Skip to the reading

Negotiating Peace in the Democratic Republic of Congo: Unpicking Challenges, Opportunities, and the Role of Regional and International Actors

How to cite this journal: Author, Date of the post, WMO Conflict Insight, Title of the post, ISSN: 2628 6998, https://worldmediation.org/journal/

ABSTRACT *

This article examines the failure of mediation in the Democratic Republic of Congo across more than two decades of agreements, dialogues and peacekeeping mandates. The author begins from the observation that conflict and identity in the region are mutually constitutive, and that any account of the present depends on contested constructions of the past. A historical section traces the sequence from the Congo Free State through the Kanyarwanda War, the two Congo wars and the successive crises of the present, giving particular attention to how ethnic categories were constructed and how archives were destroyed to redefine who belonged. A second section reviews the record of mediation from the Lusaka Ceasefire Agreement onward, including the Inter Congolese Dialogue, the Pretoria Agreement, the Goma and Amani processes, and the missions known as MONUC and MONUSCO. The analysis then applies negotiation frameworks to that record, examining the spectrum from autonomy lending to authoritative intervention, the best alternative to a negotiated agreement as it applies to the various armed and institutional actors, the distinction between impasse, stalemate and deadlock, and the ethical difficulties of negotiating in a polarised setting. Seven recommendations follow. The author writes explicitly as an outsider and asks the reader to weigh the account accordingly.

KEYWORDS *

Democratic Republic of Congo, mediation, identity, constructed history, Lusaka Ceasefire Agreement, Inter Congolese Dialogue, MONUSCO, M23, BATNA, deadlock, local ownership, peacebuilding

INTRODUCTION

Conflict and identity are constructed phenomena. Both are rooted in historical, sociocultural, and psychological origins; arguably, one cannot exist without the other. We are either in conflict with ourselves or with someone else. Perhaps both. Nevertheless, conflict is not inherently negative, neither is power inherently ‘bad’, but it is about how they are wielded to resolve differences and effectuated to achieve change. In the case of the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), conflict and identity are intertwined. In the DRC, collective identity exists through conflict, while simultaneously, crises of identity also exist because of conflict (Clark 2014, 309; Lemarchand 2009, 119). However, to understand the tapestry of conflict and identity, ultimately through the lens of mediation, we must start with history. René Lemarchand, a French American political scientist whose research specializes in ethnic conflict in Africa, posits ‘the past’ as a focal point through which to understand the present. Lemarchand argues that: “Connecting the dots between past and present is nowhere more fraught than where history is a violently contested terrain, where claims to citizenship are heavily determined by ideological constructions, and the tendrils of violence rooted in long-ago events” (Lemarchand 2013, 418). Still, by uncovering the underlying catalysts for differing rhetorics justifying violence and rewritings of history, it is possible to approach the history of the DRC. The frameworks and lenses used in this paper aim to unravel the past and present through decolonial, historical, and ethnic lenses. Acknowledging that none of these spheres of influence exist independently, the land and resource question is also briefly considered. Upon this foundation, an analysis of peace negotiations will be regarded as through mediation and negotiation frameworks. The analysis will explore the role of regional and international actors, constructed historical narratives, and the different ‘layers’ of crisis as relevant concepts in the DRC’s cycles of violence and failed peace agreements.

This paper aims to see mediation as more than just “fire fighting” and instead understand what complementary activities are needed for mediation to be a substantive mechanism for genuinely addressing the conflict in the DRC (Nsengimana, Kemenade, and Tobie 2010, 11). Several key concepts should also be defined: While conflict resolution encompasses various approaches to resolving disputes, mediation specifically involves an outside intermediary facilitating communication and negotiation between conflicting parties. Thus, this paper covers mediation, negotiation attempts, and ceasefire agreements, where ‘conflict resolution’ falls into several categories. In the context of conflict in Congo and with Rwanda, regional actors involve countries with a direct interest or involvement in the conflict due to geographical proximity or historical ties, which can include but are not limited to neighboring countries like Burundi and Uganda, but can extend to Angola for its involvement in negotiation processes. In contrast, international actors can consist of entities like the United Nations (UN), the African Union (AU), and those with broader diplomatic, political, or humanitarian agendas.

The outline of this paper can be traced as follows: the ‘problem’, the different layers of crisis and understanding, the history and context of conflict, broken down into the history of conflict and mediation, mediation frameworks to understand peace attempts in the DRC, and embedded within all of these is the role of regional and international actors. This paper will conclude with recommendations for action or policy, echoing other scholars’ previous affirmations of what needs to change to achieve sustainable peace. But I am just one person. I am ‘an outsider looking in.’ All academics and intervenors or mediators are (Mathys 2017, 487). Thus, I must acknowledge that this is ultimately an ‘outsider’ perspective. While I endeavor to bridge the distance between reality on the ground and the comfort from which I posit this analysis, the reader must also be aware of this distance. Nonetheless, this paper aims to contribute to the discourses surrounding the ‘gap’ between the failure of peace accords and the research on why peace has failed.

MAIN CORPUS

Making sense of mayhem: the sense of fatalism about Congo

There is a paradox in the vast expanse of numerical abstractions: while numbers are used to denounce value, it is entirely context-dependent. The death toll in Congo since 1996 lingers at more than six million, and more than six million people remain internally displaced in eastern DRC (Lawal 2024). Each digit in this number represents not just a numeral but a life extinguished and a story left untold. Six million lives intertwined in a tapestry of anguish and despair, their voices silenced by the cacophony of chaos. “There’s a sense of fatalism about Congo […] People seem to think, ‘That’s just the way it is,'” said Cynthia Jones, the World Food Program head in eastern Congo (Walsh 2023). This sentiment is implicitly echoed within international discourse. Thus, the ‘problem’ is three-fold: the first layer is at the surface, the humanitarian crisis in Congo; the second layer speaks to the roots of violence, the “mechanism that makes violence a self-perpetuating phenomenon,” and the final layer, the third layer, is about the ‘outsiders’ looking in (Lemarchand 2013, 423). The third layer is the most complex: for example, Séverine Autesserre, an author and researcher focusing on peacebuilding in the DRC, posits that since 2003, “UN staff and diplomats defined the Congolese context as a ‘post-conflict’ environment in which various bouts of large-scale fighting became mere ‘crises’ rather than evidence that the war was continuing” (Autesserre 2010, 62). Scholars have emphatically affirmed that peacebuilding measures have been insufficient and ignored the deeper issues and tensions beneath the surface (Lemarchand 2009, 121). Thus, an irony presents itself: spanning decades of conflict and signed and broken peace agreements, research exists about why peace has failed in the DRC, from regional involvement to the role of resources and investments in the perpetuation of the conflict, to be explored further below, the agonizing question remains about bridging the gap between why peace has failed to achieve sustainable peace. The challenge lies in transcending the fatalistic resignation that pervades the discourse surrounding Congo’s plight. It demands a reevaluation of our perceptions, a reorientation of our strategies, and a resolute commitment to addressing the multifaceted layers of this humanitarian crisis. Delving deeper into the context and history of the region, it becomes apparent that the roots of violence are deeply entrenched, nourished by a complex web of historical grievances, political instability, and economic exploitation. Only by acknowledging and confronting these underlying issues can we hope to pave a path toward lasting peace for the people of the Democratic Republic of Congo.

Context information and exploration: constructions of the past to present

The past is just stories that have been passed on, but each of these stories has already been interpreted; each ‘telling’ of history is already a perspective of a version of reality. Moreover, any analysis of any ‘history’ is subjected to presentism: we ‘must’ study the past to understand the present; we are fallible to this desire to understand everything in our present context (Mathys 2017, 466; Eltringham 2006, 443). Thus, most historical research is pursued through constructivist lenses of presentism, where intellectual and emotional projections lead us to parochialist understandings of ‘the past.’ In the context of historical trauma, colonial oppression, and psychological biases, different strands of thought and reason become tangled with anger, vengeance, and different perceptions of fairness. Nonetheless, an exploration of ‘the past’ is essential for this paper. Thus, it must be acknowledged that any discussion of ‘the history of conflict’ in the DRC and with Rwanda is likely to be tarnished with varying degrees of didacticism and biases (Reyntjens 2016, 64). The historical narrative below, therefore, aims to unravel what motivates the different perceptions of ‘the past.’ “Violence cannot be understood without understanding the discursive concepts that justify it for the actors” (Mathys 2017, 467).

Navigating the depths of conflict: a history of violence and war in the DRC

The history of conflict in the DRC is marked by a chronology of violence over a century. Throughout its various manifestations, as the Congo Free State (1885 to 1908), the Belgian Congo (1908 to 1960), the Congo Republic (1960 to 1971), Zaire (1971 to 1997), and finally, the Democratic Republic of Congo (since 1997), a consistent symbol for the DRC has been its violence (Swart 2012, 43). The roots of this strife are multifaceted, intertwined with colonial legacies, post-colonial power struggles, ethnic tensions, and the question of resources. Beginning with the brutal colonial rule under King Leopold II of Belgium in the late 19th century, the Congo Free State witnessed widespread atrocities, including forced labor, mutilations, and mass killings of indigenous populations (Swart 2012, 43 to 44). Following independence in 1960, the country plunged into internal conflicts, rebellions, and power struggles. The secession of Katanga province under Moise Tshombe in 1960 and subsequent interventions by UN forces highlighted the fragility of the newly formed state (Kisangani 2012, 44). The reign of Mobutu Sese Seko, from 1965 to 1997, was characterized by authoritarian rule, corruption, and repression, fueling discontent and internal strife (Ikambana 2007, 1). Thus, the foundation of Congo was built upon a legacy of violence and exploitation perpetuated by colonial oppression and post-colonial power struggles. From the atrocities of King Leopold II’s regime to the tumultuous reign of Mobutu, the narratives that would become history were set to be fraught with identities and frameworks for stability to be constructed within the oppression of trauma.

