Ugandan rebel leader Joseph Kony revealed the answer my question from last week, namely by choosing not to reveal himself. Hopes for peace in northern Uganda were dashed over the weekend, as Kony opted to stay put in his remote Congolese jungle hideout, instead of venturing to the Sudanese border to sign a long-anticipated peace deal with the Ugandan government. Despite the buildup, Kony's nonappearance was ultimately unsurprising, as his commitment to the bedraggled peace process was always undermined by his powerful antipathy to the prospect of facing ICC prosecution. Nonetheless, this comes as an unfortunate blow to the people of northern Uganda, many of whom, even including Kony's victims, have even been willing to drop ICC jurisdiction in the interest of peace.

While the Ugandan delegation officially remains committed, and cautiously hopeful about, the stalled peace process, the Ugandan president, Yoweri Museveni, has also branded Kony as "not serious." Museveni is likely engaging in a bit of spin, taking advantage of Kony's defection to play up his own image as the one committed to peace, but there is a good deal of truth in his characterization of the rebel leader. The LRA's own top negotiator, David Matsanga, an admitted opponent of Museveni, resigned out of frustration with Kony's tactics, which he described to Voice of America.

"I have decided that I can no longer tolerate the type of tricks that are involved in the LRA by the leadership. When general Joseph Kony tells me that I want to sign this agreement on this date, and then he doesn't turn up. He doesn't even call me to tell me that he is not going to be in such and such a place, so that I can tell the world and other people not to come."

An even more ominous sign coming out of the LRA camp -- and a fate that Matsanga has thus far avoided -- is the killing of nine rebel leaders in an apparent conflict over whether or not to sign the agreement. The idea of suspending ICC indictments becomes increasingly distasteful when a group -- a listed terrorist organization, mind you -- is willing to kill its own members in a debate over peace.<!--break-->

Though far from the television screens of most Americans, some of the fighting in Ethiopia and Eritrea resembles a war with which they might be familiar. At its peak, hundreds of kilometers of trenches snaked their way around the border region of the two neighboring countries in the Horn of Africa, raising frequent comparisons to World War One. And like World War One, the toll of the trench warfare on conscripts has been exacting. Though no one knows for sure, 70,000 people are estimated to have been killed. There have also been as many as 700,000 displaced or made refugees from the war, which at one point cost these desperately impoverished countries $1 million a day to sustain.

<!--break-->For most of the 20th century, Eritrea, the smaller of the two countries, was a province of Ethiopia. After a long struggle, it gained independence in 1993. But the precise borders were never demarcated. One desolate region in particular, Badme, was a persistent point of contention. In May 1998, Eritrean fighters skirmished with the local Ethiopian-aligned forces there. Ethiopia's response was swift and both countries sent massive numbers of troops and artillery to the border region. Soon, 300,000 soldiers were staring at each other along an 800 kilometer trench line.

In May 2000, then-United States National security advisor Anthony Lake helped oversee international and regional efforts to end the conflict. In June 2000, both sides signed the Algiers Peace Agreement, ceasing hostilities. The Security Council then authorized the deployment of over 4,000 peacekeepers to the newly formed United Nations Mission in Ethiopia and Eritrea (UNMEE) to patrol the border region.

As part of the Algiers agreement, the two sides agreed to let a neutral commission determine the official boundaries. Two years later, the commission, in collaboration with the Permanent Court of Arbitration in the Hague awarded Badme to Eritrea. Other disputed territories went to Ethiopia and the two sides agreed to abide by the verdict. Ethiopia began withdrawing troops from the frontier and UNMEE began to scale back its presence. However, all was not well. In 2004, Ethiopia disputed the boundary ruling and deployed tens of thousands of troops to the border region, including Badme. A frustrated Eritrea expelled UNMEE troops from certain counties and restricted UN helicopter flights. A seemingly intractable stalemate persists to this day.

In May 2006, with its movements restricted, UNMEE was forced to downsize. Today, there are only 1,700 UNMEE troops patrolling the region, and one of their most important tasks is locating and disposing of the estimated 3 million landmines that dot the border region.

