The Semblance of Stability [SoS]

Are traditional instruments of state power still relevant in today’s world?

2010-01-10T23:55:00.000-08:00

- Written by AJ Reibel, MIR

Some scholars state that a uni-polar world replaced the bi-polar one as competing state interests lost relevance with the emergence of a single hegemonic power[1]. Others argue that the globalized world shrunk and “…intrastate violence seems to have taken the place of interstate war.”[2] While the world has changed since the end of the Cold War, tensions and state competition continue to belie the assumption that power politics and anarchy no longer exist. Neorealism remains an effective International Relations paradigm. Likewise, traditional state instruments – including both hard and soft power – remain vital to statecraft and foreign policy.

Throughout the world states continue to act in their self-interest despite the draw of multilateral approaches and the rise of regional trade groupings. China’s position at the recent Climate Change summit in Copenhagen serves as an example. To safeguard its own geopolitical interests Beijing took the lead in arguing against binding carbon emissions reductions for developing states.[3]

Similarly, Russia’s current strong-arm strategy regarding Uzbekistan has little to do with concerns over Tashkent’s ongoing gas and water dispute with Tajikistan, but rather with its independent role in a region again dominated by Moscow.[4] As a significant source of gas, Russia cannot afford to allow Tashkent to threaten its hydrocarbon interests by pursuing independent policies.

China and Russia are not alone in the use of power-politics to pursue self-interest. Israel has hamstrung the Kremlin’s ability to provide Tehran with continued nuclear technology transfers and anti-aircraft missile systems. To counter Moscow’s plan to use Iran as a counterweight to growing American influence in the Former Soviet Union, Israel has discussed weapons sales, strategic military training, and technology transfer with Russia’s neighbours.[5]

States continue to act in their own self-interest because they fear emergent powers will threaten their security by blocking their access to resources. To safeguard their position, states employ a variety of hard-power instruments, including military force, temporary alliances, intelligence collection, disinformation campaigns, and economic and trade pressure.

What appears to be an international community built on normative laws and economic cooperation is nothing more than an anarchical society[6] of states all seeking to maximise their power vis-à-vis other states. The notion that the creation of the UN ushered in an international system based on the rule of law is flawed. The UN is neither able to stop brutal civil wars[7], nor is it capable of addressing the systemic challenge posed by transnational criminal and terrorist networks.

Likewise, the European Union does not offer a viable alternative to the status quo. Not only is it unable to construct a coherent foreign policy and field a unified military force, but it faces internal division as its member states continue to pursue their interests at the expense of cohesion. Momentum to create an EU rapid-reaction force has bogged down as Paris and Berlin disagree about the future of Europe and which one will take the lead. George Friedman suggests that Europe will “…have a lot more in common with Europe of 1913 than with Europe of 2000.”[8]

Even Free Trade Agreements have failed to arrest state-centric behaviour. It is no surprise that Australia and New Zealand – both of which share similar histories and geopolitical considerations – routinely pursue their own interests over full trade harmonization. Australia continues to block the importation of New Zealand apples and pork as a means of safeguarding local producers.

As explained by Neorealists, in the absence of world government anarchy prevails, and traditional instruments of power remain important. As a result, prudence and pragmatism remain “supreme virtues in international politics.”[9] There is, however, a need to amplify the set of instruments of statecraft. Non-state challenges – including terrorism, narcotics, and small arms and people trafficking – often pose more significant threats to state security than nuclear war.[10] Increasingly, economic development, sustained propaganda campaigns[11], strategic alliances, and unconventional military strategies will be used to confront non-state challenges.

______________

[1] Although related, the question of whether the US is a hegemonic or imperial power is a separate issue.

[2] Martin Griffiths, Terry O’Callaghan, Steven C Roach, International Relations: The Key Concepts (London and New York: Routledge, 2002), 270.

[3] __, “China: Carbon, Coal and Copenhagen,” STRATFOR, December 16, 2009, http://www.stratfor.com/analysis/20091216_china_carbon_coal_and_copenhagen.

[4] Uzbekistan largely self-sufficient in terms of food and energy production and as it does not share a border with Russia the Kremlin has found it difficult to keep Uzbekistan dependent on it.

[5] Israel had discussed weapon sales to Poland, and the Ukraine. In addition, the Kremlin is concerned that Israeli firms will resume training Georgian military forces. Taken from: __, “Israel: Paying a Visit to Poland and the Czech Republic,” STRATFOR, October 12, 2009, http://www.stratfor.com/analysis/20091012_israel_paying_visit_poland_and_czech_republic. Additional details on recent offers of weapon sales to Poland and the Czech Republic can be found at: Grzegorz Holdanowicz, “Bumar, IAI propose leasing MRTT aircraft to Poland,” Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 46, Iss. 37, 16 September 2009, 16.

[6] Taken from Hedley Bull’s criticism of Realism and his argument in favor of an international society based on normative values and expected behavior. For more information, see: Hedley Bull, The Anarchical Society: A Study of Order in World Politics (New York: Columbia University Press, 1977).

[7] Recent examples include ongoing civil wars in Sudan and Myanmar.

[8] __, “Geopolitical Diary: The Return of Europe,” STRATFOR, December 7, 2007, http://www.stratfor.com/geopolitical_diary/geopolitical_diary_return_europe.

[9] Hans J. Morgenthau, Politics Among Nations: The Struggle for Power and Peace (New York: McGraw-Hill Companies, Inc., 1948), 9.

[10] Paul J. Smith, “Transnational Security Threats and State Survival: A Role for the Military?” Parameters (Autumn, 2000): 77-91, http://www.carlisle.army.mil/usawc/Parameters/00autumn/smith.htm.

[11] Here I allude to Joseph Nye’s discussion of soft-power. States are able to further their interests by persuading the inhabitants of weaker states through less obvious means. Joseph Nye asserts that soft power – based on the attractiveness of a country’s culture, political ideals, and policies – is a form of power that, if used effectively, can supplement a country’s overall ability to obtain desired outcomes. For more information, see: Joseph S. Nye, Jr. “Soft Power and American Foreign Policy,” Political Science Quarterly, Vol. 119, No. 2 (2004): 255-270.

East Timor Pt. 1 - A Background

2009-02-08T00:12:00.000-08:00

-Written by AJ Reibel, MIR program, New Zealand

Historical Background

The historical focus of this study spans the time period between the outbreak of violence during the 1999 referendum and the attempted 2008 assassinations of President José Ramos-Horta and Prime Minister Xanana Gusmão. In order to fully understand East Timor’s current instability, it is important to discuss its long colonial past. Like many former colonies, the country’s history has been traumatic. East Timor’s colonial status lasted much longer than other Lusophone states and, as a result, the country has faced unique challenges that continue to impact on effective governance, economic stability, and political processes.

A Portuguese Colony
Portugal maintained a colonial presence in Eastern Timor for approximately 400 years after its discovery by Portuguese sailors between 1512 and 1513.[1] Until 1769, when the city of Dili was founded[2] as a secure administrative centre against surprise attacks by the Topass[3] – the name given by the Dutch to “the off-spring of Portuguese soldiers, sailors, and traders … who intermarried with local women.”[4] By the mid-1800’s Eastern Timor became a destination for sandalwood traders and Dominican missionaries.[5] Many missionaries were disappointed aspirants who had hoped to proselytise in the Portuguese colonies along India’s western coast.[6]

In the middle of the 17th Century, the Portuguese invaded the eastern part of Timor in an attempt to extend their influence over the interior kingdoms and to counter the growing Dutch influence on the western side of the island.[7] In the 17th and 18th Centuries, Topass groups were armed and supported by the relatively weak Portuguese colonists who used them to expel the Dutch and counter their retaliatory raids from the western side of the island.[8]

With Portuguese support, the Topass managed to defeat the Dutch near Kupang in 1656, yet this alliance was not able to repel a Dutch counter-offensive launched in 1749.9 Following their swift victory, the Dutch negotiated a settlement with the Portuguese that resulted in the partition of the island. The Portuguese capitalised on the weakened state of the Topass and gradually reduced the challenge they had begun to pose to Portuguese interests.[10]

Although Portuguese Timor gained more importance to Portugal’s colonial administration following Dili’s establishment, the colony remained largely underdeveloped and poorly governed. Throughout the early 19th Century, Portuguese influence was slow to reach rural areas and was periodically challenged by local rebellions and rebellious kingdoms.

The administration of Portuguese Timor was heavily influenced by Portugal’s colonies in Mozambique and India between the founding of Dili and the early 1900’s.[11] This was largely caused by the staffing of the Portuguese colonial army, which drew a significant number of soldiers from its colony in Lourenço Marques[12] (present-day Mozambique).

During the years 1911 – 1914 a series of rebellions swept across Eastern Timor and forced the colonial administration to call for reinforcements from Portuguese Africa.[13] With the arrival of the troops, and aided by a series of alliances with local kingdoms, the Portuguese defeated the rebellion and extended the Crown’s rule across the eastern part of the island.[14]

Though the Portuguese colonial period has been described by Michael Smith and Moreen Dee as “benign”, Sukanya Mohan Das[15] draws attention not only to Portugal’s systematic infrastructural neglect[16], but also to the repressive tactics employed by Portuguese administrators.[17] The mobilisation of Portuguese colonial military reserves from Lisbon’s African colonies in order to quell the rebellions in the early 1900’s “resulted in the deaths of 3,000 East Timorese, while historical records refer to the widespread destruction wrought by Captain Mayor Francisco Fernandes [in order] to subdue the Kingdom of Wehale.”[18] The brutal tactics employed by the African soldiers, coupled with resettlement from Lourenço Marques and Angola, resulted in Timorese resentment of colonial immigrants from Africa.[19]

Japanese Occupation and the Return to Portuguese Rule
In order to secure vital supplies of natural resources for its campaigns in Manchuria and against the United States, Japan thrust into the Asia-Pacific region on 1942.[20] Timor quickly became a prime target as it provided a frontline defence against an Australian counter-attack on the valuable oil fields the Japanese seized in Indonesia and the rubber plantations of French Indo-China. On 20th February 1942, Japanese forces launched a full-scale invasion of the island and caught the Dutch, Portuguese, and Australian forces off-guard.[21] The Australians and their Dutch allies had not expected Japan to push southwards across the Dutch East Indies as quickly as it did. Nor did they anticipate that the Japanese would invade the eastern half of Timor in violation of Portugal’s neutrality.[22]

Though the Dutch and Australian defenders fought valiantly, they “were forced to surrender on 23rd February.”[23] In addition to the main Japanese offensive against the Dutch stronghold of Kupang, they launched an invasion of Dili.[24] Australian forces had planned to concentrate their defence on the Dutch side of the island and dispatched 250 soldiers to Portuguese Timor to gain support from the indigenous and Topass inhabitants.[25] The local Timorese proved vital for the Australian-directed guerrilla campaign against the Japanese forces.
[An] Australian survivor of the year long guerrilla campaign commented that without the help of the creados, Timorese who assisted the Australians, the guerrilla campaign could not have been conducted the way it was. Another said, "they were so good, the creados, they risked their lives all the time for us, it shamed you really." …Some took up arms themselves and fought alongside the Australians.[26]

While vital to the guerrilla campaign against the Japanese invaders, the East Timorese (in particular) paid a high price – between 40,000 and 60,000[27] were killed and many villages were punished for aiding the Allied forces.[28] Japanese tactics included the destruction of food stores and crops[29], the use of forced labour (called romusha), and the enslavement of women as jugun ianfu (comfort women).[30] In 2002, Maurubi, an 80 year-old survivor of the Japanese invasion recounted the horrors experienced by the East Timorese:
“As slave [labourers], men, women and children were forced to build the main road from Hau through Oli, Kai, Ualele, Uato-Lari, Nunumalau, Haunau, Aedere, Lhare to Baguia. They had no clothes or food. Many people died. When we did receive food, the Japanese military would take it from us and make us watch them eat our food. The Japanese military was very cruel.”[31]

Though their retaliatory tactics and human rights abuses exacted a tremendous toll on the East Timorese, the Japanese left behind a network of roads, communication infrastructure, and an airport.[32] Ironically, the ‘benign’ Portuguese failed to develop East Timor for centuries before the Second World War, and its development was, instead, increased during the short and cruel Japanese occupation.

With the end of the Second World War, East Timor reverted back to Portuguese control[33]. Although infrastructural development projects had been started by the Japanese during their 3 year occupation, once the island returned to Portuguese administration, the colonial bureaucrats again neglected development. This legacy of underdevelopment and illiteracy would have ramifications during the rest of the 21st century. Foreign capital (and nominal development) began to trickle in during “… the late 1950’s… [in the form of] economic, administrative, social and cultural investments.”[34] Despite attempts to expand the colony’s cultivation of cinnamon, cacao, coffee, and rubber production, “the economy remained largely a subsistence agricultural [one].”[35]

A second effect of East Timorese underdevelopment was the state of the colony’s educational infrastructure. It was not until the early 1960’s that the Portuguese began to invest in the sector. Prior to the 1960’s most primary education was provided by the Catholic Church.[36] However, with Portuguese investment, “[the] number of primary school students [rose to] almost… 60,000 in 1972.”[37]

In 1974, Portuguese policy towards its overseas territories shifted dramatically as a general feeling of malaise and a rejection of colonial commitments swept through Lisbon and resulted in the ‘Carnation Revolution’ and subsequent military coup.[38] Following the military revolt in Lisbon, the Portuguese armed forces extricated themselves from their costly colonial commitments. A disagreement paralysed the independence process in many overseas territories due to a rift between officers who favoured an immediate withdrawal and transfer of power to the existing freedom movements and those who favoured a lengthier transfer that would guarantee elections.[39] Portugal’s mishandling of East Timorese independence allowed Indonesia to execute a rapid annexation of the territory.

1975 Indonesian Invasion
The Indonesian invasion of East Timor took place on 7th December 1975.[40] Jakarta had been working to destabilise divisions between East Timor’s political parties to undermine the shaky coalition between the Uniao Democratica Timorense (UDT) and the Frente Revolucionaria de Timor-Leste (FRETILIN).[41] In the year and a half before the Indonesian invasion, Portugal relaxed its control of the territory’s political space. Initially three political parties emerged: the UDT, the Associação Social-Democrata Timorense (ASDT) – a political party with socialist inclinations – and the Associacão Popular Democratica Timorense (APODETI) – a pro-Indonesian reunification party heavily funded by Jakarta.[42] The ASDT and the UDT formed a coalition from which FRETILIN emerged.[43]

It quickly became apparent to Jakarta that APODETI lacked popular support, and the only way to undermine FRETILIN would be to force a wedge between the UDT and FRETILIN’s left-wing. The government of Indonesia (GOI) ran a surreptitious campaign against FRETILIN, warning that its Marxist ideology would result in an ‘Asian Cuba’.[44] In late 1974, the United States and its Asian-Pacific and Austral-Asian allies were engaged in a conflict against Communist forces in Southeast Asia, and Indonesia’s strategy resulted in US tacit approval for the future invasion of East Timor.

During the lead-up to the invasion, the UDT “…withdrew from the [FRETILIN] coalition out of fear of the Communist elements of the ASDT, [and] demand[ed] that all communists be removed from the island.”[45] The UDT followed its demand with a coup, staged on 11th August 1975.[46] FRETILIN forces launched a counter-coup and, by 25th August, drove UDT and APODETI forces into West Timor.[47]

Portuguese colonial forces withdrew from the island, leaving FRETILIN as the defacto government in Dili. FRETILIN moved quickly to bolster its security services to counter a destabilisation campaign organised by the Indonesian military, which was positioned along the West Timorese border. Approximately 1,500[48] Timorese lost their lives in the fighting between FRETILIN and UDT/APODETI forces.[49] Infiltrators from West Timor continued to attack villages, burn crops, and generally terrorise East Timorese communities along the border.[50]

Alarmed at the deteriorating situation, FRETILIN moved to assure the Indonesians of Dili’s commitment to democracy and good relations. Additionally, FRETILIN “…requested [that] Portuguese authorities return from exile… [in order to] continue the decolonisation process.”[51] Its strategy failed to improve the security situation: the GOI ignored its overtures and Lisbon, its requests.[52] FRETILIN declared independence on 28th November 1975; and the Angkatan Bersenjata Republik Indonesia (ABRI) invaded with overwhelming force in early December 1975.[53]

The ferocity of the ABRI’s tactics devastated the East Timorese population. Though Indonesian human rights (HR) abuses reached their climax in the first five years following the invasion, execution, torture, imprisonment without trial, and other forms of intimidation occurred throughout the entire Indonesian occupation. It is estimated that approximately 100,000 East Timorese were killed by Indonesian forces during the four months following the Indonesian invasion.[54] And a Portuguese source states that up to “44% of the pre-occupation population was killed between the invasion and 1981.”[55]

In addition to systematic killings, the Indonesians attempted to “weaken kinship ties and social cohesion within the East Timorese population.”[56] The ABRI and its paramilitary proxies forcibly relocated entire villages to sever their linkage to their land, which undermined the traditional Timorese class system based on land ownership. Other ABRI tactics were to force potential FRETILIN sympathisers to search for FRETILIN and Forças Armadas da Libertação Nacional de Timor-Leste (FALINTIL)[57] guerrillas in order to assassinate them, and the enforcement of the use of Bahasa Indonesian in the public and educational sectors.[58]

In the early 1980’s, the GOI shifted tactics and tried to win hearts and minds by implementing similar strategies as those used by the Portuguese in the 1960’s. Jakarta “developed plans… [that] prioritised agricultural and rural development, education and health, transportation, communications and public sector development.”[59] The GOI invested heavily in these sectors and, consequently, elevated East Timor beyond the level of development reached during the Portuguese colonial period.

Despite this new strategy, in the 1975 invasion much of the “existing school system [suffered extensive damage], and in 1976 there were less than 14,000 pupils in 47 elementary schools and 2 junior high schools serving a population of more than 600,000.”[60] Although the Indonesians began to inject much needed funding into education, there was little infrastructure left undamaged and most projects had to be started anew.

With the Indonesian invasion and decades of brutality, attempts to smother East Timorese identity and a strategy aimed at overwhelming East Timor’s bifurcated governance structures[61], the Catholic Church and the besieged armed resistance forces (predominantly FALINTIL) represented the only remaining functioning local political and social institutions. In fact, “…when Indonesia invaded the territory of Portuguese Timor in December 1975, the Church was practically the only organised institution.”[62]

Not only did the clergy of the Roman Catholic Church “identify with the independence struggle…”[63], but the wider East Timorese population turned to Catholicism as a way to resist Panca Sila – or the ‘Five Principles’[64] that underpinned the philosophy of Sukarno’s Indonesia. Notably, “…the number of registered Catholics in East Timor prior to the Indonesian invasion was no more than 30 percent but by the 1990’s this figure had increased to 80 percent of the population.”[65]

The Peacemaking and Stabilisation Process
Indonesia’s occupation of East Timor came under increasing foreign scrutiny during the 1990’s. On 12th November 1991, ABRI forces opened fire on a procession of mourners paying their respects to the memory of two East Timorese youths they killed the month before.[66] This event became known as the Santa Cruz Massacre. The massacre was brought to the world’s attention when it was recorded on video by a British journalist.[67] The scenes of soldiers firing on unarmed mourners and pro-Timorese independence protestors caused a sharp anti-Indonesian backlash in Australia and other Western countries[68], and focused attention on Indonesia’s repressive tactics in East Timor.

In early 1999, President Bachuaruddin Jusuf Habibie – who succeeded President Suharto – announced that Indonesia would allow East Timorese to determine their political status through a referendum.[69] The order came from Jakarta, and the ABRI was not consulted. Seeing its economic interests in East Timor and its political power challenged in Jakarta, the ABRI “established, trained and directed local militia groups in a campaign of intimidation with the objective of averting the referendum.”[70]

Despite reports of violence and HR abuses, Lisbon agreed to Jakarta’s referendum, with three caveats: a) the UN would oversee any political transformation; b) the GOI and ABRI would be responsible for maintaining order and a “safe environment” during the referendum; and, c) the referendum would be held in August 1999.[71] Following consultations with the UN Security Council, the UN Assistance Mission in East Timor (UNAMET) was established to coordinate and implement the referendum.

In the months leading up to the referendum, ABRI-supported militias tried to disrupt UN preparations for the referendum. Militias forced between 40,000 and 85,000 people from their homes and attacked UN offices in Dili.[72] Despite intimidation, East Timorese turned out in force on voting day. When UNAMET declared that “an overwhelming majority had voted for independence,” the ABRI unleashed its militia forces and troops.[73] The ensuing carnage and violence caught both East Timorese and UNAMET observers by surprise.
Out of a total population of 890,000, UNICEF estimated in late September that 141,000 people had been deported to West Timor and between 190,000 and 300,000 were hiding in East Timor… Hunger and disease were widespread among the displaced, most of whom were cut off from food and water supplies by insecurity, rough terrain, broken-down transport…[74]

UNAMET found itself severely constrained by its mandate and limited manpower, and was forced to withdraw from the island on 14th September after its offices and personnel were attacked by militia groups.

Ostensibly, international pressure forced President Habibie to permit a military intervention to restore order in East Timor. However, upon closer examination, several issues converged and ultimately contributed to Habibie’s decision:
a) Following the 1997 Asian Financial Crisis, the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and The World Bank threatened to withhold future loans and to suspend the ongoing renegotiation of existing debt unless Jakarta allowed an intervention to restore order to East Timor.[75]
b) The United States was adamant that the ABRI be reigned-in in East Timor to prevent the continuing unrest to be used as an excuse to launch a coup d’etat in Jakarta.[76]
c) The United States supported Australia’s (and several other interested countries’) concern that “East Timor represented a major test of UN credibility” and that following the fiascos in Somalia and Rwanda, the international community could not afford to let the UN’s reputation be sullied once again.[77]

Although INTERFET was not strictly a UN mission, it was authorized by the UN Security Council. Resolution 1264 called for the “[restoration of] peace and security in East Timor, [and the protection and support of] UNAMET in carrying out its tasks and, within force capabilities, [the facilitation of] humanitarian assistance operations.”[78] The intervention was led by Australia, but supported by New Zealand and 20 other countries (including the United States).[79] The well-armed INTERFET forces quickly restored order and created a space in which reconstruction projects and state-building operations could commence. A conservative estimate supplied by the UN Report of the International Commission of Inquiry in East Timor to the Secretary-General suggested that the INTERFET mission saved 5,000 - 10,000 lives.[80]

Canberra made it clear that once it had restored peace and security, it would progressively (but expeditiously) transfer peacekeeping responsibilities to the UN Transitional Administration for East Timor (UNTAET) mission. The hand-over occurred in February 2000, four months after the Indonesian parliament approved East Timor’s independence.[81] Although INTERFET was successful in restoring order and UNTAET was able to administer the nascent country while it worked to establish and support East Timor’s government, the country still faced insecurity and local grievances that have led to subsequent crises.

UNTAET’s mandate ended in May 2002, at which point its peacekeeping responsibilities were incorporated into the UN Mission of Support in East Timor (UNMISET). UNMISET was tasked with providing assistance to the government of East Timor (or, by 2002, Timor-Leste) until it became self-sufficient.[82]

UMISET withdrew in May of 2005 and turned the responsibility for the maintenance of order and security over to the Falintil-Forças de Defesa de Timor Leste (F-FDTL).[83] The UN Office in Timor-Leste (UNOTIL) was charged with supporting the democratic and administrative strengthening of the East Timorese government. Although UNOTIL’s mandate called for it to disband in May 2006, growing tensions and escalating violence caused the mission’s mandate to be extended until August 2006.

In 2006, mounting discontent within the ranks of the F-FDTL and its veterans caused a rift between different political factions and exposed a political schism in which a large number of disgruntled East Timorese soldiers from the western side of the territory protest against discrimination within the F-FDTL and its eastern East Timorese officer corps. Further complications arose when the disgruntled forces claimed that the new East Timor police force included a large number of personnel who “…had worked for the Indonesian administration.”[84] As the crisis worsened, political fault lines appeared between then President Xanana Gusmão and former Prime Minister Mari Alkatiri.

As conditions worsened, the government of East Timor requested assistance from Australia, New Zealand, Portugal and Malaysia. The Australian-led ISF responded to Dili’s request for help restoring order and deployed following the unrest of April and May 2006.[85] Also following the 2006 crisis, the UN Security Council voted to establish the UN Integrated Mission in Timor-Leste (UNMIT) aimed at supporting the Timor Leste government, democracy building, the improvement of the country’s police force, and assist in post-conflict peacebuilding and capacity-building.[86]

Although the UNMIT mission and ISF deployment are independent missions, they coordinate their efforts so that UNMIT can focus on capacity-building in a stable environment. The ISF is primarily concerned with maintaining security to allow UNMIT police operations and training missions to strengthen East Timor’s law enforcement capabilities. The ISF’s presence in Dili proved central to the rapid suppression of tensions during the unsuccessful 11th February 2008 assassination attempts on President José Ramos-Horta and Prime Minister Xanana Gusmão. ISF forces were able to evacuate the injured Ramos-Horta to Darwin for medical treatment.[87]

The Effects of East Timor’s Historical Experience
A new state’s historical inheritance generally becomes evident as social dislocation, unrest, and disintegration occur. While the underlying causes are directly related to many years of poor governance, neglect, repression, and societal stratification, often the analysis provided by foreign specialists focus on superficial shortcomings that fail to properly examine their drivers. If a colonial power left a country in shambles, with half-built, but irreparably sabotaged high-rise buildings, houses stripped of their electrical wiring, and with very few locally trained experts[88] – as occurred in Mozambique – the effect would not only be felt immediately, but would linger for years and possibly decades. The effects of East Timor’s violent history, developmental neglect and internal divisions, vary greatly.

A History of Violence
East Timor’s history of violence and dispossession at the hands of invaders has been a common thread in Timorese history since the first Portuguese and Dutch settlements in the 1500’s. Although many former colonies experienced dispossession during their colonial period and have endured civil conflict, most have managed to bridge division and redress past wrongs. In East Timor, which “…has suffered successive waves [of dispossession and varied forms of violence], from Portuguese colonization through Japanese occupation to Indonesian invasion,”[89] recovery has been particularly slow.

The result of East Timor’s history of violence has been an inculcated sense of helplessness and the development of a quasi self-help society based on kinship ties (if they were not severed during the period of Indonesian rule), community groupings, gang-affiliations, and ethno-linguistic bonds. A significant side-effect of Indonesia’s resettlement campaigns is the growth of landless peasants – a significant problem in a society whose class system and structure is rooted in land inheritance – many of whom moved to Dili and have become urban poor, living in squalid conditions. The urban discontent and overcrowding in Dili has added fuel to an already problematic gang-culture.

Although gangs are not new to East Timor – under Portuguese colonial rule, gangs (called moradores) were co-opted and used as repressive agents, and during the Indonesian occupation gangs and militias were employed as death squads[90] – the pressures of urbanisation, societal disaffection, unemployment, and assimilation have caused many young men to join gangs. In 2006, James Scambery estimated that unemployment in Dili exceeded 50% and made gang membership an attractive option for large numbers of aimless, uprooted, and economically impoverished youth.[91]

East Timor’s gangs are not simply youth gangs. Many are highly organised paramilitary forces – in the sense that they can be mobilised to achieve political goals as a militia – loyal to “…different factions within the security forces and political parties.”[92] In July 2006, members of the Juventude Para Paz e Justiça[93] (JPJ) gang organised a violent protest outside of the detention centre where Alfredo Reinado was held.[94] In addition to demanding the release of the former major of the F-FDTL, the gang called for Malaysian and Australian troops to remain in their barracks so it could launch an attack on the Guardia Nacional Republicana (GNR)[95] – the Portuguese National Republican Guard[96].

Systemic Underdevelopment
Systemic neglect (apart from investment in transportation and communication links - with a high human cost - during the Indonesian occupation) has taken its toll on East Timor. Chronic agricultural underdevelopment has left East Timor in a precarious position and the country was unable to mitigate the effects of the ‘97/’98 drought, which resulted in famine. Its demography was negatively impacted by the drought, as well as insecurity and limited job prospects, all of which have resulted in an out-migration of working age Timorese.[97] Inefficiency in the management of health services and disorder in the provision of healthcare have likewise produced a steady flight of healthcare practitioners.[98] Recent attacks (in which schools suffered collateral damage), institutional inefficiency, the introduction of two new languages (Portuguese and Tetum), and material shortages have all presented formidable challenges to the educational sector.[99]

Although East Timor is fortunate in that it does not exhibit the same unequal resource and capital distribution that afflicts many developing states, poverty is a considerable issue. In East Timor, “poverty is a problem of low [economic and agricultural] production…,” high urban density, and low literacy levels.[100]

The country continues to suffer from infrastructural underdevelopment and decay. The GOI invested heavily in transportation and communication networks; however, funding for maintenance was not nearly as forthcoming. Consequently, roads are deteriorated, and communication services remain expensive.[101] East Timor requires significant investment in its transportation network to enable farmers to ship their livestock to market.[102] Finally, the country’s energy production capacity and sanitation facilities must be improved to support broader economic growth.

Structural Violence
The preceding sections treat the causes and effects of a perpetual condition of disenfranchisement and instability, best examined through structural violence. Acts of structural violence, or “structural violations of human rights”, are a direct result of the structures and institutions that govern the international and domestic state system.[103]

Johan Galtung, to whom the study of structural violence can be attributed, questioned how many people die from unseen, generally disregarded factors. Such factors include poverty, societal norms that favour a specific gender, lack of infrastructural development, poor education, an official language that excludes non-speakers from the formal economy, etc. Galtung drew attention to the devastating effects of structural violence by asking how many people die yearly in “the slums of Latin America [of disease, easily treatable injuries, and violence] … [as compared to] one year of WWII?”[104]

That East Timor has existed in a state of dire underdevelopment, with a history of conflict, subjugation, repression, and ethnic political tension, makes the discussion of structural violence especially pertinent. Notably, the systematic neglect of the educational sector is a recipe for exploitation and marginalisation. Karena Shaw emphasises that knowledge and power “are… conceptually inseparable”[105], while Paul Farmer asserts that such forces act to not only marginalise and subordinate people in the current system, but the ensuing prejudice and poverty they produce usually leaves them scarred and further dislocated.[106]

In addition to the dislocation caused by disempowerment (from innumeracy, illiteracy, or the inability to speak an official language), a poorly functioning health system poses equally significant problems. With 3 doctors and 20 kilometres of paved roads during the period of Portuguese colonial administration[107], medical attention was inadequate in East Timor. During the rainy season unpaved roads became impassable. East Timorese died for lack of medical attention that only a decade later they would have received due to infrastructural improvements.

In 2000, James Traub wrote that East Timor’s healthcare system (not to mention the government’s ability to provide public goods) was in disarray and suffered a lack “of doctors, dentists, [not to mention] accountants, lawyers, and police, [as well as]… tables, chairs, pots, and pans.”[108] Although investment occurred during the period of Indonesian occupation, at independence, the country still exhibited signs of severe structural violence.

Galtung introduced another perspective on unseen violence related to cultural practices relevant to East Timor’s experience – cultural violence.[109] As a culture can exhibit cultural practices that encourage peace (or the apparent traits of a ‘culture of peace’), so, too, can a culture reveal aspects or practices that promote violence. According to Galtung, cultural violence often generates direct violence (killings, maimings, beatings, rape, etc…), while structural violence may result in as much, if not more, suffering.

Galtung identifies religion, ideology, and language as the first three (and for the purposes of this study, the most relevant) manifestations of cultural violence.[110] Religion, like ideology or language, creates a division between individuals and groups. Likewise, ideology separates leftist Marxists from moderate Leftists (as was the case when FRETILIN splintered), and language, between speakers of Tetum, Bahasa Indonesian, and Portuguese.

Another example of cultural violence in East Timor stems from the practice of patrilineal land tenure. As peasants were forced to leave their communities – for infractions against the established order, evicted from their land by Topass groups (with support from the Portuguese), or forcibly resettled – they, in-turn, displaced other peasants. This displacement created divisions that have deepened with population growth and have increased urban discontent and dislocation.

It can be surmised that Galtung’s cultural violence is prevalent in any society, increases the incidence of violent conflict as social pressures build, and continues to produce the societal factors that, in the case of East Timor, have threatened stabilisation and subsequent development.

Political Fissures
One of the most noticeable effects of East Timor’s socio/economic and political experience is the bifurcation of its political structures into ‘formal’ and ‘informal’ spheres. The terms ‘formal’ and ‘informal’ are used carefully because, although they often imply a hierarchy of effectiveness (‘formal’ generally regarded as more effective and suitable than ‘informal’), in East Timor’s political system they should be regarded as equally legitimate.

Ethnic divisions exploited by the Portuguese and Indonesians, and forced resettlement, fractured traditional Timorese class and governance structures. Traditional structures did not disappear, instead they adapted to exogenous pressure. During the colonial period, Portuguese colonial administrators armed and generally backed Topass merchants against resistant Timorese kingdoms and Dutch settlers. Subsequently, the Topass displaced the Timorese patrilineal power structure based on land ownership and marriage. The Portuguese rewarded the Topass with land for their participation against rebellious kingdoms in the hinterland and against Dutch settlements. Though the Topass intermarried with the local Timorese, their influence greatly altered the traditional power structure.

In the mid-1800’s, when Portugal landed a considerable force on Timor, supposedly to support the Topass and Portuguese settlers against Dutch encroachment, they swiftly moved to weaken the influence of the Topass, withdrawing their support and instead favouring loyal Timorese chiefs.[111] Consequently, two power structures appeared: an official Portuguese colonial sphere and a contested Timorese/Topass sphere.

As in many other colonies, it was not uncommon for the indigenous colonial population to shift their loyalty between colonial administrators and local chieftains. The result was a contradiction of sovereignty and legitimacy. Sovereignty, thought of as legitimate control over a specific territory and people, stresses the authority of the state.[112] This Westphalian IR assumption serves to frustrate the understanding of indigenous sovereignty, which may exist in a spatial and temporal sphere different to that of modern society.[113] Herein lies the first underlying discrepancy between the Western, ‘modern’ world and the indigenous one.[114]

During the Indonesian occupation, another paradox of legitimacy developed. Jakarta’s repressive strategies and ABRI brutality unified the remnants of the Portuguese and informal governance structures (elders, chiefs and the warrior hierarchy), thereby strengthening Timorese resistance as an ‘informal’ governance/political structure.

FALINTIL drew its members largely “from East Timorese members of the Portuguese armed forces in East Timor,”[115] and the Catholic Church increased its clout among Timorese, while the system of land inheritance continued to delineate a Timorese noble and peasant class. This was a primary reason why the GOI and ABRI uprooted and forcibly resettled communities. The GOI’s successful co-option of sectors of the East Timorese populace, combined with the influx of non-native Indonesians (Javanese and West Timorese), further displaced the East Timorese and exerted additional pressure on the informal political sphere.

An effect of this bifurcated political sphere was the explosion of violence between Timorese from the western side of East Timor (who were favoured by the Indonesians) and Timorese from the eastern side of the country (where the resistance to Indonesia was based).[116] In his PhD dissertation, Dionisio Boba Soare described how even gang-on-gang conflict in Dili and the surrounding areas was attributed to both Western vs. Eastern tensions (predominantly caused by the resentment created by the ‘Easterners’ claim that they were the true patriots during the Indonesian occupation and their accusation that ‘Westerners’ were collaborators).[117] Gang violence in and around Dili has also been tied to historic commercial and ethnic animosity sparked by rivalries at local markets.[118]

In addition to the bifurcation between ‘formal’ and ‘informal’ spheres of governance, the ‘formal’ political arena is heavily contested by various factions and splinter groups that have voiced their dissatisfaction with the system of political patronage along ethnic lines. The ethnic dissatisfaction came to a head with the 2006 East Timor Crisis. The Crisis began in March 2006 when approximately 600 soldiers “went on strike, protesting low wages and discrimination [in the F-FDTL against Western East Timorese.”[119] What unfolded was a magnification of the tensions between FRETILIN political forces loyal to Dr. Mari Bim Alkatiri[120] and to Xanana Gusmão[121].

The fundamental division between the Gusmão and Alkatiri camps is based on their competing views regarding the role of FRETILIN in the country’s political arena. The Gusmão camp insists that despite FRETILIN’s role during the struggle against Indonesian occupation, the party does not have “a privileged status above other organi[s]ations.”[122] Alkatiri’s views regarding FRETILIN’s role in Timorese politics differ greatly. He insists that FRETILIN is the legitimate representative of the Timorese people (a view laden with Marxist ideology and a commitment to a single-party political system, acquired during his exile spent in Communist Mozambique).[123]

Although Alkatiri was forced to resign as Prime Minister on 26 June 2006, after the resignation of José Ramos-Horta (then Foreign Minister) and the threat of resignation by other key government functionaries[124], he has remained active in the country’s parliament and within FRETILIN. The Ramos-Horta/Gusmão camp has remained dominant, splitting from FRETILIN and forming the Conselho Nacional de Reconstrução do Timor (CNRT).[125] In turn, Alkatiri has mobilised grass-root FRETILIN support against the loose coalition formed by CNRT in order to circumvent FRETILIN’s large bloc in East Timor’s parliament.

Alkatiri insists that his opposition to CNRT has resulted in his supporters being harassed by ANZAC (Australian and New Zealand)[126] troops.[127] According to left-wing media sources in Australia and New Zealand, and STRATFOR, (although, with different explanations), a continuing Australian and New Zealand military presence is evidence that José Ramos-Horta’s government is having difficulty exerting control over the country.

