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PACIFYING THE PEACEKEEPERS:

HOW STATE INVOLVEMENT IN U.N. PEACEKEEPING REDUCES

MILITARY THREATS TO DEMOCRACY

TIMOTHY JAMES ALEXANDER PASSMORE

B.A., Lee University, 2006

M.Litt., University of St. Andrews, 2007

M.A., University of Colorado Boulder, 2015

A thesis submitted to the Faculty of the Graduate School of the

University of Colorado in partial fulfillment

of the requirement for the degree of

Doctor of Philosophy

Department of Political Science

2019

This thesis entitled:

Pacifying the Peacekeepers: How State Involvement in U.N. Peacekeeping Reduces Military Threats to Democracy

written by Timothy James Alexander Passmore

has been approved for the Department of Political Science

______Associate Professor Megan Shannon (Chair)

______Professor Jaroslav Tir

______Associate Professor Carew Boulding

______Professor David H. Bearce

______Assistant Professor Benjamin Teitelbaum (Department of Musicology)

Date______

The final copy of this thesis has been examined by the signatories, and we find that both the content and the form meet acceptable presentation standards of scholarly work in the above mentioned discipline.

ii ABSTRACT

Passmore, Timothy James Alexander (Ph.D., Political Science). Pacifying the Peacekeepers: How State Involvement in U.N. Peacekeeping Reduces Military Threats to Democracy. Dissertation directed by Associate Professor Megan Shannon.

What explains why countries undergoing transitions to democracy are major contributors of personnel to United Nations peacekeeping operations? In recent decades, the provision of such personnel has been adopted largely by weak or nascent democracies. In the same period, the world has witnessed a decline in military coup activity. I argue that new democracies use peacekeeping to reduce the threat posed by the military during the years of transition and thereby increase the likelihood of democratic consolidation. In the short term such governments can credibly commit to maintaining the military since peacekeeping offers a variety of private benefits, while its revenues can be used to bolster the defense budget. In the long term peacekeeping can contribute to the reorientation of the military into a democratic institution through the socialization of troops to democratic norms, as well as the professionalization of the military as a subordinate institution. I therefore argue that governments in new democracies will pursue not only large, but also strategic contributions to peacekeeping missions in order to maximize these benefits.

I test these arguments using cross-national time series analysis of personnel contributions to peacekeeping operations from 1990 to 2011, as well as three illustrative cases: Argentina, Bangladesh, and Ghana. The analyses indicate that new democracies make larger contributions than other countries, and this effect is enhanced both where the military was more powerful at the time of transition and where greater economic revenues can be accrued to the military. Moreover, new democracies tend to send their troops to missions with more peacekeepers from strong democracies. The tasks involved in the mission influence deployments also, where more peacekeepers are sent to narrow, defense-focused missions if

iii the country has a greater military legacy, and to civil-oriented multidimensional missions when facing greater domestic economic pressure. These findings indicate that new democracies make a number of strategic decisions that reflect varied motivations to deploy military personnel to peacekeeping missions in pursuit of democratic consolidation.

For Kim.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

This endeavor has only been possible with the support of many people. First and foremost, I simply would not have arrived at this point without my wife and best friend,

Kimberly. Her patience, grace, and unconditional love over the last six years are an accomplishment far greater than this project, and words are insufficient to express my gratitude and respect for her.

To my parents, Stephen and Margaret, without whose sacrifice and investment my life would be vastly different. They have given so much to so many, and deserve the richest of rewards. Also to Sarah and Oliver for inspiring me with their integrity and dedication to all they do.

At CU Boulder, my utmost thanks go to my advisor, Meg Shannon, for investing in and empowering me from the beginning. It’s been an honor to write with, research for, and learn from Meg over the last few years. I am also hugely grateful to Jaroslav Tir for all the invaluable advice, research opportunities, and trips to Belgian pubs, and to Carew Boulding, always ready with coffee and encouragement. To the remaining members of my committee, I am sincerely grateful to David Bearce and Benjamin Teitelbaum for taking the time to read this thing.

Among the many wonderful graduate students at CU, I wish to thank Andrew Hart and Erin Heubert for their mentorship, and to my cohort for sharing in the laughter and tears. The staff and faculty at CU Boulder have also been a tremendous source of help and support. I am especially grateful to Carol Bender, Jennifer Fitzgerald, Haruko Greeson, and

Jana Jones.

Many incredible friends have supported me through this period in ways I couldn’t have hoped for. My thanks go in particular to the Boulder Squad and the Gunbarrel Group.

vi To Ruth and Roger: I am eternally grateful to you for giving me the farm as a writing haven for two (and hopefully no more) thesis projects. I also owe a debt to two past professors: to

Lee Cheek, whose encouragement would lead to me still being in school seventeen years later, and to Steve Swindle, whose investment as an instructor, mentor, and later a colleague was integral to my getting to this moment.

For comments that helped shape this project I am indebted in particular to Kyle

Beardsley, Brandon Boylan, Gaspare Genna, and the faculty in the Department of

International Studies and Political Science at the Virginia Military Institute. I am also grateful for support and encouragement from Lisa Hultman and Jake Kathman. Much gratitude is also due to several sources of funding for this project, including the Horowitz

Foundation, The Beverly Sears Fund, the Center to Advance Research in the Social Sciences, the University of Colorado Graduate School, and the Department of Political Science.

vii

CONTENTS

CHAPTER 1 INTRODUCTION ...... 1 1.1 The New Peacekeepers ...... 1 1.2 The Argument in Brief ...... 3 1.3 Contribution of this Research ...... 7 1.4 A Note on Scope ...... 9 1.5 Outline of the Dissertation ...... 10

CHAPTER 2 DEMOCRATIZATION AND PERSONNEL CONTRIBUTIONS TO UN PEACEKEEPING MISSIONS ...... 13 2.1 Introduction ...... 13 2.2 Who Keeps the Peace? ...... 16 2.3 Regime Type and UNPKO Participation ...... 19 2.4 The Democratization-Peacekeeping Nexus ...... 24 2.4.1 Entry Barriers ...... 25 2.4.2 Credible Signal ...... 26 2.4.3 Information Provision ...... 30 2.4.4 Socialization ...... 31

2.5 Hypotheses ...... 34 2.6 Research Design ...... 35 2.6.1 Models and Dependent Variables ...... 35 2.6.2 Democratization ...... 37 2.6.3 Control Variables ...... 38

2.7 Results and Discussion ...... 41 2.8 Robustness Tests ...... 49 2.9 Conclusion ...... 52

CHAPTER 3 PLACATING THE PEACEKEEPERS: SHORT-TERM BENEFITS OF CONTRIBUTING MILITARY PERSONNEL TO UN PEACEKEEPING MISSIONS ...... 54 3.1 Introduction ...... 54 3.2 The Civil-Military Nexus ...... 58

viii 3.3 The Military and Democratization ...... 62 3.4 Peacekeeping and the Military ...... 65 3.5 Placating the Military ...... 68 3.5.1 Swords into Ploughshares ...... 68 3.5.2 Taking a Back Seat ...... 77 3.5.3 Pugno, Ergo Sum ...... 78

3.6 Statistical Analyses ...... 80 3.6.1 Military Legacy and Peacekeeping Contributions ...... 81 3.6.2 Financial Incentives: UN vs. Non-UN Missions ...... 90 3.6.3 Military Budget Supplementation ...... 95

3.7 Conclusion ...... 114

CHAPTER 4 SOCIALIZING THE PEACEKEEPERS: THE ADOPTION OF DEMOCRATIC NORMS THROUGH PEACEKEEPING SERVICE ...... 116 4.1 Introduction ...... 116 4.2 The Need for Long-Term Military Transformation ...... 117 4.3 Peacekeeping’s Effect on the Military ...... 123 4.3.1 Strategic Deployment ...... 126

4.4 Two Mechanisms of Socialization ...... 128 4.4.1 Socialization to UN Norms ...... 128 4.4.2 Democracies as Norm Diffusers ...... 134

4.4 Addressing Challenges to the Argument ...... 141 4.5 Hypotheses ...... 146 4.6 Empirical Analyses ...... 147 4.6.1 Independent Variables ...... 147 4.6.2 Control Variables ...... 149 4.6.3 Results and Discussion ...... 150

4.7 Conclusion ...... 156

CHAPTER 5 PROFESSIONALIZING THE PEACEKEEPERS: REORIENTING CIVIL- MILITARY RELATIONS TOWARDS STABLE DEMOCRACY ...... 158 5.1 Introduction ...... 158 5.2 Military Professionalization ...... 160 5.3 Peacekeeping and Professionalization ...... 167

ix 5.4 Which Form of Professionalization do States Desire? ...... 172 5.5 Empirical Analysis ...... 177 5.5.1 Mission Type ...... 177 5.5.2 Military Legacy ...... 180 5.5.3 Domestic Pressure ...... 181 5.5.4 Control Variables ...... 182 5.5.5 Results and Discussion ...... 182

5.6 Conclusion ...... 192

CHAPTER 6 EVIDENCE FROM ARGENTINA, BANGLADESH, AND GHANA ...... 193 6.1 Introduction ...... 193 6.1.1 Case selection ...... 194

6.2 Argentina: From Military Dictatorship to Civilian Subordination ...... 195 6.2.1 The Military Years ...... 196 6.2.2 Alfonsín and Demilitarization ...... 197 6.2.3 Menem and Redirection ...... 199 6.2.4 Trends in Contributions ...... 200 6.2.5 Short-Term Appeasement ...... 202 6.2.6 Long-Term Transformation ...... 203 6.2.7 Other Explanations ...... 208

6.3 Bangladesh: Blurred Divisions and Tenuous Civilian Control ...... 211 6.3.1 From Military Rule to the UN’s Primary Flag-Bearer ...... 212 6.3.2 Military Rule in the Post-Independence Years ...... 216 6.3.3 Democratization and Global Engagement ...... 219 6.3.4 The State of Civil-Military Relations ...... 228 6.3.5 2007 and Beyond ...... 231

6.4 Ghana: From Regular Coups to Model Peacekeepers ...... 234 6.4.1 A Turbulent Political History ...... 235 6.4.2 Superficial and Genuine Democracy ...... 238 6.4.3 Ghana’s Involvement in Peacekeeping ...... 240 6.4.4 Individual Benefits: Economic Wellbeing and Government Guarantees ...... 242 6.4.5 Institutional Benefits: Resources and Professionalization ...... 245 6.4.6 Ghana’s Peacekeepers Today and Tomorrow ...... 249

x 6.5 Conclusion ...... 250

CHAPTER 7 CONCLUDING REMARKS ...... 252 7.1 In Summary ...... 252 7.2 Findings and Contribution ...... 253 7.3 Alternative Explanations ...... 256 7.3.1 International Signaling ...... 256 7.3.2 Autocratic Backsliding ...... 258

7.4 Policy Implications ...... 259 7.5 Looking Ahead ...... 261

BIBLIOGRAPHY ...... 264

APPENDIX ...... 280 A1. Measuring Democratization ...... 280 A2. Reverse Causality ...... 284 A3. Additional Data ...... 286

xi TABLES

2.1 Military contributions to UN peacekeeping missions, 2000-2010 ...... 19

2.2 Effect of democratization on UN peacekeeping personnel contributions ...... 42

2.3 Effect of democratization on UN peacekeeping personnel contributions compared to other regime types ...... 46

2.4 Effect of time since democratization on UN peacekeeping personnel Contributions ...... 48

2.5 Effect of democratization on contributions of military personnel and Police ...... 52

3.1 Effect of GDP per capita and democratization on UN peacekeeping military contributions using a zero-inflated negative binomial regression ...... 74

3.2 Effect of military legacy on UN peacekeeping contribution size in new democracies using a zero-inflated negative binomial regression ...... 85

3.3 Effect of military legacy on UNPKO contributions over time after democratization using a ZINB ...... 88

3.4 Military personnel contributions to non-UN peacekeeping operations, 1990-2012 ...... 93

3.5 Effect of democratization on contributions to UN and non-UN peacekeeping operations ...... 95

3.6 Explanation of model components within multiple-group ITSA analysis ...... 101

3.7 Sample of new democracies for interrupted time-series analysis ...... 102

3.8 Interrupted time-series analysis of military expenditure pre- and post- democratization (large UNPKO contributors) ...... 104

3.9 Interrupted time-series analysis of military expenditure pre- and post- democratization (small UNPKO contributors) ...... 105

3.10 Single ITSA of military expenditure pre- and post-trends ...... 111

4.1 First-time contributors of personnel to UN peacekeeping missions after 1989 ...... 136

4.2 Average mission troop contribution of strong established democracies, 1992-2011 ...... 149

xii 4.3 Effect of mission democratic composition on personnel contributions ...... 151

4.4 Effect of strong mission democratic composition on personnel Contributions ...... 152

5.1 Missions by type, 1992-2011 ...... 179

5.2 Distribution of observations by mission type ...... 180

5.3 Effect of mission type on UN peacekeeping military contributions Using a ZINB regression ...... 183

5.4 Effect of military legacy on troop contributions in new democracies using a ZINB regression ...... 186

5.5 Effect of military legacy on troop contributions in new democracies using a ZINB regression ...... 188

6.1 Ghana’s political regimes, 1960-2016 ...... 237

6.2 Major mission contributions of Ghana and democratic presence in the mission, 1992-2011 ...... 247

xiii

FIGURES

1.1 Ghana’s average monthly military deployment to UNPKOs, 1992-2011 ...... 2

1.2 Overview of argument and relevant chapters ...... 5

2.1 Global number of democracies by year ...... 25

2.2 Effect of democratization on peacekeeping contributions ...... 43

2.3 Effect of time since democratization on personnel contributions ...... 49

3.1 Global incidence of coups, 1950-2016 ...... 59

3.2 Argentina’s military expenditure, 1975-2000 ...... 70

3.3 Average proportion of standing armed forces deployed as peacekeepers for the top ten contributors from 1992-2011 ...... 76

3.4 Military expenditure and UN troop contributions in Sri Lanka, 1980-2011 ...... 97

3.5 Military expenditure for Kenya versus control countries, 1985-2011 ...... 107

3.6 Average military expenditure for all countries (except P5), 1986-2011 ...... 109

3.7 Average military expenditure as a proportion of GDP for all countries (except P5), 1986-2011 ...... 110

4.1 Military expenditure in Fiji, 1970-2012 ...... 118

4.2 Geographic distribution of peacekeepers in MONUSCO, January 2011 ...... 140

4.3 Effect of changes in the strong democratic composition of military peacekeepers on new democracy military contribution size ...... 155

5.1 Marginal effect of changes in income inequality on contributions to objective professionalization missions ...... 190

6.1 Argentina’s military deployment to all missions, 1992-2011 ...... 201

6.2 Deployment of Argentinian military personnel by mission type, 1992-2011 ...... 207

6.3 Bangladesh’s military deployment to all missions, 1992-2011 ...... 213

6.4 Average monthly deployment of ten largest contributors, 1992-2011 ...... 214

6.5 Polity scores and regime transitions in Ghana, 1960-2016 ...... 236

CHAPTER 1

INTRODUCTION

“There is a common assumption, an unreflecting belief, that it is somehow ‘natural’ for the armed forces to obey the civilian power…but no reason is adduced for showing that civilian control of the armed forces is, in fact, ‘natural’. Is it? Instead of asking why the military engage in politics, we ought surely to ask why they ever do otherwise. For at first sight the political advantages of the military vis-à-vis other and civilian groupings are overwhelming. The military possess vastly superior organization. And they possess arms.”

S.E. Finer, The Man on Horseback

1.1 The New Peacekeepers

In 2016, the small West African country of Ghana had the 49th largest population in the world and a military that ranked 120th in personnel numbers (World Bank 2019). Despite this, it also stood as the 9th largest contributor of personnel to United Nations peacekeeping operations, just ahead of China and far outpacing the much larger and more advanced militaries of developed western countries. In December 2016, Ghana had 2,450 troops deployed to ten peacekeeping missions worldwide, accounting for almost 16 percent of its standing armed forces (UN Department of Peacekeeping Operations). Ghana’s large contributions to peacekeeping have been consistent since its transition to democracy at the end of 2000 (see Figure 1.1). In the subsequent decade, an average of 23 percent of its military was deployed to UN peacekeeping operations (UNPKOs) at any given time, with many more

1 at home preparing for future rotations. To place this in perspective, Uruguay made the second largest deployment as a proportion of its military, which comprised only around 6 percent.

Figure 1.1 Ghana’s average monthly military deployment to UNPKOs, 1992-2011.

What explains why a country like Ghana would make such a major investment in international peacekeeping efforts, and particularly in the years immediately after democratization? Notably, Ghana is far from alone in this behavior. In 2016, the eight countries making larger contributions were Ethiopia, India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Rwanda,

Nepal, Senegal, and Burkina Faso. This is a vast shift from the dominant participation of countries such as Canada, Austria, Finland, France, and the United Kingdom in decades past. Of particular note is the prominence in contributions of countries from the developing world that have had relatively recent experiences of democratization, or have otherwise struggled to consolidate democratic institutions.

2 In this study I argue that, while the decision to participate in peacekeeping is complex and has varied causes across all countries, a major rationale for some of the most committed contributors has been the potential benefits for the country’s civil-military relations, and by extension, its attempt to consolidate democracy amid otherwise precarious conditions. In making this argument, I argue that new democracies can reap varied benefits for democratic consolidation that are largely absent as incentives for other types of political system. Such benefits include both the short-term ability to placate and divert a disgruntled military fearing a loss of power and influence during the transition, and the longer-term socializing and professionalizing effects of peacekeeping involvement that can reorient the military to a more democratic outlook. While making important contributions to the understanding of reducing the domestic threat of militaries as well as explanations for peacekeeping participation, this project makes the underlying claim that involvement in international organizations can play an important role in supporting successful democratization.

In the remainder of this chapter, I give a brief overview of my central argument along with some preliminary concessions on the limitations of this approach. This is followed by a consideration of the contribution the study makes to our current understanding of the various themes involved. After that, I outline the chapter-by-chapter structure of the dissertation.

1.2 The Argument in Brief

The components and progression of my argument are illustrated in Figure 1.2, along with the contribution of each subsequent chapter. In the early years of democracy, states face a number of pressures that are all too often insurmountable. Young democracies are judged heavily based on their results, and failure to deliver on the perceived promises of liberal democracy is a common death knell for such systems (Przeworski et al. 2000). Yet, the

3 government’s priorities are not narrowly focused on performance. In most cases, institutional capacity and legitimacy must be inaugurated lest the weak institutions of the fledgling system fall victim to predators who would have an autocratic system that perpetuates their own claims to power and resources. In democratic transitions during the last century, the most prominent of these actors has been the military. First, democratization creates the incentive for the military to challenge the existing order, since it risks becoming a more constrained entity under democracy, losing power, influence, and resources. In many instances, the new government has even sought to punish the military for past ills. Second, democratization often presents the military with the opportunity to intervene, where its strength of organization and political efficacy through past involvement give it the perception that it can run a better system, particularly where democracy does not deliver quick benefits to the people. This problem has been borne out in recent decades. Belkin and Schofer (2003,

596) report that 432 coups occurred between 1945 and 2000, more than half of which were successful. Specific to democracies, Cheibub (2007, 140) finds that democracies are 70 percent more likely to fail when following a military regime than a civilian one. Consequently, around one third of new democracies fail within the first five years (Power and Gasiorowski 1997).

Newly democratic governments must therefore prioritize delivering economic growth and political stability, which commonly requires redirecting funds away from “guns” and towards

“butter”, while simultaneously mitigating the threat posed by the military if it hopes to consolidate democracy.

I argue that many new democracies have turned to UN peacekeeping as a means to divert the military’s focus away from domestic politics, provide it with resources and various benefits that will satisfy it, and ultimately reorient its outlook to being supportive of democratic government (and civilian authority specifically). In the last 25 years, the burden of providing peacekeepers for operations has been taken on predominantly by developing

4 countries, most of which have yet to fully consolidate (or in some cases even embrace)

democracy. I argue that this trend has in large part been driven by a desire among fledgling

democracies to subordinate the military in a way that does not elicit a negative response.

Figure 1.2: Overview of argument and relevant chapters.

Type of Military legacy mission/role for Economic pressures peacekeepers

Ch5

Ch3 Civil-military Personnel relations/ Democratization contributions democratic Ch2 to UNPKOs consolidation

Ch4

Democratic composition of mission

Case studies Ch6

In the short term, peacekeeping deployment placates disgruntled soldiers and

generals alike, who fear becoming redundant in a democratic system and risk losing their

livelihood, professional fulfillment, and political influence. Revenues earned from UN

peacekeeping are a strong attraction for such personnel, along with the opportunity to serve

overseas, receive high-quality training, and interact with other militaries. Due to the ongoing

nature and low entry barriers of UN peacekeeping, this acts as a credible signal that the

military is not a defunct institution in the new order, but rather can play an important role

in the government’s foreign policy. Meanwhile, the military’s attention is diverted from

5 domestic politics, allowing the civilian government the time and autonomy it requires to strengthen institutions.

However, for democracy to stand its best chance of being consolidated, the government must consider the longer-term role and orientation of the military, commonly described as a country’s civil-military relations. A military with vast experience serving in peacekeeping missions may placate it temporarily, but if its raison d’être is not shifted away from political influence and towards subordination, it risks using its newly-learned skills and heightened sense of efficacy to overthrow the existing system. Fortunately, UN peacekeeping deployment offers a number of socializing and professionalizing benefits that can contribute to redirecting the military’s outlook for the long term. Most prominently, internalizing the UN’s value system and serving alongside soldiers from established democracies should engender a process of socialization towards democratic ideals and behaviors. Additionally, learning particular skills or undertaking tasks that reinforce the notion of a military narrowly focused and politically disengaged can result in a professionalization of the armed forces that further supports democratic governance.

I therefore argue that involvement of the military in peacekeeping is not a guaranteed path to stable civil-military relations. Rather, it relies on a series of important decisions by the sending government that will determine how many peacekeepers are deployed, to where they will be sent, and what roles they will undertake. Moreover, the likelihood of this activity successfully supporting democratic consolidation is contingent on various choices in domestic governance, particularly how the military is incorporated into governance and decision- making. Different configurations of these factors may therefore lead down divergent paths where democracy faces more or fewer challenges.

While much could be learned about the outcomes of the mechanisms discussed here, such as the impact on the military and ultimately the consolidation of democracy in sending

6 countries, I choose instead to focus primarily on the first part of the question: addressing why and how governments in newly democratic countries use peacekeeping as a strategic means to pursue political stability. I restrict assessment of the effects to the case studies in Chapter

6. With this knowledge, later and more robust studies of the effects of peacekeeping for democratization will be of great value. In the following chapters, I develop theory-driven arguments and predictions for each of the mechanisms discussed above. I also conduct extensive empirical investigation, using a mixed-methods approach that combines large-n statistical analysis of peacekeeping contribution patterns with case studies that illuminate the finer details of the proposed phenomena.

1.3 Contribution of this Research

This project broadens the current understanding of three research agendas. First, it advances the study of democratization and, in particular, the role of international factors in that process. A small number of studies considers how participation in international organizations (IOs) can support the process of democratization (e.g. Pevehouse 2002, 2005;

Poast and Urpelainen 2015). However, these studies largely focus on the mechanisms of capacity-building by IOs and the strength of costly signals from membership in IOs. The effect of IO membership and participation on civil-military relations as a precursor to democratic consolidation is therefore undertheorized, despite Poast and Urpelainen’s (2015) finding that the benefits of IO membership for democratic consolidation are maximized where democracy follows military rule. I incorporate international factors into a largely

Comparative Politics conception of democratization, which involves the complex interaction of state, military, and societal actors. I therefore present a novel argument that the instability undergirding these relationships can be strengthened by IO participation through a combination of credible signal formation, information provision, and socialization.

7 The second contribution is to the study of civil-military relations, and particularly as it relates to democratization. Although it is well-understood that military regimes pose a major threat to democracy (Aguero 1995; Cheibub 2007), more developed theoretical attention is needed to understand the dynamics of the relationship between military, past autocratic regimes, and new democratic governments. This study considers the complex interrelationship of these various actors and addresses multiple factors, both long and short term, that affect the nature of these relationships and the stability of democracy more generally. Specifically, I incorporate theories of military economics, professionalization, and socialization to adopt a multifaceted approach to the study of civil-military relations and democratization.

This dissertation also advances the current knowledge of peacekeeping in regard to both determinants of personnel acquisition for missions and processes within peacekeeping that affect those involved. With the prominence of UN peacekeeping as a tool for procuring peace in recent decades, along with the increasing availability of granular data on such activities, there has been great interest in understand the causes and effects of peacekeeping.

This study contributes to a varied but unresolved discussion on the determinants of personnel contributions. In particular, little attention has been given to the role of civil-military relations in making decisions to deploy, much less considering how missions affect military personnel and the armed forces at an institutional level upon returning home. Most current knowledge is restricted to case studies, while major gaps persist in cross-national studies.1

Moreover, I attempt to clarify the relationship between regime type and involvement in peacekeeping activities, which has up to now led to divergent conclusions. With that, I offer the first large-n test of the role played by democratization in peacekeeping contributions and

1 Kathman and Melin (2017) and Lundgren (2018) are exceptions.

8 add to a sparse understanding of how states use peacekeeping as a strategic means to address threats posed by the military.

Lastly, I give attention to variation at the mission level as an important determinant of outcomes. While some studies have considered mission heterogeneity in terms of size

(Hultman et al. 2013, 2014), national composition (Bove and Ruggeri 2015), and the geographic distribution of peacekeepers (Ruggeri et al. 2016), little attention has been given to the form and function of missions, such as the scope of their mandated tasks and the activities in which peacekeepers will engage. This project therefore helps to further demystify the complex environment of peacekeeping and how various factors can affect both the inputs and outcomes of those operations.

In addition to substantive contributions, I offer some data and methodology advances in this project. In Chapter 3, I conduct the first interrupted time-series analysis known to this author that uses peacekeeping data, which offers methodological rigor to the study through a quasi-experimental approach. In Chapter 4 I offer new data on the democratic composition of the peacekeeping mission network, which is an aspect of mission heterogeneity yet to be considered in peacekeeping research. Lastly in Chapter 5, I extend Doyle and

Sambanis’ (2006) data on mission types from 2002 to 2011, allowing for future insights into the effect of different mission functions.

1.4 A Note on Scope

In this study, I choose to focus specifically on the civil-military dynamic of peacekeeping contributions in democratizing states. The military has repeatedly been identified in the democratization literature as one of the most prominent threats to democratic consolidation (Cheibub 2007; Svolik 2008). Moreover, the numerous mechanisms through which peacekeeping might alter civil-military relations in such countries warrants

9 detailed analysis. This is not to suggest, however, that new democracies cannot benefit in other ways from peacekeeping involvement. A central driving factor that has been largely ignored in the literature is the desire of new democracies to earn international plaudits for its service, resulting not only in greater economic and political support from other countries and international bodies, but also increasing domestic confidence by signaling its commitment to democratic reform. This is a worthy future research agenda that will contribute to a more complete understanding of peacekeeping trends in recent decades.

1.5 Outline of the Dissertation

This project consists of six subsequent chapters. Prior to delving into the specifics of my argument, I use Chapter 2 to consider the relationship between democratization (and regime type more broadly) and participation in UNPKOs. A vast literature has sought to explain why countries send their uniformed personnel to serve in such missions, but considerations of domestic politics, and civil-military relations in particular, have been lacking in this conversation. Moreover, a number of studies have (in my view) mischaracterized the relationship between regime type and peacekeeping involvement. I therefore challenge these existing arguments and provide empirical evidence of a link between countries in the early years of democracy and their proclivity to make large contributions to peacekeeping missions.

In Chapter 3, I identify the critical problems faced by new democracies vis-à-vis the military, considering the prominence of coup activity in recent decades and subsequent attempts of governments to subdue such threats. I conduct an analysis that indicates new democracies make larger contributions to UNPKOs where there is a greater legacy of the military from pre-democracy times. I also use this chapter to address the short-term benefits of peacekeeping involvement for new democracies: namely that militaries fearful of reform,

10 lost resources, or punishment under the new regime can be placated by ongoing activity and generous remuneration for their services by the UN. The subsequent statistical analysis indicates that new democracies seek out peacekeeping missions with greater financial benefits, and that such revenues avoid the occurrence of major disruptions to the military’s budget.

Chapters 4 and 5 turn to the long-term benefits of peacekeeping involvement. I argue that short-term planning does not resolve the longer-term threat of the military, and may even create a stronger and better-organized military that can threaten domestic political stability. In Chapter 4, I consider the ability of peacekeeping to socialize soldiers to democratic norms through the UN’s value system and by being exposed to militaries with a strong democratic tradition. The results of testing in this chapter find that newly democratic governments seek out missions for their soldiers where they will interact with a greater number of peacekeepers from the world’s strongest democracies. In Chapter 5, I address the professionalization of the military as a process distinct from socialization, whereby the particular nature of peacekeeping missions can potentially reinforce institutional orientations that might support or threaten a democratic model of civil-military relations. I argue that, depending on the degree to which the government wants to either disengage the military from politics or instead incorporate it in a subordinate manner, newly democratic governments will contribute in greater number to missions based on the tasks they require of peacekeepers. I find that larger contributions are made to missions involving narrow, traditional military roles where there is a stronger military legacy for that country. However, where the government faces increased domestic pressure, it tends to send more troops to missions involving broader civilian tasks for peacekeepers.

In Chapter 6, I provide in-depth qualitative accounts of the various phenomena discussed in three cases: Argentina, Bangladesh, and Ghana. Argentina transitioned to

11 democracy from a long and oppressive history of military power. After the first democratic regime struggled to control the military, the subsequent administration found peacekeeping to be a very effective means of bring the military into the democratic order and creating for it a strictly external role that has kept it from intervening in the years since. Ghana provides a similar story, having bounced between military regimes and one-party authoritarian governments throughout its post-independence history. Its foray into UN peacekeeping, which is tied to other incentives such as regional influence and conflict spillover prevention, has transformed the military into a respected and subordinate entity. The third case,

Bangladesh, offers a more reserved account of the benefits of peacekeeping involvement for civil-military relations. Consistently one of the top contributors to UNPKOs, Bangladesh has been able to stave off a recurrence of the repeated military coups that plagued the decades after independence. However, the politicization of the military by the two main political parties rather than professionalizing it effectively has protected the military’s central role in political decision-making and has ultimately retarded democratic consolidation.

After this, I offer concluding remarks in Chapter 7. Additional discussion of some methodological decisions are attached in an Appendix.

CHAPTER 2

DEMOCRATIZATION AND PERSONNEL CONTRIBUTIONS TO UN PEACEKEEPING MISSIONS

2.1 Introduction

In recent years, a tremendous effort has gone into better understanding the complex phenomenon of international peacekeeping. Of central interest has been the ability of the

United Nations in ending violence, overseeing conflict resolution agreements, and supporting sustainable peace in war-ravaged countries. Such interest is unsurprising. UN peacekeeping has received attention for its successes in these and other ventures, and much more public salience due to its flaws. The overwhelming failure to stabilize conflicts in

Rwanda and the Balkans, as well as repeated accounts of peacekeeper misconduct in the field has raised questions of the utility of the venture. In 2019, as the U.S. government leads a charge in challenging the efficacy of international institutions, there is now more than ever a need to understand the benefits that can be reaped from efforts like UN peacekeeping, in order to justify either its continuation or ultimate demise.

These efforts have included a plethora of approaches. Of central interest has been understanding the effect of peacekeeping: does it deliver what it promises? Is it ultimately ineffective, or worse, detrimental to peace? How has variation in the structure and mandate of missions affected desired outcomes? Other studies have asked questions of the inputs of

UN peacekeeping: who contributes to these efforts and why? How does the investment of the 13

international community affect the ability of UN peacekeeping to do what it intends? Others still, although to a sparser degree, consider how involvement in peacekeeping affects those who provide it: what is the impact for the sending country’s economy? Public opinion? Its soldiers serving at the behest of the UN?

This chapter examines the broad attempts to better understand UN peacekeeping, and focuses particularly on the relationship between personnel contributing countries and peacekeeping involvement. It is within the context of these arguments that I investigate the role of domestic politics on participation in peacekeeping, and specifically the incentives that a new democracy has for being involved in such operations. In recent decades, the provision of personnel for United Nations peacekeeping operations has shifted largely from wealthy, established democracies to developing states with weakly democratic political institutions.

While various studies have attempted to explain this pattern, there remains a lack of clear consensus on what has driven the change. Few studies have considered the role of domestic politics as an incentive for participation by these states. I argue that the process of democratization creates strong incentives for states to support peacekeeping missions with their own uniformed personnel, and that such states will subsequently make larger contributions than both established democracies and non-democracies. Democratizing states2 face unique challenges relating to domestic demand for public goods provision, as well as pressures from the military. Participation in peacekeeping creates a means to satisfy both of these challenges. I primarily argue that participation addresses the domestic threat of the military both by placating it in the short-term with payments, continued activity, and a commitment not to be subject to major reform, while also socializing and professionalizing

2 Throughout this piece, I use the terms ‘new democracies’, ‘democratizing states’ and ‘transitional democracies’ interchangeably, referring to a state that has recently become a democracy but is not considered a ‘consolidated democracy’ yet. Measurement of these terms is addressed later in the chapter. 14

its members in the long-term to pro-democracy norms and behaviors. In achieving these outcomes, domestic opposition to continued high spending on the military can be relieved, while much-needed funds for social spending can be diverted to doing so. By achieving both of these outcomes – democratizing the military and appeasing society – a newly democratic state can decrease the likelihood of opposition and regime instability, and thereby increase the probability of democratic consolidation.

In making this argument, I draw on a broad literature that considers the relationship between international organizations (IOs) and democratization (Mansfield and Pevehouse

2006; Moravcsik 2000; Pevehouse 2002; Poast and Urpelainen 2013; Poast and Urpelainen

2015; Poast and Urpelainen 2018), supporting the notion that international factors often play a crucial role in domestic politics. I combine three established causal mechanisms underlying the involvement of democratizing states in IOs – credible signaling, information provision, and socialization – to argue that the desire of democratizing states to use peacekeeping as a means to democratic consolidation relies on a multicausal pathway.

I test my argument empirically by examining the effect of being a new democracy on personnel contributions to all UN peacekeeping operations between 1990 and 2011. While previous studies have considered the effect of democracy on peacekeeping contributions (e.g.

Andersson 2002; Lebovic 2004; Perkins and Neumeyer 2008), they focus only on a state’s regime type rather than considering states in transition. I therefore offer a novel insight into this relationship, considering the subcategory of democracies that only recently made the transition. This distinction is supported by an array of literature that identifies important difference between weak and strong, or transitional and consolidated democracies (e.g.

Collier and Adcock 1999; Elkins 2000). The results show support for my arguments: newly democratized states make larger personnel contributions than other states, but their commitments decrease as their duration as democracies increases. These findings offer a

new explanation for why an emerging set of states has taken on the burden of peacekeeping in recent years. It also strengthens the understanding of how states use IOs in their quest for democratic stability, elucidating a variety of specific mechanisms. In what follows, I begin with a summary of the literature on peacekeeping contributions to date. I then develop a theory that democratizing states’ incentive to use IOs to strengthen democracy leads them to participate in UN peacekeeping. Following this, I conduct statistical analysis and discuss implications and future considerations.

2.2 Who Keeps the Peace?

While understanding the effectiveness of UN peacekeeping operations (UNPKOs) is still central to the study of peacekeeping, recent years have seen a growing interest in understanding who contributes resources to these missions and why, and not without good reason. In the last several years, as many as 108,000 peacekeepers have been deployed at any given time to no fewer than fifteen conflicts around the world. More than seventy missions have been in operation since the end of the Cold War (United Nations 2018a). Since

1990, 151 countries have contributed personnel in some form (Kathman 2013), while 49 countries became first-time contributors after 1989 (Findlay 1996, 4-6). The great variation in state contributions of peacekeeping personnel has drawn particular attention. For example, between 2000 and 2010, Bangladesh made an average annual contribution of 7,780 troops, while Switzerland gave 31. Ghana made a contribution equal to 17% of its standing military, while Japan’s amounted to 0.07%. Likewise, some missions are more successful at acquiring requested personnel than others. Between 1990 and 2010, the UN mission to India and Pakistan (UNMOGIP) was only 6% short of the mandated number of personnel for the mission in an average year, while ONUSAL in El Salvador had an average annual shortfall of 55% (Passmore, Shannon, and Hart 2018).

Understanding contribution patterns is more than merely academic. Much recent research has identified the importance of adequately resourcing missions for reducing violence and securing peace (Beardsley 2011; Hultman, Kathman, and Shannon 2013, 2014;

Passmore and Shannon 2018; Walter 2009), while others argue that the configuration of a mission is critical to its success, such as including national diversity or a greater number of female peacekeepers (Bove and Ruggeri 2015; Karim and Beardsley 2016). The study of what determines whether a country will contribute personnel to peacekeeping, and more so to what missions and in how great a number, is therefore of central importance to overcoming problems associated with resource deficiencies in peacekeeping.

To explain variation in contributions, previous studies have considered various push and pull factors relating either to the potential contributor, the country hosting the mission, or dyadic links between the two. Such explanations include shared political or security alignments with the conflict country (Fortna 2008), shared colonial history (Gilligan &

Stedman 2003; Marten 2004; Fortna 2008), shared ethnic affinity (Carment and James

2000), or the regime type of the conflict country (Perkins and Neumeyer 2008; Fortna 2008).

An emerging argument suggests that countries may contribute due to third party influences.

Since the establishment of missions is politically driven (Stojek and Tir 2015), powerful countries such as the UN Security Council Permanent Five might use coercion or incentives to encourage states to participate in order to protect or further their own interests (Henke

2016; Passmore, Shannon, and Hart 2015). States may also contribute for other reasons, such as to prevent the conflict spilling over its own borders (Dorn 1998; Bove and Elia 2011;

Binder 2015; Uzonyi 2015), or to protect financial interests relating to the conflict country

(Gaibulloev et al. 2009; Passmore, Shannon, and Hart 2018).

An important factor that has influenced this investigation is the overwhelming involvement of developing nations in peacekeeping missions in recent years. In the past,

missions were staffed largely by “middle powers” such as Canada and Austria, who lacked the power to influence global politics unilaterally and so chose multilateral peace operation as a means by which to effect change (Cunliffe 2013,12). At times, major powers also played a role, although only in select instances and often with narrow political motivations.

However, the post-Cold War era has witnessed the increasing role of developing nations in peacekeeping. Table 2.1 shows the top personnel contributors to UNPKOs from 2000-2010, both in total contributions and the size of the contribution relative to that country’s military size and expenditure. All three measures indicate the centrality of developing countries in peacekeeping over this period. The imbalance is most pronounced when considering countries’ military capacity. Accounting for military size, Ireland, Slovakia, Austria, and

New Zealand are the only OECD countries that appear in the top 25 contributors. When accounting for contributions as a proportion of defense expenditure, no OECD countries appear in the list.

Several explanations for this shift have been offered. One argument is that developing countries benefit financially from participation, and so are driven predominantly by economic incentives. Since the contributing state is reimbursed by the UN at a rate of

$1,428 per month for each peacekeeper (United Nations 2018b), this income may comprise a significant source of revenue for poorer states, while wealthier states would find that this amount does not cover the overhead of participating (Gaibulloev et al. 2015; Victor 2010).

However, others argue that this is unlikely to be a major driver of participation (Durch 1993,

50; Bove and Elia 2012). Cunliffe (2013: 172) states that peacekeeping income rarely comprises a notable proportion of a country’s defense budget, while Coleman (2014) highlights the fact that reimbursements from the UN are often late or do not arrive at all.

Blum (2000) finds no empirical link between financial need and contributions of personnel.

Table 2.1: Military contributions to UN peacekeeping missions, 2000-2010 (UN Department of Peacekeeping Operations).

Contribution Average Contribution as proportion monthly per US$1 Rank Country Country Country of total contribution million spent military of personnel on defense personnel 1 Bangladesh 7,780 Gambia 38.73 Ghana 0.17 2 Pakistan 7,711 Ghana 33.55 Gambia 0.15 3 India 6,005 Nepal 17.22 Benin 0.13 4 Nigeria 3,794 Rwanda 13.90 Senegal 0.10 5 Jordan 2,859 Benin 13.37 Fiji 0.10 6 Ghana 2,785 Senegal 9.19 Uruguay 0.08 7 Nepal 2,687 Niger 8.94 Niger 0.07 8 Uruguay 1,903 Fiji 8.92 Kenya 0.06 9 Ethiopia 1,581 Togo 8.47 Bangladesh 0.05 10 Kenya 1,407 Uruguay 8.38 Nigeria 0.05 11 Senegal 1,369 Bangladesh 8.29 Zambia 0.05 12 South Africa 1,329 Guinea 8.27 Ireland 0.04 13 Egypt 1,228 Nigeria 4.94 Togo 0.03 14 Morocco 1,147 Ethiopia 4.58 Namibia 0.03 15 Italy 1,098 Kenya 3.53 Rwanda 0.03 16 China 1,090 Mongolia 3.37 Jordan 0.03 17 France 1,079 Malawi 2.67 Nepal 0.03 18 Rwanda 1,001 Jordan 2.56 Guinea 0.02 19 Ukraine 884 Zambia 2.26 South Africa 0.02 20 Brazil 874 Burkina Faso 2.20 Malawi 0.02 21 Poland 813 Pakistan 1.86 Slovakia 0.02 22 Argentina 785 Bolivia 1.72 Austria 0.02 23 Zambia 679 Namibia 1.43 New Zealand 0.02 24 Benin 655 Tanzania 1.03 Burkina Faso 0.01 25 Indonesia 593 Guatemala 0.94 Mongolia 0.01

2.3 Regime Type and UNPKO Participation

A small number of studies has considered the role of domestic politics as a motivation

for personnel contributions, including reducing internal and external threats to security

(Kathman and Melin 2017) and pursuing foreign policy goals (Ward and Dorussen 2016).

Within this category are several studies that consider the state’s regime type, primarily

investigating the effect of being a democracy on contributing personnel. However, the

narrow scope and disparate findings of these studies leave little clarity of the relationship

between domestic politics and peacekeeping involvement.

Previous investigations have argued that more democratic states will be the ones to offer up their military personnel for UNPKOs, while more autocratic states will be the least likely to get involved. There exist two prominent mechanisms underlying this link, which are drawn largely from broader theories concerning the democratic peace (Babst 1972; Doyle

1983; Maoz 1998; Russett and Starr 2000; Russett and Oneal 2001). First, democracies believe more readily in the civil, political, and human rights afforded to all people, and that such rights should be promoted and protected wherever possible (Bellamy and Williams

2013, 11). Second, democracies may seek to increase the number of other democracies in the global system to foster an international order more conducive to the thriving of peace and prosperity (Lebovic 2004, 12). Peacekeeping may thus be seen as the vehicle by which democracy can be spread throughout the world to protect the rights of people and simultaneously enrich global order and the security and wealth of the democratizers. If these assertions are true, one would expect to see broad and consistent participation in peacekeeping missions from strong democracies. In recent decades, however, this has not been the case. Rather, there is great variation both among democracies, where some contribute but others choose not to, and in individual cases, where a given democracy’s contributions are drastically inconsistent across time and missions. Moreover, this argument fails to explain why many non-democracies participate regularly and substantially in peacekeeping.

There are also problems associated with applying theories of democratic peace to this phenomenon. The most empirically supported mechanism of the democratic peace considers domestic institutional constraints and audience costs as a major inhibitor of aggressive behavior towards other states (Doyle 1986; Fearon 1994; Schultz 1998; Bueno de Mesquita et al. 1999, 2004). However, such rational behavior does not logically extend to peacekeeping. Since institutional and audience constraints promote peaceful relations

through restricting the government’s use of force when conflicts arise between it and another country, it does not logically follow that those same factors would promote the use of force to engender peace in an ongoing conflict somewhere else in the world. Anecdotally, this reluctance to fight likely explains why so many strong democracies have shifted from providing peacekeepers to supporting the mission with funding, equipment, and expertise.

Moreover, appealing to the literature on the democratic peace is puzzling since evidence for this phenomenon has been found only to apply in cases where states are considered “strong” democracies, whereas states with weakly democratic political institutions are the most prone to instability of all states in the international system (Mansfield and Snyder 1995). It therefore seems that if democracy is to be considered an important factor in driving state contributions of peacekeepers, a more precise theoretical explanation is required.

In addition to theoretical obscurity, the empirical record testing this relationship has been mixed. While some studies have found that more democratic states contribute more often and in greater numbers (Andersson 2002; Lebovic 2004; Perkins and Neumeyer 2008), others have concluded that there is no such discernible relationship (Victor 2010; Uzonyi

2015; Kathman and Melin 2017). There are three possible explanations for these disparate findings. The first is time. As the burden of providing peacekeepers has shifted to developing countries in recent years, many of which are weak democracies or autocracies, it is possible that a once-existing link between democracy and participation has been weakened in recent years. During the 1990s, France, the United Kingdom, Canada, Austria, Finland, the United

States, and Ireland all appeared at various points in the top ten personnel contributors

(Heldt 2008). However, from 2001-2011, not one of these countries, nor any other western developed state, appeared in the top ten. Those that did make up the top ten contributed

60% of the personnel during this decade, while western countries provided only 6%.3 Along

3 Calculated using data from Kathman (2013). 21

this line of reasoning, Andersson (2002) finds that democracies are more likely to contribute to UNPKOs, but the sample covers only the years 1991-1999. Similarly, Lebovic’s (2004) positive finding covers the period 1992-2001, although the difference in contributions of democracies and non-democracies becomes statistically insignificant in 2000 and 2001.

Studies covering a later time frame find no relationship between democracy and contributions (Victor 2010; Uzonyi 2015; Kathman and Melin 2017). These insights taken together suggest the linear relationship between democracy and UNPKO participation may have once existed, but has disappeared or changed in nature in recent years. Indeed, most of the above-mentioned studies, covering the years shortly after the end of Cold War, may have simply been picking up on a spurious correlation between the post-Cold War diffusion of democracy and the sudden surge in contributors to UNPKOs.

A second possible explanation for disparate findings on this question is method: in particular, the measurement of regime type and peacekeeping contributions. The six studies cited above use various measures of regime type, including the Freedom House Index

(Andersson 2002, Victor 2010) and the more common Polity measure (Marshall and Jaggers

2010), which in some cases is used as a scale (-10 to 10) (Lebovic 2004, Perkins and

Neumeyer 2008, Uzonyi 2015) and in others is dichotomized (Andersson 2002, Kathman and

Melin 2017). Samples vary across both time and space (for example, Victor 2010 looks only at contributions from African countries). The studies also use varied measures of the dependent variable – participation in UNPKOs – such as a dichotomous measure of participation for sending at least one peacekeeper (Lebovic 2004, Perkins and Neumeyer

2008; Uzonyi 2015; Kathman and Melin 2017), a count of the total personnel given in a year

(Lebovic 2004; Victor 2010; Uzonyi 2015; Kathman and Melin 2017); troops only (Perkins and Neumeyer 2008; Uzonyi 2015; Kathman and Melin 2017); troops and military observers

(Victor 2010); or all uniformed personnel (Lebovic 2004). In short, there is little in terms of

overlap to suggest that these studies offer a unified and conclusive assessment of the impact of regime type on UNPKO participation.

A third possible explanation for the varied findings is that some unidentified process underlies the relationship between regime type and participation in peacekeeping that has not yet been uncovered. Specifically, it may be that while regime type is a factor in the decision to contribute to UNPKOs, the relationship may not be linear in the way previous studies have assumed. Since new or weak democracies face a host of different challenges to strong, established ones, there may be factors specific to one subset and absent in the other that promote or inhibit participation in peacekeeping. Such a possibility would be missed if democracy is dichotomized and the middle category of states (those not considered strong democracies or strong autocracies) is omitted. Moreover, where regime type is measured as a continuous variable, it remains possible that a subset of states with moderate democracy scores, but not necessarily the highest, is driving the observed result, which diminishes as democracy becomes stronger. The increasing role in peacekeeping of developing countries with weak to moderate democratic institutions suggests this is a sub-group of states that has unique incentives to contribute, and may therefore drive an underlying process in this relationship. Further still, it may be that a subset of democracies, based not on the strength of their institutions but the age of them, is a driving factor.

No existing cross-national study has considered the nuances of the relationship between regime type and UNPKO contributions, despite a rich literature on democratization and its connection to international factors. I argue that considering the unique incentives of newly democratized states for contributing peacekeepers clarifies the muddy waters of this research area. Specifically, I argue that the rise of new contributors to peacekeeping can be partially explained by the desire of those states to reap benefits for democratic consolidation.

Such incentives are not systematically present for established democracies and non-

democracies, and it is these incentives that can explain much of the shift in personnel contribution patterns in recent years.

2.4 The Democratization-Peacekeeping Nexus

The post-Cold War era ushered in an unprecedented wave of democratization. In total, seventy-seven countries experienced a transition to democracy after 1990 (measured as an increase in the state’s Polity score to +6 or above). Figure 2.1 shows the sharp rise in democracies during this period. Yet these transitions, like many before them, were not without problems. Many states succumbed to backsliding in the face of institutional or economic crises, forced takeover, or civil war. Of the seventy-seven states making the transition to democracy, thirty-one had at least one experience of backsliding. The most commonly cited causes of failed democracy are economic underperformance and military intervention (Cheibub 2007; Gasiorowski 1995; Przeworski et al. 2000).

