A Battlefield TransformedThe United Nations and the Struggle over Postcolonial Statehood
A Battlefield TransformedThe United Nations and the Struggle over Postcolonial Statehood
Abstract and Keywords
As much as the United Nations (UN) provided an institutional context for decolonization, decolonization itself effected a profound transformation in the legal structures and powers of the UN. This chapter argues that that transformation was understood as necessary for the construction of modern states in the decolonized world—but that the meaning and expression of modern statehood was intensely contested throughout the period of decolonization. The chapter traces a series of interconnected struggles in the early UN over the form and functions of the nation-state, each of which resulted in innovations in the institutional framework and powers of the UN. In particular, it focuses on three axes of struggle, over the meaning of self-government, the values and practices of modern government, and the import of sovereign equality.
The battle over international law extended to the institutional context within which that law was increasingly formed. As much as the United Nations (UN) provided an arena for the promotion and contestation of decolonization, decolonization itself effected a profound transformation in the legal structures and powers of the UN. This chapter traces a series of interconnected battles or struggles in the early UN, each of which resulted in innovations in the institutional framework and powers of the UN that had immediate implications for decolonization. In particular, the chapter focuses on three axes of struggle, in relation to the meaning of self-government, the values and practices of modern government, and the import of sovereign equality.1
The battle over the UN began even before its creation. Planning for the UN was dominated by ‘great power’ interests, and its Charter strongly reflected those interests, most notoriously in the structure of the Security Council and the veto wielded by its five permanent members. Nevertheless, contestation by smaller states during the negotiation process resulted in the introduction of a number of tensions, ambiguities, and antinomies into the text of the Charter, which were subsequently exploited by countries seeking to promote decolonization. Moreover, even before the Charter had been ratified by a majority of its signatories, a succession of world events—most notably the deepening Cold War conflict between West and East—made it unlikely that many of its key provisions would be implemented as originally foreseen.
Almost immediately after the UN’s creation, then, the institutional framework of the organization began to change under the influence—and in service—of decolonization. The first axis of struggle, examined in Section II of this chapter, (p.258) concerned the meaning of sovereign equality in relation to the makeup and procedures of the Security Council.2 Section III analyses the struggles that led to an elaboration of the machinery for promoting self-government in colonized territories. The third axis of struggle, considered in Section IV, arose out of efforts to universalize a model of government that was defined by a core set of social welfare values and techniques of economic intervention. In each case, the UN itself provided the institutional setting (the battlefield) and the normative resources (the weapons) for the struggle for decolonization.3
The image of a battle, around which this book is organized, might be understood as necessarily implying an outcome of destruction and negation. This chapter contends, however, that the battle over international law in the UN during the period of decolonization was profoundly creative and generative. Section V argues that the three axes of struggle noted above came together in the invention of a new institutional form, which has become the most visible ‘face’ of the UN today: the peacekeeping operation. Beginning with the UN Emergency Force in 1956, peacekeeping emerged as a complex technology for managing the end of European imperialism in an orderly fashion, for giving small states a more significant role in the peace and security functions of the UN and protecting their position vis-à-vis the ‘great powers’, and for the construction of modern states on a broadly Western model in the decolonized world. The tensions inherent between these diverse purposes became visible in the Congo operation of 1960–1964, which at once marked a point of consolidation of earlier institutional innovations, revealed the limits of each of the struggles underlying them, and established a new field of battle that remains in contestation today.
II. The battle over sovereign equality
Despite affirming ‘the principle of the sovereign equality of all its Members’,4 the UN Charter granted extraordinary rights to the leading Allied powers—the United States (US), the United Kingdom (UK), the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics (USSR), France, and China—who were designated permanent members of the Security Council, with primary responsibility for achieving the UN’s main purpose of ‘maintain[ing] international peace and security’.5 Much of the debate over the terms of the Charter had centred on the extent of the great powers’ (p.259) voting privileges, in particular, the veto power of these permanent members of the Security Council.6 Most controversial was the extension of that power to the process of amendment, which would hinder efforts to remove or attenuate the veto itself.7 Nevertheless, the final version of the Charter affirmed that any amendment to the Charter had to be passed by a two-thirds vote of the UN General Assembly (UNGA) and ratified by the same proportion of UN members, including all the permanent members of the Security Council.8
An initial axis of struggle in the UN during the period of decolonization thus concerned the veto and its relationship to the sovereign equality of states. Proposals to amend the Council’s voting procedures and abolish the veto, introduced by the Philippines and Cuba at the Assembly’s first session, were defeated.9 Outnumbered in both the Council and the UNGA,10 the USSR first exercised its veto power under Article 27(3) in February 1946; it did so again on more than twenty occasions in the UN’s first two years alone.11 Among other things, the veto was often used in the UN’s first decade to block the applications for membership by states that held opposing ideological views.12 In conditions of profound mutual suspicion between the US and USSR, moreover, every region of the globe seemed to be of crucial geopolitical interest to one or the other of the two superpowers. Accordingly, there was little chance of the Council intervening in a series of crises that erupted in the immediate aftermath of the Second World War.13
The USSR’s prolific use of the veto, and the failure of efforts to eliminate that power, prompted a number of innovations in the Security Council’s practice that appeared to contradict the express terms of the Charter. Article 27(3) required any decision on a non-procedural matter to be made by ‘an affirmative vote of seven members including the concurring votes of the permanent members’. On its face, this seemed to require all permanent members to be present and voting in favour of the decision. However, a practice quickly developed where a permanent member’s abstention was not treated as a veto. By 1947, the sitting president of the Council was able to affirm that it was ‘now jurisprudence in the Security Council—and the interpretation accepted for a long time—that an abstention is not considered a (p.260) veto, and the concurrent votes of the permanent members mean the votes of the permanent members who participate in the voting’.14
This interpretation was soon extended to cover occasions when a member—even a permanent member—was absent from the Security Council.15 From January to August 1950, the USSR boycotted the Council in protest against the presence of a representative from non-communist China. During this period, without the threat of the Soviet veto, the Council was able to pass resolutions condemning the North Korean invasion of South Korea and recommending that member states provide military assistance to the latter, thus authorizing the most dramatic action taken by the UN during its first decade: armed intervention by a UN force under the command of the US Army General Douglas MacArthur.16
The Korean action aside, the Security Council’s relative inactivity encouraged other UN organs to take more responsibility for the maintenance of international peace and security. The first Secretary-General, Trygve Lie (1896–1968), made repeated efforts to expand that office’s political role, among other things attempting to defuse the Berlin blockade crisis, condemning North Korean aggression, proposing a standing UN guard force, and suggesting a twenty-year program to achieve world peace.17 Whereas Lie’s efforts are generally deemed to have failed, his replacement, Dag Hammarskjöld (1905–1961), was more successful, including in negotiating the release of US airmen who had been shot down during the Korean War and were being held in China on charges of espionage. As an early commentator noted, the ‘expanding nature’ of the Secretary-General’s political activities and the growth of influence he exercised was one of the more significant developments within the UN since its inception.18