Left wing commentators suggest that Alkatiri has begun to win over more popular support after several high-profile ANZAC operations in and around Dili resulted in the deaths of numerous Timorese rebels, gang members, and innocent civilians.[128] STRATFOR, instead, insists that it is in Australia’s interest to keep its forces in East Timor, causing East Timor’s political system to remain tenuous in order “to ensure that any key decisions made [in Dili] be driven by Canberra, with Australia’s national security interests coming first.”[129]

______

1] Michael Geoffrey Smith with Moreen Dee, Peacekeeping in East Timor: The Path to Independence (Boulder, CO: Lynne Rienner Publishers, 2003), 36.
2] Ivo Carneiro de Sousa, “The Portuguese Colonization and the Problem of the East Timorese Nationalism,” Lusotopie, Timor – Les défis de l'indépendance (2001):184.
3] Smith and Dee, Peacekeeping in East Timor: The Path to Independence, 34.
4] John G. Taylor, “The Emergence of a Nationalist Movement in East Timor,” in East Timor at the Crossroads: The Forging of a Nation, ed. Peter Carey and G. Carter Bentley (London : Cassell, 1995), 23-24.
5] de Sousa, “The Portuguese Colonization and the Problem of the East Timorese Nationalism,”184.
6] Ibid.
7] Taylor, “The Emergence of a Nationalist Movement in East Timor,” in East Timor at the Crossroads: The Forging of a Nation, 23.
8] Ibid., 23-24.
9] Ibid., 25.
10] Ibid.
11] de Sousa, “The Portuguese Colonization and the Problem of the East Timorese Nationalism,”184.
12] Ibid., taken from: W.G. Clarence-Smith, “Fazendeiros e pequenos proprietários no território português de Timor no século XIX e XX,” Encontros de divulgação e debate em estudos sociais, Vol. 3 (1998): 41-50.
13] Smith and Dee, Peacekeeping in East Timor: The Path to Independence, 36.
14] Ibid.
15] Sukanya Mohan Das worked as a UNTAET Human Rights Officer between November 1999 and November 2001.
16] This neglect left East Timor
17] Sukanya Mohan Das, “Building Peace in Timor-Leste: A Critical Analysis,” (PhD dissertation submitted to Victoria University of Wellington, 2005), 146.
18] Ibid.
19] de Sousa, “The Portuguese Colonization and the Problem of the East Timorese Nationalism,”184.
20] __, “Fighting in Timor, 1942,” Australian War Memorial website, http://www.awm.gov.au/atwar/timor.asp [viewed December 21, 2008].
21] Ibid.
22] Ibid.
23] Ibid.
24] Ibid.
25] Ibid.
26] Ibid.
27] Detailed records of deaths during the period of Japanese occupation were not kept and the figures are based on estimates. As a result, figures range from 40,000 to nearly 70,000 deaths during the 3 year Japanese occupation of the island. The author took his estimated range from both John G. Taylor and S. Mohan Das’s works.
28] Mohan Das, “Building Peace in Timor-Leste: A Critical Analysis,” 148. Taken from: Taylor, “The Emergence of a Nationalist Movement in East Timor,” in East Timor at the Crossroads: The Forging of a Nation, 32.
29] This tactic resulted in widespread starvation as food supplies dwindled.
30] Nuno Rodrigues, “Why Refuse the Japanese Self-Defense Force?” The La'o Hamutuk Bulletin, Vol. 3, No. 1, Issue focus: CivPol, Agriculture (Feb., 2002), taken from the East Timor and Indonesia Action Network, http://www.etan.org/lh/bulletins/bulletinv3n1.html#Police%20Mission [viewed December 21, 2008].
31] Ibid., Taken from: interview by Antero Bendito Silva.
32] de Sousa, “The Portuguese Colonization and the Problem of the East Timorese Nationalism,”184.
33] Portugal’s resumption of administration for East Timor was approved by the United States – despite Portuguese neutrality during the War – in a deal that allowed Portugal to resume its administration of its former African, Asian, and Southeast Asian colonies in return for use of its airfields in the Azores. Taken from: GC Gunn, “The Five-Hundred-Year Timorese Funu,” in Bitter Flowers, Sweet Flowers: East Timor, Indonesia, and the World Community, ed. R Tanter, M Selden & SR Shalom (Sydney, Australia: Pluto Press, 2001), 9.
34] de Sousa, “The Portuguese Colonization and the Problem of the East Timorese Nationalism,” 184.
35] Mohan Das, “Building Peace in Timor-Leste: A Critical Analysis,” 147.
36] Jon Pedersen and Marie Arneberg, ed., “Social and Economic Conditions in East Timor,” International Conflict Resolution Program School of International and Public Affairs Columbia University (New York, USA) & Fafo Institute of Applied Social Science (Oslo, Norway), 1999, http://www.fafo.no/pub/rapp/929/easttimor.PDF [viewed December 22, 2008], 84.
37] Pedersen and Marie Arneberg, ed., “Social and Economic Conditions in East Timor,” 84. Taken from: Joao Mariano de Sousa Saldanha, The Political Economy of East Timor Development
(Jakarta: Pustaka Sinar Harapan, 1994).
38] Malyn Newitt, “Mozambique,” in A History of Postcolonial Lusophone Africa, ed. Patrick Chabal, 185-331 (Indianapolis, Indiana: Indiana University Press, 2002), 191.
39] Ibid.
40] Mohan Das, “Building Peace in Timor-Leste: A Critical Analysis,” 149.
41] Ibid.
42] __, “A Short History of East Timor 1502 – 2000,” East Timor, http://www.easttimor.org.uk/shorthistoryofeasttimor.htm [viewed December 22, 2008].
43] Ibid.
44] Simon Philpott, “East Timor’s Double Life: Smells Like Westphalian Spirit,” Third World Quarterly, Vol. 27, No. 1 (2006): 137.
45] __, “A Short History of East Timor 1502 – 2000.”
46] Mohan Das, “Building Peace in Timor-Leste: A Critical Analysis,” 149.
47] __, “A Short History of East Timor 1502 – 2000.”
48] Mohan Das, “Building Peace in Timor-Leste: A Critical Analysis,” 149.
49] __, “A Short History of East Timor 1502 – 2000.”
50] Ibid.
51] Mohan Das, “Building Peace in Timor-Leste: A Critical Analysis,” 149.
52] Jakarta had already massed an army along the East Timorese border and Lisbon’s attention was focused on extricating its forces from its remaining African colonies.
53] __, “A Short History of East Timor 1502 – 2000.”
54] Ibid.
55] Ibid.
56] Mohan Das, “Building Peace in Timor-Leste: A Critical Analysis,” 151.
57] Though FALINTIL is often depicted as FRETILIN’s armed wing, this notion is somewhat mislaid. FALINTIL was closely associated to FRETILIN in the early years following Indonesia’s invasion. However, between 1986 and 1988 FRETILIN’s leadership sought to involve the UDT in the wider resistance movement by formally acknowledging FALINTIL’s political neutrality. Taken from: Dennis Shoesmith, “Divided Leadership in a Semi-Presidential System,” Asian Survey, Vol. 43, No. 2 (Mar. – Apr., 2003): 240-241.
58] Mohan Das, “Building Peace in Timor-Leste: A Critical Analysis,” 150.
59] Mohan Das, “Building Peace in Timor-Leste: A Critical Analysis,” 151.
60] Pedersen and Arneberg, ed., “Social and Economic Conditions in East Timor,” 84.
61] More regarding the bifurcated governance structures can be found in the following subsection: 3.3 The effects of East Timor’s historical experience.
62] de Sousa, “The Portuguese Colonization and the Problem of the East Timorese Nationalism,”192.
63] Shoesmith, “Divided Leadership in a Semi-Presidential System,” 234.
64] Jamie Mackie, Australia & Indonesia: Current Problems, Future Prospects (NSW, Australia: Lowy Institute for International Policy, 2007), 136.
65] Mohan Das, “Building Peace in Timor-Leste: A Critical Analysis,” 155.
66] __, “A Short History of East Timor 1502 – 2000.”
67] Ibid.
68] Mackie, Australia & Indonesia: Current Problems, Future Prospects, 58.
69] Taylor B. Seybolt, Humanitarian Military Intervention: The Conditions for Success and Failure, Stockholm International Peace Research Institute – SIPR (Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 2007), 87.
70] Seybolt, Humanitarian Military Intervention: The Conditions for Success and Failure, 87.
71] Ibid.
72] Ibid., 88.
73] Ibid.
74] Ibid.
75] Seybolt, Humanitarian Military Intervention: The Conditions for Success and Failure, 89.
76] Eric Schwartz, “Intervention in East Timor,” in Military Intervention: Cases in Context for the Twenty-First Century, ed. William J. Lahneman (Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, Inc., 2004), 154.
77] Ibid.
78] Ibid., 156.
79] Ibid., 160.
80] Seybolt, Humanitarian Military Intervention: The Conditions for Success and Failure, 91.
81] Ibid.
82] __, “Timor Leste – UNMIT – Background,” United Nations website, http://www.un.org/Depts/dpko/missions/unmit/index.html [viewed January 2, 2009].
83] Ibid.
84] __, “Resolving Timor-Leste’s Crisis,” International Crisis Group online, Asia Report N°120
10 October 2006, http://www.crisisgroup.org/home/index.cfm?id=4438&l=1 [viewed January 2, 2009].
85] __, “East Timor Country Brief,” Australian Government – Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade, updated 26/09/2008, http://www.dfat.gov.au/geo/east_timor/east_timor_brief.html [viewed January 2, 2009].
86] __, “Timor Leste – UNMIT – Background,” United Nations website.
87] __, “East Timor: Shot President To Be Taken To Australia,” STRATFOR, 11 February 2008, http://www.stratfor.com/sitrep/east_timor_shot_president_be_taken_australia [viewed January 2, 2009].
88] These statements are the author’s from his recollections of the two years he spent in Maputo, Mozambique as a youngster in 1993-1994. The author vividly remembers the empty shells of high-rise buildings that were started by Portuguese construction firms but abandoned when Mozambique gained its independence in 1975. The author’s father’s driver told him that he had lived in Maputo during the Portuguese emigration and remembered the Portuguese stripping out the plumbing, wiring, and even filling the elevator shafts with concrete. The author remembers seeing the blocked elevator shafts in Maputo.
89] Daniel Fitzpatrick, “Property Rights in East Timor’s Reconstruction and Development,” in East Timor: Development Challenges for the World’s Newest Nation, ed. Hal Hill and João Saldanha (Singapore: Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, 2001), 178.
90] James Scambery with help from Hippolito da Gama and João Barreto, “A Survey of Gangs and Youth Groups in Dili, Timor-Leste,” A Report Commissioned by AusAID, Sept. 15, 2006, http://www.timor-leste.org/nation_building/Scambury_Report_Youth_Gangs_Dili.pdf [viewed December 22, 2008], 1.
91] Scambery with da Gama and Barreto, “A Survey of Gangs and Youth Groups in Dili, Timor-Leste,” 4.
92] Ibid.
93] Scambery noted that JPJ stands for ‘Youth for Justice and Peace’ which translates to Juventude Para Paz e Justiça in Portuguese.
94] Scambery with da Gama and Barreto, “A Survey of Gangs and Youth Groups in Dili, Timor-Leste,” 4.
95] Ibid.
96] The GNR is a special policing unit sent to help stabilise Dili.
97] Pedersen and Arneberg, ed., “Social and Economic Conditions in East Timor,” 51.
98] Ibid., 68.
99] Pedersen and Arneberg, ed., “Social and Economic Conditions in East Timor,” 83.
100] Ibid., 104.
101] Ibid., 127
102] Ibid.
103] Kathleen Ho, “Structural Violence as a Human Rights Violation,” Essex Human Rights Review, Ho’s Master’s Dissertation, Vol. 4, No. 2 (September, 2007): 2.
104] Johan Galtung and Tord Hoivik, “Structural and Direct Violence: A Note on Operationalization,” Journal of Peace Research, Vol. 8, No. 1 (1971): 75.
105] Karena Shaw, “Indigeneity and the International,” Millennium, Vol. 31, No. 1 (2002): 61.
106] Paul Farmer, Pathologies of Power: Health, Human Rights, and the New War on the Poor (Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 2003), 30.
107] __, “A Short History of East Timor 1502 – 2000.”
108] James Traub, “Inventing East Timor,” Foreign Affairs, Vol. 79, No. 4 (Jul/Aug, 2000): 74.
109] Johan Galtung, “Cultural Violence,” Journal of Peace Research, Vol. 27, No. 3 (1990): 291.
110] Galtung, “Cultural Violence,” 296.
111] Taylor, “The Emergence of a Nationalist Movement in East Timor,” in East Timor at the Crossroads: The Forging of a Nation, 24.
112] Stephen D. Krasner, “Rethinking the sovereign state model,” Review of International Studies, Vol. 27 (2001): 19.
113] Shaw, “Indigeneity and the International,” 57.
114] Ibid., 3.
115] Mohan Das, “Building Peace in Timor-Leste: A Critical Analysis,” 150.
116] Scambery with da Gama and Barreto, “A Survey of Gangs and Youth Groups in Dili, Timor-Leste,” 2.
117] Dionisio Babo Soares, “Branching from the Trunk: East Timorese Perceptions of Nationalism in Transition,” (PhD dissertation submitted to ANU Canberra, 2003), 267-300.
118] Scambery with da Gama and Barreto, “A Survey of Gangs and Youth Groups in Dili, Timor-Leste,” 2.
119] __, “East Timor: Australia Steps In,” STRATFOR, 25 May 2006, http://www.stratfor.com/east_timor_australia_steps [viewed December 20, 2008].
120] Alkatiri was one of FRETILIN’s co-founders and co-leader of FRETILIN while in exile in Mozambique.
121] Xanana Gusmão’s full name is José Alexandre Gusmão. He is a onetime FRETILIN leader, FALINTIL commander and resistance leader during Indonesia’s occupation, and former political prisoner. Taken from: Shoesmith, “Divided Leadership in a Semi-Presidential System,” 235.
122] Ibid.
123] Ibid.
124] Anne Barker, “Alkatiri resigns as East Timor Prime Minister,” Lateline - Australian Broadcasting Corporation, TV script, http://www.abc.net.au/lateline/content/2006/s1672372.htm [viewed December 23, 2008].
125] __, “Gusmão to run for PM,” The Australian online, 29 March 2007, http://www.theaustralian.news.com.au/story/0,20867,21466137-2703,00.html [viewed 23 December, 2008].
126] Technically part of the ANZAC Battle Group deployed as part of a larger multinational deployment including Malaysian, Portuguese, and UNMIT forces.
127] Scott Hamilton, “East Timor: Anzac Troops Terrorise FRETILIN Activists,” Aotearoa Independent Media Centre, 01 April 2007, http://indymedia.org.nz/newswire/display/72819/index.php [viewed December 23, 2008].
128] Ibid.
129] __, “East Timor: A Shooting and an Australian Opportunity,” STRATFOR, 11 February 2008, http://www.stratfor.com/analysis/east_timor_shooting_and_australian_opportunity [viewed December 23, 2008].

Back to the Cold War?

2009-01-25T02:31:00.000-08:00

Should the West be concerned about Russia’s Increasingly Assertive Foreign Policy?
-Written by AJ Reibel, MIR program, New Zealand

Preface

As Russian reinforcements surged into Georgia’s break-away Southern Ossetia region in early August 2008 Western military and political strategists seemed taken by surprise. Since the fall of the Soviet Union, Russia has not acted as directly – and militarily – against a Western ally[2]. The resurgence of hostilities between Southern Ossetia paramilitary forces, with support from their Russian allies, and Georgian forces, with nominal support from their NATO and American allies, underscored an issue that Western strategists have grappled with since Vladimir Putin’s rise to power. Namely, is Russia becoming openly hostile towards the West? Many strategists have dismissed the question and have focused instead on the reasons behind the rift between Russia and the West. Is Russia trying to assert itself as a great power on the world stage or merely trying to safeguard its fundamental regional geopolitical interests? More specifically, are there signs that second Cold War is possible?

Specialists in East-European and Caucuses studies have pointed to a shift in Russian strategic and military policy since Putin’s rise to power in 1999.[3] Putin was appointed as acting president, in the aftermath of a rash of deadly bombings across Russia[4], as an enfeebled Boris Yeltsin handed the reins of the executive over to a relatively unknown former head of Russia’s intelligence agency.[5]

After Putin’s ascension to power, Russia initiated a phase of hard-hitting policy aimed at countering the wave of terrorism facing the troubled state. Putin was determined to demonstrate to his citizens that Russia would not be terrorised by separatist elements, nor would it allow a further deterioration of its economic and military power.

Here emerges the first question regarding Putin’s new policy direction. Was Putin trying to regain Russia’s past glory? In a speech given on April 25th, 2005, he admitted that “…the collapse of the Soviet Union was a major geopolitical disaster of the century.”[6] In a further series of speeches between 2004 and 2005, Putin explained that the once mighty Soviet Union – at its zenith able to defend its territory with impunity – now reduced to the Russian Federation, was unable to protect its citizens from poorly armed terrorist elements from the state’s peripheral regions. He summarised Russia’s battered psyche in a neo-realist context by explaining to his countrymen that “...[we, Russia] showed ourselves to be weak… [and] the weak get beaten.”[7]

Putin’s description of Russia as a vulnerable state calls to mind the Athenian reply to the Melians, during the Peloponnesian War of 431-404 BCE, in which the Athenians explained that “…the strong do what they can and the weak suffer what they must.”[8] In this sense, Putin suggested that while Russia was in a weakened state, internal and external actors would actively seek to further undermine its capabilities and security. Although Putin referred to the 2004 terrorist attacks on a school in Beslan, by explaining that “[states that] reason… that Russia still remains one of the world’s major nuclear powers, and still [pose] a threat to them,”[9] he insinuated that hostile great powers will work to further weaken Russia.

It is likely that Putin’s government aimed to solidify its position as a great power after the devastating and humbling 1990s. Janusz Bugajski, from the centrist Center for Strategic and International Studies, explains that the Kremlin’s strategy has been to “deepen… its dominance over [its] near neighbors and former satellites, an area the Kremlin views as a strategic extension of Russian territory.”[10] As the ongoing confrontation between Russia and Georgia over the status of Southern Ossetia and Abkhazia demonstrates, Russia is willing to extend its ‘protection’ to populations seen as loyal to Russia. This protection is not purely a matter of defending “the rights of Russians abroad,” but also a way of ensuring that Russia maintains its “place in the modern world [and within its previous sphere of influence]”.[11]

During the Putin-Medvedev administration, Russia’s foreign policy has becoming increasingly assertive, in contrast to Yeltsin’s transparent foreign policy. There are many reasons for this apparent shift in policy. However, in order to reveal the mood swing occurring within the Kremlin, it is essential to contrast the rhetoric and policies emanating from the Kremlin during the Yeltsin years and those produced under the Putin and Medvedev administrations.

To properly assess Russia’s foreign policy objectives and directives a pragmatic approach based on structural realist assumptions is necessary. My argument for a rational and guarded strategy in the face of growing Russian assertiveness includes the three following components outlined below:
1. Part I
a. an introduction of theoretical assumptions necessary to examine Russian foreign policy,
b. the identification of the two divergent analytical camps that seek to characterise Russian strategy;
2. Part II
a. an examination of Russia’s transition following the collapse of the Soviet Union,
b. an evaluation of domestic and foreign pressures on the insecure Russian state;
3. Part III
a. a conclusion regarding the existence of a ‘New Cold War’,
b. strategies that will help the West effectively deal with an assertive Moscow.

PART I

Approach

Realism, with its emphasis on man’s power-seeking and security-conscious outlook, and its systemic progeny of Structural Realism are the most appropriate ideologies for understanding Moscow’s foreign strategy formulation. As Kenneth Waltz points out in his article, “Structural Realism After the Cold War”, the threat of war between states is very real – despite the prevalence of nuclear weaponry. Waltz paraphrases Immanuel Kant in his assertion that anything can lead to a conflagration.[12] In keeping with structural realism’s key assumptions, Waltz argues that a state has the right to a) expect a sudden outbreak of hostilities with another powerful state, b) consider democracies potential enemies just as it would non-democracies and, c) pursue a security strategy independent of that of other states.[13]

Waltz points out two important assumptions that structural realists hold. Firstly, he explains dismisses the idea of a Democratic Peace by explaining that democracies undermine each other’s power-bases and actively target less democratic states.[14] Secondly, Waltz explains that in an increasingly interconnected world, interdependent states automatically relinquish a degree of power to a state that they depend more on than the state in question depends on them.[15] This core assumption – along with neo-realism’s other rational assumptions that maintain that the world is a dangerous place where state actors seek to maximise relative power vis-à-vis their competitors, war is highly likely, and the only way for a state to secure itself is for it to develop a strong deterrent and act to increase its power and influence whenever possible – has meant that Moscow sees its power undermined by an unfavourable interdependent relationship. As a result, Russia (like other states with a structural realist outlook) sees the need to develop an independent and self-confident foreign policy with enough hard power to deter competitors from openly undermining its power-base.

In addition to establishing a structural realist framework by which to examine Russian foreign policy directives, I will distinguish between two significant strategic analysis camps. The first camp perceives Russia as a threat to the West while the second maintains that Russia does not yet threaten the West. Robert C. Tucker, Katja Mirwaldt, and Vladimir I. Ivanov contend that since the most significant external threat to Moscow is its potential loss of political, military, and economic influence vis-à-vis its competitors. Mirwaldt and Ivanov, in Global Security Governance: Competing Perceptions of Security in the 21st Century, point out that Russia’s major concerns comprise a triumvirate of “...US unilateralism, NATO expansion, [and the] [c]ircumvention of the UN Security Council...”[16] Mirwaldt and Ivanov’s warnings, infused with Tucker’s Cold War demonization of a Marxist Moscow, urge the West to be suspicious of Sino-Russian relations.[17]

Henry Hale, Rein Taagepera, and Hannes Adomeit, some of the leading academics and strategists that are associated with the ‘Russia is not a threat’ camp, consider the opposing camp’s arguments simplistic and alarmist. In his article, titled “Russia as a ‘Great Power’ in World Affairs”, Adomeit discounts simplistic explanations of ethnic resentment or of Russia’s “hurt pride” and “inferiority complexes” among Russian policymakers as reasons for Moscow’s irregular and unpredictable foreign policy following the collapse of the Soviet Union.[18] Hale and Taagepera, in “Russia: Consolidation or Collapse?”, carry on the study of Russia beyond simply predicting that Moscow will engage with the West again, but state that it may eventually fully open itself to Western investment, institutions, norms, and liberal democracy. Furthermore, they stress that by discussing Russia’s inevitable decline and partition, its rapid and unstable disintegration may become a reality.[19] As a result, they discount that Russia’s rapid demise as a valid strategic consideration.

Although the debate between whether or not Russia threatens the West is a valid one, it fails to forecast and chart out a pragmatic course of action for dealing with the Kremlin. Edward Lucas importantly expands the discussion on an assertive Russia. Nonetheless, he draws a misleading conclusion by suggesting that, if the West fails to wake-up to a Russian danger, Moscow may emerge triumphant. His alarmist publication, The New Cold War: How the Kremlin Menaces Both Russia and the West, presents the dangerous and misleading idea that the West is engaged in another irreconcilable standoff with Moscow.

PART II

The Yeltsin and Putin Years

Both internal and external Kremlin policies have evolved since the fall of the Soviet Union in 1991. Boris Yeltsin was instrumental in laying the groundwork for post-Soviet Russia. Yeltsin, who began his political career as an official in the Yekaterina construction industry, rose to prominence in Russian politics after his appointment as first secretary of Sverdolovsk province and representative of the Ural Mountain province at the Central Committee of the (Communist) Party in Moscow.[20] Through skilful politicking, Yeltsin secured the post of Moscow Party Secretary, a post that opened his eyes to the severe “…limitations and… unintended consequences of [Mikhail] Gorbachev’s reforms.”[21] Despite his criticism of Gorbachev’s perestroika policies, in June of 1991, Yeltsin was able to win the presidency of the Russian Soviet Federation Socialist Republic (at the time, one of the republics was under the overall direction of the USSR).[22] Yeltsin’s soaring popularity helped him resist the unsuccessful coup attempt of the summer of 1991 and, ultimately, cement his position as the first president of the newly independent Russia.[23]

Under Yeltsin’s new government, Russia mainly focused on threats to its economy. The National Security Concept, signed by Yeltsin in December 1997, outlined that “…the operative threats to Russia [lay] not in the international system, but in Russia’s internal conditions… [namely,] economic decline, instability, and societal problems.”[24] Furthermore, Yeltsin identified the solutions to Russia’s most pressing challenges as continuing economic and political reform, stability, and development[25] – indicators of a period of relative economic and security cooperation between Russia and the United States.

Yeltsin’s administration projected a schizophrenic foreign policy. Kremlin policymakers tried to “mix [both] statist and liberal ideas and interests” by insisting that Russia work cooperatively with the international community and that its economy be included in neo-liberal free-market organisations, while at the same time demanding that Russia be recognised as a great power with an independent foreign policy.[26] Paul Kubicek, a specialist in post-Communist politics and Central Asian affairs, points to the fluctuating Russian policies.[27]
Since 1991, its general pattern has swung from one of cooperation with the West to one of direct confrontation over issues such as Bosnia, NATO expansion, and Russia's assertion of a sphere of influence in other post-Soviet states.[28]
As Russia found itself with an enfeebled economy and a society mired in despair, Yeltsin’s government was forced to adopt Western economic models and agree to neo-liberal economic adjustments. The battered Russian economy went through a period of increased poverty and seemingly insoluble social disintegration. People’s savings vanished; a gulf emerged between rich and poor (a shocking aspect of capitalism that few citizens of the Soviet Union had been fully exposed to); factories closed down; and, a select few made fortunes while the majority of the populace seemed destined to starve to death.[29] Russians mocked the government’s catchphrases of the decade, democratiya and privatisatsiya, and instead substituted them with the following: dermokratsiya (shit-o-cracy) and prikhvatisatsiya (pirate-isation).[30]

Throughout the years of economic vulnerability, Russia was unable to assert itself as the ‘great power’ that its statesmen insisted it was. In the eyes of the populace, the state seemed impotent in the face of mounting violent and corporate crime and was seen as unable to provide basic security to its citizens.[31] As Yeltsin and his political supporters looked to the West for examples of democratic reform and neo-liberal free-market policies, foreign policy issues that might have proven a thorn in the side of Russian-Western relations were sidelined, ignored, or compromised. These included NATO expansion, the pursuit of hydrocarbon concessions, and democratisation within former Soviet republics.

Russia’s only prominent foreign policy positions during the Yeltsin years focused on its near-abroad – an area comprised of the former Soviet Republics and satellite states. Yeltsin’s administration opposed NATO air strikes on Serbian positions during the Balkans War; supported the imposition of an arms embargo on Serbian, Croat, Bosnian, and Serbian forces; exerted politico-military pressure (by way of its ‘peacekeeping missions’) on Tajikistan[32]; intervened on behalf of Abkhazian separatists in their war against Georgia and then later intervened in order to halt a counter-coup aimed at overthrowing Eduard Shevardnadze[33]; allowed its forces to engage Moldovan troops and aid Trans-Dniester forces; and tied its withdrawal of Russian forces from Estonia to an agreement with the country’s government after protesting that Estonia was perpetrating a campaign of ethnic discrimination against its ethnic Russians.[34] Although Hannes Adomeit attributes these examples to Russia’s neo-imperialist revival[35], these actions supported the Kremlin’s neo-realist aims to maximise its relative power and ensure its influence over its former territories under the guise of ensuring stability in the CIS region (considered by the Kremlin to be its near-abroad).

During the Yeltsin years, despite Russia’s posturing along its borders, the Kremlin was not fully able to pursue its interests beyond its defenceless near-abroad. The West’s relative apathy towards the Kremlin’s manoeuvrings in Tajikistan, Moldova, Georgia, Estonia, and Latvia invited a nominal level of Russian manipulation. Moreover, Russia’s foreign actions during the Yeltsin years were a blip in a policy centred on cooperation and integration with Western economic and institutional organisations. The desire to ‘westernise’ Russia was a knee-jerk reaction to the tumult of the Soviet decline and was an attempt to keep the Russian economy afloat during a period of dwindling economic productivity and alarming social deterioration.

The Yeltsin years were necessary as they allowed for a transition to a free-market economic model. Nonetheless, as the country tried to recover from the shock of the sudden collapse of the Soviet system, it was brought to its knees and to the brink of disintegration. Vladimir Putin was Yeltsin’s answer to a decade that promised increased freedoms and economic security for average Russian families but that, instead, saw the rise of powerful organised crime syndicates, the evaporation of average families’ savings, and widespread government bungling, combined with rampant corruption.

Putin was favoured as Yeltsin’s predecessor after a tumultuous period in which Yeltsin cut short the political aspirations of former protégés. Ironically, Putin’s initial months in office were unimpressive. However, he quickly found his composure after the presidential election in March 2000.[36]

Strategists predicted that Putin would move in one of three possible directions: a) he would remain an unimpressive and timid president without much real power; b) he would manage to pull off the near impossible by reforming the Russian economy, re-establishing order and stability, and reducing the power of corporate oligarchs who made fortunes during the decade of instability[37]; or, c) he would return Russia to its authoritarian past.[38]

Putin’s leadership broke with Yeltsin’s jovial, yet misguided, and often uncouth style. His cold, sober, and serious public persona contrasted with Yeltsin’s political insincerity, notorious drunken behaviour, and poor health. In an example of public approval of their hardworking and a ‘morally virtuous’ president, a Russian pop group, called Singing Together, released a chart-topper that had the following lyrics:
“I want a man who doesn’t drink, doesn’t smoke and doesn’t beat me. I want a man like Putin.”[39]
Putin was seen as the responsible and paternal guardian of the state. Furthermore, his political formulation and KGB career helped endear him to a people tired of anarchy and hardship.

In Putin’s mind, the most pressing danger to the Russian Federation lay in its disintegration. His response, however, was quite different to Yeltsin’s. In a sequence akin to that of a Hollywood political action drama, a series of bombings between August 31st and September 16th, 1999, killed 277 people in Moscow and peripheral regions.[40] Immediately, the Kremlin’s investigators blamed Chechen separatists for the terrorist attacks, and Putin vowed to “wipe-out” the terrorists.[41] It is interesting to note that Mr. Trepashkin, himself a former FSB officer that investigated the 1999 bombings, concluded that the FSB was behind the attacks and that the Kremlin managed to manipulate public sentiment and divert attention away from its intelligence services.[42] Consequently, Mr. Trepashkin was imprisoned for 3 years for voicing his opinion. He claims to have been threatened to keep him from divulging more information regarding alleged FSB involvement in the poisoning of Alexander Litvenenko.[43]

Despite creating an atmosphere of paranoia and a sense that the population was under siege, the Kremlin’s firm response solidified public sentiment behind Putin. Putin managed to strengthen a ‘Russian’ identity – especially a sense of an identity under attack by dangerous and criminal foreigners. Moreover, he declared that “…[a major] reason [that Russia was] fighting in Chechnya was precisely because of the danger of state collapse…” and that its soldiers were not only protecting Russian honour, but also “putting an end to the disintegration of Russia.”[44]

On the home-front, Putin set about breaking the stranglehold that private interests had on the Kremlin. His administration managed to “[subordinate] to the state’s writ the oligarchs… and [place] much of their assets under state control.”[45] In addition to crushing internal private-sector resistance to his leadership, Putin strengthened the state’s arm by asserting its control over criminal elements active in the national economy. Mafia syndicates went into legitimate business and consented to the Kremlin’s direction, were quickly dismembered and their leaders shipped-off to Russian penal colonies in Siberia, or fled abroad. Despite Putin’s curtailing of democratic freedoms, his approval rating was astronomical. Edward Lucas points out that in a newspaper poll conducted in 2007, only 30% of respondents believed that there was a need for opposition parties and that the Kremlin’s policies could be modified.[46]

Just as Putin’s rigid and officious administration broke with Yeltsin’s inept and laissez-faire domestic policies, Putin’s foreign policies also diverged from those of his predecessor. High-level Russian strategists decided that Russia’s path to stability, economic productivity, and territorial integrity lay not in acquiescing to the West but in carving-out an independent and neo-realist path – even if it meant challenging Western interests for the good of Russia. Putin stated, in his last official interview as Russian President, that, although Russia was not interested in a return to a Cold War standoff with the US, “[the Kremlin had] the right to fight for [Russian] interests in the same way as [Russia’s] partners [had pursued their self-interest].”[47]

Furthermore, Putin’s Kremlin was wary of external threats aimed at undermining Russia’s ability to strengthen itself “...as a centre of influence in the multipolar world.”[48] Russian military and foreign policy strategists viewed pre-emption, military approaches, and unilateral actions as vital policy choices paramount to fulfilling their respective security objectives.[49] Russia’s currently independent foreign policy – driven by a desire to maximise relative power and protect its interests in the near abroad – reveals the Kremlin’s neo-realist (yet not necessarily expansionist) strategic mindset.

The Russian public seems to support the Kremlin’s interest-maximising strategies, especially when self-interest is cloaked in national ideals and values. Lucas points out that “…when [ordinary Russians] see their president being tough with the West, they feel proud.”[50] The Kremlin portrays its interventions and policies towards its ‘near east’ as necessary in order to ensure regional security and to protect minority groups (often Russian-speaking) in countries such as Estonia or territories like Southern Ossetia. President Dmitri Medvedev explained Russian policy towards Georgia on the evening of the 8th of August, 2008, he “invoked Russia’s historical role as ‘guarantor of security’ in the Caucasus.”[51]

Although Russia’s rhetoric towards the West has changed since the tumultuous and uncertain years under Yeltsin and despite calls to the contrary emanating from Washington, Russia does not wish to actively engage the West in a war – neither along ideological nor geostrategic lines. So, why then is Putin’s/Medvedev’s Russia seen as increasingly assertive and confrontational towards the West?

Western Actions and Russian Reactions

To see why Russia is viewed as a potential aggressor and increasingly hostile actor by the West, it is necessary to trace Russia’s defensive reactions to Western policies. Why does the West provoke the Kremlin by encroaching into its near-abroad and expect it to remain docile? There are three significant fears that the Kremlin harbours regarding Western strategy: a) the diminution of Russia’s hydrocarbon hegemony; b) the ongoing eastern extension of NATO; and, c) the installation of counter-missile defences near Russia’s western border and within its strategic buffer-zone, its near-abroad.

[52]

Russia’s newfound and independent policy is tied to its economic stability and growth. Despite impressive economic figures, a large portion of the Kremlin’s revenue comes from the oil, gas, and mineral sectors. According to the CIA World Factbook, “…oil, natural gas, metals, and timber account for more than 80% of exports and 30% of government revenues.”[53] As world demand (and the price) for hydrocarbons soars, Russia has been able to add foreign reserves to its Central Bank’s coffers. It accumulated roughly $48 billion in 2002, $37 billion in 2001, $28 billion in 2000, and $12.5 billion in 1999.[54] In order for Russia to maximise its oil and gas reserves (and the reserves of the states in its near abroad) it is necessary for the Kremlin to control the gas and oil pipelines that transport hydrocarbons to lucrative European markets. Any private or foreign government effort to circumvent Russian pipelines is a threat to Russian economic interests.

The United States, key European allies, Turkey, Georgia, Azerbaijan, and a handful of investors backed a pipeline project to transport Caspian Sea oil from Azerbaijan and Kazakhstan to Europe via Turkey. The major private investors comprise the following state-owned oil companies: State Oil Company of Azerbaijan Republic (SOCAR), Stateoil (the Norwegian state-owned oil company), and Turkish Petroleum Corporation (TPAO).[55] While the following comprise the list of privately owned companies: British Petroleum (BP), ChevronTexaco, Total, Eni/Agip, Itochu, ConocoPhillips, Inpex, Amarada Hess, Exxon Mobil, and Devon Energy.[56] The project is known as the Baku-T'bilisi-Ceyhan (BTC) pipeline. It skirts Russian territory while it transports gas and oil from Azerbaijan, through Georgia, and to Turkey’s Mediterranean coast.[57] The pipeline, built at a cost of $3 billion, transported 850,000 barrels per day (bpd) before it was shut down when recent hostilities broke out in Georgia.[58] As a result, Azerbaijani oil has been diverted through Russia and is being transported by railroad to the Russian Caspian Sea oil port of Novorossiysk. Furthermore, Russian forces have largely cut off Georgia’s railroad network, and by doing so, simultaneously prevented oil transport contingency plans to Georgian Caspian Sea ports.[59]

[60]

The recent conflagration between US-trained Georgian forces and a combination of the Russian 58th Army, Southern Ossetia militias, and ad-hoc paramilitary forces seems to have caught the international media, preparing for an Olympic spectacle on a record-shattering scale, by surprise. Given what is at stake for the Kremlin, Western strategists should hardly have been surprised by Russia’s massive military drive into Southern Ossetia in order to counter what President Medvedev called, “[a] barbaric [act of] aggression by the Georgian authorities” and hinder the exportation of gas through infrastructure beyond the Kremlin’s control.[61]

Washington is unsettling both Moscow and Beijing as it pursues a strategy to open-up Central Asian markets and access the region’s energy supplies. In their article, “The Eurasian Drug Trade: A Challenge to Regional Security”, Svante E. Cornell and Niklas L. P. Swanstrom explain that since “…the United States is heavily invested in Afghanistan [and is concerned about] the development of alternative sources of energy,” the US and its Western allies find themselves “…increasingly dependent on the continued stability and development of the Central Eurasian region.”[62] Russia has reason to worry about an American encroachment into another gas and oil-rich region that it virtually has locked into its energy cartel.[63] In order to try to force the United States out of the region, the Kremlin has moved to strengthen its security ties with Central Asian states under the framework of the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation (SCO).

A second important threat perceived by the Kremlin is NATO’s eastward expansion. Putin initially made overtures to NATO (including closing an eavesdropping radar station in Lourdes, Cuba and its naval base in Cam Ranh Bay, Vietnam)[64]; however, his tune quickly changed as the Kremlin saw the organisation’s eastern expansion plans. His policy change has been based on NATO’s intention to offer states in the near-abroad an umbrella of Western security, while initiating closer economic cooperation with the United States and the EU. This is another factor in the tense Moscow-Tblisi standoff. If arresting Tbilisi’s NATO aspirations is too far a stretch, then the Kremlin hopes to at least, “…dissuade NATO from approving a Membership Action Plan [MAP] for Georgia at the alliance’s December 2008 or April 2009 meetings.”[65] In the short term, Kremlin geostrategic planners hope to “…derail the North Atlantic Council’s assessment visit to Georgia, scheduled for September, or at least to influence the visit’s assessment about Georgia’s eligibility for a MAP.”[66]

Thirdly, the Kremlin has repeatedly pointed to the American policy double-standard: Bush’s insistence that Russia is a good friend, while blindly pursuing Washington’s interests in Russia’s neighbourhood at the expense of Russia’s regional influence. Putin has repeatedly insisted that NATO’s inclusion of Georgia and Ukraine is redline and unacceptable to his government.[67] Not only did the Kremlin react furiously over “[Washington’s] support for the independence of Kosovo,” but it views Washington’s plans to build a tracking radar installation in the Czech Republic and an interceptor missile facility in Poland as detrimental to its own missile capabilities.[68] Victor Kremenyuk, the deputy director of the USA-Canada Institute in Moscow, “…says the U.S. was unduly provocative in the way [it] set up anti-missile [defences] in Russia's backyard.”[69]

Despite the Kremlin’s apparent alarm over the burgeoning economic development of several states of the Former Soviet Union (FSU), the Kremlin has more reason to be wary of NATO expansion and the positioning of missile defence installations in the Czech Republic and Poland. The Bush administration has repeatedly stated that the installations would be aimed at neutralising a missile attack from Iran. Moscow has suggested that, if Washington is serious about counteracting Iranian capabilities, it should site its installations in Azerbaijan.[70] The Kremlin maintains that the American rejection of the Azerbaijani option proves that Washington’s strategy is, in fact, to counteract Russian capabilities. For this reason, the Kremlin has questioned Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice’s announcement that the anti-missile system will remain transparent to Moscow.

Russia has reason to be concerned about the growing Western influence around its eastern and southern borders. However, Russia has not been idle. The Kremlin has worked within a neo-realist framework in order to counter what it sees as growing American power. It has continued to sell lucrative weapon systems to its friendly client-states – Iran, China, Syria, and Venezuela[71] – while cooperating with the emerging Chinese power. Additionally, Russia has resumed regular strategic bomber flights beyond its borders.[72] Recent comments made by Leonid Ivashov, the former director of the Russian Ministry of Defence’s Department for International Cooperation, have sparked fears of a return to the Cold War Cuban Missile standoff by stating that the Kremlin may counter Western encirclement with “…military presence abroad, including in Cuba.”[73]

It is easy for the media and Western capitals to point to assertive rhetoric and policies emerging from the Kremlin; however, Western action has been interpreted as a menace to Russian strategic interests. Nonetheless, the cause of Russian assertiveness is not solely based on Western actions and strategies; domestic pressures also weigh heavily on Kremlin strategic thought.

Domestic Forces

Domestic opinion has played an integral role in Putin’s and Medvedev’s policies. Although Putin’s nostalgia for past Soviet glory mines a deep vein of popular sentiment, it is surprising to most foreign observers. Nevertheless, “…most Russians feel that the Soviet Union was a time of great national achievement,” and do not comprehend how Western populations can think otherwise.[74] Perhaps most striking is the fact that “…more than 60% [of young Russians] agree with their [former] president that [the Soviet Union’s] collapse was a catastrophe.”[75]

Sergei Blagov, a specialist in the CIS, points out that a majority of Russians have misgivings about NATO intentions and see NATO expansion as “…a danger to Russian interests.”[76] Domestic mistrust of the West’s intentions does not simply signal that Russia will look to make common cause with other possible Western rivals. In light of Western media attention on Russia’s growing dismay at Western strategy and, as a result, a growing closeness to China, Yu Bin, a Senior Fellow at the Shanghai Institute of American Studies, explains that a 2007 survey found a majority of Russians also view China “...as the second ‘potential enemy’ [to their state].”[77]

It is no secret that virulent xenophobia and extreme nationalism are becoming more pronounced within Russian society. The reasons for the rise in nationalist (and ultranationalist) organisations and racial intolerance are multipart. Firstly, the Russian population is contracting while the state’s hydrocarbon-driven economy continues to attract immigrant labour. The mounting influx of foreigners, combined with a rapidly shrinking ethnic Slavic Russian population (estimated to by 100 million by 2050)[78], has stoked fear among segments of the Russian population. Russian media sources regularly decry Russia’s depopulation and announce that “the demographic catastrophe has arrived” or that “Russia is dying out!”[79]

What is striking about the overall Russian population is its general lack of well-being. Dmitri Trenin, the Deputy Director of the Carnegie Moscow Center and Senior Fellow of the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, paints a bleak picture of the decline of the general Russian standard of living.

Physical and mental health, education levels, professional skills, and living and working standards have all deteriorated since the end of the Soviet welfare state. Life expectancy, which had taken a plunge in the early 1990s, remains notoriously low (67.66 years compared to Poland’s 73), especially for males… Between 500,000 and 700,000 people die of alcoholism or alcohol-related causes every year, and 35,000 die in road collisions. Twenty percent of youngsters use drugs, if occasionally. The number of street children, not all of whom are orphans, is over 700,000.[80]

Russians are acutely aware that despite the luxurious lives of the upper strata of society, the standard of living of ordinary people has declined substantially since the collapse of the Soviet Union.

