When the attention of the British Parliament and press was drawn to the involvement of Sandline International, a London-based private military company, in the restoration to power of Sierra Leone’s President Kabbah, there were probably many people who had to consult their atlases before they knew where the West African state was. This is not to say that the principal focus of Parliament and the media was upon the plight of the Sierra Leoneans, who have endured seven years of terror and brutality at the hands of rebels, government soldiers, ethnic militias and military juntas. The greatest interest in Britain was in the possible discomfiture of Robin Cook, the Foreign Secretary, who had loudly and repeatedly committed the Blair administration to the pursuit of an ethical foreign policy.

As the story broke, it appeared that Sandline might have violated the United Nations’ arms embargo on Sierra Leone by supplying weapons to forces loyal to Kabbah, with the knowledge of officials or ministers in the British government. There was also the question of how the government would attempt to reconcile its ethical position with the essential role played in the affair by Nigeria, which was suspended from the Commonwealth because of its abuses of human rights and doubts about its commitment to the restoration of civilian rule. Robin Cook is regarded as one of the cleverest and most acerbic members of the Treasury bench, and his successful campaign to embarrass the previous government over the ‘arms-to-Iraq’ scandal also marked him as a prime target for the opposition.

Before we glance at the ‘crisis’ as it unfolded in London, it would serve well to outline the context in which these developments occurred, for there are other, more important, aspects to this affair that have not attracted the attention they deserve.

Sierra Leone has been devastated by a civil war that gradually spiralled out of control after the Revolutionary United Front (RUF) under Foday Sankoh launched its insurgency against the All Peoples Congress government of President Joseph Momoh in March 1991. Since then, the war has claimed at least 20 000 lives and has forced more than half the country’s population to flee their homes. The RUF initially enjoyed the assistance of Liberian warlord (now president) Charles Taylor, who hoped this would impair Freetown’s ability to assist the military effort of the Economic Community of West African States Monitoring Group (ECOMOG) in Liberia. Even after Momoh’s government was overthrown in April 1992 by a group of rebellious officers led by Captain Valentine Strasser and calling themselves the National Provisional Ruling Council, RUF continued its campaign of random violence in the forests of the south and east. The rebels remained a mysterious force with no coherent ideology and a constantly changing composition. They persistently refused to enter into negotiations with Strasser’s regime, denying its legitimacy and demanding the withdrawal of Guinean and Nigerian troops assisting the Sierra Leone government.

The change of regime in Freetown led to the re-equipment and expansion of the demoralised Sierra Leonean army, and RUF took serious losses in the fighting that followed. However, it appears that at about this time, soldiers at the front realised the immense profits to be made from the war situation, both through the illegal mining of diamonds and the looting of civilians. RUF appears to have been allowed to reconsolidate its position, and by the end of 1994, began a series of raids from its forest camps into all parts of the country, reaching areas close to Freetown by the beginning of 1995. The depredations of the rebels were aided and abetted by the army, and the continuation of the war provided an excuse to prolong the military’s profitable tenure of power.

In 1995, the Strasser government, seeking to ensure a continued flow of revenue, hired a private military company employing Gurkhas to help secure the country’s principal diamond and titanium oxide mines against the raiders. This force was withdrawn after taking losses, however, and replaced by Executive Outcomes, a company with South African origins, introduced to Sierra Leone by mining interests that had used its services in Angola. Executive Outcomes inflicted severe losses on RUF, and also began to co-operate with local rural militias and self-defence units to curb the excesses of rebels and soldiers alike. The best known and most formidable of these militias were the Kamajors, a Mende group from the south-east of the country, based on traditional hunter guilds and skilled in bushcraft. At some time, Executive Outcomes also provided additional training in counter-insurgency to these militiamen.

By this time, Strasser found himself under severe domestic and foreign pressure to proceed with the promised transition to civilian rule. Eventually, he announced that elections would be held on 26 February 1996, but on 16 January he was overthrown by his deputy, Brigadier Julius Maada Bio. This undoubtedly constituted an attempt by the military to deflect the threat of elections. Less than a week later, RUF announced a unilateral ceasefire and offered to talk to Bio’s government unconditionally, save for a demand that elections should be postponed. If there had been any doubt about the conjunction of interests between the rebels and the soldiers, this act in itself should have sufficed to dispel it. At about this time, too, it came to light that Bio’s elder sister was part of the RUF high command. The electoral commission and other elements of civil society pressed on with their demand for elections, and received the support of the donor community.

