Defending democracy through foreign intervention

DEFENDING DEMOCRACY THROUGH FOREIGN INTERVENTION* David Wippman† TABLE OF CONTENTS I. INTRODUCTION ................................................................................ 659 II. DISAGREEMENTS ON DEMOCRACY.................................................. 662 III. LEGAL CONSTRAINTS ON INTERVENTION ....................................... 668 IV. PRACTICAL CONSTRAINTS ON INTERVENTION ................................ 673 A. Institutional Mechanisms for the Promotion of Democracy .............................................................................. 674 B. Political and Resource Limitations ......................................... 676 C. The Difficulties of Targeted Sanctions .................................... 677 D. Uncertain Benefits of Intervention .......................................... 678 V. CONCLUSION ................................................................................... 679 I. INTRODUCTION [A] great principle is spreading across the world like wildfire. That principle, as we all know, is the revolutionary idea that the people, not governments, are sovereign. This principle has, in [the last] decade, . . . acquired the force of historical necessity. . . . Democracy today is synonymous with legitimacy the world over; it is, in short, the universal value of our time.1 * This article is based on remarks made during a panel presentation entitled Defense of Democracy and Non-Intervention at a conference on The Role of International Law in the Americas: Rethinking National Sovereignty in an Age of Regional Integration, which was held in Mexico City, June 6–7, 1996, and was co-sponsored by the American Society of International Law and El Instituto de Investigaciones Jurídicas de la Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México. Joint copyright is held by the Houston Journal of International Law, the author, and El Instituto de Investigaciones Jurídicas de la Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México. † Associate Professor, Cornell Law School. The author wishes to thank Professor John J. Barceló, III, for helpful comments on an earlier draft of this article. 1. BUREAU OF PUB. AFF., U.S. DEP’T OF STATE, CURRENT POL’Y NO. 1240, PANAMA: A JUST CAUSE 2 (1990) (statement of Luigi R. Einaudi, U.S. Permanent Representative to the OAS), quoted in Brad R. Roth, Governmental Illegitimacy Revisited: ‘Pro-Democratic’ Armed Intervention in the Post-Bipolar World, 3 TRANSNAT’L L. & CONTEMP. PROBS. 481, 490 (1993). 659 660 HOUSTON JOURNAL OF INTERNATIONAL LAW [Vol. 19:659 This claim was advanced by the United States before the Organization of American States (OAS) in 1989, in rhetorical justification of the U.S. invasion of Panama.2 At the time, the international community was not impressed. Both the U.N. General Assembly and the OAS voted overwhelmingly to condemn the invasion,3 even though it was common knowledge that the advent of democracy in Panama had been frustrated by General Manuel Noriega’s refusal to seat the government of President-elect Guillermo Endara, and that Endara and most other Panamanians appeared to welcome the invasion.4 Most states, Latin American countries in particular, rejected the notion that foreign nations could legitimately employ armed forces or other measures of coercion to seat a democratically elected government against the will of an indigenous political elite in effective control of the state.5 Indeed, many states questioned the propriety of any attempt by foreign states to influence domestic political processes.6 In the next several years, however, the OAS condemned attempted coups in Surinam and Venezuela, and opposed the now famous “autogolpes” in Peru and Guatemala.7 The OAS also sent election monitors and human rights observers to join U.N. personnel in overseeing the electoral processes in Nicaragua, Haiti, and other member states. Most significantly, the OAS, along with virtually the entire international community, condemned the Haitian military’s unconstitutional overthrow of President Jean-Bertrand Aristide.8 The OAS even took the lead, at least initially, in promoting coercive sanctions against the de facto authorities in Haiti,9 and it acquiesced in the Security Council’s decision to authorize U.S. military intervention to restore the deposed President to power.10 This new interventionist spirit was not confined to the OAS. On all sides now, we hear that democracy is an idea whose time has come. 2. Id. Although the promotion of democracy figured prominently in the public statements of U.S. officials regarding the objectives of the U.S. invasion, the United States did not claim any right of pro-democratic intervention as part of its legal justification for the invasion. Instead, the United States relied primarily on the right of self-defense (premised on an alleged threat to American lives and to the United States itself) and a claimed right to preserve the integrity of the Panama Canal treaties. See David J. Scheffer, Use of Force After the Cold War: Panama, Iraq, and the New World Order, in LOUIS HENKIN ET AL., RIGHT V. MIGHT: INTERNATIONAL LAW AND THE USE OF FORCE 109, 121–22 (1991). 3. See G.A. Res. 240, U.N. GAOR, 44th Sess., at 1, U.N. Doc. A/RES/44/240 (1989); CP/RES. 534, OAS Permanent Council, OEA/ser. G /P/RES.534 (800/89) corr. 1 (1989). 4. See Abraham D. Sofaer, The Legality of the United States Action in Panama, 29 COLUM. J. TRANSNAT’L L. 281, 288–90 (1991). 5. See Scheffer, supra note 2, at 123. 6. See id. 7. See Domingo E. Acevedo, The Haitian Crisis and the OAS Response: A Test of Effectiveness in Protecting Democracy, in ENFORCING RESTRAINT: COLLECTIVE INTERVENTION IN INTERNAL CONFLICTS 119, 141 (Lori Fisler Damrosch ed. 1993). 8. See id. at 132. 9. See id. 10. See CP/RES. 534, OAS Permanent Council, OEA/ser. G /P/RES.534 (800/89) corr. 1 (1989). 1997] FOREIGN INTERVENTION AND DEMOCRACY 661 Prominent international law scholars tell us that representative government is an emerging international legal entitlement.11 Historians and political scientists tell us that democracies almost never make war on other democracies,12 while politicians assert important security interests in the spread of democratic governance.13 International civil servants proclaim a new shared consensus that democracy, human rights, and peace are inextricably linked.14 Heads of state routinely announce their fealty to democratic norms, and insist that leaders of other states do so as well.15 International organizations pass resolutions announcing that governmental legitimacy rests on the consent of the governed, and some condition membership in the organization on acceptance of democratic principles.16 Even developing countries, once near-monolithic in their opposition to any external involvement in domestic politics, now commonly seek international legitimacy through external monitoring and even supervision of their electoral processes.17 Perhaps most remarkable, both the Organization on Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE) and the OAS have pledged to take 11. See Thomas M. Franck, The Emerging Right to Democratic Governance, 86 AM. J. INT’L L. 46, 47 (1992) (arguing that representative democracy is gradually evolving from moral prescription to an international legal obligation in part based on custom and in part on the collective interpretation of treaties); cf. Gregory H. Fox, The Right to Political Participation in International Law, 17 YALE J. INT’L L. 539, 540–41 (1992) (noting that the number of democratic governments has increased from nine to over sixty-five countries since the turn of the century) [hereinafter Fox, Political Participation]. 12. See, e.g., Fernando Tesón, The Kantian Theory of International Law, 92 COLUM. L. REV. 53, 74–81 (1992) [hereinafter Tesón, Kantian Theory]; Michael W. Doyle, Kant, Liberal Legacies, and Foreign Affairs Part I, 12 PHIL. & PUB. AFF. 205, 213 (1983) [hereinafter Doyle, Part 1]; Michael W. Doyle, Kant, Liberal Legacies, and Foreign Affairs, Part 2, 12 PHIL. & PUB. AFF. 323, 323 (1983). 13. See, e.g., Text of Address by President Clinton to the 49th U.N. General Assembly, Sept. 26, 1994, reprinted in FRANK NEWMAN & DAVID WEISSBRODT, INTERNATIONAL HUMAN RIGHTS: LAW, POLICY & PROCESS 377, 378 (2d ed. 1996). 14. See, e.g., BOUTROS BOUTROS-GHALI, MAINTAINING INTERNATIONAL PEACE AND SECURITY: THE UNITED NATIONS AS FORUM AND FOCAL POINT (1993), quoted in Gregory H. Fox & Georg Nolte, Intolerant Democracies, 36 HARV. INT’L L.J. 1, 5 (1995). 15. See Franck, supra note 11, at 47 (noting that “leaders of other democracies around the world” have aligned themselves against coup leaders). 16. The Council of Europe, for example, makes democracy a pre-condition for membership. See Statute of the Council of Europe, May 5, 1949, art. 3, 87 U.N.T.S. 103, 106. Similarly, the OAS Charter now provides for the suspension from the General Assembly of any member state whose “democratically constituted government has been overthrown by force.” See Protocol of Amendment to the Charter of the Organization of American States, Dec.14, 1992, art. 9, 33 I.L.M. 1005 [hereinafter Protocol of Washington] (while not ratified by all OAS member states yet, this protocol amends the OAS Charter); Christina M. Cerna, Universal Democracy: An International Legal Right or the Pipe Dream of the West?, 27 N.Y.U. J. INT’L L. & POL. 289, 293 (1995). 