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Nationalism in Foreign Policy: Anachronism or Necessity?

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by Alexandru Nica

Hungary’s Orbán and the EU, a troubled relationship (Image Credit: Wikimedia)

Let us take the following statement by way of introduction. ‘A nation […] is a group of persons united by a common error about their ancestry and a common dislike of their neighbors’. In this article, I will demonstrate how this statement is false, since nations and nationalism are, after all, expressions of identity. As such, nationalism will continue to shape foreign policy as long as nations continue to be the main actors on the international stage. Before discussing about nations, nationalism or foreign policy as their bond, however, one ought to first define these concepts.

Nationalism, nation, what is the difference?

The concept of nationalism has at its core the idea of a nation. This large group of people lives on a common territory and has a common cultural inheritance, a history, a language, a shared religion, and ultimately, interests. It can thus be argued that the concept of a ‘nation’ also develops a feeling of moral affectivity and solidarity among its members. It is not so much about political institutions, structures, or ideologies but rather more about cultural ties and ethnic legacies.

In a nutshell, nationalism can be defined as a current of thought or a doctrine which puts nations and their interests above any other individual or collective interest. In this sense, nationalism implies that nations should be entitled to govern themselves and their territory independently, without any foreign or other external interference. At the same time, nations should be the only legitimate foundation of states. In so doing, states should reflect the national identities and national unity.

However, some historians “have attributed to nationalism a variety of harmful consequences, ranging from absurd social and cultural policies to totalitarian terror and global destabilization”. This fact has often led to misinterpretations when the matter was politicised. Because of some political or diplomatic contexts or to support some extreme ideologies, nationalism can sometimes take exacerbated forms. Xenophobia or chauvinism are but two examples. Nonetheless, in order to understand nationalism’s true nature and purposes, a clear difference must be made between nationalism and these derived concepts.

According to the same Anthony Smith, some definitions consider nationalism to be an artificial doctrine, with almost nothing to do with the organic concept of a ‘nation’. However, there are also perspectives connecting nationalism with a national state of mind, reflected in feelings of national identity and belonging. Therefore, it is not only about people’s desiderata to have their own states and to be masters of their own destiny but also about the sense of belonging, of connection, of ancestry and continuity. It is an indispensable element of one’s core identity, because it implies integrating oneself in your past, present, and future. An existential perpetuity, if you will.

One might be tempted to think that nationalism, as it is perceived today, belongs to modernity. Indeed, nationalism appeared in the German space, as a reaction to the French Revolution of 1789. As such, it might indeed be considered ‘modern’, chronologically speaking. However, the fundamental element that nationalism operates with is the ‘nation’, an organic entity rooted in the pre-modern era (with the 100 Years War or the Spanish Reconquista as examples). In so doing, we can consider that nationalism precedes modernity, semantically speaking. Nonetheless, this argument can be developed separately, as the debate is too wide and complex to be covered here. For now, let us return to foreign policy.

Nationalism in foreign policy

It can be affirmed that foreign policy belongs to modernity, even if certain elements of diplomatic interaction can be identified even back to the era of Ancient Greece or the Roman Empire. At present, upon analysing the contemporary international environment, it can also be stated that nationalism has an important role in shaping world politics and no doubt that foreign policy reflects national interests of many states, even if the world is facing an ever-increasing process of globalisation.

For many states, the role of nationalism in the construction of their foreign policy has to do with a certain need for legitimising foreign affairs. As an analogy, this need for legitimacy can be traced back to the Roman Empire (which had an active and intense propaganda meant to express the civilising role of Rome and the relations with the ‘barbarians’). Historiography, which arose back then, is nowadays still an important factor of legitimacy, especially for countries with expanding tendencies.

When it comes to how national interest can be reflected into foreign policy, Russia is another great example. Even if the U.S.S.R. collapsed in 1991, Russia’s great power aspirations never ceased to be. For this reason, after a decade of internal difficulties and a faulty foreign policy (under Primakov’s policy), Russia adopted a new realism under Putin. This strategy was influenced by the national interests of the state and we can clearly notice a reflection of nationalism in Russia’s foreign policy even more now, in the last decade.

Although Putin’s Russia is not isolationist, his foreign policy made one fact clear: Russia wants to join the Western community. It wants to be integrated among the other great powers, but on its own terms. Simultaneously, it can be observed how Russia is slowly re-emerging as an important power on the international stage, by fully using its resource-rich advantages to pursue its national interests in its relation to the EU.

Speaking about the EU, one can argue that the Old Continent has over the last few years been confronted with a rise of nationalism, a development which is also reflected in foreign policy. This situation was possible also due to the perception that EU members are beginning to face a two-speed Union, where sometimes double standards are applied. Accordingly, Central European countries (the Czech Republic, Slovakia, Poland, and Hungary) were not satisfied with their position, as the power of each one’s voice wasn’t able to make their national interests heard towards the Western part of the Union. To put it frankly, this is how the “Visegrad Group” took shape.

