From lords of war to leaders in society: How former Liberian warlords have used ‘old’ and ‘new’ media to self-reframe

Introduction

Governments, opposition parties, private citizens, non-governmental organizations (NGOs), and corporations―all have a long history of turning to media outlets to shape perceptions of themselves and their actions, as well as to garner support, discredit detractors, and to advocate action. The ability to use media to ‘spin’, or reframe issues for specific purposes is nothing new, but in today’s new media environment, social media allow for a new kind of global engagement: the internet provides a platform for diverse people, groups, and organizations to become producers of specialized content that frames images, ideas, and stories for their particular needs and desires (Gamson and Modigliani, 1987; Nelson et al., 1997). Many have touted the benefits of social media for grassroots political campaigning (Castells, 2007; Williams and Gulati, 2007), coordinating disaster relief (Hicks and Pappas, 2006; Sobel and Leeson, 2007), and even allowing public figures to stay more ‘in touch’ with their supporters and fans (Leighley, 2003; Robertson et al., 2010). There are, however, less straightforward aspects of new media use. One example is the potential of the internet to serve as the stage for rebranding, reframing, and revitalizing reputations. An example of how new media may be used for such purposes is evident in Liberia, a country still recovering from 13 years of civil war, where two former warlords, Prince Yormie Johnson and Joshua Blahyi, have strategically used new and old media to reposition themselves as social, religious, and political leaders. The extreme nature of their actions and crimes during Liberia’s civil war makes their ability to reframe themselves within post-conflict Liberian society all the more impressive. There is a public record of their crimes, yet these men embrace this record and ‘spin’ it to reinforce perceptions of personal reform. This article explores the ways in which Prince Johnson and Joshua Blahyi have engaged with new media and used older media records of their actions to cultivate images of themselves as repentant community leaders who are qualified to take part in, even lead, Liberia’s reconstruction.

The successes of both Johnson and Blahyi are surprising and relatively unusual, demonstrating the possibilities for media use beyond our possible expectations of what might work. Unlike rehabilitated terrorist organizations such as the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO), the African National Congress (ANC), and the Irish Republican Army (IRA), which transformed from terrorist groups into legitimate political actors as the result of a ‘hurting stalemate’ (Zartman, 1995) or negotiations to end a conflict (Fearon, 2004), Prince Johnson and Joshua Blahyi recast themselves as statesmen. They rehabilitated themselves through the use of all forms of media, and often against the wishes and efforts of the Liberian government and the international community. Their ability to circumvent domestic and international recognition sends a powerful message both of the media power wielded by Blahyi and Johnson, and the inability of the Liberian state or the international community to challenge them by offering compelling counter narratives.

One of the more surprising aspects of Blahyi and Johnson’s new media strategies is that they operate in a country where the only electricity available is that provided by generators. There is no telecommunications grid, meaning that most Liberians have limited or no access to internet media (Liberia: Communication Habits by Demographic Groups, nd). Nonetheless, both men capitalize on social networking internet sites. Their online social networking raises questions about the identity of their intended audience and how their reframing of themselves is being communicated to and between different interest groups. Their use of these new media forms globally also augments some of the perceptions they seek to create of themselves within Liberia, which is that they can access, use, and thus provide services that are beyond the capacity of the elected government to provide. The multi-faceted nature of Blahyi and Johnson’s use of media—at once spreading the narrative of their reformed characters and their continued relevance on the Liberian political scene—challenges the power of the national government and hence the state.