The UNGA similarly assumed authority to take action directly where the Security Council was prevented from doing so.19 In October 1950, the Assembly passed a resolution that authorized the UN forces under MacArthur’s command to follow South Korean forces into the North.20 Encouraged by this success, the US Secretary of State, Dean Acheson, pursued a plan to enable the UNGA to circumvent the Security Council on a more regular basis. The ‘Acheson Plan’, later known as ‘Uniting for Peace’, addressed conditions where the Council was ‘unable (p.261) to exercise its primary responsibility for the maintenance of peace and security because of lack of unanimity of the permanent members’. In these circumstances, the resolution provided that the UNGA would have power to consider ‘any case where there appears to be a threat to the peace, breach of the peace, or act of aggression’. Most significantly, it allowed the Assembly to organize coercive action by ‘making appropriate recommendations to Members for collective measures . . . to maintain or restore international peace and security’. Moreover, it could do so in an emergency special session convened on twenty-four hours’ notice by a vote of any seven members of the Security Council or a majority of the members of the UN—in other words, over the objections of the Council’s permanent members.21
‘Uniting for Peace’ was carefully drafted to reflect the language of the Charter, giving the UNGA authority only to ‘recommend’ measures, not to ‘decide’ what measures shall be taken. Nevertheless, as Thomas Franck has argued, it was ‘certainly not the intent of the drafters at San Francisco’ that the Assembly would exercise even such limited authority in the face of a permanent member’s veto in the Council.22 Soviet bloc diplomats at the UN criticized the resolution as ‘an attempt to by-pass the Security Council, to usurp its constitutional powers and relegate it to a secondary position in the United Nations structure, in other words, a back-door way of amending the Charter’.23 Indeed, much of the UNGA debate on the draft resolution comprised efforts to attack or defend its ‘constitutionality’, interspersed with plainer statements of ideological and even personal antagonism by representatives of the Western and Soviet blocs.24
The innovation of ‘Uniting for Peace’ was directly relevant to the process of decolonization that was ongoing at the time. To many UN members, the expansion of the UNGA’s powers under the ‘Uniting for Peace’ resolution was justified, in both legal and moral terms, by the principle of sovereign equality among states. Emphasizing those members’ concern with the impasse created by conflict between the permanent members, the resolution’s Preamble referred to the Charter’s aim of developing ‘friendly relations among nations based on respect for the principle of equal rights and self-determination of peoples’.25 In the Assembly debate, several representatives situated the resolution within a longer sequence of struggle in the UN between great and small powers. The Peruvian delegation affirmed that (p.262) its ‘position in this matter was settled at the discussions at San Francisco’, where ‘[t]he small nations’ had demanded the ability to take action through the UNGA whenever the Security Council might be ‘paralysed’ through the veto.26 In a similar vein, the Cuban representative stated: ‘We have never shared—neither before San Francisco, nor at San Francisco, nor since San Francisco—the opinion that only the great Powers have the right to act in questions involving international peace and security.’ Interpreting Article 27 as imposing a duty on the great powers to maintain international peace and security through agreement among the permanent members, rather than an unfettered right to veto the decisions of the Council,27 he further asserted: ‘[W]e must bear in mind that the [UN] is founded on the principle of the sovereign equality of all its Members. This is a world organization of States with equal rights’.28 Uruguay’s representative underscored the resolution’s significance in redressing the problem of inequality between states:29
Hitherto the maintenance of collective security has been the affair of the great Powers, which arrogated to themselves the function of preserving peace in the Holy Alliance, in the Concert of Europe, in the Council of the League of Nations—as permanent members, in the Security Council . . . Now, however, the smaller Powers are called upon to contribute, at the international level, to the maintenance of collective security.
Despite its origins in US Cold War strategy, then, the ‘Uniting for Peace’ resolution provided an opening for small and newly-independent states to assert a greater role for themselves in international affairs. One of the principle aims of these new states was the further promotion of decolonization.
III. The battle over self-government
A second axis of struggle in the early UN concerned the question of self-government by colonized peoples, central to the process of decolonization. The Charter affirmed the ‘equal rights and self-determination of peoples’, and provided mechanisms to realize that principle.30 Chapters XII and XIII established an international trusteeship system, largely as a successor to the League of Nations’ mandate system, to be administered and supervised by a Trusteeship Council under (p.263) the authority of the UNGA, with the explicit objective of promoting the ‘progressive advancement’ of the inhabitants of trust territories ‘towards self-government or independence’.31 In addition, Chapter XI comprised a ‘Declaration Regarding Non-Self-Governing Territories’ concerning those UN members that had responsibility for ‘the administration of territories whose peoples have not yet attained a full measure of self-government’. Falling short of referring to the possibility of independence for the peoples concerned, Chapter XI committed administering powers to ensuring their just treatment, to developing ‘self-government’, and assisting them in the ‘progressive development of their free political institutions, according to the particular circumstances of each territory and its peoples and their varying stages of advancement’, and to promoting ‘constructive measures of development’ in trust territories.32
These Charter provisions took on greater significance as the worldwide movement toward decolonization, which had gained impetus during the war, accelerated thereafter. Formerly colonized states already comprised a sizable majority of the UN’s founding members in 1945, and a steady trickle of Asian colonies achieved political independence in the immediate post-war years. Not all of these new states joined the UN immediately, but by the end of 1955 the organization’s membership had grown from fifty-one at its founding to seventy-six. Moreover, the eagerness of these new states to promote decolonization elsewhere was supported, in rhetoric if not always in action, by the two great superpowers of the day.33
Chapter XI of the Charter turned out to be crucial in promoting decolonization. The result of strenuous efforts by African and Asian states at San Francisco to create a ‘strong system of international supervision over colonial administrations’,34 Chapter XI required administering powers to collect statistical and other technical information regarding the territories for which they were responsible, and to transmit that information to the Secretary-General on a regular basis.35 A plain reading of the Charter might have suggested that the principal organs for dealing with decolonization were to be the Trusteeship Council and the Security Council.36 Yet, many more people lived in non-self-governing territories than in trust territories, and the preponderance of smaller, non-colonial powers and previously colonized states in the UNGA made that organ a more natural site for assembling support for anti-colonial resolutions.37
(p.264) Indeed, the practice that built up on the basis of Chapter XI proved far more innovative than any comparable practice under Chapters XII and XIII. In December 1946, the Assembly set a date by which each of the colonial powers were to meet their obligations to transmit information to the Secretary-General, and recommended that the latter summarize, analyse, and classify that information, share it with the UN’s specialized agencies, and convene an ad hoc Information Committee to advise the Assembly on steps to be taken.38 Several administering powers disputed the Information Committee’s constitutionality, and strongly resisted its creation.39 The Belgian government, in particular, developed a forceful argument (the so-called ‘salt-water thesis’) that the application of Chapter XI solely to overseas colonies and protectorates was discriminatory and erroneous; rather, its provisions properly applied to ‘backward ethnic groups’ everywhere, including ‘primitive’ racial, linguistic, and religious minorities located within African, Asian, and Latin American states.40 Nevertheless, the committee gradually acquired ‘new powers of examination of both the functioning and the basis of the colonial system’.41
