Politics of interventionism
BY THE end of 1992, there was no dearth of Western liberals veering to the view that sovereignty, as a concept governing the interpersonal behaviour of nations, must be limited. It is obvious that the environment is one issue where nations seeking to enhance the welfare of their own citizens often do not take into account the welfare of other nations.
But what is to be done when a nation is unable to deal with the needs and welfare of its own citizenry? This is precisely the situation in Somalia: hungry and desperate people and no semblance of a government in charge. It was undoubtedly an excellent setting to justify foreign intervention. With the UN’s authorisation, USA sent in its troops to pave the way for speedy food distribution. India, too, has joined the effort to assist starving Somalis.
As a case, this may be acceptable. But where does this take us? When George Bush (the then President of USA) despatched 28,000 US troops to Somalia, he said his purpose was to “help them live”, and added, “We do not plan to dictate political outcomes. We respect your sovereignty.”
What does this mean? When is sovereignty to be respected and when not? When is interference justifiable and when not? Who will decide when to intervene and when not? Are there any mechanisms to control the hidden agendas, if any, of powerful nations? After all, the purpose of rules is to ensure the weak are protected against the powerful and to ensure consistency in the actions of nations.
Immediately, the question is raised: why Somalia, and not Bosnia? The answer given by a commentator in the International Herald
Tribune is that “Bosnia is not doable”. The
commentator goes on to argue: “Television pictures of starving Somalis summon an instinctive desire to do something. A government that is not reckless with the lives of its soldiers must enunciate some logic beyond instinct for risking those lives in a situation that does not remotely engage the national interest. Principle one of humanitarian intervention is: it must be doable. Bosnia is not doable. The mountainous terrain, the heavily armed factions, the history of prolonged guerilla war—all promise not just large losses but military failure. The US will not stand by if another people is dying and there is a way to save it. This may not be the loftiest principle of humanitarian intervention, but it is better than the rest.”
What then of a case where intervention is necessary, but the economic interests of powerful nations are involved?
Environment throws up numerous such examples. The carbon dioxide, for example, emitted by one country is likely to affect the sea coast or the climate of another. Who should reduce this carbon dioxide and by how much? Will the reduction be done in a way that gives property rights to all people in the atmosphere, and thus generate market forces that will provide disincentives to the polluters and incentives to the abstemious? Will there be a system of democratic checks and balances so that Bangladesh can block the entry of American cars because their emissions could drown half its land?
The Western nations have steered clear of such issues, even though markets, property rights and democracy are of what they are most proud. They have taken positions that essentially get them off the hook for their past production and consumption patterns and now seek to ram an inequitable system for future global environmental management down the throats of less powerful nations.
Clearly, there is a need for the international community to intervene— collectively and humanely—in the interests of the weak and the poor and for the survival of all of us. But if the old order of sovereign nations is to give over to a new order of a more sovereign “global community”, then the new rules of the behaviour of nations must not only be crystal clear, but they should also protect the rights of less powerful nations and be enforceable against the powerful ones. Till then, the arguments for sovereignty must continue to rule.