New democracies face the unique challenge of providing public goods while simultaneously having political institutions often too weak to do so. Failure to stimulate economic development, implement civil rights and the rule of law, and incorporate varied groups into civil society will compromise the government’s credibility, reduce faith in democracy, and open the door to autocratic predators. In order to overcome these challenges, many emerging democracies have embraced international organizations (IOs) for their perceived benefits. Research indicates that joining or participating in IOs can ultimately support successful transition to, or consolidation of, democracy (Pevehouse 2002; Poast and

Urpelainen 2015). This is achieved through three theorized mechanisms: sending a credible signal of commitment to democracy through involvement in the IO, the transfer of information from the IO regarding how to strengthen democratic institutions, and being socialized through exposure to democratic practices. After discussing the challenge of weak democracies gaining access to such organizations, I examine how UN peacekeeping

participation offers benefits through each of these three mechanisms. Specifically, it provides means for the state to both provide public goods and reduce the threat of the military, staving off two of the biggest threats to democratic success.

Figure 2.1: Global number of democracies by year

2.4.1 Entry Barriers

In order to gain access to the benefits of an IO, the state must first be able to get a seat at the table. IOs often have high entry barriers for poor or undemocratic states, who may not be able to comply with rigorous membership requirements, or may simply be an undesirable addition from the perspective of existing members. Democratizing states may therefore struggle to fully utilize the IOs that matter, being restricted to smaller regional arrangements. While the latter may provide a stepping stone to membership in more prominent IOs in later years (Poast and Urpelainen 2013), this process demands time and investment that is not always a luxury for fledgling democracies. Participation in UN

peacekeeping is an ideal vehicle for these states, not only for the benefits it provides, but due to its low entry barriers. Shortfalls in personnel are an ever-present problem for peacekeeping. On average, missions between 1990 and 2010 experienced a personnel deficiency of 21.6 per cent below the authorized level (Passmore, Shannon, and Hart 2018:

367). This need often outweighs the ability of the UN to be selective about the states from which it receives peacekeepers. Peacekeeping is therefore an easy entry point to IO involvement for democratizing states. Secondly, a democratizing state’s participation in peacekeeping is unlikely to be opposed by the powerful members of the IO, which consist largely of economically-developed, established democracies. These countries have mostly shifted their involvement from contributing personnel to providing operations with funding, equipment, and logistical support (Bellamy and Williams 2013: 2). Many of them have much to lose, either economically or politically, if the mission fails. These states will therefore encourage the participation of states with inferior military capacity and weaker political institutions.

2.4.2 Credible Signal

A new democracy’s participation in an IO – and peacekeeping more specifically – sends an important signal to three audiences: the military, the domestic public, and the international community. Regarding the military, nascent democracies have historically been regular victims of military coups, particularly where a legacy of military power exists.

Cheibub (2007: 140) reports that democracies are 70 per cent more likely to fail when following a military dictatorship than a civilian one. Svolik (2008: 162) finds that only one in eight democracies preceded by a military dictatorship will consolidate, while nine out of ten democracies transitioning from other regime types will experience successful consolidation. New democracies find themselves having to balance their newfound responsibility to the public with the existing commitment to the military, and likely do not

have the option of paying rents in exchange for non-intervention, unlike authoritarian leaders (Acemoglu et al. 2010: 2). Competing demands for public spending leave such governments in a quandary, whereby the public will expect to see improved economic conditions, and will oppose continued high spending on the military. Since economic growth is of paramount importance to democratic survival, the government will have little choice but to divert funds away from ‘guns’ and towards ‘butter’.

Yet while the public may be placated by government spending on public goods, the military will experience dissatisfaction if its budget is downsized. In addition, the military will most likely lose a degree of status in a democratic transition: decision making has been decentralized, repression of the public through military force is no longer acceptable, and depending on the nature of the transition, there may even be calls for punishment or major reform of the armed forces. The military will thus likely see democratic transition as a threat and increase its likelihood of intervening or instigating a full-on coup. The consolidation of democracy in the presence of a strong military requires a credible signal that the military will not be weakened, punished, or decommissioned.

By involving the military in peacekeeping, the government signals to the military that it will not be decommissioned or lose important benefits with its changing role in society. The constant demand for peacekeepers offers an indefinite commitment to military activity, while also providing training often superior to that they have received domestically.

Serving as a peacekeeper is also a source of individual pride, as well as an opportunity to experience other countries and cultures (Battistelli 1997). It can also be a significant source of income for a soldier, where even if she does not receive the entire UN remuneration, it will usually far exceed the salary for domestic service. These benefits for the military will help assuage its sense of uncertainty and animosity during a democratic transition. The government benefits, since the remuneration for peacekeepers – while not enough to sustain

the military outright – can serve to supplement the military budget, allowing for public funds to be diverted to other social priorities. Furthermore, involvement in UNPKOs physically removes the military from the political sphere, reducing its capacity to exert its influence and reinforcing the democratic government’s autonomy.

Involvement in IOs also serves as a credible signal to domestic actors. IOs that require the state to lock in reforms or that have a socializing effect on the regime give confidence that political and economic liberalization will occur. Failing to secure this confidence can lead to popular support for regime change, either through revolution or a military coup. Indeed, poor economic performance is one of the strongest predictors of an authoritarian backslide (Gasiorowski 1995; Przeworksi et al. 2000; Svolik 2008). Making a credible commitment to domestic business elites is particularly important, since this group may be instrumental in fomenting a military coup if it fears its interests are at risk through economic decline or policies of nationalization or redistribution. Such support for coups was particularly predominant among business elites in Latin America in the 1960s and 1970s

(Pevehouse 2002: 525).

When a new democracy becomes a major contributor to UN peacekeeping, the country’s increased international status, as well as growing economic and political support from other countries, will engender public confidence that economic growth is likely to follow. Moreover, the reduction of the military threat indicates that the positive changes will also be stable, as the likelihood of a coup is reduced. Confidence in the government will assuage threats of a popular revolt against the democratic order (although the longevity of this is contingent on actual economic growth following soon thereafter). In particular, domestic economic elites, who have the potential to incite regime change through either revolution or military coup, will have increased confidence as economic liberalization promises to bring in investment and trade, with the prospect of long term stability.

Lastly (and not directly addressed in this study), involvement in certain IOs acts as a credible signal to the international community that the state is serious about democratic reform, which increases support from outside. Since countries with weak democratic institutions are at an increased risk of regime instability, they suffer reduced credibility as targets of foreign economic policy (Dreher and Voigt 2011). Adopting strict membership requirements or establishing interdependence between members raises the costs of defection, while engaging in interactions that promote liberalization. As a result, the state will be a more attractive target for trade, investment, and development aid from other members of the IO and beyond (Li and Resnick 2003; Mansfield & Pevehouse 2006: 141).

While this behavior may apply to both democracies and non-democracies seeking to credibly commit to reform, the lack of accountability to a broad domestic audience undermines the credibility of such commitments in non-democracies. The use of IOs to establish credible commitments is therefore best suited to new and weak democracies, whose leaders can be effectively punished domestically for defection (Dai 2005; Moravcsik 2000: 220).

Contributing personnel to peacekeeping missions accomplishes this in a number of ways. Since UN peacekeeping has always been heavily oriented around wealthy and politically prominent democracies, becoming a major contributor indicates a desire to be seen as legitimate by, and therefore improve relations with, these states. The established democracies will welcome the involvement of the democratizing states, not only so they can relieve them of the burden of providing peacekeepers, but also because it offers greater access to strengthening democracy in that state, which is beneficial for the democratic community. A greater number of established democracies promises a lower occurrence of conflict globally (Gleditsch and Hegre 1997; Kadera et al. 2003), as well as increased economic cooperation and stability (Milner and Kubota 2005). Democracies therefore see the democratization of other states as an important foreign policy goal. Moreover, by serving in

UNPKOs, the state will be exposed to the pro-democracy agenda of UN peacekeeping.

Serving under a democratic leadership and alongside democratic peacekeepers from other countries to implement peace agreements, protect civilians, and oversee activities such as community building and elections will have a socializing effect on the military and state bureaucrats that will further increase international confidence that the state is growing deeper democratic roots. As Whitehead (1996: 248) states: “[S]uccess in supporting democracy abroad has served to reinforce the legitimation of the democratic order at home.”

In response, confidence in the reform and stability of the new democracy will lead to increased access to international economic dividends. Moreover, the improved international reputation gained by the state will signal to belligerent domestic actors that any attempts to wrest control from the government will be met with international opposition.

2.4.3 Information Provision

IOs act as important environments where information can be disseminated to member states, either directly from the IO or by other members (Keohane 1984: 94;

Thompson 2006). One form of information sharing within IOs is technical expertise. Since the primary problems faced by democratizing states include weak political institutions and a need to provide public goods, such states will likely seek out IOs that can aid in these areas. IOs can serve as a source of knowledge and expertise, providing technical assistance for tasks such as election monitoring, advising the government on matters of administration and capacity, and the development of public services and infrastructure (Abbott and Snidal

1998; Finnemore 1993; Poast and Urpelainen 2018: 8). Receiving such benefits from involvement in an IO strengthens domestic governance and aids the government in its ability to provide public goods, which in turn reduce the probability of authoritarian reversal. While peacekeeping involvement does not necessarily result in the targeted transmission of technical assistance to the contributing state, this occurs indirectly through

the involvement of its personnel in the operations. Military and police gain experience in a broad range of conflict resolution tasks and nation-building activities. This might include monitoring elections, protecting civilians, community engagement, and a host of other activities that support liberal society and democratic governance. Moreover, those involved at the higher levels of mission leadership participate in the planning and execution of programs to rebuild communities, procure enduring peace, and establish the rule of law and sustainable governance through political reform and capacity building (United Nations

2018c). Such experiences can be incorporated into institution-building, as well as military and police activities, in the sending country. Peacekeeping, as a common pool of expertise that tends to be dominated by established democracies and the bureaucracy of the UN, therefore offers a way for democratizing states to acquire knowledge of how to develop stable democratic governance.

2.4.4 Socialization

The third mechanism by which involvement in IOs supports democratization is through the socialization of those involved. Defined as “[T]he process by which actors acquire different identities, leading to new interests through regular and sustained interactions within broader social contexts and structures” (Bearce and Bondanella 2007: 706), theories of socialization predict that interaction with other democracies in an IO will lead to the adoption of democratic norms by the newcomer (Checkel 2001; Johnston 2001) and the convergence of the state’s preferences to the group’s (Bearce and Bondanella 2007). New democracies may join IOs with the hope of socializing their leaders and bureaucrats to democratic norms. Beyond government elites, other actors may also be socialized.

The socializing aspect of peacekeeping is closely connected to the professionalizing effect of information provision, although the two are distinct in important ways. Indeed, rarely is professionalization unaccompanied by some degree of socialization. As Finnemore

and Sikkink (1998: 905) state: ‘Professional training does more than simply transfer technical knowledge; it actively socializes people to value certain things over others.’ The professionalization of the military alone is likely undesirable for a newly democratic state without its simultaneous socialization to democratic norms. Gaining experience in fostering social order, providing public goods, and other related tasks may only reinforce the military’s prior praetorian tendencies and increase the likelihood of its interference in domestic politics

(Levin et al. 2016; Sotomayor 2014). The military must therefore not only be professionalized in order to transmit skills and expertise back into the home state, but also adopt an internal orientation towards democratic rule (Huntington 1957). In short, the military must become politically disengaged and adopt an understanding that democracy is ‘the only game in town’

(Poast and Urpelainen 2018: 5).

Through UN peacekeeping, militaries are likely to be socialized to pro-democratic norms in two ways. Firstly, the very nature of peacekeeping requires an orientation shift away from traditional military behaviors. Moskos’ (1976) theory of the ‘postmodern military’ identifies the changing nature of military roles as interstate conflict becomes less prominent, and international cooperation becomes the norm. Referring specifically to democracies, the declining need for nationalistic militaries seeking out external threats would require militaries to become more international in nature, participating in a global movement towards peace and intervention. As Moskos writes:

“Traditional military training… seeks to socialize men into the acceptance of violence, to develop skills in the use of lethal weaponry, and to promote the desirability of ‘victory’ in the field. Contrarily, the skills of the peacekeeping soldier require such traits as the avoidance of violence, quiescent monitoring, negotiation, and compromise (9).”

Such values would in turn orient the military to a more amenable domestic role, subverting itself to civilian authority and the rule of law. It is only when balancing these social values with its functional imperative, so argues Huntington (1957: 2), that the military can be

satisfactorily contained within a society. Through peacekeeping, soldiers are exposed to such a democratic form of civil-military relations.

Secondly, soldiers can be socialized through sustained interaction with personnel from strongly democratic militaries. Although contributions from strong democracies have been in decline in recent years, many key roles are filled by such militaries, either in the mission’s leadership or as the largest contingent on the ground, as was case with the United

Kingdom and France respectively in the peacekeeping missions in Sierra Leone and Côte d’Ivoire. Serving alongside militaries not only more experienced in the internationalist norms of the UN but also in participating in democratic society suggests democratic norms will be diffused to the less democratic militaries. Referring to this effect within peacekeeping, Sotomayor (2014: 6) states that:

“The possibility of guiding a military away from undemocratic practices depends on whether participating forces are exposed to armies with healthy traditions of democratic civilian control. The more interaction between democratizing and already democratized soldiers, the more likely that socialization will serve as a form of emulation and persuasion.”

Serving in an international capacity saturated in pro-democracy norms of civil-military relations, as well as working alongside soldiers from established democracies, creates a good opportunity for peacekeepers to be socialized in a way that will support the consolidation of democracy back home.

Positive socialization is, of course, not guaranteed. Anecdotes abound of peacekeepers whose behavior far from reflects democratic values, and some even suggest that interacting with warring parties or performing certain tasks can reinforce militaristic tendencies, thereby increasing the threat to the democratic government (Dwyer 2015; Levin et al. 2016;

Scobell 1994). However, this should not reduce the government’s incentive to contribute altogether, but merely to be more selective in its deployment, preferring to send its troops to missions where there is a strong democratic contingent or where tasks will not lead to

such unintended outcomes.

2.5 Hypotheses

For the various reasons discussed above, I argue that democratizing states stand to gain much from contributing uniformed personnel to UN peacekeeping operations.

Moreover, these benefits are largely unique to this set of states, which makes democratizing states likely to be more significant contributors than other states. Participating in peacekeeping in the early years of democracy provides a means for states with weak institutions and limited capacity to appease the military in the short term, and reorient it in the long term to create a stable civil-military relationship. Meanwhile, resources can be diverted to social spending, and growing public confidence in the government and democratic system more broadly will increase the likelihood of democratic consolidation. Established democracies and non-democracies may have separate incentives to contribute, but there is little empirical evidence or theoretical explanation that undergirds a systematic incentive for these two groups. This leads to my first, and most foundational, hypothesis:

H2.1: Recently democratized states will make larger personnel contributions to UN

peacekeeping operations than other states.

Since the incentives offered to these states are time-sensitive – it is new democracies that face such challenges – there will likely come a point where making large contributions is no longer optimal. This may be because it has achieved desired outcomes, such as the reorientation of the military towards democratic norms, or ultimately the consolidation of democracy. These states will subsequently choose to reduce their peacekeeping commitments over time. I therefore offer a follow up hypothesis that predicts a diminishing effect of new democracy on peacekeeping contributions:

H2.2: An increase in time since a state became a democracy will lead to a reduction in the

size of personnel contributions.

An alternative to Hypothesis 2.2 posits that peacekeeping contributions become engrained in the states’ foreign policy, and they continue to be major contributors long after becoming a consolidated democracy. Therefore, while my theory posits that diminished contributions are the most likely pattern that will occur, potential variation may be seen.

2.6 Research Design

I test the relationship between democratization and UNPKO personnel contributions on the sample of all UN member states and covering 66 UN peacekeeping operations from

1990 to 2011. The sample of states is restricted to those for whom regime data is available, totaling 166 countries. Since I am interested in state contributions to peacekeeping in general, as opposed to specific missions, I employ a contributor-year unit of analysis, where standard errors are clustered on the contributor to account for correlated errors within each cluster.

2.6.1 Models and Dependent Variables

The dependent variable, contribution, measures the average monthly contribution of personnel, consisting of troops, police, and military observers, made by a state to all

UNPKOs in a given year (Kathman 2013). Unlike other studies that use the total personnel in a year, I use the average monthly count in a year. Deployment data are collected monthly, and since troops are not replaced on a monthly basis but rather usually serve a six- or twelve- month deployment, adding months up to give an annual figure is misleading as personnel serving for more than one month will be counted multiple times. This also overcomes the

problem of countries only contributing for a few months in a year, where summing these into a yearly total would underrepresent that country’s contribution. Therefore, while the dependent variable is still at the yearly level, it is measured as the average monthly contribution of a country in that year. The mean state contribution for the sample is 269 personnel in an average month. Removing the observations of zero (i.e. looking only at when countries do contribute), the mean is 553 personnel.

This variable is equal to zero in 60.3 per cent of observations, suggesting that the average country in a given year is less likely to contribute personnel than to contribute.

There are likely two separate processes determining this behavior. First, states decide whether or not they will contribute to UNPKOs at all. Various factors drive this decision, such as having a standing military, being deliberately disengaged from multilateral engagement, or being embroiled in its own domestic strife. Subsequently, states make a separate decision as to what size of contribution it will make to a UNPKO. The factors determining its involvement are not necessarily the same that will dictate its contribution size, where small deployments might be driven by a desire to make a token contribution

(Coleman 2013) and large deployments may seek other types of political or financial gain that increase as the contribution size increases. To account for the possibility that separate processes determine whether a state will contribute at all and how many personnel it will contribute, I employ a zero-inflated negative binomial regression (ZINB), which has been a common method in recent studies assessing UNPKO contributions (Kathman and Melin

2017; Uzonyi 2015). The ZINB model consists of two components. First is a logit equation that tests the probability that states will never participate in UNPKOs. For this equation, I model a set of predictors that are likely to affect a state’s decision to even contribute to a

UNPKO in the first place. The second component is a negative binomial equation, which uses as the dependent variable the count of personnel contributed by a state. Predictors in

this equation therefore address those factors likely to influence the size of a state’s contribution. Following the primary analysis, I also re-estimate the models using a dependent variable measuring only military personnel (troop and observers). This is an important consideration since a major aspect of my theory relates to the desire of states to deal specifically with the domestic threat of the military in making their personnel contributions, whereas the present chapter seeks to give evidence to a broader relationship between contributions and democratization.

2.6.2 Democratization

Measuring the concept of democracy is an inherently complex process that has caused much debate (e.g. Collier and Adcock 1999; Elkins 2000). A variety of approaches have resulted in multiple measures, including ordinal scales such as Polity IV (Marshall et al.

2010) and the Freedom House Index, and dichotomous measures such as Przeworski et al.

(2000) and Boix et al. (2013). In this study, I employ the Polity measure for three primary reasons. Firstly, Polity is the most commonly used measure of democracy in international relations literature, and has been the measure of choice in virtually all studies addressing

UN peacekeeping contributions (Victor 2010 is the exception) and studies on the relationship between democratization and international organizations (Pevehouse 2005; Mansfield and

Pevehouse 2006; Poast and Urpelainen 2018). Secondly, a scaled measure is preferable to a dichotomous one for the purposes of my theory, since I consider subcategories of regime type beyond democracy and non-democracy. Dichotomous democracy measures do not allow for differentiation of types of non-democracy, nor to distinguish between strong and weak democracies.4 Lastly, a substantial body of research favors graded over dichotomous measures (Bollen 1990; Dahl 1971, 1989; Collier and Adcock 1999; Elkins 2000). For

4 In the Appendix, I offer additional commentary on this selection choice, addressing in particular why I do not conduct robustness checks using alternative measures. 37

example, Elkins (2000) finds through construct validity tests that graded democracy measures are both more reliable empirically and conform more closely to the role of democracy theorized by social scientists.

In studies using the Polity scale, there is no universal agreement on when a state moves from being a non-democracy to a democracy. Most commonly, a democracy is a country with a score of +6 or higher on the Polity scale. I therefore employ this as the cutoff.

The baseline variable, democratization, is a binary measure that receives a one if a state went from a Polity score of +5 or below to +6 or above in a given year. Since previous studies have considered a reasonable time lapse to still be considered a democratizing state as five years (Mansfield and Pevehouse 2006; Poast and Urpelainen 2013), I include increasing annual windows within which a state has democratized, ranging from transitioning in the current year to transitioning within the last five years. Since these variables are lagged by one year to account for possible reverse causality, they are denoted as t-1 up to t-5. In using these variables, one must decide how to deal with situations where a state reverts to non- democracy within the given period. It is possible that a state will democratize, but then experience a backslide during the subsequent five-year period. I therefore replace observations as zero if they have reverted to a state of autocracy in that year (-6 or below). I do not apply this rule to states backsliding to anocracy (+5 to -5), since some semblance of democratic governance most likely remains and the state may continue to use peacekeeping in an attempt to reintroduce democracy.

2.6.3 Control Variables

I include a number of control variables in one or both equations of the model.

Intrastate conflict is a binary measure reflecting whether or not the potential contributing country is engaged in a domestic conflict. One would expect such states to have little desire to send their uniformed personnel to international peacekeeping missions. This measure is

taken from the UCDP/PRIO Armed Conflict Dataset (Allansson et al. 2017; Gleditsch et al.

2002). I include two different measures of a country’s military capacity. First, military size represents the total armed forces personnel in that country. Second, military spending measures the total expenditure on the military by a state in a given year. Countries with more military personnel or that spend more on the military will be more capable of supporting UNPKOs in greater measure. I use the natural log of both variables to account for skewed distribution. Data for both are drawn from the CINC/Correlates of War Project

(Singer et al. 1972).

I include the natural log of the country’s per capita gross domestic product, GDPpc, which is taken from Gleditsch (2002). Since some have argued states may contribute larger numbers of peacekeepers to receive the economic gain from UN remuneration (Gaibulloev et al. 2015; Levin et al. 2016), it is important to control for this so as to ensure that any relationship between democratization and contributions is not spuriously driven by the underlying effect of economic underdevelopment. Global missions is the total number of

UNPKOs taking place globally in that year, reflecting the opportunity states have to contribute. P5 is a binary measure that indicates if the potential contributor is a member of the UN Security Council Permanent Five. Since these states have a vested interest in the success of the mission (Stojek and Tir 2015), they may offer large numbers of their own personnel. I also include the natural log of the country’s population (Singer et al. 1972). A larger population may reflect greater public accountability of the government, as well as a greater need for capacity in its institutions. This also serves as a crude proxy for the availability of citizens to serve as civilian police peacekeepers.

I include a measure of a state’s recent experience with a coup attempt. Kathman and

Melin (2017) find that states with more recent experience of a coup make larger personnel contributions to UNPKOs, but that this effect diminishes as the time since the coup

increases. I include a similar measure as used in that study, years since coup, with a squared term to account for the identified non-linear relationship. Unlike that study, I include all coup attempts, successful and failed, rather than just failed. Coup data come from Powell and Thyne (2011). I include a count of the years from 1990 to 2011, as well as squared and cubed terms, which will identify underlying shifts in general contribution patterns over the time period. I also include dummy variables reflecting the region in which the state is found geographically, since the effects of regional institutions or spatial contagion may cause greater participation from some regions than others.

Finally, I include the dependent variable lagged by one year in the count equation, since it is highly probable that a state’s contribution in year t is correlated with its contribution in year t-1. I also include in the inflation equation the variable participate, a binary measure of whether or not a country contributed any personnel at all in the previous year. Where potential reverse causality may occur, I lag covariates by one year. The decision of whether to include variables in only one or both equations is driven by theoretical justification. Years since coup, P5, and population are only included in the count equation, since these variables are unlikely to determine if a state will participate at all, but should influence the size of the contribution. Year counts and region dummies are restricted to the inflation equation, since they address the opportunity present for states to participate in peacekeeping that may vary within the given time period or according to regional characteristics that are otherwise unaccounted for (Kathman and Melin 2017).

Democratization is included in both equations. However, I do not expect this variable to affect a state’s decision to participate at all, since a broad range of countries make token contributions of peacekeepers (Coleman 2013). I therefore expect this variable to have a significant effect on only the size of the contribution.

2.7 Results and Discussion

It should first be noted that the choice of a zero-inflated negative binomial test is confirmed by two tests. First, a ZIP test examines the choice of a ZINB over a zero-inflated

Poisson model. Taking Model 1 in Table 2.2 as an example, the alpha value of 0.626 is found to be statistically significantly different from zero, indicating the presence of overdispersion in the data and thus the need for a ZINB. Second, a Vuong test gives a z-score of 33.68, which is highly statistically significant. This indicates that two processes underlie the outcome variable, and so a ZINB regression is preferable to simply using a negative binomial test without a preceding inflation equation.

Results from testing the relationship of democratization on UNPKO personnel contributions are shown in Table 2.2. For each model, both the inflation and count equations are shown. As expected, being a new democracy does not make a state more likely to participate in peacekeeping missions than other states, but it does lead to larger contributions than others. The coefficient for democratization in each model’s inflation equation never reaches statistical significance, whereas in the count equations it is positive and statistically significant. The coefficient decreases in size as the temporal measurement of democratization is broadened, indicating that as time passes since democratization, these states reduce their contributions. In other words, new democracies seem to make their largest contributions closer to the time of transition. By calculating the substantive effects of being a new democracy, holding other variables at their means, the true impact of this transition can be seen. When measuring democratization as taking place within one year, a new democracy will give 319 peacekeepers, 58.5 per cent more than other states, which give

201 (see Figure 2.2). Even with the broadest measurement of democratization (occurring within the previous five years), a new democracy will give 29.3 per cent more than other states. While the democratization coefficient in all four models is statistically significant at

Table 2.2: Effect of democratization on UN peacekeeping personnel contributions.

95 per cent, it is only significant at 90 per cent for the five-year lag (this model is not shown in the table for the sake of space). This, combined with the declining coefficient size, suggests that an increase in time not only leads to reduced contributions, but that those contributions are no longer significantly different to other states. These arguments are more effectively tested by Hypothesis 2.2 later.

Figure 2.2: Effect of democratization on peacekeeping contributions.

Looking at the other covariates, the lagged dependent variable is a strong predictor of contributions: a state’s personnel contribution in a given year is heavily predicted by its contribution in the previous year. This is to be expected, as states are typically not prone to drastically increasing or decreasing their global contributions from one year to the next.

States experiencing their own internal conflict are no less likely to participate in peacekeeping, but give fewer personnel than states without conflict. Factors relating to military capacity have no discernible effect on contribution size: a state is no more likely to make a large contribution if it has a more sizeable military or spends more money on it. Those

familiar with UN peacekeeping will not find this too surprising. In 2010, for example, the top ten contributors came far down the list in terms of military size, including Rwanda (77th),

Uruguay (85th), and Ghana (100th), (Singer et al. 1972). The lack of relationship between military spending and contributions is also not difficult to explain. States with large military budgets tend to be developed states that prefer to contribute to missions with equipment and technology rather than soldiers, or engage in alternative forms of intervention.

States are also no more likely to make large contributions with a recent history of a coup. While this finding is contrary to that of Kathman and Melin (2017), the current test uses a slightly different measure of the variable, as well as including non-military personnel in the dependent variable. These, along with the model specification, neglect to make this a true replication (although this is tested more stringently in Chapter 3). The fact that democratization is statistically significant alongside the insignificance of years since coup indicates that the effect of democratization is not the spurious reflection of general coup- proofing activity among developing states.

As expected, states with a larger population make greater contributions than other states. A state’s per capita GDP has no significant effect either on the decision to participate or the size of any resulting contribution. While the former is not surprising (even wealthy countries contribute some personnel), the latter finding challenges the argument that developing countries participate in peacekeeping primarily for financial gain. Relating to the

UN, members of the P5 do not make larger contributions than other states when accounting for other factors. This suggests that while they may have a vested interest in the success of missions, this either results in sending personnel to a select few missions where those interests are higher (such as the United States in Haiti), or in finding other ways to support the mission, such as through financial support (the P5 members pay over 50 per cent of the

annual peacekeeping budget (United Nations 2018b)). Finally, and surprisingly, a larger number of total missions occurring globally leads to a smaller average annual contribution from states. It is understandable that states may not increase their contributions when more missions occur, as they have finite resources. However, there is no obvious theoretical explanation for a decline in contributions when more missions exist. States may perhaps contract peacekeeping fatigue if overall demand is too great, or a higher presence of global conflict may indicate that their military personnel are being used in other unilateral or multilateral interventions.

The above models test the effect of being a new democracy on UNPKO contributions compared with all other states. Beyond these findings, it is important to understand how new democracies perform relative to different types of other states. It could be that a large number of non-contributing autocracies, for example, is driving the result, whereas strong democracies do in fact make large contributions. Table 2.3 shows the effect of democratization compared with three other types of state: established democracies, established autocracies, and anocracies. As with democratization, these variables are constructed using the Polity IV dataset and are dummy variables. Established democracy takes a value of 1 if the state’s

Polity score has been +6 or higher for 5 consecutive years. The same method is used for established autocracy, where the Polity score has been at -6 or below. All other states are designated as an anocracy, where the Polity score is between -5 and +5, or is in the process of transitioning from anocracy to autocracy. Three sets of results are given, each with one of the three comparison regime types omitted.

Table 2.3: Effect of democratization on UN peacekeeping personnel contributions compared to other regime types.

Year t-1 Year t-2 Year t-3 Year t-4 Year t-5 Baseline: Established democracy Democratizing state 0.407* 0.314* 0.337* 0.290† 0.234 (0.158) (0.158) (0.156) (0.173) (0.197)

Anocracy -0.082 -0.063 -0.026 -0.014 -0.014 (0.160) (0.165) (0.177) (0.183) (0.195)

Established autocracy -0.289 -0.275 -0.250 -0.242 -0.242 (0.231) (0.232) (0.235) (0.238) (0.241)

Baseline: Anocracy Democratizing state 0.431* 0.338* 0.354* 0.304* 0.247 (0.148) (0.147) (0.132) (0.151) (0.168)

Established democracy -0.037 -0.020 0.007 0.015 0.014 (0.181) (0.183) (0.187) (0.191) (0.195)

Established autocracy -0.272 -0.257 -0.234 -0.228 -0.229 (0.246) (0.247) (0.249) (0.252) (0.255)

Baseline: Established autocracy Democratizing state 0.433* 0.366* 0.458* 0.461* 0.476† (0.146) (0.149) (0.162) (0.182) (0.263)

Established democracy -0.017 0.024 0.122 0.177 0.242 (0.180) (0.184) (0.199) (0.203) (0.241)

Anocracy -0.050 -0.008 0.097 0.157 0.229 (0.164) (0.171) (0.195) (0.204) (0.255) †p £ 0.1, *p £ 0.05. Robust standard errors clustered by contributor appear in parentheses. Columns represent windows in which democratization has occurred, as in Table 2.2.

While only the coefficients for these variables are shown in Table 2.3, they reflect the estimates from the full models. The results indicate that democratizing states consistently give more personnel than established democracies, established autocracies, and anocracies, and that the difference is statistically significant in almost all cases. As with the results in

Table 2.2, the effect of being a democratizing state begins to wear off as time passes. Looking at the other results, the remaining three categories of regime type are indistinguishable from one another in terms of contribution size. This further strengthens the results from Models

1-4 to suggest that democratizing states are distinct from all other types of regime when it comes to contributing peacekeepers.

The results for the test of Hypothesis 2.2 are shown in Model 5 in Table 2.4. This test gives more clarity to the trend identified in Models 1-4, where the effect of being a new democracy on personnel contributions diminishes over time. The variable years of democracy is a count of the number of years since the country became a democracy (+6 on the Polity scale). If the state reverts to non-democracy, the count ends. Therefore, this variable measures the length of time a state has been a continuous democracy. Since this test is only interested in the behavior of states democratizing in the time period covered by this study, the sample is restricted to those sixty-nine countries, and only to the years in which they are considered democracies. All other observations are set to missing. A non-linear relationship is expected for this variable: contributions will decline over time and eventually stabilize. I therefore tests models with squared and cubed terms of years of democracy, where only the latter is shown in Table 2.4.

The results indicate that there is a polynomial relationship between years of democracy and contribution, which is graphed in Figure 2.3. Supporting the findings in

Models 1-4, initial contributions of new democracies are high, but see a moderate decline in the first few years of democracy. By the time the state is considered a consolidated democracy

(t+5), the average contribution has dropped by 38.7 per cent from 333 to 204 peacekeepers.

After ten years, the contribution hits its lowest point, having dropped by a further 7.9 per cent from the baseline to 178 peacekeepers. Beyond ten years, contributions increase again slightly before leveling off. Overall, the expected relationship is observed: new democracies reduce their contributions over time as the marginal benefit of giving peacekeepers decreases, and they fall into similar contribution patterns as states with other regime types.

Table 2.4: Effect of time since democratization on UN peacekeeping personnel contributions.

48 Figure 2.3: Effect of time since democratization on personnel contributions

What is perhaps surprising is the speed with which the decline occurs after democratization.

There are ways of interpreting this quick shift, however. First, it is possible that the initial contribution made by the state is high in order to send a resounding signal to relevant actors, after which it can sustain its reputation with smaller contributions. Second, the state may experience problems with the chosen tactic of involvement in peacekeeping, finding that it has overstretched its military, or experiencing domestic pushback to such a significant international commitment.

2.8 Robustness Tests

I conduct a number of tests to apply additional stringency to both my theoretical and empirical approaches. First, two possible alternative explanations for the results in this study are that the incentive to make large contributions relates not to transitioning to new democracy, but to all states within a certain range of Polity scores. It may be that democracy

as a regime type rather than the transition into it better explains contributions, where states that are more democratic make larger contributions (Andersson 2002; Lebovic 2004). The democratization measure would therefore merely be picking up this effect. Alternately, it could be that states clustered around the democracy threshold do make the largest contributions, but that there is no meaningful difference between a state that has crossed over into what is considered a democracy and one that is just below that threshold. To address these possibilities, I re-estimate the baseline model using the Polity scale as the main independent variable to test for a linear relationship between democracy and contributions, and a second model including its squared term (for which I rescale Polity to zero to twenty so all integers are positive) to test for a non-linear relationship where states in the mid-range of Polity make the largest contributions. Looking at Table 2.4, neither of these conjectures are confirmed. Model 6 shows that while states with a higher Polity score are more likely to participate, they do not make larger contributions than states with lower scores. Model 7 more accurately explains the relationship between Polity and participation, where a curvilinear relationship exists such that states in the middle of the polity range are more likely to send peacekeepers. However, once again, this does not impact the decision of how many to send. This lends further support to the argument that new democracies, by virtue of their recent transition, send more peacekeepers than other states.

Next, I re-estimate the original models separating the dependent variable into military (troops and observers) and police personnel. This distinction is important since a major component of my theory relates to states’ use of peacekeeping in order to suppress the threat of the military. Contribution behavior may therefore relate specifically to the military and have nothing to do with sending civilian police. The results, shown in Table 2.5, indicate that the pattern of giving more personnel than other states applies to both military personnel

and civilian police within the first four years of democratization (considering statistical significance at 90 per cent). Substantively, the effect is slightly stronger with military than police personnel. Within the first year of democratization, the state will give 51.5 per cent more military personnel and 49.2 per cent more police than other states. Within four years of democratization, the state will give 33.5 per cent more military compared with 31.0 per cent more police. These results indicate that new democracies have incentives to send both military and police personnel to peacekeeping missions, suggesting that its goal is not exclusively to deal with the military. Rather, the country may reap broader benefits from making contributions of any personnel type, such as international reputational benefits.

Further, it may seek to send military personnel in order to deal with the threat of the military, and civilian police to simply better train them and reap information that will support state-building efforts. However, the fact that new democracies send more total military personnel than police suggests that a distinct incentive to involve the military in peacekeeping cannot be discounted. In the first year of democracy, the state will send 269 troops, which is ten times the number of police it will send. This is likely not a function of having more military personnel than police, since the average citizen can enroll to become a

UN police officer with no prior police experience. Although these tests are fairly rudimentary, they do therefore give evidence that the incentive behind sending military personnel is likely stronger for democratizing states.

Finally, a number of studies has concluded that the inclusion of lagged dependent variables in time-series count models can lead to biased or erroneous results (Brandt et al.

2000; Brandt and Williams 2001; Cameron & Trivedi 2013; Fogarty and Monogan 2014).

Specifically, the lagged count variable assumes a linear exponential rate of growth and non- dynamic features in the outcome. Since these assumptions are not true of peacekeeping

contributions, the lagged count may be counterproductive to my analyses. To account for any potential bias caused by this, I re-run all models without the lagged dependent in the count equation, but keeping it in the inflation equation.5 Removing the lagged dependent variable makes very little difference to the estimates of the effect of democratization, where both the coefficients and statistical significance experience little change.

Table 2.5 Effect of democratization on contributions of military personnel and police.

Year t-1 Year t-2 Year t-3 Year t-4 Year t-5 Dependent variable:

Military personnel 0.416* 0.349* 0.337* 0.289* 0.232 (0.142) (0.141) (0.129) (0.143) (0.154)

Civilian police 0.435* 0.250* 0.187† 0.191† 0.148 (0.150) (0.123) (0.105) (0.114) (0.117) †p £ 0.1, *p £ 0.05. Robust standard errors clustered by contributor appear in parentheses. Control variables not shown.

2.9 Conclusion

As the size and scope of UN peacekeeping has grown in recent decades, an unlikely category of states with underdeveloped political institutions and comparably weaker economies has stepped up and shouldered much of the burden. Yet far from performing this role out of altruism, this study has identified that a particular subset of states, those in the early years of democracy, find in peacekeeping an ideal opportunity to strengthen domestic political institutions and reduce the risk of an authoritarian backslide. The specific mechanisms by which this activity occurs deserve much greater attention than the limits of this chapter have allowed. The complex process of democratization, which involves a fine balancing act between international and domestic pressures, suggests states may seek

5 These results are available upon request.

involvement in IOs, and peacekeeping in particular, for a number of reasons. I have offered three mechanisms – credible signaling, information provision, and socialization – stemming from two main incentives: the ability to provide public goods and the need to reduce the threat of the military.

In the next chapters, I turn to the specific argument that peacekeeping contributions serve as a means to reduce the threat posed by the military to democratic stability, and simultaneously appease domestic pressure to divert spending away from the military towards social needs. I argue that there are both short and long term benefits to this endeavor, and states often pursue particular strategic directions in their deployments that maximize the possibility of reaping these benefits. Such a use of existing international institutions could therefore have major implications for the future of global democracy.

Whatever the reasons behind contributions of new democracies, the finding that this subset of states is the largest contributor to UN peacekeeping also offers important insights for the efficacy the UN’s endeavor. The role that was once the remit of militaries from wealthy, established democracies has largely been undertaken by poorer countries with inferior military training and lack of experience in taking a back seat to a democratic government. The provision of funding and equipment by established democracies is no substitute for having democratic peacekeepers on the ground working to implement peace agreements, overseeing elections, and training local police and soldiers. While recent contribution trends offer benefits for the sending state in terms of domestic political stabilization, they may simultaneously hamper the effectiveness of missions in promoting peace. These are concerns of which the UN is very much aware, and how it chooses to incorporate a growing number of less politically and economically developed countries into

UN peacekeeping may determine the very future of the enterprise itself.

CHAPTER 3

PLACATING THE PEACEKEEPERS: SHORT-TERM BENEFITS OF CONTRIBUTING MILITARY PERSONNEL TO UN PEACEKEEPING MISSIONS

3.1 Introduction

The presidential elections of 2000 marked the end of ten months of military rule in

Côte d’Ivoire. General Robert Guéï, a decorated military leader and former chief of staff of the army under President Houphouët-Boigny, had come to power through a bloodless coup d’état on Christmas Eve in 1999, amid fomenting unrest within the military. Willing to cede to the democratic process, Guéï ran in the 2000 election against National Assembly member

Laurent Gbagbo, who was the only opposition candidate allowed after Guéï banned former president Henri Konan Bédié and former prime minister Alassane Ouattara from participation. Despite these restrictions, the election marked a major step towards democracy for the country. Houphouët-Boigny had led the country since its independence in 1960, and despite being relatively popular and contributing to Côte d’Ivoire’s economic development, oversaw a system that was far from democratic. Five subsequent years under Bédié, who assumed the presidency after Houphouët-Boigny’s death in 1993, offered little change. The

2000 election therefore opened the door to a democratic future for Côte d’Ivoire. The optimism of impending democracy was short-lived, however, when Guéï refused to accept that Gbagbo

had won the popular vote, despite the election being monitored by observers from the

European Union and Libya. Local and municipal elections followed in 2001 and 2002, but continued violent clashes between the two sides’ supporters overshadowed the hope of democratic transition. In September 2002, Guéï instigated a rebellion consisting of soldiers from his former regime, who feared their impending demobilization under the Gbagbo government. Although Guéï was killed in the uprising, the rebels were able to consolidate their position and assume control of the northern half of the country, operating under the political umbrella known as the Patriotic Movement of Côte d’Ivoire (MPCI). The violence soon descended into civil war, which would last until the signing of the Ouagadougou

Agreement in 2007. Côte d’Ivoire’s brief foray into democratic governance would never fully materialize.

The problems faced by Côte d’Ivoire are, unfortunately, all too common. While well- intentioned leaders hope to guide the country into a stable democratic system, the reality is that impending problems regularly threaten such a transition. As with Côte d’Ivoire, this is commonly attributed to the military, which suffers a perceived loss of status, purpose, and sustenance during a democratic transition, and takes advantage of the weak institutional capacity of a fledgling democracy to wrest control, or at least significant power, back for itself.

While in the case of Côte d’Ivoire the Gbagbo government did not fully collapse, the ongoing civil war and subsequent undemocratic strategies of Gbagbo to address the crisis gave democracy little chance of taking root.

Building on the findings in the previous chapter, this and the subsequent two chapters consider how involving the military in UN peacekeeping service can enhance the prospects of democracy in transitioning states. Incorporating the military into a civilian-led political order has repeatedly proved challenging for new democracies, evidenced by the frequent

breakdown of democratic systems at the hands of an intervening military. I argue that newly democratic governments can derive a variety of benefits from sending troops to UN peacekeeping missions that address both the short-term antipathy of the military and its long-term incongruence with a stable democratic polity. In this chapter, I focus on the short- term benefits of peacekeeping contributions. First, offering peacekeeping deployment serves as a credible commitment to the military that it will be kept active and have a distinct purpose, rather than being decommissioned or punished for past ills. It was these fears in

Côte d’Ivoire that enabled Guéï to rally support for a rebellion in 2002. Second, peacekeeping activity not only offers an unlimited future role for the military, but also provides financial benefits for both the individual soldier and the military through UN reimbursements for participation. As government funds are diverted away from the military and towards public spending in a newly democratic system, UN remuneration for peacekeeping offers a stable

(and often quite lucrative) income for an individual soldier, while also supplementing the national military budget. Moreover, it typically serves as a source of pride and experience for a soldier, who gets to see new places, serve alongside esteemed militaries, and contribute to the global goods of peace and security. Finally, peacekeeping deployments remove large contingents of the military from the public sphere at home and reorients its focus to non- domestic matters, allowing the government to strengthen civilian institutions and conduct matters unencumbered by the military.

After developing my argument within the context of civil-military relations theory and existing literature, I supplement my discussion with quantitative empirical analysis.

Specifically, I test the arguments that new democracy contributions to UNPKOs are driven by greater perceived domestic threats from the military, and a subsequent desire to placate the military and stave off short-term threats to political stability. As such, greater

contributions should come from states where there is a stronger military legacy and where there are greater economic benefits to the military from serving. Peacekeeping participation should therefore prevent major perturbations to military capacity, particularly in terms of its budget. These solutions to the short-term problems induced by democratization should thereby result in a military that is less likely to instigate a coup in the early years of democratization, since its perception of threatened status will be mitigated by peacekeeping involvement.

The discussion in this chapter contributes to an underdeveloped literature on the impact of democratization on civil-military relations, particularly in relation to military economics. While a number of prominent studies considers the integration of the military into a democratic order (e.g. Finer 1962; Huntington 1957; Janowitz 1960), much remains to be learned about the interaction between the military and civil institutions during and immediately after the transition, and the means by which the state can fend off immediate threats to its control stemming from the military. A second contribution is to the understanding of military contributions to peacekeeping operations. A limited number of studies considers civil-military relations as a motivation for contributions, mostly consisting of case studies with diverse conclusions. Only two studies known to this author quantitatively assess the role of peacekeeping remunerations in civil-military relations (Levin et al. 2016;

Lundgren 2018). I contribute to this literature by investigating the extent to which financial payment is a central incentive for states and militaries to participate, as well as how such payments affect military economic interests.

3.2 The Civil-Military Nexus

Militaries have a long and storied history of involvement in domestic politics. In recent decades this influence has frequently manifested as a struggle for power between the military establishment and civilian elites. And while this problem has often been characterized as outdated – a 1960s artifact – a recent spate of attempted or successful military coups in countries such as Mali, Mauritania, Guinea, and Niger affirms that the civil-military antagonism that exists within polities is not a thing of the past. One count finds that between

1945 and 2000, there were 432 coup attempts globally, over half of which were successful

(Belkin & Schofer 2003: 596). Using data from Powell and Thyne (2011), Figure 3.1 plots the incidence of failed and successful coups since 1950. Many of these can be attributed to a wave of independence in the 1960s and 1970s as colonial powers relinquished control of their territorial possessions. As these newly-independent states sought to establish their own governments, weak institutions and poor economic growth gave opportunity to the military establishment to seize control by force. This trend continued through the early 1990s as power bounced back and forth between the military and civilian governments. A study by the

African Development Bank finds that Sub-Saharan Africa alone has seen over 200 coup attempts since the 1960s, half of which took place between 1970 and 1989 (Barka & Ncube

2012). The same study reports that of 51 African countries sampled, only ten have never experienced a coup (failed or successful). Meanwhile, 80% have had at least one, while 61% have experienced multiple (ranging from two to ten). The period from 1990 to 2010 saw a slight reduction in African coup activity, with 67 reported incidents (Ndaba 2015), a reduction of roughly one third from the tally of the previous two decades. During this period, around half of all Sub-Saharan African countries were coup-free (Barka & Ncube 2012). However, this modest decline, combined with the fact that there have been 110 attempted or realized

coups worldwide since 1990, and 27 in the decade from 2006 to 2016 (Powell & Thyne 2011), suggest that military interventions are not invariably disappearing.

Figure 3.1: Global Incidence of Coups, 1950-2016

How, then, does one explain why military interventions in politics appear to be a thing of the past in some countries, while others continue to experience that risk? How have certain governments seemingly found a way to gain control of the military, or at least, to minimize its threat of interference? Several prominent arguments point towards international factors, such as the absence of Cold War antagonisms that saw the involvement of major powers in the domestic uprisings of developing countries, or the role of international institutions that threaten member states with suspension or sanctions if unconstitutional changes of power occur (Shannon et al. 2015). Such language has become particularly common with institutions like the African Union and ECOWAS. However, the first of these arguments fails

to explain why so many coups have taken place since the Cold War ended, and the latter argument does not convincingly explain why would-be military governments would care about losing international privilege or prestige. Other arguments look inward, pointing towards economic development as a politically stabilizing factor (Przeworski et al. 2000), as well as a growing desire for democracy in such countries – a sense that democracy should be the only game in town (Ntomba 2015).

However, all of the above arguments fail to identify the specific mechanisms through which the government is able to subdue threats from the military. To better address this, one would need to focus on the specific interactions of the various actors involved. Yet, the study of civil-military relations with regard to coups is at best incomplete and at worst rather sparse. This is particularly true when incorporating the process of democratization in those countries (Bruneau and Matei 2008: 909-10). What these actors want, how they interact to pursue those preferences, and what this looks like during a transitional process requires much attention. By understanding the relationship between and among three groups – the military, civilian elites, and the domestic public – greater insight would be gained into why and how military coups do or do not occur.

Optimistic assessments of this question suggest that the military is relatively restrained, and ultimately benevolent, when it comes to intervention. In newly-independent states emerging from colonialism, civil society and political institutions were typically weak.

In contrast, the military, which often had decades of experience and professionalization, would have the institutional strength, organizational experience, and technology to play a leading role in modernizing those states (Gandhi 2008: 27-28). In this way, the military came to see itself as something of a guardian of the national interest, where interventions in politics were deemed a duty in order to stabilize the country. Military coups were therefore

often welcomed, and typically short-lived before power was turned over to a newly-formed civilian government. In short, the military intervened not for its own interest, but for that of the country. Yet the negative impact of military interventions in multiple cases has tarnished this image of the “praetorian guard”. Aside from the atrocities committed in such cases, it also became apparent that the national interest purported by the military to justify its intervention was largely a cover for more self-serving interests. Much of the existing literature on military coups in fact suggests that interventions are largely conducted for the sake of the corporate interests of the military, or those of its individual soldiers (Finer 1976;

Nordlinger 1977; Needler 1987).

That militaries ever refrain from political intervention therefore requires explanation.

Most obviously, the government can shape the military’s preferences through offering it incentives to keep its distance. This has been a common practice in civilian-run autocratic regimes. While the leaders prefer to have a strong military in order to quell any potential uprising from society, having a stronger military only increases the threat to the leaders’ own power. With disbanding the military being an unlikely option, the leaders will instead choose to offer concessions to the military to reduce the threat of a coup, most often in the form of financial payments and a bloated budget (Acemoglu et al. 2010: 2). Since the government has a much smaller selectorate to which it is accountable, it can do this at the expense of spending on public goods with little backlash. These governments will, of course, undertake public spending where possible in order to avoid significant opposition, or to foment nationalism or other forms of ideological solidarity. However, since these programs, such as education and social security, tend to have longer-term payoffs and do not pay immediate dividends for the regime, the rulers will almost certainly tend to the more immediate threat of the military than to social needs. As Gandhi (2008, 112) states:

“Social spending may yield important benefits, but these investments will not be made at the expense of protecting their power – even by the most benevolent of dictators. On balance, then, we can expect that in the trade-off between spending on military resources and personnel versus other social programs that benefit the civilian population, authoritarian leaders will choose to allocate more resources to the armed forces.”

