Why the UK needs a new model of preventative intervention

There is no military solution to overcome the conditions in which Islamist extremism thrives.

Recent events have vividly and tragically demonstrated the threat of Islamist extremism in north and west Africa. It is right the international community takes action in Mali to stop extremism taking root, but with transition in Afghanistan and the publication of the Iraq inquiry on the horizon it is right we look at the wider implications for UK defence.

In Africa and elsewhere today, there are nations at risk of instability in which we have an interest in ensuring increased prosperity and security. Insecurity is exploited by groups, some linked to al-Qaeda associates, whose complexity is deep-rooted, driven by local grievance as much as global ideology. Common conditions born from state weaknesses – lawlessness, poverty – drive instability, but the circumstances in which extremism emerges are often nation-specific. Many states lack the capacity to tackle extremism alone.

The question for us is how, not whether, we respond to this. UK citizens are put at risk and it is in line with our national interest and values to prevent humanitarian abuse or terrorist activity. A belief that we have responsibility beyond our borders is not, as some would have it, ideological, but an essential response to the world in which we live. The response can be development or diplomacy and, as a last resort, military intervention. Our nation should be haunted by the isolationist reticence of Douglas Hurd over Bosnia and the tragedy we witnessed in Rwanda.

While Iraq and Afghanistan have been painful and rightly controversial we cannot hide from the fact that events and threats overseas may necessitate the use of force in the future. This is something we as a party we will not be immune from in government. But at a time of financial constraint and with the electorate weary and wary of intervention, we must retain consent by making our purpose clear and learning lessons from our recent past, developing more effective policy in light of experience.

A principal flaw of past operations was to misunderstand the complexity of the threat. Al-Qaeda has been presented as a traditional terrorist grouping when it is a loose franchise; as much a worldview as coherent entity. The attacks of 11 September necessitated action, but a search for simplicity led to solutions which paid insufficient regard to local circumstance. It is essential we understand the patchwork of alliances which make up the extremist threat in north and west Africa.

We must also appreciate the interests of indigenous authorities and those with whom we co-operate - it took too long for us to see the training of Afghan forces as a strategic priority and we know that de-Ba’athification left a lethal vacuum in Iraq.

Just as vital is the need to understand the culture and character of a specific country. An almost primitive understanding of Afghan culture and geography undermined international attempts to work with proxies and our political strategy was  insufficiently representative. In Iraq there was a serious deficit in western comprehension of the Sunni-Shia or intra-Shia dynamics.

Mali shows these lessons have not been fully learnt. While necessary, it is a failure in prevention and foresight. Mali has been on the critical list for a long time, yet action has been rushed with shifting objectives. France has been short of capabilities. An internationally-driven political solution is in its infancy at best. The Prime Minister’s talk of a "generational struggle" did not convey the intricacy of instability in the region.

Military intervention can be necessitated by events. Sierra Leone or Kosovo show the change it can bring. But to avoid the kind of heavy-footprint operations we do not want to repeat, a new model of ‘preventative intervention’ is needed.

This would be based on adaptable armed forces, highly-trained and culturally aware. At the invitation of host authorities, engagement with fragile nations would be more proactive with a focus on training and combat-prevention. The principle would be to invest early, making substantial intervention less likely and in the event of escalation success more likely, as well as improving post-conflict planning. Modernising our forces in this way must be a unified NATO effort.

The core component of preventative intervention would be developing risk nations’ ability to defend themselves from militancy, enabling enforcement of rights and values and limiting space for extremism. Partnering must always be case-by-case and on the condition that skills acquiredare not used for internal oppression or external aggression. Military reform in countries of concern should be a condition of our engagement. Afghanistan’s ‘Sandhurst in the sand’ could be replicated elsewhere by the UK and our allies.

ECOWAS, the regional west African grouping, has demonstrated that it has the will but not the means to act. Our long-term focus must be to enable multinational regional institutions to deliver indigenous responses to crises.

Parasitic by nature, extremism thrives when it intersects with state weakness and corruption. Failure to tackle these issues at root could allow our opponents to morph into terror groups with a social movement agenda, similar to Hamas, with potential to gain local traction. Preventative intervention, therefore, must be comprehensive, encompassing diplomatic and developmental efforts.

This model combines past lessons with future needs, applying the unavoidable truth that there is no hard power solution to overcome the conditions in which Islamist extremism thrives, just as there is no exclusive soft power means to defeat it.