These countries still accept the EU status-quo and common Aquis. However, in some cases, they take actions according to their own interest, even when this comes in contradiction with Brussels’ policy. Hungary, for instance, went even farther, adopting a sort of dualist foreign policy towards the EU and Russia. Orban’s rhetoric has been focused on opposing globalisation, migration, sexual ideologies, contesting decisions of the European Union, accusing foreign corporations of spoliation, calling for a return to Christian and national values, and so on.

In so doing, Orban presented “illiberal democracy” as a better solution, thereby rendering the term “illiberal” in a positive light – a necessary alternative to liberal internationalism and to an emerging “liberal empire” which is the EU. Moreover, as a constant critic of the EU, Orban rallied behind Polish premier Morawiecki and his similar political program.

In this context, one can argue that the Hungarian premier has come with an approach that functions as a ‘defensive shield’ in front of an outer peril which can dilute the Hungarian essence. The reason why his solution was embraced by a majority of Hungarians might be that it resonates with their inner psychological reaction to what they perceive as threatening for their core identity.

In the end, it’s all about identity

Today, when humanity finds itself in an era of digitalisation and globalisation, it might seem at a first glance that national identities are obsolete and anachronistic. However, national identity is one of the main components of psychological identity, broadly defined. In the case of large groups – nations, countries, this aspect is likely to be reflected in relation to other large groups.

By summarising the post-Cold War international context, Samuel Huntington offers an interesting approach on the need for identity. According to him, people are different mainly because they share different cultures. When facing existential questions, they try to find an answer by looking at their core identity, which is undoubtedly and inevitably shaped by their culture and community. By their traits and groups. People know who they are only when they find out who they are not.

Therefore, dimensionally, the group is going all the way up to the nation, starting from family, friends, and the surrounding environment. Nations determine people to adjust not only their self-confidence, but also their principles and values, by sticking to some of them and rejecting others. A human being needs to identify with something and to belong somewhere, as a “zoon politikon” – social animal – and “zoon logikon” – logical animal, as Aristotle stated in his Politics.

Apart from money or power, the need for identity can lead one to fight wars that are not his, on distant continents, thousands of miles away, as large-group affiliation is a very strong element in determining one’s identity. In other words, religion, ethnicity, national identity, culture, they all are at the core of the individual’s psyche.

Trying to survive and belong comes out of an inferiority complex. Trying to subdue and belong comes out of a superiority complex. Still, both are about identity. To quote Huntington: ‘People are discovering new but often old identities and marching under new but often old flags which lead to wars with new but often old enemies’. After all, people are both rational and emotional beings. And for such beings, the need for identity is permanent. That’s why nationalism – as an expression of national identity – is undoubtedly present in both foreign and internal policy and it seems it will probably remain like this as long as states will be the main actors on the international stage.

Alexandru is currently pursuing an MA in Political Psychology at Bournemouth University. He holds a BA in History and is interested in how politics, media, psychology, and technology are interconnected and shape our fast-paced contemporary society.

A Question of Leadership: Lessons from the UN’s Actions in Myanmar

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by Gerrit Kurtz

Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon meeting with Senior General Min Aung Hlaing, Commander-in-Chief of Myanmar Defense Services. (Image credit: UN Photo/Eskinder Debebe)

 

The UN’s inquiry into its own actions in Myanmar since 2012 draws significant parallels with a similar exercise that focused on the UN’s role during the end of the war in Sri Lanka. Once again, the UN found itself in a situation where a government was committing atrocities, but the UN showed an incoherent, ineffective response. Without clear leadership adjudicating differences among key stakeholders in the UN system, the principled engagement to which Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon had committed himself remained elusive.

Engaging with severe human rights violations requires courage and coherence, setting clear principles and the readiness to stand by them if they are under pressure. An independent inquiry on the UN’s action during the Rakhine crisis in Myanmar, which came out in June, observed that the international organisation showed a “systemic failure” in dealing with the state’s repression of the Rohingya people between 2010 and 2018. Choosing his words carefully, its author, the former Guatemalan foreign minister Gert Rosenthal, echoed a similar exercise on the UN’s behaviour during the end of the war in Sri Lanka in 2008/09. Importantly, the UN system’s shortcomings were not a simple matter of failing to speak out, but of incoherence across the system, exacerbated by the lack of executive decision-making in Myanmar and at headquarters level. The lack of leadership by Secretary General Ban Ki-moon, despite his strong rhetorical commitment to human rights and atrocity prevention, deserves further attention.

From the UN’s perspective, the situation in Sri Lanka and Myanmar showed uncanny parallels, despite all objective differences. In Sri Lanka, the armed forces pursued a relentless final assault on the Tamil Tigers’ last hold-outs in Sri Lanka in 2008-2009. In Myanmar, the security forces attacked Rohingya civilians repeatedly, culminating in full-scale ethnic cleansing of the Rohingya population in 2017. In both countries, governments were the major perpetrators of violence, the presence of armed groups notwithstanding. Both governments were opposed to a strong human rights presence by the UN, and frustrated efforts by the UN Secretariat to increase its relevant capacity.

