PEACEKEEPING, PEACEMAKING AND PEACE-ENFORCEMENT:

THE U.S. ROLE IN THE NEW INTERNATIONAL ORDER

Donald M. Snow

February 1993
******

The views expressed in this report are those of the author

and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of

the Department of the Army, the Department of Defense, or the

U.S. Government. This report is approved for public release;

distribution unlimited. Portions may be quoted or represented

without permission, provided that a standard source credit line

is included.

******

Comments pertaining to this publication are invited and may

be forwarded to: Director, Strategic Studies Institute, U.S. Army

War College, Carlisle Barracks, PA 17013-5050. Comments also may

be conveyed by calling the Conference Organizer, Dr. Gary L.

Guertner, commercial (717) 245-3234 or DSN 242-3234. Copies of

this report may be obtained from the Publications and Production

Office by calling commercial (717) 245-4133, DSN 242-4133, FAX

(717) 245-3820, or via the internet at rummelr@carlisleemh2.army.mil.

******

All Strategic Studies Institute (SSI) monographs are loaded

on the Strategic Studies Institute Homepage for electronic

dissemination. SSI's Homepage address is: http://carlislewww.army.mil/usassi/.

******

This paper was originally presented at the U.S. Army War

College Fourth Annual Strategy Conference held February 24-25,

1993, with the assistance of the Office of Net Assessment. The

Strategic Studies Institute is pleased to publish the paper as

part of its Conference Series.
FOREWORD

The author of this study examines the bases of American

military participation in the array of Third World activities

falling under the general rubric of peacekeeping and

peace-enforcement. The relevance of this inquiry was underscored

by President Clinton in his Inaugural Address, when he added

situations where "the will and conscience of the international

community are defied" to traditional vital interests and as times

when American military force might be employed.

He begins by considering the major instances in the

post-cold war world where so-called humanitarian interventions

have occurred or may occur: the aftermath of the Persian Gulf

War, Somalia, and Bosnia and Herzegovina. The author then

examines the effects of these actions on the principle of

sovereignty. He next turns to the emerging roles of peacekeeping

and peace-enforcement and the conceptual and practical

differences between them, and concludes with some cautionary

lessons for the Army.

The Strategic Studies Institute is pleased to publish this

report as a reference not only for specialists on peacekeeping

and peace-enforcement, but also for those interested in the

operational art as it applies to future peacekeeping and

peace-enforcement operations.

JOHN W. MOUNTCASTLE

Colonel, U.S. Army

Director, Strategic Studies Institute
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF THE AUTHOR

DONALD M. SNOW is Professor of Political Science at the

University of Alabama. He previously served as Visiting

Professor of Political Science in the Army War College's

Department of National Security and Strategy, as Secretary of the

Navy Senior Research Fellow, and as Visiting Professor of

National Security Affairs at the Air Command and Staff College. 

Dr. Snow is the author of twelve books and over 30 articles and

book chapters.
PEACEKEEPING, PEACEMAKING AND PEACE-ENFORCEMENT:

THE U.S. ROLE IN THE NEW INTERNATIONAL ORDER

The search for the appropriate uses of military force in the

post-cold war international system has commenced. During the cold

war, the use of force by the major powers was tied clearly to

their political and ideological competition; deterrence of major

conflicts between them served the most fundamental national

interest, survival. Vital interests revolved around preventing

the other side from gaining undue influences in important places

such as the Persian Gulf.

The post-cold war system is not so simple. The order and

predictability of the cold war system have been replaced by the

disorder, even chaos, of the new order, what one observer has

called "the old world disorder in new configurations."1

East-West competition has evaporated and can no longer form the

anchor that tethers policy and strategy together. As Leslie H.

Gelb noted recently, the "old hawk-dove divide"2

 no longer serves

to inform where military action will and will not occur. No

alternative structure has taken its place. We are left instead

with vague entreaties that forces must serve the national

interest, and apparently innocuous but potentially precedential

and systemically upsetting notions of the "humanitarian use of

force"3 and "humanitarian intervention,"4 to mention two recent

designations.

Lacking a framework of where and when to use force to

provide guidance for "a more anarchical and competitive world

order,"5 both the United States and the world at large are forced

to consider situations on a case-by-case basis where the criteria

for evaluation are often vague. On a piecemeal basis, the United

States has mounted a post-Gulf War operation in Iraq (Operation

PROVIDE COMFORT/SOUTHERN WATCH) and in Somalia (RESTORE HOPE),

leading General Powell to conclude: "Peacekeeping and

humanitarian operations are a given."6 What--if anything--should

be done about ethno-religious fighting in Bosnia or

Nagorno-Karabakh? How much do we care about the Tamils in Sri

Lanka? What patterns, if any, are emerging?

The problem with ad hocracy, the only available method when

a framework is absent, is that the individual determinations may

form an unintended pattern that comes to constitute a set of de

facto principles of operation, a new set of rules of the game

that would not have been adopted through a conscious deliberative

process. The crises and responses of the early post-cold war

period suggest strongly this possibility unless clarifying

discussions and deliberations occur. PROVIDE COMFORT began this

new ad hocracy; inaction (or for that matter, action) in Bosnia

continues it; RESTORE HOPE compounds the confusion and widens the

controversy.

The purpose of this report is to make a modest contribution

to such a dialogue. It takes as its starting point the post-cold
war world's two most dramatic instances of armed conflict, the

Persian Gulf War and its aftermath and the struggle in Bosnia and

Herzegovina, in addition to the ongoing effort in Somalia. Each

is important because it was a major event that probably would not

have been allowed to occur during the cold war. More importantly,

the international action or inaction taken in each instance may

offer insights into the direction of the post-cold war system in

dealing with analogous situations.

The analysis then moves to the clear "new world order"

implications of the two cases: the operations in northern Iraq on

behalf of the Kurds min 1991 (Operation PROVIDE COMFORT) and in

southern Iraq in 1992 (Operation SOUTHERN WATCH), Operation

RESTORE HOPE in Somalia, and international activities on behalf

of the besieged Muslim population of Bosnia and Herzegovina.

Both operations in Iraq represent direct assaults on the

Westphalian principle of state sovereignty, defined as the

"supreme power of the state, exercised within its boundaries,

free from external interference."7

 Implicitly, each operation

promotes the contrary position that individuals and groups within

nation-states have international rights that in some cases (such

as atrocities against them) supersede the sovereign right to

govern and assert an international right to intervene in such

instances, an idea formally proclaimed by U.N. Secretary General

Boutros-Ghali under the principle of universal sovereignty:

"underlying the rights of the individual and the rights of

peoples is a dimension of universal sovereignty that resides in

all humanity and provides all peoples with legitimate involvement

in issues affecting the world as a whole."8 This is the

underlying concept for U.N. sanctions of efforts in Somalia, as

stated in Security Council Resolution 794. The resolution states,

in part, that "the magnitude of the human tragedy constitutes a

threat to international peace and security."9

In Bosnia and Herzegovina, the situation has not yet reached

that point; outside interference has not progressed beyond

actions common to the traditional order such as economic

sanctions, humanitarian relief (authorized on August 13, 1992 as

Security Council Resolution 771),10 and limited peacekeeping (the

United Nations Protection Force, UNPROFOR). None of these

challenges basic operating rules; if a more proactive step such

as peace-enforcement is contemplated or carried out, precedential

effects could occur.

The role of peacekeeping and peace-enforcement form the next

step in the analysis. In light of "the systematic transformation

of the United Nations into the chosen instrument for the

maintenance of peace"11 accompanying the end of its cold

war-induced paralysis, suddenly the world is rushing its troubles

to the world body. The Secretary General has issued his An Agenda

for Peace12 at the request of the Security Council. The document

suggests a greatly expanded U.N. role in peacekeeping,

peacemaking and peace-enforcement, an emphasis underscored by
former President Bush's September 13, 1992 speech to the United

Nations.13 It also reflects fundamental underestimation of what

is involved in such actions, as well as their effects on the

world order. Parallel efforts are being undertaken by the U.S.

Department of Defense to redefine and expand American

participation in this area; assessing and dealing with these

contingencies will undoubtedly extend to other executive agencies

involved in national security, such as the Department of State.

Depending on the worsening of the situation in Bosnia and

Herzegovina during winter 1992-93, dealing with this problem

could also become an early priority of the Clinton

administration. The outcome of the Somali effort will also have

an effect.

The Secretary General, as well as some discussants in the

United States, fail to distinguish adequately between

peacekeeping and peace-enforcement. Peacekeeping, a role the U.N.

has played over the years, is relatively straightforward and,

despite its difficulties, comparatively easy. Peacekeeping

involves monitoring and enforcing a cease-fire agreed to by two

or more former combatants. It proceeds in an atmosphere where

peace exists and where the former combatants minimally prefer

peace to continued war.

Peace-enforcement, as it is used by the Joint Staff, entails

the physical interposition of armed forces to separate ongoing

combatants to create a cease-fire that does not exist.

Boutros-Ghali, on the other hand, uses the term to refer to

actions to keep a cease-fire from being violated or to reinstate

a failed cease-fire.14 It is a subtle difference, but it does

imply the existence of some will for peace. The American version

more realistically portrays another, far more difficult matter.

