Introduction
Over the last fifteen years the organisation of mining in Burkina Faso has made a shift from dominant state intervention ‐ both on the level of production and the selling of gold ‐ to a sector giving ample room to private companies. In this process of liberalisation, however, the state has not simply ‘rolled back’ (Nugent, 2004) but its tasks have been redefined. Recently, scholars rightly acknowledge that the death of the state has been greatly exaggerated by both critics and proponents of globalisation (Ballard & Banks, 2003:294). In developing countries in particular, the state's role remains pivotal in the resource sector (Ross, 1999:305; MMSD, 2002:66). According to the new mining law, introduced in Burkina Faso in the nineties, the state is the ultimate owner of the land and its mineral resources (Lavigne Delville, 1999). In this capacity it has the monopoly for handing out mining titles, and classifying economic actors in terms of their legal status. Bourdieu (1984) has pointed to the relationship between power and classification. With the notion of ‘field’ he intends to study networks of professional positions and to illuminate how the classification of positions is part of power struggles. So far, anthropologists studying mining in Burkina Faso have ignored this aspect of power relations. Artisanal mining has been studied, but not in relation to the mining laws, the presence of foreign direct investors, and companies with formal concessions. The studies focused on face‐to‐face working relations of artisanal miners and informal economic practices on mining sites (Werthmann, 2000, 2003a, 2003b; Grätz, 2004 and Grätz, 2003 draft).
This article builds upon analyses that show how the distinction between formal and informal is the outcome of power relations, produced in the processes by which the state allots legal titles (Elyachar, 2003). A set of concessions (also called exploration permits as the translation of the French legal term permis d’exploration), are taken as the focus for this article. The set of concessions, situated on the Central Plateau, are studied as a ‘field’, defined as open network of social relations structured around competition over desirable resources (Lamont & Molnar, 2002). The open character of the network has to be stressed, since the actual collaborations and contestations found on the ground, within these concessions, are informed by actors off‐site. Face‐to‐face working arrangements on artisanal mining sites are shaped in relation to wider social arenas connected by indirect media such as the internet (Tsing, 2000, 2004). Adopting Bourdieu's notion of field aims to take into account the open character of networks; a field ends where its effects end (Bourdieu, 1984). Players on site and off site influence mining activities on a tangible concession area. Consequently, I have chosen to discuss mining both with managers in the boardroom and artisanal miners on a mining site. Moreover, the approach motivated me to include on‐line relations in the enquiry. I investigate how concessions are represented in the public domain, who the audiences are that companies address through the Internet, and how the information in the public domain articulates with working practices on the ground. On the internet, international companies operating in Burkina Faso provide extensive information about exploration activities in their concessions, as well as about the presence of artisanal miners. A map taken from the web helps to introduce the case study. All the actors this article will focus on are involved in permit areas shown on Map 1.
In the middle, the map shows two sets of concessions lumped together under the names Kindo Group and Kaya Group. Different companies are involved in these concessions, but our main focus will be on the Canadian junior High River Gold Mines Ltd (identity at the Toronto Stock Exchange: TSX: HRG) and the private Burkinabe Company Société SOMIKA whose director is Adama Kindo. High River hopes to develop their ‘jewel in the crown’, the Bissa Gold Deposit, into their second open‐pit mine in Burkina Faso, whereas Kindo's company is present in the area with exploration permits and authorisations to buy up gold from artisanal miners working in the area (AAM).
In order to study these concessions as a field, two tasks are at hand. First, we need to analyse how the formal mining system works out in shaping relations between international as well as Burkinabe entrepreneurs and local actors involved in artisanal mining in the concessions of our case study. Second, we will have to assess how these relations on the ground are informed by connections to partners and audiences elsewhere. To approach concessions as a ‘field’ helps to analyse varieties and scope of collaborations and articulations. Artisanal miners do not work in isolation, nor does the mere presence of international companies erase artisanal mining practices altogether. The latter has been suggested in Jaques et al. (2006), where he explores how the new mining code is affecting artisanal mining. He points to the fact that the frontline of artisanal mining activities has been on the move over the last twenty‐five years.
The increasing rarity and depletion of known and accessible resources, the dearth of new discoveries, and the freezing of the best areas by mining companies, have, since the late‐1990s, forced many artisanal gold miners to abandon the traditional gold‐producing areas of the Sahel and migrate to new ‘unexplored’ ground in the south. The pioneering front of artisanal gold mining has thus steadily shifted southward by about 50 km per year. This movement has occurred along two main axes, one southwest and another southeast; artisanal miners have gradually ‘colonised’ the entire country (Jaques et al. 2006:116–17).