Myanmar and Sri Lanka, though both at the time host to significant armed violence, had successfully objected to any political or peacekeeping presence. The Resident Coordinators (RC), the head of the UN Country Team, in both countries had been chosen at a time of relative peace and with a strong development focus, not a profile in international humanitarian and human rights law. There were even some personal overlaps: Vijay Nambiar, the special advisor on Myanmar between 2012 and 2016, had been one of the most important UN officials during the Sri Lanka crisis, as Ban’s chef de cabinet. Lastly, there were strong geopolitical divisions that manifested themselves in a reluctance of the UN Security Council to discuss the situation as an official agenda item. In short, they were among the most difficult situations for the UN to work in.

The central challenge, as identified by Rosenthal, is a familiar and highly pertinent one: “how the United Nations can maintain some type of constructive engagement with individual member states where human rights abuses are systematically taking place, while at the same time pressing for those states to uphold their international commitments.” In other words, the UN needs to find an adequate mix of “quiet diplomacy” and “outspoken advocacy”, approaches that are associated with different parts of the UN system. For such a mix, the UN needs an inclusive organisational structure to produce a coherent policy, communicated across the system, owned by the leadership, and based on current, on-the-ground information and analysis.

The failure in Myanmar, according to Rosenthal, was that none of those prerequisites were present. Both at country and at HQ level, there were stark differences of opinion regarding the most adequate modus operandi. These manifested themselves in an increasingly polarised working environment, as a function of the high stakes involved in the crisis in Rakhine state. Both sides of the argument thought that the other approach was not only wrong-headed, but potentially dangerous and counterproductive to de-escalate the violence and reduce discrimination. The emotionally charged atmosphere explains the reports about critical individuals being excluded from key meetings by Renata Lok Dessalien. The UN also had difficulty accessing the most volatile areas of Rakhine state and providing independent monitoring after alleged incidents.

Perhaps most importantly, there was a lack of strategic leadership, not just at the country level, but also at the highest level of the UN system. Differences between Deputy Secretary-General Jan Eliasson, who pressed for advocacy, and Special Envoy Vijay Nambiar and UNDP Administrator Helen Clark, who stressed quiet diplomacy and development efforts, respectively, were never resolved by Secretary-General Ban. Rosenthal writes, “even at the highest level of the Organization there was no common strategy.”

These shortcomings are particularly salient because Ban and Eliasson had vowed to turn a page after the damning findings of the Sri Lanka inquiry. They launched the “Human Rights up Front” initiative in late 2013 with the aim to improve coordination, information management, engagement with member states, and the UN’s organisational culture. One of the new mechanisms established as part of the initiative was the so-called Senior Action Group (SAG). The SAG brought together the system’s most important parts at the top leadership level, including the UNDP Administrator, the High Commissioner for Human Rights, the Emergency Relief Coordinator, and other high-level officials. It was chaired by Deputy Secretary General Eliasson.

In the SAG’s discussion of the crisis in Rakhine state, Helen Clark, then UNDP administrator, protected UNDP and her RC, insisting that investing in development would also benefit the Rohingya, which should not be jeopardised by an overly focus on human rights advocacy. Allegations of specific incidents required more investigation, she often insisted. According to a UN official familiar with these discussions that I interviewed, “any time there was a contentious issue, a dilemma between quiet diplomacy, public diplomacy and so on, the differences were simply discussed, and no executive decision was taken.”

While the UNDP administrator is appointed by the Secretary General, he or she also reports to the UNDP Executive Board. At the time, Clark had the final say on appointing or replacing RCs. The UN official that I interviewed described her behaviour as “territorial.” In any case, Ban could have insisted on a common position on the Rakhine crisis, not the least since Helen Clark had officially signed up to Human Rights up Front. Eliasson, who knew the destitute situation of the Rohingya from his time as Emergency Relief Coordinator in the early 1990s, had pressed for the replacement of the RC as early as 2015. Still, Ban did not overrule Clark nor did he “arbitrate a common stance between these two competing perspectives,” as Rosenthal writes.

The lack of leadership was highly problematic: the whole purpose of such high-level meetings as the SAG was to deal with questions that UN officials at the country level had not been able to agree on, and to create a common analysis and joint ownership of decisions. The different perspectives are ingrained in the distinct mandates and ways of working of the parts of the UN system; it falls to the collective leadership of the UN system to resolve tensions arising from the operational work. “Systemic failure” sounds like the reasons for incoherence lie mainly in structural differences. While these are important, ultimately responsibility for ensuring that the whole UN system works falls to its leadership, including the Secretary General and member states.

Clearly, the UN system is subject to the same cleavages and divisions that characterise the international system as a whole. As Renata Lok Dessalien herself points out in a paper written after her assignment in Myanmar, conceptual differences regarding the meaning and interpretation of basic principles are ingrained in the UN Charter, for example between the promotion of human rights and the respect for national sovereignty. No internal UN reform such as Human Rights up Front can do away with those tensions, or abolish geopolitical differences. What it can do, and it has done with some mixed success, is change the way the organisation works, improving communication, analysis and decision-making procedures.

If the UN can hope to influence events in situations like those in Rakhine state in Myanmar at all, a coherent and coordinated policy across the whole system is a prerequisite. Otherwise both governments and critical member states are always able to play different parts of the system against each other, muting their respective effectiveness.

