Late in the afternoon of August 19, 2003, a suicide bomber drove
to U.N. headquarters in central Baghdad. On the third floor of
those headquarters, I was sitting with Sergio Vieira de Mello,
the U.N. special representative in Iraq, and some senior members
of his staff . The human rights expert Arthur Helton and I were
there to investigate the human costs of the war in Iraq and its
aftermath.
As we talked, the bomber detonated his truckload of explosives.
They blew up beneath us, ripping the floor away, collapsing the
ceiling upon us and catapulting us down two floors. I have learned
that I was conscious after the bombing, that I spoke to a rescue
worker and that both my legs were amputated while I lay trapped
upside down in the rubble. I scarcely remember this. My first
clear memory is of waking up a month later in a hospital in Oxford,
England. Everyone else who had been in that room, including Helton
and de Mello, was killed.
This suicide bombing was not the only recent blatant attack
on humanitarian workers across the Islamic world. In June 2004,
five staff members of the international aid agency Doctors Without
Borders were murdered in northern Afghanistan. There was no legal
repercussion for the killers. The murders forced the group to
leave a country where it had operated continuously for 24 years
-- through Soviet invasion, Muslim guerrilla wars and repressive
Taliban rule. Late last year, militants abducted and murdered
the Irish-born Margaret Hassan, head of CARE International in
Iraq, despite the fact that she had lived in the country for 30
years, was married to an Iraqi, spoke Arabic and had converted
to Islam.
Shortly before Christmas I received an email from my friend
Toby Porter, the director of emergencies for Save the Children
U.K. He told me that two of his staff in the Sudanese province
of Darfur had been stopped by Janjaweed militia the day before,
pulled out of their car and murdered on the spot. As a consequence,
Porter said, "Save the Children U.K. had to immediately suspend
its operations in Darfur and withdraw its staff from the region,"
despite the fact that it had worked in Darfur for the past 20
years and provided essential aid and protection to approximately
250,000 children and family members.
The targeting of humanitarian workers demonstrates the perilous
nature of carrying out humanitarian work in areas of conflict.
It also serves to underscore the crisis faced today by the United
Nations and the non-governmental organizations (NGOs) that provide
humanitarian and development assistance. I will never forget the
parting words of Paul Bremer, the head of the Coalition Provisional
Authority in Baghdad, as he bade me farewell after my discussion
with him just prior to the suicide attack at the U.N. headquarters:
"The security situation is improving day by day. It is under control
now." He could not have been more wrong.
Not only was the United Nations' Baghdad headquarters attacked
later that afternoon, but during the following months the security
situation in Iraq went from bad to worse. The offices of friends
and colleagues working for major NGOs were targeted, leading to
their departure from Iraq. Other agencies severely scaled down
their activities, leaving their programs in the hands of Iraqi
national staff. The attacks on humanitarian workers have caused
the United Nations and many NGOs to question the future of humanitarianism,
particularly in conflict-ridden countries and violent post-war
settings. "Never, perhaps, has the mission of the United Nations
been more difficult and perilous than it is today," Secretary-General
Kofi Annan said recently. "But nor has it ever been more desperately
needed by the peoples it was created to serve."
Humanitarianism
in Crisis
Savage assaults on humanitarian aid staff have occurred against
the backdrop of some 50 ongoing wars across the globe today. In
the past decade, war has taken the lives of several million children.
Some 50 million people are homeless because of war or famine.
This is the world of contemporary humanitarian action.
A number of international agencies exist to respond to humanitarian
crises. Among these are the United Nations agencies specializing
in emergency relief, human rights, refugees, children, health
care, food aid and development. The international community also
looks for assistance from a vast number of NGOs, ranging from
large international agencies to small organizations working on
specific problems. As the implementing partners for the United
Nations and many governments, NGOs bear the brunt of delivering
food and providing shelter, water, sanitation and healthcare in
humanitarian emergencies. In recent years, particularly in such
countries as Afghanistan and Iraq, the military has played an
increasingly important role in delivering assistance and reconstructing
the infrastructure of war-torn countries. In addition, private
commercial companies such as Bechtel and Haliburton receive government
contracts for their reconstruction expertise and assistance. This
mix brings conflicts of interest, competition for resources, incompatible
organizational structures and cultures, and overlapping functions
to humanitarian operations.
In today's perilous environment, both U.N. and NGO workers are
considered "soft targets" by militant opposition groups. In Afghanistan
and Iraq, aid workers are attacked by forces that either do not
support the government or who see their interests and livelihood
best served by instability. Gillian Sandford, who trains journalists
in safety procedures for an NGO in Afghanistan, says, "Attackers
may be Taliban insurgents opposed to the presidential and parliamentary
electoral process. But violent incidents could also be inspired
by a commander who objects to NGO involvement in his area because
it tempts men to leave his militia for a life without the gun
or because instability best suits illicit opium production --
from which he gains revenue."