17. See Fox, Political Participation, supra note 11, at 541; see, e.g., Acevedo, supra note 7, at 119–20 (noting that the presence of monitors from the OAS and the United Nations legitimized Aristide’s government when he won the election in Haiti). This trend began in 1989, when the Nicaraguan Government invited both the United Nations and the Organization of American States to help supervise its electoral process in order to verify the validity of the 1990 elections. See Fox, Political Participation, supra note 11, at 579–80. 662 HOUSTON JOURNAL OF INTERNATIONAL LAW [Vol. 19:659 action to reverse unconstitutional seizures of power within democratic member states.18 Was the United States therefore right, if perhaps premature, to announce democracy’s triumph in 1989 and to suggest that, in some cases, outside states may legitimately intervene to support democratic outcomes in internal political contests? Clearly, recent years have witnessed a dramatic increase in the number, diversity and proportion of states formally committed to democratic principles.19 Many states have also displayed a greater willingness to countenance foreign intervention in the name of democracy and human rights than at any time in this century.20 But in many respects, the rhetoric in this area has outpaced reality. Although intervention to promote democracy may be more politically palatable than it was in the recent past,21 no broad right of pro-democratic intervention has emerged, or is likely to emerge any time soon. There are at least three reasons why. First, international consensus on the content and even the desirability of what Professor Tom Franck has labeled the “democratic entitlement”22 often proves elusive, at least in the context of particular cases. Second, international law remains strongly antiinterventionist, despite the increasingly common but still largely exceptional cases of Security Council consensus on the need for intervention in particular cases. Third, practical obstacles, especially a lack of resources and political will, continue to hamper external efforts to promote democratic governance in undemocratic states. The existence of these problems should not obscure the importance of recent changes linking democracy to governmental legitimacy in the international system. However, change in this area is neither as extensive nor as legitimacy-oriented as many have suggested. II. DISAGREEMENTS ON DEMOCRACY The international community has long paid lip service to basic principles of democratic governance. However, it has proven extremely difficult 18. See Santiago Commitment to Democracy and the Renewal of the Inter-American System, OAS General Assembly, 21st Sess., 3d plen. sess., at 1, OEA/ser. P/AG/doc.2734/91 (1991); Conference on Security and Co-operation in Europe: Document of the Moscow Meeting on the Human Dimension, Emphasizing Respect for Human Rights, Pluralistic Democracy, the Rule of Law, and Procedures for Fact-finding, Oct. 3, 1991, 30 I.L.M. 1670 [hereinafter Document of the Moscow Meeting]; Conference on Security and Co-operation in Europe: Document of the Copenhagen Meeting of the Conference on the Human Dimension, June 29, 1990, 29 I.L.M. 1305 (1990) [hereinafter Copenhagen Document]. 19. See Fox, Political Participation, supra note 11, at 540. 20. See Acevedo, supra note 7, at 141 (recognizing that “the notion that the illegal replacement of a democratically elected government is still a matter essentially within the domestic jurisdiction of its member states, and thus immune from international scrutiny, is no longer the axiomatic precept it once was”). 21. See id. 22. See Franck, supra note 11, at 46. 1997] FOREIGN INTERVENTION AND DEMOCRACY 663 to translate this agreement on basic principles into a consensus for prodemocratic intervention in particular cases. In part, this is because at the global level the principles at issue have been stated at a high level of generality—high enough to mask important substantive differences among states on the content of those principles. As a result, large numbers of states have been able to sign on to international instruments proclaiming support for democracy and associated values, without any real agreement on the meaning of democracy or the means by which it should be given effect. Such differences among states surface when concrete measures are contemplated in specific cases. Additionally, even when states agree on the kinds of changes necessary to initiate or restore democracy in a particular country, they may disagree sharply on the role the international community should play in seeking such changes. Such differences reflect strong philosophical and political differences over the extent to which external actors may legitimately seek changes in the domestic politics of other states. In practice, therefore, cases in which broad international agreement on intervention can be achieved are the exception rather than the rule. Within the U.N. system, broad statements in support of democratic governance date back to 1948, when the U.N. adopted the Universal Declaration on Human Rights by consensus.23 Article 21 of the Declaration states that “[t]he will of the people shall be the basis of the authority of government,” and that “this will shall be expressed in periodic and genuine elections.”24 Implicitly, then, Article 21 links governmental legitimacy to respect for the popular will. But this linkage does not appear in the subsequent, and legally binding, International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR).25 Article 25 of the Covenant speaks of the right to participate in public affairs—including the right to genuine and periodic elections—but it does not purport to condition governmental authority on respect for the will of the people.26 The language of Article 25 was intentionally drafted broadly enough to accommodate the wide range of governmental systems in place among the initial parties to the Covenant.27 As a result, even Soviet-bloc states felt free to ratify the Covenant.28 From their perspective, communist states satisfied the requirements of Article 25 by affording voters access to various participatory mechanisms as well as an opportunity to ratify their leadership in periodic, albeit single-party, 23. See Universal Declaration of Human Rights, G.A. Res. 217A(III), U.N. Doc. A/810 (1948). 24. Id. art. 21. 25. International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, Dec. 16, 1966, 999 U.N.T.S. 171, 6 I.L.M. 368. 26. Id. art. 25. 27. See Henry J. Steiner, Political Participation as a Human Right, 1 HARV. HUM. RTS. Y.B. 77, 87–88, 90, 93 (1988). 28. See id. at 91 (noting that an amendment requiring a pluralist political party system was withdrawn as a concession to the Soviet Union). 664 HOUSTON JOURNAL OF INTERNATIONAL LAW [Vol. 19:659 elections.29 Thus, the cost of consensus was language broad enough to obscure sharp differences among states on the nature of their commitment to democratic rule. During the Cold War, it was nearly impossible for the international community as a whole to agree both that a particular state was undemocratic and that international action should be taken against that state. The single exception concerned the process of decolonization. A consensus gradually developed within the U.N. that the denial of majority self-rule in the colonial territories of Africa and Asia should be treated as an international delict.30 When white minority regimes in South Africa and elsewhere resisted the transition to majority rule, states could agree, within the context of the U.N. system, to apply economic and diplomatic sanctions.31 By defining apartheid regimes as per se violative of international law,32 states could treat the character of the white minority governments as a legitimate subject for international action, without exposing all undemocratic regimes to similar scrutiny and pressure. Outside of the decolonization context, however, there was little international consensus on the requirements of democratic governance beyond the general but limited insistence on periodic and genuine elections found in the ICCPR and a number of other international legal instruments. As a result, states lacked generally accepted criteria by which to judge other states’ compliance with substantive democratic principles.33 With the end of the bi-polar ideological competition that characterized the Cold War,34 there has been a widely publicized shift in the character of public pronouncements about democracy. More states have made, through treaty or by means of non-binding but still influential declarations, formal commitments to democratic governance.35 In addition, states, international organizations, human rights tribunals, and legal scholars have sought increasingly to imbue that commitment with some real content—to move beyond the simple but vague commitment to free elections contained in the ICCPR.36 The greatest progress in specifying the elements of democratic governance has been made in regional systems and, in particular, within the 29. See id. at 93. 30. See, e.g., Ibrahim J. Gassama, Reaffirming Faith in the Dignity of Each Human Being: The United Nations, NGOs, and Apartheid, 19 FORDHAM INT’L L.J. 1464, 1472–88 (1996) (discussing the comprehensive global campaign launched against apartheid in South Africa). 31. See id. at 1480–88. 32. See id. at 1478–80. 