These developments at once drew upon and reinforced the UN Secretariat’s expert authority. In practice, the Secretariat took responsibility for the day-to-day administration of issues raised by the Information Committee, and became a regular source of technical advice to many delegates.42 As the Committee’s work advanced, it frequently requested the Secretariat to prepare specialized papers on problems under consideration. Forming technical sub-committees to prepare reports on a variety of matters, the Committee invited representatives of several specialized agencies to participate in its meetings and submit special studies on topics in their areas of expertise.43 These expansions of powers exercised by UN organs and agencies were understood to be justified by the goal of promoting self-government in colonial territories. Moreover, self-government increasingly meant political independence. To countries in the Asian-African bloc, it seemed obvious that the purpose of Chapter XI was to transform colonies into independent states. But for European metropolitan powers, the question of when a territory became self-governing—whether at the point of independence or earlier—was a matter of (p.265) domestic jurisdiction shielded from intervention by any UN organ under Article 2(7) of the Charter.44
Consequently, the Information Committee became a site of ongoing struggle over how to determine whether a territory was non-self-governing, and therefore subject to the reporting obligations prescribed in Chapter XI.45 Indeed, the exercise of defining the qualifications for self-government proved awkward. On the one hand, setting the bar too low meant that many territories would escape the Committee’s scrutiny. On the other hand, standards such as ‘complete freedom of the people of the territory to choose the form of government which they desire’, freedom from interference by other governments in a territory’s internal affairs, and ‘complete autonomy in respect of economic, social and cultural affairs’ seemed to set the bar too high even for many recognized sovereign states, and might result in colonies never meeting the conditions for independence.46 That struggle continued in a series of debates and landmark resolutions by the UNGA, including the landmark ‘Declaration on the Granting of Independence to Colonial Countries and Peoples’,47 and thereafter through the work of the ‘Committee of 24’ (Special Committee on Decolonization), which remains active today.
IV. The battle over development
The third axis of struggle in the UN system during the period of decolonization emerged from efforts to universalize a model of government shaped by the lessons of Keynesian economic theory and New Deal experimentalism.48 The UN Charter’s Preamble affirmed ‘faith in fundamental human rights’, the goal of ‘social progress and better standards of life in larger freedom’, and ‘the promotion of the economic and social advancement of all peoples’. More specifically, Chapter IX committed the UN to promote human rights and social and economic development, and provided for a range of specialized agencies to be brought into relationship with the organization to meet those ends.49 In addition, Chapter X created an Economic and Social Council (ECOSOC) with powers to coordinate the work of the specialized agencies;50 to study issues relating to ‘international economic, social, cultural, (p.266) educational, health, and related matters’; and to make recommendations concerning any such matters to the UNGA and relevant specialized agencies.51
These values informed the emerging science of development economics, which took decolonized states as its primary objects. As a leading UN economist of the time put it, there was a strong assumption that ‘the same principles of planning, macroeconomic management of the economy by governments and mobilization of latent resources based on Keynesian principles, were also applicable to the problems of developing countries’.52 Moreover, concern for universal, state-guaranteed social welfare took on an increasingly tangible institutional form during the UN’s first decade. In December 1948, the UNGA passed two landmark resolutions that prepared the ground for a much-expanded approach to international technical assistance for economic development. The first called upon ECOSOC and the specialized agencies to ‘give further and urgent consideration to the whole problem of the economic development of under-developed countries in all its aspects’, while the second appropriated funds to enable the Secretary-General to provide technical assistance to governments in connection with their economic development programs.53 That same month saw the enactment of two foundational human rights instruments, the Genocide Convention and the Universal Declaration of Human Rights.54
Within the next couple of years, the UNGA had established an Expanded Program of Technical Assistance (EPTA), comprising the UN and seven specialized agencies, and a Technical Assistance Board (TAB) to coordinate their work.55 That program extended to ‘non-self-governing territories’ also: the competence of the Information Committee that had been formed to ensure compliance with Chapter XI was extended to deal with issues of equal treatment in education, eradication of illiteracy, and technical assistance, and the Committee demanded increasingly detailed reports from administering powers on a growing list of topics, including questions of social policy, labour legislation, social security, housing, education, public health, human rights, and racial discrimination.56
The new states’ drive to achieve economic decolonization inspired the UNGA’s designation of the 1960s as the UN Development Decade,57 as well as a proliferation (p.267) of new development-oriented organizations, agencies, programmes, and funds. Some of these were independent of the UN, such as the African Development Bank (established in 1964) and the Asian Development Bank (1966). Others were more or less autonomous specialized agencies, such as the International Bank for Reconstruction and Development and International Development Association (together, the World Bank). But many were part of the UN family, including the UN Special Fund (1958), the World Food Program (1963), UN Conference on Trade and Development (1964), the UN Institute for Training and Research (1965), the UN Development Program (1965, merging the EPTA with the Special Fund), the UN Industrial Development Organization (1966), the UN Capital Development Fund (1966), and the UN Fund for Population Activities (1969).58
To many in the West, technical assistance was deeply connected to the UN’s primary purpose of maintaining international peace and security. In the first of its 1948 resolutions on economic development, the UNGA noted that ‘the low standards of living existing in Member States’ had ‘bad economic and social effects in the countries directly concerned and on the world as a whole’, and created ‘conditions of instability’ that were ‘prejudicial to the maintenance of peaceful and friendly relations among nations and to the development of conditions of economic and social progress’.59 In his inauguration speech in January 1949, US President Harry Truman proposed a worldwide programme of development through technical assistance, and invited other countries to ‘pool their technological resources’ in ‘a cooperative enterprise in which all nations work together through the [UN] and its specialized agencies wherever practicable’.60 Here, too, Truman connected the goals of ‘peace, plenty, and freedom’, offering to make his country’s ‘imponderable resources in technical knowledge’ available to achieve ‘[g]reater production’ for the ‘peace-loving’ and ‘free peoples of the world’.61
For the UN, however, the principle of non-intervention in the domestic jurisdiction of states was crucially important.62 UN technical assistance took four main forms: advice on both general and specific economic development issues; training fellowships for experts from ‘under-developed’ countries; visits by outside experts to instruct technicians and help organize technical institutions in such countries; and assistance in obtaining technical personnel, equipment, supplies, and other services appropriate for the promotion of economic development, including information exchanges on particular technical problems.63 Technical assistance (p.268) was only to be provided to a government at its request, was to be of a kind determined by that government and designed to meet its needs, and was to be neither ‘a means of foreign economic and political interference in the internal affairs of the country concerned’ nor ‘accompanied by any considerations of a political nature’.64 Balancing the competing concerns for international security and non-intervention in domestic jurisdictions would prove very difficult, however, as became clear in the UN’s experience with peacekeeping.