A noticeable result of an unhealthy and rapidly declining population, and a rapid influx of immigrants – both legal and illegal – is an explosion of violence directed at immigrants.[81] Amnesty International is just one of many NGOs that have expressed alarm at the rise of race-based attacks across Russia. Furthermore, there is tacit government support for xenophobic slogans and youth movements. In 2007, a law backed by Putin banned foreign workers from being employed in Russian retail markets.[82] Tacit government-backed xenophobic slogans and youth movements have seen nationalist and incendiary slogans, such as ‘Russia for Russians’, increasingly supported by Russian society.[83] According to Aleksandr Verkhovsky, the Director of the SOVA Center for Information and Analysis, “approximately 50 percent of Russian citizens hold prejudiced views towards foreigners and [various] ethnic groups.”[84]

The Kremlin is taking a dangerous gamble as it refuses to reign-in mounting nationalism. It hopes to ride the rising wave of national patriotism (and ensure that public opinion remains firmly behind its self-assured foreign policy), while ignoring the destabilising elements of Russia’s ultranationalist movements. Furthermore, the Russian government’s support for mildly nationalist youth movements, such as Nashi, or the more extremist Mestnye – which ran a campaign urging Russians to shun taxis driven by non-Russians – is cause for concern, especially as a “2007 estimate is that 500,000 young Russians belong to extremist youth groups.”[85] The Kremlin risks losing control the virulent wave of extreme nationalism that it seems to currently overlook.

Putin has repeatedly played to his apprehensive and frustrated domestic public. Many of Putin’s speeches invoke nostalgia for past Soviet glory and an insistence that “Russia was, is and will [always] be a major European power.”[86] In addition to rising intolerance, the Russian public projects a general distaste for what is perceived as American condescension and hypocrisy. Since the Iraq War, the “overwhelmingly negative public image of the United States and its Western allies – carefully sustained by the Russian government – sharply limits the United States' advice on Russia's domestic [and international] affairs.”[87]

It is likely that Russia’s assertive foreign policy is a result of a combination of foreign and domestic pressure. As the country teeters towards socio-cultural isolationism, a population that feels under siege and a cynical administration will perpetuate an uncompromising foreign policy. The Kremlin will have no reason to change its neo-realist outlook that dismisses cooperative efforts based on shared values and looks to maximise its power vis-à-vis other states.

PART III

Is a ‘New Cold War’ Looming?

Despite the pressure on its society and the rising tension between the Kremlin and the West, the ‘New Cold War’ that Edward Lucas describes is highly unlikely. There are several reasons for why it is unlikely that such a prolonged standoff will materialise between Moscow and Washington. Firstly, Russia’s military capacity is nowhere close to a capable and battle-hardened as it was during its zenith during the Soviet years. Secondly, and in spite of Russia’s burgeoning economy, the Kremlin realises that its economic growth has a very narrow base, and is particularly vulnerable. Thirdly, Moscow no longer has the wide base of support that the Soviet Union once had.

Russia’s military has declined substantially despite the fact that its nuclear arsenal has remained an impressive deterrent.

Today, the operational capability of Russia’s Armed Forces in major, local and regional conflicts is limited by the lack of training on division level and above. In addition, the ability to use weapons platforms is limited due to, for example, the lack of flight hours for pilots.[88] Not only has the quality of Russian military instruction and infrastructure deteriorated, as suggested by the excerpt above, but an inefficient conscription system has produced systemically low morale throughout the armed forces. Major Gregory Celestan points out that only 50% of those called to serve in the Russian armed forces actually report for duty.[89] Furthermore, he points out that a professional non-commissioned officer corps, which forms the backbone of a modern professional military, is non-existent as promotion to a non-commissioned rank is based on favouritism and longevity of service rather than merit.[90] As a result, the Kremlin possesses an ill-equipped, demoralised, and poorly administered military machine.

In addition to Russia’s military deterioration and its exposed economy, Russia is strategically isolated. Despite the fear in Washington that Russia has moved to improve its relations with China, “Russian strategists recognize that an alliance with China… would be Beijing rather than Moscow-led.”[91] Gone are the days when the Soviet Union could count on the loyalty of client-states, such as Cuba, and the capability of its Warsaw-Pact allies. Moscow’s nominal allies – Armenia, Tajikistan, and Belarus – are respectively too “self-centered”, un-loyal, or independent.[92] Ironically, Dmitri Trenin points out that “Russia’s only true allies, just as 120 years ago, are its own Army and Navy.”[93] As a result, the Kremlin is furiously trying to bolster its military and economic power and boost its international partnerships.

Strategy in the Face of an Awakening Bear

How can the West, specifically the United States, work towards improving relations with the Kremlin? For starters, the United States needs to re-evaluate the policies that dictate its relationship with Russia. American policymakers need to set aside the dated and romantic idea that the US emerged morally victorious after the end of the Cold War and can, therefore, dictate moral behaviour to other states. The American moral example has been severely dented by President G. W. Bush’s invasion of Iraq. Furthermore, moral lectures to the Kremlin, or any other major power, automatically undermine American strategy.[94] Without recognising the ineffectual and largely insincere – since American-backed free-market policies instituted by Yeltsin’s government resulted in “the triumph of criminality” and a growing economic divide between the rich and the impoverished – “US policy toward Russia during the Yeltsin period,” American overtures will continue to be suspect.[95]

Secondly, the United States must recognise that Russian foreign policymaking is based on a dangerous mix of neo-realist cynicism and a national inferiority complex. There is no place for idealism or self-delusion when dealing with the Kremlin. It must be accepted that Russia is not, nor is ever likely to become, a liberal democracy. Russia has never in its history experienced a stable period of democracy and there is no reason that it will suddenly adopt truly free and fair elections, reign in its national monopolies, and discard its powerful state-security enforcement mechanisms. Dimitri K. Simes urges that the Kremlin be approached with “realism and determination.”[96] When dealing with the Kremlin, the West must be pragmatic and prepare for the worst.

Vladimir Socor, a Senior Fellow at the Jamestown Foundation, a centrist think tank with a focus on the FSU, points-out that when dealing with the Kremlin the West needs to be united and firm. Part of standing united and firm will mean that Washington will need to bridge the rift with mainland Europe and, while doing so, work to strengthen the EU’s cohesion. Furthermore, Socor has insisted that NATO and its major backers act decisively when considering Georgia’s MAP, and future NATO expansion. He explains that “NATO’s recent failure to approve [Georgia’s admittance to the organisation] at the April 2008 summit emboldened Russia to escalate operations against [Tbilisi].”[97] Vacillation and discord demonstrate weakness, and weakness is an invitation for aggression.

Thirdly, the West needs to wean itself from its oil and gas dependency. Although President George W. Bush acknowledged that the US needs to break its oil addiction by revolutionising the energy industry[98], there has been little action in moving away from oil dependence. In addition to implementing a coherent policy, the US must help Europe develop one, as well. A short-term solution aimed at lessening Russia’s leverage over Europe may be to further tap North American reserves and offer Europe other energy sources. At the same time, the US should include Europe in its search to find viable alternatives to oil – including developing hydrogen-powered transportation, clean coal-powered generating plants, upgrading to safe nuclear technologies, and turning to man-made geo-thermal power production.

Fourthly, the West must stand-up to Russia, while rejecting the notion that it is involved in a ‘new’ Cold War. The belief that the West is seeking another showdown with Russia only serves to bolster the credibility of a few hardliners that are a throwback to “a delusionary Soviet mentality.”[99] Like an adult dealing with a petulant child, the West must not tolerate Russian bullying and invasions of its allies in the Baltic region (Estonia) or Caucasus (Georgia). Washington should not, however, over-react to Russian provocation or snares. Most importantly, Washington policymakers must make sure that their European allies also don’t react independently to Russian provocation.

The West should engage with the Kremlin and acknowledge its influence along its periphery, and should encourage it to act responsibly.[100] However, respect must not give way to apathy, especially when the Kremlin intimidates and forces its small neighbours into submission.

Lastly, despite growing cooperation between Russia and China through the SCO and other agreements, the West should not seek to undermine the burgeoning organisation. Instead, the SCO should be seen as a useful actor that will serve to temper Russian policies. While the Kremlin seeks to solidify its security arrangements with Beijing, the US should work to strengthen its economic and diplomatic ties with China. Beijing has long come in from the cold and does not seek to upset the close economic and diplomatic relationship that it has developed with Washington. Furthermore, Beijing is wary of Russian attempts to exploit the separatist quality of Trans-Dniester, Abkhazia, and Southern Ossetia. China is uneasy over the recent Tibetan uprising and ongoing Uighur unrest in Xinjiang province. Beijing has expressed alarm at Russia’s recent betrayal[101] of a fundamental SCO aim – that of working against separatism and secessionism – in its dealings with the break-away republics of Southern Ossetia and Abkhazia. For the time being, the SCO is no more than an impressive “…debating club rather than a genuine alliance.”[102]

The West should further keep in mind that, despite the impressive statistics that the SCO boasts, there exist competing interests amongst its central members. Russia and China look to the SCO for very different reasons. China wants access to the energy-rich Central Asian steppe, whereas Russia wants the SCO to emerge as a counterweight to an expanding NATO.[103] The West needs to work to keep the SCO as it is – a negotiating forum designed to reduce tensions between Beijing and Moscow.

Strategy aside, the West must realise that Russia is looking to recover from the humiliation it suffered during the 1990s and to protect its strategic interests. In light of its desire to secure a prominent position among great powers, the West must not provoke the Kremlin if it is unwilling to then resolutely stand-up to it. Furthermore, the West must keep in mind that the Kremlin’s policies are being fuelled by domestic pressures, as well as international ones. It is certain that there are worrisome trends emerging within Russian society, its government, and its foreign policy; however, identifying the Kremlin as an imminent strategic threat is counter-productive and will simply embolden the hardliners within the Kremlin – making future dialogue with Russia more difficult.

_____

FOOTNOTES
[1] Frank James, “The Russians Have a Parade,” The Swamp – The Chicago Tribune’s Washington Bureau, May 9th, 2008, http://www.swamppolitics.com/news/politics/blog/foreign_policy/ [viewed 19/08/08].
[2] Although Russian forces had been involved in the 1991-1992 Georgian conflict, during the early 1990s Georgia was not a close Western ally. Since Mikheil Saakashvili came to power in 2004, Georgia has increasingly looked towards the West. Georgia joined the Coalition of the Willing and sent troops to aid the American-led coalition efforts to rebuild Iraq. Although Georgia was not offered a NATO Membership Action Plan (MAP) in April, 2008, it had previously signed a Partnership for Peace Agreement (PFP) with NATO in 2005 – tentatively the first step toward NATO inclusion. Taken from; __, “NATO Denies Georgia and Ukraine,” BBC News, April 03, 2008, http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/7328276.stm [viewed: 18/08/08].
[3] Edward Lucas, The New Cold War: How the Kremlin Menaces Both Russia and the West (London, New York, Berlin: Bloomsbury Publishing, 2008), 10.
[4] The spate of bombings commenced on the 31st of August, 1999 with an explosion in a Moscow underground market and included a car bombing in Dagestan on the 4th of September, a bombing in an nine-storey building in Moscow on the 8th of September, a second bombing in an eight-storey Moscow building on the 13th of September, and a truck-bomb in southern Russia on the 16th of September. Over the course of 17 days, 277 people were killed in terrorist attacks attributed, by the Kremlin, to separatist Chechen fighters. Taken from: Lucas, The New Cold War, 30.
[5] Ibid., 30.
[6] Speech given by Former President Vladimir Putin (translated into English), April 25, 2005, The Kremlin, Moscow, The President of Russia – English website, http://www.kremlin.ru/eng/speeches/2005/04/25/2031_type70029type82912_87086.shtml [viewed 17/08/08].
[7] Speech given by Former President Vladimir Putin (translated into English), September 4th, 2004, The Kremlin, Moscow, The President of Russia – English website, http://www.kremlin.ru/eng/speeches/2004/09/04/1958_type82912_76332.shtml [viewed 17/08/08].
[8] Christopher LaMonica, International Politics: The Classic Texts, 2nd edition (Dubuque, Iowa: Kendall/Hunt Publishing Company, 2004), 54. Taken from: Joseph Gavorse, ed., The Complete Writings of Thucydides - the Peloponnesian War (New York: Modern Library, 1934).
[9] Speech by Putin (translated into English), September 4th, 2004, The President of Russia – English website.
[10] Janusz Bugajski, “US Policy Toward Russia,” Center for Strategic and International Studies, American Enterprise Institute Conference, 13 July, 2006, http://www.csis.org/component/option,com_csis_pubs/task,view/id,4752/type,1/ [viewed 16/08/08].
[11] Speech by Putin (translated into English), April 25, 2005, The President of Russia – English website.
[12] Kenneth Waltz, “Structural Realism After the Cold War,” International Security, Vol. 25, No. 1 (Summer, 2001): 8.
[13] Ibid., 12-16.
[14] Ibid., 12.
[15] Ibid., 15-16.
[16] Katja Mirwaldt and Vladimir I Ivanov, “Russia: Struggling for dignity,” in Global Security Governance: competing Perceptions of Security in the 21st Century, ed. Emil Joseph Kirchner and James Sperling (New York: Routledge, 2007), 243.
[17] Ibid., 256.
[18] Hannes Adomeit, “Russia as a ‘Great Power’ in World Affairs: Images and Reality,” International Affairs (Royal Institute of International Affairs 1944-), Vol. 71, No. 1 (Jan., 1995): 35.
[19] Henry E. Hale and Rein Taagepra, “Russia: Consolidation or Collapse?” Europe-Asia Studies, Vol. 54, No. 7 (Nov., 2002): 1120.
[20] Dimitri K. Simes, After the Collapse: Russia Seeks Its Place as a Great Power (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1999), 49.
[21] Ibid.
[22] George W. Breslauer, “Personalism Versus Proceduralism,” in Russia in the New Century: Stability or Disorder?, ed. Victoria E. Bonnell and George W. Breslauer (Boulder, Oxford: Westview Press, 2001), 39.
[23] Veljko Vujacic, “Serving Mother Russia,” in Russia in the New Century: Stability or Disorder?, ed. Victoria E. Bonnell and George W. Breslauer (Boulder, Oxford: Westview Press, 2001), 291.
[24] Celeste A. Wallander, “The Russian National Security Concept: A Liberal-Statist Synthesis,” PONARS Policy Memo, July 1998, Harvard University, Center for Strategic and International Studies, http://www.csis.org/media/csis/pubs/pm_0030.pdf [viewed 17/08/08], 2.
[25] Igor Zevelev, “The Redefinition of the Russian Nation, International Security, and Stability,” in Russia in the New Century: Stability or Disorder?, ed. Victoria E. Bonnell and George W. Breslauer (Boulder, Oxford: Westview Press, 2001), 266.
[26] Wallander, “The Russian Security Concept: A Liberal-Statist Synthesis,” 4.
[27] Paul Kubicek, “Russian Foreign Policy and the West,” Political Science Quarterly, Vol. 114, No. 4 (Winter, 1999-2000): 567.
[28] Ibid., 547.
[29] Lucas, The New Cold War: How the Kremlin Menaces Both Russia and the West, 41-42.
[30] Ibid., 44.
[31] Michael McFaul, “A Precarious Peace: Domestic Politics in the Making of Russian Foreign Policy,” International Security, Vol. 22, No. 3 (Winter, 1997-1998): 15.
[32] Between 1992 and 1993, Russian forces aided a pro-Kremlin government in Dushanbe during the Tajik Civil War.
[33] Eduard Shevardnadze seized power by way of a coup d’état that overthrew President Zviad Gamsakhurdia in 1991. Russia originally armed Abkhaz separatists in their struggle against Tbilisi’s government and then turned a blind eye when Shevardnadze seized power. Only when Gamsakhurdia emerged from exile in Chechnya and organised an advance on Tbilisi, did Tbilisi request a Russian ‘intervention’. Taken from: Darrell L Slider, “Georgia,” in Armenia, Azerbaijan, and Georgia: Country Studies (Federal Research Division) ed. Glenn E. Curtis (?: DIANE Publishing, 1996), 209.
[34] Adomeit, “Russia as a 'Great Power' in World Affairs: Images and Reality,” 46-47.
[35] Ibid., 46.
[36] Lucas, The New Cold War: How the Kremlin Menaces Both Russia and the West, 46.
[37] Generally, Russian oligarchs made millions (if not billions) during the early years of the Yeltsin administration when the official policy was to encourage privatisation. Entrepreneurs, and sometimes simply well-dressed gangsters, with questionable funding managed to purchase previously-nationalised industrial sectors such as oil refineries, oil wells, mines, smelting operations, radio and television networks, and gas fields. People such as Vladimir Gusinsky (at one stage, Russia’s wealthiest media tycoon), Boris Berezovsky (an oil magnate and media mogul who initially supported Boris Yeltsin’s political career), Mikhail Khodorkovsky (the founder of the now-defunct Yukos oil company) made fortunes but were unwise enough to openly challenge Putin’s new administration. The Kremlin arrested, investigated, and systematically targeted oligarchs that refused to acquiesce to the new administration. Khodorkovsky ended up in a Siberian prison camp, Berezovsky lives in exile in London, and Gusinsky fled to Israel. Only loyal and subservient oligarchs have remained largely unscathed by FSB investigations and tax audits. Taken from: Lucas, The New Cold War: How the Kremlin Menaces Both Russia and the West, 62-67.
[38] Ibid.
[39] Ibid., 73.
[40] Ibid., 30.
[41] Ibid.
[42] Ibid., 77.
[43] __, “Country Reports on Human Rights Practices - 2003: Russia,” Bureau of Democracy, Human Rights, and Labor, U.S. Department of State, February 25th, 2004, http://www.state.gov/g/drl/rls/hrrpt/2003/27861.htm [viewed 18/08/08].
[44] Henry E. Hale, “Russia: Consolidation or Collapse?,” Europe-Asia Studies, Vol. 54, No. 7 (Nov., 2002): 1101.
[45] David McDonald, “Domestic Conjunctures, the Russian State, and the World Outside, 1700-2006,” in Russian Foreign Policy in the 21st Century & the Shadow of the Past, ed. Robert Levgold (New York: Columbia Press, 2007), 145.
[46] Lucas, The New Cold War: How the Kremlin Menaces Both Russia and the West, 89.
[47] __, “Putin Q&A: International Agenda,” Russia Today, February 15, 2008, http://russiatoday.ru/news/news/20978 [viewed 22/03/08].
[48] Mirwaldt and Ivanov, “Russia: Struggling for dignity,” in Global Security Governance: Competing Perceptions of Security in the 21st Century, 239.
[49] Emil J. Kirchner, “Regional and Global Security: Changing Threats and Institutional Responses,” in Global Security Governance: Competing Perceptions of Security in the 21st Century, ed. Emil Joseph Kirchner and James Sperling (New York: Routledge, 2007), 18.
[50] Lucas, The New Cold War: How the Kremlin Menaces Both Russia and the West, 70.
[51] Gregory Dubinsky, “Georgia: Kiss NATO Goodbye?,” Transitions Online, August 13, 2008, http://www.tol.cz/look/TOL/article.tpl?IdLanguage=1&IdPublication=4&NrIssue=282&NrSection=4&NrArticle=19841 [viewed: 16/08/08].
[52] __, “Venezuela: Oil,” Energy Information Administration – US Department of Energy, October, 2007, http://www.eia.doe.gov/emeu/cabs/Venezuela/Oil.html [viewed 21/08/08].
[53] __, “Economy: Russia,” CIA World Fact Book, August 7, 2008, https://www.cia.gov/library/publications/the-world-factbook/geos/rs.html [viewed 20/08/08].
[54] Alvin Rabushka and Michael S. Bernstam, “The Russian Economy: Russia on Auto-Pilot,” Leland Stanford Junior University, Hoover Institute – Stanford University, June 6, 2003, http://www.hoover.org/research/russianecon/essays/5143302.html [viewed 20/08/08].
[55] __, “Caspian Sea: Oil Exploration Issues,” Country Analysis Briefs, Energy Information Administration – US Department of Energy, Jan, 2007, http://www.eia.doe.gov/emeu/cabs/Caspian/Full.html [viewed 20/08/08].
[56] Ibid.
[57] Ibid.
[58] Barry Wood, “Georgia Fighting Raises Concerns Over Oil Pipeline, Prices,” News Voice of America Online, August 11, 2008, http://www.voanews.com/english/2008-08-11-voa65.cfm [viewed 20/08/08].
[59] Mark Bentley and Eduard Gismatullin, “BP Says Unclear When BTC Pipeline Will Be Repaired (Update1),” August 15th, 2008, Bloomberg News, http://www.bloomberg.com/apps/news?pid=20601207&sid=ajR3bwpgIgkc&refer=energy# [viewed 20/08/08].
[60] __, “Caspian Sea: Oil Exploration Issues,” Energy Information Administration – US Department of Energy, Jan, 2007.
[61] Speech given by President Dmitri Medvedev (translated into English), August 13, 2008, The Kremlin, Moscow, The President of Russia – English website, http://www.kremlin.ru/eng/speeches/2008/08/13/1829_type82913_205272.shtml [viewed 20/08/08].
[62] Stephen J. Blank, “US Interests in Central Asia and the Challenges to Them,” The Strategic Studies Institute – US Army War College (March, 2007): 2. Taken from: Svante E. Cornell and Niklas L. P. Swanstrom, “The Eurasian Drug Trade: A Challenge to Regional Security,” Problems of Post-Communism, Vol. LIII, No. 4 (July-August, 2006): 24-25.
[63] Blank, “US Interests in Central Asia and the Challenges to Them,” The Strategic Studies Institute – US Army War College, 12.
[64] Sergei Blagov, “Russia Views NATO Expansion as a Strategic Threat,” Power and Interest News Report (PINR), May 5, 2004, http://www.pinr.com/report.php?ac=view_report&report_id=166&language_id=1 [viewed 20/08/08].
[65] Vladimir Socor, “The Goals Behind Moscow’s Proxy Offensive in Southern Ossetia,” Eurasian Daily Monitor, published by The Jamestown Foundation, August 8, 2008, http://jamestown.org/edm/article.php?article_id=2373298 [viewed 21/08/08].
[66] Ibid.
[67] Radio report by Anne Garrels, “Russia Feels Slighted As West Fears Its Resurgence,” National Public Radio – Morning Edition, August 19, 2008, http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=93728822&ft=1&f=1001 [listened to 20/08/08].
[68] Ibid.
[69] Ibid.
[70] David Charter, “Russia Threatens Military Response to US Missile Defence Deal,” The Times online, July 9, 2008, http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/world/europe/article4295309.ece [viewed 20/08/08].
[71] Stephen J. Blank, “Towards a New Russia Policy,” The Strategic Studies Institute – US Army War College (February, 2008): 10.
[72] __, “Russia Restores Bomber Patrols,” CNN World, August 17, 2007, http://edition.cnn.com/2007/WORLD/europe/08/17/russia.airforce.reut/index.html [viewed 21/08/08].
[73] __, “Russia May Answer Western Pressure with Bases in Cuba,” RIA Novosti – Russian News and Information Agency, August 4, 2008, http://en.rian.ru/russia/20080804/115667177.html [viewed 21/08/08].
[74] Lucas, The New Cold War: How the Kremlin Menaces Both Russia and the West, 70.
[75] Ibid.
[76] Blagov, “Russia Views NATO Expansion as a Strategic Threat”.
[77] Yu Bin, “Crouching Alliance, Hidden Angst?” YaleGlobal Online, October 10, 2007, http://yaleglobal.yale.edu/article.print?id=9793 [viewed 21/05/08].
[78] Dmitri V. Trenin, Getting Russia Right (Washington D.C., Brussels: Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, 2007), 26.
[79] Trenin, Getting Russia Right, 26.
[80] Ibid., 26-27.
[81] Ibid., 27.
[82] __, “Russia,” State of the World’s Human Rights, Amnesty International Report 2008, http://thereport.amnesty.org/eng/regions/europe-and-central-asia/russian-federation [viewed 21/08/08].
[83] Trenin, Getting Russia Right, 27.
[84] __, “The Putin Government's Responses to Increased Xenophobia,” Event Summary, January 07, 2008, 12:00 – 1:00 pm. Woodrow Wilson International Center for Scholars website, http://www.wilsoncenter.org/index.cfm?event_id=342823&fuseaction=events.event_summary [viewed 22/08/08].
[85] Lucas, The New Cold War: How the Kremlin Menaces Both Russia and the West, 103-104. Taken from: Anna Fedakina, “Young and Very Dangerous (Юный и очень опасный),” the Daily All-Russia Newspaper (Ежедневная Оъщероссийская Газета), July 17, 2007, http://www.newizv.ru/news/2007-07-17/72924/ [viewed 21/08/08].
[86] Speech given by Former President Vladimir Putin (translated into English), April 25, 2005, The Kremlin, Moscow, The President of Russia – English website, http://www.kremlin.ru/eng/speeches/2005/04/25/2031_type70029type82912_87086.shtml [viewed 17/08/08].
[87] Dimitri K. Simes, “Losing Russia: The Costs of Renewed Confrontation,” Foreign Affairs, November/December, 2007, http://www.foreignaffairs.org/20071101faessay86603/dimitri-k-simes/losing-russia.html?mode=print [viewed 17/06/08].
[88] Jan Leijonhielm, Jan T. Knoph, Robert L. Larsson, Ingmar Oldberg, Wilhelm Unge, and Carolina Vendil Pallin, “Russian Military Capability in a Ten-Year Perspective: Problems and Trends in 2005,” Summary and conclusions from a study for the Swedish Ministry of Defence, Swedish Defence Research Agency (FOI), June 2005, http://www.foi.se/upload/rapporter/foi-russian-military-capability.pdf [viewed 29/08/08], 13.
[89] Major Gregory J Celestan, “Wounded Bear: The Ongoing Russian Military Operation in Chechnya,” Foreign Military Studies Office – US Army (August, 1996), http://www.globalsecurity.org/military/library/report/1996/wounded.htm [viewed 29/08/08].
[90] Major Celestan, “Wounded Bear: The Ongoing Russian Military Operation in Chechnya.”
[91] Dmitri Trenin, “Russia’s Threat Perception and Strategic Posture,” in Russian Security Strategy Under Putin: US and Russian Perspectives, The Strategic Studies Institute – US Army War College (November, 2007): 37.
[92] Ibid.
[93] Ibid.
[94] Simes, “Losing Russia: The Costs of Renewed Confrontation,” 2007.
[95] Ibid.
[96] Ibid.
[97] Socor, “The Goals Behind Moscow’s Proxy Offensive in Southern Ossetia,” Eurasian Daily Monitor, August 8, 2008.
[98] President George W. Bush, “State of the Union Address by the President,” January 31, 2006, The White House – President George W. Bush website, http://www.whitehouse.gov/stateoftheunion/2006/ [viewed 21/08/08].
[99] David Satter, “Testimony before Congress,” Testimony of David Satter, House Committee on Foreign Relations, May 17, 2007, http://foreignaffairs.house.gov/110/sat051707.htm [viewed 11/07/08].
[100] Martha Brill Olcott, “Truth and Perception,” Russia and Eurasia Program, Carnegie Endowment for International Peace (August, 2008): 3.
[101] Farangis Najibullah, “SCO Fails to Back Russia over Georgia,” Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty, 28 August 2008, http://www.globalsecurity.org/military/library/news/2008/08/mil-080828-rferl03.htm [viewed 29/08/08].
[102] Simes, “Losing Russia: The Costs of Renewed Confrontation,” Foreign Affairs, November/December, 2007.
[103] Mark Leonard, What Does China Really Think? (London: Fourth Estate, 2008), 101.

An African Success Story: Civil Society and the ‘Mozambican Miracle’

2008-12-24T22:43:00.000-08:00

-Written by AJ Reibel, MIR program, New Zealand

Introduction
Mozambique, described by Former President Bill Clinton in 2000 as the “world’s fastest growing economy,” (Smith, 2000) has come a long way since the end of its fifteen-year civil war, during which it earned the reputation as the country with the second-highest infant mortality rate in the world (United Nations, 1995). What is most striking about Mozambique’s post-conflict recovery is that the cessation of hostilities and a supportive international community have caused civil society (CS) to flourish.

The study of CS in the global North is nothing new, yet, civil society organisations and alliances have received much less attention in Africa. Of the African countries whose Civil Society Organisations (CSOs) have strengthened democratic processes, demanded economic reform, and advocated for increased freedoms, Lusophone Africa has been largely overlooked. Branwen Gruffydd Jones, a lecturer in Political Economy at the University of London, states that mainstream IR academic thought has overlooked both Africa and its endemic distributive inequality (Jones, 2005).

This paper examines the label of ‘miracle’ applied to Mozambique’s post-conflict development. Specifically, this paper looks at the role that Mozambique’s CS has played in the country’s recovery after its 15-year civil war and reconsiders both the inherent bias against non-voluntary associational institutions in the CS discourse and the use of the label ‘miracle’ to describe economic and societal development in the developing world.

In order to appraise civil society’s role in the country’s rehabilitation and development I will first briefly summarise Mozambique’s historical experience. Understanding Mozambique’s historical context explains its tumultuous post-colonial and civil war experiences.

Secondly, I will tie Mozambique’s historical experience to the long-term effects of its recent civil war. This paper will demonstrate that CSOs have been fundamental to restoring societal confidence and normalcy to a country in which 5 million people were displaced and more than 1 million killed over the course of a 15 year conflict (Thompson, 1999).

Besides examining the long-term effects of Mozambique’s civil war, I will define civil society in a Mozambican context by first introducing Bhikhu Parekh and Chris Hann’s criticisms of the ‘Western’ focus of CS. Furthermore, I will explain Mozambique’s CS arena in terms of Michel Foucault’s attack on civil society and Antonio Grasmci’s observation that a government may sustain itself by co-opting civil society in order to provide itself greater legitimacy amongst its populace (Harbeson, 1994). Although Peter Ekeh’s assertion that many African societies have two parallel public spheres that interact with their singular private sphere is useful when analysing civil society in varying African states, his model does not strictly apply to the Mozambican context. Mozambique’s electoral system, though criticised by CSOs and opposition political parties alike, invalidates the existence of Ekeh’s bifurcated public spheres.

Thirdly, I will examine the role of Mozambican tradition and spiritual beliefs in the reconciliation and peace process. Several subsidiary questions will highlight the importance of a unique Mozambican psyche and regenerative culture in the country’s post-conflict process.

Fourthly, I will explore the importance of associational society and CSOs in Mozambique’s reconstruction and rehabilitation process. Despite the heavy UN presence, chiefly organised through ONUMOZ, strategic planners within the Mozambican government and motivated Mozambicans in the public sphere worked to strengthen the nation’s communal fabric, expand democracy-building efforts, and better distribute opportunities and services across the country.

Multilateral and international development organisations, such as the UNDP, the WFP, and the UNHCR, worked to rebuild roads, feed the malnourished, and re-settle internally displaced persons (IDPs), yet they were not the only organisations rebuilding the devastated country. Others have also worked tirelessly to restore hope in Mozambique. They include for-profit international development consulting firms, such as RONCO; bilateral international development donors, such as USAID and DFID; Mozambican religious organisations, including the Catholic Church and the Mozambique Christian Council of Churches (CCM); transnational civil society partnerships; small niche non-profit organisations – a good example is Bart Weetjens’s HeroRat de-mining and tuberculosis detection company; and local grassroots Mozambican organisations, such as Feliciano dos Santos’s band Massukos and his UK-partnered Estamos Organização Comunitária.

This paper will examine the assumptions that Mozambique’s post-conflict economic and societal recovery has been a short-term marvel and that in the long-run it may fail to break with a cycle of economic dependency and ongoing indebtedness. Finally, I posit that the co-option and involvement of certain CSOs in Mozambique’s political process has set Mozambique on a path of established peace and political transparency.

The Mozambican Civil War and its Effects
Background
Portugal’s settlement and colonisation of East Africa followed Vasco da Gama’s landing on the shores of Mozambique in 1498 (Duffy, 1962). Intermittent Portuguese trade and habitation would, at times, stretch from present-day Beira to Mombasa. Generally, however, Portuguese inroads along the present-day Kenyan and Tanzanian coastlines were met with resistance from the mixed local populations whose trade with Arabian, Indian, and Persian merchants was threatened by the Portuguese presence.

A prazero system – based on the economic dominance achieved by Portuguese given large land-grants (prazos) by the Crown – served to extract wealth from the native inhabitants through exploitative means. Often, the prazeros ignored their pledge to the Crown to develop their lands, and instead amassed wealth by exacting taxes from petty chiefs on their lands, trading in ivory, and selling natives into slavery (Duffy, 1962). The result preserved an underdeveloped condition in which wealth was generated through exploitative means.

The prazero system entrenched a habit of developmental neglect that continued throughout Mozambique’s colonial experience. Not only did the system impede the introduction of productive rural agricultural techniques, but it also hampered the development of transport and communication across the country. The location of the colony’s capital, Lourenço Marques, at the territory’s southernmost extremity did not improve the dire state of under-development (Newitt, 2002).

In the outlying and less-populated areas of the colony, the prazero system entrenched exploitative labour practices. Initially, exploitation was evident in the sale of slaves to American, Brazilian, French, and Spanish slave-traders (Duffy, 1962). Mozambican labour continued to be traded as a commodity throughout 20th century Portuguese colonial administration. Although no longer based on coercion and enslavement, it developed into a “…pattern of labour migration” that saw rural Mozambican men recruited to work in Witswatersrand Rand mines (near present-day Johannesburg) (Newitt, 2002).

Although Portugal generally failed to develop communications and transportation infrastructure, it did invest in various infrastructural schemes. This selective investment, coupled with the colony’s commoditisation of labour, meant that “…Mozambique had a relatively diversified economy with an export potential to earn foreign exchange [and]… a well-developed system of hydroelectric power” (Newitt, 2002, p. 188). The colony’s burgeoning economic capacity and well-endowed hydroelectric infrastructure looked set to ensure the smooth transition from an impoverished colony to a productive nascent state. Unfortunately, a protracted conflict suspended the country’s economic development.

Although African nationalism began to reify in Portugal’s African colonies in the 1940s and 50s, it was not until early 1960 that nationalist sentiment evolved into conflict (Chicolte, 1967). The resistance began in Angola in 1961 as a challenge to Lisbon’s “…claim of racial harmony based on miscegenation and civilizing policy…” (Chicolte, 1967, p. 43). During the 1960’s Portugal faced mounting resistance to its colonial rule.

Initially, CSOs were established in Portugal to provide Mozambicans a channel to discuss Lisbon’s administration of the colony. Although some CSOs were established with the co-optive goal of assimilating black and mulato Mozambicans (such as the Associação Africana and the Centro Associativo dos Negros de Moçambique), most CSOs established to voice Mozambican interests were controlled by Mozambicans born of European parents (Chicolte, 1967). As these organisations began to criticise Mozambique’s un-representative colonial administration and to urge reforms, the Mozambican colonial administration reacted by further diminishing democratic representation in the colony (Chicolte, 1967).

A shift towards un-representative administration and a crack-down on ‘subversive’ intellectuals in Lisbon led to the exodus of nationalist African intellectuals to Paris and to a strengthening of African nationalist ideology. Ronald Chicolte stated that, while it was unclear what the result of such a strengthening of ideology would be, “…it [was] safe to assume… that circumstantial events, influenced greatly by Portuguese intransigent policies, awakened the privileged African intelligentsia to challenge the Portuguese hegemony in Africa” (1967, p. 52).

In 1962 Mozambican intellectuals in Europe, Tanzania, Zambia, and Malawi were invited by Julius Nyerere to a conference in Dar es Salaam to form the Frente de Libertação de Moçambique (FRELIMO), which would become the main Mozambican liberation movement (Newitt, 2002).

Although most of the FRELIMO leadership cadre hailed from the more prosperous southern part of the country and was distrusted in the Northern provinces, the initial heavy-handed Portuguese response to FRELIMO operations led to a growth of peasant support. In fact, middle-class peasants, “…whose ranks were both increased and frustrated by the Portuguese, backed [FRELIMO] on the assumption that an independent Mozambican state would eliminate the constraints that the colonial administration had erected” (Bowen, 2000, p. 6). The insurgency continued into the mid 1970’s and considerably sapped Portuguese military morale as it drew the army into a seemingly unwinnable war.

Malyn Newitt suggests that when Portugal suddenly cast off its colonies in 1974, FRELIMO effectively gained power without popular support, thereby guaranteeing an outbreak of war in the nascent state. Newitt states that FRELIMO was viewed as an illegitimate government by large portions of the population, especially in the Northern provinces, since most of its leadership had been educated abroad and was native to developed areas closer to Maputo (2002).

Two significant events occurred in 1977, two years after Mozambican independence. FRELIMO announced that it would pursue a strategy based on Marxist-Leninist organisational philosophy (Newitt, 2002) – which immediately made it an enemy of the Apartheid South African regime, Southern Rhodesia, and of the United States of America. It also effectively undermined the limited CS arena that had existed in Mozambique during its late colonial period and early years of independence. FRELIMO absorbed certain sectors of CS by creating “…youth, women’s, and workers’ organisations” – including the Organisação de Juventude Moçambicana (OJM) and the Organisação de Mulheres Moçambicanas (OMM) (Newitt, 2002, p.198).

As FRELIMO tightened its grip on Mozambican society and crushed dissent within its armed forces, dissatisfaction began to spread. After a coup attempt in 1976, FRELIMO sent dissident military commanders to ‘re-education camps’ (Serapiao, 2004). Two such commanders that managed to escape a re-education camp fled to Southern Rhodesia where they “…sought military support to fight the FRELIMO government.” Southern Rhodesia, only too happy to destabilise its Marxist neighbour which provided material and ideological support to its own home-grown freedom movement (Robert Mugabe’s ZANLA), helped establish the Resistência Nacional Moçambicana (RENAMO) – headed by Afonso Dhlakama (Serapiao, 2004, p. 2-3).

FRELIMO has been criticised for implementing increasingly repressive tactics as RENAMO escalated the conflict. FRELIMO’s tactics of forced food cultivation, limiting the free movement of peasants, and its strategy of limiting funding of basic social services caused widespread urban and rural discontent (Bowen, 2000).

As the war dragged on and the populace found itself increasingly targeted, splinter armed factions emerged, threatening to drag a country teetering on the brink of collapse into a state of irreconcilable anarchy and depredation. The result was that conditions in the country worsened and civil society groups “…within and without Mozambique began to mobilise to bring about peace” (Moran and Pitcher, 2004, p. 511). Mozambique’s Catholic Church played an integral role in brokering a formal agreement between FRELIMO and RENAMO that culminated in the signing of the 1992 Rome General Peace Accords, and ultimately brought the country’s brutal civil war to an end (Moran and Pitcher, 2004).

Effects
The effects of the country’s 15-year civil war were devastating. When peace was finally achieved it became apparent that the country’s economic capability had been largely demolished and rural economic growth had been brought to a virtual stand-still (Thompson, 1999). From a total population of 16 million, 5 million people were displaced and approximately 1 million had been killed (Thompson, 1999). With the laying of over 2 million mines, large swaths of land were made inaccessible to farmers. The result of the widespread dissemination of landmines was 10,000 victims and perhaps hundreds of thousands more to food shortages created by the elimination of arable land from the state’s agricultural capacity (Thompson, 1999).

At the end of hostilities numerous international aid agencies, UN bodies, and NGOs were already operating in Maputo and in some of the other major urban centres – including Beira, Nampula, Tete, Quelimane, Inhambane, and Pemba. This allowed for the rapid marshalling and distribution of relief aid and the implementation of post-conflict reconstruction projects. The United Nations launched a peacekeeping and post-conflict rehabilitation mission, officially named the United Nations Operation in Mozambique (ONUMOZ), to “…guide the country from armed conflict to democratic and peaceful elections” (“The United Nations and Mozambique”, 1995, p. 105). ONUMOZ’s mandate was approved in December of 1992 and the mission started to coalesce around the following core requirements: a) the need to remain impartial in order to fully support the peace process, b) the need to encourage the international community to live up to its responsibility to support the Mozambican recovery process, and c) the need to secure the country’s major transportation corridors in order to ensure that humanitarian efforts and inter-state trade could contribute to the stabilisation of the country (“The United Nations and Mozambique”, 1995).

In addition to the influx of aid organisations, international development contracting firms, and operations run by organisations, such as the World Bank, CSOs multiplied. Goodwill and a domestic need to rebuild, coupled with a massive injection of donor funding, allowed home-grown CSOs to flourish. Several projects were established to provide shelter, training, jobs, and food to the large number of orphaned and homeless children that roamed the streets of Maputo. The successful Meninos de Mocambique is an example one such organisation that runs a clinic for malnourished and ailing street children. The organisation receives funding from Street Child Africa, a UK-based charity (“Mozambique”, Street Child Africa).

Implications
The country’s infrastructure was left in ruins and its morale severely diminished, but positively, the country’s trauma allowed for a peaceful democratisation and development process. So, what are the implications of the civil war on Mozambican civil society? To answer this question, I start by disagreeing with Peter Ekeh’s assertion that post-colonial Africa has two parallel public arenas with “different types of moral linkages to the private realm” which, in-turn explain how nepotism, tribalism, and ideological ties exist within a public sphere, while state-mechanisms continue to exist in a realm governed by a seemingly non-partisan and independent civil structure (Azaraya, 1994). Although Ekeh’s observations are descriptive of many African states, they do not accurately describe the country’s state of civil society due to Mozambique’s particular experiences. That the FRELIMO government is scrutinised by the RENAMO opposition party has meant the Mozambican government has had to regularly agree to RENAMO and civil society demands for greater transparency.

