Hidden layers: ulterior motives for contributing to UN peacekeeping missions

Memorial for the killed Belgian UNAMIR soldiers, Kigali (Rwanda) - by JA ALT, via Wikimedia Commons
Memorial for the killed Belgian UNAMIR soldiers, Kigali (Rwanda) - by JA ALT, via Wikimedia Commons

Memorial for the killed Belgian UNAMIR soldiers, Kigali (Rwanda) – by JA ALT, via Wikimedia Commons

 

By Iona Mulder – 

 

While UN peacekeeping missions have the intention and mandate to bring peace and stability, they come with a cost. Since the first mission in 1948, 3.599 UN-soldiers have died. Certain countries share the biggest losses in peacekeeping soldiers under UN flag: 137 soldiers from Ghana lost their life during a mission, 163 Indian nationals, 122 Canadian, 150 soldiers from Nigeria, 142 from Pakistan, 114 Ethiopian soldiers of which 29 in a relatively recent mission in Darfur, and this list is extensive. What motivates states to send their troops to foreign places to solve conflicts that are not their own? After the members of the Security Council decided to establish a peace mission, the challenge begins to bring together sufficient troops to enable the mission. As the UN does not have its own army, this responsibility falls on the shoulders of its member states. The question whether or not to contribute troops will lead its own political life in every member state country. A good example is the debate in the Netherlands in 2013 on the contribution to the UN mission in Mali. Some parties were against the mission; the SP and PvdSD were of the opinion that the aim of the mission was too ambitious, the PVV stated that it was the responsibility of ‘the Muslim countries’ to control the extremists in the north of Mali.

 

It seems to be expected that those states that are motivated to contribute troops are states that pioneer in the protection of human rights and who are not preoccupied with conflict within their own borders. However, over the last two decades, the opposite seems to be the case, as countries in Africa and Asia were the largest contributors of troops (more specifically Nigeria, Rwanda, and Ethiopia; Bangladesh, India, and Pakistan). These countries are not particularly known for their internal stability, now and in the past, or for their good human rights records. Why, then, do these nations make such effort to bring peace and stability elsewhere?

 

What these countries have in common is that they have little political power within the UN, which is mainly in the hands of the permanent members. Moreover, they share an ambition to expand their political influence in the UN and international politics in general. They believe that delivering troops to the peace keeping mission will develop their political network, creating a political credit that will result in more inclusive politics within the UN. Another motivation for these states to participate is that the UN provides a sum of money to cover the expenses of the missions, which will help to upgrade their army through the received training, the materials and salary. Besides these shared motivations, every government has its own incentive to contribute troops based on the political situation at national level.

 

Rwanda is one of the countries which in recent years contributed a relative amount of troops to UN missions. I will use Rwanda as an example to show how political situations at the national level can motivate the state to contribute to international peacekeeping missions. In 1994, Rwanda itself was subject of a peacekeeping mission to avoid escalation of violence between Hutu and Tutsi: the mission became one of the biggest failures in the history of UN peacekeeping operations. After the killing of ten Belgium blue helmets by Hutu militia, most of the contributing countries decided to withdraw their troops, leaving the Rwandan people to their fate. Between April and July 1994 an estimated of 800.000 people, mainly Tutsi, were killed. Finally, an army composed of Tutsi refugees, the Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF), invaded Rwanda from Uganda, took over power and put a stop to the mass killing.

 

Since 2004 Rwanda has become one of biggest providers of troops to the UN and the AU (African Union). On their first mission, the 150 Rwandese soldiers received much respect as they were well trained, disciplined, and there is a broad inclusion of woman within their army. Within Rwanda, they are presented as national pride. During my research on how the current Rwandan government is legitimatizing its power, I found that the contribution of troops to the UN is an essential element of the government’s policy. The current government mainly consist of those associated with the RPF, its power in the country is legitimized by the effort to stop the genocide and create a climate of stability and security. At the international level, this legitimization is strengthened by the guilt of international failure to stop the genocide, which puts the RPF on a higher moral level than the international community. Many scholars have called this type of power legitimization “genocide credit”.