V. A new field of battle? Peacekeeping and decolonization
This chapter has examined the intimate connections between institutional innovations in the early UN—sovereign equality, self-government, and welfare provision—and decolonization, including determination of the forms to be taken and roles to be played in the international system by decolonized states. This part of the chapter argues these innovations were merged in a new institutional form which aimed simultaneously at facilitating the process of decolonization, enhancing the role of small states in the UN’s peace and security functions, and constructing modern states on a broadly Western model. That new form—the peacekeeping operation—was the most significant innovation in the UN during its first two decades, with perhaps the most far-reaching implications for the process of decolonization at that time and since.65
The remainder of this chapter focuses on the two most important early peacekeeping operations. The organization had already accumulated some limited experience in the deployment of unarmed truce supervisors after the establishment of the UN Truce Supervision Organization (UNTSO) in 1948, and the formation of a UN Military Observer Group in India and Pakistan the following year. But the first armed UN peacekeeping operations were created in 1956 and 1960, in response to the Suez and Congo crises, respectively. It is highly significant that all of these operations involved situations arising out of decolonization at the end of European empires. Yet the invention of peacekeeping did not resolve the battle over international law within the UN. To the contrary, peacekeeping itself became a new terrain of battle for international, as the form, functions, and purposes of peacekeeping themselves became objects of contention and struggle.
The Suez crisis directly implicated two permanent members of the Security Council. It arose against the backdrop of a long history of European interventions in Egypt, public opinion that was increasingly hostile to the presence of British troops in the area of the Canal, growing antagonism between Egypt and Israel, and deteriorating relations between Egypt and the West. Following Egypt’s declaration as a republic after the ‘Free Officers’ military coup of July 1952, the new government signed heads of agreement under which all British troops would leave Egypt by June 1956. On 26 July 1956, the Egyptian leader, Gamal Abdel Nasser, announced that he would nationalize the Suez Canal Company. The situation was referred to the Secretary-General and Security Council, but before any settlement could be negotiated, Israel, France, and the UK secretly agreed to launch a concerted attack on Egypt. Israeli forces took offensive action against Egypt on 29 October. The next day France and the UK demanded that both Israel and Egypt cease hostilities and withdraw from the Canal. When Egypt failed to meet that ultimatum, British and French forces launched airstrikes against Egypt on 31 October.66
Against the opposition of the US government, France and the UK both used their veto power to block draft Council resolutions that called upon Israel to withdraw its armed forces. The matter was then transferred to an emergency special session of the UNGA —the first ever called under the ‘Uniting for Peace’ resolution67—which requested the Secretary-General to negotiate the implementation of the ceasefire and ‘obtain compliance of the withdrawal of forces behind the armistice lines’.68 While the Assembly was still in emergency session, Hammarskjöld produced two reports, prepared with the assistance of the Canadian representative to the UN Lester Pearson, which set out plans to establish an emergency force.69 Those plans were quickly approved,70 and, with a relatively small force, the UN Emergency Force (UNEF) remained in place along the border between Israel and Egypt until just prior to the Six-Day War in June 1967.
Debates in the UNGA regarding the crisis reflected concerns about both decolonization and the sovereign equality of UN members. In his opening statement, the Egyptian representative said that his country had been ‘subjected to bloody (p.270) aggression’, and that Israel, the UK, and France had ‘conspired together to commit this act of war’.71 Describing their actions as violations of the Constantinople Convention of 1888, which governed the use of the Suez Canal and gave Egypt the sole right to defend it,72 he complained: ‘We thought the Charter had put an end to the reign of force and that the era of the ultimatum and the diktat, of bitter memory, had vanished with the signing of the Charter at San Francisco.’73 In statements invoking their shared history of colonization, several other representatives likewise condemned the actions of the UK and France.74 Ceylon’s representative explicitly linked the argument against colonialism with the UN’s role in protecting the sovereignty of the new states:75
In the view of many responsible nations, the action of the United Kingdom and France is a continuation of the tradition of colonialism. . . . The nations of resurgent Asia and Africa are determined to exercise their sovereign rights in conformity with the principles of the United Nation Charter. It is naïve to assume that this process of change can be arrested by the crushing of a leader or of leaders. The spirit of Asia and Africa can never be crushed.