By definition, in a situation for which peace-enforcement is a

potentially appropriate response, war and not peace describes the

situation, and one or more of the combatants prefer it that way.

This means that, unlike peacekeepers, peace enforcers are often

not welcomed by one or either side(s). Rather, they are active

fighters who must impose a cease-fire that is opposed by one or

both combatants; in the process, the neutrality that

distinguishes peacekeepers will most likely be lost. The Bosnian

Serbs would not view U.N. peacemaking forces lifting the siege at

Sarajevo and other Muslim-controlled cities as a welcome or

neutral act. Only the Muslims, with whom a de facto alliance

would be established, would welcome the intervention. As in

Somalia, the troops arrive "uninvited"15 by any government. Their

receptions will vary and likely will be unpredictable in advance.

A definitional note, expanded later in the report, needs to

be inserted here. The term peace-enforcement, which is becoming

the accepted definition for military efforts to impose peace, is

a misnomer given normal English usage of terms (enforcing peace

presumes peace exists). The U.N. has preempted the more

descriptive term peacemaking to mean diplomatic means to end

fighting (see later discussion),16 thereby creating the need for
an alternate term. Peace imposition or peace creation would be

descriptively preferable to peace-enforcement in this regard.

Boutros-Ghali, reflecting the difference in perspective noted

above, suggests "cease-fire enforcement"17 as a synonym. This

objection noted, peace-enforcement will be used here for the sake

of continuity.

Moreover, peace-enforcement is likely to involve the

violation of state sovereignty, particularly if the mission takes

place on the soil of the combatant who opposes peace and thus

does not invite the peace enforcers in. Had the Iraqis decided to

continue attacking the Kurds of the north or the Shiite

guerrillas of the south, peace-enforcement is exactly the role

the United States would now have adopted. Militarily, that may be

doable; unwrapping the political consequences may not be.

Similarly, the interposition of peace enforcers into Bosnia and

Herzegovina would have to be at the invitation of a rightful

government to avoid violating someone's sovereignty. Who is that

legal government? It depends on whose side you are on. In

Somalia, the decision was simplified by the absence of a

government.

All of this would have an academic air about it were it not

for the fact that the world is very full of situations with the

potential to resemble these two situations. The swath of land

from the Balkans to the Caspian Sea where ethnicity and religion

collided provides the most obvious examples where unleashed

neonationalism threatens to rear its ugly head. The same is true

of many areas of the Third World where multinationalism has been

suppressed since independence and where democratization may

result in more "ethnic cleansing" by the sword.

This may be the most difficult and fundamental set of

problems the new order will confront. If we overturn the

centrality of the rights of states at the expense of protecting

the rights of oppressed, even savaged, ethnic and other groups,

the system's menu will be very broad, the plate very full. In

such a world, the peace enforcer will be in much demand, the

instances of violence and atrocity many.

Even if we eschew the peace enforcer's role, we will not be

able to ignore the problems. It is yet one other reality of the

new world that global events, and especially atrocities, have

become tremendously transparent and visible thanks to global

television.18 Unable to ignore reality, we will be tempted to do

something by the horror of what we see: starving babies in

Somalia, detention camps in Bosnia and Herzegovina. This raises

the possibility--which goes beyond the scope of this report--that

global coverage of atrocious violence can create the public

perception of a vital interest (one worth fighting over) on

humanitarian grounds in situations where a more dispassionate,

abstract analysis would not suggest that intensity of interest. 

Given the pressures that seem to emerge, one can call this

temptation the "do something syndrome."
Faced with these realities, there is a compelling need to

come to grips with and to try to start fashioning an orderly

means of response to these kinds of situations. To deal with them

responsibly requires defining the situations and the

alternatives, tasks to which the remaining pages are devoted.

The Precedents: PROVIDE COMFORT/SOUTHERN WATCH, Bosnia and

Herzegovina, and Somalia.

Although the specific issues and dynamics underlying these

instances of international reactions to communal violence are

substantatively distinct, they bear enough in common as

challenges to the evolving order to be considered together. On

one hand, all three involved large-scale violence and atrocity by

one group within a country against other group(s), and violence

that was made dramatically public by Cable News Network (the

Kurdish refugee camps in Turkey) and the new Independent

Television Network (the Bosnian detention camps), and the

universal coverage of Somali suffering. Publicity has made it

impossible for the world to ignore the bloodshed, a likely

general reaction in the days before global television. On the

other hand, the crises appeared at the extremities of the area

stretching east from the Balkans across Asia minor into central

Asia where Islam and Christendom (as well as sects of both)

collided, leaving latent and simmering conflicts of similar

natures and dimensions. What is principally different is in the

international reaction to each: swift and effective succor for

the Kurds, much handwringing and little curative for the

Bosnians, and massive humanitarian aid for the Somalis.

Operation PROVIDE COMFORT seemed at first appearance to have

been little more than a footnote to the general Persian Gulf War,

a loose end in the implementation of the U.N. Security Council

cease-fire conditions contained in Resolution 687.19 The cause of

the problem, of course, lay in the conduct of the war itself. As

a tactical move during the air campaign against Iraq, President

Bush called on the Iraqi people on February 15, 1991 to rise and

"force Saddam, the dictator, to step aside."20 The

administration's motivations were probably mixed: the entreaty

was presumably aimed at "moderate" Sunni Iraqis, since the

administration opposed successful rebellions by either the

Kurdish or Shiite populations on the grounds that the result

could be three successor states to Iraq, none of which could

serve as a postwar counterweight to Iran. Additionally, any

rebellious activity in Baghdad could only undercut the

effectiveness of Iraq's resistance to the anticipated ground war,

thus protecting American lives.

The administration, of course, got the rebellion it did not

want, as both the Kurds and Shiites, presumably emboldened by

Bush's call, rose against the regime. When Saddam Hussein's army

was freed of the allied onslaught, it turned its largely intact

fury against the rebels. Iraqi helicopter gunships were unleashed
with particular effect against Kurdish villages in the Zagros

mountains, leading to widespread panic and rumors of genocide.21

In this situation, large numbers of Kurds fled their homes. Some

fled to Iran; the rest to the barren mountainsides of Turkey,

where CNN found them. Because he watched CNN avidly, President

Bush discovered them as well. When Secretary of State James Baker

returned from a hastily arranged and conducted visit to the camps

and reported that the scenes on television were only too real,

some reaction had to occur.

The options were not great. The Kurds could not just be left

where they were. Large numbers would die, and it would all be

chronicled on global television. The connection between Bush's

calls to overthrow Saddam and the situation was being realized,

meaning we were partly (if not wholly) to blame. Moreover, the

Turkish government, with a serious Kurdish minority problem of

its own, did not want them to stay and add to that problem. As a

NATO ally, the United States had to be sensitive to Turkish

sentiments.

But what to do? The first problem was alleviating the

disease and starvation that were killing mounting numbers of

Kurds daily. The response was U.N. Security Council Resolution

688,22 which empowered the provision of "humanitarian assistance"

to the Kurds by member nations and forbade Iraqi interference

with relief efforts. The United States responded with military

forces and supplies to implement that entreaty; Operation PROVIDE

COMFORT was born. The problem then became what to do for the

Kurds in the longer haul; they could not live on the mountainside

forever, and the Turks did not want them to stay. At the same

time, they feared the renewed wrath of Saddam Hussein if they

returned unprotected too much to leave.

The answer was to move them back into Iraq under the

protection of American (and other Gulf War allied) forces. The

method was to create an exclusion zone from which Iraqi troops

were barred and which would be guaranteed by allied military

might. The zone and the forces were a necessary mechanism to

convince wary Kurds to return home. The zone remains in effect

over a year and a half later and forms the base for an

increasingly autonomous Kurdistan that says it is not interested

in full independence but increasingly acts as if it is. Moreover,

the mood of independence has spread to the Kurds of Turkey, which

was one of the things the exclusion zone was supposed to

preclude.

The importance of the exclusion (or "security") zone, now

also in effect in Southern Iraq to protect the Shiites and

enforced by allied air rather than ground forces, is that its

existence and continuation are in direct violation of Iraqi

sovereignty. The United States has never indicated it considers

the areas as anything other than sovereign Iraqi territory nor

that its actions represent an advocacy of the rights of

individuals and groups over the rights of states. The United
States just maintains that the government of Iraq cannot exercise

its sovereign control of the population in the exclusion zones.

The decision, at least based on the public record, appears to

have been sheerly tactical (finding a way to get the Kurds to go

home); its potential implications are far broader.

The situation in Bosnia and Herzegovina offers parallels.

The problem began, of course, with the long-anticipated breakup

of Yugoslavia in the summer of 1991. Titoist policies of

population migration and intermixing created a federal structure

where some of the "republics" (notably Bosnia and Herzegovina)

were unnatural historical phenomena. Thus, as disintegration of

the country proceeded, religious/ethnic conflict emerged. It was

worst in Bosnia and Herzegovina, where three major

"nationalities" collided: the largely Roman Catholic Croatians,

the Greek Orthodox Serbians, and those who call their nationality

Muslim (most of whom are ethnic Serbs but do not think of

themselves that way).23

The result was panic that rapidly turned ugly and violent.

