After over 150 years of troubled history, fourteen years of civil war, war crimes and horrific abuses of power, Liberia stands at the precipice of history. The war came to a merciful end in 2003, when Charles Taylor fled into exile, but the war's ravages were complete. The United States Agency for International Development characterised Liberia's post-conflict landscape this way:
[o]ver 250,000 people, most of them civilian non-combatants, have lost their lives in the civil war. More than 1.3 million have been displaced, including hundreds of thousands who fled the country. Abductions, torture, rape and other human rights abuses have taken place on a massive scale. It is estimated that at least one in ten children may have been recruited into militias at one time or another. A similar percentage has been traumatized by seeing their families and friends murdered and raped (US Agency for International Development, 2004).
Liberia remains dependent upon one of the world's largest United Nations peacekeeping forces for its survival, and fears are mounting over the looming departure of peacekeepers. Who will provide security then? Will spoilers plunge the country back into violence? How will Liberia ward off potential spillover effects from violence in neighbouring Sierra Leone, Guinea, or Côte d'Ivoire? These questions were presaged in the peace talks leading up to Taylor's departure, and it was decided that wholesale transformation of the security sector was required so that Liberia could secure itself and not be forever reliant on international peacekeepers.
Security sector reform (SSR) is a crucial element of peacebuilding, especially in post-conflict settings. SSR is the wholesale transformation of indigenous security organisations into effective, legitimate, apolitical, and accountable institutions that uphold the rule of law and maintain the state's monopoly on force. At a minimum, the security sector comprises three categories of actors: those directly involved in the protection of civilians and the state from violent harms (e.g. law enforcement or military); insti-tutions that govern these actors (e.g. Ministries of Interior, Defense, Justice); and executive and legislative oversight bodies.
Failure to successfully implement SSR can seriously compromise peacebuilding efforts for several reasons. First, unaccountable and/or unprofessional security forces can become spoilers, which can hold the entire peacebuilding process hostage to their narrow interests under threat of violence. This can lead to a relapse of armed conflict. Second, it can also prolong peacekeeping missions, as security is a precondition of development. Last, SSR is a prerequisite for the exit strategy of costly peacekeeping missions, since it allows countries to secure themselves.
The central question of SSR in a country like Liberia is how to transform the military from a symbol of terror into an instrument of democracy. The Armed Forces of Liberia (AFL) was complicit in human rights atrocities and the descent into civil war. Hence, the objective of the Joint US-Liberia SSR programme was to demobilise Liberia's armed forces and reconstitute the AFL and Ministry of Defence (MOD) in toto.1
Perhaps the most controversial aspect of this innovative programme was the United States’ decision to completely outsource this critical task to private military companies (PMCs). Rarely in modern history has one sovereign nation hired a private entity to raise a military for another sovereign nation. This briefing outlines some of the key elements and outcomes of this prototypical programme, as seen from one of its early architects which may augur future US engagement in Africa. This is especially relevant given the new US military's Africa Command (AFRICOM), which will likely outsource similar missions to private companies in the future.
The Decision to Outsource
Following Taylor's departure, the UN Security Council established the United Nations Mission in Liberia (UNMIL) on 19 September 2003. At the time, it was the largest UN peacekeeping mission in the world, growing to 15,000 ‘blue helmets’ with a robust civilian component. Jacques Paul Klein was appointed as the Special Representative of the Secretary General and UNMIL officially took over peacekeeping duties on 1 October 2003. Two months later it began the Disarmament, Demobilisation, Rehabilitation and Reintegration (DDRR) process of approximately 100,000 people.
From 4 June to 18 August 2003 the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS) brokered the Comprehensive Peace Agreement (CPA), also known as the ‘Accra Accords’. In Part Four of these Accords on Security Sector Reforms,2 the UN and US agreed to share responsibilities, with the UN agreeing to transform the Liberian National Police and the US the AFL. The US's commitment was managed by the US Department of State (DOS), which organised an initial assessment trip in January 2004. This was followed by a subject matter expert assessment in May, consisting of personnel from US Department of Defense (DOD) and two companies: DynCorp International (DynCorp) and Pacific Architects and Engineers (PA&E). The purpose of this assessment mission, during which time one of the DOD civilian staff members was murdered, was to determine the operational requirements for SSR of the AFL.