In the aftermath of the Rwandan Genocide in 1994, which resulted in the mass slaughter of Tutsis and moderate Hutus, Rwanda’s invasion of the DRC further escalated the conflict. The genocide, rooted in ethnic divisions and fueled by extremist ideologies, left an indelible scar on Rwanda’s history, reshaping its trajectory and regional dynamics and putting further pressure on the ethnic dimension of tensions in the DRC. However, delving deeper into the historical narratives of Hutu and Tutsi sheds light on the intricate complexities of ethnic identities and perceptions in the region. The Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF) puts forward a version of history that “portrays pre-colonial Rwanda as a harmonious society, where Hutu, Tutsi, and Twa were not ethnic labels but categories referring to wealth and status” (Reyntjens 2016, 62). According to this narrative, the three groups shared a common history, culture, religion, and space. Intermarriage was prevalent, and social mobility was feasible, determined by one’s possession of cattle. Despite occasional conflicts, they were not primarily ethnic in nature. However, while further scholars echo the manipulation of a constructed narrative of hierarchizing and ethnicizing these identities to favor justifications for violence or victimhood, these categorizations of identity go beyond mere documentation or evaluation of the past (Mathys 2017, 469; Lemarchand 2009, 129; Eltringham 2006, 434). The Hutu historical narrative represents a subversive recasting and reinterpretation of its moral terms, termed “mythico-history” (Malkki 1995, 54 to 55). Termed by Liisa Malkki, “mythico-history” intertwines factual events with moral frameworks to reorder social and political categories, define the self in distinction to others, and establish a world’s moral order. In addition to the complexities of Hutu and Tutsi identities, the region’s history is also influenced by the ‘Hamitic Hypothesis,’ which posits that African ‘civilization’ was due to racially distinct Caucasoid invaders from the north and northeast of Africa (Eltringham 2006, 425 to 426). Both the Hamitic hypothesis and the manipulation of ethnic identities are cataclysmic forces that have fueled the flames of conflict in the region, perpetuating divisions and providing ideological ammunition for violence. However, the roots of conflict extend beyond simplified ethnic binaries. Economic interests in Congo’s rich natural resources, well-intentioned international interventions exacerbating divisions, and proxy conflicts have perpetuated cycles of violence and instability.

The Kanyarwanda War, Kanyarwanda translating to ‘Sons of Rwanda,’ but encompassing a constructed ‘Rwandanese’ identity that moved beyond Tutsi and Hutu, lasted from 1963 to 1966 and marked a pivotal moment in the history of conflict in the Congo (Prunier 2001, 147). This war erupted amidst discussions regarding provincial administrative boundaries in Kivu, but it quickly evolved into a struggle for local power dynamics and identity. They were primarily fought between the “autochthons” and the Rwandophone population, particularly the immigrants or the second wave of Rwandan migrants (Mathys 2017, 478). The concept of ‘autochthony’ encompasses the inherent connection between people and land, often influencing notions of citizenship and resource access. This is particularly evident in Kivu, where it shapes social mobilization and livelihoods, affects land rights and employment opportunities, and historically influences legal citizenship claims (Mathys 2017, 469). The conflict was about territorial disputes and access to political authority at the local and provincial levels. The Kanyarwanda War foreshadowed the deep-seated tensions that would plague the region for decades. It represented one of the earliest manifestations of violence rooted in ethnic identity and manipulation of historical narratives. The war saw the deliberate burning of archives aimed at redefining populations and categorizing Kinyarwanda speakers as “strangers” or “refugees,” effectively erasing their historical presence in the region (Mathys 2017, 478 to 479). This manipulation of historical records and ethnic categorizations would resurface in later conflicts, exacerbating divisions and fueling violence.

Following the Kanyarwanda War, the Congo continued to experience cycles of instability, punctuated by brief periods of fragile stability. The ousting of Mobutu during the First Congo War (1996 to 1997), backed by Rwanda and Uganda, led to Laurent-Désiré Kabila assuming power (Lemarchand 2013, 422). However, internal divisions and external pressures quickly led to the Second Congo War (1998 to 2003), drawing in multiple regional actors and proxy militias in a complex web of violence and resource exploitation. The Second Congo War unleashed a wave of brutality and suffering unparalleled in the region’s history. Estimates suggest that the conflict resulted in the loss of approximately 3.3 million lives between August 1998 and November 2002, with millions more displaced and subjected to unspeakable atrocities (Lemarchand 2013, 422). The war was not simply a battle for political power but also a scramble for the Congo’s vast mineral wealth, which attracted many external actors with vested interests (Ahere 2012, 4). Whoever controlled the mines and local economy had financing for their military endeavors. The exploitation of resources, coupled with the failure of governance and the proliferation of armed groups, rendered the DRC essentially ungovernable, perpetuating a cycle of violence and instability (Ahere 2012, 4). The assassination of Laurent-Désiré Kabila in 2001 further destabilized the already volatile situation, fueling suspicions of external involvement in Congolese affairs (Lemarchand 2009, 122). Kabila’s death highlighted the precariousness of political leadership in the region and heightened tensions among various factions vying for power and control over the country’s vast resources.

Throughout its history, the Congo’s internal conflicts have been aggravated by external interventions and the manipulation of historical narratives and ethnic identities by both domestic and foreign actors. The legacy of colonialism, with its arbitrary borders and divisive policies, continues to haunt the region, contributing to the fragmentation of national identity and the proliferation of violence (Mathys 2017, 478). The failure of international interventions to address the root causes of conflict has only perpetuated the cycle of violence, as external actors often prioritize their strategic interests over the well-being of the Congolese people (Reyntjens 2016, 65). The more recent ‘crises of violence’ from 2003 to 2009 highlight the persistent challenges faced by the nation (Human Rights Watch 2009). Despite efforts at transitional governance, the proliferation of armed groups, internal power struggles, and external interventions continue to fuel the conflict and undermine peace-building initiatives. With news agencies reporting “panic” and “alarm” over escalating violence in 2023 and 2024, it is clear that the Congo remains ensnared in a cycle of instability where a sustainable peace that addresses the underlying causes of conflict is essential to stop the suffering of decades (Cyuzuzo and Jones 2024; Mukoni 2024).

In the intricate tapestry of Congo’s history, woven with threads of colonial oppression, post-colonial power struggles, and ethnic tensions, this historical narrative intended to unfurl a ‘neutral’ depiction of the past. However, perhaps there is no ‘one version’ of history. The Congo’s story is a mosaic, fragmented and refracted through the diverse lenses of those who have experienced its tumultuous journey. From the brutal reign of King Leopold II to the convoluted conflicts of the present day, the narratives that emerge are as varied as the voices that tell them. In this recognition of multiplicity, the essence of understanding lies, that history is not a fixed entity but a kaleidoscope of perceptions, each offering a glimpse into the intricate layers of human experience.

A history of mediation and negotiation attempts: beyond why peace has failed

The history of mediation, negotiation attempts, ceasefires, and peace accords in the DRC is a complex tapestry woven with threads of hope, discord, and intermittent successes overshadowed by frequent failures. Since 1999, numerous agreements, summits, and dialogues have been pursued to bring peace to a nation ravaged by internal strife and external interventions. However, the path to sustainable peace has been fraught with challenges, ranging from deep-rooted political rivalries to external interference and the complexities of resource exploitation.

In 1999, amidst escalating conflict in the DRC, the talks commenced for the Lusaka Ceasefire Agreement, reflecting early attempts at negotiation and mediation. However, these agreements faced significant hurdles from the outset. The absence of key stakeholders, such as Laurent Kabila and the Congolese Rally for Democracy (RCD), a critical rebel group, undermined the effectiveness of these initiatives (Swart and Solomon 2004, 8). Delays were also experienced over the technicalities of the draft agreement, consensus on the agenda, and choosing a suitable, ‘neutral’ mediator; eventually, the former president of Botswana, Sir Ketumile Masire, was deemed acceptable for this role (Swart and Solomon 2004, 10 to 13). The talks also simultaneously suffered the fragmentation of rebel factions, further complicating the peace process and highlighting the deep divisions within Congolese society. Gerrie Swart and Hussein Solomon offer a pretty condemning summary: “The Lusaka Ceasefire Agreement was born out of a desperate attempt to end the conflict in the DRC. The agreement was negotiated on idealistic and overly optimistic terms, yet on many occasions, negotiations took place in bad faith amidst the backdrop of continuous fighting among disparate participants” (Swart and Solomon 2004, 49). These initial forays into peace negotiations set the stage for the subsequent involvement of the UN Organization Mission in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (MONUC), which played a pivotal, albeit controversial, role in facilitating peace efforts and providing stability in the region.

The transformation of the MONUC into MONUSCO in 2010 marked a symbolic shift in the UN’s interventionist approach to the Congolese conflict. Throughout its deployment, MONUC’s mandate underwent several adaptations in response to changes in the national political context, delineated into pre-transition (1999 to 2003), transition (2003 to 2007), and post-transition (2007 to 2010) phases (Reynaert 2011, 14). Initially established as a traditional peacekeeping mission under Chapter VI to observe and monitor the Lusaka Ceasefire Agreement, MONUC quickly transitioned to a more robust Chapter VII operation due to its complex conflict environment. The mission’s evolution towards a mix of peacekeeping, peacebuilding, and peace enforcement, with civilian protection as its priority, reflected the escalating violence and humanitarian crises in the DRC. Two essential factors will be acknowledged: MONUC military and civilian staff committing severe acts of sexual exploitation and abuse against the people they promised to protect, and MONUC as a ‘peacekeeping force’ using excessive force (Reynaert 2011, 11 to 25). While these transgressions are outside the focus of this paper, their acknowledgment is essential as it points to the broader failure of the mission in upholding its mandate. Thus, MONUC’s transformation into MONUSCO in 2010 was partly a compromise between the DRC government’s request for the mission’s withdrawal and the UN’s eagerness to consolidate its peace work while simultaneously an attempt at regaining legitimacy, hence why, arguably, this ‘transformation’ was more symbolic in nature than anything else (Swart 2012, 54). Scandal notwithstanding, MONUC and MONUSCO’s role in responding to the crisis has been mixed, with instances of intervention and failure to protect civilians. Lemarchand offers a somber analysis: “MONUC is everywhere except where it should be, at the front lines” (Lemarchand 2009, 128 to 129). While, at crucial moments, its interventions have saved lives, the mission’s legacy is marked by inconsistency, inefficiency, and a failure to operationalize its mandate effectively (Swart 2012, 54 to 55). Despite efforts to adapt and address different sources of conflict, MONUC and MONUSCO continue to grapple with systemic challenges and limitations in their ability to bring about lasting peace and stability in the DRC.

