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This chapter forms the conclusion of the paper, drawing out key points and setting them in a wider framework of analysis. I consider areas where the PRTs are effective and where they are unlikely to succeed; and finish with some general recommendations as to how decision-makers might continue to make use of the PRT model to improve security in future post-conflict environments.
Chapter 1 looked at the international shift in peacekeeping operations since the Cold war period. The commitment and vision of the US was seen to be crucial in guiding this process. I explained how specific incidents have shaped US peacekeeping policy and how these have dictated trends in the deployment and nature of peace support operations internationally.
As I went on to describe in Chapter 3, the agenda in Afghanistan has been very much led by the US since 11 September 2001. As leader of the coalition, the US has dominated discussions on security and reconstruction issues. Funds committed by the US dwarf allocations provided by other nations. Still, as seen in Chapter 4, financial and troop commitments to US PRTs appear to be insufficient to achieve their ambitious aims. How far then is the US prepared to go to create a secure Afghanistan? The PRTs have been described as 'security on the cheap' (Refugees International, 2003) by those sceptical of US commitment. A wider look at US military involvement in post-conflict situations may shed some light on the extent to which the Americans are willing to honour their rhetoric of commitment to longer-term security in Afghanistan.
US President Bush ran for election clearly stating his opposition to the use of American military forces for peacekeeping and nation-building purposes (Farer in Holagrafe and Keohane, 2003) (1). In line with this approach, Kaplan (2003) urges the Americans to be 'light and lethal' (p.77). He recommends 'economy of force - doing the most with the least', a winning formula, he goes on to explain which, 'has been an imperative of the US military, diplomatic, and intelligence communities since the beginning of the Cold War' (ibid., p.77).
However, in following this approach, the US has been accused by many of abandoning its responsibilities towards the Afghan people. Indeed, the Hague Conventions, the Geneva Conventions and their Additional Protocols specify an obligation on warring parties and occupying forces to provide for humanitarian needs, keep order and sustain or rebuild civil administrations. Referring to precedents set at the end of the Second World War and during and after the Korean War, Gordenker and Weiss (1991) explain that: 'As military actions cause so much human distress, it would accord with a venerable moral and legal imperative to look to armed forces for at least some remedy. In fact, as some conflicts have receded, armed forces have been ordered to assist in reviving civilian society' (p.1).
Jennings (2003), comparing the lessons learnt from post-war interventions in Germany, Japan and Afghanistan, states that US inadequacy in this regard is not due to a lack of experience. 'What has been missing', he writes, 'is not knowledge but perceived self-interest, political will, and attention span' (p.5). He concludes that whilst US doctrine of military engagement has evolved to adapt to modern conflict, commitments and capacities to stabilise and transform post-conflict societies have been sorely neglected (ibid., p.5).
In the midst of its 'war on terror', the US would do well to recognise its responsibilities in Afghanistan - if only in the ultimate interests of its own national security (Marten, 2002, p.36). An emphasis on economy could result in compromised sustainability of longer-term security. But those responsibilities will not come cheap, either in terms of time or resources. In contrast to Kaplan's (2003) 'light and lethal' approach, Ignatieff (2003) suggests that history has shown nation-building to be a slow process. This is no time to cut costs and look for an early way out of Afghanistan. Ignatieff warns that:
'Washington had better decide what it wants. If it won't sustain and increase its military presence here, the other internationals will start heading for the exit. If that occurs, there is little to stop Afghanistan from becoming, once again, the terror and heroin capital of the world' (ibid: p.107).
US emphasis remains on fighting the war rather than securing the peace in Afghanistan. The scale of the peace effort, in the form of the PRTs, is poor in relation to continuing efforts to eliminate the Taliban and al-Qaida. In drawing lessons from military intervention in Kosovo, Chomsky (1999) recalls Tacitus' famous description of the Roman Empire. 'Brigands of the world', he mused, 'they create a desolation and call it peace' (p.16). With security on a downward spiral in Afghanistan, and the PRTs as the only concrete demonstration of the international community's commitment outside of Kabul to peacebuilding and security, Tacitus' words appear to ring sadly true in the current context of Afghanistan.