Following the assessment mission, DOD concluded it could not conduct the SSR programme owing to resource constraints, driven in part by operations in Iraq and Afghanistan. Consequently, the DOS decided to wholly ‘contract out’ the task of reconstituting the AFL and MoD to the private sector. Not long after the assessment trip, DOS tendered a ‘Request for Proposal’ to DynCorp and PA&E. Only these two companies were allowed to submit bids as they had earlier won the five-year Indefinite Deliv-ery/Indefinite Quantity (IDIQ) contract from DOS to support peacekeeping and security efforts in Africa. IDIQ contracts essentially act as umbrella contracts between the US government and select companies for a fixed period of time, and are meant to streamline the contracting process. After reviewing both proposals, DOS decided to divide the duties between the two contractors. DynCorp was responsible for demobilising the legacy force and then recruiting, vetting and training the AFL and MoD. PA&E was responsible for fielding the AFL and providing mentorship once the units were in place. Both firms were required to engage in construction of military bases and other facilities as necessary, with authorisation from DOS.
Designing the Force
The SSR process began by informally identifying and engaging key stakeholders, which included the legacy force, former rebels, the host government, civil society, and the international community. To their credit, DynCorp eschewed ill-fitting templates of the US military for the new AFL, and sought to craft – in partnership with the Liberian government – a more appropriate security force, which is discussed below. After a full-year of conversation, a vision of the AFL's mission, composition, and desired end state was reached. It would be a mistake to assume that there was uniform consensus or that all stakeholders were engaged fully. The prominent voices in the discussion were the US government, which was sponsoring the programme, and the National Transitional Government of Liberia (NTGL).
Ultimately the vision entailed a small all-volunteer force (approximately 2,000 persons) that could be scaled upwards in time. It was acknowledged that a 2,000 person force would be insufficient to defend all of Liberia, should a full-scale war erupt. But it was also acknowledged that the size needed to be constrained by the government's ability to pay soldiers’ salaries on a regular basis, as history suggested that unpaid soldiers were a greater threat to Liberia's security than threat of an invading army.
It was also agreed that the AFL should have a defence-oriented force posture and light infantry organisational structure that was strong enough to repel cross-border militant attacks but not so strong as to threaten Liberia's neighbours. This force would maintain a 12thgrade functional literacy level, balanced ethnic and gender mix within the ranks, and foster an apolitical professional ethos, especially in the leadership, that respects the rule of law, cultivates a public service ethos, and accepts civilian control of the military. Finally, the AFL and ideally the entire Liberian security sector should embrace a ‘human security’ model.
DynCorp officially proposed the initial force structure and ‘Table of Organization and Equipment’ – the blueprint for the new AFL – to the State Department in July 2005. In military parlance, a ‘force structure’ is the wire-diagram of units in the AFL and MoD, from the General Staff down to the basic infantry squad. A ‘Table of Organization and Equipment’ is a spreadsheet inventory of personnel and equipment, delineating for each unit the exact rank, title, and military occupational specialty of each soldier and every piece of equipment authorised for the unit. The original blueprint for the AFL totalled 1,928 soldiers: a brigade headquarters company (103 personnel), two light infantry battalions (663 personnel each), an engineer company (162 personnel), a military police company (114 personnel), a training company (180 personnel), a military band (40 personnel), and three military personnel at the Ministry of Defense, which was overwhelmingly civilian in composition. Although this blueprint has changed over time, the original concept for the AFL remains consistent.
