Paths to Peace in Somalia

A few months ago, if you would have predicted that the United States would invade a thinly populated Third World country for no apparent strategic reason, and Jesse Jackson would strongly endorse the initiative, I would have either sold you some prime real estate in the Everglades or had you committed for dangerous, delusionary thought patterns. But, alas, such are the confusing proceedings and moral ambiguities of the "new world order."

A U.S. Marine corporal was interviewed the day before he was shipped out to Somalia. Asked why the U.S. military was being tapped to carry out this particular mission, he replied, "Our job is to support the public interest." Not the national interest, or our strategic interests. The public interest.

But is Somalia's "public interest" being served by the humanitarian intervention of 30,000 U.S. troops? The answer depends on many other factors, such as efforts at conflict resolution, disarmament, and reconstruction. But one thing is clear: non-military options, including diplomacy and local capacity building, were hardly even attempted before the option of force was exercised.

Multiple-choice question time: After nearly two years of civil war and famine in Somalia, why was this dramatic approach adopted in the twilight of the Reagan/Bush era?

a) The Pentagon, fearing substantial cuts in defense, was eagerly seeking a broader mandate to justify its $300 billion-per-year price tag;

b) the United Nations needed a practice run before its more difficult intervention in Bosnia;

c) President George Bush wanted to depart from office in a blaze of glory;

d) U.N. Secretary General Boutros Boutros-Ghali wanted a large U.N.-controlled army, and Somalia provided the perfect opportunity to set a precedent;

e) the United States and the United Nations were publicly ridiculed for their tardy responses to famines in Ethiopia in 1984-85 and Sudan in 1987-88 and wanted to avoid another humiliating display of their superpowerlessness;

f) the media told them to;

g) the United States and the United Nations wanted to show they are not racists and care just as much about Somalis as they do Croatians;

h) people were starving and something had to be done.

The correct answer, I would postulate, is all of the above. An extraordinary confluence of interests coincided with serious questions about the inviolability of state sovereignty to produce Operation Restore Hope.

SOMALIA IS THE most extreme example of localized societal breakdown that has afflicted some post-Cold War African nations. Parts of Zaire, Liberia, Sudan, Mozambique, Angola, and Ethiopia have descended into militarized chaos. These countries all share the common denominator of being ex-recipients of excessive military aid from the United States or the former Soviet Union. They also share internal political, economic, and social characteristics that were facilitated by superpower arms and aid.

Politically, throughout the 1980s Somali dictator Siad Barre and military aid addicts in some of the other above-named police states all ruled by the ruthless repression of human rights. Economically, these regimes put most of their available investment capital into exporting raw materials and feeding armies and cities, excluding the vast majority of their rural-based populations from meaningful economic participation or food security. Socially, Siad Barre and other dictators were masters of the divide-and-conquer method of rule, leaving legacies of ethnic hatreds made genocidal by the plentiful supply and advancing technology of weaponry.

This kind of societal collapse and mass famine have been predicted for Somalia and other countries by a handful of social scientists for the past five years. In the late 1980s, the gross national product under Barre had begun to plummet as its economy increasingly moved underground, out of the reach of the state. This underground economy was fueled by a thriving black market for remittances from Somalis working abroad, ivory and arms smuggling, unsanctioned livestock exports to the Gulf, and outright theft of foreign aid.

When donated food became the commodity of choice for some of the underground merchants, their greedy manipulation of local markets directly led to the starvation of thousands of their neighbors.

It is critical to understand, though, that societal breakdown in Somalia is a localized phenomenon. In contrast to the media's portrayal of utter chaos, much of Somalia has been relatively peaceful and community structures still exist.

The great mistake for the international community at this juncture would be to legitimize the militia leaders by negotiating primarily with them, leaving out clan elders, local politicians, community organizations, professionals, women's groups, and others who have not shot their way into power.

Peace will come to Somalia only through a process that is built from the bottom up, not imposed from the top down. Consensus must be built across clans and regions. Temporary cease-fires between generals simply allow warring factions time to rearm, while impressing outsiders with their restraint and reasonableness.

There is hope for peace in Somalia. Former U.N. Representative Mohamed Sahnoun had slowly begun to build a framework for negotiations, despite little support from outside countries and the U.N. bureaucracy. The distribution procedures of the International Committee for the Red Cross, which prioritize dialogue and agreement between competing factions, are beginning to help clan elders reassert their authority in some areas. Community structures that still exist throughout Somalia need to be supported. And as outside troops remove looting as the major economic activity of many merchants and militias, sitting down at a negotiating table will be the only viable economic strategy available to these warring factions.

Securing the delivery of food to starving Somalis is certainly an important objective. But this involves strengthening the capacity of Somalis to participate in managing the response to their own crisis and resolving their own conflict. In the absence of a much broader-based effort at conflict resolution and community empowerment, Somalis will continue to starve for a long time to come.

John Prendergast was a research associate at the Center of Concern in Washington, D.C., and the author of A Guide for Activists: Handbook on African Hunger and Peace, Development, and People of the Horn of Africa (available from the Center of Concern, 3700 13th St. NE, Washington, DC 20017) when this article appeared.