From peacekeeping to "peace operations"

Metta Spencer

Peacekeeping has changed a lotsince 1956, when Lester B Pearson--then Canadian ForeignMinister--proposed that the UN send an international force to the Sinaidesert to prevent fighting.
The Canadian government establishedthe Pearson Peacekeeping Centre (PPC) in 1994. Its Peace Operations SummerInstitute (POSI), which I attended, offers an overview of the whole array of peaceoperations, and while I was there several other courses were underway on such top-ics as humanitarianism and "DDR"-- Disarmament, Demobilisation, and Re-integration, the processes following the establishment of a peace agreement whenweapons are collected and destroyed and soldiers are mustered out and assisted toreturn to regular society.
The POSI students were a varied group:two women policy advisers from Foreign Affairs Canada; four female graduate stu-dents; one woman from Ethiopia who does conflict resolution work for a Germanorganisation; a Canadian military officer with experience as a peacekeeper in SierraLeone; and five military officers from Latin American and Caribbean countries,one of whom had served as a peacekeeper in East Timor. A guest lecturer, who par-ticipated throughout the course, was a woman from India who studies the trafficin small arms and drugs.

Four generations

Early in the course we became familiar with a bell-shaped graph showing thephases when different types of interventions are appropriate to restore peace.During the early stages, as conflicts are becoming increasingly evident, preventivemeasures can be employed to reduce the odds of armed struggle. When actualwarfare erupts and continues, the only possible interventions are attempts at con-flict mitigation. Eventually, however, some type of conflict resolution processes occur,resulting in ceasefires and peace agreements. Occasionally, peace enforcement bymilitary units is required to prevent a resumption of fighting. Finally, anotherkind of intervention is required--post-conflict peacebuilding.
    All of these types of intervention can be called "peace operations", but not allof them are peacekeeping. One of POSI's main instructors, Walter Dorn, distin-guishes four "generations" of peace operations. During the initial generation, allUN peacekeepers were military personnel invited by the conflict parties to monitor aceasefire and observe during the negotiation of a political settlement. Only in1956 did the second generation begin, when peacekeepers were interposed as abuffer between opposing troops to prevent impending warfare in the Suez crisis.
    A third generation of peace operationshas involved a great expansion of activities, often involving non-military person-nel. These multi-dimensional operations include political, military, humanitarian,police, economic, social, reconstruction, and judicial activities. They may be car-ried out by regional organisations (eg the African Union and NATO); NGO moni-tors (eg Amnesty International and the International Crisis Group); army engi-neers (who rebuild bridges and water systems); UN agronomists (who restore localfood production); election monitors; and civilian police seconded from their home-town constabularies.
    The widening of peace operationsoccurred after the Cold War ended and civil wars increased, requiring that under-lying root causes of disputes be addressed. Unfortunately, such peace operations stillare far more often undertaken after a war than beforehand, when they would bemore likely to succeed.
    Finally, Dorn sees the emergence of a fourth generation of peace operations,whereby the United Nations becomes the authority that actually governs during atransitional period until a new, democratic state can be established. East Timor isan example.

Behave like grown ups

Under Chapter Six of the UN Charter, sovereign countries are expected to settletheir disputes voluntarily through such means as mediation. Peace operationsshould therefore take place only with the consent of government. Sometimes peace-keepers have had to leave because the government ordered them out.
However, under the terms of Chapter Seven of the Charter, if the Security Coun-cil determines that a threat to peace or actual aggression exists, it may, againstthe wishes of that State, send troops with a war-fighting mandate. This was the cir-cumstance, for example, under which the Korean War took place, and in recentyears other war-fighting operations have been authorised--either under the com-mand of UN forces or some coalition of states. Not all such interventions areachieved. (Rwanda and Somalia are instances of failure.) Security Councilmembers often disagree on whether to authorise such actions. Still, fewer Chap-ter Six and more Chapter Seven mandates are being issued over the years.

Dilemmas of the dedicated

The longer I stayed at the PPC, the more apparent became the dilemmas that con-front the dedicated people who serve in these projects. Such tensions were airedmore often outside the classroom than during lectures.
    One problem that humanitarian workers mentioned repeatedly was the factthat their effectiveness and even their lives are being compromised by havingthe lines blurred between military activities and the provision of aid.
    Two decades ago, humanitarian workers were never targeted by either side in awar, for everyone realised that they were independent, neutral, and willing to helpthose on both sides who needed relief such as medical attention, food, blankets,water, or shelter.
    Today, more and more, humanitarianworkers are seen as agents working for a particular state or army. This blurring ofroles has resulted largely from the attempts by military officers to manageand "coordinate" the activities of NGO personnel in their areas of operation.
    For example, an officer may insist on sending armed soldiers to escort supplytrucks and paramedic teams, against their wishes. Or, even worse, soldiers may besent out to distribute potable water and groceries to random households as a wayof winning over the "hearts and minds" of the local populace. If, on the followingday, a CARE worker and a Me'decins Sans Frontie`res physician show up, they maybe shot because people will suppose they are part of the same military unit. Indeed,while POSI was going on, five staff members of Me'decins Sans Frontie`res weremurdered in Afghanistan--the kind of tragedy that has come to be expectedeverywhere in war zones.

