Introduction

1Despite an international consensus in favour of increasing the number of Marine Protected Areas (MPA) and enlarging them (Bonnin et al., in press), controversy surrounds their effectiveness and legitimacy, especially in the context of developing countries. This is particularly true in Africa, a continent scarred by varying levels of conflict, ecological crisis, impoverishment and State disengagement (De Santo, 2013). In terms of their ecological effectiveness, questions are repeatedly raised concerning the minimal size, boundaries and configurations of MPA (Agardy et al., 2011). In terms of their economic and social legitimacy, spatial and social justice and amenities for local communities are recurring issues (Potts et al., 2014; Trimble et al., 2014). According to Charles and Wilson (2009), it is possible to identify ten conditions that determine their success: attachment to place; high level of participation; effective governance; co-building of knowledge (scientific vs vernacular or local); the role of rights and customs; consequences of displacement of communities; costs and benefits; the place of the MPA in the larger region.

2On the assumption that the resilience of socio-ecosystems owes less to the management of resources, strictly speaking, than to the governance of the regions, this article will focus on two of the points highlighted by Charles and Wilson, namely effective governance and participation, and the close links between them. What is “good” governance? Is participation by the local population effective? To what extent are the local or indigenous people key players in the governance of MPA? We will study the MPA policies implemented in Senegal. After considering the way concepts and management of the coastal areas and their resources have developed—from the creation of sanctuaries for flagship species to the co-management of MPA—we will explain why we regard Senegal as a pioneer in the adoption of these new paradigms, before analysing the problems and limitations inherent in operationalising these models. Three case studies will be used: the Saint Louis MPA, the Bamboung Community-Managed MPA in the Saloum Delta and the Mangagoulack ICCA (Indigenous and Community Conserved Area) in Casamance.

Towards sustainable and shared governance of MPA: institutional articulations and coordination between stakeholders

New paradigms

4The context has changed since the first marine sanctuaries were created to provide integral protection for emblematic species. New challenges have arisen, particularly in terms of the concept of sustainable development, which entered the media spotlight after the Brundtland report and was formalised at the Rio Earth Summit in 1992. Article 8 (j) of the Convention on Biological Diversity, concerning the problem of in situ conservation, recommends including consideration of “the knowledge, innovations and practices of indigenous and local communities”. This article has been on the agenda of all the Party Conferences since 1996. The reference to traditional ecological knowledge has become an intrinsic part of ecologically correct discussion. It goes without saying that the challenges are immense: “indigenous and local communities” are now seen as the primary beneficiaries of shared advantages. Links have been officially established between local practices, biodiversity conservation and sustainable management, joining the many social science studies which criticised Hardin’s theory and stressed the relevance of community management methods. As well as clear recognition of the right of communities to manage, i.e. to control the resources in their own region as part of a move towards governance, which is replacing co-management strategies (Berkes, 1989; Ostrom, 1990; Agrawal, 2005), cultural diversity is also recognised as a key aspect of biodiversity. Across the world, areas of megabiodiversity are often located in places where poor and marginalised communities live. The survival of these peoples and the maintenance of their practices appear to be essential components of diversity conservation (Posey, 1996). Accordingly, the identity and territorial claims of these minorities include a recognition not only of their cultural and political uniqueness but also of their privileged links with their environment and the associated biodiversity (Cormier-Salem & Roussel, 2002).

5The evolving nature of these issues is clearly visible in the area of international negotiations. Was not the fight against poverty also the leitmotif of the Johannesburg Sustainable Development World Summit in August 2002, ten years after the Rio Earth Summit? Calls for equity and respect for cultural differences have been reiterated loud and clear. We have yet to ensure that these are put into practice.

6With the way now open for the construction of local heritages, a number of practical, political and ethical problems arise. How can we preserve migratory species that do not recognise national borders, such as migratory birds or schools of fish? We need to acknowledge the multitude of local heritages and create a regional network of protection areas and corridors. Recognising that MPA are not islands (Janzen, 1983), all policies endeavour to one degree or another to factor in the ecological and social interdependencies underpinning these regional projects, as well as regional solidarities (Bonnin & Rodary, 2008; Mathevet et al., 2010).

