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The construction of the humanitarian worker as inviolate actor Leclerc-Gagné, Elise 2014

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The construction of the humanitarian worker as inviolate actor   by    Elise Leclerc-Gagné      A THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF  THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF     DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY   in    The Faculty of Graduate and Postdoctoral Studies  (Political Science)    THE UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH COLUMBIA (Vancouver)     May 2014       Elise Leclerc-Gagné, 2014    ii  Abstract  “How is it that there is such a concern for the security of humanitarian workers?” A glance at the legal, policy, humanitarian, academic and business spheres reveals a widespread and strong commitment to the security of humanitarian workers. While it may appear obvious that these actors should not be victims of security incidents, upon scrutiny, the prominence of this notion – which I term the “norm of humanitarian security” – is surprising. Concern for the security of humanitarian workers is startling considering the enduring ambiguity of what or who humanitarian workers are, and the fact that these actors perform work that has, for years, faced serious critiques.   In view of this state of affairs, this dissertation asks: “how is it that humanitarian workers came to be perceived as inviolate actors?” I attend to this question by tracing a genealogy of the norm of humanitarian security. After outlining the emergence of the humanitarian worker as actor, I show how the norm of humanitarian security developed and gained prominence in the 1990s. I argue that this development was greatly informed by states’ commitment to the delivery of humanitarian assistance to which the security of humanitarian workers was perceived as central. States’ changing paradigm of engagement in humanitarian affairs in the post-2001 period contributed to the norm of humanitarian security becoming a stand-alone norm. This occasioned a shift in which violations of the norm went from being portrayed as problematic owing to their impact on the delivery of humanitarian assistance, to being perceived as problematic in and of themselves.   This research makes an important contribution to the literature on norms – by providing the first study of the norm of humanitarian security; the literature on humanitarianism – by shedding light on the evolution of the notion of humanitarian worker and showing the interplay between the evolution of the humanitarian sphere and the humanitarian worker; and to the literature on the security of humanitarian workers – by providing a historically situated account of its object of study.      iii Preface  The dissertation is an original intellectual product of Elise Leclerc-Gagné.  Portions of the research and analysis presented in Chapters 3 and 4 were published in 2014. “The Changing Portrayal of Violations of the Norm of Humanitarian Security.” Canadian Humanitarian Conference 2013: Discussion Papers: 35-55.  Interviews conducted for this dissertation were approved by the University of British Columbia’ Behavioural Ethics Board (BREB), certificates H-09-01834, H10-00366 and H11-02731.     iv Table of Contents  Abstract ........................................................................................................................................... ii Preface............................................................................................................................................ iii Table of Contents ........................................................................................................................... iv List of Tables ................................................................................................................................. vi Acknowledgements ....................................................................................................................... vii Dedication ...................................................................................................................................... ix Chapter 1 ......................................................................................................................................... 1 1.1. The security of humanitarian workers in international politics ........................................... 4 1.2. Surprising concern for the security of humanitarian workers .............................................. 7 1.3. Argument ........................................................................................................................... 13 1.3.1. Alternative explanations and responses to main critiques .......................................... 17 1.4. Terminology ....................................................................................................................... 18 1.5. State of the literature and the contribution of this research ............................................... 20 1.5.1. Humanitarianism ......................................................................................................... 21 1.5.2. Constructivim and the Literature on Norms ............................................................... 22 1.5.3. Security of humanitarian workers ............................................................................... 26 1.6. Method, Data and Organization of the research ................................................................ 28 Chapter 2: The first steps of the humanitarian worker ................................................................. 32 2.1. Humanitarian developments around the world .................................................................. 34 2.2. Solferino – humanitarianism’s founding myth .................................................................. 38 2.3. First recognition of the humanitarian worker .................................................................... 46 2.4. Precedents of the 1899 Hague Convention: history of the concern for POWs .................. 48 2.5. World War I ....................................................................................................................... 52 2.5.1. Information Agency .................................................................................................... 54 2.5.2. Prisoners of War ......................................................................................................... 56 2.5.2.1. Distinctiveness of relief societies......................................................................... 56 2.5.2.2. Nationalistic character of relief action ................................................................. 61 2.5.3. Civilians ...................................................................................................................... 64 2.6. Conclusion ......................................................................................................................... 68 Chapter 3: The emergence of the humanitarian worker as inviolate actor: humanitarian security as means ........................................................................................................................................ 70 3.1. The humanitarian sphere from the end of WWI to the end of the Cold War .................... 72 3.1.1. The Interwar and Second World War ......................................................................... 72 3.1.2. The Cold War: development of the humanitarian sphere ........................................... 80 3.1.3. Post-Cold War period ................................................................................................. 99 3.2. The norm of humanitarian security in the 1990s ............................................................. 106 3.3. Alternative explanations .................................................................................................. 108 3.4. Argument ......................................................................................................................... 112 3.5. Overview of the humanitarian activities in Bosnia .......................................................... 115 3.6. The security of humanitarian workers during the war in Bosnia and Herzegovina ......... 121 3.6.1. Justifications of violation .......................................................................................... 131 3.7. The security of media professionals during the war in Bosnia and Herzegovina ............ 132 3.8. Rome Statute .................................................................................................................... 136 3.9. Conclusion ....................................................................................................................... 141   v Chapter 4: The humanitarian worker as inviolate actor in the post 9/11 world .......................... 143 4.1. Expressions of commitment to the norm of humanitarian security ................................. 146 4.2. The Canal Hotel bombing and World Humanitarian Day ............................................... 151 4.3. Trends in news reporting on violations of the norm of humanitarian security ................ 156 4.4. Paradigm shift: states’ increasing harnessing humanitarian action ................................. 159 4.5. Focus on victimized humanitarian workers ..................................................................... 165 4.5.1. The post-9/11 culture of commemoration and the narrative of the War on Terror .. 166 4.5.2. Developments in media and technology ................................................................... 170 4.5.3. Humanitarian workers’ use of new media and technology ....................................... 175 4.6. Media professionals ......................................................................................................... 177 4.7. Conclusion ....................................................................................................................... 181 Chapter 5 ..................................................................................................................................... 183 5.1. Summary of the research ................................................................................................. 184 5.2. Literature on humanitarianism ......................................................................................... 185 5.3. Literature on norms .......................................................................................................... 188 5.4. Evolution of the norm of humanitarian security: what it reveals and its effects ............. 193 Bibliography ............................................................................................................................... 203 Appendix A – List of Interviewees ............................................................................................. 262      vi List of Tables  Table 1: News Media Analysis – Complete ................................................................................. 98 Table 2: News Media Analysis – Merged Results ........................................................................ 98 Table 3: News Media Analysis – Security Incidents .................................................................. 157      vii Acknowledgements  Now starting this acknowledgement section, I finally understand Oscar-winning actors who come on stage with a well-prepared and rehearsed list of people to thank. Although I am allowed more time and space, I still feel that this acknowledgement section cannot fully capture the extent of my gratitude to the numerous people who contributed to and supported this project through the years. Before to start hearing the “exit music,” I should get started!   I first extend my deepest thanks to the members of my Ph.D. committee: Richard M. Price, Kalevi J. Holsti and Michael Byers who provided me with tremendous moral and intellectual support through the years. I am particularly grateful to Professor Price who, as my supervisor, believed in and supported the project since Day 1. His trust in the value of this research as well as in my ability to carry it out was instrumental in the completion of the dissertation. He provided intellectual rigor and guidance combined with considerable academic freedom which provided the perfect environment to fully develop as a researcher and academic.   Professor Holsti was the first member of the Ph.D. committee – on board even prior to knowing the nature of my research project. He has been my anchor throughout this Ph.D. program, providing me with much needed support and assistance from the time of my first class at UBC and through the dreaded comprehensive exams to the completion of this project. His passion for learning and commitment to clear communication have not only benefitted this research but will infuse my future endeavours.  Throughout this research, Professor Byers asked me the “hard questions” – what does it mean? why does it matter? – thereby forcing me to go one step further. His input and legal expertise helped me making more thorough and convincing claims and arguments. Although not a member of the Ph.D. committee, I need to express my profound gratitude to Professor Brian L. Job. Working with him as a TA and RA through the years provided me with the most intellectually stimulating working environment one could ask for. I am also immensely thankful for the opportunity he provided me to carry out archival research at the ICRC in Geneva in 2012. This research trip allowed me to discover fascinating documents as well as my passion. I am also grateful that he served as external examiner for this dissertation. To my four UBC mentors, thank you. I also want to thank Professor Erin Baines (UBC) and Professor Michael Barnett (GWU) who served as external examiners for this dissertation. Their insightful questions and comments will continue to contribute to my reflections on humanitarianism and the security of humanitarian workers.   I am also deeply indebted to my dear friends, whose moral, intellectual and proofreading support now allow me to submit a readable dissertation without having lost my sanity. You inspired me to work harder when I was losing motivation, convinced me to get away from my computer at appropriate moments, read and provided insightful feedback on this project and offered support through the years. Special thanks to Afsoun Afsahi, Nathan Allen, James Baker, Marc André Bodet, Adam Bower, Agustin Goenaga, Sean Gray, Clare McGovern, Kate McElroy, David Moscrop, Kate Neville, William Plowright, Karine Robitaille-Chayer, Rosanne Sia and Ashley Van Damme.     viii This research and the author’s reflections on humanitarianism greatly benefitted from the insights I gathered through meeting dozens of committed individuals and experts over the past four years. Their input shaped, brought clarity, and supported the arguments presented in this dissertation. I express my deepest thanks to all my interviewees who gave of their time to discuss my research. I also thank OXFAM Québec and its team in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) who made my research trip in eastern DRC possible. While this case study does not appear in the final version of this dissertation, the experience greatly informed my reflection on humanitarian action. Special thanks to Jocelyn Brousseau who provided me with support during this research trip and ever since.  My visit to the ICRC archives in Geneva in 2012 significantly strengthened the historical sections of this dissertation. I am particularly thankful to Mr. Fabrizio Benzi, chief archivist, and Mr. Daniel Palmieri, historian, who provided me with incredible intellectual and technical support during my stay in Geneva and during the months of writing.   For financial assistance I am grateful to the Fonds Québécois pour la Recherche sur la Société et la Culture’s Ph.D. Scholarship, the Security and Defence Forum’s Research Grant and the Security and Defence Forum’s Ph.D. Scholarship.  Finally, last but not least, (dix) mille mercis to my family. It is thanks to your unfaltering support, love and understanding that I made it through this program and project. I love you. Although thousands of kilometers away, you have been at my side each step of the way. Thank you.     ix  Dedication  To my family    1 Chapter 1    Inter arma silent leges (Among arms, the laws fall mute) (attributed to Cicero)  “Those suspected of carrying the attacks out [against NGO workers] or ordering them must be brought to justice and tried according to international human rights standards.”  - Sam Zarifi, Amnesty International's Asia-Pacific director following the killing of 6 NGO workers in Pakistan in 2010. (Amnesty International, 2010)  “NATO forces swooped in by helicopter before dawn Saturday to rescue two female foreign aid workers and their two Afghan colleagues who were held by militants for nearly two weeks in a cave in northern Afghanistan. British Prime Minister David Cameron hailed the “breathtaking” operation […] after becoming increasingly concerned about the safety of the hostages.” (Faiez, Rahim and Sebastian Abbot, 2012)  Statements such as Zarifi’s are a common reaction to security incidents involving humanitarian workers, and the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) intervention referred to in the third quotation, albeit less common, was not the object of critique or objections by NATO countries, the media or humanitarian organizations. One can only wonder at the spectacular development that occurred from Cicero’s conception of war where “law is quiet” to a time where the kidnapping of four aid workers is so disquieting as to justify the deployment of NATO forces for their rescue. It is worth noting that this rescue mission was not unique. For instance, in the fall of 2010, aid worker Linda Norgrove was kidnapped in Afghanistan’s Kunar province. United States (US) forces responded to her abduction by carrying out numerous search missions, blocking potential escape routes for the kidnappers, dropping leaflets on villages offering rewards in exchange for information and finally, performing a rescue mission, that unfortunately resulted in Norgrove’s death.1 Interestingly, the only critiques that arose in relation to this case focussed on the manner in which the rescue mission was carried out and its outcome, but not on whether such operation was warranted.2 How is it that there is such a concern about the security of humanitarian workers?                                                    1 Kim Sengupta provides a clear account of these events. See Sengupta, Kim. 2010. “How the official story of Linda Norgrove’s death unravelled.” The Independent, October 12.  2 For example, see the following articles on Linda Norgrove’s rescue: Sugden, Joanna. 2010. “Linda Norgrove rescue – reaction and developments.” The Times, October 11; Boone, Jon, Declan Walsh, Matthew Taylor and Severin Carrell. 2010. “‘We were ready to negotiate for Linda Norgrove when rescue bid began’ claim.” The Guardian, October 12; Kirkup, James and Ben Farmer. 2010. “Linda Norgrove: US soldiers disciplined over failed rescue.” The Telegraph, December 2.    2 While it may seem obvious that humanitarian workers should not be victimized, Cicero’s phrase reminds us that there is nothing natural or inherent about this concern. In fact, the notion that humanitarian workers’ security should not be violated constitutes a novel development. It became an issue of increasing concern for the international community in the last two decades, as evidenced by increased attention from the media, academics, humanitarians, the policy community, and business leaders. Amidst this evident interest in the security of humanitarian workers, the norm of humanitarian security itself – which expresses the notion that humanitarian workers’ security should not be violated – has attracted little attention. As Koskenniemi contends, this focus on compliance “silently assumes that the political question – what the objectives are – has already been solved” (quoted in Kinsella 2011, 5).  My research seeks to fill this gap by examining what made the norm’s development and current strength possible. It asks: “How is it that humanitarian workers came to be perceived as inviolate actors?” I attend to this question by tracing the genealogy of the norm of humanitarian security.   This research project has two main concerns. First, it attends to the evolution of the humanitarian worker as actor: as will be shown in this work, who exactly gets to count as a member of this category is not at all obvious. This is an important endeavour because humanitarian workers constitute a feature of contemporary international life, whose existence is taken for granted. Also, the International Relations (IR) and humanitarian aid literature have paid limited attention to the origins, meaning and development of this actor. This genealogy traces the emergence and evolution of a humanitarian actor, distinct from the sole performance of humanitarian acts, which have been and remain carried out by a variety of actors – including religious organizations and private companies such as Wal-Mart. This exercise is not only important because it fills a gap in the abovementioned literatures but also because it provides the requisite foundation for the rest of the research. A convincing account of the construction of the humanitarian worker as inviolate actor entails an understanding of who this actor is. Second, through shedding light on an international norm that has so far attracted limited attention in the IR, humanitarian aid and humanitarian security literatures, this genealogy makes a valuable theoretical contribution. By introducing the IR literature with knowledge of a   3 “new” norm, this research contributes to a better understanding of the international normative environment and its evolution. This is significant considering how norms do not develop in a vacuum and how their emergence and evolution are affected by other norms. Also, through connecting developments in the norm of humanitarian security with developments in the humanitarian sphere (e.g. nature of states’ engagement in humanitarian affairs), this research provides the literature on humanitarian aid with a more complex understanding of its object of study. Moreover, it offers the literature on the security of humanitarian workers with a historically situated understanding of its premise: the humanitarian worker as inviolate actor.   Considering that my research on the norm of humanitarian security is the first to attend to this development, I have limited its scope in two ways. First, my research centres on the development of the norm of humanitarian security in situations of armed conflict. Second, my research mainly focuses on foreign humanitarian workers’ security. Attending to the development of the norm of humanitarian security in natural disasters, examining the development of the concern for the security of local humanitarian workers, and analyzing how the concern for the security of local humanitarian workers differs from and resembles concern for the security of foreign humanitarian workers constitute important avenues for future research.  The project’s two related dimensions– the development of the humanitarian worker as actor, and the construction and evolution of concern for the security of humanitarian workers – are reflected into the organization of this research; with the second chapter attending to the emergence and early development of the humanitarian worker and the third and fourth chapters mainly focussing on the norm of humanitarian security. While both dimensions are addressed in each chapter, their weight is unevenly distributed. This derives from this research’s needs and state of the literature.   In this chapter I will outline the research’s contribution, relevance and organization. I start by reviewing how concern for the security of humanitarian workers is expressed in international politics. Second, I highlight two reasons why widespread concern for the   4 security of humanitarian workers is puzzling. Third, I present the research’s argument. Fourth, I briefly discuss the terminology used in the research. Fifth, I situate the project in the literature and underline its contribution. Sixth, I discuss the method, data used and organization of the research.   1.1. The security of humanitarian workers in international politics  Attention to the security of humanitarian workers is not only visible in the humanitarian sphere but also in the media, research community, the actions of states and in the business sector. Several salient features of the attention to these issues are worth flagging. First, owing to a lack of data on security incidents involving humanitarian workers prior to the mid-1990s, it is not possible to demonstrate empirically that security incidents garner more media attention or that they are now more comprehensively reported (as such exercise would require matching security incidents with news reports). Yet, researchers examining the security of humanitarian workers have noticed a growing coverage of security incidents by the media over time.3 Interestingly, the media does not only attend to the security of humanitarian workers in the aftermath of a security incident but also as means to illustrate the danger of certain contexts. For instance, in his August 14th 2013 article in the New York Times, Nicholas Kulis presented Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF)’s withdrawal from Somalia as evidence of “the continued violence in the country despite recent steps toward stability.”4 It is worth noting that humanitarian organizations have supported and encouraged this media attention to the security of humanitarian workers. Recognizing the significant role played by the media in bringing attention to the security of humanitarian workers notably led a 2010 expert roundtable on the protection of humanitarian personnel to propose that “reporting that brings attention to the issue of the protection of humanitarian personnel could be recognized by a humanitarian journalism award” (Eggleston and McDougall 2010, 11).5                                                    3 Christina Wille, the lead researcher at Insecurity Insight, emphatically validated this observation by saying: “there is absolutely no question about it.” (Interview with the author, Geneva, 2012)  4 Other examples are Lantos, Tom. 2003. “Secure Afghanistan Now.” The Washington Times, June 9; Wente, Margaret. 2003. “In Iraq, the war gets dirtier.” The Globe and Mail, October 28.  5 As of 2013, this award has not been created. This instance nevertheless highlights the perceived power of the media in raising awareness and attention to this issue. This prospective award also points to journalistic   5 Second, while it was scarcely mentioned three decades ago, the security of humanitarian workers has become the object of a lively field of study with research documenting trends and patterns of victimization (Stoddard, Harmer and DiDomenico 2009; Humanitarian Outcomes 2011; Humanitarian Outcomes 2012; Insecurity Insight, n.d.). Supported by the emergence of a number of think tanks and research initiatives, this body of literature has quickly grown in terms of sophistication.6 In order to better understand the source of humanitarian workers’ vulnerability, authors first distinguished between security and safety incidents – the former referring to acts of violence and the latter to accidents and illnesses (Martin 1999, 4; Sheik et al. 2000; Rowley et al. 2008). They then examined the different types of security threats facing humanitarian workers (e.g. suicide attack, carjacking), the location of security incidents (urban v. rural areas), the varying degree of vulnerability experienced by different organizations (United Nations (UN), International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) or non-governmental organization (NGO)), and staff (male and female; foreign and national) (Fontaine 2004, 170-171; Stoddard, Harmer and DiDomenico 2009; OCHA 2011, 11-12; Wille and Fast 2011; Humanitarian Outcomes 2012a; Wille and Fast 2013a). Building on this mapping exercise, a multiplicity of factors – ranging from the “Western face” of humanitarianism, to the proliferation of small arms, to the increasing number of workers deployed in dangerous settings7 to the politicization and militarization of aid – were identified as increasing the vulnerability of humanitarian workers to violence (Comtesse 1997; Van Brabant 1998; UN 2003, 19; Olson 2006; Stoddard, Harmer and DiDomenico 2009, 6; Micheletti 2010; Kratenbuhl 2011). Authors also identified considerations including operationality, integration into the local community and involvement with both sides of the conflict to explain the different degree of insecurity experienced by humanitarian organizations (Fast 2007). Complementing                                                                                                                                                  awards’ impact on the content of media reports as they provide media professionals with frames through which to analyze situations and with incentives to focus on certain issues. For example, the United Nations Correspondents Association (UNCA) grants awards to media professionals covering the United Nations. Prizes up to $10,000 per category accompany these awards (UNCA 2013). 6 For instance, important contributors to this field have emerged in the last 15 years: the Overseas Development Institute was created in 1999, Security Management Initiative in 2004, Humanitarian Outcomes in 2005 and Insecurity Insight in 2008. Research programs examining the issue of the security of humanitarian workers were also founded during the same period, including at Tufts University in 1997.  7 As an illustration of this increasing organizational density of INGOs operating in dangeous environments, Cooley and Ron write: “In 1980, for example, there were 37 foreign relief agencies in a major Cambodian refugee camp along the Thai border. By 1995, more than 200 INGOs were present in Goma; and in 1996, 240 INGOs were active in Bosnia,12 requiring some thirty coordination meetings per week” (2002, 10).   6 these general findings, some researchers also explicated conflict-specific patterns of victimization.8 A clearer picture of the insecurity of humanitarian workers has thus emerged over the last two decades and has provided humanitarian organizations and policymakers with a source of invaluable information.    Third, starting in the late 1990s, humanitarian organizations developed a greater awareness of risk to their personnel and have become more engaged in reflecting on and bringing necessary changes to their approaches to security and risk management.9 Although humanitarian organizations have changed their security practices by differing degrees, a concern for security matters now permeates the humanitarian sphere (Kemp and Merkelbach 2011, 10-15; OCHA 2011, 43).10  Complementing intra-organization initiatives, increasing inter-agency cooperation and programmes, notably pertaining to information and training have been established. Such programmes have been set up both in the field in challenging environments and at an administrative level. Examples of such initiatives are the UN Security Management System (or UNSMS), the Inter-Agency Security Management Network (or IASMN), the European Interagency Security Forum (EISF), the InterAction’s Security Advisory Group, the Afghanistan NGO Safety Office (ANSO) and the United Nations Department of Safety & Security’s (UNDSS) program Saving Lives Together.   Fourth, governments have also paid attention to and expressed concern about the security of humanitarian workers. Starting in the 1990s, the UN adopted scores of resolutions drawing attention to the security of humanitarian workers.11 The adoption of the UN Convention on the Safety of UN and Associated Personnel in 1994 and of its Optional                                                  8 For instance, Ferreiro shows how while in Afghanistan, major security incidents were correlated with proxies for the political and military intervention (and thus providing some support for the hypothesis that security incidents are a function of the militarization and politicization of aid), the size of the humanitarian enterprise better explains the occurrence of security incidents in Sudan (2012).  9 Interview with humanitarian expert Christina Wille, Geneva, 2012. 10 This is not to say that security issues were never discussed within humanitarian organizations prior to the end of the Cold War, but when such reflection occurred, it was sporadic and did not lead to widespread operational or organizational change (e.g. see ICRC 1942).  11 Examples of UN documents expressing concern for the security of humanitarian workers are: UN Security Council resolutions 819 (1993), 913 (1994) 1019 (1995), 1502 (2003) and 1674 (2009), UN General Assembly resolutions 46/242 (1992), 49/196 (1995) and 57/155(2002), UNGA 58/122 (2003).   7 Protocol in 2005 also speaks to governments’ commitment to the security of humanitarian workers.12 Moreover, some governments have inaugurated monuments honouring humanitarian workers and their sacrifice. One such monument, entitled Reflection, is located in Rideau Falls Park in Ottawa. An international day of commemoration – World Humanitarian Day – has also been designated by the General Assembly “in honour of aid workers, who have lost their lives in the line of duty” (UN n.d.d.). It is celebrated on August 19th, the date of an attack on the UN headquarters in Baghdad in 2003.13   Fifth, picking up on the widespread attention to the security of humanitarian workers, the business community has started developing security-related goods and services intended for humanitarian organizations (Smillie and Minear 2004, 8). Companies justify the value of their products by referring to past security incidents involving humanitarian workers. They have produced goods tailored for humanitarian workers, such as concealable body armour that allows them to retain a “non-confrontational, non-authoritative and peaceful” appearance, and “smart bracelets” to prevent the kidnapping and killing of aid workers (PPSS Group 2012; PFO Technologies 2013). These developments reflect and respond to observed trends of concern for the security of humanitarian workers (DuPont 2012).14   1.2. Surprising concern for the security of humanitarian workers   In light of the amount of attention it generates, the norm of humanitarian security thus represents a noteworthy development in international affairs. This development is also                                                  12 The UN Convention is examined in Chapter 3.  