A Rapid-Reaction Force in Search of an Emergency

Liberal internationalists are worried. During the presidential campaign, George W. Bush called for curtailing the U.S. role in humanitarian interventions around the globe. Condoleezza Rice, his national security advisor, even suggested that the U.S. might withdraw its peacekeeping troops from the Balkans. And once Bush’s foreign-policy team--Rice at the National Security Council, Colin L. Powell at the State Department and Donald H. Rumsfeld at the Pentagon--settles into their new jobs, the new administration’s realist bent will become more evident.

So, are humanitarian interventions relegated to the dustbin, at least for the next four years? Not necessarily. They just might be coordinated from Brussels, rather than Washington, and involve European, rather than American, troops.

Last month in Nice, France, the European Union launched plans for its own 60,000-troop rapid-reaction force. Scheduled for deployment in 2003, it will draw on a pool of 100,000 troops, 400 aircraft and 100 ships made available by EU members. These countries will have to boost their defense spending, now totaling $200 billion a year--compared with $310 billion for the U.S.--to cover huge deficiencies in satellite intelligence-gathering, long-range air transport and reconnaissance aircraft. If all goes well, it could represent a big step toward EU defense autonomy.

But there was also bitter wrangling over the rapid-reaction force’s relationship with the North Atlantic Treaty Organization. France, which has long had a troubled relationship with the alliance, called for an independent force that could counterbalance NATO and the U.S. “hyper-power.” Britain and other EU states quashed that idea, pushing instead for a compromise that leaves the rapid-reaction force dependent on NATO for its command structure, planning, assets and intelligence capabilities. Washington, furthermore, can veto any use of the EU force’s assets, and the force can get involved only in conflicts that NATO rejects. Finally, NATO will still manage collective security.

Still, what would an EU rapid-reaction force be used for if NATO--read: the U.S.--shunned involvement?

The Nice summit cited tasks that the EU outlined in St. Petersburg in 1992: humanitarian and rescue missions, peacekeeping and crisis management. But these tasks are so open-ended that they could apply to any conflict, anywhere.

An obvious priority for an EU force is the Balkans. Europe already contributes the bulk of the troops in the region, as well as most of the financial aid for reconstruction. Yet, Europe is mindful of the incoming Bush administration’s dislike of humanitarian intervention. While an abrupt U.S. withdrawal from the region is unlikely, Europeans are becoming more skeptical about America’s long-term commitment.

Aside from the Balkans, little on the EU periphery demands immediate peacekeeping attention. In Eastern Europe, nations that either have joined NATO or wish to join have largely settled their potentially explosive ethnic divisions. Clashes could erupt in the Baltic states over treatment of the Russian minority there, but the chance of outright violence is low, thanks to the possible carrot of future EU membership and the stick of interference by Moscow.

The serious problems lie east of the EU’s borders, especially in the Caucasus and Central Asia. Georgia was wracked with civil war in the early 1990s. Armenia and Azerbaijan remain at loggerheads over Nagorno-Karabakh, a disputed enclave that legally belongs to Azerbaijan but is controlled by Armenia. Tajikistan has been recovering from its own civil war and now faces incursions by Islamic rebels from Kyrgyzstan and Uzbekistan.

In these cases, an EU peacekeeping mission might be theoretically more palatable to Russia than a NATO one. But getting involved in Russia’s backyard poses problems. Russia is already playing regional cop in the Caucasus--it has peacekeepers in Abkhazia and South Ossetia, two breakaway provinces of Georgia--and still has bases in Armenia. Furthermore, the EU lacks commercial interests strong enough to justify robust intervention in the region. In any case, Russia would affirm its own peacekeeping role in the event of an emergency, and its cooperation would be necessary to guarantee a cease-fire.

Africa is another option, given its colonial ties, numerous conflicts and proximity to Europe. Last year, Britain intervened on the continent to bolster the United Nations peacekeeping force in Sierra Leone. But if the Europeans decide upon an African intervention, they would probably do so in concert with other U.N. members. The U.N. currently favors a “regional” approach: Local powers take up peacekeeping under the U.N. umbrella. The British and Nigerian forces in Sierra Leone, and the Australian role in East Timor, are examples. Although the record remains mixed, regional intervention could be a harbinger of future U.N. operations.

Yet, the EU has shied away from explicitly mentioning any scenario that would lead to the deployment of its rapid-reaction force. This is not just because of the inherent controversy of any intervention, but because recent history and national interests are largely driving Europe’s push for defense autonomy. For years, Brussels has mulled an independent defense identity, and the embarrassing gap between U.S. and European capabilities during the Kosovo conflict made the matter more urgent. Europe still remembers how U.S. squeamishness over using U.S ground troops provoked severe divisions during the Balkan crises.

Britain also has its own designs. Prime Minister Tony Blair sees an EU force as a way to tie Britain closer to the continent while keeping the U.S. alliance solid.

In short, domestic and geopolitical motives, rather than a desire to intervene in the world’s trouble spots. The rapid-reaction force remains a tall order. But that shouldn’t stop the EU from pondering out-of-area operations, especially when the U.S. balks at sending troops, for three reasons.

First, as long as refugees from turbulent regions such as Central Asia or Africa head toward Europe, Brussels has a strong interest in trying to manage post-Cold War turmoil. Along with diplomatic and economic incentives, a well-executed European peacekeeping role could help reduce the suffering prompting these migratory flows.

Second, Europe might be better suited than the United States to tackle multilateral peacekeeping operations. Washington may lose some of its influence and friends if the Bush administration goes its own way on such touchy issues as a national missile defense, the test-ban treaty and the international criminal court, to name a few. Europe has a much healthier relationship with the United Nations, in particular, and with international institutions, in general. That advantage could help enormously in working with the U.N. on an Africa mission, for example.

Finally, Europe should remember that the Balkan crises demonstrated the tragic consequences of being unprepared. It took years for the West to decide on action, because no statesman had thought seriously about post-Cold War ethnic conflict. Even after the Bosnian war, NATO expanded eastward, rather than biting the bullet on the Kosovo question. Instead of looking the other way again, Europe needs to map out the contingencies its rapid-reaction force could be used for to ensure that it avoids the mistakes of the past.