Monday, Jul. 26, 1993
Peacemaking War
By MARGUERITE MICHAELS
The sniping was almost as fierce in the corridors of the United Nations as in the streets of Mogadishu. Without bothering to notify Rome, Kofi Annan, the U.N.'s chief of peacekeeping operations, ordered General Bruno Loi, Italy's military commander in Somalia, to be "rotated back home" for insubordination. Annan denounced Loi for meeting with armed clansmen of Mohammed Farrah Aidid and refusing to carry out orders in the increasingly violent campaign to capture or kill the warlord. "Only the Italian government has the competence to decide who should lead our soldiers," responded Foreign Minister Beniamino Andreatta. The Italians, retorted a U.N. official, should "either get on the team or get off."
The furor over the U.N.'s attempt to discipline Loi quickly widened last week into a full-scale international debate over the pistol-packing tactics the peacekeepers are pursuing to destroy one of Somalia's most powerful warlords. After weeks of escalating assaults on Aidid's compounds, the Italian government, the aid community in Mogadishu and many Somali citizens charged that the attacks served mainly to broaden the war and divert attention from the primary goal of humanitarian relief. "A peace mission," said Italian chief of staff General Domenico Corcione, "is being transformed into a war operation."
Gun battles have raged in the streets of Mogadishu almost daily since 23 Pakistani peacekeepers died in an ambush last month. Blaming Aidid, the U.S. has led U.N. forces in an aggressive bid to flush him out, culminating in a daylight attack on a meeting of Aidid's top commanders on Monday. At the end of a 20-min. barrage of missiles and cannon fire from U.S. helicopter gunships, dozens of bodies lay scattered around the demolished villa. When foreign journalists arrived to view the carnage, an enraged crowd turned on them with stones, guns and machetes, killing four.
Italy, which had three soldiers killed in Somalia earlier this month, immediately threatened to withdraw its 2,400 troops unless the goals of the mission were reassessed. The Germans, who have sent only 250 of a promised 1,700-strong contingent, grumbled that it was a mistake to have soldiers in Somalia at all. In Washington, Democrat Robert Byrd thundered a warning that "the Senate has not bought into a police action against Somali warlords."
Gone are the tragic images of vacant-eyed skeletal children dying by the thousands in Somali villages. In their place are equally troubling images of shell-shattered civilians and Mogadishu mobs, fists raised in anger against the mounting violence. "It is more dangerous today in Mogadishu than at any time during the civil war," says Howard Bell, country director for the relief agency CARE.
Anger is focused squarely on the U.S. The helicopters and missiles responsible for the civilian casualties are almost entirely American. While the U.N. military forces are ostensibly led by Turkish General Cevik Bir, his staff is predominantly American and the real boss in Somalia is U.N. special representative Jonathan Howe, a retired U.S. Navy admiral. The determination to decapitate Aidid's faction is considered an American interpretation of the U.N. resolution calling for the capture of the Somalis responsible for the ambush of the Pakistanis. A total of 35 peacekeepers have died since May, none of them American. "The U.S. is quick to stir up trouble with air strikes," said a Pakistani peacekeeper, "but it is my men and other Third World soldiers who always draw the tough assignments on the ground."
Fear and resentment are fraying cohesion among the 20,854 troops that 29 countries have sent to Somalia. India promised a brigade for February that still has not arrived. The Kuwaitis and the Saudis will not take action without first checking with their home government. The U.N.'s move against Loi was intended to restore discipline, though the Italian high command denied that he disobeyed orders.
A growing number of critics are suggesting that the U.N. has gone off course in hunting Aidid, damaging its credibility as a neutral peacemaker. Howe insists that the U.N. remains impartial. "We oppose no clan, subclan or party," he says. "We must, however, defend ourselves and the people of Somalia against terrorist attacks and take the necessary measures to prevent such attacks." Howe is supported by the Pakistanis and others, who agree that Aidid must be removed from the scene if national reconciliation is to be achieved. That determination is shared at the Pentagon, where Secretary of Defense Les Aspin says bluntly, "There is no reason to change the course."
U.N. officials in New York City have also dug in their heels, pointing out that the Security Council has twice authorized the use of any action necessary to protect U.N. forces and bring about stability. The Italians' proposal to pursue diplomatic negotiations with Aidid instead of military force was met with derision as a tactic that has already been tried, and failed.
The disarray is clearly not going to be quieted with conciliatory rhetoric - or stand-tough bravado. The challenge facing all members of the peacekeeping team is not only how to bring stability to Somalia but also how to devise successful formulas for undertaking a more active role in post-cold war peacemaking. Even if the Loi furor is smoothed over, the real debate has just begun.
With reporting by Clive Mutiso/Mogadishu and Bruce van Voorst/Washington, with other bureaus