Editorial: Peacekeeping has a human cost, too

For soldiers, peacekeeping never has been and never will be a safe option. Among its perils is an unpredictability that is often absent from orthodox military confrontations. Inevitably, peacekeeping exacts a toll. Other nations, most notably the United States, have learned that to their cost. Now, New Zealand has also paid a price with the death of an Army scout at the hands of East Timorese militiamen.

Perhaps it was an illustration of the perplexities of peacekeeping that Private Leonard Manning was not shot soon after the intervention in East Timor, when conditions would have been expected to be at their most volatile. His death came, in fact, as plans were being drawn up for the withdrawal of New Zealand's 660 peacekeepers. It is a measure of the success of the intervention that he was the first combat casualty since the United Nations-backed force entered the former Indonesian territory last September.

Inevitably, however, Private Manning's death will prompt questioning of the worth of the East Timor operation and the value of New Zealand's contribution to UN forces. At its most extreme, this sort of challenge led to a panic-stricken US pullout from Somalia after 18 American troops were killed there one day in late 1993. The withdrawal condemned the UN intervention to abject failure and the Somalis to a desolate future.

That lesson should not be forgotten, and New Zealand's commitment to the people of East Timor must not waver. The priority, as the Minister of Foreign Affairs has stated, must be a renewed determination to disarm and disband militia groups.

Equally, there must be a resolve to ensure that the focus on peacekeeping enunciated in the Government's recent policy framework does not equate to a cheapening of the Defence Force. The risks inherent in peacekeeping have been confirmed. The task now is to ensure that the military personnel sent on such missions are fully trained and comprehensively equipped for combat. And that they possess the additional skills required for peacekeeping.

It is often as dangerous to attempt to defuse a fraught situation as to take action by force of arms. In both Bosnia five years ago and East Timor, New Zealand's soldiers were well-trained. But they were pitched into perilous environments with outdated equipment. That deficiency could only impair their combat capability.

If New Zealand wishes to contribute to UN peacekeeping operations, it is increasingly vital that its forces are fully combat-capable. The UN Secretary-General earlier this year unveiled his hope for a more robust style of peace enforcement. And while no country, least of all the US, wants to see its soldiers killed, there is evidence that Kofi Annan may not be whistling in the wind.

Nato's campaign to drive Serbian troops out of Kosovo was restricted to aerial bombardment because of the fear of heavy casualties from ground fighting. Eventually, however, its clear preparedness to start a ground assault persuaded Slobodan Milosevic that the game was up. Likewise, after a faltering start, a number of countries, including Britain, showed the fortitude to contribute troops to a UN force in Sierra Leone.

It remains true, however, that any peacekeeping operation, no matter how humanitarian the motive, will be undermined by heavy casualties. More than 50,000 American soldiers died in Vietnam before a pullout was ordered. Now, in the full glare of a television age, public opinion would tolerate only a small percentage of that toll.

For a small country, with a small standing Army, even one casualty is deeply felt. Private Manning has paid the ultimate price for serving his country. New Zealand must, however, expect to pay a cost in both human and financial terms if it wishes to meet its commitments in the Asia-Pacific region and as a contributor to global security through the UN.

The death of one of its soldiers in East Timor should be the catalyst for ensuring that the best of training and equipment keep that cost to a minimum.