances to strengthen their positions, demonstrating how poorly executed population resettlement can undermine state authority and bolster opposition.
In conclusion, the Portuguese resettlement efforts in Angola and Mozambique illustrate the limitations of counterinsurgency strategies that prioritize control over community welfare. The inability to credibly commit to improving living standards and the disruption of traditional structures alienated resettled populations, allowing insurgencies to gain traction. These cases serve as critical examples of how necropolitical strategies can fail, intensifying opposition rather than suppressing it.
Necropolitics of Vietnam’s Strategic Hamlets (1958-1964)
The Strategic Hamlet Program, initiated under South Vietnamese President Ngo Dinh Diem during the Vietnam War represents a necropolitical approach to counterinsurgency, where state power manipulated life and death to control the population. The program aimed to isolate rural villagers from Viet Cong (VC) guerrillas by forcibly relocating them into fortified settlements (Halberstam 1992; Sheehan 1989; Leahy 1990). This strategy sought to sever the VC’s access to recruits, resources, and intelligence while fostering loyalty to the South Vietnamese government. However, the implementation of the program often prioritized control over the welfare of displaced communities, resulting in significant opposition (Markel 2005).
In theory, the strategic hamlets were to provide safety, social services, and economic opportunities to relocated villagers, creating conditions for allegiance to the state. Yet, as the reality was far harsher (Sallah and Weiss 2006). Villagers were frequently forced from ancestral lands, cutting them off from traditional livelihoods and community cohesion. Corruption and extortion plagued the program, with villagers coerced into building the hamlets and purchasing materials at inflated prices (Leahy 1990). Overcrowding, inadequate resources, and squalid living conditions further deepened resentment (Sheehan 1989). This necropolitical strategy reduced rural populations to a state of dependency and dehumanization, fostering widespread discontent rather than compliance.
The Viet Cong capitalized on the grievances engendered by the program, infiltrating strategic hamlets to dismantle fortifications and recruit disillusioned villagers (Bender 1972). This “boomerang effect” highlighted the failure of the program to sever the VC’s connection to rural populations, undermining its primary objective of isolating insurgents.
In contrast, the U.S. Marine Corps Combat Action Program (CAP) demonstrated an alternative to necropolitical resettlement strategies. Rather than forcibly relocating villagers, Marine units lived and worked alongside rural populations in their native environments, building trust and fostering local defense. By training and integrating local militia forces into the counterinsurgency effort, CAP avoided the dislocation and resentment characteristic of the Strategic Hamlet Program. This collaborative approach reinforced community autonomy and resilience, providing a model for counterinsurgency that prioritized engagement over coercion (West, 2000).
Ultimately, the Strategic Hamlet Program failed because it relied on necropolitical control—prioritizing domination and dependency over the well-being of displaced communities. Its disregard for civilian needs and its inability to deliver credible benefits intensified opposition and strengthened insurgent resolve. This case underscores the risks inherent in counterinsurgency strategies that dehumanize populations, demonstrating how such approaches often undermine their intended objectives.
Resettlement Without Dehumanization: The British Model in Malaya (1948-1960)
British resettlement efforts in Malaya represent one of the few effective applications of population resettlement as a counterinsurgency strategy. Developed to combat the Malayan Communist Party (MCP), the plan isolated the MCP from its primary support base—the Chinese squatter population (O’Ballance 1966). By resettling approximately 600,000 people into fortified “New Villages,” the British severed the MCP’s access to vital resources such as food, recruits, and intelligence (Barber 2004). This strategy achieved success by addressing the specific demographics, economic structures, and operational requirements of the Malayan context (Hoffman et al. 1991).
A significant factor in the British success was its focus on a small, distinct, and socially isolated minority population (Markel 2005). The Chinese squatters, largely disconnected from the indigenous Malay population and lacking long-standing ties to the land, were more susceptible to resettlement efforts (Barber 2004). Additionally, their economic reliance on the rubber industry paralleled the relatively successful resettlement programs in Angola’s northern regions, where displaced populations adapted more easily due to prior experiences as plantation laborers (Bender, 1972; Markel, 2005; Barber 2004).