Warlordism and terrorism

From Liberia’s founding in 1824, its government was dominated by an American-slave-descended elite, a dominance expressed after 1879 in extended rule by the True Whig Party and in modern history by two powerful presidents, William Tubman (1944–1971) and William Tolbert (1971–1980). In April 1980, Master Sergeant Samuel K Doe, who was not of Liberia’s ruling elite, seized power in a bloody coup, murdering Tolbert and most of his cabinet members and launching Liberia toward a late-20th and early-21st-century history of sustained political violence. Doe won a rigged presidential election in 1985, but his policies, politics, and governing capacity proved no less disturbing and erratic than they had been before assuming the quasi-legitimacy of a quasi-elected presidency. In 1989, a rebel army led by ex-Doe ally Charles Taylor crossed into Liberia from Ivory Coast, seeking to overthrow Doe’s government. Liberia’s First Civil War ensued, propelled in the first instance by Taylor’s ruthless individual will to power, but quickly joined by a multiplicity of competing and shifting interests, including rebel armies sometimes indistinguishable from thuggish bands, the Liberian national army, and irregulars loyal to Doe. All parties were guilty of terrible war-time excesses. All were reliant to a considerable degree on child soldiers. One faction led by Prince Yormie Johnson managed to capture Monrovia in September 1990 and brutally murder Doe, but fighting continued until a ceasefire and disarmament brokered by outside parties took effect in 1996. More than 200,000 Liberians died in the First Civil War, and a million others fled the country.

Charles Taylor won a 1997 presidential election, but peace was fragile because many Liberians questioned the moral suitability and legitimacy of leadership by a brutal former rebel. Dissidents formed militias in the north and across Liberia’s borders in Guinea and Sierra Leone, and war erupted again in 1999. Liberia’s Second Civil War was more regional. The government of Guinea overtly supported the main anti-Taylor militia, Liberians United for Reconciliation and Democracy (LURD), which was also allied in its early years with dissident groups in Sierra Leone. A variety of regular and irregular forces loyal to President Taylor fought back and forth against rebel groups and their allies in Liberia, Guinea, and Sierra Leone from 1999–2003, sometimes expanding Taylor’s effective control into neighboring countries (by 2002, Taylor was effectively leading the rebel opposition to Sierra Leone’s government), sometimes shrinking to the extent that Taylor controlled only a fraction of Liberia. In July 2003, with Monrovia and the government close to falling to the rebels, a ceasefire was declared. The Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS), Nigeria, Ghana, the United States, and the United Nations cooperated to hold the peace and negotiate the Accra Comprehensive Peace Agreement in August. Taylor resigned, and a National Transitional Government was installed in Monrovia, which held titular power until the 2005 elections of a Senate, a House of Representatives, and President Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, whose government, supported by UN peacekeepers, has gradually extended its authority over previously rebel-held territories across the country.

Before their respective post-war transformations, Blahyi and Johnson implemented campaigns of terror, using violence as an integral component of the construction and maintenance of their power base (Crenshaw, 1987; Huband, 1998). During the First Liberian Civil War, from 1989–1996, they both relied on reports of this violence and danger spread by word of mouth and media, granting them domestic and international reputations as terrifying and violent military commanders (Huband, 1998; Levitt, 2005). They employed what Cherif Bassiouni (1981: 1) calls ‘a strategy of violence designed to inspire terror’ to control followers and threaten civilians and opponents. In a largely illiterate society, where access to newspapers and pamphlets, much less electricity and electronic forms of media and visual images, was very limited, verbal accounts of the actions and strength of these warlords were important, enabling their terror to be carried further and to greater effect. Their violence against civilians was brutal and random, and relied heavily on symbolic acts of strength and intimidation, creating auras of mystery and power that fed on fear (Moran, 2006). This article traces Joshua Blahyi and Prince Johnson’s self-led post-war reinvention campaigns, emphasizing their use of both ‘old’ and ‘new’ media forms to self-reframe and thus make new appeals for power and authority.

The general and the prince

Today in post-conflict Liberia the sobriquet ‘General Butt Naked’ still engenders fear and heartbreak, as people remember his campaigns of rape, murder, and ritual cannibalism. Named for his strategy of leading his men into battle naked to terrorize his opponents and provide magical protection for his men, General Butt Naked was equally infamous for killing a young child, eating his heart, and having his men drink the blood before going into battle (Ellis, 2006; Huband, 1998; Moran, 2006). The name and reputation continue to inspire fear but, for his part, the General saw it as a ‘branding opportunity’ (Blahyi, 2010, July) and an image that, when cultivated, gave him considerable notoriety in the local press and international media. Though an international journalist coined the name, the General embraced it and had his lieutenants call him Butt Naked. During the war he would send them as an advance guard into villages, where they announced the imminent arrival of ‘General Butt Naked’. He recognized that the name carried more weight and power than his real name, and instilled terror in his opponents and the populations that stood in his way. Announcing the imminent arrival of General Butt Naked often resulted in the surrender and acquiescence of civilian populations without any struggle. Today, the man formerly known as General Butt Naked goes by his given name, Joshua Milton Blahyi. However, he continues to defend and justify his acceptance of his war name, arguing that, by embracing this media invention, he is able to curtail civilian fatalities and injuries (Blahyi, 2010, August), a particularly frightening notion considering his admission of responsibility for the deaths of more than 20,000 people during the Liberian civil war (Ellis, 2006).