Speakers on both sides of the debate pointedly criticized the abuse by great powers of their responsibilities as permanent members of the Security Council. The UK representative claimed that his government had acted only because the USSR’s persistent ‘cynical misuse’ of its veto power, an ‘irresponsible exploitation of the privileges of a great Power’, had meant that ‘the world has not been able to rely on the [UN] for the collective security which the Organization was designed to provide’.76 However, several smaller states expressed outrage that, by taking military action against Egypt, two permanent members of the Council had seriously failed to meet their responsibilities to preserve international peace and security. Ecuador’s representative lamented that ‘two great nations . . . who gave us our civilization, and who have a moral obligation to continue that great tradition, should have been the ones to violate a sacred undertaking’. The actions of France and the UK were ‘doubly immoral’, he said, not only because the Charter had been violated, but also because ‘the violation has been committed by two great Powers, two Powers in which we have placed all our confidence as guarantors of world peace and security and which, for that very reason, enjoy the right of veto’.77
(p.271) UNEF thus provided an opportunity to advance both the goal of decolonization and the role of new states in the organization. The plans for UNEF reflected a desire to accommodate small states’ concerns about the direct involvement of European great powers in the crisis. Officers for the force were recruited from countries other than the permanent members of the Security Council.78 An advisory committee established by the UNGA to plan for the force was composed of representatives from small and medium-sized states: Brazil, Canada, Ceylon, Colombia, India, Norway, and Pakistan.79 Above all, the gathering of UN-led forces in the Sinai was powerfully symbolic of the organization’s commitment to protect its smaller and more vulnerable members against domination by would-be imperialist powers.80
B. Opération des Nations unies au Congo
The exceptionally brutal colonial history of the Congo—first as the ‘Congo Free State’ under the personal control of King Léopold and then later as a formal colonial territory of Belgium—is well known.81 After doing next to nothing to prepare the country for self-government, a series of riots in the capital in January 1959 and further disturbances throughout the year led the Belgian government to fast-track independence to 30 June 1960.82 Soon after that event, however, a series of mutinies broke out in the Congolese army, reports of violence prompted a mass flight of Belgians from the country, and the Belgian government deployed some 10,000 troops to the Congo to protect European residents and property. On 11 July, the province of Katanga declared independence with the support of Belgian troops stationed there. The following day, the Congo’s new President and Prime Minister, Joseph Kasavubu and Patrice Lumumba, cabled Dag Hammarskjöld to make a formal request for military assistance.83 The Secretary-General brought the situation to the Security Council’s attention and recommended the establishment of a force along similar lines to UNEF. On 14 July 1960, the Security Council authorized Hammarskjöld to provide the Congo with military assistance, and called on Belgium to withdraw its troops from the country.84 The first UN troops began to arrive the next day. By the end of July, the UN military force in the Congo had peaked at almost 20,000 troops.
(p.272) The mission of the Opération des Nations unies au Congo (ONUC) quickly became to support the process of decolonization and enforce the territorial integrity of the new state. Manoeuvring between several opposing political forces, and seeking to avert escalation of the Cold War in Africa, Hammarskjöld carefully avoided characterizing the situation in the Congo as illegal aggression, Belgian colonialism, or purely internal disorder. Instead, he reported to the Security Council that the difficulties that had developed in the Congo were ‘connected with the maintenance of order in the country and the protection of life’, and had ‘an important international bearing’ as they were ‘of a nature that cannot be disregarded by other countries’.85 Without quoting from the Kasavubu–Lumumba cables or citing the grounds upon which they requested assistance, he focused on the specific actions the UN would take, basing his proposals on the UNEF model in terms that would not raise the objections of either the Soviet or the African and Asian members of the Security Council. As a result, the Council’s resolution of 14 July 1960 simply called upon the government of Belgium ‘to withdraw its troops from the territory of the Republic of the Congo’ and authorized the Secretary-General:86
. . . to take the necessary steps, in consultation with the Government of the Congo, to provide the Government with such military assistance, as may be necessary, until, through the efforts of the Congolese Government with the technical assistance of the United Nations, the national security forces may be able, in the opinion of the Government, to meet fully their tasks . . .
The secessions declared in Katanga and elsewhere in the Congo provided opportunities for the UN political organs to affirm the unity and territorial integrity of the Congolese state. In a resolution passed early in the operation, the Security Council noted it had ‘recommended the admission of the Republic of the Congo to membership in the United Nations as a unit’, while authorizing the Secretary-General to ‘take all necessary action’ to effect the speedy withdrawal of Belgian troops. The resolution further requested all states ‘to refrain from any action . . . which might undermine the territorial integrity and the political independence of the Congo’.87 Finally, when it came to authorize the use of force against foreign military personnel and mercenaries in Katanga, the Council explicitly rejected the claim that Katanga was ‘a sovereign independent nation’, affirming its ‘full and firm support for the Central Government of the Congo’, and its ‘determination to assist that Government . . . to maintain . . . national integrity’.88 In enforcing these edicts, ONUC clearly demonstrated its support for a united Congo, maintained within (p.273) the same territorial boundaries as its colonial predecessor, under the authority of a single, central government.
In other material and symbolic ways, Hammarskjöld indicated his support for decolonization to the growing ‘Afro-Asian’ contingent in the UN. Expecting difficulties in the transition to independence, Hammarskjöld had asked Ralph Bunche (1904–71) to represent the UN at the Congo’s independence ceremonies, and to remain for some time afterwards to offer any assistance that might be required.89 An African-American who had served in the Roosevelt administration and who had worked to strengthen the UN machinery for decolonization in its earliest years, Bunche had mediated the armistice between Israel and the Arab states in 1947–1949, for which he had been awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1950, and was one of the most respected international figures of the time.90 After ONUC was established, Bunche became Hammarskjöld’s first Special Representative and Commander of the UN Force in the Congo; his presence alone would have clearly signalled the Secretary-General’s sympathy for an independent Congo. The appointment of an Indian diplomat, Rajeshwar Dayal (1909–1999), as Bunche’s successor, and of several Asian and African officials to Hammarskjöld’s closest circle of advisors, conveyed a similar message.91
Moreover, in determining the composition of the ONUC Force, Hammarskjöld arranged for assistance to come in the first instance from a ‘hard core’ of the Congo’s ‘sister African nations, as an act of African solidarity’.92 For the Secretary-General, this was primarily a means of framing the operation so as to exclude the big powers and keep the Cold War out of Africa. But he also knew that it would be agreeable to pan-Africanist leaders such as Ghana’s President Nkrumah, who wished to bolster the forces of nationalism in other African countries.93 The vast majority of troops for the Force were drawn from newly-independent states such as Ghana, Tunisia, Morocco, and Guinea.94
The Asian and African member states also played a crucial role at the height of the Congo crisis, after Lumumba and Kasavubu each announced the dismissal of the other. With the Security Council deadlocked, another emergency session of the (p.274) UNGA was convened under the ‘Uniting for Peace’ resolution.95 The Assembly’s resolution, sponsored by nine African and eight Asian members, appealed to all Congolese to seek resolution of their conflicts ‘with the assistance, as appropriate, of Asian and African representatives appointed by the Advisory Committee on the Congo, in consultation with the Secretary-General, for the purpose of conciliation’.96 Two weeks later in the UNGA, responding to Soviet criticism that he had taken sides against Lumumba, Hammarskjöld appealed directly to ‘[l]et the countries who have liberated themselves in the last fifteen years speak for themselves’:97
It is not the Soviet Union or, indeed, any other big Powers who need the United Nations for their protection; it is all the others. In this sense, the Organization is first of all their Organization, and I deeply believe in the wisdom with which they will be able to use it and guide it. I shall remain in my post during the term of my office as a servant of the Organization in the interests of all those other nations, as long as they wish me to do so.