The Inter-Congolese Dialogue (ICD) in 2002, held in Sun City, South Africa, coexisted with MONUC’s mission and, at the time, represented another ‘milestone’ in the quest for peace. However, despite its potential, the ICD faced numerous challenges and setbacks, reflecting the deep-rooted divisions within Congolese society. Internal disputes among Congolese factions and concerns about the neutrality of mediators hindered the progress, highlighting the complexities of navigating peace negotiations in such a volatile context (Swart and Solomon 2004). The divergence in pace between MONUC’s objectives and the slower process mandated by the ICD led to frustration within the peacekeeping mission, underscoring the practical challenges of coordinating multiple peace initiatives simultaneously (Swart and Solomon 2004, 49). But perhaps the failure of the ICD can be traced back to the Lusaka Ceasefire Agreement, their ‘pillars’ mercilessly interdependent, where “the collapse of one can cause the collapse of them all:” Thus, “without the disarmament of the negative forces, the withdrawal of foreign troops was not seriously pursued, failing many of the agreements undertaken during the ICD” (Swart and Solomon 2004, 49). Despite efforts to address these issues, the Sun City Accord initially lacked inclusivity, prompting a subsequent phase of the dialogue in Pretoria. This culminated in the conclusion of the Global and Inclusive Agreement in December 2002, followed by the finalization of the Sun City dialogue in April 2003, resulting in the Final Act (Mangu and Lingandu 2011, 45 to 46). This agreement aimed to establish a transitional government and pave the way for free and democratic elections, offering hope for ending the legitimacy crisis that had plagued the DRC since its independence in 1960. While significant in their intentions, the culmination of the ICD and subsequent agreements ultimately failed to address the underlying issues perpetuating conflict in the DRC. However, the dissolution of these peace talks did not mark the end of challenges in the quest for peace.

In 2002, the Pretoria Agreement further sought to address the ongoing conflict by expanding the scope of dialogue and inclusivity. Suddenly, the peace movement gained momentum. Purportedly isolated by the regional and international community, being held accountable for the failure of the Sun City dialogue, Rwandan leadership made the surprising concession of withdrawing troops from the DRC, contingent upon effective measures implemented to address security threats posed by armed groups (Rogier 2003, 33 to 35). This arrangement allowed MONUC to gradually shift its focus towards eastern DRC from 2002, with the last foreign troops withdrawn from the Congo in May 2003. MONUC was granted the use of “all necessary means to fulfill its mandate,” where its track record of exploitation and inefficiency led to a distrust of its mechanism as a ‘peacekeeping’ mission (Rogier 2003, 35; Reynaert 2011, 38). While MONUC played a crucial role in overseeing the repatriation of troops and verifying compliance with the agreements, the withdrawal of foreign forces did not immediately lead to peace in the eastern DRC. Instead, it contributed to a complex and fragmented security landscape, with various armed groups vying for control over territory.

The period of ‘relative calm’ from 2003 to 2006 was marred by sporadic violence and internal rebellions, notably the Bukavu offensive in 2004 and continued clashes with armed groups, all of which mainly was dismissed as mere “crises” rather than an acknowledgment that the root issues of the conflict had not been solved (Autesserre 2010, 62). MONUC’s efforts to restore stability were further complicated by attacks on peacekeepers and rising political tensions with the planned 2006 presidential elections in sight. This was when MONUC’s strategy changed to become more forceful. While the goal of ‘disrupting military violence by armed groups’ was mainly achieved, and the elections took place successfully, there were revenge killings on the civilian population (Reynaert 2011, 16 to 17). After the first presidential elections and sovereign appointment, MONUC limited its activity in the field. As MONUC’s role evolved and the DRC formed a new government in 2007, challenges and ongoing efforts to address rebel groups persisted.

One new initiative was the Goma Peace, Security, and Development Conference in the Kivus in 2008. The Goma Conference led to the Amani process, a bureaucratic and idealistic attempt to achieve peace in eastern DRC. Trying to outrun the mistakes from the past, all conference participants would receive USD 135 per diem, and soon attendance swelled from 600 participants to 1,500, including some sub-groups of rebel coalitions and grassroots organizations that were never heard of before (Lemarchand 2009, 120 to 121). Between the complex network of committees and subcommittees, the vast amount of attendees, and the unclear agenda, the Amani process ultimately failed to consider “the gap between its blueprint for peace and the reality of the ongoing war” (Lemarchand 2009, 121). While a ceasefire was agreed upon, it was quickly broken, with no clear evidence of who violated it first. Lemarchand accurately attributes that it was “difficult to imagine that anything constructive could have emerged from its bureaucratic machinery” (Lemarchand 2009, 121). Thus, while another attempt at peace, the Goma and Amani process was perhaps not as genuine as the others and more symbolic of what ‘the outsiders’ wanted to do for ‘the insiders,’ merely fighting a fire and not bothering to find the source of the flames.

From 2008 to 2010, efforts to achieve peace in the DRC faced numerous setbacks, highlighting the persistent challenges in resolving the conflict. The Goma Conference in January 2008 resulted in agreements establishing a ceasefire and undergoing brassage, but these commitments were quickly violated, leading to renewed fighting, particularly in the Kivu region. The failure of the Congolese army to defeat rebel groups, notably Laurent Nkunda’s forces, underscored the fragility of the peace process. Despite the joint military operation “Umoja Wetu” in 2009, which temporarily displaced rebel forces, violence against civilians persisted, culminating in the Kiwanja massacres in November 2008 (Reynaert 2011, 39). MONUC’s mission was nowhere more shameful than in Kiwanja: “With a 120-strong peace-keeping force only half a mile away, it did nothing to prevent the killing of 150 people between 4 and 5 November 2008” (Lemarchand 2009, 128). Subsequent agreements, such as the March 23 Agreements signed in 2009, aimed at integrating rebel groups into the national army but later resulted in the splintering March 23 (M23) rebel movement, targeting ethnic minorities (McKnight 2014, 2 to 4). On April 4, 2012, the rebel group, which had been subsumed into the army, revolted, complaining of poor treatment. Later, in 2012, they launched an offensive, seizing Goma and several other towns (Lawal 2024). Tensions and conflict have since escalated, with rampant distrust and frustration. While Human Rights Watch does not categorize this period of time as ‘war,’ or even ‘failed peace efforts,’ it can be understood as a “festering wound” (Human Rights Watch 2009; Swart 2012, 60). A wound that will not heal by itself but perhaps that has also been poked and prodded by people who should have left it alone.

From 2010 to 2024, the DRC continued to suffer from political instability, violence and further failed peace attempts. Despite Joseph Kabila’s re-election in 2011, the legitimacy of the electoral process was widely criticized, leading to disputes and unrest. Efforts to end the conflict included the signing of accords and the deployment of UN intervention forces in 2013, aimed at disarming rebels in the east (Wolfs 2013, 18 to 21). However, protests erupted in 2015 over proposed electoral law changes seen as perpetuating Kabila’s hold on power. A political deal in 2016 aimed to delay the presidential election until 2018, but the country continued to face humanitarian crises due to conflict-induced displacement (BBC 2019). The 2018 presidential election was marred by controversy, with accusations of government interference and protests from opposition candidates. Despite opposition candidate Felix Tshisekedi being declared the winner, allegations of a deal with the government fueled further unrest. The resurgence of the M23 rebel group in 2022, seizing territory and advancing towards Goma, underscored the ongoing security challenges (Human Rights Watch 2022). Despite the deployment of regional and UN troops, the M23 rebels continued their advance in 2023 and 2024, highlighting the failure of peacekeeping efforts to address the root causes of conflict and instability in the DRC. These events demonstrate the deep-seated political tensions, governance issues, and regional complexities that have hindered the pursuit of peace in the DRC, perpetuating a cycle of violence and instability.

The persistent failure of peace efforts in the DRC since 1999 underscores a critical need to reevaluate the means and methods employed in mediation and negotiation attempts. Despite numerous initiatives and agreements to resolve conflict, sustainable peace has remained elusive, including the Lusaka Ceasefire Agreement, the Inter-Congolese Dialogue, and various peace accords. Research has increasingly highlighted deficiencies in the effectiveness and inclusivity of these processes, from bureaucratic machinations to surface-level or symbolic attempts at getting to the root of cycles of violence, raising fundamental questions about why shortcomings persist and what can be done to address them. Yet, despite growing awareness of these issues, there appears to be a lack of concerted action to overhaul existing approaches to peacebuilding in the DRC. This raises broader questions about the political will, resources, and international commitment necessary to implement meaningful change and foster lasting peace in the region.

Mediation frameworks and analysis: the role of regional and international actors

The mediation and negotiation attempts in the DRC have been marked by many strategies and frameworks, reflecting the complexities of the conflict and the challenges inherent in resolving it. Examining the history of peace attempts in the DRC, various practices can be identified, most less successful than others, and it is through analysis that we might learn from past practices in establishing new ways to approach peace.

From autonomy lending to more authoritative intervenors

One of the prominent mediation strategies evident in the DRC’s peace initiative is third-party interventions. However, there is a helpful scale to identify how these interventions allow for autonomy in the peace process or assume more authoritative roles: roles range from an ally, attorney, ambassador, auxiliary (facilitator), arbitrator, adviser, adjudicator, and authority (Lempereur et al. 2021, 37). These eight approaches are listed on a continuum from more party autonomy towards control by the third party. Throughout the years, different actors and organizations have assumed these roles in attempts to mediate between conflicting parties in the DRC. An example of an intervenor who might take a more ally or attorney role could be the African Union (AU), the New Partnership for Africa’s Development, the Southern African Development Community (SADC), the International Conference on the Great Lakes Region (ICGLR) and Uganda, due to their regional proximity, cultural understanding, and vested interests in fostering indigenous solutions. In 2005, the AU and the New Partnership for Africa’s Development formulated and adopted a plan for conflict resolution and post-conflict reconstruction (Ahere 2012, 2). Unfortunately, despite the numerous peace talks and with backing from multiple actors, including the UN, the DRC continued to experience high levels of violence and insecurity. This was around the same time MONUC was expressing ‘force by any means,’ and shortly before, in 2004, the sexual exploitation and abuse came to light, relevant because such actions would have undermined any autonomy-lending peace practices if larger, more authoritative actors were counteracting those initiatives. The resurgence of M23 in 2012 and 2013 sparked further autonomy-lending intervention from the AU, SADC, ICGLR, and Uganda, where the SADC took up the role of military protectorate; initially wanting to come under the AU, the SADC force ultimately became part of MONUSCO for financial reasons (Wolters 2020, 23). Spurred by the M23, peace talks were pursued, and a cooperation framework was signed (Wolters 2020, 24). However, two things become apparent: the regional peace initiative depended on international financial support, and in contexts where autonomy-lending intervenors rely heavily on international backing for logistical, financial, or military support, their autonomy and effectiveness may be constrained by the interests and priorities of external stakeholders.

MONUC and MONUSCO exemplify a more authoritative role as intervenors due to their status under UN authority: as externally appointed entities, they operate within a defined mandate and authority to enforce peace agreements, as seen by the clause “all necessary means to fulfill its mandate” (Reynaert 2011, 38). However, the concurrently running Inter-Congolese Dialogue and the MONUC and MONUSCO missions exemplify an attempt to find a balance between an ‘autonomy-lending’ intervention and a more authoritative one. The failure of this balance lay in the synchronization of these efforts, as the pace and priorities of peacekeeping operations did not align with the negotiation processes (Swart and Solomon 2004, 26 to 27). Perhaps there is more to say for official mediation talks alongside ‘peacekeeping’ operations. Arguably, the real failure lies in the authoritative intervention represented by an international actor with a historically controversial background instead of a regional actor.