Croatian enclaves in Bosnia and Herzegovina sought to throw out

Serbs and Muslims, to set the scene to be attached to Croatia;

the Serbs did the same in parts of Croatia and especially in

Bosnia and Herzegovina, where they declared the existence of the

"Serbian Republic of Bosnia and Herzegovina." The Muslims, who

make up 40 percent of the original Bosnian population, are

fighting to maintain an independent Bosnia and Herzegovina. If

they are successful and if parts of Bosnia are cannibalized into

Serbia/Yugoslavia and Croatia, what is left would presumably

become the first Muslim-dominated state in modern Europe (a

prospect that some use as a rallying cry to avoid).

The ongoing sieges of Bosnian towns, the public symbol of

which has become Sarajevo, must be seen in this light. The

Bosnian Serbian policy of "ethnic cleansing"--which is

specifically condemned in Resolution 77124--seeks to exclude

non-Serbians (mostly Muslims but also Croats) from greater and

greater parts of Bosnia, thereby strengthening their claims that

the areas are Serbian and thus should be annexed to

Serbia/Yugoslavia. Croats are doing much the same to Serbs and

Muslims in parts of Bosnia they consider part of greater Croatia.

The method for "persuading" the Muslims to leave are the sieges,

ancient but repulsive methods to bring urban populations into

submission.

Like all other sieges in history, they are not pretty; the

Bosnian Serbian militias that surround the Muslim towns seek to

terrorize the civilian population and, ultimately, to starve them

out if necessary. Like all other sieges, they are cruel and

nasty. Unlike other sieges, these are on television; thus it is

impossible to ignore what is going on.

Just as the CNN pictures of the Turkish mountainsides forced

Western governments to respond, so have ITN transmissions from
Bosnia. Operation PROVIDE COMFORT had as its first stage the

airlifting of food, medicine and the like (humanitarian

assistance) to the Kurds, followed by the military intervention

that created and enforced the exclusion zone. The UNPROFOR

mission to Sarajevo is the equivalent of the first stage of the

PROVIDE COMFORT effort; to date, there has been no equivalent

second stage aimed at lifting the sieges.

Anarchy underlays the Somali crisis. The factions that

collectively were capable of overthrowing Siad Barre in early

1991 were individually too weak and fractured to form a

government to replace that which they had overturned. Instead,

the structure of government crumbled, and "armies" of young thugs

(the so-called "technicals") nominally loyal to one warlord or

another (the leading contenders being Generals Mohomad Farah

Aidid and Ali Mahdi Mohamed) took to the streets, terrorizing the

populace and stealing or ransoming most of the food supplies

intended for starving victims of long-term drought and civil

strife. As these interruptions created alarmingly steepening

death rates, the United States, under U.N. auspices as described

earlier, moved to break the cycle by imposing order to "create a

secure environment,"25 in President Bush's own words.

A parallel seems to exist between the Somalian and PROVIDE

COMFORT examples: both were apparently largely tactical decisions

reached to solve a current, concrete problem with little apparent

concern for the longer term strategic implications. As The New

York Times opined on the day Resolution 794 was adopted: "Thus

thousands of American troops are about to be committed to a

distant land, for ill-defined purposes, without real consultation

with Congress or President-elect Clinton, without serious debate

or even a semblance of executive leadership."26 In the obvious

immediacy of the situation, such concerns formed the minority.

When RESTORE HOPE is over and can be placed in greater context,

it may be a more important criticism.

Rights of States Versus Rights of Individuals and Groups.

If the two situations resemble one another in terms of

brutality and offensiveness, the reactions by the international

community to them varies dramatically: the second stage of active

intervention occurred in Iraq and Somalia; it has not in former

Yugoslavia.

The reason for the difference most commonly cited is the

enormously complicated nature of the violence in Bosnia and

Herzegovina and the consequent likely inability of outside

intervention to solve the problem. Former Yugoslavia was, after

all, one of the most artificial of nation-states, with multiple

nationalities speaking three different languages, employing two

different alphabets and confessing two sects of Christianity in

addition to Islam. The feuds that underlay the conflict go back

centuries, even millennia, and much of the animosity in the
current situation reflects the still felt wounds of World War II,

where large numbers of Croatians supported Germany while Serbs

formed the backbone of resistance to Nazi rule.

All of these things are true and relevant, and it is also

true that outside military force cannot address or solve any of

these problems, which are political and not military. The case

for nonintervention is thus grounded in the intractibility of the

situation. As Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Colin Powell

argued in a recent Foreign Affairs article, the reason for not

involving American troops in Bosnia and Herzegovina is that "the

use of force should be restricted to occasions where it can do

some good and where the good will outweigh the loss of lives and

other costs that will surely ensue."27 Bosnia does not pass that

test. The terms "Vietnam" and "quagmire" attach like glue to the

discussions of potential decisive military actions in the United

States. The inaction of both the North Atlantic Treaty

Organization and the European Community to a situation clearly

more important to them than to the United States provides mute

testimony to a similar conclusion.28 The Clausewitzian entreaty

that one must understand the nature of a war before becoming

engaged appears particularly relevant.

These assessments are both empirically correct and entirely

evasive of the real underlying importance of the violence in

Bosnia and Herzegovina to the rules of conduct of the new

international order. Alleviating the suffering by lifting the

sieges is the overwhelming problem from the vantage point of the

Bosnians. Whether this is practically attainable (can it be done

within the limits of the amounts of force people would devote to

it?), permanent or transitory (if wrested apart, would the

enemies just resume once the intervenors left?) are relevant

questions. Systemically, however, the real question is whether

the international response will extend or repudiate the precedent

set in Operations PROVIDE COMFORT, SOUTHERN WATCH and RESTORE

HOPE about the meaning of sovereignty in the post-cold war world.

Will Bosnia and Herzegovina reinforce the Westphalian order or

continue its erosion?

This issue is clear if rarely addressed directly. The

principle of state sovereignty extending from the notion that the

sovereign monarch has no one as his or her superior has underlaid

the international system for over 300 years. States possess

sovereignty over their territory and those who reside in that

territory, and no outside force has the right or jurisdiction to

interfere in the enforcement of that sovereignty. In practice, of

course, state sovereignty is never absolute. Small and weak

states, for instance, are infringed upon by stronger neighbors,

states voluntarily forfeit bits of their sovereignty to other

entities to insure things like orderly delivery of mail across

national borders. Economic interpenetration has greatly undercut

the practical control of national governments over their

economies.
The assaults on state sovereignty until recently have

largely been practical, not principled or fundamental. The

implicit challenge to state sovereignty in Iraq (it is implicit

because no government is trumpeting it as a matter of principle)

is a direct assault in principle to a state's sovereign right to

govern its territory.29 Implicitly, it asserts the notion of the

supremacy of the rights of individuals and groups within

countries when they are abused by their governments.

Boutros-Ghali embraces this principle and enshrines it, arguing

that "the centuries-old doctrine of absolute and exclusive

sovereignty no longer stands,"30 being replaced by the idea of

universal sovereignty. Even conservative columnist William Safire

joins the parade for "the new sovereignty" (a term he borrows

with acknowledgement from former Secretary of State George

Shultz). He asks: "When do the world's responsible leaders have a

right to intrude on what used to be an impenetrable

sovereignty?"31

The reason for this is abundantly clear. If states hew to

the notion that there is an international right to intervene in

other countries' affairs when there are perceived or real

violations of the rights of groups and individuals, then state

governments are also leaving themselves open to be intervened

against--to have their own sovereign territory compromised. It is

one thing for the United States to condemn Iraqi atrocities

against the Kurds and Shiites of that country; it is quite

another to extend that principle to, say, the right of South

Korea to have intervened in the Los Angeles riots of 1992 to

protect the rights of Korean-Americans who bore the brunt of much

of the rage evident in that tragedy.

It is because of the clear potential precedential nature of

Operations PROVIDE COMFORT, SOUTHERN WATCH and RESTORE HOPE that

no one in the American government is talking about the

intervention in those terms.32 As Operation DESERT STORM was

forming and the military action was being conducted, President

Bush argued that this was the first defining act of the "new

world order." When Operation PROVIDE COMFORT was extended to the

exclusion zones within Iraq, the rhetoric of new orders

disappeared; it was not a coincidence. A particularly cruel

Bosnian winter may force President Clinton to add implicit or

explicit imprimatur to this distinction. No principles have been

enunciated to justify Somalia beyond humanitarian concerns.

One must be very clear about what is involved here. The

action authorized by the United Nations first to remove Iraq from

Kuwait33 (the series of Security Council resolutions culminating

in 67834) and to provide humanitarian assistance to the Kurds

(Resolution 688) were Westphalian: DESERT STORM restored the

state sovereignty of Kuwait and stopped at that, and the

provision of humanitarian aid to the refugee Kurds posed no

challenge to Iraqi sovereignty.35 Only when the operation

extended to creating and maintaining the exclusion zones (an

action not sanctioned by the United Nations) was the principle of
the primacy of individuals and groups implicitly entered into the

equation.

