Rapoport Journal of Peace, Conflict and Justice Volume 3

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JOURNAL COMMITTEE EDITORS IN CHIEF

STEPHANIE LIM & AYLIN MANDURIC

SENIOR DIRECTORS

MEERAH HAQ ALEXA WARD MARIAM JAMMAL

JUNIOR EDITORS

YALDA MEHRAN COURTNEY WONG EMILY EVANS

DESIGN EDITOR

PHILIP BASARIC

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CONTENTS

STAFF

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LETTER FROM THE EDITORS

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THE FAILURE OF HUMANITARIAN INTERVENTIONIN INTERNAL CONFLICTS: THE CASE OF EAST TIMOR

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PREVENTING CONFLICT-RELATED SEXUAL VIOLENCE AGASINT WOMEN IN THE DEMOCRATIC REPUBLIC OF THE CONGO

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THE NEGLIGENCE OF UNIVERSALISM: ROMANI MARGINALIZATION IN THE FINNISH WELFARE STATE

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POST-COLD WAR HUMANITARIAN INTERVENTION AS A WEAK INTERNATIONAL NORM 26

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LETTER FROM THE EDITORS

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he Rapoport Journal of Peace, Conflict, and Justice will soon enter its third year of publication. Though young, the journal has already become a cornerstone of the Peace, Conflict, and Justice program, one which we hope to see continue to grow with each incoming cohort. With so many academic journals inaugurated on campus every year, we are proud to present a publication that channels the passion, curiosity, and critical engagement of some of the strongest undergraduate voices in the field. As in previous years, we are pleased to showcase the perspectives of some of the strongest students from the Peace, Conflict, and Justice department. For the third year in a row, we are also happy to include several exceptional pieces from political science and international relations. This year, we are introducing our first themed issue on the costs of failed intervention. Within these pages, you will find a range of perspectives on failed humanitarian intervention, neglect of sexual assault victims in post-conflict settings, and the influence of state interests in the choice to intervene. We selected long-form essays drawing from conflicts experienced around the globe From the DRC and Rwanda to East Timor, Yugoslavia, and the Roma nation, each piece sheds a unique light on the interactions between governments, international organizations, belligerents, and people in communities that have been ravaged by war or neglected by their governments. This year’s issue is the next step along this publication’s path to becoming a pillar of the PCJ community, and it is with pride that we present to you this collection of essays and articles. We would like to thank the Arts and Science Student’s Union, the Trudeau Centre for Peace, Conflict, and Justice Studies, and the PCJ Program for their generous support. We would also like to extend our special thanks to Kevin Rowley and Dr. Wendy Wong, for their exceptional contributions to the program and to the production of this publication. In reading this issue, we hope that you find something in these pages that you did not know before. We hope that you find something that stirs you, challenges you, and makes you question. Most of all, we hope you enjoy the selection of exceptional works in this issue of the Rapoport Journal of Peace, Conflict, and Justice.

EDITORS IN CHIEF

STEPHANIE LIM & AYLIN MANDURIC

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The Failure Of Humanitarian Intervention In Internal Conflicts: The Case OF East Timor

BY LENA FAUST

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ith the expansion of humanitarian programs and the emergence of the idea that conflict mitigation and its positive impacts on human development are global goals, the continued analysis of the role of the United Nations (UN), and the international community in preventing and responding to such conflicts is pertinent. For the purpose of this paper, “international community” refers to the collection of nation states with relevant roles in the conflict, although the actual analysis of the involvement of individual nations will be restricted to that of the United States as an influential global power, and Australia as a significant regional actor, with an emphasis on their respective influences on UN-mandated conflict intervention. Focusing on the example of the Indonesian occupation of East Timor and the conflicts leading to and following its independence, this paper will demonstrate that the involvement of the UN and the international community was not conducive to a peaceful transition to independence or to long-term political stability. Further, we will elucidate that the reasons behind this failure can be traced back to the fact that the successful resolution of internal conflicts necessitates an impartial authority that acts with consideration for local needs, culture and political history. In reality however, the operations undertaken by the UN and so called peace-keeping troops from neighbouring countries to this end are rarely impartial, and instead almost always influenced by the geopolitical, ideological or economic incentives of powerful nations.1 The problem will be explored further by considering that whilst the interests of the intervening nations are not always at first-glance directly contradictory, counter-productive or detrimental to the nation in question, the focus on a rapid establishment of “stability” for the purpose of maintaining international security rather than addressing the underlying causes of conflict in the target country is a major obstacle to the long-term success of humanitarian interventions.2 In order to examine whether humanitarian intervention in any conflict constitutes a success or failure,

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it is initially necessary to outline the theoretical basis for humanitarian interventions, and to consider the disparities between the normative framework for these operations and their actual outcomes. On a theoretical level, the scholarly debate around intervention in state conflicts has oscillated between the realist view – that human rights are a matter of national sovereignty, and that the resolution of internal conflicts is the responsibility of each state, not of the international community or international organizations – and the idealist view that there exists a moral obligation among influential states and institutions to assist those that lack the political or functional capability to represent and protect themselves.3,4 A discussion of the anthropological or moral rationales underlying humanitarian intervention are beyond the scope of this paper, however, an important facet of the realist argument, which, in the context of humanitarian intervention is more specifically termed the “restrictionist” view, highlights that humanitarian intervention is applied selectively, according to the interests of those providing it, and is therefore never truly humanitarian. Restrictionists thus oppose humanitarian intervention on the grounds that nation-states, acting in their own interests as realist international relations theory sees them as bound to do, will use the counter-restrictionist idea of moral obligation as a guise to legitimize their actions.5 Leaving behind the debate on whether or not humanitarian intervention should occur at all, we proceed to the more pertinent question of how it should occur. Edward Newman provides a fitting framework for international intervention in conflict zones, stating that such intervention should be “aimed at preventing the resumption or escalation of violent conflict and establishing a durable and self-sustaining peace.”6 Taking this view that successful conflict mitigation is characterized by a resultant lasting peace, the empirical evidence for the failure of international intervention in East Timor and the reasons for this failure can be analyzed. Peace-building efforts today largely take on what Newman describes as the “liberal peace-building” model, thusly named due to the fact that its proponents emphasize market-oriented economic reforms and the establishment of liberal democratic governments in the target state. The conceptual basis for this model lies in the view that democracy and democratic values are conducive to both intrastate and interstate peace, due, among other factors, to the accountability of democratic leaders to their people.7 Newman however posits two main problems with the liberal peace-building approach to international involvement in intrastate conflict, both of which apply to the international

response to the East Timorese independence movement. Firstly, he argues, focusing on political quick-fixes for restoring stability to fragile or failed states in the interest of state security and international security has resulted in the negligence of human security. In other words, he emphasized that individuals are the units of society that should be at the centre of security discourse rather than institutions, nations or the international community.8 The realist counterargument to this would be that state security should be prioritized, since in the realist model, the state itself is the entity with the means of providing security to its people. While Newman recognizes this, he argues that a focus on establishing the necessary conditions for improved individual welfare is more conducive to lasting peace than a short-term attempt to conserve or replace weak political institutions, and thus that the “state-building” model for intrastate conflict mitigation cannot be implemented successfully without regard for protecting and strengthening human security.9 Specifically in East Timor, this hurried effort to re-instate political stability occurred in multiple instances, each time with detrimental local outcomes. Firstly, in 1999, the UN organized a secret ballot in which the East Timorese could voice their opinions on the possibility of becoming a sovereign nation. The resulting 78.5% vote in favour of independence elicited a series of devastating attacks by pro-Indonesian militia, and the tolerance of Indonesia’s grasp on East Timor by the international community meant that the UN had no leverage with which to make Indonesia accept the influx of UN peace-keeping forces. Security was therefore limited, and schools, hospitals and homes were destroyed, taking the lives of hundreds as well as forcing 200,000 East Timorese to flee into West Timor.10 Thus, with an early decision to hold a referendum and fuel the independence movement, the UN hoped to guide East Timor to sovereignty as soon as possible and thereby quickly achieve stability in the region, in the interest of international security. As evidenced however, the ballot was mandated without due consideration of or preparation for its consequences, and as a result, due in part to the failure of the UN to deploy the required defense forces, this vote, although demonstrating a clear desire for independence, did little to enable independence. Instead, it resulted in significant casualties and far-reaching infrastructural damage, thus demonstrating the validity of Newman’s critique against focusing interventions in internal conflicts on the preservation of international security without regard for local human security.11 A further example of the fact that the UN’s state-building

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8 approach to peace-building in the case of East Timor was not conducive to long-term peace, development or stability is apparent in the UN’s prioritization of procedural matters and international standards of political re-organization over actual local structural requirements for such re-organization.12,13 One example of this was the UN’s planning for a much shorter transitional period leading up to the establishment of an independent nation than what was recommended by prominent local politicians such as José Ramos Horta (who later became East Timor’s second President). With most high-ranking administrative positions having been held by Indonesian officials during the Indonesian occupation, and only a very small fraction of the East Timorese population having received higher education, setting up an independent yet functional administration was extremely difficult.14 Therefore, as a consequence of both the lack of security in the aftermath of the UN-endorsed referendum and the hasty attempt at a transition to independence, East Timor was left with little upon which to build its new nation, neither in political, economic nor infrastructural terms.15 In addition, the UN’s establishment of the UN Transitional Administration in East Timor (UNTAET) scarcely improved the situation, as it operated under such a low centralized budget that significant employment cuts had to be made, primarily within the education and healthcare sectors.16 This again highlights Newman’s criticism that today’s liberal peace-building focuses too heavily on the surface-level political transition, often to the detriment of long-term local welfare and the provision of developmentally crucial services such as healthcare and education. Newman argues that interventions focusing on the strengthening of these services and the associated facilities would in the long-term be far more conducive to a stable state than any haphazard attempts at state-building. East Timor’s current dire situation attests to this, as especially in light of the rapid economic growth of some of the country’s South East Asian neighbours,17 it is clear that the transition overseen by the UN was not conducive to the establishment of long-term political or economic stability in East Timor. Its stagnant economy, low per capita income and a lack of lucrative industries such as tourism continue to represent a yet insurmountable barrier to economic growth and development in the country.18 Ruth Wedgwood, in a 2001 report on the situation in East Timor, shares Newman’s views on the shortcomings of UN involvement in East Timor as she points out: “an international presence does not promise international standards of living,”19 which underlines that neither intervention from the international community nor East Timor’s rapid integration into the global system was necessarily conducive to favourable conditions for development.20 In fact, this “integration” has simply given East Timor a more isolated place on the periphery of the dependency model. As recent reports show, economic development has not significantly improved in independent