Talks between the military government and RUF began in Côte d’Ivoire on 22 February 1996. Central to the discussions was the rebels’ sudden insistence that they would only deal with Maada Bio, and that they would refuse to acknowledge the outcome of the elections, which they would do their best to disrupt. What transpired in secret between the two delegations is open to conjecture, but in the event, it was the army rather than the rebels who appeared to do the most to intimidate the electorate on 26 and 27 February.

After two rounds of voting in which the regional nature of party support became apparent, Ahmad Tejan Kabbah of the Sierra Leone People’s Party (SLPP) emerged as president. There were few commentators who believed that he would have an easy task in restoring a ruined economy and asserting his control over a disaffected army. Kabbah was a lawyer, with some twenty years of working in the UN, but no political experience or claims to personal charisma. Nor were the results of the parliamentary and presidential elections uncontested, and even the electoral commission admitted that irregularities had occurred. Nevertheless, there was a general sense of relief when the military regime handed over power to the elected president.

The RUF insurgency continued, though the rebels switched their attentions to the north of the country, having refused to recognise the new government. Large parts of the national territory also remained essentially under the control of the army, operating virtually as a force unto itself. In mid-March, the rebels initialled a two month ceasefire, and in late April 1996, held talks with the new Sierra Leone government in Yamoussoukro, Côte d’Ivoire. A peace agreement seemed in prospect. RUF insisted, however, that all foreign troops, including Executive Outcomes, were withdrawn from the country before the process of encampment and disarmament of forces could begin. The talks stalled at this point, and the ceasefire began to look increasingly fragile.

In the meantime, the formal diamond sector had begun to stage a minor recovery, largely because of the protection afforded by Executive Outcomes to DiamondWorks properties. This company was reported to be providing logistics and security for at least one foreign aid agency, and had assisted the government with helicopter transport. Nevertheless, the International Monetary Fund (IMF) was warning the government about the expense of retaining this firm’s services, and other elements in the international community were expressing disquiet about the activities of ‘mercenaries’.

In September 1996, a number of officers were arrested in connection with a plot to murder the president. This came only a few days after 26 senior officers and 155 non-commissioned officers (NCOs) had been retired in a major purge of the army. It was a clear indication of dangerous disaffection in the military, many of whom were becoming alarmed at the prominence now afforded to the Kamajor militia, and at the prospects of retrenchment as the army strength was to be halved. Clashes between army and Kamajor elements were reported on a number of occasions. A matter of particular concern to the soldiers was that the Deputy Minister of Defence (Kabbah held the defence portfolio in addition to the presidency) was Chief Hinga Norman, formerly head of the Kamajors. Other political groups also perceived the Kamajors as an ethnic militia drawn exclusively from the area where Kabbah’s support was rooted.

A peace agreement was eventually signed between the government and RUF in Abidjan on 30 November 1996. This provided for the cessation of hostilities to be monitored by a neutral monitoring group, the withdrawal of Executive Outcomes and of other foreign forces five weeks after that, and the establishment of RUF as a political party. Two more alleged coup plots were uncovered in the following two months.

Whatever substance there may have been to the objections to Executive Outcomes’ presence, its subsequent withdrawal left Kabbah dangerously exposed. The task of protecting DiamondWorks’ assets was taken over by an associated company, LifeGuard, with a much reduced presence, and after only 89 days Kabbah was eventually overthrown in a coup.

The coup of 25 May 1997 was led by Corporal John Gborie who, with a number of his colleagues, succeeded in overpowering the Nigerian-manned presidential guard, compelling the flight of President Kabbah. The coupists subsequently released hundreds of prisoners from the central jail, including Major Johnny Paul Koroma and several other officers due to stand trial the following day for the coup attempt the previous September 1996. The coup was accompanied by twelve hours of shelling in Freetown and an orgy of looting, murder and rape in which as many as 200 people died. Koroma subsequently emerged as the head of the Armed Forces Revolutionary Council, which justified its actions partly by referring to the marginalisation of the army by the Kamajors. Koroma, a relatively uneducated young officer with a reputation for rebellious behaviour, had been close to Strasser and his erstwhile deputy, Major S A J Musa, who shortly joined the new regime from exile in Britain.

RUF, whose leader, Foday Sankoh, had managed to retain command of the movement despite his arrest in Nigeria in March 1997, now announced that it was allying itself with the new junta in a People’s Revolutionary Army. Senior members of RUF were then appointed to senior positions in the administration.

Despite the dangers involved, the public in several towns displayed their anger at these developments, and stay-aways were organised. Western governments not only voiced disapproval but, having failed to persuade the coupists to step down, evacuated their citizens.

