Violence in the Democratic Republic of Congo: Twenty Years of Attempted United Nations Peacekeeping

‘The year 2019 sees the UN’s peacekeeping efforts in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) cross the threshold of 20 continuous years. Violence in the country endures despite numerous mandate expansions of the UN peacekeeping mission to a point where it now allows the use of proactive force for mandate implementation. Proactive force stands in opposition to the original concepts of UN peacekeeping, creating conflicting opinions within the authorising United Nations Security Council. The UN’s 20 years in the DRC tells a story of increasingly desperate measures without a mission completion in sight.’ 

By Matthew Wentworth

Origins of the Conflict

The Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) has been engulfed in conflict since 1996. The origins of the current violence lie in the massive refugee crisis and spill-over from the 1994 genocide in Rwanda after which Hutus involved in the genocide fled to the east of the DRC and formed armed groups. In response, opposing Tutsi and other opportunistic rebel groups arose. The Congolese government proved unable to control or defeat the various armed groups, some of which directly threatened populations in neighbouring countries and as a result, in 1998, the Second Congolese War broke out. The United Nations’ (UN) presence began just after the Lusaka Ceasefire Agreement was negotiated in August 1999 between the DRC, and five other states in the region: Angola, Namibia, Rwanda, Uganda, and Zimbabwe. It was the UN’s assumption that the Lusaka Agreement would mark the end of the Second Congolese War and that peacekeeping efforts would be necessary to manage the transition period. To this end, the UN deployed a small peacekeeping mission to the DRC with a mandate to observe the ceasefire, ensure disengagement of forces, and maintain liaison between all parties. This mission was titled the United Nations Organisation Mission in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (MONUC).

MONUC: 1999 – 2010

What followed the Lusaka process however was not an end to the war but rather ‘the disintegration from a “rational” war’[i]into a number of privatised, socially, and economically motivated sub-conflicts situated in the east, mainly in the North and South Kivu region. This region alone held 132 active non-state armed actors, causing insecurity in the eastern part of the country and necessitating that MONUC remain deployed. The mission failed, however, in protecting civilians during the 2002 Kisangani Massacre leaving at least 160 dead at the hands of a Rwandan-backed rebel group. MONUC forces similarly failed to act in 2003 during violence in the Northeastern Ituri region. They were unable to stop the carnage, being unauthorised to intervene, and instead ‘hid in their well-protected bases as hundreds were slaughtered’[ii]. The UN troops were said to be unable, under-resourced, and poorly-equipped to halt the widespread killing, atrocities, and displacements throughout 2003[iii]. Due to this failure in the protection mandate, then UN Secretary-General Kofi Annan requested an EU Member State to head up a multi-national force to provide security and protection in Ituri. This was a significant move because it amounted to the UN acknowledging the failure of MONUC and requesting that an external body lend assistance. France agreed to be the framework nation and the European Council authorised an Interim Emergency Multinational Force (Operation Artemis). The mission suffered from a restrictive geographic remit of 15km2 (mainly the city of Bunia) which merely resulted in the relocation of the atrocities to the fringes of the towns where killings continued. The Interim European Military Force (IEMF), acting under Operation Artemis, though mandated to operate from June – September 2003, withdrew only three weeks after becoming concerned that the upcoming expiration of their authorised mandate would leave them without legal cover in the case of any incident. Nevertheless, the EU force did make progress with regards to civilian protection and in response, the UN, attributing the success to Operation Artemis’ use of force mandate, authorised in September 2003 an increase of military personnel to MONUC and sanctioned all necessary means to fulfil its mandate in the Ituri district and North and South Kivu. This was both a recognition of the difficulties with peacekeeping in an area where there is no peace and signified a shift towards a robust peacekeeping mandate with a more proactive use of force.

MONUSCO & The Fall of Goma

In 2010, further changes to the mission were made with ‘stabilisation’ being added to the mission’s title meaning it became the United Nations Organisation Stabilisation Mission in the DRC (MONUSCO). The name change was seen by critical commentators to be an attempt at rebranding after criticisms from Human Rights Watch and others over MONUC’s lending of direct operational support to the Congolese Army in spite of their negative human rights record This support weakened MONUC’s legitimacy and tarnished its image in the eyes of the locals. With the updated MONUSCO mandate the UN recognised that the successful protection of civilians necessitated a more proactive use of force nationwide. Yet, in 2012, the ongoing cycle of violence, especially in the eastern provinces, remained. The most humiliating incident for MONUSCO came with the fall of the provincial capital of Goma in November 2012 to forces of the Rwanda-backed M23 rebel group. Goma, the capital of North Kivu, with a population of nearly one million, was overrun in the presence of 1500 UN peacekeepers, highlighting the failure of MONUSCO’s efforts to bring stability to the east. MONUSCO forces were unable to defend the city despite the fact that it had actually begun preparation for the M23 offensive as early as July of the same year, recognising that the fall of Goma would be ‘disastrous’[iv]. This was a massive breakdown of MONUSCO’s mandate implementation, most notably civilian protection and assisting the government in extending and protecting state authority[v].

