|
Boston Sunday Globe Feeding the War Machine in EthiopiaWhen Ethiopia's people, not its army might have been fed Western powers ceded close control of massive food aid effort, thereby fattening the war effort against Eritrea By Sam Barnes After listening to news last week from Ethiopia and Eritrea --Ethiopia on Tuesday opened a huge, and perhaps decisive, new offensive in its two-year-old battle against Eritrea -- it's hard not to think of what could have been done to prevent the carnage of this war. Often in international disputes, there are fleeting moments in which peace is possible, but too often those become lost opportunities, a chance for political action missed. One such moment occurred shortly after the war erupted in 1998. In December, six months after the Ethiopian-Eritrean war began, the Ethiopian government issued a contingency plan to, as the title of the document declared, "Meet the Humanitarian Needs of the Displaced People in the Regional State of Tigray." This plan included two scenarios. The first -- which reflected the actual situation -- claimed 315,976 people displaced along the Eritrean border, requiring 65,000 tons of international food aid valued at $150 million. The second presumed a wider war effort in the region, and predicted that another 268,239 people would have to be evacuated. And 128,000 tons of food valued at $298 million would be needed. The Ethiopian government presented these scenarios to the resident international donors to test the waters. If the second scenario were to become a reality -- if Ethiopia were to expand its efforts against its Eritrean foes -- could it count on the "big three" donors, which included USAID, World Food Program, and the European Union, to come through with aid, so that Ethiopian government money could be used for weapons rather than to feed its own citizens? The big three dutifully guaranteed that they would help out and food aid was increased to include those Ethiopians displaced by military actions. Thus, in the name of humanitarian aid, the path of the war was set. In war situations, international food aid delivery is usually closely monitored since donors do not want to be accused of feeding the war machine. But in this case, the Ethiopian government demanded control. It required that all food be handled through its own agency, the Disaster Prevention and Preparedness Commission, a leftover from previous droughts. The International Committee of the Red Cross, which had a long and principled of delivering assistance in conflict situations, refused to go along with the plan, saying that large amounts of food were being diverted to feed the soldiers. ICRC would only deliver food if the shipments' final destination could be monitored. However, the "big three" acquiesced and allowed the international community to assume responsibility for the survival of Ethiopian citizens displaced by their government's war efforts, even as aid workers expressed fears that food would be diverted to feed the soldiers, as had happened before. At the same time, human rights organizations were condemning Ethiopia's treatment and deportation of people of Eritrean descent who held Ethiopian passports. More than 25 such UN staffers with Ethiopian passports were deported. The UN resident coordinator kept a low profile, not wanting to antagonize Prime Minister Meles Zenawi's government. Mary Robinson, the UN high commissioner for human rights did speak up -- and was privately criticized by many in the international community for not understanding the local situation. The same week in December 1998, the diplomatic corps attended a staged ceremony commemorating the 50th anniversary of the UN Declaration on Human Rights in which the Ethiopian government pledged continued support for the promotion and protection of human rights. How do the US government and international organizations justify food aid in such a context? Did not their pledges of food aid promote war? Did not their actions encourage the Ethiopian government to expand the war? Asked these questions at the time, a USAID official explained the unquestioning support for Ethiopia this way: "These are the good guys." Indeed, the United States viewed Ethiopia as holding the front line against Islamic fundamentalism in the region, sandwiched strategically as it is between Sudan and Somalia. Zenawi was being courted by the United States and the broader international community. They were afraid of losing him. So they remained silent and compliant. Regardless of human rights violations, a war against Eritrea, in the view of the United States, could be tolerated. That war has now killed an estimated 80,000 people. Ethiopia has spent $480 million on its military effort, money freed up by food aid from the outside. With last week's offensive, there is a new bustle of diplomacy, an attempt to see what went wrong. Was US policy too soft? Could we have known then? How can the deadly conflict be ended before tens of thousands more Ethiopians and Eritreans needlessly die? These questions are two years too late for the tens of thousands who have already died. Sam Barnes is a Bunting fellow at the Radcliffe Institute
for Advanced Study. For the past decade she has worked for the
United Nations in various African countries, including Ethiopia. |