The search for gold in the region which this article focuses on started relatively early. Prospecting titles of (international) gold mining companies cover the ground almost completely. In Jaques’ analysis this region exemplifies a setting where companies are ‘freezing’ the best areas. However, as we will see, the coverage of the region with concessions does not exclude artisanal mining altogether. Instead it profoundly affects relationships between different types of companies and a broad scope of people involved in artisanal mining. The article analyses how the institutional shifts which are conveniently labelled as ‘economic liberalisation’ work out on the ground. I show how the present permit system articulates with practices of artisanal miners. It is important to note the effects of different permits for the spatial positioning and working arrangements of artisanal miners in Burkina Faso.
After a description of some of the general features of the present mining regulations in Burkina Faso, I scrutinise information posted on the website of the current exploration holder, High River, in particular the history of transfers, strategic alliances with other companies and the spatial outline of the permit. This will then be connected to data obtained during anthropological fieldwork carried out in 2007 in Burkina Faso. In this period I obtained information from the exploration director in West Africa of High River on the company's choices and strategies in dealing with artisanal mining within the permit zone, and I have studied the working arrangements of artisanal miners at different places within the concession of High River, in particular Baskouda (situated a little to the north of Bouly indicated on Map 2 on page 392).
Mining in Burkina Faso
Mining in Burkina Faso increased in importance only in the 1980s, when several dramatic droughts in West Africa triggered artisanal mining. Only the southwestern region of Burkina Faso has a longer history of mining activities (Kiétéga, 1983), but not sufficiently to attract serious colonial interests (Bantenga, 1995). The revolutionary regime of Thomas Sankara, which came to power in a military coup d'état in 1983, targeted mining in order to generate national revenues for Burkina Faso. It restructured the mining sector by positioning the state as sole owner of the land and its resources (Réforme Agraire et Foncière, 1984). Sankara also made a considerable effort to control the gold market. In 1986 the Burkinabé Precious Metals Counter (CBMP) was set up with a monopoly over collecting, processing and marketing precious metals (Gueye, 2001:18–19). In 1987, Sankara was assassinated in another coup d'état which brought Blaise Compaore to power. Since 1992, his regime has moved gradually to a multiparty democracy and is based on liberal economic policies (Otayek, 1992) favouring fewer restrictions on trade and a reduction of tax burdens for entrepreneurs (Ettema & Gielen, 1992).
An initial step toward privatisation was the introduction of the first new mining code in 1993, revised in 1997, along with a new system of mining titles capable of accommodating private players with different capacity and equipment. Mining regulation covers three types of activities: exploration, exploitation and commercialisation. A research permit is awarded to a maximum size of 250 square kilometres, and authorises its holder to explore for minerals. If mineral deposits are found within the research zone, and a feasibility study is positive, the company may apply for a mining permit (permis d'exploitation) (Gueye, 2001; Luning, 2006).
All international companies operating in Burkina are so‐called juniors. Mining companies are defined largely by the way in which they derive their revenues. A senior producer or operator generates its revenues from the production and sale of the commodity it is mining. A junior mining company has no mining operations and is essentially a venture capital company. It must rely almost entirely on the capital markets to finance its exploration activities. When a junior company decides to apply for a mining permit to go into production, they become mid‐tier producers. Several junior companies have expressed their intention to establish an open pit mine: High River has already opened a mine at Taparko‐Bouroum in 2007, Gold Fields (GFI) together with Orezone are seriously investigating options for a mine at Essakane, Etruscan Inc. is building the Youga Gold Mine. However, junior companies may also decide to sell their promising license to a senior production company, such as AngloGold Ashanti, and Barrick. Senior mining companies follow the activities of juniors closely.
Hence, juniors make the output of exploration results available on the web. This information serves both to attract investors money to pursue exploration and to draw attention from bigger companies who may decide to buy up permits as a preparation for exploitation activities in the future.