Before May was out, another 700 Nigerian troops had arrived in Freetown to reinforce the 900-strong contingent already deployed in the country under a defence pact signed with Kabbah’s government in March. The Nigerians soon gave notice of their intentions, shelling the junta’s headquarters from warships on 2 June. The accompanying operations on land proved disastrous, however, and 300 Nigerians were captured by the junta and their RUF allies, and several civilians were killed in fighting around Freetown.

The Nigerian warships withdrew on 21 June, but Nigerian troops held out at the international airport at Lungi and a base at Jui, just outside Freetown, positions they continued to reinforce and re-equip. Nigeria had acted unilaterally at first, though claiming ECOWAS sanction, which was eventually forthcoming. In the interior, clashes continued between junta/RUF forces and the Kamajors.

It was shortly after this that President Kabbah, now in Conakry in neighbouring Guinea, made contact with Sandline International, a company also closely associated with Executive Outcomes and DiamondWorks. According to the account of events later released by Sandline’s lawyers, the initial contact was initiated by Kabbah at the suggestion of Peter Penfold, the British High Commissioner to Sierra Leone, then also sheltering in Conakry. Kabbah had arranged for funding for the Sandline operation through Rakesh Saxena, a banker wanted for embezzlement in Thailand and then on bail in Vancouver on charges of travelling on a false passport. Saxena was evidently anxious either to protect or extend his own diamond operations in Sierra Leone and was promised that, in return for his financial assistance, a restored government would grant him certain concessions. By the middle of July, Tim Spicer, the head of Sandline, had flown to West Africa to see Kabbah and ECOMOG. Details of the role Sandline was to play, remain unclear, but the training of the Kamajors was mentioned, as was the supply of weapons to re-arm that force. It was in this connection that Spicer eventually arranged for the delivery of 35 tons of arms and ammunition from Bulgaria, initially to ECOMOG, for onward shipment to the militias. Sandline also appears to have been involved in co-ordinating the planning of the campaign to unseat Koroma, the provision of logistical support, control of ECOMOG air operations, including the services of two helicopters, and intelligence gathering. For reasons that will become clear, it will eventually prove important to discover just how significant the contribution was that Sandline was able to make to ECOMOG’s subsequent operations.

By the end of July, Koroma was feeling secure enough to abort talks with other West African leaders in Abidjan and assert his intention of staying in power until 2001. On 6 August, the UN Security Council issued a statement which said that, in the absence of a satisfactory response from the junta, it was "ready to take appropriate measures with the objective of restoring the democratically elected government." It was another two months before it adopted a British-sponsored resolution imposing oil, arms and travel sanctions on Sierra Leone.

By this time, the Nigerian-led ECOMOG forces and the Kamajors had exerted enough pressure on Koroma for him to consider negotiating a peaceful solution, though he was eager to have Foday Sankoh, still in Nigerian detention, participate in the discussions. At the end of August, ECOMOG was authorised to enforce the economic embargo on Sierra Leone. It did this in a characteristically controversial way, by shelling ships at harbour in Freetown, shelling and bombing the vicinity of the harbour, and later centres inland, and also inflicting several civilian casualties over the next few months. These actions drew international criticism without, however, prompting a more determined attempt by other powers to oust the Koroma regime, which was later described in the Guardian as "a truly appalling gang of brutal kleptocrats." Nor was the irony of the situation lost upon the Nigerian pro-democracy movement, when it learned in October that the Abacha regime was committed to the restoration of democracy in Sierra Leone. Writing later in the Times, Ken Wiwa, son of the late Ken Saro-Wiwa, said, "[s]anctions are not meant to work. They are like torture and bombing, intended to ‘bite’ and thus gratify the desire of the strong to be seen to be ‘doing something’ about the world’s ills. Sanctions are gesture diplomacy, the coward’s weapon of international aggression."

By late October, with Britain making unusually strong gestures of support to Kabbah’s government-in-exile, Koroma was induced to conclude a peace agreement in Abidjan. This provided for Kabbah to return to office by 22 April at the head of a broad-based government of national unity. The deal that was struck also gave immunity from prosecution to the leaders of the coup. All parties agreed to an immediate end to hostilities and the initiation of a programme of disarmament, demobilisation and reintegration of combatants. Certain details still needed finalisation, however, and the position of RUF in the bargain was unclear, as was the prospect of Sankoh’s return to Sierra Leone.

By the beginning of November, it appeared that the jubilation that had accompanied the Abidjan agreement might have been premature. Koroma insisted that Nigerian troops should be excluded from the ranks of the new ECOWAS monitoring force. He also voiced reservations about the nature of the unity government, and added a demand that Sankoh be released. By 11 November, Koroma was insisting that, as the national army, his troops should be excluded from the disarmament process. From Liberia, President Charles Taylor added his objections to ECOMOG’s activities against the junta.

