MONROVIA, Liberia — African soldiers often serve on the dangerous frontlines of international attempts to end conflicts, and the planned deployment soon of approximately 1,000 Kenyan police officers to Haiti is no exception. Though the use of the Kenyan-led multinational security force, which has been delayed over logistical issues, is not a United Nations peacekeeping mission, the Security Council authorized it and approved Kenya’s role.
Despite the Council’s blessing of the Kenyan force and as the international day of peacekeepers nears, on May 29, the future of UN-sponsored peace operations is in doubt as their effectiveness is questioned. But scant attention has been paid to the impact of the missions on the troops, many of whom benefit from life-changing wages, advanced training and international collaborations, while serving in hazardous conditions.
Our interviews of Liberian peacekeepers took place over two years, as part of a larger research project on African peacekeepers and the effect of their deployment on their lives, livelihoods and communities. That project ended as the UN Multidimensional Integrated Stabilization Mission in Mali (Minusma) was wrapping up, in 2023.
Meanwhile, broader questions about the future of UN peacekeeping were coming into focus.
Back in December, the mood was tense in Monrovia, Liberia’s capital, as soldiers and their families waited for their comrades and loved ones to return from their deployment in Timbuktu as part of Minusma. Over 50 countries had contributed to the mission across 10 years and most were African.
As the Malian junta government’s deadline for the withdrawal of troops neared that month, camps were still being attacked in the remotest parts of the country as convoys were encountering improvised explosive devices and troops were being killed — continuing challenges for Minusma. The UN’s second-deadliest peacekeeping operation in history, with 311 fatalities, headed into its final throes. (The mission in Lebanon, Unifil, is the deadliest with 343 killed.)
Many peacekeepers wondered whether the luck of the Liberians, who lost only one soldier and another who had succumbed to injuries years later, might run out. Other Liberian soldiers who had not served were anxious about missing out on an opportunity that could be life-altering financially in a country where the average monthly wage is $150 to $200. UN reimbursement rates for peacekeepers is $1,428 monthly, though contributing states decide how much to pass along to individual soldiers, but the reality is that African soldiers earn much more while on UN deployments.
As the Liberian troops touched down at Roberts International Airport, outside of Monrovia in mid-December, the joy of the soldiers and their loved ones was palpable. Families wore bright matching T-shirts with photographs of posters that celebrated the soldiers as heroes. The soldiers, dressed in uniforms and blue berets, hugged family members and handed out gifts before heading to a military base for a week of debriefing and reintegration training.
Many of the Liberian troops we spoke with were proud of their deployment, even if it was extremely dangerous, and welcomed the chance to give back to a system they felt had served them well. Like the Malians they protected, they had experienced displacement and war themselves, when Liberia underwent conflicts just a few decades earlier. They also said that working in an international setting with fellow peacekeepers from across the globe expanded their worlds.
But many troops also expressed feelings of uncertainty about the mission’s role and guilt about earning so much money when Malians were living in violence and poverty. They spoke of a longing to be more connected with the local population than the security protocols would permit.
“Most people think it is not helping, the ordinary citizens are in poverty and they see us living well, eating every day and ask why we are here, what are we doing while they are starving and being attacked?” a Liberian staff sergeant told us.
It was unclear from our research if Liberia, one of Africa’s poorest countries and, like Mali, located in West Africa, would benefit from any new UN missions as many major peace operations wind down. There have been a total of 71 peacekeeping missions over the last 76 years. Member states pay for the missions based on mandated yearly dues, and the annual budget for them has been just over $6 billion in the last several years.
Not long after the closing of Minusma, the government of the Democratic Republic of the Congo asked for peacekeepers that had been deployed for more than two decades to leave. This request has been followed by others for the closure of UN political missions by both African and Middle Eastern governments in conflict or post-conflict zones such as Sudan, Somalia and, most recently, Iraq. Political missions do not involve troops and tend to focus on helping to stabilize a country in recovering or postwar situations. Yet the Arab League called this month for a UN peace operation to be set up for the Palestinian territories before a two-state solution materializes.
Ten years ago, there were 16 active UN peacekeeping missions, while today there are 11. A decade has passed since a new UN peacekeeping mission has been established, leading to debates about their future. Concerns have been raised about the usefulness of peacekeeping, especially where fighting continues decades into a deployment, such as in the Congo. Yet the experiences of African peacekeepers, who make up most of the so-called blue helmets and work predominantly in the continent, are generally ignored.
Liberia, for example, was once home to one of the biggest UN peacekeeping missions in the world, the UN Mission in Liberia (Unmil). It was created after a peace agreement in 2003 ended Liberia’s civil war, which killed more than 250,000 people and displaced millions of others. In 2013, five years before the mission’s end, Liberia’s restructured military started contributing peacekeepers to Minusma, which was created to quell the jihadist violence in much of the country’s north. The Liberian contribution to the peace operations in Mali was a source of pride for Liberia, particularly given the military’s own history of abuse.
Deployment to Minusma also provided a source of life-changing income for troops, who would earn as much as five times their normal salaries in a month, providing them with money to build houses, invest in businesses, get married, pursue university degrees and help their families, opportunities that many said would be unattainable on the regular army salary.
Some Liberian soldiers expressed remorse that they were leaving a country worse off, but noted that many Malians did not want them there. While Unmil had its own complicated record in Liberia, peacekeepers had some connection with the local population, and the UN mission in Liberia left the country in a state of “peace,” or at least not a state of war.
Our interviews suggested that the doubts about peacekeeping missions and their purpose also prevail among troops.
“Mali will be divided,” said Wilmot Barzon Barh, a master sergeant and army chaplain who served in the mission during its final years. “That is what we see happening in Mali. It’s not a good thing. We tried our best to bring peace in Mali, but we are not in the authority to pass a verdict that we remain.”
Clair MacDougall is an independent journalist and photographer who has reported throughout Africa on security and humanitarian crises. She holds an honor’s degree in political theory and a master’s degree from the Columbia Graduate School of Journalism. In February 2021, the International Center for Journalists awarded MacDougall for her article on the first official death of a UN peacekeeper from Covid-19, published jointly by PassBlue and The Daily Beast.
Maggie Dwyer is a lecturer in the School of Social and Political Science at University of Edinburgh. Her work focuses on politics, security and development in Africa. She leads the Economic and Social Research Council-funded project titled “Return From Peacekeeping: Mission Effects on Veterans, State and Communities.” She is author of the book “Soldiers in Revolt: Army Mutinies in Africa” (Hurst, 2017).