By delineating between autonomy-lending and more authoritative intervention in third-party mediation efforts, it is possible to recognize the approaches to intervention as on a spectrum. The significance of this distinction becomes evident in understanding how different actors and organizations navigate their roles and influence the peace process. Regional intervenors often bring cultural understanding and vested interests in fostering local solutions. At the same time, international actors like MONUC and MONUSCO operate under defined mandates but may face challenges in building trust and legitimacy. Moreover, the analysis highlights the need to explore how to better and more effectively synchronize mediation talks with peacekeeping operations to achieve a more cohesive approach to conflict resolution, and how to choose and fund the force. The SADC lacked the means, and MONUSCO lacked efficiency and, arguably, empathy, so there exists a vacuum in a legitimate, respected, and trustworthy peacekeeping force. Ultimately, this analysis encourages further reflection and dialogue on considering autonomy-lending and more authoritative intervention in third-party mediation efforts, emphasizing the need for strategic coordination and resource allocation to address the complexities of conflict effectively.

Underlying motivations and the best alternative to a negotiated agreement

Remarkably, scholars and researchers can ascertain why peace has failed and how to mediate ‘better’ with more solutions and different approaches. Yet, it is unclear what the forces and civilians on the ground want. Perhaps this is why the ‘historical narrative’ section in this paper struggled to grasp the underlying perceptions driving narratives of conflict; it is unclear what the underlying motivations are. In their 1981 book Getting to Yes: Negotiating Without Giving In, Roger Fisher and William Ury coin a relevant term and implicitly offer another layer of analysis: The BATNA, the Best Alternative to a Negotiated Agreement (Fisher and Ury 2011, 73). While self-explanatory, in the context of the DRC, it refers to the perception of when violence is worth more than any negotiated agreement. Understanding the BATNA of different rebel groups and factions can shed light on their motivations, goals, and potential for reaching a peaceful solution.

In the DRC, various rebel groups have emerged, each with grievances, agendas, and BATNAs. These groups often arise from ethnic tensions, economic disparities, and political marginalization, seeking to challenge the central government’s authority or advance specific interests. For instance, the M23 rebel movement, which resurged in 2012 and 2013, aimed to challenge the government’s legitimacy and gain control over resource-rich territories in the eastern region. Their BATNA, on the surface, appears to include continued military engagement, territorial expansion, and leveraging external support to advance their cause. However, it is impossible to honestly know without asking and instead assuming or projecting what they might want. Other rebel groups, such as the Allied Democratic Forces (ADF) and the Democratic Forces for the Liberation of Rwanda (FDLR), have pursued their agendas through violence, seeking to destabilize the region and exploit its resources. Their BATNAs may revolve around maintaining control over lucrative mining areas, engaging in illicit activities such as smuggling and extortion, resisting government efforts to dismantle their operations, or wanting to feel listened to. The bottom line is that knowing about someone else’s BATNA holds power: the point at which an actor is willing to walk away from a peace process is a crucial point to be aware of (Fisher and Ury 2011, 73 to 78). What one group perceives as a viable alternative to negotiation may differ significantly from another’s perspective. Hence, recognizing the fluidity and variability of BATNAs highlights the need for nuanced and context-specific approaches to mediation and conflict resolution. Furthermore, BATNAs can inform strategies for engagement and negotiation, helping mediators and policymakers identify potential areas of compromise and leverage. By recognizing the factors that drive rebel groups’ decision-making processes and their thresholds for accepting or rejecting peace agreements, stakeholders can develop more effective interventions that address underlying grievances and promote sustainable peace.

It is essential to acknowledge the difference between a BATNA and an agenda: while several ceasefires and agreements have been contingent on ‘complete withdrawals’ or veiled ultimatums, the UN and MONUC and MONUSCO, by extension, are shaped by geopolitical interests, humanitarian concerns, and peacebuilding objectives. While these intervenors aim to facilitate dialogue, protect civilians, and support governance reforms, their effectiveness depends on political will, resource allocation, and coordination with local stakeholders. These agendas can influence how they define and pursue their BATNA in negotiations and peacekeeping efforts, for example, what underlying motivations validated the use of potentially excessive force in ensuring peace? However, these agendas may also face tensions or contradictions, as pursuing one objective may conflict with another or the interests of local stakeholders and rebel groups. Therefore, it is beneficial to consider the interplay between agenda and BATNA for designing effective intervention strategies that address and identify what different agendas and BATNAs may exist.

Another layer worth examining presents itself: many proxy actors and conflicts exist in the DRC, where one belligerent is a non-state actor supported by an external third power (Eltringham 2006, 434; Lemarchand 2009, 121). Thus, there are the local actors (rebel groups and factions, and the Congolese army and government), neighboring countries and regional actors (the AU and SADC as peace advocates, and combative forces from and conflicts with Rwanda and Burundi), international actors (the UN and the MONUC and MONUSCO missions), and proxy actors (Rwanda’s proxy in North Kivu through Conseil National pour la Défense du Peuple (CNDP) and constructed ‘Tutsi’ identities as “proxy colonists”) (Eltringham 2006, 434; Lemarchand 2009, 121). All of whom have their own BATNAs and agendas. This complexity highlights the importance of recognizing and understanding the diverse motivations and interests in the DRC conflict and the potential for external interventions to exacerbate rather than resolve tensions. Effective conflict resolution strategies must navigate these intricate dynamics while addressing the root causes of conflict and promoting sustainable peace.

In the context of all the different actors in the DRC, recognizing their BATNAs reveals insights into their motivations, goals, and willingness to engage in peaceful resolution. However, discerning these BATNAs poses challenges, as complex agendas and power dynamics often obscure them. It is essential that a ‘Best’ Alternative to a Negotiated Agreement could easily mean a ‘worst’ case scenario. The warning, and danger, lies in identifying the BATNA or worst-case scenario before it is too late. By recognizing the diverse motivations and objectives of actors involved in conflict, stakeholders can develop interventions that address underlying grievances and promote sustainable peace. However, navigating these dynamics requires vigilance and flexibility to adapt strategies to evolving circumstances.

Overcoming impasses in the DRC: lessons from mediation

A persistent challenge in mediation attempts in the DRC has been addressing impasses, stalemates, and deadlocks. The differences between the three are subtle: A stalemate refers to a situation where progress in negotiations halts due to an inability to reach an agreement, an impasse denotes a temporary suspension of the talks due to a disagreement or obstacle, and a deadlock indicates a complete cessation of the negotiations resulting from an irreconcilable disagreement or inability to move forward (Dawson 2021, 53 to 58). The ICD serves as a poignant example of the difficulties faced in mediation efforts: the peace dialogues were perceived by many analysts and observers as negotiations driven more by a military stalemate than a genuine desire to make significant progress or engage in constructive dialogue (Swart and Solomon 2004, 26). Initially intended to pave the way for a new political dispensation to free the Congolese people from foreign occupation and interference, the dialogue faced numerous deadlocks. These deadlocks led to a situation where low-intensity conflict remained the preferred option, the BATNA, for many external actors involved in the mediation process. Despite efforts to employ various mediation strategies, including the “Set-Aside Gambit” to resolve minor issues first to build momentum, the persistence of deadlocks highlights the entrenched nature of the conflict and the challenges of finding mutually acceptable solutions (Dawson 2021, 53). Different negotiation strategies relevant to the context can be pursued in differentiating between impasses, stalemates, and deadlocks. In a complex context like the DRC, regenerating momentum in mediation requires a multi-faceted approach. First, it should consider the interests and not the positions; this includes differentiating between the surface-level demands and the genuine motivations of the actors involved and their BATNAs (Ury 1993, 9). Then, focusing on more minor demands or interests is more manageable than immediately going for the most significant points of contention (Dawson 2021, 53). However, genuine political will to resolve differences is also necessary. The point is that while mediation strategies such as the “Set-Aside Gambit” and others can effectively address impasses and stalemates, they may not be sufficient to overcome deep-seated deadlocks rooted in fundamental disagreements or power imbalances. Therefore, a nuanced understanding of the underlying dynamics of the conflict, coupled with a comprehensive approach that combines creative negotiation techniques with genuine political commitment from all parties involved, is essential for making meaningful progress toward lasting peace in the DRC.

Ethical dilemmas and fundamental differences: negotiating in a polarized context

Negotiating in a polarized context presents many ethical dilemmas and challenges rooted in deep-seated fundamental differences among conflicting parties. The complexity of negotiations in the DRC goes beyond simple, one-issue scenarios, requiring consideration of multiple variables, tactics, and strategies. Effective negotiators must navigate multi-issue negotiations with complexity, uncertainty, and diverse perspectives. However, negotiating ethically becomes increasingly challenging in such contexts, as many people, including negotiators and third-party mediators, engage in unethical behaviors stemming from unconscious psychological processes, a phenomenon known as bounded ethicality (Malhotra and Bazerman 2007, 130 to 131). Negotiating in a polarized environment exacerbates these challenges as attitudes and opinions become more entrenched, leading to heightened emotions and ego involvement (Grim 2013, 107). Rationality in such contexts necessitates strategies that enable negotiators to transcend their personal biases and emotional attachments to positions. The work of negotiation experts like Ury and Fisher provides valuable insights into mitigating polarization and fostering constructive dialogue. They advocate for techniques such as “going to the balcony” to gain a detached perspective on the issues and ego-distancing to reduce personal identification with positions (Ury 1993, 22). Furthermore, shifting from positional negotiation, where parties adhere rigidly to specific positions, to a mutual exploration of underlying interests and principles can facilitate resolution (Grim 2013, 108). In the DRC, where conflicts often stem from deep-seated grievances and power struggles, these negotiation frameworks can help negotiators navigate ethical dilemmas and bridge fundamental differences. However, the practical application of these strategies requires increased awareness of psychological pitfalls and a commitment to upholding ethical standards (Malhotra and Bazerman 2007, 33 to 37). Negotiators must recognize their vulnerability to bounded ethicality and actively work to mitigate unconscious unethical behaviors. However, as ‘an outsider looking in,’ these strategies and recommendations sound like idealistic theories where the on-the-ground reality makes it much more difficult to ‘go to the balcony’ or be aware of bounded ethicality (Mathys 2017, 487). The complexities and dynamics of the conflict in the DRC often defy theoretical frameworks and prescribed solutions. Negotiators must grapple with the harsh realities of entrenched polarization, deep-seated grievances, and power struggles that permeate every aspect of the negotiation process. Any theory or analysis projected onto this reality is insufficient and thus necessitates a nuanced, context-specific approach. Therefore, these written ramblings hope to elicit further awareness and contribute to relevant discourses. Negotiating in a polarized context like the DRC demands a delicate balance of theory and practice, empathy, and pragmatism. While negotiation frameworks offer valuable insights, they must be tempered with a deep understanding of the socio-political dynamics and cultural nuances inherent in the conflict. The challenges of ethical dilemmas and fundamental differences underscore the need for negotiators to transcend their personal biases and actively work toward genuine dialogue and reconciliation. The journey towards sustainable peace and stability in the DRC is fraught with complexities and uncertainties. Still, meaningful progress can be achieved through a nuanced, context-specific approach. These reflections serve as a call to action and a testament to our collective responsibility to contribute to positive change in the region.