Governmental compromises have included allowing CSOs to monitor election centres via computer video links, unfettered access to polling stations, and in vote counting with the National Elections Commission (CNE) (Nvunga, 2006). Such compromises ensure that nepotism, tribalism, and shared identities do not interfere in the public realm as they do in Angola, Nigeria, or Zimbabwe. Perhaps a further challenge to Ekeh’s general observation is the fact that the cost of political cronyism and manipulation may be much higher for Mozambique’s fledgling democracy than in Angola, Nigeria, and Zimbawe, which suffer from a lack of transparency, corrupt and nepotistic government, and tyrannical dictatorship, respectively. In 2005, Transparency International ranked Mozambique 97th out of 158 countries in its perceived level of corruption (Annual Report Transparency International, 2005). Maputo’s ranking exceeded that of Luanda, Nairobi, and Harare – 151, 152, and 107, respectively (Annual Report Transparency International, 2005). According to the UN Supervision and Control Commission Chairman, Colonel Segala, RENAMO and FRELIMO “…soldiers [have] admitted to hiding weapons…” as insurance policies against possible breaches of good faith and democratisation (Vines, 1998, p. 193).

CS in the Mozambican Context
The dominant definition of CS is based on a Western approach that maintains civil society is found in an arena of ‘voluntary association’ independent of the economy, the state, and the domestic sphere (family life). Michael Waltzer, following in the tradition of Western CS scholars, talks of a realm of un-coerced human associations that include family, unions, universities, the press, churches, professional groups, NGOs, and social movements (Parekh, 2005, p. 19).

Baron Bhikhu Parekh, a Centennial Professor at the London School of Economics and current Labour MP sitting in the House of Lords, insists that though the accepted definition of CS suffices when applied to specific case studies, it is “…culturally and historically specific and has… obvious limitations” (Parekh, 2005, p. 23). Lord Parekh further explains that since the current Western definition, promoted by governments and NGOs alike, insists that coercion and cooption – in the form of state, international, or commercial influence – results in the loss of legitimacy of a CS arena, this definition is of limited usefulness when defining CS in non-Western countries (Parekh, 2005).

In order to lay the framework for a Mozambican definition of CS, it is thus necessary to see the existence of an altogether non-coercive CS. This allows for an appreciation of “associations based on traditional allegiances, ties of blood, inherited loyalties or the ‘accident’ of birth – such as castes, clans, tribes, and ethnic and religious communities” (Parekh, 2005, p. 21). CS in different regions and countries should not be painted with the same broad strokes – nor should coercion or cooption be seen as intrinsically undesirable. In much of the developing world, society is deeply divided along tribal, caste, and religious lines. This is often the result of the external process of colonialism that drew borders along neat imaginary longitudinal and latitudinal lines. What is similar to the Western model is the fact that CS in Mozambique has fostered social cohesion.

Chris Hann expands on Lord Parekh’s preliminary description of non-Western CS by further explaining that the exportation of CS (through the promotion of democracy or externally-funded and directed CS-strengthening projects) results in a neo-imperialist imposition of a liberal notion of CS and may actually ‘abort’ local processes of change and CS development (Hann, 2005, p.46). He further explains that therein lies the core of the anthropologic critique of CS exportation and promotion.

Leonardo Avritzer’s discussion of the necessary role that CS has played in peripheral non-Western war-afflicted societies is especially useful when defining CS in Mozambique. Although Avritzer uses Perú as an example of a case where CS has created self-help structures in order to fill the void and “produce public goods” that are normally provided by the state in Western ‘core’ countries (Avritzer, 2005, p. 56). According to Avritzer, Perú experienced economic conditions that hampered the government’s ability to collect taxes while a prolonged civil war resulted in the death of over half a million Peruvians (Avritzer, 2005). As a result, by 1994 CS groups had started to offer services such as “soup kitchens, milk providing groups, and mothers’ clubs” (Avritzer, 2005, p. 56).

Similarly, Mozambique’s civil war and the ensuing breakdown of the government’s provision of public goods resulted in the formation of a uniquely Mozambican CS, which, in turn, resulted in the development of self-help structures for its populace.

Traditional Culture and Practices
Sergio Viera de Mello, the UN Deputy High Commissioner for Refugees during the ONUMOZ-led peacekeeping mission, often praised Mozambique for its unique culture – its “culture of peace” (Thompson, 1999). Although de Mello’s statements are difficult to support empirically, they are significant in explaining the Mozambican Miracle.

De Mello’s observations encompassed the success achieved by a variety of communal and culturally-specific re-integration and reconciliation approaches. These approaches included the reunification of child soldiers with their families, encouraging families to hold purification ceremonies aimed at separating a child’s experiences and actions during the war from his/her role in the family (especially successful for the re-integration of girls forced into sexual slavery), and the reinforcement of social interaction as a means of reincorporating traumatised children into the communal arena.

During the 1980’s, Mozambican relief organisations realised that the Western approach to rehabilitating the victims of the war that treated them as infirm and in need of a cure, did not seem to be effective in the Mozambican context. Instead, the Mozambican government devised a policy that a) focused on extending “…material assistance to vulnerable families so they could sustain their children” and, b) reuniting separated children with their families as expediently and inclusively as possible (Thompson, 1999, p. 199). To achieve the latter strategy, curandeiros (traditional healers) stressed the concept of family strength over the Western notion of trauma as pathology (Thompson, 1999). In this way, curandeiros performed cleansing ceremonies in which they purified the houses and, at times, the returning children as a way of divorcing the inflicted trauma from the present child-family relations.

In addition to the role of curandeiros, programs aimed at healing wounds at the grassroots level have proven widely successful. Examples of such programs included “…the performance of plays and dances that condemned the war, peace marches, conciliatory soccer matches between the opposing sides, and special ceremonies to heal and reintegrate victims of the war into their communities” (Moran and Pitcher, 2004, p. 511). Feliciano dos Santos’s Estamos Organizacao Comunitaria serves as an example of one such NGO that focuses on educating communities about social issues, such as communicable diseases, the need to improve sanitary health, and reconciliation through music. As dos Santos and his band Massukos tour through rural villages, they pause to give demonstrations of latrine construction and play their latest songs that explain how HIV-AIDS is spread (Pryor, 2008).

In addition to reconciliation and re-integration mechanisms and grassroots educational programmes, spiritual practices and traditions have played an important role in kick-starting the Mozambican Miracle. In Zambézia province Manuel Antonio began a movement that came to be known as the Naparama (‘irresistible force’), which managed to secure the release of hostages held by RENAMO and establish ‘neutral zones’ while the war raged on (“Profiles”, Conciliation Resources online). The movement tapped into the strong animist traditions in the Mozambican countryside. Its members “…relied on magic potions and other forms of ‘spiritual protection’ to render themselves ‘invincible’…” in the face of RENAMO forces – which would often voluntarily accede to Naparama demands (“Profiles”, Conciliation Resources online, para. 21).

To borrow from the Neo-Gramscian school, CSOs that tapped into Mozambican societal traditions and social mechanisms managed to restore an important “social glue” that has, very likely, served to further support the country’s reconciliation and development. Neo-Gramscians stress that “social glue”, a cohesive element between divergent interests, can be found in the “…shared negative experience of the effects of global capitalism” (Shilliam, 2008, ch. 9). Although, CSOs in the Mozambican context have not been brought together by a shared dislike for capitalism, a shared negative experience has allowed Mozambican CSOs and portions of the public sector to cooperatively heal the country’s traumas. Moreover, the trauma experienced by 15 years of brutal civil war has produced the “social glue” that has helped Mozambicans avoid a return to conflict even in the face of numerous domestic challenges.

Economic Dependence and Surrogacy & CS Co-option and Stability
Samir Amin pointed out that by integrating itself into the international economic system, at the behest of its foreign donor states, Mozambique may actually be undermining its future independence and potential development (Schraeder, 2004). By accepting foreign loans, Maputo may be weakening its sovereignty (at worst) or bargaining power (at best). Furthermore, it is likely that if its economy fails to achieve the level of growth predicted by its economists, Maputo will find itself caught in a cycle of debt. Periodic debt relief has alleviated some of these concerns.

Furthermore, Stephen Thomas has argued that a growing dependence on steady flows of foreign development aid meant for CSOs has created a “…degree of surrogacy and substitution of the government’s role” (Thomas, 1992, p. 43). This surrogacy threatens to undermine the function of the state. If residents of Sofala Province do not receive services from either the central government in Maputo or the regional government, and instead receive assistance from the UNDP and WFP, they have little incentive to pay taxes or vote in national elections. Furthermore, such surrogacy may alienate the central government from its citizens and encourage disassociation and corruption in Maputo.

In spite of the valid criticisms voiced by detractors of Neo-Liberalism – who point to an economy increasingly dependent on foreign trade, loans, and exposed to foreign pressures and domestic co-option – the current system may actually serve to ensure that democracy remains a driving force in the Mozambican political arena.

Michel Foucault’s attack on civil society is useful for an understanding of CSO involvement in Mozambican politics. CS is typically understood to inhabit an arena separate from government involvement but still linking the private sphere to the public one. Foucault criticised the idea of civil society “…as a bridge between the public and private sectors,” as he felt that CSOs could just as easily determine the “…purposes and rules of the political game” (Harbeson, 1994, p. 21). Although not all sectors of Mozambican civil society fit within Foucault’s observations, the necessary involvement of CSOs in the country’s CNE does call into question the independence of those CSOs – especially when the members of civil society organisations (such as Arão Litsure from Protestant CCM) are appointed to head the CNE.

Gramsci’s perception that civil society “…cooption seems to sustain [a] government” supports Foucault’s point that cooption may preclude the existence of a truly independent CS (Harbeson, 1994, p. 19). Although Mozambican civil society has not been entirely co-opted by the government, the fact that CSOs are expected to play an integral role in the electoral process does suggest that Mozambique’s CS arena is best described by the Gramscian acknowledgement of the utility of CS cooption. Despite Foucault’s worries about civil society impartiality, civil society oversight continues to reduce the chances of a violent relapse. Although certain CSOs have renounced a degree of objectivity and independence by participating in the CNE deliberations, many others (including 48 local NGOs in Maputo and Nampula alone, identified by UNESCO in a 2002 report), such as the Associação Rural de Alívio e Combate a Pobreza (ARCAP), remain firmly outside of the government’s arena and work to alleviate the effects of economic stagnation and internecine conflict (Bellucci, 2002).

What of the criticisms of the ‘Mozambican Miracle’?
Robert Calderisi, in his book entitled The Trouble with Africa: Why Foreign Aid Isn’t Working, argues that Mozambique is one of the few African states that is deserving of continued foreign aid as it has a developing political system, low levels of corruption, and a “self-directed” foreign aid policy (Calderisi, 2006). Calderisi’s positive portrayal of Mozambique is perhaps overly optimistic. In his article entitled “Africa: Living on the Fringe”, Samir Amin describes Third World ‘miracles’ – which are actually cases of growth without true development – as misleading monikers (Amin, 2002).

Despite Calderisi’s praise, the 2007/2008 UNDP Human Development Report and its accompanying Human Development Indicators reveal that fifteen years after the end of the civil war, Mozambique still languishes amongst the group of countries with the ‘Lowest Human Development’ in the world (UNDP, 2008). At the conclusion of the civil war, when it was considered one of the poorest states in the world, Mozambique also sat firmly amongst the poorest performing states within the ‘Low Human Development’ bracket. By 1992, Mozambique ranked 146th out of 160 countries (UNDP, 1992) – it now sits at 172nd out of 177 countries (UNDP, 2008).

It is certain that Mozambique is still in the throes of its post-conflict reconstruction and development phase. What is also clear is that it has an ample civil society arena with widely varying CSOs. Despite the fact that some of the organisations are less independent of the government than others, the country’s CSOs have played a significant role in Mozambique’s transition to independence, peace in 1992, and along its path to post-conflict recovery.

As good governance continues to be an issue, it remains to be seen if the arena for civil society will continue to be amplified and encouraged (de Renzio and Hanlon, 2007). As the Mozambican economy comes under growing foreign pressure and the political arena continues to grow, the question is whether FRELIMO will tolerate increasing civil society scrutiny and a gradual loss of sovereign authority, or if it will act to undermine civil society in order to maintain its grip on power. The effect of such a violation of the civil arena would undoubtedly lead to a renewal of hostilities.

A future study may be needed to shed light on RENAMO’s role in the guaranteeing of the civil arena. The question is, as RENAMO remains a powerful political force, will FRELIMO hesitate to restrain the country’s CSOs and compress the civil societal arena? If FRELIMO’s support diminishes, will it, like RENAMO, rely on the country’s civil society groups to counter-balance RENAMO’s political power? Until these questions are answered, a politically-enfranchised – and consequently co-opted – civil society forms the anchor of the Mozambican Miracle.

___________

Sources

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Next Steps in the Indo-Pakistani Crisis

2008-12-20T00:53:00.000-08:00

-By George Friedman PhD, founder of STRATFOR

December 8, 2008 | 1923 GMT

Militant Attacks In Mumbai and Their Consequences

In an interview published this Sunday in The New York Times, we laid out a potential scenario for the current Indo-Pakistani crisis. We began with an Indian strike on Pakistan, precipitating a withdrawal of Pakistani troops from the Afghan border, resulting in intensified Taliban activity along the border and a deterioration in the U.S. position in Afghanistan, all culminating in an emboldened Iran. The scenario is not unlikely, assuming India chooses to strike.

Our argument that India is likely to strike focused, among other points, on the weakness of the current Indian government and how it is likely to fall under pressure from the opposition and the public if it does not act decisively. An unnamed Turkish diplomat involved in trying to mediate the dispute has argued that saving a government is not a good reason to go to war. That is a good argument, except that in this case, not saving the government is unlikely to prevent a war, either.

If India’s Congress party government were to fall, its replacement would be even more likely to strike at Pakistan. The Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), Congress’ Hindu nationalist rival, has long charged that Congress is insufficiently aggressive in combating terrorism. The BJP will argue that the Mumbai attack in part resulted from this failing. Therefore, if the Congress government does not strike, and is subsequently forced out or loses India’s upcoming elections, the new government is even more likely to strike.

It is therefore difficult to see a path that avoids Indian retaliation, and thus the emergence of at least a variation on the scenario we laid out. But the problem is not simply political: India must also do something to prevent more Mumbais. This is an issue of Indian national security, and the pressure on India’s government to do something comes from several directions.

Three Indian Views of Pakistan

The question is what an Indian strike against Pakistan, beyond placating domestic public opinion, would achieve. There are three views on this in India.

The first view holds that Pakistani officials aid and abet terrorism — in particular the Pakistani Inter-Service Intelligence (ISI), which serves as Pakistan’s main intelligence service. In this view, the terrorist attacks are the work of Pakistani government officials — perhaps not all of the government, but enough officials of sufficient power that the rest of the government cannot block them, and therefore the entire Pakistani government can be held accountable.

The second view holds that terrorist attacks are being carried out by Kashmiri groups that have long been fostered by the ISI but have grown increasingly autonomous since 2002 — and that the Pakistani government has deliberately failed to suppress anti-Indian operations by these groups. In this view, the ISI and related groups are either aware of these activities or willfully ignorant of them, even if ISI is not in direct control. Under this thinking, the ISI and the Pakistanis are responsible by omission, if not by commission.

The third view holds that the Pakistani government is so fragmented and weak that it has essentially lost control of Pakistan to the extent that it cannot suppress these anti-Indian groups. This view says that the army has lost control of the situation to the point where many from within the military-intelligence establishment are running rogue operations, and groups in various parts of the country simply do what they want. If this argument is pushed to its logical conclusion, Pakistan should be regarded as a state on the verge of failure, and an attack by India might precipitate further weakening, freeing radical Islamist groups from what little control there is.

The first two analyses are essentially the same. They posit that Pakistan could stop attacks on India, but chooses not to. The third is the tricky one. It rests on the premise that the Pakistani government (and in this we include the Pakistani army) is placing some restraint on the attackers. Thus, the government’s collapse would make enough difference that India should restrain itself, especially as any Indian attack would so destabilize Pakistan that it would unleash our scenario and worse. In this view, Pakistan’s civilian government has only as much power in these matters as the army is willing to allow.

The argument against attacking Pakistan therefore rests on a very thin layer of analysis. It requires the belief that Pakistan is not responsible for the attacks, that it is nonetheless restraining radical Islamists to some degree, and that an Indian attack would cause even these modest restraints to disappear. Further, it assumes that these restraints, while modest, are substantial enough to make a difference.

There is a debate in India, and in Washington, as to whether this is the case. This is why New Delhi has demanded that Pakistan turn over 20 individuals wanted by India in connection with attacks. The list doesn’t merely include Islamists, but also Lt. Gen. Hamid Gul, the former head of the ISI who has long been suspected of close ties with Islamists. (The United States apparently added Gul to the list.) Turning those individuals over would be enormously difficult politically for Pakistan. It would create a direct confrontation between Pakistan’s government and the Pakistani Islamist movement, likely sparking violence in Pakistan. Indeed, turning any Pakistani over to India, regardless of ideology, would create a massive crisis in Pakistan.

The Indian government chose to make this demand precisely because complying with it is enormously difficult for Pakistan. New Delhi is not so much demanding the 20 individuals, but rather that Pakistan take steps that will create conflict in Pakistan. If the Pakistani government is in control of the country, it should be able to weather the storm. If it can’t weather the storm, then the government is not in control of Pakistan. And if it could weather the storm but chooses not to incur the costs, then India can reasonably claim that Pakistan is prepared to export terrorism rather than endure it at home. In either event, the demand reveals things about the Pakistani reality.

The View from Islamabad

Pakistan’s evaluation, of course, is different. Islamabad does not regard itself as failed because it cannot control all radical Islamists or the Taliban. The official explanation is that the Pakistanis are doing the best they can. From the Pakistani point of view, while the Islamists ultimately might represent a threat, the threat to Pakistan and its government that would arise from a direct assault on the Islamists is a great danger not only to Pakistan, but also to the region. It is thus better for all to let the matter rest. The Islamist issue aside, Pakistan sees itself as continuing to govern the country effectively, albeit with substantial social and economic problems (as one might expect). The costs of confronting the Islamists, relative to the benefits, are therefore high.

The Pakistanis see themselves as having several effective counters against an Indian attack. The most important of these is the United States. The very first thing Islamabad said after the Mumbai attack was that a buildup of Indian forces along the Pakistani border would force Pakistan to withdraw 100,000 troops from its Afghan border. Events over the weekend, such as the attack on a NATO convoy, showed the vulnerability of NATO’s supply line across Pakistan to Afghanistan.

The Americans are fighting a difficult holding action against the Taliban in Afghanistan. The United States needs the militant base camps in Pakistan and the militants’ lines of supply cut off, but the Americans lack the force to do this themselves. A withdrawal of Pakistani forces from the Afghan border would pose a direct threat to American forces. Therefore, the Pakistanis expect Washington to intervene on their behalf to prevent an Indian attack. They do not believe a major Indian troop buildup will take place, and if it does, the Pakistanis do not think it will lead to substantial conflict.

There has been some talk of an Indian naval blockade against Pakistan, blocking the approaches to Pakistan’s main port of Karachi. This is an attractive strategy for India, as it plays to New Delhi’s relative naval strength. Again, the Pakistanis do not believe the Indians will do this, given that it would cut off the flow of supplies to American troops in Afghanistan. (Karachi is the main port serving U.S. forces in Afghanistan.) The line of supply in Afghanistan runs through Pakistan, and the Americans, the Pakistanis calculate, do not want anything to threaten that.

From the Pakistani point of view, the only potential military action India could take that would not meet U.S. opposition would be airstrikes. There has been talk that the Indians might launch airstrikes against Islamist training camps and bases in Pakistani-administered Kashmir. In Pakistan’s view, this is not a serious problem. Mounting airstrikes against training camps is harder than it might seem. The only way to achieve anything in such a facility is with area destruction weapons — for instance, using B-52s to drop ordnance over very large areas. The targets are not amenable to strike aircraft, because the payload of such aircraft is too small. It would be tough for the Indians, who don’t have strategic bombers, to hit very much. Numerous camps exist, and the Islamists can afford to lose some. As an attack, it would be more symbolic than effective.

Moreover, if the Indians did kill large numbers of radical Islamists, this would hardly pose a problem to the Pakistani government. It might even solve some of Islamabad’s problems, depending on which analysis you accept. Airstrikes would generate massive support among Pakistanis for their government so long as Islamabad remained defiant of India. Pakistan thus might even welcome Indian airstrikes against Islamist training camps.

Islamabad also views the crisis with India with an eye to the Pakistani nuclear arsenal. Any attack by India that might destabilize the Pakistani government opens at least the possibility of a Pakistani nuclear strike or, in the event of state disintegration, of Pakistani nuclear weapons falling into the hands of factional elements. If India presses too hard, New Delhi faces the unknown of Pakistan’s nuclear arsenal — unless, of course, the Indians are preparing a pre-emptive nuclear attack on Pakistan, something the Pakistanis find unlikely.

All of this, of course, depends upon two unknowns. First, what is the current status of Pakistan’s nuclear arsenal? Is it sufficiently reliable for Pakistan to count on? Second, to what extent do the Americans monitor Pakistan’s nuclear capabilities? Ever since the crisis of 2002, when American fears that Pakistani nuclear weapons could fall into al Qaeda’s hands were high, we have assumed that American calm about Pakistan’s nuclear facilities was based on Washington’s having achieved a level of transparency on their status. This might limit Pakistan’s freedom of action with regard to — and hence ability to rely on — its nuclear arsenal.

Notably, much of Pakistan’s analysis of the situation rests on a core assumption — namely, that the United States will choose to limit Indian options, and just as important, that the Indians would listen to Washington. India does not have the same relationship or dependence on the United States as, for example, Israel does. India historically was allied with the Soviet Union; New Delhi moved into a strategic relationship with the United States only in recent years. There is a commonality of interest between India and the United States, but not a dependency. India would not necessarily be blocked from action simply because the Americans didn’t want it to act.

As for the Americans, Pakistan’s assumption that the United States would want to limit India is unclear. Islamabad’s threat to shift 100,000 troops from the Afghan border will not easily be carried out. Pakistan’s logistical capabilities are limited. Moreover, the American objection to Pakistan’s position is that the vast majority of these troops are not engaged in controlling the border anyway, but are actually carefully staying out of the battle. Given that the Americans feel that the Pakistanis are ineffective in controlling the Afghan-Pakistani border, the shift from virtually to utterly ineffective might not constitute a serious deterioration from the United States’ point of view. Indeed, it might open the door for more aggressive operations on — and over — the Afghan-Pakistani border by American forces, perhaps by troops rapidly transferred from Iraq.

The situation of the port of Karachi is more serious, both in the ground and naval scenarios. The United States needs Karachi; it is not in a position to seize the port and the road system out of Karachi. That is a new war the United States can’t fight. At the same time, the United States has been shifting some of its logistical dependency from Pakistan to Central Asia. But this requires a degree of Russian support, which would cost Washington dearly and take time to activate. In short, India’s closing the port of Karachi by blockade, or Pakistan’s doing so as retaliation for Indian action, would hurt the United States badly.

Supply lines aside, Islamabad should not assume that the United States is eager to ensure that the Pakistani state survives. Pakistan also should not assume that the United States is impressed by the absence or presence of Pakistani troops on the Afghan border. Washington has developed severe doubts about Pakistan’s commitment and effectiveness in the Afghan-Pakistani border region, and therefore about Pakistan’s value as an ally.

Pakistan’s strongest card with the United States is the threat to block the port of Karachi. But here, too, there is a counter to Pakistan: If Pakistan closes Karachi to American shipping, either the Indian or American navy also could close it to Pakistani shipping. Karachi is Pakistan’s main export facility, and Pakistan is heavily dependent on it. If Karachi were blocked, particularly while Pakistan is undergoing a massive financial crisis, Pakistan would face disaster. Karachi is thus a double-edged sword. As long as Pakistan keeps it open to the Americans, India probably won’t block it. But should Pakistan ever close the port in response to U.S. action in the Afghan-Pakistani borderland, then Pakistan should not assume that the port will be available for its own use.

India’s Military Challenge

India faces difficulties in all of its military options. Attacks on training camps sound more effective than they are. Concentrating troops on the border is impressive only if India is prepared for a massive land war, and a naval blockade has multiple complications.

India needs a military option that demonstrates will and capability and decisively hurts the Pakistani government, all without drawing India into a nuclear exchange or costly ground war. And its response must rise above the symbolic.

We have no idea what India is thinking, but one obvious option is airstrikes directed not against training camps, but against key government installations in Islamabad. The Indian air force increasingly has been regarded as professional and capable by American pilots at Red Flag exercises in Nevada. India has modern Russian fighter jets and probably has the capability, with some losses, to penetrate deep into Pakistani territory.

India also has acquired radar and electronic warfare equipment from Israel and might have obtained some early precision-guided munitions from Russia and/or Israel. While this capability is nascent, untested and very limited, it is nonetheless likely to exist in some form.

The Indians might opt for a drawn-out diplomatic process under the theory that all military action is either ineffective or excessively risky. If it chooses the military route, New Delhi could opt for a buildup of ground troops and some limited artillery exchanges and tactical ground attacks. It also could choose airstrikes against training facilities. Each of these military options would achieve the goal of some substantial action, but none would threaten fundamental Pakistani interests. The naval blockade has complexities that could not be managed. That leaves, as a possible scenario, a significant escalation by India against targets in Pakistan’s capital.

The Indians have made it clear that the ISI is their enemy. The ISI has a building, and buildings can be destroyed, along with files and personnel. Such an aerial attack also would serve to shock the Pakistanis by representing a serious escalation. And Pakistan might find retaliation difficult, given the relative strength of its air force. India has few good choices for retaliation, and while this option is not a likely one, it is undoubtedly one that has to be considered.

It seems to us that India can avoid attacks on Pakistan only if Islamabad makes political concessions that it would find difficult to make. The cost to Pakistan of these concessions might well be greater than the benefit of avoiding conflict with India. All of India’s options are either ineffective or dangerous, but inactivity is politically and strategically the least satisfactory route for New Delhi. This circumstance is the most dangerous aspect of the current situation. In our opinion, the relative quiet at present should not be confused with the final outcome, unless Pakistan makes surprising concessions.

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STRATFOR is a private provider of in-depth geopolitical intelligence. This report can be found at www.stratfor.com. STRATFOR provides its members with in-depth analysis, forecasts, and information aimed at achieving a high degree of situational awareness.

Should the concept of ‘responsibility to protect’ be turned into humanitarian law?

2008-12-07T00:15:00.000-08:00

-Written by AJ Reibel, MIR program, New Zealand

Responsibility to protect (R2P) has increasingly become an issue of concern on the international stage as civil wars, ethnic strife, economic and environmental mismanagement, violent struggles over limited resources and livelihoods, and commercial interests have brought about immense human suffering across areas of underdevelopment. As more attention has been directed at foci of instability and threats to human security, R2P has come to the forefront in discussions of emergency relief, conflict management and minimisation, and peace-building efforts. Responsibility to protect should be recognised as an important precept of international humanitarian law (IHL). Nonetheless, due to national and state sensitivities, the importance of sovereignty, and the limited precedence of military mobilisations with strictly altruistic agendas, R2P seems consigned to remain a precept agreed to by states – and, therefore, regarded as an international norm and value – but frequently dismissed in practice.

It is undeniable that, although intrusive and divisive, the notion of intervention in order to guarantee international R2P can be widely regarded as a feasible solution to address situations that have the potential to become (or have already degenerated into) acts of genocide and mass human rights violations. When a country, such as South Africa, allows for wanton violence and systematic terror to reign supreme across townships that dot its urban landscape, it has failed to properly ensure the security of humans living within its territorial integrity. What matters little in actuality (although not in theory) is whether the humans being targeted in an explosion of pent-up frustrations and disillusionment are citizens of the state or not. The idea of ensuring the rights of individuals and upholding human rights would mean that the government of South Africa has the responsibility to protect its immigrant populations as well as its citizens.

In the case that a country cannot, or is unwilling, to protect its inhabitants, then some proponents of R2P suggest that “protection” should be imposed by an external actor. Typical examples of this notion are in situations of humanitarian crises in failed states. Somalia, the DRC, Liberia, Lesotho, Bosnia, the Solomon Islands, and Timor-Leste all typify both successful and unsuccessful attempts to apply the R2P theory to practice.

The simple fact that involvements and internationally or regionally-sanctioned interventions were agreed upon in the examples listed above was that there was little resistance by the respective state in question. In other words, Lesotho did not (nor could it) resist the South African Development Community’s (SADC) decision to endorse a South African stabilisation force in Lesotho following the break-down in law in order in Maseru in the late 1990s.

Things look quite different, however, when more robust states violate the rights of segments of their populations. When the Sudanese government in Khartoum orchestrates a campaign of violence and brutality against its Christian, Animist and Bantu-speaking populations, proponents of a moral intervention (in order to meet the failure of Khartoum’s responsibility to protect all of its inhabitants) find fewer states willing to carry out just such an operation. In this regard, Cordula Droege’s legal article, “The Interplay Between International Humanitarian Law and International Human Rights Law in Situations of Armed Conflict,” presents some excellent arguments for why both IHL and international human rights law (IHRL) should be recognised as overlapping rights that governments must strive to protect at home and abroad.

Nevertheless, Cordula seems to overlook the inherent differences of intervention in order to force warring factions to adhere by internationally-recognised rules of armed conflict and forcibly defending the livelihoods of populaces in different countries. When a general breakdown of society due to armed conflict ensues, the international community is quick to call for combatants to adhere to precepts of IHL. If ill-equipped armed groups violate IHL, such as the reprehensible tactics of intimidation carried out by Sierra Leone’s disparate rebel forces during the civil war of the late 1990s and early 2000s, the international community is more likely to get involved in a vacuous political situation. When formidable authoritarian regimes, on the other hand, violate precepts of IHRL – as China is often accused of doing – the international community is much less willing to act.

For the reasons demonstrated above, it seems that although R2P should be incorporated into IHL, it is unfeasible for it to be wholly integrated into IHL because fewer countries will champion and uphold the tenets of IHL. The end result will be a general disregard for vital IHL and simple lip-service paid to IHL and IHRL concepts at different International Forums and at the UN.

From Sunday Mass to Mass Movements: Civil Society in Latin America

2008-11-18T20:36:00.000-08:00

-Written by AJ Reibel, MIR program, New Zealand

HISTORICAL EXPERIENCE AND ITS LASTING ISSUES
The Latin American region covers a huge geographic area, from the north of Mexico to the southern tip of Argentina’s Tierra del Fuego, and encompasses Spanish-speaking Central and South America and Portuguese-speaking Brazil.[1] As a result of its Iberian medieval colonial history and ingrained Catholic traditional power structure, which resulted in a divisive class structure, many Latin American nations have produced grassroots civil society (CS) movements that have affected the region’s political makeup.

When the first Spaniards landed on the northern shores of Latin America in 1492, they beheld a vast expanse that they exploited in the name of their king and Saviour. In 1542, Bishop Bartolomé de Las Casas compiled an account of the violence and abuse unleashed by the conquistadores on the indigenous communities initially in the Caribbean, and later Central and South America. De Las Casas described how the conquistadores killed off approximately 500,000 indigenous people in the areas of present-day Nicaragua and Costa Rica.[2] De Las Casas recounted to his king how privateers hired by the Spanish governors kidnapped and enslaved an additional 500,000 indigenous inhabitants.[3]

The traumatic Spanish colonisation and exploitation of Central America was mirrored in the Spanish advance into the South American interior. With colonisation followed an entrenchment of European ascendency over the indigenous inhabitants. Throughout Latin America the stage was set for the future exploitation and marginalisation of the indigenous inhabitants.

The Spanish colonial masters and their mixed-race offspring – mestizos – formed an early oligarchic class throughout many of the colonies of Latin America. This oligarchic societal structure survived over 300 years of Spanish colonial rule, the independence struggle led by Simon Bolivar, the induction of the newly independent Latin American states into the international community, the industrial revolution, and into the modern era. Oligarch families still wield considerable power in many Latin American states – Ecuador’s Familias de la Patria[4] serve as a modern example.

In addition to the stratification of Latin American social classes, pitting oligarchs against the masses[5], the colonial experience interwove the power of the Catholic Church into the social fabric and governing structure. The Church, in the case of Latin America, has been closely tied to governance. For this reason, the Church has served a contradictory role both within Latin American CS and the structure of governance.

Taking Latin America’s historical experience and the ensuing social stratification into account, the region’s CS faces tremendous and on-going challenges. Encouragingly, components of Latin American CS have started to meet various challenges. Civil society organisations (CSOs) have reacted to challenges in the following areas: human rights, land redistribution, equal political representation, economic development, the role of the Catholic Church, irresponsible corporate practices leading to environmental degradation, and good governance.

HUMAN RIGHTS
Latin American CS faces the daunting task of addressing numerous human rights abuses. The prevalence of dictatorial regimes throughout Latin America, especially during the last century, has frequently resulted in repressive action by government forces against a broad spectrum of protest.

Prominent cases over the first half of the 20th Century included brutality and long prison terms for peasants that resisted the United Fruit Company’s exploitative corporate practices and Fulgencio Batista’s repression of Cuban political dissent. Kiyoteru Tsutsui and Christine Min Wotipka agree that often “…governmental actors [were] not… concerned with human rights and… even [worked] to actively undermine international progress in human rights as was witnessed by some military governments in Latin America.”[6]

Violent Latin American revolutionary movements have gained popular support as a result of unpopular and repressive dictators. Batista’s government fell to the revolutionary forces led by Fidel and Raúl Castro, and Ernesto “Che” Guevara. Similarly, Somoza’s brutal rule in Nicaragua ended with the assumption of power of Daniel Ortega’s Sandinista Revolution. Despite examples of violent popular leftist revolutions, many dictatorial regimes faced growing discontent and resistance at the grassroots level.

To quell mass resistance to conservative, oligarch-supported governmental authoritarianism and to stem the threat of revolution, many Latin American states orchestrated “dirty wars” against their populaces. Repressive action created resistance which, in turn, led to more repression. Argentina’s military junta was accused of kidnapping over 30,000 dissenters[7]; Pinochet’s regime in Chile jailed, tortured and killed thousands of intellectuals, labour organisers and supposed leftists[8]; and, under the Fujimori government in Perú, military death squads violently neutralised support for the Sendero Luminoso guerrilla movement[9].

As people in Southern and Eastern Europe had “...rejected the cruelty and corruption of their governments,” Latin American workers, intellectuals, poor women, urban poor and young people formed the bases for mass anti-authoritarian movements.[10] An example of an effective anti-authoritarian movement was that of Argentina’s Las Madres de la Plaza de Mayo who called for information regarding the plight of family members abducted by the military junta in the 1970s.[11]

DISTRIBUTION OF LAND
Land reform is another issue that faces CSOs throughout Latin America. The issue has attracted international media attention, with impressive grassroots mobilisations demanding that land ownership be reformed to redress the historic marginalisation and seizure of land from the indigenous and peasant classes.

Many Central American and Andean states have in common a disenfranchised landless indigenous class. Bolivia serves as an example of a state that experienced a mini land reform – granted by its government and directed by community-based Chapare sindicatos[12] – that took place in the 1980s under the direction of a Centre-Left government led by the Unidad Democratica Popular (UDP).[13]
[Along] with the assistance of the government's National Institute of Colonisation, the Chapare sindicatos carried out a mini-land reform in their area. Local sindicatos organized, in a rapid, ad hoc manner, the invasion of land owned by professionals, government employees, military officials, and commercial groups. Dozens of properties, generally ranging from 100-1,000 hectares, were carved up, either in toto or in part, by the peasant reformers.[14]
Guatemala’s historically disenfranchised indigenous peoples did not organise as quickly and, as a result, the Guatemalan military was able to conduct a campaign of violence and intimidation against the rural poor. Rigoberta Menchú, a poor and uneducated Guatemalan Indian who went on to win the Nobel Peace Prize, described how before her community became involved in the Comité de Unidad Campesina[15] (CUC), they frequently faced land invasions, paramilitary attacks, and systematic subjugation by Guatemalan government functionaries and security services (under the direction of the state’s wealthy oligarchic landowners).[16]

POLITICAL VOICE AND ECONOMIC DEVELOPMENT
In addition to confronting authoritarian regimes and agitating for land redistribution, Latin American CS faces the difficult task of extending a political voice to its disadvantaged classes while also facilitating sustainable economic development to address their poverty. Although the gap between rich and poor is striking throughout the region, states have achieved different levels of political and economic development over the past decades.

The recent election of President Evo Morales in Bolivia has confirmed the power of mass mobilisation and the role of Bolivian CS in redressing economic and political inequalities. Morales, an Aymara Indian, who, like the majority of his supporters, migrated from the Bolivian altiplano with the closure[17] of “...the state-owned Corporación Minera Boliviana mines...”, resulting in the loss of 23,000 jobs.[18] Like many others that migrated to the Chapare lowlands to seek work, he set about clearing unoccupied land to cultivate coca. Morales joined a sindicato and gradually became recognised as an Aymara union leader. In 1989 he became “...president of the seven federations of coca growers,” otherwise known as the Cocaleros.[19]

Morales continued to work as the leader of the Cocaleros[20] while helping to organise “...resistance to the [on-going coca] eradication program, [and] reaching out to other national unions and to international human rights organizations...” in order to focus international attention on the heavy-handed[21] Bolivian government eradication tactics.[22] With massive support from the Cocaleros, Morales was elected president as the Movimiento al Socialismo (MÁS) candidate.[23] This is an example of mass political influence wielded by a previously disenfranchised segment of the population. CS mass mobilisation linked to a political movement – common in Latin America – has directly influenced Bolivia’s recent political direction.

The historically disenfranchised poor in Bolivia, Ecuador, Venezuela, and Brazil have secured greater political influence through the formation of social movements. It is therefore understandable that Srilatha Batliwala highlights an emergence of militant peasant movements in Latin America as illustrative of the growth of grassroots movements that are “…critically questioning the right and need to have their issues and concerns represented by others.”[24] The elections of Ecuador’s Rafael Correa[25], Venezuela’s Hugo Chavez, and Brazil’s Luis Ignacio da Silva have focused much-needed attention on the plight of the masses.

In fact, “…[the] World Bank produced a major study of inequality and human capital formation in the region in 1996, which highlighted the fact that income inequality in Latin America has been the highest in the world in the postwar decades…”[26] It is hoped that partnerships between governments, CS, and the market will “…encourage dialogue to address [the] problems [of economic underdevelopment and]… replace the street protests, political mobilisation, and contentious politics that had characterized the region’s recent past.”[27]

Political enfranchisement is not enough, as representation alone won’t alleviate the problems facing the poor that have brought Latin American populist leaders to power. Economic development is desperately needed to raise the standard of living of the rural and urban poor, who account for the majority of the region’s population. Inequity poses a serious ongoing challenge to domestic and regional CS, and governments alike.

How might the current economic underdevelopment of certain segments of Latin America actually hinder democratisation despite promising mass political association and activism? Is mass political participation conducive to democratization in Latin America? John A. Booth and Patricia Bayer Richards explain that mass political participation does not automatically promote democratisation. Booth and Richard’s data on the relationships between education, standard of living, campaigning, and democratic norms in Latin America suggest that communalism taps into the “…urban activism most widespread among the poor and less educated…” – segments of the population that tend to favour short-term economic improvement over longer-term democratisation.[28]

Often, manipulation of the marginalised allows for the rise of authoritarian governments. Venezuela’s Hugo Chávez fits the profile of a populist leftist leader whose political agenda hinders democratisation. Juan Perón, who drew massive support from the Argentine urban poor, exemplified Booth and Richard’s observations of the inconsistency between populist leadership and the continuance of non-democratic practices.

To break the linkage between marginalisation and authoritarian rule, it is imperative that CS, governments, and markets form the partnership for dialogue that Howell and Pearce believe will lead to clear and widespread regional economic development.

THE DILEMMA OF THE CURIA
The Catholic Church was one of the first institutions of power transferred from Spain and Portugal to the New World. Unlike religious organisations in today’s CS, the traditional Catholic hierarchy was closely tied to Spain’s monarchy –the Spanish kings were known as Los Reyes Católicos[29]. What, then, has been the role of the Catholic Church in Latin America? Can it be fully included under the category of civil society? And finally, has the Church been a proponent of human rights, equality, and political enfranchisement or a bastion of conservatism throughout Latin America?

