Many humanitarians, myself among them, have long decried the slow encroachment by military organizations in to what we call ‘humanitarian space.’ And for good reason: It has been our repeated experience on the ground that when soldiers engage in what looks and feels to civilians like humanitarian work, it blurs the distinction between us (the humanitarians) and them (the soldiers). And that blurring of distinction almost always has wildly negative consequences in the real world. Consequences that can range from aid programs simply being ineffective, all the way up to the lives of aid recipients and aid workers being put at risk.
And so it is easy to feel a sense of ominous, unspoken threat as we encounter uniformed, combat-ready military personnel while going about the work of humanitarian work, from Haiti to Afghanistan to the Sahel.
A few months ago I sat strapped in at cruising altitude for several hours next to a high-ranking officer in a well-known military organization. As passengers do, we talked about our respective jobs and lives. Through the course of our conversation it became clear to me that despite his uniform and rank, this man saw himself as a “humanitarian” (his self-descriptor). He spoke with obvious pride about his experience supporting in different ways humanitarian operations in some of the high profile disasters of recent memory – disasters where I’d also been personally part of the combined response, and where in at least one case had personally benefitted from the support provided by his organization.
While I did not and do not budge on the critical importance of maintaining the clearest possible distinction between “military” and “humanitarian” personnel on the ground, in the field, I came away from that conversation challenged to think more deeply about the nature and quality of interaction between humanitarians and soldiers, between NGOs and armies.
In particular I think that as humanitarians, we need to recognize and come to better grips with the following:
“Humanitarianism” is increasingly the mandate of military organizations. Whether it’s the 50,000 Chinese troops deployed to Sichuan for search, rescue and cleanup following massive earthquake of 2008, the USMC deployed to protect the peace in New Orleans following Hurricane Katrina, Brazilian MINUSTAH maintaining a secure perimeter at food distributions in Port-au-Prince, or Indonesian soldiers directly handing relief supplies to tsunami survivors in Aceh, we have to recognize that military actors are in “our” space to stay. It is part of their formal mandate, written into both budgets and “doctrine.” And it is part of their organizational cultures. It is also now past the point of being a “good” or a “bad” thing: It is simply a reality that is.
We need to understand The Military, but we don’t. While it’s probably true that most military actors lack a nuanced understanding of the aid world and the complexities of many of the places where we work, we also fail to understand them. Further, to the extent that military organizations see themselves as having a humanitarian mandate, they are our constituents, just like host governments, beneficiaries, and donors. We need to understand them, but we don’t. We don’t speak their language, nor do we understand their community (how many of us would know the difference, for example, between a Colonel and a Lieutenant Colonel?). We need to begin to put the same kind of effort into understanding The Military that we put into understanding The Community. And in the same way, on a personal level, we need to extend to our counterparts in uniform the same kinds of graces that we extend to those of other cultures with whom we so often claim to be so close.
The Aid Industry currently lacks the tools for engaging with the current CIVMIL reality. I’m not talking about more InterAction working groups or more workshops. I am talking about practical, reality-based engagement. I do not suggest that we recant our sacred ideals of impartiality and neutrality, but I do suggest that we adopt a less “us vs. them” approach to CIVMIL. We need, as a community, and as individual humanitarian organizations, to do more reflexive thinking on what sharing the humanitarian space means practically. There are too few examples to-date, and far too few actually being shared (although this one is sort of headed in the right direction). We can adopt stances of principled pragmatism and we can acknowledge those areas where our shared interests are shared interests without compromising our integrity as humanitarian NGOs. We can learn ourselves and teach our staff how to behave around military actors and engage interpersonally with military personnel.
If it ever even was truly “ours”, we can no longer delude ourselves about being sole owner/occupants of “humanitarian space.” As we increasingly come to occupy the same physical and conceptual spaces as uniformed military organizations it is important that we do not compromise our humanitarian stance on such things as the Code of Conduct or the humanitarian principles of humanity and independence. But it is also time to recognize that the world is changing around us, and that we need to adapt.
Transitionland
/ March 11, 2012Over the past two years, I’ve spent time in the strange no man’s land between the civilian aid community and the international military community, and I’m so glad you wrote this post. I’ve had the same thoughts many, many times as I have witnessed firsthand how little aid workers know about the military, and how poorly military officials understand civilian aid work.
But it goes deeper than that. Both communities regard each other with such suspicion, condescension, and sometimes outright scorn that their representatives, when gathered together in coordination groups, end up spending more time defending their “turf” than looking for shared interests, asking important questions, or engaging in honest discussions of concerns. For both camps, the focus quickly shifts to defending reputations and strategies. No one benefits from that, least of all survivors of conflicts and disasters. Lines absolutely do need to be drawn between civilian aid work and military activities in most contexts, but egos need to be set aside for that to be done effectively.