This article primarily focuses on the relationship between a Canadian junior company, a Burkinabe company and artisanal miners. From the moment of issuing an exploration permit in Burkina Faso, the permit holder is likely to be confronted with artisanal miners. Companies admit, as we will see, that the presence of artisanal miners is considered to be a sign of promising prospects. Junior mining companies then have to choose a strategy for dealing with this presence. Most companies will opt for an arrangement in which security personnel bars access to the most promising areas where the company intends to undertake exploration activities, whilst in other parts of the permit zone artisanal miners are allowed to work, on condition that a Burkinabe company regulates their activity. Most exploration companies allow Burkinabe companies to act in parts of the permit zone as buyers of gold on the basis of an authorisation for artisanal mining (autorisation d'exploitation artisanale, (AAM)). An AAM can only be issued to Burkinabé and the license gives the owner the right to buy gold in a specific area of one square kilometre. The AAM holder has a monopoly on the buying of gold in this area, leaving the actual exploitation to artisanal miners. The AAM holder will put a security service in place to ensure that gold bearing ore is processed in a confined area. An AAM does not allow the holder to export gold, but does not prevent him from having a general licence for buying and exporting gold. General licences for buying gold are not linked to a specific place of exploration or exploitation. On the contrary, license holders have to wait at their shop ‐ mostly in Ouagadougou ‐ until gold is offered to them for sale. It is precisely the spatial distance from the places where gold is actually mined that motivates licensed gold buyers to seek additional AAM; this brings them close to the production source. Every Burkinabe entrepreneur who wants to apply for an AAM needs to check if exploration permits have been issued. Only the Direction Générale des Mines et des Carrières can grant the authorisation, but the holder of an exploration permit has to allow the interested party to go ahead with the application when his permit area is concerned. These are the formal ground‐rules that are at work in the arrangements different players on the ground choose to engage in.
High River in the Public Domain
The present ideology of liberalisation stipulates that the mining sector in Burkina Faso depends on foreign capital and technological knowledge. International companies and investors are explicitly invited to take an interest in mining in this West African country. With data banks, audit reports and websites, the state and junior mining companies are actively courting companies and financial brokers. The state attempts to prove the proper functioning of the mining laws (see e.g. http://www.legiburkina.bf/), as well as demonstrating its capacity to guarantee stability and security in the country. Junior companies, on the other hand, try to attract investors by promising prospects. This explains the overt efforts to inform ‘the public’ on the mining sector in Burkina Faso (Luning, 2006; Tsing, 2000).
The Bissa Hill Deposit is clearly of major importance to High River. It is the jewel in the crown of seven exploration permits regrouped under the name Bissa Hill Permit group, totalling an area of 1009 km.2 High River's webpage describes the history of the companies that have been involved in exploring the area, before High River took over in 2005. In the early nineties, UK based Randgold Resources Ltd. ('Randgold') was the first international company to explore the area. In the mid‐1990s Newmont Overseas Exploration Ltd. and North Ltd optioned the project. In 2001, Delta Gold Ltd. and Randgold entered into a joint venture agreement which led in 2004 to the delineation of the Bissa Hill deposit and the Gougre prospect. In reaction, the Canadian junior Jilbey optioned the project and continued intensive exploration. Further positive exploration results prompted High River, which held a 29 per cent equity interest in Jilbey, to merge with that company in September 2005 (http://www.hrg.ca/s/Bissa.asp, downloaded 29 June 2007). Moreover, the 21 permits in the Kindo and Kaya Groups that are presently owned by Goldrush Resources Ltd. (TSX: GOD) belonged until 2004 to High River (http://www.goldrushresources.ca/saa.htm).
Even though websites may not provide details on the exact nature of the joint ventures and option agreements, the summary shows the complex history of transfers and collaborations prior to the situation in 2007. Since the end of 2005, High River has carried out intense explorations at Bissa Hill, culminating in extensive reporting of research results on the web. High River formulates high hopes and is targeting Bissa for construction of their second open‐pit mine in Burkina. The reports on the web serve to attract investors in order to pursue exploration and perhaps the construction of a mine. It is difficult to estimate whether High River will actually develop a mine at Bissa. Perhaps it may never come to that. Even then, the efforts and reporting on results may yield profits in the future. They enhance the status of the Bissa permit as a promising prospect, and may motivate a major company to buy the permits to set up production activities.
One question I wanted to explore was the extent to which web pages inform the public on connections between Canadian juniors and Burkinabe actors, both private companies and artisanal miners? As we have seen, one group of permits is called Kindo, a common family name in Burkina Faso. Indeed, two of the permits within the Kindo group (Kongoussi 1 and Tikare) are under option from the Burkinabe entrepreneur, Adama Kindo. High River inherited this option agreement with Kindo when it merged with the Jilbey in 2005. Jilbey had agreed to explore the two permits of Kindo with the option to acquire 100 per cent interest. In two instalments, Mr. Kindo has received 60 million CFA, almost 92.000 Euro. Moreover, if prospecting would yield results in the future, Mr. Kindo would retain a three per cent annual royalty from gold production from the properties (SRK, 2006:19). Kindo's option still holds even after the transfers from Jilbey to High River, and from High River to Goldrush.