East Timor, and the socioeconomic disparities that contributed to civil conflict are still largely unchanged, with 37% of its people still living below the poverty line as of 2014.21 This supports the view that top-down interventions that focus on re-organizing and stabilizing political institutions are less useful in the long-term in terms of eliminating the underlying sources of conflict and unrest, and that community-based approaches that take into account local needs and address local disparities are needed. In short, with the rise of the idea that weak and unstable states are a greater threat to international security than strong rival powers,22 international involvement in intrastate conflict has catered more to the immediate political interests of the international community in terms of safeguarding international security through state-building, rather than taking measures to enable the re-building of local communities. Thus, the short-term political quick-fixes mandated by the UN in East Timor in the interest of maintaining international security by quickly stabilizing the weak state were in the long-term actually detrimental to human security, and, as poverty is a fertile ground for conflict, have in turn placed long-term political stability in jeopardy.23 The second problem Newman identifies with the nature of international intervention in state conflict is its lack of sensitivity for the local situation.24 In the case of East Timor, this impacted not only the effectiveness of UN intervention during the conflict, but also undermined the validity of peace maintenance or peace-building efforts in the post-conflict period.25 As Svoboda and Davey point out in their report on UN policing in East Timor, the failure of the UN to recognize the implications of the struggle for independence and the local respect for veteran citizens who had been part of the independence movement severely undermined the authority and legitimacy of the National Police of East Timor (PNTL) (a UN-established police force), as well as eventually leading the Timorese government to request the withdrawal of the UN Integrated Mission in East Timor (UNMIT),26 the UN’s last official task force in the country.27 Therefore, a further implication of the shortcomings of liberal peace-building identified by other critics (notably Richmond and Franks in their analysis of liberal peace-building in East Timor specifically), is that the lack of involvement of the local people in the process of post-conflict reconstruction undermines local support for and cooperation with the intervention programs and transitional institutions, consequently decreasing their local legitimacy and ability to affect substantial positive change.28,29 Considering the utility of the UN’s involvement in the context of the more current situation in East Timor, it is relevant to note that whilst the country gained formal independence in 2002, UNMIT only withdrew as late as 2012, and even by then had not comprehensively addressed

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9 all aspects of its mandate, which mainly involved the establishment of political stability.30 In reality, government legislature was not yet well established and law enforcement and security remained weak, again demonstrating that the UN’s attempts at statecraft occur on a level too superficial to provide a foundation for actual long-term benefits to the population in question.31 This is in line with Newman’s aforementioned argument, although he takes it further by pointing out its implications: that neglecting the interests of the local people cannot be accepted as a short-term effect of conflict intervention, as discontent, marginalization and poverty are in many cases at the root of intrastate conflicts, and neglecting to address these, opting instead for surface-level political re-organization, is not conducive to effective long-term peace-building programs, as exemplified by East Timor.32 Apart from the fact that the UN’s role in East Timor was characterized by tactical errors stemming from a lack of understanding of the local situation and an emphasis on international security rather than local human security, it was also largely shaped by the political directives of the United States rather than the needs of the East Timorese people.33 As James Orbinski points out, “the United States and its allies use humanitarian assistance as a political tool”, and as a consequence, humanitarian intervention in state conflicts is not always in the best interest of the local people or conducive to long-term peace-building.34 In the case of East Timor, UN-mandated intervention was indeed strongly influenced by US foreign policy.35 This not only interfered with a peaceful transition to independence, but in the long-term also hindered East Timorese economic and human development following independence. Since the annexation of East Timor by Indonesia in 1975, after the end of Portuguese colonial rule, the international community, most notably the United States, hesitated to condemn Indonesia’s actions in East Timor, and instead adopted a tolerant approach, as the Indonesian president Suharto’s anti-communist ideology was favourable to the US in light of the Cold War. Moreover, East Timor’s geographical position just south of the Ombai-Wetar Strait, a common route for US nuclear submarines, provided a strategic corner of stability in a region that otherwise threatened to fall to communism.36 The implications of US support for Suharto include the fact the East Timorese population became increasingly marginalized as a result of Suharto’s authority, as he was then able to exploit the growing international recognition of his legitimacy.37 Notably, the role of local and regional leaders brings up a further argument against the liberal peace-building approach mentioned earlier, in the sense that the political reforms that are part of liberal state-building usually require some level of mediation with key local political figures, which may legitimize unpopular local leaders or cause the disproportionate concentration of political power

among a small group of politicians that may not act in the interests of the target population.38 Shifting our focus from the US and the influence of its political interests on UN policies in East Timor, we can consider the role of another member of the international community relevant to the conflict, namely the neighbouring nation of Australia, which also significantly perpetuated Indonesia’s initial dominance of East Timor. Firstly, Australia’s economic interest in the “Timor Gap”, an area containing oil reserves and to which both Australia and East Timor claim territorial rights, was a factor in Canberra’s support for Indonesian control of East Timor. An agreement between Australia and Indonesia to develop the Timor Gap led to the signing of the Timor Gap Treaty, in which Australia officially recognized East Timor as part of Indonesia, therefore asserting the legitimacy of Indonesia’s actions in East Timor.39 Although Australia’s support gradually turned away from Jakarta, Australia, much like the UN, drew heavy criticism for supporting the 1999 ballot without taking any action to mobilize troops for the maintenance of security prior to the vote, which would have prevented extensive destruction and casualties. 40 More importantly however, Australia’s initial support for continued Indonesian occupation of East Timor had indirect future implications for the effectiveness of later UN missions in the post-conflict period, as for example the operations of UNTAET were hindered by the lack of trust and support from the local population due to Australia’s leading role in UNTAET, and the consequent uncertainty among the Timorese as to whether it was truly operating in East Timor’s best interests. 41 This again reiterates Richmond and Franks’ view that local perceptions are crucial to establishing the legitimacy of external interventions and institutions in intrastate conflict. 42 In summary, in the case of East Timor, where international intervention continued for over 12 years in the time leading up to and following independence, the mismatch between the humanitarian mandate of the UN and the often-negative actual outcomes of its interventions in state conflicts is evident, 43 but what is more worthy of discussion is why this is the case. Part of the explanation for this is the realist notion that states will act primarily in their own interests, and another is the realization that the UN, regardless of its humanitarian intentions, ultimately cannot and will not disassociate its mandate from the interests of its most influential member states. 44 As a result, intervention in a country’s internal conflicts often becomes merely a political platform on which core countries take the opportunity to advance their own agendas, consequently exacerbating rather than ameliorating the conflicted country’s marginalized position on the world stage, and perpetuating its economic and developmental challenges. Interestingly however, as mentioned, it is not necessarily the case that the interests of powerful nations (and indirectly, the policies of the UN)

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10 are necessarily and exclusively detrimental to the country in which they intervene. Rather, as Newman points out, the issue is that UN intervention in intrastate conflict is usually designed to uphold international security by stabilizing a weak state, which results in a focus on superficial political processes that fail in two ways: firstly, they fail to take into account local perspectives and needs, and secondly, due to the prioritization of international security over improvements in human security, fail to eliminate the root causes of conflict or address developmental obstacles. 45 Recognizing this, the implications for further research are that interventions that are sensitive to the respective local situation must be developed. In the past, a significant barrier to this has been the lack of a reliable method of determining local needs and local perceptions of intervening agencies. Large-scale qualitative data collection in post-conflict situations is difficult, and as a result there have been limited comprehensive analyses of domestic legitimacy of foreign intervention, or in other words the level of acceptance by the local population of international intervention in their country and their recognition of the institutions and processes established by this intervention. 46 Fisk et al. demonstrate an interesting approach to closing this knowledge gap through their use of content-analysis (a computerized method for coding patterns in language data) in a case study of local perspectives and public opinion on international intervention in the East Timorese conflict. Assessing the perceived involvement of the local population in the re-building process, Fisk et al. found that the East Timorese population generally felt they had little ability to influence the reconstruction process and that they did not feel UN interventions demonstrated accountability to their needs, which, as mentioned with the examples of UNAET, UNMIT and the PNTL, significantly compromised the legitimacy and effectiveness of UN missions in the country. 47,48 A limitation of Fisk’s methodology however is the fact that it relies on existing text-based media for the extraction of qualitative data, which, particularly in low-resource and post-conflict settings where written forms of media are less ubiquitous and the average literacy rate of the local population is low, may not be a fully representative source of information. 49 Conclusively, what has contributed to the failure of international interventions in intrastate conflict to establish a lasting peace has been to some extent the tendency of influential regional or global powers to act in their own economic, ideological or geopolitical interests, with little understanding or regard for local consequences.50 More interestingly however, even organizations with a humanitarian mandate, such as the UN, which normatively should intervene with more beneficial intentions and unbiased programs, interventions are still often not conducive to long-term peace and development, as contemporary liberal “peace-building” takes a state-building approach that focuses on superficial

political reforms instead of addressing the underlying social, ethnic or poverty-related sources of conflict in order to enable advances in human development and the growth of a lasting peace. In summary, Newman makes the case that only where there is sufficient human security and welfare can there be political stability in the long-term.51 The implications of this argument and the empirical evidence of the failure of humanitarian intervention in East Timor suggest that models for future international intervention in intrastate conflict must be informed by local perspectives, values and needs, political and cultural circumstances, and prevalent developmental obstacles.52 Additionally, multiple scholars have highlighted the importance of local participation in the peace-building process as a means of strengthening the legitimacy and consequent effectiveness of transitional institutions and intervention programs.53,54 As Fisk et al. point out, more accurate methods of determining and analyzing the needs and perspectives of the local populous in the conflicted state regarding external intervention are therefore required,55 and only if these are appropriately applied to designing and implementing need-based interventions with an emphasis on long-term local human security rather than short-term international security will we see humanitarian interventions that actually fulfill their “humanitarian” mandates.56

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11 Works Cited: Andersen, Louise Riis, and Peter Emil Engedal. “Blue Helmets and Grey Zones: Do UN Multidimensional Peace Operations Work?” Danish Institute for International Studies 29 (2013).