33. See Franck, supra note 11, at 80–85 (discussing the problems associated with examining and monitoring elections for compliance with the existing ambiguous standards). 34. See Fox & Nolte, supra note 14, at 3. 35. See, e.g., Joint Communique of United States-Mexico Binational Commission, Aug. 7, 1989, in 29 I.L.M. 18 (1990); Document of the Moscow Meeting, supra note 18, at 1670. 36. See Fox & Nolte, supra note 14, at 3–5 (1995) (describing efforts of “the international community to address the perennial question of what makes a state ‘democratic’”). 1997] FOREIGN INTERVENTION AND DEMOCRACY 665 OSCE.37 At a 1990 meeting in Copenhagen, for example, members of the OSCE (then referred to as the CSCE) spelled out some of the characteristics of democratic systems and the rule of law.38 This list included: 1) free elections; 2) the need for representative government; 3) accountability of the executive to an elected legislature or the electorate as a whole; 4) a clear separation between the State and political parties; 5) an independent judiciary; 6) military and police forces under civilian control; and 7) a panoply of related human rights.39 At the international level, however, support for democracy is still expressed in general terms. Most important, there has been relatively broad (though by no means uniform) acceptance of the principle that elections should entail competition among multiple political parties—something Soviet-bloc states rejected until recently.40 Additionally, substantial international agreement now exists on many of the procedural and substantive prerequisites for free and fair elections.41 Elections, however, are only part of any democratic system.42 They may assist in the formation of a government responsive to the popular will, but they do not guarantee such a government. In many countries, systemic problems override the positive effects of free elections. In a number of Latin American states, for example, entrenched militaries, powerful business elites, lopsided patterns of resource distribution, and a history of human rights abuses all sharply constrain the ability of elected governments to alter existing political relations.43 In some countries, in Europe and elsewhere, the problem is just the opposite: elections result in governments that are too responsive to the popular will of an ethnic majority, and insufficiently attentive, or openly hostile to, minority group interests.44 In 37. Conference on Security and Co-operation in Europe: Final Act, Aug. 1, 1975, 14 I.L.M. 1292 [hereinafter Helsinki Accords]. 38. Copenhagen Document, supra note 18, at 1305. 39. See id. at paras. 5.1–5.21, at 1308–09. 40. See Roth, supra note 1, at 506–07. 41. Such prerequisites include near-universal adult suffrage, the right to vote in secret and to have one’s vote counted equally with that of others, the right to campaign, to form political parties, to express political opinions without interference, to seek and receive information, to have reasonable access to mass media, and to have an effective remedy for violation of political and electoral rights. 42. See Franck, supra note 11, at 57 (arguing that the right of self-determination is at the core of democracy and that freedom of expression and electoral rights are the other two components); see also Acevedo, supra note 7, at 143 (discussing Professor Franck’s argument); Cerna, supra note 16, at 295 (stating that “[t]he existence of a democratic form of government [is] evidenced by fair and free periodic elections, three branches of government, an independent judiciary, freedom of political expression, equality before the law, and due process”). 43. See Stephen J. Schnably, The Santiago Commitment as a Call to Democracy in the United States: Evaluating the OAS Role in Haiti, Peru, and Guatemala, 25 U. MIAMI INTER-AM. L. REV. 393, 518–23 (1994). 44. See Edward D. Mansfield & Jack Snyder, Democratization and War, 74 FOREIGN AFF. 70, 87 (1995). 666 HOUSTON JOURNAL OF INTERNATIONAL LAW [Vol. 19:659 still other countries, elected governments abandon democratic principles after attaining office.45 As yet, no international consensus exists on the best way to deal with such cases, or even on the criteria that should be used to judge whether or not a particular government is substantively “democratic.”46 In part, this is because many states still do not share the West’s enthusiasm for liberal, parliamentary democracy. Some states, in particular Islamic and Asian states, view much of the recent rhetoric about democratic governance as a misplaced attempt to transplant western institutions and structures of governance to countries with radically different cultural and political traditions.47 In their view, any attempt to impose a western blueprint for democracy constitutes nothing short of cultural imperialism.48 Accordingly, although many such states have joined halfheartedly in the promulgation of resolutions and declarations proclaiming support for democracy and the right of political participation,49 they also stress that each state has the “sovereign right freely to choose and develop its political, social, economic and cultural systems, whether or not they conform to the preferences of other states.”50 Even within regional systems with a relatively strong commitment to democratic government, evaluation of actual cases may prove very difficult.51 The problem is particularly acute in the case of new or emerging democracies attempting to overcome a long legacy of authoritarian mismanagement in a climate of economic decline and political instability.52 45. See Robert I. Rotberg, Democracy in Africa: The Ballot Doesn’t Tell All, CHRISTIAN SCI. MONITOR, May 1, 1996, at 19. 46. See Brad R. Roth, Evaluating Democratic Progress: A Normative Theoretical Approach, 9 ETHICS & INT’L AFF. 55 (1995). 47. Cf. Ann Elizabeth Mayer, Universal Rights Versus Islamic Rights: A Clash of Cultures or a Clash with a Construct?, 15 MICH. J. INT’L L. 307, 318 (1994) (citing statements by representatives of Islamic governments to the 1993 Human Rights Conference in Vienna). 48. See id.; Jim Mann, Policy-Makers Race to Keep Up with New Asia, L.A. TIMES, July 12, 1993, at A1 (quoting President Clinton’s denial that “democracy and human rights are somehow unsuited to parts of Asia or that they mask some cultural imperialism on the part of the West”). 49. See, e.g., Daniel A. Bell, The East Asian Challenge to Human Rights: Reflections on an East West Dialogue, 18 HUM. RTS. Q. 641, 656 (1996) (noting that most East Asian states endorsed the Universal Declaration on Human Rights “for pragmatic, political reasons and not because of a deeply held commitment to the human rights norms it contains”). 50. G.A. Res. 150, U.N. GAOR 3d Comm., 45th Sess., Supp. No. 49A, at 255, U.N. Doc. A/45/766 (1990). 51. For example, the states of the European Union (then the EC) agreed on criteria for recognizing new and emerging states in the former Soviet Union and Eastern Europe. See Declaration on the Guidelines on the Recognition of New States in Eastern Europe and in the Soviet Union, EPC Press Release 128/91 (Dec. 16, 1991), reprinted in 31 I.L.M. 1486, 1486–87 (1992). Those states then failed to follow the criteria in decisions concerning the recognition of Croatia and Macedonia. Compare id., with Declaration on Yugoslavia and on the Guidelines on the Recognition of New States, reprinted in 31 I.L.M. 1485, 1485–86 (1992). 52. See Mansfield & Snyder, supra note 44, at 88–94 (describing problems experienced by newly democratizing states); Richard Falk, The Haiti Intervention: A Dangerous World Order 1997] FOREIGN INTERVENTION AND DEMOCRACY 667 In the states of the former Soviet Union, for example, it is relatively easy to make judgments about whether national elections have been fairly conducted.53 It is much harder to assess the extent to which those states can reasonably be characterized as democratic, and harder still to predict the consequences of taking action on the basis of such evaluations. Even when states can agree on the character of a particular state’s government, they may disagree strongly on the approach the international community should take to dealing with that government.54 Many states remain firmly convinced that the character of a state’s government is fundamentally a matter of domestic concern.55 Some states, however, acknowledge that democratic governance has become a subject of international commitments and therefore of international concern, but believe strongly that change should be effected through dialogue and negotiation rather than through coercive measures.56 Still other states, such as Mexico, are willing to countenance the use of limited coercive measures in exceptional cases, but nonetheless strongly oppose military intervention on the ground that it is almost invariably “traumatic,” subject to abuse, and often ineffective in attaining its objective.57 As a result of these differences among states, departures from democratic principles are likely to prompt a significant collective international response only in exceptional circumstances. When an elected government is overthrown by overtly anti-democratic forces, it is clear that international norms have been violated, and international condemnation can be anticipated.58 On rare occasions, as in Haiti, it may even prove possible for states to agree on coercive measures to restore the ousted government to power.59 But in general, easy cases of the sort represented by Haiti are likely to be few and far between. Precedent for the United Nations, 36 HARV. INT’L L.J. 341, 352–53 (1995) (recognizing Haiti’s still fragile state due to the acute poverty plaguing 90 percent of all Haitians). 