Recommendations for action: new ways to approach peace and mediation in the DRC

Customizing peace: tailoring mediation efforts for Congo’s context. Mediation efforts in the DRC must be tailored to the region’s unique socio-political dynamics and historical grievances. Flexibility in mediation strategies is crucial to addressing local communities’ specific needs and aspirations, considering their cultural sensitivities and aspirations for sustainable peace.

Empowering voices: inclusive dialogue for Congo’s peace. In advocating for inclusive dialogue aimed at fostering peace in the DRC, it is imperative to engage a diverse array of stakeholders, including civil society organizations, community leaders, women, youth, and marginalized groups. This inclusive approach allows for a comprehensive understanding of the complex dynamics at play within the conflict. A 2010 report from the Initiative for Peacebuilding on mediation lessons from Eastern DRC advocates for international actors to prioritize the development of robust local networks to facilitate the integration of locally derived analysis into broader discussions and policy formulations at both national and regional levels (Nsengimana, Kemenade, and Tobie 2010, 19 to 20). However, in doing so, it is crucial to recognize the potential risks associated with inadvertently undermining local mediation efforts. Indeed, specific conflicts may necessitate resolution at the grassroots level, where those directly impacted possess a vested interest in achieving lasting peace. Thus, international support should be channeled towards bolstering local mediation initiatives and building the capacity of grassroots organizations to effectively engage in conflict resolution activities aligned with broader peacebuilding strategies.

Building peacebuilders: strengthening capacity for conflict resolution. Investing in DRC capacity-building programs for local mediators and peacebuilders is essential for fostering sustainable peace processes and promoting community ownership of peacebuilding endeavors (Lemarchand 2013, 433). These initiatives aim to equip local actors with enhanced skills in conflict resolution, negotiation techniques, and dialogue facilitation. By strengthening their capacity in these areas, local peacebuilders can be more active and influential in mediating conflicts and facilitating peace initiatives within their communities. Moreover, empowering local actors in conflict resolution fosters a sense of ownership and agency over peacebuilding efforts, ensuring that initiatives are tailored to affected communities’ specific needs and contexts. This approach promotes greater inclusivity and representation in peace processes and enhances the sustainability and resilience of peacebuilding initiatives in the long term.

Ethical mediation: upholding standards for peace negotiators. It is imperative to establish transparent, ethical standards and guidelines for negotiators and third-party mediators engaged in peace processes within the DRC. Training initiatives should be implemented to raise awareness of ethical dilemmas and bounded ethicality among mediators, thereby mitigating the risk of unconscious unethical behavior and preserving the integrity of the mediation process (Malhotra and Bazerman 2007, 130 to 131). These programs should offer comprehensive guidance on ethical conduct, emphasizing the importance of impartiality, transparency, and respect for human rights principles.

Collaborative solutions: applying effective mediation frameworks. Encouraging collaborative approaches that prioritize mutual exploration, objective criteria, and joint problem-solving over positional negotiation is essential in promoting sustainable peace processes in the DRC. As advocated by negotiation experts such as Ury and Fisher, these frameworks emphasize building trust and fostering constructive dialogue among conflicting parties, thereby facilitating the resolution of complex issues arising from the conflict. By promoting a shift away from adversarial tactics towards cooperative problem-solving, stakeholders can create an environment conducive to mutual understanding and compromise. Moreover, collaborative mediation strategies promote inclusivity and empower stakeholders to participate actively in the negotiation process, ensuring their interests and concerns are adequately addressed. Through effective mediation frameworks, stakeholders can work together to identify shared goals and develop mutually beneficial solutions, ultimately contributing to the sustainable resolution of conflicts in the DRC.

Development for peace: integrating conflict-sensitive approaches. Incorporating conflict-sensitive approaches into development programs in the DRC is crucial for addressing the underlying causes of conflict, fostering socio-economic inclusion, and enhancing community resilience. These approaches aim to identify and mitigate factors contributing to conflict, such as structural inequalities and grievances, while promoting sustainable development. By integrating conflict-sensitive strategies into development initiatives, stakeholders can work towards long-term peacebuilding and stability in the country. This involves not only addressing immediate needs but also tackling systemic issues that perpetuate violence and instability. Furthermore, fostering socio-economic inclusion through development programs can empower marginalized groups and reduce the likelihood of conflict by addressing underlying grievances and disparities.

Sustained commitment: prioritizing long-term peacebuilding efforts. To prioritize long-term peacebuilding efforts in the DRC, stakeholders must commit to sustained investment and dedication. Long-term strategies to foster trust, reconciliation, and social cohesion are crucial for laying the groundwork for durable peace and stability in the country. This requires continuous support and engagement from national and international actors to ensure peacebuilding initiatives are effectively implemented and sustained over time. By prioritizing sustained commitment to peacebuilding, stakeholders can create a more peaceful and stable environment in the DRC, benefiting current and future generations.

SUMMARY *

The article’s most distinctive move is to treat the outsider’s gaze as itself part of the problem rather than as the vantage point from which the problem is described. On this reading the reclassification of continuing war as post conflict crisis, the bureaucratic elaboration of the Amani process, and the peacekeeping presence that was everywhere except the front line are not failures of execution but expressions of a way of seeing that mistook the surface for the whole. The analytical sections then apply negotiation concepts to that record and arrive at a consistent finding: each framework requires knowledge of what the parties actually want, and that knowledge has rarely been sought from those who hold it. The recommendations follow from this and converge on local capacity, inclusion and sustained presence rather than on new architecture.

CONCLUSION

Mediation is a pivotal mechanism for peacebuilding and navigating the complexities of conflict and identity within the DRC. The interplay between conflict and identity underscores the intricate nature of peace negotiations, which require a nuanced understanding of the historical context and the underlying catalysts driving violence. While mediation and negotiation frameworks are indispensable tools in this pursuit, bridging the chasm between theory and reality remains a formidable hurdle. Amidst staggering death tolls and widespread displacement, a sense of fatalism pervades discussions about Congo’s plight. Despite numerous peace agreements, the cycle of suffering persists, fueled by entrenched tensions and inequalities. Yet, sustained commitment to long-term peacebuilding offers hope for a brighter future. Prioritizing strategies that nurture trust, foster reconciliation, and promote social cohesion holds the promise of addressing the root causes of conflict, paving the arduous path toward enduring peace in the DRC. However, failure to heed this call risks perpetuating the cycle of violence and suffering, casting a shadow over the prospects for a brighter future in the heart of Africa.

POTENTIAL SOLUTION *

The article twice arrives at a finding it does not quite claim, and stating it plainly is the most useful thing that can be added. When the author observes that the BATNAs of the armed groups cannot be known without asking, and again when the recommendations converge on local capacity, the same conclusion is in view: the mediation record described here consists almost entirely of processes designed and convened by people who were not going to live with the outcome. Autesserre, whom the article cites, made this the centre of her work: international intervention in the Congo concentrated on the national and regional levels because those were the levels its practitioners understood, while the violence was substantially local, driven by land, authority and identity in particular hills and villages, and reproduced itself there regardless of what was signed elsewhere.

That diagnosis has a corresponding practice, and it exists. Community based mediation over land disputes, customary authority and returnee reintegration has resolved local conflicts in North and South Kivu that no national agreement touched, conducted by Congolese organisations at a fraction of the cost of any summit. Its weakness is that it is unglamorous, difficult to attribute, and impossible to announce. Supporting it substantially, and resisting the impulse to coordinate it from above, is the single change most likely to alter the pattern the article describes.

Three points belong alongside this. The resource dimension is treated here as a factor and is better understood as the financing mechanism that makes armed groups viable: the certification schemes and due diligence regulations developed over the past fifteen years represent a serious attempt to address it, their record is mixed, and they remain the only instrument that operates on the economy of the conflict rather than on its politics. The regional dimension similarly requires naming: successive United Nations expert reports have documented external support to armed groups on the ground, and a process that treats the eastern conflict as internal while that support continues is negotiating with the wrong parties. And the framework agreement of 2013, which the article mentions in passing, remains the most complete statement of what a settlement would contain, with commitments by the DRC on security sector and governance reform and by neighbouring states on non interference; it failed on implementation and monitoring rather than on content, which suggests that the missing element is enforcement rather than another text.

Two observations on the article’s own frameworks. The scale from ally to authority is a useful lens and its application here points to something the author does not draw out: the same body cannot occupy both ends. A mission mandated to use force against armed groups cannot simultaneously mediate with them, and the attempt to combine the roles is a substantial part of why MONUSCO has been distrusted by every party. Separating protection from facilitation, and placing them in different hands, is a design correction available now. And on the difficulty of ascertaining what armed groups want, systematic work exists: research programmes have interviewed combatants across dozens of groups in the Kivus, and the recurring findings are protection, land and status rather than ideology or mineral wealth, which is a considerably more tractable set of interests than the framing of the conflict usually assumes.

Finally, the article’s insistence on its own outsider position is more than a disclaimer and deserves to be honoured in the way the field is organised. If the analysis is right that distance produces the misreadings it describes, then the corrective is not better analysis at a distance but the transfer of authorship: Congolese researchers, mediators and organisations conducting the work and setting its terms, with external actors supplying what they can supply, which is money, access and pressure, and withholding what they cannot, which is judgment about what the people concerned want. That is the conclusion this article’s own premises support, and it is a demanding one.

* Added by the WMO Editorial Team

REFERENCES

[Bibliography as in the original manuscript]

Supplementary references added by the WMO Editorial Team

Lusaka Ceasefire Agreement, 10 July 1999; Global and All Inclusive Agreement on the Transition in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Pretoria, 17 December 2002.

Peace, Security and Cooperation Framework for the Democratic Republic of the Congo and the Region, Addis Ababa, 24 February 2013.

United Nations Security Council Resolution 2098 (2013) establishing the Force Intervention Brigade, and the reports of the Group of Experts on the Democratic Republic of the Congo.

Report of the Mapping Exercise documenting the most serious violations of human rights and international humanitarian law committed within the territory of the Democratic Republic of the Congo between March 1993 and June 2003, OHCHR, Geneva, 2010.