Fisk, Kylie et al. “Using Computer-Aided Content Analysis to Map a Research Domain A Case Study of Institutional Legitimacy in Postconflict East Timor.” Sage Open Journal (2012): 1-15.

Gizelis, Theodora-Ismene, and Kristin E. Kosek. “Why Humanitarian Interventions Succeed or Fail: The Role of Local Participation.” Cooperation and Conflict: Journal of the Nordic International Studies Association 40, no. 4 (2005): 363–383.

Gnamo, Abbas. “Humanitarian Intervention and Peace-building in Post-conflict Situations.” Lecture at the University of Toronto, Toronto, ON, July 9, 2015. Narasimhan, Madhu. “The World’s Youngest Failed State”. Foreign Affairs, August 2014. Newman, Edward. “A Human Security Peace-building Agenda.” Third World Quarterly 32, no. 10 (2011): 1737-1756.

Newman, Edward, Roland Paris, and Oliver Richmond. New Perspectives on Liberal Peace-Building. Tokyo: United Nations University Press, 2009.

Orbinski, James. An Imperfect Offering: Humanitarian Action in the Twenty-first Century. Toronto: Doubleday Canada, 2008.

Richmond, Oliver P., and Jason Franks. “Liberal Peace-building in Timor Leste: The Emperor’s New Clothes?” International Peacekeeping 15, no. 2 (2008): 185-200.

Svoboda, Eva, and Eleanor Davey. “The search for common ground Police: protection and coordination in Timor-Leste.” Overseas Development Institute (2013). Van Arsedale, Peter, and Regina Nockerts. “A Theory of Obligation.” The Journal of Humanitarian Assistance. (2008). Wedgwood, Ruth. “East Timor and the United Nations.” Columbia International Affairs Online. (2001).

Wheeler, Nicholas J., and Tim Dunne. “East Timor and The New Humanitarian Interventionism”. International Affairs 77, no. 4 (2001): 805-827.

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12 Endnotes: 1.James Orbinski, An Imperfect Offering: Humanitarian Action in the Twenty-first Century (Toronto: Doubleday Canada, 2008). 2.Edward Newman, “A Human Security Peace-building Agenda,” Third World Quarterly 32, no. 10 (2011): 1737-1756. 3.Abbas Gnamo, “Humanitarian Intervention and Peace-building in Post-conflict Situations” (lecture, University of Toronto, Toronto, ON, July 9, 2015). 4.Van Arsedale, Peter, and Regina Nockerts, “A Theory of Obligation,” The Journal of Humanitarian Assistance (2008). 5.Abbas Gnamo, “Humanitarian Intervention and Peace-building in Post-conflict Situations” (lecture, University of Toronto, Toronto, ON, July 9, 2015). 6.Edward Newman, “A Human Security Peace-building Agenda,” Third World Quarterly 32, no. 10 (2011): 1737-1756. 7.Edward Newman, Roland Paris and Oliver Richmond, New Perspectives on Liberal Peace-Building (Tokyo: United Nations University Press, 2009). 8.Edward Newman, “A Human Security Peace-building Agenda,” Third World Quarterly 32, no. 10 (2011): 1737-1756. 9.Ibid. 10.Ruth Wedgwood, “East Timor and the United Nations,” Columbia International Affairs Online (2001). 11.Ibid. 12.Ibid. 13.Louise Riis Andersen and Peter Emil Engedal, “Blue Helmets and Grey Zones: Do UN Multidimensional Peace Operations Work?” Danish Institute for International Studies 29 (2013). 14.Ruth Wedgwood, “East Timor and the United Nations,” Columbia International Affairs Online (2001). 15.Ibid. 16.Ibid. 17.Edward Newman, “A Human Security Peace-building Agenda,” Third World Quarterly 32, no. 10 (2011): 1737-1756. 18.Ruth Wedgwood, “East Timor and the United Nations,” Columbia International Affairs Online (2001). 19.Ibid. 20.Ibid. 21.Madhu Narasimhan, “The World’s Youngest Failed State,” Foreign Affairs, August 2014. 22.Edward Newman, “A Human Security Peace-building Agenda,” Third World Quarterly 32, no. 10 (2011): 1737-1756. 23.Ibid. 24.Ibid. 25.Eva Svoboda and Eleanor Davey, “The search for common ground Police: protection and coordination in Timor-Leste,” Overseas Development Institute (2013). 26.Ibid. 27.Louise Riis Andersen and Peter Emil Engedal, “Blue Helmets and Grey Zones: Do UN Multidimensional Peace Operations Work?” Danish Institute for International Studies

29 (2013). 28.Oliver P. Richmond and Jason Franks, “Liberal Peace-building in Timor Leste: The Emperor’s New Clothes?” International Peacekeeping 15, no. 2 (2008): 185-200. 29.Theodora-Ismene Gizelis and Kristin E. Kosek, “Why Humanitarian Interventions Succeed or Fail: The Role of Local Participation,” Cooperation and Conflict: Journal of the Nordic International Studies Association 40, no. 4 (2005): 363–383. 30.Louise Riis Andersen and Peter Emil Engedal, “Blue Helmets and Grey Zones: Do UN Multidimensional Peace Operations Work?” Danish Institute for International Studies 29 (2013). 31.Ibid. 32.Edward Newman, “A Human Security Peace-building Agenda,” Third World Quarterly 32, no. 10 (2011): 1737-1756. 33.Ruth Wedgwood, “East Timor and the United Nations,” Columbia International Affairs Online (2001). 34.James Orbinski, An Imperfect Offering: Humanitarian Action in the Twenty-first Century (Toronto: Doubleday Canada, 2008). 35.Ruth Wedgwood, “East Timor and the United Nations,” Columbia International Affairs Online (2001). 36.Ibid. 37.Ibid. 38.Edward Newman, “A Human Security Peace-building Agenda,” Third World Quarterly 32, no. 10 (2011): 1737-1756. 39.Ruth Wedgwood, “East Timor and the United Nations,” Columbia International Affairs Online (2001). 40.Nicholas J. Wheeler and Tim Dunne, “East Timor and The New Humanitarian Interventionism,” International Affairs 77, no. 4 (2001): 805-827. 41.Kylie Fisk et al. “Using Computer-Aided Content Analysis to Map a Research Domain: A Case Study of Institutional Legitimacy in Postconflict East Timor,” Sage Open Journal (2012): 1-15. 42.Oliver P. Richmond and Jason Franks, “Liberal Peace-building in Timor Leste: The Emperor’s New Clothes?” International Peacekeeping 15, no. 2 (2008): 185-200. 43.Eva Svoboda and Eleanor Davey, “The search for common ground Police: protection and coordination in Timor-Leste,” Overseas Development Institute (2013). 44.Ruth Wedgwood, “East Timor and the United Nations,” Columbia International Affairs Online (2001). 45.Edward Newman, “A Human Security Peace-building Agenda,” Third World Quarterly 32, no. 10 (2011): 1737-1756. 46.Kylie Fisk et al. “Using Computer-Aided Content Analysis to Map a Research Domain: A Case Study of Institutional Legitimacy in Postconflict East Timor,” Sage Open Journal (2012): 1-15. 47.Eva Svoboda and Eleanor Davey, “The search for common ground Police: protection and coordination in Timor-Leste,” Overseas Development Institute (2013).

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13 48.Kylie Fisk et al. “Using Computer-Aided Content Analysis to Map a Research Domain: A Case Study of Institutional Legitimacy in Postconflict East Timor,” Sage Open Journal (2012): 1-15. 49.Ibid. 50.James Orbinski, An Imperfect Offering: Humanitarian Action in the Twenty-first Century (Toronto: Doubleday Canada, 2008). 51.Edward Newman, “A Human Security Peace-building Agenda,” Third World Quarterly 32, no. 10 (2011): 1737-1756. 52.Kylie Fisk et al. “Using Computer-Aided Content Analysis to Map a Research Domain: A Case Study of Institutional Legitimacy in Postconflict East Timor,” Sage Open Journal (2012): 1-15. 53.Oliver P. Richmond and Jason Franks, “Liberal Peace-building in Timor Leste: The Emperor’s New Clothes?” International Peacekeeping 15, no. 2 (2008): 185-200. 54.Theodora-Ismene Gizelis and Kristin E. Kosek, “Why Humanitarian Interventions Succeed or Fail: The Role of Local Participation,” Cooperation and Conflict: Journal of the Nordic International Studies Association 40, no. 4 (2005): 363–383. 55.Kylie Fisk et al. “Using Computer-Aided Content Analysis to Map a Research Domain: A Case Study of Institutional Legitimacy in Postconflict East Timor,” Sage Open Journal (2012): 1-15. 56.Edward Newman, “A Human Security Peace-building Agenda,” Third World Quarterly 32, no. 10 (2011): 1737-1756.