The situation is parallel in Bosnia and Herzegovina. The

United Nations has acted to condemn Serbian actions (originally

through Resolution 770) through the imposition of economic

sanctions and the suspension of Yugoslav membership in the world

body, and it has sent peacekeepers into Bosnia to try to assure

that the humanitarian assistance it has called for (Resolution

771) reaches those for whom it is intended. These actions are,

once again, congruent with the Westphalian order. Resolutions 688

and 771 are parallel in this regard. They would extend the

challenge to that order represented in Iraq if outside forces

intervened and created something akin to an exclusion zone to

protect the beleaguered segments of the Bosnian population.

RESTORE HOPE, because it is authorized by the U.N., would appear

to expand the principle underlying PROVIDE COMFORT/SOUTHERN WATCH

from a unilateral (U.S.) to an international assertion.

To take decisive military action to end the violence in

Bosnia and Herzegovina would create a powerful theoretical and

practical statement about the rules of the new international

order. Theoretically, it would reinforce the movement away from

Westphalia to a much more circumscribed definition of state

sovereignty. Given the villainy that exists in large portions of

the world, that may be a desirable end. It is not, however, an

end that should be countenanced without serious and complete

acceptance of the consequences for all nation-states and the

pursuit of their interests.

At a practical level, the assertion of a duty, right, or

obligation to protect individuals and groups from the atrocious

behavior of their own governments, particularly in times of

internal war, redefines the purposes for which the international

community will use force in the future. Specifically, the role of

internationally derived force moves from the relatively passive

role of peacekeeping to the very arduous task of

peace-enforcement. The reaction to the violence in Bosnia and

Herzegovina suggests an implicit reluctance to adopt such a role.

The action in Somalia embraces that role. As The New York Times

columnist Lawrence L. Friedman recently argued: "if halting

starvation or upholding human rights are now legitimate criteria

for American intervention abroad, as compelling as protecting

traditional strategic interests, where does President-elect

Clinton draw the new red line?"36 It is vitally important that

such a determination, one way or the other, be made explicitly.

Peacekeeping and Peace-Enforcement.

In light of the apparently successful recent operations

legitimized through the United Nations, major efforts have

emerged to include multilateral efforts under the general rubric

of peacekeeping as it has evolved under U.N. auspices. The
backdrop of this interest is the emergence of ethno-religious and

nationalist conflicts in the former socialist world that roil the

tranquillity of the post-cold war peace.

Secretary Boutros-Ghali distinguishes three kinds of actions

that might be undertaken in the future. The first is preventive

diplomacy, defined as "action to prevent disputes from arising

between parties, to prevent existing disputes from escalating

into conflicts and to limit the spread of the latter when they

occur."37 Preventive diplomacy, in other words, occurs before

conflicting parties come to blows and seeks to avoid military

conflict.

His second category is peacemaking,38 by which he means

"action to bring hostile parties to agreement, essentially

through peaceful means such as those foreseen in Chapter VI" of

the U.N. Charter. These activities, which presumably occur while

fighting is ongoing, include the ability to investigate and to

make suggestions. Mediation, such as that conducted by former

U.S. Secretary of State Cyrus Vance in Yugoslavia, is an example

of peacemaking so defined.

This definition is too restrictive. First, it only deals

with the lowest end of possible actions that can be taken to deal

with warring combatants and to create peace. Second, states of

war, and especially internal wars fought over control of

government, are often not amenable to negotiated settlement.

Unless a situation is so deadlocked that both sides realize

continuation is futile, peacemaking so defined is unlikely to

succeed. Third, the prospect of failure is especially great in

highly intractable, bloody and visible situations such as Bosnia

and Herzegovina, where international public opinion (if such

exists in a literal sense) demands alleviation of suffering.

Moreover, the prospects for situations akin to Bosnia are great

in the future, and this form of peacemaking, or what might

alternatively be called diplomatic peacemaking, is unlikely to be

sufficiently robust to treat situations effectively (make peace).

For the truly desperate, intractable conflicts attendant to

the process of national self-determination currently occurring in

the former socialist (second) world and potentially in the Third

World as well, peace-enforcement as previously described (the

employment of military forces to create a cease-fire between

warring parties) is the more relevant concept and the one of

interest to the American (and other) military establishments.

This form, which might be designated as military

peacemaking, is synonymous with the American concept of

peace-enforcement and is clearly more difficult, if more

relevant. The problems with peace-enforcement are difficult for

at least four obvious and preliminary reasons, each of which

interact to make entrance into peace-enforcement an adventure to

be undertaken only with extreme caution. At this point, these

difficulties are introduced to illustrate the problems. The
differences between peacekeeping and peace-enforcement are

expanded in the next section.

First, there is the nature of the situations for which

military peacemaking may be deemed relevant. Normally, they will

reflect deep-seated animosities with historical, ethnic,

religious and other hatreds that layer upon one another as

countries are torn apart and regenerated. The problems that

underlay the violence that is to be suppressed are political and

ultimately solvable only through political agreements that cannot

be imposed by outsiders. Imposed cease-fires may be the

precondition to negotiate political settlements; since the

absence of ability or interest in negotiating is why fighting is

occurring, it is hard to know where effectively to enter and

break the vicious circle.

Second, the fact that peacemakers are needed suggests that

one or more opponents to conflict do not desire peace more than

the continuation of war. What this means is that the peacemakers

are likely to be unwelcome by some or all of those on whom they

seek to enforce peace. This certainly will make the peace

enforcer's job more difficult. Both (or all) of the combatants

may be attacking the peacemakers as well as one another; the

analogy to a policeman intervening in a domestic dispute may be

appropriate. It is not clear, for instance, that an international

peacemaking force sent to create a cease-fire in Bosnia and

Herzegovina would be greeted with anything but a hail of Serbian

bullets.

Third, peacemaking may require troops with some specialized

capabilities beyond those of peacekeepers, such as considerably

more offensive capability and more political sophistication to

recognize potential unintended effects of their actions. These

forces will presumably have to fight their way into the combat

zone and, in some cases, use force physically to separate the

combatants. As such, they will be called upon to engage in

offensive actions where mistaken action can worsen the situation.

Moreover, they will likely inflict and suffer casualties,

possibly making them less welcome and undercutting domestic

support back home for their activities. The requirements of the

Weinberger Doctrine39--to the degree its precepts remain

relevant--could well be challenged as operations unfold.

Quite obviously, these forces will have to be equipped and

trained differently, and they will have to be considerably larger

and more capable than conventional peacekeepers. To provide

competent peace enforcers will require special skills for the

troops (for instance, negotiating and foreign language

competence), and provision of adequate firepower and defensive

capability to protect themselves from hostile action by those

they seek to help. Given these factors, they must also be

prepared for a level of ingratitude from the target population of

which the Vietnam experience is only a faint reflection.
Moreover, peace-enforcement will be much more costly than

peacekeeping or diplomatic peacemaking. Certainly U.N. resources

are inadequate for such actions, which may explain why the

Secretary General adopts a much more modest and inexpensive

conception of peacemaking. Diplomatic peacemaking, in other

words, may be all the U.N. can undertake realistically. It will

thus fall to the participating peace enforcer nations to pick up

the tab: Out of whose budgets will the money come?

Fourth, peace-enforcement will not solve the underlying

problems in most areas of potential application. It may have been

possible in 1992 to impose a peace in Bosnia and Herzegovina

through the insertion of adequate force, but a cease-fire so

imposed would not address the underlying animosities. Since the

peace enforcers will eventually leave, the problems may simply

revert after their departure. Peace enforcers, in other words,

had better be prepared for disappointments after their part of

the operation is concluded. They may be able to create conditions

favorable for follow-on peacekeepers in some instances; in other

situations, they may not.40 Put another way, a short-term

objective--convoying food in Somalia--may be easily achievable. 

The long-term objective--a stable authority in that country--may

not be.

Boutros-Ghali adds peacekeeping, which he defines as "the

deployment of a United Nations presence in the field, hitherto

with the consent of all the parties concerned, involving United

Nations military and/or police personnel and frequently civilians

as well. Peace-keeping is a technique that expands the

possibility for both the prevention of conflict and the making of

peace."41

This definition expands the concept in a dangerous way.

Traditional peacekeeping was feasible because two conditions

adhered before peacekeepers were inserted: fighting had ceased,

and both or all parties preferred the presence of the

peacekeepers to their absence (the peacekeepers are invited

guests). Under those circumstances, the prototypical peacekeeper

arose: the lightly armed, defensively oriented observer force

that physically separated former combatants and observed their

adherence to the cease-fire while negotiations for peace

occurred.42

The danger is in thinking peacekeeping forces can be

inserted into peace-enforcement situations; that somehow the

situations represent a lineal extension of one another.

Peace-enforcement requires, as argued, very different forces

qualitatively and quantitatively than does peacekeeping. The

result of confusing roles and forces has been most evident in the

placing of the UNPROFOR peacekeepers in a war zone in Sarajevo,

where the peacekeepers were placed in a peace-enforcement

situation and have proven-- unsurprisingly--not to be up to a

task for which they are unprepared.
An Agenda for Peace adds the need to engage in peace

building, defined as "action to identify and support structures

which will tend to strengthen and solidify peace in order to

avoid a relapse into conflict."43 While this is certainly a

noncontroversial idea, in the context of Bosnia and

Herzegovina-like situations, finding such structures is likely to

be very difficult and, given that situations arise in places

suffering from some level of economic misery, expensive as well.