In very poor countries such as Afghanistan or the Congo, local
people resent the privileged living standards of Western aid workers
driving Range Rovers and Jeeps. Peter Walker, former head of emergencies
at the International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent
Societies, recently wrote that Iraqi militants murdered Margaret
Hassan to send "a crystal-clear message: It doesn't matter how
impartial, neutral or independent you are. It doesn't matter how
much the local community respects you. It doesn't matter how much
people trust you. Beyond reproach, you are still the enemy."
Background to the Current Crisis
The crisis currently facing humanitarian agencies is not new.
Throughout the 1980s, I visited many of the world's refugee hot
spots, including refugee camps along the Thai-Cambodian border,
the Afghan-Pakistan border and throughout Central America and
Mexico. At the time, I wrote, humanitarianism had become a political
tool. It was used to justify the arming of refugee camps in Thailand,
Pakistan and Honduras, and to aid insurgency in Nicaragua and
to suppress revolution in El Salvador. The military use of refugees
served the political and strategic interests of the United States.
The existence of "freedom fighters" symbolized popular rejection
of communist governments in these regions and legitimized the
resistance movements the United States was supporting through
humanitarian and military assistance.
In several visits to Thailand during the 1980s, I witnessed
intimidation, forced recruitment and the presence of arms in several
of the refugee camps strung out along the Thai-Cambodian border.
Some of these camps were controlled by the Khmer Rouge, which
had inflicted a terrible genocide on the Cambodian people. Other
camps were populated by supporters of the former Prince Norodom
Sihanouk. The United States, China, Thailand and others, in their
effort to overthrow the Vietnamese-controlled government in Phnom
Penh, gave generous military and economic assistance to both groups.
Cambodian refugees had become pawns in a political struggle that
directly involved the geopolitical interests of major powers.
In Honduras, traumatized refugees and aid workers told me that
contra commanders opposed to the Sandinista government in Nicaragua
freely entered refugee camps and openly recruited young Nicaraguan
refugee men into their armed forces. These camps were generously
assisted by the United States through the Honduran Red Cross and
conservative Protestant evangelical agencies that openly supported
the contras. By contrast, refugees in Salvadoran camps situated
along the Honduran-Salvadoran border received little or no American
aid because the refugees supported the Salvadoran rebels who were
trying to overthrow the U.S.-backed government in San Salvador.
This and other treatment of refugees across three continents
led me to conclude that any independence of the humanitarian "space"
on the landscape of politics among nations had mostly evaporated
by the mid-1980s.
During the post-Cold War world of the 1990s, humanitarian workers
with the United Nations and NGOs were in highly politicized and
militarized environments in the Balkans, West Africa, the African
Great Lakes region, the Caucasus and elsewhere. In the wake of
genocide in Rwanda in the mid 1990s, refugee camps in neighboring
Zaire were used as a base for guerrilla activities. At that time
de Mello was the U.N. refugee agency's chief troubleshooter. I
visited him in Geneva then and asked about the challenges confronting
the United Nations High Commission for Refugees in Zaire. He complained
that armed groups hid behind the humanitarian character of these
camps to recruit new insurgent forces among the disaffected, displaced
populations. "We are in an impossible situation. We face the dilemma
of whether to continue to assist everyone in the camps, including
the Hutu armed elements, or to pull out of Zaire." He also was
bitter about the U.N. Security Council's unwillingness to provide
troops to police the camps. "We feel very alone in the Great Lakes,"
de Mello said.
As one friend who struggled hard to get aid to desperate civilians
on both sides of the conflict in the Balkans told me at the time,
"Convoys carrying humanitarian assistance to Bosnians would be
targeted by Serb militias, and those transporting aid to Serb
civilians would be attacked by Bosnian militias. This proved to
be a disaster and placed humanitarian workers at considerable
risk." In the eyes of the local combatants, the United Nations
and many NGOs became closely identified with either one side or
the other and were targeted by militia forces. "What was needed,"
said my friend, "was a more forceful military intervention to
create a cease-fire in order to permit humanitarian assistance
to needy civilians on all sides of the conflict."
During the turbulent 1990s, physical attacks against U.N. and
international staff increased dramatically across the world. In
the 10 years between 1992 and 2002, more than 220 U.N. civilian
staff died as a result of malicious attacks. At least 265 people
were taken hostage while serving in U.N. operations. Humanitarian
aid workers were particularly susceptible to threats and violence.