13 This incident and World Humanitarian Day are examined in Chapter 4.  14 The following statements from DuPont’s website further illustrate how business interests did not spur concerns about the security of humanitarian workers, but instead resulted from these new concerns: “Aegis, the designer and manufacturer of specialist body amour, has designed a vest specifically to meet the needs of the humanitarian sector. Due to the vest’s adaptability, it is increasingly popular among many UN agencies and is quickly becoming a vest of choice for the humanitarian sector. […]Steve Pope, Business Development Manager at Aegis, explains: “Many agencies in the humanitarian sector have commissioned Aegis to provide vests for their staff by developing an armour solution that was durable enough to be used across all operational theatres, whilst maintaining the flexibility to address future requirements. The development programme covered all three aspects of body armour design: soft armour, hard armour and outer carrier design. The results of the development programme were stunning, bringing the cutting edge of personal protection within the humanitarian sector and reiterating to their staff how valued they are.”  (DuPont 2012)    8 interesting to attend to because not all civilian actors’ security has garnered the same degree of attention. For instance, in the 1990s, there was a notable difference in concern for the security of humanitarian workers and that of media professionals. The uniqueness of the concern for the security of humanitarian workers during that period is illustrated in the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court, adopted in 1998. Article 8, clauses 2 b iii and e iii – the former applying to situations of international armed conflicts and the latter to armed conflicts not of an international character – prohibit attacks against “personnel, installations, material, units or vehicles involved in a humanitarian assistance […] mission.”15 The presence of these clauses is noteworthy because first, they are the only clauses that single out some actors from the broader category of civilians.16 Second, these clauses directly follow two clauses presenting the general prohibition of attacks against civilians and civilian objects thus clearly highlighting the protected status of these civilian actors. Third, from a legal perspective, clauses 2 b iii and e iii do not actually give additional legal protection to humanitarian workers involved in humanitarian assistance as they already benefit from the protection endowed to civilians. These clauses simply have a declaratory function, which Cottier argues is meant to emphasize the “exceptional seriousness” of the crime (Cottier 2008, 330). The perception that attacks against humanitarian workers constitute a particularly grave crime was also asserted on many occasions by participants at the conference of the State Parties (UN 1998).17 The particularity of the treatment of humanitarian workers is further highlighted in the ICC review conference rejecting Reporters Without Borders’ amendment project that aimed to single out the prohibition of attacks on the press in a clause (Balguy-Gallois 2010, 103).                                                   15 The clauses read as follow: “Intentionally directing attacks against personnel, installations, material, units or vehicles involved in a humanitarian assistance or peacekeeping mission in accordance with the Charter of the United Nations, as long as they are entitled to the protection given to civilians or civilian objects under the international law of armed conflict” (ICC 1998). 16 While clauses 2 b xxvi and e vii focus on children under 15, they do not reiterate the general prohibition of attacks against civilians and civilian objects but rather addresses an issue peculiar to this group, specifically their conscription, enlistment or use in hostilities. 17 For instance, Mr. Ibrahim from Nigeria argued for the inclusion of these crimes on the ground that they “were of as much concern to the international community as the four core crimes [genocide, crimes against humanity, war crimes and the crime of aggression]”. Mr. Zamir from Bangladesh claimed that “the Conference offered a rare opportunity for the international community to put in place a system of justice to redress unspeakable crimes. […] Attacks on humanitarian workers and international peacekeeping personnel should be included within the jurisdiction of the Court” (UN 1998). This last declaration points to an oft-repeated feature of the ICC, which specifies it should: “deal with only the most serious crimes of concern for the international community” (UN 1998 (emphasis added by the author)).   9 These different levels of consideration in the 1990s is surprising because these categories of actors were experiencing similar levels of victimization.18 For instance, while the Aid Worker Security Database records 164 humanitarian workers killed between 1997 and 2000, the Committee to Protect Journalists documents 170 media professionals’ casualties during the same period (CPJ 2012; Humanitarian Outcomes 2012).19 Also, humanitarian workers and media professionals are valuable and interesting to compare considering that first, these actors work in similar environments and thus face similar types of risks; second, both categories of actors aim, albeit through different means and among other motives, to improve the living conditions of populations living in challenging environments,20 and third, the relationship of humanitarian workers and media professionals is often depicted as one of co-dependence (Kalshoven and van Reesema 1989, 203; Lindijer 1989, 83-4; Moreels 1989, 45; Terry 2002, 230; Micheletti 2010, 6; Barnett and Weiss 2011, 18; 73-4).21   Moreover, the norm of humanitarian security constitutes a fascinating development to examine because humanitarian workers constitute a category of actor that remains underspecified and that performs work that has for many years faced powerful critique.22                                                  18 I further develop this difference in concern for the security of humanitarian workers and media professionals in the 1990s in Chapter 3.   19 I use the period 1997-2000 to compare these actors’ levels of victimization because 1997 constitute the first year about which the Aid Worker Security Database has data.  20 For instance, the Santa Cruz massacre of November 12 1991 spurred international outcry, grass-roots activism and diplomatic initiatives because it was filmed by foreign journalists (Kennedy 2004, 86). In his comprehensive study of civilian immunity, Bellamy also shows how access to reliable information constitutes a key factor affecting external reactions to mass atrocities (Bellamy 2012). Also, the 1994 Development Assistance Committee (DAC) Chairman Report highlights the media effect on humanitariran aid. It reads: “The spread of television and reporting by satellite have made it possible to provide audiences in industrial countries with graphic images of large-scale human misery. This has raised the awareness of western audiences to disasters situations and increased public donations to relief efforts. At the same time it has influenced the approach to disasters, sometimes promoting expensive gestures which relieve the sufferings of a few individuals but divert attention from the difficult political and technical work needed to relieve the situation as a whole.” (quoted in Minear, Scott and Weiss 1996, 7)  21 De Waal even describes journalists as being part of the “humanitarian international” (De Waal 1997, xv). In their study of media and humanitarian action, Minear, Scott and Weiss characterize the relationship between the news media and humanitarian action as “un undeniable mutuality of influence: The news media influence the pace, scale, locus, and duration of action mounted by humanitarian actors. Conversely, those actors alert the media to breaking stories, provide them with first-hand accounts of what is taking place, and even arrange access for journalists to otherwise unreachable destinations and overnight food and accommodations in war zones” (1996, 45).  22 While I mainly focus on the case of media professionals, some researchers also documented how the security of humanitarian workers garners more attention than the security of medical workers (Rubinstein   10 All things being equal, one would expect these issues to weaken the special level of concern for humanitarian workers’ security. To highlight this puzzle, I briefly present these two elements.   Humanitarian workers constitute an ambiguous category of actors for which there is no agreed-upon definition. This is not surprising considering that the term “humanitarian” itself is very vague (Minear and Weiss 1995, 18-21; Donini 2010, 220-225).23 Commitment to alleviating human suffering is often seen as the nucleus of humanitarianism (Hoffman and Weiss 2006, 2; Donini 2010, 220-21). Even in its judgement in Nicaragua v. the United States, which required attending to the meaning and scope of humanitarian action, the International Court of Justice (ICJ) failed to provide a clear definition. Rather, the ICJ relied on the Red Cross as a benchmark and its judgement reads: In the view of the Court, if the provision of “humanitarian assistance” is to escape condemnation as an intervention in the internal affairs of Nicaragua, not only must it be limited to the purposes hallowed in the practice of the Red Cross, namely “to prevent and alleviate human suffering”, and “to protect life and health and to ensure respect for the human being”; it must also, and above all, be given without discrimination to all in need in Nicaragua, not merely to the contras and their dependents (ICJ 1986, 125).24  The ICRC principles of independence, impartiality, neutrality and humanity are often used and treated as forming the basic standards of humanitarian action. Yet, their definition and applicability to “new wars” has been the object of discussions over the years (Weiss and Hoffman 2006, 82). Also, adding to this already confusing state of affairs, humanitarian organizations come in a variety of size and type: from highly institutionalized with multi-million dollar budgets and working in numerous                                                                                                                                                  and Biddle 2010, 329). Yet, this situation may change with the recent ICRC project “Health Care in Danger” (which draws attention to access to health care) (ICRC 2014) and with the attention to this issue brought by the conflict in Syria (e.g. see Cumming-Bruce, Nick. 2013. “U.N. Reports Syria Uses Hospital Attacks as a ‘Weapon of War’.” The New York Times, September 13.) 23 The extreme ambiguousness of the term “humanitarian” does not only constitute an academic problem but also one with important “practical” implications. For instance, in their study of Afghanistan, Benelli et al. lamented this ambiguity owing to its impact on the ability to assess the situation and its evolution. “Assessing and quantifying debilitating factors is hampered by a number of issues, including the paucity and unreliability of data and the lack of conceptual clarity on “what is humanitarian” – an eminently variable notion and one that has, over the years, been subjected to political manipulation”(Benelli et al. 2012, 5). 24 The legal sphere treats the Nicaragua case as providing the benchmark definition of humanitarian action (Interview with Law Professor Marco Sassòli, Geneva, 2012).    11 simultaneous crises to “mom and pop” organizations dedicated to one particular crisis (Minear and Weiss 1995, 157; Minear 2002, 80; Ferris 2005, 319). A multiplicity of definitions and criteria also populate the humanitarian field with some authors including, and others excluding – generally without much explanation – organizations that are faith-based, involved in development work, not intervening during armed conflicts, intervening in their own country, UN agencies, or not abiding by the humanitarian principles. Adding to the vagueness created by this definitional proliferation, news reports and academic and policy documents often fail to define whom they treat as humanitarian workers (Inter-Agency Standing Committee 2002; Smilie and Minear 2004, 192; Mackintosh 2007, 125-6; Humanitarian Outcomes 2010; Barnett 2011; Barnett and Weiss 2011, 10-11; Humanitarian Outcomes 2011). The label “humanitarian worker” is also assigned to a variety of actors. For example, management consulting firm J.E. Austin Associates’s contractor Warren Weinstein who was abducted in Pakistan in 2011 is constantly referred to in the news media as being an “aid worker.”25 Also, in his compilation of aid worker deaths, Dennis King listed a policeman and mine-clearing experts as “humanitarian aid workers” (Dennis 2002). Saying that the definition of humanitarian worker is equivocal would be an understatement.   The level of concern about the security of humanitarian workers is also surprising in light of the numerous critiques levelled against aid work.26 One such criticism is the almost                                                  25 For example, see 2012. Abbot, Sebastian. 2012. “Warren Weinstein, American Kidnapped in Pakistan, Asks for Israel for Help.” Huffington Post, September 12; 2013. “Warren Weinstein: Family of US hostage plead for return.” BBC, August 22. Another example of confusion can be found in a 2003 article in the NY Times on Afghanistan which reads, “In the fourth reported attack on Afghan government employees or aid workers in two days” (emphasis added). Rohde, David. 2003. “9 Afghan Police Officer are Killed in Attack by Insurgents.” New York Times, August 20.  26 Even if not specific to humanitarian work, Kennedy’s The Dark Sides of Virtue provides a critical view of humanitarian endeavours. The book examines humanitarian endeavour in a broad sense “to refer very generally to people who aspire to make the world more just, to the projects they have launched over the past century in pursuit of that goal, and to the professional vocabularies which have sprung up to defend and elaborate these projects” (Kennedy 2004, 236). Also, since the 1970s, the humanitarian domain has been criticized for sometimes producing harmful effects on host populations (Cooley and Ron 2002; Menkhaus 2010, 322-323). Among the main criticisms are accusations that humanitarian aid creates dependency of recipients on donors and feeds into and exacerbates conflicts. Minear explains the latter by writing: “through providing resources that are diverted to military purposes or through freeing up local assets that are then committed to military uses. External aid can strengthen the hand of economic actors with criminal agendas or with vested interests in sustaining a particular conflict. Protection of humanitarian operations purchased locally can fuel a conflict and lend an imprimatur to violence as means of social problem solving. Outside aid may fan tensions between beneficiaries and nearby local communities that are   12 complete lack of accountability of humanitarian work, which largely stems from the lack of professional standards in this industry. Not only can almost anyone can fashion him or herself a humanitarian worker but there is no formal accreditation mechanism for humanitarian organizations (Smillie and Minear 2004, 8; Donini 2004, 40; DeChaine 2005, 55).27 Humanitarian workers’ self-anointment has been much criticized, often because producing disastrous effects on beneficiary populations. For instance, Polman describes one MONGO (My Own NGO) composed of American medical students, who carried out, in a Liberian refugee camp, procedures they were not licensed to perform in the United States (2011, 48-94).28 Although some noteworthy best practices and codes of conduct have developed in recent years (e.g. Humanitarian Accountability Partnership, 2012; ALNAP 2012), they remain self-regulated and voluntary, and their application greatly vary (Terry 2002, 19).29 Also, only a limited number of humanitarian                                                                                                                                                  often excluded form emergency help” (2002, 157). Kenyon Lischer studied the conditions under which humanitarian assistance to refugees can exacerbate conflict and argues that the initial level of politicization or political cohesion of the refugee group and the state response to the crisis are central elements in explaining conflict (2003). Terry also analysed how humanitarian aid contributes to the war economy. She draws attention to the need to distinguish between types of contributions (ranging from legal, gray areas and illegal) and the level on which they occur namely macro, meso and micro (2002, 35). Anderson’s Do No Harm is a must-read on the impact of aid of conflict (1999). Humanitarian aid has also been critiqued for disrupting social and economic arrangements and its approach to famine to have “politically regressive implications” (De Waal 1997; Anderson 1998, 137-142; Minear 2002, 197; Büscher and Vlassenroot 2010; Human Rights First n.d.). Still, these critiques brought about limited change in the humanitarian sphere. De Waal famously qualified the international humanitarian system as having an “extraordinary capacity to absorb criticism, not reform itself, and yet emerge strengthened” (quoted in Hoffman and Weiss 2006, 198). Kennedy also documented the lack of pragmatic assessment of costs and benefits of humanitarian endeavours (2004).  27 A security expert captured this situation by saying: “Humanitarianism is akin to psychology in the 1910s and 1920s. There are some people doing it (Jung, Freud) but it is not an academic discipline. It is not a certified profession with standards you have to abide by, exams you have to pass, etc. It does not have an international or national board saying “these are the rules of the game, if you qualify with these requirements, then you are part of the club, if not, you get sanctioned and you get kicked out.” That’s what medical, bar exams are for. All sorts of professions have that. This one doesn’t. Anybody who wakes up and wants to join an organization can do so. There are no requirements apart from the recruitment process and it is most often defined by the urgent needs for staff, not competence. […] You cannot wake up one morning and say, I am going to help people with cancer, I am going to be a nurse, walking to a hospital and starting injecting people. You don’t do that. It’s not acceptable. You want to be a nurse, great. You go to nursing schools, you pass exams, then you are certified…and then you are a nurse. In this business, you can get up, join and go, and you can collect a million dollars here in the street and go run a hospital in the DRC. What is going on?”. (Interview with the author, Geneva, 2012)   28 She also describes the case of a retired health administrator from Kansas who performed operation diagnostic in Sierra Leone (Polman 2011, 48-94). 29 They have themselves been the object of criticisms in their own right (Hoffman and Weiss 2006). For instance, Terry writes: “The first and most serious shortcoming of the Sphere and Ombudsman projects is that they do not address the problems they claim to address; rather, they obscure the real problems and their sources. […] The Sphere guidelines do not refer to the legal or physical protection of civilians, but   13 organizations are part of such initiatives. As an illustration, as of November 2013, the Humanitarian Accountability Partnership-International, which aimed at improving accountability to beneficiaries, only had 70 NGOs as full members. This constitutes a minuscule fraction of the number of operational NGOs in the humanitarian sphere, which Stoddard estimated, in 2003, to range between 3,000 and 4,000 in the Western world alone (2003, 1). Training courses for humanitarian workers have also proliferated; but in the absence of accreditation mechanism and body, these have not yet significantly affected the dynamics of the humanitarian sphere.30 Also, the prohibitive costs and location of these training initiatives make them out of reach for the majority of humanitarian workers (mostly national staff).31   1.3. Argument  This project is divided into three parts, each illuminating an important dimension of the development of the norm of humanitarian security and of the humanitarian worker. Chapter 2 traces the origins and early development of the humanitarian worker. I argue that the humanitarian worker as a distinct category of actor officially entered the international scene in 1899, through its first mention in an international document, the 1899 Hague Convention. This recognition of a new category of actor stemmed from                                                                                                                                                  misleadingly equate the right to a certain level of technical assistance with protection. […] But pretending that the fulfilment of biological needs is a form of protection is dangerous. In Liberia and Somalia, combatants forcibly seized relief item from civilians after distribution; in the Democratic Republic of Congo, rebel forces followed aid vehicles at a distance and slaughtered refugees who emerged from hiding to receive aid. […] [T]he idea that the quality of humanitarian space can be measured in technical terms neglects crucial issues such as the conditions of access negotiated with combatants and the relationship between combatants and civilians in areas where aid agencies are working. The achievement of technical standards risks becoming an objective in itself. Sphere ignores the importance of evaluating the overall impact of aid: technical standards may be perfectly achieved, but they are counterproductive if they work against rather than for the victims. […] Moreover, Sphere, the codes of conduct, and the Ombudsman Project hand over means of control to the very powers from which aid agencies should strive for independence. Many donor governments have made adherence to these initiatives a prerequisite for funding. In the current climate, where the UN and donors increasingly bind humanitarian aid to peace and other political processes, it is not unreasonable to envisage the use of these standards as a way to marginalize aid organizations whose views do not conform to the prevailing discourse.” (2002, 51- 3)  30 As an illustration, the first Canadian conference on humanitarian action that took place in Ottawa in October 2013 witnessed much discussion on these issues. Among the accreditation initiatives discussed were the Steering Committee for Humanitarian Response Project and the Humanitarian Passport Initiative. Neither projects is operational yet.  31 I further discuss these limitations in Chapter 5.    14 concern for the treatment and care of prisoners of war (POWs). I examine humanitarian workers’ first steps during the Great War and show how they were not perceived as belonging to a common category of actor. Owing to the independent, disjointed and nationalist character of humanitarian action during World War I (WWI), these actors’ identity was rather closely associated with that of their organization and/or state, thus preventing the emergence of the norm of humanitarian security in these early years.  Chapter 3 examines the emergence and development of the norm of humanitarian security, which I situate at the end of the Cold War. This chapter covers the 1990s until the beginning of the War on Terror in 2001. I argue that the development of the norm of humanitarian security in the 1990s resulted from the convergence of three elements: (1) the growing recognition of humanitarian workers as forming a category of actor; (2) the increasing number of security incidents involving humanitarian workers; and (3) the international community’s commitment to the norm of humanitarian assistance. I argue that the rapid growth of the norm of humanitarian security in the 1990s mainly derived from its perception as a sine qua non for the realization of the norm of humanitarian assistance. The centrality of this commitment to humanitarian assistance stemmed from decades of normative evolution and from states’ use of delivery of humanitarian assistance as substitute for political action. As a result, throughout the 1990s, the norm of humanitarian security was mainly expressed through a consequentialist discourse where its violation was presented as problematic owing to its impact on the delivery of humanitarian assistance. Humanitarian workers were perceived as a category of actors and concern for their security was spurred by the nature and perception of their role. I examine the discourse on the norm of humanitarian security in the context of the war in Bosnia and Herzegovina. I complement this analysis by briefly attending to the norm’s treatment in the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court.   Chapter 4 examines the norm of humanitarian security in the context of the War on Terror. This period saw a strengthening of the norm of humanitarian security. Violations of the norm came to be perceived and depicted as wrong in and of themselves rather than due to their impact on aid programs. Reactions to security incidents also came to be   15 expressed through the prism of personal tragedy with increasing attention to the personal story of victimized humanitarian workers. I contend that a virtue ethics discourse came to replace the consequentialist discourse as means of expression of the norm of humanitarian security. I examine these dynamics in the context of another defining moment for the security of humanitarian workers: the bombing of the Canal Hotel in Baghdad in 2003 and one of its outcomes: World Humanitarian Day. I argue that this change in the norm of humanitarian security owed much to states’ changing paradigm of engagement in humanitarian affairs. While during the 1990s states provided humanitarian assistance as a substitute for decisive political action, they increasingly came to incorporate humanitarian action as part of their political and military strategies in the 2000s. This paradigmatic change, often crudely referred to as the growing politicization and militarization of humanitarian action, had the effect of gradually eclipsing the norm of humanitarian assistance. Moreover, I argue that three developments contributed to present security incidents through the prism of personal tragedy: (1) the post-9/11 culture of commemoration and the narrative of the War on Terror; (2) developments in media and technology which made security incidents more sensory experiences; and (3) the increasing familiarity of publics with humanitarian workers as individuals deriving from their use of new media.  I contend that the norm of humanitarian security constitutes a strong international norm. I argue it is an international norm because the international community at large, rather than only a small group of countries shares it.32 Having the United Nations General Assembly                                                  32  It is worth noting that the numerous instances of violations of the norm of humanitarian security in the Middle East and South-East Asia documented in Chapter 4 do not indicate a wholesale rejection of the norm in these regions. For instance, the case of Margaret Hassan, which I discuss in Chapter 4, highlights how reactions of outrage and condemnations to security incidents involving humanitarian workers are not limited to the West. Reactions to Hassan’s abduction also took place in Iraq where she worked. Following the release of the video of her alleged killing, numerous journalists reported on the reactions generated since Hassan’s abduction. For instance, a CNN article reads:  After she was taken hostage on October 19, protesters gathered outside CARE's Baghdad headquarters, carrying pictures of her and banners which called for the release of "Mama Margaret." Nasrat al-Asadi, a teacher at an Iraqi school for the deaf, brought about 30 pupils to the demonstration and told the UK's Press Association: "They all love her. She helped them with hearing aids besides reconstructing the institute." Hassan's abduction resulted in a wave of sympathy across the Islamic world, with many Web sites filled with messages deploring her kidnapping. (2004. “Tributes to Iraq’s mama Margaret.” November 17)   16 – the representative body of the organization – adopting scores of resolutions, a Convention and its Optional Protocol enshrining this norm is evidence of the widespread nature of the commitment to the norm of humanitarian security. Also, states plenipotentiaries representing the many regions of the world expressed their commitment to the security of humanitarian workers at the occasion of the Rome Conference. In the words of the Norwegian plenipotentiary, attacks against humanitarian personnel “indubitably touch the international community” (UN 1998).33 Also, I contend that the norm of humanitarian security is a strong norm. There is no standard list of criteria to precisely determine the strength of the norm. Rather, a norm’s strength runs along a continuum; at one end, there are very strong norms that are not violated; at the other end, there are weak norms that are systematically violated and for which violations do not spur much reaction. Thus, both behaviour and reactions to violations can be indicative of norm strength. The norm of humanitarian security does not stand at either end of the continuum. Rather, it is weaker than norms that are not violated but stronger than those which violation does not spur reactions and condemnations. Considering the considerable data limitations on security incidents involving humanitarian workers, which I discuss in Chapter 3, it is often not possible to ascertain why the norm of humanitarian security is violated. The sheer increase in the number of humanitarian workers acting worldwide and their involvement in increasingly risky environments rather than a disregard for the norm may be the reason for any apparent rise in violations of the norm. That is, the relative percentage of total humanitarian workers who are harmed at present might be no greater than previous eras but simply a function of increased numbers exposed to harm. Also, drawing on the civil war literature, Narang and Stanton explain security incidents in Afghanistan as a strategic response of armed groups for controlling civilian populations (2013). This shows how security incidents involving humanitarian workers do not happen incidentally (because of a lack of awareness of a norm) but rather take place because they serve a strategic purpose. This can only occur to the extent the norm is salient. Only using behaviour as a proxy for the strength of the norm of humanitarian security would not be                                                                                                                                                  This does not mean that the degree of adherence to the norm is uniform throughout the world. Still, despite potential disparity in terms of adherence, the norm of humanitarian security can legitimately be seen as being internationally shared. 33 The original reads “touchent indubitablement la communauté internationale” (UN 1998). The translation was made by the present author.    17 satisfactory. As a result, I mainly focus on reactions to the norm violation as means to assess and illustrate the norm’s strength over time. As the following chapters show, since the 1990s, security incidents involving humanitarian workers have prompted strong reactions of condemnation and critique, thereby substantiating the claim that the norm of humanitarian security is a strong norm.  1.3.1. Alternative explanations and responses to main critiques  In Chapter 3, I discuss two alternative explanations specific to the emergence of the norm of humanitarian security in the 1990s: (1) ascribing the growing concern for the security of humanitarian workers to an increasing number of security incidents involving humanitarian workers; (2) ascribing the growing concern for the security of humanitarian workers to an overall increasing concern for all the actors (e.g. peacekeepers) and institutions (e.g. international tribunals) involved in attending to the plight of civilian populations. Here I briefly attend to an overall critique of this research project, namely that the norm of humanitarian security does not constitute a significant development in international affairs. Despite the fact that the security of humanitarian workers has attracted a lot of academic and policy attention, led to the investment of resources in the security of humanitarian workers and the adoption of an array of legal documents condemning security incidents, critics may claim that the norm of humanitarian security is “just talk” and does not affect behaviour. Additionally, considering that humanitarian workers are regularly victims of security incidents, critics may argue that my claim to the presence of a strong norm of humanitarian security is unconvincing.  In response to the latter point, a norm violation does not negate a norm existence and/or its significance. Academics and policy makers pay attention to reactions to norm violations (Price 2004; Percy 2007a, 373-391; Percy 2007b, 35-37).34 If a norm violation does not spur condemnation and/or critique, one can indeed claim that the norm has                                                  34 The case of Syria and its chemical weapons is illustrative in that regard. See Price, Richard. 