It is possible to rearrange these concepts and to array them

as tools applicable to various stages of conflict, as is done in

Table 1.

 Conflict Stages Tools

 Pre-War Preventive Diplomacy

 Wartime Diplomatic Peacemaking

 Peace-Enforcement/Military

 Peacemaking

 Post-War Peacekeeping

 Peace Building

Table 1. Stages of Conflict and Tools Available.

What is important about this array is understanding which 

tool is appropriate at what stage of conflict. The critical

threshold is between peace-enforcement and peacekeeping. It is

crucial to the evolution of multilateral efforts that the proper

distinctions and their implications for forces, situations, and

the like be understood.

Two critical variables are involved in these distinctions.

The first is the existence of peace (the lack of military

hostilities) and acceptance of these conditions by the

antagonists as desirable. When those conditions hold, then

peacekeeping and peace building may be possible at reasonable

cost. When peace is present but the desire for peace is

questionable, then preventive diplomacy or U.N.-defined

peace-enforcement are the applicable tools. When peace does not

exist, then the more arduous form of peace-enforcement is

relevant.

The second variable is the nature of the tool, military or

political, that can be effective. In simple Clausewitzian terms,

of course, all military or potentially military situations are

political in nature and the Liddell-Hart "better state of the

peace" is only achievable through political processes. In this

circumstance, military force is relevant as a condition to
facilitate political processes, not as a substitute for them.

Military force can act as a precondition for enduring peace

(short-term objective); it cannot create such a peace (long-term

objective).

Of the sequential activities, the polar ends are the most

overtly political: preventive diplomacy, diplomatic peacemaking,

and peace building. To repeat, both of these presuppose that

either war has not broken out or that it has been terminated. To

be effective, negotiated peace must be seen as preferable to war.

Peace-enforcement, on the other hand, occurs when combat is

ongoing and either or both sides prefers its continuation. The

insertion of forces to stop combat may be effective in making the

continuation of violence impossible; it cannot, in and of itself,

create the conditions for lasting peace, which involve the

political embrace of peace as more attractive than war. The

insertion of outside force may break the cycle of violence and

convince the combatants that resistance to the peace enforcers is

more painful than compliance to an imposed peace. Since these

conflicts are normal very deeply rooted and desperate, the shock

effect of outside force may prove to be no more than a respite

between rounds of fighting.

Peacekeeping versus Peace-Enforcement: Fundamental Distinctions.

The great danger in this entire area is to think of the five

categories of actions detailed in the preceding section as

representing something like a continuum, where movement from one

form of activity to another represents a quantitative rather than

qualitative progression. Moving from peacekeeping to peace

building may represent such a progression; the interval between

peacekeeping and peace-enforcement, on the other hand, makes a

fundamental, qualitative distinction.

The qualitative differences can be placed into four

admittedly overlapping categories, each with distinctive

subpoints. The first is environmental and refers to

characteristics "on the ground" when actions are being

contemplated. The second is contextual, referring to the

situation that would confront peacekeepers or peace enforcers

were they to be inserted. The third category, based on the first

and second, is the mission challenges that face forces inserted.

The final category is the compatibility of a mission with current

policy and strategy. As we shall see, the differences on each

dimension are stark.

Environment. The environment refers to the conditions that

exist at the time that a peacekeeping or peace-enforcement action

is contemplated. Two factors, each shockingly obvious but

fundamental in their import, stand out by means of contrast when

thinking about peacekeeping or peace enforcing operations.

First and most obvious is the existence of peace or war. In
a peacekeeping situation, peace (or at least the absence of war)

has been reestablished--a cease-fire is in place. This means that

the task before the peacekeepers is to maintain that peace. By

contrast, a peace enforcer contemplates a state of actual ongoing

combat; his task is to cause that combat to cease. The contrast

is fundamental.

Second, and flowing from the first, in a situation requiring

peace-enforcement, some--or possibly both or all--of the

combatants prefer the continuation of hostilities to their

cessation. Were this not the case, it would be true virtually by

definition that a cease-fire would exist that only required

monitoring--a peacekeeping environment. By contrast, peacekeepers

only enter a situation when all parties have agreed to a

cease-fire and where, implicitly or explicitly, they have agreed

that the absence of hostilities is preferable to the continuation

of combat.

Both of these environmental influences point to a basic

difference in the situation into which peacekeepers and peace

enforcers may be introduced. If peace enforcers are required, a

state of war exists and some or all prefer that situation to its

alternative, a cease-fire. In this situation, outside

intervention may well be ineffective.44 While obvious, this

contrast creates very different sets of problems for the

potential peacekeeper or peace enforcer.

Context. The context in which outside force is inserted

refers to the attitudes and conditions of the host groups or

countries where force may be inserted. At least three related

conditions stand out.

The first is whether the outside forces are invited or not.

In the case of peacekeepers, who operate on "the concept of

peaceful interposition of U.N. forces between the contenders,"45

they clearly are. If a cease-fire is in place and its

continuation is preferred to the reversion to war (an accepted

precondition for accepting a peacekeeping role), then it follows

that the peacekeeper becomes involved only if the invitation is

universal. By contrast, at least one of the parties in an active

combat situation for which peace-enforcement may be contemplated

does not want an outsider to come in and cause the fighting from

which it is presumably benefitting to end. More often than not,

it will be those who are losing--the Muslims in Bosnia, for

instance--who want peace to be created, not those who are

winning.

This leads directly to the second contextual point:

peacekeepers are welcome in the country (or between the

countries) in which they interposed; peace enforcers almost

certainly will not be welcomed by all, and in some cases their

mission may be opposed by all. Once again, this is true virtually

by definition for peacekeepers; a welcome reception is part and

parcel of the invitation they require before agreeing to be
introduced. The peace enforcer, by contrast, is being asked to

break up a fight that someone is enjoying. Like the policeman or

MP asked to break up a barroom brawl, his mission may be for the

greater good, but it is not likely to be appreciated by the

brawlers.

The third condition deals with the receptiveness of the

parties to peaceful political settlement of their differences. In

the case where a peacekeeping operation is envisaged, such a

sentiment is normally present, or at least a continuation of the

cease-fire is viewed as desirable. The peacekeepers have as a

primary mission, after all, the facilitation of a peace process

by keeping the former combatants apart.

The situation is altogether different for potential peace

enforcers. As noted, the continuing existence of warfare that

needs ending is clear evidence that at least one side prefers to

continue pursuing military rather than diplomatic solutions to

the differences which led to war in the first place; the struggle

is political at heart, if conducted militarily.46 As long as that

is the case, the outside peace enforcer is rather more likely to

be an irritant rather than a lubricant for the peace process.

The contextual elements define the receptivity of the

contestants to outside intervention by peacekeepers or peace

enforcers. For the peacekeeper, the environment is comparatively

benign; the peacekeeper is the invited guest of the participants

and is a positive part of the process of reconciliation. The

environment facing the peace enforcer, on the other hand, is

likely to be intensely hostile. By interposing themselves between

combatants who have not eschewed continuing violence, peace

enforcers will be an unwelcome addition by some or all

combatants. Any peace enforcer who expects the gratitude of those

he forces apart is likely in for a rude awakening.

Mission Challenges. The quality of the environment into

which the peacekeeper or peace enforcer is thrust will affect how

the mission will be conducted. The peacekeeper exists in the

comparatively benign atmosphere of welcomed peace; the peace

enforcer is an unwanted addition to a state of war. Those

conditions make a difference in how each can operate.

The first difference, suggested earlier, is in the neutral

or partisan role each adopts. Strict neutrality is one of the

hallmarks of the peacekeeper, and peacekeeping missions have

always brought in nonpartisan forces to carry on in a manner fair

to both sides. To act in any other manner would prejudice their

mission and run the risk of being disinvited by the side

perceiving unfairness.47

In all likelihood, peace-enforcement missions would

initially think of themselves as neutral as well. Such a

presumption could arise from the likely humanitarian underpinning

of such a mission ("our purpose is to alleviate human suffering")
or from the mistaken impression that peace-enforcement represents

a simple step on the continuum of international responses. This

kind of sentiment was expressed explicitly in a recent New York

Times editorial, which heralded the humanitarian aspect of an

effort but failed to appreciate the loss of neutrality the effort

would imply.48 It is the "do something syndrome" impulse in

action.

However noble peace enforcers may perceive themselves to be,

they will almost certainly not be so perceived by those they have

come to "save." The purpose of peace enforcers is to alter the

existing situation by ending combat and establishing peace. Since

peace is not universally desired (if it were, there would be no

need for the peace enforcers), this means altering the status quo

in a manner that has a negative effect on the interests of one or

more parties to the dispute. Those adversely affected can hardly

view the peace enforcer's actions as neutral in content. The

Americans in Somalia soon learned, for instance, that the

"technicals" came to view them as enemies.

A second difference has to do with the difficulty of

accomplishing the mission. Assuming that a peacekeeping force is

inserted into a true peacekeeping situation, its mission is

rather simple and straightforward; it is there for a well-defined

and generally supported mission. It is only when peacekeepers are

mistakenly put into a peace enforcing situation, as was done to

UNPROFOR, that the peacekeeper's task becomes untenable.