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Preventing Conflict-Related Sexual Violence Against Women In The Democratic Republic Of The Congo B Y C H A R L O T T E C O N N O L LY

T

he purpose of this policy report is to draw attention to the widespread sexual violence1 suffered by Congolese women in conflict, and to present policy options to address this issue. Two common misperceptions about sexual violence in conflict are that it is an inevitable byproduct of war and primarily a women’s issue.2 However, as this report will describe, sexual violence is a method of warfare used by armed groups3 and is a significant threat to international peace and security. Despite being a weapon of war, sexual violence is immune to ceasefire monitoring, conventional peacekeeping tactics, and demobilization, disintegration, and reintegration programs. The policy recommendations presented in this paper are intended to generate more effective peacekeeping practices on the ground which advance women’s protection and overall mission success. Preventing conflict-related sexual violence requires a change in the prevailing culture within the DRC’s4 security sector institutions, as well as the introduction of new training programs

The Nature of Conflict-Related Sexual Violence in the DRC Although the war in the DRC officially ended in 2003, violent conflict between remaining Hutu and Tutsi rebels in the Eastern DRC continues to finance their activities by shipping vast mineral resources such as coltan, gold, and diamonds for export. As a consequence and tactic of this continuing conflict, tens of thousands of women and girls have suffered brutal acts of sexual violence, of which rape is only one form.5 The prevalence and severity of all forms of sexual violence has led UN observers and humanitarian workers to call the DRC the “rape capital of the world”6 and “the worst place in the world to be a woman”.7 In 2008, United Nations Fund for Population Activities (UNFPA) registered 15,996 new cases of sexual violence.8 In the eastern provinces of North and South Kivu alone, there were 7,703 cases(see appendix A).9 Foreign militias and the Congolese army have committed gang rapes, rapes leading to severe injuries and death, and have also abducted women and girls and used them as sex slaves.10

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15 Many of the crimes committed amount to war crimes and crimes against humanity as defined by Congolese law 11 , as well as the Geneva Conventions and the Rome Statue,12 to which the DRC is a party. Widespread and systematic sexual violence has now been recognized by international law as a weapon of war, as well as a threat to international peace and security.13 In the DRC, the strategic use of sexual violence by armed groups has been described as “sexual terrorism”, used to intimidate, humiliate, and torture populations, in effect eroding traditional social structures and allowing armed groups to subjugate populations and exert control over mineral-rich territories.14 The global demand for Congolese minerals provides the national army and militias an economic incentive to maintain destabilization so that they can illegally access these resources.15 Moreover, without sufficient income, armed groups loot villages and plunder mines, forcefully displacing populations from their communities and contributing to the destabilization and disintegration of the state. For example, abuses against civilian peaked when the 14th brigade of the FARDC16 was without provisions in Kabare, South Kivu between January and August 2008.17 Furthermore, rebel commanders and spoilers who seek to disrupt the implementation of peace agreements often use sexual violence to gain power and influence at the negotiating table. Charles Taylor, the former commander of the Congrès National pour la Défense du Peuple (CNDP), a local rebel group, stated: “sexual violence was our big weapon…we did it as a way of provoking the Congolese government. Sexual violence led to the government wanting to negotiate with us.”18 In the DRC, civilian populations are the target and the prize, with women’s bodies as the battleground. Data collection from Panzi Hospital in Bukavu finds that sexually assaulted victims are 4 or 5 times as numerous as wounded soldiers,19 revealing the widespread use of rape over traditional weapons as well as the increasing interface between civilians and soldiers in contemporary conflict. Moreover, the lack of repercussions contributes to the prevalence of rape as a war tactic of choice, fueling a culture of sexual predation.20

Conflict-Related Sexual Violence’s Immunity to Ceasefire Monitoring, the DDR process, and Peacekeeping Sexual violence as weapon of war is resistant to ceasefire monitoring, the Disarmament, Demobilization, Reintegration (DDR)21 process, and conventional peacekeeping tactics. In the 2008 peace agreement between the government and rebel groups, the phrase sexual violence does not appear once.22 Armed groups can claim they are adhering to peace agreements while committing sexual violence crimes, destabilizing the security situation and prolonging the conflict. With regards to DDR programs, soldiers from armed opposition units responsible for committing acts of sexual

violence are being assimilated into the national armed forces without credible vetting processes.23 In fact, the government army, the FARDC, is one of the main perpetrators of sexual violence. MONUC found that FARDC soldiers committed 54% of all sexual violence cases reported in the first 6 months of 2007.24 Commanders frequently fall to stop sexual violence and may be themselves guilty of war crimes or crimes against humanity. The failure to address gaps in ceasefire agreements and DDR programs as well as abuses by the FARDC creates a climate of insecurity and undermines the integrity of nascent government institutions and efforts to reinstate the rule of law. Conflict-related sexual violence is a challenging security issue for peacekeepers as it has a distinct characteristic that makes it resistant to conventional military tactics. Troops are trained to react to the show or use of force, however violations occur in places not routinely patrolled by peacekeepers, often within homes or isolated areas such as forests. In this context, peacekeepers are not necessarily equipped to respond to sexual violence, even when it is an act of war and a destabilizing factor.25 Moreover, there is an absence of reliable data on trends, common context of attack, or profiles of perpetrators, in part because survivors are often too ashamed or fearful to report incidents.

UN Peacekeeping: Protecting Women and Girls Resolution 1856 provides MONUSCO26 with an explicit and robust mandate to prevent and respond to sexual violence as part of the broader responsibility to protect civilians under imminent threat of physical violence.27 However, MONUSCO has largely failed to implement its mandate of protecting women and girls from conflict-related sexual violence. For example, in August 2010, rebel soldiers raped approximately 500 civilians in the Walikale region for four days before help arrived, even though villages were 20km away from a camp of UN peacekeepers.28 Although there are multiple explanations for the mission’s failure, the lack of systematized, practical tactics and responses to sexual violence explains in large part the inability of peacekeepers to operationalize their mandate. There are rarely specific measures in place to anticipate and avert predictable risks such as rape as reprisal attack. Troops from contributing countries are rarely equipped with scenario-based training to address sexual violence. There is no incentive structure that can encourage proactive protection and preparedness.

Security Sector Reform: Preventing Conflict-Related Sexual Violence The government, multilateral and bilateral donors,

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16 and NGOs29 have taken specific measures to deal with the national army’s poor human rights record, as part of the broader security reform.30 Since 2007, MONUSCO has been able to provide a unified army training and capacity building31 programme, of which training on international humanitarian law, the prohibition of sexual violence, and the prevention of gender-based violence is only one component. With the exception of this initiative, there is a fragmentation among donors, which has hindered the establishment of an accountable and efficient FARDC. Training has reflected different nations and organizations approaches to military training and doctrine. In 2004, A SSR Coordination Committee was established by the International Committee for the Accompaniment of the Transition, with MONUC subsuming the ‘coordinating’ role. However, parallel coordination initiatives exist such as the EU’s Assistance Mission for Security Sector Reform (EUSEC), established by western donors32, with MONUC and the World Bank as observers. The presence of multiple coordinating mechanisms prevents the establishment of a consolidated, coherent effort, and weakened overall SSR. The DRC government prefers this framework as it allows them to deal bilaterally with countries and extract more funding from each initiative. It also alleviates pressure on the government to conform to certain standards.33 In 2003, the National Commission for Demobilization and Reinsertion and MONUSCO implemented the DDR programme.34 Serious gaps and deficiencies exist within the DDR process that affect the army’s the army’s capability to respect and enforce human rights standards. Some soldiers pay allegiance to only one commander while others disobey higher-ranking officers who previously fought for an opposing group. Other political leaders will not commit their troops to integration for fear that the peace process will not benefit them. Moreover, soldiers responsible for grave human abuses are integrated into FARDC without any vetting. Those with known records of human rights abuses, including rape, are promoted into senior command positions.35 Competing visions of SSR in the government and a lack of coordination among donors has hindered the establishment of a vetting mechanism in the army to exclude individuals who lack integrity regarding human rights.

Policy Recommendations This paper focuses on two preventive strategies designed to contain and deter this destructive weapon: an effective security response by peacekeepers and national army reform. Improvements in these sectors will contribute to building trust and confidence amongst civilian populations. In each of these areas there are significant gaps in existing policy frameworks.

Peacekeeping Reform Sexual violence is not an inevitable by-product of war. There are responses by peacekeeping personnel to combat sexual violence as strategy and weapon of war, and practical methods by which peacekeepers, as well as military and civilian authorities, can protect women more effectively. The insecurity perpetuated by sexual violence needs to be addressed by peacekeepers from a strategic and tactical level, starting from an understanding of the nature of the conflict. Peacekeeping troops must understand that preventing sexual violence is not simply a “women’s issue”, but a component of their mandate that can enhance situational awareness and therefore enhance protection and mission success.36 As an extension of this increased awareness, diplomatic pressure from MONUSCO and international partners is needed in future peace negotiations to ensure provisions for the cessation of sexual violence are included in ceasefires and agreements, in effect denying groups the license to loot and rape.37 In addition to educating troops on normative content about sex and gender, training should be more practical and equip peacekeepers with the knowledge of how to address patterns of systematic sexual violence in theatre. In the DRC, it is necessary to replace improvised, ad-hoc peacekeeping practices with systematic responses to conflict-related sexual violence. Institutionalizing response measures can include creating a standard schedule of patrols during water or firewood collection that can help manage community expectations and maximize the use of military resources. In addition, peacekeepers must be willing to patrol and operate in unconventional areas (in proximity to villages, IDP camps, forests, and fields) in response to an unconventional and concealed threat. Women interviewed in the DRC noted that military peacekeepers generally remained in their vehicle on main roads, stating, “They are not in the places where we women are not safe”.38 Increasing peacekeeping presence at roadblocks, borders, mining areas, and trade arteries where sexual violence is prevalent is also critical. Changing operational approaches on the ground will require operational scenario-based pre-deployment and in mission training as well as adequate resources such as transportation to meet civilian protection needs, night vision goggles, and rapid reaction capacity. These measures can prepare the force to confront brutal sexual violence as part of the arsenal of armed groups.

