Humanitarianism Contested

Where Angels Fear to Tread

Michael Barnett, Thomas G. Weiss

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2013
• Topic: Politics & International Relations
• eBook ISBN:
  9781136814389
• Subtopic: International Relations
• Index: Politics & International Relations

This book provides a succinct but sophisticated understanding of humanitarianism and insight into the on-going dilemmas and tensions that have accompanied it since its origins in the early nineteenth century. Combining theoretical and historical exposition with a broad range of contemporary case studies, the book:

• provides a brief survey of the history of humanitarianism, beginning with the anti-slavery movement in the early nineteenth century and continuing to today's challenge of post-conflict reconstruction and saving failed states
• explains the evolution of humanitarianism. Not only has it evolved over the decades, but since the end of the Cold War, humanitarianism has exploded in scope, scale, and significance
• presents an overview of the contemporary humanitarian sector, including briefly who the key actors are, how they are funded and what they do with their money
• analyses the ethical dilemmas confronted by humanitarian organization, not only in the abstract but also, and most importantly, in real situations and when lives are at stake
• examines how humanitarianism poses fundamental ethical questions regarding the kind of world we want to live in, what kind of world is possible, and how we might get there.

An accessible and engaging work by two of the leading scholars in the field, Humanitarianism Contested is essential reading for all those concerned with the future of human rights and international relations.

1 Humanitarianism

The essentials

• What is humanitarianism?

• Driving forces

• Three historical periods

• The contemporary landscape: growth and increasing violence

• Conclusion: embarking on an unfinished journey

We use the term “essentials” advisedly. There is nothing essential about humanitarianism. By this we do not mean that humanitarianism is a luxury; while it might appear to be for some of those who give, it most certainly is not for those who depend on acts of compassion to survive. Instead, we mean that humanitarianism does not have an essence. Humanitarianism is a work in progress, and its meanings and practices have changed over the years.

In order to underscore the importance of treating as fluid what many analysts and practitioners consider fixed, much of this chapter interrogates the fundamental question: what is humanitarianism? Defined by what it aspires to achieve and how it tries to achieve it, such goals and means are surprisingly varied. One way to explore the fault lines and get a sense of what is at stake is by beginning with the “fundamentalist definition”—that is, the definition used by those who Hugo Slim called the “high priests”—and then start relaxing the criteria to see how far we are willing to go before we worry that the meaning of humanitarianism has been stretched beyond the point of recognition. Our goal is not to choose sides (in fact, we ourselves differ) but rather to show the reader how difficult it is to agree on where to draw the line between the acceptable and the unacceptable.

Having identified some fault lines, we speculate briefly about why some definitions have fallen in and out of favor over the decades. Our view is that while battles over the definition of humanitarianism are being waged primarily by practitioners, the context of the debate has been shaped historically by the forces of destruction, production, and salvation. These forces have varied over the decades, helping to create three identifiable periods of humanitarianism and shaping the imperatives of and constraints on humanitarian action within each era. Treating humanitarianism in this way reveals the importance of history and the growth of humanitarian action over the past six decades, and most especially since the end of the Cold War and the discovery of its own HGH—a humanitarianism growth hormone. On this note, we conclude by surveying humanitarianism’s current size, scope, and significance.

What is humanitarianism?

If there is a high priest of humanitarianism, it is the International Committee of the Red Cross. The oldest of the major humanitarian organizations, and with an official seal of approval by states, for many the ICRC’s definition of humanitarianism is the gold standard: the independent, neutral, and impartial provision of relief to victims of armed conflicts and natural disasters. Its goals are modest—to save those at immediate risk of death. In the beginning, it focused on saving the lives of soldiers and reducing their suffering. Decades later it extended assistance to civilians caught in war. Although the ICRC began as a response to human-made disasters, over time it applied its craft to help those affected by natural disasters as well. Hurricanes such as Katrina in August 2005, floods like those of the Indian Ocean tsunami of December 2004 or those in Pakistan during the 2010 monsoon season, and earthquakes such as those in China in 2008 and Haiti in 2010 have been recent showcases for relief. Although it is typical to distinguish them, we must acknowledge that there is a fine line between “natural” and “human-made” disasters. Humans are not responsible for unleashing nature’s force, but they do affect the distribution of risk. In Hurricane Katrina the poorer ninth ward was ravaged while some of New Orleans’ relatively wealthy neighborhoods escaped the same level of destruction. In January 2010 an earthquake killed nearly 200,000 people in Port-au-Prince, but an earthquake of greater magnitude in the densely populated Santiago, Chile, left only a few hundred dead.