Also, THIS: “on a personal level, we need to extend to our counterparts in uniform the same kinds of graces that we extend to those of other cultures with whom we so often claim to be so close.”
Wanderlustress
/ March 12, 2012Great post and I definitely agree that both sides need better graces. But news today of a US soldier deliberately killing Afghan civilians will undoubtedly draw a distinct line in the local population’s mind between humanitarians acting with neutrality, and those who are American assumed to be acting under the same allegiance as our military by association. It will endanger many of us in the field. We may also be making a significant mistake not recognizing the reality that our military carry guns. We don’t.
Bravo Delta
/ March 12, 2012In a recent security training for aid workers, appropriately facilitated by current and former military personnel, one of the milit-trainers editorialized to the class by saying to the peace-nik aid workers sitting in the seats, “If you want to put yourself off-side with the soldiers” (working in the said space we share in the field) “just salute the soldiers. Nothing makes them madder,” he said! Not wanting to stir the pot in that learning environment I did not say, “If you want to put yourself off-side with the aid workers, just deliver some aid from the back of one of your military vehicles in that 1940′s chuck n truck fashion.” Despite the shared space, the main issue is the military pretty much uses delivery of aid as a PR tool, a photo op to soften the primary mandate of the military, which is kicking serious butt with the new high-tech arsenal of modern day armies that turn war into a faux video game exercise for detached automatons in crew cuts and creased uniforms. Aid workers don’t pretend to be soldiers or peace keepers. Soldiers and peace keepers should not pretend to be aid workers. They no doubt confuse civilians – who just saw their environment strafed by hardware that shares the same camo-colours as the truck that delivered the aid ten minutes later. So, aid folk, don’t salute the guys with the guns. And maybe they’ll stop trying to do something they know little about.
Caitlin Brady
/ March 13, 2012Military involvement in delivering emergency assistance is not, in my mind, the most important factor in the degradation of humanitarian space; I’m not sure it’s so new either. What worries me more is the disrespect of humanitarian space and humanitarian law shown by civilian governments, including my own.
Looking forward, the following could happen: the influence of Europe declines, and with it, neutral funding and advocacy in favor of strict humanitarianism, as represented by the work of ICRC and MSF. The influence of the US is maintained; the State Department increasingly uses its aid budget for security objectives, and those who take the money are increasingly seen as compromised. The influence of China grows, and states look not to the west for their cues about how to behave vis a vis IHL and humanitarian access but to China. China refuses to advocate for the implementation of IHL, or for granting access – indeed, considers such advocacy to be “interference” – and states more openly ignore IHL and humanitarians, following a pattern we saw in Sri Lanka, and are now seeing in Syria. ICRC and MSF get no access, despite increasingly open discussions about access constraints; and the rest of us can’t even get into the country, let alone into the affected areas. Local organizations become the sole providers of assistance, but are targeted by the government as their assistance is politicized.
I hope that this is the gloomy version of what could come, but I worry that the guys with guns distributing buckets are really the least of our worries.
Lifehopeaid
/ March 20, 2012Very good comments and thoughts. I liked the comment about treating those in uniform with the courtesy of respect afforded other cultures….A few random ones here to thow into the mix:
1) I’m increasingly uncomfortable with the implicit idea of a humanitarian mandate monopoly; that only humanitarian NGOSs ( and maybe only a small subset of those!) are entitled to provide bona fide humantarian assistance. Maybe we need to be emphasizing capacities; contextual knowledge; resources etc as primary drivers for identifying those best placed to support a particular relief effort, rather than an entity’s motivation, or ethical framework etc. Bottom line – NGOs have no monopoly on the term “humanitarian” or the work it describes,
2) There is a shameful paucity of credible information regarding affected community perceptions of humanitarian space (and what constrains it) in various contexts. Most studies I’ve seen are methodologically limited, relying almost exclusively on staff (invariably expat) perceptions of “space” issues. Not good enough. Actionaid’s study from Pakistan of a couple of years ago, a notable exception.
I was going to write more, but am iPadding…..slowly…..another time perhaps…
Sadia
/ May 7, 2012In light of your post, this may be of interest: http://globaleducationdevelopment.blogspot.co.uk/2012/05/summary-humanitarian-space-report.html
Made in China
/ November 20, 2012After I originally left a comment I appear to have clicked on the -Notify me when new comments are added- checkbox and now every time a comment is added I get four emails with the exact same comment. Is there an easy method you can remove me from that service? Appreciate it!
J.
/ November 20, 2012There may be a way, but it’s not obviously available and I haven’t found it yet. Sorry. I’ll keep looking, though.
However, I believe you can unsubscribe yourself if you scroll all the way to the bottom of the message and click the link for “unsubscribe.”