Luckily and despite significant opposition from key member states, the UN has started to improve its coherence in dealing with the crisis in Myanmar. Shortly after he came into office, Secretary General António Guterres appointed a permanent monitoring group within the UN, and prioritised strategic dialogue with Myanmar’s government, including State Counsellor Aung San Suu Kyi. He also championed a reform of the RC system. When Myanmar’s armed forces began their military offensive that included ethnic cleansing in Rakhine state in August 2017, Guterres resorted to public diplomacy. In a rare step, he wrote to the UN Security Council, urging its members to take action. Also in 2017, Renata Lok Dessalien finished her position as RC in Myanmar. Her successor, the Norwegian Knut Ostby, emphasized communication and principled engagement, for example threatening to reduce all but essential aid to IDP camps in Rakhine state if the government did not improve the Rohingyas’ freedom of movement. At the same time, renewed fighting between the ethnic Rakhine Arakan armed group and the government as well as continued denial of citizenship have left around a million Rohingya refugees stranded in refugee camps in neighbouring Bangladesh.

UN diplomacy consists of difficult balancing acts, in particular in dealing with unrepentant governments committing atrocities against their own population. Faced with an increasing emphasis of state sovereignty, including by the United States, Guterres has, at times, appeared to waver on human rights. If his prevention agenda is to succeed, he needs to mobilise all pillars of the UN to support each other, not just in Myanmar.

Gerrit Kurtz is a non-resident fellow with the Global Public Policy Institute, Berlin. You can find him on Twitter @GerritKurtz

al-Shabaab’s Anatomy: A Study in Context

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by Leonardo Palma

15 May 2019

al-Shabaab militants during a training session near Chisimaio, Somalia (Al Jazeera)

Chronic instability in the Horn of Africa, with clear repercussions for Uganda, Sudan, Kenya, and Mozambique, has reinforced a process of aggregation within Islamists groups that include nationalist fringes, maritime pirates and organised crime groups. While this region is under the influence of al-Qa’ida in Eastern Africa (AQEA), the group that is the strongest cause of concern – both numerically and militarily – is al-Shabaab.

From the Islamic Courts to the Battle of Mogadishu

After the Somali state’s collapse in 1991 and the failure of UN Operation “Restore Hope”, the country fell prey to local warlords spurring overall disintegration. The result was the birth, especially in Mogadishu, of the so-called “Islamic Courts Union (ICU)”, which assumed certain administrative and social duties including the settling of civil lawsuits through a rigid application of Sha’ria. Through their private militias, the Courts were also able to handle public order and counter numerous warlords. In 2006, to make the system more efficient and coordinated, several Courts decided to meet in a Union called Midowga Maxkamadaha Isaamiga (ICU). Thanks to strong popular support, the Union was able to recapture Mogadishu after years of anarchy in an institutional vacuum. The Courts established some order, opened up both the harbour and the airport, enlarged the market of Bakara and extended their influence far beyond the city towards Baidoa. The latter was the seat of the Transitional Federal Government (TFG), a body born in 2004 after the dissolution of the National Transitional Government (NTG). At that time, the Union’s project of renewal included the introduction of Sha’ria as source of law, but Somalia’s highly stratified tribal system made that almost impossible. Furthermore, the Intergovernmental Authority for Development (IAD), created in 1986 by neighbouring countries, kept supporting the Baidoa transitional government, suggesting that the neighbours were – at least – suspicious if not worried about the birth of an Islamic State in Somalia.

al-Shabaab fighters under the black banner (The Independent)

In December 2006, the TFG, militarily supported by Ethiopia, promoted a campaign against Islamic Courts rule. Within a few weeks, the TFG managed to regain control of the city, marginalising the ICU until its complete and utter defeat. It was during those chaotic days that, inside the crumbling ICU, the al-Shabaab movement was born[1]. Previously a minority Islamist group that involved youth inside the Courts, al-Shabaab emerged as an autonomous organisation with wider aim and appeal. The leaders, most of whom were veterans of the Mogadishu battle against the old warlords, decided to carry on the war against the TFG while promoting a three-phase plan: overthrow the federal government, establish an Islamic State and drive the multinational African force (ANISOM) out of Somalia. The latter has led to a progressive tightening of attacks against Kenya, Ethiopia, and Mozambique, all of them responsible for the supply of military equipment to the TFG and for operations against the al-Shabaab training camps.

Evolution, adaptation and ideological clashes

Al-Shabaab evolved quickly, eventually pledging allegiance to and integrating with al-Qa’ida. On 26 January 2009, al-Shabaab insurgents besieged and conquered Baidoa, to the detriment of the weak, and former allied, President Sharif Ahmed[2]. In the following months, several suicide attacks in the cities of Belet Uen and Mogadishu caused the death of hundreds of students, civilians, officials and TFG cabinet members such as Interior Minister Omar Aden[3]. The group extended its control over the country between 2009 and 2011, including much of southern Somalia. In those areas, al-Shabaab reduced the import of low-price food to increase the local wheat production and shift wealth from urban centres to rural areas, where the application of the Sha’ria was less problematic. Over time, al-Shabaab also changed its mind about maritime piracy in the Gulf of Aden. Indeed, the group realised that tolerating pirate activity would have had a huge impact over public opinion against the weak federal government. Nevertheless, following the loss of the Bakara market, and needing to secure financing, al-Shabaab started to engage in economic activities with the pirates, receiving money in return for the use of its territories as “sanctuary” for logistical needs and as routes for weapons and supplies.