53. See Fox, Political Participation, supra note 11, at 570 (listing four criteria used to judge whether an election is “free, fair and legally sufficient: 1) universal and equal suffrage; 2) secret ballots; 3) regularly scheduled elections; and 4) no discrimination based on certain voters, parties, or candidates”). 54. See generally Lori Fisler Damrosch, Politics Across Borders: Nonintervention and Nonforcible Influence Over Political Affairs, 83 AM. J. INT’L L. 1 (1989) (discussing the debate over foreign intervention: when and how it should be done). 55. See Fox, Political Participation, supra note 11, at 590–91. 56. See Damrosch, supra note 54, at 4. 57. See Verbatim Record of the Security Council Proceedings, U.N. SCOR, 49th Sess., 3413th mtg. at 4, U.N. Doc. S/PV.3413 (1994) [hereinafter Security Council Proceedings, July 31, 1994] (statement of Mr. Flores Olea articulating Mexico’s opposition to military intervention in Haiti). 58. Cf. Tesón, Kantian Theory, supra note 12, at 68 (arguing that “the right to resist tyranny is extremely important in international law”). 59. See Report of the Secretary-General on the United Nations Mission in Haiti, U.N. SCOR, 49th Sess., at 3, U.N. Doc. S/1994/828 (1994) [hereinafter Haiti Report]. 668 HOUSTON JOURNAL OF INTERNATIONAL LAW [Vol. 19:659 III. LEGAL CONSTRAINTS ON INTERVENTION When states and international organizations decide that a threat to or absence of democracy in a particular state warrants a response, they have a wide range of tools from which to choose. The available tools range from diplomatic pressure to economic sanctions to military intervention.60 The international legality of the response will depend on the tool chosen and the authority under which it is employed.61 In general, measures which do not entail coercion, or that are undertaken with the consent of the affected state, do not amount to prohibited intervention under international law.62 Thus, external actors are free to assist incumbent governments in carrying out agreed measures to institute or strengthen democratic practices, particularly in the electoral arena, and free to criticize states that do not employ such practices.63 Indeed, states seeking to end internal conflicts or to obtain international approval now routinely accept and solicit international assistance to supervise and monitor national elections,64 even though some states still regard the presence of international observers as an affront to state sovereignty.65 In addition, states may place conditions on diplomatic recognition, trade, financial or military assistance, loans, airline landing rights, visas, and numerous other benefits based on the character of another state’s government. Although many states bitterly object to such conditions, states are generally free in international law to give or withhold such benefits as they see fit, in the absence of contrary international agreements.66 More coercive measures, such as withdrawal of favorable trade treatment and total trade embargoes, are more controversial, but such measures are generally deemed legitimate when directed toward encouraging compliance with human rights norms—including the right of political participation.67 60. See Damrosch, supra note 54, at 28–34, 47–48. 61. See id. at 30–31. 62. See id. 63. See id. at 13–28 (discussing the appropriateness of foreign support of domestic political parties and candidates). 64. See Fox, Political Participation, supra note 11, at 541. 65. See id. at 590–91. 66. See Damrosch, supra note 54, at 28–31 (noting that state practice “suggest[s] that affirmative economic leverage to influence political developments [in other states] is legitimate”); see also Military and Paramilitary Activities in and against Nicaragua (Nicar. v. U.S.), 1986 I.C.J. 4, 116 (1986) (stating, with reference to the U.S. decisions to terminate aid to Nicaragua, reduce its sugar quota, and impose a trade embargo, that the Court “is unable to regard such action on the economic plane as is here complained of as a breach of the customarylaw principle of non-intervention”). 67. See Damrosch, supra note 54, at 31–34, 42–44 (arguing that economic sanctions are permissible if “directed at enhancing internationally protected rights”); see also RESTATEMENT (THIRD) OF FOREIGN RELATIONS LAW OF THE UNITED STATES § 703 cmt. f (1987) (“A state may . . . shape its trade, aid or other national policies so as to dissociate itself from [a state violating international human rights standards] or to influence that state to discontinue the violations.”). 1997] FOREIGN INTERVENTION AND DEMOCRACY 669 By contrast, measures involving the use of force must be authorized by the Security Council in response to a threat to international peace and security, unless consent of the recognized government is obtained.68 The issue here is whether and under what circumstances the Security Council may treat a particular government’s failure to respect human rights or democracy as a threat to international peace grave enough to warrant a collective response. In recent years, the Security Council has authorized military intervention to restore democracy in Haiti,69 end the repression of Kurds in Iraq,70 curb famine in Somalia,71 stop ethnic cleansing in Bosnia,72 and limit genocide in Rwanda.73 In each of these cases, the Council cited a threat to international peace as the principal legal justification for intervention.74 The existence of internal disorder in these cases, with the exception of Bosnia, did not entail the kind of “aggressive use of force across a boundary” traditionally understood to constitute a threat to international peace.75 This has prompted a debate within legal circles as to whether, in any of these cases, the Council has exceeded its authority under the U.N. Charter, or whether the Council effectively has unlimited discretion to determine the existence of a threat to the peace based solely on political criteria.76 68. See U.N. CHARTER art. 42; see also RESTATEMENT (THIRD) OF FOREIGN RELATIONS LAW OF THE UNITED STATES § 703 cmt. g (1987). “The U.N. Charter renounces intervention ‘in matters essentially within the domestic jurisdiction’ of Member States, unless issues of international peace and security are present.” Falk, supra note 52, at 342. 69. See S.C. Res. 940, U.N. SCOR, 49th Sess., 3413th mtg. at 2, U.N. Doc. S/RES/940 (1994). 70. See S.C. Res. 688, U.N. SCOR, 46th Sess., 2982d mtg. at 2, U.N. Doc. S/RES/688 (1991). 71. See S.C. Res. 794, U.N. SCOR, 47th Sess., 3145th mtg. at 3, U.N. Doc. S/RES/794 (1992). 72. See, e.g., S.C. Res. 770, U.N. SCOR, 47th Sess., 3106th mtg. at 2, U.N. Doc. S/RES/770 (1992); S.C. Res. 816, U.N. SCOR, 48th Sess., 3191st mtg. at 2, U.N. Doc. S/RES/816 (1993). 73. See S.C. Res. 929, U.N. SCOR, 49th Sess., 3392d mtg. at 2, U.N. Doc. S/RES/929 (1994). 74. See S.C. Res. 940, U.N. SCOR, 49th Sess., 3413th mtg. at 2, U.N. Doc. S/RES/940 (1994); S.C. Res. 929, U.N. SCOR, 49th Sess., 3392d mtg. at 1, U.N. Doc. S/RES/929 (1994); S.C. Res. 816, U.N. SCOR, 48th Sess., 3191st mtg. at 1, U.N. Doc. S/RES/816 (1993); S.C. Res. 794, U.N. SCOR, 47th Sess., 3145th mtg. at 1, U.N. Doc. S/RES/794 (1992); S.C. Res. 770, U.N. SCOR, 47th Sess., 3106th mtg. at 1, U.N. Doc. S/RES/770 (1992); S.C. Res. 688, U.N. SCOR, 46th Sess., 2982d mtg. at 1–2, U.N. Doc. S/RES/688 (1991). 75. See Falk, supra note 52, at 342 n.3. 76. See W. Michael Reisman, Comment, The Constitutional Crisis in the United Nations, 87 AM. J. INT’L L. 83, 93 (1993) (questioning whether there are any substantive limits on the Security Council when it is operating under Chapter VII, and finding the Council’s application of the term “threat to the peace” to be “quite elastic”); Vera Gowlland-Debbas, The Relationship Between the International Court of Justice and the Security Council in the Light of the Lockerbie Case, 88 AM. J. INT’L L. 643, 671 (1994) (arguing that the Council is constrained by Charter provisions, but that its finding of a threat to the peace will be challenged only in the event of “a manifest irregularity or abuse of power”). See generally Jose E. Alvarez, Judging the Security 670 HOUSTON JOURNAL OF INTERNATIONAL LAW [Vol. 19:659 However that question might be answered as a matter of law,77 it appears in practice that in almost any case of significant internal disorder, there will be sufficient transboundary effects to permit the Council to find a plausible threat to the peace if it wishes to authorize intervention. It does not follow, however, that the Council will utilize its power to authorize intervention with any frequency. Although the flurry of Councilauthorized military interventions in the last six years has led some commentators to celebrate (or lament) the Council’s apparent willingness to intervene on behalf of human rights or democracy,78 the reality is that the Council remains extremely reluctant to authorize intervention against the will of a sitting government or to rely on humanitarian motives as the basis for installing a particular government or defeating a particular party to an internal conflict.79 U.N.