Autesserre, S. (2010). The Trouble with the Congo: Local Violence and the Failure of International Peacebuilding. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge.

Autesserre, S. (2021). The Frontlines of Peace: An Insider’s Guide to Changing the World. Oxford University Press, New York.

Vlassenroot, K., & Raeymaekers, T. (Eds.) (2004). Conflict and Social Transformation in Eastern DR Congo. Academia Press, Ghent.

Life and Peace Institute and Congolese partner organisations, documentation on community based conflict resolution in North and South Kivu.

Organisation for Economic Co operation and Development, Due Diligence Guidance for Responsible Supply Chains of Minerals from Conflict Affected and High Risk Areas, Paris.

Windowless and Unintelligible: Case Studies of Diplomatic Grey Areas Within International Organizational Diplomacy

How to cite this journal: Author, Date of the post, WMO Conflict Insight, Title of the post, ISSN: 2628 6998, https://worldmediation.org/journal/

ABSTRACT

An intricate web of diplomatic grey areas is prevalent within international organizations; accountability and transparency are words frequently floating around in the discussion of international relations. This paper focuses on three case studies: sexual exploitation within United Nations (UN) peacekeeping forces as an expression of political corruption, coercive diplomacy as practiced by the African Union (AU) and International Monetary Fund (IMF), and the World Trade Organization’s (WTO) elusive approach to transparency, accountability, and participation. By analyzing these cases, this paper seeks to shed light on the complex challenges international organizations face in addressing these issues and the implications for global governance, public trust, and accountability frameworks. The paper’s findings highlight the significant impact of political corruption within international organizations and that a behavioral ‘contagion effect’ is experienced, where an environment of impunity further perpetuates the extent to which diplomatic grey areas are prevalent within international organizational diplomacy. Establishing more transparent and legally binding accountability frameworks, designing transparency and accountability systems that support each other, and enhancing and protecting whistleblower policies are the suggested measures to combat diplomatic grey areas and promote ethical diplomacy.

KEYWORDS

Coercive Diplomacy, International Organizations, Political Corruption, Policy, Transparency, Accountability, Global Governance, Public Trust, Ethical Diplomacy, Hard Power, Soft Power, Oppression.

INTRODUCTION

Diplomacy has achieved many feats since its earliest conceptualization. From diplomatic customs being created and representatives sent abroad as early as the third millennium B.C.E. to its role in Ancient Greece and its significant transformation in the interwar period: how we understand ‘diplomacy’ is continuously changing.[1] Carne Ross, in his tales of an ‘unaccountable elite,’ argues that perhaps diplomacy’s “greatest achievement” is the “lattice of multinational bodies and institutions that spans the globe.”[2] But it is Ross’s commentary that inspires this paper: he comments that the institutions that make up this lattice are “like vast windowless bastions studding the landscape. Although their purpose may be good, their inhabitants nameless and invisible, their workings too often unintelligible and hidden.”[3] Throughout this paper, I outline to what extent Ross’s scathing statement holds truth: from exploring the link between transparency and accountability to identifying three strands of diplomatic grey areas and analyzing relevant case studies, my thesis statement echoes Ross’s beliefs. Without transparency, there is no accountability, and without accountability, impunity sets a precedent, breeding a dangerous, collective behavior that fosters morally grey decision-making. The psychological phenomenon of ‘collectivism’ is a particularly peculiar framework of analysis in the context of international organizations, one that plays a role in identifying and offering policy solutions for ‘the problem’ of grey areas within international organizational diplomacy. Further included in this paper are policy solutions that tie into transparency and accountability as significant themes. But, as Julie Andrews sings in The Sound of Music: “Let’s start at the very beginning; a very good place to start,” which, in this case, would be defining diplomacy.[4]

R.P. Barston establishes the practice of diplomacy as “advising, shaping and implementing foreign policy,” acknowledging the widening content of ‘modern diplomacy,’ but Jean-Robert Leguey-Feilleux takes a different approach.[5] Leguey-Feilleux goes beyond diplomacy as a “method of interaction” and comments that diplomacy “implies a method of behavior.”[6] With this in mind, I introduce what should be at the core of diplomacy: at its heart. And, while, to a certain extent, diplomacy will always be about politics and different expressions of power, it should be for the people. At its core, it should be about people. Diplomacy, as a ‘method of interaction’ on an international scale, has an ethical responsibility, and its actions must, therefore, be able to be held accountable.

Diplomatic grey areas within international organizational diplomacy can be identified within three strands that interlink and build on each other: firstly, a lack of transparency, which includes the accessibility and ability to disseminate information, inhibits frameworks that measure and effectuate accountability. Second, this lack of transparency, and thus decreased capabilities to hold others accountable, creates an environment of impunity, which bleeds negative behavior models into international organizations founded on notions of collectivism. Lastly, these combined factors create an environment that self-perpetuates cycles of morally grey actions and decisions, furthering the extent to which diplomatic grey areas exist within international organizations.

MAIN CORPUS

Beyond the three strands of diplomatic grey areas: problems in theory

A lack of transparency, inaccessible accountability, and an environment of impunity are the foundations for understanding the magnitude of harm diplomatic grey areas can cause. The most dangerous consequence is the environment of immunity, the fostered mentality of being able to ‘get away with it.’ In the International Studies Quarterly journal, Emilie M. Hafner-Burton and Christina J. Schneider write about “The Dark Side of Cooperation: International Organizations and Member Corruption,” introducing collectivist behavior models within international organizations. Hafner-Burton and Schneider make the alarmist observation that “substantial literature documents how IOs [international organizations] act like social clubs that teach (or socialize) members to accept and abide by the norms of the organization.”[7] And while that argument has mostly been applied to or been assumed to have been associated with ‘positive’ norms, such as ethical responsibility and a dedication to human rights, the opposite is true too. Hafner-Burton and Schneider affirm that “scholars in the field of organizational behavior have widely documented a contagion effect for corruption at the workplace.”[8] The apparent consequence of widespread corruption is that whistleblowers do not stand a chance if the system is broken, ultimately protecting the wrong people. But all this does not really mean anything. These are merely words describing ‘the possible consequences of harm.’ Ross encaptures this phenomenon perfectly: there is a “difference between description and reality, the indefinable component of human experience,” and that is precisely what is so easy to miss.[9] What leaders in international organizations miss when they are playing a “key role in the institutionalizing of [amoral reasoning].”[10] The true harm of diplomatic grey areas can only be understood after analysis of political corruption ‘in action’ and applying a human rights lens to glimpse who suffers and what is being done about it.

The relationship between member states and international organizations

As the world continues to develop, from diversifying nation-states seeking sovereignty to developments in technology and artificial intelligence and their role in international relations, diplomacy will have to continue to adapt. International organizational diplomacy is a response to increasingly complex problems in a continuously growing interdependent world.[11] International organizations and institutions, non-governmental organizations, and supranational organizations have become important actors within diplomacy. It is essential to consider the relationship between states and international organizations, identify how, or to what extent, issues of attribution and responsibility are assigned, and analyze the implications of collective behavior within international fora. Also worth outlining are the conditions that breed political corruption and at what point coercive diplomacy crosses into a ‘grey area’ of international organizational diplomacy. The information below will provide the basis for the case studies to build and draw.

International organizations and institutions practice diplomacy entirely differently than nation-states. From the origin and development of international organizations’ ability to exert influence to the nature of decision-making processes, the relationship between international organizations and member states offers insight into policies on accountability. International organizations obtain jurisdiction through the treaties that create them or through state membership in decision-making processes.[12] And while member state governments remain the “primary actors” in international organizations, international organizations’ authority and capability to make binding decisions is increasing.[13] Advances in communication technology have aided international organizational activity to extend beyond what was previously possible: from global networking with like-minded groups and sharing information instantly to mobilizing support and associated movements and launching campaigns, their influence is now a crucial factor in international affairs.[14] However, the extent of international organizations’ autonomy within their decision-making ‘power’ remains debated. Realism paints a rather grim picture of the scale to which member states exert power within and through international organizational diplomacy.

Realists argue that institutions in a realist world “recognize that states sometimes operate through institutions [and that any rules established] reflect state calculations of self-interest primarily on the international distribution of power.”[15] Senior research fellow Dr. Tobias Lenz at the GIGA German Institute of Global and Area Studies argues that the degree of international organizations’ autonomy depends on the purpose or focus of the organization. ‘General-purpose organizations’ that share certain historical, cultural, and geographical features express a sense of “shared purpose:” delegation is widespread, and they tend to “empower autonomous actors.”[16] Examples of such organizations include the European Union, the Southern African Development Community, and the Association of Southeast Asian Nations. On the other hand, ‘task-specific organizations,’ built around a specific problem or policy domain, conventionally use “majority voting to take decisions and are less predisposed to empowering autonomous actors.”[17] Examples of task-specific organizations include the World Bank, the International Civil Aviation Organization, and the European Free Trade Association. The question of responsibility relies on identifying the specific relationship between states and international organizations and the degree to which states confer powers to international organizations.[18]

Issues of attribution and responsibility within international organizations

There are several strands of attribution and responsibility that depend on the internal structure of an international organization; the unfortunate truth of most situations, however, is that these strands are easily tangled, and accountability is abandoned. In cases where states exercise clear or effective control over an international organization, any acts committed are attributable to the states in question, thus establishing “primary responsibility under international law.”[19] However, if such control is ambiguous, or the member states themselves commit acts of wrongdoing or omissions, then the United Nations International Law Commission has a formula of attribution in the Articles on State Responsibility for Internationally Wrongful Acts in 2001 with a parallel approach to international organizations.[20] Under the ILC formula, the “debate of responsibility is largely reduced to the technical question of to whom the act should be attributed and by what standard.”[21] The problem lies in that, while technical in implication, the act of attribution becomes a choice, a debate, burdened with political and moral consideration, causing “great legal uncertainty on the application of the rules of attribution.”[22] Further technical complexities lie in the categorization of organs and officials within international organizations on issues of attribution. The term ‘organic link’ is used to refer to the status of an individual or specific entity forming an integral part of an international organization, where the subject in question answers to the rules of the organization with which they are linked or whom they represent.[23] However, even here, the threads of attribution are far from clear and seemingly tangled: for example, peacekeeping forces are considered an organic link to the United Nations; however, the actual troops are supplied by specific member states, where the question of attribution, and hence responsibility and accountability, is muddled.[24]

The growing influence of international organizations and the extent to which more are being established across the world today implies that the nuances and complexities of policies and frameworks on issues of attribution and responsibility will only increase to overlap and exist in conflict with each other.

