Channel 4's (UK) Unreported World recently showed a documentary about the continued existence of the Hutu Interahamwe militia in the Great Lakes region of Africa. Despite having been ousted from most of Rwanda by the Rwandan Patriotic Front in 1994, this brutal militia is claimed to still control an area of Africa which is the size of Belgium (an unfortunate comparison considering this former colonial power's role in fostering the social and legal conditions which contributed to the small nations ethnic conflicts). This (brilliant) documentary led me to thinking about the implications of a failure to intervene in defence of civilians, especially considering that much of the world is currently more focused (through catastrophe in Iraq) on the implications of intervening.
Firstly, a brief historical recap. Colonial powers in Africa often used the, now recognised as dangerous, tactic of boosting the minority ethnic groups in order to keep the majority down. Typically, this involved offering jobs, education and other opportunities to the minority ethnic group at the expense of the majority. In Rwanda, this meant that Hutus were denied opportunities by the colonial powers, leading to significant resentment by the Hutu majority. Following independence, Tutsis were discriminated against by successive Hutu governments in retaliation and a long period of interethnic conflict began. In 1990 a Tutsi rebellion was launched from neighbouring Rwanda and continued raging until, in 1994, a plane carrying Rwandan President Juvenal Habyarimana and Burundi's Hutu President Cyprien Ntaryamira was shot down, killing both men. The identity of those who shot down the plane remains disputed, but the incident is widely recognised as the trigger for 100 days of violence launched by Hutu militias against the Tutsi population and moderate Hutus, in which between 800,000 and 1,000,000 were killed. The international community's response was to draw back existing forces in Rwanda and allow the violence to continue unchecked. The French government has even been accused of direct complicity with the genocide for reasons of national interest (see http://www.survie-france.org/ ). As a result, the orgy of horrific violence only ended when the Rwandan Patriotic Front launched a successful offensive and took power in Rwanda.
Former US President Bill Clinton has described his decision not to intervene in Rwanda as his greatest regret. As mentioned in a previous post, Lt-Gen. Romeo Dallaire of Canada, who was present in Rwanda during the genocide, was driven to repeated suicide attempts by his memories of events and his decision to obey orders and do nothing to stop the massacres. The world was united, upon seeing the final result of their inaction, to declare the (all to often repeated) mantra of 'Never Again!', before promptly allowing massacres (albeit on a smaller scale) to occur during the break-up of Yugoslavia. Meanwhile, the Hutu militia known as the Interahamwe managed to slip into the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC, then known as Zaire), hidden in the flows of hutu refugees fleeing the feared reprisals. What followed is remarkable for many awful reasons, but for the purposes of this post one will be emphasised. The arrival of the Interahamwe in DRC was a major factor in sparking a war that lasted 10 years (if one considers that it is, as claimed, now over), killed 4 million people and dragged in all of the DRC's neighbours in some capacity, earning the disturbing nickname 'Africa's World War'.
What is intriguing about this whole affair is that, while the 100 days of the Rwandan genocide have quite rightly become a permanent part of the global political memory (and inspired numerous books, films, songs, NGOs, etc.), the slower burning but, in the end, more destructive war in the DRC has remained a subject of interest for only for those individuals most interested in Africa, human rights, international relations and/or conflict. It is as if, while disgusted by the failure of anyone to help Rwandans when they were threatened by the worlds swiftest genocide, the majority of the world's people have happily drawn a line under the incident despite the fact that it NEVER REALLY ENDED! The interahamwe continue to engage in killings, rape and the indoctrination of child soldiers on a large scale, and their Tutsi enemies in the DRC continue to commit atrocities of their own under the justification of self-defence.
A question I find myself asking quite regularly when thinking about Rwanda, Bosnia, Kosovo and Darfur, is that if the same situation again arose, if there were UN troops on the ground of a distant country, with credible intelligence that a genocide of almost unfathomable speed and ferocity was about to be launched, would the world remember the old mantra 'Never Again!'? Or would we hear; 'The sovereignty of [country A] must be respected.'; 'Dialogue is the only true path to peace'; 'It would be dangerous to insert forces at this time', 'Look at Iraq, we cannot afford another quagmire', followed by; 'We could not possibly have predicted the scale of what was about to happen', 'What happened was deeply regrettable and we will do everything in our power to help [country A] recover from this tragedy.'
I am not at all convinced that if exactly the same situation arose this month, in a country of equally little strategic significance as Rwanda in 1994, then we wouldn't simply sit and watch the massacres play themselves out exactly as happened last time. It must be noted that the ultimate result of inaction in Rwanda (apart from the horrendous human tragedy) was the war in DRC, which has ultimately cost the world 4 million more lives since 1994 and $1,100 million this year alone to support the 18,000 uniformed UN personnel present in the country. With such huge costs of inaction, one would hope that ensuring the existence of a widely recognised and effective mechanism for prompting intervention when justified and preventing it when it is not would be a priority for all nations. It seems that, when observing the decision to intervene in Iraq despite the absence of an immediate humanitarian emergency (or any WMDs, for that matter) and comparing it to the decision not to intervene in Darfur despite the presence of an immediate humanitarian emergency, unfortunately, the current system seems unwilling or unable to fulfil this task.