Scale of support is not everything however, and there are elements of the PRTs which I would consider to be a step in the right direction. Their wide interpretation of security, beyond a narrow, purely military definition, is a welcome progression. The PRTs embody an awareness that efforts to improve stability and security must include initiatives to improve the social fabric of the post-conflict environment as well as simply safeguarding local populations from immediate attack. The links that the PRTs forge between their military presence, a focus on the reconstruction process and an emphasis on liaison and dialogue between powerholders is evidence of a more holistic approach to security.
In this respect, the PRTs appear to have an enlightened perception of the wider concept of human security - recognising the inter-related and interconnected dynamics of peace (Richmond, 2002). This, I would argue, is an important step forward. The civilian and military mix of personnel within the PRTs - involving military, development and political government departments - illustrates in itself a comprehensive approach, with security 'defined in the broadest of manners, covering strategic, social, economic, cultural and environmental issues' (ibid.: p.36).
This reconceptualisation of security is in line with ongoing debates giving new definition to the concept of human security. UNDP's Human Development Report (1994) provides the most coherent articulation of this broad interpretation. The report argues that the concept of security should be perceived in terms of people rather than states and framed around the concerns that those people experience in their daily lives (Hampson et al; 2002, p.6). Seven categories are identified as representing the main threats to human security: 'economic security, food security, health security, environmental security, personal security, community security' and 'political security' (UNDP, 1994, p.24). Within these different elements there are 'considerable links and overlaps. A threat to one element of human security is likely to travel - like an angry typhoon - to all forms of human security' (ibid., p.33).
Strategies to address such a broad conceptualisation of security require a merging of traditional security, development and political instruments. In Duffield's (2001) discussion of the 'new development - security terrain', he describes the 'strategic complexes' of actors - 'state-non-state, military-civilian and public-private' - 'pursuing a radical agenda of social transformation in the interests of global stability' (p.12). Underdevelopment has become dangerous, with poverty, competition for resources and poor governance structures often at the root of conflict. Development and security have therefore become interdependent, since 'development is ultimately impossible without stability and, at the same time, security is not sustainable without development' (ibid., p.16).
This merging of concepts has become widely accepted amongst development practitioners. The UN's Millennium Report (2000) identifies the inter-related objectives of 'freedom from want' and 'freedom from fear' as among its central challenges for the new century. It claims that 'we now think of security less as defending territory, more in terms of protecting people'; and recommends that 'the best way to prevent (conflicts) is to promote healthy and balanced economic development, combined with human rights, minority rights and political arrangements in which all groups are fairly represented' (ibid.). Similarly, the World Bank's Voices of the Poor project emphasises the holistic nature of human well-being and describes security as 'stability and continuity of livelihood, predictability of relationships, feeling safe and belonging to a social group' (Narayan et al, 2000, chapter 8).
Issues of conflict prevention and security sector reform have rapidly moved up the development agenda in recent years. UN agencies, NGOs, multilateral organisations and donors (2) alike have incorporated issues of security and conflict into their institutional discourse. What the PRTs demonstrate, perhaps, is that this wider interpretation of security - and hence the need to merge disciplines to tackle the root causes of insecurity - is beginning to have an influence on military circles too. According to the UK government's rationale, 'PRTs will improve security in the regions which will allow important reconstruction and development work to continue' (DFID internal document, 2003). At the same time, efforts to stimulate the reconstruction effort are seen as an important means of 'facilitating the development of a stable and secure environment in the Afghan regions' (ibid.).