Like General Butt Naked, the name Prince Johnson inspired fear and panic during the Liberian civil war (Huband, 1998). Unlike Butt Naked, however, Prince Johnson’s image, though one that inspired terror, was also cultivated to be political. His use of the media during his reign as a warlord was quite different to Blahyi’s, but similarly effective. Johnson’s past experience in the army, training Special Commandos under then President Doe, enabled him to attract soldiers to his faction, the Independent National Patriotic Front of Liberia (INPFL), giving them considerable military power and equipment and diminishing the military forces of other groups involved in the conflict (Ellis, 1995, 2006). Monrovia became divided into three zones of influence: one under President Doe, one under Charles Taylor, and one under Prince Johnson. Based on interviews and personal accounts, Ellis recounts how daily life was least affected in Johnson’s zone ‘although Johnson himself was given to acts of extreme violence, particularly when he was drunk’ (Ellis, 1995: 167). Johnson’s personal reputation for violence when drunk was widely known and feared as was his reputation for enjoying the practice of torture and other extreme acts of violence, knowledge of which worked to subdue the civilian population in his area of control.

Prince Johnson’s most dramatic act of violence during this time, and his subsequent use of video footage, solidified his position as a leader within the country and a source of terror. On 9 September 1990, Prince Johnson’s men captured President Doe when he ventured outside his Executive Mansion for a meeting with ECOMOG representatives. Doe was seriously wounded during his capture, and over the next 12 hours was filmed as Johnson and his men mutilated, tortured, and eventually killed him (Ellis, 1995; Utas, 2006). The video shows Johnson orchestrating the events, famously ignoring Doe’s pleas for mercy while sitting back in his chair drinking a Budweiser, and pointing out which body part should be cut off next and, in some instances, ingested by both him and his men (Ellis, 2006; Huband, 1998; PajeroTerrorista, 2008). Johnson’s use of video was intentional and calculated; following the event, he reportedly took pleasure in showing this video to visitors to his headquarters (Ellis, 1995), clearly establishing in his mind his credibility as a leader and a person to be reckoned with in the new Liberia. Copies of the tape went on general sale in cities throughout West Africa, and extracts were broadcast on British television news (Schuster, 1994). Today, sale of this video is illegal in Liberia, but it can be easily purchased elsewhere in West Africa (Ellis, 2006; Harris, 1999; Utas, 2006) and excerpts are available on YouTube.

Turning terrorists into statesmen

As the examples of the PLO, ANC, and Sinn Féin/IRA show, it is possible for terrorist organizations to transform into legitimate civil institutions and individual terrorists into statesmen through what Stevenson describes as ‘political grooming’ (Stevenson, 1996–1997). Political grooming becomes necessary and diplomatically pragmatic when domestic and international bodies view courting terrorists as preferable to facing continued violence (Neumann, 2008). How Blahyi and Johnson differ from these other organizations is in their ability to effect this transformation without the political grooming of a state or the international community. Instead, this transformation has been self-actualized through the careful use and manipulation of all forms of media. Even when the Liberian government banned the publication of both Blahyi and Johnson’s autobiographies (Harris, 1999), and the international community restricted their movement across international borders (Adeleke, 1995), they were still able to manage their image and reshape themselves through the use of media forms that government had little ability to control or counter.