Collective behaviour within international organizations and resistance to change

Diplomacy is rife with ideas of collectivism: the “I” becomes “we,” and individual perspectives, beliefs, and morals are subsumed into a generalized set of standards. Ross explains this phenomenon regarding diplomats representing elected governments, expressing that “the creation of a separate political and moral identity for a group of people, the policy makers of foreign policy, must inevitably risk artifice, arbitrariness and a lack of accountability.”[25] Furthermore, this behavior pattern, of what ‘we’ really feel about something, is continuously reinforced through language and action. Through counter-facts and card stacking, Ross confesses that “facts” are often chosen “to suit the policy, and not the other way around.”[26] This is the real danger of collectivist behavior, to carry on with a specific, carefully curated version of reality.

Hafner-Burton and Schneider echo this behavior model within international organizations. The sense of community and collective identity can be taught implicitly or developed subconsciously, where individual staff “adopt the culture and policies that look similar to their peers.”[27] The ‘contagion effect’ of negative behavior patterns also extends beyond merely mimicking and participating in morally grey actions and decisions; ignoring or enabling the negative behavior of others is enough to facilitate the problem. Institutionalized behavior models go beyond amoral reasoning and carry an “institutional reluctance to change.”[28] Dr. Simon Adams, Executive Director of the Global Centre for the Responsibility to Protect, states that “diplomatic institutions always lag behind changes in the real world. They are by their very nature institutionally conservative.”[29] If international organizations are conservative by nature and shrouded in secrecy and a lack of transparency in practice, it calls into question their approach to diplomacy and the extent to which they can operate effectively.

Understanding political corruption

Political corruption is defined as the “misuse of public office for private gain entailing dishonest or fraudulent conduct by those in power,” where Hafner-Burton and Schneider comment that the presence of corruption must coexist with three specific factors.[30] These three factors include control over the allocation of resources, the possibility of obtaining tangible profit, and a “reasonably low probability of detection or penalty.”[31] This is where the conditions for political corruption and collectivist behavior models intersect: low probability of detection or penalty relies on an environment of ignoring or enabling the corrupt behaviors of others. It is why metaphors of collectivism ‘breeding’ negative behavior models and the ‘contagion effect’ are so apt: corruption almost has a life of its own, and an environment of enabling others or looking the other way is enough to make it grow and expand across an organization.

Coercive diplomacy: hard power, language, and oppression

Coercive diplomacy can be understood as “forceful persuasion.”[32] It aims to “compel changes in behavior using threats, sanctions, and withdrawal or denial of rewards,” amongst others.[33] There are several conflicting arguments around the use of coercive diplomacy. Some argue that the intent to cause harm is amoral, whereas others view coercion as a helpful tool; this serves as the backdrop for the extent to which coercive action crosses into ‘grey areas’ of diplomacy and to what degree international organizations employ coercive tools.

Within coercive diplomacy, force and pure violence do not “automatically follow” but merely convey the potential threat of violence.[34] Kofi Annan, a former UN Secretary-General, once somberly observed that “you can do a lot with diplomacy, but diplomacy backed up by force, you can get a lot more done.”[35] The use of diplomacy on a non-violent basis does not mean it “rejects coercion” in its entirety, where the use of force or the threat of force is common in all aspects of international relations regarding matters of economic or geographical importance.[36] The argument that coercive diplomacy does not solely employ violent or military tools references “economic sanctions, international condemnation or isolation, and even the promise of rewards like aid, loans, and technology transfers” as justifiable in pursuing peace.[37] However, the slippery slope lies in the event of non-compliance after an ultimatum is left unanswered and there are no “set time limits for unspecified action” as a response to defiance.[38] This coercive action “moves diplomacy into a grey area.”[39] This is also where notions of ‘hard power’ play a role in understanding coercive diplomacy, as scholarship informed by realism continues painting an unrealistic picture of ‘hard’ power only in its most visible expressions.[40]

The subtle, non-tangible expressions of hard power can be found in language, perceived only through a post-colonial lens, decentering ‘The West’ to understand coercive diplomacy within systems of oppression. Pinar Bilgin and Berivan Eliş analyze hard power and soft power and make the following observation: “Things do not just happen in politics; they are made to happen, whether it is globalization or inequality. Grammar serves power.”[41] Bilgin and Eliş cite that the evidence is most visible in the “Third World,” where “Western representations construct meaning and ‘reality’ in the Third World.”[42] This ties into Ross’s words on the distance between where the conversations are taking place and the decisions are being made and about who is actually impacted by the consequences of those decisions.[43] Within these lenses, expressions of ‘hard power’ include language that perpetuates systems of oppression: it is infused and entangled in the social world to such an extent that international relations are infused with bias in expressions of power. Bilgin and Eliş continue with the idea that notions of power shape the “formation of actors’ consciousness,” where “defining what an actor’s ‘real interests’ are is not free from power relations.”[44] From agenda-setting to decision-making processes, oppressive language is inherent in how international relations are discussed and debated: coercive diplomacy now covers a larger area of actions.

The extent to which coercive diplomacy exists within international organizational diplomacy ranges from the obvious to the less tangible expressions of hard power: from the unprecedented threat of military force from the African Union against Burundi’s wishes in 2015 following political unrest after a controversial third-term re-election campaign,[45] to the “coercive nature of loans” from Bretton Woods Institutions to Liberia to help rebuild after the Civil War,[46] there are numerous examples of the most visible expressions of hard power as coercive tools. The other aspect of international organizations and institutions is that, by nature, they work with and help vulnerable populations. In these instances, examples of political corruption and sexual exploitation point to power imbalances between the staff of international organizations and the people they are meant to protect.[47] Coercion here becomes a literal, vulgar thing where the oppressive power imbalances speak to the failures in the larger systems in play.

Limitations of research and its implications

There is an irony in a research paper on international organizational diplomacy’s transparency and accountability if the implications are true and if there is a lack of transparency. The task then becomes about finding and accessing relevant research and case studies. The nature of the research is, to some extent, sensitive because it requires the organizations in question to be transparent on the prevalence of ‘grey areas’ and their failings in establishing or upholding effective accountability frameworks and policies. Transparency is so important precisely because the public plays a role in ensuring accountability.[48] The development of technology and the ease with which it is possible to publish information online has created a positive push on mobilizing people to put pressure on international organizations to focus on the humanitarian perspective within any context they operate in but has also ensured the necessity of a heightened sense of secrecy within diplomacy. Scholarship on the transparency and accountability of international organizations and other actors within diplomacy will no doubt be continuous and ongoing as some of the current failings of answerability and responsibility continue to be unraveled and unveiled.

Sexual exploitation and abuse by UN peacekeepers in the Democratic Republic of the Congo and the Central African Republic

The case studies below detail the uproar and abundance of literature that exists on sexual exploitation within United Nations peacekeeping forces as an expression of political corruption and research that tiptoes around coercive diplomacy as employed by the AU and the International Monetary Fund. There exists, too, a published growing dissent on the World Trade Organization’s approach to transparency and accountability.

There exists an abundance of evidence and scholarship gathered on sexual exploitation perpetrated by UN peacekeepers dating back to 2010; the heartbreaking reality is that this is still ongoing. An article released on the ninth of June of this year details how more sex abuse allegations have been uncovered in the Central African Republic and that sixty peacekeepers will be sent home.[49] The widespread sexual abuse dating back a decade is a testament to the culture of impunity that exists and offers an insight into the immunity enjoyed by the UN and its civilian personnel. Research asserts that although the privileges and immunities granted are important to protect the peacekeepers against unwanted interference by host states, “they significantly contribute to a culture of impunity.”[50] The UN does not have the power to ensure legal accountability because of jurisdictional bars in bilateral agreements, where troop-supplying countries are reluctant to prosecute peacekeepers for acts of misconduct.[51] The abuse of power and sexual exploitation is made worse by the status of the offenders as purported protectors. Francesca Lilly, a contributor to the University of New South Wales Law Journal, posits the following: “As the UN rules the roost, maintaining peace through whatever means it sees fit, we must ponder quis custodiet ipsos custodes? Who will guard the guards themselves?”[52] Against the backdrop of the history of sexual abuse, it is clear that current accountability frameworks cannot be said to be effective.[53]

Beyond the perpetrated sexual abuse, the bigger picture points to corruption within the system, emboldened by a “general inefficiency and lack of interest or commitment by judicial staff.”[54] Not only are peacekeepers failing as protectors, but the system founded on humanitarianism is failing the people it is supposed to support. Thus, the cycle perpetuates itself: “Victims’ rights are violated a second time by a lack of access to justice and perpetrators are emboldened knowing that it is easy to ‘get away’ with such crimes.”[55] The lack of commitment to justice and accountability made individuals who suffered sexual abuse and wanted to report it feel like it would be pointless.[56] Further implications of this are that reported incidents of sexual exploitation and abuse are underreported, where the thousands that suffered at the hands of soldiers and other personnel deployed to the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Haiti, and the Central African Republic are left voiceless and without justice. The impunity and lack of accountability around cases of sexual exploitation and abuse point to a system failing on all accounts of attribution, answerability, and justice.

The African Union and coercive diplomacy: the case of Burundi

The controversies surrounding the eligibility of then-president Pierre Nkurunziza for a third term resulted in demonstrators taking to the streets and violence exploding with military forces intensifying the domestic crisis.[57] The AU’s threat of intervention never materialized; however, it raises questions as to the sovereignty of member states in relation to the authority of the AU.[58] The attempt to authorize a military intervention was “unprecedented” in that it was the first time the AU threatened to use “military force against the de jure government of one of its members” in the event of non-compliance.[59] Scholarship has since identified why the AU failed to follow through on their threat: beyond Burundi’s “astute diplomacy” and the considerable foreign financial and logistical support that would be needed, the debate on intervention created a politically toxic environment between African governments, where there was a resistance to setting a precedent for future interventions where civilian concerns would override state sovereignty.[60] The implications go beyond initial worries over setting a precedent as, in the incident that the AU Assembly had authorized a military intervention, it would have required a UN Security Council resolution passed under Chapter Seven of the UN Charter.[61] The mission’s mandate referenced the potential use of force “beyond self-defense and in defense of the mission’s mandate,” where the unspecified use and extremity of force raises questions as to the authority of the mission under international law.[62] The role of accountability is also unclear; to what extent the mission would have been monitored and its personnel held accountable for their actions beyond that of self-defense is left unspecified. The case of coercive diplomacy in Burundi opens an avenue for further research and dialogue about the authority of international organizations and institutions in defending humanitarian intervention and the need for clear frameworks of attribution and jurisdiction in the case of ‘unspecified’ action.