2013. “No Strike, No Problem: The Right Way to Reinforce the Taboo on Chemical Weapons.” Foreign Affairs, September 5; Price, Richard. 2013. “How Chemical Weapons Became Taboo.” Foreign Affairs, January 22.    18 minimal strength and acceptance. Yet, violations of the norm of humanitarian security are met with strong critiques and condemnations. For instance, as I discuss in Chapter 4, the bombing of the Canal Hotel in Baghdad in 2003 led to the recognition of an international day – World Humanitarian Day – to honour humanitarian workers and their sacrifice. Also, the undertaking of rescue missions to free abducted humanitarian workers evidences both how a norm violation does not disprove the presence of a norm and how the norm of humanitarian security shapes behaviour. The case of Linda Norgrove previously discussed illustrates this point. US efforts required significant investment in terms of time, money and troops. Also, the failed rescue mission prompted an investigation of the incident and led some soldiers being disciplined. Aware of the costs of US involvement, it is very unlikely the US government would have approved such actions in the absence of a strong norm of humanitarian security. It is also worth noting that Norgrove was not an American citizen, rather a UK citizen, thereby invalidating the claim that her rescue was simply a case of the rescue of nationals abroad.   1.4. Terminology  The norm of humanitarian security captures the notion that humanitarian workers’ security should not be violated. Building on Katzenstein’s foundational work, I use the concept of a norm “to describe collective expectations for the proper behavior of actors with a given identity” (1996a, 5).  I have termed the norm of interest “norm of humanitarian security” as a way of signalling that it is concerned with more than the protection of humanitarian workers.35 Protection is a legal concept that the ICRC explains as aiming “to ensure that authorities and other actors respect their obligations and the rights of individuals in order to preserve the safety, physical integrity and dignity of those affected by armed conflict and other situations of violence” (ICRC 2008, 752). International humanitarian law recognizes certain categories of actors as “protected persons” (e.g. prisoners of war in the 1949 Geneva Convention III; civilians on enemy territory in the 1949 Geneva Convention IV) to which protection activities can be                                                  35 I thank Dr. Robin Coupland for bringing to my attention the importance of this distinction.   19 extended to and cover.36 Although humanitarian workers are protected persons in international law, the abovementioned concern for their safety and well-being extends beyond solely their legal protection. Moreover, while this research attends to the legal status of humanitarian workers and to their legal protection, its focus is not limited to the legal domain. Hence, capturing the entirety of this concern requires adopting a broader term: security. This phrase was also selected because it follows the terminology already used in the literature and in common parlance. Consistency and clarity are important for fostering dialogue in the field, and for engaging with humanitarian organizations and the policy world (Martin 1999, 4; Fast 2007, 138; Humanitarian Outcomes 2012).    While it may appear weighty, I prefer the term security incident to the term attack, because it is a broader concept and thus more apt to capture different types of vulnerabilities experienced by humanitarian workers. For instance, it can encompass situations where humanitarian workers are victimized incidentally (e.g. a bomb exploding in a market where humanitarian workers were present), as well as instances where it is unclear whether or not humanitarian workers were intentionally targeted. Moreover, the term security incident is used by humanitarian workers and by both databases reporting on the security of humanitarian workers: the Aid Worker Security Database (AWSD) and Insecurity Insight (e.g. Olson 1999, 84, 89, 97).37 As I will make use of the AWSD’s data, employing the same terminology is useful. The Aid Worker Security Database defines “major incidents” as “killings, kidnappings, and armed attacks that result in serious injury.” (Humanitarian Outcomes 2012) I adopt the AWSD’s definition because the database provides more detailed data than Insecurity Insight’s and allows the user to select search criteria such as year, country, feature of staff.                                                    36 The ICRC’s involvement in protection is multidimensional and covers responsive actions (to deal with an emerging protection problem), remedial action (to restore the dignity of individuals having experienced violation), and environment-building (to establish an environment conducive to the respect of rights of protected persons) (ICRC 2008, 759).  37 Insecurity Insight’s definition of “security incident” involves “threats and incidents of violence affecting aid workers (kidnapping, death, and injuries) and impediments to aid delivery and access (e.g. damage to infrastructure or supplies and the impact of insecurity on access for humanitarian agencies)” (Wille and Fast 2013b, 3).   20 Throughout this research, I prefer the term “media professionals” to “journalists.” Using media professionals allows sidestepping definitional issues linked to the terms “journalist” and “war correspondent.” While the latter constitutes a legally sanctioned term and category of actor, few in the media profession seem to be au fait with this distinction (Tumber and Webster 2006, 61-63). As an illustration, reporter Ross Benson wrote: “My newspaper calls me a war correspondent when I’m covering a war, and when I’m not covering a war, they don’t” (quoted in Tumber and Webster 2006, 61). Also, the term media professionals is valuable because it constitutes a broad term encompassing a range of journalistic roles such as photographer and cameraperson (Feinstein 2006, 8).  This research does not start with a pre-given definition of humanitarian worker. Doing so would run counter to this project’s aim of inquiring into the origins and meaning of this actor and her security norm as it would presuppose consistency in meaning. Rather, in each chapter, I examine the way in which humanitarian workers are perceived.   A central actor in my research is the Red Cross and Red Crescent Movement, which is composed of the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC), the International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies (previously termed the League of Red Cross Societies), and National Societies. To make the reading of the forthcoming chapters less cumbersome, I use the term Red Cross when referring to the whole movement, and use the specific terms such as the ICRC and National Societies when only referring to these components.   Finally, building on Hoffman and Weiss’s work, I use the expressions humanitarian enterprise, humanitarian system and humanitarian sphere interchangeably, and see them as being comprised of norms (humanitarian ethics), legal institutions (international humanitarian law) and operational institutions (humanitarian organizations) (2006, 11).   1.5. State of the literature and the contribution of this research     21 My research engages with and contributes to a number of areas of scholarly literature, principally: studies on humanitarianism; literature on norms; and also work on the security of humanitarian workers.  1.5.1. Humanitarianism  The first area of scholarly literature my research engages is studies on humanitarianism. Michael Barnett’s critique of the neglect of humanitarianism as an object of study has been heard and significantly attended to in the last decade (2005a, 726). Complementing issue-specific projects, a number of scholars recently attended to tracing the history of humanitarianism (Ryfman 2008; Barnett 2011; Barnett and Weiss 2011). My research engages with this new literature but adopts a different analytic focus: the humanitarian worker instead of humanitarianism or humanitarian organizations (Hutchinson 1996; Forsythe 2005). While existing work sometimes examines renowned humanitarian actors, such as Eglantyne Jebb, founder of Save the Children or Henry Dunant, forefather of the ICRC, no systematic study of the humanitarian worker as an actor has been undertaken. Illuminating the origins, meaning and evolution of the notion of humanitarian worker constitutes one of the main contributions of my research.  This analytical focus on the humanitarian worker is not only valuable in its own right but also because it furthers our understanding of the history of humanitarianism and developments in the humanitarian sphere. In terms of approach, my research follows the work of Barnett, Weiss and Paras, as I am treating the humanitarian worker in active interplay with the normative and political environments rather than in isolation (Barnett and Weiss 2008; Paras 2010; Barnett 2011; Barnett and Weiss 2011).38 Such an approach is intellectually important for averting the fallacy of examining norms in a vacuum (Finnemore 2004, 57). It also allows for connecting the development of the norm of                                                  38 Barnett and Weiss present a particularly elegant and convincing argument in situating humanitarianism in relation to the forces of destruction, production and salvation (Barnett and Weiss 2008; Barnett and Weiss 2011; Barnett 2011).   22 humanitarian security to developments in the humanitarian sphere.39 This exercise is not only important because of its novel nature but also because it produces a richer understanding of the evolution of the humanitarian sphere. For instance, in Chapter 3 and 4, I show how changes in states’ engagement in humanitarian affairs – from provision of humanitarian assistance as substitute for political action to the inclusion of humanitarian action in states’ political and military arsenals – shaped the framing of the norm of humanitarian security. Attending to the interplay between the norm of humanitarian security and the trends and developments in the humanitarian sphere constitutes another valuable contribution of my research. This exercise also prompts my research to adopt the same general periodization as the literature on humanitarianism.  Moreover, my research engages with the analytical and critical literature on humanitarian aid. This body of research illuminates the main debates and issues affecting the humanitarian sphere (e.g. the “do not harm” debate following the Rwandan genocide) (De Waal 1994, 1997; Anderson 1999; Rieff 2002; Terry 2002; Kenyon Lischer 2003; Büscher and Vlassenroot 2010). It is thus highly instructive of the development of the humanitarian system. Also, the critical literature on humanitarian aid’s main contribution has been to prompt reflection on and identify the implications and hidden costs of humanitarian action. I principally draw on and contribute to this literature in Chapter 5 where I examine the implications of the development of the norm of humanitarian security.   1.5.2. Constructivim and the Literature on Norms  I also engage deeply with the constructivist literature as it constitutes the main theoretical framework shaping my research.40 Within the span of less than two decades, the grounds of debate in IR theory have significantly changed. The field of IR theory has been the                                                  39 Work presenting and analyzing trends in the humanitarian sphere (e.g. professionalization, growing number of actors) are particularly helpful for comprehending this interplay (Kent 2004; Smillie and Minear 2004). 40 The author is aware that other theoretical approaches, such as the English School, have examined the role of norms. Still, considering that the bulk of the recent research on norms has been produced by constructivists and that the genealogical method used in this research shares an affinity with constructivism, this discussion will only focus on the constructivist literature on norms.    23 scene of “debates” since its inception and one of the more recent major debates – opposing rationalism to reflectivism created greater space for new approaches.41 One such approach that travelled from the margins of IR theory to being an increasingly accepted and recognized approach to the study of international relations is constructivism.42 The study of norms also underwent a remarkable development during this same period as scholarly literature greatly expanded, both in terms of the number of studies produced, and in its sophistication. Initially concerned with showing the limitations of mainstream approaches in illuminating certain issues, and demonstrating that “norms matter,” the constructivist literature on norms moved on to distinguish between different functions of norms (e.g. regulative, constitutive and evaluative), and examined how and which norms matter, and their “life cycle.” This scholarship’s successful engagement with a variety of issues, including matters of “high politics” (e.g. state interests, weapon use), compelled proponents of mainstream approaches to increasingly recognize the value of attending to norms (Finnemore 1996; Katzenstein 1996b; Legro 1997; Price 1997; Finnemore and Sikkink 1998; Keohane 2000). Given these developments, instead of reiterating the broader arguments of “whether and how norms matter,” I instead choose to focus on the specific elements from this body of literature that my research engages as will be detailed in what follows.   My project on the norm of humanitarian security builds on, and notably contributes to, constructivist research on norms and law. Why constructivism? My research fits particularly well within this area of scholarly literature concerned with the social construction of world politics given that “[u]nderstanding how identities are constructed, what norms and practices accompany their reproduction, and how they construct each other is a major part of the constructivist research program” (Hopf 1998, 192). Hopf’s words precisely capture the essence of this research, since, in each chapter, I attend to the                                                  41 This debate between rationalism and reflectivism is usually seen as the “4th debate” in IR theory and was preceded by debates opposing realism and liberalism, traditionalism and behaviouralism, and neorealism and neoliberalism. 42 A comprehensive presentation of constructivism is beyond the scope of this project. I refer interested readers to the following works, listed in order of increasing complexity: Barnett 2005; Price and Reus-Smit 1998; and Reus-Smit 2005. Also worthy of mention are Finnemore and Sikkink who engage with the issue of norm development (1998), and Price who discusses the constructivist contribution to ethical theorizing (2008a, 2008b.)    24 norm of humanitarian security in concert with how the humanitarian worker is portrayed and perceived. Considering how the recognition of the humanitarian worker as an actor emerged out of concern for the treatment of POWs, I also attend to the construction of POWs as a category of concern. To do so, I build on the work on transnational civil society (TCS) and its findings on advocacy and issue adoption (Finnemore 1996; Price 1998; Khagram, Riker and Sikkink 2002; Price 2003).   My research also deeply engages with and contributes to the literature on avenues of norm development (Florini 1996; Finnemore and Sikkink 1998; Checkel 1999; Checkel 2005; Gilardi 2012). The development of the norm of humanitarian security did not follow a single avenue of norm development but rather incorporated different avenues such as the role of key individuals, systemic sources and mechanisms at the societal level thus making the norm of humanitarian security a very interesting case for the norms literature (Price 1998, 616). A norm entrepreneur played a role at the beginning of this normative development (the Société Internationale de Secours pour les Prisonniers de guerre) but no norm entrepreneur steered and championed the development of the norm of humanitarian security throughout its history. Systemic sources played a more prominent role in this development. Important systemic factors were “contingencies of history,” change in states paradigm of engagement in humanitarian affairs and the norm’s coherence with existing norms. I engage the literature on norms as means to understand the normative environment in which the norm of humanitarian security developed (Finnemore 1996; Florini 1996, 376-377; Wippman 2004, 158; Finnemore 2008, 198). Attending to this literature was important considering how “norms are not continually re-created from scratch; rather, at any stage in history states operate within a pre-existing normative context that is both the product of past processes and the starting point for future ones.” (Thomas 2001, 33) Also, by drawing attention to and providing the first account of the norm of humanitarian security, my research makes an important contribution to the literature on norms. Furthermore, at the societal level, the United Nations played an important role in shaping discussions on the security of humanitarian workers in the post-2001 period.     25 In order to better understand the development of the norm of humanitarian security, I also identify the presence and role of mechanisms in this normative evolution. In chapter 2, the mechanism of grafting played a key role in the recognition of POWs as a category of concern, while the rationalist mechanism of reciprocity was frequently essential in allowing relief workers to carry out their work during the First World War. As discussed above, the mechanism of grafting played a significant role in the development and prominence of the norm of humanitarian security in the post-Cold War years. During the War on Terror, the mechanism of empathy contributed to the strengthening and framing of the norm of humanitarian security.  Given the recent use of legal instruments to express and highlight the international community’s commitment to the norm of humanitarian security, my project briefly engages with the literature examining the relationship between norms, law and politics (Herczegh 1998; Finnemore 2000; Finnemore and Toope 2001; Reus-Smit 2004b; Smillie and Minear 2004). Principally, my project speaks to studies attending to the relationship between the strength of norms and law such as Percy’s work on mercenaries (2007a; 2007b). She demonstrates how the weak law pertaining to mercenaries results from the international community’s deep commitment to the norm against the use of mercenaries (Percy 2007b, 387). The case of humanitarian workers reveals a different interplay between norms and law, which I further discuss in Chapter 5. The norm of humanitarian security is the case of a strong norm that benefits from a strong law.   In the coming chapters, I take up two further concerns expressed in the constructivist literature that also underscore the importance of examining the norm of humanitarian security. First, addressing Legro and Kowert’s argument on the importance of examining variations in degrees of “success” of norms, I examine the norm of humanitarian security in conjunction with the norm pertaining to the security of media professionals (Kowert and Legro 1996, 485). While not exhaustive, examining the evolution of these two norms is instructive in identifying the forces accounting for the particular development of the norm of humanitarian security. I discuss the treatment of the security of media professionals at the end of Chapter 3 and Chapter 4. This allows for enhancing the   26 confidence in these chapters’ argument. Second, I take up the ethical engagement of some constructivist scholars by examining the broader effects produced by the norm of humanitarian security (Price 2003; Price 2008a; Rumelili 2008). I reflect on the implications of this norm development in Chapter 5.   Even if my research displays a particularly good fit with the constructivist literature, both in terms of the insight and guidance it provides and from my own contribution, one may ask “Why not using another approach”? I do recognize that one can tell the story of the norm of humanitarian security using a feminist (or, more generally, gender), critical, and Marxist (or neo-Gramscian) lens, just to name a few. Each approach would provide a different narrative reflecting their ontological, methodological and epistemological inclination. Documenting and presenting these different stories constitutes an endeavour I welcome my peers to also undertake. While recognizing the gains that may be derived from being theoretically pluralist (or eclectic), the novel nature of this project advises adopting one main approach (Sil and Katzenstein 2010). Given that no study of the humanitarian worker has yet been undertaken, this project requires the analysis and organization of a significant amount of information and data. Still, while I pay particular attention to constructivism, the research incorporates insights from other approaches when need be. As discussed, the rationalist mechanism of reciprocity played a role in humanitarian action during the First World War with belligerents mainly accepting the interventions of relief workers on the basis of reciprocity. I believe that flagging the role of non-constructivist mechanism does not affect the epistemological or ontological coherence of this project while painting the most comprehensive picture of the development of the norm of humanitarian security.   1.5.3. Security of humanitarian workers  Finally, my research clearly engages with the literature on the security of humanitarian workers. While this body of work is comprised of both policy-oriented and academic work, its contributors all adopt as a starting point the notion that humanitarian workers are inviolate actors. This is not surprising in light of the strength of the norm, the increase   27 in the number of security incidents involving humanitarian workers and the fact that this literature mainly developed in reaction to a deterioration of the security of humanitarian organizations (Finnemore and Sikkink 1998, 892; Percy 2007b, 373; Renouf 2011, 14).43 For instance, the most recent Humanitarian Outcomes report reveals that while 2012 experienced a slight decrease in the number of aid workers affected by security incidents – from 308 in 2011 to 272 victims in 2012 – the year 2012 recorded a record high number of major attacks (167) (Humanitarian Outcomes 2013). Also, since 2000, security incidents involving humanitarian workers have increased. While 42 incidents were recorded in 2000, it rose to 129 in 2010, and reached 272 in 2012 (Humanitarian Outcomes 2011, 2012b, 2013). Unsurprisingly, these trends direct attention to examining the cause of recent incidents and proposing solutions, rather than attending to the meaning and origins of this notion of humanitarian workers as inviolate actors. Yet, addressing this prior question is also important. My project provides researchers attending to the security of humanitarian workers with a deeper and more historically based understanding of their object of study. A sound comprehension of the past trajectory of the norm, in terms of influential factors and actors, is central for insights into, and means to act, on its future. Not only does my research contribute to this field of research but it also uses this body of work as evidence of the evolution of concern about the security of humanitarian workers.   As I discuss in details in Chapter 3, while the growing number of security incidents in the 1990s contributed to the growing prominence of the norm of humanitarian security in the post-Cold War years, it alone cannot fully account for the development of the norm of humanitarian security. Notably, this trend is unable to illuminate the norm development’s timing and evolution. Also, accounting for the development of the norm of humanitarian security by the frequency of its violation prevents one from understanding how humanitarian workers came to be perceived as inviolate actors in the first place, as well as how and why humanitarian workers’ security has garnered more attention than other civilian actors’ such as media professionals.                                                   43 While this may appear contradictory or paradoxical, reactions to violations of the norm clearly indicate the norm’s strength.    28  1.6. Method, Data and Organization of the research  Tracing a genealogy of the humanitarian worker as inviolate actor consists of attending to the history of the present. Bartelson explains that a “genealogy is strategically aimed at that which looks unproblematic and is held to be timeless; its task is to explain how these present traits, in all their vigour and truth, were formed out of the past” (1995, 73). This idea resonates with this project, which attends to the little scrutinized notion that humanitarian workers’ security should not be violated. Studies such as Price on chemical weapons (1997) and Kinsella on the principle of civilian immunity (2011) have showed the value and appropriateness of the genealogical approach in illuminating the development of norms. Tracing a genealogy of this norm allows for understanding the origins, meaning, and forces behind the development of this moral interpretation. Price best captures the essence of this project when writing: “[t]his interpretive question of understanding requires a descriptive account of the meanings that constitute the norm, one which makes clear the appeal of such ideas” (Price 1994, 27-28). Thus, this research aims to do more than trace a history of the humanitarian worker: it also aims to present an account of the construction of the humanitarian worker as inviolate actor and the meaning underlying this development. However, shedding light on “how we got here” does not involve the reconstruction of a linear narrative. As Foucault contends: [t]o follow the complex course of descent is to maintain passing events in their proper dispersion; it is to identify the accidents, the minute deviations – or conversely, the complete reversals – the errors, the false appraisals, and the faulty calculations that gave birth to those things that continue to exist and have value for us (1984, 81).  This research is divided in three parts, each covering a period highlighting a valuable piece in understanding the development of the norm of humanitarian security. Chapter 2 traces the origins and first steps of the humanitarian worker. It starts by examining the episode of Solferino and the founding of the ICRC in 1863 because as argued by Bartelson:  For every inquiry must depart from somewhere, from a point that is self-evident or at least held to be unproblematic, and since the present inquiry has for its object precisely such points of agreement, it will consequently set these points in motion, expose them to contingency, and deprive them of their unproblematic status (1995, 4).    29 In virtue of being the modern humanitarianism founding myth, the episode of Solferino (as will be elaborated in Chapter 2) constitutes a valuable starting point for this inquiry. Examining this instance reveals that contrary to what would be expected, the humanitarian worker, as a distinct category of actor, did not emerge at that time. Only in 1899, did state plenipotentiaries gathered at The Hague recognize the presence and work of a new actor in warfare. I detail this development and the forces that made it possible before examining the first steps of this newly recognized actor during the First World War. This moment was selected because it constituted the first major conflict since the recognition of the humanitarian worker in the 1899 Hague Convention and thus allows for an examination of the impact of this legal recognition.   Chapter 3 focuses on the period starting with the end of the Cold War until 2001, which saw the growing prominence of the norm of humanitarian security. I start with a brief overview of the humanitarian developments since the end of WWI to historicize how the norm of humanitarian security came to emerge in the 1990s. To understand the meaning of the norm of humanitarian security in that period, I examine a “defining moment:” the war in Bosnia and Herzegovina. Price defines defining moments as “events of particular importance which provide discursive moments characterized by burst of rich debate and which represent discussions of the crucial dimension of the [norm]” (Price 1997, 10). Numerous studies have shown the value of examining defining moments to understand norm development (e.g. Price 1997; Paras 2010; Kinsella 2011). The Bosnian conflict was selected because it witnessed a high level of violence against humanitarian workers and it occurred early in the decade, which allowed for capturing the initial forces underlying the norm’s development. I provide a comprehensive justification of this defining moment selection in the chapter. I complement the analysis of this defining moment by briefly examining the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court. Attending to this legal document is valuable because it enshrines particular concern for the security of humanitarian workers. Moreover, while dividing the chapters into historical periods obviously does not hermetically capture phenomena and processes, it is methodologically useful for exploring the impact of the normative and political environments. It is also appropriate and valuable as it allows for superimposing the   30 narrative of the humanitarian worker onto the narrative of humanitarianism to highlight their interplay and distinctiveness (Kinsella 2011, 10).   Chapter 4 covers the period from 2001 to 2012 and examines the strengthening of the norm of humanitarian security. This chapter begins in 2001 because it constitutes the start of the America’s “War on Terror” and the literature on humanitarianism treats this period as displaying distinct characteristics such as increased politicization and militarization of humanitarian aid. I examine one defining moment: the bombing of the Canal Hotel in Baghdad in 2003. This attack constitutes the first main security incident of the War on Terror and significantly affected the humanitarian sphere. Notably, it led to significant security changes within the UN system and the adoption of its date to celebrate World Humanitarian Day.   I use the conclusion as a means to theoretically and empirically reflect on the findings presented in the previous pages. I present how this research contributes to different bodies of literature and discuss the implications and meaning of this norm development. This responds to the genealogical approach’s concern for power and for the effects and meaning of seemingly innocuous norms and practices. In particular, I examine what it exposes about the unequal value accorded to human life.    The genealogical approach requires a vast amount of source material, which prompted gathering data from a variety of sources. First, I use a variety of primary documents. I examined legal documents and conventions, as well as the minutes of conferences and meetings during which the humanitarian worker was discussed. I also attended to memoirs written by humanitarian actors and other actors involved in the defining moments under study. I also analyzed reports and internal documents of humanitarian organizations. I accessed a portion of these documents by consulting the archives of the ICRC and the League of Nations in Geneva in 2012. Second, I conducted interviews with humanitarian workers, and security and legal experts during two research trips: the first in the Democratic Republic of the Congo in 2010 and the second in Geneva in 2012.44 I also                                                  44 A list of interviewees is provided in Appendix A.   31 communicated with humanitarian organizations and legal experts via email and phone. Third, as means to capture the portrayal of humanitarian workers and the norm of humanitarian security, I examined media reporting of the defining moments. I also relied on media to document trends in media reporting and framing. Finally, I analyzed scholarly and historical works attending to humanitarian work and conflicts.    Chapter 2: The first steps of the humanitarian worker  In order to comprehend the development of the norm of humanitarian security, it is necessary first to give adequate attention to the subject of the norm: the humanitarian worker.  My purpose in this chapter is to trace the emergence of the humanitarian worker as a new actor. This constitutes a challenging endeavour given the ambiguity of the term “humanitarian” and the state of flux of humanitarianism, which prevents identifying a priori certain elements one currently associates with humanitarian workers and tracking their presence over time. Assuming continuity in humanitarian work would display a contemporary bias, and would shed little light on the forces that made the development of the humanitarian worker possible (Percy 2007b, 50; Ryfman 2008, 4-5; Barnett and Weiss 2011, 104). There is also changing terminology to contend with: over time, the humanitarian worker has been referred to as an “aid worker,” a “relief worker” and, as this chapter shows, originally a “delegate of relief society.” Furthermore, understanding what constitutes the humanitarian worker as an actor requires focussing on more than the just the mere performance of humanitarian acts (which has never been the exclusive sphere of one category of actor). The difference between humanitarian acts and humanitarian actors is observable today. Humanitarian aid is provided by various types of actors, such as employees of private companies and members of the armed forces, who are not considered to be humanitarian workers. The peculiarity of the humanitarian worker thus precludes taking the history of humanitarianism and of the humanitarian worker as interchangeable. While adding a layer of complexity to my study, the distinctiveness of these narratives makes it possible to attend to their relationship and thus produces a richer understanding of humanitarian developments.   