7Although these concepts of solidarity (ecological/social/regional), environmental justice, shared governance, etc. are rapidly gaining ground, changes in standards of public action and particularly the level of acceptance of the MPA by local communities, recognition of local rules and agreements and the actual sharing of the advantages created as a result of biodiversity conservation are all open to question (see Nagoya Protocol; see MEA framework with reaffirmed links between the preservation of ecosystem services and the well-being of the populations; see ecotourism initiatives, promotion of local products, etc.).

8When it comes to natural resources, in West Africa the pendulum has swung between centralised and decentralised, state and community, private, public and participatory management since the 1960s. Newly independent States took over from colonial administrations and reaffirmed ownership of so-called empty or common land. Since the 1980s however, numerous failures and conflicts caused by a lack of public services on the one hand and land tenure insecurity on the other have led to the implementation of new methods of collective action (Blundo, 2002; Dahou, 2010; Lavigne Delville, 2011). Decentralisation and deconcentration policies aim to transfer the management of resources to the local communities, who are considered to have a vested interest in their preservation since they depend on them for their continued existence and are therefore in the best position to ensure compliance with the rules. The co-management of protected areas meets a requirement not merely for economic efficiency (principle of subsidiarity) and political efficiency (primacy of social control over administrative control), but also social justice, restoring the rights of the communities and ensuring that they receive an equal share of the benefits derived from nature. Over and above the consideration of the territorial and identity claims of the local communities, governance, which has gone hand in hand with sustainable development since the 1990s, is a system of institutional articulations, negotiation and conflict resolution (Cormier-Salem, 2007). Participation in governance encompasses various concepts, which often overlap but are nevertheless very different in terms of collective decision processes, ranging from simple consultation to coordination and negotiation (Thouzard, 2006). These methods are implemented at different spatial-temporal levels, mobilise different players, and occur in different stages. These terms often slot together or succeed one another as the process develops. According to Mermet (2012), negotiation is “a decision system in which players who are interdependent but have different interests or views engage in dialogue in order to seek a mutually agreeable solution.” We will examine the operationality of this definition and these new models based on the coastal biodiversity conservation policies in place in Senegal.

A pioneer in MPA governance: Senegal

9In Senegal, as in the rest of the world, the first MPA fulfilled a pressing need to protect so-called heritage animal species included on the IUCN red lists and in several international conventions, such as the 1979 Bonn conventions on the protection of migratory species (avifauna, ichtyofauna and marine mammals) and the habitats that shelter them, mangrove swamps to the fore. The first Senegalese coastal areas (there are no marine areas as such) to be classified, in 1971, were migratory bird habitats. Initially Ramsar sites, they later became a UNESCO Biosphere Reserve (Saloum Delta with Bird Island in Senegal) and National Parks (Barbary Spit and Djoudj in the Senegal River Delta and Madeleine Island off Dakar) (see Figure 1) (Cormier-Salem, 2006a).

10This sanctuary approach, focused on one element of biodiversity, was followed in the 1990s by so-called ecosystemic and regional approaches, “anchored in the local way of life” (Cormier-Salem & Roussel, 2002): in accordance with the Biodiversity Convention, ratified by Senegal, notably Article 8J concerning recognition of the knowledge and traditions of indigenous communities. Given the specific context of West Africa, where 60% of the population live near the coast and fishing and seaside tourism are hugely important, it is recognised that coastal biodiversity must be preserved both with and for local users. The ecoregional approach that developed during the 1990s appears to be the most appropriate way to manage not only migratory species (mullet, sharks, sea turtles), but also the fishermen who migrate at this level. Nor should fishermen any longer be unilaterally regarded as predators or pillagers, but as responsible producers involved in the governance of their region.

Table 1. Overview of the Senegalese Marine Protected Areas network

Protected areas	Surface area	Interest from biodiversity perspective
Somone Nature Reserve of Community Interest (RNICS), created in 1999.	700 ha	Highly diversified avifauna including: spoonbill, pelican, cormorant, egret, curlew, sandpiper, etc.
Palmarin Community Nature Reserve (RCP), created in 2003.	10,430 ha	Reproduction site for sea turtles, striped hyena, jackals, monkeys, very important avifauna.
Bamboung Community-Managed Marine Protected Area, created in 2004.	7,000 ha	Spawning and feeding grounds for ichtyofauna, manatees, dolphins and sea turtles.
Saint Louis Marine Protected Area, created in 2004.	49,600 ha	Sustainable protection and conservation of fisheries.
Cayar Marine Protected Area, created in 2004.	17,100 ha	Protection of sites of special interest for maintaining and renewing fishery stocks in and around the conservation area.
Joal Fadiouth Marine Protected Area, created in 2004.	17,400 ha	Spawning ground and reproduction site for sea turtles.
Abene Marine Protected Area, created in 2004.	11,900 ha	Sustainable protection and conservation of fisheries.