Peace-enforcement is likely to be much more difficult. The

underlying internal situations into which peace enforcers might

be thrust (e.g. Bosnia) are likely to be analogous to

insurgency-counterinsurgency scenarios, and the success of

outsiders in those "domestic" disputes is unimpressive at best.49

Such situations are intensely political, and military force is

rarely capable of political conversion, especially when those

wielding that force are outsiders. It is arguable that many of

the missions for which the peace-enforcement mechanism appears to

provide an option fall into the "too hard box," a judgment

certainly influencing outside assessments of Bosnia.

A third difference has to do with uniqueness and controversy

about the mission. Peacekeeping, of course, is a traditional and

accepted practice; the role of the "blue berets" has been well

established over time. The fact that there are currently about a

dozen of them in place is evidence of their legitimacy.

Such is hardly the case with peace-enforcement. Part of the

difference arises from the fact the even the idea of

peace-enforcement is brand new, a product of the post-cold war

world. Peace-enforcement was unthinkable in the cold war because

most wars pitted American- and Soviet-supported antagonists,

thereby stripping any shard of neutrality. We lack direct

experience with these kinds of actions. Moreover, to the extent

that such actions are taken to pry apart warring factions within
nations, they run afoul the valid charges of interference in the

sovereign affairs of nations. In the United Nations' experience,

the ONUC operation in the Belgian Congo/Zaire, where U.N.

peacekeepers became embroiled in thwarting the attempted

secession of Katanga Province, may provide the closest available

parallel. If so, it is an example that counsels caution.50

Boutros-Ghali himself suggests a parallel between Somalia and

ONUC.51

The fourth difference deals with the obviously different

forces one needs to conduct one or the other kind of operation.

For peacekeepers, the model is clear and well defined. The forces

can be relatively small, lightly armed, defensive in orientation,

essentially passively equipped and supported. Because of these

characteristics, they are also relatively inexpensive, which is

one reason they are attractive to the perpetually underfinanced

United Nations.

Peace enforcers will have to be quite different. They will

have to be combat troops, since they will be thrust into

conditions of war. They will require offensive orientation and

equipment to protect themselves in combat and to conduct

offensive missions. They will likely have to be bigger in size

and will require more logistical support than peacekeepers. As a

result, such operations will also be much more expensive, a

practical reason they are unlikely to be U.N. operations.

These challenges help define the attractiveness of the two

contrasting missions. If ease and likelihood of success are major

criteria by which attraction is measured, it is clear that

peacekeeping is more attractive than peace-enforcement. A final

way to look at the contrast, however, requires looking through

the lens of each activity in its relationship to existing policy

and strategy.

Policy and Strategy Compatibility. For Americans, both

peacekeeping and peace-enforcement represent relatively novel

missions. American forces have, of course, some modest experience

as peacekeepers (the Sinai mission), and should the Iraqi

government seek to reinstitute its violence toward the Kurds in

the "security zone" or the Shiites south of the 32nd Parallel, we

could quickly gain peace-enforcement experience as well.

These proposed missions bump differentially against

established policy and strategy. One way to look at the missions

is through the lenses of the Weinberger Doctrine and Chairman of

the Joint Chiefs of Staff Colin S. Powell's criteria for using

force. As example, General Powell recently raised the following

questions when contemplating force: "Is the political objective

we seek to achieve important, clearly defined and understood?

Have all other nonviolent policy means failed? Will military

force achieve the objective? At what cost? Have the gains and

risks been analyzed? How might the situation that we seek to

alter, once it is altered by force, develop further, and what
might be the consequences?"52 All are good questions to ask

about potential peace-enforcement missions. One might add a

question about short-term versus long-term objectives

achievement.

The Weinberger Doctrine suggests the need for vital

interests to be present before any action is contemplated (see

below), and that victory and popular support be reasonably

assured. Peacekeepers, by and large, are successful, and if

winning is not defined in militarily activist terms, unlikely

will violate public support. Peace-enforcement, on the other

hand, is likely to be unpopular if actions cannot be concluded

rapidly (and if the analogy to counterinsurgency holds, they

likely cannot)53 and sacrifices mount. The Powell entreaty that

maximum force be applied toward rapid conclusion of hostilities

is unlikely to be met in either mission. If the bottom line is

long-term success, both missions are questionable.

In addition to this, it is not at all clear that in most of

the situations where peacekeeping or peace-enforcement will be

appropriate that sufficiently vital American interests will be

involved to justify the application of force. In fact, it has

been argued that this situation will hardly ever involve American

vital interests.54 The passive, noncombative nature of

peacekeeping makes the absence of vital interests somewhat less

important, because, in a real sense, forces are not being sent to

war but to maintain peace. The absence of vital interests does

make a difference in peace-enforcement, because forces will be

sent into war to create peace. In that circumstance, the outcome

of the situation will have be justified in terms of vital

interests (the first criterion of the Weinberger Doctrine).

A third policy concern is what international principles will

be served by the two kinds of operations and whether the actions

are congruent with the principles the United States espouses. As

argued, American action in establishing the security zone in Iraq

is compatible with the promotion of the rights of individuals and

groups, even if this was not the underlying intention. Other

peace-enforcement actions, especially in the remnants of the

former Soviet Union and in the Third World, are likely to be

analogous. If this is the intent, then we should clearly

delineate that in policy, because it would represent a

fundamental shift. Peacekeeping, on the other hand, is a

traditional, Westphalian activity congruent with the supremacy of

the rights of states.

The fourth policy implication has to do with the continuing

salience of the United Nations as a primary conflict resolver in

American policy. With the veto gridlock broken in the U.N. in

1990 (the last time the veto was used in the Security Council),

the U.N. has become the legitimizing agent for international

change. Peacekeeping reinforces that legitimation;

peace-enforcement undercuts it.
There is both a principled and a practical reason why the

U.N. cannot be used as the instrument for peace-enforcement

except where peace is forced upon two sovereign nation-states at

war (which will be the exception). The matter of principle is the

U.N. Charter's adherence to the "sovereign equality" of its

members found in Article 2, Section 1.55 To authorize the use of

a peace-enforcement mission in, for instance, Bosnia, would force

the U.N. to amend or ignore its Charter. To suggest that it do so

would compromise and abuse the organization.

The second and practical reason is that any such action

would almost certainly be vetoed in the Security Council by those

states fearing a precedent that could justify peace-enforcement

missions in their own countries sometime in the future. The

former Soviet Union, represented by Russia, certainly is a

candidate for future peace-enforcement, as is the People's

Republic of China. Recognizing these difficulties is why PROVIDE

COMFORT was not legitimized by the U.N. and why the use of

military force in Bosnia (beyond peacekeepers) cannot be. Having

said that, the U.N. action in Somalia suggests that attitudes may

be changing to embrace "humanitarian intervention."56

This does not mean that potential peace-enforcement actions

cannot or will not be multilateral in nature. They may well be.

What it does mean is that the broad international sanction that

U.N. blessing provides will be absent from such actions. As we

learned in Somalia as well, U.S.-sponsored peace-enforcement may

be preferred by the parties involved to U.N. operations, oddly

enough on the grounds of neutrality and fairness.

This suggests a fifth policy and strategy implication, and

that is that this is such a new and unique use of military power

that there is little to shape or guide either policy or strategy

or to suggest when we should and should not avoid

peace-enforcement "opportunities." If, as suggested, there may be

a parallel with the U.N. Congo operation, then caution is

advised; most observers feel this was the most controversial

peacekeeping operation by the world body, and one whose actions

bordered on peace-enforcement. It is a case worth serious

reconsideration.

What this discussion suggests is that peacekeeping, while on

the margins of existing policy and strategy, violates little

existing orthodoxy. Peace-enforcement, on the other hand, opens

up several policy areas and may require significant political and

strategic, as well as operational, changes in the way the United

States does business.

Implications for the Army.

The movement toward a policy commitment embracing

peacekeeping and peace-enforcement remains in its infancy. It is

not at all clear that either civilian or military leaders have
fully explored the kinds of situations in which such a capability

would be used, the implications of varyingly aggressive

peacekeeping/peace-enforcement for the operation of the

international system, and even the global desirability of

attempting to pry apart warring factions within states or warring

states. With the policy end of the equation incomplete, so too

necessarily must the strategy and force implications remain

tentative and shadowy.

This suggests that this area remains a part--indeed possibly

even the signature--of the great uncertainty that marks

circumstances in the post-cold war environment. What we prepare

for depends vitally on what we want to prepare for, and that

requires an assessment of the world that we have not yet

completed.

With a new administration and a new party occupying the

White House, the policy answers that must drive strategy and

forces will not likely be resolved rapidly, and for that we can

probably be thankful. The new policy team that is being assembled

will have to confront the problem of peacekeeping and

peace-enforcement, but unless the evolving situation in Bosnia

and Herzegovina dictates an action during the winter, one can

hope that there will be adequate time to deliberate and form a

coherent, intelligent policy.

Because the policy questions are not totally resolved, it is

difficult to outline in any detail what a commitment one way or

the other to peacekeeping and peace-enforcement means for the

Army. If one assumes, however, that there will almost surely be

some commitment to the concept, then one can lay out at least

some tentative categories of implications. For present purposes,

four implications, sharing the common theme of the disjunction of

peacekeeping and peace-enforcement and traditional Army practice,

will be discussed.