Joshua Milton Blahyi: From ‘General Butt Naked’ to ‘Royal Priesthood’

Joshua Blahyi’s self-published and self-distributed autobiography, From Priesthood to Royal Priesthood: A Testimonial Account of a Liberian Brutal War General and Traditional Priest That Dramatically Met Christ and Is Now a Christian Ambassador (2006) begins with excerpts of the media accounts of his time as a warlord, drawing the reader in to his past and establishing his credentials. These accounts, ranging from local Liberian newspaper articles and radio reports to international media, are graphic and seem to revel in the extreme nature of the violence and brutality recounted:

In this war of brutality that shocked Liberia the Butt Naked-brigade where [sic] the most gruesome, famous for using decapitated heads as soccer balls and sacrificed children before every battle for receiving their magical protection. (p. vii)

His battalions were composed of ‘a group of ragtag drugged and drunken teenage soldiers’ (p. v). For General Butt Naked human sacrifice was an essential component for combining his religious beliefs and his actions on the battlefield: ‘Many of Blahyi’s sacrifices were small children, some taken underwater as they played and others simply butchered’ (p. vi).

When asked about these accounts, and how his choices appear to demonstrate a glorification of violence in general and of his own brutality in particular, Blahyi answered that highlighting the truly vicious nature of his crimes demonstrated the ‘power of the devil and the marvelousness [sic] of [his] eventual victory and new position as an ambassador of Christ’ (Blahyi, 2010, July). But it has also served to establish his credibility within a post-conflict community as a leader and as someone capable of doing ‘whatever necessary’ to achieve his aims by reminding people of what he has done in the past. When asked to comment on the dual purpose or usefulness of the media accounts of his actions as a warlord, Blahyi responded that ‘the skills involved in being a successful general, a successful evangelical minister, and a successful leader are not all that different’ and so it is only natural that the media accounts can explain not only his reformation, but also the potential strengths and benefits he can bring as a leader (Blahyi, 2010, August).

Blahyi continuously reengages with and references his past as a warlord and the media record of the same, but he tailors information about himself to suit specific forums. This is evident on Facebook, where he has two separate pages: his own personal Facebook profile, and another as a ‘public figure’. Facebook’s definition of a ‘public figure’ is an individual who is a ‘celebrity, athlete or politician’ (Facebook Public Profiles, 2010). The designation of who is or is not a public figure is self-determined by the individual. The purpose of the public figure page, according to Facebook, is to allow celebrities, athletes and politicians to ‘create an authentic connection with millions of fans and supporters on Facebook by communicating with [their] real voice and participating in the conversations already happening about [them] online’. Blahyi’s public figure page appears sparse, with biographical information provided via a Wikipedia entry (Blahyi Public Figure, 2011) and with only one anonymous ‘fan’. The ‘wall’ entries comprise links to news stories and videos of Blahyi’s work as a minister and of his efforts to rehabilitate some of the former child soldiers who made up the bulk of his army during the war (Turan, 2011a). Beyond the biographical reference to his past as a warlord, he makes no specific reference to it. Instead the profile focuses on Blahyi’s religious beliefs and how the violent actions for which he was known were a reflection of what he refers to as his ‘tribe’s’ religious beliefs, providing some distance between him and his past actions:

At age 11, he claims, he was initiated as a tribal priest and participated in his first human sacrifice. During the course of the three day ritual that followed, Blahyi says that he had a vision in which he was told by the Devil that he would become a great warrior and that he should continue to practice human sacrifice and cannibalism to increase his power. (Blahyi Personal Profile, 2011)

In contrast, Blahyi’s individual Facebook page relegates information—including video—on his past crimes to his Wall, whereas the ‘About Me’ section describes his life since his conversion to Christianity in 1996 and his evangelical work since then. His past life is referenced through his acts of charity, expressing his remorse and the expectation of his indictment for war crimes, but there is no explicit reference to or discussion of his time as a warlord:

Josie [Blahyi’s wife] and I came back [to Liberia] to launch the project with the Street Kids as a sign or remourse [sic] and giving bick [sic] as mush [sic] before my indictment for the War crime court. I testified in front of the Liberian Truth and Reconciliation Commission in 2008, and was waiting for my indicted [sic] for war crimes in June 2009 where I was to stand trial for my part in the conflict. (Blahyi Personal Profile, 2011)