Jim Murphy is shadow defence secretary and  Labour MP for East Renfrewshire
British soldiers are seen inside a British army Boeing C-17 cargo aircraft en route to Bamako, the capital of Mali. Photograph: Getty Images.

Jim Murphy is the former Labour MP for East Renfrewshire and leader of Scottish Labour 2014-15.

Felipe Araujo
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Hull revisited: What happens when a Brexit stronghold becomes City of Culture?

We report from Hull, to find out if you can replace the kind of nostalgia that led to a Leave vote with cultural investment.

At 75 metres long, the offshore wind turbine blade erected across Queen Victoria Square, in the heart of Hull, is a sculpture intended to mark a new chapter in the city’s history. For the next 12 months, Hull, a city of more than a quarter of a million people in the northeast of England, will be the UK’s City of Culture.

The 28-tonne blade hails from the local Siemens plant. The German technology company employs around 1,000 people in the area, making it Hull’s biggest single employer.

Seen up close in this context – laid dormant in the middle of a town square instead of spinning up in the air generating energy – the structure is meant to remind passersby of a giant sea creature. It is also, I’m told, an allusion to Hull’s rich maritime history.


All photos: Felipe Araujo

Nostalgia is a big thing in this part of the country. At one point, Hull was the UK’s third largest port but technology and privatisation drastically changed that. The battle over cod fishing with Iceland in the waters of the North Sea 40 years ago has also dealt a major blow to a region with a long and proud trawling tradition.

People here still talk about a bygone era when the fishing industry provided jobs for everyone and there was enough money to go around.

Fast forward to 2017, and the country’s new capital of culture is the same city that voted 67 per cent in favour of leaving the EU last June. Its new-found prestige, it seems, is not enough to erase years of neglect by a political class “too busy for commoners like us”, as one resident puts it.

“More than a message to Brussels, it [the Brexit vote] was a message to Westminster,” Paul Leeson-Taylor, a filmmaker born and bred in Hull, tells me. “For the first time in a long time people in Hull felt like they had the chance to change something, and they took it.”

But while speaking to people on the high street and hanging out with locals at the Community Boxing Club in Orchard Park, one of the city’s most deprived areas, there is one word that consistently popped up in conversation – more than any specific policy from Westminster or the much-hated rules “dictated” by Brussels. Foreigners.

According to official figures, Hull’s population is 89.1 per cent white British. Still, immigration is big on people’s minds here.

During my two-day stay in the city, I find myself being the only black person in most places I visit – I’m certainly the only black guy at the boxing club. So when someone begins a sentence with “I’m not racist but…”, I know a tirade on immigrants is about to ensue.

“There are just too many of them,” Nick Beach, an estate agent whose Polish clientele is a big part of his business, tells me as he is about to teach a boxing class to local children. Beach was born in Shepherd’s Bush, in West London, but has been living in Hull for the last 20 years.

“When I go down there these days and go into Westfield shopping centre, it is very rare you get an English person serving you now,” he says. “I just find it disappointing that you go into your capital city and you are a minority there.”

These are the much-discussed “left behind”, a white working-class community that has gained particular prominence in a time of Brexit and Donald Trump. Under economic pressure and facing social change, they want to have their say in running a country they claim to no longer recognise.

For Professor Simon Lee, a senior politics lecturer at the University of Hull, immigration is only a superficial layer when it comes to explaining the resentment I witness here. For him, the loss of the empire 70 years ago is still something that as a country Britain hasn’t come to terms with.

“The reason for us to be together as a United Kingdom has gone, so what is the project?”

As destiny would have it, a foreign company will now play a major role on Hull’s economic future, at least in the short term. In the wake of the Brexit vote, there were widespread fears Siemens would pull out of the region and take its factory elsewhere. With the massive blade looming large in the background, Jason Speedy, director of the blade factory in Hull, assures me that isn’t the case.

“The Brexit decision has made no difference. We have made our investment decision, so Siemens, together with the Association of British Ports, has put in £310m. It’s all full steam ahead.”

As Hull becomes the country’s cultural hub for the next few months, the hope is that its residents stop looking back and start looking forward.

For Professor Lee, though, until there is a complete change in the power structures that run the country, the north-south divide will remain – with or without the EU. “The way you kill nostalgia is to have something new,” he said. “The reason why people here are nostalgic is because there is nothing to replace it with.”

Felipe Araujo is a freelance journalist based in London. He writes about race, culture and sports. He covered the Rio Olympics and Paralympics on the ground for the New Statesman. He tweets @felipethejourno.