The Security Council has threatened both sides with sanctions, but the situation remains volatile. At this point, the main goal of international diplomacy is to force both sides to agree to the terms of the Algiers Agreement, including the border demarcations authorized by the Court of Permanent Arbitration. This is no easy task, but the alternative is an unstable stalemate that could once again flare into brutal warfare.

Ten years ago, I would have sounded crazy should I have predicted that Liberia would become a functioning democracy by 2007, and that Charles Taylor, the Liberian warlord turned president, would be in jail awaiting prosecution for war crimes. And rightly so -- in 1997, Liberia was a singularly dismal place on earth. Taylor had just been elected president after leading a bloody insurgency characterized by the recruitment of child soldiers, wide-spread rape and mutilation. Taylor's popular support, however, was less from admiration than fear. Prior to the election, throngs on the street chanted, "He killed my ma, he killed my pa, I'm going to vote for him!" Better to vote him president than have him lose the election and turn his wrath against the people.

<!--break-->For the previous eight years, the civil war in Liberia had claimed the lives of 150,000 people and displaced 850,000 to neighboring countries. The illegal trade of diamonds and other natural resources abundant in Liberia fueled the civil war, and helped fund Taylor's regime. In 1999 a new round of fighting erupted when a rebel movement backed by Guinea took hold in northern Liberia. In early 2003, separate rebel movement from the south emerged. By the summer, the rebels had gained considerable strength and were threatening Monrovia, Liberia's densely populated capital.

So began a series of events that eventually led to Taylor's ouster. The United States diverted a ship carrying 1,500 marines heading toward the Persian Gulf and stationed it just outside of Monrovia. And just as the Marines were arriving to Liberia's shore, a United Nations war crimes tribunal in Sierra Leone issued an arrest warrant for Taylor, whose forces are alleged to have committed crimes against humanity during the neighboring country's own civil war. Then, on August 1, the Security Council authorized a multinational force for Liberia. With a detachment of marines just off shore -- and Nigerian troops en route to Monrovia -- President Bush joined regional leaders and called for Taylor to leave Liberia. On August 11, following a second suggestion from President Bush that Taylor exit Liberia, he fled to exile in Nigeria.

After terrorizing West Africa for over a decade, Taylor was finally dislodged from power. His successor entered into a peace agreement with the rebels that established a transitional government and paved the way for free elections. By the end of the summer, the Nigerian-led multinational force became an official UN peacekeeping operation to assist in the implementation of the peace agreement and deny spoilers an opportunity to plunge Liberia back into chaos. Years of sanctions left the economy in ruins and rampant corruption meant that state services and infrastructure were virtually non-existent. The newly formed United Nations Assistance Mission in Liberia (UNMIL) provided security guarantees that let the United Nations and other international agencies embark on a series of humanitarian and infrastructure building projects throughout the country.

In 2006, Liberians elected lead Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf, Africa's first female head of state. Soon after winning election (to well deserved international fanfare) Sirleaf formally requested Taylor's extradition from Nigeria to face the war crimes tribunal in Sierra Leone. Today, Taylor is in a jailhouse in The Hague awaiting his trial. Liberia, meanwhile, is steadily moving forward. The 15,000 strong UNMIL (which includes the UN's first all female police unit) is overseeing the disarmament and demobilization of former fighters, and helping UN and international agencies restore basic services to the Liberian people. Key to Liberia's progress is opening its abundant natural resources up to international trade. To that end, in May 2007, the Security Council lifted sanctions on the Liberian diamond trade, which for most of the country's history had been a source of misery, rather than prosperity for the Liberian people.

Despite Liberia's significant accomplishments post-Taylor, the state is still fragile. Over 250,000 people were killed in the conflicts. Considering that the population of Liberia is only slightly over 3 million that is a staggering percentage of the population. State infrastructure remains in ruins and Liberians continue to depend on the United Nations and other international agencies continue to deliver key services. Still, considering Liberia's significant progress from where it was just 10 years ago, it is clear that the country is on a hopeful path.