Security Sector Reform While crucial frameworks such as the Comprehensive Strategy have been planned, they have yet to be implemented as official government policy. The government’s focus on

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17 military reform as the integration of different forces has excluded essential elements such as establishing structures, accountability, oversight and vetting. Firstly, a vetting mechanism must be established to ensure that the rebels of armed groups being integrated into the national army are not accused perpetrators of sexual violence. This will strengthen the discipline of the army and limit the continued abuse of women and girls. Secondly, training will only be effective is it is embedded within a wider program of improved command and control, with internal and external oversight mechanisms. Commanders have an obligation to enforce compliance with international humanitarian law and to prevent sexual violence. If they fail to do so, there must be punitive action taken by the international community. It is likely that the government and FARDC will be resistant to institutional reform and the implementation of accountability structures. For this reason, MONUSCO, the EU, UN agencies such as UNHCR, and international bilateral donors should provide funding and technical assistance in order to implement these initiatives, while the Security Council can adopt targeted measures, including an arms embargo, if the FARDC fails to address sexual violence committed by its members. Individual measures such as travel bans, asset freezes, exclusion from governance structures should also be taken against commanders responsible for committing crimes.

Conclusion This report looks at abuses of sexual violence committed by the armed groups in the DRC and assesses efforts to stop it. With an understanding of why such efforts have failed, this report provides policy recommendations to effectively prevent conflict-related sexual violence. Humanitarian interventions need to be based on a vision of building an environment that protects women and girls. National security, too, must be centered on a doctrine of human rights. In order to operationalize our international legal obligations to prevent sexual violence and improve women’s security, we need to continue to develop practical and implementable security policies.

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18 Endnotes:

1.This term refers to sexual violence perpetrated during

armed conflict 2.Letita Anderson, Florence Holst-Roness and Charlotte Lindsey-Curtet, Addressing the Needs of Women Affected by Armed Conflict (Geneva, CH: IRIC, 2004), http://www.unicef. org/emerg/files/ICRC_women_war.pdf, p. 25 3.Armed groups includes the national army (the FARDC) as well as the various rebel groups operating in the country such as the CNDP, M23, FDLR, LRA, and the Mai Mai (local defense groups). 4.Democratic Republic of the Congo. 5.It is insufficient to understand sexual violence solely as rape. It also encompasses sexual slavery, forced impregnation, indecent assault, forced incest, forced termination of pregnancy. In the DRC, women are often raped publicly, in front of family members, and with foreign objects such as guns and knives. 6.“UN official calls DRC ‘rape capital of the world,’” BBC, April, 28, 2010, http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/8650112.stm. 7.“Congo ‘worst place’ to be woman or child,” CTV.ca, November 12, 2008, http://www.ctv.ca/servlet/ArticleNews/ s t or y/C T V New s/2 0 0 81 1 1 2 /c on go_r ef u ge e s_0 81 1 1 2?s_ name=&no_ads=. 8.The data collected on incidents of sexual violence often grossly underestimates actual levels. Statistics are based on information from the police, judiciary, and from agencies providing services to victims, such as legal or medical assistance. However, there are countless women who are unable or too fearful to seek assistance or report rape due to shame, fear of reprisal and/or social stigma. Others are murdered or commit suicide. 9.“Cas Incidents de Violences Sexuelles Enregistrés Entre Janvier et Juin 2009,”UNFPA, (September 9, 2009), http:// monusco.unmissions.org/LinkClick.aspx?fileticket=uxHuxD xD4SI%3d&tabid=10818&mid=13844&language=en-US, p.7. 10.“The War Within The War: Sexual Violence Against Women and Girls in Eastern Congo,” Human Rights Watch, accessed February 1, 2013, http://www.hrw.org/sites/default/files/ reports/congo0602.pdf. 11.Article 15 of the DRC Constitution states that: “public authorities are response for the elimination of sexual violence used as an instrument in the destabilization and displacement of families. International treaties and agreements notwithstanding, any sexual violence committed against any person with the intention to destabilize or displace a family and to make a whole people disappear is established as a crime against humanity punishable by law”. 12.International Human Rights and Humanitarian Law as derived from the Four Geneva Conventions which prohibit the use of sexual violence by state and non-state armed groups against civilians. 13.In June 2008, the Security Council adopted resolution 1820

recognizing widespread and systematic sexual violence as an international threat to peace and security. It called for a system-wide security response, emphasizing the need to equip and train peacekeepers to protect civilians from sexual violence. “Security Council Resolution 1820,”United Nations, ( June 19, 2008), Accessed February 1, 2013. http://daccess-dds ny.un.org/doc/UNDOC/GEN/N08/391/4 4/PDF/N083914 4 . pdf?OpenElement, p.1. 14.Sexual violence tears apart social and family fabrics. Women who have suffered sexual violence are often rejected by their families and communities. Some have been forced to watch family members get raped while others have been force to rape their own family members. This has profound long-term psychological and physical impact on entire communities, but particularly women, who are often no longer able to bear children. See: Maria W. Baaz and Maria Stern, The Complexity of Violence: A Critical Analysis of Sexual Violence in the DRC (Uppsala, SE: Sida, 2010), 3. 15.“’Faced With a Gun, What Can You Do?’ War and the Militarization of Mining in Eastern Congo,” Global Witness, ( July 2009), http://www.globalwitness.org/sites/default/files/ pdfs/report_en_final_0.pdf, 5. 16.Forces Armées de la République Démocratique du Congo 17.“Soldiers Who Rape, Commanders Who Condone,” Human Rights Watch ( July 7, 2009), http://www.hrw.org/sites/default/ files/reports/drc0709web.pdf, 27. 18.Rosenberg, Jennifer. “’Weapon of War: Confessions of Rape in Congo’.” (2010), Accessed February 15, 2013. http://www. weaponofwar.nl/presskititems/Weapon%20of %20War%20 -%20%20A%20Step%20in%20the%20Right%20Direction%20 -%20Final.pdf, 2. 19.Mukwege D. Mukengere and Cathy Nangini, “Rape With Extreme Violence: The New Pathology in South Kivu, DRC,” PLoS Med 6, no.12 (December 22, 2009): 3, doi: 10.1371/journal. pmed.1000204. 20.“Addressing Conflict-Related Sexual Violence: Analytical Inventory of Peacekeeping Practice,” UN Women, UNDPKO, UN Stop Rape Now, ( June 2010), http://www.unifem. org /at t ach ment s/produc t s/A n a ly t ic a l_I nvent or y_of_ Peacekeeping_Practice_online.pdf, 6. 21.Established by MONUC in 2004 to address the foreign forces in the DRC. Although the process of DDR is voluntary, the FARDC and MONUC have used force to disarm and demobilize foreign forces. 22.Robin Baumgarten, “Power to Women and Girls: Ending Sexual Violence in the Congo,” Sister Namibia 20, no. 4 (October, 2008), 15. 23.Nicola Dahrendorf, “MONUC and the Relevance of Coherent Mandates: The Case of the DRC,” DCAF (May 2008), 38. 24.“Soldiers Who Rape, Commanders Who Condone,” Human Rights Watch ( July 7, 2009), http://www.hrw.org/sites/default/ files/reports/drc0709web.pdf, 21. 25.“Women Targeted or Affected by Armed Conflict: What

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19 Role for Military Peacekeepers?” UNIFEM, (May 27, 2008), http://www.unifem.org/attachments/products/0501_WomenTargetedOrAffectedByArmedConflict_en.pdf, 2. 26.The UN peacekeeping mission MONUC was established in 1999. It was renamed the United Nations Organization Stabilization Mission in the DRC (MONUSCO) to reflect the new phase reached in the country. The UN peacekeeping force receives the largest budget of any peacekeeping mission at an annual budget of $650 million dollars. The mission includes 19,575 total personnel, including 15,197 troops, 1724 military observers, and 811 international civilian personnel as well as 1,373 local civilian staff and 470 UN volunteers. “MONUSCO Background,” United Nations, http://www.un.org/en/ peacekeeping/missions/monsco/background.shtml. 27.“Security Council Resolution 1856,” United Nations, (December 22, 2008): 1-9, http://www.securitycounci l repor t .org /at f /cf /%7B65BfCF9B- 6D27-$@ 9C-8DC3CF6E4F6E4FF96FF9%7D/DRS%20SRES%201856.pdf. 28.Robin Baumgarten, “Power to Women and Girls: Ending Sexual Violence in the Congo,” Sister Namibia n.s. 20, no. 4 (October, 2008), 15. 29.Actors involved in military reform include the EU, MONUSCO, UNHCR, ICIR, Eastern Congo Initiative (coalition of civil society organizations), Angola, South Africa, Belgium, the Netherlands, China and the United States. 30.For the purpose of this paper, security sector reform encompasses a transformation of the army in terms of their roles, responsibilities, and actions. The objective is to build a ‘legitimate’ army that respects international humanitarian law and is accountable to its population for the provision of security and rule of law. See: Eirin Mobekk, “Security Sector Reform and the UN Mission in the DRC: Protecting Civilians in the East,” International Peacekeeping 16, no.2 (April 27, 2009), doi: 10.1080/13533310802685844, 273. 31.Capacity building entails strengthening operational and technical capabilities. It is a three-month basic skills training for each integrated brigade. 32.US, France, Netherlands, UK, EU, Angola, and South Africa. 33.Mobekk, Eirin. “Security Sector Reform and the UN Mission in the DRC: Protecting Civilians in the East.” International Peacekeeping 16, no.2 (April 27, 2009): doi: 10.1080/13533310802685844, 280. 34.Training is done within orientation centers or by mobile teams. Combatants are ‘sensitized’, they are given the choice of demobilizing or becoming part of the army 35.“Soldiers Who Rape, Commanders Who Condone,” Human Rights Watch, ( July 7, 2009), http://www.hrw.org/sites/ default/files/reports/drc0709web.pdf, 11. 36“Women Targeted or Affected by Armed Conflict: What Role for Military Peacekeepers?” UNIFEM, (May 27, 2008) http:// www.unifem.org/attachments/products/0501_WomenTargetedOrAffectedByArmedConflict_en.pdf, 2. 37.“Women Targeted or Affected by Armed Conflict: What Role