-authorized military intervention in Rwanda and Somalia came only after the incumbent governments, each with an appalling human rights record, had collapsed.80 Similarly, the U.N. arms embargo on Liberia post-dated the fall of the notorious Doe government by two years.81 The United States and its allies did intervene to protect Iraqi Council, 90 AM. J. INT’L L. 1, 2–4 (1996) (discussing the debate between “realists,” who oppose the idea of judicial review of the Council’s actions, and “legalists,” who favor such review). 77. In Prosecutor v. DuŠko Tadi฀, Decision on the Defense Motion on Jurisdiction, the trial chamber of the International Tribunal for the Prosecution of Persons Responsible for Serious Violations of International Humanitarian Law Committed in the Territory of Former Yugoslavia held that the question of the Security Council’s authority to determine the existence of a threat to the peace was non-justiciable. See Prosecutor v. Du©ko Tadi฀: Decision on Defense Motion for Interlocutory Appeal on Jurisdiction, IT-94-1-AR72, at 6 (Oct. 2, 1991) [hereinafter Tadi฀ Decision], reprinted in 35 I.L.M. 32, 39 (1996) (“[T]he question whether the Security Council in establishing the International Tribunal complied with the United Nations Charter raises ‘political questions’ which are ‘non-justiciable.’”). The Appeals Chamber of the Tribunal disagreed. It held that the issue was justiciable, and that the Security Council does not have “totally unfettered discretion” to determine the existence of a threat to the peace. See Tadi฀ Decision, supra, at 16– 17, reprinted in 35 I.L.M at 44. The Appellate Chamber found that such a determination must “remain, at the very least, within the limits of the Purposes and Principles of the Charter.” Id. at 14, reprinted in 35 I.L.M at 43. Nonetheless, the Appellate Chamber had no trouble finding the existence of a threat to the peace sufficient to warrant the establishment of the International Tribunal, noting in part that even if the conflict in the former Yugoslavia “were considered merely as an ‘internal armed conflict’, it would still constitute a ‘threat to the peace’ according to the settled practice of the Security Council and the common understanding of the United Nations membership in general.” Id. 78. Compare Fernando R. Tesón, Collective Humanitarian Intervention, 17 MICH. J. INT’L L. 323, 370–71 (1996) (defending the legitimacy of interventionary policies), with Falk, supra note 52, at 342–43 (arguing that interventionary initiatives are problematic at best and criticizing their use in foreign policy). 79. See David Wippman, Change and Continuity in Legal Justification for Military Intervention in Internal Conflict, 27 COLUM. HUM. RTS. L. REV. 435, 471–74 (1996). 80. See S.C. Res. 929, U.N. SCOR, 49th Sess., 3392d mtg., U.N. Doc. S/RES/929 (1994); S.C. Res. 794, U.N. SCOR, 47th Sess., 3145th mtg., U.N. Doc. S/RES/794 (1992). 81. See David Wippman, Enforcing the Peace: ECOWAS and the Liberian Civil War, in ENFORCING RESTRAINT, supra note 7, at 157, 168, 173. 1997] FOREIGN INTERVENTION AND DEMOCRACY 671 Kurds against the established government,82 but the legal basis for that intervention was tenuous at best, rendering it of little precedential value.83 In Bosnia, the U.N. authorized the use of force to deliver humanitarian aid and to protect designated safe areas, but the authorization was directed primarily at the Bosnian Serbs, not at the Bosnian government.84 Only in Haiti has the U.N. actually authorized military intervention against a sitting government.85 But Haiti is an exceptional case. The U.N.’s supervision of the 1990 elections gave the international community a stake in restoring Aristide to office.86 Additionally, the military’s human rights violations, the misery caused by U.N. sanctions, and U.S. concern over refugee flows all combined to create pressure on the Security Council to authorize the use of force.87 Even so, there was considerable opposition within the U.N. to the proposed intervention.88 Indeed, even within the OAS, which took prompt action to impose economic sanctions on Haiti following the coup,89 many OAS member states were strongly opposed to the use of force.90 Thus, the Haitian precedent is a limited one. Few other cases are likely to generate as vigorous a response. It is therefore not surprising, for example, that Nigeria’s refusal to seat the elected government of Mashood 82. See Jane E. Stromseth, Iraq’s Repression of its Civilian Population: Collective Responses and Continuing Challenges, in ENFORCING RESTRAINT, supra note 7, at 85–90. 83. See id. at 91; S.C. Res. 688, U.N. SCOR, 46th Sess., 2982d mtg., U.N. Doc. S/RES/688 (1991). The United States claimed that Security Council Resolution 688, which demanded that the Iraqi Government allow a humanitarian mission to provide relief aid to Iraqi Kurds, provided the legal space necessary for the intervention. See Stromseth, supra note 82, at 91. However, the U.S. interpretation of Resolution 688 was somewhat farfetched. Certainly, the Security Council never directly authorized military intervention against the Iraqi government on humanitarian grounds. See id. Moreover, the Secretary-General insisted that any effort to provide relief to the Kurds required the consent of the Iraqi government, which was ultimately forthcoming. See id. 84. See, e.g., S.C. Res. 819, U.N. SCOR, 48th Sess., 3199th mtg., U.N. Doc. S/RES/819 (1993) (establishing Srebrenica as a “safe area,” and demanding the “immediate cessation of armed attacks by Bosnian Serb paramilitary units against Srebrenica”). 85. See Cerna, supra note 16, at 319. 86. See id. at 315. During this period, the OAS and the U.N. were called upon more often to monitor elections in various nations. See id. Thus, the military coup obviating the results of the Haitian elections clearly called for international action. See id. 87. See, e.g., Schnably, supra note 43, at 483–88 (discussing the role of sanctions in worsening the economic plight of Haiti’s poor); Acevedo, supra note 7, at 134–35 (commenting on U.S. actions prompted by the prospect of a massive influx of Haitian refugees). 88. This opposition is reflected in the debate preceding adoption of Resolution 940. See generally Security Council Proceedings, July 31, 1994, supra note 57 (recording the discussion concerning the necessity of military intervention in Haiti). 89. See Acevedo, supra note 7, at 133. 90. See generally Security Council Proceedings, July 31, 1994, supra note 57 (recording the statements of representatives from Mexico, Cuba, Uruguay, Venezuela, and Brazil—all opposed to military intervention—during debate in the Security Council). 672 HOUSTON JOURNAL OF INTERNATIONAL LAW [Vol. 19:659 Abiola, although it generated considerable criticism and limited sanctions, has not produced any concerted or effective international response.91 In many respects, what the U.N. did not do in Haiti is as important legally as what it did do. Most important, the U.N. did not adopt any generally applicable test of democratic legitimacy as a basis for disregarding a government’s right to speak for the state on questions of intervention. The international community’s response to the military’s forcible overthrow of Haitian President Jean-Bertrand Aristide did, at least initially, call into question the authority of the de facto government to oppose external intervention.92 Both the OAS and the U.N. refused to recognize the military authorities as the government of Haiti, and both continued to recognize President Aristide and his designated representatives as “the only legitimate representatives” of that Government.93 Since military intervention with the consent of the recognized government is not unlawful, it could be argued that Aristide, acting unilaterally, possessed the power to authorize external military intervention to remove the usurpers. But when the U.N. Security Council finally authorized military intervention to restore Aristide to power, it relied primarily on its authority to maintain international peace under Chapter VII of the Charter.94 The authorizing resolution took note of Aristide’s consent to intervention,95 but the Security Council was evidently unwilling to treat that consent as sufficient in and of itself to permit military action.96 This may be attributable in part to the grudging character of Aristide’s consent. More important, though, is the fact that international law continues to place 91. See Makau Wa Mutua, The Politics of Human Rights: Beyond the Abolitionist Paradigm in Africa, 17 MICH. J. INT’L L. 591, 613 n.47 (1996) (noting only the protests of human rights groups and pro-democracy advocates following the military coup). 92. See S.C. Res. 940, U.N. SCOR, 49th Sess., 3413th mtg., U.N. Doc. S/RES/940 (1994); see also Support to the Democratic Government of Haiti, MRE/RES. 1, Ad Hoc Meeting of Ministers of Foreign Affairs, OEA/ser. F/V.1 (1991) [hereinafter Ministers of Foreign Affairs Resolution 1/91]. 93. See Ministers of Foreign Affairs Resolution 1/91, supra note 92; The Situation of Human Rights and Democracy in Haiti, U.N. GAOR, 46th Sess., Agenda Item 145, at 2, U.N. Doc. No. A/46/L.8/rev.1 (1991). 94. See S.C. Res. 940, U.N. SCOR, 49th Sess., 3413th mtg. at 2, U.N. Doc. S/RES/940 (1994) (“[d]etermining that the situation in Haiti continues to constitute a threat to peace and security in the region,” and authorizing “Member States . . . to use all necessary means to facilitate” the restoration of the Aristide government). 