Source: Website of the Ministry of Ecology and Protection of Nature (4 March 2013)

You use the term “Community-Managed” areas? From rhetoric to the reality on the ground

13Although the number of so-called community-managed reserves is steadily growing, what role does civil society play in their governance? How does power sharing work in practice? We will analyse the problems and limitations of the various participation methods based on three MPA in Senegal, chosen according to a north-south divide, from the Senegal Delta (Saint Louis MPA) to the Saloum Delta (Bamboung MPA), then to Casamance (Mangagoulack ICCA) (see Figure 1). Although this article focuses on the internal contradictions of these strategies, we should also highlight on the one hand the avowed desire to promote innovative instruments of collective action and on the other the power games played between stakeholders that happen in all societies and extend beyond the framework of the MPA, revealing equal levels of complicity and conflict.

Saint Louis MPA: an MPA on paper only?

14Created by Presidential decree of November 2004, the Saint Louis MPA, covering a total area of 496 km², is the largest in Senegal and responded to the need to repopulate the seabeds alongside one of the country’s main fishing grounds and to keep foreign trawlers away (see Figure 2). The populations directly affected by this MPA are an homogeneous group despite their different fishing methods. They are all Wolof who live on the island of Guet Ndar, a district of Saint Louis comprised solely of fishing families, known as Guet Ndariens, who have a deep attachment to their community and are bound by strong family ties. We applaud the avowed desire of the Government and its departments to involve the Guet Ndariens in the various stages of the process, from choosing the MPA site to defining the management plans. However, significant challenges and problems specific to this complex region emerged when the initiative was implemented. The first constraint, mentioned by all the stakeholders, was the obvious lack of space (see Figure 3). The Guet Ndar district is located on a narrow sandy spit, the Barbary Spit, which is vulnerable to sea erosion and one of the most densely populated communities in Senegal (160,000 inhabitants per km²). The steady increase in the number of fishermen has led to a high building density (traditionally there are no two-storey houses in this district) and put growing pressure on fish resources against a general background of fish depletion and competition for access both to fishing zones, especially between small-scale fishermen, trawlers and shrimpers, and to landing stages, between fishermen, fish wholesalers and fish processors (Aziz, 2007; surveys carried out by the author, 2009-2014).

15The choice of the MPA site, opposite the Guet Ndar district and directly adjacent to the new River mouth, was contested on both physical and human grounds: the site was rich in shrimp and demersal species, but was dangerous and had become the only route by which canoes could put to sea. The drilling of the “relief canal” on the Barbary Spit in 2003 initially enabled fishermen to unload their catches along the banks of the Senegal River, sheltered from the swells, downstream of the bridge connecting Saint Louis island to Guet Ndar, instead of on the beach along the Atlantic. Subsequently, the strong coastal dynamics, characterised by sea erosion, particularly to the south of the river mouth (two new breaches occurred in September 2012), combined with endlessly shifting sandbanks, made navigation very hazardous and led to frequent canoe accidents (see Figure 4). The coastal and marine areas are steadily contracting, while Senegalese fishermen are denied access to the Mauritanian waters further north.

16A second major constraint concerns the overlap between the territories of the MPA and the Barbary Spit National Park (PNLB) on the one hand and the Senegal River Delta Transborder Reserve (RBDTS) on the other, which have different statuses and powers. The PNLB, created in 1976, originally covering an area of 800 ha and increased to 2,000 ha in 1977, stretches to the southern bank of the Senegal River (see Figure 2). One-fifth of its area (350 ha) overlaps with the MPA. Protection is integral in the PNLB, while in the MPA, usage and access rights vary according to zone, season and fishing gear. In principle, the MPA is the buffer zone for the Park. There is no coordinating body between the two protected areas, and the PNLB warden does not sit on the MPA management committee.