for Military Peacekeepers?” UNIFEM, (May 27, 2008) http:// www.unifem.org/attachments/products/0501_WomenTargetedOrAffectedByArmedConflict_en.pdf, 7 38.“Addressing Conflict-Related Sexual Violence: Analytical Inventory of Peacekeeping Practice,” UN Women, UNDPKO, UN Stop Rape Now. ( June 2010) http://www.unifem. org /at t ach ment s/produc t s/A n a ly t ic a l_I nvent or y_of_ Peacekeeping_Practice_online.pdf, 16.

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20

The Negligence Of Universalism: Romani Marginalization In The Finnish Welfare State BY E K ATE R I N A M IZRO K H I

“The beggars are something that do not correspond to the image of this society…”1 Abstract Finland has a longstanding history of Roma2 migrants, however the most recent wave of Roma people appears to be less successful at integrating into Finnish society than their historic Kaale counterparts. Finland is widely referenced as one of the most successful welfare state models, which strives to engage, support and unify all tiers of society. By means of the profound forces of globalization taking place on the continent, Europe continues to be challenged by its internally open borders, sparking significant migration amongst the member states. Through a literature review of geographic and sociological scholarly sources, this paper will explore the history of Roma migration to Finland, including how they settled in Helsinki, what their livelihood and prospects of integration are like, and the main issues which plague the community. Additionally, this paper will analyse the place that Roma migrants occupy in Finnish society and how they fit into the conceptualization of universal citizenship, exploring the exclusive nature of the Finnish welfare system based on a limited notion of citizenship. The universalist paradigm of the Finnish welfare state overlooks crucial cultural nuances that are necessary for profound empowerment of the marginalized group. Universalist policies act as a barrier to Roma integration because a ‘one size fits all model’ excludes the polarities of culture and existence, to which the Roma belong. Regardless, the Finnish state has made significant efforts to aid the Roma people in with their integration into mainstream society.

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21 Introduction:

F

inland has a longstanding history of Roma migrants dating back to the 16th century, however, the most recent wave of Roma who started to appear in 2008 have been far less successful at integrating into Finnish society. This paper will explore why and how Roma migrants came to Finland, what their place in society is, and critically analyze how the Finnish welfare state is responding to the issues of poverty, stigmatization, discrimination and marginalization, which plague Roma communities. The Roma represent a divergence from Finnish norms, however, the problems they face are much more than simply products of cultural incompatibility. In fact, they are indicative of a core problem within the welfare state: the fact that universalism disregards the many dimensions of Romani identity, culture, and their nuanced needs. In light of the recent Roma Question, as it shall be referred to in this paper, the benevolent principles of the Finnish welfare state will be tested as it confronts its current notions of citizenship that overlook equity in the name of equality. With an estimated population of 12 million individuals and a diaspora spreading from the Caucasus through the Americas,3 the Roma people are far from homogenous. The European Committee of Social Rights defined the Roma as “those who choose to follow an itinerant lifestyle or who are forced to do so”4 , usually on the grounds of extreme poverty or social exclusion. The widely accepted theory among scholars is that the Roma originated in the Punjab area of the Indian subcontinent, emigrating in small groups over a prolonged period of time, spreading through Central and Western Asia and Europe.5 It is most commonly proposed that the Roma arrived in Europe around 1000 AD, continuing their nomadic lifestyle in search of a favourable social, political and economic environment.6 Instead, what they encountered was deeply ingrained intolerance: for example, at least half a million Roma were killed during the Holocaust in Nazi Germany, they were once barred from entering Sweden, and Romani children were taken from their parents and given to non-Roma to raise in Switzerland.7 The history of the Roma in Europe demonstrates how the Roma have been, and continue to be, in severely underprivileged positions across the continent. In the case of Finland, most of the Romani population arrived via Sweden during the 16th century, although many were deported back until 1809, when Finland became the Russian Grand Duchy of Finland.8 Those who have remained are said to be the ancestors of the present day Finnish Roma – the Kaale. Following Finland’s independence in 1917, all Kaale people were granted full citizenship and rights; however, that is not to say that they were free from marginalization or ethnic discrimination. The Kaale are still

treated with suspicion and open hostility by the majority of the population, and are subject to systematic mistreatment by the Finnish police.9 Earlier, the only institutional aid the Kaale received was from a handful of religious institutions but by 1975, Finnish municipalities were obliged to bring the housing conditions of the Roma population to an acceptable level, and by 1979 the Finnish Board of Professional Education arranged regular professional, literacy and cultural courses for the Roma.10 Now, the 10 000 Kaale in Finland11 are active participants in politico-cultural organizations, music, and the arts, making up a new class of “Roma [relative] elites.”12 While the Kaale represent a classic case of the naturalization of ethnic diversity and assimilation into mainstream society, the real Roma Question that jeopardizes the foundation of the welfare state refers to a recent, much more precarious wave of non-Finnish Roma migrants. According to the European Parliament, every citizen of the Union has the right to “move and reside freely within the territory of the member states.”13 As such, when Romania joined the European Union in 2006, the gates had opened for the Romanian Roma to legally reclaim their nomadic culture and spread across the continent, particularly to Western Europe. The Romanian Roma migrants became visible in Finland in 2008, through a process of circular mobility resulting from the interaction of push factors from their home country of Romania and pull factors in their destination country of Finland. Most commonly, the Roma left their home countries in Eastern Europe due to high unemployment rates, limited work opportunities, lack of social assistance, extreme poverty, social exclusion, discrimination and a high level of governmental corruption.14 It is important to note that for most of the Roma migrants, Finland was not the first country to which they migrated. In fact, most Roma migrants tried their luck in other Western and Southern European countries that were popular destinations before continuing to search for a better life elsewhere.15 One of the main pulling factors that attracted Roma migrants to Finland was the perspective of generating more income to send remittances back to their families at home. This is commonly done through channels of the grey economy like musical street performances, selling flowers and small handmade goods, and begging. As precarious as that appears to be, since there were very few migrants practicing street activities in Finland compared to their previous destinations of Italy or Spain, Finland presented itself as a new market with promising opportunities for generating income.16 The recent wave of non-Finnish Roma migrants were particularly difficult to assess in terms of their status in the country seeing as they were neither tourists, nor working migrants, nor asylum seekers.17 Additionally, many of the Roma migrants placed more faith in Finnish authorities than their corrupt Romanian counterparts, expecting the social welfare authorities in Finland to provide support in the case

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22 that the migrants would not manage to secure their basic needs.18 However, comprehensive Finnish welfare is limited to citizens and permanent residents that must be registered as full-time job seekers who meet the employment conditions and are fit to work in the labour market.19 This is problematic in the context of The Roma Question for two main reasons: the first is that, historically, the Roma are “very suspicious and sceptical”20 of official registration out of fear of stigmatization and prosecution,21 which poses a cultural and psychological barrier to legitimize their presence. The second issue is that in order to meet employment conditions, individuals must obtain a certain level of education or professional experience. However, the Roma population display “historical tendency to become excluded from both the educational system and the traditional labour market.”22 Culturally, the transitory traditional lifestyle has made it exuberantly difficult to pursue modern education, not to mention the institutionalized and internalized prejudice that make it education even more unattainable.23 60% of Finnish Roma have low or nonexistent formal education of less than four years of primary school, and 25% have not attended school at all.24 This is a significant impediment to their ability to integrate into Finnish society,25 the educational system, and the labour market beyond the “marginal sectors of the transient economy.”26 These cultural and systemic barriers not only severely limit the services that Roma migrants are eligible for, but also restrict them of the dignity they have been searching for across the continent. Even in one of the most utopian of European systems, the arbitrary, nationalistic and divisive construction of citizenship perpetuates the marginality of Europe’s perpetual outliers. Since the 1990s, the notion of ‘universal’ citizenship has been largely contested in Nordic states, bringing about a “discursive change around the idea of welfare stateism”27 including demands for the recognition of cultural, ethnic and gendered plurality that are impossible to accommodate for with the convenient blanket statement of universality. States based on mass homogeneity—whether that is in terms of culture, ethnicity or political status—struggle with the integration of minorities, because the minorities’ unique challenges and needs are outweighed by the state’s desire to maintain a universal standard. The logic of citizenship “implies exclusionary potential,”28 and the exclusionary boundaries of full citizenship are drawn around simplistic geopolitical qualifications. If we were to transcend these exclusionary oversimplifications, we can open up dialogue to more dynamic and nuanced understandings of marginalized groups such as the Roma, who are consistently framed as a problem or a victim based on their lack of adhesion to the aforementioned definition of citizenship. A trend in contemporary social justice dialogue has been the “increasing irrelevance of national citizenship as far as the entitlement to welfare benefits is concerned”29 so that citizenship may be articulated through civic duties and obligations, prior to