There are few who would disagree with this interconnected conceptual approach. Political processes in Afghanistan are about ensuring participation for the population, whereby Afghans are allowed the right to live in safety, free from poverty, and with clear access to channels for justice and retribution. Members of the humanitarian and development community in Afghanistan claim that without any significant improvement in the security situation, the reconstruction process is unlikely to make serious headway (Marsden, 2003, p.103). In turn, they echo the rhetoric of the PRTs by predicting that frustration at the lack of any tangible evidence of the reconstruction effort is likely to fuel even greater instability and insecurity (CARE, 2003b, p.6). The ease with which a warlord can recruit militia forces in Afghanistan, due to a desperate lack of alternative livelihood options, including credible opportunities for regularised soldiers (Rubin, 2002, p.154); or the failure of successive attempts to eliminate the poppy crop, thanks again to a lack of government enforcement capacity and the dearth of legitimate economic activities (ibid., p.154; Rasanayagam, 2003, pp.263-264), are just two examples of the interconnectedness of security, development and politics in Afghanistan, and of the need for a joined-up approach to address these overlapping problems.
Where this harmony in thinking begins to disintegrate is when discussions turn to who should do what. Whilst I would commend the PRTs for their embodiment of a broader concept of human security, I would urge modesty in considering their ability to do much alone to affect the complex web of problems.
The challenges in Afghanistan are vast. Extensive efforts are needed to address the social and economic well-being of the Afghan population, to begin the process of establishing accountable justice and reconciliation mechanisms, and to build a transparent and self-functioning government. The military component is but one element that must be brought into play to begin to establish a secure Afghanistan. There is plenty for soldiers to do. They can concentrate on controlling belligerents, protecting populations, or safeguarding key individuals, infrastructure and institutions, for example (CSIS et al, 2002, pp.4-8). In so doing they would help to insulate the central administration from antagonistic factional forces (Rubin, 2002, p.156). By temporarily containing violence, a military force could make a valuable contribution by allowing other actors the space to step in in search of more permanent solutions (Stofft et al, 1994, p.13). This limited role need not represent a return to first generation peacekeeping. Accompanied by a well-functioning CIMIC component, and with an enhanced understanding of the crucial role that other actors have to play in a multi-disciplined arena, the PRTs would have come a long way since their Cold War predecessors.
Crucially, the military would do well to simultaneously recognise their own limitations as well as their strengths and those of other actors. A whole host of civilian actors possess comparative advantage in addressing the wide range of post-conflict needs in Afghanistan. Straying too far from their own skills base not only potentially jeopardises the work of civilian agencies, but risks missing a critical opportunity for the military to step in where they are most needed. Narrowing their focus to the protection of local populations from violence is a job that only the military can do, until such time as a national army is recruited and trained to step in. (3)
There are convincing arguments for military involvement in humanitarian programmes, as set out in Chapter 2, and soldiers have accumulatively acquired a degree of competency in responding to a limited range of emergency needs. But the situation in Afghanistan is complex, with a shifting emphasis from the provision of humanitarian aid to recovery and now on to development assistance. This is less familiar territory for the military. Finding themselves surrounded by development actors speaking a whole new language - that of community-based programming, participatory planning, sustainability and poverty reduction - they appear to be at sea, unable to apply lessons learnt in previous working environments to the fragile post-conflict arena of Afghanistan.
The approach taken by the UK-led PRT in northern Afghanistan displays some sense of the various components playing to their strengths and doing so in as complimentary a fashion as possible. Even with their new, improved approach to the PRTs, however, the British lack sufficient military presence and visibility to serve as a realistic deterrent to peacespoilers. Fifty to seventy soldiers in an area of operation the size of Scotland (DFID internal document, 2003) could hardly be described as an overwhelming force. Nor, realistically, could it even be described as a credible visible presence. And here I return to where I began in this chapter. Without the commitment of nations to provide the forces and necessary resources to enforce peace when necessary - or at least appear capable of enforcing peace - the PRTs are left sadly impotent in achieving their goal of increasing security and stability in Afghanistan. In the case of the US, they may even make the situation worse by jeopardising the security of civilian actors operating in the area. Furthermore, any progress they do make in strengthening the credibility and power of the central authorities is likely to be compromised by their continuing practice of arming and supporting factional leaders. At best, in the case of the UK, they may indeed make some minor progress in reforming and improving the security sector locally, but only by tinkering at the margins of a much larger problem - one which they are incapable of truly influencing without more substantial backing.