Monday, 26 November 2007
Thursday, 15 November 2007
UAVs and UCVs: Removing the human element?
A recruitment advert for the UK army has caught my eye recently. The advert (available at www.armyjobs.mod.uk) depicts an exercise in which a young soldier pilots an unmanned aerial vehicle (UAV) on a reconnaissance mission in support of a troop of infantry soldiers. What initially caught my eye was the controller the young soldier is using to guide the UAV. Anyone familiar with modern games consoles will notice that the controller bears a striking resemblance to that used with the Microsoft X-Box.
I heard many years ago that those engaged in developing new weapons systems were considering modelling control systems on those used with popular games consoles. The idea behind the plan (as I understand it) was that young men who have spent many years playing on games consoles have motor skills and coordination relating to the particular control systems of the consoles that take years to develop. Thus, designing the control systems of new weapons systems in this way shortens the time it takes to train young soldiers in the levels of proficiency required for effective operation.
When considered philosophically, this opens up a debate as to the ethics of the level of exposure to the reality of combat (with all its blood and gore) that young soldiers experience. In sum; is it right to make modern warfare feel more like a game to young soldiers? Extrapolating from this, one reaches the question of unmanned military vehicles in general, in particular unmanned combat vehicles (UCVs), and whether reducing the human element of decision making in military operations risks removing the capability of commanders to ensure that an element of ethics is included in such decision making.
The development and deployment of UAVs is now fairly advanced. This is in part boosted by the fact that UAVs are recognised as having uses beyond the military, with the trade association UAVS (www.uavsuk.com) boasting uses from oceanographic monitoring to herd management. The (somewhat natural) progression from UAVs being pursued by the arms industry currently, however, takes unmanned vehicles from reconnaissance to deadly combat, raising a whole new spectrum of ethical questions.
The only current deployments of armed UCVs (that I know of) consist of unmanned bomb disposal vehicles fitted with an automatic weapon and currently deployed in Iraq. Such vehicles are unlikely to be the primary weapon in a given combat situation as their current primary purpose is bomb disposal (with potential for other future uses such a rescuing injured soldiers from the line of fire). Crucially, the currently deployed unmanned systems have no autonomy whatsoever, with all commands coming from a human source. Planned future deployments of different vehicles, however, suggest that the US and UK militaries intend to press ahead with robotic combat of a more autonomous and direct form.
The two most interesting (and potentially disturbing) systems currently in development are BAE System's Black Knight (for the US military) and Taranis (for the UK military) programmes. Black Knight is in the testing stage of development and is a remote controlled armoured vehicle, mounted with a machine gun, which is capable of autonomous decision making with regards movement and information gathering, but which requires a human order to fire its weapon. The Taranis project has just begun and aims to deliver research that will make possible the aim of an unmanned fighter-bomber aircraft, capable of hitting targets on the ground and defending itself in the air.
My initial concerns about these two projects, and their implications, regard (as mentioned above) the potentially negative effect unmanned combat has on the likelihood of effective ethical decision making in combat situations. Whilst the Black Knight requires a human order to fire, distancing soldiers from the arena of combat will surely reduce their ability to assess a situation effectively. I fail to see how a robotic vehicle can relay enough information to soldiers to fully replicate the decision-making environment of being fully involved in the theatre of combat. Of course, it may be that removing the operator from the immediate theatre of combat will allow for calmer and more reasoned decision-making. However, I am concerned that weapons development undertaken under the political pressure of relatively large-scale casualties in Iraq and Afghanistan will not sufficiently take into account the imperative that civilian lives must be given precedence over those of professional soldiers.
My concerns over the Taranis project differ slightly. While I recognise that there may be little difference in targeting between a mission where a manned aircraft is sent to destroy a pre-determined strategic target and one where an unmanned aircraft is sent to destroy a pre-determined strategic target, I still have two concerns. Firstly, I am reminded of an anecdote (which I must note I never managed to independently verify) that was relayed to me whilst in the city of Nablus in the West Bank. On a visit to a pile of rubble that used to be a Palestinian Authority building, I was told that the Israeli pilot who's ordinance destroyed the building was jailed by a military tribunal for refusing to drop a second bomb on the site through fear of killing members of a crowd of civilians that had gathered to survey the wreckage. Presuming this incident did happen, would an unmanned aircraft simply have bombed the target a second time in ignorance of the gathered crowd? Secondly, if the Taranis project leads to a successful deployment, how tempted will military commanders be to deploy such devices in close-quarters tactical combat situations, without predetermined targets, which are more much more dangerous for pilots and therefore present a better opportunity to protect UK military personnel?
To conclude, it is important to recognise that there is a more general concern that should be aired with regards the development of new weapons systems of any type. Due in part to issues of confidentially with regards new weapons systems, there is very little democratic over-sight in the development stages. The result is that by the time oversight is made easier multiple millions have been spent, thus making the decision to scrap a weapons system due to ethical concerns politically very difficult.