The answers to the above-mentioned questions are not straightforward. The role of the Church has been diverse in different Latin American states. In Mexico, it saw its power drastically curtailed during the civil wars in the early 20th Century. In Chile, the Catholic Church squared-off against a popular socialist movement that drew strength from the country’s urban centres. Beginning in the 1930s, the Chilean Catholic Church began ‘...speaking out against Marxism and developing structures through which [it] could deal with the [changes in society’s aspirations].”[30] The Catholic bishops in Chile “...feared that a leftist government would persecute the Church.”[31]

The experience of the Church in Brazil largely mirrored its early experiences in Chile. Brazilian bishops feared a Marxist-Socialist government in Brazil, and were, therefore, relieved when a military coup seized power in 1964.[32] Despite early support by Brazilian bishops, priests and other Catholic functionaries faced increasing persecution under the military junta.
Countless priests, seminarians, and lay church workers were arrested, tortured, or expelled from the country. Five priests were assassinated, and nine bishops were arrested or detained... Meanwhile, the bishops were also becoming aware of the increasing economic hardships being suffered by the majority of the people as a result of the government’s new economic policies. By the late 1960s they began to speak out against the military regime.[33]

Elsewhere in Latin America, the division between the aims of the leadership of the Catholic Curia and the political ideology of priests and other lower-level Church functionaries widened as the latter increasingly identified with the poor and marginalised. Liberation theologians and Base Christian communities gained popular support as they often served to give a voice to the disadvantaged.

During the Cold War, Nicaragua served as an example of the dichotomy of the Curia’s policies. Gramsci explains that an institution can have contradictory aims as different segments within the institution may ascribe to differing ideologies and pursue divergent policies.[34] The Church hierarchy supported the oligarchic political dominance of the Somoza regime, while priests who espoused liberation theology - most prominently Ernesto Cardenal - promoted the rise to power of the Sandinista revolution as a means to empower the marginalised poor.

Villela suggested that “[the] Catholic Church in Nicaragua cannot be treated as if it constituted one monolithic whole; it is better conceptualized as an ‘interclass social space’ in which competing social classes seek religious legitimation for their respective political projects.”[35] This statement could be extended to include the role of the Catholic Church throughout Latin America. As a result, the Church is both a component of CS and the government. Much like other components of CS, it serves as what Jan Aart Scholte suggests is a political space that “...speaks of people coming together to determine the direction of their society.”[36]

FOREIGN COMPANIES, THE ENVIRONMENT, AND ECONOMIC ADJUSTMENTS
Transnational corporations (TNCs) and foreign Neoliberal institutions – typically referred to as the Washington Consensus – have had a significant effect on the broad spectrum of CS in Latin America. TNCs have pursued profits while ignoring or suppressing the demands of the masses in their areas of operation. Foreign-owned conglomerates have faced increasing resistance from grassroots movements protesting everything from environmental degradation to the stifling of traditional livelihoods. Foreign oil companies in Ecuador[37], Western-owned gas companies in Bolivia, privatised municipal services in Bolivia[38], and foreign-held oil companies in Venezuela[39] have seen tremendous civil pressure and mass protests sweep reforms through parliaments that have stripped them of their “goldmine” investments[40].

Gramascian theory helped shape the precedence of Latin American mass movements by suggesting “…that civil society was an autonomous arena between economy and state, where the hegemonic ideology of capitalism could be challenged as well as reproduced.”[41] Furthermore, Gramascian theory maintained that social movements have a place in “…resisting cultural and social as well as economic forms of domination and repression…”[42] As a result, the theory draws parallels between CS and “the protagonism of social movements.”[43]

In addition to resisting TNCs, massive austerity protests have rocked Latin American countries and led governments to change policies regarding the damage and excesses caused by TNCs. The protests have largely responded to worsening economic conditions blamed on IMF structural adjustments and the resultant domestic fiscal policies. Some fiscal policy reforms did away with subsidised government services or subsidies paid outright to segments of the population. Generally, the poor were most affected by the policies. As a result, most of the initial “…participants [of austerity protests] were mainly drawn from the urban poor, who were hardest hit by the removal of subsidies…”[44] Nonetheless, “...when their bank deposits were frozen, middle-class consumers, shopkeepers, students, and public employees were ready to join the poor in the streets.”[45]

Austerity protests have been a sign of the growth of a new sector within Latin American CS. Between 1983 and 1985 alone, there were “…14 major protests in Peru, 13 in Bolivia, 11 in Argentina and Brazil, and 7 in Chile and Venezuela…”[46] Having been thrust to the forefront of CS discussions, with an impressive number of major protests over the last two decades, mass mobilisation continues to demonstrate the strength of “…newer forms of grassroots organizations…” and their NGO supporters that Salamon and Anheier describe in The Emerging Sector Revisited.[47]

The previously mentioned “…2000 Cochabamba Water War against the World Bank-driven privatization of the [municipal water company]…” [48] is an example of a successful and significant austerity protest that has set a precedent for future major protests throughout the region.

GOOD GOVERNANCE AND ERADICATING CORRUPTION
Now that some light has been shed on the power of the mobilisation of mass protests, it might seem natural that the grassroots movements, discussed by Salamon and Anheier, serve to reinforce good governance in different Latin American states. Unfortunately, with a history of stratified classism and oligarchic rule, many Latin American countries have not yet benefited from equality and transparency – qualities that so impressed Alexis de Tocqueville in the early 19th Century on his trip to the nascent American democracy.[49]

Latin America has long lacked the same equality and transparency characteristic of the United States’ democratic process. The majority of Latin American states are still overcoming long-standing democratic deficits created by centuries of colonialism – originally external and later internal[50]. Democratic deficits and economic power in the hands of a few families breeds corruption, which further inhibits the process of democratisation and the cultivation of good governance.

Despite their democratic deficits and desire for good governance, Latin American states have managed to enact economic reforms that mirrored free-market reforms in North America and Europe. How did Latin American countries achieve similar reforms that have served to expand the economic base of North American and European democratic states? Latin American dictators and their supportive oligarchies pushed through fiscal reforms meant to benefit a select few. In many cases, “…teams of technocrats who operated alongside and above preexisting bureaucracies… [were employed in order to] bypass [the same] bureaucracies, operating under largely democratic governments with elements of civil societies…”[51]

Such opaque and anti-democratic methods, employed by authoritarian leaders to enact reforms in benefit of a margin of society, have resulted in neither full egalitarian political representation nor good governance. William Ratliff states that until “…honest governance, shared growth, and basic education and health…” are pursued by their governments, Latin American populations will not benefit from economic reforms.[52] There is still much room for improvement by the two major non-profit sectors of CS – one “…composed of…traditional charitable organization[s] and other agencies linked to the social and economic elite and the other associated with the relatively newer forms of grassroots organization[s] and…[NGOs] that support them.”[53]

LEAVING UNFINISHED BUSINESS TO TIME
When discussing CS and its responses to challenges, it becomes difficult to fully describe the plethora of forms in which CS organisations appear. Some Latin American CSOs are simply social organisations, while others are social action community groups, and still others represent outraged citizens that straddle the line between social movements and insurrection.

Despite trying to shed more light on many different CS approaches to diverse problems, there are many unanswered questions about the definition of Latin American CS. For example, “…[how] can NGOs and grassroots organizations take advantage of the spaces donors encourage them to occupy, while retaining their own agenda, and…legitimacy with the…populations they speak for?”[54] How can grassroots movements and social mobilisations – which elevate issues to the attention of government and propel leaders to power – remain in the politically active, yet non-party affiliated, “arena between economy and state” that Gramsci referred to? How can Latin American mass movements (that follow a Gramascian notion of preserving an “anti-capitalist resistance” [55]) remain within CS when their movement becomes a political party?

It is difficult to fully separate Latin American CS from the political sphere. For this reason, Jan Aart Scholte’s explanation – that CS’s use of political space should exclude political parties and, instead, refer to “…people coming together to determine the direction of their society”[56] –explains the role of mass movements in Latin American CS. The cooperation that Scholte refers to is the best hope to resolve issues that have caused tension between different sectors in Latin American countries. At the root of it, Latin Americans face continuing “...problems of poverty, exclusion, and social violence [that remain]...serious concerns for bilateral and multilateral donors...”[57] Latin American social movements, grassroots organisations, NGOs, charitable foundations, Church groups, school groups, and other sectors of CS have their work cut out for them.

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[1] Generally, Guyana (a former British colony), Suriname (a former Dutch colony) and French Guyana are considered part of South America yet, not included in Latin America. Guyana identifies more with former British colonies in the Caribbean than with its Spanish and Portuguese-speaking neighbours.
[2] Bartolomé De Las Casas, Brevísima relación de la destrucción de las Indias 1552 (Madrid: Íntegra Cofrás S.A., 2001), 47.
[3] Ibid.
[4] Ecuador’s Familias de la Patria is the name given to the major Ecuadorian families that have collectively held the reins of economic and political power since the end of Spanish colonialism.
[5] The general term “the masses” refers to large poor indigenous populations in Honduras, Guatemala, México, Nicaragua, Ecuador, Perú, Bolivia, Paraguay, and Chile. In nations such as Venezuela, Argentina, Colombia, Brazil, and Costa Rica, “the masses” encompasses both the urban and rural poor with less separation along racial lines.
[6] Kiyoteru Tsutsui and Christine Min Wotipka, “Global Civil Society and the International Human Rights Movement: Citizen Participation in Human Rights International Nongovernmental Organizations,” Social Forces, Vol. 83, No. 2 (Dec., 2004): 590.
[7] “Historia de las Madres: Las Madres en Primera Persona,” Asociación Madres de Plaza de Mayo, http://www.madres.org/asociacion/historia/historia.asp [viewed 21/04/2008].
[8] James Reynolds, “Finding Chile’s Disappeared,” BBC News, January 10, 2001, http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/1109861.stm [viewed 21/04/2008].
[9] “Death Squad Shares Secrets in Fujimori Trial: Colina members testify they were following orders during slayings,” MSNBC, February 6, 2008, http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/23034232/ [viewed 21/04/2008].
[10] Jude Howell and Jenny Pearce, Civil Society and Development: A Critical Exploration (Boulder, Colorado: Lynne Rienner Publishers, 2002), 15.
[11] “Historia de las Madres: Las Madres en Primera Persona,” Asociación Madres de Plaza de Mayo.
[12] The Chapare sindicatos are a grouping of local unions that were created by indigenous Bolivians in the department of Cochabamba to address community development concerns and to “…block attempts of the state to both reduce coca production and control coca-leaf marketing…” Taken from: Kevin Healy, “Political Ascent of Bolivia’s Peasant Coca Leaf Producers,” Journal of Interamerican Studies and World Affairs, Vol. 33, No. 1 (Spring, 1991): 87.
[13] Healy, “Political Ascent of Bolivia’s Peasant Coca Leaf Producers,” 91.
[14] Ibid.
[15] Comité de Unidad Campesina (CUC) translated into English means Committee for Rural Unity.
[16] Elizabeth Burgos, ed., Me Llamo Rigoberta Menchú Y Así Me Nació La Conciencia (Barcelona: Seix Barral, 1992), 130.
[17] The closure of the mines was a result of Paz Estenssoro’s government plan to “…privatize the economy and dismantle the model of state capitalism which had been put in place as part of the 1952 social revolution.” Taken from: Healy, “Political Ascent of Bolivia’s Peasant Coca Leaf Producers,” 102.
[18] Ibid.
[19] Roger Burbach, “Evo Morales and the Roots of Revolution,” The Native Press, April 15, 2007, www.thenativepress.com/news/bolivia.html [viewed 20/04/08].
[20] The Cocaleros make up a network of coca-growers in the Chapare region that historically grew from the sindicatos, or unions, of rural Aymara. The raison d’être of the sindicatos was to protect the rural farmers from the Bolivian government’s policy of coca eradication (heavily supported by the US State Department) and to preserve Aymara livelihoods and traditions.
[21] The homes of coca farmers were routinely invaded and ransacked, “…[subsistence] crops along with coca plants… were trampled and destroyed…” and Aymara and Quechua Indians were beaten and arrested. Taken from: Burbach, “Evo Morales and the Roots of Revolution.”
[22] Ibid.
[23] Jeffery R. Webber, “From Rebellion to Reform: Bolivia’s Evo Morales and the Movimiento al Socialismo,” International Studies Association (Chicago, 2007) [Draft Article], 4.
[24] Srilatha Batliwala, “Grassroots Movements as Transnational Actors: Implications for Global Civil Society,” in Creating a Better World: Interpreting Global Civil Society, ed. Rupert Taylor (Bloomfield, CT: Kumarian Press, 2004), 71.
[25] Rafael Correa’s campaign was supported by the forajidos. Forajidos means the disenfranchised or poor landless class.
[26] Howell and Pearce, Civil Society and Development: A Critical Exploration, 204.
[27] Ibid.
[28] John A. Booth and Patricia Bayer Richard, “Civil Society, Political Capital, and Democratization in Central America,” The Journal of Politics, Vol. 60, No. 3 (August, 1998): 790.
[29] Los Reyes Católicos means ‘Catholic Kings’ in Spanish.
[30] Madeleine Adriance, “The Paradox of Institutionalization: The Roman Catholic Church in Chile and Brazil,” Sociological Analysis, Vol. 53, Special Presidential Issue Conversion, Charisma, and Institutionalization (1992): S53.
[31] Ibid.
[32] Ibid., S56.
[33] Adriance, “The Paradox of Institutionalization: The Roman Catholic Church in Chile and Brazil,” S56.
[34] Dana Sawchuk, “The Catholic Church in the Nicaraguan Revolution: A Gramascian Analysis,” Sociology of Religion, Vol. 58, No.1 (Spring, 1997): 40. Taken from: A. Gramsci, Selections from the prison notebooks of Antonio Gramsci, translated and edited by Q. Hoare and G. N. Smith, New York: International Publishers, 1971.
[35] Ibid. Taken from: H. Villela, “The Church and the process of democratization in Latin America,” Social Compass, 26 (1979): 267.
[36] Ray Goldstein, INTP 445 class lecture, Victoria University of Wellington, New Zealand, 2 April, 2008.
[37] Oil companies such as American Occidental Petroleum, Brazil’s Petrobas, France’s Perenco, Spain’s Repsol YPF, and China’s Andes Petroleum have all faced intense pressure from Ecuadorian President, Rafael Correa, to sign new service provider contracts with the government’s national oil company, Petroecuador. The effect of the new agreement will be to drastically reduce oil profits going to foreign companies. Instead, Petroecuador will pay the foreign companies a yearly fee in return for technical services rendered. Taken from: “Ecuador Oil: More Trouble Ahead,” Latin Business Chronicle, 16 October, 2007. Found at http://ecuador-rising.blogspot.com/2007_10_01_archive.html [viewed 18/4/2008].
[38] Between 1999 and 2000, large-scale popular protests erupted in Cochabamba. The protestors demanded that Bechtel return the municipal water supply to Bolivian control. The crippling protests succeeded in driving Bechtel out. Taken from: Roger Burbach, “Evo Morales and the Roots of Revolution,” The Native Press.
[39] Rafael Correa is following the example set by Venezuela’s Hugo Chávez in stripping contracts from foreign oil companies and forcing them to sign service provider contracts with the state-owned oil producer.
[40] Rafael Correa talks of wresting control of Ecuador’s Amazonian oil reserves from foreign companies in order to safeguard the Amazon’s biodiversity and the livelihood of indigenous groups, such as the Waorani. Indigenous communities have formed community action groups, such as La Associación de Mujeres Waorani de la Amazonía Ecuatoriana, AMWAE, and have coordinated their efforts with both Global CSOs (such as OilWatch) and local CSOs (such as Acción Ecológica). Taken from: Agneta Enstrom, “Ecuador: Swedish Construction versus Indigenous Survival in the Amazon,” Upside Down World , 9 October, 2007 [Enstrom is editor of Yelah]. Found on http://ecuador-rising.blogspot.com/2007_10_01_archive.html [viewed 18/4/2008].
[41] Jenny Pearce, “Collective Action or Public Participation?: Civil society and the public sphere in post-transition Latin America,” in Exploring Civil Society: Political and Cultural Contexts, ed. Marlies Glasius, David Lewis and Hakan Seckinelgin (New York: Routledge, 2005), 63.
[42] Ibid.
[43] Ibid.
[44] Sidney Tarrow, The New Transnational Activism, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005, 65.
[45] Ibid.
[46] Ibid.
[47] Pearce, “Collective Action or Public Participation?: Civil society and the public sphere in post-transition Latin America,” in Exploring Civil Society: Political and Cultural Contexts, 63. Taken from: L. Salamon and H. Anheier, The Emerging Sector Revisited: A Summary (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1999), 17.
[48] Jeffery R. Webber, “From Rebellion to Reform: Bolivia’s Evo Morales and the Movimiento al Socialismo,” International Studies Association (Chicago, 2007) [Draft Article], 2.
[49] De Tocqueville marvelled at the voluntary associations that held a democracy together. Taken from: Bhikhu Parekh, “Putting Civil Society in its Place,” in Exploring Civil Society: Political and Cultural Contexts, 19.
[50] By ‘internal colonialism,’ I refer to the monopoly of production, capital, military, and political power held by the oligarchic families of many Latin American states. The indigenous and landless poor have been servile to the oligarchic families, just as they were to the Spanish conquistadores.
[51] William Ratliff, “Development of Civil Society in Latin America and Asia,” Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science, Vol. 565, Civil Society and Democratization (Sept., 1999): 91.
[52] Ibid.
[53] Pearce, “Collective Action or Public Participation?: Civil society and the public sphere in post-transition Latin America,” in Exploring Civil Society: Political and Cultural Contexts, 63. Taken from: L. Salamon and H. Anheier, The Emerging Sector Revisited: A Summary, 17.
[54] Howell and Pearce, Civil Society and Development: A Critical Exploration, 221.
[55] Ibid., 15.
[56] Ibid.
[57] Ibid.

____________
BIBLIOGRAPHY

1. Adriance, Madeleine. “The Paradox of Institutionalization: The Roman Catholic Church in Chile and Brazil.” Sociological Analysis, Vol. 53, Special Presidential Issue Conversion, Charisma, and Institutionalization (1992): S51-S62.

2. Batliwala, Srilatha. “Grassroots Movements as Transnational Actors: Implications for Global Civil Society.” In Creating a Better World: Interpreting Global Civil Society, edited by Rupert Taylor, 64-81. Bloomfield, CT: Kumarian Press, 2004.

3. Booth, John A. and Patricia Bayer Richard. “Civil Society, Political Capital, and Democratization in Central America.” The Journal of Politics, Vol. 60, No. 3 (August, 1998): 780-800.

4. Burbach, Roger. “Evo Morales and the Roots of Revolution.” The Native Press, April 15, 2007. www.thenativepress.com/news/bolivia.html [viewed 20/04/08].

5. Burgos, Elizabeth, ed. Me Llamo Rigoberta Menchú Y Así Me Nació La Conciencia. Barcelona: Seix Barral, 1992.

6. _____. “Death Squad Shares Secrets in Fujimori Trial: Colina members testify they were following orders during slayings.” MSNBC, February 6, 2008. http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/23034232/ [viewed 21/04/2008].

7. De Las Casas, Bartolomé. Brevísima relación de la destrucción de las Indias 1552. Madrid: Íntegra Cofrás S.A., 2001.

8. _____. “Ecuador Oil: More Trouble Ahead.” Latin Business Chronicle, 16 October, 2007. Found at http://ecuador-rising.blogspot.com/2007_10_01_archive.html [viewed 18/4/2008].

9. Enstrom, Agneta. “Ecuador: Swedish Construction versus Indigenous Survival in the Amazon,” Upside Down World , 9 October, 2007. Found on http://ecuador-rising.blogspot.com/2007_10_01_archive.html [viewed 18/4/2008].

10. Goldstein, Ray. INTP 445 class lecture. Victoria University of Wellington, New Zealand, 2 April, 2008.

11. Gramsci, A. Selections from the prison notebooks of Antonio Gramsci. Translated and edited by Q. Hoare and G. N. Smith. New York: International Publishers, 1971.

12. Healy, Kevin. “Political Ascent of Bolivia’s Peasant Coca Leaf Producers.” Journal of Interamerican Studies and World Affairs, Vol. 33, No. 1 (Spring, 1991): 87-121.

13. _____. “Historia de las Madres: Las Madres en Primera Persona.” Asociación Madres de Plaza de Mayo. http://www.madres.org/asociacion/historia/historia.asp [viewed 21/04/2008].

14. Howell, Jude and Jenny Pearce. Civil Society and Development: A Critical Exploration. Boulder, Colorado: Lynne Rienner Publishers, 2002.

15. Parekh, Bhikhu. “Putting Civil Society in its Place.” In Exploring Civil Society: Political and Cultural Contexts, edited by Marlies Glasius, David Lewis and Hakan Seckinelgin, 15-25. New York: Routledge, 2005.

16. Pearce, Jenny. “Collective Action or Public Participation?: Civil society and the public sphere in post-transition Latin America.” In Exploring Civil Society: Political and Cultural Contexts, edited by Marlies Glasius, David Lewis and Hakan Seckinelgin, 61-70. New York: Routledge, 2005.

17. Ratliff, William. “Development of Civil Society in Latin America and Asia.” Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science, Vol. 565, Civil Society and Democratization (Sept., 1999): 91-112.

18. Reynolds, James. “Finding Chile’s Disappeared.” BBC News, January 10, 2001. http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/1109861.stm [viewed 21/04/2008].

19. Salamon, L. and H. Anheier. The Emerging Sector Revisited: A Summary. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1999.

20. Sawchuk, Dana. “The Catholic Church in the Nicaraguan Revolution: A Gramascian Analysis.” Sociology of Religion, Vol. 58, No.1 (Spring, 1997): 39-51.

21. Tarrow, Sidney. The New Transnational Activism. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005.

22. Tsutsui, Kiyoteru and Christine Min Wotipka. “Global Civil Society and the International Human Rights Movement: Citizen Participation in Human Rights International Nongovernmental Organizations.” Social Forces, Vol. 83, No. 2 (Dec., 2004): 587-620.

23. Villela, H. “The Church and the process of democratization in Latin America.” Social Compass, 26 (1979): 261-283.

24. Webber, Jeffery R. “From Rebellion to Reform: Bolivia’s Evo Morales and the Movimiento al Socialismo.” International Studies Association (Chicago, 2007) [Draft Article]: 1-29.

Is there an arms race in Asia? Would it matter if there were?

2008-10-24T04:00:00.000-07:00

-Written by AJ Reibel, MIR program, New Zealand

Although economic integration and closer bilateral relations seem to be emerging between the larger Asia-Pacific powers – including the United States, China, Japan, South Korea, the Russian Federation, Australia, and India – a recent report published by the International Institute of Strategic Studies claims that a potentially-destabilising arms race might be underway as Asian powers look to develop ‘blue sea’ naval capabilities.[1] This is especially worrying to strategic planners and international legal experts alike. Northeast Asia, alone, is the scene of competing strategic interests that involve countries that, together, represent 65% of the world military expenditures.[2] Despite the frightening statistics and clamours of military increases, a potential arms race in Asia is not yet comparable to the tense nuclear weapons arms race between the US and the USSR during the stark days of the Cold War.

Nonetheless, Dr. Andrew Davies of the Australian Strategic Policy Institute claims that, despite his institute’s talk of an arms race, Asia is not currently exhibiting the highly volatile military spending competition normally evident during an arms race.[3] Dr. Davies insists that increases in military expenditures by China, India, and South Korea, the increases are normal given the economic growth that those countries have experienced over the last few years.[4]

Despite Dr. Davies’s optimism, China has embarked on an ambitious goal of safeguarding its precious energy supplies and countering US dominance on the high seas.[5] China has not only set about building frigates, destroyers, nuclear-powered submarines, but it has also aimed to add two aircraft carriers to its expanding navy.[6] In addition to its fleet upgrades and expansion, Beijing has set about refurbishing its existing naval bases and adding one on Hainan Island and several ports in the Indian Ocean – one in Burma, one in Sri Lanka[7], and another along southern Pakistan’s Baluchistan coast.[8]

China’s naval fleet expansion, increases in missile capabilities, and infrastructure improvements have seemingly rattled India, Japan, Taiwan, and South Korea. India has embarked on its own naval infrastructure expansion, negotiating with Vietnam for ports, and has committed to developing three aircraft carriers – two of which will be home-built while the third has already been purchased from Russia.[9] Japan is set to launch its first aircraft carrier (referred to as a larger ‘destroyer’) in 2009 and is also planning to purchase nuclear-power submarines, and the newly developed American F-22 stealth fighter/bomber.[10] Lastly, South Korea recently approved a $665 billion strategic defence plan[11] and Taiwan has increased its military spending from 2.6% of GDP in 2006 to 3% in 2008[12].

Therefore, despite Dr. Davies’s reassuring words, military competition has already been unleashed in the Asia-Pacific. Unfortunately the increasing military expenditures and strategically imposing naval arsenals spell trouble for the region. As Dr. Davies does point out, the military build-up of Asia-Pacific’s great and medium powers – including the powers mentioned above, Russia, Singapore, Thailand, Indonesia, Australia, and the United States, increases the likelihood of a “serious international incident” that may have wider and more damaging results.[13] As such, the Asia-Pacific military increases do threaten to destabilise a seemingly peaceful and economically integrated region.

___________

[1] Tim Shipman and Chad Bouchard, “China is Accused of Fuelling Pacific Arms Race,” Sunday Telegraph, April 1, 2007, taken from: International Institute of Strategic Studies, http://www.iiss.org/whats-new/iiss-in-the-press/press-coverage-2007/april-2007/china-is-accused-of-fuelling-arms-race/ [viewed 29/07/08].
[2] John Feffer, “Hidden Asia Pacific Arms Race: Six Countries Talk Peace While Preparing for War,” Japan Focus, 19 March 2008, http://japanfocus.org/_John_Feffer-Hidden_Asia_Pacific_Arms_Race__Six_Countries_Talk_Peace_While_Preparing_for_War [viewed 27/07/08].
[3] Radio Australia, ‘Fears of Asian arms race unfounded’ 4 July 2008. Listen at: http://www.radioaustralia.net.au/programguide/stories/200807/s2295180.htm [listed to 29/07/08].
[4] Ibid.
[5] __, “Into the Wide Blue Yonder,” The Economist, June 5, 2008, http://www.economist.com/world/asia/displaystory.cfm?story_id=11496828 [viewed 29/07/08].
[6] Ibid.
[7] Ibid.
[8] Vikram Sood, “India and Its External Security,” Vikram Sood’s Perspectives, Wednesday, April 16, 2008, http://soodvikram.blogspot.com/2008/04/india-and-its-external-security.html [viewed 29/07/08].
[9] “Into the Wide Blue Yonder,” The Economist.
[10] Feffer, “Hidden Asia Pacific Arms Race: Six Countries Talk Peace While Preparing for War,” Japan Focus.
[11] Ibid.
12 __, “Taiwan Boosts Military Spending Amid China Increase,” Sino Daily, March 4th, 2008, http://www.sinodaily.com/reports/Taiwan_boosts_military_spending_amid_China_increase_999.html [viewed 29/07/08].
[13] Shipman and Bouchard, “China is Accused of Fuelling Pacific Arms Race,” Sunday Telegraph.

Why the idea of indigenous rights is a sham.

2008-10-03T21:48:00.000-07:00

-Written by AJ Reibel, MIR program, New Zealand

The idea of ending the vestiges of colonialism by extending ‘indigenous rights’, although worthy in theory, will not enfranchise indigenous peoples in the way that many supporters of indigenous rights hope. The notion of special rights is both misleading and undermining in the sense that it serves to render ‘unique’ the experience of the indigenous in the framework of the ‘modern’, globalised system. This uniqueness serves to exclude indigeneity from the prevailing paradigm and, thus, entrench continued marginalisation. Social campaigning and civil rights battles threaten to effectively make permanent the condition of exclusion and defeat that indigenous nations have suffered in the modern system.

In order to accurately describe the chasm between the Western world and an alternative one, such as the world of indigeneity, a clear distinction must be made between the ‘modern’ and ‘pre-modern’ condition. Adam Kruper points out that defining indigeneity is problematic as disagreements over time have led to disparate ethnic and culture groups claiming indigenous rights in different states. Even the absurd case of the Boer nationalists (who demanded representation at the Forum of Indigenous Peoples’ inaugural meeting) validates Kruper’s desire to pin-down a more specific definition of ‘indigeneity’. Kruper resourcefully determines that indigenous people may be recognised as being (or, until recently) a hunter-gatherer people that do not exhibit the sedentary lifestyle that ‘modern’ societies do.[1]

Although often used disparagingly, for the purposes of this explanation, ‘pre-modern’ will be used not to describe a state of inferior development. Instead, it will describe the anthropological treatment of societies that do not meet certain Western conditions; perhaps including agricultural technological implementations, economic machinations, and monotheistic religious devotion. Despite my desire to use the terms free of their pejorative intimations, the division between ‘modern’ and ‘pre-modern’ does establish a comparative relationship that serves to subordinate and exclude the utility of the pre-modern.

Because the international structure favours the westernised system of modernity – including the ongoing process of reducing economic barriers between states, diffusing western cultural behaviours and norms, and fortifying the existence of de-regulated capitalism – any attempt to promote the rights of a marginalised population is problematic. There are two major issues that work to difficult such a task: the concept of sovereignty in the modern context, and the international structure with its intrinsic structural violence.

Sovereignty, thought of as legitimate control over a specific territory and people, has stressed the authority of the state.[2] This Westphalian IR assumption serves to frustrate the understanding of indigenous sovereignty – which may exist in a spatial and temporal sphere different to that of modern society.[3] Herein lies the first underlying discrepancy between the Western and ‘modern’ world and the indigenous one.[4] Indigenous groupings are largely groupings of nations with like-minded members that share a common ethnic, linguistic, and behavioural heritage. What is more, nations do not require a swathe of territory in order to function as a legitimate societal grouping. Most indigenous peoples defend the legitimate sovereign authority of their nations and demand self-determination, yet, often they are forced to settle for limited autonomy as few states can bear to cede sovereignty within their border.

Regardless of how state-makers react to indigenous demands for aboriginal sovereignty, the modern world’s rational state structure inherently denies alternative forms of sovereignty. As such, even modern non-state actors such as multinational corporations lack independence from state actors. In this sense, it can be said that the structure prohibits (both, actively and passively) alternative and independent forms of authority from existing. This structural condition can be seen both at the ideological and communal level.

There is no other way to describe the structural paradigm as anything less than the structural violence described by anthropologist Paul Farmer in his article “Pathologies of Power”.[5] Farmer focuses on the “…social forces ranging from poverty to racism…” and asserts that such forces act to marginalise and subordinate peoples in the current system.[6] Although Farmer relates the experiences of the impoverished Haitian lower class, his observations also apply to the treatment of indigenous people’s throughout the world.

Acts of structural violence, or “structural violations of human rights”, are a direct result of the structures and institutions that govern the international and domestic state system.[7] Rigoberta Menchú, a Maya Indian and recipient of a 1992 Nobel Peace Prize, notably described how her indigenous community faced land invasions, paramilitary attacks, and systematic repression by Guatemalan government functionaries and security services.[8] In addition to describing physical attacks and forced removals, she explained that Guatemalan government, with support from its regional administrations, confiscated indigenous lands by conducting all legal land dealings with indigenous communities in Spanish[9] – a foreign language to most Latin American indigenous peoples – and maintaining the communities in a pitiful state of ignorance. Menchú unknowingly backs Shaw’s emphasis on ‘knowledge as power’ and Farmer’s structural violence by explaining that because indigenous peoples are kept in a state of ignorance, they will continue to be exploited and marginalised.

Structuralists maintain that structural violence is an avoidable effect that denies fundamental “human needs” to a group of people.[10] Despite Galtung’s recognition of such systemic and entrenched indirect violence as a challenge to the implementation of egalitarian human rights, he assumes that such a structure could be altered in order to ‘avoid’ such disempowerment and subjugation. What anthropologists such as Galthung and structural theorists overestimate is the ease of change. This is especially troubling considering that significant resistance to such change is deeply entrenched in the international system, individual state governments and institutions, and within the increasingly powerful international economic institutions.

Accordingly, the only way to properly consider indigenous rights as an achievable target is to acknowledge that the contemporary international structure, rooted in a system of state sovereignty, needs to be amended. The United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples offers a glimpse of a possible future change. It presents a shared hope the entrenched idea of international equality will finally be expanded and altered in order to bring about a paradigm shift that will alter the way that human rights are viewed. Specifically, the document sets the “framework for the future [as]… a tool for peace and justice, based upon mutual recognition and… respect.”[11]

Mutual respect between indigenous ‘pre-modern’ nations and ‘modern’ states is a noble target; however it would mean that states with indigenous nations – including Aotearoa, Canada, the United States, Russia, Finland, Namibia, and Ecuador – would have to cede greater territorial and legal sovereignty to segments of their inhabitants. The question is: would this important concession erode the function of the state as Hobbes described in his Leviathan? What is certain is that without a change to the current international and state system, the notion of indigenous rights will serve to incorporate indigenous peoples into the current international structure. The result of which will be the gradual reduction of the existence of unique indigenous nations and an undermining of indigenous rights.

_________

[1] Adam Kuper, “The Return of the Native,” Current Anthropology, Vol. 44, No. 3 (2003): 389.
[2] Stephen D. Krasner, “Rethinking the sovereign state model,” Review of International Studies, Vol. 27 (2001): 19.
[3] K. Shaw, “Indigeneity and the International,” Millennium, Vol. 31, No. 1 (2002): 4.
[4] Ibid., 3.
[5] Paul Farmer, “Pathologies of Power: Health, Human Rights, and the New War on the Poor,” Public Anthropology, Vol. 4 (?): 2.
[6] Ibid.
[7] Kathleen Ho, “Structural Violence as a Human Rights Violation,” Essex Human Rights Review, Ho’s Master’s Dissertation, Vol. 4, No. 2 (September, 2007): 2.
[8] Elizabeth Burgos, ed., Me Llamo Rigoberta Menchú Y Así Me Nació La Conciencia (Barcelona: Seix Barral, 1992), 130.
[9] Ibid.
[10] Ibid., 3. Taken from: Johan Galtung, “Kulturelle Gewalte,” Der Burger im Staat, Vol. 43 (1993): 106.
[11] Paul Oldham and Miriam Anne Frank, “‘We the peoples…’: The United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples,” Anthropology Today, Vol. 24, No. 2 (2008):_.

To what degree is a liberal foreign policy pacific?

2008-09-21T05:37:00.000-07:00

-Written by AJ Reibel, MIR program, New Zealand

A truly liberal foreign policy, based firmly on Immanuel Kant’s Perpetual Peace, is pacific if it recognizes the egalitarian rights of states in the international system. Lamentably, such a foreign policy is not possible in an anarchic world in which states aim to maximize their power. Consequently, ‘liberal” foreign policies emanating from Washington are not pacific and, instead, are rightly described as being covertly imperialist in Beate Jahn’s article, “Kant, Mill, and Illiberal Legacies in International Affairs.”[1]

Kant and John Stuart Mill, both depicted as liberal thought’s founding fathers, disagreed regarding the liberal ideals and the interaction of liberal states. Despite the fact that Kantian liberal thought, interpreted by John Rawls, seems to accentuate “laws of the people” and the “…right of the [liberal state] to defend [itself] against outlaw states… and the obligation to assist burdened societies,”[2] the theory does not support intervention. Imperialism is defined by Jahn as political thought that justifies interventions aimed at bringing about change and an ideological willingness to use force.[3] Kantian theory explicitly stresses the precepts of non-interference, internally created constitutional processes, and the right to self-defense. Western liberal thought – found in American and British foreign policy and demanding the spread (forcibly, if necessary) of human rights, “cosmopolitan values”[4], and free-market policies – is inherently imperialist.

In fact, Western liberal foreign policies more closely resemble Mill’s liberal theories than they do Kant’s. Beginning with a categorization of civilizations depending on the level of their development, Millian liberal theory has supported the notion of the rule of the ‘more enlightened’ over the “…barbarous or semi-barbarous.”[5] The liberal ideological schism between Kantian and Millian theory established a liberal track that has been labeled ‘Euro-centric’, ‘Western-centric’, and at present, imperialist.

Rudyard Kipling’s poem “The White-man’s Burden” typifies early Millian liberal eurocentrism and scientific ethnocentrism. Despite its likely satirical intention, the poem’s stanzas inspired early Twentieth Century policymakers to enthusiastically disseminate their altruistic (but intrinsically self-interested) liberal policies of economic modernization and social enlightenment.
Take up the White Man's burden--
The savage wars of peace--
Fill full the mouth of Famine,
And bid the sickness cease;
And when your goal is nearest
(The end for others sought)
Watch sloth and heathen folly
Bring all your hope to nought.[6]
The ‘White Man’s Burden’ that so exemplified Twentieth Century liberal policies was borrowed directly from the same Millian theory that supported the existence of “…unequal rights of sovereignty and nonintervention”[7] of less developed civilizations.

As Millian liberalism gained popularity among American and British imperialist policymakers, its approaches became entrenched in the modern liberal philosophy. Though this Millian liberal discourse has strayed since its overtly imperialist heyday, it remains embedded in contemporary American political rhetoric and policy. Both Former President Bill Clinton and President George W. Bush have affirmed their commitment to the spread of democracy. Clinton lauded the “…the simple commitments of all nations in Europe to democracy, to free markets, and to respect for existing borders…” while also praising Washington’s interventions abroad and its sponsoring of international free-market policies.[8] George W. Bush, in keeping with the Millian liberal political dialogue, expressed his desire that Washington, London, and Brussels work together to safeguard freedom, advance democracy, and spread prosperity.[9]

Such liberal foreign policy is dangerously delusional and frighteningly popular throughout the capitals of the West. The blend of fanatical altruism and brutal power maximization is alarming as military strategists and key foreign policy advisors propose liberal imperialist strategies to incumbent administrations. Thomas P.M. Barnett, a strategic planner and senior managing director of Entera Solutions, authored a book called The Pentagon’s New Map: War and Peace in the Twenty-First Century in which he separated the world into a Functioning Core, “…where globalization is thick with network connectivity, financial transactions, liberal media flows, and collective security,” and the Gap, “where globalization is thinning or just plain absent, …regions plagued by politically repressive regimes, widespread poverty and disease, routine mass murder, and—most important—the chronic conflicts that incubate the next generation of global terrorists.”[10]

Barnett calls for Gap countries to be dealt with according to a multi-stage American-led intervention plan that begins “…with security, because free markets and democracy cannot flourish amid chronic conflict.”[11] His grandiose solution involves establishing a more robust military force capable of toppling Gap regimes in succession and, later, rebuilding them into viable democracies – a process that Kant insisted could not be externally initiated and, as such, would be utterly useless.[12]

Although Barnett comes across like a hawkish Millian liberal, his idea of external democracy promotion (installation) has been central to American foreign policy. The National Endowment for Democracy, “…a private, nonprofit organization…”[13] largely funded by the American government, espouses Barnett’s aim of replacing non-democratic states with liberal democracies; albeit, by building up pro-liberal democratic civil society organizations within illiberal states.[14]

Another organization that works to promote Millian liberal thinking within the US is the Princeton Project on National Security – which promotes, amongst free-market liberal policies, international cosmopolitan thinking centered on a responsible international community willing to enforce the precepts of R2P and ready to shore up “liberty” and “law” with military force.[15]

While Millian liberal thought has emerged as the dominant ideology of the West, it is clear that Jahn’s “justified interventionism” has edged out Kant’s true altruism. In this sense, modern liberalism’s ends – with its fascia of liberal cosmopolitanism – resemble neo-realist power maximization. The underlying difference between Millian liberalism and the Mearsheimer School is the delusional altruism used to rationalize Washington’s interventionist foreign policy. Accordingly, American liberal foreign policy is a far cry from the pacific liberalism that Kant espoused in his Perpetual Peace.