nationality and documentation. When claiming a legitimate citizenship position, the Roma draw on a strong civic identity, common history and nation state building, “unanimously bringing up the topic of Romani sacrifice during the [Second World] War.”30 Contemporary citizenship identity in welfare states like Finland must be constructed “through countering a hegemonic discourse on the Roma as non-working and nonparticipatory”31, as this discourse functions as a self-fulfilling prophesy. The more stigma and discrimination that is brewed against the Roma, the further they will get drawn into “the black hole of citizenship”32 where it becomes increasingly difficult and discouraging to summon the agency to actively participate in civic forums. Discrimination and prejudice not only affects the Roma politically, but it acts as yet another social barrier to their integration. In order to face the psychological effects of discrimination, exclusionary practices, and micro-aggressions in everyday encounters with the majority society, the Roma promote cultural solidarity in order to maintain the sense of a common Romani identity.33 Some Roma even go as far as to say that they “live in two cultures, the Romani and the Finnish”34 , asserting their position as a particular group next to the Finnish people but also as being part of the Finnish identity. This marks the conception of a cultural matrix of difference and disparity running parallel to the mainstream society, making integration and social sustainability of society as a whole increasingly challenging. The marginality that plagues the Roma migrants in Finland is twofold: on one hand, they are marginalized by the majority of Finnish society, particularly involving institutionalized prejudice in social, health, educational and housing services. Since it is not possible to collect data regarding ethnicity in Finland, it is difficult to quantitatively monitor the social exclusion of the Roma.35 However, in many cases, local authorities have been found guilty of not providing housing to Roma families based on ethnic discrimination.36 While on the other hand, the Roma migrants are also marginalized by the Kaale, the relative Roma “elite” of Finland.37 The austerity between the two groups is particularly prevalent among the older Kaale who do not want to associate with the Roma migrants, insisting on “[not mixing] Finnish Gypsies and beggar Gypsies, because we are totally different things”.38 The dual marginalization makes it all the more difficult for the Roma migrants to successfully integrate into contemporary Finnish society. There are, of course, cultural barriers that prove to be an additional obstacle in Roma integration. For example, the high calibre of solidarity in Roma cultures places specific familial obligations on individuals in the case of disease or death. Individuals must be prepared to leave suddenly to visit the ailing person or the next of kin of the deceased for an indefinite length of time, receiving guests at any time of day or night.39 This is a clear cultural incompatibility with

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23 Western expectations of regular work, punctuality and professional commitments. For the Roma, familial ties and obligations are more binding than the socially constructed obligations towards employers. 40 Additionally, Roma culture emphasizes holistic healthcare, and prefer for their families to care for them when sick over institutional care. The gaps in the labour market and health care system that perpetuate marginality are due to the fact that welfare state’s policy of universalism is not very universal at all, but inherently Western and capitalist. Rather than addressing the unique cultural needs and preferences of the Roma community, the universalist paradigm orientalizes the Romani culture as savage, primitive, and in need of enlightenment and development. That being said, in light of The Roma Question, the Finnish state been a “forerunner in the development of administrative structures of the policy on Roma”41, and there are a handful of initiatives aimed at alleviating the disparities faced in the Roma communities. In 1995, a constitutional amendment gave Roma [Kaale] the rights to teach their own language and culture in schools, use it as an official language of instruction and promote Romani educational objectives. 42 Also, the Government appoints the Advisory Board on Romani Affairs every three years, in which half of the members must represent the Roma population, to monitor the living conditions and integration of the Roma, while working to eliminate discrimination and inequality. 43 In 2008, Finland prepared its first National Policy on Roma to strengthen the participation of Roma in education, safeguard the Romani language and culture by developing university level research, and promoting their access to the labour market. 44 Despite the discrimination that the Roma have faced and continue to face, they themselves assert that “the welfare state has prevented the Finnish Roma from deeper poverty” acknowledging the aim to be as democratic and fair as possible. 45 When the non-Finnish Roma migrants first started arriving in Finland around 2008, the majority of them settled in Helsinki where they set up camps and squatted for shelter. Their arrival and visibly poor presence was seemingly incongruous with the Finnish context and did not “correspond to the image of the society”46 where the homeless had always been relatively well cared for. 47 A project entitled Roma on the Road was launched in 2008 by the Helsinki Deaconess Institute, which studies the lived experiences of new Roma migrants in Helsinki as well as providing acute humanitarian aid. 48 In June 2011, the police raided and purged illegal camps and squatters from the Kalasatama area of Helsinki, where most of the Roma migrants were located. That same month, following the raid, the Deaconess Institute and the City of Helsinki set up a shelter for the homeless Roma migrants in the center of the city. The shelter functions year round and offers access to basic facilities like showers, internet and electricity, a warm shelter during the winter, as well as support

when dealing with authorities and government services. 49 Volunteers, social workers and freelance academics are employed at the center, most of whom are fluent in Romanian and Bulgarian, and act as mediators between the migrants and civil society.50 In response to the incident, the Finnish Ombudsman for Minorities stressed that all individuals in Finland should be able enjoy basic human rights, “also those that are not Finnish citizens,” and that beggars should enjoy “equality of opportunity, freedom of movement and right of social security.”51 Conclusion: Despite the fairly tumultuous Romani history in Finland, which is laced with discrimination and marginalization, the Finnish welfare state has made significant progress in supporting its Roma populations, however there is still much more work to be done. It is imperative to stop viewing the Roma as a nuisance, as freeloaders, or as a blemish to European suavity. Instead, we must acknowledge the complexity of their cultural needs and identities and understand that a universal approach will not be able to penetrate centuries of systemic oppression, marginalization and disadvantage that manifest themselves as deep poverty, poor education, and precarious labour. Seeing as they still occupy one of the lowest tiers in European society, it is predictable that Roma migration will continue across the continent in search of a better life. Accordingly, the problems that plague this community must be explicitly addressed by all member states in a nuanced, responsible and proactive manner. The Roma Question will require more than simply universal service provision; their livelihood will depend upon systems that aim to empower them, all while respecting their individuality.

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24 Works Cited:

Enache, A. “The Recent Migration of the Romanian Roma to Finland”. Diaconia University of Applied Sciences (2010).

European Commission – Eurostat. “Push and Pull Factors of International Migration. A Comparative Report”. Luxemburg: Office for Official Publication of the European Communities. (2000). European Parliament. “European Union consolidated versions of the treaty on the European Union and of the treaty establishing the European Community”. Brussels: Official Journal of the European Union. Retrieved from http://eur-lex.europa.eu/LexUriServ/LexUriServ.do?uri (2006). European Union Agency for Fundamental Rights, “Memo Comparative Report - The situation of Roma EU citizens living in other Member States”. Vienna: In house production: 7-10. (2009). Manilla, S. “Immigrants and Ethnic Minorities. European Country Cases and Debates”. National Institute for Health and Welfare. ISBN 978-952-245- 393-8. (2010).

Niemela, H. “Social Security in Finland”. Kela. (2006). Retrieved from www.kela.fi/documents/12099/12170/ socialsecurity.pdf

Nordberg, C. “Claiming Citizenship: The Identity and Belonging of the Finnish Roma”. Citizenship Studies. 10(5). (2006).

Roman, R. “Trans-national migration and the issue of ‘ethnic’ solidarity: Finnish Roma elite and Eastern European Roma migrants in Finland”. Ethnicities.ol. 14(6) 793–810. (2014).

Smith, K. “Promoting Social Inclusion of Roma. A Study of National Policies - Finland”. European Commission on Employment, Social Affairs and Inclusion. (2011).

Tanner, A. “The Roma of Eastern Europe: Still Searching for Inclusion”. Migration Information. (2005). Retrieved from http://www.migrationinformation.org/ Feature/display.cfm?ID=308

Vuorela, K. “Finnish Romani”. Minority Languages in Scandinavia, Britain and Ireland. 51-76. (1998).

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26

Post-Cold War Humanitarian Intervention as a Weak International Normalism: BY MRIDVIK A SAHA JPAL

Abstract This essay seeks to demonstrate the scaling back of UNAMIR by the UN Security Council as a testament to the weakness of humanitarianism as an international norm, during the time of the Rwandan genocidal massacres in 1994.