Establishing the Programme
It is impossible to truncate a multi-year, highly complex process, with more than a few surprises, into a single article. In brief, the AFL SSR programme was originally envisaged to proceed in several phases. Phase I was political consultation with stakeholders and sensitising the public to the creation of a new AFL. The key issues were: identifying and engaging stakeholders; the composition and mission of the AFL; and overcoming the legacy of atrocities it inherited from the civil war. Phase II was safely demobilising the legacy force. The key issues included: who is eligible for demobilisation benefits; finding donor money to pay for those benefits; controls to prevent fraud during the demobilisation process; public sensitisation to the programme; and fears that disgruntled demobilised soldiers would incite political violence. At the same time, construction of training facilities commenced. The primary concerns were: negotiating site selection; finding competent construction companies; theft of materials; and significant delays caused by the six-month rainy season.
Phase III was recruiting and vetting the force. The primary concern for recruiting was attracting women and minority ethnic groups to serve in what was traditionally an ethnically Krahn-dominated institution. As for vetting, it is difficult to establish mere identity in post-conflict Liberia, to say nothing of a full background check. Creating a competent vetting programme was a key challenge.
Phase IV was military training and equipping. The chief concerns were lack of literacy, leadership selection and instilling a professional, apolitical ethos that placed service to the country above tribe or individual. Simultaneously, MoD transformation began, which included hiring and training all civilian personnel, as well as the creation of all AFL policies. Here the challenges were finding qualified mentors and synchronising the development of the MoD with interdependent government institutions.
Phase V was fielding the new force, which meant deployment of soldiers to their permanent duty station. At the time of publication, the programme remains mired in Phase IV due to several reasons, including sensitivity and uniqueness of the task, erratic programme funding by the US, and irregularities of DynCorp management (see Malan, 2008). Last, almost every aspect of this programme is sui generis, as there are no textbooks on comprehensive SSR, and this made progress problematic.
Programme Timeline
2003 August: Charles Taylor flees Liberia and ECOWAS peacekeepers and US troops arrive. The interim government and rebels sign the CPA. Gyude Bryant is chosen to head the interim government (NTGL). September–October: US forces pull out, and UNMIL begins the peacekeeping mission. December: UNMIL begins DDRR for non-statutory (non-AFL) combatants only. AFL personnel are disarmed, but not demobilised, rehabilitated and reintegrated, leaving that to the US government, as agreed to during CPA negotiations.
2004 January: The US Department of State sends a small contingent to Liberia to begin a preliminary assessment. The US is responsible for Part IV, Article Seven of the CPA, which covers SSR for the AFL. DOS is the lead agency within the US government for this task. February: International donors pledge more than US$500 million in reconstruction aid. May: DOS organises a ten-day assessment of SSR for the AFL. The assessment team consists of US personnel (mostly from the military) and two contractor teams: DynCorp and PA&E. A member of the assessment team is murdered in his hotel room during a robbery. June: DoD decides it cannot conduct the SSR programme owing to resource constraints. DOS decides to contract the SSR programme, and tenders a ‘Request for Proposal’ to DynCorp and PA&E. July: DOS decides to split the contract between the two contractors, making DynCorp responsible for selecting and training the force and PA&E for fielding the force. However, DOS does not officially initiate the programme or release funds until programme preconditions are met (e.g., political support of the NTGL to demobilise legacy AFL veterans). October: Riots in Monrovia leave 16 people dead; UNMIL says former combatants and AFL veterans were behind the violence.
2005 February–March: Consultations with major stakeholders regarding the mission and composition of the future AFL. This includes civil society, the standing AFL, former warring parties and political factions, the NTGL, UNMIL, and other entities. A comprehensive recruiting and vetting plan is devised intended to screen out human rights abusers from joining the AFL. March– May: Consultations with stakeholders continue. Discussions include the problem of safely demobilising the legacy force without provoking political violence, mission and force structure of future AFL, location of training bases, sensitisation campaign for civil society, and arrears owed AFL veterans. The demobilisation plan is drafted and presented to Chairman Bryant, who signs Executive Order 5, authorising the full demobilisation of all legacy AFL units. DOS officially initiates the SSR programme and releases funds to DynCorp to begin recruiting and building. PA&E will begin its programme once training commences. July: The demobilisation and reintegration of 13,770 legacy soldiers commences. DynCorp builds a demobilisation site outside Monrovia. The US government approves the initial blueprint for the new AFL's force structure. Construction of AFL training facilities commences but is slowed by the monsoon rainy season. September: The NTGL agrees that the international community should supervise its finances in an effort to counter corruption. October: Recruiting and vetting for the new AFL begins. Over 12,000 applicants will be processed in the two years to come. 23 November: Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf becomes the first woman to be elected as an African head of state. She takes office the following January.
