Handout. Organizational Complicity. Rwandan Refugee Camps

Organizational Complicity. Rwandan Refugee Camps

 

1. The Overview of Chapter 7

Based on the theoretical frameworks presented in Chapters 4 through 6, Lepora and Goodin analyze the case of the Rwandan refugee camps to evaluate the blameworthiness of various agents involved in the specific wrongdoing—“using the refugees as human shields to protect perpetrators of genocide” (138). As they earlier noted, the overarching goal of this book is to provide an appropriate moral theory that reflects non-ideal circumstances where we unavoidably encounter humanitarian conundrum (2-3). The Rwandan genocide and its repercussions count as such a case. The FAR (Rwandan Armed Forces) was the principal agent responsible for committing genocide against the Tutsi (and the Hutu who helped them), killing more than 500,000 people in just 100 days. After the refugee camps were established as a result of the genocide, the FAR exploited the refugee population in various ways: “as a source of income and power in their own right; as a lure for international assistance and legitimation; and as protection against those who might punish or retaliate against the FAR for the genocide” (131).

The FAR, of course, serves as both the principal agent and the plan-maker in this case. Nevertheless, the authors further point out that several contributory agents and plan-takers were complicit with the FAR in the wrongdoing. For instance, the Zairian government acted as a collaborator by “allowing perpetrators of the genocide to cross its borders” (134). Journalists—as co-principals—cooperated with the FAR; NGOs were involved in acts of connivance; and even the refugees themselves are not free from the accusation of consorting. According to the authors, “contributions [of UN agencies and the NGOs]…causally enabled the FAR militias’ abuse of the refugees…It is thus in terms of ‘complicity simpliciter’ that humanitarian organizations should truly be judged” (138).

2. Discussion Questions

In terms of application, I do not think the authors’ analysis is incoherent or lacking any substantial aspect of their theory. However, I have found several questionable passages worth mentioning, which could reveal potential flaws in the authors’ theoretical framework.

First, notwithstanding the authors’ aim to account for the complexity of non-ideal moral contexts, their theoretical framework remains surprisingly straightforward: plan-makers and principals (or co-principals) devise the plan and engage in a series of actions that constitute the wrongdoing—in the case of the Rwandan refugee camps, using the refugees as human shields to protect perpetrators of genocide. Plan-takers and contributory agents knowingly—but sometimes reluctantly—perform tasks that causally contribute to the wrongdoing. The activities of contributory agents are thus consistently regarded as subordinate to those of the principal actors, and their relationship is often described as unidirectional.

In reality, however, the picture is much more complicated than this: arguably every agent serves as both plan-maker and plan-taker simultaneously, and this kind of complexity is not fully articulated in their account. For instance, Lepora and Goodin point out the NGOs and UN agencies’ acts of complicity in virtue of essentiality— ‘definitely essential,’ ‘potentially essential,’ and ‘necessarily inessential’ actions. They did not differentiate between militias and civilians in the initial setting up of refugee camps. This resulted in an undesirable consequence that the FAR benefited from legal protection. It is thus definitely essential to the FAR’s wrongdoing. Moreover, “humanitarian organizations providing food and water…should be deemed ‘potentially essential’… only if: (a) FAR militia diverted that aid and profited from it with the aim of misusing it for war purposes; and (b) on some scenario or another, those diverted resources were strictly necessary for the success of those war purposes” (140-141).

However, I think those two contributions—i.e., failing to differentiate militias and civilians, and providing food and water for refugees—are distinct not only in their essentiality regarding the FAR’s wrongdoing, but also in kind. When NGOs and UN agencies are viewed as plan-makers, only the latter action is constitutive of their plan—that is, to save refugees. For them, it was not an optional course of action, given their humanitarian purpose. The former action, by contrast, might even be considered harmful, as it increased the risk of failing to achieve that purpose by inadvertently reinforcing the FAR’s influence.

Therefore, although I fully agree with their claim that “not all were equally complicit, and not all acts of complicity are equally bad” (139), I would still argue that their answer to the question, “What factors should weigh in our moral judgments in these complex situations?” (139), remains insufficient. We must take into account the active dimension of contributory agents. Moreover, emphasizing this aspect can also shed light on the interaction between principals and contributory agents. As Lepora and Goodin articulate in Chapter 2, compromise emerges in various forms: Substitution compromise generates a principle {X} from sets of principles—say, {A, B, C, D} and {E, F, G, H} (20-21). Insofar as their main purpose is maintained, two parties could compromise their principles. Then, it seems implausible to assume that the FAR wholly exploited the NGO and UN agencies without any form of negotiation or compromise. For instance, it is common for authoritarian regimes to regulate their own behavior to maintain a favorable public image in their relations with NGOs.