18A third problem concerns the random nature of the MPA boundaries. The rectangle delineated on the official location maps reveals the lack of any bio-ecological or social basis; the northern boundary corresponds to the Senegal-Mauritania land border extending straight into territorial waters. Faced with the impossible task of implementing the limits of the MPA, a single (very small) zone was marked out (not until October 2010) at the mouth of the river, on the southern bank, and thus in the local waters of the PNLB. Four markers were positioned to indicate the limits of the zone considered to be the richest, namely rocky seabeds or kher. This site was chosen based on the knowledge of the old fishermen; consideration of this “traditional” knowledge is highlighted by MPA personnel to underpin their strategy of participatory governance. However, strong tides caused one of the markers to disappear very quickly. Here again, the comments of the fishermen were highly critical: the markers were placed too close to the coast (16-22.5 km) and in a PNLB zone where fishing is permitted, just to the south of the new mouth of the Senegal River, the fishermen’s obligatory route out to sea. This area of sea is also extremely rough.

The Bamboung Community-Managed Marine Protected Area in the Saloum Delta: an exclusive preserve

21The Saloum Delta, site of Bamboung Community-Managed MPA, comprises three sea inlets: Saloum to the north, Diombos in the centre (of which the Bamboung bolong is a tributary) and Bandiala to the south. In order to understand the distinctive nature of this MPA, it is necessary to define its environment as per Charles and Wilson (2009), in other words its socio-spatial characteristics, since this territory is so strongly disputed and its assets are the subject of contradictory claims (Cormier-Salem, 2000, 2006; Dahou & Abdel Wedoud, 2007; Dahou, 2008).

22The first factor to consider is the heterogeneous nature of the rural communities and the diverse range of resource management strategies and practices. Schematically, the islands between Saloum and Diombos, which make up Gandoul, are inhabited by Serer Niominka, very early specialists in navigation and sea fishing. They are (full-time) professional fishermen who travel long distances and stay in fishing stations in the Delta or outside the Delta (in Casamance, Guinea Bissau, etc.) for months or even years at a time. These islands have seen a mass exodus of young people, who were some of the first to attempt the hazardous crossing to Europe by canoe. These migrations have complex repercussions in terms of lineage solidarity and social and economic recomposition (analysis of which exceeds the scope of this chapter, see Dahou, 2008; Cormier-Salem et al., 2010). The islands between Diombos and Bandiala, Betanti and Niombato, are mainly inhabited by Soce, natives of Gabou (consequently close to the Manding) and still largely farmers (Cormier-Salem et al., 2010). The Rural Community of Toubacouta, where Bamboung MPA is located, contains large numbers of foreigners who have settled there over the years. Among them are Jola palm wine growers, Malian and Burkina Faso fish smokers, Lebou fishermen, Wolof traders, French tourist operators, etc.. Unlike Guet Ndar, the community includes a wide variety of “local” stakeholders, of different origins, activities and statuses.

23The second factor to consider is the overlap of protected areas that have different statuses (see Figure 5). The Saloum Delta National Park comprises the Fathala forest and islands and islets partially colonised by mangroves. When it was created in 1976, it covered 76 km². In 1981 the protected area was extended to 180 km² and classified as a Biosphere Reserve based on the UNESCO model, containing three zones (central, peripheral and buffer). The Saloum Delta National Park is the central zone of the Biosphere Reserve of the Saloum Delta (RBDS). The RBDS was added to the list of Ramsar sites in 1984. It covers an area of between 240 and 260 km², the boundaries of the protected land areas being somewhat fluid (Cormier-Salem, 2006). Finally, the Saloum Delta was added to UNESCO’s list of world heritage sites in 2011. This rush towards heritage preservation coincided with an overlap of powers between Government departments, which as in the case of Saint Louis, led to legitimacy conflicts, exacerbated by the amphibian nature of the environment. The 1962 National Domain Act for example transferred ownership of the marine environment and control of fishing activities to the DPN (Cormier-Salem, 2000). This also coincided with the hijacking and monopolisation of public funds for private purposes, as shown by the proliferation of tourist camps and associations, NGOs, management committees, beach committees, etc. and other operators seeking a “green” windfall. Whether one criticises the non-governmentality or under-administration of these MPA (Nguinguiri, 2003) or their “over-government” (Diallo, 2012), the multiplicity and incompatibility of the legal and regulatory references in the RBDS (Dahou & Weigel, 2005) or the hybridisation of the rules of access and use (Diallo, 2012), there can be no doubt that coordination between stakeholders is extremely difficult due to the large number of institutions involved, and the creation of a community-managed integral reserve like Bamboung MPA is a real challenge.