____________________
[1] Beate Jahn, “Kant, Mill, and Illiberal Legacies in International Affairs,” International Organization, Vol. 59, No. 1 (2005): 177-207.
[2] Ibid., 183. Taken from: John Rawls, A Theory of Justice (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1973), 90.
[3] Jahn, “Kant, Mill, and Illiberal Legacies in International Affairs,” 178.
[4] Robert Cooper, “The New Liberal Imperialism,” The Observer UK online, 7 April 2002, http://observer.guardian.co.uk/worldview/story/0,11581,680095,00.html.
[5] Jahn, “Kant, Mill, and Illiberal Legacies in International Affairs,” 196. Taken from: __, “Considerations on Representative Government, in On Liberty and Other Essays, ed. John Gray, 203-467 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998a).
[6] Rudyard Kipling, “The White Man’s Burden,” McClure’s Magazine, 12 February 1899, Taken from: http://www.journalism.wisc.edu/mpi/shah/burden.pdf [viewed 13/09/08].
[7] Jan, “Kant, Mill, and Illiberal Legacies in International Affairs,” 200.
[8] __, “1994 State of the Union Address,” Washington Post website, 25 January 1994, http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-srv/politics/special/states/docs/sou94.htm [viewed 13/09/08].
[9] __, “President and Prime Minister Blair Discussed Iraq, Middle East,” The White House website, Office of the Press Secretary, 12 November 2004, http://www.whitehouse.gov/news/releases/2004/11/20041112-5.html [viewed 13/09/08].
[10] Thomas PM Barnett, “The Pentagon’s New Map – It explains why we’re going to war, and why we’ll keep going to war,” Thomas P.M. Barnett, http://www.thomaspmbarnett.com/published/pentagonsnewmap.htm [viewed 14/09/08].
[11] Ibid.
[12] Jan, “Kant, Mill, and Illiberal Legacies in International Affairs,” 189.
[13] __, “About Us,” National Endowment for Democracy website, http://www.ned.org/about/about.html [viewed 14/09/08].
[14] Jonah Gindin, “Interview with William I. Robinson – The Battle for Global Civil Society,” The International Endowment for Democracy website, 13 June 2005, http://www.iefd.org/articles/global_civil_society.php [viewed 14/09/08].
[15] G. John Ikenberry and Anne-Marie Slaughter, “Final Report of the Princeton Project on National Security,” Forging a World of Liberty Under Law (2006): 8, www.wws.princeton.edu/ppns/report/FinalReport.pdf [viewed 13/09/08].

The Shanghai Cooperation Organisation: A Self-Interested Alliance or Collective Security Association?

2008-09-10T22:20:00.000-07:00

-Written by AJ Reibel, MIR program, New Zealand

Introduction

On the 28th of August 2008, the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation (SCO) convened a regular meeting in Tajikistan’s capital to discuss, among other topics, the recent conflict in the Caucasus. The Kremlin had hoped to garner support from its SCO partners. However, China voiced concern over Russia’s recent support for Southern Ossetia and Abkhazian independence.[1] Despite the smiles, handshakes, and talk of ‘traditional friendship and understanding’, there was an underlying tension between the Russian and Chinese parties.

The Kremlin’s ties with Central Asia and China are coming under scrutiny as the West responds to growing Russian assertiveness. Until recently, Western pundits and policymakers had downplayed the SCO’s development while their military strategists had been more vocal in displaying unease at growing ties between the Kremlin and Beijing.

The SCO has emerged as an impressive sounding regional organisation. What is less clear, however, is what the SCO is and what it will be in the future. Is the SCO a treaty organisation meant to counter NATOC expansion or is it, instead, an attempt to better integrate the economies, resources, and norms of its member and observer states? Ultimately, does the SCO more closely mirror ASEAND or NATO? Or, is it a little bit of both organisations rolled up into one?

To determine whether the SCO resembles either NATO or ASEAN, we must examine the aims and differences of both organisations. Secondly, it is important to decide if the SCO’s structure and objectives closely resemble a particular institution’s. If it is determined that the SCO does not closely resemble either organisation, then identifying its similarities and differences will allow for a better understanding of the organisation’s current purpose and future geostrategic role.

Lastly, evaluating the SCO’s aims and actual policies will indicate the level of concord or dissension between its members. Consensus and a distinctive (or hybrid) set of aims and expectations signal that the SCO operates organisation within a constructivist framework. This may indicate that its future is tied to a common regional identity and values system. Incongruity, however signals that the organisation operates as a temporary neo-realist cooperative construct as defined by John J. Mearsheimer and Kenneth Waltz. If it is such an institution, its future may not necessarily be one of disintegration and apathy; interests change and strong identity-based bonds develop.

NATO and ASEAN: Regional institutions with distinct objectives

Despite being regional organisation, NATO and ASEAN are very different. According to NATO’s founding treaty, its members are committed to upholding common values – including democracy, individual liberty and the respect for the rule of law[2]. However, the organisation’s unique mandate has fashioned a security alliance that served the needs of the US and its Western European allies following the end of the Second World War. Conversely, ASEAN aims to ensure that absolute gains are achieved by focusing on regional stability and economic growth.

NATO’s strength comes from its members’ commitment to maintaining its defensive capabilities simply because they each benefit from its overarching security umbrella. To sustain such capabilities, its members have integrated their defensive resources in an example of organisational burden-sharing. Accordingly, the organisation exhibits a neo-realist symptom – that of a self-centred alliance constructed for relative-gains. Waltz points out that NATO has outlived its purported goals yet still remains; evidence that international institutions are tools through which states seek to pursue their interests.[3] Mearsheimer, expanding on Waltz’s idea, predicts that NATO will not prevent a “…move from …present bipolarity (with the United States and Russia as the poles) to unbalanced multipolarity.”[4]

ASEAN’s underpinnings are based on social constructivist assumptions. Mearsheimer explains that, to critical theorists, “…ideas shape the material world in important ways, and thus the way to revolutionize international politics is to change drastically the way individuals think and talk about world politics.”[5] Amitav Acharya, agreeing with Wendt’s observation that “…[state] actors' social identities [can] generate self-interests or collective interests,” insists that regional institutions aimed at addressing issues of collective security may be more successful if the states involved exhibit ‘collective interests’.[6] Acharya explains that identities are important since regional organisations can seem similar, however be different. He explains that “…local agents reconstruct foreign norms to ensure the norms fit with the agents’ cognitive priors and identities.”[7]

In order to make the assertion that the SCO more closely resembles a regional security alliance or a cooperative regional institution it is useful to contrast NATO and ASEAN.

NATO

NATO’s foundation, the 1941 Atlantic Charter, was conceived of by American President Roosevelt and British Prime Minister Churchill at a time when Europe was the scene of the century’s most devastating war and its generation held hopes for a more stable future.[8] The Charter declared that the US and the UK held common values and world views that included a desire for self-determination and sovereignty, free-trade and economic cooperation, and a hope for a future free of war.[9]

In the years following the end of the Second World War, the Free World felt challenged by three monumental tasks: rebuilding Western Europe; ensuring that another cataclysmic war on the scale of the Second World War did not re-occur; and, halting spread of Communism. As Western strategists and policymakers felt that a quick Soviet invasion into Western Europe would be nearly impossible to repel individually, they aimed to create a regional security community made up of the democratic states that agreed that “…an attack on any one member [would] be regarded as an attack against all…”[10]

From its inception, NATO emerged principally as a regional security construct. Although the organisation’s central document contained idealist concepts – such as the assertion that it aims to uphold freedom, democracy, individual liberty and the rule of law – it stressed the need for its members to retain their self-help defences while also working to coordinate a regional defence.[11]

NATO’s aims were, in fact, two-fold. Not only did the organisation aim to resist the perceived Soviet threat, it was also intended to strengthen ties between its members in order to diffuse a future European power struggle. To foster greater stability, NATO’s founding members expected the organisation to integrate Western European economic relationships and to promote great stability, cohesion, and democratization. [12] The Atlantic Treaty, after all, had set the stage, calling for a “…[elimination of] conflict in …international economic policies and…encourage economic collaboration.”[13]

Despite NATO’s split aims, its greatest success has been its military alliance aimed at shielding Western Europe, Canada, and the United States from the threat of Soviet expansion. Nonetheless, James Warburg, co-founder of the Institute for Policy Affairs, criticised NATO’s rigidity and limited scope. He maintained that it was an “outmoded instrument” in a world of increasing free-market interests.[14] In his disparagement of the organisation, Warburg seemed to miss the organisation’s underlying neo-realist assumption. It is, after all, an organisation that remains necessary only as long as it offers stability as a defence alliance.[15]

NATO’s intrinsic raison d’être remains consistent, despite the end of the Cold War, as it emphasizes cooperative security in the face potential external threats. It was concerned with the following: how to protect and accommodate future members; how to manage tensions between current and potential members and Russia; how to combat terrorism aimed at its members; how to mitigate the effects of political instability; and, how to navigate economic uncertainty.[16]

Like NATO, the SCO states that its primary goals are: to build confidence between its respective members; to encourage effective cooperation on key issues; to safeguarding regional peace and security; and, to establish a “…democratic, fair and rational new international political and economic order."[17] Similarly to NATO’s, the SCO’s aims seem to be overarching; nevertheless, the organisation has primarily focused on terrorism, separatism, and the trafficking of illicit drugs. Further mirroring NATO, the SCO has conducted several significant joint military exercises.[18]

ASEAN

Like NATO, ASEAN is a regional organisation that grew from a perceived security threat. However, tin has distinct objectives to those of NATO. Its aims are to work towards a) economic development, cultural growth, and social advancement, and b) regional harmony and stability.[19] Furthermore, its members have affirmed their commitment to cooperating in order to promote a shared vision based on: “…outward looking, living in peace, stability and prosperity, [and] …partnership in dynamic development and in a community of caring societies.”[20]

The organisation grew at a time when communist insurgencies threatened the internal systems of various Southeast Asian states and tension was building between Indonesia and Malaysia.[21] By stressing the idea of regional stability and the importance of non-intervention, it served to eclipse but not threaten SEATO’s aims.

The ‘ASEAN Way’s, which involves “…postponing difficult problems, [and] compartmentalizing an issue, so that it does not interfere with other areas of cooperation, and quiet diplomacy,”[22] proved inadequate in the face of the 1997 Asian Financial Crisis. Unfortunately, this policy of indefinite postponement compromised the organisation’s effectiveness during 1997-1998 economic crisis.[23] During the period of economic woes, each ASEAN member pursued internal policies – aimed at mitigating the effects of the economic crisis – without conducting the usual consultations with other respective members.

As a result of the experience gained during the turbulent years between 1996 and 1997, ASEAN has augmented its security focus. In its ‘New Security Concept’, the organisation has emphasised economic security along with its aim of regional stability. In order to better achieve economic security, the organisation stresses “enhanced interaction” between its members.[24] In the face of future crises, this ‘enhanced interaction’ will “…[a)] allow ASEAN to respond to the increasing interdependence faced by the region [and, b)] confront new security threats such as economic disruption.”[25]

Most importantly, the new concept of ‘enhanced interaction’ treads the line between ASEAN’s previous insistence on sovereign equality and non-interference and a new need for the organisation’s members to be mindful of each other’s economic stability (since a sudden internal financial crisis in one member could affect the economies of the other members).

The SCO, like ASEAN, maintains that its goals are to promote trust, friendship, and cooperation while encouraging cooperation aimed at achieving economic growth and stability among its member states. Moreover, just as ASEAN credits its success to its unique ‘ASEAN Way’, the SCO talks of its ‘Shanghai Spirit’ based on similar principles.[26] The parallels in purported aims are not surprising given that both Russia and Chinas form integral parts of the SCO and are active in the ARFT. Dmitry Kosyrev, a political commentator for the Moscow-based RIA Novosti, insists that, although ASEAN and the SCO are different organisations, their underlying aims are similar.[27] He explains that both insist that regional solutions, based on regional identities and experiences, are the most effective means of addressing regional issues.

Another second major similarity between ASEAN and the SCO is that the latter relies on persuasive consensus-building and has channelled efforts to achieve its aims by taking advantage of its members’ shared norms, interests, and outlooks. Qingguo Jia, a professor and dean at the School of International Studies of Peking University, explained in a report that the Shanghai Five (and its successor) was successful in achieving its three major above-mentioned goals due to the fact that its organisation was based on mutual interests, shared norms, and a realistic and gradualist approach to accomplishing its aims.[28]

Shanghai Cooperation Organisation: Its aims and perspectives

In 1997, Russia and China, along with the other three ‘Shanghai Five’s states, delineated and demilitarised their mutual borders.[29] Four years later, as the grouping of five (in addition to Uzbekistan) began cooperating more closely on issues of security and trade and the SCOX replaced the Shanghai Five.[30]

The SCO’s initial objectives included settling outstanding territorial disputes, guaranteeing territorial integrity, cooperating on the extradition of ‘terrorists’, and, collaborating on trade and security matters. In his article entitled “The SCO and the Shanghai Spirit” Dr. Pan Guang explains that organisation has evolved from its beginnings as merely a forum for Sino-Russian rapprochement to an important organisation for Chinese power, Central Asian stability, and general regional security.[31] Analysts, like Pan Guang, have argued that the organisation has largely transformed itself from a primarily defensive institution, whose first goal was to diffuse any potential tensions between Beijing and Moscow, to an organisation with a greater emphasis on trade concerns, common security interests, and the dissemination of norms and values between its member states. As such, the organisation’s major present objectives include combating terrorism and “jointly [searching] for solutions to the problems that would arise in the 21st century.”[32]

The SCO’s new direction has alarmed a number of strategists in Washington. Such alarmists point to increasingly cooperative relations between Moscow and Beijing (along with limited involvement of Islamabad, New Delhi, and Tehran) as a sign of an emerging anti-Western bloc – dubbed the ‘World Without the West’ (WWW).[33] The fact that the SCO comprises four nuclear powers and a nuclear aspirant serves as evidence for alarmists in Washington and London.

More moderate alarmists point out that, although a Eurasian NATO-esque security alliance is observable, it is NATO’s expansion that is pushing Russia into China’s arms and is transforming the SCO into a counterweight to NATO’s power. In an article entitled “Courting Disaster: An Expanded NATO vs. Russia and China”[34], Bruce Russett and Allan Stam criticise NATO’s policy of expansion into areas once in the orbit of Soviet influence.[35]

Both moderate and zealous alarmist rhetoric may seem delusionary. Nonetheless, their ideas draw from Kenneth Waltz’s realist explanation of NATO’s true objective.
[The] point of extending NATO eastward [is] not to save money by reducing transaction costs but to expand the reach of America; …[therefore, the] explanation of NATO’s expansion is not found in NATO as an institution but in America’s power and purpose.”[36]
As a result, Waltz argues that “…interdependence [has been] an idea used by Americans to camouflage the great leverage that the United States enjoys in international politics by making it seems that strong and weak, rich and poor nations are similarly entangled in a thick web of interdependence.”[37]

Although it is plausible that the SCO has been supported by the Kremlin in order to provide itself with a Eurasian bulwark against NATO encroachment, it is highly unlikely that the organisation is as Russett and Stam suggest. Yu Bin, a senior fellow for the Shanghai Institute of American Studies and political science professor at Wittenberg University, maintains that claims that military ties between China and Russia – aimed at challenging American hegemony – are strengthening is somewhat misguided. He asserts that suggestions that “Moscow and Beijing are not merely creating their own ‘space,’ separate from that of the West, but are poised to shape this regional security group into a military alliance... [are] rash.”[38]

His rejection of claims that the SCO is growing in power and threatens NATO is centred on the reality that the organisation comprises members with dissimilar religious backgrounds, varying levels of development, and unlike political systems. In addition to religious and political issues, increased collaboration may be hampered by the spread of strong nationalist sentiment in both Russia and China. The Chinese public demonstrated its rising nationalist fervour as anti-West and anti-Tibet protests swept the country earlier this year.[39] Similarly, Russia has a significant and growing ultranationalist population that tends to see China as a threat rather than an ally.

What's more, China and Russia have distinct core interests that result in their not seeing eye-to-eye on the future path of the SCO. China is interested in using its burgeoning relationship with vital Central Asian allies to gain access to crucial hydrocarbon reserves and potential markets for its products.[40] Russia, on the other hand, is more interested in security-based relationship that will allow it to stand firm against, what it perceives to be, NATO’s eastward march.41 Religious and political conditions, in addition to divergent geostrategic interests, hamper the SCO’s aim to construct a strong regional identity.

Nevertheless, there is hope for the development of an identity-based organisation. For, in order to maintain the SCO alive, China must work to “…[preserve] and [promote] Russia’s credentials as a co-leader in the organization, presenting it (whether correctly or not) as playing a role on a par with China’s in defining the SCO’s mission and goals.”[42] This necessary Chinese support of the Kremlin may cause their relationship in the SCO to evolve from that of temporarily allied and self-interested states to states involved in a collective partnership that produces a common institutional identity. Although Wendt contrasts the neo-realist to the constructivist regional institutional framework, he stresses that a recalibration of identity can lead to a shift from the neo-realist to the constructivist construct.[43]

In fact, the transition from a neo-realist to constructivist institution, or vice-versa, does not have to be uni-directional. A regional institution can include both a neo-realist temporary alliance construct and work towards developing a common identity among its members with the aim of strengthening a mutually self-interested security alliance. Guang suggests that the SCO exhibits traces of both a collective partnership and a security alliance. He explains that the “… maintenance of regional security and stability is both a precondition and a guarantee for the facilitation of regional economic and cultural cooperation, while economic and cultural cooperation can, in turn, provide a solid basis for political and security cooperation.”[44]

Verdict

Despite the SCOs interest in spurning regional economic development while working to halt the spread of forces that may undermine its members’ governments, its members do not yet share a common identity or a clear set of interests. This was confirmed by Russia’s recent recognition of Southern Ossetia and Abkhazia as independent states. China is troubled by Russia’s recognition of the two break-away Georgian enclaves as it continues to struggle to quell separatist movements in Xianjiang Province and in Tibet.[45] What’s more, the other SCO members do not all consider non-regional powers to be detrimental to regional interests. Kyrgyzstan’s President Kurmanbek Bakiev has repeatedly called for the SCO to increase its cooperation with the EU and other "European structures”[46] – a far cry from the unified regionalist view that Kosyrev refers to in his op-ed.

The organisation functions as a loose alliance in the sense that its founding documents clearly state that all its members must not infringe on each other’s sovereign integrity. Such an underlying concept seems to prove what realists have said about international institutions – that they can’t “…grow to exert sustainable policy-making pressure and exhibit systematic effects on nation states.”[4]7 As a result, Alexander Siedschlag insists that stressing sovereignty limits the integration and cohesive potential of a regional or international organisation.

Furthermore, Federico Bordanaro explains that truly collective regional relations – perhaps more akin to those exhibited by ASEAN’s members – are made difficult due to the fact that the region holds vast hydrocarbon resources that are coveted by its major powers. He states that in “...Central Asia, we are witnessing a zero-sum game because if the resources will flow toward China, they won’t flow toward Russia and Europe”[48] For this reason, he predicts that truly transparent cooperation between Moscow and Beijing will become increasingly difficult as China’s economy demands more energy resources and Russia’s struggles to increase its gas supplies to Europe.

Nonetheless, simply because the SCO has not more closely mirrored ASEAN, does not mean that identity formation will not produce a transparent collective stability and security organisation that serves to enshrine its ‘Shanghai Spirit’ identity on all of its members. Although the SCO more closely resembles the self-interested power politics that may be evident in NATO, it is not condemned to remain a security alliance with neo-realist assumptions. Perhaps, following the recent fissure that emerged between the two, Russia and China will work to better integrate interests and values.

Regardless, the SCO should be supported by both NATO and ASEAN as it will increasingly serve to temper antagonistic Russian policies and encourage Chinese regional helmsman-ship. While the Kremlin seeks to solidify its security arrangements with Beijing, the West should work to strengthen its economic and diplomatic ties with China. Beijing has long come in from the cold and does not seek to upset the burgeoning economic and diplomatic relationship that it is developing on the international stage. The SCO should be seen as a useful partner that will eventually integrate the economies and values of its members rather than a sign of a growing anti-West block.

___________
[1] Daniel Schearf, “China Expresses Concern about Russia’s Stance on Georgian Relations,” Voice of America online, 28 August 2008, http://www.globalsecurity.org/military/library/news/2008/08/mil-080828-voa02.htm [viewed 29/08/08].
[2] __, “The North Atlantic Treaty: Washington DC – 4 April 1949,” NATO website, updated 29 November 2007, http://www.nato.int/docu/basictxt/treaty.htm [viewed 22/08/08].
[3] Kenneth N. Waltz, “Structural Realism after the Cold War,” International Security, Vol. 25, No. 1 (Summer, 2000): 18.
[4] John J. Mearsheimer, “The Future of the American Pacifier,” Foreign Affairs, Vol. 80, No. 5 (September/October 2001): 47.
[5] John J. Mearsheimer, “The False Promise of International Institutions,” International Security, Vol. 19, No. 3 (Winter, 1994-1995): 15.
[6] Alexander Wendt, “Collective Identity Formation and the International State,” The American Political Science Review, Vol. 88, No. 2 (Jun., 1994): 386.
[7] Amitav Acharya, “How Ideas Spread: Whose Norms Matter? Norm Localization and Institutional Change in Asian Regionalism,” International Organization, Vol. 58, No. 2 (Spring, 2004): 239.
[8] __, “The Atlantic Charter – 14 August 1941,” NATO website, updated 10 April 2000, http://www.nato.int/docu/basictxt/b410814a.htm [viewed 22/08/08].
[9] Ibid.
[10] Herman Beukema, “The Military Organization of the Free World,” Proceedings of the Academy of Political Science, Vol. 24, No. 2, The Defense of the Free World (Jan., 1951): 7.
[11] __, “The North Atlantic Treaty: Washington DC – 4 April 1949,” NATO website.
[12] Anne-Else Højberg, “The European Security Structure: A Plethora of Organizations?,” NATO Review online, Web Edition, No. 6, Vol. 43(Nov., 1995): 30-35, http://www.nato.int/docu/review/1995/9506-7.htm#s2 [viewed 04/09/08].
[13] James P. Warburg, “How Useful Is NATO?,” Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science, Vol. 330, Whither American Foreign Policy? (Jul., 1960): 138.
[14] Ibid., 133.
[15] Major C. A. McNerney, NATO: Anachronism or Answer – An Argument for Collective Self-Defense, Unpublished master's thesis, USMC Command and Staff College, United States Army, Conference Group 5, http://www.globalsecurity.org/military/library/report/1995/MCA.htm [viewed 04/09/08].
[16] Ibid., Part V.
[17] __, “Declaration on Establishment of Shanghai Cooperation Organisation,” the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation website, Archive 2001, http://www.sectsco.org/html/00088.html [viewed 31/08/08].
[18] Edward Lucas, The New Cold War: How the Kremlin Menaces Both Russia and the West (London, New York, Berlin: Bloomsbury Publishing, 2008), 265.
[19] __, “Overview: Association of Southeast Asian Nations,” Association of Southeast Asian Nations website, http://www.aseansec.org/64.htm [viewed 04/09/08].
[20] Ibid.
[21] Yongwook RYU, “The Asian Financial Crisis and ASEAN’S Concept of Security,” S. Rajaratnam School of International Studies (RSIS), Singapore, 2 January 2008, Working Paper, 6, http://se1.isn.ch/serviceengine/FileContent?serviceID=ISN&fileid=5067C927-E8B2-B373-0EAD-1397391461D3&lng=en [viewed 04/09/08].
[22] Shaun Narine, Explaining ASEAN: Regionalism in Southeast Asia (Boulder, CO: Lynne Rienner Publishers, 2002), 31.
[23] RYU, “The Asian Financial Crisis and ASEAN’S Concept of Security,” 8.
[24] Ibid., 7. Taken from: Jurgen Haacke, “The Concept of Flexible Engagement and the Practice of Enhanced Interaction,” Pacific Review, Vol. 12, No. 4 (1999): 584.
[25] Ibid.
[26] Matthew Oresman, “Catching the Shanghai Spirit,” Foreign Policy, No. 142 (May - June, 2004): 79.
[27] Dmitry Kosyrev, “ASEAN shows the way to SCO,” RIA Novosti online, 28 July 2008, http://en.rian.ru/analysis/20080728/115078932.html [viewed: 17/08/08].
[28] Qingguo Jia, “The Success of the Shanghai Five: Interest, Norms, and Pragmatism,” the Commonwealth Insitute website, Project on Defense Alternatives, http://www.comw.org/cmp/fulltext/0110jia.htm [viewed 04/09/08].
[29] Oresman, “Catching the Shanghai Spirit,” 78..
[30] Ibid.
[31] Ibid., 79.
[32] __, “Charter of Shanghai Cooperation Organisation,” the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation website, Archive 2002, http://www.sectsco.org/html/00096.html [viewed 31/08/08].
[33] Lucas, The New Cold War: How the Kremlin Menaces both Russia and the West, 265.
[34] Bruce Russett and Allan C. Stam, “Courting Disaster: An Expanded NATO vs. Russia and China,” Political Science Quarterly, Vol. 113, No. 3 (Autumn, 1998): 363.
[35] Ibid.
[36] Robert O. Keohane and Kenneth N. Waltz, “The Neorealist and His Critic,” International Security, Vol. 25, No. 3 (Winter, 2000-2001): 205.
[37] Waltz, “Structural Realism after the Cold War,” 16. Taken from: Kenneth N. Waltz, “The Myth of National Interdependence,” in Charles P. Kindleberger, ed., The International Corporation (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 1970).
[38] Yu Bin, “Crouching Alliance, Hidden Angst?” YaleGlobal Online, 10 October 2007, found at: http://yaleglobal.yale.edu/article.print?id=9793 [viewed 21/05/08].
[39] __, “Angry China,” The Economist Print Edition online, 1 May 2008, http://www.economist.com/opinion/displaystory.cfm?story_id=11293645 [viewed 05/05/08].
[40] Mark Leonard, What Does China think? (London: Fourth Estate, 2008), 101.
[41] Ibid.
[42] Mikhail Troitskiy, “A Russian Perspective on the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation,” in The Shanghai Cooperation Organization - SIPRI Policy Paper No. 17, ed. Alyson J. K. Bailes, Pál Dunay, Pan Guang, and Mikhail Troitskiy, Stockholm International Peace Research Institute (SIPRI) (Sweden: CM Gruppen Bromma, 2007) , 31.
[43] Alexander Wendt, “Collective Identity Formation and the International State,” The American Political Science Review, Vol. 88, No. 2 (Jun., 1994): 387.
[44] Pan Guang, “A Chinese perspective on the Shanghai Cooperation Organization,” in The Shanghai Cooperation Organization - SIPRI Policy Paper No. 17, ed. Alyson J. K. Bailes, Pál Dunay, Pan Guang, and Mikhail Troitskiy, Stockholm International Peace Research Institute (SIPRI) (Sweden: CM Gruppen Bromma, 2007) , 58.
[45] __, “After Georgia: Europe stands up to Russia,” The Economist Print Edition online, 4 September 2008, http://www.economist.com/opinion/displaystory.cfm?story_id=12060201 [viewed 06/09/08].
[46] Farangis Najibullah, “SCO Fails To Back Russia Over Georgia,” Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty, 28 August 2008, http://www.globalsecurity.org/military/library/news/2008/08/mil-080828-rferl03.htm [viewed 29/08/08].
[47] Alexander Siedschlag, “Neorealist contributions to a theory of ESDP,” Presentation at the II. European Security Conference Innsbruck, Panel on Contemporary Analytical Approaches to European Security and Effective Multilateralism, 30 September 2006, European Security Conference Initiative website, 3. http://www.esci.at/papers/NR-ESDP.pdf [viewed 31/08/08].
[48] Brian Whitmore, “Central Asia: Behind The Hype, Russia And China Vie For Region’s Energy Resources,” Radio Free Europe, 22 March, 2008, http://www.netnewspublisher.com/behind-the-hype-russia-and-china-vie-for-region-energy-resources/ [viewed 24/04/08].

The Shanghai Cooperation Organization and the Georgian Crisis

2008-09-04T04:40:00.000-07:00

- by Stephen Blank. Taken from China Brief, September 3, 2008.

[Stephen Blank is a professor at the Strategic Studies Institute of the U.S. Army War College at Carlisle Barracks, PA]

_________

The Russian invasion, occupation, and dismemberment of Georgia represent the greatest challenge if not crisis to confront the Shanghai Cooperation Organization (SCO). In American commentary on the SCO there has been a consistent tendency to view it as essentially or even merely an anti-American organization that Moscow and Beijing dominate for their own purposes. Admittedly Russo-Chinese relations are a pillar of the SCO but neither is it primarily or exclusively an anti-American organization even if it has been used to attack U.S. policy in the past. As the recent SCO summit on August 28 revealed in Dushanbe, its members regard it primarily as a vehicle for regional security in Central Asia, a region of increasing importance in world affairs and one of vital security interest to Russia, China, the smaller Central Asian members, and even possibly the observers: India, Pakistan, Iran, and Mongolia.

Thus, Russian President Dmitry Medvedev's failure to get the SCO to proffer its unconditional support for Moscow can be seen as an important development in both regional and global affairs. Certainly the SCO’s refusal to support the dismemberment of a sovereign Georgia and the ensuing independence of South Ossetia and Abkhazia contradicted Russian expectations. Perhaps more importantly, this refusal also showed the limits to Russo-Chinese partnership, which, though robust, is not by any means an alliance [1]. Indeed, the SCO’s unity, no matter how fragile it might be, is the only sign of organized resistance to Russia's military intervention in Georgia. Even though China opposed moving the 2014 Olympics from Sochi and thus signaled a grudging acceptance of the Russian military operation, its refusal to accept and support the ensuing political reorganization of the Caucasus represents a rebuff to Russian expectations. But there were signs in the wind that this kind of reply to Russia might be in the offing.

Kyrgyzstan, president of the Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS), and Kazakhstan both refused to support the Russian military operation before the SCO summit. Instead they either maintained an ambivalent silence or called for negotiations. China’s Prime Minister, Wen Jiabao called on both sides to exercise restraint that the Foreign Ministry began at the conflict's outset and continued right up to the summit’s eve by expressing "concern," or even "serious concern" about the costs of fighting [2]. This is not to deny that China is happy to see the deterioration of Russo-American relations, but it probably does not want those relations to reach an impasse and erupt a new Cold War, which Moscow appears intent on inciting. At the same time this deterioration in Russo-American ties has in the past invariably strengthened U.S.-China ties, a development Beijing can only welcome since economic ties grow and pressure on Chinese domestic policies declines, especially if Russia is going to conduct unilateral policies that are inimical to Chinese interests [3]. China may also benefit as well if prospects for a trans-Caspian pipeline or the Nabucco pipeline to Europe disintegrate in the wake of this invasion, leaving China as the only currently standing customer for Central Asian oil and gas other than Russia. Then China might stand to increase its ability to obtain more energy from Central Asia.

However, there are compelling reasons for both China and Central Asian governments to refrain from supporting the dismemberment of Georgia and the recognition of South Ossetia and Abkhazia as independent states. This invasion coincided not only with the Olympics but also with a renewed upsurge in low-level violence in Xinjiang indicating that this province is by no means calm. Indeed, Xinjiang’s Party Secretary Wang Lequan warned on August 12 of a life and death struggle with terrorism. Thus unrest in Xinjiang (as well as Tibet) along with foreign demands for alteration of the form of government there and Beijing’s policies will undoubtedly continue for a long time. It has long been true that the external reaction to the unrest in Tibet and Xinjiang as well as to Taiwan’s anomalous situation have heightened China’s sensitivity to the issues of its territorial integrity and secessionism. It should not be forgotten that one of the three evils for which members of the SCO are obliged to cooperate is secessionism and terrorism. The third, religious extremism can also plausibly be invoked by China as a response to the unrest in Xinjiang. Since it responds to this pressure by strongly asserting that its integrity is not open to question by anyone and that all three provinces’ issues are exclusively China’s internal affair, any forcible attempt to redraw a state’s boundaries on the grounds of coming to the assistance of oppressed ethnic or religious minorities triggers a very reserved, if not negative Chinese response. Clearly Beijing worries that such activities, e.g. Russia’s unilateral recognition of Abkhazia’s and South Ossetia’s independence will constitute precedents that can then be used to pressure it or even attack it in order to force it to yield sovereignty in Xinjiang, Tibet, or Taiwan. This is a major reason why it adopted so reserved an attitude toward the Russian war in Georgia even before the SCO summit on August 28 that failed to recognize Abkhazian and South Ossetian independence and why that summit failed to support Russia’s actions

Moreover, it is likely that the simultaneous occurrence of this upsurge in violence with the Georgian crisis will intensify both Chinese and Central Asian resistance to Russian claims that it has the right to intervene, even with force, on behalf of its supposed citizens who are being oppressed in Central Asian states. Central Asian governments all have minority and border issues that can be used to create a pretext for intervention along the lines of Russia’s action and in many of those cases the minority population in question is the Russian population that immigrated there in Soviet and Tsarist times and is now being subjected to increasingly strong state pressures for assimilation or to leave and surrender their social and economic elite positions in Central Asia. Therefore all those states are acutely sensitive to the claims made by Russia in this crisis. Moscow’s new overt claim to a sphere of influence in Central Asia and of the concurrent and concomitant right to undertake such intervention to defend its “citizens” from discriminatory policies unilaterally under Article 51 of the UN Charter (the clause pertaining to self-defense of states and their legitimate right to defend themselves against attack) can only unsettle states who resist the doctrine of such intervention which they see as a landmine placed underneath their sovereignty, territorial integrity, and independence. While Central Asian states clearly depend on Moscow and solicit its attention and material assistance; they cannot associate themselves with its unilateral pretensions to a right to undermine their sovereignty and integrity whenever it chooses to do so.

At the same time neither can China support a doctrine of intervention and of unilateral rearranging of sovereign states’ territories on the grounds of the mistreatment of ethnic or religious minorities for similar reasons. Though China has long maintained that how it treats its Muslim minorities is strictly an internal affair that admits no foreign interest, in fact this is no longer the case. Xinjiang and its implications have for some time been a driver of foreign policy and influenced by the latter’s requirements. The intersection of this new violence with the Georgian crisis can only sharpen the contradictions in China’s policy and in its relations with Russia in Central Asia. And in time, it may turn out to be the case that another of the casualties of the Russian invasion of Georgia is the SCO’s drive toward genuine cohesion and unity of purpose.

______________

[This article is found at: China Brief - Jamestown Publication, Vol. 8, Issue 17 (September 3, 2008), http://www.jamestown.org/china_brief/article.php?articleid=2374390.]

______________

Notes

1. Stephen Blank, “Moscow’s Strategic Triangle In a time of Transition,” Journal of East Asian Studies, XXI, NO. 1 (Spring-Summer, 2008): 99-144; Richard Weitz, China-Russia Security Relations: Strategic Parallelism Without Partnership Or Passion, Carlisle Barracks, PA: Strategic Studies Institute, US Army War College, 2008.
2. Open source Committee, OSC Analysis, “China—Beijing Projects Balance on Russia-Georgia conflict,” Open Source Committee, Foreign Broadcast Information Service Central Eurasia, (Henceforth FBIS SOV), August 12, 2008; Gregory L. White Andrew Higgins, Andrew Osborn, “China’s Unease With Russian Actions Strains Ties,” Wall Street Journal, August 28, 2008, 8.
3. Hong Kong, Ming Pao online in Chinese, FBIS SOV, August 20, 2008.
4. Michael Richardson, “Diversion Ahead,” South China Morning Post online, August 25, 2008.
5. Lindsay Beck, “China Warns Of 'Life and Death' Battle With Terror,” Reuters, August 13, 2008.

Is ‘transnational security’ a human security issue?

2008-09-02T18:22:00.000-07:00

-Written by AJ Reibel, MIR program, New Zealand

Transnational security is an issue directly linked to human security. Although state-makers often identify external threats as imminent hazards to their respective state structure, at the most basic level state security is about the security of the state’s inhabitants. Although nuclear proliferation, transnational organised crime syndicates, drug trafficking cartels, human traffickers, terrorist organisations with cells embedded throughout the world’s capitals, environmental degradation, and the spread of infectious diseases are all major threats to both state structures and to the inhabitants of states, policy-makers often neglect to consider that the root causes of the threats that they prepare for are, in fact, the underlying threats that imperil human populations across the globe.

Tragically, trans-border threats that pose a menace to the greatest amount of human life within state borders are not seen as security concerns and instead as developmental issues. Economic marginalisation, the stark poverty that such marginalisation spurns, and the globe’s worsening problem of overpopulation all contribute to the creation of many of the transnational threats identified by policymakers – drug trafficking, human trafficking[1], the spread of organised crime and gang syndicates, environmental degradation, weapons proliferation, and infectious epidemics. The underlying factor that allows for the emergence of such transnational threats is the overriding pressure on human inhabitants (regardless of their home state).

The idea that the globe is rapidly reaching (or has already done so) a point where it cannot sustain the number of humans that inhabit its arable swathes and temperate zones has been proposed by numerous scientists and social scientists at a number of think-tanks and NGOs. The Corner House, a UK-based organisation that aims to work towards social and environmental justice programs, put out a study in which it referred to the earth’s “carrying capacity” and its relationship to humanitarian and social threats. The report stated that “…if ‘carrying capacity’ is exceeded… then population can be said to be "objectively" excessive relative to land, consumption and technology,”[2] thus resulting in incredible social pressure on humans living in resource poor or economically unsustainable regions.

The notion that the earth has a limited “carrying capacity” is problematic for economists and policymakers at leading neo-liberal institutions, such as the World Bank, and within the upper echelons of many Western states. If the theory that the earth has a limited “carrying capacity” gains acceptance, it will imperil the ‘modern’ economic model – built on the idea that production (and, thus development) can always expand and is, therefore, sustainable.

It is, perhaps, understandable that this theory has been dismissed by top-level policymakers despite evidence that shows that as the population keeps thundering along, poverty and world hunger also increase.
From 1950 to 1998 the world’s population doubled. It has grown a further 14 percent in the last ten years to 6.4 billion. The global population is on track to reach nine billion by 2050. This growth is coming disproportionately from the developing world.[3]
As the population increases, so too does the number of people living in conditions of extreme poverty – exacerbating the spread of communicable diseases, environmental degradation, and predation on vulnerable populations.

As rates of poverty increase in the developing world, human migratory flows threaten the stability of more economically successful states. The EU region has experienced an influx of illegal immigrants that is starting to alarm Italian, Spanish, German, and French policy makers as security strategists realise that they are losing control over destabilising forces within their borders. Police planners are asking themselves if, along with desperate people looking for jobs and a means to improve their livelihood, rogue elements such as terrorist cells, criminal and gang syndicates, and foreign espionage networks are infiltrating their societies.

In addition to the fact that overpopulation, poverty, and resulting uncontrollable migration may threaten the social fabric in developed countries, the multiplied effects of overpopulation and its resulting poverty also threaten fragile and dwindling ecosystems. Environmental degradation begins as a localised problem, however it has global effects as stocks of fish are depleted in the oceans, sea-levels rise and El Niño and other weather pattern shifts wreck havoc on states from South America, Oceania, South East Asia, to the Middle East.

Between young women and children being sold into slavery in Myanmar[4] and Nigeria[5], infants starving to death in Zimbabwe, communities facing the rocketing HIV infection rates across Russia and Central Asia, rising food prices, and the disappearance of fish stocks that once sustained the livelihoods of entire island populations, it becomes obvious that threats to human populations imperil more lives than the over-emphasised transnational threat of terrorism. States have more to fear from factors that undermine social stability and exacerbate human suffering, such as poverty (which fuelled ethnic conflict in Kenya in February, 2008 and in South Africa more recently in 2008), than from drug trafficking and terrorism. As such, transnational security is, first and foremost, a human security issue.

____________

1 The trafficking of women and girls in Nigeria and other African states (for use as domestic workers, the global sex-industry, and for the harvesting of human organs), Russia and former Soviet-states (for the global sex-industry), and in East Asia (for industrial and commercial labour and for the global sex-industry) has often been overlooked by state development agencies.

2 Nicholas Hildyard, Sarah Sexton and Larry Lohmann, “‘Carrying Capacity’, ‘Overpopulation’ and Environmental Degradation,” The Corner House, 1993, http://www.thecornerhouse.org.uk/item.shtml?x=52014#index-01-00-00-00 [viewed 12/08/08].

3 Susan E. Rice, “The Threat of Global Poverty,” The National Interest (Spring, 2003): 80, Taken from: http://www.brookings.edu/articles/2006/spring_globaleconomics_rice.aspx [viewed 12/08/08].

4 Alex Perry, “Cover Story: The Shame,” Child Slavery, TIMEasia.com, 2006, http://www.time.com/time/asia/features/slavery/cover.html [viewed 12/08/08].

5 __, “Human Trafficking: Female Trafficking Widespread in Nigeria,” Transnational Threats Update, CSIS – Center for Strategic and International Studies, Vol. 6, No. 7 (July, 2008): 6, http://www.csis.org/media/csis/pubs/ttu_0607.pdf [viewed 12/08/08].

What Does China Have To Do With Environmental Security?

2008-08-28T19:53:00.000-07:00

-Written by AJ Reibel, MIR program, New Zealand

Environmental security is a highly malleable term that has been used to describe a variety of threats, some of them to man and others to the flora and fauna of a specific region. At first glance environmental security describes a threat to the survival of the ecological environment, an amorphous arena consisting of the animals, plants, insects, bacteria, and non-living organic objects that surround us. Some science-fiction writers, with a little inspiration from astronomers and physicists, have also introduced the idea of an extra-terrestrial threat to the planet, often depicted as the ‘doomsday comet’. However, this glancing definition of environment is too limited in scope as the term includes ecological factors amongst others.