On 27 November, a report appeared in the Globe and Mail, Toronto, detailing the relationship between Executive Outcomes, LifeGuard, Sandline International and a number of mining companies, including DiamondWorks. It alleged that members of these companies were engaged in planning a counter-coup in Sierra Leone to restore Kabbah. The article failed to generate much response, but by the middle of December, ECOMOG and the Kamajors stepped up their air and ground offensive along the Liberian border. Throughout January, as Koroma continued to procrastinate, the Kamajors began to retake certain of the diamond towns from the junta/RUF forces. On 27 January, junta and ECOMOG troops clashed in Freetown for the first time since the Abidjan agreement, and by now it was clear that both sides were readying themselves for renewed war.

On 6 February, the Nigerian offensive broke out of its positions outside Freetown and a week later could claim to have control of the capital. Two days later, well-armed Kamajor forces took the major towns of Bo and Kenema. Though the war front remained flexible, it was clear that Koroma and RUF were in retreat towards their positions in the north-east of the country. As they fell back, they committed numerous atrocities upon the civilian population. It is also clear that pro-Kabbah forces and civilians exacted revenge on captured soldiers for earlier wrongs.

On 10 March 1998, President Kabbah returned to Freetown in triumph. By early April, he could claim to control about ninety per cent of the national territory, but at the time of writing, sporadic junta/RUF outrages continue to be reported from the deep interior.

At least three more articles appeared in the international press in March about the role of Sandline in Kabbah’s restoration, including one in Africa Confidential, but it was not until May that questions in the British Parliament revealed that a customs investigation was being mounted into the provision of arms to ECOMOG, in possible violation of the UN embargo. This, in turn, focused attention on the question of whether the British government had been aware of the role played by a private military company in the Sierra Leone conflict.

The initial official reaction to the claim that the British government had condoned or even connived at the involvement of ‘mercenaries’ in a counter-coup to oust the military junta of Johnny Paul Koroma and the illegal sale of weapons to Kabbah, was one of outraged innocence. The Foreign Office Minister responsible for handling African affairs denied angrily that his government would associate with ‘hired killers’ and dismissed the allegations as irresponsible rubbish. He was subsequently supported by the Foreign Secretary, though it was soon apparent that senior officials and diplomats had enjoyed prior knowledge of Sandline’s involvement. Indeed, Sandline’s defence of its position was rather more expert than the disingenuous one mounted by Whitehall. Its lawyers detailed meetings with senior British and US officials, in some of which actual plans had been shared by the company, claiming with some justification that it had every right to believe that its operations enjoyed the support and approval of London and Washington.

While much of the lively debate in the British press concentrated on the ministers’ possible lack of control over their officials, or the failure of the Foreign Secretary to pay sufficient attention to detail, the broader ironies implicit in Cook’s defence also drew comment. On 8 May, the Times carried the following:

"Had President Kabbah not turned to the private sector, he would still be in exile. He had universal verbal backing; but during and after last year’s coup, the only force Western governments used was to evacuate their nationals; Nigerian troops had tried to overthrow the plotters and failed ... Since the wrath of the ‘international community’ had not the slightest impact on the regime, a rational observer might have expected the British Government to be quietly pleased that unorthodox methods had worked. It certainly professed itself delighted at the result. Instead, Sandline has been placed under criminal investigation and Robin Cook, the Foreign Secretary, has flatly condemned the operation ..."

This was not to be the full extent of the Foreign Office’s embarrassment about its handling of the affair. UN Security Resolution 1132 which, among other things, prohibited the supply of arms to Sierra Leone, was drafted in large part by Sir Franklin Berman, chief legal advisor to the ministry. The Order in Council, giving effect in British law to the Resolution, was also drafted by Berman’s staff. Berman’s interpretation was that the embargo applied equally to all parties in the conflict, and that on these grounds, Sandline may have been breaching the law. But by the end of May, the UN lawyers appeared to have changed their minds, arguing, as had Sandline, that since the Resolution had as its purpose the restoration of the elected government in Sierra Leone, then ECOMOG, which was working towards that end with the encouragement of the UN, must enjoy an implied partial exemption from the ban.