There are many company reports that mention artisanal miners but one example will suffice here. Goldrush points to the presence of artisanal mining to amplify its high hopes for exploring the two permits on which Kindo has options:
In early 2006 rock sampling conducted over a 1km long east‐west trending artisanal mining site on Goldrush's Kongoussi 1 and Tikare permits yielded significant anomalous gold values over the entire area covered by the historic mining activities. Enduring artisanal mining is an excellent indicator of potential economic gold mineralization as crude artisanal mining techniques are usually productive only with grades in excess of 20 g/t gold. This highly mineralized zone was named the Ronguen Gold Discovery after a tiny nearby village (http://www.goldrushresources.ca/, downloaded 30 April 2008).
The presence of artisanal miners is openly presented as an index for promising gold prospects. The Northern Miner, a Canadian journal for professionals in the mining business, reported a speech which Don Willoughby, CEO of Goldrush, gave in Toronto,’Goldrush follows the artisanal miners in Burkina Faso’, (http:// www.northernminer.com/issues/verify.asp, Vol. 93, No. 51, 11–17 February 2008).
The information taken from the public domain illustrates the complex interrelations between junior companies, between juniors and private Burkinabe companies as well as between companies and artisanal miners. The first thing to note is the long history of transfers of exploration permits. These transfers are part of complex histories of joint ventures and mergers, difficult for outsiders to trace and understand. It raises the question of how people living and mining in the area perceive this string of foreign explorers. Second, we have come across Burkinabe companies with exploration permits who lack the expertise and funds to engage in exploration. How do we interpret the fact that they chose to obtain these permits in the first place? Third, we see junior companies not just tolerating artisanal miners; but clearly using their presence as an index for future prospects. Finally, web‐based information testifies to the complex relations between national and international companies as well as formal and informal actors in the mining sector in Burkina Faso. But how do informants on the ground, employees of companies or informal miners, comment upon these complex interrelations?
Relations on the Ground: High River, Kindo & Artisanal Miners on the Bissa Permit Zone
Artisanal miners have been working in the area, presently covered by High River's Bissa concession since the 1980s. Some miners recounted vividly how strictly artisanal mining had been organised in Sankara's time. In the comparisons made by miners, the rigid organisation of the past was contrasted favourably with the present situation. At least the Sankara period of strict state control provided a clear social situation, whereas the large set of (private) players makes the current situation less transparent. The coming and going of different prospectors and gold buying ‘authorities’ are perceived as random and unregulated: who will come next, what will be the claims and how will they deal with artisanal miners? The way High River approaches artisanal miners working within their concessions differs from time to time and from place to place. This causes feelings of great insecurity among the miners; how long will they be able to continue working in a good location, when and how will they be moved, who will be in charge in a new place where they may be tolerated due to its marginal interest to High River?
In June 2007, a journalist from the Northern Miner was invited to visit High River's sites in Burkina. On the Bissa permit zone High River's chief geologist John Learn took the author to artisanal miners working close to Gougre, a gold prospect recently discovered within the area and shown on Map 2.
The drive from Bissa Hill to Gougre puts the workings of artisanal miners in the area on full display. While the miners aren't allowed to continue working on high‐priority targets, companies will often allow them to mine low‐priority areas. A visit to the artisanal camp shows that relations between the artisanals and High River, as represented by Learn, are open and cordial (Vaccaro, 2007:4).
The journalist portrays High River in a way the company wants to be seen back home: tolerant towards artisanal miners, on condition that they do not infringe upon the central prospecting areas. Early 2007, the exploration director West Africa of High River gave two reasons for trying to accommodate artisanal miners: it is better to try and contain it than to waste energy on failing attempts to prohibit it. Moreover, in line with the information on the web, the director acknowledged that artisanal miners could serve as informal prospectors for the company; their activities are monitored with interest. However, within the Bissa permit group, High River has been very cautious to permit artisanal mining. The artisanal miners that are allowed to work in certain areas should collaborate with a Burkinabe company holding an AAM license and has been careful in selecting which Burkinabe entrepreneurs would be allowed to work as AAM holders within their permit zone. High River has chosen to collaborate with Adama Kindo and his Company SOMIKA Sarl, Societé Minière Kindo Adama. Kindo was allowed to lodge a request to obtain an AAM near the village of Baskouda, where artisanal mining was in a ‘low‐priority area’ for High River which the Ministry of Mines, Quarries and Energy granted. High River prefers the social climate to be calm on artisanal mining sites and price is an important factor in this respect. When an AAM holder tries to lower the price paid for gold, he can expect artisanal miners to try to smuggle ore out of the zone. The number of vigilantes and police present within an AAM area are an indication of the prices paid, and the temptation of transgression. Compared to other AAM holders in Burkina, Kindo's company SOMIKA was paying a relatively good price for gold at the time. In mid January 2007, the time of the fieldwork in Baskouda, world market prices for gold were at $630 per ounce, approximately 17 Euro per gram. At the time, gold buyers at Baskouda paid artisanal miners 8.000 CFA (12.20 EUR) per gram. In turn, these buyers were forced to sell to SOMIKA for 8.500 CFA (12.95 EUR) per gram.