2006 January: The demobilisation of the AFL is successful completed, the first time in modern African history that an entire standing military was safely demobilised without significant incident. February: A Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) is set up to investigate human rights abuses between 1979 and 2003. Tensions transpire between the TRC and SSR programme, when the TRC's request for access to SSR vetting records is denied by the SSR team on account that it might compromise sources and methods, possibly resulting in reprisal killings of witnesses who spoke to the SSR vetting team on condition of anonymity about human rights abuses of some AFL candidates. April: MOD transformation begins. Former President Charles Taylor appears before the UN-backed Sierra Leone Special Court on charges of crimes against humanity. In June the International Criminal Court at The Hague agrees to host his trial. May: Brownie Samukai, the Liberian Minister of Defence, spends a week in Washington, DC collaboratively formulating the Liberian National Defence Strategy, modelled on a human security paradigm.
June: A first draft of the National Defence Strategy is written, seeking to align the AFL's mission with the goals of development for durable stability. Progress is limited because the Government of Liberia, UNMIL, the US government and others are delayed with the National Security Strategy. The UN Security Council eases a ban on weapons sales so that Liberia can arm newly trained security forces. An embargo on Liberian timber exports is lifted shortly afterwards. July: The first class of AFL basic training begins. It is a pilot programme of about 110 candidates, mostly selected for their leadership potential in order to fill the leadership ranks first. DynCorp begins the process of purchasing and importing arms into Liberia for the AFL. President Johnson-Sirleaf switches on generator-powered streetlights in the capital, which has been without electricity for 15 years. August: The first major shipment of arms arrives in Monrovia for the AFL. It is the first legal shipment in 15 years. November: The first AFL basic training class graduates. Training of future classes is halted owing to US budget constraints.
2007 September: 630 recruits have graduated from the Initial Entry Training (IET) course. Owing to cost overruns, IET was shortened from eleven weeks to eight weeks by cutting three weeks that were devoted to human rights, civics, and laws of war training. March: 119 civilian MOD employees graduate a 17-week of SSR programme training course. April: The UN Security Council votes to lift its ban on Liberian diamond exports. The ban was imposed in 2001 to stem the flow of ‘blood diamonds,’ which helped fund the civil war. June: The start of Charles Taylor's war crimes trial at The Hague, where he stands accused of instigating atrocities in Sierra Leone.
2008 January: 485 soldiers graduated from IET.
Surprises
As with any complex peacebuilding mission, few things went as planned. Some of this was due to the difficulty of the task and environment; however, some was due to the unique relationship between DynCorp, the US government, and Liberian government. To be clear, this trifecta produced both positive and negative results, many of which were unexpected.
Irreconcilable Differences
Profit-motive and public policy can be conflicting interests. DynCorp, like most private companies, is naturally profit-seeking and is guided by market forces in the search for more demand for its services. Government institutions, on the other hand, are primarily interested in achieving public goods through public policy. Profit versus policy can be conflicting goals in public-private partnerships, such as the US and DynCorp, where the government utilises private means to achieve public goods. To resolve this, governments can shape companies’ interests and behaviour through market regulation that incentivise the private sector to realise responsible outcomes. However, current regulation and oversight in the US of this multi-billion dollar industry is diminimus. With a few notable exceptions, there has yet to be a serious discussion within the US government defining the appropriate spheres of activity for private contractors and government personnel in the security sector, much less effective regulatory oversight and concrete accountability mechanisms. Owing to this, the PMC industry behaves like an unguided missile, seeking profit wherever the market will bear it, even if it means a loss for society as a whole (see Avant, 2005).
