People often say history repeats itself. They assert this with a confidence that only comes with the benefit of hindsight. They also often talk about how one can, and ought, to learn from the so-called lessons of history. But, as E.H.Carr, author of What is History?, observed, “no lessons…can be learned from history because history, unlike science, cannot predict the future.” In my opinion, there are only facts and certain parallels one can draw from particular events. Congo in 1960 and Rwanda in 1994 are no exception.

In this paper, I intend to compare and contrast the roles of the late UN Secretary-General, Dag Hammarskjold, and that of former Secretary-General Boutros-Ghali’s role in two African countries – respectively the Congo and Rwanda. It is a given that a necessary analysis of the structure of the international system in these two periods is highly necessary. As outlined in my previous paper, I cannot comprehensively compare the two incidents without mentioning – and briefly showing the significance of – previous crises that involved and affected the United Nations in both periods. In the 1960s, it would be how Hammarskjold was able to bring diplomatic pressure to bear on the Suez Crisis of 1956, whereas in the 1990s, it would be a brief significance of the Bosnian War. I feel to simply broach the subject of their respective roles, as well as the problems and constraints that they had to deal with, would be disregarding their capabilities, or what they had previously achieved.

This is not to say that Hammarskjold was a saint, or Boutros-Ghali was an incompetent UN bureaucrat; rather, I wish to illustrate how (very) easy and possible it would have been for him to have acted in – and beyond – the scope of Articles 98 and 99. My constant attachment to the idea that Boutros-Ghali did not even attempt to emulate any of the former secretaries-general (not necessarily Hammarskjold) may appear simplistic within the thesis of the paper. It may also give the impression that this apparent dig at the former Secretary-General is an indication of his ‘culpability’ in the manner in which he stalled over action towards Rwanda. Rather, what I intend to argue is that Hammarskjold acted the way he did, not only because he was ostensibly more dedicated to the preservation of peace, but in spite of the nature of the Cold War. Conversely, Boutros-Ghali failed to decisively act despite more openness and transparency in the international system as a result of the breaking down of the Berlin Wall in 1989.

One of the advantages of working on the Congo crisis is that there are countless sources on this issue. Brian Urquhart’s book chronicling the life of Hammarskjold provides a telling insight into the life of the late Secretary-General. On the other hand, finding sources for the genocide in Rwanda is relatively problematic because of the quite recent nature. I think to be fair, it is quite difficult generally to fairly compare and contrast the Congo with Rwanda, because with respect to the former, over two decades have elapsed since the conflict, and therefore, there has been a slew of information regarding the analyses of the crisis.

That said, there are a number of reliable sources regarding the crisis in Rwanda. The books that I have obtained have ranged from articles to Security Council resolutions. I also have a copy of the December 1994 edition of the UN Chronicle, the quarterly magazine ion that I have found an interesting article that provides an insight into Boutros-Ghali’s role in Rwanda.

Nevertheless, new evidence is constantly emerging, since it is only five years last April since the genocide. What I found lacking – and I think not inevitable – was a critical analysis of Boutros-Ghali’s role. There is, however, a definitive 800-page inquiry on the genocide on the Internet, by Alison Des Forges (http://www.hrw.org) who has done extensive work on the matter in question. I believe it to be reliable as she has also been called to give evidence on the Belgian Commission into the killing of the ten Belgian soldiers. My apparent indictment of Boutros-Ghali in fact stems from this report. But there are others too: a Panorama video, which I taped, on the genocide in question also provides a harrowing insight into how the West failed Rwanda. Four main protagonists are singled out Belgium, France, United States and the United Nations.

The Nature of the International System

The world of the 195os and ‘60s was a dangerous and potentially volatile one. It was dangerous because the United Nations was only fifteen years old, yet it was consistently being stymied by the great powers on the Security Council. The lessons of the league seemed to have fallen on deaf ears as far as these statesmen were concerned, leaving them unaffected and detached. Instead, the Security Council became a forum for bickering among the countries that had the power to make, or break, the emerging states. Moreover, it was volatile because any crisis could degenerate into something much more potentially serious --one that could urgently require the attention of the world's ultimate peacemaker -- the United Nations Secretary-General.

Who, or what, is the U.N. Secretary-General?