Artisanal mining at the ‘low‐priority’ area of Baskouda did not pose any problems to High River. How does High River deal with artisanal miners working closer to or even at ‘high priority’ areas? At the time of research the Bissa Hill Deposit had already been sealed off for artisanal miners. Villagers of Bissa had obtained jobs to perform surveillance tasks, and signs had been posted to warn artisanal miners off. However, as the visiting journalist of the Northern Miner reported, in 2007 the prospect of Gougre was still the scene of heavy artisanal mining. Map 2 confirms, nevertheless, that High River had every intention of exploring actively at Gougre, even though ‐ or perhaps because ‐ this is also a zone where artisanal mining takes place. In the nineties, the presence of artisanal miners may even have triggered exploration activities. Artisanal miners, in turn, had been following the company's prospecting activities with great care. They freely admitted to estimate carefully in which direction exploration activities were projected in order to tap into these areas.For Gougre, so the director exploration explained, High River would never grant a request to apply for an AAM. This would formalise artisanal mining and make it very difficult to evict the miners at a later stage. Clearly the time for eviction was rapidly approaching when, at the start of 2008, I carried out fieldwork once more. Rumours spread that High River was about to clear out the area, and in anticipation of the eviction, the mining crews worked frantically to take out as much ore from their pits as possible. At the time, it was impossible to find artisanal miners at Gougre who found time to talk to me. In January 2008, High River hired bulldozers to close all the pits of artisanal miners. Even though the artisanal miners were angered ‐ not just for losing the prospects of finding gold, but also because many had wasted their time on useless digging ‐ they did not strongly oppose the violence they had seen coming for a long time. The absence of formal AAM makes artisanal miners highly vulnerable for companies who can, at any time, claim to exercise their formal property rights. The case study shows that artisanal miners depend upon AAM for protection, and this will only be allowed at less promising places within the permit areas. Kindo was allowed to confine the artisanal mining to a place beyond the direct interest of High River, on a site that would not be marked by a very tense and militarised atmosphere.
Organising artisanal mining within the Bissa permit is only one of the possible lines of collaboration between High River and Kindo. Over the years, Kindo has solicited several AAM's in the region, including locations where exploration permits had not at the time been granted; later, Kindo obtained exploration permits in the area. According to the exploration director, Kindo is not interested in undertaking exploration himself, but his exploration permits form an umbrella that protects his artisanal gold mining and gold buying activities in the region. He can now block other Burkinabe from obtaining AAM's in the vicinity of the artisanal mining sites where he is buying the gold. As we have seen, for the actual exploration activities Kindo collaborates with Goldrush. This form of juggling with permits occurs all over Burkina Faso. Burkinabe companies such as Kindo are involved in different types of activities, and collaborate with Canadian juniors such as High River and Goldrush in various forms and for different reasons.
I was given additional information on Kindo's collection of permits by another Burkinabe entrepreneur. When the state started to privatise the mining sector in the mid‐1990s, the regime had to show to multilateral organisations that exploration permits would not just end up in foreign hands; Burkinabe would also have to take part in exploration. Consequently, government officials had been active in placing permits in the hands of specific Burkinabe entrepreneurs, among them Adama Kindo. Kindo had never been active in mining and is not an expert. He is, however, known to have good connections with the Compaore regime. This may have been an important factor in the build‐up of Kindo's mining portfolio. The question of the emergence of Burkinabe entrepreneurs in the mining sector merits more research and for our topic, so does the shifting position of the state in the transition of a state controlled to a liberalised mining sector. Jaques et al. (2006:129) indicated that many Burkinabe entrepreneurs in the mining sector have a history as exploration and mining professionals working for the state until they were made redundant when the gold price dropped in the late 1990s. It is important to study the shift in the mining regime in relation to shifts in professional careers in order to assess continuities in power positions. Previous jobs and present‐day friendships with members of the regime may give rise to strong linkages between the field of politics and economics, strengthening rather than weakening the position of the state.