95. The resolution cited two letters, one from Aristide (S/1994/905, annex) and another from Haiti’s Permanent Representative to the U.N. (S/1994/910). See id. Both letters implicitly supported U.N.-authorized military intervention. See id. 96. In adopting Resolution 940, the Security Council considered the options outlined in the Report of the Secretary-General on the United Nations Mission in Haiti. See S.C. Res. 940, U.N. SCOR, 49th Sess., 3413th mtg., U.N. Doc. S/RES/940 (1994). In that report, the SecretaryGeneral states that an expanded U.N. force should operate with the consent of the legitimate authorities in Haiti, but also notes that such a force “would have to use coercive means in order to fulfil its mandate,” and that it would therefore “be necessary for the Security Council to act under Chapter VII of the Charter in authorizing its mandate.” Haiti Report, supra note 59, at 3. 1997] FOREIGN INTERVENTION AND DEMOCRACY 673 considerable importance on effective control as an indicator of a government’s authority to act in the name of the state.97 If the Security Council seriously believed that Aristide constituted the only legitimate authority in Haiti and relied on Aristide’s consent as a sufficient basis in itself for military intervention, that would have signaled a significant shift in international law. It would have severed, at least in part, the link between a government’s control of territory and its right to represent the state in international affairs. Under that approach, any state could use coercive measures to aid a deposed democratic government. But the Security Council did not pursue this avenue—presumably because of the risks of abuse associated with such an approach. Alternatively, the Security Council could have pressed further the connection between democracy and peace. It is now popular to claim that the two are inextricably linked.98 In this vein, the Security Council could have declared the unconstitutional overthrow of an elected government to be automatically, or at least presumptively, a threat to the peace.99 Instead, the Council did just the opposite: it chose to emphasize the fact that Haiti was a “unique” case.100 In short, the Council did its best to minimize the precedential significance of the Haitian intervention. Overall, the recent interventions in Haiti, Rwanda, Somalia, and Iraq, though dramatic, have had relatively little effect on contemporary international law. Coercive measures, whether to promote democracy or human rights, still require Security Council authorization. Such authorization, though far easier to obtain now than it was six or seven years ago, is still and will likely continue to be the exception rather than the norm. IV. PRACTICAL CONSTRAINTS ON INTERVENTION Even when the conceptual and legal obstacles to intervention can be surmounted, cases of coercive intervention to promote democracy are still likely to be few and far between. First, formal institutional structures for the promotion of democracy are weak, and are likely to remain so for the foreseeable future.101 Second, only extraordinary cases are likely to generate the international political will required to challenge a determined indigenous elite unwilling to relinquish political power.102 Third, it is 97. See Fox, Political Participation, supra note 11, at 600–01. 98. See, e.g., Tesón, Kantian Theory, supra note 12, at 74–81; Doyle, Part 1, supra note 12, at 213. 99. C.f. S.C. Res. 940, U.N. SCOR, 49th Sess., 3413th mtg. at 2, U.N. Doc. S/RES/940 (1994) (calling the situation a “threat to peace and security in the region”). 100. See id. at 2. 101. Cf. W. Michael Reisman, Humanitarian Intervention and Fledgling Democracies, 18 FORDHAM INT’L L.J. 794, 796 (1995) [hereinafter Reisman, Humanitarian Intervention] (suggesting that until the U.N.’s 1995 involvement in Haiti, its commitment to democracy had been somewhat “rhetorical”). 102. See, e.g., Acevedo, supra note 7, at 132 (describing the OAS response to a Haitian military coup as “the strongest resolution the OAS had adopted against any government”). 674 HOUSTON JOURNAL OF INTERNATIONAL LAW [Vol. 19:659 extremely difficult to calibrate existing tools for coercing state behavior to produce the desired ends without imposing unacceptable costs on the very people intervention is designed to help.103 And fourth, prospects for success in such cases are uncertain at best. For all these reasons, drastic measures such as economic embargoes and military intervention are likely to be rare. Instead, efforts to promote democracy in other states are likely to take other forms, including, most notably, continued efforts by international organizations and individual states to condition access to various benefits on good governance, broadly defined. A. Institutional Mechanisms for the Promotion of Democracy The U.N., the OSCE, and the OAS all have subsidiary organs devoted to promoting the spread of democracy. These organs lack enforcement powers, however. They are designed essentially to provide technical assistance to states that request it.104 Decisions that might amount to intervention under international law are left to the political organs of each organization.105 Within the U.N. there is no special set of institutional procedures for handling interruptions in democratic governance, much less for addressing undemocratic regimes generally. As a result, any effort to promote democracy through the political organs of the U.N. is subject to all the vagaries of U.N. politics. The procedures within the OSCE are little better—and in some ways worse. The Moscow and Copenhagen documents commit the member states, morally if not legally, to “defend and protect” the “democratic order” in any participating state against a violent overthrow.106 But the steps to be taken are not specified, not even to the extent of outlining the institutional procedures to be followed to determine what those steps should be. Although one author has argued that the Copenhagen Document implicitly authorizes military intervention to protect democracy,107 it seems unlikely that the signatories would interpret it this way. In any event, OSCE decision making requires a consensus among the participating 103. See, e.g., id. at 143 (describing how economic sanctions intended to punish coup leaders in Haiti had the most severe impact on the poorest Haitians rather than on the perpetrators of the coup). 104. See Cerna, supra note 16, at 327; see also M. Margaret Ball, THE OAS IN TRANSITION 494 (1969) (noting that the OAS committee responsible for promoting democracy had some right of initiative, but was precluded from acting without the assent of the state directly involved). 105. See, e.g., U.N. CHARTER art. 2, para. 7 (refusing to allow intervention in a state’s internal affairs except in response to threats to peace and acts of aggression as defined in Chapter VII of the U.N. Charter). 106. See Copenhagen Document, supra note 18, at para. 6, 1309 (mandating that the participating states defend democracy); cf. Document of the Moscow Meeting, supra note 18, at 1677–78, para. 18 (affirming their dedication to democratic principles). 107. See Malvina Halberstam, The Copenhagen Document: Intervention in Support of Democracy, 34 HARV. INT’L L. J. 163, 166–67 (1993). 1997] FOREIGN INTERVENTION AND DEMOCRACY 675 states,108 thus greatly limiting the likelihood of coercive action by the organization in response to any but the gravest political upheavals in a member state. Among international organizations, the OAS alone has developed at least minimal procedures for responding to an unconstitutional seizure of power within a member state.109 In such cases, the OAS Permanent Council must meet “to examine the situation, decide on and convene an ad hoc meeting of the Ministers of Foreign Affairs, or a special session of the General Assembly, all of which must take place within a ten-day period.”110 Although the steps to be taken are not specified, the requirement of a meeting by itself puts the organization under some pressure to do more than simply issue toothless condemnations. Additionally, a recent amendment to the OAS Charter authorizes the organization to suspend the participation of a state whose democratic government has been forcibly ousted.111 It seems probable that the existence of even these modest institutional procedures facilitated the rapid OAS condemnations of the auto golpes in Peru and Guatemala, and the initiation of economic and political sanctions against the Haitian military.112 Nonetheless, the OAS is constrained by the non-intervention provisions of its Charter113 and even more by the continued opposition of many of its members to anything that might open the door too widely to intervention in their internal affairs.114 Moreover, the OAS can only authorize and recommend coercive sanctions; it cannot legally compel its own members, much less other states, to implement such sanctions.115 108. See Helinski Accords, supra note 37, 14 I.L.M. at 1293. 109. See Reisman, Humanitarian Intervention, supra note 101, at 795–96 (noting that “the Santiago Declaration of the Organization of American States . . . has committed the members of the OAS to some regional action when a democracy has been overthrown”). 110. Res. 1080, OAS General Assembly, 5th Plen. Sess., OEA/ser. P/XXI.O.2 (1991). 