Technically speaking, the UN Secretary-General is an office. However, the person elected to exercise this function is, and ought to be, anything but the stool of the great powers on the Security Council. Rather, as indicated in articles 97-99, he is "chief administrative officer of the organization" , entrusted with the responsible and daunting task to "bring any matters that ...threaten the maintenance of international peace and security."

Perhaps, of utmost importance is the Secretary-General himself as a personality and head of the organization. He is considered to be chief administrator who, with his clique of under-secretary-general's and close advisors, direct policies that help promulgate the voices of smaller states. As head of the Secretariat, the Secretary-general dominates the internal administrative functions of the United Nations and profits to some extent from the information and consultations arising from routine functions.

These co-called 'routine functions' which Gordenker calls them, range from acting concomitantly, or in tandem with, the Security Council to writing an annual report -- destined for the General Assembly -- on the work of the United Nations. The report in question is also a way of "making known his {the Secretary-General's} views and proposing general or specific courses of action."

In general, the UN Secretary-General's role appears to be predominantly an administrative one. That he has to make annual reports to the General Assembly; take initiative in bringing matters to the attention of {UN} organs ; as well as, on occasion, bow down to pressure from the Great Powers on the Security Council, may give one the impression that he is merely another faceless, incompetent technocrat, even a "headless bureaucrat" . One may arrive at this conclusion because of the way he is often compelled to succumb to the whims and caprices of the powers, without whom, he would not have been elected. However, as Dag Hammarskjold came to realize, it is one thing to be elected, and totally another to tow the line of those who elected you.

That said, it would probably be too simplistic to contend that the Secretary-General is powerless to do anything; this simply is not the case. Even, Sydney D.Bailey , writing three years after Hammarskjold’s demise in 1961, argues that “it was always intended that the Secretary-General should be more than an administrator.” He continues that this was made “explicit in the Charter.” He subsequently enumerates the Secretary-General’s “responsibilities…according to constitutional origin” :

a. responsibilities arising from his position as chief administrative officer of the Organization and Secretary-General of the General Assembly and the three Councils.
b. Such responsibilities as are entrusted to him by the above organs;
c. Responsibilities arising from Article 99 of the Charter.

What is his formal role as exemplified by the Charter?

Article 98 of the United Nations charter adds that the Secretary-general “shall perform such other functions as are entrusted to him” by the UN organs. Article 99 states that the Secretary-general “may bring to the attention of the Security Council any matter which, in his opinion, may threaten the maintenance of international peace and security.”

As head of the organization, the Secretary-General’s raison d’etre is exemplified by the three articles in question. To an extent, is through these articles that he becomes “guardian of the peace” , because it is he – and he alone – who possesses the unique right to directly liaise with the Security Council. He does this by raising their awareness of any “matter”, which he deems to pose a menace for international peace and security. This is what many of the authors I used in writing this paper refer to as a “special right”.

The Secretary-general’s “special right”

This “right” in question is also known as article 99. It confers prerogative to the Secretary-General to exercise his judgement rationally I matters of international politics, or world peace. Implicit, also, in this article is the belief that should the Secretary-General consider any situation which may adversely affect either politics or diplomacy, he should, or at least must be compelled to, invoke the article in order to obtain a response from the Security Council. Gordenker in fact writes “the article was designed precisely as an alternative to a complainant by a member government to the Security Council.” He goes on to argue that however, “article 99 exists primarily for use in a crrisis.”

In fact, never again since Hammarskjold has it been invoked. However, when done so, it has usually been a sign of “initiative, not the execution of a plan approved by another organ.” This invocation though, is not without conditions. Gordenker illustrates thus them thus.

First of all, the Secretary-General “must make a convincing case or present prima facie evidence that the matter to which he is calling attention has sufficient serious content to engage so solemn an organ as the Security Council.”

Secondly, the Secretary-General must be highly informed on the “matter” in question, most probably seeking information from an alternate United Nations body – “a field commission, for example, or from his own subordinates or from a member government.”

Furthermore, with the information at hand, he must “try to outweigh the several theoretical ramifications of seizing the Security Council of a particular matter.” This means that the Secretary-General must exercise discretion when choosing to raise an issue worthy of consideration.