The Force Intervention Brigade

In direct response to this failure of the UN peacekeeping mission, in February 2013, 11 regional countries agreed on a Peace, Security, and Cooperation Framework for the DRC[vi]. This established a brigade-strength Neutral Intervention Force under the support of the Southern African Development Community (SADC), and was a move to explicitly cut out the UN. However, with the estimated cost being £165 million it proved an unattainable goal. In a bid to salvage the last remnants of its reputation in the DRC after not being able to stop the M23 with the largest and most expensive peacekeeping mission in the world, the UN made a counter-proposal to establish and fund a Force Intervention Brigade (FIB), composed of troops from the SADC countries. The FIB was subsequently authorised in 2013, and the UN simultaneously mandated MONUSCO to ‘take all necessary measures to “neutralise” and “disarm” groups that were posing a threat to state authority and civilian security’[vii]. The UN was careful to explicitly state that the FIB was established on an exceptional basis in order to avoid creating a precedent or prejudice to the agreed principles of peacekeeping which fundamentally prohibits the use of force except in self-defence. Nevertheless, this assertion did not assuage the concerns of Security Council members who had long been opposed to the mandated use of force by UN missions, most notably China and Russia who warned that ‘what was once the exception now threatens to become the unacknowledged standard practice’[viii]. The two key concerns voiced were that peace-enforcement mandates to UN peacekeeping missions may compromise the impartiality of UN peacekeeping operations and jeopardise the safety and security of peacekeepers. It was feared that the use of force could increase the perception that the UN was taking sides and increase the risk of attacks against civilian and humanitarian personnel of the UN. Nevertheless, then UN Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon, labelled MONUSCO’s FIB a ‘milestone that signalled the resolve of the UN Security Council to address the changing nature of conflict and the operating environment of United Nations peacekeeping’[ix].

Despite Ban Ki-moon’s endorsement, concerns continue to grow, including the doctrinal criticism that the mandate to neutralise all armed groups implicitly presumes that all armed groups are hostile to peace processes and cannot or should not be integrated into a political process. Such mandates ignore the fact that there is an interconnected relationship between rebellion, bargaining, and shifting power relations[x], as evidenced by the events in the months following the start of the M23 rebellion. The fall of Goma forced the Congolese government back to the negotiating table in late 2012/early 2013 and resulted in the aforementioned Peace, Security and Cooperation Framework, a peace accord involving national, regional, and international players. The government recognised the dysfunction of the DRC’s state institutions as a root cause of the conflict and committed to substantial reforms to address them, including security sector reform, decentralisation, and democratic reform. 

In 2015, MONUSCO became the largest UN peacekeeping operation in the world, its mandate has seen similarly dramatic expansions, including from 2007 onwards the extension of state authority, the protection of civilians, and use of surveillance drones being included in the mandate. The extension of MONUSCO’s mandate continues to push the boundaries of what can legitimately considered UN peacekeeping, but this has not been accompanied by a similar identifiable success in establishing or keeping peace in the country. The continued expansion of the use of force and acceptance of robust mandates has shown very little success for a mission that this year turns 20 years old and remains deployed with no clear path to successfully conclude the mission.

Sources:

[i]Berdal, M. (2018) ‘The state of UN peacekeeping: Lessons from Congo’. Journal of Strategic Studies, 41(5). Pp.721-750.

[ii]Astill, J. (2003) ‘UN troops wait behind razor wire as Congo’s streets run with blood’. The Guardian. [online] Available at: https://www.theguardian.com/world/2003/may/23/congo.jamesastill [Accessed 6 June 2019].

[iii]Berdal (2018) ‘State of UN Peacekeeping’.