The rest of Blahyi’s Facebook front page presents an image of professionalism and success. As of 23 July 2011, Blahyi had 551 friends, from Liberia and abroad, with this number rising every day (Blahyi Personal Profile, 2011). Under activities and interests, Blahyi lists a number of non-governmental organizations (NGOs)―both domestic, such as Casa Shalom Home for Children and Pillar of Fire Ministries, and international, such as the Peace Corps, and Johns Hopkins Center for Refugee and Disaster Response. These connections with international organizations, charities, and religious organizations give him a measure of institutional credibility. His ever-growing number of Facebook friends and his connections to international NGOs and institutions are a testament to Blahyi’s effective manipulation of social media to reframe and reposition (Blahyi Personal Profile, 2011). Ever aware of cultivating an image for himself, Blahyi has ‘friended’ or ‘become a fan’ of these NGOs, charities, and causes at no cost to him and with no commitment. Facebook allows the user to describe him or herself in whatever terms he or she wishes, an opportunity that Blahyi is using to establish his credibility and increase his visibility without the need for demonstrations, but rather with mere signals, of reformation. A visitor to his page has no indication of Blahyi’s relationship to or with any of the organizations listed, but is encouraged to make the assumption that a formal relationship does indeed exist.

Blahyi presents a different side of himself on his Wall, where he links to media accounts of his time both as a warlord and as an evangelical minister. It includes links, for example, to YouTube videos of his wartime exploits. These videos, such as ‘General Butt Naked Speaks!’ (Kaminari750, 2008) and the four part series ‘General Butt Naked―Joshua Blahyi’ (Afrique3000, 2008), include video clips of Blahyi during battle, killing civilians, sacrificing children and engaging in cannibalism. There is no attempt to minimize or detract from the vicious and extreme nature of the violence and terror employed. Though, in theory, a public record of such extreme violence, so easily accessible through outlets such as YouTube, could serve as a constant reminder to the general population of the danger he has posed (Christodoulaki and Fragopoulou, 2010), Blahyi’s embrace of these images undermines any efforts to use them against him. In a way, his active engagement with his past is not only a way to qualify him for leadership, but also a way to influence how people think about his past and judge him for his crimes; he is repentant, so it becomes incumbent on the viewer or listener to forgive him.

Blahyi’s willingness to talk about his past exploits with extreme candor can also be seen in his numerous interviews for print and visual media, and his involvement with investigative journalistic documentaries and movies. One observer described Blahyi’s testimony before the Liberian Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) as ‘suspiciously histrionic’, saying that he appeared proud of himself and his past actions, and behaved ‘less like a contrite sinner than a hero seeking a national platform’ (Gberie, 2008: 458). The VICE Guide to Liberia (Smith and Capper, 2009), a documentary made by the VICE Company―known for its edgy, unfiltered, and unapologetic pursuit of extreme subjects―followed the Canadian journalist Shane Smith on a trip around Liberia where he encountered staggering poverty, squalor and drug-addiction, with Joshua Blahyi acting as a willing guide. The documentary is a forum for Blahyi to showcase not only his past life, but also to reveal his new life as an evangelical minister and a community leader. Blahyi gives a tour of his training center, where he organizes vocational training along with religious instruction for former child combatants. Questions about the funding for this training center as well as Blahyi’s other works and enterprises are avoided, and he focuses instead on how his training center provides much-needed assistance to local people and fulfills a number of functions that the reconstructed Liberian state is not capable of. Without explicitly saying so, Blahyi frames himself as a reformed man, an alternative to the state, someone able to meet the people’s needs while also possessing the moral, political, and physical strength to ensure it (Smith and Capper, 2009).

Blahyi also participated in an independent documentary movie based on his reformation, The Redemption of General Butt Naked (Strauss and Anastation, 2011). The film debuted at the 2011 Sundance Film Festival, where winning the Excellence in Cinematography Award (Hynes, 2011) ensured international recognition and an international audience for both the documentary and Blahyi himself. The documentary tells the story of Blahyi’s journey from warlord to pastor following his religious conversion, and his ongoing efforts to seek forgiveness from his thousands of victims (The Redemption of General Butt Naked, 2011). The documentary’s use of Blahyi’s personal collection of war-time images of himself in conjunction with his own description of his violent past reflects Blahyi’s personal media strategy, which is to reconstruct his life story. This new life story draws attention to the extreme and compelling nature of his self-transformation, his shape-shifting from a man of terror to a man redeemed. Numerous reviews of the documentary focus on the radically dichotomous nature of the man being presented, and whether the image Blahyi presents of himself on film is real or simply a convenient fiction (Kohn, 2011; Turan, 2011b). This very focus in reviews of the documentary demonstrates the success of Blahyi’s approach, as the focus is not on his crimes or his past, but on the contrast between his past and his present.