In addition to engaging with pirates, its attempts to expand into Somaliland and Puntland shifted al-Shabaab’s ideology closer to that of AQAP (al-Qa’ida in the Arabian Peninsula) in Yemen. These new ties led to a divide within the group, since several local leaders and fighters were more rooted in a nationalistic view rather than in an international jihadist ideology[4]. This strife was worsened by the TFG and Kenya’s harsh repression, which weakened the widespread control that al-Shabaab had enjoyed over the coastal region and in the south.[5] Between 2011 and 2012, TFG forces, supported by Kenya reconquered Afgoi, Laanta Bur, Afmadù (a core asset for road connections) and Chisimaio. Indeed, it is during 2012 that the war between the TFG and al-Shabaab for the control of Somalia advanced: in February, through an online message, the Shabaab leader, Ali Zubeyr “Godane”, swore allegiance to Ayman al-Zawahiri, head of al-Qa’ida, thereby officially rendering al-Shabaab a branch of al-Qa’ida. Shortly thereafter, the TFG was disbanded and the Somali Federal Government (SFG) was sworn in, without settling the division between those who want a federal unitarian nation, and those who prefer a tribal federalism with wide administrative autonomies[6].

The group has been also accused of recruiting primary school pupils (Intelligence Briefs)

With the loss of Chisimao and Jubaland, al-Shabaab started to direct its activities towards the consolidation of its territorial control, widening its influence over Somaliland and Puntland and strengthening its asymmetrical terror strategy against Somalia’s neighbours. The carnage of Westgate Mall in 2013 and Garissa College in 2015 were painful manifestations of that strategy[7]. However, al-Shabaab’s menace has increased not only through its adherence to al-Qa’ida (which led, as a direct consequence, to the birth of an international cell named al-Muhajirun) but also through the worsening divide between the fringe controlled by the late Godame (killed in a US drone airstrike in 2014) and the nationalistic faction, tied to the spiritual guru Hassan Dahir Aweys and led by Mukhtar Robow. [8]Indeed, al-Qa’ida decided to replace Godame with Ibrahim al-Afghani in 2010. The strife led to a harsh confrontation until Aweys accepted to move with a private militia in Adado, under SFG control.

The decentralisation strategy beyond 2014

The death of Godame in 2014 left a dangerous power vacuum which the group tried to fill with a strategy of operational decentralisation, following the path marked by al-Qa’ida[9]. That phase of uncertain transition was overcome by a new wave of terrorist attacks in the region. This, on the one hand, confirms the prediction that when a terrorist group is weakened, it tends to strike back to show its vitality. On the other hand, these attacks forced the US military to intensify its counterterrorism operations with airstrikes and special forces. In June 2016, a drone airstrike killed both Mohamud Dulyadeyn, mastermind of the Garissa attack, and Maalim Daoud, al-Shabaab’s intelligence chief. The organisation retaliated over he Summer with car bombings, armed assault, kidnapping and suicide bombers, causing several deaths and re-seizing territory.[10] After the death of an American soldier in a clandestine operation, the US resumed its bombing campaign and struck, from June to August 2017, in several provinces and regions, killing, among others, the regional commander Ali Jabal. According to US intelligence, he was the man behind the suicide attacks in Mogadishu

From late 2017, al-Shabaab has shown great resilience and capacity to adapt to SFG, US, and AMISOM counterterrorism efforts. Decentralising both its operational branches and leadership, has allowed the group to relieve the military and police pressure they have experienced in the last years. The continuation of terrorist attacks is proof that the movement is trying to show that it is still active although weakened. Furthermore, al-Shabaab is attempting to remain on a relentless offensive, thereby exacerbating regional tensions and stability. Regional cooperation, humanitarian assistance, advanced training for the Somali soldiers, selected counterterrorism operations to cut ties between AQAP, al-Shabaab and its sponsors are the only means to drain the territorial control that the group at present still enjoys.

Leonardo Palma attended the Italian Military Academy of Modena and graduated in Political Science and International Relations at Roma Tre University. He is a postgraduate visiting research student at the Department of War Studies, King’s College London.

[1] For a comprehensive historical account, see: Stig Jarle Hansen, Al-Shabaab in Somalia: The History and Ideology of a Militant Islamist Group, Oxford University Press, Oxford, 2013; but also James Fergusson, The World’s most dangerous place: Inside the Outlaw State of Somalia, De Capo Press, 2013.

[2] J. L. Anderson, Letter from Mogadishu, The Most Failed State, The New Yorker, December 14, 2009, p. 64, https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2009/12/14/the-most-failed-state.

