When the
Somali Islamist
insurgent group
Al Shabab
slaughtered roughly 70 peacekeepers from
Burundi earlier
this month, it would easy to wonder why this tiny mountainous country in
Central
Africa sent 4,000 of its young men to fight in
Mogadishu. Burundi is one of just three countries supplying
soldiers to a joint
African Union
and
United
Nations peacekeeping mission in Somalia, known by its acronym,
AMISOM. Burundi doesn’t border Somalia, and it has no visible
national interest in the conflict there. What’s more, Burundi itself is still
reeling from civil war. Just a year before it joined Amisom, blue helmets were
patrolling Burundi’s own ceasefire.
Yet over the last five years – and through a string of casualties – Burundi
hasn’t just agreed to go to Somalia; it has leapt at the chance. The reasons
offer a glance into why countless troubled or impoverished countries, not just
Burundi, end up staffing UN peacekeeping missions. Today, there are nearly
100,000 UN peacekeeping troops deployed worldwide, and nearly all of them come
from non-OECD nations.
For the poorest countries such as Burundi, the reason is straightforward: The
UN Security Council members that craft these deployments need
manpower. But that’s not something they are prepared or willing to provide – so
donors like the
United States
and
European
Union offer money, training, and diplomatic support in exchange for
soldiers.
In 2010, those incentives drew the support of dozens of African troop
contributors, including
Nigeria,
Uganda,
Ghana,
Senegal,
Rwanda,
Benin,
Malawi, and
Burkina Faso.
“For all these countries, bilateral relations with major powers matter a lot
because they expect some development aid and other various forms of support [in
return for their deployment,]” explains
Jean-Marie
Guéhenno, who served as UN Under-Secretary General for Peacekeeping from
2000 to 2008.
Rewarded for risks
How Burundi ended up in Somalia is just one example.
Bujumbura sends its young men to battle because doing so has
allowed the country to build, equip, and train a stronger army – and to do it on
someone else’s tab. The United States is training the country’s army; the
African Union (with European support) pays soldiers’ salaries while they are in
theater. Those savings, plus compensation for troops and equipment, mean that
Burundi earns about $45 million annually from its participation – and to boot,
the country’s fractured military is finally faced with the most uniting force of
all: a common enemy, one that isn’t at home in Burundi.
“[Participating in AMISOM] has helped us to create a strong national force –
and a professional one,” explains Sylvestre Ntibantunganya, a former head of
state and now a senator in Burundi who advocated for sending troops to
Somalia.
Financial incentives are among the most alluring and hotly contested aspects
of UN peacekeeping missions. As standard UN procedure, countries are reimbursed
$1,028 per soldier per month of operations. Equipment is also paid for, meaning
that any guns, ammunition, tanks, or other logistics that a country carries in
will be reimbursed by the international community.
“What motivates potential troop contributing countries is the availability of
logistics … assurances about compensation for personnel and equipment [as well
as] deaths [suffered in theater,]” said Capt. Paddy Ankunda, AMISOM force
spokesman in Mogadishu. “Obviously, contributions by the United States and a
couple of other countries, the EU [countries],
France, have been
very key.”
In a country like Burundi, finances can easily tip the scales toward sending
troops overseas. Around the time AMISOM was first pieced together in 2007,
Burundi’s army was bloated and struggling to stick together.
The peace accords
that ended the country’s strife in 2000 mandated that rebel forces be integrated
into the national army. The cost of maintaining this larger force –
$191 million in 2007 – was a stretch for a government with a
strapped budget,
half of which was already funded through international aid.
(In 2010, the government had $802 billion to disperse, an amount equal to
approximately how much Americans spend buying
Christmas trees every year.)
The African Union force was offering to pay troops $750 each per month,
through funding from the European Union – significantly more than the soldiers
would make at home. “When you ask [the soldiers] to go, almost all of them are
ready to go, because it’s a financial windfall,” said Ntibantunganya. Of that
$750, the government would tax $100 – and deposit the rest directly into the
soldiers’ bank accounts, according to a January 2010 diplomatic cable released
on
WikiLeaks.
Burundi’s government came out well too. Cash from the salary taxes and the
relief from paying the human resources of thousands of soldiers a month were
enough to inject 6 billion Burundian francs (about $45 million dollars) into the
annual budget, according to the senator.
Better training
On top of the financial incentives, the United States in particular often
offers something else that African militaries need: top notch training. When the
Nigerian military was considering sending troops to an AU-UN mission in
Darfur late last decade, for example, “There was concern for
the development of capacity,” recalls former US Ambassador to Nigeria John
Campbell. Part of that meant Nigeria’s participation in a
US
State Department program called
Africa Contingency
Operations Training and Assistance (ACOTA), which offers boot camp-like courses
for peacekeeping forces, from rank-and-file prep to officer training.