111. See Protocol of Washington, supra note 16, at 1005. 112. See Schnably, supra note 43, at 416 (noting the OAS’s condemnation of coups in Peru, Guatemala, and Haiti). The OAS foreign ministers “strongly deplore[d]” the coup in Peru, and demanded that Peru return to democracy within six weeks. See id. at 462 (quoting Support for the Restoration of Democracy in Peru, M.R.E. Res. 1, OAS Ad Hoc Meeting of Ministers of Foreign Affairs, OEA/ser. F/V.2, paras. 1, 8 (1992)). Similarly, the OAS issued an “urgent response” and condemnation of the Guatemalan coup. See id. at 473. Finally, the OAS sanctions against Haiti included “suspension of all diplomatic relations with the military government, an end to economic and military aid to Haiti, and a break in all commercial ties.” Id. at 420. 113. See Charter of the Organization of American States, Apr. 30, 1948, 2 U.S.T. 2394, 119 U.N.T.S. 3, as amended by the Protocol of Buenos Aires in 1967 and the Protocol of Cartegena in 1985, art. 3(e), 33 I.L.M. 987, 990 (in force as of November 16, 1988). For a more recent integrated text of the OAS Charter, including the 1993 amendments from the Protocol of Managua, see Charter of the Organization of American States, OAS Permanent Council, OEA/ser. G CP/INF.3964/96 (prov. ed. 1996) (entered into force Jan. 29, 1996). 114. See Ball, supra note 104, at 52 (noting that most of the OAS members rejected any attempt to authorize collective action in response to domestic tyranny). 115. See Acevedo, supra note 7, at 136. 676 HOUSTON JOURNAL OF INTERNATIONAL LAW [Vol. 19:659 At present, there is simply no consensus, within the OAS or within other international organizations, on strengthening significantly their institutional capacity to promote democracy and to respond to unconstitutional seizures of power with coercive measures. OAS members remain divided on the extent to which they are willing to tolerate departures from the organization’s traditional emphasis on non-intervention.116 Division within the U.N. on intervention to promote democracy is even greater. Any substantial departure from present practice must survive the critical scrutiny of veto-wielding states such as China and Russia117 as well as potentially hostile regional blocs in the Middle East and Asia. The prospects for enhanced procedures are brightest in the OSCE. However, those prospects are still not very bright, given the organization’s emphasis on consensus decision making. B. Political and Resource Limitations The biggest potential obstacle to successful intervention to promote democracy is the difficulty of generating the necessary political will. A coup in a politically marginal state may have little direct impact on states outside the immediate vicinity.118 But a decision to intervene implicates the interests of virtually all states—most of which wish to limit carefully the situations under which coercive measures can be employed in international relations and view coercive efforts to promote democracy with skepticism or hostility.119 In many cases, states whose cooperation is essential to successful employment of coercive measures may find that their own economic or security interests militate against cooperation. In the case of Haiti, for example, many European states continued to trade with Haiti even after the OAS called for a trade embargo, arguing that they were obligated to do so because of prior trade commitments.120 Military intervention poses even greater obstacles. To obtain Security Council authorization for such intervention in Haiti, the United States and its allies on that issue had to engage in a delicate mix of political pressure and political deal 116. See Schnably, supra note 43, at 400 n.18 (discussing the division in OAS members’ sentiments toward OAS action in the event of a coup; for example, a 1962 OAS proposal to authorize intervention was approved by thirteen nations but blocked by Mexico, Argentina, and Chile). 117. See U.N. CHARTER art. 23, para. 1 (listing the permanent Security Council Members, which include China and the former Union of Soviet Socialist Republics). 118. See Shibley Telhami, Is a Standing United Nations Army Possible? Or Desirable?, 28 CORNELL INT’L L.J. 673, 680–81 (1995) (noting that states that border on areas of conflict are most affected by it). 119. See Acevedo, supra note 7, at 137–38 (noting “the continuing view of many governments that the U.N. Charter does not authorize the Security Council to act as enforcer of democracy”). 120. See Acevedo, supra note 7, at 136–37 (listing the countries which “routinely ignored” the embargo against Haiti by continuing to ship petroleum there; and noting that the United States, while initially supportive of the embargo, modified its policy because American businesses were sustaining “severe losses” from the embargo). 1997] FOREIGN INTERVENTION AND DEMOCRACY 677 making.121 The United States had the incentive to push through an authorizing resolution because it wanted to stem refugee flows and repair the political damage to the Clinton administration caused by domestic critics of its Haiti policy.122 Even so, obtaining the necessary authorization was not easy, and it is not something likely to happen with any frequency. In addition to the political barriers, military intervention is expensive in money, in political capital, and often in human lives.123 Most states do not desire to incur a significant share of the costs and the uncertainties of a coercive intervention without substantial security or economic interests at stake.124 As a result, military intervention usually requires the lead of a committed and powerful state, one that is willing to invest the necessary resources and to stay long enough to accomplish the goals of intervention.125 However, because promotion of democracy through force may prove to be a time-consuming and painful venture, few such states will be willing to risk it with any frequency. Less coercive measures are much easier to deploy, and will likely be somewhat more frequent. Thus, it is not improbable, for example, that the OAS would suspend a member state from participation in the organization following a coup, or that it would authorize economic sanctions in egregious cases.126 Unfortunately, such measures are often ineffective, and in the case of economic sanctions, highly destructive. C. The Difficulties of Targeted Sanctions The OAS, with the eventual support of the U.N., employed a wide array of economic sanctions in its efforts to force the Haitian military to accept the restoration of President Aristide.127 Unfortunately, restrictions on trade and fuel threatened to hurt many of Haiti’s poorest citizens,128 121. See Reisman, Humanitarian Intervention, supra note 101, at 799 (noting U.S. pressure on the U.N. for authorization to intervene militarily). 122. See John Sweeney, Stuck in Haiti, 102 FOREIGN POL’Y 143, 150 (1996). 123. See, e.g., David J. Scheffer, Peacekeeping, Peacemaking, & Peacebuilding: The Role of the United Nations in Global Conflict, 28 CORNELL INT’L L.J. 649, 656 (1995) (noting that a standing U.N. military force to respond to overthrown governments would be prohibitively expensive; and relating Rep. Madeleine Albright’s argument that setting aside national troops for quick response to coups could lead to “high costs with low utility”). 124. See Telhami, supra note 118, at 680 (arguing that “[s]tates are not likely to commit substantial resources to resolve an international conflict, especially in the military arena, if important national interests are not at stake”). 125. See Falk, supra note 52, at 354 (arguing that “carrying a commitment to completion should be a precondition for undertaking [an intervention]”). 126. See Schnably, supra note 43, at 407 (detailing the “diplomatic pressure, trade embargoes, aid cut-offs, even military intervention” used by the OAS in response to coups in Haiti, Peru, and Guatemala). 127. See Acevedo, supra note 7, at 132–33. 128. See id. at 143 (describing the “crushing impact” the economic sanctions have had on the poorest Haitians). 678 HOUSTON JOURNAL OF INTERNATIONAL LAW [Vol. 19:659 who were ironically among Aristide’s strongest supporters.129 To make matters worse, sanctions did more to open up highly lucrative black market trading opportunities for the Haitian military than they did to force negotiations.130 Recognizing this, the United States and other countries attempted to find measures that could be more narrowly targeted at the military and its wealthy supporters. Among other steps, the Clinton Administration froze the U.S. assets of the military’s supporters, and restricted travel to the United States to cut off weekend shopping sprees to Miami. But the military and its supporters had ample time to find ways to circumvent these restrictions, which in the end did little to achieve their intended goals.131 Unfortunately, the problems encountered in attempting to use economic sanctions in Haiti are not unusual. Such measures almost always fall most heavily on those members of society least able to bear the consequences and least responsible for the policies that resulted in sanctions in the first place.132 As a result, there has been a great deal of talk about the need to find better targeted sanctions for use in future cases. However, the reality is that effectively targeted sanctions are largely a myth. In most cases, they are too easy to avoid, and they are unlikely in any event to outweigh the incentives that lead authoritarian rulers to seize power in the first place.133 D. Uncertain Benefits of Intervention Finally, the benefits of coercive intervention are often uncertain. Some scholars, relying on arguments associated with political philosopher John Stuart Mill, claim that democracy cannot be imposed from without, and that attempts to do so are counterproductive.134 In this view, the citizens of the state must earn their freedom if it is to be meaningful.135 129. See id. 130. See Reisman, Humanitarian Intervention, supra note 101, at 799 (noting the economic sanctions created “economic opportunities for the military elite,” and that the military elite merely “added the contraband business to their narco-traffic portfolios”). 