I start by examining the founding myth of modern humanitarianism: the episode of Solferino. This episode encompasses the battle of Solferino, Henry Dunant’s experience of its aftermath, and the creation of the ICRC and the 1864 Geneva Convention as a result. Given that modern humanitarian workers consider Henry Dunant’s life to be a “master narrative” to model their own actions after and also consider Solferino as “the moment that started it all,” the founding myth of Solferino is a logical place to start my   33 inquiry (Sørensen 2006, 4-5). Wortel expresses the importance of this moment, writing: “[Solferino] play[s] an important role in the broader humanitarian discourse as well. In a way, [it] produced ‘its founding past, its identity and its projections for the future’” (Wortel 2009, 780-781). A more detailed examination of this episode, however, reveals that Solferino was not the birthplace of the “humanitarian worker” as a concept. I argue that the idea that the humanitarian worker might constitute a distinct category of actor officially can in fact be traced to the 1899 Hague Convention. Nevertheless, the episode of Solferino was instrumental in this outcome as it contributed to the emergence of prisoners of war (POWs) as a category of concern. And it was concern for POWs that supported the emergence of the humanitarian worker.    In advance of my critics I acknowledge that, by starting with Solferino and framing it as humanitarianism’s founding myth, the account of the humanitarian worker I provide is Euro-centric. While I argue that the international institutionalization of humanitarian rules and practices witnessed in Solferino was unique to Europe, I also recognize that these rules and practices have counterparts in other traditions. I provide a brief survey of these traditions at the start of my discussion.  This chapter is divided into six sections as follows. First, I briefly sketch how the humanitarian developments that coalesce in Solferino were not unique to the Occident. In the second section, I examine the founding myth of Solferino and show how it did not mark the emergence of the humanitarian worker. Third, I present the 1899 Hague Convention, which recognizes this new actor. Fourth, I examine the precedents that made this recognition possible, namely the construction of POWs as a category of concern. Here, I show how this development owed much to the ICRC and its successful construction of wounded soldiers as a category of concern. Sections two, three and four shed light on the emergence of the humanitarian worker, whose modern history has so far been overlooked. In the fifth section, I attend to the First World War and to the first steps of the delegate of relief society for POWs. This period reveals two important elements. First, despite their recognition as a new internationally recognized actor in wartime, delegates of relief societies were not perceived as forming a single category of actor. The   34 independent, disjointed and nationalist nature of humanitarian action during the Great War hindered the emergence of a common identity. Instead, the identities of these actors remained closesely tied to that of their organization. Second, the scope of humanitarian action expanded to include relief to civilians and was performed by actors lacking legal recognition. They were similar to delegates of relief society for POWs in most respects except for their domain of action and legal recognition. Sixth, I provide a short conclusion.   2.1. Humanitarian developments around the world   While the overarching focus of this chapter is on the impact of developments in Europe on the concept of the humanitarian worker, the question naturally arises of the views and practices elsewhere and their impact. I briefly outline how the humanitarian norms, practices and limitations on the conduct of warfare that converged and were institutionalized in Solferino had counterparts outside of Europe. My aim here is not to provide a comprehensive survey of the history of humanitarianism in all of the world’s traditions and civilizations.  Rather, I simply want to highlight a few key developments so as to acknowledge that the essential components of the modern humanitarian system are not solely derived from the European experience.45 Additional readings are suggested for interested readers.     Instances of humanitarian acts have been recorded throughout history and civilizations (Wilson and Brown 2009, 1). One of the oldest example dates back to Ancient Egypt. Harkhuf, the governor of Upper Egypt during the sixth dynasty (c. 2290-70 BCE) had his                                                  45 It is also worth noting how the European tradition has seen its rules concerning the conduct of warfare greatly develop from the times of ancient Greece and Rome. In both these civilizations, the foreigner was considered a barbarian unworthy of living in freedom. Although sporadic acts of humanity were recorded, these were the exception. In the Occident, the conduct of war became gradually more humane, as exemplified by the improvements in the treatment of prisoners and wounded in Rome compared to Greece. However, these practices took place against a background of widespread violence and barbarity (Riad 1929; Douzinas 2007). Although the emergence of Christian theology brought about the conception of all men being spiritually part of spiritual humanity, this did not translate in a thoroughly more “humane” conduct of war (Douzinas 2007, 2). As an illustration, in the Middle Ages, armies paid little attention to their own wounded and generally killed their enemies’ wounded. When wounded soldiers were spared, it was for the purpose of obtaining ransom and not based on humanitarian principles.   35 tomb walls recording his humanitarian accomplishments: “I gave bread to the hungry, clothing to the naked. I ferried him who had no boat” (quoted in Walker and Maxwell 2009, 14). In addition to individual humanitarian acts, providing succour and help to the less fortunate has been an integral part of numerous civilizations. For instance, the Li Ki or Book of Rites, which documents “Chinese cultural and religious practices from the eight to the fifth century BCE” mentions a duty to support widows and orphans (Walker and Maxwell 2009, 14).46 Religious institutions and beliefs also significantly contributed to humanitarian ethics and action.47 Barnett and Weiss explain this cross-cultural influence of faith on humanitarianism: Charity is a longstanding religious value. Christianity’s notion of love and compassion includes obligations to strangers. Zakat, which roughly translates to voluntarism, is one of the five pillars of Islam and reflects Islamic identity, commands various forms of charity, and is intended to foster solidarity within the community. Tzadakah and the idea of repairing the world make charity and good works part of the Jewish identity. In other spiritual traditions, service to and solidarity with others go beyond the injunction and are living values or principles emanating from the supreme wisdom of the inherent unity and interdependence of all life and creation. The millennial Hindu philosophy of Upanishads declares, “Wisdom means a life of selfless service,” because the wise “realize that all life is one” and “are at home everywhere and see themselves in all beings.” The southern African concept of ubuntu popularized by Archbishop Desmond Tutu underlines the fundamental interdependence that renders solidarity with and protection of the other instinctual and natural (2011, 22).  These religious and cultural beliefs have not remained lettre morte but, rather, have prompted much action.48 As an illustration, since the mid-1990s, the number of religious humanitarian organizations has grown faster than the number of secular humanitarian organizations (Barro and McLeary 2008, 518).49 Also, the financial contributions of faith-based organizations provide constant evidence of the influence of religion on humanitarian action (Barnett and Gross Stein 2012a, 5). For instance, the World Council of Churches alone mobilizes more than US$1 billion per year, while Islamic Relief had a                                                  46 Readers interested in the laws of war in the Pacific region should read Durham, Helen. 2008. “The Laws of War and Traditional Cultures: A Case Study of the Pacific Region.” Commonwealth Law Bulletin 34(4): 833-841. 47 Readers interested in the relationship between the religious and the secular in the humanitarian sphere should read Barnett and Gross Stein 2012b. 48 Recent conflicts in Islamic countries brought interest and analytical attention to zakat. For instance, see Vaux 2006, 245; Hansen 2008, 121; Donini 2010, 222-225. Also, Ferris provides an interesting history and discussion of faith-based humanitarian organizations (2005).  49 For a comprehensive picture of the development of secular and faith-based humanitarian organizations since WWII, see Barro and McLeary 2008.    36 budget of $109 million in 2007 (which figure does not include the resources raised by local branches) (Ferris 2005, 313; Barnett and Gross Stein 2012a, 6).50  Rules on the conduct of warfare, which started being internationally institutionalized in Solferino, also have a long history spanning centuries and cultures. A brief overview shows how Occidental practice and rules had analogues in other traditions. For instance, in ancient India, humanitarian principles were clearly delineated and humanitarian practice was prevalent. Professor Penna argues that “[i]n all her history of warfare Hindu India has few tales to tell of cities put to the sword or of the massacre of non-combatants” (1989, 333). Also, Hindu humanitarian law and practice reveals striking similarities with modern humanitarian law with principles such as the distinction between combatants and non-combatants, the distinction between military and non-military objects, the humane treatment of prisoners of war and Bihsma’s counsel that is akin to the Martens Clause. Accounts of war also mention that the medical corps as well as the female nurses accompanying armies were to be positioned in relative safe locations prior to battle (Penna 1989).51   Given the number of recent and ongoing conflicts in the Middle East and South-East Asia, it is worth noting the unique contributions of Islam to humanitarianism.52 These contributions are primarily rooted in specific rules concerning warfare.53 Of particular                                                  50 Professor William Headley also expresses the significance of faith-based organizations in the humanitarian sphere by saying: “the principal agents of human development in the world have been or continue to be faith-based organizations. In the US, the Catholic Church is the largest non-public provider of human services to poor families. One-third of all AIDS patients in the world are served through the auspices of the Catholic Church” (quoted in Ferris 2005, 316-317). Yet, despite the importance of these actors in the humanitarian sphere, this dissertation does not distinguish between secular and faith-based humanitarian organizations. This decision is supported by Paras and Gross Stein’s research that found that “[t]he attributes of “secular” and “religious” organizations, however, do not conform neatly to expectations; nor are they especially useful in understanding what the large, professional humanitarian organizations do in practice.” (2012, 228-229) 51 Professor Penna provides a clear and comprehensive overview of the conduct of warfare in ancient India in his 1989 piece entitled “Written and customary provisions relating to the conduct of hostilities and treatment of victims of armed conflicts in ancient India” published in the International Review of the Red Cross. 52 This focus is also valuable considering that “[m]ost Western aid is now directed to societies in which the majority population or the single largest religious group is Muslim: Somalia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Sudan, Palestine, Iraq, Afghanistan, Pakistan.” (Barnett and Gross Stein 2012a, 7)  53 Alarefi (2009) wrote an interesting article presenting Islamic law, its origins, many traditions and main principles. For readers with an interest in international Islamic law, Munir (2012) provides a good   37 interest are rules on conflict, on relations with non-Muslim populations, and on the conduct of war itself. None of these rules should be particularly surprising from a historical perspective: following Muslims’ emigration to Medina, the Prophet was not only responsible for the spiritual well-being of his people, but also for their material well-being. This added responsibility prompted the development of a complex body of rules about how to defend and maintain the new Islamic state. In this sense, Islamic international law is and has long been concerned with the same issues as has European public law. Islamic international law has clear rules regarding jus ad bellum – conditions for waging war – and jus in bello – the way in which war had to be fought. And, contrary to popular contemporary perception, the Prophet praised non-violent jihad – which refers to “struggle,” not violent “holy war.” Notwithstanding the Prophet’s preference for peace and the Qur’anic ideals of non-aggression and peaceful coexistence, rules of combat were clearly delineated. These rules can be distilled in three main principles: “(1) Non-combatants are not legitimate targets, […] this not only includes women, children, and the elderly but also animals and the natural environment; (2) The fact of someone's being non-Muslim does not make them a legitimate target of attack; (3) Muslims are expected to live in peace with their neighbors whenever possible, and must respect treaties, but this never precludes the right to pre-emptive or responsive self-defense.” (The Royal AAl Al-Bayt Institute for Islamic Thought 2007, 71-2)  Thus, not only do Islamic international law and European public law discuss the same issues but the content of these rules is also similar.54   Whether any of these parallel humanitarian rules and practices informed the development of humanitarianism in Europe is difficult to answer. Numerous scholars point to connections between European public law and other traditions, including Islamic international law. For instance, Baron de Taube argues that the concept and practice of declaration of war was adopted from Islamic law (Munir 2012, 22). Also, some Islamic international law experts claim that early European legal scholars such as Grotius were                                                                                                                                                  introductory article. Also, one of the most renowned books about international Islamic law is Shaybani’s Kitab al-Siyar al-Kabir. 54 Murphy and Zeidy present a fascinating comparative study of IHL and Islamic international law with regards to the rules pertaining to POWs (2009).    38 familiar with and influenced by this tradition (Munir 2012, 16). Such claims may sound surprising considering that the first Muslim state to be admitted to European public law was Turkey in1856. Nevertheless, contact between European and Islamic traditions dates back centuries, all the way to the Crusades. Interestingly, the Crusades themselves had a series of famous encounters that neatly illustrate the similarly between Islamic and European norms and rules of war. In one famous case, Saladin allowed the Hospitallers of St.John of Jerusalem to enter his camp to aid wounded captive Crusaders following the Muslim capture of Jerusalem in 1187. Saladin’s gesture stemmed from two prohibitions found in Islamic international law: killing individuals accompanying the army who are engaged in non-military activities and killing members of religious organizations (El-Said El-Dakkak 1990, 112-3). Finally, the fact that both Iran and Turkey adopted the first IHL document – the 1864 Geneva Convention – provides further evidence of the compatibility of these two traditions.55 Muslim states’ commitment to the spirit of the 1863 and 1864 Geneva Conventions is also demonstrated by their efforts to have another protected emblem recognized in lieu of the Red Cross: the Red Crescent.   2.2. Solferino – humanitarianism’s founding myth  The events to be examined below, including Dunant’s life-changing experience following the battle of Solferino, the identification of wounded soldiers and prisoners of war as categories of concern in wartime, and the emergence of the relief worker as a distinct category of actor, need to be considered in light of the social and political environments of the second half of the 19th century. Given that the societal forces behind the growth of humanitarianism have already been a subject of much scholarly attention, I will simply highlight major developments and point to further literature for interested readers. In doing so, I hope to avoid the fallacy of “examining norms in vacuums,” without properly situating them in the unique conditions in which norms develop (Finnemore 2004, 57).                                                    55 The recognition of the Red Crescent as a recognized emblem highlights Muslim states’ influence on practices in the humanitarian sphere. For a comprehensive presentation of the emblem debate, see IFRC n.d.b.    39 On many levels, the 19th century was a highly conducive environment for humanitarian developments. From the late 18th century, European societies started to experience major changes, notably modernization, urbanization and rapid industrialization. These society-level transformations contributed to the rise of a “culture of compassion” and to a belief in the possibility of improving the well-being of all individuals.56 For instance, advances in agricultural and medical science and technologies made possible improvement in health and nutrition (Hoffman and Weiss 2006, 38). Alongside the promise of progress, these societal changes also produced “social ills” such as prostitution and drunkenness, which quickly became a concern for and object of intervention by numerous individuals and groups (Barnett and Weiss 2011, 36).57 These philosophical inclinations were also reflected in the peace movement, which started developing prior to the 1830s under the lead of religious movements, mainly Quakers and Mennonites. The peace movement was very broad, encompassing not only those who praised the excellence of peace, but also the wider internationalist movement, the liberal ideology of economic development and social improvement, and the pervasive disposition towards humanitarianism (Best 1980, 132-4). Whereas this movement was a supportive force for the development of humanitarian activities to be examined, it was counteracted by what is crudely referred to as the “war movement.” The latter blossomed after the 1850s mainly due to influence of nationalism, the Hegelian theory of world history, Napoleonism, ideologies such as social Darwinism, the development of new weapons of war, and a belligerent popular culture literature. The arrival of the daily press helped to circulate these ideas and developments within society at large (Best 1980, 135-8). Although the daily press did draw attention to humanitarian initiatives from time to time, as I note below, it was the war movement and was “notoriously sensational, xenophobic, inflammatory and nationalistic” (Best 1980, 138). In sum, European societies were living through the influence of two opposite movements, whose interplay was central to the scope and nature of humanitarian developments during this period. Generally speaking, in order to win the acceptance of                                                  56 I here refer to the way in which compassion, beginning in the 18th century, “moved from part of the private realm and into the public realm, and the alleviation of human suffering became a defining element of modern society”(Barnett 2011, 49). 57 Although arguably the best known, the campaign to end the slave trade was not the only humanitarian movement active at this time. Rather, humanitarian reform movements of the 18th and 19th century targeted a variety of social domains such as prisons, mental hospitals and schools (Calhoun 2008, 76). Kellow provides a fascinating account of the humanitarian narrative on slavery (2009).    40 the war movement, the peace movement’s humanitarian projects always had to be framed in such a way as to not be seen as a hindrance for armies (Moynier 1882, 14-15, 21-23). As a result, most humanitarian initiatives such as the 1864 Geneva Convention sat at the crossroad between these movements and, as a result, were frequently criticized by both camps. On one side, they were chastised for misunderstanding the requirements and conduct of war and, on the other, they were castigated for not putting more limitations on the use of force (Moynier 1882, 71; Best 2002, 45).   In addition, the rise of war-related humanitarianism in the 19th century was made possible by changes in the nature of warfare and the growth of interstate wars. Of particular significance was the institutionalization of the inter-state system, which altered the rationality and practices of war. As war became more about political relations among states, captured soldiers, for example, were perceived less as personal enemies than agents of the enemy state. As a result, they did not become property as slaves but the object of exchange with the enemy’s prisoners (Hoffman and Weiss 2006, 36). The declining faith in natural law and great powers’ engagement in a wide range of military conflicts across the globe also prompted intellectual efforts to develop a unified international legal order (Kennedy 2004, 246-247).  Into this European milieu steps Henry Dunant. While the tale of Dunant and the events of Solferino have been recounted time and again by scholars, briefly presenting modern humanitarianism’s founding myth is important for assessing its contribution. Briefly, the story goes as follows: while travelling for business from Geneva to Lombardy, Dunant witnessed the harsh realities of war in the little town of Castiglione delle Stiviere, where many wounded and dying soldiers who fought in the battle of Solferino had congregated. Dunant, like other passersby and the residents of Castiglione, was appalled by the serious inadequacy of the medical services available to these injured soldiers. Diverging from his original travel plans, Dunant stayed in Castiglione to lend a hand to medical staff on site, organize relief efforts, and tried to provide some comfort to the wounded and dying.     41 Haunted by what he had seen in Italy, Dunant wrote A Memory of Solferino, in which he vividly captured the horror of the battle of Solferino and its equally horrific aftermath. Using his own money, Dunant had his book printed and distributed to several prominent aristocratic families, politicians, military men, philanthropists, writers and friends. A Memory of Solferino quickly became a literary success and Dunant soon received letters of praise, support and encouragement from many influential people of the time, such as the Goncourt brothers, Victor Hugo and military men such as Surgeon-General Bartherand who shared Dunant’s dismay about the treatment of wounded soldiers (Boissier 1985, 37-41).58 Inspired by his book’s reception, Dunant devoted himself to lobbying for improvement in the treatment of wounded soldiers in wartime.59 His efforts bore fruit in the creation of the International Committee for the Relief of the Wounded (which later became the International Committee of the Red Cross),60 and the adoption of the 1864 Geneva Convention on the Amelioration of the Condition of the Wounded in Armies in the Field.61  The ICRC’s success in codifying international humanitarian law gave the organization an incredible amount of respect and legitimacy. The 1864 Geneva Convention was supported and even lauded by many European leaders, most notably Napoleon III of France (Moynier 1882, 62-70). Swiss jurist Bluntschli called it “one of the noblest                                                  58 For instance, the Goncourt brothers wrote: “It is the sublime touching the depths of one’s being. It is more beautiful, a thousand times more beautiful, than Homer, than the Retreat of the Ten Thousand, than anything. …It is the truth about the living, about the mutilated, about those dying by violence in the prime of life, about everything descried in rhetoric since the world began” (quoted in Slaughter 2009, 96).  59 Concern and care for the wounded significantly changed starting in the 14th century, period when armies became royal armies. Surgeons were appointed to army units or legions and field hospitals were created (Boissier 1985, 126-143). These changes appeared against the background of a greater recognition of doctors and medicine and the growing power of artillery, making the presence of competent medical staff an important determinant of success (Guillermand 1989, 309). Army medical services reached a high point during these times thanks to schools of military medicine and surgery and the number of surgeons accompanying armies. These achievements were brought down by the French Revolution. With the advent of mass conscription, the wounded and sick combatants were not cared for but simply replaced by new troops (Bugnion 2009, 9). This was the lamentable state of sanitary services that Dunant observed in Solferino, and which prompted him to act. 60 For ease of reading, the acronym ICRC will be used to refer to this organization throughout its history. 61 The 1864 Geneva Convention was a landmark agreement as it was the first international treaty of international humanitarian law. Among other things, it sanctioned the neutrality of medical personnel and places of care, and established that wounded and sick combatants shall be collected and cared for (ICRC 1864).    42 achievements of the human spirit” (Pictet 1989, 278).62 Although the content of the 1864 Geneva Convention was itself not new, the document managed to make coherent a number of independent proposals (e.g. neutrality of ambulances, situation of the wounded) and, more importantly, win enough support to transform these proposals into reality (Bugnion 2009, 15). The ICRC also innovated by combining a strategy of continuity (through preparation in times of peace) with a more ambitious tragedy of protection (through the development of international humanitarian law) (Blondel 1987, 451).   The success of this enterprise certainly owed much to a supportive international environment at the time. However, considering that other individuals put similar proposals forward during the same period, including Italian doctor Ferdinando Palasciano and French pharmacist Henry Arrault, the air du temps alone cannot account for the success of the ICRC (Lubin 1991; Russo 1991). Three elements were central to securing this outcome: first, Dunant’s untiring lobbying efforts throughout Europe to publicize the ICRC’s project and gather support from elites; second, Maunoir’s (one of the original member of the Committee) strategy of gaining the support of the masses by stirring “up an agitation,” notably in the daily press; and third, the organizational format adopted by the ICRC – the convening of an international conference bringing together European governments to discuss concrete proposals, rather than impassioned and vague declarations (Moynier 1882, 16-18; Boissier 1985, 55; Finnemore 1996, 69-88).  As modern humanitarianism’s founding myth, the episode of Solferino would lead one to assume that it also marks the birth of the humanitarian worker (Barnett and Weiss 2008, 21; Walker and Maxwell 2009, 21-22). This is unsurprising in light of founding myths’ effect of creating and legitimizing identity – in this case, the “humanitarian” identity (Probst 2003, 45-6).63 While a humanitarian organization – the ICRC – and a key humanitarian legal convention emerged from Solferino, no humanitarian actor, as a                                                  62 Dr. Julius Naundorff has been quoted to have praised it as “one of those important events and rare progress that one witnesses in history” (Moynier 1882, 69). 63 While the terms “humanitarian” and “humanitaire” were first used in 1838 and 1835 respectively, their use greatly proliferated following Solferino (Harper, Douglas, n.d.; Centre National des Ressources Textuelles et Lexicales 2012).   43 distinct category, came to be at that point. One new category of actor did in fact emerge from Solferino, however: medical personnel. The resolutions of the 1863 Geneva International Conference pertained to the formation of national committees to assist the Army Medical Services in times of war, if need be, through sending voluntary medical personnel (ICRC 1863). Additionally, the 1864 Geneva Convention addressed the neutrality of ambulances and military hospitals and their staff (ICRC 1864). The focus of the Geneva Committee on medical matters is not surprising considering that the reasons motivating its formation, as well as the Committee’s ability to garner popular and elite support, were both tied to Dunant’s vivid depictions of wounded soldier on the battlefield (Moynier 1882, 29).64 While doctors and surgeons had been traveling with European armies for centuries, they identified themselves with their brothers in arms, not as a category of non-combatant. To underline this identification, most medical personnel carried weapons and were deeply attached to them insofar as they symbolized their membership in the army (Boissier 1985, 100; Guillermand 1989, 329). Thus, the neutralization of medical personnel had the effect of positioning them as distinct actors. It is worth noting, however, that medical staff had been granted an inviolable or neutral status in a number of military cartels concluded between the 16th and 19th century.65 Still, the scope, multilateral and permanent nature of the 1864 Convention constituted a novel development.   The distinction I am drawing here between medical personnel and humanitarian workers is not simply a semantic exercise: they each constitute different categories of actors with distinct rights and obligations. The two concepts are sometimes confused.  Many humanitarian organizations, such as Médecins du Monde (MdM) and Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF) for example, are involved in the provision of medical services.                                                  64 It is worth noting that while Dunant’s book produced tremendous reaction, the issue of the treatment of wounded soldiers was not new and had in fact been the object of discussion in European circles since the Crimean war (Moynier 1882, 29). 65 The oldest detailed example of such a cartel was granted by the Marquis of Spinola at the capitulation of Breda in 1625 (Guillermand 1989, 309). A particularly noteworthy cartel is the one concluded between the Count Stairs and the General Duc de Nouailles in 1743 as it guaranteed the inviolability of military hospitals. Other precedents include the 1759 treaty concluded at Sluys between France and England, and the 1759 Convention of Brandenburg concluded between Frederick the Great and Louis XV. Following the 1864 Geneva Convention, Gurlt undertook an extensive study of these instances and recorded 294 such treaties concluded between 1581 and 1864 (Lueder 1876, 11-16; Nussbaum 1947, 128-9).    44 However, staff from these organizations, and other similar NGOs, are actually not “medical personnel” in the strict legal sense. Personnel need to be assigned, by a party to the conflict, exclusively to the search for, collection, transportation, diagnosis or treatment, including first-aid treatment, of the wounded, sick and shipwrecked, and the prevention of disease, to the administration of medical units or to the operation or administration of medical transports (Henckaerts and Doswald-Beck 2005, 81, emphasis added).   The use of the Red Cross emblem by both the ICRC – generally perceived as the prototypical humanitarian organization – and medical personnel may have contributed to the confusion between these categories of actors.66   In addition to founding myths’ institutional impact, the natural association of Solferino with the humanitarian worker may stem from humanitarian workers’ adoption of Henry Dunant’s story as their “master narrative,” which they use to anchor their role and goals and which lends legitimacy to their activities. Humanitarian workers construct their professional identity with reference to the features of altruism and humanity highlighted in Dunant’s story, and perceive themselves as Dunant’s direct heirs (Sørensen 2006, 4-5).67 The fact that this narrative is part of the founding myth of Solferino makes it all too easy for humanitarian workers to draw a direct connection between Dunant’s work and their own. It is a powerful story that gives humanitarian workers instant legitimacy. Portrayals of humanitarian workers as vulnerable and altruistic actors performing admirable work are not only found in humanitarian workers’ self-understanding and within humanitarian organizations, but are also widely conveyed in the media to this day (Rieff 2002, 275; United Nations 2008; Fast 2010, 381-2; Willsher 2010).68   There are two reasons that the presence of ICRC representatives on European battlefields in the second half of the 19th century did not mark the emergence of a new category of                                                  66 Mackinstosh clearly explains the use of the Red Cross by writing: “Use of the[Red Cross] emblem is controlled by the states parties to the Conventions, and is in the first place assigned to the medical services of the armed forces. Other medical services, units and personnel assigned to a party to the conflict (such as national Red Cross societies), can make use of the Red Cross with the consent of the military authoriites, as can civilian hospitals organized to give care to the wounded and sick, the inform and maternity cases if authorized by the state concerned. […] The other use of the Red Cross emblem is to designate the activities of the International Red Cross Movement (the ICRC – International Committee of the Red Cross – and the International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies) [as recognized in] article 44 of Geneva Convention I” (2007, 114-115).  