In addition to Facebook, YouTube, and documentaries, Blahyi also uses the ‘real-time information network’ Twitter. While Blahyi’s Facebook profile focuses on personal accounts in the media and his role as a religious leader, his tweets (Blahyi, Twitter, nd) focus on his social leadership role, publicizing the failings of the Liberian government and the international community in providing for the recovery of the country. His tweets illustrate how his power and position are such that the state is incapable of ‘muzzling’ him as demonstrated through its inability to prevent the publication and distribution of his autobiography (Blahyi, Twitter, 2007); they also show that he is providing tangible results in reconstruction efforts where the state has not (Blahyi, Twitter, 2008). His tweets, which he believes serve to ‘illuminate the truth’ (Blahyi, 2010, August), challenge the government’s narrative on post- conflict reconstruction, the direction of development plans, and individual leaders.

Blahyi’s use of different forms of media demonstrates his awareness of the different cultures and formats involved in each, and of how to use them in tandem. Thus, his Facebook account focuses on one aspect of his reframing, stressing his religious conversion, while his Twitter account focuses on another, presenting him as a social leader who provides an alternative to the state. Blahyi frames himself differently on different new media platforms, which is probably an attempt to limit the possibility of obvious contradictions in his narrative emerging. His engagement with the international media, and his willingness to be interviewed and to participate in documentaries, widens the scope of his narrative as well as providing him with the opportunity to seek financial support for his social and community work, and to carefully manage his international image.

The prince’s new clothes

Though Senator Prince Yormie Johnson has chosen a more formal political route than Blahyi’s community leadership role, he has also engaged with social networking, and utilizes social media outlets such as Facebook, Twitter, and YouTube to create and cultivate his new image and garner support for his election. Following the forced departure from Liberia of President Charles Taylor in 2003 and the implementation of United Nations security and control along with an interim government, Prince Johnson’s role as a warlord was exchanged for one as a political leader (Dasi, 2007; Gaye, 2010). In the senatorial elections conducted in 2005, Prince Johnson stood for, and won, the Senate seat of Nimba by a landslide (Gaye, 2010). His campaign included extensive use of video, written accounts, and his own speeches (Jarkloh, 2008), all of which reminded voters of his role as leader of an armed group and of his military strength and ability to do whatever is deemed necessary in any given situation. These reminders, including the replaying of the video of Johnson’s and his soldiers’ torture and killing of former President Samuel Doe, were designed to serve as a commitment to the security of the people who voted for him if there should be another war (Jarkloh, 2008).

Johnson’s use of these images is often less enthusiastic and overt than Blahyi’s. Moreover, the image Prince Johnson formulates for himself contrasts with that proffered by Blahyi. Johnson is a political leader, a member of the Liberian Senate. He plays upon his status, while Blahyi trades on his civilian position as a social and religious leader. Johnson chose not to engage with Liberia’s TRC and therefore to admit no guilt for previous actions. Instead, he uses images of his past violence indirectly, without clear endorsement of those actions, thus creating a sense of distance and a level of deniability. Yet, Johnson’s campaign managers and supporters showed the video of Doe’s execution to crowds at political gatherings before Johnson appeared onstage (Sawyer, 2008). Johnson himself is adamant that he is not the one choosing to show the film clip. He also claims to have made peace with the family of the murdered President Doe, which was widely viewed as a step toward making him more eligible for election (Taub, 2008). He has continued to insist, despite the condemning images in the widely circulating Doe torture video, that he did not kill President Doe (Harris, 1999). Indeed, he asserts in his 2003 account of his involvement in Liberia’s civil wars that ‘the notion and indictment that I killed Doe and should be held exclusively responsible is unjust and unfair’ (Johnson, 2003: 88). Johnson seems ambivalent about the video, both using it as a tool to establish his credibility as a leader and his ability to ensure continued peace within Liberia, while also dismissing it as a fraud and not reflective of his true nature, then or now (Gaye, 2010). However, its continued use and presence within his political camp is testament to Johnson’s recognition that it is still relevant for his political goals.