Another deleterious side effect of this public-private partnership is the evolving co-dependency between government and the industry based on the asymmetries of information that exist between them. This industry has boomed from a multi-million to a multi-billion dollar market since 9/11, owing to the US govern-ment's need of ‘wartime’ muscle. Unfortunately, the US bureaucracy that governs this industry was unable to grow at a commensurate rate, as the public sector is generally less nimble at growth than the private sector. Consequently, there is a paucity of government administrators to oversee these large companies, and those that exist are generally unqualified, ill-equipped and/ or over-tasked. In Liberia for example, DynCorp's contract overseer was a US Navy officer with absolutely no experience in building armies, especially given his background as a sailor. Nor was he a Certified Public Accountant or fully trained contract officer, skilled in managing a multi-million dollar contract with a large, savvy multinational company. Although his efforts were laudable and tireless, the US government simply did not equip him with the requisite tools he needed to achieve his assignment.
Consequently, there was a substantial knowledge gap between the officer in charge of overseeing the contract and the company, which DynCorp could exploit for profit. He was largely dependent upon DynCorp's technical opinions in order to make relevant programmatic decisions on behalf of the US government. The problem was that DynCorp have a vested interest in steering the government towards profitable outcomes rather than good public policy. This might include inflating the need for more staff than is required or purchasing more equipment at the government's expense. DynCorp, like many government contractors, makes its profit on ‘time and materials,’ meaning that they charge the government a premium for every hour an employee works or for every item (no matter how small) that is purchased. How much a premium they charge largely constitutes the company's profit margin.
There are other ways that DynCorp had the opportunity to manipulate public outcomes for private gains. For example, DynCorp occupied a unique position during the consultations: impromptu facilitator. Achieving some modicum of consent from myriad stakeholders regarding the SSR programme was vital. Ideally, it would have fallen to the US government to drive this conversation. However, US embassy staffing was thin and over-burdened. As a result, the task of engaging stakeholders unofficially fell to DynCorp. Although DynCorp had no ‘vote’ in the outcome of these informal stakeholder consultations, it occupied the privileged position of agenda setter: identifying and sequencing the issues to be discussed; shaping outcomes by strategically proposing solutions for stakeholders to react to; and the de facto selection of stakeholder leadership by choosing whom to engage and when, regardless of whether their opinions represented the group as a whole. Consequently, the company could partly shape outcomes.
In my earlier experience, programme managers at DynCorp did not deliberately manipulate stakeholder consultations for a wider profit margin and instead focused solely on achieving the mission as outlined in the US govern-ment's issued Statement of Work. However, this public-private partnership was patently vulnerable to exploitation and warrants concern: the lack of industry oversight combined with the lethal nature of the work could have explosive consequences for Africa.
Principal-Agent Issues
However, not every aspect of this public-private partnership is negative. These companies can act as institutional ‘freeagents’ who are not beholden to entrenched viewpoints, agendas, interests, budget battles or turf-wars. Consequently, they can propose and implement practical solutions without regard to bureaucratic dogma. This is not to suggest that DynCorp was able to act autonomously in Monrovia: it was not. But DynCorp managers did enjoy a modicum of latitude that US government bureaucrats could not, especially along the interagency fault lines between DOD and the US Department of State. Moreover, given the ‘whole of government’ nature of SSR, DynCorp could act as a cross-cutting agent throughout the government (see OECD-DAC, 2007).