In 1998, for the first time, more U.N. staff died providing emergency
relief than in peacekeeping operations.
The attack on the U.N. headquarters in Baghdad in August 2003
and on the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) offices
there a few weeks later brought a new and unprecedented degree
of anti-U.N. and anti-NGO hostility to the surface. Florian Westphal,
the ICRC's media representative, said at the time, "There's been
danger before, and unfortunately our colleagues have been killed
before, but now we face a threat that is global and which comes
from groups with whom we have no contact." In Iraq the United
Nations and NGOs quickly learned to their dismay and horror that
their humanitarian flags and symbols are no longer enough to provide
for their protection or for the protection of civilians caught
in the crossfire of conflict.
Today's Challenges
The United Nations is in a particularly difficult position. It
has the contradictory role of carrying out unpopular Security
Council resolutions (sanctions and interventions) while simultaneously
distributing humanitarian and reconstruction aid through its agencies.
When the United Nations returned to Baghdad immediately after
the military invasion in summer 2003, it was seen by many Iraqis
as having sided with the American- and British-led occupation.
A close aide to de Mello recently told me that when de Mello arrived
in Baghdad, the first question he was asked by Iraqi and Western
reporters was "whether the U.N. was acting as an American poodle."
NGOs generally enjoy more freedom of choice regarding humanitarian
action than the United Nations does. For most agencies, independence,
impartiality and neutrality are core principles governing their
operations. At the same time, however, many American NGOs rely
heavily on U.S. government funding.
Humanitarian action is a big business, with annual expenditures
of about $10 billion. Of this, an estimated $2.5 billion to $3
billion is managed by NGOs. In the past, governments transferred
resources directly to NGOs, which then prioritized needs and allocated
resources. Now the U.S. government earmarks most funding for specific
activities. NGOs must compete with others for resources, especially
private commercial firms and the U.S. military, which are rapidly
expanding their humanitarian portfolios. Consequently, most American
NGOs faced moral dilemmas in deciding whether to accept government
funding to carry out programs in Iraq. Some agencies believed
that to accept funds from and to cooperate with one of the belligerents
severely compromised their values and activities. Addressing American
NGOs before the war, the U.S. military command referred to NGOs
as a "force multiplier" for U.S. military and political objectives
in Iraq. Consequently, NGOs came under strong pressure to support
American policy in Iraq.
The International Rescue Committee, one of the oldest American
NGOs, had long internal debates about whether to go to Iraq under
these conditions. Some agencies felt that they had no choice but
to go to Iraq, because the humanitarian imperative to provide
assistance and protection to vulnerable people overrode all other
concerns. Charles MacCormack of Save the Children USA told the
press: "We want to be there to do the job we know how to do."
Others feared losing valuable government contracts to private
companies, which were in the aid business to make a profit. "Sitting
out a crisis such as Iraq has major institutional drawbacks,"
notes Larry Minear, a longtime analyst of humanitarianism and
war. In the end, most NGOs accepted U.S. government funding and
refrained from judgment on the war.
In recent years, the line between humanitarian activity and
military operations has increasingly blurred. During the past
18 months in Afghanistan, for example, U.S. soldiers have frequently
worn civilian clothing, carried guns and distributed food. While
the military may win "hearts and minds" by handing out food and
medicines, such activities sometimes double as intelligence-gathering
operations. As a result, humanitarian aid has become confused
with security and intelligence operations. This had led to the
perception that relief workers are an arm of the occupying forces
and therefore a legitimate target. For Jean-Michel Piedagnel of
Doctors Without Borders, humanitarian agency staff can be protected
from attack only if the roles of the military and humanitarian
organizations are clearly demarcated. "Independence from military
and political interests is not a luxury, it is essential," says
Piedagnel.
Charting a New Landscape
In these complex and dangerous situations, how can humanitarian
agencies restore a degree of independence and neutrality to their
work in settings like Iraq and Afghanistan?
First, a clear separation between military and humanitarian
aid activity is needed. Simply put, the military ought to provide
security for humanitarian organizations and help them get aid
where it needs to go -- and then take a back seat. The military
should concentrate on providing logistical help if NGOs require
it and then let NGOs deliver the aid to those in need.
There's a practical reason for this: The military does not have
the expertise in humanitarian assistance and reconstruction work,
particularly when compared to aid agencies that have decades of
experience working with local communities. Similarly, the U.N.
specialized agencies have been deeply involved in the temporary
administration of such war-torn countries as Cambodia, East Timor
and Kosovo. Dennis McNamara, who worked in all three countries
as a top U.N. administrator, says, "Given sufficient political
support and financial resources, the organization can make a real
difference in such settings. Schools and hospitals have been rebuilt,
refugees have returned home in large numbers, and elections have
been held. But most importantly none of these countries have relapsed
into full-scale civil war."
