P2P is not flawed
because it's hard to implement; it's hard to implement because it's a paragon
of moral illogic
by Rajan Menon
It is now a commonplace belief that a worldwide
diffusion of human rights norms occurred following the Cold War, creating a
consensus favoring humanitarian intervention. The cachet acquired by
the “Responsibility to Protect” (R2P) is proffered as proof of this
proposition.
This is wishful thinking. Armed
humanitarian interventions since the aftermath of the Cold War have been
selective, poorly executed, strategically naive, morally incoherent and even
dangerous. Far from reflecting, let alone having contributed to, a global
consensus, they have been divisive. This is so not because the world has just
done it wrong at this early stage of R2P awareness; it is so because of flaws
in the concept itself.
The widespread support for R2P
as evidenced in official speeches and government and UN documents is profoundly
misleading. R2P cannot withstand tough tests that could theoretically transform
it into a template for future action. The reason is that when wars in support
of (supposedly) transcendent ideals entail significant costs and risks, the
major democratic powers—above all the United States—whose involvement is
essential will pull back, not least because their citizens are far less
enamored of such odysseys than are the high priests of humanitarian intervention.
The latter see altruistic sacrifice undertaken by states in the name of their
societies on behalf of others who are not their own citizens as moral, but they
are dismissive of the notion that protecting and pursuing sovereign
self-interest can ever be virtuous or moral as well. The assumption that
disinterestedness is what qualifies action as moral is a form of ethical
illiteracy. R2P is fundamentally flawed not because it can’t be implemented; it
can’t be implemented because it is fundamentally flawed.
By the latter half of the
1990s, an impassioned debate arose on how the world could best respond to mass
atrocities resulting from governments’ cruelties or incapacities. By then,
several bloody post-Cold War conflagrations had occurred, and the response was,
insofar as proponents of humanitarian intervention were concerned, dismaying.
NATO’s three-week bombardment of Bosnian Serb redoubts brought Slobodan
Milosevic to the bargaining table, enabling the 1995 Dayton Accords to freeze
Bosnia’s civil war. But what emerged was a post-conflict polity that granted
the Serbs much of their territorial gains and consisted of separate ethnic
enclaves. Moreover, it took three years of ethnic cleansing, mass rape,
concentration camps and the shelling of towns to get to Dayton. Bosnian Serb
troops exposed the fecklessness of NATO and the United Nations as they
assaulted or captured the “safe areas” that the unfortunately named UN
Protection Force (UNPROFOR) had vowed to defend. Some 100,000 people were
slaughtered in Bosnia. Prognostications of a burgeoning planetary concord on
human rights sounded surreal, not least because the Bosnian war followed an
even bigger disaster in Rwanda.