To policymakers, environmental security refers to a long-term threat or danger posed to a state’s human environs. As a result, environmental security is directly tied to human security, and encompasses the following: the health of the flora and fauna in an area of human habitation; the social fabric of a community, nation, or state; the economic livelihood of a collective group of people; people’s access to clean drinking water and food; and the general ability to sustain a human population in a specific location. Certain places on earth do not naturally offer some of the above-listed characteristics and can be described as environmentally insecure. Antarctica, the Utah Salt Flats, and deep-sea locations come to mind.

Although statesmen and policymakers think primarily of the implications of an unfit environment for humans, they focus largely on their state’s citizens. When they seek ways to safeguard against environmental factors that may inhibit human occupation, their citizen-centric idea of environment is rather limiting.

The idea of environment is a self-interested one that includes traces of neo-realist philosophical influences. In the neo-realist framework, a state concerned with maximising its power with respect to that of its neighbours desires a safe internal and peripheral environment that will give it an advantage over a rival. The United States may rest easy that despite ecological disasters, such as the Exxon Valdez oil spill and the fiasco at Love Canal, it is not haunted by the fallout of Chernobyl. Washington is also likely to be confident that although its industries emit carbon-monoxide and dioxide, they do not risk poisoning the American population as much as China’s industry threatens the health of its public. It is for this reason that academics and policymakers, such as Lester Brown, have sought to redefine “…national security in order to incorporate environmental [and, more specifically, ecological] concerns.”[1]

In an increasingly interconnected world the ecological environment, the health of countries’ populations, and the physical and material security of states’ inhabitants should eclipse ‘traditional’ threats. Western state policymakers classically downgrade the importance of the three aforementioned threats and entrust select institutional or professional groupings with recommending security solutions. Instead, Western security strategists have typically focused on traditional threats. China, however, has taken a different security approach by establishing a broad security framework – the New Security Concept[2]. Chinese security strategists, such as Yan Xuetong, have identified terrorism, secessionism, environmental destruction, and pandemics as key risks.

In the Western mind-set, however, ecological degradation has been thought of as an issue for the scientific community; the existence of abject poverty and the spread of disease to altruistic NGOs; and, crime and lawlessness to internal policing organisations.[3] Unfortunately, as transmigration becomes easier, the global state of ecology deteriorates, and the world’s population soars, non-traditional security threats loom ever more dangerous.

The cost to human life and lost economic productivity is threatened more by non-traditional environmental threats than by ‘international security’ threats. The WHO estimated that the Avian Flu could kill between 2 and 7.9 million people around the world[4] – possibly more deaths than suffered by the Vietnamese populace during the French and, later, American-led wars. Between 2002 and 2003, the SARS epidemic cost the economies of the affected countries roughly $30 billion[5]; economists predict that this is roughly equivalent to the amount that the US can expect to spend on after-service care for its Iraq War veterans.[6]

In addition to the high cost of epidemics, economic marginalisation and competition for scarce resources pose a more immediate danger to international security. Wars are fought over precious natural resources – including timber, minerals, and hydrocarbons – in some of the most remote corners of the world. The DRC is an example of a country wracked by a prolonged civil war, largely fed by a volatile mix of poverty and the soaring demand for resources.

In actuality, environmental security can be synonymous with ‘human security’. Menaces to the human environs are often man-made and endanger many more human lives than neo-realist state-system threats, and jeopardise the popular liberal economic model. The idea that an economy will continually grow is an unsustainable concept. Ironically, development economists use ‘sustainable development’ to promote the idea of economic growth that will benefit a population and its natural environment. Unfortunately, a key law of nature is the idea of a ceiling beyond which growth is unsustainable.

The Corner House, a UK-based organisation that organises social and environmental justice programs, put out a study in which it referred to the earth’s “carrying capacity” and its relationship to humanitarian and social threats. The report stated that “…if ‘carrying capacity’ is exceeded… then population can be said to be "objectively" excessive relative to land, consumption and technology,”[7] thereby limiting population growth. If population growth is limited, given the finite nature of earth’s resources, then there is also a limit to states’ economic growth.

Since the idea of limits poses a real challenge to the present economic, social, and security models, environmental security may require the creation of a new IR framework. A more relevant theory must downplay the state-centric system and recognise transnational threats and trends, while also incorporating neo-realism’s emphasis on international anarchy and self-help. In his article, entitled “Ecological Metaphors of Security: World Politics in the Biosphere,” Simon Dalby presents a possible fourth IR debate.[8] This one, he claims, will be centred on security and the environment, and challenges the present International Security paradigm.

Although Dalby concentrates on the ecological component of environmental security, he does point to the transnational nature of threats. He refers to the exportation of ecological threats from the developed world to developing states, and sites Madhav Gadgil’s explanation of “resource exploitation activities and… waste disposal concerns.”[9] Dalby explains that technology sold to consumers in the developed world is made from natural resources extracted from developing states.[10] During the extraction and production process, the under-developed world suffers immense social and ecological exploitation. When the products outlive their usefulness in the developed world, they often return to the developing world as waste – again imperilling the environment in developing states. For this reason, he states that one of the major considerations of the new debate is how “…environmental politics [are based on] the ‘siting decisions’ of global resource flows and industrial production.”[11]

What is clear from the emerging idea of environmental security is that it is intertwined with human security and transnational trade concerns. Despite having major political implications, threats to the physical environs are largely objective and should be tackled through depoliticised means. This broad ‘human security’ IR construct will likely mirror China’s paradigm-altering security and economic policy in the sense that it will stress the need for multilateral cooperation in the face of transnational threats, but still emphasise Westphalian sovereignty.[12]

____________
1 Paul Trenell, “The (Im)possibility of ‘Environmental Security’,” University of Wales, 2006, part 1.1, 11.
2 Mark Leonard, What Does China Think? (London: Fourth Estate, 2008), 100.
3 Susan E. Rice, “The Threat of Global Poverty,” The National Interest (Spring, 2006): 79.
4 Ibid., 80.
5 Ibid.
6 Jamie Wilson, “Iraq War Could Cost US Over $2 trillion, Says Nobel Prize-Winning Economist,” The Guardian UK online, January 7, 2006, http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2006/jan/07/usa.iraq [viewed 26/08/08].
7 Nicholas Hildyard, Sarah Sexton and Larry Lohmann, “‘Carrying Capacity’, ‘Overpopulation’ and Environmental Degradation,” The Corner House, 1993, http://www.thecornerhouse.org.uk/item.shtml?x=52014#index-01-00-00-00 [viewed 12/08/08].
8 Simon Dalby, “Ecological Metaphors of Security; World Politics in the Biosphere,” Alternatives, Vol. 23, No. 3 (1998).
9 Ibid.
10 Ibid.
11 Ibid.
12 Idea of a Chinese-directed paradigm shift comes from: Leonard, What Does China Think?, 117.

Why do Muslims Hate the West?

2008-08-10T04:52:00.000-07:00

-Written by AJ Reibel, MIR program, New Zealand

In his address to a joint session of Congress on the evening of September 20, 2001 – 9 days after the surprise terrorist strikes against the Twin Towers of the World Trade Centre in New York City – President George W. Bush asked America “...why they hate us.”[1] He answered his rhetorical question, or, more specifically, his anacoenosis[2], with the explanation that the terrorists who struck the nerve-centre of America’s commercial capital hate not only the democratic governmental system, but the freedoms that Americans enjoy.[3] Is it true then that the people who attacked America – all of them Muslims – hated what America stands for? Can this question be broadly expanded to an examination of why Muslims might hate the United States, and, more importantly, Western civilization?

The second question posed above is simply a speculative one. It is fundamentally wrong to think that Muslims, as a whole nation, hate the West. Furthermore, to say that even some Muslims hate the West is also troubling as it presents the West as a monolithic amalgamation of identities, cultures, values, and economic systems comprising those of the United States, various European countries, Australia, New Zealand, and territorial[4] dependencies of the previously-mentioned states.

The idea that a wider Muslim nation, spanning the Asian, African, European, and North American continents, has a unified dislike for a particular cultural amalgamation (or, according to Huntington, ‘civilization’) is unreasonable and hugely simplistic. It is true that Muslims – whether they be Chinese Uighurs, Indonesian Acehnese, Iranian Persians, Turkish Kurds, Nigerian Hausas, or members of the Nation of Islam in the United States – consider both the Qur’an and the Sunnah to be their two sacred texts.[5] Nonetheless, as Ramadan points out, there are many differences between diverse Muslim peoples.

Broadly speaking, Shiites see themselves as fundamentally different from Sunnis. Kurds maintain an identity different to that of Turkic, Allawite, and Druze Muslims. Literalist interpreters of Islam hold different views from those held by mystical interpreters[6]. Despite the fact that there are clear differences between Muslim communities and peoples, American political theorists and IR scholars have repeatedly made broad assumptions and consigned various cultures and nations to reductionist categories.

Samuel P. Huntington’s controversial “The Clash of Civilizations” espouses a reductionist ethno-centric world view. This fear-mongering is not new. Bartolus de Sassoferrato, a 14th Century jurist, set a precedent for such divisive IR philosophy when he “...divided the world into five classes – [the Roman Catholic world] and four classes of [foreign people made up of] the Turks, the Jews, the Greeks, and the Saracens."[7]

Similarly, Huntingon breaks the world into eight major civilizations and asserts that the new stage for international conflict will occur between civilizations and, in particular, Muslims against Westerners. He stresses a clash of values and morals that explain the attacks of 9-11 on the WTC and maintains that Islamic groups will continue to target Western capitals, transportation infrastructure, and citizens in an endless quest to defeat Western civilization.

Despite Huntington’s emphasis on a civilizational clash, in an interview with New Perspectives Quarterly, a journal of political and social thought, he admitted that one should not “...think in terms of two homogenous sides starkly confronting each other [because] Western countries [do] collaborate with Muslim countries and vice versa.”[8] In the interview, Huntington also explained that he did not see an emerging organisational bloc made-up of Muslim states and nations despite the existence of trans-Islamic political movements.[9]

While some of the trans-national and trans-Islamic political/ideological movements that Huntington vaguely referred to in his interview with NPQ, most likely including Al Qaeda and Hezbollah, openly target civilians and are indiscriminate in their use of violence, they also call for the removal of Western influence, and sometimes even troops, from the Middle East[10]. More specifically, these groups call for the removal of American influence from their states.

Scholars and journalists have attributed a strong measure of Muslim grassroots frustration and distrust of American influence to American policies in the Middle East. Although this explanation is easy to support with examples of hypocritical American foreign policy – such as the U.S. support for the economically and morally corrupt oil-producing states of Saudi Arabia and the UAE[11] – this grassroots Muslim frustration is not the reason that Al Qaeda targeted the WTC. Instead, it is a tool that Al Qaeda used in order to sell its policies to the down-trodden and idealistic masses in Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Pakistan, and within European Muslim enclaves. Hezbollah, the Al-Aqsa Martyr’s Brigade, and the previous GSPC[12] all employ the useful recruiting, fundraising, and attention-grabbing tool that stresses the ‘evil’ and hypocritical qualities of America, the leader of Western civilization.

As such, it is misleading and wrong (even if a distinction is made between ‘good’, pro-American, and ‘bad’, democracy-despising, Muslims) to claim, as many in the present American administration have done, that Muslims hate democratically-inclined and freedom-loving Americans/Europeans/Kiwis. The issue at hand is not whether Muslims inherently hate a foreign cultural amalgamation, but that many people in the states of the Middle East have been taught to hate Western imperialism in the form of cultural, economic, and political dominance.

Orphaned children in Karbala or Ramallah have been taught to hate Americans and Israelis because they have been told that they are responsible for the death of their parents, the destruction of their economic future, and the continuing insult to their religious beliefs posed by their material and decadent culture. According to Ian Burma, the Middle Eastern masses really grow to hate the effects of neo-liberalism on their societal conditions – exposed by crippling poverty, curtailed livelihoods, and social dislocation.[13]

Unfortunately extremist leaders employ ideological arguments for why ideologies and specific nations represent a dire threat to their audience’s existence. This type of ideological and cultural flame-fanning is extremely dangerous – as shown by both the actions of a few politically and ideologically indoctrinated individuals who targeted downtown Manhattan on 9-11 and the reactive threat-creation exhibited by the Bush administration and his advisors (including Huntington). Nonetheless, broad generalisations about civilizational conflict are more damaging than they are helpful in understanding the causes of conflict between the United States (and its allies) and disparate Muslim movements and networks spread throughout the Middle East, Africa, Europe, and Asia.

__________________

[1] Speech given by George W. Bush, 20/9/01, found at: __, “Address to a Joint Session of Congress and the American People,” The White House – President George W. Bush, Sept., 20th, 2001, http://www.whitehouse.gov/news/releases/2001/09/20010920-8.html [viewed 08/08/08].

[2] A rhetorical question aimed at endearing oneself to a particular audience.

[3] Ibid.

[4] By ‘depedant territories’ I refer to territories such as French Guiana, French Polynesia, the Falkland Islands, Diego Garcia, Ceuta, Melilla, Puerto Rico, the USVIs, Netherland Antilles, Guam, American Samoa, and Madeira (among others).

[5] Tariq Ramadan, “Islam Today: The Need to Explore Its Complexities,” Nieman Reports (Summer, 2007), http://www.tariqramadan.com/article.php3?id_article=1167&lang=en.

[6] Ibid.

[7] Elizabeth Shackman Hurd, “The Political Authority of Secularism in International Relations,” European Journal of International Relations, Vol. 10, No. 2 (2004): 250.

[8] Interview with Samuel P. Huntington, “The Clash of Civilizations Revisted,” New Perspectives Quarterly, Winter, 2007, http://www.digitalnpq.org/archive/2007_winter/14_huntington.html.

[9] Interview with Samuel P. Huntington, NPQ, 2007.

[10] Hezbollah asserts that one of its goals is to secure an “Islam [that] is...civilized... [and] rejects injustice, humiliation, slavery, subjugation , colonialism and blackmail...”. These altruistic and lofty goals seem completely devoid of the hatred and violence associated with Hezbollah’s targeting of civilians with Katyusha rockets launched from Lebanon. Taken from: “Statement of Purpose,” Hizbullah – Party of G-d, http://almashriq.hiof.no/lebanon/300/320/324/324.2/hizballah/statement01.html [viewed 08/08/08].

[11] Terrorist groups garner their support from projecting themselves as protectors of Muslim interests in the face of encroaching Western interests. It is in this way that the West – with an American, French, or Israeli face – has been seen, by people on the streets of Algiers, Beirut, and now Baghdad, as “standing behind [authoritarian governments whose policies often include] repression of Islamist parties.” Taken from: Elizabeth S. Hurd, “The Political Authority of Secularism in International Relations,” European Journal of International Relations, Vol.10, No.2 (2004): 239.

[12] The Groupe Salafiste pour la Predication et le Combat, now known as the Al-Qaeda Organization in the Islamic Maghreb has waged a war of insurgency against the Algerian government, which it sees as a French puppet.

[13] Ian Burma argues that Islamic movements are really fighting against modernity, individualism, urbanization, liberalism, and humanism. Taken from: Ervand Abrahamian, “The US Media, Huntington and September 11,” Third World Quarterly, Vol.24, No.3 (2003): 534.

Is International Law powerful?

2008-08-08T17:36:00.000-07:00

-Written by AJ Reibel, MIR program, New Zealand

The veto is like a fuse box in the electrical system of a house. Better that the fuse blows and the lights go out than that the house burns down.[1] - Joseph Nye

* * *

International law is a powerful force on the world stage. Strictly-speaking, international law is based on customary, or normative, precedents and conventional law (signed agreements between states).[2] Yet this overly legalistic and authoritative definition does not do justice to a highly varied system that is based on “… norms, values, and legal rules… [that] shap[e] both the ends to which… powerful [states] give priority and the means by which they choose to pursue them.”[3] International law has recently been discounted – by the present US administration – as an overly idealistic regime of rules. Despite harsh criticism from leading neo-conservative and hawkish realist policymakers in the present US administration, international law should be recognised as a crucial tool designed to win support both at the domestic and international levels and to maximise the effects of hard power.

The power of international law (IL) does not rest in the precepts of power as described by neo-realists. Instead the strength of IL lies along the lines of Joe Nye’s ‘soft power’ concept. As such, a country that aims to bolster its limited hard power projection with persuasive soft power may promote conventions and treaties that reflect its foreign policies, political ideas, and general values. States have used their support for normative agreements to undermine the credibility and support for other states. Denmark undercut European public support for many Muslim states and Islamic ‘resistance’ movements (such as Hezbollah and Hamas) when it allowed its publishing houses to print cartoons of the prophet Mohammed. The ensuing furore throughout several states demonstrated that various Muslim states and their populations do not embody the precepts of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights[4] - a regime that the same states signed onto.

Joe Nye asserts that soft power – based on the attractiveness of a country’s culture, political ideals, and policies[5] – is indeed a form of power that, if used effectively, can supplement a country’s overall ability to obtain desired outcomes.[6] In fact, the claim that soft power complements hard power rests simply on the fact that soft power persuades countries to accept the potential use of hard power by a powerful state actor. It is, therefore, vital that a state – interested in maximising its power and achieving desired results on the world stage – employ both hard and soft power in different amounts. As it is preferable to strike with tremendous force and moral weight than to act unilaterally, international law still remains a power multiplier. This is especially necessary in a world of illicit nuclear testing and proliferation of ballistic missile technology.

Unfortunately, some states have failed to understand the benefits that soft power and international law provide to an economically and militarily powerful state. The present American administration saw hard power as the only policy response to multiple terrorist attacks. Furthermore, by pursing an assertive and caustic policy, the Bush administration managed to marginalise some of its tentative allies (in addition to providing moral ammunition to its critics).

Had Nye’s explanation that hard military power is not suited to tackling varying transnational issues – such as international crime, infectious diseases, terrorism, and environmental concerns[7] – been taken into account during the lead-up to the 2003 Iraq invasion, perhaps the Bush administration would have managed to persuade the international community to share the burden of toppling Saddam and rebuilding Iraq. Instead the US worked to downgrade “...the legitimacy that comes from institutional processes in which other [states] are consulted... [thereby] squander[ing] soft power.”[8] Condelezza Rice pointed out that “America is a country that really does have to be committed to values... [and it’s] not just the sword, it’s the olive branch that speaks to those intentions.”[9]

Dr. Rice’s comments are diametrically opposed to the scathing and simplistic criticism of international normative regimes that Michael J. Glennon voices in his article, “Why the Security Council Failed.” Glennon concludes that the Security Council failed to confront Iraq and thus was shown to be outmoded and irrelevant. Unfortunately, Glennon’s overly legalistic and insular view reflects his neoconservative frustration with a regime founded with the main purpose to promote greater contact and interaction between great powers[10] - not necessarily to champion ideals or values.

The fact that the Security Council – one of the foremost symbols of international normative cooperation and dialogue – has brilliantly succeeded in avoiding “great-power war” has become an insufficient reason for the present American administration. This is especially curious considering that neoconservative policymakers remain convinced that the US should be the world’s moral champion while at the same time dismissing international conventional and behavioural norms. As the US seeks to right its ill-conceived foreign policy, its “...claim to be a beacon of freedom in a dark world has been dimmed by Guantánamo, Abu Ghraib and the flouting of the Geneva Conventions amid the panicky ‘unipolar’ posturing in the aftermath of September 11th.”[11]

Future US policymakers should not dismiss international law nor should they dismiss international regimes. Furthermore, state policymakers need to be aware of the true functions of the same regimes that their states worked so hard to establish several decades ago. As American soft power wanes and its hegemony is increasingly challenged, it will need to look to the Security Council in order to rally its influence and alliances to continue to dominate the international stage. Future American administrations should take to heart – and thus reconsider how to gain crucial influence on the world stage – the useful metaphor that Nye ascribes to the Security Council’s international legal weapon of choice – the veto.

______________
[1] Joseph S. Nye, Jr. “Soft Power and American Foreign Policy,” Political Science Quarterly, Vol. 119, No. 2 (2004): 269.

[2] “International Law,” Legal Information Institute, Cornell University Law School, http://topics.law.cornell.edu/wex/international_law [viewed: 27/07/08].

[3] Edward C. Luck, “The End of an Illusion,” in “Stayin’ Alive: The Rumors of the UN’s Death Have Been Exaggerated,” Foreign Affairs, Vol. 82, No. 4 (2003): 202.

[4] Article 19 of the UN Universal Declaration of Human Rights states that “… everyone has the right to freedom of opinion and expression; this includes the freedom to hold opinions without interference…” Taken from: “Universal of Human Rights: Preamble,” UN – 60th Anniversary: Universal Declaration of Human Rights, http://www.unhchr.ch/udhr/lang/eng.pdf [viewed: 27/07/08].

[5] Nye, “Soft Power and American Foreign Policy,” 256.

[6] Ibid., 257.

[7] Ibid., 263.

[8] Ibid., 266.

[9] Ibid., 268.

[10] Ian Hurd, “Too Legit to Quit,” in “Stayin’ Alive: The Rumors of the UN’s Death Have Been Exaggerated,” Foreign Affairs, Vol. 82, No. 4 (2003): 204.

[11] __, “Unhappy America,” The Economist, July 24th, 2008, http://www.economist.com/opinion/displayStory.cfm?Story_ID=11791539 [viewed 28/07/08].

INDIA: Partnership Under China's Dictation

2008-07-31T18:11:00.000-07:00

- Bhaskar Roy, China Analyst, Taken from South Asia Analyst Group paper.

India-China trade is trotting along merrily. From a bilateral trade volume of around US$200 – 250 million in the early 1990s, something of little consequence, it is now poised to reach $60 billion in 2010. The trade volume has grown higher than projected, with the two countries trying to break the label of “developing countries’ and arriving at the high table of G-8 nations as partners. China is knocking at the grand stand of the second biggest economic power in the world.

International trade is supposed to be driven by the market, but politics has always been involved to a much greater extent than is normally seen. Trading ships brought colonialization, imperialism and hegemonisim. The gunboats were always there to take over, to further accelerate trade, economic exploitation and territorial control.
Imperialism, today, is a worn out cliché. Hegemonism has been reinvented. It involves territory that a country can directly aggrandize and control, or nations that can be won over to act as per the directions of the executor or nations that can be over-awed by a combination of economic, political, diplomatic and military power and forced to fall in line. Such relations are generally one sided and dictated by an overall large and powerful country over smaller and weaker nations in the surrounding region.

In this context, and in the context of globalization and surging economies, a new term that is being bandied about for sometime now is “soft power”. Soft power is designated as economic power and cultural projections which supposedly win over people across continents without the use of force.

Two countries that are exampled as highly successful soft powers are Japan and Germany. Vibrant economics with state of the art civilian technology, their footprints are household names in most countries. Who has not heard of Sony and Toyota, or Mercedes-Benz and German lager!

But to say that both Japan and Germany developed into economic powers and seduced the world without massive military security, is like telling a child that nuclear technology produces candies. Germany was covered with the nuclear weapons power of NATO. Japan had total protection of US conventional and nuclear power. Both countries were quietly allowed to develop their own defence industries which are more powerful than many others, but not advertised.

China, with its huge economic growth, is trying to project itself as a soft and friendly power.

Hu Jintao, China’s President, Secretary General of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP), and Chairman of the country’s highest military body, the Central Military Commission (CMC), has created the soft power political ideology with his “harmonious development” and “harmonious relations” theories. This is actually one theory divided into two parts, for both internal and external use. Very briefly, the external impression is “do not disturb or oppose China in what it wants; or else, suffer the consequences”. It sounds somewhat like, “give unto Caeser what is Caeser’s” from Rome to Egypt!

Hu Jintao’s doctrine is not new. It is a further development of Mao Zedong’s new China’s single minded obsessive strategy to dominate Asia in its global ambition. The development took place in the series of the second generation leaders led by Deng Xiaoping and the third generation leaders headed by Jiang Zemin. Hu Jintao is the fourth generation leader of the People’s Republic of China (PRC), with Xi Jinping in the wings to take over the fifth generation leadership in 2011.

China suddenly seems to be in a hurry to consolidate its position in Asia and neighbouring regions. There could be several reasons for that.

One, of course, are the hawks who think the time in just right to stamp China’s faci on as much as the global territory as possible, especially from Africa to Oceania. More importantly, perhaps, is the concern about demographic changes, and supply of energy and raw materials. Both are dwindling for China as 2050 approaches. Hence, consolidation is most important. In the immediate context, economic growth rate and distribution of wealth inside the country has become very important. Growing inequalities are creating pockets of serious discontent. With it highly inefficient use of raw material and energy, there appears to be a desperate need to squash neighbouring competitors, secure the resource pockets outside the country as permanently as possible, and create a powerful Central Kingdom in Beijing with procurement of weak but resource rich supplicant nations to feed the “Son of Heaven”.

With its burgeoning population and shrinking domestic habitable and resourceful land area and water availability, the neighbouring nations must allow China to flourish if they do not want Chinese boat people to inundate them. Such massive Chinese migrations have happened before. South East Asia is a witness, where Chinese immigrants still committed to their motherland have taken over the economy and are poised to take over political leadership. Thai Prime Minister Samak Sundaravej, on the eve of his visit to China on June 30, told Chinese journalists he still practices his ancestral Chinese rituals and identified himself with his old country.

Serious differences exist between China and other south East Asia (SEA) countries like the Philippines, Indonesia, Brunei and Vietnam over the South China Sea sovereignty. This area is not only important for energy resources, but territorial expansion and control of vital sea lanes. China effectively used its military power to force these claimants to a joint development agreement on China’s formula.

China and Japan have recently come to an agreement over joint exploration of gas resources in one section of the East China Sea. China claims the entire East China Sea on the continental shelf arbitration. Japan, though claiming on the median line formula also accepted by the Laws of the Seas Convention, has compromised to an extent for the time being. This is unlikely to last, because bigger claims are involved including that over the Senkaku (Diaoyu) Islands.

Employing the strategy of using veiled threats and impositions, China has far long been extending its claims on the India-China border territories.

Both the Chinese and the Indians, leadership and people included, agree that the two countries today enjoy the best of relationship ever. Let us cut out the Chinese propaganda of two-thousand years of friendly relationship between the two countries as no such relationship in political terms existed in that period. Yet, compared to the bilateral relationship from 1959 to 1977, the two countries have agreed to conduct economic, political and diplomatic relationship in much more modern and civilized manner. India decided to ignore periodic Chinese intransigence and anti-India actions to keep up a façade of bilateral stability and warning. In small portions this policy worked, but largely it gave China to view India as a soft state.

Agreements were signed between India and China in 1993 and 1996 to keep the border tension free. But China has violated these confidence building measures more often than not. India chose to ignore these infractions in the interest of betterment of relations. A wise policy? Not really. Stable bilateral relations are conducted on equality.
Leaving aside the numerous Chinese omissions and commissions which are glaringly intended to amputate India’s external development, the more recent incidents include Chinese border forces destroying a border marker on the Sikkim-Tibet border. This needs to be taken much more seriously than the Indian government has done so far, at least publicly. The Sikkim-Tibet border was a settled issue so far as the Indian understanding was concerned. The Chinese had given no indication that they perceived there was a problem. This is another example of major significance questioning how far India, or for that matter any other country, can trust China.

China has destroyed the strategic cooperation agreement for development between India and China with impunity. India has been tricked time and again on energy security cooperation in Kazakhstan, Myanmar and Africa. China used Pakistan to persuade African countries to sabotage India’s UN efforts.

The message from Beijing is clear: India must play the role of a subservient country to the Central Kingdom in Beijing. The hope in South Block that China will support the US-India nuclear deal in the Nuclear Supplier, Group (NSG) if New Delhi did not raise issues, is, at best, naïve thinking. China will act as per its strategic interests. China did not say categorically at the Japan G-8 summit it will support India at the NSG. It could only mean that it will not be a sole opposition at the NSG.

China can act as it is doing now after developing soft power together with military power. The two powers feed on each other. India has two choices. Either it develops its hard power quickly, or be a partner of China under China’s dictations. There is nothing called only “soft power” because soft power cannot grow without indigenous security guarantees. One of the reasons for India’s “soft power” propaganda was to dissuade it to develop its strategic military strength.

(The author is an eminent China analyst with many years of experience of study on the developments in China. He can be reached at grouchohart@yahoo.com)

[Paper 2766, July 12th, 2008, South Asia Analysis Group, http://www.southasiaanalysis.org/papers28/paper2766.html]

Iran: The Gulf Between Us

2008-07-23T21:19:00.000-07:00

-Written by Flynt L. Leverett, Taken from: Op-Ed Piece written for the NY Times, Jan. 24^th, 2006

As the United States and its European partners consider their next steps to contain the Iranian nuclear threat, let's recall how poorly the Bush administration has handled this issue. During its five years in office, the administration has turned away from every opportunity to put relations with Iran on a more positive trajectory. Three examples stand out.

In the aftermath of the Sept. 11 attacks, Tehran offered to help Washington overthrow the Taliban and establish a new political order in Afghanistan. But in his 2002 State of the Union address, President Bush announced that Iran was part of an "axis of evil," thereby scuttling any possibility of leveraging tactical cooperation over Afghanistan into a strategic opening.

In the spring of 2003, shortly before I left government, the Iranian Foreign Ministry sent Washington a detailed proposal for comprehensive negotiations to resolve bilateral differences. The document acknowledged that Iran would have to address concerns about its weapons programs and support for anti-Israeli terrorist organizations. It was presented as having support from all major players in Iran's power structure, including the supreme leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei. A conversation I had shortly after leaving the government with a senior conservative Iranian official strongly suggested that this was the case. Unfortunately, the administration's response was to complain that the Swiss diplomats who passed the document from Tehran to Washington were out of line.

Finally, in October 2003, the Europeans got Iran to agree to suspend enrichment in order to pursue talks that might lead to an economic, nuclear and strategic deal. But the Bush administration refused to join the European initiative, ensuring that the talks failed.

Now Washington and its allies are faced with two unattractive options for dealing with the Iranian nuclear issue. They can refer the issue to the Security Council, but, at a time of tight energy markets, no one is interested in restricting Iranian oil sales. Other measures under discussion—travel restrictions on Iranian officials, for example—are likely to be imposed only ad hoc, with Russia and China as probable holdouts. They are in any case unlikely to sway Iranian decision-making, because unlike his predecessor, President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad disdains being feted in European capitals.

Alternatively, the United States (or Israel) could strike militarily at Iran's nuclear installations. But these are spread across Iran, and planners may not know all of the targets that would need to be hit. Moreover, a strike could prove counterproductive by hardening Iranian resolve to acquire a nuclear weapons capacity.

Is there a way out of this strategic dead end? Nuclear diplomacy with Iran, never an easy proposition, has been made harder not only by poor policy choices in Washington, but also by trends in Iranian politics. Mr. Ahmadinejad's electoral victory last year against former President Ali Akbar Hashemi Rafsanjani suggests that a significant number of Iranians linked Mr. Rafsanjani's call for rapprochement with the West with his corrupt past and rejected both in favor of Mr. Ahmadinejad's populist nationalism. Moreover, Mr. Ahmadinejad's execrable rhetoric about Israel and the Holocaust threatens to make future Western engagement look like appeasement.

These developments have severely circumscribed the possibilities for diplomacy between the United States and Iran. Iranian officials with ties to the Ayatollah Khamenei continue to stress in private conversations that key players on Iran's National Security Council—the chief decision-making body for foreign policy—remain interested in a strategic dialogue with Washington. But the popularly elected President Ahmadinejad could easily marshal resistance to any "grand bargain" with the United States. And absent a more positive strategic context, efforts to reopen discussions on a discrete issue of mutual interest, like Iraq, would at best only reprise the experience of short-lived tactical cooperation over Afghanistan.

Last week, the Saudi foreign minister, Saud al-Faisal, suggested a way out of this impasse—one that might also help address other pressing challenges in the Persian Gulf. The Saudi prince noted that if Iranian nuclear weapons were deployed against Israel, they would kill Palestinians, and if they missed Israel, they would hit Arab countries. And so he urged Iran "to accept the position that we have taken to make the Gulf, as part of the Middle East, nuclear free and free of weapons of mass destruction."

While Prince Saud blamed Israel for starting a nuclear arms race in the Middle East, his implication that a nuclear-weapons-free Gulf might precede a regionwide nuclear-weapons-free zone is a nuanced departure from longstanding Arab insistence that regional arms control cannot begin without Israel's denuclearization. The United States and its partners should build on this idea and support the creation of a Gulf Security Council that would include Iran, Iraq, Saudi Arabia and the other Arab states in the Gulf, as well as the five permanent members of the United Nations Security Council.

The Gulf Security Council would not replace American alliances with traditional security partners, but it would operate alongside them, much as the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe has operated alongside NATO. The council would provide a framework under which the United States could guarantee that it would not use force to change Iran's borders or form of government, provided that Iran committed itself to regionally defined and monitored norms for nonproliferation (including a nuclear weapons ban), counterterrorism and human rights. States concerned about Iran's nuclear activities would then have new leverage to ensure Iranian compliance with these commitments. Additionally, pressing Iran to abide by standards defined and administered multilaterally might be more acceptable to China and Russia than pushing Iran to accept an American reinterpretation of its nonproliferation obligations.

Such a framework would leapfrog over proposals for establishing a "contact group" of Iraq's neighbors and offer all parts of the Iranian political spectrum—even the hard-liners around Mr. Ahmadinejad—something they want: recognition of Iran's leading regional role. Besides rejuvenating efforts to contain the Iranian nuclear threat, it could provide essential support for stabilization in Iraq, as the inclusion of Iran and Saudi Arabia would bring together the two states that could be most useful in brokering compromises between Shiite and Sunni communities there.

A diplomatic resolution of the Iranian nuclear problem is still within reach. But successful diplomacy will require a bold new vision. The next time the five permanent members of the Security Council convene to discuss Iran, perhaps they should meet in Riyadh rather than London.

[Senior Fellow at the Brookings Institute, taken from: http://www.brookings.edu/opinions/2006/0124middleeast_leverett.aspx]

Urbanization: Globalization's Often Overlooked Companion

2008-07-23T20:33:00.000-07:00

- Written by AJ Reibel, MIR program, New Zealand

Globalization, initially championed as a move towards economic progress by reducing trade barriers and integrating the disparate economies of the world, has resulted in both positive and negative effects for the world’s diverse urban and rural spheres. Although economic integration and its resulting spread of beliefs, values and behaviours – the three major components of culture, according to the Society for American Archaeology[1] – have been identified as the major effects of globalization, perhaps the most impressive effect of globalization is the rapid urbanization that has swept through developing and developed states alike.

Globalization has caused urbanization to unfold similarly in different countries. Links between cities, once merely dusty roads or snaking railroad tracks and now airline routes and satellite relay stations, have strengthened due to advancing technology and economic amalgamation. As a result, cities such as Los Angeles, Mexico City, Buenos Aires, Johannesburg (Gauteng), Cairo, Mumbai, Jakarta, and Shanghai have all rapidly grown from urban centres that were home to mere hundreds of thousands or a couple of million inhabitants to megacities with populations well over 8 million.[2]

In many megacities, newly added urban extensions and developments have resulted in similar urban characteristics: sprawl extends from the often abandoned CBD into the outlying areas that were once rural settings; gated communities have been built within commuting distance from the financial districts and are designed to serve as ‘cities within cities’ for their elite inhabitants[3]; “corridors of wealth” have sprung up between gated communities and financial districts[4]; the poor have been relegated to peripheral (or in some settings, abandoned central), unsuitable, and often un-serviced locations; and lastly, many services in the megacities are privatized as the NeoLiberal Institutional economic thought behind globalization has discouraged heavy government subsidies and public expenditure[5]. In fact, the similarities in urbanization between most of the world’s rapidly expanding cities allow one to “...talk meaningfully [about]...a ‘global city’ whose presence [is] felt almost everywhere.”[6]

Although Magnusson refers to a cosmopolitan ‘global city’ presence and the ensuing dissemination of technologies, economies and a shift from an agrarian life to an urban industrial one, the same ‘global city’ presence resulted in privatizations of services, fragmentation of society, and growing disparity between rich and poor. The result is that both globalization and globalization’s key feature – urbanization – have heightened the division between the ‘haves’ and ‘have-nots’ – both in the form of state and individual actors. Since urbanization has cast the individual as the actor, it has created a “new urban geography” in most states – pitting urbanity’s few rich consumers against a mass of disadvantaged and unfortunate persons.[7]

Although urbanization has been largely detrimental to large portions of the globe’s population, the ‘global city’ effect has led to an unstoppable cultural exchange and integration. As traditional livelihoods are lost and ethnic customs abandoned – described in Jeremy Seabrook’s account of the destruction of Malaysia’s fishing people[8] – so too, new global identities and cultures (or, in some cases, subcultures) emerge. Urban youth culture has surfaced across continents as television shows, music channels, and sports are made accessible through satellite TV, radio, and the internet. Hip-hop music, breakdance, skateboarding, and reality shows have been translated, adopted, and re-broadcasted by French, Ghanaian, Indian, Korean, and American media sources.

Not only is urban-based youth culture a product of the dominance of Western culture and its reach through the process of globalization, but as diverse urban youth embrace a similar culture, elements of youth culture are used to convey country or culture-specific experiences. MC Solaar was one of the first immigrant rappers to adopt the hip-hop music culture that emanated from poor American urban centres and incorporate immigrant experiences into the beginnings of ‘French Rap’. Another example is that of Las Krudas, a Cuban lesbian hip-hop group that “...have used the hip-hop community as a space to address issues like lesbian sexuality and other experiences of Cuban women that aren't addressed in other areas of the public sphere.”[9]

Urbanization, with its youth culture, privatized social and municipal services, increased prosperity and crippling poverty, and ethnic and social tensions, is a microcosm of the phenomenon of globalization that is rapidly altering the way that states and their inhabitants act in the contexts of international relations, international economic interaction, global cultural integration and expression, and international challenges. Perhaps because urbanization has indeed transformed developed and developing cities alike, Marshall McLuhan’s ‘Global Village’ label[10] – though not chiefly its overly negative technological connotation – is the best way to explain what is happening to the urban centres of the world under the current force of globalization’s most remarkable feature: urbanization.

[1] ___, “Archaeological Terms,” Teaching Archaeology, Society for American Archaeology, http://www.saa.org/publications/sampler/terms.html.

[2] Johannesburg is the least populated city of the group, with a mere 9 million inhabitants. Mexico City (Distrito Federal) topped the charts with 22 million inhabitants in 2004. The term megacity and the figures were taken from the following source: Mike Davis, Planet of Slums (New York: Verso, 2006), 4.

[3] Pedro Pirez, “Buenos Aires: Fragmentation and Privatization of the Metropolitan City,” Environment and Urbanization, Vol.14 (2002): 154.

[4] Ibid., 149.

[5] Buenos Aires serves as a prime example of a city that underwent a massive privatization process in the 1990s. Johannesburg, Mexico City, Rio de Janeiro, and Managua all serve as examples of cities with many privatized services and startling levels of inequity. In fact, the IMF-supported subsidy reductions and privatizations that rocked Cochabamba and resulted in the 1999-2000 Cochabamaba Water War. Taken from: Roger Burbach, “Evo Morales and the Roots of Revolution,” The Native Press, April 15, 2007, www.thenativepress.com/news/bolivia.html.

[6] Warren Magnusson, “Social Movements and the Global City,” Millenium: Journal of International Studies, Vol. 23, No. 3 (1994): 627.

[7] Jorge Wilheim, “Urbanization and Globalization,” Le Courrier de l’UNESCO (June, 1996): 32, http://www.unesco.org/courier/1999_06/uk/dossier/intro18.htm.

[8] Jeremy Seabrook, In the Cities of the South: Scenes from a Developing World (London: Verso, 1996), 16-17.

[9] Margaux Joffe, “As Free as the Words of a Poem: Las Krudas and the Cuban Hip-Hop Movement,” Monthly Review Magazine, 13/02/06, http://mrzine.monthlyreview.org/joffe130206.html.

[10] ___, “The Playboy Interview: Marshall McLuhan,” Playboy Magazine, March, 1969, http://www.columbia.edu/~log2/mediablogs/McLuhanPBinterview.htm.

Is the US Still a Hegemonic Power?

2008-05-10T19:10:00.001-07:00

-Written by AJ Reibel, MIR program, New Zealand

When discussing the notion of hegemony, there is an important distinction to make between international hegemony, or dominance, and internal hegemony. Internal hegemony refers to the maintenance of power structures by a particular class. Gramsci mentions the bourgeoisie class as the beneficiaries of the fruits of hegemony. What we are interested in, though, is the first notion of hegemony. Since we are addressing the question of whether or not the United States is a hegemonic power, we need to understand hegemony as international dominance. The United States, in this regard, has been (and continues to be) a hegemonic power.