The occurrence of a military coup is therefore most likely when the military has the incentive to do so: to restore stability, from fear of reform by the government, or simply to achieve greater power and wealth than it possesses under the current regime. But in addition to incentive, the military also needs an opportunity to take action if it wants to be successful in its endeavor. While a successful coup may be feasible in a multitude of situations, it is most likely to occur when, “[C]ivilian regimes…suffer from a significant legitimacy deficit – that is, if they have not solved the problems plaguing the country to the satisfaction not only of the soldiers, but the general citizenry and vital elite group as well” (Finer 1976 in

Sundhaussen 1998). The military will also choose to intervene only where it perceives it will be able to consolidate its power thereafter, which is typically hard to do for a de facto government. Rouquié (1986: 110) asserts that, “If elected governments have legitimacy by virtue of their origin, de facto governments have legitimacy only by the way they exercise power, and almost, one might say, by the performance they ultimately accomplish.” If the military seeks to gain popular support for its coup, and to hold power for any amount of time, it must therefore consider its prospects once the takeover has been achieved.

3.3 The Military and Democratization

Transition to democracy often provides both the incentive and the opportunity required for the military to seek power. This is particularly the case where that country has a strong military legacy. Cheibub (2007: 140) reports that democracies are 70% more likely to fail when they follow a military dictatorship than a civilian one, the former having an

average life of 20 years compared with 90 years for the latter. Furthermore, he states that all countries that have experienced more than one breakdown of democracy did so at the hands of the military.

Leaders of new democracies face a number of unique challenges when compared with their autocratic counterparts. While a civilian dictator must worry about only one major internal threat – the military – a democratic government must find a way to placate both the military and the public. Since such countries’ capacity is often restricted, this can be a challenge often too difficult to overcome. Writes Sundhaussen (1998: 340): “[U]sually governments of new states lack the integrative capacity to solve all of these problems at once, with the result that armed or unarmed strong-men seize power in the belief that democratic processes are too slow to produce satisfactory results.” Oftentimes, seeking to satisfy one group will be to the detriment of the other. For example, broad social spending that is expected with democracy will likely come at the expense of military expenditure. As

O’Donnell and Schmitter (1986: 35-36) argue:

“The transitional regime and the eventual nascent democracy will also have to deal with the sensitive issue of military expenditures. During and immediately following the transition, there will be many competing claims for public funds and a generalized revulsion against materially rewarding the armed forces for what many are bound to feel is the mess they have made of civic life. …It may even be tempting to disarm them or, at least, to scale down their salaries, perquisites, and equipment, but this…may trigger a violent reaction.”

Moreover, democratic governments are typically unable to placate the military in the same way as civilian autocrats. Firstly, and as discussed previously, autocratic leaders can credibly commit to keeping the military around, since they need it to ward off any threat of a popular uprising. The military therefore has little fear of reform or disbandment, and can be easily satisfied with monetary concessions. In democracies, however, strong militaries are not needed to quell domestic unrest (or, at least, maintaining that option is likely to hamper

any chance of gaining popular legitimacy). Only if there are significant threats to national security can the democratic government justify a strong military, and credibly commit to maintaining it. Knowing this, the military will anticipate reform, and subsequently become difficult to bring under the government’s control. Instead, the military will seek to be as involved as possible in the transition in order to ensure it gets a good deal in the process, which may ultimately prevent true democracy from forming at all. Indeed, the very reason for democratization may be that a military coup took place, giving the military a central role in negotiating the transition (Thyne & Powell 2014). Democracies may be able to offer short- term concessions to satisfy the military (O’Donnell & Schmitter 1986: 36), but cannot credibly commit to not reforming the military in the long term. Acemoglu et al.’s (2010) formal theory addresses this problem for newly-democratic governments, finding that such long-term concessions are only likely where national security threats are sufficiently high, thereby justifying the sustenance of the military. However, if it is true that reduced threats to security are prerequisite to democracy (Gibler & Tir 2014), such a situation may not be likely to exist.

It is this problem that forms the basis of my argument. The consolidation of democracy, and particularly in the presence of a military legacy, requires a credible commitment to the military that it will not be weakened, punished, or decommissioned. Yet a similar commitment must be made to the domestic public that the military is not a threat to stability and such things as political and civil freedoms and government-provided goods.

Without both of these outcomes, democracy is unlikely to last long in that country.

Transitional democracies therefore face a unique challenge in establishing stable institutions and broad legitimacy. In the argument below, I suggest that involvement in UN peacekeeping operations may provide just such a way to placate both the public and the military.

3.4 Peacekeeping and the Military

This study contributes to an emerging, but rather sparse, literature that considers domestic political motivations for contributing to UN peacekeeping operations, and their subsequent effects. These explanations relate largely to civil-military relations, with the exception of a number of studies that explain state contributions as a money-making venture.

Concerning civil-military relations, a small number of studies has approached peacekeeping contributions as a desire by the government to reduce the threat of the military, either through removing it from domestic politics and reorienting its focus, or in an attempt to socialize it away from violent, anti-democratic, or interventionist proclivities. Kathman and

Melin (2017) offer the first cross-national study in this area and find that states with a recent experience of a failed coup make larger contributions of peacekeepers in an attempt to stave off future coup activity. However, this study does not consider the regime type of the government, nor the present capacity of the military, both of which likely moderate the relationship between coup history and contributions. A more extensive literature concerns the effects of peacekeeping deployments on the military’s role in society. Research has reached mixed conclusions on this question, where some point to the positive effect of peacekeeping service, while others are less optimistic. Early theoretical contributions such as Huntington (1957) and Moskos (1975) point to the socializing effect of serving in peacekeeping missions, where soldiers adopt a “constabulary ethic” and become subordinate to a civilian regime at home. Others consider the more immediate benefits of deployments, such as removing the military from the political sphere (Findlay 1996), yet maintaining sufficient force to deal with an external security threat (Kathman and Melin 2017). Using quantitative cross-national evidence, Lundgren (2018) finds that deployments can reduce domestic coup activity, but only where heavy dependence on UN remunerations sufficiently

deters such behavior by the military. Case studies conducted by Norden (1995) and Worboys

(2007) argue that significant pro-democratic institutional reform of the military occurred in

Argentina after regular commitments to peacekeeping deployment. Zaman and Biswas

(2014) similarly find that the involvement of Bangladesh’s military has significantly reduced its likelihood of interfering in domestic politics.

However, other studies suggest that peacekeeping deployment may not only be ineffective at reforming the military, but may cause it to become more of a threat to domestic stability. Savage and Caverley (2014) use quantitative evidence to argue that larger troop contributions increase the occurrence of destabilizing political events. Levin et al. (2016) use evidence from Fiji and Bangladesh to argue that the resources and experiences gained by the military embolden it and increase both its ability and desire to interfere in domestic politics.

Dwyer (2015) argues that, rather than emboldening the military, peacekeeping service uncovers material grievances among soldiers who are then more likely to stage a mutiny at home. This is particularly likely if soldiers perceive that peacekeepers from other countries receive more material benefits for doing the same job.

While later chapters address the socializing (Chapter 4) and professionalizing

(Chapter 5) effects of peacekeeping on the military, this chapter is concerned with the short- term effects participation can have on the military as individuals, as an institution, and in its relationship with the civilian government. This chapter therefore makes a number of important contributions. It broadens the existing literature on democratization with a focus on civil-military relations to consider international factors. The existing democratization literature concerning civil-military relations is restricted in scope to relations between those two actors, whereas I incorporate actors, motivations, and effects from the international environment. Those studies that do address the international factors that influence

democratization do not address changes in civil-military relations as a part of the process, but rather focus on factors such as democracy contagion (Gleditsch and Ward 2006; Kadera et al. 2003), territorial rivalries (Gibler and Tir 2010, 2014) or the role of international organizations in tying the hands of leaders and providing capacity-building expertise

(Pevehouse 2002a, 2002b; Poast and Urpelainen 2015), where the democratizing state is generally considered a unitary actor. This study therefore intersects these literatures, addressing both civil-military relations and international factors in a theory of democratization.

Second, this study offers a theory of democratization that unifies various mechanisms proposed in the current literature and presents empirical testing of each. Where studies separately argue that the state is motivated by a desire to remove the military from politics, to receive UN money to cover military or domestic costs, to prevent future coups, or to socialize the military more generally, I argue that all of these mechanisms may co-exist for states and I subsequently provide evidence by assessing states’ strategic deployment decisions under a number of conditions.

Fourth, the research makes an important contribution to the robust and disparate literature on peacekeeping contributions. Despite the myriad attempts, debate continues as to why developing countries have become the most significant contributors of peacekeepers since the Cold War ended. I offer a robust theory that, while not applicable to every state, goes a long way in explaining this trend. Finally, the study bolsters the existing research on civil-military relations in peacekeeping activity by offering rigorous quantitative analysis.

Most existing studies in this area are restricted to case studies, which encounter too many variables to be generalizable. Moreover, these case studies tend to trace different causal

processes. I therefore add to the dearth of systematic large-n studies on this subject

(Kathman and Melin 2017; Lundgren 2018; Savage and Caverley 2014).

3.5 Placating the Military

The most immediate incentive for democratizing states to send military personnel to

UNPKOs is to create short-term stability and prevent the military’s opposition to the new regime. With this under way, the state will then hope to reorient the mentality of the military towards liberal democracy in the long term, which will be the focus of Chapters 4 and 5. In the immediate term, transition to democracy is a destabilizing event for the military that has three negative externalities: the threat of lost revenues, the loss of political power and influence, and the loss of purpose. Contributing troops to UN peacekeeping operations is a means to overcome these challenges and reduce the risk of democratic instability through military interference or outright insurrection.

3.5.1 Swords into Ploughshares

Peacekeeping can serve as an important source of revenue for a democratizing state and its military. In a new democracy, expectation of economic performance is high, as is demand for broad public spending programs. This will be particularly true in relatively poorer countries, as the newly enfranchised population can wield more accountability over the government and push for extensive redistribution of wealth and economic development.

Such demands include greater spending on education, welfare programs, healthcare, social security, and infrastructure, as well as economic reform to pursue sustained growth, such as trade and capital openness. This increased demand for public spending creates pressure for the government to reduce spending elsewhere. Since militaries under autocratic systems

receive disproportionate economic benefits – either through side-payments from the civilian government or controlling the purse itself during a military dictatorship – they are an obvious target for redirecting funds. Sustained high revenues to the military will be met with opposition by the public, unless a significant threat to national security exists, since the spending will be seen as frivolous and an anachronism from the autocratic past. If the military was complicit in repression or seen as contributing to political corruption in the previous regime, the public would further seek for it to be tamed – if not outright punished – by reducing its capacity. The failure to stimulate economic growth, meet essential public needs, and reduce support of the military will therefore pose a significant threat to democratic survival.

Yet reducing revenues for the armed forces will simultaneously generate opposition from the military and increases the risk of a coup. The military’s leaders, balking at the reduction in resources, will have little trouble rallying support for rebellion from troops who face unemployment and in many instances have little ability to transition to civilian professions after being career soldiers. Argentina, which has since become a global flag- bearer of UN peacekeeping, once served as an example of this problem. Upon democratization in 1983, new president Raúl Alfonsín took on the onerous task of constraining a military that had dictated the political terms of the country for decades. This coincided with rampant inequality and severe economic crisis that threatened democracy from the outset. Rather than reorient the military to a new, pro-democratic role in society, Alfonsín’s strategy was to reduce the military’s capacity and punish it for past ills. As part of this agenda, military expenditure was cut by 38% from 1983 to 1984 (Tedesco 1996, 25). This contributed to growing tensions within the military that culminated in several subsequent rebellions

(Norden 1995, 4). While the democratic government would survive this unrest, the military’s

indignation and the persistent economic crisis certainly threw this into doubt. Figure 3.2 shows the rapid drop off in military expenditure after the 1983 transition, which then saw a similarly sharp increase once Argentina became a major contributor to UN peacekeeping in the early 1990s.

Figure 3.2: Argentina’s military expenditure, 1975-2000

Reducing military spending is certainly not the only option the government has. It might also turn to taxation or other redistributive policies, or to foreign development aid as sources of income to fund public spending. However, both of these options are problematic.

Taxation and redistributive policies such as land reform may be an effective – if unpopular – option if economic inequality is low. However, where there is higher inequality, these steps will disproportionately hurt the wealthy elite, who undoubtedly enjoyed more unrestrained economic freedom under the autocratic government. Democratic governments cannot credibly commit to not taxing the rich heavily, which therefore increases the incentive for the elite to instigate a coup (Acemoglu and Robinson 2001). Coups such as those in Brazil in 1964, Chile

in 1973, and Guatemala in 1954 have all been explained as a response to planned redistributive reform by the government (Acemoglu and Robinson 2001, 953). In this scenario, the military is again the likely agent of coup activity, having been recruited by the elite with the promise of wealth and status in a new regime.

The state may rely on foreign development aid, which is often forthcoming in economically struggling new democracies. However, evidence is mixed as to whether or not foreign aid will facilitate democratic consolidation. Some have found it to be beneficial

(Morrison 2009; Dutta et al 2013), where others suggest its positive effect on strengthening democracy is only marginal (Goldsmith 2001). Those on the opposite side argue it has no effect (Dunning 2004; Bearce and Tirone 2010; Altincekic and Bearce 2014), or even a negative impact, the so-called “political aid curse” (Easterly 2006; Collier and Dollar 2002;

Djankov et al. 2008). The expectation and use of foreign development aid is therefore not an obvious solution to a new democracy’s resource distribution dilemma.

The state must therefore find a way to both fulfill the promise of democracy for the people by diverting non-essential expenditures to public matters and stimulating economic growth, while placating the military as it sees impending diminished income. It can do this by seeking alternative revenue streams for the military, the most prominent of which in recent decades has been peacekeeping. For some countries, peacekeeping revenues comprise a significant portion of its military expenditure. For example, between 2002 and 2011, Ghana earned an annual average of 43.6% of its military expenses through peacekeeping. Nepal earned 20% over the same period and Rwanda brought in 47.3% from 2006 to 2011 (Cunliffe

2013, 172). While there is much variation in this figure across contributing countries, there is no question that it has significantly benefited a number of governments and militaries.

Unlike most non-UN peacekeeping operations, the UN reimburses contributing countries for both peacekeepers and equipment. As of July 2018, the contributor is reimbursed at a rate of $1,428 per soldier per month. Payment to the peacekeeper is then performed by the state, typically in accordance with their national salary scale (United

Nations 2018b). In the case of wealthier countries, this explains why few or no peacekeepers are ever contributed: the cost of doing so far outweighs the financial benefit. Gaibulloev et al.

(2015) report that the annual cost per peacekeeper for countries like the United States,

France, Canada, and Italy exceeds $100,000, leaving a significant cost after the $17,136 is recouped from the UN. However, for many poorer countries, peacekeeper contributions can result in a net financial benefit. Studies have found this to be true for countries like

Bangladesh, Nepal, and Sri Lanka. Avezov (2014, 266) reports that Sri Lanka received $142 million in UN payments from 2004 to 2014, but used only $95 million to pay the actual peacekeepers, using the remainder to purchase new equipment, train new peacekeepers, and support broader economic initiatives. While it is possible that the UN remunerations might be used for the nation’s general budget, this is only likely where the military has been sufficiently tended to first. The government would hardly risk destabilizing the situation it has worked to achieve by using the money earned by the military for any other purposes. In

Bangladesh and Nepal, any surplus after paying peacekeepers and buying new equipment goes to providing veteran and troop welfare programs, or otherwise bolstering the defense budget (266). Levin et al. (2016) and Zaman and Biswas (2014) both corroborate that the military is the primary beneficiary of peacekeeping remunerations.

The dominant narrative posits, rather narrowly, that general financial income is the primary reason for the shift to developing countries in peacekeeping contributions in recent decades. The conjecture is made that since so many such countries have become heavily

involved in making peacekeeper contributions, and they are relatively poor with a comparative advantage in labor, they must be driven primarily by such mercenary considerations. This creates a potential challenge to my argument, since the income would be sought for more general domestic purposes than as a way to placate the military specifically. It would also challenge the argument that there is a unique incentive for new democracies over other states to make larger contributions. This argument is supported by

Victor (2010) and Bove and Elia (2011), who find a negative relationship between a country’s

GDP per capita and the size of troop contributions to peacekeeping: poorer countries appear to make larger deployments. However, neither study accounts for democratization in the models, nor any measures of political institutions more broadly (Victor only includes a measure of political repression taken from the Freedom House index). Table 3.1 below shows how controlling for democratization attenuates the effect of GDP per capita on contributions.6

In Model 1, which omits democratization, GDP per capita is negative and significant in the second stage of the model, as found in the other studies. However, when democratization is included in Model 2, the coefficient for GDP per capita is no longer statistically significant.

While different model specifications may yield different results (these tests are not a true replication of the two studies mentioned), it gives evidence that the relationship between

GDP per capita and peacekeeping contributions may at best be weaker than thought, and at worst may be purely spurious. Indeed, the effect is found to be highly sensitive to model specification in Bove and Elia (2011). The outcome is similar for Gaibulloev et al. (2015), who obtain results showing either a positive or negative relationship, with only a sporadic

6 All variables, as well as the ZINB modeling choice, are those found in Chapter 2. The only difference is the use of military personnel only as the dependent variable, thus excluding civilian police. I do this to offer comparable tests to Victor (2010) and Bove and Elia (2011), who only test the effect on military contributions.

occurrence of statistical significance across their models. Others, such as Blum (2000) find no relationship between GDP per capita and peacekeeping contributions.

Table 3.1: Effect of GDP per capita and democratization on UN peacekeeping military contributions using a zero-inflated negative binomial regression.

To reiterate, this is not to suggest that financial gain plays no role in peacekeeping contributions. Indeed, the very argument in this chapter is that governments are driven to contribute by the need for income. What is more likely in observing the mixed results is that:

(1) financial income is only one of a number of motivations for contributing peacekeepers, and

(2) the relationship between income and contributions requires more nuanced empirical consideration, where a state’s motivation is driven by more than its degree of wealth, and instead by the need to supplement the military budget as it redirects funds to social spending.

The first of these two conjectures, which will be substantiated by the remainder of this chapter and the following two, is supported by several observations. First, peacekeeping income often only comprises a small proportion of the country’s military expenditure, and a much smaller amount of its overall GDP. While income may be close to 50% of the defense budget for countries like Ghana and Rwanda, major contributors such as Pakistan (2%),

Uruguay (3-5%), and Nigeria (2-6%) bring in much smaller proportions. It therefore seems unlikely that states would consider peacekeeping as a major source of income. Moreover, if pure financial gain was the motivation for contributions, some countries would likely give significantly more peacekeepers than they do. Figure 3.3 shows the average peacekeeping deployment of the top ten troop contributors from 1992 to 2011 as a proportion of their standing military capacity. These numbers are somewhat understated, since the rotation of troops means there is one deployed peacekeeper for every two at home either preparing for deployment or recovering from a prior deployment. However, they still clearly indicate that countries do not offer optimal contributions if financial gain was the only incentive for doing so, and that there is variation between countries that requires an alternative explanation.

Another reason to question the argument that financial gains alone explain developing state contributions is that UN remunerations are often slow in arriving, and sometimes do not arrive at all (Findlay 1996, 9; Dwyer 2015). Major contributors like Rwanda and Fiji are among the countries that have either had to reduce their commitment or threaten to do so unless reimbursements are more forthcoming (Jowell 2018; Steele 1980). The vast increase in demand for peacekeeping in recent decades has placed increasing strain on UN

resources, as member states fail to pay their assessed contributions in a timely manner, if at all. In October 2016, it was reported that arrears owed by states to the peacekeeping general budget totaled $3.43 billion, 44% of the total 2016-2017 budget (United Nations 2016). While it is still a well-funded outfit, this shortfall inevitably results in delayed or missing payments to contributing countries. The problem is not widespread enough to deter developing countries from sending large military contingents to missions, but does signal that they may require additional incentives to offset the potential loss of income from underpayment.

Figure 3.3: Average proportion of standing armed forces deployed as peacekeepers for the top ten contributors from 1992-2011 (ordered from the largest contributor on the left).

Moving on to the second point, it is therefore likely that the relationship between financial incentives and peacekeeping contributions has been too crudely conceived. Merely considering a country’s per capita GDP overlooks the many nuances present. As I argued above, a relatively poor state will benefit minimally from contributing to peacekeeping unless it has a military that must be sustained. Moreover, in non-democracies, the military is

unlikely to opt for peacekeeping since it enjoys political power or privilege at home, it can be resourced by an autocratic regime without public backlash, and its orientation is not compatible with the internationalist principles of the UN. While a handful of autocracies are major peacekeeping contributors, Chapter 2 illustrated that this group of states gives the least of all. The relationship between domestic economics and peacekeeping contributions therefore must account for demand for redirecting public funding away from a relatively strong military, a phenomenon that is most evident in new democracies. This will be tested in various ways in the later empirical analysis.

3.5.2 Taking a Back Seat

Finding ways to supplement the military budget during a democratic transition is not the only problem a new democracy faces. Militaries during a democratic transition also experience a loss of social and political influence and status, which, if not assuaged, can similarly ignite tensions and increase the likelihood of an intervention or coup. This is made more likely by the inherently weak institutions typical of a new democracy. Financial benefits from peacekeeping may not be sufficient to keep the military from interfering in politics if such activity has been a part of its role in previous years. The government must therefore find additional means to remove the military from the immediate political sphere while its own civilian institutions are developed.

Peacekeeping participation satisfies this in the short-term, since it results in altogether removing large segments of the military from the country and diverting its leaders’ attention towards these external tasks (Andrzejewski 1954; Findlay 1996; Worboys 2007).

This has come to be known as the “diversionary peace” in the peacekeeping literature, where domestic stability can be promoted through the absence of a politicized military. This has

been identified as one of the key motivations for Bangladesh, one of the largest peacekeeping contributors. Krishnasamy (2010, 39) states that making such deployments “keeps the military from meddling in domestic affairs and reduces the chances of a military coup.” It may be argued that the small contribution size of most such countries would render any such diversion effect useless against the military’s overall desire to intervene. While it is true that many countries, including Pakistan and Bangladesh, only give small proportions of their militaries, the discussion above suggests that many more are involved, either anticipating future service or recovering from prior service. The diversion caused by peacekeeping is therefore much more significant than the raw deployment numbers suggest.

3.5.3 Pugno, Ergo Sum

Similarly to removing a politically-oriented military from domestic politics, the civilian government must also address the military’s crisis of purpose as its role at home and abroad shifts in accordance with a democratic society. The domestic role of the military as an enforcer of the law or defender against threats, whether internal or external, is usually severely restricted in a democracy. The very fact that democratic transition has occurred implies that few threats to national security persist (Gibler & Tir 2010, 2014; Gleditsch and

Ward 2006; Thompson 1996), and democracies face pressures to remove the military from societal roles typically reserved for police and other civilian institutions. Increased accountability for civil and human rights violations will play a role in this transition, where democratic civil society will be difficult to cultivate if experiences of suppression or violence at the hands of the military are allowed to persist. Worboys (2007, 160) refers to this conundrum as finding the military a new “mission” (as opposed to its longer term socialization and professionalization, where it gains a new “mentality”).

Although peacekeeping may require drastically different tasks of military personnel, it is a means for the organization to persist, maintain a clear purpose, protect internal bonds, and give its personnel an overall sense of duty, capacity, and fulfillment. As Bellamy and

Williams (2013, 17) state: “Peacekeeping provides the rationale for a number of militaries that otherwise have no raison d’être. In such cases as Argentina, Ireland, and Japan, peacekeeping serves as a form of insurance for post-Cold War militarism.” Norden (1995) discusses how it can even increase unity between the government and military as it did in

Argentina: “The military’s participation in peacekeeping allowed the armed forces to become a valuable player in the governments foreign policy, bringing praise and recognition, where they had previously found disdain” (11).

Beneath the institutional level, peacekeeping participation can also have important short-term effects on individual soldiers. Those who might fear the personal consequences of a democratic transition, such as being out of work with few transferable skills, see peacekeeping as a prestigious opportunity to gain experience, income, and reputation.

Peacekeepers travel to new places, something not common to many developing countries’ soldiers. They are also given training that likely exceeds what they have learned at home, serve alongside more professional and experienced soldiers, and even receive new equipment

(Zaman and Biswas 2014, 330). Beyond this, Being a peacekeeper also allows a soldier to use their skills in a publicly accepted and internationally respected role (Norden 1995, 8). The personal enticement offered by peacekeeping service therefore further ameliorates discontent within the military during a democratic transition.

There are therefore a number of short-term benefits that result from sending military personnel to peacekeeping missions during the early years of democracy. By receiving

financial payments, the military’s budget can be subsidized and individual soldiers paid, while government funds can be diverted to other social needs. The military is also removed from the political sphere, reducing its likelihood of interfering while civilian institutions are strengthened. Lastly, the military is given a new purpose that prevents a backlash against the government driven by displacement or obsolescence. Given these assumptions, the incentive to contribute should be driven by the perceived economic benefit of doing so, and will be further boosted where the military enjoyed greater status prior to the democratic transition or otherwise appears to pose a greater threat to political stability.

3.6 Statistical Analyses

To complement the above arguments, I conduct a number of statistical tests. First, I investigate whether the military legacy within a new democracy drives it to make larger contributions of personnel. Measures of military legacy include recent experience of a coup, the size of the military in terms of personnel, and the size of military expenditure. A greater military legacy would require a larger commitment to peacekeeping in order to sufficiently placate the military and instill confidence that no future coup activity is likely.

Second, I test the theory that new democracies’ desire for financial dividends incentivizes them to contribute peacekeepers to UN missions by comparing deployments against those to non-UN missions, which typically do not pay for a soldier’s service. If the incentive of the state is simply to divert the military’s attention from domestic politics, or to give it a sustained purpose and objectives, it should be less discriminating in its choice of peacekeeping missions – any and all would serve this purpose.

Third, I test the nuances of this relationship to bring clarity to the existing literature on economic incentives for peacekeeping contributions. Specifically, I incorporate the civil-

military relationship to create more valid empirical tests and illustrate how the pursuit of financial gain through peacekeeping contributions is of specific benefit to new democracies, challenging the idea that peacekeeping involvement is simply a tool for poor countries to increase their wealth. To do this, I test the argument that peacekeeping remuneration is primarily sought as a means to sustain the military budget post-democratization.

3.6.1 Military Legacy and Peacekeeping Contributions

While Chapter 2 identified that new democracies have a stronger tendency to make large peacekeeping contributions than other types of state, there are multiple possible reasons they might do this. If civil-military relations are indeed a strong incentive for states to make these contributions, one would expect to see the effect on contributions amplified where the new state perceives a greater risk from the military. This risk might take two forms: either fear of intervention due to past experience of a coup in the country, or when the military had a high capacity before the transition. If the country has more recently experienced a coup, it may perceive that the same could happen again. Indeed, 61% of African countries have experienced more than one military coup (Barka and Ncube 2012), while the only countries to ever experience more than one democratic breakdown did so at the hands of the military (Cheibub 2007, 140). Kathman and Melin (2017) find that states with a more recent history of a coup will make larger contributions to UN peacekeeping. I augment this argument to suggest that the relationship is more likely to occur in a new democracy, where institutions are weaker, the military is less satisfied, and both the opportunity and desire to stage a coup are higher. This leads to my first hypothesis:

H3.1: Where a new democracy has a more recent history of a coup, it will make larger troop

contributions to UN peacekeeping than other new democracies.

While a country may not have experienced a coup in recent history, it would still have a strong incentive to deal with a military that remains powerful during the democratic transition. Not only does a more powerful military pose a greater threat to the government, but would require more resources in order to be placated by the government. In either case, this would lead the government to make a larger contribution of soldiers. Alternately, if the military was small to begin with, or had been significantly weakened prior to or during democratization, the state would have less need of peacekeeping. I therefore test the effect of pre-democratization levels of military strength, measured as both expenditure on the military and the total number of personnel in the armed forces:

H3.2: Where a new democracy has a greater level of pre-democracy military expenditure, it

will make larger troop contributions to UN peacekeeping than other new democracies.

H3.3: Where a new democracy has a larger pre-democracy military in terms of personnel, it

will make larger troop contributions to UN peacekeeping than other new democracies.

I test these hypotheses in very much the same way as in Chapter 2, using similar modeling choices. One difference of note is that this sample is restricted to the subset of new democracies, and only to those years post democratization (achieving a Polity score of +6 or greater). This is done since it is only for these observations that measures of pre-democracy military legacy can be obtained. A number of states in the sample of new democracies did not

exist independently prior to democratization, and therefore do not have individual measures of pre-democratization variables (consisting largely of former Soviet and Yugoslav republics).

These sixteen states are therefore omitted from the analysis. This results in 847 country-year observations from 51 new democracies. A second difference is that the dependent variable is restricted to military personnel only (troops and military observers), and so does not include civilian police peacekeepers. While total contributions were of interest in Chapter 2, this chapter’s argument assumes that the state’s incentive is directed towards the military specifically. I therefore include only the combination of troops and military observers using

Kathman’s (2013) data. To measure recent coup history, I include the same variable, years since coup, and its squared term to model the curvilinear relationship found by Kathman and

Melin (2017). Although this relationship was not significant for the full sample in Chapter 2,

Hypothesis 3.1 predicts that it will be here where only new democracies are considered.

To test Hypotheses 3.2 and 3.3, I use two measures of pre-democracy military legacy.

The first, military legacy (expenditure) is the logged value of military expenditure averaged for the five years prior to democratization. Using an average of a broader period smooths out any unusually high or low spending, and also accounts for the possibility that the budget changed dramatically right before the change in designation to a democracy. Secondly, military legacy (personnel) is the logged value of total armed forces personnel, similarly averaged for the five years prior to democratization. Both measures are constructed using data from Singer et al.’s (1972) Correlates of War/CINC Project. Since these measures are highly correlated with post-democratization levels of spending and personnel, it is possible that the military legacy measure is just proxying for present capacity in the year observed.

Controlling for present expenditure and personnel is not possible due to their strong correlation with the legacy variables. To best address this, I therefore include the proportion

change from the value of pre-democracy military legacy to the present value. This is done for both the spending and personnel variables. Including this variable therefore accounts for the similarity between the legacy measure and the present year capacity, restricting the military legacy variable only to its true effect. The variables Δ Military spending and Δ Military size are continuous variables indicating the proportion increase of pre-democracy military legacy reflected in the unlogged values of military spending and military size in a given year post- democratization.

As in previous models, standard errors are clustered on the contributor. This is particularly important in these tests since military legacy does not vary within countries from year to year, unless it had multiple occurrences of democratization. Clustering the standard errors therefore addresses correlated errors among these observations.

Table 3.2 shows the results of the zero-inflated negative binomial tests of these three hypotheses.7 In addition to testing each variable individually in Models 3-5, I test models including both the coup and military legacy measures in Models 6 and 7 (although I keep the two legacy variables in separate models due to a high level of collinearity between the two).

Subsequently in Table 3.3, I re-run Models 3-5 with the addition of an interaction of the explanatory variable with years of democracy, as used in Chapter 2, to identify if any contribution patterns change over time after the country has democratized. In Chapter 2 contributions dropped off in the years after democracy. It is possible that they will follow the same pattern here. However, the incentive to sustain, or even increase, contributions for military reasons may be stronger than other reasons, resulting in no or little decrease in contributions over time.

7 The table shows only the count equation of the ZINB for the sake of space. The full models are available upon request.

Table 3.2: Effect of military legacy on UN peacekeeping contribution size in new democracies using a zero-inflated negative binomial regression (inflation equation not shown).

Model 3 Model 4 Model 5 Model 6 Model 7 Contributiont-1 0.001* 0.001* 0.001* 0.001* 0.001* (0.0004) (0.0004) (0.0004) (0.0004) (0.0004)

Years since coup t-1 0.023 0.025 0.036† (0.022) (0.023) (0.020)

Years since coup2t-1 -0.0003 -0.0003 -0.001† (0.0003) (0.0003) (0.0003)

Military legacy (expenditure) 0.374* 0.385* (0.113) (0.120)

Military legacy (personnel) 0.337* 0.366* (0.094) (0.098)

Log military spending t-1 0.345* (0.130)

Log military size t-1 0.081 (0.138)

Δ Military spending 0.185* 0.153* (0.060) (0.066)

Δ Military size 0.192 0.075 (0.445) (0.503)

Log GDP pct-1 -0.587* -0.540* -0.300* -0.571* -0.350* (0.249) (0.226) (0.152) (0.252) (0.164)

Intrastate conflict t-1 0.004 0.113 0.080 0.100 0.044 (0.291) (0.304) (0.332) (0.295) (0.311)

Global missions 0.018 0.029 0.052 0.027 0.042 (0.044) (0.038) (0.036) (0.037) (0.036)

Constant 4.098* 3.734* 4.940* 3.634* 5.056* (1.066) (1.260) (1.150) (1.231) (1.125)

N 847 652 678 652 678 Lnalpha 0.739* 0.562* 0.568* 0.557* 0.555* Wald c2 70.32 79.30 71.12 106.27 101.97

†p £ 0.1, *p £ 0.05. Robust standard errors clustered by contributor appear in parentheses.

Looking at Table 3.2, I find strong support for the military legacy hypotheses, but little support for the coup history hypothesis. Only in Model 7 is the relationship between recent experience of a coup and contributions statistically significant (at p<0.1), whereas it is insignificant in all other models where the military’s capacity (spending or personnel) is controlled for. As in Chapter 2, the experience of a recent coup appears to be proxying for military capacity, challenging the findings of Kathman and Melin (2017). A statistically significant relationship can be identified without controlling for military capacity (log military spending or log military size), but including one or both of these, as in Model 3, renders the relationship insignificant. This is a logical conclusion: states are less likely to fear a coup recurrence if the military is much weaker than if it is stronger. A recent coup experience may generate some latent fear of a repeat event, but this would most likely be conditioned on the military’s actual capacity to do so. However, this is only partially verified in Models 6 and 7. Controlling for the size of the military’s budget does not change the relationship between coup history and contributions. A pattern is evident in Model 7, however, where accounting for the size of the military in terms of personnel prior to democratization leads a government to make larger contributions in light of a recent coup. A large standing military with a recent history of insurrection therefore seems to play an important role in a new democracy’s contribution decisions.

Models 4 to 7 indicate that higher levels of pre-democracy military legacy result in larger troop contributions. Where more is spent on the military and where there is a greater number of standing military personnel, the government uses peacekeeping as a way to reduce potential threats from this more established military presence. By calculating the conditional marginal effect of each logged military legacy variable holding other covariates at their means, one can estimate the change in contribution size given a ten percent increase in

military legacy. For military legacy (expenditure) in Model 6, a ten percent increase in pre- democratization military spending will lead a state to contribute an additional 82 military personnel in an average month, with roughly the same effect for military legacy (personnel) in Model 7 – an increase of 81 peacekeepers. This amounts to a roughly 20% increase from the average number of peacekeepers deployed by a country in a year.

It is plausible that higher levels of spending or personnel leads states to make greater contributions for other reasons: the mere capacity to offer more would logically result in greater contributions, rather than it being a strategic choice of the government to reduce the military’s potential threat. One challenge to this is the fact that the results in Chapter 2 indicate no such relationship exists (see Table 2.2): considering all countries (not just new democracies), the size and budget of the military has no statistically significant effect on contributions. It is therefore highly likely that these variables are measuring the latent threat posed by the military during and after the democratic transition.

Table 3.3 shows the results of testing the effect of time on the observed relationships.

Whereas contributions experienced a fairly quick drop off after democratization for all personnel in Chapter 2, the same effect is not observed here. The statistically insignificant coefficient for the interaction of the years since coup and military legacy measures with years of democracy indicates that states do not reduce their military contributions as time of democracy passes. This suggests that the government sees a continued benefit to maintaining contributions of a similar size, which is consistent with the idea that the military requires a sustained source of appeasement after democratization. Moreover, the positive coefficient indicates that any relationship may actually be the opposite: that as more time passes, a greater military legacy leads to larger contributions.

Table 3.3: Effect of military legacy on UNPKO contributions over time after democratization using a ZINB

The only other result of note in Tables 3.2 and 3.3 is the negative and statistically significant effect of GDP per capita on contributions. Table 3.1 showed no relationship between per capita income and country contributions of peacekeepers (the effect was soaked up by democratization). Here, where the sample is restricted to new democracies, there is a significant and negative relationship: democratizing states that are poorer make larger contributions. Since military expenditure is controlled for, this suggests that they have incentives beyond just military funding for contributing peacekeepers. The result supports the idea that governments make larger contributions in response not just to military demands, but also social ones. Where a new democracy has a poorer citizenry, it faces greater pressures to provide economic benefits to the public, and therefore has a stronger incentive to divert military funding to social expenses. While this is only one possible interpretation of this finding, it is in keeping with the argument throughout this chapter.

This section has shown evidence that new democracies make larger contributions of military personnel to UN peacekeeping missions where there is a greater perceived threat of the military to the new regime, and where the military subsequently requires a greater degree of appeasement or diversion. These findings lend support to the overall argument in this chapter: that the short-term threat of the military to new democracies is a major determinant of the state’s decision to participate in UN peacekeeping. The next test will narrow in on the extent to which this decision involves the need for financial remuneration as a tool to appease the military.

3.6.2 Financial Incentives: UN vs. Non-UN Missions

Since UN peacekeepers are paid the same rate regardless of the type or location of the mission to which they are sent,8 there is no way to identify how decisions to deploy troops as peacekeepers reflect a desire for financial gain aside from the total number of troops a country offers. However, although there is no variation of financial benefit within and between missions, one might find additional evidence of state incentives when comparing contributions to UN peacekeeping versus other peacekeeping operations. Non-UN peacekeeping operations are a common alternative to UN interventions, which are typically conducted either by a powerful central state heading up a coalition of others, or by regional organizations such as NATO or the African Union. While the two are different in a number of ways, perhaps the most salient difference for developing countries is that non-UN missions generally do not remunerate for peacekeeping service. This may therefore make non-UN missions valuable in less tangible ways (such as reputation with regional organizations), but will offer no immediate financial benefit. New democracies will therefore shy away from such operations, since a driving factor in their participation is to seek alternative sources of funding for the military.

The study of non-UN multilateral peace operations has been given significantly less attention than those of the UN. This is largely due to the relative absence of data on such operations until recently. However, the production of multilateral peace operations deployment datasets in recent years has allowed for the investigation of a host of questions relating to state participation in, and the effects of, non-UN missions and their comparison

8 Personnel considered as specialists receive a supplementary income, which in 2014 stood at $303 per month (Gaibulloev et al. 2015, 3).

to UN missions.9 What few studies of non-UN missions exist overwhelmingly agree that there are important differences between the two types regarding state incentives to participate.

The Multilateral Peace Operations Database (SIPRI) includes data on some 200 missions since 1993, far outweighing the approximately 70 UN missions in the same period

(Van der Lijn and Smit 2016, 24). Non-UN missions also account for significantly greater expenditure. From 1994 to 2006, $122 billion were spent on non-UN operations, where only

$27 billion were used for UN peacekeeping over the same period, although the former figure was heavily influenced by massive and complex missions in Iraq and Afghanistan (Gaibulloev et al. 2009).

Other differences create more direct implications for potential donor countries.

Benefits to participating in non-UN missions over UN missions include having a more autonomous role in the mission’s strategy, rather than being influenced by the UN’s bureaucracy or powerful countries; gaining favor with a regional organization that might offer more tangible benefits to the state; being unconstrained in tactics, whereas the UN has stricter rules about the use of force; and, similarly, being unconstrained by the UN’s foundational value of remaining impartial, where some states seek direct intervention on behalf of an ally or for other reasons. It is therefore understandable why some would prefer to direct their resources through non-UN peace channels.

However, serving in non-UN missions also has a number of drawbacks, which are likely to be felt more strongly by developing countries than others. Most notably, non-UN missions rarely reimburse for personnel or equipment costs. Countries receive $1,428 per month for a peacekeeper serving in a UN mission, with an additional monthly stipend of $73

9 The best examples are the International Institute for Strategic Studies (IISS) “Military Balance Database” and the Stockholm International Peace Research Institute’s (SIPRI) “Multilateral Peace Operations Database.”

for equipment, clothing, and weaponry (Gaibulloev et al. 2015, 3). The contributor is also remunerated for any equipment offered for the mission according to a detailed scale of reimbursement rates.10 Since the peacekeeper is typically paid according to the domestic military salary scale, the government can recoup a non-trivial portion of this payment for other purposes. As discussed above, this can provide a significant motivation for states, who can not only keep service members paid, but can supplement the defense budget without having to reduce spending in other domestic areas. By contrast, non-UN missions typically require contributors to foot the bill for participation.

Bove and Elia (2011) find that contributions to non-UN peacekeeping missions cannot be predicted by low per capita income, the presence of a larger military, or a larger defense budget. Gaibulloev et al. (2015) find very similar results, although they find that poorer countries are statistically significantly less likely to contribute to non-UN missions than wealthier countries. Where poorer countries do contribute, it is usually because a wealthy country or organization has offered to pay for their service. For example, the European Union funds the African Union Mission in Somalia (AMISOM), although payment has on occasion been reduced or delayed in reaching contributors (Williams 2017). These results indicate that countries appear to seek financial benefit from peacekeeping, and that simply removing the military from domestic politics is not sufficient reason to participate in peacekeeping.

Consequently, the national composition of non-UN peacekeeping missions is much different to that of UN missions. Table 3.4 shows all countries that gave more than 10,000 troops to non-UN missions between 1990 and 2012. 20 are OECD countries, while only 5 non-

OECD countries appear. Comparing this list to Table 2.1 in Chapter 2, Nigeria, Morocco, and

10 For example, see the report of the 2017 Working Group on Contingent-Owned Equipment, A/C.5/71.20 (https://undocs.org/A/C.5/71/20).

Poland are the only non-OECD countries that appear on both lists, while there is a notable absence of major UN contributors such as Bangladesh, Pakistan, India, Ghana, and Nepal.

Table 3.4: Military personnel contributions to non-UN peacekeeping operations, 1990-2012.

Total Total Rank Country Rank Country Contribution Contribution 1 United States 1,802,405 14 Uganda 19,350 2 United Kingdom 185,027 15 Greece 19,055 3 France 138,929 16 Denmark 17,646 4 Germany 106,351 17 Romania 16,805 5 Italy 100,032 18 Burundi 15,638 6 Nigeria 89,859 19 Belgium 13,617 7 Russia 89,768 20 Czech Republic 12,238 8 Turkey 37,305 21 Hungary 12,180 9 Spain 36,560 22 Sweden 11,620 10 Canada 33,171 23 Morocco 11,591 11 Poland 31,677 24 Norway 11,584 12 Netherlands 30,218 25 Austria 10,087 13 Australia 22,997

The above argument is not to suggest there are not other differences between UN and non-UN missions that might incentivize new democracies to participate in one over the other.

However, there are few other factors that are consistent within each type. For example, the disparate nature of non-UN missions means that experiences, exposure to risk, training, and interaction with peacekeepers of a particular background vary widely across missions.

Moreover, these factors are quite heterogeneous even within UN missions, as will be discussed in Chapter 4. Financial reimbursement is therefore the only obvious consistent difference between the two. Since this chapter argues that new democracies seek out peacekeeping as a source of income for the military budget, we should expect to see them contribute peacekeepers in high numbers to UN missions, but not to non-UN missions. Since the former has been verified in Chapter 2, I will here test the latter argument:

H3.4: New democracies are no more likely to make large contributions of peacekeepers to

non-UN missions than other types of state.

I do not argue that they are less likely, because the category of non-new democracies contains a large number of poor countries that would similarly have no incentive to participate in such missions. I therefore expect no discernable relationship.

Table 3.5 shows the effect of being a new democracy on personnel contributions to UN and non-UN missions. Since the non-UN data does not disaggregate roles into military and non-military, I revert to the same measure for UN peacekeeping instead of just military personnel. The test of non-UN missions uses data on country-year-mission contributions to non-UN peace operations, compiled by Gaibulloev et al. (2015) from the International

Institute for Strategic Studies Military Balance Database. I collapse mission-specific contributions into a single figure giving a contributor-year unit of analysis. I keep the P5 control variable in the non-UN models, since these five powerful countries are also heavily involved in non-UN operations (the US, UK, and France are the top contributors of non-UN personnel, while Russia is the seventh highest). As another slight variation, global missions in the non-UN models is a count of the total number of non-UN missions operating in the given year, rather than UN missions. I also include a dummy variable for the United States, since it is responsible for a significant portion of all contributions to non-UN missions due to large operations in Iraq and Afghanistan. I include only the coefficients for democratization in Table 3.5, although the full results, including both the inflation and count equations, are available upon request. As with Chapter 2, I include the five windows of democratization, ranging from one to five years.

Table 3.5: Effect of democratization on contributions to UN and non-UN peacekeeping operations.

Year t-1 Year t-2 Year t-3 Year t-4 Year t-5 Dependent variable:

Contribution to UN 0.460* 0.361* 0.366* 0.312* 0.257† missions (0.146) (0.143) (0.125) (0.140) (0.154)

Contribution to 0.243 0.135 0.217 -0.024 -0.057 non-UN missions (0.275) (0.245) (0.292) (0.275) (0.229)

†p £ 0.1, *p £ 0.05. Robust standard errors clustered by contributor appear in parentheses.

The results support Hypothesis 3.4 and align with existing findings: while new

democracies are more likely to contribute to UN missions than other states, they are no more

likely to contribute to non-UN missions. The relationship for the latter test is highly

statistically insignificant for each year, and the relationship turns negative after four years

of democracy. From this, it can confidently be concluded that new democracies have stronger

incentives to participate in peacekeeping created by the UN. There may be multiple reasons

for this, but the consistent and significant difference of peacekeeper remuneration is likely a

central driving factor. This further supports the idea that new democracies seek out

peacekeeping involvement for financial benefits.

3.6.3 Military Budget Supplementation

Having identified that the legacy of a strong or threatening military increases

peacekeeping contributions by new democracies, and that the UN is the primary vehicle for

doing this due in large part to the associated financial benefits, I now turn to assessing if

these two findings are ultimately linked. While previous literature argues that financial

incentives are driven by the mercenary desires of either the state or military as stand-alone

entities, I argue that the financial dividends are sought out by the state, for the military in order to prevent unrest in the early years of democracy. The most effective way to test this argument is to assess how peacekeeping affects military capacity comparing pre-democracy to post-democratization levels. While in a typical democratic transition one would expect to observe a decline in military capacity as funds are diverted to public spending, countries making greater contributions of peacekeepers can more easily supplement the military budget with UN remunerations. This will therefore mitigate the negative effect of democratization on the military’s budget, and possibly even have a positive effect, where surplus revenues can be used to fund programs for troops and veterans. This is expressed in two further hypotheses:

H3.5: Where a new democracy makes larger contributions of peacekeeping troops, it will

experience sustained or increased post-democratization military expenditure

compared to its pre-democratization expenditure.

H3.6: Where a new democracy makes smaller contributions of peacekeeping troops, it will

experience decreased post-democratization military expenditure compared to its pre-

democratization expenditure.

Figure 3.4 illustrates the logic of these hypotheses. It shows military expenditure and troop contributions to UN peacekeeping over time in Sri Lanka (data on peacekeeping contributions begin in 1990). Sri Lanka did not make peacekeeping contributions until after its democratic transition in 2001. In the immediate aftermath of democratization, military expenditure decreases by around one third. Following its rapid integration into peacekeeping, military expenditure saw a sharp increase. Although Sri Lanka experienced a minor

democratic backslide in 2003 due to a breakdown in peace settlement negotiations with the

LTTE, the government was not removed and there was no incidence of a military coup during this time.

It should be noted that failure to engage in peacekeeping after democratization will not necessarily result in a reduction of the military budget or personnel count. In some cases, the government may fear the military more than the public, and maintain military expenditure and personnel levels rather than divert spending to public matters. While these states will likely struggle to sustain democracy for long, for the purposes of the present study it will lead to findings that do not support the hypotheses.

Figure 3.4: Military expenditure and UN troop contributions in Sri Lanka, 1980-2011.

To test this empirically, I conduct a quasi-experiment of pre- and post-democratization military capacity, assessing how peacekeeping involvement affects any changes in this

activity. I employ an interrupted time-series analysis (ITSA), commonly used to assess the impact of a specific intervention on an ex ante and ex post outcome. ITSA is widely used in social and biological sciences to assess the impact of introducing such treatments as new policies (e.g. Bloom and Ladd 1982), community interventions (e.g. Biglan et al. 1996) or medical trials (e.g. Matowe et al. 2003). ITSA is useful when testing changes in a single variable after a specific change or treatment, since it compares the trend over time in the ex ante period to that of the ex post period, whereas a simple regression would only account for the relationship between the pre and post values of the variable in a single time period.

Moreover, the analysis can identify the form of the effect (changes in the level, slope, or variance of the variable), the permanence of the change (whether it is continuous or discontinues after a time), and the immediacy of the effect (whether it takes place at once or with a delay) (Shadish et al. 173).