 

This “genocide credit” is essential for the Rwandan government for two reasons. First of all, it has made Rwanda a “donor darling”. The relatively rapid recovery of the country after the genocide and continuing economic growth has been made possible due to vast sums of donor money that were pumped in the reconstruction of the country. Now, twenty-two years after the genocide, around half of Rwanda’s national budget is still generated by donors. Much of Rwanda’s national stability is therefore dependent on the continuity of this flow of donor money. Secondly, another effect of this genocide credit is that for many years after the genocide, it was seen as politically incorrect to critically examine the Rwandan government’s policy. As a result, the international community has overlooked or ignored the fact that the Rwandan government’s policy is not as pretty as it seems at first sight.

 

A decade after the genocide the “genocide credit” started to crumble, making space for international criticism on the Rwandan government. More and more foreign countries were criticizing Rwanda for not respecting democratic values and human rights. Moreover, as many countries point out, is that the government’s reconciliation program is resulting in censorship and social inequality. It is here that the peacekeeping missions come into the picture. The Rwandan government needed to revitalize the “genocide credit” by reconfirming its high morale. The peace keeping missions provide the perfect opportunity to do so; contributing to peace and security in the rest of the world, stop genocide from happening in other countries, and help Africa to solve its own in problems. The contribution to the UN peacekeeping missions is thus a way to repaint a positive picture to the world and distract the international community from the negative elements of its national policy. It can be stated that the Rwandan government is abusing the peacekeeping mission to restore its power.

 

The question that remains: is practicing politics by means of UN peacekeeping missions by definition a bad thing? I am of the opinion it is not, only if the motivations of the contributing countries contradict the aims of the peacekeeping missions itself. More importantly, the contribution to peacekeeping missions by relatively smaller and less influential countries can provide a tool for nations to develop political power to oppose the power of the permanent member of the UN – making the UN more inclusive and democratic. The positive contribution of these countries should not be uncritically accepted as a reflection of their national politics, as there is more to it than good intentions. The case of Rwanda is the perfect example.

 

From Hatred to Hope: Rwandan airwaves against animosity

Photo: Arja Oomkens
Photo: Arja Oomkens

Photo: Arja Oomkens

By Arja Oomkens

In Rwanda, the radio is deeply interwoven into the social fabric of everyday life. Wherever you travel, from the capital city to the rolling hills beyond, the frequencies of the radio resound. On a hazy morning in Kigali, I too find myself listening to the radio while waiting for a Rwandan friend. This is my second visit to Rwanda and I am excited to tell him about my plans to conduct research on the role of the radio in the country. When my friend finally arrives, I ask: “do many Rwandans still listen to the radio?” He smiles and replies that everyone does and even if they do not have a radio at home, people will visit their neighbors to listen together. When I continue to ask if there are things that are not allowed over the airwaves, he looks surprised and says: “Of course there are. People have the right to say what they think, but not something that would destroy this country.”

During the genocide in Rwanda, the private radio station Radio-Télévision Libre des Milles Collines (RTLM) functioned as an important tool for the genocidal authorities to disseminate their hate propaganda against the Tutsi ethnic group. RTLM dictated the rules set-up by the genocidal government and presented this playfully in a talk show format. In its daily programs, announcers made historical allusions by recalling the foreign origin of Tutsi and thereby claiming this ethnic group had no right to be Rwandan. Tutsi were dehumanized as “cockroaches” and stereotyped on the basis of their physical appearance. But the macabre practical use of RTLM was only realized during a later stage of the genocide, when the radio station even directed Hutu perpetrators by providing specific information on how, where and when to kill. After the genocide, RTLM was prohibited and one of the main RLTM announcers, Ferdinand Nahimana, was found guilty of indirect and public incitement to commit genocide by the United Nations International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda (UNICTR).