American hegemony stems, as Gramsci and Cox explain, from its domestic interests. Domestic interests, which result in a country’s international interests, mirror the interests of a dominant class within the state’s society. In this way, Gramsci proposed that a historic bloc exists “[with] a hegemonic social class.”[1] As a result, the dominant class in a country directs the identity and “propagation of a common culture”[2] that the country, in turn, projects on the international scene.

The common culture, identity, and interests established by a dominant bloc within a country are evident at the international level. However, at the domestic level, they are much less obvious. For example, within the United States, one would say that Texan oil families wield substantial power. Similarly, however, Northern California IT families, Hollywood families, Midwestern brewing families, and the East-coast banking families also wield significant power. No one single bloc establishes an all-encompassing culture, identity, and interest within the US.

Nonetheless, when an administration – strongly supported by a particularly powerful bloc – comes into office, it projects the interests, culture, and identity of a specific domestic bloc as the state’s concerns, ethos, and personality. This has happened with the Bush family dynasty. The administration of George W. Bush has projected the culture and interests of the Texan oil families as inherent American concerns and philosophy.

At the international level, where does this American hegemony stem from? The United States has only become a hegemonic power in the last century. Although Cox points to a “third period” of hegemony, starting in 1945 with the end of the Second World War, as central to the rise of the United States as a hegemonic power[3], its ascent began around the turn of the 20th century. American power grew as a result of its defeat of the Spanish Empire during the Spanish-American War.

With the American victory, the government became more interested in events outside of its territory. Despite accusations of being disinterested in Europe, American administrations pursued strategic policies throughout Central and South America – rationalising that Latin America was naturally the backyard of the United States.

The United States built up its armed forces, self-esteem, and a psyche that allowed it to assert itself. Only then, did it feel comfortable getting involved in conflicts in the Old World. With its victorious experience after the First Great War and its ensuing economic surge, the US emerged as an un-contested hegemonic power. American military and economic dominance during the years of the Second World War served simply to solidify the fact that the US had surpassed Old World states in power and economic capacity. As a result, it was universally accepted that the US emerged as the international hegemon in 1945.

The most credible challenge to American economic dominance ensued between the 1960s and 1970s. Cox points out that “…the possible assertion of a Third-World-based counterhegemony with the concerted demand for the New International Economic Order…” constituted the largest challenge to American hegemony.[4] The NIEO called for Western payouts to developing states for the degenerative effects of colonialism, increases in technical and financial assistance, favourable trade agreements for developing states, and a regulation of foreign commercial interests in the developing world.[5]

It must be noted that Cox, following Gramasci’s Neo-Marxist political ideology, works to explain the likely possibility of a hegemonic-shift along class lines and facilitated by domestic civil society and global civil society organisations. As a result, he stresses the importance of the NIEO.

The overall result of the NIEO challenge, however, was not paradigm-altering. It simply resulted in a reformulation of economic policies by the US and its major Western and Asian economic allies. Least Developed Countries (LDCs) were granted some preferential trading rights, received injections of Official Development Aid (ODA), and saw limited amounts of their debt cancelled. Gramsci referred to this type of absorption and adoption of “…potentially counter-hegemonic ideas…” as transformismo.[6] The United States and its “second-rank [supporting] countries”[7] effectively countered the assault of the NIEO by emphasising its divisive and antagonistic properties.

The United States has been adept at utilising international institutions to continually entrench its economic hegemony, even in the face of calls for reform or alternative international economic systems. By establishing and controlling institutions such as the World Bank, the UN Security Council, the WTO, and supporting the participation of its allies in institutions such as the G8 and the IMF, the United States has “...ideologically legitimate[d] the norms of the world order..., co-opted the elites from peripheral countries and, [by establishing a forum such as the UN General Assembly, by which powerless states can air their complaints, the institutions have] ... absorb[ed] counter-hegemonic ideas.”[8]

Because international institutions are not linked to popular political bases, Cox is hopeful that grassroots civil society organisations, through international exchanges, will bring about a paradigmatic shift.[9] Cox explains that the hegemonic order creates a large class of disadvantaged within the “core countries” and it is this class that may bring about a change in the international order. According to Cox, the change will occur by creating a “...broad alliance...against the sectors of capital and labour which find common ground in international production and the monopoly-liberal world order.”[10]

More likely is the rise of a competitor state with a rival vision of a hegemonic world order. It is likely that, with the over-accumulation of capital that has severely weakened the US within its own hegemonic system, China will ascend as the economically dominant state on the international stage. With its drive to “...absorb [its] vast labour surpluses by debt-financed investment in huge mega-projects...”[11] and a rapidly growing consumerist class, China is likely to survive the instability of the US Globalisation paradigm.

However, until China establishes or fully co-opts American-established international institutions and coerces the US’s second-rank supporting countries into joining its rival economic system, it will not become the dominant power on the world scene. Of course, all hegemonic states have seen their influence and power wane and the same will happen to the US. Until another state supplants the US economic system with a more powerful one, American dominance on the international stage remains uncontested. Despite its losses in Iraq, virulent anti-Americanism throughout many regions of the world, and potentially hostile military powers, the US remains a hegemonic power.

_____________
[1] Robert Cox, “Gramsci, Hegemony and International Relations: An Essay in Method,” Millennium Journal of International Studies, Vol. 12, No. 2 (1983):168.
[2] Ibid.
[3] Ibid., 170.
[4] Ibid., 171.
[5] Edmund Jan Ozmanczyk, “The New International Economic Order Requested by Developing Countries,” in Encyclopedia of the United Nations and International Agreements, Third Edition, Vol. 1 A-F (New York: Routledge, 2003), 528.
[6] Cox, “Gramsci, Hegemony and International Relations: An Essay in Method,” 173.
[7] Ibid.,” 172.
[8] Ibid.
[9] Ibid., 173.
[10] Ibid., 174.
[11] David Harvey, “Capital Bondage,” in the New Imperialism (____: Oxford University Press, 2003), 123.

Tibet is one thing, but India and China tensions spell bigger disaster

2008-05-08T20:10:00.000-07:00

India and China are booming and will shape the 21st century, but old tensions between the two could spell disaster for the region

-Written by Bill Emmott. Taken from: Sunday Times, March 30, 2008.

Few of his contemporaries think of George Walker Bush as a visionary American president, unless they are using the term to imply a touch of madness. Yet early in his second term Bush launched a bold initiative to try to establish closer American ties with India, the world’s biggest democracy, in what may eventually be judged by historians as a move of great strategic importance and imagination.

It recognised the fact that while Al-Qaeda and its cohorts pose the biggest short-term and perhaps medium-term challenge to America, in the long term it is the expected shift in the world’s economic and political balance towards Asia that promises to have the greatest significance.

That is why this month’s events in Tibet, as well as the purchase by India’s Tata Motors of Land Rover and Jaguar from Ford, need to be seen in a wider context.

Bush, meanwhile, has managed to cast aside 40 years of hostility and suspicion between America and India – and even agreed to start collaborating over nuclear energy – in the hope of strengthening India and its economy. And all for a special reason: the rise of China.
Economists at Goldman Sachs reckon that if China carries on with pro-growth policies and manages its economy reasonably well, it could overtake the United States as the world’s biggest economy as soon as the late 2020s. By 2050 India might also have overtaken the United States if it pursues vigorous economic reforms in this decade and beyond. India, at present the world’s 11th-largest economy, has long been thought of as a laggard compared with China: good at information technology and outsourcing but incapable of the sort of manufacturing that has powered China’s economic emergence.

That is changing. These days India is beginning to follow the Chinese model with investment soaring as a share of GDP, with trade booming and with manufacturing expanding faster than services. Its biggest companies, of which the Tata Group is in the lead, are achieving global reach, capabilities and prominence far faster than their Chinese counterparts.

If a Chinese car maker had sought to buy Jaguar and Land Rover, it would almost certainly have encountered opposition in America’s Congress – but India, unlike China, is seen as an ally.

India, however, needs help in financing the construction of its roads, airports and power plants and it needs help with technology. In fact, it is already being helped by Japan – egged on by America – with its infrastructure financing. And Bush’s civil nuclear deal was aimed at providing the technology that India desperately needs.

So even if the dates and figures in forecasts such as Goldman’s are wrong, Asia is going to get richer and stronger, probably for a long time to come. The reason why Tibet and Tata come into the picture is that the rise of Asia is not just going to pit Asia against the West. It is going to pit Asians against Asians. This is the first time in history when there have been three powerful countries in Asia at the same time: China, India and Japan. That might not matter if they liked each other or were somehow naturally compatible. But they do not and are not. Far from it, in fact.

An array of disputes, historical bitternesses and regional flashpoints weigh down on all three countries. Conflict is not inevitable but nor is it inconceivable. If it were to occur – over Taiwan, say, or the Korean peninsula or Tibet or Pakistan – it would not simply be an intra-Asian affair. The outside world would be drawn in.

Such a conflict could break out suddenly. This month’s unrest in Tibet has shown just how volatile China can be – and how easily one of those flashpoints could cause international tension.

In 1962 China and India fought a border war that humiliated India and left an enduring legacy of bitterness and suspicion. Both countries are now increasing their military spending and trying to modernise their armed forces.

The border dispute remains unresolved.

China claims an entire Indian state, Arunachal Pradesh, which borders southern Tibet and is roughly the size of Portugal. India claims that China is occupying 15,000 square miles of what is rightfully India – in Aksai Chin, an almost uninhabited plateau high in the Himalayas.
You can see these disputes as relics of colonialism. They involve two areas of limited strategic importance which, while large, are not heavily populated and do not as far as we know contain hugely valuable mineral resources. The other way to view these disputes is that they are not about specific border demarcations at all. In truth, they are about Tibet.

China invaded Tibet in October 1950 and annexed it to Mao Tse-tung’s newly declared people’s republic. The Chinese say that Tibet had historically been part of China since the 13th century. But in practice the reason why it is now an “autonomous region” within China – that is, run by the Chinese Communist party – is that it is on the eastern side of the Himalayas. Strategically, China feels safer with the world’s highest mountain range as its border.

In the early 1950s China encroached on Aksai Chin in order to build a strategic road connecting Tibet and its eastern province of Xinjiang. In 1958-9 it brutally suppressed a substantial uprising by armed Tibetans, some of whom had been supplied and trained by either the CIA or India. Afterwards China proposed a border settlement that would have involved India giving up Aksai Chin and all hope of regaining influence over Tibet. Naturally the proposal was rejected.

In 1960-2 India tried to push forward its military positions in the disputed areas. China responded with attacks that left 3,000 Indians dead. Beijing had taught Delhi a lesson: India should not mess with China and its control over Tibet. Only a fool would challenge China’s control over that region now and India formally recognised in 2003 that Tibet is part of China.

On the face of it the two sides have since made progress. A border crossing was opened to trade in 2006 for the first time since the war. That year, however, the Chinese ambassador to Delhi caused outrage by publicly emphasising that China claims the whole of Arunachal Pradesh.

Ten months ago a “confidence-building” visit to China by more than 100 Indian officials had to be cancelled after China acted in a typically provocative way: it refused to grant a visa to a member of the Indian delegation from Arunachal Pradesh on the grounds that he was Chinese and did not need one.

It is conventional to assume that the disputed areas are no longer flashpoints but just irritatingly unfinished business. Which is largely right – provided there is no substantial uprising by Tibetans against being ruled by the Chinese. But that, of course, is exactly what began to occur on March 14, when Tibetans celebrated the anniversary of their 1959 uprising by launching the most violent and destructive riots since that date. Not surprisingly, the Chinese authorities stamped out the protests efficiently and brutally.

It was an embarrassing event to have taken place in the year of the Beijing Olympics, that great celebration of China’s emergence as a modern nation. But it is also a harbinger of trouble to come.

Why? Because a further possible trigger for Tibetan unrest lies ahead: the death of the Dalai Lama, Tenzin Gyatso, or, rather, the choice of his successor. In Tibet the Buddhist monasteries are the closest things to an alternative organising force to the Communist party. The Dalai Lama has not only traditionally been the spiritual leader of Tibetan Buddhism but in practice the political leader, too. He has lived in exile in Dharamsala in India since 1959, but remains the focus of Tibetan identity and memory.

He will be 73 this year and, inevitably, thoughts have been turning to what happens when he dies. In Tibetan Buddhism it is believed that the Dalai Lama is reincarnated – which means that after his death there will be a search for the child who will be his successor. It often takes several years before agreement is reached on who that successor should be.

Whenever the next succession takes place there will be three extra complications. The first is that in 2007 China announced new regulations to govern the reincarnation of all Tibetan clergy: it has said it will have the last word in determining whether someone has been reincarnated. In other words, atheist party officials will govern Tibetan spiritual decisions.

In response, the Dalai Lama said he was considering naming his chosen successor before he dies. But – and this is the second complication – he has also said he will not be reincarnated in land under Chinese control. So if his followers abide by that statement they will not accept any successor who has been found inside China.

The third complication is that traditionally the second ranking lama, the Panchen Lama, has played a central role in choosing the new Dalai Lama. But after the previous Panchen Lama died in China in 1989, two successors were chosen: one by the Dalai Lama’s selection committee; the other by a selection committee imposed by China. The Dalai Lama’s choice was arrested. His whereabouts is unknown but he is thought to be a political prisoner.

If – or when – the Tibetans are faced with a dispute over the successor to their spiritual leader, serious unrest could break out. The likelihood is that China would crack down hard on Tibet, as it always has in the past and as it did this month. But if the unrest were more widespread and substantial than before, and if it coincided with a period when the central Chinese government was weak – in the wake of an economic downturn, perhaps – then it may be hard to regain control.

At such a time, unrest might break out all around China, making it harder simply to crack down in Tibet alone.

Two risks could then arise. One, admittedly unlikely, is that in the face of Chinese repression, perhaps involving the wholesale slaughter of Tibetan militants, India might feel obliged to do something: to send aid, agitate for collective international intervention or even to try to create safe havens near Arunachal Pradesh.

The other risk is that either China or India might decide to send a military force into the disputed border areas. That might be a diversionary tactic; it might be opportunism, in India’s case; it might reflect China’s sense of insecurity about Tibet; or it might be a Chinese effort to seize Tawang, an area of Arunachal Pradesh directly associated with Tibet and with Tibetan Buddhism. If any of these events occurred, the stakes would be high.

Remember: this is part of a greater Asian drama that is going to be a permanent feature of world affairs and arguably the most important single determinant of whether or not those affairs proceed peacefully and prosperously.

There are two different images of how Asia might look in 2020: the first could be termed “plausible pessimism” and the second called “credible optimism”.

The plausibly pessimistic view begins with the risk that China will suffer a bruising recession and asset-price collapse, perhaps exacerbated by a recession in the United States. This will lead to public pressure for political reform, posing the biggest challenge to Communist party rule since Tiananmen in 1989. That pressure will again be violently rebuffed and the party will accentuate its nationalist credentials in order to retain its grip on power.

Such a nationalist move would produce increased tension with Japan, a reduction in cooperation with the United States over North Korea and a spate of mutual truculence between China and India.

In these awkward times the deaths of Kim Jong-il of North Korea and the Dalai Lama could both occur, prompting China to install a new military government in Pyongyang, to reject proposals for unification of the peninsula and to use brutal methods to suppress an uprising by Buddhist monks in Tibet.

What would Japan do? If it became even more worried about North Korea and China, it would revise its constitution to permit expanded military capabilities. Then there is Taiwan, which would be an ever-present worry over an imminent conflict between China, Japan and America. There could even be a short, exploratory exchange of fire over that very issue.

The warm glow of the 2008 Beijing Olympics would be remembered only through a thick smog of tension.

Now look on the brighter side. The credibly optimistic view is that by 2020 China’s economy could be at least three times larger than it is today; the same could well apply to India as it uses its rising tax revenues to build modern infrastructure and a proper system of primary and secondary education.

Japan, with more market-oriented reforms and a corporate sector galvanised by the prospect of Chinese competition, could experience a productivity surge similar to that enjoyed by the United States during the 1990s, enabling it to become more confident in international affairs.

In such a climate China, Japan and India would work together to build pan-Asian institutions within which to manage their disputes and differences. When the North Korean regime collapses and the Dalai Lama passes away, their first instinct would be to talk and exchange ideas rather than to act unilaterally.

The introduction of the election of Hong Kong’s chief executive by universal suffrage, a step made possible by this harmonious atmosphere, could increase interest in the use of democracy in China itself. The emerging Chinese middle class, irritated by its rising tax burden and lack of political rights, would put pressure on the Communist party through protests and through the media to follow Hong Kong’s example.

The party’s fifth and sixth generations of leaders might decide it was time to make concessions, reasoning that they could repeat the success of Japan’s Liberal Democratic Party and maintain power even in a multi-party system. The first elections would be called late in the 21st century’s second decade or early in the third.

Clearly, whether the pessimistic or optimistic scenario prevails, what is happening in Tibet does not stand in isolation. The stakes in Asia are enormous – for all of us.

[Bill Emmott, "Tibet is one thing, but India and China tensions spell bigger disaster," Sunday Times, 30 March 2008, http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/world/asia/article3645001.ece]

What Does Al Qaeda Really Threaten?

2008-04-05T16:09:00.000-07:00

The English School of Thought Explains the Threat Posed By Al Qaeda:
- Written by A. J. Reibel, MIR 2008, New Zealand

The English School, which follows the ideologies of Grotius, maintains a middle-ground between the Realist and Utopian views of international relations. As a result, the English School supports both the notion that states are the key actors on the international stage, and that, despite power struggles, states “...are limited in their conflicts with one another by common rules and institutions.”[1] The emergence of Al Qaeda is, therefore, deeply troubling to the English School of thought. Barak Mendelsohn explains how Al Qaeda threatens the International System (IS) by directly challenging state sovereignty and by extension, the idea that states are the contestants in the international arena.

Al Qaeda espouses an extremist Islamic ideology that aims to topple the “...logic [of] the sovereignty-based state system...”[2] and replace it with an Islamic fundamentalist paradigm. The Islamic Khalifat that Al Qaeda seeks to establish throughout the Islamic world will, according to Bin Laden, break down “...the unnatural borders that separate the different Muslim states...” and create a unified Islamic super-state[3]. The creation of a Khalifat would dismantle the national workings of dozens of states and combine them into an amorphous Muslim nation, directed by Sharia Law.

The challenge that Al Qaeda’s ideology poses to state sovereignty stems from its rejection of the legitimacy of most Muslim states. Bin Laden not only condemns relations between Muslim and non-Muslim states, but also attacks the rampant corruption and un-Islamic behaviour of the leadership of many Arab administrations.[4] Saudi Arabia bears the brunt of his ire.

Furthermore, Bin Laden and Al Qaeda maintain that, both domestic and foreign policies of Muslim states frequently contradict what they consider “divine imperatives,” or Allah’s decrees.[5] Consequently, Al Qaeda dismisses the right of Arab governments to determine policy for their constituents. Further, Bin Laden argues that the search for international legitimacy, or international sovereignty[6], challenges Sharia Law’s legitimacy.[7]

In fact, Al Qaeda sees both Muslim and non-Muslim states as illegitimate. It dismisses international norms that form the basis for the UN, international law, and multilateral agreements, as being solely based on the laws of man, and, therefore, fundamentally wrong. In maintaining that “...only G-d is sovereign to create law,”[8] Al Qaeda’s ideology rejects domestic and international law. As Al Qaeda deprecates all man-made law, it also rejects the legitimacy of Arab and non-Arab state actors alike.

Although Al Qaeda aims to overthrow the IS paradigm, its trans-national challenge may actually result in strengthening the IS. While a “...confrontation between state logic and religious logic represents a possible erosion of the IS,”[9] the global threat of Islamic fundamentalism has fashioned a unique coalition of Western, Asian, and Arab nations in the face of a common, overwhelming threat.

Additionally, the creation of any Islamic super-state will, inevitably, fall within the Westphalian state model. A super-state, whether led by religious or nationalistic ideology, will have many of the same concerns that Western states seek to address – challenges to its sovereignty, a need to further its interests and secure resources in order to maintain its livelihood, and the unavoidable need to interact with other states. Iran serves as an example in which a revolutionary movement overthrew the sovereign government, and replaced it with an Islamic fundamentalist one – something that was seen as endangering the IS at large. Yet, as Iran has matured, it has acted within the framework of the IS.[10]

Barak Mendelsohn paints a “...comprehensive picture of Al Qaeda’s challenge, both to the sovereignty of specific states, and to the principles, rules, and institutions that bind states together in a society.”[11] Yet, despite the menace posed by fundamentalist Islamism, the IS will likely survive. After all, the nations of the world all stand to lose if Bin Laden succeeds.

[1] Hedley Bull, The Anarchical Society: A Study of Order in World Politics 2nd ed. (_: Macmillan, 1976), 25.
[2] Barak Mendelsohn, “International Society Meets Al Qaeda,” Review of International Studies, vol. 31 (2005): 54.
[3] Ibid., 60.
[4] Ibid., 58.
[5] Ibid., 62.
[6] Stephen D. Krasner, “Rethinking the sovereign State Model,” Review of International Studies, vol. 27 (2001): 21.
[7] (Mendelsohn 2005): 63.
[8] Ibid.
[9] Ibid., 56.
[10] Iran is a pariah, as it regularly violates International norms by supporting terrorist groups and seeking to develop WMDs. Nonetheless, it is important to look at Iran’s behaviour in International frameworks. It is an example that, even a religious fundamentalist ideology that secures power at a state level, matures and authenticates the IS.
[11] (Mendelsohn 2005), 46.

What are Western values and are they universal in principle?

2008-03-16T00:38:00.000-07:00

- Written by A. J. Reibel, MIR 2008, New Zealand

“We have to show that our values are not Western, still less American or Anglo-Saxon, but values in the common ownership of humanity, universal values that should be the right of the global citizen.”[1]

There is an un-deniable conflict of ideas between the West, typically represented by the leading developed nations, and the rest of the world. Politicians, academics, and lay-people have all discussed the imposition of Western culture, along with its ideas and values, throughout the world. Despite resistance to adopt Western values, those same values are found in the founding principles of many international organisations. Some Western values are universal in principle, but are not universally applied.

What are Western values? Western values are values championed in the Magna Carta, Rousseau’s Social Contract, the U.S. Bill of Rights, and United Nations’ conventions[2]. They are freedom of religion[3], respect for private property[4], equal right before the law and due process[5], the right to vote regardless of gender or creed[6], freedom of speech[7], respect for human rights[8], democratic governance, and the separation of church and state. Western values are different from Asian or African values in that they champion the interests of the individual within society. Asian values subordinate the interest of the individual to the interests of the wider group.

Tony Blair points out that, despite their inclusion in various international agreements, Western values have not been applied across the globe. When he speaks of upholding democracy and modernity by “…standing up for our values, not just in our own countries but the world over,”[9] he really speaks of forcing nations to apply Western values. To Blair, there is still much work to accomplish in spreading the practice of universally agreed-to Western values.

Huntington may bemoan the retreat of Western culture, but Western values are not likely to disappear anytime soon. Huntington simply looks at language and religion as indicators of the decline of Western culture, but he neglects to examine the frameworks of international organisations and agreements, in which Western values are embedded. As long as nations continue to work within the U.N. framework and continue to sign international agreements based on the UN Charter, they will be agreeing to abide by Western values.

Although the set of values espoused by European and American political leaders is reflected in the frameworks of international organisations, many Western values are not applied by signatories of international agreements. The notion of universal human rights is a contentious issue as it is open to various interpretations of what they constitute. Do people have an inherent right to support themselves? Most nations would agree that they do. Do people have a fundamental right to practice any form of spiritual expression, however they may define it? The Chinese assert that Falun-Gong adherents are simply subversives and their devotions constitute subversion and insurrection.

Although Western values are based on Judeo-Christian beliefs, the latter are not widely accepted throughout the world. In many Middle Eastern nations, the idea of turning the other cheek is wholly rejected in practice. Instead, Sharia law calls for offences to be punished in kind – more in keeping with the Old Testament ‘eye for an eye’ approach to retribution. Even though Judeo-Christian beliefs are not universal, neither in application nor in principle, the Western values espoused in UN conventions are widely agreed to.

Accordingly, to say that all Western values are universally accepted in principle is to go too far. Freedom of speech and freedom of religious expression are all very well in theory, but many developing nations feel threatened by these intrusive Western values and are hesitant to employ them. In Asia, the tentative implementation of Western values is indicative of the fact that Asian values subordinate the interest of the individual to the interests of the wider group. As a result, Western values are generally accepted but not universally applied.

[1] Tony Blair, “A Battle for Global Values,” Foreign Affairs, Jan/Feb 2007, 6.
[2] Western values are expressed in many UN conventions. Examples of such conventions are, as follows: Convention on the Elimination of Discrimination Against Women; Convention on the Rights of the Child; Convention on Economic, Cultural and Social Rights; Convention on Civil and Political Rights; and the Universal Declaration on Human Rights.
[3] Jean Jacques Rousseau, The Social Contract of Principles of Political Right: Book IV (1762) translated by G.D.H. Cole and rendered into HTML by Jon Roland of the Constituent Society, Book IV: 8 Civil Religion, http://www.constitution.org/jjr/socon_04.htm#008. [viewed on 14/03/2008]
[4] “Articles 28, 30, and 31: Magna Carta – Britannia History,” Magna Carta, 1215, http://www.britannia.com/history/docs/magna2.html. [viewed on 14/03/2008]
[5] Taken from: “Bill of Rights: United States Constitution,” Legal Information Institute: Cornell University Law School, http://www.law.cornell.edu/constitution/constitution.billofrights.html. [viewed on 13/03/2008]
[6] Ibid.
[7] Ibid.
[8] Taken from: “Article 1: Chapter 1,” Charter of the United Nations: About the UN, http://www.un.org/aboutun/charter/index.html. [viewed on 13/03/2008]
[9] Blair, “A Battle for Global Values,” 5.

Dili[gent] Neighbour or Oil-Hungry Opportunist?

2008-02-19T02:06:00.000-08:00

Background to the Indonesian Invasion
East Timor is a small half-an-island nation that shares its island with an Indonesian province. It sits nestled at the far eastern end of the Indonesian archipelagic sprawl and sits north of Australia. East Timor, one of the newest members of the world community, has had a tumultuous past. It was a contested island during the turbulent colonial expansion of the Dutch and Portuguese in the East Indies. In the late 1800s, it was divided into a Portuguese controlled eastern half of the island and a Dutch East Indies western side – as with other troubled former colonies, its division was negotiated in the grand hotels of Europe while its inhabitants’ lives were irreversibly changed.

The island was divided between Dutch and Portuguese colonial rule throughout the early 20th century. Portuguese control over East Timor was interrupted during the Second World War with the invasion of Japanese forces which responded to an Australian presence on the island. With the end of the Second World War, Portugal resumed its administration of East Timor. Finally in 1974, following a sudden military coup in Lisbon that put an end to Portugal’s colonial aspirations, Portugal divested itself of its colonies throughout the globe.[1] They consisted of economically marginalized territories, most with armed and growing freedom movements. Mozambique, Angola, Guinea Bissau, Macau, and Timor-Leste (East Timor) all gained their independence.

As East Timor was being evacuated by the Portuguese in 1975, a rebel force known as the Timorese Democratic Union Party (UDT) attempted a coup d’etat and was quickly toppled by the Revolutionary Front for an Independent East Timor (FRETILIN) which drove the UDT into the jungles of Indonesia and declared independence.[2] The UDT sought help from the Indonesian military and in response Indonesia launched an invasion of the eastern side of the island.[3] It maintained that it was merely protecting the Timorese from the grips of the communist FRETILIN forces.[4] FRETILIN had, in fact, endorsed a democratic style of governance.

Australian Involvement
Australia, portrayed as the regional policeman and current protector of East Timor, has long been intimately involved in the Timor question. Despite the positive media attention focused on Australia in recent years, Australia has long played an underhanded game for control over Timorese hydrocarbon resources. Australia signed a maritime agreement with Indonesia in 1972 that it then extended to include its rights over waters off the coast of East Timor in 1989.[5] Portugal protested against the Timor Gap Treaty – the Indonesian Australian treaty that carved up the Timor Gap’s oil and gas reserves without demarcating a boundary.[6] It claimed that Indonesia did not have the right to negotiate for East Timor’s sovereign waters as it had illegally invaded a sovereign nation. Consecuently UN Transitional Authority for East Timor (UNTAET) declared the 1989 Timor Gap Treaty illegal and as a result Australia signed a memorandum of understanding (MOU) with the UN in 2001 to allow it continued access to East Timor’s oil.[7]

Australia has long flip-flopped on its East Timor policies. The bottom line is that Australia, despite being wary of its heavily-armed Muslim neighbor[8] to the north, is very keen to gain control of the purported $30 billion worth of oil and gas lying under the Timor Gap.[9] Australia supported Indonesia’s invasion of East Timor justifying the military operation as a move against communism. Recently however, it has committed the bulk of the peacekeeping mission to East Timor. Its soldiers patrol the streets in conjunction with New Zealand forces and bring a semblance of order to the recently independent and extremely unstable country. The issue of control over the exploration and distribution of the undersea hydrocarbon reserves is at the heart of the Australian presence on the ground.

The Australian media, and most of the international media, have painted Australia’s involvement in East Timor as a humanitarian one aimed at bringing peace and stability to its newborn and poverty-stricken neighbor to the north. In 2006, East Timor’s then Prime Minister, Mari Alkatiri, claimed that Australia was trying to maintain East Timor unstable and economically dependent on aid in order to wrest control of resources from the infant government in Dili. Rob Wesley-Smith, a spokesperson for Australian-based Free East Timor, stated that “[despite the Timor Gap] area being disputed, almost certainly under UNCLOS (UN Commission for the Law of the Sea) rules, it belongs to East Timor”.[10] Furthermore, he added in an Inter Press Service News Agency interview that “…television images of Australian troops who arrived in Dili where they stood by watching as looting and burning went on made him wonder, if it was a part of a sinister plot by Canberra to declare East Timor a failed state "so that they could control the Timor Sea (oil) theft”.[11]

Current Situation
East Timor continues to be propped up by the Australian and New Zealand militaries and is being rebuilt by UNMIT, a UN peace-building mission. The present situation in Timor Leste is precarious as ever. The Australian-educated and backed President Jose Ramos-Horta is convalescing in a Darwin hospital after a botched assassination attempt launched by Alfredo Reinado – a graduate of the National Defence Academy in Canberra and the leader of a mutiny against the East Timorese government.[12]

The situation on the ground remains tense as Australian and New Zealand peacekeepers seek out and arrest members of Reinado’s armed guerrilla forces. The major events leading up the near assassination of President Ramos-Horta unfolded almost as a Sydney University professor had predicted in 2006.
[Professor of Political Science] Tim Anderson [believed] that the Howard government [planned] to impose a "junta' on East Timor led by Horta and an ailing Gusmao, which would also include Catholic bishop nominees. [He explained that the] presence of occupying (Australian) troops till next year's election might seriously undermine Fretilin's dominant position [in the country’s political arena].[13]
It is very possible that the Australian government was keen to replace Mari Alkatiri who was educated and later spent 24 years in Mozambique during the height of Marxist Mozambican political policies followed by Samora Machal. In fact, Australian military forces blocked the visit of Xanana Gusmao (the current Prime Minister) to China to finalize a deal between Petro-China and the Timor Leste government.[14]

What about the hydrocarbons lying under the Timor Gap? Oil and gas continues to be extracted despite calls by the Timor Leste government for a preservation of its resource wealth for future generations and until it has developed the infrastructure to extract and distribute its wealth of black gold. Currently, Woodside Australian Energy and Shell have the right to 89% of the hydrocarbon wealth in the largest of the oil fields in the Timor Sea, the Greater Sunrise concession.[15] In order to placate the government of Timor Leste and to not draw international criticism, Australia has drawn up plans for a “major resource shift” that permits East Timor to receive 90% of the revenue drawn from the Join Petroleum Development Area – an area that falls outside of the largely contested Timor Sea oil fields.[16] The bone that Australia has thrown to the newborn nation will “…be worth about $3 billion over 15 years… [and will allow] the government to function after donors withdraw”.[17] Canberra sees the $3 billion concession to East Timor as enough; this, of course is despite the fact that legally a nation is entitled to full sovereignty over all of its resources no matter how small and unstable it may be. It is unbelievable that blatant exploitation in an UN-monitored state does not draw more attention from the international media.

In light of decades of calls for a New International Economic [World] Order (NIEO) for developing nations and the inclusion of NIEO demands into Kofi Annan’s UN-endorsed Millennium Development Goals (MDGs), it would seem impossible for Australia to strong-arm a state recently blessed by the international community out of its sovereign rights over its own resource wealth. Australia should not be seen to be the benevolent regional power guided by its lofty humanitarian ideals in East Timor; instead it should be seen as a resource-grabbing realpolitik-adhering power intent on benefiting from the instability and weakness of its neighbours. Sure, Australian forces did save the life of East Timor’s president. However, saving that life had more to do with ensuring Australia’s unhindered access to Timorese oil than a moral duty to save the life of a Nobel Peace Prize recipient.

[1] Background Note: Timor-Leste; US Department of State: Bureau of East Asian and Pacific Affairs; February 2008; http://www.state.gov/r/pa/ei/bgn/35878.htm.
[2] Ibid.
[3] Ibid.
[4] Ibid.
[5] SibyelleKazorek; Timor Sea Oil – A Question of Sovereignty; Green Left Online; May 4th, 2005; http://www.greenleft.org.au/2005/625/34780.
[6] Ibid.
[7] Analysis by Kalinga Seneviratne; EAST TIMOR: Australia – Peacekeeper or Petroleum Predator?; Inter Press Service News Agency; June 22, 2006; http://www.ipsnews.net/news.asp?idnews=33714
[8] Indonesia is, in fact, the world’s largest Muslim nation. Its population is growing rapidly as is the threat of home-sown fundamental Islamism.
[9] K. Seneviratne; EAST TIMOR: Australia – Peacekeeper or Petroleum Predator?
[10] Ibid.
[11] Ibid.
[12] NZ Government Shocked By Horta Shooting; NZ Herald; February 11th, 2008; http://www.nzherald.co.nz/section/2/story.cfm?c_id=2&objectid=10491807.
[13] K. Seneviratne; EAST TIMOR: Australia – Peacekeeper or Petroleum Predator?
[14] Ibid.
[15] Quinton Temby; Timor’s Tutorial in Oil Politics; Asia Times Online; May 21st, 2003; http://www.atimes.com/atimes/Southeast_Asia/EE21Ae06.html.
[16] Ibid.
[17] Ibid.

21st Century Strategies Lost Amid Poppies and Tribal Quarrels

2008-02-02T22:15:00.000-08:00

Afghanistan, long viewed as the step-child of the main arena of the Global War on Terror (Iraq), has recently resurfaced in the news as the Coalition forces, under the direction of the United States, struggle to eradicate the Taliban in the troubled provinces of Helmland, Kandahar, Paktia, Paktika, and Khost. Ask a random person on a street in St. Louis about the war in Afghanistan, and they will probably respond with a question; “didn’t we already win in Afghanistan?” The answer is a resounding no! Not only have we not won in Afghanistan, but Coalition progress is starting to erode in certain bellicose regions.

You might ask yourself what major malfunction is hampering progress in Afghanistan. The answer is surprisingly simple; history. Historically, Afghanistan has been a land of splintered tribal allegiances and competing ethnic/linguistic groups. The nation today is still divided into roughly seven different tribal groups. Instead of being tribes strictly in the European or African sense, the Afghani tribal breakdown is along linguistic and customary lines rather than physical and geographical ones.

The largest tribes in Afghanistan are the Pashto (Sunni) – they make up roughly 40% of the Afghan population – followed by the Tajiks (Sunni), Hazara (Shia), Uzbek (Sunni), Turkmen (Sunni), and an assortment of smaller tribal groups.[1] The Pashto, or Pashtuns, have held sway over Afghanistan since the mid 19th Century.[2] Despite the broader categorization of ‘Pashtun’, there are approximately 60 Pashtun tribes and over 400 sub-tribes that have spent the last several hundred years jockeying for power within their traditional regions.[3]

The Taliban have traditionally garnered their support from the Pashtun heartland, an area straddling the Afghanistan-Pakistan border. From the 10 million Pashtun in Afghanistan and the 14 million in Pakistan, the Taliban has quite large population from which to draw its forces.[4] Despite traditionally backing the Taliban, the Pashtun have their particular customs and mores that are diametrically opposed to the Shariah Law (Islamic religious law) the Taliban strictly enforces. The Pashtuns adhere to a code of Pushtanwali, a set of laws that establish obligations and social structure.
[Pashtunwali] contains sets of values pertaining to honor (namuz), solidarity (nang), hospitality, mutual support, shame and revenge which determines social order and individual responsibility. The defence of namuz, even unto death, is obligatory for every Pushtun.[5]
Despite the Pashtun adherance to Pushtanwali, a number of Pashtun tribes supported the Taliban’s ascension to power simply as a means of increasing their respective influence within the Pashtun tribal hierarchy.

Afghanistan, with its tribal upheavals and complexities, is not a coherent state in the western sense of the term. Instead it is a geographical location bound together by intricate tribal alliances and never-ending tribal warfare. A country carved up by tribal warlord-chieftains and resurgent Taliban forces equipped with borrowed Pashtun armies is a fierce enough place for any invading army – ask the long list of invaders from Alexander the Great, Genghis Khan, Her Majesty’s British Army, the Soviet Army, to the Coalition forces and NATO headed by the United States.

For the US Army to treat its Afghan embroilment as merely an intervention to correct a wayward state is to misinterpret history’s lessons. The fact that the most powerful nation in the world has sent its allies to quell the growing insurrection in the southern provinces is troubling to say the least. Merely relying on the ill-equipped British Army to sort out the unrest in Helmland is not going to work, just as asking the Germans to increase their commitment to an already floundering NATO deployment is not an effective military response to a strengthening Taliban. The Germans, who seemed to have paid attention in history class, informed the US that they were not willing to send more soldiers to Afghanistan.[6]

Instead, the US Army needs to insert a new page into its unconventional warfare textbook and figure out how to align Afghanistan’s Pashtuns, Tajiks, Hazaras, Uzbeks, and Turkmen into a workable coalition against encroaching Iranian and growing radical Sunni Muslim interests. Iran is working hard to hamper US efforts to pacify and unify Afghanistan while trying to bolster its Shia allies – the marginalized Hazara – against a resurgent Sunni Taliban.

The currently deteriorating situation is far from the un-winnable quagmire that dismantled the Soviet Army in 1989, but in order to route the Taliban resurge it will take added resilience from an already war-weary US public. The US military should use Afghan tribal intricacies against its totalitarian religious foe, the Taliban. The fact that the Taliban is still struggling to cement its foothold in the suspicious Pashtun tribal areas that display fierce adherence to Pushtanwali is something that the Coalition forces should exploit. Instead of approaching Afghan politics with Western concepts of morality and rights, military planners need to de-couple their entrenched Judeo-Christian concepts and concentrate of strategies of war.

If anything, the US military should embrace the tribal differences and customs and adapt individual policies towards each tribe that it seeks to win over. The battle for Afghanistan should not be a battle of weaponry, no matter high hi-tech and unbalanced the playing field. Instead it should be a battle for the hearts and minds of Afghan warlords. Sure, throw in some schools and roads here and there, but remember, the route to power in Afghanistan is not by winning over hearts and minds, it is centered in winning over tribal war-chieftains and their ragtag militias. In many cases, weaponry, land, and some visits from the Army Corps of Engineers can go a long way to win over Pashtun and Tajik chieftains. It is high time that the US Army decided which path to tread in Afghanistan; either put aside the moral complications and get tough, or get out and brace for more terrorist attacks in Western capitals.

[1] “Ethnicity and Tribe: Afghanistan,” Government Publications Access, Illinois Institute of Technology Paul V. Galvin Library, 14/01/2002, http://www.gl.iit.edu/govdocs/afghanistan/EthnicityAndTribe.html.
[2] Peter R. Blood, ed., “Ethnic Groups,” Afghanistan: A Country Study, Washington: GPO for the Library of Congress, 2001, http://countrystudies.us/afghanistan/38.htm.
[3] “In The Dark,” Afghanistan’s Tribal Complexity, The Economist Print Edition, Jan 31st, 2008, http://www.economist.com/world/asia/displaystory.cfm?story_id=10608929.
[4] Blood, Afghanistan: A Country Study.
[5] Ibid.
[6] See the article “Germans Reject US Troops Request,” http://edition.cnn.com/2008/WORLD/europe/02/01/germany.afghanistan/index.html.