Johnson’s current position within the Senate as the leader of an opposition party shows some similarity to Blahyi. Like Blahyi, Johnson uses the local and international media to call attention to services that he can provide, but the government itself cannot (Sieh, 2011). He also frames himself as an effective alternative to the current political structure (The Informer, 2010). On his campaign website, related blog (Vote for Prince Y. Johnson, nd) and other blogs that he frequently contributes to, Johnson draws attention to articles, videos, and reports that excoriate the sitting government and call attention to his own strengths and abilities. In one blog, Johnson lashed out at the government and the lack of consistency in the application of investigations and criminal charges (Panwhanpen, nd). In response to government statements about his role in the killing of President Doe, Prince Johnson retorted, ‘Why they not start [sic] with those that killed President Tolbert?’ His question is a clever reference to the assassination of Liberia’s previous president, William Tolbert, by then Master Sergeant Samuel Doe in 1980. This blog contribution, along with others such as ‘Wronging rights’ and ‘What can we do positive?’ (nd) challenge the government while emphasizing Prince Johnson’s leadership skills and ability to fill the gaps left by an inadequate government. It was through one such blog/opinion and news site, Liberiawebs (nd), that Prince Johnson announced his intention to run in the upcoming Presidential election scheduled for October 2011 ¹ against the incumbent President Ellen Sirleaf Johnson. In this blog, he included links to his other blog entries and to other posts exposing government problems and his own ‘successes’ in establishing shelters for former child combatants (Sendolo, 2010). There is also an oblique reference to his past as a warlord, describing himself as a ‘strong man’ in Liberia. Again, Johnson uses media accounts of his past life as a warlord in multiple ways: to prove his strength and his ability to transform and use those skills in a new setting.

Conclusion

In their use of and engagement with YouTube videos, independently produced documentaries, blogs, Twitter, and Facebook, these two former warlords embrace their newly chosen roles as public servants and renounce past acts of terrorism. Not only do these media efforts present an alternative framing of these men to a wide audience, but they also provide avenues for additional financial and political support while justifying their past actions. However, they also use them as a way of circumnavigating state controls and restrictions, and challenging the power and authority of the state. Blahyi and Johnson are not only reframing themselves and their positions within Liberian society, but also challenging the state by presenting themselves as strong alternatives: they have the power and ability to achieve what the present Liberian government cannot. They are also, at the same time, managing the ways in which their pasts are used. By putting war-time information and images into the public domain, they are ensuring that political foes cannot use their pasts against them.

Blahyi and Johnson’s engagements with their ‘past lives’ and actions are not just straightforward renouncements, but instead perform a number of different functions. Referencing and using ‘old’ media accounts of their lives as warlords establishes their credibility. These stories highlight the dramatic and extreme nature of their transformation; they demonstrate how their transformation and rehabilitation outstrip all other such stories in a country full of them, and show Blahyi and Johnson’s ability to lead people, direct plans, orchestrate strategies, and position themselves as all-powerful ‘big men’ (Chabal, 2002). At the same time, whilst getting to highlight their past evil deeds involving and necessitating extreme violence, Blahyi and Johnson’s underlying message is that their deeds and actions could be resumed in a country newly post-war, where instability is the norm and, in the event of a resumption of conflict, they can protect their supporters and followers should it prove necessary. The dialogue and narrative that go with these old media images and accounts speak to rehabilitation and a new form of leadership, leaving the past behind. The images themselves are in sharp contrast with this narrative, however (Kensicki, 2004). In fact, they present an alternative narrative, highlighting the ability of Blahyi and Johnson to use and harness violence for their goals, to vanquish their enemies and promote their friends. They chose to leave that old life behind and adopt a new one; they were not forced out or defeated. They made choices, adding to their credibility and the picture of their strength, while also making clear that they can also reverse those choices, and resume their roles as warlords if necessary.