The method implements ordinary least squares analysis of each segment of the test, allowing for separate slopes and intercepts for the pre- and post-treatment phases. The single

ITSA (i.e. n-of-1 trial) possesses internal validity insofar as the pre-treatment period is approached as a counterfactual to the post-treatment period. However, some have identified this validity as being limited since it does not account for external confounders that could simultaneously (or alternately) cause a change in the variable’s trend (Linden 2017, 408). For example, the effect of a policy intervention may be confounded by a similar policy enacted at the same time. Two ways to overcome this are to either administer the treatment at different times, or to create a control group of non-recipients of the treatment. To maximize the validity of this test, I implement both of these options. The former is self-evident, since countries democratize at different times. However, it is not feasible to conduct a multiple treatment analysis where the treatment is implemented at different times. I therefore run an individual

ITSA for each country. I look to control for other covariates through matching the country on

a number of factors. To achieve this, I use the Stata package “ITSAMATCH” (Linden 2017), a matching framework that has shown to be more reliable both in balancing samples across covariates and providing unbiased estimates of regression coefficients. The program finds control cases that are comparable to the treated case in both the intercept and slope of the outcome variable and other chosen covariates prior to the intervention. In addition to the outcome variable, military spending, I also attempt to match on two additional covariates: first, the country’s GDP (current $US, World Bank 2018), since wealthier countries have a greater capacity for military expenditure. Second, whether or not the country is engaged in an interstate rivalry in a given year. This is highly likely to be a predictor of the level of military spending. This is coded from Thompson and Dreyer’s (2011) list of interstate rivalries. Unfortunately, due to heterogeneity across units and a relatively small sample size, there are few instances where a country can be matched to others on both additional variables. Moreover, where it can be matched on just one, the number of control units is very small. I therefore opt for a larger number of control units over breadth of similarity, and match units only on military spending, such that all treated cases are subject to the same testing restrictions (rather than some being matched on multiple covariates). To ensure balance across treated and control units, I test increasingly strict cut points of statistical similarity, starting at p>0.05, where values above this indicate units are not statistically different from one another and therefore represent balance. Where balance is not achieved, the p-value is increased in increments of 0.05 until balance occurs (cutoffs for each case are indicated in Table A3.1 in the Appendix).

I limit the sample of possible control units to states not experiencing democratization during the time period to ensure there is no overlap of the proposed treatment effect. Finally,

I drop three observations for Kuwait from 1990 to 1992 due to a major spike in military

spending during the Gulf War which serve as outliers having a strong effect on the OLS regression.

The multiple-group regression model assumes the following form:

Yt = β0 + β1Tt + β2Xt + β3XtTt + β4Z + β5ZTt + β6ZXt ++ β7ZXtTt + εt

The components of the model are summarized in Table 3.6. Of particular note, β4 and

β5 indicate how well balanced the treatment and control units are, where balance is reflected in a statistically insignificant different between the two. Comparatively, β6 and β7 indicate that the treatment is effective if there is a statistically significant difference (p<0.05) in either the immediate level, β6 (i.e. there was an immediate change in Y after the treatment), the difference in slopes between the two, β7, or both. This means that the test can identify the effect of the treatment both immediately and over time (Linden 2015, 481).

For my test, I predict that the effect of democratization on military expenditure and personnel levels will be moderated by the country’s peacekeeping involvement. I expect the large contributors to exhibit a steady continuation of military expenditure – or in some cases even an increase – in the years after democratization. For some, this may be a smooth continuation, whereas in others there may be a delay in integrating the military into peacekeeping sufficiently to reflect in the military capacity measures (i.e. there may be some initial decreases in expenditure). Contrarily, I expect the small contributors to exhibit a decrease in military capacity post-democratization that is statistically different to its pre- democratization trend.

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Table 3.6: Explanation of model components within multiple-group ITSA analysis.

Description

Yt Outcome variable at time point t

Tt Time since the start of the study at time point t

Xt Binary indicator of pre- (0) or post-treatment (1) Z Binary indicator of treatment (1) or control cohort (0)

β0 Y intercept for control group pre-treatment β1 Y slope for control group pre-treatment β2 Immediate change in Y for control group post-treatment (intercept shift) β3 Change in Y slope for control group post-treatment β4 Difference in Y intercept between treatment and control groups pre-treatment β5 Difference in Y slope between treatment and control groups pre-treatment β6 Immediate difference in Y between treatment and control groups post-treatment (intercept) β7 Difference in Y slope between treatment and control groups post-treatment compared to pre-treatment Source: Linden (2017)

To account for the two groups, I run ITSA tests on twenty new democracies, ten of which are major troop contributors post-democratization (more than 350 peacekeepers per month) and ten that make minimal contributions (less than 20 peacekeepers per month). The results from the two groups can then be compared to identify if a difference in military spending is observed after democratization between them. Countries were selected by ranking new democracies within the sample based on their average monthly post- democratization troop contribution between 1992 and 2011, and selecting from the top of the list and the bottom. I do not include states for which there are not at least four years of observations pre- and post-democratization (Biglan et al. (1996) suggest a minimum of five observations either side of the treatment, although I include three cases with four

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observations in order to boost the sample size). This includes instances where the state did not have four consecutive years of non-democracy before transition, or where it reverted to non-democracy within four years of transitioning.11 To account for transition back to non- democracy, the year of backsliding is considered as an additional treatment, creating a separate segment for comparison (and therefore its own regression line). The resulting two groups are shown in Table 3.7.

Table 3.7: Sample of new democracies for interrupted time-series analysis.

Large Year of Small Year of contributors transition contributors transition

Bangladesh12 1991 Taiwan13 1992 Ghana 2001 Honduras 1989 Kenya 2002 Guinea-Bissau 2005 Senegal 2000 Georgia 2004 Poland 1991 Nicaragua 1992 South Africa 1992 Mexico 1997 Malaysia 2008 Lesotho14 1993 Indonesia 1999 Guyana 1992 Zambia15 1991 Burundi 2005 Benin 1991 Albania 2002

11 Although this might appear to cause a selection problem where states that heavily reduce military spending experience subsequent democratic backsliding, and therefore drop out of the sample, this is not the case for any of the ten smallest contributors. 12 Backslid in 2007. 13 Taiwan is not a UN member, and is therefore incapable of contributing to UNPKOs. However, the only requirement for inclusion in this list is making little or no contribution while having some military capacity. It therefore still serves as a valid comparison to the large contributors. 14 Backslid in 1998 and re-democratized in 2001. 15 Backslid in 1996 and re-democratized in 2008.

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The outcome variable, Y, is the total military expenditure of a country in a given year, measured in thousands of current $US (Singer et al. 1972). The treatment, X, is democratization, which receives a 1 in the year that the country’s Polity score moves from less than +6 to +6 or more. A small number of missing values for military spending occur in some cases. In order to conduct the ITSA, I interpolate these data values using linear interpolation of military spending on the country’s gross domestic product, since they are correlated at 0.91 and military expenditure is likely a function of the country’s GDP. A total of 21 data points are interpolated.16 Two countries – Zambia and Lesotho – experienced two transitions during the sample period. In these cases, I only include tests of the first period of democracy. Additionally, Bangladesh experienced a democratic backslide (Polity < +6) during the period, but did not re-democratize. Here, I limit the post-intervention sample only to those years where it was a democracy.

The results of the analysis are shown in Tables 3.8 and 3.9, where Table 3.8 shows the major troop contributors, and table 3.9 shows the small contributors. The results provide a degree of support for the hypotheses, but it is evident that conclusive trends across countries do not exist (at least with the current testing) in post-democratization military expenditure dependent on peacekeeping participation. Therefore, while effects in individual cases are identified, additional theorizing and testing are necessary to better understand this phenomenon.

Of first note, the coefficients for Z and Z*T indicate if the treatment and control units are balanced when matched on military expenditure. Z*T is a more important indicator of balance, since it reflects the slope of military spending over time for the two groups compared to one another, whereas Z indicates the starting value of military spending. Similar

16 Countries and number of interpolated data points are: Benin (2), Liberia (6), Guinea-Bissau (4), Georgia (2), Nicaragua (1), Guyana (5), Burundi (1).

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Table 3.8: Interrupted time-series analysis of military expenditure pre- and post- democratization (large UNPKO contributors).

Bangladesh Ghana Kenya Senegal Poland South Malaysia Indonesia Zambia Benin Africa

T 490.34* 15.42 -1.75 21.13 -1297.57* 349.18* 101.59* 157.13* 7.41* 89.97 (113.12) (19.81) (15.26) (20.87) (499.51) (29.57) (22.53) (26.35) (0.97) (152.78)

Z 842.47† -476.95 -299.51* -469.60 -3771.40 313.06 162.66 -23.43 8.14 -250.35 (470.74) (334.05) (108.42) (348.60) (2368.51) (263.84) (448.73) (581.76) (11.70) (408.82)

Z*T -461.97* -10.07 7.08 -22.56 31.69 -14.21 -5.16 9.53 6.35 -87.47 (113.34) (19.92) (15.42) (20.89) (553.54) (58.31) (27.87) (98.01) (4.02) (152.78)

X 329.02 -284.84 264.74 -411.54 -2709.81 -1250.45* 556.28 -1268.03* 37.92* 159.25 (1028.62) (358.58) (271.37) (415.26) (2482.67) (229.76) (824.30) (403.10) (15.78) (1962.59)

T*X -434.71* 5.15 19.62 8.36 1787.39* -256.79* -225.42 135.46† -23.02* 206.15 (165.32) (51.69) (39.61) (47.89) (499.52) (35.98) (398.74) (71.42) (5.09) (280.97)

Z*X -367.37 194.04 -340.83 374.93 3441.72 -921.23 -188.97 106.11 -110.48* -186.14 (1029.14) (359.43) (274.25) (415.41) (2713.28) (674.57) (879.81) (1634.65) (24.64) (1962.60)

Z*X*T 441.85* -0.16 32.99 11.59 -160.37 -5.85 202.69 37.06 9.63 -205.35 (165.52) (51.74) (40.38) (47.92) (558.27) (71.80) (424.20) (181.67) (6.28) (280.97)

Post trend 35.50* 10.35* 57.93* 18.52* 361.13* 72.32 73.70 339.18* 0.37 3.30* (treated) (3.81) (0.39) (7.53) (1.45) 46.70) (44.22) (142.10) (129.75) (0.81) (0.45)

Post trend 55.62 20.57 17.86 29.49 489.81* 92.38* -123.83 292.59* -15.62* 296.12 (control) (111.38) (46.53) (39.21) (42.39) (141.63) (21.89) (396.10) (70.37) (5.18) (235.09)

Constant -667.68 507.33 495.67* 570.07 12983.33* 1626.65* 1194.41* 1098.66* 25.99* 272.84 (469.63) (333.69) (105.69) (348.47) (2162.76) (165.94) (361.08) (185.76) (2.30) (408.80)

Control 9 12 8 12 1 4 12 10 1 4 matches

N 255 324 190 299 54 120 325 289 53 131

Note: OLS regression with Newey-West standard errors shown in parentheses. †p £ 0.1, *p £ 0.05.

trajectories of spending are more important for identifying changes after the treatment is introduced. In both samples, the pre-treatment slopes (Z*T) are balanced at p>0.05 (i.e. statistically insignificant) in all cases except Bangladesh, where balance could not be achieved with the inclusion of any control units. Similarly, balance on the intercept (Z) across units was achieved in all cases except Guyana. Therefore, the results comparing these cases

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to the control units cannot be considered statistically strong. Next, analysis of the coefficient

for Z*X indicates if a state experienced an immediate shift in military spending at the point

of democratization, compared with the control groups.

Table 3.9: Interrupted time-series analysis of military expenditure pre- and post- democratization (small UNPKO contributors).

Taiwan Honduras Guinea- Georgia Nicaragua Mexico Lesotho Guyana Burundi Albania Bissau

T 1495.37 21.60† -0.34 -1.95† -16.46 199.44* 54.91 0.18 6.76 21.46 (1155.37) (11.32) (10.04) (1.09) (28.73) (34.97) (83.45) (4.22) (22.40) (22.65)

Z -2289.14 -169.10 -335.31* 161.78 -98.63 -724.98 -107.79 -84.71* -679.13† -540.51 (4333.75) (123.85) (99.28) (200.91) (194.37) (480.80) (316.90) (38.92) (388.51) (338.38)

Z*T -566.08 1.17 0.36 -2.53 -34.54 10.54 -52.75 -8.49† -5.32 -26.68 (1155.98) (12.11) (10.04) (23.80) (39.62) (68.24) (83.46) (4.67) (22.40) (22.70)

X 3653.84 -125.10 -82.08 7.46 -146.34 -1201.15* -77.26 -50.18 -266.05 -309.97 (7195.15) (138.25) (189.77) (23.95) (131.64) (599.79) (641.74) (41.47) (351.41) (386.95)

T*X 88.28 -11.07 83.74 12.03* 72.49† -36.11 38.45 4.76 70.20 9.26 (1290.62) (11.81) (59.68) (5.38) (37.22) (58.05) (259.51) (4.33) (92.67) (55.51)

Z*X 6280.57 29.98 87.18 162.31 127.28 2239.72* 66.91 62.98 281.21 307.78 (7311.90) (140.16) (189.78) (168.05) (166.74) (890.94) (641.68) (42.13) (351.56) (387.64)

Z*X*T -1258.74 -10.06 -82.08 28.18 -21.75 -129.18 -37.53 4.74 -74.32 12.69 (1294.67) (12.53) (59.68) (36.35) (46.39) (96.58) (259.51) (4.78) (92.69) (55.77)

Post trend -241.183* 1.64 1.68* 35.73 -4.27 44.69 3.08* 1.18* -2.68† 16.73* (treated) (89.13) (1.29) (0.26) (27.08) (3.24) (51.71) (2.30) (0.28) (1.49) (5.16)

Post trend 1583.64* 10.52† 83.40 10.08† 56.02* 163.33* 93.36 4.94† 76.97 30.72 (control) (560.01) (5.84) (58.65) (5.43) (15.17) (51.18) (238.15) (2.56) (88.88) (51.87)

Constant 5327.71 212.43† 341.57 106.30* 651.24* 762.66* 122.01 140.19* 707.50† 713.20* (4331.39) (123.38) (99.28) (13.55) (123.58) (234.83) (316.87) (37.54) (388.47) (337.95)

Control 3 8 7 11 2 13 6 4 12 12 matches

N 108 225 178 286 70 302 167 116 304 310

Note: OLS regression with Newey-West standard errors shown in parentheses. †p £ 0.1, *p £ 0.05.

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Half of the strong contributor cases exhibit a drop in the treated country’s spending relative to the controls, as indicated by a negative coefficient. However, only in the case of Zambia is this decrease statistically significantly different to the control units. While this could be a function of a small number of data points, it indicates that there is no strong evidence of democratizing countries experiencing an initial drop in military spending as they transition to greater involvement in peacekeeping. Looking at the small contributors, only Honduras shows a decline in spending upon democratization, but it is not statistically significant.

Mexico shows an increase, which cannot be immediately explained by my argument, since

Mexico makes only nominal contributions to UNPKOs. With additional cases for comparison and more data points, it is possible that the results would more clearly indicate reduced military spending in large contributors, while small contributors do not make immediate changes to spending (but should see a decline over time of they are responding to public demand for redistribution of spending). However, this cannot be concluded from the above results.

Considering changes in military spending over time, we first consider the coefficient for post trend for the treated units. For the major contributors, all show an increase in the slope post-democratization compared with pre-democratization, indicating that military spending does go up in a systematic manner. This result is statistically significant in seven of the ten cases. Figure 3.5 shows the example of Kenya, where military spending saw a sharp increase in the years following democratization in 2002. Although the group of control countries had also experienced a gradual increase since the early 1990s, Kenya’s shift led to growth not only in its own spending rate, but also a higher annual growth rate than its control counterparts.

Conversely, only three of the control groups show a statistically significant increase, and one exhibits a decrease. This gives moderate evidence of the effect of peacekeeping

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participation on increased military financial capacity. It does not discount confounding factors that could cause these trends, however, since the ITSA does not allow for other factors to be controlled for in the model. Specific to Hypothesis 3.5, there are no cases where these states decrease spending over time, and Poland is the only case where the increase of a democratizing state is at a slower pace than the controls (indicated by a larger statistically significant coefficient for the control post-intervention trend). This therefore provides initial support for Hypothesis 3.5.

Figure 3.5: Military expenditure for Kenya versus control countries, 1985-2011.

Returning to the results, the coefficient for Z*X*T suggests, however, that some caution is necessary in taking these findings as affirmation of the hypothesis. This coefficient indicates if the change in post-intervention trend for the treated unit is significantly different

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from the change in trend in the control units. Bangladesh offers the only statistically significant result, and since these trends where not balance pre-treatment, this result cannot be taken as conclusive.

Looking at the small contributor group, three treated countries show a statistically significant increase in military spending post-democratization, with only one showing a decrease (Taiwan), while Burundi shows a decrease significant at p<0.1. Although this is less than half the number of large contributors that exhibited a statistically significant increase, these results do not offer much support for Hypothesis 3.6, which predicts more of these countries should experience a decrease in military spending post-democratization. Instead, seven of the ten have a positive shift in military spending.

How might these results be explained? The first suggested explanation must be that the proposed relationship does not exist: the military budget is not threatened in a newly democratic order. If there is such an effect, it likely exhibits variation across new democracies, where some will face greater pressures to divert military spending to public programs. This is likely the case in poorer countries or those with bloated defense budgets at the time of democratization. While the ITSA method is useful for testing pre- and post- democratization trends in military spending, it is limited in its ability to account for these covarying factors.

Another possible explanation why the majority of the twenty cases tested show an increase in military spending regardless of UNPKO contribution behavior is that global military spending increased in the time period covered. Since the ITSA cannot control for temporal trends, this is unaccounted for in the analyses. However, the fact that the increases in both the large and small contributors is almost never significantly different to the control groups suggests this may be an underlying factor. Figure 3.6 shows the average military spending over time for all countries, excluding the permanent five members of the UN

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Security Council, whose spending far outstrips other countries and pulls the average up significantly. There is a clear upward trend, particularly from 2002 onward, likely a result of post-9/11 defense spending increases and involvement in coalition interventions in

Afghanistan and Iraq. This change would explain (at least in part) a surge in military spending for those countries democratizing around this time, which may outweigh any changes in spending due to peacekeeping involvement. One possible means to address this would be to re-conduct the analyses using military expenditure as a proportion of GDP as the outcome measure. However, as shown in Figure 3.7, this variable has similarly been affected by a temporal trend, where average GDP has increased at a faster rate than military spending, leading to increasingly smaller proportions of military spending to GDP. Using this as the outcome variable would therefore create a similar problem to the current analyses, where trends would instead be deflated rather than inflated.

Figure 3.6: Average military expenditure for all countries (except P5), 1986-2011.

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Figure 3.7: Average military expenditure as a proportion of GDP for all countries (except P5), 1986-2011.

One effective way to compare the spending changes of the large and small contributors is to consider the rates of change from one group to the other. Although both generally seem to exhibit increases in military spending after democratization, this should occur to a greater extent in the large contributors. This would not necessarily prove that the small contributors are diverting funds away from the military per se, but would be at least consistent with the theory I have proposed. To pursue this line of argument, one can compare the pre-treatment trend in military spending of the country in question to its post-treatment effect, and calculate the change as a percentage increase or decrease in pre-treatment spending. Table

3.10 shows these calculations. Since neither is shown in the multiple-group ITSA, I re- conduct a single analysis for each of the twenty countries. This offers the same results for the country in question as the multiple-group analysis, but produces individual coefficients for the pre- and post-treatment trends, rather than just the total post-treatment effect. Here, _t

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represents the pre-treatment trend, where the coefficient indicates the annual growth in military expenditure in $US millions. For example, before democratization, Bangladesh was spending an additional $28.36 million per year on the military from the 1985 baseline. _xt represents the net change in growth after the treatment. For example, after democratization,

Ghana increased its previous growth of $5.36 million by another $4.99 million, which totals

$10.35 million growth per year post-democratization (the third column). The fourth column shows the percentage change in growth from pre- to post-treatment (which is not possible if the initial trend is negative and the post- trend is positive).

Table 3.10: Single ITSA of military expenditure pre- and post-trends.

Linear trend Country _t _xt % change (_t +_xt) Major contributors Bangladesh 28.36* 7.13 35.50* 25.14% Ghana 5.36* 4.99* 10.35* 93.10% Kenya 5.33* 52.60* 57.93* 986.87% Senegal -1.43 19.95* 18.52* - Poland -1265.89* 1627.01* 361.13* - South Africa 334.96* -262.64* 72.32 -78.41% Malaysia 96.43* -22.73 73.70 -23.57% Indonesia 166.65 172.53 339.18* 103.53% Zambia 13.76* -13.26* 0.50 -96.37% Benin 2.50* 0.72 3.22* 28.8% Minor contributors Taiwan 929.29* -1170.47* -241.18* -125.95% Honduras 22.78* -21.14* 1.64 -92.80% Guinea-Bissau 0.02 1.66* 1.68* 8300.00% Georgia -4.48 40.21 35.73 - Nicaragua -55.01† 50.74† -4.27 - Mexico 209.98* -165.29† 44.69 -78.72% Lesotho 2.15* 0.93 3.08† 43.26% Guyana -8.32* 9.50* 1.18* - Burundi 1.44* -4.12* -2.68 -286.11% Albania -5.22* 21.95* 16.73* - Note: †p £ 0.1, *p £ 0.05.

These results tell a clearer story and provide stronger support for Hypotheses 3.5 and

3.6 Among the ten major contributors, two – Senegal and Poland – exhibit changes from declining military expenditure to growing expenditure after democratization. Of the

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remaining eight countries, five – Bangladesh, Ghana, Kenya, Indonesia, and Benin – increase the rate of growth post-democratization at statistically significant levels. Three countries –

South Africa, Malaysia, and Zambia – exhibit a reduction in growth, but none of these are statistically significant. Therefore, none of the large contributor cases provides evidence against Hypothesis 3.5.

The results for the small contributors are less conclusive. Taiwan moves from sharp spending growth to sharp reductions post-democratization, as hypothesized. Honduras and

Mexico experience major reductions in growth, although neither is statistically significant.

Burundi, like Taiwan, turns from spending growth to spending reduction, but similarly this is not statistically significant. Guinea-Bissau, Guyana, and Albania provide contrary results to the hypothesis, moving from a reduction in spending pre-democracy to increased spending after. Nicaragua experienced a sharp decrease in military spending just prior to democratization, and very low levels were maintained after the transition. This offers anecdotal, but not statistical support for the hypothesis.

Overall, there is good support stemming from the ITSA tests for Hypothesis 3.5: large troop contributors either see little change in military expenditure after democratization, or in fact have increased levels as peacekeeping revenues go beyond supplementing the budget to actually boosting it. In both the multiple-group tests and the single tests, none of the large contributors exhibit a declining trend in military expenditure after democratization. No such conclusive evidence is found for Hypothesis 3.6, where new democracies that do not engage heavily in peacekeeping may experience a reduction in military spending, but may also show no, or even positive change. Multiple factors could explain this. New democracies experiencing economic growth may desire to establish a strong military where it was absent previously, either for national defense or participation in other non-UN military ventures, such as NATO missions. For example, Georgia made minimal contributions to UNPKOs after

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democratization, but gave five to ten times more peacekeepers to non-UN missions including

ISAF in Afghanistan and EUFOR in Chad (Visoka, 2014). Similarly, in cases where spending does not decrease, it may be that military expenditure was low prior to democratization, and therefore there was little need, or public pressure, to divert funding to other purposes.

Another explanation challenges an assumption of Hypothesis 3.6: that new democracies facing pressure to divert military funding to social spending will actually do so.

The ten cases of small UNPKO contributors may indeed have faced such pressure, but opted instead to sustain the military despite opposition to doing so. While my theory suggests these are the states least likely to consolidate democracy, it does not preclude them from overlooking pressure to redistribute spending, and thereby lead to results like those found above. Guinea Bissau is an example of this. Despite democratizing in 2005, military expenditure continued its sharp increasing trend that began around 2002. By 2011, this amount was almost seven times that of a decade earlier. Meanwhile, GDP was only two times greater. Rather than being a result of financial boost received from peacekeeping contributions, the increase in military spending was largely a result of excessive military involvement in political decision making. When reform of the military was proposed in 2011, the conditions were ripe for intervention. An attempted coup in 2011 resulted in failure, but was followed by a successful coup in 2012. This therefore serves as an example of the failure to address the military in the early years of democracy, where it would otherwise have resulted in either increased involvement in UNPKOs or a reduction in the defense budget.

Other explanations for the mixed results of the small contributors may relate to the data and testing methods. First, some countries have very sporadic military expenditure, which therefore does not exhibit trends capable of being captured in ITSA’s OLS regression model. Moreover, the relatively narrow time-series makes identification of statistically significant trends challenging, particularly where there is a small number of observations

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either before or after the treatment is administered. There are therefore a number of reasons why there is inconclusive support for the second hypothesis that warrants further investigation.

3.7 Conclusion

I have argued that engaging the military in external peacekeeping missions can help mitigate a number of problems faced by new democracies as they seek to build institutional strength and legitimacy. Although military coups have been a primary threat to democratic consolidation in past decades, international engagement of the military can provide a credible commitment in the immediate term that reduces the sense of disenfranchisement brought on by losing political influence, resources, and freedom to wield power in the domestic sphere.

The many benefits of participating in UN peacekeeping, including removing the military from public matters, providing it with a substantial and indefinite revenue stream, and satisfying its desire to act as a military, may play a significant role in fending off military opposition to democracy in the early years of transition. These varied benefits have therefore served as a primary incentive for new democracies to contribute to UN peacekeeping in large numbers.

Yet cases such as Fiji highlight the risk of narrowly focusing on short-term solutions rather than addressing the underlying problems that are being only temporarily resolved through UNPKO involvement. A military exposed to advanced training techniques and state- building activities, increasing its coffers through UN remunerations, and encouraged to become a stronger, autonomous institution may be more of a problem for the fledgling democratic government down the road. It is therefore critical that governments look past the short-sighted benefits of diverting the military and consider what role peacekeeping might play in fundamentally reorienting civil-military relations to promote sustainable democratic

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governance. This did not occur in Fiji, and the downfall of the democratic government was rapidly advanced by a highly-organized military with little desire to be subordinated to a civilian government.

In the next two chapters, I consider the necessary steps for a newly democratic government engaged in peacekeeping and seeking to consolidate its institutional governance.

Beyond the short-term benefits outlined in this chapter, certain strategic decisions regarding peacekeeping engagement can maximize the likelihood that the military will become a subordinate entity and will support, rather than hinder, the path to effective democracy.

This, however, simultaneously requires action at the domestic level to ensure that the military does not become a political pawn, or is empowered in such a way that it sees itself as the rightful solution to domestic problems. In short, the success of democracy in the face of an empowered military is far from decided when peacekeeping is embraced. While the short-term benefits are likely a necessary step towards stable democracy, they are far from sufficient.

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CHAPTER 4

SOCIALIZING THE PEACEKEEPERS: THE ADOPTION OF DEMOCRATIC NORMS THROUGH PEACEKEEPING SERVICE

4.1 Introduction

While sending the military to peacekeeping missions may serve certain short-term purposes for states – and new democracies in particular – such activity does not guarantee that democratic institutions will be strengthened as a result. In fact, not only might peacekeeping fail to reduce the threat of the military to political stability, it could in fact increase such a threat if the result of peacekeeping involvement is a military with increased resources and a heightened sense of efficacy (Levin et al. 2016). Strategies to mitigate the threat of the military must therefore go beyond narrow and short-term incentives, and instead seek to fundamentally reconfigure civil-military relations in a way that incorporates the military into a stable democratic order. Peacekeeping offers an array of benefits for fulfilling this task. However, the positive effect of peacekeeping service on the military is not deterministic. In this chapter and the next, I outline how the deployment of peacekeepers to specific missions, and their subsequent experiences in the field, can orient individual soldiers, and military institutions collectively, towards democracy. As such, we should expect to see newly democratic governments deploying military personnel to those missions that offer the greatest likelihood of having this positive effect. In this chapter, I consider the socialization

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of peacekeepers to democratic norms through both the exposure to liberal internationalist values, as well as interaction with peacekeepers from strong democracies. Empirical analysis indicates that newly democratic governments send peacekeepers in greater number to missions with more peacekeepers from strong democracies, but the effect is not present when counting only those peacekeepers coming from a democracies of varying strength.

4.2 The need for long-term military transformation

The Pacific island country of Fiji serves as an example of how narrowly focusing on short-term placation of the military can ultimately pose major threats for democratic stability, and how the failure to integrate the military into the political order ultimately led to its demise. Fiji emerged from British colonial rule into independence in 1970 as a largely stable democracy. Between 1970 and 1987, it held five general elections which were unusually free and fair in comparison to other developing countries (Scobell 1994, 189).

Having no domestic instability or external threats with which to be concerned, it sustained only minimal armed forces of one 900-person battalion (190). However, Fiji possessed a deep history of military activity that was a great source of pride to its people. 11,000 Fijians served in World War II as part of American, British, Australian, and New Zealand units, many of whom received high honors for their participation (188). Service with and training under these countries continued after World War II. It is within this context of military service that

Fiji became a contributor to UN peacekeeping operations, beginning with deployment to the

United Nations Interim Force in Lebanon (UNIFIL) in 1978.17 It saw such involvement as a natural extension of its culture, and also a means to gain prestige in the global community

17 Levin et al. (2016) appear to overlook this important context, suggesting instead that the rapid growth of the military was due more to its mercenary nature in seeking the direct benefits of peacekeeping such as income and training.

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(190). This involvement would lead to the rapid expansion of the armed forces as further deployments were made to Egypt, Somalia, Cambodia, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Kuwait,

Sudan, and Iraq (Baledrokadroka 2012, 107). Within only two years of joining UNIFIL, a second battalion was added and the defense budget had almost tripled (190) (see Figure 4.1).

Figure 4.1: Military expenditure in Fiji, 1970-2012.

By the time Fiji experienced its first coup in 1987, the Royal Fijian Military Force’s (RFMF) had grown to approximately 6,000 personnel or 1% of the population, far exceeding the proportions in countries like Australia and New Zealand (Levin et al. 2016, 119). When a surprise election victory was claimed by an opposition coalition in 1987, the military came to fear the incoming government’s overt anti-military tendencies. A central tenet of the

Coalition’s platform was a non-aligned foreign policy, which would lead to substantial reductions in peacekeeping contributions and major cutbacks in the size and resources of the

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military (Scobell 1994, 191). These fears, along with the perception that the new government would draw the armed forces into a major ethnic conflict and collapse altogether, led to the

1987 coup. While a semblance of democracy would reappear soon after, the failure of the government and military to reform civil-military relations would lead to additional coups in

2000 and 2006, during which time peacekeeping contributions would plummet from the peak of 9,277 personnel in 2000 to only 564 in 2005.

Two lessons emerge from the Fiji case. First is the inherent risk of weakening a military that has enjoyed a large degree of status and activity in the past. Although this case does not involve a prior military legacy, it illustrates the risks associated with a democratic government’s attempt to rapidly and substantially divert resources away from the military, which was addressed in Chapter 3. Second, this case reflects the potential risks of making large contributions to peacekeeping without strategic decision making by the state regarding the perceived effect of peacekeeping activity on the military. The analysis in Chapter 3 indicated that many large contributors not only maintain their military budgets after democratization with the help of UN remunerations, but actually experience significant increases in military spending through such participation. While this may be innocuous in states where civil-military relations have been sufficiently reshaped to support democracy and such increased revenues are used for purposes other than militarization, cases may exist where the increasing capacity of the military outstrips that of the civilian government, leading to an imbalance that may encourage military interference in politics. More broadly, this example illustrates the risk that peacekeeping can pose to democratic stability if not used properly by the state. Sustaining and placating the military therefore may not be enough if the state seeks to embed democracy for the longer term. Relying on peacekeeping to merely remove the military from the domestic sphere is akin to kicking a can down the road and only delays the likelihood of military interference in government activities until

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they return home. Going one step further and relying on peacekeeping as a source of finance for the military has at least a placating effect, but makes the state no different to an autocrat who uses side-payments to fend off a military coup. Such a tentative arrangement is liable to collapse in a moment if the peacekeeping arrangement ceases, as occurred in Fiji, since the military will have lost its source of incentivization and no lasting orientation towards democratic governance will have been cultivated. Moreover, the threat posed by the military may even be greater than if it hadn’t received experience in peacekeeping, since it will have become a better trained and more confident enterprise. The ideal for new democracies, then, is that peacekeeping will form part of a broader process of reorienting the military towards a democratic model of civil-military relations, while integrating it effectively into a stable democratic system. Such a lasting process will go beyond merely staving off latent military threats to neutralizing them altogether.

In the next two chapters, I argue that new democracies use peacekeeping to effect such a change within the military. This occurs through a twofold process: the bottom-up socialization of military personnel, and the top-down professionalization of the military as an arm of the state. Peacekeeping offers a number of socialization and professionalization benefits, including exposure to UN norms and procedures, interaction with democratic militaries, and undertaking tasks that reinforce the ethos of a democratic military. However, since peacekeeping missions exhibit variation in these factors, states will strategically deploy to certain missions, namely those most likely to positively shift the military’s orientation towards a democratic model of civil-military relations. Beyond just the effects incurred during deployment, successful integration of the military into a democratic polity will simultaneously rely on the new regime’s domestic policy towards the military, as well as its capacity to overcome domestic pressures that might lead to coup activity. The absence of one or both – strategic deployment to peacekeeping and civil-military strategy at home – may

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lead to the presence of a military either unreformed by peacekeeping, or else emboldened by it and likely to overthrow a government it perceives as being ineffective.18

In this chapter, I argue that governments of new democracies will deploy their militaries to peacekeeping missions that will more likely socialize them to democratic norms and values. Specifically, this includes missions where they serve alongside more peacekeepers from established democracies. I test these arguments using data on the nationality of peacekeepers deployed from other countries in a given mission and year, constructing a new measure of the democratic-ness of a mission’s “democratic-ness” in a given year. The results indicate that while new democracies’ contribution decisions are not affected by the number of other peacekeepers from democratic countries broadly conceived, the they do send more peacekeepers to missions where there is a greater presence of other peacekeepers from countries considered “strong” democracies.

This chapter makes a number of important contributions. First, it seeks to reconcile disparate findings regarding the effect of peacekeeping on deployed militaries, and their subsequent impact on democracy at home. While the theory of “democratic diversionary peacekeeping” (Cunliffe 2013, 2018; Sotomayor 2002) is theoretically appealing and offers a number of positive findings (Norden 1995; Worboys 2007; Murthy 2007; Aning 2007; Avezov

2014; Zaman and Biswas 2014), notable exceptions have been identified to suggest that peacekeeping participation does not invariably have a positive effect for democratization in the sending country (Sotomayor 2014; Dwyer 2015; Levin et al. 2016; Cunliffe 2018). These contrary outcomes suggest there are likely more nuanced explanations undergirding the effects of peacekeeping. I attempt to reconcile these findings by offering an explanation that

18 Although Lundgren (2018) finds evidence against this outcome, the cases of Brazil and Fiji suggest conditions can exist that incite the praetorian intervention of the military after peacekeeping involvement.

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considers both variation within the peacekeeping mission and at the domestic level in order to better understand the conditions under which peacekeeping is good for democracy in contributing countries.

This study also contributes to the relatively sparse literature concerned with the effects of peacekeeping on contributing countries. Cunliffe (2018, 219) laments: “While there has been plenty of literature discussing the effects of peacekeeping on the countries in which peacekeepers are deployed, the effects of prolonged and repeated peacekeeping on the countries deploying the peacekeepers have been almost entirely ignored.” Little has been done in recent years to understand how peacekeeping service affects the overwhelming number of soldiers from developing countries, despite the plentiful opportunity to build on the seminal, but increasingly outdated, observations of Moskos (1976) and others.

At the broader level, many questions remain about how involvement in peacekeeping helps countries in their foreign and defense policy, economic development, and, perhaps most obviously, their civil-military relations. Regarding the last of these, peacekeeping is an important element of today’s civil-military relations for many countries. As of October 2018, there were more than 103,000 peacekeepers deployed worldwide from 124 countries, three quarters of which consist of uniformed military personnel (United Nations 2018e). Cunliffe

(2018, 219) reports that UN peacekeepers now exceed the number of United States personnel deployed to combat zones. Peacekeeping has become a central policy tool, whether domestic or foreign, for states, and subsequently bears implications for civil-military relations. The study of civil-military relations itself is at something of a crossroads, with an unresolved debate lingering over how to most effectively incorporate a military into a civilian-led society

(Huntington 1957; Janowitz 1960; Schiff 1995; Feaver 1996). This chapter will help clarify this unresolved issue.

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Lastly, this analysis has implications for the broader literature on peacekeeping contributions and mission configuration. Despite growing research on the composition of peacekeeping outfits (Beardsley 2011; Hultman et al. 2013, 2014; Bove and Ruggeri 2015;

Ward and Dorussen 2016), little consideration has been given to how contributing militaries interact with one another in the field. Most studies of contributor interaction address burden- sharing and free riding behavior among contributors (Bobrow and Boyer 1997; Khanna et al.

1998, 1999; Shimizu and Sandler 2002; Gaibulloev et al. 2009, 2015; Passmore et al. 2018).

Ward and Dorussen (2016) address network similarity and find that states will make larger contributions to missions where other contributors have similar foreign policy preferences.

Bove and Ruggeri (2015) address network dissimilarity, finding that greater national diversity among contributors leads to reduced violence against civilians, supposedly through specialization of tasks. These studies notwithstanding, much remains unknown about how the composition of a mission’s contributor network plays a role in decisions to join that network or how that network affects specific mission outcomes. Moreover, no cross-national, large-n study has considered the effects of military interaction dynamics on peacekeepers.

Addressing these gaps in the literature, this study offers insights both on domestic factors that influence peacekeeping involvement (and specifically state incentives to alter the balance of civil-military relations), as well as the impact that the network of state contributors and the tasks undertaken in the mission might have on decisions to contribute.

4.3 Peacekeeping’s effect on the military

Without doubt, a major incentive of states in sending their military personnel to serve in UN peacekeeping missions is that they will adopt norms that will not only make them more democratic soldiers, but that, in the aggregate, will fundamentally shift the orientation

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of the military to make it less of a threat to democratic governance. The belief is that by exposure to the various cosmopolitan and democratic norms evinced by UN peacekeeping, militaries will be inwardly reformed into a force that supports rather than hinders or threatens civilian political institutions at home. This occurs through peacekeeping’s promotion of such principles as political impartiality, the limited use of force, respect for human rights and the rule of law, and subordination to civilian authority, among others

(Cunliffe 2013, 180).

The question of how to pursue this orientation comes down to two questions: first, what should a democratic military believe regarding its role and purpose. In other words, what values ought to be held by the military institution in order to shape its self-perception as a complementary part of democratic society? Second, what should a democratic military do? What should be the functional role of a military in a democratic society to most effectively support political stability and reduce the usurpation of civil authorities by the military?

While these two ideas are clearly related, they bear distinct differences that are worthy of addressing. In this chapter, I consider the former as the process, which I refer to as socialization, while in Chapter 5, I consider the latter, which I term professionalization.

A multitude of examples illustrate the positive effects of peacekeeping on the militaries of nascent democracies, including Argentina (Nordas 1995; Worboys 2007),

Bangladesh (Murthy 2007; Zaman and Biswas 2014), Ghana (Aning 2007), and Sri Lanka

(Avezov 2014). For example, Avezov (2014, 267) argues that the Sri Lankan government views UN peacekeeping as a way to socialize the military to norms of international humanitarian law, and even reinforced its commitment to peacekeeping when the UN reported its violation of such laws in its dealing with the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam.

Similarly, Worboys (2007, 150) states that peacekeeping involvement “served as a key element in establishing civilian control over the armed forces in Argentina,” and helped to

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“create an entirely new identity for the armed forces.” Although some of these arguments posit that peacekeeping reduces the threat of the military by offering it ongoing instrumental benefits through participation (e.g. Lundgren 2018), most qualitative accounts of positive contributor experiences include some form of reorientation of the military to bring it under civilian control. In other words, the evidence suggests that militaries undergo a degree of positive change that makes their incorporation into a democratic system much more likely to be successful in the long run.

Yet, while a broad literature has attested to the positive impact of peacekeeping participation, leading to what has become known as the democratic diversionary peacekeeping theory, a number of studies has found that participation may in fact have deleterious effects for democracy. This may occur by strengthening the military to create an imbalance of power (Levin et al. 2016), fomenting economic grievances within the military

(Dwyer 2015), or by reinforcing the military’s praetorian tendencies and sending it home with a renewed sense of responsibility to its country, paired with improved training and professionalism (Cunliffe 2018). In the case of Fiji, an unstable government was overthrown by a military that had grown in size and political influence almost exclusively due to its involvement in UN peacekeeping. Other accounts include peacekeeping’s amplification of the military’s praetorian tendency in Brazil (Cunliffe 2013, 179-82), or of the rift between soldiers and diplomats in Uruguay (Sotomayor 2014).

In trying to understand why some democratizing governments benefit and others pay a price for peacekeeping participation, it is necessary to investigate whether peacekeeping can in fact have a negative effect on the military directly, or alternately, if the problems stem from the sending government’s failure to leverage this change to the benefit of the civilian government. Ultimately, it could also be some combination of both. The current research on this matter is insufficient for making such a determination. Existing studies are

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overwhelmingly qualitative (Norden 1995; Johanssen 1997; Miller 1997; Reed & Segal 2000;

Aning 2007; Worboys 2007; Sotomayor 2013; Zaman and Biswas 2014; Dwyer 2015; Levin et al. 2016). The only known cross-national, quantitative study is that of Lundgren (2018), who finds that military incentives for peacekeeping payments can deter them from engaging in coup activity. Of these studies, multiple mechanisms have been offered to explain changes in military through peacekeeping, including socialization, professionalization, positive or negative experiences, financial incentives, and grievance formation (such as not getting paid or comparing their situation to that of soldiers from other countries). The variety of explanations packed into a small number of case studies therefore leaves little systematic causal evidence upon which to base an understanding of the role played by peacekeeping in civil-military relations. Moreover, little attention has been paid to domestic political decisions beyond that to deploy to peacekeeping, such as whether deployment is strategic to seek out particular socializing and professionalizing effects, or how the domestic role of the military is reformed by the civilian institutions during peacekeeping deployment. I attempt to strengthen this research endeavor by developing a theory of clear causal pathways, and by conducting cross-national time-series analysis in order to identify systemic effects across missions, contributors, and time. Specifically, I argue that states deploy soldiers to peacekeeping missions with a degree of strategy, seeking to optimize positive socialization and professionalization.

4.3.1 Strategic Deployment

Since there appears to be variation in the extent to which peacekeeping positively affects the military of a sending country, it is likely that such variation is caused by differences in the structure or function of specific missions. It is well understood that all

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peacekeeping missions are not alike, where some have limited goals such as overseeing the implementation of a peace agreement, ranging all the way to directly intervening in a conflict zone. Some missions have narrow military tasks such as enforcing a separation line between combatants, while others are more multidimensional in nature and involve peacekeepers in more socially-oriented tasks. Missions are also diverse in their peacekeeping composition, both in terms of the size of the deployed force and from where they are sent. Since such great variation exists across missions, it stands to reason that contributing countries might be selective in their deployments, strategically seeking out missions that have certain qualities or offer specific benefits. There is strong support in existing studies for the idea of strategic deployment. For example, contributions tend to be influenced by political or military alliances with the conflict state (Fortna 2008), colonial links (Gilligan and Stedman 2003), a shared border (Bove and Elia 2011), the threat of refugee inflows (Uzonyi 2015), or economic interests that may be jeopardized (Gaibulloev et al. 2009; Passmore et al. 2018). However, little consideration has been given to strategic deployment for domestic political purposes, much less socialization and professionalization of the military. Studies concerned with such matters look only at overall annual deployments of peacekeepers rather than the specific missions to which they are sent (Kathman and Melin 2017; Lundgren 2018), overlooking the fact that missions exhibit great variation. Only Sotomayor (2014) appears to have broached this subject at the mission level, positing that in the cases of Argentina, Brazil, and Uruguay, different socialization patterns emerged due to the type of mission each country deployed to.

Yet even here, there is no conjecture that such deployment was strategic. I therefore offer a novel empirical assessment of strategic deployment to peacekeeping, arguing that democratizing governments send to specific types of mission in order to reap the benefits of socialization and professionalization of the military.

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Regarding socialization, missions with a positive socialization effect will be those that most closely reflect the internationalist and cosmopolitan norms of UN peacekeeping, including consent of the parties, impartiality, and the limited use of force (United Nations

2018d). While such values are consistent across all UN missions given the commonality of

UN influence, these values are likely to be most effectively enforced in missions with a greater presence of peacekeepers from strong, stable democracies, who can serve to transfer these and other democratic norms through interaction with the weakly democratic militaries.

4.4 Two mechanisms of socialization

UN peacekeeping operations provide a complex environment that expose military personnel, and particularly those from developing countries with weak political institutions, to a broad category of experiences that they will have not encountered, and that will run counter to their training and professional mentality in many cases. Peacekeepers are exposed to norms of internationalism, subordination to and cooperation with civilian authorities, restrained use of force, political neutrality, respect for human and civil rights, and a host of others. Below, I outline not only the various norms embodied in UN peacekeeping, but also the specific ways in which they are adopted by peacekeepers, and their subsequent effects with regard to democratic behavior. The two primary socialization mechanisms by which these norms are adopted are through the participation in the UN system itself and through exposure to militaries from established democracies.

4.4.1 Socialization to UN norms

Socialization is defined by Bearce & Bondanella (2007) as “the process by which actors acquire different identities, leading to new interests through regular and sustained

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interactions within broader social contexts and structures” (706). True socialization, whereby norms and behaviors are internalized and preferences altered, is typically differentiated from superficial changes in behavior in response to perceived rewards and punishments

(Finnemore & Sikkink 1998; Johnston 2001). The former involves a change in the actors’ interests through incorporation of information provided by the group, with adoption depending on factors such as the content of the message, the reputation of the persuader, and the relationship between persuader and persuadee (Johnston 2001:496-97). Through exposure to UN norms, non-democratic peacekeepers may show changes in behavior due merely to conformity, a process Johnston (2001) refers to as social influence. This change would be driven by the distribution of social rewards, such as the sense of well-being that results from conformity to an expected role, and punishments such as shaming, excluding, or a sense of dissonance resulting from acting inconsistently with the expected role (499). This form of socialization is beneficial for the mission as behavior conforms to peacekeeping’s norms, and may indeed lead to internalization down the road, but offers no promises of long- term changes in the interests of the soldier. The sending state would rather hope that the soldiers are persuaded by the norms and ideas to which they are exposed, internalizing them and promising longer-term socialization – private acceptance in addition to public conformity

(Johnston 2001:499). March & Olsen (1989) refer to this behavior as the “logic of appropriateness”, whereby actors “internalize roles and rules as scripts to which they conform, not for instrumental reasons – to get what they want – but because they understand the behavior to be good, desirable, and appropriate” (Finnemore & Sikkink 1996:912).

The environment of UN peacekeeping, having developed in a context of impartial intervention and conflict mitigation, is ideal for the transmission of pro-democracy civil- military norms to countries’ militaries. The massive scale and devastation of World War II ushered in a global mandate to procure a more peaceful international environment. The

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peaceful resolution of disputes between states gradually became a global norm that was supported by, and reinforced the legitimacy of, the United Nations and its primary goal to

“maintain international peace and security” (UN Charter, Preamble). As the scourge of war was gradually replaced with broad institutional cooperation and widespread interdependence, many states were forced to redefine the purpose of their militaries, which would no longer engage in war and conquest, but would instead be charged with participating in a movement towards global nonviolence. The military establishment, in the absence of external threats, would have to divest itself of a distinctly nationalistic identity and instead accede to notions of internationalism; violence would be replaced with keeping the peace; victory replaced with restraint and impartiality. Moskos, Williams, and Segal (2000) termed this the rise of the “postmodern military,” where missions would become non-military in the traditional sense. Instead, engagement would largely be redirected to international peace operations with vastly different purposes and rules of engagement, what Janowitz (1960) would term “constabulary missions,” whereby militaries would be continuously prepared to act, committed to a minimal use of force, and seeking viable interstate relations over victory

(418).

Soldiers, meanwhile, would require drastically new orientations than those developed by their traditional training. As Moskos (1976) writes:

He goes on to add that the postmodern soldier, “requires internationalist identification, proficiency in noncoercive measures, and performance of mission in an impartial cause” (10), and “favors persuasion over punishment, compromise over capitulation, and perseverance over conquest” (132).

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Surveys conducted with soldiers over the years reveal the reality of the constabulary ethic being adopted by the soldiers of these postmodern militaries. Moskos’ (1976) found a strong constabulary ethic among soldiers serving in the UNFICYP mission in Cyprus, while contributor-specific studies found similar trends for soldiers from the United States (Miller and Moskos 1995; Reed & Segal 2000), Sweden (Johansson 1997), and Italy (Battistelli 1997).

Reed and Segal’s (2000) study of American soldiers serving in operational deployments reports that, “[M]ost soldiers seem to accept the basic norms of peacekeeping,” and

“understand the importance of restraint and impartiality” (74-75).

As in these and other cases, conscription into the new world order of military conduct would largely manifest through participation in United Nations peacekeeping operations, which grew both in size and frequency over the post-war decades. With its bedrock principles of impartiality, consent of the parties, and minimal use of violence, peacekeeping missions created epistemic communities of sorts, where the emerging norms of global peace and internationalism could be refined and diffused among participating actors.

Since peacekeeping before the 1990s was largely restricted to wealthy democracies that had few security threats, the evolution of the postmodern military was largely restricted to these countries. By the time developing countries became significant personnel contributors in the post-Cold War years, the norms of internationalism and postmodernism within peacekeeping were firmly established. Without doubt, peacekeeping missions would provide a fertile environment for militaries disinclined towards these norms to be socialized into them. This would inevitably prove very attractive to transitional democracies in their pursuit of consolidating legitimacy and reducing the threat posed by a disenfranchised military whose orientation was one of nationalism, political status, and victory.

While the next section considers the role of other democracies in socializing peacekeepers to democratic civil-military norms, features of the peacekeeping environment

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have a socialization effect devoid of the additional impact of others who are present.

Peacekeepers are exposed to a mentality of internationalism over nationalism, which requires subordination and loyalty to supranational political institutions and leaders from other countries, as well as cooperation with foreign – and perhaps even adversarial – militaries (Moskos 1975, 106). Peacekeeping operations also promote diplomacy over combat, impartiality over victory, and a role as pacifier rather than aggressor (Worboys 2007, 151).