The first implication is a rejoinder: Do not think of

peacekeeping and peace-enforcement either as an extension of what

the Army does or as parallel and compatible missions. The Army

has limited experience in peacekeeping, and could probably adapt

itself fairly easily to some expansion of that mission through an

increased emphasis and some modifications to procedures for

training military police (MPs). An expansion of the peacekeeping

role would require more emphasis in this area.57 The same is

hardly true for peace-enforcement.

As the preceding discussion has attempted to demonstrate,

peace-enforcement is likely to be very difficult and probably an

extremely frustrating activity. This is so because of the

political intractibility of the kinds of situations where

peace-enforcement will be an option. The military task of

disengagement will not be the hard part; adequately deadly and

well-aimed firepower could probably dislodge the various Serbian

militia units from the positions they use to strangle Bosnian
cities with reasonable ease. The problem is that the military

separation is only the first, tentative step toward the kind of

reconciliation that would allow peacekeeping to be the follow-on

to peace-enforcement. That requires political processes and will

for which military force is not clearly relevant. The Army's

preparation for the broader task is at least suspect.

Likewise, the two forms of activity are not part of any

continuum: Peace-enforcement is not simply peacekeeping that is a

little harder. There is a fundamental political and military

difference between the two. To engage in peace-enforcement in

essence requires deciding to go to war; peacekeeping does not.

Peace-enforcement requires physically going to war in a complex,

politically difficult environment; peacekeeping does not.

Peace-enforcement, in other words, is not business as usual

extended.

This leads to a second observation: A sizable commitment to

peace-enforcement requires abandonment of some post-Vietnam

dogma. Many of the situations for which peace enforcers will be

needed will be internal wars between factions within states whose

animosity is defined along historical, ethnic, linguistic,

religious grounds or some combination of those causes. The

schisms are likely to be deeply felt and strongly held. Using

outside force to "attack" those symptoms runs the very real

possibility of involvement in quagmires that policy has attempted

to avoid since Vietnam.

Two tenets are almost certain to be victimized in the

process. The first is the Weinberger Doctrine; all but the last

principle of six will probably be violated in a peace-enforcement

exercise: American vital interests will not be at stake; winning

will have an elusive meaning; political and military objectives

will be vague and subject to change; forces will be inappropriate

to the task; and public support will be quickly eroded. The only

principle upheld is likely that peace-enforcement will be the

option of last resort.

General Powell's principle of the massive and rapid

application of overwhelming force is also not relevant in a

peace-enforcement situation. When the situation is internal and

any action will have clear political implications for all

parties, considerable discretion and restraint will be necessary

in the application of force to avoid unintended and unfortunate

results. It would, for instance, be very difficult to apply the

principle of maximum force in Bosnia in a way that would not harm

all sides, including innocent bystanders, along the way.58

This leads to a third implication: Significant involvement

in peace-enforcement and peacekeeping operations will require the

Army to modify the way it does business. Once again, the extent

of the impact of this observation is much more pointed for

peace-enforcement than it is for peacekeepers. Peace-enforcement

will require some fairly basic changes in the way the Army
prepares for war.

Because peace-enforcement operations will occur in more

complex politico-military phenomena than normal operations, those

who carry them out will have to be correspondingly more

sophisticated than regular operators. Two aspects of this

sophistication stand out; there are probably others that

experience will ultimately reveal.

A first aspect of sophistication is that the peace enforcer

must understand that even the most tactical actions he takes (or

orders) may have enormous strategic and political implications.

Who is separated, how they are separated, and where separation

occurs in, say, a neighborhood, a town, or even a street can

affect local balances of power, and can implicitly align the

peace enforcer with one side or another to the dispute. The

average soldier clearing a town or lifting a siege does not have

to be concerned with such matters; the peace enforcer who does

not can change things without realizing what he is doing. In

peace-enforcement, everything is strategic.

This kind of distinction would not be important if the peace

enforcer's actions were openly partisan: helping one side or

another. That, however, is unlikely to be the case. Instances

consonant with the United Nations'/Joint Staff's definition of

peace-assisting activities form the conceptual, if not physical,

continuum of restoring or reinforcing peace. To do so will

require a strict neutrality toward the combatants if the purpose

is to reconcile the combatants into a willing peace rather than

imposing a peace (which will be the case). As argued, doing this

will be exceptionally difficult under the best of circumstances,

since almost any action will benefit one side at the expense of

the other. To march unprepared into a strategic maelstrom could

do enormous harm.

A second aspect of this sophistication is linguistic and

geopolitical. Because peace enforcers' actions at the small unit

level can have important strategic effects on situations, it will

be extremely important that, even at the small unit (platoon,

company?) level, someone be capable of communicating with the

inhabitants where operations are occurring. In a place like

Bosnia, where three separate languages are spoken, that is no

small task.

Geopolitically, many, if not most, peace enforcing

opportunities will occur in remote areas that have not been

geopolitically scrutinized in detail by the Army, or others in

government. How many Foreign Area Officers (FAOs), for instance,

does the Army possess with detailed expertise in the Caucasus

region, where instability is rife? Without detailed advice from

somewhere, will the Army make mistakes that geopolitical

expertise could have avoided? Would, for instance, the apparently

tactical decision to set up the security zones in Iraq have been

undertaken if the broader systemic consequences had been
thoroughly analyzed?

This leads to a third way in which the Army will have to do

business differently within peace enforcing operations. Because

of their heavily political content, these situations will require

more than just "jointness" within the armed services; they will

also require considerable interagency cooperation59 within the

Executive branch of government. Certainly overt cooperation

between the armed services and the State Department will be

required; how far the interagency net will have to extend will

vary with the individual situation. Where such operations will

find an eventual institutional "home" is also an interesting

concern. It is not clear that that base will be within the

Department of Defense.

This leads to a summary warning about entrance into this

whole business of peacekeeping, peace-enforcement and the like:

It is a very new enterprise to be examined and embraced only with

all due caution. Conceptually and practically, it is a potential

minefield into which one should enter tiptoeing lightly.

The caution is, of course, tempered by what kind of activity

one embraces in the conceptual continuum of activities.

Peacekeeping, where the conditions for success inhere, does not

represent a novel or conceptually radical form of activity, nor

does peacemaking defined as diplomatic activity. It is

peace-enforcement that represents the radical change.

We do lack critical direct experience with peace-enforcement

actions, and are uncertain what precedents may apply to guide

deliberations and actions. If there is any parallel suggested at

least by Bosnia, it is that the situations will be akin to

insurgency/counterinsurgency situations: warring internal

fracases where control of government or dismemberment of states

are the underlying conditions. Outside intervention into such

situations has a sufficiently questionable track record that, if

the analogy holds, suggests considerable caution.

A Glimpse into the Future.

This discussion is more than an academic exercise. Whether

the intrusiveness and potential precedent set by Operation

PROVIDE COMFORT/SOUTHERN WATCH and RESTORE HOPE or the feeble

hesitance surrounding the situation in Bosnia and Herzegovina are

the harbingers of the future matters considerably for the

international system in the post-cold war world. Essentially, the

difference is whether the new international system is

fundamentally different or not, and what will be the primary role

of military force in that order. Each is a matter of considerable

moment and not something into which we should enter without

pause. The ad hoc consideration of individual cases may find us,

in Kafkaesque terms, not merely peering into the abyss, but

finding ourselves in its midst.
The decision to use PROVIDE COMFORT/SOUTHERN WATCH or

RESTORE HOPE as precedents represents a direct, frontal assault

on the principle of state sovereignty unlike any of the informal

compromises that things like economic interdependence represents.

If the idea becomes widespread that there is a right and/or

obligation to intervene in internal affairs of nation-states to

relieve the suffering of individuals or groups, it is hard to

imagine non-cynical criteria for deciding where to intervene and

not to intervene. A powerful nation such as the United States may

not feel assaulted by the precedent (we can physically prevent

people from intervening in our affairs), but it is not clear how

others may deal with these situations. How, for instance, is

Russia to react when the analog to PROVIDE COMFORT is proposed

for parts of the Caucasus? In circumstances where we decide to

act, it will be in the role of peace enforcer, and we will be

promoting, at least implicitly, the rights of individuals and

groups over the sovereign rights of states.

We already know the answer to the question. The reason that

there was no direct U.N. sanction for the actions taken to create

the exclusion zones in Kurdistan and south of the 32nd parallel

in Iraq is because there is no international consensus favoring

such action as an international principle. In fact, to have

proposed such action would have revived the veto in the Security

Council. The reason is simple enough: both Russia (as heir to the

former Soviet seat) and China have situations within their former

or present borders that would meet the criteria for parallel

activity. In Somalia, the dimensions of human tragedy may simply

have overwhelmed geostrategic considerations or created a new

geostrategic reality of its own.

The second reason all this is important is that the

international plate of situations for which peace-enforcement

might be undertaken is very full indeed.60 Multinationalism and

potential irredentism are powerful forces throughout the

crumbling socialist and Third Worlds. As freedom and independence

of expression comingle with an increasingly transparent world,

the potential and temptation to become involved around the globe

will multiply.