67 Interview with a humanitarian worker, Geneva, 2012.  68  This portrayal of humanitarian workers will be further developed in forthcoming chapters.    45 actor. First, as an organization, the ICRC differed little from the array of welfare organizations and societies budding in Europe during this period. In fact, the ICRC itself broke-off from one such welfare organization: the Society for Public Welfare of Geneva. Dunant’s proposals were discussed by the Society, however they were received with some trepidation. This lead one the Society’s most respected members, Gustave Moynier, to suggest forming a special committee to study Dunant’s proposals in more detail, and to prepare a dossier to be presented at the international welfare congress in Berlin in September 1863 (Moynier 1882, 5-14; Boissier 1985, 49). The Committee, first referred to as the “Committee of Five,” was the precursor to the ICRC.69 Thus, from the start, the ICRC was almost indistinguishable from the many other organizations and projects that grew out of the Genevan Society, such as the Bureau central d’aide sociale and the Société genevoise pour la protection des animaux (SGUP n.d.).   Second, ICRC delegates deployed on the battlefield differed little from the ones in Geneva or those travelling to European capitals. Not only did ICRC delegates carry out similar tasks, like disseminating and supervising the 1863 Geneva Conference’s resolutions, but they were also often one and the same. For instance, during the Schleswig-Holstein war (German-Danish war), one of the two representatives of the ICRC, Dr. Louis Appia, was also one of the founding members of the Committee of Five (Boissier 1985, 169-170). Thus, unless all the members of the ICRC were perceived as forming a new category of actor, which is dubious considering the likeness of the ICRC to other targeted organizations and that its subject matter fell under the Genevan Society’s perceived scope of intervention, the two ICRC delegates dispatched during the German-Danish war can hardly be perceived as such. Also, their deployment on the battlefield stemmed from the ICRC’s mission requiring supervision and advice in wartime – they were sent to assess the implementation of the Geneva Conference – rather than from a deliberate attempt to present itself as distinct from other organizations (ICRC 1998b).                                                    69 The Committee of the Five was composed of Henry Dunant, Gustave Moynier, General Guillaume-Henri Dufour, Dr Louis Appia and Dr. Theodore Maunoir.     46 2.3. First recognition of the humanitarian worker  Some thirty years following the recognition of medical personnel, however, a new actor did finally enter the scene. Again, it was through a new international legal convention. The 1899 Hague Convention on the Laws and Customs of War on Land recognized a new category of actor in wartime, and this category can be linked to the modern concept of the humanitarian worker: delegates of relief societies for prisoners of war (POWs). Even if not considered by many to be a landmark moment in the history of humanitarianism, this Convention constituted a central moment in the history of the humanitarian worker. Article 15 of the Convention reads as follows:  Relief societies for prisoners of war, which are regularly constituted in accordance with the law of the country with the object of serving as the intermediary for charity, shall receive from the belligerents for themselves and their duly accredited agents every facility, within the bounds of military requirements and administrative regulations, for the effective accomplishment of their humane task. Delegates of these societies may be admitted to the places of internment for the distribution of relief, as also to the halting places of repatriated prisoners, if furnished with a personal permit by the military authorities, and on giving an engagement in writing to comply with all their regulations for order and police (ICRC 1899).  The connection between these delegates of relief societies for prisoners of war and modern-day humanitarian workers can be made on the basis of both practice and terminology. The provision of relief to POWs constitutes a task still performed by humanitarian workers today. This work is oftentimes carried out by the ICRC, which has been recognized in legal documents as being “humanitarian,” and whose delegates have been described as “humanitarian workers.”70 Continuity in the work performed and the actor performing it, even in the face of a changing label (from “delegates of relief societies for POWs” to “humanitarian workers”) speaks to the connection between the actor recognized in 1899 and the modern-day humanitarian worker. Moreover, the terms “relief”, “aid” and “humanitarian” are often used as equivalents in the policy and legal domains. For instance, while using the term “relief,” Article 71 of the first 1977 Additional Protocol is widely recognized as addressing the protection of humanitarian workers (Mackintosh 2007, 118; Barrat 2010, 54). Furthermore, while the term “assistance” has increasingly come to replace the term “relief” to refer to the provision of                                                  70 See for example, ICRC 1949d, article 123.    47 material goods, “humanitarian workers” remains the predominant phrase used to refer to individuals dispensing assistance (e.g. UN 1998).71  Not only was the 1899 Hague Convention’s recognition of the delegates of relief societies for POWs a landmark for the category “humanitarian workers,” it also marked the entry of a new actor on the international scene. It was the first time that delegates of relief societies for POWs were recognized in a legal convention. These actors were also new in the sense that they did not qualify under existing categories – they were not, for example, medical personnel or civilians. They were something different. Furthermore, as we saw in the case of medical personnel, external recognition is crucial to being perceived as a distinct kind of actor.72 The pre-1864 medical personnel differed little from their predecessors in terms of medical function but were constructed as a distinct actor through their separation from the army. A similar dynamic of external recognition is observable regarding the delegate of relief society. Although some relief work in favour of POWs preceded the adoption of the Hague Convention, the relief societies and their delegates recognized in Article 15 were perceived as something new. Reflecting on the Conference, Boissier wrote: “Nobody seemed clear as to who these intruders were. Louis Renault [the 1899 Hague Conference secretary and main drafter of the 1907 Hague Convention] flatly declared they didn’t exist” (Boissier 1985, 382). This perception of novelty is also evidenced by the fact that the adoption of the Hague Convention prompted discussions regarding “who” or “what organization” should carry out these new tasks in favour of POWs. Had societies, organizations or an identifiable category of actor already been in existence and recognized, it is doubtful that such discussions would have occurred. The Red Cross appeared as an obvious choice for some jurists, such as Renault and de Martens, and at the IXth International Red Cross Conference in Washington in 1912, the Red Cross accepted prisoners of war as part of its mandate (Korff 1912; ICRC 1919; Boissier 1985, 382-384).                                                    71 Macalister-Smith also argues that the expression “humanitarian assistance” has come to replace the term “relief” because it is more neutral (Macalister-Smith 1991, 446).  72 Numerous scholars have addressed the importance of this external recognition for identity formation. For instance, see Wendt 1992; Hansen 2006, 6.    48 Although it explicitly recognizes the work of a new actor in wartime, Article 15 of the 1899 Hague Convention has received little attention in histories of humanitarianism. One possible reason is that it was actually not discussed at the Conference. The silence was instigated by his Excellency Mr. Beernaert, the senior delegate of Belgium, who argued that this provision, and others pertaining to prisoners of war, were not new.73 Before turning to the precedents that paved the way for this recognition in the Hague Convention and the provisions referred to by Beernaert, it is worth mentioning that this silent “birth” of the humanitarian worker was uncontroversial as humanitarian workers were viewed as a simple means for relief societies to provide assistance to POWs. Article 15 focuses on the relief societies and their work and not on their individual delegates. This emphasis is not surprising considering that this article was spurred by a concern for the treatment of POWs and more importantly because this “organization-focussed” clause thereby endowed belligerents with an efficient means to control actors wishing to provide relief in wartime.   2.4. Precedents of the 1899 Hague Convention: history of the concern for POWs  As the emergence of delegates of relief societies for POWs stemmed from a concern for POWs, it is worth looking at how the latter was constructed as a category of concern. Interestingly, Solferino writ large, or the work of the ICRC in particular, was instrumental in this outcome mainly through providing a blueprint for the construction of POWs as a category of concern. In so doing, it contributed to the emergence of the humanitarian worker. That efforts in favour of POWs paralleled the ICRC’s advocacy work in favour of wounded soldiers is not surprising given the success of the ICRC in having protective principles on wounded soldiers, as well as an actor to attend to them, enshrined in an international convention. The strategies used by the ICRC, namely: (1) lobbying; (2) using the press for gaining support of the masses; and (3) convening international conferences, also played an important role in the construction of the POW as a category of concern. In addition to the successful precedent set by the ICRC, this                                                  73 Only Article 16, which related to postal, customs and other privileges was discussed (Scott 1917, 144; Abrams 2001, 72).     49 similarity in tactics was also possibly a function of the involvement of Henry Dunant, one of the ICRC’s architects, in lobbying in favour of POWs. Dunant, who was not associated with the ICRC after 1867 as a result of a controversy at the Crédit Génévois, had adopted the situation of prisoners of wars as his new cause (Boissier 1985, 203-206).   Similar to the impact of the battle of Solferino on wounded soldiers, the 1870 Franco-Prussian war was a catalyst in the history of the concern for prisoners of war. Going beyond ad hoc initiatives and cartels, prisoners of war henceforth became the object of more sustained attention and intervention (Romberg 1898, 25-26). During the war, a number of ad hoc relief committees emerged in France, Germany, Austria and Belgium to attend to POWs’ needs (Romberg 1898, 27). For example, given that “the enemy wounded rubbed shoulders with prisoners who had fallen ill in captivity,” the ICRC extended its activities aimed at the wounded soldiers to prisoners of war (Boissier 1985, 265). However, perceiving relief to able-bodied prisoners of war as falling outside of its mandate, it created the “International Relief Committee for Prisoners of War” in Basle, under the supervision of Dr. Christ-Socin.74 Amidst a myriad of organizations intervening in favour of POWs, one committee, the Brussels Committee (which became the driving force behind the Société Internationale de Secours pour les Prisonniers de guerre), distinguished itself by its prestigious membership and the quality of its work. It presented itself as the equivalent to the ICRC for prisoners of war and it is this organization that became the lobbying force for POWs.75   Following the steps of the ICRC, the Société Internationale became a very active lobby group. To achieve its aim of having protective provisions on prisoners of war enshrined                                                  74 During the war, the ICRC and its Committee for POWs gathered information about the wounded, compiled lists of POWs, instituted a service to exchange correspondence between POWs and their families and provided relief (ICRC 1973, 4-5; ICRC 1998a). 75 Its programme reads “do for prisoners of war, without distinction of nationality, with the agreement of belligerent states what the Geneva Convention had done for the wounded: to improve the situation of prisoners of war through the provision of aid of any kind; to facilitate contact with their families, in line with the conditions set by the governments; to multiply the resources for their intellectual, moral and religious life.” The original reads “Faire pour les prisonniers de guerre, sans distinction de nationalité, avec l’agrément des gouvernements belligérants, ce que la Convention de Genève a fait pour les blessés; adoucir par des secours de toute nature la position des prisonniers de guerre; leur faciliter, par les conditions fixées par les gouvernements, les relations avec leurs familles; multiplier autour d’eux les ressources de la vie intellectuelle, morale et religieuse.” (Romberg 1898, 28) The translation was made by the present author.   50 in an international convention, the Société’s representatives travelled throughout Europe. They familiarized elites on the situation of POWs, advocated for the need for an agreement on their treatment and presented possible measures to improve the circumstances of POWs.76 Only the Russian government’s convening of the 1874 Brussels Conference prevented the Société from holding a diplomatic conference under its own auspices, as the ICRC had done in 1864. As a result, the Société became an active contributor to diplomatic conferences. Given that government representatives were oftentimes the only ones allowed to submit projects at the occasion of diplomatic conferences, the Société lobbied for, obtained and ultimately relied on the support of the Belgium government to have its project examined. For instance, at the occasion of the 1874 Brussels Conference, the Belgium plenipotentiary, Baron Lambremont, presented a project on POWs based on a draft of the Société. Although these propositions were not included in the final document of the Brussels Conference, their authorship and value were nevertheless recognized by a resolution of the Conference.77 The Société also submitted some propositions on the treatment of POWs at the 1889 Congrès International des Oeuvres d’Assistance in Paris that were unanimously adopted (Annales de l’École Libre des Sciences Politiques 1889, 735). The work of the Congrès was notable in prompting the French government to elaborate and adopt a règlement (regulation) on the treatment of prisoners of wars in 1893. The content of the règlement was greatly inspired by a project submitted at the 1874 Brussels Conference and at the Congrès (Romberg 1898, 28, 30-38, 75-85). The adoption of seventeen articles pertaining to prisoners of war in the 1899 Hague Convention was the culmination of these lobbying efforts. The Société Internationale played a particularly important role in this outcome as                                                  76 For a comprehensive presentation of these efforts in favour of prisoners of war, see Romberg 1876; Romberg 1898.  77 The resolution reads as follows: “The Committee, having heard the proposals made by the Belgian Committee of the International Society for the relief of prisoners of war and presented by the delegate of Belgium in a modified form, and after deliberation, finds a common agreement that the purpose of this eminently charitable society in general, and the high repute of the members of the Belgian Committee in particular, are likely to ensure a warm welcome of these proposals and serious consideration”  (the translation was made by the present author). The original reads “La commission, après avoir entendu la lecture des propositions faites par le comité belge de la Société internationale de secours pour les prisonniers de guerre et présentées par M. le délégué belge dans une forme modifiée, et après en avoir délibéré, constate d’un commun accord que le but éminemment charitable de cette Société en général, et la haute honorabilité des membres qui composent le comité belge en particulier, sont de nature à assurer à ces propositions un accueil bienveillant et une sérieuse considération.” (Romberg 1898, 32) The translation was made by the present author.    51 these clauses were included by the Belgium plenipotentiary upon the request of Romberg, who was the Société’s secrétaire-rapporteur (secretary-rapporteur) (Boissier 1985, 370). Once again, the support of the Belgium plenipotentiary was essential, especially because the conference was not open to the public.  In a manner reminiscent of the ICRC publishing its project in the Genevan press to inform the public and gather support, the Société attempted to reach out to the public by publishing a book entitled Les Belligérants et les Prisonniers de Guerre in 1894 to publicize its project. It pertained to the situation of prisoners of war in wartime and included a detailed draft convention on the situation of prisoners of war. As of way of spurring support for its content, most of its clauses were skilfully accompanied by a brief description of their consonance with previous agreements and doctrines (Romberg 1898, 94-104). This strategy of the Société – presenting the draft convention as simply reflecting prior understandings and traditions rather than constituting a brand new set of agreements – constitutes a clear illustration of the role of  “grafting” in norm development. The concept of grafting captures “the genealogical heritage of such normative branching that is glossed over by overly volunteeristic terms such as “framing” [while avoiding] the overly static connotations of “fit” or “resonance””(Price 2003, 584). Price explains the value of this technique, writing: “ideas are more likely to be influential if they fit well with existing discourses in a particular historical setting” (1998, 630).78  In addition to providing a blueprint for the successful construction of a category of concern, the ICRC contributed to the emergence of delegates of relief societies for POWs by setting a positive precedent. The fact that governments accepted the intervention of a new civilian actor during armed conflicts undoubtedly owed much to the success of medical personnel themselves on the battlefield. For instance, the ICRC’s use of new war surgery techniques and the methods discovered by Pasteur had the effect of reducing the mortality rate from arm wounds from 21% in 1870 during the Franco-Prussian War to 0% during the 1885-1886 Serbo-Bulgarian War. The mortality rate for leg wounds also                                                  78 Grafting has contributed to the acceptance of numerous norms such as the landmine ban and as discussed in the next chapter, it played a central role in the growing prominence of the norm of humanitarian security in the 1990s.   52 dropped from 21% to 6% during this period (Boissier 1985, 341). Through the drop in mortality rates, medical personnel illustrated the value of recognized civilian actors intervening in times of war in a clear and tangible way. Had the tasks and presence of medical personnel been perceived as worthless or hindering, as some critics first feared, governments would likely have had little inclination to consider the involvement of another category of actor in war (Moynier 1882, 25).    2.5. World War I  While the climate of relative peace between 1899 and 1914 provided few opportunities for the newly recognized delegates of relief society to gain experience, it nevertheless saw the reaffirmation of the recognition gained in 1899.79 The 1907 Hague Convention repeated, almost verbatim, Article 15 of the 1899 Hague Convention, thus further endorsing the work of relief societies. It also validated another precedent set by the ICRC in recognizing, in Article 14, the institution of information agencies for prisoners of war at the start of a conflict (ICRC 1907; ICRC 1973, 16).80 The First World War witnessed the first steps of the legally sanctioned delegate of relief society but not the emergence of a clear new actor. This is principally because delegates of relief societies were not perceived as all belonging to a common category of actor. Their identity was rather closely associated with their organization. They were perceived as “Red Cross delegate” or “YMCA secretary” rather than “relief worker.” This perception was very much in line with the spirit and letter of the 1899 Hague Convention which sanctioned the work of “delegates of these societies” (ICRC 1899). Article 15’s focus lay on the relief societies and not on their delegates. Delegates of relief societies were perceived as the means through which duly recognized relief societies could operate. ICRC president Max Hubert illustrates this perception, writing: “the delegates […] are, so to speak, front line troops of the International Committee or of the neutral organizations” (Junod 1951, 10).                                                  79 For ease of reading, I interchangeably use the terms “delegates of relief society” and “relief worker.”  80 Building on this provision, during the Balkan war, the ICRC set up, in 1912, an agency for prisoners of war, and sick and wounded soldiers (ICRC 1973, 14-15).   53 The absence of internationally agreed upon criteria for relief societies also hampered the perception of all delegates as belonging to a common category. It was each belligerent’s prerogative to recognize relief societies and sanction the type of work they were allowed to carry out in their territory.81 The perception of all relief societies’ delegates as sharing a common identity was also significantly hindered by the independent, disjointed and nationalist character of relief during the Great War. Appreciating that the First World War saw the interventions of relief workers who were not perceived as belonging to a common category of actors is critical, as it shows how treating and recognizing these actors as “humanitarian workers” and “aid workers” is recent. It also helps to account for the nonappearance of the norm of humanitarian security in that period.   Comprehending the experience of delegates of relief society (and of other humanitarian actors) requires attending to the work performed by their organizations. This analytical focus is valuable for identifying what is perceived to be “humanitarian work,” which constitutes an important dimension of the actor’s identity. Also, this analysis of World War I does not only attend to the work performed in favour of POWs but also examines information work, and actions in favour of civilian populations. This broader focus allows us to account for the recognition of humanitarian work as an esteemed endeavour, which supported the growth of the humanitarian sphere as well as the emergence of the category and identity of “humanitarian worker” in future decades. The analysis of WWI that follows contains three parts. The first section examines the Information Agency set up at the outset of the hostilities. The second section attends to the work performed in favour of POWs. Here, I highlight two characteristics of relief action that prevented the perception of all delegates of relief societies as belonging to a common category of actors: the differentiation between relief societies and the nationalist character of relief action. Third, I look at the work performed in favour of civilians. My analysis shows how the meaning of delegate of relief society has been ambiguous from the start as actors carrying work in favour of civilians were highly similar to delegates of relief societies for POWs. While the work and presence of these actors were not legally sanctioned, these                                                  81 Nice illustrations of these negotiations with belligerents are presented in Davis (1993), Becker (1998) and Steuer (2009).    54 actors presented themselves in similar ways to delegates to POWs. This section is important for providing a full picture of humanitarian action during WWI and understanding how the humanitarian worker evolved over time.   2.5.1. Information Agency  The first humanitarian initiative established at the outset of World War I was the International Prisoners of War Agency (IPOWA) by the ICRC.82 Briefly put, the IPOWA was the primary institution to which families that had lost contact with their soldiers turned for information. To be able to respond to the overwhelming demand, which sometimes amounted to up to 8,000 letters per day, the agency grew from 20 staff members to 1,200 within three months of the start of the war (ICRC 1973, 17). But the IPOWA’s modest nomenclature far from captures the scope of activity of the Agency. Along with acting as a hub of information on prisoners of war, and civilians, it also processed and transmitted information on missing, wounded and dead soldiers and civilians and forwarded relief to soldiers hors de combat. By the end of the war, the agency had “made out 4,895,000 index cards and forwarded 1,884,914 individual parcels and 1,813 wagonloads of collective relief supplies” (Durand 1984, 45). It also demonstrated outstanding adaptability in establishing new information systems on missing soldiers. For instance, with the battle of Verdun and the coming of static warfare, the IPOWA established a system of “regimental searches,” which consisted of sending a request for information to someone in a regiment regarding the whereabouts of some of his brothers in arms. This system proved highly valuable as it allowed for collecting 90,000 reports on French prisoners alone, which were not included in the official lists (Durand 1984, 44).   Through this information work, the IPOWA advertised the distinctiveness of humanitarian action. In comparison to the small number of individuals who had any previous direct contact with the ICRC, millions of individuals interacted with National                                                  82 The Vatican and the King of Spain also received a significant number of letters asking about the whereabouts of family and friends. Yet, the hundreds of daily letters received by the Vatican appear small in comparison with the sometimes thousands of daily letters received by the ICRC (Becker 1998, 164-168).   55 Red Cross Societies or the ICRC during the Great War. Throughout the war, the IPOWA positioned itself as the alternative to inadequate government channels of communication and as a symbol of hope for individuals wishing to locate, communicate with and send relief to relatives.83 It indicated to belligerents and populations that there was a respectable “third way” or, in the words of ICRC delegate Marcel Junod, a “third combatant” on which they could rely (Junod 1951; Becker 1998, 188). While this information work was performed by an ICRC subsidiary agency, it was perceived by soldiers and civilian populations to be the work of the Red Cross. This is unsurprising given the presence of the Red Cross emblem on documents requesting information on civilians and on wounded and dead soldiers (ICRC 1917; ICRC 1973, 130-132; ICRC 2007b). Also, information periodicals such as the weekly French newspaper “La Recherche des Disparus” (The Search for the Missing) clearly positioned the Red Cross as a central actor with regard to information on civilians and soldiers. This newspaper provided lists of displaced civilians, missing civilians and missing soldiers as well as forms to request information on soldiers and civilians. Not only did its front page display the Red Cross emblem but it was dedicated to present relief action and the work of the Red Cross in particular.84 The IPOWA’s work was not only important for families desiring information on their missing relatives but also for POWs themselves. Reporting on their visit to POWs camps, some ICRC delegates wrote that “the lack or simply the scarcity and slowness of correspondence” was one of the most acute suffering experienced by POWs (ICRC 1917, 12-13).85   The information work performed by the IPOWA contributed to the ICRC being awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1917 (Nobel Prize 2012). The growing recognition of the Red Cross is important to acknowledge because it allowed the ICRC to undertake numerous                                                  83 The Danish Red Cross had established a similar information agency in 1916 to deal with prisoners of war of the German-Russian front (ICRC 2005b).  84 For example, the February 28th 1915 edition presented the organization of the Red Cross movement and ways for individuals to request information on soldiers and displaced civilians. The March 7 th edition explained how correspondence between prisoners and their families was organized and functioned. The March 14th1915 edition dedicated its front page to Swiss relief work and the contribution of the Red Cross. 85 The translation was made by the present author. The original reads, “De toutes les souffrances des prisonniers, l’une des plus aiguës est certainement l’absence, ou simplement la rareté et la lenteur des correspondences” (ICRC 1917, 12-13).   56 humanitarian initiatives during the war – notably in favour of civilians – and to come to be seen as the “gold standard” for humanitarian organizations.86  2.5.2. Prisoners of War  The 1899 Hague Convention’s recognition relief societies for POWs allowed their delegates to perform tremendous work during the First World War.87 As the war dragged on, the number of prisoners of war in the custody of the Central and Allied powers steadily increased. Given the shared belief that the war would be over by Christmas 1914, the belligerents had not made the necessary arrangements to accommodate and care for over five million POWs (Steuer 2009). This lack of foresight allowed relief societies and neutral Powers to carry out large-scale interventions in favour of POWs.88 For instance, the ICRC visited and provided relief in 524 camps, while the Young Men Christian Association (YMCA) set up operations in 80 POW and civilian internment camps in Germany by February 1917, which represented almost 89% of such camps (Abbal 1987, 7; Steuer 2009). Also, despite repatriation being a prerogative of the Detaining Power, both the ICRC and the YMCA assisted States in this work. The ICRC itself organized the return of some 425,000 prisoners of war, whereas the YMCA supported POWs in their journey by providing them with food and blankets as well as moral and social support (Durand 1984, 74-75, 100; Steuer 2009). Despite this dynamism, however, the delegates of these relief societies were not perceived as forming a new and encompassing category of actor.   2.5.2.1. Distinctiveness of relief societies                                                    86 The valuable work performed by the ICRC during WWI was also recognized in the 1929 Geneva Conventions. I discuss these conventions in the next chapter.  87 Historian Daniel Palmieri situates ICRC’s visits to POWs during the First World War as marking the emergence of the humanitarian worker as actor. (Interview with the author, Geneva, 2012) 88 While this research focuses on relief societies, neutral states used a system of protecting powers to play a valuable role in favour of prisoners of war. For instance, French and Russian POWs in Germany were represented and looked after by Spain while German POWs in the UK were represented and looked after by the United States (Jones 2009, 700).   57 A small number of organizations became involved in providing relief to POWs during the Great War. The requirement that relief societies receive the consent of governments before intervening not only thwarted spontaneous work supporting POWs but also favoured bigger and more organized societies as only the latter could undertake reciprocal actions. The principle of reciprocity, a key rationalist theoretical mechanism of norm development, formed the cornerstone of most POW work during the war. Belligerents generally only sanctioned the work of relief societies in favour of foreign POWs in their territory if that society could ensure that similar work would be undertaken in favour of their POWs on foreign territory (Taft 1922, 239; Abbal 1987, 16-19; Davis 1993, 39; Steuer 2009). In addition to neutral states and the Vatican, the principal actors intervening in favour of POWs were the Red Cross (the ICRC and the National Societies) and the YMCA (the World Alliance and National Associations).89 This section will thus focus on these two major relief actors.  Despite their shared concern for the plight of POWs, these two movements developed and demonstrated different expertise. The Red Cross work in favour of POWs had three main dimensions: (1) information (which involved information on the whereabouts of POWs and correspondence between the latter and their families); (2) provision of succour to POWs and investigation of conditions of detention; and (3) diplomatic interventions in cases of violation of conventions by states (Becker 1998, 180).90 Whereas the delivery of relief was mainly carried out by National Societies, the ICRC played a leading role with regards to information and diplomacy. Also, the ICRC did not limit its intervention in favour of POWs to the provisions of the Hague Convention. Using its self-proclaimed identity as “a highly active neutral intermediary,” the ICRC approached belligerent states to secure some ad hoc agreements on standards of treatment of POWs. These efforts, often supported by National Societies, produced a number of successful outcomes such as the exchange of seriously wounded prisoners, agreement on punishments in case of                                                  89 Other relief societies include Dr. Markel’s Committee and the Friends’ Emergency Committee in England (Taft 1922, 230).  