To the African and Asian states in the UN, whose representatives enthusiastically applauded Hammarskjöld’s speech, his ability and willingness to stand up to powerful state interests alone provided sufficient justification for the exercise of UN peacekeeping powers.
Finally, ONUC differed from UNEF in the extent to which it incorporated civilian state-building efforts, particularly concerned with the provision of social welfare. The specialized agencies had had very limited involvement in the Congo before independence, but Lumumba’s and Kasavubu’s request for assistance provided the best opportunity yet for the UN to offer a comprehensive program of technical assistance to a single country.98 Under ONUC’s organizational umbrella, a corps of some 2,000 experts and technicians, together with funds, training programmes, and equipment provided assistance in myriad fields of administration and government: law- and constitution-making, civil administration, civilian policing, communications, education, finance, foreign trade, medical and public health services, agriculture, food distribution, civil engineering, and civil aviation.99 By the end of 1960, the International Telecommunications Union’s and World Health Organization’s programmes in the Congo were the most substantial administered (p.275) by either in any country, and remained so until 1966.100 Even in 1963, ONUC’s civilian operation was still ‘the largest programme of technical assistance for any one country in the history of the World Organization’,101 employing 1,431 full-time specialists at the end of the year.102
Hammarskjöld designed ONUC’s civilian operation as a single, coherent command structure, ultimately reporting to himself. In order to achieve the desired level of integration, he appointed a group of experts who would serve ‘on a level of higher administrative responsibility’ within government ministries. The group included consultants that could cover the fields of agriculture, communications, education, finance, foreign trade, health, instruction (national security forces), labour market, judiciary, natural resources and industry, and public administration.103 Each expert was appointed first as a ‘local representative’ of the relevant specialized agency, thereby remaining in ‘the proper relationship to his agency and under its authority’, and then as a member of the Consultative Group. Despite never receiving formal approval, the scheme effectively placed much of the Congo under UN administration and subordinated the activities of all specialized agencies to the overall authority of the Secretary-General.104 Placed in these senior roles, UN-appointed experts were able to act as ‘effectively heads of departments with immediate access to their Ministers and authorized to act in their absence’.105
It was perhaps unavoidable that many of the reform programmes conducted by the specialized agencies in the Congo would be burdened with assumptions, attitudes, and practices inherited from the colonial past. The immediate post-colonial circumstances of the operation also contributed to the deterioration of relations between Hammarskjöld and Lumumba, who disagreed over the interpretation of Security Council resolutions and actions taken by the Congolese Army to suppress secessionists.106 And there is considerable evidence that Hammarskjöld and other UN officials secretly sided with Kasavubu against Lumumba, whom they regarded as unstable and susceptible to Soviet influence, and were not above using their connections to US government officials to achieve ends that they believed were for the best for the people of the Congo.107 Under pressure of emergency conditions, those (p.276) ends also required taking decisions in the place of democratically elected leaders and Congolese officials.
This chapter has argued that decolonization transformed the UN during its first two decades, as that organization focused its attention on facilitating the passage to independence by a growing number of previously colonised states. It has shown how that transformation occurred as the result of a series of struggles, played out in and through the instrumentalities of the UN, and drawing upon its institutional and normative resources, resulted ultimately in the invention of the peacekeeping operation as a new institutional form.
Those struggles led to a set of ambiguous outcomes, especially as a consequence of the peacekeeping operation in the Congo. On the one hand, ONUC galvanized the efforts of the ‘Afro-Asian’ states to promote decolonization through the UN, provided opportunities for those states to play a more prominent role in the UN’s decision-making processes, and stimulated a further series of activities, particularly in the area of development. As Harold Jacobson observed, the Congo experience ‘brought the problems of that state, and by extension those of Africa . . . dramatically to the attention’ of international organizations, which were then forced to reconsider their activities on that continent.108 In December 1961, the UNGA launched the first Development Decade, and subsequent years saw the creation of an array of new agencies, funds, and programmes focused on development, as we have seen.
On the other hand, ONUC highlighted the possibility of decolonization being subverted, exposed fissures in the non-aligned movement, and revealed the limits of the modernizing, welfare-oriented project of state building in the global South. In the course of the Congo crisis, a split emerged between those states that favoured a moderate approach and supported the work of the UN (the ‘Brazzaville group’) and those that advocated a more radical stance (the ‘Casablanca group’), with an overall ‘deflationary effect’ on efforts toward African unity.109 The Congo crisis also marked a pivot in the Soviet Union’s policy towards Africa, a loss of confidence in the utility of the ‘socialist model of development’ in promoting Soviet influence in the decolonized world, and a turn towards more militarized modes of engagement in the Cold War.110 And it coincided with a shift in Western development thinking (p.277) towards greater concern with the maintenance of political order and tolerance toward counter-revolutionary, authoritarian forms of government in the decolonized world.111
Since the period of decolonization, peacekeeping and the symbolism of the ‘blue helmets’ have become intimately inseparable from the public image of the UN. Moreover, UN peace operations have expanded dramatically both in number and in scope, particularly in Africa, since the late 1980s. Peace operations today are engaged in a wide range of complex tasks, including state-building, judicial reform, social and economic development, human rights monitoring, security sector reform, and disarmament. After being considered for years a mere ‘artefact of African and global circumstances that belonged essentially to the early 1960s’, ONUC is now regarded as ‘in many respects a prototype for future UN interventions in sub-Saharan Africa’.112 In this sense, the battles within the UN which gave birth to peacekeeping during the period of decolonization remain at the conflicted heart of that endeavour.
(1) This chapter draws on research conducted for Guy Fiti Sinclair, To Reform the World: International Organizations and the Making of Modern States (OUP 2017). Thanks to the organizers and participants in the authors’ workshop, ‘The Battle for International Law in the Decolonization Era’.
(2) General Assembly (GA) Res 377 (V) (3 November 1950).
(3) This chapter focuses on the contributions of the UN’s political and administrative organs during the period of decolonization. For consideration of the activities of the UN’s principal judicial organ in the same period, see chapter [X].
(4) UN Charter, art 2(1).
(5) UN Charter, art 1(1).
(6) Evan Luard, A History of the United Nations, vol 1 (Macmillan 1982) 44–51 (hereafter Luard, History of the UN); Townsend Hoopes and Douglas Brinkley, FDR and the Creation of the U.N. (Yale University Press 1997) 198–200.
(7) Shirley V Scott, ‘The Question of UN Charter Amendment, 1945–1965: Appeasing “the Peoples” ’ (2007) 9 Journal of the History of International Law 83, 85–86 (hereafter Scott, ‘The Question’).
(8) UN Charter, art 108.