Washington
spent
$11 million training Nigerian troops in 2009.
In Burundi, this same program contracted
Northrop Grumman to train the Burundian military battalion by
battalion, 10 weeks at a time. The sixteenth such battalion will conclude the
course in January, according to a Western diplomat who was not authorized to
speak on behalf of their capital on the matter.
Burundi’s government asked the United States to train the entire military,
rather than just those troops destined to join Amisom, a request the US agreed
to. The ACOTA contract is expected to run until 2013.
In theater, too, the soldiers gain vital experience, argues Ankunda. Uganda,
another country that provides the mission with troops, “had the opportunity to
undertake some marine training for its soldiers,” Ankunda said by phone. “[This
could prove] very helpful in the future, as marines are patrolling the waters
and insuring that the potential oil in the [offshore] area can be without
threats.”
Political benefits
Less tangibly, peacekeeping undoubtedly yields political benefits, both at
home and abroad, for the countries that participate. For Nigeria, the
fourth-largest troop contributing country in 2010, this was certainly the
case.
“Nigeria sees peacekeeping as part of its vocation as an African leader,”
says Campbell. “Nigeria’s active participation in peacekeeping is one of the
things that makes Nigeria’s claim [to try and win] a permanent African seat on
the Security Council credible.”
The relationship with the United States can also be a deciding factor,
according to Campbell. “I think there is no question that Nigeria’s active
participation in peacekeeping is an important dimension in the bilateral
relationship with countries like the United States,” he says.
Indeed, Nigeria has used this relationship to its advantage in the past,
threatening to examine its peacekeeping commitment if the
country was not removed from a US list of countries with unsafe air space in
February 2010.
Uganda offers another example of the importance of the relationship with
Washington. In November, the
International Crisis Group worried out loud that
Ugandan
President Yoweri Museveni was using his troop commitment to AMISOM “to
deflect international criticism of his brutal crackdown on a series of
opposition protests at home, receive more military aid from Washington and gain
political influence in the region.”
It’s not just geopolitics that can make peacekeeping look attractive. Sending
troops overseas can, at times, be a way to relieve internal tensions within a
military, or reward certain factions. When rebels were first integrated into the
army in Burundi, for example, conflict was rife. The peacekeeping mission
offered a way to remove certain elements for a time, to stop or even prevent
trouble from brewing. “It is, if you will, a release valve,” explained the
Western diplomat in Bujumbura. “They have a bloated military because they’ve
been obliged to take in all the former rebels, and it offers an opportunity to
sort that out.”
This is not to belittle the costs – which are great, and by many analysts
reading, downright unfair to the countries that send their troops into danger.
“When I saw that a country like Burundi was in such a difficult place as
Somalia, I thought: there is something wrong in peace operations,” said
Guéhenno. “We have ended up with a system where the weakest groups go to the
hardest places. I think to send troops from a very fragile country [like
Burundi] into such a difficult environment as Mogadishu – that is a recipe for
significant losses.”
Several hundred blue helmets for AMISOM have died in the fighting in Somalia
so far. And equally troubling are the conditions under which the soldiers often
operate. AMISOM lacks even a single helicopter and during a recent incident in
November, in which 70 peacekeepers were killed, force commanders told
The New York Times that many of its soldiers had bled
to death because they couldn’t be airlifted out.
American funding contributes $400 million a year to the mission. AMISOM
officials estimate that the costs of a helicopter, for example, would add $15
million more a year. Even the equipment that troops bring from home hasn’t been
reimbursed, AMISOM says. By March 2012, the UN will owe $9.4 million in
arrears.
Concerns about a lack of solid equipment and reliable funding from donors
erupted into a full-fledged debate in the UN Security Council earlier this year
when some of the main troop contributing countries, under the umbrella of the
Non-Aligned Movement,
called for significant increases in the rates that the UN
reimburses them, both for troops and equipment. Guéhenno says that a UN panel
has been set up to look for answers on the issues of funding.
Even as losses mount, the army’s operations remain incredibly popular back in
Burundi. The country’s participation in UN peacekeeping has become a sort of
national rebirth. When the country joined the ranks of the blue helmets, it
signaled that it had transformed from a menace to a peace broker in the
region.
Still, what’s most striking about Burundi’s work in Somalia is just how much
good it may do at home. Perhaps catching on to the backhanded benefits,
Kenya last week
offered to integrate its own forces operating in Somalia into
Amisom. A
local headline in
Nairobi’s
Business Daily put it bluntly: “Country Shifts Cost of Somalia War to the
United Nations.”
source: The Christian Science Monitor