90 The ICRC’s diplomatic efforts will not be comprehensively examined because this section focuses on the newly recognized delegates of relief societies. Also, some of these diplomatic interventions were supported by political actors such as Guiseppe Motta, President of the Swiss Confederation. It suffices here to highlight that the ICRC was involved in humanitarian diplomacy and that its successes contributed to the recognition and legitimacy of the organization. Interested readers should consult Becker 1998, 199-213.    58 escape attempts and the internment of wounded officers in Switzerland (Abbal 1987, 14; Forsythe 2005, 31; Nobel Prize 2012).91   Complementing these legal, diplomatic and relief efforts, YMCA workers attended to the religious, educational, recreational and moral needs of POWs by providing them, for example, with books, musical instruments and education opportunities (Durand 1984, 77; Taft 1922, 234-236).92 These interventions aimed at making “incarceration a rewarding experience” and combating “barbed-wire disease,” which plagued POW camps (Steuer 2009). This psychological affliction, also known as neurasthenia, stemmed from feelings of intense boredom, hopelessness, uselessness and lack of privacy (Taft 1922, 220-227).93 The significance of this affliction in POW camps made visits by relief workers, of any organization, highly valuable for incarcerated POWs. Relief society delegates provided more than relief parcels to POWs but also acted as concerned listeners and connections with the outside world. Numerous inmates in Russia recalled these visits as the “high points of their time in captivity” (quoted in Davis 1993, 41). Here, we find one of the first instances in which the successes of relief workers placed them in a position of general esteem.                                                   91 For a comprehensive presentation of the internment of POWs in Switzerland, see Fabre 1917.  92 The YMCA welfare efforts were often restricted because “prisoners could not be allowed too good a time”  (Taft 1922, 238). Its religious identity also often hindered its acceptance. For instance, with reference to the case of France, Steuer remarked “French Catholics feared the dissemination of Protestant propaganda, while the French left opposed sectarian religious influence as represented by the American YMCA” (Steuer 2009).   93 Taft explains barbed-wire disease thus: “Among prisoners of all nations there developed a distinct psychological condition, pathological in its nature to a varying degree. Herded together as they were in forced confinement without normal occupation; believing themselves hated and ill-used; tortured by their uselessness in the hour of their country’s need and by anxiety regarding their own people at home; alternating between hope and despair till their numbed hearts could feel no more; fighting without adequate encouragement against approaching lethargy, with the blight of futility on all that they did – it is little wonder that so many of them sank into neurasthenia so well-marked in type and symptoms that it has been called “barbed-wire disease”.” (Taft 1922, 220) The prevalence of this condition was a function of the very long time of captivity experienced by POWs. For instance, more than half the French POWs had been captured between August 1914 and December 1914 and three-quarters of French POWs had arrived in German POW camps by the end of 1916 (Abbal 1987, 18). In his study on POWs during the Great War, Abbal also notes a deterioration in the tone of messages sent by POWs to their families. He notes that the reassuring letters from the first months of the war in which prisoners were confident that they would be home by Christmas turned into disillusioned messages as the war went on (Abbal 1987, 12-13).   59 In addition to their distinct domains of action, Red Cross’ and YMCA’s efforts to highlight the organizational affiliation of their employees and actions further hindered the perception of all delegates of relief societies as belonging to a common category of actor. Relief societies were actively branding their services. For instance, private packages sent to POWs and delivered by the Red Cross as well as parcels from the Red Cross itself were stamped with the Red Cross emblem. POWs receiving such packages were thus highly aware of the role played by this organization in their relief. When providing goods to POWs, the YMCA also often stamped them with the YMCA emblem (Steuer 2009). While the Red Cross branding was partly aimed at facilitating the delivery process, the YMCA explicitly intended to “establish […] name recognition among the war prisoners” (Steuer 2009).94 Furthermore, as the access of relief society delegates to internment sites hinged on their being part of a recognized organization, such branding was essential. Delegates presented themselves and were thus perceived as “ICRC or Red Cross delegates”, “sisters” (a term used to refer to female Red Cross delegates), “YMCA secretaries” or “Red Triangle workers or representatives” and not as “relief workers” (Renault 1916, 66; Davis 1993; Blanchard 1997; Steuer 2009).   Not only was this close organizational association a requirement for access but it was also actively displayed to both POWs and external audiences. Both the YMCA and the ICRC publicized their work in their respective publications. For instance, the ICRC published 24 volumes on its visits to POW camps. These publications were sent to its Bulletin international subscribers, sold in bookstores and partly reproduced in a variety of documents published by the ICRC (Becker 1998, 189). The YMCA also publicized its work in its magazine American Men. It also published a monthly newspaper for prisoners of war between July 1915 and December 1918. The Messenger to Prisoners of War was published in French, German, English, Russian and Bulgarian and had more than one million subscribers before the Armistice (Steuer 2009). The YMCA also reached a broader audience by publicizing pictures of POW camps taken by its secretaries in                                                  94 This is because, in virtue of Article 16 of the 1899 Hague Convention, parcels sent by and forwarded by the IPOWA benefitted from free postage. Article 16 reads: “The information bureau shall have the privilege of free postage. Letters, money orders, and valuables, as well as postal parcels destined for the prisoners of war or dispatched by them, shall be free of all postal duties both in the countries of origin and destination, as well as in those they pass through” (ICRC 1899).   60 Germany. Through these publications, the general public gained organization-specific information on relief to POWs rather than a bird’s-eye view of all relief efforts. And, when one relief society’s actions were mistakenly confused with another, other actors involved in attending to POWs lamented the misunderstanding. For instance, Abbé Devaud, who visited French POWs in Germany wrote in a report sent to His Eminence Gasparri: “German Authorities have understood very well […] The camp commanders, less so. […] Some identify my role with the delegates from the Red Cross and make me visit the health camp facilities while I was there to see the prisoners” (quoted in Becker 1998, 192).95  This distinction between organizations was not only expressed by relief societies but also noted by observers. As an illustration, Red Cross worker Anni Rothe wrote in a report, “What the Americans accomplished for our prisoners is difficult [to say]; what is neglected to do is easy to say…A laudable exception is the work of the American Christian Young Men” (quoted in Davis 1993, 49). This passage shows how identification was organization-specific and not solely based on nationality. The contribution of the YMCA was also conveyed in this excerpt from a POW letter which reads: “In the camps’ weary round of daily life the YMCA hut was for very many a veritable oasis where they found much needed restful surroundings and an atmosphere of calm and quiet and food for their anxious minds” (quoted in Taft 1922, 241). The YMCA hut in this letter was a venue within the camp facility used for any recreational, moral or religious activities.   The distinctiveness of the YMCA was not only acknowledged and expressed in personal or internal communications but also in newspaper articles. For instance, in a letter in the London Times, Rt Rev. Herbert Bury, Anglican Bishop for North and Central Europe wrote:  Will you allow me to offer a small tribute to the generosity of the American YMCA? In October 1915, at the suggestion of the Archbishop of Canterbury, the War Office appointed me to                                                  95 The translation was made by the present author. The original reads, “Les autorités allemandes ont très bien compris[...]. Les commandants des camps moins bien. […] Quelques-uns identifient mon rôle avec celui des délégués de la Croix-Rouge et me font visiter les installations sanitaires du camp alors que ce sont les prisonniers que je viens voir” (quoted in Becker 1998, 192).    61 superintend the social and religious work in the prisoners’ camps in Great Britain and Ireland, and, in all that work, important and responsible as it has been, I have had the unfailing support, financial and otherwise, of the American YMCA [...] It would be difficult to speak in too appreciative terms – as no funds have been available for such work from the War Office – of the modest, generous and entirely unadvertising work of the American YMCA (quoted in Taft 1922, 235-236).  Moreover, the acknowledgement by relief societies of the contributions of other societies further highlighted their individuality. A 1917 edition of the YMCA newspaper The Messenger to Prisoner of Wars dedicated much space and attention to the “untiring efforts of the Red Cross” (original in French, quoted in Becker 1998, 185-6). The particularity of these organizations was not only conveyed by the remark itself but also by its vehicle – namely the publication of another relief society. Finally, the literature on relief to POWs during the First World War very rarely presents an overview of relief efforts, instead, it presents each society’s contribution separately (e.g. Abbal 1987; Becker 1998; Jones 2009). This contrasts with the post-Cold War literature on humanitarian action which provides an overall picture of humanitarian actions in the field, without always distinguishing individual organizations (e.g. Smillie and Minear 2004; Hoffman and Weiss 2006; Barnett and Weiss 2011).  2.5.2.2. Nationalist character of relief action  The nationalist character of some relief action during the Great War constitutes a second factor hindering the emergence and perception of a common identity for all delegates of relief societies. Jones describes the nature of humanitarian action during the war as having a “dual nature” composed of an “international humanitarian sphere at the supra-national level, through both the ICRC and neutral state aid interventions, and the national level of aid where national Red Cross societies and aid movements were integral parts of the war effort” (Jones 2009, 699).96 Reporting on “Red Cross Nationalism” in Japan and the United States, Hutchinson wrote:                                                  96 It is worth noting that despite significant improvements, “most national societies are more aligned with their national governments than with the ICRC. Like the American, British, or French Red Cross Societies, most are more nationalist than cosmopolitan. They are more patriotic than neutral and impartial. For example, they followed their governments into Northern Iraq in 1991 without much coordination with the ICRC” (Forsythe 2009, 74).    62 From [the Germans] the Japanese had learned how to create an efficient military medical organization, but they did not merely copy the Germans; they also introduced variations of their own. One of these was the creation of a Red Cross society that unashamedly regarded patriotism rather than humanitarianism as the guiding principle of its activity. […] Once America entered the war in 1917, contributing money and time to the Red Cross became a kind of patriotic obsession, which brought out the best and the worst in the American genius for publicity and hoopla. (1996, 256) 97   The discrepancy between the values associated with the Red Cross and the behaviour of some National Red Cross delegates is captured in an excerpt from the Official Report on the transport of British POWs to Germany, which reads: “The story is always the same – any appeal to the German Red Cross, to the people who bore on their arms the sacred brassard which signifies the eternal charity of man to man, even in the heat and bitterness of warfare, was met with foul words and infinitely fouler deeds” (Howard 1918, 4-5). The Report also clearly contrasts the work performed by the German and British Red Cross:  officers and men are here unanimous – that the behaviour of the German Red Cross was so vile as to be almost incredible. […] One has only to think of the unfailing kindness of the British Red Cross nurses to realize the horror with which these helpless and wounded men shrank from the jeering, spitting, vindictive “angels of mercy” that they met behind the German lines (Howard 1918, 4-5).   Such accounts highlight the cultural mobilization of the national charities of belligerent countries (Jones 2009, 699).   The reciprocity regime guiding most interventions in favour of POWs is also evidence of this nationalist character of relief action. For instance, delegates of the Austrian, Hungarian and German Red Cross were allowed to visit POW camps in Russia in exchange for the Russian Red Cross’ right to visit Russian POWs in Europe (Davis 1993, 34). The Russian government’s decisions on access to its POW camps highlight how nationality and reciprocity, rather than international humanitarian principles, significantly impacted relief action and relatedly how actors providing relief were not perceived as interchangeable. For example, on 24 February 1916, the day before the Russian Foreign Office demanded the recall of the US Secretary of State’s representative and expelled all American Red Cross doctors and nurses from Russia, the War Ministry “approved a second rounds of visits by German and Austrian Red Cross sisters, this time with twice                                                  97 For more information on this issue, interested readers should read Hutchinson 1996, 256-276.    63 the personnel of the 1915 round” (Davis 1993, 34). The varying degrees of success between humanitarian actors further highlight the nationalist influence on relief action. This is variance is captured by Davis: “While the Americans had great difficulty obtaining clearance for a few carloads of food and clothing, the Swedish Red Cross managed to distribute a total of 41 trainloads, including 1,016 railcars of supplies sent from Germany and Austria-Hungary to prisoners of war in Russia” (1993, 39). In addition, the Russian government’s indulgence towards the Hungarian Red Cross, filled with the Habsburg aristocracy, is evidence that not all relief societies and their delegates were treated in the same way. Members of the Hungarian Red Cross notably included Princess Kunigunde von Croy-Dülmen, Countess Pauline von Stubenberg-Palffy, Countess Nora Kinsky and Countess Magda Cebrian (Rachamimov 2002, 180). This prestigious membership allowed some Hungarian Red Cross delegates to extend their stay in Russia and meet high-ranking individuals and dignitaries (Rachamimov 2002, 178). Not only were these Central Powers’ Red Cross delegates perceived as representatives of their home state but they were also treated as such by their government. For instance, the Austro-Hungarian Kriegsministerium formulated criteria for Red Cross delegates, one of which was “to be impeccably loyal to the Habsburg state” (Rachamimov 2002, 172). Delegates appeared to have taken their loyalty to the state very seriously, as was the case of delegate Anna Revertera, who, during a visit in Perm to POWs in December 1915, collected the names of officers she considered to be traitors (Rachamimov 2002, 176).  Finally, the distinct national characters of members of the World Alliance of YMCA and the Red Cross were acknowledged within each movement. The war itself had ruptured the YMCA movements, “dividing long-time members into belligerents” (Steuer 2009). After the armistice, efforts were undertaken to reconcile national chapters, the American and German associations in particular, and re-introduce a measure of unity to the movement (Steuer 2009). As for the Red Cross, diversity within the movement spurred much discussion on the future activities of the movement and on the need to adopt common codes of conduct (Wortel 2009, 784). It notably led to the first formulation of the Red Cross principles in 1921. They were “impartiality, political, religious and   64 economic independence, universality, and the equality of National Red Cross Societies” (Hantos 1990, 87). It is also worth noting that the scale of suffering brought by the Great War led to an extension of the Red Cross work in peacetime. In the first Circular it published following the armistice, the ICRC wrote:  The International Committee makes the proposal from its firm conviction that one of our first duties, now that peace has been restored, is to work to mitigate some of the untold suffering caused by war, and from its desire to do something for the unfortunate victims of the dreadful scourge which, it is to be hoped, has devastated the world for the last time (quoted in Durand 1984, 140-141).   ICRC historian André Durand explains this expansion on the grounds that  [The National Societies] possessed by the end of the war a large number of employees who had proved their worth, experienced administrative services, and considerable reserves of medicines and equipment. It would not have been reasonable to do away with this charitable force, whose entire organization could be put into the service at any time for those in need of assistance (Durand 1984, 139-140).  The Red Cross’ expansion of its field of activity is significant as it further muddies the category of “delegate of a relief society for POWs” recognized in the Hague Convention. It suggests that actors who had been providing relief to POWs during the war could be performing similar work during the Interwar period, without qualifying as a “delegate of relief society.” This point might seem trivial given that the relief societies intervening in the Great War did not perceived themselves, and were not perceived by others, as “delegates of relief society.” Yet, it actually reveals the limited importance of this category for organizations like the Red Cross. No discussion took place on whether to update the nomenclature sanctioning these organizations, even as they began performing new tasks. They continued to be described simply as the “Red Cross” or “ICRC delegates.”   2.5.3. Civilians  Alongside this legally sanctioned relief work in favour of POWs, relief action was also undertaken to attend to civilian populations’ needs. Contra prisoners of war, existing legal conventions had barely broached the issue of the treatment of civilians in wartime. While the Martens Clause and the provisions of the 1907 Hague Convention established certain limitations on methods of combat and safeguarding populations from certain abuses, they constituted little guidance for belligerents engaged in a total war (ICRC   65 1907; Durand 1984, 34, 83).98 Despite this legal vacuum, numerous organizations and neutral powers carried out relief efforts to respond to their plight. The same actors who intervened in favour of POWs became involved with interned civilians and populations from occupied territories.99  This mandate expansion was important in light of the scale of these new needs to be addressed. As an illustration, French historian Jean-Claude Farcy documented that 60,000 civilians were interned in France alone during the war (Becker 1998, 232).  These interventions in favour of civilian populations are noteworthy in that they brought into play a number relief actors who lacked any sort of legal recognition. They were highly similar to the legally sanctioned delegates of relief societies, and they sometimes were one and the same, yet, the work they performed was still not sanctioned, their organization was still not recognized – the Hague Convention recognized “relief societies for POWs” – and they were still not recognized in international law. This made the ability of these actors to perform their work entirely dependent on the benevolence of states, as they had less leverage to justify their work.   Given the similarity between the plight of interned civilians and POWs, the ICRC, the Vatican and neutral powers extended their work in favour of POWs to these civilians. The ICRC dedicated a section of the IPOWA to civilians and became engaged in “forwarding correspondence, tracing missing persons, exchanging news, transmitting official documents” (Durand 1984, 47). The Vatican, neutral powers and the ICRC were also engaged in securing agreements on the repatriation and exchange of civilians (Becker 1998, 234-238; Steuer 2009). While the success of these interventions hinged on the assent of belligerents, the ICRC did not consult or try to secure the acquiescence of states on its mandate extension.  The ICRC perceived acting in favour of “civilian victims of war” to be a natural extension of its mandate because of the similarity in situation                                                  98 The Martens Clause was introduced into the Preamble to the 1899 Convention. It states: “Until a more complete code of the laws of war is issued, the High Contracting Parties think it right to declare that in cases not included in the Regulations adopted by them, populations and belligerents remain under the protection and empire of the principles of international law, as they result from the usages established between civilized nations, from the laws of humanity and the requirements of the public conscience.” (ICRC 1899) 99 It is worth noting that while the YMCA did carry out some relief action in favour of interned civilians, it principally remained focussed on attending to the plight of POWs (Steuer 2009).   66 between civilian victims and prisoners of war (ICRC 2005a). In 1916, the ICRC further expanded its scope of activity to include political detainees, penal-law prisoners and hostages (Durand 1984, 216).   While the needs of interned civilians were attended to by a small number of organizations, the scale of the devastation caused by the Great War spurred the creation and involvement of numerous organizations in favour of civilian populations (American Red Cross 2012). Although no precise data exist on the scale of humanitarian involvement during the war, the fact that 25,000 American women were deployed nevertheless gives an idea of the scale of the humanitarian effort undertaken (The Morgan Library and Museum n.d.).100 These organizations provided assistance to European populations in the medical, nutritional, well-being and reconstruction fields. Interestingly, these organizations were similar to relief societies for POWs in requiring the consent of states to carry out their interventions and having their employees being closely associated with their organization (Bardol 1920-21). These organizations also presented themselves as similar to recognized relief societies by using a similar rhetoric.  Although employees of these organizations did not need to gain access to POW or internment camps, they were closely associated with their organization, thus preventing the emergence of a common identity. Employees of organizations were perceived as distinct notably through their use of different uniforms or distinctive signs and their work in different domains or locales (Bartol 1920-21). For example the American Committee for Devastated France (ACDF) was highly active in northeastern France and was the main organization operating in certain localities. This prompted more exclusive encounters with civilian populations with the effect of these employees being specifically identified and, in this case, referred to as “dames américaines” (American ladies) rather than more generic designations (Morgan 1917-19). Another employee of the ACDF recounted a discussion with returned civilians who told her that without the food packages distributed by Hoover (founder of the Committee for Relief of Belgium), they                                                  100 It is worth mentioning that this data problem remains acute to this day where there exists no authoritative data on the number of humanitarian workers. (Interview with Dr. Robin Coupland, Geneva, 2012)    67 would have died of starvation (Bartol 1920-21). The ability of civilian populations to identify relief providers illustrates the sensitivity of civilians to the distinctiveness of each organization. In addition to incidental distinctiveness deriving from exclusive encounters, the Red Cross made efforts to distinguish itself from its peers. As one of the most prominent organizations in the field, this may have prevented populations receiving relief from seeing all these actors as similar. For instance, in a letter to her mother, Anne Morgan, who ran the ACDF wrote: “The Red Cross goes on being very nice to us, though they don’t want us to say anything about it” (Morgan 1917-19).   The rhetoric and domain of intervention of such relief organizations was also highly reminiscent to the Red Cross. This reminiscence had the effect of positioning these organizations as a similar type of actor.101 For instance, the American Committee for the Relief of Belgium (which later became the Commission for Relief of Belgium) (CRB), was concerned with the situation in occupied Belgium and succeeded in delivering more than 5 million tons of food to Belgium by presenting its work as “work of mercy” and independent from the conflict (Gay 1929; Barnett 2011, 87). Also, the American Committee for Devastated France presented itself as being particularly well-suited to attend to French civilians’ needs because it was external to the conflict and provided voluntary work (American Committee for Devastated France 1918-19).102 Similar to the Red Cross, most of these newly formed organizations expanded their scope of intervention to respond to the needs created by the war. For example, even if established to assist French reconstruction, the German offensive of April 1918 incited the ACDF to attend to refugees’ and soldiers’ needs (American Committee for Devastated France 1918-19, 13-14).                                                   101 To this day, there is no agreed upon definition of “humanitarian organization.” The humanitarian sphere holds little barriers to entry and is devoid of adjudication criteria. However, given that these newly-formed organizations shared the Red Cross’ domain of activity and rhetoric, and have been perceived as such post facto, one would be hard pressed to not consider them as humanitarian organizations (Barnett 2011, 87).  102 The annual report of the ACDF reads: “The French government realizing that the strength and morale of its armies were to a great extent dependent on the well-being of the civilians in the rear and on the productivity of the soil, encouraged the civilians, wherever and whenever possible, to return to the ruins of their homes and to cultivate their soil – in short, to re-weave the fabric of their former community life. Obviously this could not be accomplished with France at war without such aid and encouragement as only an organization such as this Committee, supported by its friends in America and carried on by voluntary work, could provide” (American Committee for Devastated France 1918-19, 3-4).   68  In sum, the Great War witnessed the involvement of numerous actors to attend to POWs’ and civilians’ needs. Alongside legally sanctioned delegates of relief societies for POWs, actors lacking legal recognition performed valuable work in favour of civilian populations. The legal distinction between these categories of actors was to disappear by the time of the 1949 Geneva Conventions. I examine this episode of legal codification in the next chapter.    2.6. Conclusion  What does the discussion in this chapter reveal about the first humanitarian workers? First, the emergence of humanitarian workers as an actor originated in a widespread concern for the treatment of prisoners of war and was first recognized in the 1899 Hague Convention. Second, these actors performed tremendous work during the First World War were not perceived as belonging to a common category of actor (i.e. delegates of relief societies for POWs). Instead, they remained closely associated with their organization and country of origin. This situation stemmed from the independent, disjointed and nationalist character of relief action during WWI. Still, the universality of this perception of relief workers should be qualified. While the 1899 Hague Convention was adopted by states from different regions – Asia, Europe and the Americas – numerous state parties did not directly participate in WWI. For instance, eighteen Central and South American states, out of a total of 49 state parties, did not fight on the Great War battlefields.103 While these states’ populations and leaders may have become aware of the close “organization association” and nationalistic character of relief action through                                                  103 I only mention 49 state parties as the 50th state party was South Africa and it only ratified the 1899 Hague Convention in 1978. The Central and South American countries parties to the 1899 Hague Conventions at the time of the Great War were: Argentina, Bolivia, Brazil, Chile, Colombia, Cuba, The Dominican Republic, Ecuador, El Salvador, Guatemala, Haiti, Honduras, Mexico, Nicaragua, Panama, Paraguay, Peru, Uruguay and Venezuela. Out of the nineteen listed, only Brazil directly participated in the war. Yet, at it joined the Allies only in late 1917, Brazilian troops’ encounter with relief workers is expected to have been minimal. Other countries, such as Cuba, made declarations of war but did not send troops to fight in Europe.    69 reading newspapers, as well as ICRC and YMCA publications, one can presume that their perception was not as clear as for states that experienced the war. Third, work in favour of civilian populations was first undertaken by actors devoid of legal recognition and developed from practice, which grew due to what we might call in theoretical terms functionalist mechanisms and reciprocity.  This lack of common identity for relief workers is significant because it help account for the absence of a norm of humanitarian security in that period. Despite that the security of relief workers does not seem to have been an important issue during the Great War – in light of the general silence on this question in academic work and the documents of relevant organizations – the recognition of a category of actor is the sine qua non of the existence of a protective norm. I discuss this issue more fully in the next chapter and show how humanitarian workers came to be perceived as a category of actor.     Chapter 3: The emergence of the humanitarian worker as inviolate actor: humanitarian security as means   “We know, of course, that humanitarian aid will never be risk-free. Sadly, there will always be casualties amongst relief staff. While this is a major concern, however, it is not the principal one. Both I and you, I am sure, are increasingly worried whether it will continue to be possible to provide aid at all in numerous places around the world. Even more, we are all worried about what is happening to people we cannot reach today - or what will happen if the worst comes to the worst as it did in Eastern Zaire. Security, therefore, needs to be at the top of all our agendas because, essentially, it is a necessary precondition for helping those who rely on us for their survival.” - Emma Bonino, European Commissioner for Humanitarian Affairs (1998)   The period between the end of the Great War and the fall of the Soviet Union witnessed many important events and developments in world politics – World War II and the Cold War to name but two examples –, as well as in the humanitarian sphere – such as the growth and diversification of humanitarian actors, and the adoption of the four Geneva Conventions in 1949 and their two Additional Protocols in 1977. Despite these many developments, I contend that the norm of humanitarian security did not emerge during these seven decades. Rather, the norm developed and grew in prominence after the end of the Cold War. Concern for the security of humanitarian workers in the 1990s is notably manifest in the proliferation of declarations and legal documents condemning attacks against humanitarian workers in international fora as well as in humanitarian organizations’ growing involvement in security. I argue that the development of the norm of humanitarian security in the 1990s is due to the convergence of three developments: (1) the increasing recognition of humanitarian workers as a category of actor; (2) the growing number of security incidents involving humanitarian workers; and (3) the international community’s commitment to and involvement in humanitarian assistance. The norm of humanitarian assistance captures this commitment to assistance and signifies that when lacking, individuals should receive the material goods and services necessary for their survival, health and safety (Minear and Weiss 1995, 38).104 Whereas the first                                                  104 Humanitarian assistance can be comprised of an array of activities. Jakovljević captures this breadth when writing: “it should include the supply of material goods to meet vital necessities, such as food, clothing, shelter, medicaments, and even money to purchase such goods. At the same time, humanitarian assistance should include services, in particular medical assistance, social welfare services, civil defence against the effects of war or disaster (rescue, firefighting, etc.), tracing services, the reunification of families and the like” (1987, 470).   