Also, Gordenker advocates the protection of the prestige of the Secretary-General’s office if his interventions are to have any weight.” Gordenker in fact alludes to the idea that the office is, to an extent, a double-edged sword in the way that he has to try to mollify any potential diplomatic problems without stepping over the feet of the big powers. If he acts, the matter indeed must be important. Nor may he decline to act if peace is threatened, for to do so would be to fail in his duty and to lessen his influence. That said, article 99 does not come without its constraints, which Gordenker again highlights.

One of the most problematic is, as mentioned previously, moving in “such a way as not to arouse the enmity of any of the members and especially the great powers. To do so, would reduce the standing of his office and his range of possible or useful actions.” This was all the more acute especially since a positive response towards the invocation of article 99, was incumbent on the Security Council permanent member’s approval. However, Gordenker does provide the analysis that “a prudent and politically-minded Secretary-General might avoid invoking article 99 whenever possible, thus staying clear of responsibility for putting the Council into a deadlocked position; or else he might consult carefully with the members of the Council to get their reactions to the invocation of Article 99.”

This idea, advocated by Gordenker, is a palatable one, for ultimately, constant use of the article would seriously compromise the effectiveness and relevancy of the article; the Secretary-General might as well eschew its use altogether. What really matters however, is the extent to which article 99 potentially operate in the furtherance of peace. If one were to follow Gordenker’s line of thinking, then there seems to be a problem with the article in question.

For example, the Secretary-General ought to invoke the article only when he deems a particular incident worthy of the Security Council’s consideration. However, this same Secretary-General ought not to use it on a constant basis, for fear, or in the event, that its effectiveness be lost. Most distressing of all, is the idea that the Secretary-General ought to exercise discretion in his invocation of article 99, particularly when dealing with big powers. This may be a given, but it does raise serious implications.

For starters, it is my belief that the Secretary-general is only as good and effective, as he wants to be. I understand that there are certain constraints inherent in his position that he cannot help but follow. Furthermore, the fact that he must be neutral and not show partiality towards a state makes this office particularly problematic. In the end, I believe it all has to do with personality.

In the same way that we argued in class that people get the government they deserve, I also think that the states – “we the people of the UN” – ought to get the Secretary-General they deserve. If he, or she, lacks tact or creativity, then very little will be accomplished. Any person, who is designated for the post of Secretary-General, may come with all the expected diplomatic trimmings, but if he lacks initiative – a word very much used by Leon Gordenker with respect to article 99 – this will be translated throughout the operation of the organization.

I am not arguing here that the Secretary-General must work in such a way as to fly in the face of the authorities that elected him. However, a degree of independence of mind – as advocated by the late Dag Hammarskjold himself – ought, I feel, to be a necessary given for any head of an international secretariat, least of all the U.N. Secretary-General.

In fact, Hammarskjold expressed such ideas regarding articles 99 more explicitly in 1954: “the real significance is that this article does imply that the governments of the UN expect the Secretary-General to take the independent responsibility, irrespective of their attitude, to represent the detached element in the international life of the peoples…sometimes’, he continued, “he will have to voice the wishes of the peoples against this or that government.” Perhaps, this can be seen as a prescient indication of Hammarskjold’s plans to bring character and personality to the post. In fact, character he brought, and no where did he best exemplify this, as well as invoke the said article 99, than with the crisis in Congo in 1960.

The Congo

Most people, Stanley Meisler writes, suddenly found Africa on their minds when the newly independent Congo erupted in 1960. The late 1950s ushered in a new wave of changes throughout the African continent, with Ghana obtaining independence from Britain in 1957. And it was not only the Ghanaians who were trying to live without their former colonial masters. Congo was also trying to get rid of the Belgians who still wanted to play an important role in the country. In fact, the incipient crisis in Congo can be attributed to the Belgians whose presence exacerbated the potential unrest.

Furthermore, their involvement – first with the Belgian officer, Lieutenant-General Emile Janssens, the Force Publique Commander, arrogantly writing on the blackboard during an insurrection, “’before independence = after independence”, and later, Belgian mercenaries helping with the secession of the resource-rich province of Katanga.

However, efforts to keep the peace within the country were consistently stymied by the big powers on the Security Council whose interests would greatly be undermined if Communist-inclined Lumumba, the Prime Minister of the country, were to gain any power.