I heard many years ago that those engaged in developing new weapons systems were considering modelling control systems on those used with popular games consoles. The idea behind the plan (as I understand it) was that young men who have spent many years playing on games consoles have motor skills and coordination relating to the particular control systems of the consoles that take years to develop. Thus, designing the control systems of new weapons systems in this way shortens the time it takes to train young soldiers in the levels of proficiency required for effective operation.
When considered philosophically, this opens up a debate as to the ethics of the level of exposure to the reality of combat (with all its blood and gore) that young soldiers experience. In sum; is it right to make modern warfare feel more like a game to young soldiers? Extrapolating from this, one reaches the question of unmanned military vehicles in general, in particular unmanned combat vehicles (UCVs), and whether reducing the human element of decision making in military operations risks removing the capability of commanders to ensure that an element of ethics is included in such decision making.
The development and deployment of UAVs is now fairly advanced. This is in part boosted by the fact that UAVs are recognised as having uses beyond the military, with the trade association UAVS (www.uavsuk.com) boasting uses from oceanographic monitoring to herd management. The (somewhat natural) progression from UAVs being pursued by the arms industry currently, however, takes unmanned vehicles from reconnaissance to deadly combat, raising a whole new spectrum of ethical questions.
The only current deployments of armed UCVs (that I know of) consist of unmanned bomb disposal vehicles fitted with an automatic weapon and currently deployed in Iraq. Such vehicles are unlikely to be the primary weapon in a given combat situation as their current primary purpose is bomb disposal (with potential for other future uses such a rescuing injured soldiers from the line of fire). Crucially, the currently deployed unmanned systems have no autonomy whatsoever, with all commands coming from a human source. Planned future deployments of different vehicles, however, suggest that the US and UK militaries intend to press ahead with robotic combat of a more autonomous and direct form.
The two most interesting (and potentially disturbing) systems currently in development are BAE System's Black Knight (for the US military) and Taranis (for the UK military) programmes. Black Knight is in the testing stage of development and is a remote controlled armoured vehicle, mounted with a machine gun, which is capable of autonomous decision making with regards movement and information gathering, but which requires a human order to fire its weapon. The Taranis project has just begun and aims to deliver research that will make possible the aim of an unmanned fighter-bomber aircraft, capable of hitting targets on the ground and defending itself in the air.
My initial concerns about these two projects, and their implications, regard (as mentioned above) the potentially negative effect unmanned combat has on the likelihood of effective ethical decision making in combat situations. Whilst the Black Knight requires a human order to fire, distancing soldiers from the arena of combat will surely reduce their ability to assess a situation effectively. I fail to see how a robotic vehicle can relay enough information to soldiers to fully replicate the decision-making environment of being fully involved in the theatre of combat. Of course, it may be that removing the operator from the immediate theatre of combat will allow for calmer and more reasoned decision-making. However, I am concerned that weapons development undertaken under the political pressure of relatively large-scale casualties in Iraq and Afghanistan will not sufficiently take into account the imperative that civilian lives must be given precedence over those of professional soldiers.
My concerns over the Taranis project differ slightly. While I recognise that there may be little difference in targeting between a mission where a manned aircraft is sent to destroy a pre-determined strategic target and one where an unmanned aircraft is sent to destroy a pre-determined strategic target, I still have two concerns. Firstly, I am reminded of an anecdote (which I must note I never managed to independently verify) that was relayed to me whilst in the city of Nablus in the West Bank. On a visit to a pile of rubble that used to be a Palestinian Authority building, I was told that the Israeli pilot who's ordinance destroyed the building was jailed by a military tribunal for refusing to drop a second bomb on the site through fear of killing members of a crowd of civilians that had gathered to survey the wreckage. Presuming this incident did happen, would an unmanned aircraft simply have bombed the target a second time in ignorance of the gathered crowd? Secondly, if the Taranis project leads to a successful deployment, how tempted will military commanders be to deploy such devices in close-quarters tactical combat situations, without predetermined targets, which are more much more dangerous for pilots and therefore present a better opportunity to protect UK military personnel?
To conclude, it is important to recognise that there is a more general concern that should be aired with regards the development of new weapons systems of any type. Due in part to issues of confidentially with regards new weapons systems, there is very little democratic over-sight in the development stages. The result is that by the time oversight is made easier multiple millions have been spent, thus making the decision to scrap a weapons system due to ethical concerns politically very difficult.
Apologies for absence!
Just a quick note to say that Defending Ethics is still in publication despite there having been no new posts for two weeks! I've been a bit busy with my new role at Republic (http://www.republic.org.uk/), working on the future expansion of Defending Ethics, and taking a few days holiday in Berlin. Two new bloggers are in the pipeline (Damien Percy on Environmental and Energy Security and Shawn Bourdages on NATO's mission in Afghanistan), and I am planning to post at least three times before the end of the month. If anyone else out there is interested in contributing, please contact me using the e-mail link or by posting a comment on this blog.
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