Perhaps the management of High River had been aware of Kindo's connections. In that case, this knowledge may have been an additional reason for allowing Kindo to apply for an AAM in High River's permit area. For a junior such as High River a good relationship with the regime is extremely valuable. A quote from the Northern Miner underlines the importance of this relationship:
While High River has experienced some hiccups in forging a relationship with the government ‐ mine development was delayed last year for two months when the government held up trucks in the capital of Ouagadougou due to confusion over taxation issues ‐ it also offers benefits to High River (Vaccaro, 2007:1).
High River's strategy in dealing with artisanal miners is influenced by different factors, partly by their wish to cater for audiences back home and to enhance their networks within Burkina Faso itself. Artisanal mining is considered useful, but also potentially harmful to the company's exploration activities. It is followed with interest, but allowed only as long as it does not hinder the Company's prospecting. High River's security personnel presently lock off two areas, the Bissa Hills and Gougre, within the concession. Only in zones where High River does not have prospecting plans, are Burkinabe companies allowed to set up shop with AAMs. What are the working arrangements at such a site?
Organisation of Artisanal Mining on the Site near Baskouda
Before Kindo Adama obtained the AAM, artisanal miners in the 1980s had already been active on the site near the village of Baskouda. However, at the time, this concerned alluvial gold extraction, whereas hard rock mining only took off in the last part of 2006: the hills were tackled with groups of miners digging narrow pits (width approximately 2 by 2 metres) of over thirty metres. From the 1980s the site of Baskouda has known periods of boom alternating with periods when only a few people remained. In the boom times men dominated artisanal mining; in lean periods women remained to re‐work the tailings the men had left behind. Such ups and downs are characteristic of many mining sites in Burkina.
In November 2006, Baskouda attracted hundreds of villagers and miners from elsewhere, after a small group of pioneer artisanal miners found gold. The development caught the attention both of High River and Kindo Adama. They had to react quickly for in the slipstream of miners, the place had already begun to draw the attention of middle‐men working for companies with gold buying licenses. A fast response by permit holders was needed, since a company with an AAM can only hope to get a grip in the early stages of a gold rush. Once a location has many miners and gold buyers it is very difficult to regain control. The reaction of High River and Kindo Adama was swift, and the AAM was in effect from early January 2007 onwards. When I visited the site in mid‐January 2007, the situation seemed relatively quiet and well organised.
The mining site was made up of two distinct zones: high up in the hills groups of men worked to extract gold‐bearing ore from a number of pits. This digging area contrasted with the market/residential zone situated at the foot of the hill, where the ore was taken for processing. The impact of SOMIKA was most strongly felt in this market/residential zone; at the centre of this zone the company set up an area secluded by straw mats for the ore. The processing of all the ore ‐ from pulverisation to selling ‐ had to take place within this area. Hence, the name for this zone, both in French and in the local language, Moore: comptoir. This secluded area allowed SOMIKA to check on the work process of the treatment of ore (pulverisation and washing) and to control the buying up of the extracted gold. At the entrance of the comptoir, vigilantes of a security company, hired by SOMIKA, controlled access. Sometimes these guards searched the body of a person whom they suspected of smuggling gold from the area to the outside. Mainly women were involved in the work of extracting the gold from the ore; men were engaged in buying the gold. The comptoir was divided in different work places for processing of ore: in each, a wooden structure covered by straw mats (a ‘hangar') served as work space for women pulverising the ore, and a sluice would be used to wash the crushed ore. These work places had been set up by female entrepreneurs who owned the hangar, the utensils used by women engaged in pulverisation, the sluice, and the metal containers filled with water to wash the crushed ore. The men who brought their ore paid the women who pulverised it for 500 CFA per tomato tin (a container of about two litres). The pulverised ore would then be washed on the sluice. The owner of the ore appropriated the gold that would be separated (often with the use of mercury) during the washing. The owner of the work place would be entitled to the remains on the sluice. From time to time, women would take parts of this pulverised ore in sacks to a mill and the fine powder would be re‐washed for further extraction of remaining gold. Every owner had to sell his or her ore to one of the individual gold buyers who would sit and wait under a big hangar. Since all gold buyers offered the same price, most of them would try to attract customers by advancing payments. As we will see, provisioning of credits is extremely important on mining sites. At the end of each day, all the gold buyers of the comptoir had to sell the gold they bought to SOMIKA, gold obtained from ore that had been dug up in the hills of Baskouda.