Zaman and Biswas (2014, 338) recount the words of a senior officer in the Bangladeshi army regarding the effect of the UN’s central values on soldiers: “Bangladeshi troops serving under the UN flag operate under UN values of consent, impartiality, and non-use of force except in self-defense. Such norms… have been imbibed by Bangladeshi peacekeepers and they are thus encouraged to uphold these same democratic values back home.” He continues,

“[E]xposure to peacekeeping operations enables members of the armed forces to realize civilian control over the military is a norm accepted by the international community and that

Bangladesh should not be an exception to this practice.”

Much of this socialization is imparted through pre-deployment and ongoing training that is provided to peacekeepers, as well as daily operational experiences. Although pre- deployment training of peacekeepers is the responsibility of the contributing country and not the UN, the Department of Peacekeeping Operations does provide materials and guidance for this training, and sets out the minimum acceptable standards for entry into the operating environment.19 The Core Pre-deployment Training Materials given to contributors include such elements as a strategic overview of the UN, the purpose and function of UN

Peacekeeping, effective mandate implementation, and the standards, values, and safety of

UN personnel (United Nations 2012, 173). The UN guidelines project that pre-deployment

19 For examples, see the United Nations Infantry Battalion Manual (2012), The Policy on Support to Military and Police Pre-deployment Training for UN Peacekeeping Operations (2009).

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training should take approximately three months. While the delegation of training to contributing countries inevitably leads to varied quality of training, contributors are aware of the minimum standards and will often outsource this training to more experienced contributors. The United States, the United Kingdom, France, and Canada have all created training programs for foreign peacekeepers (Dwyer 2015, 218). Upon deployment to the mission, all peacekeepers undergo UN-led induction training. For an infantry battalion deployed to the mission, this training lasts between one and two weeks. Additionally, ongoing training is proposed to cover such areas as maintenance of standards or remedial training

(United Nations 2012, 170-71).

While training of peacekeepers may play an important socialization role, it likely is not the sole source of norm diffusion. Only in recent years has training become a more consistent and established component of the UNDPKO, where previously there was less guidance and pre-deployment training in particular was subject to great variation in quality

(Findlay 1996, 16). Despite this variation, Moskos (1976), finds that adoption of the constabulary ethic was largely uniform across national contingents serving in the UNFICYP mission. He surmises that, “[I]nformal learning arising out of the field situation was a more determining factor in forging the constabulary ethic than was peacekeeping training prior to arrival in Cyprus” (95). Indeed, the everyday operations of a peacekeeping mission expose soldiers to norms central to a democratic ethos. Merely serving alongside other militaries

(democratic or not) can help break down nationalistic tendencies in favor of more internationalist and cosmopolitan ones. Peacekeepers must also serve under leaders from other countries, challenging their nationalist tendencies and singular loyalties (Worboys

2007, 156). Lastly, the heavy involvement of civilian agents and the complex bureaucracy of peacekeeping forces soldiers to cooperate with non-military entities and subordinate themselves to civilian decision making. While day-to-day operational command structures

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for troop contingents are headed up by military leaders, the role of Head of Mission is assigned to a civilian (United Nations 2012, 55). This gives the peacekeepers experience in being ultimately led by, and accountable to, civilian authorities.

Taken together, these norms promote the transformation of militaries, both at the individual and ultimately the institutional level, to become international constabulary forces with internalized norms of peace over victory, cooperation with non-nationals, and subordination to civilian authorities. These qualities, in addition to the professionalizing effect of peacekeeping to be discussed later, support the process of restructuring a country’s civil-military relations to better support democracy.

4.4.2 Democracies as norm diffusers

The second method of socialization is both complementary to, and also distinct from, socialization to UN-specific norms. Through this mechanism, the militaries of weak democracies are socialized to democratic civil-military norms through exposure to, and interaction with, militaries from established democracies. This complements the above mechanism since it is established democracies that have greater peacekeeping experience from decades of involvement, and therefore, having internalized the UN’s norms of internationalism and the postmodern military, serve subsequently as diffusers of those norms to new contributors. Additionally, the democratic militaries play a socializing role distinct from the environment of UN norms, simply by transmitting to the new generation of peacekeepers an image of what a democratic soldier looks like, including deference to civilian authority, respect for the rule of law, and upholding human and civil rights. Therefore, devoid of any peacekeeping experience, established democracies would still serve to influence non-

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democratic militaries since their attitudes at the individual level, and orientation at the organizational level, reflect democratic norms.

First, democracies serve as the primary diffusers of UN norms within peacekeeping missions, due largely to the way peacekeeping has evolved over the years. In the early decades of peacekeeping, the UN sought capable military contingents from developed countries to procure peace. These countries, overwhelmingly democracies, found this to be mutually beneficial, since peacekeeping provided a platform to facilitate the shift of its military to one of a “postmodern” nature. For them, the distinct lack of security threats after

World War II necessitated the repurposing of the military lest it become redundant.

Unsurprisingly, then, participation in the early decades of peacekeeping was largely undertaken by “middle powers”: strongly democratic states not engaged in a major rivalry or pursuing unilateral interventionist policies. Much of the burden for early missions was carried by such states as Austria, Canada, Denmark, Finland, Ireland, Norway, and Sweden

(Moskos 1976:26). The UN actively sought out such states for participation in lieu of the great powers or non-democratic members. The early work of Secretary-General Dag Hammarskjöld and Nobel Peace Prize winning Canadian diplomat Lester Pearson in constructing the UN peacekeeping framework encouraged middle powers to ‘earmark’ military personnel for UN missions (Moskos 1976:26). Major powers such as the United States, Great Britain, and

France, would become significant contributors in later years, but largely in a selective manner that sought to protect vital interests. Regardless, until the end of the Cold War, personnel contribution to UN missions came overwhelmingly from the democracies of the world. The top ten contributors in 1990 included Canada, Norway, Finland, Austria, Ireland,

Sweden, and the United Kingdom (United Nations 1990).20 Meanwhile, Findlay (1996, 4-6)

20 Country-level contributor data is not available for years before 1990.

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identifies 49 states that became first-time contributors after 1989, representing the new wave of peacekeepers joining the established democracies in the field (see Table 4.1).

Table 4.1 First-time contributors of personnel to UN peacekeeping missions after 1989.

Albania (1994) El Salvador (1995) Namibia (1992) Algeria (1991) Estonia (1995) Niger (1994) Barbados (1989) Germany (1991) Romania (1991) Botswana (1993) Greece (1989) Russian Federation (1991) Brunei Darussalam (1992) Guatemala (1994) Saudi Arabia (1993) Bulgaria (1992) Guinea-Bissau (1991) Singapore (1989) Cameroon (1992) Guyana (1989) Slovakia (1993) Cape Verde (1993) Honduras (1991) Spain (1989) Chad (1994) Jamaica (1989) Switzerland (1989) China (1989) Japan (1992) Togo (1989) Congo (1989) Jordan (1989) Trinidad and Tobago (1989) Costa Rica (1989) South Korea (1993) Uganda (1993) Cuba (1994) Kuwait (1993) Ukraine (1992) Czechoslovakia (1989) Lithuania (1994) United Arab Emirates (1993) Czech Republic (1993) Luxembourg (1992) Zimbabwe (1991) Djibouti (1994) Malawi (1993) Egypt (1989) Mali (1993)

While stable democracies took on the burden of peacekeeping in its first four decades, developing countries followed a different path. These countries emerged from World War II to face often unstable transitions to independence and widespread internal or regional instabilities that created threats to national security. Such militaries, facing ongoing problems at home, and with some even holding political power, had no immediate need to postmodernize as did the democratic militaries, nor did the UN seek their service. When, in the post-Cold War era, developing states began contributing personnel to UN missions due to increased demand for contributors, established democracies had long since shifted to the constabulary ethic and internalized the norms of the peacekeeping venture. Impartiality and restraint in the field had become the modus operandi, while their domestic roles reflected subordination to civilian governments and respect for the rule of law. It is into these norms, being evinced as they were by strong democracies, that transitional and weak democracies

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would see an opportunity to socialize their own militaries and support the prospect of consolidating democracy at home.

A second way that strong democracies serve to diffuse norms to new democracies, regardless of peacekeeping involvement, is through their own norm adherence. While democracies serving in missions may diffuse the UN-specific norms discussed above due to their longstanding involvement in peacekeeping, they will likely also expose non-democratic militaries to a democratic model of civil-military relations separate from the UN norms, including respect for human rights and the rule of law, subordination to civilian authorities, and other practices characteristic of democratic institutions. A rich literature has chronicled the contagion effects of democracy, positing diffusion as one of the primary explanations for the democratization of states in recent decades (Starr 1991; Huntington 1991; Markoff 1996;

O’Laughlin et al. 1998; Kadera et al. 2003; Gleditsch & Ward 2006). While mechanisms remain somewhat vague, it is clear that being surrounded by democracies heavily increases the chance that an autocracy will transition to a democracy. Yet while this works for states, can the same be said for the contagion of democracy across individuals or the military as an agent? Most proposed explanations within this literature would suggest yes. These explanations rely on the psychological and sociological ideas foundational to socialization theory, highlighting the importance of individuals and emphasizing behavioral factors such as learning and emulation. For example, states may democratize due to a desire for acceptance in the international community. Similarly, non-democratic militaries serving in a pro-democratic peacekeeping environment may seek the acceptance and legitimization of surrounding actors. Another explanation suggests that democratization may occur when autocratic leaders witness other states doing so with lower costs for the leadership than they feared (Gleditsch & Ward 2006: 920). Likewise, non-democratic militaries fearing reform under a new democratic government may see in their constabulary counterparts benefits to

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serving in a democratized military that they had previously not considered. At the individual level, soldiers may be socialized through the logic of appropriateness to see democracy as the accepted form of stable governance in the modern world, or through a desire to emulate their more experienced and professional counterparts. It seems viable, then, that theories positing the contagion of democracy at the state level might also apply across militaries serving in peacekeeping missions.

Combining these effects – democratic contagion from soldier to soldier and military to military, and the diffusion of UN peacekeeping norms by long-serving democracies – there are therefore two ways in which democratic militaries might influence a shift in perspective and behavior among non-democratic militaries. The question may be asked as to exactly how this influence would occur. Are peacekeepers socialized to democratic norms simply by the company they keep – a sort of osmosis of democracy – or is it a function of a more concerted effort on the part of the democratic soldiers and their leaders? Unfortunately, causal pathways of socialization effects are rather vague. It is difficult to quantify the internalization of norms, much less how the process occurred, and how variation in the norm diffuser and the recipient might effect that signal transmission. In the case of peacekeeping, explicit socialization may occur through democratic militaries’ training of the new generation of peacekeepers. In addition to the adoption of UN norms through training discussed above, this is an ideal opportunity for the diffusion of democratic norms from one military to another.

A number of experienced contributors has taken on the task of training other countries’ militaries for service. For example, Eastern European countries increasing their peacekeeping involvement in recent years have received training from the Nordic countries, while a number of African countries’ peacekeepers have been trained through programs created by the United States, the United Kingdom, and France (Daniel 2011, 547). In its early years as a contributor, Bangladesh received training and funding for its peacekeeping

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development from the United States and United Kingdom (Krishnasamy 2003, 40). Even some states that have used peacekeeping for their own socialization needs have turned to training soldiers from elsewhere, including Argentina (Worboys 2007) and Nepal (Bhattarai

2013).

Beyond training, socialization by democratic militaries occurs in the field, as soldiers serve alongside one another in combined deployments. Unfortunately, little systematic data exist to identify when and how peacekeepers from different countries interact, such as through joint deployment to specific locations or tasks. Bove and Ruggeri (2015) provide the first study investigating the role of national diversity of peacekeepers on a mission’s effectiveness, but look only at the overall composition of the mission. It is therefore unclear to what extent their proposed mechanisms (accountability of one country to others and diversity of skillsets) occur directly through peacekeeper interaction. Ruggeri, Dorussen, and

Gizelis (2016) code data on subnational deployment of UN peacekeepers using geocoded data from DPKO mission reports. However, where this study offers the location data necessary to identify national interaction, it does not measure the deployment at the contributor level and therefore does not identify which peacekeepers are serving in which locations. Accounts of interaction between peacekeepers of different nationalities are therefore limited to specific cases. This dearth of data will inevitably change as new datasets emerge, but as of now, little is understood about when and how peacekeepers from different countries interact.

Despite these limitations, some assumptions can be made about the extent of interaction among peacekeepers from different countries. It is evident, for example, that while national battalions are kept together, they are often deployed to the same location as other contingents. Figure 4.2 shows a deployment map from the MONUSCO mission in the

Democratic Republic of the Congo in 2011. This map clearly identifies the interaction that

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militaries have with one another while deployed, where contingents from multiple countries occupy the same locations.

Figure 4.2: Geographic distribution of peacekeepers in MONUSCO, January 2011 (United Nations 2011).

Second, The UN has clear interests in composing diverse sub-mission forces. For example, Bove and Ruggeri (2015) argue that more nationally diverse mission contingents offer beneficial functional differentiation within missions. More important to the UN, though, might be the mechanisms of mentorship and accountability that result from force diversity.

With an influx of less experienced peacekeeping forces in recent decades, the UN has a vested interest in ensuring that the critical factors of mission credibility and legitimacy are not

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compromised by underperforming, or even misbehaving, peacekeepers. UN peacekeeping has suffered a major setback in credibility in recent years with repeated stories of sexual misconduct, corruption, and other criminal activity among peacekeepers in the field (e.g.

Beber et al. 2017). Deploying peacekeepers from less democratic or less experienced militaries alongside those from democratic and more experienced militaries provides a degree of oversight in peacekeeper conduct. Bove and Ruggeri (2015) suggest this may be the most effective result of nationally diverse peacekeeping forces, where countries can engage in mutual monitoring of peacekeeper conduct. Lastly, there may be a positive effect in the reverse direction, where the less-democratic militaries can positively contribute to mixed deployments with democratic militaries. This is particularly likely if the former come from countries in the same region as the conflict country, where the peacekeepers can better interact with civilians due to similar language and culture, whereas peacekeepers from developed democracies often run into barriers with such issues. Since improving both the efficacy and reputation of peacekeeping is paramount to the UN, it is highly likely to deploy peacekeepers from less democratic countries alongside those from more democratic countries.

4.4 Addressing challenges to the argument

I anticipate several contentions to the arguments laid out above. First, is it important to identify if states are strategic in their deployment? Or should the effect of peacekeeping on the military be the sole focus? There are two reasons to suggest that it is important to consider strategic decision-making in deployment to UNPKOs. The underlying finding in

Chapter 2 suggests that peacekeeping is a tool of new democracies, specifically utilized to support the transition. This study is therefore as interested in the agency of the states involved as it is the outcomes for democracy. The peacekeeping literature has similarly been

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as interested in reasons to participate in peacekeeping as it is in the effects of peacekeeping.

The second reason is that, in seeking to accurately identify if peacekeeping has certain effects on the military, one cannot overlook the non-random assignment of peacekeepers to missions.

To test only the effect of mission involvement on civil-military relations would induce selection bias stemming from the deliberate participation of certain militaries in particular types of mission. This is therefore a two-step process that must be considered fully to accurately understand the phenomenon in question.

Next, is it realistic to believe that any change to deployed peacekeepers, however significant, would have an aggregate effect on the military as an institution? The socialization of individual soldiers does not necessarily mean a broader change in civil-military relations will take place. Moreover, since most countries give only small proportions on their militaries to peacekeeping (only Ghana and Uruguay gave more than 5% annually between 1992 and

2011), how would such a small influence diffuse in a way that would effect change in an entrenched military institution? Addressing the first point, the fact that socialization theory has its basis in psychology and sociology suggests that it is perfectly viable that individual socialization would lead to an aggregated effect on the military overall. Johnston (2001, 507) explains that actors involved in the process of socialization are:

“[L]ocked in tight feedback loops, where small perturbations in the characteristics of agents interacting with each other can have large, nonlinear effects on social structures. Thus it matters how individual agents or small groups are socialized because their impacts on larger emergent properties of the social environment can be quite dramatic.”

Beyers (2005, 900) similarly argues that: “Practices, norms, and preferences are not only internalized by individual actors, but, because they are shared by many, also characterize and shape the identity of larger social aggregates (that is, a bureaucratic agency, a political party, a country, and so on).” Although the fine details and micro-processes of socialization under-theorized (Checkel 1998), a growing empirical record suggests it is not mere optimism

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to assume that the socialization of individuals might have a broader impact on larger entities

(Finnemore 1993; Finnemore & Sikkink 1996; Beyers & Dierickx 1998; Kelley 2004; Beyers

2005; Bearce & Bondanella 2007). Indeed, the majority of existing studies on peacekeeping socialization are concerned with the broader institutional changes within the military (e.g.

Norden 1995; Worboys 2007; Zaman and Biswas 2014; Sotomayor 2014), even where the empirical analysis is at the individual level (Moskos 1976; Reed and Segal 2000).

The second point regarding relatively small national deployments similarly does not pose a major threat to the argument. First, many more military personnel are involved in peacekeeping than the deployment numbers at any given point in time indicate. As detailed in Chapter 3, every deployed peacekeeper represents two at home either recovering from or preparing for an upcoming deployment. Therefore, while only 3.1 per cent of Nepalese soldiers may be deployed at any given time, this indicates that around ten per cent of the standing military is gaining peacekeeping experience in the near term. Moreover, most countries seek to extend opportunities for peacekeeping service broadly throughout the military. Norden (1995, 7) finds that by the mid-1990s, half of Argentina’s permanent military personnel had participated in peacekeeping. Zaman and Biswas (2014, 338) report that most members of the Bangladeshi armed forces have served in a UN peacekeeping mission in some capacity. Unlike the more established militaries of developed nations, which tend to deploy specialist brigades to missions (Worboys 2007, 153), developing countries seem to go to great effort to ensure that the experience of being a peacekeeper is distributed broadly among the troops. Given the seeming inefficiency of such an approach, this further supports the idea that the government is pursuing a socialization effect of deployment rather than simply removing the military from the domestic sphere or seeking financial benefit from participation.

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Another counter to my argument is why we should expect the socialization effect to move in one direction. Is it not highly likely that the process of intersubjective convergence might alter the orientations of democratic militaries through interactions with their non- democratic counterparts? This contention is particularly relevant in light of recent trends where strong democracies have shifted away from contributing personnel to instead offering financial support to the mission. Who is to say that democratic soldiers, who may be outnumbered by those from weak or non-democracies in some instances, will not instead adopt the behaviors of their counterparts? The extent to which this might occur is determined by the environment in question. Two units interacting devoid of a structural environment would be more likely to meet somewhere along the norm spectrum as each actor’s preferences converge towards the other’s. However, greater structure in the form of institutionalized norms would imply actors’ preference would converge to one another and towards the norms reflective of the institutional environment. Often, socialization is thought of as a ‘new kid’ being incorporated into an existing system, and socialized by the agents of that system. As

Johnston (2001) puts it: “Socialization is the generic term used to refer to the process by which the newcomer – the infant, rookie, or trainee, for example – becomes incorporated into organized patters of interaction” (494). Strong democracies serving in missions not only diffuse norms of democratic governance that have been ingrained in their training for decades, but they also reflect the broader norms espoused by peacekeeping as an institution, which have been largely incorporated into global conceptions of what is ‘appropriate’. With democracies acting as agents of such structural norms, socialization theory would dictate that the newcomer – the non-democratic military – would converge towards the existing group, and thus adopt the behaviors and interests desired by its sending state. This argument is additionally supported by the empirical finding that democratic contagion is stronger than autocratic contagion: a state surrounded by democracies is twice as likely to become a

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democracy as a state surrounded by autocracies becoming an autocracy (Gleditsch and Ward

2006, 916).

To address another challenge, it is necessary to show that deployment decisions are made primarily by the civilian government, and not by the military. Were the latter to be true, the military would seek out missions that reinforce existing practices, offer the most benefits, or insulate them from being reformed into a weaker institution. This would mean there would be no strategic action on the part of the civilian leaders (except perhaps to delegate such responsibility to the military as an incentive to remain out of politics). Although it is likely that the military leadership plays some role in such decisions, the task of deploying to UNPKOs is primarily the remit of the state. Pickering and Kisangani’s (2007) discussion of “benevolent diversionary force” supports the idea of strategic deployment, arguing that democracies and mixed regimes select low politics, neutral, and often humanitarian military operations rather than politico-strategic interventions in order to achieve domestic political objectives. Moreover, the existing peacekeeping deployment literature emphasizes state rather than military interests in deployment patterns, such as trade and investment incentives (Gaibulloev et al. 2009; Passmore et al 2018), colonial ties (Gilligan and Stedman

2003), and political alliances (Fortna 2008). Other determinants inevitably affect both the civilian and military institutions, such as refugee inflows (Uzonyi 2015) and military alliances (Fortna 2008), but there is little evidence in this research that deployment ever reflects exclusively military objectives. Evidence from the mission formation process also gives evidence of this. Since the UN system treats states as principles and militaries merely as their agents, negotiations over deployments between the Department of Peacekeeping

Operations and troop-contributing countries typically involves cabinet-level leadership and state representatives to the UN. The final Memorandum of Understanding, outlining the detail regarding a state’s deployment to a mission, must ultimately be approved by the

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country’s Permanent Mission to the United Nations (United Nations 2012, 160-61).

Therefore, while the military may at best be able to influence decisions on where to deploy, there is no reason to suggest that the state does not have sufficient oversight to determine which missions to support.

4.5 Hypotheses

Above, I have argued that new democracies will send peacekeepers in greater number to missions where they will be exposed to greater democratic socialization effects. While all

UN missions espouse values reflective of a democratic military, this diffusion will be more likely where the peacekeepers are exposed to a greater proportion of other peacekeepers from established democracies. These arguments lead to the following hypothesis:

H4.1: A new democracy will make larger troop contributions to UN peacekeeping missions

where a greater proportion of the deployed peacekeepers come from established

democracies.

I also test the possibility that all established democracies are not seen equally as potential sources of socialization. A new democracy may perceive greater benefits from working alongside the strongest democracies, such as the United States, Australia, and Western

European countries, rather than established democracies of a weaker democratic caliber, such as Turkey or Colombia, where the military may not have fully adopted democratic norms itself. I therefore test an additional hypothesis where the democratic composition of the deployment network is restricted to only those democracies with a Polity score of 10, which I refer to as strong established democracies. This leads to the following hypothesis:

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H4.2: A new democracy will make larger troop contributions to UN peacekeeping missions

where a greater proportion of the deployed peacekeepers come from strong established

democracies.

4.6 Empirical analyses

I test these hypotheses on three different samples – new democracies, established democracies, and non-democracies – to assess how the perceived exposure to democracy within the mission affects contribution numbers in each type of state. As in previous chapters, my sample consists of contributions to all available UNPKOs from 1992 to 2011. However, since this chapter concerns mission-level contributions by states, the unit of analysis is the contributor-mission-year. This allows for the identification of mission-level covariates beyond just the democratic presence, such as the size, location, and level of violence within the mission. Since I am using the same dependent variable, contribution, I once again employ a zero-inflated negative binomial regression model, with standard errors clustered on the contributor-mission dyad to account for correlated errors.

4.6.1 Independent Variables

Regarding Hypothesis 4.1, a greater opportunity for direct socialization by other soldiers will exist where more soldiers from established democracies are present. Therefore, democratizing states will contribute greater numbers of military personnel to missions where the proportion of peacekeepers in the mission from established democracies is higher. Since there is much variation both in the number of countries contributing to a mission at any given time and the regime type from which peacekeepers come, there should be plentiful

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opportunity for selecting missions with more exposure to democratic militaries. The variable democratic network is a continuous measure from 0 to 1 indicating the proportion of total peacekeepers that comes from an established democracy (Polity score of +6 or more for five years or more). I remove the contribution of the observed state to account only for the peacekeepers from other countries. This also addresses endogeneity, where including the country’s contribution in the network score would mean the contribution in year t impacts the network score in t+1. The resulting variable has a mean of 0.614, indicating that the average mission in a given year consists of a majority of peacekeepers from democracies. To test Hypothesis 4.2, the cutoff to be considered a democratic peacekeeper is a Polity score of

+10. The resulting variable, democratic network (strong) has a mean of 0.316, indicating that the average mission in a given year gets around one third of its peacekeeping troops from the strongest democracies. Table 4.2 shows the sample of states considered strong democracies, along with their average monthly peacekeeping contribution to all missions.

It is necessary to address the fact that these measures of the democratic-ness of the peacekeeping contingent do not necessarily lead to direct interaction between democratic and non-democratic peacekeepers. I explained above that there are several reasons why mixed deployment of peacekeepers from different regime types are undertaken by the UN, rather than keeping them separate. In addition, the assumption that soldiers from one regime type will interact with those from another in a given mission is not necessary for the sending state’s strategic decision making. The specific locations to which peacekeepers are deployed is typically not settled until they have been deployed, and often changes. Governments may therefore request that soldiers be deployed to particular locations or alongside specific militaries, but the dynamic nature of location assignments means the state’s decision need only be based on the general composition of the peacekeeping force. This ecological fallacy would only exist with the effect of peacekeeping.

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Table 4.2: Average mission troop contribution of strong established democracies, 1992-2011.

Country Contribution Country Contribution Uruguay 80 Portugal 19 United Kingdom 58 Denmark 19 Italy 50 Sweden 18 Canada 45 Germany 16 United States 35 Japan 12 Austria 33 Slovakia 11 Spain 32 New Zealand 9 Chile 30 Mongolia 8 Ireland 29 Hungary 6 Poland 29 Greece 3 Finland 27 Czech Republic 1 Belgium 26 Switzerland 1 Netherlands 25 Slovenia 1 Norway 24 Luxembourg .25 Australia 24 Lithuania .23

4.6.2 Control Variables

I control for a number of other important factors that might affect the relationship between the primary explanatory variables and a country’s contributions size, or might otherwise account for the contribution. This list is broader than those of Chapters 2 and 3, since the unit of analysis here is the contributor-mission-year rather than mission-year. A number of covariates relating to the specific mission may therefore be controlled for in these tests.

PKO troops is measured as the natural log of the total number of military personnel deployed by other countries in a mission-year. This is an important inclusion, since the network measure does not account for the size of the deployment. Therefore, a network may be completely democratic, but have less than ten peacekeepers deployed. Controlling for the

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number deployed should therefore strengthen the effect of the network score on contributions. Contiguous is a dummy variable that receives a 1 if the contributor and conflict country share a border. Previous findings have determined that border concerns are a strong incentive for peacekeeping involvement (Beardsley 2011; Uzonyi 2015). I choose this over a broader measure of distance or shared region. Blum (2000, 3) challenges the argument that states are more likely to send their peacekeepers to missions within their own region.

Guehenno (2015, 112) further explains how parties to African conflicts have often sought the involvement of non-African countries over their regional compatriots.

I include a count of years since the beginning of the sample to account for any temporal trend in the data. Given the increased inclusion of developing countries in peacekeeping in recent years, there may be an underlying effect of time that must be accounted for. In the logistic equation, I include civilian deaths, a log of the count of civilians killed in the conflict.

This captures the desirability of involvement in the mission for countries, and is therefore included only in the decision to participate, not in the overall size of contribution. Aside from these, I include variables from previous chapters, including log military size – the total number of armed forces possessed by the contributor, the linear and quadratic terms of years since coup, log GDP per capita, global missions, and intrastate conflict. I also include the lagged dependent variable in the count equation and a binary version of this measure in the logit equation. Once again, time varying factors are lagged by one year.

4.6.3 Results and Discussion

The results for Hypothesis 4.1 are shown in Table 4.3. It includes Models tested on each country sample: established democracies, new democracies, and non-democracies. In

Model 1 addressing the sample of established democracies, the relationship between

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Table 4.3: Effect of mission democratic composition on personnel contributions.

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Table 4.4: Effect of strong mission democratic composition on personnel contributions.

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democratic network and contribution is significant at the 0.1 p-value level, offering moderate support for the argument that established democracies tend to send their peacekeepers to missions where the remaining peacekeepers are from established democracies. This makes sense for various reasons. First, some missions that were established decades ago when peacekeeping was predominantly owned by western democracies continue today as longstanding observer or traditional peacekeeping operations. With those countries taking the responsibility for such missions over many years, they become harder for new countries to join, particularly when they are small in number. For example, the UN Military Observer

Group in India and Pakistan (UNMOGIP) was established in 1949, and has consistently had an authorized deployment of less than fifty. These positions have almost exclusively been held by democracies for the life of the mission. Similarly, missions in Europe such as the UN

Observer Mission in Georgia and the UN Mission in Kosovo have largely drawn European and other western countries. This does not appear to suggest that established democracies attempt to crowd out newer democracies or non-democracies, as more established democracies are often pivotal to mission formation decisions and are unlikely to make their commitments contingent on the addition of troops from any other particular country. Rather, it is more likely the remnant of a disappearing phenomenon.

Model 2 shows that new democracies are no more likely to make large contributions where the composition of peacekeepers is more democratic, countering Hypothesis 4.1. While

I expected such countries would seek out these missions, this is not reflected in the findings, where the coefficient is in fact negative but highly insignificant. In Model 3, the same lack of relationship is observed for non-democracies as expected: these states do not seek out more democratic missions for their own military deployments, but neither do they appear to avoid them. The insignificant coefficient for democratic network in the logistic equation (Stage 1)

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indicates that how democratic the network is plays no role in states’ initial decision to participate in a mission prior to deciding its contribution size.

Table 4.4 conducts the same tests but uses the stricter measure of democratic network, considering a democratic peacekeeper only as one coming from a very strong democracy

(Polity score of +10). This adaption produces different results to those previously. No relationship is observed between democratic network and contribution for the established democracies or non-democracies (Models 4 and 6), as expected. This means that while established democracies contribute in greater number to missions with more peacekeepers from other established democracies, they do not make larger contributions where the presence of strongly democratic peacekeepers is greater. Model 5 provides support for

Hypothesis 4.2: new democracies make larger contributions where the composition of remaining peacekeepers come from strong democracies (although this doesn’t impact their decision to participate in that mission in the first place). This result, alongside that with the broader network measure, suggests that if new democracies are seeking out the socializing influence of other peacekeepers, they see greater value in the potential role of peacekeepers from the strongest democracies in the international system, rather than those with some shortcomings. These tend to be countries with a longer, healthier record of democratic militaries and stable civil-military relations.

Figure 4.3 shows the marginal effect of changing the strong democratic composition of the peacekeeping network when holding other covariates at their mean values. The relationship is statistically significant for the range of democratic network values from 0 to

0.8, at which point it ceases to be significant due to very few observations at that end of the range. Increasing the network score by one standard deviation from the mean of 0.33, a country’s contribution to a mission increases from 12 to 19 troops, a 58.3% increase. From another perspective, and increase from the 25th percentile of the network score (0.089) to the

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Figure 4.3: Effect of changes in the strong democratic composition of military peacekeepers on new democracy military contribution size (with 95% confidence interval).

75th percentile (0.532) results in moving from a contribution of 8 troops to 17, more than double the contribution. Although this may seem like a small number in net contribution, the proportion change is large. Moreover, since this only addresses a country’s contribution to a single mission, accounting for multiple missions would indicate a more significant contribution shift. Lastly, although the change appears smaller than those caused by factors in other studies (e.g. Kathman and Melin 2017; Perkins and Neumeyer 2008; Uzonyi 2015) all other studies measure deployments annually rather than monthly.21 Using that methodology here would equate to an increase of around 106 peacekeepers per contributor- mission when moving from the 25th to the 75th percentile. It therefore evident that the

21 As a reminder, my measure of troops deployed is the average monthly deployment in a given year, which addresses the problem of double counting troops that other studies overlook.

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presence of more peacekeepers from strong democracies has a significant impact on a new democracy’s decision to deploy in large numbers to that mission.

These findings therefore provide evidence that new democracies send more peacekeepers to missions where they will interact with troops from other democracies, reflecting a desire for their military personnel to be socialized to democratic norms and behaviors. However, this desired interaction appears to be limited to a certain class of democracies: those with the strongest institutions and a proven history of democratic practice. This finding follows reason, where anecdotal evidence finds that emerging democracies have often sought the influence of countries like the United States, France, and the United Kingdom for their military personnel. It is unlikely that this behavior is merely proxying for some other factor, such as a desire to earn the favor of those countries and other benefits such as foreign aid. As addressed in Chapter 3, contributing to peacekeeping in any manner earns the support of these countries, who find it too costly to send their own troops and therefore commend and materially support other countries who will take up the mantle.

Since these strong democracies are the primary funders of the missions, and have significant interest in their success, there is little need to serve side-by-side with them on the battlefield to reap the benefits of greater political and economic support. Therefore, the desire to learn specific behaviors and skills from those other militaries is a more plausible explanation for the strategic deployment found in this chapter than other explanations.

4.7 Conclusion

For its various oft-cited faults, the United Nations – and its peacekeeping program in particular – has been a strong and consistent champion of democratic norms and values for over seven decades. While much focus has been placed on its ability to support post-conflict

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democratization in the locations it sends missions, there are also important implications for the diffusion of democratic norms to those providing the inputs for those operations. This is particularly true for troop contributing countries. Although stories abound of the bad behaviors of peacekeepers, much less discussion is devoted to the unseen, and perhaps intangible, benefits that accrue to contributing countries through their experiences in the field. UN peacekeeping has been able to effectively coopt the world’s strongest democracies into its agenda and the international community is better off as a result. It has provided an efficient tool for global interaction that has welcomed, rather than discouraged, politically weak states, and a space for governments needing support in transforming their militaries to do so through the power of influence. The extent to which this is successful remains to be determined.

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CHAPTER 5

PROFESSIONALIZING THE PEACEKEEPERS: REORIENTING CIVIL-MILITARY RELATIONS TOWARDS STABLE DEMOCRACY

5.1 Introduction

Beyond the broad goal of socializing the military to democratic norms through peacekeeping deployment, civilian state institutions must also consider how the military should be integrated into the new democratic order. In other words, what should be the nature of civil-military relations in the country that would best lead to a stable political system governed by democracy and removing the threat of military interference into the political sphere? The illustration of Fiji in Chapter 4 identified the limits of merely deploying troops to peacekeeping missions in the hope that they will acquire more democratic outlooks.

Instead, such activity can have the unintended consequence of fostering in the military a greater sense of efficacy in resolving domestic societal ills, or in seeing the political capacity of other countries’ involved in the mission and believing they can replicate that at home. This suggests that deploying states should not only seek to socialize their soldiers to democratic norms, but also to reinforce a role for the military as an institution that will support the stable consolidation of democratic institutions at home. The path that the state chooses for

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the military will likely be contingent on certain domestic factors, such as the role the military played in society and politics prior to democratization, and the degree of effective governance present after democratization.

Disagreement exists over the most effective form of military professionalization for democracies (Feaver 1996; Finer 1962; Huntington 1957; Janowitz 1960), while others argue that the choice is subject to variation based on domestic factors (Schiff 1995). In this chapter,

I apply these various approaches to the use of peacekeeping as a tool of military professionalization. I first test the argument that states will seek out peacekeeping missions that reinforce narrower, more traditional military roles which divest the military of its political nature but enhance its strength and capacity as a force for defense. I also test the alternate approach: that states will seek out missions with more civilianizing tasks for peacekeepers, thereby giving them buy-in to a domestic agenda of strengthening democracy and civil society and drawing soldiers away from tasks involving the use of force. After this,

I address whether or not this choice is contingent on domestic factors, and therefore varies from one new democracy to another. I examine whether a state is more or less inclined to a narrower military role or to a broader civilianized role under two conditions: if the country has a strong military legacy, measured as a recent coup attempt or a strong military prior to democratization, and if the civilian government lacks capacity to effect good governance, measured by economic indicators of change in per capita income and income inequality. The findings offer an interesting potential dilemma for states: narrow, conventional military professionalization is preferred where there is a stronger pre-democratization military legacy, but broader, civilianizing professionalization is preferred when the government faces domestic economic pressure. These findings offer clarity on why states, and particularly new democracies, choose particular peacekeeping missions for their military deployments. They

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also suggest that governments in new democracies make strategic decisions in the early years of the regime as to what role the military ought to play in the new order.

5.2 Military Professionalization

Exposure to, and internalization of, democratic norms does not guarantee that a military will not be a threat to domestic political stability. In fact, such socialization may intensify the military’s proclivity to interfere in political matters if it deems itself to be the legitimate guardian of democracy and political stability. This has been offered as a partial explanation for coups occurring in Brazil, Fiji, and others. Democratic socialization must therefore be combined with shaping an appropriate role for the military in a democratic society – what is referred to as the military’s ‘professionalization.’ New democracies face a more significant challenge shaping this role than other states. In established democracies, there is little need for significant military capacity, since such countries face few internal or external security threats. Where such countries do maintain substantial defense forces, they have typically been reoriented to international activities such as peacekeeping, and isolated from domestic political or civic tasks, where democratic societies are generally opposed to the military serving in policing or other domestic roles. Thus, the military has a healthy understanding of its subordination to civilian institutions. In non-democracies, the lack of accountability to citizens reduces pressure to abate military capacity, while larger defense forces may be desired to deal with internal and external security threats. In such countries, the military’s role is often blurred, incorporating it into domestic policing tasks to deal with issues such as organized crime, insurgency, and civil unrest. While the prominence of the military in these societies may increase its potential to interfere in politics, the ability of

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autocratic leaders to appease the military with financial and functional incentives is often sufficient to deter this threat.

New democracies face a different set of choices to these states. Since the dissipation of major internal and external security threats is largely prerequisite for democratization to occur in the first place, civilian authorities must find a new purpose for the armed forces.

Chapter 3 explained how pressure to do so comes from citizens demanding the diversion of government funds away from bloated defense budgets and towards social spending, as well as the government’s desire to sufficiently shackle the political influence of the military. Yet the absence of an immediate purpose may not be best resolved by crippling the armed forces; the attempts of the Alfonsín administration to do this during Argentina’s democratic transition illustrate the risks of this approach. Finding an appropriate role for the military is therefore of paramount importance if the government desires to mitigate threats to its authority from the military and to its credibility from society.

The debate over what role a democratic military should play is extensive and unresolved. Arguments generally fall somewhere between two extremes. The first posits that the military’s role should be narrowly restricted to external matters, reinforcing a traditional military function, and thereby neutralizing its political inclinations. Huntington’s (1957) seminal work on civil-military relations champions this narrow conception of military professionalization as the path to a stable, civilian-led society. Rather than attempting to

“civilianize” the military, which results in the intrusion of the military into politics,

Huntington promotes the maximization of military professionalism – making the military look more like a military – as the key to keeping it politically disengaged, and thereby upholding the independence and authority of civilian government (80-85). Such militaries are occupied primarily by issues of national defense and have little interaction with civilian leaders, nor influence in domestic political decision making. This he refers to as “objective

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civilian control” (83). The intention of this approach goes beyond merely narrowing the military’s focus. It additionally gives the military an area of autonomy, into which the civilian authorities promise not to encroach. Sundhaussen (1998, 334) states:

“The civil authorities have to accept that a professional military will need to be granted areas of autonomy in which they must not interfere; only if a system of mutual respect for prerogatives is institutionalized and preserved is the need for soldiers to become politically active removed, or at least curtailed.”

Under this model, the military plays merely an advising role in politics, while implementing the foreign security policy of the civilian government. It is willing to subordinate itself politically to civilian institutions in return for this autonomy (Hunter 1996, 8). This approach further encourages military professionalism by allowing it to develop new technologies or acquire modern fighting equipment, feeding its desire to remain within its own sphere.

Huntington warns strongly of its counterpart, “subjective civilian control,” whereby the military is not treated as distinct from political entities, but instead as one of a number of groups in society competitively vying for power, resources, and influence. This, therefore, leads to the military becoming a civilianized entity. Under such a model, civilian authorities reduce military scope and autonomy, undertaking close monitoring and oversight of military activities as they seek to “maximize their power in military affairs” (Huntington 1957, 84).

Huntington argues that such a “denial of an independent military sphere” leads to the military becoming “progressively involved in institutional, class, and constitutional politics,” where its incentive to remain independent from politics is removed and it is drawn into domestic matters by civilian leaders (83). One particular risk is that the military will become the tool of particular civilian groups attempting to consolidate their own power, creating inevitable threats to democracy. Bangladesh serves as an example of this type of behavior, which will be discussed in Chapter 6.

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A number of challenges to Huntington’s conceptualization have been offered. Finer

(1962) is chief among those critics, arguing that Huntington offers little clarity on what makes an objectively professional military accept civilian control, other than the fact that it is professional (see also Feaver 1996). Others have identified that Huntington’s prescription has not been borne out in reality, where highly professional militaries in the Huntingtonian sense have repeatedly interfered with domestic matters (Welch 1976; Feaver 1996, 164;

Sundhaussen 1998, 342). Indeed, some even argue that such militaries are a greater risk to civilian control, since they are better equipped, trained to act more decisively, and see themselves more as the instrument of the people than of the government (Finer 1962;

Rouquie 1982). Similarly, a highly autonomous military which is subject to civilian control but has little oversight in its activities may drag a country into foreign conflicts to support its own narrow agenda. Others critique the ideal-type military offered by Huntington for its assumption that a highly professionalized military will divest itself of political interest.

Janowitz (1960) suggests instead that the modern military is “constabulary” by nature, and its evolving role in the absence of external security threats takes on more of a policing than a soldiering nature. As such, the military is therefore inherently both politicized and civilianized in the modern world. Janowitz’ approach is more descriptive of reality than it is prescriptive, however. He acknowledges that a military integrated into politics and society can be a threat, and he admits that attempts to increase civilian oversight of the military have not been effective in the case of the United States (363-367). Rather, Janowitz seems to favor a more sociological approach to pacifying the military, whereby a military that is more integrated into communities and which shares common values with society is more likely to subordinate itself to civilian control (Feaver 1996, 166).

If Huntington’s “radical professionalism” is at opposite ends of the spectrum to

Janowitz’ “pragmatic professionalism” (Feaver 1996, 165), recent theoretical contributions

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may be considered a mid-point. Most notably, Schiff (1995) offers an alternative known as

Concordance Theory, which posits that the effective prevention of undesired military intervention in the political sphere does not necessitate the physical and ideological separation of military and civilian institutions, nor does it require the complete integration of the two spheres. Rather, preventing military intervention in politics is best achieved through cooperation and agreement between three actors: the military, the civilian elites, and the citizenry. This approach does not preclude either of the aforementioned civil-military configurations, but rather advocates for a more nuanced and dynamic consideration of the relationship between the two parties. Schiff challenges Huntington’s approach as being too heavily based on the American example, whereas concordance theory accounts for the varied historical and cultural experiences of individual countries (8). Yet her prescription that the military should be a party to dialogue and cooperation with the civilian authorities perpetuates its distinct nature, rather than removing it through social integration. The relationship between civilian institutions, military, and society therefore leaves a highly dynamic and nationally-derived civil-military configuration that likely varies from one country to the next. Zaman and Biswas (2014) attribute the lack of coups in Bangladesh since

1990 to the tenets of concordance theory, where the military’s centrality in political matters through dialogue and cooperation with the government has kept it from exerting too much influence (although this conclusion is highly debatable).

Given these various approaches to civil-military relations, what are the various practical options a new democracy has for using its military? Hunter (1996) offers four roles that militaries of democracies can play. Under Huntington’s objective control approach, the military can either adopt a mission of conventional defense or international peacekeeping.

With conventional defense, armed forces can be retained primarily for the purpose of addressing threats to the state’s territorial integrity. However, while all states maintain

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some defense capability regardless of threat existence, democracies can rarely justify sustaining large militaries for purely defense purposes. Those that do have broader foreign policy agendas relating to regional or global security. For a new democracy, there would therefore be insufficient justification for sustaining a powerful military from pre-democracy times, opting instead for a smaller capability reflective of real threats to the state’s security.

The alternative for governments seeking objective control of the military is international peacekeeping. As discussed in Chapter 3, this venture allows a state to maintain a large military, avoiding the unpleasant blow back of attempting to reduce its capacity. It also provides a source of income that allows government funds to be freed up for much needed social spending. Some countries have combined these two approaches. They have security concerns that are less imminent or definable, such as an enduring rivalry or concerns over potential regional instability, which demand large armed forces but may be difficult to justify (as well as sustain financially). Examples include Pakistan and India, two of the top contributors to UN peacekeeping, who seek to project strength to one another and the rest of the world, and therefore use peacekeeping as a means to maintain a large military

(Avezov 2014). Concerns over regional destabilization have also been used to justify maintaining large militaries in Argentina and Brazil, both of which have used UN peacekeeping to sustain and professionalize their militaries (Hunter 1996).

The two roles offered by Hunter reflecting subjective control (or, at least, greater integration of the military into domestic matters) are internal security and civic action. With internal security, the military is used to address issues typically reserved for police, including counterinsurgency, organized crime, narcotics trafficking, and suppressing social protest

(Hunter 1996, 5). Such prominent issues necessitate the broadening of military powers, inherently making it a more politicized entity. Moreover, attempts to quell insurgency, crime networks, and civic unrest inevitably lead to human rights violations. In and of itself, this

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threatens democracy, but has the added drawback of fomenting domestic anger against governments reluctant to punish for such crimes (5). Civic action represents the most integrated use of the military in society, where soldiers perform functions less related to their training and more by virtue of being an organized entity serving at the behest of the government. Such tasks might include the provision of food and health services, building infrastructure, and environmental protection efforts where adequate civilian agencies are lacking (6). As with internal security, there are several disadvantages with this approach.

First, the military becomes a primary tool of state- and nation-building, giving it a deeply political role and enhancing its sense of responsibility to oversee matters of domestic stability.

In addition, by undertaking roles traditionally reserved for civilian agencies, the military adopts a sense of superiority to civilians, seeing itself as a more effective actor. Such a perception will threaten any view of itself as subordinate to civilian authorities (6). Third, the deep integration of the military into social affairs is likely to lead to social conflict where the military may malign particular social or ethnic groups, or seek to resolve intercommunal divisions. Lastly, using the military for civic action roles means that resources are not being invested into developing adequate civilian institutions to perform the same tasks, entrenching the military’s social role for years to come (6).

Greater integration of the military into civilian society, is not necessarily bad, though.

The military can play an important part in establishing the social infrastructure and conducting domestic enforcement necessary for democracy to take root. However, states face an enormous challenge of limiting this role such that the military does not become overly involved in political matters. The challenge increases if the military is viewed positively by society as an efficacious agent of development, and if the civilian government is simultaneously seen as weak, incapable, or even redundant. Civilian control during such integration of the military can therefore best be maintained when it enjoys a high degree of

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legitimacy in the eyes of its citizenry. Where it does not, perhaps through poor economic performance or other widespread social problems, the government may fear giving the military too much leverage in society and opt to restrict its role to external matters through either conventional defense or peacekeeping deployment. However, with decreasing need for conventional defense, democracies will likely see peacekeeping as the most viable mission for the armed forces. This is corroborated by the findings in Chapter 2 that new democracies are the largest peacekeeping contributors of all countries.

5.3 Peacekeeping and Professionalization

There is, however, a major caveat to the assumption that peacekeeping serves as an objective professionalization tool (and one that Hunter does not address). Peacekeeping, and particularly that conducted by the United Nations, should not be thought of as a strictly external (or objective control) mission. On the contrary, missions have increasingly become multidimensional peacebuilding operations that demand deployed troops to engage in activities of a much more civilian nature. In other words, while peacekeeping may be intended to turn the military’s attention to external matters, it may inadvertently reinforce the tenets of subjective, rather than objective, control. Therefore, while the contributing state may seek to divert the military from domestic affairs by deploying to peacekeeping missions, it may only be leading the armed forces to take on those domestic roles elsewhere.

Professionalizing the military in this way will therefore have implications upon its return from the mission. Indeed, Sotomayor (2014) concludes that a primary determinant of the positive professionalization of the military is the type of mission it serves, where tasks undertaken by troops that resemble their prior activities at home do little to change the military’s orientation towards democratic civil-military norms.

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In reality, great variation exists from mission to mission as to what roles a soldier deployed as a peacekeeper will play. Unfortunately, little empirical research addresses what these roles are and how they might affect peacekeepers differently. While the black box of peacekeeping missions has been opened up in various ways, such as addressing variation in mission size and composition (Beardsley 2011; Hultman et al. 2013, 2014; Bove and Ruggeri

2015; Ward and Dorussen 2016), much remains to be known about the specific tasks undertaken within a mission environment. Ruggeri et al.’s (2016) data on subnational deployment provides geocoded information about the number of peacekeepers deployed to conflict zones, while similar studies on local deployment patterns have been offered by

Costalli (2014), Autesserre (2010), and Pouligny (2006). Smidt (n.d.) presents data on specific peacebuilding activities undertaken in 37 missions during electoral periods. Hultman (2017) codes tasks relating to the protection of civilians that are carried out within missions. Absent from all of these studies, however, is a consideration of the actual experiences of peacekeepers, and how they, and militaries more broadly, are affected by peacekeeping activities. Even those studies that address the professionalizing effects of UN peacekeeping do not consider heterogeneity across missions (Levin et al. 2016; Norden 1995; Scobell 1994;

Worboys 2007; Zaman and Biswas 2014). Sotomayor (2014) is the exception. He uses the disparate outcomes observed with the militaries of Uruguay, Brazil, and Argentina to argue that the effect of peacekeeping on positively socializing the military is contingent on the tasks performed by the soldiers. Specifically, soldiers are more effectively socialized away from their existing dispositions when they perform tasks different to those undertaken at home.

However, his study does not address the fact that mission type deployments are likely not randomly assigned, and that there may be specific reasons that countries prefer one type of mission over another.