[3] Three ministers killed in Somalia attack, Newvision.co.ug, December 3, 2009, http://www.newvision.co.ug/D/8/12/703172

[4] Where in the World is Sheikh Aweys? Somalia Report, February 1, 2012, http://www.somaliareport.com/index.php/post/2675/Where_in_the_World_is_Sheikh_Aweys; and Somali observers: internal divisions widening within al-Shabaab, Sabahionline.com, 4 August 2012, http://sabahionline.com/en_GB/articles/hoa/articles/features/2012/04/05/feature-01; see also: Hansen (2013), Ibidem, p.103.

[5] Joint Communique – Operation Linda Nchi, Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Kenya, January 14, 2012; and Alex Ndegwa, Al Shabaab’s propaganda war, The Standard, 17 November 2011, https://www.standardmedia.co.ke/category/2000046627/n-a;

[6] Somalia: UN Envoy Says Inauguration of New Parliament in Somalia “Historic Moment”, Forum on China-Africa Cooperation, 21 August 2012, https://allafrica.com/stories/201208220474.html;

[7] Kenya al-Shabab attack: Security questions as Garissa dead mourned, BBC News, 3 April 2015, and Okari, Dennis, Westgate’s unanswered questions, BBC News, 22 September 2014.

[8] Nation’s army in new battles as advance resumes, Allafrica.com. November 17, 2011, https://allafrica.com/stories/201111180120.html; and Al-Shabaab Leader Admits Split, Somalia Report, 7 November 2012;

[9] On Al-Shabaab and Al-Qa’ida: Tricia Bacon, Daisy Muibu, Al-Qaeda and al-Shabaab: A Resilient Alliance, in Michael Keating, Matt Waldman, War and Peace in Somalia: National Grievances, Local Conflict and Al-Shabaab, Oxford, Oxford University Press, 2019, p. 391;

[10] Somalie: le retrait des troupes éthiopiennes lié à des «contraintes financières», RFI, 27 October 2016, http://www.rfi.fr/afrique/20161027-somalie-le-retrait-troupes-ethiopiennes-lie-contraintes-financieres .

[11] US confirmed the death of al-Shabaab’s Ali Jabal, Fox News, 4 August 2017, https://www.foxnews.com/world/us-confirms-death-of-al-shabaab-terrorist-ali-jabal; and US troops call in airstrike after they come under fire in Somalia, CNN, 17 August 2017, https://edition.cnn.com/2017/08/17/politics/us-troops-somalia-airstrike/index.html.

Image source: https://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/africa/al-shabaab-somalia-ban-single-use-plastic-bags-terror-environment-livestock-a8428641.html

Impact of New Technologies on United Nations Peacekeeping Operations

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By Felix Manig

The UAVs used by the UN are unarmed and used by the UN peacekeeping force MONUSCO in the Democratic Republic of Congo to track movements of hostile actors and bolster humanitarian responses. Image credit: Felix Manig, 2014, Goma, DRC

Rapid technological advancements are changing the nature of warfare and military operations, with serious implications for peace and security. At present, states are investing immense sums into the research and development of emerging technologies for their national security. This phenomenon is led by the U.S. government which approves nearly $3 billion annually for its defense research agency DARPA. As technology becomes ever more essential in an evolving and complex world, how can less affluent security projects like multilateral United Nations Peacekeeping Operations (UNPKOs) benefit from new technologies and integrate the positive effects into their mission? Introducing advanced technology into peacekeeping missions yields significant opportunities but must go hand in hand with strengthening the existing capabilities of UN diplomats and agencies that address the socio-economic, development and political issues related to the conflict.

UNPKOs have a poor technology track record

UNPKOs have been slow to adapt to technological change. In part, this is because the private sector is most often better situated than governments or bureaucratic organisations to harness and promote innovation. Secondly, the UN peacekeeping infrastructure is chronically underfunded and currently faces threats of further financial cuts. In February 2015, an independent Expert Panel on Technology and Innovation appointed by the Department of Peacekeeping Operations and Field Support found that many UN field operations were lacking the technological capabilities considered necessary by militaries and law enforcement to operate effectively. It also cited these deficits as a direct reason for tech-enabled militaries of developed member states to refuse to participate in the field. With missions in the Democratic Republic of Congo, South Sudan or Syria representing some of the world’s most complex conflict environments, can new technologies soften the critical voices that attest these PKOs a failure to execute their Security Council mandate?

How can UNPKOs benefit from new technologies?

As the United Nations system is set to undergo significant reforms introduced by the new Secretary-General António Guterres, some changes and amendments include scaling up the technological capabilities of peacekeeping operations. The positive effects of new technologies are most likely to be useful for the prevention and response to conflicts, intelligence gathering, and communications system of missions.

In his vision statement, the Secretary-General stressed his commitment to a “culture of prevention” to bring about peace, political solutions and sustainable development to crisis hotspots. Technology can play a central role in supporting the UN’s endeavor to prevent conflict. Most importantly, the collection and analysis of data about crime and conflict could result in indicators which in turn can be used to shorten warning and response times for peacekeepers on the ground. Systematic monitoring and mapping of crises can promote patterns and models to make the prevention of human rights abuses or cease-fire violations more efficient and cost-effective. For example, when the UN tested the use of Unmanned Aerial Vehicles (UAVs) in the DR Congo and Central African Republic (CAR), significant advancements were made in the protection of civilians from ambushes by armed groups. UAVs also allowed peacekeepers to maintain improved situational awareness by tracking migration movements or performing aerial reconnaissance of hostile actors, thereby helping them to operate in difficult asymmetric threat environments.