24Created by the same Presidential decree of November 2004 as the Saint Louis MPA, the Bamboung MPA, covering an area of 70 km², led to the closure of the Bamboung bolong, which forms the central integral protection zone of this area. The MPA is bounded to the north by the Diombos sea inlet, and to the south by the Diogaye and Kabaye forests. It was initiated and driven by a Senegalese marine environment protection association, the Oceanium Dakar, as part of the Narou Heuleuk project, and funded by the FFEM. The site, a known spawning and feeding ground for many estuarine species (ichtyofauna, manatees, dolphins, sea turtles), was chosen by a team of biologists who were also put in charge of monitoring it. The MPA was created following a consultation process involving fourteen villages in the Toubacouta Rural Community; from the outset the aim was to promote income-generating activities for these villages by establishing an ecotourist camp, Keur Bamboung, and recruiting and training eco-guards and eco-guides from each village.

26Another issue of a more ethical nature concerns the eco-tourist camp at Keur Bamboung, which is based less on fair tourism than tourism “in” nature. The camp is not self-managed by the villagers. The local economic benefits are limited, most of the few jobs it provides (around twenty in total) being menial positions (cooks, maids, oarsman, excluding the volunteer eco-guides and eco-guards who are paid at the end of the mission), while the estimated population of the fourteen peripheral villages which joined the MPA is 30,000. It is surprising that besides canoe and kayak excursions into the mangrove swamps and nature trails through the bush, the open air activities on offer also include recreational fishing. Tourists are granted rights that are denied to the locals, even to cater for their own fish consumption (Sarr et al., 2009).

27Lastly, the lack of transparency in the management of the MPA and in particular the unequal distribution of the camp profits serve to heighten tensions: following the general meeting held in Toubakouta in December 2013, a steering committee was set up to clarify the status of this MPA; the mandates of the management committee officers were renewed, with broad representation of all the stakeholders. This should facilitate communication between the bodies and make coordination easier.

The Kawawana ICCA in Casamance: NIMBY!

29It was created in 2004 by a decree of the governor of Ziguinchor province after a lengthy process of application for official recognition (the file was submitted four times). The governor attended the plenary session as well as visiting the various regional technical departments (which were permitted to have their say). The decree only came into force after ratification by the Fisheries Department. The regional council order establishing Kawawana made provision for the transfer of skills. However, Kawawana is not co-managed with the State and its departments: it is an independent organisation that carries out surveillance and ensures compliance with bans, but cannot apply sanctions. Some fishermen have received training from the Fisheries Department but are not certified; if they catch offenders red-handed, they have to take action through the officials of the Fisheries department.

30The Kawawana association of fishermen had 135 members in 2004 and 200 in 2011. It is made up entirely of Diola fishermen from the Mangagoulack Rural Community, which includes eight villages (Boutène, Affiniam, Diattok, Tendouck, Boutegol, Mangagoulack, Elana and Bode) and one hamlet (Djilapao). It is headed by Salatou Sambou, president of the community association of Mangagoulack RC, who hails from the village of Mangagoulack.

31Unlike Bamboung, which is more or less enclosed and continuous, Kawawana is not a delineated area, but has been zoned to follow the outline of the bolongs (see Figure 7). Three zones were defined, symbolised by colours (red, orange and yellow). Usage rights subject to varying levels of restrictions and ad hoc sanctions were assigned to each (ranging from warnings through seizure of equipment and produce to fines). The central yellow zone—the Tendouck bolong, an essential transport route between Ziguinchor and the villages of Boulouf—has the fewest restrictions. Fishing with outboard motors, fishing with non-selective or illegal equipment such as monofilament nets, and the gathering of green timber are all banned, while the transport of people and goods (timber, fish, etc.) and the gathering of oysters and deadwood are permitted. In the eastern or orange zone, the many-branched bolongs of the villages are an important farming area for the residents of the RC (timber, oysters, salt, fish). In addition to the practices banned in the yellow zone, it is also forbidden to sell fishing produce outside the villages of the RC. Only residents of the RC are permitted to gather and freely sell oysters and deadwood; foreigners are also permitted to fish subject to obtaining authorisation through a warden who must inform the chief of the village in which the fisherman intends to set up camp. The western or red area corresponds to the Mitij bolong, which is a sacred bolong where activities of any kind are strictly forbidden (see Figure 7).

