In april, nato celebrates its 50th anniversary. The anniversary summit will welcome three new members-the Czech Republic, Hungary and Poland-and will announce a new strategy for the post-cold war era.
There are competing views about this new strategy. One view, dominant in Germany and central Europe, holds that Nato should stick to its old role of territorial defence against an external threat, presumably Russia. The second view, which prevails in the US, focuses on "asymmetric threats"-terrorists and "rogue states." Weaker enemies will discover inventive ways of threatening the west; from bombs in suitcases, to attacks on information systems and germ warfare. The way to counter such threats is through superior American technology and precision air strikes. The third view sees the main role for Nato as intervention in Kosovo-type contingencies. Britain's recent Defence Review is an expression of this view. It has started to reshape the British forces as peace enforcers.
Nato officials will tell you that all these roles are important; the debate is about relative emphasis. But there is a contradiction between the first two roles and the third role. The first two emphasise defence of territory against external attack. In a globalised world, however, it is difficult to insulate territory from conflicts in other parts of the world. Violence does not spread through military attack but through new types of transnational networks: gun runners, mafia groups, ethnic or religious networks and refugees. Territorial defence or air strikes cannot prevent this kind of violence and may exacerbate it.
Since the end of the cold war, the distinction between internal peace and external war, between a domestic rule of law and international anarchy that characterised the Westphalian era has broken down. In the developed world, military forces are becoming more interconnected through alliances such as Nato, through arms control agreements, joint peace-keeping forces-not to mention arms production. Apart from the US, individual countries no longer have the capacity to fight wars unilaterally. And the notion that unilateral aggression is contrary to international norms is now widely accepted.
But elsewhere military force is becoming more fragmented. In much of the developing world, a process is taking place which is almost the reverse of the process through which nation-states were created. Inter-state war helped to create nations, increasing their economic power and political legitimacy. Now, in post-colonial and post-communist states, the tax base is shrinking because of corruption and loss of legitimacy. The growth of crime and cutbacks in expenditure on security forces have led to a fragmentation and privatisation of military force.
Today, the main source of insecurity is no longer traditional interstate war but "new wars." These wars spill over borders and involve global actors: ethnic diasporas, mercenaries, transnational criminal groups, global media, international agencies. Such wars differ from traditional wars in three respects. First, they are about identity politics-that is, the exclusive claim to power on the basis of identity. This contrasts with the geo-political or ideological goals of earlier wars. Identity politics usually results from the collapse of post-colonial nation-building or socialism. The labels are often transnational, involving big diasporas: Canadian Croats, Irish Americans or Australian Greeks. And they involve a new type of political mobilisation, using television and videos to reach far-flung areas.
Second, the method of fighting has changed. Traditional wars were fought according to Clausewitzean principles: between opposing armies who fought decisive battles. The codification of the laws of war drew sharp distinctions between combatants and non-combatants; the latter were supposed to be kept out of war. These rules helped to legitimise the soldier and to make a distinction between killing for legitimate purposes and crime or terrorism. In the new wars, battle is avoided and violence is often directed against civilians. This goes back to the guerrilla strategies of the cold war era. Conspicuous atrocities, population displacement, burning homes, are all part of a strategy in which violations of the laws of war are not side-effects but the centrepiece of strategy.
Third, these new wars have a characteristic "informal" war economy. They generally take place in regions where economies are weak. The main source of finance is either external-outside patron states, diaspora support and the "taxation" of humanitarian aid-or through protection money, or trade in drugs and arms. All such finance depends on continued violence.
New wars generate political and economic vested interests in the perpetuation of violence. Extreme forms of identity politics can only be sustained in a context of fear. The warring parties depend on violence to sustain their revenues. Moreover, this type of violence has a tendency to spread; there are growing clusters of it in the Balkans, the Caucasus, central Asia, central Africa, the Horn of Africa and west Africa.
Traditional approaches to security do not work in new wars. Territorial defence cannot contain violence and can be counter-productive. The main threat from Russia is not external attack but implosion-the spread of Chechen-type violence alongside economic and political disintegration. And territorial defence aimed against Russia aids hardliners within Russia.
Emphasis on air strikes is even more problematic. It is often claimed that the air strikes in the final stages of the Bosnian war were crucial in forcing the Serbs to negotiate. This is questionable. Earlier air strikes had merely led to UN personnel being taken hostage. The endgame of the war, the Croatian capture of Serb-held territories in Croatia, the Serb capture of the eastern enclaves, except Goradze, and the lifting of the siege of Sarajevo were more important in bringing about a ceasefire. Air strikes usually increase support for extremist leaders and reduce the possibilities for an international presence on the ground.