Given the propagandist role of the radio during the 1994 genocide, the Rwandan media sector has been the subject of special attention to both the Rwandan government and foreign non-governmental organizations (NGOs). For the RPF-led government, the aim to unify and reconcile Rwanda goes hand in hand with upholding a high level of censorship for the media sector. In 2002, the RPF established a law against “divisionism.” This law prohibits “any act of division that could generate conflict among the population or generate dispute.” Like my Rwandan friend noted before, it is not allowed to say anything that would destroy the country. On the same note, referring to someone’s ethnic background is also strictly prohibited. But what exactly falls into the category of forbidden words and utterances that could “destroy the country”? Here, the government to this day remains anything but clear.

Despite this lack of freedom, the RPF did allow the media sector to slowly open up in 2003, when it legalized private radio stations. Therefore, and since the radio remained as popular as before the genocide, several non-governmental organizations (NGOs) have incorporated the radio as a means to sensitize and reach out to the population. One of those NGOs is Radio La Benevolencija (RLB), a Dutch initiative that combines education and entertainment to encourage “hope, empowerment and benevolence.” Since 2004, their radio-soap called Musekeweya (meaning “New Dawn”) can be heard twice a week over the Rwandan airwaves.

RLB has fundamentally changed the use of the radio in Rwanda. Conceptualized as a media intervention, the purpose of Musekeweya has been to relief some of the psychological pressures that, according to RLB, contribute to transgression into mass violence. The main pressure to which RLB refers in Musekeweya is the practice of scapegoating (or the encouragement of hate and fear towards the “other” group). In the radio-soap, examples are provided that explain how scapegoating can contribute to deterioration into violent conflict. Inherently related to these examples is the idea that an understanding of the influences that lead to mass murder and genocide will reduce the possibility of recurring violence.

In the 2003 Design Document of Musekeweya, RLB made clear that the radio-soap would not be about the legacies of the 1994 genocide, as this would have been too distressing in regard to the traumatic experiences almost every Rwandan had gone through. Instead, their objective has been to identify and promote positive role models in Rwandan society. These role models have been incorporated into the main storyline of Musekeweya, wherein the citizens of two fictional villages, “Muhumuro” and “Bumanzi,” are entangled in a conflict over land distribution. To heighten tensions between the villages, and with the aim to create an understanding amongst the audience that the radio-soap is similar to Rwandan history, the citizens from Bumanzi and Muhumuro have been given a different, yet unnamed and equally fictional, ethnic identity. In doing so, RLB believes that a safer space is created for the audience to discuss and reflect upon sensitive and traumatic issues that are currently present in their own country or village.

A prominent example of promoting positive role models that runs through the storyline of Musekeweya is the love relationship between Shema, a man from Bumanzi, and Batamuriza, a woman from Muhumoro. On both sides, their parents try to convince them not to relate with someone from the other village, because of the long-lasting and deeply rooted conflict between the villagers. Rather than listening to their parents’ negative statements about the people from the other village, Shema and Batamuriza decide to marry each other. In doing so, they move away from the conflict between the two villages (and their families). The moral of the story is clear: Shema and Batamuriza do not only personify present-day difficulties of interethnic love and marriage in Rwanda, they also present the possibilities of transitioning into a peaceful society. More specifically, by presenting how Shema and Batamuriza overcome the conflict of an older generation, RLB envisions to prevent scapegoating and overcome passivity in times of crisis.

Even though the current media landscape is very much restricted, RLB has been able to address sensitive issues by drawing a fictional, yet clear and transparent, analogy to Rwandan history. In doing so, RLB actively supports a change in the meaning and function of the radio. This change has been clear throughout the conversation I had with my Rwandan friend. When I asked him whether he was familiar with the radio-soap Musekeweya, he replied: “of course I do, everyone does. It is a theater show that makes us laugh and brings us together.” Our conversation demonstrated that the radio continues to be interwoven into the social fabric of Rwanda, but that the loom is now different. Thanks to the efforts of RLB, the radio has changed from being a symbol of hate and destruction to one of hope and reintegration.

See for further reading: Ervin Staub, The Roots of Evil: The origins of genocide and other group violence (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1989).