71 element was a prerequisite for the emergence of the norm, the two latter developments help account for its timing and framing in the post-Cold War period. Security incidents are portrayed as problematic owing to their impact on the delivery of humanitarian assistance. This consequentialist discourse emerged out of states’ commitment to the norm of humanitarian assistance to which the security of humanitarian workers was perceived as central.   Understanding how the humanitarian worker as a category of humanitarian actor came to be is important for this study because a clear referent constitutes a sine qua non for a norm. One can hardly abide or be guided by a standard of appropriate behaviour – be it against the use of chemical weapons or the use of mercenaries – without a prior notion of what chemical weapons or mercenaries are. However, this does not mean that complete definitional clarity is required. As previously discussed, there is no agreed-upon definition of humanitarian worker. Nevertheless, there is, since the 1990s, a notion or concept of humanitarian worker, which made it possible to talk about “the security of humanitarian workers.” I trace this development in this chapter.  The chapter is divided into nine parts. First, I give an overview of how the humanitarian sphere developed between the end of the First World War and the end of the Cold War. I do not provide a comprehensive account of humanitarian activity over these seven decades, as this has been more than adequately completed elsewhere.105 Rather, I examine the evolution of the humanitarian sphere as means to understand the genesis of two post-Cold War developments supporting the norm of humanitarian security: (1) the perception of the humanitarian worker as a category of actor; (2) the prominence of the norm of humanitarian assistance.106 Second, I illustrate the growing prominence of the norm of humanitarian security in the 1990s. Third, I discuss alternative explanations accounting for the norm development. Fourth, I provide a detailed presentation of this chapter’s argument. Fifth, I provide a historical overview of the defining moment                                                  105 Interested readers should consult Ryfman’s (2008), Barnett’s (2011) and Barnett and Weiss’s (2011) remarkable historical studies of humanitarianism. I also provide references to other relevant authors and work throughout this section. 106 I examine the growing number of security incidents involving humanitarian workers in section 3.3.   72 examined in this chapter: the conflict in Bosnia and Herzegovina. Sixth, I perform a discourse analysis of this defining moment with regard to the norm of humanitarian security. Seventh, I examine the treatment of the security of media professionals during the war in Bosnia. Eight, I briefly examine the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court and what it reveals about the norm of humanitarian security. I provide a short conclusion in the ninth section.   3.1. The humanitarian sphere from the end of WWI to the end of the Cold War   3.1.1. The Interwar and Second World War  Vitality and development characterized the humanitarian enterprise during the Interwar period and Second World War. Although these decades did not witness the emergence of the humanitarian worker as a category of actor nor a strong norm of humanitarian assistance, they are worth briefly exploring in order to understand how each of these developments coalesced during the Cold War and clearly emerged in the post-Cold War era (thus supporting the growth of the norm of humanitarian security). Specifically, I examine the growth of the humanitarian sphere – both in terms of actors and domains of intervention –, the centrality of the Red Cross and the further development of international humanitarian law.  The growth of humanitarian activity during the Interwar period is not surprising considering the scale of the destruction and suffering brought by the war, and the long road to recovery (Lumsdaine 1993, 183-191; Chabbott 1999, 227).107 Yet, this increase in humanitarian activity was not simply a response to the war’s destruction and the outbreak of epidemics, it was also a result of humanitarian organizations expanding their mandates and domains of intervention.108 For example, crossing a line it had hesitated to cross at                                                  107 For instance, the repatriation of POWs was not completed until 1922, interventions in combating epidemics in Eastern Europe took place until 1923 and reconstruction took place well into the 1920s. 108 Humanitarian organizations’ involvement in new areas of concern once their initial purpose or mandate has been achieved constitutes a natural organizational dynamic, which has been documented and theorized by Barnett and Finnemore (2004, 43). Hoffman and Weiss also discussed this phenomenon with regards to humanitarian organization (2006).    73 the 1912 International Conference, the ICRC added internal wars to its areas of concern. Its first intervention was in 1919 in Hungary. Building on their successful work on behalf of POWs, the ICRC also became engaged with the plight of prison detainees, whom it first visited in 1918 in the Soviet Union. It also conducted interviews with detainees for the first time in August 1926 in Poland and Lithuania (Durand 1984, 104, 123-138, 234).109 New humanitarian organizations also emerged during the Interwar period,110 such as Save the Children111 and the High Commissioner for Refugee (HCR).112 States also contributed to this trend by supporting the development of new organizations. For instance, the United States government created the American Relief Administration in 1919 to provide relief supplies to war-torn Europe and Soviet Union (Patenaude 2002;                                                  109 These new areas of concern were perceived and presented as “natural extensions” of existing areas of concern because of similarities in terms of protection needs, suffering and ICRC’s expertise. Forsythe nicely expresses this perception by writing: “If prisoners of war morally mattered in international armed conflict, why not detained combatants in internal wars; and why not other “political enemies” when detained? Were not all of these detainees in potential danger and thus in need of a humanitarian intermediary when in the hands of an adversary?” (2005, 34) Given that these expansions were subject to the host state’s agreement, the ICRC attributed its success to its growing prestige and moral authority (ICRC 1925). For a comprehensive presentation of the activities undertaken by the ICRC during the Interwar period, see Durand 1984, 195-246. 110 The League of Red Cross Societies created in 1919, later renamed the Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies, illustrates both dynamics of organizational formation and expansion. Building on its members’ (National Societies) experience in providing medical services to wounded and sick combatants, the League turned toward improving the health of populations affected by the war (American Red Cross 2012; IFRC 2012). For a comprehensive history of the League see Durand 1984, 139-194; IFRC 2012. 111 While the author is aware that this organization’s designation changed over the year (i.e. Save the Children Fund, later became the Save the Children Fund International Union), for ease of reading I only refer to the organization as Save the Children. Save the Children was created in 1919 by Eglantyne Jebb and her sister Dorothy Frances Burton to provide relief to children suffering as a result of the war. Save the Children played a prominent role in making children an area of concern, raising awareness about the situation of children, and advocating for the improvement of their well-being and protection. Jebb’s tireless lobbying efforts, highly reminiscent of Dunant in the 19th century, contributed to the success of the organization. Save the Children’s efficiency and legitimacy as a humanitarian organization was also heightened by its collaboration with the ICRC. The relationship between the organizations started as a patronage, requested by Jebb, and soon turned into a close collaboration. Jebb saw the support of the ICRC as central to the success of her enterprise. She exclaimed during a meeting with a member of the ICRC “[b]ut to be able to act effectively I need the Red Cross. Yes, the support of the Red Cross, the International Red Cross, is essential to me” (Durand 1984, 164). The ICRC notably supported Save the Children by acting as program implementer for Save the Children (ICRC 1925). Save the Children paved the way for similar organizations such as the International Association for Child Welfare. A notable accomplishment was the drafting of the Declaration of the Rights of the Child, which was broadcasted from the Eiffel Tower in 1923 and adopted by the 5th Assembly of the League of Nations in 1924 (Durand 1984, 164-6).111 Save the Children was the focal organization on children’s rights and needs until the creation of UNICEF in 1946. Barnett provides a concise but clear presentation of the organization, see Barnett 2011, 83-86.  112 The High Commissioner for Refugees developed during the interwar period and became the first focal institution on refugee matters. This organization provided the blueprint for the creation of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees in 1950 (Durand 1984, 205-212; Barnett 2011, 88-89).   74 Barnett 2011, 87; PBS 2011). An organization with a humanitarian mandate was also created under the auspices of the League of Nations: the International Relief Union (IRU). 113 The Interwar period’s organizational proliferation was such that the League of Nations’ International Bureaux Section started publishing a directory of international organizations to keep track of these developments (ICRC 1921; ICRC 1923).   Notwithstanding this multiplication of humanitarian actors, the Red Cross preserved and furthered its focal position, which is important because this focus contributed to its leading role in future decades. During the Interwar years, the Red Cross’ work was notably sanctioned in the League of Nations’ Covenant.114  The Red Cross is the only humanitarian organization whose work is mentioned in the Covenant. The ICRC was also very active in the legal sphere. It played a central role in the further development of international humanitarian law which bore fruit in 1929 with the adoption of two new conventions: one pertaining to the wounded and sick, and one to prisoners of war.115 However, despite tremendous efforts by the ICRC, no convention on the protection of civilians was adopted.116 This episode of legal codification is important when considering                                                  113 The International Relief Union was established in 1927 and came into force in 1932. It aimed to improve the quality and speed of response in the event of natural disasters. Although the IRU failed to distinguish itself in responding to natural disasters, it nonetheless encouraged studies on disasters and their frequency in order to improve preparedness. The resistance of the ICRC, which saw the new organization as encroaching on its territory, was instrumental in the Union’s failure (Forsythe 2005, 38). 114 Article 25 reads as follows: “The Members of the League agree to encourage and promote the establishment and co-operation of duly authorised voluntary national Red Cross organisations having as purposes the improvement of health, the prevention of disease and the mitigation of suffering throughout the world.” (League of Nations 1919) Forsythe also suggests that the mention of the Red Cross in the Covenant may be the result of the close relationship existing between Henry P. Davison, President of the American Red Cross, and US President Woodrow Wilson (Forsythe 2005, 33). 115 The deep involvement of the ICRC in international law has been the object of courses in law schools since 1925 (Durand 1984, 162). 116 Over a 14-year period starting in 1921, the Red Cross formulated principles relating to deported, evacuated or refugee civilians, consulted the National Societies, set up a commission for preparing a draft convention, and asked the Swiss Political Department to convene an international conference. The conference that was intended to study the draft convention never took place (Durand 1984, 288-292). A number of obstacles stood in the way of this convention. First, contrary to protection for prisoners of war and sick and wounded soldiers, the protection of civilians did not rest on extensive prior codification and practice. The limited numbers of provisions pertaining to civilians in prior international documents made the preparation and acceptance of a draft convention a more controversial issue than was the case for the two 1929 Conventions. Second, the number of questions examined in relation to a convention on civilians (e.g. establishment of localities or zones of security; protection from aerial warfare) slowed down the process of drafting and led to more controversies and disagreements (ICRC 1973, 76). Third, the proposed convention suffered from a problem of timing: the commission responsible for drafting the convention was set up in 1930 at the time of the economic crisis, which brought about mistrust and feelings of self-reliance.   75 the evolution of the laws of war and its protection framework over the longue durée.117 For our purpose, the 1929 Conventions are also important because they illuminate states’ commitment to and perception of the scope and meaning of humanitarian action. I mainly focus on the Convention on the Treatment of POWs because, in regards to relief societies, relief is mainly discussed in that legal document.118   The Convention on the Treatment of Prisoners of War, often referred to as the Code of Prisoners of War, provided a detailed collection of rules to improve the plight of POWs from the moment of their capture to their repatriation. The Convention contained four articles (Article 78, 79, 88 and 89) addressing relief and protection work (ICRC 1929). Article 78 repeated the authorization given to recognized relief societies to provide relief in prisoner of war camps, thereby endorsing the precedent of the 1899 Hague Convention and experience of the Great War. Article 79 sanctions the ICRC’s WWI Central Information Agency and endorsed other humanitarian initiatives of the Committee. The last sentence of Article 79 reads: “These provisions shall not be interpreted as restricting the humanitarian work of the International Red Cross Committee” (ICRC 1929). Article                                                                                                                                                  The commission’s draft report was ready for states to study in the mid 1930s, when peace on the continent was already compromised (Durand 1984, 397).  117 This episode is both illuminative of and part of a process of atonement, which individuals and communities undertake as a means to expatiate sin and wrong doings. Barnett explains that “atonement encapsulates the process of regeneration, purification and restoration of unity with humankind. Although the concept of atonement is typically reserved for individuals, a comparable process occurs in the community. Communities also tell stories about themselves, how they define material and moral progress and how they are loving, compassionate, and good. There are, though, events, that violently disrupt such self-conceptions, moments that compel the recognition of a breach between who they say they are and what they do” (Barnett 2011, 27).  The content of the 1929 Conventions also clearly responds to the brutality of  the Great War. Furthermore, these conventions are exemplary of institutions created following major systemic conflagrations in which notions of legitimate identity are enshrined. Albeit not of the scale or type of institutions such as the San Francisco Conference or the Congress of Vienna, the 1929 Geneva Conventions nevertheless clearly constitute institutions with what Reus-Smit calls an idiographic dimension. These documents rehearsed the civilized identity of signatories and notably, consecrated the legitimate and special status of ICRC in humanitarian affairs (Reus-Smit 2004c, 39-40). 118 The 1929 Convention for the Amelioration of the Condition of the Wounded and Sick in Armies in the Field generally reiterated the provisions of the 1906 Convention for the Amelioration of the Wounded and Sick in Armies in the Field, and added six new articles. One article clarified the conditions of the repatriation of medical personnel (as these rules had been abused during the Great War), whereas the others extended protection to auxiliary nurses and stretcher-bearers and, of cardinal importance, removed the si omnes clause present in previous conventions. This clause provided that in the event of a conflict in which one belligerent was not party to the instrument, no parties were bound to abide by the treaty’s rules. Eliminating the si omnes clause from the 1929 Convention is noteworthy as it highlighted growing awareness about the tenuous nature of international treaties in the event of world wars and a more profound inclination by states to abide by the agreed rules (ICRC 1973, 19; Durand 1984, 252-254; Meron 2009).   76 88 also recognized the possibility of humanitarian initiatives by the ICRC, this time in matters related to the protection of prisoners of war.119 Finally, Article 87 identified the ICRC as a potential neutral intermediary in cases of dispute. These articles are significant because they provided a means for addressing potential gaps in international law that might arise in the event of war. They also constitute the first time that a private institution was expressly named in a humanitarian convention, which speaks volumes to the prestige and authority of the ICRC as a recognized actor in the system (ICRC 1973, 20). It is, however, worth mentioning that the Convention made only two passing references to delegates, similar to the ones included in the 1899 and 1907 Hague Conventions.120 Thus, despite being the ones actually providing relief to POWs, delegates of relief societies were granted little attention.   The scale of the devastation generated by the Second World War supported the further expansion of the humanitarian sphere during the conflict.121 A number of major humanitarian organizations still operating today, such as the Oxford Committee for Famine Relief (OXFAM) and World Relief, emerged during the Second World War in                                                  119 Article 88 reads: “The foregoing provisions do not constitute any obstacle to the humanitarian work which the International Red Cross Committee may perform for the protection of prisoners of war with the consent of the belligerents concerned.”(ICRC 1929) The right of humanitarian organizations to provide relief to POWs was used extensively by the ICRC and National Societies during World War II to inquire into and act on the fate and treatment of sick and wounded soldiers, prisoners of war, civilian and military internees, populations in occupied territories, and civilians separated by war (ICRC 1947). In times of peace, the ICRC used this right to further develop international humanitarian law. While the domain of action of the ICRC in humanitarian affairs appears limitless, it is worth reiterating that the organization nevertheless had to obtain the consent of belligerents before undertaking any initiative (ICRC 1946a).  120 Article 78 reads: “Societies for the relief of prisoners of war, regularly constituted in accordance with the laws of their country, and having for their object to serve as intermediaries for charitable purposes, shall receive from the belligerents, for themselves and their duly accredited agents, all facilities for the efficacious performance of their humane task within the limits imposed by military exigencies. Representatives of these societies shall be permitted to distribute relief in the camps and at the halting places of repatriated prisoners under a personal permit issued by the military authority, and on giving an undertaking in writing to comply with all routine and police orders which the said authority shall prescribe.”(ICRC 1929) 121 Looking at the summary of ICRC’s activities can help capture the scale of the humanitarian footprint during the war. Over the course of conflict, the ICRC alone conducted 11,000 detention visits; delivered 445,702 tons of relief valued at 3,400 million Swiss francs; registered and aided 30 million people; transported and distributed 36 million parcels to camps; forwarded 24 million civil messages and 120 million items of news from and to POWs; and made 39 million index cards (ICRC 1973, 7-27; Forsythe 2005, 42).    77 response to particular situations or to address specific needs.122 In addition to the emergence of new organizations, existing entities also stepped up their intervention. For instance, the ICRC’s staff members grew from 50 in 1939 to 3921 by the end of April 1945 (ICRC 1973, 27). Moreover, states pursued their involvement in humanitarian affairs through funding or providing resources to existing organizations (e.g. the Canadian government providing wheat during the Greek famine), or contributing to the creation of new organizations to attend to specific needs (e.g. Switzerland creating le Don Suisse in 1944).123 Furthermore, the ICRC retained its preeminent position in the humanitarian sphere124 and undertook once again its information role and action in favour of POWs in Europe.125                                                  122 For instance, the Oxford Committee for Famine Relief (Oxfam) emerged as a response to the Greek famine in 1942; the Catholic Relief Services, to assist in the resettlement of refugees; World Relief, to provide food and clothing to Europe; and CARE (Cooperative for American Remittances in Europe), to provide a way for Americans to send relief packages to their relatives and friends in Europe, as the ARA had done decades before (ICRC 1973, 77-78; Barnett 2011, 112-115; Catholic Relief Services 2012; Oxfam 2012; World Relief 2012). 123 Having been mostly spared the destruction of the war, the United States was unsurprisingly in a position to spearhead such efforts. Unsatisfied with taking up a simple supporting role in the European relief effort, the US government looked to control and coordinate the American relief effort. To that end, it established the Committee on War Relief Agencies in 1941 and the War Relief Control Board in 1942, both endowed with absolute power over American organizations (Barnett 2011, 108-9). The coordination of relief was also pursued at the interstate level with the creation of the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration (UNRRA) in 1943, oftentimes considered as the first relief intergovernmental organization (IGO). Although led by the United States, the UNRRA embodied and signalled “the ambition to build a true world community with new social systems and international relations” (Reinisch 2011, 258). Also, the collective nature of this undertaking was not solely ideational but also economic, as each country that had not been invaded during the war had to contribute the value of a one-percent assessment of national income (Chabbott 1999, 232). Although dismantled in 1947 as a result of Cold War politics, the UNRRA nevertheless signalled states’ commitment to humanitarian affairs. 124 In light of its mandate, the ICRC was active in World War II’s many theaters of war. It was the main and sometimes only foreign organization intervening during the Spanish civil war and in the war in the Far East (Junod 1951, 108-130; Durand 1984, 268-270; ICRC 1973, 101).   125 As soon as the war broke out, the ICRC set up the Central Agency and offered its services as a neutral intermediary to belligerents (ICRC 1973, 40). Its ability to carry out its work in favour of prisoners of war hinged upon the belligerents being party to the 1929 Geneva Convention. While the Committee was able to carry out visits to POW camps on the Western front – visiting both Axis and Western Allies POWs – its assistance was refused on the Eastern front by the opposing Soviet and German forces. The Soviet Union was not a party to the 1929 Geneva Convention and declared its intention to abide by humanitarian conventions in its relations with Nazi Germany only on the basis of reciprocity (Durant 1984, 506). The enmity and distrust between the former allies made promises of reciprocity unsustainable. As the ICRC was only sporadically granted access to Soviet and German POW camps, these prisoners were submitted to the absolute will of camp commanders, which often resulted in a level of physical and moral degradation that frequently caused death. The effect of the ICRC’s work in POW camps is illustrated by the lower proportion of missing, sick and deceased persons recorded in POW camps benefitting from ICRC’s visits compared to camps not receiving such aid (Durand 1984, 470-521). This is not to say that the provisions of the Convention were always respected in POW camps on the Western front and that these POWs did not suffer hardship during their internment. Many breaches occurred as a result of the prevailing economic and   78  Also, as it had done during the Great War in favour of civilian internees, the ICRC extended its scope of operation to categories of actors whose protection was not recognized in legal treaties. For instance, ICRC intervened in favour of partisans, whom, when captured, were left at the mercy of their captors, which usually resulted in torture and death. The ICRC had little success in having them granted POW status after capture but was sporadically able to visit camps and provide these prisoners with relief (ICRC 1973, 44-45).126   Even though delegates of relief societies and employees of other humanitarian organizations carried out tremendous work during the Interwar period and Second World War, these actors were still not perceived as forming a coherent category of actor. Looking at terminological use is illustrative in that regard. For instance, during the Interwar years, the term “relief worker” came to be used to refer to a growing array of actor involved in social welfare, such as social workers (e.g. The Rotarian Open Forum 1919; Family Service Association of America 1932; Swift 1932; Virginia Emergency Relief Administration 1934). This expansive use of the term is not surprising considering the diversity of domains of action served by private organizations during that period. As for the expression “aid worker,” it was primarily used as part of phrases such as “first-aid-worker” or “legal-aid-worker” (e.g. Calghorn 1923; Smith and Bradway 1926; Life Magazine 1943). With regard to the term “humanitarian worker,” it started being used in                                                                                                                                                  political situation, the state of public opinion and the personal attitude of camp commanders. Nevertheless, visits and interventions from ICRC delegates did serve to limit POWs’ hunger and isolation and allowed the appeal of disciplinary decisions taken by camp commanders. The same support could not be provided to POWs on the Eastern front (Durand 1984, 470). 126 The ICRC also intervened with Allied authorities to attend to the needs of “disarmed military personnel” and “surrendered enemy personnel,” who were Japanese and German combatants captured after the armistice. The ICRC generally managed to visit these camps and provide relief (ICRC 1973, 46). During WWII, work in favour of POWs was largely the domain of the ICRC. This dominance stems from several factors including: recognition of its role with POWs in the 1929 Convention on POWs, which the Committee cited when seeking cooperation from belligerents; its extensive experience which allowed the ICRC to move quickly and secure its domain of activity; the desire of the ICRC to retain control of that domain of activity; and some states predicating the partial lifting of blockades or the provision of relief on the Committee overseeing the distribution of aid in camps (ICRC 1973, 115; Durand 1984, 493). Still, it is worth noting that YMCA continued to address the intellectual and spiritual needs of prisoners as it had during the First World War. During the course of the war, it had sent almost half a million of books. Although extremely valuable, the scope and scale of the YMCA’s work was nowhere near that of the ICRC (ICRC 1973, 63).   79 the late 1930s but generally applied to religious individuals such as missionaries (e.g. Gandhi 1941; Hawley 1941). This association is not surprising considering that the term “humanitarian” was first used to refer to the humanity of Christ (Davies 2012, 3). The absence of labels specific to what are now known as humanitarian workers illustrates and prevented the perception of these actors as forming a category of actor.   Considering the ICRC’s role as architect of the protection of medical personnel, it seems the most likely locale for reflection and action regarding the security of humanitarian workers. Yet, the ICRC dedicated little attention and resources to the security of its delegates. As an illustration, in a letter to the International Labour Organization’s administration section head in 1925, the ICRC’s head of treasury (Chef de la Trésorerie) explained that the organization’s delegates were only insured against accidents and epidemic infectious disease (ICRC 1925b). The notion that delegates could be the object of security incidents does not seem to have been considered at that time. Reflections on the security of delegates slowly emerged during the Second World War but did not translate into decisive actions. In a meeting in 1942, members of the ICRC’s Coordination Commission recognized that ICRC delegates did not benefit from the protection endowed to medical personnel. As a closing remark on this issue, ICRC President Max Hubert is reported to have said: “it could be interesting to examine, at the occasion of a future International Conference of the Red Cross, the situation of the members of Red Cross organizations not falling under Article 9 [pertaining to medical personnel] of the Convention [1929 Convention on the Condition of the Wounded and Sick in Armies in the Field]” (ICRC 1942, 147).127 While signalling an awareness of the protection gap existing for ICRC non-medical staff, the words “could be interesting” suggest curiosity rather than the perception of this issue as pressing or concerning. This nonchalance is surprising considering that ICRC delegates were victims of harassment throughout the Spanish civil war (Junod 1951, 102-130).                                                    127 The translation was made by the author. The original reads: “il pourrait être intéressant d’examiner lors d’une prochaine conférence internationale de CR la situation des membres d’un organisme CR qui ne tombent pas sous l’art. 9 de la Convention” (ICRC 1942, 147).    80 The treatment of the death of an ICRC delegate during WWII further attests to the absence of the norm of humanitarian security in that period. Matthaeus Vischer, ICRC delegate in Borneo, and his wife were accused of being part of an anti-Japanese plot, were tried by Japanese naval court and executed in 1943 (Durand 1984, 525). The court’s prosecutor justified the sentence on the grounds that Vischer possessed a revolver, transmitted information via wireless about prisoners of war and interned civilians, possessed foreign money and tried to get in touch with the internees (Junod 1951, 302-304). The ICRC was only informed of the execution of Vischer and his wife in August 1945, almost two years after the fact, and, once notified, it did not demonstrate much eagerness to be provided with information on that case. Rather, it was the Swiss government, and not the ICRC, that took charge of this affair. This suggests that the “Vischer case” was perceived by the Swiss government to be first and foremost a matter of the death of Swiss nationals abroad rather than the death of ICRC delegates (ICRC 1946b).128 Also, when revealed, this case spurred little reaction from governments or media.129 This case significantly contrasts with the situation prevailing in the 1990s and 2000s where attacks produce much reaction and condemnation by the public and governments.130   3.1.2. The Cold War: development of the humanitarian sphere                                                    128 The author thanks Mr. Daniel Palmieri for providing this piece of information and analysis.  129 This limited reaction may stem from the timing of this announcement, which took place soon after the discovery of the Nazi concentration camps and of the Japanese atrocities towards civilians and POWs.  130 It is certain that security incidents involving humanitarian workers are more thoroughly reported in the 1990s and 2000s than during the first half of the century considering that most humanitarian organizations only adopted reporting mechanism, if at all, in the late 1990s and 2000s However, it is worth clarifying that the case of the security of humanitarian workers is not analogous to that of the phenomenon of wartime rape that has been plaguing conflicts since centuries but only emerged as “an issue” in the 1990s. Security incidents involving humanitarian workers have not been a constant in armed conflicts throughout the 20th century. Rather, the number of security incidents significantly increased in the 1990s as a result of the stark growth in the number of humanitarian workers and their involvement in more dangerous environments (in opposition to visit to internment camps during WWI). Considering that to this day,  numerous humanitarian organizations lack reporting mechanisms, it is possible that some security incidents that occurred in the first half of the twentieth century went unreported. Still, the ICRC, that has been documenting the deaths of its delegates, reports that ten delegates died during World War II, half of which, of natural causes (e.g. disease) (ICRC 1948, 64-65). Although the ICRC did not report the number of local collaborators who lost their lives during the conflict, the death of five expatriate delegates during the war remains small in comparison with the 1990s where, for instance, nine expatriate ICRC delegates died in Somalia and six in Ethiopia in 1998 alone (Humanitarian Outcomes 2013).     