[iv]Tull, D. M. (2018) ‘The limits and unintended consequences of UN peace enforcement: the Force Intervention Brigade in the DR Congo’. International Peacekeeping, 25(2). Pp.167-190.

iv]BBC News (2012) ‘DR Congo M23 rebels 'enter Goma city'’. BBC News. [online] Available at: https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-africa-20405739 [Accessed 1 June 2019].

[vi]Karlsrud, J. (2015) ‘The UN at war: examining the consequences of peace-enforcement mandates for the UN peacekeeping operations in the CAR, the DRC and Mali’. Third World Quarterly, 36(1). Pp.40-54.

[vii]Karlsrud (2015) ‘UN at War’.

[viii]UNSC Verbatim Record (25 April 2013) UN Doc S/PV.6952, 2.

[ix]Ban Ki-moon (2014) ‘Remarks at Security Council Open Debate on Trends in United Nations Peacekeeping’. UN Peacekeeping. [online] Available at: https://peacekeeping.un.org/en/remarks-security-council-open-debate-trends-united-nations-peacekeeping[Accessed on 30 May 2019].

[x]Tull (2018) ‘Limits and unintended consequences’.

The struggle for ethnic identities in Morocco and Algeria: A colonial legacy of inequalities

“The sentences of Hirak protestors were recently confirmed in appeal by the Casablanca court, reaching up to 20 years of prison on the ground of ‘conspiracy against State’s Security’. The Hirak movement occurred in the Rif, claiming the end of an economic blockade and social discrimination affecting the Amazigh regions. Five years after the Arab Spring, known as the ‘20th February movement’ in Morocco, the (under)development of the Amazigh regions remains a big issue. The popular mass protest spread in Algeria, where similar conditions are experienced by the Kabyles. These events underline the inherent connection between recognition of identity on the one hand and socio-economic inequalities on the other. Properly named Amazigh, Berber is the dominant ethnic group in Morocco and an important one in Algeria, despite the countries’ identification as “Arab”. Ultimately, questions of identity and process of Arabization in both Morocco and Algeria could be hardly understood without acknowledging their colonial past [1].”

by Sahar Lahdifi

Similarly to Algeria, Morocco’s notion of national identity is the result of a long process of colonial and post-colonial legitimisation of power. Contemporary national identity is, in reality, the legacy of a social division imposed by the French colonial state, between Arabs and Amazighs on the one hand, and Muslims and non-Muslims on the other[2]. Despite two different types of colonial rules enforced by the French colonisers – assimilationist vs associationist[3] - both Algeria and Morocco suffered from an arbitrary division on the ground of ethnicity, created to establish a policy of divide-and-rule.

Following a long struggle for independence, the two states had the important task of preserving the integrity of their respective territories. As colonial rule did little to create a shared identity, Algeria and Morocco’s first objective was to gain legitimacy through the shaping of national identity[4]. Both former Moroccan Sultan King Mohammed V and Algerian President Ahmed Ben Bella imposed a collective identity enshrined in Islamic and Arabic roots, disregarding the Amazigh population, the first inhabitants of Morocco before the arrival of Arabs and Islam in the 7th Century.

In fact, the Arabic and Islamic roots were the two main features of political and social distinction between the colonists and the natives. In the Algerian colony, Muslims had to give up Islam to become first-class citizens, emphasising Islam as a symbol of resistance during post-colonial time. For their parts, Amazighs were deemed to be favoured and associated to the colonial state regarding their more secular customs, sometimes detached from Islam. Following the independence, their distinct legal customs were suppressed under Islamic laws and unification against the colonial state resulted in Islamisation and Arabisation of the national identity, reaching the demands of the Arab nationalists.

Yet, this post-colonial unification contributed to large inequalities between ethnicities, as it had an impact on the economic and social development of the Berber regions and their inhabitants. Significant claims were made to decrease Arabisation in order to include the Berbers and Kabyles as part of the collective identity, especially concerning their language and culture in the educational system.

On March 1980, strikes occurred in Tizi Ouzou and the Kabyle districts of Algiers, known as the “Berber Spring” [5]. Thousands of young Berbers in Algeria, joined demonstrations for the official recognition of their language, as part of the Algerian national history and identity. It was not until the end of the violent Kabyle protests, called “Black Spring” in 2001, that former President of Algeria Abdelaziz Bouteflika officially recognised the Tamazight as a national language through a constitutional amendment. In Morocco, the process has taken longer due to the complicated composition of the population, as the Berbers are divided into 4 major groups (Rif, Braber, Shluh and Soussi) and those groups are further divided into tribes.