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One way of addressing the variation in peacekeeping operations (and subsequent experiences of peacekeepers) that challenges the assumption of peacekeeping as an external mission is by considering the type of mission to which they have been deployed. The UN undertakes various different types of mission, each of which requires different tasks of deployed peacekeepers. Prominent studies in UN peacekeeping have used such distinctions for assessing variation in peacekeeping success (Doyle and Sambanis 2000, 2006; Gilligan and Stedman 2003; Fortna 2004, 2008). Sotomayor (2014, 104) uses this methodology in identifying the professionalization of the Argentine and Brazilian militaries. Most closely reflecting Huntington’s argument, he notes that Argentina, which experienced the most effective reorientation of its military, sent 97% of its soldiers to missions with narrow military tasks between 1990 and 2003, and only 3% to multidimensional peacebuilding missions.

Alternately, Brazil, which has seen repeated incursions of the military into politics, sent 98% of its peacekeepers to peacebuilding missions, where soldiers adopted broad roles involving non-military tasks that likely reinforced the military’s political identity.

Doyle and Sambanis (2000, 781)22 identify four types of UN peace operation that have occurred over the decades. Observation missions involve small deployments to oversee such events as ceasefires, the withdrawal of troops, or some other terms of a peace agreement.

These missions merely observe and report on what occurs. Examples include UNAVEM II in

Angola and MINURSO in Western Sahara. Traditional missions involve lightly armed troops similarly monitoring compliance with an agreement, but may also be used to create a buffer between combatants or help with the process of disarmament and demobilization of fighters.

UNAVEM III in Angola and MINUGUA in Guatemala are examples of such missions. Third

22 See also (Fortna 2008, 6-7).

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are multidimensional missions, which have grown in prominence in recent years. In such missions, peacekeepers go beyond the tasks of the first two mission types and help oversee the implementation of a comprehensive peace agreement. This may involve a variety of tasks including monitoring human rights abuses, institution-building, organizing elections, and supporting the reform of police. ONUSAL in El Salvador and ONUMOZ in Mozambique are examples of multidimensional missions.

While the previous three types of mission are sanctioned under Chapter VI of the UN

Charter, enabling the UN to use political means to pursue peace, the fourth type derives from

Chapter VII, allowing the UN to procure peace through the use of force where necessary.

Moreover, while the Chapter VI missions require the consent of at least one of the conflict parties, Chapter VII missions do not. This category, enforcement missions, has occurred with increasing frequency in recent years, with UNAMSIL in Sierra Leone serving as an example.

Linking these mission types to the various models of civil-military relations discussed above, it should be noted that there is no purely objective mission type in the Huntingtonian sense of the term. Troops are not fighting to gain or protect territory, and do not pursue a specific objective of victory other than deterring conflict and overseeing durable peace. In observer missions, troops are not armed, while in all but enforcement missions, force may only be used under limited circumstances (typically in self-defense or the defense of others at immediate risk). Therefore, peacekeeping roles can be more or less reflective of conventional military tasks, but not their mirror image. The mission type most closely reflecting conventional military roles is peace enforcement mission, since troops have a mandate to use force where necessary and are typically deployed to areas of ongoing fighting. After this, traditional missions resemble conventional military activities in a number of ways. Troops are armed and their tasks are restricted to interaction with armed combatants, whether forming a buffer between opposing sides or demobilizing fighters. Beyond this, observer

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missions somewhat resemble conventional military roles. However, being unarmed and restricted to monitoring and reporting on the implementation of a ceasefire or peace agreement is somewhat removed from a soldier’s typical role, and has an element of constabularism where observers are more akin to police officers than soldiers. The mission type the least reflective of conventional military activities is the multidimensional mission, since it involves far-reaching and complex tasks beyond merely separating combatants and overseeing a ceasefire, or engaging in direct combat. These tasks are largely undertaken by non-military personnel including civilian police, UNDPKO civilian staff and development agencies, and non-UN entities such as NGOs. However, troops may inevitably serve in some civil action capacities, including humanitarian assistance, investigating human rights abuses and training domestic police and troops in human rights activities, and supporting electoral efforts. Moreover, the complex interconnectivity of the various aspects of the mission require significant interaction and cooperation between military and civilian elements. To the extent that military peacekeepers are considered a distinct entity in this process, such interaction reflects concordance theory. To the extent that troops become functionally inseparable from other actors, the civilianization of soldiers is more like Janowitz’ conception of the constabulary soldier.

It is possible that this assessment of multidimensional missions is incorrect, and that this mission type might actually reinforce a narrow military role. Troops are far from the only group of people implementing a peacekeeping operation, and so it cannot be assumed that they undertake all roles prescribed in the mission’s mandate. In fact, it may be the case that the presence of multiple actors performing varied tasks leads to functional differentiation, where military peacekeepers undertake tasks within their remit, and civilians theirs. This would create a simulated environment of separation between the military and civilians, where troops witness capable and organized civilian entities carrying

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out civil action tasks and contain themselves to protection roles. While this is a viable outcome, it has not been borne out in the sparse evidence that has been obtained. Specifically,

Sotomayor (2014, 122) finds that involvement in multidimensional missions had a strongly civilianizing effect on troops, whether it involved working closely with NGOs, or performing policing roles such as maintaining law and order and suppressing civilian unrest. Sotomayor argues that serving in such missions simply reinforced the preexisting praetorian tendencies of the Brazilian and Uruguayan militaries.

Considering the four mission types, one might think of them as being on a scale from most to least like Huntington’s professional military role, starting with enforcement missions and ending with multidimensional missions. However, more accurate would be to group together enforcement, traditional, and observer missions as objectively professionalizing missions, and multidimensional missions as subjectively professionalizing. While the former three differ in their extent of narrow military activity, they all largely preclude participation in civil action tasks, whereas this is a central component of the latter. One would therefore expect that if a civilian government is acting strategically in attempting to professionalize the military in one way or the other, it would send its troops predominantly to either the narrow military missions or the broader civil-oriented missions.

5.4 Which Form of Professionalization do States Desire?

Both theoretical approaches – objective and subjective control – suggest that states should be strategic in their deployment of peacekeepers to particular missions. New democracies should either want to separate the military from the domestic sphere, or instead integrate it in a way that dilutes its power and political will, or puts it to use in domestic activities. If such a state makes larger deployments to conventional military missions, it

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likely reflects Huntington’s prescription of creating a more militaristic, autonomous, apolitical entity. Such deployments would avoid the civil-oriented tasks common in multidimensional missions, as well as the regular interaction with civilian actors.

Alternately, greater deployments to multidimensional missions better reflect theories supporting integration of the military into society through either the civilianization of the soldier (Janowitz 1960) or the cooperation of the military as a distinct entity with civilian institutions (Schiff 1995). A new democracy may want its military to witness the implementation of state-building programs in the conflict country rather than just the negative warring aspects. Exposure to multilateral efforts to implement democracy, protect human rights, and secure the rule of law may subsequently induce the military to respect these principles more in its own country. Similarly, the government may not want the military to engage in narrow military roles, and particularly direct engagement of combatants, since this could promote violent tendencies within the military, or restrict its approach to solving problems to the use of force. This may subsequently cause the military to turn to such methods in order to pursue its domestic preferences. Since the two theoretical poles predict different, but viable, outcomes, I propose the following hypothesis. H5.1 reflects the pursuit of objective control by the state. If opposite results are obtained, it will thus indicate that states instead seek subjective control. The null hypothesis is that new democracies are not strategic in one direction or the other, and therefore do not have a clear preference for either type of control.

H5.1: A new democracy will make larger troop contributions to missions that involve

conventional military roles than missions involving civil-oriented roles.

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Of course, all new democracies are not alike. Rather, variation from one to another may influence this decision in a particular direction. To more accurately identify this process, two factors must therefore be considered: the military’s past role in society, and the government’s current institutional strength and performance. The first regards how political the military was prior to democratization, and thus how capable it perceives itself of rectifying perceived ills in society or replacing a weak government. Where the military has a strong political legacy, objective control predicts that the government will want to professionalize it away from such tendencies and create or restore a narrower military role.

Neutralizing these political tendencies will not only make the military’s interference in politics less likely, but over time will also leave it less capable of doing so effectively. As a military’s expertise becomes more narrowly focused on defense and less on domestic activity, it will be seen less and less (by itself and society) as a viable solution to domestic problems.

Sundhausen (1998, 346) speaks of “a political learning [that] has convinced the public, as well as the armed forces, that military interventions may have in the past had a justification of sorts, but that today’s military men have no answers to complicated social issues and the complexity of modern-day economics. …This realization has sharply reduced the incentive to intervene.” This statement is certainly true of militaries confined to the sphere of defense. In contrast, the complex environment of a multidimensional peacekeeping mission can mimic the situation at home, and the experiences of peacekeepers in such missions will likely reinforce a sense of efficacy in dealing with domestic problems. Therefore, where a military has enjoyed prior political status and influence, the government will seek out strictly military roles in peacekeeping missions.

The subjective control framework would make a different prediction. Since the military enjoyed political power before democratization, it may require more, not less, oversight from government. Integrating civilian and military matters adds such oversight,

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while strengthening military capacity for negotiation and cooperation, hallmarks of a democratic system. Moreover, the government may see peacekeeping as an opportunity to civilianize the military strongmen, involving them in tasks with which they may be unfamiliar such as protecting human rights and interacting peacefully with civilians in local settings. Multidimensional missions would be the more effective channel for these goals to be achieved. Indeed, Doyle & Sambanis (2000, 791) find that multidimensional missions are more effective at promoting institutional and political reform, elections, and democratization in conflict countries. It is therefore possible that the mechanisms underlying these processes could also be taken home with the peacekeepers. H5.2 reflects the objective control strategy under these circumstances, where again opposite findings would support the pursuit of subjective control:

H5.2 The effect of democratization on deploying to conventional military missions will be

stronger where the sending country has a greater military legacy than where it has a

weak or no military legacy.

The second factor that may influence the type of professionalization the civilian government wants the military to receive through peacekeeping is its own success in delivering good outcomes for society. Huntington (1968) argues that “Military explanations do not explain military interventions” (194), but rather that their cause lies “in the absence or weakness of effective political institutions in the society” (196). This therefore serves as a limitation of his notion of military professionalism, where even the most politically neutral military may intervene if conditions at home are bad enough. Some have argued that this explains, at least in part, why an apolitical Fijian military participated in three coups

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between 1987 and 2006, responding to perceived ethnic and class conflict (Robertson and

Tamanisau 1989).

Many new democracies in the second half of the twentieth century underwent transition much more rapidly than their established democratic counterparts, and the inability to produce sufficient institutional capacity to deal with broad ranging issues has commonly been a factor in democratic breakdowns (Gasiorowski 1995; Haggard and

Kaufman 1997; Przeworski et al. 2000; Svolik 2008). Moreover, since many such countries are experimenting with democracy for the first time, the legitimacy of the regime type is often conflated with the efficacy of the sitting government. If society’s optimism turns to disappointment through the poor performance of the government, people’s confidence in democracy as a whole will likely dissipate, paving the way for non-democratic intervention.

Objective civilian control proposes that this opportunity to intervene will more likely be taken advantage of by a military that has the tools to offer stability and provide solutions to society’s problems. Where a military has been professionalized in areas of civil action and politics, it will be seen as a capable agent of change, whereas a more narrowly professionalized military will offer little more than the outgoing regime. On the other hand, where the government consists of stronger institutions and better performance, it has less to fear of a military with broader societal skills. From the subjective control perspective, new democracies suffering from a lack of legitimacy or public support may prefer to send their soldiers to multidimensional missions specifically for the skills they will obtain. Participation in humanitarian relief, policing, election oversight, and the delivery of other programs may be attractive to a government with low capacity, and will therefore seek a more diversely skilled military that can aid in domestic matters. Such a decision may be shortsighted if the military becomes highly effective in politics and challenges the regime, but states may nevertheless take such a risk to deliver results in the short term. This therefore leads to the

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final hypothesis, where once again an affirmative finding supports objective control, and contrary findings support subjective control as a state strategy:

H5.3 The effect of democratization on deploying to conventional military missions will be

stronger where the sending country faces greater domestic economic pressure than

where it faces lower pressure.

5.5 Empirical Analysis

To test the above hypotheses, I conduct analyses of troop contributions to peacekeeping operations in a similar fashion to previous chapters. The unit of analysis is the contributor-mission-year, as with Chapter 4. While mission types are generally static, supporting a contributor-mission unit of analysis, missions do exhibit variation in some instances, (identified in Table 5.1). In order to account for correlated errors due to consistent values for a number of variables within contributor-mission observations, I cluster standard errors on the contributor-mission dyad. The dependent variable is the same used in Chapter

4, which is the count of contributed military personnel by a country to a mission in a given year for the count equation, and a binary indicator of participation for the logistic equation.

I therefore use the zero-inflated negative binomial method as the modeling choice for reasons stated in previous chapters.

5.5.1 Mission Type

The primary variable of interest for each hypothesis is the type of mission, while the relationship between this and the contribution size is expected to be moderated by the domestic political factors discussed above. To identify the mission type, I first create four

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dummy variables, each taking on a value of 1 if the mission in question is an observation, traditional, multidimensional, or enforcement mission. I test the relationship between each individual mission type and contributions before aggregating them into the objective and subjective types. I use data collected by Doyle and Sambanis (2006) to identify the mission type. Since their data only go to 2002, I use the same methodology to extend the classification of missions to 2011. This involves identifying the tasks assigned to peacekeepers in the mission’s mandate and sorting the mission into one of the four categories. An observer mission is one that involves only monitoring, observing, and reporting, as specified in the mandate. Such missions are typically small in composition and have limited engagement beyond observation and verification of a peace process or other associated events. Doyle and

Sambanis code a traditional mission as one with the narrow purpose of providing protection, which may involve the provision of security during a ceasefire, the creation of a military buffer zone between combatants, overseeing the withdrawal of foreign troops, or providing security for other tasks such as humanitarian assistance. If tasks outside these traditional military functions are part of the mandate, the mission is more likely multidimensional

(unless it involves Chapter VII enforcement). If a mandate tasks peacekeepers with at least two tasks outside the provision of protection, it is classified as such (e.g. electoral assistance, human rights investigations, etc.). Lastly, a mission is coded as an enforcement mission if the mandate is authorized under Chapter VII of the UN Charter, which is stated explicitly in the mandate or its approving Security Council Resolution. Although enforcement missions are often also multidimensional in nature, the designation as a Chapter VII mission assumes there are significant security threats to civilians and the implementation of any ceasefires or peace agreements, and military peacekeepers are therefore narrowly focused on those tasks.

It is therefore appropriate to keep this designation of such missions.

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Table 5.1: Missions by type, 1992-2011.

Observation Traditional MINUCI 2003-2004 (Ivory Coast) MONUA 1997-2000 (Angola) MINURSO 1992-2011 (Morocco/Western Sahara) UNAMIR 1993-1996 (Rwanda) MONUC 1999* (Dem. Rep. of Congo) UNAVEM II 1991-1994 (Angola) UNIKOM 1992-2003 (Iraq/Kuwait) UNAVEM III 1995-1997 (Angola) UNMEE 2000-2008 (Ethiopia/Eritrea) UNDOF 1992-2011 (Syria/Israel) UNMIN 2007-2010 (Nepal) UNFICYP 1992-2011 (Cyprus) UNMOGIP 1992-2011 (India/Pakistan) UNIFIL 1992-2011 (Lebanon) UNMOT 1994-1997* (Tajikistan) UNOMIG 1993-2009 (Georgia) UNOMIL 1993-1997 (Liberia) UNOMSIL 1998-2000 (Sierra Leone) UNOMUR 1993-1994 (Rwanda) Multidimensional Enforcement BINUB 2007-2011 (Burundi) MINUSTAH 2004-2011 (Haiti) IPTF 1996 (Bosnia & Herzegovina) MONUC 2000-2011* (Dem. Rep. of Congo) MINUGUA 1997-2002 (Guatemala) ONUB 2004-2006 (Burundi) MINURCA 1998-2000 (Central African Rep.) UNAMID 2007-2011 (Sudan) MINURCAT 2007-2010 (Central African Rep.) UNAMSIL 2000-2005* (Sierra Leone) ONUMOZ 1993-1994 (Mozambique) UNCRO 1995 (Croatia) ONUSAL 1992-1995 (El Salvador) UNISFA 2011 (Sudan) UNAMA 2002-2011 (Afghanistan) UNMIH 1994-1996 (Haiti) UNAMET 1999 (East Timor) UNMIK 1999-2011 (Kosovo) UNAMI 2006-2011 (Iraq) UNMIL 2003-2011 (Liberia) UNAMIC 1992 (Cambodia) UNMIS 2005-2011 (Sudan) UNAMSIL 1999* (Sierra Leone) UNMISET 2001-2005 (East Timor) UNIOSIL 2006-2008 (Sierra Leone) UNMISS 2011 (South Sudan) UNMIBH 1996-2002 (Bosnia & Herzegovina) UNOCI 2004-2011 (Ivory Coast) UNMIT 2006-2011 (East Timor) UNOSOM I 1992 (Somalia) UNMOT 1998-2000* (Tajikistan) UNOSOM II 1993-1995 (Somalia) UNPREDEP 1995-1999 (FYR Macedonia) UNPROFOR 1992-1995 (Former Yugoslavia) UNSMIH 1996-1997 (Haiti) UNTAES 1996-1998 (Croatia) UNTAC 1992-1993 (Cambodia) UNTAET 1999-2002 (East Timor) UNTMIH 1997 (Haiti) NB: Asterisks indicate a mission that partially appears in multiple categories.

The list of missions broken down by type is shown in Table 5.1. Some missions change their type during their existence. These are denoted by an asterisk, with the years associated with that mission type. For example, MONUC in the Democratic Republic of Congo is classified as a traditional mission in 1999, but receives Chapter VII enforcement

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authorization in 2000. Similarly, UNMOT in Tajikistan begins as a traditional mission, but takes on a multidimensional mandate starting in 1998. Table 5.2 shows the proportion of observations for each mission type. The distribution indicates that all four mission types are present in roughly equal measure over the period studied.

Table 5.2: Distribution of observations by mission type.

Mission type % of observations

Observer 28.1

Traditional 23.1

Enforcement 27.7

Multidimensional 21.2

In order to more accurately test the hypotheses, I group the four types of mission into two classifications – objective and subjective –where the former reflects Huntington’s notion of objective professionalization and includes observer, traditional, and enforcement missions.

The latter reflects the notion of subjective professionalization and includes only multidimensional missions. The resulting binary variable used in the models, objective mission, takes on a 1 for objective professionalization missions, and a 0 if it is multidimensional. Of the total observations, 78.8% are the objective mission type (aggregated from Table 5.2).

5.5.2 Military Legacy

To determine whether a new democracy’s past experience with the military affects its decision to make personnel contributions, I conduct additional tests interacting the mission

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type with measures of military legacy in the country. Similar to those used in Chapter 3, these variables are coup history, the number of years since the country experienced a failed or successful coup, military legacy (personnel), the natural log of the size of the military for an average of the five years prior to the year of democratization, and military legacy

(expenditure), the natural log of the total spending on the military for an average of the five years prior to democratization. As before, coup data come from Powell and Thyne (2011), while military legacy data are taken from the National Military Capabilities/CINC Project

(Singer et al. 1972).

5.5.3 Domestic Pressure

I use two variables to reflect pressures faced at home by the civilian government, and interact these with the mission type to identify if those domestic conditions affect the decision to deploy more peacekeepers to one type of mission over another. The first indicator included is ΔGDP per capita, which measures the proportion change in GDP per capita in the current year compared to the year prior. Using the change is preferable to simply using the GDP per capita, since it is changes that should influence domestic satisfaction or dissatisfaction with the government, rather than comparing the experiences of relatively poorer to relatively wealthier countries in general. Hypotheses 4.3a and 4.3b predict that where people experience low or negative changes to their income, there will be greater pressure on the government as it is perceived to be failing to deliver on the promises of democracy. This should therefore influence the government’s deployment decisions as it considers the potential for the military to play a role in rectifying this dissatisfaction (for better or worse).

Second, I include the variable inequality, which measures on a scale from 0 to 100 the degree of income inequality in the country, with 100 being perfect inequality. Where

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inequality is likely to be high in an autocratic system, the public will demand greater wealth distribution upon democratization and the government will therefore face pressure if it fails to address this problem. As with changes in income, such pressure should lead the government to direct its military to one type of mission over another in order to professionalize it in a particular way (and thereby prevent military interference in politics).

Inequality data are taken from the commonly used Gini index, with missing values imputed through linear regression (UNU-WIDER 2017).

5.5.4 Control Variables

As with Chapter 4, the unit of analysis for this Chapter is the contributor-mission- year which allows for the inclusion of covariates at the mission and contributor-mission dyad level. Descriptions of most of the control variables used can be found in Chapters 4. New to this chapter, I include mission size instead of PKO troops. The former takes the natural log of the total military personnel authorized within the mission’s mandate, as agreed upon by the UN Security Council (Passmore, Shannon, and Hart 2018). This enables one to control for underlying differences in the size of missions, where observer and traditional missions may have significantly smaller authorized numbers than enforcement and multidimensional.

Some missions have no military authorization in a given year, instead consisting entirely of police deployments. These observations are set to missing.

5.5.5 Results and Discussion

The following tables include models that test the effect of mission type both when disaggregated and when grouped into the objective and subjective types. Table 5.3 shows the

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effect of mission type on military contributions first for all countries (Models 1 and 2), and then for new democracies only (Models 3 and 4), measured as a state that has democratized within the last five years (change in Polity score from less than 6 to 6 or greater). The results indicate that for both the full sample of countries and just new democracies, there is no statistically significant relationship between whether a mission is objective or subjective and a country’s military contribution (Models 1 and 3). The coefficient for both in the count equation is negative, indicating that countries make larger contributions to multidimensional (subjective) missions, but the lack of statistical significance indicates that no assumption of a relationship can be made for either sample. This suggests one of two things. Either the type of mission does not matter for states in their deployment decisions, or an omitted moderating factor accounts for important variation within the sample. The latter of these possibilities is tested in Hypotheses 5.2 and 5.3.

Models 2 and 4 show contribution patterns were the mission type is disaggregated even further. Model 2 shows that the full sample of countries make smaller contributions to observer and enforcement missions than multidimensional ones, but larger contributions to traditional missions than multidimensional. In the case of new democracies (Model 4), countries are no more likely to support one of the three objective missions than multidimensional missions.

Considering briefly the other covariates in the models, a country’s contribution (log mil size) is impacted by the size of its military when looking at all countries, but not when only looking at new democracies, suggesting capacity to contribute is less important than mission-specific drivers. In all models, as expected, the size of the mission affects contributions, where larger troop authorizations give a greater opportunity for countries to contribute. The only other consistently significant factor is the year count, where the negative coefficient denotes that countries, whether new democracies or not, have made smaller

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average contributions to missions over time. This may be the result of more countries becoming contributors, leaving less opportunity for large contributions. It could alternately reflect the increasing number of missions over the years, where states may give smaller contributions to more missions at a given time.

Model 5-7 in Table 5.4 test Hypothesis 5.2, assessing the effect of mission type on contributions for new democracies when moderated by military legacy variables (only the count model results are shown, where full results are available upon request). As evident in

Models 5, and similar to the results in Chapter 3, recent experience with a military coup appears to have no effect on a country’s troop contribution size. Specifically here, the presence of a more recent coup does not affect whether larger contributions will be made to particular types of missions, as denoted by the term interacting objective mission with years since coup.

However, as in Chapter 3, the findings show that the strength of the military at the time of democratization does play a role in contribution decisions. Model 6 shows that when a country had a larger military in terms of personnel at the time of transition, it subsequently makes larger troop contributions to certain missions. The positive and weakly statistically significant coefficient (p=0.054) for the interaction between military legacy (personnel) and objective mission predicts that where a country had a larger military prior to democratization it will make larger contributions to an objective mission than a subjective mission. This supports Hypothesis 5.2, whereby a new democracy that must deal with a larger military, and perceives a greater threat from that military, will send more troops to narrow military missions that reinforce roles of the military as a politically disengaged and autonomous entity

(objective control).

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Table 5.4: Effect of military legacy on troop contributions in new democracies using a ZINB regression.

Model 5 Model 6 Model 7 Contributiont-1 0.005* 0.005* 0.005* (0.0005) (0.001) (0.001)

Objective mission t-1 -0.711 -2.496* -6.127* (0.922) (1.239) (2.745)

Years since coup t-1 -0.006 (0.033)

Years since coup2 t-1 0.0001 (0.0004) Log military legacy (personnel)t-1 -0.401† (0.230) Log military legacy (spending)t-1 -0.361† (0.189) Log mission size t-1 0.472* 0.450* 0.460* (0.062) (0.056) (0.057)

Log GDP pct-1 -0.206 -0.241 -0.276 (0.133) (0.156) (0.189)

Log military size t-1 0.115 (0.097)

Global missionst-1 -0.004 0.012 0.007 (0.061) (0.051) (0.051)

Contiguous 0.373 0.429 0.365 (0.303) (0.282) (0.294)

Intrastate conflictt-1 -0.309 -0.186 -0.181 (0.279) (0.271) (0.269)

Δ military size t-1 0.341 (0.347) Δ military spending t-1 0.041 (0.189)

Year count -0.104* -0.108* -0.109* (0.021) (0.021) (0.020) Years since coup x objectivet-1 -0.001 (0.018) Log military legacy (personnel) 0.485† x objective missiont-1 (0.252) Log military legacy (spending) 0.441* x objective missiont-1 (0.198) Constant 2.863* 4.812* 8.031* (1.817) (2.155) (3.245)

N 4,318 3,622 3,514 Lnalpha 0.846* 0.778* 0.785* Wald c2 259.13 282.30 302.12 †p £ 0.1, *p £ 0.05. Robust standard errors clustered by contributor- mission dyad appear in parentheses. Count equation shown only.

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This is better expressed by calculating the effect of a change in military legacy on contributions to both types of mission. Since the legacy measures are logged, it is more intuitive to calculate the conditional marginal effect of an increase in military legacy when holding other covariates at their means (as opposed to calculating marginal effects across the range of values for military legacy). The conditional marginal effect indicates that a roughly ten percent increase in pre-democracy military legacy from the mean will lead a country to make an additional contribution of 0.39 peacekeepers where the mission is of the objective professionalization type. This is a very small change, comprising a 1.4 percent increase in contributions from the mean.

Model 7 tests the moderating effect of the expenditure measure of military legacy and reveal similar results to personnel legacy. Where the military enjoyed a larger budget immediately prior to democratization, the government makes larger troop contributions to objective type missions. The marginal effect of this is almost the same as with personnel legacy in Model 6: a ten percent increase from the mean value of military legacy (expenditure) leads to a contribution increase of 0.33 additional peacekeepers, which is a 1.2% increase in peacekeepers. Therefore, while there is a significant effect on the relationship between the type of mission and a country’s contribution size when accounting for pre-democratization military legacy, this does not appear to have as strong an effect on the contribution as other factors, such as the overall effect of military legacy without accounting for mission type

(Chapter 3) and the effect of the democratic composition of the mission (Chapter 4).

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Table 5.5: Effect of military legacy on troop contributions in new democracies using a ZINB regression.

Model 8 Model 9 Contributiont-1 0.005* 0.004* (0.0005) (0.0004)

Objective missiont-1 -0.913† 4.838* (0.547) (1.441)

Years since coupt-1 -0.012 -0.001 (0.026) (0.024)

Years since coup2t-1 0.0001 -5.3 x 10-6 (0.0004) (0.0003)

Log mission sizet-1 0.450* 0.457* (0.056) (0.050)

Log GDP pct-1 -0.200 -0.201 (0.140) (0.128)

Log military sizet-1 0.064 0.034 (0.088) (0.081) Global missionst-1 -0.034 -0.066 (0.053) (0.057) Contiguous 0.539 0.450 (0.373) (0.318)

Intrastate conflictt-1 -0.146 -0.089 (0.274) (0.238)

Δ GDP per capitat-1 -4.368 (7.601) Inequalityt-1 0.120* (0.041) Year count -0.072* -0.084* (0.019) (0.019)

Δ GDP per capita x objective missiont-1 3.875 (7.777)

Inequality x objective missiont-1 -0.132* (0.041) Constant 3.466* -0.994 (1.633) (1.949)

N 3,538 3,983

Lnalpha 0.530* 0.620* Wald c2 285.45 340.58 †p £ 0.1, *p £ 0.05. Robust standard errors clustered by contributor- mission dyad appear in parentheses. Count equation shown only.

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The results in Table 5.5 reflect Hypotheses 5.3, considering the effect of domestic political pressure on the type of contributions a state makes. In Model 8, the interaction of Δ

GDP per capita and objective mission is not statistically significant. This suggests that as the average citizen’s income increases from the previous year, the government is no more or less likely to contribute to a particular type of mission. Turning to the effect of income inequality, the interaction between inequality and objective mission is negative and statistically significant, indicating that countries with a higher degree of income inequality make larger contributions to multidimensional/subjective professionalization missions than objective types. This is counter to Hypothesis 5.3, and therefore supports the pursuit of subjective control by contributing states. Where political pressure arises from greater income inequality, the government may lack the capacity to undertake broad redistribution or social spending programs. In such scenarios, the government may call in the military for support, given its extensive capability to implement projects. Alternately, it may seek such professionalization in order to civilianize the military and reduce its capacity as an autonomous actor, which could make it more of a risk to the government. The substantive effect of this relationship is shown in Figure 5.1. If a mission is of the objective type, increasing inequality by one standard deviation from the mean (40.81) leads to an 11.98 percent reduction in contributed troops. Across the range of statistically significant marginal effects, a country with a Gini coefficient of 15 (low inequality) will give 4.4 more peacekeepers to an objective mission than a country with a Gini coefficient of 65 (high inequality). Put another way, at higher levels of inequality, countries make smaller contributions to objective missions, and subsequently larger contributions to subjective, multidimensional missions, ostensibly to reap certain benefits from that mission type to help resolve its domestic economic woes.

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Figure 5.1: Marginal effect of changes in income inequality on contributions to objective professionalization missions (with 95% confidence intervals; objective mission=1).

The results from all tests offer interesting insights, and identify that not only does the decision to deploy to certain types of peacekeeping mission vary depending on domestic factors, but that this decision may be susceptible to potentially competing factors. A government facing a more established and imposing military, reflected in its size and budget prior to democratization, is more likely to send troops to missions that reflect conventional military tasks: security, protection, and engaging in direct combat (Hypothesis 4.2). I have argued that one possible explanation for this is that the latent threat of such a military can be assuaged by giving it autonomy and allowing it to act more like a traditional military, rather than involving it in state capacity-building tasks that might empower and incentivize it to seek a more central role in domestic affairs at home.

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However, new democracies may find themselves in circumstances where the opposite type of professionalization is desirable. When economic conditions are likely to provoke domestic unrest and disillusionment with the democratic government, the military has often been a tool for forcing change through a coup d’état. A military professionalized more narrowly through conventional tasks may be politically disengaged, but will never the less be a strong and capable entity that can respond to the people’s demands while being considered detached and not responsible for the economic problems. In pursuing subjective, civilianizing professionalization through multidimensional deployments, the government risks training the military in domestic capacity-building tasks, potentially increasing its desire and ability to wrest control with popular support. Alternately, if sufficient control can be maintained over the military, this training can be used for good in undertaking infrastructural, humanitarian, or other programs domestically. Another explanation might be that the government does not anticipate using the military for such purposes, but instead sees civilianizing it as a tool for giving it a voice and integrating it into political decision making rather than ostracizing it through narrow professionalization (reflecting Schiff’s notion of concordance).

Regardless of the rationale, the above results support the finding that governments facing domestic pressure are more likely to send troops to multidimensional missions than conventional ones. Since this is the opposite finding to the argument testing military legacy, a tension is created for newly democratic states: a more threatening military may require objective professionalization, while domestic political unrest may require subjective professionalization.

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5.6 Conclusion

A broad focus on the effects of peacekeeping on the military and its members has thus far assumed that peacekeeping missions are generally all the same and that peacekeepers are randomly assigned to missions. However, we know from the existing literature as well as strong anecdotal evidence that governments are very selective in which missions they support with their troops. In this chapter, I have found evidence that new democracies’ deployment decisions are often informed by the type of mission to which they may be deployed, as well as by domestic factors that must account for the likely behavior of the military once it has returned with its new-found professional training. That governments are strategic in this way does not necessarily mean the desired outcome will be achieved. Indeed, the fact that theories of civil-military professionalism are entrenched in disagreement suggests the best of leaders may be misguided in their notions of what will best serve democracy in their countries. However, it is evident that competing domestic political factors, including past military legacy and current societal pressures, have an impact on the types of experiences the government seeks out for its military. Knowing that to some extent peacekeeping deployments strategically seek out particular professionalization for their soldiers paves the way for future research to identify if these government efforts are beneficial for the consolidation of democracy, or alternately if the positive and negative impacts of militaries on domestic politics are not caused by variation in their peacekeeping experience (or are perhaps overshadowed by more powerful forces), which leads to new questions of what other intervening factors make former peacekeepers more or less likely to support democratic government at home.

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CHAPTER 6 EVIDENCE FROM ARGENTINA, BANGLADESH, AND GHANA

6.1 Introduction

In this chapter, I trace the involvement of three countries in UN peacekeeping. I analyze both how domestic political factors relating to democratic transition affect the decision to contribute, and what impact this had on those countries. The first case, Argentina, illustrates not only how peacekeeping participation can have a positive effect on democratic consolidation, but provides a within-case comparison where peacekeeping was not immediately used as a method to deal with the military. This case finds at least some support for all mechanisms discussed in prior chapters: the military was placated in the short-term by the promise of sustained activity, income, and a worthwhile mission; it was socialized to democratic norms through its participation; and it was ultimately professionalized to be a politically-disengaged entity far removed from its previous role of political domination.

Moreover, UNPKO involvement allowed the government to redirect public funds to social needs and restore economic stability.

The second case looks at the complex relationship between the military and democracy in Bangladesh over recent decades. Intervention by the military in politics, whether direct or indirect, has been a recurrent theme in Bangladesh. Despite being one of the largest

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contributors of peacekeepers, and having avoided a military coup since 1982, the refusal of the two major parties to remove the military from politics has led to its continued involvement and resulting political instability. The continued politicization of the Armed

Forces has failed to extricate it from political matters, showing the limited effect of peacekeeping activity for a military where certain domestic conditions are not simultaneously implemented.

Finally, the case of Ghana shows how several attempts to establish democracy were unsuccessful at deterring the intervention of the military. Only after the transition in 2000, when peacekeeping became a central aspect of Ghana’s military and foreign policy, did the threat of coups dissipate. Ghana’s commitment to peacekeeping outstrips that of most other countries and has shown substantial effects, primarily in placating the economic grievances of its soldiers and in offering the military a path to professionalization in exchange for a smaller role in political matters.

6.1.1 Case Selection

While it is outside the scope of this project to provide broad, cross-national evidence of the effect of peacekeeping on contributing countries, these three cases give support to the argument that civil-military relations and democracy can benefit from such activity. These cases are, however, not intended to give proof of a causal effect, nor to offer conclusions that are necessarily generalizable to other countries. In order to do so, more rigorous analysis would be required, including assessing cases where the hypothesized outcome is not observed despite the same input factors, or where it is observed despite the absence of those factors

(see Geddes 1990). In this regard, the cases in this chapter should be considered illustrative of the arguments made, but not a confirmation of a causal relationship.

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Beyond this, the three chosen cases exhibit variation in their inputs, which offers greater validity to the conclusions. Not only are they from different regions: Latin America,

South Asia, and West Africa, but they also experienced democratization at different times:

Argentina in 1983, Bangladesh in 1991, and Ghana in 2000. This provides a challenge to the argument that developing or democratizing countries all engaged in peacekeeping around the same time (i.e. after the conclusion of the Cold War) when peacekeeping expanded and demanded a much greater number of contributed troops. Lastly, the fact that two of the cases involve democratization prior to 1992, when troop deployment data begin, helps expand the application of my argument beyond simply what is available in the quantitative data.

6.2 Argentina: From Military Dictatorship to Civilian Subordination

If the UN made a point to tout its capacity to reform militaries and support democratic consolidation in troop-contributing countries through peacekeeping participation, Argentina would likely be the poster child for the campaign. After years of political turbulence at the hands of a bloated and vicious military, Argentina was able to successfully transition to stable democracy in the 1980s and reconfigure civil-military relations to bring the institution under the control of the democratic civilian government. That this occurred remains somewhat bemusing, given the power wielded by the military for so long. Yet such a transformation nonetheless resulted from a concerted effort by the Menem government, a centerpiece of which was involvement of the military in UN peacekeeping. While some may argue that

Argentina’s heavy involvement in peacekeeping was due to a desire for greater international reputation, I argue here that the primary purpose of this activity was to transform the military into a democratic institution without risking a major backlash.

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The case of Argentina illustrates all three mechanisms discussed in previous chapters.

First, military deployments served to assuage the immediate risk of a rebellion in the face of calls to demilitarize and punish those guilty of past offences. In so doing, it also found a way to reignite economic growth and establish legitimacy with society. Second, the government was strategic in supporting missions that would maximize the military’s exposure to democratic norms. Third, strategic choices were also made to reinforce a narrow, detached concept of the military by focusing their efforts primarily on conventional, objective professionalization missions. Through the latter two mechanisms, the military’s raison d’être was redirected and it became a functioning and subordinate component of a democratic system.

The legacy of Argentina’s involvement in UNPKOs is evident, not only in the consolidation of democracy, which would almost certainly not have occurred without the redirection of the military to peacekeeping, but also its subsequent role as a flag-bearer of peacekeeping missions, supporting the new wave of contributors that could benefit greatly from Argentina’s example. In the following chapter, I analyze this transition from military dictatorship to democratic society, highlighting earlier failed attempts by the democratic government to bring the military under its control, and explaining how the specific policies of the Menem government, largely revolving around UN peacekeeping involvement, were successful in bringing about this change.

6.2.1 The Military Years

Although most accounts of Argentina’s struggle against the military relate to the

Dirty War of the 1970s and 1980s, the influence of the military in domestic politics dates back much further. It began to establish its prominence as a political force in the late

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nineteenth century, culminating in the 1930 coup upon which it gave itself the title of

“guardian of the nation” (Hunter 1996, 11). Thereafter, it sought to wrest power from any government it perceived as a threat to the integrity of the country, becoming a distinct and powerful independent political force (Norden 1995, 3). This political influence was further emboldened by a rapidly increasing military industrial complex (Hunter 1996, 11). The culmination of this influence came with the takeover in 1966, which established a governing military regime that would last until 1973, and again from 1976 to 1983. The years of the latter period, entitled the “Proceso de Reorganización Nacional”, but known more colloquially as the “Dirty War”, set in motion the factors that would ultimately bring about the regime’s demise. Widespread human rights abuses, including the death or disappearance of up to

30,000 Argentinians, turned public opinion against the military. In an attempt to restore its image and legitimacy, it engaged in the 1982 Falklands/Malvinas conflict with the United

Kingdom, although devastating defeat only solidified the opposition. Added to this was the regime’s massive mismanagement of the economy. These three factors: human rights abuses, military defeat, and economic decline, ultimately paved the way for a democratic transition

(Hunter 1996, 11).

6.2.2 Alfonsín and Demilitarization

When the first president elected in the newly democratic regime, Raul Alfonsín, came to power in 1983, he inherited the many problems caused by the military regime, while facing substantial domestic pressure to punish and reform the institution of the military. While its loss of legitimacy fostered in the military an understanding and acceptance that it would adopt a more subdued political role going forward, it would not be a foregone conclusion that

Alfonsín would manage to successfully achieve this. Indeed, stripping the military of its

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praetorian tendency would prove to be very difficult. Alfonsín embarked on sweeping reform of, and retribution against, the military. First, a large number of military leaders were tried and imprisoned for their roles in human rights violations. That these trials occurred in civilian courts added insult to injury (Worboys 2007, 152). He further sought to swiftly and comprehensively remove political influence from the military by creating a Ministry of

Defense, upon which he transferred all major decision-making authority to the new institution (152). His 1988 National Defense Law further removed any role of the military in domestic politics, particularly in the area of internal security. Lastly, Alfonsín’s reforms focused on massive demilitarization, stripping the military of the resources that might perpetuate its strength, while also symbolically appeasing the frustrations of society.

Between 1982 and 1989, defense expenditure both in actual terms and as a proportion of public sector expenditure was cut almost in half, while armed forces personnel were reduced from 175,000 to 95,000 (Hunter 1996, 12).

Contrasting opinions exist regarding Alfonsín’s reforms. On the one hand, he faced huge domestic pressure to punish and reform the military. Moreover, the sheer legacy of the military provoked a sense of urgency in taking back political control of the country. In these regards, there may have been some justification, if not necessity, to his extreme approach

(Worboys 2007, 152). However, more common is the opinion that Alfonsín’s reforms were both excessive and misguided. Undergirding his approach was a desire to exclude and shackle the military, rather than incorporate it into the democratic order as a supportive and subordinate entity. In this way, Alfonsín’s approach resembled Huntington’s (1957) warning against subjective professionalization. The military was not redirected as a more professional entity, focused primarily on external missions, but rather was subjected to excessive civilian oversight in an attempt to subdue, rather than repurpose, the armed forces. This ultimately failed to strip the military of its political inclinations, instead inadvertently spurring it to

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hold on to what influence it could. The almost inevitable result was a backlash from the military, manifested through three rebellions between April 1987 and December 1988

(Hunter 1996, 13). While the government survived, it emphasized the misguided policies of

Alfonsín and ultimately led to a change in power as Carlos Menem was elected president in

1989.

6.2.3 Menem and Redirection

Menem inherited a military with no clear purpose or direction and having been denied any investment in its reprofessionalization. He immediately departed from the existing posture, seeking instead to effectively coopt the armed forces into the democratic system. One of his first steps in defusing the tension was to pardon those military leaders found guilty of human rights abuses. Though controversial, Menem considered this a necessary concession in a larger plan to reconfigure civil-military relations. He also curbed the slashing of military budgets, although expenditures and personnel levels still dropped between 1989 and 1993: from $4.9 billion to $4.2 billion, and from 95,000 personnel to 65,000 (Hunter 1996, 14-15).

These efforts were driven more by broader economic policy and pressure from international lending institutions than demilitarization and would ultimately contribute to slowing down inflation and reigniting economic growth into the 1990s (14).

Perhaps the most important redirection under Menem was facilitating a new role for the military that would be acceptable to all parties and support both democratic consolidation and economic development. Reflecting Huntington’s notion of objective control, this orientation would give the military a clear purpose, a degree of autonomy, and a sense of empowerment and prestige that would nonetheless disengage it from domestic politics. The

National Defense Law had stripped the military of its wide-ranging roles in internal security.

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However, improvements in regional and global diplomatic relations in the early years of democracy meant there were few external security threats to which the military could turn its attention (Sotomayor 2010, 180). While under Alfonsín this left the military with no specific role, Menem turned to international peacekeeping as an alternative external mission that would accomplish the desired outcome. Peacekeeping would thus become the centerpiece of Menem’s defense policy (Hunter 1996, 17). Involvement in peacekeeping would redirect the military’s attention, give it a defined purpose, allow it to practice its profession in an acceptable manner, and expose it to norms of democratic civil-military relations.

Furthermore, it would offset the frustration of continued reduction in defense expenditure.

Although the benefits of this plan would take time to diffuse throughout the entire military, it was sufficient to stave off a rebellion in 1989, in which the military formed part of the resistance to the small revolt (Hunter, 14).

6.2.4 Trends in Contributions

Although Argentina had participated in UNPKOs in some capacity since the 1950s, it had only done so with very small numbers (Norden 1995, 1). Its first major foray into the peacekeeping world was in 1990, when around 600 troops were sent to support the United

Nations-sanctioned and U.S.-led blockade of Iraq (Norden 1995, 2). In the subsequent years, large contingents were deployed to missions in Croatia, Somalia, Cyprus, Haiti, and Angola

(Hunter 1996, 7). Between 1992 and 1996, Argentina was Latin America’s largest suppliers of troops to UNPKOs and was in the top five contributors worldwide (Sotomayor 2010, 181).

Figure 6.1 shows the trend in annual contributions, where a sharp increase is observed in the years after Menem came to power. Sotomayor (2010) identifies three phases in

Argentina’s contributions that are reflected in the graph. The first, from 1990 to 1997,

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Figure 6.1: Argentina’s military deployment to all missions, 1992-2011

involves Menem’s attempts to redirect the military and stabilize civil-military relations, while also pursuing a new foreign policy agenda that would seek improved credibility in the eyes of the world. The second phase, from 1998 to 2002, was marked by economic decline in the country that resulted in the collapse of the currency and ultimately economic depression.

Although peacekeeping revenues were profitable for individual soldiers, as a middle-income economy it had become a less cost-effective venture over the years (Sotomayor 2014, 45). It was thus forced to reduce its commitments to UNPKOs during this period (183).23 The third phase, from 2004 onward, reflected the desire of the government to embark on a new foreign policy of increased cooperation within the Mercosur countries, while also checking the increasing influence of Brazil (183-184). This resulted in a return to making larger

23 There is a clear decline in commitments starting in 1995. This is partly explained by shifting economic factors, but more so by the conclusion of some missions to which Argentina had made large contributions (UNCRO and UNPROFOR).

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contributions. By this time, Menem had been replaced as economic decline festered and he faced a term limit to reelection. This phase, then, reflects the foreign policy of administrations further removed from the earlier attempts to reconfigure civil-military relations in

Argentina.

6.2.5 Short-Term Appeasement

In the immediate term, involving the military in peacekeeping would reduce its existential crises created under the Alfonsín regime and assuage its fears of further punishment and dismantling. For individual soldiers, peacekeeping offered the promise of foreign travel experiences, which would have been rare for an Argentinian soldier up to that point (Norden 1995, 7). It would also be professionally appealing, where soldiers would interact with more professional and well-trained militaries from other countries, gaining valuable knowledge and expertise (Hunter 1996, 17). Perhaps more importantly, peacekeeping provided soldiers with a comfortable salary. Where a sergeant would earn around $760 per month prior to the 2001 depression, a peacekeeper would make approximately $1,400 (Sotomayor 2014, 45). This, in addition to the underlying fear that their salaries might be taken away altogether with continued personnel downsizing, offered a sizeable incentive for troops. Lastly, soldiers would be given the chance to do what they were trained to do – activity that had been suppressed and vilified under Alfonsi – but to do so in a positive, publicly welcomed, fashion (Norden 1995, 8).

At the institutional level, peacekeeping would not only give the military a new purpose, but would reinforce some of its prior tendencies in a form that did not threaten political stability. The military was largely vitiated by the Alfonsín regime, which sought to strip it of its self-perception as the guardian of the nation and savior of the people.

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Peacekeeping would restore and support this positive self-image, although in a more internationalized form as the protector of people in other countries (Worboys 2007, 158). This new mission therefore allowed the military to employ its training and maintain credibility and status, but to do so in a way that did not interfere with domestic politics.

One immediate benefit of peacekeeping participation was allowing Menem to continue reducing the military’s capacity for the sake of domestic economic growth without causing a major backlash, as had occurred under Alfonsín. Menem continued to divert funding away from defense and into other key areas as part of his broader plan to liberalize. Formerly nationalized entities such as railroads, oilfields, airlines, and telecommunications companies, were privatized (Norden 1995, 5). Foreign trade was boosted by joining the GATT and reducing protectionist measures (5-6). Within two years of his presidency, inflation had been brought under control and economic growth was occurring. In just three years, from 1989 to

1992, per capita income in Argentina (in current US Dollars) rose from $2,973 to $4,903, a sixty-five percent increase (Gleditsch 2002). Therefore, not only would the short-term impact of peacekeeping satisfy the military and prevent a major backlash to its reform, but society would be appeased both by the increasing control over the military and the reprioritization of government spending in order to improve citizens’ economic conditions.

6.2.6 Long-Term Transformation

Beyond appeasing the military at the institutional level, the Menem government actively sought to diffuse the benefits of peacekeeping as broadly throughout the military as possible. This suggests that a greater incentive to involve the military was to seek its long- term reorientation towards democracy through the socialization and professionalization of its members. One indication of this is the seemingly inefficient rotation of peacekeepers.

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While many militaries would create small, specialized peacekeeping units (Worboys 2007,

153), the Argentinian government sought to extend peacekeeping experience to its soldiers broadly. Within only the first half-decade of involvement, around forty percent of the country’s commissioned officers gained UNPKO experience in some form (Sotomayor 2010,

181). Indeed, the financial incentives of deployment alone would likely be insufficient to suppress rumblings within the military as its role continued to be recast. Successfully incorporating the military into a democratic system of governance would require the large- scale transformation of individual military attitudes, which would then pass from individual to institution. For this to occur, soldiers would have to divest their view of the military as a politically-central institution unbeholden to civilian authority and entrenched in nationalism. That Argentina’s military embraced peacekeeping to the extent that it did is therefore a major testament to its transformation. Not only would peacekeeping indicate deference to the civilian government in sending it to foreign missions, but also subordination to an international entity. Worboys (2007, 156-157) notes the inherent challenge of sending

Argentinian soldiers to operate under the flag of the UN and not their own. The gulf between the military’s previous self-perception and its willingness to come under the authority of a multilateral entity pursuing peace in other countries is evidence enough that the mentality of the military shifted dramatically in those years. This is illustrated in the attitudes of the soldiers towards peacekeeping. According to a study conducted by Fitch (1995) through interviews with Argentina’s soldiers, only 3% supported peacekeeping as a military mission in 1985, while the number jumped to 81% by 1992. Attitudes towards the military’s domestic role simultaneously shifted. Fitch found that while 70% of soldiers believed that internal security was one of the military’s missions in 1985, only 30% believed the same in 1992. Thus, attitudes were shaped by more than just financial and professional incentives. Rather, a

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broad ideological shift occurred that made the military much more amenable to a democratic conception of the military role.