The ICRC’s definition focuses not only what humanitarianism is supposed to do, but also how it is supposed to do it. In his famous desiderata, the ICRC’s Jean Pictet identified seven defining principles: humanity, impartiality, neutrality, independence, voluntary service, unity, and universality. The first four arguably constitute the core.¹ Humanity commands attention to all people. Impartiality requires that assistance be based on need and not discriminate on the basis of nationality, race, religion, gender, or political opinion. Neutrality demands that humanitarian organizations refrain from taking part in hostilities or from any action that either benefits or disadvantages the parties to an armed conflict. Independence necessitates that assistance not be connected to any of the belligerents or others (especially states) with a stake in the outcome of a war; accordingly, there is a general rule that agencies should either refuse or limit their reliance on government funding, especially from those with interests in the results.

The ICRC derived these principles from years of experience regarding which principles best helped it do its job. In other words, although many humanitarians treat these principles as part of their identity, they also serve important functions. Simply put, they help humanitarians reach people in need. If aid agencies are perceived by combatants as partial, allied with the opposing side, or having a vested interest in the outcome, they will have a difficult time getting access, or even worse, they may become targets. If followed and respected, a “humanitarian space” provides a sanctuary for aid workers and victims. It is important, therefore, that humanitarians be perceived as apolitical, as operating in a world of ethics. Following these principles and being perceived as apolitical are particularly important during times of armed conflict. In sum, humanitarianism is defined as the desire to provide life-saving relief while honoring the principles of humanity, neutrality, impartiality, and independence.

The ICRC and like-minded organizations not only favor this definition, but they resist those actors who depart from it and still claim to be doing humanitarianism. We want to be more agnostic and ask the reader to consider what happens if and when we operate with more relaxed criteria. Doing so is a good analytical exercise. It reveals a set of highly controversial and critical issues regarding contemporary humanitarianism; it more accurately reflects that most aid agencies do not operate according to black-and-white distinctions; and it captures the very real debates among aid agencies regarding what is humanitarianism and who gets to be a member of the club. Again, it is not for us to decide at what point actions that reduce human suffering no longer qualify as humanitarian, but we do insist that any assessment consider the options and understand what is at stake.

What are the goals of humanitarianism? The ICRC limits humanitarianism to the provision of relief to those who are in immediate need. For others, though, humanitarianism does not end with the termination of an emergency; just because lives are no longer at immediate risk does not mean that suffering has ended or that other destructive forces might not appear in the future. Many of today’s best-known aid organizations, including CARE, Save the Children, and Oxfam, that do more than provide emergency assistance began as single-minded relief agencies but soon discovered that relief was not enough and began tackling reconstruction and development.

Many organizations now aspire to transform the structural conditions that endanger populations because saving individuals today makes little sense if they are in jeopardy tomorrow—the infamous “well-fed dead.”² Their work includes development, democracy promotion, establishing the rule of law and respect for human rights, and post-conflict peace-building. Even agencies such as Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF) that focus on medical help in life-threatening emergencies can become political as they respond to the tug to provide long-term care and to alter political and economic arrangements in order to improve access to drugs for the world’s poor.

But does this mean that anything that alleviates suffering is an act of humanitarianism? Many state activities, from the provision of welfare support to job training, would then be so characterized. Multinational corporations might claim to be part of the humanitarian sector because of the proposition that international trade leads to economic growth, economic growth leads to increased incomes and tax revenues, increased incomes and tax revenues can translate into improved health care, and improved health care can reduce rates of mortality and morbidity. If humanitarianism means everything, it might very well mean nothing, stretching the concept to the point of uselessness. Not only might it be emptied of meaning, but stretching the concept of humanitarianism to cover an infinite number of activities might, in fact, make it more difficult to succor those who need it during times of need. After all, in order to get access to people, humanitarians have to be trusted. But who will trust someone with such an overarching and ambitious agenda?

According to what principles do humanitarians operate? Assuming that principles are designed to serve a purpose, can we imagine situations where adhering to them becomes positively dysfunctional? The ICRC and some aid agencies tend to abide by core principles regardless of the context. Others, however, make them contingent on their effectiveness in specific situations. Under certain conditions, they might indeed be counter-productive. How can one, for instance, be neutral (or indifferent) in the face of ethnic cleansing and genocide? How does neutrality help the victims of such atrocities? If states are the solution to humanitarian emergencies and are required to end mass killing, then what good is independence? For some, the traditional principles are sacrosanct, in essence defining what humanitarianism is. Humanitarians either commit to them unconditionally, or they are not in the club. The problem, as the veteran humanitarian analyst and practitioner Ian Smillie tells us, is that “the basic elements of so-called ‘classical humanitarianism’—neutrality, impartiality and independence—were patchy, weak or simply non-existent.”³

What is humanitarianism’s relationship to politics? Regardless of what they do, nearly all humanitarians like to present themselves as above politics. Remaining apolitical, however, is not always easy and sometimes requires a sleight-of-hand. Even those who insist that they are apolitical nevertheless acknowledge that their actions have political consequences and are often interpreted by those on the ground as deeply political. Moreover, those agencies that aspire to tackle the root causes of conflict and not just its symptoms cannot avoid politics; dealing with symptoms in an emergency is one thing, but rebuilding lives and societies necessitates a direct encounter with politics. Denying politics while trying to promote human rights, democracy, gender empowerment, and fair wages is an exercise in self-delusion. Moreover, humanitarian agencies cannot engage in these activities on their own, and sometimes they are guilty of politics by association. Not only must they broker agreements with political actors, but also they often are financed and aided by states.