Another important step in ramping up the prevention of conflict and violence would be a concerted effort among UN member states to develop an intelligence agency within the Department of Peacekeeping Operations. While UNPKOs have established intelligence-gathering units, they are largely based on an ad-hoc approach and member states have expressed confusion around this concept. The UN doesn’t like to see itself as an intelligence-gathering unit; however, intelligence capabilities are required if peacekeeping operations want to effectively address threats to international peace and security in the twenty-first century. Several issues currently impede the development of an intelligence oversight body, including the reluctance of member states to share information and equipment, questions of accountability, and the lumbering communications infrastructure of many peacekeeping operations, making it difficult to bring together the civilian, police and military components of a mission.

The communication network of UNPKOs is the third pillar that could benefit enormously from improved technology by incorporating local populations into missions – dubbed along the lines of “participatory peacekeeping”. Some recent ideas include letting locals send their information, observations or alerts directly to the peacekeeping force as a confidence-building measure and as a means to engage local communities in the process of conflict resolution. Modern communications equipment and better coordination between peace operations would also help improve the safety and security of UN personnel and assets.

A holistic approach to peacekeeping

At the same time, it is essential to understand that while new technologies can offer great assistance to UNPKOs, they are not a panacea to prevent all forms of conflict and violence. The heads of UNPKOs should be careful not to overstate the opportunities of big data analytics and simply replace their understanding of local politics and context-sensitive approaches with statistical models. It would be extremely foolish to discard the value of personal relationships that diplomats and conflict mediators have formed with actors on the ground over time or the important work of other UN agencies in the field.

Danger also lies in the adverse effects modern communication and technology can have within conflict settings. Concerns over internet privacy, censorship, and surveillance, or the opportunities technologies offer to extremist groups for recruitment and propaganda tools should all be considered. Furthermore, as armed drones or offensive cyber attacks become more frequent in today’s conflicts, international laws and norms are yet to materialise to contain their irresponsible use.

Missing the opportunities new technologies provide means missing chances for peace. The fact that the UN has adopted a strategy for technology and innovation for its PKOs is a promising step. At the same time, current operations must also address the technological capabilities of adversaries and civilians in conflict zones. In the end, PKOs need a holistic approach by effectively combining the opportunities of modern equipment and innovation, political solutions, and paths to economic development to secure peace.

Felix (@felix_manig) is a postgraduate in International Relations at King’s College London. He focuses on conflict resolution strategies, political violence, and human rights. Outside of academia, he is Series Editor at Strife and writes for the Peacekeeping Project at the United Nations Association of Germany.

 

The World's Forgotten Migrants

by

By Isobel Petersen:

A displaced woman sits on a bed next to the remnants of her burnt house in Khor Abeche, South Darfur. April, 2014. Photo: Albert Gonzalez Farran, UNAMID (CC 2.0)
A displaced woman sits on a bed next to the remnants of her burnt house in Khor Abeche, South Darfur. April, 2014. Photo: Albert Gonzalez Farran, UNAMID (CC 2.0)

Human migration exists on a large scale across the globe, but in a variety of forms and for a variety of reasons. Conflict is one of the key causes of displacement, which is unsurprising considering the devastating effects of living in a conflict zone: poor health; economic instability; familial tragedy and lack of education opportunities, amongst others.

Today’s conflicts are increasingly asymmetric with non-state armed groups (NSAGs) taking the lead in waging wars, resulting in a multitude of competing factions and loyalties heightening the threat to citizens of a state in conflict. Furthermore, the lines are blurred between combatant and civilian all too easily, normalising both the intentional targeting of civilians as well as their destruction as ‘collateral damage’. During the past 50 years, wars of independence evolved into civil wars, which splintered into NSAGs pursuing their own gains, the targeting of minorities, battles for resources, and border disputes. Today across Iraq and Syria there is a new supra-state crisis with the rise of Islamic State (IS).

In Europe the issue of displaced persons is most visible as thousands cross the Mediterranean into Italy and Greece or by land into the Balkan states. The rate at which they have arrived has doubled in the past year, although Europe is still home to less than 10% of the world’s displaced persons. This is a life-threatening journey with the risk of injury, separation from family, poverty and arrest along the way to a hopefully better life. We are all aware of the tragedies along the southern coastlines of the Med’s beaches, but with the rising political popularity of the European Right there has been a tendency to overlook the more disastrous bigger picture.

The significance of a European Right is that it has become a prominent mouthpiece for anti-immigration, nationalist voices. On the international scale, this has consequently presented the issue of immigration as a concern for the destination countries for immigrants rather than the reasons behind migration. This problem has been exacerbated by the lack of global responsibility to tackle the issue, and focuses instead on the socio-political climate of the countries that have the capacity to assist.

Migrants are displaced peoples, admittedly not always by force, but with sufficient reason to dare to start somewhere unfamiliar and potentially hostile. Displaced peoples can also be refugees, political exiles, stateless peoples and unwelcome minorities. Migration is considered as a last resort, whether to escape persecution, natural disaster, and extreme poverty or conflict zones, and it is not a new phenomenon.