The shift in military role and attitude would take place through both socializing and professionalizing processes. Starting in 1995, socialization to UN and democratic norms occurred before deployment through comprehensive peacekeeper training implemented by the government. This was accomplished by establishing CAECOPAZ (Centro Argentino de

Entrenamiento Conjunto Para Operaciones de Paz), which sought to prepare troops for deployment by bringing them into a better understanding of UN norms and procedures. The components of training were often outside that of prior domestic military training, focusing on such subjects as cultural and religious awareness, international law, human rights, negotiation and diplomacy, impartiality, and civil-military relations (Worboys 2007, 158;

Sotomayor 2014, 74). Until the financial crisis in 2001, the United States assisted in supporting the training center (Sotomayor 2014, 74), adding further democratic influence.

The effectiveness of the training center would be illustrated by multiple other countries eventually sending their own peacekeepers to be trained there.

Beyond this, Argentina appears to have been strategic in its mission deployment to maximize democratic socialization and objective professionalization. Regarding socialization, it sent heavy contingents to six missions in the 1990s: ONUMOZ in Mozambique, UNCRO in

Croatia, UNFICYP in Cyprus, UNIKOM in Iraq, and UNPROFOR and UNTAES in the

Balkans.24 Four of these missions took place in Europe and were predominantly staffed by

European and other Western countries, with some of the largest contributions coming from

Canada, the Czech Republic, France, Belgium, and Poland. Similar patterns were observed in UNPROFOR and UNTAES. UNFICYP, long recognized as a Western-dominated mission,

24 It also made a major contribution to MINUSTAH in Haiti, although this mission was established in 2004, after the Menem government and largely driven by factors other than military redirection.

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gives a clearer picture. Between 1992 and 2011, Argentina was the only non-European country to make a sizable contribution of troops. In total, it gave 29.2% of all troops during this period, second only to the United Kingdom. This equated to an average monthly deployment of 370 soldiers. By comparison, Chile made an average contribution of fifteen,

Peru gave two, and Brazil and Uruguay sent only one. These deployments indicate a strong desire by the government for its military to serve alongside militaries with an established record of healthy civil-military relations. Of the remaining cases, involvement in UNIKOM was, to a large extent, and attempt to both serve alongside, and curry the favor of, the United

States, whose economic military partnership would be critical to Menem’s policy agenda

(Norden 1995, 5-6).

In addition to sending troops to serve alongside strongly democratic militaries, the government also appears to have been strategic in sending personnel to missions of an objective professionalization nature, in order to establish the military as a politically disengaged force focus primarily on missions resembling external security and involving narrow military tasks. Figure 6.2 shows the total number of military personnel contributed by Argentina between 1992 and 2011, broken down by the type of mission to which they were sent. Overwhelmingly, Argentina chose to send troops to objective professionalization missions, and sent less than 1% to multidimensional missions.

Through a combination of professionalizing the military in peacekeeping operations and reconfiguring the military’s role domestically, the Menem government effectively subordinated the military and reduced its participation in politics to being largely advisory, focusing only on issues of defense and foreign policy. Internal security, once the primary domain of the military, now involves the military only in auxiliary and emergency situations, which has largely been reduced to logistics support for drug interdiction and disaster relief

(Hunter 1996, 14-15).

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Figure 6.2: Deployment of Argentinian military personnel by mission type, 1992-2011.

Multidimensional Observer 123 718 0.77% 4.51%

Enforcement Traditional 8,304 6,773 52.17% 42.55%

Data source: Kathman (2013); Doyle & Sambanis (2006).

In conclusion, the effective subordination of the once-dominant military under the

Menem government proved pivotal in establishing democracy in Argentina. While it is unclear if the prior efforts of Alfonsín in some form paved the way for Menem to carry out his policies, it is almost certain that, without the shift in policy brought about by Menem, democracy may not have survived long. Menem’s central policy of redirecting the military’s mission and reintegrating it into the democratic order, rather than pursuing a course of demilitarization and exclusion, contributed to the reorientation of the military’s institutional raison d’être, one that would become largely popular among its members and create the conditions for a sustainable path to democratic stability. These policies carefully balanced

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the demands of society, which sought the punishment of the military and a quick economic turnaround, with the need avoid excessive reform of the military that might incite repeats of prior rebellions. The success of this approach is articulated well by former Defense Minister

Oscar Camilión, stating that peacekeeping has not only “given members of the armed forces a deep feeling of professional pride, but also an international outlook which is very much helping to consolidate the military as a pillar of the constitutional system” (Camilión 1995,

15).

6.2.7 Other Explanations

As others have argued, Argentina’s incentives to contribute to UNPKOs were not driven purely by its desire to subordinate the military. A major alternative argument is that

Argentina, like others similarly seeking to transition to stable democracy and economic growth, sought to improve its international reputation, proving itself as a credible democracy and thereby inviting both diplomatic favor and economic investment. These incentives certainly played at least a partial role for Argentina. Norden (1995) discusses how

Argentina’s UNPKO involvement was in part an attempt to curry favor with the United

States. Moreover, Menem was explicit in his desire to attract greater foreign investment

(Worboys 2007, 160). Having improved international credibility would also stand Argentina in a better position when negotiating its international obligations, such as its IMF debt

(Norden 1995, 10).

However, I argue that the dominant motivation for peacekeeping participation was to address the threat of the military. One indication that this is true lies in the troop contribution patterns of Argentina. Coleman (2013) argues that reputational benefits are a primary driver of UNPKO contributions for countries, and that an efficient means to this end

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is to make “token” peacekeeping contributions, where small contingents (less than forty) are sent to a broad number of missions, rather than sending large deployments to a select few missions. It is apparent that there are diminishing returns in terms of international reputation for making larger single mission deployments, whereas greater prestige can be gained from participating in a larger number of missions. Coleman writes:

“[T]oken contributions attract a positive recognition that is often disproportionate to their military impact. Actors outside of the UN system, including domestic publics, often have limited information about the size of national troop contributions and/or care principally about whether their country is participating, rather than at what level. Token contributions allow states to claim participation in a mission. Reflecting on the lone Canadian officer in UNFICYP, the mission’s Senior Adviser noted that outside UNFICYP headquarters ‘the Canadian flag flies as proudly as the Argentinian or British or Slovak flag. Because flags don’t distinguish between the numbers of contributing countries’ troops.’ …UN officials acknowledge this as a general dynamic: ‘it sounds better if you say that we’re contributing to ten different missions, and you don’t have to go into the details of how many people you send’” (58).

Given this insight, a primarily international incentive for contributing troops to

UNPKOs would see Argentina participate in many missions with smaller deployments to each. However, this has not been the case. Coleman identifies 83 out of 89 contributing countries in 2011 that engage – in part or in whole – in token contributing. Argentina was one of the remaining six countries, along with South Africa, Italy, Morocco, Portugal,

Slovakia, and South Africa (50). Of those six, only Argentina and South Africa gave strictly to UN missions, while the remaining four participated in non-UN operations (68). Argentina’s average mission contribution systematically exceeds the standard token contribution. Even if it were an attempt to be seen as the largest contributor in its own region, Argentina gave around double the number of troops as Brazil between 1990 and 1997, despite Brazil having the region’s largest military (Sotomayor 2010, 163). Findlay (2011, 111) supports the notion that Argentina has alternative incentives than international reputation, stating that, “while

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other Latin American countries have regularly participated in UNPKOs, unlike Argentina their contributions have been largely symbolic.”

Not only has Argentina made much larger than token contributions, but it has also been more selective in the missions it chooses. Argentina restricted its large contributions to only seven missions between 1992 and 2011, while making small contributions (less than forty) to eleven other missions. Comparatively, Brazil also made large contributions to seven missions, but sent small contingents to twenty-six missions.

A related argument is that Argentina’s participation has been an attempt to gain the favor of other countries and encourage greater financial flows into the country. Certainly, its improved reputation has helped in building diplomatic ties with countries like the United

States, as well as giving it more favorable loan terms from international financial institutions. However, once again this only appears to account in part for Argentina’s drive to contribute troops to UNPKOs. Boutton and D’Orazio (2017, 13) graph UNPKO contributions against OECD aid inflows, arguing that countries receiving more aid make larger contributions (although the reverse might also be argued: countries making larger contributions receive more foreign aid as a result). Argentina is one of several outliers that give a much greater number of peacekeepers than the relationship trend line predicts (others include Ukraine, South Africa, Uruguay, and Fiji, all of which democratized in recent decades). This finding supports the argument that something else has driven Argentina’s large contributions over the years.

While these arguments do not preclude Argentina from seeking international reputation from its participation, its contribution patterns reflect an inefficient means of doing so. Rather, the dominant incentive for Argentina appears to warrant larger, more selective deployments, and thus is likely better explained by military reasons.

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One final item to note is that the Argentina case supports the underlying argument throughout this project that civilian governments not only seek strategic deployment of the military, but have the capacity to do so. It might be argued that while peacekeeping involvement is an ideal policy for the government, the military possesses ultimately control over such activities and can choose both if it should be deployed, and to which missions if it is. Although the nature of this state-military relationship will vary from case to case,

Argentina’s example shows that the state is the dominant decision-maker in this venture, despite having a powerful and politically engaged military. Menem received little resistance to his plan, and deployments to UNPKOs followed soon after his coming to power. This, despite the fact that peacekeeping was not popular among the military. Bellamy and

Williams (2011, 16-17) offer the following:

“[W]hile armed forces contribute to policy-making, they do not determine it, except in military regimes. In the early 1990s, Argentina began participating in UN peace operations despite objections from the military, though over time the military came to endorse this new role through a combination of socialization and domestic legitimation, institutional learning about how peacekeeping strengthens military professionalism, and material rewards.”

Thus, the adoption of the military into support for peacekeeping was a gradual process, but not one that prevented their heavy participation in UNPKOs from the early days of the

Menem administration.

6.3 Bangladesh: Blurred Divisions and Tenuous Civilian Control

If Argentina is a “best-case” scenario of peacekeeping involvement as a tool for reducing the domestic threat of the military and allowing democracy to take root, Bangladesh provides a more cautionary tale. Both countries transitioned to democracy in the wake of military dictatorships and faced the same challenges of appeasing and repurposing the military while building democratic legitimacy and economic growth for broader society. Yet,

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while Bangladesh has been an even larger contributor of peacekeepers than Argentina over the years, it has not yielded positive outcomes to quite the same extent. Although democratic government was in place from 1991 to 2007, and largely restored after a “caretaker” interim from 2007 to 2008, destabilizing factors have been ever present due to poor government leadership, persistent societal and political division, and the failure to establish a model of civil-military relations that brings the armed forces under the authority of the civilian government. The fact that a coup has not occurred since 1982 is a considerable success for a country with such a strong and politically active military. At the same time, that these characteristics persist leads one to be sober in analyzing the positive changes and their sustainability. In short, the future stability of Bangladesh’s democracy remains uncertain.

More relevant for this project, these conditions also illustrate the underlying complexities in the relationship between peacekeeping involvement and democratic consolidation, where one of the world’s largest contributors of peacekeepers continues to experience struggling democracy.

6.3.1 From Military Rule to the UN’s Primary Flag-Bearer

Since its entry into peacekeeping activity in 1988, Bangladesh has established itself as one of the most reliable participants in UNPKOs and consistently ranks among the top global contributors. This is a far cry from previous decades, where the military’s primary focus was domestic political matters, manifested ultimately in several coups and two extended periods of military dictatorship from 1975-1981 and 1982-1990. How can this transition be explained? And more importantly, to what extent has Bangladesh’s involvement in peacekeeping contributed to reorienting civil-military relations and fostering the conditions for democracy to take root?

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Bangladesh made its first contribution to UN peacekeeping in 1988, much later than its neighbors India and Pakistan, sending fifteen military observers to the Iran-Iraq Military

Observer Group (UNIIMOG). The following year, it deployed 25 observers to the UN

Transition Assistance Group (UNTAG) overseeing the independence of Namibia

(Krishnasamy 2003, 25). In the years since, Bangladesh has consistently been a top-five contributor of personnel to UNPKOs. In 2003, the Bangladeshi Armed Forces Division reported that over 144,000 members of the military had participated in 54 missions in 40 countries (Armed Forces Division 2013). Figure 6.3 plots the average monthly contribution of troops from 1992 to 2011 according to data from Kathman (2013). Like Argentina, contributions dipped after several missions ended in 1995, but never far below 1,000 personnel in an average month. Moreover, contributions saw a sharp increase after 2000, peaking in 2006 where almost 9,500 troops were deployed in an average month.

Figure 6.3: Bangladesh’s military deployment to all missions, 1992-2011.

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Figure 6.4 puts Bangladesh’s contributions into perspective. The graph shows the average monthly deployment of the ten largest troop contributing countries from 1992-2011, where South Asian countries have clearly been a dominant force. Bangladesh’s contribution is second only to that of Pakistan and is greater than India’s. This is more remarkable when considering the capacity of its neighboring militaries: in 2011, Bangladesh’s military expenditure was $1.48 billion, while India and Pakistan spent $36.12 billion and $5.47 billion respectively.

Figure 6.4: Average monthly deployment of ten largest contributors, 1992-2011.

The reasons behind Bangladesh’s heavy involvement in peacekeeping are numerous.

A prominent explanation is the country’s desire to improve its international standing, showing its commitment to international peace and security (Avezov 2014, 268). As a country of limited means for shaping global affairs, peacekeeping is an ideal way to accomplish this.

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In fact, a commitment to peaceful international relations and respect for international law is written into its constitution (268). A more common explanation than altruistic motivation is

Bangladesh’s desire to attract foreign aid and investment to support its economic growth.

Given its consistent problems of under-development and poor economic growth, being a global leader in the pursuit of peace is a way to repair the image of the country, and particularly its military, and encourage greater external support (Krishnasamy 2003, 37). Yet if this is a major motivation, it seems Bangladesh’s efforts are misguided. Consistent mismanagement of the national economy and inefficient use of prior aid, as well as ongoing political instability, have left foreign donors and investors reluctant to target Bangladesh (Krishnasamy 2003,

38).

Another possible, but less commonly argued, motivation for peacekeeping contributions is that Bangladesh seeks to maintain a large military in order to address external security threats. Indeed, this would explain why the neighboring countries of India,

Pakistan, and Bangladesh have been the largest contributors to UNPKOs over the years, as they jostle for supremacy in the region and use peacekeeping as a signal of resolve. This argument receives little support in existing accounts of Bangladesh’s peacekeeping activity, however, not only because its military strength is relatively small in comparison to its neighbors, but also due to the fact that there is little evidence that Bangladesh has any significant security concerns in this regard, or further afield (Zaman and Biswas 2014, 330).

Evidence suggests that the strongest of Bangladesh’s incentives for heavy peacekeeping participation relates to civil-military matters, and the pursuit of political stability more broadly. Accounts of Bangladesh’s UNPKO involvement consistently identify factors such as the desire to stop the military meddling in domestic politics, supplementing the defense budget, appeasing armed forces personnel in the wake of political transition, and exposing soldiers to socializing and professionalizing forces in the field (Avezov 2014;

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Krishnasamy 2003; Murdie 2007; Zaman and Biswas 2014). All of these factors, as argued throughout this study, are integral to supporting the effective integration of the military into a stable democratic system. Indeed, peacekeeping has allowed for the widespread modernization and professionalization of the Bangladeshi military, and while its history is littered with military interventions, there has not been a successful coup since 1982 despite the country’s weak political institutions and poor government performance. It is therefore clear that participation in peacekeeping has been highly motivated by a desire to address civil-military relations, and that this has, to some extent, been a successful venture.

6.3.2 Military Rule in the Post Independence Years

Bangladesh achieved its independence from Pakistan after a violent struggle in 1971.

Led by Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, the Awami League (AL) political party would form the first

Bangladeshi government. The AL held a majority of seats in the Pakistani legislature prior to partition, despite only winning seats in what was then East Pakistan and was the natural choice to form a government given Rahman’s role in the independence fight. The government initially resembled an effective democracy (it received a Polity score of +8 for 1972 and 1973), although increasing fractionalization and power-tussling would threaten the fledgling government. In particular, the military experienced major division stemming from the War of Liberation. In coopting broader civilian society into the struggle, the distinction between military and civilian spheres was blurred (Wolf 2013, 14). In addition, confrontation arose between the ‘Freedom Fighters’ from the war and Bengali soldiers confined to West Pakistan who were repatriated after liberation. In addition to naturally-occurring divisions between the two groups, the civilian government played the two factions against one another, giving senior positions to Freedom Fighters but maintaining a numerical majority of the repatriates

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(14). The two groups were also divided along ideological lines. While many of the Freedom

Fighters favored more egalitarian socialist policies from the new government, which would give the military a central role in economic and development activities, conservative sectors of the military, most of whom were repatriates, favored an externally-focused, apolitical military that would not play a central role in post-independence development (15). The result of these early years was a divided and politicized military. In addition to fueling internal cleavages within the military, the AL government also sought to bring the armed forces under civilian control through a series of weakening measures.

Amid the division within the military and the government’s failure to deliver

Bangladesh to a position of stability post-independence, widespread disillusionment occurred

(Zaman and Biswas 2014, 333). As a result, in August 1975, a group of frustrated army officers staged a coup, during which Prime Minister Rahman was assassinated. Existing divisions and disagreement over the future course of government led to violence within the armed forces, which resulted in power being assumed by Major General Ziaur Rahman (Zia), establishing Bangladesh’s first military regime.

Zia set an immediate course to bring the military into order. As part of this, he removed leftist elements from positions of authority and pursued the military’s modernization and growth (Wolf 2013, 16). By the time of his assassination in 1981, Zia had overseen the execution of some 400 dissenting officers, the removal of all but two or three

Freedom Fighters from his top fifty officers, and the raising of new personnel units that would leave Freedom Fighters as comprising only around 15 percent of total personnel (Bertocci

1982, 996). He also strengthened the military’s grip on political and social power by bringing uniformed personnel into top government positions and removing civilian involvement in public policy, internal security, and national defense (16-17). Finally, he attempted to weaken the AL by creating the Bangladesh National Party, which would establish a polarized two-

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party system that would cause myriad problems for years to come. Indeed, it was this effort that initially alienated the AL and led to his assassination (17).

Zia was succeeded by his Vice President, Abdus Sattar, and plans for an imminent presidential election were made. Sattar stood as the BNP candidate, while the AL selected

Kamal Hossain, a former Foreign Minister under the Rahman government (Bertocci 1982,

999). The regime did not anticipate growing support for the AL, as well as a resurgence of

Freedom Fighter factions conducting protests. Although Sattar won the election with 66%, sufficient instability was present to reduce the military’s confidence in the new government.

With the addition of poor economic management, division within the BNP, and claims of corruption, the military had its opportunity to once again assume control (989). Its leader,

Lieutenant General Hussain Muhammad Ershad, had served as Commander-in-Chief under

Zia and became an emphatic voice during the 1981 interim. He was unequivocal in his demand for a central role for the military within the new government. This included the creation of a National Security Council, consisting only of the President, Vice President, and three military heads, which would give the military a role in national security and development broadly defined (1000). With the military’s continued role in governing, and the instability of the Sattar regime, there was little surprise when Ershad mounted a coup in

1982 and reestablished military rule in Bangladesh. The Ershad regime was marked by major domestic reform and the substantial militarization of civil administration, giving it far greater political influence than under the Zia regime (Zaman and Biswas 2014, 334). In fact, the extreme nature of his reforms incited increasing public discontent and demands for democracy. It was in the face of these pressures that Ershad resigned in 1990, bringing an end to Bangladesh’s second period of military rule.

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6.3.3 Democratization and Global Engagement

The democratically-elected parliament that was formed after elections in 1991 inherited a country steeped in political division and bureaucratic dysfunction. The military had enjoyed power for the best part of two decades and remained a highly-politicized institution. Issues of foreign policy and internal security had become almost exclusively the remit of the armed forces, while it saw itself as the rightful guardian of most other domestic areas as well. Indeed, amid all the fractionalization and political ineptitude, the military stood as perhaps the most well-organized and resourced institution upon democratic transition (Krishnasamy 2003, 39). It is therefore unsurprising that it would continue to play a major political role if not adequately dealt with by the new government.

Attempts to bring the military under civilian control in the new regime were sweeping.

The presidential form of government was replaced with a parliamentary system, where the prime minister would not only assume more power than the president but would also take on a more authoritative role vis-à-vis the armed forces. The Armed Forces Division,

Bangladesh’s body established to coordinate the branches of the military and advise on all military affairs, was brought under civilian control (Wolfe 2013, 18). Perhaps the most significant element of the government’s plan to subordinate the military was its heavy participation in UN peacekeeping. This participation cannot be wholly attributed to the strategic redirection of the military by the nascent democratic government: it had made its first deployment three years prior under the Ershad regime. And while its contribution sizes increased vastly in the post-transition years, this is at least partly due to the expansion of

UN peacekeeping around the same time, both in the number and size of missions, which necessitated larger contributions from more countries. However, it is indisputable that the democratic government leaned into its role as a troop contributor in order to manage the armed forces and prevent a recurrence of military takeover. This is best illustrated in the

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fact that a country with a relatively small military but a strong military legacy would become a top global contributor of peacekeepers in the subsequent two decades. On a broad level, this strategy appears to have worked: there has been no military takeover of government since the 1982 coup, and democracy has persisted for most of the period since 1991. The fact that a 1996 coup attempt by a faction of the military was suppressed, and that the military did not assume full control of the government during the 2007 interim period, may also be a testament to this transformation. Yet, although a full return to military power has not occurred, the continued political influence of the military throughout this period gives caution to the notion that civil-military relations are fully supportive of democratic government.

Indeed, it would be premature to suggest that democracy has been fully consolidated in

Bangladesh.

Bangladesh’s ascendancy as a peacekeeping contributor came swiftly after democratization. Having contributed only a handful of military observers to a few missions in 1988 and 1989, it made substantial deployments in the following years. Between 1990 and

1994, it sent troops to fifteen of eighteen missions in diverse locations such as Cambodia,

Somalia, Yugoslavia, and Haiti (Krishnasamy 2003, 30). The motivations behind these large contributions are numerous, and reflect various arguments posed throughout this study. In the short-term, turning immediately to peacekeeping was a way for the government to appease the military while simultaneously curbing its political authority and removing it from the political sphere. Peacekeeping would offer both institutional purpose and individual incentive to the military, while prompting it to repair its international reputation by seeking the approval and respect of foreign militaries. It would also allow for the reform of government spending, bring in critical funding to subsidize the defense budget and other programs. In the longer-term, Bangladesh would use peacekeeping specifically to modernize

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and professionalize the military, while also exposing it to democratic socialization through close ties with democratic militaries such as those of the United States and United Kingdom.

One of the primary motivations for Bangladesh’s turn to UN peacekeeping that has been identified is its desire to distract the military from domestic matters and thereby prevent it from meddling in political affairs. By making such a numerically large commitment to peacekeeping, and by committing to a wide range of missions around the world, a broad segment of both officers and soldiers would have their attention redirected to external missions. The prospect of serving in UNPKOs would be very attractive to most uniformed personnel, as it would provide opportunities for travel, experiencing other cultures, and improving their professional skills through more advanced training and interacting with better-trained militaries from other countries.

An equally, if not more important motivation for peacekeeping involvement has been the economic benefits. Indeed, existing studies repeatedly identify such incentives as one of the primary drivers of Bangladesh’s UNPKO involvement (Avezov 2014; Murthy 2007; Levin et al. 2016; Lundgren 2018; Zaman and Biswas 2014). As a relatively poor country needing to focus its attention on economic growth and reduce the bloated defense budget, the government would see peacekeeping as an opportunity to both support the weak economy while also appeasing the military in the early years of the transition. The economic incentives therefore play a central role for three actors: the Bangladeshi government, the military as an institution, and individual soldiers.

For the government, peacekeeping revenues have been an important subsidy for defense spending, other military programs, and general economic wellbeing. Zaman and

Biswas (2014, 328) report that, between 2001 and 2010, Bangladesh earned revenues totaling

$1.28 billion from peacekeeping contributions. As a relatively poor and densely-populated country with a limited tax revenue base and economic resources, peacekeeping has played an

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important role in supporting the Bangladeshi economy (331). Krishnasamy (2003, 37) further argues that Bangladesh’s involvement in peacekeeping is at least in part due to a “desperate attempt to build a stable economy,” given that is has a “serious balance of payments deficit due to limited export earnings and poor foreign investment.” Therefore, peacekeeping revenues not only support military personnel directly, but can also provide added revenues for the government broadly (37). As an example, the $1.28 billion earnings in foreign revenue is a major injection of cash into the domestic economy and is equivalent to 10% of all remittance flows into Bangladesh (Levin et al. 2016, 122). Beyond this, engagement with international peace efforts may also improve Bangladesh’s status as a target of foreign aid and investment. While financial mismanagement may have tempered this attractiveness over the years (Krishnasamy 2003, 38), it does not detract from this being a motivation to contribute peacekeepers in the first place.

Strong economic benefits to peacekeeping are also present for the military at the institutional level. This involvement has allowed the vast modernization of the military through the acquisition of new technologies and expanded welfare programs for veterans

(Avezov 2014, 266). For example, Levin et al. (2016, 122) report that Bangladesh signed a $1 billion agreement with Russia to buy new equipment that included helicopters, aircraft, and armored vehicles, paid for with peacekeeping revenues and at the recommendation of the UN in order to better equip Bangladesh against increasingly technical fighters in conflict zones.

Additionally, in 2012 the United States gave Bangladesh $1.375 million for new military equipment and $3.6 million to support its peacekeeper training facility (122). Such benefits have no doubt enabled the government to expand its civilian authority over the armed forces without causing a major backlash in the process.

Thirdly, individual soldiers have reaped tremendous benefits from peacekeeping participation, reducing their proclivity towards rebellion and reinforcing the idea that

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professional behavior and military subordination are aligned with their individual preferences. Peacekeeping is a lucrative opportunity for a Bangladeshi soldier, and given that the vast majority of uniformed personnel have had experience in peacekeeping over the years

(Murthy 2007, 163), these benefits have been distributed widely. Peacekeeping service has provided soldiers with a pathway to the middle class, where just one year of deployment might allow a soldier to amass savings equivalent to a retirement benefit accrued over 20 to

30 years of conventional domestic service (163). A peacekeeper earns around $1,000 per month (this amount has gradually increased over the years), compared with the typical monthly salary of around $180 (Levin et al. 2016, 122). In addition to the added benefits of travel, professional experience, and prestige within their own communities, the incentives for soldiers to embrace peacekeeping are therefore substantial.

The economic benefits of peacekeeping at multiple levels is therefore a major incentive for participation and provides a means to appease domestic pressure for economic reform after a military regime while endowing the military with the means to be sustained, and even better-resourced than before. Unlike in Argentina, where the military was highly unpopular among the domestic public at the time of democratic transition, the Bangladeshi military maintained a degree of esteem as an important political player. However, the mounting pressure on the Ershad regime to step down and allow democracy to be implemented suggests there was sufficient animosity towards the military such that peacekeeping and its various benefits would serve as an important means to placate this public displeasure, both through taking a controlling stake in military activities and by diverting state spending away from the institution.

As with Argentina, however, Bangladesh’s motivation for involvement in peacekeeping has not merely been to remove the military from meddling in domestic politics, appease it with funding, and divert resources to other areas. It has also been part of a larger

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plan to shift the orientation of the military away from being a highly-politicized institution with tremendous domestic leverage to one that is subordinated to civilian authority.

Bangladesh has therefore relied on the same socializing and professionalizing benefits of peacekeeping as Argentina and other emerging democracies. Zaman and Biswas (2016) state that, “Bangladeshi political parties have welcomed the military’s involvement in peacekeeping because they believe participation in such missions will imbibe the Bangladesh

Army with democratic values and lead to healthier civil-military relations at home.” Evidence that the financial incentives are not the sole, or even primary driver of contributions, is found in the fact that, while Bangladesh is one of the largest contributors of peacekeepers in the world, its contribution is still relatively small as a proportion of its standing personnel

(around 4%). Moreover, revenues from peacekeeping have been substantial in absolute terms, but still comprise only a small segment of both the total military budget and the country’s gross national income (Levin et al. 2016, 124).

It should be stated up front that Bangladesh has not exhibited the kind of strategic deployment to particular missions as outlined in this project. Rather, its contributions have been both “widespread and unselective” (Krishnasamy 2003, 32). Rather than challenging the underlying arguments I have made, however, this pattern may in fact explain why the military has failed to fully embrace democracy and civilian authority in Bangladesh. The lack of a clear strategy to professionalize the military away from political interventionist tendencies, both through its selection of missions and its activities to redefine the role of the military domestically, appear to have prevented peacekeeping from having an optimal impact on civil-military relations. Therefore, while its heavy participation in UNPKOs has inevitably had some socializing and professionalizing effects, the military may also have picked up or reinforced some bad habits that have perpetuated its nature as a threat to stable democratic governance.

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Socialization of the armed forces to democratic norms has come in two primary forms, reflecting those argued in Chapter 4: socialization by militaries from strong democracies and exposure to democratic norms within the UN system. The military’s socialization began under the training guidance of the United States and United Kingdom. For example, prior to its participation in peacekeeping operations in Haiti, the Bangladeshi military underwent training by these two countries’ militaries (Krishnasamy 2003, 40). Since then, the military has adopted the tactical planning procedures and educational system of the United States

Army, and has also received substantial investment in its peacekeeper training facilities from the US. These interactions, and the subsequent leverage gained by foreign democracies by supporting Bangladesh’s peacekeeping efforts, both explicitly and implicitly drive the

Bangladeshi military towards a more democratic orientation.

Furthermore, the Bangladeshi military appears to a large extent to have adopted the democratic values advanced by UN peacekeeping. Zaman and Biswas (2014, 338) recount an interview with an army officer, who states that Bangladeshi peacekeepers have internalized the UN’s norms of consent, impartiality, and non-use of force, and “are thus encouraged to uphold these same democratic values back home.” One example of this development is the fact that in 2015, Bangladesh deployed the UN’s first all-female peacekeeping unit, comprised of 160 women and sent to the UN’s Stabilizing Mission in Haiti (Women in the

World 2015).

The Bangladeshi military’s desire to conform to UN norms is enhanced by its visibility in the field. In any given mission, Bangladesh is one of, if not the largest contributor of uniformed personnel. Its sheer numbers imbue it with a responsibility to both practice and champion the UN’s pro-democracy norms, lest its high visibility cause it to be identified as being at odds with its employer. Accounts generally suggest that Bangladeshi troops have done just this, reflecting the very nature of what today’s peacekeepers should be. What

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criticisms have arisen have related mostly to having limited capacity (for example, poor communication and technical skills and a lack of initiative) rather than expressing an attitude of insubordination or engaging in other undemocratic behaviors (Krishnasamy 2003,

42).

However, socialization to democratic norms, as I have argued previously, is likely insufficient to remove the military’s interventionist proclivities. Some might argue that the military was never opposed to democracy in principle, and saw military rule as a means to stabilize the country with the hope of establishing democracy down the road. Indeed, it was the perception of government ineptitude and corruption, combined with the military’s self- image of national guardian, that led to the coups in 1975 and 1982. Therefore, while it is important for the military to support the principles of democracy, including subordination to civilian government, it must simultaneously be professionalized as an entity that is either sufficiently disengaged from politics that it is no longer seen as a viable alternative to civilian government (objective professionalism), or else incorporated into a democratic system with the understanding that it supports civilian authority and contributes only to its strengthening, rather than its removal. In Bangladesh, neither of these appear to have occurred. The military appears to have maintained its belief that it is the rightful conduit of stable government and has not been divested of its political orientation through peacekeeping. Simultaneously, the government has been ineffective at taking steps to reduce the military’s capacity to intervene, choosing instead to further politicize it through both main parties’ coopting of the armed forces into their political agendas. This has left a precarious situation whereby the military has not imposed its rule on the country since democratization in 1991, but has on numerous occasions made its presence felt, and even oversaw an interim technocratic government from 2007 to 2008 before re-establishing an elected government.

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The findings in Chapter 5 suggest that democratizing states with a strong military legacy tend to seek the objective professionalization of the military, orienting it towards external-type missions that reinforce narrow military roles and promote its disengagement from politics. Bangladesh’s unselective deployment to UNPKOs clearly indicates that it has no clear strategy for in-field professionalization in one direction or the other, suggesting that the military may become more professional in terms of its expertise and capabilities, but that this does not have any obvious implications for Bangladeshi civil-military relations.

Certainly, its peacekeepers have participated heavily in some strictly military tasks, having been major contributors to enforcement missions in Cote d’Ivoire, Liberia, Sierra Leone, and the DRC, among others. With this, a heavy price has been paid. At the end of 2018,

Bangladesh had suffered 146 peacekeeper fatalities in its history of involvement, almost 4% of total peacekeeping deaths (United Nations 2019). Only India, Nigeria, and Pakistan have suffered more. Yet, in addition to its strictly military roles, Bangladesh has also engaged in many activities that have reinforced a blurred military-civilian role for soldiers. One account with a Bangladeshi Director of Military Operations in peacekeeping activities recounted that the military had adopted a community-oriented approach to peacekeeping, prioritizing interaction with local in an attempt to cultivate strong relations between peacekeepers and communities (Krishnasamy 2003, 41). This is a clear reflection of the military’s outlook that it is the ally of the people and seeks to work alongside them while building public support for itself.

Compounding the negative impact of the military’s professionalization in the field has been the government’s strategy for incorporating the military into a stable governing system, subordinating it to civilian authorities and restricting its role to defense and foreign policy advising. The failure to adequately do this has left Bangladesh with a fragile democratic

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system, illustrated by the interference of the military on a number of occasions that stopped short of outright takeover.

6.3.4 The State of Civil-Military Relations

The optimism aroused by the absence of a military coup since 1982 is tempered when more nuanced dynamics of Bangladeshi politics are taken into account. Rather than fading into the political background, there is a popular belief that the military has, in fact, adopted a stronger praetorian tendency in recent years (Levin et al. 2016, 123). Although the civilian government was able to exert formal control over the military after democratization in 1991, the informal influence of the military persisted, and the inability to fully institute civilian authority ultimately cost Bangladesh a consolidation of democracy (Wolf 2013, 24). The reason for this ultimately comes down to two factors: the failure of the government to remove the armed forces from positions of decision-making power, and the use of the military as a political pawn by the two competing political parties.

Ironically, during the democratic transition in 1990-1991, the military was primed to be brought under civilian control in ways it had never been before. Prior attempts to do so, such as with the first civilian administration post-independence, were seen as too strict and threatening to the military’s interests. For example, the creation of a counterbalancing paramilitary force and reducing the defense budget in the early 1970s were met with animosity to civilian authority that persisted long after their implementation. This was compounded by the ineffectiveness and perceived corruption of that government, which gave the military little confidence in being brought under civilian control. The culmination of this resistance was the 1975 coup (15). However, similar to the case of Argentina, the military had lost a great deal of legitimacy and support from the people by 1990. Coupled with the

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declining economy, the Bangladeshi people demanded a change from military control, and demands for democracy were prevalent (23). This mandate would give the new democratic government the leverage it needed to implement constitutional controls over the military and institutionalize civilian authority without a major backlash. Moreover, the new role in peacekeeping was a good compromise for the military: exchanging power amid unpopularity for a lucrative and prestigious international role that would strengthen its corporate identity and professional capability.

However, while peacekeeping was a good strategy for shifting civil-military relations, the government’s domestic choices regarding the would hamper the possibility of positive change and the government ultimately missed the opportunity to shift civil-military relations in favor of sustainable democracy.

The first flaw of the new government was allowing the military’s prominent role in political decision-making to persist. Limited effort and ability of the civilian government in the areas of defense and foreign policy opened up the door for the military to dominate this process. Moreover, recruitment of police and paramilitary personnel was organized to draw from the armed forces, which also maintained a high degree of control over these units rather than being rightfully managed by the Ministry of Home Affairs (Wolf 2013, 19-20). The military has also curbed the civilian government’s power to exercise authority on matters of internal security, such as during the anti-crime and corruption Operation Clean-Heart, which was dominated by the military while civilian oversight was blocked (20). Beyond this, military personnel were not only kept in high-ranking political offices, but were added in greater number as the political party in power at the time sought to court the favor of the military over the opposing party.

The second, and more significant, factor affecting the military’s continued politicization was its incorporation into ongoing partisan dynamics between the two leading

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political parties, which led to only superficial institutionalization of civilian authority in favor of more personalized control. In the years following the 1991 election, the AL and BNP parties opted for antagonism and polarization over compromise, and in seeking to strengthen their position sought to rally the support of groups of officers, ultimately engaging them in political matters in which they had no business being involved (Zaman and Biswas 2014, 334). This was done by rekindling existing cleavages within the military, playing one side against the other (Wolf 2013, 38). Islam (2010, 83) reports that:

“When in power, [the two parties] made generous allocation of resources and privileges to the army, including sanctioning a disproportionate number of high-level positions…in relation to the size of the army. Thus, they competed to win the loyalty, if not explicit support, of the army in their search for political power.”

What authority existed over the military was thus dependent on the party or leaders in power and was tempered by the desire to appease the military rather than subdue it. Moreover, the deliberate fomenting of intra-military factions worked against any professionalizing effect that was being achieved through peacekeeping activity.

The behavior of the government thus reflects the pitfalls of subjective control of the military as discussed by Huntington (1957). Rather than civilianizing the soldiers and coopting them into a democratic order that promotes a supportive and subordinate military, as proponents of subjective control and concordance theory would argue, the Bangladeshi government’s actions highlighted Huntington’s warnings against subjective control: the risk that incorporating the military rather than giving it autonomy and separation from domestic politics would lead to civilian groups (including political parties) seeking to control the military for their own purposes. This is exactly what appears to have happened in

Bangladesh. Where there was an opportunity to bring the military under civilian control after democratization in the way that Argentina did, misguided and self-serving incentives of the major political parties allowed its central role in politics to persist and even grow stronger.

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Some are not as critical of the situation in Bangladesh. For example, Zaman and

Biswas (2014) tout this as a positive case of Schiff’s concordance theory, marked by the fact that the military has not overtaken government since 1982. Murthy (2007, 160) argues that the benefits of peacekeeping for Bangladesh’s soldiers has left it “in no mood to return to politics.” However, it would be an oversimplification of the state of civil-military relations to assume that the lack of a direct coup indicates a stabilization of democracy and a withdrawal of the military from politics. Evidence of this is found in the two attempted coups in 1996 and

2011, and the military-imposed civilian interim government from 2007 to 2008. Granted, the two coups were suppressed, and were staged by small groups of soldiers without the support of the armed forces at large. This is something of an indication that the government wields sufficient authority and control over the military to prevent a major coup occurring and being successful. However, they also both indicate that a belief in the military’s right to intervene in governance remains, and both occurred as a response to attempts by the government to exert control over the military (Levin et al. 2016, 123).

6.3.5 2007 and Beyond

An intervention that established a two-year unelected interim civilian government in

2007, but that was instigated by the military, is a more concerning sign for Bangladeshi democracy. Although it has been hailed as something of a success that the military did not perform an outright takeover of government, and that the intervention was with the intention of creating stability and restoring effective democracy, there is little doubt that this episode of interference “was to vanquish undue civilian interference into internal military affairs”

(Wolf 2013, 25) and has done more to damage democracy than strengthen it.

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When the sitting government led by the AL party handed over authority to a caretaker government in 2006, is was to fulfill the constitutionally-mandated rule of having an impartial governing body oversee the planning and executing of elections within ninety days.

However, opposition parties accused the AL of choosing party sympathizers as the chief advisor of the caretaker government and chief of the election committee, claiming that the resulting election would be highly unfair. The AL refused to compromise and violent protests ensued. When the AL decided to hold the elections none the less, it deployed the military to arrest anyone seeking to obstruct the election being carried out (Islam 2010, 77). Major international powers and aid donors to Bangladesh opposed this move, and when the AL refused to budge, the countries turned their focus on the military, presenting it with an ultimatum: if it helped the AL run an unfair election, it would risk losing access to UN peacekeeping operations. Not wanting to risk its lucrative enterprise, the military forced the sitting caretake government to resign and installed a technocratic government instead. This placated the international community, particularly because the military resisted taking outright control of the country. Common opinion is that the military chose this option for the same reason it did not support the initial election: it thought the international community would be unreceptive to a military takeover and it likewise might lose its peacekeeping privileges (Zaman and Biswas 2014, 325). However, while this prevented a full-on coup, there was little doubt that the military was pulling the strings behind the scenes. Indeed, Islam

(2010, 81) suggests that the military’s larger plan was to fundamentally alter the political landscape by pushing reform of the two major parties’ leadership. During this period, the interim government approved a number of changes that would give greater control to the military, including near total authority over internal security, emergency powers that would override civil and political freedoms, and control over the security forces and intelligence agencies (Wolf 213, 27). The interim period would last for two years until, facing both

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domestic and international pressure for the military to retreat once more, elections to restore democracy were held in 2008. UN peacekeeping therefore played a role both in the fact that the military oversaw the 2007 intervention and that it did not assume total control under a third military regime.

In assessing whether civil-military relations in Bangladesh have been sufficiently reshaped to support democracy, there are both positive and negative signs. In the years after democratization in 1991, peacekeeping played a critical role in removing and distracting the military, appeasing it with varied incentives, and exposing it to important socializing and professionalizing forces in the field. However, a lack of incentive to fully subordinate the military in the domestic realm rendered these benefits insufficient to prevent future military incursions into the political sphere. Ultimately, the desire to protect its right to participate in peacekeeping helped to temper the military’s role in the 2007 intervention, but does not appear to have shifted its underlying desire to control various domestic areas, and step in to govern when democratic leadership is weak. In the years since the interim, democracy does not appear to be any stronger than before 2007. Islam (2010, 81) asserts that:

“Bangladesh is now more or less back where it was before the beginning of the crisis, excepting that free and fair elections were held on the basis of a reliable voters’ list. The political clock has been reset where as it was in 2006. The two years of interregnum produced no net gain insofar as a democratic political evolution was concerned. …This experience confirms the viewpoint that army interventions rarely succeed in redesigning the political landscape and in establishing the requisite rules of democratic governance.”

This suggests that the sooner the Armed Forces realize they do not offer a net benefit to democracy by intervening in politics, the sooner democracy might be consolidated. A coup attempt in 2011, though suppressed by the military without major issue, suggests that this mentality has not been entirely eradicated from among the troops.

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6.4 Ghana: From Regular Coups to Model Peacekeepers

Little attention has been devoted to understanding Ghana’s role as a peacekeeping contributor, which is surprising given its disproportionately heavy involvement in the last two decades. As discussed in Chapter 1, Ghana has consistently been a top-ten contributor of personnel to peacekeeping missions since it democratized in 2000 and gives by far the largest proportion of its military personnel to UNPKOs of all countries (an average of 23 percent between 2000 and 2011). Although it sends non-military personnel such as civilian police, its contribution is predominantly of a military nature. In December 2016, 86% of its almost

3,000-strong deployment were military personnel (UNDPKO). Peacekeeping involvement has served as an important source of revenue for a financially hard-up military over the years, as well as a source of professionalization for the military institution, both of which have played a crucial role in reversing a military culture of mutiny and coup activity.

Ghana is also an interesting case in that it has experienced a litany of military coups over its several decades of independence. Perhaps more intriguing is the fact that these coups have shown great variation: around one third have been successful; coups have occurred against multi-party governments, one-party states, and existing military regimes; and the coups have been staged by actors at all ranks of the armed forces: top, middle, and bottom of the hierarchy (Singh 2014, 11). Such a complex landscape of civil-military relations therefore should make Ghana a case less likely to support the theories I have presented in this work.

Despite this, a strong commitment to UN peacekeeping service has largely solidified civilian authority over the armed forces, reduced long-standing grievances within the military, and ultimately made coups and mutinies a thing of the past in Ghana.

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6.4.1 A Turbulent Political History

Since independence in 1960, Ghana has fluctuated between various regime types and has subsequently experienced short bursts of democracy, only to be replaced by authoritarian regimes thereafter. Figure 6.5 and Table 6.1 illustrate this fluctuation. Notably, Ghana has endured three separate periods of military rule and an extensive period of personal rule under former military leader Jerry Rawlings, under whose leadership the military retained significant political power. Moreover, Ghana experienced fifteen coups between 1960 and

1984 according to Powell and Thyne (2011), five of which were successful and led to power changing hands (1966, 1972, 1978, 1979, and 1981). Democracy would last for only a couple of years at a time, and Ghana only reached a polity score of +6 on one occasion (1979-1980) before fully democratizing in 2000.

While prior regimes played an important role in shaping Ghana’s future, the reforms of the democratic government in 2000 – of which peacekeeping involvement was central – were most significantly driven by the prior rule of Jerry Rawlings, a former Flight Lieutenant of the Ghanaian Air Force, who instigated two coups and led the country under both military and personal rule for almost twenty years. The first coup occurred in June 1979 on the back of a failed attempt only one month prior, similarly instigated by Rawlings. In both instances, the motivation was to overthrow the sitting military regime led by the Supreme Military

Council (SMC). The SMC had inherited a fragmented military and severely damaged economy. Inflation had climbed to over 100 percent, economic growth was negative, and access to consumer goods was increasingly constrained (Singh 2014, 155). When the government devalued the currency in 1978, consumer prices rose sharply and further stoked the public discontent. Moreover, the perception in society was that the economic troubles were a result of government corruption, further fueling opposition to the government (155).

Few felt the effects of these problems like the military, whose living and working conditions

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had deteriorated badly. However, with elections scheduled for June, there was a general apathy for a coup, instead waiting with expectation for the transition to a new government

(156).

Figure 6.5: Polity scores and regime transitions in Ghana, 1960-2016.

Note: Dashed lines represent regime changes.

Rawlings was therefore only able to muster the support of a small number of likeminded lower-ranking soldiers, based largely on his attractive personality rather than any overarching ideological agenda. The subsequent coup attempt was therefore easy for the

Armed Forces to suppress. However, Rawlings’ public trial that followed ironically drew increased support for his cause, awakening many soldiers to their conditions and tying them together in resistance to the sitting regime. As a result, when Rawlings staged another coup

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only three weeks after the first, he had broader support from both soldiers and civilians, and was able to successfully depose the SMC regime (162-63).

Table 6.1: Ghana’s political regimes, 1960-2016.

Period Regime Type Party/Leader 1960-66 Party-personal Convention People’s Party (Kwame Nkrumah)

1966-69 Military National Liberation Council

1969-72 Democracy Progress Party

1972-79 Military National Redemption Council Supreme Military Council Armed Forces Revolutionary Council

1979-81 Democracy People’s National Party

1981-93 Military Provisional National Defense Council

1993-2000 Personal National Democratic Congress (Jerry Rawlings)

2000-16 Democracy New Patriotic Party National Democratic Congress Source: Geddes et al. (2014).

Despite transferring power to a democratically elected government in a matter of months, Rawlings again intervened in 1981, claiming that the government under Hilla

Limann had failed to sufficiently address Ghana’s problems (Hutchful 1997, 251). In particular, despite some attempts to reform the military, the rebellion claimed it had not done enough to address the rampant corruption, internal fractionalization, and chaotic command structure within the Armed Forces (266). Rawlings and the Provisional National

Defence Council set out to implement widespread reform, both of the military and various social structures, which earned the military regime widespread public support. Some of the key reforms of the Armed Forces included the election of senior officers by their units, reforming the command structure, and extending more rights to lower-ranking soldiers while

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removing the class system that existed within the ranks (253). However, the reforms were largely ineffective, even resulting in rebellions in 1982 and 1983 by soldiers disillusioned with the progress being made (254). A crackdown on rebellious entities and further reform of the military began to bring success, as the military began to show signs of stability and discipline. However, in doing so, the military became less accountable and more entrenched in political affairs, a departure from Rawlings’ proposed strategy to strengthen democracy in the country (259). The late 1980s therefore brought increasing public calls for democratization. In addition, economic growth was slowing and the wave of democratization occurring around the world created added pressure to embrace democratic governance (260).

Under mounting pressure for democracy, Rawlings announced in 1991 that Ghana would once again be a constitutional democracy, with elections planned for the following year.

However, most opposition parties boycotted the election and Rawlings was elected as the

President, while his National Democratic Congress (NDC) party ruled as essentially a one- party system (Gyima-Boadi 2001, 104).

6.4.2 Superficial and Genuine Democracy

Rawlings would rule for the next eight years and many pro-democracy reforms were implemented, to the point that some commentators refer to this period as Ghana’s democratization. A new constitution ushered in sweeping changes, including further reforms and constraints of the military, institutionalizing much of what had previously been informal and personalistic (Hutchful 1997, 264). However, rather than looking to cripple the Armed

Forces, these reforms aimed at cleaning up its mess and taking it on a path of professionalization. As a result, the military would continue to be politically strong, but would not contain the disorder and fragmentation that had led to repeated coups in the past.

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Thus, the military retained a central role in Ghanaian politics for the duration of Rawlings’ rule. Other indications that Ghana was far from democratic under the NDC include the constraints established under the new system on opposition parties, the media, and civil society generally (Gyima-Boadi 2001, 104). The true colors of the NDC regarding democracy were shown throughout the election campaign period, where the party systematically attempted to undermine the election process through intimidation and fearmongering, as well as using its incumbency advantage to conflate acts of patronage towards the public with election campaigning (106). In one instance, Rawlings even conveyed to military personnel that the NPP intended to end Ghana’s involvement in UN peacekeeping, a tremendous source of income, experience, and pride for soldiers (107). Retaining the support of the Armed Forces would be key to the NDC’s campaign, where increased intrusions of the military into civil matters would be a marker of the NDC campaign. As an example, armed soldiers in uniform were deployed as election security guards on polling day, which instilled fear in the public

(109). In short, the end of the Rawlings era only emphasized that true democracy had never been a goal of that regime.