A significant element of the British policy was its dual focus on improving living conditions and using psychological engagement (Hoffman et al 1991). The British established New Villages with essential amenities such as housing, schools, clinics, and utilities, which helped to raise the quality of life for many resettled communities. Additionally, they employed psychological strategies to foster collaboration and build trust, highlighting the government’s commitment to the well-being of those relocated (Barber 2004; O’Ballance 1966). This approach set the plan apart from other resettlement programs that relied heavily on coercion, as it prioritized minimizing upheaval and cultivating allegiance among the population.
Unlike other cases of population resettlement, such as those in Vietnam, Angola, and Mozambique, the British strategy was less rooted in necropolitical control and more in pragmatic governance (Markel 2006) . In Vietnam, Angola, and Mozambique, resettlement programs dehumanized populations by forcibly uprooting them, stripping them of autonomy, and placing them in conditions of dependency and neglect. These programs often prioritized state control over community welfare, fostering resentment and insurgent support as populations endured poor living conditions and broken promises.
In contrast, the British worked to minimize the necropolitical aspects of resettlement by focusing on improving living standards and fostering loyalty. While the relocation of the Chinese squatters was inherently disruptive, the British avoided total dehumanization by addressing basic needs, building infrastructure, and integrating communities into a socio-political framework (Markel 2006). The absence of coercion as a primary tool and the credible commitment to improving the lives of resettled populations helped avoid the “boomerang effect” seen in other cases, where resentment towards the state empowered insurgents.
This comparative success underscores that population resettlement, when implemented with attention to welfare and inclusion, can be an effective counterinsurgency tool, avoiding the destructive consequences typical of necropolitical strategies. By focusing on collaboration and community improvement, the British plan offers a counterpoint to the failures of resettlement programs driven primarily by control and coercion.
Conclusion: The Risks of Necropolitics in COIN Strategy
The history of resettlement programs as an element of counterinsurgency strategy reveals that necropolitics, as a tool for asserting power over life, ultimately undermines the success of counterinsurgency efforts. By reducing displaced populations to subjects of survival, stripped of autonomy and deprived of resources, states practicing necropolitics often increase the very support for insurgents they seek to eliminate. When states rely on resettlement as a means of control without genuine commitment to population welfare, they place entire communities in a state of prolonged insecurity that insurgents can exploit.
Only by recognizing the dangers of necropolitics, in its ability to undermine counterinsurgency efforts, can modern states hope to avoid the failures seen in Rhodesia, Angola, and Vietnam. Successful strategies like the British in Malaya, and the singular success of USMC CAP in Vietnam, offer a model that emphasizes credible support and community autonomy, avoiding the dehumanizing control that breeds insurgent loyalty. Therefore, the application of counterinsurgency principles within complex contemporary operating environments, such as (2003-choice) Iraq, must clearly differentiate effective population relocation and protection strategies from (counterproductive) necropolitics in order to achieve desired security and political outcomes.
According to Markel (2006), population control in Iraq focused on voluntary participation in “gated communities” that provided enhanced security and access to reconstruction aid. These communities aimed to prevent insurgent infiltration and coercion while fostering collaboration with Sunni populations. The strategy leveraged tribal structures and localized governance to build trust and align communities with the government, creating defensible zones that supported the “clear, hold, and build” counterinsurgency framework.
However, the strategy had limitations. Its success depended heavily on local buy-in, which was not guaranteed across all Sunni communities. Urbanization posed logistical challenges, making it difficult to fully isolate insurgents in densely populated cities. Additionally, the emphasis on localized solutions risked fragmenting national unity, as tribal allegiances sometimes undermined broader state-building efforts. Balancing local and national priorities remains crucial to addressing these weaknesses.
In conclusion, the lessons of counterinsurgency resettlement programs underscore the necessity of balancing population control with genuine efforts to foster trust, autonomy, and stability. While strategies like those in Iraq demonstrate the potential for voluntary participation and localized governance to isolate insurgents, they also highlight the risks of fragmenting national unity and over-reliance on tribal structures. Avoiding the pitfalls of necropolitics requires a commitment to the welfare of displaced populations, ensuring that security measures do not devolve into dehumanizing control. Successful COIN strategies should prioritize addressing grievances, and building inclusive institutions to secure lasting peace and resilience against insurgency.