81 The utter desecration of the idea of humanity witnessed during World War II did not sound the death knell of humanitarian ideas and interest (Barnett and Weiss 2011, 45). Rather, the Cold War was a period of much development and action in the realm of humanitarianism.131 The suffering and destruction brought by World War II as well as the decolonization and numerous wars that populated the Cold War were ideal ground for the growth of humanitarian action. The Cold War also witnessed the emergence of the humanitarian system’s modern-day structure – comprised of both legal and operational institutions. Major legal institutions, such as the 1949 Geneva Conventions and their Additional Protocols, developed during these decades. The current organizational landscape also took form. Notably, the United Nations rose as a central player in the humanitarian sphere through the establishment of numerous vocational institutions (e.g. UNICEF, WFP, WHO). On the background of and supported by this development of the humanitarian sphere, the humanitarian enterprise became an increasingly distinct domain of action and the provision of humanitarian assistance became a growing issue of concern.  Considering that a comprehensive presentation of the 1949 Geneva Conventions lies outside of this project, I focus instead on the Conventions’ treatment of three entities: (1) delegates of relief societies; (2) humanitarian assistance; and (3) the ICRC.132 First, the                                                  131 Some authors such as Barnett and Weiss consider the period spanning from 1945 to 1989 as heralding a distinct period in humanitarian history (Barnett 2011, 30-31; Barnett and Weiss 2011, 47-69). 132 In addition to reading the conventions, interested readers should consult Jean Pictet’s 1952 four-volume work entitled “Les Conventions de Genève du 12 août 1949: Commentaire” which is considered to be the main reference on this topic. Here is a brief overview of the Conventions. Even prior to the end of the war, the ICRC expressed to governments and National Red Cross Societies its intention to revise existing conventions and further develop the laws of war (Rey-Schyrr 1999a). The four years between the end of the hostilities and the diplomatic conference in Geneva witnessed numerous meetings and consultations with National Red Cross Societies and state representatives as well as numerous iterations of what became the 1949 Geneva Conventions. The Conventions were adopted on August 12th 1949 and entered into force on October 21st 1950 (Rey-Schyrr 1999a). Each convention delineates the rules of war pertaining to the treatment of one category of protected person: wounded and sick in armed forces in the field (Convention I), wounded, sick and shipwrecked of armed forces at sea (Convention II), prisoners of war (Convention III) and civilians (Convention IV).  In addition to the array of new and detailed provisions provided in each Convention, some general developments are also worth mentioning. First, the 1949 Geneva Conventions traded the technical term of “war” for “international armed conflict” to allow for their applicability in situations where war has not been declared, some parties fail to recognize the existence of a state of war or in the event of an occupation, even if it was not met with resistance (Green 2000, 43-44).  Second, the Conventions rejected the “all participation clause” and rather provided “for their application as between the parties, even though one of the belligerents is not a party to the particular Convention. If the latter abides by   82 1949 Geneva Conventions eliminated the legal distinction existing between legally sanctioned delegates of relief societies for POWs and delegates intervening in favour of civilians. The Conventions referred to “relief societies” without specifying in their designation the protected persons who should benefit from their work (i.e. civilians or POWs). This had the effect of conveying the likeness of all delegates of relief societies. Also, Article 142 of the Fourth Geneva Convention recognized the role that relief societies may play in favour of civilian populations.133 Significantly, it repeated verbatim Article 125 of the Third Geneva Convention pertaining to relief in favour of POWs. Moreover, the convergence of the legally-sanctioned relief societies for POWs with the unsanctioned relief societies for civilians is evidenced by the Commentary to the Fourth Geneva Convention which presents work in favour of POWs as a precedent to Article 142 (pertaining to civilians) and refers to the 1929 Geneva Convention on POWs and interventions in favour of POWs during the two World Wars as guides to understand the scope and meaning of the article (ICRC 1958).                                                                                                                                                  the Convention, belligerents are parties are obliged to observe the provisions of the Convention with regard to such a belligerent” (Green 2000, 44).  Third, common Article 3 provides the first legal provisions on the basic rules applicable in situations of conflicts not of an international character (ICRC 1949c). It is often dubbed “convention in miniature” because it aims to provide a baseline for respect of human rights and human dignity (Pejic 2011). Fourth, reflecting the widespread violations of international agreements during WWII, a common article dealing with the repression of infractions was included in each Convention (art. 49/50/129/146). Notably, High Contracting Parties agree to adopt a more proactive stance with regards to prosecution as they “undertake to enact any legislation necessary to provide effective penal sanctions for persons committing, or ordering to be committed, any of the grave breaches of the present Convention defined in the following Article. Each High Contracting Party shall be under the obligation to search for persons alleged to have committed, or to have ordered to be committed, such grave breaches, and shall bring such persons, regardless of their nationality, before its own courts. It may also, if it prefers, and in accordance with the provisions of its own legislation, hand such persons over for trial to another High Contracting Party concerned, provided such High Contracting Party has made out a prima facie case. Each High Contracting Party shall take measures necessary for the suppression of all acts contrary to the provisions of the present Convention other than the grave breaches defined in the following Article” (ICRC 1949e). 133 Article 142 reads: “Subject to the measures which the Detaining Powers may consider essential to ensure their security or to meet any other reasonable need, the representatives of religious organizations, relief societies, or any other organizations assisting the protected persons, shall receive from these Powers, for themselves or their duly accredited agents, all facilities for visiting the protected persons, for distributing relief supplies and material from any source, intended for educational, recreational or religious purposes, or for assisting them in organizing their leisure time within the places of internment. Such societies or organizations may be constituted in the territory of the Detaining Power, or in any other country, or they may have an international character. The Detaining Power may limit the number of societies and organizations whose delegates are allowed to carry out their activities in its territory and under its supervision, on condition, however, that such limitation shall not hinder the supply of effective and adequate relief to all protected persons. The special position of the International Committee of the Red Cross in this field shall be recognized and respected at all times” (ICRC 1949e).   83  Despite the consolidation of these legally distinct delegates of relief societies into one category of actor, the Geneva Conventions, as per prior conventions, paid little attention to the delegates themselves. Rather, the Conventions focused on relief societies’ work and parameters of action and treated their delegates as the means through which relief societies accomplish their work. Delegates of relief societies are often not mentioned in articles dealing with relief work and relief societies. Their intervention and role are assumed.134 In addition, the 1949 Geneva Conventions did not consider delegates of relief societies as forming a distinct category of protected persons. Rather, these actors benefitted from the “nationality-based” protection endowed to civilians. Article 4 of Geneva Convention IV defines the protected persons covered by the Convention as:  those who, at a given moment and in any manner whatsoever, find themselves, in case of a conflict or occupation, in the hands of a Party to the conflict or Occupying Power of which they  are not nationals. Nationals of a State which is not bound by the Convention are not protected by it. Nationals of a neutral State who find themselves in the territory of a belligerent State, and  nationals of a co-belligerent State, shall not be regarded as protected persons while the State of  which they are nationals has normal diplomatic representation in the State in whose hands they  are (ICRC 1949e).  Mackintosh explains the state of legal protection provided to humanitarian workers by the Fourth 1949 Convention by writing:                                                    134 For example, article 72 of the Third Geneva Convention reads: “Prisoners of war shall be allowed to  receive by post or by any other means individual parcels or collective shipments containing, in particular,  foodstuffs, clothing, medical supplies and articles of a religious, educational or recreational character which  may meet their needs, including books, devotional articles, scientific equipment, examination papers,  musical instruments, sports outfits and materials allowing prisoners of war to pursue their studies or their  cultural activities. Such shipments shall in no way free the Detaining Power from the obligations imposed   upon it by virtue of the present Convention. The only limits which may be placed on these shipments shall   be those proposed by the Protecting Power in the interest of the prisoners themselves, or by the   International Committee of the Red Cross or any other organization giving assistance to the prisoners, in   respect of their own shipments only, on account of exceptional strain on transport or communications. The   conditions for the sending of individual parcels and collective relief shall, if necessary, be the subject of   special agreements between the Powers concerned, which may in no case delay the receipt by the prisoners   of relief supplies. Books may not be included in parcels of clothing and foodstuffs. Medical supplies shall, as   a rule, be sent in collective parcels” (ICRC 1949d).   84 The logic of the Convention is that only nationals of the enemy states, or those whose state has no diplomatic representation on the territory, need supplementary international protection. Others can be protected through the usual interstate channels.  A similar understanding of those most at risk in a conflict area leads many international humanitarian organizations not to send those staff who are nationals of one of the belligerent parties in the field. Not only are these people potentially more at risk, but their presence in the field mission may undermine the neutral image of the organization they work for. It is easier to appear neutral when your staffs come from outside the conflict areas. But the nationals of neutral states set out as humanitarian workers are then only protected in the exceptional cases where their state of nationality has no diplomatic representation in the country of the mission. The majority of these people will not be covered by Geneva Convention IV. Ironically, then, if humanitarian organizations did send staff to the field with the same nationality as the parties to the conflict, they might find that they were better protected (2007, 119).   Considering that the content of IHL documents are reflective of the air du temps and of past conflicts’ experiences – the Second World War significantly shaped the content of the 1949 Geneva Conventions – the limited attention granted to delegates of relief societies in the 1949 Geneva Conventions lends further credence to the claim that these actors were not perceived as a category of actor during the first half of the 20th century.   Second, provisions on assistance to civilians were included for the first time in IHL in the 1949 Fourth Geneva Convention.135 The main clauses on assistance to civilians were shaped by the ICRC’ work in favour of civilian populations, as well as its limitations, during the Second World War. Three main articles pertaining to assistance to civilians were adopted at this occasion, namely: (1) Article 23, which made mandatory the free passage of some medical, nutritional and clothing goods intended for civilians in the context of blockade; (2) Article 55, which imposed a duty on the Occupying Power to ensure that the civilian population is properly supplied; and (3) Article 59, which required the Occupying Power to agree to relief schemes if the population is inadequately supplied (Plattner 1992, 253-255).136                                                   135 The right of civilian populations to receive assistance in situations of armed conflict can be traced back to the 1868 Declaration of St. Petersburg, which states: “the only legitimate object which State should endeavour to accomplish during war is to weaken the military forces of the enemy” (quoted in Plattner 1992, 251). As the right to assistance is linked to and part of the legal framework of protection of civilians, it is not surprising that it first explicit treatment was in the Fourth Geneva Convention – the first international convention specifically dealing with civilians.  136 Article 23 reads: “Each High Contracting Party shall allow the free passage of all consignments of   medical and hospital stores and objects necessary for religious worship intended only for civilians of another  High Contracting Party, even if the latter is its adversary. It shall likewise permit the free passage of all   consignments of essential foodstuffs, clothing and tonics intended for children under fifteen, expectant  mothers and maternity cases. The obligation of a High Contracting Party to allow the free passage of the    85 Third, the four Conventions’ treatment of the ICRC is also worth briefly outlining as it maintained the organization’s preeminent role in humanitarian affairs. The Conventions reiterated the ICRC’s right of humanitarian initiative (art. 9/9/9/10). The Conventions went further than their 1929 precedent by also recognizing the ICRC’s right of                                                                                                                                                   consignments indicated in the preceding paragraph is subject to the condition that this Party is satisfied that  there are no serious reasons for fearing:   (a) that the consignments may be diverted from their destination,  (b) that the control may not be effective, or  (c) that a definite advantage may accrue to the military efforts or economy of the enemy through the   substitution of the above-mentioned consignments for goods which would otherwise be provided or   produced by the enemy or through the release of such material, services or facilities as would otherwise be   required for the production of such goods.   The Power which allows the passage of the consignments indicated in the first paragraph of this Article may  make such permission conditional on the distribution to the persons benefited thereby being made under  the local supervision of the Protecting Powers. Such consignments shall be forwarded as rapidly as possible,   and the Power which permits their free passage shall have the right to prescribe the technical arrangements  under which such passage is allowed.”   Article 55 reads: “To the fullest extent of the means available to it, the Occupying Power has the duty of   ensuring the food and medical supplies of the population; it should, in particular, bring in the necessary   foodstuffs, medical stores and other articles if the resources of the occupied territory are inadequate.  The Occupying Power may not requisition foodstuffs, articles or medical supplies available in the occupied   territory, except for use by the occupation forces and administration personnel, and then only if the   requirements of the civilian population have been taken into account. Subject to the provisions of other   international Conventions, the Occupying Power shall make arrangements to ensure that fair value is paid  for any requisitioned goods. The Protecting Power shall, at any time, be at liberty to verify the state of the   food and medical supplies in occupied territories, except where temporary restrictions are made necessary   by imperative military requirements.”  Article 59 reads: “If the whole or part of the population of an occupied territory is inadequately supplied,   the Occupying Power shall agree to relief schemes on behalf of the said population, and shall facilitate them   by all the means at its disposal. Such schemes, which may be undertaken either by States or by impartial   humanitarian organizations such as the International Committee of the Red Cross, shall consist, in   particular, of the provision of consignments of foodstuffs, medical supplies and clothing. All Contracting   Parties shall permit the free passage of these consignments and shall guarantee their protection. A Power   granting free passage to consignments on their way to territory occupied by an adverse Party to the conflict   shall, however, have the right to search the consignments, to regulate their passage according to prescribed  times and routes, and to be reasonably satisfied through the Protecting Power that these consignments are  to be used for the relief of the needy population and are not to be used for the benefit of the Occupying  Power.” (ICRC 1949e)   86 humanitarian initiative in situations of non-international armed conflict. This latitude of action was very welcome given the limited number of provisions dealing with non-international armed conflicts. The 1949 Conventions further endorsed two precedents: the creation of a Central Information Agency137 and the right of ICRC delegates to visit detained persons  (thereby endowing ICRC delegates with the same prerogatives as representatives of the Protecting Power).138 The ICRC is also mentioned with regards to provision of relief to POWs, interned civilians and civilians in occupied territories; as a possible substitute for the Protecting Power; organization of hospital and safety zones (Rey-Schyrr 1999b).   In addition to clarifications on the meaning and scope of humanitarian action provided by the 1949 Geneva Conventions, humanitarian organizations themselves and the media                                                   137 For instance, Article 140 of the Fourth Geneva Convention reads: “A Central Information Agency for  protected persons, in particular for internees, shall be created in a neutral country. The International  Committee of the Red Cross shall, if it deems necessary, propose to the Powers concerned the organization  of such an Agency, which may be the same as that provided for in Article 123 of the Geneva Convention  relative to the Treatment of Prisoners of War of August 12, 1949. The function of the Agency shall be to   collect all information of the type set forth in Article 136 which it may obtain through official or private   channels and to transmit it as rapidly as possible to the countries of origin or of residence of the persons   concerned, except in cases where such transmissions might be detrimental to the persons whom the said   information concerns, or to their relatives. It shall receive from the Parties to the conflict all reasonable  facilities for effecting such transmissions. The High Contracting Parties, and in particular those whose  nationals benefit by the services of the Central Agency, are requested to give the said Agency the financial  aid it may require. The foregoing provisions shall in no way be interpreted as restricting the humanitarian   activities of the International Committee of the Red Cross and of the relief Societies described in Article  142” (ICRC 1949e).   138 For instance, Article 143 of the Fourth Geneva Convention reads: “Representatives or delegates of the  Protecting Powers shall have permission to go to all places where protected persons are, particularly to  places of internment, detention and work. They shall have access to all premises occupied by protected  persons and shall be able to interview the latter without witnesses, personally or through an interpreter.  Such visits may not be prohibited except for reasons of imperative military necessity, and then only as an   exceptional and temporary measure. Their duration and frequency shall not be restricted.  Such representatives and delegates shall have full liberty to select the places they wish to visit. The   Detaining or Occupying Power, the Protecting Power and when occasion arises the Power of origin of the  persons to be visited, may agree that compatriots of the internees shall be permitted to participate in the  visits. The delegates of the International Committee of the Red Cross shall also enjoy the above   prerogatives. The appointment of such delegates shall be submitted to the approval of the Power governing  the territories where they will carry out their duties” (ICRC 1949e).   87 contributed to conveying the distinctiveness of the humanitarian enterprise. The sheer growth in number and diversity of organizations during the Cold War prompted organizations to engage in reflection and discussion on the meaning and boundaries of humanitarianism. Also, the growing media coverage of conflicts and crises communicated the distinctiveness of the humanitarian sphere and familiarized publics with humanitarian workers. It is worth noting that humanitarian organizations were not only featured in media stories but they also started actively using this platform to bring attention to their work and brand.   The Cold War’s organizational growth differed from previous decades’ in that in addition to existing organizations’ expanding their field of operation and new organizations emerging, a new type or “generation” of organization came to be (Barnett and Weiss 2011, 55). This new breed differed from its predecessor by siding with the victims of humanitarian disasters and claiming not being limited by state boundaries and concerns of raison d’état (which they use to justify their vocality) (Terry 2002, 20-21). Emblematic of this new generation of organization is Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF), created in 1971 by a group of doctors and journalists.139 The experience of the Nigeria-Biafran war (1968-1970) was the catalyst behind the emergence of this new breed of organization. In brief, in 1967, Nigeria’s Ibo region declared independence and the creation of the state of Biafra. In response, the Nigerian government massacred scores of civilians and attempted to starve Biafra into submission by cutting off Biafra’s oil revenues and land supply routes (Barnett and Weiss 2011, 56). Mass starvation ensued. Limited humanitarian assistance was allowed to enter Biafra; because notably the Nigerian government insisted on inspecting relief flights and only allowed day-time flights whereas the Biafran authorities refused day-time flights (Terry 2002, 43; Walker and Maxwell 2009, 47). Some observers and humanitarian workers perceived the situation in Biafra to be a case of genocide (of the Ibo people by the Nigerian government) (Rieff 2002, 82-83). This belief made some humanitarian workers uneasy                                                  139 Anne Vallaeys’s Médecins sans frontières: la biographie, provides a comprehensive presentation of the history of MSF. Also, these commitments were shared by numerous other “sans frontières” organizations that emerged over the years (e.g. pharmacists, architects) as well as by many new NGOs, such as Solidarités and Action Contre la Faim (Ryfman 2008, 54-55).   88 with and critical of the ICRC policy of discretion, which they compared to the ICRC’s stance during the Holocaust.140 ICRC doctor Bernard Kouchner was one of those critiques. Kouchner, one of the future co-founder of MSF, is quoted to have claimed: “By keeping silent, we doctors were accomplices in the systematic massacre of a population.” (quoted in Rieff 2002, 83) The Biafra-Nigerian war spurred discussions and reflection on                                                  140 For a comprehensive presentation of the activities of the ICRC during the Holocaust, see Favez, 1988. His landmark book, based on the ICRC archives, was the first to thoroughly address this sensitive question. I here present a brief summary so as to situate the discussions that took place in the context of the Biafra- Nigerian War.  The ICRC started contacting the German Red Cross regarding the matter of concentration camps as early as 1933. Unfortunately, the German Red Cross did not prove to be the ally the ICRC expected and needed as, alongside the rest of the German state, it had become “Nazified.” The German Red Cross adopted new statutes in November 1933, with the fürherprinzip (meaning the Führer’s word is above all written law) at its core. Notwithstanding these changes, throughout the war, the ICRC kept on relying on the German Red Cross as the preferred interlocutor on matters of political detainees (Favez 1988, 42-43). In the early years of the Nazi regime, the ICRC was able to visit camps in Germany, camps of compulsory civilian labour (arbeitsdienst) in Bavaria, and various detention institutions, such as rest homes and asylums. Prior to the Anschluss, the Committee also visited political detainees in Austria. Regardless of these early “successes”, the ICRC did not actively attempt to visit camps in any systematic way (Durand 1984, 286-287; Forsythe 2005, 45). The ICRC seriously turned its attention to the fate of Jews in Germany following the Kristallnacht of November 1938.  While the Committee had been made aware of the treatment of Jews years earlier, the situation posed a particular challenge for the Committee as it was a new and difficult one: “that of a group of citizens persecuted by their own government, which refused them the rights enjoyed by its nationals but, paradoxically, would allow no foreign intervention in their favour because it then considered them as nationals.” (Durand 1984, 554). With the outbreak of the war and the expansion of the Reich, the so-called  “Jewish question” expanded in scope, as the Jews from all Nazi-occupied territories became victims of persecution. In 1942, the ICRC considered making an appeal denunciating violations of the laws of war, which would have included a denunciation of the persecution against Jews by Germany. Although the majority of the members of the ICRC were in favour, under pressures from the Swiss government, the idea was traded for a generic appeal to humanity (Favez 1988, 155-166). This episode highlights an important facet of the influence of states in humanitarian affairs – that of shaping positions, a trend that became more and more apparent in the decades following (Forsythe 2005, 184-5). It was this silence, kept throughout the course of the war, that became a source of powerful critique levelled against the ICRC after the end of the war. Despite its silence, the ICRC did remain concerned with the fate of Jewish populations and took a number of actions throughout the war. Given the German government’s attitude and positions towards Jewish populations, the ICRC concluded that the best way to assist Jews was to avoid mentioning the “racial question” and undertake general actions for all deportees and civilians. Although their work might seem small in comparison to the scale of the tragedy, the ICRC nevertheless succeeded in sending 750,000 relief parcels to Jews in concentration camps, temporary delaying some massive deportations from Hungary to Germany, distributing 30,000 letters of protection in Budapest, and organizing soup kitchens in Hungary, Romania and Slovakia. The Committee’s delivery of relief parcels to concentration camps was remarkable in its ingenuity, as it required the recipient to send back a receipt to the ICRC, thus allowing the ICRC to draft lists of detainees (ICRC 1973, 71-74). These initiatives were made possible by the cooperation of the World Jewish Congress, Save the Children and the American Joint Distribution Committee.  Numerous other initiatives were independently undertaken by delegates in favour of Jews (Durand 1984, 567-572). In February 1945, with the end of the war looming, the ICRC was able to gain some concessions from Nazi officials. Notably, a number of ICRC delegates were granted access to concentration camps under the condition that they would not leave until the end of hostilities. Albeit de facto hostages, these delegates were able to supervise the distribution of relief and solely by their presence, prevented the mass killing of tens of thousands of inmates (Durand 1984, 558-588; Forsythe 2005, 46).    89 the principles of humanitarian action, such as the value of neutrality versus public denunciation in the face of atrocities.   The Biafra-Nigerian war not only spurred important debates and organizational growth, it also drew attention to NGOs as humanitarian actors. Because the United Nations did not participate in the relief effort nor did donor governments (only through donations to private organizations), NGOs were front and center actors during this crisis. This was significant because it showcased the distinctiveness of humanitarian action as a sphere of action. Also, the media played a central role in drawing attention to the famine and providing real-time coverage, and in so doing broadcasted the work carried out by humanitarian organizations (Barnett and Weiss 2011, 56). This media presence was made possible by the rise of new information and communication technologies during the Cold War (Frohardt et al. 1999, 8-12). It is worth noting that humanitarian workers not only figured in crisis narratives presented by the news media but also became active contributors to reporting by taking on the role of witnesses to the realities of crises and conflicts.141 MSF’s ethical imperative of témoignage (bearing witness) clearly embodies and exemplifies this role. Furthermore, the increasing media visibility of humanitarian workers also resulted from humanitarian organizations’, NGOs in particular, increasingly becoming aware of the power of the news media and developing a desire to bring visibility to their “brand” (Ryfman 2007, 22-25).142  Weiss refers to this logic as “marketization” and writes: NGOs need contributions from donors who wish to have their heartstrings pulled with a story of one suffering (indeed, two is often too many for the most effective image) who is caught in the crosshairs of war and can only be saved by their donations. Thereafter the donors want to be assured that their contributions are directly helping to improve lives, which then requires the production of brochures depicting relief workers wearing NGOS T-shirts posing beside seemingly happy and well-nourished kids. Unsurprisingly a key lesson NGOs teach relief workers is how to pose with children. (2013, 2-3)  Humanitarian organizations also used the media to convey a romanticized and essentialized picture of their staff as “selfless, efficient, courageous, humble, idealistic,                                                  141 Fassin explains that the “witness has become a key political figure of our time [and is part of] the burgeoning importance of testimony in the portrayal of violence in the contemporary public arenas” (2012, 220). 142 Aengus Finucane, founder of the Irish organization Concern, wrote: “In Biafra, the many NGOs involved learned the usefulness of the media, a lesson that stood them in good stead in winning support for their work ever since.” (quoted in Rieff 2002, 84-85)   90 ethically committed, and pragmatically oriented” (DeChaine 2005, 72-88). Humanitarian organizations’ involvement in most Cold War crises provided much visibility to these “volunteer-heroes.” Humanitarian organizations’ framing of their staff seem to have been successful as attested to by Hancock’s perception of humanitarian workers at the end of the Cold War: Western relief workers in Third World disasters have become potent symbols of the fundamental decency and rightness of international aid. […] The personification of faith and hope, delivered to developing countries by our charity, she’s to be found wherever and whenever disaster strikes. She’s the one the camera focuses on briefly ministering to cholera victims in a field-hospital, the one the reporter gets a quote from in front of the feeding station, the one whose weary eyes tell you that she’s seen it all before and that she expects to go on seeing it again and again and again (1989, 3).   By acting as witnesses,