The parallels between Iraq and Serbia are instructive. Both can be considered "rogue states." In both cases, the leaders pose threats to their own populations-Kosovans in Serbia or Shiites and Kurds in Iraq. The main effect of air strikes is to increase support for extremists, divide international opinion, provide an excuse for cracking down on the opposition and banishing international agencies. The air strikes in December on Iraq enabled Saddam Hussein to get rid of Unscom and provided a justification for executing opponents. The threat of air strikes against Serbia did result in an agreement for a cease-fire and the presence of unarmed verifiers in Kosovo, but it also hardened opinion in Serbia and provided an excuse for repression of the independent media and universities. It could be argued that air strikes actually help to ensure the continued existence of "rogue states," thereby providing a new "enemy" for the west.
So, how else can new wars be halted? Population exchange or partition merely lays the basis for continued war. The only answer is to try to moderate identity politics. Central to any international strategy towards new wars is the need to create a coalition of democrats and moderates who can offer a realistic alternative politics based on respect for diversity and the rule of law.
The problem is that democrats and moderates are marginalised in wars. War favours extremists. The best that can be hoped for is agreement on partition, as in Dayton or Oslo, which provides no long-term solution, although it may control violence. We need an international presence, both political and military, which can control violence and provide a framework for political alternatives. New concepts such as international protectorates or transitional authorities are required.
Since the second world war, there has been steady progress towards a global legal regime which deals both with the laws of war and with human rights, and which has been strengthened by bodies like Amnesty. The latest stage is the creation of the war crimes tribunals for ex-Yugoslavia and Rwanda and the decision to establish an international criminal court. The problem remains enforcement of this law.
Enter the new peace-keepers. Their tasks include protection of civilians (enforcement of havens), arrest of war criminals, implementation of cease-fires and overseeing public security. This is more robust than traditional peacekeeping, which involves the separation of sides and depends on the consent of the parties to an agreement. But it is less active than traditional war-fighting. War-fighting means taking sides; peace enforcement means controlling all illegitimate violence. Peace enforcers are impartial but not neutral because one side may violate international law more than the other-Serbs in Bosnia for example. In war-fighting, the aim is to minimise casualties on your side and to maximise casualties on the other side. In policing, the aim is to minimise all casualties.
This new form of peace enforcement requires reshaping armed forces, which the British have already begun, drawing on their experiences in Bosnia and Ireland. It also requires a rethink of what it means to be a soldier. Nations were based on the establishment of professional and conscript armies prepared to risk death for their country. If peace enforcement is to be legitimate, the lives of peace-keepers cannot be privileged over the lives of civilians. This requires a loyalty to abstract ideals in place of patriotism. Is this realistic? Risking death for one's territory is quite different from risking death for human rights. Many people argue that neither soldiers nor democratic publics are ready for the latter.
This view, however, is the result of a defunct ideology. Wars in the middle ages were about belief, not patriotism. The notion of dying for one's country, rather than, say, for religion, was constructed with the nation-state. A successful effort to control a new war or to arrest those who commit genocide could generate wide support. It is in unsuccessful wars, where the case for intervention is hard to justify and where soldiers do not feel like heroes-Vietnam or Afghanistan-that the public will not tolerate body bags.
Why not use mercenaries to enforce international law? If we are serious about peace enforcement we cannot depend on people or organisations with a vested interest in continued violence. Peace enforcers must operate within the laws of war and should feel themselves to be serving some higher ideal for a global public. Otherwise, they risk becoming just another warring party, as has happened to Ecomog forces in Sierra Leone.
What I am proposing has been described as benign or ethical imperialism. But it is required to underpin effective global institutions, just as interstate wars underpinned the creation of the nation-state. Political realists argue that this is utopian, imposing as it does a universalist concept of ethics. But the realist conception of security-the defence of territory-is no longer realistic in an interconnected globe. The alternative to benign imperialism is the spread of new wars.
What happens at the Washington summit will probably depend on what happens in Kosovo in the next few weeks. Will the international community send ground troops to enforce a ceasefire? Will Serbia be bombed? If it is the latter, the war in Kosovo is likely to spread. If the former approach is adopted, there is a chance to redirect Nato from defence of the west towards the upholding of international law.