The disconnect between what is needed and what is being provided by the PRTs leads me to conclude that decision-making processes have been predominantly resource-led rather than needs-driven. Security is clearly a serious concern in Afghanistan - the major concern above all others (Johnson et al, 2003, p.5). But resources are stretched for those with the responsibility to respond. Working with a limited availability of soldiers and the reality of tight budgets the coalition nations appear to be looking for cheap ways of achieving ambitious objectives.
Looking to the future, one wonders whether the model of the PRT in Afghanistan is likely to resurface elsewhere in other post-conflict environments. Iraq for example, or even Liberia at some later date? There is certainly a good deal of speculation on this point. O'Brien and Stapleton (2003) warn their fellow NGO colleagues that they 'cannot afford to just ignore what is taking place or pretend that it is a one-off experiment that will just go away' (p.13). If, as some imagine, the Afghanistan PRT model is to serve as a blueprint for military humanitarianism (ibid., p.13) elsewhere, then it is worth drawing out some final conclusions from the current example.
If I was to pick out one key criticism of the PRTs above all others, for the sake of future planning, I would focus on their lack of clarity in defining strategic objectives. Their operational blunders, it seems to me, spring from the confusion that abounds as to exactly what the PRTs are there to do. Their size, geographic location and impartial personality prevent them from effectively doing what is really needed ie. providing a secure and safe environment to allow the political and reconstruction processes the space and time they need to make progress. In lieu of this straightforward security focus, the PRTs have turned their attention to the reconstruction effort.
Perhaps the time has come for the PRTs to decide who they are and what they are there to do. If the task is security then send in the soldiers and do it properly. If reconstruction is the central aim then take the lead role from the military and pass it to those better qualified to make a contribution. Civil and military actors can continue to work together in a comprehensive effort to build peace, but each should play to their strengths and realise the boundaries of their capabilities.
PRTs are not a lost cause, however, and the model should not be written-off entirely. As already set out, I see some positive characteristics within the PRT concept. With a better understanding of where they fit within a larger cast - as catalysts for a more secure environment - PRTs may indeed have something to offer. The civilian assistance community would also do well to recognise the potential of the PRTs. Constructive engagement with the military, rather than stubborn adherence to a strict isolationist position, may help the PRTs to eventually clarify their objectives and define their role more clearly in relation to civilian actors.
Finally, some thought should be given to the sequencing of commitments. At the time of writing, NATO were in the process of considering an expansion of ISAF beyond the confines of Kabul (Black, 2003, p.17). If this were to happen, the PRTs would presumably coexist with their ISAF counterparts, adapting their role accordingly. This would be a welcome development. Deployed alongside or in the wake of an appropriately sized and multinational peacekeeping force, the PRTs would likely make a more useful contribution. Deploying PRTs instead of a full peacekeeping force, I would argue, is selling Afghans short. With their current mandate, numbers, their tarnished political status and their scattergun approach to involvement in the reconstruction effort, I would conclude that the PRTs in isolation, particularly the US variant, are unlikely to make any real difference to the immediate security situation in Afghanistan.
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'I would be very careful about using our troops as nation-builders. I believe the role of the military is to fight and win war and, therefore, prevent war from happening in the first place. … Morale in today's military is too low. … I believe we're overextended in too many places.' (Hamre and Sullivan, 2002, quoting remarks made by George W. Bush during a presidential debate, 3 October 2000)(Return to text)