(14) Ralph Zacklin, The Amendment of the Constitutive Instruments of the United Nations and Specialized Agencies (Sijthoff 1968) 183.
(15) ibid 184–85. This was later confirmed in Legal Consequences for States of the Continued Presence of South Africa in Namibia (South West Africa) Notwithstanding Security Council Resolution 276 (1970) (Advisory Opinion)  ICJ Rep 16, para 22.
(16) UN Security Council (UNSC) Res 82 (25 June 1950) UN Doc S/RES/82; UNSC Res 83 (27 June 1950) UN Doc S/RES/83.
(17) Bertrand G Ramcharan, Preventive Diplomacy at the UN (Indiana University Press 2008) 29–31; Salo Engel, ‘The Changing Charter of the United Nations’ (1953) Yearbook of World Affairs 71, 83.
(18) Francis O Wilcox, How the United Nations Charter Has Developed (US Government Print Office 1954) 1, 7.
(20) UNGA Res 376 (V) (7 October 1950) UN Doc A/RES/376(V).
(21) Uniting for Peace, UNGA Res 377 A (V) (3 November 1950) UN Doc A/RES/377(V)A, para 1 (hereafter ‘Uniting for Peace’). The ICJ has more recently confirmed that the practice of the UNGA has evolved so it may make a recommendation in respect of a question concerning the maintenance of international peace and security while the matter remains on the Security Council’s agenda; and that this practice is consistent with Article 12(1) of the Charter. Legal Consequences of the Construction of a Wall in the Occupied Palestinian Territory (Advisory Opinion)  ICJ Rep 136, 149–50.
(23) Lester H Woolsey, ‘The “Uniting for Peace” Resolution of the United Nations’ (1951) 45 American Journal of International Law 129, 133.
(24) GAOR 5th Session Plenary Meeting 299 UN Doc A/PV.299 (1959); GAOR 5th Session Plenary Meeting 301, UN Doc A/PV.301 (1950, 1951) 324.
(26) Statement of Mr Belaunde (Peru), GAOR 5th Session Plenary Meeting 302, UN Doc A/PV.302 (1950) 343.
(27) Statement of Mr Gutierrez (Cuba), GAOR 5th Session Plenary Meeting 301, UN Doc A/PV.302 (1950) 324.
(28) Statement of Mr Vittone (Argentina), GAOR 5th Session Plenary Meeting 301, UN Doc A/PV.301 (1950) 336.
(29) GAOR 5th Session Plenary Meeting 299, UN Doc A/PV.299 (1950).
(30) UN Charter, arts 2(1), 1(2).
(31) UN Charter, arts 75, 76(b).
(32) UN Charter, art 73.
(33) Raymond F Betts, Decolonization (Psychology Press 1998) 24.
(34) Yassin El-Ayouty, The United Nations and Decolonization (Martinus Nijhoff 1971) xxiii (hereafter El-Ayouty, UN and Decolonization).
(35) UN Charter, art 73(e).
(36) UN Charter, chs XII and XIII; Ernst B Haas, ‘The Attempt to Terminate Colonialism: Acceptance of the United Nations Trusteeship System’ (1953) 7 International Organization 1.
(37) In the interests of brevity, this chapter does not examine the well-known disputes over the Trusteeship system—in particular, its application to South West Africa/Namibia—which became an important focal point for decolonization struggles. See generally John Dugard, The South West Africa/Namibia Dispute (University of California Press 1973); Solomon Slonim, South West Africa and the United Nations: An International Mandate in Dispute (Johns Hopkins University Press 1973). On the role of the International Court of Justice in the South West Africa/Namibia dispute, see Chapter 10 this volume.
(38) UNGA Res 66 (I) (14 December 1946) UN Doc A/RES/66(I) paras 1–6.
(40) Josef L Kunz, ‘Chapter XI of the United Nations Charter in Action’ (1954) 48 American Journal of International Law 103, 108–09 (hereafter Kunz, ‘Chapter XI’).
(42) Harold K Jacobson, ‘The United Nations and Colonialism: A Tentative Appraisal’ (1962) 16 International Organization 37.
(46) Clyde Eagleton, ‘Excesses of Self-Determination’ (1953) 31 Foreign Affairs 592, 599–600 (quoting from a report produced by a ‘Committee on Factors’, appointed by the UNGA).
(47) UNGA Res A/1514 (XV) (14 December 1960).
(48) Anne-Marie Burley, ‘Regulating the World: Multilateralism, International Law, and the Projection of the New Deal Regulatory State’ in John Gerard Ruggie (ed), Multilateralism Matters (Columbia University Press 1993) 126; Elizabeth Borgwardt, A New Deal for the World (Belknap Press of Harvard University Press 2005).
(49) UN Charter, art 55.
(50) UN Charter, art 55.
(51) UN Charter, arts 63, 64, 62(1), 62(2).
(53) UNGA Res 198 (III) (4 December 1948) UN Doc A/RES/198(III) para 3; UNGA Res 200 (III) (4 December 1948) UN Doc A/RES/200(III).
(54) Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide (adopted 9 December 1948, entered into force 12 January 1951) 78 UNTS 277; UNGA Res 217 A (III) (10 December 1948) UN Doc A/RES/3/217(III).
(56) United Nations, ‘Information on Non-Self-Governing Territories Transmitted under Article 73e of United Nations Charter’ in United Nations Year Book (United Nations Department of Public Information 1960) 502, 515.
(57) UNGA Res 1715 (XVI) (19 December 1961) UN Doc A/RES/1715(XVI).
(59) UNGA Res 198 (III) para 1.
(62) UN Charter, art 2(7).
(63) UN Department of Economic Affairs, Technical Assistance for Economic Development Available through the United Nations and the Specialized Agencies (UN Publications 1948).
(64) UNGA Res 200 (III) (4 December 1948) paras 4(a), (b), (d).
(65) Though beyond the timeframe covered by this volume, it is significant to consider, for example, the role of peacekeeping operations such as the UN Transition Assistance Group (UNTAG, 1989–1990) and the UN Transitional Administration in East Timor (UNTAET, 1999–2002) in facilitating the transitions to independence of Namibia and East Timor, respectively.
(66) Anthony Gorst and Lewis Johnman, The Suez Crisis (Routledge 1997); David Carlton, Britain and the Suez Crisis (Blackwell 1988); Keith Kyle, Suez (Tauris & Company 2003).
(67) Statement of Mr Dulles (USA), GAOR 1st Emergency Session Plenary Meeting 561, UN Doc A/PV.561 (1956) 10.