What the United Nations and NGOs need to do now is embark on
a long-term information campaign to address current negative perceptions
of partiality in their policies and programs. Peter Walker, a
veteran NGO aid worker, has pointed out that humanitarian agencies
are largely funded by the governments of industrialized countries,
their headquarters are primarily located in North America and
Europe, and they are staffed almost exclusively by people from
these countries. Among Islamic populations, it is not surprising
that humanitarian agencies are perceived to be part of the foreign
occupying powers and standard bearers for Western cultural and
religious values. He recently argued that if humanitarianism is
to survive, it must be reconstructed "as a truly global endeavor
. . . that resonates across all cultures."
It is also essential that humanitarian actors be more assertive
in establishing their integrity and in explaining their independence
from military and political actors. Reporting on a recent trip
to Iraq, Greg Hansen, a humanitarian practitioner, wrote, "We
have never explained who we are -- as humanitarians -- to the
Iraqis; we have never sought their acceptance nor their invitation
to operate in the country. We have never explained how we operate
and why we operate differently from the coalition forces or other
players." Some agencies in Iraq are trying to rectify this situation
by launching their own public information campaigns and distributing
leaflets at local mosques to explain to people the nature of their
relief activities.
NGOs need to take steps to nationalize the humanitarian enterprise.
In particular, Western NGOs should make it possible for local
people in the poorer countries to take ownership of the projects
started there. Such measures will help strengthen civil society
and institutions of governance in countries where central government
itself is weak or nonexistent.
The United Nations and NGOs also need to exhibit more fairness
in the way aid is distributed globally. Right now, most humanitarian
aid is voluntary and is designated for specific countries or activities
by Western donor countries. Humanitarian aid goes overwhelmingly
to high-profile emergencies in geopolitically important regions
of the world like Iraq or Afghanistan. Long-standing crises in
Africa and elsewhere are ignored. According to Oxfam's Jeremy
Hobbs, "In 2003, donors came up with nearly $3 billion for Iraq
relief, over $100 for every intended beneficiary. In comparison,
the U.N. appeal for the Congo garnered $25 per person, for Indonesia
barely $10." This disparity has led to widespread disaffection
in struggling countries about the lack of universality of humanitarianism
and to the perception that double standards exist regarding refugee
and other emergencies in poorer countries.
A Kenyan friend recently told me that many Africans think "the
West is rebuilding Iraq at the expense of efforts to stem poverty
and conflict in Africa." She says, with some anger, "An estimated
3 million people, mostly women and children, have died of hunger
and conflict in the Democratic Republic of the Congo during the
past decade -- a number far greater than the death toll in Iraq
or Afghanistan."
The recent spontaneous response to the Asian tsunami disaster
underscores the fact that many people in the West still support
humanitarian assistance that is both generous and non-political.
I hope this moment of global solidarity will be a turning point
in the relationship between the West and the developing world.
But the past record of responses to both natural and manmade disasters
worries me. Usually about half of what is pledged by governments
for assistance is actually delivered. Perhaps half of that will
reach the intended needy. I hope it will be different this time.
A good friend of mine at the United Nations, who has worked with
refugees and displaced people for more than 30 years, recently
told me, "What is required is to transform the recent incredible
groundswell of energy to support humanitarian action in the devastated
countries of the Indian Ocean into sustained action. The danger
is that once the media focuses on another story, this will become
yet another forgotten humanitarian crisis."
Finally, Edward Girardet, writing recently in the Christian
Science Monitor, underlines how important it is for the international
aid community to grapple with the security issues at hand in many
of the conflict zones in which they work. "Aid agencies need to
begin providing appropriate security training for their representatives"
as well as "better awareness of the situations in which they will
operate," he wrote. The ICRC, for example, requires all its field
staff to undergo two-weeks of awareness courses before working
in conflict zones. Governments can improve security for NGOs by
working toward establishing neutrality zones or humanitarian spheres
without the involvement of the military where aid agencies can
operate without fear of their workers being killed or kidnaped.
The bombing of the U.N. headquarters in Baghdad in August 2003
and the repeated killing of humanitarian aid workers in the months
since then has deprived the world of many dedicated and talented
international aid workers. It also has also damaged humanitarian
action worldwide. The United Nations and NGOs ignore these challenges
at their peril. They must choose between charting the new landscape
of humanitarianism or succumbing to it.
Gil Loescher is professor emeritus of political science at
Notre Dame and is currently senior research fellow at the University
of Oxford, United Kingdom.
(April 2005)