According to the UN Refugee Agency (UNHCR) by the end of 2014 there were 59.5 million people forcibly displaced – that is, involuntarily displaced people. That is only a few million shy of the total UK population. This figure is too large to ignore and states must recognise that they are increasingly going to have to accommodate non-nationals as part of the wider solution to solve the problem. This is arguably precisely why the understanding of migration has narrowed, so much so that the vast majority of those displaced by conflict have been forgotten. These forgotten migrants are internally displaced peoples (IDPs); those who - predominantly as a result of conflict – have had to move within their own countries leaving them economically unstable and at risk from persecution. The issue of cross-border migration is so headline-grabbing that the vast number of IDPs have been pushed to one side, although they are in need of humanitarian assistance too.

A little over a month ago the Internal Displacement Monitoring Centre (IDMC) released their latest annual report for the global trends and figures of IDPs. The report makes for powerful and shocking reading, as one realises just how many people are in transitory and volatile living situations within their own country. Across the 60 countries that the IDMC included in the study, there was an equivalent of 30,000 new IDPs every day between January and December 2014, bringing the global total to a staggering 38 million people; a 15% rise from 2013. When one then considers that this is about 65% of all displaced people, it becomes hard to ignore that this is a matter for academics, practitioners and policy-makers alike.

Photo: UNHCR
Photo: UNHCR

Earlier this month the UN Humanitarian Coordinator for Iraq, Lise Grande, made an urgent plea for £316m in assistance for Iraqis affected by the IS campaign, this includes over 3 million Iraqi IDPs. The financial contribution of international organisations and states is an essential part of the immediate and life-saving relief that people affected by conflict need. However, displacement cannot quickly be reversed or solved simply with funding; it must be a long-term policy movement to help not just the state structure but also the individuals. States impacted by intense conflict are likely to struggle through economic instability and weak state governance, thus making it difficult to provide for their own citizens and migrants.

In a 2009 report published by the International Committee of the Red Cross about IDPs, a key suggestion the organisation made was to assist in providing economic security in areas which are both likely to face the repercussions of conflict and those areas which receive IDPs in order to prevent future destabilisation. Post-conflict peacebuilding is accepted as a role for the UN and its member states; this must include acknowledging IDPs and assisting post-conflict governments in adjusting to the new social, economic and political demands of internal displacement.

The African Union’s (AU) 2009 Convention for the Protection and Assistance of Internally Displaced Persons, (informally known as the Kampala Convention), was the first legally binding instrument specifically catering to IDPs. By December 2014 22 AU member states had ratified it, with a further 20 member states signing it. This is an example of positive action taken by states affected directly, or as regional actors, by IDPs. It particularly reaffirms the obligation of governments to address the needs of those in their own states.

Implementation of concrete change is still, however, a challenge because states hosting displaced persons tend to be fragile, without the economic means to sufficiently address the issue. The Kampala Convention is an example of a decision that needs international support for it to be effectively implemented.

The numbers of IDPs in Colombia are the second worst in the world after Syria with 6 million counted in 2014, although UNHCR has said that may be an underestimate. This is as a result of a 50-year civil war between government forces and the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC), alongside other paramilitary groups and bandit gangs.

The poor of Colombia are becoming poorer and the ethnic minorities are suffering the most, as they live in the rural areas where most armed conflict takes place. There are legal frameworks in place to respond to internal displacement; however, this is hampered by poor enforcement on the part of the Colombian government, administrative errors, and most importantly a reactive rather than a proactive attitude. The weaknesses in the Colombian strategy of dealing with IDPs demonstrates the all-too-easy potential to provide reactive, short-term responses instead of prioritising a collaborative, long-lasting effort.

Once a ceasefire agreement has been signed, this does not mean that those IDPs who have fled the violence are once again able to continue with their lives. It should not be accepted that forcible displacement is an inevitable result of conflict; a new norm must take hold. Leaving the economic and physical security of one’s home as a result of conflict has long-term consequences for the future stability of a country, jeopardizing sustainable peace. This is the most important reason for why governments of countries with large numbers of IDPs must take the issue seriously and prioritise legal, financial and social assurances in the post-conflict environment. This requires the help of the international community who must continue to contribute to the essential humanitarian needs of those affected by conflict, including IDPs.

Most importantly, however, is the long-term recognition that migrants are not always cross-border refugees who are visible and demand a political response; a political response is needed for the ‘invisible’ migrants who have been displaced within their own countries too. Both issues must be tackled, but the issues are also separate, and demand separate responses.

Finally, it is essential that in countries such as the UK there is an attitude transformation regarding migration, as increasingly our domestic policy and attitude towards foreign relations is becoming narrow-minded and selfish. If this public attitude continues to prevail then there is no hope for a positive British contribution by policy-makers to the international tragedy of forcible internal displacement.

Isobel Petersen studied International Relations at the University of Exeter and is currently reading for an MA in Conflict, Security and Development at King’s College London. Her particular interest is post-conflict resolution with a specific focus on the Arab-Israeli crisis. Isobel is an Editor at Strife.