On August 20th, 1994, King Hassan II of Morocco announced the teaching of Tamazight in middle-school following international pressure by the Human Rights Commission of Vienna[6]. The rise of the Arab Spring in February 2011 incited a movement in Morocco. Their revindications concerned a larger recognition of Amazigh culture and language, alongside wider political rights. This movement was judged too significant to ignore considering the geopolitical context, and King Mohammed VI of Morocco was constrained to answer to the political demands. A new Constitution was enacted on the 30th July 2011, recognising the “Berber components” of the country[7].

The claim for identity recognition reveals a deeper struggle for economic, social, and political rights. In 2016, the death of a Berber fish vendor, Mohsen Fikri, who saw his merchandise confiscated by a policeman, unleashed the anger of thousands of Berbers in the Rif region of Morocco. The Hirak movement was born and spread throughout the whole country as well as in Algeria, claiming the end of an economic blockade affecting Amazigh regions[8]. Protestors also called for equality and the end of social discrimination, particularly in regard to employment and education. For example, illiteracy and unemployment rates in the Rif region of Morocco are higher than the national average, affecting almost half of the population. Despite infrastructure projects led by the state, the number of health facilities in the region remain fundamentally low. Access to water and electricity is disparate, as 13.3% of the population have access to clean water in rural areas compared to 91.4% in urban areas[9]. Berbers protest the discrimination experienced at the hands of the elite governing class, who are out of touch with the reality, especially following the sentencing of protestors.

Despite new participatory mechanisms enshrined in the new Constitution, civil rights and freedoms remain controversial in Morocco and impact the whole population regardless of their ethnicities. Yet, the Amazigh population has a long history of inequalities behind, that it aims to engage in despite a complex domestic context.

From colonisation to post-colonialism, collective identity in Morocco and Algeria has always been dynamically negotiated and reimagined in interaction with political, social, and economic dynamics. Indeed, questions of identity are often indicative of profound political, social and economic (in)stabilities and (in)securities.

Sources:

[1]Jonathan Wyrtzen, Colonial Legitimization-Legibility Linkages and the Politics of Identity in Algeria and Morocco, Yale University, European Journal of Sociology, Vol. 58, N°2, 2017, pp. 205-235

[2]Ibid

[3]Ibid

[4]Jonathan N.C. Hill, Identity and instability in Postcolonial Algeria, The Journal of North African Studies, Vol.11, N°1, March 2006

[5]Jonathan N.C. Hill, Identity and instability in Postcolonial Algeria, The Journal of North African Studies, Vol.11, N°1, March 2006

[6]Perspective monde, Reconnaissance des revendications berbères au Maroc,Faculté des lettres et sciences humaines, Université de Sherbrooke, Québec, 20 août 1994

[7]Preamble of the Moroccan Constitution of 201

[8]Reda Zaireg, Rif Crisis Reveals Failure of Development in Morocco, 2 January 2018, Orient XXI, https://orientxxi.info/magazine/rif-crisis-reveals-failure-of-development-in-morocco,2197

[9]Nadia Lamlili, Tensions à Al Hoceima : les chiffres des inégalités sociales qui expliquent la grogne marocaine, 25 mai 2017, Jeune Afrique, https://www.jeuneafrique.com/441734/politique/tensions-a-al-hoceima-chiffres-inegalites-sociales-expliquent-grogne-marocaine/

An introduction to Men’s Rights Activists (MRAs)

The re-emergence of men’s rights activists (MRAs) in social and political contexts in recent years has posed new threats regarding national and international security. Through the utilisation of the internet to further their ideology, develop a community, and radicalise others these threats are increasing. Therefore, in order to understand the legitimacy of the threat posed by MRAs, it is essential to explore their origins.

by Heather McDonald

Groups associated with the far-right have historically held misogynist, anti-feminist, and sexist views and for contemporary far-right groups, this has been no different. However, for many modern-day far-right groups, these values and opinions are no longer a “result of their wider political outlook but rather a central pillar to their ideology” [1]. Nowadays, certain sections of the far-right are heavily driven by anti-feminist ideologies resulting in the emergence and development of male supremacy groups such as ‘Proud Boys’ and ‘Return of Kings’ as extensions of the far-right ideology.