131. For example, the military had time to stockpile oil and other supplies and to find a less vulnerable place for its assets when economic pressures eased from the end of August to midOctober 1993. See Amy Wilentz, Thwart Haiti’s Thugs with a Naval Blockade, HOUS. CHRON., Oct. 14, 1993, at 19B. 132. See Reisman, Humanitarian Intervention, supra note 101, at 803 (noting that economic sanctions “more often than not . . . severely punish the victims while enriching the villains”). 133. One exception to this arose in connection with the recent “auto-golpe” in Guatemala. In that case, international sanctions, and the threat they posed to the Guatemalan economy, played an important role in persuading the military to cooperate in the restoration of constitutional government. Schnably, supra note 43, at 483. 134. See MICHAEL WALZER, JUST AND UNJUST WARS: A MORAL ARGUMENT WITH HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS 87–88 (1992) (discussing John Stuart Mill’s argument that a state may be self-determining even if that state’s people fail to establish free institutions, and that “[n]o one can, and no one should, do it for them”). 135. See id. at 87 (arguing that “[t]he members of a political community must seek their own freedom, just as the individual must seek his own virtue”). 1997] FOREIGN INTERVENTION AND DEMOCRACY 679 Recent experience, however, suggests that the consequences of intervention are variable. In some cases, democracy, or at least multiparty electoral politics, can be furthered, if not imposed, by external intervention. In other cases, however, intervention may make a bad situation worse. In Panama, Grenada, and Haiti, for example, intervention did result in the substitution of electoral politics for dictatorial rule, and although the democratic transformation is not complete in any of these countries, each seems generally to have benefited from intervention.136 In other countries, such as Liberia and the Central African Republic, intervention may end up making matters worse. In Liberia, a group of West African states intervened in an attempt to end a destructive civil war and permit formation of a democratically elected national government.137 Seven years later, however, war continues to ravage that country138 and, although it is too soon to be certain, it may be that intervention simply prolonged the conflict to no good end. In the Central African Republic, France recently intervened to help suppress an army mutiny against a democratically elected government which was corrupt and authoritarian once in office.139 In that case, French intervention seems to have preserved a government that is democratic in name only, against the will of a substantial majority of the state’s population. Ultimately, the success of intervention depends on the strength, commitment, and resources of the intervenors and, more importantly, on the extent to which the leaders and the population of the affected state view the intervention (and democracy) as in their interest. Factors of this sort are too subjective to incorporate into a legal rule governing intervention, and must necessarily be left to the political judgment of the actors who engage in or authorize intervention. As a result, there is ample room for states skeptical of the wisdom of pro-democratic intervention to oppose such intervention on utilitarian grounds in the large majority of cases where intervention might be suggested. V. CONCLUSION Few will see the international community’s present ambivalent approach to pro-democratic intervention as optimal. For some, the U.N.’s reluctance to intervene forcefully in the vast majority of those states still subject to dictatorial rule may represent a failure of political will: a refusal to shoulder the burden of bringing the benefits of democratic governance to populations ruled by military thugs and parasitic elites. For others, the 136. See generally Schnably, supra note 43. 137. See David Wippman, supra note 81, at 158 (describing the August 23, 1990 intervention in Liberia by five member states of the Economic Community of West African States). 138. See id. at 158 (noting that “fighting has continued on a sporadic basis” since the 1990 intervention). 139. See Howard W. French, Anger at French Troops Grows in Central Africa, N.Y. TIMES, May 24, 1996, at A8. 680 HOUSTON JOURNAL OF INTERNATIONAL LAW [Vol. 19:659 U.N.’s recent willingness to authorize intervention in Haiti, Rwanda, Somalia, and elsewhere represents a revival of western imperialism: a cynical pursuit of western economic and strategic interests in the name of universal values.140 Plainly, both views greatly oversimplify a complex issue. Decisions about intervention typically reflect a broad constellation of interests. Not surprisingly, though, the perceived self-interest of the intervening states tends to predominate, even when those interests are filtered through an international organization such as the U.N. Many western states now believe that a policy favoring the extension of democracy and human rights is the best way to promote both their own security and economic interests as well as the interests of people in states not yet democratic.141 At the same time, however, more immediate geostrategic interests often demand that potential intervenors tolerate or even support governments that are either undemocratic, or only marginally democratic. Such is the case, for example, with the attitude of some western states toward the government of Boris Yeltsin.142 Of necessity, then, attitudes toward pro-democratic intervention are “awkwardly selective.”143 In some cases, that selectivity may be morally indefensible, but politically inescapable. It is hard, for example, to defend the West’s anemic response to the civil war in Liberia—but it is easy to explain that response. Various suggestions have been made for circumventing problems of selectivity, including, for example, the creation of a standing U.N. intervention force.144 But these ideas hold little appeal for most governments which, though generally unwilling to intervene themselves, are reluctant to let others do so for them. The result is that in the rare cases in which intervention is authorized, it is effectively delegated to the most interested available actor.145 For the Haitian situation, it was the United States; for the Rwandan crisis, it was France. Those actors often press for outcomes which are noted as much for their compatibility with the actors’ own 140. See Falk, supra note 52, at 345 (noting that an influential magazine rejected “the allegation that interventionary diplomacy was really imperialism carried forward under the banner of humanitarian intervention”). 141. See id. 142. See Greg McDonald, Ex-Envoy Strauss Tells Clinton to Stand by His Man—Yeltsin, HOUS. CHRON., Mar. 18, 1993, at 21A (noting former ambassador to Russia Robert Strauss’ advice that the West should support Russia to assist in its continuing economic and political reforms). 143. Falk, supra note 52, at 345 n.23. 144. For a critical discussion of the prospects for and desirability of creating a standing U.N. force, see Lamin J. Sise, Illusions of a Standing United Nations Force, 28 CORNELL INT’L L.J. 645 (1995); David J. Scheffer, United Nations Peace Operations and Prospects for a Standing Force, 28 CORNELL INT’L L.J. 649 (1995); Alex Morrison, The Theoretical and Practical Feasibility of a United Nations Force, 28 CORNELL INT’L L.J. 661 (1995); Telhami, supra note 118. 145. See Falk, supra note 52, at 356 (describing Haiti’s potential precedent that only the U.N. member with some “direct interests at stake” will bear the burden of intervention). 1997] FOREIGN INTERVENTION AND DEMOCRACY 681 interests as for their compatibility with universal norms or the specific interests of the affected state.146 Even so, recent interventions cannot fairly be characterized as “imperialist.” They do not constitute “the imposition of one country’s power on another, and the removal of the victim’s freedom.”147 The United States, for example, may have pressed Aristide to modify his populist policies, but on balance U.S. intervention did far more to restore than to impair Haitians’ control over their own political destiny. In the absence of much stronger international organizations than we now have, episodic interventions that on balance benefit the affected state may be the best for which we can reasonably hope. 146. See, e.g., id. at 356 (noting that U.S. intervention may be due as much to a desire to preserve a market economy in Haiti as to promote democracy). 147. See id. at 345.