Rwanda: Memory Management of the Younger Generation

Photo: Ivo Posthumus/Flickr (CC BY-NC-ND)
Photo: Ivo Posthumus/Flickr (CC BY-NC-ND)

Photo: Ivo Posthumus/Flickr (CC BY-NC-ND)

By Arja Oomkens

As 2014 marks the twentieth anniversary of the genocide in Rwanda, the country is moving away from its past but the painful burden is still vividly engraved in the minds of the Rwandan population. The difference with twenty years ago is the more prominent, and hopeful, voice of the younger generation. For children growing up in post-genocide Rwanda, life has not been easy. Many young ones lost their parents, almost everyone faced death in their immediate family and 1,2 million children were left orphaned.[1] Even for those that were born after 1994, life has not been without challenges. They are expected to remember the tragic events of the past and often have traumatic memories transposed onto them by close relatives. Even so, their voice is hopeful and their perspective of the future is bright.

That young Rwandans differ from the older generation is reflected in the way they perceive older relatives. During my research in Rwanda in the summer of 2013, many young interviewees (between 16 and 25 years old) explained that they feel that the older ones continue to live in the past while they prefer to focus on the future. In an interview, a seventeen-year-old boy from Byumba, the Northern part of Rwanda, stated that “old people are the ones that make you remember the differences… the young ones work together and play together. But once you go back home, they will make you remember that the friend you are playing with is the son of the bad guy… you know.” Another example that often came up is that marrying someone from “the other side” is not done and will most probably be prohibited by older relatives. Reasons given are that the other person is the daughter or son of someone that was responsible for the deaths in their family or, from the other perspective, that his or her family is the reason why most of “our” family is in jail. While this reasoning leads to much frustration among the youth, they are aware of the differences between the younger and older generation. One day, a Rwandan friend eloquently characterized this difference: “old people are like trees, they do not bend. For us, it is much easier.” Even though the younger generation has to deal with many imposed challenges, they do not stigmatize as much as the older one. As many young Rwandans demonstrated in their interviews, they are prone to engaging in dialogue and don’t shy away from critical assessments of their older relatives.

How did the context of post-genocide Rwanda create a social space to develop these young and bright perspectives of the future? One of the most important reasons is the top priority of the RPF-led government to create access to education. Rwanda has seen remarkable improvements in enrollment rates at primary schools. In 1997, there was a primary net enrollment rate (NER) of 65,3 percent, which rose to approximately 94,2 percent in 2008. With a NER average of 70 percent in 2006 for the whole of Sub-Saharan Africa, Rwanda finds itself well above average. With this grand improvement for primary education, Rwanda has evidently invested in the future of the young generation. In doing so, the government has created the foundation for further stabilization of the country.

Yet, Rwanda’s educational policies make it questionable whether these high access rates to primary education are truly promising for its youth. According to the government of Rwanda, the education system has to train citizens to be “free of any type of discrimination, exclusion and favoritism and thus contributing to the promotion of peace…” Ethnic differentiation is forbidden by government policy: All Rwandans belong to the same identity and must act accordingly.

Hence, in school, the youth learns not to criticize in order to attain the politicized purpose of national unity. The outcome of this policy is meant to be beneficial, as it is supposed to encourage the aspirations of the youth to live in an integrated and peaceful society. Yet, the downside is that critical thinking is not allowed outside the boundaries of the government-approved narrative. Therefore, to talk politics in Rwanda is a practice that makes its citizens nervous, as they are afraid to say anything that could be interpreted as criticism towards the government. This stands in sharp contrast with the earlier described mind-set of the progressive younger generation – who have shown themselves to be excellent critical thinkers when it comes to their perception of the “undbendable” older generation.

If young Rwandans already show that they are willing to work and play together and are able to move away from the embittered mindset of the older generation, it seems that there is space to allow critical thinking, especially on a political level. Critical thinking, in the form of open dialogue, allows young Rwandans to become objects, and not just subjects, on the road towards peace. Instead of their memories being managed by one imposed narrative, the younger generation must be given the possibility to manage their own memory and transform this into positive action.

[1] Paul Geltman and Eric Stover. 1997. “Genocide and the Plight of Rwanda’s children: letter from Kigali.” Journal of the American Medicial Association 277(4): 289 – 294.