The existence of men’s rights groups in society is nothing new, however, the aims and methods adopted by these groups have changed and evolved over time. As a reaction to second-wave feminism in the 1970s, the ‘men’s liberation’ movement formed in order to provide a critical understanding of the conventions of masculinity [2]. Similarly to the feminist movement the original men’s liberation movement aimed to address the stereotypes and conditions that affected men and masculinity in the social, cultural, and political context. From here the men’s liberation movement split into two factions: those who were pro- and those who were anti-feminist [3]. With each side of this original ideological movement basing their position mainly on the debate surrounding the concept of male privilege and the ways in which male entitlement adversely impacted women globally. Members of the men’s liberation movement who aligned with feminist principles established themselves around topics ranging from male circumcision to child custody. Similarly, this faction also aimed to debate and question the normalised patriarchal standards throughout society deemed detrimental to all genders. This faction supported the idea that gender stereotypes had created harmful circumstances within society for both men and women. However, those affiliated with the anti-feminist approach went on to re-establish themselves as ‘men’s rights activists’ (MRAs). Operating under the belief that “they are victims of oppressive feminism, an ideology which must be overthrown often through violence” [4]. For these individuals gender stereotypes were a positive thing in society and the reduction of them and breaking down of barriers was detrimental to men and masculinity.

Men’s Rights Activists reflect an ideology and global movement which set out to to question and stall women’s gains at all levels [5], believing these gains have been awarded at the expense of men. Sub-groups operating under the same beliefs as MRAs perceive the social, cultural, and political opportunities afforded by the feminist movement as threats to their existence which must be revoked. MRAs hold the belief that feminism, and therefore gender equality, has ‘gone too far’ and in turn harmed men deeply [6]. Certain subgroups such as the ‘Involuntary Celibate’ (incels) who believe sexual relationships are a human right they have been deprived of because of the normalisation of gender equality and global feminism, have called for a ‘gender revolt’ in the hopes of reclaiming a type of manhood rich in “male and white superiority” [7].

As a result of social movements on behalf of women’s rights, anti-racism and LGBTQ+ rights, the power and dominance afforded to ‘white men’ in society are increasingly being challenged [8]. The level of powerlessness felt by these men, particularly those operating within the far-right ideology, is now leading to defensive actions. Contemporary MRAs have utilised the internet in order to develop and spread their ideology whilst also recruiting and radicalising new members. This utilisation has occurred through forums, posting videos explaining their own personal grievances on YouTube, and meme making. Essentially the internet has provided MRAs with a place to evolve their ideology and gain a sense of community and normalisation  of their opinions. Yet we are now increasingly witnessing MRAs actions emerging increasingly offline through protests, marches, and extreme acts of violence on areas populated by women. For example the Toronto Van Attack of 2018 when Alek Minassian ploughed a van into crowds of shoppers deliberately targeting women and in turn killing 10 individuals and injuring a further 16.

Fully understanding MRAs and the inclination by some of them to resort to violence in order to achieve their ideological goals is extremely complex. MRAs do not differ from any other extremist groups in that there are specific subgroups and individuals who will feel more inclined than others to turn to violence. To say that all MRAs are inherently violent extremists would simply be wrong, however, as we witness additional attacks inspired by the male supremacy ideology and other non-MRA far-right terrorist attacks referencing male supremacy, the level of threat MRAs and male supremacy pose to national and international security cannot be shied away from by policymakers and law enforcement agencies alike.

Sources:

[1] Murdoch, S. (2018). ‘Societal Misogyny and the Manosphere Understanding the UK Anti-Feminist Movement’ in Lowles, N. (ed), State of Hate 2019: People vs the Elite? (pp. 38-41), London: Hope Not Hate.

[2] Ging, D. (2017). Alphas, Betas, and Incels. Men and Masculinities, pp.1097184X1770640.

[3] Messner, M. A. 2016. “Forks in the Road of Men’s Gender Politics: Men’s Rights vs Feminist Allies.” International Journal for Crime, Justice and Social Democracy 5:6–20

[4] Zimmerman, Shannon, Lusia Ryan, and David Duriesmith “Who are Incels? Recognising the Violent Extremist Ideology”, Women in International Security (2018) : 1-5 Research Gate

[5] Palmer and Subramaniam, 2018

[6] Allan, J. (2016). Phallic Affect, or Why Men's Rights Activists Have Feelings. Men and Masculinities, 19(1), pp.22-41.

[7] Zimmerman, Shannon, Lusia Ryan, and David Duriesmith “Who are Incels? Recognising the Violent Extremist Ideology”, Women in International Security (2018) : 1-5 Research Gate

[8] Marwick, A and Rebecca Lewis. (2017) Media Manipulation and Disinformation Online. New York: Data & Society Research Institute.