The hill in Baskouda was covered with over one hundred relatively small pits being worked by groups of six to eight men including two diggers. Work would continue at night when it was less hot, and ore needed to be protected from thieves. Artisanal miners in Burkina Faso do not receive wages; until gold is found the diggers will just be fed and looked after (medicines) by a so‐called pit‐owner (bokosoba). Both male and female pit‐owners operated at the site of Baskouda. All these people had committed themselves to feed the group working for them. Expenses may include medical help in case of illness, but the provisioning of medicines referred very often to drugs, both ‘uppers’ and ‘downers’. Only when rich ore started to be extracted, would the pit‐owner be compensated for his or her investments with half of the total ore; the other half of the ore would be divided among the members of the crew. At the start of the digging it is hard to tell how long it may take before tangible spoils can be divided, and how much gold will be obtained in the end. This uncertainty is rewarded once earnings can be divided. Male pit‐owners could take part in the mining activities of the crew, but on this mining site most of them could be seen riding on big motorbikes, transporting the foodstuffs needed for the men who did the actual digging. In Baskouda, pit‐owners were often women: they used earnings from their restaurant in the marketplace, or ‘hangar’ to feed a group of male miners. Some of the gold‐buyers opted to become pit‐owners, others preferred to provide pit‐owners with the financial means to look after their workforce. The credit would assure the gold‐buyer that the pit‐owner would eventually sell his gold to him. The situation in Baskouda showed once more that artisanal mining sites constitute a complex world of debts; some of these would be settled in cash, some of them in ore (Grätz, 2004).
Policing activities occurred both in the area of the comptoir and on the hill where mining occurred. Employees of SOMIKA together with staff of the security firm only seemed to be pre‐occupied with the organisation of the market and residential space ‐ stipulating rules where showering and the washing of clothes were permitted ‐and controlling the area of the comptoir. They saw their main task was to assure that people processing and gold‐buying played by the rules of the AAM holder. Strict controls and bodychecks were part and parcel of their policing practices. Outside of this area, and in particular in the places where the actual mining activities were taking place, the presence of SOMIKA was much less felt. The policing activities on the hill were dependent upon hierarchies among artisanal miners themselves. Some people on this mining site had strong reputations that allowed them to impose their authority on other miners. These people played a role when quarrels among miners of different teams would occur. On the artisanal mining site of Baskouda, artisanal miners carefully followed developments of gold findings in pits of other working groups. As soon as rich ore was found, a fierce competition would arise for the occupation of neighbouring spaces (Luning, 2006, 2008). Moreover, serious quarrels could also arise once neighbouring groups were at work. Groups were supposed to work in vertical lines downward, but the direction of quartz veins could force them to work sideways. A neighbouring group could take offence and object that the group had started taking out ‘their’ ore. Employees of SOMIKA never interfered with these sorts of conflicts. Baskouda had one ‘strong’ person in particular who provided working groups with protection. His capacity to coerce people (he either threatened them with violence or used it) into honesty, or pressurise them into giving up attempts at theft was based on a reputation of fearlessness. He was considered ‘awesome’. Many stories circulated by both artisanal miners and employees of SOMIKA supporting his reputation of fearlessness and invincibility (Luning, 2006 and forthcoming). His reputation allowed him to boast openly about how he transgressed rules that the AAM holder tried to instill. He told me that he had been asked to work for SOMIKA, but had chosen to work independently.
AAM zones are put in place to confine artisanal miners to specific areas where they can have some reassurance that they will not be evicted. This formal acknowledgement, however, has its price; it pins miners down to restricted areas and forces them into a regime of selling their gold to the AAM holder. However, the way the mining site at Baskouda was policed shows once more the permeability of formal and informal positions and relationships.
Conclusions
A set of concessions in the central part of Burkina Faso served as my point of departure and this spatial unit is the product of what is called ‘liberalisation’. The carving out of these concessions is strongly linked to the recent process of opening up the national territory of Burkina Faso for foreign investments. Powerful international arenas have been involved in defining the regime of mining titles, facilitating (international) companies to settle down as explorers in the case study area. We analysed how this set of concessions constitutes a field, in Bourdieu's definition of a system of social positions structured internally in terms of power relations. The notion of field allows us to question rather than presume the nature of power relations. In the study of power relations at work in the mining sector three issues warrant scrutiny and suggest lines for further investigations:
- 1.