32With regard to governance, Kawawana has five bodies: the board of Kawawana, the general meeting of the ICCS (at which all categories of the Mangagoulack Rural Community are represented; over 150 people attended the last meeting in June 2011), the Council of the Mangagoulack Rural Community, a Council of Elders and a scientific advisory committee. Decisions are taken by the meeting rather than the president.

33It emerged from our conversations with the association of fishermen and from surveys conducted outside the zone that at present Kawawana is a model worthy of emulation. Besides conserving the mangrove and its resources, it has improved social well-being, to the extent that there are now fewer conflicts between fishermen. Indeed, the rules defined and observed by Kawawana are even respected by fishermen from outside, such as those from the Batine district of Thionk-Essyl who can come and fish in the Tendouck bolong provided they sell their catch to the Mangagoulack RC. Above all, since priority is given to local consumption, fish stocks are more abundant and supplying the population of the Rural Community is less expensive, thus resulting in a better diet for everyone.

34Nevertheless, certain limits to the Kawawana model have been suggested: firstly, the approach is still too sectoral: the management plans only cover fishing and exploitation of the bolongs, rather than the territory as a whole, despite the fact that all the stakeholders are supposed to be involved (traders, farmers, oyster collectors, rice growers). Secondly, not all the stakeholders participating in the governance of the Mangagoulack Rural Community are involved in the Committee, including the people living in the villages outside the bolongs and the Fisheries Department officials. This leads to conflicts of legitimacy between Kawawana and the State departments. Thirdly, the personalisation of Kawawana with its president called into question over its longevity. Lastly, since the ultimate aim is to halt the mass exodus of young people, an age-old phenomenon that has been exacerbated by insecurity and several years of civil war, activities need to be diversified still further. Clear interest has been expressed in processing plants (smoking, drying), on-site marketing to promote local industries, one or more eco-tourist camps and, lastly, saline solar ponds.

35Other Rural Communities (Thionk-Essil, Tiobon, Bandial, Petit Kassa, Tobor, etc.) are interested in adopting a similar approach, but there is a case for questioning whether transferring this model is appropriate, particularly in terms of territorial solidarity. Increased local recognition of territories and heritages could lead to partitioning, land enclosures and a withdrawal into communities. “Non-indigenous” people, ejected from community land, will have no choice but to restrict their fishing to “non-heritage” areas and species, a state of affairs aptly summed up by the widely used term NIMBY (Not In My Back Yard).

Conclusion: between participatory democracy and spatial injustice

36Protected marine areas, regarded by some as fishery management tools, by others as maintenance tools for ecosystem services and by yet others as instruments of regional governance, continue to divide opinion among scientists, managers and decision-makers concerning their appropriateness. This term encompasses notions of effectiveness and legitimacy (ecological, economic and social) and has led to the promotion of “community-managed” MPA in a bid to make them acceptable. In fact, sustainable management of resources or reasonable use of the environment’s natural diversity is less important than local governance and the regulation of social relationships (Weber, 1996). As the three community-managed MPA in Senegal (Saint Louis, Bamboung and Kawawana) demonstrate, the definition of “good” governance is open to question. The strategies implemented in Senegal highlight the diverse methods used to encourage participation by “local” stakeholders (from coordination to negotiation, membership and decision-making) and the trajectories of governance. Apart from the limitations already discussed and specific to each case studied, it is clear that in the end, decision-making remains the prerogative of certain individuals, leaders or “important people” whose legitimacy is based on their knowledge and more importantly, on their religious, economic or sociopolitical power. The heightening of tensions (between groups and categories of stakeholders) and the onset of power games following the emergence of new stakeholders (heritage mediators) and new networks (via NGOs) indicate the problems associated with the transition from State management to local governance and explain the current tendency to return to centralised management and privatisation of resources or enclosure of land. In the context of developing countries (disengagement from the State, impoverishment and rising inequalities, difficult balance between global and local standards, etc.), there is a case for questioning the place of participatory democracy in public policies on regional development. We may well cast a critical eye over the new methods of collective action, but that should not stop us welcoming the innovations (technological, institutional, economic, legal) they bring with them and the mobilisation of stakeholders in new arenas. These factors may indeed reveal or even exacerbate conflicts, but they also enable knowledge to be shared, rules to be redefined and social connections and networks to be reactivated (Beuret & Cadoret, 2010; Ostrom, 2011).