Victims and perps

Other concerns of humanitarian workers were stated most vividly by a visitor,David Rieff, author of A Bed for the Night: Humanitarianism in Crisis. Having read hisprevious book, Slaughterhouse, written during the siege of Sarajevo, I expectedthat Rieff would again promote international readiness to undertake war-fightingmissions in hot-spots around the world.
However, he now points out the com-plications that have negated all anticipated benefits. Accordingly, he does not supportthe Responsibility to Protect doctrine (see p33), arguing that it will never be applieduniversally--interventions will never be authorised into powerful countries thatabuse their own citizens, but only into weak ones. Moreover, Rieff considers itunwarranted to identify one side in a fight as innocent victims and the other side asguilty perpetrators. Often, he says, the victims are also guilty, or will become so assoon as they get the chance, as in the case of many Kosovar victims after NATO's 1999defeat of their Serbian oppressors.

Prolonging the agony?

Over the past two decades, a world-wide human rights movement has arisen andhumanitarian workers are increasingly viewed as participants in it. Clearly, mostof the people they aid in war zones are actually suffering because their humanrights have been violated. To alleviate their misery may be only a short-term"band-aid" solution since it will not change the root causes. In fact, by provid-ing food and medicine even-handedly, relief workers know that they may be pro-longing the conflict--or even contributing to the misery of the victims by help-ing the very people who are causing that suffering.
Sometimes it is necessary to compro-mise with a dictator, just to be allowed to bring in supplies. Nevertheless, at a cer-tain point, some NGO charities have felt compelled to draw the line for moral rea-sons. A few organisations openly declare that their assistance is part of a politicalreform movement and that they will no longer assist any government or rebelgroup that they find politically or morally unacceptable.

Value in neutrality

Previously Rieff criticised the International Red Cross as immoral for remainingscrupulously neutral toward both Muslim and Serb belligerents in Bosnia. Later, how-ever, he came to view neutrality as the best position for all NGO humanitarians.
Even though relief workers can accomplish nothing permanent for war victimsby offering only alleviation, he says they should limit themselves to that. But hebelieves that they won't. Humanitarian aid will become increasingly political innature, and increasingly managed by the military. Armed interventions under thebanner of human rights will become more common, he believes, but will be unableto establish democracies. Instead, troops will often have to remain indefinitely asan occupying force, protecting victims from further violence and being regardedlocally as colonial rulers.

Nonviolent imperative

Rieff seems to take pride in issuing these bleak predictions with relentless stoicism,swatting away every hopeful alternative that anyone in his audience proposes.Nevertheless, some of us did try. Over a drink I shared my misgivings about hisposition on Bosnia in Slaughterhouse. While I had sympathised with the Muslims and wanted to protect their lives, Ihad not considered it a wise precedent to fight their separatist war for them. Forone reason, most countries that have divided have had tragic futures longafterward. Rieff replied that he had argued exactly for that--that the UNshould fight their war for them--but for political, not humanitarian, reasons. Itwas not to save lives but rather because he believed the Muslims had a chance fordemocracy if they could get rid of the fascistic Slobodan Milosevic.
But all that fighting did not get rid of Milosevic. What got rid of him was nonvi-olent resistance. In the classroom later, I suggested that instead of sending troops,the UN or certain countries such as Canada might help people to oust their dictatorsby nonviolent means. After all, political defiance has been used successfully manytimes. It takes time, training, strategic planning, and enough money for cellphones and photocopiers, but it should always be given priority over militaryintervention and over separatist declarations of autonomy.
Admittedly, there may still be a few occasions, as in Rwanda, when international military action is necessary because genocide is imminent. Often such a UN intervention can save far more lives than it costs, as proved to be the case in East Timor. But, as Rieff insists, such cases should, and can, be rare.

Extracted from Peace Magazine, July-September 2004.
Metta Spencer is the editor of Peace Magazine.
Peace Magazine, PO Box 248, Stn P, Toronto, ON M5S 2S7, Canada (+1 416 588 8748; email mspencer@web.net; http://www.peacemagazine.org/ ).