The effects of liberalisation on the power position of the state. Broadening the perspective on the state by including its power to classify economic actors in terms of legal and illegal, points to the complex dynamics in the political economy of mining in Burkina Faso. This broader analysis points to strength rather than weakness of the state. This perspective should be supplemented by a line of enquiry into the recent history of local capital. The information on the professional career of Kindo Adama hints at the informal relations crosscutting the fields of state and economic relations. Not only does the state have the power to define what is legal and what is illegal, it also decides who will be given entrepreneurial opportunities. Research into the backgrounds and profiles of present day mining entrepreneurs may show us the overlap in the professional fields, and hence the tangible power relations between state officials and economic entrepreneurs. The data presented in this article indicate that such a scrutiny will show that liberalisation of the mining sector cannot be described simply in terms of a withdrawal of the state.
- 2.
The study of a concession as a field enables us to elaborate upon the complex nature of power relations between different types of miners. The boundary between formal and informal is used to move artisanal miners from promising to marginal places within the concession. Exploration companies can obtain a legal land title, artisanal miners cannot; the latter are merely ‘there’. This law leads to inequality on the ground where companies have concessions and artisanal miners marginal places.
The legal system of mining titles brings about processes of spatial exclusion that are much more complex, dynamic and ambivalent than may sometimes be portrayed (Jaques, et al. 2006). The permit system certainly contributes to the movement of artisanal mining southward, but the processes of lawful exclusion cannot be equated to freezing areas. The concessions themselves are turned into moving frontiers, a terrain of power play between formal and informal miners. We have analysed the social process of artisanal miners being present and permit holders moving in. Characteristic of this process is that companies first seem to see artisanal miners as promise and then as a problem. The presence of artisanal miners may even have motivated the exploration company to move in with an exploration permit since it is considered to be a sign of gold potential. The more reliable this sign turns out to be, the more likely it is that in due course these artisanal miners will be evicted from their place. They will have to move from a ‘high priority’ deposit or prospect to a ‘low priority’ place. Once this has been established artisanal miners may be portrayed as illegal ‘encroachers’, as a group that has to be prevented from moving in (again). The ‘problem’ is subsequently managed by working out spatial arrangements for which the law provides solutions. Again, the power of legal classifications transpires from the definition of the actors involved in the solution. Artisanal miners can never claim legal rights in places, not even in the places where they are tolerated after eviction. For their formal protection in the ‘low priority’ zones, artisanal miners depend upon AAM holders. However, the rights of artisanal miners within an AAM zone are defined in terms of obligations to sell their gold to authorised gold buyers. The AAM zones restrict artisanal miners both in their spatial position and in their choice for selling their gold.
Despite the complexity, this process demonstrates that distinctions between legal and illegal result in enhancing the power of companies and marginalising artisanal miners. However, the findings regarding the artisanal mining site at Baskouda, suggest that the informal processes are also important. Kindo Adama's company at Baskouda depends heavily upon strong personalities among miners for the governing of the artisanal mining site. Policing of miners working on the hill is left to key figures with ‘awesome’ reputations, a quality these strong men underscore by showing disrespect of formal rules. Not only does Kindo depend upon informal power holders, these strong men prove their ability for policing by transgressing formal and informal rules. It is important to ask how these transgressions affect attitudes of artisanal miners towards rules and different power holders? In what ways do they comply with rules and resistance to them and do they associate with power holders or keep them at their distance? The interface between formal and informal is a crucial topic for understanding processes of staging as well as circumventing the rules in power relations.
- 3.
The notion of ‘field’ emphasises the open character of networks. Bourdieu stressed openness by claiming that a ‘field’ ends where its effects end (Bourdieu, 1984). This approach motivated me to include on‐line relations in my enquiry. However, I focused largely on the self‐representation of companies. Interestingly, even this restricted type of web‐info pointed to the ambivalence of power relations. We saw for instance, that junior companies openly admit to see the presence of artisanal miners as an index for promising prospects. Their presence is mentioned to enhance the value of the permit, but it also alerts the audience to the risk of tensions and outright conflicts. Even in attempts to show off the value of permits, the web presence of mining companies open interesting windows on a ‘field’ marked by exclusions, unequal partnerships, and uneasy forms of collaboration and co‐habitation. This invites us to pursue research on the relationships between on‐site mining practices and on‐line representation of these practices beyond ‘keeping up appearances’ (see Tsing, 2000). Presently, mining companies are under pressure to comply with an agenda of corporate responsibility and sustainable development. Websites of NGOs, multilateral institutions and academic networks inform the public on the current situation in the mining sector and the issues that warrant public debates and stricter regulations. It would be important to study how these web sources represent what happens on the ground and how these representations affect power relations in the field of mining.