In 2000, Rawlings decided not to push for continued power and instead agreed to step down after the end of his constitutionally-limited second term. This was not a foregone conclusion, having usurped the system of government twice through coups and setting up a system that strongly favored his party’s control. His decision was likely helped by increased societal pressure for democratic reform. However, there was major reservations about how democratic the 2000 elections would ultimately be. Even if the opposition NPP were to win, would Rawlings accept the outcome, and for how long before re-inserting himself? There were several key differences in this election, however. There was a concerted effort by the Electoral

Commission to provide a free and fair election (104); various community groups came together to serve as independent election monitors (110); and an unprecedented role of the

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media led to vast improvements in voter education (110). There was also greater support from abroad, both in resources for the election as well as overt pressure for Rawlings to comply with his term limit (111). The careful narrative provided by the international community – generally recognizing Rawlings as having made a positive impact for democracy

– likely further drove his willingness to accept his party’s defeat in the election and walk away (112).

6.4.3 Ghana’s Involvement in Peacekeeping

While post-democratization Ghana had strong incentives to engage in peacekeeping, the country had been sending military contingents for decades before this, although with different motivations and in smaller numbers. In fact, it supported its first mission in the same year its post-independence government was elected, sending a small deployment to the mission in the Democratic Republic of the Congo. In the subsequent years, Ghana participated in almost every peacekeeping mission that took place (Aning and Aubyn 2013,

271). Its contribution size spiked between 1993 and 1995, coinciding with the coming to power of Rawlings and the turn away from authoritarianism and towards democratic reform and international engagement. While Rawlings may have sought out peacekeeping as a means to support impoverished soldiers and professionalize the military as a stronger and better- trained fighting force, there is little indication that this was driven by a desire for democratic civil-military relations. As discussed above, Rawlings sought to unify and strengthen the military, giving it increased domestic security and political roles. Peacekeeping may therefore have served as a way to gain support from the military for his own political cause, as well as to reap various benefits for his compatriots. However, it was unlikely a tool for supporting the subordination of the military to civilian authority.

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Another explanation for Ghana’s involvement in peacekeeping before proper democratization in 2000 was its foreign policy agenda. During these years, Ghana sought to play a role in regional peace and security, where conflict spillover and refugee crises threatened its national security. Moreover, it represented Ghana’s commitment to the UN’s framework for peace more generally, even enshrining adherence to peaceful international relations and the principles of the UN Charter in the new constitution (Section 40). However, peacekeeping as a central tenet of the National Democratic Council government was short- lived: its average monthly contribution of around 1,500 troops from 1993 to 1995 dropped to around 600 for the second half of the decade. Only when Rawlings was replaced by the NPP government in 2000-2001 did peacekeeping become a central tenet of Ghana’s defense and foreign policy.

Of various reasons for contributing peacekeepers in the post-democracy years, civil- military relations was dominant. Two specific factors stand out as driving this involvement: providing economic benefits for individual soldiers and increasing the professionalism of the

Armed Forces through peacekeeping experience and the acquisition of advanced equipment and weaponry paid for with UN reimbursement funds. Peacekeeping participation, and in such great proportion as Ghana pursued, would thus play a central role in pivoting the military away from its coup tendencies and fostering a stable democratic system where the military would accept a subordinate role. As Aning and Aubyn (2013, 288) suggest: “It can be argued that Ghana’s involvement in peacekeeping has contributed to the country’s stability and the consolidation of democracy.”

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6.4.4 Individual Benefits: Economic Wellbeing and Government Guarantees

The fact that Ghana was an economic shambles in the 1970s and 1980s made material grievances a primary cause of military interference in domestic politics over the years (Aning and Aubyn 2013, 288). The conditions of Armed Forces personnel were particularly dire, with the military budget having been successively cut year after year: it dropped from around 9 percent of total government expenditure in the mid-1970s to less than 4 percent by the end of the 1980s (Hutchful 1997, 270). Yet while governments in the 1990s made various attempts to reform the economic conditions of soldiers, they had little impact (Aning and Aubyn 2013,

288-89). It is not surprising that the inconsistent commitment to UN peacekeeping during this decade failed to have a substantial effect on this problem. A more concerted turn to peacekeeping in the years after full democratization in 2000 undoubtedly turned this situation around. In the following decade, Ghana would have somewhere between 17 and 23 percent of its standing military personnel deployed to UNPKOs at any given time. Taking into account the rotation of soldiers, usually after six or twelve months, this suggests that most, if not all military personnel in Ghana would receive some peacekeeping experience during that time.

The economic benefits for individual soldiers in Ghana were not trivial, as is the case for many other contributing countries. On average, a soldier was given 62.5 percent of the

UN remuneration rate (Aning 2007, 148). Rather than igniting frustration and not receiving the full amount (as soldiers in Bangladesh did), this amount would provide soldiers with a respectable income by national standards and would make deployment to UNPKOs all the more desirable to a soldier. This income would allow many such individuals to buy land, construct houses, send their children to good schools, and generally improve their living standards (140). Yet income alone is unlikely a sufficient explanation for the pacification of these troops. Dwyer (2015) argues that a number of coups and mutinies plagued West African

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countries in the 1990s and 2000s, despite their involvement in peacekeeping and their soldiers earning comparable salaries. Why, then, is Ghana not found on this list of countries?25 Like the others, Ghana has served in some of the most dangerous conditions and has been exposed to disease such as HIV/AIDS, where around two percent of peacekeepers were returning infected in the early 2000s (Aning 2007, 142-43). One explanation is in the fact that the Ghanaian government has adopted strategies to reduce pay-related grievances among peacekeepers in ways that other countries have not. First, peacekeepers are paid their salaries up front by the government, which then directly receives the UN reimbursements as they come in (Aning 2007, 137). Dwyer identifies delayed or missing payments as a primary cause of peacekeeper frustration, which ultimately contributed to mutinies in Gambia in 1991 and 1992 (215). A second way the Ghanaian government has mitigated pay-related grievances is through clear communication about peacekeeper pay and the allocation of remaining UN reimbursement money. In Sierra Leone and Nigeria, peacekeepers expressed their frustration at receiving only a portion of the allocated salary, but having no knowledge of what the remainder is used for. This arouses suspicion and belief in government corruption, further increasing the likelihood of rebellion (Dwyer 2015, 218-19). This was similarly the case in Ghana before reform was introduced in 2000. A scandal emerged in 1999 when $16 million was diverted from the peacekeeping account to pay for a presidential jet

(GhanaWeb 2003). The resulting public outcry strengthened the platform of the opposition

New Patriotic Party during the run up to the 2000 elections, who subsequently won the election. Among its promises of reform, the NPP stated that it would not use the presidential jet, and kept its promise after coming to power (Aning 2007, 148-49). As another reform, peacekeepers are fully notified of the financial arrangement regarding their service prior to

25 The cases include Benin, Burkina Faso, Cote d’Ivoire, Chad, Gambia, Guinea, Guinea Bissau, and Nigeria (Dwyer 2015, 207).

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deployment – receiving $20 per day out of $32 paid by the UN – and are likewise aware that the remaining money is placed in the Armed Forces’ Special Reserve Account, where it serves primarily as a buffer for future peacekeeper salaries and also as a fund for new equipment for the military (Aning 2007, 148). These government strategies of tending to soldiers’ economic needs and communicating with them clearly appear to have been able to mitigate pay-related frustration among peacekeepers.

Another aspect of Ghana’s peacekeeping contributions reflects a finding of Chapter 3: that countries seeking financial revenues for the defense budget as a precursor to political stability will more likely engage in UN peacekeeping missions than other types. Aubyn and

Aning (2015) cite the lack of direct payment to peacekeepers for service as a primary reason why Ghana has favored UN over non-UN missions. Data from Gaibulloev et al. (2015) show that Ghana only contributed in large numbers to two non-UN missions: the ECOWAS and

ECOMOG missions in Liberia (1991-1997) and the ECOMOG mission in Sierra Leone (1998-

1999). Both instances were prior to the 2000 democratization. Since 2000, Ghana has contributed a total of only 53 peacekeepers to five different non-UN missions. It’s involvement in the ECOWAS and ECOMOG missions was driven primarily by concerns of conflict spillover. Moreover, the UN had not yet established missions to address these conflicts, but once it had, Ghana switched its involvement over to those (UNMIL in Liberia and UNAMSIL in Sierra Leone).

Financial incentives for participation in peacekeeping have therefore played a central role in reversing grievances within the military ranks and simultaneously giving soldiers an incentive to avoid future unrest. Since a number of past coups were staged by rebellious factions among lower-ranking soldiers, this is not an insignificant achievement and likely a crucial component of stable civil-military relations in Ghana.

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6.4.5 Institutional Benefits: Resources and Professionalization

Peacekeeping has also generated numerous benefits at the institutional level, both for the military and the government more generally. As previously described, the government retains a significant portion of the salary reimbursement received from the UN (around 37.5 percent). Given the sheer number of peacekeepers that Ghana contributes, as well as its relatively low cost of doing so, this is a non-trivial revenue stream. In 2010 for example,

Ghana received over $74 million in peacekeeping remuneration, but spent only $42 million in the process, leaving a $32 million profit (Aning and Aubyn 2013, 276). Beyond direct peacekeeping reimbursements, Ghana has also received direct financial support for its defense and security from outside actors. For example, in 2003 the United States gave $4 million to support Ghana’s peace initiatives in West Africa, and an additional $3.4 million in military training equipment (Aning 2007, 137-38).

The funds earned from these sources has enabled Ghana to invest in greater professionalization of the Armed Forces. Against the tide of its economic struggles, peacekeeping revenues have allowed Ghana to purchase advanced weaponry and equipment, primarily to increase its peacekeeping capacity and knowing that much of the cost is further defrayed by the UN. The “Wet Least System” used in UN peacekeeping sees that countries are reimbursed for equipment used in peacekeeping based on a monthly rate, and that such equipment subsequently reverts to the ownership of the country’s military once the mission is finished (Aning 2007, 135). In addition to equipment, profits from peacekeeping have enabled the Ghanaian Armed Forces (GAF) to pay for land that it acquired decades ago and from which outstanding payments have resulted in significant debts for the government. In

2004, this outstanding debt stood at $75 billion Cedis (about $14 billion) (Aning 2007, 137).

Beyond financial revenues, the GAF has also been able to achieve a higher level of military professionalization through pre-deployment and in-the-field training and

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interaction with militaries from strong democracies. It has participated in numerous capacity-building and training programs hosted by strong democracies, including the African

Crisis Response Initiative (ACRI) sponsored by the United States, the Reinforcement of

African Peacekeeping Capabilities Program (RECAMP) provided by France, and Canada’s

Military Training Assistance Program (MTAP) (Aning and Aubyn 2013, 275-76). Table 6.2 shows the eight missions to which Ghana has made significant contributions (more than 100 troops on average in a given month), along with the democratic composition of the remaining peacekeepers. There is significant variation in the presence of peacekeepers from strongly democratic countries, although in half of the cases, the network measure is higher than the average for all missions (0.32). This indicates that Ghana has received considerable exposure to militaries from strong democracies during some of its deployments. However, it is not evident that exposure to democratic militaries has been a primary driving force for Ghana, given its decision to deploy in large numbers to missions such as UNAMSIL and UNOCI, where there was only a miniscule presence of strong democracies. These deployments were more likely driven by regional security concerns.

It is also evident that, although Ghana has supported some multidimensional missions (UNTAC and MINURCAT), the vast majority of its large contributions have been sent to objective professionalization-type missions (six out of the eight above missions).

Ghana has therefore pursued a role in peacekeeping that reinforces a narrow defense role for the military, a reflection of rising public preference for the military to be removed from conventionally non-military tasks (Hutchful 1997, 263).

These patterns reflect a concerted effort by the Ghanaian government to deploy strategically to UNPKOs. Although it has supported most missions in recent decades with some personnel, it has displayed great variation in this support and ultimately focused its attention on eight particular missions. The process of deployment strategy involves a large

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Table 6.2 Major mission contributions of Ghana and democratic presence in the mission, 1992- 2011.

Max. strong Strongly democratic Max. Ghanaian democratic Mission Mission location large contributors deployment network (>50 troops) score26 MINURCAT Central African 621 0.48 Ireland, Poland, Republic Norway, Finland, Mongolia MONUC Democratic Republic of 486 0.38 Uruguay the Congo UNAMIR Rwanda 691 0.53 Canada, United Kingdom, Belgium, Australia

UNAMSIL Sierra Leone 927 0.02 -

UNIFIL Lebanon 877 0.58 Ireland, Netherlands, Belgium, Spain, Portugal, Germany, Poland, Austria, Italy, Greece, Finland, Sweden, Norway, Denmark

UNMIL Liberia 870 0.07 Ireland, Sweden, Mongolia UNOCI Cote d’Ivoire 548 0.002 - UNTAC Cambodia 907 0.23 Canada, Uruguay, United Kingdom, Netherlands, Japan, Australia, New Zealand

number of military and civilian staff, but is ultimately guided by the President, who serves as the Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces (Aning and Aubyn 2013, 277-78). Part of the deployment process involves conducting a thorough threat assessment of each mission, identifying if the mission’s mandate is in line with Ghana’s national interests, if the

26 This is the score used in Chapter 4: a scale from 0 to 1 reflecting the proportion of remaining peacekeepers that come from democracies with a Polity score of 10 for five or more consecutive years.

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operational structure of the mission is sufficient to protect its personnel, and if deploying will result in any threats to its own domestic security through having absent military and police personnel (278). The costs and benefits of serving in particular missions are therefore of central concern to the Ghanaian government. This not only supports the argument that governments seek out specific missions for the perceived benefits they will present, but also that financial gain from serving in UNPKOs is not without limit: in some instances, there is simply no price high enough to secure the country’s support. Moreover, knowledge that the government is primarily concerned with the wellbeing of its soldiers, not only through fair and transparent payment but also ensuring their security in the field, increases soldier morale and reduces their likelihood of holding grievances against the government.

An additional reflection of the desire to professionalize the military more narrowly and remove it from domestic politics and internal security functions is its relatively large contribution of police personnel to peacekeeping missions. Although it pales in comparison to the military contribution, it reflects an important step in empowering the police to take greater charge of internal security matters and remove the military from such areas. Between

2000 and 2011, Ghana has deployed on average 275 police at any given time. This is only around one tenth the size of its military contribution, and comprises a much smaller proportion of total personnel than with the military (it deploys around 1-2% of its total police personnel, compared with one fifth of its military) (Aning and Aubyn 2013, 288). However, its consistent commitment of police to peacekeeping missions has endowed this group with important training and experience in areas such as human rights, the rule of law, crowd control, and crime scene management (276). Given that responsibility for most internal security tasks were moved to the military under Rawlings, this is an important indication that the military is being re-professionalized as an external-facing institution, while being replaced in its former internal roles.

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6.4.6 Ghana’s Peacekeepers Today and Tomorrow

Peacekeeping has served as a critical factor in Ghana’s consolidation of democracy by diverting and placating the military, while simultaneously increasing its professionalization as a defensive force and drawing it out of its prior entrenched role in politics and internal security. The path has not been entirely smooth. Ghana has not been immune to misappropriation of its peacekeeping revenues, or corruption in the process of selecting those to serve. For example, in the late 1980s the Commanding Officer of a particular battalion and his senior staff took the money due to be paid to soldiers deployed to a UNPKO and instead invested it privately, paying the soldiers at the end of their deployment and pocketing the accrued interest for themselves (Aning 2007, 147). In this case, all those involved were immediately dismissed. However, this is indicative of the corrupt practices that were prevalent in years past. Such occurrences are thought to be few and far between nowadays, where individuals would hardly dare risk their lucrative peacekeeping assignment. Today,

Ghana’s peacekeepers have a strong reputation among other countries, being recognized as

“some of the finest in the world” (Aning and Aubyn 2013, 272). Their strategy of forging strong ties with local communities in the field and respecting local customs has earned them many plaudits, and the resulting respect has contributed to their heightened safety while deployed

(289). The government must maintain its course towards strong democracy as it continues to deal with various domestic problems. Despite consolidating its democratic institutions in the years since the 2000 transition, a number of obstacles exist to it being considered among the strongest democracies in the world. Lynch and Crawford (2011, 276) point out that some persistent problems include excess power for the president, corruption among both politicians and bureaucrats, persistent gender inequality, and rising economic disparities. However, among African countries Ghana has been considered a relative success story. The institutionalization of a two-party political system has allowed for the fostering of competing

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democratic ideologies (social democratic and liberal democratic), which has promoted ties that cut across prior social demarcations (287). Civil and political rights have become entrenched and Ghana has a thriving free press (291). And, despite economic inequality being a persistent problem, overall economic wellbeing has improved: the proportion of people living in poverty stood at 28.5 percent in 2005-06 compared with 51.7% in 1991-92. Ghana therefore stands out as a good model of democratization on a continent of great political uncertainty today. Its participation in peacekeeping will likely continue to play a central role in its foreign policy even once civil-military relations appear stable, both for the apparent benefits it has brought to soldiers and the military institution alike, as well as the importance of having a democratic security presence in such an unstable region.

6.5 Conclusion

These three cases illustrate the vast complexity of civil-military relations in the context of democratization, as well as the role that peacekeeping can play in helping or hindering that process. In all three instances, financial benefits were a major incentive for making large contributions as the governments sought to reduce dissention among rank-and- file military personnel. In the case of Argentina, and to a lesser extent Ghana, there are also patterns of strategic deployment to missions that offer greater socializing and professionalizing dividends than others. The cases illustrate how robust military legacies do not doom democracy to failure where the government actively seeks to address the fears and needs of the military, and subsequently incorporates it into a political system that elevates civilian authority without inflicting punishment or excessive constraint on the military. Yet, peacekeeping participation’s role on democratic stability is not deterministic. The tenuous democratic institutions of Bangladesh illustrate clearly that important and deliberate action

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must be taken to find an appropriate role for the military in a democratic polity, and that the top priority must be to divest it of any major political role.

While these cases do not express the full range of effects on the military from peacekeeping participation (many contributing countries have experienced backslides, while others not involved in peacekeeping have successfully consolidated democracy), it is clearly evident that deploying one’s troops to peacekeeping operations can result in numerous benefits and can strongly increase the likelihood that democracy will survive when various other approaches have failed.

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CHAPTER 7

CONCLUDING REMARKS

7.1 In Summary

This project was initially motivated by two intriguing patterns. The first is that peacekeeping personnel provision has been heavily undertaken by countries with weak democratic institutions since the end of the Cold War, and that there is little consensus in the literature as to why this has occurred. The second is that little is understood of the effect of peacekeeping missions on those who serve in them, and more broadly on the countries from which they are sent. While I had theoretical presuppositions that such contributions were driven by the desire to effect positive change on civil-military relations in favor of democratic consolidation, the various contradictory findings of the diversionary peacekeeping hypothesis suggested this relationship was more complex than appeared on the surface. In other words, if peacekeeping helps some new democracies and not others, how can variation in the actual peacekeeping experience explain this? My goal was therefore to better understand the various motivations behind states’ participation in UNPKOs: why are new democracies more likely to make large contributions and under what conditions might we see variation in this behavior? While considering how this activity ultimately affects the domestic political structure is important, considering first the agency and strategic behavior of the governments in this practice is a logical prerequisite. Understanding why countries get

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involved in peacekeeping can allow the UN and its member states to fine-tune the incentivization structure of UNPKO involvement and leverage it for the benefit of states seeking to strengthen their own domestic institutions. It can also serve as a model for other governments undergoing democratic transition that might use peacekeeping participation as a means to address civil-military relations.

7.2 Findings and Contribution

Prior to addressing the specific mechanisms that drive contributions from new democracies, I took a step back in order to place the argument within the broader peacekeeping contribution literature. While much attention has been paid to when and why countries will send troops to UNPKOs, there is little consensus on the matter and even less focus on domestic political motivations in the sending state. The several studies that have considered regime characteristics have reached contrary conclusions and have overlooked nuances of regime type beyond merely a democracy-autocracy dichotomy. Chapter 2 therefore addresses the broader arguments within the UNPKO contributions literature and provides evidence that countries that recently democratized make larger peacekeeper contributions than other types of regime. Controlling for other factors such as GDP challenges the alternative argument that increased developing world contributions are simply a function of desire for financial revenue. The results also show that the observed relationship diminishes as time since democratization passes and these countries fall into contribution patterns similar to other countries, suggesting that there is a short-lived sense of importance in new democracies to engage in peacekeeping until either democracy has been consolidated or it has broken down altogether.

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In Chapters 3, 4, and 5, I considered three related motivations that new democracies have to send troops to UNPKOs. In Chapter 3, I found evidence that new democracies seek to address short-term threats of the military that are commonplace in a democratic transition. This is particularly true where the military was more powerful at the time of transition, although having a more recent experience with a coup does not affect the state’s contribution patterns. This chapter also showed that economic incentives for the military are central to contributions, reflected in the fact that large contributions to UN peacekeeping missions are not similarly observed with non-UN missions, where service is typically not reimbursed. Additional evidence of the financial incentive of contributions – and narrowly for the military rather than the state broadly – was found whereby defense budgets tend to remain consistent or increase in new democracies where peacekeeping is utilized, whereas those that do not engage tend to see a decline in military spending after democratization, which risks a major backlash from the military.

In Chapter 4, I turned to the longer-term effects of peacekeeping on new democracies’ militaries, arguing that deployments are strategically made to expose soldiers to the UN’s democratic value system as well as the socializing influence of militaries from other democracies. The findings indicated that deployment is partially driven by this incentive, although the new democracies only appear to strategically seek out missions where there is a greater presence of strong, consolidated democracies, rather than any country considered above the threshold of a consolidated democracy. This finding is borne out in anecdotal evidence of countries pursuing the close association of militaries from countries like France, the United States, and the United Kingdom.

Chapter 5 addressed a similar argument: that UN peacekeeping offers certain professionalization benefits that reconfigure the military as a subordinate and narrowly- purposed institution. Rather than a bottom-up socialization process as in Chapter 5, this

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argument suggests that the role played by the military in UNPKOs can either reinforce or challenge its prior orientation in a top-down fashion. Competing theories of military professionalization suggest countries may seek out missions that have either an objective control or subjective control nature, measured by whether the mission asked troops to engage in narrow defense tasks or broader civil society tasks. The analysis found that this decision is driven by particular domestic conditions: the presence of a strong pre-democracy military legacy drives larger contributions to narrow, objective missions, while increased domestic economic pressure leads to greater contributions to multidimensional, subjective missions.

Although greater inquiry is needed to understand how these motivations coexist, it offers evidence that governments have competing incentives when selecting missions to support.

Finally, in Chapter 6 I provided evidence of the three mechanisms in post- democratization Argentina, Bangladesh, and Ghana. In addition to addressing the domestic political conditions and motivations for making contributions, I also use this chapter to illustrate the effect of these contributions, which was outside the scope of the prior chapters.

These cases provide substantial support for the proposed mechanisms, their complex interconnectedness, and the subsequent benefits they offer for democratic consolidation.

However, these cases also indicate that peacekeeping participation alone is insufficient to reorient the military towards democracy, and must be supplemented by domestic policies and treatment of the military that does not perpetuate its role in political decision-making.

The arguments and findings in this study contribute to our understanding in three areas: the role that international factors (and IOs specifically) can play in democratic consolidation, the dynamic context of civil-military relations in the wake of democratization, and motivations for contributions to UN peacekeeping missions. In particular, it advances the literature on peacekeeping involvement by considering civil-military relations and domestic politics as primary motivations, and goes beyond the scope of most such studies to

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consider heterogeneity across missions and how such variation can satisfy different motivations for participation.

7.3 Alternative Explanations

There are two alternative ways of explaining increased involvement in peacekeeping by new democracies: one that is consistent with the argument I have presented in this dissertation and one perhaps less so. First, new democracies may care more about international reputation and rewards from participating than reconfiguring civil-military relations. Second, leaders of new democracies with more disingenuous motivations may deploy the military to UNPKOs to remove a challenge to their own autocratic tendencies as they take advantage of the weak democratic institutions.

7.3.1 International signaling

First, I have focused on the pursuit of democratization through cultivating a more democratic form of civil-military relations. This approach is therefore restricted to the domestic factors that help or hinder the consolidation of democracy. However, a second major pathway to democratic consolidation through peacekeeping involvement is that of increasing international support: earning political favor, positive reputation, and tangible benefits from other states and IOs such as foreign aid and investment. In reality, this is likely an incentive that runs in parallel with the civil-military relations motivation, where the two may be difficult to disentangle and are likely found in different measure for each state under investigation. Nonetheless, the idea that states contribute to peacekeeping – which is a very conspicuous form of international engagement and one that supports the security and economic interests of some of the world’s most powerful countries – for international benefits

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is likely a common motivation. Little cross-national empirical evidence exists to support this, although two unpublished manuscripts find results favoring this argument. Boutton and

D’Orazio (2017) find that states receiving greater amounts of development aid make larger contributions of troops to UNPKOs. The study does not distinguish between different regime types, suggesting the primary driver for these countries is financial gain devoid of political factors. However, more in-depth analysis must be conducted to understand whether the direction of the relationship is as proposed, or if there is an omitted mediating or third variable that renders the finding spurious (for example, democratizing states may receive more foreign aid and make larger troop contributions, rather than the aid itself being causal in contributions). Moreover, it is unclear why increased foreign aid would lead poorer countries only to make large troop contributions, but not police or other staff contributions.

UNPKO contribution patters in recent decades suggest that civilian police have equally come predominantly from developing countries, and therefore the incentivization of foreign aid would presumably extend to that group also. The fact that foreign aid only increases countries’ troop contributions supports the idea that there is a motivation specific to the military, and that the foreign aid element is therefore proxying for an unobserved factor.

Considering the reverse direction of this relationship, Passmore, Shannon, and Hart (2015) find that contributors to UNPKOs receive increases in foreign aid from the Security Council permanent five states where the great powers have a larger economic interest in the conflict.

This finding supports the idea that new democracies contribute for international support, although the study does not consider new democracies separately to other states and so this cannot be clearly inferred. Moreover, this argument does not necessarily imply that UNPKO contributions were strategic in seeking out foreign aid, and therefore would require much more detailed analysis to challenge the arguments in this volume.

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These arguments notwithstanding, it is highly likely that new democracies do contribute for international reputational and material benefit. At worst, such a motivation would exist alongside the civil-military relations strategy, where being heavily involved in peacekeeping not only addresses the threat of the military but also gains international favor and political and economic support for its development. At best, seeking international support for democratization works through the mechanisms I have proposed: other countries take a more active interest in supporting the consolidation of democracy in the contributing country by giving military aid or training the soldiers, and thereby supporting the military’s transition to a stable and capable defense force without economic grievance or political orientation.

One might argue that the international benefits a contributing country is seeking are strictly of a reputational nature, and therefore have little to do with addressing the threat of the military. In such cases, they may simply want to be seen as a serious democratic player in the international community rather than to receive material benefits. However, I discussed in Chapter 3 how this is unlikely with new democracies making large contributions, since the reputational benefits of peacekeeping are gained through making only small token contributions, not numerically large ones. Moreover, the reputational benefits of serving in regional peacekeeping missions over UN missions would have an equal, if not greater, reputational benefit, and yet the findings in Chapter 3 indicate that new democracies do not contribute to non-UN missions any more than other countries do.

7.3.2 Autocratic backsliding

The second possible alternative explanation for the findings in this study is that newly democratic governments do use peacekeeping as a central role for the military, but do so for more disingenuous reasons. Where coups from the military have become less prominent in

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recent decades, a more prominent assault on democracy has come from civilian governments through gradual and piecemeal shifts away from democratic practices and towards autocratic backslides (Levitsky and Ziblatt 2018). In such instances, peacekeeping might in fact be a tool either to divert the military from preventing such a backslide, or to give the international community the false impression that it is a committed democratic player. With the former, distracting the military from domestic matters (and physically removing large portions of it) would remove an important check on government overreach, which in many instances has resulted in coups to restore stability amid autocratic deterioration. The government might also use peacekeeping as a tool to incentivize the military away from challenging it as it centralized power and turns from democratic government; if the military can be sufficiently rewarded, it may be willing to look the other way as the government grabs more power. With the latter possibility, the government might use peacekeeping as a signal to the international community that it is committed to democratic reform and consolidation. This would therefore serve as a cover for, or distraction from, increasingly autocratic tendencies at home.

Questions abound as to whether these are plausible actions. Would the military be willing to shed its praetorian tendencies in return for peacekeeping service? Would deployment be sufficient to distract the military from negative political shifts? If a government is showing signs of autocratic backsliding, would the UN step in and threaten its peacekeeping benefits?

These are all questions that have yet to be answered in the research, and offer an interesting and important line of inquiry for the future study of peacekeeping.

7.4 Policy Implications

There are numerous positive, and some potentially negative, implications of the arguments I have made in this project. First, that peacekeeping can have a beneficial effect

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not only on the country receiving a mission but also those contributing to the operation is a significant plus for the United Nations, and one that has been largely overlooked in assessing its value. Developed countries may question the utility of making large financial contributions to UN peacekeeping. However, evidence suggest that this is a shrewd move for those countries in addressing conflict while keeping their own costs down (Howard 2017).

Adding to this the idea that instability can be reduced and democracy strengthened in multiple other countries through contributing peacekeepers further supports the case of UN peacekeeping. As such, the international community should embrace the positive effects of peacekeeping for new democracies and use it as a tool to support consolidation in those states.

Ensuring that financial contributions to the peacekeeping purse are paid and on time is a crucial part of this. Financial revenue is a central component of new democracies’ decision to contribute, and the increasing problem of underpayment by member states may threaten the this option for such contributors.

Additionally, strong democracies should not take a back seat to weak democracies and other developing countries by assuming they will shoulder the burden of peacekeeping. I have identified that a major incentive for contributions from new democracies is their exposure to democratic militaries and adopting norms and practices that support democratic governance.

If these influences disappear from the peacekeeping arena, it may become a more detrimental than beneficial experience as peacekeepers are formed into stronger fighting forces but are not redirected from their prior political or non-democratic tendencies. There is therefore no more important a time for strong democracies to be leaders in peacekeeping by offering plentiful resources and direct incentives to those countries sending their troops.

The trend of countries with weak democratic institutions sending more peacekeepers to missions than other countries might also have implications for the mission itself, and the very reputation of the UN. Although democratic militaries can play an important socializing

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role for these countries’ soldiers, there may come an imbalance in the composition of peacekeepers that diminishes this effect. What is left is an operation composed of soldiers less trained in democratic practices and less likely to reflect the core values of the UN. Should this occur (and it likely already has in some instances), the problems commonly associated with UN peacekeeping – corruption, sexual assault, and other crimes – will become more commonplace and further damage the reputation of UN peacekeeping.

Aside from peacekeeping-specific implications, there are also policy implications for new democracies considering peacekeeping as a means to deal with their militaries. Evidence from cases such as Fiji and Bangladesh suggest that indiscriminate contributions to

UNPKOs combined with poor domestic governance can reap negative rather than positive outcomes. Contributing troops to peacekeeping is a two-edged sword that must be wielded carefully and strategically by governments. Sending troops to missions where they will interact with other non-democratic militaries or undertake tasks that reinforce their prior role in domestic politics can increase, rather than decrease, the likelihood of a military intervention into politics. Moreover, removing the military does not absolve the government of the need to pursue stable institutions and good governance, lest the military find itself empowered and better organized and see itself as a viable alternative to a weak democratic government, as was observed in Fiji. The additional failure to disengage the military from politics enhances this risk, where in Bangladesh the continued politicization of the Armed

Forces for partisan one-upmanship prevented it from becoming a truly disengaged institution. Contributions to peacekeeping must therefore be part of a broader strategy to pursue specific benefits of peacekeeping alongside domestic reconfigurations that create a conducive environment for military subordination to the civilian government.

7.5 Looking Ahead

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While this study has addressed a variety of themes pertaining to peacekeeping involvement by new democracies, there are several directions for future research to strengthen this agenda. Most obviously is to consider the effect of these contributions on civil- military relations and democratic consolidation in those countries. While I have explored this in a preliminary fashion through the three cases in Chapter 6, a thorough empirical analysis should consider how variation in peacekeeping contributions affects the intended outcomes at home. This would involve the broad assessment of democratic institutions, as well as the intermediate outcomes related to the mechanisms: the short-term satisfaction of the military and its long-term socialization and professionalization towards democratic behaviors. This could be studied through a variety of means, but field work involving surveys and interviews of military personnel of all ranks and government officials would shed greater light on this.

A second means to strengthen this project is to conduct more, and more detailed, case studies. The three cases in this volume are illustrative of the mechanisms I have proposed, and therefore provide useful affirming evidence. However, a more thorough research design would consider cases where the expected outcome was not observed – new democracies not being involved in peacekeeping despite a threatening military presence – or cases where the outcome was observed from a different set of states; in other words, why do non-new democracies make large contributions of peacekeepers? Having more cases would also overcome the degrees of freedom problem currently present in Chapter 6: multiple causal mechanisms make it difficult to identify the individual strength of any one of them.

Another addition to this research agenda would be to consider the nature of the transition itself. While I have accounted for the past involvement and the current strength of the military at the time of democratic transition, other factors may affect the decision to use peacekeeping. For example, does the outgoing government (which may or may not consist of the military) establish binding rules on its way out that sustain the strength of the military

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in the new regime? Existing work on the nature of transitions will be useful to this inquiry

(e.g. Albertus and Menaldo 2014; Thyne and Powell 2014).

Lastly, I hope to branch out and consider the ideas discussed as alternative explanations above. There is a major lack of research considering the material and amorphous political and economic benefits that peacekeeping contributors (and especially newly democratic ones) accrue from their participation. I therefore plan to consider how peacekeeping is used as a signal to the international community, the response, and the implications for democratic consolidation. I also plan to address the possibility of peacekeeping being used for nefarious purposes by a government seeking to increase its autocratic grip in a weakly democratic system. All of these lines of inquiry will therefore contribute to a much more robust understanding of how and why states participate in UN peacekeeping operations, and the subsequent effect this has on the domestic political system.

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APPENDIX

A1. Measuring Democratization

In Chapter 2 I introduced the complexity and disagreement over how to measure democracy (and thus democratization). The difficulty in reaching consensus on what constitutes a democracy, much less when a state becomes one, has led to varied competing attempts to classify states as democracies or non-democracies. Three datasets were identified by Munck and Verkuilen (2002) and Munck (2009) as being the strongest operationalizations:

Coppedge and Reinicke (1990), Przeworski et al. (2000), and Marshall, Jaggers, and Gurr’s

(2010) Polity dataset. Poast and Urpelainen (2018) further assess the validity of two additional datasets: Vanhanen’s (2000) Polyarchy dataset, and Boix, Miller, and Rosato’s

(2013) more recent dataset. I first turn to datasets not considered for his study, and then discuss three remaining viable datasets, explaining why I ultimately opted for the Polity measure.

Various datasets are inappropriate for this project either because they lack sufficient scope of time or because of their measurement criteria. The Polyarchy measure (Vanhanen

2000) is an example, which measures democracy against the indicators of competition and participation. Some have suggested this is less robust as a measure since it considers aspects of voting behavior (the proportion of votes won by the largest party in the most recent election and the proportion of the electorate that voted in the last election) but not the more specific institutional features of the political system (Munck and Verkuilen 2002; Poast and

Urpelainen 2018). Moreover, the Polyarchy data only extend to 1998. The Coppedge and

Reinicke (1990) dataset is also unhelpful for this study since it only covers the years 1985 and 2000. Some more recent measures, such as those found in the Varieties of Democracy

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project (Coppedge et al. 2018) measure various elements of democracy in indices, such as

electoral democracy, liberal democracy, participatory democracy, deliberative democracy,

and egalitarian democracy. However, these indices are scales from 0 to 1 and their recent

advent to the social sciences means there is no current consensus on how to best identify the

cutoff for a democracy using these scales.

The three remaining viable datasets are Polity IV, Przeworski et al. (2000), and Boix

et al. (2013). Table A1.1 shows the levels of correlation between the three datasets, where

each is a dichotomous measure of democratization for a country-year. It shows the correlation

at both the strictest (t-1) and most relaxed (t-5) operationalizations of democratization. The

scores indicate that Polity is relatively well correlated with the other two measures, which

understandably gets stronger as the time frame from democratization is relaxed from one to

five years. Notably, the correlation between the Cheibub et al. and Boix et al. measures is

stronger than either one’s association with Polity. Part of the variation between the measures

can be explained by missing data for countries in one measure and not others. This

notwithstanding, it is clear that there are potentially important difference between the

coding of the two dichotomous measures.

Table A1.1: Pearson correlation scores between three democratization measures.

Democratization (t-1) Democratization (t-5) Polity Cheibub Boix et Polity Cheibub Boix et et al. al. et al. al. Polity - Polity -

Cheibub et al. 0.374 - Cheibub et al. 0.460 -

Boix et al. 0.431 0.631 - Boix et al. 0.555 0.713 -

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The most significant difference (and relevant to this study) is that Cheibub et al. and

Boix et al. present democracy as a dichotomous measure, while Polity is an ordinal scale.

Proponents of dichotomous measures argue that a country cannot be “somewhat” democratic, and that selecting cases into two groups accounts for important shared characteristics that might be lost with a continuous approach (e.g. Przeworski et al. 2000). On the other side of the argument, a large body of work argues that there are meaningful sub-categories of democracies (Bollen 1990; Dahl 1971, 1989; Collier and Adcock 1999; Elkins 2000), and considering only a dichotomous categorization seems to omit important information.

There are several reasons why I favor a scaled measure of democracy in this study over a dichotomous one. First, empirical evidence supports the idea that the scaled version is stronger. Elkins (2000) conducts construct validity tests of both types of measure and finds that graded measures are not only more reliable empirically, but also more closely conform to social scientists’ theorized role of democracy.

Second, I choose to employ the Polity measure since it allows for assessment that is not possible with dichotomous measures, where one can analyze transitions towards a different regime type (i.e. did a country become more democratic in a given year, even if it didn’t cross the threshold into democracy?). It also means subcategories can be identified, such as strong autocracies, anocracies, weak democracies, and strong democracies. Another debate concerns whether democracy should be a scaled or dichotomous measure. This is particularly important for my analyses in Chapter 2, where I compare the contribution patters of new democracies to established democracies, anocracies, and autocracies, as well as in Chapter 4, where I construct a measure of network democratic-ness that requires knowing which democracies in the system are the strongest (Polity = +10). Dichotomous measures such as Cheibub et al. and Boix et al. preclude the consideration of categories within each classification. Cheibub et al. do designate the type of democracy (parliamentary,

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semi-presidential, and presidential) and the type of dictatorship (military, civilian, and royal). However, while both datasets may be useful for classifying regime types, they are less useful in considering regime transitions or levels of “democratic-ness”.

Since I use a dichotomized version of the ordinal Polity measure, it might appear that separating those above a certain threshold from those below challenges both theoretical and empirical sense. In a way, both approaches are correct. There is a dominant tendency in the literature to consider distinctions between “democracies” and “non-democracies”, indicating that democracy should not be thought of as purely continuous. Indeed, the distribution of

Polity scores is heavily bimodal, clustering around -7 for autocracies and +10 for democracies.

It is therefore reasonable to consider fundamental and important distinctions between the two groups rather than thinking of democracy as merely continuous. For this reason, the

Polity measure is frequently dichotomized in social science research. Further supporting the choice to dichotomize Polity, my results indicate that a dichotomized measure is meaningful, since I find in Chapter 2 that countries recently surpassing the threshold give more peacekeepers than those below it. The robustness tests in that chapter also indicate that there is no relationship between the continuous Polity measure, even when including a quadratic term to focus on countries in the middle of the pack of Polity scores.

The most commonly cited problem with the Polity measure is that it does not make a judgement on when a country should be considered a democracy; rather, it gives each country a democracy “score” from 0 to 10. This has led to varied application in research, although the cutoff is typically between +5 and +7. Marshall, Jaggers, and Gurr (2010), who maintain the polity dataset, consider +6 is the cutoff for a democracy, and +10 for a “full” democracy, which justifies my choice of measurement for “strong democracies” in Chapter 4. +6 is the most standard cutoff in international relations studies, and has been the threshold of choice in the studies assessing peacekeeping contributions and IOs and democratization (Andersson 2002;

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Kathman and Melin 2016; Pevehouse 2002; Poast and Urpelainen 2018; Uzonyi 2015). As a result, I use +6 as the cutoff for this study.

There are several other reasons using Polity makes the most sense for this study.

First, it is the most commonly used measure in the social sciences, and is particular prominent in both international relations and comparative politics. Not only does this suggest it has stood the test of time, but it also implies that studies seeking to contribute to an existing body of work can compare apples to apples by using the same measure. Regarding peacekeeping contributions and regime type, the vast majority of existing studies use Polity as the measure of democracy (Victor 2010 is the exception, where he uses the Freedom House index to test a narrower measure of civil rights and political repression). Polity is also a common measure when linking democratization and international organizations (Pevehouse

2002, 2005; Mansfield and Pevehouse 2006; Poast and Urpelainen 2013, 2015, 2018).

Second, the size and scope of the Polity measure allows for a greater number of observations in the analysis. It covers 167 countries from 1800 to 2017, and therefore has a broad scope across time and space. Cheibub et al. covers only the years 1946-2008, while Boix et al. extends to 2010. Since my data go to 2011, this is not a significant factor in my choice, but does produce additional observations nonetheless.

A2. Reverse Causality

A possible contention to my argument is that reverse causality exists unaccounted for in the empirical testing, therefore leading to biased results or identifying a relationship where it doesn’t exist. Specifically, it may be that making large contributions in time period t contributes to a country’s democratization in t+1, t+2, etc. It is theoretically plausible that this would occur: states pursuing democratization may engage in international commitments

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such as peacekeeping hoping to reap various benefits that support its transition at a later time. Indeed, I have argued that personnel contributions support consolidation of democracy after it has already occurred, not that it will catalyze its occurrence in the first place. There are several reasons I do not believe this introduces a systematic problem for my analyses.

First is the fact that various lags of the independent variable, democratization, are used that make reverse causality increasingly unlikely. Granted, they are not true lags (rather, they are increasingly relaxed windows of “recent democratization” from democratizing in the prior year to democratizing in the previous five years). However, the fact that each successive broadening of the variable shows a relationship makes endogeneity highly unlikely.

Moreover, even the strictest version of democratization – democratizing in the previous year

– is lagged by one year, reducing the possibility of a contemporaneous effect of the contribution on democratization.

Second, a number of the additional tests conducted in this study offer evidence against the presence of reverse causality. Model 7 in Chapter 2 tested the relationship between middling Polity score countries and UNPKO contributions. If it was the case that countries pursuing democratization were increasing contributions to reach that goal, we would likely expect to see higher contributions among countries just below, as well as just above the +6 threshold. However, Model 7 finds no such relationship: countries clustered around the democracy threshold are no more likely to contribute large numbers than other states.

Moreover, if this argument were true, we might expect different results in Table 2.3, where anocracies would give more peacekeepers than other regime types. Yet this is not observed.

Additional evidence that reverse causality is unlikely is found in the cases considered within this study. Of the three main cases – Argentina, Bangladesh, and Ghana – peacekeeping contributions were small or non-existent prior to full democratization, after which they increased rapidly. It is also the case that a nontrivial number of new democracies

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in the sample did not exist prior to democratization (largely former Soviet and Yugoslav republics). It would therefore be impossible for these countries’ democratization to have been driven by peacekeeping contributions.

Lastly, the process of democratization is so complex that it is highly unlikely a model without very robust specification would identify an effect between UNPKO contributions and a state becoming a democracy. As currently structured, the models include vastly insufficient covariates to account for the multitude of factors that contribute to democratization, a process that has been particularly difficult to identify in a robust literature.

A3. Additional Data

Table A4.1: Descriptive statistics (Chapter 2)

Standard N Mean Minimum Maximum deviation Contribution 4,195 269.086 930.548 0 10,707 Democratization t-1 3,504 0.021 0.144 0 1 Democratization t-2 3,504 0.042 0.201 0 1 Democratization t-3 3,504 0.063 0.244 0 1 Democratization t-4 3,504 0.083 0.276 0 1 Democratization t-5 3,504 0.103 0.304 0 1 Years of democracy 1,098 9.340 6.922 0 31 Polity 3,532 2.899 6.699 -10 10 Years since coup 4,182 41.731 25.113 0 64 P5 4,217 0.026 0.158 0 1 Log population 4,145 8.538 2.136 2.197 14.129 Log military size 4,015 3.177 1.930 0 8.161 Log military spending 3,872 11.789 4.417 0 20.357 Log GDP pc 4,207 8.510 1.278 4.896 11.541 Intrastate conflict 4,217 0.151 0.358 0 1 Global missions 4,217 16.287 3.208 8 21 Participate (contribution 4,195 0.487 0.500 0 1 dummy) Total military 4,093 242.277 867.119 0 9,963 contribution Police contribution 4,093 30.269 110.404 0 2,041

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Table A4.2: ITSA cases and matches (Chapter 3)

Country Matches Balance cut off27 Bangladesh 100 (Colombia), 140 (Brazil), 145 (Bolivia), 165 (Uruguay), 530 - (Ethiopia), 679 (Yemen), 690 (Kuwait), 705 (Kazakhstan), 775 (Myanmar) Ghana 94 (Costa Rica), 212 (Luxembourg), 373 (Azerbaijan), 438 (Guinea), 0.1 439 (Burkina Faso), 482 (Central African Republic), 500 (Uganda), 517 (Rwanda), 690 (Kuwait), 701 (Turkmenistan), 703 (Kyrgyzstan), 910 (Papua New Guinea) Kenya 370 (Belarus), 373 (Azerbaijan), 471 (Cameroon), 475 (Nigeria), 680 0.1 (South Yemen), 701 (Turkmenistan), 705 (Kazakhstan), 835 (Brunei) Senegal 52 (Trinidad & Tobago), 145 (Bolivia), 373 (Azerbaijan), 437 (Ivory 0.05 Coast), 471 (Cameroon), 481 (Gabon), 484 (Congo), 520 (Somalia), 690 (Kuwait), 701 (Turkmenistan), 702 (Tajikistan), 812 (Laos) Poland 630 (Iran) 0.05 South 225 (Switzerland), 316 (Czech Republic), 385 (Norway), 705 0.2 Africa (Kazakhstan) Malaysia 160 (Argentina), 235 (Portugal), 305 (Austria), 370 (Belarus), 375 0.05 (Finland), 390 (Denmark), 690 (Kuwait), 696 (UAE), 698 (Oman), 704 (Uzbekistan), 705 (Kazakhstan), 818 (Vietnam) Indonesia 211 (Belgium), 235 (Portugal), 305 (Austria), 316 (Czech Republic), 0.05 350 (Greece), 375 (Finland), 385 (Norway), 390 (Denmark), 696 (UAE), 920 (New Zealand) Zambia 439 (Burkina Faso) 0.05 Benin 51 (Jamaica), 140 (Brazil), 490 (DR Congo), 500 (Uganda) 0.1

Taiwan 230 (Spain), 670 (Saudi Arabia), 710 (China) 0.05 Liberia 52 (Trinidad & Tobago), 115 (Suriname), 352 (Cyprus), 370 (Belarus), 0.05 435 (Mauritania), 439 (Burkina Faso), 461 (Togo), 475 (Nigeria), 483 (Chad), 517 (Rwanda), 520 (Somalia), 522 (Djibouti), 531 (Eritrea), 690 (Kuwait), 701 (Turkmenistan), 704 (Uzbekistan), 705 (Kazakhstan), 811 (Cambodia), 812 (Laos), 910 (Papua New Guinea) Guinea- 420 (Gambia), 475 (Nigeria), 531 (Eritrea), 590 (Mauritius), 701 0.1 Bissau (Turkmenistan), 705 (Kazakhstan), 811 (Cambodia) Georgia 52 (Trinidad & Tobago), 438 (Guinea), 439 (Burkina Faso), 481 0.05 (Gabon), 484 (Congo), 500 (Uganda), 517 (Rwanda), 541 (Mozambique), 701 (Turkmenistan), 812 (Laos), 910 (Papua New Guinea) Nicaragua 663 (Jordan), 704 (Uzbekistan) 0.25 Mexico 100 (Colombia), 160 (Argentina), 235 (Portugal), 316 (Czech 0.05 Republic), 345 (Yugoslavia), 375 (Finland), 475 (Nigeria), 620 (Libya), 678 (North Yemen), 690 (Kuwait), 760 (Bhutan), 775 (Myanmar), 830 (Singapore)

27 This is the minimum required p-value to achieve balance across the treated and control units, where the value represents the difference between the pre-treatment trend between the treatment and control units, and higher values indicate a stricter cutoff. For example, if p<0.2 is the parameter, all matches with a statistically significant difference below p=0.2 (indicated in the coefficient for Z*T) are removed as possible matches.

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Lesotho 160 (Argentina), 461 (Togo), 482 (Central African Republic), 490 (DR 0.05 Congo), 572 (Swaziland), 812 (Laos) Guyana 500 (Uganda), 510 (Tanzania), 531 (Eritrea), 812 (Laos) 0.1 Burundi 51 (Jamaica), 352 (Cyprus), 475 (Nigeria), 482 (Central African 0.05 Republic), 510 (Tanzania), 517 (Rwanda), 520 (Somalia), 531 (Eritrea), 690 (Kuwait), 701 (Turkmenistan), 705 (Kazakhstan), 811 (Cambodia) Albania 52 (Trinidad & Tobago), 92 (El Salvador), 370 (Belarus), 373 0.05 (Azerbaijan), 437 (Ivory Coast), 475 (Nigeria), 510 (Tanzania), 541 (Mozambique), 690 (Kuwait), 701 (Turkmenistan), 702 (Tajikistan), 705 (Kazakhstan)

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