In fact, DynCorp could even advocate for the raw interests of Liberians in back offices of the Pentagon and State Department in Washington, DC. For example, it became evident during the consultations that Liberians were strong advocates of gender equality in the ranks while the US government was not. Although this SSR programme was managed by the State Department, it would frequently confer with DOD on technical issues regarding the AFL. Certain elements in DOD opposed the idea of women serving in ‘front line’ combat units, such as the infantry, which is the practice of the US army. Acting as a third-party facilitator, DynCorp was, in some ways, an unwitting arbitrator in a debate between the defence establishment in Washington, DC and the stakeholders in Liberia. As a structural ‘other’ in the process, which was nominally dispassionate on the issue, DynCorp managers could credibly present ideas and recommendations to stakeholders without the burdens of institutional loyalty or prejudice. This helped drive the argument for gender parity, since key managers in DynCorp were persuaded by the Liberians’ case, championing it within the walls of the Washington, DC bureaucracy and effectually giving voice to Liberian interests. Ultimately, DOS opted for gender parity, overturning DOD's desire to utilise US military templates – such as no women in infantry units – for other nations’ militaries.
Consequently, Liberian women now enjoy greater equality in the ranks than do American women. This remarkable outcome was partly driven by DynCorp's position as a comparative ‘free agent’ in the US bureaucracy and facilitator in the consultation process. It was also largely driven by individual personalities on the ground rather than any corporate philosophy, demonstrating once more the vulnerability of the process to manipulation, either positive or negative.
Innovative Solutions
Another positive facet of this private-public partnership is innovative thought. As mentioned above, the DOD is often tempted to utilise ill-fitting US templates for foreign militaries, whether they are appropriate or not. US ‘train and equip’ programmes typically overlay US strategy, procedures, doctrine, and other US ‘best practices’ on foreign forces that receive the training. Examples of ‘train and equip’ programmes include: Joint Combined Exchange Training; International Military Education and Training; and Foreign Military Financing. Recently, the US government greatly expanded this capability through ‘1206 funding,’ named for the section of the 2006 National Defense Authorization Act in the 2006 defence budget. This authority allows the DOD, in consultation with the State Department, to spend up to $200 million a year to train and equip the militaries of strategic partners in the US's global ‘war on terror’.
The problem is that military templates that might work well for the US may not work well for Liberia. Liberia needs a Liberian solution. This requires more than a ‘train and equip’ mentality, which only provides better shooters in newer equipment. These programmes are necessary but insufficient for wholesale SSR, as they fail to address the underlying causes of why security sectors fail: corruption, human rights abuse, incompetent leadership, culture of impunity, lack of ethnic balance, etc.
For instance, during the initial SSR assessment mission to Liberia in May, 2004, the US military proposed a 4,020-person AFL, including a 412-person combat engineer battalion that would conduct tasks such as mine laying, constructing field fortifications, and digging tank traps.3 However, Liberia is not in danger of a World War Two-style blitzkrieg from Sierra Leone. Instead, its engineer needs are basic infrastructure repair such as roads, bridges and buildings, to ensure the logistical resupply of bases and humanitarian relief. Also, conspicuously absent from the briefing was any plan to transform the Ministry of Defense and build institutional capacity for the AFL. Also absent was a recruiting, vetting and training plan for the AFL. Last, even though this was only a concept briefing based on a quick trip to Liberia, it lacked significant input from indigenous stakeholders or experts in West African security. In fact, the majority of officers who served on the assessment mission had never set foot in Africa before.
These and other problems were addressed a year later by DynCorp – in partnership with the NTGL and US government – after consultations with stakeholders and non-US experts, a practice not usually employed by DOD in ‘train and equip’ programmes. This led to innovative recommendations and a more tailored force for Liberia. For example, the force was ‘simplified’ greatly. DynCorp opted for a basic motorised infantry brigade that was not dependent on expensive technologies that are difficult to source and maintain in Africa, no ‘elite’ units such as Taylor's former ‘Special Anti-Terrorist Unit (SATU)’ which could terrorise the population, or high-caliber weaponry such as tanks or artillery that could threaten neighbours. By eschewing the DOD's penchant to create miniature US-militaries around the world, Liberia enjoys a more sustainable force that is better tailored for the needs of the country.