Hence, a contrasting perspective holds that it is neither possible nor desirable to separate humanitarianism from politics. Even those aid agencies that explicitly engage in politics are nevertheless cautious regarding their entanglement, fearing that if they cross some imaginary line they will have more difficulty doing their job. Our experience is that humanitarian organizations labor to maintain the illusion that they are separate from politics, but keeping up appearances becomes harder and harder, to the point of being impossible, once they tackle the causes of suffering.

How important are humanitarian motives? Although many readers might find this question slightly asinine, it is a serious concern. We typically think of humanitarians as good people. The label frequently connotes altruistic individuals who give unto others without expecting anything in return, potentially sacrificing something in the process. Although most humanitarian organizations avoid the language of altruism, they stress something of a synonym, voluntarism. Sometimes “voluntary” is translated as “unpaid.” The original idea of Henry Dunant, the Swiss businessman responsible for cobbling together a proposal for establishing what would become the International Committee of the Red Cross, was for a relief corps comprised of unpaid volunteers.⁴ Yet another interpretation of voluntarism, one that probably better captures its present significance, emphasizes those who willingly accept a dangerous undertaking, who exhibit a certain spirit of selflessness, who are ready to sacrifice for others, and, perhaps most importantly, who are not motivated by economic gain.

Has anyone ever seen a Dunant-type volunteer? In our view, aid workers give to others but are not exempt from expectations of power, esteem, and social status—and are what one veteran called “selfish altruists.”⁵ They often are exceptional but remain flesh-and-blood human beings with mixed motives and feelings. Furthermore, while few join aid organizations with the expectations of getting rich, the sector has become highly professionalized over the last few decades. And the desire to attract smart people from the private sector and retain highly valued employees has caused aid organizations to worry about competitive salaries, benefit packages, and pensions. Humanitarianism might not be a career like any other, but for many it is increasingly a profession and not an avocation.⁶

The question of whether motives matter, though, goes beyond any assessment of the true motives of aid workers; instead, it concerns whether motives are or should be the measure of success. Do results also not matter? Do outcomes not count? Until the 1990s aid agencies appeared to believe that showing up was enough. But the 1990s reeled off a string of sobering and ultimately morale-busting events that shattered the largely unexamined self-confidence of humanitarian organizations. One big question was whether aid was doing more harm than good. In Somalia, agencies that were giving food to warlords in order to get access to starving populations worried that they were, quite literally, feeding the war machine. The spectacle of aid agencies feeding the perpetrators of the Rwandan genocide in refugee camps alongside their victims presented harsh lessons about intentions and unintended consequences— humanitarian actors are supposed to “do no harm” or at least “minimize the negative effects of their action.”⁷ In addition to aid agencies’ wondering about the results of their actions, donors wanted to know. In some cases they were prepared to withhold funding if they did not get answers, and in other cases were willing to reward those agencies that could answer the tough questions.

The turn to assessing impacts had two results that were largely unforeseen. One was that it was easier said than done. Trying to figure out what works and what does not—especially in emergency settings and even more especially in emergencies in poor, infrastructuredeprived, and violent settings—proved challenging, to say the least. Figuring out which welfare or job-training program works is difficult enough in the United States, and experts disagree all the time; but that is a walk in the park compared to the challenge of trying to understand whether a program designed to educate child soldiers is effective in a war-torn society with limited access and even more limited data. Another implication of trying to measure impact was that it leveled the playing field between non-profit aid agencies and for-profit firms and even militaries.⁸ If the bottom line is efficiency and results, then commercial enterprises such as Wal-Mart could count as relief organizations.⁹ What if they are more efficient than non-profit organizations and thus save more lives for the buck or euro? Do the recipients of blankets, food, and medicine really care if the money comes from the US government and then is “laundered” through a non-profit agency? Do they really care if life-saving goods are delivered by the US military or a profit-making group like Brown and Root?

Who is a card-carrying humanitarian? Asking whether results matter more than motives complicates how we disting...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title
• Copyright
• Contents
• Foreword
• Foreword by the series editor
• Acknowledgements
• Abbreviations
• Introduction
• 1 Humanitarianism: the essentials
• 2 “Birth” and maturation, 1864–1945
• 3 The traditional enterprise, 1945–89
• 4 The turbulent post–Cold War era: the “new” humanitarianism?
• 5 Turbulent humanitarianism since 1989: rhetoric meets reality
• 6 Humanitarianism’s past and possible futures: ten guiding questions
• Notes
• Select bibliography
• Index