The British debate has centred on aspects of the affair of the least practical use to Africa, though some commentators have sought to broaden the perspective with practical considerations. As early as 5 May 1998, in a leading article entitled Double-edged Sword — The Case for a Pragmatic Assessment of Mercenary Forces, The Times expressed its amazement at the Foreign Office’s handling of the affair, which seemed designed to deny itself any credit in achieving the restoration of the legitimate government of Sierra Leone, despite numerous indications that this was an important aim of British policy in Africa. Moving on from the unfathomable ways of politicians, the writer focused on a less ephemeral aspect of the involvement of Sandline International in Sierra Leone.

"This is a ‘scandal’ to be kept in perspective. But it raises a wider question, about what relationships governments should have with the private military companies that have become a fixture of the post-Cold War world. Mercenaries have been used down the ages, often openly and effectively ... They could have a modern role. When national armies are being cut back and publics will not stand for casualties, the choice may be between limited privatisation of peacekeeping, or no action at all. The manpower engaged in UN peacekeeping has been cut by 70% since its peak in 1994. The answer is not to criminalise operators who have skills the world needs, but to develop a coherent framework to make them more transparent and improve accountability. That, if the moralists permit, is the main lesson that policymakers should draw from this affair."

Tim Spicer, the retired Lieutenant Colonel of the Scots Guards who heads Sandline International published a comment piece in the Sunday Times of 24 May. After sketching some of the gratuitous atrocities inflicted by the rebels upon the civilian population he reiterated his opinion that Sandline was proud to have played a part in restoring a responsible elected government.

"I sometimes wonder if the people who have talked so disparagingly of ‘mercenaries’ from the comfort of their armchairs in recent weeks have any idea of what a dangerous world it is out there. Since the end of the Cold War smouldering ethnic conflicts have broken out all over the globe. In the old days, one or other of the superpowers would have snuffed them out. Now, the forces of the traditional ‘policemen’ are depleted. Most have neither the resources nor the political will to involve themselves in faraway conflict, particularly if it is not nationally significant. Local armies can’t always deal with conflict. So how can countries create a safe, stable environment for peaceful existence and economic growth? Often they can’t and are left on their own with catastrophic results. That’s where private military companies (PMCs) come in."

Sandline and other PMCs are part of a wholly new military phenomenon. Could things have been different in Burundi or Rwanda if an effective military force had been deployed quickly? The answer is yes. Thousands of lives could have been saved, but nobody went.

Spicer went on to make a number of points about the sensitivity of his company in accepting contracts, with due regard to the client’s legitimacy, honesty and regard for human rights. He also criticised the rogue elements that, by public association, damage reputation of the respectable parts of this particular service sector, and urged the introduction of regulatory legislation to replace the idea of outlawing the industry. There were some who might later cavil at the assumption that Kabbah’s government’s human right’s record was quite as good following his return to Freetown. Some two thousand suspects were rounded up for collaboration with Koroma’s junta, and many found themselves facing the prospect of being tried for their lives. Others were even less fortunate and were summarily executed by the militias or the mob. A related concern has to do with Sandline’s apparent enhancement of the Kamajors’ effectiveness, which may impact upon the domestic politics of the country for some time to come.

Kadir Jasin, writing in Malaysia’s New Strait’s Times on 26 May, gave the issue a different perspective. He pointed out that the end of the bipolar Cold War conflict had reduced the incentive for outside powers to ameliorate or end conflicts in areas of remote interest. "To the rest of the world, it means a new form of extra-territorial intervention is taking shape — the so-called ‘privatised peacekeeping’ when big powers ‘franchise’ their foreign military operations to mercenaries, renegades and international gun-runners."

The question was echoed by Africa Confidential in its issue of 29 May when it asked to what extent the British government could or should entrust the making and implementation of foreign policy to private military and mining companies, even in countries of little strategic importance. However successful the Sierra Leone project was in restoring the rule of a legitimate government, and possibly also in containing the regional hegemonic goals of Nigeria, some members of the Commons’ Foreign Affairs Committee were understandably hesitant to approve of this sort of precedent.

The next question to be raised from an African perspective, is whether the peace is to be kept only at the cost of African states placing their natural resources in pawn. By extension, one might ask whether those countries lacking the necessary and conveniently exploitable unassigned assets are by implication excluded from such assistance from the private sector. Of course, it may also be argued that, only if relative security is established, can these resources be exploited and the proceeds taxed to the general good. It does seem evident, however, that mining companies and other entrepreneurs, if they can command reliable private military assistance, will be in a better position to negotiate concessions than other businesses without such connections. Is the time that far off when private companies will do battle, literally, for access to the natural wealth of Africa, as did the chartered companies of yesteryear?

Should this happen, it will be because the movers and shakers in the UN have ceased to regard Africa as a continent entitled to the consideration of the community of nations.