There were other significant innovations, three of which warrant further analysis. The first is the creation of a rigorous human rights vetting model for AFL candidates to ensure past human rights abusers do not enter the AFL. This is an enormous challenge in a post-conflict environment where credible public records and other instruments of background checks are utterly lacking (McFate, 2007). The second is the institutionalisation of a special ombudsman-like office within the Ministry of Defense to address issues of tribal and gender equality. During Samuel Doe's reign, the AFL devolved into a sectarian institution dominated by his Krahn tribe, which at times used the military as a tool for ethnic cleansing. It was important to prevent this from happening again.
The third example was placing human rights, ‘laws of war,’ and civics training equal to combat related training, such as shooting. Given the AFL's troubled past, stakeholders urged that every soldier must understand that knowing when to pull the trigger was as important as hitting what you were aiming at. Accordingly, three of the eleven weeks of Basic Training (also called Initial Entry Training) were devoted to civics training, an unprecedented development in military training in Africa or elsewhere.
Tragically, DynCorp later opted to cut this training, shortening Basic Training to eight weeks, thus saving money. This is a mistake. As Mark Malan recommends in a recent report on Liberia's SSR:
Congress should insist on more credible measures to ensure that civics and human rights become a central element of the US training program for the AFL (Malan, 2008:xi).
Prelude to Future US Engagement in Africa?
The US-Liberia SSR Programme may prove a good indicator of future US engagement in Africa, especially given the newly established US military Africa Command or AFRICOM. AFRICOM will likely outsource a good portion of its capabilities to PMCs given the complementary interests of supply and demand. AFRICOM has a huge mandate yet will not be given dedicated military units to accomplish its mission. In fact, no new military units will be created for AFRICOM at all, save the headquarters itself currently located at Stuttgart, Germany. Worse, it cannot expect to ‘borrow’ existing units elsewhere because of the huge demand for troops in Iraq and Afghanistan. How will it accomplish its mission? By outsourcing it to PMCs.
Which is exactly what PMCs are waiting for. This multi-billion dollar industry is looking for the next US-sponsored conflict market once the Iraq and Afghanistan ‘bubble bursts,’ and they see that market as Africa, a continent of crisis. Thanks to the wars in the Middle East and opportunities like the US-Liberia SSR Programme in Africa, this industry has honed its services in the areas that AFRICOM most needs: training and equipping; war-zone logistics; humanitarian response; post-conflict reconstruction; infrastructure repair; and SSR. The symmetry of supply and demand between PMCs and AFRICOM are exquisite.
Conclusion
The US-Liberia SSR Programme is an excellent prism into the future of US engagement on the continent, especially vis-à-vis AFRICOM. The complex outcomes that stem from outsourcing core military tasks, such as making militaries, to PMCs augur insights into how AFRICOM might engage Africa. This article briefly charts some of these outcomes, both positive and negative, from an ‘insider's’ perspective.
However, larger concerns loom on the horizon. The utilisation of PMCs in Africa is more sensitive than in the Middle East given Africa's lamentable past experiences with colonialism and mercenaries. This will prove a public diplomacy challenge for AFRICOM, which will seek to win ‘hearts and minds’ for the American cause. Moreover, consistent with the rule of ‘unintended consequences,’ the reliance by AFRICOM on PMCs may unwittingly generate a wider market for force on the continent, attracting future PMCs from Russia or elsewhere, in addition to the possibility of African PMCs. Will demand diversify to encompass multinational companies, NGOs, opposition groups, and private individuals? What will happen if market forces demand greater combat-oriented services? Could, for example, an NGO hire a PMC to conduct an armed humanitarian intervention in Darfur to ‘save lives’ in the name of human rights and the ‘Responsibility to Protect’ doctrine? What are the second, third and fourth order repercussions of this action? Could it exacerbate on-the-ground conflict? Draw the US into a war with Sudan? Trigger a UN Chapter 7 intervention? The implications of this on global security governance are terrifying, and few would welcome the development of an industry vested in conflict in Africa. Yet these critical questions remain scarcely examined.