Kentaro Fujikawa, “Ultimate Concessions? Why States Agree to Independence Referendums After Long Wars” (Geopolitics, 2025) examines a rare and paradoxical political decision: why do governments that have fiercely opposed secessionist movements sometimes consent to hold independence referendums, potentially leading to the very outcomes they fought to avoid?
Through detailed qualitative case studies of Western Sahara, Eritrea, East Timor, Bougainville, and South Sudan, Fujikawa advances a novel explanatory framework centred on two analytic pillars: motivations and justifications. Governments must first be motivated to reach a peace agreement, whether due to war-weariness, international pressure, or strategic alliance formation. But motivation alone is insufficient. They must also develop justifications- narratives or rationales that render the loss of territory palatable, such as viewing the territory as peripheral or embracing normative commitments to democracy and self-determination.
Fujikawa also takes a different methodological path. Instead of using broad statistical models, he chooses a tightly focused comparison that highlights equifinality—the idea that different causes can lead to the same result. Eritrea’s independence, for instance, followed a rebel victory and a shared ideological vision with Ethiopia’s new leadership. Bougainville, on the other hand, was granted a referendum that the central government believed could be safely disregarded. In East Timor and South Sudan, decisions were shaped more by concerns about international reputation and foreign pressure.
One of Fujikawa’s key insights is that these “ultimate concessions” often carry more ambiguity than they seem to. Many governments agree to referendums expecting that secession won’t happen. They hope to manage or delay the process, or to influence the outcome. These votes are not always sincere steps toward resolution—they often function more as extensions of the conflict, pursued through political or legal means instead of military ones.
In his carefully reasoned analysis, Fujikawa explains how such unexpected reversals come about. He pushes back against the idea that these referendums are signs of moral growth or democratic maturity. Instead, he sees them as strategic and often reluctant choices. Rather than treating them as unusual exceptions, he shows how these decisions arise from the same political systems and structures that once firmly resisted them.
At the centre of his argument is a two-part logic. First, states agree to talks with secessionist groups when fighting becomes too costly, when they want to improve how they are seen internationally, or when alliances with rebels serve other political goals. Second, they justify the risk of losing territory by telling themselves the region is not essential, by appealing to democratic norms, or by believing that the vote will not lead to actual independence.
Each case shows a different mix of these reasons. Morocco allowed a UN-supported referendum in Western Sahara in 1988, mainly to ease global pressure, while quietly planning to influence the outcome through administrative and demographic means. Eritrea’s case was different, Ethiopia’s new government shared deep ideological ties with the Eritrean rebels and genuinely supported the referendum.
Other examples were less straightforward. After the fall of Suharto and a deep economic crisis, Indonesia saw East Timor, culturally distinct and politically costly, as a burden it could let go. Papua New Guinea, worn down by years of conflict, allowed a non-binding vote in Bougainville with the hope of limiting its long-term effects. In Sudan, the government in Khartoum faced intense U.S. pressure after 9/11 and agreed to a delayed referendum in South Sudan, believing that the six-year wait might allow time to prevent secession.
A major takeaway from Fujikawa’s article is that referendums are often used as political tools rather than sincere democratic instruments. They are presented as compromises, but they are designed to protect state interests. Governments rarely act with one clear voice—rather, officials calculate, adapt, and frame these moves in ways that appear flexible but are often meant to control separatist claims. Fujikawa’s observation that referendums can be “war by other means” is central to understanding their use.
By examining how governments combine exhaustion with political justification, Fujikawa challenges the popular idea that these votes are acts of principle. Instead, he shows how they are shaped by messy political trade-offs and selective risk-taking. His work deepens our understanding of how states manage deep internal crises—not only through power and law, but through image-building, narrative shifts, and strategic timing.
This also raises larger questions. If peace processes that rely on referendums are often insincere or heavily managed, what does that imply for international frameworks that treat them as final, democratic acts? What happens when the promise of letting people decide is quietly steered by leaders who expect a specific outcome—or none at all?
Fujikawa doesn’t offer simple solutions. But by exploring the rare moments when governments give up territory they once fought hard to hold, he sheds light on how fragile and complicated modern ideas of sovereignty really are. In a world where struggles over independence remain unresolved, from Catalonia to Kashmir, Palestine to Papua, this article offers a clear and timely way to understand how states make decisions, change course, and sometimes back down.