The international system, and especially the American

people, are neither prepared for nor willing to support

widespread application of the PROVIDE COMFORT precedent, nor have

American officials shown overt enthusiasm for overthrowing the

Westphalian system and diluting American sovereignty in the

process. Such situations will occur mainly where American

interests are not directly involved and where public support will

be nonexistent, particularly when the body bags begin to come

home. These situations will be, to reiterate, complex,

intractable, and poorly understood by the American public and by

our responsible officials. If this sounds a bit like our approach

into Vietnam, the analogy is purposeful.
Vietnam spawned the Weinberger "doctrine" as a set of

criteria that should guide American response to crises and the

engagement of military force. The criteria were very conservative

and cautionary, which was and is appropriate. At the very base of

the criteria was the caution that American force requires the

Clausewitzian trinity of unity among the people, the government,

and the military. The inaction in Bosnia and Herzegovina--

especially because of the unlikelihood of decisive success of any

feasible military action--suggests a proper assessment of holding

that trinity intact. It should be applied across the board.

Is the new order different or not? It is clear that in many

ways it is not, but the potential impact of extending the

Operation PROVIDE COMFORT/SOUTHERN WATCH or RESTORE HOPE

precedents to the future could alter fundamentally that

assessment. There is, to repeat, no shortage of Bosnia-like

potential situations on the horizon. The conscious choices that

Americans and the international community generally make about

how these situations are handled will define the new order. There

will, thanks to the publicity created by global television, be

great temptations to try to alleviate, by the application of

military force, numerous situations, most of which cannot be

solved by the application of the sword.

Notes:

1. Irving Kristol, "After the War, What?" Wall Street

Journal, February 22, 1991, p. A10.

2. Leslie Gelb, "No More Hawks and Doves," The New York

Times (National Edition), October 8, 1992, p. A12.

3. Russell Watson, et. al., "It's Our Fight Now," Newsweek, December 14, 1992, p. 31.

4. "Do It Right in Somalia." The New York Times (National

Edition), December 1, 1992, p. A14.

5. William Pfaff, "Redefining World Power," Foreign Affairs, Vol. 70, No. 1, 1990/1991, p. 46.

6. Colin L. Powell, "U.S. Forces: Challenges Ahead," Foreign

Affairs, Vol. 71, No. 5, Winter 1992/93, p. 36.

7. Jack C. Plano and Milton Greenburg, The American

Political Dictionary, Ninth Edition, New York: Harcourt, Brace,

Jovanovitch, 1993, p. 25.

8. Boutros Boutros-Ghali, "Empowering the United Nations,"

Foreign Affairs Vol. 71, No. 5, Winter 1992/93, p. 99.

9. Watson, "It's Our Fight Now," p. 35.

10. Security Council S/RES/771, August 13, 1992, New York:
United Nations, 92-37972.

11. Frank Blodgett, "The Future of U.N. Peacekeeping,"

Washington Quarterly, Vol. 14, No. 1, Winter 1991, p. 212.

12. Boutros Boutros-Ghali, An Agenda for Peace: Preventive

Diplomacy, Peacemaking, and Peace-Keeping, New York: United

Nations, 1992.

13. Reprinted as George Bush, "Resolving Global Conflicts

and Disarmament: Building Economic Partnerships," in Vital

Speeches of the Day, Vol. 59, No. 1, October 15, 1992, pp. 2-5.

14. Boutros-Ghali, An Agenda for Peace, pp. 26-27.

15. Thomas L. Friedman, "In Somalia, New Criteria for U.S.

Role," The New York Times (National Edition), December 5, 1992,

p. 1.

16. Yezid Sayigh, Confronting the 1990s: Security in the

Developing World, Adelphi Papers No. 251, London: International

Institute for Strategic Studies, 1990, p. 16.

17. Boutros-Ghali, "Empowering the United Nations," pp.

93-94.

18. Kenneth H. Keller, "Science and Technology," in Nicholas

X. Rizopoulos, ed., Sea Changes: American Foreign Policy in a

World Transformed, New York: Council on Foreign Relations Press,

1990, p. 129.

19. Reprinted in Micah L. Sifry and Christopher Cerf, eds.,

The Gulf War: History, Documents, Opinions, New York: Random

House, 1991, pp. 155-156.

20. Strode Talbott, "Post-Victory Blues," Foreign Affairs, Vol. 71, No. 1, 1991/92, pp. 62-63.

21. Martin Indyk, "Watershed in the Middle East," Foreign

Affairs, Vol. 71, No. 1, 1991/92, p. 73.

22. Security Council S/RES/688, April 5, 1991, New York:

United Nations, 91-11134. See also Talbott, "Post-Victory Blues,"

p. 65.

23. Sayigh, Confronting the 1990s, p. 26.

24. Security Council Resolution 771 (1991), p. 1.

25. "Bush Talk on Somalia: We Must Do It Right," The New

York Times (National Edition), December 5, 1992, p. 4.

26. "Intervention in Somalia: White House and U.N. Muddy the

Mission," The New York Times (National Edition), December 4,
1992, p. A14.

27. Powell, "U.S. Forces," p. 40.

28. Stanley Hoffmann, "The Case for Leadership," Foreign

Policy, No. 81, Winter 1990, p. 29.

29. For a discussion, see Talbott, "Post-Victory Blues," p.

56.

30. Boutros-Ghali, "Empowering the United Nations," pp.

98-99.

31. William Safire, "Right to Intervene," The New York Times

(National Edition), November 30, 1992, p. A11.

32. For a general discussion of the role of human rights in

American foreign policy, see David Lewis Cingranelli, Ethics,

American Foreign Policy and the Third World, New York: St.

Martin's Press, 1993, pp. 172-186 and pp. 189-191.

33. For an overview, see Donald M. Snow, Distant Thunder:

Third World Conflict and the New International Order, New York:

St. Martin's Press, 1992, pp. 181-192.

34. Sifry and Cerf, eds., The Gulf War, pp. 155-156.

35. Talbott, "Post-Victory Blues," pp. 59, 69.

36. Friedman, "In Somalia," p. 1.

37. Boutros-Ghali, An Agenda for Peace, pp. 11-19.

38. Ibid., pp. 11, 20-27.

39. Fred Hartmann and Robert Wendzel, Defending America's

Security, Washington: Pergamon-Brassey's, 1988, pp. 314-315.

40. See Snow, Distant Thunder, pp. 130-135, for a discussion

of the differences.

41. Boutros-Ghali, An Agenda for Peace, pp. 11, 28-31.

42. For the characteristics of peacekeepers, see Blodgett,

"The Future of U.N. Peacekeeping," p. 209, and Brian Urquhart,

"Beyond the `Sheriff's Posse,'" Survival, Vol. 32, No. 3,

May/June 1990, p. 198.

43. Boutros-Ghali, An Agenda for Peace, pp. 11, 32-34.

44. Sir Robert Thompson, Make for the Hills: Memories of

Far-Eastern Wars, London: Lee Cooper, 1989, p. 204.

45. Blodgett, "The Future of U.N. Peacekeeping," p. 208.
46. Todd R. Greentree, The United States and the Politics of

Conflict in the Developing World, Washington, DC: U.S. Department

of State Center for the Study of Foreign Affairs, August 1990, p.

6.

47. For a comprehensive description, see Peacekeeper's

Handbook: International Peace Academy, New York: Pergamon Press,

1984.

48. "Save at Least Some Bosnians," The New York Times

(National Edition), November 25, 1992, p. A12.

49. For an overview, see Donald M. Snow, Third World

Conflict and American Response in the Post-Cold War World.

Carlisle Barracks, PA: Strategic Studies Institute, 1991.

50. For example, see Georges Abi-Saab, The United Nations

Operation in the Congo, 1960-1964, Oxford, U.K.: Oxford

University Press, 1978, and Major General Carl von Horn,

Soldiering for Peace, New York: David McKay Company, 1967.

51. Boutros-Ghali, "Empowering the United Nations," pp.

90-91.

52. Powell, "U.S. Forces," p. 38.

53. Greentree, The United States and the Politics of

Conflict in the Developing World, p. 36.

54. Ibid., p. 13.

55. Reprinted in Donald M. Snow, The Shape of the Future:

The Post-Cold War World, Armonk, New York: M E Sharpe, 1991, p.

213.

56. Charles Krauthammer, "Somalia: Doable, and Worthy,"

Tuscaloosa News, December 13, 1992, p. 11A.

57. Richard Szafranski, "Thinking about Small Wars,"

Parameters, Vol. 20, No. 3, September 1990, p. 44.

58. This warning is sounded in Greentree, The United States

and the Politics of Conflict in the Third World, p. 23.

59. Ibid., pp. 5, 40.

60. Sayigh, Confronting the 1990s, p. 10.
U.S. ARMY WAR COLLEGE

Major General General William A. Stofft

Commandant

*****

STRATEGIC STUDIES INSTITUTE

Director

Colonel John W. Mountcastle

Director of Research

Dr. Gary L. Guertner

Author

Dr. Donald M. Snow

Editor

Mrs. Marianne P. Cowling

Secretaries

Ms. Rita A. Rummel

*****

Composition

Mr. Daniel B. Barnett

Cover Artist

Mr. Lawrence C. Miller