W

hy did the United Nations (UN) Security Council scale back the United Nations Assistance Mission in Rwanda (UNAMIR) in 1994 when it received credible reports that genocidal massacres were taking place? Philip Gourevitch accurately sums up the approach: “It wasn’t a failure to act; the decision was not to act.”1 This essay identifies the scaling back of UNAMIR as a testament to the weakness of humanitarian intervention as an international norm, particularly as an induction of: the fundamentally changed international environment post-Cold War, the emergence of a non-compliance cascade of powerful states unwilling to invest resources in order to restore the norm, competing norms of sovereignty and non-intervention; moreover, and notwithstanding the arguments presented, this essay does not seek to disprove humanitarian intervention as a valid and present international norm. The scaling back of UNAMIR by the UN in 1994 exposed the limited normative power of humanitarian intervention during the fundamentally changed international environment post-Cold War. A comparison of first-generation to second-generation UN peacekeeping efforts illuminates the complexities of the post-Cold War nature of conflict. In firstgeneration—“traditional”—peacekeeping during the Cold War, conflict was generally managed between sovereign states with disciplined armed forces that not only respected the terms of the mandate and truce, but also respected and often welcomed external agents of conflict resolution.2 Furthermore, UN peacekeeping operations were generally undertaken once

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27 hostilities were resolved to an armistice or ceasefire, fitting the context of peacekeeping into a post-conflict phase.3 Thus, by virtue of mature conditions on the ground—parties preferring peace to war—peacekeeping efforts of the Cold War era were generally inexpensive and successful, with more advantages of engagement than costs. In contrast, the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991 and the proliferation of crises relating to intangibles such as religion, ethnicity, and nationalism thereafter added a dimension of acute complexity to UN peacekeeping efforts. 4 Violence came to play a greater role, involving undefined parties within fracturing states, unclear boundaries between belligerents, irregular and uncooperative forces, and constant breakdowns of truces.5 Second-generation peacekeeping took place during the conflict phase, where peacekeepers were increasingly put in danger and subject to animosity, and mandates—now expensive, complicated, and overly ambitious—systemically failed to produce results.6 Thus, a failure to produce sufficient results adversely affected the confidence of UN member states to mount these peacekeeping missions, where material costs increasingly exceeded reputational advantages. Hence, the complexities of second-generation conflicts and its implications for the UN exposes humanitarian intervention to be a weak international norm by virtue of being preceded by the self-interests of those powerful states dominating the UN. The UN itself has often been perpetuated as a multilateral institutional tool that member-states utilize in order to further their own foreign policy objectives. For instance, during the Cold War UN humanitarian operations cost nearly $4.8 billion, to which the United States actively contributed more than $1.3 billion, as well as countless personnel and technology.7 Far from altruism and obligations of membership as a rationale, the United States sought to fund those UN missions more closely aligned to its national interest of preventing the proliferation of communism.8 Multilateralism required the United States to assume a greater share of the military burden for regional security, for which it was generally willing in light of the bi-polar international context. By the mid-1990s, a United States—no longer existentially threatened—reduced its contributions to the UN from 31% to 25% of total costs,9 exacerbating the UN’s dire financial condition and further crippling its ability to mount effective peacekeeping operations during that time. Furthermore, the UN is a reflection of those members willing to make investments to execute operations. In terms of peacekeeping, the most urgent problem is the incompetence of states, as compelled by their own material interests, to pay contributions in full and on time.10 For instance, the Reserve Fund for Peacekeeping Operations was established by the UN General Assembly resolution in 1992 and was designed to furnish the UN with immediate cash in order to facilitate the launch of operations.11 Given the UN’s acute financial problems throughout the latter half of the

twentieth century, the organization quickly dipped into and depleted the fund for external purposes.12 Thus, financial and material contributions were exposed as inadequate in the post-Cold War era when the time came to employ them in complex crises zones such as in Rwanda. On extension, peacekeeping states often opted to abandon humanitarian efforts if the national interest of a particularly powerful state or the umbrella interest of many states within the UN decision-making process was not fundamentally at stake. For instance, peacekeeping endeavors in the Cold War era were often undertaken open-endedly and with full support of UN member-state populations because in their experience the engagement was generally brief, competent, and low-risk for infantry, such as in the case of the Canada and the Suez Canal 1956.13 However, due to catastrophic intervention experiences in Somalia and the Yugoslav wars, not only the United States but a number of peacekeeping states were cautious of and itching to disengage from complicated, high-risk crises zones, like Rwanda.14 Thus, the characteristic differences between two generations of peacekeeping, as attributed to a fundamentally changed international atmosphere, reflects a decline in the UN’s reflex to involve itself in conflicts with humanitarian dimensions. The fact that self-interest and national security indeed preceded the willingness of powerful states on the UN Security Council to warrant an active defense of human rights in Rwanda exposes the weakness and volatility of humanitarianism as an international norm. The weakness of humanitarian intervention as an international norm is exacerbated by a non-compliance cascade of numerous UN member-states unwilling to invest resources into protecting and restoring the norm. Nowhere is the question of whether or not to intervene as crucial as in the case of second-generation peacekeeping operations, as the risk of intervention is greater than some than for others.15 For instance, UNAMIR, as recommended by Major-General Romeo Dallaire, needed heavier weapons, full deployment of its 2548 authorized troops, an equal number of well-trained and well-supplied reinforcements, with a clear mandate giving them authority to forcibly stop killing.16 However, the United States and the United Kingdom opposed the robust mandate upon creating of UNAMIR because it would have been too expensive and too high-risk for their infantry.17 Moreover, even ‘middle powers’ such as Canada traditionally keen on participating had readjusted their course to promote practical ideas and national imperatives given their diminished resources after the end of the Cold War.18 Canadian foreign policy in terms of peacekeeping was no longer at the service of the traditional rhetoric of altruism, as it had been for decades prior. Ultimately, all but one of the Western powers were unwilling to send troops, provide airlift, or finance for an international force.19 Instead of individually or collectively criticizing inaction of those UN member-states unwilling

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28 to intervene, many actors—both powerful and not—found themselves ignoring confirmed reports of genocide within Rwanda triggering a cascade of norm non-compliance. Competing norms of state sovereignty and non-intervention further obstructed UN humanitarian intervention in Rwanda. Though human rights have been incorporated into several conventions, such as the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR), the main issue of implementation emerges in light of the inherent contradiction between a key principle expressed in the UDHR itself: sovereignty, and its implications for state acceptance.20 It was not until the late 1980s and early 1990s that the enforcement of human rights began to be valued as superior to the protection of state sovereignty, albeit the change was gradual.21 However, in many cases of human rights violations where forcible intervention appeared to be the only option to immediately save people, mandates by the UN Security Council continued to be built in such a way that used the existing norm against forcible intervention as an exit strategy tool, as demonstrated in the case of Rwanda. For instance, the initiative to downsize the force in fact came at the request of the Rwandan government and warring factions, who insisted—naturally— that the international community effort to assist Rwanda was misguided and unhelpful.22 The UN mandate thus was modified several times reflecting not only the self-interested decisions of the UN Security Council, but also the requests of non-intervention by Rwandan top officials. Notwithstanding the previous arguments, this essay does not seek to invalidate humanitarian intervention as an international norm altogether, but rather seeks to illustrate the opposite: the reframing of the Rwandan genocide as a “civil war” was to avoid the normative obligations of humanitarian intervention, confirming it as a present international norm. Specifically, UN member-states like the United States manipulated the empirical facts and its main normative issues in order to present violation of a norm as socially acceptable.23 Top UN officials and members of the Security Council repeatedly refused to interpret the confirmed reports of Major-General Romeo Dallaire as genocide, instead framing them as “civil war caused by ‘ethnic’ differences between Rwandans,” hence portraying the situation in such a way that did not necessitate action.24 Furthermore, the fact that norm violators bother to offer justifications for their action—or inaction—shows that they recognize the norm’s legitimacy.25 This confirms the existence of the norm of humanitarian intervention, despite the norm clearly being too weak to compel the UN Security Council to do anything substantive about the genocide until it was too late. In conclusion, this essay exemplified the scaling back of the United Nations Assistance Mission in Rwanda (UNAMIR) as a testimony to the weakness of humanitarian intervention as an international norm, particularly as an induction of: the fundamentally changing international environment

post-Cold War, a non-compliance cascade of powerful states unwilling to invest resources in order to restore the norm, competing norms of sovereignty and non-intervention; moreover, and notwithstanding the arguments presented, this essay did not seek to disprove humanitarian intervention as a valid and present international norm. In retrospect, the UN Security Council has become more likely to act in line with the norm of humanitarian intervention since 1999, manifested as the Responsibility to Protect principle.26 1999 is treated as a tipping point of this principle, since that is the first time an explicit mandate was issued by the UN to protect civilians in Sierra Leone, thus marking a significant shift towards a focus on civilians in armed conflicts.27 This was a clear response to the failures of the UN in the 1990s to prevent atrocities in disintegrating states whilst—rhetorically—carrying out ‘peace’ operations. The normative power of humanitarian intervention, despite demonstrably weak during the Rwandan crisis, has thereafter grown stronger and gained importance on the international agenda.

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29 Works Cited: Cardenas, Sonia. 2004. “Norm Collision: Explaining the Effects of International Human Rights Pressure on State Behavior.” International Studies Review 6 (2): 213-232. Ehrhart, Hans. The “New Peacekeeping” and European Security: German and Canadian Interests and Issues. 1. Aufl. ed. Baden-Baden: Nomos Verlagsgesellschaft, 1995. Glanville, Luke. 2006. “Rwanda Reconsidered: A Study of Norm Violation.” Journal of Contemporary African Studies 24 (2): 186-202. Hultman, Lisa. 2013. “UN Peace Operations and Protection of Civilians: Cheap Talk Or Norm Implementation?” Journal of Peace Research 50 (1): 59-73. Legault, Albert, and Manon Tessier. Canada and Peacekeeping: Three Major Debates. Clementsport: Canadian Peacekeeping Press, 1999.

Marnika, Maurice. 1995. “Rwanda and UNAMIR: the Backlash to Ethnic Slaughter.” Peacekeeping & International Relations 24 (4): 14.

Panke, Diana, and Ulrich Petersohn. 2011. “Why International Norms Disappear Sometimes.” European Journal of International Relations 18 (9): 719-42. Rothe, Dawn L., Christopher W. Mullins, and Kent Sandstrom. 2009. “The Rwandan Genocide: International Finance Policies and Human Rights.” Social Justice 35 (3): 66-86. Sokolsky, Joel J., and Ont Kingston. The Americanization of Peacekeeping: Implications for Canada. Kingston, Ont.: Centre for International Relations, Queen’s University, 1997. Stanton, Gregory H. 2004. “Could the Rwandan Genocide have been Prevented?” Journal of Genocide Research 6 (2): 211-228. Williams, P. 2001. “Review Article: Indifference and Intervention: International Society and Human Rights in Africa.” The International Journal of Human Rights 5 (2): 140-153.

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