Alan James alludes to the idea that the United Nations was found wanting, due to the way in which its “scheme for the achievement of {peace and security} was found to lack substance.” He argues further that so polarized were the main power bases of the Security Council – particularly the Soviet Union and the United States – that the UN became “a political house divided against itself.” At least, “as a collective security arrangement”, he writes, “it could not stand.” This may have been the opinion held by Dag Hammarskjold , but at least, he was prepared to act – and one of his earlier actions was the Suez crisis of 1956.

Significance of 1956 Suez Crisis

What was significant about this crisis that involved Britain and France – two Security Council permanent members operating in a belligerent manner – was the fact that it saw, according to Paul Lewis , “the opening of a new, more assertive phase of UN peacekeeping, with the mounting of major operations in the Middle East, the Congo, and Cyprus.” Lewis continues that “what had started with small, unarmed observer missions was now evolving into much larger operations involving thousands of men to serve as buffers between contending forces, patrol boarders, maintain law and order, and manage day-to-day developments.”

Yet, peacekeeping – as this incipiently was – had in no way entered the parlance of international politics; it was even no where to be found in the UN Charter. Rather, its invention is credited to the former Canadian Prime Minister, Lester Pearson, and Secretary-General Hammarskjold.” It was to be referred to jokingly as “Chapter Six and a Half”. This meant that it fell between Chapter VI of the Charter, which calls for the peaceful resolution of disputes, and Chapter VIII, which empowers the Security Council to reverse aggression by calling on the armed forces of member states…

That the idea of sending in a UN force had been raised by then Secretary-General, at the very start of the crisis speaks volumes of his dedication to bring diplomatic closure to the crisis: “I believe that it is in keeping with the philosophy of the Charter that the Secretary-General should be expected to act also without such guidance, should this appear to him necessary in order to help in filling any vacuum that may appear in the systems which the Charter and traditional diplomacy provide for the safeguarding of peace and security.

Equally important to Hammarskjold was the idea that the United Nations act as forum, perhaps even a voice, for the voiceless: “I would rather say…I see the future of the Organization very much as one organ which primarily which serves the interests of smaller countries which otherwise would not have a platform in world affairs – these smaller countries… within the Organization intimately cooperating with the big powers.”

To Hammarskjold, this was particularly crucial given the divisive bipolar nature of the international system at the time. The Cold War had exacerbated ideological divisions and tensions to such an extent that not only was it sufficiently frustrating to have two superpowers engaging in a silent war of words, but to have had them on the Security Council ostensibly chin-wagging was a source of even greater consternation. All the more so especially since one of these countries – Russia – was publicly and privately endorsing the Communist-inclined Lumumba of Congo.

In fact, with the non-aligned countries, Hammarskjold felt a particular affinity, as well as with some like Canada – Lester Pearson’s home country – which he described as only marginally aligned. These countries, Dayal continues, which tried to judge issues on their merits and to keep clear of power blocs were perhaps closes t to the UN in spirit.” And it is in fact with this same spirit of peace and optimism that Hammarskjold acted in the Congo when President Joseph Kasavubu, and Prime Minister Lumumba, sent two urgent appeals for help to the UN, respectively on July 12 and July 13 1960.

Hammarskjold as Peacemaker

Two days later, the Security Council called into special session by Hammarskjold, approved his request to send a UN peacekeeping force to the Congo to replace Belgian troops there and restore order. The UN soldiers flew into the Congo a day after the Security Council resolution.

The speed with which the UN, under Hammarskjold, had acted was astonishing. The UN had proved that if only there could be agreement among its members, it was capable of very rapid action indeed. Subsequently, Belgian paratroops were withdrawn.

What was equally significant about this situation was Hammarskjold’s role. For the first time in the history of the UN, the Secretary-general had invoked article 99 – explicitly and deliberately. Although the two cablegrams to the Secretary-General were addressed only to him, no where in it was he required, exhorted, or even compelled, to invoke the article in question. As Gordenker argues, “he might simply have circulated them to the members of the Security Council.” But he did not. In effect, Hammarskjold rejected all of these possible approaches in favour of direct initiative on his own responsibility.