(68) UNGA Res 999 (ES-I) (4 November 1956) UN Doc A/RES/999(ES-I).
(69) Dag Hammarskjöld, ‘First Report on the Plan for an Emergency International United Nations Force’ (4 November 1956) in Andrew W Cordier and Wilder Foote (eds), Public Papers, vol III, 334, 334–335; Dag Hammarskjöld, ‘Second and Final Report on the Plan for an Emergency International United Nations Force’ (6 November 1956) in Cordier and Foote, Public Papers of the Secretaries-General of the United Nations, vol III (Columbia University Press 1973) 344.
(70) UNGA Res 1000 (ES-I) (5 November 1956) UN Doc A/RES/1000(ES-I); UNGA Res 1001 (ES-I) (7 November 1956) UN Doc A/RES/1001(ES-I).
(71) GAOR 1st Emergency Session Plenary Meeting 561, UN Doc A/PV.561 (1956) 2, 3.
(72) Jose A Obieta, The International Status of the Suez Canal (Martinus Nijhoff 1960) ch 4.
(73) Statement of Mr Loutfi (Egypt), GAOR 1st Emergency Session Plenary Meeting 561, UN Doc A/PV.561 (1956) 2, 3.
(74) See GAOR 1st Emergency Session Plenary Meeting 562, UN Doc A/PV.562 (1956).
(75) GAOR 1st Emergency Session Plenary Meeting 561, UN Doc A/PV.561 (1956) 4.
(76) ibid 6, 90.
(77) GAOR 1st Emergency Session Plenary Meeting 562, UN Doc A/PV.562 (1956) 26.
(78) UNGA Res 1000 (ES-I) (5 November 1956).
(80) Richard I Miller, Dag Hammarskjold and Crisis Diplomacy (Oceana 1961) 116–19.
(81) Martti Koskenniemi, The Gentle Civilizer of Nations (CUP 2001) 155–70; Adam Hochschild, King Leopold’s Ghost (Houghton Mifflin Harcourt 1999); Georges Nzongola-Ntalaja, The Congo from Leopold to Kabila (Zed Books 2002) ch 1 (hereafter Nzongola-Ntalaja, Congo from Leopold to Kabila).
(83) UN Secretary General, ‘Cable to the Secretary-General’ (13 July 1960) UN Doc S/4382.
(84) UNSC Res 143 (14 July 1960) UN Doc S/4387.
(85) SCOR 15th Session Meeting 873 A/4383 (1960), 3 (para 19).
(86) UNSC Res 143 (1960) UN S/4387 paras 1–2.
(87) UNSC Res 145 (22 July 1960) UN Doc S/4405 (emphasis added).
(88) UNSC Res 169 (24 November 1961) UN Doc S/5002, Preamble, paras 8–9.
(89) Ralph J Bunche, ‘The United Nations Operation in the Congo’ in Andrew W Cordier and Wilder Foote (eds), The Quest for Peace (Columbia University Press 1965) 119, 123.
(90) Robert A Hill and Edmond J Keller (eds), Trustee for the Human Community (Ohio University Press 2010).
(91) Rajeshwar Dayal, Mission for Hammarskjold (OUP 1976); Conor Cruise O’Brien, To Katanga and Back (Hutchinson 1962) 51, 53, 56–57.
(92) Dag Hammarskjöld, ‘First Report by the Secretary-General on the Implementation of Security Council Resolution S/4387 of 14 July 1960’ (18 July 1960) UN Doc S/4389.
(94) ‘SG’s First Report’. See also Rajeshwar Dayal, ‘First Progress Report to the Secretary-General from His Special Representative in the Congo, Ambassador Rajeshwar Dayal’ (21 September 1960) UN Doc S/4531 (Dayal, ‘First Report’) Annex 1: 6–7.
(95) Georges Abi-Saab, The United Nations Operation in the Congo, 1960–1964 (OUP 1978) 72–73 (hereafter Abi-Saab, UN Operation in the Congo).
(96) UNGA Res 1474 (ES-IV) (20 September 1960) UN Doc A/RES/1474(ES-UV) para 3.
(97) Statement of Secretary-General, GAOR 15th Session Plenary Meeting 883, UN Doc A/PV.883 (1960) 331 (para 8), 332 (para 11).
(98) ‘United Nations Technical Assistance in the Congo’ (undated, pre-1960) UNA S-0752-0040-06.
(99) Arthur H House, The U.N. in the Congo (University Press of America 1978) (hereafter House, UN in the Congo); Harold K Jacobson, ‘ONUC’s Civilian Operations: State-Preserving and State-Building’ (1964) 17 World Politics 75; Carsten Stahn, The Law and Practice of International Territorial Administration (CUP 2008) 236–46.
(100) Harold K Jacobson, ‘New States and Functional International Organisations: A Preliminary Report’ in Robert W Cox (ed), The Politics of International Organizations (Praeger 1969) 74 (ch 3), 87 (hereafter Jacobson, ‘New States’).
(101) United Nations Operation in the Congo, ‘United Nations Operation in the Congo: Report on Civilian Operations in 1963’ (30 April 1964) UNA LEO/PROG/3, I.
(103) Dag Hammarskjöld, ‘Second Report by the Secretary-General on the Implementation of Security Council Resolutions’ (11 August 1960) UN Doc S/4417/Add.5.
(104) United Nations Association, ‘Cable B336 from SecGen to Cordier’ (date illegible) UNA S-0845-0006-06-00001.
(105) United Nations Association, ‘A Tentative Approach to Civilian Affairs–Draft’ (23 July 1960) UNA S-0845-0006-06-00001.
(107) Alan James, Britain and the Congo Crisis: 1960 - 1963 (Palgrave Macmillan 1996) 66–67, 71; David N Gibbs, ‘The United Nations, International Peacekeeping and the Question of “Impartiality”: Revisiting the Congo Operation of 1960’ (2000) 38 The Journal of Modern African Studies 359, 369–73.
(109) Mohan, ‘Ghana, the Congo, and the UN’ (n 93) 370. See also Alanna O’Malley, ‘Ghana, India, and the Transnational Dynamics of the Congo Crisis at the United Nations, 1960–1961’ (2015) 37 International History Review 970, 982–84.
(110) Alessandro Iandolo, ‘The Rise and Fall of the “Soviet Model of Development” in West Africa, 1957–1964’ (2012) 12 Cold War History 683.
(111) Colin Leys, The Rise & Fall of Development Theory (Indian University Press 1996) ch 3 (on ‘Samuel Huntington & the End of Classical Modernization Theory’).
(112) Norrie MacQueen, United Nations Peacekeeping in Africa since 1960 (Longman 2002) 59.