The International Monetary Fund and coercive diplomacy: Africa as case study

Over the last two decades, the IMF has played a significant role in global financial governance. Through loans, the IMF provides emergency financing to economically fragile states and has recently been active in surveilling, recommending, and enacting policy.[63] However, a crucial aspect of IMF loans is conditionality: borrowing countries’ policies “have to be in line with the purposes of the Fund,” where the number of conditions has steadily increased over time.[64] Scholarship has questioned the effectiveness of conditionalities regarding the local regimes and commitment by country authorities and that “serious reforms” are needed in the current practice of long-term loans.[65] The topic of conditionality becomes particularly controversial within a neocolonial lens. Regarding financial aid in Africa, its history fraught with narratives of exploitation and oppression under colonial rule, the introduction of financial aid institutions was primarily understood as “colonial institutions, which were alien as well as tools of exploitation and oppression.”[66] This mindset has prevailed chiefly, with the IMF being a lender of ‘last resort,’ where the ‘choice’ to accept loans and their attached conditions is “an illusion.”[67]

In the 1980s and 1990s, the World Bank and IMF increased their monitoring and enacting of policies in African countries by “privatizing state institutions.”[68] Christian Aid estimates that as a result of liberalization, sub-Saharan Africa had lost “$272 billion over the past 20 years,” where had they not been forced to liberalize, they would have been able to pay off their debts and have sufficient funds left over to reinvest in local economies.[69] To offer a clearer example: “Countries like Kenya, Nigeria, and Zimbabwe, which could feed themselves from 1960 to the 1980s, were, by the 1990s, forced to import food.”[70] As a result, some have described the IMF and World Bank as “a dictatorship of nameless and unaccountable technocrats,”[71] almost exactly echoing Ross’s words of the ‘windowless bastions’ that share “one indivisible characteristic, they are not accountable for their actions.”[72] The IMF is an institution founded on coercive policies where they are not held accountable for the consequences of their conditionalities. The history of mandatory loans and associated conditions in Africa necessitates a post-colonial analysis lens.

Transparency, accountability, and participation in the World Trade Organization

The WTO has previously been subjected to scrutiny concerning barriers to participation and transparency in the accessibility and dissemination of information. Mark Halle, the Executive Director at the International Institute for Sustainable Development Europe, and Robert Wolfe, a professor in the School of Policy Studies at Queen’s University in Kingston, examine different approaches to transparency and accountability in the WTO and remark that transparency is “one of the fundamental norms of international trade [and] is generally accepted as both legitimate in itself and essential to modern governance.”[73] Although the WTO boasts of dozens of transparency procedures and norms, it still often insists on secrecy and resists participation by social and economic actors.[74] This becomes problematic in the WTO’s summit commitments and regime obligations, where agenda-setting is inaccessible, and there is a clear power hierarchy in decision-making processes. Accountability mechanisms are also crucial in understanding the gaps between “promise” and “action.”[75] At one level, transparency is seen as necessary to measure accountability between the WTO members and the WTO’s broader commitments. Halle and Wolfe affirm the two-directional link between transparency and accountability and introduce a third strand: legitimacy.[76] Thus, transparency and accountability play an essential role in the legitimacy of an international organization.

Recommendations for action or policy

Establishing clearer and legally binding accountability frameworks. As is demonstrated by the example of the policies on attribution concerning peacekeepers as organic links to the UN versus under the jurisdiction of the country to which the forces belong, accountability frameworks may look sufficient on paper but could be more effective in reality. Particularly beneficial would be a combined approach of external evaluation from numerous independent agencies, as well as through an internal, self-critical culture.[77] Scholarship echoes that “the true challenge lies in operationalizing and implementing accountability principles in a manner that reflects the nature and needs of the individual organizations,” as well as, arguably, the people the organizations pledge to support.[78]

Designing transparency and accountability systems that support each other. Transparency and accountability can look different within different organizations. The relationship between them “depends on the extent to which they are designed to support each other.”[79] Part of this comes into play in the accessibility and dissemination of research and information: it needs to be relevant and clearly communicated, where the “indefinable component of human experience” always needs to be taken into account.[80]

Enhancing and protecting whistleblower policies. Accountability should act like a chain of events: if an act of wrongdoing has been committed and witnessed, there needs to be a consequent series of events. And while enhancing accountability frameworks and policies plays an important part in this, internal whistleblowing structures need to be promoted and encouraged where the follow-through on the next steps is widely communicated, and the chain of events set in motion is clear to everyone, including the perpetrator and relevant supervision. In crimes in an international context, including third-party victims, as in the example of sexual exploitation and abuse in the Central African Republic and the Democratic Republic of the Congo, the chain of events, including attribution and jurisdiction, needs to be transparent here, too, with options to follow up on the timeline or status of the process of justice.

Further critical analysis into conditions that perpetuate diplomatic grey areas. It is likely that further instances of political corruption, sexual exploitation, and coercive diplomacy in neocolonial contexts will continue to come to light, and calls for greater accountability will sound from individuals and organizations across the globe. It is, therefore, essential that scholarship and research are ongoing into issues that are ‘widespread’ and speak to larger systematic and institutional failings in ethics and accountability. Only at the root can ‘grey areas’ be eradicated and true change achieved. Considering the limitations of this research and the potential shortcomings in the irony of lack of transparency and accessibility to case studies, agents within international organizational diplomacy should invite third-party agencies to evaluate beyond what accountability looks like on paper and how it is practiced and effectuated in reality.

SUMMARY *

The article’s argument is that the three cases are expressions of a single structural condition rather than separate institutional failures. Where an organisation is opaque, its conduct cannot be measured; where conduct cannot be measured, no one can be held to account; and where accountability is absent, the resulting impunity is not merely tolerated but transmitted, because organisations socialise their members into prevailing norms whether those norms are good or bad. The author draws the three cases from different points on a spectrum of visibility: sexual exploitation by peacekeepers, where the harm is unmistakable and the attribution nonetheless fails; coercive diplomacy by the African Union and the IMF, where the coercion is acknowledged but its legitimacy contested; and the procedural opacity of the WTO, where nothing appears to be wrong at all. The final move is the most distinctive, namely the argument that coercion operates through language and framing as well as through sanctions and force, and that its least visible forms are the hardest to hold to account.

CONCLUSION

The case studies have painted a rather bleak picture of the realities and extent to which coercion, corruption, and exploitation exist within international organizational diplomacy. But with the ever-changing nature of diplomacy, how states interact, and the growing influence of international organizations, the manner in which all these actors interact and hold each other accountable will continue to change. It is up to us, the scholars, the aspiring diplomats, and the professors and mediators already in the arena, to continue to advocate for transparency and accountability. It is only then that we can truly serve those who need it the most. Those who are at the heart of diplomacy.

POTENTIAL SOLUTION *

The article’s diagnosis is sound and the mechanism it identifies can be specified more precisely, because doing so points toward remedies that have actually worked.

Take the peacekeeping case, which the author rightly treats as the clearest instance. The failure there is not primarily cultural but jurisdictional and entirely deliberate. Under the model status of forces agreements, troop contributing countries retain exclusive criminal jurisdiction over their own personnel, which means the United Nations can repatriate an accused soldier and can do nothing else. The measures adopted in response, the Zeid report, the zero tolerance policy, the Secretary General’s Special Coordinator, the Trust Fund for victims, and the publication of allegations by nationality, have improved reporting and produced almost no prosecutions, for the simple reason that none of them touches the jurisdictional bar. What would touch it is the reform that has been proposed repeatedly and not adopted: conditioning troop deployment on a binding undertaking to prosecute, with on site courts martial and reporting of outcomes to the United Nations. Immunity, meanwhile, is capable of being waived by the Secretary General and rarely is; a standing presumption of waiver in cases of alleged sexual offences would cost nothing legally and change the calculation considerably.

The children born of these relationships deserve mention because they are the point at which the accountability gap becomes generational. Paternity and support claims against peacekeepers have almost never succeeded, since the claimant must litigate in the contributing state’s courts with no assistance and no access to the evidence. A dedicated mechanism handling DNA testing, paternity determination and support orders, funded from the existing trust fund, is administratively straightforward and has been recommended for years.

On the coercive diplomacy cases, one distinction would sharpen the analysis. Conditionality attached to voluntarily sought assistance and coercion applied to a state that has not asked for anything are different acts, and the article’s IMF case sits between them: formally the borrower chooses, and where the alternative is default the choice is nominal. That is precisely why the debate about conditionality has moved toward country ownership of programmes, participatory design and streamlined conditions, and why the results remain contested. The African Union case is different again and instructive for the opposite reason: the threat failed not because it was illegitimate but because the organisation lacked the means to execute it, which suggests that the accountability question and the capability question are separable and that the second constrains the first.

Two additions would complete the picture. Transparency is necessary for accountability and does not produce it, as the research the author cites establishes: disclosure without a body empowered to act on what is disclosed generates information and no consequences, which is why independent inspection panels, ombudsperson offices and complaint mechanisms accessible to affected populations matter more than publication policies. The World Bank Inspection Panel is the working example, and the absence of an equivalent across most of the system is the gap. And whistleblower protection within international organisations is weaker than in most national jurisdictions, because staff have no recourse to domestic courts and depend on internal tribunals whose independence has been repeatedly questioned; strengthening those tribunals is the precondition for any protection policy to mean anything.

Finally, the article’s insistence that diplomacy is ultimately about people deserves to be carried into the recommendations. Every mechanism described here is designed to be operated by lawyers, officials and researchers. The person in a village near a peacekeeping base who has been harmed by someone wearing a blue helmet needs a complaint route that is local, in her language, free, and connected to something that will actually happen. Accountability that is only legible to the accountable is the condition the author set out to describe.

* Added by the WMO Editorial Team

REFERENCES

[Bibliography and footnotes 1 to 80 as in the original manuscript]

Supplementary references added by the WMO Editorial Team

Report of the Special Adviser to the Secretary General on Sexual Exploitation and Abuse by United Nations Peacekeeping Personnel (Zeid Report), A/59/710, United Nations, 2005.

United Nations General Assembly Resolution 62/214 (2007), United Nations Comprehensive Strategy on Assistance and Support to Victims of Sexual Exploitation and Abuse.

Model Memorandum of Understanding between the United Nations and troop contributing countries, and the Model Status of Forces Agreement, A/45/594.

Draft Articles on the Responsibility of International Organizations, International Law Commission, 2011.

Convention on the Privileges and Immunities of the United Nations, 1946, Section 20 on waiver of immunity.

Ferstman, C. (2013). Criminalizing Sexual Exploitation and Abuse by Peacekeepers. United States Institute of Peace, Washington, D.C.

World Bank Inspection Panel, operating procedures and annual reports, Washington, D.C.

Grigorescu, A. (2007). Transparency of Intergovernmental Organizations. International Studies Quarterly, 51(3), 625 to 648.

Withdraw from Contract / Vertrag widerrufen